“So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving, Spike?” Buffy asked. They were in the two girls' dorm room, the three of them having returned together from the ground-breaking ceremony for the new UC Sunnydale Cultural Centre. It had been an eventful occasion; Xander, who had been part of the labour force digging the foundations, had dug into an unsuspected cavern, and fallen into an old mission that had been buried since an earthquake in 1812.
“Dunno, love, hadn't really thought about it,” Spike replied. “Not part of my cultural tradition, y'know. Just staying here. It's not like the long holidays; they don't make all the TAs bugger off out of the halls. The cafeteria'll be closed, but that doesn't make that big a difference to me. Plenty of blood in my fridge, and I've got my telly.”
“That's not right. Everybody should spend Thanksgiving with their family,” Buffy commiserated. “I know your family has been dead for like a century, but you should have somebody. It's a shame Mom has gone off to stay with Aunt Darlene, otherwise I bet she would have invited you over. You know what? I should have my own Thanksgiving. I can cook the meal, just like my Mom does, have all you guys over. It'll be great.”
“Buffy, earlier you agreed with me about Thanksgiving,” Willow put in. “It's a sham. It's all about death.”
“It is a sham, but it's a sham with yams. It's a yam sham.” Buffy grinned at them.
“All about death and destruction and massacre. I can go for that,” Spike grinned back.
“That's not what it's about for me. It's like Professor Walsh says about sense memory. I smell a roasting turkey, and I'm eight years old. I liked having that to look forward to. Everything's different now. Come on, say you'll come?” Buffy smiled winningly at Willow, and then turned her smile on Spike. “You did say you wanted to have friends.”
Spike felt his unbeating heart lurch. “If you're sure you want me there, pet, I'll come,” he agreed.
“Well, I suppose there could be slight yams,” Willow conceded.
“I mean, we could definitely use a little comfort food.” Buffy expanded. “I bet Giles doesn't have any plans. And Xander always tries to avoid all of his family gatherings.”
“Ooh. We could not invite Anya,” Willow suggested.
“I don't know. She and Xander seem pretty tight lately,” Buffy pointed out. “Look, Pilgrims aside, isn't that the whole point of Thanksgiving - everybody has a place to go?”
“I've nowhere left to go,” Harmony whimpered to Mystic, her Beanie Baby Unicorn. She lay in her lair, clutching her stomach, wracked with hunger pangs. She hadn't eaten for days. She'd made an attempt to get to her parents' house; she was sure that they would take her in, and that they would buy animal blood for her; but she'd spotted that it was being watched. The commandos would burst in, and take her away, and the scientists would experiment on her again; this time there would be no escape. She didn't dare try again. She had thought of approaching another vampire for help, but knew that if she showed weakness she would become a victim or a slave. Especially if she was prevented from harming demons as well as humans, and she was too scared to try to find out the answer to that question. It would lead to her immediate death if the answer turned out to be yes. “What am I going to do, Mystic? What am I going to do?”
There had been a murder. Nothing unusual in Sunnydale, but this one was out of the ordinary even by Sunnydale standards. The Professor of Anthropology at UC Sunnydale had had her throat slit and one of her ears cut off. The murder weapon was thought to be an artefact, a Chumash Indian knife from the early nineteenth century, which was missing from a display case in the Anthropology Department. Buffy was investigating, in case there was a supernatural perpetrator, and descended on Giles' apartment to both fill him in on the progress of her investigation and also make sure he was prepared for hosting the Thanksgiving dinner. Spike tagged along with her, but stayed behind when she left in search of a turkey pan.
“So, you're the patriarch, then, mate?” he ribbed Giles, once Buffy was out of the way.
“So Buffy has decided,” Giles said resignedly. “Now she's gone, I can bring out my other visitor.”
Angel stepped into the room. “Hello, Spike,” he greeted.
“Bleeding Hell! Angel. Hello, mate. Didn't expect to see you here. You coming to this Thanksgiving thing, then?”
“Afraid not. In fact, I don't want Buffy to know I'm here at all. It would only distract her. It could get her hurt. This isn't a social call, Spike.”
“Trouble? Something to do with this murder thing, you reckon?”
“Could be. Doyle had a vision. It wasn't clear, but it concerned Buffy. She's in danger from something unkillable.” Angel looked at Spike with an unreadable expression.
