The Draco and the Scoobies chapter 17
Title: The Draco and the Scoobies chapter 17: Rude awakening
Pairing: Buffy/Spike; Zamolxis/Bendis; Xander/Anya; Willow/Tara; and so on... ;)
Rating: Adult
Summary: Something insidious is brewing in the Universe. And that something is boredom. Gods, supernatural beings and mortals will find themselves forever changed by the consequences of one bored Being.
Here: The aftermath of Glory's demise
Spoilers/Warnings: BtVS:S5; Adult language; Sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, really! So please don't sue. Joss, Fox, Mutant enemy and all the others are the ones!
Beta: dusty273
AN: I know it's been quite some time since I updated this and I'd like to thank any and all who have stood by me and are still inteerested in where this is going. Beta by Mari, with many thanks to Sotia. Also, take a moment and think about Nikki.
Buffy walked out of the building on shaky legs. She had human blood on her hands. A tainted human, an apparent low-life from the supernatural point of view, but human nonetheless. She refused to meet Spike's eyes, fully aware that he was watching her like a hawk. She felt dirty, especially remembering Faith, but she knew she had done the right thing. The fact that she knew that was even more surprising. How come, in just a few days, her world view had changed so drastically that she now considered killing a human the right thing to do? There was so much she had to get accustomed to. What she needed now was a long bath and some of her mom's hot chocolate.
Spike was walking slightly behind the Slayer, smoking a cigarette with slow, calculated breaths and trying to discern what he could do to relieve her of her burdens. His unbeating heart ached when he saw her slumped shoulders, but at the same time he knew she had to go through the choice to kill Ben, so that she could finally understand that the line between good and evil was not drawn according to one's humanity. And even one's humanity didn't depend on him being human or not. Clem was more human than many of the pulsers he'd met throughout his unlife. Still, her distress hurt him on a physical level and his mind was racing trying to find some way to help her. He was pulled out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder.
“You can't help her yet. Let her sleep on it and maybe the conclusions will sink in.” Bendis stopped talking for a moment and looked sadly at the Chosen One. “Or she might decide to go into denial again. Whatever happens, pushing her anymore tonight would only lead to a rift between the two of you.”
“She wasn't supposed to be a killer. I should 'ave done it, not her, she doesn't deserve this.” Spike felt like tearing the head off something, anything to diminish his torment over the sadness he could see in Buffy's defeated demeanor.
“It's part of her destiny; a part that was hidden because of failing traditions. Just give her some time to adjust.” As an afterthought, Bendis placed her hand on Spike's shoulder again, in a comforting gesture. “Be there for her, if she needs you.”
“I'll be there, if she wants me or not.”
***~~~***
Giles walked stiffly towards the door of the Summers’ residence, flanked by Joyce and Dawn. He didn't really react to anything around him, as his mind was lost in a fog of memories and possible scenarios.
“Mom, when is Giles gonna stop being broken? I mean, it was fun the first few minutes, but now it's getting silly.” Dawn emphasized the state of the man beside her by waving her hand in front of the distraught Brit's face.
“Dawn! That's not polite.” Despite the stern tone, Joyce's lips were close to turning upwards in a silly grin. The man traveling beside her was almost sweet in his ability to focus on just one thing, like a child thinking about candy. “We'll take Rupert to the couch and then go to bed. I really don't trust his ability to get home right now.” She leaned against the outer wall of the house as she fumbled with the keys and opened the door.
“Well, he insisted on taking us home. It's not our fault that he went to la-la land on the way over.”
Together, the two women led Giles to the couch, where he collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Joyce sat down beside him and touched his left cheek with her hand. She leaned in and whispered close to the man's ear. “Rupert.” Getting no response, she raised her voice. “Giles! Giles, can you hear me? Dawn, time to go to bed.”
“But moooom!”
“Don't but mom me. Off to bed with you, young lady. It's nearly morning and you have school tomorrow.”
“Can't you give me a note or something? Please mom?” Dawn added puppy dog eyes to her pleading tone, going all out in her attempt to get time off from school.
Wavering, Joyce looked at the clock again. It showed half past two in the morning, meaning her daughter would have little more than four hours of sleep before a difficult day. All of that, coupled with the huge revelations-especially the news of her illness-during the last few days, finally convinced her to be more lenient. “Fine, but that's the last note for the rest of the school year! Now off to bed with you.”
