TITLE: Extreme Measures
AUTHOR: Ophelia / Rainie
EMAIL: ophelia_rd@yahoo.com - rainee_sl@yahoo.com.au
DISCLAIMER: Joss, not I.
DISTRIBUTION: Let me know where it's going
CATEGORY:
RATING: M
PART: 1/4
FEEDBACK: Yes please!!!
VISIT ME: http://www.oocities.org/dra_gon_fly_er/
NOTE: Please be patient with the dyslectic and the seven and a half finger typist, we are trying - honestly!
Extreme Measures 1/4
"So," the tiny blonde warily gazed at her friends. "How's she?"
The two figures exchanged a quick helpless look.
"She almost staked Spike…," Willow finally offered with a wry smile.
"Giles?"
The watcher's face tightened under Buffy's questioning eyes.
Never ever in all of his life had he expected a scenario like this.
He'd envisioned her dead - slaughtered.
Maybe even drained of her lifeblood.
But this…
His slayer…
His little girl…
Why hadn't he listened to her complaints?
Why hadn't he believed her when she told him she was tired?
Why hadn't he allowed her to go home?
Why hadn't he…?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Hot tears built up behind his already red-trimmed eyes.
Swallowing hard, he looked down at the motionless figure.
"I'm so sorry…"
Tears running freely, the watcher collapsed onto a nearby chair.
"Giles!"
With an apologetic look at her friend Willow awkwardly patted the Englishman's back.
Her eyes, however, never strayed from her friend's mask-like white face.
It tore her guts to see Buffy like this.
"It was an accident," she eventually whispered, her trembling hand rubbing Giles' shoulder. "…Buffy…?"
Flustered she willed her friend to say something - anything - to calm the weeping man.
"Stop it, Giles."
The slayer's voice was so low it almost got lost in the too big, too sterile hospital room.
Her eyes fell shut.
"We've been through this again and again."
Her hand quivered when she reached for the traction and tried to pull herself up.
Successless.
Sweat pouring down her grayish cheeks Buffy heavily fell back on the mattress.
Willow's heart bleated.
To see her friend helpless like that tore on her substance.
But just as Buffy she was sick and tired of the destructive 'what if' game.
Unfortunately Giles hadn't sent her back home.
Unfortunately he had insisted on her hunting down that CerJthag demon.
Unfortunately he hadn't foreseen the blasted the things deal with the Hellmouth's newest Master candidate…
Against her better knowledge Willow once again silently pleaded with her exhausted friend.
She knew Buffy would only be able to offer comfort so many times until she'd finally need a shoulder to cry on herself.
So far she had adapted to the whole situation remarkably well - calm, composed.
Almost as though she hadn't yet realized the true dimension of her injuries.
Maybe she still hoped for a miracle - for her slayer strength and enhanced healing ability to miraculously fix what the doctors had proclaimed to be hopeless. After all, Spike had spent months in a wheelchair and his scattered spine had eventually healed.
Willow cringed by the sight of the lone tear making its way down the slayer's set face.
"You saved my life."
Her voice still was so soft that Willow had to hold her breath to actually make out the words.
She reached for the other girl's tiny hand and gently covered it with her own.
"They would have killed me, Giles. Without you the Council would have put me down like some useless old dog…"
Alarmed Willow tightened her hold on the slayer's small hand.
"…they would have killed me, Giles, because of this god-damned legs…"
Her voice faded and Willow felt they better retreated really, really quickly.
Squeezing her friend's icy hand one more time the redhead hurried to lead the watcher out of the room.
"How's she?"
Like a flash of lightening the peroxide blonde vampire grabbed her by the wrist the moment they stumbled into the soulless waiting area.
He didn't wait for an answer.
Willow's haunted green eyes and the dissolved, sniffling watcher told him all he needed to know.
"Buffy!"
Uncaring about visiting hours or hospital protocol Spike barged into the slayer's bedroom.
Sensing her sadness and despair he involuntarily growled at the girl.
After days and days of being denied access to Buffy he should have expected her weak.
But to actually come face to face with that weakness made him freeze on spot.
"Slayer…?"
It almost took him a full minute to find his composure.
