A/N: Here’s the rest of the OKS chapter. I’m sorry to say it’s not the only time I got carried away at the keyboard while working on this story, but at least the other chapters were well-trained enough to break better. Bad, chapter, bad!
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Chapter Three
Giles waited until everyone was seated, except for Spike, who folded his arms and leaned against the door jamb. When they were all looking at him expectantly, he cleared his throat. “Yes, well…I received a phone call this morning from an old friend, Roger Kensington. Roger is an expert in the field of antiquities, particularly those of a somewhat…mystical…nature. He contacted me because he has learned that the museum here in Sunnydale will be hosting a traveling exhibit featuring an ancient artifact, the Ag-rith-h’lal Oo-jah’ri-m’shik.”
Xander shook his head. “Okay, now you’re just showing off.”
“Loosely translated, it could be taken as ‘all things possible,’ although there is considerable debate as to the exact meaning. The object is currently on loan from Ethiopia, once known as Abyssinia, and has been traced back as far as the early kingdom of Axum.”
“The kingdom of what?” Buffy asked.
“Axum.”
“Gesundheit! ” Dawn chirped from the sofa, then slouched down as Giles regarded her with a level stare. “I thought it was funny,” she grumbled to Tara, who gave her a consoling pat on the shoulder.
“If I may continue…there is very little known about the early Axumite kingdom, though it is believed this artifact may pre-date even that period.”
Buffy frowned. “And why are we worried about this…this…Aggie-whatsawhosit?”
“It’s not so much the artifact itself that poses a threat, but a suspected plot to steal it and revive its dormant powers through a blood ritual performed on the eve of Denrothe, a sacred day for the Ancient Ones. Which, coincidentally, happens to be tonight.”
“Wait…back up a minute.” Xander held up his hand. “Tonight is which one of those?”
“I’m guessing the ‘eve’ part,” Willow ventured, with a nod of confirmation from Giles.
“Oh, goodie,” Xander said. “Because it would’ve been so disappointing if we’d missed it. We might actually have had a safe, uneventful evening, and who needs that?”
“So who or what wants to steal it?” Dawn asked.
“I’m afraid Roger hasn’t been able to ascertain much in that regard. He only knows that an attempt will be made and that it will definitely occur tonight.”
“Unless we stop it,” Tara added. “You have a plan?”
Giles nodded. “There’s a fund-raising gala at the museum tonight with the Ag-rith-h’lal Oo-jah’ri-m’shik as the featured attraction. It’s an extremely valuable artifact; therefore, the security surrounding the exhibit has been exceptionally tight. It will no doubt continue to be so. Our best course of action is to attend the gala, then position ourselves strategically and wait for the museum to close.”
“You mean hide,” Xander stated.
Giles sighed. “Isn’t that what I said?”
“No, you said—”
“Pity to interrupt this earth-shatterin’ debate, but Rupert still hasn’t answered the Slayer’s question, has he?” Spike pushed himself away from the doorjamb, moving to stand beside Buffy’s chair. “We know what it’s called, but we don’t know what it is or what it does or why we should be worried about it.”
Xander nodded. “Not to mention how a big, important exhibit like that winds up in little ol’ Sunnydale.” He eyed Spike. “Funny how bad things just seem to show up here, isn’t it?”
Buffy glanced up in time to see Spike blow a mocking kiss to Xander, which certainly wasn’t the response he’d intended, judging by the sour expression on Xander’s face. Though Dawn swore the two had tolerated each other surprisingly well over the summer, Buffy had seen no sign of it since her return.
“All very valid questions,” Giles said dryly, “which I might have answered by now if not for the constant interruptions and staggering lack of focus in the room. Perhaps you could all manage to restrain yourselves for at least the next five minutes?” Glancing around at the now-silent Scoobies, he nodded. “Now, to address Spike’s points, the ‘what’ is an obelisk that, as I said, pre-dates the early Axumite kingdom. It’s small, as such objects go…only a few feet taller than a man, but it’s made of solid granite. And, according to Roger, it’s indestructible.”
Xander raised his hand.
“Yes, Xander?” Giles asked wearily.
“That would only be a problem if we wanted to destroy it, which I’m guessing we do. But for those of us who actually live in the 21st century, define ‘obelisk.’”
Buffy watched as Giles placed the book he’d been holding on the coffee table, letting it fall open to a page marked by a faded red ribbon. “An obelisk is a four-sided pillar with carvings, generally made to honor a specific person or event. The purpose was frequently sepulchral.”
