Two Ladies of Quality
Author's Website: http://www.angelfire.com/rebellion/riani1/
Feedback: riani1@yahoo.com
The deadline is almost on them. The Scoobies are on the run, and other people have their own ideas on how all this should work out--Rated R for violence, etc.
Midnight on Revello Drive, all the respectable people were asleep. Not surprisingly, the Summers house was brightly lit. Really, it was something of a wonder that the neighbors hadn't gotten up a petition for the Slayer and her family to pull up stakes and move elsewhere.
Spike wished for a cigarette as he did another circuit around the house. He was supposed to be in stealth mode, and a glowing cigarette tip would give away his position. Inside the house, Red was setting wards and considering magical options. It kept her mind off her girl lying confused and lost in hospital, at least. Spike wished he had something to distract his mind. Ripper and the Slayer had been gone for almost two hours, and Spike disliked the idea of that pair being together without some sort of buffer between them.
He hopped the neighbor's backyard fence and scouted the area for signs of enemy activity. Nothing moving but himself and a couple of intelligent dogs cowering in their kennels away from the darker predator prowling through their territory. No time for games, though. He headed back to the house.
The argument inside was audible to vampire ears out on the walk. Joyce was taking exception to the idea of leaving. Spike let himself in, smiling a little at the confirmation of his invitation.
"I agree," Joyce was saying in the kitchen. "Taking Dawn away is a good idea. But I would just slow you down."
"Mom," Dawn said a little hysterically, "we're not going to leave you. Not where Glory can find you."
"She's right, Mrs. Summers," Willow added. "It has to be all of us."
"I don't know," Joyce started.
"I do," Spike cut her off as he stepped into the kitchen. "No one gets left behind. I'll carry you out to the car and strap you in myself if I have to."
Joyce glared at him. "You're not being sensible."
"No, we're not." He looked at Willow. "Any word from the Slayer?"
"Not yet. But Xander and Anya will be here soon."
Dawn looked around, counting people. "There won't be room for everybody."
"I'm assuming that's where Slayer and Ripper have gone," Spike said, fishing out his cigarettes. "Finding bigger transport."
Dawn yanked the cigarette package out of his hand. "You can't smoke in here! We've got a recovering woman in here."
"Oh, yeah, right, sorry." He grimaced at the self-satisfied nod Dawn gave him. Every now and then he was hit with these twinges of 'I'm a vampire, dammit, why am I nursemaiding this bunch of meals on feet?'
The knock on the door distracted all of them. Spike glanced at Willow, who nodded, then he headed to the front of the house. Xander and Anya waited on the front porch. Spike opened the door, glanced up and down the street, then gestured them in.
Xander hesitated, glaring. "And why the hell are you on door duty? Where is everybody?"
"Slayer left me here to watch Niblet and her mum," Spike answered with a smirk. "Everybody's in the kitchen--except for Slayer and Ripper. They headed off a couple of hours ago."
Anya blinked. "Together?"
Spike shrugged, then looked over at Xander's car, parked on the street. "How reliable is that piece of junk?"
Xander bristled. "It is not a--well, maybe it is. But it gets me to work and back every day. Why?"
"Road trip, whelp, and we've got too many people for Joyce's vehicle."
"I hope I've got a job when I come back," Xander sighed.
"When?" Spike said softly. Xander glared at him but didn't have a good answer.
Anya stared down the street. "What in the world is that?"
An old school bus rolled down Revello Drive with its lights off and coasted to a stop in front of the Summers house. The door creaked open and Buffy hopped out. Giles sat in the driver's seat.
"Good, you're here," Buffy said to Xander and Anya as they all met on the walk. "We can leave as soon as everybody's ready."
"Leave for where?" Xander asked.
"And for how long?" Anya added. "How long am I going to have to leave the store closed?"
"I don't know," Buffy said. "As for where--I don't know. Giles says he knows a place."
"Giles," Xander repeated. "And we're trusting Giles now because ...?"
"Because he's what we've got," she snapped. "Have you two got everything you'll need for a couple of days?" Anya gestured at the duffle bags on the porch, and Buffy nodded. "Let's get started packing, then." She turned towards the house but pulled up at finding Spike behind her.
"So how'd your little trip with Ripper go?" Spike asked.
"We got a vehicle, it went. Are Mom and Dawn ready to go?"
"Your mum is saying we should leave her because she'll only slow us down."
"Damn it," Buffy muttered, and she headed for the house.
Spike met Xander's eyes and raised an eyebrow. Xander nodded and followed Buffy into the house. Spike headed towards the bus.
Anya looked back and forth in disbelief. "I'm not carrying these!" she yelled, gesturing at the duffle bags.
Giles climbed down from the bus and leaned against the side. "Are they still running around and arguing with each other?" he asked Spike.
"Pretty much." Spike looked at the bus. "Nice vehicle. Lots of windows. No enclosed spaces to hide from the sun."
"I've got cans of black spray paint, we can cover some of the windows."
"And where are we going? Slayer said you know a place. What kind of place?"
Giles smiled a little. "A safe place. You'll have to trust me."
Spike started to snarl, but noise at the house attracted his attention. Xander was carrying his and Anya's bags to the bus.
"Buffy's packing and ignoring all arguments," he said. "I think her mom may have finally admitted that there's no stopping the Slayer." He looked over the bus. "Field trip flashbacks, yig."
"At least there are no hyenas, this time," Giles said.
Xander did not smile back. "No, but we've got two vampires. I'm afraid my vote's with the hyenas."
"Can you drive this?" Giles asked, ignoring Xander's hostility. "Come daybreak, Spike and I won't be able to drive."
Glancing in at the driver's seat, Xander nodded. "I can manage it. You two going to be hiding under the seats?"
"Not likely," Spike said. He nudged Giles. "Show me these paint cans. Might as well do that now."
In the house, Buffy was single-mindedly packing things for herself, Dawn, and Joyce. Willow followed her silently from room to room, only speaking when Buffy opened the drawer in Joyce's dresser that held sweaters.
"Are we going to be gone long enough to need winter clothes, Buffy?" she said softly.
Buffy froze, hands wrapped around a forest green cashmere sweater. She blinked for several seconds, then slowly let go of the sweater and straightened. "Right. Over-reacting. It's just-- we've got to get stuff together, we've got to get out of here while we can."
Willow went over to her and put her hands on Buffy's shoulders. "We will. But we don't need too much stuff, do we?"
"No. You're right, we don't." Buffy looked at the duffle bag on the bed that she'd been packing and laughed uneasily. "But at least Mom would have a good work suit with her." She ran her hands through her hair. "Don't have time for this, got to get ready to go."
Willow shook her just a little. "Buffy, calm down! When you get all panicky, I get all panicky, and I don't need panicky right now, OK?"
"I'm not panicky! I'm just--" She took a deep breath. "I have to do something. Glory could be coming down the street right now, and--"
"I know, but--you've got to hold it together, please? We need you to hold it together so we don't fly apart."
Buffy closed her eyes. "Willow, I've only got so much holding it together left. You're going to have to hold on for yourselves here."
"I know." Willow hugged Buffy tightly. "But you've always been better at this than the rest of us."
Buffy hugged back. "Fibber."
After a few more moments, Willow pulled away. "I've got to go to the dorm, get stuff for Tara and me. I'll be back as quick as I can."
"You're not going alone! Take Xander or--or somebody."
Willow started to protest, then nodded and went. Buffy repacked the duffle bag with sensible things and slung it on her shoulder. She headed to Dawn's room to return some of the more impractical items, like dress shoes and a fancy blouse. She found Dawn curled up on her bed, clutching her Teddy bear.
Buffy started to scold Dawn for dawdling, but her sister's scared eyes changed her mind. "You can take that with you, if you want. I don't think anyone would care."
"I remember when I got Bear," Dawn whispered. "I was seven and had my tonsils out. Dad brought Bear to the hospital for me. Those monks thought of everything. I'm not going to survive this, am I."
"What? Dawn, what are you saying?" Buffy dropped the duffle bag and sat on the bed. "Of course you're going to survive this, that's why we're doing all this. Glory's going to miss that deadline, and you won't have anything else to worry about."
"But maybe--I was made to hide the Key. Once that deadline passes, the Key is useless. I'm useless. Maybe those monks just made me strong enough to last until the deadline, and after that there won't be any reason for me to exist any more."
Buffy remembered being Dawn's age, railing against the fates that had made her a Slayer, wondering if she was destined to have any kind of life other than the one foreordained for her. But she'd never had reason to doubt her own physical existence. Fourteen years of memories notwithstanding, Dawn's true lifespan covered mere months. Born for a single purpose, much like being a Slayer, with no clear idea if there was a future to look forward to. Much like a Slayer.
Buffy reached out and pulled Dawn towards her, resting her forehead against her sister's. "I don't know, Dawnie. But for as long you live, understand that I love you and I will die before I let anyone hurt you." She held the embrace for as long as she dared, then pulled free. "OK?" Dawn shrugged. Buffy pulled the duffle bag over and held it open. "You could put Bear in here, no one would mind."
"Are you taking Mr. Gordo?" Dawn asked suspiciously.
"Um, well, no--but I am taking Mr. Pointy!"
"Work stuff doesn't count." Dawn hesitated, then pushed Bear into the bag. "He makes a good pillow, if nothing else."
"Sure. Oh, here, your fancy-schmancy slutty shoes that Mom doesn't know you own. I don't know why I packed them, but I guess we can use the room for other things."
"Thanks." Dawn peeked into the bag. "Who are you trying to impress with the black lace undies?" Buffy smacked her with a pillow, then went back to her room to put back certain things of her own.
***
Once again Xander felt a little stab of jealousy at the college lifestyle as he followed Willow into her dorm. Past midnight on a school/work night, and there were dozens of people up and about with not a care in the world beyond a good time. Granted, he was up past midnight himself on a work night, but he was deeply involved in saving the world--again. And despite the message he'd left on his boss' answering machine about yet another family emergency, he didn't like the odds of his still having gainful employment after this latest adventure played itself out.
Willow gave him a tired smile as she unlocked her dorm room door. "I'm so glad you're around, Xander. You're dependable." A pair of drunken young men wearing only their boxers suddenly dashed out of a neighboring room, laughing madly as they ran down the hallway. Willow glared after them. "Unlike some."
Xander watched the guys run. "Yeah, I'm the dependable one."
Willow didn't dawdle as she gathered clothing and toiletries for a few days. She spent more time at the bookcase, checking various volumes.
"What are you looking for?" Xander asked.
"Bindings, reversing and changing, sharing energy, that kind of stuff. Giles said there might be a way to get Tara back from Glory."
"And you believe him why?"
Willow stared at him in confusion. "Why would he lie?"
"Because he's a vampire, and vampires like to play with people's brains before they play with the rest of the person?"
"It makes no sense for Giles to lie about something like this," Willow said, going back to the books. "There's no benefit to him if this doesn't work." She stood up, two volumes in her hands. "Let's go. Next stop the hospital."
"Will, visiting hours are over."
"Oh, we're not visiting, we're releasing."
Xander stared at her, seeing her calm, cheerful, determined expression. The pleasant version of the resolve face. The one that gave you the option of cooperating willingly. "We can pick up Tara in the morning, that's the plan, no one's going to leave her."
"I know," Willow said very reasonably, "but if we go get her now, we don't have to waste time waiting for the hospital people. We can just get straight out of Dodge." She picked up the two backpacks she'd filled and headed for the door. "Come on."
Xander hesitated, then he remembered that Willow had a copy of his car keys. He had no doubts that she'd leave him to walk back to Buffy's house while she went to the hospital by herself. "OK, OK, wait up."
He stayed just a little bit behind her as she strolled through the front doors of the hospital. He wasn't sure if it was magic or just her serene confidence that caused the security guards to ignore them. She led the way to the elevators and up to the floor where Glory's victims were being cared for. This time Xander was sure there was some kind of cloaking spell involved, because none of the nurses or staff on the floor paid the slightest attention to them and Willow was careful to not be in anyone's way.
