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Ring of Fire by TalesofSpike
 
Chapter 1:01
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.01
Friday, May 10th, 2002

Spike lay on one side next to her on the floor of the narrow hallway with his head propped up on one hand, while the other stroked the planes of Buffy's face, drawing her back into the real world. They both still wore the long black leather coats in which they had left the Bronze, but their other clothes were in disarray. He smiled softly down at her dazed expression and watched her eyelids flicker open. "I guess you changed your mind about 'Wind Beneath My Wings', then."

Buffy smiled back at him. "I hadn't, until now."

"Are you okay, love?" Spike asked.

"If I said that I can't remember ever feeling better, would you get all big-headed?" Buffy teased.

"Pet, I've been struttin' around like the cock o' the walk since you agreed to go on a date. It's a bit late to go worryin' about me gettin' a big head."

"I guess I walked into that one," Buffy conceded. "Any reason I shouldn't be okay?"

"Well, something was botherin' you earlier, and then of course, there are all those side-effects that Rupert is lookin' for. So if you sprout fangs, I would like to be the first to know."

"Right, earlier... " Giving him a wry smile, she adjusted her top so that it was back in a position that actually covered her breasts, and smoothed down her wraparound skirt as she spoke.

"Yeah, love. You said you would tell me what was causing all the frowns when we got back here." Taking his cue from Buffy, Spike pulled up his jeans and refastened everything. He stood up easily, and extended a hand to Buffy. She took it and let him help her up, even though they both knew she could have flipped into an upright position quicker, if that had been what she had wanted.

"And I also mentioned opening the champagne."

Spike shrugged off his duster and waited to take Buffy's. "I reckon we can manage that. Why don't you go get comfy, and I'll put these away and sort out the wine?"

Buffy wandered through into the flat's main room. She debated whether it was best to get comfy there, or whether she should make her way to the bedroom. In the end, she opted for the sofa. It wasn't as if it made too much difference, she rationalised. They had never exactly limited themselves to the bedroom, and if they were going to get distracted, it wouldn't matter where they were. If the previous times Spike had tasted her blood were anything to go by, then they were going to be in for a busy night later. Spike was probably half-killing himself, trying to be restrained about it for long enough for them to have a conversation.

Buffy couldn't help but smile when she noticed that Spike's version of serving champagne appeared to involve a bowl of strawberries. "Hedonist," she accused.

Spike just smirked back. "Never did see the point in half measures."

Buffy was brought quickly back to the topic she wanted to discuss. "No, I guess you never did." She waited as Spike settled in beside her and dropped a strawberry into each glass before pouring the wine.

"What's on your mind, pet?"

"Rosa... Lily... Clem, Marie, me, Angel, the Initiative, us ." Buffy's voice softened, and the look she gave Spike could almost qualify as shy. "Look, I'm probably not going to make a whole lot of sense; I don't exactly have everything sorted out in my head, and it's all vaguely connected, but not."

"I used to manage to make sense out of what Dru had to say. I think I'll cope." Spike tucked one leg under so that he could sit facing her and loosely took the fingers of the hand she wasn't using to hold her glass.

"Clem's brother was killed by the Initiative, wasn't he?" Buffy asked.

"Not entirely sure, pet, but I get that general impression. Yeah."

"That could have been me. I could have done that. If Maggie hadn't been trying to kill me. "Class 3", "not normally aggressive", "sometimes turn out to be racoons". That's Clem. I could have put Clem in one of those boxes and I would have thought I did a good day's work. And I still don't know I didn't kill him when we were trying to break out of there."

"You want to look at it like that, then I can't exactly vouch for my innocence either, pet."

"You're a vampire. Innocent doesn't really go with the territory. Shit. There I go again. Categorising people. Look all I know is being around Lily made me take a good look at myself, and I didn't like what I saw. I've been doing this for too long Spike. I've spent a third of my life fighting so-called monsters, and I think unless you can help pull me back, I'm not too far from becoming one."

"Pet, it's not like I don't want to help you, but it seems like you're forgetting who or rather what you're talking to."

"No, no I'm not. I know exactly who I'm talking to. Remember, back when you got the 'bot, I went on this slayer quest. I thought I was becoming hardened. That, well, I'd end up sort of where I was when I came back. In my vision I was told that the only way I'd lose the ability to love was if I refused it. I've been refusing it for years. I need you to help me open up. Ever since Angel, I've hidden away, built walls. I need you to help me tear them down. No more half measures, okay?"

Spike smiled back at her. "Pet, don't you get it? I'm not saying we're going to be living in each others heads or anything, but if things work the way I think, unless you make a conscious effort to hide stuff, things are bound to be more open between us."

"But I don't feel any different."

"I think maybe that's because mostly we're feeling the same things. After what happened before, I think that's only natural, but when I reminded you that you wanted to talk, it was like this little niggle. I knew you were worried about something. Just like if I think about it, I can tell that now you're mostly relieved and just a little bit worried... Okay, more worried. What's wrong, pet?"

"I can't feel you. Why can you feel me, but I can't feel you?"

"Love, you're confused as hell. You're not going to be able to work out what's you and what's me until you're a bit more sorted out, and there's no guarantee that we'll both be affected the same way. Give it some time. Okay?"

"Hey, I got it. You were all concerned there and then happy and relieved when I got it and back to the lust, which was kind of all mixed in with mine before."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing I didn't already get just from looking in your eyes." Buffy leant forward to brush her lips against his, letting her feelings for him come to the fore as she did so. Spike found himself wondering if he really could drown in her, as the gentle caress seemed to hit with the emotional force of a tidal wave.

His eyes searched her face as they finally drew apart. "Buffy, if we ever lose this, if things somehow go wrong and you leave me, promise you'll stake me first."

"Shh. This isn't going to go wrong. You promised me forever, and I'm going to hold you to it... but if I ever do leave you, if that's what you want, then I will." Mentally, Buffy filed away the promise as one more reason she was going to make what they had between them work.

"Thank you," Spike replied.

"You know I'm only saying that because I'm never intending for it to happen," Buffy told him.

"I know, but I know that now I've got your word on it, you'll stick to it, pet." Spike's eyes showed the same melancholy that Buffy could feel through their bond.

"Not gonna happen, Blue Eyes." Buffy raised her glass to his. "To us, for life... or whatever you call it in your case."

"Life suits me just fine, baby."

 





Saturday, May 11th, 2002

Spike woke first, for once the desires propagated by Buffy's proximity taking second place to the vague memory he retained of his dreams the night before. There was no cohesion to the dream, no hidden issue needing to be resolved, no real memory of the dreams events, just a cherished brush with the comforting presence that had been and would always be Joyce.

Buffy lay spooned against him, and he took care to move only his eyes toward the alarm clock until it confirmed it was time to wake her.

He placed feather soft kisses on her bare shoulders and neck until she stirred against him. Even before she was fully awake, she shifted closer to him, her leg hooking over his so that his dick lay between her thighs rather than against her butt. Spike threw another glance at the clock and decided breakfast would have to be courtesy of the drive through window at Micky D's. He tried a couple of slow thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against her moist folds until she leant forward and reached between her legs to guide him home. They moved against each other with infinite slowness, their overused bodies protesting at being joined once again, but at the same time, unable to resist the magnetic pull of mingled desire and love. It took time for this slow fire to build, each savouring anew the empathic connection between them. The more Spike was aware of Buffy's feelings for him, the more his own emotions radiated out to her, so that the bond seemed to amplify their feelings until their physical coupling seemed more a catalyst than an end in itself.

Still joined, they rolled so that Spike lay on his back with Buffy straddling him. He watched a bead of perspiration as it trickled down between her shoulder blades, following its path down to the smooth curves of her ass as they rode up and down.

Sitting up, he let one hand rove her body bestowing gentle caresses whilst his other brushed sticky strands of hair from her face and neck, laying bare the mark that made her his. Buffy trembled as his fingers brushed against the mark, and she remained in place when her hips ground against his. She started to use her inner muscles to work him, and reaching behind, she drew his head forward so that his lips covered the teeth marks on her throat. She didn't need to tell him. He could feel the upsurge in her desire, and he bit down, his jaws open wide enough to let his tongue probe the marks left by his fangs. His human teeth didn't break the skin, nor did his tongue tear the scar tissue that had only lately healed, but it was enough. Buffy came with a feral scream that was only just recognisable as his name, and he let himself be drawn with her.

As her tremors stilled he drew her back against his chest, holding her to him as he reclined into the mass of pillows that had somehow found their way onto the floor, along with the two of them and the duvet.

"Mornin', love." Spike infused the greeting with a wry humour that made it apparent he was well aware of its inadequacy.

"Right back at ya... love." Buffy shifted and then rolled over on top of him so that she looked down into his face. "Is it just me, or did we manage to make your bits all sore too?"

Spike grimaced slightly. "There's some light chafing. Nothin' that won't put itself to rights by tonight, and nothin' I wouldn't do all over again."

"Y' know this time when Dawn says I look all sore and limpy, I'm putting the blame firmly where it belongs."

"And where would that be, pet?"

"On you... and those sexy blue eyes... and those arms that feel so right when they're wrapped round me... on that dick of yours that fits so tight, it feels like I'm going to burst..."

"Somehow, I don't see your discussions with the littlest Summers being quite that frank and open, but feel free to tell Harris if he asks. He does like that "Best Friend" title. I say it's time he earned it." Spike craned his neck to kiss her good morning.

"I love you, you know." Somehow the words just tripped out of his mouth of their own accord.

"I know. After last night, believe me. I know, and the feeling's mutual, Blue Eyes."

"That's good." Buffy looked down at his mischievous grin, wondering what exactly was coming next. "So you won't kill me when I tell you we're meant to pick the witches up in twenty minutes for your little weekend shopping trip in LA..."

 




 

Spike waited till Buffy went upstairs to pack some things before he beckoned Willow outside.

"I've got a favour t' ask ya, pet... Think you can check up a bit on the computer, see what you can come up with on Dawn's lad? Check on his dad? See what happened to this teacher he replaced? I know it'll probably be a while before you get a chance, but I thought it was best to catch you when the young 'un wasn't around, 'n' I figured no point worryin' Buffy unless it turns out there's something to worry about."

Willow wandered toward the trunk of the car with her backpack, and Spike ambled alongside shrouded within the hooded sweatshirt once more. "Kind of there ahead of you. It all just seems to fit too nice. Alternative enough to be a proto-Spike, with a comic book T-shirt that got him and Xander off to a flying start. A dad that also has the perfect excuse to keep an eye on Dawnie through the day and the pair of them all-new in town.

Checking will be done, don't worry. I can already tell you the teacher he replaced died by neck rupture. Buffy had to swing by the morgue a few weeks back, just to play safe. I think they had substitutes in for a while until they took on someone permanent."

"Thanks, pet. At least that's something. Even if it only means they waited till a teacher got themselves made into somebody's dinner before they filled the gap."

Willow looked across at the vampire as he opened up the trunk. "You know we can't prove he's innocent. Don't you?"

"I know. If everything seems clean, then it might just mean they've got a really good cover. But if we don't try..."

 




 

Spike didn't manage to stay as far clear of the shopping as he would have liked this time. Instead, he was despatched to a nearby coffee bar only to have Dawn fetch him once any danger of him seeing "the dress" had passed. He was forced to sit with Buffy and Tara while the other half of the party tried on a multitude of dresses, only for Buffy to make them go back and try on the first one again.

Spike was having a hard time trying to figure out why Buffy wanted him there, when he could just as easily have waited in the car. It wasn't like she needed his advice, or even as if she'd take it if he offered. She seemed to be managing to avoid turning them into meringues, or picking a colour that clashed with Red's hair, all on her own, so why...

A small hand tucked itself in at his elbow and a blonde-streaked head came to rest on his shoulder, as her other hand moved to hide a yawn. Spike looked down and placed a gentle kiss on her hair content that he knew exactly why he was where he was.

 




 

Spike had a bad feeling about the night to come. Buffy had made a phone call to her father's LA number, and by some miracle Hank had deigned to pick up the phone. Apparently he was back at the home office for a couple of weeks, for training on their new software package. So now Buffy, Dawn and he were supposed to go and have dinner with him and his bit on the side.

Spike had vaguely been prepared to meet the guy on the day of the wedding, when he'd figured there would be too many people around for either one of them to say enough to start trouble. Instead, Hank had invited them to dinner at his country club, and Buffy had been forced to refuse because she knew not one of the three of them owned the right clothes, let alone had them with them.

Buffy had proposed that they might go to a small, family restaurant that they'd frequented semi-regularly when they still lived together as a family. The kind of place that didn't mind children, or people wearing jeans. Hank had agreed but managed to sound put out at having to change his reservations, so that he had Buffy feeling guilty before they even met up.

Spike was damned if he was going to feel guilty. Buffy had it in her head that they had to be nice to the wanker. Spike, however, was more than ready to tell the old tosser exactly what he thought of his so-called parenting and give him what for, for not stepping into the breach when Joyce fell ill to make sure Buffy and Dawn were provided for at least until they finished college.

Dawn was aligning herself with Spike, though she'd promised she wouldn't say anything without provocation. She hadn't told Buffy that by her estimation, she had over a year of provocation watching Buffy's academic career vanish and seeing her work herself into exhaustion. Still, she might hold out for a bit; at least until Hank decided to call Spike "boy" or some other patronising term. Heck, she wouldn't just wait. She would have paid for a ticket to see that one.
 
Chapter 1:02
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.02
Saturday, May 11th, 2002

"Spike, please. I need you to promise you'll behave." Buffy looked in the mirror as she put her make-up on, her gaze occasionally flicking to where Spike's weight left a dent in the bed clothes. It seemed that his lack of reflection was one thing she wasn't ever going to get used to. Spike, on the other hand, was more than happy to have both a back and front view of Buffy in her underwear.

"Pet, you know if I promise you anything, it's a matter of honour as far as I'm concerned for me to keep my word."

"I know. Th-"

"Then don't expect me to make a promise, that I've got bugger all chance of keeping," Spike interrupted, coming to perch on the corner of the dresser as he put on one of several new shirts Buffy had insisted on buying.

"But he might contest custody of Dawn."

Spike's tone softened as resignation seeped into it. "Buffy, the git won't contest custody. He is a kid. He doesn't want to look after one."

"But if he thinks you're violent, he could have her put into State care or something."

"He wouldn't get anywhere. We can afford better lawyers."

"It'd be a lot cheaper if you could just get along with him."

"Don't you know that I'm good friends with an assistant D.A.? Someone that graduated top in her year at law school, and turned down lots of well-paid offers to work in LA or New York so she could work as a public defender."

"And who would. Let me guess. Marie. Beautiful wasn't enough. She had to be brilliant and altruistic too."

"Brilliant enough that she's got restraining orders on your ex and as many of his mates as she could get identified, keepin' 'em away from her, Rosa and the flats."

"Wouldn't they just use someone else?"

"The theory is that if anything happens, they've created enough of a paper trail to make the soldier boys think twice. Mostly, it makes them look for easier targets."

"Like you."

"That depends on how far we take the legal identity stuff," Spike responded. "There's nothing stoppin' us from doin' the same as Marie, at least as soon as we know they know that we know."

"What? You mean you'd take out a restraining order against Riley?"

"Too right, I would, pet. And if you've any sense, you'd take one out to keep him away from Bit, too, if he comes back. Your ex hasn't been the kid from the farm in Smallville for a long time. He's been chipped and trained, fed steroids and all sorts of crap and, like as not, he's had a bit of brainwashing on the side. Not to mention the fact it's a damn sight easier for him to blame you or me or his brothel of vamp whores, than it is for him to take responsibility for things between the pair of you going t' hell.

He was never as squeaky clean as he wanted you t' think, pet. He used to have a stake made out of plastic. Looked like wood, 'cept it wasn't." Spike paused, waiting for Buffy to realise what that meant.

"B-but that doesn't make any sense."

"Not to you, maybe. But then you don't play with the demons you hunt. You kill them, or you don't. Captain Credible prefers to take his amusement where he can, and if he decides that Bit doesn't fall into the human category, you don't want him anywhere near her."

"B-but. He wouldn't. It's Dawn. He..."

Spike shifted along the dresser until he faced her, taking her shoulders in his hands. "Pet, that stake isn't something you buy in a hardware store. You don't get a chunk of plastic and whittle it down. You have to make a mould and mix the resin or heat it or whatever and then cast it and once you've done that to finish off, you paint it up. It had to be specially made, and he turned up with it the day after I took you to that place. That means he already had it. I severely doubt I was the first vamp he used it on.

Torture's a funny thing, love. It's never really been my scene, but some people develop a taste for it. Starts off as a necessary evil and ends up just for entertainment. I'll wager he does it all with a clean conscience because "demons are evil". Just don't under estimate what he's capable of."

"It just. I can't believe he would do something like that." Buffy defended her ex, refusing to accept she could have been so wrong about him.

"Fine, pet." Spike's tone became clipped and harsh and he pushed away from the dresser, leaving Buffy staring at her own reflection again. "Don't believe me, but if something happens to me, you get word to Marie and get her to get the documents issued just the same."

"Spike..." Buffy turned, catching at his sleeve with her hand, so that he turned back toward her. "I didn't mean that I didn't believe you, just that it's kinda hard to accept." She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her scantily clad body against his bare chest.

It had taken them a while, but eventually they had realised that their ability to sense the other's emotions only worked when they were in physical contact. It could be as simple as touching hands, but without physical contact, that element of their connection was lost. Maybe in time things would change, but for now, Spike trying to walk away from her was his way of shutting her out, and her efforts weren't meant as a physical distraction, just a way to re-establish their emotional link.

Buffy concentrated on trying to project her own feelings whilst trying not to recoil away from the pain and anger emanating from her fiancé. "Spike, get over it. Okay? I'm with you now. You are the one that I plan on being with for the rest of our lives. You are the one that's meeting my father tonight."

"Why the hell should I, when for all you've just said, you still don't bloody believe what I say?" Spike pulled her arms from around his neck and stepped away from her, starting to button up the front of his shirt.

"Spike. Don't shut me out. We're not playing here. This is for keeps."

"Then maybe it's about time you learned to soddin' trust me. Why the hell do you think I would bloody lie to you? It's not as if you wouldn't know straight off."

"Spike-"

"Look, pet. Just leave it. Alright. " Spike barked out the terse command. "This isn't something we can talk our way round. Nothing is going to fix it except time. Who knows maybe, at some point before our Silver Wedding, you might manage to bring yourself to have a little bit of faith in me." Picking up his cigarettes and lighter from the top of the bedside unit, he stormed through the front door.

Buffy grabbed the dress she'd been planning on wearing and pulled it on as quickly as she could but, of course, her haste made her fumble with the fastenings so that it actually took her twice as long as normal to get dressed. She half hopped, half walked to the door putting on her shoes as she went. Yanking open the door, she looked right and left, surprised to find the vampire nowhere in sight. She peered as best she could through the tiny cracks in the paint that covered the DeSoto's windshield, but was unable to discern the telltale orange glow of his cigarette.

The sun hadn't quite set yet, but the shadows the buildings cast had lengthened significantly, enough that she could imagine the antsy vamp playing dodge the sunbeam. This wouldn't be so much of a problem if there wasn't a taxi booked to pick up the three of them in twenty minutes time.

Buffy shuffled uncertainly and decided to check Dawn's room, using the pretext of seeing if the younger girl was ready. Spike had arranged it so that their room was separated from the two rooms the others occupied by most of the block, ever mindful of Dawn's all too receptive ears. The scent of cigarette smoke reached her just as she was about to knock on Dawn's door. She made her way round to the eastern end of the room-block instead.

"I'm sorry, you know." Buffy alternated between watching her feet and looking through her lashes at the tense vampire.

"Yeah?" he asked keeping his tone deliberately neutral.

"Yeah. If it was as simple as me being able to make a decision, then I would decide here and now to trust you. But you're right. It isn't. That doesn't mean I don't want to trust you, or that it hurts any less to know I've hurt you." She raised her hand to cup his cheek. "I love you. I'm sorry I hurt you. I do believe you, and even though I still find all this difficult to take in, it isn't because-" She was cut off when Spike laid a gentle finger on her lips.

"That's all I can ask, for now," Spike replied, even if it was far from being all he wanted.

 




 

"So what do you do for a living then, William?" Hank seemed determined to make a belated attempt to safeguard Buffy's welfare.

"I don't. I have some investments, which provide sufficient income for our needs." Spike responded.

"So you don't have a job? Nothing to fall back on if these investments were to fall through?"

"I've occasionally turned my hand to writing in the past. I still garner a royalty cheque now and again. I dare say, if I devoted more time to it I could make a living. Do you have some sort of point?

Maybe if you think I'm such a poor provider, I should ask you how you've done such a bang up job of providing for the girls since Joyce died? You must have quite the earning power to keep the little woman in Versace and pay the subscriptions on that country club you wanted to meet at and all this while you paid off Joyce's hospital bills that were left when the insurance company refused to settle and putting Buffy through college all at the same time. You must be quite the guy.

But wait you didn't look after them, did you? You didn't send them a red cent over and above what you were legally obliged to. Buffy was forced to quit school and work herself half to death in some shitty burger barn while you were off swanning round Europe and buying your secretary second rate diamond bracelets that still cost enough to pay a terms tuition." Spike pushed his chair away from the table. "I'm going outside for a minute."

As Spike breezed out of the restaurant, cigarettes and lighter in hand, Hank nervously cleared his throat.

"He seems a little spirited..." he finally commented.

"Yeah. Funny how he gets like that about the people he cares about." It was Dawn who managed the sarcastic drawl, but she only just beat Buffy to it.

"Well, you know if I'd realised how bad things were for you girls, I would have sent some money, but I'd always understood from your mom that she had everything in hand. I thought you were just being reckless.

I remember how you used to spend all of your allowance in the first week of the month on some jacket or something, and then you would borrow money from Joyce for the next three weeks. I figured I was just teaching you financial responsibility."

"Mom did have everything in hand. We would have done just fine if the insurance company had covered the medical bills. Don't you dare blame mom because you couldn't even make the time to come to the phone and call us."

"Buffy. Look, I know there have been mistakes, but I want to make it up to you. Marlene and I have discussed it, and we'd like to pay for your wedding. It's the least we could do."

Marlene picked this moment to join in. "We can hold it at the club. They always do lovely weddings there. If you give me a list of the groom's family and anyone from Sunnydale that you want to ask, then I can do all the invitations. It's as easy as if I were to give you all the names and addresses."

"Excuse me. I already have Aunt Arlene's address. It was in mom's address book." Dawn was perhaps the only person left at the table capable of recognising the edge in Buffy's voice.

"Well, of course you do, dear, and if you want to ask her, then that's just fine. I'm sure she'll be very welcome, but your father has certain business obligations he has to meet. There are client's who would be offended if something as big as this were to happen without them being invited."

"You can hold it right there, evil step-mom. This is my wedding, and if I want some Hitler Nazi telling me how to organise it, then I'll hire a wedding planner. If you want to have some sort of shindig to entertain Hank's clients, then I'm sure there are plenty of out of work actors and actresses in LA who'd love to play the bride and groom, but I'm pretty certain I can speak for Spike when I say we'll make our own guest list, hire our own hall in Sunnydale and pay for it ourselves.

And as for you," she turned to her father. "If you really want to make amends, then how about doing something with Dawn's college fund, huh? Or can't you get any PR out of that?" Buffy rose from her seat, picking up Spike's duster from the back of the chair next to hers as well as her own. "We'll see you at the wedding, if you can make time, and it isn't too far out of your way, but you should know that I've already asked someone else to give me away.

Goodbye, Hank."

Buffy turned to face Dawn, who was rising from her seat. "If you wanna stay..."

"It's fine , Buffy." Dawn walked past her father's seat on her way out, brushing a kiss against his cheek. "Bye, Dad," she whispered, an admission that even if he was in the wrong, unlike Buffy, she wasn't quite ready yet to cut all ties.

When she neared the cash-register at the front of the restaurant, Buffy pulled some bills from the pocket of Spike's duster. She pointed to the table where their main courses were just being brought out. "I'm afraid we won't be staying," she told the cashier as she passed over enough to pay for everything the five of them had ordered and a generous tip.

"Would you like to have your meals wrapped to take with you?" the slightly flustered man asked.

"Nah," answered Buffy as she made for the door. "It'd ruin the dramatic exit."

 
Chapter 1:03
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.03
Saturday, May 11th, 2002


"Hey," Buffy held out Spike's duster toward him. "We decided to skip dinner and go straight to the part where I tell dad to screw his country club and walk out."

Spike pulled his coat from Buffy's grasp, donning it as he made his brusque reply. "Really, pet. I'm pleased for you?" His tone was cruel, almost sarcastic. He stuck his index finger and pinkie into his mouth and let forth a piercing whistle that brought an empty taxi slaloming across lanes to pull in next to them in seconds.

"Why don't you take your brat kid sister and bugger off then?" Spike pulled open the rear door of the cab.

"Sp-" Buffy started to protest even as Dawn climbed into the back seat of the cab.

"Just for once, do what you're fucking told without arguing, you stupid bitch." Spike manhandled Buffy into the back of the cab, a feat he managed largely due to her shocked lack of resistance. In a softer tone he added, "Get clear of here before you give him any directions. Don't go back to where we left the car or anywhere else I know about. Tell the others to move but don't let any of them know where you are and don't try to contact me before sunup. Got that?"

"Spike, wha-"

"Get out of here, Slayer!" Spike slammed the cab door even as Buffy tried to speak to him, tapping on the roof to send it onward. Stepping back onto the pavement, he pulled a fresh cigarette from his pack and lit it.

He fixed his gaze on a dark alley on the far side of six lanes of traffic, his eyes able to see something in the shadows that wasn't visible to the human eye. He gave a last glance at the taxicab, watching its taillights disappear around a corner before he dodged the heavy traffic.

His head tilted slightly to one side, and his lips formed a lopsided smile designed to test the willpower of any female. "Long time, no see, princess," he drawled as he swaggered into the embrace of the woman who was waiting.

 




 

"What's going on, Buffy?" Dawn looked to her sister for clarification.

"I don't know, Dawnie. But I intend to find out." Buffy shifted so that she could watch the blond vamp through the cab's rear window. "Circle the block," she ordered the driver. She searched the face of the man she'd woken up beside that morning, but all she could see were the granite-hard planes of the monster she'd met in an alley next to the Bronze, years before. The cab turned off to the right, and she lost even that distant vision.

"Don't you think you should maybe do like he says and go some place that's else?"

"I don't know. Probably. But one circuit isn't going to tip anyone off, and it might let us know what we're up against." Buffy twisted back into a forward facing position. She couldn't work out what made him act the way he had. All she could try to do was the very thing he'd accused her of being incapable of, and trust him. She was still trying to make some sense of his actions when the car pulled back onto the section of road where they had left him. She eagerly scanned the pavement to the right of the road, but it was Dawn's anguished exclamation that drew her attention to where he stood in Dru's pale arms. The diminutive vampiress leant forward, her tongue tracing a trail over one hollowed cheek as Buffy watched.

"Buffy?"

The blonde leant forward to give instructions to the driver. "Straight ahead." Her voice held a hint of defeatism.

"You're just going to let him get away with that?" Dawn's voice was incredulous. "You're going to let him talk to you like that and just walk out on you for his skanky ex?"

"Dawn. Shut up. Alright. I can't think with you..." Buffy stopped short of accusing her sister of whining. She pulled her purse out of her coat pocket, double-checking that she had all her bankcards with her.

She leaned forward again. "Know any decent places to stay the night round here?"

"How much are you wanting to pay?"

"Doesn't have to be anywhere fancy, as long as it's clean." She glanced over to where Dawn had sunk into a sulky slump in her corner of the back seat. "And I suppose it'd be best if it had cable," she added.

 




 

The cab dropped them off at a motel a few miles from where she'd left Spike and Dru. Buffy went through the motions of registering on auto-pilot. For the first time in years, her private life had been back on track, and now this.

First, she tried calling Willow and Tara's room at the motel. It rang on and on, either unheard or ignored, until she was forced to give up.

At the next number she tried, well-cultured English tones repeated the digits she'd just dialled and asked her to leave a message after the tone.

"Wesley, if you're there, please pick up. It's Buffy."

She waited several seconds before she spoke again. "Drusilla's in LA. I don't know-"

"Buffy? What's happened? Are you okay?"

"Wes? I'm fine. Well, no I'm not. Spike's with her."

"I see." The funny thing was that she believed that, unlike Dawn, he did. "Why don't you tell me what happened, from the beginning?"

Dawn listened in as Buffy explained about their shopping trip and aborted meal, making her opinion known by way of snorts and eye rolls, until Buffy picked up the phone and locked herself in the room's modest bathroom.

Once he was sure that he had all the relevant information, Wesley asked the big question. "So, Buffy, how exactly do you think I can best be of use?"

"I don't know. Someone's providing the brains for the operation, and LA isn't my town. I don't know who to lean on to get information. Maybe you can make some phone calls. Spike said I shouldn't go anywhere he knew. That means your apartment may not be safe, or it could be as safe as you can get. It depends who's running the show and whether they're prepared to burn you out to get what they want, but it has to be your call. You may have a while before they pick up on you."

"We should arrange a rendezvous, in case you can't reach my mobile or any of us have to move, not that I know where you are, now." Mentally, Wes added that he could use *69 if he wanted to find out.

"Okay. Noon. Out front of the planetarium." Buffy named the most open area she could think of off the top of her head. Before she put down the phone, she couldn't stop herself from adding, "Wes, take care. I couldn't tell how many there were, but can we say overkill? And the Cuckoo Queen's no picnic on her own if she stops gibbering long enough to do her mojo. I still owe her for Kendra."

"I'll be careful. One hostage is quite enough." Wes's final words confirmed Buffy's fears.

Buffy put down the phone, taking a deep breath and thinking calming thoughts of the ocean as Giles had taught her long ago, before she tried Willow and Tara's room again. There was still no answer. Okay, good, they weren't at the motel because they were out having fun somewhere. Bad, they weren't at the motel because Dru and her minions had found the car before they even came looking for Spike and had already eaten them, turned them or were holding them prisoner.

Desperation made Buffy wrack her brains. She took the phone back into the main room and pulled a scruffy copy of the Yellow Pages directory from under the small table that separated the room's twin beds. She was three quarters of the way down the list of diners when she found the name she was searching for. She picked up and dialled the numbers, unaware that she had crossed the fingers on her left hand as she did so.

"Tina's Diner. How can I help?"

"Hi. Em. Some friends of mine are staying at the motel across the road. I can't get any answer when I try their room. I wondered if maybe they were getting something to eat? Two girls? Early twenties? Redhead and a sort of mousy blonde?"

The waitress glanced around. "You got a name to hang on those descriptions, honey?"

"Willow... Rosenberg?"

The waitress watched the pair in the corner as she called out. "Phone call for Willow Rosenberg?" The pair looked over at her questioningly, before the redhead made her way to the counter.

"I'm Willow Rosenberg." The waitress handed over the phone.

On the other side of the road, a young vampiress waited in the shadows with several of her brethren, watching the rooms that the cowering desk clerk had identified as being rented out to the group in the old, black DeSoto Huntsman. Little did they know they had been cheated of their quarry, or perhaps saved from their quarry, simply because Tara and Willow had decided to stop off for pie and coffee on their way back from the nearby multiplex.

 




 

"You've been a bad dog," Dru scolded, waving a finger at him,

"But isn't that just how you like me, my sweet thing?" Spike raised an eyebrow and gave her a rakish grin.

"You've been lost. Playing with the white hats, but they shan't keep my precious boy."

"And why's that, poodle?" Spike cajoled.

"I made a present for Grandma, but when I came back, she was gone, and now he sings for me." Spike wondered if he'd ever manage to understand Drusilla's ramblings again.

"So you've got a new boy toy, have you, pet?"

"He barks for me, but he liked Grandma best. He hates Daddy. Once we take off your leash, we can be a family again. All bad dogs together. Me and Spike and Lonesome. We'll make Daddy into a bad dog, too. All four of us. Ruff."

She leant into Spike's body, every inch of her pressed against him as her tongue flicked out to lick his cheek.

A chill ran through Spike, and he didn't know whether Dru was offering him heaven, hell or a little bit of both. "And a few dozen others beside." Spike looked at the mass of vampires, mostly female he noted, who were arrayed around the alley, invisible to the human eye in the dark.

"Lonesome likes children. I'm a great-great-great-Grandmama."

'Great,' thought Spike. 'Trust Dru to end up with a pyramid salesman come would-be neurosurgeon. ' Maybe if he'd known the truth, he would have been even more worried.

 
Chapter 1:04
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.04
Saturday, May 11th, 2002

Buffy had left the most difficult phone call till last. She had no option but to try to enlist Angel's help, but she had no idea whether it would be given freely, or at all. Even in the four days that had passed since she had last seen him, her situation had changed in ways which made it impossible for her to gauge his reaction.

Angel hadn't been exactly happy when she and Spike had shown up in LA with her sporting a fresh set of bite scars. She couldn't say whether the fact that she and Spike were now on a more level footing would make his reaction better or worse. She did know that he wouldn't consider Drusilla's presence in LA of the good. Add to this the fact that she had no idea how things were going with Stephen, and she was swimming in a sea of tension.

Nevertheless, the point came where she simply couldn't put off the call any longer.

She listened as the answer-phone clicked in, debating whether it was safe to leave a message. Some of the people Angel worked with lived in the hotel, which made it a private residence. On the other hand, it was also a place of business like The Magic Box, and they'd never managed to find a way to bar Spike from there, even in the days when she had been at her most disparaging about his "obsession".

She returned the phone to its cradle, resolving to try again at five-minute intervals until she got a reply. Dawn sat on one of the twin beds, flicking through the music channels on cable. Eventually, she settled on a channel that was playing such obnoxiously tuneless metal music, that her choice could only be her way of expressing her disapproval at her sister's actions.

"Dawn, what exactly do you think is going on here?" Buffy asked.

"I think you're letting that bleach-blonde chip-head walk all over you and treat you like crap," Dawn huffed.

Buffy sighed. "Dawn, think about it. Before I would even give Spike the time of day, he offered to kill Dru for me. Do you really think he'd bail on me now?"

"But he..."

"He did everything he could to make sure Dru didn't set her not so little cadre of vamps on us. Spike isn't "with " her. He's her prisoner. She probably thinks it's her turn to torture him till he loves her again. He wasn't trying to be hurtful. He was trying to make it look like we weren't important enough to him to be of any use to her."

"Yeah, cause we all know that vamps like to lick their torture victims."

"Dawn. Just grow up. Spike is in danger, whether you believe it or not.

I don't know anything about the demon side of LA.

I'm going to have to ask my ex for help to go after his ex to save his ex's ex.

Right now I need your support, not the musical stylings of Slipknot at full volume. Okay?" Buffy itemised the facts as clearly as if she'd numbered them one to four.

"You want me to cheer him on while he cheats on you with the woman he shared a centennial with, then?"

"Damn right I do, since the first thing he was worrying about was getting your butt out of there. Or hadn't you realised that you're the reason he wouldn't take a chance on fighting his way out?"

"I just thought..." Dawn slumped back against the pillows.

"There's your problem. You want to work out why Spike's doing something, you've got to forget what you think and go with what you feel. And I know that we love each other too much to let Elvira be more than a temporary inconvenience. I trust him. Whatever things with Morticia might have looked like, he was just buying time or trying to see what he could find out, but it won't last. He's a- He couldn't lie if his life depended on it." A little, malicious voice in her head couldn't help adding that it just might.

 




 

Buffy was almost ready to pack up and head for the Hyperion in person, to see what was going on, by the time she finally got an answer to her calls.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Hi," answered Buffy. "Can I speak to Jason, please?"

"I think you've got the wrong number, honey, There's no Jason here."

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief as the answer came instantaneously rather than after the hesitation that might have been indicated her callee didn't actually belong there.

"No, it's the right number. I just had to make sure I wasn't talking to a wrong guy. Who am I talking to anyway?"

"Slow up, strudel. Who're you? And why did you think there might be a wrong guy?"

"Well, for a start. I'm no-one's strudel. It's Buffy. And you still haven't told me who you are, but I'm beginning to think horny guy."

"Aren't we all?" the demon drawled. "Tell Lorne your problems, puddin'... Unless, of course, you wanna drive down in person and just sing."

"Sing? You're not related to some bald, red guy? Same taste in clothes? Got a thing for taking child brides into hell?" Buffy asked.

"No, but I think I might have met him once. More of a song and dance type of guy? Sort of a demon's Gene Kelly? But that's not why you called, is it?"

"Okay. How much do you know about Angel's family tree?"

"Not a lot. I think there's some sort of chart somewhere in the files, but other than the two I've met, I can't say that I've taken much of an interest. I'm not that big on the whole family deal."

Buffy let out another sigh, this one born of frustration. "Are you the only one there? Maybe I could speak to Angel or Cordelia? Where are they all."

"I think, em, look, there ain't no easy way of saying this. Cordelia's gone missing. Her car was abandoned in the middle of the highway same night you and delicious headed back to the hellmouth. Groo's just gone. All his stuff's been cleared out of her apartment. Everybody else is out stirring up everything that moves trying to work out where she's gone."

"Then I think maybe I've got some bad news for you. You know how Angel feels about Cordelia? You think Darla could have known about it, when she was in town the time before the time Stephen was born."

"I get a bad feeling about why you're asking this, but I'd say no. When Angel and Darla were doing the horizontal mamba, Cordy and the others weren't even sharing office space with him. I think the whole love-puppy thing came later."

"Well, I suppose that's maybe something to be thankful for. Not that it's any kind of guarantee that the wicked witch of the West End doesn't know anyway... Look. I can't tell you where I am, but you need to let Angel know that Dru's in LA. She's got a serious number of vamps in tow, and she's got Spike."

"Whoa, girl. What d' you mean she's got Spike."

"I mean he shoved me and my sister into a cab and walked into the lion's den, hoping she'd leave us alone if she had him, is what I mean. So far, if Spike's right about this bond thing, he's not dead or seriously injured, but I don't know, I mean vampire to slayer might not work like vampire to vampire, so maybe I wouldn't know, except I think I would. Even without the bond, I think I would, y' know?"

"Sure. Back home they call it kyrumption, muffin. I know. So you made an honest demon out of him, after all?" Lorne asked.

"Yeah, and less than a day later, his ex comes hunting for him somewhere that isn't where he'd normally be. Can't say I'm big on the coincidence theory."

"Me neither. What say I give you Angel cake's cell number, and you can give him a call?"

"Anything's worth a try at this point... Look, if you don't hear anything else before then, I've arranged to meet Wes tomorrow at noon outside the planetarium. I think it might be a good idea to get everybody together to sort out what to do about this.

In the meantime, if you've got any human friends with their own apartment, I suggest you get out and leave messages for anybody else that might head back there to do the same. They might already be watching the hotel though, so try to make sure you're not followed."

"Sure, dumpling. I'll high tail it on out of here as soon as I leave a message for the others. Now have you got a pen and paper ready?"

 




 

Angel used one hand to hold the demon up against the wall of the bar with his feet kicking against thin air. He was in full game face and gave the appearance of being ever so slightly impatient. The remaining patrons of the establishment held onto their drinks and tried to watch what was going on closely enough to be able to get out of the way if trouble came in their direction, whilst trying to give the impression that they weren't paying any attention at all.

"Now we're going to start again," the glowering vamp informed the demon. "And what it's worth is your life, what little might be left of it."

"I swear. I ain't heard nothin', honest." The red-skinned demon blinked green, catlike eyes as he gasped for enough air to make his reply.

"Then how come I've heard from at least two different sources that you're the demon to see."

"I don't know nothin' 'bout no girl, man. All I know is this guy comes lookin' for a way to some other dimension. Looked a lot like you in fact, 'cept for the brow and the eyes."

"Keep talkin'," Angel growled.

"Nothin' to tell. Put him in touch with this old guy I know, well demon, technically."

The tale was interrupted by the ringing of Angel's cell phone. Angel ignored it.

"Ain't you goin' to answer that?"

"And let you make a run for the door? I prefer to save my effort for beatin' the truth out of you rather than waste time on the chase. Don't get me wrong, time was I'd like nothin' better than to give you a head start and let you think you had a chance to get away, But that's when I'm out for fun. In case you hadn't guessed, I'm not in a fun mood, tonight. So why don't you tell me the name and address of this demon you sent this guy to, and maybe I'll let you finish your drink in peace."

"Look, all I know is, you want big magic, then this guy knows the deal. He's got a book shop, down the bottom end of the strip."

"That's it? Don't you think I know all the people who deal in that sort of stuff?" Angel relaxed his arm slightly and then slammed the demon back into the wall so hard that its head left a dent in the plaster.

"N-not this one. He's new. Only came to town a couple of months back. And he can pass for human. If you put me down, I've got his business card in my wallet."

Angel grudgingly let the other demon regain his footing and search through his wallet until he found a bright shiny business card. The proprietor obviously knew his clientele, as the card looked more like a credit card than a conventional business card, thereby explaining its pristine condition in comparison to the other contents of the wallet.

Angel pulled the card from the demon's hand and headed for the exit. As he pulled the door open, he turned to address the still gasping demon. "This turns out to be a dead end, or you try to warn this guy I'm coming, and next time I won't leave you any arms to use while you're waiting for the replacements to grow in." The demon looked down at the severed arm that lay on the floor and treated Angel to an uncomplimentary gesture with the hand attached to one of his remaining three.

Angel waited till he was back in his car to try calling the number from which the missed call had originated.

"Blue Moon Motel,"

"Hi. I'm Angel. I think someone there might have tried to contact me on my cell phone."

"Man, we've got thirty-two rooms here, some of which are rented out by the hour, so if some gal... or guy wants to call out for some entertainment, then we don't see nothin' and we don't hear nothin'. Understand?"

Angel's mouth gaped open as he gradually realised that the clerk assumed he was a male prostitute. "Hey. It's... look, I'm private investigator, not ...not that I couldn't-" The vampire stammered in his embarrassment before beginning again.

"Look. Is there anybody there looks like they might be in trouble or anything?"

"It's a motel , dude. What do you think?" the clerk replied. "We're not exactly catering to the honeymoon crowd."

"Sure. Thanks anyway." Angel debated whether he should head for the bookshop (which he figured would probably be closed up for the night), or try the motel where, if the call came from a stranger, he would be at a dead end.

After a minute or so, he swung the car toward Santa Monica and one last demon bar. The chances were the call was probably a wrong number, and if it wasn't, and it was important they were bound to call back.

As he pulled away, he said his own name out loud several times in varying tones of voice from soft to gruffly masculine, contemplating its sound. "It does not sound like a male prostitute," he muttered, not quite managing to convince himself.

Lonesome and his group of young male vamps, who all looked like they might have been gym-rats in their previous life, let Angel get a couple of blocks head start. Then, they took off after the big black convertible leaping from roof to roof, exalting in the hunt, even if, for now, they only planned to observe. The roar of the traffic covered any noise they made, and if a bum were to swear he'd seen about thirty guys leap the width of the alley where he was sheltering from the wind then no-one would believe him.

 




 

Buffy hung up the phone. She'd left a message on Angel's voicemail. Presumably, he was caught up in some action or other regarding Cordelia's situation. Nevertheless, she was sure he'd take her message seriously, if only because Cordelia's disappearance might be connected to Dru's arrival.

For now, there wasn't much else she could do except maybe call Wes later. Angel and his green guy, had been warned about what was afoot. (God she knew too many Brits) Willow and Tara knew not to go back to their room before the four of them met up in the diner tomorrow morning. After that, it was a case of checking out the rooms in force and meeting up with however many of Angel's crew made it to the planetarium.

Suddenly faced with nothing to do except think about what could be happening to Spike while she sat in her motel room, on her lumpy, single bed, Buffy felt the first sting of oncoming tears reach her eyes. Standing up, she turned her back so that Dawn wouldn't see, and managed to almost disguise the slight waver in her voice as she spoke.

"I'm going to see if this place is too cheap to come with complementary bubble-bath," she informed her sister as she shut herself in the bathroom and let the sound of running water drown out any noise she might make.

 




 

"So, pet, what exactly do you have planned for this evening? Do I get to meet the wonder protégé?" Spike drew deeply on his half-smoked cigarette.

"Naughty boy. You shan't see all Mummy's secret things. Not before you come back to her."

"Aren't I back here with you, now, sugar plum?" the blonde vampire smiled coyly at his former paramour, his right hand brushed against her neck in a gentle caress as his left hand settled at her waist, drawing her close against him.

Dru tutted at him. "You're not my knight any more. The nasty girl holds the end of your lead."

"The slayer doesn't have anything to do with the chip, petal." Spike's speech slowed as he began to realise his former paramour had in fact meant something else.

"You wear your lead on your neck" Dru pulled gently on his shirt collar so that the scar at the join between his neck and shoulder lay exposed. "Mummy must take off your collar and your muzzle before you can come to tea again."

Despite his best efforts, Spike felt his stomach sink. Dru wanted her Spike back, and that didn't just mean getting rid of the chip. That meant breaking the newly formed bond.

Swifter than the human eye could see, Spike stepped round behind Dru. His right hand stayed in place on the left side of her neck as he moved, and he used his left hand to tilt her head on one side. The position left Dru basically defenceless against him. Whilst she might be able to remove some skin by scratching blindly at his hands or face, he could snap her neck in an instant.

"I don't want to hurt you, baby. Just tell all the kiddies to stay-"

Spike's words faltered as five crossbow bolts hit into his body in close succession from assorted rear angles.

Free once more, Dru sighed. "The death card calls your name, my prince. It said it was time for change, but my songbird warned that you would bite the hand that frees you."

 
Chapter 1:05
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.05
Saturday, May 11th, 2002

Buffy lay back, trying to relax in the sparse, lavender-scented bubbles. She couldn't help remembering how, less than a week ago, Spike had carried her upstairs and bathed her. It was quite probably one of the most sensual experiences in her life to date. The problem was, right now, she had no way of knowing if the experience was one they would ever be able to repeat. She knew she wouldn't actually relax until a certain vampire was once more available to massage out all the knots from her tense, aching muscles.

Spike had sort of sneaked into her life. Even before she came back from the grave, he'd been there to listen to her problems and support her through them. He let her fall apart just like a normal girl, and when she donned the armour of the Chosen One, he stepped back and let her take charge once more. He never mentioned her weakness or used it against her. He let her maintain the invincible facade that the Scoobies, in their naiveté, needed to believe in.

Now, she needed him there in his familiar role. This was the first major crisis since her mother's death that she'd faced without his support. She knew if Dawn had been missing instead of him, that he would have made sure that they somehow got half an hour to themselves for her to just let go. He would have ensured that she had a break from the pressure of always having to be the strong one. The fact that she had no-one else who could fulfil that role just compounded her sense of confusion and isolation.

She was up against unknown opponents in an unfamiliar setting, and they had taken the man who had become her emotional rock. Maybe this time she wouldn't get a chance to give vent to the scared girl inside her. Maybe Buffy would have to wait. For now, she was the Slayer. Spike was her mate and a master vampire in his own right. Before this thing was over, Dru and everyone else she recruited were going to learn that they couldn't turn enough vamps to keep the two of them apart.

Buffy decided it was time to see if there was some way they could make this bond work for them. Either it would work or it wouldn't. She scooped up a handful of bubbles from the end of the bath nearest the taps, and picked one that was slightly larger than the rest to act as a focus in lieu of the crystals Giles had trained her to use. As she concentrated on its shifting iridescent colours, she tried to empty her mind of everything else except Spike and their bond.

She gradually built up a sense memory of him, starting with how he smelled... menthol cigarettes, breath mints, cologne, and underneath it all. the musk that was uniquely his. Only when she could close her eyes and make believe he was in the room with her, did she start to think about his touch.

 




 

Dawn shifted awkwardly on the lumpy mattress. She switched off the TV and listened to see if she could hear anything from the bathroom. She couldn't help but feel guilty. Once Buffy had explained her interpretation of events, Dawn knew deep inside that she was right.

Part of what made her feel guilty was the fact she was nearly as pissed at the vampire for playing the martyr as she had been when she'd thought he was saying those things for real. She should have known better. She'd seen the look on his face just before Doc pushed him from that tower.

She had felt betrayed. Spike, the one adult she could rely on not to patronise her, or sugar-coat things, had talked about her as if she weren't even there. He'd treated her sister as if she were some whore instead of his fiancée, and then he'd let that woman fling herself all over him. Betrayed had turned to hurt, and hurt had turned to pissed. Pissed at Spike had turned into pissed at Buffy for letting him act like that, and now she'd earned the title that she'd been so upset about the vamp using in the first place.

She tried to think what she could do to help. Buffy was right. If they hadn't had to look out for her, he wouldn't have had to go with Dru, or they would at least have fought. Dawn tried to work out whether it would have been better if the pair had been taken prisoner together, rather than Buffy being free but separated from him.

It didn't occur to the younger girl that Drusilla had no reason to take her sister prisoner. The vampiress would be far safer in a world where the only slayer was serving twenty-five to life for murder.

It never occurred to her that Spike had made his decision in order to protect Buffy as well as her. She didn't realise that, while he had every confidence in the slayer's fighting ability, he wasn't prepared to take a chance on whether she might be immune to Drusilla's mind tricks. Dracula hadn't had a problem getting to her, and Dru had killed the last slayer she had opposed without even a proper fight.

So, in Dawn's mind she was the sole reason Spike was in his current position, and she'd been so self-involved that instead of helping Buffy, she'd been getting on her case. The younger girl decided she would do whatever it took to get the vampire back. Just as she was trying to remember Lily's phone number, a scream sounded from the bathroom. Dawn rushed to the door and then hesitated outside. Maybe Buffy had simply fallen asleep and had a bad dream.

"Buffy? Are you okay?" she called through the door.

She waited for an answer. When none was forthcoming, she tried the door, finding it locked. She squatted down and examined the lock from the outside. Finding what she was looking for, she pulled a coin from her jeans pocket and fitted it into the slot in what looked like an oversized screw-head under the round door handle. There was a loud click as the bolt slipped back into the open position, and Dawn pushed the door open. Once again she thanked Spike for his pointers in petty larceny.

The sight that met her eyes momentarily left her paralysed with fear. Buffy lay in the tub, but her head had flopped back and to one side. If the bath had been free-standing, Dawn was sure it would be hanging right back. As it was, it was supported by the walls behind and along the side of the bath. It was obvious Buffy was unconscious. That alone wasn't what scared her younger sister so much. What scared her was the fact that where the bath water wasn't obscured by clouds of bubbles it was turning red, thick swirls of colour moving through the water as if it were some gross demonstration of Brownian motion. The coppery tang of blood filled the air, and Dawn had to concentrate to quell the churning it caused in her stomach before she was physically sick.

Dawn knew that the hot bath water would speed the bleeding and prevent any wounds from clotting. That was why people slit their wrists in the bath. So that meant the longer Buffy stayed in the bath, the more blood she was losing. Dawn reached down and pulled both her sister's arms slinging them over her own shoulder. She struggled with her sister's slick form; half lifting her and half dragging her startlingly light body out of the water and onto the bathmat.

Dawn grabbed a towel and wiped the mixed water and blood from Buffy's body, trying to find the wound or wounds the blood had come from. Even after close examination, she was unable to find a single blemish except for Spike's teeth marks on her neck, which had long since closed over.

 




 

Lorne debated what he should do next. He could call the Furies and get them to come over during the day tomorrow to put the Sanctuary spell in place around the hotel. As Holtz had proved, it had its limitations. Nevertheless it was better than nothing. He could skedaddle as fast as his tastefully draped legs would carry him, and hope the vamps wouldn't bother watching the exit through the sewers except in daylight, or that they didn't know about it. Lastly, he could start making phone calls to the others in the crew to warn them not to come back to the hotel. With a sigh, he pulled out the list of cell phone numbers and started dialling.

 

 

"What's up?" Gunn asked.

"Something needs to be up?" Lorne responded.

"For you to be callin' when we're out on a job?" When Lorne didn't immediately reply, Gunn continued. "Don't matter, man. We were just on our way back to base anyway, once we detoured past the taco stand. So, man, what is up?"

"We just got a heads-up that Angel's got some family in town. From what I've heard, enough family to fill a small convention hall."

"Whooo, I take it you ain't talkin' about any of the "good" side. And what does the main man have to say about this?"

"I left that job to Miss Sunnydale, along with letting him know that they've already got her honeybun."

"This call just keeps gettin' better and better," Gunn commented in a dry tone.

"Yeah, well, bearing in mind that they might already be watching the hotel, I'm thinking you and cup cake should maybe take Junior and find somewhere else to stay the night."

"That would be just fine... if Junior hadn't taken off after a bunch of vampires ten minutes ago."

"How big a bunch are we talkin' about, here?" Lorne asked wary of the answer he might get.

"'Bout five or six."

"From what I've heard that ain't even the tip of the iceberg. Sounds like they might be bait."

"Or they could just be a bunch of neighbourhood vamps lookin' to party. We'll see if we can catch up with 'im."

"And I'll call Daddy Dearest..."

Gunn cut the connection and turned to Fred. "Looks like we gotta whole mess a trouble. Seems like Connor might need some backup."

 




 

"Can't let you do that," a soft, and under other circumstances, Lorne would have said seductive, female voice came from the kitchen doorway. At the same time, the main doors of the hotel pushed open to admit a dozen people he suspected weren't really people any more, not in the strictest sense of the word.

"Sure you can, sugar." Lorne turned to face the woman who had addressed him, startled to realise that he recognised a couple of Caritas' former patrons in the group flanking her.

"'Fraid not. See according to the plan, Angel doesn't come into this until after we take all his people from him."

"Somehow, I can't see Angel liking that plan."

"I beg to differ. Angel likes the plan just fine, or he did when he used it on Grandma." She smiled broadly at Lorne as she sashayed across the room toward him. "So, what's it to be, songbird?" She reached up to stroke Lorne's cheek with her cold fingertips, before drawing them across his furrowed brow. "You want to take the limo ride in the back, or trussed up in the trunk?" Her thumb dropped to press against Lorne's eyelid. "Lonesome wants you alive, but I'm reliably informed that all we really need is your head. And eyes, well, they would also be optional extras, and you've got such pretty ones, too."

"Gee, honey, when you put it like that, it's like an invitation from mom. How's a guy goin' to refuse?"

The vampiress tossed her head back and patted Lorne on the cheek a couple of times. "He isn't. And the name isn't sugar or honey or any other confectionery you might care to mention. It's Scheherezade, and you'd do well to remember it."

The vampiress slipped an arm through Lorne's, drawing him toward the main exit as if he were escorting her on a date, instead of her prisoner.

A stretch limo waited outside, and once Lorne was safely ensconced in the back seat, surrounded on all sides by Scheherezade and as many of her clan as would fit, the vampiress turned to her apparent second in command.

"Keep an eye on the place and call if we have any more visitors. If no-one else shows up by half an hour before dawn, head back to base, but avoid contact with Angel, he belongs to Lonesome."

"What about the kid?"

"That hasn't been decided yet. For now we just watch, and if you get the chance to pick off a human straggler..."

Somehow, it didn't surprise Lorne at all when one of the vamp toadies opened up the small fridge compartment in back to produce a cocktail shaker from which he poured a perfect seabreeze.

"I would have thought Drusilla would have first dibs on our Angel," Lorne commented.

"That's what she thinks, too," responded the vamp.

'So,' thought the green demon. 'There's already dissension in the ranks.'

 




 

Connor pursued the fleeing vampires. He had easily picked off the first couple as they had fallen behind the main group, stealing furtive kisses. He still had four left to get, but when they had realised that two of their number had been taken out without them noticing, they had taken to the rooftops. Their plan would have allowed them to evade human pursuit, but then, Connor wasn't human.

When they realised that their pursuer wasn't just keeping up he was gaining, they turned as one to face him. The four lined up as if they were gunfighters making their stand on the Main Street of Dodge City. Connor ran at them, launching into a flying kick on one of the men at the end of the line. He reached out with an arm at the last possible instant, to catch the one next to that with a high speed clothesline. At least, it would have been a clothesline were it not for the stake in Connor's hand.

Both the vamps were bowled over by the impact while Connor managed to land deftly on his feet, only to go straight into a spinning kick, even as the one he'd staked turned to dust. That left one off-balance, one prone and one unimpaired. He allowed his momentum to carry him round full circle and staked the vampiress that he had just kicked. As she dusted, a broad fist impacted with Connor's face, and almost simultaneously, a blow from the vamp on the ground struck him behind one knee in an effort to take him down to the ground, too. Connor felt himself begin to fall. His father's words echoed in his brain. "Watch your balance. You lose it, you lose."

The vampire he hadn't managed to take down, smashed a boot into his face even as he was going over. Before his head could clear, the vamp on the ground grabbed his wrist slamming his hand repeatedly against the tarred roof, small particles of gravel that had been set in the tar for traction grazing Connor's knuckles until eventually his grip on the stake loosened. As he watched it roll away across the roof, he knew that was it. Sixteen years in the hell that was Quortoth had failed to prepare him for even a month on the streets of LA. He couldn't help but appreciate the irony.

The vampire who had been on the ground moved to straddle him, pinning his shoulders to the ground as the other vampire stepped back preparing to practice his punting with Connor's head as a replacement for the football.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," came a voice from the shadows along with the double click of two crossbows being cocked. "He's family. And we take care of our own."

The vampire stalled in his run-up and stared at the speaker. "This guy ain't no family to you. He ain't even the same race."

"Nobody's the same race he is. But he's family just the same."

"Man. You ain't so-"

The words were cut off as the vampire turned to dust, a wooden bolt through his heart. The figure in the shadows turned to the remaining vamp, who was still holding Connor down. "I suggest you run," he told him as he methodically reloaded, "cause if you're still here in, say seven seconds, you'll be joining your friends in hell, about a second after that."

 
Chapter 1:06
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.06
Saturday, May 11th, 2002

Willow tapped away on the keyboard. "Somewhere, there's got to be something to say where they are. You can't just swing into town with an army of vamps and not leave some sort of trace."

"But you said yourself there hasn't been a noticeable increase in deaths or missing persons. So either they've got someone in the police department, or rather lots of someones, or they're brown-bagging it," Tara suggested.

"Of course," Willow started typing rapidly again.

"Wha' d' I say?" Tara asked.

"Blood bags. They're not killing people. Least ways not enough for it to be noticeable, so far. So maybe they're using butchers, but somehow I can't see Drusilla living off pig's blood, which leaves hospitals and blood banks." Willow turned toward Tara as she spoke, catching the coffee cup next to her terminal as she did so and knocking it to the floor.

"Oh shoot!" Willow ducked to mop at the mess with a tissue. "Why don't you get us another couple of cups and maybe some muffins? And I guess it's time to admit we'll be here till closing time."

"Sure. It's not like I'm a lot of help with the hacking. Kinda makes me miss Giles and his books."

As soon as Tara headed for the cafe counter, Willow ceased all pretence at working the computer normally. Safely hidden from the other customers by cubicle walls, she used magic to access the records of the local hospitals, clinics and blood banks. Three showed marked increases in their blood usage over the preceding weeks.

Willow frowned. If the evil bloodsucking fiends weren't actually sucking people, were they still evil bloodsucking fiends? She mentally filed that one away with the one about if a tree falls in a forest. She scribbled down the names with seconds to spare before Tara returned with a tray full of snacky goodness. Now all she had to do was backtrack and see if she could find a link between the three. Maybe when Tara visited the ladies?

 




 

Dawn dialled the number for Xander and Anya's apartment from memory.

"Anya? Are you there?" she gasped before Xander could get a word in.

"Hey, Dawnie. How's" Everything after the first syllable of Dawn's name was drowned out by Dawn's rapid-fire interruption.

"Xander, I haven't got time. Just shut-up and put Anya on."

"Anya's visiting an old friend." Xander seemed to place undue emphasis on certain words. Dawn was suddenly reminded that it had been decided the previous night that the vengeance demon would use her teleportation skill to apprise Giles in person of the group's suspicions about being under surveillance. "And don't think I won't be telling your sister how you speak to your elders, missy."

"Feel free, if she's around to talk to, but for now just make yourself useful and see if you can find her address book."

"Dawn Summers, put your sister on the phone right now."

"Gee, Xander, she's right next to me, and she hasn't complained. Just find the damned address book and look for a number for where the three of us went last night."

"But you've already got that. At least Fangless has."

"Xander, is there anything else you want to say, or will you fetch the damn book?"

"Dawn?" The weak question had Dawn throwing the receiver to the floor. "Who're you calling?"

"Nobody, just directory assistance," Dawn answered. She grabbed the handset up off the floor. "Look, have a real nice evening. Why not take your girlfriend somewhere..."

There was a flash of light outside the bathroom door, and Dawn shifted to peer round its edge. "Never mind." Dawn returned the handset to its cradle.

"Say, how about I just give you some time on your own to get dressed?" Dawn took the phone back to the main room as she left.

"So what's up?" asked Anya brightly.

"I'm guessing since Buffy just managed to summon a vengeance demon all the way from Tweeddom within a minute of being conscious that whatever it is, it's not good, but..." Her words faded away as Buffy walked into the room wrapped in a towel that barely covered her ass. Other than looking a little pale, she seemed to be none the worse for her ordeal, just royally pissed.

"Anya, nice of you to drop in. How's things? Notice you've got your pendant back."

"Well, I went to see Giles like we talked about at that bar Spike took us to. Where is he, by the way?"

"You tell me," Buffy answered. "I just got the psychic backlash. He got the real deal, so if I'm this ticked off, then I would imagine he'd be lit up like a vengeance beacon."

Anya frowned. "Nope, you're the only real blip against all the background radiation, so to speak."

"You mean Spike's dead?" Dawn asked in an anguished tone.

"Well, yes." Anya answered. "But that's not why I'm not picking him up. I normally hear vampires perfectly well."

Dawn slapped Anya on the arm.

"Ow. What was that for? Buffy, she hit me."

"And you made me think Spike was dead when he wasn't."

"Dawn." Buffy's voice sounded rather like Joyce's 'I'm at the end of my tether, and you don't want to be around if this goes any further' voice. "Okay, Anya.Why can't you feel him? I don't know what happened, but I know he just got hurt bad."

"Well, either he doesn't bear any ill-will toward the person that hurt him. I mean you'd be amazed how often that happens, mostly in relationships though. Battered wives and so on, they get conditioned into thinking they deserve it, so it never occurs to them to blame the person doing the hurting, but that's not the case here. I mean you wouldn't... Anyway, I'd go with the more obvious option." Anya stopped as if the other two shouldn't need her to spell it out.

"Yes?" Buffy asked in a tone of iron a she tried once more to keep a lid on her guilt. Spike might have let her hurt him. That didn't mean he would take it from anyone else.

"He's unconscious or dead, or quite possibly in his case, both. If he's badly hurt, like you say, even vampires pass out now and again. So how did you all get split up in the first place?"

"Long story," Buffy responded. "Think you could pass it on to Clem when you get back to Sunnydale? I get the feeling we're going to be looking for all the help we can get before we're through."

"Sure. I'll even make sure Xander helps, if he can."

"Xander help Spike? Neither of them would forgive me if I even suggested it."

"He'll still do it if I threaten to cut him off," Anya said.

"Anya," Buffy gave the vengeance demon a quizzical look. "We are just talking figuratively here, aren't we? Not Bobbitville?"

 




 

"It's no fun if he doesn't scream."

"Now, Dru, you can make him scream all you want later. First, though, we let the nice doctors play with him and take away the baby fishes. Remember?"

"Couldn't I make him scream, just a little, first and take away the fishes once he comes home again?"

"No, Dru. We need to get the operation taken care of today, before anyone begins to join the dots. You'll be up in the mountains training your puppy before they link us to the hospitals."

"What about the Angel-beast? Can I make him scream instead?"

"You can make him scream all you want. But first we're going to take away all the people he cares about. Remember? We'll make him pay for how he hurt you. Now, pass the phone to Jennifer."

A period of silence followed. "Dru. Be a good girl now. You won't have to wait long,"

Dru grudgingly passed the phone to one of the other vamps.

"Hey," the newcomer acknowledged.

"How's he doing?" Lonesome asked.

"The bleeding's stopped, but so far he's not really healing. Other than that, he's hooked up to a couple of morphine drips that would keep an elephant down. He won't be causing any problems. We'll be at the clinic in about ten minutes. After that, it's down to the quacks."

"Good. The sooner he's up and running and back to playing nursemaid for mommy dearest, the sooner the rest of us get some peace and quiet. I'll call Fairfield and let them know you're coming in."

"You think they're really up to this?"

"If they can give a guy an evil hand, they can take a chip out of a vampire, and if they can't, then they're just walking dead men, and not in the good way. Speak to you later."

 




 

"Gee, if I'd known how long the ride was going to be, I'd have visited the little boys' room before I left."

"We can always land if you really want, but we'd have to cuff you to a couple of the guys first," Scheherazade answered, raising her voice only slightly to make herself heard over the noise of the rather swish helicopter. .

"You sure you don't want to supervise yourself?"

"Intriguing as the suggestion is, my daddy always taught me to at least get a decent dinner from a guy before I feel up his dick."

"So where are we headed?" Lorne asked his captor.

"My place. One of them."

"And we're headed there because... "

"We're headed there because it's in the middle of nowhere. You need a proper four-wheel drive or a chopper to get in or out, and you could walk till your Gucci loafers came to pieces and never meet anyone, living or dead, human or demon that doesn't work for me."

"Something tells me you ain't exactly new to this lifestyle?"

"Well, sure, baby. Doesn't take a brain-surgeon to figure that out. Or did you think I got turned for my looks?" She flashed a wicked and not unattractive smile. "You think our boy picked his people up off the street. Hell, no. He picked them out of his Rolodex. The best and the brightest. The ones with money and connections. The ones who own the companies who own the hospitals. The ones who own the slaughter houses. The ones who already have enough money to live the sort of life you would want to have for eternity. What's the point in being poor forever?"

"It works for some people. And your boy? What does he get?"

"Once this business is over... a straight ten percent cut. Not a bad deal for eternal life."

"I take it he's collecting quite a few commissions."

"Sure is. Nobody's going to come take no farm from him."

"And where do I fit in?" Lorne asked.

"The way I see it, you don't. You've got some 'gift' we don't want the 'good guys' to use, but if you don't co-operate, it really works out a lot easier to kill you than to keep you.

Lucky for you, someone finds the world a bit more interesting with you in it."

 




 

"What do you mean, suspended? I was your employee of the month for seventy-three years in a row, and Halfrek only won out on the numbers with that whole flu pandemic thing. It's not like she was really creative or anything..."

"Anyanka, you just teleported ten thousand miles in one day, and not a wish to show for it."

"Is it my fault that Buffy won't say any of the things she's thinking out loud?"

"Once, you would have loosened her tongue and had no qualms about how you did it. I fear you have outlived your usefulness to me, Anyanka." D' Hoffryn gave a melodramatic sigh.

"Well, you could at least have let me teleport home before you canned me."

"And what would be the fun in that? I am evil you know."

With a flash of light, the horned demon disappeared, leaving Anya alone with her rapidly cooling, happy hour collection only special pizza and her similarly quickly melting tub of lemon cheesecake Haagen Dazs. That was when there was the first ominous flash of lightning, swiftly followed by a crash of thunder. Then, it started to rain so hard she was almost looking round to see if she could see Noah.

In seconds the pizza box was so wet it began to fall to pieces, and she was forced to drop it into the next convenient bin. Anya's hair and clothes were plastered to her body, but her spirit was far from drowned. Still clutching her tub of ice-cream, she yelled her defiance, oblivious to the strange looks of passers-by. "Alright, you evil, blue fairy, you. I get the message. You made me into a "real" girl. I get wet when it rains, and I can't teleport. Big deal! I get friends that care about me and a husband who loves me even if I don't take home his favourite pizza and I do say embarrassing stuff sometimes. And when was the last time anyone gave you an orgasm you blue, bearded, horny freak?"

 
Chapter 1:07
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.07
Sunday, May 12th, 2002

The scene looked like nothing so much as an extended family picnic. Buffy's mood, however, was far from jovial. In fact, murderous would be a far closer approximation to the truth. Willow found herself wondering how long the slayer had been deceiving herself about her true feelings for the vampire, for her to be so deeply affected. It was certainly hard for the Wicca to accept that until just over a week ago she, for one, had been oblivious to the on-off affair the pair had been conducting.

"Where the blazes are they? All they had to do was show up. We've hired a car, cleared out everything from our old rooms, raided the mall for enough cell phones for a small country, and bought lunch."

Buffy picked up a sandwich, knowing she should eat something, if only to provide an example for Dawn, but ended up putting it back down without even attempting to open the wrapping. Her fingers kneaded absently at her temples until she noticed Dawn's eyes following the giveaway gesture. The whole scene was just too reminiscent of the night that she and Spike had managed to get the sand, which was currently irritating her hands, on the blanket in the first place. Same sandwiches, same blanket, same cooler. Same company? Who knew when they would get him back.

Wesley tried to defend his former colleagues. "I'm sure they've just been held up in traffic or something. They are generally quite reliable."

"Yeah, when Cordelia's there to keep Angel's ass in line." Dawn couldn't help but betray her partiality.

"Dawn!" Buffy automatically started to go into lecture mode but stalled as she thought how, had he been here, Spike would have smiled with his lips, but laughed with his eyes, silently encouraging her sister in her vendetta against his grandsire. "Not constructive, okay?" she finished in a far softer voice than she originally intended.

"Like what you just said was?"

"Em, Buffy?" Willow nodded in the direction of the parking lot. "That wouldn't be Fred heading our way? She kinda hid the last time I was here."

Buffy and Wesley both turned as one to see the figure she was looking at. Even at a distance, it only took a fraction of a second for Wesley to pick out the differences. "She's too short, and her hair's too light. The way she moves isn't right either. Fred's more... coltish." Tara gave a knowing smile, wondering if the Englishman realised just how much he had given away to a group of people, who were almost total strangers.

The woman seemed to be heading straight toward them, and as she neared the group, she pushed her sunglasses up to rest on her forehead. Buffy figured the gesture was deliberate, removing the barrier that would have prevented the group from making eye-contact. The woman's ponytail hung down past her shoulders and was a couple of shades lighter than Dawn's. She wore a white camisole top teamed with faded blue jeans and a silver dolphin pendant, but her footwear was a concession to practicality; well-worn comfortable trainers. She carried the biggest bag of Cheese Doodles that Buffy had ever seen in one hand, and they seemed to be out of place somehow, but Buffy couldn't think why. She seemed to be appraising the group as she came closer, as if she were trying to fit them to their descriptions, which of course, she was. Her blue eyes, fair skin and the smattering of freckles across her nose somehow seemed to fit with every stereotype of a Midwest farmer's daughter that Buffy had ever seen. Still, Buffy wasn't surprised when her accent turned out to be pure California.

The woman tossed the bag of chips underhand toward Dawn. "Clem sends his regards. He's waiting in the car with Lily. He prefers to avoid too much direct sunlight. He says putting on all that sun block is way too much like hard work."

The group as a whole, seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, but Buffy couldn't afford to take things on face value at the moment. "That still doesn't tell me who you are?"

"Lori, Lori Patton. You have to be Buffy, Dawn, Tara. Hear you play a mean hand of poker." She nodded to the members of the group as she said their names. "I'm afraid Clem couldn't remember your real name, just that Spike pretty much always calls you Red. And you , I know nothing about, at all," she admitted to Wesley.

"In case you're wondering why I'm here..." the woman shrugged. "Marie would say that I'm her assistant. The creeps at City Hall would say that I'm her secretary, and the reality probably falls somewhere between the two. More importantly, I'm her friend. Marie can't be here herself. She's got Rosa to look after, and as she put it, she's got court dates "up the wazoo". But anything an extra pair of hands or eyes, or an extra body can help with, I'm here for as long as you want."