Shaking his head several times he eventually pulled the door shut behind him.
"What's the waterworks all about?"
Despise his nonchalant opening he immediately pulled her into a tight embrace.
"Spike!!!"
Eyes big as saucers, the tiny blonde pulled away.
When she brought herself to look up again, she caught one last glimpse of a very un-spikey hot blush.
"Sorry, pet." He apologized, but nonetheless continued to thread his fingers through hers.
They quietly sat till Buffy's eyes wavered and her droopy brown eyes eventually fell shut.
***
"Spike!?"
The strangely familiar, yet, almost forgotten low voice made the peroxide blonde nearly jump out of his skin.
Growling at the unwelcome intruder, Spike drowsily glared at towards the dark silhouette.
"C'mon, boy," Strong hands worked their magic on the tense muscles of his back. "It's almost dawn."
For the fracture of a second the blonde dared to relax.
"Hairball!"
Shrugging off the cold comfort of the other man's touch, Spike quickly jumped to his feet, his hand, however, religiously holding on to the slayer's frail wrist.
"We've gotta talk!"
Careful, as though not to startle the blonde, Angel covered Buffy and Spike's entwined fingers with his own much bigger hand. He could sense the younger man's despair and briefly wondered since when Dru's reprobate spawn had been harboring feelings for the often and loudly proclaimed much hated slayer.
He bit down on his cheeks up to the point where he drew blood.
The tears, however, wouldn't stop.
They quietly kept falling.
They quietly kept staining his handsome dark face.
"Why didn't you bother to ring? Why didn't anybody bother to ring?"
Unable to maintain his strong mask, Angel quickly pulled Spike away from the sound asleep figure.
"If not for Cordie's vision…"
His voice broke and he visibly struggled for composure.
"Cordie had a vision?" Willow stepped closer. "Did she see if Buffy…"
The look Angel shot her was one of utter annoyance.
"Well, imagine my surprise," the dark-haired man snarled. "When Cordelia told me that a new slayer had been called…"
They all held their breaths when all of a sudden Angel's human mask dropped and his demon-self growled in their faces.
"Well, imagine mine!"
Only Spike seemed to be rather unimpressed.
"What?" He pouted defensively at his friends knowing leers.
"Almost staked me, the bloody bitch!"
***
"You are sure this is the right address?"
For seven long hours the five friends had shadowed the huge villa.
Seven hours in which they had - flocked in Giles' ancient Citroen - watched more than fifty vampires wander in and out the castle-like structure.
In fact the very castle-like structure the Council of Watchers had provided Giles as the new slayer's current address.
So far there had been no sign of the new girl, or her watcher.
And since even Spike didn't dare to simply waltz in, they were in no position to say what may or may not might had happened to them.
However, the mere knowledge of the new slayer's address matching Sunnydale's newest master's home made all of them feel more than a little distressed.
***
"Prepare to die, slayer!"
The five waiting figures nearly jumped as high as the black-haired young girl marching along the walkway.
However, she didn't flinch and hardly reacted at all, when a massive, fully-fledged vampire all of a sudden jumped her from out of the bushes and vigorously grabbed her from behind.
Five hands simultaneously reached for the door - and froze on spot.
"Get off of me, you ugly old toad!"
The skinny girl grimaced.
Much to their surprise the massive arm dropped.
"Look who's talking, you gawky dumb bitch!"
The giant offender fell in step with the girl.
Breathlessly, they watched the odd couple.
"You realized it's still another 10 meters," the obviously offended girl snapped, poking her obnoxious companion with the blunt end of what only could be a stake. "I could still dust you, and wouldn't even violate a single house rule!"
For several long seconds vampire and slayer glared at one another, then the demon façade eventually retreated - giving way to a surprisingly handsome human face.
"Ohmigod…"
Giles' stammered statement made his fellow spies' heads fly around.
"What is it, Rupert?"
Angel gazed at the horrified man.
"That's him…," the watcher managed at last, his wild eyes still staring at the attractive male face. "That's Damian Bennett…," by now his voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. "That's her watcher…"
***
For almost ten minutes they sat in perfect silence.
Only the heartbeats of the three mortals supplying some background music.
