Dawn watched with thinly veiled amusement as Giles tried once again to lift the heavy suitcase. She quickly turned her attention to the contents of her bowl when Buffy took the suitcase from the older man’s hands to show him how to pull out the handle and wheel the case across the floor.

“You could have helped him,” Buffy scolded once Giles was out of earshot on the front porch. She crossed her arms and glared at the teen, her foot tapping in irritation.

The younger Summers couldn’t hold back a giggle. “I was going to. Eventually. You should have seen him, Buff. It was like he was following as set of really bad directions: yank handle, set suitcase down, stare at suitcase, clean glasses, mutter British obscenities, repeat as necessary.”

Buffy grinned and affectionately ruffled her sister’s hair much to the girl’s annoyance. Looking back on what she’d seen from her vantage point in the doorway, Dawn’s observation made perfect sense. “No more laughing at the man who is taking you back to London for a week.” Her heart ached at the thought of her sister being out of town for any length of time. She could count on one hand the number of days she and Dawn had been apart since the horrific nightmare nine months earlier.

Dawn sobered slightly as her thoughts ran along the same lines. She abandoned her soggy cereal to wrap her arms around Buffy’s waist. “Thank you so much for letting me go. You’re the best sister ever,” she murmured sincerely, repeating a sentiment she'd expressed many times in the last three weeks. Once life had settled down, she'd begged and pleaded for the opportunity to check out the universities in London. It had been a relief when her sister finally capitulated on the condition that Dawn be the one to ask the Gileses to escort her around the city. It was a small price to pay, and Spike’s parents had readily agreed.

The girls’ emotional moment was interrupted by Giles clearing his throat before venturing further into the kitchen. “I’ve just heard that due to the inclement weather, all flights have been delayed. Olivia is calling the airline to see what time we are scheduled for take off.”

Buffy carried Dawn’s bowl to the sink and rinsed it out before loading it in the dishwasher. She turned and leaned with her back against the counter staring out the window. Her eyes were fixed on the back porch while her mind drifted back to all the memories the nondescript slab of concrete held. She and Spike had spent many nights sitting on the steps watching the stars. Though no words were spoken, they seemed to understand with perfect clarity what the other was thinking. Having grown tired of hearing her complain about the cold concrete, Spike had hung a porch swing. An impish smile flitted across her face as she recalled the other uses her lover had found for the swing.

“Hello, earth to Buffy,” Dawn waved her hand in front of the blonde’s face, impatiently rolling her eyes when she finally got through. “Giles has only been trying to talk to you for the last five minutes.”

Buffy blushed as tore her eyes from the porch and focused on Giles. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

He smiled sympathetically at the younger woman he viewed as a daughter. She'd grown increasingly absent-minded ever since his son had left for his most recent assignment. “I was merely inquiring as to when you expected William home.”

She shrugged her slim shoulders and pushed away from counter. “He said it was only going to be two weeks at the most but that was nearly a month ago. Should be any day now.” Despite her nonchalant façade, she was concerned for Spike’s safety and dreading the very real possibility that soon she would be without Dawn and Spike at the same time.

Sensing Buffy’s worry, Dawn thoughtfully offered to postpone her trip. It was only the beginning of summer vacation and she could easily reschedule her appointments with the schools. She was also troubled by Spike’s prolonged absence and prayed that no news was indeed good news.

Buffy immediately shook her head, touched by her sister’s selflessness. “Don’t cancel your trip. Go to London, have fun, drink a pint for Spike,” she insisted. After all the girl had endured, she deserved a little happiness. Her brow furrowed as she considered exactly what she'd given Dawn permission to do. “On second thought, forget that last one. Besides, if it gets too lonely around here I’ll just ask Willow and Tara to stay the night.”

The shrill of Giles’ cell phone temporarily halted the conversation as both girls shamelessly eavesdropped on his side of the conversation. After ending the call, he returned the phone to his front shirt pocket. “Olivia says that the plane will be departing at seven o’clock. That leaves us three hours to get to the airport.”

Buffy opened her mouth to respond but was cut off when Dawn jumped up and grabbed the ringing house phone. “Devereaux-Summers-Giles house can I help you?” She listened to the caller for several minutes and passed the receiver to her sister. “It’s Jack,” she mouthed.

