Chapter 3: Expecting the Unexpected

*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.”


* * *

TBC.....

Next Chapter: The Watcher's Diary

The Watcher's Diary

Disclaimer: Any persons or objects made reference to, or resebling other stories, movies, TV programs or otherwise do NOT belong to me. I make no money from it, and don't mean to.

Please send reviews to: joanieaitken@earthlink.net

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Someone posted me a review that said they thought the Harry Potter
reference was stupid. Apparently they thought that it was a lame idea to introduce a journal resembling Tom Riddle's journal... Well I just say Phhtttthhhhpppp!!! My story, so HA! No seriously, come on, why wouldn't something resembling Tom Riddle's journal show up on the HELLMOUTH?! Hello, portal for weird mystical and magical objects! Okay, sorry, I went off on a rant. My point is, it's my story. Besides...I thought it was kinda fun to use a Harry Potter reference. >shrugs<
___________________________________________________________________________________



Chapter 4: The Watcher’s Diary


“This is so cool! It’s like having Tom Riddle’s journal from Harry Potter!” Dawn wrote in the journal.

“I beg your pardon? I don’t believe I know this ‘Harry Potter’ chap. Is he a friend of yours?” Nigel’s words appeared on the page.

“No one cracks a book around here…then again, you are a book. So how does this work anyway?” Dawn wrote.

“It’s quite simple, really. When I was a Watcher I came across an incantation that would put my essence into a journal, therefore I could live beyond my years. Oliver Travers suggested the idea, he thought it was a brilliant way for my expertise to survive for all Watchers to access.” Nigel wrote.

“You were a watcher? Hey cool! Rupert Giles is my Sister’s Watcher.” Dawn wrote.

“You are the Slayer’s sister? Well, this is fortunate indeed!” Nigel Wrote. “To fall quite literally into the Slayer’s hands is quite a benefit, you see. That was my original idea, to be of aid to all Slayers… but Oliver Travers wanted to keep me within the Watcher’s Headquarters.”

“Oliver Travers? Is that Quentin Travers’ father?” Dawn wrote.

“Why yes, I do believe so. Oliver’s wife was pregnant with little Quentin when I transferred myself. How is the young chap doing?” Nigel wrote.

“Well, he’s not so young anymore. He’s the Head Watcher. He hates Giles and Buffy, though. He’s kinda creepy in a power hungry kinda way. Buffy quit the council, and he wasn’t happy about it.” Dawn wrote.

“My word, a Slayer quitting the council? Are you sure?” Nigel wrote.

“Positive.” Dawn wrote.

“Dear Lord…” Nigel wrote.

“What? What’s bad?” Dawn wrote quickly.

“I beg your pardon?” Nigel wrote. Dawn could almost picture the Watcher itching to clean his glasses.

“Whenever Giles realizes something bad, he says ‘Dear Lord’. I figure it's a Watcher thing.” Dawn wrote.

“Oh, yes, quite. Not too far from the mark, I’m afraid. Your sister doesn’t happen to be associated with the Vampire with a heart’ does she?” Nigel wrote.

“Well I guess you could call Spike that. This creepy guy named Doc did anyway. Spike doesn’t have a soul, but he’s a big softie…or he *was* anyway.” Dawn added sadly.

“Was?” Nigel wrote.

“He was staked… About two months ago. Poor Buffy is pregnant now and he’s gone.” Dawn wrote.

“My word…it’s begun.” Nigel wrote.

“What? What has begun?” Dawn wrote eagerly.

“DAWN!!” Buffy called from the bottom of the stairs.

“What?” Dawn called back as she read Nigel’s reply.

“It’s nothing you should concern your self with, my dear.” Nigel wrote.

“Phone for you! It’s Connor!” Buffy called back.

“Tell him I’ll call him back!” Dawn yelled as she wrote; “It’s obviously something. Come on, tell me.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say anything more at this time. Please don’t ask me about it again.” Nigel wrote.

“Nigel…!” Dawn wrote.

“I’m sorry, I must go now. Good bye.” Nigel wrote. The page blurred, and then stiffened.

“Nigel...? Nigel! Mr. Hawthorne!” Dawn wrote, but got no reply.

“He says he needs to talk to you now!” Buffy called up the stairs again. Dawn growled in frustration.

“Fine, I’m coming!” Dawn called out, shut the diary as hard as she could and then ran down the stairs.

* * *

As Dawn grabbed the phone out of Buffy’s hand with a look of annoyance that Buffy couldn’t place, there was a knock at the door. Buffy sighed and walked over to open it.

