[A/N: Finding my way back to this story after the drought I’d been on hasn’t been easy. It’s been a rough climb, what with all the gnashing of teeth and trying to please my muse in any way. . . . Well, it wasn’t pretty. Hopefully, I’ve got my groove back after a small vacation and this will start to pick up again. Thank you all for bearing with me. Title and quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers are in full force and effect.]

Previously: Willow fled the scene after the spell was broken, leaving Tara bereft and heartbroken. Both Cordelia and Dawn have emerged from their unnatural sleep; although only one of them is free to return home. Spike has bought them some time by getting Jenner to agree to a meeting. This picks up shortly after the last installment.

Book Two. Chapter 54. Reveal not every secret


Let us never negotiate out of fear,
but let us never fear to negotiate.
John Fitzgerald Kennedy, Inaugural address

A strong defense is the surest way to peace.
Strength makes détente attainable.
Weakness invites war . . .
Gerald R. Ford, Address to a joint session of Congress, August 12, 1974

Reveal not every secret you have to a friend,
for how can you tell but that friend may hereafter become an enemy.
And bring not all mischief you are able to upon an enemy,
for he may one day become your friend.
Saadi, Persian poet (1184 - 1291)



Tara had the door opened, and was standing just inside, waiting patiently for them to get home. Anya and a very reluctant Xander were inside, getting food ready, while Oz waited on the front steps.

The car ride between hospital and home was conducted in near silence, the only sounds the quiet squeak of Connor sucking on his pacifier. None of the others could think of anything to say, unable to fall back on anything trivial.

Spike’s mind was consumed with thoughts of how to get Jenner and his minions to stand down, leaving the coming confrontation between the remaining members of the Scourge and the Slayers. Even without Jenner’s interference, the odds were not in their favor.

Despite the damage their rescue mission had inflicted, Angel’s minions still outnumbered them. And probably would, come the final confrontation. A deep sigh broke from him and Buffy glanced over, but said nothing. It was nearly impossible to shield his thoughts from her anyway, and Spike didn’t even bother trying. They’d already said pretty much everything there was to say while they’d been waiting for Dawn.

“Can’t see how we’re goin’ to be able to do this, pet. Peaches has at least three master vampires besides himself. We’ve only got us and Rogue . . . not too many white hats on the battleground.”

Buffy watched him pacing back and forth, feeling his agitation grow as he pondered the situation. “Wesley can fight, and so can Giles.”

He stared at her for a long minute, an assessing look on his face. “Yeah, an’ both of them can get hurt easier ‘an we can.”

“We don’t have much choice though. The only way to make sure the odds are better is to go in during the day.”

“An’ that leaves me out, til you get inside.” He shook his head. “Not liking that any better.”

“Do you think. . . maybe . . . what about Lawson? Would he help us?”

He considered that for a few seconds, then shook his head again. “Pro’lly, but he’s no master vamp. Bit more ‘an a minion, so he’d be an asset, but still. . . . “

“So he’s not the fighter you are, so what? Angel’s not the fighter you are.”

Spike was shaking his head.

“Angel’s all about the torture pet, he never was one for an outright brawl. Doesn’t mean he’s gonna be easy to fight, though.”

“What about getting Lawson to rig something at the mansion, like a fire bomb or something?” Another thought surfaced and she blurted it out, before she changed her mind. “There’s also skirt-girl. We could put her to use.”

“We’ll see.” He paused, then spared a glance for the infant in her arms. “Need to figure out something for the sprog an’ Niblet.”

She sighed, following the path of his gaze. “Yeah, I know.”

They both had lapsed into silence then, waiting anxiously for word from Dawn’s doctors.

In the intervening time, neither one had discovered a solution to their dilemma. For the moment, and quite possibly the coming confrontation, Dawn and Connor were going to be left in the care of Tara and Anya, with the two males providing protection and muscle.

Spike cut the engine of the DeSoto, every sense on alert. Nodding once at Buffy, he got out, then moved to get Dawn from the back seat. Oz was there, helping Buffy with Connor’s things and staying between her and the street, guarding her flank. Once she’d gained the porch, the werewolf drifted back toward Spike, performing the same function for the vampire.

His actions, while not predatory, were battle-aware. More than cognizant of his presence, Spike was forced to reassess Oz’ possible use in the inevitable confrontation.

The werewolf was the last in the door, securing it behind him.

Without pausing to explain to anyone, Spike shifted Dawn in his arms and headed for her bedroom.

Buffy was in the kitchen, issuing instructions, on his return. Tara was listening intently, not once interrupting the Slayer. Anya, too, was quiet.

He hovered in the hallway, not taking his eyes from her profile, silently urging her to hurry.