“And you thought of me? I'm hurt.” Spike grinned, but indeed he was hurt.
“I'm sorry, Spike. I'm ashamed to say so, but it was my first thought.” Angel saw the pain in Spike's eyes, and stepped forward and took hold of Spike's shoulder. “I really am sorry. I trusted you when you were in LA, and I shouldn't have questioned that trust after all we went through together, and especially after what you did for Rachel - who is still doing well, by the way. Giles has filled me in about what you've been doing here, and it's just made me feel even worse.”
“Oh, don't beat yourself up about it, mate. Can't expect a century of death and carnage to be forgotten all at once, can I? Anyway, it's not me. Haven't got a soul to lose, not going to suddenly go postal on the Slayer. So what is it then?”
“I suspect that there is some connection to the old mission,” Giles declared. “Something that is angry at being disturbed.”
“Or something that was trapped there, and now has been released,” suggested Angel. “Something that has a fondness for ancient weapons. Do you know Father Gabriel, Giles?”
“No, can't say that I do,” Giles admitted. “Do you think he could help?”
“His family dates back to the time of the mission,” Angel explained. “He knows the history of the place pretty well. He could help fill in some of the blanks.”
“Okay, I'll see about contacting him. I'm still not happy about you not revealing yourself to Buffy, Angel. I don't like keeping this a secret,” Giles said.
“Nor do I, mate,” added Spike. “How are you going to help if you don't let her see you? Are you just going to watch?”
“Yes. I'll step in if I'm needed, but otherwise I don't want her to know.”
“It's not fair. You know that's what she'd say. You can see her, but she can't see you?” Giles removed his glasses, and polished the lenses.
“Believe me, I'm not getting the good half of this deal. To be on the outside, looking in at what I can't...” Angel sighed. “Well, I'd forgotten how bad it feels.”
‘Try being right there with her, talking to her, even sitting on the bleeding bed with her, and knowing you can't have her, mate,’ Spike thought. ‘You think you've got it hard?’ He fought off the wave of self-pity. “So, what can I do to help?”
“The logical division of labour would be for you to watch over Buffy by day, Spike, and Angel to watch over her by night,” Giles proposed.
“Seems sensible,” Spike agreed. “Unless you want to borrow the ring?” he suggested to Angel.
Angel was taken aback by the offer. “Thanks, Spike, but I think not,” he declined. “It would raise awkward questions if Buffy wanted to see you during the day.”
“In that case I'll head off after her now, I suppose,” Spike announced. “Until we know more about this danger we'd best take no chances.”
Once he had gone Angel turned to Giles. “I still can't believe the change in him. It's genuine, I know it, but I don't understand it. Are you sure he hasn't somehow acquired a soul?”
“Quite sure. Which makes it all the more puzzling. He's still the same Spike, the difference is much more subtle than that between you and Angelus. He still smokes, is still inclined to be foul-mouthed, but somehow ...” Giles cleaned his glasses while he gathered his thoughts. “I must admit I actually like him. I trust him to an extent that I would never have believed possible only a few weeks ago. Willow is so fond of him that I wonder if it is becoming more than just friendship, and yet I find that I can't object. It casts doubt upon all the teachings of the Watchers' Council. We are told that a soulless creature cannot change, cannot grow spiritually, and yet ... Could it be as simple as his ability to walk in the sunlight, courtesy of the Gem? No longer forced to be a creature of darkness, free to choose the light?” Giles suddenly remembered Angel's own situation, and hastily resorted to cleaning his glasses again.
“I don't think so. Marcus, who stole the ring, certainly showed no signs of any such change. It just set him free to torture by day as well as by night.” Angel shook his head. “If you ever do find out the cause, I want to know. If it could be applied to Angelus...”
Giles knew what Angel was thinking. If the soulless Angelus could be converted from evil, then Angel's curse would be effectively lifted. There would be no more reason for Angel to shun Buffy for fear that a moment of pure happiness would unleash the monster upon the world again. It was not a prospect that filled Giles with joy. He hated Angelus more than anything else in the world; the old evil Spike was far less unpleasant than the diabolically twisted soulless version of Angel. In fact, to be honest, Giles had to admit that he liked the new Spike far more than he had ever liked the solemn, brooding, Angel. And Giles was now convinced that Spike, even if he reverted to his evil ways, would refrain from doing anything that would jeopardise his friendship with Joyce Summers. Buffy would be safe from him, and probably so would the rest of the gang. The worst that could happen would be that Spike would leave Sunnydale and set off to wreak carnage in Berlin, or Anchorage, or Vladivostok. “I fear there is little chance of that,” Giles observed, and said no more.
