Buffy: Innocent Blood Chapter 6

8/6/2019 Buffy: Innocent Blood Chapter 6

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“Xander,” Willow said, and he turned to face her.“Giles is trying to compliment you.”Xander raised his eyebrows. “And?”Willow said, “So stop being such a blockhead and let him.”Xander nodded. “Okay. Okay.” He turned back to Giles. “Okay. Praise accepted. So now

what?”Giles checked his watch. “Lunch, I think.”The door swung open. “I’ve got that covered.”Willow’s face beamed. “Oz!” she said.“Guilty as charged,” he said, smiling at her as he set a small carton on the table.Giles frowned slightly, but Xander moved to Oz and clapped him on the back. “Oz

comin’ through with the munchies. Thanks, man. I don’t care what they say about you, you’re allright in my book.”

“What book is that?” Oz asked him, but Xander couldn’t reply because he had fished anegg roll out of one of the white paper bags and was munching away.

“This is very considerate of you, Oz,” Giles said. “Can I reimburse you?”“It’s really sweet,” Willow said, taking his hand.

“Oh, no, payment isn’t necessary,” Oz said to Giles. He turned to Willow. “You,however, can give me a kiss.”

“Gladly,” Willow told him.Xander stopped in mid chew as they pecked briefly. So explain to me again why that

bothers me?“My cousin works at the Green Dragon,” Oz told them. “I can mooch a meal from him

once in a while.” He smiled. “Usually I reserve the privilege for the Dingoes, but I figured youguys could use a break.”

“Thank you,” Giles said, removing a container and opening it. “Beef broccoli,” heannounced. “Excellent choice.”

“So, Oz,” Xander spoke, taking another egg roll, “this is what, two days in a row youshowed up at the school?”

Willow shot Xander a dirty look.“I know, man. Bad habit.” Oz pulled a slip of paper out of his breast pocket. “Actually,

it’s your fault,” he said, pointing at Giles.“My fault?” Giles asked. “How so?”Oz waved the paper. “Yep. You gave me this ‘Get Into Jail Free’ card so I could come

and visit Willow.”“Oz!” she said.He looked down at her; Willow shook her head no.“You didn’t give me this so I could come and visit Willow?”Willow and Giles shook their heads no.“Whoops.”

“I issued that pass so you could assist Willow in her research on the computer.”“Ah, I see,” Oz spoke.“Yeah, the gettin’ to see Willow thing is just a little side benefit,” Xander piped up.“Xander!” Willow scolded him.“Will, there’s only one terminal here,” Xander reminded her. “How much assistance

could he give you?”Willow gave him another dirty look.“It’s not like you two can type at the same time or anything,” Xander said.

his entire document copyright [email protected]



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Willow scowled at Xander and said plaintively, “Giles!”Giles held up his hands. “I’m quite happy to spectate this one, thank you,” he said,

sticking his fork into the beef broccoli.“No, it’s okay,” Oz said. “Really. In fact, I expected it before this.”“Expected what?” Willow asked.Oz nodded at Xander. “I knew this would happen with him.”“Knew what would happen with me?” Xander challenged him.Oz stuffed the pass into his pocket and folded his arms. “Buffy withdrawal,” he said.“What?” Xander and Willow asked in unison.Oz looked at Willow but gestured to Xander. “He misses Buffy.”“I miss Buffy too,” Willow argued.Oz shook his head. “Not like he does.”“Oh,” Willow said. Understanding dawned on her. “Ohhhh.”Xander glanced back and forth between them. “Did I miss something?” he asked.“Present tense,” Oz corrected him. “You miss Buffy.”“Of course,” Xander replied. “We all do.”Oz winked at Xander. “Not like that, we don’t.”

Xander shook his head. “Oh man, that is so... I mean... you know, me and Buffy, we...”He looked at Oz. “I’m dating Cordelia!” he said.

Oz moved over to Xander and patted him on the back. “Here,” he said, holding up a smallcontainer. “Water chestnuts. They’ll help.”

“How, exactly?” Xander queried.“Eat ‘em and find out,” Oz replied, a half-smile on his face.

*

Joyce checked her watch again and turned away from the window, resuming her pacingtoward the rear of the gallery. Several pieces still remained from the recent exhibit, though mostof the larger items had sold. The show featured art deco work, and the gallery reflected thattheme. Joyce swiveled around a tall lamp with stylized human figures supporting the upturnedsmoked-glass shade. Looks like something out of the Batman films to me, she thought as sheneared the back wall. But then, art deco never was a favorite of mine. She glanced at the piecesleft. Or, judging by the sales, anyone else’s, either. She’d made her money, but the profit hadn’t been as high as she’d hoped. Maybe these pieces that Raymond has will bring in a little more.

“Listen to me,” Joyce said, stopping to get a cup of water from the Minniehaha machine.“Profit, profit, profit, and he made a point that I was someone he could trust.” She drank the cupdown and tossed it in the wastebasket. “Hopefully I can do both; keep his trust and make somemoney.”

The chime rang, and Joyce moved to the door. Although the art deco exhibit still ran, shehadn’t had any serious customers in the last few days, and she hoped that the visitor was Stark. I’d rather look ahead to his exhibit than dwell on my less than stellar success with this one. Joyce opened the door; a slight frown came over her face; a tall woman with dark hair stoodwaiting, clad in a very expensive dress suit, holding a large wooden box. “Mrs. Summers?” thewoman asked, a southern twang evident in her voice.

“Joyce,” she corrected the woman. “And you are?”“Ah’m Melanie Stahk,” she smiled. “Raymond’s niece?”




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“Oh,” Joyce smiled. “Nice to meet you. Can I help you with that?”“Ah’ve got it,” Melanie smiled. “You could hold the daw, though.”“Sure, come right in,” Joyce said, sliding the stopper on the door so that it stayed most of

the way open. Melanie entered the gallery, her heels clicking on the floor, and Joyce raised aneyebrow. They must grow them big where the Starks come from, she thought; Raymond was alarge man, and Melanie would be tall even without the three-inch heels she wore; in them, shefairly towered over Joyce.

“Is Mr. Stark coming?” Joyce asked.Melanie set the box down and turned to face Joyce. “Uncle Ray? Oh, he got a phone

cawl, is all. He’ll be in shawtly.” She smiled and approached Joyce. “Ah’m pleased to make yawacquaintance. Uncle Ray told me awl about you.” She extended a long arm.

Joyce shook her hand. “He didn’t mention you,” she replied.“Didn’t he?” Melanie asked, surprised. “Well, he’s such a busy mayen. Sometimes Ah

think he’d fugget his haid if it wasn’t sewn on.” She laughed, and Joyce chuckled with her. Likeher uncle, Melanie possessed a certain charm that Joyce found difficult to ignore.

“So, are you his business partner, or...?”Melanie put a hand to her chest. “Me? Heavens no. Ah jus’ studied a little history in

college, that’s awl. The way uncle Ray acts, yuh’d think Ah was a prafessa or somethin’.” Shesmiled. “He does so like to keep things in the family, though.”

Joyce nodded. “So I see.”Melanie laid a hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you come on out to the car and tawk to

Uncle Ray? Ah’ll get the boxes.”“Are you sure?” Joyce asked. “You don’t want any help with them?”“Not at awl,” Melanie assured her. “Y’all just sit and tawk business, and Ah’ll take care

of everything.”Joyce shook her head. “Okay, if that’s how you want it...”“Oh,” Melanie smiled, “Ah insist.”Joyce smiled. “Okay, then. Lead the way.”Melanie took Joyce outside to Stark’s long dark sedan and ushered her into the back seat.

The second Stark saw Joyce he waved her inside. Joyce slid into a very comfortable seat, smiledin greeting, and then tried to look out the window in an effort to give Stark some privacy.

