Chapter 40 - Gatherings

Late that afternoon, Buffy sat at the table in the Magic Box with Willow and Xander while Giles was dealing with the last customers of the day. Buffy was talking about her session, and mentioned the state of the training room.

“Well, I’m your dummy man,” Xander said. “I mean I can fix the dummy for you. And hang the punching bag.”

“Xander works construction,” Willow said. “He’s like our personal handyman.”

“Willow made me her bitch last fall when she moved into the dorms.”

“So you don’t go?” Buffy asked.

“Nah, I skipped straight to the getting a job part.” He looked at Willow. “So really, I’m like four years ahead of you. And you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“Xander!”

“Just kidding, Will.” He turned to Buffy. “She’s going to be a rocket scientist or brain surgeon or something. Get one of those really high paying jobs where no one is exactly sure what she does.”

“Really not. It’s only my second semester.” She looked at Buffy. “Hey, maybe we’ll have some classes together.”

“I dunno, I registered kinda late.”

“Well, I can still show you around. You’ll be like a freshman, except for all the, y’know, awkwardness, embarrassment, and accidentally walking into the art class with the nude model.”

Buffy grinned. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“And why haven’t I heard it before?” Xander demanded.

“The male nude model,” Willow emphasized.

“And wow, I’ve heard enough,” he said.

“So does Oz go?” Buffy asked Willow.

She nodded. “Yep. He would’ve been a year ahead, but he kinda skipped senior year. But he’s not a loser or anything,” she hastened to add. “He’s like Mr. Test Scores! He just, didn’t go.”

Buffy nodded.

“Ooh, and we have to go Bronzing,” Willow said.

“Bronz-ing?”

“The Bronze is a club. The club. As in, the only one. Oz plays there with his band sometimes. They’re up for this Friday.”

“What’re they called?”

“Dingoes Ate My Baby,” she said, beaming with girlfriend/groupie pride. “But everyone calls them The Dingoes.”

“Cool.” Buffy paused. “But won’t that get in the way of patrolling? I don’t wanna make Giles angry with me by blowing things off already. Not that I’m planning to blow things off,” she quickly put in. “Just, you know, wrong foot and all.”

“Oh, it’s cool,” Willow said. “The Bronze is totally a vampire hangout. You can just sorta make an extended stop.”

“Okay, then. It’s a date.”

“So do you date?”

“What?” Buffy sputtered.

“Cause Oz knows a lot of great guys. I mean, if you’re looking sometime.”

“I’m, uh, not really looking right now. There was someone in L.A.—but it ended kind of suddenly. I’m not really sure where we stand since I left him. Left town, I mean.”

Willow nodded.

Buffy, wanting to change the subject, turned to Xander. “What about you?”

He shook his head. “There hasn’t been anyone for me since Willow here broke my heart.”

“You two dated?!”

“Well, don’t look so shocked.”

“But you’re obviously such good friends. Most people who split don’t bounce back like that. Why did you break up?”

“He stole my Barbie,” Willow said.

“Huh?”

“We were five,” she clarified.

“Oh.”

“Though there was this one time during sophomore year that we tried going out. But it was a total disaster, so we decided to play amnesia and never speak of it again. Oh, oopsie.” She looked apologetically at Xander.

“I may still have that Barbie.”

“Yeah, well I’ve got stories on you that—”

“So, whaddya think of Giles?” he asked Buffy with a grin, changing the subject.

“He’s really nice. Sort of standoffish at first, but I guess that’s a British thing, all reserved and stuff. Or, an upper class British thing,” she amended, frowning. “Anyway, I like him. And I think he likes me. He fights pretty good. I mean, for someone so…”

“Old?” Xander supplied. “Not to worry, it’s like our running joke.” He lowered his voice. “Just don’t say it to him. He doesn’t like it.”

“Giles is really good on patrol,” Willow said. “He usually gets more vampires than either of us.”

“What one lacks in strength, one must make up for with skill and strategy,” Giles said, taking the empty chair next to Buffy.

“Hey, you know we’re just kidding,” Xander said.

“Quite.”

It was only a few minutes until closing time, and only one customer remained in the store.

Frowning, Buffy leaned in to Giles. “Is she always here?” she whispered.

“Er, sometimes. Quite a bit of the time, recently. Though she’s yet to buy anything. Sometimes she picks up different items and walks around with them, but she’s hardly the strangest customer I’ve encountered.”

“Yeah, Giles gets some real fruit loops in here,” Xander said. “There was this one guy who always had cheese. Like, always.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Buffy,” Giles said, “I thought we might patrol tonight. Sort of a tour patrol.”

“I’m up for whatever. Here to slay.”

“We’ll leave after dark then, yes?”

“Sure. So, on the off chance that we come up against Angelus and his crew tonight— I read the file, but is there anything else I need to know?”

“No, it was all there. Angelus will probably try to fight you if you encounter him, but he may not. He’s gotten quite confident. Even if he does engage you, it will be a test; he’ll most likely wish to draw it out for more than one round. The others may or may not assist him; however, if you see one, you must assume the possibility that they’re all there. And if you confront Drusilla, keep in mind that she has a very strong thrall.”