“Hi Giles. What’s up?” Buffy greeted him as he entered.

“Hey Giles.” Dawn called out to him as she walked back up to her room, already engrossed in her conversation on the phone.

“The Council I’m afraid. Something I didn’t think of before.” Giles said as they walked into the living room and sat down.

“What now?” Buffy groaned. Giles was silent for a moment as he nervously cleaned his glasses and fidgeted. Buffy couldn’t believe how much she had missed him…he had decided to postpone his trip back to England after Spike’s disappearance, but he was still going to move back eventually.

Giles sighed and stood up to pace. “Buffy, it won’t be long before the Council finds out about your pregnancy.” He warned.

“Oh…that. I didn’t even think about it.” Buffy frowned.

“Yes I know. We’ve all been a bit preoccupied I’m afraid, which is understandable.”

“Okay, I don’t see what the big is.” Buffy shrugged.

Giles gave her a look. “Buffy, you are carrying the child of a Slayer and *a vampire*. That is the big, as you put it. The council will not allow the child to live if they ever find out about it.”

“WHAT?!” Buffy shrieked and stood, outraged.

“There is no telling what kind of powers or strengths your child will have. The council’s policy is to destroy any offspring of a vampire and a Slayer, no matter how remote the possibilities are of that occurring. They consider it an abomination.”

“And you agree with this?!” Buffy yelled.

“Of course not Buffy! I am merely warning you! We must hide the fact that the child you are carrying is the offspring of a Vampire, or Quentin will flood this place with assassins to kill you *and* your child.”

“What?” Buffy half whispered. She had a terrible sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“We both know that Quentin would have no problem with destroying your child, he also wouldn’t care if you perished along with it. He only needs an excuse, and he would do it. This would be his excuse Buffy. For your future
and your child’s…we must form a plan. The council must not know if it.” Giles told her.

Buffy nodded while wiping a tear from her eye. “Fine. Where do we start?”

“We come up with a story…” Giles began, and for the next few hours, he and Buffy planned the story for when the C.O.W. came snooping around.

* * *

Watcher Headquaters, Spike’s cell…


Spike did his best to pace his small quarters. He needed a cigarette, but the wankers would never give him any. He reckoned the drugs in the blood they gave him were starting to wear off on him… maybe he was building some sort of tolerance to it. He had a bit more energy now. He could pace in his small cell for at least two minutes before starting to feel drained and lethargic. But if he waited long enough….maybe, just maybe he could get his hands around that prick Quentin’s throat and tear it out before they dusted him.

Spike felt a pang go through him every time he though of it. He hadn’t wanted to really kill anyone for a long time now…and he knew that he was playing right into that prick Quentin’s hands.

Quentin wanted Spike to crack and turn his back on the Slayer. He wanted to break Spike’s resolve, and prove him to be just another demon. The thing Spike hated most was, he could feel his resolve slipping. He was fighting it, tooth and nail, but his demon was raging inside of him to do something. To take revenge.

Without Buffy’s calming presence, Spike was loosing his ground. He knew he had more control of his demon because of Buffy and Dawn…and hell, even the rest of the group. There was that whole ‘positive reinforcement’ thing, or whatever. Now with them removed…would he turn into the demon the Council of wankers
all expected him to be? Without his anchors, would he return to his old way of life?

No… Spike knew deep down he could never return to his former self. He cared too much; he had gotten too close to those humans. But that still left him in a gray area. When Buffy and her beloved Scooby gang were all gone…how would he cope?

Then again, he suspected he’d never see them again. They all thought he was dead anyway. Which brought him back to his original dilemma. He would probably never get out of here. He was stronger now…and if he could just get a hold of Quentin for a minute…then they would stake him, and it would all be over. One thought made him smirk though:

At least he’d get to take the prick to hell with him.

* * *

Sunnydale, four months after Spike’s disappearance…


“Buffy! Hurry up, your gonna be late!” Dawn called up the stairs impatiently. Giles stood at the foot of the stairs with her, trying to look calm.

“I’m coming, just a minute!” Buffy called back.

“You said that *five* minutes ago!” Dawn retorted. There was some shuffling around in Buffy’s room, a loud thud and the sound of something fragile breaking. Some more thuds, and Buffy came down the stairs at a quick pace, her small round belly slightly visible against her tight shirt.

“Ready.” She declared as she joined them.

“It’s about time.” Dawn sighed as the three of them headed out the door and piled into Giles’ car.

“Oh please. Doctors are always late to the appointment, what difference does it make if I’m not on time?” Buffy said as they pulled out of the driveway.

