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 5.10
Saturday, June 15th, 2002


Buffy was on her feet in an instant. "Spike, take care of things here. I need to go."

"Not gonna happen, sweetness," the vampire responded, lifting Rosa from his knee and depositing her between Marie and Wes in order to face off with his mate. "Never think that the only reason they might have left the bint alive was so as they could lure you into a trap?"

"I need to go."

"Fine, you need to go, but you aren't going without back up, an' we sure as hell aren't goin' to hand them two slayers for the price of one, which means I'm coming with you."

Lydia cleared her throat nervously as she also rose from her seat. "I think someone from the council should be there."

The slayer turned to Wes. "Maybe you and Faith can get things sorted out here? We'll get an update from you when we get back. Giles, it looks like you and your lady friend are coming with us. You, watcher guy?" She nodded to James. "Let someone else mind the phones and you take over from Giles. Tara, if Kennedy isn't here in ten minutes to make her apologies, can you see if maybe you can find her? She might respond better to an appeal from you than anybody else, and this thing needs to be settled tonight." She looked briefly around the room, waiting to see if anyone had any objections. "Right, let's move!"

Lydia made a grab for a notebook that she had had tucked in at the side of the sofa, pressing it into James' hands. "There are some points I wanted to bring up about security and such. My notes are in the back and perhaps you could take down some minutes?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "A match made in a very stuffy heaven..." he muttered as he strode toward the door, taking Buffy by the hand and leaving the watchers to jog to catch up.

---

"Perhaps it might be better if we took my car," Giles suggested.

Spike ignored him, unlocking the DeSoto and throwing himself into the driver's seat before leaning over to lift the ancient manual locks on the other doors. Only then did he offer any explanation for his reluctance. "No offence, watcher, but under the circumstances I'd rather trust the ladies to my drivin' than yours."

Giles bridled even as he got into the back seat, brushing aside some of Dawn's abandoned chocolate wrappers with his foot. "As I recall I've only owned one car in my entire life that was written-off, and you happened to be at the wheel at the time."

Spike's calm demeanour flickered just for an instant, drawing out the first word of his response slightly to give himself time to think. "That was deliberate. It was a diversion so I could get away. Knew the soldier boys wouldn't be able to resist a good car wreck."

"I'm sure," Giles replied, sounding anything but.

By this point, everyone was in the car, and Spike only paused long enough to ensure that Buffy had fastened her seatbelt before he gunned the engine into life and swung out of his parking spot and down the drive. "Look at it this way, Rupert. It seems to me that the chances are our bad guys forced the lass and her guard dog off the road. If they have another try I'd as soon be surrounded by solid steel as in your little Tonka toy. It's a 4x4 not a monster truck. Besides, doubt as I could bear to watch a grown man cry if they scratched the paintwork."

Giles gave only a snort in answer and the vampire was soon humming loudly as he steered the car around town at a breakneck pace. The rock tune was one that had never had a lot of airplay in America and it rivalled Buffy in age. Even Lydia gave no sign of recognising it. However, Giles' brain filled in the words that Spike left unsung.

'See the man in the busy street
He's almost incomplete
He takes his pleasure in strange ways
And the lady in the library,
She's just like you and me.
You wouldn't know her at all.
She takes the train up to the great big city.
She knocks the door and steps right in.
He's just a fool that some would like to pity.
They work it out in the house of si-in.

Night games, they pay for their night games.
They're into numbers, they don't use names.
It says in the ru-u-ules.
It's strictly for the ghouls to play their night games.
They pay for their night games,
Always play one last fra-ame. Games of the night.' *

The watcher's eyes hardened as he stared into the rear view mirror at the empty driver's seat, and his cheeks drew in slightly before his icy tone interrupted Spike's rendition of the guitar solo.

"Very good, Spike. And now that you've had your childish fun perhaps we can change the tune?"

"Sorry, Rupes," Spike answered, grinning in a way that showed he had not one iota of remorse before he started whistling an entirely different number.

Buffy had never seen the musical 'The Music Man'. She had been clueless as to where Spike's remark about '76 trombones' had come from that night after the all singing all dancing fiasco that Xander had induced and, given the kissage that had followed almost immediately on the heels of that remark, she'd been too distracted to query it. Equally, she had no idea that, had Spike been singing rather than whistling, she would have been hearing his smoky tones imbue the words, "I love you madly, madly, madam librarian, Marion," with sadistic glee. She was aware of the complete incongruity of Spike whistling what seemed to be a show tune and of the fact that her watcher had turned an unbecoming shade of purple. Taking matters into her own hands, she pulled the tape that was protruding slightly from the cassette deck out of the slot, flipped it end over end and pushed it back in until it clicked into place.

She glared a warning at her fiancé as if to tell him that the joke was over. The vampire did his best to look apologetic, but couldn't help but grin wider as he recognised the opening bars of The Dead Kennedys' classic, 'Too Drunk to Fuck'. Giles, however, did seem to calm down slightly, at least until the group reached the chorus. Thankfully, it wasn't long after that before they cruised to a halt in the hospital parking lot.

