This lovely was created by the wonderful Mandi. Thank you so much.

Betas: The wonderful Megan and Angelic Amy. My grateful thanks to you both..

A/N: Thank you to all those who have read and reviewed. It is so appreciated.

Chapter 9

“How would you like to help me take the Initiative down, Spike?”

He thought he’d misheard her at first, but he knew there was nothing wrong with his hearing. Spike just stared back at the Slayer as he considered her words, noting the determination in her gold flecked eyes before he looked away from her distracting beauty. Snapshots of his time within the Initiative flew through his mind, focussing on the methods they’d used to suppress his demon until only this pale shadow of a vampire remained. He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, but that only served to paste the images onto the inside of his eyelids. Engrossed in his unpleasant memories, Spike failed to notice the Slayer had moved until a hand on his sleeve brought him back to earth. As he drew in an unneeded breath, pulling her scent into him, his traitorous body stirred into its normal response.

Buffy wished she’d waited until Tara returned with the food and Willow before laying this out for all of them at once. That was part of the problem though, wasn’t it? She’d become so accustomed to thinking, doing and saying – without reference to others for the most part – that with the perfidy of the Initiative foremost in her mind she hadn’t paused to think of the affect her words could have on Spike. Whilst she was only just catching up with the cruel and unusual methods that the Initiative had employed on its captives, Spike had lived through them, experiencing every abomination first hand.

There was more than a little irony to be had in the fact the vampire meant to make her life easier had proved to be a catalyst for pushing her out of her general malaise, shoving a purpose and reason to do more right under her nose, where even she could hardly fail to see it. Buffy didn’t fool herself that the journey ahead of them was going to be easy, or possible to win, but it was a fight that felt right and that was more than enough just now. Or it would be, if Spike didn’t look so torn up inside.

“That should have waited until the others arrive.” Hoping he caught the apology in her words, Buffy let her hand fall away as Spike looked down at her with an unreadable expression. ‘Jeez, what was I expecting? That he would dance for joy and leap at the chance to get some payback? Well, yeah, I think I was. Stupid Buffy. Gotta remember it’s not all about you.’

Spike was still deliberating on the bombshell the Slayer had thrown him. A couple of hours ago they had reached a strange place in their association together - strange for a vampire and a slayer, but oddly comfortable. It was almost impossible to credit the broken down and emotional woman of then was the same person as the composed and resolute Slayer before him. Perhaps not so impossible when he recalled the reason for her meltdown, and the material that littered her coffee table. As incredible as it seemed, she was all fired up because of the treatment he, and many other demons, had suffered at the hands of humans like her. ‘No, not like her at all, mate. There’s only one like her and she’s it. She’d have dusted me fair and square, given the chance. But the thought of this…never would have crossed her mind.’

So, where did that leave him? Owned by a bird who wanted to take on a powerful and politically well-backed – not to mention funded – organisation he could do nothing to hurt physically with the damned chip ensconced deeply in his brain. He’d buried his demon deep over recent years, having learnt clearly allowing it out only led to more agony than he could handle without breaking down like a babe; something that hurt him more than the pain. Spike had been contemplating a life with the Slayer which included plentiful amounts of food, a bed to rest in and a spot of much anticipated violence against the only creatures he could hurt, creatures like himself; monsters, demons and the demon-human hybrid…vampires. Now the chit had decided to raise her sights a mite higher and was asking him, actually asking him, if he wanted to help her.

He closed his eyes again, listening to the yearning of his demon for revenge, for glory or bust. It wanted nothing more than to align itself with the blonde slip of a girl before him. The thought of payback, however tenuous, was too welcome an opportunity to pass up, even if it meant the death of him…which it likely would. But the chance to be part of something that, even if unsuccessful, would dare to strike a blow back at those that had diminished him…that was too tempting to let pass.

Buffy watched the small grin appear on Spike’s lips as his eyes came back to life, a smile of her own already replying to him before he’d spoken a word. “Got a plan then, Slayer?”

