Part 5
**************************************
A loud banging sound
startled Spike awake a few hours later. Sneaking
a peek from his hiding place, he saw Anya had arrived, as had a shipment of
something. She was whacking away at
a crate with a crowbar with much gusto but little success.
*This would be a good time to have a little one-on-one with the girl,* he
thought, moving forward, then scurrying back again when he saw Giles running
over.
“Ah, yes, Anya, perhaps
you should let me handle this one.” Anya
flashed him a look that would surely have killed him where he stood if she still
wielded that kind of power, then dropped the crowbar on the crate in a gesture
of acquiescence.
“Fine.
It’s probably full of more chicken feet anyway.
You should let me do the ordering, especially if you keep staying out all
night with Xander.”
“Anya, I did not stay out
all night with-”
“And you returned him
damaged! You let Buffy damage him,
Giles.” Anya looked more worried
than angry now, Spike noted. “It’s bad enough he might be eaten by vampires
or ripped apart by monsters, but now I have to worry he might be killed by his
own friends!”
“Anya, did Xander say he
was badly hurt?” At Giles’
expression of concern, Anya sighed heavily.
“No, he said he was
fine,” she conceded reluctantly. “He
said a few hours sleep and some aspirin and he would be unbroken enough to have
sex.” Spike smirked when he saw
the look of long-suffering on Giles’ face at this revelation.
Deciding that it was best to ignore this latest information overload from
his assistant, he set about prying the lid off the crate.
From the pouting expression on Anya’s face, she was not quite ready to
let it go. “That’s not the point.
I don’t want Xander to have to recover, I want him unbroken all the
time! You’re in charge of Buffy,
tell her to stop hurting him, especially in the good places.”
Moving away a bit, she grumbled more softly, mostly to herself, “I
don’t see why you can’t be the one in the suit, it is your job after all.
But no, Giles is too old and fragile, let’s put Anya’s boyfriend in
danger instead.” With a final
thrust born as much from desperation as determination, Giles lifted the lid from
the crate and began pulling items from inside.
“Anya, some of the things
in the crate should not go on the floor, can you take them to the loft for me,
please? Thank you ever so much.”
Lifting three small winged female idols from the crate, he placed them in
Anya’s arms. Anya took a look at
them and gave Giles a questioning look.
“You do realize that
someone could summon Etruscan hell-demonesses with these. We don’t have enough problems with our own Hellgoddess
right now? You want more?”
“Precisely why I ordered
them, actually. I hope to study
them in order to possibly find new ways to defeat...please, just put them
upstairs, Anya. I know what I’m
doing.” Anya’s face said she
believed the opposite, but she dutifully headed to the loft.
Giles called after her. “And
mind you, be careful with them. The
banishment ritual for Tuchulcha alone would take at least a fortnight.”
Anya stomped up the stairs, muttering to herself.
“As if there’s something
you can tell me about Tuchulcha. Like
you even know Tuchulcha. I know
Tuchulcha, I’ve hung out with Tuchulcha, I‘ve invoked her in vengeance and,
and, and I helped polish her beak once. We
were practically friends, so don’t tell me-”
Anya was cut off by a sudden hand over her mouth, startling her so much
she nearly did drop the idols. A
very familiar voice whispered in her ear.
“Hush now, pet.
Let’s be very quiet-oof!” Anya’s
elbow in his ribs prompted Spike to let go of her, and she whirled around to
face him.
“Spike!
What are you doing up here?” Spike
held his hands up in surrender, eyeing the idols nervously.
“Mind putting those
someplace safe first? Summoning an
Etruscan hell-bitch isn’t exactly what I had in mind for today.”
Keeping both eyes suspiciously on Spike all the while, Anya placed the
idols gently on a low shelf. A
sudden realization hit her, and she immediately marched over to him and smacked
him hard on the shoulder.
“Hey!
What was that-”
“It’s all your fault!
You were the one who had to go and try to kill Buffy.
You made her so mad she injured Xander instead of you.
He could have wound up sterile!” Spike
was about to protest the trying-to-kill-Buffy part, but instead chuckled softly
at the sterile-Xander part. Seeing
she was about to attack again, he hastily removed the crystal from his pocket
and held it in front of her face. “What
are you-”
“You Will Forget.”