“This sounds an awful lot like your movie theory.” Dawn rolled her eyes.

“Movie theory?” Giles questioned while driving.

“Buffy believes in being ten minutes late to the movie theater so that you don’t have to watch the previews. I think it’s a faulty theory, seeing how you never get any good seats.” Dawn grumbled.

“Oh come on. The front row isn’t that bad.” Buffy said lamely.

“Yeah if you don’t mind getting a permanent kink in your neck and watching a movie at a weird perspective.”

“Alright, alright, I get the point.” Buffy muttered.

“I rather like watching the previews.” Giles said.

“Ha! See!” Dawn said triumphantly, as if proving a point.

“What is this, team up on Buffy day?” Buffy pouted.

“No, it’s ‘prove Buffy wrong’ day.” Dawn giggled and dodged a playful slap on the arm from her sister.

“Its sad that I’m the only mature adult in this car.” Giles muttered to himself as he pulled into the clinic parking lot. He let Buffy and Dawn out at the entrance, found a parking space and went inside to join them.

Buffy and Dawn were sitting in the clinic waiting room, making fun of magazines as he sat in the empty chair next to Buffy.

“Did you check in?” He asked.

“Yes Daddy.” Buffy rolled her eyes at him and grinned at his frustrated look while Dawn giggled.

“Buffy Summers?” A female nurse read off her chart.

Buffy turned to her sister with a triumphant look on her face. “You see, arrive at the doctors office late, still get there on time.” Buffy said, practically sticking her tongue out at her sister.

Buffy stood and followed the nurse as she led Buffy down a hall of exam rooms. The nurse stopped in one, motioned for Buffy to enter and followed in after her, closing the door.

The Nurse asked Buffy some questions, took her blood pressure, height and weight, then told her the doctor would be with her shortly. Buffy sat in the room all alone, glancing around at the pictures on the wall. One was a poster of the phases of pregnancy, another was one of those cheesy posters with inspirational sayings, and there was a rather ugly painting. Buffy sighed and toddled around the small room. She peered into the ‘mystery’ cabinet, where doctors keep all those weird bottles of things and bandages, peered inside each of the little jars sitting on the counter with tongue depressors, cotton balls and long Q-tip looking things, flipped through the out-of-date magazines, and got herself a little paper cup full of water while she waited. Twenty minutes had passed by the time the Doctor finally came in.

“Hello Ms. Summers, my name is Dr. Clarke.” The female doctor smiled warmly at Buffy as she checked her chart. “I understand you are about 4 months pregnant?”

“Yeah, at least that’s what the E.R. physician said.” Buffy told her. The doctor flipped through a few pages on her chart.

“Ah, yes, Dr. Rice. She is a very good Doctor, I don’t doubt she was correct. Well great. I think we can fit you in for an ultra-sound today. If you would like, we should be able to tell the sex of your baby.” Dr. Clarke told
her.

“Really?” Buffy said, astonished.

“It depends on if the baby is turned the right way, but hopefully we will be able to tell.” Dr. Clarke smiled, I’ll just go check and see if we can squeeze you in today. I’ll be right back.” The doctor smiled and left the room,
leaving Buffy’s head spinning with the prospect of seeing her child.

Ten minutes later Dr. Clarke returned with the news that Buffy was scheduled for an ultrasound in 15 minutes. Dr. Clarke said that she would be doing the ultra-sound in a room down the hall. She also told Buffy that her friend and Sister could join if she wanted, so Buffy went back out into the waiting room to ask Giles and Dawn if they wanted to come. Dawn was excited, and Giles just had a dumbstruck look on his face, but agreed. So the three of them went down the hall and entered the Ultra-sound room. There was a large panel of equipment on the far wall and a table for the patient to lie down on next to it.

“Please Ms. Summers, lie down and lift your shirt up to your breasts.” Dr. Clarke said as she readied the Ultra-sound. Giles looked a bit out of place among the women-oriented posters of childbirth and cute babies adorning the walls, but he found a chair near-by and sat in it gingerly.

“Would you like to have this taped Ms. Summers?” Dr. Clarke asked.

“You can do that?” Dawn said excitedly. The doctor nodded.

“Yes, please.” Buffy said. The doctor hit a button on the machine and turned back to Buffy.

“This’ll be a bit cold.” Dr. Clarke warned Buffy as she squirted some kind of gel on her stomach. Dr. Clarke then took what looked kind of like a computer mouse and started moving it around on Buffy’s abdomen. A picture appeared on the screen, weird lines odd shapes moving around as the doctor moved the apparatus, but quickly a large balloon shaped object filled the screen, and in it was a small fetus on it’s back.

