End of Days

Day 6

“Not yet”, Buffy murmured, balancing carefully on the porch railing. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the way that her Watcher and the wolf looked at her. As if she was ready to fall at any moment. “Not today.”

Humming a tune she couldn’t place under her breath, the Slayer hopped down nimbly and walked out into the yard, listening raptly to the sounds of animals and insects moving around. They were being silly, those others.

Silly Giles. Silly puppy.

Fully aware that she was cracking, the Slayer entered the gazebo and curled into a ball in a padded lawn chair, letting the sunlight warm her until she dozed.

Willow woke slowly in a brightly-lit room. Candles, she noted with interest, picking up the smell before she opened her eyes. Strange how much brighter the candles were on this night.

Interesting. Willow sat up easily, not bothering to stretch muscles that didn’t really need it. The sheet pooled in her lap, leaving the Wiccan naked from the waist up, but it didn’t matter as much as before. Oh, yes. Before. Xander is going to cause some problems for me I think.

Willow examined her exposed body with fascination. The changes were subtle, but knowing what to look for, she found them without difficulty. The redhead lay a hand over her heart, nodding absently at the stillness of her chest. Shrugging, not sure if she was in shock or simply didn’t care, Willow rose from the bed and sauntered over to the chest in the corner, which held clothing.

All sheer, flimsy stuffs, of course. Willow donned a rather flowing white concoction that seemed to have a bit more substance than the rest of the pieces and ran a hand curiously through her hair. No more mirrors. Hmm. Well, it seemed tame enough to the touch.

Pale, veiny, and lacking mirrors. Cordy would die. Willow left the room with a purposeful step and made her way back to the spiral stairs. Would Gaius be in the catacombs? Master Gaius? Pausing for a moment before she entered the tunnels, Willow mulled over the name. Maybe.

As she slid through the catacombs, Willow nearly winced at the brightness in a few of the intersections. She remembered the path to the core of the den quite clearly, strangely enough. In moments, she entered the rather sprawling room.

Her first thought, even as she saw Gaius and approached him, tingled in her head like a beacon. This is really, really bad.

The next was, Oh look. I think I have a soul...

Alexander hunkered down on the ledge over Master Gaius’ head, keeping watch for any possible danger to the leader of the Joined Clans. He was the first to see Willow’s arrival, and he raised a brow in interest at her apparel. Very sweet.

But Willow? That mystery eluded him for the moment. Signaling his sire, who stood beside Master Gaius, Alex waited to see what secrets his little Will held with growing delight.

Daffyd noted his newest fledgling’s signal with a nod and gently directed the Master’s attention in that direction. Apprehensively, he noticed that the Elder brightened visibly at the sight of his newest Childe.

A little bright for Daffyd’s taste, with the shining cap of red hair, but pretty enough. She looked a great deal more interesting with her skin milk-pale than she had as a flushed human child. Grudgingly he admitted that she did have an intriguing quality.

Yet the Master might have had one of his Childer turn the girl and not done it himself. Daffyd shuddered at the thought of the girl’s power. There was always a chance that Alexander...

“Uncle”, Daffyd ventured carefully, “might I allow Alexander to speak with my new cousin later? He tells me that there is history between them...” Releasing a sigh of relief at Gaius’ absent nod, Daffyd turned to greet this fledgling member of the ‘family’ cordially.

“Master?” The redhead stopped at the edge of the raised platform where the Master held his court, cocking her head to the side like a bird. “I woke up alone...”

“Come here, little one”, Gaius entreated her, reaching down to give her unnecessary aid in climbing up. “I didn’t expect you awake so soon. You feel well? Strong?”

“Yes...” She seemed hesitant, oddly enough. Daffyd wondered if the ancient blood had done something to her mind. That would just end the day perfectly. “Yes...Master.” Ahhh.

“Father, child”, Gaius corrected indulgently. “You may call me Father.” Turning to the rest of the assembled, Gaius indicated Daffyd and the rest and introduced them. “My other children: Brigid and Brodick, the twins, Ursula, and young Lucas, who is only five hundred and twelve. These are all of my direct line, and their Childer rule the scores of minions who you see in these tunnels. Daffyd here is your cousin, the son of my sister Gwyneth. You recall?”

