|
A Wooded Future by Part Sixteen
Buffy was frustrated beyond belief.
Willie was pinned, face against the door of his own bar just as he finished with the last of the screws in the new sign. “What’s with the sign Willie? ‘This Friday’s Fairy night – two for one prices before eleven’?” Buffy snorted, “You looking for the gay demon community now… didn’t realize demons needed to come out of the closet?!… Does the Hellmouth even have a closet?... [she shoved him as he made to move] What’s next Willie – Stripping slime demons… cause gotta say business’ll boom!” She sniggered at her own jokes but as Willie went to correct her assumption he was slammed face first into the door even harder and held, his cheek and nose painfully squashed and breathing difficult. “Anyway… Just need a little information Mister. Which.” Slam. “Tree.” Slam. “Is the” Slam. “Demon tree!?” The muffled reply came immediately, “Oh Gahh Slayer!? S’not… anyway… Why would I knahh... I don’t know … I don’t know!!… Please?! ‘S just a tree and I think my nose is brrrrphhh…” Buffy slammed his face against the door again, this time hard enough to hear a very real crack and to see blood begin to flow in rivulets down centre of the new sign from a very definitely broken nose. “Is now.” She felt the man slump and finally spun him to face her, this time pressing his back painfully against one of the still protruding screws. “Do I need to ask again? Or would you like that nose pushed back into place the other way.” She raised her fist ready, but Willie had his eyes tight shut and was coughing as blood ran down the back of his throat. “Ghhhhaaa Slayyyy…” he spluttered, then coughed, “I…”, and coughed again as tears of pain tracked down from already swelling eyes. Buffy released him enough that he could lean forward a little and at least let the blood flow from his nose onto the ground so he could speak as best he was now able, whilst spitting coppery flavoured blood and saliva onto the ground. “Don... Doe. Pleee Slayew… I… Don… Doe. Pleeee?!” Buffy seemed satisfied, and released the bar owner to slump onto the ground, “Well, I guess I’ll just go find out some other way…” She spun on her heels, quipping over her shoulder as she departed, “Hope you’ve ordered enough disco balls and cocktail umbrellas for Friday.”
Willie struggled inside, his apron now awash with blood in an effort not to soil the freshly washed floor. He put his head over the sink and reached for the ice bin/specially designed freezer, below the bar. A cool hand stopped his and another pushed a towel already obviously containing ice, very gently against his abused nose. Spike heard the man’s heart begin to race again as he looked up expecting some new form of abuse. Instead Willie saw one blue faerie and one fae vampire – the latter close to emerald green in the dimly lit and empty bar. Neither was threatening – in fact Spike had a definite look of concern. “You’re a right piece o’ work aren’t ya!? Make out you’re all a neat pushover when it suits but really hard as a bloody coffin nail.” Willie looked utterly confused, “Why…?” “Came ta thank you for lettin’ us have the shindig this Friday… and promise the business as it were… Some idea of numbers an’ all that – boy only turns one once, an it’s right nice of ya. An’ her ladyship… Well she’s quite the piece… always has been…” Willie snorted as best he was able then began to cough violently again and finally threw up most of the blood he had inadvertently swallowed since the Slayer rearranged his face. Unfortunately half went over the stand of fortunately sealed beef jerky’s and the spluttered around and into the sink. As soon as the convulsion finished, Spike caught him on the way down, and sat him on the floor between the fae vampire’s own green legs, while Harry snagged another hand towel from the side rail and flew it down. “Lemme have a look at this Pet.” Spike gingerly touched the abused nose, determined the problem, then gave only a moment’s warning before snapping the cartilage back into the right position. Willie cried out, then passed out in quick succession. He came to some time later, his nose taped hard and quite professionally, and was aware that a cold pack was being gently applied. He recognized the galley way of his own bar, felt the stool cushion from his own chair near the phone, and wondered at the leaf covered wrist attached to the hand with the compress. “OK now, Pet? Gonna sit you up real slow like…” The words matched the deed and though Willie still felt rather light headed, it did feel better. He’d been through worse, but never would have expected a vampire … especially Spike! … to be one to help. His rather swollen eyes fixed on the fae vamp, “Why??...” “Protected her… and everyone with our trees is what you did… Reckon we owe ya…” “But I could have… And you??... You’re…” “Yeah… One o’ them mate, more so now as ever… And you coulda told her a