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Part Four
Giles treated the gash on Wesley’s forehead — it looked worse than it actually was, thank goodness, but from the tone in Wesley’s voice you would have thought he’d been mauled by a weretiger, not hit over the head with a baseball bat. As Giles disinfected the cut, Wesley recounted what had happened.
“Miss Chase and I had just reached her car, and as I was attempting to walk away I heard a voice say, ‘Well, well, well, who have we here?’ Miss Chase spun around trying to locate the source of the voice — as did I —”
“Let me guess. One, it was a woman’s voice, and two, you didn’t see anyone,” Buffy said.
“Correct, on both counts. First Miss Chase dropped to the ground — and then, as I tried to hold her up, I was struck between the eyes and knocked to the ground. By the time I recovered, Miss Chase’s car had already started, also with no one visible in the driver’s seat. It was all I could do to roll out of the way before I was run over.”
The group exchanged worried looks. Willow spoke first, saying, “But Marcie HATES Cordelia.”
“I was given to understand that Marcie Ross had been taken by men identifying themselves as belonging to the United States Government,” Wesley said. “Then how —”
A bit irritably, Xander said, “‘How’ can wait, Cowardly Lion. How do we find Cordy before Marcie gives her a sulfuric acid facial?” Almost unconsciously, he ripped up the sheet of paper in his hands and let the pieces flutter to the floor.
Oz had a thought. “I know. Willow, get your computer.”
Pulling out her laptop, Willow plugged in both power and modem lines and said, “What do you need?”
“Check the police reports over the last fifteen minutes. Look for cars without drivers.”
“Oooh!” Willow did some fast typing. A minute later, she reported, “Got two.”
“Only two?” Buffy asked. “God, this town’s getting blasé. Where were they?”
“They were both on their way up to the makeout place.”
“Okay, then. Look. If this is going to be the way they operate, I’d suggest we pair up from here on out.”
“That did not work to assist Miss Chase,” Wesley said, his face freshly bandaged.
“Yeah,” Xander sputtered, “but you have to remember who her backup was.”
“I resent that —” Wesley began.
Cutting him off, Xander spat out, “Good.”
“Anyway,” Buffy said, trying to suppress her irritation, “Oz — take Xander with you and swing by the mansion to pick up Angel. Drop him off on the way back here. Willow — you think you could keep an eye on Amy and Wesley and maybe try to pick up some more about what they’re all doing until they get back?” At the mention of her name, the rat raised her head and chittered indignantly again.
Willow muttered, “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” and then looked up. “But she’s right. I’m nowhere near a match for Catherine … or Drusilla, for that matter.”
Shaking her head, Buffy said, “Willow, did Amy just — never mind. You won’t be alone for long. Giles, could you come with me?”
Wryly, Giles said, “Oh. You’re seeking my approval? I had assumed that I was to just salute.”
“And let us not forget, Miss Summers, that it is I who is actually your Watcher. You should be seeking my approval and not that of Mr. Giles.” Then, noting the hostile stares directed towards him, Wesley added, “Not that I see any flaws in it myself …”
Not that Buffy really gave a good goddamn if the man approved, but there was always a slim chance he might have actually thought up a coherent objection. He’d bought a clue since coming to Sunnydale. Only one, though.
“Well, then, are we all clear?” Buffy took a second to examine her friends’ (and Wesley’s) faces. Xander was in his ‘I don’t know what to do, but I’ve GOT to do something’ mode, and that was why Buffy was sending him off with Oz. The musician was as calm as ever, and likely not to let Xander go charging off half-cocked into the night. Willow looked a little nervous, but not nearly as much as she would have two years ago. She was fine. Giles was exactly the same as he always was, Amy was alternating ratty irritation with abject terror, and Wesley, miracle of miracles, did not seem like he was on the verge of fainting, which Buffy supposed was the best they could hope for.
“Okay, then,” the Slayer said. “Ready … break!”