The blonde frowned as she accepted the phone. While the promotion had come with a lot of addtional work, her boss almost never called on Sundays. “What’s up Jack?” A few seconds later, she leaned heavily on the counter for support as her knees weakened. “When? How? No!” The phone slipped from her lax grasp and fell to the floor with a crash. Buffy slid down the counter and ended up on her knees.

The room’s other occupants could hear Jack calling for Buffy, but their attention was focused on the distressed blonde kneeling on the cool tile floor. Without having to be told, Dawn instantly knew the call was about her surrogate brother. She flew across the room to join her sister.

Giles picked up the phone and numbly listened to what the FBI agent had to say. Dazed, he returned the receiver to its cradle and closed his eyes. The rational part of his mind knew that he needed to inform his wife, but he couldn’t force himself to move.

Buffy rocked her sobbing sister back and forth, feeling frozen and dead inside. It took her a few seconds to realize that the agonized, mournful wailing was not coming from Dawn or Giles, but from herself.

---

A/N: Yes, short chapter. I apologize.
Disclaimer: I don't own any characters. Joss and Co. own all.

“She’s not going to be happy that you’re here.”

Angel glanced over at the sullen teen curled up on the front steps. He knew she was right. He was probably the last person in the world Buffy wanted to see. As much as he hated the thought of confronting his partner’s – correction, ex-partner’s – girlfriend, it was something that had to be done. She needed to know as much as he was allowed to disclose.

He awkwardly patted Dawn on her head and knocked once before entering the house. As soon as he turned around, he found himself on the ground with one royally pissed off blonde standing over him.

“Get up,” she hissed, hazel eyes flashing with anger and pain.

Angel obligingly scrambled to his feet only to be the recipient of another jaw-cracking blow. He raised his hands in supplication, deciding it was wise to stay on the floor.

Buffy looked as if she were ready to kick him in the ribs when Giles put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “I understand how you feel, dear, but beating Mr. Brennan senseless accomplishes nothing.” Looking away from the livid woman, he shot Angel a look that was pure hatred. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t let me have a go.”

The CIA operative gulped. His eyes darted between his ex-fiancé and his former partner’s father, trying to decide which was the least lethal. Taking a deep breath and hoping he’d made the right choice, he turned to Buffy with wide, appealing eyes and said the only thing that could possibly save him. “Spike may not be dead.”

The petite blonde, with Giles’ help, yanked Angel to his feet. “You have exactly two minutes to explain. If I don’t like what you have to say, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Angel shuddered, wondering when she’d become so frightening. He moved into the living room and waited until the others were seated before speaking. Due to the classified nature of the assignment, there was a limit on what he could tell them. Their mission was to infiltrate a militaristic anarchist radical group and find out who was funding the organization. Not always CIA jurisdiction, but the group was working with several terrorist cells. He paused for a moment, trying to find the courage to tell them the next part.

“Spike agreed to be part of an experimental project. Before we joined the group, he underwent hypnosis to suppress his memories,” he spoke quickly, getting the words out in one breath.

Buffy sprang to her feet angrily. Surely Spike wouldn’t volunteer for something so risky without telling her first, security clearances be damned. Knowing how much she worried about him, why would he do anything to add to that? “He what? I don’t believe it. You’re lying. He would never...”

Intrigued by this information, Giles turned to Angel. “What exactly is the purpose of this hypnosis?”

Pleased that at least one of them was willing to hear him out, Angel quickly explained that by suppressing Spike’s real memories, it would be easier for him to work undercover by minimizing the risk of falling out of his ‘role.’ In the event that he was ever interrogated, he could not reveal any incriminating information.

Buffy stopped her pacing and ran a shaking hand through her hair. The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was exactly the sort of thing her daring lover would do. “Let’s say that Spike did agree to this hypnosis,” she spat the last word. “What does this have to do with what happened?”

Angel smiled grimly. If she didn’t hate him yet, she would definitely want to kill him when he finished telling her exactly what had transpired. “Something went wrong with the hypnosis. Some of his old memories started to break through and were mixing with false ones. Unfortunately the memories were jumbled and fragmented. One night while we were doing a patrol of the outer perimeter, he accused me of being a government agent yet couldn’t remember why he was there. I used the trigger word, but it had no effect. We had a … uh…confrontation, and I thought he fell over the cliff. I didn’t know who he’d told about me so I had to get out of there. I was going to go back for him once I knew it was safe. Buff…”

Buffy’s hands clenched tightly, her knuckles turning white. It was one thing to learn that your lover died during a top-secret assignment but another to find out that your ex was responsible for his death. A small part of her wondered just how “accidental” everything was. The only thing preventing her from ripping out Angel’s heart was his claim that Spike was still alive. “What else?”