After a second flurry of activity, Buffy followed Spike out the door.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Giles looked up when the DeSoto’s roar echoed from the alleyway into the training room. Everyone was there, though the vampires had yet to arrive; he harbored no illusions that they weren’t already outside the shop.

The slamming of the car doors alerted everyone to the immanent appearance of the blonds. Spike paused, letting Buffy precede him inside, remarking almost in passing, “Come inside, Lawson. They won’t bite.”

Buffy snickered, enjoying the pun, though as she strode into the main shop from the training room, all humor left her expression.

Lawson trailed behind Spike, warily eyeing the others. Pointing at the vampire, Spike said, “This is Lawson. Peaches sired him in ‘43.” Waiting for that tidbit to sink in, he continued, “Sam, that’s Faith, the other Slayer. The other two are not Watchers, Giles and Wyndam-Price.”

The humans nodded until the impact of Spike’s announcement about Lawson registered. He knew the moment Wesley got it, waiting for Giles’ reaction a split second later. The older Englishman stared at the new vampire, a speculative expression in his eyes. Before anyone else could speak, Giles asked, “Can you sense anything?”

“No soul, if that’s what you’re askin’, least not one like Peaches had, though there is something.” Spike shot a glance at Lawson, “Forgive Sam Spade, he’s always asking inappropriate questions.”

Sensing Spike’s frustration, Buffy interrupted before Giles could start the inquisition. “Don’t really have time for this. Can it wait until later?”

“Buffy, the others haven’t arrived yet, we have time for a simple question or two.” The elder watcher relented, looking at Lawson. “That is, as long as Lawson has no objections to answering a few inquiries.”

The vampire looked a bit flummoxed, caught between a desire to be helpful and embarrassment. Struggling for a way to gracefully put off the former watcher, Lawson glanced at the master vampire, a slightly pleading look in his eyes.

Mindful of Giles’ propensity for putting research ahead of tact, Spike said, “Lay off, Rupes, let him get used to you before you make him spill his life story.” There was a pause and then, “An’ stop talking about him as if he weren’t here.”

“Yes, please accept our apologies. Perhaps later you might be willing to speak with us?” Wesley played the peacemaker, allowing Giles to retreat gracefully.

“That would be fine, sir.” Lawson addressed his comment to the older man, identifying him as the one to please.

“Very good.”

Faith shifted, restlessly tapping her foot, idly remarking, “You sure he’s gonna show?”

“He’ll show.” Spike shared a look with Buffy, sending a slightly off-color thought about the other slayer her way.

“A girl could get old waiting on him.” The dark-haired girl paced from counter to table, toyed with one of the stakes, then flung it down. “All this waiting is not something I’m good with. Gimme a good fight anytime.”

“Don’t worry, Faith, I’m sure we’ll get one soon enough.” Wesley moved to the table, flanking Giles. “What are you reading?”

“One of the few accounts of Jenner’s exploits. He’s unusually cautious for a vampire.” At Spike’s snort, Giles looked up. “Something to contribute?”

“Jenner never leaps before he looks. Never met another vamp like him.”

“What are the chances he’ll wait this one out?”

“Bout even.”

Before any of them could comment further, the bell over the front door sounded. All of them glanced up, expectant looks on their faces.

Spike moved forward, before the vampire at the door could enter, standing with one foot on the top step. Buffy moved up behind him, while Faith stepped up after her.

A dark-haired female vampire stepped slowly into the shop, her gaze fixed on Spike. It had been years since Spike had seen her, and the only thing that had changed was the length of her hair. He waited for her to speak, since she wasn’t a master vampire, rocking back on his heel.

“Jenner asks for a meeting with the Slayers and requests safe passage for himself and his people.”

Her instructions from Jenner had been clear – ask for the meeting, ask for safe passage – nothing more, nothing less. Glynnis waited, knowing William the Bloody spoke for all the Slayer’s people.

Without glancing at Buffy, Spike waited for her response to the question. He could feel Faith’s agitation growing as the seconds ticked by, but he remained silent until Buffy’s answer came in the form of a curt nod.

“Tell Jenner his requests are granted.”

Glynnis nodded her head, then slipped from the shop.

A collective sigh echoed in the still atmosphere of the shop and some of the tension dissipated. Buffy started to speak as the door opened again and before she could get a word out, Glynnis stepped back inside, followed by Hawkins and then, finally, Jenner.

It was the first time Buffy set eyes on the other master vampire and she blinked, feeling her spider sense go haywire. She suspected all the Aurelian line would have a similar resonance and she wasn’t wrong, though there was something more about Jenner. His signature was more aligned with Spike’s than she would’ve guessed, knowing he was older by a couple hundred years.

