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Dark Night of the Soul by pfeifferpack
 
Chapter 24
 
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Chapter 24
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“This here’s the girly pit.”  The open, freckled face of the young soldier seemed at odds with the lewd leer currently on it.  “Couple of ‘em could pass for human easy.  Think there’s even some that are.”  The lad was practically salivating.  “You’re one lucky grunt!  Took me months to pull this duty with all the added bennies,” he chuckled and adjusted his crotch.  “Yeah, when the cats away…you know what I mean?”  He cast a lustful look at the frightened, huddled females who all looked terribly vulnerable, no matter how fierce their demon countenance.
 
“Thought you were a good Christian boy, Reese.  I’d think the ladies would be total hands-off,” Gunn struggled to keep his expression neutral and not reveal his revulsion at what the tow headed private was so obviously implying went on here.
 
“Seems like there’s a couple of loopholes,” the boy giggled at the word ‘holes’ like a twelve year old.  “Firstly, they ain’t human.  Kinda like one of them blow-up dolls or your right hand on a Saturday night if ya get my drift,” he winked.   “Number two,” Again the immature giggle, “the bitches ARE demons.  Them’s from the Devil himself, so if I do fall to temptation, well, I’m only human.  Overcome by the Serpent, like back in Eden.”
 
“Yeah, just like Eden,” Gun mumbled.   “Sure the ladies feel like they’re in Paradise.”
 
“They might not, but I sure do,” Reese nudged Charles with a friendly elbow to the ribs.  “Tell you what, after your duty, you get the pick of the litter.”  His look turned serious for a moment.  “Maybe you want to avoid the five humans.  The red headed bitch put Jackson in the hospital with a broken collar bone and sent his balls damn near back in his gut.”  He tossed a hostile look in the direction of a short redheaded clearly human girl who gave him the look right back.  “They’re little but wicked strong!”
 
“I’ll keep that in mind.”  Charles gave a sympathetic look at the females grouped together as if for mutual protection.  He noticed more than a few holding on to children, some still infants.  So far everything Gunn had seen in this house of horrors made his skin crawl.  Demons--some he had recognized as harmless--cut up, beaten, missing parts.  Even the fiercest were looking traumatized.  Only the newer arrivals looked to have some fight left in them.  Charles would have bet all his pay that some of the prettier males were getting the same extra attention from some of the bigger assholes running this place as the females were.  ‘Damn!  Even with the kids in here…maybe even some of them,’ he shuddered.
 
“K then, I’ll leave ya to it,” Reese winked again and whistled a jaunty tune as he headed to the caged officers area at the front of the cell block.
 
Charles hoped he’d find the Slayer and vampire quickly, because he couldn’t wait to get out of this place.  He doubted there was enough soap in the world to ever feel clean again after what he’d witnessed and he’d barely been here a week.
 
‘Folks ougta know what’s really happening in here.  Doubt they’d be so gung-ho about it all if they had a clue.’  A germ of an idea hit him.  ‘Wonder if the former Watcher could get his hands on one of those tiny cameras some cops are starting to wear?’
 
***
Spike awkwardly put a reassuring arm around Buffy’s shoulder as she shivered with the aftereffects of her ‘scans’.  Somewhat to his surprise, she didn’t pull away or give him one of the killer looks he once earned for taking far fewer liberties then this.  “Wish I could make all this just go away for you, pet.   You’re a bloody hero!  Every one of these wankers owes their lives to you,” he gave the back of the soldier standing outside their cell the two-fingered salute and a look of pure disdain.  “Not worth one bruise on your pretty skin.”
 
Buffy smiled wanly, “You’ve saved their bacon a time or two yourself, with less reason to bother.”
 
“Kinda lost my mind when I fell for a certain Slayer, what can I say?”  He gave her a throaty chuckle that did something interesting to her insides.
 
“Better than my usual trick of making a guy lose his soul.”  Buffy glanced up at the sound of the cell door opening and frowned as Riley entered, “or his humanity.”
 
Spike didn’t give Cardboard so much as a peek.  “Dru did the honors with both, love. Guess the mind was all I had left.”
 
“You still have your heart,” Buffy put her hand gently over the unbeating organ in question, “and it’s a big one.”  She smiled and would have ventured a joke had Riley not been in the cell glowering at them.
 