* * *
A knock on the door of the hotel suite. Ethan peered through the peephole and relaxed when he saw Ted, awkwardly propping up an unconscious Joyce Summers. Ethan flinched when he heard someone else pass by, but the robot covered nicely by saying, “One drink and BOOM! She’s out like a light. Oh, come on, don’t tell me it never happened to you …” It was a cliché as old as the movies, but clichés became so because they had some truth to them.
Or at least this one did, as the couple passed by without commenting. Then and only then did Ethan unlock the door to let in the future happy couple. “I don’t know how you plan to keep her safe from the vampires,” Ethan commented as Ted walked past him.
“What?” the robot said. “Not even a ‘nicely done’? That’s the problem with people these days — no sense of gratitude …” Ethan ignored the criticism; ever since his spell had reanimated Ted he’d heard a nice even mixture of “those were the good old days” and a hatred of women in general and the Summers females in particular. Annoying, yes, but the damned robot had served his purpose nicely. “Speaking of our noble bloodsuckers, where are they?” He looked around the room. “For that matter, where’s everyone?” He tossed Joyce Summers onto the bed, not being overly careful as to how she landed.
“Drusilla and Mr. Gorch are out grabbing a quick bite to eat and Ms Ross and Catherine the Great are going after their intended targets.”
“Are you sure you can trust the vampires? Poor Drusilla seems as crazy as a soup sandwich, and Lyle Gorch is the type who’d have trouble spelling CAT if you spotted him the C and the A.”
Ethan chuckled at the description, then answered, “Mr. Gorch is possessed of a keen cunning and an even keener sense of self-preservation. He should be no trouble. And as for Drusilla … well, if she goes off and makes a big scene, then all the better for us. Distraction is the name of the game tonight, dear boy, distraction.”
“Alright then. Have I done my part?” Ted paced a bit impatiently.
“Admirably,” Ethan answered
“Then,” he said, lifting Joyce Summers from where she lay sprawled on the bed, “I’d like to keep dear Joycey here outside of any immediate danger. So I’ve got another room at the hotel scoped out — here’s the room number, if you need me just give me a call.” Ethan took the piece of paper the robot handed him and watched Ted depart. He was being remarkably cooperative.
Of course, Ethan had never seen fit to mention that the reanimation spell only lasted 48 hours …
* * *
Faith walked into the mayor’s office — late at night, no harm no foul for the voters — and overheard the tail end of a conversation.
“… well, then, if you would kindly avoid that section of town for a while, I would be most appreciative. And thank you for the information.” Mayor Wilkins hung up the phone and looked towards the doorway. “Ah. Faith. Sorry about that, but ever since Mr. Trick’s unfortunate demise I have the devil’s own time persuading the vampires of this town to do anything I ask of them. And I mean that literally.”
“Here’s a nice juicy tidbit for you: we have a Drusilla sighting.”
The Mayor’s head shot up, displaying surprise and shock for a second; then his face got real calm again and he said. “Really. My.”
“Okay, now, what aren’t you telling me?” Faith was a bit annoyed.
“Quite a lot, actually, but that’s neither here nor there. Ever wonder where that phrase came from? It’s quite silly, you know —” He shook his head. “In any event, matters linguistic can wait until later. You see, the vampire I was just talking with informed me that he’d spotted Lyle Gorch, and earlier today I was told that Ethan Rayne had also been seen leaving a junkyard.”
“Hmmm. That’s a pretty damn big coincidence.”
“Watch the swearing, young lady, but otherwise I agree with you.” He seemed all mysterious, which usually in the Mayor’s case meant he was up to something. So his next words shocked the living hell out of Faith: “I wonder what they’re all up to …”
Okay, now Faith was confused. “No kiddin’? You didn’t bring them all to town yourself?”
“No, but I don’t like it. Why don’t you go try to find out what they’re all doing here?”
Nodding her head, Faith said, “Gotcha.”
As she turned to leave, Mayor Wilkins said, “And … let’s be careful out there.”