Checking to make certain that she was in the trance, Spike tried to work
more quickly this time. He was mindful of Giles moving about downstairs, putting away
items and preparing the shop to open. It
was only a matter of time before he began to wonder what was taking Anya so
long, though at the moment he was probably counting his blessings.
Spike removed the second talisman and held it for a brief second,
wondering if the sensation would ever grow less enthralling.
Placing it upon the girl’s forehead, he carefully moved into the
embrace, finding holding Anya much more pleasurable than holding the Watcher had
been. He briefly buried his face in
her hair, breathing in her scent curiously.
She smelled of wine and pomegranates and Ivory soap, a commingling of
ancient myth and modern conveniences. As
he began the entreaty, he once again heard Lydia’s voice blending with his
own:
“I beseech you, Amagandar
Protect this innocent soul
From the curse that belongs
to another
Remove the affliction
Restore the life line
I beseech you, Amagandar
Let not this friend be taken
This plea I make with
sincere heart
By my words, let it be
true.”
As Lydia’s voice in his
head grew silent once more, Spike thought, *This is too strange. What did that
witch of a Watcher do to me?* Then
he closed his eyes and thought about Anya.
*You were a beautiful, terrifying demon, and as a mortal you’re a real
spitfire. I’d miss you.* The fragrance of sage and rosemary again let him know of his
success, and he released her, throwing the Cloak of Darkness about his shoulders
and retreating to a dark corner. Unless
someone was specifically looking for him, he knew the Cloak would prevent him
from being seen. Down below he
heard the door to the shop open and Willow call out to Giles.
*Good, that should keep him occupied until she comes out of it.
And maybe I’ll get a chance to put the whammy on Teen Witch, too.* Though he continued to watch Anya, he strained to hear the
conversation below.
“Ah, Willow, good.
I’ve just received a shipment of Cunningham herbal guides, do you mind
helping me set up the display?”
“Of course not, Giles, but
where’s the paid help? Off
cuddling the money?” Giles
laughed shortly, a bit nervous.
“Anya’s definitely
around. I’m afraid that she’s
rather cross with me at the moment, on account of what happened to Xander.”
“Cross?
Anya? That’s hard to- oh
my goddess, Xander?” Willow’s
voice had lost its sarcastic edge and now was on the perimeter of panic.
“Something happened to Xander? Is
he all right? No one called me, why didn’t you call me, Giles?”
“No, no, Willow,
Xander’s fine. He was helping
Buffy train last night, and well, what with the Spike situation...you do know
about that?” Willow must have
nodded, because he continued. “Well,
I guess it wasn’t the best plan to have Xander take the place of the training
dummy last night.”
“Oh, I see...wait, Xander
wore the puffy suit last night and Buffy didn’t call me?”
Spike’s attention was diverted by Anya’s sudden movement.
She swayed for a moment, looking around her in confusion.
“What am I doing up
here?” she wondered aloud.
Spike stiffened as she looked directly at him for a moment.
He briefly feared that perhaps his Cloak of Darkness had a flaw, as had
been known to happen on occasion, but she turned her back to him and strode
towards the front of the loft, looking down at Giles and Willow.
Spike leaned back in relief. *That’s
two Scooby's down, only five more to go. And
they bloody well owe me good!*
“Giles?”
Anya called tentatively down, still feeling strange and disoriented.
“Yes, Anya, are you quite
finished up there?” Anya was
about to tell Giles she had no idea why she was even in the loft, when she
registered that Willow was helping Giles and the familiar sense of anxiety about
her place took hold. *I can’t let
Giles know I don’t remember, he might lose confidence in me.* Instead she smiled brightly and nodded.
“Yes, all done!
Did you need anything while I’m here?”
Giles shook his head bemusedly, amazed as always at her mercurial moods.
“Come on down and help us
here, it’s nearly time to open.” Spike
watched her climb down, pleased with his success but already working on a new
quandary: finding a way to entice Willow to come to the loft.
