Chapter Eight
Author's Notes: Special thanks to Oracle-BOP for the beta :P
Buffy Summers sat on her bed with Spike's body leaning back into hers. Her inner slayer was crooning as she lovingly stroked his hair. This is all wrong. She argued with herself. I hate this guy.
Think of what he willingly did for mom. a small voice answered her. Yeah, but is that a good enough reason to tie myself to him for eternity? She shook her head softly. It was done and despite herself she knew it was the right thing to do.
She ran her fingers down his nude body greedily. He was all hers and her inner slayer reveled in her possession of the powerful in vampire her arms. She felt her nipples pebble as he became hard for her.
Not for the first time she wondered how Dru could have willingly walk away from a bond like this, how Darla could have ran her childe from her? Did the bond grow lesser as time passed? How could Angel have survived all that time without his childer?
The only reason Buffy could come up with was that their bond was a lesser one. That hers and Spike's had been... preordained, maybe? Buffy had long since given into the fact that her life was fated, and all that she could hope for was to be rewarded in her next life, but what if she could get her reward in this life?
Spike's cock twitched in her hand as she felt his heart beat for the first time in more than a hundred years. As her fingers glided gently over his cock she felt his warm breath on her face. The purr that erupted from his chest sent a thrill straight to her clit.
"Hungry Spike?" Her voice came out a husky whisper.
His only answer was to turn over and kiss her deeply as he rammed his cock home.
Joy woke with a start in the pepto room of doom. It took her several seconds to realize that this was the real world and not some spell induced nightmare. The pink room was causing her to feel nauseous.
Like her parents Joy tended to sleep nude and after her long leisurely bath the night before she had not wanted to put back on her dirty clothes. Still half asleep she stumbled to the neon pink dresser and prayed that there were clothes of the non-pink variety somewhere with in within the drawers. If any pink underwear were in those drawers, then "Uncle" or not Spike was dead. What she found instead was a note from her Nana.
Joy,
Your Uncle Spike seemed embarrassed to buy you clothes. Though he seemed to think you have a thing for pink, I bought you some other colors as well.
Love
Grandmother,
Joyce
The teen-aged girl almost broke into tears of relief at her Nana's note. Not that it would save "Uncle" Spike. Nope she loved him, but he was going down.
While the drawer was full of truly beautiful bra and panty sets, Joy had a problem? The bras were all frilly, lacy little things with a front clasp and the panties were all thongs. They were all for entertainment purposes as her 'Aunt Faith' would have said. They weren't what she would normally wear Of course if her father or Uncle Spike found out she had them they would burst a blood vessel. On second thought she smirked evilly as she put them on.
Her closet was the size of a small room and had clothes that ran the gauntlet from cute to sexy to borderline "skank". She chose quickly a red tee shirt, a pair of black leather pants. She went back into the bedroom and put on her docs, spurs and Duster, now she was ready to party... Slayer style.
Her father was in the hall waiting for her.
Ben lay in his hospital bed drugged to gills, proud that being Glory's host gave him such remarkable healing abilities. 'What the hell had happened to her anyway? Who was strong enough to do this kind of damage to the hell god?'
At first he had been afraid that crazy Summers girl would come after him. Who knew anyone named Buffy could be so tough? Then he remembered that dark haired vampire that had been watching him as the medics worked. That crazy looking bitch gave him a case of the heebie jeebies.
However after hours of restlessness he had finally decided he was safe and since had been passing in and out as the numerous pain drugs started working. He was confident now that the spell of concealment would hold.
Now all he needed was a few more hours and he would be healed enough for the switch. Then as much as he hated it, Glory could go out and 'deal' with their problem.
There was a soothing touch of a cotton swab on the inside of his arm as the nurse on duty got him ready for his next shot.
"What am I getting this time?" He asked in a drug-laced voice.
His eyes shot open at the low laugh he got as an answer. "This time, little brimstone the pixies prescribe death."
