Chapter in two parts due to length

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Chapter 5
A/N “Checkpoint” (written by Jane Espenson and Doug Petrie); “Blood Ties” (written by Steven DeKnight). Buffy’s birthday is January 19, 1981, according to Joss, even though “Blood Ties” aired Feb. 6th.
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Just what Buffy needed--as in not! Travers and a group of Watchers from London were coming to add the little bit of misery that her life was lacking at the moment.

“It seems they’ve found some information that may help us out,” Giles tried to sugar coat it.

“News about…Glory?”

“So it would seem. It is rather remarkable that they have managed to find information that was non-existent merely a week ago when I was going through their library there.” Giles suspected that there was quite a bit of information kept on a “need to know” basis and out of the hands of Watchers and Slayers.

“I still don’t want them back in my life, Giles.” Buffy sat at the round table amidst her friends there at the Magic Box and sighed in frustration. “They have a bad habit of trying to kill me when they show up in my town.”

“I can assure you that killing you is far from their minds this time.”

“Can you?” She really hoped Giles was right. There were enough threats at the moment. “Glory came by my house today.” The gasps came from all sides.

“Good Lord! Are you unhurt?” Giles hadn’t noticed any injuries.

“I’m fine. She wants her Key and threatened to start killing people close to me until I give it to her.” She looked resigned. “I guess I’ll have to put up with the Tweed Breed invasion if they can help me take her out before anyone else does get hurt.”

Xander suggested, “We need to find this key thing before Glory does, is my guess. Anyone got a clue where to start?”

Buffy and Giles looked at each other, obviously uncomfortable. “I think it’s time we told them, Giles. If Glory is planning on a killing spree, they need to know what we do.”

“There’s knowing? I mean knowing that we don’t know?” Willow sounded hurt.

“We didn’t want anyone to become a target by knowing anything, but it looks like you’re targets anyway.” She took a deep breath and began the tale. “Okay, guys, here’s the deal. It’s all about Dawn.” Buffy knew it was going to be a long conversation. After all, even she and her mother were having trouble reconciling that all their memories of Dawn, good and bad, were not real.

~*~

Buffy considered all her options; there weren’t many, really. She had to keep her mom and Dawn safe and that meant from the Council as well as the crazy bitch that seemed to defy everything Buffy used against her.

She was tired of merely reacting. She needed to start planning. “Mom, pack a bag for a few days for you and Dawn.”

“Where are we going and why?”

“It’s not safe here just now and I can’t be here twenty-four/seven. I need to know you’ll be okay, with someone who can protect you.”

Joyce pondered that. “From this Glory?”

“Yeah, and maybe the English Inquisition too, but I’m not sure about them. That’s the trouble, I’m never sure of them.”

“Where are you taking us?”

Dawn hugged the newel post and trembled a bit. Glory had scared her more than a bit and seeing Buffy scared made it worse. “Is she going to try to kill us?”

“She can try,” Buffy began, but on seeing that only alarmed the others further, decided to change tactics. “No. She can’t. I’m making sure of that and you have the whole gang of us working on how to nip this in the bud. No reason to worry, I just want someone I trust to watch our backs so I can deal with the Council guys and not worry.”

“So where ARE you taking us?” Joyce sincerely hoped Buffy wasn’t thinking about Angel. She really didn’t like him one bit and feared that Buffy put far too much faith in his innate goodness.

“To Spike. I know he lives in a crypt and all, but it’s kind of homey in a way and I know he cares about you two enough to make sure you’re safe.”

That was a bit better. Joyce wasn’t sure about living in a cemetery, but she did know that Spike wouldn’t let them down. “Are you sure he won’t mind houseguests?”

“I haven’t asked yet, but I’m sure.”

“I think that’s an excellent choice, and knowing Spike, I don’t doubt he’ll make us as comfortable as possible. He’s still got that old world streak of hospitality,” Joyce nodded. “He’ll protect us.”

Dawn was more than a bit excited. How COOL to spend a few nights in the cemetery with the neatest vampire she could ever imagine. She could pump him for all kinds of stories about his ‘Big Bad’ days. “Spike likes me. I’m sure he’ll be glad we’re there. I bet he gets lonely all by himself.”

Now there were words Buffy had never attached to Spike. Hospitable. Lonely. She had a flash of Spike bowing in a courtly manner over her mother’s hand and letting Dawn cuddle during a movie. Somehow it didn’t seem as impossible as it might have a short while before. Maybe all the patrols together had shown her a little softer side of Spike. “Just like Sears.”

