*AUTHOR'S NOTE* There is a mentioning of a prophecy in this chapter. It sounds kinda like Angel's prophecy, but it's not. Just wanted to clear that up.
Chapter 3: Expecting the Unexpected
“E-excuse me?” Buffy asked weakly.
“Your pregnancy test came back positive Ms. Summers…” The doctor repeated.
“But that’s impossible! My boyfriend was a…well he was…um…unfertile!”
The doctor gave Buffy a strange look and glanced down at her chart. “I can run a second test if you like, but they are very accurate. Are you *sure* your boyfriend was infertile?”
Buffy looked up at Giles imploringly. He had a look of realization on his face.
“Can we please have a moment alone,” Giles glanced at the doctor’s nametag, “Ms. Rice?”
“Sure, I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” The doctor smiled and left the room.
But Giles only needed to say two words to her: “The Amulet.”
* * *
L.A., the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel...
Gunn sighed as he closed the large tome he was looking through. “I can’t find any reference to a bunch of evil stuffy old men sitting around tables.”
Angel sighed and closed his book as well.
“I know. I figured it was worth a shot… not a very big one, mind you.” He leaned back in his chair with a frown. “This vision really bothered Cordy…she said she could feel it in her bones. We need some info on these guys, who…or whatever they are.”
“I hear ya man, we just ain’t getting’ the 411 from any of these books. Looks like we need to go to an outside source.” Gunn said.
Angel nodded in agreement, stood and put his coat on. “You coming with?”
“Nah. Its all you man.”
“You know, it’s not good that you two avoid each other. I’m sure he doesn’t still blame you for… inadvertently blowing up his bar.” Angel said lamely.
“Its not that.” Gunn said as he followed Angel out of the office.
“Well then what’s the problem?” Angel furrowed his brows.
“I just don’t want to hear you sing, man.” Gunn slapped him on the back, and the two parted ways, Gunn out the front door, and Angel down to the lounge, where Lorne was renovating his new Karaoke bar.
* * *
Sunnydale, Buffy's now overcrowded hospital room...
“Oh my God, this is so cool!” Dawn could hardly contain her excitement.
“Wow…I mean…wow.” Willow was at a loss for words, obviously.
“I second that Wow and raise you a Holy Cow.” Xander said.
“P-pregnant…that’s just….wow.” Tara said, also at a loss for words.
“I know! Isn’t it awesome?!” Dawn was practically bouncing up and down.
“Believe me guys, I’m having the same reaction.” Buffy said, ignoring her sister’s enthusiasm.
Just then Giles walked back into Buffy’s room with the giant Vampyr book and the Codex.
“The Codex Giles?” Buffy raised her eyebrows.
“This can’t be just a coincidence Buffy, you know that. We must research all avenues…and explore all possibilities.” He said flipping through the Vampyr book, already engrossed in scouring the tome for information.
“We’re in a *hospital* Giles…don’t you think the nurses will get a little suspicious when they see you reading Vamps-R-us?” Dawn said.
“Nah, this is Sunnydale Dawnster. Willow restored Angel’s soul from her hospital bed…right over there.” Xander pointed across the way, “Boy is it good to reminisce.” He added sarcastically.
“Xander!” Willow whispered and discretely kicked him in the shin.
“What? What did I do now?” He whispered back exasperated.
“Now isn’t the time to talk about the Angel thing.” She whispered back.
“I can hear you, you know. It’s okay Wills. I’m not that much of an emotional wreck.” Buffy spoke up.
“Oh…sorry Buffster. I guess I wasn’t thinking.” Xander said uncomfortably.
“Guys, I’m okay. Just because I’ve been a little…out of it….just because…I’ve been a bit…emotional…” She gulped, holding back tears, “…because Spike is …gone …and now….now I’m pregnant…and I’m all alone…and he’s gone…” Buffy completely burst into tears, and everyone rushed to comfort her.
* * *
L.A., the lounge of the Hyperion hotel...
“That’s good Lenny, just set it over there.” Lorne pointed out to the construction worker carrying a large table.