"Do you know what you're getting into, here?" Buffy asked.

"I'm no demon hunter or whatever, but I can look after myself most of the time, and I research stuff for a living. I can drive, and I gather with Spike gone, you girls have a bit of a problem with that, and yes, I know that we're looking at a big bunch of vamps, the like of which we haven't seen in Sunny D since Spike was running the town."

"Okay, Clem and Lily vouch for what you've told me, and you're in," Buffy conceded.

"Marie wanted to help out, too. Like I said, she's pretty much stuck in Sunnydale. She said to let you know that Dawn's welcome to stay with her for as long as it takes for you to get things sorted out, if that's okay with both of you."

Buffy gave her sister a wry half-smile. "You know you've got to go back. We can't afford for you to miss school with the whole Social Services thing and all that."

"It's okay, Buffy. I know you'll be happier with me safely out the way. And if that makes it easier for you to concentrate on getting Spike back, so much the better, but if there's anything we can be doing back in Sunnydale to help, I want to know."

"Marie said if you wanted to hop a flight, she could pick you up at the airport, or if you prefer, I can drive you back," the newcomer added.

"I don't suppose you happen to know the times for those flights?" Buffy asked.

"Every two hours at ten minutes past the hour. Last flight ten past eight. Last flight out before sundown ten past six."

"Okay, people," said Buffy as she began packing things back into the cooler. "Mohammed won't get off his butt and come to the mountain, then he can't blame the mountain if it pays him a visit. I vote we spare Clem the prospect of sunburn and move this meeting to the Angel's place."

 




 

"You really think he would come back here?" Connor asked. "Wouldn't that be really stupid?"

"Well, it's not so much that I think he would come back here, as I really don't know where else he would go," Gunn admitted.

Connor hesitated as they opened the doors leading from the hotel garden into the foyer. "They have been here. The others. Many of them and also something else. Something most foul. The scent seems old, but we should be careful."

The group cautiously checked out the ground floor before making their way upstairs to Angel's room. Gunn slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, only to immediately start gagging and coughing.

Connor pushed the door fully open, and the other two followed him in. "As I said, something most foul." He gestured in the direction of Angel's bin, which was currently overflowing with viscera soaked clothing.

"Well this is all well and good, but who gets to wake him up?" Gunn asked.

"I'll do it," came a voice from the doorway. "I don't think we've got time to wait while you three start playing "One potato, Two potato"."

Wesley walked past the three Angel Investigations employees and grasped Angel's exposed shoulder, shaking it firmly. Almost instantaneously, Wesley found his had clenched in a painfully tight grip. For a fraction of a second, before Angel awoke fully, Wesley found himself matching wills with a golden-eyed demon. Then Angel's eyes turned to their more normal brown, though the glare he gave Wesley was no less cold. Wes met his gaze without flinching. Spike was right. He had nothing of which to be ashamed. He had acted as his conscience dictated, using the knowledge he had at the time as the basis for his decision. He had tried to check the veracity of the prophecy in every way possible before taking the drastic action he had deemed necessary. And Angel could go fuck himself if he thought Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was going to back down just because he put on a temper tantrum.

"You're not wanted here, Wesley," the vampire told him.

"That goes for all of us, English," Gunn added his support.

"Be that as it may, since I'm here to help tidy up Angel's mess, since we, by which I mean myself and your guests who are waiting downstairs, are only here now because you failed en masse to make any attempt to meet at the rendezvous which had been arranged and since of those present, Buffy is the party who has suffered most grievously so far in this campaign and she has requested my help, I will remain until such time as she might choose to dispense with my services.

Should you choose to take any form of responsibility for your actions in letting this situation come to pass, we will be pleased for you to join us downstairs. They do say better late than never." With that Wesley turned on his heel and left the room.

"Was he just speaking the same language as what we all speak?" Gunn asked.

"Give or take the odd phrase," Angel answered. "Do any of you have the least idea what he's talking about?"

"You mean you didn't talk to Lorne last night? He didn't call you?"

"No, should he have?"

"Damn straight, brother. And you probably didn't talk to your ex neither." Gunn picked up Angel's cell phone from the bedside table. After glancing at the screen, he checked the latest text advising him that he had a voicemail message. Giving the vampire a long-suffering look, he then accessed Angel's voicemail, upping the volume and holding the phone halfway between his own ear and Fred's. All four listened as Buffy gave a brief description of the situation as at the earlier part of the previous evening, followed by details of the rendezvous.

Even in a recorded message, Buffy's distress was apparent to all in the room, as was her willingness to use every tactic possible to get Angel's help. "Look, Angel. I know you can't exactly come play in the sunshine, but if you wait somewhere while the rest of your people check things out, we can all meet up. And I know you all blame Wesley for what happened with Stephen, but I need him to get Spike back, just like I'm going to need all of you. I'm playing an away game here, and I can't afford to lose. I know I'm asking a lot. And I guess, I'm as much to blame for letting her walk away that last time in Sunnydale, as you are for the time you let her walk away from LA, but she's gone too far this time, and not just with Spike.

Angel, I asked him what the deal with you two was. He wasn't exactly over the moon about it. It hurt his pride, but he told me. This is one instance where I'm not going to accept the Angelus line. You owe him. And I'm calling it in."

"He was right," said Connor. "It is your mess."

"Em, not that I want to interrupt," Fred began in her quiet way, "but am I the only one that's kinda worried about why Lorne didn't make that phone call and why Connor said he could smell that all these other vampires that had been in here, 'cause I'm guessin' that if Angel smelled like that when he got in last night, I kinda doubt that he was goin' to notice, and that probably means that they've got Lorne. At least, something stopped him makin' that phone call and there isn't a body, except we haven't checked his room yet, so maybe there is... Did Lorne say whether he was callin' from his room or from the desk? Maybe we should go check his room. D'you think?"

 




 

Lorne had made a point of listening out for the helicopter's comings and goings. After all, there wasn't much else to do. He appeared to have free rein. No-one had impeded his progress as he had explored the cabin, if you can call somewhere with twelve bedrooms a cabin, or the surrounding grounds. Unfortunately, his hostess hadn't been exaggerating when she had said that you would need a helicopter or a good four wheel drive to reach the place. She'd just neglected to mention that the four wheel drive in question would also need to be fitted with a winch. The cabin was situated on a... well, ledge was an accurate description, albeit slightly misleading as regards the scale of the place. It still conveyed the impression of the cliff face that rose up behind the cabin, and continued down to the ravine floor hundreds of feet below. Not that the geographical remoteness of the accommodation was the only reason they let him wander where he wanted. He suspected the low-jack they had fitted around his ankle also had something to do with it. All the windows and doors were protected with security shutters and only the main doorway was left uncovered. Somehow, Lorne didn't think this was to protect against burglars.

About the only thing he could say for it was that the acoustics were pretty darn good. He had stood at the edge of the cliff and belted out the first few bars of "Indian Love Call" from Rose Marie, but it kinda defeated the point of the exercise when you had to do your own answering. Over the course of the night, the helicopter had left, come back, and left again. Since its last visit, several of the previously vacant bedrooms were now locked up tight. Whether that was to protect who or whatever was inside, or whether it was to keep them inside was anyone's guess, though he suspected the former for the most part. Every hour or so, someone would check on one the rooms, unlocking it from the outside. Other than that they seemed to leave the room's occupants to themselves.

Currently, Lorne was keeping himself amused by tinkering on the baby grand in the main reception room. Far be it from him to wonder about how they had managed to get the thing up here in the first place, or to marvel at anyone coming all this way for the purpose of tuning it. As long as it was here, and he had vodka, cranberry, fresh grapefruit and ice, he would make the most of his little period of incarceration.

The guard appeared to do his hourly check, and Lorne decided it was time to belt out a chorus or two of "Release Me"

"Ah, shuddup!" bellowed the guard. "We ain't gettin' paid to listen to you caterwaulin'"

"Hey, I'll have you know I've been offered my own show in Vegas, sweet cheeks. Maybe the next time you get a vacation, you could be paying to hear me."

"Only if nobody kills ya first. Come up here and make yourself useful."

Lorne sighed, but he supposed useful was better than bored. He followed the man into the shaded room.

"Right, every hour, ya stick one of these in a mug," he indicated one of several bags of human blood. "Ya take this." He picked up a straw and stuck it into the mug. "And ya feed that." He shoved the mug into Lorne's hands and gestured to a figure that was not only strapped face-down to a gurney, but held down with numerous cuffs, chains and padlocks as well. "And don't get no ideas 'bout settin' him loose or offin' him, 'cause, either way, you'll end up dead as a dodo."

With those final comforting words, the goon made his exit and left Lorne and Spike alone.

Spike raised sleepy eyelids to watch Lorne as he brought the oversized mug over. The vampire managed a wry grin, even though he winced as the movement set off another wave of pain from his chip. He corrected himself. From the hole they had left when they took out his chip. "Sso," he still slurred slightly from the last remains of the drugs in his system. "Wasn' a nightmare. Really was a lounge act doing a five-hundred decibel rendition of 'Look Homeward,' bloody 'Angel' in the next room."

"'Fraid so, sweetie."

"Always thought Johnny Ray was underrated... but I never did like that one for some reason."

 

It was several hours and not a few blood packets later before the drugs had cleared Spike's system enough, and the blood he had drunk allowed him to heal enough to manage a proper conversation. Once he'd got as much information as he could about where they were, who else was there and what was going on, as best the anagogic demon could tell, conversation turned to another matter.

"I gather from your honey bun, that present circumstances not withstanding, congratulations would be in order... again."

"Yeah, we've got plenty to celebrate lately. Least we will have once I get out of here. What event exactly are we commemorating now?"

"The whole psychic bond, Ring of Fire, deal."

"Ring of Fire?" Spike asked.

"So I borrowed from Johnny Cash. Let him try to sue me. It sounds better than "Ever-encroaching inescapable passion that may or may not prove fatal or cause insanity," which, by the way, is the literal translation from Pylean."

"And I'm sure if I was from Pie-lee or wherever, then I wouldn't have to ask you to explain again, in English, this time."

"Well, see, we have this sort of similar ritual that some people do back home. At least, how you do the ritual isn't exactly similar, and we won't go into that, but when both the participants have been trained to use their empathic abilities, you sort of get the same result?" Lorne glanced across at Spike waiting for an indication that he was following so far.

"They call it... Okay, I call it the Ring of Fire, puddin', 'cause there ain't no way out. There's just you and her. At first you're kind of feeling your way. The bond lets you relate to each other in ways you didn't think were possible before, and it makes you feel kinda warm inside, sort of like standing a few feet from a bonfire on a cold night at the beach. Over time, you get to know each other, maybe better than you know yourselves. The flames burn that bit brighter and closer, and you learn things you'd rather were kept secret. The fire starts to burn, to hurt. Compared with how things are between the pair of you, it's like the rest of the world could burn right up and you might not even notice, and maybe you'll get so wrapped up in each other that you'll let it do just that. Your girl comes with a heavy destiny and nothing good'll come of it if she neglects a sacred duty."

"You think I don't know that? You think I don't try to help her?" Spike interjected.

"Sure you do, sugar. You'd do anything for her. But what happens to the world if she feels the same way about you? And what happens to the pair of you if she doesn't? What if, somewhere down the line you find out that all that's holding you together is passion? If you can't both see all the bad, as well as the good, and love each other still, then it'll destroy you just as easily as it can purify. You two signed up for the emotional equivalent of the auto de fé. And until those flames close right in around your feet, there ain't no way to tell whether the pair of you are going to burn up like tinder, or be tempered like steel."

Lorne took a sip from his drink and treated Spike to a contemplative look.

"Back home, it's kind of reserved for all these noble champion types, 'cause, truth to tell, most people don't want to know that much about anyone else, and if they do, they don't want them knowing all their little secrets. It's got to be one of those great kyrumption things before anyone would be nuts enough to try it, but they say if you don't wind up hating each others guts so much that you either go insane or destroy each other, then you can both draw great power from the union."

"Well. Isn't that quite the cheery little thought? Y' know you almost make me wish that whatever Dru has planned to break the bond would work... Except for one little thing."

"And what's that?"

"Buffy. She wears my mark and I wear hers. Dru can cut chunks out of my hide until you can't see a single tooth mark and it won't change anything between us. If we have to do the ritual all over again, we will, because I realised a long way back that Buffy will always be drawn to the flames, and for her, I'd walk through the nine circles of hell and take a detour to heaven besides."

"Well, cup cake" Lorne drawled. "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that... Not that you wouldn't cut quite a dash."

 
Chapter 1:08
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.08
Sunday, May 12th, 2002

Angel, Connor, Gunn and Fred surveyed round Lorne's empty room. "So, no-one has seen Lorne since we left here last night? And the last time he spoke to any of us was when he spoke to me? And he said that he was going to call you straight away, but he didn't?" Gunn confirmed.

"And his bed hasn't been slept in, and Connor says that the reception smells like strange vampires, so they've got him, haven't they?" Fred said what none of them wanted to admit.

"And with him, goes our last link to the powers," Angel added grimly. "They're trying to make sure we can't find them. I don't know who Dru's got working with her, but they know too much about us."

"And if they took Lorne, maybe they took Cordy, too."

"I don't think so. If there had been vampires near her car, either me or Connor would have picked up on it." Angel gave his head a weary shake. "This is something different."

"Not that I want to rain on your parade, but how long had Cordy's car been sitting at the side of the highway when you found it? An hour? Two? With a nice breeze off the ocean the whole time? And they wouldn't need to go near her car. Just overtake her and pull in as if they'd broken down or something. She might not be a mechanic, but she woulda pulled over and offered to call one, especially if it looked like a car full of young girls or something. She could have gone over to see if she could help," Gunn suggested.

"I would have known." Angel's voice brooked no further argument.

"Ho-o-o-kaay! Well, if that concludes that topic of conversation, I guess maybe it's time we went to see what all is happenin' with the party downstairs."

 

Angel and he presumed Connor could hear sounds of arguing long before they reached the reception.

"Just tell me, Wesley." Buffy's tone bristled with indignation.

"It won't do any good. I had thought to enlist Spike's aid in the matter, but now there's only one person who can do it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not holding my breath, and I am dead, or I was, twice even, so spill,"

"It really ought to be Angel. You may have died, but you aren't dead. If that were the criteria then I wouldn't have needed anyone else in the first place."

"And you think-"

"What ought to be Angel?" the vampire asked as he purposefully made his way downstairs at the head of his remaining people.

Wesley watched the group approach and couldn't restrain the thought that Angel's penance after the whole Darla / Drusilla affair had been short-lived. Even as others suffered the consequences of his actions, Angel forsook the facade of the sinner, who wanted to redeem himself by working for the others.

Wesley's face twisted into a bitter grimace as he tossed a manila folder to the vampire. "I was keeping myself busy whilst I considered my job options."

Angel opened the file, staring at the photographs of Cordelia and her car. "You did your own investigation?"

"Apparently with more success than you. However, the potential source of information could prove equally useful to find Spike, since apparently his location is warded in some manner, which reduces the efficacy of normal location spells." Wesley indicated some spell-casting paraphernalia on the reception floor. "However, I doubt that she would care to give you information on both."

"Em," Fred interrupted. "Now that you all are here, couldn't we try one of these location spell thingies to find Cordy and Lorne, and then ask whoever about Spike?"

"Lorne's missing, too?" Wesley asked.

"That's the green guy? Right?"

Wesley nodded a confirmation to Buffy, and then looked to the Angel Investigations crowd for an explanation. Gunn was the one to respond. "He called me last night. Said he was goin' to get straight on to Angel, but he never did. Connor reckons there were a bunch of vamps here last night, so we figure they took him before he could make the second call."

Buffy looked across at the teenager, only to find him eyeing Clem and Lily with evident distaste. "Can you tell whether Spike was here last night."

Connor shook his head. "Not if he was wearing that same cologne. There were a lot though, and they're all related."

"To each other or to you?" Dawn asked pointedly. It seemed that Buffy wasn't the only one who had been aware of the looks Connor had been sending Clem and Lily's way.

"Both," Angel and his offspring answered simultaneously, even as Lily whispered soothingly in Dawn's ear. "Be still, child. His hatred harms no one so much as it harms himself. A child so full of self-loathing deserves understanding, not anger. He stands at a crossroads. Don't push him toward a wrong path."

"I'd say there were at least twenty vamps here, and neither Dru nor Spike were among them. They're all young, and I couldn't bet on it, but I don't even think any of them were even Dru's. My best guess would be that she turned one, and there's a good chance he or she's still with her, and then this one's turned a few who've turned a few. Beyond the first half-dozen, you've got weak vamps making weaker ones."

Willow pulled a printout from her bag and walked forward to pass it to Angel. "Weak enough to account for this?" Angel looked down at the numbers on the hospital reports. "You're sure these numbers are right?"

Willow gave him a hurt look. "Sorry, it's just if you had twenty or so vamps getting this much human blood... Then we'd have some seriously strong fledglings about."

"But we're not talking about twenty," said Connor. "Because round about the same time they were here, I was having a little discussion of my own. We've got at least forty."

"Either of those two batches mostly women?" Buffy asked.

Connor and Angel both shook their heads.

"Up that to nearer seventy."

"You didn't tell us you'd seen no vamps other than the ones you went after." Gunn's tone with Connor was decidedly antagonistic.

"You weren't in any danger. They were just watching."

"Yeah, just watchin' while you let me lead them right to my people."

"Guys, can we get back to Wesley's file and whatever Fred was saying?" Dawn asked, "Cause the sooner somebody goes and talks to whoever, the sooner we get somebody back."

"A standard location spell won't do any good to find Cordelia. I can't prove it but I believe she's no longer in this plane of existence," Wesley supplied.

"So, I go and talk to this Dinza, and she tells us where Cordy is, and we go get her," Angel replied.

"See. I told you!" Buffy looked at Wesley, seemingly reverting to their earlier argument, even as Wesley rebutted Angel's comment.

"I doubt that you'll find it that simple. Dinza is one of the Elusian mysteries. A demi-goddess of the lost. Only the dead may enter her realm, and those who do, she is often reputed to trap there. And it's doubtful that she'll tell you where anyone is. At best, she'll give you a pointer as to where you should look. However, she's hardly trustworthy, and I'm sure it would amuse her to trap a Champion for the Powers."

"But he has to get Spike back first, not Cordelia," Dawn protested.

Angel fixed his gaze on the teenager. "And why would that be? Spike's a monster. He's done terrible things. Why does he deserve to be rescued more than Cordelia does?"

"He doesn't." Buffy admitted, "but it's the logical thing to do."

Angel obviously didn't manage to connect the dots on his own, but Fred supplied the missing links.

"If Dinza will only help you once, then if you ask about Cordy, and we get her back, that's it. But if you ask about Spike, and we get him back and maybe Lorne's in the same place, then Spike can go to Dinza and ask about Cordy. Of course, it's also possible that if we get Cordy back, she might have a vision about where the others are."

"You want me to trust Spike to get Cordy back?" Angel asked Buffy incredulously.

"And you want me to give up our best hope of finding him for some vapid ex-cheerleader." Buffy stepped forward as she made her reply until she and Angel were almost toe-to-toe.

Angel glowered down at his petite ex. "Cordelia isn't like that any more."

"And Spike isn't some ravening monster either, but that didn't stop you bringing it up," Buffy spat back at him.

"It's hardly in the same league. Cordelia works for the Powers That Be."

"Yeah? And how many apocalypses has she helped prevent? And how often has she stood up to a god to protect one little girl? And if they're so almighty powerful, then they can look after her, can't they?"

Angel had forgotten just how mad Buffy could make him. "The Powers didn't save Doyle and they didn't save you."

"Angel, I didn't want to be saved. I was tired and I had fought long enough. It was better to go then, when it meant something, than to drag it out in some meaningless charade that I was protecting the world when I couldn't even protect my own family. Are you telling me Doyle didn't make a similar choice?"

"By that standard Spike chose to be where he is now. No-one knows what happened to Cordy."

"Fine," the slayer yelled as if Angel wasn't mere inches from her. "But, if we can't find another way to find him, it'll be on your head when I take Lily round every demon bar in LA until we find a vamp that's telling the truth when he says he's prepared to turn me."

"You cannot be telling me that Spike means that much to you."

"Why not? There was a time I would have done it for you. There was a time I would have done anything short of damning the entire world for you, and you didn't even love me enough to stay in the same town.

Spike is mine. Every pound of flesh, every drop of blood in his veins, every thought that passes through his head, every last feeling, every last impulse. It's all mine, and I'm his. You never knew what I would have done for you, so you can't ever hope to comprehend what I would do for my mate."

"Your mate?" Angel almost growled, despite the fact he had been warned that it was on the cards.

"My mate. My lover . My future husband . The man I love. Are we catching on, yet? I could have sworn we covered this last week."

"Spike wasn't your mate last week."

"But we said that we were just waiting for Giles."

"So Giles gave you the all-clear, just like that?"

"Actually, no, but I don't see that it's any of your business."

"It's my business when you come asking for favours, and you're judgement is obviously skewed."

"And your being in love with Cordelia has nothing to do with why you want her back, 'cause you sure don't seem half as bothered about good, old Lorne there," Buffy pointed out.

"Children! This help no one. The vampire must do what to him is right. We must all take the consequences. And if Spike die, then we curse the name of he who betrays the blood."

Angel's jaw dropped, and he stared at Lily in disbelief. "Who is this?"

"Oh, sorry, did we skip the introductions?" Buffy asked in a sarcastic tone of voice. "This is Lily, and her son Clem and Lori. They drove down this morning from Sunnydale to help out getting Spike back. I think, other than that, the only person you don't know is Tara. Anya would have been here, too, but apparently she had some sort of employee / employer dispute that resulted in them taking away her teleportation privileges. You did know that Xander's wife was a vengeance demon, didn't you?" Buffy asked with a sunny smile. She decided that it wasn't really necessary to let Angel know Anya's currently inactive status, so long as he got the point that where Spike was concerned, she wasn't the only person with skewed judgement.

"Did she just threaten to curse me?"

"Only if Spike dies." Buffy said with a smile. "Of course, she'd have to try real hard to top the whole soul thing. But, I'm sure she'd think of something. After all, she probably comes closer to thinking of him as family than you do." It was really so much better having Lily around when you were absolutely on the same side.

"Spike like favourite brother's son," Lily confirmed.

"And did I tell you she's empathic, so all those nasty feelings you're having toward him..." Buffy raised an eyebrow toward Lily, who merely gave a curt nod. "They aren't secret any more.

Why don't you take Wesley's file into the office and read it properly. And while you think things over, think of this...

Stephen, would you be here now with Angel, if Spike hadn't opened his big mouth the night your father died?"

Connor shook his head. "That woman told me that Angelus killed my father, and I would have found a way to get revenge," he stated.

"I think you should be feeling pretty grateful that Spike chose to be so eloquent."

Angel took the file and headed for his office, looking as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Buffy could admit to feeling slightly guilty about pressuring Angel into asking this Dinza about Spike. It was only very slightly though, and she was so going to hug Lily the second they were out of sight of Angel's crowd. Buffy looked over in Lily's direction as the demon, who had called a two hundred and fifty year old vampire a child, held out her hand palm down and jiggled it slightly to show Angel's decision could still go either way.

 




 

The two factions sat facing each other, each wanting the return of their own people to take precedence over the other ongoing problems. Tension filled the air and would not dissipate until Angel returned. Lily had apparently picked up on Angel's indecision even up to the time when he left the hotel to make his way through the sewers to Dinza's lair.

Without further information there was little they could do in the way of planning. Tara and Willow had tried another location spell in hopes of finding Lorne but it had proved as futile as the one to find Spike. Now, they, Lily and Wesley were poring over Angel Investigations' meagre library in hopes of finding a spell that worked in a different way. Lori had taken up position at Cordy's PC and was trying to follow up from the hospital leads that Willow had found.

As for the others, all they could do was wait for Angel's return.

Buffy slipped a couple of painkillers from her purse and managed to wash them down with some coke without attracting any attention. The headache had been bad enough on its own. Then, just as it was easing off, the other pains started. Nothing so far had come near to a repeat of the previous evening, but then, so far, Buffy hadn't dared to repeat her experimental meditation, either.

She kept reminding herself that pain was good. Pain meant that he was still alive. She'd put up with a lot more discomfort if it meant that she knew that one thing.

 
Chapter 1:09
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.09
Sunday, May 12th, 2002

Spike twisted his body and turned his head so he could see under his arm. The approaching footfalls caused a surge of adrenaline through his system even after more than a century. However, it was no longer a thrill of pleasure that flooded his being at Drusilla's approach, but a useless fight or flight impulse.

Some time earlier Lorne had finally succumbed to a bone-deep weariness and curled up on the room's only bed. For a short time, he had managed to keep up his end of the conversation from a horizontal position, but slumber had eventually claimed him, much against his will.

The door to the room opened, and the battle of wills began.

"Hello, precious." Spike started off the conversation with a note of false gaiety. "You know, pet, you could have skipped all the crossbows and chains. If you wanted to get the chip out, all you had to do was hand me an appointment card."

Drusilla swayed her way over to a hi-fi in one corner of the room, ignoring Spike for the moment. She selected a CD and turned it on, cranking up the volume so that Lorne was startled from his sleep.

"Now, pet," Spike chided. "You've gone and woken our guest, and I don't think German industrial's his cup of tea."

Dru's head swivelled toward Spike as if she were noticing him for the first time. "You didn't tell me we had guests."

"I thought you would find him difficult to miss, considering the suit. I'm afraid to do the proper formal introductions I would need to be rather more mobile." Spike raised an eyebrow and a manacled wrist in a hopeful manner.

Dru merely tutted softly and then clapped her hands together twice. It seemed that this was some pre-arranged signal, for half a dozen burly guard types came into the room. Four of the men took up positions near the room's four corners, training their crossbows on him, while the remaining two undid the chains that bound him.

As they did so, another figure appeared in the doorway. As if Spike's thoughts of escape were written clearly across his face, the newcomer cautioned him. "I wouldn't. This time they're not aiming low. You can't keep Dru happy if you're dust."

"I've got news for you, mate. You can't keep Dru happy. She's off her rocker, and it don't matter what the hell you do for her, she'll find something to cry over. Won't you, love?"

As if on cue, Dru began to make the humming sound that preceded an all out tantrum. She stamped her heels, even as the two guards jerked the chains attached to his wrists, pulling him into a roughly cruciform pose, and then dragging him to one end of the four-poster bed.

While this was going on, Lorne pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed. He gave the man in the doorway a cool glance.

"Well, now I know where to send the thank you note for the helicopter ride. I'd like to say it's good to see you again, Lindsey, but we both know that I'd be lying."

"Gee, you save a guy's life, and that's all the thanks you get."

"Well, hey, just drop me off in LA and let me know your address here, and I'll make sure you get a fruit basket," Lorne replied in his bitchiest voice.

"I'd be careful what you say. You used to manage impartial, but if you can't manage to stay civil, I'm sure that Dru wouldn't mind having both you boys to play with," Lindsey suggested.

"Oh yes!" Dru's moaning stopped, her face visibly brightening. "Mummy would like that very much." She clapped her hands in excitement, as the two guards attached Spike's chains to the top of the bed frame. The chains were fixed so that if he stood, he could drop his arms to a horizontal position, but in order to rest his legs by sitting on or even leaning against the framework at the bottom of the bed, his arms would almost be pulled from their sockets.

"But only if he's rude, Dru."

Spike snorted. "God forbid that anybody should forget the proper torture etiquette."

"Down, Spike. Bad dog," Dru scolded.

"Yeah, or you'll do what, pet? Torture me more?" Spike drawled.

"That's about the size of it," Lindsey responded for her. "But don't let it stop you."

Dru opened up a wooden chest that sat off to one side and pulled out what looked like a normal spray bottle for watering plants. It was a normal spray bottle for watering plants. Spike's problem was that he would bet it was full of holy water, and he suspected that he was about to become a plant substitute.

"Does that mean we have to listen to more of this music?" Lorne asked.

"I'm sure you'll learn to appreciate it before she's done," Lindsey added as he signalled the guards to leave the room and followed them out, with just a few final words for his sire. "Dru, remember. Don't take off all the skin at once. You've got days to amuse yourself. You know if you have to resort to broken bones, you'll only have to push him round in a wheelchair again when we're finished."

"I'll remember, Lonesome. Are you going to fetch Daddy tonight?"

"We'll see, sweetness. We'll see."

"Take care, my turtle dove."

Dru wandered back to where Spike was chained up. She put down the spray momentarily and used both hands to rip open the front of Spike's shirt.

Spike smirked in response. "You really didn't want to do that, Dru. The slayer's gonna be right pissed off at somebody else ripping off the shirt she bought me. Reckons that's her job, she does."

"The nasty girl won't find my Spike. Not until he's ready."

"He's ready now, pet."

Dru picked up the spray bottle and matched the hissing noise it made with one of her own. "Tsss. Nasty white-hat. Hissing like a snake." Dru formed her free hand into a swaying snake's head, bringing it up until it snapped at Spike's face. All the time, that first squirt of water burned into the side of Spike's neck. It was such a fine mist that, as yet, his skin had not discoloured, but it stung worse than one of Buffy's spin kicks.

Spike gave Dru a big grin. "Pet. I really hope you've got some jasmine that needs watering, 'cause if lover boy told you that was holy water, he was lyin'."

Dru squirted the spray three times at close range, so that this time instead of a light mist a trail of water ran down his neck and pooled briefly at his collar bone before leaving a pink trail down his alabaster chest. Dru, however, was too busy watching Spike's laughing face to notice.

"Say, pet. How about you fetch some toothpaste and a toothbrush, and I can use that stuff to rinse?" Spike suggested.

"N-n-n-nno." Dru dissolved into despair. She squirted once more, this time onto her own hand, yelping and dropping the bottle when the mist burned her pale skin.

"What? Did it burn? Maybe it's just me? Maybe shaggin' the slayer's made me go all human again."

"Nasty doggy. We shan't play nice any more." Dru picked up the bottle again and stormed from the room.

"Did you really have to piss her off like that?" Lorne asked the vampire.

"And how else am I goin' to do it when I'm chained up like this? Speaking of which, I don't suppose there's any chance of you being able to get these off at all?

"Locks and chains, no. Not my scene."

"So, where do you stand, Lorne. Who was the greatest? Elvis or the Beatles?" Spike swiftly changed the subject as he heard Dru coming back toward the room.

Dru walked into the room, dragging a young girl about Dawn's age behind her. The girl looked like her clothes could use a good wash. Her mousy hair hung limply round an emaciated face that reminded Spike far too much of how the slayer had looked for the last couple of months. There was no way to know for sure, but Spike could read the signs. The kid had been living on the streets. No one would miss her, and if they did, the police would pay no attention until there was a body.

Behind her Scheherazade came through and set up a video camera on a tripod so that it was focused on Spike from in front and off to one side.

"Nasty Spike shall pay for hurting mommy. We'll make the nasty girl think my lovely boy is home, and then he'll have nowhere else to go." Dru muttered as she dragged the girl over in front of Spike.

"Really, pet. If you're planning on getting into the porn market, you really shouldn't put the only woman in the room that actually has a pair of tits behind the camera. It's mostly guys that hire these things, and they like to see something a bit bigger than a double A cup. I never said anything before, 'cause I never wanted to hurt your feelin's, and I know it's not your fault that the Poof turned you before you hit puberty b-" Spike's words were cut off as Dru's palm impacted full force with his face.

He ran his tongue along his teeth and spat a gobbet of blood onto the room's ice-blue carpet. "Does it hurt to know that all the time he was shaggin' you, he was imaginin' you were some fifteen year old boy? That he was wishing you had a dick he could wank off while he took you up the arse."

This time instead of slapping him, Dru pulled the girl to her feet and with one swift twist she snapped her neck, before either Lorne or Spike could even protest.

Lifting the body, she pressed it to Spike's chest. Morphing into demon form, she began to suck the warm delicious aromatic blood from one side of the girl's neck.

Spike knew what was expected of him. Many times in their long association, he and Dru had shared a victim, trapping him or her between their bodies in a macabre three-way embrace whilst they drained the life from the victim's body. Part of him, a large part, wanted nothing more than to return to that life, but the better part, the part that Buffy had managed to drag kicking and screaming into the metaphorical, if not literal, light of day, knew the price was too high to pay.

Pulling sharply on his chains, he used them to pull himself up and pivoted his hips swinging his leg into the side of Dru's head. She staggered slightly, and dropped the body, even as Scheherezade abandoned the camera and came to her aid, giving her a helping hand to get back upright.

Dru gave Spike an accusing stare. "You aren't playing the game by the rules."

"I never did, poodle. It's just that you used to be on the same side. As I recall, it was you who decided to terminate the arrangement," Spike reminded her, his voice almost gentle.

"You don't want to try that again," Sheherazade told Spike as she led Dru over to the bed, Lorne shifting to an armchair in order to maintain his distance.

"And if I think I do?" the blond asked.

"Then we keep bringing them in and snapping their necks until you pretend to play nice. Who knows? Maybe once you get a taste you'll remember what you're missing?" she taunted.

"Won't work. You want to make me responsible for a bunch of kids you brought up here to be your all you can eat buffet. You can't blackmail me by saying you're going to kill a bunch of people that you're going to kill anyway. Do I look stupid?"

"Actually, you look good enough to eat... or at least lick, but that's a conversation for when you're back to your evil self. He's got a point, though," his hostess drawled, looking over toward Dru. "Tell you what, we'll bring them up here, and they can stink up your little suite here with their sweaty unwashed bodies, and that way you can see that nobody's snacking on your little pets. At least, not till you're yourself again."

"You seem to think that it's a foregone conclusion." Spike gave a dry laugh. "Didn't anybody tell you I've got a tendency to buck the odds."

Scheherazade walked over to the door and called down the corridor to an unseen accomplice. "Bring the rest of the kids. They're moving in with Goldilocks."

Within minutes, half a dozen teenagers were herded into the room.

Scheherezade walked over to Spike and cupped his cheek in her palm. "There they are, Uncle Spikey. Your new pets. Now it's time for you to perform, or Grandma will start snapping their fragile little necks."

The vampiress turned to resume her position behind the camera. "Come on, Grandma, time for you to play with your little blond Ken doll."

"Goody." Dru wiped genteelly at a couple of blood dribbles. "Will my William be a good dolly now? He must mind his manners if he is to come to tea."

"I'll put on your little show, princess, but if you don't stick to your side of the agreement, when these chains come off, you'll wish you'd staked me."

Dru smiled at him in a way that would once have set his libido racing. She picked up the girl's body, holding it once more between herself and Spike. The blond let his demon come to the fore and ripped into the girl's neck, knowing that if his captors failed to get the shots they wanted, then they would use it as an excuse to claim another victim. He raised his head, his lips reddened with innocent human blood. His eyes met Lorne's across the room. The green demon rocked the youngest of the hostages in his arm, humming a comforting tune as the group watched Dru and Spike drain their friend's corpse. Before he could turn to see the looks of fear and disgust the other prisoners were giving him, Dru claimed his bloodstained lips with her own. Spike had no choice but to acquiesce to her demands.

 





Monday, May 13th, 2002

The staff of Angel Investigations, past and present, and the Sunnydale contingent all returned together to the Hyperion having stayed overnight at the same motel. Buffy had covered the bill from the money Spike had given her for the wedding. The way she looked at it, if they didn't all stay alive and get Spike back, she wouldn't have to worry about the wedding.

When they reached the Hyperion they found a package waiting for them.
 
Chapter 1:10
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.10
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Gunn was the first to speak after the television screen turned into a blur of white noise. "You can't be telling me you still think going after that animal is a rescue mission, 'cause in my book, I call that a 'seek and destroy'."

The group filled every corner of Wesley's apartment. Everyone was there except Dawn, who had been packed off on the ten past six flight for Sunnydale the previous evening. Angel had even compromised his dignity enough to undertake a quick run from one of the cars to Wesley's building under Spike's blanket. Of course, the fact that the hotel was bereft of not only a VCR but also a TV set, had pretty much forced the issue. Buffy had found herself close to tears as she watched the vampire stamp out the flames around the already scorched edges.

"Then buy a new book," Buffy retorted. "Rewind it Wesley."

"Buffy-" Angel began in a soft voice.

"Can the soft soap routine, Angel, I know him."

The tape clunked to a stop, and Wesley started to play it over.

"Are you sure? That looked an awful lot like the Spike I knew for twenty years. You swore blind to me last week that he wouldn't change if he got the chip out. I think we've got pretty conclusive proof here to the contrary."

"It's... it's not right. There's something. I know it looks bad... Tara, you've known Spike for years, now. Tell him." Buffy exhorted the witch to take her side.

"Buffy, I don't know. I don't think he would, but I never knew him before he got the chip. If they took the chip out, I can't say for sure."

"I'm sure."

Everyone's head swivelled toward Clem.

"See. It's not just me." Buffy clamoured for all the support she could get. "Tell them he just couldn't do that sort of thing any more."

"Oh, he could totally do it." Clem pronounced much to Angel's evident satisfaction. Willow and Tara looked toward Buffy, concerned as to how she would take this bit of news. "He just wouldn't. Not unless the alternative was something that would hurt Buffy more. Besides, I can't be the only one that thought the music was meant to be a message." The floppy eared demon swiped quickly at his cheek. "That song always makes me cry."

"Rammstein makes you cry?" Gunn asked, as most of the group turned to look at the floppy eared demon. Angel and Connor, however, were listening to the tape with renewed attention.

"So?" asked the teenager. "Somebody's humming in the background. You can hear somebody crying, too? It doesn't make a difference to what you can see. The demon helped kill the girl, even if he didn't kill her himself."

"Is Robin Hood song," Lily offered by way of clarification or those whose hearing was not as sensitive as that of her son. She extracted a neatly folded, cotton handkerchief from her purse and passed it to Clem.

"Aahhh!" Willow vocalised the relief that most of the Sunnydale crowd now felt.

"I knew it sounded vaguely familiar," Angel said looking slightly confused at the way everyone else except Connor seemed to now be disregarding the evidence of Spike's perfidy. "...And, obviously, I know it's Lorne... Is there something I'm not getting?"

Gunn shook his head softly. "Man, you really did let entire decades of pop culture pass you by. Not, in this case, that most of us wouldn't want to." He looked across to where Lori, Clem and Lily were squashed up on the sofa, the floppy-eared demon gently dabbing the tears from his eyes. "And can I just say, that you have to be the sorriest excuse for a demon that I have ever met."

"I spent five years in a hell dimension an' even that wasn't enough to let me forget that one." Fred put in.

Angel still looked blank. "What? I never saw the film. Robin Hood was just a bunch of English propaganda, and half the actors were American anyway. Cuchulain's far more interesting."

"Not that our Irish friend would be biased, of course," Wesley commented dryly. "I believe that Clem's point is that the words of the song's refrain are something along the line of 'Everything I do, I do it for you', meaning Lorne, assuming it is he, was trying to let us know, that Spike was under duress."

"Duress or not, he still killed the girl," Gunn commented. "I don't care what they threatened to do to his bony white hide. He ain't walkin' away from that with no free pass."

"'Cept if she'd been alive, that neck wound woulda been pourin' with blood round about now." Fred pointed at the screen as Spike lifted his head. "I'm guessin' she was dead before they even started filmin'. They just want us all to think he's killin' again."

"Well, thanks to Clem, we know better, so maybe we can get back to our original plans for this morning," Willow suggested.

 




 

"Bryan 'bloody' Adams. That was the best you could come up with?" Spike looked at Lorne through the one eye that would actually open.

"And what would you have suggested?" Lorne asked, as he tried to sponge off he dried blood from Spike's face and neck.

Spike fish-mouthed a couple of times. "Not the point, mate. That could end up bein' the last record that I even existed an' you're hummin' bloody Bryan Adams, and for whose benefit? A cultural retard an' a kid that hasn't even been in this dimension a month. It's not like any of the ones who would recognise it, could have heard you."

"So you think our hosts'll get what they wanted?" Lorne asked.

"Dunno. Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Just leave that bit alone." Spike pulled as far back as his chains would allow. "We had a bust up last night, 'cause she didn't want to believe what a rotten shit her ex was. Least, not on my say so. Don't know whether that means she just doesn't want to think the worst of anyone, or whether she just doesn't trust me." Spike let his head hang forward.

It was all too easy to remember Buffy's words. "That's all it is to you, isn't it? Just another body! ...You don't have a soul. There is nothing good or clean in you. You are dead inside. You can't feel anything real."

He tried to remember instead all the memories of the past week or so, of how she had claimed him, but the poisonous words from that alley by the police station just wouldn't leave his mind. Now, Buffy had Technicolor footage and another body to back her words.

Lorne looked at the mass of raw flesh. He was almost sure he could see Spike's collar bone through the scorched flesh. Once the video session was over, Dru had resumed her earlier games, seemingly intent both on getting Spike to renounce his feelings for Buffy, and to obliterate all physical signs of Buffy's claim. His shirt had been first to go, Dru taking satisfaction in ripping the rich material, that Buffy had chosen, from his body. It was to the same end that she had positioned a folded washcloth at the base of his neck and poured holy water on it. She left the moist cloth against his skin for hours, using a pair of tongs to lift it every so often. At first, it was to check whether Buffy's teeth marks were still visible. Later, she merely probed the open wound as she asked Spike whose dog he was.

The right side of his chest and back were covered with pink runnels where the holy water had run down his body, thanks to his upright position. Lorne knew, however, that the worst of the clean up was yet to come.

"I can leave that, puddin', but those jeans are going to have to come off," Lorne announced. As the water had run down, it had soaked into the material of Spike's jeans, burning the flesh underneath. If the jeans weren't removed they would continue to fuse to his flesh as he healed.

Spike grimaced. "Do it quick, mate." Lorne knelt before the blond vampire, fumbling with the fastenings of the skin-tight denim. Under normal circumstances, Spike would have made a joke about their compromising position, but for once his humour failed him. He'd used up all his best efforts to taunt Dru and show his defiance over the course of the afternoon, evening and night.

Once the fastenings were undone, Lorne grabbed a handful of cotton at the sides where the material was dry, and quickly yanked the jeans down. Spike couldn't hold back a short-lived scream before he lost consciousness, to hang limply from his chains.

Lorne silently worked to stem the fresh flow of blood, and once he had done that, he pulled a sheet from the bed. He tried, only partially successfully, to drape it over and around Spike's slumped figure, to allow him some semblance of modesty.

The teenager, who Lorne had earlier tried to comfort, watched as he ministered tenderly to Spike's wounds, even as he stepped over the body that still lay on the carpet near Spike's feet.

"Why'd you do that for him? He deserves everything he gets. He's a monster."

"But he's a monster who's trying to be a good man." Lorne turned to look the teenager square in the eye. "And he's a monster who, at least for a while, managed to buy the safety of half a dozen kids."

 




 

Spike came awake the next morning to the sound of Lorne humming to himself as he checked over Spike's wounds. The human blood that he had consumed over the last day was enough to start the healing process. In fact, his healing had progressed better than Spike would have expected, but so much flesh had been eaten away by the sustained application of holy water that it would take weeks of steady nourishment before the wounds were totally healed.

His arms burned, from the strain of supporting his body's dead weight, and he stood up trying to ease the ache slightly. He looked down at the sheet draped around his slight frame and smiled his thanks to the anagogic demon.

"How long was I out?"

Lorne shrugged. "Can't say for sure. After they brought the kids in, they started locking the door. Figure our hostess isn't so sure that all her guards will use force on a bunch of kids if they get out. I suspect that most of the ones on duty through the day are still human, in the broadest possible terms. My guess is it's about mid-morning."

"Prob'ly gives us another couple of hours before princess gets back to work."

"Couldn't you just pretend to give her what she wants?"

Spike shook his head slightly. "Would work for all of about two minutes. She'd either do a readin' or somethin' or she'd just straight out try and make her own claim. Even if it wasn't for Buffy, 'd be damned if I'd let her do that now. Was never good enough for her when we were together. Buggered if I'm goin' to play along with some nutty bint just because she doesn't want somebody else to have me."

Lorne sighed. "But how long can you keep taking all this punishment?"

"Till she gets bored."

"And what happens then?"

"She either gives up... or she finally stakes me," Spike said with a wry smile.

 




 

Dru arrived with a cavalcade of followers when she finally made her entrance. The group spread out around a man that neither Lorne nor Spike had seen previously. As best Spike could tell, the man, who knelt next to the room's fireplace, was human, which would normally have made Spike wonder why he was being treated with such deference by the vampires. What gave it away was the plastic baggy filled with dried flowers and the large crystal that the man carried.

The man pulled a couple of large sprigs of the dried flowers from the bag and held a lighter under the flowers. Spike's skin where there were still hairs to stand on end began to prickle at the magic that filled the air as the warlock began to chant.

"For William, fair one, this I char.
Let Lethe's Bramble do its chore.
Purge his mind of memories grim,
Of pains from his sire's slights and sins.
Let dead love be now reborn,
Take Drusilla's wicked form."

Spike began to panic. He struggled ineffectually in his chains; his efforts merely reopening partially healed wounds. He watched the man hold a large crystal in the flames that rose from the burning flowers, completing the casting.

"When the fire goes out, when the crystal turns black, the spell will be cast.

Tabula rasa, tabula rasa, tabula rasa."
 
Chapter 1:11
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.11
Monday, May 13th, 2002

"You're telling me you went to see this demi-goddess, and all she gave you was the address to some freaky bookstore."

"Actually, all she told me was that the answer was already within my grasp," Angel answered Buffy's question.

"And you made the intuitive leap from there to bookstore how?" the petite blonde interrogated her ex. "Since it's the only lead we've got, I'd kinda like to at least know how we got there."

Angel looked slightly sheepish. "I kinda beat up this snitch for information the other night. He gave me this guy's business card. It was still in my pocket. I guess I was kinda fidgety."

"You mean you had it in your hand?" Buffy asked incredulously.

Angel nodded and looked slightly embarrassed.

He pulled the plastic card from his pocket and passed it over to Buffy.

The slayer took the card and read the inscription. "Benjamin Holliday. Dealer in rare books and artefacts. Ooh, the nice end of the strip," she said sarcastically.

"So is he supposed to be something to do with Drusilla, or are we just supposed to be able to find what we need to get round the wards?" Willow asked.

"Do I look like the Delphic oracle?" Angel asked. "All I know is that a guy who could have been Groo went to see him about finding a way to another plane. And he looks human."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "He looks human, but he's.?"

"A demon."

"Hell-o-o-o? What're we talking here? There are quite a few demons that look human, but they don't all stay down if you stick a stake through their heart. It could be kinda important," Buffy commented in an exasperated tone.

"That's all I know."

"Tara, Willow, Wes, if we're looking for some spell or something, you three had best come with for the magicky-ness. Wes, you're our designated driver. Lily, Clem, either of you know anything about rare books and artefacts?"

"Little," answered Lily, "but Holliday, I know."

"Okay, Gunn, looks like we're going to need you to drive. Lily, Clem, Wes you're with me. Willow, Tara you ride with Gunn. Lori keep on with the computer stuff. Connor, Fred, your call whether you want to stay or go." Buffy turned toward the door, but Lily gripped her shoulder to hold her back. The diminutive demon then crossed to the weapons cabinet and unerringly selected the most finely crafted broadsword.

"Use this," she said passing it to the slayer.

"I'm guessing you don't like this guy Holliday," Buffy commented dryly.

"I knowing you no like Holliday. William no like Holliday." With that Lily headed out toward the car, leaving a confused Buffy to half-run to keep up.

"What do you mean, me and Spike don't like Holliday? I don't know any Holliday."

Gunn grabbed his axe and passed a narrow-bladed longsword to Fred before ushering her and the witches toward the hotel's back door. Wes grabbed another axe before following on, with Clem and Connor trailing at the back.

Angel looked out through the main doors at the street bathed in brilliant sunshine. "Why does everybody always take my favourite sword. And they couldn't wait a few hours?"

Lori looked up from where she was poised behind the computer for a few seconds before she decided that not only did he not really want an answer, he'd forgotten she was there. At least she hoped he had, because if he normally spent that long checking he didn't have "blanket" hair when there were other people around then he was seriously strange.

 




 

Spike strained against his chains, desperate to escape but as the last bud of Lethe's bramble was consumed by the flame, he slumped again.

"It is done. He'll be out for a couple of hours. When he comes to, he shouldn't remember anything that caused your break up."

The mage took a length of silver wire, winding it in a spiral around the black crystal, so that one end formed a loop through which he passed a leather thong, giving the piece the look of a pendant that could be purchased in almost any New Age shop. He dangled the necklace in front of Lindsey. The former lawyer pulled a cheque from the inside pocket of his suit and the pair made the exchange. Lindsey passed the necklace over to Drusilla, who hung it around her neck with a near orgasmic smile.

The mage picked up his remaining accoutrements and left the room with one of the guards. Another guard produced a set of keys from his pocket and released Spike from his chains.

Drusilla was there to catch him before he could sag to the ground. She carried him from the room without a backward glance.

Lorne almost automatically found himself standing between the kids as he thought of them and the remaining vampires, and silently cursed himself for spending too much time hanging around with all these heroic types. Darned if they weren't starting to rub off.

Unfortunately, Scheherazade seemed to have noticed his movement. His hostess gave an almost feral smile as she walked up and stroked his cheek. "Aren't you playing the manly man, today? Don't worry. No need to go all Pappa Bear... yet. We made a deal. They're under his protection, until he says they're not. But then, I would expect that to be pretty much as soon as he wakes up.

Personally, I can't wait. I hear he used to be a real demon's demon, before he went soft.

Though, if you keep up the macho act, I might just be tempted to wait for Stockholm Syndrome to set in. I think I might like that.

I wonder what you would be prepared to do for our little strays." She brushed against him so softly as she leaned in to whisper in his ear that Lorne would have thought it was an accident, if he didn't know by now that everything the woman did was deliberate. "Something tells me that you're more of a lover than a fighter. but maybe we'll get a chance to put the theory to the test."

She turned and gave Lorne ample opportunity to appreciate her rear view as she made her way to the door where she was the last to leave. "Technically, dinner shouldn't count, since it's on me, but I guess we'll have to make do. Someone will come by to collect you at nine. We picked up some of your clothes from Angel's place. One of the guys will bring them up in a bit. In the meantime I suggest you make use of the en suite to freshen up. You wouldn't want to disappoint me. Would you?"

 




 

Spike winced as he turned over in his sleep. Drusilla rolled over next to him, draping her arm carefully along his naked side, so as not to brush against any of the areas where scars marred his flesh.

She smiled contentedly to herself. Her darling boy was home again, at last. She had been so alone for so long. Even the last year she had spent with Spike, he had already belonged to the slayer.

Daddy had said she didn't need her knight, that he would be there, but Daddy lied. Again.

Her sweet William never came back after that. His smile never reached the ocean any more. Sad William never wanted to love her. He was a caged bird and in the end she'd been forced to set him free.

Now she could be his princess, his kitten, his goddess or just his. She didn't ever have to be alone again. She inhaled deeply, savouring his scent like a familiar and cherished caress. She decided they would move again. They would go home to Europe. The fairies no longer danced round her boy, taunting her with his love for a mortal. They could leave tonight. He would never see Her again. Never fall in love with Her.

He would be hers forever. And they would both be happy. They would dance together through the capitals of Europe, and when his slayer lay dead beneath the ground, he wouldn't mourn. He wouldn't cry for Her broken body. He wouldn't waste his time trying to be true to a pile of bones long gone. He wouldn't wither away living in his own isolated world, unable to leave Her resting-place unattended, but never truly accepted by either humans or demons. He wouldn't be lonely.

When She lay beneath the ground, then it would be safe to come back, and they would dance together on Her grave, just like he promised.

Drusilla drifted back to sleep, feeling loved and protected, feeling secure, for the first time in almost half a decade.

 




 

 The two cars pulled up on a bit of waste ground on the same block as the book-store and Buffy made her way over to Angel's convertible along with Wesley to speak to the Angel investigations crowd.

"Okay, you guys want to find out about what went down with Cordy's possibly former honey, so we're going to do it like this. Wes has one of our phones and he's going to keep a line open between him and Clem, so Clem'll be able to hear what's going on.

We can't risk Holliday seeing anyone from Sunnydale, but we'll follow on with the weapons. It's up to you four to see what you can get out of the guy before we come in, which we'll do as soon as Wes gives us the signal or we hear fighting. Wes can warn you what to look out for if he does start a fight, though until he sees us, there's no real reason that he should.

Willow, Tara, when we go in, I want you to do that barrier spell you did at the gas station. I don't want this guy to have any way out. If you can do it from outside, that's even better. Things might get a little cramped in there with four of us swinging swords and axes. The guy's a total pack-rat."

Willow took in Buffy's earnest expression as the slayer watched Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Connor make their way down the street.

"I'm guessin' from the 'destroy all monsters' approach that you think this guy is something to do with Spike's disappearing act?" the redhead asked, giving her friend a questioning look.

Buffy shrugged. "Nope. At least not that I know about. We've just got unfinished business." Judging that Wes's group had a big enough head start, Buffy gathered her people together, sharing out the weapons between them.

"Time to go, people." She took a determined step forward and then hesitated turning to Clem and Lily. "Em, you guys don't mind being called people, do you? It's not some sort of massive insult or something?"

"Only if you meant it to be," Clem answered. "Of course, calling mom a guy, now, that's an insult."

 




 

The gentle brush of Drusilla's fingertips along his arm brought Spike back to consciousness. He lay there for a second or two revelling in her tenderness before he rolled to face her, discovering his injuries as he moved.

He flinched and shifted slightly to accommodate the more tender areas.

"How's my darling boy?" Dru pushed a soft curl back from Spike's forehead.

"Been worse," he said, though he couldn't honestly think it when that might have been. "What about you, princess? Did your cure work? Are you strong again?"

Spike felt an almost physical surge of warmth through his entire body at the smile Drusilla gave him by way of reply. "I'm all better again. My Spike made me well. Shall I show you?" A cool hand reached to cup Spike's balls, and he jumped backward.

"Tell you what, pet. Why don't we wait till I grow some skin back down there." Spike looked around the room. "Not that it isn't an improvement, but what happened to our old digs? And where are we?"

"My boy went all away, and I was all alone," Dru replied.

Spike sighed. He walked over to the room's wardrobe, automatically checking for his clothes in the left-hand side. Everything was new. Still creased where they had been unpacked from the cellophane.

He took a pair of stiff black canvas jeans from a hanger pulling off the tags. He wondered what had happened to his soft, faded denim jeans. These new ones were going to rub him raw.

He decided to forego a T-shirt, and skipped straight to the red button-down shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. He strode to the room's door, yanking it open.

"Alright, people," he called out. "Who's in charge here? Hell-o-o-o?"

"That depends..." came a drawl from the living room.

"On what?" Spike asked as he came to the head of the stairway down into the open-plan reception room.

"On what it is you're lookin' for the boss of," Lindsey replied. He raised a crystal whisky glass in Spike's direction. "Join me?"

"That depends on who you are."

"You could say I'm your little brother."

"And you came on the scene when?" Spike asked.

"A few months back. You've been out of the loop for quite a while, but we don't need to fight over who's top dog."

Spike started his descent into the cabin's main room.

"And why's that?" Spike asked.

"'Cause sooner or later, you and Dru'll be heading off on your own and until then I can take a back seat."

"Okay, I'll bite. What do you want?"

"To stay young forever, know true love, and never have to worry about money again, but as the song goes two out of three ain't bad."

"Well, I'm guessin' that you're okay on the first and judgin' by the digs and the clothes I'd say the you're doing pretty well on the third and the second I don't think anyone can help with."

Lindsey rose as Spike reached the bottom of the stairs, moving to where a decanter and several crystal glasses rested on a silver salver. "This," he gestured around him, "isn't mine." He passed the freshly poured whisky to Spike. "But when all's said and done I'll be doin' pretty well. True love, well, I guess I missed my chance, so all that's left is cold, ugly revenge."

Spike took a swig of the well-aged spirit taking the time to savour its taste before he commented. "Why do I get the impression that we're negotiating here?"

"I've got resources here. I've got enough people to get pretty much anything I want done, done. I can live anywhere I want and I can get enough blood to keep me and mine without ever having to leave a corpse to bring trouble to my door. There's only one fly in the ointment when it comes to getting what I want."

"Enlighten me."

"Dru wants to put her family back together. I want to take Angel apart."

"I guess that means he didn't die, then?" Spike drawled.

"He's in LA. Set himself up as a Private Investigator and that little blonde slayer's in town to pay him a visit."

"Really? Now that is fun. You get your people in play. You can have Angel, but the slayer is mine."

"And Dru?" the American asked.

"Your people keep her out of the fight, and when it's all over I'll take her back to Europe."

Spike knocked back his remaining whisky in one mouthful and passed his glass back to Lindsey, before turning for the stairs.

"Better fetch your coat if you're plannin' on comin', mate."
 
Chapter 1:12
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.12
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Wesley was first through the bookstore's doors. Instantly, he was surrounded by the familiar slightly musty smell of old books and also by the less pleasant scent of cat's urine. Display cases lined the right hand wall, containing all sorts of curios, and the remainder of the shop seemed filled with waist-high stacks of books and papers. He made his way to the counter, while Fred, Gunn and Connor spread out as much as they could amongst the room's cramped shelves. The sound of the shop's bell drew the shop's proprietor from the back room behind the main shop.

"Good day, gentleman. and lady," the withered-looking old man amended his greeting as Fred straightened up from behind a stack of books whose titles she had been scanning. "How can I help you young people?"

It was difficult to believe that this apparently frail, slightly cross-eyed and myopic old man could represent the sort of threat that Buffy had warned him of. Wesley pulled a photograph from his pocket and placed it on the counter.

Cordelia and Groo smiled up at both of them. The photograph dated back to the vacation that the pair had shared. They looked happy. They looked like they belonged together. "Our friends are missing. We heard that possibly Groo might have contacted you about finding a way home." Wesley pointed to the smiling champion.

"Hmm." The man picked up the picture, taking off his glasses and holding the photo close to his face. "Hmm. Yes. He looked rather different. Not quite so cheerful, you might say." He replaced the image on the counter.

"So you remember him?" Wesley pressed for information.

"The lights may look dim, but that doesn't mean that there's nobody home. He wanted to go to some place called Pylea, that's right?" the man confirmed.

"There's a strong likelihood that that would be the case," Wes responded. "Did you help him get there?"

"Not yet. I advised him to take a vacation," the old man began to hunt through some stacks of books and papers until he found what he was looking for.

He pulled a glossy colour brochure from the midst of one of the stacks. He flipped it open at a page that was marked by a bright pink post-it note. "The book he needs comes up for auction in just over three months time. I told him, if he wanted, I'd be happy to act as an agent for him in the auction. In the meantime, I suggested that he should see some of the sights, round here."

"So Groo is still in this plane?"

"Can't say for sure. We never came to any definite arrangement. I think he was hoping he might find another copy somewhere else. The prices were running a little rich for his blood. Though your young friend there would be the one to speak to about that. The Destroyer's such a cruel nickname for a child to have to live with. Never mind."

"What sort of price are we talking about?" Wes asked.

"For the book? I'd say around twenty thousand. It's one of the cheaper pieces, but it's ten thousand just to get through the door on the day. Discourages the looky-loos, you see."

"I'm guessing that this isn't your run of the mill book sale, then?"

"No, by no means." The demon flipped the brochure shut. "Some of the items are priceless, though, of course, since we are talking about an auction, one shouldn't take the word literally."

 




 

Buffy, Willow, Tara, Clem and Lily loitered in front of a shop window about thirty feet from the bookstore on the same side. Every few seconds, Buffy would throw a hopeful glance at Clem, who had an earpiece firmly inserted under one floppy ear. The demon was relaying the conversation between the pair inside the shop. The remainder of her time was spent pacing back and forth.

"Maybe we should just go in now?" she suggested.

"Patience. You and William too the same," Lily chided.

 




 

"But as far as you know, Groo was likely to be in this dimension for another few months?"

"It certainly seemed so. That's not the sort of book you find in the local library, you know."

Wes was grateful that the old man didn't realise just how wrong his last comment was, otherwise he was sure that the volume would rather rapidly go missing. "Well, in that case we may be looking at a different problem. We haven't had any luck using any of the standard location spells. We had thought it might be because he had already travelled to another plane, but it may be that his location is being warded to prevent magical detection."

"Let's see." The old man wandered out from behind the counter and into the main shop. The man paused near Fred, bending to scan titles on one of the lower shelves. "Heillige's Counterspells and Enchantments." He pulled a fairly hefty leather-bound volume from the middle of the stack. "That should have what you need, though you may need to try a few different spells before you find one that works. There's quite a few different ways that these wards work and they all have to be countered differently."

"How much is it?"

The old man pulled a strip of paper from between the pages of the volume and checked that the title and edition matched before he quoted the price to the Englishman. "It's a hundred and twenty bucks, but if you want to bring it back after you've used it, then you can keep the receipt and I'll give you eighty bucks for it, provided it's still in the same condition."

When Wesley made no demurral the old man carried the book to the counter and set it down, beginning to wrap it up with a double layer of thick brown paper and twine.

"And if he has found another way to leave this dimension?"

"Then, I suspect he'll probably stay lost." The old man pointed at the brochure's cover. "That," he said, "is the only way I know of to find something or someone who's lost in another dimension. And I expect it to go for a considerable sum."

"What is it?" Wesley asked.

"That, is the Axis of Pythia. It's also conservatively valued at thirty-three million dollars."

"In that case, we'd best hope that our friend's location is merely warded."

"If I were you, I would certainly hope so," The aged demon confirmed.

"Well, I suppose I'd best just pay you for the book and that will conclude our business." Wesley reached for his wallet. "I'm afraid I've only got fifty in cash. Will you take a personal cheque?"

 




 

"Whoa, Wes is done. We can go," Clem announced.

Buffy looked across to the two witches. "Ready?"

The two girls nodded and clasped hands to form a very small circle. Clem and Lily carried the weapons for those already in the shop, while Buffy carried only the broadsword she herself would use. She burst into the shop like a small tornado.

'Doc' immediately lashed out toward her with his tongue, and Buffy ducked underneath the strike, whilst simultaneously twisting her wrist so that the broadsword swept round in a circle that caused the last foot of the demon's tongue to drop to the floor.

Unwittingly, Buffy echoed Spike's words on the tower. "Can't a guy stay dead when you push him off a tower, these days?"

"And you would be in a position to talk?" the demon responded apparently unimpaired by his injury, even as he leapt toward the door that was only just beginning to shut behind Lily and Clem.

"Yeah, well, I just couldn't bear the thought that you were still walking around. Had to come back and do something about it."

"The feeling's mutual, I'm sure. What happened to your pet vampire by the way? I don't suppose he was fortuitous enough to land on, say, a nice wooden fence when he fell?" the demon taunted from atop a stack of books.

"Nope. He has gone missing, though. Good of you to help us out with that counterspell thing, though I guess Spike'll be disappointed at not getting a piece of your hide for himself. I think you might have pissed him off."

The demon leapt at Clem and Lily who dove to either side out of his way. From his position on the floor Clem slid Gunn's axe toward him, so that he had only to stoop slightly to pick it up. 'Doc' pulled the door open, convinced that nothing now stood between him and freedom, only to collide sharply with a solid wall of fresh air.

The demon found himself cornered with Buffy approaching from one flank, Gunn on the other and Connor taking the same approach, leaping from stack to stack, that the demon had taken himself.

"Can't we just let bygones be bygones?" the demon with the face of an old man suggested.

Buffy shook her head slightly. "Even if we could, which, seeing as how you tried to sacrifice my sister and turn this and every world into a living hell, is a big no, by the way, I don't really think that I want you using this pithy-thing to find out where your little hell-bitch ended up when she couldn't live in Ben any more."

The demon sighed. "Religious intolerance is such a waste of everybody's time and effort I've always thought."

"But sometimes it just feels so good," Buffy quipped.

"Are you two going to exchange witty repartee all day, or can we just kill him now?" Gunn asked.

"Well, either way suits me." Wes, having safely stowed away the book that they needed and reclaimed his axe from Lily, moved to join the others who formed a quarter circle around the demon at the shop's door.

The demon made a last desperate bid for freedom, trying to knock Connor, the only one of his assailants that was unarmed, out of the way. However, the youngster was quicker than he anticipated managed to grab his arm and swing him back into the area encircled by Buffy and the others. As the demon collided with the shop door, Buffy lunged and pierced his heart from behind.

 

As she expected the demon fell to the floor, and his strange blue blood began to pool around him. She had to admit that it was convincing. She nodded to Wesley, who brought down his axe, severing the head from the body in a single stroke. He passed the axe to Buffy and picked up the demon's head by the curly white hair. Buffy followed him through to the back of the shop. It seemed that even spring in California was too cold for the blue-blooded demon, for just like in his old apartment a coal fire burned in the old-fashioned tile fireplace.

Wesley tossed the offending item into the flames. Buffy wasn't surprised when the head seemed to stir slightly as it burned, but she was glad that this time she was spared the sight of the shrivelling eyeballs and the silent scream. Events differed from how they had unfolded in Spike's nightmare in that the head had landed facing the back of the fireplace.

"I've never come across that particular species before. How did you know what to do to kill him?"

Buffy glanced over to the grim-faced ex-Watcher. She decided that the simplest explanation was probably best. "Spike told me."

As they made their way back through to the main shop Wesley's cell-phone began to ring.

 




 

Spike pulled his leather duster from the closet, noticing the light that shone through multiple holes in the back of it as he swung it round to put it on.

"For crying out loud, Dru. You could have at least got the coat fixed while I've been laid up."

Drusilla began to bluster and Spike rushed to apologise before the tears hit. He cupped her face between his hands.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm a nasty, evil, bad-tempered man. It's not your fault. C'mon, love. Finish getting dressed and we'll go out. We'll take you somewhere nice and you'll have a special treat."

"Can we go to Paris? I want to go in the boats on the Seine."

"We can go anywhere you want, my dark beauty, my moonlit rose." He used his hands to tilt her face toward his as he ducked his head to claim a kiss: a soft, tender, seemingly endless kiss that spoke of mutual devotion. When their lips finally parted they stood forehead to forehead, Spike's palms still resting gently against her cheeks. "Next week, we'll leave for France, but first there's a few loose ends to be tied up." His lips met hers again in a brief caress. "Okay?"

"Will Daddy come with us?" Dru asked.

"I don't know, pet." Spike's hands dropped to his sides. He didn't raise his voice, but there was a core of steel to it that hadn't been there before. 'With any luck,' he thought to himself, 'if he does, it'll be in a bloody urn.'

Spike held out Dru's coat for her, sliding his left arm around her waist and drawing her against his left side, he rested his cheek against hers. "C'mon, pet. I know just how to celebrate your return to health."

Lindsey, Drusilla and Spike waited for dusk in the cabin's small library. A phone call to Lindsey's informants had confirmed that the combined group seemed to be carrying on as normal during daylight hours, only seeming to worry about the possibility of attack or being observed after dusk. At present, it appeared that Angel and the unidentified female were alone in the hotel. All the others had gone to some junk shop downtown. Lindsey noted the number for the shop before he hung up the phone.

He dialled the number and waited for a reply. "It would seem that the staff are indisposed. I suppose we'll have to use the more direct route."

He pulled open the top drawer of the desk at which he sat and extracted the pad, which was normally kept at the hotel's reception desk. He flipped the pages until he found a list of cell phone numbers, and dialled the first one.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

"Wesley, I hope Mr Holliday was able to help you."

Wesley moved to the front of the shop and scanned the area for anyone who might be watching their movements.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

"Oh, I think you know. Tell the slayer if she isn't at the Hyperion with Angel an hour after dusk, then a lot of innocent people are going to get hurt unnecessarily. See you then."

Spike smiled as the phone slid back into the cradle, not noticing Drusilla's agitation at the mention of the slayer's name.

"It looks like we've got a date, princess. How about that?"
 
Chapter 1:13
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.13
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Spike couldn't help thinking that for a fledgling his new "brother" seemed to have a pretty good set up. He seemed to have more money than you could shake a stick at, and he seemed to have put down roots, but if it came down to it, Spike would rather have Dru on his arm than all the money in the world. He glanced over his shoulder to where Lindsey sat in the row of seats behind Dru and himself. Sometime before he and Dru packed their bags and left for Europe, he would have to get him good and drunk and find out what exactly the Poof had done to earn the guy's hatred, not that it would take much over and above his actual existence.

 




 

Buffy oversaw the final preparations for their visitors. Fred and Gunn had done the rounds of as many of the churches in the area as they could manage and still get back before dusk. They were currently filling several large water pistols. Angel had sent Clem off on some errand that seemed to be taking him quite some time, whatever it was.

Willow and Tara were scouring through the book they had brought from the bookstore looking for spells they could use and making a list of the necessary components.

Wesley and Buffy were checking over weapons, cleaning, sharpening and oiling. Who would have known that blue demon gunk would set like that?

Lori had taken a break from the computer, and she and Lily had gone to fetch take-out for everyone. Fred had slipped on in her place trying to see what she could find relating to the Axis of Pythia, though she found little that wasn't already in the catalogue description.

Angel hadn't been surprised to learn that the lowest common denominator when it came to linking all the hospitals had turned out to be Wolfram and Hart. What had surprised him was when Lori had pointed out that several abattoirs, also owned by clients of Wolfram and Hart, had recently purchased tanker lorries of the sort normally used for moving milk, fuel or grain. By Angel's way of thinking, he and Lilah were overdue for a little chat, but it would have to wait. It seemed that they might have a small army to confront in the not too distant future.

Angel was. Well, no one was exactly sure what Angel was doing, but he managed to look dour and pensive doing it.

Half an hour after dusk, the back door of the hotel banged open.

"Fear not, ladies," announced one of the two new arrivals. "The Xan-man is here, with clean laundry for all and a message from the youngest Summers to say take care and that she rescheduled your appointment for tonight to Thursday. And Fangless owes me for a speeding ticket when we get him back." Putting down the bag he carried Xander hugged the three women from Revello Drive in turn. "So, Buff, what's this big, secret appointment?"

"A big, secret none of your business," replied the slayer.

"I brought some things from the Magic Box, but it was mostly guesswork which ones to bring." Anya was surprised to be enfolded in Buffy's arms. "And this parcel came to the shop, but it's for you." She passed over a parcel the size of a large shoebox. "Xander thought it might contain some of Spike's body-parts, but it doesn't really sound wet enough. Though, I don't know. If you cut off a vampire's hand, does it turn to dust or does it stay squidgey?"

"Personally, I think I'll file that away under things I never want to find out," Buffy replied.

Nevertheless, she couldn't resist rattling the parcel to check Anya's supposition, before she used the shortsword she had been working on to slit the tape on the parcel. Opening the top of the box, she found layers of tissue paper, which she cautiously folded back. Underneath, she found shiny white leather and plastic sheathed steel blades. Ice skates. Hers had been in the basement last year when it flooded. By the time they dried out the leather had been ruined.

Trust Spike to remember.

Trust Spike to get straight to work on his promise to take her skating.

Trust Spike to land his butt in trouble trying to play the hero before he could make good on the promise.

It was the final straw. Buffy ran from the room.

Peering over her husband's shoulder to see what had upset Buffy so much, Anya looked puzzled. "It's not like it really was body parts," she commented. "Or bunnies," she added as an after thought.

 




 

Buffy chose a room at random to hide in, closing the door behind her so that it looked like every other empty room in the corridor. She didn't know how she could keep doing this. Her strength had pretty much run out after that last run in with Glory. She was running on empty, but she couldn't let anyone know. She went through to the room's small bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She didn't have time to spare for tears. And she couldn't face down the Bad Guys if she was all puffy-eyed.