“No, tomorrow,” he said. “I think tomorrow will be better.”A pause, and then, “Things will be in better shape tomorrow, trust me. We’ll take a look

and gauge how everything is. Then I’ll decide.”He held his hand over the phone’s speaker. “My accountant,” he apologized. “He wants

you to take on some of the larger pieces in my father’s collection, but I wanted to see the galleryfirst.” Stark smiled. “He’s a little uptight.”

Joyce replied, “Aren’t all accountants?”Stark laughed softly. “Touché, Joyce.”After a short space he lifted his hand. “No, no, listen to me. We’ll take a look tomorrow,

understand? There’s no reason to hurry. They’ve been there long enough. One more day won’tkill anyone. All right?” A short pause.

“Excellent. Good-bye, then.” He hung up the phone.“I apologize for that, Joyce.”“Not at all,” she assured him.“No, it’s terribly rude of me, really.” He smiled. “I’d really like to have a look at your

gallery, you know.”“Why don’t we go inside, then?”




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“I thought you’d never ask,” he told her. “After you.”Joyce stepped out of the car, and Stark followed her. Melanie passed them carrying a

smaller box than the first one Joyce had seen her with.“Are you sure we shouldn’t help her?” Joyce asked as they walked toward the gallery.Stark shook his head. “Melanie is much stronger than she looks,” he told her. “She

excelled as an athlete as well as a scholar in college.” He smiled. “Texas A&M, and shegraduated double major, history and architecture, of all things. She also captained her lacrosseteam, soccer team, and volleyball team. And she’s pretty good with gymnastics.”

“Really?” Joyce asked. Buffy was into gymnastics, before she... started killing vampires. “She seems awfully big to be a gymnast.”

Stark smiled paternally. “That’s what her coach said,” he told Joyce, opening the door and ushering her inside the gallery, “until he saw her floor routine. Suddenly she had made theteam. They’d never seen anyone that tall move with such grace.”

Joyce turned to regard him. “You seem awfully proud of her,” she said.Stark waited until Melanie left the store and spoke in a whisper, “She’s like a daughter to

me, Joyce. I know she’s my niece, but we’ve always been close. I don’t have any children of myown, but I feel like a sire to her.”

“That’s very sweet,” Joyce said.“You know how it is, Joyce, don’t you? Didn’t you say you had a daughter of your

own?”Joyce swallowed. I don’t remember saying anything to him about Buffy. “Why, yes I

do.”“I’d love to meet her sometime,” Stark said. “If she’s anything like her mother, I’ll bet

she’s extraordinary.”Joyce tried not to blush at his compliment. “She’s in L.A. with her father, visiting,” she

told him.“Your husband lives in L.A.?” Stark asked.“Ex- husband,” Joyce supplied.“I’m sorry,” Stark said.“Not at all,” Joyce told him. “We parted pretty amicably.”Stark nodded. “That’s good. So much better when people can get along, even under

difficult circumstances.”Joyce nodded in agreement and Stark asked, “So this is the gallery?” As the words left

his lips Melanie entered with another box.“How many more, dear?” he asked her.“Total ah seven,” she replied. “Just three mow to go.” She gave them both a big smile.

“Be raht back.”“This is the gallery,” Joyce said, answering his earlier query.Stark tilted his head back and looked at the high white ceiling; he stuffed his hands in his

pockets as he walked around slowly, examining the layout of the room. Joyce watched him as he

moved; his steps were measured and cautious, and after a moment she realized he had closed hiseyes. But as he made his way across the gallery, he didn’t even brush against any of the displays,or make contact with anything in the room at all. He moved toward a display pillar that stood ateye level for Joyce, and about shoulder height for he and Melanie. He stopped as he neared it,removing his hands from his pockets and placing them atop the stand.

“This is it,” he said, and he turned to face Joyce. His brown eyes nearly glowed. “We’ll put the main piece there, and the rest...” he trailed off, laughing softly. “I’m sorry. It’s really your area of expertise to arrange these things, isn’t it?”




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“More or less,” Joyce agreed, amused by his intensity. “But I like to think I’m open tosuggestion.”

Stark put his hands back in his pockets. “Well, there is a special piece that we’ll have ondisplay that we won’t be selling.” He smiled. “This one I am attached to, and Melanie hasconvinced me that it’s too valuable to let go.” He shrugged. “It’s a pity, really, because it’s sucha gorgeous item. Much nicer than the others. But it really helps the display.”

“Do you have it with you?” Joyce asked. Melanie entered the shop with two smaller boxes; she stacked them atop one of the larger ones.

“Dear,” Stark said. “Did you bring in the centerpiece?”She nodded no. “Saved that fah last.”“Do bring it in. Joyce wants to see it.”Melanie nodded and smiled. “Shoah thing.”“You two seem to get on so well,” Joyce remarked.Stark tilted his head. “We’re family, Joyce. Family should always get along, don’t you

think?”Joyce nodded politely. “Of course.”Melanie returned quickly, carrying a wide rectangular box, made of wood like the others.

She brought it to her uncle and handed it to him. He took it to one of the shorter stands and set itdown. “If you would be so kind, Joyce,” he said, gesturing to it.

A simple wooden bar sealed the box, unlike any latch Joyce had ever seen before. Sheremoved the bar and handed it to Melanie. Joyce reached over and lifted the lid off the box andset it down at the foot of the stand. A scarlet cloth shrouded whatever lay inside; Joyce peeledthe fabric back to reveal a metal disk, almost a foot in diameter, with an open center. A jaggeddesign ran along the flat side of the disk, and there were nine pale blue stones set in it, eachequally distant from the next. It looked to be made from silver and gold, and the outer edgeappeared very sharp.

“What is this?” Joyce asked, her voice soft with awe.“That is the heirloom of the Stark family,” Raymond said. “We have possessed this item

for generations.”“It was stowlen, breeflay,” Melanie added. “But we wuh ayble to recuhvuh it.”Joyce was transfixed by the disk. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.Stark and Melanie shared a look; Stark nodded, as did Melanie.“It’s the very thing that will draw them in,” he told Joyce.“You got that right,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off if it.Stark waited for a few minutes, then cleared his throat. “Shall we set up the other

pieces?” he asked. “Or would you rather wait until morning?”“Hmm?” Joyce responded absently. She raised one hand to touch the disk.“Ah wouldn’t,” Melanie warned her.“What?” Joyce asked, still captivated by the disk.“Ah wouldn’t touch thayat. Not the brightest uhv ideas.”

“Oh,” Joyce mumbled. “Why not?”Stark moved to her and carefully folded the cloth over the disk. Joyce blinked as if she

were coming out of a trance. “Why shouldn’t we touch it?”Stark placed the lid on the box. “It’s very fragile, though it doesn’t look it. Even the

lightest touch could break it apart. We don’t want that, do we?”“No!” Joyce said, surprised by the urgency in her voice.“We’ll just keep this one with us until the exhibit opens up,” Stark said, “Safer that way,

don’t you think?”




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Joyce nodded, regaining control of her senses. “Sure. Absolutely.”Stark smiled and took her hand. “And I think that is our cue to leave. Good-bye, Joyce.”“Good naht,” Melanie said.“Bye,” Joyce managed as the two of them left the gallery.What was that thing?? Joyce asked herself as they drove off.

*

“So guys, are we done?” Cordelia asked as she slipped out of her car and approachedXander and Giles. The two men sat on a bench in the cemetery, both of them looking very bored.

“Cordy!” Xander piped up. “Hey Giles, it’s Cordy!”Cordelia smiled and ran to Xander, embracing him tightly and kissing him full on the

lips.“This is really getting to be a pattern with you two,” Giles said, but they didn’t hear him.After a moment they parted, and Xander tore his gaze away from Cordelia with some

difficulty. “So are we done?”Giles frowned. “Xander it’s only--” He glanced at his watch. “My goodness,” he said.

