Chapter 9: Missing Toys

[Black Eye Guy]

A few days had passed since the the crushing defeat in Nepal. The gang returned to the monks, where they regrouped. After a day to get there things together they left for Scotland. Willow had been watching over Faith till they got her into a hospital where they had a contact and they didn't have to explain the situation. The Doctors said she would be fine, although she just needed time to recuperate.

Sam and Riley Finn had opted to Stay in Nepal and try and track down Dru and Indra, with both teams agreeing they wouldn't engage them if they where found.

After the group left the Hospital they made their way back to the Castle. Arriveing back in the middle of the Night, they woke Buffy and Giles, and the other that had gotten back from New York the day before. As well as Angel who had gotten back a few days before that.

The entire gang now assembled in Giles new library, books lined the walls with a big table in the center of the room, big arm chairs and sofas where scattered around that. The room smelled of books, and a Fire blazing in the huge Fireplace gave the room warmth and a homely feel.

The gang was spread over the chairs and Table. Most where dressed in Pajamas and you could still see the sleep in their eyes. They were tired but the events of Nepal had to be discussed now.

 

[palabravampiress]

:: Xander sat down next to Faith. ::

If he thought she’d have let him, he would have held her hand. Given her strength for the coming inquisition. But Faith was a stand-on-her-own type of girl, and Xander was starting to respect that.

Only starting, though. Still had miles to go.

For reasons that were beyond his understanding, he’d appointed himself Faith’s personal shadow. If there was one thing he admired, respected, and with which he was fully capable of empathizing, it was getting your butt well and truly kicked for the cause. He knew Buffy would be on the warpath about the scythe, but he thought she might be more MLK and less Malcolm X about it if a beloved and trusted friend was there to bear the brunt of it. Buffy had landed Faith in a coma once before. And yeah, she’d deserved it. But Xander had once brought a pyromaniac with an incendiary flare down on Sunnydale, and she’d barely so much as scolded him. Xander got away with stuff. He had Buffy points.

:: Xander pursed his lips. ::

Hmm. Wonder why that is.

:: He shrugged and looked at Buffy. Then, he looked away. ::

Better not look a gift horse in the mouth.

:: Instead, he looked around at Giles’ impressive new library. ::

Giles: “So, G-man, impressive collection you got here. Old and musty, just the way you like ‘em. Found any quality engravings?”

He had to hand it to Giles: his woodcuts were the best.

:: Xander yawned and pulled on the old bottle – Mountain Dew bottle, that is. ::

He’d barely had time to check out his new digs. The room was… Scottish. Even the carpet lint was Scottish. Tartan hung from drapes to tapestry and back again. The décor would do Robert the Bruce proud.

Some thoughtful soul – probably the Buffster, but maybe Giles, who was always great at remembering details – had put a picture of Anya on the nightstand next to his massive four-poster bed. The photo was from the Halloween in which he had dressed like a pirate (because, apparently, Fate had a sense of irony) and Anya had been one of those roller skating waitresses.



“Is it offputting for a successful businesswoman, such as myself, to dress like someone who only made it to subsistence level and vaguely demeaning employment?” Anya had asked worriedly before they’d headed to the shop.

She’d stepped out of the bedroom, spun around a time or two, and then clasped her hands in front of her as she waited for his judgment. In Anya-speak, it was the equivalent of asking “Do I look fat in this?”

Her ruby lips had curled into a concerned pout, and Xander had fallen in love – or maybe lust – all over again. He’d done that a lot with Anya. Every once in awhile, she would say something so unique, so true, so… Anya… that he’d realize how one-of-a-kind she was, and thank his lucky stars that she hadn’t yet figured out that she could have had any rich old widower or oil tycoon on the planet.

“I don’t want to offend any customers who happen to be waitresses,” she’d added.

Xander had grinned and reached out a hand. She reached back, and he yanked her toward him, not (much) caring that the roller skate wheels scratched the floor.

“Offensive stereotypes are a Halloween tradition. I promise,” he’d reassured her. “Besides… Daddy like. Short skirt. Roller skates. You’re all… poseable.”



*And let’s stop that train of thought like… five minutes ago.*

It was too late. He was already all... maudlin. He wished the thoughtful friend who had cozied up the room for him had been a little less thoughtful. It always hurt, knowing Anya was gone. But ever since that smoke demon, it had hurt more. Their enemies had used her against him, sure, but that didn’t mean that what they’d shown him wasn’t true. That didn’t mean she wasn’t suffering. That didn’t mean it wasn’t all his fault.

:: Xander sighed and shook his head until he returned to reality. ::

That took awhile, especially considering that the reality into which he snapped back was of the weird and wacky kind. Who snapped out of a daydream and into a castle? This particular castle consisted of a library that made the old Sunnydale High setup of the tweedy Giles days look… new. The carpentry wasn’t half bad, either. It was from a heavier era, sure, but the also from an era of superior craftsmanship. Love was carved into every massive, hulking headboard. It must have taken a mini-army of master carpenters to furnish this place. The bookshelves alone had taken at least two men each: one for the highly detailed carvings and another for the basic, well-balanced design.

:: Xander whistled. ::

Willow: “Will, have I told you lately that I love your taste in castles? Seriously. Do you have any idea how long it took to build each one of these bookshelves? You’re talking one month a piece, easy, and more trees than you can count.”

Sighing, Xander frowned and looked down at the table --- the beautiful, gleaming hardwood table that very nearly made him drool – and drummed his fingers gingerly on its surface.

Buffy: “Sorry. I know you wanna go all General Buffy on us. It’s just… I’m in Mr. Fix-It Heaven. I mean, these walls! Look at them. Just look at the masonry. That’s some quality wallmanship, right there. This place will withstand some major attacks. Save me always building and rebuilding everything, that’s for sure. Why didn’t we think of this back on Revello?”

 

[Kean]

Buffy glanced around Giles's new slice of watcher heaven. She had lost count of the amount of times she had actually heard him squeee in delight as he explored the labryinth of shelves. She would bet Mr. Gordo and Mr.Pointy that this was pretty much his ultimate 'Anywhere-But-Here'.

