Later in the Ashes

Later in the Ashes (Chapter Nine)

Sunnydale might not be home anymore, but Willow was glad she was here now. Things had gone terribly wrong on Buffy’s birthday yet again.

“I can’t believe you’re a Fyarl demon,” Willow said for what was perhaps the tenth time. She couldn’t help it; it was so strange to see Giles with horns and scaly skin. Her heart went out to him. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to wake up and find herself a demon…and not to be able to communicate with anyone anymore. Well, anyone but Spike.

“Good job I was out looking for something to kill, now wasn’t it?” Spike was preening, obviously full of himself at having solved the mystery that had everyone else stumped. Willow was still fuzzy on why they weren’t allowed to tell Buffy, who was actually waiting for her to ride in, laptop at the ready, right now, but as someone keeping secrets of her own, she was hardly going to tell Giles he couldn’t keep this to himself.

Giles said something Willow couldn’t begin to understand and Spike, the only one who knew Fyarl, didn’t translate. He looked a bit…off, though, and it made Willow wonder just what Giles had said. Willow figured if it was something important, however, he’d have translated, so maybe Giles had just insulted Spike. If he did, she would probably never know.

It struck Willow that this wasn’t exactly different from the way things had been even before Giles’s ghastly transformation. Only it was Willow who hadn’t been understood then any better than he was now. Ah, literal metaphors – how much life on the Hellmouth was full of them.

Shaking her thoughts off, she realized she was staring; she couldn’t help it. The longer she looked at him, the more of Giles she could see. Maybe she was used to this kind of thing. After all, she’d always seen Oz when he was the wolf, though she’d never told him that. He’d always made it clear that he saw the wolf as something foreign, something he didn’t want to be. So very different from Angel, at least the Angel she knew. Her Angel seemed very comfortable with his demon side, especially when… She cursed herself as she blushed. Spike noticed and shook his head, once again seeming a bit off. Giles…well, she couldn’t tell what Giles was thinking, though he did cock his head in the manner of a curious animal.

He turned to Spike and muttered something that sounded, at least to Willow’s untrained ear, almost exactly like what he’d said a few moments ago. Spike failed to translate yet again. Instead, he grabbed Willow and dragged her into the kitchen.

“We need to have a chat, pet. Your little glamour doesn’t seem to work on Fyarl demons. The jig’s up.”

“What?” Now she was well and truly panicking. “He knows about Angel?” Her voice was a stage whisper as she hoped against hope that she’d misunderstood what Spike was telling her.

“Not exactly,” Spike said, “But he knows you’ve been claimed by a demon. It’s just a bloody good thing he never had demon senses before, or he’d know the whole story.”

Willow’s legs almost gave out before she reached the kitchen table. She sat down heavily in one of the chairs and put her head in her hands. Why was this happening to her? Had Buffy bequeathed her bad birthday mojo to Willow?

Of course it didn’t take a minute for her to get her priorities straight. Okay, it was not a good thing that Giles had tumbled to at least part of her carefully-guarded secret, but frankly, the fact that he had been transformed into a Fyarl demon was a great deal worse. Now was no time for self-pity. Besides, sooner or later, her affair with Angel was going to come to light anyway. Maybe this was just Fate telling her it was time to pack her bags and move to Los Angeles already…oh, and to find that disc with the curse.

She got up and accompanied Spike back into the living room. “We’ll talk later, okay, Giles?” she said brightly. In response, he nodded his head, which she was pretty sure meant the same thing it always did. “We really ought to go find Ethan and get you back to your old self.”

He turned to Spike and said something; this time Spike translated. “He’s offering to let us use his car.” Spike barely suppressed a chuckle at that and even Willow was slightly amused. After all, Giles’s car wasn’t…well, it just wasn’t.

She kept her expression blessedly neutral however, and replied, “No, that’s okay. It’ll be faster if we take my parents’ car. I’ve been using it go visit Aunt Esther, after all, so it’s not like they’ll mind my taking it for a spin in town.”

Was it her imagination or did Giles look skeptical? Oh well. It didn’t really matter. He needed her help too badly to question her right now and…hey! It just occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, this would be like the time Xander was possessed by the hyena and Giles would forget everything that happened while he was a demon. Of course, there was the fact that Willow had never actually believed that Xander forgot anything at all, but now was not the time to talk herself out of a perfectly serviceable pipe dream. No, all she had to do was keep the rose-coloured glasses on and everything would be fine…it would…really.