***

Groaning, Giles opened his eyes and squinted against the bright glare of the fluorescent light overhead. Shutting his eyes again reflexively, he tried to find a reason for the mother of all headaches that had him in its grip. He didn’t remember hitting the scotch last night on his return from the Council. In fact, he didn’t remember anything beyond…

Forcing himself to brave the glare as it made its presence known, even through his eyelids, Giles turned his protesting head on the thin pillow it rested on and made himself look at his surroundings. Light reflected in agonising brightness off the white tiles that made up the walls of the room and the metal door which appeared to be the only opening. There wasn’t a window in painful sight.

“Bugger,” he managed before everything went blessedly dark again.

***

Tara gave Willow an encouraging smile before knocking on Buffy’s front door. Her lover had been alternatively delighted and painfully nervous at seeing Buffy after the long period of ambiguity on the status of their relationship. But she had been eager to see her once best friend, even gathering up her laptop and a notebook to take with her on this first trip to Revello Drive in years. At Tara’s questioning look she’d just smiled and given a small shake of her head, words not needed to let her soul mate know she’d explain everything later. And here they were, two large bags packed with Chinese tasty goodness and Willow’s heart beating twenty to the dozen as she wondered what her reception would be. She didn’t have to wait long to find out as Buffy opened the door.

Seeing Willow there on her porch brought a flood of memories back to Buffy, most of them good. It had been too long since she’d allowed herself to think anything but bad thoughts of the redhead, had positively wallowed in the misery and blame she’d heaped upon the first friend she’d made upon arriving on the Hellmouth. For once, Buffy let herself listen to the voice she’d ruthlessly quashed for a long time; she missed her friend and wanted something of their previous shared companionship back. Stepping forward she gave first Willow, then Tara, a quick hug before waving them into her home. Willow’s teary smile almost started Buffy off as well and it took a determined effort to stop herself from letting the evening spiral into a reunionfest; there were larger matters to be tackled first.

***

The vampire had finished arranging his recently acquired wardrobe into boxes that were now stowed tidily under his bed. A temporary arrangement until they could get some more furniture for him to use. A rueful smile pulled at his lips as he took the bag of toiletries into the small bathroom and began to arrange them neatly on the shelves and inside the mirrored cabinet that reflected nothing of himself. Spike was surprised at how peaceful he felt within himself now he had accepted the Slayer’s challenge. It was as if by giving him something to focus on, apart from his own misery and woe, had lightened the weight that had relentlessly borne him down since the night he’d been taken and chipped.

Spike knew that by nature he was a survivor and adapted to his environment quicker than most, looking for the best way to get by and using any and every advantage he was given. And if they weren’t given he’d make them, or take them, for himself. In the early days of his servitude to humans he’d been able to reconcile himself to his position enough to keep most punishments at bay; he’d accepted the status of bodyguard and enjoyed pitting his wit and strength against those demons who’d dare harm his charge. But every time he’d failed, and paid the penalty.

It was almost as if there’d been some sort of conspiracy against those he’d done his best to protect. Almost as if each successful attack had been orchestrated, planned and executed with more purpose than the demons responsible could lay claim to. Not that anyone had listened when he’d suggested such a thing. Why would they when they thought he was trying to deflect the penalty he’d earned?

Slayer scent tickled his nose and turned his thoughts to the woman who was making ready for the arrival of her friends upstairs. He could hear her movements as she wandered between the kitchen and dining room-cum-study, setting the table with plates, bowls and eating implements. Spike hadn’t expected to like her, the Slayer, as much as he did and he would consider the whys of it later. Was it just her unexpected and unforeseen kindness towards him, was it her physical beauty that had his cock in a state of arousal too often for him to count, or was it something else? He shrugged and adjusted himself within the confines of his new jeans. At least he could hide his body’s obvious response to her a lot easier now he’d been gifted with clothes that moulded his contours more closely.

Hearing the knock at the front door he quickly finished putting his washing gear away and waited for the Slayer to call him up for the meeting.

