AUTHOR'S NOTE : Much thanks and gratitude to my friend and beta Lou. What I send you is enhanced a hundredfold when you send it back. Thank you.

COME BACK TO ME

CHAPTER 28

 

Xander screwed up his eye and gave it a rub for good measure.  Surely he couldn’t be seeing what he thought he could see - but he was.  Quentin Travers, alive and kicking…apparently. 

 

Xander scowled, his voice laden with disdain.  “So, you weren’t vaporised in the bomb-a-palooza then?  There’s a surprise.  Giles’ll be ecstatic.  I’ll tell him you said hi.”

 

“Mr Harris.  Good to see you didn’t lose your sense of humour along with the eye.  Please, do sit down.  I’d say refreshments are in order.”

 

Travers indicated a table away in the alcove, an incongruous oasis of calm conjured amidst the hellfire and brimstone, with its starched white linen and delicate bone china tea set.  An actual liveried butler stood off to one side, his white gloves spotless, holding a silver tray laden with an ornate antique silver tea service. 

 

Xander turned to the Englishman and affected an almost Spike-like smirk.

 

“Are you for real?  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at the whole Jeeves thing?  Are we gonna just sit and chat over afternoon tea?  Pip pip and tally ho, old sport?”

 

Travers merely continued to indicate the chair that the butler had pulled out, until Xander finally slumped into the seat. 

 

He glared at the proffered cup of tea, “Don’t think that’s gonna hit the spot, your lordship.  I need something stronger, and less British, maybe more…Russian, of the vodka variety?”

 

Travers took his seat opposite Xander, nodding to the lackey to procure the desired beverage.  After a minute or two of strained silence, Xander conceded defeat to the stoic former Head of the Watchers’ Council and started in on what he knew.

 

“Look, I’m not even interested why you’re here, okay?  I’m done with the whole hero gig… all it gets you is loss of body parts, impaired senses and an increased spanking of the Jolly Red Giant, due to absence of a willing and able partner.”  Xander gave a sour smile.  “I just want to get what’s coming to me -- what I’m owed -- then split.  Angel made me an offer; I accepted.  I’m ready to deliver on my end of the deal, but now he’s gone AWOL.  So who do I see about getting my due?”

 

Travers smiled, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that would have gone unnoticed had Xander’s bleary eye not focused on his face a second before. 

 

“Well…it was somewhat remiss of Angel to make any deals, particularly as he isn’t actually in charge here.  We gave him some general admin to do, of course, but nothing of any real import.  Perhaps you could explain what the agreement comprises and I’ll see what we can do.  After all, we do have a history.”

 

“Yeah, if you’re calling mutual loathing a history, I guess we do.”

 

“Quite.  It’s remarkable how similar you sound to Miss Summers.  Clearly, she’s been a great influence on you.”

 

“Was… back in the day.  That was before I realised that the only person watching my back is me.  So, that’s what I’m doing.”

 

The butler returned with a frosted bottle of the premium vodka that Xander had been hoping to find in Angel’s office earlier.  After knocking back a healthy swallow straight from the bottle, Xander plonked it down on the table, grimacing at the burning sensation as it slid down his throat.  Travers was patiently waiting for him to resume his explanation.  And it seemed the only way to move forward, and really Xander had nowhere else to be.

 

“You were saying, Mr Harris…”

 

“Simple really; Angel wants Spike out of the picture, and right now nothing would give me a bigger happy.  Spike’s a vampire, an evil manipulating piece of crap.  But hey – let’s give him a second chance.  While my beautiful…Anya…she…she’s gone and does anybody care?”  He poured more vodka into a teacup and took a drink.  “Angel said he could bargain with the Powers or do a spell or …to be honest I’m not too clear on the details but he has people working on it.  He promised me that if I helped him get Spike out of the picture and leave Buffy to him, he’d bring Anya back.  I’ve got plans – we’re getting as far away from these people, so-called friends -- they’re nothing to me now.  We’ll have a fresh start somewhere new, and forget we ever heard of the Hellmouth.”

 

Travers steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair.  It was rather gratifying to see how the cheerful know-all from Sunnydale had fallen so low as to become a bitter, vengeful drunk. His eyes gave nothing away, his face expressionless as he regarded the young man coldly.

 

“Interesting.  And I suppose you gave no thought as to whether Angel could actually fulfil his promise?”