Pretty sweet when you think about it

They had spent days searching for anything tangible on Deirdre, and found stuff they did. However, it was all folklorey who-ha that really didn't tell much of anything except that she sings...which Buffy already knew. Nothing about the blue-blade and 'all being lost'!

Buffy became more and more dismayed with the whole thing. They just were getting nowhere...freakishly fast.

That was untill thre rest of the crew arrived at the new Fort Slayer..sans Scythe. Then Buffy jumped about five levels from dismayed to full throttle Panic Stations! She was edging ever closer to an all out panic attack. A band of dejected soldiers looked to her for guidance and she had none to give.

Kinda makes you appreciate cryptic ghost chicks getting their sing on

As her inner turmoil grew with every passing second she could not help but appreciate how ludacris this scene was. Here they were, on their last legs, the fallen army...having a slumber party! It was insane. She must be the only General in history to address her troops in big bouncy Tigger slippers. Very imposing indeed.

She was soon pulled out of her reverie by Xander.

“Sorry. I know you wanna go all General Buffy on us. It’s just… I’m in Mr. Fix-It Heaven. I mean, these walls! Look at them. Just look at the masonry. That’s some quality wallmanship, right there. This place will withstand some major attacks. Save me always building and rebuilding everything, that’s for sure. Why didn’t we think of this back on Revello?”

Buffy couldn't help but smile at her friend. She gave him a look that she knew he would understand as 'I missed you'...and she had?..did? miss him. It had been too long a seperation for the gang. Everyone was lagging. It was a feeling so strong it was palpable.

She knew that she would eventually have to break out her inner drill segerant but not now. The entire group was weary. Down to the bone. Right now she just needed to know what had gone down and figure out how the hell she would fix it. The loss of the Scythe was pretty much catastrophic on an epic proportions...too much to comprehend right now. It kinda made her brain hurt.

Her gaze kept drifting back to Faith. She looked, well, like s%^t. There was no other way of putting it. Buffy held her gaze for a beat, conveyed what they needed, letting the other know where they stood...Regret...Sorrow...Anger...Betrayal. As always it was a rocky ground. At least I can count on something never changing. Then with a silent nod their moment was over and Buffy stepped forward to get the groups' attention.

Everyone:' Ok I know you are all tired. I know you hurt and just pretty much want to die right now but I need someone to get splainy about what went down real quick'

 

[Born2Kill92]

Giles looked up at Xander when he spoke to him.

Xander: 'Yes to answer your question I have found some quality engravings and I do like them like that.'

Giles said with a slight smile.

Giles closed the book he was into and listened to Buffy speak. He was feeling the same way about this situation. But he was also a bit confused about it all. He was happy to see most of the scooby gang back and in one peice. But he was still confused about alot of stuff.

Everyone: 'Yes please do this is all starting to make my head hurt. So somone please speak.'

He said then smiled at Buffy.

 

[AngelRPG08]

::Angel stood broodingly the corner of the library watching the scoobies who took over the furniture in the room. Most were clad in colorful pajamas and some looked battered and bruised from fighting the mission in Nepal. Faith she looked bad from what he had heard she had almost died. Spike looked like hell but he didn't care. As much as it annoyed him to have Spike hanging around the LA office of Wolfram and Hart. It bugged him even more to find Spike had come to Europe to join Buffy and the scoobies. He couldn't help feeling jealous. He loved Buffy but because of the gypsy curse he couldn't be around her for risk of having that one moment of true happiness that would turn him into Angeleus. It hurt to know that Spike and Buffy had thing even if it was just physical. He knew Spike was in love with Buffy. Thinking of Buffy he couldn't help but smile at how cute Buffy looked getting down to business and addressing the group in pajamas and tigger slippers.::

 

[palabravampiress]

:: Xander caught Buffy's gaze and returned a little half-smile of his own. ::

He knew the Buffster was about to lay the verbal smackdown on the entire lot of them, but it was also nice to know she still cared. That was business. Didn't mean they couldn't settle down for a movie-and-popcorn fest once this whole thing was over.

Of course, by then, we'll probably be fighting multi-tentacled Hell Gods from the Planet of Flesh-Eating Slime.

Vampire vampire slayers were scary, sure, but they'd faced the first primordial evil before and won. They'd faced a God before and won. It seemed like the worst was behind them. Maybe they could work in some Slayage and a movie for a change.

Of course, that was from his perspective. Some of the team probably wouldn't be battling slime monsters or knocking back popcorn shots anytime soon. Accordingly, Xander looked at Spike -- utterly thrashed, not quite blackened anymore and yet still sort of medium-rare Spike.

:: He raised his eyebrows expectantly. ::

Spike may not have been battle ready, but he could still make with the 'splainy.

Not that Xander felt entirely comfortable asking.

So yeah, on the one hand, anyone who spent a couple of days down in Casa De Crazy with Cat Woman and Cheetah deserved a bit of down time. The girl who had handed Faith her ass was obviously their rogue slayer and obviously working with Drusilla. Granted, Xander hadn't actually seen Drusilla with his own eyeball, but the capture and torture of Spike was definitely her M.O. Cuz with the crazy. He definitely didn't envy Spike that experience. At least not this time. This type of attention from the fairer sex was definitely of the bad.

On the other hand, who cared? This was a guy who got his nickname by driving railroad spikes into people's heads and once viewed torture as an amorous sort of activity. Not to mention the whole tortured-by-a-God thing. Let's face it. The guy had put in some serious hours in the old torture chamber over the years. His pain and kink threshold had to be way up there, which meant that maybe spilling a little intel wouldn't be too much to ask of him at this critical intel-gathering juncture.

Spike: "Pick up any useful info while you were down there, Burn Boy, or were you too busy getting your butt kicked -- or, you know, crispified?"

Still, Xander felt bad for him.

:: Which doesn't mean I like him -- either of them, those stupid souled hunks of irritating man meat who seemed determined to just waltz into town any time they pleased and drive all the women bat sh*t, Xander thought, gazing darkly at Spike and then Angel. ::

He wished they could be more like Mast -- err, Dracula. Now he was cool. He kept everything all subtexty and bitey -- unlike certain vampires he knew, who had to come in all undead and broody and make with the stealing of the male lead status. His favorite fanged pen pal was also blessedly unlike certain other vampires, who did the same, but on video camera for all the world (even little Dawnie) to see. Master -- Dracula, I mean just rode motorbikes and kept menservants and had really cool hair.

