The Book of Days: Washington
by WordThief
THE BOOK OF DAYS

‘Neither innocence nor vigilance may be protection against the howling heart of evil’
Mulder, ‘The Calusari’

Part Seven: Washington

###

Buffy wrapped her arms around the passenger seat and watched her mother sleep the sleep of the emotionally exhausted - a sleep without rest or refreshment but one of fleeting dreams and frequent waking. Buffy herself was tired, a night of sleepless, helpless terror in Pittsburgh coping with Giles’s news and Joyce’s subsequent panic attack had left her fatigued and on edge. The words of the now familiar ritual of revocation cycled maddeningly around in her head - Willow’s voice, Angel’s face, Mulder’s voice, Joyce’s face - like a bubblegum Spice Girls song until she thought she would simply open the car door, undo her seat belt, and jump.

.......hicce verbis consensus rescissus est.....hicce verbis consensus rescissus est.......

‘Are you okay?’

Buffy turned herself around in the seat until she was staring out the windscreen. Folding her arms, she answered Mulder’s question with one of her own.

‘Why did you become an F.B.I. agent? Don’t give me the crap about wanting to make a difference or help people either. Why did you really?’ Her voice was harsh and her tone unfriendly, but she knew Mulder wouldn’t mind. He understood, he was almost as tired as she was.

She was surprised to hear him chuckle as he negotiated a lane change to an off-ramp. ‘Don’t ask Scully that question. You might not get the answer you’re looking for.’ He considered a minute. ‘I was headhunted straight out of Oxford. Initially I took up the offer because they’d give me the resources I needed to look for my sister. Nothing more or less selfish or humanitarian than that. It has changed, though.’

‘In what way?’

‘Mainly because I’ve found a lot more - we’ve found a lot more - than I ever envisioned. Because of things that have happened - to me, to Scully, to our families. We’ve gotten to a point where even if we did turn back, quit, we could never have lives away from this because of what we know. Scully realises that better than me. She keeps me honest. Why I joined is very different from why I stay.’

‘At least you had a choice.’ Buffy tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘I didn’t. I had the choice made for me. But I’m starting to think to myself now, sometimes - what would I be if I wasn’t the Slayer? And I don’t like the answer to that. So, I don’t know which one of us has it worse.’

‘Maybe we’ve both got it good.’

She gave him a sideways glance. ‘Do you ever get really scared? I mean really, really scared. The sort of scared where you can’t breathe, you can’t do anything.’

Mulder nodded, thinking of nights alone in his apartment while Scully lay in hospital, the beep and hiss of machines and the fog of lost memory. ‘Sometimes. People that don’t get scared are either stupid or fooling themselves. Sometimes fear is the only good response to a situation.’

She sighed. ‘I know. But, sometimes it’s wrong - like now. My dreams are scaring me worse than anything, and I can’t fight it, I just have to keep running.’

‘The running will be over soon. We’ll be at Scully’s apartment in about twenty minutes.’

‘No, no. I don’t think this running’s going to stop. Not until...’ she shut her mouth quickly. Mulder looked at her curiously, but she never finished the statement.

###

‘Just here. This one.’ Willow pointed towards a house shadowed from the streetlight by a large maple tree. They pulled in and took a good look at the house. It was dark and slightly forbidding and the teen turned to Scully with a half smile. ‘See why I don’t want to stay here by myself? It was alright when Buffy was here, she patrolled past sometimes, and sneaked out to stay with me when her Mom was really tired. I know they - the vampires - can’t come in, but it still gives me a wiggins.’

‘Well, we’re only going to be here for a few minutes. And I have my gun.’ Scully patted her holster. ‘It may not kill them but it would give them something to think about.’ Pulling her cross to the outside of her clothing, she opened the door and slid out of the car. Together they walked slowly and warily across the front lawn to the entrance. Willow had her key ready, and the two women slipped inside.

‘Don’t turn on any lights. I can find it in the dark.’ Willow skirted an antique table in the hallway and started up the stairs, Scully following right behind her. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t bring this book over to Giles’s in the daytime. I knew I’d probably need it.’

