June 7, 1998, Los Angeles, California
“Now, as soon as we get up tomorrow, we’re going to go and enroll you in school right?” Clem’s voice had a twinge of worry, as he watched Spike tally up a pile of bills they had just won/cheated off a group of demons in a poker game.
“Okay mate, high school, first order of business in the morning.” Spike continued to happily add up his new found earnings. “Quit worrying; you’re going to get more wrinkles than, than. . . .” He looked over at his new friend. “You already have. And besides, when did you suddenly become Mr. Responsible? You’re a soddin’ demon, who cheats at cards for a living.”
“Since your father. . . .” Clem risked a quick glance over at a chained Angel. “Will skin me alive if I don’t do right by you, and with the amount of skin I have, that won’t be a picnic.”
“Ahh.” Spike waved a hand in the direction of Angel. “He has no idea what’s happening and. . . .”
“For now,” Clem interrupted. “But you said yourself that he may snap out of it at any time. It will be bad enough when he finds out that I’ve been taking you to demon gambling dens and teaching you how to cheat, and, and, I let you lease this place,” he said as he glanced around the dingy, basement apartment they had rented just a couple days ago. “I mean, it’s okay, but what is your father going to do with the office space upstairs? And the neighborhood, it’s a little seedy, and. . . .”
“All right, all right.” Now it was Spike’s turn to interrupt. “You can stop banging on about everything. You’re beginning to sound like my Sire, Whistler, Giles, and every other adult I’ve had to deal with. You were different, mate, relaxed without your knickers in a twist all the time; that’s why were getting along so famously, so I hope you’re not going to do an about-face and become a bloody nag.”
“No, of course not,” Clem quickly reassured Spike. “But the school year’s almost over, and it would be a shame if you didn’t finish it.”
“Not likely,” Spike stated, as he tucked his new roll of money in his jean’s. “Going to set the alarm and bright and early tomorrow morning we can register me in my,” he paused a moment, as he counted on his fingers. “Sixth school in two years, going for a bloody record.”
“Boy.” Clem eyed him with sympathy. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t.” Spike’s mood shifted to gloomy. “Every time, I’d just about settle in, away I’d go, but,” he trailed off, shrugging. “Water under the bridge. Anyway, I’m feeling a bit peckish; let’s go and grab a bite.”
“Fine,” Clem agreed, as the two started for the elevator, one of the chief reasons that Spike had decided to rent the apartment. Having his own private lift had been a big selling point. “And while we’re out, we should check where the neighbor high school is, so tomorrow we’re not running around lost.”
“Right.” Spike poked the button for the first floor. “Eat first, and then look for the school.”
**
June 8, 1998, Hemery High School, Los Angeles
“Bloody hell!” Spike swore as he turned to Clem, who could only shrug his shoulders. “Transcripts! I forgot the effin’ transcripts!”
“I could call your old school for them, but even so. . . .” The school’s head secretary looked over at the clock. “By the time I get through to someone, and they find your records and fax them here, and then we have a Guidance Counselor go over them, you’ll still miss the morning classes. And today is the last day of regular classes; tomorrow exams begin. You really would be better off to return to Sunnydale, take your finals and finish the year there. You can then begin the new school year here in September.”
“Right.” Spike considered his options. When he had made his mad dash out of Sunnydale, he hadn’t thought about all the various ramifications.
“Listen.” Clem pulled him away from the office counter. “You’re the friend of the Slayer. She wouldn’t let the Watcher’s Council do anything to you, so I say, we go back to Sunnydale, where you can finish the school year, and then we return here to LA.” The demon grinned, proud of thinking up such a practical plan.
“It’s not me that I’m worried about, mate,” Spike whispered. He risked a sideways look; sure enough school secretary was staring at them. “It’s him.”
“Ahh.” Clem nodded his head in comprehension. “Not a problem. I’ll watch over him, while you’re in school.”
“You could handle a Slayer and her Watcher?” Spike asked, eyeing Clem doubtfully.
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, ahem, in my head,” Clem reassured him with a confident air.
“Well, alright then, back to Sunnydale we go.” Spike looked back at the school secretary. “We’ve decided you’re right, love. I’ll finish the year at Sunnydale High and return here for the next term.”
**
Sunydale, California
“Psst, Willow.”
