Chapter Seven

“And you say he looked something like this?”

Buffy looked up to see Giles holding a sketchpad out to her. On it he'd drawn what looked to her a bit like G.I. Joe in a balaclava. She nodded. “Pretty much. We saw these guys on Halloween but I just assumed they were in costume.”

“What do you think they're up to?” Giles asked.

Buffy frowned and shook her head. “I don't know. But I intend to find out.”

A loud knock sounded at the door and Buffy stood to answer it. At first she didn't see anybody and took a step forward. Suddenly Spike lurched out at her from the meagre shade offered by the entryway. “Buffy,” he rasped.

Surprised, Buffy automatically pushed him away. “Spike, what are you doing here?” she asked curtly. It had been three weeks since she'd seen him and she was still smarting over the way he'd left without a word.

“Looking for you,” he gasped. He was smoking lightly, huddled beneath an old threadbare blanket. His eyes were sunken, his skin even paler than usual. “I need your help.”

“What's wrong, someone kick your arse on the way back into town?”

A confused expression crossed his features. “Back into...? No. I was captured. There were these soldiers...”

Just then Giles appeared behind Buffy. “Soldiers you say?”

“Yeah.” Spike glared at the Watcher before turning back to Buffy. “We need to talk.”

Buffy avoided his gaze. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Just a moment Buffy,” Giles reasoned. “If he can give us information about the soldiers he could be useful.”

Spike saw his chance and grabbed it. “Oh yeah, I've got plenty of information.”

Buffy turned around. “Giles, he's evil. They probably just came across him eating someone and he ran away.”

“No. Better than that,” Spike countered. “I've been inside their labs. They put some sort of chip in my brain. Now I can't bite anyone. Can't even hit people.”

Sighing loudly Buffy relented. Turning to Giles she said, “Fine. But if he kills us all just remember that I told you so.”

Quickly retrieving his crossbow Giles pointed it at Spike before speaking. “Come in Spike.”

Relieved, Spike slowly made his way into the apartment. Buffy asked Giles to get some rope as she dragged a chair out from behind his writing desk.

“Sit,” she demanded, glaring at Spike.

Spike shrugged out of the old blanket, wincing in pain, and then flopped down into the chair. Closing his eyes he finally allowed his body to relax. He knew better than to trust Buffy or her Watcher completely, but he also knew they wouldn't kill him without fair warning.

Accepting the rope from Giles, Buffy knelt in front of Spike, ready to tie him to the chair. She gasped as she took in the burn marks on his face and arms. He looked like he'd been tortured. She recognised the light charring from the sun, the rivulets of red caused by the pouring of holy water onto his skin. Seeing the way he clutched one hand over his chest she pulled it away and lifted his t-shirt. Her stomach turned at the sight. The barely closed hole that she knew led straight to his heart was still weeping blood. She'd have only to drop a splinter of wood into it and he would crumble into dust right before her eyes.

Suddenly forgetting the ropes Buffy rose from the floor, anger clear on her face. “Giles, we're gonna need blood. Lots of it.”

Casting his eyes over Spike’s wounds Giles nodded. “I'll be back as soon as I can,” he said as he headed for the door. “You'll be alright here alone?”

Buffy nodded. “I'll be fine. Don't really think he's up for a fight.”

“Yes, of course.”

The moment Giles left Buffy rushed to get a bowl of water and a towel. Placing them on the coffee table she helped Spike to the couch. Carefully she removed his shirt, grimacing when the jostling caused his wound to bleed more.

“Just lie back and stay still,” she murmured, dunking the towel into the water and wringing it out.

As she began to clean away the worst of the blood on his chest she glanced up to find him smirking at her. “What?” she asked irritably.

“I knew you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me Slayer.”

“In your dreams Spike.”

“There too.” He smiled as he leered at her, his eyes roaming over her body.

Feeling her heartbeat quicken under his heated gaze Buffy quickly changed the subject. “How long did they have you?”

Spike frowned as he thought about it for a moment. “Don't rightly know. It was the day after you and I...” He trailed off when her eyes darted up in surprise. “They attacked me in my crypt a few hours after you left the next morning. Must have been a full dozen of them.”

She frowned in confusion. “They attacked you in your crypt?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you didn't leave town?”

“Why would I leave?” Suddenly he understood her attitude toward him since he showed up at the door. “No Buffy, I didn't leave. You think after what happened between us that I'd just take off?”

“But your crypt was empty. Everything was gone. You just disappeared without a trace. I thought...”

Spike reached out to cup her cheek in his hand, holding her gaze steadily. “You thought wrong.”

Confused at the feelings of happiness that suddenly washed over her, Buffy went back to cleaning his wound. Watching the play of emotions on her face with interest, Spike slid his hand up her thigh to rest it comfortably on her hip. He felt her quiver slightly, heard the blood rushing through her veins and couldn't help but smile. “So how long has it been?” he asked quietly.

“About three weeks.”

Three weeks, Spike thought in amazement. It felt more like three years.

Absently stroking her hip, he approached a new topic cautiously. “How's Riley?”

Her hands stilled suddenly and she dropped the towel back into the bowl of water before answering. “I wouldn't know. We broke up.”

“You did?” he asked in surprise. “When?”

Knowing there was no way she could say this without stroking his ego she rolled her eyes. “A few weeks ago.”

A knowing grin spread cockily across his face. “Three weeks ago?”

She refused to look at him. “Something like that.”

Suddenly understanding dawned in his eyes and the grin disappeared. “Did you tell him anything...about us?”

“No, of course not,” she replied indignantly. “But then he saw your duster in my room and came to his own conclusions.”

Furious, Spike sprang up from the couch, heedless of the pain that radiated through his battered body. “That bastard. That's why he hates me so much. He was just bloody jealous. No wonder they emptied my crypt. He wanted you to think I'd taken off.”

Frowning at his outburst Buffy demanded, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Turning to face her he declared, “Buffy. Riley is one of the soldiers. When I was captured that day, he's the one that led the attack!”