A/N Betad by Carol and dawnofme.



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Chapter Seventeen


As You Were



By the time the full complement of staff arrived for the day shift at The Initiative, the room in 314 was totally cleared up. The only thing out of place was the door that was still broken away from its hinges. It was no longer on the floor in the middle of the room, but stood neatly to the side of the opening it was meant to fill.


In the infirmary, Michael lay on a bed, his face ashen through shock and blood loss. The stump of his right arm was neatly bandaged and was held in a cradle, elevating it slightly. The door to the ward swung open, and he turned to see who it was.


“Morning, Michael, how are you feeling? I came as soon as I heard.”


“I’m…er…OK, I guess.” His eyes straying to his right arm. “Was lucky, I suppose.”


“Yes, thank goodness you managed to fasten a tourniquet around your arm before you passed out - it saved your life. The night staff did a good job getting you stabilised so quickly when they found you. Can you tell me what happened, Michael?”


“I was working on Number Seventeen, as you know, and it broke restraints and attacked me. It just went berserk. I was reaching for the panic button when it… when it severed my hand.” Michael swallowed hard before continuing. “As is proper procedure, I had a loaded crossbow in the room, and I managed to hit it just as it ripped the door off its hinges. I hit it through the back in to its heart. I dusted the bastard.”


“I’m sorry that you were working on Number Seventeen alone ,but I thought he was beyond the risk of reacting like that. It’s always been in the first day or so after they submit to us completely. I understand the doctor has offered you a prosthesis once your arm has healed? I can offer you a hand that will be like your own and respond to the same impulses as if it were part of you. It would be experimental, as it hasn’t been done before, but you agree to let me do it, don’t you Michael?”


He looked at the person standing at his bedside; a momentary flicker of fear passed across his eyes, but he nodded his head.


“Yes, I agree to the procedure. Do whatever it takes to get me back so I can operate again.”


“Excellent. I’ll schedule the surgery for later today. I’ll operate myself. Nothing but the best for you, Michael.”


With that, the figure turned and left the ward, checking in with the nursing staff to inform them of the decision to operate before walking down to the 314 section.


“Everything is completely in order. This situation may prove advantageous after all.”


Professor Maggie Walsh hurried along the corridor.


Oooooo


Michael lay on his hospital bed, eyes half closed against the pain that the drugs only seemed to succeed in taking the edge off but not taking away completely. Pain, not just from his arm, though he could feel his right hand throbbing as if it were still attached, but also from the pain in his head. He wasn’t allowed to mention that pain. His left hand strayed to a small shaved area on the back of his head, hidden by his hair, about the size of a dime.


Oooooo


Maggie Walsh walked through the rooms that had been the scene of her ‘death’ the night before. She grimaced and put a hand on the site of the wound on her side that Michael had inflicted on her, before Adam knocked her unconscious. It was painful but would soon heal. She was bone weary. She’d worked all night, once she’d recovered. She’d found Michael securing Adam in his specially reinforced cell and had managed to hit the traitor with the blast of a tazer before he’d seen her.


She’d moved Adam from that cell into another that wasn’t on any of the plans of the compound. She’d had it added below the floor of the room she used as her office in the 314 area. The contractors who’d worked secretly on it for her wouldn’t spill its secret as she’d killed them once it was complete. One advantage of holding all manner of carnivorous demons was that bodies were easy to dispose of without a trace.


When she’d returned to where she’d left Michael strapped to the operating table, head fastened securely in the brace they’d designed together to ensure no movement disturbed the delicate touch needed when working in the implant microchips, she was delighted to see that he was alert. She walked round to the front of the table and into his view.


His eyes widened in terror when he saw her.


“But you’re dead. I killed you,” he gasped.


“You’re obviously not quite as good at the killing as you thought you were,” said Maggie, smiling as she clutched the stump of his arm and squeezed.


Michael screamed.


“Shh! Not so loud. Michael. If you’re going to be like that, I’ll have to gag you for the next part.”


“No! You can’t! Not to me! I’m human! I’m sorry for what I did; I won’t try anything again!” he babbled as he realised what she intended to do.