whole lot o’ bits ‘n pieces, and she would have been down there with chain saw and mulching truck cuttin’ everything! Did a good thing… and Friday too… Never figured you to bloody advertise though! You ready for the rush??... Anyway… reckon you can stand?” They helped him up to sit on one of his own bar stools, tidied up a little (something neither Spike nor Harry would ever talk about again) then left the bar owner to begin his night. Willie was still hurt and reeling as his patrons entered, and expected a backlash regards the fairy night, but surprisingly received none. Late in the night he approached a table of particularly violent Kreptath and another of young local vampires, in order to simply “find out true patron opinion” regards the change in 'Willie’s policy' but neither groups even batted an eyelid (which in the Kreptath’s case included three each!) As Willie approached another vampire table to clean off glasses and refresh drinks, one of the five fledges leaned over, and through fang filled mouth, over too loud Dixie Chicks yelled, “Fantastic – the fairy theme… is there a prize?” When Willie pulled back looking a little puzzled, the fledge added, “You know for the best costume? Free drinks… c’mon they always did it in the frat house!!” Willie simply wiped the table, refilled the blood then grinned at the fledge and spoke through as still limited sound range. “Yeah Brizes, vree dricks… all good.” The fledge grinned and Willie was toasted for the ‘half prices before eleven’ with promises of ‘pre dinner drinks with friends’. Perhaps it was not his real purpose for the promotion but he was not about to pass up increased trade. For once, the bar owner contemplated, maybe the night was worth the pain and really would prove a profitable one after all.
The Friday evening with the Fae at Willie’s was a triumph. The dear (rather damaged) bar owner never realizing that two fae kissing atop a disco ball would have so much appeal to his regular customers. Harry had simply grinned and mouthed “Any time mate” before all but pole dancing the fixture’s wire stay and passionately and very publicly kissing the stunning purple Michael again. The man of the moment, the one year emerged Hamadryad, Xander, gave a near silent tribute to those in attendance, and acknowledged his claimed partner Spike for the first time in public. It was unlike Harry to be emotional, but buried his face in Michael’s (whom he was spooning from the back) magnificent purple wings and let tears of joy fall for his two. Spike was amazed to find that Clem had ‘worded up’ a lot of the demons present, and all were more than happy to associate with the fae community now that the 'Big Bad' had been willingly claimed. Spike would have stayed on, but Xander was still a youngster and really needed to sleep and feed, so they left the revelers to their own devices and an open bar. (The Gem of Amara not the only valuable gem found in the crypt that night!) As the night wore on, and many drinks and several dances later, there was unasked for support being leveled toward the fae from all directions. It was an unexpected result of a night of unfettered frivolity for the faerie community – and even included the usually private nymphs who had to be specifically coaxed! Willie could not have been happier. As they settled into the tree, Spike put them both to sleep in the time honored way, though he did not bother to withdraw after easing his charge to a leisurely climax. Xander awoke to his second year of free nymph status with the feeling of his adored partner inside him.
Two days later Buffy had done her homework. It might take longer but she knew that there were at least nine large trees in the south east area of the cemetery where she had first encountered demon Xander in Sunnydale. She decided that if one was a demon tree, probably all of them were… At the instruction of the ‘expert’ from the hardware store, she purchased some poison and engaged two students from her psychology class to do the deed. Knowing the wards on the trees would detect anyone intending ill for them, she told the lads that she had joined her sister in the local nature preservation society and the current task was to rid the trees of borer – the treatment was to inject the medicine in a series of holes around the trunk. They were given a hand held, battery powered, hammer drill, ironically one of Xander’s, to make the holes in the base of each of nine ‘stricken’ trees, a large bottle of poison and a funnel with which to apply it. According to her understanding, by killing a demon tree, it would also kill the demons within. What she had not anticipated was the response that Xander and his dear tree and the others engendered. Dawn had been cajoled into spending a sisterly evening… with Buffy watching some schmaltzy remake of ‘Guess Who’s coming to dinner?’… as though that was ever going to surpass the original!
