Chapter 9
Encounter
The ride back to Buffy’s house was quiet. Giles and Buffy lost in thought, Dusk behind them on his bike much in the same state. They’d decided that’d had enough for one night, calling from her cell phone, Buffy told Willow to let everyone know she’d decided to head home. Willow didn’t ask what had happened, but had let her know that indeed there was minor incantation protecting the tome from the Mayor’s, she’d been able to take care of it fairly easily. Buffy also told her to tell Spike and Angel, that under no circumstances were they to go into the sewers for any reason whatsoever.
“Is it bad?” Willow asked her.
“It's beyond bad,” Buffy replied, “I’ll fill you in tomorrow,”
Willow wished Buffy a good night before hanging up.
Giles and Buffy pulled into her driveway, Dusk right behind them. Exchanging a few supportive words with Buffy and Dusk, Giles pulled out of the driveway and headed back to the shop, to begin work translating the journal. Dusk shut off his bike, and walked over to Buffy,
“Hell of a night, huh?” Buffy snorted slightly.
“Yeah, you could say that. You sticking around?” Dusk nodded,
“I’m gonna check on Dawn. Figured I’d say hello,” Buffy smiled a little.
“You really got a soft spot for the kid, don’t you?” Dusk shrugged uncomfortably,
“I suppose. Guess I just don’t think it’s fair for a child to be saddled with such a responsibility,” he turned to regard the slayer, “I’m assuming you can relate,” Buffy froze; she’d never considered that.
“Yeah. Yeah I can,” she exhaled hard, “Guess I should cut her some slack, huh?” Dusk nodded.
“It’d be a good idea, unlike you, she has absolutely no idea what’s going on. It’s going to be quite a shock,” he shook his head, “It’s not easy to go from Backstreet Boys to H.P. Lovecraft,” Buffy nodded,
“Yeah I know what you mean, Backstreet boys are WAY scarier,” Dusk chuckled as he opened the door. Joyce came out to greet them with a plate of cookies. The whole house had been done up in lights and a large kerosene heater glowed in the corner brightly, staffing off the unusually cold weather for California.
“Buffy, you’re home,” she hugged her daughter who looked a tad confused,
“Mom, it’s like 1 A.M., what are you doing up…and baking?” Joyce shrugged,
“I know honey, but I couldn’t sleep, I’m just so excited. The holiday season coming up and all,” Buffy nodded solemnly,
“Yeah, way to pre-empt Christmas,” she took a cookie from the plate as Joyce lifted her head to regard Dusk,
“Oh Dusk, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for you watching Dawn the other night, let me get my purse so I can pay you,” Dusk shook his head,
“Forget it, Mrs. Summers, consider it a Christmas present,” Joyce stopped and stared at him, dumbfounded. She’d never heard of someone watching Dawn who didn’t want to be paid handsomely, apparently neither had Buffy,
“You sure, Bro? I mean, you stayed with her for hours, you’re at least entitled to hazard pay,” Dusk grinned and chuckled, taking a Christmas cookie from the plate,
“Just keep me in ready supply of these delicious cookies, Mrs. Summers, and we’ll call it even, fair enough?” Joyce blushed and smiled at the compliment,
“Fair enough, Dusk,” Buffy chuckling patted Dusk’s arm,
“Smooth talker,” she quipped, Dusk cleared his throat and looked upstairs,
“Dawn still awake?” he asked gently. Joyce nodded,
“I decided to let her have one of her presents early, she’s upstairs with it right now,” Dusk nodded and turned to her and Buffy,
“I’m just gonna go upstairs. Wish her a goodnight,” he gauged their reactions, and was relieved that neither showed any indication that they believed his motivations ran any deeper than what he had presented. Which they didn’t…didn’t they? Buffy gave his arm an affectionate squeeze,
“Go tell the little monstrosity I said hi, would you?” Dusk nodded,
“Not a problem,” munching contently on his Christmas cookie he headed up the stairs. Reaching Dawn’s room, he quietly knocked,
“Go away!” came the response from the other side of the door.