***

In a subterranean room, not too far from the Pentagon, the most powerful men in the world gathered about a large oblong table. The room was totally soundproofed and swept hourly for bugs and other audio or visual technology that could put their plans in jeopardy.

These were the movers and shakers of civilisation, the powers behind the thrones and governments of the world. They had manipulated and corrupted every country worth counting on the planet, but still there were men out there that resisted their ideals and vision. Good men, flawed men and outright criminals who refused to be brought to heel by any of the tried and trusted methods that had been used to persuade them of the errors of their ways.

Until the Initiative had begun its nefarious programme against the threat of demons, capturing and experimenting on those who preyed on humans – proven or not – they had been at an impasse on how to press their objectives forward. It was they who had taken over, covertly, on Maggie Walsh’s death. They’d shipped out every chipped specimen and taken them to a hastily arranged facility to be further tested and then trained. With the top public relations experts in the world already in their employ, it had been relatively simple to introduce the reality of vampires to the wealthy and influential who stood against them. They ran the Initiative but from a place too far removed for any investigation to reveal.

It had taken four years, four long years of meticulous planning and adjustment to bring them to the place where they were now. In less than three months they expected to be the acknowledged rulers of the world.

Tonight and tomorrow the first test runs would take place. If successful, nothing would be able to stop Operation Conquer, nothing at all.

***

The meal had been interesting. Not just the food but also the way the four of them had quickly settled into a semblance of normality. And just how normal was it for two Wiccans, a vampire and a slayer to sit in harmony around a table, snagging mouth-watering nourishment from waxed boxes and discussing ways to bring down a government run agency? Some might call it treason, but the wards set up by Tara and Willow at Buffy’s request ensured their words were not overheard.

There had been some awkwardness at first, especially when Spike had come face to face with Willow for the first time since he’d left her and idiot boy in the factory so long ago. But the discomfort had soon passed as the Slayer outlined her concerns about the Initiative, the way it had introduced vampires into society and the ways in which they were used. Spike had concentrated on some fine chilli beef when mention of vampire brothels was brought to the table, feeling the eyes of each of them rest on him momentarily before they remembered their manners.

Now, the woman he’d once threatened with a bottle, the one whose scent he now recognised as that which surrounded Glinda, was presenting some information of her own.

“Since Tara told me about it yesterday I’ve been doing a bit of nosing about. Just gathering information and having a bit of a poke into their files,” Willow offered hesitantly, still feeling her feet in this odd gathering. She flipped open her notebook and read out her findings so far. “We have twenty four chipped vampires resident in Sunnydale right now. That includes Spike.” She smiled a little nervously at the vampire currently washing down his latest bowl of food with warm blood. Before she could continue Buffy spoke up.

“That can’t be right. Hang on a minute, be right back.” Pushing up from her chair, Buffy went into the living room and quickly found the sheets she was looking for. Back in the dining room she started to read from one of them. “It says here that there are fifteen vampires in Sunnydale, including Spike. It was updated and printed off right in front of me at the police station. See,” she passed the page over to Willow, who quickly scanned the data, “it shows where each one of them lives and who is responsible for them. So either your information is out of date or…” Her voice trailed off as she considered other possibilities.

“Or someone isn’t telling the truth, Slayer,” Spike offered, gaining a smile and nod from Red.

“You’re right. Your list doesn’t have the workers at the vineyard on the outskirts of town. There are nine listed there as nocturnal grape pickers, pressers and tenders of the vine. And my information is taken straight from the Initiative’s records.” Willow couldn’t keep her sense of pride at her achievement from her voice. It had taken some very delicate delving to find a way into the well-guarded database, and she’d only had time to pull out a few facts so far; there was so much more there waiting to be discovered. Tara squeezed her hand under the table, sharing the pride she felt for her partner.

“Wow, you can do that?” Buffy was openly impressed. “Find anything else worth sharing?”

“Well…” Willow turned the page of her notebook and took a deep breath.