Xander felt it immediately, his body burning. He had been snoozing with arms wrapped around her, her bark covering him, and he suckling on and off while the sun warmed his back. Spike was inside her asleep, still not quite comfortable with the bark enveloping him or the early morning sun, but they had been out the previous afternoon together, and most of the night. He felt the agony of a drill entering his leg but knew to stay still until the assailants departed, as they moved to the next tree he slid from his place. The wards were still up, but it was human poison, both he and the mother were now in agony as the white fire spread. He saw them assaulting the cypress, their faces were burnt into his memory, but, like the other nymphs in his area, he knew his role was to help her. Spike felt the sickening shudder as his partner fell from her grasp and knew there was something terribly wrong. Emerging, the increasingly fae vampire saw Xander slumped against the tree desperately trying to remove one of the cork plugs that had been inserted into the mother to hold in the poison, not even aware that his own calf muscle carried the same. The nymph was ill, that was obvious, and yet Spike knew that the matter of the tree was also urgent. He recognized the problem immediately. In his days as a young human, his Uncle Charles had cleared unwanted willows from his estate in just such a manner - poisoning them at the base with the aim to kill and thereby preventing regrowth, before cutting them down. Spike swiftly removed all the corks, including the one from Xander’s leg, quickly squeezing out the offending liquid from his dear friend then sucking the hole as cleanly as he could. He slit his wrist and made to drip his blood into the gaping hole but Xander’s whispered plea stopped him. “Leave me! She must be cleaned… Spike… please… we have to save her! Mother!!!” The last was a scream of agony that was felt through the entire fae community in the cemetery – and even beyond, and was matched by the desperate calls from eight other hamadryads whose trees were now similarly attacked. Michael was frantic, the tiny faerie powerless to suck out the injected poison as size was against him, as it was with all his siblings and cousins. Harry was torn between trying to help Xander and Spike at his own (now) family tree and attending his lover. It was daytime, he might be seen, but in the end there was no question and he traversed the open space to envelop a sobbing Michael in his arms before deciding on a course of action that would require far more risk than a mere hundred meters of obviousness. A quick ‘war meeting’ later saw five teams dispatched to various locations – even though many were young and had not ventured far from their corner of the cemetery, ‘General Harry’ was confident they would do as asked. Lily, who had zoomed in with three of her cousins when she saw what was going on, headed out with her team to find Dawn – it was a perilous mission and involved searching a campus. At least Dawn had her own unique magical signature. Michael was charged with locating and convincing Giles to come. He left willingly but only after a tearful hug with a very resolute General Harry. The younger faerie stared at the exquisite form of his older blue lover and felt very, very humble. Charismatic, immense strength seemed to flow from the tiny blue faerie as he deployed the teams. Their kiss was fleeting, the “See you in an hour or three” was everything as Michael flew out into the sunshine on his mission. The younger faeries were directed to fly to all other trees in the near vicinity, and three to the pond, to garner assistance from their tree and water nymph friends – regardless of the hour! And anyone spare was instructed to carry as much water as they could manage to assist the desperate wood nymphs who were all now suffering the effects of the poison. Harry himself took a hand picked team and headed for Willie’s then to find Willow at the coven. The latter being the most dangerous as the fae were generally not welcome in the witches’ inner sanctum – indeed often specific wards were invoked to prevent their intrusion. Spike for his part, had tried to rest his injured and poisoned friend, but in the end knew that Xander was driven – even to death – to assist the mother tree. They knelt side by side, found each hole in succession and sucked out the poison, spitting it on the ground with disgust, then Spike would squirt his own now changed blood into the hole via mouth, followed by Xander with his frond that was always previously reserved for Spike. As the process concluded both fae vampire and nymph collapsed at the base of the Mother tree. Spike was violently ill and continued to be sick until dry retching, finally crawling back to his semi conscious, shivering and obviously seriously poisoned partner. He did something he had not done for the previous century, something that he was not even sure would work… he opened the ancient vampire familial link with Angel and all but screamed for help.