Squealing, Dawn ran to her mother and hugged her tight, then bounded up the stairs to sleep, presumably. Joyce watched her go with a smile. Her daughter was growing up so fast it almost scared her, especially considering her Key origins. Silently thanking the godly couple for allowing her more time with her daughters, Joyce focused again on the man seated beside her, still staring off into nothing. The things she had seen in his future had enraged her at first, but she now hoped he would be... what? What exactly did she want from that man? She didn't know for certain, but if the previous days were anything to go by, he could just be a vast improvement of Hank, both for herself and for her daughters.
After some more gentle prodding, Giles finally managed to acknowledge Joyce's presence, still seemingly through a fog. “Have we arrived yet?” Letting out a relieved laugh, Joyce kissed him deeply, hoping to get him back to normal through passion.
Just as things started to heat up between the two, Buffy opened the front door. Jumping up from the couch like a teen caught doing something naughty, Joyce rushed to the side of her eldest daughter. As soon as she saw her, the mighty Slayer burst into tears and buried her face in her mother's shoulder. Holding her daughter tight, Joyce motioned for Spike to go to the kitchen. Zamolxis and Bendis waved at the Slayer's mother and then walked down the street, leaving the vampire to explain the events of the evening. Giles followed Spike to the kitchen and demanded to be brought up to speed. Meanwhile, Joyce brought Buffy slowly up the stairs and into her room, constantly whispering soothing words.
That night, nobody slept well in the House on Revello Drive.
~~~***~~~
The next day, Dawn woke up at noon to a full house. Buffy was still in her room, apparently still sleeping off the night's events, Giles and Joyce were in the kitchen, discussing Ben's demise and Spike was sleeping the day off in the basement, at Giles' insistence.
“So what happened?” Dawn asked, eager to find out as much as possible. She watched as her mother and Giles seemed to question each other on whether they should tell her. “Fine, treat me like a kid again.” She banged the door of the refrigerator after getting some OJ to go with the pancakes Joyce had prepared for her.
“Glorificus is dead.” The simple statement made by Giles stopped Dawn in her tracks. The youngest Summers turned hopeful eyes towards the Watcher.
“So it's over?” The question was posed in such a high tone that Giles couldn't help cringing. Dawn threw herself at the Brit, looping her arms around his neck and jumping up and down. The bemused man looked at Joyce for help.
“Yes, Dawnie, the threat to you is over.” Dawn let Giles go and hugged her mother, still bouncing, relieved that the danger was over.
During the commotion, the door to the basement opened and Spike blearily looked at the scene in front of him. “What the bloody hell is going on up here? Can't a poor bloke get some kip ‘round here?” Before he knew what was happening, a squealing, giggling, and at the same time crying Dawn had launched herself towards him and he had to use all his strength not to be propelled backwards, down the stairs.
When Dawn finally calmed down enough, Spike had to tell her the story of Ben's death, leaning against the basement door and fiddling with a cigarette. He left out the state of Riley's body. While he was talking, he felt Buffy approach, but when she just lingered outside the door, he continued his tale. When he finished, Dawn was a bit more subdued, while Giles and Joyce were troubled by what the future would bring.
Finally, Buffy came into the kitchen, looking sad and aloof. Regardless, Dawn enveloped the Slayer in her arms, thanking her sister over and over for saving her from the crazy woman and her stupid host-guy-person. If there was anything in the world that could bring a smile to the Slayer's face, it was Dawn's display of unbridled happiness. Pretty soon, both Summers girls were holding on tight to each other and speaking in high-pitched voices. With a wistful smile on, Spike retreated to the shadows of the basement, content that his girl was going to be all right.
Giles moved behind Joyce and placed his arms around her hips, letting her lean into him as they watched the two sisters celebrate the end of another ordeal. The Watcher still had a lot of worries about his charge, but with the help of her family, friends, and-by the looks of it-the Powers and Wolfram and Hart as well, he hoped she would be the longest lived of all her predecessors.
After the enthusiasm wore off enough for Dawn to stop bouncing, the talks and explanations continued until the four people took their seats at the table and had lunch.
~~~***~~~
Bendis was lying naked on top of an equally bare Zamolxis in the bedroom of the mansion he had prepared for them. “So, what is the next step, my love?” Making circles on his chest with her fingers, she started nibbling on his ear. “We've already let them off the hook for what was supposed to happen until autumn. What are we going to do now?”
