Chapter 32 –
Glasgow, 22 July 2004
I had only been joking when I suggested finding something to
do with Morag at the Fyarls’ lair. I just said that to make it easier for Buffy
to do what she so obviously wanted to do – get out and about and do some Slaying.
It’s just too much of a coincidence to believe that now. There’s not much in
this world that could make mincemeat of this many Fyarls. Ok, so Buffy and I
were planning to do it, well, maybe without the actual mincemeat, but this goes
beyond mere killing. Looking at what we found, I’d reckon that they were
actually pulled apart, and I'm struggling to work out exactly what could get
close enough to a Fyarl to do that.
I was able to find a couple of torches not too far inside
the cave, and I lit one to let us search more thoroughly. The place is a mess -
I mean, Fyarls aren’t exactly known for their housekeeping, but judging by the
fact that there're body parts and other bits and pieces lying randomly about
the cave, I'd have to assume that the place was ransacked in addition to the
massacre. We continue through the debris, neither of us feeling the need to
speak, until we finally reach the other exit. This one leads, as I was told,
directly to the loch, just a few feet below. It’s close to the exit that I hear
the tell-tale sound of broken glass beneath my feet. I bend down and pick up
the largest shard I can find, bringing it cautiously to my nose. The smell’s
overpowering, but familiar. Buffy reaches over to take a sniff, and wrinkles
her nose at the result.
“Smells like … nail polish remover. Since when did Fyarls
bother about a good manicure?”
“That’s exactly what it is, but it’s not just for
fingernails. Some demons drink the stuff. They prefer some other ketones, but
acetone’ll give them a pretty big high. Looks like they were throwing a party.”
And it does. The ground between the cave exit and the
water’s edge is a small, pebbly beach, and the amount of glass close to the
surface, and the way it’s sharp and still clear, tells me it’s recent. It looks
like there’s been an attempt to sweep it outside the cave. I pick up several
bits of glass from all over, and it all smells the same.
“Something else there too,” I comment when I get back to the
cave.
“Wasn’t sure at first because the acetone’s pretty overpowering,
but I think there was something else in those bottles. I’ll see what Giles’
contacts make of it when we get back.”
Buffy nods. “What could do this, Spike?”
“To a living Fyarl? Not much. Reckon I could, if the Fyarls
were unconscious, though. That’s why I want this glass checked out. If my guess
is right, that’s what happened.”
“So, they were, what? Drugged? Then pulled apart? Why? There
must be easier ways to kill them.”
“Well, the drugging would definitely make it easier, but the
actual method of killing could be a warning to others not to get involved, I
suppose.”
“You think it’s the Senior Partners?”
“Seems a bit of a coincidence for it to be anyone else,
doesn’t it?”
“I suppose. So, is this meant as a message for us or for
someone else?”
“Good question. Though, unless those Bloxars are involved
somehow, I don’t know how we could be linked to this.”
We drive back to Glasgow
in comparative silence, but it’s clear that Buffy’s on edge. She’s hardly able
to sit still, and I’m on the verge of barking at her more than once as we
drive. Of course, the main reason I’m finding her twitchiness irritating is
that I’m not exactly feeling that calm myself. Once in the city, I decide not
to head back to Moira’s, but instead drive south of the river to an area that
has often provided me with some much-needed violence. Buffy seems to understand
that without me spelling it out, too. We came on this trip with the aim of
working off all the time we’ve been spending sitting around, and instead we’ve
found a slaughter. We both badly need some way of letting off steam, and, since
I haven’t been in this particular area for a few weeks, we aren’t disappointed.
In addition to sundry nasties, we also come across a small nest of vampires. It
takes us an hour and a half, but by the end of it, I’m feeling a lot better and
if I judge by the glow on her cheeks and the smile on her face, I’d hazard that
Buffy is too. Course, it’s not just that. She always did find a good fight …
invigorating ... and she’s sending definite signals that she’s ready for a
different kind of work out. Oh, I don’t mean she’s doing anything that would be
obvious to a human, ‘cos she isn’t. It’s just that my senses are a bit more
finely tuned than any human’s.
