Buffy closed her eyes as she walked on into the kitchen, counting silently in her head. *Three…two…one…* She grimaced slightly as the expected explosion came right on schedule.

“Wait just a minute, here, pet!” Spike protested indignantly, stepping into her path just before she reached the table. “You can’t just say one minute, yeah, do what you like, and then take it back the next! You need to pick a decision and bloody well stick with it, love!”

She stood there facing him, her eyes down for a moment, before she looked up at him calmly, surely. “I just told you, Spike. That *is* my decision. You can’t fight once we get in there. His guards will be human, not like the guards you took down at his house. And you will be helpless there. You won’t be helping me – you’ll get us both killed. Because I have to tell you,” she went on, shaking her head slowly, “if I see that you’re in danger – you’ll be my first priority – and that could lose the fight.”

“You said it was *my* decision,” he reminded her stubbornly, though he knew that her reasoning made sense. “You said you weren’t going to make me do anything, either way. And now you’re taking that back?” He shook his head, looking away as he added, “You have to let me know for sure how you want things to be, Buffy – because I have to know.”

“Spike,” she began, frowning, confused and frustrated. “Nothing’s changed. I still want you to be free to make your own choices…”

“Unless I choose to do something you don’t want me to do,” he supplied with a note of accusation in his voice, dark blue eyes rising to hers again with determination and challenge.

*Wow,* she thought ruefully. *He really *is* getting comfortable with me!*

“No,” she argued, a harder edge creeping into her voice with her irritation. “Unless you choose to do something that’s gonna get you hurt! If you said, ‘Gee, Buffy, I feel like ramming this bloody stake through my bloody chest,’” she said with a wince-worthy imitation of his accent. “I’m not gonna be like, ‘Okay, Spike, whatever you wanna do, Honey’.”

He averted his eyes again, unable to deny that she had a point. “I want to help you,” he said, his voice softer now. “I don’t want you to go alone.” He paused. “I love you,” he finished softly, with an aching honesty in his voice that brought tears to her eyes.

She stepped forward slowly, wrapping her arms around him and seeking his eyes until he looked at her again. “I love you, too,” she whispered. “So much. And that’s why I can’t let you put your life at risk when there’s very little chance at all that it would even do any good.” She paused, searching his eyes tenderly. “Okay?” she prompted in a soft, gentle voice.

He did not respond, just looked away again, and she felt her frustration returning. But then, he nodded slowly. “Okay,” he repeated quietly. “Whatever you say.” It was very clear that he was still upset, not at all accepting of her decision. He looked back up at her with a firmness that surprised her. “But you don’t need to go alone. I might not be any help against humans – so you need to take someone with you who is.”

Buffy nodded. Compromise was the name of the game. She didn’t want *anyone* to get hurt while trying to help her, but she had to recognize how very foolish it would be to go in alone. “Okay,” she conceded, then thought for a moment, frowning. “Like who, though?”

Spike thought with her, looking down and frowning as he idly played with a stray lock of her hair over her shoulder. “Xander’s out,” he began softly. The boy, as he would always still think of him, was still on the couch in the living room, a distraught, weeping mess, babbling on the edge of hysteria to his nodding, sympathetic best friend who sat beside him. “He’s too emotionally involved. He’d get himself killed.”

Buffy nodded. “Will needs to stay here with Xander, so he doesn’t do anything stupid,” she went on. “Giles is a good fighter, and good with magic – but he’s too conspicuous. They’d all know who he was right off.”

As the others began to file into the room around them, they began to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. Tara looked a bit surprised to see the tender, intimate way they were embracing each other, to hear their soft, hushed tones of affection, Spike’s so much more assertive and confident than she had heard it before – and then her surprised look softened to a smile.

It seemed that Buffy had finally managed to get it right.

As they were discussing possible assistants for Buffy on this mission, the others began to take their seats around the table, talking quietly and speculating while they waited for Buffy to call the meeting to order. As soon as Willow and Xander, the last two to enter the room, were seated at the table, Buffy gently pulled out of the arms of her vampire, and he had a seat at the table near her as she stepped up to face the others.

Buffy looked with concern at her best friend, who was staring blankly at the table, his eyes wide, still in a state of shock as he tried to fathom what had happened. His tears had stopped and he seemed to be in control – for the moment. Buffy was glad to see that Willow was sitting close to him, holding his trembling hand in silent support.

“Okay. First of all…we need to find Anya. We need to know where she is. Will – can you do a locator spell?” Buffy began, her voice and eyes serious as she met those of her friend, wide and sober.

Willow nodded slowly. “Not a problem.”