She heard the sound of the room's main door being pushed open. She momentarily wondered how whoever had found her. Then, she saw that her visitor was Lily.

"I think it was Nietzsche who said that even the strongest among us will get fatigued at times." The demon sat down on the end of the bare bed.

"What happened to your accent?" Buffy asked, her own problems temporarily forgotten, as she took a seat next to the horned demon.

Lily shrugged. "Mostly lazy. Sometimes good to let people think you don't understand. Let them feel better. Then, they not so scared. Scared people do bad things. But some things you can't say with pigeon English."

Buffy nodded dumbly as it seeped through to her consciousness that this woman/demon was so much more than she let on.

"I not can promise William come home," Lily said. "But he too stubborn to give up and is possible I see little bit why." The woman stood up and to Buffy's surprise she placed a soft kiss on Buffy's forehead before she left the room. Buffy cast her mind back trying to recall exactly how that Kiss of Death thing went in all the Godfather films that Xander had tried to make her watch.

Buffy rose and made to follow Lily back to the reception area. She got halfway along the corridor when Willow came running up the stairs calling her name.

"I'm here, Will. What's the what?"

"Spike. We found a spell that fools the wards, or they warded the area where he's been. He's being moved. Fast. Buffy, it looks like they're bringing him here."

 




 

Spike had always liked a dramatic entrance. He did them well, and tonight was no exception. He could see the nervous little chit hovering by the hotel's front door watching as their driver opened their door for him. He offered Dru his hand so that she could get out of the limousine like the lady she was, swinging her legs round, knees locked tightly together until she stepped daintily onto the pavement, like a Royal Doulton figurine that had somehow come to pale and magnificent life. Just to give the bint something to watch, Spike ducked his head and kissed the back of Drusilla's red nailed hand.

He still held her hand as he drew himself erect and let loose his demon, only relinquishing it as he used both hands to push the main door of the hotel violently open. He strode into the reception as if he owned it.

"Alright, people," he roared, knowing the battle's half way over if you can intimidate the enemy before you start. "Those of you who aren't slayers or great self-important Poofs have one chance to get out of here alive, and that's to get the hell out of here before the fight starts. Fire one of those weapons or lay a finger on any one of us and the only way you're leaving this place is in a body bag."

Even as he spoke his body was reacting to the familiar scent. 'What the hell?' he asked himself. 'That's not supposed to happen till after I drain the bitch.'

The arrayed company of crossbow wielding humans looked unimpressed. Clem gave Spike a slightly nervous wave, which confused Spike not a little.

He decided to bluster it out. "Am I meant to know you or something? Don't tell me. You bought me a drink once, and you think that gets you waving privileges."

Something was seriously wrong here, and Spike didn't know what the hell it was. He'd come here ready to kill the bitch, and now missing skin not withstanding, every part of his body was telling him he was a damn-sight more interested in bending her over that bleedin' reception desk she was standing behind and takin' her like he hadn't had a woman in years. Maybe he hadn't, but Dru was the one he was supposed to feel like that about. Not some bloody chit of a girl that was lookin' at him as if he'd just broke her bloody heart. Except, she wasn't a girl any more. There was nothing girlish about the lines that her clothes barely concealed. And why was it that the look in those eyes made him want to sweep her into his arms and kiss her till cryin' was the last thing on her mind.

He caught the look on Angel's face as he saw Lonesome enter behind Dru. It was an intoxicating mix of guilt and almost but not quite fear.

"Lindsey?"

"Yeah," drawled Spike. "Seems you've got a fan. I mean, normally I'd like to take you down a peg or two myself, but seeing as my dance-card was all booked up, I told Junior he could play. But then, it wouldn't really be fair; big old vampire like you against one poor fledge, so he brought some of his mates."

Angel turned to Drusilla. "You turned a lawyer?"

This piece of news surprised Spike, who looked first at Drusilla who gave him an evil Cheshire cat smile, and then at Lonesome who merely raised an eyebrow in a gesture that looked much like one of his own.

"You do not want to fight her, William." It was Lily who broke the silence.

"And what would you know about it, you old hag?" Even as he said it Spike felt like he was a kid who'd been caught doing wrong by his nanny.

At this, Buffy laid down her crossbow and walked out from behind the reception desk. "She would know what you're feeling. She would know that you can't hurt one you've marked as being under your protection." Buffy pushed her hair away from the right side of her neck, baring the imprint of Spike's fangs for the world, her world, to see. All the time she spoke, she inexorably closed the gap between her and Spike, not intimidated by the fact he was still in game face, and as she approached, he emitted a warning growl that steadily rose in volume. "She would know that whatever's been done to you, you could no more stop loving someone than you could grow wings and fly." Buffy reached slowly out to cup Spike's cheek with her left hand, letting him see the familiar ring and take in its significance.

Under her gentle hand, Spike's features changed back to human form. Flesh to flesh, she could feel his confusion. His feelings for her remained unchanged, but his feelings for Dru were as strong as they had been that day he'd rolled into town drunk, stronger even. He felt guilty at his betrayal of his sire, of his race, and he had no idea how he'd come to feel this way about someone he knew only as the bane of his existence.

Spike pressed against the gentle caress. This woman was obviously his in ways that Dru had never been. She had let him mark her, a privilege Dru had reserved for Angelus. She wore his mother's engagement ring, and when she touched him, he could almost physically feel her love, her desire, her relief and her compassion. The demon within screamed one word at her touch. "Mate."

With a fierce possessiveness, his hand reached out to cup the back of her head and pull her in for a kiss. Buffy melted against him, but he noticed even as she did, she avoided pressing against the areas where his clothing hid painful burns, as if she knew they were there.

Buffy didn't care who was watching or what they might think. They had obviously done something to tamper with Spike's memories. His words to Lily and to Clem were proof of that. It seemed that Spike didn't remember what had happened to them before. Hell, with their history, that might turn out to be a blessing in disguise. It didn't matter. Nothing on God's green earth could change what they meant to each other.

Ignoring his wounds, Spike swept his mate into his arms and carried her toward the stairs. He was only vaguely aware of Angel making some sort of protest, to which he replied with a low warning growl and merely continued on his way. His part in the evening's entertainment was over as far as everyone but Buffy was concerned, and as long as it wasn't worrying Buffy, he didn't care what happened to the rest of them.
 
Chapter 1:14
 
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SECTION 1 - SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

(Pink Floyd)




Chapter 1.14
Monday, May 13th, 2002

"Em, guyyys?" Fred called from her vantage point by the door. "This Spike guy's meant to be some sort of hostage, right?"

"Right," confirmed Buffy from her position behind the desk.

"Then how come he's actin' like he's in charge?" Fred asked as she scuttled away from the doors.

"Huh?" Buffy asked, but the questioning went no further as Spike made his grand entrance.

Willow was experiencing some severe flashbacks. She was mentally thanking the hotel's architect for the fact he hadn't seen fit to have any windows big enough for Spike to come crashing through. This was most definitely not Buffy's Spike, the tamed wolf that they had all become so used to over the years. This was the wild, majestic predator that he had been when he first invaded Sunnydale.

Command seemed as natural to him as breathing. He held the attention of every person in the room, male or female, a phenomenal presence that, regardless of orientation, it was impossible to ignore. He cut down Clem with a casual disregard, as if he was of less import to him than the marble beneath his feet. The Wicca had rapidly learned that Lily commanded respect from all who knew her, yet Spike paid no such due.

'Because he doesn't know her.' The redhead was certain that Spike was under some sort of memory affecting spell. 'Now when I was doing that sort of thing, I wouldn't let the components out of my sight, just in case. So who would be the one holding Spike's leash? Who has most to gain from his selective amnesia?
Whoa! Enough with the "Officer and a Gentleman" routine. Buffy can't seriously be going to. Well, hey, who can blame her? It's not like we're in a helpless situation facing overwhelming odds, and she's the best fighter out of all of us.'
She watched as Dru pulled a stake from her coat pocket and launched herself toward Spike's back, unseen by either of the blonde pair.

A sideways glance showed Angel and Connor arrayed against Lindsey and ringed three-deep by the invading forces, though at present the combatants were still circling trying to find an advantage, or so it seemed. As yet, there had been no actual contact just an exchange of words. Ridiculously, Angel took time out from his own predicament to take exception at Spike's cavalier attitude to hospitality.

"Hey, Boy, where do you think you're going?"

Willow watched as Dru closed the distance between herself and Spike. It had to be Dru. At the very least there had to be a crystal, possibly even some more powerful focus for the spell, and Dru had to be the one who had it. Willow watched as the brunette moved closer. She let out a yell of warning, even though she knew it would be too late, and given the lip-lock the pair were indulging in, it would also probably go unnoticed. The couple remained oblivious to Drusilla's presence, and all the redhead could do now was hope that Clem's foray this afternoon would pay off.

Gunn, on the other hand, had a loaded crossbow. Even as the sanctuary spell caused Drusilla's blow to rebound mere inches from Spike's leather clad back; the former street-kid launched a bolt into her torso. The vampiress fell to the ground, reaching out as if to claw at Spike's legs. "She shan't have him. No-o-o. Spike's my boy. He loves me."

Those of the others who were armed with crossbows raised their weapons, firing on the vampires around Angel, Connor and Lindsey. Willow watched the distraught vampiress as she alternated between trying to pull out the arrow that was lodged in her back and pulling herself across the floor after Spike's retreating form. She noticed, for the first time, the dark pendant that rested between Dru's pale breasts.

'Surely it couldn't be that simple.'

Before she could wonder any further, Gunn's second shot hit home, this one passing cleanly through Drusilla's heart. For a second Willow saw only pain in her features, but just before her flesh turned to dust, it seemed as if there was a moment of tranquillity, as if she welcomed the end to her perpetual torment. Before she could be sure, Dru's calm face was dust and finally her bones crumbled to the floor.

Willow tried to scan the dust for traces of the crystal pendant, but this had been no high-enchantment, and she suspected that the crystal had turned to dust with its owner.

A keening wail echoed through the walls of the hotel, and Lindsey and his supporters scattered to the winds.

 




 

Xander watched as his worst nightmare came to life before his eyes. At least Deadboy Senior had had the decency to be ashamed of what he was. Spike not only revelled in it, he didn't give anyone the option of convincing themselves that his and Buffy's relationship was purely platonic. Not that Xander didn't know exactly what those scars on Buffy's neck meant. And with the naked push-ups... and he so didn't want to think about what Spike had been pushing up where.

Xander knew about claiming rituals. Witchcraft books weren't the only ones that came with engravings, and there had been some pretty graphic engravings in those Vampyr texts of Giles'. But what really made this his worst nightmare was that Spike and Buffy had been split up, and here he was doing his bit in what was essentially a battle to get them back together again. He watched as Spike carried Buffy off, just managing one better than dragging her upstairs like some Neanderthal. He couldn't believe that they were oblivious to the carnage that was breaking loose at their backs, literally.

Then, the first bolt flew, and Xander took it as his cue to start thinning the crowd of vampires around Angel, Connor and Lindsey. He grabbed the broadsword he'd swiped from the pile of weapons Buffy had been cleaning. He'd got there just in time, too. Angel had been about two paces behind him and had given him a dark glower as he eyed the weapon in Xander's hand before picking up a longsword. After all, Xander was the only one out of the two of them that was actually going to be fighting, what with the sanctuary spell and all.

Xander waded in wielding the sword with a strength that let him make rapid swings and thrusts, where normally the blade's own momentum would have limited his actions. Even if it hadn't been for the sanctuary spell, he wouldn't have needed to parry. He gave a huge, horizontal sweep of the blade cleaving the heads from two of the vampires that had ringed Angel's group before they even knew he was there. Boy, did this invulnerability thing have... three... its uses, just so long as the people... four... you were fighting didn't know how you came to have it.

Okay, when... five... he finally got Anya home she was definitely going... six... to do the Brigitte Nielson thing to his Conan. Maybe... seven... he should suggest to Buffy that they keep... "Hey, come back you cowards..." a couple of weapons at their place. Just so he could practice of course.

Okay, where the hell was that howling coming from? Jeez, it had to be Spike. That was kinda quick. So much for vampire stamina ...and no wonder they wanted the basement soundproofed if he made that din every time.

 




 

Spike's wailing lament was Angel's first intimation of Drusilla's passing. Up until then, he'd been too busy taunting Lindsey, trying to get him to fall foul of the sanctuary spell, whilst also trying to make sure that Xander didn't cut him or Connor with those wild swings he was making with that sword. He froze dead at the sound. It could only mean one thing, something he'd wanted and dreaded at the same time for over a century.

He headed for the stairs at a run. Whatever else he and Spike were, regardless of the differences between them, they were family. For now, that was all that was important.

They hadn't even made it to a room. They knelt facing each other in the third floor corridor. Buffy's hand brushed softly through the curls at the back of his head as she held him close. Angel couldn't help but think that the Buffy he'd known would have been petulant. She wouldn't have understood that a man could love two women at once. She certainly hadn't expected him to grieve when he staked Darla for her. Nevertheless, here she was offering Spike solace as he howled like a banshee over Drusilla.

Angel fell to his knees behind Spike, so that the younger vampire was held between him and Buffy, except Angel didn't know that a third of Spike's back was one massive burn.

The pain was enough to make Spike pull away, and Angel in turn took offence at Spike's apparent rejection until Spike's hand reached back to take his, and he finally ceased his unearthly wail.

Spike twisted his upper body so that his "good side" stayed glued to Buffy as he looked half-over his shoulder at Angel.

"Sorry, mate. Got a few tender patches that don't like bein' pressed on."

Buffy blew out an exasperated breath. "And I used to think he exaggerated everything. Here, it turns out he's a master of understatement."

Spike gave a sigh and loosed Angel's hand. "Don't matter what I am. We haven't got time for this. Not now."

"What's up?" Buffy asked, knowing that something had forced him to lay his grief to one side, if only temporarily.

"Well, when Dru died, the spell they had this guy do disappeared. You know how that goes. 'Bye-bye, Randy. Hello, Spike.' For a start, I've just remembered that those guys have got half a dozen kids not much older than Dawn stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and your green friend's up there with them. I'm guessing since I kind of burnt my bridges there that they won't exactly feel compelled to keep their word about not harming them."

Spike pulled a stake from his coat pocket and passed it to Buffy. "And the other thing you should know is that they took the chip out."

"I know, " Buffy replied, handing the piece of wood back to him blunt end first. "At least, I guessed from the headache you gave me for nearly a day. We can do the big heart to heart later. For now, just don't eat anybody and don't hurt Xander too bad, and I won't stake you.

I guess we better see if we can reach this cabin before they do. Do you think you could find your way back there?"

"In a helicopter? Sure. In a car? Not a hope in hell. In a four by four with a winch and the help of some detailed maps? Probably. But there's no way we can beat them back there. All we can really do is head out there and see what they left behind."

Buffy looked over to Angel. "You want to set your people to work sorting out vehicles and maps and stuff. It seems to me that we aren't going to be able to leave tonight. If Spike can pinpoint it on a map, we might be able to leave tomorrow morning. Unless you know someone with a helicopter or two that would lend you them and their pilots on no notice whatsoever."

Angel looked over at her. "Funny you should ask. 'cause."

"You're joking, right?" Buffy asked.

"More like guessing. I'd say chances are David Nabbit owns at least one helicopter."

Buffy sighed. "Lifestyles of the rich and famous. See what you can scare up. We'll be in." She stood up and pushed open the door to the nearest room. ".Here, when you're ready for us. And if you can send someone up with a first aid kit, that'd be good, too."

 




 

Buffy closed the door behind them and drew Spike over to the bed. She gently eased the weight of his duster from his shoulders and then undid his shirt, button by button, kissing her way down the centre of his chest as it was revealed. Both their actions were subdued, Spike's emotional pain a constant backdrop to their interaction.

She hissed as she realised that the shirt was stuck to his flesh at several points. "Spike, it's going to be better if we soak this off. Same with the jeans. I'm willing to bet you've got a wonderful layer of black lint stuck to your leg."

"Isn't that going to make them a bit awkward for puttin' back on, pet? Assumin', of course, that the Poof isn't all talk about his la-de-da mates." Spike reached up to brush a stray hair from Buffy's brow, his hand running through the pale strands as she tilted her head back and stood on tiptoe to give him another kiss.

She settled back on her heels before she answered. "Xander brought spare clothes for everybody."

"If you think I'm going to wear Xander's clown pants and Hawaiian shirt again, you've got another thing comin'." His lips came to rest against Buffy's neck, kissing a butterfly trail down to his claim mark where he lingered for seconds as Buffy's breath began to come in sharp gasps. Still their actions weren't rooted in their mutual passion, but in their need to give physical expression to their emotional ties.

"Spi-ike. They could come back any time, and you still have to get out of those clothes so we can see to those burns."

"Don't think you heard me complaining about the first bit." The sad smile that followed his words made Buffy reach to cup the side of his face, before she drew him toward the room's bathroom.

"We'll get you some of Angel's things if we have to, but I'm fairly certain since it was Dawn who did the packing that you'll have some of your own stuff."

"Should've said. Can trust the Niblet." Spike waited while Buffy fiddled with the bathroom fittings, to no effect.

A fact that was explained by Angel, when after knocking softly on the room's outer door, he entered a few seconds later carrying a large first aid kit, a bag with their clothes and some sheets.

"The water's been drained from most of the system. We could have a leak in one of these rooms for a month before we'd know the difference otherwise. We'd need to take off the bath panel to open it up.

Why don't you use my room? It's just down the hall."

Angel looked at the stains that marked Spike's shirt where it stuck to his body. "There's some salve for burns in the kit, but there's more in the bathroom cabinet in my room. You might want to grab it while you're there.

Fred got a hold of David Nabbit and he's got a crew getting a helicopter fuelled and ready, but the pilot's off duty and so far he's not answering his pages, and then we have to hope he hasn't been drinking when they do track him down. I'll make sure someone calls through to your room when we're ready to leave. In the meantime, Willow and her friend are trying out that location spell to see if they can pick up Lorne, so at least we'll know if they move him.

And, Buffy, try to make sure he doesn't wander round the hotel nude. The last thing we want is Gunn after what's left of his hide for flashing his girlfriend."

He urged the couple toward the door. "Go on. I'll make up the bed while you're doing that, and if you call down to the desk when you get to the patching him up stage, I'll bring some blood up."

It went against years of ingrained habit, but Spike knew that Angel was doing everything he could to make them feel welcome, and Spike felt some acknowledgement was needed. Buffy was drawn to a stop, refusing to relinquish the grip she had on his hand as he paused in the doorway. Even now, Spike still couldn't bring himself to use Angel's chosen name so he stuck with the slightly yobbish greeting. "Hoi."

Angel looked up from where he had already started making the bed. Spike gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, mate."

Angel smiled in return. Cordy had been right about Spike. He had changed. Maybe it had taken a tragedy for the pair of them to cut through all the. How had she put it? The "macho vampire crap". That didn't mean they couldn't work from here.

Buffy and Spike lingered over the task of soaking off his clothes, both of them ending up soaked before they were done. They exchanged unhurried kisses and gentle caresses under the shower's tepid spray. Finally, when they were both washed up to her satisfaction, Buffy scooped up their wet clothes and the ointment Angel had mentioned from the bathroom cabinet, and they both made their way back to their own room.

Buffy called down to the main desk to let Angel know they were finished in the bathroom, and minutes later he appeared with a mug of blood.

He noticed Buffy had been careful to make sure that Spike lay on his side with his back to the door and a towel draped over the central part of his anatomy. This in spite of the fact that the scarring above and below indicated that the burns probably ran from his shoulder as far down as mid thigh.

Angel simply slipped the mug onto a dresser that sat conveniently near the door. "Make sure he drinks that," he told Buffy before shutting the door and leaving them alone.

Buffy paused in what she was doing long enough to pick up the mug and carry it over to Spike, She pulled the towel aside and continued to rub in the salve, occasionally pausing to kiss the unmarred side of his back as she worked with gentle hands.

She looked up as Spike made a sputtering sound, almost choking on the first mouthful from the mug.

"What's up? Cold?" Buffy asked.

Spike waited till his cough had died down a little before he replied. "You could say that. Least room temperature. 'S his. Stupid bugger's gone and tapped a vein."

"Will it help you heal quicker?"

"Yeah, but. He didn't have to," Spike protested.

Buffy snuggled as close to his back as she could without pressing on his wounds, her arm resting against his side. "That's probably why he did." She kissed him high up on the side of his neck before scooting backwards off the bed.

Approaching from the other side she began to apply the salve to the burns on his front.

"If this thing does end up in a fight, we need you as healthy as possible."

Spike looked at her through dark lashes. "I don't think that's why he did it, pet."

"Neither do I. But it's one reason to drink it that you can't quibble about." She leant in to place a kiss on the end of his nose. "Now, drink it all up or you can't have any dessert."

A shadow of Spike's normal grin flickered briefly across his face. "Promises, promises, love," he replied before he dipped his head to take another sip from the mug.

 
Chapter 2:01
 
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SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)




Chapter 2.01
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Lorne was, unsurprisingly enough, normally of the disposition to sing in the bath. Somehow, though, the idea of getting all dressed up for a date that he'd neither instigated nor agreed to was having a negative effect on his musical urges. It wasn't that she was an unattractive woman. He could think of a few mornings when he'd woken up with a decidedly less physically appealing female lying next to him.

If she'd walked into Caritas back in the day, who knows? Maybe he would have stood her a drink, got her to sing a little something and maybe they might have hit it off. No, it was this whole 'Do as I say or Something Might happen to those kids' thing that made him want to tuck tail, or other parts, and run. He just hoped that that whole aggressive thing was a front. Even with the best will in the world, Lorne couldn't see himself performing on demand with that hanging over him. Maybe in private she might display a softer side and give him something he could relate to.

The whole situation had him vacillating between outrage at being treated like some sort of whore, anxiety about her expectations, fear of what could happen to the kids if he didn't live up to them and curiosity as to what might have happened had they met under other circumstances. Was she even genuinely attracted to him or was she getting her kicks from her power over him? It wasn't like he could ask her to hum a few bars, was it?

Lorne gave a sigh and returned to getting washed up as quickly as possible, because sunken tub not withstanding, there was something about being naked when hostile strangers could walk in whenever they pleased that he found detracted from the whole luxury bathing experience.

It was probably this that had deterred any of the teenagers from making use of the bathroom for more than just a cursory wash. Either that or they thought he was a jolly, green paedophile, one of the two. Ugh. There was a thought he didn't want to take any further.

Just as he was at that point where he was stepping out of the tub but hadn't quite managed grab a towel, he heard the outer door of the room open. He grasped at the towel rail, one foot in the bath and one out, frantically trying to get covered up in case whoever it was decided to come in and make a nuisance of themselves.

Fortunately, it seemed that he wasn't about to be interrupted. He could make out the voice of the same convivial guard who had set him to work on Spike's care.

"Tell the frog prince that he's got ten minutes to get dressed and get you lot out into the living room. We're moving out."

Lorne yanked open the bathroom door, wearing nothing but a towel. "What's happening, sweet cheeks?" he asked the thug. "There's another two hours before I'm due to dine with her ladyship."

"Yeah? Well, ain't that a shame. Get a move on, Kermit," the guard barked.

 




 

Lorne made his way into the living room with the teenagers filing out behind him.

He surveyed the scene with some little amazement. Three or four people were scurrying back and forth laden with luggage. In the midst of it all, Scheherazade paused in what she was doing to watch Lorne and his troupe make their way downstairs.

"I guess things aren't going quite so well for our heroine as she was expecting." Despite his words Lorne deliberately kept his tone as conciliatory as he could. After all, it wasn't just his life he was playing with.

"You could say that." The woman gave a shrug that seemed inconsistent with her normally elegant bearing. "It seems there's been a minor setback. Certain plans are having to be put into operation somewhat sooner than we anticipated.

Look, there are a number of ways this little scenario can go. It depends not so much on you as on the kids as to which one we chose." She let her gaze pass over the group, meeting the eyes of each one in turn.

"Any of you that want to be on the next chopper out of here have one option. We've got enough narcotics here to fuck up each and every one of you.

The only way you're getting on that chopper is if you are so wasted that no one is going to believe a word you have to say. Of course, dumping you on the street in that sort of condition anything could happen to you before you're able to look after yourself.

Your other choice is that we set you loose to wander till you find your way to some sort of civilisation. Of course, that option has its drawbacks, too. Chances are you'll die of hunger or exposure before you find anywhere, but hey, a bunch of kids getting lost in the middle of nowhere. All the cops can tut away about these kids who come up in the mountains without proper footwear or equipment. When they eventually find the bodies, that is. If they ever do.

Lastly, you could choose to wait it out here. There's enough canned food and stuff up here to last you a month once the fresh stuff runs out. The water feed runs in from a natural reservoir so you should be okay there, providing you remember to boil it before you drink it. But that might be a problem. See, without someone topping up the generator, the electricity will go off in a matter of hours. You'll probably run out of gas cylinders after a couple of weeks. In theory, you could use firewood, but then, we'll be locking you in tight. So, I guess you'll just have to hope someone turns up before then. I'm guessing you'll be worrying about who to have for dinner before you need to worry about the septic tank. You just have to decide if you think anyone will come to find you before it gets to that stage.

Assuming you think anyone will miss you. You have fifteen minutes to decide what you want to do, and it's all or nothing. Whatever you choose, that's it for the whole group.

You," she continued, turning her attention to Lorne, "are a whole different matter. We're going to be too busy to baby-sit anyone. It's not like you can go to the police, but you do hang around with all those pesky do-gooders. If we put you back into the general population, you'll have all your little friends out looking for this bunch in no time." Her lips folded into a rueful smile that Lorne was convinced was a sham.

"Sorry, sweet thing, but that just doesn't fit with our plans. We need some time to make some arrangements before the authorities catch up with who we used to be, if you catch my drift. So, whatever the kids decide to do, you stay here. That's the best deal you get."

"I guess I might as well fix myself a drink, then." The green demon tested his bounds.

"Sure, help yourself. Might as well make yourself at home while you sit here keeping your fingers crossed that Angel can actually manage an investigation. Seems to me that they're probably missing their ex-watcher round about now.

You should hope he does a better job of finding you than he made of trying to find that seer of yours... cause that's all the hope you've got."

 




 

Half an hour later, the helicopter took off. Lorne listened to the whirr of the rotors in the distance. The kids had stayed. He had known they would, and he suspected Scheherazade had known, too. If he could pick up on the signs that one of the girls was pregnant, then he was fairly certain the vampire would have picked up on the second heartbeat, even if they hadn't heard her and her boyfriend talking about it. The whole choice thing had just been a way to set the group at odds with each other. One last cruel joke, like asking them to choose how they wanted to die.

For now the kids seemed happy enough, laying claim to their own rooms and exploring the confines of their luxury prison. Some of them had joined him in raiding the drinks cabinet. He'd managed to convince them to hold off on smashing up the furniture until it became their only source of fuel. Once things started to run short, the recriminations would start, though. A couple of the kids had wanted to take their chances in the wilderness. Most of the others had been willing to take their chances on the streets and trust the vampires not to simply give them a deliberate O/D. They would all start laying the blame at the feet of the couple and their unborn child as soon as things started to run out.

Lorne hoped he wouldn't have to wait that long. Despite Scheherazade's comments, Angel normally did pretty well when the chips were down.

In the skies above them, Scheherazade watched the cabin for as long as she could before it was hidden from view by the stark planes of the mountains. It was the last time she would see it, after all. She almost wished they could have taken the green demon with them, but that might have tipped them off. Now, it didn't matter. By midnight she would be safely on her way to a new but equally luxurious life. A couple of hours after that, the little fire bomb that had been set up in the locked cellar would go off, surrounded by the cabin's store of spirits and all the spare fuel for the generator. It would be weeks before they had any hope of identifying the bodies. If she was really lucky, one of the girls would play dress-up with the clothes and jewellery she'd left behind, and they might make a false provisional identification on the basis of personal effects. Of course, if the authorities realised they had a non-human body in there, it could cause problems, but by that time she and her associates would be long gone.

 




 

Back in Los Angeles, Buffy screwed the top back onto the large jar of burn cream which she had emptied tending to Spike's wounds and set it to one side when she realised there was no bin in their chosen room. She rubbed her hands together until they absorbed the last of the ointment before reaching over to brush an errant curl from Spike's forehead.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, before clarifying her question. "I mean, the Drusilla thing, not the burns. I know they'll heal in time."

"I... I guess. I mean there's this kind of empty feeling where I know I'll never see her again, but when the memories came back, it's like this sort of distance came back with them. Before that, I don't know. I mean the last thing I remembered was the fight that put me in that wheelchair. We loved each other. I would have died for her. All those things that happened after that, her and Angel, those other demons. All that hurt; it was wiped clean. I mean I've known for years that we'd never get back together. It doesn't mean you stop caring, but it doesn't cut as deep."

"You seemed pretty bad when it happened," Buffy commented.

"That? That was nothin', not compared with... other times." Spike sighed before continuing in a soft voice. "Look, love, I'm not trying to shut you out, but I don't really want to talk about it either."

"That's okay," Buffy whispered as she leant in to claim a gentle kiss. "We've got other ways to share what we're feeling." She drew her head back a fraction of an inch to tell him, "I missed you, so much. It seemed like forever."

Spike's hand reached out to gently pull aside the huge towel that Buffy had wrapped up in when she took off her wet clothes, but his eyes never left her face. "Missed you, too, love, when I could remember who I was missing. She wanted me to give up on you, but I never did. I knew if I couldn't find a way out on my own that you'd find a way to come for me."

Buffy chose to answer him with some silent communication. She lay on her back and then shuffled towards him, slipping her arm through the gap between his chest and the mattress, so that she was pressed against his left side and had only to lift her head to kiss him again. Her fingers stroked his back, and her other hand gripped his bicep, partly to make sure she didn't accidentally brush against his damaged flesh. Spike leant into her embrace, his cool lips brushing softly against hers before he traced the line of her jaw instead, savouring the gentle beat of her pulse as they lingered just below her ear. Buffy nuzzled against him, offering solace in her touch.

The two came together with a gentleness that was partly due to care for Spike's injuries and partly an expression of Spike's sorrow and Buffy's consideration for his feelings. Buffy whispered one word as he nibbled at her earlobe. "Mine." She could feel his lips curve into a smile without leaving her flesh.

"Always," he confirmed. "With or without the scars to prove it. Just like you're mine."

"Till the end of the world, Blue Eyes."

She turned her head to reclaim his lips with her own, but after a time, Spike evaded her efforts, working his way down her body instead. Buffy didn't bother to ask whether he was physically up to consummating their relationship. She could feel his answer brushing against her thigh. Instead, she let him decide what he wanted and let him chose their relative positions while she continued to lavish whatever unmarred skin she could reach with tender caresses. A thousand times her fingertips and her lips told him without words that she loved him, that she shared his grief. With a thousand kisses, he let her know that her feelings were returned and shared his sadness, so that in time, he could put it behind him. She arched against him as his lips teased an erect nipple and then winced as he drew in a sharp breath. She let her fingers run through his hair, drawing him back from his position over her.

"Sit up," she whispered as if even a loud word could break the fragile beauty that they created with their bodies. Spike shifted to a kneeling position, and Buffy moved to kneel opposite him. First she leant in to claim his lips. Then, she took her turn to work her way down his body. Her teeth grazed against the flesh on the left side of his neck. This simulated act of feeding caused his dick to throb as she stroked it, avoiding the tender area near the base where the creases in his jeans had partially channelled the holy water toward his groin. She brushed her lips against his collarbone, so perfect in comparison to the brutalised flesh on the other side of his neck.

She knew she should be repulsed by his injuries, that a human, who suffered similar wounds would be permanently disfigured, but all she could see was the man she loved. When she shied away from the areas that had been scorched by the holy water, it was solely to spare Spike's discomfort. She shuffled back slightly as she ducked her head lower, her tongue teasingly playing over his nipple before she blew delicately on the dampened flesh to send tingles through his body. Her hands continued to bestow gentle caresses all over, even as she began to use her tongue to trace the lines of his abdomen, her hair brushing against the sensitive flesh of his shaft as she moved lower.

When she finally took his head into her mouth, Spike was unable to stifle a groan. Her tongue traced the ridge that ran up the front ofhis dick, and she bobbed her head in a slow rhythm. Spike's hands moved to tangle in her hair though he didn't exert any pressure to influence her movements, letting her set her own pace. She slowly sucked and teased at his most sensitive flesh until she knew he was near to being unable to endure further torture. Sitting back up, she pulled his lips to meet her own, letting him taste his pre-cum in her mouth. Even as they kissed she shifted to the edge of the bed, drawing him with her. Taking his hand in hers, she rose and made her way to the room's dressing table. She turned to kiss him one last time before she shifted to stand facing the unit with her thighs pressed against it and her legs slightly parted. She bent over the unit, offering herself to him in the way that allowed him most control over the contact between them. With her right hand she reached behind her, and Spike took it in his, their fingers twining in a bond that belied the seeming crudity of their upcoming coupling.

As he pushed into her, she was unable to tear her gaze from the mirror she was facing. It looked like she moved on her own, but she knew that she pushed back against her lover's thrust. She knew that it was the feel of her flesh stretching around his dick that caused her eyes to widen and her pupils to dilate. She knew that as he gently withdrew his eyes watched the reflection of her own. She knew that even though she couldn't see its reflection, it was his hand that cupped her breast, his thumbnail rasping back and forth against her erect nipple, causing electric impulses both there and between her legs. She knew that his eyes would watch her every expression until she finally screamed his name. She shivered in anticipation as his hand shifted down, fingers splayed to cover her stomach as if he was using it to claim her flesh as his own before thrusting back into her. She missed the feel of his groin pressed her flesh but she knew that his injuries made this impractical. Instead, his hand shifted lower using the ball of his hand in a firm rotating massage against her clit while his fingers teased gently at her folds. All the time she watched her own reflection, transfixed by its changing expressions as Spike moved inside her.

There seemed to be all the time in the world as they moved against each other. None of the troubles of the day were important here. The world outside their room might as well not exist. All that was important was the way they felt about each other and their expression of it. Everything else faded into insignificance as they re-affirmed their emotional bond. When they came, it wasn't to the sound of Buffy's loud cries or screams of passion but to her tremulous sigh of contentment. When Spike drew her back to their bed and lay on his back so that she could tuck her shoulder under his arm, resting her head against his shoulder and draping a leg over his. It seemed the most natural thing in the world that they should drift off into a gentle slumber. And as they did time continued to run out for Lorne and his charges.
 
chapter 2:02
 
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SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)




Chapter 2.02
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Willow and Tara began to set up to recast their improved location spell, this time using one of Lorne's brightly coloured handkerchiefs, which had been raided from his room. Angel had passed on the news regarding Lorne and the others' imprisonment. The spell was their way, partly to double-check Spike's testimony as to where the hostages had been kept, always assuming they actually managed to pry him and Buffy apart for long enough to get it. It was also a way to see if Lorne had been moved from the location where Spike had been held.

Fred was sweeping up the debris from both Xander's swordplay and the combined effect of Gunn's, Lori's, Anya's and Tara's crossbows. When Willow saw her heading toward the pile of dust that had once been Drusilla, she moved to intercept her before Dru's ashes could become mingled with that of the other vampires.

"Em, I don't know about Angel, but I'm willing to bet Spike wouldn't be too happy about his ex ending up in the trash. And after that little show tonight, I'm kind of remembering why it might not be the best idea in the world to piss him off."

"Oh! Em."

Willow felt a sudden wave of ex-nerd solidarity with the Texan and came to her rescue as she obviously struggled with the correct etiquette.

"Maybe a shoebox, or a nice sweet tin or biscuit tin, something like that? Just till Spike and Angel decide what they want to do with them."

"I know. I've got something upstairs."

As Willow watched her retreating back, she heaved a sigh of relief at the potential public relations disaster that had been averted. To judge by Buffy's reaction, the blonde vampire must have his good points, but being level-headed certainly wasn't prime amongst them.

Xander wandered over in her direction with Anya following a couple of paces behind. Willow had to extend a hand to stop him before he walked through Drusilla. "We're going to head back to Sunny D. Got a hard day pounding nails to look forward to tomorrow, and I'm guessing when they finally do come through with this helicopter that space is going to be at a premium, especially if there're going to be an extra seven bodies-. I didn't mean that how it sounded. Seven extra- Six extra people and a big green thing."

"Xander." Willow adopted her long-suffering friend tone as she shook her head gently from side to side. "Sure. Do you want us to call and let you know what happens later or just catch up when we get back?"

"I think we can skip the three in the morning phone call."

"Are you going to check on Dawnie when you get back? I think she might like a first hand account of the action. Clem called before, but it's not the same as talking face to face. And I think he was crying most of the time. I definitely never want to be around if he watches Bambi."

"She's staying with Clem's folks, right?" the brunette asked. "I think I'll skip the demon house party."

"Xander!" Simultaneous exclamations came from two of the three most important women in his life. Anya's exclamation was accompanied by a slap on the back of his no longer invulnerable head.

"Ow. I was just saying spending the night with a bunch of demons, not my idea of a fun evening." This earned him another slap.

"I'll be waiting in the car when you finish here, always assuming you don't object to sharing transport with an ex-demon." With that the blonde marched toward the hotel's back door.

Willow merely shook her head at her friend's tactlessness. "Look, I'd best go before I end up sleeping on the sofa tonight. I gave the balls to Wesley, so if you can bring them back with you when you finally get back, it'd be kinda cool. God knows it's probably the last present I'm ever likely to get from bleach boy, so I'd best hang onto them."

Willow couldn't resist. "So, it's just because they're a present from Spike? Nothing to do with that "cascade thing" Anya was raving about?" As Xander flushed and shuffled his feet Willow's face split into a mischievous grin, the tip of her tongue just showing between her teeth.

"Willow Rosenberg. If your mother heard you now."

"She would block it out, just the same as how she'll tell me about some nice, Jewish boy that she knows while me and Tara hold hands when we're visiting."

Xander enfolded her in a parting hug. "I've really got to go. Say bye to Buffy for me." He walked the couple of yards to where Tara was setting up to hug her, too. "See ya back on the flip side," he told her. With a last wave to the general populace of the reception, he headed for the hotel's back door, hoping against hope he could manage to pacify his wife before bedtime. The Red Sonja routine would be right out otherwise.

Willow watched the carpenter depart, wondering just how long it would take him to learn how to avoid putting both feet in it with his new wife. Before she could spend too much longer on her musings, Fred returned with an ornate tin.

"Will this do?" she asked.

"Sure. Well, mostly sure. That's to say we'll know for sure when Angel and Spike don't rip our heads off, metaphorically speaking, that is," Willow answered.

"When we don't rip your heads off for what?" asked Angel as he emerged from the kitchen with a tray full of mugs

"Putting Drusilla in a biscuit tin?" Willow replied.

"As an alternative to what? It's not like we keep a spare urn around the place just in case. It'll be fine," the vampire replied.

"Well... good. Glad that's all sorted out." Willow replied before snagging two of the cups from Angel's tray, taking one over to Tara.

"I think we're ready," the other Wicca told her.

"Ho-o-kay. One super-duper location spell coming up, right after we have some caffeinated goodness." The redhead positively bubbled at the prospect of more high-powered magic. "Now, is it supposed to be good or bad if he's in the same place?"

Tara smiled at her obvious enthusiasm. "I think so long as we know where he is, we'll make the best of it, Will."

Angel passed a cup to Fred and then made his way across to where Lily, Clem, Lori and Wesley had settled in on the red sofas to wait until they were needed. He offered refreshments to Lori and the two demons, and then with obvious reluctance, he crossed to where Wesley sat.

The Englishman took a cup from the tray, saying a quiet thank you as he did.

Angel's acknowledgement consisted of an infinitesimal nod and a barely audible grunt. He might be mending fences when it came to Spike, but that didn't mean he was prepared to issue a general amnesty. In fact, he'd actually counted on the cups running out before he got as far as Wesley, but he seemed to have one left over. He knew Gunn and Connor had gone upstairs to try to grab an hour or two of sleep before they were needed.

"Xander?" he asked no one in particular.

"Gone back to Sunnydale," Willow supplied. "Kind of a pre-requisite of being gainfully employed that you actually show up."

"How long before we know whether the location spell's going to work?" he asked putting the tray down on top of the reception desk and claiming the last coffee for himself.

Tara shrugged before she replied. "About ten minutes once we finish our coffees."

"And if it works, does that mean we know he's still alive?" the vampire asked.

"I think so," Tara replied. "The spell sort of picks up on the aura of the person most closely associated with the item. No aura means nothing it can pick up on, but that doesn't mean that he's dead if it doesn't work. It could just mean that we picked up on Spike because he'd moved outside the area that was warded and we have to try one of the other spells to get round the wards."

"Alright, I guess we'll just need to wait and see, then." Angel began to straighten up the reception desk, putting all Cordy's bits and pieces back where she liked them. "Fred, have you seen Cordy's notepad anywhere?" He started to pull out things from under the desk to see if the pad had fallen down the back somewhere. Somehow, it seemed vitally important that everything should be as it was, as if a missing notebook would prevent her return.

"I can't remember seeing it the last couple of days," Fred replied. "I'm sure it'll turn up."

Just as Angel had pulled the maximum amount of debris from under the desk the phone began to ring. The vampire dove toward it, answering before it could manage a second ring.

"Angel Investigations."

The brunette listened intently for several seconds before putting the phone down. "We've got a go, people. Turns out one of David's role-playing buddies' dad flew Hueys in 'Nam. He's kept his licence up to date and roped in one of his mates, who runs a charter company. Assuming we've got an extra seven to bring back, we've got enough space for five. Spike's got to go, which means there's about as much chance of snow in June as there is of Buffy staying behind, so that just leaves space for Connor and Gunn."

"I'll go tell the others that we need them," Fred volunteered.

"Wait a minute, Fred," Wesley interrupted. "I think Angel's forgotten one thing. We know that they've been using magic. I think it would be ill advised for neither Tara nor Willow to go."

Fred looked back and forward between the pair for a couple of seconds before she retreated upstairs. "I'll just let them know we're trying to sort out who should go. Which room are Buffy and Spike in?"

"Three fourteen," Angel answered.

"Oh, that's easy, right." A second later she was gone.

 




 

At first, the sound of knocking failed to rouse Spike from his dreams, the sound merely accompanying his own blows on the inside of his coffin lid and the answering taps from above. Somehow, in the way of dreams, he knew that the noises above him were caused by Buffy, buried alive in her own coffin. In a manner not uncommon for married couples in his own time as some of the cemeteries had neared capacity, they had been buried in the same plot with one spouse's coffin resting on top of the other. Just as he succeeded in tearing loose the first chunk of wood from the coffin lid, he realised that a voice called out his name. The inconsistency of the Texan accent finally roused him from his sleep.

"We'll be down in a couple of minutes, sweetheart." Spike called as he pulled free of the sticky sheets before gently shaking Buffy from her apparently equally troubled sleep.

"Pet," he whispered before he bestowed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It's time to go. C'mon, love. Best go see what's left." Even as Buffy cleared the sleep from her eyes, he rifled through the bag that Angel had brought up, finding his jeans, a T-shirt and an over shirt. He tossed the rest of the bag over to Buffy, who started pulling on clothes before she even bothered to come out from under the sheet and blankets that had covered them.

When she finally made her way out from under the covers Spike took her into his arms holding her close for several seconds before pulling back and taking her hand for their walk downstairs.



 




 

Willow and Tara set aside their coffee cups and began work on the spell. First, they lit candles and incense on either side of the area where they would be working. Then, they placed Lorne's handkerchief and a map of the Western seaboard inside the sacred circle that they had prepared. The two witches linked hands across the circle and began to chant.

"Hidden from sight
Yet in our thoughts
Far afield
Deep magicks wrought

Charm dispel
Clarity bring
Let his aura
Now be seen."

The pair repeated these two verses time and again as the others watched until after several minutes, a small but bright pinprick of light seemed to emerge from the folds of the royal blue silk. It shifted to hover over the map and circle the blob that represented LA a couple of times as if trying to find its bearings before streaking off and almost instantly disappearing.

"Did you see where it went?" Willow asked.

"I think it was sort of north, but it was so quick once it moved." The blonde witch shrugged.

"Was it supposed to poof like that?" Clem asked.

"No, it should have zeroed in on where he was and then stayed there. It probably disappeared when it reached the boundary of the warded area," the blonde witch replied.

"It's just as well that one of us knows where he's going, then." Spike's voice carried down from the mezzanine level, preceding his and Buffy's entrance by only a few seconds.

"We're looking to be in the Sierra Nevada a bit south of all those National Parks and whatnot, and as to the rest, I'll know it when I see it."

"And if they've been moved?" Angel asked.

Spike gave the older vamp an exasperated glare before responding. "Then we're jolly well buggered, aren't we? So you better hope not."

A thought suddenly seemed to occur to Spike. "Where's the DeSoto, pet?"

"Well, seeing as how you're the one with the keys, it'll be right where you left it." She forestalled his next question. "We paid up the room for the rest of the week so they wouldn't tow it or anything. You can get it later. Okay?"

"Right, then," the blonde announced. "I'd best just go and have a word with Clem and Lily, I reckon. Give us a shout when you've got it worked out who's going and stuff."

Buffy smiled as she watched the vampire attempt to look nonchalant as he wandered toward his friend and his mother. He didn't fool her, and he wouldn't fool Lily, and she very much doubted that he'd even fool Clem. The shuffling feet and bowed head said it all; Buffy smiled and turned her attention back to the discussion in front of her.

"Wesley's right. We need Will. We already know they've had some warlock up there doing stuff. We need someone who can counter any evil mojo they've got on the place. For all we know, magic dude could still be there."

"You mean I don't get no helicopter ride?" Gunn asked.

"I would have said rather you than Stephen," Buffy admitted.

"That's so unfair. I'm stronger than he is and faster," Connor protested.

"And last week you didn't know what a proper vampire bite looked like, and until you have to, it's something you're best off not knowing. Okay?" Buffy retaliated. "Don't be in such a hurry to stop being a kid." She turned to her ex. "And what were you thinking? Those kids are his age, give or take. What do you think it would be like for him if we go up there, and they're all dead, or even better, turned?"

"I guess I just wanted him to be a part of what I do," Angel admitted looking a little shamefaced. "It's not like he's your typical teenage kid."

"And doesn't that make you want to give him a chance to be more like one, rather than stripping away the last bits of childhood he has left. Okay, so he's super strong and super fast. He's still only sixteen, seventeen. He should be worrying about homework and whether he can get a date with the girl he likes, not killing monsters. At least, that shouldn't be his whole life. You're his dad, not his big brother. Heaven knows I hate it when I have to play mom with Dawn, but at least I've got an excuse. I know you can't wrap him in cotton wool, but that doesn't mean it's a healthy idea to take him along to a potential massacre either."

"Well, if you put it like that..."

Spike walked up behind Buffy and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Bit's fifteen, and she won't even let her drink coffee. How did you expect her to put it?" Buffy gave him a gentle punch in his good side for his teasing tone.

"Whereas you just teach her how to pick locks and stuff."

"Hey, like it's a bad thing for the slayer's little sister to be able to get out of a set of handcuffs. How often do the nasties use her to try to get to you?"

Buffy gave her head a slight shake and gave up arguing. "Okay, way I see it Spike has to go. So does Will. And then that leaves space for three of us out of you, me, Wes and Gunn." She turned to Wes and Gunn. "Either of you two know first aid." Both men nodded.

"Okay then, guess it's us five then. So where did you say we'd get these helicopters?" Spike couldn't help but smile at the way she automatically overrode Angel.

"Hey, I'm the one who managed to get hold of the helicopters. That should mean I get to go," Angel insisted.

"As I recall, you said Texas there did the ringing, and she's about the only one that hasn't been nominated for a berth," was Spike's reply.

"Yes, but I'm the one who knows David Nabbit."

"Not the only one," Wesley reminded him

It was at this point Willow walked up to the group and held out her fist. Three long, thin scraps of paper stuck out from the top. She looked at Angel, Wesley and Gunn.

"Buf-." Angel began only to be confronted by Willow's resolve face.

"Snow in June." The redhead reminded him of his earlier words.

The three men each reached for the end of one of the strips, all tugging their chosen one from her grasp at the same time. The chagrined expression on the face of one of the men told it's own story.

The redhead stared down each of the other two in turn. Then, she asked, "can we go now?"

Spike gave a snort of amusement before turning toward the door, his arm still around Buffy's shoulders. The slayer wasn't the only little girl who had grown up since Angel and Wesley had left Sunnydale. As they made their way to the cars, Spike heard the distant sound of a church clock striking ten.
 
Chapter 2:03
 
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SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)



Chapter 2.03
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Wesley didn't think about what he was doing. He simply drew the shorter piece of paper from Gunn's hand and handed him both his own longer piece and the pouch that contained the orbs.

Before the other man could say anything either in thanks, or as Wesley suspected would be more likely, in protest, he turned and headed for where Tara was preparing the necessary components for one of the other location spells.

"You might need what's in the pouch," he told the younger man, deliberately not looking back so that Gunn wouldn't need to meet his gaze. "Any of the Sunnydale crowd will be able to tell you what they do. I've got plenty I can be getting on with here." He gestured in the vague direction of the stack of books they had removed from Holliday's shop, in addition to the one the demon had intimated would be useful.

"I've got to make a start on checking through Holliday's inventory tomorrow, so it's not as if I couldn't do with an early night."

"Look. I ain't-."

"You aren't going to be able to help those kids if you stay here. You're simply better qualified for dealing with them than I. I suggest you don't keep the others waiting."

Only when he heard the door open and close once more did Wes finally let his shoulders relax. He gave Tara a soft smile. "How can I help?" he asked.

 




 

Spike and Buffy turned as Angel approached, the vampire's arm still casually draped around the slayer's shoulders. "Who's drivin' an' which car?"

"I am, and it's the convertible," answered Angel in a tone that brooked no argument.

Spike merely shrugged and turned his attention to Buffy once more, scooping her into his arms and depositing her gently on the car's backseat before she had time to realise what he was up to. Then, when she shifted over in the seat to make room, he rested his butt on the body of the car just behind the rear seat, swinging his legs over and in before dropping down into place.

The relatively sedate nature of his entry into the vehicle told Buffy that he was suffering more from his wounds than he would say. Leaning in towards him, she slid her arm under his before clasping his hand and letting her head rest on his shoulder.

"You really thought you were in a fit state to take on a slayer?" she asked.

"Yeah, well. I was kind of expecting some sixteen year old. and I didn't remember the number of times between now and then that you happened to kick my butt."

The pair were distracted as Willow climbed into the front passenger seat of the car.

"Hey," Buffy called from the back. "Have I got cooties or something?"

"No, but I kinda figured that Wes would be taking his car so that we had space to bring people back."

"Good point," The blonde conceded. "What're we going to do with them all when we get back to town anyway? Are we going to have to take them all back to their families?"

"Yeah, right, pet. 'Cause it's been all over the telly that they've disappeared. They picked 'em up off the streets. They don't have any family or they ran away from it," Spike told her. "Looks like the Hyperion Hotel is about to become the Hyperion Hostel."

Angel scowled at the thought of further invasions of his privacy. Somehow this was Spike's fault. He hadn't worked out exactly how, but deep down he just knew it.

Spike's next words drew him from his contemplation. "Looks like the watcher decided not to come, after all." The rest of the group looked over to see Gunn emerging from the Hotel's back door. He walked over to the convertible and vaulted into the remaining seat in the back.

"Let's go," he told Angel, who merely waited bemused as Willow let out a heavy sigh. "Am I the only one who wasn't going to leave these people sitting at the airport or wherever we're actually driving to?" she asked.

"Where are we going?" Spike posed his own question.

"David's place. The charter company's based at the airstrip at Long Beach, so it's quicker for him to come to us, and David's got plenty of space for him to land."

"I was kind of looking for something that would tell me whether we were going to be going anywhere near where the DeSoto is," the blond replied. "That said, I guess if this guy's as well off as all that, he won't mind putting up a few kids for a while so we don't really need another car, do we? So I guess we can just go ," he added pointedly. "Unless you really , really want to bring them all home and wuv them and wook after them like widdle, stway puppies so they can be company for junior, that is?"

Gunn sat forward to look past Buffy in the blond vampire's direction. "Is he always like that?" he asked no one in particular, as Angel finally pulled away.

"Only when he can't eat people," Willow answered and then seemed to consider her response further. "So, yeah, pretty much."

 




 

As the car made its way from downtown LA through the more affluent suburbs, Spike began to absently search through his coat pockets. A packet of cigarettes was pulled from one pocket, soon followed by his lighter. He lit up a cigarette, no mean feat in itself given the speed of the open top vehicle, but this seemed only to delay his search slightly rather than be the object of it. By the time he'd gone through all his coat pockets twice, his patience was obviously at an end.

"Balls!" he swore under his breath.

"What's up?" Buffy asked.

"Phone's missing. Wasn't really something I'd have had four years back so I didn't twig before."

"So are you just annoyed that it's missing, or did you actually want to call someone?"

"Both. I'd kind of like it if Bit wasn't waitin' with a stake when we get back."

Buffy rummaged in her purse, pulling out one of three phones that still remained there after her Sunday morning shopping spree. "Lucky I've got some spares. I think I might've gone overboard when we wanted to make sure everyone could stay in touch. She's staying with Marie, so don't bother calling Revello."

Buffy passed the phone over and Spike started flicking through the phone book until he found the number he wanted.

"Hey, Bit." Spike began in typically laid back style.

"So you remember who I am, do you? Only took you three hours."

"Sorry, pet. Once your sis got me patched up a bit we ended up crashing for a couple of hours."

"That's a new name for it," Dawn responded, but her tone was more teasing than caustic, even if it still had a slight edge. "Are you okay? That whole bathtub thing had us kind of worried."

"Bathtub thing?" Spike queried.

"Get Buffy to tell you. And bear in mind it's not just your ass on the line any more. Now, answer the question. Are you okay?"

"I'm a bit banged up, but nothin' that won't be all healed by the time the wedding rolls around. We still on for dinner with your young man tomorrow night?"

"As far as I know. You going to make it back?"

"Wouldn't miss it, pet," Spike assured her.

"Yeah, right. I'll believe it when I see it."

Spike sighed at her sceptical tone. "If we can, we'll be there to pick you up from school tomorrow. Okay, Bite-Size?"

"I guess I can wait that long."

"D'you want to talk to your big sis?" Spike asked.

"Why would I want to do that?" the teenager asked, reluctant to seem overly attached to her sister.

"Maybe to give her a hard time, too?"

"Yeah, put her on, why don't you?"

Spike passed the handset over to his fiancée.

"Hey, Dawnie," Buffy greeted her sister.

"I guess you haven't told him about your bloodbath, then?" Dawn accused.

"There hasn't exactly been a lot of time to talk. We'll get round to it sooner or later, when we get some privacy. We've got quite a bit we need to discuss."

"Yeah, right. Spike says you'll be back home tomorrow."

"I don't see why not. We've got some bits and pieces to do, but we should be finished later on tonight. We'll try to call tomorrow before you go to school. Okay?"

"Okay. Stay safe."

"We'll do our best. Bye."

"Bye. Talk to you tomorrow."

Buffy cut the connection and passed the phone back to Spike. "You might as well keep one," she told him. "You paid for them."

Out of curiosity, Spike dialled the number for his own cell phone. It rang for what seemed like minutes before he was connected to his voicemail service. He terminated the call and put the phone away in his pocket.

 




 

"Hey, come on up." The disembodied voice coming from the speaker at the gate was unmistakably that of David Nabbit.

The high, black gates swung open and the convertible glided majestically through and coasted up the drive.

Even as they pulled up in front of the large house, the multi-millionaire was waiting on his doorstep to greet them. "Hey there. The chopper isn't here yet. It should be about another half an hour maybe forty minutes."

"I thought you said it would only be a fifteen minute flight," Angel responded, obviously anxious to get things rolling as soon as possible.

"It is. But then Doug's dad and the other pilot have to get to the strip and do the pre-flight checks. So do you guys want a coffee or a drink or something while you're waiting?"

"I'll have a drink," Spike was quick to respond, receiving a poke in his ribs for his trouble. "Wha'? Might as well. No point standing round doing nothing." Buffy gave an exasperated sigh that was belied by her amused smile as she watched her fiancé's retreating back as he scrambled from the car. The slayer followed suit, taking his hand again as he turned to help her out.

"You drink more than you should," Buffy told him.

"'S that right, love? Well, if you want me to drink less, you'll just have to keep me and my mouth occupied with other things." His voice was partly gently mocking and wholly seductive. He leant in for a gentle but prolonged kiss by way of demonstration. The other three got out of the car and had followed David into the house before he raised his head once more. His hand came up to caress her face, his thumb gently brushing her cheekbone as she melted into his touch.

"Pig." Buffy mouthed the insult under her breath, knowing he was more than capable of hearing it.

"Love you, too, pet." His response came as a dryly amused whisper.

As they followed the others into the house, Spike could hear Willow apologising on their behalf. "Em, you'll have to excuse Spike and Buffy. It's their one-week engagement anniversary, and they've only just got Spike back. They're not normally all kissy-face. Except when they are."

"I'm sure the guy's seen people kiss before, Red. He might even have done it himself a few times. He doesn't need a diagram." Spike overrode Willow's apology with all the finesse of a bulldozer. "Why don't you do the introductions, Angelus, and then the nice man can get back to offering alcohol."

Angel gave a long-suffering sigh. It didn't matter how much Spike changed, in some ways he was determinedly the same.

"David, this is Spike, Buffy and Willow. They're visiting from Sunnydale. This is Gunn. I don't think you guys have met, but he's been working with us for quite a while."

"So you guys are all demon hunters, too?" David asked.

"Ya could say that," Buffy told him.

Spike snorted. "And you could also say the North Pole's a bit chilly, and it'd be about the same level of understatement."

"Buffy is the slayer. It's kind of this whole demon-killing destiny," Angel provided for the mystified millionaire.

 




 

Spike was finishing off his second single malt when he heard the sound of the helicopter arriving. He sat his empty glass down on the end table near his chair and strode to watch through the room's french windows as the machine landed. Buffy came to stand next to him, a diet coke can still in her hand.

"I've never been in a helicopter before. Have you?" she asked.

"A couple of times. 'S just another way of getting from A to B when all's said and done."

"What if I get airsick?"

"You won't, but if you do, I'll look after you."

"What if Willow gets sick?" she teased.

"Then, she can look after herself. Or more likely magic herself better," Spike added in what sounded to Buffy like a slightly disapproving tone.

"Shouldn't we go wait outside?"

"Nah, let him stop the rotors first. Those things make quite a draught."

However, David chose this moment to walk past them and throw wide the doors until metal clips on their outer edge latched into clips set into the walls on either side of the doorway, to hold them securely open. The others began to spill out onto the lawn at the rear of the house. Buffy tugged on Spike's arm, pulling him outside.

"If we're going to get your hair all mussed up anyway, we might as well get a better view," she told him.

He let himself be pulled out into the gardens, but as he watched her smiling face, he knew views didn't come any better.

 




 

It took a good ten minutes for the helicopter to land, for Spike to discuss with the two pilots where roughly they were headed and for all the passengers to get belted in safely. By the time they took to the air, it was a little after quarter past eleven. With about an hour of flying time to get them into the right general area and then a bit longer for Spike to pinpoint where they were going, it was going to be at least half past twelve before they reached the cabin.

 
Chapter 2:04
 
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SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)



Chapter 2.04
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Lorne had settled in for the evening, or at least he thought it was the evening, locked in, as they were, they had no real way to tell. The others were all doing their own thing, whatever that happened to be. One of the kids had been making full use of the kitchen since their host's departure, taking it upon himself both to cook a meal for everyone that night and to sort out menus that made the best possible use of the supplies they had.

The couple had shut themselves in one of the rooms, and even when the food had been served, it had only prompted the male half of the partnership to come out long enough to take a couple of plates upstairs. No prizes for sociability heading in that direction.

A couple of the others had volunteered for washing up duty, seeing as they'd had dinner cooked for them, they said it was the least they could do. After that, everyone except Lorne had briefly headed off to their various rooms to get showered and see what they could find in the way of clothing. Now, they were back in the living room, lounging in front of the open fire to dry off their hair, rather than using precious electricity.

Most of the kids seemed to have no problem with making all their amenities last as long as possible. They seemed resigned that their showers should be the last, for at least the next few days. They agreed to stick to the menus that the kid had drawn up, knowing it would be more efficient to cook one communal meal than seven individual ones. They stayed in the main room, partly for company but also to save on lighting.

They resolved that tomorrow morning they would comb the cabin for tools to help them break free of their confinement, either through the metal shutters, or if necessary, through the wall. One of the kids was even game for trying to scale the inside of the chimney, once the fire had died down overnight. It would be a tight fit, but considering how scrawny some of the kids were, they might be able to make it.

Tonight, however was given over to winding down.

They had spent the last couple of days not knowing if they would live or die, and whilst their situation was still dire, it was a lot better than it had been. They were warm. They were clean. They had some drinks. They had music. They had rooms with actual beds to sleep in. Except for the whole shut-in deal they were better off than normal by a long shot.

In one of the cupboards they had found a stack of games, including Twister, and a semi-inebriated festival of contortions had ensued with Lorne spectating from his position at the piano stool. Trapped or no, there were some things he would not do. Besides, if he fell on one of those kids they'd snap like a twig. After about an hour or so, they had finally given up and a couple of the kids were now playing chess, while the other two were playing some form of two-person patience.

"So," one of the card players asked. "We know how we got roped in to this, but what's your story. I can't say I've seen many like you sleeping out downtown."

"I hang out with a bad crowd," Lorne replied.

"You trying to tell me you're part of some sort of gang?" the kid responded with a healthy scepticism.

"Might as well be. I've been threatened at gunpoint. Had my bar wrecked not once but three times. First time they drove a car into it. Then some acquaintances of an acquaintance of mine shot it up with SMG's. Last time, they just rolled in a lighted gas cylinder and blew the place to smithereens. That was when I gave up my listing in the Zagat's Guide. I get knocked out and tied up on a semi-regular basis, but kidnapping's a new one. unless you count that not entirely voluntary trip to another dimension when they made me visit mommy dearest."

"Sounds like you could do with some new friends." This was the female chess player.

"So I have even more people to get me into trouble?"

"So what was with that guy you were looking after before? Where's he?" she continued her questioning.

"Spike? I could say he's a friend of a friend but I don't think friendship covers whatever him and Angel have." Lorne took another sip of his drink and made a face. "Actually I don't think there is a word that could describe the pair of them."

"But he was a vampire, right?"

"No foolin' you, strudel."

"And that woman who was hurting him and the one with the camera? They were vampires, too?"

"Uh huh," Lorne confirmed.

"So what's up with that? Shouldn't they be on the same side? Or shouldn't they just kill each other? What's with all the chains and burns and stuff? I mean the way he was hitting all her buttons I'd have said ex in capital letters, but I couldn't work out whether they hated each other's guts or whether they were going to bone each other on the spot and then the way she carried him out, I mean it was her that did all that to him but she carried him out like, I don't know. Like she was going to look after him."

"Nobody said love made sense, dumpling."

"So you're saying they were in love. That's what passes for foreplay in vampire circles?"

"Were in love. Emphasis on the were . Blondie found himself someone else. That's what got the lady's panties in a bunch. All's fine with the world as long as the ex is miserable but as soon as he finds his soul-mate."

"Okay, so that whole torture scene was all just a variation on the whole 'Hell hath no fury' riff, but where is he? I mean he was locked up just as much as we were. More, even. So where is he now?"

"Wrong question, my petit four."

"What?"

"Where he is isn't half as important as who he is." A noise from one of the upstairs rooms distracted Lorne from answering further. "Can anybody else hear that?"

The other four in the room shook their heads, but Lorne still headed for the stairs at a run, only for the noise to stop before he could reach the upstairs landing.

"What's up?" The girl he'd been talking to moved to the bottom of the stairs to see what had prompted his hurried departure.

"A phone. I'm sure I heard a phone."

The kids all shook their heads. "Wishful thinking. None of us heard anything, and even those two would have made an appearance if a phone had rung."

Although he was far from convinced, Lorne let himself be talked back to his position at the piano and by the time he'd exhausted his repertoire of Tamla Motown classics he'd forgotten all about the noise he thought he'd heard.

 




 

"Hey, you guys. That woman said we had plenty of water, didn't she?" the male half of the couple called from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah. What's the problem?" one of the girls asked.

"Well, Donna was just having a bath and when she went to top it up all the pipes kind of rattled, then nothing came out."

"That selfish bitch!"

"What? It's not her fault. We were supposed to have plenty of water?"

"Yeah, but do you know how long we can run the lighting in this room on the electricity it takes to heat a bath of water, let alone top it up? Why do you think everybody else is sitting in one room? Why do you think we all had showers instead of baths?"

"She gets backaches. We thought a bath would loosen up her muscles a bit, okay?"

"Considering she's the reason we're all stuck here, I say she should just put up with a bit of backache, at least till we manage to get to where we have access to the generator."

"Kiddies," Lorne interrupted before the mudslinging could get any worse. "I think we're missing the point. Why would our gracious hostess want us to think we had plenty water when we haven't? I think it's time we started checking what's behind all the locked doors round here to see if there are any more toy surprises. In the meantime, if the water's only just run out upstairs then I suggest someone tries the taps in the kitchen. There should be a few more feet of pressure there. Fill all the pans, buckets, whatever else you can find to put it in that isn't going to make it undrinkable afterwards. When you've done that, take a jug or whatever you can find and empty all the toilet tanks. We're going to need that water for drinking never mind anything else. Anyone needs to go, use the bathroom in the furthest room. No one's sleeping there.

And tell your other half not to empty that tub when she gets out. It'll do for washing dishes if nothing else."

Lorne couldn't help but have a really bad feeling about this. It could just be an added layer of discomfort, but their jailers had to know that given time they would find a way out of the cabin. No, there was more to this than met the eye.

The two chess players headed for the kitchen. Lorne led the rest of the group back upstairs. There were at least three locked rooms up there.

"Okay, any of you guys any good with locks or are we looking at brute force?" Lorne asked as they came to the first locked door.

"I can have a go," the remaining girl replied. "Sometimes it's hard to find somewhere out of the rain," she explained as she headed for the room she had laid claim to. A few seconds later she returned with a small roll of cloth. She extracted a couple of small metal tools from the roll and proceeded to manipulate the lock in a manner that completely mystified the green demon.

After some minutes, even the pregnant girl made an appearance, but the door remained locked. Lorne sighed. "Maybe we should be looking for something to use as a battering ram. No offence, but you don't seem to be getting anywhere, sugar pie."

Without taking her eyes from the lock the girl replied. "Hang onto your britches, there. You shouldn't believe everything you see in films. This takes time. Now, shut up, so I can hear."

Another couple of minutes after that, she withdrew her tools from the keyhole and opened the door with a flourish.

The group looked curiously at what seemed to be just another bedroom. "Okay, you guys go through everything you can find here. Check all the drawers. Go through the pockets of any clothes that are in the wardrobe. If all the other bedrooms were left open there has to be a reason this one was locked. Come on, sweet thing, you've got another two locked doors to get open."

 




 

Lorne took a hefty swig of neat vodka. So far they had found two bedrooms. Apart from some bits and pieces of not particularly expensive jewellery there didn't seem to be any reason why these rooms were locked when others were left open. Lorne corrected himself. To most people the jewellery wouldn't be expensive, to these kids it probably represented a small fortune. The third room had proven to be a small office. A radio phone that had once provided communication with the outside world had been smashed.

The real goldmine was the cell phone he had found tossed in the back of a drawer. The only problem was that there was no charger with it, and the power indicator was showing just one bar. If he picked the wrong number to call, he could blow their only chance.

The phone book entries were no good either, with such cryptic entries as B, G & R; C & L; W (No way he was trying that one. It had way too many digits.); TGP(Now, that one looked familiar for some reason. Actually, wasn't that the number for Angel Investigations but, if he called it now, then there wouldn't be anyone there. Unless the hurried departure earlier was because. Hell, just call the number.

Lorne finished off his drink and called the number.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Fred, honey. It's Lorne. I'm calling from a cell and the battery's nearly flat."

"Okay. Hang up now. I'll *69 and I'll try to get Angel, again. If I get through, I'll get him to call you back. Okay?"

"Sure, bye."

A couple of minutes later the cell phone rang again. "Angel?"

"Sorry, Lorne. It's just Fred. I tried getting hold of him, well, any of them, but they must all still have their phones switched off so they don't interfere with the helicopter's electronics and stuff."

"Any of who, and what helicopter?" Lorne asked.

"Angel, Gunn and that girl Buffy that used to be dead and her boyfriend and this other girl Willow from Sunnydale. They borrowed a helicopter. Buffy's boyfriend said he could find where they were keeping you. They've been gone hours now. I thought they might have got there by now. Actually, they really should be there. Look, I'm going to go now. Help's on its way. Get someone to call back when they get there."

Lorne cut the connection and heaved a sigh of relief. Help was on its way. If Fred was right they had to be here soon. The flight had only taken just over an hour on the way here. Even if they were in a slower machine, if they had been gone hours they had to be close.

Lorne concentrated as hard as he could on blocking out the sounds the kids were making, trying to focus instead on any sounds coming from outside. It could just be wishful thinking, but he was sure he could hear the sound of helicopter rotors in the distance.

"Everybodyyyyy! Shut up!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

All other sounds in the cabin stilled to nothing. It was unmistakably the sound of a helicopter's rotors. Unfortunately, Lorne was almost certain the noise was becoming fainter, rather than louder.

In the cellar, the clock reached zero.

 




 

"I'm telling you it's there," Spike insisted.

"And I'm telling you there's no way anybody could land there. The slope's too steep and there's too much tree cover," the pilot answered.

"Look, Spike. I think you've got turned around a bit. It's easily done." Angel tried to pacify the irate vampire. "You said yourself the place was the size of a small hotel and it was on a plateau half way up a cliff face. If there was anything like that round here we'd have found it by now."

"Balls to easily done. That peak was to the south-west, and that river down there was at the foot of the cliff."

"Then how come you've made us go up and down this stretch of river five times now and we ain't seen nothing?" Gunn asked, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender when the younger vampire gave him a glare that would cut glass. "Just saying."

"Look, we're going to have to head back now to that bit we saw near the fork in the ravine and land. There's nowhere to land anywhere nearer and we've only just got enough fuel to make it back there. We brought enough fuel to fill the tank back up. We can afford to poke around for another three quarters of an hour once we've refuelled before we have to go back. After that, there's nothing we can do except head for home. Okay?"

"Sure." Angel answered for all of them.

"It's there." Spike continued to assert, sounding like nothing so much as a petulant child.

"Spike," Willow tried to reason with the vampire. "Is there anything else you can remember?"

"I've told you, already."

"Spike, we would have seen it," the redhead asserted.

"Unless you can't. What if it's like Rack's place? Eh?" Spike saw the first crack in Willow's certainty. "You of all people should know things aren't always how they seem."

"Doesn't make no difference, unless we could see that place right this minute, we'd still have to turn back. You're going to have to go back to your seat," the helicopter's owner told Spike. The blond vamp had taken to standing bent over behind the pilots to get the best possible view of the terrain as they neared the area where the cabin was located (or so Spike kept insisting). Spike returned to his seat and belted himself in as the pilot banked into a turn. Buffy took his hand as he resumed his seat, squeezing it gently in a gesture of support.

The pilots exchanged looks with each other. Heaven knew they were getting paid a lot for this little midnight jaunt, and they'd known that Nabbit was eccentric. Okay, he was barking mad but he had enough money that he was called eccentric. So when he said he'd pay them ten times the normal rate if they took the charter no questions asked, they'd just figured he could afford it. Now, they were beginning to think that there wasn't enough money to make up for the bickering about invisible cabins that was coming from behind them.
 