“What’s that, dear?”

“Seers…you know, to find out what they might, um…see about this whole Glory thing. Yup, that’s what I need to look into.” Buffy didn’t want a lengthy Spike discussion just before going over to ask him a favor.

~*~

Spike leapt from the top of the sarcophagus, barely avoiding the ray of sunlight that come in with the Slayer and her family. “Oh, it’s the Slayer. For a second there I was worried.” He looked at Joyce and Dawn in puzzlement. “So having a family outing, are we?”

Buffy walked up to him, close enough to touch. It was all he could do to keep himself from putting his arms around her, she looked so vulnerable. It had become harder and harder to keep his real feelings for the Slayer from showing lately. They had been spending a larger amount of time together watching each other’s backs on patrol and getting along rather well.

She was suddenly nervous. She had been fairly certain he would help, but now faced with actually asking for a favor she wondered what her other options might be. It hadn’t been that long ago when they had been at each other’s throats. “I need your help.”

Spike was startled. The Slayer had been nicer to him of late, less caustic, but actually asking for something all polite-like was another thing. “They didn’t put a chip in your head too, did they?”

Buffy was startled at his response. “No, why would you even think that?”

Spike shrugged. “Just not used to polite askin’ from you yet. No insults in a long while and the old Buffy just demanded things or threatened. Makin’ sure you’re yourself, that’s all.”

Buffy didn’t want to take time to explain the change in her thinking regarding chipped and ex-demons at this time. “I’m serious. I need you to look after them,” she motioned to her family standing with bags in hand in the doorway.

“That’s a boatload of manly responsibility to come flying out of nowhere. Why me?” He swallowed and looked at two of the only three humans he actually cared about and hoped he wouldn’t disappoint.

“You’re the only one strong enough to protect them. The Council is here with information about Glory, and I don’t trust them either. I can’t be everywhere at once and I have to know they are safe.” Time to admit a few things. “I know you’ll do everything you can to protect them. I trust you.”

That was new. As chuffed as it made him to know he had finally earned the Slayer’s trust, it also scared him a bit. Things too good to be true usually turned out not to be.

“So? Do I have to look elsewhere?”

Spike walked towards Joyce with his most genial smile. “Ladies, come on in. Haven’t exactly got a set-up that’s human-friendly, but we can put something together.” He gestured around the crypt. “Basic kitchen and den here with working microwave. Naught but blood in the fridge, but we can pick up a few things when the sun goes to a more vamp-friendly place. TV works and I finally got that cable hooked up.” He smiled at Joyce, who grinned in response.

Dawn had already sat down in the one armchair and was flipping through channels. “You’ve got porn!” Joyce grabbed the remote and powered it off while blushing brightly.

“Um…yeah, about that….” Spike stammered. “Bachelor flat here, not used to anyone else touchin’ my stuff.” He leveled a glare at Dawn that frightened her not one bit.

“Dawn, you know better than to be disrespectful,” Joyce chided. “This is Spike’s home and you will treat it the way I raised you.”

“’S okay, Joyce. Bit’s used to getting’ her way ‘round me. Likely my fault she’s manners to let.”

Buffy watched the interplay and felt the tightness in her belly ease. They were going to get along just fine. “I’ll bring some groceries and other stuff you’ll need after I stop in at the Magic Box. Anything else you need, let me know.” She looked directly into Spike’s eyes. “And thank you. Really, thank you.”

“No problem. Just gettin’ ready to watch a bit of Passions. Won’t mind the company,” he looked pointedly at Dawn, “long as they keep still while the show’s on.”

“OH, Passions! Did they get Timmy out of the well yet?” Joyce and Spike had bonded over a shared love of the wacked out soap months before.

“No, but he’ll be fine. All the witch has to do is sew him back up and he’ll be good to go.”

Buffy had to grin in spite of all her worries. Spike was truly a unique vampire on many fronts. “Well, I’ll just leave you to your TV madness then.”

They didn’t even notice her leaving, having settled into companionable silence, eyes glued to the TV screen.

~*~

Travers had closed the Magic Box and thoroughly intimidated everyone by the time Buffy arrived. There were six other Watchers still going over and touching everything in the store as if they owned it.

“Miss Summers, good to see you again,” Travers said in a voice filled with ennui and a stony face that underscored his insincerity.

Buffy didn’t bother to answer. She knew she would choke on any greeting that smacked of actually being happy to ever see any of them again in her lifetime.

