An
Unaccomplished Fate
Author: enigmaticblue
Rating: PG-15
Disclaimer: I don’t own most of these characters, and I’m not making any money off of the ones that are mine.
Summary: The sequel to Avocation and Under the Sun. Spike and Buffy’s relationship is on solid ground at last, but a new prophecy threatens everything they hold dear. The bonds of family and friendship will be tested, lives will be threatened, and the entire world will hang on the choice of one vampire.
A/N: Any resemblance to canon is pretty
much
accidental.
Chapter 27
“Let the world’s sharpness,
like a clasping knife,/Shut in upon itself and do no harm/In this close
hand of
Love, now soft and warm,/And let us hear no sound of human strife/After
the
click of the shutting. Life to life—/I lean upon thee, Dear, without
alarm,/And feel as safe as guarded by a charm/Against the stab of
worldlings,
who if rife/Are weak to injure…” ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “Sonnet
24”
Spike had never been one for
to-do lists. He tended to keep
information in his head; Wesley was the one who made extensive plans
and
checklists. It was one of the reasons they made such good partners.
But if Spike had been one for
making lists, at the top would
be dealing with the fallout from Wesley’s recent trip to squeeze
information
out of his father. They literally had enemies coming at them from all
sides,
and he needed Wesley to be at the top of his game. That meant there was
no time
for tenderness.
“Hey, Red.” Spike tucked the
phone between his shoulder and
his ear. “You heard from Wes today?”
“He’s not answering his
phone,” Willow replied glumly. “I
thought about going over there, but I don’t know. Maybe he needs time.”
Spike snorted. “I’d let him
wallow all he wants, but we
don’t have time for him to mope around.”
There was a moment of silence.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get him drunk,
and then I’m going to kick his
ass if needed.”
“Do you need help?”
Spike smiled. “I may need you
for the clean up.”
“Just let me know when.”
“You got it.”
Spike had thought that she
needed fair warning, since he had
no idea what sort of a fight Wesley was going to put up.
He had a key to the
ex-Watcher’s place, not that he needed
it. When Spike arrived, he let himself in without bothering to knock,
and he
immediately smelled the alcohol. It looked like he didn’t need to get
Wesley
drunk for this.
“What are you doing here,
Spike?”
“I came to talk some sense
into you.”
“I’m fine.”
Wesley was anything but fine,
as Spike had no trouble
seeing. The man was leaning against the doorjamb in his kitchen, eyes
red and
skin pale. He looked sick and tired, and Spike wouldn’t have been
surprised to
find out that Wesley hadn’t slept in the last three days.
“Pour me a drink,” Spike
ordered, knowing that he had been
Wesley’s employer long enough that he would most likely do as he was
asked.
Wesley glared at him. “Spike—”
“You can pour me a drink, and
we’ll have a nice, civilized
discussion, or I can knock you out, tie you up, and you can listen to
me talk.”
“Sod off.”
“You first.”
Spike kept his eyes fixed on
Wesley’s until the other man
looked away and filled a glass with whiskey without a word. “No
bourbon?”
“I ran out.”
That would explain a lot,
Spike thought, taking in his
rumpled appearance and haggard demeanor. Much worse, he thought, was
the sense
of futility and failure that hung in the room. Spike had seen Wesley
like this
before, when he had been fired from the Council, but there was a darker
undercurrent now.
“Your father never beat you,”
Spike began, telling Wesley
the story of his own life.
“Shut up.”
“Your father never touched you
at all, and you got the sense
that touching you was beneath him, whether it was in anger or praise.”
Wesley
kept his silence, his jaw clenching tightly, knuckles white as he
gripped the
glass in his hand. “Instead he used his words, and somehow that was
worse,
because you might have been able to believe that he was wrong for
hurting you.”
“Shut. Up.”
“The first time he locked you
in the closet, you pounded on
the door, and no one let you out. There wasn’t any light, and you could
hear
the rats in the walls. When he finally opened the door, he could see
you’d been
crying, and that meant another 6 hours in the darkness. He said that
you were
soft.”