***

There was a spring in his step as Ethan made his way down the corridor to ‘his’ office this morning. He paused to charm his secretary and request a pot of Earl Grey before secluding himself in the room that was starting to give up all sorts of interesting facts. He couldn’t wait to begin on the archives. Yesterday he’d used the miniature camera supplied by his masters to take numerous snaps of pages from the tomes the Council guarded so closely, and refused to share.

The mage had amused himself by changing some very pertinent words with his magic before recording them. He wondered when they would find that squirting water at a Megloth demon caused it to multiply instead of killing it. That’s if they ever happened across one. He so hoped that they would.

His conversation with Angel had occupied his thoughts all night. Even now Ethan was pondering on the best way to use his new knowledge and understanding of the vampire’s desires. Unfortunately, they appeared to coincide closely with his own, but he was realistic enough to play the best hand he was dealt and had never been accused of being inflexible.

When Angel had offered to pay him double the amount spent to have his family member returned to his nurturing care, Ethan had smelt a rat. It didn’t take the copious notes held in the files, nor Giles’ own meticulous records in his watcher’s journal, for him to guess that the CEO of the Wolfram & Hart branch in LA had something other than a joyous reunion planned for his blood relative; blood relative in vampire terms, that is. The animosity and rivalry between the two very different vampires was well documented, and the apparently sincere argument for possession that Angel had presented had kept Ethan from disclosing his own interest in Seventeen.

Ethan’s non-committal but open responses had encouraged Angel to add in the carrot of a fully-trained and tested replacement to offer Buffy, to ensure she was in no way denied the services which she desired. All because of the vampire’s high regard and continued esteem for the Chosen One. Ethan had chewed on his lower lip at that point to prevent the guffaw from escaping and spoiling the unlooked for entertainment.

He’d abandoned completely his plan to have Seventeen transported to the land of his birth, both times, and had tentatively suggested that, as Buffy’s watcher and with only her best interests at heart, perhaps Angel should approach her directly to sound out her feelings on the matter. His assurances that he would abide with his Slayer’s decision were made without a shred of honesty attached to them. Whatever else he did, Ethan had no intention of letting the pompous prat get his mitts on his grandchilde.

Angel’s agreement barely concealed his triumph at getting, as he believed, Giles’ blessing on his proposal. Ethan heard the undertone of arrogant confidence in Angel’s voice, his certainty in being able to pry Spike away from Buffy and into his own custody. It was totally irrelevant what Buffy decided; Ethan was the one with the title of ownership. He wondered idly what Buffy thought of that and surmised she must be content with the arrangement. What she thought about Angel interfering in her life he was eager to find out. There was little doubt in Ethan’s mind the little bird would soon be calling with a bee in her bonnet.

Sometimes life could be so deliciously sweet.

***

Spike was clearing the empty cartons and putting them in the trash whilst the Slayer was outside saying her farewells to the two Wiccans. As soon as she returned they would be going for a stroll around the cemeteries so he could get reacquainted with the area. He was looking forward to some time outside and a chance to process the information from the meeting.

When the phone rang he wondered if he should go and fetch the Slayer, but shrugged and carried on clearing away the empty dishes and putting unfinished cartons of food next to the microwave for a snack later in the evening. On about the tenth ring the answering machine kicked in.

“Hi, Buffy, if you’re there can you pick up? It’s Angel.”

An almost full carton of char sui dropped from Spike’s suddenly lifeless hand and spilt its contents over the kitchen floor.

“Okay, you must be on patrol. It’s about Spike. I’m coming to Sunnydale tomorrow and there’s something I’d like to discuss with you. So I’ll be there about seven if that’s alright with you. Maybe I can take you to dinner; I’d like our talk to be private. Call me back if that’s not convenient for you.” Pause. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, Buffy. I’ve missed you. Bye for now.”

The frozen vampire watched the red message light flash; Angel’s loathed voice reverberating in the silent room. As chill dread filled him, Spike acted on instinct and did the only thing that made sense to him.

***

A/N: Hope this entertained. Reviews are the only way to let me know. May be a later update next week due to a pilgrimage of sorts.