Spike and Angel took turns watching over Buffy. However neither of them was present when she had her first encounter with the mysterious danger. It took place that evening. Angel followed her to Father Gabriel's church, but didn't enter because of the prevalence of crucifixes; and it was inside that she met Hus, the Avenging Spirit of the Chumash Indians, who had just hanged Father Gabriel and cut his throat. She came out on top in the resulting fight, but Hus turned into a flock of bats and flew away.
Spike accompanied Buffy to Giles' house the next day, and peeled vegetables while Buffy related the tale of her encounter with Hus to Giles. Willow arrived later with frozen peas and reference books detailing the history of the Chumash. The red-haired witch told the story of the Chumash War; a gross misnomer considering that the Chumash were a peaceful people, with primitive weapons, who had had virtually no defence against being conquered, enslaved, and massacred. She sympathised with Hus, who appeared to be avenging the wrongs done to his people, and urged Buffy to find a way to resolve the conflict without slaying the warrior spirit. Buffy was inclined to agree; Giles took the opposite point of view, and stated that the destruction of Hus might be regrettable, but was necessary. Spike backed Giles, getting a hurt look from Willow for his pains, and Buffy took refuge from the discussion by getting totally immersed in the dinner preparations.
When Anya and Xander arrived Willow became even more isolated. Xander was shivering and sweating. He had been smitten with disease; all the diseases that the arrival of the Europeans had brought to the Chumash. Malaria, and smallpox, and syphilis. He was all in favour of slaying Hus, with extreme prejudice, and as quickly as possible. Anya just wanted Xander cured as quickly as possible; and would have cheerfully massacred an entire tribe of peaceful Indians to bring about the cure.
In the middle of the discussion, or argument, there was a knock on the door. Buffy went to answer it, and Spike followed her in case the caller was a threat.
It was Harmony. In broad daylight, shielded by an umbrella, and clutching a small suitcase. Smoke was rising from a couple of places where she had been caught by the sun.
“Buffy,” she pleaded. “Help me.”
Buffy drew back her hand for a palm-heel strike, which would send Harmony sprawling into the direct sunlight, but then hesitated. She turned towards Spike, read the expression on his face, and called to Giles. “Giles, quickly, invite her in!”
“Come in, Harmony,” Giles invited, reluctantly. Harmony stumbled forward into the house, dropping the umbrella, and Buffy caught her. Harmony released the suitcase and slumped against Buffy, the last reserves of her strength giving out.
Spike moved forward and assisted Buffy in bringing Harmony into the living room. He saw the vampire girl's haggard face and dull eyes, and realised what had happened to her. “She's starving to death,” he breathed.
“I'll get some blood,” Giles announced, and went to the kitchen. Buffy and Spike helped Harmony to a chair and sat her down. Harmony sagged limply into the chair and moaned incoherently.
“So why aren't we staking her already?” demanded Xander.
Willow turned accusing eyes on him. “Xander! Look at her. She's suffering terribly. Don't be cruel.”
“Yeah, well, she was trying to eat you just the other day,” Xander retorted. “Don't kill the poor misunderstood Native American spirit who gave me syphilis, don't stake the poor starving vampire who tried to eat you. C'mon, Will, it's Thanksgiving, not National Turn The Other Cheek Week.”
“She tried to bite me, but she couldn't,” Willow pointed out. “She's helpless.”
“There will be no staking of the helpless at my perfect Thanksgiving,” Buffy decreed. “We are going to have a nice dinner, with pie.”
Giles came back from the kitchen with a mug full of lukewarm blood. He passed it to Spike, who held it to Harmony's lips. “Also, Xander,” Giles reminded the young man, “There is the matter of the commandos who attempted to abduct Harmony, and threatened Willow in the process. Harmony has said that they had captured her previously, and that she had escaped. We need to know more about them. We can hardly interrogate the young lady if she has been reduced to dust.”