Drusilla looked down into the shocked eyes of the intern as she quickly injected the drug into his bloodstream. She silently thanked the moon and stars that had led her to the cardio care unit and on hearing the doctor on duty's warning to the nurse. The doctor had cautioned "Be careful not to inject this to fast or you could..." Then Drusilla heard the sweet sound of Ben's heart bursting.
She fingered the pilfered blood bags in her purse with distaste. It was unnatural to feed so, but if she wanted to play in Sunshine's town she must obey the rules.
Of course Mrs. Edith said that naughty girls would go to the city of Angels and inform 'daddy' of the changes. She laughed evilly to herself that the hands of a healer had destroyed her daddy's world.
Meeting Of The Board of Elders of The Council of Watchers in Liverpool, England
Quentin Travers sat behind his desk staring over his steepled fingers at the other three voting members and the security team in the meeting room. He was unsure whether to be embarrassed or amazed at this latest turn of events. The Slayer, whom he and his old cohort Roger Wyndham Pryce had laughed at and named the fool, had not only out foxed him, but she had done it in a way with which he could not even argue.
She had seemingly unknowingly used his own oldest weapon against him. She had done the complete unexpected. He had known of the Prophecy of course. It was however thought of as more an old wives tale, but still he had known of it. He had known that Angelus would never be able to fulfill it, the very nature of his demon would not allow such a thing to occur.
More so Miss Summers had invoked the same bylaws that he himself had used the last few years, with Rogers help, to bulldoze his plans through Council. Until she had called for a Reconfirmation, he Quentin had, as Head of the Council, had one vote each for his two Slayers. He would have been able to cast his own third vote if the voting of the board had been a tie. Now however, both Buffy and Faith were in control of their own votes and he and Roger had better tread lightly.
What was worse or better according to your over all world view was that by claiming William the Bloody as Childe, and quite likely by now mate as well, Buffy Summers had invoked quite possibly the most convoluted, forking, branching prophecy in the entire history of the world. For the next ten to twenty years the Council would have no time for dissension or playing at politics. They would now have to swim together or sink separately, but in the end in his not uninformed opinion the world would be much better off. He just hoped he lived to see it. What was the old Chinese Curse? May you live in interesting times.
And oh how interesting it would be. He knew that neither Miss Summers nor Miss Lehane had any kind feelings for him or the Council. Bloody hell who was he kidding? The slayers hated the lot of them, but he Quentin wondered how the two girls would react upon learning, how the Watchers gained control of the Slayer line? How Sinyea had lived nearly four hundred years after being called and had borne the children of both her human and demon lovers? How the shadow men had stolen the children and enslaved them? How the females had been normal slaves until they reached child bearing years and then had been chained down and bred with the strongest warriors available, either human or demon? How the male descendants were trained to fight then sent out to hunt demons to protect the shadow men's people? How it had taken nearly a thousand years for the male descendants of Sinyea to find the courage to rise up and destroy their enslavers? It had been a simpler time then in a way. Those first few male rebels had called themselves simply 'Guides'.
The first Slayer to be called for the newly freed people had been well over fifty years old and despite the best training the Guides could give her, that Slayer had lived less than three months.
The second had only been fourteen when called, but her Guides were her father and brothers. In point of fact until less than three hundred years ago almost every Slayers Watcher or guide had been her father, her uncle or an older sibling. The second Slayer had lived in the bosom of her family for nearly thirty years after she was called and was one of the best in the history.
Quentin's smile further widened as he wondered what his two, possibly three slayers would think if they knew that most of the old legends of Amazons came from their on long ago Slayer ancestors?
