But completely worthless? She hadn’t felt that way for a while.
Buffy sat down on the hard, hotel room bed and absently kicked at her overnight bag. Her chest hurt in the way that meant tears were coming soon.
He didn’t even want me to know he was alive? I thought we were past all the bad stuff especially after what happened at the end.
The feeling as she took his burning hand had been almost a good one, not pain so much as cleansing, blazing away the layers that had hidden him from her, getting rid of the doubt and indecision, finally letting her clearly see the love she’d hidden from herself for so long.
Spike had denied it, but she had thought it was just Spike being Spike. In that one moment, he must have seen her the way she’d finally seen him and known that she meant what she said with all of her heart.
Maybe that was the problem. After all those years of thinking he knew her, he finally saw what she really was and didn't like it.
Buffy swiped a hand across her cheek. It didn’t matter why it happened, she supposed. Whatever Spike had felt before, he didn’t love her now, and she was just going to have to live with that. Live without him.
And without Angel, since he and Spike were buddies now, like in those cop movies. They probably compared notes on what a rotten person she was. No, wait. They probably didn’t. It wasn’t about her.
At the memory, she sniffled angrily and kicked the overnight bag across the room. “I never wanted it to be about me. I would have left him alone if he wanted me to.”
Wouldn’t she? Was he afraid she’d have forced him to come back with her? Was he right?
Speaking of right, what right did she have to be upset about Angel? She made decisions without consulting Angel. She had other boyfriends without consulting Angel. All the while expecting him to wait around until she finished baking and made up her mind. To be convenient.
Buffy whimpered, the word ‘convenient’ bringing back memories she'd really rather not have.
They’re right, I am a bad person. No wonder Spike didn’t want to be around me. It’s amazing that anyone wants to be around me.
The tears were at the back of her throat, and Buffy reached for the phone before they overwhelmed her entirely. Agreeing to set check-in times had been the only way they’d let her come alone, and even then, Dawn had slammed a few cabinets.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Will. It’s me.”
She thought she sounded normal, but Willow’s “Spike’s alive, isn’t he?” was soft and sad.
Her eyes brimmed over. “Yeah, he’s alive.”
In the background, she could hear Andrew insisting, “Tell her to give the code phrase so we’ll know it’s really Buffy and she’s really ok!”
“Give me the code phrase before Andrew explodes,” Willow sighed.
Buffy obediently said “Klatuu, barata nickto” with an eye-roll that was actually sort of comforting. She hoped she’d remembered the right phrase. One signaled ‘I’m ok’ and the other (she thought it was ‘There is no spoon’ whatever the hell that was) ‘Get down here with all the Slayers you can find and the axe’ phrase.
Words were exchanged in the background then Willow came back on. “I got rid of everybody. What happened?”
Buffy drew a shaky breath. “Oh, God.”
“Tell me.”
She recounted the meeting as calmly as she could, and tried her best not to cry audibly, but Willow exploded anyway.
“Those…those guys! I can’t believe they…oooh! And after all you…OOOH!” They’re…MEN…that’s what they are! Both of them!”
Buffy had to smile. “That bad, huh?”
“I know! I’ll turn them into toads and keep them in a terrarium so they won’t get kissed. No. One big toad with a head at each end! Nobody would ever kiss that!”
“Not if they want to get invited to the best parties.”
Buffy couldn’t help being slightly interested in the idea, but she’d spent too much time lecturing on ethics (Using Slayer powers on your teacher even if she did give you a bad grade was Not Cool). In the end, she persuaded Willow against spell-casting, carefully not wondering about vengeance demons and wishing, and hung up, feeling slightly better from Willow’s best girlfriend reaction.
But only slightly. After careful consideration, Buffy fell across the pillow and proceeded to cry her eyes out.
One pillow was thoroughly soaked and she was starting on the next when there was a quiet knock at her door.
Buffy opened her mouth to send them away when she suddenly realized it must be Spike or Angel, feeling guilty and there to apologize…which one do I wish it was? No, don’t go there...and threw herself off the bed and in front the mirror instead.
“Noooo,” she moaned under her breath at the sight of her snarled hair, swollen eyes, and bright red nose. It would take at least an hour to fix, and no matter how apologetic her guest was feeling, he wasn’t going to stand around in the hall while she primped. Well fine. Whoever it was could see how unhappy he’d made her and feel even worse. She drew herself up in wounded dignity and opened the door.
Her jaw dropped to her chest. “RILEY?!”
He filled the doorway, looking like a particularly chiseled rock formation in a well cut grey suit. His fair hair was stylishly arranged, a Rolex glinted at his wrist, and an expensive-looking briefcase dangled from one hand.
While I look worse than I did in the cow hat.