“Good. As soon as we know *where* she is…I’m going after her,” Buffy informed them, her voice decisive, leaving no room for argument. “I’m going to bring her home, and that’s all there is to it.” She paused. “And if Riley and his men have hurt her – I’m going to make them pay for it.”

“You need to take weapons of some kind,” Giles suggested, not at all phased by her obvious violent intent. Everyone in the room seemed to feel the exact same way at the moment. “Riley’s men will be armed.”

Buffy grimaced. “I’m not very good with a gun,” she admitted.

“I am,” Spike quietly inserted, glancing up at her hopefully. He was far from giving up the argument.

“No,” she said shortly, cutting him off before he could make his suggestion, deliberately ignoring the dark look he shot her at her dismissal.

His unquestionable skill with a gun, which had been proven during their last encounter with Riley, would do him no good if it was humans he was faced with – a fact which had also been proven during that last encounter, when he had taken aim at Riley and been immediately incapacitated. She was unyielding on this one; he was *not* going.

Going on with the conversation before Spike could object, Buffy said, “I’ll take some of my weapons – daggers, things like that…”

“Not as fast as bullets,” Spike objected stubbornly, his concern obvious in his voice. “You’ll get yourself hurt, pet, if you don’t take any more weapons than that.”

“I’m taking the best weapon I’ve got,” Buffy informed him, suppressing her irritation, reminding herself that this sort of assertive behavior was a *good* thing – what she had been *wanting* to see from him. “Me.”

Giles spoke up then with a nod. “She may be right,” he admitted. “She’ll do better fighting in a style she’s used to, with weapons she’s used to, than attempting to use ones that are unfamiliar to her. She *is*, after all, the Slayer – and they won’t be expecting to deal with that.”

“Won’t they?” Tara asked suddenly, frowning. “I mean – has anyone else even thought about the fact that this is very obviously a trap? Buffy – if you just go in there – wherever ‘there’ is – metaphorical guns blazing – they’re going to be waiting for you. Chances are that’s why they took her.”

Willow nodded. “It could just as easily have been any of us,” she said softly. “I think anyone who was – outside – they would have taken. Just to try to get to you, Buffy.”

Buffy nodded. “How about that glamour, Will?” she suggested. “Can you get me in as someone else, like we were talking about? This quickly? They won’t be expecting that.”

Willow nodded. “Sure. I just need – maybe a couple hours.”

At her words, Xander let out a quiet little sound that was almost a sob of frustration and fear, and Buffy felt her heart wrenched by his obvious pain. She knew what he was thinking. What guarantee did they have that Anya *had* a couple of hours?

“Xander,” she said softly. “They’re using her to get me there. They’re not gonna kill her. If she’s dead, then they lose their leverage. They’re keeping her alive, I know it. And we’re gonna get her back.”

Xander nodded, trying hard to keep his composure, knowing that falling apart – which seemed so tempting at the moment – would in no way help his young wife. But his greatest fear was not for her life; he knew that Buffy was right. Riley’s people really had no reason to kill her.

Xander had been involved with the abolitionist movement for long enough and heard enough nightmare stories to know that there were much worse things than death that could be done to a woman – human or not – in the custody of Riley’s brutal men.

“By we,” Giles began slowly, gently returning their attention to the slowly developing plan. “who exactly were you meaning, Buffy? Because you certainly can’t go in there alone.”

Buffy was hesitant. “I’m – really not sure,” she admitted. “We were – trying to think of someone, but…”

“I’ll go.” Buffy and the others all looked up in surprise at Aaron, sitting toward the far end of the table from her. He glanced around at them, a bit self-conscious when all of their attention was focused on him. “What?” he laughed a bit nervously. “I’ll go!”

“I appreciate the offer,” Buffy said with a grateful, sad little smile. “But I need someone who can fight. *Humans*,” she clarified.

“Which is why I should go,” Aaron shot back, and she frowned, confused.

Giles cleared his throat, looking down at the table for a moment, before raising his eyes to meet those of his Slayer, carefully watching for her reaction as he spoke. “Buffy – Aaron – does not have a chip. He can freely fight humans.” He paused, giving a little half shrug as he went on, “In fact – I rather think at this point that he would be your best choice for a companion on this mission. He’s stronger than most of us, and a skilled fighter – and will not be recognized by Riley’s men.”

Buffy was still stuck back on the fact that the vampire did not have a chip. She stared at her Watcher’s calm, even expression, silently communicating to her not to overreact. The Slayer side of her was instantly on her guard, warning her that this unfettered vampire was a danger to them all.

But on the other hand, he had been there with them all along, been with Giles for even longer – and had not harmed any of them yet. She noticed that none of the others, besides Spike, seemed surprised by the announcement, so they must have already known.