But that was neither here nor there. The feeling bad for Spike thing sort of ground his gears, but it also did sort of cause Xander to ease up on his approach and add, almost apologetically:

Spike: "I mean... torture bad. I get it. Tough break. We're all really broken up about it. I'm just saying... it also makes for good recon. Like, who was the chick who turned Faith into a shish kebob and was she for sure working with Drusilla and -- oh yeah -- did they happen to mention the evil master plan between holy water showers and hot poker impalements?"

:: Xander frowned and looked back over at Faith. ::

Actually, feeling bad for the tortured and grievously injured members of his party was causing him to rethink a lot of things. Like his fitness to be of any use at all. To anyone. In any capacity greater than just guy-who-fixes-doors-and-windows.

He wished Anya were around. She'd always looked up to him. She'd always wanted to learn stuff from him -- about being human, mostly, but she also liked learning about Star Trek and comic books and board games and the construction business. She always made him feel like he was worthwhile and special -- and maybe even a little sexy. She laughed at his bad jokes and noticed when he got his hair cut and made him feel like a million bucks whenever he'd do something not really that important, like remembering to bring doughnuts by the shop or getting a raise at work or rebuilding every square inch of Buffy's house five times over. Best of all, she preferred his company -- his, not some stupid vampire's -- above everyone else's.

Which was why the Spike thing had hurt so much.

It was only as much as he'd hurt her, sure, but still. Rejection bit the big one.

:: Xander sighed and shook his head, reaching in front of him and desperately drowning down another can of soda. ::

He couldn't let his mind wander like this. He had to focus. Maybe if he focused on the problem at hand instead of wallowing in missing-Anya land, he could actually be of use to someone for a change.

 

[Mesektet Ra]

Spike was the last to enter the room - he hobbled a bit, his skin still tight. His face showed the last remnants of the beating he endured - the puncture wounds from the demon were almost completely healed, but his face was still a shadowy black and blue.

He flexed his hands as he sat, draping himself comfortably over one of the overstuffed armchairs in Rup's new office. Spike had woken up long enough since getting here to know they were in Scotland - couldn't find any sodding castles in London?, he thought, mildly irritated. They'd only just arrived and settled, and he'd yet to have to grand tour. Sounds like so much fun, he thought blandly.

He was glad for the break. The rest helped his body heal - his skin glowed the angry pink of raw, healed flesh, and his legs weren't fully cooperating, but he'd dealt with worse. 'Least I got all my limbs still attached, he thought, digging in the pocket of his duster for his lighter. He plucked a cigarette from behind his ear. He sniggered quietly at the thought. Small bloody favors, eh?

He hadn't spoken to anyone about Nepal since...since. He was in and out for a few days back in Nepal, and during some of his in periods, people came to ask him what happened - Xander, Dawn, the monks. As far as Spike was currently concerned, it was none of their sodding business. He wasn't ready to open up that can of shit just yet. That would involve digging deeper than he felt necessary.

He flicked his cigarette to life and inhaled deeply as Buffy spoke. Spike tried vainly to avert his gaze from her - she looked, well...so sweet, and strong. A warrior with the face of a child. Throughout the years, Spike had noticed that she never quite lost that unnameable quality that made her so young.

Instead, his eyes floated to his lap, then to Xander, who was staring at him expectantly. To Angel, who he flipped the bird to without any real reason. The ponce was glaring at him, brooding with this caveman brow, and it irritated him.

Xander started to speak. Spike didn't bother to look up, his eyes fixed firmly on the space between where his hand curled over the arm of the chair. He puffed noncommittally on his cigarette, the acrid smell singeing the air around his head.

"Pick up any useful info while you were down there, Burn Boy, or were you too busy getting your butt kicked -- or, you know, crispified?"

He puffed noncommittally on his cigarette, the acrid smell singeing the air around his head.

"I mean... torture bad. I get it. Tough break. We're all really broken up about it. I'm just saying... it also makes for good recon. Like, who was the chick who turned Faith into a shish kebob and was she for sure working with Drusilla and -- oh yeah -- did they happen to mention the evil master plan between holy water showers and hot poker impalements?"

He couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. Bollocks. I'm turning into Peaches, he hissed to himself. He adjusted himself slightly and looked up, his eyes - one of which was still slightly swollen - locking onto Xander's.

"Her name is Indra," he started. His voice was flat and emotionless. His eyes ticked to Faith, and immediately fell to the floor for a moment. Looking up again, he continued. "She's with Dru."

He inhaled on his cigarette. "Dunno what the bird's problem is," he said, as if every word he spoke was incredibly taxing. "But she seems to've gotten it in her head that Drusilla's...Kali. As in, the goddess Kali. She called Dru Kali to me...when she was using me as bloody leverage."

"Kali and I have an understanding." Spike closed his eyes for a moment, reaching a stiff hand up to rub at them. "She's devoted. Blindly. She thinks that shacking up with our lovely Dru is the sodding Good Thing." He inhaled again, and shook his head. "From what I got, Drusilla was after the scythe. She called Faith the 'one who bears the scythe' or some load of balls. Don't know what they wanted it for." He shrugged, his eyes flicking back to Xander. "Must've been too busy suffering from a bleeding head wound to pay attention."

Adjusting himself again, he let his eyes drift to Buffy as he continued. "Indra's...confused. She's starting to second-guess Dru." Spike scoffed, a half-grin curling the side of his mouth. "Loony bint's got herself a sprog, too. Doesn't exactly help matters."

He settled back, eying all of them in turn for a moment. "Is my turn with storytime quite finished?"

 

[Kean]

There hadn’t been too many times during her impressive career (Doublemeat Palace excluded) that Buffy Summers had been caught off guard. It’s kind of a requirement of her job that she DOESN’T get caught napping. Her ability to be on point, to always expect the unexpected, heck to wait for the unexpected to knock on her door and ask her out for coffee was undoubtedly one of the major reasons Buffy the Vampire Slayer still stood, 10 years on, as Commander and Chief of the good fight . Ok maybe there was a couple of times where she hadn't been so much with the living but that wasn't really the point. She was still here because she kept her wits about her, she adapted to her surroundings and was always prepared. For Anything.