*Too bad Lydia didn’t give me any summoning spells, * he mused
ruefully. *But maybe there’s
something up here I can use.* Picking
up a nearby tome, he began leafing through it with fresh determination.
**********************************
Meanwhile, back in London,
Lydia Stokes-Martin wearily turned the key in the lock of her flat, and entered
without even bothering to switch on the lights. She didn’t even know it was possible to feel this
exhausted. Yet as she kicked off
her shoes, she also felt more alive than ever before, almost giddy with triumph.
She had already been to the seat of the Watcher’s Council and returned
the Santiago Codex, It appeared that the illusion she had created to keep its
absence from being noticed had neither been detected nor tampered with.
All in all, things had gone better than she would have thought possible,
and she now held out a small glimmer of hope that things might actually turn
out. She moved throughout the
darkened residence, throwing her coat on her sofa without needing to see it.
Yawning, she had almost made it to her bedroom when sudden awareness
quickened her heartbeat and halted her movement.
She was not alone.
Someone, or something, was in her flat with her.
**************************************
Part 6
**************************************
Lydia took a deep breath to
keep from panicking. Using a trick she had learned in Watcher training, she
closed her eyes and reached her senses outward, psychically feeling the room to
better pinpoint this foreign presence. *Standing, by the sofa, seems to be
human, but definite traces of magick,* she surmised, preparing to defend herself
by any means necessary. She slowly inched her hand forward, feeling for the lamp
that rested on the table outside her bedroom door. Sensing movement, she grabbed
for the lamp and whirled around as the unknown visitor switched on the light.
Lydia gasped as she got her first good look at her surprise guest. The face was
the same one she saw in the mirror every morning. The other Lydia smirked and
pointed towards the lamp.
“Are you going to hit me
with that?” her double asked dryly in a voice that was several shades deeper
than her own. Lydia put the lamp down, sagging in relief.
“Aldric. What are you
doing here?” With a shake of blonde hair, the image of Lydia dissolved into a
lanky, fair-skinned young man wearing faded blue jeans and a dark gray cable
knit sweater. The slightly amused expression had not left his face, but behind
his wire-rimmed glasses his laughing gray eyes also held a touch of concern.
“What do you think?
Looking out for my little sister.” Aldric gestured towards the window of the
flat. “They’re having you watched. Look outside.” Lydia moved to the
window, and while standing flat against the wall to avoid being seen, peaked
through the curtain to the street below. She immediately recognized the dark
blue car across the street, and the man sitting in the driver’s seat. From the
angle she couldn’t tell if he was watching the building or not.
“How long?” she asked
softly.
“Started almost
immediately after you left. After your little confrontation with Travers, I
think he suspected that you might try to contact Rupert Giles. Fortunately, he
made the colossal error of assigning Bixby to keep an eye on you. Obsequious
ass!” Aldric snorted. “I’ve been imitating you for two days and he’s
never been the wiser. Fool wouldn’t recognize a glamour if I made him look
like Marilyn Monroe.” Lydia couldn’t help but smile in agreement. Like the
Stokes-Martins, the Bixbys were Watchers of long standing, but Colin Bixby was
not the finest contribution to the family business. What he lacked in actual
intelligence or ability, however, he had more than compensated for in
sycophantic deportment, and he had thus manage to ingratiate himself into
Quentin Traver’s inner circle. He was too dense to realize that his prized
position was little more than that of flunky.
“Quentin isn’t a fool.
If he assigned Bixby, he mustn’t really suspect.”
“That you took off for
America to contact William the Bloody because you believe him to be the Dark
Knight from the contra-prophecy? Oh, I can assure you that idea would not have
occurred to him. Despite your little disagreement, you are still golden in his
eyes, sister dear.” Although his tone was gentle, Lydia grimaced. Her stellar
standing in the Council, and her brother’s lack of same, were a definite sore
point for her. Aldric possessed one of the more brilliant minds of any of the
Council and a truly extraordinary talent for magicks. These gifts were offset by
his independent nature and utter refusal to play Council politics. Some members
of the Council had perceived him as a possible threat to stability, and there
was actually a movement at work to have him eliminated until it became clear
that he had no ambitions to do anything more than translate obscure texts and
spells into English and a dozen other languages. He was promptly relegated to
those duties and subsequently forgotten by almost everyone, much to the
everlasting shame of their father. His aspirations at that point became squarely
attached to Lydia. Her rise through the ranks had been swift and sure, and
although she was considered too ‘idealistic’ to ever achieve active Watcher
status, her father and Quentin Travers had definite plans for her future. Aware
of her discomfort, Aldric dropped the subject and moved into the small kitchen.