Spike barely had time to duck
the glass Wesley threw. The
man had a wicked aim, and while Spike was distracted by the missile,
Wesley
grabbed his jacket, slamming him into the wall. The fist split his lip,
but
Spike made no move to defend himself. He was still wearing the ring,
and he
could take whatever punishment Wesley needed to dish out.
Spike could see the raw need
in the other man’s eyes, the
desire to take his pain out on someone or something else, and Spike
knew he was
the safest bet. Wesley slammed him up against the wall again. “How do
you know
all of that?”
“You told me.”
The fight seemed to drain out
of Wesley, and his hands
dropped to his sides. “I don’t remember.”
“You were three sheets to the
wind at the time, and I didn’t
see the need to bring it up again.” Spike shrugged. “And some of it I
picked up
over the last couple of years.” When Wesley didn’t reply, Spike asked,
“What
about this was a surprise, Wes? That your father is a bastard? That he
doesn’t
love you? That he’s not proud of you? That all he ever wanted was a son
he
could use to further his own position with the Council?”
Spike saw the questions fall
like blows, and he was sorry
for it, but in this case he thought it best not to sugarcoat the truth.
“No, it
wasn’t a surprise,” Wesley finally admitted in a low voice.
“Good, because you’re smarter
than that, and you’re better
than that.” Now Spike seized him by the shoulders, reversing their
positions,
pushing Wesley against the wall, although not so hard that it would
hurt. “I’m
going to say this once, and once only. I have never,
in a century and a half, had a partner. I’ve never had a
friend.”
Spike stepped back. “And I do
now. That should mean
something.”
He could see Wesley’s Adam’s
apple bob as he swallowed hard,
hear the harsh breath he took in. “It means a lot.”
And when the other man looked
up, Spike saw raw fire in his
eyes. “I want to take them down,” Wesley said.
Spike smiled. “Then we will.”
~~~~~
Quinn couldn’t help the grin
that spread across her face
when she spotted Tara across the quad. She had chosen to continue
taking
classes; it made sense to keep her cover in place at least for Travers.
And she was beginning to enjoy
taking classes in subjects
she didn’t have much experience with, if only because it gave her
something to
do, and gave her a reason to see Tara on a regular basis.
“Hey!”
Tara turned when she heard
Quinn call out, and her answering
smile warmed Quinn to no end. “Quinn. It’s been too long.”
“It has been.” If Quinn were
more certain of their
relationship, she would have kissed Tara right there in the quad, in
front of
God and everybody, but she had no idea how the other woman felt about
such
public displays. “It’s good to see you.”
They stood there, staring at
one another, until Tara let out
a little laugh and leaned in for a brief, chaste kiss on Quinn’s lips.
“Do you
have time for a coffee?”
Quinn thought about her next
class and shrugged, deciding
that she could blow it off. “Absolutely.”
They spoke of inconsequential
things at first, as though
testing the waters. “How was England?” Quinn finally asked.
She saw Tara’s hesitation, and
the other woman finally
replied, “I loved it, and we—we got the answers we wanted.”
“Did something happen?”
“What do you know about Roger
Wyndam-Pryce?”
Quinn thought the question was
a little odd, but she gave
the question serious consideration. “He’s a company man through and
through,
and he’s a bit of a hardass. Why?”
“Wesley and his father—”
“Ah.” Quinn grimaced. “I could
see that. I got the feeling
that Roger had already disowned him.”
“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t
able to get a few shots in.”
Quinn’s sympathy intensified.
She had some idea of how lucky
she was with her own family—parents who offered unconditional love and
support, a sister who might be a pest but with whom she got along.
“Will he be alright?”
“I think so. Spike’s going to
try to get through to him, and
if he can’t, I’m not sure anyone can.”
“Is there anything I should
know about?” Quinn inquired.
“The Council is sending their
finest.”
Quinn took a deep breath,
knowing what was coming next.
“Travers hasn’t told me.”
“What does that mean?” Tara
asked.
“I don’t know, but nothing
good.”
~~~~~
Giles paced back and forth
across Spike’s living room, Tommy
strapped to his chest. Although he was supposed to be helping the
others
research, the baby was having none of it, and Giles had promised Joyce
an
evening off.