Within two minutes they were in Willow’s car, Spike and Giles in the back seat, with its tinted windows keeping the current Fyarl demon safe out of sight of the commandos or any Sunnydale resident who might somehow not be a willfully oblivious idiot.

Willow drove carefully, trying not to be distracted by trying to figure out what Giles was saying, but she couldn’t help her curiosity. He sounded pained, and his voice seemed to be changing. What was he telling Spike?

“Well, you got the mucus thing,” Spike said, in response to whatever it was Giles had said. More odd sounds which were gibberish to Willow followed and then Spike continued. “Paralyzing mucus. Shoots out through the nose. Sets up fast, too. Hard as a rock.” Gibberish again. “Maybe, but if you feel a sneeze coming on, warn me.”

Willow was going to ask what the heck they were talking about, because it sounded like Giles had some sort of truly repulsive demonic traits now, but she was stopped by frantic, guttural sounds and then Spike yelling, “Turn here!”

As she was trying to keep from wrecking her parents’ car, the conversation in the back seat continued.

“Good times. Go with it.” Giles said something and then Spike came back with “It’s fun. I can’t do it. Do it for me. Let yourself go.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Willow was more than a bit nervous. The end of the conversation she was privy to was rather unsettling.

“Just two demons having a chat. Keep driving.”

“Spike,” she warned, her voice low and heavy with the threat of no more cable and hot cocoa.

“Okay, okay. He’s just starting to feel his oats a bit, that’s all.”

“Spike, I know there’s something you’re not telling me, and I’m pretty sure it’s something I need to know.”

“It’s really nothing.” A raised eyebrow in the rearview mirror was all it took. Could it be that Spike really was her friend, that he really did care? “It’s just…well…Fyarl demons are pretty much the ‘all brawn, no brains’ type, y’know? All they’re really good for is takin’ orders. Kind of an odd and sadistic choice to make the Watcher here one of ‘em.”

Another glance into the rearview almost made Willow swerve off the road. There was the faintest glint of tears in Giles’s eyes. “Spike,” she hissed. “You do realize that he can understand English, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry about that.” Spike sounded apologetic, but Willow couldn’t afford to take her eyes off the road to turn back and look at his face.

Giles said something to Spike just as Willow was about to turn a corner and she suddenly found herself being ordered to stop the car. The moment she got to the curb, Giles bounded out the door. Had he spotted Ethan?

No, it was Maggie Walsh. Giles was chasing her and doing a laughably childish ‘ooga booga’ routine. Willow’s respect for the woman vanished completely as she watched her run away, shrieking like a frightened ten year old.

“Get back in the car!” she yelled out the window as Giles came lumbering back, looking unnaturally pleased with himself. “If I were an annoying but powerful Chaos Mage, where would I be?” she muttered to herself as Giles got in and she began driving once more, desperate to find Ethan Rayne.

“Don’t be in such a hurry. I rather like him like this.” Spike patted Giles’s knee. “Good job there. You’re getting pretty good at this demon business.”

Willow didn’t bother to chastise Spike. To him, Giles must seem like the luckiest man in the world. And besides, a likely location to find Ethan Rayne hit her like a bolt from the blue. “The Sunnydale Motor Inn! He’s got to be there. A tacky roach motel like that is the perfect hideout for a bad guy who doesn’t want to be noticed.”

Giles made some noises that sounded very approving and Willow turned right onto the street that would take them straight to the faded doors and flickering neon of the cheapest, sleaziest motel in town.

Unfortunately, it seemed that her inspiration was the last stroke of luck they were destined to have. “Spike,” she said, voice shaking, “Are those cars behind us what I think they are and really hope they aren’t?”

“Yeah, pet. Government. The bloody Initiative’s on our tail.”

“Oh no…oh God…what do we do?” Willow was shaking so badly she could scarcely steer.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Spike sounded more concerned and sincere than she’d ever thought possible.

“I was more worried about you and Giles, but thanks.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You’re with us and that means they’ll lump you right in with our lot.”

At that moment, Giles managed to distract them both. The sound of shattering glass gave Willow something to focus on besides the near revelation of her claimed status. He’d just put his fist through her car window. “Giles! This is my parents’ car!”

