Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.

SECTION 5 - LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

He raised his son in the English way
And he taught him respect, he taught him how to pray
He sent him off to boarding school
Where he learned how to live by someone else's rules...

... It must be something much deeper than fear or pain
Another child learns the pattern, he won't break the chain

Fear of God and the feel of the rod will raise a good boy
The fear of God and the feel of the rod will raise a good boy
The fear of God and the feel of the rod will raise the next boy


(Rick Springfield Album - Living in Oz)




Chapter 5.09
Saturday, June 15th, 2002


"Buffy?" Giles imbued the slayer's name not only with curiosity as to whether she was going to go after the errant potential but also just a touch of reproof.

The blonde cast imploring glances first toward Spike and then at her older watcher before she sighed her reluctant acquiescence. "I know . She's one of mine... but I so suck at the talky thing." Reluctantly, she drew apart from her fiancé and broke into a half-hearted jog that soon became an all out run. "I can't believe I asked to have that one in my group," she muttered under her breath as she departed.

Spike delayed just a few more moments, walking backwards as he spoke, until he could bear it no longer and took off after his girl. "Lil, Clem, Catwoman..." He gave Ha Nath a cheeky grin. "Sorry, guys. I guess we should've prepared a bit better for that. Niblet an' her mate there'll get you settled in, bring you a cuppa or a beer, an' the dark slayer can fill you in on where the bad guys are hidin' out. I'll just go lend a hand in case the daft bint runs straight toward them and the missus loses her trail. Human sense of smell's not worth crap."

---

He caught up with her in the kitchen as she vacillated between the stairs leading upward and the back door. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her after him as he followed the scent of expensive perfume into the stairwell. At the first landing he hesitated briefly but continued upward. At every possible junction he repeated the process, a puzzled frown settling on his face when he realised that the only possible place she could be was in the attic, the attic occupied by Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies.

"Maybe she thought it was the last place we'd look?" the slayer suggested.

Spike gave a noncommittal grunt and slowed his pace. After all, unless the potential wanted to test her climbing skills, there was no way she could escape without going past them both. Instinctively, he switched to stalking mode, placing each foot carefully, avoiding runners he remembered as being squeaky, and when his reply came, it was little more than whispered breath. "We were between her an' the room where all her gear is. I'd put my money on either blind panic or the fact she doesn't know that everyone as might be up here is actually gettin' set up for the meetin' an' she's hopin' to find someone as she can hide behind."

As they silently made their way along the corridor that separated the two sides of the loft space, the vampire nodded toward the door of Bee and Tara's room where it sat slightly ajar. With a fingertip, the vamp eased the door open a few more inches until, in the darkness, he could see the potential hunched miserably on the witch's bed, her arms clasped around the Wiccan's pillow.

He pushed harder, and the door opened wide with a creak, giving the girl a chance to throw the pillow back to the head of the bed before he clicked the light switch, illuminating the small room.

"She's not here..." The vampire's voice was surprisingly gentle as he sauntered into the room, allowing Buffy to move into the doorway. "An' even if she was, she'd tell you no different from the rest of us."

"I wasn't-."

"Pet, I could smell your perfume on her earlier today, an' as her friend, I'm tellin' you now, she isn't yer way in... An' bugger me if I'm not startin' to sound like the bloody watcher, 'cept not quite so self-righteous."

"I don't know-."

"You know right well. What you might not realise is that I grew up 'round people like you. Pretty little dolls... Yeah, you're popular, an' you've got everythin' money can buy. You're used to bein' the centre of attention, bein' the one who gets to decide who's in, who's out, whose life you'll turn into a livin' hell just because you think they're beneath you."

"I'm not-."

"Just listen, princess... It's a pretty lonely life up there in your little ivory tower, an' all that power you have over all your little sycophants, it's all hollow. Even if you'd never set foot in Sunnydale, sooner or later it would have palled, an' you'd have had to find something else to fill the vacuum. Maybe you won't end up as a vengeance demon like some as I've known, but then you've got more than money goin' for you, right? The problem here is no one cares about your money. They look at you an' they see a spoiled little bitch... an' a potential slayer might be a rare beast, but when there's a couple of hundred of them runnin' round an' almost all of 'em are younger an' a damn sight more likely to be next in line to the title, it's gotta be pretty hard to take.

