jesterladyfic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jesterladyfic) wrote2008-11-13 12:43 pm
jesterladyfic) wrote2008-11-13 12:43 pm
Spiked Faith With a Touch of Nerd: Chapter Three
Chapter Three:
If anybody looked out of place in Africa, it was Andrew. Faith could fit her way in anywhere and Spike had traveled the world for over a hundred years, but Andrew equaled the proverbial sore thumb.
“Where to, boss?”
It was amazing the lack of respect Faith could infuse into that word.
“Well, I got my ruddy soul in some caves over yonder in the next village. Actual tents and tribal customs, that sort of thing. But I think we should show up on Harris’ doorstep and watch him die of disappointment because I’m alive.”
“Ooh, let’s do see Xander. I wish to tell him about our heroics in Sunnydale.”
“One vote then.” Spike looked at Faith who appeared slightly green. “Whaddaya say, Rogue?”
“Whatever you say, boss,” she replied.
Spike’s memory caught up with his perception and he simply said,
“K then, let’s go.”
***
Faith was not comfortable around Xander. It made sense. When you try to kill a guy that you’d slept with, when he’s trying to stop you from killing others, a certain amount of discomfort is to be expected when you show up at his house without warning. But it had been like that for awhile now. Even when they’d lived under the same roof in Sunnydale she hadn’t been at ease. Sure, she'd made wisecracks about having him before Anya, but that was all for show. To make it seem like she was okay and over it.
But Faith wasn’t over it. It had been a relief when after the battle they had all split up and she was far away from anyone she’d wronged. It gave her a chance to adjust to her newfound life without having to constantly fear she would trip some wire and cause the whole mess to come tumbling down on her head. While she wouldn’t exchange not being in jail anymore, it had been a place where she could quietly deal with her issues. And just because she was free now didn’t mean she was suddenly a cheerfully well-adjusted person.
It would be unnerving to see Xander. But Faith reminded herself of all the conversations she’d had with Angel on this subject, usually involving Barry Manilow in some way or another, and squared her shoulders. She might not handle it perfectly, but she could handle it.
***
Xander was working with the local people in dealing with the erratic Slayer problems they had had since Willow’s spell months before. He was doing that and trying to forget his own stupidity and the loss of Anya. Time and the environment had done wonders for him. He looked younger, healthier and more stylish than he had in a couple of years and the eye patch gave him a rakish look. He wasn’t perfect and he wasn’t singing in the shower, but he’d grown up.
This was evidenced by the fact that when he opened the door and saw the First Slayer Rescue Brigade in all their travel worn glory, he simply raised an eyebrow, saying,
“Come in.”
“Oh hell, she told you after all,” Spike grumbled as they went inside.
“Who told me what? Oh, no, I had no clue you guys were coming or that you weren’t dust at the bottom of the Hellmouth. Which, by the way, wow.”
“Didn’t suit me. How’ve you been?”
Xander smiled.
“How do I look?” He spread his arms wide.
“Quite good, actually. Africa agrees with you, mate.”
Faith nodded.
“Looking good enough to eat there, Xan.”
“You look like you’re all dressed up with nobody to jump,” Xander replied, observing her clothes.
“You offering?” she asked.
“I would, but last time my neck got kinda roughed up and I’m thinking it’s in too delicate a shape to risk that again.”
Faith actually flushed and stammered out,
“Yeah, I guess I have that effect.”
Xander smiled, not unkindly and turned to the others.
“So, what brings you all to deepest, darkest South Africa? To see me, ah, you really shouldn’t have.”
Spike explained their mission to him with Andrew interjecting lots of unnecessary comments. Xander’s mouth tightened and his eye narrowed.
“I’ll help. What do you need?”
“Not sure really. But come with us to the caves tonight and we’ll have us a finding out party.”
“Will do.” Xander shivered. “This is all very, very backwards. Buffy rescues me; that’s how it works.”
“Times are rough indeed,” soothed Andrew. “But surely with our combined efforts, our lost one will not be lost to us much longer.”
“Sure. So, can I get you guys something? We’re all about the creature comforts here.”
“Look at the little domestic. Sure, be nice.”
“Ooh, let me help. I’ve improved greatly in my culinary skills since the tomato incident. Xander and I can create artistic masterpieces for you all and catch up-a lot.” Xander did not look greatly pleased at Andrew’s suggestion, but nevertheless, ushered him into the kitchen.
***
Spike and Faith thankfully sat on something that wasn’t an airplane seat.
“My sleep pattern’s so off, I might as well be a vamp too,” she said, exhausted.
“Well, isn’t that what Slayers are? Vamps without the disabilities?”
“I guess.” She chewed her lip. “You know, it’s funny, I never thought about it before. Just grabbed the power and ran with it. Never thought about where it came from.”
“I know the feeling. Try waking up one morning and realizing you can kill every single person who’s ever gotten on your nerves and then doing it. After you claw your way out of your grave, that is.”
Spike idly fingered his smokes before lighting up and tossing her the pack.
“Our pasts ain’t so dissimilar, huh?” she said, tossing them back and her eyes flicked toward the kitchen where sounds of dish-breaking could be heard.
“Except I didn’t sleep with him before I tried to kill him. Thank God.”
Faith’s eyes shot back to his, then she relaxed.
“Don’t miss much, do ya, Blondie?”
“No, my eyes quite frequently channel amazing things back to my follically-fired brain.”
She smiled.
“You weren’t around for that episode. How’d you hear about it?”
“What, you think Buffy and I never talked? We did do things other than screw each other’s brains out, ya know. Before we even did that, she’d come to my crypt and we’d just talk. She needed it...” His voice trailed off, then he refocused. “So you see, I know all your dirty little secrets.”
“Big deal, so does my shrink.”
“Advice then. Don’t sweat the Xander thing. The boy’s done some major growing up. If he can be civil to me, you’re home and clear.”
She shrugged.
“I’m not expecting miracles. No amount of prison can make up for anything I did.”
“And no amount of saving the world can for me. But you know, it’s past. Angel can brood about his crimes all he likes. I’m gonna accept that I did them and move on. That’s called dealing with it. We say we’re sorry like good children and don’t do it again. Coming with?”
“You’re not suggesting some weird, ex-villain accountability club, are you?” Faith asked in horror.
“You bloody daft? You think I want to hear Andrew yammering on about club dues and who gets to hold the red rod of atonement this week? Not bloody likely.”
“Good point.” She relaxed, grinning. “Let’s just muddle on through by ourselves.”
“I’m with you,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes at him.
“So tell me, why did I get two souled vampires for my mentors?”
“Well, obviously with me you know it's a reward. But cause you got Captain Forehead too, well, somebody up there can’t make up their mind about you.”
“I can,” Xander said, entering the room alone. “I know both of you have changed. So have I. Now can we drop it?”
“What? No thrashing out the past and abject apologies for trying to kill each other?” Spike asked cheekily.
“Works for me,” Faith said, putting her feet up.