The vampire paused to light up a cigarette as he stepped from the vehicle, and Buffy grabbed her opportunity for a word in private, letting the watchers walk on ahead. She snatched the offending item from his lips, tossing it into the gutter. "Hospital," she reminded him pointedly. "It's not just the usual they say you can't so you will because you're the Big Bad. And what is it with you and Giles? Do you have to bait him like that? I mean, between the two of you, you must make seven times my age... and change but it feels more like I'm babysitting Dawn."

Spike's eyes narrowed as he tapped another cigarette free of his pack and lit up once more, this time watching for the telltales that would let him know that she was about to make another grab. "I didn't say a bloody word, despite the fact I reckon I have the right to say any damn thing I want seein' as up until last night the last tit the old guy was suckin' on was mine, and I was going to put it out before I went in the building. I guess, now, you'll just have to cool your heels out here until I'm done."

"You obviously didn't need to say a 'bloody' word. We haven't got time for games, Spike." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and then spun on her heel striding off as she continued, "For all we know this girl might only have minutes to live, and I'm not going to spend them arguing with you in the parking lot."

Buffy heard the muttered "Balls!" from behind her and had to concentrate to school her face back into its stern mask. She tracked his progress by his footfalls, knowing that he'd probably squeezed one last drag from the cigarette before he threw it away and jogged to catch up. She kept her shoulders stiff as he draped a leather clad arm over them.

It took about three strides for Spike's patience to give, and he spun into her path so that her momentum carried her into his chest. "'M sorry, right?" His arms slid around her waist holding her tight against him so that she couldn't step back. "It just comes out... An' it's not like it's normally a one way street. The watcher has a right wicked tongue on 'im... in more ways than one. C'mon, pet, don't tell me you'd pass up on the chance to get some mileage out of him?"

"Well... No, but I wouldn't do it in front of her... Or in the middle of a situation." Against her better wishes she could feel the tension leaving her traitorous body, warmth spiralling out from her abdomen just from being held against him.

Spike's breath brushed her ear as he let out a sigh of relief at her softening attitude. "In case you hadn't noticed, pet, we're always in the middle of a situation." He raised his head just enough to scan her face, those blue, blue eyes dangerously molten, and Buffy found herself rising up on tiptoe almost as if she were a puppet and he her vampire puppet master. His eyes drifted closed as her lips drew nearer, and the next thing he knew was the impact of her forearm in his stomach pushing him away.

"Rain check, Mr Evil Sexy Vampire Man," she promised as her hand slid beneath his coat to circle his waist and pull him along with her to where Giles and Lydia were just about to enter one of a bank of elevators. "Situation, now ..."

---

"And you're planning to take the assessment of William the Bloody as gospel?" Roger asked, his tone indicative of his scepticism.

"Since Blondie Bear's the one who got up off his ass, unlike the members of a certain council, to go and check the place out, then, yeah, I say we take his word for it. We haven't exactly got any other eye witnesses to ask," Faith countered. "Nice to know you watchers have so many helpers that you want to write off the contribution of someone who's got a track record for looking after your slayers' backs. I can't say that I know the guy all that well but I trust him a helluva lot more than I trust any of you suits. You've never even met him properly and you want to diss everything he's brought to the game. Forget it."

"We have met as it happens, young lady. In 1963 my colleagues and I came across him as he was slaughtering an orphanage in Vienna. He killed two of my men before he escaped, but I'm sure Wesley could have told you this already. He simply chooses to ignore the danger amongst us."

"I-I do no such thing. It is my considered opinion that Spike has had a change of heart." Wes struggled to justify his position.

His father gave a disbelieving snort. "And this change of heart will last precisely how long after that disgrace to the title slayer returns to her grave?"

"A-At last count, it was n-nearly five months," Tara informed him. "And I th-think he would d-do it anyway. S-Spike's place on the team is n-not in question. Y-Yours is."

"William, he have the darkness inside him, but is darkness tamed by love. You know never the touch of such love. You hide your darkness behind organisations and codes and words of honour and christen to be virtue. William, he fight to be goodest he can be. He is bad man who try to be good. I think you bad man who like to think he good."

The watcher rose to his feet, glaring at Lily as if she were the devil himself. He didn't even notice Ha Nath rise to her feet beside him. "This is preposterous. You do not know me, madam, and if you were any younger I would be inclined to show you the extent of my disdain for your opinion. Wesley, I will not stand here and be insulted by your demon compatriots."

The younger watcher took a deep breath, steeling himself before he replied. "Then, father, I suggest you leave. Lily is a talented empath and, so far, I have no reason to dispute her judgement in any matter. I do know you well and I have to concur with her opinion, and while she may not respond to your threats of violence in kind, I suspect that Ha Nath might feel compelled to intervene on her behalf."

"This? This slip of a girl?"

Ha Nath stepped closer until she stood almost nose to nose with the retired watcher.