There was a pause, then a familiar voice emitted from the other side of the door,
“Okay. Sorry,” Dusk replied. Dawn’s eyes widened and, nearly dropping her new video camera, she dove for the door, fumbled with the lock and yanked it open,
“Dusk,” she beamed at him, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “Hi. Sorry I thought you were someone else,” Dusk smiled slightly,
“I guess so. Can I come in?” Dawn bobbed her head,
“Uh-huh, sure,” Dusk smiled and gestured,
“Cute pajamas, flannel is you,” he said smiling. Dusk blushed furiously,
“They were a gift,” she offered as an explanation.
“Ah,” Dusk replied still smiling as he entered her room. As his back was turned, Dawn nearly hopped with glee. ( I’ve got this guy, in my bedroom, at night. This is SO going in my diary. ) She quickly regained her composure as she raced past him, jumped back into her bed and pulled the covers over herself. Dusk smiled and sat down next to her on the bed.
“What’s this?” he asked as he picked up Dawn’s new PalmCam,” Dawn grinned excited,
“Isn’t it cool? Mom gave it to me,” taking the camera from him, she turned it on and started filming him, “Dusk, you’ve just won the World Series, what are you going to do next?” Dusk grinned as he addressed the camera,
“I’m going to Disneyland,” Dawn giggled and continued to film him, every now and then, zooming on his eyes or his lips. Dawn suddenly noticed her heart was pounding and quickly rushed to fill in the silence,
“So what did you do today? Fight vampires? Save the world?” Dusk shook his head,
“Still working on it,” he replied smiling. Dawn grinned and bit her lower lip in pleasure,
“Oh come on, you can tell me. How’s it feel to be a real-life action hero?” The question struck a chord and Dusk considered a while before answering, looking into the camera,
“Dawn, we’re all heroes. We get up in the morning, go to work so we can provide for our families, or go to school so we can learn about the world we live in, we all do what we have to do. That’s all a hero is, petite, someone who simply does what he has to do,” he finished.
“Ommmmmm,” Dawn hummed mantra-like, Dusk and her both laughed at that.
“All right grasshopper, what do you think qualifies as a hero?” Dusk asked her amused. Dawn thought for a while before answering, never taking the camera off of him,
“Someone who is isn’t afraid of anything. Who’ll never quit and never die and will always win in the end,” Dusk smiled and shook his head wryly.
“You think I’ll never die huh?” he commented smiling looking up at her through his bangs. Dawn nodded her head,
“The good guys never die, and you definitely qualify,” Dusk chuckled shaking his head.
“That’s not a bad way to think I suppose, perhaps a little naive, but it’s sweet. But you’re wrong about the other part,” Dawn frowned a little,
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Being a hero doesn’t mean you’re never afraid, it means doing the right thing even though you are afraid. It means willing to give everything you’ve got and more, to do the right thing, the thing that needs doing you know? ‘Fighting the good fight.’” Dusk considered for a moment to make sure he wasn’t boring the young girl, she eagerly nodded and gestured for him to continue, with a chuckle he did so,
“ A hero also is someone who after they're gone, people still remember them, they try to live as they lived. Heroes inspire others to do the right thing, because they themselves do their best to do the right thing. They don’t always succeed, but the point is that they do whatever it takes and they give it their all,” Dusk smiled, “I guess in a way, heroes never really die, because they live on in the hearts and the actions of the people they inspire,” Dawn smiled and shook her head,
“That was deep” she joked wryly. Dusk chuckled and smiled at her,
“Oh, you’re tough,” he grinned.
