Disclaimer: All Buffy characters belong to Joss and Co. I did create a few originals here and there but I release them into the Buffyverse. Fly, be free!
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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.”