Giles was once again furiously cleaning his glasses while Buffy and Spike looked on. Buffy was seated on the couch with arms folded tightly across her chest, while Spike sat next to her on the arm of the couch, observing Giles' manic pacing with a hint of amusement despite the multitude of worries at hand.

"You know," Buffy spoke up, "One of these days you're gonna rub a hole right through those things, and then where would you be? Because, blind Giles? Not very helpful."

Spike let out a barely audible chuckle at this, and Buffy shot him a brief but knowing glance from the corner of her eye, recalling the time when Willow had cast a spell that inadvertantly rendered Giles completely blind and made Buffy and Spike think they were newly-weds-to-be, back when they still wanted to kill each other.

Not sure whether Giles was blatantly ignoring her or simply hadn't heard the comment, Buffy opened her mouth to speak again, only to be silenced as Giles held up his hand, placing his now spotless glass back on the bridge of his nose. "It's as I feared," He said cryptically, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as though he'd just had some sort of epiphany. "I had it on good authority that someone among us was being controlled, and I figured Andrew was the most likely candidate since he seemed to know the most about what had happened at Wolfram and Hart. Furthermore, who better than Andrew to get himself into big bloody trouble?"

"How did you know someone was being controlled?"

Giles looked at Buffy, as though remembering for the first time that he wasn't alone in the room, pausing to shove a hand inside his trouser pocket and pulling a folded sheet of paper. "This clued me in," He said, holding the paper out for Buffy to examine. Eyebrows raised, she grasp the white paper, unfolding it while Spike peered over her shoulder. "Oh, handy," She said dryly as she saw what was on the note. There were letters that appeared to be cut out of newspapers, forming only the words 'Someone among you is being controlled.'

"How depressingly unoriginal," Spike muttered.

"Well, at least we know whoever did this probably lacks a computer and has no imagination whatsoever," Buffy said as she stood and handed the paper back to Giles.


"I found it on my doorstep just before I left to come here," Giles explained, "and I think the message is quite clear. Someone was trying to warn us."

"So, any thoughts on who said mystery person might be?" Inquired Buffy, to which Giles shook his head, the wrinkles on his forehead growing ever deeper as he concentrated.

Letting out a brief sigh, Spike raised a hand, looking slightly perturbed. "Not to interrupt. Because while that's very sweet of them to help and all, right now I'm a bit more concerned with finding out the identity of the thing that's trying to kill us."

Giles nodded, glancing at Buffy. "I have to admit, Spike is right."

"I am? Well, color me surprised."

"Though unfortunately I haven't a clue yet as to who, or what, that might be." Giles had stopped pacing now, taking a seat in a nearby chair and resting an elbow on his knee so he could prop up his head on one hand.

"Well, how about Buffy's ex flame, Mr. Mysterious?" Spike knew without looking at her that Buffy was glaring daggers at him as he said this, he could practically feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of his head, though he ignored it and pressed on.

Giles lifted his eyebrows. "The Immortal? No, he's not an option."

"And why the hell not?"

Raising his head from his hand, Giles gave Spike a look of utter impatience. "Because, he's one of our strongest allies. He's worked along side the council for years."

"Right, and that means a lot, since the bleedin' council's always been so well known for its reliability," Spike challenged, the sarcasm all but dripping from his voice.

"Spike!" Buffy's voice was stern as she shot him a look that told him to back off, before turning to face Giles once again and speaking calmly. "He's right."

Spike lifted a scarred eyebrow. "And the surprises keep coming."

"We can't rule out anyone at this point," Buffy continued. "We need to figure out who's doing this, and why. And if there's any connection with those dreams I've been having."

"Ah, yes, those dreams. There is one thing I found out." Giles pulled a large manilla envelope from the table beside him, obviously carrying the contents of whatever research he'd managed to accomplish. "If there's one thing I've learned in my years as a watcher, it's that a slayer's dreams are almost always prophetic."

"Yay me," Buffy said wryly, though despite the mock enthusiasm in her tone, Spike could tell Giles' words had made her somewhat nervous, as she had begun to absentmindedly clench and unclench her hands into small fists.

"There's a lot more I need to tell you." Giles reached inside the envelope, pulled out a laminated sheet of paper and handed it to Buffy.

'When darkness falls, death will prevail.
Your will shall guide you through these darkest days.
Come hither, maiden, lift your veil.
That which is overthrown demands restoration.
It screams inside and never sleeps.
Blood awaits for those that seek redemption.
Consumes and burns as the shadow weeps.'

Buffy nodded, recognizing the words on the paper. "My dream."