“Oh wow!” Dawn exclaimed.

“Good heavens.” Giles gapped.

“Oh my god…that’s my baby,” Buffy said, nearly in tears, “I wish he could see this.”

“Your baby looks perfectly fine Ms. Summers. It looks to be about 4 months old, so you’re right on schedule. Would you like to know the sex?” The Doctor asked.

Buffy was too choked up to speak, so she just nodded eagerly. Dr. Clarke smiled in understanding.

“You’re going to have a baby girl.”

* * *

Watcher’s Headquarters, Spike’s cell…


Spike was dreaming, he knew he was. He was back home with Buffy and Dawn, and he was happy. This dream wasn’t anything like the angst filled dreams of torment that he had been having for the past two weeks.

The giant prick Quentin hadn’t shown his face once in two weeks, so Spike was saved from his rash fantasies of tearing out the prick’s throat, edged on by his intense dreams that crushed his hopes for returning home. But he still couldn’t escape his dreams.

Tonight’s dream was different. Buffy was smiling at him, and telling him they were going to have a baby. Dawn was excited about being an Aunt and Giles was honored to be chosen as the baby’s Godfather. Spike wished he could hide away in his dream world forever, but then he awoke, and it was almost worse than the nightmares.

The dream world disappeared as the real world took hold…he began to realize that he was thousands of miles away from everything he loved. He would then remember that it was impossible for Buffy to be pregnant with his child, and Rupert would never be happy even if such a thing could happen.

Spike felt defeated. He didn’t have the energy to care anymore. He would never get out of this place…Buffy would move on and Dawn would grow up. They would all go on living, and forget all about him. Maybe it was all for the best anyway…

The metal door clanked open and the big prick walked in with seven other Watchers, as if they expected a big scene.

Spike hardly hazard a glance at them.

“Feeling better today Mr. Spike?” Quentin asked.

“Fuck off.” Spike snorted.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Quentin pulled a chair out of the corner of the room and sat six feet away from Spike. “My sources dug up some news about your Slayer.”

“I care piss-all about you and your sources.”

“Oh that’s too bad…” Quentin said condescendingly, “Because it turns out Buffy Summers has been cheating on you.”

Spike’s head snapped up and looked Quentin directly in the eyes.

“Oh, I see I finally got your attention.” Quentin chuckled.

“She would never.” Spike glared daggers at the prick.

“Oh? Then how did she get pregnant? I have the files right here…” Quentin held up his hand and one of his lackeys placed a small manila folder in his hand. Quentin opened the folder and handed Spike a copy of Buffy’s
medical file.

The file listed the questionnaire they had Buffy take at the Doctor’s office. In it she listed the father as Parker Abrams.

“My sources checked out the information. It seems she had a one-night stand with Mr. Abrams shortly after you ‘died’. Apparently the Slayer didn’t love you as much as you thought. I believe you know this boy…Parker, is it? My sources say that Ms. Summers has had…. relations to Mr. Abrams before.”

Spike looked at the ultrasound picture and the medical file in shock.

Quentin smirked at Spike’s bewildered look, stood and moved the chair back to the corner of the room.

“Good day Mr. Spike.” Quentin said as he left the cell, all seven watchers trailing behind him. When the Iron door was bolted shut, Quentin walked to the one-way mirror and looked in at Spike still staring at the file in shock.

“What now sir?” One of the Watchers asked.

“Now we give him a day or two… By then he will be willing to tell us whatever we want to know.” Quentin smirked, as he watched Spike break down and start to cry. “Check mate.”

* * *

TBC....

Next Chapter: Illusions

*Author's note* I totally apologize for the short-ness of this chapter...Real life stuff is getting in the way, and I rarely have time to write right now. Hopefully things will calm down in a month or so, and I can get back to writing faster. I hope I still have some fans out there. >G<

Chapter 5: Never Judge a book by it's cover

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Sorry this one took so long. The AC Adapter on my laptop stopped working, so I had to order a new one...wouldn't you know it I had to special order it from Gateway. >sighs< So this entire time I've been working off of my parent's computer, so I didn't have access to any of my programs. Luckily they had Microsoft
Word, so I was writing on that. So now that I have my new AC adapter, I can *finally* upload this chapter. Yay!