“We’ve kept the group under surveillance. Two days ago Spike came back up on our radar. We don’t know what he remembers or what he’s said. My bosses have ordered another team to go in there in two weeks,” Angel responded, slightly relieved when Buffy’s hands relaxed.

“What are you not telling me?” She couldn’t believe that this would all be over soon and Spike would be back in her arms. Rule number one, she’d learned early on, if it seemed too good to be, true it probably was. That went double when dealing with government agencies.

Giles’ sharp eyes bored into Angel’s for a moment, making the other man even more uncomfortable. “They’re not going in to bring him home, Buffy,” he informed her gravely. Angel’s slight fidgeting was a dead giveaway.

Buffy’s shocked gasp echoed through the silent room. She started towards Angel, murder written all over her body. Sensing that it was time for a strategic retreat, Angel leapt off the couch and ran for the door. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” he called out before racing out of the house.

Giles put a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a long hug. Hot tears soaked through his shirt but he paid them no heed. She’d been given hope and then had it cruelly snatched away in a matter of minutes. He pressed a fatherly kiss to the top of her head.

She pulled back and sniffled loudly. “I’m sorry Giles. I shouldn’t use you as my personal Kleenex. Besides, tweed’s kinda rough on the nose.”

Smiling gently he wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He couldn’t help being proud of his surrogate daughter. Despite all the anguish she’d been through in the past year she refused to let it break her. He was, however, surprised when she moved away and reached for the phone. “What are you doing, dear?”

The look on Buffy’s tear-stained face was determination mixed with desperation. While she’d been crying on Giles’ shoulder, she’d come to the realization that if she wanted Spike home with her, she would have to do it herself. “I’m calling Willow. We need to research. I’ve got two weeks to get him out of there.”

By the time Giles returned from picking Olivia up from the airport, four FBI agents and Buffy were gathered around the dining room table. Olivia greeted them warmly then bustled into the kitchen to start a late dinner. She wasn’t hungry in the least, but the activity would keep her mind off her fear for her son.

Giles sat in the empty chair next to Buffy and asked for an update on the situation. Unfortunately, there was no new information. Despite two hours of research, they weren’t any closer to finding out what organization Spike had infiltrated. He could feel the frustration rolling off Buffy in waves. With a two-week limit, they didn’t have time to waste just sitting around, idly planning.

“I still don’t see why you can’t just call Angel and ask him for the name of the group,” Xander grumbled. It had been a long day at the office and all he really wanted to do was to go home and relax in front of the television. He’d never enjoyed the research part of any investigation and Buffy’s bitchiness was only serving to frustrate him more.

Buffy growled in irritation and fought to control her temper. Xander had been asking this since he walked through the door and each time she gave him the same answer. “Because he’s CIA and would more than likely mislead or try to stop us.” She slammed her hand down on the table and stood up abruptly, sending her chair flying into the wall. “We’re never going to get anywhere this way!”

“Well, what do you suggest we do?” Anya asked, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “The CIA isn’t going to tell us, Spike’s obviously in no position to divulge any information, and there are literally dozens of groups that fit the description we have. We’re looking for a needle in a very large haystack – blindfolded.”

Buffy was silent as she racked her brain trying to come up with a viable plan. All her years of FBI training seemed worthless when faced with the task of trying to rescue her boyfriend. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to be objective. “Xander, I want you and Anya to follow Angel. Bug his house and car if you can. Put a tap on his phone, too.”

Xander opened his mouth to protest the illegal wire-tapping but the death-glare from Buffy made him change tactics. Instead he reminded her of his current caseload and the fact that, unlike her, he wasn’t on leave. Felons weren’t going to stop committing crimes just because Spike was in trouble.

“I’ll have everyone’s cases reassigned. Right now we need to focus on this situation,” Buffy assured him. When neither Xander nor Anya made any move to start their surveillance, her eyes narrowed. “What are you waiting for? I said I’d take care of it!”