Standing, Giles walked over to Buffy and clamped a hand on her shoulder. "Sendesku"

"Bless you," Buffy said without missing a beat.

"No, no. It's a prophecy, Buffy."

Smiling sheepishly, Buffy lowered the paper in front of her. "Oh." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Goody."

Buffy had now rejoined Spike on the couch, absentmindedly toying with the hem of his duster while she spoke. "So then, this san-desk-you, what's it about?"

"Sendesku," Giles corrected. "It's still a bit of a mystery, as far as prophecies go. To this day, its origins are still unknown, but it is believed to be rather old. In fact, some even suggest it was forged during a time when the ancients still walked the earth."

"Ancient what?" Buffy looked perplexed.

"The most ancient race of demons."

"Illyria," Spike said under his breath.

"What?"

"Illyria," He said again, louder this time. "She's one of them, one of those geriatric demon people. She was released from her sarcophagus at Wolfram and Hart, big conspiracy and all... You think maybe her being unleashed again set this prophecy riff raff in motion?"

Giles sighed. "It's possible. But we don't know nearly enough about the origins of the prophecy to make any assumptions yet." He paused, "However, there is something else, something I've been fearing these past couple days." He sighed again, loudly, before continuing in a rather dark and cryptic voice. "The battle between good and evil has always existed, though as we know, there is a constant need for balance. When Buffy was brought back from the dead, the scales were tipped, and thus the First was released, in a retaliation of sorts. So, what if there have been other upsets in the balance, enough to start a whole other chain of events that would tip the scales in such a way that, sooner or later, another evil would arise? I mean, we can't be sure... but what with Willow's spell awakening slayers around the world, Spike being brought back from the... well, from the undead. This Illyria being unearthed.... All of it doesn't seem to be the natural order of things, does it?"

Giles paused again, as though another light bulb had gone off in his head, and he turned to face Spike. "Spike, how exactly did you manage to survive that battle? From what I've heard there were hundreds, maybe thousands of countless demons, and yet you managed to escape unscathed. How is that possible?"

Spike looked perplexed, shifting slightly uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm, uh, not sure, exactly."

Buffy too had now turned to face him, looking as baffled as ever. "What do you mean, you're not sure?"

"It's a bit... fuzzy. I'm fighting and suddenly there's all these big nasties closing in on me, I'm on the ground, then everything got... well, fuzzy.

"You said that already."

"Oh, right. Well, time got all wonky, and then-"

Buffy grabbed him by the forearm, looking increasingly distressed as he continued with his story. "Wait, so time
went out of whack? Like what happened to me the other day?"

Spike thought for a minute, mentally slapping himself for not thinking about this strange coincidence earlier. But he realized that for the past several weeks following the battle, he'd been too caught up in thinking about Buffy and trying not to recall the horrible occurences at Wolfram and Hart that he'd neglected a few important details. "I reckon so," He said evenly, "Then, suddenly, I looked up and the lot of 'em were..." He stopped suddenly, as if a fog had lifted and he'd only just remembered a vital detail. He swallowed hard, knitting his eyebrows together and speaking slowly. "Retreating."

"Retreating?" Buffy looked to Giles, noticing his expression of confusion and anxiety matched her own.

Taking off his glasses for the umpteenth time that night, Giles whiped the beads of perspiration from his brow.
"So then you're saying they were running away," He said after a moment.

"Well thank you, Captain Obvious." But Giles was too caught up in this revelation to even cast a scowl Spike's way. Buffy could practically see the gears churning in his head as he struggled to put two and two together.

"I just find it hard to believe that an entire army would turn and run like a bunch of sissies from, no offense, you."

Spike smirked at him. "Thanks ever so"

"I mean, you're only one against an army of thousands..."

"I wasn't the only one left standing. Illyria... she was there, too. She survived."

Giles had begun pacing the room again as he spoke in an increasingly impatient tone. "Do you know where this Illyria is now?" He inquired. Spike shrugged.

"Haven't the foggiest," He replied, "Haven't heard a peep from her since the battle."

"Alright, well, something must have called the army off then, or possibly they were scared off... What if, what if-"

"Giles enough with the what if's before you pop a blood vessel. Yeesh, you're here for what, an hour, and we're already talking about the next apocalypse!" Buffy was on her feet again, slightly flushed. It was obvious she had heard some things she didn't want to be hearing.

"It's quite necessary to discuss all the possibilities, Buffy. You know as well as I-"

"Ok, well, what about the other parts of my dreams?" She interrupted, hands on her slender hips. "The parts where I'm, you know, dead? And what about the part where time goes all wonky?"