“Well, let’s get to it then,” Travers motioned to the desk where he had a few unopened files and a briefcase. “We are ever willing to assist our Slayer in the performance of her duties and have all the information available on this Glory here.” He smiled at her. Buffy thought it was rather like seeing a snake smile. “Of course, we must make absolutely certain that the Slayer is in proper condition to receive this information.”

There it was. ‘Carrot on desk and stick firmly in hand’ was Quentin’s favorite position. “We’ll begin with physical assessments and then we’ll deal with your strategic planning and general knowledge later.” He motioned for his Watchers to disperse. Three of them headed out, while the other three went to the training room, evidently to prepare. “Meanwhile, some of my team will begin their questioning of your…ahem…associates.”

“What?! You have no right to bother my friends or come testing me. I’ve been guarding the Hellmouth just fine ever since I quit and I don’t owe you any demonstrations. I do my job just fine and you know it. You don’t have the right to come in here and mess up Giles’ business either.”

“Of course we do, and a great deal more. In fact, if you insist on fighting us, we’ll arrange to have Mr. Giles deported within the day. He’ll never set foot in this country again.” He was positively gleeful knowing he had them all over a barrel. “Perhaps you’re used to idle threats and sloppy discipline,” he looked right at Giles, “but you’re dealing with grown ups now. Am I making myself perfectly clear, Miss Summers?”

“As a bell. I know who and what I’m dealing with.” Buffy was furious but unable to think of a thing to stop them from getting what they wanted.

“Shall we begin then?”

Travers headed for the training room with Giles and Buffy trailing. Buffy took the opportunity to whisper to Giles, “Can he really do all that?”

“Yes, I fear he can indeed. They may only seem good for bureaucratic busy work, but they do have unimaginable power politically on an international scale.”

“And they know just what it would take to make me give in.” Buffy put a fond hand on Giles’ arm just as they entered the training room. “I can’t lose you, Giles.”

“Thank you.” He was more touched than he could say, especially as useless as he’d felt of late.

They began a training exercise that proved nothing other than Buffy’s lack of knowledge when it came to Japanese names for fighting positions and moves. She let it go on a while before she began to hate looking like some newly called Slayer not quite up to snuff. “You know what? I’m gonna have to do this my way, guys.”

She then proceeded to kick major butt. She was poetry in motion and never missed her target, even while wearing a blindfold. No one needed to instruct her in where to place her feet in any language. Her feet were all over a suddenly frightened Philip the Watcher. The cracked ribs she gave him were only a plus.

~*~

Joyce was looking a bit tired and Spike recalled how short a time had passed since her surgery. “Need a bit of kip, pet?”

“I am a bit tired, but I won’t put you out. I think Buffy plans to bring by some camping cots later.”

Spike grinned and winked. “Show you both a little secret, but you have to promise not to tell.”

Dawn perked up at once. Secrets from a vampire? Secrets kept from Buffy? That had to be worth seeing. She SO knew that Spike liked her best!

“Got a downstairs to this little set-up. Regular two story flat here.” Spike lifted the trap door that no one had noticed and motioned them to join him. “I’ll go first and light it up a bit. Mind the ladder!”

Joyce was impressed. “Wow, this looks homey.” She took in the brass queen-sized bed and other bedroom furniture, the shelves crammed with books and the makeshift closet. There was a reclining chair near the single floor lamp. A side table held a lamp, but mostly it appeared to be candlelit by choice.

Spike moved a curtain on the wall across from the bed. “Got a bit of a rigged up shower through here. Only cold water at the moment, and no other facilities, I’m afraid, but good for a wash up. It’s kind of a work in progress. If you need other facilities, there’s the caretakers cottage not far off. I’ve got an arrangement with the twit; I don’t eat him and he lets me have free access. Course, it helps that he doesn’t know he’s safe unless he gets magicked into a pig.”

Spike’s talk of his diet had ceased to bother Joyce the more she had come to know him. It seemed to be important to him that everyone remember the power he once mastered. “It’s lovely!” The oriental rug under her feet reminded Joyce of the one her grandmother had back in Indiana.

“This is SO cool! Buffy doesn’t know about this?” Dawn was poking around looking at everything.

“No one does. Can lock the trap from here and stay hidden from unwanted company.” He pointed to another curtained area, “Got access to the sewer system there, sort of a back door. This is the main reason I picked this place. Easy to protect, watch my back. Now watch yours.”

“Thank you again, Spike.” Joyce was honored that he’d shown them his private sanctum.