Chapter 2:05
 
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SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)



Chapter 2.05
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"Look. We can climb to the top of that pointy bit there and then maybe we'll get a signal."

"Buffy, you are not bloody climbing that without a rope or anything," Spike retorted, looking at the near vertical rock face.

Buffy responded by poking him on his right side. "And you're going to go?"

Spike flinched visibly. "Bitch."

"Answer the question. You really think you're in a fit condition to go climbing cliffs, but I'm not," she pushed him.

"Yes, I do. It's a vamp thing. It's what we do. It won't take a bloody minute."

"You really think there's anything that you can do in that condition that I can't match?"

"I can still get a hard on. Like to see you try that one, princess."

"Em, guys? And can I say ew?" Willow interrupted.

"What?" both the blondes snapped.

"Discussion kinda redundant." Willow let her gaze swivel from the bickering pair to the top of the peak. Buffy and Spike turned to see what she was looking at. Framed against the full moon, coat billowing in the wind, Angel stood with his cell phone against his ear.

"See. I told you it was a vamp thing. I could have been up there by now if it wasn't for you arguing," Spike insisted.

Buffy merely rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, right. Can't think of an argument, just go for the eye roll. Thought you were a bit more adult than the Bit. Seems I was mistaken," Spike taunted.

"Seems to me like, right about now, neither one of you would be winning any prizes for maturity, and seeing as how one of you is over a hundred as near as Angel's sayin', that's quite an achievement," Gunn commented.

"Just because I managed not to turn into some brooding stick in the mud with a penchant for Barry Manilow, there's no need to snipe. I'll have you know I pride myself on my youthful outlook," Spike replied.

Buffy wrinkled her nose and looked up to where Angel was still posed heroically. "Barry Manilow? Really?"

"What? Don't tell me you burnt his albums, too, love?" Spike teased.

"He never had any, least not that I saw," Buffy began before Spike joined in, "but then you wouldn't let anyone see your Barry Manilow records."

"Even Rupert had better taste than that. Speaking of Rupert, have you talked to his Right Royal Poofiness about the wedding?" Spike asked.

"Do I hafta?" Buffy stuck out her lower lip.

"Course not, not if you don't want to." Spike turned to where Angel was still apparently talking on the phone. "Hoi! Mate!" Before he could get any further, Buffy administered a sharp elbow in his solar plexus.

Spike sucked in a sharp breath, and then continued as if he'd had no intention of saying anything either rude or tactless at all. "Are you gettin' a decent signal up there?"

Angel gave those waiting below a thumbs up sign. "Tara and Wes came up with the co-ordinates. We've got a precise grid reference." Angel rattled off the numbers, rather perturbed when Spike rattled off the last four along with him.

"Right where I told you lot it was in the first place. But no , certain soulful vampires, who shall remain nameless, wouldn't believe me, would they?"

 




 

Lorne listened to the sound of the helicopter, unable to overcome his disappointment, as the noise grew fainter. In the cellar, the first flames sprang to wavering life. At this stage, the fire could still be smothered with a blanket, or just possibly put out with their carefully hoarded water. It had yet to reach either the bottles and casks of spirits or the canisters of gasoline.

"Okay, people. Sounds like we've missed our chance for now, but if that's who I think it is, they'll be back. For now, we'd best keep on checking this place out." Lorne took charge again, heading back downstairs. "Is there anywhere we haven't looked yet?"

"There's a door in the kitchen that won't open, but I figure it's probably a meat locker or something like that," their chef replied.

"Let's see what our light-fingered friend can make of it," Lorne replied.

The girl in question made her way downstairs and into the kitchen area under the rooms on the upper level. "You really think that was someone looking for us?" she asked Lorne as she drew level with him.

"Well, I'm reliably informed that some acquaintances of mine, including the guy that I was sharing a room with, managed to borrow a helicopter."

The two made their way over to the door their culinary expert indicated. The girl ducked slightly to get a look at the lock before she shook her head.

"I don't think I can get this one. You're going to have to break it in if you're determined to get in there," she told the anagogic demon.

"There's an empty gas cylinder under the bench there," the kid who had been busy in the kitchen offered. "I could have a go with that."

Lorne stepped out of the way as the boy picked up the cylinder in question and began to rhythmically pound the area of the door where the lock was situated. Making a joke of the lack of effect his efforts were having, the kid began to sing in time to the pounding of the cylinder against the door.

"I've been working on the-." The kid never got as far as railroad. Everything happened at once. The doorframe finally split so that the door to the cellar swung open. Lorne knocked the kid to the ground with a flying tackle and the oxygen-deprived conflagration that had flickered and smouldered fitfully, roared into life, sending a ball of flame over the heads of both Lorne and the boy. As soon as the first ball of flame passed overhead, the green demon grabbed at both kids.

"Run." He pushed them toward the main room. He pulled the kitchen door shut behind them just as the first gasoline can exploded. The first explosion was immediately followed by a second louder one, as the rest of the accelerants detonated. The whole cabin shuddered from the concussion.

Lorne made his way to the front door while the other two raised the alarm. Not that even those upstairs could have missed that something was wrong, but the cries of, "fire," left them in little doubt as to the nature of their emergency. Pulling the front door open, Lorne found himself on the wrong side of some seriously heavy duty, steel shutters. There was no way to get at the locks from this side. Lorne frantically scanned the room for anything he might be able to use to pry up the shutters before his gaze alighted on the fireside set.

Rushing over he grabbed the poker and managed to jam it into the gap under the shutters. As he tried to lever the shutters upward, however, the metal bar simply bent in his hands. Yanking it free and throwing it to the ground in exasperation, he turned to find all six teenagers watching him.

"What now?" the bravest of them asked.

"Now we stay as far away from that side of the room and as low as we can and hope that whoever was in that helicopter comes back to check on the bonfire," Lorne told them with a sigh of resignation. He didn't want to mention that since the room under them was already ablaze, there might be a limit to how long they could stay where they were.

Lorne pulled the phone from his pocket again. He cut in before Fred could get any farther than "Angel."

"Fred? The cabin is on fire. We're trapped-." The line went dead, and when Lorne looked down, he saw that the display was now blank.

 




 

"I can do that trance to see spells. You know. The one you did when you thought someone might be using magic to make your mum ill," Willow insisted. "That way I can see what's really there and guide them in."

"Don't you need candles and magic sand and stuff?" Buffy asked.

"Normally, and it would be easier, but I'm pretty certain I can work round it with a bit of time to prepare. And it looks like we've got time." She indicated the two pilots who were using an old hand pump to transfer the fuel from the barrels they had brought into the helicopters fuel tank.

"That works fine in theory, Red," Spike countered. "Only I doubt we can persuade the nice people to believe you when what they can see tells them they're about to hit a tree. And in their position, I can't say that I would blame them."

"Well, I'm sure if I concentrate, I can get them to see what I'm seeing."

"Bollocks to that! I'm sorry, Red, but your track record isn't exactly spotless, and I'm not having you mucking around in the head of the people we're relying on to fly that thing. What happens if they forget how?"

"I haven't done anything wrong in a long time. Well, nothing major."

"So you didn't wipe everybody's memories a month or two back?"

"Well, yes, there was that, but that wasn't my fault. The whole bag burned. If that bit hadn't fallen and landed on the hearth everything would have been fine," Willow argued.

"Yeah, well, whatever went wrong this time probably wouldn't be your fault either. If you muck around with that stuff, you have to take responsibility for whatever happens, not just stand around expecting everyone to pat you on the back whenever you do something right." Spike's voice rose in anger.

"Anyway, who says you have a right to criticise? I'm not the one who turned Buffy into a zombie, am I?" Willow countered.

"And I admit I was wrong. Given the way things turned out, I can't even say I'm sorry, but I'd never willingly put Buffy at risk again. And that's why you're not mucking around in those bloke's heads."

Spike sighed and ran his hand through his currently unkempt curls. "It's not like you need to anyway," he announced in a far softer voice.

Willow responded in like tone. "Why?"

"Cause there's a rope ladder in the back of that thing. We don't have to get them to land, just hover close enough for us to go down."

"You'd rather dangle in mid-air on some stupid rope ladder than trust my magic?" the witch asked, astounded.

"I'd rather dangle in mid-air on a rope ladder than trust anyone's magic. I'd rather dangle in mid-air on a rope ladder over a stack of scrap lumber- no, make that burning scrap lumber before I trust your magic." Spike folded his arms at the end of his piece in a gesture that said, "So there," as plainly in the language of the playground as if he'd said the words.

"You had to open your big mouth, didn't you, boy?" Angel looked out from his vantage point into the middle distance where a dark column of smoke could be seen rising into the air.

For an instant all eyes were fixed on the rising plume. "I guess we better volunteer for pumping duty." Spike was the first to react and edge one of the apparently older men out of the way. Angel jumped from the peak to land on the far side of the outcropping of rock so that the pilots wouldn't be able to see. Within seconds he took up a position opposite Spike, and Buffy ducked between her fiancé's arms to add her strength to the effort. The pump began to move with a speed the pilots found hard to believe.

Willow steered them toward the pilot's compartment. "I think we know where we want to go, now. Maybe you can do all your pre-flight checks and stuff while they finish up with the fuel. Just tell us where you put the petrol cap."

In what was really only a few minutes but seemed far longer, the chopper was ready to go, and the pilots had radioed in a fire alert to the local emergency services.

"You guys know we can't go near that fire, right?" the pilot said as soon as the combined Sunnydale/AI crew began to pile into the machine. This time the pilots didn't wait for everyone to belt themselves in.

"We know," Angel and Spike both confirmed. "Just get as close as you can, and we'll do the rest," the blond told them.

"Am I missing something?" Buffy asked.

"Ash," Spike answered by way of clarification. "If it clogs the air intakes, no more engine. No more engine, and there isn't really such a thing as a controlled crash landing for a helicopter."

"Oh. So, I guess we don't want the helicopter to go near the fire, then," Buffy concurred as the aircraft lifted off once more. "That rope ladder's starting to look pretty good. So who goes in?"

"I think we're going to need all the muscle we can get to open those shutters, pet."

"Or one witch," Willow answered.

"Past comments not withstanding, I'm willing to listen if you've got a plan."

"These shutters are like shop shutters, right? If the locks weren't a problem, you could just push them up?" Willow waited till Spike nodded in confirmation before continuing. "I know this spell. I can't do the whole door, but I can make the areas where the locks are really brittle. One slayer kick, no more locks."

"Okay, Tabitha. You're first down, once we're in position. As soon as we're holding steady, we'll lower the ladder with you on it, so all you have to do is step off at the bottom. Then the rest of us will follow you down. Don't wait for us unless you hit a problem. Just go do your mojo on those locks and get clear. For now, best get trancy and see where we really are, 'cause I don't fancy steppin' off that ladder into thin air."

"And who put you in charge?" Buffy demanded of the blond vampire.

"D'you have a problem with the plan?" Spike asked.

"If I did have, you would know by now. I do have one modification, though."

"And what's that?"

"As long as Gunn doesn't have a problem with heights." The demon hunter shook his head. ".You might as well lower me and Willow together. That way there's more weight on the ladder. It shouldn't swing about so much, and I'm there ready to do the kicking as soon as Will does her spell."

"If I asked you to promise to be careful, it wouldn't do any good would it?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Probably not," she admitted looking up into his dangerously expressive eyes.

"Then all I'll say is think twice before you go rushing into a burning building. Remember, way more people die from smoke inhalation than from being burned, and you've got two people backing you up who don't inhale. Okay?" He reached up to smooth away a stray strand of hair, even though in the downdraft cause by the propeller blades such an action was patently pointless.

Buffy acknowledged the waves of acceptance and support that accompanied the love and concern conveyed in his touch. "I won't forget," she whispered.

The helicopter began to move forwards, and the change in momentum had Spike grabbing for the helicopter's framework with one hand and holding Buffy close with the other as she stumbled into him.

It was too good an opportunity to miss. Buffy grasped handfuls of the leather that covered his shoulders and tilted her head back, so her lips were only inches from his when he looked down to check she was okay. Spike watched transfixed, as her tongue darted out to moisten suddenly dry lips before he softly covered them with his own.

When several seconds of throat clearing failed to produce any effect, Willow was forced to tug on the couple's sleeves.

"Not that I want to intrude, but getting trancy, as you put it, is kind of easier if I have some floor to sit on." She let her gaze shift to the bench seating at either side of the aircraft and then back to the couple's feet planted squarely in the middle of the floor space.

The vampire grinned, mischief lighting his eyes. "You could have just said," he teased as he plonked himself down on the bench opposite Angel and Gunn and drew Buffy into his lap.
 
Chapter 2:06
 
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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)



Chapter 2.06
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Fred tried repeatedly to reconnect with Lorne's, or more accurately, Spike's cell phone. Every time, she was connected to an answering service, which announced that the cell phone she was trying to reach was currently switched off. Finally, she was forced to accept that the battery on his cell had given up.

She decided to try speaking to Angel, again. It had only been minutes since he had hung up. It was unlikely that they would have refuelled and been ready to move on so quickly. She really wasn't sure exactly what Lorne had actually said. The signal had been breaking up so badly, but it was the desperation in his voice that had really worried her.

Lorne wasn't given to making mountains out of molehills, but something had banished his normal equanimity, and just maybe she'd heard the words "on fire" somewhere in those few seconds before they had been cut off. She tried to work out how best to express her concerns before she dialled the number. This was going to sound so lame. "Lorne called and he might have said that the bin was on fire, or maybe he said there was gunfire, or maybe I haven't got a clue what he was saying and I can't get back through to him because his phone's dead. No, I said his phone's dead."

Deciding that procrastinating was only making things worse, she dialled the number for Angel's cell phone. An all too familiar answering service message was her only reply.

 




 

Spike was determined to savour every last second he and Buffy shared, not because he thought it was likely that either of them would fail to make the return trip, but because, however small, there existed that possibility. So, even though serious business was at hand, it wasn't enough to stop his hand from straying underneath Buffy's coat to brush against the soft flesh of her midriff where her top didn't quite meet her jeans. He still inhaled the perfume of her shampoo, filing it away with his memory of how she felt, sitting on his left thigh, her back to his chest, her head resting to one side and just slightly below his. He memorised her mood, how her emotions were mirrored back to him through their skin; the determination to do whatever needed to be done to save those in danger, impatience to reach their destination and concern that he suspected was directed at him as well as at those trapped in the burning building.

He whispered the three words he'd found himself saying so often in the last week, his lips brushing against her hair. "I love you, my slayer."

Buffy tilted her head back to search his face. Normally, use of her title was a sure sign that Spike was looking for a fight, either verbal or physical. Instead, his tone held only pride. His touch told the same story, though it also betrayed a proprietorial side to the pride that she suspected he would rather have kept hidden, or maybe not, given his choice of wording.

She knew she should object to the concept that she belonged to him, but hadn't she promised him just that. His attitude wasn't politically correct, but it was honest and passionate and maybe it was something to do with the bond but it was the same way she felt about him.

No, what was important was that Spike loved her, even when her duty took precedence over him and their relationship. He didn't worry about being eclipsed. He didn't try to change who she was, or how she did things, other than a request that she not take unnecessary risks. She knew that he would be there to support her, if she needed him. She knew, if she didn't, he could stand back and watch her work, content to know that she was his girl. There was an element of egotism in there. This incredible girl is with me. I'm the one she goes home with at night. Nevertheless, it was vastly outweighed by his feelings for her.

Riley had accepted that she was the slayer, at least to begin with. Spike loved that she was the slayer. Okay, so maybe not the part where she killed his friends, but he loved that she was stronger than him. He loved that she could take charge. He loved her because she was something more than ordinary, not in spite of it. Perhaps for the first time, having that affirmation as a constant in her life allowed her to love those qualities in herself as well.

Buffy processed all this in a fraction of a second. She still had more of a problem saying the words than he did, especially in front of an audience including her ex. Not that he was any old ex. He was the only man she'd fantasised about marrying, but Spike was the man who she was going to marry.

"I love you, my... " she whispered before returning to her normal voice, which thanks to the engine noise probably still wouldn't be heard by either Willow or Gunn. "Okay, I'm trying to think of one word to tell you what I'm thinking, but it's kinda busy in here and I don't think there's one word that can say all that. How about we add this to our list of things to discuss? Later? In private?"

 




 

Lorne couldn't see all of the kids any more, only the ones immediately next to him. Smoke permeated the building, coming up from the cellar through gaps in the floorboards and billowing down from the upstairs corridor. The floor was uncomfortably hot, but there was nowhere else to go. The bedrooms weren't an option. They were above the worst part of the fire. When last he'd been able to see the far wall that separated off the reception room from the kitchen, it had still been containing the blaze, but it had looked as if the bedrooms above had caught fire. Sometimes, they would hear rumbling crashes that Lorne thought were probably caused by bits of the upper floors collapsing.

Every few minutes he got the kids to sound out by the numbers, listening for the missing link that would tell him the first of them had passed out or maybe fallen through to the cellar.

In the midst of all the noise, he tried to listen for the sound of the helicopter's return, but it was hopeless. But then wasn't that Angel's job, helping the hopeless.

 




 

The helicopter made a wide circle round to end up upwind of the fire. As they moved in as close as they dared the view in front of them suddenly wavered. It was as though they had punctured a bubble around the cabin, letting them see it as it really was. What had previously looked like a fairly steep wooded slope resolved itself into a cleared plateau with an even steeper cliff behind it and a large burning wooden cabin a little over a hundred yards away in the lee of the cliff.

The two pilots stared at the scene before them with some surprise. Then one of them came to a decision.

"This is real, right? This is what you all were talking about before?"

"Yeah, this is the real deal," Buffy assured him.

"Well, I figure if we put down over here then you won't all be needing that ladder." No sooner had he voiced the thought than he put it into action, though Angel reckoned he'd been pretty damn careful setting down until he was sure the "ground" was going to take the chopper's weight.

The pilot had one last word of warning before his passengers disembarked. "I might have to take off again if the wind changes. Head upwind and you'll find me."

"Don't worry. We'll find you," Buffy assured him.

 




 

Even though there was nothing they could do until Willow got there, it was impossible for either Buffy or the vampires to resist the urge to get to the burning building as quickly as possible. Buffy was slightly faster, but Spike had the advantage of knowing exactly where he was going.

As it turned out they made it to the front door of the building at almost exactly the same time, with Angel just a couple of seconds behind. "Think we can force it before Red gets here?" he asked Buffy before holding a hand up near the shutters. Only when he couldn't feel any significant heat radiating from the metal, did he first risk a tentative touch and then thump loudly on the metal.

"Anybody home?" he called loudly.

Three answering thumps sounded from the other side of the shutters.

"We'll get you out of there soon. Just hang on a bit longer," Buffy shouted. She bent to grasp the lip at the bottom of the shutters and both Angel and Spike did likewise. They strained to lift the metal, but it soon became apparent that they weren't going to have any luck and they were reluctant to try kicking the shutters in, at least not until Willow tried her spell. Fortunately, she and Gunn arrived before Spike's patience ran out.

The witch took only seconds to observe the position of the locks, before she uttered the command.

"Fragilus."

"That it?" Spike asked as on either side of him Buffy and Angel executed front kicks to the locks, which shattered as if they were made of thin glass.

Spike shrugged, the answer to his question now superfluous. Reaching down, he grasped the bottom edge of the shutters and yanked them sharply upwards. Looking down, he discovered he was knee to face with his favourite green demon. Of course, if pressed he'd be compelled to admit he didn't know many other green demons, but just the same.

He reached down and gripped Lorne by the elbow, pulling him to his feet and out of the building. Angel was there to help the first of the kids out, steering them toward Gunn and then going back as Buffy and Spike also took turns to help the youngsters to crawl the last few yards to freedom.

Lorne was just beginning to think the nightmare was truly over when there was a loud crash from inside the building. Looking round he counted three girls and two boys. The kid who'd played chef was still missing.

Rising to his feet he tried to get to where he could see through the entrance into the building.

"Michael?" he called out, but no answering shout was heard.

Angel tapped Gunn on the shoulder and then held out his hand. "You and Willow get these guys to the chopper."

Gunn pressed something into Angel's outstretched palm and began herding the teenagers and Lorne toward the area where they had left the helicopter.

Angel could tell from the body language that Buffy and Spike were steeling themselves to enter the burning building, using some strange private code.

"Ready, Randy?"

Spike nodded in affirmation. "Ready, Joan?" The pair were just about to clasp hands and brave the smoky atmosphere when Angel stepped between them

"You're injured. You need to breathe," he told them, pointing first at Spike and then at Buffy. "And I have these." He held up the pouch containing the orbs of Nezzla Khan. "I win. Stay close. He might need CPR when I get him out."

Both the blondes looked as if they were about to argue, but then Buffy shrugged as she watched Angel's retreating back.

"He's got a point," she conceded.

"Yeah, so how come you didn't pay attention to it when I made it?" Spike teased as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, so that they could both watch for Angel's return.

"You weren't invulnerable, and I wasn't going to let you go in there on your own." As the seconds ticked by with nothing to show except more smoke billowing from the doorway and from the back of the building both of them grew more tense.

Buffy tilted her head back. "If he shouted for help you'd hear him, right?"

"I'd hear. Wouldn't necessarily tell you," he teased, "but I'd hear."

"Can you hear the kid?" she asked.

"'Fraid not, pet. I guess he got knocked out when the floor gave way."

 




 

Angel lowered himself into the cellar through a hole where the floor had given way. He made his way tentatively through the precariously stacked debris in the basement, keeping his arms up to shield his face instinctively when he had to duck through the flames, even though he knew it was unnecessary.

One false move could cause his footing to give way or send burning debris scattering around the room. Logic told him that the missing teen should be near the main door, and he searched mostly along that front wall, clearing away chunks of burning debris, until finally he found what he was looking for. Angel pulled the belt from his trousers and slipped it through the loops in the leather pouch that held the orbs before fastening it round the kid's waist.

Whatever happened now, the kid wasn't going to get any worse. Scooping the teenager over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, Angel scrambled onto the remains of the piano, which had fallen through to the cellar, its weight too much for the weakened floorboards. Checking briefly round the hole in the floor he could make out Spike and Buffy's voices not too far away. Using them as his guide, he decided to go for speed rather then caution. He leapt from his perch to the floor above, landing well clear of the hole's edge and seconds later he emerged through a curtain of billowing smoke into the fresh night air.

Even as Angel bent over to lay the kid at Buffy's feet so that she could check him over, Spike was sweeping off his precious duster, using it to smother the few smouldering embers that had landed on the older vampire. He cast a critical glance at the parcel that decorated the teenager's waist.

"All well and good the kid being in one piece if you turned into a Roman candle before you got him out of there, ya daft ponce." Spike's tone belied the harshness of his words. He shook his head in disbelief at his grandsire's actions, before sliding back into his coat. Spike concentrated his attention on the youth lying on the ground. He was breathing, albeit slightly erratically and he had a pulse. Spike was pretty certain that other than that, there wasn't much that Buffy was capable of checking.

He scooped the kid into his arms, determined not to show it, when his battered body protested at the burden. "Come on, pet. Quicker we get to the helicopter, quicker we can get this one to a hospital."

When the foursome got back to the helicopter, they found everyone else belted in and waiting to go. Spike deposited the youth onto the bench seat next to Lorne, propping his upper half against the side of the vehicle while he strapped him in.

"Are you sure it's good for him to be strapped in like that when he's unconscious?" Buffy asked.

"As opposed to rollin' round the floor like a sack of potatoes? I'm goin' to go with yeah."

"He'll be fine, pumpkin," Lorne assured her. "The pilots have warned the local hospital that we're on our way. They're going to have a trauma team waiting.

And as soon as we've dropped the little darlings off, we can head home so I can have a bath in privacy and a good stiff drink or two."

'Now,' thought Spike, glancing over to where Buffy sat opposite him. 'There's a couple of ideas I can't argue with .'

A/N: Okay, this chapter marks a departure for from the norm for me. I decided I was too rough on Angel in general. (It's just so easy.) This chapter was by way of making up for that a bit, a deliberate attempt to make him look downright heroic. So what I need to know now is: Did I pull it off?

 
Chapter 3:01
 
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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 3 - FAMILY TREE

...This is the time and place
To bring out our memories
It’s written on every face
I can see it in you
You can see it in me

In all the years we had
As part of a family tree
We knew the good and bad
I can see it in you
You can see it in me...

...It’s time to leave all that behind
It’s time to lay that ghost to rest
We can’t deny the ties that bind
Tonight we’re going to sing out
Tonight our light will shine

(Gerry Rafferty, Album - Night Owl)



Chapter 3.01
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Spike knew he was making a tit of himself, the way he couldn't stop staring at the vision that confronted him from the opposite side of the helicopter, but he couldn't bring himself to care. So what if he was staring at Buffy? She wasn't complaining, and he didn't see it was anybody else's business.

Given his preoccupation, the noise of the helicopter as they shifted from vertical to horizontal movement and the general bustle of twelve bodies trying to get comfortable in limited space, he was surprised that he actually caught it, but he did. Maybe, something about his shift of concentration caught Angel's attention, or maybe he too had managed to filter out the background noise. Whatever it was, Angel's slight nod was enough to confirm they'd both heard it.

"Hey! Englebert! Why 's your leg beeping?"

"Why 's my.? Ay carrumba!" Lorne pulled up his pant leg slightly to reveal the forgotten lowjack, which now had a little red LED flashing on and off.

"Jesus Christ! Land! Land! Put this thing back down!" Spike yelled at the pilots in a voice that reminded Buffy not a little of a certain Thanksgiving. The blond scrambled to beat Angel in the race to unfasten their seatbelts. Of course, none of the humans were able to differentiate which of the vampires was the winner. All they knew was one minute they were both in their seats, and the next there seemed to be some sort of supernatural tug of war going on over Lorne's leg. Finally, the anklet gave way. Ominously, the on-off beeping it had been emitting changed to a constant tone. Clutching the offending object Angel sped to the helicopter door only to find Spike there, pulling it open for him.

Angel hauled his arm back and launched the electronic tag back in the direction of the burning building. It was still sailing through the air when it exploded in a five-foot diameter ball of flame. Spike spent a couple of seconds contemplating just how lucky they had been before he pushed the door closed, once more.

"Okay, anybody else with any little surprises they want to tell us about, raise their hand now," the blond said in his best teacher voice.

He couldn't believe it when one of the kids, (no surprise to Lorne that it was Donna) actually raised her hand. "Em, I kinda need to go. bad."

The blond raised his eyes heavenward before settling back in his seat. He wiped both hands across his face in a gesture that made him look so tired that Buffy ached to hold him close. Then, he raised his head again and in more typical form told the girl, "well, the door's there, pet. Help yourself."

Buffy couldn't help but smile, even as she unstrapped herself to go ask the pilots how long it would be before they reached that hospital. As she passed, she stretched out an arm to gently ruffle Spike's blond curls.

Spike looked up, returning her smile, but it didn't reach his eyes and Buffy knew that as the adrenaline turned sour in his system and the need for action was gone, his thoughts had returned to Drusilla.

She deliberately bent over, rather than crouching to speak to the pilots, in an effort to distract him. When she came back, instead of returning to her seat she knelt on the floor to Spike's left, resting her arm on his thigh.

"It'll only be ten, fifteen minutes tops before we reach the hospital. Think you can make it?" she asked the girl.

"Think so," Donna responded.

"Good. 'Cause Spike's already told you the alternative," Buffy responded in a tone that brooked no argument.

 




 

It was a somewhat subdued party that started to climb from the car, back at the hotel. As Buffy scrambled out the backseat, Spike took her hand. "Why don't you start pulling our gear together, whatever's left of it, and I'll get his lordship there to take me round to pick up the car?" Angel looked up from the driver's seat where he'd just turned off the engine.

"You sure?" Buffy asked. "We can leave it till tomorrow. There's no rush."

Spike gave her a lopsided smile. "If we don't go home tonight, there will be tomorrow unless you're plannin' on servin' pizza to Bit's bit."

"Is that tomorrow?" Buffy asked.

"Actually, it's tonight," the vampire confirmed.

"Shoot!" the slayer proclaimed her dissatisfaction. She stetched on tiptoe to give him a quick goodbye kiss, except when his arms wrapped around her it turned out not to be so quick after all. "Who's coming back with us and who's going back with Lori?"

Spike shrugged. "Plenty space for anyone as wants to tag along, not that I'd say no to getting you on your own for a couple of hours, but you'll probably sleep all the way back anyway."

"Well, it's not like I can exactly admire the view, or at least not the one outside the car anyway," she corrected herself. "I'll sort out the passengers. You go fetch the car."

Spike looked over to where Angel was waiting. "We might be a while, pet. I think maybe what I said last time we were here, maybe it was a bit hasty."

"Take as long as you need. I'll be here," Buffy assured him, glad that he'd decided not to stick by his words when he'd claimed that he and Angel had said everything that needed saying years before.

 




 

"So? Where to?" Angel asked his passenger, as Buffy made her way into the hotel.

"Well the car's a few blocks down and a few blocks over, sort of that way." Spike gestured in the approximate direction of the motel where he had left it, before looking Angel straight in the eye. "But I think if you know any bars that're still goin' t' be open at this hour, it wouldn't hurt to raise a couple of glasses to absent friends. God knows, if we don't, no one will."

Angel looked over at the blond. "I think I know a couple of places where the clientele will be glad to drink to a lady's memory, and if they're not, we can always make them."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Spike switched on the car's radio and flicked through the stations till he found something that appealed to his mood. Angel vaguely recognised the melancholy track about a lover separated from the object of his affection. If he remembered correctly, it was the lead singer from the Moody Blues, his one solo hit.

"I think I used to have this album," he told the blond.

Spike snorted. "Everybody used to have this album. And ninety nine percent of them only ever played this track and 'Farewell, Thunderchild' because no offence to Phil Lynott but the rest was a bag of shit."

He glanced across to the brunette. "'S not a bad song though." He pulled out his cigarettes and his lighter and lit one up before continuing. "Definite improvement on Barry Manilow." The pair lapsed into silence for a while until Angel realised that Spike was singing along with the radio under his breath. "My life will be forever autumn, now you're not here."

 




 

"A round for the house, bartender, to drink to the memory of my favourite childe," Angel announced, putting down a sheath of neat bills on the counter.

"And another round to the memory of my sire," Spike added another wad of crumpled notes to the piles.

"And if I don't want to drink to some vamp ho?" asked one of the demons at the bar.

Spike smiled a cold smile. "Set them up, barkeep." He looked at the spot in front of the surly demon. "Two of your cheapest gins for the nice gentleman." He raised an eyebrow. "That is what you're drinking, isn't it?"

"I said I didn't want no half-breed, no account vamps buying me drinks. I say you ain't born a demon, then you ain't a demon an' you've got no right drinkin' in a bar like this."

"'S that right?" Spike asked as the bartender set the drinks down in front of the demon. For just a fraction of a second the demon thought that Spike was turning his back on him to talk to Angel. Instead, the blond turned just enough to use his right hand to push the demon's head down onto the counter with more than sufficient force to smash the two shot glasses that had been placed in front of him. Blood, broken glass, broken teeth and alcohol sprayed in all directions, including a few drops that landed on Spike's chin. The vampire's tongue snaked out and licked them off. "I think he swallowed some of that," he looked over to where the older vampire was taking a sip of his large single malt. "What do you think?"

Angel took another sip of his drink and picked up another of the four identical glasses that the barman had set in front of him. "I think," he handed one of the glasses to Spike leaving him a free hand to press the demon's face back into the mess that was decorating the bar, "that I'll be happy when he's licked that bar clean." Spike smiled as his grandsire kept the demon's face pressed to the bar until he began to do just that.

"Anybody else got a problem drinking to a lady's memory?" Spike looked round the bar locking gazes with anyone who had looked as if they might protest. "What about you?" he asked the demon sitting on the other side of the carnage.

"Me? I'll drink to anyone as long as someone else is buying."

"Now, see that's a healthy attitude. Why don't you tell the barman your order? An' why don't you take that order pad of yours, and see what those nice people along the back wall are having? Then you can get yourselves something and we can have a toast." Spike leant over the counter to smile at the waitress who had hidden behind the counter as soon as the bar-cleaning demon had opened his mouth. She had a longer memory than most. She remembered when demons used to talk about the Scourge, and in that piece of history the women had always been a sidebar. So, if Angelus and William the Bloody were back together, it stood to reason anyone stupid enough to get in their way was asking for trouble.

"Okay," she uncoiled from her crouching position and wiggled her way past the two vamps.

"And that's two drinks each. and be sure to tell us if anyone wants to refuse our hospitality," Angel told her.

"Let us know if anyone needs convincing. With any luck, maybe the next one will actually taste better than six month old roadkill." Spike called out after her.

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so I've never been that desperate," the blond pitched his voice so that only Angel could hear it. "Not even when I was in that bastard chair."

"Yeah, well, about that-."

"Less said, the better," Spike cut in before the apology he knew was coming. "Takes two and since we ain't goin' to start talkin' ill of the dusted."

Spike nodded at the now only slightly tacky bar. "I think you can spare a hand to pick up your other drink now." Angel wiped his hand on his jacket a couple of times before he followed the blond's example, picking up his second drink and making for a booth.

"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" Spike opened.

"She was."

"So unpredictable. Every day was like a roller-coaster and a chamber of horrors all in one. You never knew what to expect," the blond continued in a wistful tone.

"You still miss her?"

"Miss the whole life sometimes. But I'd trade every last kill, every last memory of bein' with Dru, God rest her, for an extra day with Buffy."

"So how come we're pissin' away one of those precious days, while Buffy's back at the hotel."

"Because even with the bond Buffy can share my feelings, but there's feelings of her own there as well, and she's glad she's dead. She's glad she won't be pulling any more stunts like this." Spike gestured to his head and to the right side of his chest. "She's downright happy Dru won't make any more like me or Lindsey and she's pleased as punch that that Jamaican bint can rest happy in her grave knowin' Dru's gone. She doesn't like that I'm hurtin' over it, and you could take it both ways and you'd be right. So, I figure, who better than her sire to talk to."

"Did Willow tell you that her and Fred managed to keep her ashes separate?"

"Damn considerate of them considerin'" Spike answered in a harsh tone.

"Considering?"

"Considerin' they're the ones that killed her." Spike ran a hand through his hair before he tipped back the expensive liquor as if it were cheap tequila. "Hell, who am I kidding? I killed her. I turned my back on her and left her to fend for herself. I should just have stuck the stake in myself. At least she wouldn't have seen it comin'."

"Spike, it wasn't your fault."

"You tellin' me that if I'd taken the time to put Dru in the car before I. before Buffy, then she wouldn't still be alive? Wasn't even the slayer. I mean at least there's a bit of dignity in bein' beat by a slayer, but no she gets dusted by some low rent sidekick."

"Hey, we don't do low rent sidekicks," Angel protested.

"So it was one of yours, then?"

Angel shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"I guess. If it was one of yours it wouldn't be so bad. If I had to look at Harris or even Red day in day out knowin' they'd done it, I think I'd just about snap. If it wasn't for Buffy an' Niblet an' Demon bint."

"That's quite the harem you've got there. You know that Quarnoth demon of yours threatened to curse me if you died."

"Good for her. I'm sure you deserve it."

"How d'you do it, William? Every woman in the place was ready to do whatever it took. You know Buffy said if she had to be dead to talk to Dinza then she'd take the old woman round every demon bar till she found someone who would turn her."

"She wha'?"

"She told me I had no concept of what she would do for her mate."

"Yeah, well, I mean I always knew she'd stick up for her Scoobies, just never thought they'd count me as one of them."

"Well, I can't comment on how they got Xander to show up."

"I can take a fair guess. Anya leads that guy round by his dick. I think she could well be part succubus."

The waitress picked this moment to arrive with a tray bearing another four whiskies and some change.

Angel took one of the glasses and raised it in a salute, both he and Spike checking to make sure that all the bar's patrons and staff did likewise.

"To Dru. May she find herself in heaven half an hour before the Devil knows she's dead."

Both vampires polished off their drinks turning their glasses over when they were done and then picking up the second of the drinks the waitress had just brought. This time the younger vampire made the toast.

"To Dru. A true visionary, a lady and an inspiration," the blonde offered.

Only when they were content that the entirety of the bar had raised a couple of glasses to her memory did the vampires return to their seats.

"Well, this lot didn't put up much of a fight." Spike took a sip from his last remaining glass. "D'you think we might get more of a reaction at the one in Santa Monica?"

"We can try."
.
 
Chapter 3:02
 
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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 3 - FAMILY TREE

...This is the time and place
To bring out our memories
It’s written on every face
I can see it in you
You can see it in me

In all the years we had
As part of a family tree
We knew the good and bad
I can see it in you
You can see it in me...

...It’s time to leave all that behind
It’s time to lay that ghost to rest
We can’t deny the ties that bind
Tonight we’re going to sing out
Tonight our light will shine

(Gerry Rafferty, Album - Night Owl)




Chapter 3.02
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

The two vampires headed from the bar back to Angel's convertible and Spike had to laugh despite himself as he heard the collective sigh of relief from the bar's patrons a second after the door swung shut behind them.

"I've missed that," Spike told the older vampire.

"Me too," Angel admitted though he suspected that they missed it for different reasons.

"Come on." Spike's tone showed his scepticism. "It's not like you've ever had to play the fluffy puppy with the demon crowd. Try getting a bit of respect never mind anything else when-" Spike gave up trying to put his life in Sunnydale into words and simply shook his head.

"That's not what I missed. It's. family. Connor's my flesh and blood and still I don't often get a fraction of what I felt in there. Sometimes, it's like he's a stranger. I should have been there when he was growing up. I should know him inside and out."

"Give it time, mate. It's not like you're getting any older, is it? An' he's not goin' anywhere. It'll all sort itself out in the end. There's times when I haven't exactly been the Niblet's favourite person, but we seem to get on okay most of the time."

"That was something else that came out yesterday. Connor said that if you hadn't been there the other night. well, things could have worked out a lot worse," Angel looked like he was trying to find the right words.

"What's with the name game, anyway? I thought the kid was sticking with Stephen," Spike cut-off his grandsire before he could embarrass both of them. "An' if this is going to get all touchy feely maybe we should skip Santa Monica an' just take a bottle back to the hotel. That way we can always get the kid drunk, too. Not that he knew her, but she was his sister. and his grandmother. and his.niece? I mean, that's why vamps aren't meant to have kids, what with all the shaggin' that goes on between all the different generations, it just gets too damn confusin' especially when your great grandma's already your sister. Do you have any idea how much it does your head in when you're your uncle's uncle and his . something else all-" Spike climbed into the convertible as he spoke, watching in amusement as Angel actually opened the driver's door to get in.

"Spike! " Angel cut into the verbal torrent. "I've got a bottle of Bushmills back at the hotel, if that'll do, but you're not getting Connor drunk. He's not old enough to be drinking."

"Jesus, man. To hear you talk in the old days, you were drunk as a skunk every night when you were his age."

"Yeah, and look how I ended up, dead in an alley. So, pick a direction. Back to the hotel or on to the next bar?"

"I'll go with pickin' up the car. That way at least slayer can pack her stuff while we tie a few on. What're you goin' to do with her?"

Somehow even though the change of topic seemed totally random Angel knew exactly what his grandchilde meant. "Dru? I thought you'd want to."

"Hell, no, mate. Hardly the way to start a bloody marriage, is it? 'Sides she made her choice an' thank God I came second, 'cause otherwise I might never have ended up where I am now." Spike looked over to where Angel seemed to be concentrating on the traffic before continuing.

"I reckon you probably couldn't do much better than scatter them in that garden you've got back at your place. That way she's near you an' she always did like growin' things. Maybe Texas'd even plant her a few daisies, if you asked her nice. An' it's not like the cheerleader's got as much to- I mean they all think you're a different person, right? So there's no history between Angel and her for her to be jealous of. When she gets back. Where is she, anyway? Her and her Angel doll. I kinda thought with everything that's been happenin' they might have made an appearance even if it was her day off."

"Spike . Can you shut up for five seconds?" Angel again cut off Spike in midstream before his tone softened. "Cordy went missing just after your last visit. Wes seems to think she's in another dimension. I guess that was one of the things Buffy didn't get a chance to tell you."

"Didn't really have time for much other than gettin' cleaned up and grabbin' a couple of hours kip." Spike shrugged. "Buffy gets nightmares sleepin' on her own since they brought her back and I wasn't exactly up for runnin' a marathon so. no big surprise we crashed out before we had a chance to chat."

Spike found himself watching the brunette, considering what he was about to say next and knowing that their relationship stood at a crossroads. They could walk away after tonight and blame it on the liquor and on losing Dru, or they could take a chance and go beyond what they had been to each other before. "Look, if we can help, we will. Right now, we've got to go home an' look after Bit, an' it's not like you can-. I mean, it's not like Buffy can just leave the Hellmouth to look after itself, but if there's any research the Scoobies can do or if it comes to mounting a rescue party or something."

"You don't have to. I mean you don't owe-."

"For Chrissake, when was the last time you saw me do anything for any reason other than I wanted to? Just pick up the bloody phone when the time comes, or let us know if she happens to come waddlin' back on her own two feet."

"Cordy doesn't waddle," Angel insisted.

"Alright, when she comes wanderin' back. Better? Take a right here." The blond gestured at a turn no human would have been able to make, even with vampire reflexes Angel just managed to pull the wheel round in time and had to listen to the car horn of the irate driver behind him for his trouble.

"Do you think we could have a bit more notice next time?" he asked the unrepentant blond who had turned in his seat to give a two-fingered salute to the driver before their paths parted.

"Whatever. Two blocks down, on the right opposite the diner."

The rest of the drive was completed in silence, but when Angel pulled up alongside the DeSoto Spike seemed loath to get out.

"Go on. Whatever it is, it'll keep till we get back to the hotel."

The blond shook his head, his tousled curls glinting in the moonlight. "It's best if there's no chance of Buffy walking in.

Look, Buffy wanted to be the one to tell you 'cause she thinks I'd cock it up, but I'd rather save her from havin' to do it. You see there's a bit of a problem about askin' you to the weddin'." He took a deep breath watching the other man's impassive features as he clarified their position. "It's not that either of us don't want you there, but Buffy's kinda worried about the watcher. Bit pointed out that. well, it's all to do with that teacher. She's kinda worried seein' you might stir up old memories and take the shine off the old watcher's day, but she doesn't want to just straight out ask him if it's okay you bein' there, 'cause then she's stirrin' it all up herself.

Bit kinda got it into her head that Rupert's just settlin' for second best with the lass he's with now. That the gypsy was the one. Says he's never been that happy since.

Anyway, I reckon Rupert'll probably show up at least a couple of weeks before the weddin' an' maybe we can sort somethin' out. But if not, the old git's more like her dad than that other old git, an' I think if he wasn't happy then she couldn't be either. An' God only knows she deserves to have that one day. So, d'you think you can be patient on this one till we check the lie of the land with old Rupes?"

"Did you think I was going to just turn up without an invite? I don't want her upset any more than you do." Angel brushed away Spike's concerns.

"No, I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew the position. She still cares about you. An' that means she doesn't want your feelin's hurt. It also means, given the choice, she'd like you to be there."

"And what about you? Given the choice?"

"Up until today, I'd have wanted you there for her. Now?" Spike shrugged and left it at that. "Well, now that little secret's out, I suppose we'd best head back to yours." He jumped out of the car, pulling out the keys for the DeSoto as Angel pulled up to the parking lot entrance and waited for him to follow.

 




 

Angel scooped up the tin that Fred had left on top of the reception desk. "Roof?" he asked Spike.

"Roof," Spike agreed, his gaze drawn to where Buffy and most of the others from Sunnydale seemed to be waiting.

"I'll just stick my head in on Connor and I'll meet you up there once you finish." Angel headed for the stairs leaving Spike to talk to Buffy.

"Roof?" she asked as she walked over and took both his hands ever so loosely in hers. Her head tilted back slightly to look up into his face and it seemed only natural for their lips to meet.

"Dru. Figured to scatter her over the garden."

"That's. It seems like a nice place."

"She would have liked it."

"So is this more of the male bonding thing or is this a come with you and be around to hold your hand thing?" Spike smiled at her consideration.

"That depends."

"On?" Buffy raised an eyebrow just slightly as she asked.

"How much whisky you want me to have drunk by the time I get back down," Spike answered with a wry smile.

"I guess in that case." she replied, first dropping his right hand and moving to stand next to him and then slipping her right arm around his waist under his coat before she steered them both toward the lift. Spike was surprised to see the rest of the Sunnydale contingent move to join them as they waited for the car to arrive.

When Lily came up to him and placed a kiss on his cheek before giving him a brief hug Spike could feel a prickle behind his eyelids. When the two witches stepped up as the older demon stepped back each slipping an arm around him at the same time not even his injuries would let him do anything to end the moment.

"We're glad to have you back, Scooby," Tara whispered before her lips brushed his cheek.

A subdued Willow added her piece. "I know it sounds kinda trite but we are sorry for your loss."

Clem simply did that diagonal sort of hug that men do with a muttered, "Sorry, man," and a couple of pats on his back. Lori gripped his hand for a second giving it a gentle squeeze before moving off. As the last of them stepped back, the lift doors opened and the entire group moved in.

Buffy watched him as she felt the wonder that flooded his being when he realised that every person in that lift intended to be there for him, to offer his or her support. She shifted closer in against his side until she could link her arms around his waist. She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "Don't look at me. There's only two that come with the Buffy package. The rest you collected all on your own."

Angel and Connor both emerged from the teenager's room as the group were piling out of the lift on the top floor. Angel still carried the tin while Connor now held a bottle of whisky. "So which way to the roof?" Spike asked. Angel gestured towards the stairwell at the end of one of the corridors.

The procession wound its way through the emergency fire exit onto the roof and round the C-shape of the rooftop until the wind was at their backs as they looked down on the garden. By some sort of silent consensus the rest of the group formed a semicircle around the two vampires.

Angel took the lid off the tin and spoke the first words as he released handfuls of ashes into the soft breeze. "May she know peace." A world of regret tinged his voice.

He passed the tin to Spike, only a little over half full now. "In a windowless room, she could see the stars. In a broken man, she saw a knight." Spike scattered a couple of handfuls in the breeze, but when he moved to tip the last of the ashes from the tin a small hand stayed his arm.

Buffy took the tin from him, saying her own words before she let the last of the ashes stream into the breeze that would carry them down to the garden below. "She gave me my most precious gift, and for that, I will always be grateful." When she finished, she sat the empty tin down on the roof and hooked her arm through Spike's.

Connor took the stopper from the bottle and let it drop onto the roof. "Dru." He tipped the bottle back as little as possible, taking a small gulp that still brought tears to his eyes.

He passed the bottle to the person next to him, which happened to be Lily. The petite demon raised the bottle and toasted Spike's sire before swallowing a couple of mouthfuls. The bottle passed it's way round the semi-circle, from Lily to Clem, Clem to Lori, Lori to Tara, Tara to Willow before it finally reached the three who stood in the middle. Buffy gave the top of the bottle a quick wipe with her sleeve before taking a tiny swig. "Dru," she managed to get out even as her "liquor face" took over, causing crows' feet to bloom at the corner of Spike's eyes as he took the bottle from her. The blond held the bottle up, appraising how much was left as he made his toast, chugging down a good few mouthfuls before he passed the bottle to Angel with almost exactly half as much in it as it had contained when Buffy passed it to him.

"Dru." Angel drained the bottle and let it drop to the ground. Once again Spike found himself being hugged from all directions before the group began to wander off. Spike, Buffy and Angel were the last to leave. The empty tin and the bottle lying on the roof would be the vampiress's only monuments, at least until Angel got Fred to plant some daisies.
 
Chapter 4:01
 
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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)



Chapter 4.01
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"Are we ready to rock?" Spike asked as they strolled back downstairs and into the hotel lobby.

"Hmm?" Buffy was obviously confused by his turn of phrase.

"Are you ready to leave now?"

"Well everything's all packed and sitting in the lobby and I guess you're finished here or you wouldn't be asking, so I'll take a chance and say yes."

"How many have we got?" the vampire asked.

"Just Clem and Lily. Will and Tara are going to stick around and take the rental car back in the morning and then head back with Lori." Buffy transferred her gaze to the other vampire in the group. "If that's okay with you?"

Angel gave her a rueful smile. "I think we've got room."

"Right then. Time we were on the move, pet." Spike turned to the older vampire. "If you've got a pen and some paper, I'll scribble down the number for my place. I did have a cell, but it's gone walkies. Some of Dru's lot probably chucked it, but you know Buffy's number. Chances are you'll catch us on one of them. So ring. If we don't hear from you before, we'll probably be back down shopping a couple of times before the wedding."

"Actually, Lorne had your phone. It's packed up somewhere, but it's flat," Buffy told him. "He was trying to work out why someone had this place listed as TGP."

"Yeah, well, easy to remember." Spike looked slightly shame-faced, but didn't clarify any further.

"We'll be in touch," Angel assured him. "I'll get your numbers another time. I'm sure if I call Buffy's place somebody there will be able to tell me where to call if neither of you are in."

"I suspect you're right," Spike allowed. "Tell the kid we said bye and make sure-." Spike stopped himself when he realised he was sounding like a mother hen. "Later," he told his grandsire before scooping up as many of the bags from the lobby as he could carry and leaving Buffy with Angel. Clem jumped up from his seat on one of the sofas, grabbed the rest and giving Angel a quick wave, he followed his friend. Lily was nowhere to be seen.

"You were right. He has changed." Angel kept his words quiet in hope that Spike might be too preoccupied to make an effort to listen.

"Told ya." Buffy flashed him a grin, and for the first time in a long while, Angel recognised shades of the teenager Buffy had been before her responsibilities had made her so careworn. The smile quickly faded however, and Buffy's expression grew serious. "Look, there's something I need to tell you while Mr Tact and Diplomacy's otherwise engaged. It's about the wedding-."

"You don't know how Giles would take it if I were there. And part of you having your perfect day is knowing it's perfect for him too. So, if we can't sort things out when Giles comes back from England, then it might be better if I don't come."

Buffy's jaw dropped open and her voice when she spoke showed her amazement. "And you're okay with that?"

"I'm fine with it. We all have to live with the consequences of our actions. I've just got more consequences to live with than most."

Lily came striding downstairs into the lobby. "I think best we go," she told Buffy. "I can feel William impatient from ladies' room third floor."

Buffy smiled at Lily's words. "You heard the lady." She gave Angel a brief hug. "Go talk to your son," she told him. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."

"I haven't been. Take care of each other."

Buffy looked back over her shoulder to answer, as she pushed the door open. "We will. It's what we do."

 




 

Buffy waited to see which seat Lily made for before she got in the car, content to defer to Lily's seniority if she decided to ride shotgun, but the older woman chose to slide into the backseat beside her son. When Buffy opened the passenger door to get in, just the sight of Spike looking up at her was enough to make her catch her breath. Her relief at having him back and her love for him hit home like a tidal wave, right along with a whole stack of baser impulses she really didn't want their empathic passengers picking up on. Unfortunately, it was a little late for that.

"Not be guilty. If women wrong to feel for husband, marriage be empty. I feel same when I see husband, from day we meet till day he die. You just little slow." Lily told her.

Spike smirked. "Gotta love these psychic types."

"Just wait till she's picking up on all your deep, dark secrets," Buffy responded as she climbed into the passenger seat.

"The way I feel about you's been common knowledge for years, pet."

Buffy rolled her eyes. Four in the morning was just too late or too early to bother responding to that one.

"Less with the talking and more with the driving, you. I want you all tucked up in bed before the sun's up." Buffy told him.

"Oh yeah?" Spike drawled, his eyebrow arching skyward as he pulled onto the almost empty streets.

"Yeah." Buffy's expression dared him to make more mileage from her confirmation. Instead, the vampire just smiled and told her, "As you wish, pet. As you wish."

True to his word, when they reached the highway and the lanes were empty as far as vampire eyes could see through hairline cracks in the paint that covered the windshield, he pressed the accelerator down as far as it would go.

 




 

"We'll wait out here for a bit. Give it a few minutes. If Bit wakes up when you go in and she wants to see us or she wants to head back home, just flick the lights on and off, and we'll come in. Otherwise we'll just head over to Buffy's and give her a ring in an hour or two."

Spike placed his share of Clem and Lily's luggage by the front door of the apartment. "An' thanks, all of you. 'S been a long time since there's been people that'd go out of their way like you did for the likes of me, droppin' everythin' to come to LA and Marie lookin' after Bit and what all." Spike dropped a kiss on Lily's cheek before he backed away to let her open the door. "I'll see you all tonight. Okay?"

"We'll be there."

"Great. Now I've just got to find a way to tell all her mates without her findin' out."

"She got the parcel yesterday, man," Clem told him. "Gonna be kinda hard to keep it a surprise now."

"Damn. I thought I had time to warn demon bint before it turned up."

"Probably would have, if things hadn't got a bit hectic," the loose skinned demon told him.

"Guess so. Well, even if she finds out now, it's only a few hours before."

The door was pulled open. "Finds out what?" asked Dawn, still clad in a skimpy night-shirt that made Spike resolve to have a word with her about what was and wasn't considered proper nightwear when staying at other people's houses.

"About tonight. And you're supposed to be asleep."

"I'd be getting up in an hour anyway. It's not like it's worth even trying to get back to sleep."

Spike sighed. "I guess we're going to be imposin' on your hospitality for a couple of cups of coffee then," he told Lily before he turned to Dawn. "Go and put some clothes on, pet, and I'll go get your sister. And don't mention tonight. 'S meant to be a surprise."

"She told you about the bathtub yet?" Dawn asked him before he could turn away.

"No, but I'm sure we'll get round to it while we're sortin' out what we're goin' to do with that boyfriend of yours tonight."

"Don't you start. He's already had the lecture from Willow and Xander."

"Then hearing it again won't come as any surprise, will it? Clothes, Bitlet. Now."

"Who died and made you the fashion police?" the teenager asked.

The looks on all three faces told their own story, and the girl quickly back-pedalled. "Right, me, clothes, now. You fetch Buffy." Dawn backed away toward the door leading to the bedrooms while making shooing motions to the vampire to get him to go back to the car.

Spike made a shrugging gesture to the other two demons. "Back in a minute."

"We'll leave the door open," Lily assured him.

 




 

"C'mon, pet. Bit was waitin' for us. Said it wasn't worth her while goin' back to bed."

"Damn. And I thought we'd just sneak back to your cosy, little bachelor-pad and while away the day in bed."

"That's a plan I could normally live with, but seein' as we've got to sort out the eats for tonight, I think we might find it easier at your place. And I think she's becoming obsessed. She keeps wanting to know if you've told me about the bathtub.

Is there something I should know?"

"Just. It'll keep. Put it this way, I haven't sprouted fangs, but there have been some other side effects, but the way I see it, it's nobody's business but ours, but we haven't really had much of a chance to be on our own. And I've got way too many buts."

Spike smirked but didn't comment. It would just have been too easy. He held out his hand to help Buffy out of the car as she finally forced herself to open the car door.

"C'mon, pet. Another hour and we can drop Bit off at school and crash out again."

Buffy took his hand and levered herself out of the car, letting him lock it up after her. "And another couple of hours after that we'll have to start shopping and cooking and everything." She stifled a yawn. "Remind me again why we're letting my little sister date?"

"Something to do with the fact she'd do it anyway, and you not having a leg to stand on if you try to stop her what with you dating the Great Poof when you were her age."

"Okay. Just checking there was a reason." Buffy leaned against him as they walked down the path to the apartment block's main door. "What about you? Did you date anyone when you were her age? Maybe you could tell her she can't see him."

Spike let his lip fall into a pout. "No one'd 'ave me," he teased, making light of the truth.

"Yeah, right. Everywhere we go, you get way more attention than me." Buffy pushed the door open. "You've got to know you're gorgeous, right?"

Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, 'cause I spend hours lookin' at my reflection. An' attraction's a lot less about looks than you think it is. It's about confidence and how you put yourself across an' back then."

"You." Buffy cut herself off as she remembered the dream he'd had when she was trapped in his body with him. "You were way too good for the girls you liked. You still are, but I'm just lucky I realised it before it was too late."

"What d'you want, slayer?"

"I'm not allowed to pay you a compliment?"

"It's hardly an established habit of yours," the vampire responded warily.

"Then it's time I made it one," Buffy told him as she opened the door into Lily's apartment. She paused in the corridor between the front door and the apartment's main room, reaching up to cup his cheek with her hand.

"You're gorgeous. You're loving. You're considerate and talented in bed. Considerate all round in fact. You're loyal and supportive. You make me feel whole. You make me feel like I can do the Slayer thing and the mom thing and the wife thing and the student thing without it pulling me apart trying to be all things to all people. I don't have to pretend to be less than I am, or pander to your ego. Well, only occasionally," she amended remembering their fight on the way back from their last trip to LA. "I feel like there's nothing we can't do together. And maybe I'm not big with saying the words, but it doesn't mean I don't know it, or I don't appreciate it."

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his him one last time before they relinquished their privacy again. "And most miraculous of all," she finished, "you not only put up with my eavesdropping little sister, you actually like her."

"Very funny, and if you were that bothered about privacy, you would save your make out sessions for when the pair of you are alone," Dawn answered from just beyond the living room door.

Spike momentarily debated whether the shock value of telling Dawn they didn't have make out sessions they just fucked like bunnies, was worth the trauma of having to listen to the responsible parenting lecture from Buffy. He eventually decided that while he'd been considering, the moment had passed.

"Marie and Rosa still sleeping?" Buffy asked.

"Pro'bly," Spike answered. "They're in one of the second floor apartments."

"So you don't all live together?"

"Yes and no," answered Clem. "Marie owns the whole block, or she will do once the mortgage is paid off. Mom's got downstairs. It was originally two apartments, but we knocked it into one so that we'd have the big family room and stuff. Marie and me have our own apartments on second and then she rents out the ones on third and fourth. But most evenings we all eat together and stuff, and we're all close by if anyone needs anything, but like. You didn't think I still lived with my mom, did you? 'Cause that would be like lame."

"Honestly, until Spike told me we were coming over for dinner last week, it never even occurred to me that you had a mom," Buffy admitted. "And I know, I know. I just never thought about it."

"Enough with the happy families. I want to know what happened to you all and where you've all been till this time in the morning," Dawn interrupted.

Spike was first to respond. "Where we've been, is the middle of nowhere. I could even give you a grid reference, but it's not like it would mean anything. I'm more interested in knowing when we can expect your whatever you want to call him this evening. And what we've been doing is watching the Poof try 'n' immolate himself to get a kid out of burnin' buildin'."

"Okay, where are the real Buffy and Spike?" the teenager asked. "'Cause he said something almost nice about Angel, and she wouldn't have let anybody else do the rescuing."

Buffy gave a shrug of her shoulders. "He had Xander's orbs. It only seemed fair to let him do it."

"'Cept when he found the kid, the daft wanker put the bloody things on him, didn't he, so that by the time he got back out again he was already smouldering in six different places."

"See, now that sounds more like you talking about Angel." After a brief pause the teenager continued her cross-examination.

"So anything else happen that I should know about?" Dawn did some fishing to see what all the gloom had been about earlier.

"Dru's dead," Spike told her, his voice flat and expressionless.

"And this is good or bad?" the teenager asked.

"Kinda both," Buffy answered soberly, watching Spike through her lashes.

"So what actually happened?"

Both the blondes shrugged their shoulders. "Dunno, pet. We were kinda preoccupied with other things?" Buffy could feel the waves of guilt washing through Spike as he made the comment, but there was nothing she could do to alleviate them.

"She was shot. With an ex-bow. Two times," answered Lily.

"An ex-. Oh a crossbow?" Dawn asked.

"Ex-bow. crossbow. is all same."

"So who?"

Lily looked across at Spike before she answered. Deciding it was safest not to know, Spike made a move for the door. "I'm just goin' to go get some air, have a fag." To his surprise, Buffy came with him.

"Smoking's a really bad habit, you know?" she told him.

"Worse than drinking?" The vampire went along with her teasing tone, his words coming out as a seductive drawl.

"Uh huh. You know people get used to having something in their hands," she told him as they stepped out into the outer hallway. "They get all fidgety without some sort of placebo." Turning in towards him she guided the hand she'd been holding to her breast and wasn't at all surprised when his other hand slid around her waist and then down to cup her ass. Her eyes seemed unable to look anywhere but at his lips as they moved closer, and her arms wrapped around his neck urging him closer still. "And then they need something to suck on." Even as she said the words, Buffy could feel the heat flare between her legs at the prospect.

Spike leaned in so close that she could feel the air from his mouth brushing against her lips as he whispered his reply. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He pulled her close against him so she could feel his erection pressing against her stomach through two layers of denim.

In return, Buffy stood on tiptoe, hooking her right leg around him so that he could feel the waves of damp warmth that emanated from her crotch as she pressed herself against his hips. He was supporting both their weights now, and he picked Buffy up and pressed her into the wall.

"Don't think Marie would be too happy, if we ended up givin' Bite-size a show," the vampire whispered as he ground against her, his breath teasing her with his lips' proximity, while still they remained tantalisingly distant.

"Or if we demolish the building."

"We kinda hammered the car going full throttle all the way back. Maybe we need to check the suspension."

"May-be-."

"Jeez, do you guys own shares in Viagra or something? It's like every time you're alone for two minutes you're-."

"Dawn, do not say another word unless you want to find yourself grounded for a very long time."

"I was going to ask if you guys could take me home to get some things before you drop me off at school, but I think maybe I'll walk to school or get Brandon to pick me up."

"Well," drawled Spike, unfazed by her teenage rancour. "If he's going to be hanging around he might as well be useful."
 
Chapter 4:02
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)



Chapter 4.02
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Spike's eyes were drawn to those of the sullen teenager in the back seat. Of course, since he was observing her in the rear view mirror, she had no way to be absolutely sure, but she played up to it anyway. She hunched up her whole body maximising her own discomfort as well as passing on her intended message.

"Okay, Bit. I'm sorry." The vampire didn't sound particularly remorseful, more a kind of low-grade pissed off and majorly tired. "The woman I loved for a hundred years is dead because I walked away and left her, and I had the unmitigated cheek to try to forget about it for a few minutes without getting your say so first. How terribly indelicate of me."

Put like that, Dawn's objections sounded rather petty, but this was a teenager. The one-time key grunted in response. "Sure. And every other time?"

"Every other time, it was because I happen to love your sister and find her damn near irresistible."

"So that's supposed to make it alright?"

"You'd rather I lied to you? You want me to start feeding you a heap of bullshit every time I open my gob, then just say so. I'm sure I can oblige.

You want me to tell you it'll never happen again, that we're going to never lay hand on each other except behind locked doors, then I can. It'll be a damn lie, but if you want the mushroom treatment, all you have to do is say so."

Buffy could see the flecks of gold that swam in his eyes like an early warning beacon, and she moved to intercede. Her hand dropped to rest on top of Spike's as he worked the gearshift, trying to radiate calm to soothe his warring emotions.

"Dawn, now is not a good time to be getting on Spike's case. If you want to discuss it, we can talk about it when you get back from school. For now, just drop the attitude and make your mind up whether you want a lift to school or not."

"I'm thinking not."

"You want to sulk like a little kid, that's fine," Buffy told her. "But don't start complaining because we don't treat you like an adult.

What time's Brandon coming over tonight?"

"I was thinking he could just bring me home after school and stick around till it was time to eat." Dawn knew better than to keep up the sulk fest when she wanted something.

"Not goin' to happen, princess, so forget it." The vampire's response brooked no argument.

"And when did you get a say in it? Buffy's the one that they made my guardian, not you."

"And at the minute that's something I'm eternally grateful for. D'you want your sister to run herself ragged tryin' to sort out some sort of fancy meal all on her own when she's been up all bloody night?"

"What's that got to do with anything? And Tara would help, anyway."

"It has everything to do with it. I can't help her out, if he's around when it's still daylight. Can I?"

"And I'm supposed to have no life because my sister's dating the undead?"

Buffy pulled a couple of notes from her purse. "Tell him we want some time to get everything ready. Go see a movie or hang out at the mall, but don't come back before eight."

"Seven," the vampire corrected. "On the front doorstep at seven, exactly."

Buffy gave the vampire a curious look. "I guess it's seven, then. Something I should know?"

"I told Clem I'd see him later, pet."

"Poker?"

"Something like that," was as much information as the vampire was prepared to disclose.

"Are you hiding something?" the slayer asked.

"Might be," he admitted, as the car pulled up into the driveway alongside the Summers house.

Buffy gave him an assessing glance, as Dawn got out slamming her door, and the vampire made preparations for the dash to the house. "I don't know what you're up to, but I guess I just have to trust you." She leant in to place a kiss as light as a breeze on his lips.

"Stay where you are. I'll open the back door. It's not so far, and it's more under cover and that way the neighbours don't start to wonder if my boyfriend's the next candidate for spontaneous, human combustion."

Spike smirked. "You get a lot of that round here, do you?"

"Not since Xander's demon guy left, but it is the Hellmouth, you know. And then who knows how many vampires have been written up like that? Having said that, our neighbours have gotten real good at ignoring just about anything, so we probably don't need to worry."

"If I still had the gem of Amara, I might be tempted to put that to the test." Spike's eyes darted briefly to the backyard lawn before travelling a leisurely path down Buffy's form and back up. By the time his gaze returned to Buffy's face, she was flushed, and her breath was slightly uneven, and the vampire's tone became even more sultry. "Of course we haven't actually checked what effects Xander's marbles might have on vampire sunburn. Maybe, we should conduct an experiment."

"Can't you even control that libido of yours for ten minutes till Dawn leaves? And I am not about to get down and dirty with you in the middle of the backyard in broad daylight." Buffy barely managed to stifle a yawn, and this seemed to galvanise Spike into action.

"Go on, pet. If you don't hurry up, sun'll be right up before we get tucked up in bed, an' right now I think you're more in need of sleep than anything else."

Buffy couldn't argue, but she still seemed reluctant to leave him even for the few minutes it would take to open the back door. "Promise you'll be here when I get back?"

"Do I look like a mirage or somethin'? You're stuck with me now, love. From now to kingdom come."

"Good." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before finally opening the car door and rushing for the front door as if she were the one who would catch fire in the first light of dawn.

Buffy ignored her sister as the teenager bitched on the phone to the new love of her life. She headed straight for the back door instead. Spike was waiting beneath the shade of the porch when she opened up, their luggage and shopping from the weekend all around his feet. With a tug on his lapels she pulled the unprotesting vamp into the shelter of the kitchen before grabbing and kicking their things until they all lay inside the house.

"Will you stop taking chances, you fool?" she asked him as she stepped into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"Probably not," Spike admitted as he scooped her up, carrying her past her outraged sister and up the stairs.

Buffy gave in. She was too tired to argue, with him or her sister. Instead she let her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing him take charge for a while. When they reached her room, the vampire laid her down on the bed, noting the blankets that still hung over the window openings. He pulled open the drawer where she kept her night things and tossed her one of the black satin pyjama tops he had given her and a pair of matching french knickers. For himself, he pulled a pair of pyjama bottoms from another drawer.

He quickly stripped off his clothes, deliberately staying on the far side of the room from Buffy until he was covered up again. More than they needed sex, they needed to sleep and to talk.

Buffy watched Spike as he undressed, his back turned toward her. She loved watching the muscles play across his back as he moved. She was so transfixed she didn't even notice the extent of the healing his body had undergone, even in a few hours. She knew he was keeping his distance and she knew why, and she smiled to herself, wondering how she could have ever not been able to see this man for what he was. She moved tired hands to strip off layers of smoke stained clothing, suddenly realising that they hadn't changed since they had been at the scene of the fire.

"We're all grubby. We should have a bath or something."

"Later, love. You need some sleep," Spike assured her.

"But the bedding-"

"Can go in the wash later. Okay?" He tilted his head forward so that he was looking at her through his lashes. "You need to just relax. Everything can wait for a few hours. Even me," he added with a smirk.

Buffy had only got as far as slipping off her coat, and Spike coaxed her out of her remaining layers of clothing, before he helped her into her night attire. When he was done he climbed into bed beside her and pulled her into his arms.

Buffy turned so that she lay with her back to him, and twined her fingers with his, where they rested against her stomach. His cheek rubbed against her hair, and she relaxed in his arms. Her body fitted so perfectly with his, that in minutes they were both fast asleep.

 




 

Spike walked the rain-soaked streets of New York. In his arms, Buffy smiled as he pointed out the landmarks, not those of the tourist's city, but those of someone who had spent long years there. The clubs and pubs he had frequented. Each one was accompanied by a list of bands he'd seen, anecdotes of a time before Buffy had even been born. And always, just a few yards behind them, Drusilla followed on, because they were her stories, too. Even if Spike never said her name, she was there with every 'we' that slipped from his lips. She followed the couple everywhere they went, yet the two seemed oblivious.

Their ignorance seemed to make the vampiress grow bolder, and she followed them closer and closer. In the midnight shadows of Central Park, they paused at the side of the lake to share a kiss, and the demoness seemed to finally snap. She grabbed at Spike's shoulder trying to pull him away from the slayer. In an instant Spike turned to face his attacker, a stake slipping easily from his sleeve into his hand even as he spun. Her heart was pierced before he even recognised her. Losing his grip on the stake, he tried to hold her, tried to grasp her elbows as she collapsed, but all he was left with was two handfuls of dust.

 




 

Buffy awoke with a start, her movements seeming to pull Spike from his sleep in the same instant. Their limbs were tangled together, and it was impossible for one to wake without the other. Buffy rolled over to watch her vampire as he came to. She eased back the covers, so she could have a better look at Spike's injuries to see if they had improved any since the previous evening. She was shocked to see that the wounds no longer looked fresh but were the bright pink of newly healed scar-tissue. They still stood out against his otherwise smooth, pale skin, but they no longer looked as if they would be painful.

Her fingers reached out to brush tentatively against them, her touch becoming firmer when Spike failed to show an adverse reaction.

"This isn't normal, is it?"

Spike looked down at where her hand rested against his chest. "Not hardly, but I think might be, for a slayer."

"Maybe." Buffy seemed uncertain. "Or maybe, it's a bit fast even for me. Let me see your back."

The vampire obligingly rolled over. This time Buffy ignored the burn scars, searching instead, for the other marks she knew should be there. The puncture wounds were visible only by their slightly shiny texture in comparison with the rest of Spike's skin. She ran her fingers over them. "What happened here?"

Spike shrugged. "Crossbows, I think. My attention was kind of focussed elsewhere at the time."

"And that was about half past ten on Saturday night, right?"

Spike rolled back over, searching her eyes. "Yeah. but I don't see how you could know that."

"That would be the bathtub incident." She looked him in the eyes. "I don't know whether it's automatic, or whether it was because I was trying to do something. You were gone. I didn't know whether there was any way to use the link to try to find you, so I was trying to use some of the meditation techniques Giles taught me, and I guess that's when it happened.

Dawn says I screamed or something, but I don't remember. All I know is by the time I came to, I was lying on the bathroom carpet, and the bath water had a load of blood in it. Dawn said she thought it was coming from me, but when she dried me off, she couldn't find any marks."

"Oh, love, I'm sorry. You weren't meant to suffer because of this." His fingers came to rest against her claim mark.

"I'm not. sorry, I mean. It kept me sane while you were missing. I got a bit of this." Her fingers brushed against his temple and his chest. "And I knew you were still around. Maybe, you were banged up or whatever, but you were still alive."

"And this." He drew her hand through his hair over the spot where the surgeons had gone in to remove the chip.

"Remember that chat we had in your bathroom on Friday. Under the circumstances, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth." She hated the thought that her ex might have bugged her room somehow, but she just couldn't take a chance. "Let's go, get washed up, and then maybe we can chat some more."