‘Must have slipped your mind. You’ve been working hard.’

‘Hmm..maybe not hard enough. We’ve still got a whole lot to do.’ Willow turned into her bedroom and felt her way to her desk, rummaging in a box underneath. ‘The condition - the thing that says Angel isn’t allowed to be happy, it really doesn’t want to come out of there. The gypsies really hated him...aha!’ She held up an old book that Scully could barely see in the dark. ‘Which isn’t really fair, because it was the demon-thing in Angel that did all the killing, not his soul.’

Scully sat down on the edge of the bed as Willow retrieved a bag from her closet and packed the book, along with some other things, into it. ‘Xander doesn’t really understand that either. Or..maybe he does. Sometimes I get really mad at him, but I know he’s just trying to protect Buffy.’

‘It doesn’t seem to me that Buffy needs much protection.’

Willow zipped up the bag and swung it over her shoulder. ‘She does now.’ she said grimly.

###

After five nights in Washington, Buffy was beginning to get restless. The feeling added to her fear, building a sort of claustrophobia that only receded slightly during the light and heat of the day. At night came the full spectrum of terror. She slept little, but when she did manage to drop off, her sleep was filled with dreams of her boy-child and his father, of Willow and Xander and Giles with knives held to their necks then vampiric ridges rising on their foreheads. She dreamed of her mother, staggering out of a tunnel with a little girl in her arms, a little girl who looked just like her. Then Xander, bleeding from a head wound, lying eyes closed on rocky ground while a dark-haired child gripped his shirt tightly and screamed. Every time, the scream would wake her, and she would surface, sweating and shuddering in the warm darkness of the Georgetown night.

She couldn’t explain the dread and fear she felt, because at the same time, she knew she was completely safe. Scully’s apartment was demon-proof, and she had not sensed a vampire - Angelus or otherwise - since their arrival in the capital. The days were long. Mulder spent a lot of time at work, and divided his time between his apartment and Scully’s. Buffy sensed he was having more contact with Scully and Giles in Sunnydale than he let on. The only positive that had come out of things so far was that she had had time to have many good, long talks with her mother. Understanding was there, and Buffy vowed never again to keep her mother out of the loop. But, there came a time, where, with nothing left to say, the words tended to silence and the days grew longer still. The restlessness was compounded even further when Mulder had arrived back from work four days into their stay and informed them that Buffy was no longer a wanted woman. They could go home, leave behind the days of shopping and touring and the sleepless nights.

But Giles said no.

They would wait. Wait until they had a bead on Angel. Wait until the curse, which Willow was so close to cracking, was ready.

And in the meantime, her dreams grew heavier and heavier and more red with blood.

###

A late research party, and Willow and the Watcher were going through annals of Rumanian liturgy when the phone rang.

Giles took it in the kitchen, and returned a good half hour later with a pleased smile on his face. Willow looked at him inquisitively.

He all but rubbed his hands together. ‘They’ve found her. They’ve found the new Slayer.’

‘Oh. Oh! Cool!’ Willow stood up from the table where she had been feeding data into a translation programme. ‘Is she coming here?’

‘Yes, yes..they gave me her flight details. I’m to go and pick her up from the airport on Tuesday - that’s the second. Willow, what’s the chance of getting Buffy back here by then.’

She reached out and took the note from his hand, studying the details. ‘You mean, perform the ritual by Tuesday? That’s only four days. I just didn’t expect it to take so long. The original language - well, you know how archaic it is. We can try, but I doubt it.’

‘Yes.That’s what I thought. Willow, I’d just like to say, you’re doing an excellent job.’ He pulled his glasses off and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

She smiled. ‘Yes, well..um, thank you. Now - no more school! I can do this twenty-four hours a day until my parents come back from Phoenix. I want Buffy home very soon.’ She reseated herself at the desk and resumed typing, then paused and looked up at him. ‘The council can’t help?’

‘Ah, Willow, the council..well, it’s tricky..the council won’t help.’

‘Why not? Aren’t they supposed to protect the Slayer and fight demons and vampires and generally be helpful maybe even to the point of helping us with this spell because they care about the Slayer?’ She tugged her hair back out of her way angrily and began to braid it with short, sharps jerks.

