“Wow,” Buffy murmured contentedly, a lazy smile on her face as she looked up into the eyes of her lover, reaching up a hand to play through his hair. “That was just…wow…” She paused before adding in a soft appreciative murmur, “You are so absolutely incredible.”

Spike was still back on “wow”. “Yeah,” he replied quietly, still lost in her eyes. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he realized what she had said, and he dropped his gaze for a moment, embarrassed. “I – I mean,” he stumbled over the words as he tried to correct them. “I – didn’t mean to say…”

“Spike,” she interrupted him softly, patiently, still smiling up at him reassuringly. “It’s okay to say it. I know that’s not what you meant, but you *are* incredible…amazing… and if I have to make you say it once a day, every day, for the next fifty years…I’m gonna make you believe it.”

The tender passion, the simple honesty in her eyes and her voice took his breath again, and he felt his throat choke up a bit, not with the sorrow and pain of the past that had made tears so familiar to him, but with a sweet joy that had become so foreign that it was like a brand new experience for him – and he wanted to savor every moment of it.

Painful memory taught him that something this beautiful was sure to disappear before long – and so he found himself studying every feature of her face, as if to commit it to memory forever.

This moment went beyond all words. It was almost difficult to even believe that it was really real. It was such a sharp contrast to everything that his life had been for the past few years, that a part of him was afraid that he was going to suddenly wake to find that the past few hours had been nothing but a happy dream.

“You know,” she whispered, her smile softening. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He marveled at her growing ability to seemingly read his mind, sensing his thoughts and insecurities before he spoke them – even the ones he would never have spoken at all. “I know,” he said softly, knowing that the accuracy of her aim with the words was clear in his voice.

“I love you,” she whispered again before she pulled him back down for another kiss, and he returned it urgently, claiming the reassurance she offered him so freely. Oh, yes…this was real. No doubt about it. His beautiful fantasies had come to life in breathtaking reality.

The moment was broken suddenly by a soft but insistent knock on the bedroom door. Buffy gave the door an anguished look, before looking back up at Spike, her lower lip jutting out in a pout of annoyance. “I want them to go away,” she whispered, very childishly, she had to admit.

“Maybe if we’re really quiet,” he suggested in a very serious whisper, unable to suppress the slight twitch of a smile about his lips, “they’ll think we’re asleep and they will.”

She couldn’t help it; she giggled at the wide-eyed, mock seriousness of his expression and his voice. *God, he’s adorable!* she thought with a rush of affection, very pleased that he was becoming comfortable enough to do things like joking around with her, and taking the lead sexually as he had just done.

And, boy, had *that* ever been nice!

“Buffy!” Tara’s anxious voice on the other side of the door tore her reluctantly from her thoughts. “Buffy, you need to get up! Please hurry!”

“Now see what you’ve done?” he teased her matter-of-factly in a mildly sarcastic tone, just before he registered the urgent sound in Tara’s voice.

Buffy had already noticed it, and was frowning toward the door in concern. This sounded serious. “Just a second, Tara. I just need to, um…” *Find my clothes?...Make myself not-naked?* “Um…I just need a second…”

Spike moved off of her and they both quickly rose from the bed. He slipped back into the pair of sweatpants they had discarded at the foot of the bed, while she pulled a set of the pajamas, she had skipped entirely earlier out of a dresser drawer, much more concerned with coverage now than she had been earlier. Judging by the tone of her voice, it sounded like whatever had driven Tara to “wake” them was rather important.

In fact, judging by the tone of her voice, Buffy thought that she might have to actually get dressed before all was said and done. She frowned. That was not a happy thought.

Finally, Buffy went to the door and opened it, trying very hard to look innocent and like someone who had not spent the past hour being shagged senseless. “What’s up, Tara?” she asked with a frown of concern that she did not really feel.

Not yet.

The look in Tara’s eyes was enough to drag the Slayer unwillingly back to reality. And her words were worse.

