Chapter Fifteen Astroturf

Eventually Buffy began to feel the chill of the underground room and she wriggled to get Spike's attention.

"Hey," she said. "Can you stop your imitation of a leech long enough to let me pull up the covers?"

"Sorry," he said, raising his head and fastening his mouth on her lips instead. "You just taste like ambrosia to me. All of you does."

"I don't even know what ambrosia is," she grumbled to hide her embarrassment. "But I do know I'm getting cold."

He rolled off immediately and fumbled around at the foot of the bed until he found the sheets and the fluffy quilt, which he pulled over both of them.

"Better, luv?" He curved himself around her, pulling her against his chest and breathing his question into her ear.

"Mmmmmmm" Still safe in the absolute darkness, Buffy allowed herself to cuddle back against him without considering the implications. She'd quit bothering to try to see, actually shutting her eyes against the ache caused by their fruitless efforts to make sense out of the utter nothingness around her. Instead, she nuzzled into the bicep upon which her head was resting and put her hand atop the muscular arm encircling her body. Their legs were tangled together, her body pressed back against his.

When his lips went once more to her neck, leaving light kisses and licking occasionally, she asked drowsily, "Are you going start sucking on me again? Cause, really? Giant, Spike's mouth-shaped hickeys all over my neck probably isn't a fashion accessory I really need. And I'm pretty sure Giles isn't going to appreciate the look..."

His chuckle shook them both, and he nipped lightly at her throat before responding.

"I expect you're right, pet. You're just so delicious, I can't help myself."

Buffy rolled over to face him, in spite of not being able to see the eyes she wanted to glare into.

"Is this some sublimated vampire can't bite so he sucks kinda thing?"

"Prob'ly," he admitted cheerfully, taking advantage of her new position to nip at her lower lip. "Is that a problem?"

"Is it a problem? That'd you'd rather be biting me? Yeah, I think you could say it's a problem."
Her body was rigid, her tone icy as she turned her head away from his nibbling mouth. Only the genuine confusion in Spike's voice kept her from driving her knee into the parts only inches away.

"But... Buffy... Slayer...." He sighed and loosened his grip on her no longer pliant body. "Doesn't mean I want to kill you. For vampires, biting is part of making—shagging. Even if I could bite you, it wouldn't be to kill you... or for food...."

"Oh? Then what exactly would it be?" There was no forgiveness in her voice, nor did she relax her tensed muscles. One hand rested against his chest as if prepared to shove him away should it become necessary.

His voice hardened a little to match the anger rolling off her. "You know what, Slayer? I'm guessing you really don't want to know exactly what it would be. All you need to know is that I wouldn't have hurt you if I could."

The black atmosphere that had made it so easy to forget who they were was now a frustration as she struggled to see his eyes, his face, something she could read to help her understand if the pain she thought she detected under the anger in his voice was real or her imagination. When he sighed and rolled onto his back, leaving one arm under her head, but taking the other one away, she followed his example by rolling onto her own back and staring into the darkness.

After long minutes of silence, Spike sighed again and gently pulled his arm out from underneath her head.

"It'll be dark soon," he said, sitting up and feeling around for his pants. "Time to get out and about." He found the jeans and pulled them on, taking his lighter out of his pocket as he did so. Although he really couldn't see in the complete darkness any better than Buffy could, his knowledge of where'd he put things and his predator's ability to sense his surroundings allowed him to find the candles and he soon had light flickering around them.

After so much time in complete darkness, even the soft light from the candles made Buffy squint and flinch away. When she opened her eyes again, Spike was standing by the bed, silently holding out her clothes. His face was closed, and Buffy had no idea what he was thinking as she took them from him and struggled to pull on her jeans without removing the quilt she was holding up to her chest. He shook his head with a sad snort and turned away.

"Go on, Slayer," he said gruffly. "Not goin' to try to peek at you this time. Just get dressed and tell me what you want me to bring back for your dinner."

The reminder that she was in hiding did nothing to improve Buffy's disposition. She sat up and quickly dressed, pulling on her socks and shoes before standing up.

"You... you can turn around now," she said with uncharacteristic meekness, before remembering that she was being hunted. "And I'm going out with you. I can't stay in here any longer than I already have. If Giles hasn't straightened this out yet, then I'll just go find Maggie Walsh and straighten her out myself."

"Don't be stupid, Slayer. You heard them yourself. That sadistic bitch thinks you're one of us. You'll be lucky if you don't end up with a chip in your head."

"I'm going out," she repeated. "We'll go find Giles and make sure those soldiers didn't hurt him, and then—"

A sound from above had Spike holding up his hand for silence. He listened intently, then smiled.

"Think the Watcher's here. You stay down here while I make sure he's alone."

Without waiting to see if she'd obeyed, he jumped to the top of the ladder and pushed aside the cover. He went to the door, listened carefully for a second, then opened the inner door. He grinned as the sound of cursing accompanied Giles obviously unsuccessful attempts to open the heavy, outer door; he laughed aloud when the man muffled a shriek when it suddenly opened in front of him.

Giles glared at Spike, then pushed his way into the dark crypt.

"Where's Buffy?" he demanded, straining to see in the unlit upper area. His eyes caught the glow from the entrance to the lower level just as Buffy's head appeared.

