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It's Not Where You Start Out (6/17)
by Kelly Frieders
raykel2@cox.net
Genre: Drama, B/S
Rating: PG-13, nothing you wouldn't see on the show
Disclaimer: Spike's not mine. Wish he were, but my husband might
object. Buffy and all the rest aren't mine, either. I'm just borrowing
them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy for a while.
Summary: Post "The Gift." Way post "The Gift," actually. Takes place
sometime the following year. There's some new interest in the Key and
an old enemy is back in town. Spoilers for everything up to and
including "The Gift."
----------
6.
Buffy walked slowly toward the Magic Box on Monday morning after having
walked Dawn to school. She'd told Dawn she could stay home from school
if she wanted, but Dawn had decided to go anyway. Something to take her
mind off what had happened. Buffy wished she had a similar distraction,
but the walk into town was routine and offered little in the way of
diversions. One of these days she was going to have to seriously
consider making another attempt at getting a driver's license. But for
now, as always, she was stuck hoofing it.
Brother Ondrih's last words weighed heavily on her. This was not a one-shot deal; they would have to be prepared to deal with him again.
Already accused of being overprotective, she knew she'd have to step up
even from there. Dawn would need to be watched constantly, which she'd
hate, but at least now maybe she'd have some concept why it was
important. She'd allowed Buffy to walk her to school without complaint
-- this time -- but how long would that last? How long *could* it last?
And here all Dawn wanted to do was be normal and now she was on the
hunted list again. Only this time the hunters knew whom they were
hunting. Dammit!
She had no idea how to handle this, either. Her usual foes were
vampires and other demons and her usual solution was a stake to the
heart or a sword in the gut. But these were humans which was a whole
different ballgame. As she'd told Brother Ondrih last night, she
certainly was willing to kill a human in self defense or in defending an
innocent, but it was something she avoided. Last night could have
qualified as self-defense; clearly another few minutes and Dawn would
have not only been eradicated from existence but from their memories as
well. However, if there were alternatives to killing humans, Buffy
always went with them; hence Willow's paralysis spell.
The problem was that this would keep her constantly on the defensive,
which was pretty much a repeat of the Glory situation, although with
Glory it had been because Glory was so powerful they didn't know *how*
to kill her. With humans she just couldn't do it. She couldn't go on
the offensive and hunt the way she would if her enemy were a vampire.
"Give me the good old days when a wooden stake solved all my problems,"
she mumbled out loud.
Damn, she missed Giles. Her former Watcher's advice would have been
invaluable right about now. He was more of a pragmatist than she was
and she missed having his guidance when a foe required more finesse than
hunt-find-kill. She'd even called him late last night -- late morning
in England -- only to find that he was on some Watcher's isolation
retreat, totally alone in the moors or something lame like that. Stupid
Watchers and their ridiculous rites and traditions. She'd been told she
could reach him if it were an extreme emergency, but had declined. The
situation wasn't quite yet what she'd call an extreme emergency.
Hopefully it would never get to that point.
She'd have to get the gang together today and talk it through, however,
which was partly why she was going to the Magic Box now. She'd be going
anyway, to train, which she did almost every day, but more importantly
they needed to work out how to protect Dawn twenty-four/seven. Willow
and Tara could set up some barrier spells around the house and they
could look after Dawn when Buffy was out patrolling. Xander and Anya
could help with that, too; in fact Xander had already offered to pick
Dawn up after school since his current construction site was near there.
And Spike--
Buffy groaned. Spike. What was she going to do about him? He'd been
pretty ticked off last night when she'd told him she didn't want him to
go with them after Dawn -- enough so that he hadn't gone to her house
like she'd asked him to or even called to see if Dawn was all right.
That really bugged her, that for all his whining about being her
protector, he couldn't be bothered to check in and make sure she'd come
back okay. Too busy nursing his stupid wounded ego. And what could she
do? The simple fact was, these adversaries were human and Spike
couldn't fight humans. She knew he took protecting Dawn seriously.
He'd promised her he would protect Dawn "till the end of the world," so
to be prevented from helping at such a crucial moment must have really
stung. But surely he must realize that there's nothing he could do
against a human foe. If he were really serious about wanting to protect
Dawn then he shouldn't let his stupid ego get in the way. That was
Spike, though. Can't live with him, can't stake him.
Buffy arrived at the shop and headed straight back to the training room,
stopping only briefly to wave hello to Anya. At this hour Tara and
Willow would be in class, Xander at work, and Spike probably still
asleep so she wouldn't be able to get with them to discuss a plan of
action right away. Instead she could lose herself in a little one-on-one with a punching bag.
