Part 9

 

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It wasn't until after he had limped all the way back to his crypt that Spike realized that he had left behind the Cloak of Darkness. Furious, he whirled about in a fit of temper throwing anything his hands came in contact with against the wall. The sound of breaking ceramic told him that he'd just destroyed his favorite blood-drinking mug. The tantrum over as suddenly as it had begun, he collapsed into a chair.

 

"Oh, bloody hell!" He exclaimed, his voice muffled by his hands over his face. *I don't want to go back there, but I need that Cloak. I only have two days left and I still have to put a whammy on Junior, the kid and the great brooding one.* He lurched to his feet with a groan and stomped back into the night.

 

A short while later Spike was back looking through the empty window frame. Most of the party guests, with the exception of a few stragglers and people cleaning up, had already cleared out. *That'll make this easier, I'll just nip in, grab the Cloak, nip out and no one will be the wiser...*

 

"Hey, aren't you that dude?" Spike turned and glared at the speaker, a scrawny boy with stringy hair who was now nodding. "You are. You're the dude that flew through that window. Man, what did you say to the freaky chick?"

 

Spike was tempted to see how much pain the chip would cause him if he grabbed the boy in a headlock, but kept walking instead. He managed to make it to the corner where he had worked the spell on Tara before without further incident. *Just grab the...Cloak...where is it?* Spike looked around, realizing instantly that the Cloak was no longer where he had left it.

 

"Damn, damn, it's gone!" He stood motionless for a second, uncertain what he should do now. The Cloak could have been picked up by anyone. There was no way he was going to be able to recover it now. He was on his way out when his acute hearing picked up the sound of Xander's voice coming from another room. He couldn't make out what he was saying, but he was pretty sure he had heard his own name. Following the sound, he found a hiding place where he was close enough to hear, but could do so unobserved.

 

"...not sure this is a Code Red, guys. Is there a Code Pink? We need more codes." he heard Willow's voice say. The next voice made him smile. Buffy.

 

"Fine. We find Warren tomorrow." *So they're after the guy that girl was looking for. Wonder what he did?* Spike thought to himself as Buffy continued. "Tonight I better go rescue Giles. He's watching Dawn while Mom's on her date, and I get the feeling there's only so much he can take." He could hear her wry amusement.

 

"Giles and Dawny? I bet they ended up having a blast!" Tara interjected, and Spike smirked to himself. *Yeah, right. That's what happened. I'm sure they did each other's hair and giggled and made popcorn and had oh so much teen time fun. Almost wish I was there to see it, he must be over the bend by now.* He pushed himself further back into the shadows in anticipation of their leaving. But instead Spike heard a morose voice he did not recognize.

 

"You guys ready to go? I want to lock up, not that it'll do much good." Unseen by Spike, the Scoobies were all looking at Nestor Lowell, the student who had been the main organizer of the party. He knew that the damage to the Commons that had happened at the party was coming down on his head, and his head hung in dejection. Willow, with her natural empathy, went to him and put her hand on his arm.

 

"I'm sure the administration will understand about the window, Nestor. It was an accident." Nestor shook his head.

 

"I'm not sure I understand about the window. What was up with that girl and that guy, were they tag team wrestlers or something?" The others looked at each other and shrugged.

 

"That...might be it. I bet that was it," Buffy enthusiastically agreed. This thought didn't comfort Nestor at all.

 

"It doesn't matter. I asked around, no one knew either one of them. They don't go to school here. Just a couple of stupid townies." Anya gripped Xander's arm as his expression darkened. Nestor went on unaware that he had just insulted two of the people to whom he was talking. "This is going to come out of my pocket. I took responsibility for any damage from this party. My dad's going to skin me alive."

 

"Not literally. I think," Xander whispered in Anya's ear at her intrigued look.

 

"Maybe we know somebody who could help," Willow said slowly, looking at Xander. He looked back at her blankly at the same moment Nestor had looked at her with a glimmer of hope. "Like a really, really good carpenter who might, as a personal favor, be able to do the job for, let's say, half what he would normally charge. Plus the cost of materials, of course."

 

"Really? That would be so great!" Four females eyeing him meaningfully was more than Xander Harris could stand, he instantly crumbled.

 

"Yeah, man. I'll give you an estimate, but I can't get to the job till tomorrow night." Nestor wore a huge smile of relief, and Xander couldn't help but grin back. After an exchange of phone information, Nestor snapped his fingers as if remembering something.

 

"Wait, while we were cleaning up, Jackie found something. Do any of you recognize this?" He reached into his backpack and took something out. The Scoobies stared.