“Why don’t you have a bit of a nap then. Has to be a tirin’ day with the upheaval and all.” He turned down the comforter on the bed. “I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you. He looked at Dawn. “Keep your mum company, yeah? And no pokin’ in my personal stuff either, Bit!”

Joyce nodded. “That comes from me too, missy. No snooping in Spike’s things. I’m sure you have homework with you if you don’t want a nap.”

“Got music here too.” Spike tossed a Walkman into Dawn’s lap and pointed to the collection of CDs on a shelf. “Listen to all that you want, but no touching the vinyl.” He wasn’t chancing losing any more of his precious collection. Harmony hadn’t gotten the whole lot when she decided to burn his stuff.

They all started at the sound of banging from above. “Sounds like we’ve got some visitors. I’ll nip up and check it out. You two stay down here and keep quiet.”

Spike carefully replaced the area rug covering the trapdoor before he opened the crypt door to find a contingent of Watchers all holding crosses and weapons.

“Well, what brings you lot here? Got a feelin’ you’re not here for the neighborhood watch meetin’.”

The female was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. The two men pointed their weapons and looked like they were on a hair trigger as well.

“We’re from the Council of Watchers and we need to ask you a few questions. We mean you no harm,” the woman replied.

“Figured you looked like COW’s.” The woman looked affronted. “Think they must clone most of you Watcher types. Stand out in any crowd.” He stepped aside and motioned for them to enter. Actually it was rather refreshing to have anyone actually knock and await an invitation. It was also invigorating smelling the palpable fear rolling off all three of the wankers. Chip or no, he still had it, in spite of what Buffy’s crew seemed to think.

“We have it on good authority that you help the Slayer from time to time. Is that so?”

“I pitch in from time to time. Get a spot of violence, save the day, all that rot.”

“I’d think you’d want to kill her! You’ve killed Slayers before.” The woman was furiously taking notes.

“Eternity gets boring doin’ the same ol’, doin’ what’s expected.” He grinned. “Bit of a rebel. ‘Sides, some of us evolve. So you’ve heard of me, have you?” Nice to know his rep was intact.

All three Watchers nervously fingered their weapons as Spike crooked a brow in amusement.

“I, um, wrote my thesis on you.” The woman looked at him as if she’d love a more in-depth…well, not chat precisely, but acquaintance at the very least.

Now that thesis was one piece of Watcher information Spike would love to get in his hands. They had much misinformation in the books Giles had in his library, especially regarding himself. He wondered just how the bint had collected her information and what her conclusions about him had been.

The questions continued and Spike chose to answer truthfully. No point in playing games at this point. Slayer was treating him right and the last thing the girl needed was more trouble from the likes of this trio. There was a time when Spike could have used this situation to all sorts of advantage and played havoc with them all, but since he knew his heart, those days were as much in his past as any information the lady Watcher had in her thesis.

~*~

Buffy was late. She’d delivered some groceries and a dinner of fast food to her mom and Dawn and by the time Buffy and Spike had set up the two cots in his surprising lower level, she realized that the appointed time to meet with the Watchers had already passed.

Dawn had pouted a bit when Spike escorted Buffy downstairs. Her little sister had already made herself right at home. Now they had enough comforts to withstand a few days hiding with the amazingly accommodating Spike.

Travers had given her an exact time to come in for the non-physical portion of this exercise in futility they insisted upon before coughing up the information they claimed to have on Glory.

Buffy had talked to Willow and Xander earlier and knew that the British Plague had been asking all kinds of questions about her and her methods of slaying. She had a feeling that it wasn’t going to go well, and arriving late was guaranteed to put the old goat in a bad mood. He loved to flex his power where she was concerned and tardiness had to be a big black mark in his book.

Just a block from the Magic Box, she was stopped cold by a guy who looked like he stepped out of ‘Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves.’ Only she would bet it wasn’t Kevin Costner beneath that chain mail. He had even brought friends, friends with swords.

She easily took out his buddies and knocked the sword out of the first knight’s hand, pushing him to the ground. “Okay,” she ripped the mail mesh from his face, “Let’s see just what you are.” No, not Kevin, but definitely human, even had a funky tattoo on his forehead. “Or who you are.”

“One soldier in a vast army.” The knight glared in defiance.

“What army?”

“The Knights of Byzantium, an ancient order, and now your enemy.”

There were Slayer enemy armies now?

“You work for Glory?”

“You dare think we would align ourselves with the beast? You are truly mad.”