“It’s ten thirty.”“Hey, G, time flies and all that,” Xander said. “Can I go?”“Of course,” Giles said, standing up. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your

rendezvous.”“Hey!” Cordelia said.“I didn’t mean that kind of rendezvous,” Giles added hastily. “I just meant that I wouldn’t

want to stand in the way of any of your planned activities.”Both Cordelia and Xander stared at Giles.“Never mind,” he said. “I’m going. See you at ten tomorrow, Xander.”

“Giles, the school’s closed on Saturday.”Giles rubbed his chin in thought. “Come over to my apartment. There’s a courtyard there,we can train.” He walked off toward his car.

“He seems preoccupied,” Xander said, but Cordelia cupped his chin and kissed him longand deep, sliding her tongue into his mouth. They separated breathlessly, and Xander stared intoCordelia’s dark eyes. “And he wouldn’t be the only one.”

“I’ve got someplace special to take you tonight,” Cordelia said softly.Xander wriggled his eyebrows. “Special is good. Special I like.”“Come on,” Cordelia told him, taking his hand and leading him toward her car. As she

did so, Xander took in her outfit; she wore a tight red short sleeve sweater and matching snuglittle shorts. Even her shoes were red. Gotta hand it to Cordy, she knows how to work a theme.

“You’re looking awfully red tonight,” he said as they reached the car.

Cordelia smiled and ran a finger down his nose. “You noticed.”Xander shook his head. “Be kinda hard not to.”She opened the door. “Get in.”Xander did so.Cordelia sank into the driver’s side and peeled out, zipping through a yellow light and

accelerating quickly. Xander watched her as she drove; Cordelia seemed to be fully focused onthe road, her eyes watching out for traffic and her whole frame melding into the car. He lookedup and down her body, and continued staring at her face.




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At the very edge of her vision Cordelia could see that she had completely captivatedXander. Good, she thought. Now that I have your absolutely undivided attention... She took acorner quickly and sped onto a deserted access road, revving the engine and zooming down thedark street. In a matter of minutes they reached her destination, the hills that bordered Sunnydalealong the north side of town. Cordelia found it difficult for her to keep her eyes off Xander. Shecould almost hear him panting as she drove, and it took a great deal of self-control not to smile.

She pulled around to the edge of the gravel parking area that overlooked Sunnydale andcontinued staring out ahead, looking down on the town. Xander managed, after several minutes,to peel his eyes off of her and stare out the window. Cordelia risked a brief glance his way tomake sure he was taking in the view; then she joined him.

Xander turned back to her. “Cordy,” he breathed.She arched an eyebrow and turned to look at him. “Xander?”He sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have no idea what you’re trying to

do to me, but whatever it is, it is really working.”“I know,” she purred at him, and she leaned over and kissed him.Xander had never, as a child, or even recently, stuck his fingers in an electric socket. But

he suspected that it would feel something like this, like the jolt he got from Cordelia’s soft lips

pressing his, parting his, the way her hand worked on the top button of his shirt, the way the nailsof her other hand scratched at the back of his neck. Xander grabbed her, pulling her to him, andhe inhaled deeply as they kissed, his tongue fencing with hers. When they parted, he could barely breathe.

Wow, Cordelia thought. WOW. “Xander,” she said.“Yes?” he exhaled.“I didn’t bring you up here just to kiss you,” she murmured.“Huh?” he asked, his voice breaking mid-syllable. Oh my god, oh my god

ohmygodohmygodohmygod!“I have something I want to ask you,” she told him, unfastening another button.“Cordelia,” he tried to say, but his voice was so husky it almost sounded like a curse, “I

can pretty much assure you the answer will be yes.”She smiled and bent over, kissing the small area of his chest that the shirt exposed. “You

don’t even know the question,” she teased him, her brown eyes almost swallowing him as shestared at him.

“Well, okay,” he admitted, reminding himself to inhale. “But I really don’t think ‘no’ iseven in my vocabulary right now.”

“That’ll make this easier, then,” she said as she opened another button on his shirt and brushed her lips against his.

“Cordy,” he growled, but she put a manicured finger to his lips. “Shhhh,” she told him.He nodded mutely.“I’ve given this a lot of thought,” she said, running the finger over his lips and down his

chin, “and I really mean what I’m about to say, so I want you to take this seriously.”Xander parted his lips to speak, but Cordelia added, “I’m not finished.”He closed his mouth and nodded.“Xander...” she started, letting her eyes wander up his face until they met his. “We have

this thing going on between us. I know you feel it. I feel it too.” I’m really feeling it right about now, he thought as she shifted her weight on him slightly

and her thigh slid between his.




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“I don’t know how it started, or why... but I like it. And I think you like this thing between us too.”

He nodded emphatically.“And I was thinking... you know, with you training all the time now and everything,

you’re gonna be in great shape by the end of the summer. Not that you aren’t in fine shape now.”He nodded less enthusiastically, suddenly wondering where this might be going.“And I thought that with all of this working out and everything, that you would be totally

a shoo-in for the football team. Or even the basketball team.”Xander raised an eyebrow. Whaaaaat?She kissed his cheek. “Giles is helping you with coordination,” she said. “You’re gonna

be a natural athlete when he’s done with you.” She nodded seriously. “I can tell.”“Cordelia,” he started, but she brushed his lips closed with her hand. “Shhh. Not done

yet.”Xander nodded once more.“And I was thinking that if you made one of those teams... that we could date each

other... you know...”He looked into her eyes. Cordelia chewed briefly on her lip.

“Steady.”His eyebrows jerked up.“Openly.”His mouth opened.“So that, like, everyone would know.”Xander blinked.“Done,” Cordelia said, her face serious. “Well?”Xander inhaled; all he could smell was her perfume, and her hair spray, and, well, her.

He closed his eyes for a second and took another breath, painfully aware that for once in her life,in all the years he had known her, Cordelia Chase actually hung on his next few words.

“You know, if anyone else asked me that,” he told her, “I wouldn’t know what to say tothem.” He put a hand on her head and stroked her hair. “Cordy, I know this wasn’t easy for youto ask me. And I know how important this is to you.”

He’s gonna say no, she thought. Oh god, I feel like such a jerk, such an idiot...“And any man would have to be a total moron to say no to you,” he continued.Cordelia closed her eyes.“Cordy,” he said softly. “Do you like me?”She looked up at him. “What?”“Do you like me?” he repeated.“Of course,” she said.“No,” he said, “do you like me?” She frowned slightly. “I don’t...”“Because, you know, funny thing is, I like you. Not the Cordelia I see in school every

day, or the Cordelia who has to be the captain of the cheerleaders, but you. The Cordelia youdon’t like anyone else to see. The Cordelia, that, for some reason, you chose to show me.”

She shook her head. I don’t believe this. “That’s the Cordelia I want to be with,” he murmured. “That’s the Cordelia I see when

you smile, when you pick me up after patrol, that’s the Cordelia I talk to late at night on the phone.” He inhaled deeply and said. “That’s the Cordelia that I really like. A lot.”

She buried her face in his chest.




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“So if that’s the Cordelia that wants me with her, then I’m sayin’ hell yes. But that other Cordelia, that Cordelia that’s embarrassed to be seen with me in public... I don’t wanna knowher.”

“Xander,” she said, her voice muffled by speaking into his chest. “Shut up!”“What?” he asked.She raised her head, and he could see her eyes were moist. “Just shut up. And just forget I

ever said anything about this, okay? Just forget it.”“Cordy, I...” he trailed off. “I don’t know what to say.”She sat up, moving back to her side of the car. She wiped away a tear and said, “You

know what, Xander Harris? I’ve gone out with dozens of guys. I’ve gone out with varsityfootball players, and college guys, and basketball players...” She shook her head. “I even dated amarried man once.”

She turned to look at him. “But you know what?”He shook his head.“None of those guys ever made me cry, Xander. None of them. You were the first one.”Xander closed his eyes. “I’m good like that,” he said.“Dammit!” she said, hitting him on the shoulder. “I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to care

about you! I didn’t even like you for the longest time. And now I...” She put her hand over her eyes. “Dammit.”