Of course there were the few occasions when she had been caught off guard. Times when she had thrown caution to the wind...Her 17th Birthday sprang to mind...or when the world threw her a curve ball that she just didn't see coming...An image of her mother spread across their living room couch, cold and dead, filled her vision suddenly...and then their were times when she had been just plain old thrown out...that still left a dirty mark that she wasn't sure would ever be clean.

These things were like a mental checklist she kept to herself in a hope that it would somehow prevent her from being caught off guard again.

Despite her efforts, Buffy now had another moment of shocking clarity that jarred her senses and shook her foundations, to add to the list.

A Vampire vampire Slayer, a Rogue Psycho Slayer (who isn’t Faith) and Drussila thrown in for good measure, and this band of circus freaks now have the scythe…My Scythe…the same Scythe that is integral to the whole world not going all kabloohee…Now my head hurts and it all kinda makes me miss the First

Hey that rhymes!

She needed more info than what Spike had offered up, she had too many questions.

Who was Indra? What were her weaknesses (if any)…he said she was confused…could they exploit that?

What had they spoken about…anything that they could grasp as a lead.

And also, who the hell was Kali!...the Goddess of Psycho Loonies!!!

Which is actually very probable…

"Is my turn with storytime quite finished?"

Spike’s final words pulled her back to planet mayhem and for the first time in months she looked at him…really looked at him and it almost took her breath away…and not in the Rhett Butlery Gone With the Wind kinda way…more in the Oh My God what a happened to you kinda way.

She hadn't seen much of him since he had returned to Nepal. She had been slightly taken aback when he hobbled into the library, but not really surprised. The guys had said he was pretty badly beaten, that he had taken a mauling from the Merry Band of Nutcases. She knew all too well how his lips swelled with blood and purpled, like a brutal, chilling kiss tattooed on his mouth. She could still remember the sound his bones made when they snapped. The grainy crunch that turns her stomach even now. Oh Buffy knew how Spike's body would look after it had been abused because it was not to long ago she had been the abuser. Both as the Slayer and as his Lover Buffy had hurt Spike. If she was ever in doubt, the fiery sensation of flames wrapped around their enclosed hands had forever burned it into her. She could still feel the dry, papery crackle of his skin under her palm when she closed her eyes.

It was his eyes though that gave Buffy cause for concern. They were vacant. Just empty wells of crystal blue. No fire, no passion, no Spike.

It terrified her.

If she hadn’t been sure earlier, she was now. She needed to speak with him on his own. She needed to get inside his head and understand what had been so bad that it made him lose…his Spikeness? His Spike-osity?...man I suck with words

A slight cough in the far corner of the room caught her attention. She looked over and found herself knee deep in an Angel gaze…Mmm Annngel

Where the hell had that come from?

This was just great, one second she was sloughing through some serious serious Spike issues and the next she’s swooning for Angel. She had been in total denial about how confusing it would be having the two of them around. Told herself they were all JUST friends. That they could work together and save the world and she wouldn’t go home and have dreams about playing Nurse Buffy to two infirmed, devastatingly handsome, ensouled vampires…albeit with questionable hairstyle choices.

You’ll never be friends…

Damn Vampires!

She inwardly shook off her funk and tried to get back into the Save-The-World-From-Unspeakable-Demons Zone but she couldn’t help but feel cheated that Angel hadn’t worn his pj’s to their little slumber party…especially since she knew he liked to wear his birthday suit!

Okaaay! And we’re back…please check all naughty thoughts at the door, and please enjoy your flight on Apocalypse Airlines

Buffy purposefully forbid herself from looking at Angel or Spike for the rest of her entire life and instead turned to the rest of the group.

“ Ok so psycho loony tunes have the scythe and no doubt are plotting our demise as we speak. Does anybody else having anything to add to what Spike said? Is there anything else we need to know?”

 

[Born2Kill92]

Buffy: 'Uhh yes I do, We don't have the resources to go in and take down a complete phsycho slayer. She could kill yo and faith alone with that sythe in her hands. We need to do more reseach ont his Indra before we march in going to get our heads cut off don't you think. So now I ask you Buffy are we ready to go in and get the sythe back. I for one don't think we are. I also feel that we should let our wounded rest. So lets just sit here and make a damn good plan so we don't go in and come out with dead instead of wounded. So why should we worry with this now. Buffy you and I both know you deserve a rest. Along with everyone else in this library right now. Lets take a couple of days in the castel and relax and try to regain the slayer strenght we are going to need to take the sythe back! Okay?'

Giles asked with pure sympathy for buffy in his voice. He was worried about this new Evil slayer. Of Phsycho slayer the others had brought to his attention. They were deffinately not ready for another evil slayer. Faith was hard enough when she was bad but now another.

Giles was really worried about Buffy now. He didn't want her to over work as the slayer.It could drive her insane if everyday all she does is slay. And now that she wants to give Dawn a normal life she can't do that with all the slaying going on. He also didn't want her to burn out and end up killing herself before she could get the sythe back. Yes they had lots of young slayers with them but none of them had the expirenence Buffy had. They needed to rest and then pick up. Giles stood and looked at the rest of the group. He saw the exhaustion in their faces and in their eyes. He turned back to Buffy.

Buffy: 'Buffy I know how much you want to go take this sythe back. But we can't right now. So let's all get back to normal lives for the next couple of ays and take care of the wounded. This can also allow us the time to come up with a plane. So please everyone go to bed.'

Giles said turning to Buffy. he was worrie dwhat she was going to think of him taking authority. But it needed to be done before Buffy and the others ran out to be killed off.

 

[Lyri]

::Gwen curled herself up into the chair she was currently occupying and tried to supress the yawn that was trying desperatly to escape.

::She knew that her little adventure hadn't exactly turned into the major opertation she knew they'd all been expecting, but her power boost to kill that alst demon had all but sucked the strength from her. After stepping off the plane, Gwen had retreated immediatly to her room and fell asleep almost as soon as she'd hit the bed.

::Well, that was until she'd been called to this meeting, as was, apparently, everyone with some decree of importance.