Rolling them over so he was the one on top, Zamolxis started licking intricate patterns on her breasts. “Well, they'll need to get Xander's operation going and the coven is a priority, too.” With a playful bite to her nipple, he continued, “But those can go ahead without our supervision.” Sliding lower, he started working his magic on her stomach. “Spike and Buffy, they need time to get used to each other as partners, as possible lovers and then, when they're both ready, it will happen.”
“Dawn doesn't need us teaching her what she is, she can figure that out herself.” Bendis arched her body, letting out a gasp when his tongue moved lower. “So what is there for us to do here?”
Raising his head from between her thighs, Zamolxis grinned. “We could go talk to Giles.”
She pushed his head back down and held him there. “Not just yet.”
~~~***~~~
Slowly walking down the stairs to the basement, Buffy let her eyes adjust to the dim light. There, on a cot her mom had stashed since they'd moved in, Spike was sprawled shirtless and barefoot. She took a moment to admire the perfection of his muscles and the innocence of his face without a smirk or a sneer. With a soft sigh to herself, she walked down the last few steps and stopped beside the sleeping vampire.
Without opening his eyes, Spike broke the silence, his voice groggy. “Anythin' I can do for you, Slayer?” At her lack of answer, his eyelids slid open, locking sight on her.
Faltering briefly, Buffy recovered her cool. “Dawn wants to thank you for your part in Glory's defeat.” She wavered for a second before adding, “So does my mom.”
Spike put a hand behind his head in order to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Is that so? Is it just your mum and sis, or is there someone else that wants to say somethin'?”
Thankful that the darkness would hide her blush, Buffy tried her best to sound distant. “I wanna thank you too for... being there. I...” Her voice was soft, as she turned to go up the stairs. So soft in fact, that had Spike not been a vampire, he probably would have missed what she said. “Give me some time to get over this and maybe we could... I dunno, do something together.” Sprinting up the last few steps, she didn't allow Spike any time to answer her proposition.
Spike's face split into a huge grin as he turned on his side. “I can wait a bit longer, don't worry.”
~~~***~~~
Giles walked in through his apartment door, feeling like someone had beaten him systematically with a bat. Good God, I was thinking about a blasted baseball bat instead of a cricket bat. I've been spending too much time apart from real values. Maybe I should invite Spike over to watch a game of footsie. Shaking his head at where his thoughts had led him, the Watcher sat down on the couch and took off his jacket. Maybe the bloody heat is finally getting to me.
Just as he was debating on having dinner or doing some research to ensure there was no way Glory could come back, there was a knock on the door. As he trudged to the entrance, he muttered a short curse under his breath about people interrupting his few moments of peace. Opening the door, he was only mildly surprised to see Zamolxis and Bendis standing there with benevolent smiles on their faces.
Motioning with his right hand for them to come in, Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose with the left one. “Anything wrong?”
Revealing a bottle of expensive scotch from behind him, Zamolxis placed it on the table in front of the couch. “Not at all, just thought you needed some answers and some fuel.” He emphasized his words by tilting his head towards the bottle. Smirking, the Watcher went to the kitchen to retrieve glasses, while Bendis made herself comfortable next to her partner. Zamolxis looked at her fondly and called out, “Don't forget to bring three glasses. Bendis here can drink us both under the table, if she really wants to.” She playfully swatted at his arm, but didn't disagree.
After they were all settled around the coffee table, Giles opened the bottle of liquid, taking a moment to appreciate its fragrance and color, then poured equal amounts in the three glasses. “What shall we drink to?”
Without even pausing to think, Zamolxis raised his glass. “To Glory, may she rot in the bowels of the Universe.” They all clinked their tumblers together and drank. After licking his lips in obvious appreciation of the amber liquid they were sharing, the erstwhile expat representative lay back on the couch. “So, what questions do you have? Because I could bet you have many. No self-respecting Watcher would miss an opportunity for information.” He met Bendis' eyes when she gave him a disapproving look. It's not my fault he's a bit too conservative and chooses to ignore perfectly good sources of information.
Giving his two companions a pensive look, Giles decided to play along. “Why did you give Joyce all the knowledge of the possible future? Why not someone else?”
Chuckling, Bendis relaxed, stretching her legs and enjoying the sound of leather upon leather that her Aeryn getup made. “You really like her, don't you?”
Giles seemed to sit up straighter and puff himself up, in typical male posturing. “What of it?”
