The Genesis Project by Petra
Summary: In the middle of the night our two heroes are captured and tortured. Then suddenly the lights go out and they are running--they don't know who from or where to, but a battered slayer and a half broken vampire cling to each other, biding their time. Slayers are not meant to cower and this Slayer is never on her own.



Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon I'm just kidnapping them and putting them through an awful, terrible ordeal.
Categories: General Fics Characters: None
Genres: Action
Warnings: Child Abuse
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 31 Completed: No Word count: 167560 Read: 64952 Published: 12/05/2012 Updated: 12/02/2015

1. Chapter 1 - Flee Response by Petra

2. Chapter 2 - Escape by Petra

3. Chapter 3 - Londontown by Petra

4. Chapter 4 - Recuperation by Petra

5. Chapter 5 - Game Plan by Petra

6. Chapter 6 - A Picnic at Hampstead by Petra

7. Chapter 7 - The Package by Petra

8. Chapter 8 - The Getaway by Petra

9. Chapter 9 - The Girl in Question by Petra

10. Chapter 10 - The Project by Petra

11. Chapter 11 - The Romance of Train Travel part I by Petra

12. Chapter 12 - The Romance of Train Travel part II by Petra

13. Chapter 13 - Prague by Petra

14. Chapter 14 - The Closer You are to Danger the Further You are from Harm by Petra

15. Chapter 15 - No. 9 Wilton Crescent by Petra

16. Chapter 16 - Spike's Story by Petra

17. Chapter 17 - The Watcher's Son by Petra

18. Chapter 18 - All Is Better In the Morning by Petra

19. Chapter 19 - Those Left Behind by Petra

20. Chapter 20 - The Wait by Petra

21. Chapter 21 - A Spot of Violence by Petra

22. Chapter 22 - The Death of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce by Petra

23. Chapter 23 - Call the Midwife by Petra

24. Chapter 24 - Enemies, Foreign and Domestic by Petra

25. Chapter 25 - School Hard: The Next Generation, Part I by Petra

26. Chapter 26 - School Hard: The Next Generation, Part II by Petra

27. Chapter 27 - Complications by Petra

28. Chapter 28 - Words, Words, Words by Petra

29. Chapter 29 - Surprise by Petra

30. Chapter 30 - A Moment of Perfect Happiness by Petra

31. Chapter 31 - In for the Night by Petra

Chapter 1 - Flee Response by Petra
Author's Notes:
Genesis Project is set mid-season 5, right after Spike and Buffy's little talk but before the Glory line is really established. There is implied rape/probing but nothing really graphic.

It's a reworking of an old fiction so if you find it up on ff.net somewhere, don't worry i'm no plagiarizing. Do tell me what you think, thought, it's a work in progress!
Chapter One – Flee Response

She wasn’t sure how it happened but the lights suddenly shut off.

Buffy had been in her cell for three weeks and in those three weeks the lights had never shut off this completely. She could no longer hear the low hum of machinery that had been her only company for days. She swung herself of the bed, the only furnishing in the stark box of a cell and took the five steps to the door. It was exactly five steps. She counted it every day. She gently put her pal on the door. It swung open with barely any pressure from her. She stared at it for a long moment and entertained the idea that she may be dreaming, but seconds later her survival instincts picked up and she stopped questioning. She hurried out of her cell. She found herself in a corridor painted that specific shade of green indigenous to hospitals. Usually that connection would have given her pause but at the moment instinct-Buffy had kicked in and nothing else really registered.

Working on slayer sense and animal intuition she begin to run. Logical thought should have told her she had no idea where she was going but she kept at it. She ran blindly through the halls before finally crashing into something. It was a figure, a man it seemed, with unruly brown hair muttering to himself. Buffy paused for less than a second, to asses whether he was a threat or not. He was skinny--too skinny to be healthy. He looked hollow almost. IN her state she didn't stop to think what she might look like to him. All that registered was the same sense of animal desperation that was driving her. He wasn’t an enemy, he was a victim, and spooked as she was she was still the slayer. So she grabbed him and tugged him after her. She was relieved when he managed to keep pace with her until she reached a dead end. The hall T’d off in two separate directions. She was about to go left when the man frantically tugged her the other way.

“This way.” He said. He seemed so sure of himself that she followed.

And then without a word they were running again. They were half way down when the light suddenly came on along with blaring alarms and flashing red lights. Buffy and her companion were blinded for all of a second, but they kept running. So frantically that they hit a wall before they regained their bearings.

“A door!” Buffy exclaimed elatedly. She immediately pulled down on the handle and nearly cried when it didn’t budge.
Locked.

Of course it was locked. This was a secret inhumane facility. It had to be locked. For the first time since the lights went off, the adrenaline failed her. She began to realize the futility of an escape. Her stupid stunt would only get her punished. She couldn’t even think of anything worse than what she had already suffered, but it had to be worse somehow. Maybe they would take her bed. It had been a long time since she was acutely aware of her face, but it was drenched with her tears. She pulled at the door again nearly sobbing with the futility of it.

Her companion on the other hand didn’t have her qualms, he shoved her aside, grabbed the knob and with a savage grunt twisted it off leaving a hole where it had been he then he punched through the weak point, adrenalin giving him enough strength to bend the steel. In mere moments that felt like and eternity and a half, the door was twisted mass of metal. He grabbed a weeping Buffy by the hand and dragged her out into the darkness.

Soon they were making a mad dash through something. It was too dark to see and they were too forgone to care.

Neither noticed the minor stings and snags of trees snapping into their faces or pulled at their clothes. Neither felt their flimsy, cloth shoes give way nor the burs and leaves that got caught in their hair. They just kept running until the sirens and the noises faded into the background and they could no longer see even hints of the lights made by the facility.

They kept running, tripping on rocks and roots but they always managed to pull each other up and keep on going. They even splashed through streams and only just missed falling into a ravine.

It seemed like eternity had passed when both of them by some unspoken mutual agreement slowed to a stop. The only sound around them was the mingled sounds of their heavy breathing. After a few moments, the man grabbed Buffy’s hand and dragged her off into a darker pocket, she realized after that he had found a cave.

There was a tiny snick and a small flame illuminated the shallow space. Not much bigger than a public restroom but at this point both of its occupants were too exhausted to care they simply collapsed onto the floor and out in mere moments both had passed out.

*****

Buffy was dreaming.

She was in the gray room again. Usually in science fiction movies exam rooms of mad scientist lairs were pure white, this one was gray, raw cement and exposed piping. No frills to make this room look nice, only necessities. after all, the people who entered this room had other things to worry about.

Buffy was tied spread eagle on an uncomfortable gurney.

She could hear people above her bed talking about her. About the things they had to do with her. She felt like her blood was curdling in her veins. She knew what was going to happen next. Next came the poking and the prodding or the electro therapy or the water sessions.
They always spoke first, the torture would come after.

But Buffy barely felt it. She was gone. Already residing inside herself and clutching her last thread of sanity for dear life. There was a voice playing in her head. Low and soothing and rumbly. She had no idea what it said but it calmed her down. It spoke of softness and warmth and light. And she missed those things.

The voice came and went interwoven with her sessions and she looked forward to it each time

And then she could understand them, she heard the torturers ‘s plan. She began struggling anew at her bonds but extremely strong hands held her down. The other propped her legs up on stirrups the last thing she saw was the last torturer snap a pair of latex gloves on and then the all-consuming, violating cold.

And then she was screaming



*****

Buffy snapped awake expecting to see the walls of her cell instead she was surrounded by the walls of a cave, it was shallow, deep enough to let a little but not much light in. Her mouth felt a little furry and she could feel her tummy grumble. Rationally she knew that she had brought no food with her, but that didn’t stop her from looking around anyway. Her eyes fell onto a supine form a few meters away and belatedly Buffy recalled she had not been alone on her flight from the facility.

Slowly, she approached him. Yesterday had been a blur of adrenaline. Buffy remembered almost nothing of what happened. She knew only that her companion had all but saved her. She had no idea who he was, nothing. None of that had mattered last night. Last night nothing had really mattered except getting away. A quick glance outside informed her that she was in the middle of a forest of some sort and the sun had just been sucked behind foliage. It didn’t really surprise her that she had slept so long, last night she was sure she would sleep for a week.

There was a faint rustling noise as her companion began to wake up. The figure jerked suddenly and he was in a sitting position looking around frantically.

“What?” he exclaimed. “Where am I?”

Buffy frowned thoughtfully she hadn’t noticed his British accent before.

“It’s okay.” She said, surprised her voice sounded so level after such a long time without using it. “You aren’t there. You’re out of there. We got out last night. It’s okay.”

He was shaking his head and babbling incoherently Buffy had to squat down to his level.

“You don’t remember?” she urged. “The lights went off and then we were running and then we broke out? Don’t loose it now! We need to keep it together if we want to survive. WE need to get further away from there.”

His eyes snapped to her as soon as she started speaking, laser bright and eerily familiar. The only person who ever looked at her like that had been-

“Spike?”

He wasn’t lucid she realized and it was no surprise she didn’t recognize him. He didn’t look like the bleached blond vampire she had known for the last three years. His hair was a mop of golden brown, and his face didn’t have the same arrogant sneer she had thought was ingrained in his features. And yet he was unmistakably the slippery menace that could Houdini his way out of almost anything. Of course it was he who had got her out last night.

He was even wearing his duster. “Spike!” He said with not a little bit of amusement. “Spike, that’s what I told them to call me. Rather Machiavellian isn’t it?”

"Spike, snap out of it.” she demanded. Her tummy was outright demanding nourishment.

“I don’t know who you are good madam but I would appreciate you-” He broke off and peered at her. “Lord George Byron.” He said then looked away.

Buffy stared at him. Who the hell was he talking about?

“No Spike,” She insisted. “William the bloody!”

But Spike was on about something else. “--She walks in beauty like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and in her eyes-”

“You have got to be kidding me, Spike.” She interrupted. It didn’t really register what he was saying. “Buffy? Summers? Goldilocks? Slayer? All of the above? Snap out of it! This is not the time to be making jokes!”

Spike cocked his head to one side and studied her intently with his penetrating eyes. He looked so much like his usual self that Buffy nearly breathed a sigh of relief then he opened his mouth and it was painfully clear she was not dealing with her Spike.

Abruptly Spike’s face tightened and his eyes narrowed.
“You’re not real.” He said. “They’ve ruined you. Just like they’ve ruined everything else. They’re testing me is all. Always taunting and teasing. Always testing me. M’ not the lamb anymore, M’ the tiger.”

“The tiger?”

Spike’s eyes snapped to her.

“Yes, Blake said it first but Henley said it better.” He looked away again spurting out rhyming verses of what Buffy only had to assume was poetry. This was getting incredibly frustrating.

“I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.” Spike finished.

Buffy glared at him and finally when she was at a complete and utter loss at what to do, she punched him in the nose.

“Argh! Bloody hell!!”

Buffy grinned triumphantly. Now that sounded a lot more like the Spike she knew.

“Spike?” she tried again.

This time, when the blue eyes met hers they were more lucid.

“Buffy?”

The use of her first name unsettled her, but Buffy nodded.
“Is that you Spike? sane Spike? Less rhymy Spike?”

The vampire nodded slowly, then a moment later as if waking from a dream, he jumped to his feet.
“The facility-they’ve got you too-fuck. We have to get out of here, slayer, we have to-”

Buffy took a step back and held her hands out.

“Easy there, captain peroxide, we’re out.” She said. “but not safe. Too close to nurse Ratched’s happy house of screaming. We have to keep going.”

Spike nodded.

“Then what the bloody hell are we waiting for?”

Buffy glared at him.

“You.” She muttered as she took off after him.

Quickly, they negotiated their way out of the cave into the forest, Buffy pointed the way and they took off, not really sure of what they were running from but too afraid of getting caught to really stop. Pretty soon forest gave way to a field, one that had been tended to sometimein the past. THere was a structure at the fa end of it. Buffy wasn’t sure if she was relieved or terrified to see other human’s again.

“We have to stop.” Spike informed her.

She glanced back, stricken, her instinct was screaming at her not to stop at any cost. She violently shook her head.

Spike shrugged.

“Well, then, I have to stop.”

Again Buffy shook her head violently.

“Sunrise, Slayer.”

Sunrise. Buffy had forgotten. She didn’t waste words with a curse; instead they approached the house at the far end of the field. It was a farm house and there was a barn, which was mercifully unlocked. Neither of the two questioned the providence. They entered and climbed up the hayloft to hide in the furthest reaches burrowing into the hay to keep warm. They were asleep before they had time to register how tired they were.


*****

Her sub-conscious had decided it hated her and wanted to mess her up in any way possible. Despite having nightmares every night, Buffy still hadn’t gotten used to jolting awake. Coming to awareness still being tired but completely unable to go back to sleep. Not that after her nightmares she really wanted to, nightmares she could barely remember besides the gut numbing terror.
Buffy shot up taking in her surroundings instantly. She was surrounded by hay, it was dark out again and Spike was nowhere in sight.

“Spike?”

He was a little ways away. Downstairs out of the hayloft peeking out of the door.

“Spike?”

He looked up her way. His face was grim.

“The farm’s abandoned, slayer.” He said. It was a fact everything around them boasted signs of neglect., the hinges on the door were rusty, the wood had rotted, and there were ever a few cans of beer crumpled up and forgotten on the ground. The place smelled abandoned even to Buffy’s less acute senses. “--And I heard a noise.”

Buffy felt her insides twist. She realized her stomach was somewhere in the vicinity of her feet, which were bare. Funny, she hadn’t noticed that before.

“You heard-”

Spike held up a hand, and then pressed his index finger to his lips in the universal sign for ‘keep the hell quiet’. And then he was up the ladder and through the hay.

“We need to get out of here.” He said. “I can hear heartbeats.”

Buffy’s eyes widened and they searched frantically for a window, they found one and all but dived through it, never mind that they were on the second floor. Buffy barely even realized how she got down and they were out of the fields running and into a dark forest for the second time in as many days.

They ran through the night, Spike ran ahead leading Buffy. There was no time to cater to her pride, Spike had better night vision and they had to play on their strengths. Both of them could hear their pursuers crashing through the forest behind them. He pulled them into a cave a little ways away frantically going deeper and deeper. Still they could hear the people following them.

“Spike-”

“Find a place to hide, slayer.”

“Sure let me just strap on my night vision goggles.”

Spike let go of her sarcasm and scanned the area. There was a sudden clink of metal and both of them froze. Acting on pure instinct Both of them ran deeper into the cave, unable to really see what she was doing, Buffy ran straight off an overhang and feel about six feet to the ground.

“Spike!”

She whispered frantically, Spike, was already several yards away but he whirled around when she saw where she was and what she was sitting in front of, the overhang created a rabbit hole. Whoever was following was close, Spike pushed her against the wall and covered her body with his, pressing her flush against the wall. He pulled his duster off of her and used it to cover both of them . He prayed to whoever would listen that the dark and the cold would hide them from any sensors.

Spike could hear the chink chink of boots overhead and he felt Buffy freeze.

“They’re not ‘ere!” he heard a gruff voice say.

“Come off it, Roddy, I saw ‘em come in ‘ere!”

Spike could hear roughly five of them walking around. Speaking to each other like they were hunting particularly deaf rabbits they couldn’t be from the Initiative. A human may not hear it but a vampire could, clear as day. Hired soldiers, no doubt without any understanding of the supernatural creatures they were hunting.

“If we’ve lost them, ‘Orace, the boss will be furious.”

“She’ll ‘ave our ‘ead for this.” A new voice said.

“Oi, all of you shut your traps and search the cavern! A girl and a bloke, grab ‘em and taser ‘em and we’ll bring ‘em back to ‘er.”

There was a pause and then they started walking around.

They had no idea what they were up against.

Buffy was trying to get his attention. Spike looked passed her and saw her frantically gesture behind her. There was a tiny fissure in the wall. Spike leaned over Buffy’s shoulder and peered through the little crack. He could only catch a couple of pairs of boots and the beams of flash lights.

She frantically tried to catch his attention again and looked at him questioningly. She looked like she was about to chance a whisper but at that moment Spike heard footsteps get closer and closer to the overhang. He pressed a finger to his lips and crouched lower against the wall and under his duster.

“There’s an over ‘ang ‘ere, Roddy” someone said.

“Look into it.”

Buffy swore her heart stopped. She held on to Spike as hard as she could and closed her eyes trying, wishing with every single molecule of her body that she and Spike could become invisible for just the one moment that beam of a flash light wouldn’t catch them. Whoever was it was he jumped down and this time even Buffy heard the impact of boots on the cave floor.

“I don’t see anything,”

Buffy stopped breathing. The boot sounds rounded up and the gradually died down. The relief washed over them like a tidal wave. It was amazing and intoxicating and all too quickly Buffy and Spike realized they were pressed closely together.

Spike tore himself away from her before he even realized what he was thinking. The boot steps seemed to echo in his head again although he couldn’t hear their heartbeats.

“We have to go”
Chapter 2 - Escape by Petra
Author's Notes:
These first few chapters are going to come pretty quickly while I mustered the courage to post these, but I don't usually update this quickly. just a warning.
Chapter Two – Escape

For a while they were traveling in silence, so intensely glad to have dodged a bullet that they couldn’t express themselves clearly with words. They had escaped the facility’s goons, and avoided being dragged back. Buffy knew that she should be worried about where they were. She should be worried about travelling with Spike. She should be worried about whether or not her friends were abducted too. But nothing was registering. Nothing was happening, the questions where there in her head swirling away and yet they refused to demand answers. She was also furious. She was a warrior and next to her was another warrior and they had been reduced standing still as statues afraid they would be taken back to that place.

“I hate them.”

Spike looked at her. Neither of them needed any clarification as to who Buffy meant when she said "them." There was too much venom in her tone to mean anyone else. Spike decided not to make it worse, best to just change the subject.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten, slayer?”
That thought made Buffy pause. She had no idea. Everything that had happened to them in the last two days had suddenly caught up with her. Her stomach burbled.
She shrugged.

“What does it matter, Spike?”

Spike said nothing he just dropped to the ground, grabbed a few things and handed them to her.

“Mushrooms.” He said simply. “Don’t know how they’ll taste, but they aren’t poisonous. Some blackberries as well, in the thicket over there.”

Buffy was about to scoff when she caught sight of the toadstool Spike was holding in his hand her stomach rumbled again and she remembered how hungry she was. It wasn’t even a split second of hesitation.
Spike actually cracked a wan sort of smile as she ate the mushrooms and turned her attention to the small wild berry thicket on the side.

“We need to find civilization, Spike.” She said.

“We’re heading back toward that barn we passed.” He replied. “They’re speaking English. Accents point to somewhere in the north of England. It’s not a huge country we’re bound to hit a town somewhere. ”

“Comforting.”

“You’re being sarcastic. That’s a good sign.”

Neither of them pointed out that Spike was make a huge assumption that they were in England. They could be anywhere; they could be in Canada with huge swaths of empty land contending with hired guns from England to give them a false sense of security. Better to believe they were somewhere only a few dozen miles from a bed and maybe some food. That was the last they spoke before they reached the barn that had hidden in before Buffy looked at the hay longingly but knew better than to try and hide out in there again. They walked for what seemed like hours, careful to splash through streams and brooks despite the cold in case that place had dogs. They didn’t waste time talking or thinking. Neither of them wanted to face the precarious situation they were in, but neither of them could shake the niggling feeling that they were on a shorter leash than they thought.

“How did they find us?”

Spike stopped and looked at her.

“What do you mean, slayer?” he asked. “We can’t have run very far. We’re probably in some sort of parameter.”

Buffy was about to ask him what the hell he meant by parameter when suddenly she froze.

“Spike?!”

Spike turned to her.

“Slayer?”

She couldn’t say anything she just looked down, gesturing to the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.
“Tar.” She said. “Tar! Tar means a road!”

Spike quickly snapped to the side a grin spreading across his face. He squinted at the horizon, his preternatural senses clued him in to a slight glimmer just out of sight. His vampire instincts informed him that dawn was still a few hours away.

“Lights.” He said excitedly. “We must be closer to civilization than we thought. Bloody fuckin’ brilliant.”

Without thinking he grabbed her and they were running. Down the road which eventually lead to establishments and sidewalks. Buffy had never been happier to see establishments and sidewalks in her life. Every light seemed to be brighter than it was supposed to be. It was nice and deserted too but at this point she didn’t care. She was too busy realizing just how hungry and how desperate she was to get some sleep. Everything else faded into the background.

In the days and weeks that followed, no matter how many times she revisited that night, Buffy would never remember what had happened or how they had managed to stumble into the bed and breakfast or inn or whatever it was they had found to crash in mere minutes before dawn. All she remembered was that after days she was had food in her belly and a warm bed to sleep on.

*****


She was disjointed. What they had done to her had made her separate herself from her body. It was cold and wrong and horrific. Hell, she was sure had got to be better than this.

She lay on the cold pallet, glad they had left her in the sweats she had been patrolling in. It was a strange comfort knowing that the clothes she was wearing were her own.

She was waiting. Waiting for the only thing that kept her sane.

It always came, whenever the probing the violations got worse, he always came it was made better.

That was what she thought of when they pushed back on the steel bed and yanked open her legs.

Somewhere to the left of her head she heard the snap of latex gloves. She shut her eyes and traveled back to the last time she felt the rightness. Her one comfort in this place.

She didn’t even know how long she had been here.

This was worse than usual, the probes were always cold but this time they held a distinct ominous chill. And once they invaded her far enough they turned on the machine that had previously been an inconsequential whine in the background. It had been there from the start, she had payed no mind to it. Now it began to whirr and whistle and then Buffy felt the electric charge pulse though her body engulfing her in so much pain her concentration slipped and she screamed.

“well, that turns out nicely.” A sinister voice said. “Let’s up the dosage shall we?”

Buffy felt very muscle in her body tense in anticipation of the crippling pain when suddenly she was fine.
She was okay.

Like the devil himself was showing her the worst hell had to offer and was about to toss her to the dogs but he had overcompensated. It was like falling into cool healing water. And she could just float and not have to worry or be scared of anything.

Protected.


*****


Buffy jerked awake. She was greeted by the floral slightly cabbage-y wall paper. She was at the edge of her bed. On hand flung over the side and she was-

Buffy blinked.

She was clutching Spike’s hand in hers and tightly as she could.

The vampire was laying out sprawled on a floral duvet comforter on the floor, his head resting on a pillow he grabbed from the bed. Spike’s sharp features were softened by sleep and he looked almost boyish. Buffy gently tried to detangle her hand from the vampire’s but Spike whimpered and reached for her again. When he couldn’t find her hand he turned and mumbled something in his sleep suddenly restless. He sounded agitated, scared almost.

He had been there as well. He had been in the facility. Everything they had done to her, they had done to him. Buffy shuddered and took his hand again, almost instantly the vampire quieted.

She wondered at what pointin her dream the terror had abated, just the knowledge of an ally, calmed her immeasurably. It must be doing the same to him. She squeezed his hand and tried to go back to sleep.

There were no more nightmares.




She snapped awake suddenly. It was still dark out Spike was tossing and turning in his sleep, muttering and moaning. Being the slayer meant Buffy had always been a light sleeper, but the constant paranoia of the last few days made it even more difficult to really get any peaceful rest Spike’s fitful episodes had put all her senses into overdrive.

The unnerving thing, however, was that Buffy, now no longer tired, had begun to realize she had no real recollection of the last few hours. Everything was a blur from finding themselves near a town to her head hitting the pillow Buffy had no idea where Spike had dragged them—but she wasn’t hungry and there was an unfamiliar coat and two pairs of shoes in the corner. She vaguely remembered walking into a church rooting thought their lost and found, but couldn’t remember what they had come up with.

The other thing was the vampire, himself. Buffy tried to tell herself that because they were in this together and Spike seemed to know what he was doing, but she was worried about him. He hadn't even made a peep about sleeping arrangements. She had known Spike for years, she had even gotten used to his presence among her friends, while unwanted and usually resented, He had managed to insinuate himself. And he hadn't made a single crack about sharing the bed. He mumbled around thing just needing the comforter and curled up on the floor. It was a smaller ball than she had expected. Spike had always been wiry, but now he looked worse than she had ever seen him. He was wearing ratty cotton pyjamas that upon closer inspection now she realized were his usual uniform of black jeans and a black t-shirt, just ones that hung off his frame. Spike had always been wiry but now he looked almost skeletal, there were purple circle under his eyes and his cheekbones were so prominent Buffy thought she could probably use them as shelves. She wondered when the last time he had fed was or how long he could go without any blood.

Ignoring any misgiving she shook him awake. He sprung up in fighting stance so quickly she nearly got walloped in the face.

“Slayer, what the fuck?” He demanded.

“When was the last time you fed, Spike?”

Spike arched an eyebrow at her.

“What?”

“Blood, Spike.” Buffy repeated. “When was the last time you had any blood.”

“Why? Are you offering?”

To his complete surprise Buffy thrust her wrist under his nose. “Drink slowly or else I’ll stake you.”



Spike's first instinct was to question her. He couldn't wrap his mind around the slayer offering him her wrist with such total disregard for what it was she was offering him. But his hesitation lasted less than the time it took for him to process what she was doing. He didn't think of his dream back in Sunnydale, he didn't think about the fact that Buffy was the slayer, the chosen one. He couldn't make himself think about anything except how much he needed to drink.

His mind had gone numb of all the crazy implications, of everything he would have been thinking if he had had blood anytime in the last week. But now all he could do was shift his features and concentrate on piercing the paper thin skin on her wrist. He anticipated her flinch trying to keep her as comfortable as possible. But the moment the blood touched his tongue it too everything in him to keep himself drink delicately.

They drugged blood and he had wanted to keep his mind sharp and wait for his opening. Spike had escaped many a tight spot before, and focusing on a solution, on what he could do had guided him through it.

And when it had come he had gone looking for her. Her scent was everywhere. He had wondered idly if her scent had been used to distract him. To keep him from running. But how could they have known that Spike would never leave her behind?

A single mouthful of her blood did such wonders, he could feel his mind start to relax, start to take him out of his survival haze. He was very aware suddenly of who he was drinking from. Her eyes were shut and she had a blissed out look on her face. He needed to stop and bring them back. He pulled away and laved the wound closed.

She looked at the clear puncture holes in confusion. SHe looked dazed and needed to shake herself out of it.

“What?”

“Its just, every other time I’ve been bitten its—” she paused. “More grr argh.”

This surprised Spike, but he couldn't make himself go into the implications of that.

“Not about to go 10 rounds with a slayer. Not in my state.” Was all he said and then he made himself comfortable on the floor and went black to sleep.



When she woke again, Spike was gone.

Instantly Buffy felt her heart constrict with panic.

“Slayer?”

Spike. She could breathe again.

“Slayer, are you awake?” Spike asked as he closed the door of their room.

“Spike?” Buffy said, grateful that her voice didn’t come out as a croak from all the constricting going on round her insides. “Where did you go?”

“Had stuff to sort.” He replied cryptically. “Reckon I’ve sussed out how they found us last night.”

That woke her.

“What?”

“I was thinking about how and why they let us go. A slayer and an Aurelius vampire are not exactly a common bloody commodity.”

As he was talking he grabbed her hand and straightened it out, his fingers pressed random bits on the inside of her elbow.

“When those bloody wankers the Initiative set up Shop in Sunnyhell they got me with a tracker dart.” He paused at a particular spot on her arm. A knife appeared out of nowhere, Buffy blanched at that and began to struggle.

“Spike?”

Not taking his eyes off her arm, Spike answered. “Its imbedded under your skin now don’t move.”

Despite her reservations Buffy stilled. She felt a sharp pain and then Spike was licking her arm to close the incision. Then went to the bathroom Buffy had a moment to reflect on how strange that moment was. The strangest of which was there was an empty space where her inner Buffy was supposed to be squicky about something. The fact that it was Spike or that he was a vampire that she had just let casually cut her open should really bother her, she was the slayer after all. The flush sound from the bathroom snapped her out of it. Contemplation bad. She thought.

“We’re in Newcastle, pet,” Spike informed her. He seemed blissfully unaware of the weird turmoil about the lack of turmoil going on inside Buffy. “Not exactly a good bustling court to get lost in. I’ve got us a car to get to London Suss out a next step from there.”

Buffy just watched him as he went around the room as if looking for other bits or bobs that might be listening. He was asking her questions she realized.

“-I said, are you hungry?”

Hungry. Yes.

She nodded.

“You quite alright, Buffy?”

Buffy hadn’t realized she was holding back tears, but she was. And once she acknowledged their presence they were not going to go back into hiding. Tears dribbled out of her eyes and she wiped them away quickly.

Spike sighed. He was at a loss at what to do He figured she had been taking the whole thing too well. The whole thing was going to catch up to her at some point. Thankfully a few tears was all Buffy allowed herself. He watched her go from desolate to angry really quickly. The same kind of angry he had felt since the survival mode died down.

“Fuck this.” She muttered. “Are you sure you got everything? Do you think they tracked us here?”

