Things That Go Bump in the Night

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Chapter Ten
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Richie followed Buffy Summers to the apartment she said belonged to someone named Giles. They had both lapsed into silence after he'd attempted to explain the very basics of Immortality to her. He hadn't mentioned The Game specifically -- nor about beheading. He was fairly certain he didn't the the person who appeared to be setting herself -- or this Giles -- up as Judge and jury any clues as to how to be executioner as well. It was bad enough he hadn't figured out a way to get his sword back without seriously hurting her.

Rubbing his jaw subconsciously, his eyes narrowed. He wasn't altogether sure he could get it back without getting *himself* hurt. She packed one hell of a punch!

She opened the door and went inside without knocking, motioning him to follow her in. He frowned at the odd way she watched him as he entered the apartment. She was definitely a strange woman. Pretty, he thought, his eyes traveling downward as she turned away, but strange.

"Giles!" she called out as soon as the door shut behind them.

The room was dark and empty, evidently the man she'd thought would still be up at -- he glanced around the room -- three AM, had obviously gone to bed. That was fine with him, it gave him more time to convince Buffy of the need to keep quiet about Immortality. had hadn't listened when he'd first brought it up.

Switching on a lamp, Buffy waved him toward the couch. "Have a seat." As he followed her direction, she spoke again. "Do I have to tie you up?" she asked, "or can I trust you to stay put?"

Shrugging, Richie flashed her a smile. "Well, if you can trust the word of someone you're not sure if you need to tie up, I promise not to run tonight. If I did, then I'd have no chance to ask you *not* to tell this Giles person my secret." He leaned forward, dropping the grin. "No matter how confusing this may seem -- although, you seem to have taken this whole Immortality thing *very* well," he added as an afterthought, continuing after the barest of hesitation. "It really is better if it's kept a secret." He frowned thoughtfully. "Most people don't take this whole thing as well as you have."

**Most people?** Richie thought with sour amusement. **Try, no one I've heard of.**

Buffy laughed quietly. "I bet! But if you're telling me the complete truth, Giles will take it as well as I did."

Richie tried again. "Don't you think it's my secret to keep or tell?"

Buffy began to look pensive, and Richie almost jumped up, hopeful that finally he'd managed to convince her to keep her mouth shut about his Immortality.

"I'll make a deal with you," Buffy said finally. "I'll ask him about Immortality in general, keeping your specific immortality out of it."

"Who is this Giles, anyway? I mean, what makes you think he'll even have *heard* of Immortals? We tend to be pretty secretive about it."

"So I figured," Buffy replied drily. "As for why, let's just say you're not the only one with secrets."

Richie sighed heavily and sank back against the couch, throwing his hands up in frustration. "If he's as smart as you think he is, don't you think he might automatically connect your sudden interest in Immortality to the strange man you've brought home?"

Buffy started, her eyes widening in surprise. "You might be right, she admitted."

Richie's eyes closed in momentary relief. Unfortunately, it was short lived.

"But that's a chance we'll have to take." She said firmly, turning on one heel and disappearing into the hallway before Richie could make a comeback.

** *We'll* have to take?** he thought incredulously. **I sure as hell don't see anyone but *me* taking risks here.** He waited uneasily, watching for her return. Casting several covert glances toward the door, he debated with himself whether staying or leaving would be the best option. He *really* didn't know at this point.

He stood, starting toward the door. He hesitated before reaching it, however. **Damn it!** How did he get himself into these messes? Would leaving simply convince her Immortals *were* evil -- that *he* was evil, as she had asked him earlier?

He thought he heard voices and turned his head to look back at the still dark hallway, lost in thought. She hadn't really seemed to be thrown --that much -- by the concept of Immortals. She seemed quite willing to believe he could be a good person, but concerned that he might not be. He frowned. It was as if she felt she would be responsible if he was evil and she let him go. Why was that, he wondered?

Snapping his head up suddenly, his frown deepened. She'd mentioned secrets, sounding like either she or Giles had secrets. Could 'Giles' be an Immortal? Richie vetoed that quickly. This apartment didn't seem that big. He'd have sensed another Immortal if there had been one here.

At the sound of a door opening, Richie realized the time to leave had passed, and hoping he'd made the correct choice, he returned to the couch, standing in front of it instead of sitting back down.

"--No more or less than anyone else, Buffy," he heard a male voice say -- Giles, he assumed. English, definitely. He'd recognize that accent anywhere. "Some are good, some are not."

Richie took a half-step forward in surprise. So, Giles *had* heard about Immortals, or so it seemed. He wondered where the man had heard of Immortals, or rather more to the point, which one he'd met.

"I have read a couple of references to them, but can't, at the moment, remember in which books."

**Books? A Watcher, maybe? But wouldn't *all* Watcher books refer to Immortals?** More confused than ever, his nervousness growing by leaps and bounds, Richie waited, two questions uppermost in his mind. What kind of non-Watcher books would information about Immortals, and what kind of man would have access to those books.