The ward where the brain sucked people were was dimly lit, but no one was sleeping. All the patients were restrained, and they tugged fretfully at their bonds, whispering anxious nonsense.
"There are so many of them," Willow whispered.
"I guess she's a big eater," Xander shrugged. Willow gave him a dirty, if distracted, look.
The patients didn't seem to notice the two people creeping among them. Xander tried not to look at them too closely. They brought back dim memories of his grandfather, who had spent the last few years of his life slouched in a chair, muttering bits of old conversations and calling people by the wrong name. For some reason he had always called Xander "Charlie", and older Xander wished he had asked who Charlie was. Grandpa had liked Charlie.
Tara was in the end bed, restrained like the others, though care had been taken to protect her broken hand. Willow whispered nasty things under her breath as she went to her lover. "Tara?" she said softly. "It's me."
A beautiful smile went across Tara's face. "The sun," she breathed in wonder. "The sun's come out. And the moon," she added when she saw Xander.
Xander raised an eyebrow at Willow, who shrugged impatiently. "Sweetie, we're going to go on a trip," she said as she began unfastening the straps holding Tara's arms. She nudged Xander and nodded towards the straps over Tara's legs. "We're all going on a trip and I'm going to take care of you and I'm going to make you better."
When he was finished with the leg straps, Xander checked the small lockers next to the bed for Tara's belongings. "Here's her clothes. You want to try getting her out of that gown and into something less noticeable?"
"No one's going to see us," Willow said with certainty. "But she'll need her shoes. Here, you hold her, I'll put them on her."
Tara smiled at Xander as he took her good arm and kept her from wobbling. "The trees go gold in the fall," she told him. "But not in the spring."
"No, not in the spring," he agreed, thinking of his Grandpa.
Tara was wobbly on her feet but came along docilely as Willow led her to the door.
"What about pain pills and such for her hand and everything?" Xander asked as he scouted the area for anything of Tara's they might have missed.
"I have some herbs and such that will work. They'll keep her calm, too, in case ..." Willow ran her fingers through Tara's hair. "Maybe we'll have time to wash your hair before we go, baby. And then I can brush it out for you so it won't be so tangly."
"Pink blue," Tara smiled, leaning her head on Willow's shoulder. "Sound of cinnamon."
"Sure, honey. Come on."
Xander followed the two women, still watching for nurses and guards. He'd never stolen anyone from a hospital before. The patients still didn't seem to care what was happening around them, didn't seem to notice that one of their own was being spirited away. The man in the bed nearest the door, though, went still as Tara and Willow passed, then he turned his head to look at Xander.
"The Key," he said. "Destroy the Key. The Beast, the glorious one, it's almost time."
"We know," Xander said, rattled. "Trust me, we know."
"Xander, come on," Willow whispered from the door. Without a backwards glance, Xander left the whispers and their possible meanings behind.
***
Giles looked at his watch impatiently. "Granted, I've watched Buffy prepare for major outings before, so I know how she is on organization, but, really ..."
Spike was leaning against the side of the bus, one foot up and flat on the vehicle. He seemed quite calm and collected as he smoked, until one saw the way the foot against the bus was nervously tapping. "I'm not going back in there, mate. Joyce is still arguing that she should stay, Slayer keeps picking things up and wondering if she should bring them, and Niblet and Demon Girl are hiding in the corners. What's taking Red and Harris so long?"
"I don't know. Spike, one of us is just going to have to go in there, grab things, and bring them out and stow them on the bus. And you're the one with the invitation."
"Ripper, please, they're all just waiting for a common target to stick his head in there--"
They both looked over in relief as Xander's car pulled up in the driveway. "Isn't that ..." Giles started.
Spike laughed. "Good on you, Red. Leave no one behind."
Willow, climbing out of the back seat, blushed but smiled. "I was just wanting to save time. Now we can go." Tugging gently, she pulled Tara out of the car to stand beside her. Tara stared at the two vampires anxiously but cuddled into Willow's shoulder quietly.
Giles looked pointedly at Xander. "Do not give me that look, Giles," Xander snapped, pulling bags from the trunk. "Just--don't." He carried duffles and backpacks onto the bus. "And neither of you fall over yourselves saying 'Thank you, Xander and Willow, for remembering,' but--" He gestured with a small cooler. "Vampire snack packs."
"Oh, yes, of course," Giles blinked. "Thank you, Xander and Willow."
"You're welcome," Willow said. "And you can't blame him for my getting Tara, I threatened him with the resolve face. And it's too late now, anyway. Where is everybody?"
Spike and Giles looked at each other. "They're, um, still ..." Giles started.
"They're still packing," Spike finished.
"Still?" Willow protested. "But I thought we had to get going. Why haven't you gone in and hurried them along?" Spike and Giles looked each other again.
"Geez," Xander muttered as he jogged down the bus steps. "Creatures of the night, they hide. I'll go get them. If nothing else, I can haul Anya out of there bodily."
"She likes the caveman act, huh?" Spike asked. He chuckled at the evil look Xander gave him as he headed up the walk.
Still, Xander took a deep breath before opening the door of Chez Slayer. Not-quite-raised voices came from the kitchen, but Dawn was sitting on the couch, hunched together as if she didn't want to be noticed. She looked up at Xander anxiously.
"We're back," he said with as reassuring a smile as he could manage. "Time to load 'em up and head 'em out."
Dawn looked toward the kitchen nervously. "Mom's saying she shouldn't go again, that she'll only slow us down."
"Well, I don't know how, it's not like we're making a run for it cross country on foot. Get on the bus, I'll make sure she comes along."
Anya came out of the kitchen. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her unhappy thinking look on her face. "You're back."
"I'm back. What's up?"
"Why is Joyce being so stubborn? She knows it's not safe if she stays. I mean, we're going to go get Tara, who will slow us down as much as a woman recovering from a stroke, but no one's suggesting Tara stay behind. Doesn't Joyce know that everybody will just worry about her if she's not with us?"
Xander hugged her. "It's something good moms do, not want to be a burden. She thinks Buffy has enough to do without worrying about protecting a sick mom."
"That's dumb. Buffy will worry anyway, she's in there saying that. But Joyce keeps being stupid and noble."
"We're not leaving her, so it's not going to be a problem."
"Well, it's not like we can just drag her out of here--" She tilted her head to study the look on Xander's face, then smiled.
"I said nothing about dragging!" Xander protested.
"Xander," Dawn gasped, "you're not going to just grab my mom and--and carry her off."
"No, I'm not. Your mom's a smart woman, she'll see the logic of our arguments."
"And if she doesn't?" Dawn sounded far less outraged than one might expect at the idea of her mother being carried out bodily.
"Hopefully it won't come to that. I mean, we've already got Tara on board, so Mrs. Summers can't really argue."
"Tara?" Anya frowned. "We have to go get Tara."
"Actually, no. Willow talked me into going and getting her just now. Tara's on the bus."
Dawn squeaked and looked towards the door, then, guiltily, towards the kitchen.
"Go on," Xander said. "The more people already on the bus, the more argument we have for getting a move on."
Anya leaned up to kiss him. "You're a brave man, Xander Harris. I like that about you. Come on, Dawn." She took Dawn's arm and led her out the door.
Xander squared his shoulders and headed for the kitchen, trying not to wonder why Anya considered arguing with Buffy and Dawn's Mom something requiring courage.
"Evenin', folks," he said as he walked into the kitchen. "Everybody's on board, we're just waiting on the Slayer and her mom."
Buffy looked sternly at her mother. "I've got all your stuff packed, mom. Time to go."
Joyce sighed. "Buffy, be sensible--"
Xander went to her side. "Is there anything I can carry for you, Mrs. Summers? Maybe I can give you a hand getting out to the bus?" His smile was polite but firm.
Buffy gaped at him, then grinned. Joyce stared at him. "Xander, you're not suggesting--"
"No, really, no trouble at all. I'd be delighted to give you all the help you need getting out there."
There was a flash of the old "I'm the Mom of the Slayer and I took an axe to Spike once and I can take you on, mister" spirit in her eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
"With the greatest of respect and consideration, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Summers, but, yes, I would." And he was trying very hard not to grin.
Joyce looked at Buffy. "Are you just going to sit there and let him . . . loom over me like this?"
"Mom, you always said that people should only pick on people their own size. He's bigger than me."
Xander wallowed in happy machismo for a moment. "Mrs. Summers, I'd be happy to just lend you a balancing arm, but, one way or another, you're coming along."
Joyce stared at the kitchen counter for several second, biting her lip and blinking rapidly. "All right," she said gruffly. She reached for a napkin and blew her nose. "Not nice to gang up on a helpless middle-aged lady."
"No, ma'am," Buffy agreed, fighting a teary grin of her own.
Joyce glared at the walker in the corner. "We'd best take that thing, I suppose."
Buffy hopped off the stool, went to the walker, and folded it neatly, tucking it under one arm. "I'll go get the bags and meet you on the bus."
Xander waited patiently till Joyce had herself under control, then held out an arm for her to balance on as she got to her feet. "What lights do you need turned off and should I make sure the stove's not on or anything?"
"You've done this family trip thing before, I see."
"Once," he said briefly. "It was memorable. But is there anything you need to take care of before we go?"
"Um, yes. Could you help me upstairs, please?"
After that interlude, Xander escorted her around the house, making sure everything was secured for an absence of several days. All doors were locked, all kitchen appliances were off, all lights were off or on timers. As they headed out the front door, Joyce paused and looked at Xander seriously. "Would you really have made me go?"
"Yes, ma'am, I would."
"Why?"
Xander glanced at the bus to make sure everyone was occupied. "Because I am not going to see that look of crazy worry on Buffy's face again if there's anything at all I can do about it." He smiled at Joyce. "Sorry."
She patted his arm. "You are a very nice man, Xander Harris. Let's go."
But just as they reached the bus, there was a sudden exodus from the vehicle, led by Dawn. "Me first! I have a key! Which is only appropriate." She ran past Xander and Joyce towards the house.
"Excuse me?" Joyce said, turning to watch.
Xander looked at the bus. Giles sat in the driver's seat, leaning on the wheel and very slowly beating his head against it. "What is it?"
Buffy bounced down the steps. "Willow asked if everyone had gone before we left and none of us had and we'll be right back."
Anya followed. "We won't be long." She kissed Xander's cheek in passing.
"We all do remember that we are on the run for our lives, don't we?" came an aggrieved voice from the driver's seat.
"I can't run on a full bladder, Giles," Willow said as she led Tara down the steps. "Be right back."
Spike trailed the exodus down the steps. "No," Xander said, "you cannot be headed back into the house."
"Don't be stupid," Spike sneered. "Need a hand, love?" he asked Joyce.
"I have one, but thank you." She looked at the bus steps, though, and frowned.
"Right," Spike nodded. "Harris, hop on and catch."
"Excuse me?" Joyce protested. Xander shrugged and ran up the steps.
"Mind your head," Spike grinned, then he carefully put his hands on Joyce's waist and lifted her up the steps. Xander caught her flailing hands and helped steady her as she got her footing on the bus floor. Spike followed up the steps. "Right, then. Get the 'Wait Til The Last Minute' girls back on board, and we're out of here."
"Finally," Giles muttered. "It's just as well Willow brought Tara, this has taken much longer than I expected." He glanced at the sky. "It'll be dawn in a few hours."
Spike patted him on the shoulder. "That's why we painted over those windows in back."
Xander looked out the windows. "Hey, they're coming back, that was quick."
"A female record," Giles muttered, but he fired up the engine. "All aboard, ladies. Xander, Spike, sit down, please."
Everyone piled on, and Dawn dropped next to Joyce on the front seat. "And we turned off the bathroom light," she said, "and the door's locked and everything secure."
"Thank you, dear."
Buffy was the last to board. She paused on the step and looked around the neighborhood. For all the field trip foolishness, she hadn't forgotten that they were, as Giles said, on the run for their lives. She didn't see anyone watching, but that meant little. So long as they were free and on the move, they were safe.