“Don’t think so.” Spike answered. “Else we’d already be half way back to that bloody hell hole. I’m not sure if it was some sort of technology fuck all or divine intervention but I’m not about to wax philosophical to the Powers that be about that. I got us a car we need to get as far away as I can bloody well manage. Then we find a place to get lost of a while.”

Buffy shot him a questioning glance. She decided not to ask how Spike “got them a car” She found the only thing that worried her was that if he had flashed his game face the people who had them might be able to track them.

“In the car, slayer, we can talk in there.” He said shrugging into a brown coat that looked nothing like his usual duster. He tossed Buffy a shopping bag from a store she didn’t recognize. “Get some togs on we’re leaving in five minutes.”

Buffy slipped out of bed and stumbled to her feet. She could feel fatigue grinding into her bones. The adrenaline of the last three days must be getting to her. She did her best to ignore it and dug into the bag Spike tossed at her. She got her act together as best she could and then followed Spike outside.

The car was small and black, Spike was already in it and waiting. As soon as she slipped in the door he jerked his head towards a jeep that pulled up in the drive way, supposedly full of ‘tourists.’ Each one had the hardened look of a mercenary or soldier and was hiding discreet weapons. Before Buffy could panic Spike pulled out of the driveway, and sped off.

“Don’t comment, pet, we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
Buffy had had no time to even get her seat belt on. She hurriedly did up the harness and then twisted in her seat to look at what they were leaving behind. The ‘tourists’ didn’t seem fazed that the car had sped off.

“Spike…”

“We were too bloody close.” Spike said keeping his eyes on the road. “told you I could feel ‘em breathing down my neck.”

“Close?! Close would be if we read about it in a newspaper tomorrow. That was not close. I can feel the skin of my teeth ringing from that.”

“And yet here we are all fine and dandy. And that’s all that matters, innit?”

Buffy crossed her arms and righted herself on the seat.
“Yeah sure if this was a fifties movie and we still used those words.” She mumbled with a scowl.

“Terrified to quipping in oh point three seconds.” Spike replied without missing a beat. “That’s got to be some sort of record.”

“Not so terrified.” She said petulantly, under her folded arms, her stomach burbled. “And not so dandy.”

Spike smirked and shook his head, still keeping his eyes forward.

“Thought that might be a problem.” He said. He reached behind him to grab a Tesco’s bag. He tossed to her.

“Orange juice? Sandwiches?”

“Did I mention the long ride ahead of us?”

“Wasn’t going to complain.” Buffy said, ignoring the snort of disbelief. “Was just going to ask who you are and what you did with Spike.”

Spike didn’t grace her comment with a reply and just rolled his eyes. Despite the attitude, Spike was scared. He could feel the raw cold grip of it close around his stomach. That was a very close call, but he was accustomed to close calls. The Slayer, it seemed was not. She sat in the car eating her food quietly processing the events of the last few days. He wished that he had something to distract her with, that very process could damage her more than he would like to think. Bugger. They were going to have to face it sometime. He only hoped the slayer could cope. He didn’t want another broken and deranged Dru on his hands.

Next to him Buffy was desperately trying to deal with all of the things that had just happened of the last few days. They had poked her and tracked her like she was some kind of animal. They were going to get a special can of whoop ass when she came after them. There was no doubt in Buffy’s mind that she was going to come after them. She knew it like she knew that the vamp next to her was Spike and that he was going to help her. Slayer instinct had kicked in more than once over the ordeal and Slayer instinct was fucking angry.

Her tummy rumbled, no more mister nice guy.

Slayer instinct was also evidently, hungry. She felt like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. She almost instantly drained the juice and tore into the sandwiches. She glanced at Spike to see him concentrating on the road. He didn’t make a sarcastic comment, didn’t even succumb to road rage. Buffy looked down at the food and realized, Spike hadn’t eaten anything since he had taken a tiny amount from her.

“Spike, what about you?”

He turned to her and arched an eyebrow.

“What’re you eating?” she clarified.

Spike’s mouth twitched.

“Nicked some blood over in town. They had a little clinic with an emergency supply.” Spike said simply, he glared at her daring her to comment. “And before you get all slayer on me, Needed some of the human type, if we’re going to get away from the maniacs who like to play mister potato head.”

Buffy considered it for a long moment and then nodded.
“Thanks for the food, Spike.”

The vampire nodded.

“We need each other right now, slayer, trust and back up and all.”

They sped down the motor way, Buffy just realized how fast they were going.

“Isn’t there some sort of speed limit, Spike?”

The grim look on the vampire’s face vanished for a bit replaced with the sardonic smile she was a lot more used to.

Buffy sighed.

“What is it with guys and cars?” she said. “I mean, they just put you back to your childhoods- your-”

When Spike turned to her to ask what the bloody hell she meant, she was already asleep. Spike shook his head. A few hundred meters away he caught sight of a road sign announcing how long until they reach London.
He contemplated bashing into it, but remembered the low profile they needed to cultivate.

“Home sweet home.”
Chapter 3 - Londontown by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hello all! Happy Christmas! I've finally finished the next few chapters, but I'll try and upload them more quickly. Thankfully the holidays make give me a lot of good free time to work on this!
Chapter Three – London Town

Buffy woke again, it was dark outside.

“Where are we?”

“Greenwich.”

He shook his head as she tried to skim through what she knew of England to try and figure out if she actually recognized that name.

“Aren’t we the charmer in the morning, slayer?”

Buffy murmured something unintelligible.

“Shouldn’t we be in London by now?” She asked stretching in her seat.

“Had to take a roundabout way of it, went passed Dover, bought tickets on a ferry. Switched out the car.” he said. “Got to keep them guessing.”

Buffy mulled this over and then marveled at the sudden intelligence that was Spike. She had always discounted his intellect as his impatience tended to cancel it out, but now that she thought about it Spike had always managed to find a way to survive. He had had to learn a thing or to along the way.

“And how are you just paying for everything?”

Spike stopped at a red light and looked at her.

“Did you hear what I said about the trust, thing slayer?” he asked irritably. “What with the bloody fifth degree all of a sudden?”

Buffy narrowed her eyes. She was groggy she really didn’t feel like dealing with hard questions right now. Things like those were saved for after she had some food and some coffee.

“Just wanted to know where we suddenly have all this money.”

Spike hit the gas as the light changed and took a breath before pressing on.

“After those bloody commandoes did their thing on my noggin, I realized got to keep myself ready for things like this.” He said. He gestured to the back where his precious black leather coat was sprawled on the back seat. “S’long as I have my duster, I’m golden. Got some very important things tucked into some very safe pockets.”

Buffy frowned, realized that this was part of that olive branch they were supposed to have exchanged. Time to be the bigger person. Reminding herself that Spike was the only person she had, she swallowed her misgiving and looked at Spike.

“Do I want to know?” she asked finally.

Evidently, she had said the right thing because Spike’s face softened.

“Wouldn’t matter if you did.” Spike said. "S'mostly just poker winnings."

Buffy shook her head.

“You know that just sounds weirder and weirder.” She said. “It’s like I’m talking to Spike but hearing Giles. Except with a little more evil.”

Spike chuckled.

“Not really trying, For some reason its sticking.” He said. “All the better. We need to disappear for a while, Slayer, whoever’s after us, they probably aren’t going to give up.”

“Me slayer, you vampire?” Buffy made a raspberry noise. “We’re not running for long. This is the kind of thing where we be chased until we find out who’s playing fox and hound and then kick their asses.”

Her grim tone made Spike pause for a couple of seconds. She was a tough one this slayer. His brain was in flee response overload. He had no idea how she could just shift to slayer-mode. Despite himself he was proud of her. He really couldn’t have phrased it better himself.

“Least I don’t need to tell you how important this is.”
They rode in a silence for a few moments. It was Spike who spoke first. He gestured to the sign that signaled their entrance to London. The moments had slipped by faster than either of them had realized.

Buffy watched the houses whizz past. They were smaller than she was used to in California, but similar somehow. And it seemed like months since she had seen other people. It was strangely reassuring. As if there were so many people in the world surely who ever had them didn’t have the resources to find them in a place as crowded as this.
Spike navigated the car around the city. Buffy tried to follow where they were going for a while but quickly got disoriented. Somewhere near the docks, he parked the car and got out. Completely turned around and unsure why they were stopping,Buffy got out of the car.

“Spike?” She asked as she surveyed their surroundings. “Why are we stopping?”

Spike lit a cigarette and instantly looked a lot more like the vampire she remembered. “because, luv, I don’t want them tracking this car. We’re taking public transportation until we can get some new identities and get off this dinky little island. ‘Ve got a place in the south part of the city. Its not great, mind, but it will keep us safe while I make arrangements.”

Despite herself Buffy grinned.

“I thought you were going to make me stow away on a plane or something.” She said when he questioned her. “I’m not sure why but figured that would be pretty untraceable.”
Spike shook his head. “Seems like a good idea but they’ll be lookin’ for that. They’ll check the flights to California first. They could already be there waiting. But we lay low for a couple of days maybe a week and they’ll get sloppy. ‘Sides, Something tells me both of us need to recup, yeah?”

California. It hadn’t even occurred to Buffy for a second that she may be able to head back to Sunnydale. Her brain had been on flee mode for days She was only just beginning to come down from the adrenaline high. Even sitting in the car she had been watching every car behind her. Making sure nothing was following them. Concentrating on the slayer tingles but the only thing they seemed to want to warn her about was Spike. Spike. Spike who knew exactly what he was doing, Spike who didn’t bat an eye lash about helping her. She knew she shouldn’t push him, but the words were out before she could stop them.

“Why are you helping me?”

Spike sighed and finished off his cigarette.

“Well, slayer there’s a good amount of reasoning behind that one.” He said sounding a lot more like his normal self. “Was thinkin’ about it myself on the way over. First thought we’d be a good Idea to split up, but that’d be just what those tossers’d expect. They would be looking for you to be makin’ your way to California. They may give up on me, but I’ve made a few enemies in m’time an’ I don’t wanna risk them puttin’ a bounty on my head in the demon circles. An’ also those men who ran the place—humans every one.” He tossed the butt on the ground and ground it under the heel of his boot. “thought the chip was goin’ to kill me when I managed to overpower one. Anyway, selfish as that is, I know how to go about getting away and regroupin’ done it in Prague among other places—don’t think you’d be much good at that, slayer.”

Buffy nodded. The first thing she would have done was call Giles. But Spike was making sense, whoever had had them must be keeping an eye on Sunnydale. They caught her on patrol. One moment she was dodging demon slime the next she’s in a nightmare. Loathe as she was to admit to needing someone’s help. This was so not her line of business.

“So when it gets down to it, I’m offerin’ a truce.” He said. “’m not sure what they wanted with you,” Buffy locked eyes with him, her gaze was steely and then flinty. The things they did to her were unspeakable. Spike continued. “But the things they put me through—”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but Buffy had known Spike for years. And he was an expressive guy, she had thought she’d seen him hate before, when Xander would torment him or shrink his laundry on purpose or when she would call him impotent. But she had never ever, not even when she threatened Drusilla, seen Spike like this.

“Truce.” She agreed.

Spike nodded and then jerked his chin toward the London underground.

“So let’s get started, yeah?.”

*****

Home, it seemed was a little apartment in the sketchier part of London. It had become full dark while they were in the “tube.” Buffy initially thought that being underground would bring back terrible memories, but any people helped with the anxiety. Even late night party go-ers were strangely comforting She and Spike were just an anonymous couple moving with the crowd. It was a short walk to the apartment building and the place was multileveled but cramped. And clearly had not been lived in for a while. Spike puttered around the place. He walked up the flight of stairs to the bedroom and came back down with a passport and a wad of cash.

“Right,” he said. “First order’ve business is getting’ one o’ these for you so we put this island in the rearview.”

Buffy reached for the British passport. “You don’t think they’ll have an order out for someone named Buffy or--Spike Williams?”

She glanced at the booklet and arched an eyebrow.

“James Jones?”

Spike smirked.

“You don’t think I would put m’own name on the thing did you?” He said. “Point of those, slayer, is they’re there for when need to get somewhere and you’re not on the up and up.” He took it back from her. “We’ll give you something common and no one would be the wiser—will have to make you an American though I don’t want to hear you fake an accent.”

Buffy snorted. She was looking thought the cabinets it had been a while since those sandwiches and she was hungry.

“Yeah British Buffy is so not of the good.” All the cabinets were empty except for dusty beautiful and expensive looking china. “British Buffy is also hungry Buffy. Got anything to eat here, Spike?”

Spike shrugged.

“Nope, but we can go down stairs and have ourselves a party.” He said. “Last time I was here there was a shish kebab place around the corner that was pretty tasty, but even if not should find something you’re keen on.”

Buffy looked dubious. “Shish Kebab is some sort of double innuendo?”

That made him chuckle a little. Butchered English meant the slayer was feeling better. “Well, not now.”

Too hungry to be angry Buffy just grabbed some cash he was holding out to her and bounded down stairs.
It was freezing outside.

Buffy realized it was November when she had been taken from Sunnydale, It must be dead winter around now. She quickly spun around and crashed right into Spike who was holding out his black duster. Small flurries were falling around her—it hit her than that she had no idea what date it was.

“Looked at a newspaper this morning.” He said as if reading her mind. “It’s just past Christmas apparently.”
Buffy looked wounded for a second but brushed it off. Christmas. Much as she wanted to dwell she knew she would be opening a door that would be hard to close and much as she would love to wallow she needed to eat something. For now, coping could wait.

“Food.” She said. “Now.”

The Kebab place was long gone but there was a late night Chinese place open, small and dingy but bustling as it looked like the cold weather was not going to hamper the socializing of young Londoners. Buffy and Spike ended up grabbing takeout and heading back to the apartment. As soon as they were back inside, Spike turned on the heating and went about finding sheets and pillows. The place was well stocked if a little musty.

“How do you have this place, Spike?” Buffy asked in between bites of shrimp fried rice and some kind of spicy pork dish.

“S’usually rented out to a demon buddy of mine, but he took off for Doha last year.” He said. “Haven’t really found a new tenant so, I knew this was empty.”

“Could they find us here?”

Spike shrugged.
“They might, but it would take them a while. Humans like that wouldn’t be able to permeate decent demon society. Kevin and I weren’t really friends so I doubt they’d track him down. Should be alright for a few days.”

Buffy snorted.

“Kevin.” She said.

Spike arched an eyebrow and tossed a questioning look over his shoulder.

“I guess the people I’ve come up against have always been sort of fancy names like Lothos and William the bloody and The Master. Lazarus or the Anointed One and then you get names like” she gestured with her chopsticks. “Kevin.”

Spike shrugged.

“Dunno what to tell you, slayer.” He said. “Can’t imagine the Wankers council would be to happy with their slayer humanizing demons."

Buffy peered at him for a second but said nothing, choosing instead to focus on the food she was eating. They didn’t say much after that.

Buffy felt herself relax for the first time in days. And while her fatigued muscles thanked her for resting, her brain finally had time to catch up with the rest of her body. They had traveled 200 or so miles away from that place but it wasn’t enough. Every fiber of her wanted to be further away from them as her brain reminded her of what she just went through. She ate the rest of the food on autopilot. Lost in the images of what she wanted to do to the nameless faceless men whose blue gloves did such terrible things. Spike’s hand on her arm snapped her out of her reverie.

“Slayer,” he said. “You go on upstairs and get some kip. I’ll be right down here.”

Buffy froze. She hadn’t really thought of sleeping arrangements. She was going to be upstairs alone. She realized this was Spike trying to be kind, not taking the bed from her and letting her get what he thought was her way without arguing with her, but the thought of being alone just brought her back to her cell. It made her feel vulnerable and unwatched and therefore unprotected. Even as she felt her stomach sink to right about around where her feet were, her inner slayer was raging at the people who had reduced her to this.

She was not going to let Spike see her that way. Instead of giving in and asking him to come up with her, she squared her shoulders and went upstairs on her own. The linens smelled a little musty from being kept in closets for too long, but every bone in her body cried out for rest. She thought she would manage to shake the feeling suspicious and outright panic but try as she might she couldn’t turn her senses off. Every noise from the road alerted her. Every creak in the floor made her want to jump out of her skin. Sleep wasn’t even in the question. After what seemed like an eternity she padded down the stairs to see if Spike had managed to ‘get some kip’ or whatever he called. Since she reached the main floor, however, she heard the television. It was set low, and Spike was staring at it absently, eating leftover spring rolls.

“Spike?”

He glanced her and smiled wanly. “I know. I couldn’t get to sleep either.”

“Come upstairs, Spike.” Was all she said.

Usually he would have made a lewd comment but the dream he had had of the slayer that had him hard and wanting months ago was the furthest thing from his mind and after what he suspected they put her through at the place he figured it would be a long time before the slayer recovered.
Nevertheless it was hard not to react physically to her presence. She, thankfully, didn’t notice.

The company helped Buffy and once her head hit the pillow she was out.










End Notes:
All I want for Christmas is some feedback!
Chapter 4 - Recuperation by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hello all! Happy Christmas and happy 2013! I've been on vacation but I'm back now, and so is this story! I've just had another breakthrough so I'm very excited about what's going on and what I have in store for you all! Just a heads up I'm playing around a little with timelines--just a little. It will all be explained in my next Author's note.

I've gotten a few comments about the occasional typo, I'm trying to rectify that and write chapters quickly--so bear with me!

Petra x
Chapter Four – Recuperation



“I’m bored, Spike”



“So read a bloody book, slayer.”



“Can’t we go out and do something? We never do anything! isn't this the part where you get all inspirational and tell me that if we stay in here all cooped up and scared they've won?”



“No. Who the bloody hell thought of that?”



“I don’t know. Confucius?”



“You really are batty one aren't you? Why do I always have to go with the batty ones?”



“What are you talking about? It’s uplifting!”



“No, its hogwash meant to get someone traumatized into bed w’them.”



“Ew Spike!”



“Ow! Wot? I’m just sayin’”



“Are you saying you don’t think we should be out there doing something and we should just cower in here and wait for them to come to us?”



“Fuck no. I’m sayin’ if you want to take back your life or make some sort of grand sweeping statement like that you go ahead-but don’t you drag me into it.”



“Are you scared, Spikey?”



“No. I’m pissed off. Not even pissed off, I’m fuckin’ enraged slayer. Do you have have any idea what they did to me? I want to rip off their heads and drink of their necks as I would a chalice, but I’m not going to do that until I know little bit more so I’m not swaggerin’ in guns blazing just to have them shock me off to lalaland to do it all over again.”



“Really? Would have thought that was exactly your style.”



“They’re humans and I’ve got a little Pavlov in m’head trying to keep me from chasing puppies, remember?”



“So you’re really not going to get back at them?”



“Sure I am, just as soon as I know who ‘them’ is.”



“So you’re not going to be all uplifting and inspiration profound guy?”



“Bout you an’ me? I’m not going to tell you to live your life in defiance of the people who had us, luv, because you’ll do it when you damn well please."



“Well, poo. This is usually the part where you come in all big-baddy in and tell me to get over myself."



“Get over yourself.”



“No you have to say the thing!”



“Why? Already got you in my bed.”



“Ew!”



“S’true!”



“Yeah, but no touchies so there.”



“Gimme time.”



“Ew, Spike, quit leering at me! Spike I said quit it!”



“Bloody Hell! Ow! What the fuck was that for?”



“Leering like a gross leering guy!”



“Slayer I don’t know why you need me to tell you to feel better alright? If you want to go out, you do and you can. You don’t need someone big, broad and brooding to tell you that.”



“Big, broad and broo-why do you always make things about Angel.”



“Just sounds like something he’d say all earnest and trying to help. Just bloody packed with good intentions, but captain forehead dosen’t realize that he’s not helping he’s just addin’ to the bloody problem. Makin’ people feel all guilt-ridden cause they don’t feel better.”



“Shut up, Spike.”



“M’ just saying, slayer.”



"So you won’t come out and explore with me?”



“No, Slayer.”



“Why the hell not?”



“Because it’s day.”



“Fuck you.”



“Aw, c’mon slayer, don’t be like that.”



“I hate you, Spike.”



“Oh, cry me a river.”



“I can’t keep being in here, Spike. I can’t not do anything. I need to be getting better. I need to get better to get back—”



“I know, Sweetling”



“Sweetling?”



“You know what, I’m just trying to—”



“Thanks, Spike”



“Why don’t we take a look at what they have by way of a patrol, yeah?”



*****



Buffy had been patrolling every night since she was fifteen. The idleness succeeding the ordeal they had both suffered allowed her time to heal but it took less than a week for her slayer instincts to kick in. Spike relented and they had ventured out that night to find some action. Her slayer instincts were right. She had gone soft and sloppy and as Spike had pointed out a few months and a lifetime ago all any garden-variety vamp needed was one good day. Maybe 3 weeks ago she would have let that happen to her. But she had managed to crawl out of that hell and now she was angry. The last week had her incredibly agitated. All the sitting around had only reminded her that she didn't know who they were. She didn't have a plan and she was not even close to that. And that made her mad.



In the days before Professor Walsh revealed herself to be a psycho sociopath of epic proportions. She had covered PTSD so Buffy knew enough to know she should worry about it. But after a few days in London when her flight response died down the nightmares slowed down and Buffy stopped being scared and started being really fucking angry. She started by lashing out at Spike which quickly escalated. Two warriors cooped up together for any amount of time would create problems of all sorts. It was 2 days of this before Spike broke down and stared plotting patrol routes. They both needed to get back in shape.



The first few days she had been content with the odd fledgling, but one quiet Monday even the fledges seemed to have disappeared.



“Phooey!” she pronounced.



Spike who had disappeared for a second to investigate some promising rustling took his place next to her and lit a cigarette. “Bloody squirrel.”



“What is with this town?” Buffy demanded. “Two or three fledges a night and not even a single good demon in days.”



Spike arched an eyebrow. “Not everywhere is so mystical or as dangerous as the hell mouth, slayer. Else the watchers’d need an army instead of just the one.”



Buffy tensed at a sudden ruckus but it was a bunch teenaged girls. Spike nodded at them as they crossed the graveyard. They were carrying candles and blankets on their way to some sort of clandestine séance.



“Reckon you don’t see that in Sunnyhell too often.” Spike took a last puff and blotted out the cigarette. “Which is ironic really, since s’likely the only place somethin’ like that would work. But then the poor chits would attract every one of the daily 15 fledges that pop up. That’s there you come in. But every city in the world can't have vampiric activity like that else something like thevampires that go bump in the night would blow all our cover. And you couldn't patrol the whole bloody world, could you, pet?”



Buffy sighed.



“I guess that makes a stupid kid of sense. How long have you been sense guy and we just didn't know it.”



Spike smirked at that.



“Since always love, you and the scoobs are just good’t ignorin' it.” He paused for a moment and shrugged.



Buffy frowned.



“What, slayer? No quippy come back?” he asked. “No swipe at my expense?”



She didn't reply, suddenly interested in the names written on the tombstones.



Spike kicked himself when he realized what had gotten in the way of her chipper mood. However, before he could apologize or begin damage control his supernatural hearing picked up the distinctive scratching of a newborn vamp. Before he could open his mouth, however, Buffy vaulted off a gravestone running towards the sound.



“Dibs!” she yelled back to him following her slayer sense to the newly undead.



Mentally berating himself for constantly chasing the crazy ones, he took off after her. They arrived just in time to see the girls scatter but Buffy managed to intercept the vamp. Spike tugged one of the girls aside and shoved her behind him and out of the fray. The girl froze shell shocked, her eyes locked on the Golden eyed monster she had just tried to stand up to.



Buffy knew it was probably wrong of her to toy with the fledge but she couldn’t help it. It felt good to flex her muscles. Felt good to get some exercise on the kicks and punches that had softened due to disuse. Her reaction time, however, could use a little work, as she was crudely reminded when the fledge dodged an admittedly clumsy round house and embarrassed as she was, it wasn’t as bad as when a lucky jab caught her square in the face. For a moment she wondered how a new vamp could pack so much of a punch. It took her a second to realize that had actually been Spike. Her off balance round house put her square in the path of on of his deadly right hooks. Thankfully, Spike did nothing more than bark an apology over his shoulder before taking over and giving her a chance to recover.



She turned her attention to the girls whom she thought had scattered but, thankfully they had better sense than that. One of the girls was rallying everyone together. She caught Buffy’s eye and nodded. It was the one who had tried to stand up to a vampire.



Spike seemed to be toying with the fledgling as well. He threw a flurry of punches dodging any of the vamp’s clumsy strikes. It seemed he was even bantering. The fledgling had no idea Spike was even a vampire, much less an Aurelian Master. It was dust in a few seconds.



All his focus was on her as soon as the fledge was dust. Not wanting to talk about her flub, she chose to focus on the girls. All of whom had disappeared. Buffy surveyed the cemetery. Someone had a good head on her shoulders taking advantage while the super-beings were distracted to make herself and her friend’s escape.



Spike was staring at her like she was made of glass. That really pissed her off.



“Spike?” she questioned. “Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghos-alien- you know what? I give up! All those are plausible. You look like you just saw a monkey riding a unicycle holding a puppy.”



That seemed to snap him out of it. Buffy congratulated herself. That kind of quip always seemed to work on Giles. Spike, too, who’da thunk!



“You are a right weird bird, slayer. You know that?”



Buffy shrugged.



“Pot, kettle.” She said. “What’s got your fangs all fuzzy”



She expected another comment off that but Spike looked like he was fighting an inward battle. She waited.



“It was the chip.” He said finally. “It didn't go off just now.”



Buffy continued to wait; for her gut to constrict maybe, or for her hand to come up and dust her companion, or even for something, And yet nothing came. Spike was clearly waiting as well, he was balanced on the balls of his feet waiting for the ensuing fight.



Buffy felt like she was making herself care about this. Really the only thing she wanted to know was if this was going to help their fight against that facility.



“Just for me or-?”



Spike eyed her cautiously.



“Worked back in that hell hole.”



The pit of her stomach finally constricted, not in fear she realized but disappointed. Whoa. She had wanted the chip to be kaput. The people in that place were human and she wanted to unleash the full power of an enraged master vampire on their heads.



“Dammit.” She said simply.



She expected him to be surprised like Angel would have been. But Spike had always been able to read her.



“You aren’t worried about the implications.”



“Could it have been the heat of the moment maybe?”



Without a word or warning Spike pulled back his fist and punched her right in the face.



“Nope.” He said. Smirking as she sputtered and tried to recover.



He expected her answering blow and soon they balls out fighting.



Buffy nearly let off a whoop of delight. If fighting the fledgling had been fun, fighting Spike was exhilarating. That vamp had been a newborn. He has been no match for a veteran slayer. Now, a master Aurelian that was another story all together. He matched her blow for blow, switch for switch. Fighting for Buffy had always been a duty, her calling, of course, but not her idea of a good time. Right now, however, with Spike, it wasn’t really fighting. It was dancing, exhilarating and instinctual, but still deadly. Somewhere along the line Buffy had forgotten Spike was deadly. Some of his hits were a pretty good reminder.



She wasn’t pulling any punches, but Spike managed to land a good haymaker that thrwe her off balance. She was getting some good blows in too. Spike was never much of a kicker so Buffy took full advantage. She managed to get a really good leg jab that got him right in the cheekbone—which of course made him laugh. That caught the slayer off guard for a second, long enough for him to head but her and then she was laughing too. Buffy couldn’t remember the last time she laughed like this. A few more half hearted swings that the dodged easily. Finally Spike caught her on a fake uppercut and sudden she was on the ground pinned under a couple of hundred pounds of vamp.



“Stop your wiggling, slayer.”



“Why?” She demanded continuing her efforts to slip out under him. She caught his meaning just a little too late. Her eyes widened and she stilled.



Spike straightened up, avoiding the slayers eyes and doing his very, very best to calm himself down.



"Spike, I--"



“Nevermind it, slayer.”



“Sorry, I just--”



“I said never mind!”



She flinched at his raised voice and he immediately looked contrite.



“Buffy--”



Buffy’s eyes widened. She could count on one hand how many times Spike had called her by her given name. It sounded so strange coming from him. Sillier when he said that when anyone else did. His eyes were locked with hers. They are blue, she thought. She had never really put much thought into the color of Spike’s eyes before. She noticed belatedly that he hadn’t said continued his trail of thought and that she had now not said anything for too long. Now she was just trying to think of something quippy or funny to say but nothing was coming to mind and all she could think was: Say something! Anything Buffy just make some sort of noise and break this silence that is starting to get really deafening just say something! Anything!



“Words!”



Spike arched an eyebrow. “What?”



“Shit.”



“You are one daft bint you know that?”



“I think at this point I actually have like a really, really good reason for that.”



That made him frown. He didn’t reply to that, instead he reached for her hand. Was that that bolt of electricity other people talked about? Because it was not a pleasurable moment. In fact it made Buffy want the world to swallow her whole. She felt herself jerk back automatically.



“That didn’t come out right.” She stuttered. “I just-Spike I can’t—I—we should just go home? I think all the vamps are gone.”



With that she turned on her heel and stalked off all the while repeating her own idiocy in her head. Words? What the hell was wrong with her?