“Works for us all,” said Xander.
“Let’s eat then,” said Spike. “You got blood, right?”
***
Unlike Spike, Xander used his influence with the tribal chief to gain entrance to the caves. As they went in, Andrew’s eloquence waxed glorious over the ancient pictures on the cave walls. They had flashlights, but it was still difficult to see.
“Wish I had my bloody lighter,” Spike muttered.
“Where’d you leave it, Poor Big Man Missing the Bitty Lighter?” Xander asked.
“Shut up, whelp, remember you’re a nummy treat now,” Spike infused quite a bit of sarcasm into that remark. “Don’t know where it is. I remember using it back in Sunnyhell the night before I, you know, saved the world.”
“You’d think with all that self-sacrifice and burning up to death, you’d have remembered something as important as that,” Xander admonished.
“Funny how your mind plays tricks on you like that when your organs are liquefying and your skin is disintegrating into ash.” Spike turned away into the interior of the cave. “Oi, Lurky. Got a mo for an old client?”
There was a moment and then something moved in the shadows. Two gleaming eyes of aquamarine glimmered in the dark and a deep, raspy voice answered him.
“What is it you seek now, vampire? You have your soul. You have no chip. The girl you desire loves you. What more do you need?”
“Well, the fairytale ending kinda got suckered by the girl being missing and all. You know something about that?”
“Insolence. I am not the cosmic answer for every slight difficulty you face, vampire! I see many things, but I know nothing of this. Now be gone!”
Blue light flared from the eyes and, blinking, the four found themselves outside the caves.
“You sure told him, boss.”
“Whatever are we to do now? Ah, the universal question that haunts us,” Andrew pondered.
“We wait. Not a favorite stratagem of mine, but the only one I got.”
“How not Spike this is of you. I’m disappointed.” Xander seemed to be in shock.
“Don’t know what you’re complaining about. You get three lovely house guests in the meantime.”
Spike wanted to laugh because apparently that hadn’t occurred to Xander before, but his face grew resolved probably because of Buffy.
Three steps from Xander’s, Spike was shot with an arrow that embedded itself two inches from his heart. Faith caught him as he fell, his weight taking her low enough to miss the bullet that would’ve smashed into her skull. A gun appeared like magic in Xander’s hand and he moved in front of them soFaith could drag Spike into the house. As soon as he was in, she returned outside and Andrew took over watching out for Spike. He was already on his feet, but it's a lot harder to bear arrow wounds in places where a good joggle could cause it to dust you than it looks.
More shots rang out. Figures showed slightly against the moonlight in a ring surrounding the house. Faith ducked behind a column supporting the tiny house, Xander was behind its twin on the other side.
“Slayers are strong; we ain’t invulnerable. We gotta get inside,” she called to him.
“Yeah, with you there,” he agreed as a bullet narrowly missed his left ear. During a pause in the shooting, they ducked inside and Andrew slammed shut the door and locked it. Spike had done the same to the back door and put something in front of the two small windows.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say someone doesn’t like you very much,” Xander told the wounded Spike.
“He always was an observant lad,” Spike said to nobody in particular. “Let’s get on with the taking out of the arrow in my bloody heart!”
“Uh, it’s not in your heart, Spike,” Andrew good-naturedly corrected. “If it were you’d be dead and dust by now.”
“Thanks, Captain Anatomy. Just get it out!”
“Done,” said Faith, ripping it out of him. “Feel better?”
“Oh, ever so,” Spike managed, gasping with pain. “Much better than the time Captain Cardboard shiskebobbed me with his plastic stake.”
“Riley did what?” Xander asked.
“Boy got himself a toy plastic stake and played target practice with my vital organ. It was during his dark phase, playacting at being low enough for Buffy.” Spike thought a moment. “That didn’t come out right. Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Just filed for blackmail,” Xander assured him.
“Well, you can wire congrats to Soldier-Boy later. Now we got a siege and an arrow wound.”
Xander helped him sit down and Faith began dressing the wound and examining it for stray splinters. Xander started to turn away and then stopped.
“I wouldn’t have congratulated him, Spike. That was- it was-“
“Twisted wrong, man,” Faith put in. “I’ve been there, I know.”
“What she said - without the having done it part.”
Spike looked surprised, but pleased at Xander’s agreement with Faith’s assessment.
“All patched up, Blondie.” Faith helped him sit up.
“Bedside manner’s quite refreshing there, luv. Maybe you missed your real calling and the whole Slayer thing’s supposed to be a side gig.”
“Thanks for the affirmation, but let’s save it till after we figure out who the hell is shooting at us.”
“You like to take all the fun out of unlife,” he said.
“I could be wrong,” Xander said, “but I thought I saw several people dressed in…tweed.”
“Tweed?” asked Spike and Faith, incredulously.
“Tweed,” he confirmed.
“Call Giles,” Spike instructed.
Xander nodded and crawled across the floor to the telephone.
“Call the police while you’re at it.”
“Silly, silly Californian girl,” Andrew condescended. “They don’t have police over here.”
As Faith went to twist Andrew’s ears off and he whimpered like a little girl, Xander brightened.
“But they do have a special team of mystics who could help. I’ll see if they can’t do a shield thingy like Willow did when the crazy knights were after Dawn.” He dialed a number and started speaking in a primitive dialect. Andrew, running from Faith, stopped to stare at Xander in respect, a little of Andrew’s hero-worship seeming to transfer from Spike to Xander in homage of his new linguistic capabilities.
“Five minutes or so,” Xander said, hanging up the phone.
“Don’t got them. Door’s not gonna hold that long,” Faith said.
A few tense moments passed as the shooting got closer and footsteps resounded around the house. Then there was a whooshing sound and the bullets stopped hitting the house. A shout went up from outside. Xander crawled to the door and looked out.
“Definite shield-age,” he said in triumph, “and we got us a stowaway inside.”
“Well, bring them on in to join the party. Maybe they can tell us why we’re having it in the first place.” Faith grinned wickedly.
Xander smiled back and, going outside, hauled in a dark figure dressed in what can only be described as camo tweed.
He was a man in his late forties, with pale yellow hair and paint on his cheeks. Defiance on his face, he struggled with Xander and made a break for the door. In one casual motion, Spike stuck out his foot and the man tripped and fell headlong. Faith picked him up easily and plopped him on the couch, tying his hands with a roll of duct tape handed to her by Xander.
“Easy there, Tweedy-Bird, we just wanna talk,” she said, ripping the tape with her teeth.
“Harris, check to see that the shield is actually keeping the rest of these blighters out,” Spike said, settling himself down more comfortably, vampire healing already in effect.
“Right.” Xander headed outside moving cautiously while Andrew watched the door.
“You won’t be able to defeat us. We represent a cause greater than you know,” their captive said in a tell-tale British accent.
“Cripes, how did I know it was the Tweed-Brigade?” Spike asked himself, sighing.
“I will not listen to that thing speak. He is a monster.”