She climbed on board and pushed the handle that closed the door. "I guess we're ready," she told Giles.
"Finally." He put the bus in gear and pulled away from the curb.
Buffy looked over everyone. Willow and Tara shared a seat, and Tara was lying down with her head in Willow's lap. Xander was in the seat behind Anya and hanging over her seat back, watching everything. Spike had taken the spot behind Joyce and Dawn for now, leaning back against the window and scanning everyone as well. He caught Buffy watching him and nodded briefly before continuing his observations.
Sighing she dropped into the front seat behind Giles. "It's too late to worry about whether this is the right thing to do, right?"
"I'm afraid so, Buffy. But for what it's worth, I think this is the wisest strategy."
"Where are we going?"
"North for now, then east. I know a place in the mountains several hours away. Get some sleep while you can, Spike and I will keep watch."
"Sleep, sure."
"Try, at least."
"Fine, fine. By the way, you should turn the headlights on. I don't want to explain all of us to the cops."
"Oh, yes, right, I forgot."
She stayed where she was, hanging over the railing behind him and watching the road as they ran away.
***
Nearly three a.m., and the traffic was fairly light on the freeway north. Giles drove easily and not quite fast enough to attract attention.
Spike bent down the backs of two of the bus' bench seats, making uneven but adequate sleeping surfaces. Joyce made a wry comment about road trips to concerts, but she stretched out gratefully with Dawn at her side. On the other side of the aisle, Willow settled Tara against her. Anya curled up in the corner of her seat and went efficiently to sleep.
Buffy made her way carefully up the aisle, checking on people. She smiled a little at the sight of Dawn curled up under Spike's duster.
A couple of seats back, Xander still hung over the back of Anya's seat, one arm reaching down so he could lightly stroke her hair.
Buffy sat down next to him. "Field trip from hell, huh?"
"I said that when I saw this thing. I thought the deal with graduation was that you never had to ride in one of these again." His smile was tired, though, and the humor reached nowhere near his eyes.
She rubbed his shoulder. "You should get some sleep, you're going to be driving in a few hours. It's kind of neat. Me and Willow and--and the others, we do the mystic thingies, but when it comes to real life stuff, we always yell for you."
"Yeah," he said. "I'm Average Normal Guy, Mr. Everyday."
"And we need him," Buffy said, disturbed by the bitterness she heard. "I mean, do you want me to drive?"
His smile answered. "Not at all."
"Then get some sleep."
"I don't think I can, not with people up and moving around." He nodded towards the back of the bus.
The last few windows on either side had been spray painted black. Spike crouched among the rear seats, rearranging baggage.
Buffy patted Xander's arm. "I'll go tell him to keep it down." She frowned at the look of distrust Xander sent towards Spike. "It's only Spike, he's harmless."
"Yeah, harmless. Look, Buffy . . ."
He went silent. With every appearance of unconcern, Spike settled back on his heels, as if he was only stretching his back. But from under lowered eyelids he was watching Xander. The scarred eyebrow quirked when he saw Xander looking back, and his faint smile dared Xander to tell what he knew. But an eye-flick towards Willow was reminder enough about the unwilling bargain.
"I don't trust him," Xander finally said, still looking back at Spike. "I've got my reasons even beyond him being a vampire. Helpless is a great act for somebody just waiting for you to turn your back."
"He can't do anything with the chip," Buffy said just a little impatiently. "You know that."
"Yeah, the chip." Xander twitched at the knowing smirk that went across Spike's face before the vampire went back to whatever work he was on. "But what about him?" He nodded towards the driver's seat.
"Look, he wants to stop Glory as much as the rest of us--"
"And after?"
"Huh?"
Xander took Buffy's hand in both of his. "I understand that he doesn't want Glory to win. I'm all the way with that. But what if we win? Somehow we always manage to pull it off, stop the apocalypse. When the sun rises the day after tomorrow and Glory doesn't get her hands on Dawn in time to open that portal, what then? All world-saving deals with vampires will be done, all bets are off. What do we do about Giles the vampire then?"
Buffy stared over his shoulder, out the window at the passing darkness. An off-ramp with attendant all-night gas stations and quiki-marts went by. There were cars parked in front of those mundane little places, and people with their own three a.m. business going in and out. She wondered if there were any vampires over there.
"I don't know," she finally said softly.
"Except you do know. He's a vampire, no soul, no chip, doing his vampire stuff in the night. You're the Vampire Slayer."
She looked to the front of the bus. Giles had only one hand on the wheel; the other was dangling out the partially open window next to him. He glanced up at the rear view mirror, and Buffy realized with a start that the mirror was angled correctly for him to see the interior of the bus. But she couldn't see him, just like she wouldn't see any vampire.
Xander looked at the driver's seat and sighed. "Maybe, if you'd done it when you first found out, it wouldn't have been so bad. But you're getting used to him this way. And he's being very careful not to let anybody see anything too weird. He knows as long as he can make us think of him the way he was that he's pretty safe. He knows you're not very good hurting the people you care about."
"You're wrong," she said, still staring at the back of Giles' head. "I'm very good at it." She shook herself. "Get some sleep, Xander. We can't pull this off if you collapse on us."
He nodded, then kissed the fingers of the hand he still held. "You, too."
"Sure."
They both knew it was a lie, but he accepted it and let her go. He reached for his jacket, shoved it between his head and the window, and closed his eyes.
Spike didn't look up from his work as Buffy sat down in a seat near him. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Building a crypt of sorts away from the sun. Making room to lie down under the seats." He looked at his hands. "Filthy floors on this thing."
"It's what we could get. But why under the seats? Aren't the windows being black enough?"
"They'll do for me, pet, but Ripper's another matter. Even if he's not in any danger, ambient sunlight will be painful for him."
"That's not fair."
"Perks of survival, love," he grinned. "We get tougher the older we get. You find out from him where we're going yet?"
"Not yet. He just said some old place in the mountains. I can ask him again, but he just says he'll pull over if I say 'Are we there yet?' again."
Spike shook his head, then gave her a serious look. "Are you planning on getting any sleep between now and the big day?"
"Probably not."
"That's stupid, Buffy."
She shrugged. "It's my thing. Speaking of which, you shuffling around is keeping Xander up. We need him to get some sleep before he drives. You almost done?"
He surveyed the space he'd been creating. "It'll do." He climbed off the floor as Buffy worked her way back to the front of the bus. He followed her down the aisle, then settled onto Xander's seat, nudging the feet off.
Xander jerked from his amazing-almost-sleep state. "What the hell--" He glowered at his seat mate. "Get the hell away from me."
"I'm just checking up on you, pet." He smiled winningly. "Seeing as so much depends on you and all." He glanced across the way at Willow, who snored faintly. "Wise move, not telling about the chip."
"I am going to tell her, either outright or living long enough after you try to kill me to gasp it out with my last breath."
"'To the last, I grapple with thee,'"Spike quoted with a smile. "'From Hell's heart, I stab at thee. For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.'"
Xander frowned. "Why the hell are you quoting 'Wrath of Khan' at me?"
"Philistine." He made a show of snuggling down in the seat and putting his knee up against the seatback in front of him. "Go to sleep, Xander."
"Not with you right there. Get the hell away from me."
"Why so shy? Wouldn't be the first time I've watched you sleeping."
"Maybe so, but then I didn't worry about if I'd wake up to find fangs in my throat. Get your own seat."
With a put-upon sigh, Spike moved to the seat behind Xander. "Satisfied?"
"No."
"Good."
***
The thing with being the Slayer, you were given all these heightened senses and endurance to help you fight the monsters. The fact that these senses were useful in sneaking into the house without your mother noticing or sneaking out of training while your Watcher was still lecturing about how previous Slayers showed ever so much more respect for the process than you did was apparently not considered worth mentioning. The ability to go without sleep, though, was also very useful.
Buffy slipped into the seat behind Giles and leaned on the railing. Tiredness nibbled on the edges of her consciousness, but it was more like the possibility that she might want another double-fudge brownie as opposed to the need for a mochacchino before class.
"You should sleep," Giles said as he steered the bus into the passing lane around a heavily laden flatbed semi truck. "The rest of them are out."
From this angle, she could see the interior of the bus from the driver's mirror. Willow and Tara were still curled up next to each other, looking awfully sweet together. Across the aisle, Dawn and her mother snored faintly in harmony. Xander was slumped low in his seat, though he twitched more than a person who was asleep should do. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Spike, in the seat behind Xander, turning to look out the window with a very poorly managed attempt at innocence. She waited till he looked her way, then she frowned at him. With a smirk, Spike settled down in his own seat and closed his eyes.
"I'm not that sleepy," she said, turning around to stare out the windshield. She faintly saw the outline of the driver's seat in the glass. The empty driver's seat.
"Even the Slayer needs sleep."
"I hit the snooze button on my alarm clock four times this morning, I got lots." She frowned. "This morning? Or yesterday morning?"
"We are quite on the wrong side of midnight for it to be anything but yesterday morning. This morning is the event that will happen in a few more hours."
"We'll need to trade drivers soon, then."
"The sky has barely turned color, I'm fine for quite a while yet."
Buffy looked to the east, where the mountains would be if there were more light. "How hard is it going to be to find where we're going?"
Giles sighed. "Not that easy. I hope Xander can read a map."
"We can all help navigate."
"Yes, getting hopelessly lost will make it harder for Glory to find us, I imagine. If we don't know where we ourselves are, no one else should be able to, either."
Buffy smacked him in the arm automatically. "We're not that bad." She scooted over so she could see the side of his face and, yes, he was grinning. "Meany."
She was silent for a long time, until Giles swung over into the lane for an offramp. "Los Padres National Forest" was on the sign that flashed by.
"Camping," she observed. "Yay."
"City girl."
"And proud of it, Mr. Tweed." She reviewed what little California geography she remembered from boring classes. Family vacations--when they'd occurred--had involved hotels and beaches and shopping, not woods and mountains and insects. She got a blank about anything regarding Los Padres except "trees--mountains--don't bother".
They exited the freeway and got onto a four-lane highway headed east. Sporting goods stores and outfitters gathered among the usual roadside collection of fast food and gas.
"A couple of more hours," Giles said, "and I'll find a place where we can pull over and stretch our legs and whatnot."
"Whatnot. Another word for potty break?"
"If you will."
She turned around to study the interior of the bus again. All the sleepers were still sleeping. From somewhere--possibly while rummaging through baggage--Spike had found a CD player and headphones. He was nodding his head along with some upbeat rhythm, occasionally mouthing the words.
"You're fidgeting," Giles said.
"Not good at just sitting and doing nothing, you know that." She turned again to look out the windshield. Traffic was beginning to appear, people headed off on their commutes, early-morning deliveries. People with a world they felt safe in, a world that maybe only had one day of existence left to it. Her stomach knotted as she realized how fragile it all was. All that stood between those innocent people out there was one vampire Slayer and her busload of weary fighters, her friends and family. And allies.
"The Watchers' Council," she said.
Giles jumped a little. "What about them?"
"What do you think they know about Glory that they would have told us about if we hadn't thrown them out?"
He was silent a moment. "Not as much as they wanted us to believe, I would imagine, nor as useful. History, most likely, stray tales from dimensional travelers, possibly some writings from the monks who created Dawn or from the Knights of Byzantium."
"And you don't think that would help?"
"From what I've gathered about the Knights, their writings seem to boil down to 'Glory evil, smash Key.' Those monks were no better: 'Run, hide, it's Her.'"
"Then we didn't do the wrong thing by turning the Council away?"
Giles hesitated for quite a while. "I--don't completely trust my recollection of that meeting. The main impression that I have is that if they were willing to put a price tag on information to save the world, then what else do they believe they can make deals on? First your cooperation, then your obedience, then your soul. And then your life. We did not make a mistake."
She nodded. "It's just--I'd hate to think I hadn't done everything I could."
"It isn't in you."
"Huh?"
"I don't believe you are capable of not doing everything in your power to stop a threat."