Only when the water was running full force, did she lean in to whisper in his ear. "No one knows except you, me and Angel. I haven't mentioned it to anyone, and I don't think we should. That's partly because I trust you enough that I don't think it's an issue, but part of it is because, if we're right about Riley, then once the gang know, sooner or later he and whoever he's working for will know, too. If they ever do come after Dawn, and they think you're not a threat. I guess they'll find out how wrong they are."

"You don't think it's an issue?" Spike whispered between nibbles on her earlobe.

"The way I see it, all it means is you can defend yourself. I believe in you. I think you made a choice to live this life. If you had really wanted to go back to how things were, you would have found a way. You're here now because it's what you want, and maybe without it, there'll be an added element of temptation, but I have faith in you. I have faith in us."

"You know, before I realised it was just you, I thought. I mean I tried."

Buffy placed a finger on his lips. "Are you happy?"

"I reckon I'm about as happy as I've been in the best part of century and a half."

"Then as long as we keep things that way, why would you want to go back to how things were?"

Spike looked at her with wonderment. "You really think it's that simple?"

"It's that simple if that's the way we make it," Buffy confirmed.

"And Bitlet? We don't even tell her ?"

"I don't think we can afford to. It's the old thing about if we trust Dawn, we're trusting everyone she trusts, and right now we don't know enough about the people that might fall into that category to take a chance." Buffy gave a shrug.

"So, that's it. No lectures, no warnings?"

"I think you know what I'll do if I have to. I also think you'd never make me have to do it. So what's the point?"

Spike almost couldn't believe the massive vote of confidence Buffy was giving him. If it was at all possible, he loved her more that minute than he had before, and pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, telling her exactly that.

 
Chapter 4:03
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)



Chapter 4.03
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"Look, I mean I know I overreacted a bit, but we are not talking minor league PDA. He was practically dry humping her into the wall. And her leg was like somewhere it should only go in a yoga class." The teenager sucked a mouthful of her diet coke through a straw.

"But now you're all not talking to each other," Brandon laid aside his burrito to concentrate on their conversation. He looked considerably less rebellious than he had when he was at The Bronze. His hair was no longer spiky and his nails were bereft of polish. He wore a lightweight black button down with his jeans and New Rock boots. His leather jacket was hidden away in his locker for the day. "This is the same sister and her cool boyfriend that you were so keen for me to meet on Friday?"

"That was before they decided they were going to embarrass me at every opportunity."

"Look, I get that you don't want to be walking in on them all the time, but if this guy's just lost someone close to him, then it could be a reaction to that. Grief affects some people that way, like a reaffirmation of life, or so I'm told."

"Yeah, I know, that's what he said. It's just, like I knew I was being a brat, but like I couldn't just back down either. I mean, he knew I was upset but he more or less just said, 'screw you'."

"That doesn't really fit with how he was acting on Friday. I mean, I know they had that errand to run so they weren't there for a chunk of the night, but I was sure as hell getting a big brother sort of vibe off him when he was there. In a sort of 'mess with her and you've got me to deal with' way, not an 'Orwell' way. He didn't come across like he wasn't bothered about you."

"Well, no. I didn't say he didn't care. It's just, the pair of them, they're so wrapped up in each other, and I know they don't mean to, but I feel like I'm kinda shut out, and Spike was my friend. I mean Buffy wouldn't give him the time of day last year, but we used to hang out."

"I think we just hit what's really bugging you, sunshine. And if I wasn't inordinately secure, I might feel jealous." Those pale, cat-green eyes sparkled with teasing laughter.

"Yeah, right. My Spike crush lasted all of five minutes."

"So you admit there was crushage?"

Dawn giggled. "That is so of the past. I'm back to the tallish, dark and handsome motif. In a big way."

"Well, hey, if I didn't know how much you object to PDA's I might just have had to kiss you for that." Instead, the youth took her hand in a loose grip his fingers brushing against her palm and sending frissons of electricity through her body.

"With your dad on the other side of the cafeteria?"

"Some things are worth a bit of an ear-bending." The brunette gave a lopsided smile before he continued.

"So, how about we pick up something for the pair of them while we're at the mall, and then maybe you get to mend your fences without having to actually say you're sorry?"

Dawn looked at him curiously. "How'd you get so good at this?"

"Seven years of dad dating on and off. You learn how to meet in the middle without making the big climb downs."

 




 

The water almost overflowed the sides of the bath when they got in, Spike getting in first and then Buffy slipping between his legs, so that when she leant back she was supported against his chest. By silent consent they relaxed in the hot water, barely moving till the overflow allowed some of the excess water to drain away.

"So," she asked, "anything else you want to get off your chest about this weekend while I'm in a good mood?"

"That depends. I'm guessin' you've already seen the worst there is to tell in glorious Technicolor."

"Well, we did get a copy of a short film that would give Hammer House of Horror a run for its money, but you can thank Clem for getting you off on that one."

"Clem?"

"Clem and your musical friend. At least, we came to the conclusion you weren't going along with her of your own accord. Other than that we're still pretty much in the dark. So, if you want to fill in the details."

"Not much to tell. When she started with the holy water, I kinda played her at her own game. Said some stuff she didn't particularly want to hear. Next thing we knew, she drags this bint in and before we could even say 'owt, she just snapped her neck like a twig." Spike shrugged. "They said they had a bunch more. If I didn't give them what they wanted, then they'd just keep doing the same till I did."

"So that's when she got you to do your bit for Masterpiece Theatre?" Buffy asked.

"Actually, that was when I told the pair of them to sod off."

Buffy rolled her eyes and tilted her head back until she could see his face, and then another thought occurred to her. "The pair of them?"

"Yeah, Dru and the bint that owned the place. Least that's what our green friend reckoned."

"Okay, I guess that's an extra name on the Enemies of Buffy list."

"I didn't think any of your enemies lasted long enough to make a list."

Buffy blew an indelicate raspberry. "How do you explain the fact that you're still around then?"

"Well, that one's simple. Fate. Destiny. We can probably rule out kharma, seein' as how I've never done anything that good, but I think you get my drift."

"So, we have Dru and one of her protégées and they're torturing you, and they've killed one kid, but undeterred, you tell them to go away in colourful idiom. So what am I missing? Why were there still half a dozen kids there when we went to get Lorne? Why didn't they just kill them all?"

"'Cause I told them they couldn't use 'em for hostages if they were basically a bunch of happy meals as they were goin' to eat anyway. So next thing we're eight to a room and they're filming their wildlife special."

"And you and Dru?"

"Worst as happened was on the tape, love. S' far as I remember anyways, though there might have been some wandering hands while I was still half asleep." His hands reached up to stroke her face as she lay back against him.

"I guess when they did the spell I passed out for a bit, 'cause next thing I remember is wakin' up in bed with her stark bollock naked, and maybe if I'd been in best of health I'd have more to apologise for. As it was I was too busy tryin' to work out what the hell I'd missed."

"And plotting to kill me."

"That too. Forgive me?"

"For falling foul of a spell that made you forget the last four years? For doing things you didn't want to do, so that some total strangers who you had no reason to feel responsible for had a better chance?"

"But, pet, I did want to do them. I wanted to do them so bad. I wanted to feel that kid's flesh tear between my jaws. I wanted to feel her warm blood in my mouth, and the only reason I didn't do it straight away was because I wasn't prepared to lose you. That and sheer bloody-mindedness. Love, I don't know whether I did those things because I wanted to and the other kids just gave me an excuse, or because they backed me into a corner."

"Then, I guess your mate Clem knows you better than either of us. He didn't have the least doubt about why you would do it.

I mean, I said it was faked, that you weren't like that any more. Clem said you would. He said if your alternative was something that would hurt me more, you would do it in an instant."

Spike shook his head in disbelief. "Reckon he's probably right at that."

Buffy reached up to cover his hand on her cheek with her own. "I take for granted just how much you go against what you are to be who you are. You aren't a monster, but the only reason you aren't is because you make a superhuman effort not to be."

"No, pet, the only reason I'm not a monster is you. You're the reason I do what I do. You're the reason I can do it."

"That doesn't explain last summer."

"Sure it does. You trusted me to look after her. You loved her so much you were willing to trade the whole world for her, but you trusted me to look after her. An' I let you down on the day, but that doesn't mean I forgot what I promised or that I ever will."

"Spike, you didn't let me down."

"Sure, I did."

"Spike, no one wins every battle. Not even that Prince Naseem guy. But you didn't give up, you fought to the end and then you kept on looking after her even after I was gone, and thanks to you, as of this weekend 'Doc' is no more."

"You what?"

"Turns out our Mr Holliday shifted shop to LA. So, we sent Angel's crew in, got the info on how to work round the wards that were messing with Will and Tara's location mojo and then those of us with some grudges to settle, came in and helped finish him off. But if it hadn't been for you, I would never have known to burn his head. He woulda probably just put himself back together after we left and next we would have known he'd probably be getting his hands on that Axle of Python thing and fetching Glory back from wherever she ended up when Ben died."

"I'll take your word for the last bit, pet, though I'm fairly certain that isn't really what your magic doohickey's called. Just so long as you're sure he's dead."

"One less name on the 'Enemies of Spike' list."

"I thought that was the 'Enemies of Buffy' list."

"Same thing isn't it?" the slayer asked, leaning her head right back against his shoulder.

Spike's mind turned once more to Drusilla. "Most of the time, love, most of the time."

Buffy knew she had lost him to his guilt again, and she rolled so that she could lie on top of him with her forearms resting against his chest. "It really wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done except die in her place. The hotel was a sanctuary. Even if the chip didn't stop you, the spell would have. When you all walked in, you were just offering yourselves up like sacrifices. It was just a matter of trying to get you back before the others realised."

"You're rationalising, pet. And emotions don't work that way."

"No, they don't. I still feel like if I'd just come back from college quicker that day, then I could have saved mom. But I don't feel that way as often now as I did a year ago. And in time, maybe I'll eventually accept what the doctors said, that it happened so quick there was nothing anyone could do, but not quite yet. So, I guess that's one more thing we have in common."

That was it. They both knew that no amount of logic could make either one of them let go of their guilt. Nevertheless, it helped just to know that they understood each other.

Buffy debated whether she should tell him about her dream earlier that morning. It had been so vivid she had almost worried it was a slayer dream. However, she knew it was just rooted in her fears that Drusilla's death would somehow manage to drive a rift between them, that Spike's guilt over how it had happened might not allow him to grasp the happiness that came their way.

"What's up, love?" Cobalt eyes searched her face for a clue to the fear he felt coming from her.

"It's nothing," Buffy downplayed her worries. "It's stupid and if I tell you it just makes it more real."

"No walls, pet. No secrets. I know something's got you runnin' scared, and if you won't tell me what it is then it's goin' to make me scared, too."

"It's nothing. Just some funky dream I had this morning. We were just walking but Drusilla was following us, only we didn't notice till she grabbed you." Buffy trailed off unwilling to give voice to the dream's climax.

"And I staked her. She turned to dust in my hands." Spike finished her thoughts for her.

The two looked at each other in wonder as they realised the significance of Spike's revelation, and a little voice in Buffy's head told her, 'Woo, boy, is Giles going to love this.'
 
Chapter 4:04
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.04
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Unknown to Spike, he almost exactly echoed Buffy's own thoughts on the matter. "Don't reckon as the watcher's goin' to be throwin' us a party when he finds out about this."

"It's not like we've got to rush to tell him," Buffy pointed out.

"Maybe not, but I think maybe we're going to have to start keepin' some sort of journal, so that if he needs to backtrack over any of this, we've got all the details and dates."

"Do they put something in the water in England or something? You sound positively watcherly."

"Bite your tongue, missy. The day I join the tweed brigade-."

"Was the day we called you Randy?"

"Very funny. If this water was any deeper that would have earned you a ducking, love."

Buffy gave a mischievous grin. "Who says the water's not deep enough?" Scooting back to kneel at the foot of the bath, she bowed her head to where Spike's erection just broke the water's surface. Spike shivered with sensation as she blew gently on his damp skin. Her tongue flicked out to circle his head as a small but firm hand worked his shaft in long, slow, slick strokes. When she finally took him into her mouth Spike thought he was going to come, the combination of the water's heat and watching Buffy duck her face in the water with every stroke almost enough to undo him.

He reached out to draw her head up, away from the water's surface. Pulling her up his body until their lips met, he cradled her body against his as he plundered her mouth. Only when she pulled her head back, gasping for air, did they part. In that instant Spike rolled them both, water slopping messily over the side of the bath as he did so, before he claimed her lips again. He laid a trail of kisses down her neck and over her breastbone. His eyes watched her face, savouring her every reaction as his lips closed over each pert nipple in turn, suckling and teasing with the tip of his tongue. Buffy squirmed beneath him until finally he let his demon features come to the fore, using a fang to graze so gently over the taut pink flesh that a single tiny drop of blood formed for him to lick off as he changed back to his human features.

Then, with a wicked grin, the vampire whispered his intentions. "My turn," he told her as he shifted back and pushed her knees apart, hooking one of her legs over the side of the bath.

 




 

"Hey, we're home." Willow called out a warning to the house's occupants, half expecting to hear the sound of two pairs of feet heading for cover. The rhythmic thud of the washing machine in the basement was her only response.

"Come on in. It looks like they've popped out. They might be at Spike's place. Em, we probably don't have any milk, any more, or at least any we did have is probably more like yoghurt by now, but we can do black coffee, or we've got some of that cream in a can that you squirt."

"Black coffee's fine. Maybe you can tell me where I should put my things, in the meantime." Wesley hovered in the hall, a large and heavy looking rucksack slung over one shoulder and a set of panniers slung over the other.

"Em. Just leave them in the hall. I think, chances are Spike'll probably move in here for the duration and let you have his place, but it's probably best if he thinks he came up with it all by himself, or Buffy did."

"And you're not bothered about sharing a house with Spike?" the former watcher asked.

"After last night, a little. Okay, a big little, but Buffy trusts him and I trust Buffy, so."

Tara called out from the kitchen. "There's plenty of stuff here. Looks like Spike's been doing the shopping again."

"And he does buy ice-cream and stuff."

"And that would be an irrefutable sign that he is now on the side of good?"

"Works for me," answered the redhead.

 




 

The slayer pulled off the helmet that Spike had insisted on buying her. The vampire did likewise with his only headgear, a pair of mirrored sunglasses.

"Eww." Buffy ran her fingers through her hair. "Sticky. It's too hot to wear a helmet. And it's too tight. It makes my hair go all flat. I need another shower, and you are such a hypocrite."

"Look, love, it's supposed to be tight.ish, and short of my head coming off my shoulders, which a helmet wouldn't do anything to prevent, nothing's going to cause any permanent damage. You on the other hand have a perfectly adorable head that I would prefer remained intact."

"And what if you get pulled over. It'd be just great if you got yourself deported before your fake papers arrive."

"The cops in this town know better than to try to pull over anyone as can flash a bit of fang."

"That is so- ."

The sound of someone clearing their throat made the two blondes look up to where Willow and Wesley were watching from the front porch with some incredulity.

"Bogus," Buffy finished as the witch and the former watcher watched the vampire casually stroll around to eye Wesley's bike.

"Harley. Nice. Thank God it's yours, mate. Thought it was Bit's bloke's for a second. Was about to have a bloody heart-attack, metaphorically speaking. Thought of the Bit ridin' pillion behind some teenage hothead."

"Spike!?" The witch's exclamation came out as half way between a question and an exclamation of exasperation.

"What, Red? Didn't think either of you would need me to draw a diagram," retorted the vamp as he gazed up to gauge the angle of the sun, as if it was something he did every day. "Well, reckon as it's time I made a start on the cookin'." Spike slung an expansive arm around the bemused former watcher's shoulders. "So, is this just a flying visit or are you back in Sunnyhell for good?"

"I think that's what I'm here to find out. I'm planning to stay here for a couple of weeks, maybe check out the property market. If things go well, I fly back, load up the car and hire a U-haul. If, however, sharing The Magic Box with Anya for a day makes my brain liquefy and start leaking out of my ears I may seek alternate employment. And I think Tara's already making a start on the food. She said some of the recipes were book-marked, so she made a head start on the preparation."

"Shoulda known Glinda would pitch in. You got somewhere to stay while you're here? 'Cause if Buffy can put up with my ugly ass around here, you can stay at my place." Spike was already fiddling with his keyring as he looked back over his shoulder to where the redheaded Wiccan was looking to Buffy for an explanation for her sunbathing boyfriend.

"Orbs. Seems like invulnerable equals no sunburn, and since Xander's going to be busy at work all day, it seemed a shame to let them go to waste. Spike'll drop them off tonight, when he goes to see Clem, no big."

"Way big, Buffy, huge big," Willow replied.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Try telling that to Mr Stubborn Pants."

"Pet? Before we start that one again, is it okay if I stay here for now? That way Giles junior can have my place to himself?"

"Sure," Buffy answered.

"Mr Stubborn Pants?" Wesley queried.

"Ask her," Spike deflected. "She's the one as made it up. I've just got to put up with it."

"And I think you'll find that you're Giles junior, as well," his fiancée pointed out.

Spike turned to face his accuser head on, relinquishing his grip on Wesley as he did so. "Balls to that. Nowhere on any of my papers does it say that my father's name was Rupert, so you can forget that one straight off."

"So, just in case I'm ever asked, what does it say your parent's names were?"

"Arthur and Nancy Anne, maiden name Lydon."

Wesley gave the vampire a curious glance as he accepted the keys to Spike's flat. "I get Lydon and Nancy could be real or it could be Spungen, though shouldn't it go with Sid's name rather than Johnny's? But Arthur and Anne sound like they might be real."

Spike shrugged. "Just liked Lydon. Got a ring to it and buggered if anybody could tell you what his wife's called. And if the rest sounds real, it's because they are. And that's as much as you get, Watcher. If I wouldn't tell the old bugger, what makes you think I'd tell someone I've barely met. 'Sides you lot are all too fond of writin' everythin' in your little books for my likin'."

"Little books like you wanted to start writing?" Buffy asked archly.

Spike drew her a dirty look. "Pet, how about, since you're not goin' to be busy in the kitchen like some of us, you take Wes here across to the flat to drop his stuff off and pick me up some changes of clothes? Take the scenic route and get him reacquainted with some of the sights and sounds of Sunnyhell. We'll have plenty to keep us busy here for a while, I reckon."

As the door swung closed behind Spike and Willow, Buffy looked across at Wes. "Why do I feel like we've just been got rid of?"

"Maybe because all my things are still on the other side of the door that just got shut in our faces?"

A second later the door opened again and Spike cheerfully deposited Wes's things on the doorstep and pulled Buffy into his arms for a kiss. "See you in an hour or so, pet. You could take Wes to that pub we went to on Friday, reckon he'd like it."

Buffy stood on tiptoe to give him a peck on the cheek, whispering in his ear at the same time. "I got the message the first time."

"Good. And take your helmet. Can't be too careful."

Buffy waited for Wesley to kick-start the hog, before she scrambled on behind him. As they rode away, Buffy couldn't help thinking that the vampire was up to something and it wasn't just cooking, or giving her and Wes an excuse to get out of range of any listening devices.

And sure enough, before the sound of the Harley's engine had even faded into the distance, Spike had inducted the witches into his little conspiracy. By the time Buffy and Wes reached Spike's apartment, on the other side of what was, after all, a one Starbuck's town, the vampire was already replacing the handset after phoning Anya at the Magic Box. By the time Wes and Buffy were drinking coffee at a remote roadhouse, Spike had all his plans set firmly in motion and had settled in to see how he could help Tara in the sun-filled kitchen.

 




 

"Well, I guess that covers everything, except one question."

"And what's that?"

"Mr Stubborn Pants?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "A certain person who shall remain nameless, refuses to even contemplate the prospect of asking Xander and Anya If they'd mind an exchange on the wedding gifts front."

She put on an extremely poor copy of Spike's drawl. "'Cause those things are meant to save Demon Bint from worryin' 'bout Harris getting' bashed to bits and I'll not have anyone sayin' I'm some damn Indian giver. Gave them to the boy, and they're his now, end of story." Giving a sigh, she let the accent lapse. "And then we got off on this whole new argument about how there isn't a PC term that means the same as Indian giver and how Spike wouldn't use it even if there was and where the term derived from and whether it was Native American Indian or Indian from India.

If he had something he calls a good reason, he might borrow them, but he refuses to ask for them back." She shrugged. "Like I say, Mr Stubborn Pants."

"I must say it seems to rather contradict all the effort he went to, looking for the Gem of Amara and then trying to wrest it from Angel."

"But he didn't give that to Angel, so if he could take it from him it was fair game. At least, that seems to be the way Spike logic works.

So, question for you. Weren't you supposed to be going through the junk at the junk shop?"

Wes shrugged. "Well, I had a skim through this morning before we left and confiscated some of the more obvious items, but when I spoke to Rupert on the phone, he intimated we might be able to reach some sort of financial arrangement regarding any items that he could use for stock. He thought if I spent a couple of days with Anya in the shop, I then might be able to cover for her while she retrieves any items she wants for inventory."

"Can I give you some advice? Settle the money side with Giles. If Anya gets involved you're guaranteed to get a. tougher deal." Buffy hesitated trying to find a diplomatic way to describe Anya's business acumen before she changed topics.

"Look, there's something else. I think Spike was hinting at me to tell you. Of course, if I'm wrong. but never mind. I would talk to Giles about it, but we really don't have a way to speak to him that can't be eavesdropped on .upon? Whatever? Anyway. What it is, is that ever since we made the claim mutual, we've been sharing dreams.

Friday night, Saturday morning we both dreamt about mom. Yesterday, when we got Spike back and we caught some sleep at the hotel, it was my buried alive dream, but he was buried underneath me? Sort of separate coffin, same plot, you know? Only he figured it was something to do with Dru, that if Fred hadn't woken us he would have got to where she was waiting for him as he clawed his way out. So, he didn't say anything, and I didn't say anything because like since... I mean he says he used to get the coffin dreams, too, when he was first turned, but it had been years since he'd had one, but with Dru being like five minutes dead he just chalked it up to stress and maybe because I'd mentioned I'd been having them, like it put the idea in his head.

Then, this morning we both had this dream, like he was showing me round New York, showing me places he used to go and stuff. And, Wes, he told me things I didn't know. I've never been to New York, right? And we're not talking tourist sights, unless you count Central Park in the middle of the night, which I kind of gather isn't somewhere most tourists would want to be, but the places he took me in the dream, they're real. Spike can't vouch for how many of them are likely to still be standing, but they were how he remembers them."

"And while he was held prisoner?"

"Same old recurring yada, yada, yada, no Spike. But every time since the claim that we've fallen asleep in the same room. same dreams."

"And you say, there were things he told you in the dream that you had no way to know? What about when you dreamed about your mother? Was there anything to suggest the dream originated in your memories rather than his? For example, what was she wearing? Was it a real outfit? Could Spike have seen her wearing it?"

"Wes, it was a dream and it was." Buffy counted off the days on her fingers. "Three and a half very long days ago. I couldn't really remember what I dreamed about until we sat down to work it out and Spike said he remembered he dreamed about mom 'cause he woke up in a good mood. But even he doesn't remember any details, and I wouldn't be surprised if Spike knew mom better than I did.

He loved her, you know. And he's so intuitive with people. He picks up on the least little thing. I mean, sometimes when he was down, he'd bring out the mothering instinct, but sometimes I'd come in from school and he'd be sitting round the kitchen with her and Dawn and the three of them would be laughing their heads off, and I'd feel like I was the outsider. I guess what I'm getting at is that him and mom could talk like equals, so he got to see all of her, while I got Joyce the mom."

"I didn't realise Spike had known your mother so well. I thought your relationship was a recent thing?"

"Our relationship's been around a long time, it's just done a one eighty degree shift over the years, but he'd been mooching cocoa from my mom for years before he was even chipped. I just wish."

Buffy shook her head. It was no good wishing that her mom could be here or that Spike could have had some sort of reconciliation with her before she died.

She drained what was left of her coffee before picking up her helmet and wrapping herself in the folds of her thick leather coat.

"Come on, our hour is up."

 




 

Dinner was ready. All that everyone was waiting for was the arrival of Dawn and the guest of honour. Tension was thick in the air as the group waited expectantly. Wes's gaze flicked to watch the vampire's face as they heard the sound of an engine approaching the house and then being cut off. The former watcher saw the gold flecks that flashed in the vampire's eye before he stormed off to the kitchen. Buffy exchanged puzzled glances with Tara and Willow, before she pushed her concern over the vampire's unpredictable actions to one side, to go and greet their guest. Wes never got the chance to explain that the distinctive sound of a two-stroke engine was enough to tell both the men in the room that the vampire's nightmare scenario from this afternoon was coming true.

It was her sister shaking her head and fluffing her hair as she passed her helmet back to her date, that told Buffy the good news. Buffy scanned her sister's clothing, taking in the lack of padding on knees and elbows. Her mouth thinned in a disapproving line before she could cover up with what was now a patently false smile of greeting.

"Dawn, Brandon, why don't you come in? We're all ready to start as soon as you're settled in."
 
Chapter 4:05
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)



Chapter 4.05
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"Dawn, why don't you hang up your jackets and show Brandon through to the dining room? I'll send the others through from the living room and see what Spike's up to in the kitchen." Buffy ushered her sister and her date into the house before going in search of her fiancé.

On entering the kitchen, Buffy eyed the messily dismembered chicken carcass and the meat cleaver embedded half an inch deep into her mom's old wooden chopping board on the kitchen island. The back door was ajar and Buffy wasn't remotely surprised to find the vampire pacing the back porch with a lit cigarette in one hand and the bottle of wine, which had been supposed to go with the meal, half empty, in the other.

"I thought you were going to baste that chicken with garlic butter and roast it whole for dinner tomorrow."

"Well, I guess now we're having casserole." Spike's reply was half way to being shouted and was positively doused in sarcasm.

"Unless you know any recipes for minced chicken, in which case I can have a go, too."

Spike ran out of porch and turned. Somehow, his anger receded at just the sight of this tiny woman.

"So?" Buffy asked softly. "What do we tell her?"

"I don't know." Spike ran his cigarette hand through his hair, too preoccupied to even realise what he was doing. "I thought I didn't get a say in the matter."

"I'm asking your advice. How do I tell her I don't want her on that thing when she knows I've been on yours? Especially if they see you drinking. And if they realise you don't even own a helmet."

"Do you think I'd be taking my frustration out on dead birds if I knew the answer to that one? Way I see it, about the best we're going to get away with is making sure she's got the proper protective gear and making sure he knows I'll tear him limb from limb if she gets hurt because he's being reckless in any way."

Buffy belatedly realised that this time Spike had decided not to turn when he reached the front edge of the porch. He made his way around the side of the house and Buffy set off in pursuit.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she jogged slightly to catch up.

"Goin' to check the tyres 'n' stuff on that bike. If anything on that bike isn't road worthy, I'm not goin' to wait to string him up."

Buffy watched in horror as Spike flicked away his half finished cigarette and produced a pocket knife as he drew level with Brandon's bike. He sat the wine bottle down on the path next to the bike and opened up the blade.

"Spike!" she hissed, suddenly afraid of attracting attention from the dining room. "You can't just trash his bike!" She ignored her own inner voice adding, 'not even if I really want to.'

The demon twisted his neck back to look at her, eyebrow raised and one corner of his mouth turning down just slightly. It was his patented, 'What do you take me for?' look.

"Relax, pet. I'm just going to check the tread on his tyres."

"With a knife?"

"Since I don't happen to have anything else that'll fit between the treads on me, yeah, with a knife."

"Is that wi-." Buffy redirected her own half-asked question to herself as she realised that she was provoking a volatile master vampire who was already out of sorts and holding a knife. "Okay, shutting up now." She twisted the fingers of one hand in front of her mouth in a locking motion.

Buffy watched as the vampire, poked around at the tyres and sniffed around the bike. She panicked slightly when he took it off its stand and started bouncing slightly on the seat, but when he merely grunted and stuck the bike back on its stand, she figured Brandon was off the hook for now.

"So?"

"Tyres could do with replacing in the not too distant, but if it was me, I'd probably push them for another couple of hundred miles. No oil leaks or anything. Brake blocks aren't worn. He's adjusted the suspension for carryin' two, but hasn't bothered puttin' extra air in the tyres. For goin' to the mall and back, I'll let him off. If he was ever planning on taking her on a proper run I'd check he'd pumped them up a bit."

"So all in all it's not a death-trap."

"The bike's in good nick. Whether it's a death-trap depends on how he handles it, doesn't it? And you'd best give Bit one of those spare cells and make sure she keeps it on her and charged. Thing doesn't have a fuel gauge."

Buffy gave him a puzzled look. "So how do you know you're running out of gas?"

"When the tank gets near to bein' empty the main fuel intake won't draw from the bottom inch of the tank. You have to flick that little valve there to reserve and that lets you use up the last bit. Now, here's the rub. Say when you fill it up, you forget to switch the valve back, then next time."

"When it runs out, you really don't have any gas left and this being the Hellmouth that could be bad even without the teenage boy in the scenario."

"Bingo. Give the girl a cupie doll."

"This would be so much easier if I could just tell her no."

Spike lit another cigarette and picked up the wine bottle in his other hand before sliding that arm around Buffy's waist and starting to amble back toward the porch. "Wouldn't do any good, love. What happened when your mum put her foot down with you?"

Buffy sighed. "I mostly did what I wanted anyway. Just did it behind her back. or ran off to LA. but I was doing the slayer stuff, not hanging out with boys on motorbikes."

"Sure. You never went out with His Nibs without telling her. Bitty's made from you. What makes you think she'd do any different?"

"Buffy? Spike?" Tara's voice sounded through the darkness.

"We're here, pet. What's up?" Spike answered as the couple stepped up onto the porch.

"Em, everybody's getting kind of restless through there. I think you might want to make an appearance soon."

"I'd better go," Buffy told her fiancé. "Is everything ready?"

"Pretty much. I'll start bringing it through."

Buffy stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his cheek before dashing off into the house.

 




 

Spike bit his tongue every time he wanted to ask a question that made him sound like Hank. Maybe it was because he'd been on the other side of the interrogation such a short time before, or maybe it was the puppy dog eyes that Bit kept giving him. Either way the kid had got off remarkably lightly, so far. Now, however the meal was at an end.

"Well, I guess it's just about time I can slope off outside for a fag without lookin' too antisocial.

Buffy says you've got a bike, Brandon. Why don't you come with me? That way we can save the ladies from having to listen to us talkin' 'bout all that borin' stuff. Wes?"

"I think I'll give it a miss this time. I feel like I should lend a hand with the clear up," Wes responded discreetly.

"Fair dos." Spike already had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and his Zippo to hand. He strode to the front door making it obvious he expected the teenager to follow.

 

Spike lit up his cigarette, the lighter flame enough to ruin the kid's nightvision just as he'd been beginning to be able to make out the older man's features.

"Right, kid. The way I figure it, you've already been threatened with physical violence at least twice if you don't treat that girl right. So, I'm goin' to just skip over that part.

What I am going to do is make it very clear that any time you take her on that bike with you, you are taking responsibility for her safety. So, if she isn't wearing adequate clothing, it's your responsibility to tell her and to make sure she does. Buffy and I will see that she has the kit she needs. You see she doesn't get on that bike without at least the proper jacket and her own helmet and if you're going any distance I expect you to make sure she's wearing full leathers.

Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, sir. Though I think maybe you need to practise what you preach."

"An' what the hell's that meant to mean?" The teenager got his first glimpse of the vampire's volatile temper, but to his credit he didn't back down.

"It means, sir, if you don't want Dawn hurt then you should work a bit harder so she doesn't feel like an outsider in her own home."

"Balls! Niblet knows I'd do anything for her."

"Anything except keeping your hands off her sister long enough to have a conversation with her."

"Jesus Christ. What the hell has she been saying?" Spike turned and stalked back to the house, slamming the door back on its hinges. As he'd more than half expected Buffy and Dawn were having their own tete a tete, while Wes and the witches kept out of the way in the kitchen.

"Dawn, you had best say goodbye to Brandon now because he's leaving, and when he's gone me and your sis are going to be waiting for you in her room. It seems we need to talk." Dawn made a dash for the front door as the vampire began to stomp upstairs in an obviously foul mood. "And tell 'im those tyres damn near need replacin' an' all," the vampire called after her.
 
Chapter 4:06
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)



Chapter 4.06
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"What the hell did you say to him?" Dawn hissed at her date. "I haven't seen him this pissed since I gave him the slip in the middle of a riot."

"Nothing that didn't need saying."

There was a loud crash from somewhere upstairs in the house. Dawn flinched at the sound. "Okay, I've never seen him this pissed."

"Look. Maybe you shouldn't go in there. I mean he seems pretty violent. It might be better if you came home with me and give him some time to cool off," Brandon offered.

"Not a good idea. Spike's all mouth. The only thing that's in any danger is the furniture. It's best to let him-."

Dawn was cut off by the slam of Buffy's window opening at speed, shortly followed by the bellow of an irate vampire. "Goodbye is two syllables, Dawn. Just say it and get your skinny arse up here now. Don't make me come back down to get you."

"Shit. Look, I'll call later if I get a chance, or I'll see you at school tomorrow." Dawn gave the kid a quick peck on the cheek before running up the path. She turned at the steps to see that he hadn't moved. She made a shooing gesture with her hands and mouthed the word, "go," before darting through the door and up the stairs.

Dawn picked her way over shards of brightly coloured pottery to get into her sister's room. Before she'd even cleared the debris Spike was in her face.

"What the hell am I to you, Dawn?" he yelled.

The teenager wiped a stray trace of spittle from her chin. "What?"

"That's what I'm asking you? What do you think I am? Am I meant to be some male version of Marlene the man-eater? Am I just some git who's walked in an' taken your sister away, 'cause I'd really like to know. Huh?"

"Spike, I nev-," Dawn stuttered.

"Name one proper date that me and your sister have had, where you haven't been included."

Dawn fishmouthed, gasping for breath as the tears started to flow.

"No? Well, tell me who the stupid git is who'll clear his whole day just so he can help you with your soddin' homework. Still too hard for you? Okay, lets go for the real easy question. Tell me the two people in this world who you know unequivocally would die before they would let anything happen to you?"

"Y-you and Buffy," Dawn hiccuped through her tears.

"Then where the hell do you get off telling some wanker you've only known for five minutes that we make you feel like an outsider in your own house? Making us out to be some sort of bleedin' nymphomaniacs. Except when you've caught us off guard, have we ever done anything to embarrass you in any way? For Christ's sake we spent tonight at opposite ends of the bloody table. And when your mate was over watchin' all the videos, we were sort of cuddled up together on the floor but that was it. When we've been at the Bronze we've been so bloody circumspect it made my bloody teeth ache and this is what you think? But you want to know where you really twisted the knife in? When you didn't come to us.

Just get out, Bit."

Dawn stumbled from the room, her sobs now clearly audible. Buffy looked back and forth between the open doorway and the vampire, who stood with his back to her facing the window. It only took her a second to decide. Reaching out a hand to take his, however briefly. "You know I've got to go to her?"

"I know."

"I'll be as quick as I can."

She thought he gave the barest of nods, but she couldn't be sure. Either way she had to go do what she could in the way of damage control.

Spike eschewed the door in favour of the window. Even in his Doc Marten's he moved so quietly that when he jumped from the porch roof to land next to Brandon the boy jumped about a foot.

"I thought I heard Bit tell you to go home."

"She did, but I'm not going anywhere until I know she's alright."

"I say you are. You don't have any part in this. This is family business. My family, not yours, not yet and at the rate you're going, not ever. Now get on that bike and go home and before I see Dawn on it again, I expect you to have replaced those tyres."

Finally, Brandon seemed to get the message that this was one battle he couldn't win. "Okay. I'm going, but if there's one mark on Dawn tomorrow, I'll be calling Social Services."

Spike gave a snort of laughter as the boy climbed on his bike. "You picked the wrong night, son. Come tomorrow, Dawn will be so stiff she can barely walk. She'll probably want a cushion before she'll even sit down. The last thing she's going to be thinking of is going anywhere near the back of a motorbike, but no one will be responsible for a single mark on her except herself and if you ever dare to suggest otherwise, then you will see me angry.

Now go."

The vampire stepped back onto the porch, lighting up a cigarette as he watched the boy leave. Spike hated to say it, but the kid had balls and he was willing to stand up for Bit against a pissed off vampire. Against all his better instincts, Spike actually quite liked him. Once the taillights had disappeared into the distance Spike made his way round to the back porch and took a seat on the steps. Buffy would know where to find him.

 

 

 

"I didn't mean it the way he made it sound," Dawn snivelled. "I love you guys, and I love that you're together. It's just hard adjusting."

"Dawn, I get that it's not easy for you, but you understand why he was so mad, don't you?"

"I didn't mean to hurt him."

"It's not me you need to tell," Buffy gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I can't talk to him when he's mad like that."

"He's not. Not any more," Buffy told her.

"How can you know that?"

"Because I could feel it and I don't any more."

"See, that's what I meant when I said you two made me feel like an outsider. You're so. connected. How can I be a part of that?" Dawn asked.

"You are a part of it. However much Spike and I feel for each other, we both love you. If I'm. Look, get Spike to explain. He's the one who's good with words. But part of what I love about him is that he loves you. And it wouldn't matter what there was between me and Spike, if I thought it was better for you for us to be apart, then that's how it would be.

Between the two of us, we own that man, heart and mind, and it's probably a closer call than you think as to who has the bigger share. You're the closest thing to a daughter he's ever likely to have, and he couldn't love you any more if you were his own flesh and blood. And, hey, you are my flesh and blood so what does that say?

He's out back. Go talk to him."

"More freaky couple stuff?"

"Nah. Just straightforward slayer sense. Least I hope he's the only vamp hanging around our back porch."
 
Chapter 4:07
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.07
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Dawn stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Spike for some time before she got up the nerve to speak. His gaze seemed to be focussed on the bushes and trees around the garden's perimeter, but Dawn couldn't see anything beyond the circle of the porch light. A plume of smoke rose from the cigarette that burned down between his fingers. He had to know she was there, but he gave no sign, and she knew it was up to her to make the first move.

"Spike?"

"What, Bit?" The vampire's tone was more resigned and downbeat than she'd expected and held a lot less bite.

"Buffy said you weren't ticked any more. Guess she was right."

Spike raised his cigarette to his mouth for the first time in an age, drawing deeply and then exhaling before he replied. "Guess so."

Spike was surprised when Dawn sat down, not beside him, but so that one long leg was on either side of his. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed into his back. Surprised or not, he couldn't help but place his free hand over hers. That gesture gave her the courage to take the next step.

"You and Buffy. since you got together, it's kinda like watching a pair of fireflies. You can be with either one of you and you're fine, you're happy even, but as soon as the other one walks in the room, you just light on up. And it's beautiful and I'm happy for you, but it's something that belongs to just you two. That's all I meant about being on the outside. This house has been more like home with you around than it's ever been all last year."

"Might want to tell your young man that, when he gets over his shy phase and comes out the bushes."

Dawn giggled against his back. "You're joking."

Spike made the obligatory gestures. "Cross my heart and hope to die. He's on 'is hands and knees in the mud by the bush two to the left of my tree, checking to make sure I'm not givin' you a whuppin'. Threatened to report me to Social Services if you turned up tomorrow with a single mark on you, he did."

"And what did you say to that?"

"Nothing much. Told him that it'd be a miracle if you could sit down tomorrow without a cushion, but if he dared suggest that any of it was anything but self-inflicted then he really would see me pissed off."

"Hey, I'm not that bad."

"Bit, you have problems enough staying upright on dry land."

"Can't I ask him? Even Wes is going. I just heard him and Willow talking about it in the kitchen."

"Can't do it, love. We can't take chances with someone we don't know. Not when Clem and his lot have got to live with the consequences. 'M sorry, pet. Maybe next time."

"What about now? Can he stay?"

"Just till Xander picks you up, an' only if you make sure he doesn't see us leave."

"Y' know if you want some alone time with Buffy before everybody else shows up, you best go get her."

"I know, Niblet, I know," The vampire flicked his cigarette butt across the yard. Dawn suspected he aimed for the spot where he said Brandon was trying to hide but fell a couple of feet short. He stood and turned to place a kiss on the top of Dawn's head before he jumped over her leg and up the steps, ruffling her hair as he went.

"Phhh. Now I know why I never wanted a big brother," she called after him, once she'd blown or otherwise shifted most of her hair out of her face again.

 




 

When Spike found Buffy she was just tipping the last of the pieces of her Scooby Doo statuette into her waste paper bin.

"Leave that," he told her.

"I was just going to put the bits in the outside bin, and then I'd be done anyway."

"'S my mess. You shouldn't have to clear it up. And besides you've got better things to do." He took the bin from her hands and looked her over from head to toe with an appraising eye. "You'll freeze your bits off dressed like that, love. Tell you what. I'll take this out while you get changed." He strolled over to the wardrobe and pulled out the box with the skates in. "See what you can find that'll go with these. I like my women all laced up in leather."

"I bet you do. Time to settle that IOU?" she asked.

"Always pay my debts, pet." He flashed her a grin. "Five minutes out front or I come back in and carry you off over my shoulder in whatever you're wearing at the time."

"You can't seriously expect a woman to get ready for a date in five minutes."

"What's to do? You already look gorgeous. All you need's a couple of extra layers."

"Shows what you know. Watch what you're doing when you put that lot out. Make sure you don't cut yourself."

Spike gave her a slightly quizzical glance. "I'll see what I can do." Finally, he turned to leave taking the bin with him. "Four minutes," he shouted as he heard the door pushed closed behind him.

Spike wasn't in the least surprised to find a slightly bedraggled Brandon sitting next to Dawn on the back porch. When he opened the kitchen door, the pair jumped apart as if they were spring loaded. Brandon scrambled to his feet.

"Yeah, right, Bit. Like that'd fool anyone. An' sit down for Christ sake. Told Bitty there you could stay till Harris came to pick her up. An' I doubt you're goin' to be getting' up to anythin' I'd have to kill you for, in full view of the neighbours." 'I would and Buffy did ' he thought, 'but Bit wouldn't. '

"No, sir."

"And lay off with the 'sir' crap. Do I look like I served in the First World War or something?"

"No, s-. No."

"It's Spike."

"Thought you were leaving," Dawn hinted none too subtly.

"I will be once I dispose of the remains of your sister's tacky statuary."

"That thing Riley gave her?"

"That's the one."

"Congratulations. She's been trying to "accidentally" break that since he gave her it."

"That was kinda why I picked it."

Spike made his way round to the shadows that hid the outside bin and sifted through the broken pieces of pottery as he tipped them into the bin, not really surprised when he spotted tiny fragments of circuit board and wires amongst the broken pieces. 'Nothing we didn't already know ,' he tried to tell himself, but even so, he couldn't help feeling sorry for Buffy, knowing that her ex had been spying on her, even back when they were together.

As he walked past the two teenagers on the back step Dawn called out in mock irritation. "Heyyy"

"What, Bit?"

"I don't get a kiss this time?"

The vampire turned back and gave her a knowing smirk. "I thought that was what he was here for."

Dawn flushed red to the roots of her hair. "That's not the same, beast." She smacked at his leg with her hand, but Spike pulled it up out the way even quicker, leaving her flailing at fresh air. His hand reached out and messed her hair up again and then he was gone, ducking back into the kitchen before she could take her revenge.

"He is so dead," Dawn told her date, completely missing the irony in what she had said, at least for the moment.

"Well," Brandon replied as he lent a gentle hand in the task of re-arranging Dawn's hair. "Personally, I quite like his idea." His hand cradled Dawn's jaw as he leant in to brush her lips with his own.

When she finally pulled back, Dawn nervously licked her lips, trying to douse the unfamiliar tingling sensation. "Definitely not the same."

Pale green eyes sparkled with laughter as they moved closer once more. "Glad to hear it."

 




 

Spike didn't stick to his five-minute deadline. Instead, he waited until he could hear Buffy doing her last-minute checklist. "Skates. keys. helmet."

Pushing the room door open, he found her dressed in a whole new outfit. Black cotton leggings moulded themselves to her lower half, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her lilac cashmere sweater clung to her upper body in a similar fashion. Spike was guiltily reminded of having Harmony dress up in Buffy's clothes before he put his earlier threat into action.

Buffy hammered against his back with her fists, but her efforts were somewhat hampered by the giggles that she couldn't keep in.

"Put me down, you Neanderthal."

"Nothing doing, pet." Spike swiped the bag he suspected held Buffy's new skates and picked up the helmet that lay next to it.

"You're a lunatic. You know that."

"Wouldn't be the first time it's been said. Of course, I killed everybody else as said it." With Buffy still beating on his back all the way, he carried her down the stairs and into the living room where Willow and Tara were curled up together on the sofa and Wes lounged on the floor. In the corner of the room a historical drama was playing on the TV. "We'll see you guys later." He turned around so that Buffy could see the people in the room if she raised her head enough. "Say goodbye to the nice people."

"Wes, would you be so kind as to pass me a stake from that chest you're leaning on?"

The watcher smiled, a grin quite nearly as wicked as the vampire's own. "Where would be the fun in that?"

Spike made his way to the front door, pulling it open with some difficulty. All the while Buffy muttered about the other Englishman's bad timing regarding the loss of his fuddy-duddy gene. After what seemed like an aeon hanging upside down, Spike deposited Buffy next to the two remaining motorbikes, Brandon's presumably being abandoned somewhere out of sight but within walking distance.

Buffy beat her fists against the rock solid wall of Spike's chest before her fingers fell to fondling the sapphire silk of another of his new shirts instead. "You are a pig."

"And you're adorably flushed and ever so kissable."

When their lips met it was like an electric current arced between them. Buffy's fingers curled into the lapels of his coat pulling him down to her until she drew away gasping for breath.

"Are you feeling naughty, slayer?"

Buffy couldn't keep the suspicion out of her voice. "Why?"

The vampire dangled a set of shiny keys from his hand, attached to a gleaming key ring with the Harley Davidson logo. "Look what I found on the hall table."

For three whole seconds the slayer hesitated, her teeth pressing ever so slightly into her lower lip as she deliberated. "Well, he did refuse to give me a stake. and it would teach him not to leave things lying around." The vampire ducked quickly back to close the front door and grab Buffy's coat, depositing his own bike keys on the table at the same time.

About a minute later, the roar of the Harley's engine had Wes rushing to pull the curtains aside to peer out into the darkness and confirm his suspicions. He eyed Spike's considerably older, less shiny and less powerful motorcycle with disdain.

"You know, I think he's a bad influence on her," the former watcher remarked.

"You think?" Tara asked as she came to stand next to him. "I think it suits her."

Around the side of the house, Dawn kept Brandon way too preoccupied to notice the vampire wasn't wearing a helmet.
 
Chapter 4:08
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.08
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Even though he took the "scenic" route, Spike felt as if their trip to the ice-rink was far too short. Wes's Harley handled like a dream and Buffy's arms anchored her firmly against his back. If he gave way to impulse, he would just make for the coast road and open her up, never stopping until they ran out of gas or had to look for a bed for the day or night. With the orbs still in his coat pocket, not even daylight could stop him, but Spike wasn't one to welch on a debt and Buffy reckoned he owed her ice-skating. So, he pulled the Harley over into the rink's parking lot, pulling up next to the car that was the lot's only other occupant.

Buffy wasted no time taking off her helmet, but then she looked at the car and the light that was on over the side door.

"Somebody's here. Maybe we should just go."

"Fat lot of point me rentin' the place if you're goin' to chicken out on me now."

"You mean we're not breaking in?"

"Tut, tut. Would have thought that broke all the Buffy commandments. I think you're trying to corrupt me."

Buffy almost choked, she laughed so hard. "Me. corrupt William the Bloody? As if!" She looked up at the vampire's laughing face. "You really did rent the place, didn't you? Not just get one of your poker buddies to break in before we got here?"

"Oh ye of little faith. How well you know me, but, no, I didn't think of that one. I'll remember for next time though. Come on. Get your arse in gear. I'm payin' for this by the hour whether we're in there or not."

"So, how did you manage this? I didn't know you could hire this place out."

"You just have to know the right people, pet."

Spike held the side door open for Buffy, letting her enter first. "If we follow this round to the right we're supposed to get to the manager's office," Spike supplied as Buffy looked either way along a deserted corridor. Shrugging, Buffy headed to the right. Sure enough, they soon came to a door marked with the legend, "Manager's Office." Spike barged in without knocking, greeting the man inside as if he was an old acquaintance.

"Everything all set?" he asked as the pair shook hands, but not a formal handshake, one of those "boy's club" special handshakes with all the stops and whistles.

"I'll just stick the lights on for you now. Boots are in the crate there. Yours should be near the top." Spike pulled a thick envelope from the inside pocket of his coat and tossed it onto the desk. As the man moved to a control panel and flicked all the light switches, Buffy realised they were in a glass-fronted booth that overlooked the rink itself. The rink came to life as she watched, almost like magic. A vast net was suspended among the lights over the ice, filled with red and black balloons.

"Are we expecting some sort of party?"

"Local hockey team," the manager supplied. "Big match at the weekend or something."

Spike managed to pick up the topmost pair of boots and check their size before, Buffy pulled him away in search of a path to the ice. "See you later, Stu," Spike shouted as he was dragged off.

"Just follow the corridor on round. It'll bring you out opposite the stairs down to the ice," the man called, as he watched the vampire being dragged off by a girl about half his size. Ripping open the envelope, he pocketed the money inside and pulled out a couple of audio tapes. Taking the one that had a large "1" on the label he slotted it into one of the PA system's decks and waited for the girl to make her way on the ice before he set it in motion.

 

Buffy figured it must be the amount of practice Spike had at getting in and out of Doc Marten's that let him get his boots on first. Leaving his precious duster draped over the front row of bleachers, he had completed a half circuit of the ice before she was ready. She should have known Spike's skating style would owe more to hockey than figure skating, but as he approached his starting point again he relaxed into a more upright stance and glided to a halt before her, one hand outstretched.

"Care to dance, slayer?"

"Are you sure dancing's what you're planning? You looked more like you were short a puck and a stick before."

"Trust me."

Buffy took his hand and let him draw her onto the ice. As soon as she stepped out to the ice atmospheric chords welled up to fill the silence accompanied by a crystal clear voice. Buffy couldn't understand a single word, but she couldn't help but appreciate the music's beauty.

Spike drew her into his arms and together they took the first steps of a very long dance that neither of them wanted to end. Just as when they fought, they moved intuitively together. Buffy felt like every fairy tale princess she'd ever seen in all those years of icecapades. Okay, maybe more inclined toward Beauty than any of the others. Then and there, she wouldn't have changed her "Beast" for all the princes in the fairy tale world. One track blended seamlessly into the next and time flew by unnoticed by either of the pair, until the tannoy crackled into life.

"Well, check out Brian Boitano."

Buffy looked over to the booth, surprised to see her sister, her two best friends, their partners and Wesley watching them along with Lori, Clem and all his family. Spike took advantage of her distraction to give Xander a two-fingered salute. His experience of Brian Boitano was limited to having seen the South Park movie, but he knew an insult when he heard one, mostly whenever Xander opened his mouth in his direction.

"We're havin' a party?" Buffy asked.

"Well, it seemed kind of selfish keepin' this whole place to ourselves for much more than an hour."

On cue the music changed to Pink. "I'm comin' up, so you better get this party started." And then there was a loud bang and the air around the couple was filled with swirls of red and black. Balloons floated down along with streamers and glitter. Spike looked round in surprise.

"I think somebody leaned on the wrong button."

"This is all sort of surreal. Any minute now Snoopy is going to pop out from between the bleachers and start doing his happy dance or someone's going to offer me cheese."

"Nah, not if Harris sees them first. There'd be none left."

The group started to file out of the office. "How long did it take to get from his office to here?" Buffy asked.

"'Bout half a minute. Why? You planning on givin' 'em a game of hide and seek?" Spike's gaze flicked from Buffy's eyes to her lips and back again.

"Nope. Just wanted to know how long I could spend on the first instalment of showing you how grateful I am."

"So how grateful are you?"

Buffy closed the distance between them, sliding her arms around his waist so that their position was as stable as possible. She tilted her head back so that her lips almost touched his as she answered. "Very."

The chill of his lips as they met hers surprised her at first, and she briefly pulled away.

Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she teased him. "Say, you've never actually been so cold that you've stuck to anyone, have you? I wouldn't want to be left-."

Any further words she might have said were lost as Spike provided evidence that he wasn't about to stick to her, or at least not any more than usual. The embrace was short-lived, however, the squeak of the door between the private and public sections of the rink betraying the imminent arrival of their friends.

Wes was first to reach the barrier. He held up Spike's bike keys. "I believe you have something of mine."

Spike gestured with his chin toward the bench where his coat lay. "Right pocket."

"I think under the circumstances I'll wait till tomorrow to reclaim them. That way you'll have a chance to fill it up. Besides it wouldn't do to make Buffy ride home from your engagement party on that thing."

"Engagement party?" Spike asked. "It was just meant to be a chance for Bit an' the Bite Size an' all to have a bit of a laugh."

"Stop complaining. Engagement party means presents. Right?" Buffy accompanied her words with a sharp elbow in the ribs. The Scooby girls all gathered around Xander as he tried to make his way down the steps to the level of the rink, carrying a gift-wrapped box so big he couldn't see his feet. He almost slipped as Rosa ducked beneath his arms as she ran down the steps.

"Unker Will, Unker Will. The man let me press the button to let out all the balloons." Spike scooped the girl up in his arms before she could slip on the ice.

"So that was you, was it? I thought Xander had sat on the button by mistake."

"That's silly." The little girl was all tripped out in her party best. Her hair hung loose about her face and Buffy's heart ached as she watched them both together, knowing that he would have made such a good father, if fate had been kinder. But then, slayers didn't exactly make for the ideal mother award either, so perhaps it was just as well. Some things just weren't meant to be. Buffy would take Spike and their rather strange extended family over the suburban dream any day.
 
Chapter 4:09
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.09
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"Penny for them?" Willow asked, seeing her friend's wistful expression.

"Just thinking, even with everything we can't have, I still wouldn't change what we've got."

"That's good, 'cause if we try returning any more unwanted gifts, the stores are going to start banning us."

"No," Buffy confirmed, watching as Rosa giggled in Spike's arms, as he spun round and round for her. "This one's a keeper."

"Well, in that case, you better open it, hadn't you?"

Buffy's gaze lingered longingly on Spike as her thoughts turned to unwrapping until Willow pulled her away to where Xander had deposited his burden on the bleachers. Buffy looked at the huge gift-wrapped box, her fingers itching to tear off the paper. All the Scoobies gathered round to observe the grand opening.

"Spike! Pressies!"

Spike stopped his games with his youngest fan and skated back to the edge of the ice to pass her over to her waiting mother. He placed a kiss on Marie's cheek. "Thanks for lookin' after Bit, while."

"Not a problem. Now go open your present before Buffy explodes from the suspense. You can get ours later."

"Spike?" Buffy called again.

"'M here, pet. No need to bust an eardrum." Spike's arms slid around her waist from behind and his cheek rested against hers. "Feel free to unveil your toy surprise."

"It was Xander's idea," Anya told them. "He said you'd need one for the basement, so I said we should all put together and give you one, in case Spike took the one from the flat and then I wouldn't get my security deposit back, so. Dawn picked the colour. She said it would match the rest of your things."

All the while Anya was talking, Buffy was tearing into the wrapping around the gift, pulling the paper back in strips until the picture on the side of the box was revealed.

"It's a microwave," Buffy tried to sound enthusiastic as she wondered why they needed a third one in addition to the one in the kitchen and the one from Spike's crypt. Then she noticed the little colour sticker on the corner of the box. "It's a silver microwave," she managed with slightly less apathy.

"Hot. Chocolate. Fudge," Spike whispered into Buffy's ear, the very tip of his tongue licking the whorls of her ear ever so briefly as he did so.

A small smile settled on Buffy's face at that idea and Spike could hear and feel the increase in her heartrate. "Thanks, you guys."

"And there's a little extra something, just from me, in case you ever change your mind." Xander pulled a much smaller parcel, tied with a bow from his jacket pocket.

Buffy turned to Spike as if to see if he wanted to take his turn opening things. "Don't look at me, love. There's only your name on the tag."

"It's kinda tongue-in-cheek, so don't take it the wrong way," Xander started placating the slayer even as the feel of the parcel gave her a hint as to its content.

"Xander." She started peeling back the layers of paper. "If this is what I think it is."

"I told him it wasn't funny. But he was all, 'you just don't get it, Ahn. Buffy'll think it's a hoot.'"

Sure enough, Buffy found what she had suspected was within parcel. One hand-crafted and extremely sharp wooden stake with fingergrips, shaped to fit perfectly in her hand. Buffy turned the fine piece of craftsmanship over, to check what her fingers already told her was there. Sure enough Spike's name was carved into the wood in an intricate script.

Buffy stood holding the gift in her hand, deeply ambivalent about both it and its giver. As a piece of craftsmanship it was unsurpassed. The time and effort that had gone into its making were undeniable. As a joke, it was crass beyond belief. How could her friend think she would be amused? Was he even her friend if that was what he was thinking?

Spike's defence mechanism set itself in motion, this time covering for Buffy's confusion. "All that work and you still couldn't manage to spell 'stake' right, but I reckon three out of five letters right must be better than average for you."

"No, you-." Xander's attempt to explain the joke was cut short by his wife elbowing him in the ribs, while Willow and Tara just looked embarrassed.

"Off topic, Xander," she told him.

"So, isn't it about time you all got some skates on and joined us out there?" Buffy asked, dropping the stake onto the nearest bench.

"Wait. You haven't opened my present, yet." Dawn interrupted. The teenager rummaged in her backpack before she pulled out yet another parcel. "It's not much, but I figured if Spike keeps finding things to apologise for, you might need it."

Buffy gave her sister a curious glance as she started unwrapping the parcel. "I dread to think."

But when she opened up the box to reveal a cut glass vase, her mouth formed into the first genuine smile at any of the gifts. "I don't think it'll stay empty for long."

"Thanks, Bit," Spike added.

"So does this mean you two guys are back to normal again?" Buffy asked.

"Normal? The Addams Family's more normal than us." Dawn joked. "But if you mean are we good, then yeah. We're good."

"Glad to hear it," Buffy told them. "Now hug."

Teenager and vamp each gave her identical 'Do we hafta?' looks. What happened in the privacy of the back porch was one thing. Getting hug-happy with your future in-laws in public was quite another. Nevertheless, they both knew their fate was sealed. Spike held out his arms and Dawn walked into them.

As Spike's arms closed around Dawn's shoulders he whispered in her ear. "You think she's embarrassed us enough yet?"

"Just smile and thank your lucky stars she hasn't got a camera."

The pair pulled apart though Spike kept one arm around Dawn, his other slipping round Buffy's waist. "I think you've got one last gift to open, pet."

"Ooh, champagne." Buffy's attention was caught by the bottle in Clem's hand.

"Bit lower, pet," the vampire indicated at the same time as Buffy felt a tug on her hand. Looking down, she noticed Rosa clasping another box tightly against her chest. "It's for you and Unker Will. Mommy says to be real careful and not fall in case it breaks."

Buffy crouched down to take the parcel from the girl.

"Thank you."

"When you marry Unker Will, will you be my Auntie? Mommy says not to call you Auntie Buffy 'less you say it's okay, but if you marry Unker Will then you'd have to be my Auntie."

"Sweetie, you can call me Auntie Buffy any time you want, okay?"

Spike relinquished his arm around Dawn. "Come on, Rosebud, an' I'll pick you up so you can see."

Buffy carefully opened up the package while Spike, Dawn, Clem and all his family looked on. She stared into the top of the box after pulling out the first chunk of polystyrene. "Spike?" She held the box in front of him for him to have a look.

Spike's face twisted into a frown. "Marie, we can't take that. Those things cost a bloody fortune."

"Not the little ones, they don't. And that was one of the smallest ones they had and it's from all of us, so you're keeping it."

It was then that Spike caught the look of awe on Buffy's face and knew the lamp with its stained glass shade was staying.

"Is it really expensive?" she asked, though he could tell she'd already fallen in love with the design of bluebells against a green background.

Spike sighed. "Let's just say, that one Rupert had with the dragonflies would set you back getting on for a couple of hundred quid in England. I'm not so sure what they go for over here."

"It looks prettier when it's on," Rosa told Buffy. If there had been any doubt in the matter, Spike knew it was settled now.

"Okay, I give up. I'm not going to try arguin' with three of you at the same time. Thank you all." The vampire conceded the battle with as much grace as he could muster.

"Ignore him. What he means to say is it's gorgeous and it'll make a perfect bedside lamp when we get the basement sorted out." Buffy hugged and thanked all Clem's family individually ending by placing a kiss on the end of Rosa's nose. Then, Spike gave her back to Marie to put the girl's skates on while he escorted Buffy back onto the ice.

 




 

Xander looked over as Buffy embraced Marie and Rosa.

"So who's the babe with the kid? An' how come if Spike's got proper friends we've never met them before? No, silly me. If she knew Spike she'd never let him hold the kid," he questioned his wife.

"You've never met them because quote spending the evening with the demon hordes, not your idea of fun unquote."

"Ah, so what is she? Vamp? No, no kids. Unless she was vamped after she had the kid. So technically possible, but unlikely. Vengeance demon? Wig-lady thing or what?"

"Gee, Xander. It's so great when you let people see your sensitive side." Had they not been sitting some distance from everyone else Anya's caustic tone would probably have drawn everyone's attention. "Marie's human. She just happened to be as good as married to Clem's brother."

"So the kid is."

"Clem's niece. You know. The hellspawn you were so afraid of catching demon cooties from."

"But she looks so."

"What, Xander? Human?"

"I was going to go with cute, but, yeah, human'll do. Not like Clem."

"Well, if you really have to, take another look and this time have a look below the hair at her ears, and I guess you'll find what you're looking for. But once you're done, take a look at yourself and ask yourself why such a little thing makes such a big difference to you. Ask why it matters what her father was or what her mother is."

"I'm not. It doesn't. I don't know. You're putting words in my mouth."

"Well, maybe if I try real hard I'll eventually manage to put thoughts in your head." Anya tied the last knot in her laces with rather more vigour than was necessary and stomped off toward the ice. As soon as she reached the frozen surface she glided effortlessly away from the edge. Xander followed but given his total lack of practice he resorted to holding onto the barrier and calling after her. "Ahn, hon, come back. I didn't mean it like that, honest."

Spike noticed the carpenter fumbling around. "Maybe I best give Harris back his balls before he breaks something."

"But. What if he fell on his butt and smashed them?" Buffy asked. "Best play safe."

"Oops. I see what you mean. Invulnerable body. Ice. Orb sandwich. You're quite right. Recipe for disaster," the vampire commented with a lopsided grin as Xander landed flat on his back.

 




 

"So, what brings you up to Sunnydale?" Lori asked Wes as they both laced up their borrowed skates. "I thought you were one of the LA crowd."

"I was, for a time. Now I'm between jobs, and I'm trying to decide whether I should move back here."

"The big city's loss is our gain. And it's only fair if you stay," she told him with a mischievous grin as she took to the ice with a grace owed to years of weekend rollerblading.

"Really. And why's that?" Wes asked as he followed more cautiously.

"Well, Sunnydale's resident charming, devilishly handsome Brit's just gone off the market. We need a replacement."
 
Chapter 4:10
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.10
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

He didn't want to do it, but Sunnydale wasn't some fairy tale land where his princess got to live happily ever after. His princess was a slayer and a few hours brief respite was all either of them could afford.

"Love?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I've got a confession to make," the vampire did his best to soften the blow.

"Ah-huh. No confessions. Not tonight. Tonight's about dreams and romance and perfect presents from your friends and ignoring Xander presents. How come your friends are better at the gifts thing than mine?"

'Way to go, Spike. Had to cut things short when she was enjoying herself. Screwed things up for her again, haven't you? '

"Could be that my friends actually like you?" Spike suggested.

"Well, a microwave for downstairs is more of a present for you than for me."

"Or from a Harris point of view, it could be a way to keep me in the basement as much as possible, away from the rest of you."

"Or it could just mean that he's over the whole eating Spaghetti O's from the dryer phase and wants actual food like popcorn when he comes to visit."

"And the rate he's eating lately, he thinks we need three microwaves to keep him going."

"Beast. Besides he hasn't been so bad since the wedding. I think it was nerves and then thinking he'd lost her." Buffy made excuses for her friend, but then it was true that whenever Spike had bought pizza, Xander hadn't eaten any. Okay, so last time he had just finished bringing up his lunch, but he hadn't had any the previous time either.

"I don't know about losing demon bint, but if he'd kept going the way he was, he could say goodbye to Little Xander, 'cause he wasn't going to be seeing anything below his waist."

"You are so mean."

"Evil. Remember?"

"My antihero." Buffy fake swooned, hand to her forehead like the heroine in a Victorian melodrama, knowing that Spike would catch her before she could fall.

Spike scooped her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers, letting them glide slowly to a stop as he did so. "Hapless sidekick, more like," was his rebuttal when he finally raised his head.

"Partner. Hapless partner." Buffy smirked as she teased him, but her eyes declared that she meant what she said.

Spike set her back on her blades and traced the lines of her cheek with the back of one finger. "Seriously, love, there's some bits I have to tell you."

The troubled, guilty look on his face made Buffy sigh. "Tell me the worst."

"Okay, worst, I kinda arranged for everybody to meet at Lily's after this place closes up, for a council of war away from prying eyes and ears. At least, by now Red and Glinda should have warned the Harrises. I didn't think it was safe to tell them over the phone."

Buffy sighed again. "We don't get a happy ending, do we? We never really get to just be."

"I'm sorry, love. If I'd known how this was going to go, I'd have made sure you had tonight. I just mucked up, as usual."

"Spike, look at me. Today has gone from the literally sublime to the ridiculous and back again. All the good parts are down to you being you, you making me feel good, you making me love being alive, being with you. So, if we've got to fit 'us' in round about all the slayer stuff and Dawn's stuff, it's just the way it is. All we can do is make the most of the times we have for ourselves, and today's been filled with great times.

Thank you." Her last two words came out as barely a whisper.

One of her hands slipped around his neck, her fingers running through the hair at his nape, where it had been trimmed too short to curl. Her other arm wrapped around his waist, holding him close and her cheek rested against his shoulder, so that every breath she took bore the faint scent of his cologne. Spike's arms enfolded her like a child's security blanket. For a long precious moment, both of them were content to just be.

However, Spike had another confession to make. "Love, there's one more thing."

"Mm-hmm." Buffy nuzzled in against him as she waited, trying if possible to get even closer.

"I told the munchkin, if it was okay with you, that we'd sneak away before the end so we could help put her to bed."

"We get to tuck her in and I get to listen to you read to her?"

"Uh-huh," the vampire confirmed.

"Sounds perfect. Count me in. What about the presents?"

"Dare say Marie would swing by my place on the way so we can drop them off, if we ask. 'S not far out of her way. Assuming you've got your keys. We can leave Wes's bike as well. Take the car back to yours."

"What about Clem and Lily. Are they leaving, too?"

"My guess, Lori'll drop them off later."

"Okay. You sort out the presents and I'll sort out the orbs and make our excuses and stuff."

"Meet you outside. An', pet, don't tell them where we're goin', will you? My rep's bad enough in this town as it is."

"Tell you what. You give me a kiss to keep me going, and if it's convincing enough, they'll all think we're off for a quickie."

"Convincing as that, and keep it decent enough for Bit and snack-size. Good job I'm a miracle worker, isn't it?"

Spike brought a hand up to each side of her face, his thumbs brushed a gentle trail over each cheekbone. His head bent so slowly to hers that she just had to close her eyes. The intensity of his gaze was too much. His lips brushed hers so softly at first it felt almost like a cool summer breeze, but as her lips fell open in a soft gasp, his returned, this time pressing against hers more firmly than before. Still there was an exquisite tenderness in his touch and even though they were now kissing open-mouthed, there was no attempt on either part to deepen their contact. Buffy's world narrowed to the feel of cool fingers on her face, cool lips that tasted of mint on hers and the combination of scents that had come to mean Spike. Against her expectations she felt her desire rising, her blood pumping more rapidly through her system, bringing a flush to her cheeks, the muscles of her stomach tightening in anticipation. Then the gentle pressure of his lips was gone. Her eyelids flickered open, her gaze locking instantly with his own at a distance of mere inches.

"Believe me, my love. When we get the opportunity, it's going to be no quickie."

 




 

"So who's idea was this?" Xander asked, clearly uncomfortable about something.

"I guess it was Spike's, but I don't see what difference that makes. It makes sense. As far as anybody watching or eavesdropping knows, we're still here. And besides, there's things that have happened you need to know about."

"I'm just not happy bringing in all these friends of Spike's. I mean, what's their agenda? Why do they care one way or another if we're being spied on? I just don't see how we're meant to trust them," the man protested in as hushed a tone as he could manage.

Buffy rolled her eyes and looked to his wife. "Anya, what do you say?"

"I say Clem and Lily are no friends of the Initiative, and if they trust this Lori, then she's fine by me."

Buffy raised an eyebrow in Xander's direction.

"Look, how about I drop off Anya and the others. Anya can tell me what happens, but I've got to make an early start in the morning."

"Shit, you didn't mention that before. Does that mean you won't be able to pick Dawn up like usual?" Buffy asked. "I'm not keen on her going on that bike until she gets all the right gear."

"No, it's okay I'll swing by, usual time," Xander assured her before he realised his mistake. "I just... have to drop by the builder's merchant's first... for some bits that were out of stock... some really important bits." The carpenter was clearly improvising on the spot.

Buffy's look turned cooler. "Whatever, Xander. But it seems like we're going to be seeing more of Clem and his family. If you've got some sort of issue with him I don't know about, then sooner or later something's going to have to be sorted out."

"Look, Buffy. I got involved in this for one reason, to help make this town safe for the people who live here. The people , Buffy."

Anya shook her head slightly. "It's pointless arguing with him. He was the same way about Hallie. Left the house as soon as she arrived and didn't come back till he knew she was gone. At least it sure seems that way to me. I'll be there, though."

Buffy couldn't believe it, and yet as she thought about it, she came to a realisation. Clem might have been invited to Xander's wedding, but she had never seen Xander address a single word to him. All the time they'd been locked in the house, Xander had only occasionally been in the same room as the demon and in all that time he'd never spoken to him at all, except maybe to say fold or to bid when they were playing poker. It could just be that any friend of Spike's automatically qualified as a social leper in Xander's book, but Buffy had a feeling it had to do with something else. A word she really didn't want to associate with anyone she called friend. But isn't it just as bad to treat someone differently because their skin is wrinkly, or green or blue, or cold as it would be if their skin were brown or yellow or any of the other colours of the human rainbow?

"Okay. I guess that'll have to do." Buffy pressed the orbs into Anya's hands. "You best keep these. If Xander falls on them, they might break. I'll see you later, Anya."

 




 

"Promise you'll pick a story with a happy ending to read." Buffy told Spike when she caught up with him next to Wes's bike outside. "Promise me a story about life the way it should be. Promise me heroes that are good and pure, not cynical or bitter." Buffy needed to lose herself. To pretend she couldn't see the chasm that was growing between her and Xander. She needed to pretend that his view wasn't one she'd gradually come to despise in herself and had made a concious effort to turn away from. How could she criticise her friend for a flaw that until so very recently had been part of her own make up? "Promise me a world I'd want to live in," she asked.

"As you wish, love. As you wish."
 