 

"What is it?" Tara asked slowly. Spike's heart sank. *Please tell me it's not-*

 

"I dunno, it looks like a big cape with a hood or something. It's weird."

 

"It's mine!" Anya's sharp tone told Spike that she had recognized the Cloak of Darkness, and it was best if he go. Now. Quickly. He could hear her talking loudly as he hastened away. "I was wondering where I put it, darned cloak, always losing it, Xander's always reminding me, 'Don't forget your cloak!' but I always do. Please give it to me now." They all stared at Anya in confusion, but Xander quickly backed her up.

 

"Yup, there it is, that's Anya's...scary dark cape thing...what would we do without it? I'm so glad it's not lost...again. She needs it for her secret identity as the Caped Avenger-oops, I guess that cat's no longer in the bag. Thanks for finding it, man." Nestor looked uncertain, but at the other's nods, he handed the cloak to Anya, who clutched it possessively. They all walked out as a group and waving goodbye to Nestor headed towards Xander's car.

 

"Explanation for that?" Buffy asked in a low tone, in case they could still be overheard. Anya gestured with the cloak in her arms.

 

"It’s a Cloak of Darkness. Big time magick. Giles just noticed we had one missing. You realize what this means. Someone at that party was a shoplifter!" Anya spit out the last word as if it were a particularly vile form of demon.

 

"What does it do, other than make an I'm-a-big-fan-of-Andrew-Lloyd-Webber fashion statement?" Buffy asked curiously. They had reached the car.

 

"When you're wearing one, you're effectively invisible. I told Giles that he needs to lock them up in the back, but oh no, he doesn't listen to me. 'No one can get into the loft without being seen,' he says, and we all know that's not true, don't we?" The last was said with a pointed gesture at Willow, who scowled and opened her mouth to retort. Xander cut her off before a squabble could start.

 

"Hey, do you think maybe this Warren guy took it, to avoid Robo-girlfriend?"

 

"Nope, wouldn't work. The Cloak of Darkness only works when no one is looking for you. If they are they'll see you right away."

 

"Huh? What good is that?" Xander snorted.

 

"Well for one thing it's really good for shoplifting. The person who stole this could have robbed us blind and we'd never know the difference. We're planning on doing a complete inventory of the shop this weekend to see if anything else is missing." The friends made their goodbyes and Xander and Anya drove off to take Buffy home.

 

Tara and Willow walked back to the dorm in silence. As they approached the dorm, Willow looked at Tara, saw she was lost in thought, and nudged her gently.

 

"Huh-what?"

 

"You're frowning."

 

"I am?"

 

"It's cute. It's a cute frown. But smiles are cuter, so we need to turn the frown upside down." Tara favored Willow with a small smile. "That's better, but...what's the matter?"

 

"I'm not sure." The girls had reached their room and both flopped on the bed simultaneously. "What would you say if I told you that I don't remember getting to the party tonight." Willow immediately propped herself up on her elbows to look closely at her girlfriend.

 

"That you had maybe too much to drink...except you didn't have anything to drink. Tara, did you have a blackout?"

 

"No, not exactly. It was like...like tonight, when we were walking home. I was thinking about that Cloak, and who could have taken it, and about how you said I disappeared at the party, and about you in the Magic Box this morning, you know, how you didn't know why you were in the loft?" At Willow's nod, she continued. "So I was thinking about all that, and I was so preoccupied, you know, that I don't actually remember us walking home. It was like that, like I was daydreaming or thinking, except that I don't have a clue what I was thinking about. I can't remember."

 

"That's how I felt this morning. Like I was waking up from a dream but I couldn't remember ...Tara, I'm scared. What's going on?"

 

"It could be nothing." The girls looked at each other doubtfully.

 

"Giles. We need Giles." Willow said, reaching for the phone. Tara put her hand on her arm gently.

 

"It's really late. It'll keep till morning. I think this is, you know, Code Pink." Willow smiled at her, pleased despite her worry.

 

"Okay, in the morning."

 

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Lydia looked out the window as she sipped her tea. She had gotten a few more hours of sleep and when she awakened Aldric was gone. She was looking at Colin's car, still parked across the street but in a different space. *I thought Aldric said he'd be out all night. Guess Colin has a stronger constitution than he thought.*  She had dressed in one of her favorite suits and redone her hair several times.  Now she was dawdling over her teacup because she knew that by the time she got to the Council building Alan would likely already have arrived.  *One probably shouldn’t dread seeing one’s betrothed, especially when they’ve been half a world away for months, but God help me, I do.*  With a sigh, she finally placed the cup in the sink and headed down to the street.  She was only a few blocks from the Council and she planned on walking, but suddenly she found herself crossing the street.  Almost as in in a dream she approached the car where Colin was now desperately trying to make himself invisible.  As she approached he waved a nervous greeting.