“You won’t try anything again, Michael, of that I am certain,” said Maggie, thrusting a piece of rubber between his teeth. It was attached to a strap that she threaded around behind his head and pulled tight so his lips were stretched cruelly apart, Michael’s words reduced to quiet unintelligible grunts.


She reached for the clippers, trimming away the smallest amount of hair from the site that she could. She carefully made an incision in the skin and pulled it back with forceps to reveal the bone. A small hole was made with the drill. All the time she was working, Michael thrashed wildly on the table. A few moments more and she’d inserted the chip, attaching it firmly to the surface of the brain.


The work with the probe took the longest, programming all she required Michael to do. He would function as normal in every way, except he couldn’t refuse anything Maggie said or even leave The Initiative complex without her instructions. If he even thought about disobedience, the pain the chip would unleash would be immense. Michael’s thrashings calmed down as the chip took control of his actions. All it took was a murmured ‘lie still, Michael’ and he did.


She programmed in the story she wanted him to tell of Number Seventeen’s demise. Adam would find it, the Slayer and her friends. She didn’t want the regular soldiers out in force looking for it and discovering Adam’s existence. No, she would handle this herself.


When she finally finished, she rendered Michael unconscious and put him on the floor next to the pile of dust he’d used as part of his plan. She went back to her quarters and had slept soundly until she’d been awakened by the inevitable call when he was found.


Oooooo


She returned her thoughts to the present task. She went along to the laboratory which held various research projects, selected an item from one of the many stainless steel storage containers, and examined it carefully.


“Yes, this will do nicely for Michael.”


She was holding a metal animatronic hand, looking like something out of The Terminator movies. She walked over and put it in a sterilising machine so it would be ready for attachment to Michael’s right arm.


Maggie then walked into her office and went down to check on Adam, opening the secret door to the steep narrow steps leading down to the cell containing her creation.


“Adam, you have been very disloyal to your mother,” she said, standing in front of the cell.


Adam was strapped into a metal chair, electrodes stuck to his temples. His whole body was rigid as electric shocks pulsed through them.


“That’s why you must be punished, my love. I know Michael led you astray, but you should have defended me.”


He was unable to reply, teeth gritted together in pain.


“I think you will have mended your ways by this evening.” She smiled, turned and left him, turning off all the lights in the hidden room, leaving it in pitch darkness.


She was feeling very tired and had a long session operating on Michael ahead of her, so she went to the supply of food she held in her 314 office. She picked out a bottle of the specially blended formula and drank it quickly down, followed by another. She stretched her body as she felt the energy levels get replenished. She was ready to operate.


Oooooo


Buffy sat with Spike, waiting for him to wake up from Willow’s sleeping spell. They hadn’t reversed it, just left him to rouse in his own time. She sat close to him, unable to stop herself from constantly touching him, stroking him; needing to feel the contact between them. She’d been there for nearly an hour before he started to wake. He groaned and slowly, so slowly, curled his body up until he was in a fetal position, body tensing and shuddering.


“I’m here, Spike--oh, God, I should never have let you go in,” said Buffy quietly, fingers tracing around his face.


She couldn’t bear to see him suffering. His eyes opened and the first thing he saw was Buffy’s tearstained face, leaning close to his.


“Buffy,” he whispered.


“I’m here. You’re safe. You’re OK,” she soothed, kissing his forehead gently.


“Oh, God, Buffy, it hurts. It hurts so much.” He put his hands to his head and closed his eyes against the pain; a tear squeezing out and falling slowly down his cheek.


Buffy wiped it away, tears of her own ignored. She took hold of one of his hands and brought it away from his head and held it tightly.


“It will pass, Spike. Not much longer; I promise.”


Willow had warned her that expelling the Lorac bug would hurt for about an hour or so afterwards. They’d both hoped he’d sleep through it. Giles has advised against deepening the spell to make sure he did sleep long enough, worried about the possible side effects of mixing magics.


She moved closer to Spike. He shifted so his head was cradled in her lap, his arms wrapped around her, still moaning every now and then; his whole body trembling when he did.


Willow walked around the corner to see how her best friend was doing. A glance told her all she needed to know; not great. Each time Spike hurt, Buffy did, too.


“If you want a break for a minute, I’ll sit with him,” offered Willow.