Again, Xander’s hand shot up.
“It means related to a burial,” Willow whispered. “Sort of like a monument or a headstone.”
With an “ah” expression, Xander nodded and lowered his hand.
Giles gave him a sour glance before forging ahead. “The illustration in this book depicts an obelisk very similar to the Ag-rith-h’lal. In this particular case, it was part of a structure that included several such pillars, complete with sacrificial alters. Ritual sacrifices were performed for any number of reasons – as an offering to ancestors, for instance. And we know that the ancient Sabeans who lived in that area were heavily involved in astral worship, which also required sacrifices.
“As to why it’s here in Sunnydale, apparently someone arranged for the museum to be included on the tour. One would assume our proximity to the Hellmouth has something to do with it, but at this point there’s no way to be certain of anything. Apart from one thing.” Removing his glasses, Giles stared at them all with a deathly calm air. “The Ag-rith-h’lal is arguably the single most powerful weapon in existence. If we fail to stop whatever is planned for tonight, we could be facing a total disruption of life as we know it. The world could be irrevocably altered.”
Nothing but silence as seconds ticked by. Xander raised his hand.
Giles sighed deeply. “Xander,” he acknowledged, patiently stopping just short of an eye-roll.
“If world-altering includes making a certain overdue library fine disappear, I’m thinkin’ that might not be a bad thing.” Looking around, he shrugged. “I’m just sayin’.”
“What are we talking about, Giles?” Buffy asked. “What exactly does this thing do?”
He met her gaze evenly. “Anything that is asked of it. Literally. Provided the appropriate ritual has been performed.”
“Anything?” Dawn asked. “Anything anything? You mean, like…” Her voice trailed off as the implications sank in.
“I mean that when the ritual is performed and a request is made, that request will be granted. No exceptions, no limitations. As the name indicates…‘all things possible.’”
“Well, that just opens up a whole realm of unpleasantness, now doesn’t it?” Spike commented from the sidelines.
Buffy noticed Willow chewing on her lip. “What is it, Will?”
“Does it have to?” Willow asked, forehead crinkling in a slight frown. “Be unpleasant, I mean. Couldn’t the obelisk be used for good just as easily as bad?”
“You mean like wishing away world hunger or asking for global peace? That sort of thing?” Dawn asked.
“Or, hey! Here’s an idea,” Xander chimed in, voice dry. “We could make a world without demons and then we wouldn’t have to have conversations like this.”
“Oi! Standin’ right here, you know,” Spike objected, glaring.
“It doesn’t matter,” Giles overrode them. “Utilizing such forces is far too dangerous, no matter what the ultimate goal may be. The possible benefits will never outweigh the risks, something we should all have learned by now.”
There was a slight edge to Giles’ voice that Buffy didn’t hear very often, and she wondered if Willow had noticed.
“You were telling us the plan?” Tara prompted gently, intentionally or unintentionally steering the conversation into safer waters.
“Yes, thank you, Tara.” Giles nodded, but his gaze lingered on Willow. “Once the gala has ended, we shall position ourselves to wait for the unknown party to make his move.”
“Like a stakeout,” Dawn offered helpfully.
Giles responded with a faint smile. “That is one colorful way of putting it,” he conceded before turning to Buffy. “I’ve managed to procure floor plans for the museum. There’s a very convenient utility closet in the area where the artifact will be on display. You and Spike will be stationed there.”
Buffy looked from Spike, whose attention was now totally riveted on Giles, back to her Watcher. “What about the rest of you?” she asked. “Won’t you be there, too?”
“It’s a rather small closet, I’m afraid. There isn’t enough room for more than two people. For obvious reasons, you and Spike are the logical choices. There’s also Spike’s ability to hear what we can’t, which should allow him to detect any suspicious activity in the exhibit hall, even from inside the utility closet. Willow and I will be nearby in one of the wash rooms located in a corridor off the main exhibit area. She’ll be close enough to perform a basic warding spell that should prevent the security patrols from checking either the closet or the wash room.”
“What about me?” Dawn asked, bouncing on the sofa, eyes large and hopeful. “Where do I get to hide?”
Giles gazed at her sternly. “You don’t. You’ll be here.”
Dawn’s face fell. “Crap.”
“Dawn,” Buffy warned.