Spike smiled, “Nope, you’ve got that too, want it or not,” he hugged her even closer and nuzzled her neck.  ‘Take that, you overgrown Boy Scout.’
 
“Didn’t catch the whole conversation, but you’re about to lose those hands, bloodsucker, unless you let go of Buffy right now,” Riley sneered.
 
Spike didn’t budge, didn’t even acknowledge Finn’s presence.
 
Riley roughly pulled Spike away from Buffy flinging him across the cell towards the open door.  “Take this walking corpse to the treatment room.  Need to teach him what happens to oversized mosquitoes that touch what isn’t theirs.”
 
Spike gritted his teeth and glared at his tormentor.  “Not yours either.”  The two soldiers under Finn’s command hauled Spike upright and manhandled him to the doorway.  “I’m the one grew up with Good Queen Vicky, but even I know that women aren’t property…least of all the Slayer.”
 
“Leave him alone, Riley!” Buffy was heartily sick of the testosterone factory that once had been her boyfriend.  “Spike was only being kind.  HE seems to know how to treat a woman.”
 
“That’s the point, Buff,” Riley curled his lip cruelly.  “Doc’s finally figured out you’re not normal at all.  Female, yeah, I can attest to that, but human?  Maybe not so much.”
 
***
 
Andrew thanked Mrs. Mears for the juice box and headed down the basement stairs to Warren’s lair.
 
Warren didn’t even turn away from his computer screen as he greeted his longtime lackey.  “How they hangin', my young Padawan? They did drop finally, didn’t they?”  He chuckled at his own joke.
 
Andrew was far too used to the verbal abuse to even notice it.  “Kinda bored.  I went by the arcade, but it’s closed up.  Nobody took it over after we liberated it from the Glaxonbeaste demon, “Andrew sighed unhappily.   “I was close to getting top score on Gauntlet Dark Legacy too, the one in the back corner.”  He sighed wistfully.
 
“Maybe we can see about setting ourselves up as Arcade Kings.  All that hardware’s just sittin’ there collecting dust.  I could handle being a business mogul.”  He smacked Andrew on the shoulder, “Give you something to do when you aren’t on a snack run for the troops.  Whadda you say, seventy-thirty?”
 
“Fifty-fifty,” Andrew grumbled.  “I’m the one going to be doing all the work.  Besides, I like to play the games, not make change, break up fights and clean bathrooms.”  He made a disgusted face.  “They smell funny.  Like mouthwash on a pine tree.”
 
“Sixty-forty, take it or leave it.”  Warren spun around in his chair and raised his eyebrow, expecting a quick agreement to his offer.
 
Andrew sat in the chair next to Warren, “I’ll think about it.” He didn’t notice Warren’s frown.  “I always saw my future as more Spielberg than Gates.”
 
Warren was displeased.  His minion was acting disturbingly like someone entertaining their own thoughts!  Better remind him of his proper place in the grand scheme of things.  “Dream on, monkey boy.  “You MIGHT put something together to show on Public Access, but I think the studios are safe from that special Wells lack of charisma,” he laughed at the offended look on the younger boy’s face.
 
Warren had never respected Andrew’s big dreams and creative efforts, even when they were kids and Andrew’s dreams had been more about going to Disney than being Disney.  Usually Andrew accepted Warren’s put-downs as if they were his due, but lately he found his old friend to be…lacking.
 
“Watcha doin’?”  Andrew leaned forward and looked at the screen that had commanded all of Warren’s attention when he had first arrived.  “Hey, that’s the Party Box!”
 
“No shit, Sherlock!  Great powers of deduction there.   CIA’s got nothin’ on you.  What gave it away, the cheap crap on the tables or the blonde bimbo behind the counter?”
 
“Anya’s hair is more red than blonde right now,” Andrew corrected him.  “She’s always on top of the latest trends.  In fact, she’s often ahead of the curve.  Chunking is going to be the next big thing.”  Andrew looked closely at the girl on the screen, “I think there’s some brown in there too.  You can’t tell too well on your screen; the color’s kinda faded.  You should adjust your contrast.”  He made a move to the mouse to make the adjustment only to have Warren slap his hand hard.
 