“And this from the one trying to kill me.” Buffy was sick to death of all the variables that kept popping up with this whole Glory business.

“No, we were fools, three alone. But if it takes a hundred men, we send a hundred men, and if it takes a thousand, we’ll send a thousand.”

“Why?”

“As long as you protect the Key, the brotherhood will never stop until we destroy it and you, so says the Lord. You are the Slayer and we know what must be done. Kill us and let the legions follow.” He lifted his head a bit to expose his neck, clearly expecting to be killed.

“I don’t think so. Listen, Kevin, tell your legionnaire buddies to back off. The Key is safe and off-limits to all of you, and Glory is toast. So just get back on your horsie and ride out of my town while you still can, got that?” She got up off the puzzled knight and continued her way to the Magic Box, swinging the sword she had taken from him.

Lots of food for thought went with her. She was so tired of all the games. There was a blonde bimbo to kill and a sister to make safe. She was really sick of being jerked around as if she wasn’t the obvious one to do those things, along with all her other Slayer duties. Even those now dead monks had known it would be the Slayer having to fight this fight when they sent Dawn to her. When push came to shove, it always boiled down to the Slayer in the end.

Travers looked pointedly at his watch. “You’re late.”

“Yeah.”

Giles noticed the sword and smudges of dirt on her light-colored coat. “Was there an attack?” Buffy nodded.

Travers clearly had no interest in what had kept her or who had attacked the Slayer. “We can begin the review at last. We’ll skip the more obvious questions.” He pulled out a thick pile of papers.

Buffy slammed the sword down on top of them. Epiphanies were good things, she decided.

“There isn’t going to be a review. No review, no interrogation, no questions you already know that I can’t answer. No hoops, no jumps, no pony tricks.” One of the Watchers started to sputter indignantly, only to draw Buffy’s ire. “No interruptions.”

She began to pace, but not in nervousness. “I’ve had a lot of people talking to me the last few days. Everyone is just lining up to tell me how unimportant I am and I’ve finally figured out why.” She narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table at Travers, “Power. I have it and they don’t, and this bothers them. It bothers you.”

She didn’t spare a glance to anyone other than Quentin Travers as she continued. “Glory tells me I’m nothing. She could squash me in a second, but the thing is…she didn’t. She came to my home and talked, she made threats and left. She needs something from me and that gives me power over her.

You guys didn’t come all the way from England to decide whether I was good enough for you to let me back in. You came to bribe me to let you back in, to give your jobs and lives some semblance of meaning.”

The Watcher named Nigel started to interrupt again. “This is beyond insolence--.”

Buffy grabbed the sword from the papers and neatly tossed it across the room into the wall directly next to his head. She hadn’t blinked.

“I’m fairly certain I said no interruptions.”

The Scoobies sitting on the balcony were grinning, as was Giles. Buffy was majestic to behold, the Slayer in her full glory.

“You’re Watchers. Without the Slayer, you’ve got nothin’ to watch except BBC. You don’t guard the Hellmouth or stop the annual apocalypse. You can’t stop Glory. You can’t do anything with the information you say you have except maybe publish it in the ‘Everyone Thinks We’re Insane-O’s Home Journal’ So…,” She glared at Travers again. “Here’s how it’s gonna work. You are going to tell me everything you know about Glory and then you are going to go away. You will contact me if and when you have any further information about Glory. The Magic Box will remain open and Mr. Giles will remain here as my official Watcher, reinstated at full retroactive, salary from the month you fired him. And I will continue to work with the help of my friends as I see fit.”

One of the more timid watchers ventured a comment. “I don’t want a sword thrown at me, but you are talking about civilians, children, and a vampire.”

Buffy looked up at her friends and smiled for the first time. “We’re talking about two very powerful witches, a thousand-year-old ex-demon, and a vampire who has already helped stop a couple of apocalypses, not to mention has my back on patrol.”

Philip with the cracked ribs broke in, “And the boy? No power there.”

Buffy gave him a dismissive look. “The ‘boy’ has clocked more field time than all of you combined. He’s part of the unit.”

A chuffed Xander whispered, “I’ve clocked field time!”

“You may all be very good at your jobs. The only way we’re gonna find out is if you work with me, like the Council is supposed to. Well, Quentin, are you understanding me?”

Travers cleared his throat. “Your terms are acceptable.”

“Fine. So about Glory…what kind of demon is she?’

“That’s just the thing. Glory isn’t a demon at all. She’s a god.”