"She's not a vampire," Spike finally stated in no uncertain terms. "So calm down everyone - and for fuck's sake start breathing again!"
It was his way of coping - bitching and snarling at what- or whoever came in handy.
He knew, of course, that this kind of attitude wasn't too big a help, however, it was the only - his only - way of dealing with his trepidation and fury.
Oh, he knew what was on their minds, having seen the new slayer's interaction with the turned watcher.
"Could he possibly have a soul?"
The answer was no.
Plain and simple.
The former watcher's despise for the girl had been emanating from him in waves.
At some point he may have been her teacher, but it was plain obvious that, with the demon in charge non-of that former loyalty was left.
This man hated the slayer, period!
It had been clear to him the moment the hulking figure had jumped the young girl.
And by the look of Angel's stunned features, the other man must have figured the same.
On the other hand, the turned watcher hadn't given in to his hatred.
In fact he'd readily obeyed the much-hated girl - which was a pretty amazing thing by itself.
Spike didn't dare to think this line through.
A mortal - a slayer of all - respected by a vampire.
Obviously accepting home and protection of…
Yeah, of whom?
The new master?
An icy shiver crept up Spike's spine.
***
"You better keep them away from her!"
Too terrified to cry, Buffy simply stared at the unannounced visitor.
Her already pale cheeks had drained of all color, when the very creature responsible for her ill condition had waltzed through the door.
She was horrified - what if the CerJthag demon had come back to finish his job?
Non of her friends were around…
She cried - silently.
Cursed her crippled legs.
Cursed her inability to defend herself.
"You hear me, human?" The creature's giant scaled hand clamped down on her throat. "You keep that little friend of yours away from the slayer!"
***
"Sire?"
His scent had roused him long before the door had been opened.
Long before the beam of sunlight had swiftly brushed across his chest.
And long before the slim figure had quietly slipped into his bedroom.
"Spike!"
Angel gracefully sat up.
There was no need to pretend - to prolong the inevitable.
"What brings you here, in the middle of the day?"
The dark-haired man didn't bother to switch on the light; knowing perfectly well Dru's childe had perfect night vision.
However, when after more than five minutes Spike still hadn't uttered one word, the older man seriously felt tempted to reach for the switch.
"It's Duncan."
For the fracture of a second the younger vampire's eyes lit up in a phosphorous flash.
Duncan…
He hadn't thought about Duncan for years…
Neither had he sensed his presence for… for… bloody forever!
He had been Darla's first - her favorite - childe.
They'd already spent eternity together long before she'd come across Angel.
Duncan…
Vicious and cruel.
A ruthless killer.
Not that they'd ever met.
Once again, he'd left the fold long before Angel was sired.
And for some reason he had never managed to get Darla to talk about what had happened between Duncan and her.
However, according to the latest grapevine rumors the other man was considered a legend amongst other vampires.
A soulless monster backed up by his private little army.
A master of tactics.
Never subdued.
Never conquered.
However, somewhat of a ghost, a myth, his men very much keeping to themselves during the last couple of years.
There had been hearsay about this - of course - horrible theories about warm, inbred blood within the lair.
Angel shuddered.
He shot a quick look at Spike.
He also knew that the blonde, although he'd never actually met Darla's first childe, had always looked up at Duncan, thought of them as two of one kind - either being able to feel and express human emotions.
"Are you sure?"
Angel eventually approached his uncharacteristically quiet grandchilde.
Directly address, the blonde gave him a quick confirming nod.
And for some reason this quiet, thoughtful nod freaked the dark-haired man more than any of his usual spiteful comebacks.
***
"…vampire or human, if you take away everything a man holds dear - everything that defines this particular creature, you not just destroy the man, you also create a monster…!" Edward Duncan O'Connor, Eire, 1692
***
"He wants to see you - now!"
Thunder-like the voice of the monstrous CerJthag demon echoed through the huge hallway, the very moment watcher and slayer stepped through the heavily padded wooden door.
"Well, Damian, you better hurry then - you know how much he hates to wait…"
The black-haired girl didn't bat a lash.
Her gaze impassively, almost bored traveled from the growly scaled giant toward the man who once had been her watcher.