“Cordy,” he said gently.She shook her head. “It’s not fair,” she said.“What’s not fair?” he asked her.She whirled on him. “I did not ask to fall...”Xander’s eyes almost bugged out of his head.“Oh, shit,” Cordelia said.“Cordy...” he said.She turned away from him.“Cordelia,” he said, more firmly.After a minute she turned to face him, wiping away another tear.“I didn’t ask to fall either,” he told her. “But if I had to... you know...”She looked at him.Xander took her hand. ”I picked a pretty good person to fall with, you know?”“I don’t get it,” she said after a moment. “I’ve been dating for five years and I suck at

this. You? You’ve, like, never dated anyone, and you’re really good at it.” She frowned at him.“How can that be?”

“The way I figure it, Cordy, either it’s beginner’s luck,” he told her, and added, “Or.”“Or what?”Xander looked into her eyes. “Or I’m really dating the right girl.”Cordelia shook her head. “Jesus, you are good at this,” she said, and she reached over

and pulled him to her, kissing him. Good thing one of us is...

*

Giles pulled up to his assigned space in the parking lot and hopped out of the car,muttering to himself and checking his watch again. He walked as quickly as he could toward hisapartment, reaching the door in a few long, fast strides. He pulled out his keys and started tounlock the door when a raspy voice asked him, “You always in such a hurry?”




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Giles turned quickly, his back to the door, and pulled a stake out from underneath hiscoat.

His questioner only held up his hands. “That thing looks like it would really hurt.”“Sam!” Giles said, lowering the stake.“It’s been a while, Rupert,” Sam Zabuto acknowledged, offering his hand.Giles put the stake away and shook Sam’s hand. “What is it now, five years?”Sam nodded. “Almost six. Jacqueline’s funeral.”Giles nodded. “In Bonn. Yes, I remember.” He looked at Sam. “It seems those in our

profession never get together over good news, doesn’t it?”Sam shrugged. “Part and parcel of the livelihood, Rupert. Watchers are invariably bearers

of bad news.” He smiled. “No wonder nobody wants to join us any more.”Giles chuckled. “I suppose not.” He gestured toward his apartment.Sam nodded. Good, Rupert. Never invite someone into your dwelling after dark. They walked into Rupert’s apartment and he closed the door, locking it. “Can I get you

something to drink?”“A scotch would be fine, if you have any,” Sam said.“Ordinarily, no. But when I knew you were coming...”

Sam laughed. “The weekend in Glasgow,” he said.“Exactly,” Giles agreed. “It was as if they had never seen a black man before.”“Aye, laddie,” Sam said, his voice perfectly imitating an Scottish accent. “Yee’d think

noht.”Both of them laughed again, and Giles handed Sam his scotch. For himself he poured a

beer, a dark draft with a foamy head on it.“How did it go?” Giles asked.“Kendra?” Sam asked, his face suddenly growing solemn. “It was quick. They won’t

defile her corpse.”“They dug up the Master from consecrated ground,” Giles said. “I didn’t know they

could do that.”Sam took a pull from his drink. “Cremation solved that problem.”Giles nodded. “Yes, of course, it would.”Sam stared up at the taller man. “I really cared about her, Rupert. If she were my own

daughter I couldn’t have loved her more. She was such a bright pupil, a fast learner, eager,dedicated...” He shook his head. “I was so proud when she became the Slayer. I thought shemight be the One.” He sighed. “I guess not.”

Giles sipped on his beer. “I’m sorry,” he said.Sam shook his head. “You’ve lost someone dear to you as well, I hear. That teacher...”“The gypsy I told you about. Jenny Calendar. Yes.” Giles removed his glasses. “Very

tragic.”Sam said, “You cared about you, didn’t her?”Giles nodded. “I was pretty much in love with her, yes,” he admitted, his voice tender.

Sam patted him on the arm. “I’m sorry too.”Giles nodded. “Thank you.”“So your Slayer has run away?” Sam asked, taking another hit of scotchGiles exhaled loudly. “You must think me a terrible watcher.”Sam shrugged. “Just the opposite. Besides, Merrick said Buffy was willful beyond belief.

And he had a lot more experience than you do.” Sam put his scotch down. “I’d say you werelucky she hasn’t run off before.”

“Buffy is rather independent,” Giles agreed.




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“That’s the main reason I agreed to this,” Sam told him. “I hate Los Angeles. It’s a filthystinking carcass of a town. But your reasoning makes sense-- if she sees you, she’ll just runagain, and then we may not find her until it’s far too late.” Sam folded his arms. “Can’t havethat.”

“No,” Giles said. “As it is, I’m training a local boy to fill in for her.”Sam frowned. “Rupert!”“I know,” Giles said. “Sam, I know it’s against the rules, but it’s only temporary, and this

is the Hellmouth. Frankly I don’t see why the Slayer can’t have a little help now and then.”“Despite what Foster says?”Giles sipped his beer. “Foster. Josephine was Foster’s fault. That’s no reason to go

handing down some outdated code to the rest of us and demand that we adhere to it.” Gileslooked at Sam. “Buffy has had help from her friends since she came to Sunnydale, and she’s a better person-- and a better Slayer-- because of it. Foster can go to hell.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “I see Buffy has rubbed off on you. You’re getting rebellious inyour middle age, Rupert.”

“I’m learning from experience. Didn’t you yourself say I would change the way I thoughtabout things if I ever had a Slayer to watch?”

Sam nodded. “I did indeed.”“Well then, you were right,” Giles told him. “Every Slayer is different. Your Kendra was

a breath of fresh air when she arrived. I did like her, Sam. She was an excellent student. But I amalso very fond of Buffy.”

“It happens to you,” Sam spoke. “You train them, you watch over them, you practicallyraise them.” He reached for his scotch. “They become your daughters, in a way.”

“Yes,” Giles said, sipping on his beer. “You’re quite right.”They sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in his thoughts, until Sam asked, “So.

What exactly do you want me to do in Los Angeles?”“Find Buffy. Find out what she’s doing. How she’s doing. If she’s alright, and all that.”Sam nodded. “You want me to bring her back?”“No offense, Sam, but I don’t think you could.”“Rupert,” Sam chided him. “She’s seventeen years old. She can’t know every trick in the

book.”“She beat the Master,” Giles said softly. “You’d be surprised how resourceful that young

woman is.” He raised his voice. “No, don’t try to bring her back. You’d just get yourself hurt.”Sam laughed.“What?” Giles asked. “What is so funny?”Sam glanced over at Giles. “I’m trying to imagine Kendra saying, ‘No, I won’t come with

you, Mr. Zabuto.’”Giles grinned. “Yes, it does seem rather out of character for her.”Sam smiled. “It would be.”“But it’s that very independence, that resilience, that gives Buffy her edge.” Giles looked

at Sam. “I have tried very hard not to discourage that-- most of the time.”“No one can argue with the job you’ve done so far,” said Sam.Giles looked at him. “What do you mean?”“You’re good at this job. I knew you would be.”Giles shook his head. “If that is the case, it’s pure luck, I assure you.”Sam said simply, “I don’t think so.”“I have to tell you, I was terrified when I heard they were nominating me to watch Buffy

Summers.”




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Sam chuckled. “Really?”“Oh yes,” Giles confided. “Merrick’s little rebel? The girl who burned down her school?”

Giles took a long drink from his beer. “And you know how everyone loved Felicia.”“Ah,” Sam smiled. “Felicia Halpern. Greenest eyes God ever gave a woman.” He

laughed. “I think we were all half in love with her.”Giles nodded. “It would have been easy to love her, yes,” he said. “So I was not exactly

taking an envied position.”“No,” Sam said. “I was glad I had Kendra at the time.”“And yet, you know, I would rather argue with Buffy Summers than agree with Felicia.”“Rupert,” Sam said, finishing off his scotch, “I do believe you are getting paternal on

me.”“You go to L.A. and meet her. You’ll see. Buffy is an extraordinary girl.”Sam nodded in agreement. “She’s killed Lothos, the Master, the Judge, and Angelus.” He

shook his head. “That’s a serious amount of work in two years. There are some Slayers who havelasted twice as long who haven’t done half as much.”