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy saw Faith straighten, every muscle tense with anticipation . . . oh my god! Spike was right. Faith’s got the hots for Jenner. . . . Wow.

Jenner paced forward, Glynnis and Hawkins on either side, stances poised for betrayal. His eyes swept the group arrayed in front of him, deliberately ignoring the two Slayers. Instead, he focused completely on the humans, recognizing their type, if not them personally.

“You and your people are safe. Welcome to the Magic Box.” Spike’s voice broke the tense moment and he gestured the vampires toward the table.

Wordlessly, the Welsh vampires moved forward, stopping at the first step. Jenner reached out a hand, his eyes boring into Spike’s. “Been a while, William.”

There was no inflection in his voice, but Spike could hear the question all the same. “It has.” He grinned then, clasping Jenner’s hand in his own, saying, “Welcome to the Hellmouth. Pull up a chair. Watch the fireworks.”

A deep chuckle broke from Jenner and he grabbed at Spike’s shoulder, shaking the smaller man a little. “You still owe me for getting you and Drusilla out of Europe.”

“Yeah . . . we’ll talk about that later.” Shooting a wary glance at his mate, Spike grimaced. His only response was a raised eyebrow and a bemused expression so Spike knew he wasn’t going to be yelled at for Jenner’s mention of his sire.

Following Spike’s look, Jenner finally took the opportunity to look at the blond Slayer. She was tiny, a petite little slip of a thing, barely coming up to Jenner’s chest. Long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, big luminous green eyes framed by dark lashes stared back at him, returning his intent perusal. He drew in a breath, inhaling and memorizing her scent.

And he reeled back in surprise.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Dawn wasn’t asleep. She’d spent hours and hours sleeping, hiding from her memories. Every time she closed her eyes, the sight of Casey’s mangled and lifeless body appeared.

She wasn’t allowed free access to her painkillers any more. That was the one condition the doctors all agreed on, and Buffy hadn’t fought them at all. Dawn supposed it was for the best, but it still sucked.

Her whole life sucked.

The only guy her own age who really showed interest in her was . . . Dawn shied away from that thought, refusing to think about Casey being gone. She didn’t want to be stuck here in this bed with only her thoughts. So don’t want to be thinking about any damn thing. I wish Spike had brought the television in here.

Hell, I wish someone would come and talk to me.

Dawn tried shifting, trying to get more comfortable, to no avail. There wasn’t any position she considered free of pain. Panting for air, Dawn pressed a hand against her ribs. Augh, this hurts soo freaking much.

So caught up in the pain, Dawn didn’t hear Tara knocking on her door, and didn’t realize her presence until the older girl was siting on the edge of her bed.

“Dawnie? How are you doing?”

“Crappy.” Her tone was clipped, not inviting further comment, followed by a grimace of pain.

Tara held out a mug, offering it to her. “This should help with some of the pain.”

A wary look crossed the teen’s features and she half shook her head. “What’s in that?”

“Ah, just some herbs to help you heal and relax.” Tara soothed a hand over Dawn’s arm. “Nothing you have to worry about.”

“Did . . . Did anyone. . . . Did Buffy say something to you?” She so didn’t want everyone knowing, didn’t want the weird looks and fake sympathy.

“No one knows but me, Dawnie. Don’t worry, I’m not. . . . Not going to say anything.” Tara looked into Dawn’s eyes, letting her see the sincerity in her own.

“How did you know? Who told you?”

“Shhh, Dawnie. No one told me sweetie.” Her voice was soft, soothing and Dawn had no choice but to believe her.

“So how did you know?”

“Your pain is very easy for someone like me to see.” Tara held onto Dawn’s hand, not letting her pull away. “It’s very clear.”

“Oh.” Dawn fought the new tears surfacing. She really didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to give in to the sorrow flooding her. “Tara, please don’t. . . . I don’t want anyone else to know.”

“No, I won’t say anything, but I’m here if you want someone to talk to.” Tara leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the teen’s forehead.

“Tara? Would you stay until I fall asleep?”

With a wry smile, Tara settled back down on the bed. “Sure thing.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


His reaction was visible and Jenner immediately tried to recover by taking a step back. The action failed to cover his surprise and he found himself at a distinct disadvantage. There was more to this than just a fight between Angelus and Spike – this wasn’t just about territory – it was about this woman and what she represented.

Spike took the opportunity Jenner’s surprise gave him, compounding it. “This is my mate, Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer. Faith, the other Slayer, you’ve already met.”

Before Spike could complete the introductions, Jenner interrupted. “Never thought I’d meet another pair.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I think we both have things to say to each other.”