Spike fed the blood to Harmony. The master vampire held the girl gently, guiding her hands to the mug and helping her raise it to her lips. “Don't worry, Harm, I won't let him hurt you,” he muttered soothingly. “Just drink, and rest.” Buffy watched them for a moment, feeling touched by the tenderness and compassion Spike was displaying, and then returned to the kitchen to get on with the dinner preparations.
“Do you feel up to talking now, Harmony?” Giles asked, once she had drained the mug.
“Yeah, Harm, what's happened to you?” Spike added.
“Still ... hungry,” Harmony croaked. “I'll tell you. Please ... more blood. And don't kill me.”
Spike raised his eyes to meet Giles'. “Promise me, mate. She doesn't harm anyone here, she tells us what she knows, and she leaves here unharmed. You promise?”
“Well, I can't speak for Buffy, but for my part I agree to those terms,” Giles responded. “You have my promise.”
“And mine!” Buffy called from the kitchen. “I'll bring some more blood in a minute.”
“Of course I promise,” Willow joined in. “Xander?” she prompted.
“Have you all gone soft?” Xander asked. “That's not Harmony Kendall, it's the demon that killed her.”
“And I'm not William Walworth, I'm the demon that killed him,” Spike reminded the young man who had become his friend. “I thought we were getting on okay these days. Look, mate, for me. Promise you won't kill the poor daft bint if she behaves herself.”
Xander looked away, shamed. “Okay, I promise. But if she hurts any of us all deals are off.”
“Fair enough, mate.” Spike looked at Anya.
“I've got nothing against demons,” the girl who had once been a Vengeance Demon asserted. “But she made sexual advances towards Xander. Xander is mine. She can't have him. If there is any more showing of the nipples to my Xander then I will stake her.”
“I didn't know you were going out with Xander, Anya,” Harmony put in. The mug of blood had restored some of her strength, and she spoke more strongly. “Nobody keeps me in the loop any more, just because I'm a vampire. I thought Willow and Spike were an item, which is why I was going to bite her. I've got so much gossip to catch up on.”
“Later!” Willow mouthed frantically to her former school friend. She didn't want Harmony to start asking about the Buffy-Parker affair while Buffy was in the vicinity. Buffy walked in at that very moment with another mug. Harmony caught Willow's signal, jerked her head in Buffy's direction with a questioning look, and raised her eyebrows. Willow nodded, and Harmony returned the nod. Buffy didn't notice the unspoken communication. She passed the fresh mug to Spike and took away the empty one.
“I can manage for myself now, Spikey,” Harmony told him. “Thank you.” She began to drink.
“Is William Walworth your real name, then, Spike?” Giles asked, intrigued. “I had assumed it was merely a false identity.”
“Bugger!” said Spike. “Busted. I suppose you're going to go looking up my past life, now you know my name and date of birth?”
“I must confess the idea had occurred to me,” Giles confessed. “You have already revealed the college where you did your degree. I could find out a great deal about you, I am sure, but after all you have already told us so much, there cannot be that much more to discover. It is so long ago; would it matter to you if I found out more?”
“There are a few things I'd still like to keep private,” Spike admitted.
“Very well, Spike, I will respect your wishes,” Giles agreed. Privately he was intrigued at the idea that William the Bloody still had secrets about his human life that he was unwilling to share. In disclosing that he had a degree Spike had already discredited the street thug history that he used to claim. Still, it was of purely academic interest, and not worth pursuing if it would upset or offend the vampire.
“You went to college?” Harmony put in. “You told me you were a highwayman.”
“Yeah, well, ‘I'm the dandy highwayman who you're too scared to mention’ sounds a lot better for impressing the birds than ‘I was a poncy student studying Latin and Greek’,” Spike muttered. “The only birds that pulls are the ones by Aristophanes.”
“You read plays in the original Greek?” Willow joined in, impressed. “Cool!”
“Hey!” Harmony glared at her. “I think it's cool that Spikey is clever and educated too.”
“And so do I,” Buffy added, re-entering the living room. “Giles, I can't find your brandy. You do have brandy?”
“On the bookcase. You would appear to be wrong in your assumption about the prestige value of your academic achievements, Spike.”
“Hey! Don't forget about me just because the only Greek I know is ‘Moussaka’,” Xander chimed in. “Syphilis? Smallpox? Me dying? Ancient Indian warrior cutting off ears? Remember, people. Cures to find, people to save.”
“Oh, sorry, Xander. I'll get back to the books. There's got to be something in here.” Willow resumed her research.