“On that note, this is Dawn Summers live with Alec “Dusk” Giles signing off,” she pulled back the zoom lens to get as much of him as possible in the shot,
“Say goodbye Dusk,” she grinned. Dusk gave her his infamous warm “fuzzies-causing” smile as he held up his hand in farewell, gazing into the camera,
“Goodbye Dawn,” he replied quietly. Smiling she shut off the camera and put it down,
“You think I’d make a good reporter?” she asked Dusk, he nodded,
“I know I wouldn’t be able to refuse you an interview,” he tousled her hair affectionately; she smiled and gently nuzzled her head into his palm like an affectionate cat. He sat there, stroking her hair for a long time, Dawn’s expression went from blissful to serene, her eyes closed a small smile creased her lips as Dusk stroked her hair.
“Dusk? Dawn?” Joyce called from downstairs; abruptly Dusk snatched his hand from Dawn’s head, causing her eyes to snap open, as if she has been rudely awakened from a nice dream. He reached over to open the door,
“Yes, Mrs. Summers?
“Why don’t you and Dawn come down for some more cookies and hot chocolate? I’ve even got the little marshmallows,” Dusk snorted wryly, Spikes’ love of those little marshmallows was legendary, apparently it was also well known. Chuckling, he got up from the bed and turned to Dawn,
“You feel like a som-“ he stopped as he noticed the look on her face, for a moment, a look of infinite sadness and grief washed over her, ravaging her delicate features.
“Hey,” Dusk whispered, sitting back down next to Dawn, “Are you okay?” Without replying, Dawn suddenly threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing as tightly as she could. Dusk put his arms around her startled, holding her.
“You’ll always be my hero, Alec,” she whispered in a broken little girl voice. Dusk frowned, she’d never called him by his first name before. He rocked her soothingly,
“Hey, come on petite,” he coaxed gently, pulling away from her slightly, touching her face, alarmed to see tears welling in her eyes, “What’s up with the water works?”
Dawn sniffled before laughing, embarrassed,
“I don’t know, I guess I’m just tired,” she sniffled again, “It’s nothing really, I’m fine,” she gave him a brave smile. Dusk smiled and placed a lingering kiss against her forehead; Dawn closed her eyes and smiled, her features draining of misery to be replaced by contentment. His lips left her brow, and her gave her hair a gently stroke.
“Come on, I bet I can eat more Christmas cookies than you can,” he challenged. Dawn opened her eyes, a gleam of mischief shined in them,
“Not if I get there first!” she cried. Giving him a hard shove, he tumbled off the bed, onto the plush carpet below. As she raced past him, he made a futile grab at her leg,
“Well, she takes after her sister,” he observed dryly. Chuckling, he scrambled to his feet and chased after her.
He skidded into the kitchen to see Dawn and Buffy casually eating Christmas cookies. Joyce was busily slicing apples with an unusually large knife. Dusk caught her eye and frowned puzzled. Joyce smiled parentally,
“The dishwasher doesn’t seem to be working and someone forgot to do dishes last night” she offered as an explanation, turning a gently admonishing look to Dawn. Dawn ignored her and smiled innocently at Dusk,
“Hi Dusk. What took you so long?” Dusk sent a mock-angry glare at her,
“Someone knocked me to the floor at the prospect of hot chocolate,” Dawn giggled and covered her mouth with her hands. Buffy sent her sister a wry look and regarded Dusk,
“I told you, you needed hazard pay to take care of this little nightmare,” she smiled affectionately and tousled Dawn’s hair. Dawn responded by sticking her tongue out at her, which was covered in half-digested cookie goo. Buffy made a face,
“Oh yeah, the honies’ will be banging your door down with that little display,” Dawn shrugged and went back to her cookie. Dusk snickered and walked over to the stove to get some cocoa when he noticed an odd smell. He inhaled once, twice, the scent was very faint. (Methane? ) He frowned, and shook his head pouring some cocoa for himself, adding a couple of marshmallows before sitting down at the table,
“So what are your plans for Christmas dinner Mrs. Summers?” Dusk inquired.
“Oh I don’t know, Dusk. I can’t seem to make my mind between turkey and ham. I need to work on a guest list,” Joyce replied. Dusk chuckled.