::So now she sat, in black shorts and a white T-Shirt she suspected might actually be Connor's, and listened while everyone recounted everything that had happened to them during their pown specific missions.

::Gwen felt extremely out of place.

I have no stories to tell. No psycho Slayers attacked us, no crazy vampires tried to kidnap anyone. Apart from Amy's lack of sense of direction, every part of our plan went...well, it went to plan.

:😛art of her wanted to just get up and leave the room, to go find something productive to do, like...well, anything besides sitting here and feeling ignored.::

No one knows me, no one wants to ask me my opinion, because they don't know if they'll actually want it. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just stayed in LA.


::Gwen squashed down her feelings as listened as Buffy asked them if anyone else had anything to add, and Giles told them all to go to bed.::

I was already there, buddy, 'til you guys dragged me here. Really, I'm happy to go back if you want.

::But she stayed where she was, hoping desperatly that someone, anyone, would remember that she was actually in the room.::

 

[Born2Kill92]

Giles lowered himself back into his seat seeing the fury and tension rising in buffy's face. He looked around and then spotted the girl named Gwen. She looked like just a child. Then he thought to himself.

Why not get opinons from others. Maybe that would persway Buffy in his direction.

He took a deep breath and looked at Gwen hoping to make eye contact. He opened his mouth.

Gwen: 'Excuse me your Gwen I presume. I am Mister Giles but you can call me Giles. If you don't mind me getting your opinion on this matter. Well what is your Opinion on this matter? You are just as much apart of this team and family now so why don't you tell us what you think so that way everyone can have a turn at their sharing of feelings.'

Giles smiled his relife and calming smile at the young girl. He hoped that he made her feel as much at home and not excluded. He wanted her to become apart of this group because of the powers she possesed. She could be a majoir asset to the team now.

 

[palabravampiress]

:: Xander followed Giles' eyes from Buffy to Gwen. ::

Electra-Woman powers aside, she looked... cowed. Like someone just up and shocked all the spunkiness right out of her. She was crackling with positive, can-do energy. Xander could tell by the way she sort of shrunk back, curling up all small and vulnerable looking on her chair, but still paid uber attention to the Scooby meeting. Her eyes bounced eagerly (and nervously) from speaker to speaker. She even opened her mouth to speak every once in awhile, but then shrunk back again. It like she desperately wanted to belong, but she was afraid to speak up.

Xander remembered that feeling. He'd pretty much put it to bed the first time he'd saved the world, but before that, he'd felt all expendable. Good old Xander. Brings the doughnuts guy. Turns into a hyena guy. Gets dumped guy. Otherwise, runs and hides. Until that day, he never thought he had much to offer team slayer.

Giles: "Right on, Watcher man. Let's give Girl Lightning over there a chance to shine."

:: Xander brought his hand -- the one attached to his un-injured shoulder -- up to his still-bandaged head. ::

Gwen: "Was your mission as craptastic as ours was? Cuz I gotta say, Nepal is nothing like the travel brochures."

:: He smiled reassuringly at Gwen and ticked off a list on his fingers: ::

Gwen: "You got little girl yetis breaking in, evil monks running around --"

:: He paused and jerked a thumb in Spike's direction. ::

Group: "Not to mention Evil Dead's Ex and her new slayer dolly."

:: He eyed Spike for a second, and then turned what Anya used to call his "flirt face" onto Captain Peroxide's latest lady. ::

He'd seen sparks there before the mission -- not literal, Gwen-induced sparks, but metaphor sparks. Xander had no real interest in Gwen, not with Anya dreams keeping him all hopped up on caffeine 24-7, anyway. It was just... maybe a little harmless guy stuff would help draw the Blonde Wonder out of his waking catatonia. As much as Xander hated to admit it, they'd need Spike if they were ever going to take down Dru.

Besides, the guy boinked my fiancé. That gets me a free pass on all future insinuations of the ungentlemanly variety.

He was soo never gonna let Spike go on that. Nu-uh. no way. No how. Not ever. There was too much heckling to be done.

Gwen: "Anyway... please tell us your mission went better than ours. And that maybe this mysterious thing you were sent to New York to, erm, collect in a totally legal manner of which I see no evil hear no evil and know no evil will maybe give us an edge on Ansara and her band of Bedlam babes?"

:: He raised his good arm in a wide, sweeping motion to indicate the Nepal contingent. ::

Gwen: "Besides, your story's gotta be better than ours, what with your conspicuous lack of concussion. Very daring fashion choice, by the way, passing on the first aid chic. Gutsy and all one with the criminal element. I like it."

 

[Lyri]

::Gwen sighed. Why was Giles speaking to her like he'd never met her? She'd never really had an all out conversation with the man, but they'd met...hadn't they?::

You're loosing it, Gwen babe. Can't remeber who you've met or who you haven't. Apparently, this whole world save-age really plays havok on your memory.

::She opened her mouth to answer Giles' question, but before she could, Xander spoke up, with what she hoped was a coffee-high. He babbled on insesantly, and it was only after the first few senetences that Gwen realized Xander was including her. He wasn't just asking what happened because they needed to know, he was asking because he genuinly wanted to hear what she had to say.

::She looked at Xander's injuries, notcied that almost evryone else had some sort of bodily-damage, whereas her gang had come out pretty much unscathed. Score one for her team? Or was everyone gonna hold it against them?::

:: He paused and jerked a thumb in Spike's direction. ::

Group: "Not to mention Evil Dead's Ex and her new slayer dolly."

::Gwen followed Xander's gaze and looked at Spike, then flicked her gaze to Buffy. She knew it was illogic of her to think that Spike only had one ex-girlfriend, but how crappy would it be to have both show up at once? And one, apparently, on the wrong side?::

Focus on what's going on right now, Gwen, not on Spike's current crisiss.

::She smiled at Xander as his babble finally came to an end.::

Xander: "We had a pretty easy time, actually. Got what we went for, didn't get caught...or at least, we didn't get held by the demons who caught us. We just killed 'em. If it hadn't been for Amy's lack of sense of direction, we probably wouldn't have run into any trouble at all."

::Gwen shrugged.::

Xander: I don't even know what that thing was for. I don't how it'll help with Ansara. Unless we're gona put her ashes in it?"