Spike sighed as he watched her go. He thought the better of trying to catch up with her right away. He needed to give her a second. Something had just happened between them and he wasn’t sure what it was. Either way he was going to have care with this situation it would either turn out really well or really poorly for him. Either way nothing would come of it tonight. Spike lit a cigarette and allowed himself a little time to finish it before taking off after the slayer. Maybe they had been spending a little too much time together.





*****



The next day Buffy was still not sure what had happened and why last night had unsettled her. They had come back to a normal camaraderie a few moments after reaching the flat and turning on the the telly. Neither of them brought it up and Buffy hurried up to bed before she was really tired. She gave up trying to sleep without him but faked it anyway to avoid any confrontation. He seemed to bite and just got in behind her.



The next morning it was as if nothing had ever happened. But while Spike was content to sit around all day like a slug, Buffy was restless. Her slayer reserves of energy, replenished after the massive amounts of adrenaline of the escape drained them, now forced her to go out and do something. Spike had mentioned they were leaving London in a few days time, but Buffy had never seen the city and she wanted to see what it had to offer. While sketchy at night, the place around the apartment was loaded with shops and food vendors. Buffy got herself a kebab and continued to explore.



For the first time she realized she had not been away from Spike’s immediate presence in a week. They slept in the same bed, they watched TV together they were like the world’s most fucked up old married couple. Disturbing as that was there was nothing Buffy could really do about it. They were in a truce and she would much rather recuperate with Spike than try and make it back to Sunnydale on her own. Nothing could stop them from intercepting her en route. The watchers council was also out of the question, if Buffy was being honest with herself she was not entirely sure they weren’t behind the whole thing.



She passed a salon where several Korean women were cutting hair, that was an idea. They were looking for Buffy. They knew what she looked like spy movie logic dictated then not to look like that. She walked into the store and immediately set up a cut and colour.



Just as she was sitting down accepting the hair shield she reflected on the watcher’s council and how much help they would be.



The facility had been obsessed with her lady parts. They had probed her and prodded her and the whole thing was like the gynecologist’s exam from hell. They were a powerful group, who could track them and send mercenaries after them. But most importantly they had used British soldiers. The watcher’s council was looking more and more plausible. She wondered vaguely what they had done to Spike.



Lost in her thoughts and plans she didn’t notice that Joo had finished cutting her hair all she had done was reshape and add a distinctly Asian looking fringe. The next step was dye her hair a rich auburn. They had done a marvelous job, considering Buffy had paid a little over 20 £ for the whole thing she thanked them and left the salon. While the hair looked a little choppy for her liking, it definitely made her look different. The dark her made her feel a little bit better.



She must have been in the hair place longer than she thought because the empty streets she had enjoyed before her impromptu haircut were now packed with people. Buffy willed herself not to panic. There had been way more people in the subway station when she and Spike had been down there. She could manage an open air street.



A man bumped into her on the street jolting her out of her reverie. Buffy glanced after him but couldn’t make out which one he was in the crowd.

That was weird.



Turning her attention back into the road, she nearly stepped into the path of an oncoming car. It beeped at her as it passed. She had managed to catch herself. Everyone was staring at her. Buffy glanced around it seemed like everyone was staring at her.



Spooked. Buffy had not realized how long she had been away from the crush of people. Suddenly everyone was looking at her. Everyone seemed to get in her way. It was all she could do to maintain a normal, unhurried pace back to Spike’s apartment. She unlocked the bottom door and let herself into the landing. Her heart was pointing in her chest and she felt queasy.

Spike would not doubt make fun of her to no end if she told him about her episode so she did her best to stop sweating as she walked up the couple of flights of stairs that lead to the flat.



Thankfully, she didn’t drop her keys as she opened the door.



It took her less than a split second to react to the stranger sitting across Spike in the living room. She picked up the nearest human she could and pressed one of her keys to his neck. The man she was taken prisoner was a lanky guy, taller than her, but Buffy’s eyes did not leave the dark-skinned man sitting across from Spike.



“He dies unless you let Spike go.”



Belated she realized he was holding a cup of tea and Spike was smirking at her bemusedly.



“Put him down, Slayer.” Spike said. “You’re going to want to hear this.”



“Are you crazy?” she demanded.



“Jury’s still out on that.” A familiar voice answered her.



For the first time she looked at the person she was holding hostage.



“Wesley?”



Wesley Wyndham-Pryce smiled rather sheepishly. And waited for her to let him go.



“Hello, Buffy, take a seat we have quite a bit to talk about.”







End Notes:
What do you guys think? I'm playing with everyone a little bit but basically when Buffy was taken, Willow went to LA to tell Angel and his brood. That lines up with when she did that in the canon timeline. So this is happening when it should be that "summer break" but not really, whatever, its La there's not real winter anyway.
Chapter 5 - Game Plan by Petra
Author's Notes:
Happy Super Bowl all! Sorry for the delay, I promise I'll try and church these out faster! In the mean time enjoy!
Chapter Five - Game Plan “Already told you watcher, jr.” Spike said leaning back in his chair as Buffy threw her arms around Wes. “That slayer you’re looking for is Buffy. He didn’t believe me, pet.”

Buffy’s bear hug was so severe Wesley had to wheeze his complaints. Spike looked on indulgently but after a few frantic gestures from the former watcher, he had to remind Buffy that Wesley was human and therefore needed to breathe.

“Wesley! What are you doing here?” she demanded, overjoyed to see someone from her past life, her real life in front of her. “I heard you were fighting baddies in LA!”

“I was. I am.” the older man said dazedly. “Until I got a call from an old friend. I must say when I was told we were looking for a slayer I never dared to believe it was you I was searching for.”

“You thought I was dead.” It wasn’t a question. Spike put down the mug of blood he was holding and stood behind Buffy silently offering his support.

Wesley eyed him suspiciously. “Well, the evidence was compelling. They found—”

He felt the slayer tense and immediately held up a hand..

“Maybe gloss over the details a bit, yeah?” He said with a nod.

Wesley nodded quickly and looked contrite.

“But I’m incredibly happy to see you, Buffy.” Wesley was a little ashamed of his own insensitivity.It had been a very strange day, finding himself face to face with William the Bloody and then turning around to see the slayer he had just been informed was dead, was not dead. But running around England with Spike. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find in the little flat,but this wasn't it. He decided not to ask Buffy why she was currently cohabiting with a brutal master vampire capable of untold mayhem. Oddly enough, that fact was not the strangest thing he’d seen today. William the Bloody fixing tea while he heated up blood was. .

“They made it look like I was dead.” Buffy said grimly. Her tone snapped the watcher out of his musings. She was addressing Spike, her expression showed equal parts anger, determination and terror. “They were able to make take us, fake our deaths and play operation and we still don’t know who they are!”

“That’s why the watcher is here, pet.”

Buffy turned so fast a human might have injured something.

“You know who they are?”

“Well, not personally.” He said he gestured to the man he had brought with him.

“As I said, I got a call from an old friend. He was the one who told me about the Genesis Project.”

Spike frowned at the name, but Buffy was all business. She turned her accusing eyes on the younger darker man in the room. He fidgeted a little under her gaze.

“My name is Devraj Prasad.”

She studied the man, who stood and shook her head. He looked South Asian but spoke with perfect Oxford English. He was younger than Wesley, maybe a year or two older than her. He had a thin long face, a tuft of black hair, and a wafer thin lap top.

“As I was saying,” He continued. “I was on track to be a watcher—or rather I was until the Genesis Project killed my father.”

“The who with the what now?”

Devraj turned the lap top to face Buffy. It was playing a slideshow of photos one was of a middle aged man; balding with glasses, next to him was a severe looking woman in her mid-forties. The sent and involuntary shiver down her spine. Even minus the blue gloves Buffy would remember her for the rest of her life. At the back of her mind she knew Wes was talking. He was telling her about his connection to the whole thing but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the face of the woman on the lap top.

Spike noticed the involuntary terror that had seized the slayer. He couldn’t think of a good way to comfort her, not with these new people here. He opted to maybe distract her for a moment.

“Like the hair, love.”

That seemed to snap her out of the memories. She smiled proudly. “I watch spy movies!”

“Not sure how effective that is going to be.” Spike said.

“I was blonde. I’m not anymore.” She replied defensively. “It might count for something."

“I think it looks good!” Devraj volunteered from his post, he got weird looks from the two super-beings for his trouble and he awkwardly went back to his computer.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to see you Buffy.” Wesley said with a smile. “Brunette or otherwise.”

“You look good too, Wes.” She replied ruefully. She gave him a once over. “Much less like I could rip you in half. I thought you were a rogue demon hunter?”

Next to her Spike snorted earning him an annoyed look from the former watcher.

“Right, no. That was a misguided phase.” He said trying to down play the blush creeping up his neck. “Now a days I work with Angel actually.”

“Angel?”

“Listen, I hate to interrupt.” Interrupted Devraj. “But I am not sure how much time we have. And this is not a short story, I’m afraid.”

“Of course.” Wes replied. “Buffy, Raj has some information that I think you will find quite interesting.”

“Okay,” Buffy said. “We’ll do the reunion thing later.” She turned her attention back to Raj. “So what’s the skinny?”

Raj studied the two superbeings closely, especially the slayer. He had heard so much about her. She looked like a slip of a girl, but even after everything she had been though she was still every little bit the trouble maker that the Watcher’s council made her out to be. Raj felt like he was defending his dissertation again. And he was failing. He cleared his throat, feeling the need to straighten his spine and get on with it. In the last few seconds he had seen this woman go from being visually terrified to beaming pride to defensive to slayer, and she did so at a dizzying pace. Any reservations he may have had that this spitfire of a girl was the key to avenging his father and bringing down Genesis faded.

“My father is-was-Ravi Prasad. He- He was a good man. Had wanted to become a doctor, but the watcher’s council has been a part of our family and upbringing for generations. He did go to medical school and began studying the science of the supernatural. He was dispatched to Germany to check a spike in paranormal activity he was their medic. The people they had come to observe knew they were coming. My father survived. He warned me against the council. He told me that Genesis had them. At the time I did not know who the Genesis was. He returned to the house only to take some personal belongings.” Raj didn’t let his breath hitch but he chanced a glance at Wes, someone he had always considered a big brother. “When I found him, they had ripped-nevermind. I’ll spare you the details, but he managed to hide some of his papers in a place only I knew to look for them. Clandestine hiding spots are rather a standard operating procedure in a watcher’s house. The report of the German incident was there along with a hastily scribbled note telling me there was a traitor in the watcher’s council—That they had tried to recruit him. They said his expertise was necessary. From the name I was given, I tracked their activities to the factory in Newcastle. Those people who had kept you in captivity, we are as of yet unsure of their leadership but we do know that they have been responsible for a good amount of kidnappings over the last year.”

Neither vampire nor slayer had relaxed.

“It was I who shut down the power the night I believe you escaped. I called Wes as soon as my father died. He’s been helping me gather some intelligence about Genesis. We meant only to do so momentarily so I could introduce a Trojan,” At their blank looks Raj continued. “It’s a kind of computer virus. I meant the disruption only to be a flicker of the lights but something blew and we had to get out of there. I didn’t know that they had you until I heard their wet works crew discussing the slayer. I jammed their tracking signals, but by the time we made it to your location you had gone and their team had destroyed your hotel room. And you are not easy people to find.”

Spike smirked.

“S’standard operating procedure.” He said. “How’d you finally manage it then?"

“I tried.” He mumbled. Next to him Wes grinned triumphantly.

“That was leg work on my part.” He said. “You two have created quite the disturbance in demon circles trapezing around cemeteries and chatting about the slayer.“ He was quick, however, to respond to Buffy’s stricken look “thankfully, I doubt your pursuers would be well versed in the London Undergound.”

“I thought the Undergound was the subway.”

“Er yes, but in this case The Underground is what the Watcher’s paper pushers call demon circles. Not in the least because most of the establishments are in fact underground.”

Buffy shrugged. “So, So we weren’t keeping the lowest profile, but we’re leaving soon. Right Spike?”

“Right.” The vampire answered her, but his eyes were on the former watcher. Clearly he wasn’t focused on their slapdash plans. “Oxford, You’re here for a reason, yeah? Not just bending our ears about some story of who’s followin’ us. What did you have in mind?”

Wesley studied Spike intently. Angel had told him stories of the bleached blond vamp, that he was brutal, effective and brash. The man in question however was neither bleached blond nor the brute Angel and Cordy’s stories made him out to be. Although he could believe the brutal part.

“I came at Raj’s behest. When he told me about his father things got a little more personal. We went to Newcastle we were looking for “the package” it must be their version of the Holy Grail. Or at least that’s what their intercepted communiqués are saying.” He explained. “Now all that chatter has changed. It seems The Package they were talking about is in Germany but now they intend to move it. While the lights were out, Raj downloaded as many files as he could onto his machine. It’s a lot to wade through, but some of the digital communication has indicated the Package is there now. I think it’s imperative that we found out what it so precious to them. Maybe we can surmise their motives and leadership from there.” He leaned forward in his seat steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I had thought that you would welcome the chance to sabotage Genesis’s plans in anyway. I don’t know what the package is. But we cannot let them get their hands on it. From what they are saying, it would be providing them with immeasurable power.” He paused. He had thought both vampire and slayer would be gunning to get back at the people, who had them, but Buffy had gone white as a sheet and Spike kept glancing at her and fidgeting. Whatever Genesis had done it must have been worse than he had ever thought. Wesley pushed down his own concern and tried to ignore the bubble of hatred he already had for Genesis and their goons. “I understand that you’ve been through quite an ordeal. I assumed you would want to do something about it. We’re old hat at this, Buffy, we’ve been in danger before, I’ve seen you deal with the end of the world. Raj and I know how their systems work and have inroads in their operations. We simply aren’t suited to the actual infiltration. It exploded in our face the last time that we tried.”

The silence was broken by a chirp of a cell phone. Raj quickly checked his phone and grimaced.

“We have a slight problem.” He announced. “The Gen Techs have figured out where I am. There’s noise on all channels about infiltration and finding me. If they get on it they’ll track my phone to this address, I would set up a remote server but I need my stuff at home for that.” He snapped the lap top shut. “I have the details of the arrival of their “Package” but to access them I need my desktop. They’ve got my number and they’re going to send a wet works team, though. I’m sure of it.”

Buffy frowned. “Can you track them on that thingy?”

“If they are using frequency comms yes. Mobile phones no.” he said. “I’ve got the scanner set up on my mobile but there’s no wireless here so I can’t connect.”

“Right, well” Wes said clearing his throat “As much as I would like to give you time to think this over, we have to get moving. I suppose we could find a blanket for--”

“Please.” Spike replied with an eye roll. “The street outside the place’s been in the shadow since noon. S’why there are so many vamps in London little streets means it’s easy to get around. Weather permitting.”

Wesley smiled, he’d never known Angel to move about in daylight. Usually the 250 year old vampire liked to keep to the sewers or just get around at night. Angel was not one to be resourceful about his limitations Spike’s problem solving was a welcome change.

“Well, its’ dripping now.” He said. “Which means we can take the car. Shall we?”

Buffy glanced at Spike in askance. Spike nodded once. They had not had much of a plan. With Wes and his friend they could find out a little bit more on that Genesis project who had them and then blow off the brothers and wreak some havoc. But Buffy still wanted to be sure Spike was in. He shrugged into his duster. Survival mode meant that all the important things were close at hand at all times. Buffy took a little time to run upstairs and throw her meager belongings into a pillow case before they were heading out the door. Wes was saying something about the black car on the corner being their ride.

“Six minutes out.” Raj warned. Pushing the group a little faster. Buffy heard Spike mutter a curse and push past Wes to reach the small black car ahead of them. The vampire got in behind the wheel. Wes, to his credit didn’t even check his pocket and slid into the front seat while Buffy and Harry got into the back.
“You don’t think they’ll find it suspect that some car is pealing out of dodge right when they are arriving?”

“Basic strategy, watcher-boy.” Spike said maneuvering out of the parking spot with one hand. ”If your enemies know where you are then don’t be there. It doesn’t matter how many of them there are. They’ll be more than us.”

“Can you monitor them from anywhere?” Buffy asked Raj. Having technology was new to her, The Scooby gang had always depended on Giles’s library more than anything else—except for that one time with the rocket launcher. She had no idea what the limits were, but she was starting to see some of the benefits of it.

Raj shook his head. “Not with this level of equipment, unfortunately. Sorry.”

“But they can find you?”

“No, they found out I was downloading form their closed network so they know this computer’s-er-signature for lack of a better term.” Raj replied sharply. “I shut it down but they know that I was at your apartment so they’ll send someone here—they don’t know whoose apartment this is. I don’t know if they can track me while I’m moving, but I can’t use this mobile as a link anymore. Dammit! I’m sorry! I had a breakthrough this morning and must not have covered my tracks properly!”

Wes shook his head.

“It’s alright, Devraj.” He said taking care to be sure Raj calmed down. “We didn’t expect to have that advantage.”

Spike snorted. He made a few sudden turns some without signaling, but always kept his driving as inconspicuous as he could. After a few moments the rest of the car started to pay attention.

“At some point, Oxford, you are going to have to tell me where to head.”

“Where are we?” asked Wes.

“That’s comforting,” Buffy teased, trying to lighten the mood. “Aren’t you supposed to be knowledge man? I don’t want to be depending on Spike.”

Wesley was still studying his surrounding when he addressed her problem. “I don’t know this part of London very well. But it doesn’t matter. “We have to get out of the city. I’ve holed up in Hampstead Heath. We should stop for provisions and then we intercept The Package.”

“And where are we going to do that?” Asked Buffy as Spike turned onto a highway. Buffy tried not to watch, it was unsettling to have the cars coming in the wrong direction.

“Germany.”
End Notes:
I could actually use a little help with 2000 era tech jargon so if anyone wants to PM with any mistakes I make and I can adjust accordingly.
Chapter 6 - A Picnic at Hampstead by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi everyone! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. I am trying to make it all as detailed as possible as I tend to gloss on action scenes but this chapter and the next few are packed which is why they are taking a while but I'll have the next one up much faster I promise.

But I'm really excited about this one and the next few so stay tuned!
Chapter Six – A Picnic at Hampstead

“This is me, making with the spylife.” Buffy said with a grin. “Black beanie and everything.”

“Yeah,” Raj’s voice came over the earpiece. “Don’t go 00 on us just yet, you still don’t understand radio silent until the go signal.”

“Spoilsport.” Buffy replied with a scowl. “You could come out here and wait in the bushes for the signal to dodge the armed guards and break into a secret torture porn emporium.”

“If I did I would wear sensible trainers and not clomp around in those boots.”

“Don’t you criticize my footwear! I’ve been doing this since I was fifteen.”

“You going to come over here, Summers? I’m shaking in my soundless and comfortable reeboks.”

“Oi, gadget, Slayer, would you two stop buzzing in my ear for your pointless bloody back and forth?” Spike’s voice came out as a low hiss. “I’m trying to listen to heart beats. S’bad enough with the bloody ear piece hummin’ like a bloody flowerchild.”

“Now children let’s try and pretend we’re a team here?” Wes’s voice sounded over the ear pieces, clearly trying to hide the chuckle.

Spike was prowling the perimeter, while Buffy checked to make sure the entrance was only manned by the two guards. The relative ease in the implementation of Wesley’s plan put Buffy on instant alert, if this package they had talked about was so precious why were only a few guards taking care of it? Wes had countered that this was a top-secret stop before bringing whatever it was to the main facility in Newcastle-which was why they had to hit it here before it was moved to the UK.

“I wouldn’t ask you to go back there.” he had said.

To her eternal shame Buffy was relieved when he had said that. Much as she wanted to be able to smash her way back into the place that had kept her on a metal slab doing experiments on her body, the thought of going anywhere near that place made her insides turn cold and her stomach drop to her feet. Wesley had looked at her with her with all the pity he valiantly tried to hide. Another Buffy, the Buffy he knew, probably would have knocked that pity right off of his face; instead she had just ignored it. Now she was waiting in the bushes while Spike cased the joint.

“I can hear 10 distinct heartbeats, maybe 12.” Spike’s voice buzzed over the comms.

“Right.” Wesley replied, his voice held a small tremor of worry.

“More than you expected? Getting’ in position now. Gimme a mo.”

“Not really. But I had hoped there would be less. Is that manageable?”

“Slayer?”

Buffy nodded before realizing they couldn’t see her. “Should be okay. God speaking over these things is weird. Cool. But weird. It’s hard not to feel initiative-y.”

Spike sighed. “Slayer, stop your yapping and take out the guard so I can get in there.”

Muttering under her breath about ungrateful vampires Buffy made her way to the guard. She had been gunning for a fight from the second Wesley said he had come up with the plan, but he had insisted that the less time she took the better. So with a roll of her eyes so the boys knew she did not approve of this plan she tapped the shoulder of the guard and as he was looking around knocked him out cold. Sure, it was simple and clean and efficient, it was also boring. Weren’t spy plans supposed to be exciting?

“All set” she said simply, taking her place in front of the doors. “Open sesame.”

She didn’t hear Raj type anything down but the door swung open in front of her. The slayer mumbled a thank you she raised her foot to step over the threshold and was thrown 10 feet back. Spike was at her side in a second. Just as alarms started blaring.

“So much for easy.” She accepted his hand and pulled herself up.

He hovered over her until he was sure she was okay—she was complaining which was a good sign. He turned his attention back to the building. Trying to see if there was any outward sign of enchantment. “Initiative with a little hocus pocus at their disposal—bloody buggering fuck. Oxford, get down here. We’re going to need to work this out.”

“What do I do?”

“You Run.” Spike said. “You’re going to draw them away from here.”

“Them?”

Spike jerked towards to entrance of the facility just as he hid behind the heavy door several guards turned the corner. Buffy took off like a shot.



*****


Prasad’s father had kept a townhouse in a suburban part of London. He had left Raj the key as soon as he smelled something fishy.It was pretty large, not imposing, just another in a row of suburban dwellings. It reminded Buffy of the bits she had passed on her way into London the first time rows of smaller houses all in dark stone surrounded by hedges. Spike had gone a round about way of it so despite his breakneck speed and nausea inducing turns it had still taken them nearly an hour to arrive.

The house was warm but not quite inviting. It looked like it had been furnished by someone’s grandmother. There were tea cozies and knitted things spread out on every visible surface standing at odds with all of Raj’s computer equipment and the trappings of a planning central hub. There were fast food wrappers strewn about and papers everywhere. Every available surface was covered with books and calendars and schedules. There was a huge piece of paper tacked up on one of the further walls with her name and the little information they could gather. Spike’s name was just SPIKE under WILLIAM THE BLOODY. Next to it had been a map of Germany with a date and time encircled, the writing next to it simply stated THE PACKAGE.

Raj sped to his computer. He said something unintelligible about what he was doing but it seemed important.

“Err, Can I get you anything?” Wesley said, clearly the gentleman in him was fighting to get out. “We don’t really have anything but if you want I can nip out for a tea or something.”

Spike smirked and strode passed him to pick up a half empty bottle of Whiskey. “This’ll do.”

He took a swig and held it out to Buffy who shook her head. Alcohol and slayers remained on the list of things that don’t go together. Wesley however took his own swig from the bottle.

“Well," he said with a smirk. "the family resemblance is quite remarkable.”

Spike had been poking about the bits and bobs covering the old fashioned dining set and the coffee table. His head shot up in response.

“Oi! What family resemblance?”

At Buffy’s warning look Wes raised his hands in surrender.

“Just drink choice is all.”

Spike walked up to Wesley, slowly, every step reminding the former watcher that he was dealing with an Aurelian Master vampire. He got right up in Wesley’s face and studied him carefully. The watcher did his very best not to balk, but heartbeats don’t lie and Wesley’s sounded like a machinegun. Buffy, who realized what Spike was doing almost immediately, rolled her eyes. Wesley’s gaze cut to the newly brunette slayer and Spike smirked. He sniffed and curled his tongue against his teeth, amused at his ability to inspire fear. “How is ol’ Grandpappy?”

Wesley sighed; he took another swig of his whiskey and collapsed into a chair. “Devastated.” He said simply. “We were just returning from a parallel dimension when we heard Buffy had died. Now he’s on a retreat in Sri Lanka.”

Spike arched en eyebrow. “Sri Lanka?”

“A monastery there.” Wes supplied.

Buffy frowned and examined a small shepherdess statue very closely. “I guess it was too much to hope for that maybe he came to Sunnydale to help guard the hellmouth.”

"Course not." Spike said with a derisive snort. "Not when the ponce has feelings to sort though."

Wes frowned. It felt disloyal to agree with Spike's assessment of Angel, but he didn't disagree with him per se.

“He thought you were dead Buffy, they all did. Do.” He said. “When Giles heard a new slayer had been called he was devastated. He was muttering something about old glory days.”

“Glory days?” The porcelain figurine Buffy was toying with was forgotten in an instant.

Wesley shrugged trying to remember the conversation as best he could but it had not made very much sense to him. “Something about you being the only one who had glory or possibly glory only had you and now she had nothing? I don’t know. I remember your banter being difficult to understand when I was in Sunnydale, but Giles must truly have gone native in his days of leisure.”

That seemed to placate Buffy, she regarded the comment with studied disinterest. Spike considered her carefully for a minute. He saw the immediate change in her demeanor. He knew her well enough now to note that something about that comment was important. He filed it away to discuss with her later. Possibly much later. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground here. Someone from home could either make her feel better, empowered maybe, or it could make her fly apart at the seams. The vampire could tell by her racing heartbeat and the nonchalance with which she asked her questions that she was trying with all her might not to alert either of them that anything was the matter.

But as loaded as that question was, the one the slayer asked next made both men pause. Spike stepped closer to the slayer his whole body tense; it looked like the falling apart option was going to win out.

“Wesley, Do you-Have you-- maybe heard anything about my mom?”

Wesley’s posture was more relaxed. He smiled at her kindly, glad to be able to give her at least this little bit of good news. “It was touch and go for a while but she managed to pull through. Last I heard of it she was in remission.”

That managed to get a rise out of her. There were tears in her eyes when she smiled.

“When was that?”

“Just a few weeks ago. She and your sister have gone to see your aunt in Chicago.” Wes said. “Giles keeps me abreast of the goings on in Sunnydale—you know just in case. They’ve also dealt with a potential apocalypse. But since the slayer was the key the threat went to Cleveland to find the new slayer. It was a ruse that I fell for also when I got the call from Raj I thought I was coming after a new slayer or Faith maybe, I didn’t dream that if was you I was coming here to see. I’m so very sorry. I would have tried to find out more to tell you if I had.”

Buffy glanced around the room and did her best to push down the pang of homesickness that just knifed through her. This place reminded her so much of Giles’s apartment whenever they needed a research central. Even the tea and the smell of old books and paper made her want to curl up into a ball pre-slayer-Buffy-style and just wallow in the misery and unfairness of everything. Even Wesley’s voice made her feel like any minute Xander and Willow would burst through the door rattling on about a new spell or a zany new plan to get rich and she would be home again.

“So” she said fighting to keep her voice level. “Your plan.” She walked over to far wall that held the paper with all the details on it. “Gimme the skinny.”

The plan consisted of Raj using his previous ins and knowledge of their protocols to hack their system, and the Buffy and Spike fighting their way into the middle of the complex where Genesis was holding the mysterious package, while Wesley would handle anything mystical that might arise. There wasn't anything at Newcastle, but Wes was worried they may have learned from that mistake. Wes and Raj apparently had someone on the inside who he trusted that had given him the lay of the land. Buffy hadn’t asked Wes where he had gotten travel papers for them, but he had produced them from under a pile of old leather bound books.

“So you really have no idea what this package-thingy is?”

The former watcher shook his head.

“We have a few theories,” Wesley said. “But nothing concrete, I’m afraid. I was thinking that its something very mystical in nature. The noise on the scanners had a lot to do with other dimensions. I’ve had some experience to that regard. I’m thinking that they have some sort of talisman or key to get through to another dimension, to pursue god knows what.” he grinned. “We intend to steal it. Which is why we had to rush the timeline. They’re moving it.”

Spike nodded sagely, Buffy looked at him like he had grown a second head.

“Okay so this just occurred to me. You went from Princess Margaret to Mission Impossible!” she said. “I guess LA has been good to you then?”

Wesley managed a sheepish grin remembering his time with Buffy in Sunnydale. Not the best years of his life, he had to admit.

“It’s something about the lack of weather.” He acknowledged. “and the occasional demon rampage.”

“And the demon-fighting with Angel, anything like Sunnydale?” Buffy question was innocent but it held a slight tinge of a challenge.
Spike immediately looked up from his poking around and glanced at the watcher to see if he would rise to the bait.

“It’s different at some points.” Wes replied eyeing the slayer a little suspiciously. She had seemed so fragile not minutes ago and now he was unsure what she was going to do next. For a second he wondered how Spike did it. “I have come to enjoy it though. It’s fulfilling.”

“Any apocalypses under your belt yet?”

“Several mystical prophesies, we’re trying something a little more personal.”

“So a no on the apocalypses then?” Buffy teased, she cracked a sly smile and all the men in the room relaxed visibly. Each one unsure if she would start a fight or have a good cry, neither were good options. “Even Spike’s averted one of those.”

