“Go!” Buffy ordered, slamming the van door shut behind her, and Xander pulled out of the deserted parking lot before she was even seated, slinging her back against the seat.

“Buffy,” Spike spoke softly from the back of the van.

“Shut up,” Buffy snapped.

Willow turned around in the front seat to look at the passengers they had picked up. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight of the blood that covered them. “Um, Buffy?” she said hesitantly, frowning. “What happened back there?”

Buffy did not respond, simply glared straight ahead at the back of Xander’s seat.

“Um, Buffy…please…” Spike tried again; his voice sounded weak.

Whirling around in her seat Buffy fixed a murderous look on him and snarled, “You are about two seconds from getting staked and I am *not* playing around! This had better be damn important!”

“How far is your house from the Initiative?”

Irritated, Buffy replied, “About thirty miles or so, why?”

Spike swallowed hard, his eyes showing some relief, but still uncertain as he answered her, “Good. Um…we…we need to get as far as we can from here as fast as we can because…”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Xander interrupted.

But Buffy was frowning, “I know, but because why?” she pressed him.

“The manual control for my chip…it has a twenty mile radius…when the chips go back up…”

In spite of her anger Buffy was struck with fear for the vampire. Cordova probably already knew that Riley had been killed and Spike and his childe had escaped, and she was *not* going to be pleased.

Turning back to Willow she asked anxiously, “How much time do we have before…”

Her words broke off as a moan of pain came from the backseat. She looked around to see Spike doubled over, holding his head in his hands. Her anger momentarily forgotten as a stronger surge from the chip hit him and he gasped for unnecessary breath, falling forward with his face to the floor in the back of the van, Buffy reacted without thinking. “*Drive*, Xander! We need to get as far from the Initiative as possible, now!” she almost shouted, climbing over the seat into the back with the vampires.

Diana struck a defensive posture over her suffering sire, her eyes warning Buffy away. This stranger to her was stronger than either of them, and to all appearances furious with them both. If she meant to hurt Spike, she would have to go through Diana to do it.

That was easy enough. “Back off,” Buffy ordered, shoving the weakened vampiress out of her way. “I’m not gonna hurt him.” As she knelt down beside him and put her arms around his reeling form, pulling him back up to his knees, she muttered resentfully, “Yet.”

“Can she kill you with this thing, Spike?” she asked him, her voice slow and distinct, trying to cut through the agony he was enduring.

He shook his head before resting it on her arm in front of him. “Just make me…” he gasped out. “…wanna die.”

“Shh,” she whispered, unthinkingly smoothing his disheveled, blood-matted hair back from his face. In spite of her anger with him, she could still not be anything but gentle with him in the face of his intense suffering. “Just hold on, we’ll be out of range soon.” She turned to call to the front, “How far have we gone?”

Glancing at the odometer, Xander called back, “Ten miles, maybe?”

Another vicious spasm of pain gripped Spike at that moment, and he clutched at her arm, gasping. And because she could do nothing else, she sat down on the floor of the van and held him, her arms around him, crooning soothing nothings into his ear.

The pain had never been this absolutely excruciating, this intense, before. Never. Not even when he had attacked the soldier who was beating Diana. Nothing he had ever experienced compared in any way to the long-distance punishment Cordova was subjecting him to. All he could do was cling desperately to the soft arms supporting him and wait, wait for it to finally pass. Some distant part of his pain-wracked consciousness was aware enough to be surprised that the Slayer was sitting here with him, holding him, comforting him through his agony.

After ten minutes or so that felt like an eternity, he felt the pain slowly beginning to ebb. His body shook violently, his muscles impossibly tensed and tight. Even after he knew that the chip had stopped firing, the pain still tore through him with the aftershock effect of the electric current the chip sent out. Gradually, however, it became manageable. He started breathing again.

Buffy still sat there, her arms around him. Slowly, cautiously, he pulled his head up to look her in the eye. “B-buffy…” he began, his voice almost timid, his eyes hopeful.

His heart sank as he literally *saw* the compassion and concern she had not been able to hide hardening into hurt and anger again in her eyes, as soon as she realized that he was going to be okay. She shook her head as she looked away from him, then abruptly unentangled herself from him and climbed back over the seat.

As they pulled into the driveway, Xander said, “And you’re sure they won’t be able to track us here?”

Buffy looked to Spike, a question in her eyes…a purely business sort of question. He could read nothing else there.

He shook his head. “No. The tracking device in my chip only works through the manual control…and we’re out of its range now.”

“Good,” Buffy said, her voice cold as she turned around. “What about the cameras, Will? You’re sure they were down the entire time?”

Willow nodded emphatically. “In fact,” she said, pausing as she scrolled down the screen of her laptop. “They’re just now getting them back up, right….now. So their videos wouldn’t have picked up anything from right before midnight until now.”

Buffy nodded, satisfied, and opened the door.

As she came around the back to open the door and let Spike and Diana out, he was thinking fast. This situation could get very bad for them, very fast, if the Slayer’s little fan club found out about what had happened to Riley. With their outrage to support her, the Slayer might very well decide to stake them, even after all the trouble she had gone to to save them. As he waited for her to open the door, he caught Diana’s eye, and she nodded, understanding. They were going to try to make a run for it.