::She thought about the little brown urn, the entire point of her mission. Was it some sort of holding thing for Ansara? And how, if at all, was Ansara connected to this new player?

::Gwen blushed and looked down at her hands.::

Xander: "On the whole, we had a pretty borning mission. Nothing as exciting as people's exes showing up, or Slayers - Gone - Bad, or anything like that. Apart from a very energy sucking move I pulled, which will not be happening again for a while, I really don't have anything to repot."

Group: "Sorry."

 

[Kean]

Shame filled Buffy as Giles spoke, but not for the reasons you would think. Most would say it was understandable to feel guilty about how utterly, diabolochally, exponentially wrong the groups respective missions had gone. Afterall she was the one responsible for all of these lives. It was she that had sent them out nearly to their deaths. But it wasn't this that made her stomach turn in knots.

No, it was the relief that seeped into her very bones when Giles insisted that they, that she rest, that caused her to feel such guilt. She was supposed to be the one in charge, the one with the answers. Instead she hadn't felt so lost since...ok technically last week...but that wasn't the point. She had told Giles a long time ago that she could handle it, that he had taught her all she needed to know and now here she was a year and a half later clinging to him again as if she had just risen from the grave......uh..again.

She wanted to be able to answer these questions, she wanted to be the one to save the day and yet at the same time she wanted to be saved herself.

Pathetic Much?

She felt totally out of touch. Everything was so different and yet so hopelessly the same. How naive was she to think that what they had done with the Scythe would change everything, or anything for that matter. She was surrounded by slayers, by warriors and still she was THE Slayer. She was still the The Chosen One.

She rememered looking into the Sunnydale shaped hole in the ground she had created and thinking...Finally! She could be normal. She could shop and laugh and rollerblade and cook Dawn dinner and not worry about the world being in peril every second becuase it wasn't just on her anymore. She could finally live!

God, she was such a fool.

She really really was a fool becuase she was still stuck, rooted to this spot. Alone. Giles looked like he was readying himself for the wrath of hurricane Buffy.

He thinks I'm angry because he took charge...how shocked would he be to know the truth.

She noticed it with everyone though. They were all on edge waiting for her to explode. She hated that. Hated that she was so cut off, that she still only knew a handful of the new slayer's names. Hated that she had to ask the same questions in every meeting.

What happened...

How many injured...

Who's fault...

How do I fix it...

It was never, How are you? What do you think? What's your name.

If she closed her eyes she might as well have been in Sunnydale. Nothing had changed.

A girl across the room caught Buffy's eye for a moment. She was trying to think of her name. She wanted to say Gwen but Buffy really wasn't sure...no surprise there. She knew she had been part of Angel's crew...kinda...I think?

She looked like Buffy felt...lost. She had curled in on herself, a barrier from all the attention people were not paying her. Buffy saw something in her eyes light up when Giles and then Xander spoke to her. As soon as it was there it was gone again and she was back to hugging herself into a protective ball.

Gwen relayed the details of her mission and Buffy couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips.

Xander: "On the whole, we had a pretty borning mission. Nothing as exciting as people's exes showing up, or Slayers - Gone - Bad, or anything like that. Apart from a very energy sucking move I pulled, which will not be happening again for a while, I really don't have anything to repot."

Group: "Sorry"

At least someone got it right

Buffy looked up and smiled at Gwen as warmly as she could manage.

Gwen: ' No don't be sorry Gwen. That's the best news we've had since... well maybe since Snyder got eaten!'

Xander:'What dya think Xand?'

Buffy turned back to Gwen

Gwen:' Really, great job. Some people dislike boring...personally I love it. Stay boring! Really I hear it's making a comeback! Boring is in this spring Kids.'

Buffy hoped Gwen realised that she was trying. Ok she was fairly sure she missed trying and hit weird along the way but it was something.

Right now, it was all she could do.

 

[Lyri]

::Gwen smiled at Buffy, loving the fact that the leader of this little operation...okay, let's face it, MY leader...was making an effort to make her feel better.::

Buffy: "God, what I wouldn't give to have a boring, normal life. If that was your idea of boring, I'm not going to like your idea of exciting, am I?"

::She laughed as she joked with the Slayer, then grew sober as she saw the look in Buffy's eyes.::

She looks so much older than she is. She's not much younger than me, but she looks like she's been around forever. Seen it all, and done it twice.

::Gwen looked around the room, at the sea of faces belonging to people she was starting to think of a friends. No one looked happy. Apart from Xander, who she was starting to suspect used humor as a way of not dealing with things, everyone looked like they'd just be told they had cancer of the puppy.

::Gwen grew worried, her sleepines vanishing.::

Buffy: "What happened on the other missions...it was bad, wasn't it? You're all joking and trying to ignore it, but things just got a whole lot worse, didn't they?"

 

[Mesektet Ra]

Spike errantly watched the chatter go on from person to person through the haze of his cigarette. His eyes had blanked out long ago, his entire being disconnected from the proceedings. He smoked languidly.

He did not want to be here. He did not want to be having this conversation, especially with the magnificent poof and Boy Wonder tagging along for the ride. Xander had been there - he'd seen everything. Well...most of it. Not that the wanker was around for what mattered. Like when Spike was getting the hell tortured out of him. Again. Christ, does that ever get old.

Giles spoke to Gwen, and his eyes flashed over to her briefly. He hadn't looked at her either, now that he thought about it for more than five seconds. He snorted a little to himself. Wonder why that is. Digging a bit deeper than he felt like at the present moment, he realized that he didn't want Gwen to see him this way. All broken down and brooding like Peaches. He'd much rather fish around the kitchen and find a bottle of Jack to wash his sorrows away with.

She'd been huddled away from the group, almost trying not to be seen. When Giles spoke, she unfurled a little. Good for her. Get 'er out of 'er shell for a mo'. She needed the companionship, the feeling as if she belonged somewhere. Spike wished her could be there for her right now, but...

Xander spoke, and something flashed in his eyes. Spike tried not to laugh. Christ, he's hitting on her. Brilliant! Spike didn't know Gwen all that well, but he knew her well enough - Sparrow wasn't her type.