Grateful to be given a chance to escape, the two agents quickly gathered their belongings and rushed out of the house. Until now, Buffy’s position as their boss hadn’t really affected their friendships, or the way she treated them in the office, for that matter. It worried Xander that she was willing to use her power for personal matters. Then again, he mused, if it meant saving Spike, she’d do anything to get him back, even if it meant risking her job.

Hearing Xander’s truck back out of the driveway, Buffy picked up the phone and dialed her boss’ home number. “Jack, it’s Buffy. I need Harris, Jenkins, Rosenberg, and Maclay for a few days. How many of their cases need reassigned? Yes, sir. Thank you. I’ll keep you updated.” She hung up the phone and turned to the two remaining agents. “Your cases will be taken care of. Jack’s agreed to let me ‘borrow’ you for three days. I want this figured out in two.”

Willow inwardly sighed at the seemingly impossible task. With little to no info on the infiltrated group or Spike’s assignment, they really had no clue what they were looking for. Buffy’s attitude wasn’t helping the situation, either. She sympathized with her friend, but was growing tired of her bossiness.

“I-I have an idea,” Tara spoke up timidly. She’d been peacefully tapping away at her keyboard, afraid of facing the wrath of Buffy. “It would be easier if Willow worked on finding the group while I did some research on hypnosis. You’re going to need to know how to bring Spike out.” She was relieved when Buffy readily agreed to her plan.

Giles, wearing a thoughtful expression, quietly left the room and walked into the kitchen to tell his wife that he would be leaving for a few hours. The look in his eye told her exactly what he was going to do. She nodded in agreement and promised to let the girls know that he’d return soon. “Tell Rhian I said hello,” was her parting comment.

Her friend working on their assigned tasks, Buffy excused herself and trudged up the stairs to Dawn’s room. The teen had grown increasingly withdrawn since the announcement that Olivia was flying in. Buffy couldn’t understand her sister’s behavior. Dawn spoke with Olivia regularly and seemed to genuinely like her. She pushed open the door without knocking. Dawn was lying on the bed on her back, her eyes closed.

Buffy softly padded into the room and gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. She reached out and brushed a strand of soft hair off Dawn’s face. The teen twitched and wrinkled her nose. Immediately knowing that the girl was awake, Buffy grinned and used one slim finger to poke her in the ribs. Dawn giggled and squirmed to get away, prompting Buffy to redouble her onslaught, tickling her sister mercilessly.

Dawn, now fully awake, struggled out of Buffy’s grasp and slid off the bed, gasping for breath. “What are you, twelve?”

Buffy shrugged her shoulders and gestured for Dawn to join her on the bed. She frowned when the teen just shook her head. “Wanna tell me why you refused to go with Giles to the airport? I thought you liked Olivia.”

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest and adopted a defensive pose. “She’s here to take me back to England, isn’t she?” She didn’t want to admit that she’d overheard Buffy and Giles talking about it the other night.

“Yes, she is. You were going to go anyway. What’s the big deal?” Buffy reasoned, hoping that Dawn wouldn’t put up a big fuss. On top of everything else, she didn’t need to deal with another of her teenage tantrums.

Dawn threw her hands up in the air and scowled at her sister. “The big deal is that whenever anything goes wrong you always send me away. Poor little Dawnie, she can’t handle anything serious. Let’s lock her away in the tower. Heaven forbid she actually sees what goes on in the real world!”

Buffy jumped to her feet and grabbed the girl by the shoulders. “It’s for your own good, Dawn. This is my job, not yours. I don’t want you dragged into all this mess.”

“Spike’s like my big brother, Buff. I’m already way involved. Why won’t you let me help?” Dawn inquired, her tone going from angry to slightly pleading.

Buffy pulled her sister in for a hug and stroked the back of her head. “I’m sorry if it seems that I’m shutting you out. I just worry about you, that’s all.”

Dawn pushed away from Buffy and glared. “And I’m not supposed to worry about you? Well, newsflash, I do. Sending me across the Atlantic isn’t going to stop that.”

Pressing an affectionate kiss to the top of Dawn’s head, Buffy reluctantly released her hold on the girl. “What’s today?”

“Wednesday the 8th,” Dawn responded, not following her sister’s train of thought.

Buffy nodded and headed for the door. “Go with Olivia. Figure out what schools you want to see and set up appointments for the 22nd and later. Spike and I will be there – I promise.”