He looked at her gravely. “Buffy,” Then he looked more closely. “You’re hurt.” He pressed a button on the watch. “I need medical up here, stat.”
Her wits flew back into her head. “No, Riley, I’m not hurt. Uh, come in.”
“Cancel the call,” he said to his watch. “Thanks,” he added and entered the room.
“That’s it?” she asked. “How do they know you weren’t just taken prisoner?”
He turned his wrist and showed her two tiny buttons on the watch. “The one on the right means ‘all clear’ on the left means ‘come running’. Gets embarrassing if I mix them up.”
“Much niftier than having to remember the right dorky phrase.”
“Hey, whatever works,” he shrugged.
He was still standing, and Buffy realized that he would keep doing it until she sat, so she did, perching on the edge of the bed and waving him to the chair. Once seated, they both looked around the room awkwardly.
“Nice suit,” she said at last.
Riley grinned. “I’m under cover. Do I look like I’m brokering my next big movie deal?”
More like he was working toward an Eagle Scout badge, but why be mean? “I bet you can’t walk down the street without people trying to audition.”
“Sam said I looked like a church deacon.”
At least there’s one happy couple. Not that I really want to talk to one of those right now.
“Is she here?” Buffy asked politely. They could all go to dinner. Or she could drive a stake through her foot for an equally fun evenng.
“Not this time.” A smile tugged at his lips, then he sobered again. “Buffy, I have to ask. Why are you here? I know you went to Wolfram and Hart.”
She frowned. “How do you know? Are you keeping tabs on me?”
“Not in general, but when you bought a ticket for LA, it alerted the computer.” He looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I know it sounds like spying…mostly because it is. But we track all the major players we can. You never know when movement or sudden expenditures mean something big’s going down.”
“It seems weird to think of myself as a major player,” Buffy said. “Trust me, I feel like Little League or PeeWee Football most days.”
“Even if you feel that way, the Slayer is considered a pretty key figure occult-wise. Even if she is A Slayer and not The Slayer anymore.”
Buffy felt her eyebrows lift. “You know about that too? Do I need to sweep the house for bugs?”
“Are you kidding?” Riley laughed. “There was no way to miss that. When you Called every potential Slayer, and by the way, I’d love to get a look at the ax sometime, it threw everybody that had any psychic power at all for a loop. Visions, telekinetic events, poltergeists, three-legged calves, double-yolked eggs. You name it, it happened. So, yeah, we looked into it. Good setup by the way. Splitting the girls up was smart.”
“Thanks,” she said, warmed by the professional approval in his voice. “I thought if we had everybody in one place, it was like painting a big target on the roof, besides most of the first Potentials wanted to go home anyway. Then Faith said she needed to be someplace with more pollution and less cows, so she and Robin moved into the brownstone he inherited from his Mom’s Watcher with 5 of the junior high girls. He’s principal of their school, so that works out. We’ve got the four youngest ones.”
“I’ll bet you’re great with them,” Riley said.
“I don’t know about that,” Buffy laughed. “They follow Xander around mostly and do farm chores. It gets some of the energy out and they love it. Everyone’s got her own little tool belt.” Her laugh faded. “Some were in pretty bad situations before they got Chosen and needed more help than we knew how to give.” She shook away the memory of the scars on Ruthann’s back and the cigarette burns on the inside of Andrea’s thighs. “They’re with a coven Giles knows. The ax will keep Calling them, and as we find more, we’ll set up other placements.”
She didn’t share the fact that she thought Violet and Xander would be setting up their own place and possibly adding to the population. She’d wondered at the time why Violet wanted to stay at the farmhouse, but it had become clear to everyone but Xander fairly soon. He’d finally caught on, and was now switching between interest and being freaked out over the age difference even though Violet kept yelling that she was “19, DAMNIT!”.
“It sounds like an excellent setup,” Riley said again, but Buffy could tell he wasn’t paying attention.
“I have a feeling you didn’t come here to show off your suit or talk about my housing situation,” she said mildly. “What’s up? Why were you asking about Wol…about Angel, Wolfram and Hart?”
“Right, Angel, Wolfram, and Hart.” Riley stood and began pacing. “I know about you and Angel, naturally.” He began another circuit, “And I know they’ve done some work for you…newspapers this time,” he added. “Google is a great help in tab-keeping. But are you…close?”
Cold trickled down her spine. “Not so much, especially after today. Why, Riley? What’s wrong? Angel’s running it, and I know you don’t like him, but he’s good and the firm is too now.”
“I don’t know about Angel,” he said carefully. “But Wolfram and Hart is still evil, Buffy. I’m here with my team to take them down once and for all.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “No. It’s not true. Angel wouldn’t do anything evil. Neither would Wesley or any of the other people that worked for him.”