“And was before you were born, mate. Don’t bother me none, what’s eating you then?” Spike smiled. His smile was friendly and quite soulful - to use an old term - but there was a dangerous edge to it, a primal force that the Watcher could easily see. Spike knew it made him nervous. Spike was, after all, one of the worst recorded vampires in history, few could match his kill ratio, none his Slayers destroyed.
Spike could almost see the man deciding appearances had to be kept up and to nobly give his life for the cause if necessary.
“What is eating me, as you punningly put it, is the fact that you are yet not breathing, William the Bloody. We of the Council have put it upon ourselves to make sure you are dust so that not one more life may be taken by you.”
“You boys still got the old data then. I’m good now. Though it’s a work in progress.” Spike showed teeth, completely human, but the message got through.
The man gulped but obviously strove to speak smoothly.
“Whatever you think you will gain from your facade is pointless. We will see justice done.”
“I’m curious,” Faith put in. “You deal out justice for human types too, Slayer types even, cause I remember some of your types coming after me, me being a murderer and all. I can understand that, back then. But if I’m not mistaken, the Council was the thing that got the law off my back. Doing a little renegade on your down time?”
“We do not serve that bunch of traitors,” he spat out. “We serve the true meaning of what the Council was formed for. We will see it carried out through whatever means necessary, and yes, you will be one of our cases, though not yet. First, we deal with the vampire.”
“Bang up job there,” Spike told him. “Still kicking, if not alive.”
“It will happen, if not by us, then by others.”
“Right, well, bored with this conversation. Andrew, call Giles.”
“I’m on it, Fearless Leader.”
Andrew reached for the phone and called Rome. Giles answered the phone rather groggily. Andrew perkily relayed what was going on and then handed the phone to Faith.
“Yeah, here’s the sitch: looks like they’re gunning for Blondie here. Know of any Council used-to-bes running around looking for vengeance?”
“Well, certainly yes. There were factions of the old remnant left when we reformed the Council and they were most displeased with our new policies. I don’t know any who would band together to join this, whatever it is. It seems to be a most intricate conspiracy, though.”
Xander came back through the door.
“Shield’s doing great. No one can get in or out. How’s the interrogation going?”
“Well, Watchers don’t like me. Nothing new. Giles maybe can give us the skinny. Rogue, let him talk to Tweed-man here.”
Faith stuck the phone to the Watcher’s ear and he grudgingly said,
“Hello?”
Spike listend to both sides of the conversation.
“Briars?” came Giles’ astonished voice.
“Rupert,” was the reply.
“Whatever are you doing?”
“What must be done. You know what happened to me. You remember Vienna, the orphanage. I was young but I saw what this thing did to our team, to the children, Rupert.”
“Oh, come off it,” Spike interrupted, looking a little green at the reminder. “I can’t take it back and killing me won’t either.”
“But it will be justice done,” Briars shouted.
“It will be vengeance that will eat at you for nothing,” Giles answered bitterly. “The past must be allowed to remain in the past or it will control you.”
“I refuse to speak about it any further,” Briars replied. “Let them kill me or no.”
Faith took the phone back.
“So, Giles, what do you think?”
“I’m not sure. There are others outside, you say?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, wait till morning, take the shield down and return to the caves. That seems to be the location used to lure you down. It must have some importance.”
“Got it, G. Thanks.” Faith hung up and turned to the others. “Let’s ride out the storm.”
***
By morning, Spike was in full fighting form, a bit slow perhaps, but that didn’t matter seeing as there was no one to fight. As the sun came up and the village’s occupants emerged to go about their day, the unseen assailants disappeared leaving the disheveled Briars behind. This did not seem to surprise or worry him.
“The shield won’t last long past dawn,” Xander said tiredly, his face drawn from lack of sleep.
“Looks like we won’t need it past then,” Faith answered, yawning. “They’re gone.”
“You lot get some sleep,” Spike told them, concern he tried to hide showing on his face. “I got more rest than you and I’ll keep an eye on the Avenger Watcher here. Maybe we’ll have us something to talk about.”
The other three wearily agreed and Xander sent Faith into his tiny bedroom. He and Andrew, as far apart as possible, took the couch, while Spike settled his charge in the darkened kitchen. Briars slumped in his chair, the camouflage paint melting in rivulets down his face as the day grew warmer, and glared at the vampire in front of him who didn’t feel the heat.
“Right then,” Spike started, “you don’t like me and I can appreciate that. I really can. But when it comes down to you kidnapping an innocent bystander in order to get to m-“
“She’s no innocent,” Briars growled in protest.
“So you know who I’m talking about? Goody, we caught us no stupid flunky here, but a real high up general.” Spike’s voice smacked of satisfaction. Briars’ eyes grew wide as he realized what he’d given away. “Ah, well, no use denying it. You know where the Slayer, name of Buffy, is, or what happened to her.”
“I have no idea where she is,” Briars replied defiantly.
“That’s funny, cause you know, I’ve never been much for torture. Angel’s gig, not mine. But all of a sudden, I feel a new passion for learning coming on.”
Spike’s face flickered and in the dim light the other man wouldn't be able to see it properly, but he could surely detect a yellow gleam where the eyes should be and would know what happened. Briars blanched and he swallowed hard, but he held onto his answer stubbornly.
“I do not know where she is. No one does.”
“Who’s no one?”
“No one I know. We all knew of her disappearance, but not where to.”
“How’d she disappear? How’d they get her?” Spike’s voice was incredulous. “Tell me how the Slayer was brought down by a bunch of Watchers and don’t tell me it involved Giles and a green card. That excuse is a mite worn out, mate.”
Briars bristled when Spike called him mate, but responded wearily.
“Everyone has their weaknesses. She happens to have one connected with the Council.”
“Of course she’s got bloody weaknesses. Believe me, I’m the one who gets to see them. Tell me how you know about them, Council-man.”
Briars shut his mouth.
“I refuse to speak with you any longer.”
Spike smiled lazily and casually draped his arm across Briars’ shoulders, bringing his demonic face up close to his.
“Well, that’s too bad now. If you knew me, you’d know I just love to talk and I get really violent when people try to stifle that.”
Briars sighed and seemed to undergo a violent inner struggle before replying.
“There’s a test all Slayers undergo at the age of eighteen to ensure their capability as the Slayer-”
Spike snapped his fingers.
“Right, told me all about that, she did. So, you used this strength-reducing magic potion on her.”
“Yes, we provided that information. It was given to her indiscriminately through public service and when she went to meet her opponent, she had no strength to resist.”
“So the Immortal is behind this.” Spike grimaced. “I bleeding knew it. That sodding wanker.”
“I never said that,” Briars said sharply.
“Who snatched her then? Or them both?”
“I am not privy to that information. All I know is that she is being held in a secure location and we are to dispose of you and any others helping you.”
“That’s going well,” Spike said absently.