A wide grin broke out across Dawn’s face. She bounded across the room and wrapped her arms around her sister’s slim waist. Like Spike, Buffy never broke her promises. If she said she’d be in London on the 22nd, she’d be in London on the 22nd with Spike in tow.

Giles sipped his lukewarm tea and casually glanced around the nearly empty café, watching the door impatiently for a familiar brunette. He was supposed to be meeting with his Watcher contact but she was fifteen minutes late. Already on edge, he jerked and nearly spilt his tea when a small, warm hand landed on his shoulder.

“A little jumpy tonight, Ripper?” a light feminine voice teased. A diminutive young woman slid into the chair across from Giles. She laughed softly at the perplexed expression on the older man’s face. “Come on, Rip. It hasn’t been that long. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”

“Er, Rhiannon?” Giles took off his glass and began polishing the lenses. He held the glasses up to the light to examine them for scratches. Finding none, as usual, he put them back on his face. His gaze was fixed on the long, glittery, multi-colored ponytail hanging down his former protégé’s back. “What horrid thing have you done to your hair?”

Rhiannon Yardley grinned and lifted one bright crimson strand for inspection. “I just got back from a ten-month undercover assignment, you old fuddy-duddy. I haven’t had a chance to dye it back. Besides, I’m supposed to be relaxing by water in Tahiti with some cute cabana boy waiting on me, not sitting here with you discussing my hair color.”

Giles flushed with embarrassment at the not-so-subtle reminder that she was using her vacation time to do him a favor. “Yes and how is it that you were able to be in Baltimore in less than an hour?” He took her silence and averted eyes to mean that it was not a subject she was at liberty to discuss. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed at being kept out of the loop. Once, she would have spent hours relating every detail of the case seeking his approval. He suddenly felt tired and terribly old.

“Tell me more about this problem with Junior. I could only hear every other word you were saying. Damn cell phone kept losing its signal. Travers and the rest of those penny-pinching bastards need to loosen up on the purse-strings a bit,” Rhian grumbled. She ordered a cup of coffee from a passing waitress, ignoring her companion’s look of distaste.

Once the waitress had delivered her drink, he repeated what he’d learned from Angel about the group and Spike’s hypnosis. Rhian borrowed his ballpoint and began jotting brief, coded notes on a white paper napkin. He delved into his theories on the group and the memory suppression. It was a thrill to be part of an investigation again; especially one he had such a personal interest in.

An hour later, Rhian returned the pen and stretched her fingers. Four ink-covered napkins were folded and stuffed in a pocket of her baggy olive cargo pants. She was impressed with the CIA’s advancement in hypnosis and made a mental note to mention the idea to her superiors. His pride in Buffy’s abilities was evident in the way he spoke. She was jealous of the affection he obviously felt for the other woman and couldn’t help but feel like she was being replaced.

“These groups are so paranoid they make the government look sane. It’s not going to be easy for Agent Summers to get in and get out, especially if she’s never done this kind of thing before. Are you sure you don’t want me to take care of this? I can have him back in five days tops,” Rhian inquired. She wasn’t exaggerating about the danger involved. While she’d rather be somewhere sunny and tropical enjoying her time off, she knew Buffy was an important part of Giles’ new life and it would hurt him if anything happened to her.

Giles smiled gently and shook his head. “Thank you, dear, but no. This matter needs to be handled… prudently, and I believe it is something Buffy would like to do on her own. I just need your assistance in finding the location of the group and getting her in. You’ve had experience going undercover in organizations such as these.”

“If you ask me, prudence is highly overrated, but you’re the boss. I’ll see what I can do for your hacker.” Stung by what she took to be rejection, Rhian stood and threw down a couple dollar bills on the table. “You know how to get a hold of me if you need anything. Give Liv my love.”

The uncertainty and hurt in her gray eyes prompted Giles to grab her arm as she moved to leave. He paid the rest of their bill and led her outside. The two slowly strolled down the sidewalk toward Giles’ car. “I do appreciate all you’re doing. I won’t forget it,” Giles said sincerely, drawing her in for a quick - yet meaningful - hug.

Rhian sighed dramatically and blinked to fight back a wave of tears. “Don’t get sentimental on me, old man. Besides, it’s the least I can do for you.”