Chapter 4:11
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.11
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

Buffy almost despaired of Marie's chances of getting Rosa to sleep. The little girl was so excited to have not only her Uncle Will, but also her "new" auntie to help her mother put her to bed. She was bouncing up and down on the bed with excitement when the couple arrived, having taken the presents up to Spike's apartment and then taken Wes's bike to a nearby filling station before switching to the DeSoto.

Apparently, for Marie and Spike this hyperactivity was simply accepted as the norm. "Come on, mite. You know the drill. No stories till you're under the covers," the vampire chided.

"And no getting under the covers until you've said your prayers." Her mother added her own instructions.

The little girl quickly scrambled off the bed to kneel by its side. Her childish voice intoning a popular children's prayer before she clambered under the covers.

"Okay, missy, what's it to be?" Spike took off his coat and draped it over the back of an armchair positioned in the corner of the room where the lamp next to it wouldn't cast its light directly on the bed.

"Mommy was reading this one to me." The girl picked up a well-worn paperback from her nightstand. Buffy recognised it by the cover illustration as a favourite from her own childhood. A bookmark showed where Marie had paused the night before.

"Okay, I guess we better see what Bilbo's up to then. That okay with you, pet?" Spike asked Buffy.

"Just what the doctor ordered."

Marie moved to tuck the covers in around the girl as Spike settled into the armchair. She gently kissed the girl's forehead as Spike pulled Buffy down to sit across his lap while he read, her legs hanging over one arm of the chair while the other supported her back.

"With or without?" Marie asked Spike with a nod in Buffy's direction.

"With," the vampire responded before he continued the tale of the hobbit that gave the book its title and his dwarven friends.

After twenty minutes the young girl was clearly straining to stay awake to hear more of the story but when he reached the chapter's end the vampire replaced the bookmark between the pages and Buffy stood so he could return the book to its place by Rosa's bedside. A cool hand stroked non-existent stray hairs from her brow before he bent to press his lips against her cheek. His eyes flicked to the baby-monitor next to the book to check it was switched on before he stepped back, gesturing with one hand for Buffy to take her turn. Buffy pressed a kiss to her brow. When she straightened back up Spike's arms wrapped around her waist from behind. His cheek brushed against Buffy's as he bid the girl goodnight.

"Now you go to sleep like a good girl because we'll be listening, and if you don't your mum'll say I make you too excited and I won't be able to read to you any more."

"I'll be good," a sleepy voice informed him.

The vampire picked up his coat and ushered Buffy to the door before he clicked out the lamp.

"Night, night, ladybug," he whispered as he left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

 

Somehow Buffy wasn't surprised to find Marie making her way into the flat's living room at the same time as she and Spike did. A tray with three steaming cups and a bowl stacked with sugar cubes indicated she'd just come from the kitchen.

"There's some sugar already in, but I didn't know whether you might like it sweeter." The brunette set the tray on a small, black lacquer coffee table in the centre of the pale green room before she passed one of the mugs to Spike.

"Just the same as Spike's is fine," Buffy replied, accepting a mug of marshmallow-topped hot chocolate. "I should have known he had an ulterior motive."

"You didn't think I would be going round reading bedtime stories out of the evilness of my heart, did you? Course I'm getting paid." He sipped deeply at his own mug before settling on the cream leather sofa. His right arm rested along the back of the couch, an open invitation that Buffy gladly accepted. Marie took her place in an armchair at right angles, sinking back into it with the look of someone who has reached the end of a long day.

Buffy's eyes roamed the room with its pale green walls, hung with a selection of watercolours in clip frames. An aquarium with small brightly coloured fish burbled softly to one side of the chimneybreast and on the other a bookcase was filled with books of all shapes and sizes. A small gate-leg table stood by the window with a laptop and the receiver for the baby monitor resting on it, but other than that the room was free of the sort of clutter Buffy expected from a family room. It had an air of tranquillity that Buffy envied.

"In little girl's kisses and hot-chocolate?" Marie teased the vampire.

"What can I say?" he rejoined. "I'm just easily pleased."

Buffy spoke before she really considered what she was saying. "Marie, would it be okay with you if we asked Rosa to be a flower girl at the wedding?"

"Pet?" Spike's question showed his surprise. Marie's eyes flicked back and forth between the pair as she waited for them to settle things between them.

"What?"

"I thought you were all sorted with Bit and Red."

"They're bridesmaids, not flower girls and if I'd known earlier that you had another of your girls hidden away over here I'd have asked before now."

"You're sure, pet?"

"She's special to you. That'd earn her a posh frock, even if I wasn't already half way wound round that little finger with you. That is so long as her mom approves?"

"If you're sure there won't be a problem with the padre over it. It'd break her heart if you asked her and then it fell through." Marie replied with a wistful tone that Buffy was at a loss to understand.

"I can double-check if you want. I'm seeing him day after tomorrow. We can leave it till after that to ask her if you want, but if he's okay on the vampire issue I can't see it being a problem."

"It'll be fine, luv." Spike reassured the older woman. "You just happened to get stuck with a right wanker. They're not all the same."

"In that case, I'm sure she'll be thrilled, but I think maybe it would be best to wait to tell her, just in case."

 




 

"You mean to say that Riley had the house bugged even back when you were dating?" Anya asked.

"There are other possibilities. I mean, maybe when Sam went to the toilet the last time she was here, she could have hidden it then. Or maybe, Forrest or Maggie Walsh or someone could have tampered with it when it was in Riley's room, say if they knew he'd bought it to give to me. It doesn't necessarily mean he knew about it or that it's always been there. It could even have been Warren. There could be-."

"Don't they teach Occam's Razor in schools these days?" Spike asked, obviously irritated by Buffy's attempt at Devil's advocate.

"What's shaving got to do with it?" Buffy asked, before she realised that in Xander's absence she seemed to be the only one who failed to understand Spike's question. "And I guess from the look on everyone else's faces the answer is yes, but I was obviously too busy killing something that day, so colour me Rainman."

Wesley explained in his understated way. "Occam's Razor is just a name given to a theorem which says the simplest explanation is the most likely one, or vice versa. It cuts both ways, you see, hence the name." He gave Buffy an apologetic glance before he continued, "and based on the evidence alone, without knowing the young man in question I'd have to agree with Spike."

"The young man in question is a trained liar. We already know for a fact that he was prepared to lie to Buffy by omission, if nothing else. He's also a hypocrite, a racist, a bully, a sexist, a cheat and an insecure manipulative bastard, and those are his better points," Spike informed the other Englishman.

"Woo, someone obviously touched a nerve," Lori commented.

Willow stepped in when she saw Buffy struggling for words.

"Riley seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Maybe misguided at times and kinda gung ho, but at the time we all thought his heart was in the right place. Then things with Buffy ended kinda badly and its only in hindsight that anybody other than Spike started to wonder how much of what we thought we knew was just for show."

"Aw, puh-lease," the vampire protested. "Nobody's been that "Aw shucks, ma'am," since the days of Tom Sawyer, and I'm highly doubtful anyone with an IQ in double figures ever was, even back then."

"This Doctor?" Lily asked. "Is possible it was Holliday? If he mean to buy Axis, he need money."

"Bloody hell, Lil. It never even crossed my mind." The vampire cursed himself for not connecting the old man's nickname to the dealer before now.

Buffy looked over at Wes. "I guess that makes going through the old guy's stuff a bit more of a priority. If he was making substantial deposits round about February time, then we have our real Doctor. Otherwise it's back to the Sam hypothesis."

"I can look for bank statements when I go to LA if you want," Anya offered.

"That'd be good. Thanks," somehow Buffy felt as if she'd viewed Anya as an adjunct to Xander for so long that she'd never really appreciated the other girl's efforts. The fact that she was here now while Xander was AWOL had made the slayer reconsider her attitude to the former demon.

"Look, this is all well and good, but are we any further with finding any bugs or stuff? 'Cause I don't really want to replace every ornament and bit of furniture in the house. We need to know where they are, and if there's anywhere in the house that's actually safe for us to talk openly."

"There are some spells in some of the books we got from LA that might help, " Tara said. "But we haven't had much chance to research since we got back, and we're kinda figuring on having to use the public library, what with not knowing where they might have cameras and stuff in the house and on campus and at the shop."

"Okay, so we're still working on that one. What about working out whether we're talking about Riley on his own or Riley and Sam, or the whole Initiative, or what? We don't even know who we're up against. Or who if any of them are here in Sunnydale."

Spike gave a menacing smile. "But we know who to ask."

Dawn snorted. "And Riley's just going to fly back from Nepal, wearing a big sign that says 'Spike, beat me till your chip goes off so bad that your ears bleed'?"

"He will if we send him the right invitation. It's what used to be called throwing down the gauntlet."

Buffy looked at her fiancé warily. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I've got a hankering for a good old fashioned bachelor party..."
 
Chapter 4:12
 
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SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)







Chapter 4.12
Tuesday, May 14th, 2002

"Spike, you cannot be serious. For one thing Riley isn't going to come anywhere on your say so," Buffy argued.

"Not a problem. I'm not going to be the one doing the asking."

"What do you mean?" the slayer stood so that Spike's pacing was interrupted when the two of them ended up nose to nose.

"I mean, pet, that if Anya here's willing to play along, then Harris will do the asking. And he's going to be real convincing."

"I don't follow."

"Neither do I... yet. But I'm sure that between all the brains we've got here we can come up with some story that'll bring Soldier Boy a runnin'. Somethin' along the whole thrall line. The sort of thing that the pair of them are all too ready to believe in the first place." Neither one of the couple would back down and their voices were getting louder with every round the argument went through, despite the fact that their faces if anything were getting closer.

"You're talking about using one of my friends, and you might as well just paint a bullseye over your heart. It's stupid. You're stupid. If we have to put up with cameras and listeny things from now to doomsday, then we do, because that plan is so not leaving this room... Not to mention the fact that say you did convince Xander, then he would just come after you himself."

Spike glowered at the love of his life. "Thanks for the vote of no confidence, precious. You really think, chip or no chip, that the carpenter could get the job done?"

"I really think that one way or the other someone I care about would get hurt."

"For crying out loud. He couldn't lay a finger on me that I didn't let him. We could dance from now till next year and I could stay out his bloody way, and if he didn't fetch the bloody orbs before he came looking for me, then he'd be even stupider than I give him credit for."

"We're not doing it."

"Why? Because the almighty slayer says so? I don't see anybody else throwing out any better ideas on what to do about Big, Scarred and Stupid."

"Maybe if you would shut your mouth for two seconds, then they might have a chance."

Spike held up his hand index finger raised. It was so far in Buffy's face that if she'd actually tried to focus on it she would have gone cross-eyed. After a second, his middle finger was raised to join it, completing that old British gesture that dates back to when William the Conqueror vowed to cut off the bow fingers of every Saxon archer he captured. "I don't hear a rousing chorus of responses, slayer."

"Guys?" Clem tried to intervene. "You're going to wake up Rosa. And nobody would get hurt if you were like Spike's bodyguard. I mean like you guys seem to be more or less inseparable anyway and neither Xander nor this Riley guy would hurt you to get at Spike, least that's how it seems."

"And I still say no," Buffy stood firm, pushing Spike's hand out of her way with her arm, reluctant to initiate any flesh to flesh contact when their emotions were running so high in public.

"And I say hell no," Spike refused to be nursemaided.

"Good, well, that's settled then. Until we come up with a better plan or we get a decent lead with the research, then we might as well pack in for now."

"The only thing that's settled is that I'm not going to be bloody babysat like some soddin' three-year-old."

"Then stop acting like one."

"Me? A year ago, you wouldn't have even blinked at the idea of using me for bait. Hell, a month ago, even. How am I supposed to keep that promise I made you last year, if you're too busy trying to wrap me in cotton wool?"

"I'm not. I just don't see that what we'd gain is worth it compared to what we could lose."

"What we gain is our lives back. Don't you think your sister and your friends have got a right to a vote in this? Do you really think Anya likes the thought that Finn and whoever he's with know how often her and Harris have sex, or Red and Glinda for that matter? Do you think Bit's thrilled by the fact that she can never actually know for sure that any phone conversation she has is private, that there could be someone taping every bitch and moan she made to lover boy this morning? Or that they know when she's on the rag?"

"Enough, Spike. There's no need for that."

Buffy could see her sister's mortified face.

"No, you wouldn't want to think about the truth, would you? Strangers can know all our most intimate secrets, but we have to pretend ignorance. You can't make this decision for everybody, Buffy. I swore to protect your sister with my life. You took that promise. That doesn't just mean standing in the way if someone's trying to kill her. That means not letting some bastard make her life so it's not worth living.

I've already been in one of their cages, and I'm not going to lie back and let them treat our lives like some soddin' fifth grade ant farm that they can sit back and observe and poke a bloody stick in when they feel like it."

"Stop being such a drama queen. For all we know, that pile of rubbish that's in the bin might have been the only bug they had in the whole house."

"Even you don't really believe that, Goldilocks. They. Knew. Even though you never let me in your room. Even though that thing was shut away in your dresser drawer. They. Knew. Your sister might not have known. Your so-called best friends didn't know, but. They. Did."

Anya stood up walking over to stand to one side of the glaring couple. "What exactly is it that you want me to do, Spike?"

"All I'm asking is that you don't mention this bit of the conversation to Harris. You don't have to lie to him, and we're not asking you to do the setting up. If you want, we can time it so that you're up in LA. Just let him follow his natural inclination when it comes to looking for an explanation for things. That's it."

"Okay," the former demon seemed to consider this. "But why do you want to involve him in the first place? I mean why not just cook up something for the cameras and the listening devices?"

"Truth? We don't know how much of what's going on they do see and hear. It's going to look kind of forced if we play out the same scene half a dozen times in case they didn't pick up on it. And I don't kid myself that I can lie well enough to fool them all the time. But I can make Harris believe I'm just using Buffy, because when all's said and done that's what he wants to believe. So, all it'll take is a little nudge and everything's back to conforming with his view of the world. And he can talk to Finn till he's blue in the face and Soldier Boy won't catch him in a lie, because as far as he's concerned he's telling the truth."

"I still don't like it," Buffy said, her voice lowered once more to a conversational level.

"Look, I can see where you're both coming from," Dawn mediated. "But for now, my vote would be to wait. At least until we see what Tara and Willow come up with on the magic front. If we have to, then we go with it, but I think it should be a last resort. And I think the extra time might give us a chance to iron the kinks out."

"I'd go along with that," Willow offered.

Tara nodded her agreement. Buffy's gaze turned to Anya. The blonde hesitated but then nodded. "Maybe if it comes to that, it'll make him think twice before he makes the same mistake again."

"Well, I guess we're both outvoted, pet..." Spike's eyes searched Buffy's face for a cue to her mood.

"Fine," Buffy almost spat. She wasn't used to living in a democracy, not on a small scale anyway and the change wasn't one to which she was adapting well.

"It's kinda early for a bachelor party, anyway." Clem added scratching at an ear with his hand. "And I'm not really sure who we would invite."

"I was thinkin' about every demon from here to LA with a grudge against the Initiative. After all we don't know how many guys Finn might decide to bring with him."

"That sounds like you're ready to start a war, mi amigo. And in wars people get hurt." Marie looked at the vampire appraisingly.

"Marie, no one says you have to be any part of this. You've got the munchkin to look out for and she's already short one parent. But I didn't start this war. I didn't even revive it. Finn could have been in and out with enough troops to do what he theoretically wanted to do, and none of us would have been any the wiser. He chose to interfere in our lives. Now it's time to pay the consequences."

"Spike, you can't kill him." Buffy suddenly realised just how high the stakes had risen in this game.

"C'mon, pet. You know I can't even touch him." Spike's features twisted into a bitter grimace.

"I'm not just talking about you personally. You put troops in the same room as a bunch of demons with grudges and there's going to be bloodshed."

"And that idea's meant to upset me. Vampire. Remember? Pardon me if I don't sing a chorus of 'Don't Cry for Me, Argentina' over a bloke that stuck a stake through my heart."

Spike's hand rummaged in his coat pocket for a second or two before he threw his car keys to Anya. "Take it back to your place when you've dropped the others off. I'll swing by the shop sometime and pick the keys up."

"Where're you going?" Dawn asked.

"Wherever my feet take me," the vampire replied as he swept from the room.








Hiya Sam (if that is actually your name),

Hope you and Riley are well (again, if there really is a you and Riley). Things have been interesting here on the Hellmouth. I'm sure you already know that S and B are engaged, that X left A but then convinced her to run off for a Vegas wedding and that T and I are back together.

You see, when we had a chance to look at the evidence after the fact, we realised that all or some of us had to have been under surveillance for some time, and that Riley had obviously had access to that surveillance. So, I want you to pass on this message to him. Stop the surveillance now. If you don't, we will assume that your intentions are hostile. I think we've proved often enough over the years that we can deal with things for ourselves without outside interference, and unless you continue to provoke us we don't constitute a threat. I also think given our achievements last summer, if you think about it you'll realise that we're not the sort of people you want to piss off.

If either of you ever set foot in S again, this will also be construed as a hostile act. I don't think even B could stop S rounding up every demon in a two hundred-mile radius that has a grudge against the Initiative. To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced that he wouldn't be justified. You tried to play mind games with us all, but especially with B and him. You tried to destroy what little happiness she had found. Be aware that S is no longer viewed as a nuisance to be tolerated. He is one of us. If you act against him, you act against us all.

I think it would be for the best if this were the last communication between us. Believe me when I say that I wish you both well so long as you stay away from us and ours.

W.

Willow bounced the e-mail around some so that no one could prove where it had originated. Sam and Riley would know and that was enough. What they might choose to do about it was a different matter, but hopefully Riley would realise that discretion was the better part of valour in this instance. Willow didn't know anything else she could do to prevent this ending in a bloodbath.
 
Chapter 4.13
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 4 - YOU'RE THE ONE

When the cold wind blows
And the rain keeps tumbling down
And there's no one there
And the morning light shines on

You're the one to lend a hand
You're the one who understands
You're the one to comfort me
The keeper of my heart

(Clannad, Album - anam, Words and lyrics A. Brennan, Additional lyrics M. Brennan)




Chapter 4.13
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Buffy turned back over in a bed that suddenly seemed huge and empty. Her eyes flicked open, seeking the illuminated display of her radio alarm. 2.04 a.m. Two minutes since she had last looked. When she had made to follow Spike, Lily's hand had fallen on her arm in the gentlest possible touch. She could easily have shaken free and gone after him, but she'd found that in a matter of days she'd come to trust the old demon implicitly when it came to matters of the heart.

"Stay," she had suggested. "He go. Blow smoke. No say things he no mean when he come home."

It had taken Buffy a few seconds to realise that the empathic demon had meant that Spike was leaving so that he could blow off steam. It was evident that they had some serious talking to do, and apparently Spike had been trying to avoid making the experience more unpleasant than was necessary. That was just peachy, but even Spike had to have run out of steam after three hours. Buffy threw back the freshly laundered bed linens. She walked over to her wardrobe, and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and hooded tracksuit top, pulling them on over the camisole and boxers she had put on when she made her way to bed over an hour ago.

Just in case, she scribbled a quick note, setting it on her pillow and then shifting Mr Gordo so that his weight would prevent it being blown away by a stray breeze from the open window. She didn't dare shut it in case Spike returned while she was away. Even though he apparently had had a key to the house for some time, she knew that if he returned in the early hours of the morning he'd choose the method of entry least likely to disturb the house's other occupants. Slipping on a pair of running shoes, whose Velcro fastenings seemed to tear through the silence that enveloped their abode; she grabbed a stake from the trunk beneath her bed and slipped out through the window.

She didn't know if it was instinct or habit that drew her steps to the cemetery that housed Spike's old crypt. Pushing open the door, she found the upstairs much as they had left it when they had cleared out the things that Spike had considered worth taking to his new apartment. She drew a gentle hand across the back of the armchair that Spike had favoured. Still her slayer senses tingled and that part that was particularly attuned to the blond menace told her that he was close by.

She crossed to the ladder that led down to the area Spike had professed to be unsafe after the blast she had set off on the occasion of Riley's last visit. Cautiously, testing each step before she put her full weight on it she made her way down into the lightless subterranean room. Her eyes failed her. No matter how long she waited they were unable to penetrate the gloom, so she relied on her slayer senses instead. No other creature drew breath in the vampire's former lair, and her senses told her that there was only one vampire here, and yet an unfamiliar scent pervaded the entire cavern. She edged slowly toward the area where her slayer sense told her the vampire was, never lifting her feet merely sliding them forward meagre inches at a time.

After three or four feet she ran into something solid. Reaching down, she felt with her hands until she was able to confirm that she had reached the collapsed bed that she and Spike had managed so conspicuously to avoid. A tentative crawl across its surface confirmed that it was still empty. On the far side, Buffy regained her feet and began to inch forward once more, inwardly cursing her lack of foresight in not bringing a flashlight or even some matches she could have used to light the remaining candles. She fumbled blindly over piles of rubble, reduced to crawling over the uneven surface until she was almost at the edge of the room. Her senses screamed at her that he was nearby and yet she couldn't find him.

And then, as she made her way across the rubble on her hands and knees she felt something that didn't seem to fit. Tentatively she probed the area that had given beneath her before pulling away. Her hand was damp and not entirely cold. Kneeling she sniffed until she was sure that the scent matched that which now filled the lower area of the crypt. Her hand reached out again, touching the foreign surface once more. The texture was all wrong too. She imagined that this was what an elephant would feel like if you were to feel it, not the flexible and tender flesh of its trunk's underside, but the tough weathered hide that protected its flanks. Moving her hand around, she found that whatever it was only an area about twice the size of her fist was exposed. The rest, whatever it might be, was covered by rubble.

Buffy sat back on her heels to consider what she knew. Something that still retained some of the warmth of life, but which no longer drew breath, was at least partially buried under what had to be a fresh rock fall. Somewhere nearby, her senses told her that Spike lay either passed out or otherwise unable to contact her. Buffy began to peel away the rocks one by one, throwing them as far behind her as she could. Damn vampire.

Just when there's an argument in the offing he goes and gets himself hurt.

It took Buffy twenty minutes to clear the rocks that covered the demon corpse. Then, it took her five minutes to drag it off to one side. The thing must have been about eight and a half feet tall and weighed almost four hundred pounds. If Spike wasn't under here she was so going to kill him when she found him. Moving back she felt around the area where the demon had originally been lying. The first touch of denim had her working her way frantically up his body, brushing aside the few rocks that remained to bar her way. Pulling him up by the lapels of his coat, she managed to get him into a fireman's lift, taking him up the ladder and outside into the moonlight.

When she laid him down on the grass outside her crypt, she flinched at the trail of blood from his temple back into his hair. A black streak amongst the silver threads. Cursing herself for leaving the house so unprepared, she searched his pockets, sending up a silent prayer that his phone would be on him and working. When she found it she contemplated her options. She was reluctant to ask Xander for help. Thankfully, she now had another option. She dialled the number from memory, not needing to consult the directory, which by all accounts would be cryptic at best.

Unsurprisingly, since by her best estimate it had to be at least quarter to three, the answering machine kicked in. The pre-recorded message was the one that had been on the machine when they bought it. Spike had refused to be coaxed into recording one. "Wes, pick up. I know you're there."

Surprisingly enough even though she waited there was no reply. Maybe the former watcher was a really heavy sleeper, or Buffy smiled at the possibility that he hadn't made it home yet. Lori and Marie had both still been in Lily's apartment when the girls had left Wesley there. Maybe the ex-watcher was going to end up with more reasons to stay in Sunnydale than anyone had anticipated.

Buffy hesitated at her other possible course of action. Anya did have the keys to the DeSoto, and unless Wes had admitted to being able to hotwire the car, which she rather doubted (where was Giles when you needed him?) Buffy had expected to have to call her anyway. Nevertheless, there was a world of difference between asking her to leave the passenger door of the car unlocked and stick the keys in the glove compartment and why was it a glove compartment? Why not a map compartment or a sweet compartment? Okay. Focus. Asking Anya to get up at three, drive a car with a blacked out windscreen to a graveyard and help her carry round a literal dead weight probably wouldn't go down very well.

That left just one option.

She got him back inside and stayed put. If she texted Dawn she would get the message when she got up. Of course, she wouldn't actually be there to make sure Dawn got up. With a sigh she explored the options on Spike's phone until she found how to set the alarm. She'd just have to call the house early enough to make sure Dawn got to school on time. She pushed the cell phone into the pocket of her sweatpants.

"What is it with you and the sleep of the knocked unconscious?" she muttered as she hoisted him over her shoulder again, thankful that this time she only had to get him to the sofa. Laying him down on his side as near to the back of the sofa as possible, she stripped off his duster. She curled up next to him, pulling his arm around her waist and then draped his coat over them both like a blanket.

If the awkward vampire wouldn't wake up so they could go home she would just have to visit him in his dreams instead.
 
Chapter 5.01
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 5 - WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it
I think you're gonna feel that you belong
We sweat laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here
Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah

(Alice Cooper, Album - Welcome to my Nightmare)




Chapter 5.01
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Buffy followed the sound of the voices through the indistinct, yet somehow barren landscape. Every step seemed to be a tremendous effort. Her body was almost paralysed with fear, and yet the emotion was not her own. She could make out six or seven distinct voices. Four were cruel and taunting. One seemed to be filled with sadness. One alternately screamed in pain and pleaded for mercy. One seemed mostly neutral with a side order of curious, as if the person he addressed were some soap opera character, who had acted against expectation and he wanted to know how things were going to turn out.

"You killed me for her, but you'll die alone," Drusilla taunted.

"She can't love you. She told you what she really thinks." This voice was Spike's own, the slightest lisp telling her that he was in game face.

"You don't have a soul. There's nothing good or clean in you." Her own voice, each word accompanied by the sound of flesh hitting flesh, provided counterpoint before the vampire continued. Buffy forced her feet on, but always the voices seemed to come from just around the next corner or just over the next rise.

"You might have her fooled for now, but what happens when she sees what you're like inside? When she sees into the darkest corners of your mind? When she sees how much you want to make him scream."

"It's no more than he deserves. He betrayed her. He's a danger to both her and her sister." This was the sad voice, the accent not unlike Giles' but the voice so much softer.

"All true, boy." An Irish brogue. "But they're not the only reasons you want to kill him. You want to hurt him because he was there before you. Because she cried out beneath him as he spilled warm seed inside her. Because she never flinched away from his touch as if it would defile her or tried to hide him away from her friends. Because she took him home to Joyce. One up on even me, but then you always were a mother's boy, weren't you, William."

"If you can't both learn all the bad as well as all the good and love each other still then all you're left with is a world of pain." This was Lorne, though why he should be there Buffy had no idea.

"Do you think your broken dolly can love you?" the vampiress taunted. "No one ever really loved you. Not even your mum."

"That's right, Dru. What was it you told me she said. Should've bashed his useless brains out as soon as he slithered down her leg and spared herself the agony of puttin' up with him for twenty odd years. Didn't think I knew about that, did ya?"

"Naughty daddy. You said you wouldn't tell."

"You should have known Dru would hear every word, whether she was in the room or not, and she knows how much I appreciate a good joke. Come on. How pathetic d'ya have to be t' want to share yer eternal existence with yer poor old mum.

I mean, killin' them's one thing. Turnin' them. That's just too much, or maybe you did want to get back under her skirts? Didn't she say that, as well? You got a taste of Dru and it made you wonder what yer dear old mum had been hidin' under her petticoats? D'you still keep her picture? Oh, dear, tomb go boom, to use the local vernacular. That didn't help the squaddie's case any either, did it? Looked a mite like Joycie, didn't she? Until you staked her?

Look at her." Buffy became aware, once more, of the sound of flesh on flesh. Somewhere in the background, her voice told Spike that she would never be his girl. "A few years and I reckon you'll finally near enough get yer wish. If ya can keep her that is. The nose is different and the eyes aren't blue, but she'll look close enough in the dark, don't you think? Specially if she grows back those curls ya liked so much. I kinda liked it when she was on top. 'Course she didn't have the practice then that she has now, but then you don't look to be havin' so great a time. Nearly did for ya, then. Good job ya'd bought that phone so ya' could ring yer wrinkly Samaritan. Or was it? Wouldn't she have been better off if ya'd just had the decency to stay put till sunrise? Anyway, where was I? Practice. You saw to that. Taught her things as would've made a Whitechapel hoor blush back in the day. Just like you wanted to teach yer dear old mum, huh?"

"It wasn't like that."

"It wasn't like that. or you just don't want to admit even to yourself it was like that? Why would she lie? She knew you. She listened to your drivel and she knew it was like that. She knew what you wanted."

"That thing wasn't my mother."

"And you're not William and I'm not Liam, I suppose? Is that what you tell yourself? No, William, that was your mother and you killed her twice over.

Even if she could accept what you want to do to Soldier Boy, she'll never love you when she finds out about that. Not even the old bat could love you, so why should she?"

For seconds silence reigned, as if Spike or William had nothing more to say in his own defence.

"Stop it!" The voice was almost a whimper. "You can't do this. I'm human."

"Wouldn't give a damn if you were a bloody panda bear in disguise, mate. You're goin' to tell me everythin'."

"The chip."

"I'n't there no more. And even if it was this is just a dream."

"Buffy'll kill you for this. It's who she is. She kills scum like you who harm humans."

"That's as may be. But I'll find out who's behind all this and see them in their grave first. And that hang up you have 'bout bein' human? Wouldn't that require a heartbeat? Always said you weren't all that bright. It makes the torturin' so much easier when you know you don't have to sweat whether they're goin' to die or not. Who knows maybe if I get bored I can use that plastic stake you liked so much."

"You're an animal. You think she'll ever love you when she sees what you're capable of."

"Least I'm doin' it to keep her safe. An' even if I lose her because of it. that's a price I'll pay." There was the slightest tremor in the older vampire's voice and Buffy was frozen in place. The sense of terror was so strong.

"The most terrifying thing he's ever done is let himself hope that you could love him." The gentle clamour of ice-cubes against glass brought Buffy's head around and she found Lorne standing next to her, drink in hand.

"I do."

"Do you?" the anagogic demon asked. "Can you say you love him, even though he's hidden so much of what he is from you? Can you see the worst there is to see and not have it change how you feel about him? He doesn't think so. He thinks he's already lost you."

"I don't know what else there is to know, but I've come to terms with what I know of his past."

"That's not what he's worried about. Not really."

"So what is he worried about?"

"He looks like a man. For you, he's made himself act like a man, but he'll never think like a man."

"I know that."

"He'd kill that ex of yours and sleep better at night for it, if it wasn't for your feelings. He doesn't care whether he's up against humans or demons, well, other than in terms of whether they're a challenge or not. He doesn't care about good or evil, or whether the people you're up against are just misguided. For him there are only two sides in any argument; "us" meaning anyone he cares about, and "them" meaning anyone that in any way threatens the "us"es."

"And? There are plenty of men who think that way too."

"And he believes that when you see who he truly is, once you truly experience how he feels no remorse for anyone who stands in his way, that you'll turn away from him."

"I can't promise unconditionally that I won't. That doesn't mean that the reasons I fell in love with him just cease to exist."

Lorne shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "Every time you've made a choice you've chosen humans over him. And yet, it's not in his nature to let this thing go. They took away his identity, made him feel violated and it's been eating away at his soul for years."

"He does-."

"Can it, sugar. You can't tell me that guy could love you the way he does without a soul. Maybe it's not the same as a human soul, but I thought you were starting to see past the whole Humans First party line. You think having a soul's so great, then take a look over there." As the demon nodded off to his left and ahead of the pair, Buffy could see herself straddling Spike as she beat his face into a pulp. Yet, her fists were kinder than her words.

She had denied everything he had struggled so hard to become, trying to break him back down until he was nothing more than the unfeeling, loveless beast she had once thought him to be. She had had to, because in the early hours of the morning when she'd acknowledged her fears she'd known that she was no longer capable of love. She'd often wondered whether her soul had failed to make the return trip, if that was what was missing, why Spike's chip didn't register her as human.

She had to believe that he was less than human, that his feelings were of no worth, because otherwise the way she'd treated him could never be forgiven.

And she'd been so wrong. about all of it.

Buffy set off at a run, but no matter how hard she tried, the figures didn't seem to get any closer.

"You can't stop it." Lorne seemed to amble along side her. "That memory is a part of him, and whether you like the word or not, it's burned into his soul. That is more real to him than you are."

"I have to stop it. It's wrong. She's wrong. I was wrong."

"You know that. But a part of him will always believe that you were simply treating him as he deserved. He believes he's unlovable, that even when he was human his personality was so inherently flawed that no woman could ever care for him."

"What about his mother? Before, Dru and Angel were talking about her. Surely."

"Not why I'm here, sweetcheeks. I'm not really me you know, I'm not even really him, though he brought me here in the first place. He's too busy tormenting himself to be explaining things through me. I'm just your sounding board. You want to find out about his past you're going to have to speak to him."

"But I can't get to him. He's always just out of reach."

"Then I guess you'll just have to hope he wakes up, pumpkin."

"What do you mean hope? Why shouldn't he wake up?"

"Don't tell me you're lying in his arms and you can't tell he's terrified? Hell, even I don't need a tune to tell me that."

"I can feel it. I can feel it stronger than all my own emotions, but what's it got to do with waking up?"

"Sugar, you've seen what he's doing to himself? Well, he'd rather stay here like this than wake up and have that fear of losing you become reality."
 
Chapter 5.02
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.
SECTION 5 - WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it
I think you're gonna feel that you belong
We sweat laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here
Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah

(Alice Cooper, Album - Welcome to my Nightmare)


Dedication: Thanks to Cherie for her five page email that got me out of my, "I've been setting this up for ages, but now it just seems to be the same as lots of other fics that are about" funk.

Chapter 5.02
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002


"No-o-o-o!" Buffy sat straight up, looking for the source of the scream that had brought her so abruptly back from the Land of Nod, only to realise that that the voice had to have been her own. Shoving her embarrassment to one side, she fumbled through her pockets until she found Spike's phone and opened it up to check the time. Quarter past six. If she had to guess, she would say that Anya would probably be up soon, if not already. Buffy had a feeling that she liked to eat breakfast with Xander, not realising that the carpenter more often than not had second helpings at Revello Drive, so long as he wasn't running late.

Rapidly processing her options, she tried the number in the directory for C & L. A childish voice answered, earnestly repeating the numbers she had dialled.

"Hi, Rosa. You sound as if you've been awake for hours. It's Auntie Buffy. Are you all having breakfast with your grandma?"

"Mommy's here and gramma's here, but Unker Clem's not up yet. Gramma says he's a lazybones."

"I guess your mom'll be leaving for work soon?"

"Uh huh. She likes to get there real early."

"Can I speak to your grandma, then?"

"Mm-hmm." Buffy could hear the sound of the child's footfalls as she dashed across the room with the telephone. "Gramma, Auntie Buffy wants to talk to you."

 




 

After several phone calls and a not inconsiderable amount of work on her and Wesley's part, the vampire was once more ensconced in Lily's spare room, the place Buffy judged least likely to be under any sort of surveillance. Wesley had managed to find the pair of cut-off jeans that the vampire had mentioned using for swimming trunks and had made a circuitous journey to Lily's leaving his bike outside Xander and Anya's to pick up the DeSoto and borrow the orbs again, then onto Revello to pick up the clothes that Dawn had picked out for her sister. Then, he had had to wait at the cemetery gates until Buffy came to meet him. After that, the pair had picked up the vampire and taken him across to Lily's.

A quick clean up had revealed various bruises on his back and the back of his head as well as the bleeding wound at his temple. At a guess, he'd grabbed that thing from behind, and it had managed to bash him into the wall a few times before he'd finally managed to snap its neck. The damage the walls had already taken had probably been compounded when the thing finally fell over, causing the rock fall. Now that Rosa had been temporarily packed off to her mother's apartment again in the company of her private tutor, Buffy and Wesley were preparing for what could only be termed an experiment.

Buffy paced the living room, phone in hand. "Angel, so help me, if I find out that you know more about this than you've said, I'll... well, I don't know what I'll do, but you won't like it."

"Buffy, you have my word. When Dru brought him back, they both said he didn't have any family. It's possible they were lying. I mean, back then, if they hadn't said they were already dead, I would probably have made him kill them."

"So you don't know anything about him siring his mother?"

"Siring his mother? No one sires their mother."

"In his dream you or Dru said he killed her twice over. The only way I can make sense of that would be if he sired her and then killed the vampire she became, but you say she was already dead.

What about a picture. Did he have any photographs of her?"

"Yes, he had one with the two of them together. That's right. I remember now. He said it was taken when she was first diagnosed. If you knew what you were looking for the first signs were already there, but she was still a striking woman."

"An-gel. Diagnosed with what?"

"Consumption. TB. In those days, it was incurable. Degenerative. It was a bad way to go. Drowning in your own blood."

"Did she look like mum?"

"What? No, I don't think so. She was like Spike, all planes and angles."

"What about colouring, and her hair? Did she have curly hair?"

Even over the phone she could hear Angel sigh. "Buffy, it was a black and white photograph that I probably saw half a dozen times, if that, and in those days women her age always wore their hair up in public. I think she might have been fairish, but I really couldn't say for sure. Why are you asking all this, and more to the point, why aren't you asking Spike?"

"It's complicated. Why don't we explain in person next time we're down?"

"Buffy..."

"Angel, it's between us. I'm not going to go into things with you when I haven't had a chance to speak to him."

"What's going on, Buffy?"

"Back. Off. Angel. I'm not going to discuss it over the phone, but I need to speak to your guy, Leon, too."

"It's Lorne."

"Lorne, fine. Put him on the phone... Please?"

"I'll patch you through to his room. Can't guarantee he'll pick up, though."

"He will if I keep calling until he does." Angel shook his head as he transferred the call. His grandchilde was rubbing off on Buffy in the worst possible way.

 




 

"Did you get them?" Buffy asked as a rather stubbly Wesley made his way into the apartment's family room.

"We've got half a dozen different ones we can try. All signed for, but so long as we don't break them Anya says she won't charge us. She was also able to suggest a few incenses we might try. And she didn't bat an eyelid when I gave her the note rather than explaining aloud."

"Just so long as she didn't palm you off with any slug candles." Buffy's response was accompanied by the smallest of teasing smiles.

"So? Are we any farther ahead than we were before I left?" Wesley asked as he sipped at the extra strong black coffee Lily had made for him.

"I'm not sure. Angel says he thought Spike's mother died of TB before Spike was turned, but that maybe she was alive and Spike lied to protect her, but he said in the photo Spike used to have that you could see the signs if you knew what you were looking for. Lorne said he and Spike talked about the claim while they were both prisoners. Nothing specific, though. Just some stuff about how there's a similar sort of thing empaths do where he comes from.

Apparently, it's not all that popular because it quite often ends up with one half of the couple killing the other, or them both going mad or just hating each other. As to specifics with me and Spike, all Spike apparently ever said was that it didn't matter if Dru carved chunks out of his flesh until the scars were gone it wouldn't make a difference. He said even if we had to do the ritual all over again, we would, because neither of us were going to let the other go. So how he got from there to where he is now, I don't have a clue." Buffy shook her head.

"There are doubts and fears in everyone's subconscious that they may not even admit to their waking selves let alone to any others. There's also an old saying, 'Love makes cowards of us all.'"

"Sounds like Shakespeare."

"Probably is," answered the former watcher with a shrug.

"Spike would know." Buffy replaced her own coffee cup back on the counter untouched. "I'd best get changed, and then I'll get him sorted out. I'll come get you when I'm ready."

 




 

Buffy knew that the way she pulled the quilt up over Spike's bare torso was pointless. Without a warm body cradled against him, quilt or no quilt he would just get to room temperature and stay there. Somehow, though, it would have been wrong to leave him uncovered. She surveyed her own reflection in the mirror. Dawn had raided her exercise gear, finding a matching crop top style sports bra and skimpy cotton jersey shorts. Buffy figured it was about the best compromise between maximum skin contact and not giving Wesley an eyeful that she was going to get. She'd managed to manhandle Spike into the cut-off denims. At the foot of the bed, she'd laid out the crystals Anya had sent on top of a silk scarf Lily had provided. A couple of incense cones burned in two small saucers to either side. The pillows from the bed were scattered to one side of the fabric square. It was time to fetch the watcher.

 




 

Wesley sat cross-legged on the floor, to one side of the square whilst Buffy knelt opposite him with the pillows positioned to cushion her fall if as they hoped she fell unconscious. Lily had also come through to the bedroom and she sat perched on the bed stroking Spike's hair as she would for a poorly or fretful child.

"Okay, Wes. Do your watcher thing..."

"Alright, I suggest we start with this one. It's purported to be useful in cleansing one's aura, so it may facilitate our efforts to free Spike from the more troublesome elements of his subconscious."

"Can't hurt."

"Okay, I want you to look into the crystal. Try to find any flaws any impuritites, anything that makes it unique..." Wesley's voice was a soft, deliberate monotone as he tried to get Buffy to slip into a hypnotic trance, so that he might be able to exert some sort of conscious influence over both how soon she fell into a REM state and hopefully also the content of her dreams.

Two hours later, you didn't have to be an empath to sense Buffy's frustration. They had tried using every crystal Wesley had brought back, in combination with three different varieties of incense, the last of which Wesley suspected was probably illegal except under doctor's orders and still Buffy couldn't seem to concentrate enough to go under.

"We all should take break," Lily announced. "Rosa and her teacher come down soon for lunch. I make tea for us now, get snacks, so Rosa no need see William like this."

Buffy sighed. "She's probably right. We don't seem to be getting anywhere." She straightened up, stretching muscles tired from sitting so long in one position.

She slid onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard with her legs stretched out in front of her, her hand moving automatically to caress the other figure on the bed. "So, was this a stupid idea?" she looked at Wes. "Maybe I should just have got Willow to do her dream-walking thing like she did with me? Come to that, Willow reckoned the Spike approach involved slapping me silly? We haven't tried that, yet."

"I don't think physical violence is the answer, somehow. And I doubt Spike would be overjoyed at Willow getting an insight into his innermost psyche. Nor would she be able to allay his fears. Perhaps once we've had a break, you should just try to sleep normally. You said you had only managed a few hours sleep."

"I'm the slayer, Wes. Three, four hours sleep is as much as my body needs. Any extra is a bonus, and it's not really the most restful situation in the world." The pair lapsed into silence, punctuated only by the rasp of Buffy's fingers running through Spike's hair and the rattle of china from the kitchen.

Buffy's attention was so focussed on the blond next to her that she didn't notice the slight shake of her head that Lily gave Wes as she passed him the first cup from the teapot.

"Is herbal blend. Best to drink while hot," the old demon told the slayer. Buffy took the china cup and saucer, and after a small sip decided that Lily's tea-making skills were roughly on a par with her cooking skills in general. She decided she really didn't want to find out what it was like once it cooled if Lily thought it was worse, so she drank the rest of it down as quickly as possible. She placed the cup and saucer down on the bedside cabinet and returned her attention to the sleeping figure next to her.

"At least," she thought, "he doesn't seem to be dreaming all the time." Spike seemed once again to be sleeping normally, though she was only assuming that his eyes would move beneath the lids, since any other time he'd been dreaming she had also been asleep, and this morning it had been too dark when she awoke for her to check. As her eyes started to drift shut, she peeled them open just enough to give the Quarnoth demon a suspicious look.

"What did you put in my tea?"

"Is not tea. Is dried fungus. I take sometimes when no can sleep. No so much as this. Slayer take many doses to make sleep."

"Fungus? You gave me a fungus overdose?"

Wesley sniffed at his own cup. "Mushrooms, Buffy. Skullcap mushrooms if I'm not mistaken."

"Skullcap? That name's supposed to reassure me?"

"It's only fatal in relatively large doses. And as you were saying, you're the slayer. Now just concentrate on soothing thoughts." This time as Wes's voice made its gentle suggestions Buffy seemed to drift off into a gentle sleep. "Try to think nice thoughts about Spike. Remember how happy you were at the ice-rink, how the pair of you were holding hands all the time, that first time you were in LA, how he even lit his cigarette with one hand so he didn't have to let go, how he carried you down the stairs last night over his shoulder. Remember talking about how well he knew your mother. Remember all the times he's made you smile, or laugh. Remember the look on his face when you touched his cheek, back at the Hyperion. Remember how happy he looked with Rosa and how much she loves him..."

As he talked the watcher scooped her up in his arms to lay her on top of the cushions on the floor. They didn't know if it would work, but they were hoping if they could avoid physical contact between the couple until Buffy entered a REM state then she would be in her own dream landscape. Then, if Wes moved them so that they were in contact once more, they hoped Spike would be drawn into her dreams. There were no guarantees, but it was the best shot they had. Between that and the physical contact that would allow her to read his emotions Buffy was going to try to bring him home.
 
Chapter 5.03
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting


 
Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.
SECTION 5 - WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it
I think you're gonna feel that you belong
We sweat laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here
Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah

(Alice Cooper, Album - Welcome to my Nightmare)


Chapter 5.03
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"For he to whom a watcher's doom
     Is given as his task,
Must set a lock upon his lips
     And make his face a mask."

Spike spoke the words in that soft educated tone that she had heard so rarely.

"I don't recall anyone setting a lock on Giles' or Wes's lips. or Travers'. Plenty questions from those watcher's lips," Buffy interrupted. Her own lips pressed against the plane of Spike's shoulder blade as she curled around his back, legs intertwined beneath the silken covers.

Laying aside his copy of the 'Complete Works of Oscar Wilde', Spike smiled and rolled to face her. "I don't think the Council of Wankers were in charge of the prison, pet." He propped up his head with one hand while the fingertips of the other traced back and forth across her forearm where it rested above the covers, raising goosebumps on her flesh.

"That's what they are though, or what they train them to be. An individual prison guard for every slayer, walling them round with duty and obligation till they can barely see the sky."

"You didn't do so bad with Rupes."

"Ah, but you only saw him after I broke him in a bit, not in his 'The World is Doomed' phase. But, no, he came out alright in the end."

"So? Does this mean you've had enough of making me read your homework for one night?" An asymmetrical smile settled on his features, and Buffy felt her stomach tighten at the warmth within his eyes.

"But they sound right when you read them," Buffy mock pouted even as she shifted closer. "All these dead, English guys don't sound right in an American accent. And it's kinda sexy. You know what they say about making learning fun."

"Anglo-Irish." Spike's thigh pressed between hers as their hips shifted ever closer.

"Picky. Deceased poets of transatlantic origin, then. Satisfied?" Buffy deepened the pout, knowing that Spike would find it all but irresistible.

A wicked grin lit up his face, and the butterflies in Buffy's stomach started doing the lambada. "Not nearly," the vampire responded. He leaned in to take her lower lip between his, nibbling gently until her smile prevented her from maintaining the mock pout.

"You're so beautiful when you smile,"

"Thanks," Buffy answered in a slightly sarcastic but teasing tone. "And I guess the rest of the time I look like hell."

"Nah, least ways not since you ditched the cow hat and the stripey polyester. Just, when you smile, it's like the whole world is brighter."

Buffy looked perplexed. "I don't know whether to hit you for the first bit or kiss you for the second."

In a heartbeat, Spike had rolled them both so that he looked down from above her. The warmth in his eyes turned suddenly sultry, dark and dangerous. "What's wrong with both? You know I like it rough sometimes."

Buffy's eyes clouded over with sadness. "Rough is fine, but if I hit you anywhere outside of a sparring ring again, then that's abuse. You deserve better than that. I won't willingly hurt you again."

"A little slap isn't exactly goin' to hurt." Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Okay, yes, it will. That's the point, but it doesn't do any harm."

"Listen to me, Spike. How I treated you before was wrong. I don't want." Buffy paused, unsure how to express herself and in that moment, fear ran through her body as if her arteries had turned to ice. If Buffy had retained her knowledge of the waking world she might have realised that Wesley had just moved her body. As it happened, coherent thought had nothing to do with it.

She sucked in a deep breath, hissing as the borrowed emotion sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. After that, her reaction was instinctive. Her arms and legs reached around the man above her, pulling him down until his cheek rested against hers. Her body wrapped itself tight around him, and her hand stroked patiently through his hair as she whispered what she hoped were soothing words into his ear. She unconsciously avoided any declarations of affection, knowing that only when she knew and accepted the worst about him, would he accept the validity of her claims.

"Shhh, baby. You're mine, and I won't let you go. You saw our future. You saw where we're going. There's some bad stuff we've got to go through; some stuff we need to deal with. I don't have guarantees, but I want to try. I think we can make this work." Gradually the fear she sensed eased from excruciating to merely paralysing. Buffy's fear began to rise to meet the semblance of Spike's that she could feel within her. The thought that he might slip from her grasp was too much for her to bear.

"Will, I need you with me. I need you so much. For better or worse, we are joined. We are one, and if you don't come back to me, I will never in the rest of my life feel like a complete person again." The fear didn't leave, or even lessen any further but it was joined by a dawning hope.

Buffy shifted her head just enough to give her the angle she required to sink her teeth once more into his flesh at the join of shoulder and neck. "Mine," she reminded him forcefully.

Spike seemed to respond more positively to the primal gesture than to any of her other overtures so far. Yet, he hesitated before he made his response, and Buffy held her breath as she waited.

"Always, my love."

Tears slowly pooled in Buffy's eyes as she used the hand that was enmeshed with his blond curls to pull him back until she could look in his eyes.

"I'm going to hold you to that, you know?" she half-asked and half-told him.

"I hope so, pet. I hope so."

"Never leave me." Buffy pleaded before she claimed his lips in a desperate kiss. Somewhere in his subconscious the words triggered thoughts of his mother, that particular scar to his psyche being so recently reopened. He stiffened in Buffy's arms, half expecting the arms and legs that enfolded him to, somehow in the way of dreams, metamorphose into those of his parent. He pulled back away in anguish and saw only Buffy gazing back at him with love and concern. Now that his senses were no longer awash with his own fears, he could feel her emotions radiating into every pore in his body through their connection.

"Spike, would you just hold me?" Buffy asked, hoping for the best, and yet still worried by the nagging sensation that when she awoke he might be gone.

"As you wish, love. As you wish."

Buffy sighed her contentment. Perhaps the hardest part still lay ahead, but for now he was home again.








"Is done."

"What? You're sure?" Wesley asked, laying aside the cup of Earl Grey that Lily had brewed after carefully rinsing out the teapot. "It's only been seconds since we put Buffy next to him."

"He is less." The demon shrugged in lieu of the word, which temporarily eluded her. "She is at peace. She knows he come back."
 
Chapter 5.04
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 5 - WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it
I think you're gonna feel that you belong
We sweat laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here
Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah

(Alice Cooper, Album - Welcome to my Nightmare)




Chapter 5.04
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Willow slid her book bag under the table and gave Tara's hand a gentle squeeze. The blonde looked up from the text she had been immersed in and gave the newcomer one of those smiles that made her heart skip a beat. She stood up and welcomed the redhead with a hug. In an area like the public library, that was as much of a display of affection as either girl was comfortable with.

"How're we doing?" Willow whispered as they took their seats side by side at the table.

Tara picked up the muted cell phone in front of her and checked for messages. "Still no word from Buffy and not too much headway with the research, but I did get all the notes I missed photocopied and I've read through them. I found one spell that'll disable any bugs or cameras, or I think it will. It was originally used to prevent magical scrying, but I think it'll work. Unfortunately, it might disable all the phones in the area as well, since I don't see how it would tell the difference between the microphone in the phone and any other listening device. And it would be a bit of a give-away that we knew we were being watched or whatever so I think we'd have to discuss it with the others before we try it."

Willow looked slightly uncomfortable and seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second before she decided not to say anything. Tara, however, was busy extracting the relevant book from a small stack on her right and opening it up at the page she had book-marked. By the time she passed the volume over to the redhead Willow had schooled her features back to normal.

"You think it would be bad if they knew that we knew?"

Tara shrugged. "It might provoke a confrontation. I mean Spike seems to favour that approach anyway, so maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing, but we need to be ready for whatever they might throw at us before we do anything like that. And that means Buffy has to find a way to convince Spike not to unleash the dogs of war on some guys that're just doing what they think is right."

"But if he didn't have any warning he wouldn't have any dogs to release."

"But then we'd potentially be sitting ducks. They could just pick us off one by one. You know what they did with Oz. Anyone who's different is fair game, anyone who doesn't conform to their definition of human. When all's said and done the only person out of us all with no magical ability, nothing that makes him out of the ordinary, is Xander. Everybody else, there's some sort of supernatural justification for them to just do whatever they want."

"But Riley's our friend. sort of. He wouldn't-. He tried to help Oz escape."

"He's not Spike's friend or Clem's or little Rosa's. How much sympathy would they get? And besides, there's no way to know that Riley would be in charge. If somebody more senior tells them to jump, it's not really going to make a difference whether Riley jumps with them if there's forty other guys."

"You don't think we could warn them off or something."

Tara shook her head. "If we were enough of a threat to scare them away, we'd be too much of a threat for them to leave alone."

Willow's face crumpled slightly, "You think?"

Tara shrugged. "Kinda moot, anyway."

"Well. maybe. maybe not." the redhead twisted awkwardly in her seat and made what Tara had christened her cookie face, because generally it meant that at some point in the near future the redhead would be doing some baking. "Maybe they might already know."

"Will?"

"Well. I might have sent Sam an email last night."

"You might have? Or you did?"

Willow's vaguely apologetic grin widened and her eyes dipped to the floor. "Did," she mumbled in the direction of her shoes. Then she seemed to rush to her own defence the words tumbling over each other. "But it was only to save there from being trouble. I thought if we told Riley that we knew about the surveillance and that we wanted it stopped, and that we knew that he'd messed with Buffy and Spike, that he would think twice about coming back and that way Spike wouldn't kill him or at least get him killed and Buffy wouldn't have to kill Spike 'cause she's all happy with him but if he helped kill people then she would still have to... you know, and I didn't want that so. email."

"Oh, Will." Only two words, but they conveyed a wealth of disappointment. "We'd best head over to Clem's and see if we can talk to Buffy or that Wes guy or someone about this away from all the bugs and stuff." The blonde started packing away the bulky tomes that she'd only fairly recently hauled from the house on Revello to the library, in hopes of several hours uninterrupted research.








"So? You had fun last night at your "family" thing?"

"Not too bad. Spike was right about the cushion thing though."

"And the whole deal about the bike?"

"It's cool. Buffy's going to try to meet me from school so we can go shopping for leathers and boots and stuff. unless she can't leave Spike." Her gait as they made their way through the cafeteria bore an uncanny resemblance to that of one John Wayne, but Brandon was way too polite to comment.

"And why wouldn't she be able to leave Spike? He seemed plenty old enough to look after himself to me." Brandon asked.

"Actual years or mental years?" Dawn stuck to the story that had been in the note which Wes had given her this morning, allowing any watchers to think it was a message from Buffy. "He cracked his head on the corner of the bath last night. They said to keep waking him up and stuff through the night in case he had a concussion, but I don't know whether he had or not, so she might be able to come and she might not. She'll text as soon as she knows one way or the other if she can leave him."

"So have you got anything planned if she can't make it."

"I thought I might try to score a night at the Bronze either way, seeing as how I got an A on my Shakespeare essay. There's a band on tonight, a couple of the guys that used to be in Dingoes with Willow's ex. So, maybe she'd go if we asked."

"Well, we could go, like together, on a date, without your sixteen chaperones, if you wanted."

Dawn grimaced slightly. "No bike gear, no ride. No ride, no date. Buffy's kind of paranoid about the crime rate. She won't even let me walk back from Janice's without her or Spike or Willow meeting me if it's after dark."

"No offence to your sister, but I think I might be more of a deterrent than her or Willow. I can leave the bike at your house, walk you there, walk you home and then pick up the bike again to go back home."

Dawn considered. "She just might go for that."








"So you think you stay in Sunnydale, Wesley?" Lily asked as they whiled away the time until the re-emergence of Spike and Buffy.

"I'm really not sure, right now. It's good to feel part of something again, to be fighting the good fight. I just don't know about the move into retail. And to be even more precise to be moving into retail where I would be spending all day every day with someone only three years out of high school."

"But Anyanka is old soul."

"I just don't know. It's still a case of spending an awful lot of time alone with one other person. I mean Cordelia and I eventually became friends, but that was because our whole lives ended up revolving around the work we did. It gave us common ground that we wouldn't otherwise have and I think it would be safe to say that Cordelia is mature beyond her years. And the fact that there were always at least three of us and we weren't in one room together all the time helped a great deal.

On the other hand, her friend came to visit. She was in the office one day . She spent the entire time whining about her ex and how much she had loved him and how badly he had treated her, moping around asking inane questions, spilling her coffee in the computer. Harmony. Never has a girl been so inaptly named -."

"That's our Harmony," Buffy cut in from the doorway. "Or should I say Spike's Harmony."

A voice echoed through from the bedroom. "I heard that. And that was a long time ago. And-and there were mitigating circumstances."

Buffy mouthed the words, "Rebound. A hundred years worth of rebound."

"Spike was the wicked ex we heard so much about?" Wes asked incredulously.

"Touchy subject, but occasionally fun if you want to watch him squirm," Buffy admitted. "Em, we were kind of wondering what happened to our other clothes?"

"I know you sleep for while and they all dusty, so I wash and mend." Lily indicated two neatly folded piles of laundry and the hanger that hung from a hook on the back of the door into the living room over which Spike's duster had been draped, sponged down and crossbow holes neatly stitched.

"So, how is Harm these days?"

"Oh this was some time back, probably a year and a half to two years ago, but she didn't really part with the Angel Investigations team on the best of terms. Something about how she tried to use us to buy into some food-bank scheme that some ex-pyramid salesman had organised. Cordelia let her go, but I think if she ever came back to LA she would be doing her best to avoid us all."

Once again, the voice sounded from the bedroom. "Are you going to fetch me some trousers or should I come out there and get them so you can continue your little snigger session unabated?"

"Don't you dare!" Buffy shouted and grabbed the pile of Spike's clothes. "Someone stripped off before they realised they didn't have anything else to put on." She strode to the bedroom doorway, tossed the bundle in and returned to her spot at the entrance to the family room.

In the meantime, Lily had her own question for Wes. "You have PI licence?"

"Well, yes. When we set up on our own after Angel fired us all I applied for my licence. In fact, no one currently working there has one now."

"You want to stay in Sunnydale, Marie get you work. She take work where maybe demons do bad things and human take blame. Sometimes the DA office, they hire detectives to find witnesses or find out what really happen. If detective no know demons, he no use in this town. He no know what possible, what not possible, who lie, who tell truth."

"But surely, most of this wouldn't be admissible as evidence."

"Marie say, 'always know the answers to all the questions, if you can. Then, even if you can't actually prove the truth, you can often prove where something is a lie.'"

"That makes sense," Buffy admitted. "What d'ya think, Wes? Beats the pants off retail in my book."

"I must admit being my own boss has a certain appeal. I'll certainly bear it in mind. It does sound rather more interesting than being a purveyor of slug-scented candles."

"Tell me about it." Buffy expressed her sympathy.

"Perhaps I should speak to Marie about what sort of opportunities there might be. Maybe I should make an appointment to see her at her office?" Wes asked.

"I speak to her when she home tonight. Get her to phone you," Lily assured him.

"Wes, I've got one more huge favour to ask." Buffy did her best puppy dog look. "Me and Spike need some alone time to sort things through, but I was supposed to take Dawn to buy bike gear after school. Is it possible you could pick her up from school and take her to the store, grab something to eat, and then drop her at home? We can give you Spike's Visa card."

"Spike has Visa?"

"Actually, he's very recently become an additional cardholder on my account, what with his stunning lack of credit history, but it works and since I forgot to include my purse in the list of things for Dawn to give to you this morning it's all we've got. The only thing he can't do with it is make cash withdrawals."

"Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, I guess."

"Huh?"

At this point Spike appeared behind her in the doorway, his arms wrapping around her waist. "That was a yes, pet. So I suggest you put some proper clothes on before he changes his mind and we'll take him to pick up his bike."

"Isn't it rather hypocritical to send me to pick her up on a motorbike when you've expressly told her she can't go on Brandon's until after she has all the gear?"

"Probably," the vampire conceded. "But, then, we trust you. We don't trust Evel Knievel junior. That and it's just about spitting distance."

"Ew, your English is gross," his fiancée complained.

"I thought you were going to get changed?" he countered.

"That'd be difficult with you attached at the waist."

Spike released his grip, and went over to settle matters with Wesley whilst Buffy donned some more appropriate clothing.

Spike shoved the piece of plastic into Wes's hand along with enough cash to cover meals for two. "Get her the best stuff she'll actually wear. What I mean is if she goes for the leather trousers that have the lacing up the side rather than the ones with all the padding on the knees and stuff, that's fine if it means she'll wear them more of the time. And if she doesn't want actual biker's boots then I don't mind so long as the ones she gets are sturdy enough for the job. Just imagine it was your daughter you're kitting out.

An' feel free to get something for yourself as a thank you for today. I mean, if you don't see anything, fine, we'll probably pick you up a bottle of something decent, but since you're going there anyway, if you see something that takes your fancy, some panniers, maybe a spare helmet that isn't bright pink. As long as it's not a whole new bike. I think Buff might get upset if her wedding fund went down by the cost of a Fireblade."

"I suspect she would, but, really, it's not necessary. It's the least I can do considering the free board and lodging and the fact you made a point of asking me to come."

"That wasn't a favour to you, watcher. That was us taking advantage of His High and Mighty Angelicness acting like a total git. If you stay, it's goin' to be bloody useful for us to have you around."

"You have to admit there were grounds for his behaviour."

"For the instantaneous gut reaction, maybe. For the stubborn, aggrieved martyr act the wanker's been holdin' onto ever since, bugger that." Spike might have made some effort to improve relations between himself and his grandsire, but that didn't mean he was afraid to speak up when he thought he was at fault.

"Yes, well, still, the welcome's appreciated."

"Yeah... well, anyone as can help keep her safe and well 'll always get a welcome from me."








Willow and Tara made the turn onto the block where Lily lived just in time to see the DeSoto's taillights disappearing in the distance.
 
Chapter 5.05
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting






Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 5 - WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it
I think you're gonna feel that you belong
We sweat laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here
Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah

(Alice Cooper, Album - Welcome to my Nightmare)




Chapter 5.05
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"Tell Dawn, if it's after half past eleven when we get in, we expect her to be in bed." Buffy rolled down the car window, to call out to the former watcher as the car pulled away, leaving Wes to start up his bike.

"Will do. Take care," the watcher called back, unable to come up with an entirely suitable good luck expression for the occasion.

"Where to, pet?" the vampire asked as they pulled up near the first intersection.

"How about back to mine, and I can put on some jeans and get my coat and helmet and stuff? Then, we can take this old lady back to yours and swap for the bike?"

"And then?"

"I seem to recall you expressing a preference for the coast road."

"Sounds like a plan. Have you eaten today?"

"Other than tea made from potentially lethal mushrooms? No. And just when I thought Lily might be starting to like me."

"She is, I think. There's a Tex-Mex diner about an hour up the coast that we could try, if you can wait that long. Make up for you missing out on Saturday? And if we go up the coast, we can just drive as far as we want without worrying that we're going to hit LA again."

Buffy's attention was caught by the way Spike was squinting in the sunlight that was newly able to penetrate through to the car's interior. Orbs or no orbs, he was still highly photosensitive.

"Sorry about the holes in the paint job. Wes just couldn't drive it without making a couple of gaps to see through. I'll get some paint tomorrow."

"S' Okay. I've been thinking about scraping it all off. It just means if we have to take her out through the day, then you have to drive and I stay in the back under a blanket. Thing is, we have to keep her out of sight of Bit's lover-boy, otherwise, and she's bound to be parked up at your place sometime when he shows up, or we're going to need her to pick Bit up or something."

"You'd do that?" Buffy asked.

"Well. yeah. You've driven her before, haven't you?" Spike knew exactly which part of his statement she had meant.

"Not with your permission."

"Buffy, there's no reason you can't drive better than most, except confidence. Your reflexes are better. Your co-ordination is better. You just need practice and maybe a few proper lessons to refresh your memory, that's all."

"Are you offering?"

"To pay for them, yeah. To teach you, no way. Don't you think we argue enough as it is? Besides, you don't want to pick up ninety years worth of bad habits."

Buffy flushed slightly and gazed at him sideways through her lashes. "I thought I already had, and I like when we argue sometimes, or at least the making-up part."

Spike let out a low groan. "Keep that up, and we won't even get to your place, pet. And talking is going to be way down on the list of activities."

"As long as it's on the list somewhere, does it matter?"

Spike sighed as he made the turn onto Revello. "That would depend on how long we have before the next crisis."








True to his word, just over an hour later, Spike pulled in at a roadside diner. Even though it was too late for most lunch patrons and too early for most evening customers, half a dozen cars were spaced out in the lot to the side of the building. Around the other side of the building there was a filling station, but the front of the diner was clear from obstruction so that those patrons lucky enough to get a window seat had an unobstructed view of the beach on the other side of the road. Waves crashed against the few boulders that poked up through the smooth pale sand.

Spike took off his sunglasses and lit up a cigarette even before Buffy had climbed off from behind him. His jaw was clenched so tight she didn't need to see his eyes or touch his skin to know how tense he was.

"How about we just grab a snack for now?" Buffy suggested. "We can go for a walk on the beach and get a proper meal when we get back?"

"Sure?" the vampire asked.

"Sure. I don't think I could do a meal justice until we get things straight between us."

Spike gave her a wry smile, head tilted forward so that he looked at her through his lashes. "It'd be a shame if you couldn't appreciate their chilli-and-chocolate cheesecake."

Buffy gave him a sceptical glance, as if she thought he was making up the strange-sounding dish.

"Got to be tried," he added, before throwing down the half-smoked cigarette and holding out his hand.

"Trust you to find somewhere that even puts chilli in the desserts," Buffy responded as she placed her hand in his and let him draw her with him into the restaurant.

"But it works. You'll see."

The diner was decorated with various items that were meant to suggest the Tex-Mex theme Spike had led her to expect. Old wanted posters, or more likely more recent replicas stained with coffee to suggest ageing and framed prints from photographs of Pancho Villa and various others adorned the walls. All the tables were finished with brightly painted tiles, and when Buffy saw the sizzling fajita platter that was brought to the next booth she realised why.

A middle-aged waitress came bustling over almost as soon as they slid into the last window booth, hands still clasped across the table. "Hi, I'm Mary. Can I take your drinks order while you have a look at the menu?"

Spike drew his eyes away from Buffy long enough to give her a brief smile. "Just a coffee for me, please, pet. Espresso, if you do it."

"And I'll have a cappuccino, and I've been told the chocolate cheesecake is un-missable." Buffy added her order without looking at the menu.

"Better make that two. She'll get upset if I pinch bits of hers."

The woman smiled at Buffy as if pleased by her compliment. "Guess that date of yours has taste as well as looks. It'll only be a couple of minutes."

"Eatin' your pudding before your main course. What would Joyce have said?"

"Go for it, enjoy yourself, life's for living and where's my piece?"

"Probably would, at that."

Buffy tightened her grip on his fingers before she asked her next question. "Not to be all Freud, but before you were turned, what was your mom like?"

Now that he was in conscious control the subject didn't engender the primal fear it had when he was asleep. Still, there was a brief panic as the question caught him unawares.

"Remember what you told me. No walls. No barriers. No secrets. Not between us," Buffy cajoled gently.

Spike gave a sardonic laugh. "That was when I thought I'd nothing to hide." He gave a shrug, acknowledging that one way or another Buffy would find out the whole story.

"She was a nice lady. She was like Joyce would have been if she'd been born to a society where she wasn't expected to work and didn't have to, if her family were her entire world. or so I thought." His voice was first sad and then took on a bitter twist.

"Spike?" Buffy's voice was filled with the same concern he could feel in her touch. "Let me. I think I've got most of this thought through. Just tell me if I go off base. Okay?"

The vampire gave a shallow nod and Buffy paused as the waitress returned to the table with their order. "I passed on your compliments to my husband, so he gave you both a bigger piece than usual," she told them.

"Thanks, luv." Spike smiled at her again.

"Hope your girlfriend likes it. There are some days I think that's why I married him." She jerked her head toward the kitchen door. "I used to be a size 8 until he started feeding me." Another smile and she had returned to her station at the cash register.

"Okay. let's see," Buffy began, her voice low enough that only Spike could hear it. "I think the last few months before you were turned, you were in a similar position to where I was just over a year ago, with one slight difference: we always had hope that mom would pull through. You knew that your mom wouldn't. It was just a matter of time. How 'm I doing?"

Spike shrugged, his eyes slightly defensive, but unable to argue with anything she had said.

"You told me once that when you were turned it was like a revelation. You were strong, powerful. You never felt better. That's what you thought you were giving her. You loved her and you wanted her to share what you saw as a gift you'd been given."

Spike's eyes were now fixed on the table, but he didn't contradict her, and through their bond she could feel his misplaced shame. "But there was a problem. You were far more special than you think. Maybe Dru could see that, and that was why she chose you. You see, you knew that human or vampire, you still loved your mother. It was only natural that you expected the same thing to happen when you turned her.

So, when what rose up turned out to be a demon with your mother's memories but none of her emotions, and that demon used those memories to attack you, the only way you could make sense of it was to believe the things it said.

Spike, that thing wasn't your mother. Your mother was a fine, loving lady who raised a son to be a good, caring man. You were her entire world. Turning her was a mistake, but in your shoes based on your own experience, I can't say that I'd do anything different. If I had thought there was a way to keep mom with us, so that it really was her, I'd have done it in a heartbeat.

You were no more at fault for what you did than Wesley was for kidnapping Connor. It's the same thing. You did what you thought was right."

"How can you be so sure?" the vampire's voice was filled with doubt still.

Buffy reached across the table with her free hand to brush her thumb across his cheek. "Because I know all the good and all the capacity for love that's inside you, even though some would say that it shouldn't be, and that has to be learned. That comes from your family, from the people who taught you how to be the man you became.

And you know it too. I remember, back when I was in your head, you thought that the things you loved about me and Dawn were the things we got from mom.

Your mother loved you. She loved you when you were human and if she could see you here today, she would love you still. And I think intervening years not withstanding, she'd be proud of who you are, just like I am."

Buffy drew her hand away from his face, but only so she could use it to steady herself as she leant across the tabletop to brush a tender kiss against his lips. It was sweet and sincere and it conveyed a wealth of feeling, and it didn't take Spike long before he reciprocated everything in kind.

Over in a far corner of the room, the waitress knocked gently on the serving hatch that led through to the kitchen, and when she nodded in the couple's direction, her husband took her hand, both of them seeing a younger reflection of themselves in the blond couple who were so obviously and deeply in love.
 
Chapter 5.06
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 5 - WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Welcome to my nightmare
I think you're gonna like it
I think you're gonna feel that you belong
We sweat laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here
Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
Yeah

(Alice Cooper, Album - Welcome to my Nightmare)




Chapter 5.06
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Buffy had never thought that just eating could be such an erotic experience, but each mouthful of the dessert that the vampire fed to her was like drowning in his kisses. First there was the tingling, mouth-watering, slow burn on her tongue from the chilli seasoning in the cookie base, like the fire he could ignite inside her with just a lazy glance. Then, there was the rich, velvet-soft darkness of the chocolate filling, decadent as the darkly sensual world to which he had introduced her, its taste enhanced by that gentle heat in a way she could never have imagined. Lastly, the cool sweet taste of whipped cream with the lightest hint of vanilla, soothing and cleansing her mouth so that the fire died down low until the next mouthful, like the coolness of his touch offering comfort and solace.

"Oh god, that should be illegal."

Spike smiled. "I guess you like it, then?"

"Mmhmm." Buffy managed as she savoured the next piquant-sweet mouthful. Her eyes drifted closed, to better concentrate on the sensations in her mouth. Long seconds passed before she spoke again. "Think we could get them to do enough for the reception?"

