Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fade to Grey

Willow was so intent on the computer screen in front of her that she let out a little cry and jumped, startled by the soft touch on her shoulder. Whirling around, her eyes widened in stunned surprise at the sight of the person who had startled her out of her focus.

“Buffy!” she gasped. “What are you doing up?”

They had returned to the mansion at just after midnight. Now, the first rays of dawn were peeking through the drawn shades on the windows, and Willow had no thought of stopping her work. Not until she had found the solution.

Buffy didn’t answer her question, but Willow could not miss her labored breathing, and the way she was leaning on the back of Willow’s chair to support herself.

“What happened?” Buffy demanded, fiery green eyes meeting hers and insisting on nothing less than the full truth.

“He – he gave himself up for you, Buffy,” Willow said softly, her eyes not faltering from her friend’s intent gaze. “He knew that if he came with us she’d track us here…so he went another way and tried to get away…but…but he had to have known he couldn’t.”

Buffy was silent for a moment, a stony expression on her face which was obviously – at least to Willow – an attempt to cover what she was feeling. “We’ve got to go back,” she said at last. “We’re going to go back, and we’re going to rescue him – and then I’m going to slap him around for a while and stake his stupid butt for doing such an idiotic thing!”

Willow almost smiled at Buffy’s plan of action, but held it back because of the look in her friend’s eyes. Those fierce, hard eyes were brimming with tears, and her lower lip was trembling just slightly as she fought to hold them back. Willow glanced down, and noticed with alarm that Buffy’s hand on the back of the chair was shaking violently, and she did not think that it was only with emotion.

“Buffy,” Willow said softly, standing to move behind the chair and help support her. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere yet. You couldn’t help him – not like this.”

Buffy’s tears spilled over at that, in frustration and fear. “I have to, Will! I can’t let him stay there! I can’t let her do the things to him that she – I can’t – I…” Her voice trailed off as the tears overcame her.

“Buffy – you just can’t – not yet.” Willow’s voice was gentle as she sought her friend’s eyes earnestly.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” Buffy’s voice came out in a desperate whisper. “I can’t just sit here while she tortures him and kills him. I can’t!”

“I’ve been working on a way to help him, Buffy,” Willow said, a hopeful note in her voice as she carefully helped Buffy to sit down in the chair beside hers. “I’ve been looking through Cordova’s main database, and you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I’ve found! I – I think I’ve found the way to get them shut down for good!”

Buffy looked surprised. “Tell me,” she nodded, a grim satisfaction in her eyes. At least something was going right.

“Well, here it is. The Initiative is like, kind of under suspicion by the government, even though they’re funding it and all, because of the last time and everything that happened. Spike was right. This whole vamp army thing Cordova is doing is all her. The government doesn’t really know anything about it. And according to her notes, she’s pretty desperate to keep it that way.”

“Why is she even doing it?” Buffy wanted to know, a growing anger in her eyes toward the evil, sadistic monster who was as they spoke torturing the man she loved.

“Well…from what I can tell,” Willow drew a deep breath before she went on, “it seems like some kind of…arms deal. Like, she’s – she’s planning on turning these vampires into the ultimate weapons of mass destruction – and selling them off to the highest bidder.”

Despite all she had learned about Cordova’s nature, that shocked Buffy. “Then – she’s a traitor?”

“At least willing to be,” Willow shrugged. “From what I read, she doesn’t seem to care who she sells them to – or who she sells out. She’s just all about wealth and power.”

“Well, that explains why,” Buffy mused, frowning. “But you said we could stop her…how?”

“Since the Initiative is still on I guess you might call it probation,” Willow went on. “the government has safeguards in place…to prevent anything happening like last time, when all those people got killed when the demons escaped?”

Buffy nodded her remembrance.

“So…the whole place is equipped with a – a panic button so to speak. If at any point someone with enough clearance to have access to it thinks that things seem to be out of control, the entire place can be locked down completely. No one getting in or out. At the same time, a signal is sent to the authorities in Washington letting them know that the panic button’s been set off. So they send a special force down to check it out,” Willow explained, slowly so that it was all clear.

Buffy was nodding in understanding. “And they find her vampire army, and her records about it. And the Initiative is shut down, and Cordova rots in prison.” She paused, glaring at the wall, obviously imagining the general there. “Which is way too easy a punishment for her,” she muttered with hatred in her tone. She paused to digest what Willow had just told her, before going on, “So if we can set off the panic button….”

“We can shut down the Initiative,” Willow nodded.

“But that doesn’t help Spike,” Buffy pointed out, her voice low and grim. “We have to get him out of there.”

Willow took another deep breath, and looked away for a moment.

“What?” Buffy demanded. It was clear that there was something her friend had not told her yet.

Willow looked back at her, determination, and some other unknown emotion in her eyes. “I think I’ve found a way.”

“What is it? Anything, Will! We’ve got to get him out of there before she kills him!” Buffy insisted.

“I’ve found the control to shut down the chips. Scramble the signals so well that the back-ups will be useless. The chips would be shut down for good,” Willow explained, her voice low and carefully expressionless. “All the chips,” she added quietly.

Buffy was silent as she took that in. “Once we set off the panic button…the facility is locked down. Right? No vamps getting out until the special unit gets there.”

“Right.”

Buffy thought for a moment longer. She put her hands over her eyes and rested her elbows on the table, letting out a heavy sigh.

“I – I know about you and Spike, Buffy,” Willow admitted softly, placing a gentle hand on Buffy’s shoulder.

The Slayer looked up in alarm.