What Quentin thought would be more interesting would be this august bodies reaction if the Board discovered what actually occurred a thousand years ago. What would each of them say if they found out that Slayers at one time were encouraged to take demons as both lovers and mates to strengthen the Slayer line? Quentin chuckled quietly at he thought at what dear Roger's would say if he knew the origin and actual rites involved in the ancient ceremony the two of them had pushed past the other two voting members of this Board. How originally the Cruciamentum had been given when the slayer reached her eighteenth birthday, She, the Slayer would be confronted by a demon, one that had been found worthy by her family. Then the demon and the Slayer were incapacitated, stripped nude, and thrown into a building with no escape. The structure was then enclosed in an anti-violence spell. Yes the Cruciamentum originally had been a bloody mating ceremony complete with fertility spells and even a wedding feast.
Quentin almost snorted out loud as he remembered that he had thought seriously of using the antiquated version once before he had even thought of using William the Bloody as her future mate. Of course he had largely thought of doing it to get rid of Anglus, but still.
He wondered idly how long the Council would have allowed him to live if young Buffy had left her test pregnant and mated? Of course it would have put that arrogant upstart Angelus in his place. Speaking of...
"James?" He spoke to the man to his right, one of only two non-voting people there. "Send a team to Los Angeles."
"Already done sir." Replied the head of the Council's special operations replied. "He signed his own death warrant when he marked her."
For once, every head nodded in agreement Quentin decided to open the meeting now.
"As for other business..." he began but was quickly cut off by Roger.
"As for other business we need to send a team to Sunnydale as well to handle our Slayer problem", ranted Roger. The man was livid.
"Excuse me?" Quentin queried knowing where Roger was going but needing to politically distance himself from his old crony. After all one either rolled with the times or one was crushed by them. "I wasn't aware that we had a slayer problem."
"This... this." Roger sputtered holding up the memo dealing with the upcoming ceremony in Sunnydale. "This superfluous reconfirmation ceremony is a farce, and I refuse to allow the Council to go through with it."
"I wasn't aware that you had a voice in these matters anymore Roger?" Came a low almost hushed voice, the cultured tone belying the man that spoke. His mother had been the Head of the Council of Watchers and his son was the current Slayer's watcher. In his early seventies the slouched, wrinkled, almost emaciated man looked anything but impressive, but those who knew him well understood that he was well and truly "Ripper's" father.
"As I understand the ritual, as soon as Miss Summers named Wesley for the Ceremony he and not you became the head of your House and therefore you, Roger no longer have the authority to even be at this meeting with out his permission in writing." Winston continued with unhidden glee. Then handed Quentin an open letter
"When I realized that this included myself as well I called my son and asked for a letter to stand as his proxy. However my son surprised me, by not only letting me stand proxy for him, but also by young Miss Summers asking if I would do the same for her as well." The smile he gave Quentin made the younger man feel like a rat, faced with an overly hungry not too pleasant cat.
Quentin couldn't stop the rueful chuckle that escaped his lips. He had been outmaneuvered once again, but this time by a General he knew very well to never underestimate. In one simple move Winston had not only retained his vote but also stolen one of Travers as well, and Travers was under no delusions that the man could not steal Faith's and now William's votes as well. Winston might not then be head of the Council in name, but with the three Slayers' voting block he might as well be. Quentin had to proceed with extreme caution.
"Admirable Winston, but not truly necessary." He replied after a moments thought. "I think we can agree on what needs to be done."
"Agreed," Winston replied.
As Roger began stuttering once more, Quentin motioned to James who proceeded to remove the former Board member from the room by bodily force.
At the out right snickering Quentin then turned towards the only two people in the room with whom he had yet to speak.
"You find this amusing Lord Henri?" Quentin asked the only member of this Board that he truly hated-twenty-one-year old Lord Henri Horace Kenticot. Lord Henri was the man who had dared to call for a vote of no confidence before the entire Watcher's Council. The boy had come within three votes of having Quentin retired from the Council. The damned child who had used his House's standing, his twin sisters' beauty and his own not to be dismissed charisma to steal a seat on the most prestigious governing Board in the Council. If Lord Winston was a hungry cat, then Lord Henri was a ravening wolf.
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