“Oi! Two! Don’t tell me that Adam guy would not have wreaked some apocalyptic havoc.”

“Oh we have done our own share of havoc,” Wesley countered with an answering smile. “But let’s not get me started on foreign dimensions-”

“Wow!” Raj cut in. “I’m going to go ahead and interrupt possibly the strangest pissing contest in ever. Much as the two of you want o compare apocalyptic scrap books or whatever. We do have a lot of work to do. I’m starting to hear a lot of noise on the channels and I am trying to make sure they haven’t found my in.”

Spike smirked and peered at the numbers on the screen. “M’ glad you can make heads or tails of this stuff, boy-wonder. Knew this whole thing was going to explode years ago. Tried to learn a thing or two about them but it just wasn’t in the cards.”

Raj looked embarrassed for a moment and then turned his attention back to what he was doing.

Wesley smiled proudly at Raj. He had known the younger man since he was a boy himself and Ravi had been around the house more often than not. Ravi was always kinder to Wesley than Roger ever was, it was Ravi Wesley told when he was first assigned to a slayer. When Raj had come to him years later as Wes was rising in ranks through the council, he had tried to convince Wes that the council needed to modernize, but that didn’t go over too well with the higher ups. And to Wes’s eternal shame he had not backed his friend in favor of trying to impress his own joke of a father. So when he got the call from his old friend he didn’t hesitate to jump on the first flight to Heathrow he could find. Ravi had been a mentor and Wes had already let Raj down once.

Raj had put his full concentration on his monitors for a few minutes but when he looked up everyone was standing as still as they could. He shook his head.

“You don’t have to stop breathing.” He said rolling his eyes. “it’s not like they can hear you.” Both men straightened shrugging off the impulse to be as silent as possible. Spike harrumphed and took a swig off the whiskey. Buffy rolled her eyes. “These two blokes I expected to be dinosaurs but I thought they taught you about this in school, Buffy.”

The slayer shrugged, “Computer class was the one class Giles didn’t get all lecture-y about missing.”

“Watchers.” Raj said dismissively. "One of my professors at the academy actually advocated getting rid of the electricity in the dorms so we could get a better feel for the people who wrote the books he taught. Some bollocks about learning to read by candlelight."

Buffy grinned, remembering for the first time that Raj was about the same age as her. "Tell me about it." she said. "Giles would have definitely tried to make me do that if I wasn't so enthusiastic about fire."

That fire comment made Raj pause for a second. "And to think Rupert Giles was know for being the great innovator and rebel."

He chuckled at Buffy's incredulous look. But the slayer quickly mulled the information over."I guess that is right, I have seen him rocking the jeans once or twice."

That made Raj laugh. "You should have seen the look my dad gave me when I suggested he try a pair of those." Raj said. "I'll probably try agai-" He stopped and looked embarrassed. The room suddenly got very quiet. It was pretty clear that he hadn't meant to talk so offhandedly. His father was gone, he just hand to remember that all over again. Buffy frowned and reached out to touch him. But Wes shook his head and she backed off.

“Look I’ve got to concentrate on this for a while." Raj said snapping himself out of his momentary stupor. "I’ve got a lot of coding to do and Simon just sent me some intel I have to de-crypt. Wes, why don’t you show Spike and Buffy their rooms?”

Wes nodded and jerked his head towards the stair case. Upstairs was also a little musty and old-fashioned. There were a few rooms branching off from the main hallway. After explaining the final door was the bathroom, Wes gestured to the two doorways on the right.

“These are for you.” He said. “We knew we were going to find a slayer and a vampire, originally we were just going to chain up the vamp somewhere,” Spike glowered at him, and Wesley momentarily braced for some sort of outburst, but the vampire said nothing. “but under the circumstances it seems a little er-rude. So I’ll take the couch downstairs.”

Spike froze. Wesley was offering to say on the couch to allow him to have a good night's sleep. And he was thinking nothing of it. He had moved on to tell Buffy about the large tub in the bathroom down the hall.
“You don’t have to do that, watcher.”

“I haven’t been on the run for weeks. I can handle a crick in my neck for a night.” Wes replied waving Spike's concern aside.

Spike considered him carefully. He had heard stories from Giles about the “other watcher” thus far Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was not measuring up to be the nancy-boy Giles made him out to be. Spike nodded, unsure how to handle this level of civility from a scooby. Buffy on the other hand shook her head violently.

“No, a world of no, Wes.” She said. “You are going to need your rest too. for tomorrow. Besides Spike is all grr and I don’t want him out of my sight.”

Her words hit Spike in the gut. How could she? They had been fighting together for weeks, healing together slowly and of course the second someone from Sunnyhell pokes their head around the corner she’s all quick to shove him away and point fingers. Spike was unable to quell the wounded look he shot her, but it disappeared when she saw how wide her eyes were. Wide and scared and Buffy was trying valiantly to play it off. She wasn’t trying to imply she didn’t trust him. Not to him anyway. She was trying to ensure that both of them would get a good night’s sleep.

"He'll stay with me."

Wesley’s eyes cut from the vampire to the slayer. There was definitely some sort of non-verbal communication going on. He was glad that Raj had called him, there is no way they would ever have been able to trust him if he had found them on his own. It was only his ties to the Scooby gang that had allowed the former blond pair to let down their guard. And it seems they had not let it down too far.

“Right, of course,” Spike said with what he intended to sound like a resigned sigh. "ensuring the safety of kids and little puppies. I know the drill." He nodded at her to confirm he understood. She relaxed measurably. “You go on ahead and take that bath, pet. I promise not to kill any watchers while you’re not around.”

Buffy did not need to be told twice. She flashed Wesley a bright smile and bolted down the hall toward the bathroom.

“There should be towels and things.” Wesley called after her, and then he turned to Spike and said. “Working with Cordelia has been quite an insight into how women cope with trauma.”

Spike heard her sigh of pleasure as she found some pharmacy store bubble bath Wesley had had the foresight to purchase.

"I'm surprised she wasn't on the first plane home." Wes said.

“Yeah, well I convinced her that was a great plan for getting her little scooby gang killed. S’why she hasn’t made contact with her mum, her watcher, kid sister. I know how these people operate. They found her once if she shows up there they will use her family as leverage against us." He seemed to notice that he had included himself in that circle and was quick to add: "Her. Against her. I don’t really care one way or another.” He said.

Wesley nodded though he didn't believe the vampire. It was clear something hand changed between Buffy and Spike. He wasn't sure what it was.

“What did they do to you over there, Spike?”

The vampire’s put upon swagger, which had been a permanent fixture since Wesley had known him vanished in an instant. The cockiness, oddly, was a little disarming; it made Spike seem more human. But right now Spike’s more brutal side, the one he heard about came right up to the fore front. There was no mistaking who and what he was even though he did nothing, just stood in the hall, his entire demeanor changed.

“It’s not something I really want to get into.”

Wes was a little unsure whether to push, but in the end couldn't resist.

“Because their name does hint at-”

“I know what the name means, watcher.”

“I’m not a watcher.”

The steel in Wesley’s voice got Spike’s attention. He smirked at little bit. No, not all nancy-boy. This one had stones.

“Know what the name means. Been thinking about it since you said something.” He said. “I had thought they were just torturin’ me. Seeing what makes a vampire go tick tock. But it’s clearly something else.”

“So what was your plan? Before we found you?”

“Figured we would run for a bit and then when we couldn’t stand it anymore come in guns bloody blazing. Your plan is better.”

They stood in almost companionable silence for a moment.

“I could use a drink.” Wesley said gesturing to the room he had been using while he was in London. “Any interest?”

“Thought you’d never ask, Oxford.”

They sat in Wesley’s room and Wes put out rocks glasses for them.

“So.” The watcher began awkwardly. “Have you spoken to Buffy about it?”

He wasn’t sure why he said that. He half expected Spike to pounce, clearly the vampire was considering it. But he held his ground, Spike wouldn’t do anything to him with Buffy just a few rooms away and this was important. He was a little surprised when Spike actually answered him.

“Oxford, the slayer, if she’s good at anything, its denial. Denial and slaying things. If I force her to think about something that she banished from that pretty head of hers, I could be on the receiving end of the latter part of those talents. The things we’ve been through, well, M’ not going to rehash any of those things unless I’m sure they live up to their name. Or if I’m sure they don’t.”

“You don’t think she deserves to know?”

Spike sighed.

“I’m no going to rip your throat out because she seems to like you but you haven’t the foggiest what it was like there. S’one thing to read about it, bein’ there, that’s a whole nother game of cricket. I’ve been tortured before. She hasn’t. She’s barely holdin’ it together, I’m not going to force her to think about it unless there’s a bloody good reason and that’s the last of it. You bring this up with her and I’ll drink from your brain stem, chip or no chip.”

“Chip?”

Spike made a vague gesture with his whiskey glass.

“Microchip in my head goes off every time I hurt a human.” He shrugged. He expected Wesley to press for details but the watcher just grimaced and took a drink of his whiskey. They sat in companionable silence for a little while both men lost in their thoughts.

At first Wesley was inclined to take any opportunity to dust the vamp but he had given them no opening until Buffy’s arrival. Once Buffy was around it was imminently clear that dusting Spike would accomplish nothing more than being beaten to a pulp and removing Buffy’s lifeline. That was if he could dust Spike. Angel rarely spoke about his time as part of the group known as the Whirlwind. The Scourge of Europe, but Wes knew about Spike from studying up on the archives.

“I’ve heard of you , Spike.”

“As’ve I, Oxford.”

His wicked grin disclosed everything he didn’t say. Sunnydale was not something Wesley was proud of.

“Nothing flattering I trust?”

The vampire chuckled and shook his head.

“Not at that.” He acknowledged lifting his glass to Wesley’s poncey reputation. “You rattled Rupes right proper, though. After you blew through the hellmouth he got a lot less—” he paused searching for the word. “tweedy”

“I think I was an unflattering reflection.” Wesley said wryly taking a sip of his drink. “From what I’ve heard about you, you’re the slayer or slayers and yet here I find you doing everything but. So I suppose you can’t trust everything you hear.”

Spike’s smirked. He didn’t bother to refute anything his drinking companion said but Wesley was eyeing him carefully. When blue eyes met hazel the watcher raised a challenging eyebrow. The vampire burst out laughing.

“You know what, mate?” He said. “I think we’re going to get on just fine.”


*****


Buffy had spent the last two hours sitting on her bed and making a huge effort not to pick up a phone and call her mother. She could hear Spike and Wesley talking in the room next to her but she refused to be weak and stupid. She wanted to go and not be sitting here in her room alone. The stupid room was doing that annoying thing where the lack of noise was making stupid echoing drone-y sounds.

No. No she was not going into that room to feel like an idiot no matter how panicky being alone made her feel. She was a warrior, dammit and she was not going to let that stupid place take that away from her. So she sat on her bed on her hands and did her best not to think about it. It was a losing battle from the start and just when Buffy felt like she couldn’t take it anymore, she reached for the suds and headed down the hall for a good soak. Spike’s flat had been tiny and while there was a shower and showers were great, there was no tub. Whoever trained Wes to find things like this was clearly an angel sent by whoever it was up there than ran things. Then again it was probably Cordy.

It had been so long since Buffy had last had a good bath like this. She could hear some of the other stuff happening in the house and for a little while she tried to block everything out, but she found that hearing the muffled voices was oddly comforting. It reminded her that there were people around, people who would look out for her. Possibly. Frowning she did her best to keep her thoughts from going dark places and facility places, even happy places made her ache to call her mother and make her way back to home and normal life. Well, as normal as her life ever was.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat soaking in the tub. But focusing on the heat of the water put her in some sort of zen mode. It felt good. Really good actually to not think about anything. She knew Wesley was there too. And then there was Raj. She didn’t really know him but Wes vouched for him. They were all nearby and none of them wanted to kill her. And Spike was here. Spike was down the hall and if she made a peep, if she called out he would be in there in a second. She didn't know why she trusted that, but she did.
For the first time in ages, She let herself relax. Even when it was just her and Spike, she could never really uncoil completely. She was constantly holding it together, constantly thinking about being recaptured, constantly worrying about her friends back home, knowing she couldn’t contact them to find out what the fall out of her death could have been like for them.

Much as she didn’t want to be thinking about it, it all came crashing down on her. They thought she was dead. She wanted to be devastated but surprisingly she was relieved. That was a little piece of closure for them and if they were not loose ends then they would not be targeted by those sadists at the facility. Except she didn't have to call it that now. They had a name: The Genesis Project. Buffy shuddered and dunked her head in the almost too hot water. They wouldn’t touch her family, not if they couldn’t hold it over her, not if she was not with them. Her painfully normal mother was of no use to them. And she was in remission which meant she could care for Dawn.

Dawn.

Without Buffy around Glory had no link to her key. She could now have to start from zero and hopefully all her minions would be spread too thin to do any damage. She could have Wesley find out from Giles, she would have to tell him eventually, tell Spike too eventually, but right now she didn’t have to do anything. So for the first time in what felt like a lifetime Buffy let it all go and let her mind wander aimlessly her thoughts flitted around from in consequential things like what she wanted to eat to what she wanted to wear from her limited wardrobe or even what she wanted to watch on the tiny TV she thought she spied behind one of the planning white boards.

She wasn’t sure how long she spent zoning out but it felt like just a few moments before Spike called her down for a pseudo-scoobie meeting.

Ten minutes later Buffy had padded downstairs, façade of Buffy-okayness firmly in place. She wouldn’t fool Spike, but Raj and Wesley seemed to buy it. Once Wes started outlining the plan, the crumbling façade of Buffy-okay-ness stopped crumbling so badly. The last few weeks had been good for her to gain back some slayer strength but it wasn’t until the moment Raj handed her a little piece of silicone to put in her ear did she feel like she could actually put the slayer pieces back together. Even having Wesley there was a welcome reminder of her abilities rather than the straw that broke the back of Buffy’s home-sick containment camel.

Wow. Her analogies were getting really weird; the whirl-wind of the last 24-odd hours was actually getting to her. There was a little too much conjecture in their plan for her liking, but Buffy was accustomed to improvising. They went through blue prints and Raj had spouted something about networking and LAN. Buffy yawned through it, and Spike finally told Wesley to can it and went with her upstairs.
He slid into bed beside her. There were no nightmares that night.



*****


Then there was little time to think as they made arrangements for Germany and before Buffy knew it she was staring down the facility. The adrenaline felt good, amazing actually, she hadn’t been this pumped since she and Spike fled that other place on this time it felt right. Almost good even.

The alarm had been a great big wakeup call though. Their luck had run out.

She could hear Raj in her ear assuring them that it was not a technical alarm. Which left the mystical factor that Wes had hoped would be basic at a temporary holding facility like this one. Spike barked at her to run and she was off.

She registered vaguely the conversation Wes and Spike were having. She could hear the men pursuing her. She wondered why they had gone after her and not taken Spike out, but she didn’t have much energy to expend on waste on thinking like that. Thankfully, evasive maneuvers had been drilled into her feet since day one of slayer training. There were four men after her. She could distinguish each foot pattern.

She switched direction again just as she heard a bang and a little ruffage to her left cracked and fell to the ground. Guns. Great.

She heard Wes giving her directions the gist of which was too lose the tail and meet at the van. The alarm had spooked her but she wasn’t totally panicked. She could hear Spike reassuring her that everyone who had passed him had a heartbeat. Once that had registered she tuned it out completely Buffy spared no other thought than to idly wonder what the range of the comms were.
Chapter 7 - The Package by Petra
Author's Notes:
See? I told you it would be much quicker! Thanks for waiting guys and keep the reviews coming--they encourage chapters!
Chapter Seven – the Package

Once the goons were gone Spike stepped out from behind the heavy door. He took a moment to study the facility, the barrier was not the Initiative’s MO—so that was an up and up. Anything mystical had been abominable to them—god bless their little corn-fed hearts. Spike scanned the area as he waited for Wesley to arrive. He couldn’t smell anything and his keen sense of sight was a little hampered by the fluorescents. He put his own hand up against the magical barrier and felt nothing.


Odd.

He was about to step though the barrier until he heard Wesley’s voice behind him.

“Don’t!” he said. “If it stopped Buffy but not you I believe it’s a salt circle protection spell.”

“A containment spell?” the vampire demanded.

“It’s meant to keep humans out and supernatural forces in, they must have thought that as a slayer Buffy would be allowed through as well and then trapped.” the former-watcher replied not even a little surprised Spike knew what he was talking about. “If you go in there I’m afraid you won’t be able to get out. Let me take a look at it.”

He examined the entrance, it looked for all purposes to be a normal, containment center, concrete walls, heavy protective door, but right at foot level: two hastily drawn protection runes were scribbled in marker. A protection spell to keep something in—curious. He turned to the vampire who was pacing restlessly back and forth.

“You think they knew we were coming?” Raj’s voice came through the comms.

Wesley shook his head.

“No, if they knew then they would have used something they knew Buffy could make it through in her condition. This looks likes it really is intended to keep something in.”


“Buffy’s condition?” Raj piped up over the airwaves. Neither man answered him.

“I think I know which spell they used.” Wesley said after a moment.

“Think you can you break it?” Spike demanded.


The watcher paused and then nodded.

“I can but it will take some time.”

“Then I’m going in for that package.”

“Spike, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get you out.”

“They had guns, watcher, and they’re running after her not shootin’. You and I know that she has something they want.” Spike said giving the watcher a meaningful look. “I’ll get the bloody package pass it over to you. Right now hurtin’ them is the most important thing. You concentrate on breaking that spell.”

“Spike, what if I can’t—”

The vampire glanced meaningfully at the nearby foliage and then turned his blue eyes back to the watcher. “Then you make sure that they don’t have a vampire to use as leverage.”

Before Wes could do anything else he turned his boot heel and ran into the facility.

“The familial resemblance is quite remarkable!!” Wesley shot after him. “It’s not all about disappearing in a whirl of leather you--You dramatic masochistic prat!”

The vampire turned for a moment, game face in place and gave him the two fingered salute before turned a corner and disappearing from the watcher’s view. Wesley cursed a mean streak about blaze of glory obsessed idiot vampires in the Aurelius line and ran back to the van to grab some ingredients yelling and Raj to start looking up salt circles in the watcher’s database.




*****



Spike ran through the halls following his instinct and his acute vampire hearing. If this Package was as important as Oxford and the Boy-wonder had made it out to be then any guards that were not out pursuing the slayer would be guarding that thing with their lives. Ever before he started the fight Spike steeled himself of the chip’s torture. The Genesis Project seemed to know this about him and only ever employed human guards and scientists. Or perhaps they were purists like the Initiative seeing anything supernatural as something sub human. Either way it was really becoming a pain in the arse.

Spike wasn't sure if Buffy was aware of what was going on, he reckoned she had no idea or she would be spitting venom and vinegar into her own mic demanding to know what Spike and Wesley were talking about. This would be the worst possible time and place for that particular discussion. Spike should have known the plan was too easy; too straightforward. They had to have learned from Spike and Buffy escaping the first time and it looked like they did, for all intent and purposes, while else create a magical barrier to keep things in?

Raj had been directing Spike. Spike was rather impressed with the boy, he was managing to juggle the map of the facility while simultaneously searching for some sort of procedure to break the spell.

“Turn left.” Raj said. “Oh shit, I mean right!”

“Prasad I know 6 different ways to skin you!”

Competent as he was, Raj had been in a panic since the alarm had started going, on the other hand Wesley it seemed was just getting calmer and calmer the more dire their situation seemed to be.

“Now, now, Spike, no need for that.”

“You’re next, Oxford!”

“Just keep searching, Spike.” Wes instructed. “Raj is going to take advantage of the distraction. And leave some more intelligence gathering insects.”

“Bugs.” Raj corrected.

“So really your capture and death and Buffy’s subsequent hate of me for killing her only strong ally will not be in vain.”


At the back of his mind Spike had time to affirm that Wesley Wyndham Pryce was definitely not living up to Giles’s assessment.


“When did you become so accustomed to violence, Oxford?”

“You’ve seen us fight Cambridge, I trust? Never underestimate a Dark Blue!.”

The vampire rolled his eyes. There must be something they put in the Sunnydale water, or the Slayer gang training, the worse off the situation, the most often they quip.

“It’s no wonder grandpappy left,” Spike muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Never you mind."

Wesley was about to question him further when Spike turned a corner and found half a dozen men guarding an otherwise unremarkable door. He did his best to ignore the chip fire as he jumped into the fray making quick work of the first guard snapping his neck and throwing him into his companions. Unlike in the movies soldiers never attack one by one allowing their enemy to recover. These were no different. They did their best to gang up on the vampire, a few tried guns but those didn’t even slow Spike down. Three hung back to reload with what Spike could only guess where some sort of special bullet. One finished while Spike traded blows with his two unit members but Spike dodged each and then pulled one of the guards prone in between him and his teammate. The next for shots sunk right in his torso. Spike tossed him aside and charged intending to wrench the gun from one of the guard’s grasp. He was pushing past the pain of the chip going off, but he could already feel it getting overwhelming. It started as an irritating buzz which quickly progressed to a little cut made by a red hot poker dipped in acid. Dislocating the guards arm in an attempt for the weapon seemed to be enough to put him over the edge though. The chip fired so hard that Spike felt it shoot though his skull and he saw stars dance in front of his eyes.

The final three took that opportunity to try their shot.

Spike managed to get a few good blows in but finally one of them managed to get a clean shot of him and it tore through his shoulder. He roared and swiped his current opponent aside in animalistic rage. He grabbed his attacker and brutally ripped out his jugular staining his face with blood. He felt it go through his mind like a hot knife through warm butter. The world danced around him and somewhere far away Spike felt a mosquito bite of sharp pain 600 miles away. With his head swimming Spike fought to keep his wits about him there was still one trained and capable guard. A capable guard with a stake in his hand and vampire in so much pain he couldn’t get his brain to tell his arms or legs to move. He braced himself for a blow that never came and let go.

He hated himself for failing the slayer. Hated that he would not be able to help her move one. Hated that he would not be there to give her the news he wasn’t sure if she’d take well.

Two seconds and an eternity later he felt someone shaking him awake. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was standing over him holding a fire extinguisher.

“Bout time you jumped in the fray, Oxford.”




*****



Wesley was cursing Spike as he scrolled through the lap top’s database to find the ingredients to make the potion that could break the protection and containment spell. He wasn’t sure how to do it, usually one would just break the circle by shoving the salt aside, but the salt seemed to have seeped into the concrete or something creating the unbreakable invisible barrier. There were many ways to break the containment spells but those protection runes were common and the only way to tell them apart was to break them—which involved trial and error and time that they just didn’t have. Bickering with Spike wasn’t helping either, but the quips came so naturally that Raj kept giving him funny looks.

Wesley felt the time ticking away and was very close to just trying every remedy they got as fast as they could hoping something would stick but, suddenly Raj’s babbling which, Wes had tuned out as best he could, cut through the former-watcher’s haze of concentration.

“How do they do it?” demanded Raj. “How do the others get though?? The guards and maintenance people and the techs? They’re all human. How do they do it? a talisman? or some sort of amulet?"

“I wish it were as simple as that. Even if it were, we’re not going to have enough time. Buffy would need to get one from them and bring it over here and I have no way of ascertaining her current location.” Wesley said with a frown. Raj deflated, he had managed to install the tracker bugs and Spike had just found the holy of holies. Wes, however, seemed to come to some sort of conclusion on his own. “Right, I have a plan.”

“A plan?” Raj demanded.

“Well, the only thing we have in this van is C4 so let’s see if it’s enough force to break the circle.”

Despite using all the explosives they had in their possession the resulting explosion was underwhelming, it did, however, cause some damage the cement around the bulky door jamb. Wes crossed the barrier with no problem. He advised Raj to meet Buffy and the rendezvous and took off after Spike. The scuffle he could hear through the comm system was starting to get ugly.

Wes turned the corner and almost immediately slipped on blood. Spike was faced with just one more opponent, surrounded by the bodies of the others. The vampire stumbled; this chip he had told Wesley about that night they first arrived seemed to be taking its toll. Wes glanced around for a weapon and spotted a nearby extinguisher; he pulled it off the wall and took a running start. He swung the metal cylinder with all the force his momentum could muster, the guard went down.

“Bout time you jumped in the fray, Oxford.”

Wesley would have smiled if he wasn’t so alarmed at what the state of the vampire. He held out a hand and helped Spike to his feet, but as he tried to get under the vampire’s shoulder to prop him up Spike cried out. There was no way to jostle him without exacerbating one of his many injuries, so Wesley let him gain his balance, they didn’t have time to catalog every cut and bruise. He gestured to the door.

“Don’t suppose you have an idea to get through.” Spike said, “because I’m not going to be much help.”

“Backup is out chasing Buffy so we have a second to figure this out.”

Spike’s face darkened but before he could say anything he heard a scream from the other side of the door and something clicked at the back of his head. Inexplicably it was like a shot of adrenaline or slayer’s blood. Wes had to physically keep him from throwing himself into the door.

“I have another idea!” Wes exclaimed to placate the vampire.

He set the extinguisher off and aimed the spray of flame retardant chemicals on the door’s lock. It took a moment for him to get the right footing to kick the door open, it revealed a scientist with blue gloves injecting a teenaged girl who was struggling against two large orderlies. Spike’s rush of Adrenaline sent him straight into nurse number one. The chip fired so brutally that he nearly blacked out again.

The girl was skinny, dressed in jeans and a sweater and could not have been older than the slayer when Spike had first met her. He vaguely registered bright red hair before the ground rushed up to meet him.




******





Wesley didn’t see what was happening at the other side of the room. He took it upon himself to take the doctor out. Before the man in the white coat could reach, the former watcher adjusted the fire extinguisher in his grip and bashed his head aside baseball bat-style. He turned, expecting to see Spike taking the girl and running only to see the vampire sprawled on the floor.

“Spike!” Wes exclaimed, alarmed.

The girl had been staring at the vampire in alarm but Wes’s exclamation jolted her out of her split second reverie. She dodged one of the attempts nurse #2 made on strapping her back to the slab. And while the vampire had tried to take down Nurse # 1, he seemed to be coming two. The teenager was about a third the size of the nurses but it was clear she was a skilled fighter, much quicker than they were and knew how to use that to her advantage. A swift dodge sent #1 into #2 knocking his head on the side of the gurney. And then she dove under another attack from the last one standing only to use the wall to aid her jumping on his back. She brought her hands together and forced her elbow into a sensitive spot on his neck and the large black man went down. She managed to scramble off him in time and end up on her feet facing an astounded Wesley, who had taken advantage of the distraction to try and revive Spike.

It was worse than he thought, Spike had rivulets of blood seeping from every orifice on his face. Wesley wondered what the hell could have done something like that.

“You’re friend doesn’t look so good.” The girl yelled over the glaring alarm, neither of them was sure when that had started. She was walked around the room looking for something. It took her a second but she found a shallow tray holding a part of boots and her personal effects.

“No,” Wesley said grimly, He wasn’t sure how to check if Spike was still alive, there was no pulse, no breathing. Although, the vampire wasn’t dust, so there was that. “He does not.”
“How are we going to get him out of here?”

Wesley, a veteran when it came to Aurelian vampires biting off more than they could chew picked Spike up fireman style and gestured for the red head to precede him out the door.




*****





Back at the van Buffy was pacing and cussing out her former watcher as creatively and as loudly as she could. Her earpiece had been ripped out while she was losing her tail and she had no way to contact either of her companions. She was winded, which annoyed her since she shouldn’t be after something as mundane as running a mile or two. And Raj wouldn't tell her what was going on with Spike and Wes no matter how much bodily harm she threatened. Boy wonder was keeping their signals off police scanners and keeping all communication from leaving the network.

The deadline to rendezvous had come and went and Buffy was incredibly close to tearing into the facility to get Spike out, but someone tapped her shoulder. She was wound so tight she nearly clothes lined Raj.

“Sorry! Sorry! I should have made a noise or something.”

“What the hell is going on?” She demanded.

“Wes realized this might be a trap.” Raj started.

Buffy felt her heart constrict. Trap. Her face must have darkened because Raj quickly continued.

“Don’t worry we sorted it. I think it was for whatever was inside there.” Raj said. “Anyway, I came to tell you Wes got Spike.”

“Got Spike?”

Raj paled realizing that telling Buffy about the painful sounding scuffle he had heard Wes interrupt was probably not the best idea.

“Just that they found a way to circumvent the spell and that they’re together now.”

“I can’t do this.” She said. “I just I can’t just wait here! I have to go in there! They probably need my help!”

She is about to run when she feel Raj’s hand at her elbow.

“Don’t do it. They said to meet us here. They will meet us here.”

“They’re running out of time!” Buffy screamed. “Twenty minutes we could keep off the radar of the German army or whatever right? It’s now been twenty three.”

Raj caught Buffy’s eye and despite his intimidation managed to hold his ground. While he knew Buffy could twist out of his grip anytime she wanted, she didn’t.

“They’ll be here!” he repeated.