A low whisper caught Willow’s attention as she strolled into Sunnydale’s main office. Whipping her head around, her first thought that it was Larry Blaisdell harassing her again, but it was only Spike, who was seated next to a very odd looking man.
“Spike! Where have you been? Exams are starting tomorrow and. . . .”
“I know,” Spike said irritably. “That’s why I came back. Anyway, I need to speak to Buffy, alone, without Giles, the other Slayer, or that prissy cow Watcher, Mrs. Post.”
“Oh, Gwendolyn Post is dead,” Willow stated very matter-of-factly. “And she really wasn’t a Watcher; I mean, she was a Watcher, but was kicked out of the Council a couple of years ago. She just pretended to be a Watcher to get her hands on the Glove of Myhnegon, so she tricked us all, including Faith. Anyway it was touch and go for a bit, and I almost died a horrible flamey death, but, but,” she trailed off, as Spike gave her a you’re-babbling glare. “I’m rambling, aren’t I? Who’s your friend, by-the-way?” She stared hard at Clem, who waved at her cheerfully.
“Clement, or Clem.” Spike turned slightly toward the demon, as he rejoiced inwardly that Gwendolyn Post was no more. Now if only the new Slayer could be rid of so easily. “He’s my new guardian, knew my father from before, and when he found out I was alone, he agreed to watch over me,” he lied smoothly.
“Oh, okay.” Willow gave Clem a small wave back, as he greeted her with a friendly, “hi.”
“He’s here with me to square away my absences,” Spike explained. “And after that I’ll see my teachers about the work I missed, and the information about the upcoming exams. When you see, Buffy, can you tell her to swing by my flat later, alone?”
“Sure,” Willow agreed, puzzled why it was so important that Buffy be alone, but was not bold enough to come out and ask Spike outright why. “I’ll let her know.”
**
“For god’s sake, Spike!” Buffy stomped past him into the apartment. “Where’d you go? And who is this Clem, I heard about, who’s your new guardi. . .,” she broke off, as said demon came into her view. “He’s a demon,” she immediately blurted out. Being the Slayer, she had a better sense of who is and is not human than others, so she spotted Clem for who he was, unlike Willow and the school personnel. “You have a demon for a guardian?”
“Love, the only badness that Clem does is cheat at cards, and then it’s only other demons he cheats, so maybe that doesn’t even count,” Spike said in a low tone, as Clem waved a friendly hand at Buffy.
“Hi, we met once before.”
“We did?” Buffy was puzzled, and then it dawned on her. “Oh, we did. You were part of the poker game that I accidentally interrupted. I chased a Raiju Demon, who thought he’d get sanctuary at Willy’s,” she explained to Spike. “Feisty guy, Willy’s back room was pretty much in shambles. You should have heard Old Will afterward; he wouldn’t stop shrieking about the damages. I remember you.” She turned back to Clem. He had been memorable in a roomful of demons because as she was leaving, dragging out the Raiju body, he had given her a thumbs up. An odd gesture for a demon. “And he’s been taking care of you?” She looked at Spike.
“Absolutely.” Clem nodded his head. “Made sure he got to the high school in LA, but then they said it really would be better if he returned and finished his exams and school year in Sunnydale. So here we are. I take education very seriously, you know.”
“Okay.” Buffy had to restrain herself from smiling. Spike was right; Clem was harmless. “So what’s with LA?” She threw Spike an inquiring look.
Sighing, Spike ran his hand through his hair, as the three made their way into the living room, where Clem immediately extended a bowl of cheese puffs to Buffy. “Couldn’t stay here, pet. Your new slayer mate and her watcher are too dangerous. If they would find out about my Sire, then. . . .”
“Gwendolyn Post is history,” Buffy interrupted. “Faith and I took her out after she got a hold of the Glove of Myhnegon and was trying to kill us all. The lady was a fraud!”
“Nutter is a better word,” Spike muttered as he threw himself on the couch next to Buffy. “I told you those Council people are all balmy.”
“I’m beginning to see, and I mean see in the literal sense, your point.” Buffy popped a cheese puff in her mouth. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about Gwendolyn Post anymore, so do you really have to move to LA?” The last thing she wanted was Spike to leave her; they had a common bond, both trying to fit in with normal people when they were far from normal. “I mean, it hasn’t been that long, your dad still may, may become, become. . . .” She fumbled for the right words. “Less hostile.”