How long's it been, huh? How long since the council first showed up on your doorstep tellin' you that you had this great destiny? This duty to smite all things demon? Three years? Four? Five?"

"Five. Not that it's any of your business," the potential answered with a glower in his direction.

Spike sighed, refusing to be baited. "A quarter of your life... A quarter of your life, an' in a day we're askin' you to forget everythin' that you've been told. For the first time in your life you're bein' treated like you're nothin' special. Point of fact, you're bein' treated like you're some sort of criminal... an' for doin' exactly what you've been told for the last five years is what you were born to do.

Hell, I sure wouldn't want to go down there cap in hand an' apologise. I wouldn't want to admit that the only thing that made me anythin' more than a spoiled little brat with a silver spoon in my mouth was a lie... even when I look at Rosa an' see the way she loves her Uncle Clem an' her grandma. I wouldn't admit that just the very fact she exists, the fact her mum lived with her dad for years up until he was murdered an' that they loved each other enough to have a gorgeous little kid like that... I wouldn't want to admit that maybe it proves that demons aren't all bad. I'd kick an' scream an' tell m'self that her dad must have used some mind trick on Marie, same way I must have the slayer here in thrall."

Somewhere in the midst of the vampire's words Kennedy began to find that she had a problem meeting his gaze, her defiance mingling with just a hint of uncertainty, but he wasn't finished yet.

"I'd try an' get back the life I had. I'd try an' get myself in where the power is. Yeah, I'd look around at them as are where I wanted to be an' work out who'd be most like to fall for my charms, what little I have seein' as how up to now I've never had to be anythin' other than rich to get what I want. I'd work out who I wouldn't need to compete with all them other S.I.T.s to impress, an' who has the power... And you did, didn't you, princess?"

Spike crouched in front of the girl and brought his fist up under her chin until she looked him in the eye. "The little Wicca might not realise that she's got more power than any slayer, but you did. An' you realised that, if there's one person whose opinion we all trust, it's hers, an' you worked out how to get your foot in the door. What you didn't work out is that it's goin' to be a long time before our wise little owl is ready to play on that merry-go-round again, an' if you hurt her, if you so much as pester her, then I will do what any big brother would do an' so will Harris for what help he'd be... an' Giles will do what any father would do an' we'll make sure one way or another that she gets the time she needs to grieve without you interferin'. Are you clear on that?"

"That's not how it was. I really like her."

"Princess, you don't know her well enough to like her. Now, are we clear?" Fear and defiance warred in the trainee's eyes before, in the face of Spike's unfaltering scepticism, she nodded her head.

"Not sayin' that if Tinkerbell were to come onto you... which she won't... not unless you hang around for a coupla years an' have a personality transplant, but I'm not sayin' you couldn't take her up on it if she offered, just that she needs space until she's ready. Understand?"

"Yes," Kennedy snapped petulantly. "But it wasn't like that..."

"Pet, you're showin' yourself up. If you knew the witch well enough to like her for her, then you'd know it'll take more than a sensation seeker with a pierced tongue to impress her. You'd know the lass has a talent for reading auras, an' I just don't think yours would match up to the story you'd try an' sell her. But, unless we hear that you've been makin' a nuisance of yourself we'll consider that little matter closed, ok?

Now, as for the other thing, you do understand that the slayer isn't under any thrall an' neither was Marie? 'Less 'n' y'count fallin' head over heels for a guy as makes you the centre his whole life revolves around."

"Modest, aren't you?" the potential muttered even though she nodded her comprehension.

"He just knows the score..." Buffy shifted from the doorway to kneel beside Spike on the floor. "Two years into this gig I remember begging Giles to lie to me," she told the woman. "I was just beginning to realise that it wasn't all black and white, and it made everything hard. I wanted so much to believe what I'd been taught. Demons bad. Humans good. No exceptions, no questions, no middle ground... no recriminations, no wondering if maybe somewhere I'd killed someone that didn't deserve it. So he lied to me, and it made it all seem better for a second or two... but neither of us believed it any more.

You have something I didn't have... a chance to start out knowing the facts, a chance to clear your conscience. Clem's down there and aside from a bit of bruising, physically, he's fine.