“I’m not saying he is. He may not know. Listen.” He dragged the chair in front of her and sat down, looking at her earnestly. “I told you about your Call hitting the psychics. Well, one of them was on my team. We didn’t know what was going on at the time, but Fields started spouting off in a language we’d never heard. We recorded it, but it took forever to translate, mostly because everyone we thought could do it ended up having died mysteriously within the previous month. Finally, I got in touch with a band of Romney, and one of their elders figured it out. She said it was some kind of Rom/demon mix with a little Sumerian thrown in.” He opened the briefcase and handed her a piece of paper. “Anyway, this is what it said.”
In pride and despair,
The Champion will harken to temptation.
His eyes shall be blinded
His heart misled,
He will join the darkness.
And the Three-Headed Beast will roam hidden but unchecked through many worlds.
Yet the Beast will sow the seeds of its own ending.
For it will bring forth the Shanshu
who will wake the Sleeper.
She will reach across the worlds, and the Beast will know destruction.
“I hate prophecies,” Buffy said, returning the paper. “I mean if they’re so…prophetic…why can’t they name names? Don’t they know what they’re talking about? And if they don’t, then how prophetic are they? What the heck is a 'shanshu' anyway?”
“It’s a little vague and title-heavy,” Riley agreed. “The elder said 'shanshu' and that's all she said. We couldn't run it down. I know it's not enough to base an operation on, but we’re hearing rumors from other dimensions. Activity has stepped up there, beings disappearing, governments or kingdoms being overthrown, and there’s lots of talk about Wolves, Rams, and Harts and combinations thereof.”
“I don’t know about that. This world is hard enough for me to keep up with.” She thought a moment. “If it’s all about Angel and his firm, then the Sleeper has to be Cordelia. She’s a friend of mine who worked for Angel, but you probably know that.” She missed the slightly odd look that crossed Riley’s face and said. “Something put her in a coma about three years ago. Willow was afraid to try anything because magic gets wonky if you use it on, you know, natural things. But if it’s Cordelia, why wouldn’t they just kill her?”
Riley shrugged. “They may not know about this prophecy, especially the ‘seeds of their own destruction’. It’s not written down anywhere. Or, they may be waiting until Angel’s looking the other way.”
“That could be. He put her in their care. He’d get suspicious if she died right after that. Either way,” she decided. “We need to get her out of there. They could figure this out at any time.”
“That’s our thinking.” Riley looked away. “Did you want to bring Angel in on this? You know him better. If you don’t think he’s been compromised, that’s good enough for me.”
While it would be easier if they didn’t want to talk to her because Angel was evil and Spike had come back wrong, she didn’t really believe it. Buffy knew what the evil versions of both men were like.
“No, I’m sure he hasn’t been compromised, but I don’t think he’s in the mood to listen to me. We didn’t exactly part well.” She forced back the tears that wanted to well up again. “I think it was one of those final partings.”
“I’m sorry,” Riley said politely.
“You are not,” she smiled.
“Ok, no I’m not sorry that you finally split up with your vampiric boyfriend. After all, only losers would take up with vampires. Of course, real losers let them chew on their arms.”
Buffy’s head whipped up and she was ready to be furious, when his last words penetrated and she relaxed. “Arm-sucking would need an extra big loser.”
“Absolutely.”
Speaking of vampiric boyfriends… “You probably know that Spike died in the attack. Did you know he was back?”
Riley jerked back, startled. “No, I didn’t know! How?”
“That would be the question before the court. He says he doesn’t know either and he’s had two years to figure it out. I found out yesterday, which see above, re final parting.”
“I am sorry that you’re unhappy,” Riley said gently. “That seems to happen to you a lot, and I seem to remember doing it once. I’m sorry about that too.”
Something warmed inside a little. “Thanks. So, enough with the past. How do we get Cordie out? Does your team have sneaky stuff we can use?”
Riley shook his head. “Not sneaky enough. The place is sewn up tight. We could blast in, but it’s very high risk. People, including Cordelia, could easily get killed which would defeat the purpose. We’d need to take down both the electrical system and the magical defenses, then get in and out as fast as possible.”
Buffy started grinning. Having something concrete to do was much better than sitting around being miserable. It had absolutely nothing to do with getting back at Angel and Spike. Nothing. At all. “Magic and electricity huh?” she said. “Could the electrical defenses be taken out by, say…computer?”
“Sure, if you could hack the system. We poked around a little but it’s tight too. Then there’s the magic. That’ll be tricky. We don’t really have anyone that handles that.”
“It’s so not a problem.” She grabbed the phone and dialed. “Willow?” she said when her friend picked up. “Get down here. Bring your laptop and the ax.”