Banner by Selene

Chapter 19

In flight
Somewhere over the United States

Once the plane leveled out, the three passengers unbuckled their safety belts settling more comfortably in their seats. A few minutes later, Wesley stood up and grabbed the bag that had all his research on the Draemuir dimension. He placed the stuff out on the adjacent table and got back to work. It wasn’t long before Fred joined him.

Angel just sat in his chair, lost in thought, as the jet slowly made its way towards Rome. He didn’t know what to feel. On the one hand, he knew that Buffy had moved on from their relationship. She had even told him that Spike was in her heart. What that meant, he wasn’t really sure. He hadn’t asked for details during their last meeting, just calmly went home when she told him to. He’d even started to move on... sort of. There was a lot of drama that signified his relationship - or what passed for his relationship - with Cordelia. Unfortunately, she was still in a coma after the whole Jasmine fiasco, and they were never really able to hash out what they meant to each other. Not that there really ever could be anything thanks to the happiness clause of his curse.

His tentative relationship with Spike was another matter. His grandchilde was family, or what passed for family for vampires. Most times, Spike was a pain in the ass, and it was easy to put the vamp from his mind. But Spike had taken a step, one that he could not discount.

Deep in his soul, he knew that Buffy and he could never truly be together. As much as they both may have once wished it were so. He would carry the memory of that day he was human until he was dust, but it was time to let her go and have her shot at happiness.

With that thought uppermost in his mind, he vowed he would help find a way to get Buffy better and deal with this demon from the Draemuir dimension. Turning to his two friends huddled over several books, he asked, “So, Wes, what have you learned about this Draemuir dimension?”

Wesley stopped what he was doing and looked up at Angel. “Quite a lot actually. The Draemuir dimension is ruled by a class of demons called the Draelorns. They’re shape-shifters, after a sort. Similar in appearance to humans, thus very difficult to differentiate to the untrained eye. They’re a vicious lot, ruling with strength and fear. The positive is that they rule over their dimension are content to stay there. I honestly don’t know why someone bearing their markings would be here in this dimension.”

“I guess the Draelorns aren’t content to play nice in their own house anymore. But I’m with you... why would they come here? It’s not like were running on a shortage of slayers anymore.” Angel had no way of knowing how prophetic his words were. None of them did. “I’m assuming that they can be killed, right? We’re not talking gods and goddesses here, are we?”

“Ah, no. Nothing in my research indicates that they can’t be killed like any other demon inhabiting this earth. Although, we have to allow for some leeway between dimensions. As for the markings Buffy’s attacker bore, I guess their essence can’t be sustained in this dimension without them. So, if we notice a run on marked demons, we’ll have a heads-up.”

“Okay. Mark that in the plus column. Easily identifiable.”

~*~*~*~*~

Rome
5:00 p.m. Local Time

Giles breathed a sigh of relief when the car came to a stop in front of their destination. He watched as Dawn glanced over at him and rolled her eyes. Typical teenagers. He had probably lost ten years of his life and gained another hundred gray hairs after that roller coaster adventure they referred to as driving.

“Er, yes. We’ve made it,” Giles said aloud to the passengers at large. He doubted anyone heard his mumbled, “praise God.” Opening the passenger door, he stepped out on shaky legs. Reacquainted himself with the nice, non-moving ground beneath his feet before walking around to the back of the vehicle to retrieve his luggage. Once the back hatch was open, he grabbed the two largest pieces and headed for the front door. Dawn and Francesca grabbed the remaining two pieces and followed behind after him. He heard them talking about typical teenager stuff as they trailed along in his wake. No mention was made about Buffy’s sickness. Maybe the vampire was right not to have Dawn made aware of the danger. Seeing her now, happy and carefree, was worth any flack they may catch at a later date.

He had to agree with what Spike had done; Dawn needed this normalcy. Though hell would freeze over before he would admit it to the vampire. Heaven forbid they ever agree on anything.

When they opened up the front door, Giles was surprised to see Spike descending the stairs to greet him. Looking at him, Giles would never know that this was the same vampire that had called him but a few hours ago in a panic. ‘No wonder he was so good at poker; he probably bluffed his way through every hand.’

Spike came to stand a few feet in front of Giles in the entryway. “Watcher,” Spike said by way of greeting. They didn’t shake hands, but Spike did grab one of the suitcases that Giles had placed on the floor. Turning on his heel, suitcase in hand, he headed for the stairs. “We put you in the room across from Buffy. Hope that’s alright.”

“That’ll be fine, Spike,” Giles replied, following the vampire as he made his way up to the second level. For the benefit of the other two girls, Spike said, “Buffy woke up again a bit ago. I got her to eat some soup, well, drink the broth anyway. Then she fell back asleep. I guess this bug is kicking her ar-, er” Spike censored himself at the last moment. “You know...”

“Well, at least she’s eating something,” Giles talked over the momentary silence, playing along with Spike’s story. “That’s always a good sign that you’re on the mend.” It seemed to be working. The two girls detected none of the undercurrents in the conversation between Spike and Giles. They assumed Buffy was just sick, nothing more.

Spike paused before the door across from Buffy’s room. He opened the door and stepped inside, placing the suitcase he had near the table. Giles and the two girls walked in behind him. Dawn and Francesca dropped the bags they were carrying then made a hasty retreat back down to the first level waving a quick “see ya” over their shoulders. When Spike was assured they were no longer in hearing range he spoke.

“She’s sleeping better now, but I can tell she’s in a lot of pain,” Spike said, the pain of uttering those words reflected in his gaze.

“Let me see her.”

Spike nodded and they crossed the hall to Buffy’s room. They slipped inside shutting the door behind them. Both men walked over to the bed where Buffy lay sleeping. Spike pulled the sheet back, revealing the t-shirt and panties he’d put on her. Carefully, he lifted the t-shirt up until it reached the underside of her breasts.

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” Spike asked, as he pulled up the t-shirt, exposing Buffy’s midriff.

A shocked gasp was his only answer as Giles go a good look at the bruised. “Dear lord!”

Spike glanced over his shoulder at the watcher’s exclamation and took pity on him upon spying the unshed tears in his eyes. “It’ll be alright, Rupert. The Slayer’s strong. She’s already woken up... twice even. She’s eaten a little something too. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out whatever it is that’s hurting her and fix it.”

Spike resettled the t-shirt down around Buffy’s hips and pulled the sheet back up over her. He pinned Giles with a stare, very much wanting to believe the words he had just uttered. He needed to believe them. He couldn’t live without Buffy. Didn’t want to.

The watcher had to make her better.

Giles got his emotions under control and muttered, “Quiet right. I’ll just go back across the hall and see what I can come up with.” Though he didn’t believe the lie that had just come out of his mouth. He had never seen anything quite like the bruise covering Buffy’s body. A bruise that appeared to be spreading... and quickly. He only hoped that Wesley could find out more about Buffy’s attacker. At least then they would have a starting point. Remembering Wesley, he told Spike, “I’m expecting faxes from your friends in Los Angeles about Buffy’s attacker. Hopefully, that will point us in the right direction for fixing this.”

“The fax machine is down in the office. You passed in on your way to the stairs. Which I’m sure you already know… so why am I telling you this? You can set up your stuff down there, or here. It’s up to you. The girls stay out of there for the most part, so you shouldn’t be interrupted. I’ll be with Buffy. Come get me if you need anything.”

Giles was almost to the door when Spike called out.

“Watcher? Thanks.”

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