Giles took off his glasses. “I don’t like to say this, Sam. I don’t even like to think it,really. But I tend to believe that Buffy is the most talented Slayer that I’ve ever read about. That

maybe...” he faltered. “That maybe there ever was.”Sam smiled. He knew the feeling; he’d had the same thoughts about Kendra. “You think

Buffy might be the One. Capital ‘O’.”Giles shook his head. “It’s silly, I know. Foolish. Prideful.”Sam placed his hand on Giles’ shoulder. “Rupert, you wouldn’t be a watcher if you didn’t

think your girl was the One. We all do.”Giles frowned. “It’s not only that I’m fond of Buffy. The Wayland Codex specifies that

the Final One will be aided by an immortal. It’s very specific on that point, even if it’s terriblyhazy about almost everything else.” He looked over at same. “Angel-- before he reverted toAngelus-- was an immortal. And he aided Buffy in her fight against the Master. I thought thatmight be a connection.”

Sam laughed. “You Englishmen-- why do you always take the word of an English writer over the other sources? National myopia?”

Giles wagged a finger at Sam. “Wayland was Welsh, and you know that. And I knowWolfram contradicts him. But Wolfram also foretold that a wolf would devour the moon. I don’tknow that I can really take him all that seriously.”

“Angel didn’t help her very long,” Sam argued.“Wayland never states how long the duration will be,” Giles pointed out.Sam folded his arms. “There’s really only one way to settle this, you know.”Giles raised an eyebrow.“I’ll catch a morning flight to L.A. It’s a short hop. And I’ll find Buffy Summers and I’ll

judge for myself if she could be the Final One.” Sam smiled. “And I’ll tell you how she’s doing,what she’s doing, who she’s doing it with.” He stood and headed for the door. “And if I’m

feeling cocky, I’ll tell her you said hello.”“Sam,” Giles said, moving over to him and shaking his hand. “Thank you for your help,

really.”Sam waved him off. “Every watcher likes to feel useful, Rupert. This is my pleasure.” He

turned to open the door.“Oh, Sam, I almost forgot,” Giles said, stopping him.“Hmm?”“You wouldn’t know anything about a Janice Covington, would you?”




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Sam Zabuto blinked. “The archaeologist who had an affair with Ian Merrick?”“I’ll take that as a yes,” Giles muttered.“What about her?”Giles spoke, “I’ve just finished her first diary and I’m trying to track down the next one. I

was wondering where to go looking for it.”“You’re in luck,” said Sam. “I know where the other one is.”“There’s only one more?” Giles asked.Sam nodded. “Janice Covington was not prolific.”Giles frowned. “Pity. She was a damned fine writer.”Sam tapped Giles on the chest. “I’ll pick it up for you when I’m in L.A.”Giles raised an eyebrow.“Merrick had it. Ian gave it to his son Donald. It’ll be with his things.”“Sam, I can’t thank you enough,” Giles said. “For everything.”“Like I said, Rupert, just happy to be useful.”“Have a safe trip,” Giles said, shaking Sam’s hand again.Sam nodded and left, closing the door firmly behind him. And do find a way to bring Buffy back here.

*

Xander climbed out of the pool, his muscles rippling in the sunlight as he climbed theladder and stepped onto the blue tile. He shook himself off a little, spraying some water on the patio; she watched him as the sunlight sparkled against the droplets on his wide, broad shoulders. She peered closer as drops of water ran down his chest, some of them were caught bythe patch of dark chest hair, but the rest ran down over his pectorals and his flat, hard stomach. It didn’t feel that cool out, but his nipples stood stiffly. She looked away from him for a moment,

but he made his way over to her. Soon his legs were right next to her lounge chair, and shelooked up at his body again, now suddenly dry, past his chest to the warm smile and the puppy-dog brown eyes. Xander smiled at her, and she felt a flush of heat creep across her face and neck as he said, “Were you waiting for me?”

“No,” she said back, coyly. Or what she thought coy sounded like. She glanced down and noticed that she wore a tiny green metallic bikini. She looked up at him and saw undeniably that he had noticed as well-- and that he appreciated her outfit.

“Yeah, you were,” he teased, smiling at her, and he reached down and ruffled her hair.She wanted to kiss him, to pull him to her and feel his lips touch her everywhere, feel them pressagainst every inch of her.

“Well, maybe a little,” she grinned, reaching out and taking his hand. His palm felt warm, and he gave her fingers a little squeeze.

“Ah, Will,” Xander said, leaning closer. “You’ve been waiting for me your whole life.”“No, I haven’t,” Willow said. “I haven’t been waiting for you.” Xander nodded, confident. “Yes you have,” he said, his voice low and sexy. “And you

don’t have to wait any longer, Willow. We aren’t children any more.”She took a deep breath. “No, we’re not,” she breathed, moving close to him.“Answer me one question,” he breathed, his lips almost touching hers.“Anything,” she moaned.“What the hell is Oz doing with a monkey?”




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“What?!?!?” Willow blurted. Xander pointed. “Right over there. Sitting at the table.”Willow turned around, and sure enough, there sat Oz at the picnic table, feeding grapes

to a monkey.“Oz!” Willow warbled out. “What are you doing here??”Oz handed the monkey another grape. “Little Jacques lost his pants,” Oz replied.Willow’s eyes flashed open. “That was weird,” she said to herself. “Oz never showed up

in that dream before.” She rubbed her forehead and rolled over, closing her eyes and settling back into a comfortable position.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.Willow frowned.Screeee-itch. Scritch. She sat up. She listened closely, keeping her whole body still with concentration.Scritch. Scritch. Blunk.“Blunk?” Willow whispered, but the sound repeated itself.Willow moved toward the edge of the bed, fear coursing through her. Whatever made the

noise was outside. And close. And big enough to blunk.

She slid one foot to the floor, but a flash of terror hit her. I haven’t walked in over a week.What if I forget how? What if I can’t? How will I get away? Her other socked foot touched thefloor.

Willow took a deep breath and held it. Gingerly she stood, balancing herself near theedge of the bed. I can stand, she realized. That’s a good sign. Now if I can just make it to thedoor...

Another thump sounded, and Willow looked out the window. A tuft of dark hair stuck up, just the top of a head. She froze in horror as the thing’s head slowly slid up into the pane of thewindow. Definitely a vampire, its yellow eyes glared at her, and long fangs bared themselves asthe thing hissed at her.

“You can’t come in,” Willow whispered, her eyes wide. She glanced over at her desk,where the phone lay. Underneath a stack of papers lay a large wooden cross. But her desk stoodtwelve feet away, and in her present condition, that might as well have been Iowa.

The vampire hissed again and slid a hand toward the open window. The clawed fingers brushed up against an invisible barrier; the vampire scowled. “Let me in,” it snarled.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Willow said. She stumbled away from the bedunsteadily, her torso swaying as she forced herself to stay standing-- and to keep walking--toward the desk.

“Willow!” the vampire growled. “You’ll die if you don’t let me in!”“Go away!” Willow said, her brow knit in concentration as she took another wobbly step.

Only a few more feet.“Willow!” it repeated. “Ask me in!”Willow pitched forward, but she’d gotten close enough to the desk so that she caught

herself, breaking the fall. She sank to her knees and grabbed the phone. She hit the first speeddial button and waited, looking at the vampire’s wrinkled face in the window.

“Willow!” it said again. “Your life depends on it!”“Come on,” she murmured into the ringing phone. “Come on.”Again the vampire tried to reach in, but the barrier held. The vampire hadn’t been invited

in; it couldn’t violate Willow’s home, though it obviously wanted to.A click sounded in the phone. “Huh?”“Xander,” Willow said. “Get over here, now!”




