Chapter 16
As Spike had suspected getting into the
building had been easy. He'd arrived about eleven o'clock
and made his way up the fire escape, stopping for a cigarette
whenever anyone from the building might spot his upward
movement. When he got to the floor he wanted, he simply
had a few cigarettes and waited. When someone came out,
he threw away the remains of his cigarette, grabbed the
door before it could shut and walked in. Perhaps the suit
hadn't been such a waste of money after all.
About a quarter of the floor-space was
taken up by the administration workers and junior staff
working for the lawyers who had offices on this floor. Their
work area was divided up using five foot high partitions,
so that each desk was walled off on three sides, possibly
to provide some privacy, but more likely to make it more
difficult for the junior workers to talk to each other.
Spike picked an area where he couldn't see or hear anyone
working. He scanned a few of the cubicles, before he picked
one where the arrangement of the furniture provided an area
where he could wait out an hour or two without being easily
seen. He pulled a paperback from his pocket and settling
into his spot in the corner of the cubicle, he read until
the last person on that floor was leaving to go home. As
the lights were switched off he moved through the shadows,
getting as close as he dared to the final departing employee.
As far as he could tell, the employee did nothing to activate
any alarm before he left. Spike moved quickly to the light
switches and flashed the lights on and off a couple of times
before moving to the back door.
Giles who had been waiting for the signal
made his way up the fire escape and in through the door
which Spike opened for him. The pair had hidden again until
the guard completed his rounds. Spike had spotted several
sensors for the alarm system, concentrated around the exits,
which seemed to pick up infrared, but he had been able to
ensure that his movements would mask Giles'. Scanning through
the nameplates on the office doors taking up three of the
walls, he wasn't surprised that the name he wanted was on
the door of one of the corner suites.
Giles worked on picking the lock of the
office door. He was more than a little out of practice and
it was taking some time. "Refresh my memory as to why I'm
doing this again?"
"Because, Watcher, from what little I've
heard about your youthful indiscretions, you're probably
as good at it as I am, and my superior senses make me better
qualified as look-out."
"No, I mean why am I here at two in the
morning, with you, trying to break into this particular
office, out of all the possibles."
"Call it a hunch, Ripper."
It was more than a hunch. He'd phoned the
firm this morning and managed to trick the firm's receptionist
into telling him which partner dealt with Quentin Travers
affairs. He'd pretended that Travers had recommended his
lawyer to him, but he'd forgotten the name. He even had
an appointment set up for the week after next, but somehow
he didn't think he'd be keeping it. Of course, theoretically
even confirming that Quentin Travers was a client had been
a breach of client confidentiality, but he wasn't going
to complain.
Once Giles got the door open, Spike checked
the room for alarm sensors before the older man entered.
"Check the secretary's desk, see if she's
got some sort of list of client names and addresses. I'll
try the filing cabinets."
Spike was relieved to find that the filing
cabinets were unlocked and he quickly located a file with
Quentin Travers name on it. He had hoped to find surveillance
photographs and other materials, but all that the file contained
was copies of correspondence between Travers and the firm.
The letters were enough to confirm his suspicions.
Ronnie had bought the contract when it
came up for sale. When she had submitted her thesis, it
had been included as supporting documentation. Although
it rightfully belonged to her, personally, Quentin Travers
as the chairman of the committee reviewing the thesis had
procured the document and passed it on to the lawyers. He
had used the firm as agents when hiring the Order of Taraka,
being unwilling to deal with them directly. It also told
him that Isobel had been right. Sunnydale wasn't the only
place he'd had people under surveillance.
Giles had come through from the outer office
whilst Spike was still skimming through the file. Seeing
the expression on the vampire's face he waited for Spike
to finish reading before he interrupted.
"There are two or three people whose names
I recognise on this list. They all work for the council."
"Don't worry. I think we've got our man.
His address could be quite useful though." Spike passed
the file to Giles. "I think they must have some other stuff
stored somewhere else though. Photos, detective's reports
and things like that. I'm going to have a look around on
this floor. If we're lucky they'll be here rather than some
centralised storeroom. Stay in the office away from all
the sensors. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Spike did a quick circuit of the rooms
on that floor but was unable to find what he wanted. He
made a note of the information he wanted from the secretary's
records and then got Giles to put the list back where it
came from. The file on Quentin Travers he kept in its entirety.
Until they had reason to use that particular file they would
never even notice there was one missing. Fortunately the
lock on the office was a Yale type, so it was easy to lock
it again when they had finished.