“Of course...” The little redhead glanced at her siblings with only mild interest. The twins glared in turn, but knew better than to speak out against family in their Sire’s presence. Ursula seemed distracted as usual, and barely looked at Willow before she went back to braiding her midnight black hair into cornrows. Lucas, on the other hand, devoured his little sister with his eyes. Daffyd sighed internally at the thought of Lucas attracting a mate.

“A pleasure, cousin”, Daffyd said silkily as it became clear that none of the others would speak. Courteously, he bowed at the waist, intrigued at once by the spark of calculation in her eyes as she smiled back at him. If Gaius had managed to spawn a clever Childe...

Gaius stroked a hand over the shining hair, and Daffyd grinned behind one hand. Brigid was already resentful. Much more attention lavished on the fledgling, and Daffyd wouldn’t be surprised if there were a full-scale war.

How...amusing.

“She’s not well”, Giles admitted slowly. He and Oz sat on the couch, their thoughts on the apparently sleeping Slayer outside. “She may be mad.”

“What do you think she meant, ‘not yet’?” Oz chewed thoughtfully on his sandwich. Giles had been assigned dinner duty, and the fare was at least passable. The Watcher hadn’t touched any food since morning. Buffy had been disinterested in eating since Willow’s disappearance.

“God only knows”, Giles responded mournfully, shaking his head. “It may not mean anything. She could be plotting to kill us. There’s really no way of knowing.”

“You don’t believe that”, Oz said with certainty. “Do you think I should bring her a sandwich?”

“Do you think she’ll eat?” Oz glanced at the despondent adult and wondered why the Watcher and Slayer were both so depressed.

“I’ve got a question for you”, Oz offered thoughtfully. “Is there any kind of spell that makes people...especially Slayers...act like Buffy?” Or you.

Giles’ brows drew together as he pondered. “Not as such, I think. Large concentrations of demonic energy can cause negative physical effects in the Slayer. It could also be withdrawal from the Hellmouth.” Oz raised a brow at the diagnosis, and Giles smiled sheepishly. “I had thought about it, briefly. Unfortunately, in Buffy’s case, I blame the emotional trauma of losing Willow and Xander.”

Oz glanced outside and stiffened almost imperceptibly. “It’s dark out.” Giles leapt off the couch and stared out the window in horror at the darkness.

“Dear God, Buffy...” Without another word, both men ran out the French doors and hurtled toward the gazebo.

Buffy glanced up at their approach and frowned in puzzlement. As Giles and Oz entered, she uncurled from the chair and cocked her head to the side, curious. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s dark”, Oz pointed out rationally. Giles had stopped short, and was leaning against the railing, trying to collect himself.

Buffy shrugged and glanced around the yard. “She’s not coming yet. She’s not ready.” Completely unconcerned, the blond lay back down and sighed, prepared to sleep the whole night outside. Oz was perplexed, but at a loss.

There was a moment of silence, and then Giles stepped forward grimly and grabbed Buffy by the arm, hauling her up from her perch roughly.

“You stupid chit”, Ripper snarled, barely able to keep himself from beating her senseless. He shook her viciously and threw her out of the gazebo, watching her fall to the ground with satisfaction. “Get in that bloody house before I kill you.”

Buffy stared up at her Watcher with wide, fearful eyes and scrambled to her feet. “G-Giles?”

“NOW!” he roared. Buffy turned and ran, bolting into the house afraid for her life. Oz watched Buffy run, his brow creased in thought, and then turned to Giles, who shook as he removed his glasses and began to polish them. “I don’t know how not to hurt her”, the former librarian admitted to the silent werewolf. “It seems that it’s all I can do.”

“No”, Oz told him honestly. “But you’re pretty good at it.”

Alexander watched Willow carefully as the Master showed her all of their secrets. She absorbed the information with Willow-ish intensity, responded slowly but accurately to her sire’s touches and words.

She was good.

But not good enough to fool her bestest friend in the world.

It was the food, really. When they brought the old man for her...she should have been ravenous. The newly risen were notorious for their appetites. But her eyes flickered and she hesitated. Even from across the room Alex could see the regret in Willow.

She ate him, of course. Will was a smart girl.

Unfortunately for her, Alex was smarter.