Plus you may notice I changed the name of this chapter. It *was* going to be called 'Illusions', but I decided to change it because this one is more fitting. 'Illusions' is more fitting for the next chapter... ;-)
___________________________________________________________________________________


Four months, and 3 days since Spike’s disapperance…

“Are you quite through with that?” Nigel’s writing appeared on the blank page of the Journal. Dawn snorted in frustration.

“Oh stuff a sock in it.” Dawn wrote.

“Don’t get testy with me because your ‘fabulous plan’ didn’t work.” Nigel wrote.

“I never called it a ‘fabulous plan’.” Dawn wrote back viciously. “Besides, if you would just tell me what ‘Has begun’, I wouldn’t have to botch spells to force you to tell me.”

“Truth Spells don’t work on books, my dear. You can’t force a blank page to tell you anything.” Nigel wrote back, in what Dawn imagined to be a haughty tone.

“Why won’t you tell me?!” Dawn wrote in frustration. She practically threw the Spell ingredients back into her ‘secret box’ that she kept hidden in the back corner of her closet.

“Because if I told you now, it would upset the balance. I’m sorry my dear, but you’ll just have to wait. Trust me, you’ll know when I want to say something.”

“Fine.” Dawn wrote moodily.

“Has your sister decided on a name for the baby?” Nigel wrote.

“Not really. She bought like, a dozen of those Baby name books…Who in God’s name would name their’ child “Beatrice”?”Dawn wrote.

“I’ll have you know my mother’s name was Beatrice.” Nigel wrote back.

“Oh… Sorry.” Dawn wrote sheepishly, “Well… Buffy’s rather fond of “Hope” right now. She said something sappy about the baby being a miracle, blah, blah, blah.”

“That is a perfect name for the baby. Quite fitting, in fact.” Nigel wrote.

“I guess. Who knows though…she might change it. It’s still pretty early to be deciding.” Dawn shrugged, even though the journal couldn’t see it.

“Dawn!! Everyone is here, it’s movie time!” Buffy called up the stairs to her sister’s room.

“I’m coming!” Dawn yelled back while she wrote to Nigel, “I have to go, Buffy just called for me.”

“Alright. Good evening Ms. Summers.” Nigel wrote.

“Bye Nigel.” Dawn wrote and then closed the journal. She put the Journal back in her writing desk, stashed the ‘secret box’ in the closet and trotted downstairs into the living room.

Buffy, Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, Giles and Jonathan were all seated around the living room with several bowls of popcorn and beverages scattered amongst them.

“Hey guys…so what’s the movie feature tonight?” Dawn asked as she took a seat on the couch next to Buffy.

Jonathan was the one to stand up and proudly present them with the movie box in his hands.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you for your viewing pleasure, a classic film that no person should be deprived of seeing…Monty Python’s Quest for the Holy Grail!!” Jonathan said as he put the movie in the VCR.

“Oh I love this one!” Xander exclaimed.

“Never heard of it.” Buffy shrugged.

“I’ve always wanted to see it.” Willow grinned.

“Me too.” Tara agreed.

“Bloody hell, not again.” Giles sighed and sank into his chair.

“Is this the one with the bunnies?” Anya asked.

“Spike and I used to watch it-” Dawn started to say, but when everyone fell silent she finished weakly, “In his Crypt.”

“You did?” Buffy broke the silence.

“Uh…yeah…we also watched Passions…but I never got into it.”

“Well um…let’s get on with it.” Jonathan cleared his throat uncomfortably. He put the tape in the VCR, and soon everyone was watching the writers getting sacked.

* * *

L.A., the Hyperion hotel…

Wesley paced the lobby of the hotel as Cordelia, Fred, Gunn and Lorne all looked on.

“I’ve been researching this prophecy you all mentioned last time…” Wesley said, “It sounded vaguely familiar…a reference to it was mentioned in a text I was researching when we found out about Angel’s prophecy. It didn’t have anything to do with the Shanshu prophecy so I ignored it…little did I know that-”

“Wesley?” Cordelia interrupted him.

“Yes?”

“Get to the punch line.”

“Err, yes, right. Sorry. The Prophecy sounds like the Ahmshe’ir prophecy.” Wesley said.

“Gesuntheit.” Gunn muttered the same time that Fred and Lorne said; “God Bless you.”

Wesley looked less than amused. “This is no laughing matter. This prophecy is even more vague and more ominous sounding than the Shanshu prophecy. From what can be translated it talks about changing the history of Slayers and bringing about the last apocalypse.”

“The last apocalypse? Isn’t that a bit redundant?” Gunn raised an eyebrow.

“Not if it is the one that actually kills us all…the one we can’t prevent.” Wesley muttered.