Less than ten minute’s later a desperate Angel was heading for Sunnydale…
“Hello! It’s going to be uncomfortable and really! So not needing a Sunnydale moment right now.” “Cordy… just drive!” “OoooK but if this is about Miss I-can-slay-but-can’t-seem-to-dress-with-flair you so owe me a shopping trip!” Cordelia turned to add to the diatribe but stopped instantly as she saw the genuine desperation on Angel’s face as he peered from his curled up position under a heavy pile of blankets on the back seat of his own car. “Cordy!!… Please!!!! … Just drive.” She knew in that instant, that it was nothing to do with Buffy and hoped that there were not too many police with speed detectors between LA and Sunnydale.
Giles, Willow and Dawn all arrived together, and surprisingly, a black eyed Willie along with Clem and two of Clem’s cousins minutes later, all shocked at a scene reminiscent of a natural disaster. Sobbing water nymphs comforted faeries who were sure their tree had been killed, and wood nymphs from nearby were desperately trying to feed their fallen cousins at the base of damaged trees, crying openly as their efforts seemed to have little effect. Willow called the entire coven. Noone was sure the damage was reversible, certainly none was magical. One of the witch’s was a keen gardener and identified the poison as a systemic one. The humans and wiccans (along with Clem and friends) consequently used squeeze bottles and whatever else it took to flush out the deadly concoction from the horrid holes. All the hamadryads were similarly fed copious amounts of pure water, and sap from their brothers and sisters from other trees. All would be suffer the effects for many days, but with proper care would recover. But Xander was a different matter. The former Scoobie lay slumped and a nasty pale grey color at the base of the tree, several leaves already fallen and the rest yellowing. Spike was now close to comatose himself and curled into an agonized ball at the feet of his beloved, so much poison flowing through his changed system that neither his vampire nor fae systems had the means to counter it. That was how Dawn and Giles found them.
Cordy ran over the cemetery sign and violated as many county laws as she knew to drive the car almost to the base of the tree. Dawn and Giles were holding the pair trying everything they could think of by the time Angel arrived. The older vampire sprinted to the tree. From under a thick blanket, and not waiting for permission, he shoved two open wrists dripping with healing vampire blood into the stricken two’s mouths. After many minutes, Spike roused enough to whisper “Sire”, then bit his own wrist and pushed Angel’s from Xander’s inert mouth to replaced it with his own. As the rather stunned older vampire’s still dripping blood fell on the hole in Xander’s leg, Dawn saw the healing begin and hoped. Angel saw too and opened his wrist wound further to apply more to the angry grey area. Spike continued to suckle and was comforted as Xander too finally began to drink.
The unsung hero of the night was undoubtedly Harry. He was closely followed by Michael and Lily who had braved daylight to find humans, and Clem and company who kept a constant flow of fresh water and ice to the trees - and Willie who proved remarkably adept at being able to fend off humans wishing to visit the corner of the 'cemetery come warzone' with a variety of excuses and fast talking. Part Seventeen
In late afternoon, Angel was holding his changed Childe, comforted that his blood still had some effect. But then felt a distinct shudder from the tree and both Xander and Spike moaning in tandem.
Spike and Xander were in particular trouble, but eight other nymphs – and all the mother trees were also struggling. It was not just the nymphs and their trees in distress – the fae and human helpers too were waning, and the bottles of water diligently provided by Clem and crew just did not seem to be having the required effect. Their last hope was the coven. The members were all finally gathered and had joined Willow in the cemetery late afternoon. Under normal circumstance there would be no way they would invoke a healing spell of such magnitude in broad daylight – but this was no ordinary circumstance. Willie’s efforts to dissuade folks from attending the “contaminated section of the cemetery – but don’t worry it will be clean in no time” area meant they had the place to themselves. (Possibly the rather disheveled look, still taped nose and black eyes of the badge wearing ‘Manager - My Name is Willie’ also helping to convince patrons to return another day).
Unlike usual spell circles, the group deliberately positioned themselves in an enormous area and would rely on personal connection with the earth and each other to provide the healing and encompass all the trees afflicted. Dawn was thrilled when she was asked to be part of the circle, and Cordelia and Giles were also surprised to be included. And Harry was charged with convincing the fae to participate in an almost unheard of move, placing themselves at various points in a wiccan circle. But Willow was still worried the circle had a large gap near Spike’s old crypt. Finally it was Clem and crew, and Willie who stepped in unasked to see the life energy complete and focused. Angel pulled the two invalids in his care into a tight hug as Willow’s eyes turned black and Mother Earth replied in no uncertain terms.