“So will they!” Buffy yelled pointing up, indicating whomever authorities were on their way. “And who’s to say Genesis can’t have their wonky way with the German police?”

Raj opened his mouth to answer when he is interrupted by Wesley carrying an unconscious Spike running towards them next to him was a girl with bright red hair who was keeping good time with Wesley’s much longer strides. Wes was yelling something and Raj realized his friend wanted him to start the car.

Raj didn’t waste a second, he let Buffy go and jumped into the driver’s seat, he was about to bring the van closer, but Buffy ran to them grabbed Spike over her shoulder and jumped into the back of the van. Raj floored the ignition as soon as he heard the van doors close and Wes yell “go!”
As they were getting to the regular roadways Raj glanced into his side view mirrors to see a helicopter descend searching for whomever had sounded the alarm. And not for the first time Raj wondered who the hell was after them.

Chapter 8 - The Getaway by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi all! so sorry this is so terribly late! but thing have been crazy, I live in Boston so this last two weeks have been filled with catching up. I'll be better I promise and you get an extra long chapter this time! enjoy!
Chapter Eight – the Getaway


They tore out of the warehouse holding center as fast as they could. It was just a few moments before Raj was on the motorway speed limits be damned. Wesley attempted to examine Spike, but after a few failed attempts he finally handed Buffy the First aid kit since she wouldn't let anyone near him.

Buffy registered exactly none of this. She didn’t even notice Wesley attempting to help her. All she thought was Spike is gone and there was no telling whether she was going to get him back.

She laid him out tenderly on the floor of the van and balled up his coat to serve as a makeshift pillow. Murmuring a mixture of obscenities, threats and naked bribes-anything to get some sort of reaction, she grabbed a knife from her boot and made a small incision on her wrist.

“Spike?” she said softly, pressing her wrist to his mouth. “Spike you asshole, fucking drink. Drink. It's good it's slayer blood. You love slayer blood. C'mon. Please, I can’t do this by myself. Spike. Fucking. Drink. Or. I. Will. Kill. You. Spike.You need to drink this now you hear me you stubborn stupid bleached crap-tard? you drink this or I will start cutting things off and your head will be the last to go! Spike, please?”

Wesley cast his eyes about the van; he caught the red headed girl’s eye for a second and both of them looked away. Neither of them wanted to be in the presence of the vampire and the slayer. They both inched away trying to give them as much space as possible in the cramped van. Buffy was murmuring to Spike, and then all out shouting at him. It was hard to ignore her, but it was clear she didn't know they were there. The rest of the world was immaterial and Wes contemplated braving the breakneck speed and making his way to the front with Raj but the van shuddered and he collapsed back to the floor. Red smirked at him.

It may have only taken seconds, but time stood still for Buffy, all she could do was look at Spike's swollen face and the crusted blood that had streamed from his ears. And all she could do was beg him to take her blood. She pressed the cut to his lips and waited, she tilted his head up to allow the blood to flow more easily like she had seen in movies. She couldn't breathe, she felt like everything in the world had compressed into one point, if she could make Spike drink out of sheer force of will, she would have. And then, impossibly she felt him begin to suck. Her body flooded with so much relief she nearly collapsed onto him. Instead she pressed her wrist harder against his lips in an attempt to make him drink more.

Wesley let loose the breath he realized he had unintentionally been holding. He didn’t know what he would do if Spike had dusted in there. He didn’t want to face the Buffy that blamed him for that. Buffy looked so hopeful it hurt--he couldn't remind her that he was not in the clear completely. Spike’s feeble sips were his only sign of life since they left the facility.

The former watcher wisely decided to say nothing about the blood sharing. He knew from his previous observations that Buffy and Spike had come to trust each other. He suspected the connection was deeper than either of them admitted to, but facing the proof of that was pretty staggering. The expression on Buffy’s face when she caught him staring, dared him to say something, but he knew he was already in enough trouble as it was so he kept his mouth shut. She turned her attention back to Spike, she did her best to treat the bullet wounds but some of them had not gone clean through the vampire there were at least two that they would have to clean out. Finally after a few clumsy attempts, Buffy handed the forceps to Wes. Her hands were shaking.

“I don’t have must experience with bullet wounds.” She said. "You live in LA. You do it."

Wes hesitated before he looked at the holes in the vampire chest. A few had gone clean through but two of them had lodged themselves deep in his flesh. It was exceptionally difficult to get to the slugs when the car was careening down the highway at 200 kms per hour but vampire blood didn't flow like human blood so there was little pooling and it wasn't like he had to worry about fucking up anything else in there. Finally after a few seconds he was able to get one, and once he got out the first one, the second one was easier.

Buffy fretted over it for a second, but while Wesley was doing it she suddenly remembered that Wes and Spike had brought someone back with them. The package was apparently a teenaged girl.

“Who’s she?”

Wes glanced up from what he was doing he had been so concentrated on getting the bullets out he had totally forgotten where he was.

The girl was hunched over in a corner watching he exchange. She had dark circles under her eyes and now that he had time to take a good look at her, Wes could see that a couple of inches of brown hair had grown out of the shock of bright red. Little Red couldn’t have been older than 15. Wesley felt sick, he wondered if they had done to her what they had done to Buffy and Spike.

When she noticed that the conversation had turned to her, she lifted her head but she didn't make eye contact. She had a thin, long face and bright blue eyes, and Wes reckoned that she was about the age Buffy was when she had been called. She definitely fought like she had some training. A potential, perhaps, though those girls were usually kpet under strict supervision. He had never known them to be allowed hair dye. Perhaps he had been wrong in his theory that Buffy had lost the ability to pass on her slayer powers.

Wes was suddenly struck with the ramifications. If Genesis was able to get their hands on a potential then their influence went much higher than he though. That level of infiltration was unprecedented. Then the girl cleared her throat and Wesley jerked out of his thoughts.

“I apologies, I was preoccupied with Spike’s condition.” He answered—He realized then that he had neglected to ask the poor girl for her name. He had been completely unprepared for the mystical item to be a girl—possibly a slayer. “I’m so truly sorry. I had no idea that the package that they talked about was a person. I’d have come sooner if I had known. What's your name?”

“I’m Alex" The girl said evenly. She looked far too calm about the turn of events. "I'm not really sure what's happening. Did my grandfather send you?" She searched the van for something non of them could name. "Are you working with the council?"

Wesley arched an eyebrow. "Council?"

"The International Concrete Safety Standard Council?" she supplied smoothly. "Could I have a phone please? to call my grandfather?”

“Sure,” Wesley said he handed her the flip phone he had gotten in LA. “I’m not sure how to make international calls on that thing, but if you have any trouble once we stop I’m sure our, er, associate could help you. Where exactly is your grandfather?”

The girl—Alex looked down at the phone in her hand and then looked back up at Wesley, her eyes were wide as saucers. “I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

“We uh, help people.” Buffy interrupted. She was pressing a bandage to her arm which had stopped bleeding. She seemed to have just remembered where she was and what was going on around her. Flashing a smile at the teenager that didn’t reach her eyes. “My name is Buffy, please give me your hand.”

“Buffy?” The girl sputtered in disbelief. Her eyes turned from the dark-haired slayer to the former watcher.

Buffy sighed, a little bit annoyed. She took the younger girl’s hand in her slayer grip, Alex instantly tried to wrench it away. She was stronger than she looked but Buffy held her in place.

“Yes, Buffy. Look, we just saved you from untold harm and pain and your reaction is the immediate mockery of my name? Nice.”

“What are you doing?” she asked eyeing the slayer carefully.

Buffy pressed around the skin of the red head’s arm before looking up triumphantly and proceeded to bring her knife up to the inside of the elbow.

“Buffy?” Wes intervened. “What are you doing?”

Buffy sighed. “Track dot in her arm. Gimme a sec. I'm sure Raj is jamming the signals but I don't want to risk anything.” And then to the girl. “This may hurt a bit.”

The red head nodded and bit down on her lip. Buffy made a small incision and squeezed the pill sized tracker like Spike had done to her, Alex cried out but didn’t pull her arm away. She got it in just a few seconds but as she was less familiar with blood vessels the girl’s blood spurted everywhere.

“Not as neat as last time, but." She said picking up the tracker dot and proceeded to the front of the van to throw it out the window.

Wesley did his best to smile at the girl sympathetically as he applied antiseptic and dressed the wound.

“Are you alright, Alex?” he asked then grimaced at how lame that sounded. “I mean, er, Have you called your grandfather? Don’t worry about the charges on the phone.”

“Just a little disoriented.” She replied glancing down at the phone and then back up, switching from Wes to Buffy. She took over applying pressure to the wound. “Uh, How long have I been there? What day is it today?”

“January 29th, 2001”

The girl was already fair, but she turned sheet white.

“It’s 2001?” she paused and looked a little lost.

Wesley and Buffy traded sympathetic looks.

“I’m so very, very sorry.” Wesley said quietly. “You must have been in there for quite some time.”

The girl nodded absently as if it didn’t matter and then turned her attention back to Buffy. “So what happens now? What are you going to do with me?”

Wesley looked sheepish. “Honestly at this point the rest of the operation was rather—er—a wait and see moment. I didn’t know what they had, I only just knew that they needed it—you, which meant—er—ensuring we get to you—I didn’t know you were a you, however, I’m not sure it’s as simple as dropping you off at your door step. We need a little time to er-re-group.”

Buffy smirked despite her worry over Spike, “Well said, Wes, now you really seem like a proper man with a plan. I definitely feel reassured.”

Wes scowled at her, despite the dire situation he was inwardly grateful that she was smirking and making jokes instead of throwing him out of the speeding van.

“I really am sorry if I had had any sort of inclination I would have been more prepared.” He said, then realizing how that must have sounded to Alex backpedaled. “Please don’t consider this your fault or anything—we will figure this out, I assure you.”

From her corner Alex was following the exchange with amusement. She fiddled with the flip phone for a second but ultimately decided against trying a call. She handed the phone back to Wesley who looked a little bewildered that she was choosing not to contact her home.

Alex shrugged.

“You’re right, we need to regroup. I don’t want to call home and have them complicate things further.”

Buffy studied the younger girl a little suspiciously. She could not have been older than Dawn. She couldn’t even imagine Dawn in this sort of position but she knew her sister would not be nearly so matter-of-fact about her situation. There would be a lot of screaming and demanding that Buffy come take her home.

“You are oddly calm about this.”

Alex shrugged.

“You’re Buffy the vampire slayer.” She said simply. “I’m in the best possible hands. You say we need to regroup, we need to regroup.”

Buffy was about to open her mouth but closed it abruptly.

“You’ve heard of me?”

Alex nodded.

“Slayer.” She said. “Hellmouth. A few prophesies come to mind.”

Wesley studied the girl carefully.

“So you are aware of—”

“All the things that go bump in the night?” Alex supplied. “Well, I thought I knew what was what and then a blood thirsty group of sadistic humans just about threw me for a loop.”

"Er, so what was that about an International Concrete Council?"

"The ICSSC? It's a precaution in case someone slips up and mentions 'the council'." Alex replied. "We all memorize it. Y'know, like natural."

Wesley arched an eyebrow. That was a new policy. It was an exceptional idea, he wondered who thought of it.

"Alex?"

Buffy was about to ask Alex how she even knew about the council at all, but Raj took advantage of the short lull in conversation.

“Hey, guys, I’m glad the powwow back there is going well. But I’ve been trying to get someone attention for a few minutes now. I’m not sure where we want to be going? Shall we take a minor across borders--EU Transnational kidnapping laws be damned?” He said called back. “Do we just follow the original plan?”

An alarmed Buffy caught Wesley’s eye and instantly touched her hand to her nose. The former watcher gave her a strange look and moved as steadily as he could to the front of the van.

“I think perhaps we should.” He said. “The borders are porous and Alex would be the least of our worries if we do catch attention.”

"Right, well, then everyone be very bloody quiet."

"We're at a border now?" Wes demanded scrambling to his feet.

"As I said, I've been trying to get your attention for a while." Raj said. He was pale and shaking and looked utterly petrified.

Wesley hurriedly sat down and buckled himself in, trying to think of a reason to explain having two injured people at the back of a van. He was half-way through an explanation of being in a rock band when it was their turn to pay the toll. He needn't have bothered. The bored, grungy attendant barely looked up from her magazine the entire transaction. They passed through and sped away, all letting out a collective breath of relief.

For a few minutes the miles flicked by in silence.

“You shouldn’t worry about the vampire.”Alex spoke up.

Buffy glanced up to see the teen was smiling at her tentatively. The slayer studied the girl for a second. The red-head had just been through a whale of an ordeal and now she was comforting Buffy.

“You know a lot about vampires.” It was not a question.

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m not like an expert or anything.” She said with a shrug. “But I’ve been around the block. I know a master when I see one." She shrugged as if it didn't matter, "He’s not dust so whatever it is, he will come back from it. I heard about a vampire who was shot in the head once.”

Buffy nodded. “How do you know these things? You’re a little freakishly okay with the freakish.”

The girl didn’t flinch at the accusatory tone.

"I'm a slayer." she said proudly. "So I've had some practical experience.

“A slayer, huh?” Buffy shook her head and glanced over at the watcher in the room. “So that chosen ONE thing really is a crock of bullshit. Because I think now we’re at what? 3?”

“Maybe if you stopped dying, Summers.” Raj called back from the front of the van. His voice was high and reedy, but he obviously was feeling better.

Buffy's smile was wan. She was about to come back with something about what Wesley said before about thinking the slayer could have been someone other than her actually clicked in her brain. Raj glanced back at her nervously, worried he had pushed too hard with the joke, but Buffy wasn't upset about his making light of the situation, if Alex was a slayer then maybe they had a little piece of the Genesis puzzle.

“Oh, god!” she stammered. “They must have done that! They actually killed me to try and activate another slayer! It would convince everyone I was dead! And they have one more slayer to play more games of operation with. No one would question my Actually-dead-this-time status if someone else was called“ She hurriedly turned to Alex. “How long have you been the slayer?”

Alex took a moment to study Buffy as if she didn't understand the older girl was talking about. It seemed to dawn on her after a few tense seconds and shrunk back against the side of the van. For the first time since they found her, she looked like maybe she was just a kid who was far from home.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I mean I—kind of jumped the gun a bit, you know? I’m a-a potential.” She said sounding ashamed to have been caught in a lie. “Not really a slayer yet. Rung below."

Buffy shrugged and demurred to Wesley who nodded.

“Usually potentials are taken by the watcher’s council for training.” He said. “You, Buffy, were an unusual case.”

“Great. Go me! Finding the abnormal inside the abnormal like the worlds worst babooska doll.” Buffy said shaking her head.

She looked so distraught in that moment, stealing glances at Spike and ignoring the red-headed potential that Wesley decided to distract her. He decided to bring up something he had been thinking about since he had first realized that the girl he and Raj had rescued from Genesis was Buffy.

“I think you may have been on the right path by thinking they may have attempted to temporarily relieve you of your-er-life. But I am not convinced killing you would achieve the end they desire.” He said thoughtfully. “I think that your ability to pass on slayer powers was exhausted during the Master’s prophecy incident. DO you think perhaps I'm wrong?”

“Incident?” Alex asked incredulously.

Buffy nodded absently,"Unbeatable vampire, unspeakable danger, died for two minutes, CPR." she summarized carelessly and then her focus was beck on Wes. “You think that’s what they thought would happen?”

Wesley nodded.

“It would have served two purposes.The Council has all sorts of ways to ensure the slayer had passed on, oracles and prophesies and soothsayers.” Raj piped up from the driver's seat. “I actually had to write a script for all the data bases that keep track of all the prophesies and predictions. Thy would have notified Rupert Giles once they went off at your timely death.”

Buffy caught Raj’s face in the mirror.

“Yeah because that’s just what a watcher who’s mentored a warrior and guided her through thick or thin would want to see. A generic e-mail from the council!”

Raj looked crestfallen. He had been proud of that program. Wes put a comforting hand on his shoulder and then shouldered his way to the back of the van to deal with the surly slayer.

“Now, Buffy, that was a little uncalled for.” He said. “Raj was doing his best to alleviate the uncertainty for the watchers. Just because you don’t like the way they go about announcing your demise--”

“Excuse me? Are we really just cavalierly talking about her dying?” Alex cut in pointing at the other slayer. Her exclamation was met with a guilty look from a now-brunette slayer. “Wait, have you died once or twice?”

“Well, twice, we think. Twice definitely twice.” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “Dammit, I hate not knowing what those idiots did.”

Alex’s brow furrowed and she looked from Buffy to Wes. There was silence in the van for a few minutes while Buffy fumed in impotent rage at the scientists and Wes tried to steer away from her ire while find a way to talk to Alex. He was studying her quite unabashedly, but all of the red head’s attention was currently occupied with the slayer and her realization.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and suppose that whoever decided to play slice and dice with me did the same to you?” she said finally. At Buffy’s nod she jerked her head at Wesley and Raj in the front seat. “So who’re they?”

“My name is Wesley.” Wes answered her, he was puzzled at her inclusion of him in a group separate from Buffy and Spike. “They?”

Alex jerked her head towards the driver’s seat.

“That would be my associate Raj.” He said. “We have our own motives for taking on the Genesis Project. Those are the people who were keeping you. They also detained Buffy and Spike but clearly they managed to escape.”

Alex glanced at the supine vampire. “That is Spike?” she asked. She studied the vampire laying supine on the side of the van, still dead to the world.

“Yeah.” Buffy said in a small voice.

Alex was still looking at him but turned her attention back to Wes and Buffy. “Remind me to thank him when he gets up.”

“If he get’s up.” Buffy said in a small voice. “Stupid fucking chip. I’m really starting to hate that thing. I don’t like Spike being unable to fight.”

“Not unable.” Wes said keeping his tone level and trying not to balk at Buffy bemoaning a vampire’s inability to fight. He had been forced to acknowledge shades of gray in his world; it looked like Buffy had gone through the same thing. “He took down half a dozen guards to save Alex. I really wish you had told me the extent to which it worked sooner.”

“And I really wish your plan hadn’t gone to hell.” Buffy replied sweetly. “And then he could have had backup.”

Wes deflated. “I am really sorry Buffy I had no idea that it would go that way.”
The slayer sighed, it was no use to keep rehashing it. Today had been hard for all of them but they had somehow managed to survive.

“I know, Wes.” She said finally. “I’m sorry to keep reminding you I was just- scared. No more than that actually. The thought of being back there—” she stopped and shook her head. “A-a-and now Spike is not at a hundred percent and He’s the only one who’s as much use in a fight. I mean, no offense, you’ve gotten better and all—”

“No, it’s fine.” Wes said cutting her off. “I understand, Buffy.” He hesitated for a long moment but physically came to a decision and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, was relieved when she didn’t flinch. “We are going to do everything that we can. You are no longer on your own.” He paused, Buffy’s attention had turned back to Spike and he wasn’t going to be able to accomplish anymore tonight. “Perhaps you should try and get some rest? Raj booked us at a fancy suite in Vienna.”

“Made sure to go a round about way of it as well." Raj added. "That should hold them at least for a day. I booked the best suite at the best hotel for a few days. Let them think I'm some sort of South Asian Billionaire. We’ll get rid of the van and blend in with any wealthy party go-ers arriving home after a night of debauchery.”

“How we are ever to pass for that I have no idea,” Wes said with a shrug.

Raj’s grin was evident in his tone of voice. “You come packing black card heat and no one will ask any questions.” He paused as if he was waiting for them to be excited about his idea, “Black card? Credit? No limits? My genius is never going to be appreciated.”

That served to break a little bi of the tension and both girls chuckled a little bit. Wes cracked a smile and shook his head. Raj, satisfied that he was able to help, turned his attention back to the road muttering about masters of espionage, and a hush settled over the van.

Alex was gone inside five minutes. She had mumbled something about the adrenaline rush and the sedative doing weird things with her system before passing out.

Buffy knew, however, from the pounding going on in her chest and the general unmove-y-ness of the vampire next to her, she wasn’t going to get any rest tonight so she made herself comfortable and waited.

They arrived in Vienna in the wee hours of the morning. After ditching the car and hiding any torn or bloody clothing under expensive tuxedo coats and smeared make up, they stumbled into a high end hotel, Wesley and Alex propping up Spike like he was passed out. The four of them were acting as drunk as they could. Wesley drank from his whiskey bottle and sang "American Pie" off hey while Raj put the suite on his credit card. Raj was quite the actor, he proclaimed loudly that his dad would kill him when he found out about the suite and swore the beaming concierge to secrecy. It seemed that they were at least a little effective as the indulgent hotel staff, upon the rental of the obscenely expensive room, sent up complimentary champagne.


*****


The place was plush, full of couches and featured a master bedroom with a huge bed and a bunch of overstuffed chairs and couches. There was an adjoining room with a full dining room table to seat at least 12 people. Buffy and Alex laid Spike on one side of the bed, the teenager quickly bowed out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Buffy had been about to offer the red-head the other side of the bed but when she turned around Alex was gone. For a second she stood alone with Spike. The silence got to her after just a few second and she sought refuge outside.

the dining room table was covered with Raj's various gadgets, he and Wes were fiddling with the network. Buffy knew they were exhausted but they were still going on, she had thought she would be the only one getting no rest tonight.

“You’ll let us know right?” Raj asked anxiously, he gestured to the room behind her. “About Spike?”
Buffy glanced back at the motionless vampire and nodded.

“I will.”

Raj smiled crookedly. He looked like he wanted to say something else but decided against it. Wesley called him back and he went back to his computer.

“I’ll see what I can scrounge up okay?” he said.

"Raj, you need to sleep too." Buffy said."we need you to play Bueller of the 90's whiz-kid. No one else can make heads or tails of any of these things."

the younger watcher looked so happy in that moment that Buff wondered what she had said right. Raj hesitated for a split second and then threw his arms around Buffy.

"Thank you for saying that, Buffy." he said to a thoroughly surprised slayer."I understood almost none of that but I'll take it."

He eventually released her and Wes walked over, he clapped Raj on the back and handed him some sort of steaming beverage. He turned his attention to Buffy and was immediately concerned. "You should get to bed, Buffy, we have it from here."

She nodded and much as she didn't want to be left alone, she realized she had to go into the bedroom and face Spike. SPike who was dead. She quickly shut the door behind her, unsure if she could keep the tears at bay for much longer. Wesley was right, they weren’t alone anymore. She didn’t have to worry about Spike all by herself anymore.

She did her best to occupy her hand and her thoughts taking care of Spike’s injuries.

“Spike,” she whispered so low she could barely hear herself. “Please, Spike do anything.” She waited for a moment. “please don’t just lie there you bleached pain in the ass!”

His stillness made everything worse, it had taunted her throughout the ride to Vienna, it was a painful reminder of just how alive Spike was all the time. He just moved all the time, he was downright restless, always pacing and bouncing on his heels. Even in his sleep he thrashed and mumbled things and it was annoying as hell, but it reminded her that he was there and after a while it became normal.

She idly wished he looked troubled or more Spike-like. He looked boyish in his sleep, innocent almost. It should be striking, it should have made her feel all feminine and nurturing, but all it did was make her worry that he was not going to be the Spike she knew when he got up.

What if the chip had done some sort of irreparable damage?

The car ride had done a little to distract her, but here in the room with everyone else asleep Buffy was alone with her thoughts. It was something she had avoided for almost a month now, barring her pre-mission soak. Usually she was careful to be either doing something or sleeping, but everything from the past few months came crashing down on her and she couldn’t help it. She laid her head on the chest of the only person in the world who would have understood her hatred and her violation and her despair, the person she might still loose today as yet another blow from Genesis to team Buffy. It should make her more angry or strengthen her resolve but it was already too much for her to handle and she wept.

Buffy was never one to cry in public. She avoided it as much as she could in front of her friends, especially when so much was on the line. She had to be the one to hold it together, but the room was so quiet it was deafening and she was alone so she could cry as much as she wanted. She hadn’t realized that Spike had been helping her hold it together all this time. He was a fellow warrior, a fellow fighter and if he was around she didn’t have to fight by herself. Seeing him beaten and bloody and still as the corpse he technically was, was just too much for her. There had always been something about Spike that was alive. He understood the Scoobie pop culture references, he listened to contemporary songs and breathed even though he didn’t have to. There was just something so there about his habits that it was easy sometimes to forget he was a zillion years old.

She cried until she didn’t have the tears anymore then she just sobbed angry dry sobs. After that, Buffy picked herself up and walked into the plush bathroom. It was all gold and marble and beautiful, and Buffy wanted to ruin it she wanted to crack the stone and break the damn mirror make all of it as cracked as she felt, but the stone held up more impressive than she thought and she was so exhausted it was funny. She started to laugh, it wasn't a happy sound. It was an ugly, hysterical guffaw and before she knew it, she was grabbing the perfectly folded towels and thrashing them around dropping them to the floor with the perfect fluffy white rug, she picked up all the tiny sops and flung them across the room and stomped all the shampoo out of the little bottles from Van Cleef and Arpels. She wasn’t sure why but it felt so good to trash the place. After a few moments though, the compulsion subsided and she sunk to the ground. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror. She was sure she was all blotchy and make up runny.

“So not of the good.” She muttered.

She wasn’t sure what prompted it but a second later she found herself on her knees hugging the toilet bowl and emptying the contents of her stomach into it. After a few dry heaves, she got up, wiped her mouth and chanced a look in the mirror. Not bad. She had bought some drugstore mascara earlier that week in an effort to feel more like herself, and for once waterproof was not a lie.

Spike.

The thought rang out in her brain, the way a shrill cellphone ripped apart the silence of a tense moment, too lound and echo-y and as present in its absence in the moment after. Buffy thought perhaps, that this is what it must be like to have lost a limb. You distract yourself as much you can but every so often it comes back and hits you like a ton of bricks. Distract-y bricks. She wondered why she was even in here, why she had left him in the other room.

It took her a second to force her thoughts to take shape. She had come into the bathroom to wipe the blood off his face. That fucking chip had fired so hard he was crying blood. She knew she should go into the other room and clean him up. If she was lying there she would want someone to do that for her, but she just couldn’t bring herself to get up. Spike was all she had in this world. Her new world. And all of it was made possible by that stupid bleached weirdo and now he was lying there like the dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

It was just one more thing that she couldn’t fix or change or control.

The thought of it had her running back to the toilet again. She tried to make herself go out to the room and do what she had intended but it was like she was frozen. She couldn’t move or cry or throw up. She sunk down to the fluffy bathroom rug and towel pile just overwhelmed with everything that had happened to her in the last few weeks. She could feel everything she had been trying so hard to ignore. Her own devastation that she had been reduced to this mute creature unable to move, or rage, or even cry. She was so scared all of the time and now they had given her something else to be scared for. She had thought that they had taken everything from her, her dignity, her confidence in her abilities and now her partner. Because that was what Spike was. He had been her partner in everything. She could rely on him in ways she could never rely on Wesley or Raj. Even though they had the same goal they weren’t on the same page. No one could ever understand what happened to her; not like Spike could.

For a while she sat in the fancy bathroom, not crying or heaving or anything. She just sat there and stared off into the distance. She didn’t even want to hope because hoping made her think about it. Her hand throbbed where she had cut it, but Buffy just ignored the pain. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she didn’t want to get up. So she sat in the bathroom, head against the wall and succumbed to her own exhaustion.


*****


When Wesley came to, he was sprawled on a couch, every inch of his body felt stiff, and bruised and a little bloody. He groaned when he tried to get up, his foot still hurting from kicking in a door.

“Ah, it wakes.” Raj greeted him.

Wesley had half a mind to find something, anything to throw at his friend. Instead he unfolded his lanky frame from the couch and tried to get rid of the minor crick in his neck.

“Has Spike gotten up yet?”

Raj shook his head.

“Alex woke up though.” He said. “She’s in the loo right now washing the blood off of herself. I guess she was pretty knackered last night. I was wondering what we should do from here, I have all of our equipment, and I got up early and drove the van into an underground parking lot on the other side of the city. We should still be out of here as soon as Spike gets up.”

Wesley smiled ruefully at his old friend. Taking in the rest of the suite, it was later than he had thought at first, but it seems the place had designed the rooms with late risers in mind. It was nearly noon. Upon cracking open the drapes, the sun was high over the Vienna rooftops. Wesley’s stomach reminded him that he had not had food since the previous afternoon. He scanned the living space of the suite and saw a small ornate tray with 5 empty porcelain cups. No doubt some sort of specialty Viennese coffee compliments of the hotel.

“How many espressos have you had?”

“They sent up a few complimentary ones.” Raj replied. “And I may have plowed through them. They were tiny little things and I thought maybe the slayer would prefer something a little more her style. Like Starbucks maybe. There’s a starbucks near here and I know that Americans like that sort of thing and it’s probably been a while since she had something that was familiar because she’s been on the run all this time. And now she has help though but I suppose we didn’t really do all that much to help her. Bollocks. I’m so sorry this has all gone completely balls up. And I’ve gotten you involved. And I shouldn’t have and I just thought that these people should not be allowed to keep going like this especially since they—”

He paused his tried at Wesley’s amused look and signed.