“You're right.” Giles' brow furrowed. “The victims. Apart from Xander, they're all authority figures. Hus has targeted the person who first broke into the mission, Father Gabriel, and the curator of the Cultural Centre. Who else fits this pattern?”
“The Dean?” Buffy suggested. “Dean Guerrero. He's like the King of us. And he was at the ceremony.”
“Yes, a likely candidate,” Giles agreed. “We should warn him.”
“Can I use your phone?” Harmony interrupted. “I want to let my folks know I can't make it for the Thanksgiving dinner.”
“You were going to your parents' for dinner?” Buffy emerged from the kitchen once more, looking astonished.
“Well, duh, what else?”
“But, I thought vampires always tried to kill their families,” Buffy explained.
“Why would I do that?” Harmony looked at Buffy as if she was mad. “How would they give me my allowance then? And where else could I get mail delivered and stuff? Anyway, they're my folks. I was going to Thanksgiving, sure. I had to promise I wouldn't eat any of the other guests, and I was only going to have the gravy. They're expecting me.”
“But Angel said ...” Buffy murmured in a puzzled voice. “Spike?” She looked at the other vampire, seeking his opinion.
Spike avoided her eyes. He stood up, looking distressed. “Got to go to the bathroom,” he said, and walked quickly out of the room. Buffy made as if to follow, then returned to the kitchen instead.
Giles watched Spike's exit thoughtfully, then turned back to Harmony. “Yes, you can phone. However, first explain why you came here instead of going to them in the first place.”
“Because those commando guys are watching my house,” Harmony explained. “I've been trying to get there for two days. It's where I meant to go today. I thought they might not be there in daylight. But they are.”
“Secret commando types, maybe Government agency,” said Xander. “Bet they've got the phone tapped.”
“Hey, yeah!” Harmony agreed. “Or laser bugging things pointed at the windows. Or both.”
“It's certainly possible,” Giles conceded. “In which case, making a call from here may not be the best course of action. Not even someone else on your behalf.”
“I'll do it from a payphone,” Xander offered. “I'm stifling in here. Could do with some air. Then I could head on and warn the Dean, probably more likely to be believed face to face than on the phone.”
“Not alone,” Willow objected. “You're in no shape to wander around by yourself. I'll come too.”
“And me!” joined in Anya. “Xander, do Harmony's parents know your voice?”
Xander thought for a minute. “Probably. I've been there a couple of times; also Mr. Kendall was my boss in the job before last.”
“So it only needs them to call you ‘Xander’ on the phone, and the CIA or whoever can find out who you are. I'll do the phoning.” Anya fussed over Xander, making sure he was indeed up to walking.
“Should we take Spike?” Willow wondered. “We might have to do some Dean protecting.”
“I feel he would be most useful here, keeping an eye on Harmony,” Giles advised. “I see that night is almost upon us.”
Willow looked out at the darkening sky and caught Giles' meaning. She was party to the secret of Angel's presence, and darkness meant that the souled vampire would be available to aid the small party. “Okay. Come on then, people, let's go.”
Xander, who was not aware of Angel being in Sunnydale, had been too occupied with Anya to notice Willow's suggestion that the Dean might need protection. So he raised no objection to the party departing without Spike.
“The Dean's house is up past the gym,” Buffy reminded them. “And hurry. Dinner's in an hour.”
Giles watched over Harmony until Spike returned from the bathroom. The English vampire was not paler than normal, and he was not sweating; but somehow gave the impression that he would be pale and sweating if vampire physiology had allowed. Something had happened to upset him; but he did not appear willing to discuss it. Giles let it rest, and assisted Buffy with the meal, while Spike kept his eye on the other vampire. The actual interrogation of Harmony could wait. It was apparent that she was no threat; whatever the reason for her inability to hurt Willow, she was obviously weakened, and in no shape to deal with Giles himself; let alone the Watcher backed up by the Slayer and a master vampire.
Anya rang Harmony's parents from a pay phone, as promised, and then the three continued on to the Dean's house. Their warning was met with disbelief, and they were politely shown the door.
Angel was waiting for them outside; he had spotted them leaving Giles' apartment, as Willow had guessed he would, and followed them without too much difficulty in the gathering dusk. Now it was completely dark he was able to come out into the open.
“Willow,” he greeted.