Oh sure, she knew perfectly well that neither one of them appreciated her sense of humor - but after nearly six years amongst her master's pet soldiers it took a hell of a lot more than an angry growl or a threatening snarl to make her budge.
The hulking demon shot her a pointed look.
"Jasmine. Upstairs. Now."
However, the amused sparkle in the CerJthag's usually stony black eyes belied his harsh words.
Not wanting to push her luck, the girl gave him a mock salute before she seemingly obedient stormed of.
After all, there was no need to feed Tweety to the wolves, when the pack was crying for Sylvester.
Okay, maybe it was more like Tweety and Godzilla and even that in reversed parts.
However, there was no way denying the fact she kinda liked the big, ugly wannabe bad-ass.
Although she couldn't really say why.
Maybe because he actually treated her as a person.
Or maybe because he had proven loyalty to her during the last couple of months.
Or maybe it was simply for the fact that he, unlike his vampire predecessors, wasn't drooling over her blood.
***
"Got ya, bugger!"
With a grim smile of satisfaction at the unmistakable crash, the peroxide blonde went flying through the 'You are leaving Sunnydale' sign - never minding Angel's shiny new car.
He was on a mission.
They needed help?
Needed inside knowledge?
And he was just about to get them just that!
***
And two hundred miles away from Sunnydale in a stuffy dark hotel room somewhere in downtown LA a pale raven-haired figure sat up with a start.
"We'll be going home soon, Darla."
Dreamy black eyes searched for the motionless form occupying the windowsill.
"You hear me, Darla? My Spike is coming to take us home."
***
//This is the answering machine of Rupert Giles, I can't come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number I'll call you back as soon as I can.//
"Mr. Giles… this is Joyce Summers, Buffy's mother… It's the hospital…, they called… There is something wrong with Buffy, apparently she went into a coma… My baby… Oh my God…"
***
"My Lord…"
The black-haired girl respectfully bowed in front of her master.
"Didn't that useless CerJthag bastard tell you to see me as soon…"
"…as I had some dinner? …and a shower? …and patched up my leg? You want me to go on?"
The two lone figures sullenly glared at one another.
"You spoiled little shithead!"
With an angry growl and two long strides the furious man grabbed the throat of the yet unimpressed girl.
"Where the fuck have you been?"
The skinny slayer stood her ground.
"Let me think," her burning green eyes drilled into his gleaming golden ones. "The graveyard, maybe? Or was it the graveyard? Oh no, wait a sec, it may have been the graveyard!"
Her gaze never wavered from the seething tall man.
"That's it - tomorrow you're taking that nuisance of a CerJthag to patrol!"
As if to empathize his point the vampire viciously squeezed her shoulders and throat.
"I'm sick of worrying sick - got that?"
They stared at one another with grim anger.
Then, all of a sudden the fierce hands let go and strong arms almost tenderly pulled her close.
"Tell me, Jasmine, what would you do in my place?"
For one second all the venom had vanished from his voice.
"It wasn't his fault - if the slayer hadn't…"
Her protest died on her lips under his unforgiving cold glare.
"Excuses, my dear, nothing but excuses - truth is, he's a liability to you and the lair!"
***
Something wasn't quite right.
With and unhappy sigh Darla glared at the sleeping Drusilla - her sire.
Even the thought felt strange to her.
For all that many years she'd loathed and despised the raven-haired lunatic.
And now…
All of a sudden she caught herself seeking her nearness.
It must have been the blood.
A part of her sire's personality imprinting on her.
Fortunately she had been spared the madness - although this new jovial wickedness she'd been blessed with took more than a little to get used to by itself.
She had a pretty good idea how the old Darla - both vampire and human - had been.
And this new, most recent character traits simply weren't her.
She'd never been needy.
Never been compassionate.
Or even worse, on the giggly side.
She'd even inherited a genuine likeness for William.
And more than a bit of hero-worship for her way out of line childe.
Plus, and probably weirdest, a healthy dose of respect for the girl over who same childe had turned against her.
She quietly crossed the room to sit next to her sire.
"Why can't you be a little more sane…?"
Darla carefully reached for the other woman's cold hand.
"I could really do with a good heart-to-heart."