After all, she was generally
the one to get up with him in
the middle of the night.
“What have we found?”
“Nothing concrete,” Spike
admitted. “There are a few
mentions of weapons that might be powerful enough to kill a Hellgod,
but most
of those are assumed to be mythological.”
Giles didn’t like the sound of
that. They had enemies
bearing down on all sides, and very little notion of what to do.
“There are mentions in the
prophecy about the Guardian’s
flaming sword,” Wesley offered. “Perhaps that will help.”
“That only helps if we find
the sword,” Buffy objected. “No
offense, Wes, but flaming swords don’t just fall from the sky.”
Wes shifted uncomfortably. “I
realize it’s not much help,
but—”
“It’s more than we had
before,” Spike interrupted. “So, we
find a flaming sword, and I use it to kill Glory. It’s a start.”
“We have a plan to get Mom,
Thomas, and Dawn out of town if
necessary,” Buffy said.
“Where is Dawn?” Willow asked.
“Studying at a friend’s
house,” Buffy replied. “We’ll pick
her up on the way home before patrolling.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Quinn asked.
Spike shook his head. “Keep up
the pretense with Travers as
long as you can. It may be that he already knows or suspects, so keep a
sharp
watch out. We stick together as much as we can until this is over.”
“Do you think that they’ll
come after us? The Council
goons?” Willow asked.
“Unlikely,” Quinn interjected.
“If they come after anyone,
it’s going to be Buffy, Spike, and me, maybe Wesley.”
“Great,” Willow muttered. “And
what about Glory and the
Knights?”
“No contact.” Spike’s grim
expression made it clear that he
was serious. “You see Glory or the Knights, you run the other way. Same
for the
Council goons if you see them.”
“Spike.” Giles cleared his
throat tentatively. “Perhaps we
need another plan.”
“What sort of plan?”
“There are three groups of
people who know you have the Key.
Perhaps you could plant information that would indicate that it’s
someone
else.”
“You’re talking bait,” Buffy
said flatly. “Who would
volunteer for that?”
“I would,” Quinn offered, “but
no one would believe it.”
“They might believe it if it’s
me,” Tara said quietly.
There was an explosion of
sound as everyone began talking at
once, but Giles regarded Tara dispassionately, thinking about the
possibility.
It wasn’t a perfect solution; the Council and the Knights would likely
believe
that it was Tommy first. He was, after all, brand new.
Then again, he was a perfectly
normal infant, who had been
conceived and born in a perfectly normal way. Tara hadn’t been in
Sunnydale so
long that her being the Key was out of the realm of possibility, and
her demon
blood made her just a little bit magical.
If they could convince
everyone she was magical…
“There is no sense arguing
over it now,” Giles said,
interrupting the discussion. “We certainly can’t make a move until we
have a
way to kill Glory. Until then, the best we can do is to go about our
lives.”
The furor subsided, and an
uneasy silence reigned. Giles
smiled. It appeared that he still had his Watcher mojo, as Buffy might
say.
And it felt good. Parenting
was such new territory for him
that it felt good to be on familiar ground.
His hand curled protectively
around Tommy’s back. Giles just
hoped that it was a long time before this life touched his son.
~~~~~
Tara stayed back after the
meeting. Although she’d returned
to Sunnydale a few days before, and had been wildly curious as to what
Buffy
and Spike had discovered from Robert, there had simply been no time to
deal
with it.
This semester looked to be a
busy one for her, and for the
others who were going to college, so she’d wanted some time to
decompress, and
she’d relished all of the time spent with Quinn.
“What did Robert have to say?”
she asked after everyone else
had left. Tara didn’t necessarily want any secrets, but she did want a
chance
to digest the news, whether good or bad.
Buffy and Spike looked at each
other, communicating
silently. “He thinks you might be related,” Spike said without preamble.
Tara blinked, and the light
dawned. “That’s why you thought
I should meet him.” She let out a nervous laugh. “I thought you might
be trying
to set me up!”