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“Willow?” he sounded disoriented. “Willow, is that you?”“Xander,” she repeated. “There’s a vampire at my window.”“Don’t let him in,” Xander supplied helpfully.“I’m not gonna let him in!” she yelped. “Get over here! Now! Quick!”Xander suddenly sounded alert. “I’m comin’, Will,” he assured her. “Hang on. I’ll be

right there.”“Hurry!” she said, but he clicked the phone down.She placed the phone on the desk and grabbed the cross from under the papers. She held

it up in the direction of the window.“He can’t stop me, Willow,” the vampire told her. “He can’t stop any of us.”“He’ll kill you,” Willow said adamantly.“Funny,” the vampire retorted, “I don’t remember hearing of any Slayers that were

male.”Crap! Willow thought. She walked on her knees a few paces closer to the window.“That’s it,” the vampire said. “Let me in. I can save you, Willow. No one else would

bother, but I can.”“Shut up!” Willow said, shuffling closer to the window.

“With no Slayer around, you don’t stand a chance!” the vampire smiled. “Let me in,Willow. I’ll protect you. I’ll make sure you aren’t sacrificed like the others.”

Willow continued her slow progress across the room. “Be quiet!”The vampire snarled at her. “Don’t be a fool! Don’t let your fear blind you. You know

something is coming. You just don’t know what! I can tell you, Willow, if you let me.”“Really?” Willow asked as she neared the window.“I promise,” the vampire said. “I can tell you everything you want to know.”Willow looked into the terrible yellow eyes. They gazed back at her with startling

intensity and intelligence, as if the vampire tried to convince her it told the truth.“I told you before,” Willow said, raising the cross like a knife, “shut up!” She swung the

cross down, and it smacked the vampire on the fingers of its left hand. Flesh sizzled as the holyobject touched the cursed skin; the vampire jerked its hand away, snarling.

“Idiot,” the vampire said.“Liar,” Willow retorted, smacking the thing’s other hand. When the vampire jerked its

hand away, it realized it had no purchase on the window sill, and it fell to the ground, landing flaton its back.

Willow leaned out the window and peered down. It’s a woman vampire! she saw as thevampire stood up and brushed herself off. “Stupid girl,” she hissed up at Willow. “Now you’llnever know.”

“Some things aren’t worth knowing,” Willow said. “I’ll stay with the living for now,thanks.”

The vampire shook her head. She stepped back a few paces and nimbly leapt over theneighbor’s fence; within seconds she had vanished into the darkness. Willow watched the spot

where she had gone, but she could see nothing except an inky blackness.The sound of feet padding up the side walkway of her house caught her attention, and she

smiled as she saw Xander come skidding to a halt beneath her window. “Xander!” she stagewhispered.

“I don’t see any dead people,” he said, softly, but loud enough for her to hear.“I scared her off,” Willow told him.“Her?” Xander asked.“Come on up,” Willow said.




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“How?” Xander asked. “I’m not Spider-man.”“My dad was cutting branches off the tree earlier,” Willow told him. “The ladder is still

out.”“Will, they’ll hear!” he protested.“Not if you’re careful.”Xander shrugged. What the hell, right? The worst her parents can do is kill me for being

in Willow’s bedroom at two o clock in the morning. But he fetched the ladder and set it againsther sill, with her help, as quietly as he could. He climbed up quickly and slid in through thewindow.

Willow sat on the floor near where he entered. “You okay?” he asked.She nodded.“You need some help getting over to the bed?”She nodded again, and Xander scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed.

When he set her down, Willow hesitated for a moment before she withdrew her arms fromaround his neck.

“Better?” he asked, and Willow smiled.“Better,” she answered.

Xander pulled the covers over her legs.“So what was this all about?”“Some vampire told me that she wanted to protect me and tell me secrets.”Xander raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new approach. ‘Nah, I don’t want to suck your

blood, I wanna be your friend.’” He snorted. “Right.”Willow shuddered. “The really creepy thing is, I do think she wanted to tell me

something. Or at least she wanted something out of me.”Xander fixed her with a stare.“Besides blood,” she told him.“I dunno, Will. I’d say your imagination has gotten up and run away with you.”Willow frowned. “Xander, she knew she couldn’t come in, but she came here anyway.

She knew I knew about vampires-- she knew I knew about the Slayer!”“Maybe she was looking for Buffy,” Xander offered.Willow shook her head. “There was more than that. She was here for a reason. She didn’t

come to feed, Xander.”“Come on, Willow,” he said. “That’s what they do.”“I know,” she agreed. “But she didn’t come here for blood. She came here for me.

Because of me.” Willow wrapped her arms around herself. “Why? Why would a vampire wantanything to do with me?”

Xander shook his head. “I don’t know,” he told her. “This is really more of a Gilesthing.”

“Xander,” Willow spoke, looking into his eyes. “Would you stay here tonight? Tillmorning?”

“Willow, I...”“Downstairs, on the couch,” she said.His face radiated indecision.“Xander,” she said, taking his hand, “I’m scared. Some vampire wants me for some

reason, and not for the usual reason. I’m afraid she’s gonna come back. I want you here if shedoes.”

“Will, she can’t come in. She can’t hurt you.”




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Willow looked hurt. “Doesn’t it mean anything to you that I’m frightened? That I’masking you to stay in my house because I’m afraid for my life?”

Xander closed his eyes. “Willow...”“Or don’t you care about me any more?” she asked, her voice soft.Xander put an arm around her. “Willow, you are the first friend I ever had. You’re the

best friend I ever had. You want me here...”He lifted her chin so he could stare into her eyes.“I’m here. Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you want. Nobody’s gonna hurt my Willow. No

creepy, pretending-to-be-friendly vampire chicks, nobody.”She closed her eyes and pressed her face to his chest.“Just one thing,” he said, and Willow pulled back to look at him.“Don’t ever ask if I care about you, okay?” He met her eyes. “I know there’s a lot

of...stuff going on right now. But I will always care about you, Willow. No matter what. Wecould be a hundred years old and married to other people for eighty years and I’d still comerunnin’ when you called.” He shrugged. “‘Course, it’d take me a lot longer to get here when Iwas a hundred. Cause, you know... I’ll be really slow.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held him to her for a long time before she let him

go.

*

The sun beat down on her like a hammer; sweat rolled down her back, and she scratched at a mosquito bite the size of a dime. She could hear a strange language being spoken nearby --it sounded guttural, foreign. Not European, certainly. She could speak French, but she hadn’t used it since high school, so she wasn’t sure how useful she would be.

She drank from a tin canteen and replaced the cap; it hung around her neck, attached toa worn leather strap. Joyce frowned as she noticed she wore some sort of brown leather driving gloves. ‘Where am I?’

“You almost ready, Dana?” a voice asked her.“Buffy?” Joyce said, turning around. Her daughter stood not ten feet away. Judging by Buffy’s clothes, Joyce would have

sworn it was Halloween, except for the heat. Buffy wore a brown leather fedora and a matching jacket, a dirty white men’s dress shirt and baggy khaki pants. A pistol hung at her hip, and sheheld a rolled up sheet of paper.

“Dana?” Buffy asked back, a little curtly.“Sweetheart, what are we doing here? Where are we?” Buffy looked none too happy. “How many times do I have to tell you? Didn’t Ian fill you

in?” She threw up her arms in disgust. “That’s right. He never tells you anything , does he? Always protecting his baby sister.”

“I don’t follow you,” Joyce said. Buffy moved closer and poked her on the chest with one finger. “Following me is all you

better do. Not a word out of you. Not a peep when we’re in the cave, got it?” Buffy snorted. “I didn’t come all this way just to not retrieve that thing because some lady of the manor can’t keepher trap shut.”