He was thinking. One of the benefits of being as honest and truthful as he sometimes forced himself to be was that he was hard to lie to. When you hold to the truth and only the truth, painful though it is, you recognize it in others and can clearly see their motivations.
People had often attributed Spike’s incredible perception to supernatural means. They would say it was a special vampire trick or a spell. But it was simply his decision to never lie to himself or others that lent him the ability to pierce through the confusing fog of people’s intentions and get to the root of their feelings. That's not to say he never lied or repressed, but he’d rather face something head on, unflinchingly, then to blunder around in self-inflicted justifications. He needed to know the truth, to know how people really felt. Feelings and truth were his strengths, that and a wicked sense of humor, vampire constitution and incredible good looks, of course.
So Briars wasn’t lying. That meant Buffy truly needed to be rescued and as soon as it was dark, they needed to get the caves to find out where she was being held from the other Watchers, kick their asses and maybe get out of this incredibly hot country with all the sun.
“You’ve been a big help, really and I feel very close to you now,” he told Briars, who blanched. Spike moved to the tiny refrigeration unit and pulled out some blood. Briars watched Spike with incredible distaste as he gulped down the thick liquid. Spike smiled at Briars with blood-stained lips.
“Want some? Or how about donating a little to the cause?”
“Never!” Briars spat out.
“Relax, mate. Your blood’s probably not very tasty anyhow. You’re safe for now. Better get some shut-eye before dark though, you’ve had a rough night.”
Briars shuddered as Spike grinned and drank the rest of the blood.
***
As soon as the sun went down the foursome were once again on their way to the caves, this time dragging Briars along with them. The moon shone brightly, lighting up the sand as if it were day, casting shadows from the scrub bushes and natural rock piles scattered around.
Of all people it was Andrew who noticed the moon light gleaming off the shotgun barrels and he tackled Spike, sending him to the ground as it went off and forcing Spike to release his hold on Briars who scrambled to rejoin his companions. Spike swore under his breath and pulled Andrew behind an outcropping of rock. The hit to the ground had banged his chest, digging deep into the arrow wound from the night before. It took Spike a moment to get his bearings and when he found them, he saw Faith and Xander had joined them under shelter.
“Getting real sick of this ambush thing, boss,” Faith said.
“Really? Well, just pop on out and tell the nice Watchers that.” Spike gestured to the fanatic, well-aiming Watchers. “I’m sure they’ll stop in a jiffy if you just say so.”
“Got any ideas besides smart comments, Dead Boy?” Xander asked him.
“Let’s end it.”
So saying, Spike leapt from his hiding position, soared through the air and landed in the middle of the Watchers. They grabbed at him, each anxious to be the one to end him, their zeal stealing from them the rational thoughts that would’ve told them to just blow his head off and be done with it.
Xander pulled out a pair of guns from his pockets and handed one to Andrew.
“Don’t worry about hitting Spike,” Xander told the wide-eyed Andrew. “Just get as many Watchers out of the game as possible.”
Andrew nodded, his eyes set and determined in his task. He probably would’ve made a grand speech too, only there wasn’t time.
The three launched themselves into the fight, guns blazing. They won the day, as the Watchers had recovered some of their senses and were starting to employ their guns. There were about twenty of them and probably as many as ten were dispatched by the gun skills of Xander and Andrew. Of course Spike was doing just fine and with Faith at his side, soon every Watcher was dead or unconscious.
“Barely worth it.” Spike straightened up, grinning and examining about five bullet holes scattered over his person. “But good exercise.”
Xander rolled his eyes and collected guns from the fallen.
“What should we do with them?”
“Leave the dead, take the wounded to the village. Blondie and I will go back to the caves,” Faith instructed, holding her right arm tightly, staunching the blood from her own bullet wounds. Xander nodded and he and Andrew went to work.
Spike and Faith walked to the caves and almost immediately spotted an identical paper to the two they already had. Spike picked it up from under a rock and they read:
‘Second Hell; you’ve never been,
But the dark one there atones her sin.’
“Bloody interesting that,” Spike commented. “But I’m stumped now. What’s it mean?”
“We’re going home,” Faith replied. “To Cleveland.”
“I get it now.” Spike smiled, proud of himself. “Writer’s almost as bad as I am. I’d bet you anything Cecily’d never take him over me.”
“You write? Who’s Cecily? Spill the details of that dirty secret, boss,” Faith prodded, catching the hints of a story Spike had unwittingly thrown her.
“Not while you’re breathing,” he answered and they headed back to help the other two, Faith bugging him the whole time to reveal his closet writing habits.
***
Xander and Spike made a clandestine visit to the village healing rooms and did a little interrogating. All the Watchers said the same as Briars. Spike sighed in frustration on the way back to Xander’s hut.
“Either we killed the ones with the know-how or they’re the best bloody liars I’ve ever seen.”
“Take it easy, you’ve got where to head to next,” Xander comforted Spike and nearly fell over backwards at the thought of it.
“Another place, another fight, no Buffy. This little chase-the-badly-written-clues game is getting real old.”
Xander nodded, thinking of who they were looking for.
“It’s the Buffster, though. I wish I could go with you guys to help, bad company notwithstanding.”
“Keep it up, whelp,” Spike said, smacking Xander upside the head in the same way he had in the hospital in Sunnydale during the Glory episode. This time, however, only Xander held his head in pain. But it was mock pain more than anything else; Spike’s hand was gentler than his earlier self.
“If we didn’t need you right now, I gag at the thought, I’d go back to staking you,” Xander told him.
“Yeah, you always did that so well,” Spike replied, grinning. “I almost miss it.” Spike turned suddenly serious and hesitated before speaking again. “Speaking of old staking attempts, I’m sorry about Anya.” Xander looked uncomfortable. “We weren’t trying to hurt you. We both were hurting and took comfort in the other, that’s all. She was a bloody great woman, spoke what others thought, like me, and I’m sorry for your loss. For all our loss.”
Spike looked about as disturbed as Xander felt, but they both walked in silence for awhile, digesting Spike’s words.
“Forget it,” Xander finally replied. “Thank you.” Then with more zest, “But what happened to the no digging up the past?”
“Oh right. Sorry. Won’t do it again.”
“This one’s for the diary, Spike apologized twice in as many minutes. Gotta remember that,” Xander teased.
“The strong, rakish, manly man keeps a diary?” Spike inquired, a dry edge to his voice.
Xander winced.
***
They updated Giles on what had happened and he promised to send them the antidote for the strength-reducer Buffy had been sedated with. Hanging up the phone, Spike turned to Xander and stuck out his hand.
“We’ll see you later, mate. Gotta keep hunting.”
“Let me know what’s going on,” Xander said, shaking Spike’s pro offered hand.
“Sure thing.” Spike put on his duster and waited by the door.
Faith slapped Xander’s hand and offered an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. Xander nodded, both of them understanding that the past was now the past. Andrew grabbed Xander in a bone-crunching hug and promised to write him long letters giving intimate details of The Great Buffy Search executed by the First Slayer Rescue Brigade. And then they were gone, headed to Cleveland, where, Faith reflected, at least she’d have her own bed.