“Oh, I think he’s already a tad less hostile.” Clem was quick to reassure.
“See!” Buffy immediately took Clem’s reassurance and used it as a don’t-leave-Sunnydale argument. “He’s probably slowly coming out of this, this mental state of his, and when he’s back to normal, then. . . .”
“Then what, slayer?” Spike shot back irritably. “All your mates and Giles will welcome him back with open arms? He murdered Ms Calendar and tortured Giles. That’s not something they’re going to forget. And now with that other slayer here, I just can’t trust any of them. I only came back here to finish my exams. After Friday, I’m gone.”
“I can tell Faith that Clem is uncomfortable around slayers,” Buffy hastily argued. “And that she should keep her distance. In fact, I’ll tell everyone that Clem is uncomfortable around all humans, so that will keep them all away. If you keep your dad locked up here in the apartment, nothing will happen.” She looked over at Clem. “You are nervous around humans and slayers, right?”
“No, but if you want me to say that, I will,” he replied back with a good-natured grin.
Buffy paused for a moment, slightly taken aback. It was an unusual occurrence for someone to immediately agree with her with an amiable disposition. Lately, everyone, including her friends had an argument, snide remark, and/or nasty attitude. It was a weird world where one of the more pleasant people to be around was a demon, who had a skin condition. It was clear why Spike picked him to act as his guardian. “Have you ever done anything evil at all?” she asked with curiosity.
Oh, I’ve done evil,” Clem said with a confident nod. “You wouldn’t want to know what evil I’ve done to kittens.”
“You’re right; I don’t,” Buffy said hastily, repressing the images of cruelties being done against cute kittens Okay, perhaps Clem did have a dark side.
“Let me get us some drinks,” Clem offered, standing up and heading for the kitchen.
“The only thing he does to kittens is gamble with them in poker games,” Spike whispered.
“In poker games? Why would he be gambling kittens?”
“Some demons consider them a delicacy.”
“Omygod! You mean, Clem eats kittens?” Buffy was horrified.
“Naw.” Spike waved a hand. “Not him, likes chicken wings and junk food too much to fill himself up with anything else. He’s my kind of bloke.”
“So, he really doesn’t do evil?”
“I told you; he cheats at cards. He may be a demon, but he truly doesn’t have a sinful bone in his body. He’s too laid-back for that.”
“Boy.” Buffy was thoughtful. “He’s the second demon I’ve met, who doesn’t do evil, yet Gwendolyn Post and Pete Clarner, who were human and should have been good, were into all types of darkness. So what’s up with that?”
**
June 12, 1998
“Life just totally sucks,” Buffy bitched as Spike pulled into his apartment’s parking lot. “And now you’re leaving, so I won’t even have anyone to complain to about how my life sucks.”
“What about your new slayer mate, Faith?” Spike was puzzled. He didn’t understand why Buffy was in such a glum mood, especially since it was Friday, and they had just finished their last exam for the school year. They were free again until September. “Or Willow, or Xander, or even Miss Cheerleader. Thought you had plenty of ears to listen to your woes.”
“News flash, Cordelia is dating Xander, so they’re into each other, too busy to pay attention to others. Willow is dating Oz, ditto for them, which leaves Faith, and Faith. . . .” Buffy trailed off.
“Faith what?” Spike slid out from the driver’s seat. “What’s wrong with Faithy?”
“The girl’s not stable.” Grabbing her purse, Buffy followed Spike out of the car and began walking to his apartment. “But Giles can’t see that. Thinks she’s Ms. Perfect-Slayer.”
“Is there really something wrong with her, or are you just having a case of the green-eyed monster? Maybe this Faith is a better slayer than you.”
“Ha!” Buffy was not amused. “I can spin circles around Faith. She’s a slugger, but I have more heart and better technique.”
“Well, if Giles thinks she’s perfect, then maybe your more heart and better technique are just figments of your imagination,” Spike replied cruelly, as he unlocked the front door.
“Spike!” Buffy was outraged. It seemed that he too had turned on her. “How can you. . . ?” Shaking with anger, she turned abruptly and headed for the car.
Instantly contrite, Spike followed her. “Buffy,” he appeased. “I didn’t mean anything; I just, I just. . . .”