The ground shook for a full minute. Only seven point one on the Rictor scale but the university bell tower, fascia of the town hall, several statues, plus numerous other buildings succumbed to her fury with cracks, misalignments, and collapse. The entire circle of individuals collapsed at the conclusion of the minute, the fae recovering first and flying (literally) to check on their ill cousins and the trees.
When Harry (who had been ‘checking the troops) found Michael sobbing over the older nymph Celone, his heart sank, but the tearful face of his handsome lover turned to face him and he realized the emotion was one of sheer relief and joy, not grief. Harry kissed his partner, promised his return then moved on to check on the others. Despite Willow’s commanding presence, even she realized that there was no doubt who was the rightful master and commander of the whole rescue. He instructed all the humans to give the nymphs mouth to mouth – the added carbon dioxide at least giving a boost to the usual three percent, then pushed the already exhausted water nymphs to again deliver their precious fluids – just a few more times… for Harry. As he flew by a third time several of the very young water nymphs swooned a little and sighed, only to be slapped as a reminder to attend their duties by older cousins. The sun was setting but for now, it was the best they could do. Dawn and Willow raced to Xander and Spike’s tree and dove under the blankets as instructed and began to breath additional nutrient into the struggling bodies. Angel still dripped blood into mouths whenever either woman took a break. And finally they began to see a little improvement, the frothing and convulsions ceased and the two bodies appeared to rest. Eventually all the humans and wiccans withdrew – including Cordelia who was invited to a latte at Giles’ expense and offered a bed for the night at Willow’s. The seer was touched. Clem came by as though on command and delivered yet another package of blood from Willie – the man himself now utterly exhausted and resting in the passenger seat of Clem’s pride and joy – a new yellow ‘VW Beetle’. Apparently Willie’s bar would open without Willie that night but with the assistance of Clem’s younger cousin, Gary and ‘friend’ both of whom had seen Harry and Michael’s little show and were quite keen to be behind the bar where there was a better view (apparently), in future. Not to mention the distraction meant more tips for the barman! With both his charges settling more comfortably in his lap and beginning to suckle again, along with the sun setting, Angel threw off the blanket. There was still some way to go for his two ‘lost boys’… He was relieved and exhausted, but still reflected rather sadly that they would never be his boys, Xander never was… but both still held a connection, and a responsibility. Harry came past to check on the most direly affected… his two friends, ironically their Mother Tree the original target, and therefore the attack ironically brutal in its effectiveness… But Xander wasn’t dead, nor was Spike dust (or dead … Angel not sure what would happen now). They still did not know who had ‘done the deed’ but Dawn had been adding up the evidence in her head ever since arriving at the cemetery. She reported to Harry once home.
Harry flew down to the lowest branch and sat exhausted and rather dejected for a moment, before apparently rallying himself. There were two last things to be done – and Angel had to do one of them. Angel turned to the little blue figure and recognized not a mischievous young faerie Harry, but an immensely capable, aged and wise leader, and an extraordinarily caring being who had led the charge to save all their friends. Angel felt rightfully humbled in the presence of the individual, Harry’s presence seemingly now reflective of his charisma and ability to organize rather than his stature. Harry didn’t mince words, simply hovered and stated, “Given the evidence… Do you believe she could do it?” The only answer Angel could add to the investigation was “Yes.” Even without the proof of Buffy’s notes on Dawn’s own minutes from the Preservation Society and the two names circled. Her scribbles regards poisons (with phone numbers) on the back of an old envelope and open telephone book on the kitchen bench, led irrefutably to the perpetrator of the near tragedy.