Angel entered the lounge and walked up to Lorne.
“Hey, how’s the renovation coming along?” Angel asked, looking around the place. Various chairs and tables were piled everywhere, and there was a group of men (or rather, demons) hanging a large shiny blue curtain behind the stage.
“It’s going great.” Lorne said enthusiastically, “I just ordered the new karaoke machine. It should be here in the next couple of days. But hey, what do you think?” Lorne pointed behind the bar, where a large mirror hung, a neon sign and wooden shelves stocked with various bottles of liquor.
“It’s great. You gonna call this place ‘Caritas’ as well?” Angel asked, spotting the neon ‘Caritas’ sign.
“Yeah! Tradition and all that. Besides, it makes me feel more at home.” Lorne glanced around the lounge, and then turned to Angel, seriousness etched on his face. “ I know I’ve been in a bit of a rut lately, and I hope this will get me back on my feet,” Lorne gestured to the lounge, “Thank you, for this. It means a lot to me.”
“No problem. I wasn’t doing anything with it anyway. Besides, it’ll liven the place up a bit.” Angel grinned and shrugged.
“Oh yeah. Barring it doesn’t get trashed by demon fights and Gunn’s friends shooting it up.”
“You still holding that grudge?”
“Not really…just basking in the guilt trip.” Lorne smirked at him. “But you didn’t come down here to talk to me about my club, am I right?” Lorne added with a knowing smile.
Angel nodded worriedly. “Cordy had a vision.”
* * *
Across the Ocean, Watcher's Headquarters, Quentin Travers' personal
office...
“Sir, all of our linguists are working on translating the Prophecy…it’s just that it’s so vague. It could take years to figure out what it means.” An older Watcher with white balding hair and thick prescription glasses reported.
“We don’t have that much time, Professor Broody. We need to know exactly how William the Bloody’s presence in Ms. Summer’s life will effect the fate of the world.” Quentin replied moodily.
“The Ahmshe’ir prophecies are encrypted magically, textually and intellectually. The only way that we are aware of to fully transcribe them…would be to bring back the prophet that wrote them, an ex-Watcher by the name of Nigel Hawthorne. He’s been deceased for nearly a century now. He put some kind of encryption on it… It’s almost like we are missing the key to unlock it.” Professor Broody muttered.
“Tell me what you *do* know.” Quentin sighed.
“We know that the prophecy states that the presence of the ‘Vampire with a heart’ to the Slayer will change the future of Slayers for all time, and eventually bring about the last apocalypse. We still don’t know what exactly that means. We have plenty of theories...for example, it could mean that the Vampire would turn Ms. Summers, making her an eternal hybrid of a Slayer and a demon; with twice the strength of a Slayer and a frightful hunger for destruction and death…bringing about the final apocalypse, ending the world as we know it. There would be nothing to stop it, no Slayers.”
“But the line would continue through Faith, the other Slayer.” Quentin said.
“True…but isn’t she….well, er, off balance?” Professor Broody said.
“Yes, and currently incarcerated. But if worse comes to worse…we can take care of that little problem.” Quentin said.
“Like I said, Sir, these are just theories. We still have no idea if the presence of the Vampire to the Slayer was good or bad.”
“Take my word for it Professor…whenever a Vampire is involved….it’s always bad.”
* * *
L.A., the Lounge at the Hyperion Hotel...
“What do you mean you can’t tell me anything?” Angel asked incredulously after he suffered through what he (and several of the construction workers) perceived to be torture.
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter how many times you sing. The Powers that Be aren’t giving me anything.” Lorne shrugged helplessly.
“Nothing?!”
“Not a peep. I don’t know why. Maybe they don’t want you involved in this one.” Lorne suggested.
“But that doesn’t make any sense…why did Cordy get the vision?”
“Beats me.” Lorne shrugged. “Maybe it’s something for her to deal with, not you. Or it’s just not the right time to deal with it.”
“Well that can’t be good news.” Angel muttered.