Or...or maybe he was telling himself that just to get over the idiotic pang of jealousy he felt. He glared daggers in the back of Xander's skull for a moment - not long enough for anyone to notice, thank the gods. Last thing he needed was everything the hell else he felt to be ripped from his head like Drusilla and her sodding mind-meld.

Buffy spoke, and Spike's eyes automatically fixed on her. She looked so sad, drawn and thin. Never gets better for her. He wanted to sigh, but restrained it. The Buffy he met upon coming here had shifted into this girl, the lone leader once again. Whatever weight she carried had finally brought her down.

There was silence in the room for a moment. No one wanted to answer Gwen's question. Spike shifted noisily, his duster squeaking against the leather chair. "It did, love," he said simply, meeting Gwen's gaze for the first time in a long, long time. "Dru's loony Slayer got the scythe...and Christ knows what the bint wants to do with it."

 

[palabravampiress]

Xander had expected one of the Buffster's patented beat downs, but the one who really looked beaten down was her.

As usual, though, his hero knew how to deal. She switched gears, went into improve-morale mode, and joined him on the welcome the newbie Scoobies train.

Buffy looked up and smiled at Gwen as warmly as she could manage.

Gwen: ' No don't be sorry Gwen. That's the best news we've had since... well maybe since Snyder got eaten!'

Xander:'What dya think Xand?'

:: Xander laughed. ::

Snyder?

He hadn't thought of that weasley little man since, well"¦ since he'd been eaten.

Buffy: "I dunno. I kinda liked that guy "“ in an annoying authority figure kinda way, of course. Anya had this theory that he was a goblin"¦ or maybe a dwarf. She knew a few back in the old country. You know: pointy ears, pointy teeth, chronically anti-social."

:: Xander paused and tilted his head, remembering. ::

Buffy: "Except during the whole enchanted band candy thing! Remember how he kept wanting to tag along with us like we were the cool kids or something? And Giles here went all Ripper and "“ "

:: Xander shut his mouth and blanched. ::

Happy, funny memories turned into Joyce memories, which were decidedly of the non-cheery.

Too soon.

Buffy: "And did nothing improper or non-tweedy at all. Stayed in the library with his books. No funny business whatsoever"¦ and I am soo shutting up in 3, 2, 1 now."

:: Xander looked around the room apologetically. ::

They'd been doing so well, too, all Justice League at the end of a story arc. Gwen had started to grasp the seriousness of the scythe-less situation and even Spike had come out of Angel-mode for long enough to back her up.

Group: "And while I may be a mood wrecking moron, I am also a useful mood-wrecking moron. Observe:"

:: He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and paper-football-flicked it over to Buffy. ::

Group: " I got this from Faith when we thought she"¦ well, I just did. Nevermind when. When she couldn't give it to me."

:: He looked at Faith. ::

Faith: "Sorry for the privacy invasionage, there. Just doing my watcher-in-trainingly duties."

Faith nodded weakly and told him they were "five by five."

:: This, he took as encouragement, so he turned back to Buffy. ::

Group: "It's a note, containing the names "˜Indra' and "˜Chand.' Also says "˜Palace' and "˜Durbar Square.'"

:: Obviously pleased with himself, Xander leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He did his darndest to wipe the grin from his face while he was at it, but it was a no-go. ::

Group: "Since I've been working the caffeine and pain med enhanced no-sleep mojo of the concussed, I Googled our latest little bad. Found out a couple of things: first, she's got more money than God. Literally. Glory really wasn't rocking the Forbes list, as I recall. Second, she's got a husband and a baby, so that coincides with Spike's she's-got-a-kid-theory. Thirdly "“ and bestly "“ she's missing. The husband's offering a ginormous cash reward for whoever finds her. Seems to think she got kidnapped by the Maoists. Apparently, there's some big anti-monarchy revolution going on in Nepal these days "“ I blame the evil monks."

:: Xander grinned at Buffy. ::

Buffy: "So cheer up, Buff. We got a lead. I figure a big spender like our girl's likely to leave a paper trail. Should get us a general region, at least. Then, maybe Will can magic us up a locator spell. Find the slayer, find the scythe, right?"

:: Suddenly self conscious, Xander slumped in his chair and studied the table's wood grain. ::

Group: "I mean"¦ if you want. Or I could shut up and hammer something."

He felt like he was stepping on about a million toes, at least ten of them belonging to Giles, by working out plans and making deductions like some kind of Sherlock Holmes wannabe. It was just, well"¦ if he knew something, he had to speak up, right?

 

[Lyri]

::Gwen tried to follow Xander's babble fest about paper trails and evil monks, but she didn't know if it was the huge amount of coffee Xander had obviously drank, her own lack of huge amount of sleep, or both, but she just wasn't getting any of it.

::She leaned forward in her chair, her elbows on her knees and tried to let everything sink in.::

Group: "Okay, let me get this straight. There's this Scythe-thingie, and it's like, some sort of Slayer charged super-weapon, right? Drusilla's back in the game, and apparently playing for the other side again, this time with a cute little side-kick, who, if I'm not mistaken, is actually one of those Scythe-created Slayers, and it's playing with a full deck herself. And now, Insanity Fair's cover girls have the Scythe, and are planning to do what with it? I mean, I know you guys used it's power to activate all the little baby Slayers, but I mean, does it still have all that power? Or was it, like, used up?"

::Gwen sighed, yet again, and ran her fingers through her hair.::

Group: "I know I'm sounding like exposition girl, but I'm kinda feeling out of the loop here."

::Gwen's eyes flicked from Xander, to Buffy, to Giles, to Spike, then finally back to Buffy.::

Buffy: "What can they do with this Scythe now they have it and what's it gonna cost us?"

 

[Kean]

"What can they do with this Scythe now they have it and what's it gonna cost us?"

Buffy held Gwen's gaze for a long minute. She could see steal in that girls eyes. She had had it hard. Buffy could tell because she saw the same look in her own eyes everytime she worked up eough courage to look at herself in the mirror. That had become less and less frequent as the years had gone on. She didn't recognise the person staring back at her and didn't have the luxury of time to dwell on it. It just was the way things were. Simple as that.