"That slip of a girl regularly ejects Chirago demons from the club where she works," Wes responded with a wry smile and was rewarded with a distinct bob of his father's Adam's apple. "Now, since the rest of us, I hope, are here to achieve something constructive with this meeting, I think it would be helpful if you either go back and report your outrage to your good friend Mr Travers or sit down and be quiet, in which case we might allow you to stay for the remainder of our time, which of course would give you more tales to tell when you do go scuttling back to him. The choice is yours."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a couple of times as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard, but then he sat.

"So, we're agreed that for the moment we don't carry out routine patrols in the area of the vineyard. If Spike and Buffy get a chance to check out the tunnels tonight after they've been to the hospital, then we can make our plans based on any information that may produce."

"We could check out maps of the area to see if there's anywhere we could use for long range surveillance," Brandon suggested. "Anywhere that might overlook it. Dad might be able to help. He used to do that sort of thing all the time."

Wes nodded to the three teenagers. "Okay, I'll leave that in your hands, but I don't want any of you going out to the site. If you find anything on the maps that looks promising then I want you to bring it to one of the slayers, myself, Giles or Spike. Is that clear?

Now, research... Bee, why don't you explain about the books we're concentrating on?"

From the doorway behind Wes there came the sound of someone clearing their throat. "Maybe I could say a few words first?" Kennedy's eyes darted around the room, noting the absence of all those who had charged her with the task of apologising. For a fraction of a second she wondered if she could avoid the chore. Then, she looked at Tara. The blonde gave her an encouraging smile that gifted her with the strength to look Clem, Ha Nath and Lily in the eyes as she found the words, mostly paraphrased from Spike's earlier talk, with which to express her regret.

---

"No, we're not relatives." Just because Buffy wanted to claim the potential as a sister didn't mean that she had confidence she could back it up when the hospital staff started asking awkward questions. "You phoned us. She was asking for us."

The doctor looked over to the nearby nurses' station, and the man on duty there nodded. "She's been asking to see a... Buffy Summers?"

"And that's me!" the slayer answered in a tone too full of enthusiasm to ring true. "You call. We come."

"Miss Summers, I'm not sure if you understand quite how serious Shannon's condition is. If I allow you to see her, it will be on your own and for no more than five minutes. If at any time during that period she seems to be in any distress, you will need to leave immediately."

Buffy nodded. "I understand."

---

Buffy tried to be compassionate as the girl told her story, pointing out that even a potential had better than average recuperative powers and that if the girl was determined enough she might confound the doctors who were looking after her. She didn't think she did too badly all things considered. It was only as she stood to leave that she momentarily let her rage overcome her. "He'll pay. We'll make him pay." Strangely, or perhaps not, her vow that she would see the girl's tormentor dead did as much to set the troubled teen's mind at rest as all her kind words.

---

"It looks like our friend from the high school basement's made a reappearance, only this time he wasn't quite so shy about being seen."

Spike didn't offer Buffy the comfort of his arms that he knew she craved. Instead, he offered up his heart in his eyes and in a brush of their hands as she strode past, so glancing as to seem accidental, unnoticed even, but full of emotion nevertheless. Solace would come later, for now his slayer needed to slay, and Spike fell into step at her right shoulder with the watchers following on behind.

"Apparently, he uses the name Caleb and is, was or pretends to be some sort of preacher. He branded her with some sort of signet ring with a cross... He branded her, nearly gutted her and pushed her out of a moving vehicle all to get my attention. Well, he's got it.

We'll go check out those tunnels. You take the car back and get Willow to do..."

Buffy's step faltered and Spike drew level, taking her hand in his as the awkward silence stretched on, interrupted only by the beeps and buzzes of the I.C.U.'s equipment.

"We'll make sure someone checks it out," Lydia assured her. "Perhaps, it might be better, though, if we were all to go back to the school? I think the others need to know what's happening and it may be a few days before we can call everyone together again."

"Did she say anything else... about her watcher maybe?" Giles asked.

"They had a blow out. The car hit a tree, and he was knocked out, bleeding badly. Then, the bringers swarmed in and she ran. She ran straight to him . Thought he was going to help her... until she noticed her watcher's body in the bed of the truck... Thrown in like he was some sort of road kill, she said. All so he can gloat. He says he has something of mine. I say we get it back."

She turned to her mate. "Spike?"

The vampire looked anything but happy. He knew they were heavily outnumbered and that with an invite like they'd been given, the welcoming party was sure to be a doozy. Spike liked a challenge. That didn't mean he was suicidal or that he wanted to take risks with Buffy's life, but he also knew where he stood in this fight. The same place he always did. "Whatever you want, slayer. I've got your back."

"I really think that perhaps-."

"Giles, relax. I promised her that I'd make him pay. To do that I need to stay alive, but to quote Sean Connery, 'He sends one of ours to the hospital. We send one of his to the morgue.' Or more, since we're playing catch up, only we're going to get some information out of them first. Better go find yourself the makings for a truth spell. We're not coming home alone."

* Night Games by Graham Bonnet