Buffy and Spike followed the governor out the door of his office and down the long hallway, now quiet and empty. To all appearances, his guards had taken his orders seriously, and were nowhere to be seen. But Spike’s vampire senses revealed to him that they were still somewhere nearby, ready and waiting to step in should their boss need them to come to his defense.

Or at any other command he might give them.

Buffy did not seem to share in his suspicions at the moment. If it was merely a façade, an attempt at playing it cool – it was a bloody good one. Her face was set in a casual expression, the beginnings of a smile on her lips, and she moved with an easy, unhurried grace that spoke of confidence and the utter lack of any fear.

For his own part, Spike felt much more at ease than he had been when they had arrived here – but he was no where near the point of total trust that Buffy seemed to have reached already – not yet.

*Yet?* he sneered at himself. *Try never, mate. You’re a bloody wreck, and can’t see a point in the near future when you won’t be!*

A dark mood fell over him, encouraged by his fears, as he thought back over the things he had been through, and the mark they had left on him. He had been a master vampire, and now, he was free to fight whenever he chose, had even wrought his vengeance on his abuser, this very night – and still, a quiet but insistent, ever-present fear consumed him.

Would he *never* be the vampire that he once was again?

As they made their way up a flight of stairs to the second floor of the home, his attention was suddenly drawn from his dark, brooding thoughts, as a small warm hand slipped into his. He glanced up at Buffy in surprise, just as they reached the landing on the second floor.

She was still looking calmly ahead of her as she followed the governor down a hall that appeared quite a bit more homey, less clinical, than the one on the first floor. Her expression revealed nothing, and had the governor turned around, he would not have seen any sign of the silent communication passing between the Slayer and her vampire.

But Spike got her message, loud and clear – and it was exactly what he needed.

He felt her soft, strong hand squeezing his gently, her thumb caressing a steady, soothing circle on the back of his hand, and he knew that she was well aware of the fearful thoughts that were flooding his mind.

It made him feel both foolish and weak, and relieved and comforted at the same time.

“This is the area where my family and I actually live,” the governor explained in a low, hushed voice, pausing for a moment and turning to halfway face his guests before continuing down the hall. “I do apologize, but they’re asleep, so we’ll need to keep our voices down.”

Buffy nodded her polite agreement; Spike was too distracted to respond at all, glancing anxiously around at his surroundings, as if expecting some new danger to jump out at them at any moment. He felt unsettled by the dim lighting, a sharp contrast to the brightly lit lower office level, very much aware that they had no idea whatsoever what the governor was leading them into, and any such danger as he imagined would be easily hidden in the semi-darkness that surrounded them.

Of course, he reminded himself, the lighting was not really so unusual, considering the governor’s words. If his family was sleeping down this hall, it only made sense that the lights would be turned down.

*How very bloody convenient,* he thought darkly.

He tried not to think about it – tried to look around at the scenery they passed without seeing imaginary dangers in it. The walls in this portion of the house were not bare and white, but darker and covered with works of art, hung beside family portraits and such. The effect was to give the whole place a warm, safe sort of feeling, in spite of the ornate wealth of the place

Spike tried to let that fact reassure him, before giving up and realizing that there was nothing that would reassure him at this point -- nothing but the firm, warm arm that slid around his waist as they came to a stop in front of a closed door near the end of the hall.

The Slayer pulled him just slightly closer to her in a reassuring gesture that was subtle enough not to be noticed by anyone but Spike, her eyes still focused attentively on the governor in a patiently expectant way. She waited patiently for whatever revelation he intended to make, clearly not afraid, as Spike was, that it might be something sinister.

In fact, she was far more focused on Spike himself at the moment than on whatever it was the governor was about to show them. The protective affection she had developed for the vampire over the past few weeks was in full force; she could feel the tension in his body under her touch, and knew that he was trying very hard not to show how very afraid he still was.

As some of the tension eased from his stance under the reassurance of her touch, just the first trace of a smile began on the Slayer’s lips at her small success, just as the governor turned to face them completely.

There was a polite smile on his lips, but his eyes were very serious, as he spoke softly. “What you’re about to see, I sincerely hope will reassure you about my intentions, and alleviate any mistrust you may still be feeling. I have brought you here simply to prove to you…” He paused, frowning thoughtfully as he sought the appropriate words, “…the reason for my – my sympathy to your cause.”

Buffy appreciated the fact that he seemed to be addressing them both, and he attempted to make eye contact with Spike as often as he made it with her – though his attempts were thwarted by the vampire’s averted gaze.

“If you would, please be very quiet,” he instructed softly, opening the door and leading the way into a room that was darker even than the hallway.

Buffy felt Spike’s resistance as she pulled him gently with her into the room.