With a full, hardy laugh, Bendis placed her whiskey on the table. “There's nothing wrong with that. On the contrary, we're very pleased you realized your potential. As for the images-” Trailing her finger along the brim of the glass, she continued speaking without looking at him, “She has become a sort of an Oracle. She knows things beforehand and she is able to guide those that ask the right questions on the correct path.” Dipping her finger in the liquid and then sucking the moisture off, she appeared to be completely ignorant of the wolfish hunger clearly visible on Zamolxis' face. “She will have to help her daughter by acting as a liaison between us and her.”
Getting a bit impatient with the detour in the discussion, Giles put down his own glass roughly. “But why her? She has enough on her plate.”
Bendis looked sadly up at the Watcher, focusing all her attention on him, demanding without words he do the same. “She was the perfect choice.” Tilting her head a bit, she became inquisitive herself. “Aren't you happy we replaced the tumor with knowledge?”
Squirming a bit, like a boy in front of a teacher, Giles fumbled with his next drink. “Yes, well, thank you. Perhaps, though, the burden of that responsibility could have been given to someone more, shall we say, accustomed to it.”
Pinning him in place with his strange white-less eyes, Zamolxis seemed to be weighing the Watcher. Finding whatever conclusion it was he was searching for, he then leaned back on the couch, leaving his half-empty glass on the table. “Someone like you, perhaps? Someone that had all the answers at his fingertips and yet chose to ignore the glaringly obvious facts and instead fed the same old rhetoric to his Slayer, nearly getting her killed on numerous occasions because of his shortcomings? Indeed, why didn't we choose you? I wonder.”
Gulping down another mouthful of strength-giving liquor, Giles spoke, his voice steely. “I did what I thought was best.”
With sarcasm almost dripping from each word, Zamolxis closed his eyes, seemingly in exasperation. “And if we hadn't intervened, she would have been dead within a few months, after losing her mother and almost any semblance of humanity she still had left.” The bearded elder opened his eyes-now blazing with a furious fire within, that made them seem almost golden-his stare making the Watcher sit back in his chair. “Then the really bad things would have happened, and you, my high and mighty Watcher, would have been unwilling to see the way things would have gone. Your pattern of thinking would have proven her ultimate downfall.” His eyelids hooded, head lowering, Zamolxis grabbed for his own glass and stared deeply inside it. “You would have had the most resources to use the information we gave Joyce, but she has the willingness to actually sift through it without prejudice, searching only for the truth.”
Silence reigned over the three people sitting in the living-room, as each sipped on their drinks and contemplated on the winding tricks of the human psyche. Finally, after downing his entire portion and starting on the second one, Giles managed to work up the courage to look his companions in the eye in turn. He found no recrimination there, just a strange curiosity; something that he felt compelled to answer, somehow.
Trying to figure things out for himself, he let his thoughts flow freely. “Even if things would have gone like that, I cannot be held responsible for future actions that will not come to pass.” Taking off his glasses in order to polish the almost invisible specks of dust that had gathered since the last ritual cleaning, he continued his musings, “So, if every one of the group seems to have received some sort of new purpose with your arrival here-everyone except me that is-then it is safe to say that either you desire my removal or there is something you have yet to share.” Putting his glasses back on, he met Zamolxis' now-normal-or as close to that as they could be-eyes.
Smugly looking at his beloved, the declared Wolfram representative let out a guffaw. “Ha-ha, I told you the old Ripper would catch on to our little game.” Turning to the stony-faced Watcher, he patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. “You, my esteemed Rupert Stewart Giles, are charged with a very important matter. Since the dawn of the Slayers, the Watcher's Council has been responsible for aiding them, training them, and keeping the legacy alive. In the past few centuries or so, that goal has been so much further and further to the actual activities of the Council, that a change is sorely needed.”
“You want me to talk Travers into changing the way they view Slayers?”
“Travers and all those like him are expendable. We want you to replace them,” Bendis chimed in.
Looking aghast, Giles leaned forward with his entire body. “You surely don't mean...”
“What she means, is that you will become the new leader of the Watchers, with the ability to retire any and all of the mindless drones that are unable to comprehend the true role of the Council as helpers of the Slayer, not owners of her destiny,” Zamolxis' tone was final, like that of a judge at sentencing.
Slumping back into his seat, Giles saw no other way to answer such a proposition except, “Bloody hell!”
