A Very Ordinary Evil

Part 16 – Hunter, Prey


Back at Spike and Willow’s apartment.


“Who would want the Order of Taraka to kill us?” Willow asked, confused and scared.

“Pet, we don’t know yet if it’s just one or both of us. Either way, we’ll need to get Ripper here.”

“Yeah, we do. I just don’t understand it.”

“Well, I did hire them a few years ago. I wonder if my contact’s still around.” Spike m.
.

“Right then,” Willow said, taking charge of the organisational aspects of anything which resembled research; as she usually did. “You call your … contact and I’ll call Giles.” She took out her cell phone and looked at Spike who had not moved. “Well?” She asked.

“I can’t call him luv, I need to go and see him, if ‘him’ is the right word.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll call Giles. It’s late but he’ll understand, under the circumstances.” She called Giles and asked him to come over. Explaining, briefly, what had happened she also asked him to bring any information on the Order of Taraka that he had available.

Within ten minutes, Giles had arrived. He had obviously broken every speed limit on his way over. As the door was opened to him, he came through it, carrying a large bag of books and asking, “How do you know it was the order?”

Spike threw him the ring. “That’s how.”

Giles nodded as he looked at it. “It’s the Order. What happened; all the details please.” Once they had explained everything that had happened, with Giles chuckling during the explanation of Spike’s apparent clumsiness, he looked seriously at them. “I would say that we have some problems. First is that we don’t know if Willow, or Spike, or both of you were the target or targets. I’m inclined to think that it was either Spike or both of you who were targets, because there was no immediate shot at Willow. Which is what would have happened had she alone been the potential victim.”

Willow nodded in agreement. “I’d come to that conclusion as well, Giles. I didn’t want to say anything until I spoke with you though.” Giles nodded as Willow continued. “What I don’t understand though, is who would want Spike dead, and why? Or both of us for that matter.”

“I know I’ve pissed off a lot of … people in the non-human community by working with the slayer, pet. It could quite simply be that.”

Spike slipped into thought again. “Red, what spell did you cast on the bloke with the crossbow?”

“Oh, a teleport. Why?”

“Did you send him anywhere in particular?”

“No, he could have emerged aere.ere. I wasn’t worried. He was trying to hurt you.”

“What do you mean by ‘anywhere’, luv?”

“I mean, I need to focus on the destination when I activate the spell. I didn’t worry about that. So he could be anywhere. Next door, in Chicago, in the middle of Mount Rushmore, twenty thousand feet above the Pacific. Anywhere.”

Giles looked at Willow, then looked at Spike and grinned evilly. “Just never piss her off, old son. The potential results are just too horrible to contemplate.”

Spike tried to glare at Giles, but it was clear that he was amused as well. “So, getting back to the core of the conversation, Ripper, what are we going to do about this?”

“Spike, you mentioned to Willow that you had a contact. Why don’t we talk to this … contact?”

Spike looked at the time. “It’s getting late mate. It’s summer. We won’t be able to get there in time. We’ll have to hold off until tomorrow night.”

“Is there anything else we can do Giles? Anything at all? I don’t like this. It scares me.”

Spike came over to the little redhead and wrapped his arms around her. “Listen pet, we’ve got through far worse things than the Order of Taraka.” He looked over to Giles. “I just had a thought. Do the Order accept payments to stop pursuing a contract?”

“No, it’s against their Code. They see it as dishonourable.”

“Somehow, I didn’t think it would be that easy.” Spike’s tone was bitter as he spoke. “So, what we have to do is to find the contractor and either kill him or convince him to withdraw the contract. That’s just great!”

“Well, I would say that you have at least a few days before the next assassin is dispatched.” Giles observed, trying to see the positive side of things. “It gives us a little time at least to speak to your contact.”

“Wait a minute, when Spike hired them, they sent three against Buffy.” Willow recalled, suddenly worried.

“That was because I arranged for it like that pet. I thought several threats, simultaneously, would be useful against the slayer.”

“Oh. You don’t do things by halves, do you handsome.”

Spike chuckled ruefully. “No. Didn’t help me any though.”

Giles sighed. “Well, we’re at a dead end here. I suppose we should go and see Spike’s contact tomorrow night. If it’s all right with you both, I’ll leave these here and head home to bed.” So saying, Giles left the couple alone.

* * * *

Giles arrived shortly after sunset, to find Willow and Spike waiting for him. Spike was obviously dressed to intimidate, being entirely in black. Willow looked different, he noticed. There was a hardness in her eyes that he had never seen before. She projected a hostile self-confidence which genuinely surprised him. In addition, her clothing was radically different. A black long sleeved tee shirt, a pair of handcuffs on her right wrist like a double bracelet, urban combat fatigue pants and black Doc. Marten boots presented the little redhead in a different, almost frightening, light. Giles stuttered a greeting, too shocked by Willow’s appearance to do more.

“Ready, Ripper?” She asked. There was a harshness about her voice as well that left Giles floored.