“If Buffy’s planning on bringing everyone, you’re going to wind up feeding half of the living population of Sunnydale,” he chuckled, “and possibly one or two of the walking dead,” he finished his voice heavily sardonic. Buffy socked him in the arm for his transgression. Joyce shrugged uncomfortably,
“If Spike is planning on attending,” she turned to Buffy, “Is Spike planning on attending?” Buffy smiled and shook her head,
“Spike isn’t big on turkey, mom. It’s okay, I promise that only the living will be eating Christmas dinner this year,” Joyce smiled, perhaps a little relieved. She clearly was uncomfortable with her daughter dating a vampire that she’d once hit with an axe. But also, if Buffy wanted to do that, what right did she have to complain? ( At least she’s never dated a psychotic robot. ) She thought to herself with a touch of grim humor.
“In any case, he’ll probably stop by, he just won’t eat, but he tells me he makes a mean pecan pie,” she chuckled at the thought of Spike cooking, “he also tells me you have to be over twenty-one in order to eat it,” Dusk chortled,
“Likes to spike his pastries does he? No pun intended,” Buffy shot him a wry look,
“Something like that,” she replied, raising her voice a little to be heard over the pipes that picked that moment to start groaning and rumbling. She frowned and sniffed the air,
“You smell something?” she asked Dusk. He nodded,
“Yeah like methane or something?” he turned to Joyce, who was headed to the sink to wash her hands,
“Mrs. Summers, do you have a septic system or anything like that?” Joyce shook her head as she twisted the knob on the sink, frowning as no water came out,
“No, we use public water. Which doesn’t seem to be-UGH!” she cried out as black ooze splattered over her hands, the stench of methane and rot was now overpowering. Dawn made a face,
“Mom, what IS that?” she asked, Buffy and Dusk with both on their feet as they walked over to Joyce, who was wiping the foul smelling goo off with a dishtowel,
“I don’t know honey, it just came ou-”
And with a groan of tortured metal, the whole faucet blew off like a geyser, sending plaster and metal flying through the air as black ooze spewed volcanically into the air.
Joyce shrieked and fell back, Dawn got to her feet and backed away as the sink begin filling with the vile substance that was bubbling up through the drain. Suddenly, something writhed in the pool of muck and some sort of pseudopod lashed out and wrapped itself around Joyce’s neck hoisting her high into the air,
“Mom!” Buffy cried out as she dashed to her mothers rescue. Dusk reached her first, and with a single movement, snatched up the knife Joyce had been using and whipped it at the dripping tentacle that was crushing the life out of the poor woman. It flew end over end and sliced neatly through the viscous appendage, spraying muck against the wall, dropping Joyce to the floor hard, she choked and coughed as a high-pitched shriek reverberated through the room. Buffy slide across the floor and sheltered her mothers’ body with her own.
“Mom, are you all right?” she asked, nearly hysterical, Joyce nodded, still coughing.
“Buffy? We got problems!” Dusk yelled, Buffy turned just in time to see a huge upper humanoid body forming out of the ooze, its demonic head brushing against the ceiling as its body writhed and dripped black ooze. Pieces of root and rotted mulch clung to its body as it leered at them with glowing green eyes. Reaching out with dripping hands it flowed out of the sink to land with a splattering thump on the tile floor, before rearing up like a great snake before them, the entire sink and kitchen counter was now completely covered in the rotting ooze.
“Give us the Key,” it burbled in a voice, coming from a multitude of oozing clefts, that had sprouted from what passed for its head, Buffy could only guess they were mouths. The voice was made up of a chorus of voices, men, women, children young and hold it was utterly alien and unspeakably horrible. With another inhumanly high-pitched shriek, it flowed across the tile floor and lunged for Dawn, who was paralyzed with fear.