The doorbell rang twice before Buffy was able to attend it – and even then had her hair trussed up in a towel. “Oh My Gahhh! Angel?! Why…” Buffy slowed for a moment seeing the quintessential ‘everything is dire’ look on her former lover’s face. “Noooo… no, no, no, no, no! You can’t just always come here all apolcalypty!!... Oh God it was the earthquake wasn’t it… Is that it?... Angel???? “Come On!!! Give me something here! Three times dead not really my aim! I know Giles is in town but he’s hardly Mr In the loop! these days.. Which is a whole other story!” Angel bided his time but still stood outside the house. He knew he was not allowed in the house courtesy of an old ‘un-invite’ spell some years ago. But knew, this time, the awkward pause suited him. Buffy frowned again and nervously released her wet locks before realizing, “What? Ohh… Oh!! I invite you in! Gahhh come in!” “I’d rather not… “You don’t want to come in? “I just…. I need you to come with me Buffy… You need to see something.” “Um Oh sure… but, um sorry… need to get… um… I’ll be with you in a minute...” She left the door open and took off upstairs to dress and barely minutes later yelled out Weapons? Do we need weapons?” She was out in less than four minutes, makeup impeccable and weapons in place. Slayer speed sometimes a plus.
As they wandered through Sunnydale, at speed as it happened, Buffy tried for several minutes to engage Angel in conversation, finding him not merely taciturn, but positively distant. “So… you came here because…?” “Got word there was trouble.” “OMG!! And you didn’t think to call me?!! What is it with people these days?! Hello! Superhero in residence!” “Spike called…” “Yay finally!!! Please tell me he is damage bound, because…” The rest of the walk to the cemetery was spent ‘filling Angel in’ with the terrible, now demon, Xander, and the apparently irresponsible Spike. Angel said nothing. As they rounded the warded corner Buffy smelt a rat, but before she was able to react, had an infinitely stronger grip hold her as she was shackled tight – both wrists and ankles – with strong steel and also magically enhanced restraints. She was unceremoniously (and very uncomfortably) strung up, pinned on an odd diagonal angle to the mother tree’s lowest broken branches. In front of her, under a thick blanket and under a pretty angora throw (provided by Dawn) that she recognized from her own mother’s bed, poked two very ill looking individuals that she knew. Both faces were thin and drawn, but still she had no doubt as to who they were. “OK… Angelus! Love it with the puppy eyes, but gotta tell ya… The act’s lame and I don’t know how you got happy but regardless… your boy there’s been neutered and his little friend is a demon of the first order and needs his butt kicked severely!!” Buffy’s monologue fell short when Xander coughed violently then threw up (again). The act swiftly met by the emergence of four sets of hands of various colors and species to assist both the afflicted nymph and his partner who was also in the throws of dry retching. “Seems you managed that already Buff…” She swiftly realized that this was more than something Angelus would have done – indeed he did still feel like Angel. The Slayer was utterly confused, so went on the offensive. “So what is this? Hmmm?? An intervention? Giles you’re the one who taught me … remember? Instinct… good/evil… demon/human… yadda yadda??” A gag of wet pond weed tied by a piece of garden twine was applied, guaranteeing her silence, though the water nymphs unable to string anyone up before pointed out that the weed was quite nutritious if she chose to swallow. Angel said nothing, but simply watched whilst one of the medically trained wiccans inserted a catheter and began to drain her blood into the now well used sports bottle, finally collecting the remainder into a plastic cup as her wound healed. She was still angry and tried to swear through the weed but what Buffy could never have anticipated was the mother tree’s response. Her ‘odd angle’ was fixed in place by a network of fronds and roots still recovering from poison, but no less determined. The mother tree was not heartless, however, and removed the gag, replacing it with her own frond leaving Buffy gagged far more effectively than with the pond weed. She could still swallow and for the next four days would feel the squirt of water and nutrients down her throat from the frond every hour or so. Buffy was utterly… enveloped, forced to watch as the fruits of her murderous intent were dealt with by desperate fae, frantic fauna, worried wiccans, birds and insects of all varieties trying to make sense of their tree’s sudden illness, and all manner of humans and demons racing against time to save the trees she had so callously condemned. She watched as creatures she never even knew existed, struggled with water bottles, applied healing salves and poultices, hefted water from the pond for stricken trees, and carried nectar to nymphs. And all she had wanted to do was free Xander!!! It was not like Angel to lecture – and though he was there each day he didn’t - but the anger rolled off him nightly as he silently forced her to keep her eye’s open to observe the carnage she had caused from her bark prison. Finally, on the fourth and last day as he stood, the mother tree released her. Xander and Spike were now resting safely inside her, unbeknownst to Buffy, when the older vampire addressed her directly. “If you touch any of them… Xander… Spike… whoever… again? I will kill you. This is not an idle threat… And I will have the full approval of three realms to do so. Xander is one of the protectors now – to attack him is to violate the earth herself and Spike, his partner, and my beloved Childe, straddles all three realms. You shall Not. Touch. Them. Again. Clear?!” Angel turned away displaying his anger and disgust regards her actions with deed not word, and left Dawn to unlock Buffy’s shackles.