Having reached Giles’ rental car, she spun on her heel and headed back to the café. “How exactly would you have taken care of this?” Giles’ voice stopped her after she’d walked a few feet.

Rhian paused and turned her head to smirk at her mentor. “I would have beaten Brennan ‘til he sang like my parakeet, then played it like a routine high-risk rescue op. Once we got him back I would have… encouraged the doc to fix his head and hand Junior over to you with a pretty pink bow on his head. What can I say, Rip, you taught me well.”

“Yes I did, Rhiannon, yes I did.” Giles watched as she disappeared back inside the café before getting into his car and driving away. The atmosphere in the house was no warmer than it had been when he left. Willow and Tara were still diligently working on their respective projects while Buffy paced back and forth between the two, peering over their shoulders. Buffy looked over at him and pointed up stairs when he asked where his wife was. The two other girls greeted him softly, their smiles strained. He made a mental note to speak with Buffy about her behavior before she alienated her friends.

He found Olivia in their bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed holding a picture frame in her hands. A chubby ten-year-old Spike was grinning up at her. “Remember when all the wanted was to be a poet?” She ran one perfectly-manicured nail along the edge of his face.

Giles smiled wistfully and joined her on the bed. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her closer. “Was that before or after he wanted to be a race car driver?”

Olivia sighed heavily and set the photo on the bed. “Do you feel like this is our fault, Rupert? If we hadn’t exposed him to this type of lifestyle so early on in his life, maybe he would have chosen a different career.”

“Possibly, but at least we prepared him well. He’s a strong-willed, stubborn man, love. With Buffy’s help, he’ll come out of this just fine.” Giles wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself. He had no doubt that his son would be rescued; he was just concerned that there would be no way to break through the hypnosis.

Sensing that it was best to change the subject, Olivia inquired about Rhiannon. Though she adored Spike, she’d often longed for a little girl. Fortunately Rhian, and more recently, Buffy and Dawn, had become her surrogate daughters. She frowned when Giles started explaining Rhian’s role in the rescue. “Yes, sweetheart, I understand that she’s going to help, but how is she doing?”

“I – er – didn’t actually ask. She looked fine,” Giles responded, a bit ashamed that he hadn’t asked about his friend’s wellbeing. “She did seem a little tired, but she’d just returned from an assignment. And her hair was a ghastly mix of colors.”

Olivia shook her head in dismay before kissing her husband on the cheek. “You’re such a fuddy-duddy, dear.”

“Funny, that’s what she said, too,” Giles murmured. The couple sat in silence for a few moments, each lost in thought. Olivia, remembering a time when she was Spike’s biggest hero and everything could be fixed with a band-aid and kiss. Giles was replaying his conversation with Rhian, hoping there hadn’t been something about her he’d overlooked. After a while, he was satisfied that Olivia would be all right on her own, and went in search of Buffy. One look at the worn expressions on Willow and Tara’s faces convinced him that it was definitely time to have a talk with her. He smiled apologetically at the other agents as he pulled Buffy into the kitchen.

She hopped onto the counter and picked up an apple. “You okay, Giles? You were gone for over an hour,” she inquired. He’d mysteriously disappeared before she’d had a chance to ask him to help with the research.

“I had to meet with a friend, but that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Buffy, I couldn’t help but notice some tension between –” Giles started, carefully choosing his words so as not to offend the young woman.

“Between Dawn and Olivia? Yeah, I noticed it, too,” Buffy interrupted smiling broadly. It wasn’t often that she thought of something before he did. “Don’t worry, Dawn and I worked it out. She was a little hurt, but everything’s great now.”

Giles removed his glasses and wearily massaged the bridge of his nose. “Thank you. That wasn’t what I meant, though. I know this is a very difficult situation, and you’re handling it quite well –” This time he was cut off by Willow’s triumphant cry of “I got it!”

Buffy jumped off the counter, kissed Giles on the cheek, and dashed off for the dining room, calling over her shoulder, “Thanks Giles, glad we could talk!”

“– but you shouldn’t take your frustrations out on your friends,” Giles finished lamely. He replaced his glasses and stuffed his hands into his pockets, slowly moving to join the others.