“Christ kid, look out!” Dusk yelled as he shielded her body with his own, his jacket flaring up like a shield around them. Darkness crackled and came to life, causing the coat to become a great winged cloak that draped over his back like a shield as he protected the terrified Dawn. The thing reared back and hissing, spat a glob of something at Dusk. Most of it struck the darkness shield and slide away to begin eating through the tile floor, but some splattered onto Dusk’s shoulders and arms and. He screamed in pain, closing his eyes tight as tears of agony leaked through his closed lids while the foul muck slowly worked its way down his back. The smell of seared flesh pervaded the room as the black ooze began to eat through his skin. The dripping abomination and hissed again, rearing back to vomit forth more corrosive ooze.
“Hey Swamp Thing!” Buffy yelled out, the viscous creature turned to her, snarling, its writhing face contorted inhumanely…and with a heave, Buffy hurled the kerosene tank from the heater at it. Something resembling surprise crossed its demonic features, before the tank collided into it. The oozing monstrosity screeched as kerosene coated it, writhing back and forth, attempting to slough off the flammable liquid. Reaching out and ripping down a long string of Christmas lights, Buffy smashed a handful of the bulbs, ignoring the pain as sparks shot out of the sockets. Bundling it up, she turned back to the creature, which had reared up before her, ready to strike.
“Deck the halls, you walking oil slick,” she growled and with a heave, threw the sparking strand of Christmas lights. They sank into the slimy muck and with sparks flaring from the broken bulbs, the kerosene that had soaked into it ignited with a loud whoosh! The creature screeched in pain as flames quickly engulfed it. Wailing, it writhed back and forth like a great flaming serpent and with a last cry of rage, it exploded, Buffy hurled herself over her mothers body, Dusk, still in extreme agony, covered Dusk with his own battered body, as charred pieces of scorched ooze and seared rotting vegetation splattered the walls, the ceiling coating everything and everyone in the room with viscous slime. Then, aside from Dusk’s moans of pain and the crackling of burning creature, it was quiet. Buffy, coated in goo, gently moved off her mother.
“Mom? Are you all right? Come on, talk to me!” Joyce swallowed and nodded, blinking back tears,
“Yes, I’m…all right,” alarmed she sat up, “Dawn?!”
With a groan, Dusk rolled off Dawn, “Mom, Buffy come quick, he’s hurt!” Dawn cried out, semi-hysterical. Buffy rushed over to him, and stripped off his jacket and shirt to get to his skin, she gasped aloud when she saw his injuries.
Three fist-sized globs of ooze clung to the skin on his back, which was now blistered and puckered.
“Jesus, it’s killing him,” she nearly gagged at the sight and the smell, as the ooze slowly ate his skin, “I need fire! Now!” Joyce cleared a piece of flaming debris from the kitchen table and snatched up a lighter. She dashed over to Buffy, putting it in her hands,
“Here,” Joyce breathed as she gathered the sobbing Dawn in a tight hug, “Oh my baby girl,” she whispered soothingly to her, still a little frantic herself. Buffy flicked the lighter and shredding a piece of her shirt, wrapped it around a fork that was on the floor and lit it. She looked apologetically at Dusk,
“This is really going to hurt,” she informed him, he only moaned, barely conscious from the pain. With a grunt of effort, she plunged the flaming fork into the first blob. There was a tiny shriek as it popped like an overripe melon. Dusk snarled in pain, but remained still as she skewered the second and third one. Dusk groaned, and mercifully passed out. Buffy sighed, examining the damage. Dusks back was scarred and pitted, but already, the demonic essence his body was infused with was causing the wounds to heal. Sniffling, Dawn came over to her, holding Dusk’s still smoking jacket tightly in her fingers.
“He…he saved my life,” she whispered, “is he going to be okay?” she asked Buffy, tearfully. Buffy nodded and exhaled hard,
“Yeah, I think so, must hurt like hell though,” gingerly she helped the unconscious man to his feet, Joyce rushed over to assist and they carried him out to the living room.
“Mom, I need to get him back to Giles’ shop. He’s got a first aid kit, and I need to talk to the others,” Joyce nodded.
“All right Buffy, I’ll be happy to drive you. Dawn honey? Could you get the door please?” Dawn, desperate to do something to help, jerked it open and raced out in the driveway to open the door.
