chapter 19, stay – part III

Giles folded his six-foot frame into the driver’s seat of his 1999 red Mazda Miata convertible and gripped the steering wheel tight. It had taken him six hours to get as far as the car, and still the anguish of uncertainty clogged his pores. Could his plan work? Was it the only choice? Wasn't there something else they could do to save the girls? He let the air out of his lungs slowly. He mustn't allow doubt to stop him, especially now that he was sitting inside the car. He had to get this done. No matter how implausible his plan might be, he had to try.

He slammed the door shut and glared at the wheel.

Put the key in the ignition, turn on the engine, press down on the gas and drive.

He looked up and saw Xander stumbling toward him and released the wheel. He couldn't leave without the boy.

Xander had saved him from Luke's thrall. He'd been the one to relieve his mind-numbing pain after the portal jumper had visited him in his nightmare. He'd followed Giles' instructions explicitly and had recited all the right passages at all the right times. Then the boy had waited patiently for Giles to suss out what they needed to do next.

It wasn't Xander's fault that Giles couldn't envision him as a savior. A Watcher looked to his Slayer to play that part. Giles had rarely considered the possibility that anyone other than Buffy could resolve their dilemmas. He certainly had never considered Xander. But so much had changed since the thought spell. He and Willow had unleashed hell upon Earth, literally, but when Giles got his mind back in working order, he had to accept reality.

Xander was the one.

Giles dropped his hands into his lap and closed his eyes. In all the years he'd known Xander, they'd never shared anything, except for a mutual dislike of vampires, in particular Angel and Spike. He’d considered Xander as mostly comic relief, and oftentimes, annoyingly so.

Giles pushed his glasses up on his nose and watched the hulk of a boy lumber toward his car.

“So, this is an Apocalypse, huh, Watcher?” Xander opened the car door and dropped into the passenger's seat.

“What would you expect when a devil and his wife fight?”

Giles cocked his head at Xander, surprised and somewhat impressed. Xander had been listening. It hadn’t appeared that way when Giles had launched into his lecture more than six hours earlier. Xander’s drooping eyelids, slouched shoulders and lazy nods kept Giles wondering as to how much of what he was saying was reaching Xander’s brain.

Giles had flipped through page after page of the Zy Qasdor, volumes one through six in numerical order, extrapolating on the laws of the earliest demon societies and the original coven of witches. He’d explained how the thought spell had given Willow access to the powers of the First Witch and that the place where Giles and Buffy had encountered the First Slayer would be the right spot for them to find her, or more likely, for her to find them.

Privately, Giles hoped that she had more Glenda in her than Wicked Witch of the West. But whatever he and Xander had to face, the First Witch was key. Willow needed more power and she could give her that.

So, we’re off to see the First Witch. Giles refrained from humming the tune to “The Wizard of Oz”, even as it buzzed about in his head.

“Not the best idea I’ve heard today,” Xander was saying. “I mean Willow seemed to have plenty of power the last time I saw her. But if it’s all we’ve got…”

“It is.” Giles raised an eyebrow above the rim of his spectacles for emphasis.

“I just wish you were the one who had to wander around in the desert, searching for Witch numero uno,” said Xander. “I’d be better at bong shaking, hokey pokey dancing, or sitting cross-legged staring at a bonfire.”

“It has to be you.”

Xander shifted in his seat as Giles put the key into the ignition. “Don’t forget the elements of nature. Fire, water, and wind. And the witches, their justice is executed with words and plants from the Earth, never the sea.”

Xander pulled his knees to his chest as Giles revved the engine. “G-man, I’ll be okay. Seriously, I’ve got it.”

“We’ll have only one chance. Do you understand?”

Xander cracked the knuckles of his left hand with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. He then adjusted his legs, straightening them as much as he could in the small space behind the dashboard.

“No, I don’t really understand.” Giles felt Xander’s eyes on his face. “But I do know we’ve got to do it. I just wish Buffy...well, I wish she could slay Shemhazi so we could get off this roller coaster ride. It ain't fun no more. ”

“She can’t.”

“Why?" Xander's eyes narrowed. "Maybe she could smash in his head with a mace or mallet or something big, heavy and medieval.”

“Buffy can’t slay one of God’s angels even if he is a devil. I told you only Willow can deal with Shemhazi, and that’s why we’re going to the desert.”

Xander rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Okay, I get the deal with the First Witch and Shemhazi and Willow, I guess. But what about the portal jumper? Can Buffy at least fight him?”

Giles revved the engine and backed the the car out of the driveway. Then he turned right toward Main Street and the Magic Box. "Spike will deal with the portal jumper."

“Spike?” Xander frowned. "What the hell does Spike have to do with the portal jumper?"

Giles swerved the car into a far right lane as he spotted the sign for Interstate 10. He wasn't going to answer Xander's question, he decided as he sped toward the desert. How could he explain, that when his brain was mush, he’d somehow figured out that Spike had to battle Luke. Only a vampire, a very special vampire, had a chance against the portal jumper. Giles had counted on Spike becoming that vampire. All he needed was to remember how much he cared about Dawn and how much he claimed to love Buffy.

If Spike didn't remember, Giles had played a horribly wrong hand in sending him to New York.

The Watcher's eyes locked on the road as he pushed the accelerator to the floor.