“Hey, it’s not all about you sweetie. Well, I mean, yeah, you’re the Champion and all….and Cordelia is your link to the PTB…okay, I’m really not consoling you any, am I?”
“Angel?” Fred called out as she rounded the corner into the lounge. “Wow…Lorne, this is looking really nice.” She smiled at him.
“Thanks doll.” Lorne smiled enthusiastically.
“Angel, it’s time for you to pick up Connor from his first day at School.” Fred told him.
“Oh! I almost forgot. Thanks Fred. I’ll be back in a little while.” Angel said as he left.
“Oh look, you have a little neon “Caritas” sign above the bar.” Fred pointed, smiling.
* * *
Watcher's Headquarters, Spike's cell...
The metal door clanked open, and Quentin Travers walked into Spike’s cell, closing and locking the iron door behind him. “Mr. Spike, feeling any better today?” Quentin asked conversationally.
“Phht. You care piss-all how I’m feeling, you prick.” Spike shot back.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” The Watcher pulled over a chair and sat in front of Spike. “Interesting little song you’ve been singing. Several of us are taking bets, as to weather your going crazy… or it has something to do with the Slayer.” Quentin smirked at Spike’s knee-jerk reaction to the mentioning of the Slayer. “My money is on the Slayer. Of course, I’m having some associates look into it. Anything you care to tell me?”
“Yeah. Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelled of Elderberries!” Spike mimicked the Frenchman from Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail.
Quentin lost his temper and punched Spike in the jaw, but Spike only laughed manically. Quentin regained his control and pulled out a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and methodically wiped Spike’s blood from his hand.
“You know Mr. Spike…If an Angel has a dream of death, destruction and chaos, the Angel considers it a nightmare. If a Demon has a dream of life, happiness and harmony… the Demon considers this a nightmare as well. You see it is all about perspective. You are a demon…there for any association you have with Ms. Summers, will never end good.”
When he looked back down at Spike, he saw a burning hate in the Vampire’s eyes he had never seen before.
“You know nothing about me or Buffy. True Evil it’s self couldn’t turn me against her, you bastard.” Spike said vehemently, “So give me your best shot.”
“Oh, I believe I can arrange that.” Quentin said, with a ghost of a smile.
* * *
Sunnydale, the Magic Box...
It was a busy day at the Magic Box for the Scooby Gang. Anya was the only one not researching the Amulet of Bytanor. Willow, Tara, Buffy, Xander and Jonathan were all sitting at the round table, various books set before them, Dawn was on the stairs leading to the restricted book section, and Giles was pacing around with a rather large tome in his hands, while he attempted to stock the shelves at the same time. Anya was helping a nice looking couple near the front of the store buy something.
Actually, Giles, Willow and Tara were the only ones really researching. Buffy was pretending to read her book while doodling in her notebook hidden inside the tome, Dawn was doing her homework and Xander was just looking at the pictures. Jonathan, however…
“Dawn, I have a philosophical question for you.” Jonathan whispered as he stood next to her, mindful of the customers being able to hear him.
“Yeah?” Dawn put down her pencil.
“I’ve been thinking about this…and I can’t come up with an answer. If you staked a vampire…with a piece of petrified wood… would it kill the vampire?”
Dawn just raised her eyebrows at him in confusion
“Because you know, technically it’s a piece of wood, but scientifically, it’s a rock.”
“You know, that’s a really good question…” Dawn said, clearly unprepared to answer it. She glanced around helplessly and saw Buffy sitting at the table doodling in her journal looking bored. “…for Buffy. Why don’t you go ask her?”
“Oh! Good idea! Why wouldn’t a Slayer know about this stuff, right? Thanks!” Jonathan hurried over to Buffy. Dawn just returned to her homework, relieved that she was able to pawn Jonathan off to someone else.
* * *
“…So what do you think?” Jonathan asked the Slayer.
Buffy was giving him a look that clearly said ‘you have *got* to be kidding’.
“I mean, I’ve measured the scientific aspects and I just can’t come up with the answer.”
