Chapter 02


’all the late night bargains have been struck
between the satin beaus and their belles’
- “your latest trick” by dire straits


Buffy leaned her head against the cool window of the van when they hit the road. Headquarters was only twenty minutes away from the Kaileq’s former hideout but the ride still seemed like an eternity.

Questions upon questions had already started piling up inside her head, and the more she tried to think of possible answers, the more questions popped up.

She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She never had been, and she had no problem admitting it. She didn’t have the book smarts. Her intelligence was that of a fighter, of a warrior, of a Slayer in the strictest sense.

In her almost twenty year “career” she’d come across a lot of stuff, a LOT of stuff. Prophecies, myths, artifacts with all sorts of power. She’s died twice, once brought back by CPR, once by magic. Even if her death hadn’t been final, she’d always believed that a pile of ash at the bottom of a gigantic crater was the end for a vampire. It had been for a couple of hundred ubervamps back in the days.

Which brought the big honking question back to mind.

How did Spike come back from the dead?


*

The car pulled into the parking garage of the old boarding school.

The Slayer’s Council had collected a respectable amount of money over the last couple of years, the ‘how’ and ‘where’ unknown to Buffy. All she knew – and wanted to know – was that she and her branch of the Council now occupied an old boarding school.

It was a fairly convenient place to stay. Lots of rooms – more specifically bathrooms – for the girls, classrooms for theory classes and training room for, well, training. Sometimes this whole operation seemed like one big field trip but those were rare moments. Mostly, it was like this. Returning back to HQ with wounded Slayers, recounting the events, trying to figure out the greater scheme and whatnot.

When the car came to a halt, Buffy was the first to jump out, crossing the parking garage in brisk strides. She needed to speak to Giles ASAP. Taking the stairs three steps at a time, she made it to the third floor in less than half a minute.


*

She found Andrew in the computer central where he was hacking away at a laptop that showed a map of the city.

“Andrew, set me up a video feed with Giles.” The little guy turned towards her, his eyes wide. If a lot about him had changed over the years, his close-to-fear respect for Buffy was still a valuable asset.

“Buffy, you’re back. Hi. How did it go?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Perfect. Now set me up that video feed, please.”

“Sure, coming right up.” Andrew gave his chair a push, rolling it halfway across the room to another computer. “So, did the rescue squad arrive in time?”

“In the nick of, yeah. Is it possible to make this any faster?” Buffy shifted impatiently from one leg to the other, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“I’m working on it. There is still the time difference. He might not pick up.”

“He always picks up.”

“Why is so important? Did you learn anything interesting at Kaileq’s place?”

“You might say that.”

“Yeah, what is it?” he asked, shifting squeamishly on his chair.

Buffy eyed him suspiciously. Something wasn’t right. Andrew was always sort of twitchy but his behavior was more than… well, suspicious. And then something struck her that she hadn’t thought about before. Despite the fact that she still had to figure how it was possible to raise a dead vampire…How had Spike even known where she was? For all she knew he was still the same guy she’d seen going up in flames ten years ago sans any precognitive abilities.

“You know, don’t you?” she said. It wasn’t a question. “You know that Spike is back. You sent him after me with the back up.”

Andrew’s hands froze, hovering over the keyboard. He swallowed, the gulping sound almost echoing in the silence of the room. “Yeah? I… I might have.”

“What do you mean, you might have? You did do it, didn’t you? How long have you known?” Buffy stepped up him, leaning down on the table to get right into his face.

Andrew seemed to shrink on his chair. He became very pale. “I… ten… ten years.”

“What?”

In that moment, the computer in front of Andrew beeped and a window popped up, showing a sleep-deranged Giles in a plaid bathrobe.

“Good morning, Buffy. Andrew. What can I do for you?” Even at whatever time it was in London now, Giles remained as polite as always.

Buffy stepped back from Andrew who gave his chair another slight push to get away from the aggravated Slayer. “Spike is back. He has been for ten years. And Andrew knew about it.” She propped her hands on her hips, waiting for the Watcher’s answer. But Giles didn’t answer, and then she knew that he knew it as well.

“You, too? You knew it, too?” She stepped back from the monitor, her mind reeling. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Buffy, I understand that you are confused. But you have to understand…”

“Like hell I’m confused. If you knew, why didn’t you tell me?” Her voice started to shake with anger. Anger and disappointment.

“Because I told them not to.”

Buffy turned to see Spike leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, a worn, old duffel bag at his feet. His posture seemed casual but his face was (pardon the pun) dead serious.

“What?” She tried to say something more, tried to ask more questions, tried to get behind all this, but her throat started to close with something close to confused panic. She had never felt anything like this, not in the last ten years that is. Her mind tried to come up with a possible solution for all this but there was nothing. There was just big confused void inside her head. And she didn’t like that at all.

“Maybe the two of you should talk about this.” Andrew smiled almost sheepishly, twisting his chair from left to right and back again.

“We will. Later. First you gotta give the fellow a decent room to freshen up. Been one hell of ride.” Spike’s eyes never left Buffy who still stared at him in utter disbelief.

