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Chapter 25: Quentin and conundrums

Quentin Travers sat in his hotel room, alone. The sweeper team had been dismantled for now. The slayer and her lover had survived and seemed to have become stronger. It was apparent by the surveillance tape that not only had the vampire attacked the slayer and bitten her, but she has lived to tell about it. At the end of his tether, Quentin ran his hands over his face. This slayer should never have been called in the first place. Her insolence and insubordination littered her career as a slayer. She took not one but TWO demon lovers and felt no remorse for that fact. Her Watcher wasn’t much better. He entertained her wishes and desires like she was his own child.

The only silver lining was that Buffy Summers was not the ONLY slayer. It was pure luck that the new slayer came to check in with Mr. Giles the night he was pretending to leave town. She seemed skittish, like all new slayers. It was so easy to convince her to kill the vampire lover. A little fork lore, a little truth and she bended to do his bidding. That’s how good little slayers should behave, following orders without question. It was almost too easy. Sure, she was confused and insisted that Spike wouldn’t hurt anyone that wasn’t threatening Buffy, but in the end she took the dart gun filled with poison.

Quentin got up from his position on the bed and went over to the window. Sunnydale seemed quiet tonight; the town always seemed quiet compared to towns without an active hellmouth. He felt it deep in his bones that something was about to happen, something not good. Sighing, Quentin turned his back to the window and looked around the cheap motel room. The threadbare cover on the bed looked like it was created by baby puke. He really should head out of town, but he had to wait, wait for Katerina to finish the job. It would be so easy for her to get close enough to be able to fire and not miss. Buffy and Spike trusted her, thought she was on their side instead of the right side. Stupid Buffy, time had not made her smart, if she was she would know he hadn’t left and the threat wasn’t over.

A small knock on his door broke Quentin out of his reverie. Glancing at the clock and noting the late hour, Quentin opened the door. Before he had the lock clicked open, the door flew open and he had a mass of snarling muscles on top of him. Landing on the sharp edge of a dresser, Quentin shouted out in pain and fell to the ground. The mass that toppled on top of the stout man, pulled back to reveal himself: a vamped out Spike. Walking into the room calmly, Buffy and Giles closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Quentin’s prone body. “And here I thought you left town without saying goodbye, tsk, tsk.”

“Miss Summers, I should have guessed you would let this happen.” Spike snarled and bared his pearly fangs at the offending man.

“Pu-lease, Spike has better taste that that. I don’t think he would sully his taste buds with the likes of you.” She bared her neck, showing off Spike’s claim, and moved her fingertips over the puncture marks. “I am sure he would rather have much more pleasant things in his mouth.” The double meaning was not lost on Spike who almost ruined the whole intimidation bit by laughing. “Anyways, it would be awful for Spike to ingest something so poisonous.” Giles took out the dart gun that Katerina was supposed to have used and handed it over to Buffy. She gave him a grateful glance and then aimed the gun at Quentin .

“You don’t want to do that, Miss Summers.” Quentin stuttered out. Spike looked down at his prey and smiled. The scent of fear was heavy in the air.

“I’m not so sure. You see, Quentin,” she stood up and paced in front of Quentin and Spike, “I don’t like people that try to hurt my family and friends, and you,” Buffy stopped pacing and aimed the gun at Quentin, “SIR, have done both.”

“If I promise to not try to harm you or your family and friends again, will you let me go?”

“An interesting proposition, don’t you think boys?” Spike grunted and dug his claws into Quentin’s shoulders for emphasize.

Giles took off his glasses and started to rub them with his special cloth. “I’m not so sure, Buffy, he’s agreed before to things of that nature, but he never quite keeps the bargain, does he?” Buffy stopped and pretended to ponder the situation. To the outside observer, it seemed like a very serious situation, but inside Spike and Buffy’s mind they were laughing their heads off. Spike kept suggesting ways in how to remove the stick up Quentin’s ass. Vivid pictures entered Buffy’s mind and almost couldn’t hold her gaiety in.

“That’s right, Giles. Quentin doesn’t respect me and any agreement he would make, he probably wouldn’t hold up to.” Buffy aimed the gun back at Quentin. “So that leaves me with one choice.” She made sure the air chamber was filled, it would be such a nuisance that it wouldn’t fire and she would have to charge the contraption.

“WAIT!” Quentin bucked up, freeing himself from Spike’s grasp. Spike stood up in front of the door, the only escape route and waited calmly.

“What is it Quentin?” Buffy sounded irritated.

“I’ll do anything you want me to do. ANYTHING, please! I’ll sign whatever document, you can have your friend perform a spell to make sure I can’t threaten you again. Whatever, I will do it.”

“Anything?” Spike spoke up. His smirk lay perfectly in place between his ridges and fangs, making him seem so much more dangerous.

“Yes, please. Miss Summers.” Quentin almost got on his hands and knees in front of Buffy.

“Giles, the phone.” Giles handed over the cell phone Buffy had. She, in turn, handed the phone over to Quentin. “Call the council and resign.” Quentin looked up dumbfounded. “Furthermore, everyone in charge of the council that is not a slayer or slayer approved will resign.”

“You can’t do that!” Quentin lunged forward, but Spike saw it coming and was already holding the man’s fat body back.

“You said anything, Quentin. These are not recommendations or up for negotiation. You and the rest of the council will step down. In turn, the current slayer and her watcher will preside over the council. You may remain on the council’s payroll to insure a smooth transition, but you will not be in power.”

“Miss Summers!”

“Those are what gets you out of town alive. Anything less is unacceptable. Call them and let them know they will resign from the main council. Giles and I will take charge. After a full review of the council we will either reinstate those that stepped down or fire them completely.”

“You can’t play with people’s lives like this! That is our livelihood!”

“How about MY livelihood? You never cared if I was homeless or not!” Looking over at Giles, she continued, “How about Giles, you fired him on a whim! That was his livelihood, too and YOU didn’t care.” She leveled her gaze onto Quentin, “It’s not like I am throwing you out without a penny. We will evaluate the council and see what we can do.” Quentin sputtered, he knew he would have to do this, but it was just so wrong. “Look, Quentin. I’m tired and cranky. I don’t want to punish you; I just want the slayers to be in charge of their lives. They need support that the current council is not giving.” Buffy ran her hand down her face in frustration. “Are you going to call or do we have to dig a while before daylight?”

“Give me the bloody phone, Miss Summers.”

The END

Next in series: London Forever. Also tehre is a short PWP Interlude called Over the Atlantic





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