"I've told you Buffy, I'm still looking into it. Right now, however, I think finding out as much as we can about the prophecy and its origins is most important. We need to find out exactly what it means, which may take some time. Very few records exist of the Sendesku, and tracking them down won't be easy."

"Is anything?"

Giles directed a tight-lipped smile in Buffy's direction, as if to say, 'I know what you mean.'

"I think first we ought to figure out who's been controlling Andrew, and why whatever it was had him attack you, Spike."

"Why don't we just go ask the boy?" Spike jerked his thumb toward the kitchen, indicating Andrew.

Giles, having retaken his previous seat, shook his head. "He's in no state to talk right now. He's so dazed at the moment I doubt he could even name one Star Wars character if I asked him. So we'll have to do without him for the time being. We can't have any more distractions-"

Just then, as if on cue, the doorbell rang, cutting off Giles mid-sentence.

"Oh, for God's sake," He muttered in irritation as Buffy made her way over to the door, swinging it open to reveal two very familiar faces.

"Hey, Buff!"

Buffy smiled warmly at the visitors. "Wills, Xand!" She greeted in return, watching as they peered over her shoulder, taking in the sight of a red-faced Giles and smirking Spike with wide eyed astonishment.

"Right," Buffy chuckled uncomfortably as both their gazes remained glued on Spike, who was now standing just a few steps behind Buffy.

"There's a lot to explain... Giles!" She motioned for him to come closer, shoving him toward the gaping duo. "Giles, won't you explain to Willow and Xander here what's going on before their eyes pop out of their heads? Since you're so much better at explaining and you know more about all of it anyway... Thanks, you're the best!" She flashed him an innocent smile, brushing past him before he had a chance to protest.

"Come with me," She pleaded quietly as she passed Spike, tugging his hand and leaving him no choice but to follow her out the back door. Not that he would've said no, anyway.

"Sorry," She said when they were safely out the door and out of earshot. "Things were just getting..." She let out a soft sigh, tilting her head slightly upward to breathe in the cool night air. "I just needed a breather..."

"Preachin to the choir, luv."

"Yeah..." Her voice was soft as she offered a tight-lipped, though appreciative smile, grateful to be understood without words. Though her smile faded as her eyes came to rest on the white bandage on his chest, still clearly visible through the gaping hole in his shirt. Taking a step closer, she reached out and lightly fingered the bandage, noticing several small spots where his blood had soaked through the material. Pulling her hand back when he winced slightly, she looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry," She said. "Is it... Is it getting better?"

"Almost healed, I reckon." That was a lie. It still stung like a bitch under even the gentlest touch, as the stake had gone in fairly deep. Though, Spike figured that with his super-human healing, the wound would probably have completely disappeared within the next couple hours.

Buffy bit at her lip, struggling to find words. "I was worried, when Andrew..." She gulped, "I thought that... It looked like he hit the, the-"

"Heart?" Spike supplied, and Buffy nodded. "I thought so too, at first. But apparently the boy missed, so cheers to that."

"Spike, I-"

"'M fine." He said, leaning his back against the closed door.

Shaking her head, Buffy leaned against the wall next, hugging her arms tightly around her body. "Maybe now, but... What if something goes after you again? Or, or Giles, or-"

"You?"

Buffy shrugged. "It could be any one of us next, it's just a matter of time. And all we have are a bunch of hyped up theories, nothing solid... I'm just-"

"'M worried too." He looked at her, and somehow the understanding that shone from the depths of his cerulean eyes served to soothe something inside her, yet again. "But worrying never solved anything. Only thing it does is drive you up a soddin' wall. Best just try to keep your head clear, take things as they come. Rupes'll figure it out, someone will," He paused, adding, "I bloody well hope," under his breath, though loud enough for Buffy to hear. Looking downward, Buffy realized they'd unconsciously locked hands sometime while Spike was talking, their fingers laced together tightly.

Side by side, they stood, staring out into the night sky. Both dreaded what new revelations the next day would bring, but felt slightly comforted nonetheless, knowing that, if nothing else, they had each other.

---

A/N: So now we have a new prophecy (sendesku sounds kinda like shanshu, doesn't it? Coincidence?...), someone is controlling Andrew, Illyria and the Immortal's possible involvement, Buffy's dreams, and Spike's mysterious survival during the battle. Confusing, I know. But please keep the faith - all will be explained, and we will see more progression in the Spuffy relationship in the coming chapters. I still have a long way to go with this story. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Please please please review and let me know what you think :-)