He winced inwardly, hating the fear that he could not seem to shake, knowing that Buffy had to be so disappointed with him. He wanted to be able to believe that this was all going to work out, that the governor’s intentions were good; but he was so used to having any shred of hope he might manage to find end up leaving him in devastating disappointment…

His train of thought was cut off by the sight that met his acute eyes the moment they walked through the door – his fears immediately dispelled in surprise when he realized what sort of room they were in.

It was a child’s bedroom.

As Buffy’s eyes were still adjusting to the darkness of the room, broken only by a soft glow from a Barbie nightlight by the twin bed across the room from them, Spike was already taking in the entire scene through wide, startled eyes.

With the exception of the size, the room looked like any other little girl’s bedroom. The walls were decorated with posters in various shades of pink that the Slayer’s human eyes would not have been able to make out, but that were easily distinguishable to Spike. The room was filled with various toys and books, beautiful dolls and colorful decorations to create a child’s paradise.

And across the room in the twin bed, covered by a soft, thick Barbie comforter – lay a tiny girl. No older than four or five, with dark silky hair that held a healthy sheen in the glow of the nightlight beside her, and a sweet, angelic face that was peaceful in sleep, the child was nothing less than breathtaking.

Buffy’s soft gasp beside him told Spike that her eyes had finally adjusted, and he glanced up at her uncertainly, not sure of what had caused her startled reaction. Her wide eyes were focused on the child’s face with disbelieving recognition, her head shaking slightly, a confused frown on her face.

“Buffy, Spike,” the governor spoke in a low voice barely over a whisper. “My daughter – Savannah.”

A slow frown formed on Spike’s face at the expressions the two humans wore, as he became aware that there was something they were both aware of that he was clearly missing. For some reason, Buffy seemed to recognize the sleeping child – and the governor was not surprised that she did.

“What?” he asked softly, his eyes returning to the little girl. “What is it, Buffy?”

“Your – your youngest daughter?” Buffy whispered her request for confirmation, ignoring Spike’s question in her shock, her own eyes fastened to the child as well.

The governor nodded. “Yes,” he replied simply, his expression soft and sad. “She’s – she’s four years old.”

“But – how is that possible?” Buffy shook her head, a lost sound to her voice, as she tried to put together a puzzle that seemed to have several pieces missing.

Spike, for his part, had no idea what the bloody puzzle even looked like.

“Buffy,” he said in a soft but urgent voice, turning to face her, seeking her eyes. “What? What is it?”

She gave him a distracted look of surprise, frowning slightly. “You don’t recognize her?” she asked softly, looking back at Savannah with a fascination that she could not seem to hide. “I mean – her picture was…” She stopped suddenly, glancing at the governor, feeling self-conscious about discussing this man’s personal life like this, right in front of him.

“…all over the news,” the governor finished for her with a sad sort of smile, releasing her from the burden of having to finish. “I’m surprised you didn’t see it,” he admitted.

Spike frowned, still confused. During his time of slavery, he had not been permitted such luxuries as television or reading, and thus his knowledge of current events had because somewhat lacking. He had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, but he had a feeling that anyone else would have known exactly what was going on.

“A few months ago,” the governor began to explain quietly, his gaze falling with unmistakable affection on his sleeping daughter. “My daughter disappeared.” He paused for a moment, allowing those words to sink in.

Spike’s eyes widened as he looked back at Savannah, wondering at his words as he went on.

“I had just brought a new slave into my home…and he had disappeared as well. He was never found. I assumed – accurately – that he had taken her and left – some sort of malfunction of his chip had allowed that creature to – to take my little girl, and…and…” He paused, silent for a moment as he fought to control his emotions.

A silence fell over the room for a few moments, each of them taking in the sobering, horrifying reality of what the little girl had to have been through.

Thinking through the situation, Spike could see how it might have come about. The vampire who had taken the governor’s daughter was surely one of Riley’s planted assassins. If Riley had had any indication that the man might be persuaded to work against his cause, he would have seen fit to eliminate him before he could do anything to help bring down his very profitable business.

What he had probably not counted on was that the vampire assigned to the governor’s house would be a perverse monster of a variety that infected the human world as well, and much more interested in the governor’s beautiful child than in the task that had been assigned to him. The vampire in question was probably long since dust at the hands of Riley’s men – and good riddance.

Not all of the vampire slaves were innocent victims.

The question was – how had the little girl managed to survive what had to have been a horrific experience at the hands of a deadly vampire?

“They – they said she…” Buffy’s words suddenly cut off, and another little gasp drew Spike’s eyes up to hers again, to see that she was staring in utter shock at the girl in the bed.

He followed her gaze, and found himself mirroring her reaction – as he saw the tiny child, frowning in her sleep, caught in the midst of some dark dream…

…her delicate features slipping in and out of humanity in her sleep.

“Died?” the governor finished for her, studying their faces at the revelation that his little girl had made for him. He was silent for a long moment before speaking again with a slow, solemn nod, his voice heavy with sorrow and loss.

“She did.”