 

“You kidding me?  It’s Wolfram and Hart we’re talking about; they’ve got everything right here. Hell, half the employees are demons and some are even gods.  Angel’s CEO -- of course he can do it.  He has to.”

 

Travers took note of the desperation that coloured Harris’ voice.  Angel had been very slick with this one, playing on his weakness to the extent that the fool would have done anything on the vague assurances that his dead lover would be resurrected. 

 

But it was an empty promise.  Worthless.  Of course, it was entirely possible that Anyanka could be resurrected – but she would be enslaved to Wolfram and Hart if that was the case, and Harris, if he lived that long, would be embarking on his new life alone.  Still, no point spoiling a perfectly good opportunity to take control of the situation by disclosing the truth.

 

“Well, you’re right, of course.  Wolfram and Hart are very powerful.  And what was your plan with regards to the vampire Spike?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Travers hid his frown at the boy’s stupidity.  Harris was now at least a third of the way down the bottle of vodka and his bloodshot eye was starting to glaze over. 

 

“Did anyone ever tell you you’ve got shark eyes?”  Xander squinted to bring Travers into focus, noting with some accuracy the lack of vigour in the older man’s eyes.

 

Travers ignored him, speaking slowly.  “Spike.  You said you were going to deliver him to Angel.  You must have given some thought to how you’d accomplish that?”

 

Xander grinned.  “Well, that’s the smart part.  You see, we Scoobies are oh so trusting!!  Everyone’s been too busy to talk since Sunnydale, and all I’ll have to do is cry on Willow ’s shoulder or give Buffy a hug and they’ll feel really bad for me.  Spike’ll buddy-up ‘cause he knows it’s what Buffy wants – and when he’s being all pal like, it’ll be easy to steer him to Angel.  What he does with him, I don’t care.  I’ll have my Anya and we’ll disappear.”

 

Scarcely a plan at all, really.  It was highly unlikely William the Bloody would ever be sufficiently deceived by Xander Harris as to bond with him, never mind be persuaded by him to meet his doom.  But Travers considered that Harris had his uses.  In fact, it could well kill two birds with one stone.  Having Angel become Angelus had been an idea that Travers was uncomfortable with from the start, but his superiors had insisted.  The vampire was unpredictable at best and Travers had reservations that he’d be as biddable as they expected, notwithstanding the assistance of the tainted blood they’d been feeding him.

 

So, perhaps it was time to clear the boards, blame the removal of Angel on the boy’s interference and hopefully use him to trigger a battle between the forces of good and evil that would see an end to the Aurelius clan’s wayward descendants once and for all.   Yes, this could be precisely what was needed.

 

Travers had never been privy to what was so important about Angel, why he should be given virtual free rein with the law firm.  And it irked him that such a creature took precedence over himself when he’d walked away from a lifetime’s work and study in order to join the Senior Partners and their scheme for domination of the Earth and other dimensions accessible from this hub.  

 

Of course, to dispose of Angel, they’d have to find him first.   It wasn’t that he was missing, exactly; he just wasn’t responding to their calls.  It wouldn’t do for them to go barging into the Sunnydale visitors’ rooms uninvited, as that might harm any delicate – if the vampire was capable of delicate – plans that were in motion. 

 

But Xander Harris could.  He could go anywhere, be Travers’ eyes and ears in the enemy camp.

 

“Well, now, Mr Harris… Xander, isn’t it?  I believe that I can honour the deal brokered by Angel.  I just need you to do me a small favour, and we can move right along.  You’ll have…was it Miss Jenkins?  Yes, I recall the young lady now. -- you’ll have her back by your side in no time.”

 

“Whatever.  But don’t be too long about it.  I’m done here.”

 

Travers quashed his irritation at the boy’s coarse manner.  It would be easy to engineer events so that he was a victim of the battle, once his usefulness had ceased.  That is, unless the Summers girl did the job for him.  She would not take too kindly to one of her own being threatened, and it seemed that there was nobody dearer to her than William the Bloody. 

 

Yes, all in all, this was an opportunity to be thankful for.

 

+ + + +

 

Buffy and Spike lay tangled together on the rumpled bed, Buffy draped limply over him, her fingers caressing the smooth chest pillowing her head.  It was their last moments of just being before they had to go and face whatever was to come.  It was hard to let go, but they both knew they had to.  Just a few more minutes…

 

As Buffy drew breath to speak, Spike moved beneath her, rolling so that he could look at her face.  He cupped her cheek with his palm, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her flushed skin. 

