[A/N: So for a couple of weeks, I barely wrote anything. I was sick, felt all sorts of crappy, still had to work because, hey, when there’s only two people in a busy office and one of them’s on vacation? The other has to come to work – even if they’re half dead. And then, I got an eye infection (way bad news for me). So no writing. But hey, now I’m better and this is the result of a couple of weeks off. I would have posted this sooner, but my grandmother passed away on July 25th, and I had other things on my mind. And hey, my eternal thanks to Tam, because without her, you wouldn’t have much to read at all. She did a fantastic beta job on all eight chapters that I threw at her that week (from different fics). Title and quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers mean that all the residuals go to the other people and not to me. *sniffles*]

Previously: Travers and Anya struck a deal; Riley’s shown his true colors; and everyone’s converging on Revello Drive so Buffy can have the babies safely at home.

Book Three

Chapter Twenty-One Strings of tension


No collection of people who are all waiting
for the same thing are capable of holding
a natural conversation.
Even if the thing they are waiting for is only a taxi.
Ben Elton, Airport Rescue, Stark (1989).

The world is all gates,
all opportunities,
strings of tension waiting to be struck.
Ralph Waldo Emerson


“So we got the right stuff?” Connor showed the supplies he’d put in the bedroom to Kait, motioning her to the bed. “Is that what you wanted us to do?”

She patted his arm, bestowing a bright smile on him. “You did fine. Just get the good blankets off the bed, and strip the pillows also.”

“Strip them?” Connor cocked his head, confusion furrowing his brow.

“Take off the pillow cases, and pile them up on the floor next to the bed.” Kait moved to help him, after putting her basket down next to the bed. “We might need them later on.”

He stopped, looked at her for a moment, then decided he really didn’t want to know the answer to his question and kept working. Though after a moment, Connor started talking. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Usually it takes hours, sometimes days.” The short redhead moved around the room, clearing away all the breakables and making sure there was a clear path between the bed and bathroom. “But in this case, I’m not sure. Buffy might surprise us all and have them quickly.”

“So we won’t have to worry about drugging Spike if it goes on too long?” The teen glanced at Kait with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

A deep laugh shook through Kait and she wagged a finger at him. “I don’t think he’d take too kindly to that.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t been living with him for the past two weeks. He’s driving us crazy.” Dawn stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, watching the two of them finish. “He’s beyond insane.”

Kait looked at the two teenagers, folding her arms over her ample breasts. “My guess is he’s nervous, worried, and a whole lot of other things.” She paused, searching for a way to help them understand a little bit. “You have to remember, probably the last time he had any contact with a pregnant woman was before his turning, so there’s the issue of how dangerous childbirth used to be.”

When the two exchanged thoughtful looks, Kait plowed on, “He’s also a vampire.” She nearly laughed when the two looked at her as if she was dumber than dirt, but she shook her head. “You forget, because he’s different around you, but he’s a deadly force. His woman is going to be in excruciating pain, and there’s going to be lots of blood.”

“So you think he’s worried he might lose control?” Dawn gave voice to the question neither of them had thought of prior to this.

“I think it’s on his mind.” Kait shrugged, dismissing their sudden worry. “He’s got the ability to control himself, he’s a lot stronger than any of you realize.”

Changing the subject, Kait asked, “Dawn, did you get the basinet?”

“Crap!” Dawn hurried from the room, heading down the hallway toward Buffy’s old bedroom.

“Everything will be fine, don’t worry.” Kait smiled at Connor, then followed Dawn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy ignored all the chatter going on around her, looking straight at Spike. He took the hint, urging everyone to move a little faster. “Let’s get a move on, yeah? Got no time to waste.”

Quentin Travers shook hands with Giles and Wesley, and in a surprising move, reached forward for Spike’s hand. The vampire looked at him, eyebrow raised and a clear question in his eyes, but Travers never hesitated. They shook hands vigorously, neither one bothering to comment on the silence surrounding the actions.

“Good luck,” was all that Travers said before he swept out the door, followed by Nicholson and Spencer Whitworth.