Joyce shook her head again, but before she could say anything, Cordelia appeared. Shedressed similarly to Buffy, but all of her clothes looked newer, and seemed far nicer. She wore a




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beige silk shirt, and her pants still had the creases on them. Her boots creaked as she came up tothem. Unlike Buffy, however, she carried no weapon.

“Almost ready?” Cordelia asked. Her voice sounded odd, somehow, but Joyce couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Soon as Miss Manners here gets it in gear,” Buffy growled.“Hey now,” Cordelia said. “Don’t go bein’ all mean to her just because she still has

some refinement.” Buffy shook her head and stomped off.“Don’t mind her,” Cordelia said to Joyce. “She’s just eager to get her lil’ trophy out of

the hands of the undead.”“Cordelia, could you please tell me what’s going on?”Cordelia glanced in the direction that Buffy had taken. “We’re close to gettin’ our hands

on that lil’ disk .” Cordelia smiled. “So naturally she’s just a bit tense.”‘The disk,’ Joyce thought, but before she could ask Cordelia about it, Xander approached

them.“I beg your pardon, ma’am, but we’re ready to go.” He turned to Cordelia. “Melinda,

are we all set?”She gave him a wide smile. “Ready when you are, Jack.”

“Jack?” Joyce asked, and Xander turned to her. “Hmm?”“Will someone tell me why we are going after that disk? I really don’t understand any of

this.”“Not to worry,” Xander assured her. “You just stick close to us and we’ll take care of

you, Miss Merrick.”“Merrick?” Joyce asked. “Why does that name seem... familiar, somehow?”“Because it’s yours,” Buffy snapped from behind Joyce. Joyce turned, and Buffy stood

with Giles. His outfit resembled Buffy’s as well; leather jacket, canvas pants, a backpack.“Rupert?” Joyce shook her head. ‘What in the hell is going on?’ He came over to her. “Easy, Dana. I warned you it would be hot, even early. You’d better

get your hat. We’ll be inside most of the day, but I don’t want you worrying about sunstroke.”“Ian,” Buffy said. “If she’s this much trouble, maybe we should leave her here. You’ve

read the scrolls. You know how important it is that we get this thing out of their hands.”“Honey,” Giles said to Buffy. “Dana’s serious about helping us. She just lacks our

experience, that’s all. Even you were new at this once.” Buffy snorted. “About twenty years ago.”“Shall we go, then?” Xander suggested, and the five of them left the area and proceeded

toward higher, rockier ground. Joyce noticed some sort of archaeological dig taking place onthe other side of the ridge. She could hear digging, and singing in that same guttural foreignlanguage. She stumbled a bit, and Xander caught her and helped her regain her footing. Shethanked him and continued following Cordelia, who seemed much more sure-footed than she.

After some time passed, Joyce looked up and saw the gaping maw of a cave. She knewwithout asking this was their destination; it stood some way up the ridge, ahead and above them

as they walked along a narrow path. She assumed that the disk-- whatever that thing was-- layinside the cave.

N O .‘What?’ Joyce thought.T HIS ALREADY HAPPENED . DON ’ T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN .

“Did you say something?” Joyce asked Xander.“No, ma’am,” Xander replied pleasantly. Buffy turned to glare at her.




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Y OU ’ RE MISSING THE KEY . Y OU CAN ’ T GET THE DISK WITHOUT IT .“The key?” Joyce asked.“Excuse me?” Cordelia asked.“Dana,” Buffy spat. “Shut up!”“We can’t get the disk without the key,” Joyce offered.They all stopped. “What?” Joyce shook her head. “I don’t know what it means. I just know we can’t get the disk

without it.”“What key?” Giles asked.“I don’t know,” Joyce responded. “I’m sorry.”“What key?” Xander echoed. Buffy and Cordelia glanced at one another. “The scrolls didn’t say anything about a

key,” Buffy said.Giles told her, “You can’t trust prophecy to tell you everything.”“You were the one who said we could trust prophecy in the first place,” Xander replied.Cordelia stroked her forehead. “But the scrolls don’t mention any keys, anywhere.” She

turned to Joyce. “Dana, how do you know this?”

Joyce bit her lip. “I heard a voice,” she said. Buffy and Giles rolled their eyes, and Xander turned away. But Cordelia said, “What did

the voice tell you?”“It told me we’re missing the key,” Joyce said, a little frustrated herself.“Did it tell you anything else?” Cordelia asked. In the distance, Joyce heard rumbling.W AKE U P . ‘What?’ Joyce asked the voice.W AKE UP! Joyce awoke gasping, sweat rolling down her neck and soaking her nightgown. She

shook her head and reached for the glass of water on the night stand. She took several mouthfulsand whispered, “What a strange dream.” She lay looking up at the ceiling for a long time.

*

Giles sat down, blowing on his mug of tea to cool it. Half a dozen scones lay untouchedin the center of the dining room table, and the four students assembled around it remained silent.Giles knew it was Saturday, and he knew quarter after ten was likely early for this group, but ashe took a sip of tea he couldn’t help but feel that something more transpired. This is not just tired teenagers being quiet. This is a display of sullenness.

Xander leaned forward and picked up a scone; he examined it carefully, as if it were analien artifact of some sort, and then he sniffed it.

“It’s a scone,” Giles supplied.

“Ah,” Xander said. “It’s a decoration, right?”“You eat them,” Giles told him.Xander put the scone back on the plate. “No, you eat them. I regard them with suspicion.”He looked to Cordelia for some support; she glared straight ahead. Willow smiled briefly,

then saw Cordelia and frowned. Oz, for his part, appeared not even to be aware someone hadspoken.

“Willow?” Giles ventured, offering her the plate.“I ate before I came over,” she said pleasantly. “But thanks.”




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“Okay, that was wrong, I admit it. But it just goes to show that you’re the object of attention plenty of times, Cordy.”

“Oooh, remember when they were going to make you the bride of Frankenstein?” Willow piped up.

Everyone looked at her.She shrugged, embarrassed. “Just trying to help.”“About this vampire,” Giles reminded her.“Who knew your name?” Oz asked.Willow nodded.“I don’t like that,” Oz said. “That is not good.”Giles pursed his lips. “Probably not. Most vampires see us as little more than a meal.

Only the keenly intelligent-- or the very old-- realize that they can use us as well as feed off of us.”

“Humans,” Xander said. “The functional food.”Giles said, “I think we can assume you were visited by a highly intelligent vampire.”“As opposed to old, because...?” Oz wondered.“Because an older vampire usually has lackeys. They begin to acquire knowledge, and

power. They don’t run little errands like this. They send others to do their dirty work.”“So she was a lackey?” Willow asked.“It was a she?” Cordelia asked.Willow nodded. “She was fast, too. Took off like the wind.”Giles adjusted his glasses. “What exactly did she say, Willow?”Willow responded, “She told me that none of the others cared about me, that she would

save me. She said that if I let her protect me, she would tell me what was going on. But if Ididn’t, I’d be sacrificed.”

“Sacrificed?” Oz repeated.“Told you she was creepy,” Willow said.“So, now, let me get this straight,” Cordelia said. “Buffy leaves town and suddenly you

become target girl?”“I didn’t exactly volunteer for it,” Willow responded.“Did she mention any names?” Giles said. “As in who would sacrifice you, or to whom

you would be sacrificed?”“Morbid much?” Cordelia snapped.Giles ignored her.Willow’s brow creased in concentration. “She knew I knew the Slayer,” Willow said.

“And she knew the Slayer wasn’t around. She said we didn’t stand a chance without the Slayer.”“So someone is planning something,” Giles said. “The Slayer’s absence is making

someone bold.”“Our old friend Spike?” Xander suggested.Giles spoke, “He would have the audacity to plan something, and I can see where he

might know of Willow, having been acquainted with Angel as he was.” Giles frowned. “But Ican’t see Spike using such an intelligent female lackey. Druscilla would have a fit.”