Spike headed for the side of the building
where the stairwell was situated but hadn't gone far before
he signalled to Giles to hide. The two moved into cover
with seconds to spare before the security guard appeared
again to do his rounds. He walked a slow circuit of the
floor, checking all the office doors were locked. He panned
his flashlight around the partitioned area in a half-hearted
manner before moving back to the stairs. As soon as he'd
gone Spike moved silently over to the door leading to the
stairwell. Listening carefully he determined when the guard
had moved onto the floor above. He motioned Giles over and
the two moved down to the floor one above the entry level
before the guard had time to finish his patrol of the floor
above.
"I assume you have some plan for us getting
out of here?" Giles whispered.
"Well, Watcher, that depends on how much
detail you want before you call something a plan." He sighed
and raised his eyebrow. "The alarms on the doors are probably
live by now. I'm hoping we can find a window that we can
get out of without it being too obvious, and if need be
if we do trip an alarm at least they shouldn't realise which
office we've been in."
He moved toward the back of the building
and was soon rewarded when he found a window that he could
open. Unfortunately all the ones near to the fire escape
had been nailed shut several coats of paint previously,
but those where the fire escape didn't provide easy access
hadn't been sealed. Spike checked for some sort of connection
to the alarm system, but found none. He opened the window
and looked out. There was a strip of grass about four feet
wide between the building and the car park.
"I think even you should be able to manage
that, if you hang by your fingers and drop. I'll go second,
that way I can hopefully push the window shut before I jump."
He stood back to let the watcher through.
Giles looked out the window. "You never
did give me a good reason why I'm here with you." He slid
one leg through the opening and sitting on the sill pulled
the other through.
"Because, Rupert, I thought you'd be a
bit more understanding about my killing your boss if you
were there when I found the evidence against him." Spike
replied to the figure who was now brushing himself off after
landing on the grass below.
Spike pulled himself through the window,
and balanced on the ledge while he tried to push the window
shut. At first he didn't think it was going to move but
when it did it shut with a slamming sound and Spike lost
his footing and landed on his back half on the grass below,
half on the car park. Pausing only to check the file was
still tucked in his waistband he grabbed Giles arm and pulled
him along behind as he ran to get clear of the area in case
one of the guards investigated.
"You knew before we went in there that
it was Quentin Travers." The watcher sounded more than a
little annoyed.
"Let's just say I had some very strong
suspicions, but no actual proof."
"So now that you have proof what do you
intend to do?"
"Try again tomorrow. See if I can find
the rest of it. The surveillance footage."
"And then?"
"Then Mr Travers and I are going to have
ourselves a little confrontation."
Spike poured a large measure of whisky
each and passed one to the watcher.
"You plan to kill him."
"Well, I could try taking him out for a
nice meal, maybe talk him round to my point of view, but
somehow I don't see that as a permanent solution." Spike
sighed. "Of course I'm going to kill him. It's him or me,
which one do you think I'm going to choose?"
"Are you even sure that killing him will
stop the Tarakans? The lawyers may see it carried through
even if something happens to him."
"Even Dru and Darla couldn't manage a whole
firm of lawyers in one sitting. I'll just have to try it
this way first."
"Buffy wouldn't approve of murder."
"You think I haven't considered that? I
just can't think of another way to settle this, and unless
you have some sort of plan I suggest you drop the subject,
or maybe you'd rather stake me yourself?"
The remark was made more in jest than as
a serious proposition but Spike watched the man and knew
that every instinct within him said the vampire should die.
That human life, whoever it may be, would always be worth
more than the existence of an undead fiend. A few months
of co-operation meant next to nothing compared to the mindset
developed over his entire adult life.
Spike realised that the man he'd come to
respect still regarded him as vermin. He absorbed the pain,
as he had so often since he crossed paths with Buffy and
her friends. "You've got the best part of two days to make
up your mind, Rupert. I can't hurt you. You know that if
anything happened to you it would all but finish her. It's
been bad enough for her just knowing you're so far away.
I guess you'll have to do what your conscience dictates."
Spike knocked back the remains of his drink
and then topped up both their glasses. Bravado won out over
prudence. "Maybe I should make the decision a bit easier
for you. Can't have you making a choice like this without
having all the facts. I figured she might want to tell you,
but I suppose the situation demands that I do the honours.
Buffy and I came to an agreement before I left Sunnydale.
To put it formally, she has agreed to let me pay court to
her."
Giles' face turned a shade nearer to purple
and Spike once again threw back the drink in his glass.
"How could you think you would ever deserve a girl like
that?"