Spike grabbed a hold of Buffy’s hand, leading her to the basement. He didn’t bother checking to see if the new Slayer was behind them, completely ignoring her presence, though he made sure Tara was ready. “Now’s the time, Glinda.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t need to nag me so much.” She jibed at him, before sharing a pointed glance with Oz. “I’m right behind you.”

They were gone in the next instant.

Jenner waited a few moments, then ghosted after them.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



“Lieutenant? We’ve got more movement at the shop. Three unknowns exited.”

“Direction?”

“North-northeast, sir, heading past the ice cream shop.”

“Stay on a visual until out of range.”

The radio crackled to life again, a different voice this time. “More movement at the shop.”

“Report.”

“English male, tall, glasses. Approximate age, mid-thirties. Subject two appears to be Hostile two nine four; captured and released. Subject was not tagged. Subject three is female, early twenties. Known to be Slayer number two.”

“Direction?”

“South. Subjects are armed.”

“Affirmative.”

“Team two, track known subjects. Do not engage.” There was a break, then, “Repeat. Do not engage.”

“Watkins, report in. Report in.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Anya shrieked softly when the radio in the training room crackled to life. “Rupert! We forgot our hostage!”

“No, dear, I haven’t forgotten him. I’m just waiting for the most advantageous time to utilize him.” Giles began to gather up the unused weapons, keeping his hands occupied while his mind focused on other things. “Would you mind checking on our hostage? Just see if he’s awake yet.”

She stared at him for a moment, a bit perplexed by his request. “You trust me to do that?”

“Of course I do.” Giles looked up sharply, not understanding her confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“You never would have before.” Anya blinked her eyes at him, clearly at a loss. “Xander wouldn’t have let me.”

“Anya, dear, I would really prefer if you never compared me to Xander Harris ever again.” A muscle in his jaw flexed, and she realized a half second later what she had done.

“Oh! Rupert!” She rushed to him, enveloping him in her arms. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply that you were in any way deficient. I was comparing you favorably to him.”

He hugged her back, shushing her repeatedly. “Really, dear, it’s nothing to get yourself worked up over. I do believe I was over-reacting to the stress.”

“We could work on relieving that stress.” She broke away from the hug, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket. “Wouldn’t take very long at all.”

His grin was positively roguish. “Then it shall have to be memorable.”

“Every time with you is memorable.” Anya walked backward, pulling him closer and closer as she moved toward the office. “Every. Single. Time.”

Giles laughed, picking her up by the hips, his lips nipping at hers. “No more talking, dear. We’re on the clock.”

Her laughter echoed through the empty shop.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Wasn’t hard to hear the grumbling from the human caboose of their little train; her muttering and near constant complaining were echoing off the concrete walls, countering the sloshing of their feet through the ankle-deep muck. Jenner was staying very far back – barely at the edge of Spike’s awareness. The two vampires hadn’t spoken about it, but Jenner knew all the same; their priority was the two blonds. The baby Slayer was on her own if it came to a fight.

The normal traffic through the sewers was nearly non-existent, no doubt every demon in Sunnydale knew who was in town. Not that the lack of demonic activity came as a surprise to Spike, since he’d done most of the rumor-spreading himself. Between himself, Lawson, and Rogan – not to mention Clem’s loose lips – the news of both the Council and the Initiative’s arrival did not go unnoticed. Every demon with half a brain was laying low; the rest were on their own.

Buffy was quiet, her attention focused inwardly, with little attention being paid to her surroundings. She let Spike take the point position, following behind him, her eyes on his back. Tara was right behind her, trying hard to avoid all the gross stuff they were slogging through, to no avail. Her nausea was slowing her down and she kept having to breathe through her mouth in order to avoid the stench.

“Spike.” He whirled around, retracing his steps. “How much longer?”

He checked overhead, then ducked back for a look at the next manhole cover. “Not long. ‘Bout two more blocks.”

Tara swallowed heavily, then gagged on the saliva pooling in her mouth. It was a futile effort and before Spike could reach her, Tara was leaning against the wall, her head hanging down and the contents of her stomach spewing out. Buffy wasn’t much better, and she stepped away from the other blond, holding a hand over her mouth.