“Just what?” Buffy spun around, not caring that he could see the tears streaming down her face. “Too busy feeling sorry for yourself? I know everything’s the shits for you with your dad being, being, well, not himself, but I’ve been only supportive and helpful, and now not only do you abandon me, but you have to insult me on top of it.”
“I’m sor. . . .” Spike began his apology, when Clem stuck his head out the door. “Guys, I’ve got chicken wings, potato skins, and an onion blossom. Figured you’d be hungry after a tough day of exams, but hey, no more school for a couple of months, so time to celebrate.”
“Sorry,” Spike mouthed, as Buffy wiped her eyes,
“Great, Clem.” She pasted on a bright smile, as she walked around Spike toward the apartment.
“Gee.” Clem immediately noticed Buffy’s tears. “Exams go that bad?”
**
“So you’re saying that Faith isn’t playing with a full deck because she pounded a vampire to death.” Leg swinging over the arm of a kitchenette’s chair, Spike gnawed on a chicken wing. “Love, she is a slayer. Isn’t that what she’s supposed to do?”
“No, yes,” Buffy paused, taking a deep breath. She had had this same argument with Giles earlier in the day, and had received a similar response: Faith was only doing her job; she was a plucky fighter, who was just focused on her slaying. . .unlike her. Buffy had heard Giles’ unspoken thought. “It’s, it’s. . . .”
“Like she’s not totally in control,” Clem broke-in, as he reached for another potato skin.
“That’s it!” Buffy said excitedly. At that moment she could have kissed Clem. It seemed that he was the only one who understood her doubts about Faith. “She wasn’t in control, and she almost got us both killed.”
“O-kay.” Spike threw his chicken bone on a paper plate in the middle of the table. “Girl’s young and inexperienced; maybe all she needs is to mature a bit, but I guess such an attitude could not only get her killed, but anyone who was with her. She a danger, glad you warned me.”
“What are you worried about? You’re leaving Sunnydale; there won’t be any times where you’ll have to be fighting side-by-side with Faith.” Head resting in the palm of her hands, Buffy became gloomy again. For a short period, the pleasure of eating fat and cholesterol-laden food had risen her spirits, but now reality sunk back in. Her best friend and fighting partner was leaving her.
“What you need, pet is a holiday.”
“Holiday?” Buffy misunderstood. “The closest holiday is July fourth, and yeah, the fireworks are nice, but it’s not the best of holidays, no presents.”
“Not a holiday,” Spike exclaimed. “A-a, what do you yanks call it, oh yeah, a vacation. You need to get away from Sunnydale, your ragging mom, your ragging watcher, balmy Faith, and the rest of the tiresome Scoobies. Come to LA with us,” he cajoled. “You’ve lived there, so you could show me around, and since there isn’t anymore school, Clem here will not be doing any nagging, since his only rules are attend school and pass your classes. Right, mate.” He looked over at the demon, who shook his head in agreement.
“Oh, wait, there is one rule I would have if Buffy stays with us,” Clem said sternly. “No hanky-panky between you two. Buffy’s mother will be entrusting her in my care, and I would take that very seriously. Also, I pretty sure that your father wouldn’t want you to be, to be. . . .” He twirled a finger at Spike.
“We get the picture.” Spike kept his eyes firmly on Clem, not daring to look in Buffy’s direction. “No snogging, not that we would ever. . . .” He risked a quick glance at Buffy, whose face looked as stunned as he felt. “Besides,” he continued uncomfortably. “She’s seeing someone now, Scott, Scott. . . .” He groped his memory, trying to remember Scott’s last name.
“Hope,” Buffy said helpfully. “But we’re not seeing each other anymore. I guess he wasn’t that interested.”
“Really?” Spike was out of the loop. “That was fast because before I left for LA, the stupid prat was always hanging around us, you.”
“That was then; this is now.” Buffy sighed. Another reason why she was so down in the dumps. She had liked Scott and had hoped for a few more dates at least.
“Vacation it is then, love. Sleeping in, lying on the beach, shopping, movies, rented videos, no curfew, and if, if you really feel the need, we can slap around a few nasties. LA’s full of them you know.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Buffy sighed. “But my mom would never agree, and Giles probably wouldn‘t like me to be gone for an such extended time.”
“Giles can make do with his perfect-Faith, and Clem here will give your mum a ring,” Spike continued to try and sway her. “He can be very convincing.”
