Chapter Two

Spike followed Buffy’s scent until he found her standing at the back door of the rambling building. Rather than the stiff back she’d carried out of the room, her shoulders were now relaxed as she slumped against the doorjamb, staring blindly out into the bright sunlight. He walked up behind her, silently, but well aware that she knew he was there. He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders and put his chin on the top of her head.

“It was what it was, love,” he said. “And not my doin’. You know that. What’s this all about?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, leaning back against his chest and reaching up to pull his hands down and around her body. “I think it just scared me to realize how close you came to…”

“Was never close to what she’s got now.” She felt him stiffen and squeezed his hands in apology. “Soul wouldn’t have allowed it. If the silly bint had got herself turned somehow, I’d have staked her. And if she’d tried to bleed to death on me…” His grip tightened for just a second, and Buffy gave his arms another reassuring squeeze. He’d long since told her about Anne’s attempt to blackmail him into staying with her by slicing open her own arm. That he’d have been willing to let her die had driven the first chink of doubt into Anne’s store of untrue vampire facts.

“But you were happy there,” she continued her thoughts. “If I’d never shown up, you’d have had a good life and never known the difference. Doing enough good deeds to keep the soul happy, getting enough violence to keep the demon calm, a woman who loved you--

He spun her around so fast her head snapped back.

“I was content there. Mostly. And only ‘cause I didn’t know any better. Was already bored out of my skull a good bit of the time, truth to tell, but I believed her stories about before and thought that was just the life I was used to. And we both know she didn’t love me.” His voice carried just a trace of bitterness – years of being used by women he’d thought himself in love with darkening his expression. “She loved what I am. Was too bloody stupid not to realize it myself until after you got here and I found out a bit more about her past…and mine.”

“But you felt loved. I know you did.”

“I feel loved now,” he rumbled, nuzzling her neck and enjoying her immediate response. “’less there’s something you aren’t telling me…”

“Don’t be an ass,” she huffed, trying to hide her smile. They both knew that the mark on her neck and his matching scar made reassurance superfluous.

“But I’m so good at it,” he grinned. “And you know you expect it.”

“You’ve got that right,” she murmured, arching her neck and humming happily when he began to suck on his mark.

“But you love me anyway.”

“I do.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” He gave her a quick kiss and straightened up. “Well, that and making a plan for later this evening.”

Buffy sighed and reluctantly pulled away from him.

“I suppose you’re right. We’d better get back and help them—“ She broke off when he gasped with mock astonishment.

“I’m what?”

“Don’t push it,” she warned, her smile taking the seriousness out of her implied threat. His only reply was a quick pat on her ass as he followed her back to the general meeting room.

Where they found chaos reigning. Voices were raised, arguments were going on and much gesturing was taking place. They stared in bewilderment for several seconds until the girls noticed their return and the din died away. Buffy stared around the room, finally settling on the face of one of the slayers she already knew.

“What’s going on?”

Two girls tried to speak at once, stopping when Buffy made a chopping motion with her hand.

“One at a time – You, Bobbi, what’s going on?”

Bobbi’s eyes widened and she looked around helplessly for support. When no one seemed inclined to bail her out, she squared her shoulders and said with only a slight tremble in her voice, “Some…a couple of the girls didn’t want to wait until tonight. They…um…they went to maybe break some windows and try to find out—“

“They’re going in without us? After we specifically said not to?”

“Becky said you’re not the boss of us.” A quiet voice came from the back of the room. A tall, slender slayer who reminded Spike of Dawn stepped forward and added firmly, “And I think she’s right. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t listen to you, cause you’re all…old and experienced and…stuff--”

She broke off and frowned as Buffy visibly struggled to control her expression and Spike smothered a laugh.