“They’re little tiny things.” He said. “And I’m an addict. Just give me a proper sized cup of something that I can sip, seriously, or else all of it just goes. Look, I suppose I’m just saying that I had no idea it would go down like that.”

He looked so distraught that Wesley actually reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You think this is your fault?”

“I got everyone involved!” Raj said unhappily. “I really didn’t think it would go this way. I thought that I could just expose the mole, find some incriminating evidence and turn this all over to the Council and now we’re in Vienna? In a hotel I got with a fake identity my father fixed for me. I feel like I I’m plugging a hole in a dike and then someone else came over and smacked me on the bloody face with a cricket bat.”

“I was involved when they killed Ravi.” Wesley said simply. Earning him a grateful smile from his friend. “I’m not going to lie to you though, Raj, when I offered to help I thought that this would be a sort of excuse to get utterly sloshed.”

"I'm an over-achiever?"

That made Wes crack a smile.

"I suppose it was too much to hope for."

Raj barked a short, self-deprecating chuckle. “Yeah, That was never how I operated. I don’t know what I thought I was going to do about this when this all started. Wes, I’m not even a full watcher. I’m an analyst. I haven’t the foggiest idea what I’m doing. What I’m getting us all into.”

“You’re fighting the good fight, Devraj. And your father would be very proud to know that.” Wes said. “What did you find out from the documents we stole last night?”

“Not very much, all medical gibberish I’m going to have to get Simon to sort though.” Raj said turning his attention back to his computer. “But I don’t think the potential is just any old potential.”

“Potential? Is this where you tell me that I’m a beautiful woman with the world ahead of me and all the tools to make my dreams come true?”

Neither of the men had heard the door open, but just like that Alex was standing in front of them arms akimbo and eyes narrowed.

Wes glanced from her to Raj. Raj instantly looked down at the floor and the former watcher rolled his eyes.

“We already know you’re some sort of supernatural being.” He said. “But we don’t discriminate, so don’t worry about that.”

The girl’s look softened.

“I’m sorry.” She said. “I should be hostile. This is all a little bit surreal for me. I’m not completely sure I’m not just dreaming all of this.”

Raj obligingly snapped a rubber band on her direction which she side stepped and got right back into fighting stance in under a second.

Wesley turned his best disapproving look over to his friend who smiled sheepishly.

“No teasing the volatile newly released prisoner.” He said lamely. “Right.”

Wesley sent Alex an apologetic look that the red head seemed to accept because she relaxed.

“I’m so very sorry.” Wes said simply. “I understand you really have no cause to trust us. I think for now you’re going to have to be patient as we sort this out. We have a few other more pressing concerns.”

“You have concerns above that place we were in right now?” Alex demanded incredulously. “I’m not sure you have any idea what’s at stake then.”

She bit her lip as soon as she said it, as if she thought she had given away too much.

Wesley considered her carefully.

“Where exactly did they take you from?”

“My home.” Alex said shifting uncomfortably under the former watcher’s gaze.

“Where you are living with your…” Wes paused and waited for the girl to supply the words.

“My grandfather, Back in the states.” She said. “listen, they aren’t just messing with Vampires and slayers they reached out and pulled me from—” She paused as if she was unsure how much to reveal. Both Wes and Raj were hanging on her every word, But Alex stalled as long as she could, hoping they would just forget she said anything.

As if on cue, they all heard the tell tale sound of the vampire groaning from the other room.The tension broke and suddenly the conversation was forgotten. They scrambled to the door, Alex leading the way. The girl was clearly worried about the vampire who saved her life. It could have been that she was happy to be granted a reprieve, but she looked so relieved that Spike was alive, it was clear in ever fiber of her being. She sped past the two men and ran into the room just as Spike groaned again.

“Bloody hell just cut the sodding thing off and put me out of my misery.”

The three in the living room crowded around the doorway, waiting for Buffy to come to Spike’s aid but she was nowhere to be found.

Spike noticed that too as he searched the room, he looked more and more worried.

“Where’s the slayer?” he demanded, looking suddenly horrified. “ Where is she? You didn’t leave her there did you? Watcher, so help me I’ll—”

Alex and Raj both shoved Wesley forward who approached the vamp like he was a bomb just waiting to explode.

“Spike, I assure you Buffy was with us last night, she’s probably gone for a walk or—”

“Or the Bathroom.” Alex interrupted quickly. She gestured to the door of the bathroom. “I’ll check.”

Spike’s laser bright eyes snapped to the teenager and then cut right back to Wesley.

“The girl. I thought i remembered a girl.” He said. “Were you expecting a girl?”

Wesley shook his head and exhaled heavily.

“Go get Buffy, Alex.”

Alex nodded and ducked into the bathroom. Buffy was still passed out on the floor next to the toilet, her dark brown hair was everywhere. Alex froze, unsure of how to proceed.

“Guys! She’s in here!”

She reached out and prodded Buffy as gently as she could.

“Buffy? Buffy?” she repeated. “Buffy, it’s me, Alex?”

The slayer groaned much like Spike had in the other room. Her arm lashed out and grabbed Alex by the wrist. She had the younger girl in a bind in less time than it took for the redhead to yelp.

“Buffy, great. You’re up.” Alex said play-sunnily between all the choking. “Wanna maybe let me go and I can tell you that Spike’s up?”

“Spike?”

The slayer let her go and yanked the door open to see a very relieved vampire and a rather awkward Wesley.

“Morning, Buffy.” He said backing away from the vampire just in time to side step the slayer who seemed to be unaware he was in the room. “er, are you okay?” She didn’t even acknowledge his presence instead checking Spike’s injuries. The vampire yelped in protest when she poked some of the more tender bruises. “Buffy?” still nothing. Finally, Wes opened the door and gestured for the two others to precede him. “Why don’t Alex, Raj and I see about breakfast?”

He didn’t get a reply.

There was no one else in the room but the two of them as far as Buffy was concerned. But she wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to throw her arms around him just as much as she wanted to slap silly for letting himself be taken down. Neither seemed like a good idea in his predicament.

Alex scowled at her dismissal but it was pretty clear Buffy and Spike needed a moment and neither superbeing would be at ease unless they were alone so she left with Wes and Raj.

“Don’t think for a moment I have forgotten our conversation before this.” Wesley warned her. “You seem to know an awful lot about what’s going on.”

Alex arched an eyebrow and Wesley set his jaw.

“You know at least more than we do.”

"Considering how surprised everyone is at my presence, I'm going to go ahead and say, that's not the hardest thing in the world."

Wes scowled at her. "Come along now."

She allowed Wesley to usher her out the door. He made a signal to wait until the door was closed before he gestured for her to explain.

“It’s not really that complicated.” She said. “They’re called Genesis, Wes, They had Buffy and Spike, a descendant of the Master in the line of Aurelius and a slayer—one girl in the all the world-- what do you think they wanted with them?”

Wesley sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re a watcher.” She said. It wasn’t a question. She looked passed Wesley to indicate Raj. “He probably is one too. You definitely get it.”

“Get what?” Raj piped up.

Alex ignored him; her focus was on the more senior of the two.

“Wesley, tell me you haven’t figured out what they wanted.” She challenged, folding her arms in front of her.

“What did they want?” Raj demanded while Wesley studied Alex more carefully.

“We weren’t sure.” Wes replied addressing Alex.

“Really?” she said. “You didn’t figure out what I am as soon as Raj told you something was up?”
“It’s impossible.”

“There’s a saying.” Alex said with a smirk. “Something about impossible and improbable. Now think about the girl in question.”

“You know Buffy?”

Alex hesitated and then nodded. “Sort of.” She said. “And I know Genesis and I know they are never going to let up searching for them. It was a huge gamble using Buffy as bait.”

Raj finally managed to cut in. “What’s going on? Wesley, what do they want with Buffy?”

“They want her baby.”

Raj's mouth dropped. "Hybrids. That's what they meant by chimeras. They are making hybrids. Which means you are--"

Alex nodded. "Half-vampire."

Wesley looked worried. "They need to see if it worked. They mean to make more"


"Way more." she replied. "I think they're going to pull a Star Wars and create a clone army and then sell them to the highest bidders."




Chapter 9 - The Girl in Question by Petra
Author's Notes:
I fixed everything! I'm not sure what was going on but I'm going to blame it on rainstorms on the East Coast.


***

OKay, I'm going to go ahead and dodge the rotten fruit. I know its been forever but I was waiting for a BETA and then the BETA sort of fell through. Some of this chapter is pretty ambitious s I'm going to need a lot of encouragement because there are a lot of cross roads here.
Chapter Nine - The Girl in Question



“Your heart’s goin’ a mile a minute, pet,” the vampire said softly. He studied her, trying to get a read on the slayer was not usually difficult, but right now he wasn’t sure what she was going to do. She looked like a mess. Her hair was everywhere, her eyes were red, puffy, and fixed on her feet. It was very clear she had been crying, crying over him.

“Be careful, a bloke might think you actually cared.”

It was something to say, just a little joke to show her he was okay, but her head popped up and she looked like he had punched her in the face. She actually looked like she might start crying again. Spike immediately cursed at himself. For the unlife of him, he couldn't stop himself from constantly putting his foot in his mouth. He quickly tried to change the subject but his mind was still fuzzy and he was drawing a complete blank. He tried to encourage her with a smile, but she wouldn't meet his eye.

“Well, these are posh digs. Bed feels good.” He said studying his dim surroundings. “How’d we get here?”

That managed to snap her out of it.

“We lugged you in with a little help from Wesley and Alex.” She said. She had stood from and was now walking aimlessly around the hotel room, clearly uncomfortable and unsure what to do with herself.

Spike nodded. The grim set of Buffy’s face made him wonder just how out he was and for how long. He was so worried about how she looked, he realized that maybe, he didn't look much better.

“Where are we then, pet?”

“We’re in Vienna.”

The vampire nodded. “Should have figured. Only one place in the world this bloody pompous’n perfect lookin’.”

They lapsed into silence for a second. Spike experimentally shifted in the bed, his body felt sluggish and everything ached, but the true pain was in his head. It felt like a truly spectacular hangover possibly the worst he had ever experienced. He wonderedif bits of his skull had been bashed in and then inflated and then hammered back into place. There was some sort of fuzz behind his eyes, his mouth felt dry and sour at the same time. He looked ack at her to see she was taking his quiet self-assessment very badly. Spike wondered if he was bleeding out of anywhere strange. He didn't feel anyhing, but there was some tell tale stickiness on his cheeks and on his neck.

Bugger, that wasn't a good sign.

“I was more worried about you than--So don't want to go there.” Buffy finally said in a small voice. She looked up at him and her eyes were shiny with tears. Spike wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms. “You didn’t breathe even. Nothing. God, Spike, even in your sleep you always breathe, you always talk. You fidget and hog the bed and suddenly you just didn’t--you weren't! You were just gone! And- And- And-”

He couldn't help it. He reached out to pull Buffy into his arms, but she shoved him away. He tried not to be hurt, she looked shattered. She looked like everything that had happened to her was finally hitting her, and he understood that better than anyone. She couldn’t bear the thought of Spike comforting her--of anyone comforting her.

Buffy slid off the bed. She was so sick and tired of being comforted and coddled. She wanted to feel like herself. She wanted to wreak some havoc and burn something down. Preferably something to do with those ghouls at Genesis, but burning them would be more merciful than what Buffy had planned.


“And I have never been so mad at you!!” She stopped short of thumping him on the chest for which he was grateful. “Just when I thought I was finally starting to be back to work Buffy again you made with the deader than your average blondie bear.”


Spike bristled at the nickname but Buffy looked so distraught he just chuckled and shook his head which only enhanced the pounding. He grimaced and Buffy was immediately on the bed, her hands pressed to his temples. Spike allowed himself to lean into her touch. For a second they sat on the bed, both of them silent. Her hands on his head made eased his migrane somewhat, which only served to make his other injuries to the forefront.

“Trust you, pet, to make my horrible injuries all about you.” He said without venom, he managed a soft chuckle. He tried to get up, wincing at the pain from at least one broken rib. Buffy frantically tried to move the pillows around to make him more comfortable. “And don’t bloody call me that.”

“Crap!” she muttered, contrite now after her outburst. “Sorry. I default into bitchy Buffy.”

Spike hissed again as he shifted into a sitting position.

“God, Spike, they really did a number on you.” She studied him worriedly, but she had not felt so helpless since she was in that place. That thought sent her into a panic. “Do you need more blood?” She didn't wait for him to refuse her, she had her dagger out and was making an inch long cut on her palm. She felt Spike’s hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. And suddenly he was the one looking at her as if she was the one who had almost died.

It was so hard not to take the offering. Her blood was like a drug. The scent of it was heady and it took every inch of his self control not to take it, but she pressed her hand to his lips. All the aches and pains suddenly ebbed. Everything in his world was the scent and taste of Buffy's blood. He tried to ignore everything else in the room. He knew the effect he had on her, especially when he was drinking from her. Usually he would breath deeply, take it all in, but now was not the time.
“Luv, slow down.” He said as he began to lick her palm. “You don’t have to keep cutting yourself open.”

“No, it’s okay.” She said simply. She was looking at him now, studying him. She didn't remove her hand.

“Slayer, you need to be in tip top shape. You can’t do that if you keep bleeding everywhere.”

“What I need, Spike, Iis for you to be better. I can’t be better unless you’re better so please. It's slayer blood, I've got it and you need it. Just a little?”

Spike made a big show of rolling his eyes, but he took her hand reverently and took a few quick pulls before licking her palm clean to let slayer healing take over. It was tempting as hell too just keep going, but there was something odd about it. Even the demon side of his vampiric nature was placated after a few more small mouthfuls. Usually he would have to battle that side of him down to pull away before he bled her dry, now all he had to do was keep himself from spouting bad poetry. Her blood was the richest, most delicious thing in the world and her constant offering meant more to William than he ever would want to admit–he tried to remind himself the she might not know how much the simple act meant. All she wanted to do was keep him alive, so they could keep moving, he was the only one she really trusted. It wasn’t what his stupid human side kept wanting it to be. He had to keep reminding himself that. After closing up the wound he straightened up and mentally thanked whatever god there was for the low lighting so the slayer wouldn’t notice anything odd with the sheets.

“Where is the rest of the menagerie?”

Buffy smirked. “You know I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you talking with the Giles accent.”

“Thought the same thing when you came boundin’ through the door the other day as a brunette.”

Her hands flew to her disheveled dark mane. She had not thought about her hair since she had first had it done, the whirlwind that was the past few days made her forget she had even done it. Her reflection still gave her pause.

“Is it that bad?” She asked self-consciously.

“Gorgeous in any color, pet, you know that”

She wasn’t sure what she had expected him to say. It wasn’t as if he was going to say she looked like a witch, but him saying it made Buffy feel oddly better about it. She hadn’t realized how much his opinion had come to mean to her.

Her heart was still going like a jackhammer even though the slayer had visibly relaxed. Spike sighed. That means that he and the watcher were right. That would also explain why his demon wasn’t immediately insisting he drain the slayer–vampiric nature recognizes family and right now she was in that way. Spike immediately realized that he was going to have to tell her and quickly. Whatever that package was that they had picked up it must have something to do with her situation.

Her situation that had a deadline. How the fuck was he supposed to tell her about that? He knew without a shadow of doubt that he had to be the one, she was worried about him he could tell, he had now taken too long to say anything after a strange complement and no matter what he said it was going to be awkward, maybe now was the best time.

“Slayer, we need to talk about something.”

The air around them suddenly got heavy.

Buffy was about to reply when there was a knock on the door.

Both the vampire and slayer jumped a little. It occurred to them suddenly that they were seated on the bed, Buffy half on Spike's lap, the lights dim. Buffy scrambled to the door being sure to adjust the lighting so that it was less intimate, she cracked the door open.


It was the teenager, Alex. Now that Buffy could actually takea good look at her, she was a compact, maybe an inch taller than Buffy herself with a shock of fire engine red air. she padded into the room holding a cup of steaming blood.

“I thought that if there was yelling you’re probably feeling better.” She said with a hesitant smile. “I–uh–Also figured that you might want this maybe.” She thrust the cup of blood at Spike. “Hi, I’m not sure if you remember because you kind got taken down like a second after we met. Kinda. Not really." She shrugged. "You saved me I guess? Um, I’m Alex, I’m the package.” She paused awkwardly and smiled. “Tadah!” her face clouded over at her audience’s reception which she didn’t wait for. “Sorry. I’m not sure why I did that. Uhm, Thank you for saving me from that place I heard that you were taken by them too so know that they’re really, really not nice people but you know that and you came anyway and with the chip and all I–shit, sorry.” Her deluge slowly trickled to a stop when she saw both Buffy and Spike’s amused faces.
“Sorry. I’m babble girl when I get nervous.”

Buffy eyed Alex for a second. Last night, the teenager had been so cool about all of this. She had basically taken everything in stride. This was the first Buffy had seen show any sort of unease. Maybe she was in that shock Wesley had told her about.

“I remember you.” Spike said graciously accepting the blood. He took a long drink and took care to nod at her appreciatively. Alex beamed. Buffy looked at her weirdly, maybe it was teenager moodiness but this version of Alex was a lot more eager to please than her incarnation last night had been. She looked like she had been holding her breath until Spike took a drink. “You must have taken out those two large buggers. No way Oxford could have done that on his own.”

Alex nodded blushing a little at the praise.

“But you’re just a little chit.” Spike peered at her closely. She didn’t smell all human. “What are you then?”

Alex gave him a weird look.

“She's a Potential.” Buffy supplied.

“Potential Slayer?” Spike asked. That might have explained the skills, but from what he recalled when he was studying slayers, the potentials didn't have the strength of their calling until they were called. He made a skeptical click with his tongue. “Sure.”

He turned his attention back to Alex who was standing at the foot of the bed fidgeting nervously. She couldn’t be more than fifteen. Spike tamped down on the hatred he had for Genesis, fed by their audacity to mess with a little girl someone who should be worried about fripperies and the boys whose hearts she could break.Even with all the evil he had seen, he felt his stomach lurch just thinking of what they had done to him and if they had applied the same treatments to this child. He felt his face soften.

“Alex, yeah?” Her attention snapped to him at his mention of her name. “What’s your last name,bit?”

There was something about her. Something familliar that he couldn't place.

Alex looked uneasy for a second but Spike didn’t budge. He just sat there studying her with his penetrating eyes. After a few seconds she started to fidget.

Buffy didn’t envy her; she knew Spike could be a little intimidating. It hadn’t really occurred to her to find out the girl’s last name but it made sense, after all, they were going to need to bring her home at some point.

“Uh-K-Kardashian.” She blurted out.

“Like OJ’s lawyer Kardashian?” Buffy asked. Maybe that was why Alex looked familiar?

“Oh, Is that why they’re famous?” she asked stupidly. And then she shook her head seemingly recovering from her momentary lapse. "No. Er, Another Kardashian."

Buffy and Spike traded looks and Alex shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Okay, so I am not sure how much I should really say.” She was very clearly begging them to drop it. "it's kinda complicated and I'm not sure what the right thing to do is."

Spike studied the girl, she was not much older than Buffy had been when he had first met her, she looked almost as if she was going to cry. her face was starting to turn blotchy and he knew if he pressed her now she would blurt everything out, from the look on her face perhaps that was not the best idea. Though, he was curious.

Alex was staring anywhere but at them. She finally rested her gaze on her boots.

Buffy did her best to smile at the girl encouragingly. While she was clearly lying about the name and keeping something important from them, she was all for chalking the teenager's jumpiness to finally being out of the facility and trying to maintain her footing, unsure if she was safe or in the fire-frying pan situation. She remembered when everything felt odd and large and every question from everyone felt like some sort of interrogation. Maybe it would be better to try and ask her some other questions, like if she would like to contact anyone or if she needed something to eat. Spike, however beat her to the punch.

“Where are you from?”

Buffy elbowed Spike more violently than she should have and he winced. He wasn’t helping her support idea with the actually interrogating.

“Cleveland.” Alex answered finally looking up from her boots.

“Cleveland, is nice I hear. I’ve personally never been. Please ignore, Spike.” Buffy said. The vampire was clearly not getting the be kind to the volatile and clearly uneasy teenager message.

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Spike!”

The vampire was ignoring her. Something was definitely up with him because he was peering at Alex with an intensity that even she was a little uncomfortable with.

“Alex, don’t let Spike be a bully.” She said as kindly as she could. “We just want to help you. We were there too we know how–there isn’t even a word for how how-y it was.” She then sent Spike a warning glare. “Do Wes and Raj have breakfast-y things?”

Alex nodded; clearly relieved. “Raj got the blood this morning I think maybe something’s wrong with him.” At Buffy’s look of concern she shrugged. “He looks like he’s tweaking out. It’s probably just coffee. I shouldn’t make light of any out of the ordinary things in present company I guess. But um, there’s jam and bread and coffee and things.”

“Do you think you can get up?” Buffy asked Spike, just the mention of food made her think she could smell the butter and carb-tastic yumminess and her stomach rumbled.

Spike shook his head.

“I’m not sure, slayer.” He said. “I’ll give it a go, but you should get some breakfast.”

Buffy nodded. She glanced at Alex intending the red head to come with her but Spike stopped her.

“Go ahead, luv,” he said. “Me and the bit here are going to have a chat.”

He locked eyes with Alex who swallowed oddly. Buffy hesitated, glancing in between the two of them. Her focus was on Alex who, to her credit, was holding her own in the staring/pissing contest. Alex finally looked away from the vampire and nodded at Buffy.

“Go ahead, Buffy.” She said. “I can hear your stomach growling from all the way over here.”

Buffy nodded. “Don’t let him bully you. I’ll be right back.”

The door shut behind her leaving Alex alone in the room with Spike. Alex shifted uncomfortably under Spike's intense x-ray gaze.

“What are you?” He asked. His voice was low but still dangerous, he has tilted his head to the side, scarred evebrow raised,studying her intently. She was steadfastly refusing to squirm.

“Well, I am a slayer.” Alex said without a moment’s hesitation. "A potential. The training and the Watcher weren't a bit of a gimme?"

Spike was clearly unconvinced. He continued, “Don’t say slayer, I know you aren’t a slayer. You don’t smell human."

For a long moment no one said anything, Spike just waited patiently, not saying anything.

“I’m just not only a slayer.” Alex said finally cracking. “I’m just also a damphyr. Half vampire, half slayer. Neither human nor undead. Of two worlds, the chosen and the undead to save the universe–I think was how the prophecy went when I was born. Listen, Spike, I was going to tell everyone but I only want to explain it all once.”

His eyes narrowed.

“So it’s true then.” He said. “What I was worried about? What they were after.”

Alex narrowed her eyes and shrugged sullenly.

“I can’t really read your mind, bleach boy.” She lifted her chin and only just served confirm his burgeoning suspicious. She looked exactly like The Slayer.

“About what they were doing back in that hell hole” he said ignoring for a moment the obstinate tone she had taken with him. “About Genesis making more of you.”

“I have no idea.” She said softening a little “all I got was poked and watched. There was no prodding.”

Spike let go of the breath he realized he had been holding. He wasn't sure of it yet, there were some hints as to who this girl could be and just the thought of the Project doing to her what they had done to him and Buffy made his blood boil. The rage much have shown on his face because the girl took a step back. Spike relented immediately.

“It really is Alex, then?” He said gently.

“Yeah.” She said quietly.

“Alex Kardashian? That was the best you could think of?”

“It’s Armenian.” She explained weakly.

“You don’t look Armienian.”

Alex straightened her spine.

“You don’t look intimidating interrogating me from your sickbed.” She snapped back without a moment's hesitation.

To her surprised though Spike smirked.

“Well, if anything was going to convince me, bit, that’d do it.” His tone was lighter but not completely congenial just yet. He still wanted to know why she was lying to them. “You going to tell me why you have my eyes and my baby sister’s Christian name?”

Alex arched an eyebrow.

“You didn’t think I would suss it out, Alexis?” he said. "You're mine."

She stared at him in surprise. She had known she wasn't exactly flying under the radar, but she had thought the sheer ipossibility of her existence would keep him guessing just a tad longer. She had been told about Spike, of course. He was stubborn as hell and more intuitive than anyone had ever given him credit for. He still didn’t have everything but he already had half the story and she knew that he would not let this drop. She weighed her options. Buffy Wes and Raj were pretty content that she had helped them but Spike had been around too many people who wanted to kill him over the years. And letting him know before the others did little to mess with anything, at least any more than she was already messing with everything.

“My name is Alexis Anne Joyce.” She said saving the trump card. “Pratt.”

Spike's jaw dropped. Pratt. He hadn't heard that name in a long time.

“Another dimension?” He said with a quirk of his eyebrow, as if alternate dimensions were things that happened everyday.

Alex deflated like a tiny, red headed balloon. She began to pace.

“Yes. Maybe?" She said. "I had my suspicions when I saw the equipment and then when we got out I was pretty sure. None of this happened where I’m from, nothing like this happened. ” She collapsed onto the foot of Spike’s bed,cradling her head in her hands. "It’s a lot to explain and I only want to have to do it once."

“And in your dimension the slayer named her little girl after my baby sister?”


Alex looked up at him pleadingly.

"Good takeaway, there, Spike, not that you have a kid, not that it's with Buffy. But if you must know, yes, I was named after your sister. Yes, I’m from a different dimension and I think me coming here has royally fucked everything up and I am not sure what to do and it’s 2001 and Wesley is in the other room is talking about taking me home and now I’m trying to think about prophesies because maybe I’d actually believe them if they predicted this.”

Spike smirked. "I'm sure they could find a way to read that way.”

“I am just so sure that everything I’m saying is ruining something or making the world explode in some sort of cosmic bloody I don’t know.” She said. “And you are staring at me which I get, I really do but do but-what the hell are you doing?”

He was shuffling. Shifting his weight and testing his limits.

“I need to tell the slayer about–” he paused and put his hand on his rib cage. He shook his head, it was almost too much to believe. “your siblings.”

That took the winds of hysteria out of her sails. For a second she was clearly able to realize just how much Spike was taking into stride here. She had had a car ride and a few hours to wrap her mind around it. Alex chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. She moved to help him but Spike had already torn a piece of one of the sheets and was tying it around his mid-section. The rasp in his breath quieted immediately and he flinched .

“You know what you’re doing.” He observed.

Alex nodded. “Have had some experience.”

“Good, let’s see if I can get up on m’own without the ol’ noggin doing some Bolshoi ballet spinning then we need to get the hell out of here. “



*****



Once Buffy’s Spike-based worry had been assuaged some sort of switch got pulled and suddenly all the things that had been on the back burner came right up to the forefront. First and foremost, she was starving. Raj’s credit card had done its magic and the hotel had sent up an impressive spread–cold cuts, different cheeses, so many different jams Buffy had no idea which fruits were which, enough breads that Buffy ran out of names and assortedmbeverages. Raj plopped down and began to help himself to the fruit platter. Buffy grabbed a few croissants and began slathering jam on them.

“You going to sit down?” Raj asked wryly, a little alarmed at her ferocity.

The slayer shook her head. “Feel weird and fizzy and hyper.”

She began to pace unconsciously. Raj and Wes traded looks, the younger watcher reached for one of the porcelain cups. He was about to fill it with coffee but Wes swiftly intercepted the drink. Raj glared at Wes and turned his attention back to Buffy.

“Christ, Summers, when was the last time you ate?”

She shrugged a mouthful of jam and croissant. “Don’t think it was yesterday–was worried about the whole being in the belly of the beast thing.” She said with a vague gesture with a hand full of carbs.

“I’m sorry.” Wes said looking worried himself now. “I had thought you–I mean have you determined–” he paused and seemed to realize how stupid he sounded. “Nevermind, are you feeling better now?”

“There is kipper so I am chipper.” Buffy said with a grin, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “I love kipper. Really. I need it.” She found another danish with some sort of gooey filling oozing out of it. That went in whole. “This slayer is a kipper shipper. I should put that on a t-shirt!”

Raj smirked.

“Do you know what kippers are?”

“I thought it was British for breakfast.”

“Yeah.” Raj replied with a shake of his head. “kippers are oily herring.”

Buffy made a face and both Wes and Raj started to chuckle. It was a small trickle that turned into a deluge. It had been a while since any of them had properly laughed–a few days at least which felt like a few weeks. The tension had broken for the moment and Buffy chucked a few of her croissants at them. Wes halfheartedly tried to dodge them but it only served to make them laugh harder. After a few moments, though, the mirth came to a stop.

“British breakfast is gross.” Buffy said in her own defense. Raj and Wes’s smiles faded and for a long beat the room was silent Buffy looked down at her feet. All of them knew what was coming next and why the slayer was hesitant to forge ahead. “We are going to have to move aren’t we?” she said. “We need to get out of here. Stay one step ahead of them right?”

Wes sighed and Raj got up to distract himself with his computers. It was a conversation that neither of them had really wanted to have but both of them knew would have to come eventually. At least Spike was up and not out cold and six inches from true death.

“It would be prudent to.” Wes said softly. “But if you think perhaps Spike needs sometime to–”

“Maybe just a minute, watcher.”

None of them had noticed the door open. Spike was standing in the jam He shot both watchers a meaningful look.