‘Yes, that’s.....the general idea. Willow, the council needs a vast amount of work. By myself, I haven’t been able to make much headway into the tradition and lack of communication among the members. The thing with Kendra was one example. The continued horror of the Cruciamentum is another. However, a new Slayer has been called, and I wouldn’t be surprised if things started to change quite rapidly.’

‘Huh? Why now?’

‘Because a new Slayer means a new co-head of the Council. And the new Slayer’s Watcher is Genevieve Bresson, an old friend, and an advocate for change. Who just happens to be on our side.’

‘Oh! That’s good! Because I was thinking that the council was pretty much not good. Except you, of course.’

‘Well, hopefully things will change. Of old, the Watcher’s Council was a noble group of men and women who worked together to ensure the health and wellbeing of the Slayer. It would be good to return to that ideal.’

He sat down and studied Willow’s profile. She was watching the computer screen now as she listened to him and typed more liturgy into the computer. With her hair tied back she looked older, a direct contrast to the Scooby-Doo t-shirt she was wearing. Her hands flew over the keys, her eyes fell on the paper every so often to check her accuracy. Suddenly, he was struck with the knowledge of her momentous potential, and his fatherly love for the girl. She was nearly eighteen, the window of opportunity was passing. There was a sense of urgency that had not been there only two weeks ago. After discussing it with other Watchers, he was now convinced that he’d made the right decision. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the wave of nervousness that passed over him.

‘Willow? Would you like to help us? Would you like to join the Council?’

She stopped typing and looked at him warily. ‘Join the Council? But I’m not...Oh! You mean be a Watcher? Me?’

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘But...but I don’t know enough stuff! I’m no good with...lots of stuff. And, and, well - I don’t know stuff and....’

‘Willow, please, just listen a minute. As you know, I have no children. I was an only child, I have no nieces or nephews. There is no one I can train to take a place on the Council as the heir of my family line. I would be honoured if you would consent to..to train as a Watcher. I will train you.’

Willow was absolutely dumbfounded. ‘But..I..I..Oh boy!’

‘I realise this is probably a bad time to broach the subject, I know you have a lot on your mind. But I believe you’d make an excellent Watcher. The training generally covers about twenty years of work...’

‘Twenty!’ Willow squeaked.

‘Yes. Watchers are admitted to Council on their thirty-third birthday. But many have less time training than that. And as far as I’m concerned, you already have two years of training behind you. Your skills and talents in many directions mean you’d make a very good Watcher. You needn’t make your decision straight away, take some time to think it over. Oh, and Willow..’

‘Mmmm.’ Her voice trembled, and Giles could tell she was both moved and scared.

‘You needn’t worry about offending me if you choose to say no. I know full well what a large commitment it is. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me.’ He rose to his feet, and walked towards the stairwell. ‘Just - think it over.’

###

Buffy awoke sometime during the night into a sweaty all-pervasive dark, not knowing what had awakened her. Her legs were twisted up in the bedclothes, her pillow fallen to the floor, evidence of a violent dreamtime that had slipped even from the far recesses of her mind as she awoke. Chilled despite the heat, she pulled the sheets up to her chin, shifting to try and get comfortable. The display on the bedside clock read three-thirty a.m. Joyce, in the bed opposite, was snoring lightly. The Slayer lay still for what seemed like an eternity, listening to her mother breathe. Then, as if in a dream, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Moving as quietly as she could, she slipped on trackpants and a t-shirt, sliding a stake into the waistband of her pants. She paused by the doorway, silent, listening to make sure her mother was still asleep. Then she slipped through the doorway and into the hall, crossing the lounge where she unlocked the deadbolts and slid out into the night.

###

The harsh, jarring ring of his bedside phone woke Giles out of his light sleep with a start. Trying to orientate himself, he reached for the phone and managed to knock it to the ground. Grasping wildly for the handpiece, he swung around so he was sitting on the side of the bed.

‘Yes, hello’

‘Rupert. It’s Mulder.’ Giles felt a cold chill at the sound of the man’s voice.