Ignoring Spike's muttered, "I told you to stay put," she ran up to Giles and studied his face. A black eye and a swollen lip told her what she wanted to know and her face hardened into something that made both Spike and her watcher flinch.

"They are sooo dead," she said, adding with a guilty shrug when Giles coughed, "Okay, not dead dead, cause that would be wrong... but definitely fat lip, black eye, lots of bruises kind of dead."

"I'll live," Giles said shortly. "And you'll have to avoid them a while longer. The Council has put things in motion to have the operation shut down. It appears that there was something similar to what the Initiative is doing during the Second World War. The records are not complete, but they are quite clear."

"The Army was capturing demons and putting chips in their heads during WWII?"

"Not your army, pet," Spike's voice had taken on an entirely different note, one that reminded her that he was really well over a hundred years old and had been, at one time, one of the most feared vampires in Europe. "The Germans. How could I have forgotten? But I thought Peaches shut it down." He turned to look at the astonished watcher. "And how did the Council of Wankers know about it?"

Giles stared at him thoughtfully. "They wouldn't tell me how they knew – just that the records reflected an attempt by the Germans to develop an army of vampires. Apparently it was thwarted at the time. What are you talking about?"

Spike shrugged. "Ended up on a submarine for a while with some nasty pieces of work. We were eating our way through the crew when Peaches was sent to the rescue. You'd have to ask him how he got involved. All I know is we ended up with an American crew and he made me swim to shore. Wanker," he muttered as he turned away. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

Giles studied Spike intently while Buffy stared back and forth between the two of them, her impatience clear. When Giles was satisfied with whatever he was looking for in the vampire's face, he nodded.

"It would appear that the idea and some of the technology survived and has been resurrected by the Initiative. It may take some time for the inspectors to get here, but I'm confident that when they do, the program will be terminated. In the meantime," he turned to Buffy, "you would do best to remain out of sight until we can be assured you are safe."

"Giles..." Buffy's voice took on a whining tone that made him sigh and reach for his glasses. "I'm boooored...." A sound from the far side of the room made her glance away from her watcher just in time to see Spike throw a bottle against the wall. She bit her lip, and began, "Not... I didn't mean—" but Spike cut her off.

"You won't be 'bored' again, Slayer. I'm going out." He pointed to the bags in Giles's hands. "Looks like the watcher brought you some food, so no need for me to hurry back, is there?"

"Spike..." There was no reply as the vampire swept out the open door, and literally vanished into the air. Before Buffy could react to the shouts and snarls outside, several armed men burst into the crypt. Two of them fired simultaneously, hitting Buffy with tranquilizer darts that rendered her unconscious before she could to more than try to yank them out. She dropped to the floor and was immediately trussed up in a wire mesh net.

Riley stared at Giles with a mixture of guilt and satisfaction. "I told them if we followed you, you'd lead us to Buffy. We weren't expecting to get Hostile Seventeen at the same time, but we'll take it."

Trembling with fury, Giles gritted out, "Your organization is on it's way out, you fool. I expect it to be shut down within days, if not hours." His demeanor was nothing like that of an unemployed librarian as he glared at the men. "I will be holding all of you personally responsible for any harm that comes to my slayer before that happens."

Riley looked momentarily uncomfortable and thoughtful, but the others laughed and carried their unconscious burden outside to drop her on the ground next to Spike's equally trussed up and unconscious body. Within minutes a large, black SUV pulled up and Buffy and Spike were tossed into the back. Giles stood in the doorway, fuming helplessly as the remaining soldiers kept their guns aimed at him.

"What do we do with him, Finn?" one of the asked, gesturing with his gun.

Riley shrugged. "It's dark. Let him go. If he can make it out of a Sunnydale cemetery at night in one piece, more power to him. If not...."

With no more conversation, the black-clad commandos faded away into the shadows, guns trained on Giles until they disappeared. When he was sure they had left, Giles pulled a stake from his pocket and patted his other pocket for his vial of holy water, then stalked toward the gates, already mentally composing his report to the Council.

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Buffy recovered consciousness very slowly – using her ears and other senses to get an idea of her surroundings before she opened her eyes. Suddenly, she was grateful for the hours spent in darkness as she found herself able to sense things she probably would have missed if her eyes were open. She could hear the sussuration of a ventilation system, could sense the barely discernible pressure that now said "underground" to her, and she could feel the presence of at least one vampire.

Her face was pressed into a rough, flat surface, which was not quite a rug, but felt as if it would give good traction when she needed it. As she felt the vampire signature approaching, she gathered herself, then sprang to her feet, landing in a crouch with her eyes open. The vampire attacked, meeting only air as Buffy went from her crouch to a spot several feet away. He snarled and charged again, meeting a flurry of punches that sent him to the floor of the large open room. Buffy followed up with a kick to his temple that rendered him unconscious long enough for her to do a quick visual search for a weapon.

She saw nothing useful at first. The room was largely empty, the floor covered with some sort of artificial turf that gave it almost the same feel as hard ground. As the vamp began to stir, she spotted a wooden desk in the corner and quickly ran to it, snatching it up by one corner and breaking off one of the legs.

"It's a good thing you're skinny," she said to the vampire, driving the short make-shift stake into his chest as he staggered to his feet. She watched the dust float to the floor, gazing around with satisfaction. Motion from above caught her eye and she squinted at the windows she could see set into the walls above her. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted both Riley and Maggie Walsh.