“Angel?” Xander exclaimed, startled.
“So this is Angel. He is large and glowery, isn't he?” commented Anya, who had never met the souled vampire before.
“He's evil again!” Xander burst out.
“I'm not evil again. Why does everyone think that?” Angel protested, hurt. “I haven't been evil for a long time.”
“Angel's here to protect Buffy,” Willow explained. “She's not supposed to know he's here. Angel, do you have something new?”
“Yeah, all the Chumash weapons are missing from the Cultural Centre,” Angel announced. “Something's up. Where's Buffy?”
“Still at Giles',” Willow replied. “She has to get the dinner ready and keep an eye on Harmony.”
“Harmony?” Angel queried.
“Long story, not important right now. Buffy sent us to check on Dean Guerrero.”
“Why the Dean?” Angel wondered.
“We think he's going after someone in charge. A leader.”
“Good thought, but ... he's a warrior. To a warrior, a leader means the strongest fighter.”
“Oops!” said Willow. “Buffy. The vision thing.”
“He's formed a raiding party,” Angel guessed. “That's what the weapons are for.”
“Spike's there, and Giles,” Willow said hopefully. “They should be okay, right?”
“War party, Will,” Xander pointed out. “I'm thinking that means a lot of Indians. Right?”
“Right. I'll call them. You get back there fast, I'll follow.”
An arrow whistled through the window of Giles' apartment and impaled the decorative scarecrow that stood on the table. A half-naked figure, face streaked with war paint, appeared at the window wielding a bow. Harmony screamed.
“Listen!” Buffy yelled. “Maybe I wasn't clear before about how terrible we all feel. Because, we're trying to help.”
“I don't think talking is going to help, Slayer,” Spike advised.
Buffy ignored him. “Uh, you can have casinos now,” she told the Indian warrior. “We've got ’Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee’ on the curriculum at the college.”
Her attempts to single-handedly resolve the grievances of the Native Americans proved futile. A volley of arrows came through the window. One struck Harmony in the shoulder, and penetrated all the way through her undead flesh, pinning her to the chair.
“Get down!” Giles shouted. Buffy threw herself flat. Spike moved towards the window; arrows couldn't kill him while he wore the Gem. Then he saw the terror-stricken Harmony, tugging in vain at the arrow, a helpless target for more shots. He flung himself in front of her in the nick of time. Another volley of arrows came in, and three of them slammed into Spike's back. The tip of one of them emerged from the front of his chest and pointed directly at Harmony's heart. Spike cried out in pain, but kept his head and snapped off the shaft of the arrow that was impaling the girl vampire. He pulled her forward, freeing her from the shaft, and carried her to safety behind the table. Another arrow pierced him as he did so.
“Spike!” Buffy cried out in horror.
“Won't kill me, love,” he reassured her. “Bloody hurts, though.”
The phone rang. Giles managed to pick it up without exposing himself to arrow fire. “Hello? Yes. Yes, we're well aware of that. We - we're under siege now, actually. Thank you.”
“Who was that?” asked Buffy, throwing a dinner knife at one of the bowmen who were now clustered at Giles' windows.
“One of the others. Buffy, we need a plan.”
“We do. Talking isn't working. Where's your weapons chest?”
Giles pointed. “Over there.”
Buffy crawled towards the chest. Spike raised his head and began counting the opposition. Buffy reached the chest, drew out an axe, and then dropped it as an arrow slashed along her arm, leaving a bloody trail. She recoiled, but then grabbed the axe again.
“How many?” she asked. Spike and Giles called out numbers and placements, then an arrow through the throat silenced Spike. He took cover behind the table again, and, with Harmony's help, began pulling the arrows out.
“I'm like a bloody pincushion here,” he muttered, and then saw the Indians charging through the windows. “Buffy, look out!” he yelled. Buffy met the first of her attackers with an axe stroke that would have struck dead a Viking berserker. The Chumash brave took the blow, toppled to the ground, then got to his feet and returned to the attack, no injury visible. “Unkillable,” Spike groaned. “Bloody Hell.”
“Giles!” Buffy shouted. “They don't die!”
“Bit busy here,” Giles responded, grappling with an Indian. Another seized him by the back of the neck and raised a tomahawk. Spike rugby-tackled Giles' attacker, dragged him to the ground, and began punching him repeatedly. Each blow had only a temporary effect.