Pairing: Buffy/Spike; Zamolxis/Bendis; Xander/Anya; Willow/Tara; and so on... ;)
Rating: Adult
Summary: Something insidious is brewing in the Universe. And that something is boredom. Gods, supernatural beings and mortals will find themselves forever changed by the consequences of one bored Being.
Here: The aftermath of Glory's demise
Spoilers/Warnings: BtVS:S5; Adult language; Sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, really! So please don't sue. Joss, Fox, Mutant enemy and all the others are the ones!
Beta: dusty273
AN: I know it's been quite some time since I updated this and I'd like to thank any and all who have stood by me and are still inteerested in where this is going. Beta by Mari, with many thanks to Sotia. Also, take a moment and think about Nikki.
Buffy walked out of the building on shaky legs. She had human blood on her hands. A tainted human, an apparent low-life from the supernatural point of view, but human nonetheless. She refused to meet Spike's eyes, fully aware that he was watching her like a hawk. She felt dirty, especially remembering Faith, but she knew she had done the right thing. The fact that she knew that was even more surprising. How come, in just a few days, her world view had changed so drastically that she now considered killing a human the right thing to do? There was so much she had to get accustomed to. What she needed now was a long bath and some of her mom's hot chocolate.
Spike was walking slightly behind the Slayer, smoking a cigarette with slow, calculated breaths and trying to discern what he could do to relieve her of her burdens. His unbeating heart ached when he saw her slumped shoulders, but at the same time he knew she had to go through the choice to kill Ben, so that she could finally understand that the line between good and evil was not drawn according to one's humanity. And even one's humanity didn't depend on him being human or not. Clem was more human than many of the pulsers he'd met throughout his unlife. Still, her distress hurt him on a physical level and his mind was racing trying to find some way to help her. He was pulled out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder.
“You can't help her yet. Let her sleep on it and maybe the conclusions will sink in.” Bendis stopped talking for a moment and looked sadly at the Chosen One. “Or she might decide to go into denial again. Whatever happens, pushing her anymore tonight would only lead to a rift between the two of you.”
“She wasn't supposed to be a killer. I should 'ave done it, not her, she doesn't deserve this.” Spike felt like tearing the head off something, anything to diminish his torment over the sadness he could see in Buffy's defeated demeanor.
“It's part of her destiny; a part that was hidden because of failing traditions. Just give her some time to adjust.” As an afterthought, Bendis placed her hand on Spike's shoulder again, in a comforting gesture. “Be there for her, if she needs you.”
“I'll be there, if she wants me or not.”
***~~~***
Giles walked stiffly towards the door of the Summers’ residence, flanked by Joyce and Dawn. He didn't really react to anything around him, as his mind was lost in a fog of memories and possible scenarios.
“Mom, when is Giles gonna stop being broken? I mean, it was fun the first few minutes, but now it's getting silly.” Dawn emphasized the state of the man beside her by waving her hand in front of the distraught Brit's face.
“Dawn! That's not polite.” Despite the stern tone, Joyce's lips were close to turning upwards in a silly grin. The man traveling beside her was almost sweet in his ability to focus on just one thing, like a child thinking about candy. “We'll take Rupert to the couch and then go to bed. I really don't trust his ability to get home right now.” She leaned against the outer wall of the house as she fumbled with the keys and opened the door.
“Well, he insisted on taking us home. It's not our fault that he went to la-la land on the way over.”
Together, the two women led Giles to the couch, where he collapsed like a sack of potatoes. Joyce sat down beside him and touched his left cheek with her hand. She leaned in and whispered close to the man's ear. “Rupert.” Getting no response, she raised her voice. “Giles! Giles, can you hear me? Dawn, time to go to bed.”
“But moooom!”
“Don't but mom me. Off to bed with you, young lady. It's nearly morning and you have school tomorrow.”
“Can't you give me a note or something? Please mom?” Dawn added puppy dog eyes to her pleading tone, going all out in her attempt to get time off from school.
Wavering, Joyce looked at the clock again. It showed half past two in the morning, meaning her daughter would have little more than four hours of sleep before a difficult day. All of that, coupled with the huge revelations-especially the news of her illness-during the last few days, finally convinced her to be more lenient. “Fine, but that's the last note for the rest of the school year! Now off to bed with you.”