“Okay, couldn’t hurt.” Buffy shrugged, thoughtful. “Maybe she’ll surprise me and give permission, especially if you. . . .” She glanced over at Clem. “Give her that no hanky-panky speech.”
****
Part 2
Standing in her kitchen making introductions, Buffy began to have serious misgivings about presenting her mother to a demon. She wondered how she allowed Spike to talk her into this.
“This is my mother, ahem, uh, Joyce, Joyce Summers,” Buffy stammered out as she looked back and forth between her mom and Clem. “And Joyce, I mean mom, this is Clement, Clement. . . .” It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know his last name.
“Call me Clem,” the demon broke-in with a friendly smile, and an extended hand.
Joyce took his hand hesitantly, despite her daughter’s warning that Spike’s new guardian had a generic skin disease and was disfigured, she was shocked by his appearance.
“You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Summers,” Clem said, a wide smile still on his face. “I’ll take good care of Buffy, after all. . . .” He leaned in slightly. “She is the Chosen One, and it would be catastrophic if something happened to her.”
“Chose. . .,” Joyce started, stunned. “You know? Buffy.” She turned to her daughter. “I understood that your identity as the Slayer was a secret. How is it that. . .?” Her eyes cut back to Clem.
“My father was a vampire, and Clem here is an old friend of his, so he knows all about, ahem,” Spike paused to clear his throat. “Demons, vamps, and the Slayer.”
Clem nodded his head vigorously in agreement.
“O-kay,” Joyce answered hesitantly. She still didn‘t know what to make of Clem. “But I’m not sure that Buffy should be staying with you and Spike in LA. I know they are supposedly just friends, but two teenagers of the opposite sex living under the same roof is a recipe for disaster.”
“Mom!” Buffy was appalled at her mother’s lack-of-trust and her candor in front of their guests.
“Already taken care of.” Clem was not fazed in the least by Joyce’s frankness. “Our apartment in LA has two floors; Buffy will sleep on the top floor, and Spike will be downstairs with me. And I’ve told them in no uncertain terms that anything inappropriate will be not be tolerated. But I think we have nothing to worry about. They just want to hang-out and enjoy the summer.”
“You think so?” Joyce was still torn but was finding Clem to be very convincing. “What kind of job do you have Mr. . . .Clem? I mean, how available are you to monitor their activities?”
“At the moment, I’m only working part-time, so I’ll be ever vigilant,” Clem reassured her. “They’ll be no hanky-panky while I’m on the job.”
Buffy had to stifle a giggle, as Spike poked her with his elbow; Clem had taken her seriously about giving the no hanky-panky speech.
“We-ll, you do seem very trust-worthy.” Joyce was half-convinced, which made Buffy’s heart soar. Maybe she would get a wonderful, lay-on-the-beach-hang-out-with-Spike vacation after all. “I guess it would be okay, but. . . .” She looked at both Buffy and Clem. “I want daily reports from both of you.”
“Not a problem.”
“Of course, mom,” Buffy and Clem spoke simultaneously. “Come on, guys.” Buffy couldn’t believe her luck but now was in a hurry to leave before her mom had second thoughts. “Help me pack, and then we can. . . .”
“Oh, Clem doesn’t want to help you pack, honey,” Joyce interrupted. “And I’d like to discuss this matter a bit more with him.”
Oh, boy! That was the last thing Buffy wanted, her mother conversing with a demon about her. She opened her mouth, brain working furiously to think up a good excuse for getting Clem out of the room, when Spike pulled her out of the kitchen.
“Your mum agreed,” he whispered feverishly. “Don’t botch it up.”
My mother is entertaining a demon in her kitchen,” Buffy whispered back, as Spike hustled her up the stairs toward her bedroom.
“So.”
“So? So when was the last time your mother entertained a demon in her,” Buffy cut herself off, immediately realizing her faux pas.
“Two and a half years ago,” Spike answered matter-of-factly. “And it went fine, just like the conversation between your mum and Clem will go fine. The man is not an idiot.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Buffy agreed, calming herself. “In fact, I’m beginning to see that despite his looks, Clem is quite a charmer. Is he some kind of alluring demon?”
**
Two hours later Buffy will still packing, while Spike grumbled and bitched at her.