A noise that Spike informed her was an apology wouldn’t pay for the damage, but it would do for now, she supposed, especially since it was more than likely she’d have bigger things to worry about soon – like just what the Initiative did to people who hung out with vampires and Fyarl demons…and what if they could see through her glamour the way that demons could? She was scared, more scared than she’d ever been of anything. Dying was one thing, but being experimented on the way that Spike had been…

Somewhere in the tangled mess her mind was she could hear Spike and Giles arguing about something. All of a sudden, Spike leapt over the seat and was now beside her. Righting himself, he shoved her hard against the door, nearly crushing her, and grabbed the wheel. “Hey!” she yelled as he kicked her feet out of the way to take over the pedals. At the same time, Giles tumbled out the back door of the car just as they neared the motel. Okay, splitting up was a tried and true plan, but that left her and Spike as the ones most likely to wind up in a sterile white room since the cars seemed determined to stay on their tail. As much as she herself dreaded the prospect of being captured, she was terrified for Spike. She couldn’t imagine what lay in store for a vampire who had escaped Initiative clutches upon recapture.

“Spike,” she said with as much feeling as her limited ability to breathe afforded, “What are we going to do?”

“This,” he said, smiling in a way that gave Willow the oddest confidence. This might all be frightening for her, but Spike seemed in his element now and that gave her a great deal of hope. He knew what he was doing. They would be okay. She only hoped the same was true for Giles.

Suddenly, he turned the car sharply to the left, narrowly avoiding smashing into a wall, and flipped the hardest u-turn Willow had ever experienced outside of a movie theatre. “Hold on,” he said, rather belatedly.

Looking in the rearview mirror, she was gratified by the sight of the two military vehicles smashing into each other after failing to complete that same maneuver. Unfortunately, her elation did nothing to combat her constricted respiration or the rather extreme nausea Spike’s daredevil antics had brought about.

“Did you see that?” he crowed, oblivious to the fact that she was still smashed against the driver’s side door and finding breathing an onerous task.

“Could you maybe move over and let me drive now, Spike?” she asked.

He hit the brakes and put the car in park, moving over afterwards to allow her to take over once more. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. You just saved our lives and all. Thanks, by the way. I really…it was a nice thing for you to do.”

“Yeah, well, calling me nice is a funny way to show your gratitude, I’d say.”

Oh great. She’d offended him. The stress of tonight was starting to get to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just a figure of speech, okay?”

The depth of emotion she was experiencing must have shown on her face because Spike seemed willing to let it go. “Yeah, alright, whatever. Let’s get to the motel, shall we? Before Rupert goes completely Fyarl on his old chum and winds up a demon forever. Which, by the way, would actually be an improvement, though I doubt the Slayer and the moron would see it that way. Uptight goody-two shoes.”

By this time, Willow had started driving again and they were at the motel in a trice. No sooner had they gotten out of the car, then the sound of smashing objects and loud voices gave them a good idea where Giles and Ethan could be found. Willow, however, spotted something else.

“Spike! That’s Riley’s car. Stay here, okay? I don’t trust him.” She handed him the keys to her car. “If you need to make a getaway, just take my car.” With that, she impulsively gave him a quick hug. “Thanks for everything.”

Spike was staring at her in astonishment and something she could hardly believe…admiration. “Peaches finally picked himself a proper mate. You’re far too good for him, of course, but I think I like having you in the family.”

She didn’t know what to say and didn’t have time to think of something, so she shot him a smile and made a run for the noisy room.

When she got there, Riley was beating the hell out of Ethan Rayne, which was a very good thing. But Buffy was about to stab Giles, which was very, very bad.

“Buffy! Stop! That’s Giles!” she yelled, just as Buffy plunged a letter opener into Giles’s chest.

“Oh God!” Willow screamed as she ran to where Buffy was kneeling over him, the light of understanding having finally dawned in her friend’s eyes.

“Please don’t die,” Buffy moaned as she stared into the rather irritated-looking eyes of her Watcher. Willow was just grateful that he wasn’t dead or even, it seemed, dying.

“Is this thing real silver?” Buffy asked of everyone and no one as she held up a letter opener. In the meantime, Riley managed to subdue Ethan.

Willow stomped over and glared at the creepy mage. “I think it’s time for a reversal spell, don’t you?”

He stared at her for a moment, puzzled, confused, and finally irritated. Damn magicians and their heightened senses. Oh well, he might know there was something magical about her, but it seemed he couldn’t see exactly what it was and for that Willow was profoundly grateful.