“Well…I’m not sure. I’ve never had a petrified stake… per say.” Buffy said. She saw Giles walk by, completely engrossed in his book. “Ooh! You know, why don’t you ask Giles? I’m sure he knows all about this kind of stuff.” Buffy said a little too enthusiastically.
“Really?”
“Yeah! I mean he’s a Watcher! He should know these… strange facts.”
“Okay. Thanks Buffy!” Jonathan said as he got up and walked to Giles. Buffy just shook her head at the boy.
“Giles, I have a question for you…” Jonathan said as he walked up to the watcher. “If you staked a vampire with a piece of petrified wood…”
Giles gave the boy a dumbstruck look.
* * *
L.A., the Hyperion Hotel lobby...
“What do you think I should do? I mean, the message came through loud and clear…but Angel can’t find any information about it.” Cordelia ranted as she paced the length of the room, “It just bugs me, you know? I mean, the PTB have been vague before…but this! This is almost worse! They gave me all the information…and we can’t match it to anything!” Cordelia ranted to Fred.
“Well…” Fred tried to think of something to comfort her.
“I’m totally at a loss here,” Cordelia continued, “It’s just so frustrating! I *know* that the message is important…and I know I know that voice… I just can’t place it. It sounds so familiar.”
“That’s because it was Quentin Travers.” Wesley’s voice startled them. He stood near the darkened entrance, wearing all black.
“Wes…” Cordelia said in shock.
“I know I’m not welcome here…but I may have some information that is useful.” Wesley said.
“How did you know…?” Cordelia asked. Just then Gunn walked through the entrance and stood next to Wes.
“Oh.” Cordelia said, “Ohh…! Angel is *so* gonna kill you.” She said to Gunn, half jokingly, half not.
* * *
Spike walked through the streets of Sunnydale, grateful for the amulet of Bytanor that protected him from the harsh sunlight. He walked into the Magic Box, the bell above the door jingled merrily as he closed the door behind him. He saw Anya behind the cash register, Willow, Tara and Xander at the table, and Giles standing at a bookshelf replacing books with his back turned to him.
“Welcome to the Magic Box…” He called out before he turned, “Can I help….SPIKE!” Giles dropped his books in surprise. Willow, Tara and Xander gasped.
“Rupert.” Spike nodded in greeting to the Watcher, “Where’s Buffy?”
“Stay back! What do you want with her?” Giles demanded as he pulled a stake out of the inside pocket of his blazer.
“Careful Giles, he’s still dangerous.” Xander warned.
“What the bloody hell has gotten into you all? Been smoking some of Red’s magic weed?”
“Giles, what’s going…..SPIKE.” Buffy came out of the back training room and immediately glared at Spike. “What the hell are you doing back in Sunnydale?” Buffy demanded angrily.
“Is this some sort of bloody joke? Where’s the bleedin camera hidden, because I’m telling you, this isn’t funny.” Spike said, starting to get annoyed.
“Boy, your even weirder than I remember. What’s the matter Spike, Drucilla rubbing off on you?” Xander glared at him.
“What the bloody hell are you talking about? I haven’t seen Dru in years! She left me for a Chaos demon.”
“Wow, I guess she’s smarter than she looks.” Buffy said.
“What the hell has gotten into all of you? Has Dawn cast another spell? NIBBLET! This isn’t funny!!”
“Uh, Spike? Who is Don? Is he some kind of demon friend of yours?” Buffy said.
“Dawn, is your kid sister!”
“Sister?” Buffy started laughing hysterically. “Boy you really *did* go off the deep end! I don’t have a sister.”
“Oh Bloody hell! DAWN!! You are *so* dead young lady!!” Spike shouted as he stomped toward the training room, but Buffy suddenly grabbed him and tossed him hard against the front door, breaking the glass. She drew out a stake.
“You aren’t going to kill anyone Spike! Not while I’m…” Buffy stopped short, mouth agape.
“Dear Lord.” Giles gaped as well. Spike was lying in a patch of sunlight, and he wasn’t burning up.