“Yes, well, fortunately
Bixby won’t be a problem. I dropped a little sleep sand when I got here
tonight in anticipation of your return. I’m certain he didn’t see you.”
Lydia seated herself at her tiny kitchen table and watched him put the kettle
on, once again aware of her extreme tiredness.
“That is a relief. Two
Lydias might have made him slightly suspicious.” Aldric raised an eyebrow
incredulously and she laughed quietly.
“Leaving aside the
fascinating subject of Colin Bixby for a moment, are you ever going to tell me
what happened in America? Did you find the vampire?” Aldric had discovered the
prophecy, of course. Upon finding the Council singularly disinterested, he had
shown it to Lydia. She had taken the case to Travers, with no greater success
than her brother, much to both of their disbelief. Undeterred, Lydia had gone to
Aldric with her plan to persuade Spike to help save the Slayer, and he had
helped her secure all the needed items and spells, as well as offering aid in
creating the illusion that the Codex was undisturbed. He had a vested interest
in the results of this excursion.
“Yes, I found him, and he
agreed to help, just like I said he would.” Lydia’s chin lifted somewhat
defiantly. As free-spirited as her brother was, he shared the opinion of most of
the council that vampires were incapable of acting selflessly, and had doubted
that she would be able to bring Spike around.
“Ah, you used the empathy
spell,” he grinned.
“No! Well, yes, but I
shouldn’t have. It was unnecessary.” Ignoring her brother’s dubious stare,
she continued excitedly. “And it’s working! Two of the Friends – sorry,
Followers - have already been saved.”
“And just how would you
know that?” Lydia looked at her hands guiltily, as her brother’s lightening
quick mind came to its own conclusion. “Oh, Lydia, for God’s sake! You
didn’t! Please tell me you didn’t do what I’m thinking!”
[“You’re certain
you’ve memorized the incantation?”
“We’ve been over it a
thousand bloody times, luv! I think I’ll be saying it in my sleep for the next
twenty years.” Lydia nodded uncertainly. Now that her time had drawn to a
close, she was anxious that nothing had been forgotten. The consequences would
be disastrous, and she had come so far.
“This is it, then. I
must be going.” Was it her imagination, or did he look sorry to see her leave?
She couldn’t be sure. Spike cleared his throat as she collected the Codex and
restored it to her bag.
“All right then.”
Lydia lifted the bag and looked at him gravely.
“It’s all up to you
now, Spike. No one else. I won’t be able to help you.” Spike nodded,
matching her serious expression.
“Is there a way I can
contact you? To let you know when it’s done?” Lydia came to a sudden
decision. She strode purposefully to Spike, grabbed his head in her hands, and
kissed him hard on the lips. The contact was brief but intense, and left him
feeling mildly lightheaded. She released her grip on him but stayed in close. He
could feel the heat of her breath.
“You won’t need to
contact me. I’ll know,” she whispered. Then laughing a bit uneasily, she
backed away. “Of course I’ll know. In three days, when the prophecy isn’t
fulfilled and the Friends are alive.” Squaring her shoulders, she collected
her umbrella and moved to the door of the crypt, stopping and turning to look
back when she reached the entrance. His back was to her. He had not moved or
spoken since the kiss.
“Goodbye, Spike.” She
moved into the night without awaiting his reply. The skies were now clear, and
she felt her conscience was cloudless as well.]
Spike’s thoughts suddenly
returned to the present, slightly disoriented by the unexpected memory. He was
still in the loft of the Magic Box. *That was it, wasn’t it? That kiss, she
did something.* He could feel something was different. He had recalled the
good-byes from yesterday as if through the Watcher’s eyes. And several times
he had felt as if she was there with him. He shook his head in exasperation.
