“So what’s your brilliant plan, Slayer? Enlighten me,” Spike asked, making his voice as nonchalant as possible. Now that he had gotten a few things out of his system, some of the fire had gone out of his rant – along with some of the strength from his body. He walked toward the wall, then turned to face her, pressing his hands against the wall for support, while trying not to look as if he was leaning on it.

He could never remember the chip’s effect on him being this painful, or lasting this long. The general must have used a higher setting than she ever had before. He felt incredibly weak already, and his emotional outburst had sapped most of his remaining strength. He could feel the pain, forgotten during those first few minutes with Buffy, returning, and with it the violent tremors that shook his body.

Though he tried to hide it, Buffy saw his weakness, and that merely staying on his feet was taking a toll on him. Casually she moved to sit down on the floor near where he stood, hoping that he would take his cue to do the same.

“I don’t really have one, to be honest with you,” she admitted. “I figured I’d find out what you know first, see if the Initiative has any weaknesses we can work with, anything like that, before making any definite plans. I figure if I’m in with General Cordova, I’ll have a lot more access and be able to do a lot more to help.”

As she had hoped, once she was seated, he felt that he could sit as well without giving away his weakness to her, and just before he did Buffy thought she saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes.

“Know quite a bit, actually, Slayer. What exactly were you wanting to know?” he asked, his weariness creeping into his voice, despite his best efforts to cover it up.

Buffy was silent for a moment. Then she said quietly, “I met Darian.”

Spike looked up at her in surprise for a moment. Then he looked away again as he asked, “Did you dust him?”

She looked at him, studying his expression. He had a practicedly unconcerned expression on his face, but she could see the worry in his eyes. She realized with surprise that he really cared what happened to his missing childe.

*But why should that surprise me?* she reminded herself. *Duh, Buffy. Drusilla?*

“Well, considering that I’m on a first-name basis with him, ‘no’ would be a good guess, wouldn’t it?” she said dryly. “I don’t usually get a name before I stake.” She paused. “He said you’re his sire.”

“Yes.”

“And you sired him *here*.”

He paused. “Yes. By order of her bitchiness, General Whore-dova.”

Buffy let out a short laugh before his words fully registered with her, and she sobered. “My God,” she whispered. “Then it’s true. The Initiative is turning people into vampires.”

Spike nodded once.

“Why?” she asked.

He took a deep breath before launching into a description of Cordova’s plan for her vampire army, concluding with his siring of the potential-officer vamps.

“Okay, color me confused,” Buffy said, frowning. “But what is Cordova trying to raise this big army for? Unless the whole US army is involved, but I don’t really think that’s likely.”

“Oh, but *this*, you completely saw coming,” Spike pointed out sarcastically with a raised eyebrow, and Buffy found that instead of being annoyed at his snarkiness, she was relieved to see its return.

“Point taken,” she admitted.

“To your credit, though, Slayer,” he went on, “I do think this is her own little personal hobby horse she’s riding here, not some huge government conspiracy. I think she’s using the Initiative to further some plan of her own she’s got in the works.”

Buffy nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “So what would she want to build an army for?”

“Diabolical plans of world domination?” Spike guessed with a smirk.

Buffy smiled in spite of herself. The tension was slowly easing out of her as he seemed to relax with her a bit, at least outwardly. She thought for a moment, trying to think what to ask next; there were so many questions in her mind. Her fingers running idly over the object in her pocket that the general had given to her, she took it out, frowning at it.

“What’s this thing, anyway?” she asked him, tossing it carelessly in her hand.

Spike’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open as he searched for words before exploding, “Bloody hell, woman! Be careful with that!” Without thought he reached out and snatched it from her hand.

“Hey!” Buffy started to object, shooting him an indignant look – which froze when she saw the expression on his face.

He seemed to have forgotten her, and was staring at the tiny object in his hand, an intense emotion in his eyes – anger? fear? loathing? awe? some odd combination of them all? As she watched his eyes narrowed in hatred and his fist tightened around the tiny thing as if he would crush it to pieces.

“Do that and my cover’s pretty much shot,” she reminded him mildly. “Unless you’ve got a story I can tell the general to explain how you managed to get it away from me when you can’t fight me or resist me in any way.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Slayer,” he smirked, a mocking lilt to his voice. “There’s still at least a couple of ways in which I can resist you.” But the barb was almost automatic; his attention still riveted on the device in his hand. Finally, his fist slowly opened, and he shrugged, feigning indifference as he met her eyes again. “Can’t break it anyway. Thing’s rigged so if it’s broken chip fires automatically. Without stopping. ‘Til the soddin’ thing wears out.”