 

“Hello, Lydia.  Fancy meeting you here, I dare say it is a small world.”  Lydia smiled at him coldly.

 

“Smaller still when you park in front of my flat, Colin.  What do you think you’re doing?”  Colin immediately dropped his friendly demeanor.

 

“It’s really none of your business, my dear.  Council orders from very high up.”  Colin’s bravado faltered when he got a good look at Lydia’s predatory sneer.  She suddenly put her face up close to his as if she was moving in for a kiss, at the same time she plunged one arm into the car and seized his crotch in a vice-like grip, squeezing ever so slightly. “Lydia, for the love of God!”  Colin squeaked.

 

“Colin, I thought you might want to hear some Council orders from very...low...down,”  Lydia whispered in his ear.  Colin whimpered as she applied more pressure.  “You won’t be following me anymore.  You’re going to be leaving me alone.  And you won’t be reporting any of this back to the Council.  No one would believe you if you did, of course.  But you really don’t want to get on my bad side, do you?”  Colin shook his head violently, a tear streaming down his cheek.

 

“No, Lydia, please...”  She released her grip just as suddenly, standing up and blowing him a kiss.

 

“It was lovely to see you again, Colin.  But I know you have to be going now,”  she called, walking away a bit shakily.  *What was that all about?  I can’t believe I just grabbed him by the...I mean, I never in my life...oh well, it was rather fun!*  Lydia’s face was red with embarrassment, but she practically skipped the rest of the way to the Watcher’s Council.

 

A sense of somberness had returned to Lydia by the time she reached Quentin Traver’s personal offices.  Upon arriving she had received word that she was expected, and she knew that this meant it was likely Alan had arrived.  As she reached up to knock on the door, she heard her name being frantically called from down the hall.  She looked and saw Aldric running towards her, holding the Santiago Codex and looking positively grim.

 

“Aldric, what-”

 

“The wards,”  her brother panted, “Lydia, someone tampered with the wards, and the Codex, the prophecy is gone.  The contraprophecy too, both gone!”

 

“Gone!  How?”  He flipped open the book to where the pages had been, showing her the blank parchment.

 

“Dark magick.  I don’t think it can be undone.  Someone wanted to make certain that no one would use the Codex, Lydia.  And they wanted it very badly.”

 

“And just who would want to do such a thing?”  a new voice asked dryly.  The two turned and saw Alan Travers standing in the doorway, his uncle slightly behind him.  “I mean, according to you it was the means to save Miss Summers.  Except you never could figure out who the Dark Knight was meant to be, isn’t that right?  Once the Slayer’s boyfriend decided to leave for parts unknown. there were no other candidates.  Could be you just wanted to cover up another of your repeated failings.”  Aldric leaped at Alan, pinning him to the wall.  Lydia gasped.

 

“Aldric, let him go!”

 

“You unbelievable bastard.  You had a hand in this!”  Aldric accused as he allowed Quentin and Lydia to pry him off of his future brother-in-law.

 

“But how could I, as I’ve only just arrived?”  Alan spoke calmly, and Quentin glared at Aldric.  Lydia tried to talk to him with her eyes.  *Don’t you see, they’re trying to set you up, to make you look like you’ve become unhinged.  Then no one will listen to anything you say!*

 

“That’s a strong allegation, Aldric.  And one for which you have no proof.  I suggest you leave and calm down before you make yourself more the fool.”  Quentin’s angry tone brooked no argument, and after exchanging one more conversation of glances with his sister, Aldric stormed off.  The three watched him go, then Alan put his arms around Lydia from behind.  She stiffened involuntarily, then forced herself to relax.

 

“Well, that’s certainly not the reunion with my betrothed that I’d hoped for.”  Alan murmured softly in her ear.  “Hello, dearest.”  Lydia allowed herself to be turned and kissed him softly.

 

“Alan.  It’s been too long.”  She hoped and prayed her lie sounded sincere.  Upon settling in Quentin’s office, they spoke for a time about assorted Council business, the health and well-being of Lydia’s father and mother, and of course the progress of Sharonda Martin, the future Slayer that Alan had been monitoring in Australia.  As soon as it could be considered remotely polite, Lydia excused herself to find Aldric.  She searched the Council building, but he had vanished and she could find no one that had seen him.  Gravely concerned, she returned to Quentin’s office.