From the angle of his head, he was looking at her in the mirror. But when she looked up to smile back at him, the mirror was empty. He brought his head back down quickly and focused silently on the road.
***
Glorificus stood on the sidewalk in front of the Summers house and studied it thoughtfully in the darkness just before dawn. "Well, if you *like* Arts & Crafts I suppose it's OK. But I think my closet is bigger." She waved her hands, and her minions scurried forward. "Make sure nobody leaves, guys, OK? We're finishing this thing tonight."
The lock only lasted a couple of seconds. The small robed figures poured into the house and spread out, searching for the occupants. Glory sauntered in through the front door.
"And the decor, really, would just a little bit of sparkly and velvet have killed them?" She settled herself on the couch and waited happily for the shouts of outrage to begin from the occupants of the house. And waited. Busy footsteps going back and forth upstairs was all the sound she heard. "Um, guys? Where are my victims? I expect some cowering mortals in front of me, tout suite."
Dreg came down the stairs slowly. "I'm sorry, most holy, but the house is empty. There's no one here. I think they must have left quickly, there are clothes laying all about."
"Left?" Glory jumped to her feet. "Left? How dare they run away!" She stomped upstairs to do her own investigation. She looked into all the bedrooms and peered into the closets. "Frump," she muttered, turning away from Joyce's clothes. "All right, now this is annoying. Where the heck did they go?"
"The car is still in the driveway, delectableness," another minion volunteered. "The mother has been ill. Someone must have helped them."
She waved Dreg over. "Send somebody over to the boy and Anyanka's place, see if they're there. And check to see where the red-headed witch is."
"At once, most holy."
She checked the other bedrooms again, looking at the disarranged belongings. The minions poked around, looking for any clues as to where everyone had gone. Glory was looking through Buffy's make-up drawer and sniffing the various perfumes when Dreg came running in, carrying a notebook.
"Most holy, most holy, look at this!"
"Does it tell me where they've gone or who the Key is?" she asked petulantly.
Dreg bounced. "Yes, it does."
Glory stared at him, then yanked the notebook out of his hands.
"'Journal of Dawn Summers,'" she read. "'I'm so sick of it all being my fault. Running, hiding, hurting, crying, it's all my fault. They were probably happy before I got here. Some big evil would show up, Buffy would kick its butt, then they'd go party. Mom wasn't sick, Giles wasn't a vampire--'" Glory glared at Dreg. "Why am I reading the self-centered whinings of a teenaged girl?"
"Keep going, Glorificus, you'll see."
She sighed. "'If I thought it would do any good, I'd give myself to Glory and be done with it. Tara got hurt because Glory thought she was me. I don't want to see that anymore, other people hurt because I'm . . . the damned . . .'" Glory looked up, smiling. "'Key.'" She leaned down and hugged Dreg until he gasped in pain and breathlessness. "Dreg, I could kiss you, except, yuck. It's her, that little girl is the Key!"
"But how?" Dreg wheezed.
"I don't know how! I don't care! We catch her, we'll squeeze it out of her--gently though. It's tomorrow morning she needs to bleed. And even if she isn't the Key, we'll grab her and torture her until the Slayer coughs up the real one."
She paused and looked around the room again, frowning at the signs of quick departure.
"Perhaps the neighbors know where they've gone?" Dreg said. "We shall bring them to you that you may interrogate them."
Glory perked up at the thought, then shook her head. "There might be a quicker way, but hold that thought. Where are the Knights?"
"The Knights, splendid and pretty one?"
"The Knights! Gregor and the boys! I haven't seen hide nor hair of them for the past few days. We find the Knights, I bet we find the Key. And we'd better find her first. Round 'em up and let's go, there's nothing here."
Dreg scurried out to collect the others. On her way to the door, Glory spotted a pair of Buffy's strappy high-heeled sandals on the floor. "Oh, pretty. And just my color." When she compared them to her feet, however, the shoes were too small. "Hmph. Probably her little sister's anyway. Little girl shoes." She dropped them, kicked them under the bed, and followed Dreg.
***
Five o'clock in the morning. The towns along the highway were appealing to the outdoorsmen and women who were headed into Los Padres National Forest. It wasn't one of the busier parks, so the kitsch-level wasn't quite as horrible as it was around Yosemite or Yellowstone. The sky to the east had lightened to the point that it was possible to tell the mountains from the darkness, and Giles felt a creeping nervousness that said it was time to turn over the wheel and get under cover.
Just ahead was a gas station with attached restaurant and store. Several cars were parked in front even at this early hour. A quick check of the gas gauge showed it was time to stop.
Giles glanced into the driver's mirror. Buffy was still behind him, but her head rested on the railing and her eyes were closed. "Buffy," he said softly.
She sat up straight. "I'm awake, Mom." She blinked, looked around, then turned to check the interior of the bus and its occupants.
"I'm pulling in up ahead," Giles said. "We need more petrol, and the rest of you need a break."
Buffy stretched with audible popping sounds. "Oh, yeah." She looked out the front window as Giles turned the bus into the parking lot. "Starting to get light."
"Yes." He knew he sounded abrupt but felt he was justified.
The bump of the wheels going over the small rise into the parking lot jostled the sleepers. Groans and noises of "Huh?" soon followed. Giles found a parking spot in the RV section of the lot.
Xander blinked hard as he peered out the windows. "Where are we?"
"On our way into Los Padres National Forest," Giles answered. "Just about time to switch drivers, too."
"Coffee," Xander blinked. "Food, hot food. Bathroom. Not in that order."
"I'm sure the diner will have everything you need."
Xander reached over the seat in front of him to shake Anya's shoulder. "Come on, honey, time to get up."
"Uh uh," she muttered, curling in tighter on herself. "Have good day at work, love you, night night."
Fighting a smile, he wobbled to his feet and went around to convince her to get up.
Willow leaned over and kissed Tara's forehead. "Good morning, sunshine," she whispered.
Tara blinked for several seconds, staring at Willow in what looked like confusion, then she smiled and relaxed. "Green rocks with speckles."
"Is that a good thing?" She helped Tara sit up. Tara whimpered when she tried to use her damaged hand for balance. "Oh, yeah, that probably hurts, let me get you something." She reached under the seat for her bag of herbal remedies.
"Potty," Tara whimpered.
Willow sat up fast. "What was that?"
"Potty."
"Do you need to go potty?"
Tara thought a moment, then nodded once.
"You said potty. And meant it." Willow grinned at the others. "She said potty!" The others stared at her. "Which may not be as exciting for the rest of you as it is for me."
Buffy smiled. "It's OK, Will. We're all still asleep." She went over to Dawn and her mother. "Hey, sleepyheads. How do you feel?"
Dawn was sitting up, but her eyes were closed. As Buffy watched, her head began tilting forward, then jerked up. Joyce rolled over painfully and tried to sit up. Buffy took her arm and helped, reminding herself that Slayer strength was not always appropriate. Joyce got her legs over the edge of the seat and considered standing up.
"I think I'm going to need that darned walker," she sighed.
"Right," Buffy said. "I'll go get it." She turned and found it at her side, held by Spike, who had appeared with more than the usual vampire stealthiness. "Um--thanks."
"No problem." Spike retreated back up the aisle, leaving room for muddled humans to get to their feet.
Joyce unfolded the walker, then frowned at how awkward it would be to maneuver on the bus. "This isn't going to work."
"I'll help you off, Mom. Dawn, wake up, we're going to get some breakfast."
"Sleep," Dawn muttered, still with her eyes closed.
"Food."
Xander came down the aisle, guiding a wearily blinking Anya in front of him. "Do we have time for a real breakfast? Sitting down with pancakes and sausage and orange juice?"
"Probably--" Buffy glanced at Giles and saw him look out the windows to the east, a disturbed look on his face. "Do we?"
"If you don't dawdle."
"Dawdle? Over food?" Xander said. "I may not wait for the waitress to put it on the table."
Buffy and Xander got Joyce down the steps and leaning on her walker, then the group headed for the restaurant. The humans did, at least. Spike was already lighting up a cigarette as he climbed down the steps, and Giles got out to pace.
"What's got you so wound up?" Spike asked.
"Oh, not much. Sunrise is in an hour, and they're off having a leisurely meal." Giles glared at the eastern horizon.
"Relax, mate. We'll be on our way soon enough. Besides, I've rigged up a nice dark crypt under the seats in back."
"Lovely. Hiding under the seats. How dignified."
"I've hidden in worse. Me and Dru had to hide under a pile of corpses during World War I--or was it the second one? Well, it was France, and there were lots of corpses." Spike waited for Giles' new appreciation of gory vampire adventure stories to ask for more details--under the guise of old Watcher instincts, of course--but Giles was still staring at the horizon. He moved closer. "This is the closest you've been to the sun yet, isn't it."
Giles nodded silently.
"It won't be light enough to cause damage until the sun's really coming up, though you may feel a bit itchy. That wears off as you get older." He glanced towards the horizon himself. "But, yeah, you can feel it coming. Turns into a macho game, though, how long you can stand to be out in it."
"How close have you come to ..."
"Oh, I've gotten singed lots of times." He took a long drag on his cigarette. "Closest I've ever come to real damage, I was barely five years turned."
Giles finally looked away from the lightening sky. "You misjudged the time?"
"Was saving Angelus' poncy neck. Running up an alley to the carriage as the sun cleared the buildings. Would have finished me except the ponce was just that little bit tougher, he was able to get me into the carriage and get us out of there. I was weeks healing from the burns."
The analytical Watcher had possession now. "How old was he then?"
Spike ran the calculations in his head. "About the same age I am now. Huh. You never think of yourself as being the same age as your father." He shook his head, dismissing the thought. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're under cover in good time."
Giles nodded, careful not to show how grateful he was for the reassurance. "There is one other thing." He glanced around the parking lot. "I'm getting rather hungry."
Spike glanced toward the restaurant. The Scoobies had been seated at a table next to the window and looked out occasionally. "There's the stuff Red brought from the hospital."
Giles made a noise of disgust. "Back to baby food after having tried steak."
"Stake is what you'll get if Slayer finds out you had an attack of the munchies. Plus there's the whole I'm still supposed to be chipped thing."
Giles walked casually into a shadow of the bus cast by one of the parking lot lights. "They'll be quite a bit, yet. Odds are I could be back before they even notice I'm gone."
"This isn't the Hellmouth, Ripper. Most places in the world, people find a body, they make a lot of fuss. And if someone finds a body with its throat ripped out, even the Scoobies can make the logical leap towards one of the pair of vampires lounging about the area."
"When did you get this cautious? William the Bloody would have strolled over to that mini-van" he nodded at a family vehicle parked at the gas pumps "and drained the lot of them, then offered autographs to the gathered crowd."
Spike paused to smile at the mental picture, then shook himself. "Not with a Slayer sitting down to breakfast next to a window that looks out over the entire parking lot."
"Oh, yes, you would have, you'd have been thrilled at the opportunity for a good fight. Hell, you'd probably have gone after the mini-van in order to get the Slayer into the fight."
Tempting, tempting image. And a lovely way to announce his chip-free status. Positively Wagnerian in drama potential. If only ... "Yeah, I probably would. Except I don't know the area and it's too close to dawn to find a good bolthole, and--and here's the biggie--we've got work to do. You do remember Glory, don't you, Ripper? The slutgod you were going to send Dawn to hell for in order to stop?"
"Bugger," Giles muttered. "And that makes sense, worrying about Glory first, but ..." He looked towards the mini-van, where a toddler was wobbling along on chubby bare feet under the sleepy supervision of his mother.
"Fledges," Spike sighed as quietly as he could. "I never gave Dru this much trouble." Because Dru would have already been over there cooing about the luscious little baby and how adorable he was and how she longed to eat him up. Which was why Angelus kept both Dru and William on a short leash until William became old enough to have something approaching sense.
He went over to Giles and nudged him with his shoulder. "It's a lovely plan, Ripper, but we can't. Not now and not here. When this is all done and we're back in the 'Dale, we'll go out to the truckstop by the freeway and have a spree."