“Easy, love. The chit didn’t mean any disrespect. Did you, pet?” he directed at the mortified girl who was just realizing how what she'd said might sound to a woman in her mid-twenties.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you were old, like old. I just meant you’ve been doing this for years and years and some of us are only…I’m not making it better, am I?” she appealed to Spike who was trying to soothe Buffy’s ruffled feelings, but failing miserably due to being unable to control snorts of laughter that only made the Head Slayer’s eyes narrow even more. He kept a tight grip on Buffy’s belt as he smiled at the nervous young girl.

“It’s alright, luv. She’ll get over herself in a minute or two. Meantime, tell me something about the boneheads who thought they knew more about how to handle a big vamp nest than the Slayer who took out the First Evil and an army of uber-vamps with nothing but a brave group of potentials and a tag-along vampire.”

The reminder that they owed their current status to the woman now shaking her head at the vampire holding her -- whose sacrifice to save the world was well documented – went a long way toward removing any doubts they may have had about the wisdom of obeying orders from Spike or Buffy.

Bobbi waved down another attempted apology from the still embarrassed girl and named the three slayers who had gone off on their own. She added that they’d taken weapons and said they’d be back soon.

“Let’s hope they’re right,” Buffy muttered, twisting loose from Spike’s grip with a look that said clearly she didn’t appreciate being manhandled in front of her troops.

He gave her an unrepentant grin and asked, “Okay, Slayer. What do you want to do? Wait for them to come back or go riding to the rescue?”

With a deep calming breath, Buffy showed how much she had earned the right to be the leader of whatever group of slayers she was currently working with. With a forgiving smile, she asked, “What do you girls want to do? They’re your co-workers. You know them best. Are they likely to get out of this without help? Or are they reckless and likely to make bad decisions?”

“Either way, the element of surprise is gone now,” Spike pointed out.

“It is,” Buffy agreed. “But maybe not completely. If we show up right after they take out the windows and before they get inside…”

“It’ll take me longer to get there,” he said calmly, only his tightly clenched fists letting on how hard it was for him to suggest sending Buffy off without being at her side.

“We’ll save some for you,” she promised, trying not to let his obvious reluctance to let her go alone distract her. “So, what do you think, ladies? Do we go riding to the rescue, or do we wait to see if they learn anything important?”

Bobbi bit her lip, but it was another girl who spoke up first.

“I think we should wait for them to come back. They aren’t really stupid, just impatient. I don’t think they’ll do anything dumb. Maybe dust a few minions on the first floor and then report back. I think they’ll be fine,” she repeated with a stubborn set to her mouth.

“Okay,” Buffy said with a nod. “Does everyone else feel the same way? That we should wait for them to report back?”

“What do you think?” The slender girl had gone back to lounging against the wall. After avoiding much of the discussion, another young slayer straightened up and took a few steps forward. “Can three slayers get in and out of a place like that by themselves?”

Buffy and Spike exchanged looks, then turned back to the waiting girls. She gestured for him to speak first.

“Can they do it? Absolutely. Provided they’re smart and quick, and An -Chanterelle isn’t expecting them and doesn’t have any traps set…”

“Traps?”

Spike snorted. “These aren’t animals you’re fighting. They’re demons with all the memories and skills they had when they were human. How many of those homeless gits would you guess were veterans of some war or another?” He waited for someone to make a guess, but the girls stared at him blankly until he shook his head and continued.

“I worked there for almost a year. I’d guess a good third of the drunks and bums that hung out there were casualties of some war or another. And not all of them physical casualties. The homeless have their fair share of crazies…and that doesn’t go away when you get turned,” he added with the certainty of someone who’s been there. Remembering Kralik, Buffy nodded her head in affirmation.

“He’s right,” she said, addressing the slayer who’d asked the question. Something about the girl’s laid-back attitude reminded her of Faith – if Faith had been a seventeen year old, Southern California Latina senior in high school when she’d been called. “For all we know Chanterelle has herself a minion army of actual, you know, army guys…and girls.”