“Need to speak to the slayer, Oxford.”

Over Spike’s shoulder Alex caught Raj’s eye and jerked her head towards the bedroom. Raj quickly grabbed Wesley’s shirt and dragged him into the bedroom.

Buffy glanced toward them a little confused about their wordless acquiescence.

“What’s going on, Spike?”

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m a little wigged actually.” She replied very quickly. “Everyone keeps asking me that. And I really should be asking you that but you–God, I’m so psyched that you’re up and about, Spike, but you’re usually all bratty bleach boy unless its serious and now you’re suddenly taking it like a man. vampire. Whatever. Something is serious.” She was suddenly panicked. “Wait you haven’t suddenly forgotten everything about yourself since you were a human have you? Are you going to start talking about occupations and ladies and finding ways to insult me in some sort of Jane Austen British craziness because I have enough trouble with the Giles talk as it is. Also I effuse to explain what toilets are to you.”

Spike looked at her like she was insane.

“Quick what year is it?”

“You mean it’s not 1880? And you are not some sort of she-devil tempting me with all of lucifer’s god-less electricity?”

Buffy gave him a blank look.

“You’re bloody hilarious.” He said, despite the tension he chucked. “Why would you think I had forgotten everything, pet? Last I checked the only one of us that has ever had that sort of problem was you.”

Buffy scowled at him.

“this is the memory you want to bring up right now?”

“No.” Spike said. “but it was a good one, I can still–”the look she shot him was poisonous and Spike realized belatedly that bringing up their shared past was not a good way to maintain this sudden camaraderie they had been enjoying. “Right well, the bit and I had a chat. And She was able to confirm something for me.”

“Spike, you remember what it was like after we were out of that place.” She said crossing her arms in front of her. “you aren’t exactly being helpful guy by cornering her and making her defend herself like she’s some sort of plant and they’re using her to come after us. Oh my god, you think she’s a plant! How twisted is that? You think they found themselves a fifteen year old spy?”

Spike peered at Buffy. “Slayer, is that a question or a suspicion of yours?”

Buffy immediately looked guilty and waved her hands in front of her as if she was wipe away what she had just said.

“Sorry after my psych teacher’s little shop of horrors last year and Dracula showing up in sunnyhell I’m starting to make mohra demons out of mole hills.”

“Right.” He said. “I always have to be stuck with the batty ones.”

“Spill, bleached wonder.”

“listen, Summers, this is going to be a tad unbelievable.”

“Spike–”

“Buffy,”

She stopped. She’s so rarely heard him use her name.

“Got the little birdy to sing. She is not just a potential-slayer. She’s a hybrid. Half-Aurelian vamp and half-do gooder bloody supergirl.” He paused to let that sink in. Buffy just stared at him. “She’s a hybrid. A vampire child born to a human woman. That’s what they’re doing, Buffy, Genesis used us biblically. They are making hybrids.”

“Hybrids.” Buffy repeated. “as in plural.”

Spike nodded. “they brought Alex in from another place.” He said. “not quite sure on where in particular just yet, but she’s some sort of prophesy girl and they figured out its possible and they wanted to make more.”

It took a few seconds for Buffy to put it together. She stood in the pretty plush room going over the last few weeks in her head. She had thrown up last night but she had figured that was stress, and suddenly everything made sense to her. She felt the floor drop from under her feet, for a second she was just floating and everything made sense in the worst way possible. She pressed her hand to her tummy, it was as flat as it usually was, she could feel the tense muscle underneath.

“I’m pregnant.”

Spike stilled. “Yes.”

“They did this.”

Spike nodded.

“It’s yours.”

“It’s mine.”

Buffy sank into a chair.

Spike was good at reading people. He was good at getting the tone of any situation. He could get out of it if he needed to, to turn it the way he wanted. But for the moment he was completely floored. He had no idea how she felt how she wanted him to react. She was sitting staring straight ahead her hand resting on her abdomen.

“I knew it.” She said softly.

“pet?”

“I’m not an idiot, Spike.” She snapped. She clenched her hands in her lap, clearly she was trying to keep herself from breaking something Raj would be charged for later. Spike was about to tell her they would be in the wind before they came to call but just at that moment Raj’s computer started beeping.

End Notes:
What do you think?? I took a bunch of risks here and I'd appreciate knowing if I pulled it off? let me know because I'm having some trouble with my next few moves in the games. ---

x Petra

Thanks, guys!

x
Chapter 10 - The Project by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi everyone! this is my apology chapter--for taking so long last time. But thankfully I've hit my stride and I'm going to ride it as far as I can! I know this has been relatively light on the fluffy spuffy fun but we'll get to that I promise! just a few more chapters of Bourne I can't let it be too easy!

Chapter Ten - The Project



Andie made coffee. She did this everyday once she got to work at 8, she made coffee for Dr. Woll, Dr. Laird and the other doctors working on the project. But they didn’t come in until around 9 usually. Andy knew that she should put off making the coffee, but one of the lab coats always got in early and he was the most important one as far as she was concerned.

She went through the motions of brewing and then sat at her desk. He always came in at 8:15. Always with his glasses askew and trying to carry four or five different things at once.

Simon was the only one working on the project anywhere close to Andy’s age. He was some sort of bio-wunderkid and Dr. Laird and her partner snapped him up before he could go off to Uni. Almost everyone else who worked in the office was practically middle aged, and they moved operations too often for Andy to really establish any sort of life. Her mother kept urging her to move on, but the wages were nice and Andy really felt like she was making a difference, even though she couldn’t tell her mother the bit of her job that dealt with demons and monsters.

Anyway, recently they took Simon on and they had been getting on famously.

As if on cue, just as the coffee finished brewing, he walked through the door. He was juggling a morning paper, a package of pastries, a messenger bag slung across his shoulders and trying to get through the door juggling everything. He nearly dropped the bag of pastries when Andy came to help him.

“Thanks,” he said sheepishly as she took the bag from him.

She held the bag of pastries out to him. She didn’t like to presume, but usually when Simon brought a pastry bag to work, there was one for her in there too.

“There’s a raspberry one and a cheese one in there, go ahead and take what you like.”

“Simon, you know you don’t have to do that.” She said smiling as demurely as she could. Simon had always been a little bit shy and she was a little worried if she came on too strong she'd spook him. Men never married keen girls, her mother said.

“It’s my pleasure.” He responded adjusting his glasses and then brushing past her to grab some of the fresh coffee. “You always make sure the coffee’s ready for me when I get here. The other labs I’ve worked at never had any.” he paused and grimaced. "Or they had stuff that should not be dignified with the name."

"There should be some sort of proclamation," Andie suggested slyly. She reveled in their short repartee. "You know? Any beverage calling itself coffee must contain actual beans."

He grinned at that.

Encouraged, she pressed on.

"The government's always meddling in our affairs,the might as well meddle in this." she said.

He nodded politely but didn't comment. Her heart sank, which of course distracted her enough for the silence between them to stretch too long. Andie panicked as Simon shot her his social goodbye smile and she scrambled to find something to say to keep him talking to her.

“Did you hear about that business in Germany? Terrible.”

Simon’s chin perked up, he adjusted his glasses. His eyeswere a very warm brown behind the lenses.

“We had a facility in Germany?”

Andie nodded.

“It’s where we were keeping the chimera serum.” She said with a shake of her head. She liked doing thing, giving him the heads up that things were happening. It made her feel terribly in-the-know. “Dara is going to be a nightmare for the rest of the week. I thought you should be aware to, you know, dodge out of the way or something.”

“Why would she be a nightmare?” Simon asked distractedly.

“Simon, what are you on? Because they took the serum!” She said. “We have all this security and someone just went in there and took the cure! Or at least the beginning of it. You know how important this is!”

“Took the cure?” Simon said faintly.

Andie nodded. “I have no idea how that could have happened. They have the whole place warded.”

"Right." Simon replied. She had really lost him now, he looked a bout a million miles away.

She realized that he had been working tirelessly toward this as well. Perhaps he was just as frustrated. Bugger. Maybe she should have waited and let Dr. Laird be the one to tell him.

Fuck.

"Sorry, I realize you've got quite a stake in it too, don't you? fancy a custard cream? I have them in my desk."

He wasn't listening to her. He just had this odd faraway look in his eye but he snapped to attention once she mentioned the custard creams.

“That’s awful.” he said finally.

“I know."Andie agreed immensely pleased he wasn't immediately walking away. "The last thing we need is for the vampires to unite into some sort of organization. Don’t they realize we just want to help them? D'you reckon they've sussed out a terrorist cell?”

He didn’t say anything. Andie frowned. This wasn't like Simon at all. Usually, he was a little easier to talk to, always ready with a joke or to indulge in some harmless speculation.

"Simon?"

"Simon?"




Simon had been working for the project for only a few months. He had been encouraged to apply by a friend he had met in a dungeons and dragon’s chat room a few years ago. Simon didn’t like to advertise the fact that he played dungeons and dragons, but Devraj Prasad had evolved  into an actual friend. Raj had even trusted him enough to tell him about the family business.

At first he had wanted to join the council itself, but Raj dissuaded him. Instead he turned him to the Genesis Project and said he needed information, an inside man. Simon jumped at the chance.

Andy was still talking. “They must get power mad, I understand, it must be hard not to get seduced by the romance of it and—”

“With all that happened yesterday,” Simon interrupted. “do you think they’ll come in at all?”

At that moment the door swung open and in marched Dara Laird. She was a woman in her late thirties, She had dark wiry hair tied in a top knot on her head. She wore severe spectacles perched on her nose and very dark lipstick. She was currently yelling into a cell phone.

“I don’t care what logistics you have to figure out. Do your job or else I will do mine.” She hung up abruptly. She then seemed to realize that there were other people in the room. “Andrea, set up a call with Dr. Woll.” She turned away from the secretary dismissively and focused her intense dark eyes on Simon.

“Hello, Zhang,” she said with a small tight smile. “Have you been updated?”

Simon glanced back at Andie. “Well, Andie told me about Germany—”

Dara’s face clouded over. “It’s being handled. Do you have any news for me? This would be an excellent time to have some good news.”

Simon tried to smile pleasantly. “This is what I was going to tell you, the samples have some irregularities but I can assure you that the procedure was successful. I was able to isolate the antibodies that were attacking the human cells, most of them were able to survive really well but I’m really not sure how.”

Instead of being delighted Dara’s mouth took on a grimmer line.

“I see.” She said her face didn't loose it's pinched anxiety. “that’s wonderful.”

Simon nodded. He reached into his bag and produced a few papers. “I’m afraid there are some er--problems, though, if you could give me a little more to work with I could have more definitive answers in what you are looking for.”



Dara abruptly turned on her heel and began to walk to her office at the end of the corridor.

“You were made aware when you began this project that you are to work only with the information given to you.” She said coldly.

“I understand that, Dr. Laird.” Simon said following after her and shuffling his papers about. “but a lot of what you want me to look at doesn’t quite work like that. I need to have some inkling on what I’m testing for.”

Dara turned on the heel on her sensible shoes.

“No.” she said simply. “You really don’t. I chose you for this because you are good, Simon. You are very bright and show tremendous promise and Dr. Carraway speaks very highly of you, but you are a small cog in a large process and someone else will look at the results. We need you to get the work done.”

Simon slumped a little.

“I only want to help.” He said.

Dara softened slightly. “You are.” She said. “Now I have an incredible amount on my mind. Excuse me.”

“Dr. Laird, Dr. Woll for you!”

Dara abruptly dismissed him and went into her office. Simon sighed. He glanced over at Andy and she shrugged apologetically.

Simon sighed and began to walk towards his desk. Trying to do so as quietly as possible. He could hear what was going on beyond the door.

“—you’ve sent the team?” she said. ”Perfect. Have you been able to ascertain what they know?” there was a pause. “You need to keep on it. I don’t want that watcher anywhere near--” another pause. “And ensure that you have—“

Whatever she was saying it faded off into the background. Simon glanced up to see if anyone had noticed; but theywere alone in the office, no one else had come in. The only one who had been around to see him lurk was Andie who had been scared back to her filing. And if he was being perfectly honest, he was sure he would have been able to dissuade her anyway. Simon made it to his desk and typed up a few quick updates for Raj into the phone his friend had given him. It was risky to do something like that at work. He was about to type up a warning about them finding it when he heard Dara’s door open. He hurriedly slipped the bulky Nokia phone into a secret compartment in his bag.

“Simon,” Dara said padding up toward him. “I wanted to--I mean that I don’t mean to be short with you.”

He stood abruptly. It was unlike Dara to be this forthcoming. Usually she was pretty quick to bark out orders. He wondered what brought about the abrupt turn around.

“Dr. Laird.” He said. “It’s perfectly fine. I am an intern after all. Lowest rung on the food chain. I was just getting over excited. I’ve been known to do that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Dara said with the smile Simon was accustomed to. “I was projecting. Now it’s being dealt with. What was the problem you were worrying?”

Simon couldn't believe his blind luck. Whatever it was she was happy about maybe he could translate it into a few more pieces of the puzzle. He was sure about their operations, between Raj and Ravi they had a handle on exactly what this 'cure' was, but Simon was a researcher, and any added information was good.

“It’s this latest sample. Number 6755? It’s the only one that’s worked.” he said. “ Every other one I’ve done the antibodies in the blood attacked the cells making them impossible to combine even the get the genes to sequence properly even with Eve’s cells. I am just trying to find out why this is working so I can replicate it.”

“I believe it was because those cells were properly incubated.” Dara said with a thoughtful frown.

“so you think that the cure is going to involve a quarantine period?” He said thinking out loud. “I’m just not sure we’re going to be able to get every vampire in the world into a cell and properly take their meds. “

“That is why you are working so very hard to enrich this blood.” She encouraged gently. “Simon if we want to rid the world of the vamp plague, we’re going to insert that specific gene into the sequence. And then we feed them this blood with them none the wiser.”

Simon couldn’t help the nervous furrow of his brow.

“You want to know where the gene came from?”

He hesitated and then nodded.

“Slayers blood.” She said simply. “There is a slayer in prison, it was just a matter of course to get the US department of Corrections to let her donate. She wanted to help our cause, it’s rather a good one don’t you think?”

Simon wondered where the lies started. Was this really slayers blood? Was he working with the pregnant slayer? He had so much data in front of him and zero context. He wondered also if there really was another slayer, other than the one he knew he had already contributed some of these samples who was decidedly not in a Los Angeles prison. Something to clarify with Raj at some point. He grinned to cover the wheels turning in his mind.

“I’ll do my best, I’ll run some tests on the Eve genome.” Simon said. “perhaps there’s an answer in there.”

That seemed to placate Dr. Laird. “That’s the ticket, Zhang.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Doc.”

“Just do whatever you think is best. Don't worry about stupid questions.” Dara said sagely. “I hired students because I don’t want you encumbered by what you think you should do. I want new ideas.”

She turned and headed back to her office. Simon watched her and shook his head. He hoped he wasn’t too late to warn Raj. He shot his friend an encrypted text and hope he had time to look at it. He wasn’t sure what kind of trouble Raj was in, but this internship was a lot more than what Simon Zhang had bargained for.





*****



The beeping stopped both Spike and Buffy in their tracks, unsure of what to do. Fortunately Raj burst through the door, panicked and sputtering obscenities that wold have made Spike blush. Wes following him out frowning and nervous. He glanced apologetically at the pair, he knew what they were discussing was extraordinarily difficult to deal with—and this was probably not helping any.

“This better be important, wonderboy.” Spike growled.

Raj didn’t even take notice of the irritated vampire.

“Bugger, bugger, blast.” He exclaimed as part of a litany of frustration that encompassed several languages one of which Buffy was sure was made up. He began typing furiously on one of the keyboards and scanned the screens jumping from one to the other guided by some stimulus no one else understood. After a few minutes of frenzied but oddly controlled activity Raj jumped to his feet sending the chair flying out behind him and he frantically began to unplug the machines.

“Devraj?” Wes pressed.

Raj flinched seeming to only just notice that the rest of the group was staring at him.

“That was an automated alarm.” Raj said, “Basically they tripped up some of my booby traps and bypassed most of the firewall but this is sort of my last line of defense—so I know they’re coming.” He looked apologetic as he packed his equipment away. “I’m so sorry but I think that I have been made, they have compromised my whole system. I was careful, I only siphoned off bit by bit I didn’t think that they would be looking at the—”He noticed the blank looks everyone else was giving him. “This is not a drill. They are coming here and we need to leave.”

No one else had any possession to gather so they stood watching awkwardly as Raj packed his computers into cases. Wes was studying Spike and Buffy uneasily but neither super being met his eyes.

“How long have we got?”

There was something in Buffy’s voice that made even Raj stop and look at her. It was as if some sort of switch had been flicked. Since she had come to them, Buffy had been hesitant, oddly unsure of herself and her abilities. Right now, she didn’t look lik the scared girl Raj had met a few long days ago. She looked like the Buffy Summers he had been told about. The longest living slayer he had ever heard of.

“Well?” She prompted.

“An hour tops.” Raj said simply. “I’m not sure if they already had people in the area but from where they were in Germany if they had access to any aircraft they could be here in no time."

Buffy nodded. She paused for a second and then looked at Spike. She seemed to be communicating with the vampire through sheer mind control. The vampire nodded.

“We need to go, then. Now.” She said. “Is there any access to the sewers from this building?”

Spike set his jaw.

“Slayer— ”

Buffy silenced the vampire with a look.

“I want to fight too, Spike.” She said her eyes all flinty. “I want to cause some major movie magic pain and bring it to them. I am going to make them hurt and I am going to find those two assholes with blue gloves and I’m going to rip off their hands. But I’ve been doing this a long time and I know when we need make the strategic-like retreat. We need some serious reinforcements--not to mention you need time to rest.” Off his look she dropped the steel in her spine just a little. “You had blood coming out of your ears a few hours ago.” She said softly. “I don’t want the next time to be brains.”

Spike gritted his teeth but nodded.

She grinned wickedly.

"You can't really spare those." She said.

Spike just chucked and shook his head. "Gettin' predictable there, luv."

He turned on his heel and disappeared into the other room.

Buffy turned back to Raj.

“What about all the passport and identities?” she asked Raj.

He shook his head. “They might have seen those—probably best not to take any chances and assume all my alias are burned. I could just go as Devraj Prased I guess the Council still thinks I’m technically on bereavement leave. But I’m not sure what to do about Alex.”

“We’ll just have to hope they don’t ask for identification.” Wesley piped in solemnly. “We should be fine here on the continent but I hesitate so try and go anywhere else without something official.”

“I have a friend or two in Prague who maybe able to help with that.” Spike piped up, he had returned to the room with his coat and a large blanket rolled up under one arm. He shrugged into his duster and rolled his shoulder muscles as he said it. “Got a few blokes who owe me a few favors.”

Wes considered him carefully.

“From your time there with Drusilla?”

Spike nodded, he glanced at Buffy to gauge her reaction but she was distracted, staring out the window as if she would eventually be able to see the helicopters. Spike turned his attention back to the others.

“Yeah, hence the favors. They’re good people or not people. Good demons, sort of slimy though so just keep your hands in your pockets and everything’ll be coming up roses.”

Wes eyes him skeptically and glanced towards the slayer. Buffy looked away from the window and met the watcher’s questioning gaze.

“We’re going to Prague.” She said. “If Spike says we can find things there then we can find things there. He is survival guy.”

Meanwhile Raj had finished setting up his machines all except for his cellphone on which he tapped a few keys.

“The border is not that far from here.” He said. “and I picked this place because of the underground garage. It might have been a mistake though—something tells me that would probably make this their first target.”

Alex had been steadily shoving pastries in her mouth, watching the back and forth from the corner.

“What do we do after that?” she asked suddenly.

“Not really thinking about that right now there, junior.” Spike said.

She nodded. “Right now we are getting out of here before anyone can figure anything out from Raj’s cyber hit and run.”

Raj shot her a weird look.

“One of these days I’m going to explain all my little quips to you and we’ll look back at these you ignorant days and we’ll just laugh and laugh.”

They headed out into the hallway. Spike hurried passed the elevator and wrenched the door to the stairs open. Raj opened his mouth to protest when Alex shook her head at him.

“Elevators are a classic Kill box.” She said helpfully. "Don't question, just go."

They trooped down the stairs, the trip was quick as Vienna’s building rarely had more than 12 floors. However, just as they were reaching the basement landing both Spike and Alex stopped simultaneously. They tense, listening for a stimulus only they could hear.

“Other side of that door.” Spike rumbled. “3 of them.”

Buffy turned to him.

“3 of them?” she demanded.

Alex nodded.

The Slayer stood for a moment, as if paralyzed with fear. Then she rolled her eyes and shoved the metal briefcase she had been carrying at Wesley who took it as well as the bag of cords before any of them realized what she was doing.

“Wait shouldn’t we—”

She threw open the metal doors and found herself in the sight of three laser sights attached to three black clad commandos.

“Well, if it In’t the broodmare.”

“Spike, get a car.” She said without turning around.

“The girls arrive alive.” The lead man said to the others. “Rest of them can r—”

The voice was familiar. Buffy flashed back to being huddled up against Spike freezing and petrified trying not to breathe to keep them from spotting them. She didn’t let him finish his statement she wrenched the handle off the door and threw it with deadly accuracy at his head. Her movement drove him to pull the trigger but the door handle had hit him in the face and his shots bounces off the ceiling harmlessly. In the same moment, Buffy took a running jump and sent both of her legs into a chest kick. That downed both her and the second commando. But before the third man could even process what was happening, she swept her leg under him, taking out his feet. He crumpled like a ton of bricks. She then flipped to her feet and kicked him in the head to make sure he was out.

She stepped over the supine bodies and rolled her eyes.

“Three?” she demanded. “They have helicopters and a budget the size of a small nation’s. And three? I think I’m insulted!”



 



 


Chapter 11 - The Romance of Train Travel part I by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hello All!

I promised I would be uploading more regularly and here I am! I just needed to get over the hump I think but I am up and running and all the reviews are really helping so this is a nice long one--and part II should be up soon! Fluffy Spuffy fun soon I promise!
Chapter Eleven - The Romance of Train Travel Part I



There was a crackle from one of the goons.

“Team leader what is your status?”

“I think there’s probably more coming, luv.”

“Thank god, it’s not just a pathetic three because that is just—”

The rest of the company were loading the bags into the trunk, but Raj actually stopped to look at her.

Spike just smirked at him and then turned back to the slayer and gestured for her to get in the car. She slid into the front seat filled with piss and vinegar and every inch the warrior he had met in Sunnydale.

“What are you smirking at, Spike?” she demanded.

Spike didn’t reply, He didn’t want to go all ponce-y on her now. But she had fire in her eyes he had not seen that in a little while and he didn't want to do anything to dislodge it. While he was reminiscing, Wesley reached down and grabbed one of the downed commando’s radios, he cleared his throat and did his best to impersonate the rough cockney.

“The slayer’s not ‘ere. We’re all alone ‘ere. Maybe check the next place.” He paused, shrugging at the surprised looks on everyone's face and looked bewildered even at himself. “How are you?”

“You sound fucking weird, Roddy. Confirm with your personal code!”

“Er-er-“ Wes looked stricken and then dropped the walkie-talkie on the floor and stomped on it as hard as he could. “We need to get out of here.”

One of the goons on the ground groaned just as they were shuffling the seating arrangements to keep Spike in the back and out of the sunlight. Wes threw himself into the front seat and they pealed out of the garage and onto the Ringerstrasse.



*****



Wesley got them to the train station in under ten minutes. They pulled into closest parking spot to shade they could find and Spike sprinted out under his duster and the blanket he had brought from their hotel. The rest of them grabbed what they could of Raj’s equipment and tore into the train station. Several black clad commandos were already there. Alex spotted them immediately as they signaled to each other and talked into their shirts. She nudged Wesley and pointed them out. She then slipped a ten euronote to a vendor and grabbed a Vienna beanie. She shoved it over her red hair.

Spike and Buffy were scanning the departures.

“I don’t see a train to Prague.” Buffy said helpfully.

“Bugger. What’s the next train? to anywhere?”

“Venice is leaving in 2 minutes.”

“We could make a run for it.” Raj piped up.

“They would definitely notice us.” Alex countered.

“They’re on the other side of the station. They won’t reach in time.” Spike replied confidently.

“So we run?” Buffy asked.

“Run.”

And they took off towards the platform. The remaining commandos spotted them immediately attempted to follow them. Spike, Buffy and the rest pushed past people and on one occasion, Alex had to jump over a child.

Buffy swerved around a couple who had stopped to take a long look at the departures’ board and kept going. She glanced next to her, knowing that Spike would be keeping up with her step for step. Wesley and Raj had lagged behind a little. They had been running for a little while but something felt different about this. She wasn’t petrified, she realized. She didn’t feel like she was trapped in a little box just waiting for someone up above to kill her. One glance at Spike and she knew he was feeling that too.

She could see the train in front of her, she could see the train employees starting to put away luggage and she could hear them calling out for a final warning. Just then a shot rang out across the station, Buffy cursed heavily, she had forgotten she was dealing with humans. She glanced at Spike to see him falter. She was moving too fast to stop anything and it all happened in slow motion. Whatever they were shooting had caught Spike in the back near his right shoulder. It must have come from some where to the right of them because the force of the shot propelled the vampire stumbling to the right, toward the neighboring tracks and the gap in the awnings.

Buffy did her best to stop, she reached out instinctively just as Spike hit the lip of the pavements. She didn’t have time to cry out, she could see everything moving in slow motion. Spike was falling over the side, unable to fight against the momentum, and just as suddenly as it all happened an hand stuck out to pull him back.

She thought for a minute it was Alex. But the girl was actually ahead of them, she had been yelling at the conductors in German. It had been Wesley whom she had just been thinking about lagging behind them. The former watcher must have honed his reflexes because they both tumbled in a heap, a few feet to the left. She was at their side in mili-seconds dragging both of them up and half carrying Spike onto the train.

Pandemonium had broken out behind them, but none of them realized what was going on. Whatever it was no one had told the conductor because train was moving already as they reached it. Fewer than 3 seconds had passed since she heard the shot. Alex got there first and wrenched open the door between compartments.

Something whizzed past her ear.

“bullets or tranqs?” Buffy exclaimed pushing Spike on the train and leaping on after him.

They both reached out to pull Wes on. A few feet behind him sprinted Raj who lobbed his bag into the train and huffed and puffed. He reached out a hand and nearly slipped but Alex was suddenly behind him and she half pushed him onto the train. There was volley of bullets. Then the commandos burst through the wall of people screaming and trying to take cover. The train had already left the platform, but Buffy could make them out the only ones calm in a sea of panic.

“Tranqs.” Alex answered nodding at Spike who was passed out on the train floor.


*****

“Buffy, we can’t stay on this train. They are just going to cut us off at the next station.” Alex said logically from her place crouched next to Spike.

The train was nearly empty or at least the car was which was god because Buffy was pretty sure their presence would be noticed. As it was there was just three passengers to witness them. One was a teenager, eyes glued to a magazine with headphones leaking base she could hear across the car, and the other two were an old couple; the woman was sleep and the man was staring at them like he was unsure if what he was seeing was really happening of if his wits have finally failed him.

“Raj,” Buffy said hurriedly. “Do you think you can Visa Black the conductor to make a stop somewhere?”

Raj nodded but Wesley shook his head.

“As this is Austria I find that highly unlikely.” He said. “Our best bet would be to try and use the threat factor.” He glanced meaningfully at a slumbering Spike.

Buffy nodded, she had a plan, but it needed mulling. It was pretty cruel but it would kill two birds with one stone.

“I have an idea.” She said. “Alex do you think you can carry him?”

Alex nodded without hesitation.

“Do you also have anything pointy on you?”

Alex produced a wicked looking dagger from seemingly nowhere and handed it to Buffy wordlessly.

“You had that on you the whole time?” Raj demanded, he studied the girl in askance. “Where do you keep it?”

“Wesley smacked him upside the head.

“Too sharp.” The slayer said with a bemused smile.

Taking her meaning Alex rummaged through the tote bag of Raj’s stuff she was carrying and came up with a screwdriver. Wes pointed towards the head of the train and Buffy and Alex hurried off.

Buffy threw open the door. The conductor protested in surprise in a German or Italian, but Buffy didn’t listen.

“You speak English?” the slayer demanded brandishing Alex’s dagger.

The man held his hands up and nodded. He was wondering what commotion had happened as he was leaving the station. Maybe this was it.

“Make a stop at the closest underground station.” She demanded. “Or I will let him loose.”

She glanced at Alex who quickly jabbed the screwdriver into Spike’s side and the vampire woke instantly, growling in pain and retribution.

3 minutes later, they were standing in an empty U-bahn station. Spike held onto his injured side and was cursing so comprehensively and creatively that he had to be using a demon language or two. Alex was comforting him as best she could while clearly trying not to giggle.

“Bloody hell, Slayer, you are a right bitch you know that?”

“If there was another way I would have done it.” Buffy said apologetically. “Now stop being a big baby and help me map out a next move.”

“I liked you better when you were playing nurse.” Spike growled at her. “And you got the nibblet involved. I can never trust you two ever again.”