“All right, ladies, let’s get you out of here. Can you walk, Glinda?” Spike laid a hand on her back, taking care to keep clear of the growing puddle of vomit.

“Oh, my God, this is gross.” The grating voice finally reached him, and Spike reacted.

“Might wan’ to have a bit of consideration there.” He leaned back to take a closer look at Tara. “Ready, pet?”

She shook her head, then stepped around the puddle, holding onto his outstretched arm. “I think I’m okay now.” Tara wiped a hand over her mouth, catching his eye. Her smile was grim, but she didn’t falter. “The faster the better, right?”

“Right.” He guided her down the sewer, passing Buffy, who was gingerly making her way forward. “Do you need me, kitten?”

Buffy waved him off, not opening her mouth. “Be right back, Slayer.”

Spike guided Tara the last two blocks, opening the manhole cover and waiting until she was halfway up the ladder before turning back to get Buffy. The manhole wasn’t on one of the streets, but in the parking lot just outside of the high school, which was only a couple of blocks from Revello Drive. At most, they had a two block walk in the open, and Tara didn’t hesitate, but headed right for the house. She didn’t want to be caught waiting and it might be easier for one of them to slip past the Initiative soldiers.

Buffy had made it halfway, with Kennedy still trailing behind. Spike reached her side in moments, urging the other Slayer forward. “You go. I’ll help her up.”

“I can still make it up the ladder.” Buffy glared at him in the dim light, pouting when he shook his head.

“Not takin’ the chance. She’ll go first, an’ then you, pet.” He leaned into her, letting his nose rustle her hair. “Don’t trust the bint. Rather let her go first.”

For once, Buffy didn’t argue, didn’t even question him. She merely nodded and held onto his hand, watching while Kennedy ascended the ladder. Buffy waited until Kennedy was clear, then she grabbed for the first rung. It was harder than she expected, until Spike put a hand under her rump and gave her some balance. “Up you go.”

She scrambled up the ladder easier than Tara had, and though she couldn’t lean down and give Spike a hand, Buffy was still smirking when he crawled out of the hole. “Told you I could do it.”

“Never doubted you for an instant.” Spike took her hand and headed off toward the house. “Let’s go, Slayer.”

For a second, Buffy wasn’t sure who he was talking to, until she realized that Kennedy was staring at the pair of them, obviously struggling for something to bitch about. Spike leaned in close to Buffy, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Not sure I like that one.”

“All she does is complain.” Buffy kept her face forward, but he could see the set line of her mouth. “She complained in the shop, she complained about who was going out to patrol, she complained all the way through the sewers. I’m so not in the mood for a whiny brat.”

“Better brace yourself then, we’re about to hit the homestead.”

“Funny. Ha. Ha. Ha.” The last ‘ha’ ended on a strangled note, as Buffy once more wavered on her feet. “Really need to get home.”

“Couple more feet, pet, an’ we’re safe inside.” Spike fought the urge to pick her up and carry her the last half a block, knowing if he did, she’d probably pop him good for the presumption. Even if she was on the last bit of her strength.

“We’re not safe inside, because then I have to push these babies out.” She gave him a gimlet eye. “You are so lucky I love you.”

Spike was quiet for a moment, then he looked down at her. “Too right you are, kitten. Too right.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



“Got movement!”

“Acknowledged. Report.”

“Subject three. Blond female, residing at target premises, approximate age early to mid twenties.”

“Location.”

“Approaching target premises on foot.”

“Do not apprehend. Observe only.”

“Roger that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Graham Miller listened with half an ear to the incoming reports from his unit, his mind contemplating a course of action that he’d previously thought untenable. The actions of both Riley and Gebhardt had opened his eyes to a possibility he hadn’t wanted to entertain previously. One was blinded by rhetoric; the other by jealous rage. Neither was thinking clearly.

While Riley Finn believed Graham’s presence was merely in a support capacity, their Major had issued differing orders, to be used only in case of a breakdown in command. He and Finn were of equal rank, though Graham had seniority time-wise, which meant almost nothing barring the difference in their paychecks. Except in scenarios like this one.