Giles finally sighed deeply and turned away. "We'll have to eat it cold. It's disgusting cold."
"I've got some whiskey to wash it down with."
The family with the mini-van climbed back into their vehicle and drove away, unaware of the predators that watched them leave.
The waitress in the diner, Brenda Ann, had an accent straight from the hills of Arkansas. Tara stared at her as she talked and pouted when she was gone. Everyone else was too tired to do more than eat and blink, though Xander blinked faster the more coffee he drank. They ate quickly, and Brenda Ann brought a lollipop for Tara when she brought the bill.
"We should get some stuff for the road," Buffy said after she paid the bill with her mother's credit card. "I don't know if there are going to be any stores where we're going."
"Road trip food, yeah," Xander said, bouncing slightly.
"And water and such." Buffy frowned. "I wish he'd told us we were headed into the wilderness."
Joyce maneuvered her way past a rotating rack of postcards. "Do we know where we're going yet?"
"Nope." Buffy spotted Giles in the general store portion of the business looking at maps. "Time we found out."
Giles glanced at his watch when he saw the others approaching. "That was quick."
"You said we were in a hurry," Buffy said. "So, maps."
"Yes, maps. Xander, how are you at map reading?"
Xander shrugged. "I was never a boy scout, but I've never gotten lost."
Buffy left the two of them going over the route and went to peruse groceries. Anya, apparently well conversant in Xander's tastes, was loading up on crunchy carb-laden things and power drinks. Joyce was tsking over prices but handing Dawn cartons of juice and milk.
"Not much in the way of solids," Buffy observed.
Joyce nodded to the other end of the cooler. "Did you see the price on the lunch meat? Tourist prices."
"Beggers and choosers, Mom. I don't think parking the bus at a grocery store is a good idea."
"Make Giles pay for it," Dawn said, balancing cartons. "He's dragging us out to the back of beyond." She lost control of a container of orange juice, but Spike appeared at her shoulder and caught the carton.
"Hand them over," he said, and Dawn gratefully passed over her awkward load.
"Do you know where we're going?" Joyce asked.
"Not a clue, love. I'm just hoping for buildings. I am not the wilderness sort."
"City boy," Dawn teased.
Buffy moved away, unsettled by how easy her mother and Dawn were with Spike. A pit bull on a leash was still a pit bull. Still, it was kind of nice to have a pit bull you could depend on to savage people you didn't like.
"How soon will we be ready?" Giles asked. Xander wandered over to Anya, still perusing the map.
Joyce pointed Dawn towards some packages of lunch meat. "I'm ready. Buffy, grab some of that water, please."
Buffy hefted one of the cases of bottled water. "I see all your shopping instincts are still in order."
The clerk at the counter was so delighted at the big order that she didn't even frown as Tara ran the fingers of her good hand through the windchimes hanging nearby. Willow untangled her fingers gently from a fragile ceramic chime. "When we get home, we'll get some to put in the window, ok?" Tara smiled and put her head on Willow's shoulder. Willow saw Buffy watching with a sad look, and she put on her resolve face. Buffy smiled and turned away to help carry groceries out to the bus.
Xander got behind the wheel and practiced maneuvering the bus around the parking lot, then over to the gas pumps to fill the tank. The rest wandered around the lot, taking a last opportunity to move around before continuing their journey. Spike strolled over to Dawn, pulled a package of batteries out of his coat pocket, and handed it to her. "Here. I ran down the ones in your CD player. Since when do you listen to The Clash?"
She palmed the batteries casually and tucked them into her own pocket. "Since I stole that CD from you. You think I'd pay money for that stuff?"
Spike snorted his amusement as he lit up a cigarette. Dawn glanced around to make sure no one was in easy eavesdropping range. "I was, um, watching you and Giles through the window while we were eating. The two of you seemed, well, close."
He studied her through the smoke. "What do you mean?"
Her blush would have lit up a room. "Well, what I mean is, you and him--he and you--are--have been . . . dammit, I'm a woman of the 21st century, I can deal."
He was half-curious as to how deep a flustered hole she could dig herself into but decided to spare her. "Niblet, you want to get past this point and say something that makes sense? And the answer is yes. Why?"
"Would you have killed him that night in the front yard?"
"I'd have put him down like a mad dog, Niblet."
"Even though the two of you are . . ."
"Yep." He couldn't help smiling at her inability to say the words. Not that he intended on giving her details about his sex life.
"That's--weird."
"The shagging, that's just what vampires do to pass the time. That and fight. But the Glory thing, that's business. Ripper knows how he thinks it should go, and he knows I disagree. I'm going to stop any plan that involves you getting hurt. Make no mistake, Niblet, he'd have killed me if it came to it that night at your house. I'd have killed him if there was no other way. Just business."
"Just to keep me from getting hurt? Why?"
"Don't be dim."
She looked down to hide her grin as she fingered the stolen batteries he'd given her.
***
As he piloted the big vehicle down the highway, Xander wondered if he needed a commercial driver's license to drive the bus if it wasn't being used as a commercial vehicle. Well, if the cops pulled him over to check his license, they'd have bigger problems with explaining the blacked out windows, the girl with the broken hand and the inability to form coherent sentences, and the obviously sick woman who should be home in her own bed. Plus the guys under the seats in the back. Maybe he could explain it as a field trip for an institution for the chronically weird.
Maybe Willow could do a Cops-Be-Gone spell or something.
The vampires hadn't gone into hiding just yet. Spike was lounging in the seat behind Dawn, arguing quietly with her over who caused what scratch on a CD. Giles perched nervously in one of the seats back in the blacked-out section, watching the lightening sky. Buffy went to sit in front of him.
"I think I speak for everyone here when I ask, Where are we going? Can we know now?"
He nodded distractedly. "Yes, certainly. We'll be taking some side roads before we reach the park itself. That will take us into the mountains, to a convent of St. Eugene."
Anya turned from her position in the seat behind Xander. "There are Eugenians in America? Since when?"
"Early 1800s, I believe. Their early records are spotty."
Joyce frowned. "I've never heard of a St. Eugene who had a monastic order."
"That's because he was a demon," Anya explained. "His followers mostly stay in the Pyrenees in Europe. I thought there was only the one monastery in France."
Giles shrugged. "I heard of them from a Brachen demon who came into the Magic Box late one night last summer. The convent is apparently a sanctuary for, well, esoteric folks of all species. It's become something of a waystation for creatures who mean no harm who are traveling through this area."
"Out here in the boonies?" Buffy asked. "I'd think they'd be more comfortable in cities."
"In LA and San Francisco they can hide from people, but the smaller cities are more difficult. Plus the Hellmouth discourages them from coming closer to the coast."
Spike looked suspicious. "Eugenians don't much like vampires. You think they'll let us in?"
Giles studied the back of the seat in front of him. "I visited them once or twice, before . . . I'm hoping they'll make an exception. If nothing else, if we cause no trouble they shouldn't object to us."
Xander snorted. "Trouble, like being chased by a hellgod?"
"I'm hoping the sanctuary aspect of the place will be more than just tradition. Aside from that, there is the problem of finding us." His frown became more pronounced. "It's quite late."
Spike glanced out the windshield.. The sky over the mountains ahead of them was definitely pink, tending towards sunny. "Right. Been lovely chatting, folks, Ripper and I are getting under cover now." He got out of his seat and headed into the back. Giles followed, and they slid under the seats to either side of the aisle. Four minutes later, the edge of the sun appeared through a gap in the mountains, sending sunlight into the bus.
Even in the darkness under the seats, Giles winced in pain at the increased brightness. Spike glanced at him, then slithered out of his duster. "Here." He tossed it over.
Giles made no pretense about pulling the duster over his head. He peered out under the edge. "This is bloody unfair. You're only under here to keep me company, aren't you."
Spike shrugged. "Till the sun gets a little higher, no telling how the direct light is going to come in. I'm under here for a bit yet." He managed not to snicker too loudly on the look on Giles' face. "Look, Ripper, I've been a vampire for a century and a quarter. You're not even three months' turned. Fledgling mortality rates are high for a reason."
"It's still unfair."
"Kids." Spike lost his grin. "I wish you'd told me it was the Eugenians we were headed for. Does this place have much contact with the mother house in France?"
"Occasional letters back and forth. Why?"
Spike studied the bottom of the seat above him. Several decades of hardened gum dotted the metal. "You know how Angelus was about convents and such. We spent a few months in France once, and we toured the Pyrenees so himself could make a religious pilgrimage of sorts."
"Angelus attacked the monastery of St. Eugene? When?"
"Before he got souled, of course. But we had a great deal of fun there one night, before one of their sorcerers drove us off. We didn't make a point of introducing ourselves--well, the poof did, but his ego was always bigger than his brain--but we might not want to say the words William the Bloody around our hosts."
"Lovely," Giles sighed. "Damn, this made a great deal more sense when I thought of it. At least we're moving. And there's less than twenty-four hours to go. If we can just make it past dawn tomorrow ..."
"Yeah. Just." ***
Glory placed her foot carefully on the ledge around her big bathtub to avoid the blood spatters. Gosh, but who would have thought a skinny pizza delivery guy would gush so much when he got his throat cut? Still, nearly all the blood landed in the tub and not on the walls. The spots on the floor would come off easily enough. She'd have to remember to have tile installed when she got home.
"Wave harder," she told Dreg, who stood next to her with a bundle of burning herbs. "I need to get a clear picture." She peered down into the pool of blood.
"You do remember that you're blocked from scrying out the Key yourself, don't you, your lusciousness?"
"Duh, I know the rules. But I bet I can find the Slayer, and where the Slayer is, the Key will be."
Images formed in the blood, but they were blurry. Wheels turning, a highway, but when Glory tried to focus on details, they faded off into a red mist.
"Stupid wimpy blood." She petulantly stabbed the body a few times with her ornate dagger. "Dreg, go get somebody else. That annoying woman across the hall with her yappy dog."
Dreg peered into the tub. "It hasn't clotted yet, most holy. Perhaps they're shielded from scrying."
"Maybe. I'll try for Gregor and his band of merry men." She ran the tip of the dagger through the still-liquid blood, clearing the images. "Come on, Greggy, show me that tattooed face."
The image appeared with depth and clarity, a man in armor surrounded by Knights of Byzantium. The man was studying a map as someone wearing a monk's robe instead of the typical armor pointed to a spot.
Glory reached down to push on the body in the tub, forcing out more blood. "Give me sound, fella, just a bit more."
The voice faded in. ". . . our scryers cannot see the Key itself, General, but they have shown that the Slayer and her entourage will be at this location at dawn tomorrow. That puts the Key far away from where the Beast needs it. The gate cannot be opened, and the world will be safe."
The general threw the map at an underling. "Our order does not exist to play hide and seek with the Beast, Brother Maynard. Our order exists to destroy the Key. When I asked you and the clerics three days ago to scrye the future so that we could pinpoint the Key's location at the crucial hour, it was not to check to see if the Slayer had tucked it away somewhere safe. It was so we could find it and destroy it. We have not traveled this long since then not to finish our holy mission. Tell the troops to saddle up, we must reach this convent of St. Eugene before tomorrow's dawn."
Glory leaned back and beamed in delight. "I love guys who give speeches. So, where's this convent?"
Dreg looked at the other minions, who all shook their heads. "I don't know, most glorious of gods."
"Hmph." She leaned down to poke the corpse again, but no more blood came out. "Go get Mrs. Hooper across the hall. Bring her dog, too. I've got a convent to find."
***
Anya proved an efficient navigator. The first side road off the highway passed a few farms and ranches. Dawn kept her nose plastered to the window, watching for horses; Willow distracted Tara by pointing out new lambs.
Buffy settled into Xander's old seat, careful not to trip over the duffle bag underneath. She leaned against the window and stared out at the scenery. A tractor pulled some piece of arcane farm machinery through a field as the driver waved at the passing bus. Vampires liked cities, Buffy mused. It must be nice to live where the night was full of cricket noises and frogs instead of screams and death.
She was thinking of the fireflies at her aunt's house as she drifted to sleep.