Buffy’s eyes must have revealed her horror at that information, because he quickly looked away from her as he said, “Couldn’t kill me. Well, short of making me stake myself.”

Buffy swallowed hard, looking at the floor. “Do all the vamps here have chips like yours?”

“They all have chips,” he nodded slowly. “This little piece of work though,” he nodded toward his hand. “Specially designed just for me. All the others – pre-programmed to only go off for specific behaviors – like mine was before, you know. I’m the only one that poses enough of a threat to warrant a bit stronger leash.” He flashed her a grim smile as he finished.

Buffy was aghast, sickened by the knowledge of what they had done to him.

“Don’t look so down in the mouth, love,” he said softly, seeing the expression on her face. “It’s not like they did it to a human.” His tone was pointed, but not cruel. He was not angry with her anymore; he was only trying to make his point.

So why did she feel so incredibly guilty?

Smiling at her in a sort of gentle way, as if wanting to ease the guilt for her – though why should he want to, she wondered – he held out the device to her. “Just be careful with that, love,” he said quietly. “The thing’s a bit touchy ‘round the trigger.”

She was silent for a moment, desperately searching for another question to ask, anything to change this dreadful subject, before she finally asked, “So where does Diana fit into the mix?”

Spike looked away suddenly, the soft smile fading. He took a deep breath before turning to look her in the eye, his gaze intense and challenging. “Be sure you really want to know the answer to that question, Slayer.”

Something in his look made her suddenly feel panicked, and she knew that whatever he was going to say would not just horrify her in the general sense that everything she had seen since she had arrived here had horrified her; but rather would touch her painfully on some personal level. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to maintain eye contact with him as she said softly, “I want to know. Tell me.”

He looked at her for a moment before saying in a very soft, deadly voice, “A certain soldier in this outfit with a very high-ranking position decided not to take no for an answer when she said she wasn’t interested. Had her brought here and made into his personal sex slave – of the non-human variety, of course, so he can indulge his nasty little fantasies guilt-free.” The cold calm of his voice was chilling to her; she heard in it all the things he would have loved to subject that certain soldier to.

There was something else in his voice that made her feel sick, something insistently knocking at the door of her conscious, seeking entrance; something that her subconscious rushed in panic to lock out.

Then with a simple statement, Spike kicked the mental door down, allowing the truth to flood inside.

“Diana resemble anyone you know, Slayer?”

Buffy stood up suddenly, eyes wide with shock as she stared down at him. “What are you saying?” she demanded, her voice trembling.

“Think it out, Slayer,” Spike said in that same quiet voice. “What sort of bloke would be attracted to just such a girl as our little Diana?”

Buffy shook her head in denial of the facts that were slowly taking shape in her mind. “No,” she whispered.

Spike nodded slowly, looking her in the eye. Then, he was glancing between her eyes and her hand, and she realized that she was subconsciously turning the device in her hand in an almost frantic way. Quickly she put it in her pocket, not wanting it to go off accidentally, and saw Spike’s visible relief. But it didn’t quite register; nothing was connecting in her mind – she couldn’t let it.

“Oh my God,” Buffy moaned, turning away from him, her hand to her mouth. “I’m going to be sick.”

Spike slowly stood, taking a step toward her. “Slayer,” he began, not sure what to say.

She just held out a hand, shaking her head, still turned away from him. “Don’t,” she rasped.

He stood there uncomfortably, not sure what he could do to make this better. Suddenly he regretted telling her, though he knew that she had to know, sooner or later.

Finally, she turned to face him, and her tear-filled eyes were full of a fiery anger. “My hour in here is almost up,” she told him, glancing at her watch. “I’m going to get in. Cordova accepts me. We’re gonna spend a little time getting what information we need to know how to stop them. A *very* little time. Days at the most. I’m gonna work out a way to see you again, and we’ll compare notes then. Find out whatever you can in the meantime and we’ll work out a plan next time. Agreed?”

He nodded slowly, never taking his eyes from hers.

She paused, looking down for a moment, before meeting his eyes again. “The Initiative is going down,” she declared in a voice trembling with rage. “And Riley Finn is going with it!”