Horrifying thoughts chased themselves around his mind. His, currently, very active imagination supplying him with all sorts of vivid details regarding secret labs, experimentation, torture--

Buffy stepped into view, flanked by an older man. Surprisingly, two others followed them. **Damn!** Maybe leaving would have been better. This was turning into a circus. The man stared at him assessively for a moment before closing the distance between them and holding out a hand. "Buffy has informed me of the altercation you had. I trust you are all right?" he asked.

Sparing a quick, suspicious glance at Buffy, Richie shook the man's hand, smiling. He surreptitiously trying to get a look at the older man's wrist, not at all sure whether he wanted to see the telltale tattoo or not. "Yes, Sir. I'm fine," he replied, not knowing exactly what Buffy had told him, but hoping it was a safe enough statement to make. "The name's Richie Ryan," he continued, ignoring Buffy's surprised glance.

"Rupert Giles. Please, have a seat, and call me Rupert, so few people do these days," Giles offered hospitably, then turned and headed into the kitchen. "I'm making some tea, would you care for some?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, and Richie almost laughed at her expression. "No, thank you. I've . . . never really liked tea much." Richie wasn't positive, but he thought he heard a muttered, "Of course not, you're American," and again he almost laughed.

"How about a soda?" Buffy asked him.

He nodded, his smile growing. "As long as it won't offend our host," he replied, cocking his head toward the kitchen.

"It won't," she answered, snickering and heading after Rupert. "We finally got him to 'allow' them in his fridge for all of us under thirty."

**Us?** Richie thought, **Is she referring to those two?** He was diverted, however, when Giles began speaking to him again. "You are certain the man was actually dead when you found him, not just unconscious?"

**Ah! So that's what she told him.** He frowned, though. He really didn't want to discuss this at all with all these strangers around.

"Yeah, as a doornail. No pulse," he added.

"And where is he now?" the unknown dark haired man asked. "Oh, sorry, the name's Doyle."

"And since no one is being very polite, I'm Cordelia."

Barely resisting a questioning look toward Buffy, Richie nodded toward the pair, then shrugged. "As far as I know, he's still there."

Giles gave him a funny look, and Richie tried not to wince. Suddenly thrown back to time spent in the principal's office, he knew something about what he'd said bothered Rupert Giles. **And who names a kid *Rupert* anyway? "You don't happen to be a teacher, or anything like that, do you?" he asked suddenly.

Buffy and Cordelia laughed.

Giles looked surprised, but his lips quirked upward. "Librarian, actually."

"That explains it."

"Explains what, exactly?" Giles asked. "Never mind," he continued, interrupting himself. "Let's take this back into the living room, and we can begin by you two telling me the truth this time."

"What?" Buffy asked, startled.

Richie aped a fish, but was distracted by the sudden feel of an approaching Immortal. Barely managing not to turn until he heard the knock at the door, he wondered if tonight could get any more complicated.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Giles muttered and headed for the door.

Richie tuned out Doyle and Cordelia, concentrating on Buffy. He'd been upset enough at the, to him, unnecessary talk with Giles, adding two more in was just plain ridiculous.

"Oh, good," Giles said to whoever was at the door, "you're back. And Adam, you appear to be more . . . settled."

**Adam? No, that would be just way too much of a coincidence,** Richie thought. **Surely there's more than one Immortal who happens to go by the name Adam.**

"Yes, actually, I am."

**Okay, not *my* Adam.** Richie waited, on edge, as Giles backed up, ushering the newcomers in.

"Adam!" Richie exclaimed. **Too much of a coincidence?**

"Rich!"

Richie blinked and turned toward the *very* blond man. "Do I know you?" he asked.

*****

Richie was in shock. It was all too much to take in at once, and he was reminded -- frighteningly so -- of that fateful day he'd tried to rob an antique store and had, instead, got himself into the middle of an all too real sword fight. **Magic is *real*?**

"Please, tell me this is some elaborate joke," he begged, looking at man man everyone 'called' Spike -- the man he knew as Adam.

"I'm afraid not, Rich," the blond 'Adam' replied gently.

"Hey," Buffy said, a challenging grin on her face, "you aren't taking this very well . . . unlike someone I could name."

Richie's eyes widened. "That's not fair!" he exclaimed.

Buffy burst out laughing. "No, you're right, it isn't, but now you don't look quite so shocky anymore, either."

"What's she talking about?" 'Adam' asked.

Richie ducked, then shrugged. "Nothing much, really. We ran across a strange man with a sword earlier tonight. That's how we met -- me and Buffy, I mean."

"You're all right, though?" Angel asked quietly.

"Yes," she nodded, "it was a rather educational experience, however."

A heavy sigh from Giles had everyone looking in his direction. "I apologize in advance for this, Mr. Ryan, but personally, I'm just tired enough *not* to be overly concerned with the niceties. You are Immortal, correct? And Buffy stumbled across a challenge, yes?"

Richie closed his eyes in frustration. He *so* wanted to turn everything over to Methos--if he really knew which one was Methos/Adam--but knew the older Immortal would *never* forgive him for outting him like that.

"Yeah," he finally, reluctantly, admitted.