*Nothing to be done about it now, but when this is all over I am definitely
finding that girl. She’ll be sorry she messed with my head.* He looked down at
the spell he had found to entice Willow into the loft. Fortunately it required
no ingredients, only strength of will, which was something Spike was finding he
had in overabundance. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he began
gathering his energy while listening to the conversation below for an
opportunity. Tara and Xander had arrived at the shop a short time after the shop
had opened, and were currently talking to Willow while Anya and Giles dealt with
customers. Making certain his Cloak was secure, he leaned forward across the
railing to observe them more closely. Willow and Tara both were seated at the
table below, with Xander sitting on the table between them.
“Has anyone heard from
Buffy yet this morning?” Willow asked. Her mildly worried expression was
mirrored by her girlfriend. Xander shook his head.
“Nah, but we were doing
the training thing until pretty late last night. Working off the revulsion that
is ‘Spike has declared his everlasting love and tried to kill me at the same
time.’ Pardon me while I shudder at the thought.” Spike felt his game face
rising to the surface and suppressed the urge to growl at the young idiot. *You
know nothing about it, you stupid whelp!*
“It was bad?” Tara asked
softly. Spike thought the girl was pretty much permanently on mute. Xander
shrugged, wincing a bit at the stiffness in his shoulder. He quickly looked at
Anya to see if she’d noticed before responding.
“She was pretty seriously
wigged, and Anya was pretty seriously ticked. Buffy may be laying a bit low for
now.”
At Tara’s puzzled look,
Willow interjected, “Buffy was upset about Spike and went a bit medieval on
Xander last night, which, come to think of it, is an expression that Anya
probably has an interesting appreciation of.” Ignoring the glower from Xander,
she leaned in conspiratorially to Tara across his body. “She was worried he
might be nonfunctional.” Tara smiled and nodded understanding.
“But she’s going to come
to the party tonight, right?” Tara looked back and forth between her two
friends seeking their agreement. Both Willow and Xander nodded.
“Absolutely. A bit of
party fun is exactly what the doctor ordered to chase away the
Spike-wants-me-as-a-sextoy blues.” Unfortunately, Anya had come over in time
to catch only Xander’s flippant comment.
“Spike wants you as a
sextoy?” she shrieked loudly, catching the alarmed attention of several shop
patrons and earning a dirty look from Giles.
“As if,” Spike sniggered
softly to himself. Xander rose hastily to quiet his girlfriend.
“Not me, Ahn.
Buffy,” he said softly but
with urgency, flashing a manic smile at the customers who were amusedly
returning to their business. Anya
looked relieved.
“Good.
I knew that. And even if Spike did want to have sex with you, you
wouldn’t, because you love me. And
you wouldn’t have sex with a vampire.”
Xander put his arms around her and gave her a small squeeze.
“Truer words were never
spoken,” he agreed. During this
exchange, Willow had whispered something to Tara and was now looking at some of
the crystals that had arrived in the morning shipment a few feet away.
Tara was still watching Xander and Anya with amusement.
“I have a small job to do this afternoon, do you want me to pick you up
after work?” To Xander’s
confusion, Anya immediately looked at Tara, who looked over her shoulder to
locate Willow. Seeing that she was
out of earshot, she stood up and moved closer to her friends.
“Actually, Anya was going
to m-meet with me after work. To
h-help me with something,” she volunteered hesitantly. Xander looked back and
forth between the two of them, then addressed Tara, matching her quiet tone.
“I take it this is a
secret something? A
don’t-tell-Willow something?”
“It’s a s-surprise
something. Anya’s going to help
me learn some computer things. I’ve
always been a bit scared of them, and Willow wants to teach me, but I want to
learn some of the basics on my own, so I don’t seem too d-dumb.
Anya offered to help.” Xander
looked at Anya questioningly, and she nodded.
“I’m good at online
things, you know.” Xander smiled
and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.
“I think that’s great,
Ahn. I’m proud of you.”
Anya beamed back at him.
None of them noticed Willow
climbing the steps to the loft. No
one in the Magic Box did.
************************************
“You bonded yourself.