 

“No luck?” Alan asked, trying to sound considerate and failing miserably.  Before she could answer, a woman’s voice was heard.

 

“Mr. Travers!”  It was Gillian, Quentin’s secretary, her normally unflappable demeanor completely shattered.  “Something terrible has happened!”

 

“If it’s about the Santiago Codex, we’ve heard.”

 

“No, no, it’s so horrible.  Colin Bixby’s been murdered!”

 

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Part 10

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Giles was surprised to hear the knock on the door of the Magic Box.  The shop wasn’t due to open for another couple of  hours, and the gang wouldn’t be meeting to discuss the new robot situation until then. *Perhaps Anya forgot her key.*   Looking outside he saw Willow and Tara wearing identically apprehensive expressions.  *Oh, dear.  Don’t tell me we have something else to worry about.* 

 

“Willow, Tara, has something happened?”  The witches traded glances as they stepped inside, then turned to Giles.

 

“Not exactly,”  Tara started.

 

“We’re not sure,”  Willow said at the same time.  After another glance, Willow continued.  “Something happened to Tara at the party last night, and we think there might be something strange going on.”

 

“A new strange something.  Different from all the other strange somethings,”  Tara added.

 

“Indeed, go on.”  Giles listened with interest as the girls told him of Tara’s missing minutes in overlapping commentary.

 

“It happened to me too, Giles, before you found me in the loft yesterday.”  Willow looked vindicated when Giles nodded thoughtfully.

 

“And then there’s the Cloak of Darkness-”  Giles cut Tara off.

 

“The Cloak of Darkness?  What about it?”

 

“It’s right here,”  Anya said as she entered the shop with a sleepy Xander in tow.  “I told you someone had stolen it.  Did Willow tell you we found it at the party last night?”

 

“I believe she was about to...Anya, why don’t you lock that up in my office?  And maybe I should have you girls look at placing some wards on the loft, to detect intruders?”

 

“And shoplifters!”  Anya called back sharply.  “Something to hold them in place until we can have their hands cut off,” she finished as she emerged from Giles’ office.  Xander cleared his throat.

 

“Anya, I don’t think that the penalties for petty theft are quite that severe anymore.”  Anya looked disappointed.  Giles decided that a return to the subject at hand was in order.

 

“Yes, well, Willow and Tara were just telling me about something they both experienced.”  Giles sketched out the situation with a few interjections from the girls.  Xander looked puzzled and a bit worried, and Anya looked skeptical.

 

“Do you think this is some kind of wacky hellgoddess fun?  You know, brain suckage lite?”  Xander asked.  The others all shook their heads.

 

“It’s a bit subtle for Glory, she strikes me as a splashier girl.  If she were involved I don’t think she’d be so quiet about it,” Willow replied.

 

“And, also, we’re not insane,”  Tara added.

 

“And I think that I may have experienced something similar.”  Giles had been reflecting on that moment where Buffy had called to him in his office, and realized it was the same kind of experience.  “The other night, when we were training with Buffy.  If it had been Glory, the warning spell that Willow and Tara cast on the shop would certainly have been triggered.”

 

“You did disappear for a while,”  Xander agreed slowly.  “I remember Buffy went to look for you when the iceman didn’t cometh.”

 

“Yes, well, at the time I felt it was simple exhaustion, but now I’m not at all certain.  Have either you or Anya experienced anything similar?”  Xander shook his head emphatically, but Anya seemed suddenly uncertain.

 

“Yesterday morning...I was in the loft...” Anya said slowly.

 

“Yes, you were putting away the Etruscan idols,” Giles replied.

 

“What Etruscan idols?”  Anya asked.  Giles stared at her.

 

“You don’t remember, the statue of Tuchulcha, and two others?”

 

“You ordered a summoning idol for an Etruscan hell-demoness?  Are you nuts?”

 

“No, I’m not - Anya, you don’t remember having this conversation with me yesterday?”

 

“Giles, I would remember if we talked about Etruscan hell-demonesses, I mean I know a few things about-”

 

“So someone put the whammy on Anya too, is that what you’re saying.  This is bad, right, really bad, like we-need-Buffy bad?”  Xander had put his arm around Anya possessively, and she smiled in delight.  The others frowned and Tara shook her head uncertainly.

 

“I’m not sure that this...whatever it is...is really bad.  I don’t know how to explain it, it’s just kind of a feeling, like there’s something -”

 

“Warm,”  Giles said simply.

 

“Yes, I feel warm, too.  Like a comfort kind of feeling.”  Willow’s statement was met with nods from the others.  “But it’s just odd.”