“Is he okay?” she asked again, still deeply wigged, Buffy nodded again attempting to ease her sisters’ fears.
“He’s out cold, but he should be okay,” Buffy replied as she gently eased Dusk into the back seat, gently laying him down on her lap, whispering soothing words to him and stroking his hair back, she looked up at Joyce and Dawn, “Mom, to Giles’ step on it!” Dawn piled into the passenger seat as Joyce got in the car and started it going, pulling out of the driveway and heading to Giles’ at breakneck speed.
The door burst open as Joyce and Buffy carried the ragged looking and still unconscious Dusk into the store. Eyes widened and jaws dropped as they took in the two goo-covered women and the battered and charred young man that they were desperately trying to hold aloft.
“Alec!” Willow cried out, knocking over her chair and racing to him, Giles came out of the back room at the commotion. One look at his sons’ condition drained all the color out of his face,
“My God,” he whispered racing over to help, “What happened here?” he demanded.
“The Hellmouth sent us a little Christmas card. This… thing spat on him, he’s got some pretty bad burns. Whatever that gunk was it seemed to thrive on human flesh,” Buffy explained. Giles swept a table clear of its contents, spilling books and papers and empty pizza boxes onto the floor. Hoisting his son up, he laid him out on his stomach. Reaching over, he flipped on an overhead lamp to examine him. Three large pucker marks, each with a single raised black welt in the center, surrounded by a large ring of angry red flesh, graced Dusks back. Willow’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes tearing.
“Alec,” she whispered. She turned to Buffy, “Is he...?” Buffy shook her head.
“Just out like a light, those things were trying to burrow their way into his skin, a little fire convinced them otherwise,” Giles leapt away and grabbed a jar of something from a shelf. Ripping the lid off, he poured the contents onto his sons’ wounds; they began to foam and sizzle. Giles shook his head angrily,
“They’re still inside him,” he declared grimly, “I need fire and some alcohol,”
“I’ve got it covered, mate,” Spike came up to them, sparing a glace to make sure Buffy was okay, then reaching into his jacket to remove a flask and a lighter. Unscrewing the flask, he poured the contents across Dusks back, “Vintage Glenlivet. Best there is,” he muttered tossing the flask aside, he flicked his Zippo open, “let’s see if the little bastards can hold their liquor,” with a snarl he pushed the lit flame into Dusks back. There was another whoosh and a series of high-pitched screeches as the black welts started to rise out of his back, revealing tiny parasites that resembled leeches with big rows and rows of needle-like teeth. They reared up tiny mouths, and hissed at Giles with parasitic rage.
“Tweezers!” Giles demanded. Xander slapped a pair into his hand along with some gloves. Yanking the gloves on, Giles darted in the tweezers and plucked each one of the parasites out of his sons’ body, dumping them in the now-empty herb jar.
“He’s clear! Put him out!” Giles yelled. Anya came up with a fire extinguisher and coated Dusk in the cold powder. The flames quickly died out, leaving only the scent of scorched skin and burnt parasite. Angel came from behind with a first-aid kit. Giles accepted it gratefully and began smearing anti-burn cream across Dusks back. Willow held Dusks hand tightly. Her eyes watering, she looked up at Giles.
“Is he okay now?” she asked imploringly. Giles nodded as he started placing bandages across his back.
“I should think so, yes. The parasites have been extracted and alcohol flames are not all that hot. He’ll be sore and a little scorched, but he should be fine,” he finished applying the bandages and turned to Angel.
“Angel, there’s a couch in the back, could you make sure Alec is comfortable?” Angel nodded.
“Sure. No problem,” gingerly picking up the unconscious man, Angel carried him to the back, Willow with him every step of the way. Giles sighed and turned to Buffy, who was still caked in grime.