“Sure.” The little guy rose and pushed past the Slayer. “If you would excuse us. We have a nice vacant room in the fourth floor. Follow me, please.”

The vampire picked up his bag, and tossed it over his shoulder. Before he turned to follow Andrew, he gave Buffy a short, almost invisible nod. A smile all but made the corner of his mouth twitch. And then he left.


*

The hallway of the old boarding school reminded Spike of the place he’d gone to school as a kid. Dark wood on the walls, a marble floor worn down to a shiny gleam due to the dozens of feet walking over it day after day.

Not very pleasant memories at that, given that a little boy like he’d been – short, slim, and horribly short-sighted – was an excellent target for those who’d like to see what they got away with. A lot, as he’d figured out.

But those days were over now. They were long gone. Almost a hundred and fifty years gone.

Andrew tore him out of his thoughts when he stopped short in front of him, and Spike almost bumped into the Watcher-in-training.

“Watch it, will you?” he snapped, taking a step back.

“Sorry. This is yours.” Andrew pushed open a door to their right. “It’s got its own bathroom so you won’t run into any of the others.”

Spike smirked at him. “Not to worry. You’d be the last I’d ask to bend for the soap.” He pushed past Andrew into the little room.

It was nothing special. A single room with a bed beneath the window, a little spacey for it lacked a desk and a closet. A door to the left must have lead to the aforementioned bathroom.

“What are you going to tell her?” Andrew had stepped into the room as well, closing the door behind him.

Spike dropped his bag in the middle of the room, its contents giving a heavy thump. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. “The truth,” he said as if it was a suggestion. “There is nothing but the truth.”

“Why did you wait for so long? You could have come here sooner. We would’ve needed you around.”

“No, you didn’t. And if it wasn’t for Giles asking me to come here now, I’d still be down under.”

They both knew that he’d dodged the question. Although Andrew was one of the few people who knew about his return, he wasn’t exactly the guy Spike wanted to talk to about this.

A moment passed before Spike spoke again. “How has she been?”

A smile edged on Andrew’s lips. “She’s holding up. Things are getting rougher around here but you already know that.” He shrugged. “You really should talk to her.”

“I will,” he repeated, impatience and a little touch of anger in his voice. “It’s just… it’s not that simple.”

“You should have thought about that ten years ago. I don’t know what you’re going to tell her but… you should do it soon. It’s not going to get any easier.” The moment he’d said it, Andrew returned to his usual twitchy self. It was weird to see these spurts of confidence in him from time to time. “The kitchen is downstairs if you’re…,” his words trailed off when he realised that Spike wasn’t listening. “I’ll go get someone to find you some heavier curtains. The insurance doesn’t cover burning vampires in the rooms.” And with that, he left the vampire to himself.

Again, Spike took a deep if unneeded breath. What the hell was he supposed to do? He hadn’t told Buffy for a reason and now she demanded to know that reason. She had every right to, no doubt, but… but what? He had inflicted this on himself. He had had plenty of chances to let her know that he was back. But over the time it had gotten harder. Of course, ten years didn’t mean much by vampire standards but for her it was a whole different deal.

Now, he had screwed up like too many other things with her. He had to talk to her, and he had to do it soon. If the situation was as serious as Giles had told him, he wasn’t sure how much time they had. There was not enough time to make up for ten years, of course, but he had to try. It was all he had ever done, try. He had tried to be a poet, had tried to win Cecily’s heart, had tried to be Dru’s dark prince, had tried to be a better man for Buffy. All things he had failed to do. And now he was about to fail again.

There was a knock at the door and Spike flinched. He ran a hand over his face and swallowed. “Yeah,” he grunted, rougher than he had intended.

A young girl opened the door, poking her head in. She couldn’t be older than fifteen. “Mr Spike, Sir? Miss Rosenberg is expecting you in the conference room. She asked me to show you the way.”

Spike couldn’t help but smirk at the girl. “Cut the Mr and the Sir, and I’ll be down in a few. No need to take me down, I’ll find them.”

“As you wish, Sir.” Her face flushed crimson. “I mean… excuse me.” With that, she disappeared.

Apparently that was a thing that hadn’t changed about the young Slayers over the years. Some of them were confident, as though it was your average day job. And some were as scared as this young girl. The scared ones tended to survive longer because they weren’t foolish enough to throw themselves in harm’s way on every occasion.

Spike stripped out of his Kevlar vest and weapon holster, and tossed them on the bed, then shed the shirt in the same fashion. He pulled a grey-green sweater from his duffel bag, and headed for the bathroom.

He sprinkled some water on his face, rinsing the grime of the battle from his skin. It could have been worse but a horde of vampires always left one hell of a pile of dirt. There was no need to look up at the mirror, it wouldn’t tell him anything.

Before he went to look or rather smell for the conference room, he rummaged through his bag until he produced an old book stored in a Ziploc bag. His welcome gift for the witch.


*

Buffy sat at the head of the table, next to Willow who was typing away at her laptop. She had her feet tucked underneath her, nibbling on her bottom lip, twirling one strand of hair around her finger. Giles had filled her in about how Spike’s essence had been captured in the amulet and how it must have been set free somehow. But he wanted to get back to her on that.