Spike's smile went up another notch. "I guess you're not easy scared off then, love. Thought there's still things we need to sort out."

"Things we need to sort out, sure," Buffy agreed, "but there's nothing we can't sort out. Is there?"

"I don't know, love. I really, honestly don't know. That depends on how much we're both prepared to bend. Whether you can accept the parts of me that I can't change."

"We'll just have to see, won't we? But I'm thinking any guy that would give up half of his share of this cheesecake is one I want to hold onto."

"And I thought the saying said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"Yeah, well they got that wrong by about six inches."

Spike took on a mock-aggrieved expression.

"Fool," Buffy giggled. "You know that's not what I meant."

"And you know that I would love you even if we had never so much as kissed each other."

"But the attraction came first."

"You know it did. You know there was a heat between us even back when I was chained up in Rupert's bathtub. Even the bloody watcher knew."

"What?" Buffy looked shocked at the suggestion.

"All that sexual tension. Rupes walked into the living room and said that if we didn't kill each other he might just lend a hand. He's not naïve, you know. He probably recognised it for what it was before you did."

"That so was not about sex. You were unbearable. A total pig."

"And it provoked a reaction and it scared you so much you had Bit subbing for you for the rest of the week."

"I was so not afraid of you."

"Didn't say you were. You were afraid of how I made you feel, and if truth be known, I wasn't exactly over the moon about the state of play either, but I'd have gone with it."

"Id boy."

"This from someone who nearly wet her knickers just eatin' that cheesecake."

"Shhh." Buffy hissed. "You are still a total pig."

"Never denied it, love. Now, here." Spike held out the last mouthful of his dessert just in front of her mouth and after a second's hesitation her lips closed over the fork to draw the confection in.

"D'you know that's the exact same look you get when-."

"Don't!" Buffy cut him off with a low hiss and a kick to the shin under the table. "Don't even think of saying whatever it is that you were going to say."

"Me? What could you possibly think that I was going to say?" His eyes twinkled with mischief as he teased her mercilessly.

"My mom didn't bring me up to repeat the sort of thing I suspect you were going to say."

"No," Spike's voice softened. "She brought you up to be just perfect." For the first time since they had entered the restaurant Spike relinquished his grip on Buffy's hand. His fingers brushed against her neck and jaw line as he drew her close for a chocolate flavoured kiss. They skirted over and around her claim mark and then back to her jaw, only to return again tantalising seconds later.

She moaned his name as she finally drew back for air, her eyes glazed with need.

Spike tossed enough bills on the table to cover their food and a generous tip. "C'mon, pet I think it's time we found somewhere a bit more private." With a wave to the watching waitress, he took Buffy's hand once more and drew her toward the exit.








They stopped often as they made their way along the beach, to kiss, or sometimes more, as their hands explored familiar curves and planes beneath their coats. Yet, for a long way in either direction the beach, though not crowded, was too populated to allow more than an occasional furtive caress.

Finally, they rounded a headland and saw the beach stretching clear before them. Buffy dropped her small backpack down on the sand and started to shrug her way out of her coat, but before she could, Spike's hands were there, easing it from her shoulders. He folded it over his arm before removing his own, more battered coat and laying it out for them to rest on. He placed hers so that it acted like a pillow without actually resting on the sand itself. He looked on, amazed, as Buffy pulled her top off over her head, not expecting her to be so brazen when they were still scant yards away from the beach's other occupants, and then he realised that she wore her bikini top underneath.

Pushing her top into her backpack she moved over to the vampire, tugging his shirt free from the waist of his jeans. "It's only fair."

"All I can say to that is, if you're plannin' on taking those jeans of yours off, you damn well better hope you don't get me arrested for indecent exposure." All the same, his hands moved to undo the shirt's buttons at her bidding.

"That would be why those cut-offs of yours are in my backpack, but for now I just want to know what you're feeling while we talk all this stuff through."

"I guess we have to?" Spike asked, his gaze wandering up and down the curves of Buffy's body.

"You're the one who pointed out that we don't know how long we've got until the next crisis. And if it's having the sort of effect on you that it did last night, then we can't just ignore it."

"Sure? They say ignorance is bliss."

Buffy lay down on the outspread coat. "Come here, you, and hold me."

Spike let his shirt drop onto the pale dry sand, and then he lay down beside her, one arm propping up his head so that he could watch her while his other hand began to trace lazy patterns on the bare flesh of her midriff, side and back. As Buffy wrapped her arms around him drawing him in closer against her, Spike would have been the last person to admit out loud that his feelings weren't about sex or desire, but all about home and belonging. But then, it wasn't as if he needed to say them aloud for her to know.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. "We went into this claim thing blind. We didn't know how it would work or even if it would work, but I believe that last vision we saw together, the one of our wedding day, was a true one, or at least a possible outcome. So, I don't think there's anything in your thoughts that can affect me enough that I would ever want to give you up."

"Buffy, you shouldn't be touched by thoughts like that."

"Try me. I'm tougher than you think."

"I know that, love, but you still have feelings for the big bland wanker. It's there in your eyes every time you try to defend him or make up excuses for him. It was there in the way you needed comfort when you found out he had a new life, if I'd but realised it at the time."

"Spike, just let it out. All of it. Riley, the Initiative, the chip, whoever's watching us now, everything. Let it go. We need this out in the open."

Buffy gasped for breath as if she were drowning when he finally was unable to deny her demands any longer and the wave of cold, intense, black hatred swamped her. Her grip on him loosened at the shock of the almost physical impact, but then she consciously pulled him close once more, determined to ride out this roller coaster to the end. Bloodlust, jealousy, pain and a thirst for vengeance roiled through her as she held him tight.

Through it all, she struggled with her shock and her horror, to offer him her love. He had never offered her anything less, even when she had acted out her darkest impulses, so how could she condemn him for mere thoughts, however corrupt they might be? She called to mind Wesley's words as she had drifted off to sleep earlier that same day, all the joy, love and caring Spike had brought, in just a few precious weeks. She knew that the time when she might have been able to let him go was long past.

"Spike, it's okay. We'll be okay, me and you, all of us. Just try to hold back on doing anything rash. There's no hurry. We've got plenty of time to sort all this out. We'll find a way to deal with it that doesn't involve anyone getting hurt. For our sakes as well as theirs. Think about Rosa if she lost Clem or Lily. or her Uncle Will, or if we start something and they took Rosa.

If this turns into a war, you're going to end up being their number one target, and I need you here with me. I'm never going to not need you. Just give us time to find a way through this where no one gets hurt, please."

"Buffy, this is bigger than you think. Word's been filtering through from Central America, Africa, all over the world, ever since Finn upped and ran. Remember what I said about the Indians that Thanksgiving? Well, that's what's been happening all over the globe, except this time 'round we've got demons instead of Indians, and Finn and his band of brothers aren't setting up reservations or sending missionaries. It's genocide. Communities that have existed in isolation for centuries are being sought out and exterminated like vermin all because men can't be happy until they have the whole world to themselves, and if the demons defend themselves or their territory then that's just proof that they needed killing. And when they run out of things to kill in the jungle or the mountains, where do you think they'll come next?"

"Don't tell me you're going all politically correct on me?"

"No. If I'm honest, I don't give a toss about a bunch of lizard men in darkest Borneo or wherever, but I needed to put it in terms that you would understand. Sooner or later, they'll be coming for me and Clem and Lily and Rosa. Maybe even the spell-casters, too. Didn't I hear they locked up that fella that turned Rupes into a Fyarl demon, just put him in a box and threw away the key? No civil rights. No trial. So, where does that leave Red and Glinda, maybe even Wes? Then there's Bit and Anya. They're human as far as anyone knows, but I'm sure Finn and his goons'd like to check up on that. And what exactly is it that makes a slayer a slayer? Is it something they can replicate? How do you fancy being the donor for some cloning experiment or something? Do you get my drift, now? Buffy, I was around for the rise of the Third Reich. I watched people deny what was happening until it was too late. I don't want that to happen to the people I care about."

"It won't. When and if they come, we'll be ready. Willow is more powerful than they could ever dream. With time, we can get contingency plans in place. We took on a god and won. We can take whatever they throw at us."

Spike's voice was deadly serious. "Not without losses. Not without losses."

"That's why you're so keen to bring in all these other demons, isn't it?"

"Why did you think? You think I want to use m- your nearest and dearest as cannon fodder?"

"I think, it doesn't matter. I think, together, we'll get through this, whatever happens. And as for some of the rest of the stuff in your dream, I also think that while mum might have had her worries when she found out you had feelings for me, that she would approve if she could see us now. If she could see how supportive you are, and how much better both mine and Dawn's lives are with you around. I know that she liked you, and she never really got beyond the whole best behaviour thing with Riley. He was never just himself around her. And... I think that up to a few months ago I'd have said that that cheesecake was better than sex."

"You're just trying to divert my attention," the vampire accused.

"Is it working?"

"Can't you tell?" Spike's eyes travelled down between their bodies.

"Let's go home, Will." Buffy suggested. "We've talked enough."








"You still need to eat something, love," Spike protested as they made their way back along the beach.

"I'll be fine. I skip meals all the time."

"And it shows. We're out here now. Might as well have something to eat before we go back."

"Thanks. I don't hear you complaining about my figure when we... you know."

"Buffy, I'm not complaining about anything, I'm just saying you need to take better care of yourself... or let me do it. Besides, maybe I think you need to build up your energy." His tongue ran over his teeth in that way that always made her knees go weak.

"Sounds like someone's got big plans."

"Or maybe I just want some quiet time alone with my girl."

"Some quiet time alone with a picante fajita, more like."

"That too."

With a noise that was half a laugh and half a snort Buffy resigned herself to her fate. "Okay, we eat and then we go home."
 
Chapter 6.01
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Special thanks to Cherie again, for the proverbial butt kicking, and also to the real Lori for stepping in to help out with my typos and American / English translations while t_geyer was indisposed. I guess when it comes to culinary matters the British and the Americans are even more two nations separated by a common language than usual.

Chapter 6.01
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Tara watched the car recede into the distance. She reached into her bag and pulled out the cell phone Buffy had given her in LA. The display announced that one new message had been received. She opened it up to find that Buffy hadn't neglected to get in touch. Unfortunately, neither witch had heard the ring tone with the phone buried in Tara's bag.

"v----v = ^. Ws ->
 
Chapter 6.02
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting







Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.02
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"So, you'll lock up when I've gone? And you're going to be okay here on your own?" Wes questioned the teenager as he stood on the porch, having brought her home.

"I'll be fine. It's not the first time I've been in the house on my own, you know, and there's only two vamps who have an invite, and I don't think one of them would be in a hurry to show his face 'round me."

"Yes, well, all the same, keep your phone to hand and if there's any trouble just call and someone will be here in less than ten minutes. Okay?"

"Yes, daddy. You're nearly as bad as Spike when Buffy was gone."

"I guess I'll have to try harder, then."

"No, thanks. One over-protective "big brother" is quite enough. Actually, one over-protective big sister is enough on her own."

"You're the one that talked about me joining the "family"."

"Shoo. Go. I've got calls to make and you've got people to meet."

 




 

"Hey, so are we on for tonight?" Brandon asked.

"I don't see why not," Dawn replied, somehow managing not to sound totally disingenuous. "They said it was okay for me to go on your bike once I had all the gear, and I have all the gear. And you'll give me a lift there and back, won't you? So, as long as I'm back for curfew, no problemo."

"Sure, I'll give you a lift there and back. What kind of jerk would I be if I didn't?"

"The kind of jerk I wouldn't want to go with in the first place. Or maybe the kind of jerk I'd have an argument with half way through the night."

"Believe me. We're not going to argue, bicker maybe but I make it a point never to upset a pretty girl if I can help it, and even if we did, it would still be my place to see you got home safely."

"Cool. Give me three quarters of an hour to change and get freshened up. Okay?"

Brandon checked his watch. "I'll be on that front porch just after half past seven."

"See you then," Dawn confirmed, waiting for him to say goodbye before replacing the handset. She dashed up the stairs as soon as the phone was back in its cradle. At least, if she had been accustomed to the extra weight of her new thick-soled boots it would have been a dash, as it was, it seemed more like a fast jog. These were going to take some getting used to, but on the plus side, no teetering.

Her first stop was her wardrobe. Hidden away at the back, for just such an occasion as this, was an old dress of Buffy's. Her sister most likely thought it had been thrown away along with all the other clothes that had been with it in a garbage bag in the basement. Little did she know that Dawn had hidden it away well before the basement was ever flooded.

She debated for a few seconds before slipping off the new leather trousers and adding a pair of black lacy tights. Surveying her reflection in the mirror, she pulled on the heavy boots that reached most of the way up her calves once more. She needed make-up, but the black pvc mini-dress, the fishnet-style tights and the boots were definitely a look. Five minutes later, her new leather pants and boots were back on over the top of the dress, which was short enough that this didn't present a problem. That left the rest of the time to work on her make up and her hair and pick some jewellery.

 




 

Dawn made a dash for the bathroom when she heard the sound of an approaching motorbike, checking her hair and make-up in the mirror one last time before she descended the stairs with a seemingly casual nonchalance.

Brandon was just removing his helmet as she stepped into the halo of the front porch light. As he raised his head back up he let out a low wolf whistle.

"Do I get a twirl?" he asked.

"If you want," Dawn responded before obliging. Meanwhile, Brandon set his helmet down on top of the bike's seat and moved to close the distance between them.

Taking first one hand and then the other, he gently pushed back the cuffs of her jacket.

"What're you doing?" Dawn asked with a puzzled expression.

"Just checking for the Witchblade, seeing as how I seem to be dating a young Sarah Pezzini," he answered with a teasing glint in his cat-green eyes.

"Very funny." Then, her puzzled expression returned. "Or is that meant to be a compliment?"

"Believe me. It's a compliment." He closed the last foot between them and pressed his lips to hers, deepening the kiss when she opened her mouth to him. His hands reached up to frame her face and long seconds passed before either pulled away for breath. "The look suits you," he told her as he brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek in a parting caress. "I think we'd best get out of here before your chaperones come to check what we're up to."

"It would help if we want a table," Dawn responded with her own teasing smile.

"I'm guessing the idea of dancing the night away in new boots doesn't appeal?"

"You guess right. Why? Were you planning to cop a feel on the dance-floor?"

"Well, I am a guy. but, actually I was thinking it'd be kinda cool to get more of a chance to sit and talk, and maybe unravel a bit more of the enigma that is Dawn Summers." He gave her another soft lopsided smile before making his way back to the bike.

As his back retreated down the path, a little voice in Dawn's head was reminding her that oxygen was a prerequisite to her survival. 'Breathe, girl, breathe ," it said.

 




 

There was more than an hour before the band was due to come on when they arrived at the Bronze and the place was only just starting to fill up.

"Why don't I take our jackets and helmets to the cloakroom? You see if you can find a table and I'll swing by the bar before I come find you?"

"Okay."

"What's your poison?"

"Well, I would say vodka tonic to sound all sophisticated, but what with these pesky stamps on our hands, you better make it a diet coke."

He pressed an almost chaste kiss on her lips, before pulling back to smile at her surprised expression. "One coke coming up. and you don't need to be sophisticated to impress me. You're doing fine just being you."

 




 

As she waited at the table, Dawn's ill will towards Spike was steadily growing. It was her first proper, unsupervised date. She was with a gorgeous, charming guy who gave every appearance of being as attracted to her as she was to him. She should be having the time of her life. Instead, this little English voice in her head kept saying, "if a guy seems too good to be true, then he probably is." It wasn't fair. Even when he wasn't there, the British pest wouldn't just let her enjoy herself.

Then again, there was the other little voice that said if Spike and Buffy got back to the house before she did and found her note on the refrigerator, then there was always the possibility they would turn straight back around and haul her home. Of course, those instructions about being in bed if it was after half past eleven didn't make it sound like they intended to rush back, so she was probably safe. unless they were just covering themselves. And Tara and Willow would probably find it first, anyway. The library would probably be closing soon, so it was almost guaranteed.

It wasn't like it was a big deal. Buffy never asked for mom's permission and she used to walk here and back on her own and that was before anyone knew about the whole slayer thing. Of course, it was before her mom knew that vampires were real as well, but minor point. It wasn't her fault that Buffy wasn't there to ask permission, and she had left a note.

Her train of thought was broken when a drink appeared in front of her. "One diet coke," Brandon announced as he set it down. The small white pellet that had been added to the cup had already dissolved by the time the brunette had reached the table.

 




 

"Sorry I'm so late. It took a bit longer to get Dawn outfitted than I had anticipated." Wesley apologised in a whisper as he greeted the two witches. "Is there a reader's lounge or somewhere that I can get us all a coffee while you tell us your news?"

"There's a coffee shop just around the corner," Tara offered. "And this place will be closing up soon anyway." She started to clear up the books she'd been using for her research, while Willow picked up a stack of printouts from a printer near the computer she had been working on. The Englishman was quick to step forward. "Those books must weigh a ton. Here let me get them." He took the stack from Tara's arms, carrying them with ease.

Soon the trio were seated around a small table and armed with tall cups of coffee. Willow looked sheepish as she made her confession. "Last night, after the meeting I sent this email. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Wesley scanned the text of the document she gave him. "This was a very dangerous bluff to play. I'm assuming it was a bluff, that you wouldn't in fact be prepared to use the full extent of your magic against human opponents."

"I don't know. I mean I just meant to scare them off, but if they come after us. I guess I won't know how I'll react until I'm actually put to the test. I mean barrier spells and stuff like that have worked before, maybe they'll work again."

"There's something else as well. Spike asked Willow to check out Brandon and his father, just as a precaution. She hasn't had much chance to work on it until tonight. It could just be coincidence." Tara told him in a voice that conveyed little hope that it was. She nodded to Willow, who began to spread out the remaining print outs on the table in front of them, explaining what she had found. "Brandon's dad only started teacher training when he was awarded custody in the divorce case seven years ago. Before that he was a war correspondent, and before that he worked on The Stars and Stripes."

"The forces newspaper?" Wes asked, his tone of voice showing that his interest had been piqued.

Willow nodded. "Yep. He's ex-military... or maybe not so ex?"


 
Chapter 6.03
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting







Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.03
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"Okay!" Dawn began before taking a sip of her drink. "I've been thinking, and I've come to the conclusion that, so far, you're just too good to be true. So, if you don't want me to head for the hills, I think it's time you spilled all your deepest darkest secrets."

"You mean it isn't enough that my dad knows your grade point average and gets to watch us eat lunch every day?"

"Nope, that's just a minor inconvenience. and besides it's not like I couldn't check out your test scores if I wanted to." The teenager thought of how easily Willow hacked the school's computers on demand.

"Really?"

"Well," Dawn covered for her slip. "If I asked, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"B plus average."

"See, and again with the perfect. Intelligent without being geeky."

"Okay, then. How about the fact that your sister and her boyfriend, though hopefully not you, are going to freak when they find out I'm eighteen."

Dawn snorted a mouthful of coke and started coughing whilst the youth hovered next to her unsure whether he should slap her back or not. Gradually the coughing sort of died down.

"What the frilly heck are you doing in tenth grade, if you're eighteen?" the girl finally spluttered.

"Misspent youth. Ma and dad both travelled a lot when I was younger, so I was always getting pulled out of one school and put into another and some of them I didn't even know what language they were speaking never mind what they were trying to teach me. So, by the time they got divorced and Dad moved us back to the US I kinda slipped a couple of grades."

"So you lived abroad?"

"Some of the time." He gave a sigh. "It's going to have to be the full story, isn't it?"

"Mm-hmm." Dawn nodded. "Can't stop just when it's getting interesting."

"Okay, when I was real young, dad was in the army. Don't worry. He's not some gung ho spit-and-polish type. Just wanted to go to college and his folks didn't have the cash to spare, so he basically did his time and got out. Except, then he went one better and became a war correspondent. Ma would try to get work, sort of near but not too near, if you know what I mean, but her contracts wouldn't necessarily run for the same length of time as dad's and there aren't exactly a lot of films or TV getting made anywhere near Somalia, least not ma's sort of stuff."

"What exactly does your mom do?"

"She's a wrangler." He raised an eyebrow in Dawn's direction, silently asking if she knew what that meant.

"She works with horses, right?"

"Yep, so Westerns and historical dramas, pretty much it."

"Sounds interesting."

"Sometimes, but believe me being stuck in the Ukraine in the middle of winter because it's the only place the actors, or should I say the army, are cheap enough to film massed ranks on a TV budget, not really my idea of fun. Even if you do pick up the odd autograph."

"So where is she now?"

"Prague, I think. They're starting to do a fair bit of stuff over there."

"So you don't see her much?"

"Depends. Most summers she tries to work in a longish vacation and we go stay with her folks in Ireland for a few weeks, or I go stay with her for a month or two where she's working, but then I don't see her so much."

"So just when I get used to you being around, you're going to up and leave me?"

"You're getting used to me being around?"

"Maybe."

"Think you'll miss me?" His pale green eyes sparkled with a teasing light.

"Again I say maybe." An answering sparkle blossomed in her own.

"Think maybe your sis would let you out of her sight for a week or two, if I promised to take real good care of you?"

"And pigs would fly." A frown flickered across the adolescent's face and she dabbed at a forehead suddenly damp with perspiration. She reached for her drink, taking a couple of large cooling gulps before she pushed herself up out of her seat. "I'll be back in a minute."

The toilets still weren't that busy, but Kirsty and her clique were hogging the space in front of the mirrors, so Dawn ducked into the first available cubicle pretending not to notice them and hoping they wouldn't notice her. As soon as the door was safely bolted behind her she slumped on the toilet seat and pulled a wad of tissue from the roll beside her to dab the moisture from her face.

Maybe this was why Buffy had never really worn the pvc dress. Standing, she pulled her leather pants down to mid-thigh before sitting back down, and somewhat laboriously managing to get them off without putting an unshod foot on the cubicle's floor. By the time this minor task had been achieved, she was again sweating profusely. This was when she began to suspect that all was not right with the world. "Too good to be true," she was startled to realise she'd whispered the words out loud. Thankfully, Kirsty and her friends seemed to have remained oblivious and shortly thereafter she heard them leave en masse.

When she heard the door slam behind them she ventured out, peering at the damp face the mirror reflected back at her. Her make up seemed suddenly garish against a pallor to which even Spike could only aspire. Fresh air. She needed out of this claustrophobic club, with it close atmosphere and seething crowds of people. She lurched the few steps from the ladies to the club's back door, only to feel a firm hand grip her upper arm as she almost stumbled. When she recognised Brandon's voice she lashed out with her free hand trying to push him away but her limbs felt like spaghetti.

"Yudithiz" she accused.

"Dawn. I haven't done anything. Whatever's wrong, I promise you it wasn't me. You can't go like this."

"Liar."

"Look, I know you haven't known me long enough to know you can trust me, but if you come back in, work out where you left your pants and your purse, I'll call your sister and wait with you till she picks you up. There's lots of other people around. Nothing's going to happen to you, but you can't wander round outside on your own like that."

"Pants?" Dawn looked down at her empty hands and felt at the dress as if she suddenly expected it to have sprouted pockets. She turned and stumbled back toward the ladies toilets. Brandon pulled his cell phone from his pocket. The calls only took about a minute.

 




 

A black four by four waited in a nearby alley. The figure in the driver's seat monitored communications between the two teams that were at work in Sunnydale tonight. A cell phone's ring tone broke across the radio chatter.

"Agent Finn."

"What is the status of your operation, Agent Finn?"

"Phase one is complete. We should be able to make the pick up very shortly. I have men watching all the exits."

"And alpha team?"

"We have marksmen in position at the various locations, waiting for their opportunity. The vampire won't be causing any more trouble after tonight."

 




 

Wesley looked at his watch. It was over five and a half hours since he had parted company with Buffy and Spike. He doubted they would still be talking things through. One way or another, it seemed likely that matters would be settled. Of course, if they had moved on from talking, then he really wasn't going to be popular, but then after his shopping trip with Dawn they owed him.

He pressed the speed dial button that would connect him to Buffy's mobile.

 




 

At first, Buffy had no idea why Spike had suddenly slowed down and pulled over, but when he cut the engine on the bike she became dimly aware of the ring tone coming from her purse. She passed the bag to Spike, letting him search for the offending object while she removed her helmet.

"Buffy?"

Spike recognised the ex-watcher's voice immediately. "Just a minute. She's gettin' her helmet off. What's up?"

"It could be nothing, but Dawn's not answering either her home phone or her cell phone, and Willow's just found out that her boyfriend's father is ex-army. We also have reason to believe that Riley's group may have been provoked into taking action. As soon as I hang up Willow and I are heading over to the house to check it out. We'll ring as soon as we have more news."

Spike dropped the phone into his duster pocket where it would be easier to reach. "Best get that back on, pet, and hold on tight, 'cause we're done dawdlin'."

"Dawn?"

"Who else?" the vamp asked in a voice that didn't bode well for someone.
 
Chapter 6.04
 

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Note: Thanks to my betas MadRog and t_geyer for their unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.04
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"Dawn?" Brandon knocked on the outer door of the toilets. "Dawn, are you all right in there?"

Dawn leant against the other side of the door. Sweat was trickling down her face as she clasped her purse and her pants to her, afraid that if she didn't that she would forget them again. She didn't know what to do. She felt like she was burning up. She desperately needed to get out of this place, but to do that she had to go past Brandon.

"Dawn?" his voice seemed even louder. "If you don't answer me, I'm going to have to come in there."

"You can't." Her voice was edged with panic. Everything had gone so wrong and she just knew that if she didn't feel so ill she could work out how to fix it.

"I won't, as long as you keep talking to me, so I know you're okay. If you stop talking, then for all I know, you could be passed out with your head down a toilet or something."

"Like you'd care !" she accused him.

"Do we have to do this with a door in the way?" he asked his voice sounding suddenly tired.

"I'm not that stupid. If I come out you'll grab me again."

"Okay. Look, I'll back away from the door. I won't come any closer than six feet. If you just open the door an inch or two you can see. Okay?"

"I want to go outside." The door opened a fraction of an inch and Brandon could just make out a single blue eye making sure he was as good as his word.

"Okay, but I'm going to follow you and make sure you're okay till someone comes. I'll stay back. I won't touch you. I just don't want to leave you on your own."

Slowly Dawn edged toward the back door of the club, carrying her bundle clutched against her chest. Equally slowly, careful not to make any move that might startle her, Brandon followed her into the alley beside the club. Dawn's legs were decidedly shaky and she was more than a little relieved to spot a stack of palettes, which formed a convenient resting spot. She reached down with her hands to lower herself onto the makeshift seat, no longer trusting her depth perception to guide her. Brandon kept his distance, leaning against the opposite alley wall as if he, too, were having difficulty supporting his own weight.

"Dawn. You have to phone your sister and let her know what's happening. She's not at the house. Do you know where she is?"

"Can't."

"Can't what, Dawn? Can't contact her? Won't she have her cell with her? Or is she at the cinema or somewhere where she'd have it turned off?"

"Can't tell her. Snuck out. She thinks I'm at home."

Brandon allowed himself to slide down the wall until he sat hunkered at its base. "Dawn, in a few minutes my dad is going to be here. He's going to have to decide whether to take you back to our place or whether to take you to the hospital. You can't go home unless there's going to be someone there to look after you, and unless we can get a hold of your sister she's not going to know there's anything wrong."

Just at that point, the black four by four pulled into the alley screeching to a halt mere feet from the couple, its high beams making both of them raise a hand to their eyes. A smallish figure stepped from the car to be rapidly flanked by two much larger ones who seemed to step from the alley's shadows.

"We'll take care of Dawn, won't we?"

Brandon looked over at the newcomers. The woman who had spoken didn't look particularly offensive, but he wasn't ready to trust anyone who walked or drove into this situation. The hint of Eastern European in her accent didn't exactly set his mind at rest either. He began to edge his way over toward Dawn, trying to place his body between her and the others.

"Sorry, thanks for the offer, but as I told the lady earlier when I take a girl on a date I make sure she gets home safely."

"I'm afraid you're under a misapprehension here. It wasn't an offer. It was a statement of fact." The woman nodded toward Dawn. "Secure her and put her in the back."

Looking round, Brandon grabbed at a broken off length of three by one, holding it like a double handed sword and sort of shuffling forward with one foot always well ahead of the other.

"Kendo? Very impressive, especially since you should be just as messed up as your girlfriend."

"She kept me talking. Didn't drink as much."

"Pity." In an effortless and obviously much practised move, the woman pulled a pistol from an underarm holster that had been hidden by her jacket. Brandon got a good view of the silencer before the momentum of the shot carried him off his already shaky feet.

He struggled to stay conscious despite the drug and the pain and succeeded just long enough to catch Dawn's gasp of recognition as her captors dragged her off.

"What about him?" one of the men asked as they closed up the rear of the car.

"Leave him. In five minutes the smell of blood will have every vampire in a half-mile radius down here. Just get her to the containment site and get back here before alpha team realises you're gone and not a word about this to any of the others."

"Not even Riley?"

"Especially not Riley. He doesn't deal well with grey areas. That's why it's my job to make sure he doesn't see any. As far as he's concerned alpha team is out hunting the vampire that is holding the slayer and her people under its thrall. He has a duty to stop it before it uses this foothold to start an insurrection amongst the sub T population. I don't see any need to confuse the issue."

 




 

Willow was off the bike even before Wes could turn the engine off, her front door key ready in her hand.

"Dawn? Dawnie?" The living room light was on, as was the one in the bathroom, but otherwise the house was in darkness. She made her way through the living room to the kitchen, flicking the lights on as she passed. When she saw the fluorescent pink post-it stuck to the fridge door she heaved a sigh of relief, even before she got close enough to read it. Somehow bad news didn't belong on something that garish.

She pulled down the note reading it with a smile. "Panic over. She went to the Bronze to see Devon's new band. She probably couldn't hear her phone over the music."

"Yes," Wes drew the word out as if to show his reservations. "But who did she go with?"

Willow's mouth formed into a silent 'O' as she realised what the former watcher meant. "I guess we could try calling her again. We might be lucky." Willow crossed to the phone and only then noticed the blinking message light. She pressed the playback button.

"Hi. I guess there's no one home right now. This is Brandon. Dawn's sick. Actually, I think maybe someone spiked our drinks 'cause I don't feel so good either, but Dawn's a lot worse. I'm going to call my dad and get him to pick us up. I don't think Dawn should be left alone, but she... I think she thinks I did it or at least she doesn't know I didn't, so the sooner someone she trusts can get here the better. By the time you get this, chances are we'll either be at our place or if she gets any worse we might be at the hospital, but if we go there I'll try to leave another message. My cell number's..." The message finished by giving Brandon's cell number, his home number and his address.

"Oh God, something's happened to them and it's my fault."

"Willow, we don't know that. It may simply be a childish prank, but I think Buffy needs to know what's going on."

"Don't you think we should return the call first?"

"I think maybe Buffy would want to do that herself."

Wes pulled out his cell phone. "Can you have that message ready to play when I give you the signal?"

 




 

As the phone rang on unanswered, Buffy could feel the rage that built within the vampire with each additional ring. She let it sweep through her, too. It was so much better than the gnawing fear that was the alternative. If the cell phone had been switched off that might have meant they were at the hospital, but when both it and Brandon's home number were unattended the odds of some sort of foul play being involved increased dramatically.

The vampire pulled back onto the road, paying no heed to speed limits and little more to intersections or crosswalks. As he neared the club the heavy coppery scent guided him to the alley, but all that remained to tell the tale was a large puddle of blood and some tyre prints, those and the pitiful bundle made by Dawn's new trousers wrapped around her purse.
 
Chapter 6.05
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting






Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer as always for her help and patience. Special thanks in this instance to Lori for stepping up to the plate while t_geyer is out of town.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.05
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Buffy was off the bike in a second, not even bothering to remove her helmet. She unravelled the bundle of leather to find the purse at its centre.

"It's hers."

Spike could almost visibly see Buffy raising the same mental walls, as that day with Glory at the gas station replayed in both their minds.

He flung himself off the bike. Striding over to where she stood and gripping her by the shoulders, he shook her as hard as he could.

"Don't you dare even think of hiding away in that head of yours, slayer. This isn't your fault, and that there puddle isn't her blood, but if you quit now and something does happen to her you'll never know if you could have stopped it."

"You know? " Buffy looked to the vampire for confirmation.

"Of course, I bloody know. Bit's made from you. Her blood sings, and this... it's like the difference between Barry Manilow and a two hundred strong Welsh voice choir singing Bach. It isn't hers. It could be the boy's. It could be one of theirs, but there isn't one drop of it hers. Now, are you with me?"

"I'm with you. So, what now? The hospital or here?"

"Here and then the hospital. If she made it there, she'll be gettin' looked after. If she's inside and someone's after her, she could still be in trouble." He pulled Buffy's phone from his pocket, passing it to her. "If you get Red and Wes to go straight to the hospital when he's dropped off Tara with Harris and the missus, then maybe we'll find out all the sooner."

The pair combed the club from balcony to backstage and everywhere in between. Spike's keen eyesight spotted Brandon's helmet and the one sitting next to it in the cloakroom, but he chose not to worry Buffy further. They were just about to head out, when they heard back from Wesley.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, Wes. What's the sitch?"

"It's not good, I'm afraid. Brandon was brought in a little while ago by his father, but Dawn wasn't with them."

"Well, what did he say? What happened?"

"He's not saying much of anything from what I gather. We haven't managed to get near him. He's in ICU and there's a policeman outside the room in case he comes 'round long enough to make a statement. Buffy, I get the impression they're not really expecting him to pull through. Willow's going to try what she called an old Jedi mind trick to see if she can get in, but she wants to recover a bit from helping with the barrier spells around The Magic Box and Lily's apartment first."

"Shoot. I guess they're playing for keeps. Is there anything Willow can do?"

"She won't know until she actually sees what's wrong. I think the reason she wants to recoup some of her power is more to do with what she anticipates she might have to do once we get in, than actually getting in."

"Well, unless Tara can come up with a location, it's the best we've got. See ya in ten." Buffy ended the call and turned to Spike.

"I'm guessing you heard most of both sides of that."

"Enough to know I don't have to string the boy up for not taking proper care of her. Let's go."








"Hey, honey, I'm home," Sam called out as she made her way through the back door of the clapboard house. Riley stretched and rose from his position at the rather grubby window and went to meet her.

"Hey you." He stooped to give her a kiss. "Not that I'm complaining but I didn't expect to see you tonight. I thought you were going to be busy over on the other side of town."

"We were. It's done. Henriksen and Ogilvy are taking care of the clean-up now. I take it your vampire isn't co-operating."

Riley shook his head and wandered back toward the window he'd been watching from earlier. It wasn't really good luck that the house opposite 1630 Revello was empty. In fact, indirectly it was actually Spike's fault. The house had remained unsold since the death of the previous owner, last time someone had used it to spy on the Summers household. "No sirree. I don't know who this new guy is, but he seems to be running a motorbike taxi service. First, he brings Dawn home, then Willow, and then they left again about five, ten minutes later. And between visits Dawn heads out with some other biker.

The guys at Spike's old crypt have seen zip, so they're not there and they're not patrolling. All the guys've got is some decomposing sub-T in the basement, and even for Spike that's pretty crappy housekeeping.

As for the apartment he's supposed to be subletting from Anya, we checked out her lease and got the address, but no one's been there all day. We've got men there just in case, but..." He shrugged.

"You think he's on to you? Skipped town?" Sam asked.

"No. He's too arrogant for that. If he's really managed to convince Buffy and the others that she's in love with him, he'd more likely come looking for me than the other way around. He'd be in my face about it."

"Doesn't he know you're a happily married man?" Sam asked in what seemed to be a teasing voice. In reality, although she had little or no affection for the man she'd married, she'd heard more than she wanted to know about the slayer and her penchant for vampire lovers, repeated far more often than necessary, in her time with him.

"A monster like him wouldn't even understand the concept."

"Okay. Enjoy your stakeout. I'm just going to take a walk, check on the others, and then I'm going to head back to Lowell for a nice, hot, soapy bubble-bath. If you get finished quick enough, you could always join me." She gave Riley a long deep kiss and a wicked smile before she left, not in anticipation of conjugal passion, as Riley thought, but at the idea of leaving him aroused and frustrated. "Tell Graham and the other guys upstairs I said hello."








"I don't see why we have to all be here. Shouldn't we be out looking for Dawn if she's missing?" Xander asked from his seat at the research table.

"Because the more we split up the more vulnerable we are, honey." Anya replied as she checked the shelves, in preparation for making up a purchase order for one of her suppliers.

"Well, couldn't we have been just as not vulnerable at our place, with the food and the beer and the Seven of Nine special on cable?"

"But here we have weapons, and spell components and sewer access. And if anything gets broken, Giles owns a share and has to help replace it, rather than it all belonging to us."

"Okay, I get the rest, but surely sewer access is of the bad. We don't want a whole bunch of special ops commando guys swarming under our nice comfy barrier."

"It's okay, Xander," Tara assured him. "Willow and I left kind of a trapdoor in the basement, but you have to know the password to use it, so we can get out, and if there's trouble at their place Clem and his family can come in, or Willow, Wes, Buffy and Spike, but that's it. And we can find Dawn quicker by doing a locator spell, which I'll be doing shortly, by the way, than by wandering the streets."

"Not to mention it's far less dangerous," Anya added.








"Hey." Willow's mouth twisted up slightly to match her very subdued welcome.

"Hey, Will." Buffy and the redhead met in a hug of mutual consolation. Across their heads, Spike's eyes met Wesley's before, with identical minuscule shakes of their heads, they dismissed any idea of following suit, and Spike walked around the two women to greet the former watcher.

"Any fresh news?" asked the vampire.

"Not so far."

"Let's go," Willow instructed. "And Spike, when we get there, let me do the talking; just stay quiet."

"What? I never said a bloody word."

"Just keep it that way," the redhead instructed.

"Won't it be harder for you to get us all in the room than if you were going on your own?" Buffy asked.

"A bit," Willow admitted. "But if we all get in and I can do anything to help heal him, then I can draw energy from you and Wes to do it while Spike stands guard." Spike and Wes seemed to take this at face value, but Buffy was puzzled.

"Wouldn't you be able to draw more energy from Spike than from Wes, what with the supernaturally strong gig and all?"

Spike shook his head, intervening before Willow's embarrassment would allow her to do it.

"Evil, dead things and healing mojo don't exactly go tiptoeing through the tulips hand in hand, pet. There's plenty energy, but it's all the wrong sort. Red's got the right of it. I'll keep an eye on the door."

As they neared the room with the police officer sitting on a chair outside it, Willow seemed to gain a marvellous focus, her entire being concentrated on the task in hand.

"Good evening, officer. Excuse us, my students and I need to go through to visit Mr Michaels."

"Your students?"

"Yes, medical students. We don't get many wounds like this, and it's important that their training covers as wide a cross-section as possible."

"If you say so, doctor."

The officer moved his chair aside and allowed the group to enter the room. As soon as they were inside Willow breathed a sigh of relief and dropped the blinds so that no one could see in from the corridor outside. She moved to the chart that hung from the foot of the bed, trying to make sense of the notes there but having difficulty due to the hurried handwriting and technical terms.

After about twenty seconds, Spike impatiently snatched the clipboard from her hands. Scanning down the pages he summarised his findings.

"He's been shot"

"Well, I worked that out."

"It's lodged too close to the heart, and he's too weak from blood-loss for them to risk operating, but in the meantime one of his lungs is filling up with blood. According to this it's just a matter of time before something gives. Add a bump on the head, probably from when he fell, and the fact he already had God knows what in his system before that, so they've got to be pretty careful about what drugs they might give him and he's in a fine mess."

"Pretty good for a layman," came the voice from behind them. "Almost exactly how they explained it to me, in fact. Now, perhaps you'll tell me what you're doing in my son's room and how you got past the police guard out there."

Buffy shot an irritated glance at her fiancé. "You couldn't watch the door like you were meant to? Em, Mr Michaels, I'm Buffy-."

"I know who you are, Miss Summers, Miss Rosenberg, Spike ...or do you prefer Hostile 17? The question I asked is what you're doing here. My son is dying. Isn't that enough for you people?"

"If you know who we are, then, you know that we're responsible for Dawn." Somehow, even though Spike was a good six inches shorter than the other man, the cold inhuman anger in his eyes made the difference seem irrelevant as he closed the gap between them with slow, measured strides. "Now, maybe your son is beyond help and maybe he isn't, but Dawn is missing and your son might be able to tell us where we can find her. Even if that wasn't the case, if you really knew these people you would know that they would do what they could to help your son. We would do it because he earned our loyalty when he stood by Dawn. They would do it simply because it's the right thing to do. Hell, we'd even do it because if Dawn found out we lost her bloody date for that damn formal none of our lives would be worth living.

Medical science doesn't hold out much hope for your boy. I guess it's up to you whether we see if good old-fashioned mysticism can do any better, but if that were my boy lying in that bed, I'd be grovelling at Red's feet 'round about now, rather than trying to piss her off.

Now, I think you owe the ladies an apology."
 
Chapter 6.06
 

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Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer as always for her help and patience. Special thanks in this instance to Lori for stepping up to the plate while t_geyer is out of town.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.06
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

For long seconds two pairs of blue eyes bored into each other with a palpable intensity.

"And if I prefer to think that you and yours are responsible for this?" Brandon's father asked.

"Then that would be another reason for us to clean up our own mess, wouldn't it? But, seeing as you're unlikely to find any of us carrying a gun, at least one loaded with anything other than tranqs, I don't see how you can lay the blame on us, soldier boy." The last two words were spat out with a disgust that was obvious to all in the room. "We're not the ones using a sixteen-year-old kid to spy on people. What'd you do? Have a debriefing session after every date?"

"You don't know me, so I'll let that one slip, this once, but rest assured any attachment my son formed for the girl has nothing to do with me. I'd have been more than happy if he'd never met her, especially given the outcome."

"Spike, this isn't helping, and if you get any louder that cop outside is going to come in to see what's going on." Buffy gently touched Spike's arm at the elbow.

Spike half-turned toward her. "Alright, pet. I'll shut up, soon as Rambo here tells us whether he'll accept our help or not."

The taller man sighed. "Like you said, I don't have a lot of choice. This doesn't mean I trust you, or that I ever want my kid near any of you again. It just means that I'm backed into a corner."

"There you go, Red. There's your go-ahead. At least now we don't have to punch him out."

Mr Michaels' forehead creased into a frown. "You said it was my choice whether they did anything or not."

Spike gave a lupine grin. "I lied."








Half an hour later, the quartet exited the building leaving Brandon and his father in their hospital room. Willow had used her magic to remove the bullet and repair the damage to Brandon's chest. However, as for the concussion, blood-loss and the drugs in his system, his body would have to recover in its own time with whatever help the doctors could offer. His father had grudgingly taken Buffy's cell number and promised to call if Brandon had any useful information when he woke up.

"I guess one of us best ring Glinda and see if she's come up with anything."

"I'll do it," Willow volunteered.

She pulled a phone from her bag and rang the number for the magic shop. Anya answered, of course, but quickly handed the receiver over to Tara when she realised that it wasn't a potential customer.

"It's Willow. Doesn't she realise that's a business line?"

"Are you really expecting customers to ring at this time of night?" Xander asked.

"Well, sometimes overseas customers leave orders on the answering machine, since they can't be like normal people and get up when we get up and go to sleep when we do."

"How inconsiderate of them," Xander remarked. "You really should discuss it with Giles. Just explain to him that all these international time zones are kind of inconvenient and that you think they should be abolished with everyone adopting LA time as standard. I'm sure he'll think it's a marvellous idea."

"You think I can't tell when you're being facetious?"

"You never used to be able to."

"Yes, well maybe I know you better than you think. You are my husband, aren't you?"

"According to the state of Nevada, and the funny thing. considering your former career, not actually scared and more kinda somewhere between contented and smug about the whole marital deal. Come here and gimme some sugar, sweet-lips?"

"So you're glad we got married, even though you originally ran away in panic at the very idea?"

"Very glad, and I'll be ecstatic when you put down that order pad and come kiss me."

"Tara's kind of busy keeping up with her spell. Maybe we should go take a nap in the training room." Anya replied, as she raised her lips from the requested kiss.

"Ahn?"

"Well. We did it the last time Dawn was kidnapped. What's the big difference now?"

"The difference would be that you've just announced to everyone in the room what we're about to do."

"Piffle. Tara's too busy trying to explain her train theory to be paying any attention, and it's not like we can help with the spell, and once they get closer and she's trying to do two at once, she's going to be even busier." Anya drew her not-really-resisting husband by the hand into the training room. "If you really want, I'll wear that sticky metal prosthetic above my eye and put my hair up."

Tara looked up as the training room door closed behind the couple. "And tell the guys, if they're planning to stock up on weapons before you leave town, I suggest you swing by Revello."

"I thought we'd just get a couple of bits and pieces from the training room," Buffy countered when Willow passed on the message.

Tara overheard Buffy's comment and was quick to bring the redhead up to date. "Anya and Xander are in the training room. I think she was planning on making it up to him for missing his Seven of Nine special."

"Anya and Xander-. Nope, I can't even act surprised. We'll go by Revello. Talk again in a bit," Willow confirmed. "Added bonus: while you guys sort out the weapons, I get to put on a pair of trousers instead of this skirt. So not fun on the back of a motorbike."

"If we're arming up, we need to swing past my place as well," Spike added.

"What? You think I don't have enough weapons of mass destruction to go 'round?" Buffy asked.

"No, but I did have the general impression you would rather I made use of the tranq gun than one of your nice axes."

"Good point. How many darts do we have left with that thing?"

"About four, I think, but it's better than nothing."

"Okay, we've got that and one taser. I guess you get that, Wes. Other than that, it's going to have to be magic and hand-to-hand. I suppose I could take a crossbow; it's always a deterrent and I can aim to wound."

"You can use the tranq gun?" Wesley asked the vampire.

"Well, uh. I never actually fired it, but I didn't get a migraine when I pointed it at someone, so I'm guessin' it'll be okay. Haven't had the ammo to spare or a volunteer to test the theory any further." Spike's answer was, strictly speaking, true and neatly skirted around the issue of the chip's removal, but he still looked vaguely uncomfortable in the deception.

"We'll go by yours on our way out of town. It's kind of on the way. I still don't know if we should take the car rather than the bike. How're we going to get Dawn back when we find her if we take the bikes?"

"Need the manoeuvrability, love. 'Sides, you and the Bit don't hardly make a full-sized passenger 'tween the pair of you. We'll get by."








Sam was already dressed in civvies, since her mission had involved operating in populated areas. When she got back to Lowell house all she had to do was leave Riley a note to say she'd been called back out, grab some scrubs and claim another vehicle from the pool. All with the added bonus that if Riley did hurry back in hopes of joining her in her bath he was going to be disappointed.

The slayer and her little friends thought they were so great. Then, why had it never even occurred to them to wonder where Riley's Jeep had come from, considering that the couple had been airlifted in and out? And they never gave a thought to who was going to be around to pick it up when they left. Just because the faces they knew had been rotated out, they had thought the Initiative was gone. True, the base had been stripped at one point, but a change in government can lead to all sorts of decisions being reversed.

Sam was only sorry that she'd missed out on her chance to have a part in the Initiative when it was operating at full scale. It was so seldom she got to make use of her medical training these days. Tonight was an exception, though. Once she made it to the containment facility, she would get answer the riddle, "what is the difference was between a mystical key and a normal teenaged girl?" She couldn't kill her. No one knew what would happen to the energy contained by her human form if she died. It was an unacceptable risk. That didn't mean the girl wouldn't wish she were dead before the night was over.

By the time they left her for her sister to find, she would provide her sister and her ridiculous hangers-on with quite the object lesson. Between that and losing the vampire, the slayer would learn better than to interfere in business that was none of her concern.








"Alpha One, this is Alpha Two. We have two motorbikes approaching from the centre of town. One looks like the couple from earlier but the other could be the target. Make that confirmed. Hostile 17 is incoming," Graham advised Riley from his rooftop vantage point.

"Okay, people. First clear shot on the heart that you get, take it," Riley ordered.

"Wait, sir. There's a passenger on the vehicle with him. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but I think it's the slayer, sir."

"Belay, that last order. Wait until the vehicle is stationary. Do not endanger any civilians. We're only looking to take out the vampire. Repeat, target is blond male, approximately five foot ten. All other subjects to be treated as civilians."

Wes pulled his bike over onto the path leading up to the house and stopped just short of the steps up onto the front porch. Spike drew to a halt just to his rear. Buffy hopped off from behind him, and as Spike backed the bike up onto its stand before getting off, three arrows were loosed with well-practised precision from their respective bows.
 
Chapter 6.07
 

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Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer as always for her help and patience. Special thanks in this instance to Lori for stepping up to the plate while t_geyer is out of town.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.07
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"Spike!" With barely half a second to spare before the first bolt should have hit, Buffy shouted a warning. As clearly as he could see Wesley sitting on his hog in front of him, taking off his helmet, Spike could see the three arrows converging on his heart from behind. He didn't question how he knew this, or that it was really happening.

Battening down the instinct that told him to dive for cover, he grasped the outer edges of his coat, pulling it wide to present the largest possible target. He rose up on tiptoe with his feet on the bike's footrests, hoping that if the arrows did hit that they would land low of their mark.

"Bloody hell, if the old watcher was wrong, this is going to hurt," was his last thought before the arrows bounced painlessly off his back without even marking the leather. "All praise the orbs of Nezzla Khan and sheer dumb luck. "

"Watcher!" he shouted to the blissfully unaware Wes. "I'd be immensely happy if you could find some cover that isn't me. Standing here letting wooden arrows bounce off my back isn't my idea of fun. I'd much rather be running toward the bastards with the bows."

The arrows continued to rain in, as soon as the archers got over the shock of the first few just dropping to the ground, and soon it became apparent that Spike was their only target.

After a few seconds, Buffy stood away from the tree she'd been using as cover. "What the heck? These guys take Dawn and then think they only have to worry about Spike?"

"Clear," Wes shouted to let Spike know that he could move without putting the other Englishman in the line of fire.

Spike was off the bike and into a dogleg run as fast as a blink. He'd known his target before he even turned around, the same way he knew that Buffy fell in directly behind him as he made the turn using his body as both a shield and concealment. Always, when he and Buffy had fought, both against each other and on the same side, they had had an intuitive awareness of each other. Now, it was refined to an incredible degree. It wasn't as if they were communicating telepathically. He wasn't aware of what Buffy decided to do. Rather, it was as if they were independent parts of the same whole, they thought as one.

Even though he knew it wouldn't make a difference, Spike raised his arms in front of his face instinctively, as he crashed through the window.

"This is Alpha One requesting assistance, Alpha One requesting assistance," Riley spoke into the walkie-talkie as the tornado of fury and black leather that was Spike and Buffy imploded into the room.

"What do you know? You got any more exes, maybe from when you lived in LA, who're going to get an urge to kill me?"

Riley pulled an asp from his boot, flicking the extendable baton open, but Spike simply ignored the blows that the younger man tried to land.

"Don't you guys ever get the message? You can't hit me. You can't shoot me. You can't detain me."

"Buffy, stay out of this," Riley warned.

"Why? 'Cause you only like to shoot people in the back, or because you don't want to face someone who could actually hurt you?"

Buffy's questions distracted the soldier long enough for Spike to slip past his guard. Spike's arms snaked through under Riley's from behind and then his fingers came up to interlace behind the taller man's head effectively pinning him. Spike dragged him back until the vampire could brace himself against the door into the room, preventing the men upstairs and on the roof from coming to Riley's aid.

"Do you remember when we were sparring and I kicked you across the room?"

"Yeah?" Riley's voice was unsure as he tried to struggle against Spike's grip.

"I was holding back.

There are pretty much two things that make me mad enough that I stop holding back. One is people who mess with my boyfriend. The other is people who mess with my family. I guess you win the jackpot."

It was the type of blow that Buffy rarely, if ever, used. Normally, she didn't really want to get that closely acquainted with her opponent's anatomy and if you needed to resort to dirty tricks it was so predictable that there were generally better targets. However, with Riley pinned in place and her sister in danger, she planned to get her message across quickly. As her kneecap crunched into Riley's pelvic bone with little regard for the more delicate areas in between her satisfaction at the grating sound almost matched Spike's.

Even before the blow, the larger man had been prevented from standing upright by Spike's hold. After it, he slumped like a dead weight in Spike's arms.

"Why?" Buffy asked.

Riley panted for several seconds trying to get his breath. In the lull, the heavy blows of his men, trying to break through what they assumed was a barricaded door, could be heard.

"Why not? He's just another monster." The soldier finally gasped out his reply. "One of these days that chip's going to stop working. He's already got you and the others in his thrall. What's going to happen then?"

A low dark voice spoke softly in Riley's ear. "She already knows you're a bigoted bastard who can't accept that in the end the better man won. She was asking about her sister, asking what Dawn's boyfriend did that made you leave him lying in an alley to die."

"What? We never. Buffy, he's lying. He set this up. We don't hurt people. We protect them from things like him."

The thuds against the door at Spike's back stopped to be replaced by the sound of running feet. Buffy looked toward the smashed window frame, only to recognise the faint shimmer in the air that denoted one of Willow's barrier spells.

"Yeah, right," answered Spike. "That why you were in Nepal? The yetis not quite managing to hide as well as they used to, so you thought you'd go wipe them out? You ever heard of anyone being attacked by an abominable snowman, love?"

"You make it sound dirty. All we're doing is protecting our own."

Buffy's fist smacked into Riley's jaw as Spike gave his opinion on the man's comments.

"Bollocks. It was bollocks when the Nazis said it and it's bollocks now."

"Hey, I'm not some-."

"Genocide is genocide, Jews, gypsies, blacks or demons."

"So what does that make Dawn? Let me guess, Class 3 subterrestrial, not normally aggressive," Spike gave a small snort at Buffy's description. "Minimal threat, especially if the big brave soldiers can drug her and her boyfriend before they shoot him and kidnap her. How'm I doing?"

"Buffy, I don't know what you're. talking about." Riley hesitated slightly as Buffy's phone began to ring.

Buffy pulled the phone from her pocket turning her back to the two men as she answered.

"Buffy Summers."

"Miss Summers. It's Andrew Michaels here."

"Hi, Mr Michaels. How's Brandon?"

"He's still unconscious, but he's talking in his sleep. Now, I can't think of a single reason he would be dreaming about his grandparent's dog, so maybe you know another Sam he might be talking about?

I also thought you should know, I've spoken to Brandon's godfather about this evening's events. He has some influence at The Pentagon. He's going to see that there's a full inquiry and that those involved are held accountable for their actions. I know it doesn't help you find your sister, but those responsible aren't going to get away with it."

"Thank you, Mr Michaels. You've been more helpful than you know. I think we know exactly who he means, and we're currently .interviewing someone who should be able to help us find her."

"And Miss Summers. What I said before about not wanting Brandon around you? He's never been wrong about people before. I guess when he comes round he'll make his own decisions, anyway."

"Teenagers generally do."

"I hope you find her, Miss Summers."

"It's Buffy, and we will. Thank you."

Buffy closed the phone and launched into a spinning kick that caught Riley on the opposite side of his jaw from her earlier punch.

"Steady, love," Spike cautioned. "Can't tell us what we need to know if he's got a broken jaw."

"Okay, Riley. How about you start with the truth this time. What has your wife done with my sister?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Sam and her team had reports of a Polgara over the far side of town. They took it out, finished early and she went back to Lowell for some R and R."

"And I'm supposed to swallow that? Just like I was supposed to believe that those Nevilles-."

"Nevlons," Spike corrected.

"Whatever. Don't interrupt," she snapped before returning her attention to her ex. "Just because you fooled me with those baby demons and your stinky clothes, don't think I'm stupid. Maybe you got past me at the time but I have a brain. Those stupid crabby things were never going to grow up into that thing I killed and I bet the reason you didn't want the thing killed was so that it could lay some more seriously lucrative spawn for you and your honey.

How damn feeble-minded do you think I am? Now tell me where your wife has taken my sister."

Spike felt the fight go out of the bigger man as the meaning of Buffy's words seeped into his resisting brain.

"I- It can't." he stammered.

Spike loosed his hold on the younger man letting him slump to the floor. "I think he thinks you're a bit less stupid than he is, pet."

"You mean. ?" Buffy couldn't bring herself to believe what Spike seemed to be suggesting.

"She fooled you lot. Guess you weren't the only ones."

Buffy couldn't bring herself to gloat over the fact that Riley's perfect life was so very far from perfect after all, but that was okay, because Spike could revel in his opponent's misery quite enough for both of them.

"And you," she turned to her fiancé. "The term is African-American."

"Funny, I was talking about Hitler. He did most of his killing in Europe and Africa, not America, and it's just a statement of fact. I'm white. You're white. Martin Luther King was black. It's not like I called him a-."

"Mouth. Shut. Now," Buffy snapped.

"Bloody hell." Spike leaned back against the door and lit a cigarette.

"Riley, your wife took my sister. She's not being held at the Initiative; in fact we have reason to assume she may be aboard a train of some sort. Now, tell me what you know."
 
Chapter 6.08
 

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Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.08
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"There is a train. but Sam doesn't have the authority on her own to requisition it. Last I knew it was in the Midwest." Riley's voice was little above a whisper.

"Love, before this goes all Jackanory d'you think you could get Phil Silvers here to call off the goon squad so a man can have a quiet fag in peace?"

Buffy nudged the walkie-talkie that lay on the floor toward Riley with her foot. "You heard the man. Call them off. All of them."

Riley picked up the radio. "All units, this is Alpha One. All units stand down. Repeat, all units stand down. Mission is aborted."

Spike pushed himself away from the door, only to have it fall open under the weight of two soldiers in civilian clothing. Spike merely raised an eyebrow at the men sprawled on the floor, and then strolled casually to the broken window where he beckoned to Wes and Willow with the hand that held his lit cigarette.

The witch and the watcher made their way across the road and Spike scanned the other houses 'round about for signs of activity. "You know, slayer, you were right. Your neighbours will ignore pretty much anything." When Willow reached the front porch of the house she paused and muttered a few words and the barrier that had prevented Graham from getting from the roof into the house and the other soldiers from getting out, disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The pair strolled into the room where the others had accumulated.

"Sheesh," commented the Wiccan as she eyed the broken glass and wood all over the floor. "You guys think you're too good to use a door?" The tip of her tongue peeked between her teeth as she flashed the blonde pair a grin. She was followed by a rather sheepish-looking Graham.

"Sorry, Man. We couldn't get in." His eyes travelled with obvious hostility from the bruises forming on Riley's face to the vampire who was currently picking stray fragments of glass out of the window frame so he could use it as a seat.

"Don't look at Spike," Buffy told him, intercepting the look. "He didn't do it. I did. And I'm not under his thrall, either. So, just forget that idea, too, along with any you have about killing him.

There's a kid in the ICU at the hospital tonight after Sam and her team drugged him, shot him and left him to die. Maybe, if he pulls through, we find my sister alive and well, and you leave us all the heck alone, then that kid's godfather won't use his pull at The Pentagon to see that every man in your crummy genocidal outfit leaves the army with a dishonourable discharge."

"And if you're really lucky his dad won't tell the story to his former colleagues at The Washington Post, or Reuters or even The Stars and Stripes," Willow chipped in.

Spike finally sat himself down, took a deep draw on his cigarette and announced, "I love it when all the politico-military shit works for us for a change." The vampire's eyes rapidly clouded over as the moment of levity passed. No one could doubt the gravity with which he framed his instructions. "Now, tell us what we want to know about this train and make it fast."

"Ri, man. You can't give up secret information to a sub-T." Before Buffy could silence Graham, Wes's fist unexpectedly lashed out and caught him in the stomach. As he doubled over, the watcher's knee came up and caught him in the face. One last shove left the well-intentioned but ill-informed soldier lying on his side in a foetal position.

"Okay, people..." Buffy took a stance in the centre of the room, facing off against all the military, looking each of them in the eye in turn as she spoke. "I'm only going to say this once. In this scenario you are not the good guys. You are the stooges. You have been played and made to dance like little puppets. One of your number has been manipulating you from within."

Buffy began to pace the floor as she spoke. "Sam Finn has used you, her personal relationships and her position in your unit as a cover for her dirty dealings. Unless I've missed my mark, somehow she worked out that we were onto her-."

"Um, that's kinda my fault. I sent her an email saying that we knew about the surveillance and how things had been manipulated to make Spike look guilty, and that her and Riley should stay out of Sunnydale. I guess I overestimated our effectiveness as a deterrent." Willow's eyes darted back and forth between the two blondes as if she expected some form of instant retribution for her misjudgement.

Spike's eyes glowed with a cold anger. Buffy's ire ran hot but only lasted for seconds. "Not the time to be laying blame, or claiming it, Will. There'll be time enough for that when we get Dawn home." She shifted her gaze to where Riley still sat on the floor.

"If I'm honest we thought that Riley had to be in on this thing with Sam, but it seems we had that part wrong. I guess she thought if Spike was taken out and she was holding my sister that we'd keep quiet, and no one, including Riley, would find out.

Well, she screwed up. She does not know how much shit she is in. Now, we are going to find my sister and bring her home. Riley is going to tell us exactly what we need to know to make that happen and none of you are going to interfere. If you're truly the men of honour that this nation's forces are meant to produce, you might even help. Believe me when I say you do not want to be in our way."

Spike's cigarette butt sailed past Buffy to bounce off Riley's leg before Buffy crushed it out with her foot, turning to give the vampire a withering glance.

"Well, I would spit but it's so crass and, hey, when I shoot his back full of arrows, then you can make with the dirty looks," the vampire gave by way of defence. "For now, I suggest you get him to start talkin'."

Buffy's gaze turned to Riley and he swiftly got the point.

"There's a train we use sometimes in the field. It acts as a mobile lab and containment unit. but it's not like the Initiative. We don't hold specimens long term. There's no experimentation or anything. It's purely so the techs can work on any vaccines or anti-toxins that we might need."

Spike burned to make a comment about it being so much better to know they would exterminate their friends rather than holding them prisoner, but time wasn't on Dawn's side and petty bickering would help no one. Just the same, when the dust of this whole affair settled, Spike was determined to make sure that Riley knew that the non-human population of this fair burgh were henceforth outside the military's remit.

 




 

"You worry much for man you only know few days," Lily's eyes scanned the face of the woman she had come to care for as if she were her own flesh and blood.

"What? No. no. It's just the whole thing with those creeps being back in town and Rosa... Isn't it?"

Lily shrugged. "Is maybe both? Two years is long time for young woman or for a lonely little girl. She should have father, brothers, sisters."

"Lily, I've barely met the guy and you have us married off."

The Quarnoth demon shrugged. "Is not like you can play in the field. A good man, he know he no can play with the heart of a child, and my Marie, she no choose a bad man."

"It's not that simple. I think there's someone else."

"Pff. Skinny girl with baby horse legs and cow eyes and her own man. She make her choice. May be right. May be wrong, but is made. His life no more with those people. You see. He stay."

"Even if he does stay in Sunnydale, it still doesn't mean anything."

"No, it no mean nothing that he young, pretty, smart, has good heart and is comfortable with demons and he here. What matter is he makes your heart beat like it no beat since Thomas and maybe sometime soon when he open his eyes, he feel same way 'bout my Marie."

"Okay, I find him attractive, but that isn't enough, and even if he did eventually feel the same way, any man would think twice about taking on a ready made family, especially one that's not entirely the same species."

"I hear, reason Spike's grandpapa no talk no more that he do just that." Lily retorted with a smug grin.

Marie sighed and wandered in the direction of Lily's kitchen, muttering under her breath in Spanish about interfering mothers-in-law as she went.

 




 

Three black humvees pulled up in front of the house on Revello, carrying the teams who had been stationed by Spike's apartment and at his old crypt. The driver of the front vehicle got out and was going to leave it for Riley's team but Riley stopped him before he could.

"Stay. We can regroup into teams later. Graham you're with me in Car 1. Lars, Car 2. Tom, Car 3. I want you to bring the guys on the other teams up to speed on what's happening and I want radio silence. If you need to communicate with the other cars then use the cells. If at all possible Sam is to be detained for debriefing by the appropriate authorities, but the safety of the civilians is our first priority."

"Sir? Wouldn't it be safer for them, if we left the civilians here?"

"It surely would, but you have things the wrong way round. It's them who're letting us come along."

Back in the house Spike pulled Wesley aside making sure they faced away from the window. "Here, watcher."

Spike pulled the pouch with the orbs from his belt and held them out toward the other Brit.

"Are you sure?" Wesley hesitated to take the orbs in view of the fact they were all that had kept Spike undead during the earlier hail of arrows.

"Am I sure you're going to need them more than me in the middle of whatever goes down out there tonight? Hell, yeah. Besides, I can always use you as a human shield."

"Don't you want Buffy...?"

"She can use you as a shield, too. Slayer's a big girl. Doesn't take to bein' overly protected."

"Okay, then. Let's make a move."

 




 

Tara's spell showed that although the Sunnydale group was closing the gap between them and Dawn, it was still going to be a considerable length of time before they managed to catch up. If the train kept to its current course, it was going to be much quicker to arrange an intercept from another direction entirely.

 
Chapter 6.09
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting


Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.
SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)


A/N. Extra special thanks on this chapter and those immediately following for my wonderful beta t_geyer for providing a wealth of first hand knowledge on the San Fernando railway line, and again to Cherie for keeping me going with an occasional prod here and there.

Chapter 6.09
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

The convoy was just approaching Oxnard when Spike pulled over again to get the latest update from Tara. He pulled Buffy's phone from his coat pocket and pressed it to his ear.

"Go, Tinkerbell."

"No go, as a matter of fact. They've stopped, or at least Dawn has, so either the train's stopped... or."

"Or they've ditched her. How far?"

"East of Simi Valley, in the mountains. I don't think you're going to be able to get close to it by road."

"You got any good news, pet?"

"How does the idea of reinforcements approaching from the south grab you?"

"It doesn't, but seeing as they might be useful I'd best keep my mouth shut. Ring us back if anything changes."

Spike quickly relayed the situation to Buffy, once she got her helmet off, and left her to deal with Riley.








"...So, can you like get some satellite or something to check whether the train is stationary, or moving or whatever?"

"Shit, I think that kick you gave me earlier knocked my brains loose. We don't need a satellite."

Riley pulled out his phone and hit one of the speed-dial numbers. "Command? This is Special Agent Riley Finn. I need you to patch me through to the person in charge of the central control room for the San Fernando railway line. It's an emergency. Can you sort it out, establish my authority and then call me back on my cell? Thanks."

"What are you going to do?"

"For one thing, the control room will know exactly which section of track the train is on. These days it's pretty much all centralised, and for another if that train is still moving we can get them to divert it somewhere where we want it to go. It can only go where the point changes let it. We can have it diverted into a siding somewhere or something."

"That's fine if we can have people waiting, but if we don't, won't they just realise the jig is up and make a run for it?

Oh, and by the way Tara called in Angel and the people that work with him to help. It'd be a really good idea if none of your people tried shooting any of them. They might get a bit confused as to who's on our side otherwise. Just so you know. I'd hate for there to be any misunderstandings."

"What exactly are we talking about here?"

"Well as far as I know they're all human except Angel and the big green guy with the horns and I suppose..." Buffy tailed off as she realised she really didn't trust Riley with the information about Connor and his origins or abilities. Suddenly a comment Riley had made when Xander got split into two seemed far too ominous; something about was he the only one who wanted to split them up and do experiments. "Does it really make that big a difference? Can't we just say they're on our side and leave it at that?"

"Yes, Buffy, it matters. If I'm going to be asking my men to deal with the denizens of the underworld then I want to know exactly who and what they're dealing with."

"You are dealing with people who I trust. Some of them I don't know well enough to call friends, yet, but I trust them with my sister's life, regardless of their origins, and right now I think my character judgements are a lot less suspect than yours. If you think you or your men are going to have a problem with that then I suggest you leave."

"God, what is it with you, Buffy? You're supposed to have this sacred duty to fight the demons, but every time I turn around you're socialising with them."

"I don't call trying to get my sister back from your psycho spouse socialising. And don't tell me what my sacred duty is. I live with it every day, and the way I see it, it isn't defined as fighting the demons. It isn't even defined by protecting humanity though that might be how a lot of the watchers would like me to see it. It's about protecting the innocent, whether they're human, or whether they're some Class 3 demon that you guys want to annihilate. If the worst thing a guy does is play poker for kittens, then when the human race turns vegan we can complain. And you've been turned around for a very long time, even if you have been spying on us in the meantime. Long enough for some of us to grow up a little bit. You have no idea how glad I am that you didn't bother to look down when that chopper took off, because I'm learning to like myself now, and if you'd stuck around with your blinkered mindset, then maybe I would still be stuck there with you. And I might socialise with the demons. I have every intention of marrying one, but at least I've never paid one to be my whore."

Just in time to prevent the blowout getting truly vitriolic, Riley's cell phone rang.

"Agent Finn."

"Agent Finn we have Mr Colefax on the line for you. He's the gentleman you wanted to speak to."

"Hello, Mr Colefax I wonder if you can help me? We believe there is a military train on the San Fernando line somewhere east of Simi Valley. Unfortunately we have reason to believe that an armed and dangerous fugitive is on board and may in fact be masquerading as one of the officers in charge. We need you to tell us where exactly this train is, and if possible without making the people on board suspicious we need you to divert it to a site where a containment unit can be waiting to deal with it.

"Hi, the train you're asking about is currently in the mountains it's pulled over in a siding between the two tunnels. The train driver reported a warning light to say that one of his axles was overheating and he's checking it out."

"What was the route that they originally filed with your company."

"Just a return run from Sunnydale to Burbank."

"Okay, this axle thing, how long should it take to check?"

"Twenty minutes, maybe thirty tops."

"And how long have they already been there?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Okay, when they're ready to start again I want you to let me know. You can reach me at this number. If they're headed east I need for you to get them into some out of the way sidings or a freight yard or something and clear it of all passengers and personnel, but I need enough warning to get my other team in position first. So you might need to stall them with a couple of signals or whatever. Okay?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be in touch."

Riley put away his cell phone and turned to address Buffy. "Why don't you get Angel and his men to cover Burbank. If we can get a more precise location, I'll let you know."

"Keep the demons as far away from you as possible you mean?"

"Something like that. Or don't you think two of your boyfriends in the same place is enough?"

"You know what? Spike and Angel, they managed to settle their differences. Believe it or not, they can act like grown-ups. And for someone who married someone else within a year of splitting up, you seem awfully fixated. And for the record, boyfriend doesn't even begin to cover what Spike is to me."

"So what is Spike to you? Enlighten me. Tell me how it isn't Psych 101 any more. Tell me how you don't want a guy with super strength."

"God, is that why you tried to kill him? Even when you thought Sam was little Miss Perfect you couldn't bear to see me happy with someone else. Well, get over it. I don't have time for your damn insecurities and jealousy. Either help or get the hell out of my way, but I'm not going to stand here and argue with you while my sister's in danger."

Buffy stalked off to stand by Spike's bike as she put through the call to Angel's cell asking him and his people to head for the station at Burbank. Her anger simmered just beneath the surface, lending a tension to all her moves. Then, Spike's hand reached out and the back of one finger brushed against her cheek in the simplest of caresses and all the stress just melted away. She was in command. She knew what she was doing and Riley and his men were irrelevant. They were along for the ride. They needed to be part of this to salvage their own self-respect, but Buffy didn't need them. She had people she trusted and who trusted her. They hadn't lost a war yet, and they weren't about to start.

She pulled her helmet back on and got back on the bike behind Spike. "Let's go find my sister," she told him.