Some of the slayers who’d been so sure that they should wait for Becky’s return began to frown and shift around uncomfortably.

“I don’t think anyone thought of that,” a short brunette said, biting her lip. “Maybe we…”

“We’ll give them until late afternoon,” Buffy said. “That was the plan anyway – to hit them while the sun could still fry any that ran outside. If the girls aren’t back before then, we’ll meet them half-way.”

Several restless hours later, Spike gave Buffy a gruff “see you later” and ducked into the nearest manhole to begin making his way to the old shelter. Even with his speed, Buffy and the five slayers left were likely to beat him to the neighborhood in which the nest was located. They loaded up with weapons, including axes to break the windows if the other girls hadn’t already done so, grabbed the keys to the Council-purchased minivan, and piled into it for the quick drive to the former homeless shelter.

They pulled into a semi-legal parking place in front of a dilapidated building, taking a quick look inside, but finding nothing more than the usual assortment of crack whores and their equally bleary-eyed customers. No one’s vampire tingles were set off and, ignoring the curious frowns from the few humans lolling around the building, they locked the van and began walking.

Buffy was slightly bemused to find that none of the people they passed looked more than mildly curious of the small groups of clean, relatively pretty and well-dressed girls carrying axes and swords, but she was grateful that no one seemed inclined to call 911 to report them. They were only a block from the nest when movement caught Buffy’s eye.

“Janie!” gasped Anita, the slayer who reminded her of Faith, running forward to catch the bloody and battered girl.

“What happened?” Buffy quickly assessed the girl’s wounds and signaled one of the others to call for medical assistance. While Bobbi quickly dialed her cell and nodded that an ambulance was on the way, Buffy continued her interrogation. “Where is Becky?”

“They…they have Becky,” Janie sobbed. “I tried to warn her…”

“What happened?” Buffy repeated, shaking her slightly when it seemed she might be losing consciousness.

Janie’s eyes went to the other girls from her slayer cadre. Ignoring Buffy, she spoke to them.

“We found Molly,” she said. “And…Dora…”

“You found them? You mean you found their bodies? The vamps had them?” Indignation and grief lent a note of hysteria to the questions.

Buffy’s face drained of color as she remembered Spike’s frown when he heard that two girls had gone missing but no bodies were found. She waved the girls to silence and asked quietly, “What have they done to them?”

“Molly is…I think she might be dead now. But they had her hanging from chains and I think…I think they were taking turns drinking from her. She had bites everywhere.”

“Using her as a blood source,” Buffy growled. “Slayer blood is very powerful. They wouldn’t need to take much to get stronger.”

While the other girls shuddered and winced in sympathy for their fallen sister, Buffy continued her pursuit of information.

“What about Dora? Were they drinking from her, too?”

Janie’s eyes got wide. “No. Not anymore, they aren’t. She…they…I almost didn’t get away…” She stopped, unable to put into words what she’d been fleeing from when she spotted Buffy and the other slayers. Buffy could see when what she’d been unable to say began to register on the other girls.

“They turned her? Dora’s a vampire?”

Shock, horror and disgust battled for first place on the faces of the remaining slayers. Janie nodded silently, shuddering as she remembered how close she’d come to joining Molly in chains.

“Becky!” she yelped suddenly. “We have to go help Becky! Dora beat her and threw her to some of the minions. They’re going to…”

“I imagine they already have, pet,” came a sober voice from the alley beside them. Sheltering in the shade of the wall, Spike gestured toward the building he knew so well, not quite visible from where they were. “They know now that we’re coming. Chanterelle’s going to want all her minions charged up on Slayer blood before they have to fight us. Come over here to chat, ladies; it’s still a bit too bright out there to suit me.”

Buffy herded the angry slayers to the alley’s entrance, taking a quick look around as she did so - in spite of the sun that should have meant none of the vampires could see them. She knew that didn’t mean that Chanterelle couldn’t be using her knowledge of the weaknesses in the surrounding population to add a few human minions to her group. She quickly joined Spike in the shade and waited to hear if he’d learned anything.

