3. Who Watches The Watchers
"It's disrespectful, that's what it is."
Xander let out a heavy sigh, digging further into his bag of chips. "Kennedy -- not that I haven't enjoyed your little backseat monologue, or the angry flecks of spittle that landed in my hair while you gave it, but could you maybe shut it for five minutes?"
"All I'm saying is... if they're still keeping something this huge from her, what are they keeping from us?"
"You guys," Willow sighed, squeezing Kennedy's hand, "It is taking all my concentration to keep us off the radar..."
"And this isn't exactly cruising through the park," Robin muttered, swerving hard to the left to avoid a car that had actually used the breakdown lane to break down, rather than drive at 150 miles an hour past the rest of the traffic.
"Look, Kennedy, until this morning, the Council thought Angel had gone to the other side. Spike could have been a deliberate trap for her... or maybe not even Spike at all, a shapeshifting demon..."
"Oh, no," Kennedy spat right back. "Let's not tell anyone that Spike's back, 'cause he might be a shapeshifting demon! But oh, it's perfectly okay if she sleeps with a known one!"
"Buffy's love life is her own business," Xander said primly.
"Oh, can I get you saying that on tape?" Robin chuckled.
"Hey, until this morning, it looked like I was batting a thousand on my boyfriend disapprovals."
"It's not this morning anymore," Kennedy crossed her arms. "He died for us. Y'know, I might have liked to have known he was back. Could have bought him a cup of coffee or something."
Robin scowled. "Don't think they make O-positive lattes."
"Actually, they do, there's this little place in Santa Monica..."
"Willow, concentrate!"
"Look, you guys, there's something you're not thinking about," Robin swerved again. "This can't be the real Spike, or at least not the Spike we knew. Better... worse... who knows... but not the same."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because, Xander, are you seriously telling me that the Spike we all know and you guys love..."
"Hey, don't put me in there!"
"Fine. The Spike you and I both have the good sense to hate magically comes back from the dead. And not only does he have his shiny-shiny BuffyBait soul, but he just sacrificed himself to save the world. You're telling me he wouldn't be using that lever to get into a certain pair of leather pants?"
"Who knows how long the time was where he went when he died? Maybe he got over her."
"Angel spent a years in a hell she sent him to and didn't."
"Well, Spike's no Angel."
Robin banged the steering wheel. "Truer words, never spoken."
"He saved our lives!" Kennedy bellowed. "He saved the world! And none of us even sent a 'Hi, Spike, how's the new existence, how's work at the evil corporation' postcard! For all we know, he could have been pulled back against his will, used, abused, tortured..."
"I'd say if there was any torture, Spike was probably on the giving end," Robin said grimly.
"Fine. Spike's an ass. Whoo-ooo. Doesn't it bother anyone but me that we're less in the loop than Andrew?"
"He's being trained to be a Watcher..."
Kennedy rolled her eyes. "What's the point of having eyes to 'watch' if they're not communicating with the rest of the body? All this cloak-and-dagger secret meeting mumbo-jumbo bullshit... we're supposed to be on the same side! Instead, we're getting shuffled all over the planet on these wild goose-chase missions... anyone think that's coincidence?"
"The Watchers are scrambling around, trying to deal with locating untold numbers of newly-activated Slayers... there's bound to be chaos..."
"They're splitting us up!"
"We're back together now, aren't we?"
"Without Buffy! Why in the hell are we going into this thing without Buffy?"
"You guys are ruining this road trip for me," Xander pouted, tipping the bag back to pour chip dust on his tongue.
"Road Trip?" Robin sputtered. "Xander, we're careening at suicidal speeds down the L.A. freeways to go battle a demon horde in aide of a bunch of other undead we think are still good!"
"Yeah, well," Xander sighed, "I don't get out much."