‘What’s wrong?!’ He tried, unsuccessfully to keep his voice calm.

‘Buffy’s missing. Joyce woke up and found her gone from the bed. The front door was wide open. We don’t know how long she’s been gone. There’s no sign of a struggle, Joyce didn’t hear anything. It’s just after four here.’

‘Oh hell. The stupid girl. She must have gone after Angel...’

‘There hasn’t been any indication that he’s here. She could be anywhere.’

‘If Angel is anywhere near, she’ll know. Look...just sit tight..’

‘Joyce is beside herself. She wants to go after her.’

‘Well, she can’t.’

‘She’s not taking no for an answer. She’s hysterical. I’m going to have to go with her. Is the restoration rite ready?’

‘No, not quite..but I ...’

‘Look, Rupert, we’ll find her. But if you’ve got that spell, now would be the time to do it. Best thing would be to keep this line clear. Buffy can look after herself, and we’ll find her.’ The phone clicked in his ear and he slammed the receiver down. ‘Shit!’ He stood and pulled his robe on.

Wakened by the phone, Willow appeared wraithlike in the doorway. Her white nightdress shone pale and ghostly and her voice was lazy with sleep. ‘Giles?’

‘Buffy’s missing. I think she’s gone after Angel. Mr Mulder and Joyce have gone out after her. Willow, we have to do that spell now!’ He grabbed his glasses and put them on.

‘But it’s not ready! There’s one part I’m not sure about. I’m not sure it’s right.’ She rubbed her eyes, trying to focus.

‘It’s just going to have to be. Buffy’s in trouble.’

Willow gathered herself, and suddenly realised where she was. She crossed her arms over her chest and ran down the hall towards the spare room. When she returned, he saw she had buttoned a shirt over her nightgown. Her expression was determined as she turned to face him. ‘Okay. We have to do it. Do it now.’ She set off down the stairs. Giles followed after her, pausing at the bottom of the stairs to retrieve the Orb of Thesulah from where it sat glowing with pale light on a pile of books by the side table. It was warm in his hand, waiting. As he lifted it into the air it gave a pulse of bright light, bathing the room in sudden silver.

###

Buffy sat on the front stairs of an apartment complex, the stake in her hand tracing figures on the concrete as she waited. Her mind was pleasantly blank, save the little niggle that she felt in the same place that she usually felt her spider-sense. The niggle told her to sit here, and not to move. She was happy to accede to its demands.

She knew he was there before she saw him. She felt the chill of evil like a cramp, felt it cloud her mind before she could but up her defences. As soon as she spoke, the cloud retreated, hovering on the horizon.

‘Hello Angel. I’ve been waiting for you.’

The vampire stepped out of the shadow cast by the bus stop and smiled at her, a smile of genuine joy.

‘I’m glad, Buffy. It makes it so much easier.’

She stood, and tucked her stake into her waistband. Taking a few steps toward him, she returned the smile. ‘Don’t you feel it? We’re supposed to be here tonight. Something has been calling us.’

‘To the nation’s great capital. Rather romantic, is it not?’

‘I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.’

‘I would have liked a full moon, but that’s so cliched. A Slayer meeting her death on the full moon. Fitting, but done already.’ His smile had changed from a genuine welcoming beam to the evil grin of a shark. ‘You know - I’m still getting that feeling. That there’s something not quite right about you. It just teases, at the back of my mind. I guess I’ve got a little psychic twinkle.’

‘I’m fine, Angel.’ She reached out her hand and he took it lightly, caressing her palm with the tip of his thumb. ‘You know, tonight it is about you and me. No diversions, no statues. I have so much to teach you.’ She withdrew her hand and looked up, straight into his eyes. ‘Yeah. Just you, and me.’

Suddenly, the shape of the night took on clarity in her mind. They would fight, and tonight one of them would die.

He stiffened slightly. ‘You’re not afraid.’

‘No. I know you. You’re no more frightening than any other future I can think of for myself. This way...it becomes one or the other, not the possibility of both. I need that.’