“I tried to get inside,” he said, ignoring Buffy’s furious gasp. “Used to be able to get into the basement from the sewers. Came in handy for getting around in the daytime.” He continued his description of the building’s basement as if unaware that Buffy was glaring at him in a way that promised serious retribution for his attempt to enter without backup. “Went right to it, but the door was welded shut. Bloody stupid move on Chanterelle’s part, if you ask me. Means they’ve got no way to escape…” He shrugged. “But it means none of us can get in that way, either.”

“So, we know they can’t escape through the sewers…” Buffy cocked her head at the entrance to the alley and watched the lengthening shadows of the broken parking meters. “And if we get there soon enough, they won’t be able to run outside either.”

“Let’s go then.”

As one, the vengeance-bound slayers whirled away from the alley. Buffy waved them out, cautioning that they should be alert for traps near the building and that they should wait for her before attacking. She turned to frown at Spike.

“You heard what Janie said, right? That Dora’s been turned?”

“I heard it.”

“Be careful,” was all she said, brushing her lips over his.

“Always, love.” He faded back into the shadows to make his way back to the shelter through the alleys and deserted buildings.

Buffy was surprised to find Janie waiting for her. She’d refused to leave with the EMTs until Buffy came back.

“Why did you tell him to be careful?” she asked, staring in the direction Spike had disappeared. “Wouldn’t he, anyway?”

“Spike has a…history…with slayers,” Buffy said tersely. “I was just reminding him that this one is both a vampire and a slayer.”

“Do you think he’s going to go after Dora? She beat Becky without even trying. And she almost…I only got away because I was close to the door and the sun was coming in. I just rolled into the sunbeam and crawled out before she could grab a net.”

“A net?”

“Oh, yeah. There were nets laying around and hanging from the ceiling. I guess that’s probably how they got Molly and Dora.”

Buffy fought the urge to shake the other girl.

“What else should we know? Nets? Turned slayer? What else?”

“Um…the windows are backed with plywood. They don’t break very easily. But the door is broken now,” she concluded with a hopeful smile, her eyes drifting shut. The EMT’s frown as he shoved Buffy aside made it clear that she had obtained all the information likely from Janie. She nodded her head and waved them off.

Since the last days of Sunnydale, she’d become so accustomed to her role as Head Slayer – she who is to be obeyed - that it never occurred to her to wonder why the ambulance staff had been so willing to wait to take off with their patient. It wasn’t until she heard Bobbi’s whispered, “Thanks, Brian,” that she realized that collecting injured slayers had become a familiar task to many members of the Los Angeles Emergency Services.

Buffy smiled her understanding at Bobbi and joined her in striding towards the small group of slayers waiting obediently, if impatiently, on the curb.

“All right,” she said crisply, falling easily into her “General Buffy” persona, “we know the windows are reinforced, so good thing we brought the axes. Although…” Buffy cocked her head at the rapidly sinking sun. “I don’t think we want to waste a lot of time on breaking them. Just knock out one or two to give us as much of an advantage as we can get for as long as we can get it. Watch out for the nets – they may be hanging from the ceiling,” she said, recalling Janie’s words, as well as some of the Initiative’s methods for capturing demons and vampires. “So look up before you go into any open spaces. Don’t forget these vampires have been juicing on slayer blood. They might be a little faster and stronger than usual. Don’t fool around, stake or behead and move on.”

“What about Dora?”

“Spike will take care of Dora,” Buffy said confidently. She decided it wasn’t the best time to explain to the girls why he’d chosen to remove the most dangerous opponent, nor why she wasn’t as worried about it as they seemed to expect her to be.

“And you’re going to dust Chanterelle?”

“I’m going to dust any vamp that gets in my way,” Buffy growled. “But I’ll be looking for her.”

~~~~~~~~~