Her long dead heart gave a start, when all of a sudden Darla found herself face to face with a very much awake Drusilla.
Her cheeks flushed in a brilliant shade of pink and the fair-haired vampiress immediately let go of Dru's hand.
Drusilla, however, seemed to be blessedly unaware of her childe's profound embarrassment.
"One wrong decision may changes a million lives."
Lucid black eyes importantly locked with hers.
"And one wrong death may destroy…"
+…destiny…+
Darla's face crumpled.
One wrong decision…
One wrong death…
She gladly succumbed to the spontaneously comfort of her sire's cold embrace.
One wrong death…
Her eyes stung.
All of a sudden things seemed to make sense.
All of a sudden unlife - once again - seemed to fall into pieces.
***
"Joyce…, eh Mrs. Summers…?"
Uncaring about hospital procedures Rupert Giles burst into the waiting area.
"I-I-I came as s-s-soon as I got your message…"
He panic-stricken gazed at crying woman.
"H-h-how is B-B-Buffy, I mean, is she a-a-alright?"
Never in his whole life had he felt so helpless, so afraid.
His Buffy, his little girl - in a coma…
Right now, he hated the Council of Watchers with a passion.
How could they take away her slayer's powers while she was so sick?
Sure, he neither wanted to risk another Faith, but…
This was Buffy!
Hot tears built up behind his eyes.
He rapidly tried to blink them away, all the while pulling the desperate blonde woman into a comforting embrace.
***
"I'm gonna get help - borrowed your car keys."
***
A steep frown on his face Angel stared at the untidy, almost indecipherable message.
The bloody little prick!
In spike-y terms help always had and always would mean Drusilla.
No matter how mad and unpredictable she had become through the years.
He was the childe and she was the sire.
And Angel instinctively knew that despise their break-up and many harsh words Spike trusted his daughter.
His undead heart clenched in shock, when realization hit.
Best intentions in mind, Spike had gone to recruit Drusilla!
Not knowing about the latest escapade of 'Wolfram & Hart".
Angel loudly groaned by the mere thought of the blonde bumping into Darla.
***
Idiots!
I'm surrounded by idiots!
The tall lion maned vampire grumpily shook his head.
How much more of his carefully laid out plan could possibly go wrong?
Yeah, sure, he'd been the one striving to take over from where the old master had failed…
However, he'd intended to maintain a low profile, just as he had done the previous six years…
Stay away from the slayer…
But instead…
He still was more than a little pissed off with the clumsy idiot of a CerJthag.
Why the heck did he have to go after the slayer?
It wasn't as though his orders hadn't been explicitly clear: "Watch her back but don't get yourself caught!"
And what had the dopey bastard done?
Not just had he got himself spotted the very first night - not, he'd even let himself get involved in a fight.
And, best of all, he had to hit her that unfortunately that she wouldn't only be out long enough for him to make a run but unable to use her legs again - ever.
Goddamned idiot!
He thoughtfully looked down at the sleeping girl.
He'd know it had only been a matter of time.
No matter how often he'd made Damian launch an inquiry, the C.O.W. had always been frustratingly vague as far as the identity of their next Chosen One had been concerned.
But he'd known it all along.
Had felt it in his guts that their time had been up.
He carefully reached for one shiny black lock.
Why now?
He sighed.
All he needed had been another tow years.
A low rumble emanated from deep within his chest.
And he abruptly let go of the strand of dark hair.
"Damian!" He icily addressed the waiting ex-watcher.
"Get in touch with Rupert Giles - arrange a meeting. I want to know what he knows, and Damian," he fixed the other man with an intimidating dark look. "Make sure that his goonies stay away from my slayer!"
***
"Spike…? …? Spike…?"
Angel, Willow, Xander and Giles awkwardly watched the trashing blonde girl.
Fortunately the coma had only lasted for a couple of hours - although long enough to give them a murderous fright.
Giles had called them the moment he'd found Joyce Summers' panicky message on his answer phone.
The three friends had arrived shortly after the watcher, who at that time had been patiently trying to calm down a more than desperate, sobbing Joyce.