“Oh. Bummer.” Gunn amended.

“So what the heck does ‘Amenheiznir’ mean anyway?” Cordelia asked.

“It’s pronounced Ahm-she-ir… and that’s a very good question Cordelia,” Wesley said distractedly as he riffled through a stack of old papers.

“Oh goodie….do I get a cookie?” Cordy asked with false enthusiasm.

Wesley ignored her as he searched the dusty old texts, “I think…I recognize the language…I just can’t recall the translation…something about…the Ach’ieri race?…no…no…maybe it was…” Wesley trailed off, as he got more involved in searching for the translation.

“Well while Watcher-boy does his research thing, what do we do now?” Gunn asked Fred, Cordy and Lorne.

“How about we watch Cordy have a vision?” Fred replied, her eyes wide.

“Woah! Cordelia?” Gunn waved his hand in front of Cordelia’s face.

Cordelia was sitting stock still, her eyes locked straight ahead of her and her skin slightly glow-y. To say the least, she looked creepy.

“It means ‘Savior’.” Cordelia said lucidly, her eyes still unfocused.

“I-I beg your pardon?” Wesley’s head appeared from behind a large stack of tomes and manuscripts, looking very interested.

Cordelia’s glowy-ness wore off and her trance went with it.

“Ahmshe’ir… It means ‘The Savior’.” Cordelia said sounding puzzled about her own ‘vision’.

Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne all exchanged puzzled glances.

* * *

Sunnydale, the Summer’s residence…


The group was sitting on the couch, laughing about the noises from the forest as King Arthur’s men built the Giant wooden Rabbit.

“Spike and I used to made up our own versions of the ‘Trojan Rabbit’.” Dawn giggled at the memory. Everyone gave her a puzzled look, so she clarified.

“We made stuff up…changed the dialog. Like Buffy would say ‘…If we built a giant wooden vampire!’” Dawn said.

“Oh I get it!” Xander said. “…If we built a giant wooden stake!”

“That’s redundant.” Giles muttered.

“Exactly!” Dawn laughed.

“Oh, I got one! …If we built a giant wooden Fyarl demon!” Willow said.

“I bloody well think not!” Giles said sourly.

“…If we built a Giant wooden bottle of holy water!” Buffy giggled.

“…If we built a Giant wooden Rabbit!” Anya exclaimed, but her face fell when everyone frowned. “What? It’s scary.”

“…If we built a giant wooden Key!” Dawn sniggered.

“…If we built a giant wooden frog!” Willow said while trying to control her laughter.

“…If we built a giant wooden Transvestite!” Tara giggled, and Giles raised his eyebrows.

“…If we built a Giant wooden pack of condoms!” Dawn laughed. When everyone turned wide eyes to her she blushed. “What? It was Spike’s joke. You know…the ’Trojan condom’? It’s a mental image thing.”

Everyone looked stunned for a moment as they pictured it, but then started laughing uncontrollably.

“…If we built a giant wooden dildo!” Tara shouted out unexpectedly, which caused the whole room to burst into laughter again.

“Tara!” Willow exclaimed and turned a bright shade of red, but giggled none-the less.

“I like how the lesbian thinks honey.” Anya nodded encouragingly to Xander.

“…If we built a giant wooden Death Star!” Jonathan exclaimed, but the laughter died out. “What? You know, a giant…wooden… Death Star?…Enterprise?… Shuttle-pod one? Work with me people!”

* * *

L.A., the Hyperion Hotel Lobby…

“Work with me people!” Cordelia exclaimed in frustration. Wesley, Lorne, Fred and Gunn all gave her blank looks. Cordy sighed. “Okay, I’ll go over it again! This is what I saw:

There was a middle-aged English Guy dressed in tweed. He was a Watcher, obviously. He cast this Spell that trapped him inside a book…”

“Transmogrification.” Wesley said. “It means to change into a different shape or form, usually one that is fantastic or bizarre.”

“Yeah, that.” Cordelia continued, “ Then next thing I know, I’m looking at the blank pages of the book. Suddenly words appear on the page, like an invisible hand is writing it. First it’s all jumbled and looks like its written in a different language, but then it suddenly translates and makes sense…” Cordelia paused a moment to recall the text, but suddenly her trance took her over, and she began reciting the prophecy, complete with an eerie sounding voice:

“Ahmshe’ir (The Savior) Prophecy

And so forth from the shadows and the light within the Valley of the Sun, there shall come unto us a new hope. The Ahmshe'ir shall be brought forth, born of the Dead With Heart and the Gift of Death, the Ahmshe'ir shall have the life gifted to it from both sides. And though innocent born, through it's actions, all of the lines of fate shall be shifted forever more.