"I don't think there's a bloody man alive
or otherwise who will ever deserve to even walk the same
planet as her, but I do think I could make her happy. The
girl needs a man who can stand next to her, not hide behind
her. She needs someone who can support her, not someone
she has to protect, and she needs someone who can understand
the darkness inside her and not condemn her for it. Now,
maybe I just helped you decide that I'm the one who has
to die, but I'm not going to have it said that I hid what
was happening from you. If you can't stand the thought of
my hands on your precious daughter then maybe you better
just take this and get it over with."
Spike pulled a stake from the waistband
of his trousers and sent it spinning across the desk between
the two.
"Hey, Buffster!" Xander pushed the back
door open. "Anybody, the school shuttle service is here!"
He wandered through to the living room in search of the
house's occupants, just as Buffy came down the stairs, her
hair still wet from the shower.
"Hi. We all slept in. Dawn'll be down in
a minute. D'you want some coffee?"
"Coffee is good. Caffeine makes me not
asleep. What's with the florist shop? Have you been keeping
secrets or is Richard getting paid more than I am?"
"N-no secrets and no Richard. I mean I
told Willow and Tara and Dawn but you were kind of not here,
b-but I thought someone would have told you."
Xander poured two coffees from the pot
on the counter. "It's no big, Buff. Things have been, well."
He shrugged, and gave a half smile that didn't reach his
eyes. "It's nice one of us is happy, I just wish it didn't
seem so much like we have to take it in turns. So spill.
Who is Mr Right and how d'ya meet him?"
"Em, well he saw me dust a vamp outside
the Bronze and then he introduced himself and said he'd
see me Saturday, but as I recall he turned up a day early
for Parent Teacher Night."
"Spike. You're kidding me right. You cannot
be saying that you're seeing that freak. Angel was bad enough
but at least he had a soul. All Spike has is a little bit
of plastic. How could you bear to let him touch you? He's
a fucking vampire. They're all psychotic murderers, yet
he's infamous even to them and you're going to let him put
his hands on you. You think the boy-scout act'll keep up
when that chip of his stops working. You think he'll still
be sending flowers when he's got you to open your legs for
him. You used to be creeped out by his twisted little obsession
now you-"
Xander was cut off by a scream almost in
the ultrasonic range.
"Get out, get out." Dawn had made it downstairs
in time to catch the end of this tirade. "If you're going
to come in here and insult people we care about then you
can just go right back out again. When Buffy was gone Spike
was the only person that was really there for me whenever
I needed him. He doesn't have some twisted obsession. He's
in love with Buffy and the sooner you get that clear the
happier everyone is going to be, but if you can't, just
stay away from this house and the people in it."
"Dawn." Both Buffy and Xander tried to
calm the teenager.
"Dawn, I know Spike kept you company and
whatnot but you can't forget that he's a soulless killer."
"Yeah, he hasn't changed at all has he,
Xander?" Dawn's voice was heavy with sarcasm. "You've killed
more people than he has in the last year than he has. You
and your singing, dancing demon that you were going to let
take me or Buffy if you hadn't been cornered into confessing.
But you've got a soul so you must be all right. He hasn't
so that makes him evil. Well, maybe that makes me evil too,
did you ever think of that. Did you ever wonder, maybe making
a body and some memories isn't so tricky, but a soul, how
can a blob of energy have a soul? Did anyone ever check?
That's it, I'm a little clepto. It must be because I'm evil
and soulless.
I'm the teenager, but you're the one who
needs to grow up. I would say that you can care about Anya
and she went round wreaking vengeance for ten times as long
as Spike's been a vampire but then you've treated her like
shit too. You're a hypocrite; no one's any good unless they're
human. Well, I know that Spike would die to protect me or
Buffy or probably even to protect the rest of you and I
seem to recall something from RE about greater love hath
no man but that he'd give up his life for another. Spike
would give up his life for us. You can't even give up your
prejudices."
Having temporarily run out of things to
say on the subject Dawn stormed out of the front door.
"Buffy, you know I'm just trying to help
you see things clearly. You can't want to be with that thing."
"Xander, Dawn was right. You may have helped
bring me back from the dead, but that doesn't give you the
right to tell me how to run my life, and if you want to
call yourself my friend don't even think about taking this
up with Spike, but if you do don't be surprised if he gives
as good as he gets. Go away and think about this and if
you really can't come to terms with it then I guess Dawn's
right and you're not welcome in this house."
She opened the back door and waited for
him to leave.
'Oh God. How often has it been me making
the remarks about Spike being soulless? How often have I
said stuff like that in front of Dawn?'
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