“I’m surprised you didn’t do it yourself, little witch,” he whispered.

Soft as his voice was, it wasn’t too soft for the man still holding him fast. Willow did her best to think on her feet. “Name-calling isn’t going to do you any good right now. Just fix Giles.”

Riley let him go and he gave her a mock salute, his eyes locked on hers. There was an old expression about feeling as if someone had walked over your grave. It was a perfect description of the way his eyes made her feel right now.

“I know you,” he whispered as he walked by her on his way to his suitcase. This time she was the only one who heard, but she shivered all the same.

Giles got up and sat on the bed, Buffy by his side. He didn’t even glance at Willow. It shouldn’t hurt, but it did. She’d risked her life helping him tonight, yet in the end, the only person in the world who mattered was Buffy. She closed her eyes. She saw Angel, yes, but she also saw Cordelia and Spike, Xander and Buffy, even Giles. She wondered if he realized how tiny his world was compared to hers. For all his learning and his travels, he lived on a planet smaller than the one inhabited by a girl who’d never been farther from home than Los Angeles.

She shook her head, not caring if anyone wondered what she was thinking. Time to watch Ethan work his magic…literally. She took mental notes as she saw him lay out the tools he would use and draw his circle and she listened carefully to the words of the spell. It seemed a far simpler thing than she’d imagined. Ethan might have even had a point about her being able to do it herself. Of course, that might just be egotism on her part, but still…someday…

And then it was over. In a flash of rather acrid smoke, a shirtless, human Giles stood before them. Willow decided to pay him the same amount of attention he paid her. She barely noticed as he ran to Ethan’s things and grabbed a rather tasteless shirt. Her focus was on Ethan. What might he say next?

Luckily, he seemed preoccupied and depressed about his latest failure as he remained seated in front of the remnants of the spell. “I’ve really got to learn to just do the damage and get out of town. It’s the stay-and-gloat that gets me every time.”

Riley was on the phone and Willow got a very bad feeling. She figured it was about time for her to beat a hasty retreat. “Looks like you guys have it covered, so I’ll just be heading home, okay?”

Buffy looked as if she had questions, but she seemed reluctant to ask them in front of her shiny new commando. Thank Hell for that, she thought. The words had come unbidden and it made her wonder once more about herself.

“Willow,” Giles’s voice stopped her at the wreckage of what had been the door, “We need to talk later.”

And now she truly astonished herself. “No, Giles, we don’t. Oh, and you’re welcome.” With that, she was gone, heading out to the parking lot in as close to a run as she could manage without sacrificing her dignity.

Spike seemed to understand the moment he saw her. “Need me to drive?”

“No, I’m fine. But we need to get out of here. I have a feeling a fresh batch of government creeps are about to come swarming in. Riley made a hush-hush phone call and that can’t be good.”

“Is the Watcher alright then?”

”Giles? Yeah, he’s fine. We got Ethan to do the reversal spell. Giles has Buffy and everything’s right back to normal.”

She could feel Spike’s stare as they drove without speaking for a moment. Stares, like silences, came in so many varieties. Spike’s gaze was searching, but also comforting. Willow fought to keep the tears at bay.

“It’s not right,” he finally said, “But that’s the way of things, I guess. You and me, no one ever appreciates us. Of course, now you have my ridiculous poof of a sire…”

“And you have me. I mean, not the same way, of course, but I appreciate you. At least, I try to.” She paused for a moment. “I didn’t mean to call you nice. I really didn’t.”

Spike laughed, but not very heartily. “I know you didn’t. You’re just not used to the way demons are yet, real ones, I mean. You’ll get there.”

“Yeah.” Her voice trailed off and she stared straight ahead. The road was bleak, even with the lights. “You know what he said, Spike?” Her voice stunned her. She sounded like a little girl. “He said that we need to talk later. Not thank you or anything like that. It was like nothing mattered except something supernatural that might affect Buffy.”

The hand on her shoulder was almost agonizing, burning her with its reminder of everything she’d pretended she had for so long, everything she hadn’t really had until now.

The rest of the drive was quiet, punctuated only by the shifting of Spike in his seat or a soft sigh from Willow. Spike was there, though, really there, and if he was silent, it was because he knew that there was nothing to say, not that he was uncomfortable with Willow’s pain.

How on Earth had he become such a good friend in what seemed like the blink of an eye?