“What? It’s not a bad word! Not even close. I could’ve said ‘bugger.’ Spike says –”
“I don’t care what Spike says,” Buffy interrupted, sending a pointed glare his way. “We’re not having this argument again.”
As Dawn flopped down on the sofa in a huff and Spike tried to look innocent of any and all bad influences, Buffy noticed Willow standing off to one side, frowning and biting her lip. “Will? Is something wrong?”
Willow’s troubled gaze fixed on Giles as the others turned to look at her. “Which one?”
“Pardon?” Giles seemed lost.
“Which one – the men’s room or the women’s room?”
Giles looked even more puzzled. “Either one, I suppose. Does it matter?”
“Well, sure! I mean, when one of us is a boy and one of us is a girl…it kinda does!” Dead silence greeted her statement. A blush colored her cheeks and her gaze dropped. “Okay, I just regressed to kindergarten, didn’t I?” she mumbled in a small voice.
“Nah!” Xander shook his head, throwing his arm around her for a quick, reassuring squeeze. “Third grade at the most.”
“Yes…well…I assure you there’s no need for concern,” Giles said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “We’ll merely be hiding there for a short time. Whichever one you prefer will be perfectly fine.”
Willow smiled, looking sheepish but relieved.
“Delicate sensibilities aside, if we’re all scattered around, we’ll need a way to signal each other,” Xander pointed out. “What’s the plan for that?”
“That won’t a problem,” Willow poo-pooed, her face lighting up. “We’ll just do it the way we did over the summer.” Looking at Buffy, she grinned. “It’s kinda neat. I talk to people in their heads, and they can talk to me. That’s how we did the slaying when you were gone. Ooh! Hey! I bet I could make it so we could all talk to each other! Then we could hold secret conversations all the time and nobody would ever know.”
Giles frowned. “Thank you, Willow, but that won’t be necessary. A three-way link will be quite sufficient.”
Again Buffy caught the edge in her Watcher’s tone. This time she could tell that Willow had, too. Her friend’s gaze dropped, and even though she said nothing, her mouth was pressed into a thin, flat line. But, almost faster than Buffy could process the change, Willow seemed to shrug it off, raising her chin. When her clear gaze met Buffy’s, she was happy Willow again, as guileless and easygoing as ever.
Buffy blinked at the abrupt transformation, so swift and subtle she wondered if it had really happened.
“When you receive Buffy’s signal,” Giles added, “just pass it on to Xander.”
“Yeah. Because we all know how much I love being mentally violated,” Xander said, nodding solemnly. He turned to Giles. “Which brings us to the question…what’s the plan for the rest of us?”
All eyes were focused on the Watcher again. “As I said, Dawn, of course, will remain here.” His stern gaze cut off any further protests the teenager might have made. “Tara, would you mind staying with her? We should be back before sunrise.”
Spike snorted. “Bloody well hope so.”
Giles ignored him, waiting only for Tara’s nod before continuing. “Xander and Anya will procure a rental truck large enough to transport the obelisk, then wait for us near the loading bay. As soon as we’ve secured the artifact and dealt with any difficulties that may arise, Buffy and Spike will carry it out to the truck.”
Buffy’s eyes again sought out Spike. He had left his post by the door and settled himself on the arm of the sofa where a disgruntled Dawn was still sitting. His attention was focused not on Buffy or on the briefing Giles was giving them, but on her sister. She watched as his hand reached over to tug gently on a strand of Dawn’s hair. When she glanced up, Spike winked at her. A radiant smile bloomed on her face, erasing the pout. It drew an answering smile and approving nod from Spike.
Feeling like an intruder, Buffy looked away. The affection between them was obvious, and the bond they had forged in her absence over the summer was another thing she hadn’t wanted to think about. Somewhere along the way, Spike’s protectiveness toward Dawn had become less about his promise to Buffy and more about his own personal feelings.
That shouldn’t have been possible. But it was, and it made her just as unsettled as everything else about him these days.
“So what happens to it once we’ve got it?” Tara’s question pulled everyone’s attention back to the planning session. “If it’s indestructible, like your friend said? It’s going to be a threat no matter where it is.”
“Quite right, Tara,” Giles said, nodding. “Fortunately for us, however, Roger has the resources to keep it well guarded until he can perform a cleansing ritual that will forever render it harmless. It may take some time. Several of the items needed for the ritual are rare and nearly impossible to find, but he assures me he is quite close to locating everything he needs.”