“Anya’s missing,” the blonde witch informed her without a moment’s pause, her soft grey eyes wide and worried.

“What?” Buffy’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, she’s ‘missing’?” she asked, a little more sharply than she had intended to.

“She’s missing. She said she was going out on the porch for some air. Xander went looking for her, and she wasn’t out there. And she’s not in the house. Buffy – she’s gone.” Tara’s eyes were troubled and fearful, and her voice was trembling. “Buffy, what if they found her?”

Buffy’s mind was racing. “You’re sure she didn’t just…go for a walk or something? You’re positive that she’s really *missing*?”

Tara nodded soberly. “We’d already talked about how this house was the safe place, and she and Xander needed to stay here. You know how paranoid she’s always been about her ex-demon status, especially since all this mess started. I don’t think she would have gone anywhere alone, and without telling anyone – especially not this late.”

The sick feeling in the pit of Buffy’s stomach told her what she already knew. Tara was right. Anya had not simply gone somewhere of her own free will. The only other alternative was that – she had been taken.

“Okay,” Buffy said quietly. “Give us five minutes. We’re gonna get dressed and be right downstairs and figure out what to do. Try to keep things together downstairs, okay?”

Tara nodded silently and headed back down the stairs, as Buffy closed the door behind her, her eyes wide and worried as they focused on the wood grain of the door, thinking hard.

Spike stepped up beside Buffy, a thoughtful frown on his face as he met her eyes. “Riley knows about that…doesn’t he? Anya’s history?”

Buffy nodded slowly, realization dawning on her. “Yes,” she whispered, a stricken look on her face. “But he knows she’s human now.” She shook her head, her eyes narrowing in rising anger and indignation. “He could care less about Anya, he knows very well she’s human! He’s using her as bait! He *wants* me!” She glanced at Spike, her eyes softening with concern as she amended, “Us.”

“Then…then let’s give him what he wants, pet,” Spike said in a quietly decisive voice, taking her arm and turning her to face him. “Let’s go straight down there and show him just what we’re capable of. Let’s get her back.”

“Spike,” she shook her head slowly. “We’re going to get her back…but we don’t even know where she is yet!” She paused. “And you are *not* going in there with me! It’s too dangerous. The chances of Riley’s having vampire guards in the training center, or anywhere else that he’s keeping demons prisoner, are next to nothing, Honey. And I am *not* putting you in a dangerous position where you can’t even defend yourself!”

“No,” he said firmly, meeting her gaze without backing down. “You’re not. Because it’s not your place to *put* me in any position. It’s mine.”

When she blinked, surprised – but pleased – at his assertion, he lowered his gaze for a moment, adding in a tentative voice, a bit smaller, “Right?”

Buffy’s resolve softened at the uncertainty in his voice. He was slowly developing the confidence to stand up for himself, to make his own choices without fear of punishment – but he needed her to support him in it. No matter how badly she wanted to protect him, wanted to keep him from any danger – she had given him his freedom, and she could not take it back now – not even for his own good.

She reached over with a gentle hand to tip his chin back up, and he hesitantly met her eyes again. “Right,” she said softly with a reassuring smile. “I – I can tell you that I don’t want you to do this. That I want you to stay where it’s safe, that I never, ever want you to have to be anywhere near those people again. But that’s all I can do, because in the end, the decision is up to you.” She paused before adding again, “I *don’t* want you to do this.”

A soft little smile came over his lips, relief and gratitude shining in his eyes as he said quietly, “And that argument worked *so* well the last time, didn’t it, pet?”

She released a heavy sigh, her eyes becoming serious. She knew she had lost this argument already. But she knew that she was doing the right thing, allowing him to make the decision – even if it was not the wise one. “Come on,” she said softly. “Let’s get dressed. You need to wear a little more than that if you’re going on a rescue mission with *me*. Otherwise, I’ll get all distracted,” she shook her head, wrinkling her nose up as she smiled into his eyes. “Off my game – won’t be pretty.”