She thought again of her recent conversation with her Watcher – and once again realized that her whole worldview was in need of dramatic re-shaping. She wondered how Giles had come to take an unchipped vampire into his care, and determined to ask him about it later. But she did not have time to consider the implications of any of it right now.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “You’re right. That would be the best option. Aaron – you’re going with me.”

The dark-haired vampire nodded slowly. Spike lowered his gaze to the table, his jaw set with tension, and Buffy did not miss the look on his face, though he tried to conceal it. He was growing more upset by the moment. He wanted so badly to be the one to help her, but circumstances made him useless in this situation – and being replaced as her partner by another vampire – well, it was just more than he could bear.

“Okay,” Buffy said, stepping nearer to the table – nearer to Spike – unconsciously as she went on. “So Will can do the locator spell immediately. And as soon as we find her, we can do the glamour and Aaron and I will take my weapons and go. Aaron – you can pose as a prisoner, or my slave, while we’re inside.”

“Good idea,” Giles nodded. “That way if they have some means of detecting that he is not human, it will be easily explained.”

“Good,” Buffy agreed, satisfied. “Then we’ll find Anya and get her out of there.”

As the meeting broke up and everyone went about to carry out their parts in the plan, or just to help out where they could, Spike stayed in his seat. Buffy put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at her, hurt and self-doubt evident in his eyes.

Before she could say anything, however, she felt a cool hand on her arm, and turned quickly to see Aaron standing behind her. She hoped that the immediate sense of suspicion that she felt was not obvious – but knew by the look on his face that it was.

“Slayer,” he said quietly with a nod, and the use of the word was with respect, not hostilitiy. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Privately?”

Buffy looked down at Spike again, uncertainly. “Spike?” she said softly, a question in her voice.

He merely shrugged and averted his eyes again, sullenly. She could feel his anger and resentment at the other vampire, and knew that he did not want her to take Aaron with her – not if he couldn’t go himself. Feeling an irrational sense of irritation at his behavior, she abruptly removed her hand from his shoulder and turned to face Aaron fully.

“Sure,” she said brightly. “Let’s go in the living room for a minute.”

As she followed the vampire out of the kitchen, she was unaware of Spike’s wince at the sudden loss of her touch, or the despairing expression of shame at his own uselessness that came over his face as she walked away.

She focused her attention on Aaron as he looked her in the eye and took a deep breath to speak. They were alone in the living room for the moment, as everyone else was busily making preparations.

“I know you don’t trust me.”

The blunt statement caught her off guard, and she looked away with a nervous laugh. “No, that’s not true…”

“Yes, it is,” Aaron said calmly, and she was surprised when she looked up again to see that he did not appear upset by it at all. “Makes sense,” he shrugged. “I’m your natural enemy. You’re chosen to destroy my kind. It’s perfectly natural.”

He was so matter-of-fact about the whole thing, that she found herself feeling more at ease discussing it. “I guess you’re right,” she admitted quietly. “It does make me feel a little weird.”

“But I want you to know,” he went on, holding her gaze. “I am absolutely and completely on your side. Yeah, I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, before all this started. But Giles found me, when I was nearly starved and hiding from the soldiers – and he helped me. He made me see things differently, Slayer. We don’t have to be enemies.”

Buffy nodded slowly. “I’m beginning to understand that,” she said softly.

Aaron was quiet for a moment, looking down. Then he looked back at her and said quietly, “I’ve changed. I don’t even *want* to hurt humans anymore. And I used to,” he laughed without humor, his eyes still serious. “I really did. But not anymore. I want you to know that when we go in there – you can know that I’ve got your back. Okay?”

Buffy smiled warmly at him, appreciative of the gesture he was making. His words *had* made her feel better about the situation. “Okay,” she assured him with a nod.

He turned to leave with a smile, then suddenly turned back, adding, “Oh…one more thing. Just so you know – my whole ‘not hurting people’ rule? Will not apply when we get into that place.”

Buffy’s smile faded, but she could not blame him. “That’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m not sure mine’s gonna hold up either, to tell you the truth.”

Riley and his men no longer fell into the category of those that she was chosen to protect. They had crossed a line with their cruelty and sadistic treatment of those helpless to defend themselves – and they had touched her family.

Not blood, extended, yes – but Anya was family.

As Aaron left her, Buffy’s thoughts returned to her own vampire waiting in the kitchen. She sighed, feeling a sense of guilt for treating him so dismissively, being as impatient with him as she had been. She had been irritated with him for his sullen attitude, but she knew why he felt the way he did.

*I’ve just got to be more understanding,* she told herself as she entered the kitchen. *It’s gonna take time, and patience, and lots of…*

She froze when she saw the empty chair where Spike had sat – and the back door leading out to the porch, open several inches. A cold, sick chill of fear swept through her as she quickly approached the door.