Three hours later, she emerged, hot and sweaty, her muscles aching
almost pleasantly. She flopped down onto the armchair that was pushed
back in the corner behind their conference table under the loft, and
drank water from a sports bottle. Anya was busy in the far corner with
a customer, but otherwise the shop was nearly deserted. She could
probably go home and grab a shower and still get back before everyone
else was free, she mused, but right now she was too tired to move so she
stayed in the armchair and drank her water. As she sat, she saw the
basement door on the other side of the store open up and Spike emerge.
Carefully avoiding the sunlight filtering in through the windows, he
strolled across the store toward the counter, then stopped when he
spotted Buffy.
"Hello, Slayer," he said, his voice a little petulant.
Just great. Still pissed. "Hey Spike," she replied. "You didn't come
by the house last night."
"No, I didn't," he agreed. "Went patrolling."
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had better things to do than check and
see if Dawn was, you know, still among the living," she said peevishly.
He gave her a small sneer. "I knew you got little bit tucked in all
safe and sound."
"Well, we almost didn't, you know."
This got him. He dropped the surliness and his expression became more
serious. "I know. They-- they were gonna take our memories too,
weren't they?"
This surprised Buffy. "You felt it too?"
"Yeah. I couldn't remember her. For a few minutes I couldn't remember
why I wanted to go with you. And then I remembered her again. So I
figured you caught 'em mid-mojo and got her out just in the nick of
time."
Buffy nodded, shuddering.
"You always do," He added, then came and sat down on a chair across from
her. "You kill the blighters?"
She shook her head. "You know I can't kill humans unless I absolutely
have to."
"Then they'll be back, won't they." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah, they probably will be."
"So what now?"
"We protect her and figure out how to stop them."
"I can help," he said.
"I know you can, Spike. But not in the way you want to. You can't
fight them."
He paused for a long time, then grimaced slightly. "No, I can't. But
I'm not exactly helpless, now am I?"
"I never said you were helpless."
"Then don't toss me aside like a bloody lap dog who's occasionally
entertaining but isn't up to the real work! I'm not your trained pet,
love. Best remember that."
"God Spike, this is so *not* about you!" Buffy exploded, getting a few
odd glances from the customers who were in the shop. "It's about
*Dawn.*"
"You think I don't know that?" he said hotly. "It's *all* about Dawn,
now innit? And my promise to *you* that I'd protect her."
"Which you couldn't do in this case!"
"Bollocks!"
"Spike--" Buffy started, thoroughly exasperated, but she was cut off by
Anya who had rushed over to them from the counter.
"You're scaring away the customers and their nice money. Go have your
little fight somewhere else."
"No need, I'm done here," Spike muttered, then rose quickly and strode
back across the shop toward the basement door.
Buffy watched him go then flopped back into her seat, frustrated. It
was shaping up to be a *lovely* day.
----------
Brother Ondrih stood before Brother Josef in the living quarters of the
otherwise empty church. Brother Josef had just returned from cleansing
himself from the Witches' magic. Brother Viktor had also spent last
night cleansing himself and was now engaged in his noon devotions,
hoping his special gift would give them some insight into dealing with
the heretic Slayer.
"I had hoped it would not come to this," he told Josef. "I had hoped
that the Slayer would understand that she serves the Light and that the
one she thinks of as her sister is an abomination, a thing of the Dark.
However, she has been tainted and is determined to fight us. The False
One now knows the truth, that the return of the Key to its proper form
can only mean her destruction. Therefore she will no longer be a
willing participant." He regarded his fellow anchorite carefully. "I
do not wish to taint God's work with the secular, but we will not
prevail alone. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Brother," Josef replied solemnly.
"Good. Contact the mercenaries. And send for Brother Viktor."
Josef bowed his head then left the room to complete his task. Very
soon, Brother Viktor entered. He looked quite pleased and Brother
Ondrih smiled.
"Brother Viktor, I see by your expression that God has favored you with
a vision."
"Yes, Brother Ondrih," Viktor replied. "I have seen how we may distract
the Slayer."
"Very good. What must we do?"
"God has brought two of the Slayer's long-time nemeses here together to
serve his purpose. One is a human and one a demon. One hides from her
in the shadows while the other in plain sight. We reveal these foes to
her and she will be drawn into battle, thus her attention diverted from
the Key."
"Excellent!" Brother Ondrih exclaimed. "And you know how to reveal
these foes to her?"
Brother Viktor nodded. "We merely need reveal one and he will reveal
the other."
----------
Ethan Rayne smiled to himself as he gathered the last of the components
necessary for the summoning ritual. It had taken him the better part of
three days since he'd received the ritual from the vampire, if only
because the single decent place to find magic supplies was Rupert's
store, which obviously he couldn't patron. But now he was finally
ready. In less than an hour, Palawgi would be petitioned, devotions
would be made, and then for seventy-two marvelous hours he could be
anyone he wanted to be. Of course, the fact that he was choosing the
most ridiculously stuffed-shirt pillock to be for those hours dampened
the enthusiasm somewhat. Three days as Rupert Giles! Could anything be
more exceedingly dull? Ah, but the things he would do as Rupert. The Ripper would rise again! And with the real Giles in complete isolation
on one of those inane Watcher retreats, no one would be able to prove
that he was in England instead of Sunnydale. Especially since Palawgi's
deceptions came complete with the correct fingerprints. He wondered how
long it would take England to extradite him.