If anybody looked out of place in Africa, it was Andrew. Faith could fit her way in anywhere and Spike had traveled the world for over a hundred years, but Andrew equaled the proverbial sore thumb.
“Where to, boss?”
It was amazing the lack of respect Faith could infuse into that word.
“Well, I got my ruddy soul in some caves over yonder in the next village. Actual tents and tribal customs, that sort of thing. But I think we should show up on Harris’ doorstep and watch him die of disappointment because I’m alive.”
“Ooh, let’s do see Xander. I wish to tell him about our heroics in Sunnydale.”
“One vote then.” Spike looked at Faith who appeared slightly green. “Whaddaya say, Rogue?”
“Whatever you say, boss,” she replied.
Spike’s memory caught up with his perception and he simply said,
“K then, let’s go.”
***
Faith was not comfortable around Xander. It made sense. When you try to kill a guy that you’d slept with, when he’s trying to stop you from killing others, a certain amount of discomfort is to be expected when you show up at his house without warning. But it had been like that for awhile now. Even when they’d lived under the same roof in Sunnydale she hadn’t been at ease. Sure, she'd made wisecracks about having him before Anya, but that was all for show. To make it seem like she was okay and over it.
But Faith wasn’t over it. It had been a relief when after the battle they had all split up and she was far away from anyone she’d wronged. It gave her a chance to adjust to her newfound life without having to constantly fear she would trip some wire and cause the whole mess to come tumbling down on her head. While she wouldn’t exchange not being in jail anymore, it had been a place where she could quietly deal with her issues. And just because she was free now didn’t mean she was suddenly a cheerfully well-adjusted person.
It would be unnerving to see Xander. But Faith reminded herself of all the conversations she’d had with Angel on this subject, usually involving Barry Manilow in some way or another, and squared her shoulders. She might not handle it perfectly, but she could handle it.
***
Xander was working with the local people in dealing with the erratic Slayer problems they had had since Willow’s spell months before. He was doing that and trying to forget his own stupidity and the loss of Anya. Time and the environment had done wonders for him. He looked younger, healthier and more stylish than he had in a couple of years and the eye patch gave him a rakish look. He wasn’t perfect and he wasn’t singing in the shower, but he’d grown up.
This was evidenced by the fact that when he opened the door and saw the First Slayer Rescue Brigade in all their travel worn glory, he simply raised an eyebrow, saying,
“Come in.”
“Oh hell, she told you after all,” Spike grumbled as they went inside.
“Who told me what? Oh, no, I had no clue you guys were coming or that you weren’t dust at the bottom of the Hellmouth. Which, by the way, wow.”
“Didn’t suit me. How’ve you been?”
Xander smiled.
“How do I look?” He spread his arms wide.
“Quite good, actually. Africa agrees with you, mate.”
Faith nodded.
“Looking good enough to eat there, Xan.”
“You look like you’re all dressed up with nobody to jump,” Xander replied, observing her clothes.
“You offering?” she asked.
“I would, but last time my neck got kinda roughed up and I’m thinking it’s in too delicate a shape to risk that again.”
Faith actually flushed and stammered out,
“Yeah, I guess I have that effect.”
Xander smiled, not unkindly and turned to the others.
“So, what brings you all to deepest, darkest South Africa? To see me, ah, you really shouldn’t have.”
Spike explained their mission to him with Andrew interjecting lots of unnecessary comments. Xander’s mouth tightened and his eye narrowed.
“I’ll help. What do you need?”
“Not sure really. But come with us to the caves tonight and we’ll have us a finding out party.”
“Will do.” Xander shivered. “This is all very, very backwards. Buffy rescues me; that’s how it works.”
“Times are rough indeed,” soothed Andrew. “But surely with our combined efforts, our lost one will not be lost to us much longer.”
“Sure. So, can I get you guys something? We’re all about the creature comforts here.”
“Look at the little domestic. Sure, be nice.”
“Ooh, let me help. I’ve improved greatly in my culinary skills since the tomato incident. Xander and I can create artistic masterpieces for you all and catch up-a lot.” Xander did not look greatly pleased at Andrew’s suggestion, but nevertheless, ushered him into the kitchen.
***
Spike and Faith thankfully sat on something that wasn’t an airplane seat.
“My sleep pattern’s so off, I might as well be a vamp too,” she said, exhausted.
“Well, isn’t that what Slayers are? Vamps without the disabilities?”
“I guess.” She chewed her lip. “You know, it’s funny, I never thought about it before. Just grabbed the power and ran with it. Never thought about where it came from.”
“I know the feeling. Try waking up one morning and realizing you can kill every single person who’s ever gotten on your nerves and then doing it. After you claw your way out of your grave, that is.”
Spike idly fingered his smokes before lighting up and tossing her the pack.
“Our pasts ain’t so dissimilar, huh?” she said, tossing them back and her eyes flicked toward the kitchen where sounds of dish-breaking could be heard.
“Except I didn’t sleep with him before I tried to kill him. Thank God.”
Faith’s eyes shot back to his, then she relaxed.
“Don’t miss much, do ya, Blondie?”
“No, my eyes quite frequently channel amazing things back to my follically-fired brain.”
She smiled.
“You weren’t around for that episode. How’d you hear about it?”
“What, you think Buffy and I never talked? We did do things other than screw each other’s brains out, ya know. Before we even did that, she’d come to my crypt and we’d just talk. She needed it...” His voice trailed off, then he refocused. “So you see, I know all your dirty little secrets.”
“Big deal, so does my shrink.”
“Advice then. Don’t sweat the Xander thing. The boy’s done some major growing up. If he can be civil to me, you’re home and clear.”
She shrugged.
“I’m not expecting miracles. No amount of prison can make up for anything I did.”
“And no amount of saving the world can for me. But you know, it’s past. Angel can brood about his crimes all he likes. I’m gonna accept that I did them and move on. That’s called dealing with it. We say we’re sorry like good children and don’t do it again. Coming with?”
“You’re not suggesting some weird, ex-villain accountability club, are you?” Faith asked in horror.
“You bloody daft? You think I want to hear Andrew yammering on about club dues and who gets to hold the red rod of atonement this week? Not bloody likely.”
“Good point.” She relaxed, grinning. “Let’s just muddle on through by ourselves.”
“I’m with you,” he told her.
She rolled her eyes at him.
“So tell me, why did I get two souled vampires for my mentors?”
“Well, obviously with me you know it's a reward. But cause you got Captain Forehead too, well, somebody up there can’t make up their mind about you.”
“I can,” Xander said, entering the room alone. “I know both of you have changed. So have I. Now can we drop it?”
“What? No thrashing out the past and abject apologies for trying to kill each other?” Spike asked cheekily.
“Works for me,” Faith said, putting her feet up.
“Works for us all,” said Xander.
“Let’s eat then,” said Spike. “You got blood, right?”