"Now this is going to hurt quite a bit," Sam said with a self-satisfied smile. "But then we have to be thorough. We've got the hair and the blood. Pity it's the wrong time of the month for egg harvesting, but maybe next time we're in town I'll make up for it. For now, though, we may as well get the skin sample. Say, how about I give you a choice of where I take it from? I could take it from your stomach. No more crop tops, but hey that's not so bad. Or maybe you'd rather I took it from your forearm? More obvious while it's fresh but perhaps not so bad when it heals. Maybe a bit more difficult to explain to Social Services when they get that child abuse call tomorrow morning. Or maybe you would rather I took it from your breast where it'll be hidden away from all but your most intimate acquaintances. What do you think?" She stepped up to the teenager and ripped the duct tape from her mouth.

"I think Buffy's going to kill you, if Spike doesn't get you first."

"Spike? Your toothless guard dog? He couldn't do anything to me, even if by some miracle he did manage to survive the night. And your sister is going to be so distraught over her vampire lover's final demise that by the time she realises that you're not just dawdling on your way home, Riley and I will be gone, on our way to our next exotic locale.

Well, since you won't choose, inner thigh, it is. That should make your walk to freedom a little more interesting."

"You really think I believe you're going to let me go when I know who you are?"

"You wouldn't be much of a warning if no one knew where you came from. But just in case you might decide to try anything official, I've got a little something here. We call it Venom 64. I believe you've recently seen its effects on your sister, only you won't have the luxury of being able to get any antidote."

Dawn's eyes widened in terror. She couldn't face having her reality ripped away from her. She wasn't strong like Buffy. And what about Buffy? If Sam was serious about killing Spike, who knew whether Buffy would survive. It had been scary enough when the vampire had been wounded. Maybe, if she lost Buffy again and Spike too, she might be happier in some fantasy world she created. And if she was crazy would she see herself as human or as some glowy ball of energy? Even through her panic she managed to come up with an air of bravado.

"It doesn't matter where you go on this earth. There will be nowhere you can hide. She will find you."

"She'll be busy trying to keep you away from sharp objects and stop you wetting the bed. If social services don't stick you in an institution as soon as they see the state you're in. Can't take any more sick days, can you or they'll come out to check up on you. And what will they find? Do you think your sister will report your disappearance to the proper authorities? I doubt it, but Social services are going to wonder. And what about when they find all that men's clothing in your sister's closets, from a so-called fiancé who's nowhere to be found? You are going to end up in a mental home, and your sister is going to learn that I am one person she should not cross."
 
Chanpter 6.10
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting










Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.10
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

"You are a cast-iron bitch, you know that?" Dawn wasn't about to go quietly now that the tape had been removed from her mouth.

"Yes, I know that. In fact, I take it as a compliment. You Americans are all soft. You don't know what hardship is, and you expect everyone to play along with your soft little world-view. So, yes, I'm a bitch. I am what life has made me. But what you'd do well to remember is that I'm a bitch with lots of scalpels and needles and a prisoner who's taped to an operating table.

I could always decide I need another sample or two, if you don't keep quiet."

"Well, if you don't let me off this table you might find you get a urine sample that's kinda difficult to collect."

"You should have said." The older woman continued with her task of administering the milky looking contents of a hypodermic syringe. "It's a smaller dose than your sister received, so it may take some time to take effect, but our tests confirm that it is sufficient to do the job." Only then, did she open one of the lockers and pull out something that looked like a papier mâché potty.

She slit the tape around Dawn's arms, shoulders and forehead leaving the tape at her knees and ankles still intact. Her panties weren't going to be a problem as Sam had removed them somewhat earlier in the proceedings. Passing Dawn the wide-rimmed bowl, Sam remarked, "You should be able to manoeuvre just enough to be able to use that."

"I was thinking more of using a toilet."

"And why would I let you do that? We haven't finished our tests yet?"

"What? You want to stick me on a treadmill and see how long I run for before I say, "Fuck you!"? We can skip that one. The answer is no running."

"Actually, the last test is simply one of observation." Sam pressed a button and an opaque plastic screen slid back to reveal a barred cell no bigger than a shower stall. Huddled in the bottom of the cage was an unkempt old man, wrapped in a woollen overcoat that smelled as if no one had allowed him use of a cardboard potty. Clasped tightly in one hand he held half a bottle of bright purple liquid.

"How can you do that to him?" Dawn asked.

"Do what?" Sam countered. "Ninety nine percent of what has been done to him he did himself. We're merely giving him somewhere warmer and keeping him supplied with what his addiction demands."

"You can't really think it's okay to treat people like that. He could go blind drinking that stuff."

"People die, little one. All my life I've seen people die from cold, hunger, disease, alcohol and war. His death was already ordained by the time we picked him up. This is more humane than letting his addiction take its course. Have you ever seen a hospital ward where they keep the alcoholics before they die? Not, of course that that is why we chose him. He's simply convenient."

Sam drew a heavy baton across the bars making them vibrate and clatter like a child dragging a stick along a set of metal railings.

The man seemed to be startled into wakefulness and his arm immediately came up to shield his eyes.

"What is it?" Sam probed, pulling another plastic bottle of meths from a nearby locker. She waved it in front of the cage, but, of course, the man couldn't see it unless he removed his arm. "Tell me what you see, old man, and you can have an extra bottle."

"Oz," the shrivelled heap that had once been a man replied, a trembling hand stretching out through the bars of his cell for his reward even though he couldn't see where Sam was holding it.

"That is not an answer."

"Yes, it is. You just don't get it," Dawn protested.

"Then why don't you explain it. Before I open this bottle and pour it on the floor to watch him lick it up like a dog."

"It's a kid's story, with wicked witches and dwarves and stuff. All the heroes think they need help with something, so they all travel to see this powerful wizard who lives in Oz, the Emerald City. Then, when they get there they find the Wizard isn't a wizard at all he's just a man with a lot of neat tricks to make him look impressive, and Oz isn't made of emeralds it's nothing but green glass."

"So he sees the key's energy." She turned to the unfortunate in the cage. "You see the light? Is that it?"

"But then, you did pick him because he's at that stage where he's seeing things that aren't there, didn't you? So, it might mean nothing at all. Well, either that, or he knows you're just an impotent little sadist with no true power or ability, who's just trying to look like someone important."

"I think I liked you better when you still had the tape on your mouth." Sam picked up the roll of duct tape and ripped herself off another strip.

Dawn opened her mouth as wide as she could trying to prevent the woman from replacing the tape over her mouth, and while she had her mouth wide she figured she might as well go for a good old scream. There had to be someone on this train who wasn't a psycho, right?

"Keep your mouth open, little one, and you will be the one drinking this." Sam held up the bottle of meths and Dawn immediately decided that given the choices, she'd put up with the tape, thank you very much.

Sam walked over to a phone that was mounted on the wall at one end of the carriage. She picked up the receiver and spoke to the train's driver. "I've finished here. You can quit stalling any time you like." As she passed the old man's cage, she tossed in the bottle of alcohol before she pressed the button that slid the plexi-glass into place. "Hoo. I guess we could do with some fresh air in here." She pulled open what seemed to be a freight door at the opposite end of the carriage.

"I'll tell you what?" she said as she slit the tape that bound Dawn's legs and hauled her to her still somewhat shaky feet before pushing her out the open door. "Just to prove I'm not really a bad guy," the dark-haired woman reached into a pocket and tossed something small and metallic to land at Dawn's feet. "You might need that to call your precious sister, assuming you don't collapse before you get to a phone."

Dawn looked on stunned as the train pulled away without her before she reached up to pull the tape from her mouth.

She looked up and down the tracks. Aside from the fact that the train had gone one way, no particular direction seemed any better than the other. Part of her wanted to go as far and as fast as she could in the opposite direction from the train, but Sam might be counting on that, perhaps dropping her off where the next town back was twenty miles away and the one ahead was only two. Maybe, if it had been daylight she might have climbed one of the nearby hills to get an overview of the terrain. Then, she corrected herself, if it was daylight and she had any shoes. Dawn picked up the quarter that Sam had thrown and tossed it. "Heads I go on, tails I turn back," she told herself as she caught it and slapped it down on the back of her left hand.

 




 

Spike squirmed uncomfortably as Buffy's finger drew patterns on his abs under his shirt, causing the bike to swerve slightly before he righted it. Then, he became aware of a certain impatience that began to accompany the gesture and realised that the pattern she was drawing wasn't random, but an arrow pointing to one side. Finally, he did what she wanted and gradually pulled the bike closer alongside Wes's. Somehow, with nothing more than eye movements Buffy managed to communicate to Willow what she wanted. Either that or the witch just decided to take the easy route to finding out what she wanted.

"What is it, Buffy?"

"I need you to set up one of your special conference calls for the four of us."

"Hokay, but we'd best warn the guys so we neither of us end up in a ditch."

Buffy simply raised her visor and leant forward to speak to Spike. Willow had a slightly more difficult job and eventually resorted to the very telepathy that she had been supposed to be warning Wes about in order to issue the warning.

"So, what's with the cloak and dagger, Buff? " the redhead asked when she had established a mental link between them all.

"I think Riley's getting twitchy. I think he's not only having second thoughts, but third and fourth and fifth ones. When I mentioned Angel's crew he pretty much lost it. I think by the time we get wherever we're going, he's going to have just about convinced himself it's all a misunderstanding, that Sam has a good reason for anything she's done and that he really should be on her side rather than pal-ing around with a bunch of vampires and demons. "

"And we all know what comes after denial. " Willow added.

"He's not going to just go home and leave wifey to a bunch of demons and demon-lovers. So, what do you want to do about it? " Spike asked.

"I was thinking, when we get to Simi, we're probably going to end up following the track, which goes through these tunnels, which might be like an opportunity to put up a barrier that would give us enough of a head start to get Dawn out and take Sam. I guess we need to wait and see what happens when the train starts moving again."

"You mean we go through, and then, pouf, barrier before the first truck gets there? That's quite an order."

"But can you do it, Red?" the vampire asked impatiently.

"Sure. I think."

"Cool." Buffy laid out one last surprise. "There's just one more thing. Riley wanted me to send Angel to Burbank, but it turns out they were already headed up the I405. They'll meet the train at Chatsworth, but I think, for now, it's safer to let Riley think he's got a few more miles of track to play with."

"But how are they going to stop the train?" Wes asked. "Isn't Riley's man in the control room going to think he has a bit more time to get it somewhere out of the way?"

The glee in Spike's "voice" was apparent even through the spell. "Well, how would you stop it, if you were them?" he asked.

"Probably with more finesse than any of the others except Fred is capable of."

"Just when I was thinking you got my idea of fun, watcher. At least, long as Bit's safe."

The minutes dragged on as the convoy continued to eat up the miles between them and the train. Skirting Oxnard, they travelled on through Camarillo. At Thousand Oaks they turned off the 101 taking a link road that would become the 118 at Simi Valley. They had already followed the railway tracks for several miles when Riley's contact rang back to say the train was, once more, on the move.

 




 

"You're sure this is the right place?" Angel looked at Fred. "This is definitely the right line."

"Well, assumin' they're usin' the passenger lines. There's all sorts of freight lines, but I figure this is the most likely way they'll come," Fred replied.

The entire LA gang had piled into Gunn's truck and Angel's car and now stood around beside the two vehicles, watching the level crossing in front of them as if they expected it to suddenly do something.

"So, just as a purely theoretical question, I don't suppose anyone has any ideas on how we're actually supposed to stop a hundred ton train?" Lorne asked from beneath his baseball cap, "or were you and junior planning on doing the father and son Superman act and just standing in the middle of the track?"

"You know, when I was checking up on the Net, there were all these stories from like ten, fifteen years ago where they reckoned gangs would push cars onto the tracks and wait for the next train to smash into them. Eventually they started running patrols to check the line in front of all the scheduled trains. but this isn't really a scheduled train. Thing is, the train would have to stop to check there was no damage before they could go on. Sometimes maybe a bit of debris could damage a brake line or something so they couldn't take any chances."

Angel turned and looked at Gunn's truck with an appraising eye, at least until the young man realised what he was doing.

"Get real, I sold my soul for this truck. You want to write off a car for a kid I only met once, use your own."

"But."

"No buts. This truck is staying this side of that there barrier and that is final."

"But I don't have insurance," the downcast vampire almost whined.
 
Chapter 6.11
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

 
Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.
SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)


Chapter 6.11
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Dawn stumbled unsteadily from one railway tie to the next. The wound in her thigh was seeping blood, and even though out here the night air was chill, her body was coated in a cold sweat, the salt from which further aggravated her tender flesh. She tried to keep her thighs from rubbing together as she walked, but she was so tired and the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other would lull her into numbness until the pain brought her back.

So much of her concentration was swallowed up by her effort to keep moving that it came as a shock when she realised that she could no longer see the ties beneath her feet. Her focus had been only on matching her steps to their even spacing and the feel of their smooth, slightly oily, coolness beneath her feet. She turned around and could see a vaguely lighter area of night sky framed by the tunnel walls.

Looking back in the direction she had been headed, she could see nothing. Not even a single feature was discernible in the Stygian gloom. She forced herself to walk on into the velvet darkness, her path chosen for better or worse.

What did she have to fear from darkness, for she was Light, formed from the very Light of Creation? She felt no pain, for she had no earthly form. She simply was and always would be.

 




 

A frigid wind whistled from the tunnel ahead of them, buffeting the bikers, as they not so much sped as motored toward their goal. Travelling down the outer edges of the track was like one enormous level gravel drive. Neither of the bikes were designed with off-road use in mind, and if the men were to risk too great a turn of speed on the unstable surface, it might result in an accident that would prevent them from reaching their goal. Yet, as the first gasp of air from the tunnel reached them, Spike rolled back his right wrist and gave his bike full throttle.

Raising her visor, Buffy simply asked, "Dawn?"

Spike nodded. "She's bleeding." He had to shout his reply as the speeding air through the tunnel tried to snatch the words away. Wes followed closely behind, coming up on the other side of the tracks, but the humvees had to slow up, their width not so far short of that of the trains the tunnel was designed for.

The time it took for them to traverse the tunnel seemed to go on forever, and then they saw her. Silhouetted in the beams of the bikes' headlights she stood frozen in the middle of the track. Her stance was reminiscent of something in a Japanese animé just before the monster breaks free of its human shell. Her hair straggled around her face in sweat-soaked strands. She held her arms rigid so that her wrists were almost six inches from her hips, but then her hands just seemed to dangle there. Her feet were about a foot apart and she swayed slightly as if her legs didn't want to support her any more. The closer they got the worse the picture in front of them became. First it was the smears of blood on her thighs that they saw. Then, it was the ragged state of her feet beneath their coating of oil and dirt. The worst of all, the vacant eyes of someone completely unaware of the world around them, they didn't actually see until the bikes slewed to a halt just ahead of her. When their lights illuminated her slack features, she didn't even blink.

 




 

Just as the four men had pushed the convertible into position across the eastbound track and locked on the parking brake, Lorne's cell phone rang. "Angel Investigations?" None of the men knew why it had seemed more appropriate to push the venerable old car to meet its doom, but somehow lining it up there under its own power would have been like expecting it to assist in its own demise.

"Angel?" Lorne held out his phone to the vampire. "It's Spike, he rang the office number, got diverted to me."

"Angel? We found Dawn. She's messed up bad. She looks like Ronette Pulaski. You and your guys have got to make sure that bitch goes down and find out what the hell they've doped her with. She's not speaking. She doesn't have a clue what's going on around her. It could be shock, but Klinger here reckons that that train is basically a mobile lab where they develop antivenins and antitoxins. That means it has a load of poisonous shit so watch the humans if she starts throwing bottles, but they might just have the antidote to that poisonous shit."

"Spike slow down."

"She dumped Dawn off the train, doped up with god knows what, barefoot and half-dressed, to walk down the line. She hasn't come past us, so she's headed for you, unless you've already missed her. I am going to hunt this cunt down, but for now it's my place to look after Buffy and Dawn, so I'm counting on you to make her regret ever laying a finger on that girl and to find out exactly what she did to her. Clear enough?"

"Crystal."

"Right then, good luck."

Angel leapt into the convertible and drove it off the tracks. "New plan, guys. Dawn isn't on the train any longer. I figure, Connor and I can probably catch a free ride without too much difficulty. Fred, you drive the truck. When the train goes past, just turn onto the tracks and follow on behind, I'm hoping Gunn and Lorne can make the jump to the caboose. There is a woman on that train, name of Sam Finn who has been .basically she has Dawn so messed up on whatever they gave her she doesn't even know where she is."

"The lab could apparently be full of various toxins and hopefully their antidotes. We need to find out what this woman has done to Dawn and how we can undo it. We've got a better chance of catching her unawares this way. If we block the track there's a chance she'll ditch the stuff we need before we can get to her."

Angel looked around the group. "I want you all to be real careful. These guys are humans, but they think that gives them the right to kill anything that isn't-."

"Angel, man, we been through this. Sam woman, evil, needs to be interrogated. Other soldiers, potentially lethal, but we have to try to not play too rough, even if they kill our friends. We get."

The lights on either side of the crossing started to flash on and off and then the bell began to sound as the barriers dropped down to block the passage of any cars until the train had gone through. Finally, they heard the train's whistle and then it was speeding past them.

As the train passed over the level crossing Angel began to sprint along on its left, Connor doing much the same on its right. Angel was surprised to see a sliding door standing open even while the train was moving. He made a leap and grabbed the rail next to the door, pulling himself into the very section of the train where he wanted to be. Connor was less fortunate and made a leap to the top of the final car. Once there, he knelt down and leant over the end of the car above the point where a ladder made its way onto the car's roof. He reached down ready to offer a helping hand to Gunn and then Lorne as they made the jump from the hood of Gunn's pick up truck. Once they were safely aboard Fred dropped back with the truck, but still kept pace.

 




 

Sam was just washing the last of Dawn's blood from her hands as she heard the voice from behind her.

"I'd like to be the first to offer my condolences."

"Really, and why would that be?"

"Well, you've lost your little scheme. One way or the other you've lost your husband, and if you," Angel lashed out from his seemingly relaxed position to drive the heel of his hand into Sam's nose. He didn't quite use enough force to drive the bone shards into her brain, but then he had a hundred years of practice to fall back on. Without any apparent break in flow he continued his chat. "don't tell me, now, exactly what you did to Dawn Summers, you can say goodbye to anything that passes for a face."

 




 

Spike moved to get in the backseat of the humvee with Buffy and Dawn, but the slayer gently pushed him away.

"Wes can follow us to the hospital. He'll help with what needs to be done. Take the orbs, just in case Riley does switch sides, take Willow and do what you have to do."

"I have to be with you. That's what family's meant to do."

"Spike, she hurt Dawn. We need to find out how. Go kick her lying ass till she tells you how to fix her. Then, kick it some more, just for me. And then, just so long as there's enough left of her to stand trial afterward, you do whatever the hell you want. You hear me?" She craned her neck to whisper the words in his ear too quietly for the vehicle's driver to catch and then she kissed him goodbye. "Sam thinks I'm going to be too busy looking after Dawn to come looking for her. Prove her wrong."

Spike stood up and gave a remarkably authentic looking salute. "Yes, ma'am," he replied before pushing shut the vehicle door.

Buffy rolled down her window, "And as soon as you've done that, soldier, I recommend some R & R. Go see your family. They'll be waiting."

"Sounds like damn good advice to me. I'll be with you soon, love. Watch over her for me."

Less than a minute later the convoy was now back on the road. This time Willow rode behind Spike, and they were short one humvee and one bike. All that mattered to Spike was that he had Buffy's blessing, Red had the barrier spell ready, and he intended to catch up with this Sam before Angel and his crew had all the fun.
 
Chapter 6.12
 

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.
SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)


Chapter 6.12
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Willow clung on with her arms wrapped tighter around Spike's waist than Buffy's had ever been, but then Buffy had never been terrified out of her wits by Spike's driving, or at least not since she realised that despite appearances the vampire was almost always in perfect control. Tonight, however, was an exception to the rule.

When they had followed along the roads and the train had been obliged to limit its speed because it was passing through various built up areas, they had gained ground. When the train was stationary, even though their vehicles were less efficient on the track, they still gained ground. Now that Spike had a vision of the train effortlessly outdistancing him as the bike struggled on the gravel surface, he just pulled the throttle right back and said "damn the consequences".

Willow, she just held on tight, both to Spike and the orbs at his waist, and kept watch for the end of the second tunnel. That would be her cue to release the barrier spell behind them, forcing Riley and his team to double back the maximum possible distance to catch up with them. That wasn't to say that Willow entirely agreed with Buffy's assessment of the Riley situation.

The soldier had looked pretty distraught at the sight of the slayer's younger sister. Willow had an idea that, even if he'd been in the process of convincing himself that everything up to that point had been a huge misunderstanding, that the spectacle of the bratty teenager he had once known, reduced to little more than a battered, bleeding husk was something he couldn't reason away. The thing was, say by the time he and his people arrived on scene, Sam was in a similar or worse condition, then any sympathy he might have had for their cause would probably dissipate fairly rapidly.

All of which brought her to another question.

Spike tapped her on the arm, a pre-arranged signal that he could see the end of the tunnel. Willow released her spell, praying that she was doing the right thing when she used just enough power to make it last for about five minutes. With luck, that would give Angel and his crew, along with the blond vampire, as much of a head-start as they needed, without giving them long enough to beat Sam to a bloody pulp.

"Spike? " she communicated telepathically with the vampire.

"What, Red? "

"When you catch up with this train full of humans, what exactly are you going to do? "

"Exactly what Buffy asked me to. "

"Which is what? "

"Find out what she did to Dawn and then beat the crap out of her some more. Maybe use her as a comparative test to see if she's lying. "

"But wouldn't the chip.? "

"Chip's history, Red. Dru wasn't looking for a pet. She was looking for the old Spike back."

"Oh. Ohhh. And Buffy knew? "

"Buffy knew. Up till she saw what they'd done to Bit, she figured to keep it a secret. I guess what they did to Niblet has her past caring. "

"I guess she really does trust you. "

"Yeah. Surprisingly enough, she really does. "

 




 

Buffy looked at the sweat-covered face that she cradled in her lap. Like her mother, but not; like her, but not; her father's eyes like those of a dead man beneath her taped-down lids. Features from all her family were recognisable in the unique and miraculous being that she was so afraid of losing. This free spirit who could make her so proud one day and so exasperated the next, much like the latest addition to her inner circle who had been right about the pain she would feel if she lost her.

Guilt filled her again as she saw the events leading up to her mother's death repeating themselves. She had gone off to college and as soon as she had settled in, she had stopped coming home, neglecting her mother and Dawn. Then, her mom had got sick and she'd tried to make up for it, but how do you say sorry for the long-term neglect of people so important to you, or more accurately people to whom you were so important. And then she'd come back to life, and she'd pretty much ignored Dawn all over again, and now Dawn was going to die and it was her fault for bringing Riley and the Initiative into their lives.

Buffy's petite hands wiped away the stringy strands of hair from her sister's face. Just over a week from now she should be the belle of the ball at her first big formal and instead it was as if the life had drained right out of her.

"Dawnie, I am so sorry. I never meant for anything to hurt you. I wish I'd never met Riley Finn, never dated him, never brought him back to Revello; anything that would mean that you'd be well and here with me now." Tears dropped from Buffy's eyes, normally hazel, but transformed by the sheen of tears to a rich, emerald hue. The droplets fell on her sister's cheek. Buffy smoothed them away from the soft cheek using the ball of her thumb, and was rewarded when her sister's eyelids fluttered for the first time since they had found her.

"Mommy?"

"No, Dawnie. It's Buffy."

Buffy removed the tape that had held the girl's eyelids closed in an effort to prevent her eyes drying out.

"Ouch. Well, if I didn't know before now it was you, yanking out my eyelashes would be the clincher."

"Dawnie, are you okay?"

"Well, I can't say tonight was my best night ever.

Sam killed Brandon. Just Bang. Shot him without a second thought. And I was such a bitch. I was blaming him for whatever was in the drinks. and he was just trying to protect me and now he's dead."

"Dawn, Brandon's not dead."

"But she said so. She said five minutes and every vampire in a half-mile radius would be drawn by the smell of blood."

"Well, I guess his dad turned up in four, then. His dad got him to the hospital, and Willow did some major healing mojo to get rid of the bullet wound. I think there was a phone in his room. Want me to try-."

"Buffy, where are we?" Dawn's eyes fixed on the back of the vehicle's driver. The man wore civilian clothes, but the close cropped hair was almost as good as a uniform. She looked around the vehicle and then back at her sister, pushing herself away from her. "He's one of them. This is their truck. You're not Buffy. You might look like Buffy, but you can't be Buffy." The youngster began to fumble with the handle on the door and Buffy had to grab at her to stop her throwing herself from the vehicle.

"Get away! Get away! Get away!" Dawn's struggles in her weakened state weren't even enough to bruise Buffy with her strongest kicks, but her high-pitched screams were still almost enough to rupture eardrums.

"Pull over," Buffy commanded the driver, thinking that perhaps it might be better if Dawn could talk to Wesley as well, maybe even ride with him if that made her more at ease. Maybe if she could see that she could get out of the vehicle if she wanted when it was stationary it would calm her.

Dawn's thrashing suddenly stilled, even as the truck pulled over at the wayside and Buffy found herself looking once more into those sightless, blue eyes.

 




 

Willow got even more worried about Spike's driving when he began to cross the rails, following a set of tyre tracks that led off into a siding.

"How can you be sure we're going the right way? "

"I'm not. It's an informed guess. The tyre tracks started right where the Angelmobile was parked and they hadn't managed to stop the train, so my guess is they're following it. So, if the tracks go over into a siding, I'm betting that the train is in the siding, too. "

Much to Willow's concern, Spike pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began to speak to whoever had called him, not reducing the bike's speed one iota even though he was now only using one hand to steer the machine.

"Okay, love. It's more information than we did have. I guess it'll help narrow things down. And if she can come out of it once, she can do it again. The kid's a fighter. Gotta go, love. I think we just reached the end of the trail. Take care."

Spike dropped the phone back into his pocket and returned both hands to the handlebars just in time to swerve the bike around the old truck and the girl standing next to it with a pistol pointed at what seemed to be an Initiative guard.

 




 

Lorne crouched next to Gunn and Connor on the roof of the train car, all three swaying slightly as the train pulled off the main track. "Since when did I start doing all the action stuff? Do I look like I'm dressed to join up for Mission Impossible? The dry cleaning on this is going to be a bitch."

Gunn scanned the green demon's bright red suit and electric blue shirt. "In that get up, you look more like you're Superman's really ugly ass cousin, who pimps in his spare time. Besides, you've done the hard bit. All we need to do is find a way to get off this roof and into the train before we get decapitated by a power line or something on our way to Union Station."

"Thank you, Mr Sunshine. Can I just say I liked it so much better when Junior needed a babysitter."

Connor began to make his way along the roof in a crouching run. All the ventilation hatches on the train were too narrow to use as a means of entry and the carriages' flexible couplings joined seamlessly together. There was only one visible way in.

Lorne watched in disbelief as Connor was silhouetted against the brightening sky. He seemed to do some sort of handstand, gripping the open doorframe with his fingertips, then as he balanced head down he seemed to twist, crossing his arms over so that when he let himself swing down through the doorway, he was facing into the carriage.

"You know that decapitation deal?" the demon asked as he turned toward Gunn. "Starting to look like the preferred option."

"I don't think it's going to be a problem."

"Why's that?"

"Because we seem to be stopping." The other man answered as he tried to grip the ridged rubber of the section between the two carriages.

 




 

Sam backed away from the vampire, seeming to stumble over something as she kept her gaze fixed on the figure before her. Angel didn't rush. There was really no where for her to go. She scuttled backwards like a frightened crab.

"Now, really, you might want to try to keep just a little dignity here," Angel chided.

Sam backed away even further and faster, seeming to think that the well beneath her stainless steel desk would offer her some measure of protection. However, that wasn't her real plan. Instead she hit the panic button located in the desk well. Three sets of shutters came down dividing the train car into four. The last set came down between the two adversaries. The shutters were of the type that had once adorned many shop fronts, made of long horizontal rods, joined by shorter vertical ones in a brickwork type pattern. They were designed to isolate the various areas without preventing the use of firearms. Almost immediately, the train began to slow to stop.

Sam picked up a tissue from a box on one of the benches. She wiped the blood from her nose and then with an audible snap she pushed it back into place. "Okay, Angel. It is Angel, isn't it? I'm guessing, but tortured expression, or is it constipated? Billowing coat? Seems to fit. You've got maybe ten seconds before the rest of my men get in here with rifles blazing. Still think I'm going to tell you what you want? Or do you think maybe you'll be next on the operating table?"

"I think you're the one with the misconceptions," came the voice from the far end of the car, as Connor took a stance covering the far door with the pistol he drew from where it had been taped at the small of his back. "Like the one where you think he would come alone."

"He's got a point," Angel said, managing to sound almost regretful as he pulled a similar pistol from his own pocket.
 
Chapter 6.13
 

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Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.13
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Spike pulled the bike to a stop alongside the rearmost car of the train, just as Gunn and Lorne dropped from the car's roof less than twenty feet away.

"And I thought they'd pretty much done away with that form of economy travel everywhere except India." Spike drawled as he pulled the tranq rifle from the rack on the side of the bike.

He turned toward the rear of the train. "You got some plan for where you're goin' with that thing?" Gunn asked, not able to tell in the very first flush of the false dawn whether the hefty rifle Spike carried was designed for bullets or darts.

"Sure, I'm going to go shoot that guy your bit of fluff has pinned down, hopefully swap guns with her, and then work my way through toward the front until I find the bitch that hurt Dawn." He didn't even break stride as he answered.

"Any objections?" Spike asked the question in a tone that intimated that if there were, then the person making them might be on the receiving end of whatever the rifle did hold.

"Nope, not unless that thing fires bullets." Gunn's answer came just as Spike rounded the end of the train, levelled the rifle and shot two darts into the soldier's thigh in rapid succession before he became aware of the new threat, all of which was pretty impressive with a bolt action rifle.

Fred heaved a sigh of relief as the soldier slumped to the ground, knowing that even with the truck's door as cover, the stand-off couldn't have lasted. As soon as the soldier had realised the pistol she held was only a tranq gun it would lose all value as a deterrent, partly because the chances of her hitting at that range were slight and partly because being tranquillised just isn't as scary as being shot.

"You do know those darts are meant to be strong enough to take down a werewolf, don't you? Using two on an ordinary guy's kind of overkill."

Spike took a moment to assess the man's breathing even as he took the pistol from Fred's unresisting hands and passed her the rifle, which he had reloaded as he crossed the ground between them.

"Ammo?" He held out a hand and Fred passed him a handful of darts. "He'll live. Didn't want to risk him staying up. You've got two darts left there, pet. It's ready to fire but it's bolt-action, so make sure you hit first time or you might not get a second shot." He tapped the chest of the fallen man as he made his way to the door by which the soldier had exited. "And they're wearing body armour so go for the legs."

"Maybe we should go start from the front?" Gunn suggested, but Lorne was already following Spike into the train.

"Hell, no. I want to see this," the green demon responded.

Fred passed the rifle to Gunn. "Guess it's down to us."

Willow hesitated for a fraction of a second but then decided the humans with only two darts were far more likely to need her help than the invulnerable vampire. She scurried after the couple.

As it turned out, there was only a squad of eight on the train. Connor had accounted for two, one tranqued and one pistol-whipped into unconsciousness before the third member of their squad had become more wary of the teenager, only to be shot from behind when Spike made his way through from the rear car.

Angel had taken out one with the tranq gun, by the time Spike made his way into the car where he, Connor and Sam were. The soldier's partner had dropped back, and broke cover only occasionally to take pot shots in the hope of getting a lucky hit, and from his caged position there didn't seem to be much Angel could do about it.

"Need a hand there, grandpa?" Spike asked as he bent to grasp the first set of shutters.

"You won't be able to shift those," Sam crowed. "They're titanium alloy and once they're locked in place, it would take over a ton of pressure to lift them."

Spike barely seemed to strain a muscle as the locks anchoring the shutters, deformed and then gave, allowing him to push the metal rods back up into the ceiling.

"Really? Then I guess I'm just imagining this." Lorne and Connor watched from cover behind the car's stainless-steel units, as the desperate soldier emptied his clip in the direction of the seemingly unstoppable vampire, who calmly moved to open the shutters separating him from his grandsire.

The panicked private fumbled as he tried to load a new clip into his SMG even as he knew it was hopeless, the spent shells falling around the blond's feet a testament to its futility.

"Thought you weren't going to be able to make it?" Angel queried from his cover behind the examination table as Spike stepped through to remove the last obstacle between him and their attacker. Fortunately, the hail of bullets also kept Sam trapped in her cover under the desk.

"Change of plans. Buffy seemed to think it was important that this bitch," Spike reached under the desk and pulled Sam out by her hair before dragging her to the exam table. ".should learn that you don't go messing with our family and expect to get away with it."

Passing his gun to Angel, he then pulled a set of handcuffs from his coat pocket snapping one end around Sam's wrist and fastening the other to the rail that ran around the table. Only a second after passing his gun to Angel he reclaimed it.

"You just happened to have those in your coat pocket?" the older vampire asked.

"Yeah. Same way I just happened to have a tranq rifle. We did get enough notice to pick up some bits and pieces, you know."

By this point, the dispirited soldier was scrambling backwards across the floor away from the two vampires.

"Can't say we don't appreciate the help," Angel responded dryly, as he raised his pistol to shoot the last guard in the leg, even as Gunn, Fred and Willow appeared behind his target.

"There were two guarding the driver, but we knocked them out and tied the driver up," Fred reported when Angel raised an eyebrow in their direction.

"I guess that only leaves us one little problem to deal with, then." Spike began to pull open the doors of the various base units seemingly at random, until he found one which concealed a trash receptacle. Pulling out the garbage bag, he tipped its contents out onto the desk beneath which Sam had been hiding. Flipping aside a couple of bloody swabs, he surveyed the other items.

"Okay, we're looking for another bottle that says V64. I suppose if someone finds a clean syringe we can use it, otherwise this one'll do, and we're also looking for what came out of here." Spike held up a small cellophane wrapper.

"Well, come on! There's more than enough cupboards and drawers in here for everyone to take one, or do I have to do everything? Quicker we find out what we want, the quicker Dawn gets fixed and you all get to go home."

Spike moved to a roll-front wall unit that opened up to display a bewildering array of bottles. All were numbered, some marked with a "V", some with an "A". He pulled all the ones marked with the number 64 from the shelves and shoved them into his pockets with the exception of one bottle of the venom. He shook the bottle of milky fluid in his hand as he walked

"Okay, lady, and I use the term extremely loosely. You are going to tell me exactly how you would treat someone who's been injected with this stuff. You better tell the truth, because once we know what-."

Spike was cut off by Fred's startled epithet as she pressed the button that opened the plexiglass screen obscuring the homeless man's cage. "My God!" she exclaimed as she stared in shock at the filthy, malnourished man in his confinement. The rest of the crew turned, alerted as much by the malodour as by Fred's comment.

"Keys?" Angel demanded, holding his hand out in front of Sam, "unless of course you would rather we do a strip search."

The brunette grudgingly pointed to the desk drawer. Willow pulled the drawer open, finding not only the keys but also the other thing they'd been searching for. She tossed the keys to Fred and then held up the Dictaphone for Spike to see, the tape marked simply with the word Key and the previous evening's date.

As Fred freed the unfortunate man, Spike turned back to their captive.

"Okay, Mrs Mengele, as I was saying, you're going to tell me exactly how to treat Dawn, because I am going to inject this stuff into you. I am going to wait until you are in at least as bad a state as Dawn was when I last saw her, and then I might think about following your instructions to make sure you're not lying. In fact, just to speed things up I might go for a double dose."

"Y-you can't," Sam pouted in disbelief.

"You really think anyone here is going to stop me? Or that they could?"

"Y-you c-can't hurt anyone, you're-. The chip."

"Hey, well, I guess scum who harm people I care about rate as subhuman even with the chip, or didn't it actually hurt when I pulled you out from under that desk by the hair?"

A look of shock crossed Sam's face as she belatedly registered the significance of her earlier pain. This was no toothless guard dog.

"Bollocks it, I'm bored already just waiting for you to start talking."

Spike picked up the used syringe and used it to puncture the lid of the bottle he was holding, drawing the contents of the bottle into it. He depressed the plunger just enough to expel any air bubbles and then pulling on Sam's free arm until her stretched out position allowed her no resistance he plunged the syringe into the centre if her back, through the scrubs she wore, only removing it when it was empty.

"Okay, still think I won't do it?" Spike pulled another bottle from his pocket. Shaking it in front of Sam's suddenly sweating face.

"So what is this shit?"

"Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik venom."

This earned her an almost casual backhanded slap from Spike. "You sadistic bitch! You mean you were just going to leave her like that. We wouldn't have had a hope in hell of curing her, even if we worked out what was wrong. Not unless Red here could have summoned one of those ugly bastards, and you know she can't be doin' with that dark mojo."

Sam wiped a thin trail of blood from her mouth. She wouldn't have been entirely convinced if someone told her that Spike's blow had been deliberately restrained.

"That was the plan."

"Spike." Angel's voice was soft. "Let me."

The blond paced to the far end of the car, where the sight of Dawn's new boots standing in a corner enraged him even more.

"Spike, here, never really did have the patience required for torture. He'd forget how fragile humans are. So, if I were you I'd talk quick before that injection starts to have an effect, because if you go catatonic on him, I wouldn't count on your still being able to speak, when and if you ever come round."

"You inject a bottle of the antidote A64."

"You don't drink it?" Willow asked.

"You can make a form that you drink, but the injection works more quickly."

"And that's it? One injection?" Angel prodded.

Sam nodded. "Unless there's no improvement after an hour, in which case you might need a second dose."

"So what now?" Willow asked.

"We wait." Most of the group turned to look at the blond, except Fred and Connor, who were busy trying to see to the alcoholic who seemed to be unable to stand on his own, though whether this was a result of his previous cramped conditions, hunger or alcohol was anyone's guess.

"This stuff might only work if it's administered within minutes of the venom or something like that, so we wait until she's symptomatic before we give her it, and in the meantime we check that tape to make sure there's nothing that contradicts what she just told us."

Willow picked up the Dictaphone and rewound the tape before playing back the first few seconds.

Suddenly, the door diagonally opposite the one Connor and Angel had used to enter the train was jerked open. Framed in the doorway, Riley and Graham levelled submachine guns at the group.

"Mind if we join the party?" the scar-faced soldier asked.
 
Chapter 6.14
 

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Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.14
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Willow stopped the tape as soon as the army delegation arrived, unsure as to how events would play out.

"Sure. Come on in," Spike answered, ambling deceptively slowly toward the two men, one arm held just enough behind his back to mask the tranquilliser pistol he held in his hand. When he had blocked the soldiers' line of fire on everyone else in the car, he stopped. "Just leave those outside." He gestured at the guns the pair held.

When the soldiers hesitated, Spike continued. "What are you going to do? Shoot me? You've already tried that once tonight. Okay, so you were actually using something that might have been a bit more effective at that point. I guess you just keep underestimating Red here." Spike threw the soldiers a deliberate red herring, taking a chance that they had yet to pick up on the orbs' usefulness.

"Her little barrier didn't last so long. Maybe if we shot you now you'd bleed just as easy as you did back when I put a stake through your heart." Riley countered.

"And maybe if you try, I'll slam you head first into the wall and go through all your pockets to see if you happened to bring along your little plastic toy and try it on you. And for the record, I suspect Tabitha's little spell lasted precisely as long as she wanted it to." Spike raised an eyebrow in Willow's direction and the witch looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"The fact remains you tried to double-cross us," Riley argued.

"And you sent us to Burbank." Angel stepped up behind the other vampire. "I don't suppose you were ever intending the train to get that far."

"I kinda hoped we might catch up with it first." Riley admitted. "But I wasn't the one putting up magical barriers in the way of supposed allies."

"Yeah, well "supposed allies" just about sums you up doesn't it. Do you know yet which side you're on? Are you here to make sure Dawn gets what she needs to get better or are you here to rescue the little woman from the big bad demons?" Spike asked.

Riley's mouth opened and closed, but the fact of the matter was that he still really didn't know.

Spike grasped the door. "Make up your mind, guys. The bugs are getting in. None of your people have been hurt... much, but you're not bringing those weapons in here. And since the ones you really want to hurt are me and Angel, the whole guns thing isn't really going to do more than piss us off.

Besides, you really should meet your wife's houseguest."

"Don't believe him, Riley. They've been beating me. He said it was punishment for what you did to him the last time you were in Sunnydale."

"Oh, my little poison viper, he doesn't have to believe me. He only has to believe you.

Roll the tape, Red."

".May 2002, mobile lab 01.

Subject has the outward appearance of a typical teenage girl. Various samples have been taken for DNA and other tests including possible future comparison with the subject's supposed sister."

"Stop it.

Where are these samples?" Spike still stood almost at the door with his back to the woman.

"Riley, don't let them hurt me," Sam cried out as Angel turned back to face her.

"Finn, your wife stands condemned from her own mouth. You know that Dawn's no more demon than you are. But all she is to that bitch is a science experiment. Same as the poor drunken sot she had locked away in a cage that's not even big enough for him to lie down in.

An' I don't care what differences we might have, you still have feelings for Buffy. Don't bother tryin' to deny it. It's written 'cross yer face clear as day. You want her to be next on this bloody table? Just put down the sodding guns. Much as I hate to admit it, we need you guys to clear up this mess. I don't think a citizen's arrest is gonna stick. This is goin' to need your guys' own special brand of illegal incarceration. 'Cause, so help me, if you don't see that she is going to be locked away for the rest of her natural life, then I am going to have to take whatever other steps are necessary to ensure she doesn't threaten my family ever again."

Unexpectedly, it was Graham who spoke up on Spike's behalf. "Ri, man. Just do it. If she's yellin' that loud, they can't have hurt her too bad. And he's right. Bullets aren't going to help. You saw the girl. If that was your sister, how would you feel? All they're trying to do is find out what happened and how to help her. And if they are beating Sam for information then you've got a better chance of stopping them from in there, than out here."

All of a sudden the fight seemed to go out of the towering soldier. "Sure," he answered in a soft voice. Calling two of his squad by name, he had them collect all the guns and remain outside whilst the others moved into the increasingly crowded car.

"Okay, samples. Where? Or do we just pull the place apart until we find them?"

"Fridge."

Gunn opened up the small refrigerator he had discovered earlier in the search. With a sweep of his arm he gathered all the vials and petri dishes to his chest, carrying them over to where Spike had left the garbage sack on the desk. He shoved everything including the bloody swabs back into the bag. "I suggest we take this with us when we leave."

"Okay. Red, fast-forward a bit! We want to check what she says about that stuff she gave her."

"Riley, it's a set up. You know he's The Doctor. He's set this all up. and you believe him rather than your own wife."

"Lady, do you want me to get Red to cast a truth spell on you? Maybe we can find out why you married the big lunk-head in the first place?"

All of a sudden all Sam's protests stilled.

"Ho-kay." In the expectant hush, the whirr of the cassette wheels seemed like the roar of a jet engine, the clunk of the stop mechanism like the sound of twisting metal. Then, Sam's voice was clearly heard by all in the room.

".ation shows that the subject was created virgo intacta. Timing of the examination was such that we were unable to determine if the subject is truly fertile, but all indications are that her body functions completely replicate those of a normal human."

After the word "intacta" all hell broke loose, so that only Spike, Angel, Connor and Lorne heard the remainder of the statement. The entire LA chapter of demons-are-us leapt to intercept Spike in his homicidal rush at the woman handcuffed to the table. It looked like something out of Saturday morning wrestling, as Spike brushed off the attacking rugby scrum as if it were no barrier at all. His eyes glowed with a golden fire and it looked like nothing could bar his way, except the most powerful Scooby of them all.

"Thicken."

For the first time since he had carried the orbs Spike met a true physical challenge and he exerted all his will and anger to fight his way through the tar-like air, which seemed to surround him.

In return, Willow exerted all her willpower to keep him from exacting his unthinking revenge. The battle only took seconds, but the drain on Willow's power was incredible. Coupled with her earlier magic usage, it was the proverbial straw. The Wiccan collapsed unconscious to the floor of the car, a thin trail of blood dripping from her nose.

Spike stumbled forward as the magical barrier impeding his progress was removed and when he looked up after righting himself he was stunned by what he saw.

Sam was bent backwards over the examination table. Riley loomed above her, his hand at her throat, holding her pinned in place. Her eyes stretched wide in fear as she looked up into her husband's face.

"What the hell did you do to her? She's just a kid. That's all. Just Buffy's occasionally bratty, kid sister. How on earth could you think it's okay to treat people like that?"

The surprise was enough to make Spike drop back to his human face, his anger turning icy and hard instead of hot and fiery. "Tell the man why you think it's okay to rape little girls!" he instructed the woman in a cold dark voice devoid of all his usual humour.

Sam had to struggle to reply, gasping for air as her husband's hand pressed down on her throat. "Not rape. Standard gynaecological exam."

The look of disgust seemed etched into Riley's features. "Well, I bet it sure felt like rape to her," the country boy responded.

If anyone had been watching Spike, really watching him they might have spotted the instant he came to his decision. The flicker of emotion that showed on his features as anger gave way to vengeance.

He strode the few remaining steps to the table and with a carefully controlled fist, delivered a punch designed to be just enough to keep the woman unconscious for half an hour or so.

He looked into his former rival's eyes and for once the two of them were in perfect agreement. Spike tossed Riley the key for the handcuffs. "Take her away. She disgusts me."

From where she sat on the floor, Fred opened her mouth as if to protest. "But-."

Angel's hand brushed against her arm, and he gave his head the smallest of shakes.

Riley undid the cuff that was attached to the examination table and manoeuvred his wife into a fireman's lift.

Spike cleared his throat noisily and held out his hand. "Leave the handcuffs."

As the other soldiers gathered together to leave, Spike gripped Graham, the apparent voice of reason within the group, by the elbow, speaking in hushed tones. He pulled something from his pocket and pressed it into the other man's hands.

As his men made to leave, Riley stooped to pick up Willow from her position on the floor. Spike intervened, taking the Dictaphone from her hand and putting it in his pocket before he scooped the Wiccan up into his own arms.

"That's evidence, you know?" Riley commented as he fell into step alongside the vampire.

"I know. And it's also up to Bit whether she wants all that put on public record. If she wants it used to make sure that bitch you married gets everything that's coming to her, fine, but if she wants it burned it'll be on fire the minute she says so. Considering the other potential charges against her and the fact we all know this will never see an open court room, I don't think evidence is going to make that much difference."

Spike slid the witch's supine form into the back of the humvee that Sam wasn't in. "You should really take that old dosser back with you as well and get him checked out. There's no knowing what she's done to him, or how long it's been since he's eaten. Just do Red a favour and put him in the other truck. Oh, and if your blokes haven't found him already apparently the train driver's tied up somewhere. All the rest have gone sleepy-bye, so I don't know whether you'll just get him to drive the thing back with them on board, but give us a chance to get our kit together first."

"Where do you want me to take her?"

"Home. I'll ring Tinkerbell, let her know you're coming."

"What about you?"

"Hospital. It's time I went to see my girls."

As the vampire walked back to join the LA crowd in the train car, Riley actually found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, he'd been a little bit wrong about the blond vampire. If he could be so wrong about those closest to him, then it was just possible.

 




 

"So.?" Graham left the question hanging. How do you ask someone if they're going to be okay after their whole life turns upside down?

"So what?" Riley asked his friend.

"So, what happens now, I guess?"

The taller man shrugged. "I guess that depends on whether Buffy was right about the pull the kid's dad has with The Pentagon. I suppose we wait and see."

"And Sam?"

"My guess? They'll send her and anyone else they think was in on it to Nevada for "debriefing". After that? Who knows."

"And you?"

"I guess it depends whether the brass think I'm corrupt or stupid. Either way my career's for shit. The covert op whose wife is abducting people and he doesn't have a clue? And if Buffy's right the list goes way beyond that, but who the hell do you believe? A neutered HST with an axe to grind?"

"Ri, man." Graham paused as he realised the significance of what he'd seen earlier. "He hit her. Either he's had the chip removed or Sam is something other than human."

"After tonight, I might give you fifty-fifty on that," Riley responded in a self-pitying tone. He shook his head. "If Spike had the chip out, there would be a trail of bloody bodies right round town. Maybe he was just so angry it didn't register." He sat for a while staring sightlessly through the windshield of the humvee, considering the possibility that an unchipped Spike could live peaceably. "Nah. There's no way that he's got the chip out."

 




 

"So, what'd ya tell him?" Fred pounced as Spike got back into the train.

"Who?"

"The guy you gave the venom to. That's who."

"Oh, nothing much. Just told him that was what she'd used and that we'd cleaned them out of the antivenin, so he might want to get whoever did it to make some more."

"So you didn't tell him that you'd dosed her?"

Spike gave an evil grin. "Figure they'll work that bit out when she comes to. Didn't tell him they probably need to find a Glarghk Guhl Kashma'nik demon before they can make any more, neither."

At this Angel gave his grandchilde a long-suffering look.

"Wha'? It's not like they don't know where to find us. If there's any left after Dawn's better, they can have it an' welcome. Provided they ask nice, of course."
 
Chapter 6.15
 

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting
Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting





Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.15
Wednesday, May 15th, 2002

Spike picked up the heavy boots from the corner of the car. He turned to make his goodbyes to the LA crowd.

"I don't reckon as I've really got time to say thanks properly, what with me needin' to get this stuff back to Dawn and grandpa here-."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Okay. Angel-ass here needs to get back home before the sun's up, but I wouldn't want you to think we're not grateful. So, next time we're down, dinner? You pick the restaurant. I'll foot the bill. Prob'ly about a week an' a half, but I'll give you a bell nearer the time." He transferred his gaze to Gunn who still held the trash bag with all the samples.

"You'll see that gets burned or something?"

"Straight in the boiler when we get back," the young man confirmed.

"Right, then. Next time we're in LA."

With a wink to Connor and a, "see ya, kid," he left.

 

As soon as he could, he pulled off the train tracks and made his way onto the highway, though he considered turning back when he saw the road he was driving along now had the appellation of The Ronald Reagan Freeway. "What's next? I hope to hell no one in England's re-naming the M1 as The Maggie Thatcher Motorway."

Once he hit a clear stretch of straightish road he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Buffy? I'm on my way back. I've got what we need. She's going to be okay."

"And Sam?"

"Out cold, last I saw. Riley and his mates have got her." Spike's teeth nibbled gently at his lower lip before he continued. "They're takin' Red home, too. She collapsed."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Well, it looked pretty much like what happened that time she teleported Glory, but she's been out for longer. I think she should throw it off in time.

Buffy, there's something else. about Dawn. We found a Dictaphone. Sam was using it to make notes. Love, according to what she said it sounds like. Pet, let's just say her examination was thorough enough to know that Bit's a virgin-."

"She what? I am going to kill the bitch."

"That was pretty much my reaction as well, which is how come Red knocked herself out tryin' to stop me. The point I'm trying to make, though, is that it might be no bad idea, if they have some sort of rape counsellor there, for her to be around when she pulls out of it."

"Spike, I'm going to have to go. We're pulling up at the hospital."

"Okay, love. I'll be there with the antidote as soon as I can. oh, an' it's that Glargkh Guhl Kashma'nik venom, so you pretty much know what to expect until I get there."

"Okay... love." Buffy hesitated over the endearment but brought herself to say it after a couple of seconds. "We'll be waiting."

"On my way."

Spike selected the number for the second call, which he was dreading almost as much.

"Spike?" Tara immediately sounded puzzled that it was the vampire calling and not Willow.

"Yeah, pet. 'S me."

"What's happened? Buffy said you and Willow were heading on, but that she and Wes were bringing Dawn back."

"Which they are. They'd just made it to the hospital when I spoke to her. Look, Pixie, best I just spit this out. Willow fainted. Cardboard's takin' her back to the house. I told him I'd let you know so that you'd be there to look after her when she got there."

"I knew it-."

"Now, before you blame her, if she hadn't done what she did, then I would've probably done something really stupid. She did you proud, pet. If I hadn't lost my temper she'd have been just fine. In fact, if I'm still at the hospital next time you see her awake, tell her I said thank you."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Well, it looked to me like that last time at the hospital when you two did your hoodoo on Glory, only she'd been out for a good ten minutes when I headed out. I would have hung around and kept an eye on her but I figured it was best to get this antidote to the Niblet quick as I could."

"Spike, it's okay. You don't have to explain."

"Just didn't want you thinkin' that it was 'cause I wasn't bothered. Look, pet, can you ring Clem's lot and let them know panic's over, for now."

"Sure, Spike. I'll pass the word."

"Thanks, love. See you later."

"Bye."

 




 

Buffy scooped up her sister in her arms. She had wrapped her own coat around her to provide her with more cover than the skimpy, pvc dress. Wesley stepped out from the shadows by the entrance, having arrived and parked up his bike a couple of minutes earlier. He picked up Buffy's helmet and backpack, leaving the somewhat unsure soldier with nothing to do.

As it was quite some hours since all the bars and clubs had ejected their patrons and not late enough for many people to be up for the day, the ER was blessedly empty when they arrived.

Even as she approached the desk, a male nurse came forward and took Dawn from her arms, while the receptionist took her details, before passing her over to the triage nurse to give as much detail as she could about what had happened to her sister. Buffy explained as much as she felt able, wondering how this was going to look to social services, but knowing that Dawn needed the medical attention for her other injuries if not because of the venom in her system.

"Her boyfriend called earlier to say that someone had spiked both their drinks. By the time his dad got there Brandon was hurt and was brought here and my sister was gone. We've been looking for her ever since. When we found her she was like this. She came out of it once, but reverted back almost straight away.

My fiancé and some friends managed to track down the people who'd taken her. She's been poisoned with a rare, animal venom which causes hallucinations. He's on his way here now with the antidote, but we're more worried about her other injuries. It seems. The person who took her may have abused her, but she hasn't been herself long enough to tell us anything."

"It's okay, miss. We've been expecting you. Your friend in the army managed to arrange for their specialist to be-."

"No!" Buffy's response startled the nurse with its vehemence. "I don't want her treated by army physicians. I want her treated by normal doctors." Frustration welled up in Buffy as she knew blurting out that the army was responsible for her sister's injuries would ultimately bring them more trouble. "Please, I just want her to be examined by a normal doctor. Someone who can treat her for the wound on her thigh and the damage she's done to her feet. Once Will gets here with the antidote it'll take care of the rest unless there's any further damage we don't know about."

The nurse's sympathetic attitude seemed to harden slightly. "Miss Summers, I have to say that in my opinion it would be remiss of you to not take advantage of the specialist. It's almost certain he would have more experience with these types of cases."

Buffy bit back the temptation to point out that he probably had more experience causing them.

"Okay, how about this? He can watch while she's examined by a proper doctor and if he has anything to say he can tell us, but I'm not having anyone from the army administering drugs to her or laying a finger on her and wherever possible I want to be with her in the treatment room. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly." The nurse bustled off toward the line of treatment cubicles, presumably to tell the army doctor his services were to be barely tolerated. Buffy followed after her but Wesley hesitated.

"Perhaps I should go and let Mr Michaels and Brandon know that we found her?"

"Sure. If they'll let you." Buffy looked over at the nurse.

"I think under the circumstances, he might be allowed a brief visit."

Wesley headed for the lift. "I'll be back shortly."

 




 

"Mr Michaels," Wes knocked softly at the door, before pushing it open. The police guard was gone, so it seemed like either Brandon had come round for long enough to tell them what they wanted to know or they had realised that they weren't going to be taking a death-bed deposition.

Brandon's father looked up from his seat by the far bed. "Yes?" he responded equally quietly to Wes's whispered greeting, as though afraid to wake the youth in the bed.

"It's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. We met earlier. I just wanted to let you both know that we found Dawn."

"How is she?" the older man asked.

"We're confident in time she'll make a full physical recovery. She's been poisoned but Spike and some other acquaintances managed to find out what had been used and he's on the way here with the antidote.

It's really not her physical injuries that are our major concern."

"So what is your major concern."

"Well, when Buffy was explaining to the admitting nurse about Dawn's condition she mentioned there was a possibility of 'abuse', a word which has certain connotations in these times, which if it's true could obviously have long-lasting psychological effects. As I came back on the bike, I don't actually know exactly what Spike may have been able to tell her.

Added to this, you don't have to be a genius to know that Buffy is understandably concerned that this may affect her case for guardianship." Even in the dimly lit room Wesley's gaze met the other man's squarely.

"I think, bearing in mind that the prime culprit is now in military custody and unlikely to face a civil trial, it would be better if your army friends began their cover up before word of this gets to social services. Buffy, Dawn and Spike deserve the chance to be a family."

The man on the other side of the room nodded. "I think that can be arranged. Why don't you stay with Brandon in case he wakes up, while I go find somewhere I can use my phone?"

 





Thursday, May 16th, 2002

Spike didn't even wait to check with the nurse when he made his way through the hospital doors. He simply let himself be guided by the scent of Dawn's blood. It didn't even register that the receptionist had scuttled out from behind her desk to try to stop the intruder. He paused as he reached the curtain that separated him from his girls unsure whether Dawn might not be suitably dressed for him to visit.

"Buffy?" he asked. "Is it okay to come in?"

The curtain was flung aside, and if not for the orbs Spike had a funny feeling he would have been bowled over by Buffy's fierce welcoming hug. He was in for another surprise as he caught a glimpse of Dawn dressed in a hospital gown sitting up in the hospital bed behind her, a huge grin plastered across her face at her sister's enthusiasm.

"She's..."

"Jeez, Spike. Don't you start talking about me as if I'm not here. I got enough of that from the doctors. I'm in and out, so make the most of it and get me that antidote before I go back to being a ball of light again."

"Antidote, right." Spike looked round, searching for a member of staff, suddenly noticing the receptionist who had been about to head back to her desk when she saw the welcome Spike received. "Excuse me, miss. You wouldn't know where we could find a syringe or someone who can administer an injection?"

The receptionist sniffed. "I believe Miss Summers told the doctor his services could be best employed fetching her and her sister a soda from the vending machine."

Spike raised a questioning brow as he moved round to give Dawn her own hug and Buffy flushed beneath his gaze. "Riley sent some army specialist, who just happened to be so close to hand that he got here before I did."

"You think the boys are back in town?"

"Up until tonight I haven't seen anyone I recognised but then, they wouldn't want me to. I think once everything's settled I'm going to want a nice long chat with Mr Michaels."

Dawn's grin vanished. "Not any longer than the one I'm going to want with Brandon."

"Now, look, pet. Give him a chance to explain. A guy doesn't-." Spike's pleas on Brandon's behalf were cut short by the arrival of the soda delivery guy.

Buffy pulled the can from his hand with a look of distaste. "Didn't we tell you to get diet?"

"Pet. Be nice to the man who's going to make your little sister better."

Buffy pulled herself in close against her fiancé once more. "You're the one who got the stuff. All he's going to do is stick a needle in her. and why does she get a needle when I had to drink a liquid compost heap?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Spike replied.

"Now, you want me to administer an injection?" the doctor asked.

"Well if you want I could do it, but I don't know what the insurance company might make of that," Spike suggested.

"Can we quit squabbling and somebody just give me the jab so I can get out of here and put on some clothes that cover my butt?" Dawn interrupted.

Spike pulled a bottle of antivenin from his pocket and tossed it to the doctor, who peered rather too intently at the label for comfort.

"You got some sort of problem, there, doc?"

The doctor turned to look at Spike. "This substance is from an army dispensary."

"And so is what made her sick in the first place. Just give her the damn shot."

The doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable with the situation but moved to follow Spike's instructions. "How much?"

"All of it."

The doctor moved to find a syringe in the trays of the trolley by Dawn's bedside but it seemed that their time had run out. Even as he filled the syringe Dawn's eyes seemed to lose focus once more.
 
Chapter 6.16
 

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Note: Thanks to my beta t_geyer for her unending patience, perseverance and support.


SECTION 6 - GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

Some boys take a beautiful girl
And hide her away from the rest of the world
I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

Hey now, hey now
What's a matta with ya?
Girls just wanna have fun now
Come on

(Cyndi Lauper, Album - 12 deadly Cyns... and then some)




Chapter 6.16
Thursday, May 16th, 2002

Spike cradled Buffy in his lap as they both waited anxiously by her sister's bedside. The slayer stroked her sibling's hand as if hoping the contact might help pull the teenager back from her delusion. Spike, in turn, stroked Buffy's back and twined the fingers of her other hand with his own.

"She should be coming out of it by now. It's not working. She should be better."

"Shhh. love. It's only been half an hour. Plenty time yet." Spike's words were partially belied by his own anxiety that Buffy could feel through the bond. "And if the first dose doesn't bring her round we've got plenty more. And to be quite honest I wouldn't be too upset if it took all three bottles to put the Bit to rights." An element of self-satisfaction made itself known.

"Spike, what aren't you telling me?"

"Hell!" said the vampire with a disingenuous smile. "Did I forget to mention that I'm expecting your ex to turn up looking for the leftovers? ...Once he puts two and two together and works out what's wrong with his missus, that is."

"Spi-ike." Buffy sounded surprised and impressed. She pressed her lips to Spike's forehead.

"You're not ticked?" the vampire asked.

"It seems to smack of justice to me, in an eye for an eye sort of way. I guess it's sort of petty, but after what she did... and I guess there's no permanent damage."

"Hey, I don't claim to be a champion. You want petty and vindictive? That, I can do."

"So? You have all the antidote?"

"All that they had on the train . I guess if Huck Finn doesn't come looking for it then we know they've got the base back up and running again."

"Where do you reckon Brandon and his dad fit into all this?" Buffy asked.

"I'm not rightly sure. It's a bit strange that he knew about the whole Hostile 17 thing, but when he said he didn't set the kids up, I believed him. And I know at that age everybody thinks they're immortal, but you don't get in the way of a bullet for someone you're setting up."

"So, you think Brandon's okay?"

Spike shrugged. "As much as I'm going to think any kid who comes after my Niblet is okay."

"That's enough of a recommendation for me. And dad?"

"I guess we'll hear him out."

At this point a nurse bustled into the cubicle. She passed a medium sized bag she was carrying to Buffy before she began going through the motions of taking Dawn's temperature and pulse.

"The gentleman who came in with you earlier dropped those off for you," she told the couple. Then, she continued almost as if she were talking to herself. "Hmm, temperature's dropping. Pulse is still the low side of normal."

"So, she's improving? Right?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, it seems so but we won't know for sure until she comes round and stays round."

Spike's attention seemed to be caught by some noise from outside the cubicle. "What is it?" Buffy asked, as the receptionist's protests became more voluble and the nurse moved out into the corridor to see what was causing the disturbance.

Spike's reply came slowly, and by the time he finished he was almost being drowned out by the woman's protests and by the sound of curtains being pulled aside. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, pet, I think it's Brandon." As he said the teenager's name, the curtain around their cubicle was pulled aside to reveal the youth, still in a hospital gown, one hand clasping the stand to which the bag for his saline drip was attached. His father hovered closely behind him.

"Well, I guess the Summers women go for the stubborn types." Buffy did her best to make light of the situation.

The older Michaels shrugged. "As soon as he woke up he was asking for her. When I said she'd been brought in, there was no way to keep him in that bed."

"How is she?" the teenager asked, looking as if it had taken all his reserves of strength to make his way down there. Spike slipped out from under Buffy and moved round to the opposite side of the bed to pull aside the curtain between Dawn's cubicle and the next, revealing an empty bed.

"The fever's dropping. As to the rest, it's a waiting game. Why don't you pull up a pew?" Spike took the seat next to Buffy's leaving the chair between the two beds for Brandon's father after they helped the teenager onto the empty bed.

"Really!" the nurse protested. "You can't just commandeer a bed anywhere you feel like it. These beds may be needed at any time for emergency cases."

"Well, in that case, maybe you should consider transferring Dawn up to the same room as her young man, because I have a funny feeling he's not going to be leaving," the vampire suggested. "It's past due for her to be moved to somewhere with actual walls, anyway. I mean, anyone could just come barging in here whenever they want," he added dryly.

The nurse scowled at the group and stalked off.

Brandon's father looked over at the vampire. "You seem to have a gift for ruffling people's feathers."

"Well, it's not like the boy's doin' any harm where he is, and it is past time they moved her out of here."

"I think they're still supposed to be assessing her, so they can know which ward to put her in," Buffy offered. "It's not like I'm in a hurry for them to stick her in the psychiatric ward."

"Shhh, pet." Spike's arm wrapped around Buffy's shoulders and she found herself pulled back onto his lap once more. "Not gonna happen. Not when they know it's a result of the poison. Not unless she was dangerous, which she isn't, though I don't think I'd want to be in your shoes, kid, when she does come out of it.

Anyway, what'd the watcher send you?"

Buffy pulled open the bag and flipped through its contents. "Some clothes for Dawn, a couple of thermos flasks, your car and bike keys and a note." She pulled the envelope from the bag. Spike looked over her shoulder as she read it.

"Dear All,

Willow is fine. Riley dropped her off about an hour ago. She has a migraine-type headache, but other than that she seems okay in herself, though she is anxious to know what transpired whilst she was unconscious. She assures us all that a bit of willow bark will put her right. You may want to stock up on aspirin before you get home.

The car is outside, ready and waiting for when you need it and the bike's back at Spike's flat. Tara picked out some clothes for Dawn to wear coming home, whenever that is, and she also thought you might both need a pick me up, though Spike may have to be careful where and when he drinks his.

I hope this finds you all in the best of health.

Wesley."

"You know I sometimes wonder what we did before that guy started hanging round," Spike said.

"We relied on Xander and gave him very specific instructions," Buffy told him.

"I don't suppose here would be the ideal place to discuss what happened tonight?" Brandon's father asked.

"No, not unless we just move back up to your room anyway," Buffy answered. "Though I agree we need to talk."

"I had a feeling you might think you were due some sort of explanation."

"You feel right." This was from the vampire. "But, as you said, here isn't the place. So, how about we call a truce for now."

The minutes ticked by as slowly as the first thaw of spring. After another half-hour Spike fetched the doctor from his Buffy-imposed exile in the waiting room and handed over a second bottle of the antivenin to inject her again. All the time they waited Buffy fretted and Spike did his best to reassure her, despite his own worries. Then, about twenty minutes after the second injection, Dawn's hand shifted slightly under Buffy's.

"Dawn? Dawnie? Are you okay?" Buffy whispered.

Dawn's free hand reached to remove the tape that once again held her eyelids closed. "Jeez, I wish you guys would quit with this stuff. I'm going to have no eyelashes left," she teased her sister as she pulled the tape from her eyes.

"How're you feelin', Bitlet?" Spike asked softly, his gaze fixed upon his pseudo-daughter's face.

"Kinda hung over... not of course that I would know hung over," she hastily covered. "Just that I feel like Xander looked when him and Anya broke up."

"Nice try." Her sister was too pleased to see her back to herself to make the strict voice stick. "We'll discuss your impending alcoholism when you get home. For now, I think, maybe the guy in the next bed wants a few words."

Dawn swivelled her head in the opposite direction and then winced as the movement sent a spearhead of pain to her temples.

"Would there be any chance that you all might leave us alone for five minutes?" Brandon looked hopefully at the adults in the two cubicles.

"Reckon we should go find a doctor. Let him know she's back in the land of the living. Maybe see if there's anywhere we can get a decent cup of coffee round here, but talk quick 'cause we kinda want some time with her ourselves." Buffy rose to her feet and stretched a hand to her fiancé as he made to follow his own suggestion.

As the adults cleared the room Dawn looked Brandon up and down. "You don't look too bad for a guy who was shot last night."

"I don't feel too bad either."

"Okay. What is it with you? I'm a bit confused here, and what with that and the humongous headache, I'm kinda cranky. Now, I guess I owe you an apology for thinking that you put that stuff in my drink, and I'm sorry for what I said, but if you've just been going out with me as some junior spy mission for daddy, then you better tell me now."

 




 

Spike turned to Brandon's father as they left the ER treatment area, having informed the doctor that she'd come round but insisting he await her sister's return before examining the patient. "I guess now might be a good time for that talk. What say we use Brandon's room, since he doesn't seem to have a use for it."

It actually took the three about a quarter of an hour to sort through the situation to their satisfaction, but Buffy just wanted to make sure she had everything straight.

"So your old army buddy asked you to take the job so that you could keep an eye open for anything unusual that the army might be up to in these parts, because he thought there was something fishy going on? And all you get in return is a glowing recommendation for department head when Sunnydale High re-opens next year?"

"Pretty much. But Jim's a friend. I did it because he asked."

"And you only knew about us because you reviewed the files on what happened two years ago."

"Files, video footage, whatever Jim could lay his hands on."

"So, you don't know anything about any surveillance?"

"Just what it said in the minutes of the meeting when The Initiative was supposedly being wound up, that it was thought they should keep tabs on you to ensure you wouldn't go public. I would have assumed that it would have lapsed long ago once it became apparent you had no such plans."

"We don't think so."

"I can see if there's anything Jim can do about that. Once they track down the people this Sam Finn was working with."

"Just one more thing. You say you had access to the files. Does that include the files on the prisoners? And what sort of video footage are we talking about?"

"The files are a bit hit and miss. A lot of the records were destroyed. There were quite a few fires that last day, but there were some inmate files." He gave a nod toward Spike. "Yours was an especially thick one. As far as video goes, it's just really surveillance camera footage of that last day. The video storage room was a write off. All the tapes of the day to day stuff were destroyed."

"We're going to need to see whatever you've got?" Buffy watched the former soldier carefully for any sign he would refuse her request, even if she had framed it as a statement.

"I'd have thought you would already know most of this. You were for a time part of the operation, and you were both there on the final day."

Spike knew why Buffy was asking and chose this moment to speak up. "Mr Michaels, some friends of ours lost a family member in that place. A little girl is growing up with no father. I don't think it's too much to expect for us to find out what we can about what actually happened to him."

"No, you're right. It isn't. You can have a look through anything I have, though I'm afraid I can't let you take copies and I'll have to be there."

"That's fair, I suppose," Buffy admitted. "And your guy's going to track down whoever authorised the train and whoever else was helping her and see to it that this demon hunting squad gets disbanded and the base is closed down again? Properly, this time?"

"I don't think you're going to need to worry about them resurfacing any time in the near future," the man confirmed.

"Alright, then. I don't doubt that we're going to have more to discuss, but for now, I think we both want to get back to Dawn."

 




 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow up a bit. Up until this morning, I didn't know that there was any connection between your lot and dad coming here. I knew that Uncle Jim had asked him to take the job as a favour to him, but I had no idea why.

I asked you out. okay, this is going to sound so hokey that you're probably going to dump me. The first time I saw you, just for a couple of seconds, it was like you glowed. Like you were this beautiful angel walking among us and I just knew."

"So, is there a history of mental illness in your family?" Dawn countered but not in the caustic tone that he expected.

"Look, I know how it sounds. This isn't some line that I'm feeding you to worm my way out of things, and normally, it would take ritual torture to get me to admit something like that-."

"I believe you. Just answer the question."

"Okay, no, to the best of my knowledge there is no family history of mental illness."

"What about second sight?"

"What? Why?"

"Just. Answer. The. Question."

"Well, yeah, actually. My grandfather, on ma's side's supposed to have a touch of the sight. But I don't see what that..."

"You will... soon, assuming you still want to keep seeing me, that is?"

"You think I'd let some other guy take you to that formal in that killer dress that you won't let me see?"

"I don't know. Getting shot at would put most guys off, never mind getting shot."

"Well, like your sister said, the Summers girls seem to go for the stubborn type."

The End

The story continues in Fumbling Towards Ecstasy , the fourth "book" in the series... Or if you wait a few days, once I've had a little break from the daily postings I'll start posting it here.