“Appears so.” Spike shared a look with Buffy. Neither one of them missed the inference, nor the implication of Jenner’s statement. He dropped down a step, his hand brushing across Buffy’s. “Have a seat and we’ll talk.”

For the first time since entering the shop, Jenner looked at Faith and found himself unable to look away. She was . . . Jenner found himself unable to come up with something to describe her. He stared for long moments, aware of her looking right back at him. Though human females normally did not affect him, there was something about the dark-haired slayer drawing him in, and Jenner forced himself to remain still, to keep his hands at his side. He had no need to draw in air to memorize her scent and yet he found himself doing it anyway, despite the fact he’d done it the first time he’d laid eyes on her.

Buffy caught a glimpse of Giles’ face at the sudden silence between the other two. Stifling a completely inappropriate giggle that was working its way through her throat, she was succeeding until her eyes met the corresponding twinkle in Wesley’s gaze. The two spluttered, feeding off each other, until Spike’s chuckle joined them and the tension broke completely.

The laughter effectively broke through to Hawkins and he started chuckling also. Only Glynnis and Giles remained unmoved, neither finding anything remotely amusing about the slayer and Jenner being enthralled by each other.

“This is Hawkins and Glynnis.” Indicating the other two, Jenner moved toward the table. Spike slid onto a chair backwards, his arms resting across the top. Buffy moved to stand beside him, her hand resting on the middle of his back. Giles and Wesley stood off to the side, as did the two Welsh vampires. Both Faith and Lawson hung back, standing closer to the counter.

While the majority of participants were not vampires, this was still a meeting between two master vampires and the protocol, such as it was, would follow their dictates. And so, though Jenner was the elder by more than two hundred years, Sunnydale was Spike’s territory and it was left to Jenner to speak first, showing respect to Spike.

Knowing all this, while leaving the humans to guess, Jenner broke the expectant silence. “Heard the blood call sent out by Angelus. Decided to respond since I knew he was here at the Hellmouth. Knew the old fella had been here too. Thought it had something to do with the Slayer.”

He didn’t lift his eyes from Spike’s but he could feel the collective movement of the others at Spike’s back. “Angelus normally stays away from Slayers. Not like some others.” Spike’s only reaction was a grin and a nod of his head, indicating Jenner should go on. “Then I heard you were here. And since you already owe me, I decided to come collect.”

Buffy’s hand fisted, then relaxed. She hesitated, waiting to see what Spike was going to do next.

“Situation is a bit complicated here.” It was all Spike wished to say at the moment, unwilling to give Jenner more until he had heard everything else the other master vampire had to say.

“At first I thought this was merely about Angelus reasserting his familial rights. Naught more, naught less.” Jenner finally looked away from Spike, resting his eyes on Buffy. “Come here to find out it’s a bit more than nothing.”

Apropos of nothing, Jenner continued, addressing his comments specifically to the mated pair. “You remind me of them. Only met them once, but there was something . . . ” He shook his head as if to clear his memories. “They were a sight to behold.”

Buffy’s hand slid forward, cupping Spike’s shoulder and his free hand reached up to clasp her fingers. “What happened to them?”

“Council finally caught up with them. He was out hunting and somehow they got to her. Captured her. They both died during the rescue.” Jenner watched while the two of them exchanged a look.

“What year was that?” Giles couldn’t keep the question from escaping his mouth.

“1740 or so. I hadn’t been changed very long.”

The blonds shared a look. “Their names?”

“When I knew them, he was called The Norman. Supposedly he was one of the Marcher lords holding lands in Wales. Wasn’t his real name. She was Bryn, born in Rhuddlan.”

Giles leaned forward, his hands on the table. “Bryn of Rhuddlan. You mean to tell us she lived until sometime in the early 1740s?”

Not used to being questioned, Jenner’s voice took on a slight edge. “That is what I said.”

Silence descended on the group, disbelief and a sense of foreboding filling the space.

Spike looked up at Buffy, who stared down at him. Suddenly, a lifetime together didn’t seem so impossible. His thumb brushed over hers and she couldn’t hold back the tiny gasp that escaped from her.

In an instant, Spike was on his feet, his arms around Buffy, holding her close.

The other vampires had no clue what had affected the humans, until Giles spoke quietly into the silence.

“Bryn of Rhuddlan was identified by the Council as a potential slayer in 1585. She died two years later and was somehow resurrected.” He paused for a moment, letting that piece of news sink in, then continued, “She . . . according to Council records, they lost track of her shortly after that.”

Jenner sat back in his chair, a somewhat stunned look on his face, which was mirrored by the confusion on various faces, including Faith’s.

Once more silence descended.


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