***
Unlike Spike, Xander used his influence with the tribal chief to gain entrance to the caves. As they went in, Andrew’s eloquence waxed glorious over the ancient pictures on the cave walls. They had flashlights, but it was still difficult to see.
“Wish I had my bloody lighter,” Spike muttered.
“Where’d you leave it, Poor Big Man Missing the Bitty Lighter?” Xander asked.
“Shut up, whelp, remember you’re a nummy treat now,” Spike infused quite a bit of sarcasm into that remark. “Don’t know where it is. I remember using it back in Sunnyhell the night before I, you know, saved the world.”
“You’d think with all that self-sacrifice and burning up to death, you’d have remembered something as important as that,” Xander admonished.
“Funny how your mind plays tricks on you like that when your organs are liquefying and your skin is disintegrating into ash.” Spike turned away into the interior of the cave. “Oi, Lurky. Got a mo for an old client?”
There was a moment and then something moved in the shadows. Two gleaming eyes of aquamarine glimmered in the dark and a deep, raspy voice answered him.
“What is it you seek now, vampire? You have your soul. You have no chip. The girl you desire loves you. What more do you need?”
“Well, the fairytale ending kinda got suckered by the girl being missing and all. You know something about that?”
“Insolence. I am not the cosmic answer for every slight difficulty you face, vampire! I see many things, but I know nothing of this. Now be gone!”
Blue light flared from the eyes and, blinking, the four found themselves outside the caves.
“You sure told him, boss.”
“Whatever are we to do now? Ah, the universal question that haunts us,” Andrew pondered.
“We wait. Not a favorite stratagem of mine, but the only one I got.”
“How not Spike this is of you. I’m disappointed.” Xander seemed to be in shock.
“Don’t know what you’re complaining about. You get three lovely house guests in the meantime.”
Spike wanted to laugh because apparently that hadn’t occurred to Xander before, but his face grew resolved probably because of Buffy.
Three steps from Xander’s, Spike was shot with an arrow that embedded itself two inches from his heart. Faith caught him as he fell, his weight taking her low enough to miss the bullet that would’ve smashed into her skull. A gun appeared like magic in Xander’s hand and he moved in front of them soFaith could drag Spike into the house. As soon as he was in, she returned outside and Andrew took over watching out for Spike. He was already on his feet, but it's a lot harder to bear arrow wounds in places where a good joggle could cause it to dust you than it looks.
More shots rang out. Figures showed slightly against the moonlight in a ring surrounding the house. Faith ducked behind a column supporting the tiny house, Xander was behind its twin on the other side.
“Slayers are strong; we ain’t invulnerable. We gotta get inside,” she called to him.
“Yeah, with you there,” he agreed as a bullet narrowly missed his left ear. During a pause in the shooting, they ducked inside and Andrew slammed shut the door and locked it. Spike had done the same to the back door and put something in front of the two small windows.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say someone doesn’t like you very much,” Xander told the wounded Spike.
“He always was an observant lad,” Spike said to nobody in particular. “Let’s get on with the taking out of the arrow in my bloody heart!”
“Uh, it’s not in your heart, Spike,” Andrew good-naturedly corrected. “If it were you’d be dead and dust by now.”
“Thanks, Captain Anatomy. Just get it out!”
“Done,” said Faith, ripping it out of him. “Feel better?”
“Oh, ever so,” Spike managed, gasping with pain. “Much better than the time Captain Cardboard shiskebobbed me with his plastic stake.”
“Riley did what?” Xander asked.
“Boy got himself a toy plastic stake and played target practice with my vital organ. It was during his dark phase, playacting at being low enough for Buffy.” Spike thought a moment. “That didn’t come out right. Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Just filed for blackmail,” Xander assured him.
“Well, you can wire congrats to Soldier-Boy later. Now we got a siege and an arrow wound.”
Xander helped him sit down and Faith began dressing the wound and examining it for stray splinters. Xander started to turn away and then stopped.
“I wouldn’t have congratulated him, Spike. That was- it was-“
“Twisted wrong, man,” Faith put in. “I’ve been there, I know.”
“What she said - without the having done it part.”
Spike looked surprised, but pleased at Xander’s agreement with Faith’s assessment.
“All patched up, Blondie.” Faith helped him sit up.
“Bedside manner’s quite refreshing there, luv. Maybe you missed your real calling and the whole Slayer thing’s supposed to be a side gig.”
“Thanks for the affirmation, but let’s save it till after we figure out who the hell is shooting at us.”
“You like to take all the fun out of unlife,” he said.
“I could be wrong,” Xander said, “but I thought I saw several people dressed in…tweed.”
“Tweed?” asked Spike and Faith, incredulously.
“Tweed,” he confirmed.
“Call Giles,” Spike instructed.
Xander nodded and crawled across the floor to the telephone.
“Call the police while you’re at it.”
“Silly, silly Californian girl,” Andrew condescended. “They don’t have police over here.”
As Faith went to twist Andrew’s ears off and he whimpered like a little girl, Xander brightened.
“But they do have a special team of mystics who could help. I’ll see if they can’t do a shield thingy like Willow did when the crazy knights were after Dawn.” He dialed a number and started speaking in a primitive dialect. Andrew, running from Faith, stopped to stare at Xander in respect, a little of Andrew’s hero-worship seeming to transfer from Spike to Xander in homage of his new linguistic capabilities.
“Five minutes or so,” Xander said, hanging up the phone.
“Don’t got them. Door’s not gonna hold that long,” Faith said.
A few tense moments passed as the shooting got closer and footsteps resounded around the house. Then there was a whooshing sound and the bullets stopped hitting the house. A shout went up from outside. Xander crawled to the door and looked out.
“Definite shield-age,” he said in triumph, “and we got us a stowaway inside.”
“Well, bring them on in to join the party. Maybe they can tell us why we’re having it in the first place.” Faith grinned wickedly.
Xander smiled back and, going outside, hauled in a dark figure dressed in what can only be described as camo tweed.
He was a man in his late forties, with pale yellow hair and paint on his cheeks. Defiance on his face, he struggled with Xander and made a break for the door. In one casual motion, Spike stuck out his foot and the man tripped and fell headlong. Faith picked him up easily and plopped him on the couch, tying his hands with a roll of duct tape handed to her by Xander.
“Easy there, Tweedy-Bird, we just wanna talk,” she said, ripping the tape with her teeth.
“Harris, check to see that the shield is actually keeping the rest of these blighters out,” Spike said, settling himself down more comfortably, vampire healing already in effect.
“Right.” Xander headed outside moving cautiously while Andrew watched the door.
“You won’t be able to defeat us. We represent a cause greater than you know,” their captive said in a tell-tale British accent.
“Cripes, how did I know it was the Tweed-Brigade?” Spike asked himself, sighing.
“I will not listen to that thing speak. He is a monster.”