Squealing, Dawn ran to her mother and hugged her tight, then bounded up the stairs to sleep, presumably. Joyce watched her go with a smile. Her daughter was growing up so fast it almost scared her, especially considering her Key origins. Silently thanking the godly couple for allowing her more time with her daughters, Joyce focused again on the man seated beside her, still staring off into nothing. The things she had seen in his future had enraged her at first, but she now hoped he would be... what? What exactly did she want from that man? She didn't know for certain, but if the previous days were anything to go by, he could just be a vast improvement of Hank, both for herself and for her daughters.
After some more gentle prodding, Giles finally managed to acknowledge Joyce's presence, still seemingly through a fog. “Have we arrived yet?” Letting out a relieved laugh, Joyce kissed him deeply, hoping to get him back to normal through passion.
Just as things started to heat up between the two, Buffy opened the front door. Jumping up from the couch like a teen caught doing something naughty, Joyce rushed to the side of her eldest daughter. As soon as she saw her, the mighty Slayer burst into tears and buried her face in her mother's shoulder. Holding her daughter tight, Joyce motioned for Spike to go to the kitchen. Zamolxis and Bendis waved at the Slayer's mother and then walked down the street, leaving the vampire to explain the events of the evening. Giles followed Spike to the kitchen and demanded to be brought up to speed. Meanwhile, Joyce brought Buffy slowly up the stairs and into her room, constantly whispering soothing words.
That night, nobody slept well in the House on Revello Drive.
~~~***~~~
The next day, Dawn woke up at noon to a full house. Buffy was still in her room, apparently still sleeping off the night's events, Giles and Joyce were in the kitchen, discussing Ben's demise and Spike was sleeping the day off in the basement, at Giles' insistence.
“So what happened?” Dawn asked, eager to find out as much as possible. She watched as her mother and Giles seemed to question each other on whether they should tell her. “Fine, treat me like a kid again.” She banged the door of the refrigerator after getting some OJ to go with the pancakes Joyce had prepared for her.
“Glorificus is dead.” The simple statement made by Giles stopped Dawn in her tracks. The youngest Summers turned hopeful eyes towards the Watcher.
“So it's over?” The question was posed in such a high tone that Giles couldn't help cringing. Dawn threw herself at the Brit, looping her arms around his neck and jumping up and down. The bemused man looked at Joyce for help.
“Yes, Dawnie, the threat to you is over.” Dawn let Giles go and hugged her mother, still bouncing, relieved that the danger was over.
During the commotion, the door to the basement opened and Spike blearily looked at the scene in front of him. “What the bloody hell is going on up here? Can't a poor bloke get some kip ‘round here?” Before he knew what was happening, a squealing, giggling, and at the same time crying Dawn had launched herself towards him and he had to use all his strength not to be propelled backwards, down the stairs.
When Dawn finally calmed down enough, Spike had to tell her the story of Ben's death, leaning against the basement door and fiddling with a cigarette. He left out the state of Riley's body. While he was talking, he felt Buffy approach, but when she just lingered outside the door, he continued his tale. When he finished, Dawn was a bit more subdued, while Giles and Joyce were troubled by what the future would bring.
Finally, Buffy came into the kitchen, looking sad and aloof. Regardless, Dawn enveloped the Slayer in her arms, thanking her sister over and over for saving her from the crazy woman and her stupid host-guy-person. If there was anything in the world that could bring a smile to the Slayer's face, it was Dawn's display of unbridled happiness. Pretty soon, both Summers girls were holding on tight to each other and speaking in high-pitched voices. With a wistful smile on, Spike retreated to the shadows of the basement, content that his girl was going to be all right.
Giles moved behind Joyce and placed his arms around her hips, letting her lean into him as they watched the two sisters celebrate the end of another ordeal. The Watcher still had a lot of worries about his charge, but with the help of her family, friends, and-by the looks of it-the Powers and Wolfram and Hart as well, he hoped she would be the longest lived of all her predecessors.
After the enthusiasm wore off enough for Dawn to stop bouncing, the talks and explanations continued until the four people took their seats at the table and had lunch.
~~~***~~~
Bendis was lying naked on top of an equally bare Zamolxis in the bedroom of the mansion he had prepared for them. “So, what is the next step, my love?” Making circles on his chest with her fingers, she started nibbling on his ear. “We've already let them off the hook for what was supposed to happen until autumn. What are we going to do now?”