“You should get that washed off, there’s a shower stall over there,” he gestured to another corner of the shop, “do you have some spare clothes?” She nodded,
“I’ve got some sweatpants and stuff in my locker. I’ll go get them,” she turned and left. Giles turned to Mrs. Summer and Dawn,
“Are you both all right? Are you injured?” They both shook their heads,
“I’m fine, just a little sore and very scared,” Joyce replied. Giles turned to scrutinize Dawn,
“Dawn, are you all right?” she looked up at him, her lower lip trembling,
“He saved me, from it,” Giles immediately understood where Dusks wounds came from.
“He shielded you from it?” Dawn nodded,
“He saved me,” she whispered again, tears beginning to stream down her face, the strain of the evening beginning to tell on her. Joyce quickly gathered her up in a hug, turning her head to Giles,
“Is there another bed somewhere?” Giles shook his head.
“I’m afraid not, however you’re more than welcome to stay at my home, I wouldn’t advise you to go back to your house. I’ll drive over with you both,” Dawn pulled away and shook her head,
“No, I want to stay with Dusk, please?” she implored her mother tearfully, Giles leaned towards her to look her in the eye,
“Alec needs to rest. Dawn, don’t worry, you’ll be safe at my house,”
“I’ll go with them,” Angel added, coming back into the room, he walked over to Giles who straightened to greet him with a questioning look. Angel gestured to the back room, “He’s resting quietly, Willow’s with him,” he replied to Giles’ unspoken question, he turned to face Joyce,
“Hello Joyce, it’s nice to see you again,”
“Hello Angel,” she responded, a little coolly, perhaps remembering that her last long conversation with him had entailed the notion it would be best for him to stay away from her daughter, for her own good. Then she relaxed visibly and smiled at him gratefully, “Thank you Angel, Dawn and I would be grateful if you’d come stay with us,” Angel nodded gratefully and collected his coat. He placed a hand on Dawn’s shoulder and gently tried to guide her out the door, she resisted.
“No,” she said pitifully. Angel kneeled to regard her,
“He’ll be fine, Dawn. You can see him first thing in the morning, all right?”
Dawn considered before letting her mother gently take her by the shoulders and lead her out of the store. Angel waited until they were both out of earshot, before turning to Giles,
“What do you think happened?” Giles took off his glasses and pinched the skin of his nose in tension,
“I don’t know, but as soon as Buffy finishes cleaning up, I intend to ask her,” he turned a worried gaze at the back room where he could here Willow sniffling, “Apparently the Hellmouth has decided to make the first move,” he turned back to face Angel, who nodded. Giles had filled everybody in on what Dracula had told them, “We’re running out of time,”
“Dracula said that the Hellmouth wanted Dawn, looks like he was right,” Angel stuck his hands in his pockets and headed out the door. Giles followed him; stopping short of the door he turned to address the group,
“The rest of you, please, keep an eye on Alec, and for God sakes, keep alert,” Faith came out from behind the stack of books she had hidden behind when Joyce had come in, which was fairly prudent given their last encounter,
“Will do. Anything that tries for him has to through me,” she jutted her chin out proudly.
“Through US,” Xander amended standing behind her, Anya came over to wrap an arm around his waist. Spike just nodded,
“Damn right!” he yelled. Giles smiled, his tension draining,
“Thank you,” he expressed gratefully, confident in leaving his injured son in good hands. He smiled at them again and walked out, closing the door behind him. Xander shook his head ruefully, before heading to the back room to check on Willow and Dusk. She was sitting in a chair, holding his hand with both her hands, he was resting on his stomach, some of the color had come back to his face and the lines of pain had eased from his face.
“How is he?” Xander inquired gently.
“He’s fantastic, next stupid question,” rasped a weak reply, though not from Willow. Willow leapt from her chair and crouched by the head of the couch as Dusk opened his eyes and rotated onto his side with a groan.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Willow asked stroking his face, he caught her hand in his and kissed it.