Outside a separate battle was raging. Willow, Xander, and Anya had arrived, and laid into the Indians with shovels and other improvised weapons. Angel joined them a moment later. “Why ... don't ... you ... die?” Willow grunted, hitting one of the Chumash over and over again with a shovel. Angel rushed to her aid, snapped the Indian's neck, and moved on. The warrior lay still for a moment, and then began to rise to his feet once again.
Buffy was fighting Hus himself. She managed to seize his knife and slashed him with it. The Avenging Spirit froze, staring at the wound, as blood trickled out. “Your own knife can kill you!” Buffy exclaimed, and thrust at Hus again. “Hey, guys! Use their own weapons against them!”
Hus dodged Buffy's thrust, roared, and began to grow. His shape changed as he grew, taking the form of a huge bear.
“You made a bear!” Harmony gasped.
“I didn't mean to,” Buffy apologised. She attacked the bear immediately, but was driven back by its claws and teeth.
“Hey, Gentle Ben!” yelled Xander from outside the window. He began throwing things at the bear. “That's for giving me syphilis!” The bear turned towards him.
Harmony grasped the broken tip of one of the arrows, keeping it out of everyone's sight. ‘Time to see if it is only humans I can't hurt,’ she thought, and stabbed the bear in the leg as hard as she could. The bear roared in pain, and stumbled. Harmony tensed herself, and then relaxed, as she felt no trace of the searing agony that had filled her when she attacked Willow.
Xander had already distracted the bear. Harmony's attack turned it even further away from Buffy, who seized the opening. She stabbed the bear with the Chumash knife, driving it home to the hilt. There was a roar, a wail, and the bear dwindled away to nothing. The other Chumash braves vanished as well.
Harmony looked around. No one seemed to have noticed the part she had played in the victory. This suited her very well. ‘So, I can hurt non-humans,’ she thought. ‘Great.’ Her eyes rested on the ring Spike wore, the ring he had taken from her in the crypt. The ring that had enabled her to survive a stake through the heart. ‘Just you wait, Spikey. Just you wait.’
Buffy returned to the cooking as soon as her arm had been bandaged. Harmony looked longingly at the blood, but decided not to push her luck, and refrained from asking for a lick.
Buffy produced a creditable meal, despite the interruption. All the humans tucked in with gusto, and Spike ate a small portion. Harmony ate only a tiny amount of the turkey, but consumed a lot of the gravy. The vampires joined the humans in devouring the pie. Eventually all the food was gone, and everyone settled back for a leisurely cup of coffee.
Everyone complimented Buffy on the meal, even Harmony, but Buffy was still dissatisfied.
“Wasn't exactly a perfect Thanksgiving,” she lamented, thinking about the murder and mayhem.
Willow disagreed. “I don't know. Seemed kinda right to me. A bunch of anticipation, a big fight, and now we're all sleepy. And we did all survive.”
“I guess that much is true,” Buffy admitted. “First Thanksgiving on my own, and we all got through it.”
“Even me,” Harmony put in. “Thanks for letting me join you, Buffy, Mr Giles.”
“Well, what else could we do? Chain you up in the bath?” suggested Buffy, grinning.
“Yeah, well, thanks anyway,” Harmony repeated. “And thanks for saving my life, Spike. Taking those arrows for me was ... well, heroic.”
“I promised you'd leave here alive if you co-operated, Harm, and I don't break my word if there's any way I can help it,” Spike replied. “Like I said, it hurt but it wouldn't kill me. Nothing heroic about it.”
Giles had seen what had happened, and disagreed. The arrows may not have been life threatening, but the pain must have been excruciating. Spike's selfless action had impressed the Watcher considerably, but he didn't want to say so in front of Harmony. He would tell him in private later, and also tell Buffy. For the time being he restricted himself to commenting “I think everyone did very well, and we were all suitably rewarded by this delicious meal.”
“Yeah, and, you know what?” Xander took hold of Anya's shoulder. “I think my syphilis is clearing right up.”
“And they say romance is dead,” Buffy commented dryly. “Or maybe they just wish it.”
“Well, maybe we started a new tradition this year,” Willow said. Everyone stared at her. “Maybe not. But at least we all worked together. It was like old times.”
“Yeah, especially with Angel being here and everything,” Xander let slip.
Everyone's eyes turned to Buffy.