Rather than addressing Buffy, the older vampire immediately checked on his lost grandchilde and partner, both were in a healing sleep when he was admitted into her inner sanctum by a combination of tree good will and Harry’s touch. The tree recognized Angel’s scent as one who had helped and apparently related to her dear new nymph (The near death incident, and something about his unique vampire heritage, accelerating Spike’s change toward fully mated nymph without the traditional period interned in her bark). Spike roused as a few drops of vampire blood fell across his lips and eased their way past the feeding frond from Xander’s nipple and into his stomach. “Hey” Spike slowly pulled off his partner, Angel never really getting used to the sight of the retracting frond, or the obviously deep throat extension the mother tree used to feed her true nymph Xander. Spike gave a very rough and sleep filled, “Hey” and blinked lazily. “I… I’ll have to go home soon Spike… I um… I just didn’t want to go before… “Stay tonight Sire … Please? Just tonight…” Spike’s pleading look combined with arms that reached up for a hug like some small child left Angel with no option. He hugged his fae grandchilde and agreed to stay.
No one spoke to Buffy as she departed and there was complete silence in the cemetery as she made her way out, her hand on Mr Pointy but not really sure she was ready to use it, though she still had to walk home. It would be many months before their cemetery had the ‘protection’ of the Slayer – though eventually there was a quiet truce. Buffy never felt comfortable around the huge trees of Sunnydale again – always feeling like they looked at her with disfavor. And never again did she frequent a hardware store for poison.
A week after Buffy was captured, two amber amulets arrived in the post for the boys involved with the ‘Preservation Society” and their tree venture. Less than two months later, each was drawn to the park at the rear of City Hall. Both disappeared… and two ten year old oaks shivered their joy as each was gifted with their own nymph. The new fae would be held, cherished and coddled for two to four years at least before being released. The fae knew from the wards, the boys’ intentions had never been to harm, so rather than retribution they gifted them with a life that had a sole purpose – protecting their respective mother trees.
Epilogue
It was Harry’s idea… the others really did need to know, he had been sitting stroking Michael’s thick purple tresses, and contemplating the best course of action for hours.
Spike looked over at Angel who had released hands with everyone immediately, and walked away from the group to stand alone and stare at the new moon. Spike squeezed his lover’s hand and stood to join the vampire. Angel felt the presence – not like family any more exactly, but calm, quiet, and comfortable nevertheless. Arms pulling his own duster tight, he didn’t turn but knew his whisper was clearly audible to fae and vampire. “We both know… The others will be long gone… but I’ll be… Oh Spike! How can I?!... I know you’re already… but this is… saying goodbye!...” Before Spike had time to react, Angel spun and was kneeling at his beautiful Grandchilde’s feet arms wrapped around the fae’s pale legs and cheek resting against a torso now adorned by an exquisite line of leaves. The additions were soft and almost warm, and moved a little as Angel’s tears began to drop in a steady stream. Spike was rather overcome by the move but after a few seconds, slid down slowly, gently to comfort, since the truth, he knew, was always going to be painful. “C’mon y’ol bugger… not gonna happen for a long while is it! Near on as immortal as us, these here trees – you saw her with the poisonin’ and so on. Reckon we’ve got…” “Oh Gahhh Spike please… I am happy for you but just can’t… just can’t bear the thought that you’re going to be… I’ve just really found you…” “Still here ya silly ol’ ponce!” The words were harsh but the tone extremely soft and affectionate. “And we’ll send our friend Harry there after you if you don’t come visit our tree on Christmas an’ bank holidays – or whatever the hell they do here. An’ you better stick to it too ‘cause that boy’s a right tough one an’ gonna outlive the lot of us, what with ‘is new young plaything ‘n all!” Angel snorted a little laugh then hugged Spike all the tighter. “ I… I um… I’m happy you will find completeness. You’ve earned it.” “Not about earnin’ anythin’ Luv… we both know that…” Both fell into game face, harder these days for Spike as his features barely shifted though he still managed small fangs to slide through. Nevertheless, the fangs on both vampires were sharp and necks offered and shared. Spike pulled away, blood lining his green tinged lips and grinned. He decided to try to lighten the mood a little after the exchange, “Still time for you anyway!