Rolling them over so he was the one on top, Zamolxis started licking intricate patterns on her breasts. “Well, they'll need to get Xander's operation going and the coven is a priority, too.” With a playful bite to her nipple, he continued, “But those can go ahead without our supervision.” Sliding lower, he started working his magic on her stomach. “Spike and Buffy, they need time to get used to each other as partners, as possible lovers and then, when they're both ready, it will happen.”
“Dawn doesn't need us teaching her what she is, she can figure that out herself.” Bendis arched her body, letting out a gasp when his tongue moved lower. “So what is there for us to do here?”
Raising his head from between her thighs, Zamolxis grinned. “We could go talk to Giles.”
She pushed his head back down and held him there. “Not just yet.”
~~~***~~~
Slowly walking down the stairs to the basement, Buffy let her eyes adjust to the dim light. There, on a cot her mom had stashed since they'd moved in, Spike was sprawled shirtless and barefoot. She took a moment to admire the perfection of his muscles and the innocence of his face without a smirk or a sneer. With a soft sigh to herself, she walked down the last few steps and stopped beside the sleeping vampire.
Without opening his eyes, Spike broke the silence, his voice groggy. “Anythin' I can do for you, Slayer?” At her lack of answer, his eyelids slid open, locking sight on her.
Faltering briefly, Buffy recovered her cool. “Dawn wants to thank you for your part in Glory's defeat.” She wavered for a second before adding, “So does my mom.”
Spike put a hand behind his head in order to prop himself up, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “Is that so? Is it just your mum and sis, or is there someone else that wants to say somethin'?”
Thankful that the darkness would hide her blush, Buffy tried her best to sound distant. “I wanna thank you too for... being there. I...” Her voice was soft, as she turned to go up the stairs. So soft in fact, that had Spike not been a vampire, he probably would have missed what she said. “Give me some time to get over this and maybe we could... I dunno, do something together.” Sprinting up the last few steps, she didn't allow Spike any time to answer her proposition.
Spike's face split into a huge grin as he turned on his side. “I can wait a bit longer, don't worry.”
~~~***~~~
Giles walked in through his apartment door, feeling like someone had beaten him systematically with a bat. Good God, I was thinking about a blasted baseball bat instead of a cricket bat. I've been spending too much time apart from real values. Maybe I should invite Spike over to watch a game of footsie. Shaking his head at where his thoughts had led him, the Watcher sat down on the couch and took off his jacket. Maybe the bloody heat is finally getting to me.
Just as he was debating on having dinner or doing some research to ensure there was no way Glory could come back, there was a knock on the door. As he trudged to the entrance, he muttered a short curse under his breath about people interrupting his few moments of peace. Opening the door, he was only mildly surprised to see Zamolxis and Bendis standing there with benevolent smiles on their faces.
Motioning with his right hand for them to come in, Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose with the left one. “Anything wrong?”
Revealing a bottle of expensive scotch from behind him, Zamolxis placed it on the table in front of the couch. “Not at all, just thought you needed some answers and some fuel.” He emphasized his words by tilting his head towards the bottle. Smirking, the Watcher went to the kitchen to retrieve glasses, while Bendis made herself comfortable next to her partner. Zamolxis looked at her fondly and called out, “Don't forget to bring three glasses. Bendis here can drink us both under the table, if she really wants to.” She playfully swatted at his arm, but didn't disagree.
After they were all settled around the coffee table, Giles opened the bottle of liquid, taking a moment to appreciate its fragrance and color, then poured equal amounts in the three glasses. “What shall we drink to?”
Without even pausing to think, Zamolxis raised his glass. “To Glory, may she rot in the bowels of the Universe.” They all clinked their tumblers together and drank. After licking his lips in obvious appreciation of the amber liquid they were sharing, the erstwhile expat representative lay back on the couch. “So, what questions do you have? Because I could bet you have many. No self-respecting Watcher would miss an opportunity for information.” He met Bendis' eyes when she gave him a disapproving look. It's not my fault he's a bit too conservative and chooses to ignore perfectly good sources of information.
Giving his two companions a pensive look, Giles decided to play along. “Why did you give Joyce all the knowledge of the possible future? Why not someone else?”
Chuckling, Bendis relaxed, stretching her legs and enjoying the sound of leather upon leather that her Aeryn getup made. “You really like her, don't you?”
Giles seemed to sit up straighter and puff himself up, in typical male posturing. “What of it?”