Exclamations came from several sources around him, and Richie couldn't say for sure who said what--except for Giles, who managed to get everyone to stop asking questions by the simple expediency of acting like a librarian. Richie shook his head. He really wanted to learn how to do that. There was no one he knew, well except maybe for school principals, who knew how to make everyone feel 12 years old again as well as librarians.

After everyone quieted, Buffy sighed. "Thank God!" she said, then turned to face Giles. "I'm sorry, Giles, but when Richard pointed out that it really was *his* secret to tell or not tell, and when you backed up his claim that Immortals weren't all evil, I kinda had to agree with him. Unfortunately, I never was much of a liar."

Giles' mouth twisted into an amused smirk. "For which I thank the stars on a regular basis, Buffy. And as to the other, I would normally agree whole-heartedly. However, there is so much going on here right now, we really don't have time to pussy foot around, trying to remember what lie was told to whom. For now, why don't you escort Mr. Ryan--"

"Rich or Richie, please."

"--escort Rich to the Sunnydale Inn. I have several questions for Adam and Spike, a few of which are quite personal. I'm sure everyone involved would prefer that they be asked with as few people present as possible."

Buffy jumped up from the couch, startling Richie. "I'm *so* on that, Giles. Personally, I'm just as happy to not be present for *those* questions myself," she said, already heading for the door. "You ready to get some sleep, Richard?"

Frowning in confusion, Richie rose. "Yeah, sure," he replied following slowly. "See you tomorrow, Adam?"

The blond Adam nodded.

"What questions?" he asked Buffy as she opened the door.

Buffy frowned and turned back toward Giles. "So what's he need to know?"

Giles slumped, then looked between him and Adam. "I suppose you'll be staying until things get sorted out for your friend?"

Richie nodded at the same time Adam spoke. "That won't be necessary, Rich."

Shrugging, he faced Adam. He still had a *lot* of trouble convincing himself that Methos aka Adam was inside that body. "I wouldn't feel right leaving until you're yourself again. You never know when you might need . . . help. Besides, I know two different people who would verbally flay me alive if I left while you were in this . . . predicament."

Adam rolled his eyes. "Save me from boy scouts and boy scouts-in-training."

Richie grinned. "I'll tell Joe you said that."

"I wasn't calling *him* a name," 'Adam' replied tartly.

"Oh, and you don't think he's perfectly capable of ripping me a new one if I left you here before everything was back to normal . . . well, as normal as it ever gets?"

A very familiar smirk spread across an unfamiliar mouth. "You've got a point. Okay," Adam sighed, "you can stay."

Richie mock bowed, flourishing one hand out to the side. "Thank you, oh Great One, for giving me permission to stay," he intoned dramatically.

Adam rolled his eyes. "Just get out of here and get some sleep -- Brat!"

**Now *there* is the Methos I remember!** Richie grinned, and turning toward his escort, he held out an arm. "Why don't we get out of here and leave the old fogies to their discussion?"

"Hey!" Cordelia exclaimed. "Watch who you're calling a fogy!"

Buffy laughed and slipped a hand into the crook of his arm as he nodded at Cordelia. "My sincerest apologies, milady," he replied.

All set to go, he grabbed his jacket, then frowned. "Now that this is all out in the open, umm, *way* out in the open, where's my sword?" he asked.

Buffy blushed and darted away. "Sorry 'bout that," she muttered as she disappeared down the hallway."

As he waited in the overly silent room, Richie resisted looking toward Methos for as long as he could. He just *knew* the Old Man was glaring at him. He turned. **Yep.** And for the first time tonight, he was glad of all the extra company. He was sure it was all that was keeping the older Immortal from giving him that height reducing speech about . . . 'you let someone *else* have your sword?'

Buffy returned only moments later, but to Richie it seemed she'd been gone *far* too long. She handed it to him, surprising him when she did so properly. It had even been cleaned, he was thankful to see.

Before he could put it away, however; Angel was on his feet and at his side. **Damn that man can move fast!**

"That looks like an incredible sword," he commented. "May I see it?"

Richie shook his head. "I'd really rather not," he demurred as he carefully placed it inside his jacket. Uncomfortable with all the intense scrutiny, Richie simply wanted his sword put up, and him out of there. "Under normal circumstances, an Immortal doesn't hand off his, or her, sword to anyone. Letting Buffy get a hold of it was, uh, done under very special circumstances."

l nol nodded and backed up a step, disappointment clear in his eyes. "Maybe some other time, then?" he asked.

Richie nodded and quickly escaped out the door before anything else could happen to stall him. He heard Giles speaking to the others before the door shut behind him.

"If that young man is going to be hanging around until we help Adam, he's bound to . . . see things."

Richie froze, turning back to face the closed door. "See things?" he muttered.

"So," Buffy said as she reopened the door a moment later, "we share secrets." She moved quickly to join him, smiling when she stopped by his side. "You wouldn't happen to be willing to train me how to use that pig sticker you've got, would you?"

*

"Well, now that the side show has ended," Spike bit out, "can we get things back on track here? I want my body back."