Back at the house, they both sat in the car for a moment. No reason, really, unless maybe they were both trying to find a way to leave the bad thoughts outside instead of carrying them indoors with them. Perhaps Spike managed; Willow didn’t. But she got out of the car at last anyway, making a mental note to take it in to get that back window repaired in the morning, and Spike followed her into the house.

They trudged, there was no other word for it, into the living room and sat on the sofa. The remote was before him on the table, but Spike didn’t even reach for it. “You gonna be okay?”

“Sure thing. Why wouldn’t I be?” She tried to smile, but she was pretty sure it looked more like showing her teeth to her orthodontist. And then, out of nowhere, she came out with the news. “I’m moving to L.A.”

Spike looked betrayed and angry and hurt all at once and Willow could hardly blame him. Of course he would see it as abandonment and betrayal. “Lucky you. Give my regards to all the movie stars and such.” He got up, heading for the door. Willow knew if he left she would never see him again.

“Come with me.” What on Earth had made her say that? Angel hated him. He hated Angel. But…she couldn’t leave him here, trapped in a town crawling with enemies he was helpless to fight. All alone with no friends…it was wrong. Angel would certainly agree with that. It’s not as if he’d actually live with them. They could find somewhere for him to stay. There was no way she was leaving him behind.

“I don’t want your pity,” he spat out. But he stood still, not walking towards the door anymore.

“It’s not pity, okay? I really want you to come. I just didn’t say it right. I’m tired and upset and I’m not doing well with words in general tonight, in case you hadn’t noticed, but I’m not leaving Sunnydale without you. We’re family, like you said, and there’s no way I’m leaving you here. Besides, if I did, you’d figure out a way to kill Buffy, chip or no, and I’d feel guilty and then…” Her voice trailed off as she waited to see how he’d react.

Spike’s smile almost reached his eyes. He believed her, or at least he wanted to, and that was, as Willow knew full well, close enough to the real thing to serve. “Okay. Count me in. Besides, how could I say no to a chance to annoy the poof?”

“Spike,” she warned.

“Oh, c’mon. If I’m on my best behaviour with Angelus, he’ll think I’m up to something. We’ve never got on pet, and we never will. It’s the way things are.”

He had a point, she supposed. Still, she figured she ought to try to get him to agree to a few rules that would make things easier, if only because she didn’t want Angel to hate her for springing this on him. She was perilously close to being in…she couldn’t say the word yet, but the feeling was there, and she couldn’t bear the heartbreak of losing him now.

But just as she was about to start laying out a few suggestions to Spike, the doorbell rang.

Who on Earth was calling on her at this hour? For a moment she feared it might be the Initiative, but she figured they would have just broken the door down. With that comforting thought, she turned to Spike.

“It’s the Watcher,” he informed her. She didn’t marvel at his ability to know such things. She was too well-used to being around creatures with enhanced senses. “Want me to send him packing?”

“No. I pretty much knew this was coming. But thanks.” She gave Spike a small smile before taking a deep breath, preparing for the drama to come.

“Giles,” she said tonelessly as she opened the door and saw her unwelcome visitor, “What brings you here?”

“Willow,” he said, his tone formal and distant, a jarring contrast to the loud satin shirt he still wore. “I know it’s rather late, but I..I wanted to talk with you about something.”

Without her knowing it, Spike had come up right behind her. “Watcher,” he said, with a joviality so patently false it would have shamed an airline stewardess, “Nice to see you so quick to pay your debts.” Willow was confused, but he was ready with an explanation. “Giles offered me $200 to help him out, and another $100 for leading the Initiative away from him at the motel.”

“Oh. Well, since Spike did his job, you really ought to pay him.” She folded her arms and stood expectantly, not even allowing him to walk in the door.

He caved under their combined stares and reached into his pocket. Taking out his wallet, he pulled out a few crumpled bills. “I only have $120 at the moment.” He handed the money to Spike, who seemed about to grab the wallet for himself to check. He refrained, but none too happily, she could tell.

“I’m sure he’s good for it, Spike,” Willow said in her most conciliatory tone. Of course, there was no getting out of the distasteful confrontation now. “Come in, Giles,” she said.

She stepped back and he entered her house, closing the door behind him. To her surprise, Spike took her hand as they made their way into the living room. She wasn’t going to have to go through this alone. She just hoped that would be enough to get her through.


Tbc…