Where in the World is Buffy Summers – 8/12

This entry is part 3 of 7 in the series Where in the World is Buffy Summers?
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I started this story here 2 years ago and it’s finally time to bring it on home. For starters, you can re-read the first 7 chapters here.

I’ll post one new chapter now, then the final 4 later this afternoon. Enjoy!

Title: Where in the World is Buffy Summers
Author: missus_grace
Rating: R
Summary: Spike is now in Japan looking for Buffy, after hearing Faith tell Willy she’s been sent there. Angel has now decided he’s done masterminding this wild goose chase but Giles still has concerns. 


Spike stood by the table and waited to be acknowledged by Yamamoto before bowing slightly then slid into the booth across from him. The vampire took a sip of his sake before speaking.

“Toshi says you’re the man with information around here.”

“You might say that.” Yamamoto paused to taste his rice wine. “What can I do for you, Mr…?”

“Spike. Just Spike. I’m looking for a Slayer. You know the term?”

“Yes, I know of Slayers.” The Japanese man and his cohort shared a sly glance and a chuckle. “Although she must be quite bored here.” He brought the glass to his lips once more, and Spike took another shot of his sake, trying to be polite and not rush the man.

“For you see, we have not had demons in Japan since the end of the War.”

“The War? You mean World War II?”

“It’s true. The American occupation forces exterminated all non-humans. There were rumors about experiments and conditioning, and the demons that were here either disappeared or left. Even after control of our country was relinquished to us, demons stayed away. It is, after all, a relatively small island and resources are limited.”

Spike’s mind retrieved a memory of Angel and a submarine, and a shudder rippled through his body when it was followed by a mental picture of white walls and electrified doors.

“Be that as it may, I heard that the Doomsday Cult is calling up demons and the Slayer’s been sent here to stop them.”

Yamamoto shook his head vigorously. “No, there is no more Doomsday cult, and there are no…” he was interrupted by the chirping of a cell phone. His assistant moved to the back of the bar, pulling the mobile out of his pocket.

The Japanese man opened his mouth to continue his denials, but was stopped when his minion returned quickly to their table. A brief whispered conversation in Japanese took place and Yamamoto’s cool façade slipped a bit.

“My apologies, Spike-san. It appears that I have been misinformed, and a slayer has just been sighted in Nagasaki. They say she is a small thing and …”

There was more, but Spike had tuned out. This just couldn’t be a coincidence. He finally got the notion that all this time Angel might be playing him. He spoke no Japanese, but thought he’d heard the words Wolfram and Hart spoken in the middle of the quiet interchange. It hadn’t registered at first, but with this sudden about-face of Yamamoto’s and all the near-misses he’d been experiencing he just knew it.

Bloody buggering fuck.

Instead of confronting Yamamoto by slipping into game face and threatening him, he decided to play along, let the giant forehead think he was still running about after Buffy. He finished his sake and asked Yamamoto all the right questions, knowing his every move was now being watched by Angel. Let them think he was going to Nagasaki, but he was leaving the way he’d just arrived, with one small change.

He was going back to London. If he couldn’t get to Buffy, then he was going to make damn sure she came to him.


Even with his shorn hair and borrowed duds, it didn’t take long for the first batch of ambitious vamps to find him. The news of the subsequent dustings of said vamps spread through the demon grapevine like wildfire and all who heard paid heed – William the Bloody was back in England to claim his title as Master of London.

Rebuilding his Court gave Spike a sense of purpose and the respect he’d lost during his years in Sunnydale, fighting with Buffy notwithstanding. Spike had never been a great thinker; this much he’d admitted to the Slayer, but he was fully capable of running his hometown and had carefully crafted a workable plan during his long and confining return from Japan.