But the Slayer was ready for them. Spike’s feet had barely even hit the ground when she had him firmly by the arm and shoved him up against the inside of the open door. She smiled a wide, false smile, with a dangerous glint in her eyes, as she said softly, “Don’t even think about it.”

Instinctively he tried to push her back, before remembering that his chip was working again. He winced at the pain caused by the attempt, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw that she looked angrier than before. *Oh, bollocks.* He nodded his submission quickly, saying quietly, “Ok…ok, Buffy…”

Diana, standing a few feet from him, let out a warning growl toward the woman manhandling her sire. Buffy’s grip on Spike’s arm tightened painfully as she went on, “And you better keep Princess Di over there under control. I know she’s chipped, but, ya know, if you wanna hurt someone bad enough…” Her hand tightened again, and Spike winced. “…you’re gonna find a way. So I think we’d all be a lot happier if you’d make sure she knows to back off. We clear?”

He nodded again, his head down, then turned as much as he could toward his childe and said, keeping his voice much calmer and cooler than he actually felt, “It’s ok, pet. Calm down now. You’re upsetting our friend, here.”

Diana looked unsure, but she obeyed her sire as always, and ceased her growling, taking a step back. Buffy had been wise to go for him and not Diana, he thought ruefully. The vampiress would not run as long as she thought he was in any danger.

“There we go,” Buffy’s false smile was back and she moved back a little to allow him to step away from the van, still gripping his arm, but not so painfully now. “That’s better. Now let’s get inside.”

At the door they paused. “Spike, Diana, come in,” Buffy said.

The moment they were through the doorway, Buffy released Spike’s arm with a disgusted gesture of her hand, as if she could not get her hand off him fast enough. He was a little surprised as the door was still open when she did.

She caught his confused glance toward the door and smirked. “Containment spell. Now that you’re in, you’re not leaving ‘til we take the barrier down.”

He felt an odd sinking feeling in his stomach; well, whatever the Slayer intended for them, there was nothing they could do about it now. Then his thoughts were momentarily distracted from pondering their fate, at the sight of the figure who had just emerged from the basement.

“Darian!” he said, surprised, though the Slayer had told him he was here. He hadn’t given the lad a thought in the events of the evening.

“Sire!” Darian’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of him. He had known they would be bringing Diana back, but the plan had not been for Spike to come with her. As he walked slowly to stand before his sire, his eyes welling with tears, and an almost awed expression, he looked at the Slayer and said softly, “I knew you wouldn’t leave him. Thank you.”

Before Spike had time to wonder about that, the Slayer’s response made his stomach flip over inside him.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she muttered, casting a dark look toward their little reunion. Then she turned her attention toward her friends, who had turned worried, expectant faces toward her. It was obvious from Buffy’s demeanor, the way she was treating the vamps they had gone to rescue like prisoners, that something unexpected had gone down in the Initiative. But as of yet she had not explained anything to them.

She did not intend to yet. She did not yet understand herself all of what had happened, or how she felt about it, or how she should feel about it. She knew that Riley had done unspeakable things to Diana, and she could understand the rage that could have erupted when the young vampiress’s powerlessness was suddenly lifted from her, and she was faced with the opportunity to have her vengeance. And the horrific carnage she had seen – well, the girl *was* a vampire…so it would stand to reason that her vengeance would involve much bloodshed.

But there was no way that she could justify what had been done to Riley. He *was* after all, still a person. Still a part of the humanity that she was duty-bound to protect. Riley should have been brought to justice for the crimes he’d committed against Diana, but not brutally tortured and murdered like that. A tiny part of her furiously raging mind reminded her that justice did not exist for someone like Diana, someone who legally did not even exist, was not human – that no one but her would have ever attempted to help the girl.

Her stomach twisted in her, sick at the thought. Guilt overwhelmed her. If she had not attempted to help Diana, had not shut down her chip, Riley would still be alive. *Would still be abusing her,* that traitorous part of her mind inserted. Suddenly she wondered why Riley and Diana had both been in Spike’s suite that night to begin with.

She glanced over at the three vampires talking quietly, intently, in the kitchen doorway, and noticed for the first time the bloody welts on Diana’s legs, visible under her short, tattered skirt. And Spike… God, he was a mess! His face, chest and back were bruised and covered in dried blood from countless wounds, like the ones on Diana’s legs. She had not seen the extent of the damage done to him, even when she had held him in the darkness of the van.

Suddenly she stalked toward the three, stepping between them to face Spike. She felt a mingled feeling of guilt and satisfaction when he almost imperceptibly flinched back, tensing as she took his arm and pulled him unceremoniously toward the basement stairs. Diana looked worried and started to follow; Darian was worried too, but pulled her back. He knew better than to think that either of them could do anything to stop whatever the Slayer was going to do.

“Diana, stay with your brother,” Buffy ordered sharply, opening the basement door. “Your daddy and I are going to have a little chat.”