… I mean you fed her and us… Still reckon she could fix you up with one of ‘er sisters for sure.” Angel smiled weakly then registered the words and slapped the fae vampire in his arms lightly before pulling him into an even tighter hug, kissing the claim mark and whispering with complete sincerity, “Anything you need… You’re family… that will never change… but oh… Gho…” Angel allowed a tear to fall. “It does not matter Spike?!... you call me OK?… Family… always… [hitched and unnecessary breath] And when they’re all gone. And you and Xander are… Spike just promise you’ll listen if I come and sit at your feet to read to you in the Autumn… Please?? When an old irish bugger comes to read Joyce or Yeats or …. Oh God… Spike… Please… Just Remember? You used to do that…when…” Angel seemed to lose his train of thought as he was swept up by memories of years prior to his ensoulment and allowed a flood of tears to flow and gave a very audible sob. Spike contemplated another ‘cheerup’ effort but realized the seriousness of the request and the very real distress of someone he had so recently come to know again, so he answered with heartfelt reverence, “Yeah Sire… that would be nice… Be honored if you’d do that… thanks. Visit us too – before like? Harry not needin’ t’ chase?” Angel turned and stroked the exquisite right cheekbone with the back of his hand and whispered, “You couldn’t keep me away.” Angel then pulled him into a tight hug. They held for some minutes more. Finally both stood and returned to the group, Angel’s hand gently touching the leaf surrounded one repeatedly as they walked, as though to reassure himself that Spike was indeed still with him… at least for now. Just before they rejoined the rest of the Scoobies, Spike used the light touch to snag the hand and pull Angel to a halt. This time it was dark brown fronds, which had replaced lashes, now surrounding crystal blue eyes that were dripping with tears. Angel knew intuitively to stay still even before his Grandchilde began, “Don’t interrupt or this is gonna come out all wonky… “Right… You’ll always be m’ Grandsire, regardless of the leaves or roots thingy, family an’ the like… and I thank you for… well you know with the long life an’ all that, but what you’ve done… given… of late as a friend… for the boy n’ me… just…” Spike squeezed the hand and pursed his lips before he resolved to keep going. “Oh F@#$ alright… I bloody love ya, ya ol’ bugger, an’ worse still, so does the boy, so no getting’ yourself dusted afore ya get to keep the readin’ promise OK?!!! “ Angel had his usual unreadable expression fixed firmly in place as they rejoined the group, but Xander knew the sign of recently wet fronds and smiled knowingly, meeting his partner with a hug… They were part of the fae, protectors of her and eventually would be joined forever… but they were so much more… Angel accepted, his… their… old friends accepted, and their new ones rejoiced… and there would be many more challenges before the planting no doubt, but even so… it was… just right. Spike pulled Xander up and the two kissed passionately – Dawn could have sworn she saw their leaves reach toward each other also as their lips combined. Mother Earth shivered her own pleasure just enough for the fae to know as the two rejoiced, and Harry kissed Michael triumphantly before he broke out thimbles of mead for all in attendance and they toasted the happy couple and to Angel and Cordy’s safe trip… and … and…. And….
The End Little Extra
Twenty years on from Spike’s first year as nymph… autumn… Baden
Baden worried… but also felt utterly calm… a contradiction he was still trying to come to terms with as he woke for the fourth time in three months and knew that the stories his grandmother told… were real. The frond feeding him pulsed more sap into his system and like any newborn he slept again.
|