“You trust him?” Buffy asked.
“I do. Absolutely. And…we have little choice. We cannot leave it where it is, and we can’t guard it ourselves indefinitely. We shall take the obelisk and rendezvous with Roger at an appointed spot in the desert to place it in his care.”
“Going undercover, a daring museum heist, desert rendezvous…is anyone besides me getting turned on?” Xander grinned.
“I don’t like it!” Anya, who’d been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. “It’s not fair! You all get to drink champagne and wear pretty dresses and dance the night away, while Xander and I have to sit outside in a dirty old truck. Not drinking or wearing pretty dresses or dancing at all.”
“Just so you know, Rupert?” Spike drawled. “I draw the line at wearin’ a dress.” Dawn giggled, and Spike smirked.
Giles removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose as a weary sigh escaped him. “Dawn, please don’t encourage him,” he entreated, then turned back to the group. “Anya, do be reasonable about this. Not all of us are needed inside, and it’s vital that we have the truck waiting. Besides, four tickets were all I could obtain at such late notice.”
“Fine!” Anya sniffed. “Then let Willow sit in the truck. I don’t see why she gets to have all the fun.”
“Anya…honey…” Xander began, but an indignant Willow interrupted him.
“Hey! Casting a warding spell isn’t all ‘la, la, la,’ no matter what some people think. It takes hard work and a lot of concentration!”
Before Anya could reply, Giles jumped into the fray. “There’s no point in arguing about this! In order to perform the spell properly, and for it to have the maximum effect, Willow must be in close proximity to the area. I’m sorry, Anya, but you can either wait outside with Xander or remain here with Tara and Dawn.”
Anya clearly wasn’t pleased with the choices. She folded her arms, a mulish expression settling over her face. “Willow’s not the only one who can do magic,” she pointed out.
“No,” Giles said, drawing out the word in a clear effort to hold on to his patience. “But she is—”
“Demon girl has a point,” Spike broke in. Giles glared, Anya beamed, and everyone else looked surprised. “You lot are always tellin’ everybody what to do, like it’s a bloody dictatorship or something. I say if Anya wants to get all dolled up and kick up her heels a little, you should let her.”
Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he tilted his head and gazed at her through narrowed eyes. “’S a shame, though. When you stop to think about it.”
Anya’s smile dimmed. “Shame?” she asked. “There’s shame? What shame?”
“Oh…uh, nothin’ much.” Spike shrugged. “It’s just…well, money’s been tight around here and a truck like that won’t come cheap. Someone like you, with your head for business…bet you could have bartered them down a penny or two. But ’m sure Harris and Red will do the best they can. It’ll work out all right.”
Anya froze, eyes widening in alarm. “No! No, you’re right! Rental agencies are evil! They have all kinds of secret clauses, and hidden penalties, and unnecessary fees. I’ll have to go with them to make sure they’re not taken advantage of!”
Spike looked sympathetic but shook his head. “Can’t, pet. Won’t have time to do that and get yourself all gussied up for tonight. Don’t fret your head about it. Shouldn’t even have brought it up. I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he added, his tone clearly implying otherwise.
Anya went from distressed uncertainty to steely determination in less than sixty seconds. “No,” she said firmly. “Thank you, Spike, but I see now where I’m really needed. I could never forgive myself if I let them go in alone and something terrible happened.” She turned to Willow, smiling indulgently. “Willow, you may go to the gala and have your meaningless fun. I have important things to do.”
Willow stared. “Oookay. Um…if you’re sure…”
“Quite sure,” Anya said, resolute now. She frowned at the Watcher. “Really, Giles, I’m sure you didn’t want to hurt their feelings by explaining the real reason you wanted me to go with Xander, but you could have told me before the meeting. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
Buffy saw Giles lock gazes with Spike, his head nodding a faint and reluctant acknowledgment. The vampire shrugged.
“Of course, you are,” Giles responded evenly, his gaze shifting back to Anya. “It was very foolish of me. Terribly sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Anya assured him. “I accept your apology, and I know you won’t let it happen again.”
Bemused, Buffy glanced back at Spike only to catch him watching her with a strange expression on his face. As their eyes met, his gaze warmed and his full lips curved with the ghost of a smile. She couldn’t help but smile back before she caught herself, looking quickly around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, no one had. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to calm the strange fluttering in her stomach and risked another glance.
He was gone.
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TBC in Part 4
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