To a vampire.” Lydia could see her brother almost shaking with fury.
“I can explain-”
“Not just any vampire,
mind you,” he continued as if she hadn‘t spoken.
“A master vampire. One who
has killed not one, but two Slayers. William
the Bloody! You bonded yourself to
bloody William the Bloody!!” At
the last, he pounded on the table, rattling the teacups at the exact moment the
tea kettle whistled shrilly. Aldric
slumped into a seat and placed his head in his hands as Lydia arose to remove
the kettle, glad of a reason to move away from him.
“It’s only temporary.
Three days. Just until the
prophecy is averted.” She looked
at him beseechingly as she poured the tea.
“It’s the only way I could know what was going on.
Could help.” He removed
his hands from his face and looked at her, his face still awash with dismay.
“Still, Lydia, what were
you thinking? Bonding spells are
very tricky things. What goes from
mind to mind can’t always be controlled.
You could end up in Piccadilly trying to bite some wanker of a tourist in
the neck! What would our father
have to say about that? Or Quentin?
Or Alan?” Lydia flinched,
but said nothing. Aldric continued,
“And I never taught you such a spell, where did you get it?”
Lydia’s cheeks now flushed angrily.
“I have been trained, you
know. I do have sources of
knowledge other than my big brother’s overly egotistical fat head.”
Aldric looked only slightly remorseful.
As he opened his mouth to comment again, she cut him off.
“And as for the rest, I know what I’m doing. I
can control it, and there will be no need for Father, or Quentin, or especially
Alan to know anything about it.” Her
gaze wandered absently to a framed photograph on a small table near the kitchen,
and she walked over and picked it up. It
showed a darkly handsome man about her brother’s age, standing in front of the
Sydney Opera House. He was smiling
broadly, and one could almost ignore the cruel set of his mouth and the coldness
of his chocolate brown eyes. Alan
Travers. Quentin’s nephew, in
Australia keeping an eye on a young girl the Council was certain was to be the
next Slayer. Alan Travers, her fiancée.
A sudden awareness made her almost drop the picture, and she turned to
her brother with an expression of rapture.
“It’s happening again. He’s
performing the spell.”
***********************************
Spike had decided not to
waste time with small talk this time. The
second Willow was far enough back to not be seen, he used the crystal.
Placing the talisman on her forehead, he wrapped his arms around her,
shocked at how different it felt from hugging the ex-demon.
He could feel power, energy. The
witch practically hummed with it. As
he had with Anya, he put his head in her hair and smelled.
Willow smelled of strawberries, fresh and summery, with a trace of
something exotic and floral. He
imagined that was the scent of her lover. This
time as he began the petition to the Amagandar, he could practically feel Lydia
inside his mind.
““I beseech you,
Amagandar
Protect this innocent soul
From the curse that belongs
to another...”
**************************************
Aldric watched with
fascinated dread as Lydia recited the incantation, knowing she was no longer
even aware of his presence.
“...Remove the affliction
Restore the life line
I beseech you,
Amagandar...”
**************************************
Spike found himself saying
the words with a greater intensity than before.
“...Let not this friend be
taken
This plea I make with
sincere heart
By my words, let it be
true.”
Holding her close, he
thought about the time Willow had kept him from ending his sorry unlife.
*Please, let me return the favor. She
deserves life.* He sighed in relief
as he smelled the familiar scent, than as he had before, settled into his Cloak
and his corner to wait. He vaguely
heard Xander making his good-byes.
“So we’ll meet you guys
at the party, then? You’ll bring
Buffy with you?” he was asking Tara. Spike
smiled to himself as they confirmed the location and time of the event.
*Just got a new date to pencil into my social calendar.
An opportunity to hex a Scooby or too and see Buffy in her pretty party
clothes shouldn’t be missed.*
**************************************
Lydia opened her eyes to
meet her brother’s frantic gaze. She
smiled beatifically.
“It worked.
We saved her, Willow Rosenberg.”
“Lydia...”
“Don’t you see?
You know how important this is to me, Aldric.
Everything will be fine.” Aldric
shook his head slowly.
“Lydia, Alan is coming.
Here. Tomorrow.”
**************************************