“I thought about it,” Spike
admitted candidly. “He’s a good
man. But I knew you didn’t swing that way, and I thought that if my
instincts
were correct, you might end up dating your half-brother.”
Tara felt as though her breath
had been stolen from her
lungs. “Is he—is he sure?”
“He’s certain you’re from the
same clan,” Buffy inserted,
shooting a glare at Spike. “And not much else. Robert thought he might
be able
to get confirmation, though, if you want it.”
If she wanted it? Part of Tara
desperately wanted to know
for certain, and if the demon had known her mother—perhaps had cared
for
her—she wanted to know about that part of her mother that had remained
hidden for so many years.
And if the news was bad? If
her mother hadn’t been
willing—
As though sensing where her
thoughts were going, Spike
reached out and put a gentle hand on her wrist. “I know Robert’s
people, Tara.
There are bad eggs in the bunch, sure, but they’re a good sort—just a
bit
footloose, is all.”
“If someone knew my mother,”
Tara began. She drew in a deep
breath. “I want to know.”
“I’ll let Robert know,” Spike
assured her.
Buffy cleared her throat.
“Robert also said that he’d help
you however you need.”
Tara thought about it. “Do you
think he’d know how to make
me look like a magical Key?”
“Tara—”
She cut Buffy off. “It’s worth
looking into. It makes sense
to have more than one plan.”
“We’ll consider it.” Spike’s
words weren’t much of a
promise. Tara could hear in his voice that he was none too thrilled
with the
idea, but she thought that it might provide the best alternative.
Tara didn’t mind being bait,
not when she knew who was
backing her up.
~~~~~
“Are you going to the Sadie
Hawkins dance?” Lisa asked.
Dawn had been dreading the
question, knowing that it was
going to come up eventually during their study session. After all, the
dance
was mere weeks away. “Probably not,” she hedged. “There isn’t anyone
I’d want
to ask.”
Ally was quick to commiserate.
“No kidding. Most of the boys
in our grade are losers.”
Lisa appeared torn. “Kyle is
nice.” She glanced at Dawn. “I
think he likes you.”
Dawn could feel herself flush
a bit. While the idea that
there was a boy who liked her gave Dawn a small thrill, she knew there
was no
way she could handle a relationship right now. She wasn’t even sure
what she was. “I doubt it.”
The ringing of the doorbell
saved her from having to say
more. “That’s my sister. I’d better go.”
“Maybe we could do something,
just the three of us, that
night,” Ally suggested. “The dance is probably going to be lame.”
“That would be fun.” Dawn
escaped then. As much as she
appreciated having friends—and she did—it made things more
difficult in a way. There were explanations to give, secrets to keep,
and
information to avoid sharing.
Dawn slid into the backseat of
Spike’s Mustang with
practiced ease, putting her book bag on the floor between her feet.
“Hey.”
“How was studying?” Buffy
asked, twisting in her seat. “Did
you get a lot done?”
“Yeah.” Dawn knew she should
probably say more, put their
worries to rest, but she couldn’t find the words. “It was fun.”
“Something worrying you, Bit?”
She sighed. Sometimes she
wished that Spike couldn’t read
people so well, and Dawn shared a sympathetic look with Buffy, knowing
that her
sister often felt the same way. “No, not really.”
Something occurred to her.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Of course,” Spike said,
negotiating a corner without
trouble. “What’s up?”
“If I died, wouldn’t that make
things easier? I mean, Glory
wouldn’t be able to use me to end the world, right?” Dawn could feel
the
silence; it was almost a tangible thing, and she hastened to add, “I’m
not
going to kill myself.”
“Good.” Buffy gave her the
evil eye. “Because if you tried,
I’d have to kick your ass.”
Dawn felt a surge of warmth;
that was something a real big
sister would say. “I was just curious.”
“We don’t know, Dawn,” Spike
said, sounding infinitely
tired. “But I would wager that it would make things worse, not better.
The
monks chose to hide the Key from Glory, so it would make sense that if
you were
in another form, she’d still try and get to you.”
“What if she does?”
“That’s not going to happen,”
Buffy said firmly.
“You don’t know that,” Dawn
objected.