After his first few challenges he set out to find some backup. And he knew just who to look for. In an old city like London there were vamps that possessed a bit more substance and smarts than your run-of-the-mill minion. What set these vamps apart was their reluctance to kill innocent people. Like Peaches, they usually subsisted on animal blood or willing donors and had little loyalty to their Sires or bloodlines. They realized there was more to unlife than the usual hunt, bite, and kill, and existed closer to humans than other vamps. Sunnydale had been home to a few of this kind of vamp until Buffy wiped them from the map. They were the ones that Soldier Boy ran to when he started craving the bite.

Along with the other demons in town, they were laying low due to the influx of slayers. After he’d dealt with several of the serious Would-Be-Master wannabes he went after the non-violent vamps, luring them to his side with promises of getting the slayers to leave them alone. Once they heard his plan they were his; fealty pledged and all that rot. His collection was varied; there were a couple of magic-users and those who’d kept up creative pursuits. They moved into a nice set-up in an old industrial area, far enough away from most humans that slayers wouldn’t be alerted to their presence and Spike began plotting his next step.

Soon they’d have a slayer joining them, a guest of the fool-proof cage set to one side of the main warehouse. And he needed to make a phone call to Rome. He couldn’t do anything about the hair, but he could get his duster back. He’d have Ilona overnight his coat and there’d be no doubt – William the Bloody was back in business and everyone would know.


Giles swallowed the last of his pint and slammed the glass on the pub table. He ignored the stares of his neighbors because they were the least of his problems.

Apparently Spike had returned to assume his title as Master of London.

And Angel seemed to be washing his hands of the whole situation. During Spike’s tour of the world there’d been no slaughters, murders, or unexplained corpses with neck wounds, so Angel was assuming the soul was intact and had better things to do than keep tabs on the other vampire.

Giles forcefully reminded the CEO that Angel had dragged him into this farce and was now crapping out, leaving the Watcher holding the bag. Even after explaining that Spike was defeating all would-be heirs to the title and had to be planning something, Angel had just told the man to keep him appraised if the situation worsened and had abruptly hung up.

Now it was up to the new Council and their largely untested slayers to determine if Spike was indeed a threat. He absolutely did not want to bring Buffy into the operation, but knew she would need to be briefed sooner or later.


The thing Giles had been dreading happened one night during their normal patrol routines. A call came in from the Alpha team – one of the girls had chased a vampire down a blind alley and never returned. There was no body, no blood, just…nothing. An hour later the Delta squad returned to the Academy, out of breath and panicked; they’d lost Marta in the Tube. But when the Echo girls called to ask if Vi had come back on her own, Giles knew that Slayers were being targeted and he was certain that Spike was somehow responsible.

The glasses came off after he knocked on Buffy’s door at 3 in the morning. His left hand was searching out his handkerchief when she opened the door with a scowl on her face.

“Is my clock broken or is it really 3am?” she asked, rubbing her puffy eyes.

“I’m afraid it is a bit early, or late, if you’d rather, but I assure you you’ll want to hear about what’s been happening tonight.”

Still scrubbing a hand across her face, she gestured for him to come in and take a seat while she clicked on the little lamp next to her bed. As she sat on the edge of her comforter, she yawned.

“So spill. Is some nasty, slimy baby-eating demon breaking down the front door, because that’s the only reason you should be here right now.” Though she would never tell him, Buffy was secretly grateful for the distraction. Spike had once again taken a starring role in her dreams and it was getting harder and harder to wake up and face the real world, knowing that the only time she would ever get to see him would be during her slumber. And she secretly wished her dreams about Spike were prophetic, even though they were a bit weird.

In her sleep she’d seen him with short hair, wearing funny clothes, on boats and planes, and in one particularly disturbing dream, he’d been in a coffin. She felt her eyes closing and tried to rouse herself when Giles barked at her.

“Buffy! I know you’re tired but you must pay attention! Three slayers have gone missing tonight and I suspect someone from our past is behind it!”

She sat up sharply, her senses jarred awake by the bad news.

“Who, Giles? What girls are missing?”

“Marta, Clare, and Vi, I’m sorry to say,” he sighed, glasses polished and perched back on his nose.