“W-Willow? What on earth is … all this about?” He asked, gesturing at her.

She laughed. The same laugh Giles had always known. “I see it’s worked then.” An impish smile danced over her face.

“Worked, what worked?”

“Spike’s idea. He thought that I could help scare people tonight. That is what ‘putting the frighteners on’ means, isn’t it?”

“Er, yes. It does. Is Spike teaching you London slang?
“N
“Not really, I just let him be himself, and if I don’t understand something, I usually ask. The clothes are mine, but the rest is a glamour, of sorts. Oh, I don’t know where Spike got the handcuffs.”

Spike was grinning at the exchange. “Let’s go, shall we.” Spike said, and led the way to his DeSoto. Giles noticed the sawn off twelve gauge Spike carried under his duster and began to get worried.

Spike drove out towards the Interstate. “Listen up, I don’t want to have to repeat myself. We’re going to a small town called Bitterwater. That’s where my contact is.” He continued to accelerate to a speed which both Giles and Willow found unnerving. “The contact isn’t a human. He—and I use the term ‘he’ advisedly—is a demon of sorts. A Matarral, if you want to be specific.”

“I recall the name. Nothing else though.” Giles interjected.

Spike continued, explaining. “Matarrals are a species of hermaphroditic demons. Most tend to be very androgynous and look almost human. This one is, by their standards, somewhat more macho than a pro wrestler. They’re also tough as nails in a brawl, that’s why I’ve got the shooter. This bugger lives alone, passing as a local. Most of the people up there think he’s a reasonable fella, so we have to be careful not to piss them off either.”

“Why are things never easy?” Willow asked rhetorically as she started to rummage through her bag for some empty crystals. “I can set a truth spell and a will weakening spell in these, but they’re my last two. Do you have any more in stock Giles?”

Giles looked back at her from the passenger seat. “I don’t have fainfaintest idea, I’ll check and let you know tomorrow.”

“Oh, Red, luv. I forgot to mention that these Matarrals are much more resistant to magic than most demons or people.”

“This just gets better and better,” Giles sighed. “Is there anything other than your bloody sawn off that I can use?”

“Not really. A crossbow would seem just a little outré, mate.”

Sighing, Giles started to think about what else could go wrong. He was rapidly coming to the conclusion that they had jumped into this half cocked.

As they began the climb into the mountains, they started to become reflective. Spike broke the silence. “I’m hoping he’s at home. He’s a lives a little way from the town, so we may be able to get in and out without anyone knowing.”

“And if he’s not?” Gileked.ked.

“We go and find him. We’re on a tight schedule. We don’t have the time to pissfart about.”

“Great!” Giles and Willow chorused in tones of sarcasm.

They eventually reached a small house, made of wooden planks, about a mile past the town. Spike pulled in and the three got out. Leaving Giles and Willow at the car, Spike walked to the door and knocked. A middle aged woman answered. Spike spoke to her, being as polite and charming as he could. After two or three minutes, he returned to the others. “Well, that was a balls-up. She’s the new owner. She bought the place from a deceased estate last year. My contact died. She didn’t know how.” Spike looked angry and upset. “Oh bugger it all! What else could bloody well go wrong?” He snarled, kicking at the small stones of the gravel driveway.

Dejectedly, the three got back into the black DeSoto and started the return trip to Sunnydale.

* * * *

On their return, Giles immediately drove back to his own apartment, while Willow and Spike collapsed on the sofa. As Willow curled into him, she looked up and asked, “Should we go and ask Willie who the new contact is?”

“That’s both a very good and a very bad idea pet.” Willow looked at him, slightly confused, so he explained his reasoning. “Willie would almost certainly know who the new contact is, but that contact was probably the person who arranged things for whoever is after us. Now, I’d rather they didn’t find out that we know who it is. The element of surprise ‘n’all that. What we need is a stalking horse, someone who can find out from Willie who the contact is, and then tell us.”

Willow nodded in thought. “That’s a bloody good idea,” she said, thinking. “Who shall we…” She was interrupted by a peal of laughter from Spike. “What?”

“You said ‘bloody’!” Spike began to dance around her, chanting like a nine year-old. “You said ‘bloody’. You said ‘bl’.” ’.”

“I did not! Did I? Oh Goddess, I did! This is scarier than anything else that’s happened so far. We’re beginning to talk the same.” Suddenly, Willow began to laugh. Once she had started, she simply couldn’t stop. She lay helpless on the floor, eyes tearing as she convulsed helplessly. Spike watched for a moment before he felt himself succumbing as well. Within a few seconds he was lying, equally helplessly, on the sofa, gasping for unneeded breaths as he tried to compose himself.

Some minutes later, when their mutual laughing fit had eventually subsided, they realised that they needed to continue their conversation. “So,” asked the redhead, “Who can we use as a stalking horse?”

“Ah, that’s the tough part. I have no bleedin’ idea.”

Willow nodded. “Well, lets sleep on it. With a fresh mind, we may be able to think of someone tomorrow.”