The jerk of the bus coming to a stop woke her. There were trees outside the window, and the sun was much higher. "What's wrong?"
Joyce grinned back over her shoulder. "Good morning, sleepy head. Bathroom break."
"Oh. Yeah. Good idea." Her bladder was awake and agreeing with the plan. She looked outside again. They were on a dirt road now, surrounded by forest instead of farms. "So. Bushes. Who remembers what poison ivy looks like?"
Dawn raised her hand. "I do! Campfire Girls!" She went still. "Or, you know, I . . ."
"I don't care how you know," Anya said. "So long as you know."
Xander pulled open the door. "So, ladies to the right, gentlemen to the left?" He and Anya left the bus.
Buffy started to follow, then went to the back. "Guys?"
Spike poked his head out from under the seat--on the opposite side from where Buffy remembered him bunking out at dawn. He raised his scarred eyebrow at her when she looked perplexed from one side of the bus to the other. "What?"
She gestured vaguely over her shoulder. "The rest of us--nature calls. Stretching our legs and--stuff. We won't be gone long."
Spike gave a smile that was more than a little pleased. "Thanks for telling us. We can go through everybody's bags now without being caught."
Buffy craned her neck, trying to locate Giles, checking under the seats on the other side of the aisle in case he and Spike had switched places.
"He's asleep," Spike said, almost moving to get in her way.
"What, and he has nightmares if he's all alone?"
He shrugged. "Didn't want him getting knocked around and out into the light, the way Harris does his kamikaze routine on these roads."
"Right." She studied him for a few moments, then straightened. "Be back in a bit."
"Right." Spike disappeared under the seats again.
In every lecture she'd ever heard, protectiveness was not high on the list of vampiric qualities. Just as well, or there'd be solicitous sires waiting over every fledgling's grave, making her job all the harder. So was it just a Spikey thing, that he stayed close to Giles, looking after him? Maybe it was part of what kept Spike with Dru all those years, maybe he just liked having someone to look after. Whatever it was, she was an idiot for ever allowing herself to think "that's kind of sweet" on the subject.
Business in the bushes was conducted quickly. Several napkins and tissues from Joyce's purse prevented the need for leaves and the identification of possible poison ivy.
"Boy," Willow said, "I hope we have a mom with us every time we're on the run." Tara tugged on her arm, pointing to several flowers on a nearby bush. "Yeah, those are pretty. Buffy, can we walk around a little? She might be a little less restless if we do."
"Probably not a bad idea. I'll go find Xander."
She found Xander checking the bus' tires and radiator. "How's it look, road warrior?"
"Tires are good, the thing seems to be holding up well." The look on his face contradicted his easy tone of voice. He glanced at the bus, then gestured for Buffy to follow him.
A couple of hundred feet down the road, around a curve that hid the bus, Xander stopped.
"How good is vampire hearing?" he asked. "Can they hear us here?"
Buffy glanced back down the road. "I don't think so. Not unless they were really trying. What don't you want them to hear?"
Xander stared at the tread patterns his boots made in the dirt surface of the road as he shuffled his feet. "The chip's out."
She almost said "what?", but all her breath had been knocked out. "When?" she whispered.
"Probably not too much after Giles got turned, I think."
"But--that's been weeks! He always swore--are you sure?"
Xander's smile was twisted. "Oh, yeah. I'm sure."
"What did he do?"
"I caught him playing with one of those Knights of Byzantium one night on patrol. We . . . chatted. I haven't told you before now because he threatened to go after Willow if I did."
"Why didn't he just kill you--no offense," she added quickly.
"None taken. And he said it was because we couldn't afford any distractions with Glory still around."
Buffy stared at the trees around them. At least this explained the odd feeling she'd gotten from Spike the last few weeks. He no longer held himself like a vampire who had to scrounge his food second-hand, who feared his natural prey instead of hunting them. The barely restrained rage and frustration had been replaced with a master predator's swagger and confidence.
Other realizations hit. "He's been in my house! He's visited my mom, he's been wandering around smirking at us and thinking about food."
Xander nodded. "He'd be starting on the buffet except for Glory."
"I trusted him to look after Mom and Dawn, and he's William the Bloody again, without the leash." She paused. "I trusted him."
Xander frowned. "Vampire without a chip, Buffy. Sworn lots of times to shishkebob our internal organs while we're still watching. You can't trust him."
"Except I did. If it was just about Glory, he wouldn't have stopped Giles hurting Dawn. He promised to look after Mom and Dawn."
"Only because he's trying to stay on your good side."
"And that's why he let Glory dig a hole in his skull?"
"It's just that we have the same enemy right now. Buffy, he's back. The Spike that blew into town, took over, wreaked havoc--"
Buffy grinned just a little. "Had his butt kicked multiple times by me . . ."
"Who's been killing for weeks now and laughing at us while we think he's still harmless . . ."
She nodded and stared at the dirt for several moments. "We still need his and Giles' help with this."
"Do we? I know where we're going, we know the plan is to just avoid Glory until dawn tomorrow. We've got them trapped in a contained location, we won't get a chance like this again."
He could be so ruthless, sometimes. So practical. Buffy remembered the hyena thing, and the moment she'd looked into Xander's eyes and seen the predator. The pack defender that still lived in her friend had seen a threat to his group and was calmly planning the destruction of that threat. And she couldn't deny he was right in his way.
"Not until we finish Glory," she finally said. "I can't risk losing allies when we're this close to finishing this. The two of them, their knowledge and their strength, they might make the difference."
Xander nodded in resignation. "And after?"
"Is after."
He lowered his voice, abruptly diffident. "If you don't want to deal with Giles, I could . . ."
She hoped her look of fond disbelief wasn't too offensive to a male ego. "I think it would be kind of hard to sneak up on a vampire who used to be a Watcher with a stake."
"Which is why I'd cheat. Crossbow, grenade--rocket launchers are always in fashion."
"And what about Spike? What would you do about him?" She frowned at the quick look of fear and dismay that went across his face.
"I would cheat harder," he said firmly. "Very much harder."
Buffy hugged him briefly. "We'll deal with that when we have to. Not now. We should get going." She took his arm and led the way back towards the bus. "How much farther?"
"Another thirty miles, maybe. I don't know how bad the roads will get or how hard it'll be to find them. But not much longer."
They came around the curve of the road to find everyone but Willow and Tara back on the bus. Tara was crouched down drawing in the dry dirt of the road.
Xander put a hand on Buffy's arm. "He was serious about going after Willow. Please be careful."
"I won't let him know I know. Though I'm not sure how," she added truthfully. "Hey, Will. What did she find?"
Willow blew an escaping strand of hair way from her nose. "Rocks. But she recognizes poison ivy and knows it's bad, so that's good." She crouched down next to Tara. "Come on, baby, time to get on the bus. Time to go."
Tara handed her a pebble. "The meadow blue water. Bright darkness and red." She straightened, then looked at Buffy. "Seeing and red. Not long now." She tugged on Willow's hand, pulling her towards the bus.
"Does that mean something?" Buffy asked Willow.
Willow shrugged. "I don't have the faintest idea. I'm coming, sweetie."
Buffy looked at Xander, who shrugged in turn. He gestured for her to precede him up the steps. "After you, m'lady. And tell Dawn if she suggests singing 'Hundred Bottles of Beer on the Wall' again, I might hand her over to Glory myself."
"I think I'd help." They shared one more concerned look, then reboarded the bus.
The last road to the convent was marked at the turnoff with a weathered wooden shrine shielding a statue of a figure in a hooded monk's robe holding a chalice. Anya hopped off the bus to investigate.
"It's St. Eugene all right," she called. "You can just make out the extra set of arms."
She climbed back on, and Xander put the bus in gear.
The new road was rough and narrow, forcing them to go slow. "Did anyone notice if this thing has a spare tire?" Xander asked as he nursed the bus across a wash-out filled with large rocks.
"Yes," came an English voice from the back.
"And a jack?"
There was silence from the back, and Anya shrugged. "If we wait till after dark, two vampires would make a good jack."
Xander laughed. "Vampires, no toolbox should be without one."
They opened several windows to let fresh, outdoorsy air in. Buffy leaned out for a better view of the passing trees and the mountains beyond.
"Mr. Bus Driver!" Willow yelled. "Buffy's sticking her head out the window!"
Buffy turned and glared. "Mom, Willow's a tattle-tale." She stuck her tongue out at Willow.
Willow pouted. "Buffy's being mean!"
Xander scowled into the driver's mirror. "If you kids don't settle down back there, I'm going to pull this bus over and make you all walk."
Dawn grinned. "Somebody's letting the power go to his head."
Joyce tried to look stern. "Buffy, don't be mean to Willow. Willow, no one likes a tattle-tale. Play nice, both of you."
The two put on their best innocent faces until she turned away, then they both stuck their tongues out at each other at the exact same moment, causing identical giggles. Tara gently touched the corner of Willow's smile, making Willow turn and hug her.
Buffy watched a moment, thinking only how nice they looked together, then she turned back to the scenery outside the window. The air was cool, smelling the way those pine-scented cleaners wanted you to think was outdoorsy. When she'd first arrived in Sunnydale, she'd thought that was clean air, especially after Los Angeles. At night in the cemeteries, away from the streets, she'd been able to smell the grass and the trees, but even then there was the underlay of the town- -and the death and the blood and the dust. It was surprising how long it took her to learn to hold her breath when a vampire went poof.
Another deep breath of the forest air dispelled that thought. Sunlight. She didn't get out in the sunlight enough anymore. And, boy, was it nice to look at something other than buildings and tombstones and monsters. There was even still snow on those mountains in the distance. When was the last time she'd been in snow? Oh. Yes. She blinked fast, dispelling more thoughts and memories, of a slow walk through a miraculous dawn, of cool fingers entwined with hers, of a tall figure that, despite all sense, made her feel safe.
Cool, clean air, smelling of trees, the sound of tires crunching over the dirt and rocks, snowy mountains in the distance--an armored figure on horseback a hundred yards away, watching the bus go by.
"Hey!"
Xander hit the brakes. "What!"
"No! Keep going, keep going!" Buffy ran to the back windows of the bus, which had not been painted over. "It's one of those Knights of Byzantium guys! He's out there, watching!"
"Here?" Giles said from under the seats. "That's impossible! They couldn't possibly have followed us, not if they're on horseback!"
Spike scrambled out from cover and went to the back window, shielding his face as well as he could. "Where?"
Buffy pointed. "Back there, by that big dead tree."
Spike squinted to see. "Can spot a mouse at a hundred yards in the dark," he muttered, "damned light makes it hard. Yeah, there he is. He's riding off. Do you see any others, pet?"
Buffy scanned the landscape. "I don't see anything. What was he doing?"
"Might have been a scout. But how the hell they could have found us--" A jarring pothole knocked him off balance. He caught himself against the window, then yanked his hand back, swearing.
"Are you all right?" Buffy asked.
"Yeah, yeah." He shook his hand, which was smoking just a little, then put a couple of fingers in his mouth. "Where the hell did the bastard go," he muttered, peering out the window.
Buffy stared at him. Would the old Spike, the pre-chip Spike, have dismissed a brush with sunlight so simply? Would that Spike have come on such a dangerous trip? But that Spike had come to her, his mortal enemy, in the first place to propose an alliance against Angelus.
A wise Slayer, one who had read and learned the handbook, would slip out that stake that was nestled in her sleeve and slam it into the back of the vampire who was paying more attention to what was outside the windows than to anything else, especially the Slayer at his back. It was a little insulting, being that dismissed Slayer. Sure, she wasn't supposed to know he was fully back in the game, but he didn't have to make such a point of the fact that he trusted her . . .
He looked over his shoulder and caught her watching him. He started to smirk, but it faded. "What?"
"Manchester United and dog racing, right? That's why you're here?"
He met her eyes easily. "No. You know why I'm here." He looked at her a moment longer, then headed back up the aisle. "It was one of those Knights all right, Ripper. How could they have tracked us?"