“How?” Buffy asked, glaring at him. Her eyes did a quick scan of his body, and saw the Amulet of Bytanor around his neck. “The Amulet! You have it! What have you done to Angel!?” Buffy yelled, raising her stake for the ready.
“What?! You gave it to me, all of you! But of course, you obviously don’t remember. Balls!” Spike roared in frustration, throwing a piece of broken doorframe haphazardly away.
“I gave that to Angel! What have you done to him?!” Buffy demanded.
“I didn’t do a damn thing to Peaches! Red and Glenda gave it to me as a ‘welcome to the gang’ present.” Spike muttered, standing up.
“YOU? A member of the gang? Oh that’s funny!” Xander cracked up laughing.
“I think you need a head exam Spike. You could *never* be a part of our group.” Buffy said cruelly.
“Don’t say that.” Spike said, honestly hurt.
“You are an evil, soulless, disgusting Vampire. Demons don’t change.” Buffy continued.
“They do, and I have. I love you!”
Suddenly everyone in the room was laughing cruelly.
“You can’t love. You have no soul!” Buffy slowly walked toward him, Stake poised, “You disgust me! I would never touch you Spike! You. Are. Beneath. Me.” Buffy spit out at him, the point of her stake now resting on his chest directly over his heart.
“Buffy, love, please. You have to remember! Please! I live at your house, with you and Dawn! You all threw a party to welcome me to the gang! We both sang at Kermit’s club! We stopped Doc from opening the Hell mouth and finally killed him! We all got drunk and the next morning Dawn and Connor played a trick on us to make us think that Angel was evil again!” Spike was talking rapidly now, frantic for them to remember, “And remember all the nights we stayed up watching Moulin Rouge with Dawn, and you convincing me to buy different color shirts…and I read poetry to you every night! You *have* to remember!! Please!!”
“You’re insane! That never happened!” Buffy glared at him, hate burning in her eyes.
“NO!!! This isn’t happening! This can’t be happening!” Spike clutched his hair in his hands, on the edge of sanity. “No, no, no, no, no!!! I’m one of you!! I’m one of you!! Please remember! Please!!”
“Ashes to Ashes.” Buffy said cruelly as she raised her stake. Spike didn’t even flinch. In one swift move, she plunged it into his heart. “They all fall down.”
“BUUUFFFFFYYYYYYYY!!!!” Spike cried out in pain and torment as he awoke from the nightmare. He scrambled off the cot and flung himself into the far corner, as if to run away from the images in his head. There he cowered and cried, the pain and torment from the nightmare still fresh in his mind.
On the other side of the one-way mirror, Quentin Travers was smiling cruelly.
* * *
Sunnydale, the Magic Box...
Dawn was sitting in the upstairs loft, searching for the books that Giles asked her to grab. She had a small stack of reasonably thin books set off to the side, but she was having a difficult time finding the last book: “Magical wards and talismans”. As she shuffled through the large tomes, a small leather-bound book toppled off the top of a stack on a top shelf, hitting her on the head.
“Oww!!” Dawn rubbed her head and picked up the open book and flipped through it. All the pages were blank.
“Giles! What’s with the blank book?” Dawn called down to him.
“What does it look like?” He called back.
“Brown. Leather. Blank.” Dawn said. She heard him sigh.
“It’s probably just an empty journal. Did you find the books?” Giles asked.
“Yeah, I just need to find one more. Can I have the journal?”
“I don’t see why not.” Giles replied.
Dawn gave a little squeal of triumph. She then spotted the last book Giles wanted, pulled it off the shelf, grabbed the whole stack and took them down to the already too crowded table. She then put the leather bound Journal in her backpack.
* * *
L.A., the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel...
“The Council! Of course!” Cordelia slapped her forehead in realization.
“Which begs the question ‘why’?” Gunn asked.
“From my understanding, the Council wouldn’t be very happy if they found out about Buffy and Spike’s relationship. I believe he is the Vampire they were speaking of." Wesley said.
“But that was over two weeks ago... it could have already happened!” Cordelia said.