“Owie!  That hurt!  Why do you always have to be such a poop head?” Andrew pouted.
 
“You’re such a big baby…what you gonna do?  Throw your dirty diapers at me?”  Warren laughed in his face.
 
“No,” Andrew sputtered indignantly.  He looked back at the computer screen and got an idea.  “I’ll tell Anya you’re spying on her.  Probably hoping to make sick porn vids you have to hide from your mother.”
 
Warren glared daggers at Andrew and the younger man gulped in alarm.  “You keep your yap shut.  No joke Jar Jar, you open your mouth and you’ll be back on Naboo faster than if you had a real TIE fighter.  You say one word to the bitch and I’ll splice you like a linked list!”
 
Andrew had never seen Warren so angry.  “Whoa!  No need to go nuclear.  If you want to go all Inspector Gadget on the lovely and stylish shopkeeper it’s no skin off my elbow.”  Andrew backed away, scooting his chair a fair distance from his fuming former mentor.
 
Warren glared at him in silence long enough to put the fear of Ra into him.  “I happen to be doing my civic duty.  Chick’s not normal.  I intend to get proof and take it to the boys at Humans Only.  She’ll wish she’d been nicer to a guy just offering her a good time then!  Be begging for me to do something for her.”
 
Andrew looked at Warren in horror.  “You’re getting even with the fair shopkeeper because she turned you down?”
 
“Bitch thinks she’s too good for me,” Warren spat.  “Filthy demon should get so lucky!  I’ll prove it too.”
 
Andrew blinked.  “Why?  You’ve got more women than James Bond ever since you started the movement.  Why do you want Anya too?
 
“I don’t want her.  She’s demon scum, I know it.  I need to make a statement.  Let her know how to treat her betters.”
 
Andrew shook his head.  Power had gone right to Warren’s head like…like…like something powerful and whatever.  “I won’t say anything,” he promised.
 
“Better not, and I mean it,” Warren resumed watching the screen.  “Sooner or later, I’ll get the proof I need and you aren’t going to mess it up for me.”
 
“Yeah, well, I gotta go.  Tucker wants me to detail his car and I really don’t want him shrinking my BVDs again like the last time I didn’t do it.”
 
“Go on and do your minion things, Andrew, and keep your mouth zipped.”
 
Andrew had promised not to say anything.  Now he had to figure out how to give Anya a clue about what was going on without breaking his word or getting caught.  She had been one of the few people in Sunnydale to be nice to him and Andrew was sick of having everyone who was just disappear or die.
 
***
 
When Spike was returned to their cell about an hour later, it was Buffy’s turn to offer comfort.
 
“Let’s straighten those fingers and figure out a way to splint them, ‘k?”  Buffy looked around the Spartan room for anything that might offer a rigid frame for fractured fingers.  She finally gave up and decided to use the torn leg of her scrubs to make a wrap thick enough to keep Spike’s digits immobile enough to heal properly when and if his vampire healing could kick in. With as little as they’d been feeding him, it might take almost as long as it would take for a human.
 
“Your ex is as handy with a hammer as Harris,” Spike grimaced as she tied off the third bandage.  “He’d be the dog’s bollocks puttin’ up drywall.”
 
“I’d call him a different animal.”  Spike let out a small giggle.  “I’ll have Xan recommend him to his asshole of a boss. They’ll get along great, and ass and an asshole,” She grinned.  “See, yet another reason for us to stop putting it off and getting out of here.  Someone’s gotta make sure Riley lives up to his full potential career-wise.”
 
The guard looked into the cell and shrugged.  He’d be damned if he could figure out what those two had to laugh about!  Oh, well, time to punch out and maybe see if Reese and Barnes were up for some slap and tickle of the red-eyed variety.  He’d enjoyed his last ‘date’ with the petite Chin-Raj demoness in spite of her tail.  Actually he’d found a very interesting use for that tail!
 
***
 
“Say, you seen Reese?” he asked the new guy…Corporal Dee--yeah, that was it. 
 
Gunn looked at the newcomer and shrugged.  “No clue.  Dude was supposed to be in the cage, but he pulled a ghost about fifteen minutes ago.”
 