With much rustling and muttering, Giles sat up between the seats, wincing slightly at the brighter light. "They do have magical resources, but they're determinedly anti-technology. They couldn't possibly have kept up with us, even if they had known where we were going. And I only thought of it--" He glanced at his watch "--a bit over twelve hours ago."
Willow turned over the back of her seat to join the conversation. "There's divination, scrying. They might have read the future."
Giles frowned. "True divination requires a great deal of power."
"Could you have done it?" Buffy asked Willow, who thought a moment, then shrugged.
"Does it matter how they did it?" Spike said. "They're here, they're onto us. What do we do?"
Xander had been splitting his attention between the road and the debate. "Mark this down as a sure sign of apocalypse, but I agree with bleach-for-brains. What do we do?"
"How much farther?" Giles asked.
"According to the directions you gave me, another three miles."
Giles looked at Buffy. "I say we keep going. The place has walls, and the Knights may respect its sanctuary."
She shrugged. "I don't have any other ideas. We keep going, Xander." He nodded and put all his attention back on the road.
Willow frowned at Giles. "If this is holy ground, won't you and Spike have trouble?"
"I don't think so. It might be uncomfortable in their chapel, what with the crucifix and such, but the grounds themselves should be safe." He glanced at Spike for confirmation.
"Never stopped me," Spike said. "And the poof quite enjoyed strolling convent grounds. He'd challenge me to see if I could get as close the altar as he could." He remembered his audience. "Though that's probably not something that we want to discuss where we're going."
"No," Buffy agreed. "Probably not." She went back up to sit behind Dawn and her mother.
The sound of bells led the wandering Scoobies around the last curve in the road. A small valley opened up, with fields of crops filling most of the space and an old Spanish mission occupying the rocky area at the head of the valley. An olive grove shaded the buildings.
"Oh, this is pretty," Joyce said, looking out. "How peaceful."
Buffy grimaced. "I bet they're really going to appreciate us showing up."
Spike squinted through the painted windows at the people in the fields. "Not all of those are human."
Giles craned his head up as far as he could while staying out of the sun. "The last time I was here, a family of Minoto was here, waiting for word on relatives in San Francisco."
"Minoto? Scaley sorts with stubby tails? That could be what's out there, but they're all wearing hooded robes."
"Minoto don't like the sun."
"Fascinating as this National Geographic special is," Xander called from the driver's seat, "what do we do? Just drive up to the front gate and say hi?"
"Essentially," Giles answered. "Be careful of the chickens. Buffy, the Mother Superior is called Sister Agnes Gabriel. She knows--knew me, she would be the one to talk to."
Buffy sighed. "How much do I tell her?"
"Everything. With the Knights so close, we don't dare put the convent in danger without warning them."
Xander drove carefully through the old wooden gates, watching for livestock trying to throw themselves under the wheels. The adobe walls surrounding the courtyard were bright with whitewash, and the gates themselves, while old, were in good repair. Directly across the courtyard were the open doors of the chapel, heavily carved in the original mission style but also well tended.
There didn't seem to be a parking area, so Xander just stopped the bus in the middle of the courtyard. A group of nuns gathered at tables in the shade under a grape arbor at one end of the courtyard got to their feet, staring. One of them came forward.
"Buffy, you're on," Xander said, opening the door.
With a deep breath, Buffy got out of the bus, trying to avoid the chickens now regathering around the wheels. She didn't have a lot of experience with nuns and wasn't sure if she was supposed to kiss a ring or anything.
The woman coming towards her had a dark weathered face under the wimple that covered her head. It seemed like a nice face, except for the surprise and confusion there now.
Buffy put on her best smile. "Hi, I'm looking for Sister Agnes Gabriel."
"I am her," the nun said.
"Hi. I'm Buffy Summers. Rupert Giles said you might be able to help us."
A little more friendliness appeared on the sister's face, along with a little more suspicion. "You know Rupert Giles?"
"Uh huh. Known him for years now."
Sister Agnes looked at the bus. "Is he with you?"
"Yes, he is, and that's kind of a long story."
As she tried to think of a place to start that would explain the situation without alienating the woman, Sister Agnes looked at her closely. "You're the Slayer," she said softly.
"You know about that? Oh, of course you would, Giles said this place was a sanctuary for demons, so you probably know about all sorts of weird stuff. "
Sister Agnes smiled and touched Buffy's cheek. "Calm, nina. Tell me why you're here."
Buffy took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then began to talk, never taking her eyes from the nun's face. Sister Agnes frowned at mention of Glory, then again at the explanation for Dawn's presence, both in the world and at the convent.
"If we can just stay out of her way until after sunrise tomorrow," Buffy said, "then the world's safe, and we can work out the rest of what to do about Glory. But we've also got these Knight guys after us, and I think they followed us here, and we're very sorry about that."
Sister Agnes thought for several moments. "Where is Mr. Giles?"
Buffy remembered Spike saying that the Eugenians didn't like vampires. Well, technically speaking, neither did she, what with the job title and all. She thought of trying to talk her way around the inconvenient truth, but Giles himself had recommended being straightforward. And she really hated the idea of lying to this nice lady who didn't look at her like she was crazy or bad or a freak.
"There's kind of a problem with Giles. If he comes out into the sun, he'll go poof. And we kind of need him unpoofed."
Sister Agnes crossed herself. "He's--he's a--a vampire?"
"Yeah. And we have another one with us, too."
"Two vampires? But--you're the Vampire Slayer."
"Like I said, it's part of a long story. Look, if you don't want us here, we'll more than understand. Being around us right now isn't the safest thing, and I don't like dragging innocent people into this. But we need a place to hide until after dawn tomorrow. Do you know of someplace, hopefully close by?"
The nun studied her. "You're exhausted, nina. How long have you been up?"
"Everybody keeps harping on how I need to sleep. I got some sleep on the bus, I'm fine."
"Of course," Sister Agnes smiled. "How many of you are there?"
Buffy started ticking off fingers. "Me, my mom and Dawn, Xander and Anya, Willow and Tara, Spike and Giles. Nine of us. Too many, I know."
Sister Agnes patted her shoulder. "We have lots of room. Lots of beds, if anyone wants to get some rest. You said your mother and one of the girls were ill?"
"Well, Mom's doing a lot better, and Tara's not too bad, except for her hand and her mind--and you're going to let us stay?"
"No one who has asked for sanctuary has ever been turned away."
Buffy hadn't known how tired she was until she finally had a reason to relax. She wobbled, but Sister Agnes pulled her into a hug before she could do anything so unSlayer-like as fall over. Buffy hugged her back, grateful for the thick cloth of the nun's habit, which absorbed tears before anyone had to notice them.
The nuns were kindness itself as they helped their visitors get settled. Spike and Giles stayed on the bus, of course, but everyone else was grateful to get off. Tara clung to Willow's hand but accepted being led to the lodgings. The nuns themselves occupied the second floor of the building; several guest rooms of varying sizes were on the ground floor.
"We have a family staying with us," explained Sister Elizabeth, who was in charge of housing. "They're staying in the first room on the left. We have two more big rooms, you can divide them up as you wish. The wash room is at the end of the hall." She bustled off, leaving them to it.
Willow shrugged. "Guys on one side, girls on the other?" She frowned at Xander. "Except that puts you in with Spike and Giles. Maybe not."
"No, maybe not," Xander agreed. "I can sleep on the bus or something. Summerses on one side, everybody else on the other? Always assuming that our breath-challenged comrades intend to do anything so mundane as sleep tonight."
Joyce looked at Buffy. "How long are we going to be here?"
"I don't know. Till sometime tomorrow, at least. Xander, do you mind not having a real room?"
He tugged on an invisible hat. "De nada, senorita. I'll just curl up in my serape in some corner of the courtyard."
Dawn laughed. "With the chickens?"
"OK, so maybe Clint Eastwood never had to deal with chickens in 'Hang 'Em High' or anything. It's still a perfectly good metaphor. Like I said, there's always the bus. So, Summers women in one room, witches and Anya in the other?"
No one quibbled, though a couple of glances went to Anya. "What?" she said. "I'm going to be wherever Xander is. Keep the vampires away from him."
"I don't think they're going to try anything, Anya," Buffy said.
"Well, no, not trying to bite him or anything. But if they get bored with each other, I don't want them seeing Xander off by himself."
Dawn was the only one who snickered. Various degrees of thoughtfulness and/or dismay went across the other faces.
Xander shook himself hard. "So not an image I ever wanted anywhere near my brain. But--wherever I curl up, Anya, you're more than welcome to curl up with me."
Anya smiled. "And if we want to have sex, we can throw Willow and Tara out of their room."
"Sure," Willow said brightly. "No problem."
Xander turned to Buffy. "We need to unpack the bus, right?"
"Right."
Buffy didn't head for the bus, though, once they were outside. She stood in the courtyard and looked around. "Do you mind coming with me while I look around?"
"Not at all."
They walked past the bus towards the gate. From inside they heard Giles' voice: "I already captured your King's Bishop, you can't use it to put me in check!"
"No, you didn't, that was my Queen's Bishop," Spike countered. "You just can't remember which pieces you're imagining."
"I'm not the one cheating at visualized chess, you are!"
Spike laughed. "And you sound so damned shocked, too. Fledges, they're so gullible."
Xander managed not to laugh until he and Buffy were out of the front gate. "Cheating at chess, that's evil. So, we're scouting the terrain, huh?"
"Pretty much." Buffy looked out over the valley. "This is beautiful. Only the one road, right?"
"I think so. There might be some trails behind the convent."
They walked around the walls. The olive grove sheltered a small graveyard, with weathered wooden crosses.
"Kind of a nice place to end up," Xander mused, looking at the trees and at the mountains beyond. The leaves rustled in the slight breeze, and a bird chirped on the far side of the grove. "Could do a lot worse for yourself."
Something of a professional judge of cemeteries, Buffy looked the area over. "This has been here a long time. And it doesn't look like anything has ever disturbed them."
"That's the way it is in most of the world, Buff. The dead sleep quiet." A sudden rustle came from behind a tree. "Or not."
Buffy pointed out an ancient olive tree a few yards away. "Over there."
They crept towards the tree. The edge of something moving peeked out from around the trunk. Just as they started to look around, a figure jumped out and growled at them. A small, grey- scaled figure with a stubby tail, two arms and legs, and a faintly dinosaur-ish head. With sharp teeth, that were bared in a fearsome snarl as clawed hands waved at them.
Buffy and Xander jumped back, reaching for weapons they hadn't thought they'd need.
The creature froze, then began to hiss quickly, bouncing a little.
Buffy blinked. "Is he--he's laughing at us!"
Xander cocked his head, then put his hands up, fingers curled into claws, and growled back. The creature jumped, then ran away squeaking.
"Xander, you scared him! Meany!" She punched him in the arm.
"Ow! Well, he tried to scare us. Or she, or it."
"No, I think he was a him. At least, I think those were little him parts I saw, since he wasn't wearing anything." She saw the way Xander was looking at her, as if deeply interested in her observational habits of the genders of demons, and she smacked him again. "Come on."
"Ow. Slayer bully."
There were trails in the rocks behind the convent, but anything less nimble than a goat or a deer would kill itself trying to navigate them. The wall continued unbroken around the entire convent, with a barn on one side with two placid cows and a sleeping horse. The only windows were small and high up on the wall.
"The place was designed defensively, I'll say that for it," Xander said, knocking on the rock-hard adobe.
"I thought you didn't remember any of that soldier stuff anymore."
He shrugged. "I don't have the instincts, really, but a lot of the theory is still there. And I do read things other than comic books, sometimes. Giles hooked me up with this Sun Tzu guy, fascinating stuff. I wonder if there's a way to get up on top of the walls."
Buffy grinned as she followed him into the courtyard. It was always fun--and maybe more than a little intriguing--watching Xander being Competent Guy.
Wooden stairs led up to a walkway near the top of the front wall. The parapet came up to Xander's waist, and he crouched down to peer over thoughtfully. He stood up, nodding. "I can work with this." He saw the way Buffy was smiling at him. "What?"