With a full, hardy laugh, Bendis placed her whiskey on the table. “There's nothing wrong with that. On the contrary, we're very pleased you realized your potential. As for the images-” Trailing her finger along the brim of the glass, she continued speaking without looking at him, “She has become a sort of an Oracle. She knows things beforehand and she is able to guide those that ask the right questions on the correct path.” Dipping her finger in the liquid and then sucking the moisture off, she appeared to be completely ignorant of the wolfish hunger clearly visible on Zamolxis' face. “She will have to help her daughter by acting as a liaison between us and her.”
Getting a bit impatient with the detour in the discussion, Giles put down his own glass roughly. “But why her? She has enough on her plate.”
Bendis looked sadly up at the Watcher, focusing all her attention on him, demanding without words he do the same. “She was the perfect choice.” Tilting her head a bit, she became inquisitive herself. “Aren't you happy we replaced the tumor with knowledge?”
Squirming a bit, like a boy in front of a teacher, Giles fumbled with his next drink. “Yes, well, thank you. Perhaps, though, the burden of that responsibility could have been given to someone more, shall we say, accustomed to it.”
Pinning him in place with his strange white-less eyes, Zamolxis seemed to be weighing the Watcher. Finding whatever conclusion it was he was searching for, he then leaned back on the couch, leaving his half-empty glass on the table. “Someone like you, perhaps? Someone that had all the answers at his fingertips and yet chose to ignore the glaringly obvious facts and instead fed the same old rhetoric to his Slayer, nearly getting her killed on numerous occasions because of his shortcomings? Indeed, why didn't we choose you? I wonder.”
Gulping down another mouthful of strength-giving liquor, Giles spoke, his voice steely. “I did what I thought was best.”
With sarcasm almost dripping from each word, Zamolxis closed his eyes, seemingly in exasperation. “And if we hadn't intervened, she would have been dead within a few months, after losing her mother and almost any semblance of humanity she still had left.” The bearded elder opened his eyes-now blazing with a furious fire within, that made them seem almost golden-his stare making the Watcher sit back in his chair. “Then the really bad things would have happened, and you, my high and mighty Watcher, would have been unwilling to see the way things would have gone. Your pattern of thinking would have proven her ultimate downfall.” His eyelids hooded, head lowering, Zamolxis grabbed for his own glass and stared deeply inside it. “You would have had the most resources to use the information we gave Joyce, but she has the willingness to actually sift through it without prejudice, searching only for the truth.”
Silence reigned over the three people sitting in the living-room, as each sipped on their drinks and contemplated on the winding tricks of the human psyche. Finally, after downing his entire portion and starting on the second one, Giles managed to work up the courage to look his companions in the eye in turn. He found no recrimination there, just a strange curiosity; something that he felt compelled to answer, somehow.
Trying to figure things out for himself, he let his thoughts flow freely. “Even if things would have gone like that, I cannot be held responsible for future actions that will not come to pass.” Taking off his glasses in order to polish the almost invisible specks of dust that had gathered since the last ritual cleaning, he continued his musings, “So, if every one of the group seems to have received some sort of new purpose with your arrival here-everyone except me that is-then it is safe to say that either you desire my removal or there is something you have yet to share.” Putting his glasses back on, he met Zamolxis' now-normal-or as close to that as they could be-eyes.
Smugly looking at his beloved, the declared Wolfram representative let out a guffaw. “Ha-ha, I told you the old Ripper would catch on to our little game.” Turning to the stony-faced Watcher, he patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. “You, my esteemed Rupert Stewart Giles, are charged with a very important matter. Since the dawn of the Slayers, the Watcher's Council has been responsible for aiding them, training them, and keeping the legacy alive. In the past few centuries or so, that goal has been so much further and further to the actual activities of the Council, that a change is sorely needed.”
“You want me to talk Travers into changing the way they view Slayers?”
“Travers and all those like him are expendable. We want you to replace them,” Bendis chimed in.
Looking aghast, Giles leaned forward with his entire body. “You surely don't mean...”
“What she means, is that you will become the new leader of the Watchers, with the ability to retire any and all of the mindless drones that are unable to comprehend the true role of the Council as helpers of the Slayer, not owners of her destiny,” Zamolxis' tone was final, like that of a judge at sentencing.
Slumping back into his seat, Giles saw no other way to answer such a proposition except, “Bloody hell!”