It was such fitting retribution, too. Because of Rupert and the Slayer
being such spoilsports over his silly little prank in turning the prat
into a Fyarl demon, he'd spent about a year in a U.S. military detention
center in the middle of the godforsaken dessert in Nevada, then been
deported back to England. It had taken him another year -- more,
actually -- to get the counterfeit documents needed to get him back into
the U.S. Of course in the meantime, Rupert had returned home to
England, but what Ethan really wanted from him, to take away from him,
was still here in Sunnydale. Ethan wanted pain and humiliation for the
Slayer. At her former Watcher's hands.
So far, everything had come together remarkably well. He'd been
delighted to find that the storefront where he'd once operated a costume
shop was vacant and he was able to get it for very little rent by
casting a spell on the landlady. It was the perfect location: close to
Rupert's magic shop and as long as he was careful about avoiding the
Slayer and her dimwitted companions he could both prepare for the
summoning ritual and also observe their routines. An added bonus had
been the discovery of the vampire, William the Bloody, or "Spike" as he
liked to call himself. Oh he was a bloody genius, that one. Chipped by
the very same military buggers who had hauled Ethan off to Nevada, the
vampire had not only been the one who'd helped Rupert find him in the
Fyarl demon affair, he was actually living in Rupert's store and helped
the Slayer kill demons on the side. It was the most ridiculous story he'd heard since the one about the vampire with a soul. Different
vampire, Ethan had verified -- that one was living in L.A. and working
as, of all things, a detective. God, he loved California. Delicious
twist aside, this Spike had helped land Ethan in Nevada and he must be
dealt with as well. Not to mention that his presence at the Magic Box
interfered with Ethan retrieving the necessary summoning spell. How
convenient it was that he could kill both proverbial birds with one de-chipping stone. Have the idiot vampire do all the work finding the
ritual, re-fang the poor bastard, and then once he assumed Rupert's
identity, tattle on him to the Slayer. He'd be dust before sunset.
As predicted, the simp had balked at first, like an animal that had been
caged so long he refused to leave when his pen was thrown open. But
he'd come 'round much quicker than Ethan had dared hope -- a mere two
days later and they were in Ethan's cheap motel doing the spell. Of
course he'd gotten a bloody nose for his trouble, but what did that
matter once William met his dusty end. Oh, this was going to be *fun,*
seventy-two hours as Rupert Giles notwithstanding.
Quickly Ethan arranged all the items in a formation around the back room
of his former costume shop. The very place where he'd paid tribute to
Janus would be where he would call Palawgi forth.
When everything was arranged, Ethan pulled on a dark robe and knelt on
the floor and waved around a censer full of pungent incense. Following
the ancient instructions the vampire had brought him, he began the
ritual. He read the long Latin text fluidly, then finished the
supplication in English: "Palawgi, thou deceiver, thou Master of
artifice. Thou delightest in the sufferings of the innocent, in the
victims of your wiles. Come forth, o Trickster, and render me thy
willing vessel."
Looking up, he waited.
And waited.
Nothing.
"Palawgi, thou deceiver, thou Master of artifice. Thou delightest in
the sufferings of the innocent, in the victims of your wiles. Come
forth, o Trickster, and render me thy willing vessel," he repeated.
Again, nothing. Then it hit him.
"BUGGER ALL!" He stood up and threw the censer against the wall. "The
sodding vampire *tricked* me!" He grabbed the sheets of paper with the
spell on them and examined them more closely. Sure enough, when he
really looked at it, he could see that the script wasn't nearly as old
as he'd thought. The ink looked fresh. Furious, he tore the sheets to
pieces.
Well that was just bloody magnificent! Now he had no Palawgi ritual,
which meant no Palawgi, which meant no replacing Rupert, which meant no
revenge. How the bloody hell was he supposed to get that ritual now?
And he only had a few more days, too. Rupert would finish his retreat
and return home, thereby giving himself an alibi for anything Ethan
might do in his stead in Sunnydale.
Pacing the expanse of the floor, he tried to think. A temporary
setback, nothing more. Surely there was a way to get that spell and pay
back that vampire wanker for swindling him. Not necessarily in that
order.
Ethan stopped pacing. Yes, that was it. Get rid of the vampire
*first,* and then the summoning ritual would be easily accessible. Yes,
that was exactly what he needed to do.
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