He let out an appreciative little chuckle as he headed for the closet and the clothes she had bought him before. “Basic black it is then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, despite the serious situation.

As Buffy hurriedly took off her pajamas and put on her clothes, she couldn’t resist a little glance at the amazing body of her lover. “Not much help,” she muttered. “Still *very* distracting!”


Downstairs in the living room, the Scoobies were in a state of near chaos. Xander and Giles were in a stand-off near the front door, the older man blocking it, determined not to let the younger man, frantic with fear, pass. Tara was trying to keep the others calm, though the vampires seemed near panic with the knowledge that apparently Riley’s people knew where they were now.

Willow stood near the two men, trying softly, timidly to calm the man who had been her best friend since childhood.

“I have to help her! You have to let me go after them!” Xander cried out frantically as Buffy and Spike descended the stairs.

“No.” Giles’ voice was quiet but firm and authoritative. “You can’t go after them, alone, Xander. These men have no scruples. No sense of morality. They’d as soon kill you as look at you.”

“I don’t care, they’ve got Anya – oh, God, our *baby*! -- and I have to go after them!” Xander was yelling now, on the edge of hysteria in his panic, unconscious of the tears that streamed down his face, trembling violently with rage and terror, as he glared furiously at the older man, his fists clenched at his sides. “I’m *going* after them,” he repeated defiantly, trying to shove past Giles.

The Watcher bravely stood his ground, blocking the doorway. “No.” He spoke the word simply, with determination to protect the boy he loved like his own.

“Damn it, Giles, let me *go*!” Xander nearly roared, and the others watched in horror as in his panic and grief, he raised his fist to strike out at the person he saw now only as an obstacle between him and the rescue of his family.

At the last moment, a strong hand gripped his wrist, tightly, but not hard enough to hurt him, spinning him around to face the tiny but powerful Slayer. Her eyes met his, solemn and compassionate – but unyielding.

“Buffy,” he whispered tearfully, shaking his head, pleading in his eyes. “You have to let me go! I have to find her! I have to…”

“No,” Buffy said firmly. “Xander – I know you want to go…but you can’t help her. These are armed soldiers, with weapons and power we know very little about – and I can’t let you get hurt.”

Xander glared at her defiantly, fresh tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. “You can’t stop me!” he snarled. “I won’t *let* you stop me! Anya – our…” His voice broke in a sob of anguish, and she felt him weaken under her hand. “oh, God…our baby…oh…God…Buffy!” And then, his sobs overwhelmed him, and she could tell that he was about to collapse.

She caught him carefully, guiding him to sit down on the couch, holding her weeping friend in her arms for a few moments. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’re gonna get her back. I promise, Xander. We’re gonna get her back, and I’m gonna kill anyone who’s touched her.”

The others were stunned by the fierce fury in her eyes – but Buffy had seen what these monsters they were dealing with could do to the people she cared about – and she would *not* allow it to happen again. “Your wife and your baby need you,” Buffy went on gently, as his sobs began to subside. “Safe. Here for them, when I bring them home. Okay?”

Reluctantly, Xander nodded slowly, knowing deep down that she was right. As always, she was the Slayer – and he was the moral support, he thought bitterly. But this time was different. This was his entire world in the balance.

Once Xander was calm, Buffy stood up quickly. “Okay. We need to come up with a plan. Let’s meet in the kitchen. That’ll be our war room. These bastards are going down.” As she passed Spike on the way to the kitchen, she looked at him, an odd look on her face, a realization she had gained from the encounter with her friend.

“And you,” she announced quietly, outside the hearing of the others. “Are not going.”

Before his outraged response could leave his lips, she added firmly. “Not because you’re my slave. Not because I own you, and make all your decisions for you. Because I love you. And I won’t let you hurt yourself like that.”

And with that, she left him standing stunned in the living room as she went on into the kitchen.