“Bloody hell, slayer! You’re going to LA for two bleedin’ weeks, not Outer Mongolia for two years. What the soddin’ hell do you need eight pairs of shoes for?”
“Actually, I was thinking that might not be enough,” she replied, as Spike threw his head back with a groan. “Because I need flip-flops for the beach, tennis for walking, my fighting boots if we decide to do some slaying, casual shoes for the movies, dress-up shoes if we decide to go dancing, sandals if it gets really hot, actually I need two pairs of sandals, no make that thre. . . .”
“You know your mum is downstairs with Clem all this time, thought you weren’t comfortable with them socializing?”
“Oh, they’re okay.” Buffy waved a hand dismissively. Her attitude had gone through a complete turnabout regarding Clem. An hour ago, she and Spike had gone to the kitchen with the excuse of getting a couple of cokes and found her mom serving Clem hot chocolate with marshmallows, a sure sign that her mom was really taken with the demon.
“Anyway, where was I?” Buffy asked, as she looked around her room, where heaps of clothes were scattered around, while Spike heaved a huge sigh.
“Why don’t we go and buy about five large trunks and just pack your whole closet,” he began when the doorbell rang and a someone started pounding on the front door.
Exchanging looks, both Spike and Buffy instinctively knew that such pounding probably meant trouble. Both headed for the stairs, and were half-way down, when Joyce opened the front door to a nearly hysterical Cordelia and an upset Oz, although as usual no emotion showed on his stoic face.
“Thank God you’re here!” Cordelia immediately exclaimed stepping into the house and staring up at Buffy. “We were supposed to meet Xander and Willow at the school for a double date. They never showed, and now they’re missing!”
“We called at Xander’s and Willow’s house and were told that both of them had left for the school a few hours ago,” Oz informed them calmly. “We checked the school, the Bronze, and the coffee shop, but no sign of either of them.”
“And the science room was a mess,” Cordy added. “It looked like Willow was doing some weird science and then was interrupted. Oh my God!” A horrible thought occurred to her. “Maybe Willow was messing with her magic tricks again; maybe she turned Xander into something ishy!”
“It does look there was a fight,” Oz said, contributing more helpful information. “But there wasn’t any blood.”
“Were they kidnapped? Or did they just run?“ Buffy thought out loud. “Or maybe. . . .”
“You're having too many ors, pick one!” Cordelia didn’t like any of Buffy’s scenarios.
“I guess we better go to the school and take a look,” Spike suggested to Buffy. “And see if we find any clues.”
“Right,” Buffy agreed. “In the meantime, you guys,” she addressed Cordelia and Oz. “Need to find Giles, okay? He's camping at the clearing in Breaker's Woods. Faith is with him.”
“What?”
“Excuse me!’
“Bloody hell!”
Her friends turned to stare at her.
It took a moment for Buffy to realize what they were all thinking. “Geez, they’re at a Watcher’s Retreat, and one of the main items of discussion is the future of Faith. And since Faith didn’t want to miss out on having a say so, she tagged along.” Buffy looked first at Spike, then Cordelia and Oz. “Get your minds out of the gutter.”
“Can’t help it; it’s attached to my body, and that’s where my body is,” Spike quipped back, while Oz got back to business.
“Yeah, I know the spot.” He shook his head. “But it's like a forty-five minute drive.”
“Then you better motor,” Buffy told him, as she glanced over at her mother, who was getting that worried-but-trying-not-to-show-it look. “It will be okay; we’ll find Willow and Xander, and maybe they’ll even still get their double date,” she said, trying to be comforting. “Come on, Clem, you can help us search.”
“I don’t know, Buffy.” Clem was staring at Joyce doubtfully. “I should probably stay here with your mom and keep her company. She looks like she could use someone to lean on right now.”
“What a wonderful idea!” Joyce quickly agreed. As usual, faced with the realistic truth that her daughter, as the slayer was put in dangerous situations, she had trouble coping. A supportive, friendly person like Clem would be a big help, especially since he knew that her daughter was the Chosen One, and she could talk about it with him. “You go on honey, I’ll be fine here with Clem.”
Buffy opened her mouth to protest, but again Spike hustled her out of the house before she could put up a fuss.
“Right then, off we go,” he said, as he pushed Buffy out the front door.
“Spike!” Buffy resisted, stopping their progress on the front porch. “I don’t mind Clem and my mother socializing when I’m in the house with them, but I don’t like the idea of them being together when I’m not there.”