Together they had just about managed to talk her into a cup of hot chocolate and a sleeping tablet, when an elderly doctor had popped by to inform them that the changes in Buffy's brainwaves were indicating that she might be waking from coma - soon…
This had been four hours ago.
"Spike…? …?"
Angel flinched, when the little girl once again cried out for his grandchilde.
What the fuck had been going on between the two of them since he'd moved to LA?
Last thing he knew they'd hated each others guts with a passion - and now…
Not only did he have to discover that Drusilla's non-good brat actually seemed to have made a 180, but also did he have to listen to his one true love calling of for said shithead in her sleep.
The dark-haired vampire sighed.
Unlife suckled!
"Spike?"
Buffy's eyelids fluttered.
"Angel???" Her voice was tiny, agape, as though she couldn't quite believe he actually was there.
"Oh Buffy…"
A fat happy smile on his face Xander made a mad dash for his drowsy friend.
"You're okay… I knew you'd be okay… I just knew it… Oh, Buff…, I'm so glad you're okay…"
One by one they all stepped a little closer - to squeeze her hand, or pet her shoulder, or as in Xander's case pull her in a bone-crushing embrace.
Only Angel, and the sound asleep Joyce, visibly kept their distance.
"Angel…?"
The former slayer silently pleaded with the vampire.
Without success.
"What is it between you and Spike?"
The dark-haired man barked at her, openly displaying his already more than obvious anger.
Four pair of eyes drilled into Angel - stunned, unbelieving, anxious and hurt.
"Let's pretend I never heard that!"
Hot tears soaked the tiny blonde's face, making him feel guilty and foul.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," the vampire eventually apologized. "It's just…, just… I'm sorry…"
He took a deep shaky unneeded breath.
"It's just that Spike took me car…"
Four curious gazes urged him to go ahead.
"Well, he left a note saying he'd get us some help…"
"That's good, right?" Willow tried to lighten up the atmosphere with an tentative smile. "I mean help, it's good… I mean, it's… help?"
"He's going to get Drusilla," Buffy stated.
It wasn't a question, Angel noticed, now was there a trace of uncertainty in her voice.
They must have gotten really close for her to know him that well.
Hot shock waves of jealousy welled up in him and he had to bite his bottom lip hard in order to bite back a rather harsh comment.
"Yes, he is going to get Drusilla."
The dark-haired vampire confirmed instead in a grave voice, his eyes avoiding the petite blonde.
How was he supposed to tell them about Darla?
Buffy would be horrified, after all, his sire had already gone for her mother once before.
"Eh, Angel…, I-I-is there something…, something you think w-w-we should…, should know?"
Having caught the vampire's perturbed frown, Giles quietly voiced his concern.
"Yeah, c'mon, Bloodbreath, spit it out," Xander, after a quick look at the brunette's tense face, hit in the same curb. "We're all kinda sick of unpleasant surprises."
Angel sighed, much as he hated to admit it, but the annoying pup was right.
He had to tell them about Darla - maybe not about Wolfram & Hart and how and why exactly they had brought her back.
But they had to know about his most recent grandchilde, former sire…
"It's not so much Dru, but her latest escort…"
Incomprehension all over them, Buffy, Willow, Xander and Giles stared at him.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Willow finally supplied with an comforting nod. " We don't mind her bringing her Fungi Demon."
"We don't mind her bringing what???" Xander anxiously jumped to his feet. ""Do you remember the last time the nutty cow set foot on Sunnydale? Angel lost his soul, the world was about to come to an end and…"
"It's Darla."
"DARLA???"
"DARLA???"
"DARLA???"
"DARLA???"
He might just as well could have told them Angelus was back.
They all sat rigid - string at him with saucer-like eyes.
"Yes, Darla - and please, don't ask me why, it's a long story."
Maybe it was the resigned note in his voice, or the additional strain in his eyes… Angel couldn't say, but much to his surprise no further inquiries were made.
"Well, this sure is big news," Buffy gave him a wry smile. "My news almost seems boring to this," she grimaced and drew in a shaky breath.
"Well, what is it, Buff?" Xander impatiently urged her to continue.
The little girl shuddered.
It wasn't on of her most favorite memories.
To be perfectly honest it was the one she rather not remembered.