But as with all lines drawn into the sands of time, the changes wrought by the Ahmshe'ir shall be fragile and all too easily erased. With the drawing of these new lines, shall the old ones be erased, and new enemies and friends both be made. Even as those who before would attack the righteous shall now lie down in peace with their enemies, and those who have only watched before shall now rise up to attack. Only by the efforts of all those trapped within the Valley of the Sun in it's days before it's setting, shall all be saved once more. Guided by the Gift of Death and the Dead With Heart this new Hope shall bring forth the new era in time to see the Sun rise upon it's Valley once more. Led by the Ahmshe'ir shall the good once more emerge from the ashes after the fires of fate sweep through.”

Cordelia snapped out of the trance, blinking rapidly. “Hey that was creepy…yet cool.”

“Have we ever found a prophecy that’s not vague?” Gunn complained.

“...And those who have only watched before shall now rise up to attack…sounds familiar, doesn’t it Wesley?” Angel’s grim voice from the entranceway startled everyone.

“Angel!” Cordy gasped.

Wesley looked a bit stricken, but tried to explain. “Angel, I-“

“Don’t. Don’t give me any excuses. I don’t want to hear them.” Angel stalked over to Wesley and growled, “Get. Out.”

Wesley looked for a moment like he was going to do just that, but then he straightened and looked Angel in the eye. “No. They asked for my help, so I’m going to give it.”

Angel’s anger flared as he saw the guilty looks on the group’s faces. “YOU CALLED HIM?!” Angel fixed his gaze on Cordy.

“She didn’t. I did.” Gunn said.

Angel turned his furious glare at Gunn. “You’re fired.”

Gunn rolled his eyes, “Please, sing me a new one.”

“Angel, cut it out! Quit acting like a baby.” Cordelia admonished, “Sure Wesley did something totally unforgivable, like steal your son….and I’m not helping anything by bringing that up…but if you’ll just listen to-” Cordelia started to ramble.

“Cordelia!!” Angel cut her off.

“OH GROW UP ANGEL!” Cordelia shouted, finally loosing her temper. “Get over it! Connor is back, and he’s alive! So what if Wesley was tricked by a false Prophecy! He was doing what he thought was right! He was trying to save your son! We *all* would have done the same thing if we were in his position.”

“You would?” Wesley asked hopefully, but quickly shut up after seeing the murderous glare Cordelia was giving him.

“And guess what man, this isn’t just about *you*,” Gunn said to Angel, “Wesley is here because he’s the only one that could explain Cordelia’s vision. Spike is in trouble. Something nasty is brewing here bro, and we’re talking big nasty. We’re going to need all the help we can get on this one. Now are you going to help or are you going to get in the way?”

Angel looked long and hard in the faces of his friends…and decided.

* * *

Spike’s Cell…


“I’ve come to a decision, Mr. Spike.” Quentin said. He was sitting in his usual chair, one leg crossed over the other looking perfectly smug. Spike wanted to bash his face in.

“Good for you. Shall I bake you a cake for the occasion? Say, can I borrow a cup of Cyanide?” Spike laughed maniacally at his own joke.

Quentin’s face remained perfectly humor-less. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you are being entirely uncooperative in answering our questions-“

“What was your first hint Sherlock?” Spike snorted.

“So I’ve decided to try a new course of… persuasion.” Quentin continued.

“Fabulous,” Spike replied listlessly, “So get on with it then…I’ve got a busy day and all… gotta keep my schedule…can’t keep the Queen waiting.”

“Sarcasm will get you nowhere Mr. Spike.” Quentin stood from his chair.

“Well if it chafes your knickers a bit, then it gets me pretty far if you ask me.” Spike chuckled cheerily.

"Very well, if that is the way you want to play it.” Quentin said with an evil grin that made even Spike flinch at it’s meaning.

* * *

The Training room of the Magic Box…


“Alright Jonathan…tell me what can be used as a weapon in this room.” Giles asked.

Dawn and Buffy were sitting on the couch watching as the ex-Watcher coached Jonathan. He was sitting on a chair in the center of the room while Rupert walked patient circles around him.

“Um…well...” Jonathan stammered and looked around the room. They had removed all the obvious weapons, leaving only Buffy’s training equipment. “The…uh, chair?”

“Good. Anything else?” Giles asked.

Jonathan looked around again, scrutinizing everything in the room…and came up empty. Jonathan shook his head, and Giles sighed.