“And was before you were born, mate. Don’t bother me none, what’s eating you then?” Spike smiled. His smile was friendly and quite soulful - to use an old term - but there was a dangerous edge to it, a primal force that the Watcher could easily see. Spike knew it made him nervous. Spike was, after all, one of the worst recorded vampires in history, few could match his kill ratio, none his Slayers destroyed.
Spike could almost see the man deciding appearances had to be kept up and to nobly give his life for the cause if necessary.
“What is eating me, as you punningly put it, is the fact that you are yet not breathing, William the Bloody. We of the Council have put it upon ourselves to make sure you are dust so that not one more life may be taken by you.”
“You boys still got the old data then. I’m good now. Though it’s a work in progress.” Spike showed teeth, completely human, but the message got through.
The man gulped but obviously strove to speak smoothly.
“Whatever you think you will gain from your facade is pointless. We will see justice done.”
“I’m curious,” Faith put in. “You deal out justice for human types too, Slayer types even, cause I remember some of your types coming after me, me being a murderer and all. I can understand that, back then. But if I’m not mistaken, the Council was the thing that got the law off my back. Doing a little renegade on your down time?”
“We do not serve that bunch of traitors,” he spat out. “We serve the true meaning of what the Council was formed for. We will see it carried out through whatever means necessary, and yes, you will be one of our cases, though not yet. First, we deal with the vampire.”
“Bang up job there,” Spike told him. “Still kicking, if not alive.”
“It will happen, if not by us, then by others.”
“Right, well, bored with this conversation. Andrew, call Giles.”
“I’m on it, Fearless Leader.”
Andrew reached for the phone and called Rome. Giles answered the phone rather groggily. Andrew perkily relayed what was going on and then handed the phone to Faith.
“Yeah, here’s the sitch: looks like they’re gunning for Blondie here. Know of any Council used-to-bes running around looking for vengeance?”
“Well, certainly yes. There were factions of the old remnant left when we reformed the Council and they were most displeased with our new policies. I don’t know any who would band together to join this, whatever it is. It seems to be a most intricate conspiracy, though.”
Xander came back through the door.
“Shield’s doing great. No one can get in or out. How’s the interrogation going?”
“Well, Watchers don’t like me. Nothing new. Giles maybe can give us the skinny. Rogue, let him talk to Tweed-man here.”
Faith stuck the phone to the Watcher’s ear and he grudgingly said,
“Hello?”
Spike listend to both sides of the conversation.
“Briars?” came Giles’ astonished voice.
“Rupert,” was the reply.
“Whatever are you doing?”
“What must be done. You know what happened to me. You remember Vienna, the orphanage. I was young but I saw what this thing did to our team, to the children, Rupert.”
“Oh, come off it,” Spike interrupted, looking a little green at the reminder. “I can’t take it back and killing me won’t either.”
“But it will be justice done,” Briars shouted.
“It will be vengeance that will eat at you for nothing,” Giles answered bitterly. “The past must be allowed to remain in the past or it will control you.”
“I refuse to speak about it any further,” Briars replied. “Let them kill me or no.”
Faith took the phone back.
“So, Giles, what do you think?”
“I’m not sure. There are others outside, you say?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, wait till morning, take the shield down and return to the caves. That seems to be the location used to lure you down. It must have some importance.”
“Got it, G. Thanks.” Faith hung up and turned to the others. “Let’s ride out the storm.”
***
By morning, Spike was in full fighting form, a bit slow perhaps, but that didn’t matter seeing as there was no one to fight. As the sun came up and the village’s occupants emerged to go about their day, the unseen assailants disappeared leaving the disheveled Briars behind. This did not seem to surprise or worry him.
“The shield won’t last long past dawn,” Xander said tiredly, his face drawn from lack of sleep.
“Looks like we won’t need it past then,” Faith answered, yawning. “They’re gone.”
“You lot get some sleep,” Spike told them, concern he tried to hide showing on his face. “I got more rest than you and I’ll keep an eye on the Avenger Watcher here. Maybe we’ll have us something to talk about.”
The other three wearily agreed and Xander sent Faith into his tiny bedroom. He and Andrew, as far apart as possible, took the couch, while Spike settled his charge in the darkened kitchen. Briars slumped in his chair, the camouflage paint melting in rivulets down his face as the day grew warmer, and glared at the vampire in front of him who didn’t feel the heat.
“Right then,” Spike started, “you don’t like me and I can appreciate that. I really can. But when it comes down to you kidnapping an innocent bystander in order to get to m-“
“She’s no innocent,” Briars growled in protest.
“So you know who I’m talking about? Goody, we caught us no stupid flunky here, but a real high up general.” Spike’s voice smacked of satisfaction. Briars’ eyes grew wide as he realized what he’d given away. “Ah, well, no use denying it. You know where the Slayer, name of Buffy, is, or what happened to her.”
“I have no idea where she is,” Briars replied defiantly.
“That’s funny, cause you know, I’ve never been much for torture. Angel’s gig, not mine. But all of a sudden, I feel a new passion for learning coming on.”
Spike’s face flickered and in the dim light the other man wouldn't be able to see it properly, but he could surely detect a yellow gleam where the eyes should be and would know what happened. Briars blanched and he swallowed hard, but he held onto his answer stubbornly.
“I do not know where she is. No one does.”
“Who’s no one?”
“No one I know. We all knew of her disappearance, but not where to.”
“How’d she disappear? How’d they get her?” Spike’s voice was incredulous. “Tell me how the Slayer was brought down by a bunch of Watchers and don’t tell me it involved Giles and a green card. That excuse is a mite worn out, mate.”
Briars bristled when Spike called him mate, but responded wearily.
“Everyone has their weaknesses. She happens to have one connected with the Council.”
“Of course she’s got bloody weaknesses. Believe me, I’m the one who gets to see them. Tell me how you know about them, Council-man.”
Briars shut his mouth.
“I refuse to speak with you any longer.”
Spike smiled lazily and casually draped his arm across Briars’ shoulders, bringing his demonic face up close to his.
“Well, that’s too bad now. If you knew me, you’d know I just love to talk and I get really violent when people try to stifle that.”
Briars sighed and seemed to undergo a violent inner struggle before replying.
“There’s a test all Slayers undergo at the age of eighteen to ensure their capability as the Slayer-”
Spike snapped his fingers.
“Right, told me all about that, she did. So, you used this strength-reducing magic potion on her.”
“Yes, we provided that information. It was given to her indiscriminately through public service and when she went to meet her opponent, she had no strength to resist.”
“So the Immortal is behind this.” Spike grimaced. “I bleeding knew it. That sodding wanker.”
“I never said that,” Briars said sharply.
“Who snatched her then? Or them both?”
“I am not privy to that information. All I know is that she is being held in a secure location and we are to dispose of you and any others helping you.”
“That’s going well,” Spike said absently.
He was thinking. One of the benefits of being as honest and truthful as he sometimes forced himself to be was that he was hard to lie to. When you hold to the truth and only the truth, painful though it is, you recognize it in others and can clearly see their motivations.