‘Well, Buff, whatever the hell you’re talking about - you’re gonna get it. The games are over....’ he looked up, suddenly distracted by the sound of running feet and long drawn out scream. Buffy followed his gaze and saw her mother and Mulder coming around the corner, the agent with his gun drawn. As she watched, he stopped in his tracks, and sighted down the line of his weapon. Angel hissed, his demon face appearing as if by magic. He looked around wildly, and ran.

Buffy felt a feeling of immense calm and purpose come over her. She stood frozen for a brief second, then, before her mother could hitch in breath for a second scream, she ran after Angel.

The vampire was running, bent low, towards the side of the apartment block, to a garage door opening in the concrete wall. She heard Mulder’s gun explode into fire, and his yell as he missed. Another volley of shots missed their mark and Joyce screamed again as Angel threw himself through the doorway and hit the door control.

As soon as she had dived through the garage door after the vampire, she realised that this was exactly where he wanted her. It was a vast concrete basement, lit by a single low wattage lightbulb hanging naked and dusty from a short cord. There was nothing that could conceivably be used as a weapon, and aside from the door she had come through, there was no way out. In the split second it took her to determine this, Angelus attacked.

He grabbed her by the neck, squeezing hard. She brought both hands down hard on his forearms, and was able to kick him in the shins. He let go of her neck and they traded blows to the head, moving towards a concrete column that supported the roof. Angel tried to sweep her legs out from underneath her, almost succeeding, but throwing an arm wide to keep his balance.

She grabbed for the extended arm, and holding it straight at elbow and wrist, used her momentum to swing him against the column. She felt the impact bounce back up her arm and again felt a wave of deathly calm sweep over her. Angelus, staggering back away from the column, straightened, apparently unharmed. Ducking a closed fisted left from her, he again went to sweep her legs out from under her. This time she jumped aside quickly and retreated several metres out into the garage space, letting him come after her. Moving further and further from the entranceway, the two exchanged a flurry of punches and kicks. The fight was moving at such a fast pace that Buffy let her fighting instinct, born of a millennia of Slayers fighting, take over from her conscious mind. Within seconds she had dropped Angelus with a jumping double kick to his face. She drove her heel into his gut and he cried out in pain, rolling out of her way before she could follow up to his head.

Later, she told Giles she didn’t know exactly why she did it, but she was fighting on instinct and the fight was mapped out, clear and slow in front of her. Instead of capitalising on her advantage, she stepped back and allowed the vampire to get to his feet. He smirked at her, his composure returning instantly.

‘Oh, hell, Buffy - that’s pathetic. What - you still can’t kill me? That’s getting a bit old, isn’t it?’

She stood, drawing deep breaths, as he came for her. Just before he reached for her she dove to one side, and handsprung to kick him again in the head. Her left hand slipped out from underneath her and her elbow locked. She had a moment of terror bursting through her calm as she realised she had missed her target and was going to land badly. Then Angel caught her, and even as he moved back towards the shadowed corner of the garage, he spun, and threw her out into the light from the naked bulb.

Buffy felt the information from her senses coming through in slow motion, as if the world itself had slowed down - the disorientating feeling of flying through the air and the noise of bone snapping and her body hitting the ground with a thud. She heard Angel’s laugh and pulled herself to a sitting position, looking around wildly. He had retreated further into the far corner, and was surveying her intently.

‘Well, lover, it looks like you have a little problem. I wouldn’t worry very much. It won’t seem like much of a problem for long.’

A silver ray suddenly broke through the gloom. A commotion in the doorway resolved itself into the shape and sound of Mulder, stake clutched in his hand. Joyce was hot on his heels. Seeing Angelus advancing from the far shadows of the garage, Buffy yelled ‘Get back! Mom! Get the hell out of here!’ Looking down at her leg, sticking out at an unnatural angle underneath her, she found herself wondering why she felt no pain. The air was beginning to shimmer, to vibrate with a kind of violent life, and the same part of her questioned why nobody else seemed to notice.