“There are at least half a dozen weapons you could use right in front of your eyes.” He said impatiently.

“Like what?” Jonathan looked around the room again, wondering what they saw that he didn’t.

“The table…” Giles pointed out the small table stacked with books a few feet away.

“The heavy books on top of the table…” Dawn chimed in.

“Dawn’s backpack…” Buffy added.

“The mirror on the wall, break it, and you have several shards to chose from…” Giles said.

“Your shirt…”Buffy pointed out.

“That set of meditation crystals sitting in the corner…” Dawn gestured to them.

“Alright! I get it.” Jonathan sighed.

“No, I don’t think you do. You must see every object around you as a potential weapon, from the punching bag, right down to the shirt on your own back. Improvising can save your life, because most often than not, your enemy will not be expecting to be attacked with a shirt.” Giles lectured.

“Or a book.” Buffy added wryly.

::Speaking of books:: A voice out of the blue appeared in all of their thoughts, and made them all jump about a foot in the air. ::Oh, how terrible of me, I startled all of you.:: everyone heard the voice with a very dry English accent chuckle.

“Giles! Did you hear that?!” Buffy asked him, slightly pale. The Watcher himself had paled considerably.

::Oh, do forgive me my dear girl, I’ve not introduced myself. My name is Nigel Hawthorne.::

“NIGEL?” Dawn gasped and ran over to her book bag, pulling the leather bound journal out and opened the pages. Nothing had changed though.

::I told you that if I ever had anything to say, I’d let you know.:: Nigel said, clearly amused at their surprise.

“Great, now you can talk.” Dawn sighed at the journal.

::I could always talk my dear, it just takes more energy for telepathy. I assure you, I can’t do this all the time.::

“Dawn, what’s going on?” Buffy asked, slightly annoyed. Slowly and painstakingly (with plenty Harry Potter references) Dawn told them how she came across the journal (Giles had looked a bit abashed that he had given Dawn the journal rather carelessly), and with running commentaries from Nigel, she told them the whole story.

::Which brings me to the reason why I’m contacting all of you in this manner. There is a matter of grave importance that needs to be confronted.:: Nigel said to all of them. It took them a minute to get used to listening to an inanimate object speak inside their heads, but they listened nonetheless. ::Buffy, this will be incredibly hard for you to deal with I’m afraid, but some things must be said…haven’t you ever wondered why there just so happened to be members of the Council ‘out and about’ the night that your Vampire lover was dispatched?::

Buffy just barely managed to bite back her anger. Spike was more than just my lover. He was an ally. He was a friend. He was a father figure to Dawn. He *is* the father of my daughter. She thought.

::I understand your anger Ms. Summers, but really, I’m not the one you need to convince. In fact, I’m on your side.:: Nigel said. Buffy was pretty sure Nigel was only speaking in her mind at the moment, because the others didn’t seem to register the comment.

Damn. He can read my thoughts?! Buffy grumbled. She heard him chuckle.

:: I am terribly sorry to intrude upon your private thoughts, but there are more pressing matters at hand…like the fact that you have not answered my question.::

Buffy bit back another stab of anger. “No, I guess I never really thought about it.”

::And you Mr. Giles?:: Nigel asked him.

Giles blanched and stammered an excuse about the circumstances. Then Nigel must have said something to Giles alone, because the Watcher paled even more.

“Are you saying the Council purposely came to Sunnydale to get rid of Spike?” Giles asked

::No Mr. Giles…I’m saying that the Council came to Sunnydale to *remove* Spike.::

Giles removed his glasses. “Dear God, you’re not suggesting…”

“What Giles?” Buffy asked, clearly annoyed by the ‘private Watcher talk’.

Giles turned to Buffy, with a look on his face she had never seen before. Apparently Nigel said something else only to Giles. Worry, sympathy, hope, sorrow and shock were just a few words to describe the very mixed emotions that played across his features.

“Buffy…” Giles said quietly, “Spike is still alive.”

* * *

TBC...

Next Chapter: Illusions

*Author's note* Yet again, I appologize for the lateness of this chapter. Not like anyone cares though. If I *do* have fans out there I wouldn't know because I haven't had any reviews. :-( Anyways, enough wallowing in self pity, Chapter six will be out shortly I hope. PLEASE review...I'm starting to wonder weather I should continue this series because I'm getting no feedback. I *was* planing on doing one more fic in the series after this, but I might just end it with this one. I was planing on having the next one NC-17 as well...with more of the NC-17 parts. What do you guys think?

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