“Extra-crispy,” he replied dryly. Xander grinned and laughed,
“Yeah well, you don’t look half as appetizing as a bucket of original recipe,” Willow shot him a mildly offended look,
“Speak for yourself, Alexander Harris, I think he looks very yummy,” she turned back to her lover with a flirtatious look. Dusk gave her a disbelieving look,
“You’re a rotten liar, woman,” he replied sardonically, he tried to sit up but his strength gave out and he collapsed, nearly tumbling off the couch, until Xander and Willow caught him.
“Slow down there, chief, you’ve had a busy night,” Xander chided gently. Carefully he helped Willow ease the injured man back onto his stomach.
“Yeah,” Willow put in, “don’t make me kick your ass,” Dusk arched a sardonic eyebrow, “Well, don’t make me get Buffy to kick your ass,” she amended. Dusk snorted and coughed before relaxing against the couch.
“Are they all, all right? Dawn, Buffy, Joyce?” he asked worriedly.
“They’re fine,” Willow soothed, “a little grimy around the edges, but fine. I’ll have Buffy come pay you a visit as soon as she gets out of the shower. Spike strode into the room,
“Here he comes to save the day!” Spike sang out incredibly off-key and grinning, he plunked into a chair on the other side of the couch resting his hands on his knees. He leveled a finger at Dusk, “I used up my best whiskey in order to nuke the little buggers that had taken refuge in your worthless hide,” Dusk chuckled at that as Spike continued his tirade, “so you better be compensating me. If I’m anything even remotely resembling sober come new years due to a lack of quality booze, I’m coming for you,” Dusk groaned and folded his hands over his head,
“Honey, turn the noisy man into a newt, would you please?” he implored. Willow turned and, pointing a finger at Spike, began chanting in Pig Latin,
“Ix-nay asty-nay ampire-vay,” she cackled, Spike drew back alarmed,
“Knock it off red, I mean it,” he growled, and rose to leave, grumbling, “Sacrifice your best booze for a bloke and he sics his black-magic woman on you in gratitude. It bloody well figures,” chuckling, he left the room. Dusk shook his head and smirked,
“One-track mind that one, Sex or booze,” Dusk commented, dryly. Willow smiled, her lips curled in a lazy gesture of seduction,
“Oh yeah, and what’s on your mind?” Dusk turned to regard her, flabbergasted,
“You’re not serious!” he exclaimed, Willow just nodded,
“Xander, can you excuse us for a moment please?” she asked sweetly. Dusk’s eyes widened.
“Xander, if you ever held me as your friend, I implore you: do not leave me alone with her!” Dusk fervently begged Xander. Xander just chuckled and held his hands ramrod straight in front of him, Frankenstein style,
“Must. Obey. Witch. Cannot resist. Will not my own. Must obey,” he spoke tonelessly rising to his feet like an automaton, Willow cackled as her childhood friend lurched zombie-like away from the couple. She then turned to regard her helpless mate; slowly she licked her lips, savoring what was to come.
“But what about me having a busy night? And needing to get my strength back?” he protested meekly, though a slow grin was starting to creep across his face as he rolled gingerly over onto his back to regard the beautiful woman wryly, his healing factor diminishing the pain greatly. Demurely, she gently straddled his hips, and reaching into her pocket, removed a wrapped condom,
“Oh, I’d say your night’s about to get busier,” she whispered huskily. Dusk laughed in disbelief,
“Where in the world did you get tha-“ he was abruptly silenced as her mouth covered his.
A few moments later, he didn’t care anymore.
Buffy, toweling her hair dry, tentatively knocked on the door to the back room
“Dusk? Willow? Are you in there?”
No reply, she knocked again.
“Go ‘way,” came Dusk’s voice through the door, Buffy frowned,
“Guys? What’s going on?”
“Physical therapy. Very conducive to the healing process” Dusk replied. She heard Willow giggling quietly. A slow grin spread across Buffy’s features and she shook her head, laughing quietly. A stray memory, her mothers’ telepathic confession of exactly what had happened between her and Giles during that candy incident,
“He SO takes after his old man,” laughing to herself, she left the lovers to their “therapy.”
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