“How many times do I have to bloody tell you?” Spike grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to his car. “Clem wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head, in fact, if anything were to happen, he’d probably protect your mum.”
“Probably?” Buffy questioned, but didn’t argue anymore as Spike shoved her into the car.
From her house to school, it was a fifteen to twenty minute drive, but Spike made it in ten, as he sped through the streets and squealed into the school’s parking lot. Running into the school, they made their way to the science room, where the scene that greeted them was just how Oz and Cordelia had described it.
“Doesn’t look good, Buffy,” Spike observed, as he studied the broken glass, overturned furniture, and general mess. “Someone took them.”
“Yeah, but we’re going to get them back,” Buffy said with a steely voice. As far as she was concerned, anyone or anything, who threatened a loved one or a friend was toast. Turning she marched out of the science room to the library, and Giles’ weapon supply; she planned to arm herself well.
As they entered the library, the phone began to ring, causing Buffy to break into a run, making a mad dash for it.
“Why are you bothering? It’s probably a wrong number,” Spike protested.
“It could be Xander or Willow. They would expect Oz and Cordy to be here looking for them.” Picking up the phone, Buffy held her breath in hope, but instead of any of her friends, it was Clem.
“Buffy? You better get back here fast. There’s some crazy ass vamp outside the house, shouting for you. It’s really upset your mother.”
Dropping the phone, Buffy turned to Spike. “We gotta go.”
**
“Slayer! Are you there yet”
The shouting was accompanied by a loud pounding on the door, that could be clearly heard all the way into the kitchen. After each hard knock, Joyce would visibly jump; her nerves were stretched tight and about to snap.
“Mom!” Buffy came barreling in the back door with Spike at her heels. “Are you alright?” she asked with concern.
“Of course,” Joyce lied, making an effort to give her daughter a weak smile. “It just that, that man, vampire outside is so obnoxious; his language is quite, quite,” she trailed off. “Anyway, thank God for Clem here. He talked to the vampire and then called you immediately.”
“He said he wouldn’t leave until he spoke with you face-to-face,” Clem said as he patted Joyce’s shoulder. “His name is Penn, and he’s pretty sloshed, so he’s not making a whole lot of sense. Something about a Chaos Demon, Drusilla leaving him, Willow, and a love spell.”
“Bloody hell!” Spike muttered, as he quickly put two and two together. “All of this because the ponce’s girlfriend chucked him.”
“Really,” Buffy concurred. “And here we all hoped those crazy kids would make it work. Okay, let’s go talk to Mr. Loser.” She threw one more quick, worried look over at her mother, but Clem was solicitously taking her arm and helping her up. At that moment, Buffy took back all doubts and reservations she had about the demon.
Moving into the hallway, Buffy wrenched the front door open, cutting Penn off in mid-pound. “Okay, I’m here talking to you in the flesh, now what’s your deal?”
“You need to help me, Slayer. Your witch friend is going to work a little magic for me, a love spell, and when she’s finished, then I’ll be satisfied, and will leave town without causing any more trouble.”
“So you’re the one, who took Willow.” Buffy folded her arms across her chest, her face grim. “And Xander?”
“Him, too, and if you don’t help me, you’ll never see your friends alive.”
Penn’s threat caused Joyce to let out a small gasp, as she grabbed Clem for support.
“Alright!” Buffy pushed down the urge to pull out a stake and drive it into the vamp’s heart. “What exactly do you want from me?”
“An escort,” Penn said. “Your witch friend needs a few supplies before she can cast the spell, but word is out that the mayor has his goon squad after me. I don’t dare show my face around too much, so you’re going to accompany me to the Magic Shop. After that I’ll take you to your friends, where the witch will cast her spell, and then I’ll be out of your hair. Oh, and if you want. . . .” He glared over at Spike. “The traitor can tag along.”
“Fine,” Buffy agreed reluctantly. “But why would the mayor be sending his goon squad. . . .” She used Penn’s words. “After you? And why are you be afraid of a human security team?”
“Human! Ha! That pissant, Lenny is leading them.”
Lenny? Buffy immediately recognized the name. “Give me a minute,” she told Penn, as she rudely slammed the door in his face. Stepping into the living room, she talked softly. “Isn’t Lenny one of your dad’s former Lieutenants?” she asked Spike.