He needs you to apologise. He needs to know he doesn't need to be afraid any more, that he doesn't need an escort to the grocery store, that he can take his girl to the movies."

"You made a mistake, pet. Weren't even your fault, really, considerin' what them watchers try to teach yer but, if you ever do want to be more than just some spoiled brat, then you've gotta suck it up, admit you were wrong an' make amends."

"Fine!" The potential pushed herself up off the bed and began to stomp her way downstairs. On the surface, she looked like nothing more than an older version of Dawn at her least appealing. Spike, however, caught the pensive look in her eye and was fairly certain that his words had found their mark, with some considerable help from Rosa and her family. She just needed some space to think it all through and come to terms with it before the next hurdle.

He shouted after her. "You can grab yourself a cuppa or summat if you want a few minutes to get that pet lip under control before you make your apologies, but the longer you take the more you miss about what's goin' on, an' you an' Amanda are meant to be there so that the Amazon army get some sort of say."

Buffy stood and reached out a hand to help the vampire up, correctly surmising that, after crouching so long on his heels, his legs would have stiffened up slightly. "Thanks. Really so not good with the talky bits... not that you don't still kinda need to work on those mixed metaphors... Owls on merry-go-rounds? ...but, I kinda chipped in at the end. I just wouldn't have patience with her like you had."

"Like I have patience with her? I can't stand the bitch. Just used a bit of charm to get what I wanted."

"But you-. It was like you understood her, like you knew exactly what she was thinking."

"Like I said, I grew up around folks like that. I know how their brains work. It was torture then, an' it's not a bundle of laughs now. If there was just me an' her to think about I'd have bawled her out good an' proper, but I owe it to Lil an' Clem an' the rest of them to see that they get treated right... even if that means talkin' slow an' loud, or soft an' gentle, until some stuck-up bitch sees what's been in front of her face all along."

Buffy reached up, her fingers tangling in the short curls at the side of his head and then pushing their way through the gelled strands until she cradled the back of his skull, drawing his lips down to hers. The open-mouthed caress lasted for a minute or so, neither wanting to deepen it, nor feeling the need to let passion overcome the simple adoration that flowed from the slayer's skin only to be returned to her in equal measure in the vampire's touch. She drew back and placed one last peck on his lips, and when she spoke it took Spike a second to realise she was responding to his last comment. "Well, it's not like you haven't had practice..."

---

Oz stepped up to the drawing room doorway as Dawn and Amanda made to usher their visitors through it before the teens left to fetch the drinks Spike had offered. Ducking to one side, as Lily led the way into the room, the werewolf caught Wes's eyes with an obvious deliberation before looking into a corner of the room that was out of line of sight from the guests' angle of approach.

"He showed up five minutes ago."

The watcher raised his eyes heavenward as he joined Oz where he could see into the room, not really surprised that his father had chosen to attend the meeting despite being unwanted and uninvited. He held tight to Marie's hand, effectively preventing her from entering without him until he had assessed the situation. Tara had taken the nearest of several armchairs arrayed along the wall to the right of the retired watcher's settee and seemed to be trying to make polite conversation, even if the elder Wyndam Pryce was apparently undecided whether to reciprocate with equal courtesy or chilly contempt.

As Wes wondered whether he would do better to take the other half of the sofa, where he could keep an eye on his father, or whether he should see to it that the old man was kept as far from Marie and Rosa as possible, Lily settled herself right in, even asking the watcher to move along so that she could more easily talk to the Wiccan. The look of shock on his father's face was comical, and Wes had to smother a smile as Lily managed to manoeuvre him into shaking hands and being introduced to Clem and Ha Nath, who then proceeded to perch on the sofa's arms, Clem next to his mother and his girlfriend ably positioned to intervene should Wes's father attempt to cause any trouble.

Wes gave a wry smile and relaxed his grip. "I don't think we need to worry, Oz. The situation seems to be nicely under control. In fact..." The watcher's smile widened as Ha Nath leaned over to hear something Lily was saying, making his father shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying to ignore her PVC-encased bosom. "I just wish I had a camera."

---

"Wh-What sort of numbers are we talking about?" Wes asked as Faith wrapped up her report on the bringers and their location.