“Most likely.” Wes nodded.
“Oh God…Angel said that he hasn’t heard from Spike for a long time.” She immediately got up and picked up the phone to dial.
“Cordelia stop.” Lorne called out as he walked into the room. “You can’t do that.”
“What? Why?” Cordelia asked confused.
“I just got a killer of a message, express delivery from the PTB. If you make that phone call, things will only get worse.” Lorne explained as he took the phone from her and set it back on the cradle.
“What do you mean?” Cordelia asked.
“In your vision, you said that they said: ‘If the Slayer found out, it would mean war’.” Lorne quoted, “They’re spot on. If Buffy finds out about this now, all Hell will break loose, and Spike will *really* get killed…along with everyone in this room, and Buffy and her gang.”
“What do you mean Spike will ‘really’ get killed?” Fred asked.
“This guy…Quentin? He set it up so that Buffy and the gang thought he was killed. But he’s not. He’s being held at the Watcher’s headquarters. They’ve drugged him and kept him in a cell. They’re trying to drive him crazy.”
Everyone gasped.
“Why would they do such a thing?” Fred asked.
“Well here’s the kicker, they found a prophecy about him and Buffy…but they can’t read it completely. Something is missing. What they have deciphered is vague at best, but it tells that Spike has something to do with the future of Slayers, and is a major player in the ‘last apocalypse’.”
“I hate it when Angel is right.” Cordelia muttered.
“For now, Spike is safe. For now, we wait.” Lorne said.
“For now Wes better get out of here,” Gunn said, “Angel just pulled in.”
Wes grimaced and nodded, heading for the front door.
“We’ll keep you posted.” Cordelia called out to him as he left. Just as soon as Wesley was out of sight, Angel and Connor came out from the underground garage entry, and into the main Lobby.
“Hey guys! What’s up?” Angel asked, seeing the entire gang standing around looking at each other.
“Nothing!” Cordelia said innocently, “We all just got together to…meet Connor home after his first day at school!” She smiled brightly at Connor. The rest of the gang quickly piped up in agreement.
“Well great!” Angel grinned, oblivious to the gang’s nervous glances at each other.
“So! How was your fist day?” Cordelia asked Connor.
“Weird. It was just like Dawn said it would be…” Connor said.
* * *
Sunnydale, Summer's residence...
Dawn sat on her bed, shoving her homework books back in her bag. She was finally done with her history report on the Salem Witch trials. Her history class teacher allowed the students to choose a topic in American history to do a report on, so Dawn had chosen something to do with magic. Buffy wasn’t happy about it, but she couldn’t argue the fact that it was for homework, not play. Of course Dawn had conveniently forgotten to tell her sister that she *chose* the assignment.
Rooting around in her backpack for room to shove in the last book, Dawn came across the leather bound journal and took it out. Across the front she saw the initials ‘N.H.’ stamped into the leather.
“Huh. Didn’t notice that before.” Dawn said to herself.
Putting the last book in her backpack and tossing it to the
floor, Dawn grabbed a pen and flipped the book open to the first blank page.
"Dear Diary,
This is my first entry. It’s been so long since I kept a journal. Spike would have liked it, it’s just like the ‘secret’ one he has. As if hiding it between the mattress pads isn’t the first place everyone looks. Anyway, that’s where he keeps his ‘secret’ journal of poetry he writes about Buffy.”
Dawn wrote quickly across the page. When she stopped to think of a
new subject, she was shocked to see the black ink sink right into the pages.
“Hu?”
The page seemed to blur and then stiffen, then suddenly words
began appearing as if an invisible hand started writing them.
“Hello. How long it has been since someone has written to me. I am really quite pleased. May I ask your name?”
Dawn blinked in confusion at the magically created words. She was
hesitant about writing anything, especially in an enchanted book, but she
figured no harm could come from it. Besides, who ever heard of an evil magic
book that wrote politely?
“Dawn Summers. Who are you?” She wrote.
“Ah, Ms. Summers, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Nigel Hawthorne.”