“And I think it’s fine,” Willow hurried to assure her. “But the thing is…if he doesn’t have a chip anymore…there’s no controlling what he might do…you could end up…having to…” She stopped there; Buffy knew exactly where she was going.

Buffy looked at her for a moment, confusion and indecision in her eyes. She put her head in her hands again, thinking. And suddenly, all she could think about was that last afternoon she had spent with Spike, before Cordova had taken her captive.

His promise, his devotion to her had meant so much, as he had stood there and asked her simply to serve as a conscience for a creature who supposedly had none, yet still had a desire to be “good”, if only to please her, to deserve her. She had known in that moment that it was a responsibility that she desired to take on, that he was capable of doing the right thing, with the proper guidance and motivation.

She knew now what she had to do.

She looked up at Willow with a firm decision in her eyes. “Shutting down the chips completely…will it hurt him?” she asked.

Willow shook her head.

“Do it,” Buffy said immediately. “Shut them down, Will.”

Willow looked back at her with a serious, uncertain expression. “You’re sure,” she asked. She had known in her heart that this was the choice Buffy would make, and felt that if it had been her decision, she would have done the same. But she did not want Buffy to do something now, acting on emotions, that she would regret later.

Buffy nodded. “Completely.” She looked away across the table, and at last the corners of her mouth turned up in the ghost of a smile. “He doesn’t need a chip,” she informed her friend. “He’s got me.”


Spike had been awake again for several hours now, and Cordova had wasted no time in getting back to their “conversation”. This time, however, she had been careful, inflicting just as much pain as she possibly could without driving her prisoner to unconsciousness.

She had been interrogating him for hours. She had started off by firing the chip again, and then went on to try several of the little “toys” on the table at his bedside, eventually returning to the chip again. His body was a mess of various cuts, bruises, and odd burns from the incredibly brutal amount of electricity she had sent coursing through him, but still he would not tell her anything.

“Where did they take her?” she demanded yet again, leaning over the shaking, agonized creature, bound helplessly to the table in front of her.

He swallowed hard, his body tensing further in anticipation of punishment, but still not uttering a sound.

“You know,” she said softly. “I think you’ve gotten too used to the shocks. They don’t seem to be having much of an effect anymore. Maybe…a little break?” she suggested mildly, as if they were simply having a casual conversation.

She walked to the chair placed near the foot of his bed, over which she had hung his coat when she had brought him to this room. He had received the same treatment as Buffy, and had not been allowed the slightest remnant of dignity or protection, being stripped completely before he was bound to the table.

He watched with growing apprehension as she reached absently into the pocket of his coat, and took out his cigarettes and lighter. “Hmm,” she observed with pleasant surprise in her voice. “My brand.” She flashed him a wicked smile that sent a chill of fear down his spine, before lighting up one of his cigarettes.

She took a long, slow drag as she walked slowly back to his side, flicking some ashes onto the floor as she reached him.

“*I* feel better,” she smiled coolly, leaning down close to him. “Shall we try again?”

He looked away, sure that this time his fear would show in his eyes. She was right. He had begun to prepare himself for the shocks before they hit. Something – anything – different would probably be much more “effective” at this point.

And what he was certain by now that she had in mind was extremely painful, moreso to him than it would have been to a human. Fire was one of the few weaknesses his kind was cursed with, and he fought with the very natural fear that threatened to overtake him.

Her smile hardened as she suddenly reached out one hand to fist in his damp, disheveled blonde curls. With the chip’s prevention of even the slightest resistance, he could not move his head at all, as her other hand brought the cigarette it held within inches of his face.

He was breathing hard by now, choking back his own rising panic, as she asked softly, “One more time, Hostile. Where is she?”

He would gladly suffer death before he would ever betray Buffy; he bit down on the inside of his lip, steeling himself for the pain, determining that no matter what she did, he *would not* tell her.

The general shook her head in mild amazement, laughing softly at the strength of his will. “You’re far too stubborn for your own good, Hostile,” she smirked, as she pressed the burning tip of the cigarette to his cheek, her smile widening when he jerked in pain and let out a little cry, quite against his own will.

She held the thing there for several seconds, leaving it against his skin, dragging it slowly downward toward his mouth as she asked again, “Where, Hostile?”

He shook his head slightly, as much as he could, his eyes tightly closed, his mouth set in determination in spite of the pain. It didn’t matter what she did; she could hold the bloody thing to his flesh until he ignited and burned to death. He would not betray the woman he loved.


Willow gasped and let out a pained little cry, holding her head as she doubled over in agony.

“Will! Willow stop!” Buffy urgently called, through what sounded to Willow like a dense fog. Gripping her shoulders, Buffy shook her gently, insisting, “Come on, Will, come back!”

With an intense mental effort and force of her will, Willow wrenched herself out of the trance-like state she had gone into moments before. She had been attempting to use the mental connection she had made earlier to contact Spike, to tell him about their plan.

Her wide, panicked eyes met Buffy’s and she gasped, “Oh, God, Buffy! We have to get him out of there, *now*!”

“He’s in a lot of pain, isn’t he?” Buffy realized, her voice low with fear and rage. “She’s hurting him.”

Willow nodded. “I felt it. I felt it just like it was me and not him. Oh, God, Buffy…we’ve got to just go ahead and do it.”

“He has to know we’re doing it, or it might not do him any good,” Buffy pointed out.

“I – I can try again in a little while,” Willow reluctantly nodded. “I mean – that was – that was really intense, Buffy. It was awful. But the chips are going down, whether he knows it or not. Now.”