“And who do you think is behind it?” She stood now, reaching into her closet for slaying clothes. No one was getting her girls without a battle.

“We’ve had reports…I’m almost certain….and this is going to come as quite a shock, but, um…Spike is alive, and is the current Master of London. He’s kidnapping the slayers to draw you out, Buffy. I think he wants to kill you.”

Buffy froze, a sweater in her hand, and slowly turned around.

“What did you say?” she whispered.

Giles made throat-clearing sounds. “It’s Spike. He has returned from hell, without his soul, I believe. He has been looking for you.”

“And you know this how? And I’m just now finding out about it because…” Clutching her sweater tightly to her chest, she returned to her bed and sat tautly on the edge, a wary expression etched into her features.

“Well, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tell you about this, but Angel informed me a few weeks ago about…”

“Angel knew?” she interrupted, barely keeping her temper in check. “And you didn’t want to tell me?”

“Yes…well, when Spike left Los Angeles and killed the old master after arriving here we came to the conclusion that he was up to his old ways, and that meant a return of his desire to kill you, so…”

Buffy held up a hand, silencing her Watcher. “I’m still stuck on ‘Spike’s alive’ and I think you need to start from the beginning.”

Giles sighed deeply and acquiesced. He told her what he knew about Spike’s resurrection, which was minimal, and Angel’s plan to keep the other vamp away from Buffy.

There was no response from Buffy after Giles finished his story. He was in the process of clearing his throat again when she looked at him, anger defining her features.

“You made another decision about Spike without telling me and now look what’s happened.” The wrath in her voice made Giles recoil in surprise. “I seriously doubt that Spike is evil again, and wouldn’t trust anything you or Angel said about him. But if I’d have known this sooner, I’m sure we wouldn’t be missing three slayers right now.”

She banged open her drawers and pulled out some clothes.

“Buffy, I… I know you’re angry with me right now, but please don’t go out until we get some more information.”

“Angry? I’m beyond angry, Giles. If Spike really is evil then I’m going to feed you to him myself.”

“Really Buffy, there’s no need for such vulgarities.” Giles knew she’d be upset, but she was scaring him right now.

His breath caught when she moved into his space and manhandled him to the door.

“I need to get dressed, so it’s time for you to go.”

“Buffy – no…please…You can’t just rush out there with no information. We need to make a plan…”

“No, Giles. I’m done playing your game. You and Angel played us; sent Dawn and I all over the place and made a fool out of Spike. I’m going to end this, one way or another.”

As she closed the door on him he stuck his foot in it.

“And if he’s evil? Will you be able to stake him?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she growled, and slammed the door in his face.

Putting the anger in the back of her mind, she thought about who she could take with her as back-up. She wasn’t so foolish as to leave headquarters by herself. The rudiments of a plan were forming in her mind, and if things went as expected, she’d need an accomplice.

Dressed and weapons stashed on her person, she crept upstairs to Lynn’s room. The girl was one of their recent finds, but she was the best fighter they’d seen among the new recruits. Buffy described the mission and Lynn was more than ready to accompany her. The teen-ager had self-confidence, but had not been allowed to demonstrate her skills.

The slayers climbed out of Lynn’s window to avoid any allies Giles might have roused and easily climbed three stories down. They jumped the fence and set out for the demon populated section of the city. Buffy was confident she’d get to the bottom this mess by sunrise.


Which made it all the more disappointing when the sun peeked out from a bank of drab, gray clouds without them having seen any vamps. She cringed at the thought of what awaited her back at Slayer HQ – the girls would be distraught, scared and angry, while Giles would try to convince her they needed to plan, plan, and plan some more – and maybe even try to subvert her leadership.

But how could she think the worst of Spike? She’d done so once before and he’d amazed her by getting his soul back. And no matter what, he never failed to keep watching out for her. If he had indeed returned to England, and if he had kidnapped the slayers, then for sure he must have reason to do so. She only hoped that she would get the opportunity to hear the truth from him before one of her less rational colleagues handled it in their own manner.



Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/271421.html

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