 

“Yeah, love.  I know.  Time to go.  Just give me a second to look at you, carve you in my heart.  You’ll always be my Buffy, won’t you?”

 

Buffy nodded, not trusting her voice enough to speak.  It hurt too much to even start to think that this was the last time she’d see him.  It occurred to her that it was maybe because of the claiming link, her own feelings overlaid by his.  Comforting for the most part, but hard to bear when already excruciating pain was increased and shared.  But still, she wouldn’t take back that bite for the whole world…

 

They shared a long kiss, sweet and lingering, each drawing strength from the other.  Buffy was reminded of the night before the final battle in Sunnydale, when they’d lain in each other’s arms, eyes locked in wordless communion.  There’d been kisses, nothing more, but it had been the most intimate experience of her life.  Until now.

 

When Buffy didn’t make any attempt to move, Spike shifted over and picked her up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and settling her in his lap.  “Much as I’d love us to hole up here forever, pet, don’t think the buggers in charge are going to be up for that.  And I’d quite like to face the music with my knackers covered, thank you very much.”

 

That made Buffy giggle, as planned, and she reluctantly swept her hand down his chest and pushed herself away.  They dressed in silence, avoiding looking at each other to keep temptation at bay, and were soon ready to go.  The two lovers smiled at each other as Spike’s hand was on the doorknob…and two heroes walked out of the room and down the corridor to rejoin the rest of the warriors.

 

+ + + +

 

Wes became animated as he worked on the prophecy.  He hadn’t known Spike for very long, but he’d found himself actually liking the vampire despite himself.  The Vampire is a rabid demon in human guise, to be slain on sight: one of the principles Watchers were drilled with from day one.  A rule blithely waived, apparently, when it suited the Council’s aims.  So much had happened to change his beliefs that he preferred to go with his gut instinct rather than the trite Forces of Darkness 101 that had been his mantra.  Angel had surprised him, after all.  And then some, and continued to do so.  The dark-haired vampire had become his friend and dammit…his hero.  Yes, he’d go that far.  Oh, there’d been dark days and night - and at this thought Wesley nervously fingered the fading scar across his throat – but ultimately he would class Angel as a friend.  Or he would have done until lately.  Confusing times indeed.  The bad were good and the good were bad, or was that just a simile for the human existence?

 

Giles consulted Wesley on their readiness for the final showdown, his words dragging Wesley back from his dour contemplation.  “Do we have everything?  Are we ready?”

 

Wes nodded, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the ancient text.  “Yes.  So far as I can tell.  Sacred ground…there are chambers in the foundations of this building that originated centuries ago and have always been used for worship.  Not necessarily Christian, of course, but worship and sacred nonetheless.  The dagger was retrieved from Sunnydale after Spike and Drusilla used it in the ritual to restore her with Angel’s lifeblood – it’s in the vaults here together with the translation codex.  Full moon…tonight.  But Spike…he still has another trial, surely.”

 

“Yes, he does.  Traditionally.  But there’s nothing traditional about Spike – it’s possible the Powers are treating him differently.  They did seem rather taken aback by his unique response to their latest test.  I’d wager they’re quite intrigued by him.”

 

Wesley chuckled.  “Yes.  He is rather…one of a kind…grows on you…”

 

“Like fungus!”  Spike slapped Wes on his back as he caught the tail end of the conversation between the two watchers.  “See! Told you I was special!  Give us a kiss!”

 

Buffy smirked as she watched Wes blush.  Despite the bristly chin and the cool dude attitude, she couldn’t help but think of him as the fumbling shop-window model reject sent to supplant Giles as her guide through all things hellish.  He’d toughened up, no doubt about it though.  He was in charge of an entire department at Wolfram and Hart. Evil at his fingertips. 

