"Because I'm the only thing holding Ripper back. He wasn't going to kill her right there on the front lawn, he had a plan. He was going to give her to a lesser fiend from a hell dimension to take away and dispose of out of Glory's reach, just in case killing her here released the Key in a way Glory could use. I found his notes. He's doing magic, Slayer, black, dark magic that would condemn a mortal sorcerer's soul, and he's making arrangements with devils."

"He was going to ..."

"He is possibly the most practical, ruthless creature I've ever met. Probably the best Watcher to ever come along, though you'd never get the Council of wankers to admit to that."

Buffy barely heard. "Black magic."

"Don't get much darker than summoning fiends and offering deals. Well, there's the sacrifice of a sentient creature, but I don't think he'd rule it out if he thought it was the way to go."

"Giles isn't like that--" She broke off, eyes horrified as the reality sank in. "But Giles is dead."

Spike cursed the indoor smoking rules and the bouncer who would stop him lighting up, the human bouncer he couldn't fight. Vampires as a rule didn't hang out with the families of their victims, this kind of thing was what Angel should be sitting through, he was all redemption boy these days. Spike wanted to take Buffy's hand, comfort her, try to ease her pain. And the demon alternately howled in disgust at his weakness and chortled at the Slayer's grief.

Buffy stiffened her spine. "So, I've got a dark wizard vampire out there who is trying to kill my sister. Battle plan looks obvious to me." And the cost of that battle plan was equally obvious--if she killed what was left of her Watcher, Spike didn't put good odds on what that would do to her mind.

When a vampire sighed, you knew he meant it, since he had to work for it. "You can't stake him either, pet."

It was still the Slayer looking at him, not the girl. "Why not?"

"It was a bad plan, but it was a workable plan. If we're going to stop Glory, we're going to need the Watcher's brain, and that's still all there."

She sagged, resolve drained away. "I know," she whispered. "Everyone was kind of hoping he was off working on some super secret weapon or something, and he'd show up at the last minute to save the day. But he's not. He's just gone, and we're all that's left."

This time he did take her hand. "Buffy, he may be gone, but he's still working. The vampire Ripper"--Spike paused, wondering what Ann Rice would make of that as a title-- "has as little intention of letting Glory drop us all into hell as Rupert Giles the Watcher did. That's why we need to talk. We've got to come up with a plan that works, something that keeps Ripper from casting any more black mojo and keeps you from..."

"Keeps me from what?" She debated pulling her hand away, but left it be and didn't ask why.

"Burning yourself out trying to carry all your heavy loads by yourself."

"You're a weird vampire, Spike."

He raised his scarred eyebrow at her. "And you're just working this out now? No wonder they give the Slayers Watchers."

She did pull her hand away, so she could cover her eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't seem to have one anymore, do I?"

"Don't see him, if you'd rather not. I can do the go-between thing."

"No ... no, I think I'm going to have to. So I can make my gut believe ..."

"It's going to be a couple of days before he's up to sociability."

"Willow and the others said it was a nasty fight." She didn't sound upset, more like a fellow professional asking about something work-related.

"Yeah, it was, and it was due. He may have the brains and the magic on me, but I've still got the age and experience on him. I'm not his Sire, so I've got to be a bit more hands-on in teaching him respect. And I'll do it every time he forgets."

"Until he beats you."

Spike grinned. "If he beats me, it'll be because he's finally better than me. But that'll be a bit, yet."

"You must really love having someone around you can beat up that won't trigger the chip." She was studying the last ice cubes in her whiskey glass and didn't see the look and fleeting smile on his face.

"Oh, yeah, it's not bad. And don't think he doesn't enjoy finally being able to get some good licks in on me."

Something lewd in his tone made Buffy look at him suspiciously, but she shook her head. She let her mind go blank for several moments, letting all her grief and confusion drift away. Then she pulled the Slayer back over her mind. "Call me when he's better. We've got Glory to settle before anything else."

He took her hand before she could stop him and raised it to her lips. "Universe has got a grudge against you, love. Everything else can wait till we've got Glory settled and your Mum on her way back."

She only let herself enjoy the comfort for a moment, then pulled away. "Later." She blinked as he stood when she did.

"Later, Slayer."

Spike watched her walk away, and he saw her nod at a couch near the stage. He hadn't even seen Red and Harris when he'd come in, too focused on the Slayer, but she'd brought back up. Smart girl.