A myriad of thoughts ran rampant through her head. She had hardly paid attention to what Giles had told her about Spike’s essence being trapped in the amulet and then set free again by Angel. He talked about all sorts of technicalities she didn’t care about. She cared more about why Spike hadn’t told her that he was back.

She had thought up each and every reason she could come up with. Even those which made sense to her didn’t satisfy her. She just didn’t understand. Andrew and Giles knew, and apparently Willow had learned about it tonight, too. Everybody knew except for her. Feeling betrayed didn’t even begin to cover it.

The group of Awakened Slayers that gathered around the table were all of the first generation. They had the most experience and expertise for what was about to come. Buffy felt as if each of them was eyeing her curiously, as if they all knew as well.

The door to the conference room was pushed open again and Spike appeared. He had changed and lost his armor. When he walked past the table, he hardly ever glanced at her.

“Heya Red,” he nodded towards Willow who looked up from her computer. “Brought you something you might wanna take a look at.” He held up an old volume in a Ziploc bag.

“Spike? Hi, it’s good to see you. You look good.” Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise when her friend rose and hugged the vampire. “Is this the book?”

“One and only.”

“Great, thank you. We can get started then. You mind taking a seat?”

“I’d rather stand.” He smiled but it hardly reached his eyes. Then, he retreated to a corner at the far end of the room where he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

Buffy’s eyes were fixed on him. Everything except the hair was the same and yet the… vibe that radiated off him seemed different. She hadn’t noticed it before but something about him was off. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Okay, everybody?” Willow began, sitting down at her computer again. “Thank you all for coming at this time. As most of you already know, things are going to get rough soon.”

The Slayer’s focus wandered back to her best friend. Whenever Willow held these speeches, she reminded her of Giles so much that it was scary. When the first world-wide confusion about the newly arisen Slayers had ebbed away, it had become clear pretty quickly that the witch would be the head of the new Slayer’s Council.

Although Buffy still felt like the leader of the pack, her role was a more executive one. Her work went hand in hand with Willow’s but she still did what she could do best: lead a bunch of kick-ass girls into the battle against evil.

“We still don’t know all the details but we thought we’d give you a head’s up about what is likely to happen.” She pressed a key on the keyboard; she probably could do the projection just with the force of her mind and magic but she was still sticking to good old technology. “Some of you have been investigating the Secte Noir.” A blurry black and white photograph appeared on the screen behind her, showing a group of people shrouded in black cloaks. “These people are bad. I mean, really bad. We’re still trying to figure out how they do it but we believe they are about to rise the Fates.”

A murmur went through the room. From the corner of her eyes, Buffy saw Spike shift from one leg to the other, adjusting his position. Did he seem squeamish? If the vampire was anything, he sure as hell wasn’t squeamish about anything. And was she the only one who hadn’t heard of the Fates yet?

“For those who have missed their Greek mythology class, I’ll give you a short run-down.”
Another button, another graphic. This time it was a family tree, a very detailed, very confusing family tree. “I won’t go into all the details,” Buffy all but sighed in relief, “but despite common belief, Zeus is not the father of all gods. It’s this whole deal about betrayal, eating their own children and all that stuff. Point is, that Zeus is a little further down the divine food chain. Anyway… nobody knows for sure but the Fates are believed to be Zeus’ daughters.” Yet another graphic, this time three robed ladies. “It doesn’t really matter where they are from but they are major bad news. These three ladies decide over… well, fate, really. One weaves the thread of life, the next measures it, and the last one cuts it whenever she thinks it’s about time.”

Willow cleared her throat. She must have noticed that some of the others – just like Buffy herself – were having problems paying attention.

“It’s not documented anywhere if the Fates are working freelance or if someone can actually control them. What we do know is that they’ve been dormant for a couple of millennia since people have started taking matters into their own hands. If our information about the Secte Noir is correct and they do try to awaken them… let’s just say, that’s not good.”

She picked up the book Spike had given her.

“With this, we might be able to confirm what we know and try to figure out a way to stop them.”

She pressed another button, and another graphic appeared, reading “Thank You!” in big bold letters.

“I know that’s not much yet but we thought it would be best to keep you to up to speed about what’s going on. Thanks for your attention.” She smiled her usual Willow-smile. “Class dismissed.”

The group broke apart, the girls breaking into animated talk about Fates, and gods, and Greek mythology. When Buffy looked over to where Spike had stood, he was gone.

Willow flipped her laptop shut, turning to her friend. “What’s wrong, Buffy?”

“You knew, too, didn’t you? That he was back?” she asked tonelessly.

“Andrew just briefed me in. I didn’t know until a few minutes ago.”

“Would you have told me?”

“If I had known? Sure. You’re my best friend, Buffy.”

The Slayer snorted. “He asked Giles and Andrew not to tell me that he was back. He’s been around for ten years and nobody told me. For all I know he could have been in this city and I wouldn’t have known. I just…I just don’t understand, Will. Why would he do that?”

The red head laid a hand on Buffy’s arm. “I’m sure he had a good reason. He loves you, remember?”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that one.” With that, she rose and left the room.


***