 

That was a sobering thought that brought it all right back to her.  Evil.  They were rooming at Evil Central and about to take them all on.  And the stakes too high to even think about.  So she wouldn’t.  Let’s all take a trip to Denial…

 

“So…what happens now?  Who do I slay?”  Buffy grinned.  “Oh come on…it’s traditional before a battle – I have to ask that question.”  Now that her mindset had switched to warrior, she was enjoying the build-up, eager to get it over and done with and take Spike home  -- because she was determined to do that.  The anguish and doubts that had plagued her were ruthlessly thrust to the back of her mind to settle down along with the fearful lover which formed the other half of her psyche.  Now that the Slayer was in charge, there was no outcome that she would contemplate other than the total annihilation of the bad guys.

 

Total annihilation of Angel…Angelus.  Whatever the hell he’d become, he’d tried to ruin her life for the last time. 

 

+ + + +

 

Xander smoothed down his hair and took a deep breath.  Since arriving in LA he’d taken part in just the one ‘meet and greet’ and swiftly headed straight to the nearest 100 proof bottle thereafter.  But Angel had promised him Nirvana, and Travers had agreed to complete the deal if Angel didn't turn up, so he’d do whatever it took to deliver up the fatted calf in order to get his girl. 

 

He was a little fazed by the wide, disbelieving eyes that turned his way when he walked into Fred’s lab.  Friends of his, or potential friends at least – and all of them gaping at him like he had a pointed tail and horns.  Was he so far out of the loop?

 

“Hey guys.  Thought I’d better come catch up with the what – sorry about the whole incommunicado thing, but you know, dead girlfriend and all.”

 

Nobody pointed out that she was, in fact, his dead ex-girlfriend that he’d jilted at the altar – but he got that vibe anyway.

 

“So…what gives in the world of sober?  Guess the nurture won out over the nature, Will, but I’m on it now – all with the coffee drinking and the shunning of all beverages that are brewed, distilled… you name it.  Other than coffee…obviously…”

 

Willow had eyes as wide as saucers fixed on her oldest friend.  She knew what she knew; and what she knew was that Angel and Xander had made some kind of deal.  A tiny part of her died inside as she looked at her friend.  It was awful – the look of the loser half of Tothed Xander and the manner of hyena-possessed Xander.  He’d been sly and underhand, manipulating the truth to suit his purposes -- and the fact that he had threatened Spike got her all riled up -- but she couldn’t let him see. Giles had said that Xander would try something like this, appeal to her sympathies and get her to feel sorry for him.  And she did, more than sorry.  But sorry wasn’t going to fix anything.

 

But she could play the game.

 

“Xander!  Oh – look at you!  Come here and hug me, you beast!  I called for you and you blanked me!”

 

Xander lowered his eyes.  Not to hide his blushes, but to hide his grin.  Knew he could rely on Willow ; he’d be back at the heart of things in no time. 

 

Almost too easy.  Bit of pouting, hang the head in remorse – and all would be good.  Then he just had to get Spike down to the dungeons and do Travers the one itty-bitty favour and Anya would be in his arms, kissing him senseless.

 

But it felt uncomfortable in Willow ’s hug.  It reminded him of days past, how good he felt when Buffy and Willow would just grab him and hug him for no reason at all -- not anymore.  It was setting his nerves on edge and making him jittery.  If Willow noticed, she didn’t say anything, and he forced himself to wrap his arms around her and hug her back.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here, Xander.  You don’t know what’s going on at all – I’ll have to fill you in.”  Willow led Xander away to sit down by the window, babbling half-truths about what was going on, her mind racing faster than her mouth in an effort to make him feel at ease without spilling any secrets. 

 

For the first time in her life, Willow didn’t trust Xander.  It cut deep, and she wasn’t ready to give up on him just yet.  But telling him anything right now wasn’t an option.

 

“Buffy about?”  Xander asked casually.

 

“She’s gone to sit with Dawn.  Spike too.”  The stony silence that followed was tense, everyone waiting for Xander to start a rant.  He merely nodded.

 

Willow continued, unable to bear the tension.  “We’re waiting for the Powers to send Spike on the next trial…then it should be over soon and we can all go home.”

 

He was unable to stop the sneer and the sarcastic response.  “ Home , Will ?  You gonna click your fingers and magic us up a time machine? ‘Cause the last I looked, home was at the bottom of a king-size crater.  You do remember that, don’t you?  No home, dead friends, no graves to visit?”

 

As Willow ’s bottom lip began to wobble, Xander couldn’t decide whether the feeling curling in his gut was pleasure or guilt at causing her pain.  But hey, it beat feeling nothing.  He had Angel to thank for that.

 

TBC…