People had often attributed Spike’s incredible perception to supernatural means. They would say it was a special vampire trick or a spell. But it was simply his decision to never lie to himself or others that lent him the ability to pierce through the confusing fog of people’s intentions and get to the root of their feelings. That's not to say he never lied or repressed, but he’d rather face something head on, unflinchingly, then to blunder around in self-inflicted justifications. He needed to know the truth, to know how people really felt. Feelings and truth were his strengths, that and a wicked sense of humor, vampire constitution and incredible good looks, of course.
So Briars wasn’t lying. That meant Buffy truly needed to be rescued and as soon as it was dark, they needed to get the caves to find out where she was being held from the other Watchers, kick their asses and maybe get out of this incredibly hot country with all the sun.
“You’ve been a big help, really and I feel very close to you now,” he told Briars, who blanched. Spike moved to the tiny refrigeration unit and pulled out some blood. Briars watched Spike with incredible distaste as he gulped down the thick liquid. Spike smiled at Briars with blood-stained lips.
“Want some? Or how about donating a little to the cause?”
“Never!” Briars spat out.
“Relax, mate. Your blood’s probably not very tasty anyhow. You’re safe for now. Better get some shut-eye before dark though, you’ve had a rough night.”
Briars shuddered as Spike grinned and drank the rest of the blood.
***
As soon as the sun went down the foursome were once again on their way to the caves, this time dragging Briars along with them. The moon shone brightly, lighting up the sand as if it were day, casting shadows from the scrub bushes and natural rock piles scattered around.
Of all people it was Andrew who noticed the moon light gleaming off the shotgun barrels and he tackled Spike, sending him to the ground as it went off and forcing Spike to release his hold on Briars who scrambled to rejoin his companions. Spike swore under his breath and pulled Andrew behind an outcropping of rock. The hit to the ground had banged his chest, digging deep into the arrow wound from the night before. It took Spike a moment to get his bearings and when he found them, he saw Faith and Xander had joined them under shelter.
“Getting real sick of this ambush thing, boss,” Faith said.
“Really? Well, just pop on out and tell the nice Watchers that.” Spike gestured to the fanatic, well-aiming Watchers. “I’m sure they’ll stop in a jiffy if you just say so.”
“Got any ideas besides smart comments, Dead Boy?” Xander asked him.
“Let’s end it.”
So saying, Spike leapt from his hiding position, soared through the air and landed in the middle of the Watchers. They grabbed at him, each anxious to be the one to end him, their zeal stealing from them the rational thoughts that would’ve told them to just blow his head off and be done with it.
Xander pulled out a pair of guns from his pockets and handed one to Andrew.
“Don’t worry about hitting Spike,” Xander told the wide-eyed Andrew. “Just get as many Watchers out of the game as possible.”
Andrew nodded, his eyes set and determined in his task. He probably would’ve made a grand speech too, only there wasn’t time.
The three launched themselves into the fight, guns blazing. They won the day, as the Watchers had recovered some of their senses and were starting to employ their guns. There were about twenty of them and probably as many as ten were dispatched by the gun skills of Xander and Andrew. Of course Spike was doing just fine and with Faith at his side, soon every Watcher was dead or unconscious.
“Barely worth it.” Spike straightened up, grinning and examining about five bullet holes scattered over his person. “But good exercise.”
Xander rolled his eyes and collected guns from the fallen.
“What should we do with them?”
“Leave the dead, take the wounded to the village. Blondie and I will go back to the caves,” Faith instructed, holding her right arm tightly, staunching the blood from her own bullet wounds. Xander nodded and he and Andrew went to work.
Spike and Faith walked to the caves and almost immediately spotted an identical paper to the two they already had. Spike picked it up from under a rock and they read:
‘Second Hell; you’ve never been,
But the dark one there atones her sin.’
“Bloody interesting that,” Spike commented. “But I’m stumped now. What’s it mean?”
“We’re going home,” Faith replied. “To Cleveland.”
“I get it now.” Spike smiled, proud of himself. “Writer’s almost as bad as I am. I’d bet you anything Cecily’d never take him over me.”
“You write? Who’s Cecily? Spill the details of that dirty secret, boss,” Faith prodded, catching the hints of a story Spike had unwittingly thrown her.
“Not while you’re breathing,” he answered and they headed back to help the other two, Faith bugging him the whole time to reveal his closet writing habits.
***
Xander and Spike made a clandestine visit to the village healing rooms and did a little interrogating. All the Watchers said the same as Briars. Spike sighed in frustration on the way back to Xander’s hut.
“Either we killed the ones with the know-how or they’re the best bloody liars I’ve ever seen.”
“Take it easy, you’ve got where to head to next,” Xander comforted Spike and nearly fell over backwards at the thought of it.
“Another place, another fight, no Buffy. This little chase-the-badly-written-clues game is getting real old.”
Xander nodded, thinking of who they were looking for.
“It’s the Buffster, though. I wish I could go with you guys to help, bad company notwithstanding.”
“Keep it up, whelp,” Spike said, smacking Xander upside the head in the same way he had in the hospital in Sunnydale during the Glory episode. This time, however, only Xander held his head in pain. But it was mock pain more than anything else; Spike’s hand was gentler than his earlier self.
“If we didn’t need you right now, I gag at the thought, I’d go back to staking you,” Xander told him.
“Yeah, you always did that so well,” Spike replied, grinning. “I almost miss it.” Spike turned suddenly serious and hesitated before speaking again. “Speaking of old staking attempts, I’m sorry about Anya.” Xander looked uncomfortable. “We weren’t trying to hurt you. We both were hurting and took comfort in the other, that’s all. She was a bloody great woman, spoke what others thought, like me, and I’m sorry for your loss. For all our loss.”
Spike looked about as disturbed as Xander felt, but they both walked in silence for awhile, digesting Spike’s words.
“Forget it,” Xander finally replied. “Thank you.” Then with more zest, “But what happened to the no digging up the past?”
“Oh right. Sorry. Won’t do it again.”
“This one’s for the diary, Spike apologized twice in as many minutes. Gotta remember that,” Xander teased.
“The strong, rakish, manly man keeps a diary?” Spike inquired, a dry edge to his voice.
Xander winced.
***
They updated Giles on what had happened and he promised to send them the antidote for the strength-reducer Buffy had been sedated with. Hanging up the phone, Spike turned to Xander and stuck out his hand.
“We’ll see you later, mate. Gotta keep hunting.”
“Let me know what’s going on,” Xander said, shaking Spike’s pro offered hand.
“Sure thing.” Spike put on his duster and waited by the door.
Faith slapped Xander’s hand and offered an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. Xander nodded, both of them understanding that the past was now the past. Andrew grabbed Xander in a bone-crunching hug and promised to write him long letters giving intimate details of The Great Buffy Search executed by the First Slayer Rescue Brigade. And then they were gone, headed to Cleveland, where, Faith reflected, at least she’d have her own bed.