"Nothing. It's just--you're cute when you're being all smart and capable and stuff."
"Well, better too late than not at all, I guess. Anything else you want to take a look at?"
She blinked, feeling just a little put down. "Uh, the church, I guess. Might as well be thorough." He gestured for her to lead the way.
As they crossed the courtyard, they saw movement in the shadows of the doorway. Buffy put a hand on Xander's arm. "It's the little guy from the graveyard. Don't scare him."
"OK, but if he eats your face, don't blame me."
Buffy walked slowly towards the doorway, waiting for the little demon to stick his head out again. One big green eye in a scaley head peeked around. She immediately crouched down. "Hi, there, little guy. We won't hurt you." She reached a hand out. The creature eased his whole head out of hiding, watching her. "Yeah, hi. Do you understand me?"
Xander shook his head. "I saw 'Jurassic Park,' it's always the cute little ones. He's gonna eat you."
"Hush, you. Never mind him, little guy, he's a big meany." She started to straighten, and the creature squeaked and ducked back inside. "Oh, hey, wait, I'm sorry."
"Meany," Xander said.
With a rustle of long skirts, Sister Agnes came to the doorway, the little creature hiding behind a fold of cloth he clutched to himself. "What scary people did you see, Baynar--oh, silly boy. These are friends, they aren't going to hurt you." She picked up the scared little demon and carried him out. "This is Buffy and this is Xander."
"I'm sorry we scared him," Buffy said. "Baynar is his name?"
"Yes, it is." Sister Agnes patted Baynar's back as he hid his face in her shoulder. "He's a Minoto. He's here with some of his clan. He doesn't speak very good English, and he hasn't seen any humans except the sisters and me. It's all right, Baynar, they're not going to hurt you. Buffy, Xander, come a little closer, let him smell you."
Buffy went up first, speaking quietly and holding out her hand. Baynar looked around suspiciously, then stuck his head out and sniffed at her hand. He cringed back a little when she reached up to touch him, but he didn't hide. Buffy grinned, then stuck her tongue out at Xander. "He likes me."
Xander sneered back. "Girls always smell nice. It's just a trick to make men turn their backs on you." He turned to Baynar. "Hey, little dude. Don't bite, OK?" He held up his hand, fingers tucked away in the best approaching-a-wary-dog procedure. Baynar sniffed, then looked suspiciously at Xander. He growled quietly. Xander grrr-ed back. Baynar blinked, cocked his head, then growled again, adding a little claw swipe. Fighting a grin, Xander growled right back. Baynar hissed and bounced a little, then gave a bigger growl. Xander waved both hands at him, fingers clawed. Baynar hissed some more.
"Uh, Xander?" Buffy asked. "What are you doing?"
"You just stay out of this. We're monstering. Gonna prove who's scarier, him or me." Baynar gave a really good growl, showing teeth. Xander pretended to cringe, then growled back. Baynar nearly bounced himself out of Sister Agnes' arms.
Buffy shook her head at the nun. "It must be a guy thing."
"I think so." Chuckling, Sister Agnes put Baynar down. "Go find your mother, nino. She'll need help putting the tools away." The little demon ran for the gate, but not before growling one more time at Xander.
Buffy nudged him. "Don't let Anya catch you being good with kids. It'll make her start thinking things again."
He just gave her an enigmatic little smile and headed into the church. Buffy started to demand an explanation, but respect for the premises kept her to a little huff of frustration.
Two small windows and a modest bank of candles provided the only light in the church. Xander and Buffy stood for a moment, letting their eyes adjust. Sunbeams from the windows fell on the crucifix above the altar at the far end of the room. In front of the altar stood Joyce, leaning on her walker as she gazed up at the carved figure.
Buffy moved forward. "Mom? I thought you'd be resting."
Joyce shook her head absently. "Too stiff, I needed to move around. Isn't it beautiful? Most of the paint and gilding have faded, but it's a gorgeous piece of work. I think it must have been carved in Spain. It might even be the original."
Buffy looked only briefly at the agonized face of the tortured Christ. "It's very--realistic." She saw movement from the corner of her eye and glanced over to see Xander bowing a knee briefly and crossing himself. He looked a little sheepish but more challenging when he saw her watching.
"Mom cared more when I was a kid," he said briefly. "It sticks with you. Couldn't hurt."
"Nope, couldn't hurt."
Joyce hadn't noticed anything. She made her way over to a side altar, exclaiming at various carvings and statues. "And here's the Virgin, not quite so old, a very nice example of a primitive style. Not very skilled, but they cared a great deal when they made it. Oh, and this--" She stopped in front of the candles. "This must be St. Eugene."
The figure in the monk's robes was obviously inhuman, this time. The hood was thrown back, revealing a head with curling ram's horns and long ears. Even with the fangs peeking out, the smile was benevolent. The upper set of arms were held out in welcome, and the lower set held an ornate chalice in outstretched hands. The chalice itself was made of gold and full of water.
Sister Agnes reappeared. "Yes, this is St. Eugene. His chalice is said to have the ability to show the future, but the real chalice is in France. This is just a copy. The old records claim miraculous powers for this cup, but I haven't seen any." Her smile showed no disappointment in the fact.
"What kind of demon was he?" Buffy asked carefully.
"A Wilnith demon. I don't think the Holy See recognizes him anymore, but we have always been well served by him." Sister Agnes looked over the candles, picking out spent wicks and guttered candle ends.
Joyce looked around again. "So lovely. I'd like to sit here and just look for a while, but I think I need to lie down for a bit." She smiled at Buffy. "And you needn't say I told you so."
"Wouldn't dream of it. Need any help?"
"Just your company."
Xander gazed up at the demonic but gentle face of St. Eugene. "I think I'll stay put here a bit. If you don't need me for anything."
"Nope," Buffy shrugged. "We'll call you if we need you."
He nodded, then found a seat on one of the narrow pews.
"Is he Catholic?" Joyce asked quietly as she and Buffy headed for the doors.
"I don't know. I should know these things about my friends--shouldn't I?"
"I wouldn't worry about it, sweetheart. It probably just never came up."
It disturbed Buffy, though, that she didn't know something so basic about Xander. It hinted at hidden depths, and the strange things that might live there.
The rooms they'd been given each had three beds, plus a table and chairs. In the Summers room, Dawn was fast asleep on one bed, Bear tucked in close under her arm. The duffle bag of clothes was on the table.
Buffy dug in the bag to find clean clothes. "I don't suppose they have showers here."
"A bucket with holes in the bottom, maybe. They probably only have a well."
"Oh, gosh, I just thought--outhouses, you think?"
Joyce nodded under the bed, where a porcelain pot rested. There was one for each bed. "Think of it as camping."
"There are reasons I didn't join the Girl Scouts, you know."
Joyce found some fresh clothes for herself. "Let's go explore the washroom before a nap."
"When do we eat? Should we donate our food, do you think?"
"We can ask Sister Agnes."
The washroom wasn't as musty and nasty as Buffy had feared. The stone floor sloped towards a drain in the corner and a long stone sink ran along the back wall. And in the sink was a squalling Baynar, being forcibly washed by a bigger version of himself.
Joyce hesitated at sight of the demon. Buffy patted her shoulder reassuringly. "It's OK, Mom. The little guy is Baynar, one of those Minoto that Giles said were staying here. Sister Agnes introduced Xander and me to him."
The larger demon peered over its shoulder. Or her shoulder, as the case seemed to be. "Hello," she whistled in passable English. "You are the humans in the bus?"
"Yes, we are," Buffy answered. "I'm Buffy Summers, and this is my mom, Joyce Summers."
Baynar bounced and whistled. The larger demon nodded. "My child says he saw you, Buffy Summers, with a male human. I am Savlin." She turned back to Baynar, who was pointing at Joyce's walker. "Baynar would like to know why you have metal legs, Joyce Summers."
Joyce blinked. "I've been sick. My legs don't work quite right yet, but I'm getting better."
Savlin whistled to Baynar, who asked something in return. They talked for a few moments, Baynar getting increasingly vocal, until Savlin said something sternly and the youngster went motionless and silent.
"What did you tell him?" Joyce asked.
"I told him that if he did not behave that I would let the Slayer eat him."
Buffy went very still. It took a moment for Joyce to find her voice. "The--the Slayer?"
Savlin hunched her shoulders. "I know, I shouldn't tell him scary stories. If he has nightmares it is my fault. And the Slayer is far away." She picked up a towel and wrapped Baynar up as she pulled him into her arms. The little demon wrapped his arms around her neck, silent until Savlin tickled him into helpless hisses. Savlin nodded at Buffy and Joyce as she left. Baynar waved at them over his mother's shoulder.
Joyce put a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Honey?"
"I'm the boogeyman," she said bleakly. "I am what mommies threaten their kids with. The monster that hides under the bed."
"Honey, not you. Your job. And from what you've told me, some of those demons deserve to be frightened of you."
Her forehead unkinked a little. "Yeah, I guess so." She looked the way Savlin and Baynar had gone. "I wonder how many other kinds of demons are out there who are scared of the Slayer and shouldn't be. I mean, there must be others out there who just want to be left alone, who don't want to rampage through the world and kill people. If I'm supposed to be saving the world and all, they're a part of it, too."
Joyce made her way to the sink and investigated the water taps. "I've always wondered--you're the Vampire Slayer. Why do you have to go after all of those other things, too? Why isn't there a Demon Slayer as well?"
"Oh, trust me, I've wondered that too." Buffy joined her at the sink. "Giles just humphed and said I should be glad the job description didn't include dragons."
Joyce nearly dropped the soap. "Dragons?"
"Really. Standing order from the Council. If there are dragons involved, call for backup. They've actually got people who specialize in dragons."
"How often are they needed?"
"I didn't ask. But isn't it freaky that they had to think of it in the first place?"
Joyce stared at her a moment, then went back to washing. "You're teasing me."
Buffy crossed her heart and held up her right hand. "Not. You can ask him." The frown reappeared. "Or, you know, maybe not."
"Maybe not." Joyce leaned over to kiss Buffy's forehead and continued washing.
***
Just before sunset, Willow left the sleeping Tara and went out to the courtyard, her spellbooks under her arm. No one seemed to be moving around; they were either resting from their day's work out in the fields or getting dinner ready. Anya had headed off wherever Xander was, and all the Summerses were napping. A perfect opportunity to go consult with a vampire sorcerer.
She paused at the bus' open door, listening for the sound of anything she didn't want to acknowledge, much less interrupt. All she heard was faint singing, and she smelled cigarette smoke. Spike, at least, was up.
She knocked on the open door. "Guys? You awake? And decent?"
There was a faint laugh. "Honest answer, Red? Never."
"OK. If I come in there, am I going to see things that will scar my young mind forever?"
"Only in a good way."
She sighed. "Vampires."
Spike appeared, barefoot and pulling on his t-shirt. Willow tried not to notice that his black jeans, while zipped, were not buttoned. "What can we do for the Red Witch today?"
She glanced at the setting sun. There were enough shadows from surrounding trees that no direct light fell on the bus, but it was still quite bright out. She put on her most cheerful smile. "Can Giles come out and play?"
Spike snickered then looked towards the rear of the bus. "Oh, Ripper, your little friend Willow is here for you." The reply was in something that sounded like Old High Temple Sumerian, making Spike laugh out loud.
"Willow," Giles called, "if you'd like to come in, I can promise that I, at least, am decent. It's still a bit bright out for my taste."
Willow accepted Spike's hand for the high jump to the first step. He sat down at the top of the steps and pulled out another cigarette as she went to the darkened rear of the bus. Giles was sitting next to the window with the heaviest paint.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
She sat across the aisle and put her books on her lap. "It's the reversal spell. I want to make sure I've got it right. I don't think we'll have a lot of time to get it off."
"No, you're right. Let me see what you've got."
As she handed over her books and notes, Willow noticed Giles wasn't wearing his glasses. The little concentration lines between his eyebrows as he perused a text were still the same, bu