Gwen eventually looked away and Buffy was thankful for that. She 'smiled' grimly and told Gwen the truth.

Gwen:' Honestly? I don't know. It could be everyperson you see before you or it could be a garden gnome for all we know. Considering our track record I'm gona go with choice number 3 which basically is...alot. The scythe was used to activate all the Potentials. That was some major major mojo, even for us. The scythe has power that we haven't even began to tap. It's now in the hands with three of the fruitiest nut jobs on the planet who recently kicked our asses until they were nice new shapes. So my guess is...think of the absolute worst scenario and multiply it by ten.'

Buffy saw how the entire room winced at her words, but she couldn't lie to them just so they could sleep at night. They needed to know what they were in for. She made the mistake of holding back with the First. She couldn't, no, wouldn't do that again. If they were in this fight, they would know the odds.

Remembering what Xander had said to her Buffy turned to him.

Xander: ' Thanks Xand, a lead, any lead is something. We'll get on it first thing.'

Group: ' Ok I can see you are all lagging so lets just call it a night' she looked at her watch and saw it was 2 am...'...or a morning as the case may be. Unless we have some sort of emergency consider yourselves off the clock for the next couple of days. Rest up. We have a long road ahead of us.'

She sighed as she watched her band of weary soldiers shuffle their way out of the room. She could feel the tension building up within her and decided she needed some fresh air. Suddenly the castle felt claustrophobic somehow.

After a quick glance around to make sure everyone had left Buffy the Vampire Slayer stepped out into the cool Scottish night.

 

[palabravampiress]

:: On his way out of the bathroom – all freshly bandaged and girly shampoo fresh – Xander bumped right into Lady Lightning Rod. ::

Gwen: “Sorry.”

:: Worried – too late, but still worried – that he spilled some coffee on her, he stifled a yelp and stepped back. He looked down from Gwen’s very attractively attired self (even her PJs were silky and sexy, as per her unique, can’t-touch-me charm) to the mug of triple shot espresso that was still safely in his hand. ::

But he was still exiting the bathroom, which was not exactly of the good-impression-making goodness. Even worse, he’d been taking his caffeine extra black, lately – black and thick, all gross and sludge-like. Vaguely like something he’d seen in his latest sewer stroll…

Oh God!

:: Panicked, he looked up at Gwen, then back to the bathroom, then back at Gwen. ::

Gwen: “English Patient!”

English Patient?

He’d croaked out the first words that came to mind and, unfortunately, that was it.

:: Then, aware that his response made zero sense, (and that’s just if you don’t count negative numbers) he gazed bashfully at his feet and explained without looking back up: ::

Gwen: “Just thought of a new nickname for Spike. ‘Cuz, you know. We spend so much time fixing him.”

:: Xander’s eye darkened – an expressive thing that worked way better when he’d had two eyes, but now that he was down to one, really just looked sort of weird – as the barest shadow of a thought ping-ponged its way through his brain. ::

Which we wouldn’t have to do if he didn’t spend so much time getting tortured for us.

Xander had taken his fair share of licks. Especially, you know, the giant honking hunk of optically important organ that was currently (and forever) missing from his skull. But his sacrifice was… hollow. And apparently rife with the quippy punnage. He’d never forget his “it’s a little to my left” line. Xander gave. And gave and gave and kept on giving. He didn’t really expect a whole lot back, either. Once upon a time ago, he’d hoped for some slayer lovin,’ but those days and even that longing seemed about at distant and unimportant as his grade on his last geometry exam. Now, he just did it because he was a Scooby and they were family and that’s what Scoobies did. But he’d never really given, not freely and without resentment. The unfettered use of nifty pirate accessories notwithstanding, he resented the loss of his eye. He resented the loss of Anya a million times more. That resentment was very much unlike a certain leather-clad vampire (whom he also resented) who took every bit of abuse the Buffster, the Scooby gang, and the latest Big Bad could pound into him and still kept coming back for more. His devotion was unwavering. His wounds and losses didn’t fester into caffeine-junkie-creating resentments.

Which, of course, begged the question: why did he still goad Spike? Was it jealousy? Insecurity? That casual insult thing that guys did when they were… (gulp) friends?

:: Xander shrugged. ::

Gwen: “It’s a guy thing.”

He’d just let it rest at that. Anything else would lead to him admitting a grudging respect for the guy who was so often tortured in service to their shared cause, which would surely be a sign of impending apocalypse, and it wasn’t the apocalypse time of year yet.

:: Xander shot Gwen a quick, self-depreciating smirk before he brought the too-hot coffee to his lips and gulped down a good third of the good stuff. ::

Gwen: “And yes, I do just go around thinking of quippy insults a la Mr. Collins. Gotta joke on your toes in the Scooby gang. And also, yes, I read a book. Well, that’s a lie; actually, I saw the mini-series. All six hours. Anya made me.”

:: Xander rolled his eye at his tendency to babble. It was increased of late, due to his more recent tendency to drink uppers instead of depressants of the alcoholic variety. ::

:: He looked at her sheepishly and stuck his free hand into his pocket – or would have, had his pants had pockets. Being pajama pants, they were lacking, so he just let his hand hang awkward and idle. ::

Mentally, he kicked himself for being babbley and rude. Then, he turned the monologue into a dialogue – one that actually required some input from the walking power supply they’d picked up from Angel’s crew.

Gwen: “So… umm, Gwen… it’s pretty late. Human lightning rods got a thing against sleepy time? Is it the static electricity? I imagine you get bed head to really write home about.”

:: Xander frowned and tried again. ::

Gwen: “By which I really mean: Hi Gwen, you valuable team member, you. Nice to finally talk to you one-on-one. Wanna go to the kitchen with me for a well-past-midnight snack? Maybe you can regale me with stories of the stealthy life.”

:: Xander clamped his lips closed and left the ball firmly in her court. ::

He was trying to be friendly, but it was turning out… weird. He figured that was a sure sign that sleep was needed and stat, but he put a lid on that impulse, too, and drove it down even deeper than his various resentments and insecurities. Instead, he just vowed to let new Girl do the talking while he did the listening. He would not speak until spoken too, he resolved, except to offer an encouraging “mm hm” or “I see” as necessary. Or maybe a quip. He was determined.