"He's been back," she finally blurt out without further ado. "The CerJthag demon that's been trying to off me - it warned me, warned all of us - to stay away from the new slayer."
***
7.18 a.m.
The old house sat quiet in 25 Draper Street.
As always this time of the day.
That was quiet apart from a blaring alarm clock and a drowsy, raven-haired girl seemingly in slow motion slurping down the stairs, an equally drowsy, yet, bald, purplish, scaled demon hard on her heels.
"What are you having for breakfast, Jas?"
"Two pints of 0-negative, plus the raw heart of a Tharg."
The CerJthag gave her a dirty look.
"Anybody ever told you you're watching far too much TV?"
The girl only grinned, her piercing green eyes lightening up.
"Hey, you've actually got it - I had Damian puzzling for days!"
She giggled delightedly.
"And I'll have at least three peanut butter and apricot jam sandwiches, thank you very much - and how come you are in such submissive a mood, tell me, Sherlock, what have you been up to that Duncan isn't supposed to know?"
The massive demon shook his head with a groan.
"You're sure about this non-kin-thing?"
The new slayer laughed, helping herself to some toast.
"Yip, positive and more," she grinned. "Well, I'm all ear!"
For a couple of minutes they sat in silence, either busy with their very own thoughts.
"Well?" Jasmine eventually waggled her brows at the CerJthag. "Why don't you tell me already?"
A suffering expression on his usually expressionless face the purple demon glared at the girl.
"Why would you think…?" He started before he unhappily gave up. "Oh, what the heck…"
He buried his big scaly head in his four-fingered hands.
"I went to the slayer - the old one…," he heavily confessed. "Thought I make up…, tell her and her little pals to stay out of your way…"
Helpless black eyes peered up at her from behind big purple hands.
"So, what went wrong?"
The slayer visibly amused met his gaze.
"Dunno…," she was told in a dull voice. "I might have been a little too convincing - too straight forward…?"
Slayer and demon simultaneously scrunched up their noses.
"She's still alive, isn't she?"
The nasty sparkle in her brilliant green eyes betrayed her shocked expression.
"Yeah…"
"So, she's still alive - great, what more could you want?" Laughter sounded in her crystal clear voice.
"Well, I guess she went - how can I say - sorta in a coma…?"
"Sorta in a coma?"
The raven-haired girl exploded in laughter, spraying half of her sandwich across the kitchen table.
"A coma… this is too rich…," she hastily drew in a big gulp of air. 'Sherlock, please may I stay home today?"
She pleaded with big puppy-dog eyes.
"Please, let me stay home - Don't make me miss Duncan's face!"
***
"Wretched, mean CerJthag - won't let me have any fun!"
Pouting at her reflection in the large picture window, Jasmine thoroughly tuned out Mrs. Sheffield plus her whole lecture about chemicals and Period Systems.
***
//This is the answering machine of Rupert Giles, I can't come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number I'll call you back as soon as I can.//
"Mr. Giles? This is Damian Bennett - I assume the C.O.W. has informed you that a new slayer has been called. If it's not too big an inconvenience I'd like the two of us to meet. Let's say tomorrow night, 8.00 p.m. - I'll pop by at your place."
***
It had been a long night.
Long and boring and maybe - only maybe - even a teeny-weeny little bit scrupulous because of the car he had taken.
Nah, no ill conscience because of the hedgehog!
After all, Angel hadn't even reacted, barely acknowledged the things he'd discovered about the new master.
Maybe he was getting over the slayer, eventually.
Time could do that to a man, even a vampire.
Not everybody was like him, bloody fool that he was.
Especially not his grandsire.
Spike stopped at a small 24 hours petrol station not too far from 'Angel Investigations' and opened his mind to the always-present yet recently severely suppressed childe-sire-wire.
She definitely was here, in LA.
So much he had managed to tickle out of the older vampire.
The question was - where?
He could sense her vaguely and instinctively knew she wouldn't be stupid enough to stay anywhere too close to Angel's.
With a sigh he went to pay for the gas.
Now he was ready, prepared for a long night of cruising some of the darkest alleys of downtown LA.
Only guided by the intensity, or lack of, of the strange omnipresent link.