The vampire was only five metres away now, and he stopped, his long shadow looming over her. He addressed Joyce, ‘Now, Mrs Summers. Joyce, if I may...I’ve kinda got to thinking, are you blaming yourself right now? Because I have the feeling that if you’d persuaded Buffy to take me back when I asked you to, we wouldn’t be here right now. And I’m guessing that being here and watching your daughter die isn’t gonna make your day.’ He grinned evilly. ‘Mine, on the other hand, is looking up.’

Buffy felt the air give a violent shake. Mulder started, then looked around in wonder as the silver light began to grow. It seemed to come not from the doorway, but from everywhere and nowhere, from the air itself. Joyce backed toward the door, holding the doorframe in her hands.

Suddenly the light drew together, almost as if it were drawing breath. Buffy heard a yell, not with her ears but ringing loudly in her mind, a language older than the demon standing over her.

‘Utrespur aceastui! Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie! Acum! Acum!’

Joyce clapped her hands to her ears. The light moved. It descended on Angelus like a bolt of lightening, striking him to the ground, growing so bright that they all had to look away. Then as quickly as it had struck, it disappeared.

Three sets of eyes stared at the figure lying prone on the floor. It did not move. Joyce rushed to her daughter’s side, and seeing her leg injured underneath her, pulled Buffy back and supported her against her side. ‘Mom!’ Buffy clutched her mother’s sleeve. ‘What the hell happened? Are you alright? What was that?’. Her mother, terrified to the point of collapse, had no answer.

Mulder was slowly advancing towards the body when it moved. All three drew back, watching the figure stagger to its feet. Mulder gripped his stake more tightly.

The vampire turned to face them, and Buffy saw confusion on his face. Mulder moved towards the obviously weakened demon, stake poised to dust him.

‘No! Wait! Please!’ In the split second that the figure had held her eye, Buffy had seen the loss and bewilderment in his. The sorrow she saw there made her draw a breath. ‘The restoration..Mr Mulder! Don’t....I heard Willow! Did you hear her? She finished the ritual!’

Angel gasped in pain. Mulder took one look at Buffy’s face and dropped the stake. It hit the floor and skittered across the dust, coming to rest at the feet of the Slayer. Pushing her mother away, Buffy grabbed the stake and began to crawl towards the collapsing vampire. Joyce screamed and reached for her daughter, but Mulder was too quick for her. He seized her by the shoulders, pulling her backward away from Buffy. ‘Just wait!’ he hissed into her ear. ‘Watch!’

Buffy caught Angel as he fell, leaving Mulder to wonder again at her strength. She was obviously in great pain, but he sensed the tears streaming down her cheeks had nothing to do with her broken leg. Joyce relaxed back into his arms, realising that in this state the vampire posed no threat. The silence in the room was almost complete.

‘Angel?’ The Slayer looked down at the man in her arms and felt her voice cut through his confusion. His eyes showed recognition and he turned his head slightly to take in her face. The girl sobbed and pulled him closer towards her.

‘Buffy? I went...I went away....I was dreaming. I dreamed these horrible things and I was trying to wake up so I could see you...but I couldn’t, I couldn’t somehow....I...’

‘Sssshhh...’ she put her finger to his lips ‘ ..hey..it’s okay, I’m here now.’ She ran her hand through his hair and turned towards the two on-looking adults. The expression on her daughter’s face almost broke Joyce’s heart, and she had to turn away, hiding her face in the soft cotton of Mulder’s sweat top. Mulder was about to speak, but before he could draw breath the Slayer felt Angel stiffen and her focus immediately switched back to the vampire.

The look on Angel’s face now was one of pure horror and understanding, striking Buffy with an instant chill. He struggled to sit up, almost fighting to get away from her. ‘It wasn’t a dream, was it? It wasn’t a dream, it was me. I couldn’t wake up because it was me!’ A spasm of pain passed over his face. ‘Was it? Buffy....tell me.. did I do those things? Did I lose my soul?’ Again he faltered, gasping for breath, shaking with loss and realisation.

Buffy could not lie. ‘Yes.’ she said simply, and reached for him. He tore himself from her grip, attempting to rise to his feet. He made it halfway, then with a cry of pain, crashed once more to the ground, unconscious.

###

End of Part Seven.

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