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Buffy had taken off her navy blue raincoat, red pullover sweater and black boots, and was sitting in the middle of the road in her jeans and t-shirt opposite Spike. She felt all hot and sticky as rivulets of sweat ran down her back. The sun was beating down on her skin, scorching her face, while the giant black forest on either side of the road refused to offer one inch of shade. How in the world could this world be separated so perfectly into two halves, she wondered? No dusky gray or mixed shadows of light and dark overlapping. Just black or white, day or night.

Squinting, Buffy looked from the darkness to Spike’s sunbathed face. She'd never studied his features in the daylight. Never studied them in the dark. Well, maybe once or twice. But seeing him this way, his skin flushed, perspiration dotting his face, his eyes brilliantly blue and sparkling through the dark, thick lashes that hooded them. He looked amazing.

“You are quite lovely, pet.”

Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. What could she say to him? He'd turned into a standing in the daylight, breathing, because he really needed to, vampire. She hadn’t been able to speak since she'd shooed Dawn and Carlo off in search of food and water. She glanced at the black fruit hanging from the bushes in the Night Worlds—that’s what Carlo had named the woods—they hadn't been ready to eat black food. So, she'd okayed a search for green, red or orange eatables, because she was hungry, but mostly because she needed time to stare at Spike.

She hadn't asked him if he was hungry. You didn't throw out a question like that to a vampire as he sat in the sunlight looking thirsty.

Buffy pulled damp strands of hair away from her eyes. She didn't want to think about Spike and nourishment anyway.

"Thanks," she finally managed, but he'd stopped looking at her and was staring at the sun.

She had a million questions to ask him, but couldn't get her lips to move again. He'd caught her off-guard with the you are lovely, pet line. Or more truthfully, every minute of the past hour had caught her off guard. Alleys and demons, Buffy was used to. Willow being super-power witch girl she could get used to, but Spike being human or whatever more he'd become other than a vampire—well, that was difficult to take in.

Her brain had been thrown into a tizzy. She had tizzy brain. Silly thought, but tizzy-brain, nonetheless. He had to be the same Spike, right? Despite the fact she’d seen him take a bite out of Dawn with her own eyes, he was still Spike. Besides he'd explained about the biting. Well, actually, he hadn’t really. All he’d said was that if he’d wanted to kill her, he would have.

She and Dawn had believed him. Carlo, on the other hand, had wanted to go a few rounds with Spike—which Buffy wouldn't allow. One round and Spike would have been declared undisputed champion. No point in letting that happen to Dawn's boyfriend. Carlo needed to cool off. He’d lost his mother and had accused Spike of killing her. Best strategy was break up the foursome. Send Dawn and Carlo to find food. Stay on the lit road, she'd instructed them.

"Spike, can you see far?" She sighed, grateful she could squeak out these few words.

Since he was sunshine vampire now, she thought maybe his acute night vision had turned into really good daylight vision. He could help her keep tabs on Dawn and Carlo.

"Nothing but sunshine, love. Everywhere I look." He smiled at her.

"Spike, I don't get you." She stood up. "You're all different, yet you seem really calm and relaxed as if this is no big deal."

"What else can I do?"

He moved blazingly fast and was suddenly standing next to her. No longer sitting in the middle of the dirt road, but breathing inches away from her face. It made the nerves in her stomach tingle and her hands shake.

"Imagine we're stuck her until Dawn can figure out how to get us out." Spike tilted his head toward the sky and stared at the sun without blinking. "You know, a little while ago, I stopped being your every day vampire and became your...well...let's say, an every day vampire.”

As she listened to his words, she kept thinking about how the sunshine on his face must feel to him. After so many decades in the dark, it had to feel like heaven, she decided. A beautiful shining gift from the powers that be.

“I'm trying to deal with a few things here, sweetheart. Changes, major changes."

His voice sounded far away and his eyes looked glazed. He lowered his chin and she gulped as she felt the heat from his stare on her skin. He wasn't touching her, but she thought she saw his eyes flash...red?

Yellow must be out now that he could breathe.

He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them tight.

“Let me go.” Buffy hoped her voice hadn't sounded small and frightened as she glanced at her arms and at his fingers wrapped around her bare skin. She was having trouble catching her breath. She hadn't imagined his touch would be so warm. So human. Her body trembled and she tried to pull away, but he held her still. He was stronger than he'd been.

Don't panic, she told herself. Stay clam and don't be afraid of the evil vampire. You can get away from him if you want. He won't hurt you. She gulped as his hard, wet body pressed against hers. The pep talk wasn't working. Her chest heaved rapidly in and out. She was hot, too hot.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Buffy," he whispered.

Her sweat-soaked t-shirt was sticking to his bare chest.

“Spike, what happened to you?”

“I can feel your heart beating. Your blood flowing through your body, like I always could. But now, I can feel me, too.”

He let go of her left shoulder and took her hand into his and pressed it to his chest. “Can you feel my heart beating?”

“Yes, Spike.”

He pulled her close and leaned his forehead against hers.

“I’m afraid that when this is over, I won’t want to live in the dark, love.”

She could feel his warm breath on her lips.

“I won’t want to be just a vampire.”

“Spike…” Buffy felt her knees buckle, but he had her and hugged her to him. He wouldn't let her fall.

Then she felt his tongue and lips tracing a slow, wet trail along the side of her neck. He pressed his mouth against her cheek lightly and then kissed her eyelids. He moved his lips to her mouth, and his tongue sought her tongue, and she opened her mouth and let him pull her into his mouth. She relaxed her body against his, the urgency of his touch fueling her own desire. She groaned. He tasted so good, like sea water, warm and salty, and clean.


to be continued…