“I thought it’d be harder, you know, being the CIA mainframe and all,” Willow preened happily. It had only taken her three hours to break into the CIA’s computer system. Though it was tempting to take advantage of the access to all the CIA’s files, she searched only for files containing Spike’s name. Opening the most recent file, she quickly decrypted the contents and saved them into a text file before disconnecting from the network. Getting in had been surprisingly simple, but there was no guarantee that her access wasn’t being monitored.

Tara smiled proudly and patted the redhead’s hand. “I knew you could do it, sweetie.” She had picked up on Willow’s anxiety and fear of failing and letting everyone down, and had been reassuring her from the sidelines as she worked.

“You’re the best, Wills. What did you find out?” Buffy inquired impatiently. She, too, was proud of Willow’s hacking expertise, but there would be plenty of time for praise once Spike had been rescued.

Willow quickly scanned through the case file, relaying any important information: the Initiative was a radical paramilitary group located in the Adirondack region of New York, three hours from Manhattan and only one hour from the Canadian border; they ran a fishing camp as a cover and source of revenue; they had strong ties to several international terrorist organizations and were suspected of orchestrating the bombings of several Federal buildings in New York and Washington, D.C. There was a list of several known members but the identity of the leader remained a mystery.

“Spike and Angel’s assignment was to identify and apprehend the head of the Initiative,” Willow finished. “There are a few notes in here about the hypnosis, but nothing of much use.”

Buffy turned to Tara who only shook her head regretfully. So far she’d been unable to find any information that would shed light on the situation regarding her lover’s “condition”. “Xander and Anya should be here any minute to check in. Hopefully they were able to find something out.”

As if on cue, Xander and Anya burst through the front door. Judging by their matching grins, Buffy assumed they had news and was proven correct when Xander made a great show of handing her thick manila folder. She flipped through its contents, pleased to find that it apparently held all the information on Spike’s hypnosis.

“You stole that from his house?” Willow queried after taking a peek at the folder. It seemed too coincidental that Angel would have the exact folder they needed just lying around his home. Either the information was meant to mislead them, or he was secretly trying to help Buffy.

Anya returned from the kitchen just in time to catch Willow’s question. She slid into the chair next to Xander and took a sip from her glass. “That’s the odd thing: we didn’t have to. He just walked out and gave it to us.”

Sensing his friends’ confusion, Xander took it upon himself to explain. They had been sitting in his truck near Angel’s house when a black-clad petite woman visited the CIA operative. Half an hour later Angel, limping and sporting a black eye, crossed the street and handed them the file without any explanations. Shortly after, Angel’s visitor left.

“Let’s just assume that Angel’s not trying to give us the runaround and the information is correct,” Buffy responded once Xander had finished. She ignored the slight pang of jealousy that hit her at the idea of Angel with another woman, especially considering she had Spike, who needed her now more than ever. She read the first two pages before tossing the folder on the table in disgust. “Is that even in English?”

While the others discussed Angel’s possible motives for turning over the file, Tara scanned the notes on the hypnosis project. According to the preliminary reports, it was to be a standard hypnosis with no special tricks or unusual methods. There was no reason for the code word not to work unless one of the doctors had botched the job. Tara’s cheeks flushed with anger at the CIA’s arrogance. The human mind was a delicate, fragile thing that their so-called experts had no business messing with.

“W-we may have a problem,” Tara started nervously. She hated being the bearer of bad news, particularly after Buffy seemed so excited about the folder’s contents. She shifted in her chair and ducked her head when all eyes turned toward her. “I can’t find any problems with their procedure. There may be no quick fix for Spike.”

Mustering all her inner resolve, Buffy struggled to keep herself from falling apart. This was a major setback, true, but it wasn’t enough to warrant calling off the rescue. Sensing Tara’s unease, she bit back her impatience and softened the sharpness of her tone. “Keep working on it. The main goal is to get Spike out of there. Once we have him back here, time won’t be so big of an issue.”

“That’s great, Buff, but how exactly are you going to get in? Somehow I don’t think just knocking on the front door is going to cut it,” Xander pointed out, earning himself a nasty glare from the blonde agent.

“I’ve already taken care of that predicament,” Giles spoke up for the first time since joining the others in the dining room. He’d received a text message shortly after Xander and Anya’s arrival but couldn’t view it without Olivia’s assistance. He had no doubt who it was from and to what it pertained. “We will need to leave before sunrise. Pack only the essentials. If there is anything else you will need, we can get it once we reach our destination.”