“Good point,” Willow admitted.“Somebody new?” Oz asked.Giles sighed. “More than likely, I’m afraid. Which, under the current circumstances is

something we do not need.”Silence followed that remark as each of them digested what it meant. But a knock on

Giles’ door cut short their musings.




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Willow used every ounce of willpower she possessed to concentrate on Oz and say,“Xander and I have been friends forever, Oz. I just expected that when he got his first girlfriend,he’d tell me.” She gave Xander a dark look.

“Will,” he replied feebly. “We sorta had other things on our mind last night. Creepyvampire woman, remember?”

Joyce shook her head. I think I was better off not knowing about all of this. Where is Rupert?

Giles returned and stood next to Joyce. He placed an old, worn leather-covered book infront of her. “It’s in the middle,” he said, flipping it open and pointing to a page. “You weredreaming about a trip those five people took in 1946, in Greece.”

“That’s impossible,” Joyce said, picking up the book, reading it.After a moment she looked up. “She’s a very good writer,” she remarked.“Isn’t she?” Giles asked.Joyce continued reading for a moment. Giles looked at the students, who had resumed

their sullen attitudes of earlier, except that Cordelia had entwined herself around one of Xander’sarms. It’s hard to believe that girl is as affectionate toward Xander as she is, he mused as Joyceflipped a page.

“This is incredible,” Joyce said. “This is what happened in my dream! With less detail, of course.” She continued reading. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “Oh,” she repeated, and then,“Oh, no.”

“Hmm?” Xander asked.“Cordelia dies,” Joyce responded.“I what?” she asked, releasing Xander’s arm. “I’m gonna die?”“We’re all gonna die, Cordy,” Xander told her. “Someday.”Giles closed his eyes. Wrong answer, Xander. “Yeah, but she didn’t dream that you would die!” Cordelia said. “And she’s Buffy’s

mother-- Mrs. ‘the Slayer is my baby!’ Who knows what her dreams mean!”“Cordelia,” Giles said, “it wasn’t you. It was a woman named Melinda Pappas. She was

killed rather violently. You were assuming her role in Ms. Summers’s dreams. There’s no threatto you.”

“Oh,” Cordelia said, managing to look both relieved and disappointed at once.“How did she die?” Willow asked.“It’s rather ugly,” Giles avoided her.Joyce set the book down. “She was killed by vampires.” She looked up at Giles. “They

were led into a trap and attacked by vampires. Melinda died, and so did Dana.” Joyce looked upat Giles. “How can this be? How can I have dreamed this?”

“If I recall, the purpose if their expedition was to recover the chakram.”“Gesundheit,” Oz said.“I beg your pardon?” Giles asked, but Oz shrugged.“The what?” Xander asked.

“The chakram,” Giles repeated. “It was an ancient weapon that Janice Covington and her friends found in the tomb of a demon named Ares.”

“Aries the ram?” Willow asked.“No,” Giles corrected her. “No, this chap...” He rubbed his forehead. “This demon

thought he was the ancient Greek god of War. Or at least he passed himself off as such to Janiceand her group. They managed to escape his lair and entrap him inside it. They found thechakram, but left it in Ares’ tomb and proceeded bury it.”

“And this all fits in how?” Xander asked.




140

“Ms. Summers had a dream about an expedition to recover the chakram.”“I thought you just said they buried it in that vampire’s lair,” Cordelia said.“They did,” Giles agreed. “But it was apparently dug up by vampires, and Janice led an

expedition to get it back from them.” Giles sighed. “She took Jack Kleinman, Melinda Pappas,and Dana and Ian Merrick with her. The two ladies were killed by vampires, and Janice and thetwo men barely made it out of Greece with their lives. As far as I know, she never did recover the chakram. But I haven’t read the second half of Ms. Covington’s diaries.”

“And you think this magic disk that Ms. Summers saw might be this...chakram?” Willowasked.

“Precisely,” Giles told her.“But you just said it was unearthed by vampires and never recovered,” Willow said to

Giles.He opened his mouth to respond, but Willow spoke again.“And you just said,” she gestured to Joyce, “every time you’ve seen this guy Stark, it’s

been after supper. As in after dark after supper.”“Good God,” Giles said.“What?” Joyce asked. “What are you saying?”

“So the vampires still have this shamrock thing?” Xander asked.Joyce looked at Giles. “Are they saying what I think they’re saying?” she asked him, her

voice wavering.Giles nodded. “You may be business with a vampire.” He took off his glasses. “And if he

possesses an artifact this old, and this powerful... then he is not someone we should be takinglightly. At all.”

Cordelia shrugged. “Great. Now even I wish Buffy was here.”

*

A darkness moved through Sunnydale that night, slowly and deliberately. In its wake itleft silence; not a living thing dared stir where it had passed, and even the smallest, meanestcreature felt its presence as it moved by. Light hardly seemed to be able to reach it; the blacknessit radiated swallowed the light as a thirsty man gulps down water, and it drew others of its kindto it. Smaller shadows that dwelt only in the night, they gained courage as the great blacknessmoved past them. They left their holes in twos and threes to follow it, instinctively, heeding acall as old as their kind itself. By the time the moon had started its descent, they numbered closeto fifty, a veritable legion of the damned. No mirror would ever reflect them; no sunlight wouldever kiss their flesh, and nothing this evening would stand in their way. From the greater darkness they could almost feed themselves, so potent was it; but as it led them into thegraveyard, it held up its hand.

“No further,” a voice rasped to them. Yellow eyes coalesced from the inky shadow. “I

must go the rest of the way myself.”“Master,” one woman said, bowing her head. “Please be careful. She has been in there.”“Child,” he smiled at her, revealing fangs long and sharp. “Your concern touches me.”

One long finger stroked her cheekbone. “But the Slayer is not here. I would be able to feel her if she were.”

She bowed her head again and stepped back.He entered the mausoleum, and as his disciple had informed him, he could feel the power

the Master had gathered here. Long had he dwelt here, and his aura hung heavy on the place. The




vampire king also recognized the stench of the Slayer, a different girl this time but always thesame horrible smell, that terrible cleanliness that sickened so many of his followers. I would swallow you whole like a shark would a minnow, were you here, he thought as he passed throughthe gates and descended down into the earth. But you had the wisdom to flee town before mycoming. Deep down you must realize you cannot stop me.

He stepped down into the Master’s lair, glancing around at the cave walls and the smallattempts at converting the area into a proper place of worship. Though the cavern remained pitch black, the vampire king could see quite well. He avoided the Master’s throne for the moment andmoved toward the water. His disciple had told him that the water had been blessed. Such athoughtless abomination, to befoul the home of one so old. They would cry if we were to topplethe Parthenon, or paint it bright orange. Yet they defile our homes without regard to our history,our desires.

He reached a finger down and touched the water; it bubbled and hissed where his finger made contact, and he withdrew it when the digit began to hurt. That water is not blessed, hescowled. The Slayer bathed in it. Or fell in it, or stepped in it. Her essence that pollutes it.

Easily taken care of, he mused as he stood up and moved to the throne, an old chair carved from the rock whose design he recognized.

“Zuvan,” he spoke, his voice almost fond. “Such a traditionalist. So reverent of the oldways.” He smiled, running his hand over the arm of the throne.

“Your sacrifice will not be in vain. Your passing will not be forgotten.”He turned away from the throne. “You were the very first of us, Zuvan. You were the

very first vampire sired in all the world-- the first to be made of blood, and not transformed bythat curse that brought us to life. How fitting you called yourself the Master.”

The vampire king’s yellow eyes almost glowed as he spoke. “It is regrettable that you didnot survive long enough to see our day come. We are so very close, Zuvan. And knowing thisnew Slayer killed you will only make our victory all the sweeter.” He inhaled deeply. “Still...”

He nodded in the darkness. “I shall miss you, my son.”

* * *

Buffy: Innocent Blood Chapter 6

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Transcript of Buffy: Innocent Blood Chapter 6