“Damn!  I was hoping…,” the guard with the nametag identifying him as Federwitz left the sentence open-ended.  Most of the guys pulling duty in the G block were cool with fellas letting off a bit of steam, but this was a new guy and Federwitz wasn’t about to make assumptions.  He sighed in disappointment, “Guess I’ll catch him on the other side.”
 
“I’ll tell him you were looking for him,” Gunn promised affably.  “Anything special you want me to pass on?”
 
“Nah.  Just passing the time, sharing the chortles.  My C.O. went caveman again and hammered out his pet vamp’s fingers.  For some reason, the bloodsucker and his Slayer girlfriend found it funny. “He shook his head in amazement.  “Reese always loves the 411 on what happens in my little wing of this zoo.”
 
Gunn couldn’t think of any other vampire but Spike who might be housed with a Slayer and finding the situation worthy of a laugh, except for his old boss Angel and that vampire was close to a thousand miles north of there.  ‘Has to be Spike.  Sounds like he’s locked up with Buffy!   Huh.  Well, that’ll make my life easier,’ Charles grinned in genuine pleasure.  “Sounds like you’ve got plenty of tales to tell.”
 
“Tails?” Federwitz had a flash of panic.  Nah, no way Reese shared that bit of personal info with the new guy. 
 
“Yeah, war stories.  I’ve been in the field, capture or kill.  This is my first time at a lock-down.”
 
“Yeah, yeah, tons of stories.  New one every day around here,” Federwitz smiled.  Maybe the new guy was going to be okay after all.   
 
“So this vamp’s roomin' with a Slayer?  How’s that workin’ out for him?”
 
“Better than you’d think, considering her title and all.  I think they were pals on the outside.  Weird with a beard, if you ask me.”
 
“Guess so,” Gunn nodded.  “No accountin’ for taste, I guess.   Say, what block are you on?  I might just have to drop by and sneak a peek.”
 
“We’re over in H.  Finn’s fiefdom, we call it--not to his face, of course.”  Federwitz always did enjoy being in the know.  “That’s Riley Finn. He’s one tough hombre.  Don’t go crossin’ him or you’ll be out on your keester before you can say ‘sorry, sir’.  No sense of humor either.  Gets most of his jollies yanking that vamp’s chain.  I’d say they weren’t pals on the outside if I had to guess.  Decent enough to his men though.  I’ve got no complaints.”
 
“Think I’ve heard of him.  One of the old guard, wasn’t he?”
 
Federwitz nodded, “Yup.  Favorite of Maggie Walsh herself, called him her son.  Really shot up through the ranks while assigned to the First Initiative.  Got a lot of field time under his belt, yes, sir.”
 
“Sounds formidable,” Charles tried to look impressed.  “Take someone like me years to move up the way things are now.  Lots of recruits and too much competition.”  Gunn gave a half grin, “Course, I’ve been known to be a bit of a badass myself.”
 
 “Plenty of room at the top for the right kind of fella,” Federwitz agreed. “Welcome to ‘Human Initiative Laboratory and Detainment ‘A’ Facility’, or as we grunts like to call it, the Thunderdome.
 
“Please tell me the reason for the name is because the head of this fine establishment is a sexy mama like Tina Turner.  I’ll be more than happy to re-up when this tour is over,” he laughed.  “Provided, of course, that I’m not stuck guarding a bunch of scaly-assed female demons with talons and serious overbites the whole time.”
 
“There are worse fates, my new friend,” Federwitz laughed.   Maybe he should show the new guy the ropes.  Well, not literal ropes, the hellcats could get out of them too easily.  Plenty of manacles and chains to go around though.
 
***
 
“Ah, Jonathan, my old friend and comrade,” Andrew shuffled up to him in the line at the theater box office.  “I see you too are among the first to see how the great Spielberg makes A.I. come to life?”
 
“Yeah, not too sure about Haley Joel Osment carrying the film, but Jude Law is always great, and, hey, Spielberg,” he shrugged, indicating it was a given the film would be a classic.
 
“Haven’t seen you around much,” Andrew looked around suspiciously, hoping none of the Youth for Humans guys were here at the early showing to report back to Warren about Andrew talking to the traitor.  “Been keeping busy?”
 