Buffy, shocked by Giles’ assistance in clearing their first major hurdle, murmured her thanks and kissed the older man on the cheek. Leaving the agents to talk about various plans and theories, Giles excused himself and retired to his bedroom. He found Olivia reclining on their bed, chatting amiably on her cell phone.

“Here dear, talk to Rupert. I’ve got to help my technologically-challenged husband,” she sat up when Giles held out his blinking phone. After a quick phone trade, Giles began drilling Rhiannon for details on their meeting place and her strategy for getting Buffy into the Initiative complex. He was in the process of triple-checking the particulars when she cut him off by yawning loudly. Taking the hint, Giles ended the call.

After hanging up, he curiously inquired about the message, having heard his wife’s muffled giggles. She responded by handing him back his phone. The message was short, simple and to the point. “Thank you Olivia.” Grumbling under his breath about cheeky women, he settled down on the bed and went over his notes.

Meanwhile, the group downstairs quickly dispersed. Tara promised to keep working on the hypnosis problem while Willow, Xander, and Anya would take turns keeping an eye on Angel. Willow was relieved when Buffy assured her that there was no need for anyone to stay overnight. It had been a very long night and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Once her friends were gone, Buffy checked all the locks before wearily making her way upstairs. Not looking forward to sleeping alone in the bed she shared with Spike, she made a detour and slipped into Dawn’s room. The melancholy teen was in the middle of filling a large leather suitcase – she and Olivia would be leaving for the airport early to catch their mid-morning flight. “I thought we left your suitcase in Giles’ car,” Buffy commented, leaning against the doorframe.

Dawn rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, and then I had to unpack it because we didn’t know when I was leaving.” She stepped inside her closet and violently yanked a soft blue sweatshirt off a hanger. “I heard you talking with the others. Are you really going to go in by yourself?”

Buffy nodded and pushed away from the frame. She picked up one of the brightly colored shirts piled on the bed and folded it neatly. “I don’t have a choice, Dawnie. It would be too dangerous to go in as a group. Besides, this isn’t an FBI assignment. I can’t just ask the others to put their lives in jeopardy on a whim.”

“It’s not a whim, it’s Spike,” Dawn argued, blue eyes filling with tears. She dropped the sweatshirt and flung herself in her sister’s arms. She knew this was important to Buffy, but she couldn’t stand the thought of losing both Buffy and Spike. They were the only family she had left.

Buffy gently rocked the brunette, lightly stroking the back of her head. She’d hoped to keep Dawn in the dark about most of the details, but, once again, she had underestimated her sister’s incredible powers of eavesdropping. “Dawn, I –“

Dawn put a finger over Buffy’s lips to silence her. “I know, me too. I’m almost done in here. Do you need any help packing?” She didn’t want to hear Buffy say goodbye. Anything she said would sound too final, and Dawn just wasn’t ready for that.

Buffy nodded and squeezed her sister tightly. After zipping Dawn’s suitcase, the two made their way to Buffy’s room. Dawn claimed a spot on the bed while Buffy rummaged in her closet for one of Spike’s small duffel bags. In the event of a hasty retreat, her bulkier suitcases would only slow her down.

“Buff, I thought Giles said to only pack the essentials,” Dawn observed when her sister set a fourth pair of shoes on the bed next to the duffel.

Buffy protectively laid a hand over the suede ankle boots. She glanced at the selection of shoes on the bed, failing to see what the problem was. “Proper footwear is always essential.”

“And I suppose that cashmere is also an essential?” Dawn quirked an eyebrow as she held up a white sweater.

Buffy quickly blinked back the tears that were gathering in her eyes at the Spike-like comments. Seeing Buffy’s lower lip quiver, Dawn scrambled off the bed and embraced her sister, this time as the comforter. “It’s okay, Buffy, you’ll bring him home. I know you will. In a few weeks he’ll be back to griping about the estrogen level in the house and everything will be normal again.”

Humbled by Dawn’s faith in her, Buffy nodded and kissed her on the forehead. Turning back to the bed, she picked up the discarded sweater and refolded it. “Cashmere is definitely an essential.”

Dawn grinned and resumed her spot on the bed while Buffy continued packing. “Next you’ll be telling me that red leather pants are essential.”

Buffy winked at the teen and stuffed a pair of jeans into the bag. “You’re catching on, Dawnie, you’re catching on.”