Gebhardt was a problem. Potentially he could be a greater problem than Finn, since he out-ranked both of them. But the whispering in Riley’s ear only fed Finn’s jealousy. The tall Iowa native had never been able to see clearly when dealing with Buffy Summers. The girl wasn’t right for him; she never would be. Graham understood, though, that in matters of the heart, logic very rarely prevailed. And Riley had been smitten from the first, though he’d been a bit slow to figure it out. But while Riley had jumped whole-heartedly into the relationship, it appeared to Graham that Buffy hadn’t. While she’d clearly been interested and flattered by Riley’s infatuation, it was obvious to Graham’s eyes that her heart wasn’t engaged. And as time passed, she became less invested in the relationship. By the time she and her cronies had destroyed the Initiative base, Graham could tell she was only going through the motions. So how come it took Finn months to notice?

His fellow soldier wasn’t stupid, not by any stretch, but he’d been blinded by what he thought was real love. Right now, he was feeling the backlash and finally facing the realization that it hadn’t been. The news of Buffy’s death had hit him hard, and for weeks afterward he blamed himself. More than once, Graham had to pull him out of a cantina or hide the stash of alcohol Riley had in his bunk. He’d been a mess.

When Riley had gotten the message from the Major about Buffy, Graham knew it was going to cause problems. He’d debriefed Major Ellis on all the points of concern and, thankfully, he’d been heard. It didn’t hurt that Graham had some serious military connections – running all the way to the Pentagon and White House – that forced Ellis to listen.

Faced with the dilemma of revealing Finn’s growing rage, Graham dithered about making a decision. If Finn came to his senses before issuing the order to kidnap either Summers or her infant, then he’d never forgive Graham. On the other hand, if Finn did issue the order and Gebhardt got his hands on the hybrid child – Graham might never forgive himself.

Unable to reach a decision, Graham listened while the radio crackled to life again.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



“Lieutenant! Targets One and Hostile Seventeen are in sight.”

“Report.”

“Subjects are approaching target residence. Unknown female appears to be following them.”

“Unknown? Identify.”

“Dark hair, approximately late teens or early twenties. Could be of Arabic or Middle Eastern nationality. Approximate height is five feet, six inches. No distinguishing marks.”

“Obtain photographs if possible.”

“Affirmative.”

“All units converge on target residence. Do not approach until further orders.”


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




“We’ve got a tail.” Oz barely moved his head, though he pitched his voice so that the other two heard him clearly.

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Faith was equally unimpressed. While she hadn’t fought any of the Initiative soldiers, she’d fought more than her fair share of vampires and demons; and been training extensively both before and after her faked death.

Wesley didn’t bother to turn around, but kept walking. “It’s exactly what we planned. Any idea on how many?”

“So far only one. Doesn’t mean there aren’t others out of my range.” The werewolf sniffed the air, then shrugged. “Can’t tell.”

The dark-haired Slayer moved ahead of the two males, flipping a stake easily in the air. “Are you seriously thinking anything is gonna be moving around? Between all the visiting white hats,” she deliberately put quotes around the phrase, “and everything else we’ve been doing, there’s nothing going on. Place has been deader than dead.”

“It’s always been my experience that whenever we believe nothing’s going to happen; it does.” Wesley fiddled with the collapsible crossbow, double-checking his pockets to make sure he had enough arrows.

Oz barely raised an eyebrow. He was focused on what was going on behind them. “Cynical.”
“I prefer pragmatic.”

Before they could argue word usage and meanings, Faith cut them off. “Either way, it’s probably true.”

They had agreed earlier to keep the patrol to the more active areas, including the college, and that’s where they headed first. Faith would do a sweep later on, since the campus was notorious for early morning attacks, right now they were just wasting time. “Any idea how long we should stay out here?”

Always the voice of reason, Wesley looked at his watch, stating, “Give it a couple of hours, at least.”

“Great. This is gonna be wicked boring if all we’re doing is walking around.”










Thank you so much for all your support and lovely reviews. Each and every one has meant a lot. Slainte, Nia