“Plenty to do.  I’ve been working at the Synagogue--you know, cleaning up and stuff.  Things get a little wild after a Bar Mitzvah; you’d be surprised.”  Jonathan fished in his wallet to pay for his ticket.  Once, not that long ago, he would have offered to pay Andrew’s way in too, since he did get a paycheck, but they weren’t the same kind of friends any longer.  Too much blood under the bridge.
 
“Yeah, Warren’s thinking about buying the old arcade and having me run it,” Andrew shared.  “I don’t think I want to work for Warren though, even if I could play all the games for free after closing time.”
 
Jonathan waited as Andrew got his ticket and they walked companionably to the concession stand.  Maybe he’d split a tub of popcorn for old time’s sake.  Andrew could really be a lot of fun, even if he couldn’t be trusted at the moment.
 
“Hey, I was wondering if you ever drop in at the Party Box,” Andrew fished for information.  “I know you used to buy a lot of your magic supplies there.  Didn’t you get your magic bone from Anya on special order?”
 
“Shhhhhhhhh, are you nuts?” Jonathan looked around in panic.  No one seemed to have heard Andrew speak the M word though.  “You know I don’t do that stuff anymore.  It’s illegal and it’s…it’s…wrong.”
 
“Mum’s the word.  Hey, that starts with an M too,” Andrew grinned, overly pleased at the coincidence.  “It’s like synchronicity or something.  Yeah, your mum bone!”
 
Jonathan still looked nervous as a cat with six tails in a room full of rockers and not the musical kind either.
 
“Anyway, I was wondering if you might deliver a note to the proprietress if I gave it to you,” Andrew whispered.  “It’s a personal matter.”
 
Jonathan looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.  “She’s engaged, you know, and you’re really not her type.”  Xander Harris was a bit of a nerd too, but he at least had muscles and wasn’t a virgin.
 
“Not personal personal, just personal as in private,” Andrew blushed.  “You know I’m saving myself for Jeri Ryan, especially if she’s in costume as Seven of Nine.”  He trailed off with a blissful look on his face for a moment.  “Or maybe Robert Beltran,” he whispered, then blushed even more brightly and shut his mouth quickly.  “As a friend, you know, just friends.  Who wouldn’t want to be friends with Lt. Commander Chakotay, right?”
 
Jonathan shook his head.  He wasn’t about to weigh in on Andrew’s murky issues regarding sexual orientation, especially since he was fairly sure Andrew hadn’t even played with his compass yet.  “So the note?” he prompted.
 
“Yeah. It’s just that Anya’s always been nice to me and I might know something she might want to know, but no one can know that I know or that because of me she knows…you know?”
 
“Not really,” Jonathan looked bemused.  “Why do I get the feeling this has something to do with the Fuehrer of Sunnydale?  Please tell me that Warren isn’t thinking there’s still a place selling magic stuff.”
 
“No, nothing to do with magic, but you’re partly right.  I swore a sacred blood oath not to speak of it,” Andrew’s eyes darted about nervously.
 
“Really?  He’s still making you do that crap?”
 
“Not really, but he did make me swear on pain of…well, pain.”
 
Jonathan sighed.  He really hoped this wasn’t some kind of weird Machiavellian plan of Warren’s that he was using Andrew to pull off.  Anya wasn’t a close friend, but they were friendly enough and she was working with the resistance movement.  He didn’t want to put her in any danger.  “Look, I’ll give her a note if you want me to, but you’d better not be planning on hurting her in any way.  She’s really nice and one of the few girls who will talk to me for more than five minutes.  I WILL make you take a blood oath,” he promised.
 
“Okay, so long as she…well, no one ever finds out I’m the one who wrote it.   Especially not Warren.”  Andrew shivered, “He’d go full Vader on me.”
 
“Deal.  Now let’s get the popcorn and check out the flick.  You can write your love notes later.”
 
“I already did,” Andrew said as he slipped a folded piece of notebook paper that had enough tape on it to stymie Houdini.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  He’d done his duty and the rest was up to Anya.
 
 Jonathan carefully put the note in his wallet as he paid for the snack.  He’d wait to give it to her until they ran into each other at the next meeting.  No way was he going to go within ten feet of the Party Box if Warren Mears was involved in whatever this note business was.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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