“Yeah.” Spike nodded his head. “Dangerous bugger.”
“So how is it that the mayor of Sunnydale has vampires working for him?”
“Oh the mayor has a lot of vampires and other demons on his payroll,” Clem spoke up. “Talk is that he pays well, so every demon in town is trying to find a way in.”
“He does?” Buffy was bewildered as she looked at Spike, who had the same baffled expression on his face that she had.
“Oh yeah,” Clem pronounced solemnly. “A regular army of vamps and demons. Rumor has it that he’s a worshipper of darkness and has aspirations of becoming a pure demon, but I say that’s all nonsense. What human could ever hope to become a pure demon?”
“Ok-ay.” Buffy mulled over the mayor situation. Another mystery to be solved. “Well, first thing’s first. Let’s take care of Penn, and then we’ll worry about the mayor. Ready?” She looked at Spike.
“Yeah, let’s get the stupid git his love spell.”
**
An hour later Buffy, Spike, Penn, and a minion were leaving the magic shop, with Penn and companion each carrying a bag of potion ingredients. The hour had been basically unpleasant, as Buffy, Spike, and Penn had spent it arguing and insulting each other with Buffy deriding Penn as a shell-of-a-loser, Penn accusing Spike of sleeping with the enemy, and Spike calling Penn every derogatory slang term (British) he knew.
“Okay, Penn, we got the stuff. Where Are They?” Buffy asked. So far, by some miracle their quest had gone smoothly, but she knew that could change in a hurry.
Unfortunately, Penn was rather enjoying his position of being able to have the Slayer and William doing his bidding, so he was in no rush to end things. In fact, this was the first enjoyment he had in a long time. “What’s your hurry?”
“My hurry is my intense desire to get you out of my life because why do I think that you’re going to be attracting trouble soon.”
“I'll be out of your life in a few short hours,” Penn assured her casually. “No trouble at all.”
Turning the corner the foursome ran straight into a large group of vamps and demons.
The leader of the pack was the large vampire, Lenny.
Sighing, Buffy could only look over at Spike and with a roll of the eyes, she said, “No trouble at all.”
**
Holed up in the Magic Shop, Buffy, Spike, and Penn were all armed with chair legs and bottles of holy water, their eyes trained on the front door. An army of vamps and demons had forced their retreat back to the shop and were now pounding their way in.
“Bloody hell!” Spike gasped out between breaths. They had had quite a battle out on the streets and had held their own against the mass, but even he, the slayer, and another childe of the infamous Angelus couldn’t hope to win when they were outnumbered five to one.
“This is quite a kick, isn’t it?” Penn grinned widely. “Reminds me of the old days, facing down a mob.”
“God, I really do hate you!” Buffy said through gritted teeth, barely able to believe her ears. They were facing certain death, and the idiot vamp was enjoying himself.
“Told you he was a prat,” Spike muttered out of the side of his mouth, as both he and Buffy tightened their grips on the chair legs. The door and the bookcase they had shoved in front of the big picture window were beginning to sway. They would be over run in moments.
But as suddenly as it started, the hammering on the magic shop’s entrances stopped. A flash of peaceful silence, and then the sounds of battle could be heard, snarls, growls, yells, and yelps of pain.
Bewildered, Buffy, Spike, and Penn exchanged puzzled looks, and it took another moment before they could work up the nerve to peek outside. Spike was first, as he pushed the shop’s drapes aside an inch to look out.
“Fuckin’ Hell! he exclaimed, as he turned, shoved the bookcase a couple of feet so he could squeeze through and was out the door before Buffy could stop him.
“Spike!” she shouted, as she quickly followed him out of the shop. “Spike, what are you. . . ?” she trailed off, at the sight that greeted her.
Barefoot, bare chested, fangs out, it was the Scourge of Europe, still wearing a chain on one arm, as he dispatched the mayor’s army, many to dust, others running for their lives.
“Sire!” Spike yelled as he grabbed a vamp in front of him, breaking his neck. “Sire!” he yelled again, working his way to Angel.
“William.” Demon visage in place, Angel turned toward his son, as the vamp he had by the throat disappeared in a cloud of dust. “William, my Childe,” he choked out, as he fell to his knees, seizing Spike around the waist, blood tears running down his cheeks.
****