Arriving back at Moira’s is difficult. Spending the evening
in her company, especially that last bit, aware of the signals her scent and
heartbeat are sending out ... She opens Moira’s door, then turns to face me.
She seems to be expecting something, so I kiss her. This kiss is a little more
than friendly, it’s more of a re-acquaintance and it takes every bit of resolve
I have to pull away before things get out of hand. Letting physical attraction
get the better of us is what caused half the problems last time. This time, I’m
actually daring to hope that we might have a chance to get it right, but at the
same time I’m bloody terrified that I’m going to do something to kill that
chance dead.
It takes a long time before I get any sleep after that.
Every detail of the way she moved while she fought, every sound she made is
etched on my memory. It’s well after sunrise before I finally win that battle
and find some peace.
The peace, of course, isn’t long-lived, since all too soon,
Dawn’s let herself into the flat and I can hear her crashing about in the
kitchen. I haul myself out of bed and pull on the pair of jeans I discarded
last night, then grab the first t-shirt I find and go to see what she’s up to.
The sound of the microwave announcing that it’s finished
greets me as I reach the doorway, and I see her open the door and pull out a
mug filled with blood. She turns quickly, then stops short when she sees me.
“Don’t creep up on me like that! Hasn’t anyone ever told you
to get a bell round your neck? If I’ve spilled any of this on my top, then
that’s the last time I decide to do you breakfast in bed.”
She looks down at her clothes, but they seem clean to me.
“Well, last time I checked, this was my flat, so I’d say I’m
allowed to creep up on people if I want to.” I hold out my hand for the mug
which she hands over with an indignant sound that only teenagers are capable of
making.
“To what do I owe the room service?” I ask before taking a
mouthful.
“Well? What happened?”
“What happened when?”
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Last night.
You and Buffy. What happened?”
“We went out, we found that someone had beaten us to the
Fyarls so we went and found some vamps. We slayed and we came back here.”
“That’s almost exactly what Buffy said!”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m not interested in the slayage. I want to
know what else happened. You were out for hours, and a lot of it was daylight.
You weren’t dusting vamps all that time.”
“No, we took the scenic roads around a few lochs and took in
the view.”
“And?”
“Dawn, …”
“I know. I need to mind my own business, but sometimes I
feel like I just need to scream. You love her, and I know she loves you. Even
Moira thinks you should get together, and that’s like having your grandmother
approving, so it’s got to be good. Why can’t you just … Or did you?”
“Like you said, Bit. Not your business. Buffy and me? We
don’t know what we really want yet. Just her finding out I’m still walking and
talking, and me finding she doesn’t want to stake me … it’s all pretty new. And
anyway, if you want to know, why don’t you ask her?”
“Like she’d tell me anything important.”
“But you did ask.”
“Yeah, and she didn’t even mention the scenic route. But she
did tell me to get out of the room and let her sleep.”
“So you thought you’d come in here and wake me.”
“Not right away! It’s … hours since I left her.”
I glance at the clock on the cooker, then look back.
“Hours? Since when do you get up that early?”
“Well, an hour anyway,” she admits.
I raise an eyebrow and hold her gaze.
“Well, maybe half an hour.”
“A whole half hour, eh? That’s what I call patience.”
She has the grace to look a little embarrassed at that, so I
soften it with a smile. Then I finish processing everything she’s just told me.
“You said Moira wanted us to get together?”
She gives me that ‘Are you stupid?’ look and fixes me with
that wide-eyed expression she has.
“Yeah, I get that she set Buffy up to come here, but that
doesn’t mean she’d want the Slayer mixed up with another vampire, now does it?”
“Moira wants to see you both happy. She didn’t really know Buffy
when she invited her over, so it started with wanting to make you happy, I
guess, but … She knows things - about people. A bit like Tara
did, but better.”
“That she does, Bit. Never said otherwise, but I reckon her
wanting Buffy over here had more to do with me coming clean rather than her
wanting to do some matchmaking.”
The sigh that follows that is one that is only possible when
Dawn feels that she’s the only person around with any sense – something that
happens a good deal more often than any reasonable person would believe. She
flounces off upstairs at that, leaving me trying desperately not to hope too
much.
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