“I’m not leaving him,” snapped Buffy. She took a deep breath and then spoke more calmly. “Sorry, Will, I can’t leave him. I just can’t. How much longer will it go on?”


“Shouldn’t be long now,” replied Willow, her own eyes brimming with tears as Spike groaned again.


The two girls looked at each other, silently, for a time before Willow turned to leave.


“I’ll get you some soup or something… no, Buff,” she added as her friend started to protest, “you need to eat. You’ll be no good to him if you don’t eat something. I’ll be back in ten.”


“Thanks, Will.”


A few minutes later, Buffy realised that Spike hadn’t moaned for a while.


“Spike? Spike? Are you still with me?”


He lifted his head up from her lap and met her gaze.


“I’m here…I think,” he said as he pushed himself into a sitting position. “Christ, I thought the chip hurt but this was worse; and what is that smell?”


“They’d implanted a Lorac bug in you. That’s how Adam could control you.”


He shifted away from her as he remembered trying to hurt her.


“It’s OK. It’s out of you now, and that horrid smell is part of what we used to get it out,” continued Buffy.


Spike looked at the livid bruises around Buffy’s neck.


“Did I? Was that me?” he said pointing to them.


No, Spike, you didn’t hurt me. That was Adam, but Willow saved me and we got out.”


“Oh, thank God,” said Spike with relief, hanging his head down.


Buffy moved in closer. She put her hand out and lifted his chin until his eyes met hers. Still holding his face, she leant forwards and kissed him; gently at first, then as his tension eased and he relaxed into the kiss, she deepened it, tongue seeking his. Spike put his arms around her, chains rattling and pulled her hard into his body, kissing her hungrily.



Buffy ran her hand through his short, almost bristly hair, moaning softly as her body responded to the passion they were igniting. She ran her hand down the back of his neck, then played her fingers across his throat, kissing him all the time. She ran her hand down his left shoulder then…


“Ew!” she cried, pulling away from him.


Spike looked at her, bewildered.


“Ew?” he said. “You’re kissing me and you’re saying ew?”


“It’s not you; but definitely ew!” she laughed, waving her hand at him. It was covered in the vile smelling paste covering the track the Lorac bug had taken.


Spike started to laugh, too and soon they were laughing hysterically. Tears were running down their cheeks, laughing so hard they could hardly make a noise.


“Stop!” gasped Buffy. “I can’t breathe.”


“Good thing I don’t have to,” quipped Spike, trying to stop his chuckles.


He took her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth, cutting off her giggles in mid flow.


“Thought that might help you focus,” said Spike when their lips parted.


“God, I was so scared when you were in there. I should never have let you go back in; if I’d lost you I don’t know what I would have done.” Her tears of laughter were replaced with ones of sorrow.


“Shh, pet, I’m here, aren’t I? Can’t get rid of old Spike that easily. Now where were we?”


They kissed again, Spike pulling her down so they were lying together.


“Look, love, not big into the bondage unless it’s me doing the chaining up. Can you take these things off? Kinda keep getting in the way,” said Spike, as he wriggled the chains from underneath him.


“Erm…sorry, but Willow said they have to stay on until tomorrow just in case there’s any residue from the bug still linking you to Adam,” replied Buffy.


“Does it look like he’s in charge?” said Spike grumpily.


“No, but it won’t hurt to be safe. You made me chain you up in the basement that night; same diff.” She kissed him as he looked at her with a bit of a pout. “Anyway, I can always do this.”


She reached for the zip of his jeans.


“Oh, for pity’s sake get a room already!” exclaimed Xander, walking round the corner and seeing Buffy heading south.


Buffy leapt to her feet, face scarlet. Spike just grinned up at Xander and calmly did up his zip.


“Never thought about knocking?” he asked.


“What do you want, Xander?” asked Buffy, not meeting his eye, “God, if he’d been a couple of minutes later, he would’ve seen me--what was I thinking? Not exactly private here.”


“Willow just asked me to see if you wanted something to eat…er…some food to eat.”


“Oh…er…fine…um…yes, I’ll come get some,” said Buffy, all flustered. She started to walk away.


“I’ll just stay here then, pet,” said Spike with a rather sarcastic rattle of his chains and a big cheesy grin at Xander.


To be continued…….