Red looked nearly as grief stricken as Buffy, but Harris only had eyes for Spike, dark, angry, hating eyes. Spike stared back, telling his demon that there was work still to do but, yes, there were certain names that were high on the list of People who Needed to Find Out The Chip Didn't Work Anymore. Harris didn't back down, only breaking the gaze when Willow nudged him. and he didn't look back as he escorted the witch out after Buffy.

Connie, you write a WONDERFUL Xander. Sooooo nice. V!Giles is creeping me out in this scene, being so similar to human!Giles but with the demon right under the surface. And Spike is just so...Spike.

Some stuff:

After a moment, the young man put his arms around Buffy...

"Though he is good," the red head mused further.

the blond vampire said quietly.

Descriptors like "the blond vampire" are much more jarring than simply using the character's name.

He remembered the night before, when Spike had appeared in his bedroom and Giles hadn't thrown him out. The partnership had its perks.

Mmmmmmm. Our little non-slash-writing Connie... ;)

"Well, I must admit, the responsibilities can be daunting, but we have a sworn duty to protect the world ..." He trailed off as he contemplated the inherent illogic of that statement coming from the mouth of a vampire.

Spike looked up at the night sky. "Oi, if you're readyin' a lightning bolt up there, it was him what said it!"

I just LOVE that exchange! Both for the tinge of pathos to V!Giles, and the Spikean humor.

"Cordelia mentioned there used to be a bridal path through here,

Should be "bridLE path."

Connie, this is amazing work. Love it.

As for me . . . I spent the whole weekend struggling with my current project, feeling very frustrated. Today at work there's absolutely nothing to do, and I had a bit of breakthrough on it. Although I may be hallucinating. But I THINK I'm not.

Bloody spellchecker.

I bow to thee, my Teppy. But how do you resolve not using people's names over and over?

But how do you resolve not using people's names over and over?

It's better to just use them. They're transparent. They don't even register. I know someone, somewhere, has a link to fanfic-writing tips -- NOT that you need them, but it mentions the name issue, and explains it better than I can.

They're transparent.

I've seen that explained, but it's never transparent to me. But that just might be my foible. Ah, pronouns

Buffy looked back and forth at the two of them. There were sub-texty things going on, things that made her think of stuff she'd read in the books about how vampires related to each other. The two--the two vampires looked at each other the way two people who knew each other pretty darned well would look.

Heh

Buffy glared at her friend. "Can we save the thirst for knowledge thing for later, Will?"

suh-NERK!

Xander had the disturbed expression of someone who sees the absolute logic of a proposition and hates himself for it.

Giles should talk to Xander about killing Ben… In the show, I mean. Because Xander would understand.

Xander blinked at Giles with a surprised, flattered look on his face, but he turned away before Giles could ask what he was thinking. He heard the young man's quiet mutter, though: "And it takes being the evil undead to let me know these things?"

True. True. And, also, True.

All Xander's male companions and role models disappointed him in one way or another. Though all men learned that eventually.

Sob.

"I liked the idea of him as a vamp, pet. I'm evil, remember?"

Yum-ME!

"Oh, yeah, it's not bad. And don't think he doesn't enjoy finally being able to get some good licks in on me."

Heh heh. It's funny because it's a double entendre, as it were.

And Teppy's right, the names of the characters, or just the pronouns, do become transparent. Macedon wrote a good fanfic guide. I'll see if I can track it down.

I like it,Connie. And it also makes me sad, but it's an angsty story so you're doing your job.

Connie rocks. Skipping ahead, because Lizard has inspired me to kickstart my Pornathology story again. This is at the beginning when Simon first meets Catherine:

Simon measured her, knew her with a raking appraisal. He listened to Catherine talk; he nodded and flirted and prodded, taking in everything that laced her conversation while letting the words themselves sluice through. He took in her arrogant little self assurances, the neurotic loops worn through her patina of charm, the caustic flashes of wit - often self-deprecating, the sophisticated nuance gliding between contraries, the rapturous sensitivity, the vulnerability and open emotion barely bridled. The bottom note, though, the thing that welled and threatened her wary equilibrium, the reason she was there, her fearsome truth, was pain. And worse, responsbility.

It was not a cold dissection. Simon braced himself as he threaded through each little tell. He felt a shrill panic rise in his chest as he felt the enormity of what he was going to do. He expected it though, the panic, he knew it, and ducked his head down momentarily as he talked, pinched the bridge of his nose, then came back up to meet her eyes, smiling. He read her like a thief going over a bank's blueprints. He was going to steal from her the thing she feared. And let it live within himself.