“Thrall, yeah, that was in there. What’s a thrall? I was gonna ask, but I forgot.”

Giles, obviously pleased to tell her something she hadn’t heard before, sat up straighter. “A thrall makes you subject to the vampire’s will. It places you in a haze-like state and in their complete control.”

“Right. Thrall bad. So how do I not get thrall?”

“Don’t look directly into her eyes.”

Buffy nodded. “Got it. So, who’s for crossbow practice? We could set up the dummy.”

-----

Patrol had gone easily enough. Giles and Willow and Xander had accompanied her, and at first Buffy had joked that they wouldn’t be able to get the drop on any vampires. But the amount she had seen and dusted had actually surprised her. Either there were a lot more vampires here than in L.A. (statistically speaking), or they were used to going out unhindered. Probably both, she thought—Slayerless Hellmouth, after all.

They had taken her by the Bronze and done a quick sweep while Giles waited outside. He said he preferred to watch the alley rather than “suffer that din.” From there were the back streets and then the cemeteries. All the cemeteries. Honestly, Sunnydale was not that big a town—it was easily covered on foot—and Buffy couldn’t imagine any reason to have that many cemeteries except to bury the recently undead.

After hitting the last one, they’d called it a night and had made plans to meet the next evening at the Magic Box.

All in all, not a bad day.

-----

The alarm went off. Again.

Muttering to herself, Buffy hit the snooze button. Again.

“C’mon now, love. Rise and shine.”

Suddenly she was fully awake. She bolted upright in bed and glared at Spike, who was sitting on her windowsill.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checkin’ in.”

“You know, just because you have an invitation, doesn’t mean you have an invitation.”

“Come again?”

“There’s this thing called knocking. Calling? I know you have a phone.”

“What if your mum answered?”

“Cell phone, hello? Speaking of which, why don’t I have your number?”

He grinned. “Oh, you’ve got my number, Slayer.”

Buffy’s semi-good mood immediately vanished. “I told you, stop with the Slayer. Don’t call me that.”

“It’s what you are.”

“But not who I am.” She paused. “Please, don’t tell me I’m nothing but the Slayer to you,” she added softly.

Spike looked at her a moment. “All right. Buffy.”

Then he came the rest of the way into the room and picked up her phone from her nightstand. He punched something in and returned it to its place.

“You’ve got my number.”

Buffy picked up the phone and hit the call button. When she heard Spike’s phone ringing, she said, “And you’ve got mine.”

“I always have.”

“Huh?”

“Came with the job description, love, the first one. The Watcher gave me a nice little introductory packet.”

“With what?”

“The usual. Birthday, license plates, phone numbers. Schedule, physical description, blood type, allergies.”

“Wait. Why would you need to know blood type or allergies?”

“Part of the job. If somethin’ happened, I s’pose, and had to whisk you away to hospital. Not like I wouldn’t have known the blood type, though,” he said with a grin. “But the Watcher’s not capable of not fillin’ out a box on his form.”

Right. A job. That was why he was here now, too—because she’d hired him.

“So,” she said, “what are you checking in about?”

“Everything seemed to go fine last night.”

“Yeah. I felt you following me. Is that weird? I mean, that I knew it was you, and not just some other vampire? I can like pick you out.”

He smirked. “I’m special.”

“Do you have a stake?”

“Not on me.”

Buffy leaned over to the other side of the bed and dug for a moment in the nightstand drawer. She pulled one out and handed it to him. “You said you didn’t carry stakes once. Well, now you do.”

“Is that right?”

She nodded. “Anyone watching my back needs a stake. What were you going to do if I got into trouble?”

“Dunno. Hadn’t thought about it. Beat them down?”

“You. Stake. It’s in the job description.”

Spike slipped the stake into his pocket. “So, what else?”

She paused, thinking. “Does Dru have thrall?”

“Yeah, she does.” He frowned. “You probably should avoid that.”

“Ya think? So does every vampire have thrall?”

“Nah.”

“Do you?”

Spike smirked again and sat down on her bed. “Look into my eyes.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, scooting back slightly.

“What wrong, pet? Afraid I’m gonna do somethin’ to you against your will?”

“No,” she said firmly, meeting his gaze.

“Right, then.” He looked at her.

Buffy held his intense stare, resisting the urge to glance away.

Several seconds passed.

Then he laughed and dropped his head.

Her mouth fell open and then quickly closed as she hit him on the shoulder. “Spike!”

“Wanted to see if you’d do it.”

“Fun-ny. So a big no on the Spike thrall.”

“Don’t have the talent for it. Too poncy, anyway.”

“So is Drusilla poncy?”

“Women aren’t poncy,” he scoffed.

“Oh, so it’s like a gay thing?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I have no idea,” Buffy said, getting out of bed. “So maybe you do have thrall. I’ll be right back. I have to change.”

“You could change here. I’ve seen it before.”

“And yet, I think I’ll be right back.”