"Generation X reckoned that he saw at least half a dozen different groups going in and out, anywhere between six and eight in each, but he was only there a couple of hours, and that truck they told us about was parked outside the whole time. Could be he saw nearly everyone coming back from whatever their equivalent of patrol is, or it could be that's a fraction of how many they've got there. No real way to know, but we still haven't seen the guy with the knife."

The watcher turned to Tara. "How are you at astral projection?"

Roger's snort was cut off as Ha Nath 'inadvertently' spilled some of the coffee Dawn and Amanda had served. The liquid flowed harmlessly over her outfit to splash on the watcher's sleeve to slightly more effect. Over the hushed apologies and search for a handkerchief, the witch replied.

"I've d-done it," the honey blonde admitted.

Wes seemed to hesitate before he spoke again but, seeing his father occupied with cleaning up the spillage he seemed to lose some of his nervousness. "We'll check with the council's spellcasters also, but I think unless research shows it to be an unacceptable risk then it's something we should consider before we launch any sort of ground attack. Giles?"

"We haven't come across anything so far to suggest exactly how The First gains the information that it does and while it cannot physically affect the world around it, it might be able to cause actual harm to an astral intruder. It could be risky... but not necessarily more so than trying to maintain a physical watch on the area. I'll let you know if we come across anything relevant in our research."

The door pushed open, and Buffy led Spike into the room and then perched on the arm of the last vacant armchair. Before Spike could even take the seat beside her, Rosa was tugging on his sleeve and once he was seated she climbed into his lap. Dawn and the S.I.T. had joined Brandon and Oz on what was nominally a three-seater settee to the left of where Ha Nath sat, Rogue choosing to sprawl across all of them, her initial dislike of the werewolf apparently long forgotten. Bee sat opposite them, in an armchair near to Tara's, the Siamese curled on her knee and Faith sitting on the chair arm. Another armchair to its right accommodated both Harrises, Anya choosing to sit on Xander's lap. Giles and Lydia shared another two-seater which rested against the same wall as the one Oz and the teenagers occupied, though they maintained a self-conscious six inches between them. The couch that Wes and Marie had until recently shared with Rosa closed off the end of the rectangle.

"I take it you tracked down our absentee?" Giles asked.

"She'll be through in a bit. Miss much?"

"We were discussing the situation at the vineyard," Wes answered. "How would you rate our chances if we chose to attack?"

Spike shrugged and looked first at Lydia and then at Roger Wyndam Pryce. "Sendin' the bints in without more trainin' would be a farce, even if there's only the blind mice we've actually seen. The chits are mostly green as fledges straight out the muck an' not even as strong. No more than half a dozen of them ready for a proper fight from what the slayers reckon. Might get away with it dependin' how many of your nasty boys you've brought on holiday, assuming they're not all as incompetent as the ones that went after Slayer Number Two and Angel Arse."

"The council's operatives are perfectly capable," Roger blustered.

The briefest of looks passed between Spike and the girl on his knee before the vampire retorted, "Like hell they are!"

"In any case, they were left behind to act as guards for those watchers whose duties dictated that they stay in England or who were too ill to travel," Lydia explained.

"For now, let's assume we're working with the forces we have here." Wes cut to the heart of the matter. "Assume we're going to have to deal with this on our own. What's the layout, Spike?"

"Far as I could tell, there's just one door in, an' the walls are solid. Considerin' what it was built as, there's like to be rooms underground. Figure some of your smart arses should be able to find some sort of building plans but the fact is the bad guys could have the place booby trapped to high heaven or they could have a wine cellar full of Turok Han an' you wouldn't know till you walked in.

If jailbird'll pull the home shift for tonight, me an' She'll check out the tunnels 'round that end of town. See if they've got-."

Three firm knocks drew everyone's attention.

"...A back door we can find."

James leaned into the room. "There's just been a call from the hospital. One of the potentials we've been expecting, the one flying in from Chicago... They must have got to them at some point on the drive from LA. The doctors say that she's been attacked and badly wounded and her watcher wasn't picked up with her. She says she needs to see Buffy." His eyes met those of the blonde slayer. "I don't think they're expecting her to hold out much longer."