 

“Odd but not necessarily bad.  Where do we catalog that, Giles?”  Xander and the others looked up to see Buffy entering the shop, her expression alarmed as she saw the gang already assembled.

 

“Did something...Glory?” she asked.  The others shook their heads collectively, and Buffy sighed in relief.  “Just please don’t tell me there’s a new evil, I don’t think I can take another evil in my life right now.  My evil quota is completely filled.”

 

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“Oh, yeah, you’re the big bad, Spike.  Really evil.”

 

Spike was still lamenting his strategic retreat of last night.  *Should have gotten that Cloak back, I could have waited and gotten it back.  Could have used that bloody crystal on the demon girl.*  If he had a reflection, he’d be scolding it right now.  Instead he had gone down to where he had put together his shrine to Buffy.  Looking at it had always made him feel better in the past, but now it left him rather hollow and ashamed.  Feelings that were way too human for a vampire.

 

And to make it worse, he was doing this big knight in shining armor bit, going around saving people that by all right he should be trying to kill, all for the love of a woman who should be his mortal enemy.  It was enough to plunge him into a full-fledged identity crisis, complete with brooding.  Except that this made him feel way too much like his hated sire.

 

“Snap out of it, son.  What’s the next move?”  He fingered Buffy’s sweater lightly and thought about Dawn.  He knew he’d be able to get to Junior that evening when he got went to fix the window in the Commons.  After that he would head to LA and have a good twenty-four hours to find and zap Angel.  That left little sis, and Spike knew she’d be tricky.  *No one ever leaves that child alone, and I doubt she’ll be paying me another visit to my crypt after...”  He dropped the sweater in momentary disgust and headed back up to the crypt.  Once there he lingered near the doorway briefly, carrying his trusty blanket.

 

“Guess I’d better go back to the Magic Box, see if I can find out where the girl’s going to be at.  And what’s going on with Buffy and her pals and that bird from last night.”  As much as didn’t want to admit it, there was a part of him that was looking forward to this encounter.  He felt unexpected pleasure at the thought of seeing them, knowing that he was helping Buffy and saving their lives.  He was starting to feel like maybe he was a part of it all, and he had the potential to be something more, more to them, more to Buffy.  He closed his eyes and saw Lydia smiling in approval.  *Then, on the other hand, maybe this is just a side effect of having a silly Watcher witch inside my head!*  He gathered the blanket around himself and headed off at top speed as if he could outrun the sunlight.

 

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Lydia once again sipped her tea near the window of her flat, but this time her gaze through the glass was unseeing.  Instead she was replaying the incredibly upsetting events of the last few hours in her head.

 

Colin Bixby’s murder had taken place within the confines of the Watcher’s Council.  This had been considered a stroke of luck by some, because it meant that police involvement could be mitigated through the Council attorneys and a judicious use of magick.  Unfortunately, it also meant that there was no doubt that the murder had been committed by someone who was trusted enough to have been allowed in the Council building, perhaps even a Watcher. 

 

Colin’s body had been found near the translation wing.  The official cause of death was definitely the knife that had been buried in his chest up to the hilt, but there had been definite traces of some kind of magick surrounding him according to those who had been trained to detect those things.  The same magick had wiped clean the security tapes for the entire day, so that there was no record of the murder.  And Alan had deftly manipulated the situation so that suspicion had immediately begun flowing in her brother‘s direction.  The fact that no one had been able to locate Aldric or the Santiago Codex since his altercation with Quentin’s nephew hadn’t helped matters.  The only thing that had kept anyone from outright accusations against her brother was the lack of motive.  While Aldric had made it clear that he had no like or respect of his dim-witted colleague, there had never been any real bad blood between them.  And although none of them would admit it aloud out of deference to the Bixby family, no one felt that Colin would have had the ability to have damaged the Codex through magick.

 

After hours of questioning, Alan had brought Lydia back to her flat.  She had begged off his offers to stay due to her exhaustion, and had been waiting ever since.  Waiting for-

 

“Lydia.”

 

“Aldric.”  His sudden appearance didn’t surprise her in the least.  It was an astral projection she knew, his actual body tucked away someplace he felt safe.

 

“We’re alone?”  There was something in his eyes and his tone that made Lydia begin to feel nervous, almost as if he were afraid of her.  *Which is absurd.*

 

“Quite alone.  Aldric, what happened?” 

 

“You don’t remember?  I came to ask you why!”

 

“Why?  I don’t understand.  Why what?”

 

“Why you killed Colin Bixby!  Lydia, I saw you kill him.”

 

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