Buffy rolled her eyes knowing that a complain-y Spike was an okay Spike. “I’m sure your tender haunches will find a way to get better. You can complain the whole way to Prague.”

Spike glowered at her, and adjusted his coat. "Oh, I intend to."

“Best thing to do would be to take the tunnels back to the station.” He said. “There’s another one in Vienna, We go there, we take another train out.”

“Are you sure this is the best idea and not, for instance,” Raj spoke up glancing through the dark tunnel. “a one way trip to being strawberry preserve all over the tracks?”

Spike smirked.

“Not with vamp hearing. S'a tried and true way to get around a city.” He said. He tapped his ears. “Listen for trains, avoid them, old vamp trick. Why do you think there are so bloody many of us in Paris? The whole place built on tunnels. Have you got a torch in there, boyscout?”

Raj nodded and pulled out a little emergency penlight.

Buffy looked dubiously at the paltry light source.

The hacker shrugged. “I didn’t know we would be tunnel trekking I’d have brought my super special spelunking torch.”

The trek wasn’t long, the train had barely had enough time to put on speed before they got off so they were only a kilometer or so to the station. They had to take around about way of it to dodge a few u-bahn trains. They got back to the Vienna West Bahnhoff and Alex vaulted onto a shaded platform pulling up Raj and Wesley while Buffy helped Spike up, it was hard to believe he was still recovering from his injuries from the previous night’s activities, the slayer’s blood and adrenaline was working wonders for his system.

It made sense to split up then—but stay within eye-line. Alex, Buffy and Raj headed off trying to look like back packers. While Spike and Wesley walked more purposefully in front. Without Spike’s trademark bleached hair, he passed for respectable, though they had thought to throw on one of Wesley’s button downs over his black shirt. Thankfully the dark wardrobe hid all the bloodstains.

At first they didn’t notice any commandos, but after a few moments they became clear. There was one plain clothed guy who clearly was speaking into his lapel. Spike snuck up behind him and tapped him lightly on the temples and then supporting his fall, settling him unerringly onto a bench.

Wes was studying him intently as they strode through the train station trying to look inconspicuous.

“Something for you, Oxford?” The vampire asked still scanning the crowd for anyone suspicious. "My grandsire never let on we know how to do the quick and quiet-like?

“I’ve just seen Angel do things like that and all. I was under the impression it was not your style.”

Spike shrugged. “Can be if it suits me.” He wasn’t sure when he had shifted back to his North London accent, but it felt oddly good to be talking like himself again. “Angel was my sire for all intents and purposes and that bugger is a controlling ass. He liked to see me work this kind of thing so he could sweep though like some sort of princeling after and not get his cuffs and collars wet. Still not convinced that Rice woman didn’t meet Angelus in his heyday and decided to write le Stat.”

Wesley smiled, it was interesting to hear stories from his friend’s past from a different perspective.For starters, he was fairly sure Angel didn't know who Anne Rice was.

“Oxford, Stop your musing and keep your focus, yeah?”

Despite Spike’s worry, their second trek through Vienna’s main train station was largely uneventful. Buffy ducked a few more commandos who seemed to be doing a sweep. And Raj got the bright idea to have Alex sans beanie and therefore the most recognizable buy tickets for Berlin. They then very conspicuously boarded the train for Berlin. Each sneaking out from a different exit to cross the tracks for the train to Prague.

They settled into an empty compartment with a minute or so to spare. They remained vigilant the entire time, waiting for the train to move. It was only after the train had started speeding up and the Vienna cityscape gave way to countryside that they began to relax.

They were all sitting slumped over, pretending not to be alert for every noise and wary of every passer-by. Their compartment was a study in forced non-chalance. Raj was typing something onto his brick of a cellular phone. Wesley brought up the possibility of a drink. Buffy watched the scenery whizz by. Spike and Alex, however, were not even pretending to relax.

Alex's shoulders were tense. She could clearly feel Spike's piercing blue eyes, boring into her as she studied the floor. She knew he was going to start any minute if she didn’t say anything.

It was, however, Buffy who broke the silence.

“Alright, Mysterio-girl.” Her voice cut into everyone's brooding. “There’s clearly something you aren’t telling us. So spill.”

Alex glanced up in surprise.

Buffy’s face was serious. “Why does everyone think I’m Rebecca of Sunnybrook farm? I’ve lived with that bump on my nose my whole life you think I wouldn’t recognize it on someone else?”



*****



Sitting in her office at Project Headquarters in North London, Dara Laird all but threw the telephone handset at the receiver. She bowed her head over her desk and seethed. Somehow the slayer and vampire had slipped through her fingers yet again. Worse, she could see from footage at their German facility that they were being aided by someone. She wasn’t sure who, but someone who had advanced computer skills since every single one of the tapes from the surveillance system had been scrambled beyond recognition. Whoever they were they were good, she had thought her system was un-hackable. She had concluded that it must be some organization because they also knew about the hybrid girl that Dara had gone through a literal hell of trouble to procure and seemed to have infrastructure in place to elude the Project retrieval specialists, Mostly South African mercenaries accustomed to procuring blood diamonds. Her investors had deep pockets but they also had pretty shallow reserves of patience, and Dara was beginning to get worried.

For a millisecond she considered that the leak in intel was Francis, but Francis had all the sophistication of a middle class victorian social climber: All ambition and few people skills. It was hard, however, not to blame him since most of her hell started when they had hit a wall and Francis had though to bring another watcher—this one specializing in genetics into their fold. Ravi Prasad had turned out to be a very bad idea. His death was very high profile and he had a son—a low level watcher brat whom Dara had worried about, but had apparently not signed out of his online role playing game except for about five hours around dawn since his father’s funeral. They dubbed it Warcraft Watch and it had become a favorite rotation among the IT guys. It Couldn't be Buff's witchy-computer savvy friend, they were monitoring her computer activity as well. So who the bloody hell was doing it?

“Bad news then?” Dara’s friend and mentor, Martin Woll asked from his place leaning against the bookshelf.

Dara said nothing, just nodded rubbing her temples.

“You knew the risk when you took on the vampire.” Martin said gently. “William the bloody is extremely adept of wiggling out of tight spaces. He escaped the American Military and you knew you would not be able to contain him for long.”

“There was an outside factor I didn’t foresee.” Dara muttered in defense but knew that Martin was just trying—but failing—to make her feel better.

“Samples from lesser vampires were not working, Laird.” Martin continued. “We needed it to be William the bloody, his bloodline held the most potential. Were you at least able to ascertain positive results?”

“There are samples processing”

“They’ve been gone three weeks and they are still in processing?” Martin demanded. “Get me the samples. we could pop right down the road to a chemist and you’ll know in fifteen minutes!”

“Its not as simple as that, Woll.” Dara said. “with undead samples the markers are all different. We had to figure out what differences there were from the baseline and create the test first.”

Martin sighed.

“Did you try it?”

“I am not an idiot, Martin, of course I tried it.” She snapped using his given name to demonstrate her irritation with him. “it came up negative, every time.”

“Dara, why couldn’t you have just studied something stable like neurosurgery? Paranormal neonatal research obstetrics was the only thing that you found any interest in?”

Dara shot him a look that told him she was clearly not in the mood for him trying to steer her away from her specialty.

“You’re going to get calls from them soon, you know.”

“I know, Martin.”

“I know you know, Dara, I also know you know they’ll rip you a new one if they find out just how much trouble the slayer has caused. And I mean that literally they will find a grolaaak demon and he will create a—”

“Shut up, Martin!”

There was silence in the room for a long moment. Then, a ding sounded on her computer. The IT guys never called, they were a little afraid of her so she got periodic e-mails from them. This usually irritated her to no end, but right now she was grateful for the distraction.

She clicked open the e-mail and read its contents someone saw a girl matching the hybrid's description getting on a train to Berlin and for the first time that day, Dara smiled.



*****



Simon was checking his bags every few seconds. His little lab table was in an inconspicuous corner, but the open plan of the Project Headquarter’s labs meant that no one was completely cosseted from everyone else.

He wasn’t sure if he had done the right thing. While the Nokia was usually good enough to get in touch with Raj, he didn’t get anything back from his friend. He knew that a direct text could compromise Raj’s encryption, something about the network. Raj had explained it once but Simon had forgotten it, he only had enough headspace for organic chemistry or Raj’s crazy spycraft and Orgo won out.

“Why do you keep checking your bag, Zhang?”

Simon’s blood ran cold. He turned to smile at Ritika Singh. She was one of the brightest women in the lab, and she was forever fussing over him, like a second mother—despite knowing he could lie better than most people, Simon still got a little jittery around these people who were also clearly smarter than the average evil sociopathic sadist organization. If he could just nail this little fib, though, he knew he would be golden.

“H-hi, Ritika.” He said smiled shyly. “I don’t want to talk about it it’s stupid. I’m not even sure how much I like her.”

There, he thought that would get the attention of busybody in the lab. He shifted uncomfortably under her delighted gaze and deliberately did not meet her eye.

“Stupid? How can it be stupid? Simon, are you texting with a girl?”

Simon sighed. Small and subtle, was the way to go. Ritika would take it from there.

“If you can call it that.” He said in self-deprecating tones. “I texted her at least. I just keep checking to see if she’s replied.”

Ritika looked overjoyed. She was about to insist he explain everything to her, but the microwave dinged and she had to go back to her experiments.

“I want to hear all about her later!” she demanded conspiratorially.

Simon nodded reluctantly. “Just don’t tell anyone?” he said knowing she was going to blab to everyone in the office. “I don’t know if this is actually going anywhere and I just don’t everyone nosing in, you know.”

Ritika grinned conspiratorially. “of course not.”

She glanced down at his phone which read: Hope you made it back alright, Katie. Did you have fun last night? shall we meet tonight? SZ

The phone dinged before Simon could pull away the phone, Ritika read the text and giggled. So sweet to check in! 2 l8 tho! Out of London @ the mo, left early to beat the traffic. Call u nxt wk? xoXO

Ritika did her best to stifle a squeal. She squeezed his arm and toddled off.

Simon sighed letting his shoulders sag. He was so glad Raj made it out of dodge in time, especially since Simon had to compromise the system integrity to warn him. Now that he didn't have to worry his friend was in immediate danger, Simon wondered where on earth Raj had learned to text so convincingly like a flirty, maybe a little drunk college girl.




*****





She wasn’t sure what to say to the expectant slayer or the master vampire or the watcher or Raj. She sort of just sat a little dumbstruck at the sudden interrogation.

“Spike told you.”

“Spike told me about the hybrid status.” Buffy said. “But you have the exact same fighting stance as me and in the tunnels you made a crack about your nose and instead of being commiserating Buffy I thought ‘don’t you dare axe that beak it’s what gives your face character’ which is what my mom always said to me. Sonow I'm kinda on the side of wig.”

“What happened to the ordeal I’ve been through?” she sputtered a little helplessly.

Buffy shrugged. “Immediate danger is over and you’re half vampire. Color me having an immediate stake in knowing what you’re doing here.” She glanced meaningfully at her belly. Before glancing pointedly at Alex. “So spill, Alex, if that is your real name.”

“Yeah.” The damphyr said finally. “It’s my real name. It's short for Alexis.” She took a long moment there, everyone in the compartment was staring at her, at the edge of their seats all except for Spike who was leaning back, but still watching her intently. “and I was born February 22, 2004.”

She waited for the exclamations of disbelief but her announcement was met with stunned silence.

“so when I was born, there was this prophesy.” She took a deep breath and recited it just as she had many times before. “There is a gift, given from the powers above and beyond. At the end of all things, the chosen will lose her champion and be given her reward. More than chosen, more than demon her time is limited here, at the peak of the sun she will go in the blaze of glory to walk with the original slayer she will take her place with the warriors of old and theirs will be the stuff of legend, which becomes myth.”

“It doesn’t rhyme.” Buffy commented after a moment. “Shouldn’t prophesies rhyme?”

Alex looked at her incredulously.

“It may have rhymed in Ancient Zulu which is what the prophesy was written in. Its not like people wrote in English then.” She paused. “I’m not sure English was a thing yet.”

“Translating from ancient African languages can be extremely difficult.” Wesley spoke up. “There’s so little we have in common with them anything beyond fire and enemy and spear can be tricky.”

“That’s why he earns the middling to little bucks.” Raj piped up with a little grin, he nodded encouraging at Alex.

Alex smiled at them both, grateful they were trying to lift the mood. She couldn't read Buffy's intent gaze and she couldn't even look at Spike.

“It’s about me and I’ve known about it for as long as I can remember because my mom’s been worrying about it since before I can remember. At least until…” Alex trailed off and looked back down at her boots. “Until she passed away. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this nonstop since last night. Ever since Wesley asked me how to get me home. Because.” She looked around. “I think I’m there. Where I’m from, which is—the last date I remember is December 21, 2018—there isn’t just the one slayer. There are hundreds. All of them chosen in 2003 when my mom did a spell to activate them all to save the world. She said my dad died in that battle, that the only reason she and I survived was because Dad sacrificed himself to save the world. That’s why I’m named Alexis because she wanted to find a name that was special to him, and also after my uncle Xander. Mom wanted to honor everyone so on my birth certificate back home it says Alexis Joyce Tara Anyanka Summers Pratt.” She grimaced and nodded preempting any response from the assembled group. “Please just call me Alex?”

Buffy was still studying her intently, but Spike looked surprised at the naming. He caught Alex's eye and shook his head. Her eyes widened in comprehension and she shut her mouth with an audible click. Luckily, Buffy was too interested in the prophesy part of Alex's story to notice the naming convention.

“But the prophesy says that you’ll be with the original slayer.” Buffy said. “I’ve met her, she- she’s like this power primeval creature. She could probably translate your prophesy.”

“That’s the first slayer.” Alex said simply. “I thought-My grandpa thought it meant her also. But I realize that maybe it meant you. We started calling you the original slayer after you, er...” She trailed off looking uncomfortable. "To erm, honor you."

The compartment was quiet for a second. They had known Alex for less than 24 hours and yet none of them had really questioned the wisdom of trusting her, there was sense she was connected somehow, only Spike had put all the pieces together. But even he couldn’t have deduced this. Alex looked every inch her Fifteen years sitting with her hands knotted together, clearly trying to keep from crying.

Buffy studied the girl in front of her, actually taking in her features for the first time. She had a thin face with high cheekbones and startling blue eyes. The slayer kicked herself, it was quite obvious now who fathered her. Everything on her face belonged to Spike even the golden brown of her hair. Alex’s features were just softer and more delicate; It was all Spike's. Except her nose. Buffy had only just come to terms with that nose.

She wished she knew what to say to the girl, but she didn’t. Instead she asked the questions she couldn’t keep herself from asking.

“Alex, How do I die?”

“You were shot.” She said a little shakily. “God, it was so stupid. There was this demon terrorizing a bank and there was a team of us sent after him and we got him but some idiot with a gun panicked and started shooting everywhere and he caught you right in the heart and I kept waiting for the doctor to say it was a miracle and any other human would have survived but that never came.” She hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes. “but that’s not how you die here I don’t think.” She said gesturing around them. “Because none of this happened there. There was no Genesis and there was No gallivanting around Europe with Spike and Wesley—” she paused. “Hangs out with Angel. I’m not sure if I should have told you all this but I just couldn’t keep lying and pretending and I hate Kim Kardashian but I couldn’t think of anything else because I was looking at my father for the first time. And he was so close to dying again and I’m really not sure what happened or if telling you all of it just bollocksed everything up and – and—I think I need some air.”

Before anyone could say anything else Alex got up and sprinted from the room.

End Notes:
So what did you guys think? Was that what you were expecting with Alex?
Chapter 12 - The Romance of Train Travel part II by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi all, sorry this one was a while to get out, there's some thorny stuff here I wasn't sure would be a little too soon, but we'll see what you all think!

Chapter Twelve – The Romance of Train Travel part II



Alex sat on the cheap orange vinyl seats sipping a coke and feeling silly for running out of the compartment. She wasn’t sure if she should just cut her losses and go back in. She knew it was stupid to bail, but she couldn’t stop herself. She had been thinking about what she would say to her mom whenever she saw her again and she had been rehearsing what she was going to say to her dad since she could talk. And that stupid babble that bubbled up from her gut was definitely not in the script.

Now in hindsight the prophesy she had followed her around since her birth was pretty easy to interpret.

Grandpa Giles had always figured it meant she was going to die which her mother had always assured her was not going to happen and if it was, they would burn that bridge when they came to it. Then, when she thought Alex was out of earshot she would look at Giles and say “3rd time’s the charm.” And she was right, or maybe she wasn't. Trying to figure out if this timeline had gone completely askew was giving her a headache. Because Alex had just been sitting across from her, fighting beside her and watching her bicker with Spike. William the bloody, Alex’s father and the slayer of slayers.

She had been told stories about Spike. As far back as she could remember. He was her mother's champion, and even her uncle Xander who hated him said that Spike had died to save them all. Her aunt Willow used to tell her about that time he offered to bite her because he knew she was so low, and that was when he was evil. And now he was there. She still didn’t know how she felt about him. He was everything she had been told and less and more. And she was pretty sure she was currently in some kind of shock because she really had no clue what she was feeling and she had always thought people like that were being dramatic.

She heard footsteps approaching and the sliding compartment door open and shut. She knew she’d have to face him sooner or later.

“You’re shorter than I always thought, you know?”

“Really?” replied a wry voice. “Because if it’s because I’m Asian, I’m not sure that’s cool.”

Alex started in surprise.

“I thought you were—”

“Yeah.” Said Raj. “I know. He’s looking for you too but he’s been a vampire for 120 years, I’m not sure he even remembers that there are dining cars. I expect he’s looking to find you sitting alone in another compartment stoically trying not to cry.”

“I don’t feel like crying.” Alex informed him archly.

“Maybe not.” Raj replied. “but you’ve rehearsed that speech everyday since you can remember and have been adjusting it to whatever scenario you can come up with. I’m willing to wager this incarnation was something that took the bulk of last night. Did it got as well as you wanted?”

Alex glowered at him silently. He waited.

“You were there.” She said miserably.

“Right, well, I’ve also been rehearsing my own speeches.” He signaled for beer and an overweight sales girl in goth makeup handed him a plastic cup filled with a slightly foamy Budweiser--the Czech kind. “My mum died when I was little and my father—” Raj stopped and took a deep drink of his beer. “My dad passed on a month ago. All I’ve thought about since I saw him was revenge, but even with all that I have this speech ready in multiple variations in case I ever see him again. Her too. Hers is nicer, I've had more time to work on it.” He took a long drink of the beer. “You and I have that in common. That and the insane hope.” He glanced at her to see if she was listening. She was. “Growing up knowing what we know, Death doesn’t stick like it does for other people. So we hope when other people don’t, sometimes and in some ways I suppose, that’s worse." he paused to drink again and Alex took a drink of her coke, mulling over his words. "We make speeches and we practice them because we hope that one day we’ll get the chance to deliver them. Maybe there’s something mystical we just haven’t discovered yet that will bring them back to hear it."

Alex nodded. That was exactly it. Something she had sort of held onto with that prophesy. Maybe she would go somewhere else and meet her mum and dad there.

"I know how that feels, but I never got the dream. You did, and yet something tells me that delivering that speech, doesn’t always feel like you think it’s going to. So I thought maybe it would be best if you could recover and collect your thoughts with someone who isn’t” he paused and then cringed. “Your long dead father who saved the world and happens to be a vampire.”

Alex choked on her coke. There was something about hearing it out loud in a train that made it just seem all the more ludicrous.

“Forgive me, there really was no gentler way to put it.” Raj said relieved that the teenager seemed to be laughing. Her mirth, however, petered out and Alex looked at him seriously.

“I’ve messed up but good.” She said. “I don’t think I should have even told them about all of it.”

It was Raj’s turn to laugh. “About you being their child? You had to tell us.” He said continuing and not really acknowledging Spike’s insight into it. “because we need to know how to proceed. We’re out. We’ve outrun them for now. It’s our move.”

“You’re taking this action hero re-cast pretty well.” Alex said. “for an IT guy.”

“That's what it looks like?” Raj said sounding pleased. “Excellent, because I’m petrified. I’m glad I’m inspiring some confidence. I’m far more accustomed to controlling some sort of avatar in those situations.”

Alex smirked. “You were born in the wrong generation, Prasad.”

“Tell me that in 2018 all the slaying happens in Hyrule?”

Alex arched an eyebrow and Raj looked chagrinned. “Nevermind”

They sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes.

“I have no idea why I bolted.”

“The speech got away from you.” Raj said. “You try and self-edit and that just turns everything into rubbish. Best stick to lines.”

“Think I should go back?”

“Reckon you should give Buffy a little while to process, she might have suspected you were her daughter but it’s another thing all together to have it confirmed.”

Alex looked down at her coke and took another drink. Then she glanced over at Raj’s beer.

“Oh, don’t get cute.” Raj said. “Your father is on this train and he’ll have my head chip or no chip.”





******



Daughter. She had a daughter, she might have more than one. Buffy stared at the space Alex had sat in just a second before. There was an exchange happening around her, but all she could think about was that she had a daughter. She could have more. She had thought once the Chosen thing happened babies and all of that were out of the question. And now, she could have it. She could have a baby and Genesis tainted it. Buffy felt a familiar rage bubble up and she tamped down on it as much as she could. She had dealt with not having that for so long and she did not like having it forced upon her now.

When she was made aware of her surroundings again, It was just her and Wesley sitting in the compartment.

“How did we get here, Wes?” she said wistfully.

Wesley shook his head.

“This is not how I imagined my somber sojourn to England.” He said. “I thought I would mostly be cleaning up Raj sick.” He paused and cringed. “I’m unsure If I’d rather be doing that.”

Buffy smiled faintly. “The good fight looks good on you.” She said. “You know, I had sorta given up on the whole ‘family matters’ thing. Figured the slayer gig was not so much with the maternity leave.”

“Spike told you back at the hotel I take it.”

“How long have you known about this?”

“Spike was actually the one who pointed it out to me.” Wesley answered. He looked pensive. “He’s more astute than I ever gave him credit for.”

Buffy nodded.

“Yeah, he’s been all sense guy. You know? And Survival guy. And understanding guy.” She said. “I used to hate him. I hated him two months and a lifetime ago, Wes. All things aside I should hate him because of what he is, but I don’t anymore, not after that. The people over there. They’re human. Regular run of the mill maybe a little sociopathic humans. I'm supposed to protect humanity from the demons and the forces of evil. Demons didn’t do that to me. Giles once told me that all the bad guys could be pointed out with their funny hats and mustaches.” Her smile when she looked back up at Wes was watery. "Liar."

“You don’t hate Spike?”

Buffy shook her head. There was a faint smile on her face.

“I wouldn’t be here without Spike.”

“That doesn’t guarantee any benevolent feeling.”

Buffy looked down.

“I trust him more than I’ve trusted everyone in my life.” She said. “I’ve never—I’ve always been the one people trust to protect them. Now he’s protecting me.”

“Even with the microchip?”

“He nearly died in Germany.” She said. “He risked everything he had. And just to find a piece of what happened to us.”

“I must admit, he’s quite the puzzle.” He said. “He doesn’t have a soul and yet, he’s somewhat in control of his demon. He was clearly starving after the ordeal you suffered and yet he didn’t take advantage of a human full of slayer blood.”

Buffy arched an eyebrow.

“That’s me. Bag o’ blood Buffy.” She deadpanned. Thinking of her like a bag of blood marked uncomfortably closed to what she was at Genesis. “Just go ahead and string me up and see what happens.” She said bitterly.

Wes grimaced, he had not meant to remind her of her time at that place.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, I don’t expect you to get it.” She said, she glanced outside towards the corridor, instinctively looking for him.

“I had already assumed you were sharing blood, Buffy. Even before I saw it. It’s obvious your relationship has changed.”

Buffy didn’t say anything to refute the statement. She just looked sad. “I had given up on this whole partnership and childbearing thing. That last time I even thought about it, I must have been in high school. Even with Riley I never thought—” she paused. “I don’t even know what it is they did to me. Alex said this never happened in her world.”

Wes sighed and tried to look as sympathetic as he could but this was a little more than he was capable of handling.

“Wesley, would-“ Buffy hesitated and looked away, unable to meet the eyes of a man who had been her watcher if only for a very short time. “Would you think less of me if I wanted to get rid of it?”

“You are considering an abortion?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s even human. I don’t want to fall in love with it and deliver—“ she felt herself choke a little. “I don’t know. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to slay it. I’ve already had to see so many people I love die. What if it is this Rosemary’s baby and I can’t do my duty because all I could think about was how much I love it because all of the damn mommy hormones. It’s just too much, Wes. I can’t take it.”

There was a slam that jolted both the slayer and watcher somewhere form the bowels of the train.

“Buffy, this is a situation you didn’t ask for and by no stretch of the imagination would I judge you for finding a way to cope but your anxieties are theoretical.” He tried to say as gently as he could, he realized that this was a very tenuous situation and he did his very best to channel Cordelia at her most tactful. “Maybe if it would be best to determine first whether it is a child or not and then we can decide er, if it will be necessary to er, slay it.”

Buffy looked at him like he had just grown three heads.

Oh dear, perhaps that was not the best laid plans. Wesley thought but to his everlasting relief Buffy chuckled.

“I think you’ve been spending a little too much time with Cordelia, Wes.”

The former watcher smiled ruefully. “Yes well, she has become an influence.”

They were both silent for a moment.

“This is not how I ever wanted this to happen.” She said softly. “I need to get them. I need to hurt them. They took even this away from me. I’m going to make them pay for it.”

“You’re going to have be patient.” Wesley reminded her. It was a warning not a rebuke. “It helps no one if you are marching on their well protected facilities half-cocked.”

Buffy smiled at him knowingly. “You? As in just us and Wesley not included?”

He sighed. “Of course I will be there, especially if you’re ready but—”

“You are going back to LA.” She finished for him.

Wesley nodded. “I have a little time yet. But I would be the most useful to you there. I have some resources, however modest they may be, I may be able to help with Spike’s chip.”

“You need to not tell anyone about all of this.”

“That really goes without saying, Buffy.” Wesley said. “but first things first, let’s get a handle on the rest of the crew. and, Buffy, you do have options.”

Buffy nodded sagely. “I just need to find out what happened. I have chance now to have this thing I though was impossible. Now it’s all here and I’m worried something will happen to ruin it. I think I want this, Wes.”

The watcher nodded.

“I know, Buffy.”

“I just hope it’s the it I’m thinking about.”



*****



“I think there’s a dinning cart over that way.” Raj had said pointing Spike down the shadier hallway running like a spine through the train.

“Thanks, gadget”

The train wasn’t very long and Spike didn’t come across the bit. At first he had thought he missed since he was distracted by the stunning revelations Alex had delivered.

Alex Pratt. His kid. His daughter with the slayer. Truth be told he was a little ashamed he had not put that second part together himself. Who else could have a vampire child? How else could something like that come into being without some sort of divine intervention and who would intervene for anyone like him if it wasn’t for her?

He wondered idly, if the sprog he could hear in her belly would eventually be this world’s Alex. Or perhaps this world’s second Alex since buried in her babble the girl had basically said her place was here.

Not just the sprog, two daughters.

He had had the inkling since Wesley had told him about Genesis days ago while they had tea at his flat hear Paddington. Hell, he had had that idea since they placed the very first electro-clamps in a strategic place. But he couldn’t bring himself to believe that, he couldn’t bring himself to hope. And he couldn’t hear the extra heartbeat. That was until last night in the stillness of the suite in Vienna. He heard it right before Buffy launched into a tirade, berating him for being passed out. There was a flutter; a small teeny little irregularity that corrected itself almost immediately. Spike strained to hear it and finally after a moment of concentration he could hear it, a little whir that kept as close as possible to Buffy’s heartbeat. It was hiding.

No wonder his demon had been placated with the small amount, his demon could sense family, taste it in the blood.

He hit the front of the train and turned his heel, he was pretty sure he did not see Alex anywhere.

Family.

Spike had given up on the human notion of family long ago. Good Victorian men were meant to marry fecund women and start creating the next generation of Englishmen and that was all he wanted—it was everything to him. He wanted a family he wanted to give his mother grandchildren. That was until that fateful night he met Drusilla. And she talked about so many different things and opened up the world to more than family. And Spike let go of that notion after he tried to hold onto his after he turned.

He walked back to the compartment still careful to check for the Bit and avoid any patches of sunlight.

He had just entered the car that held their compartment when he heard Wesley’s voice assure Buffy that it was her choice whether or not to proceed with her pregnancy.

Spike froze.

She wanted an abortion. There wasn’t anyone else in the vicinity and the car was dead silent save for the Watcher and Buffy’s conversation.



She was railing against the Project for taking the choice to have a family away from her. She didn’t want to think of them every time she looked at the child. Their child; if it even was a child. She couldn’t be certain they weren’t using her as a human incubator for something else.

Part of him, in that moment, wanted to burst into the compartment and take her into his arms and hold her and assure her that they will never get away with it. He wanted to tell her that he could make everything better and that he was going to make sure they wouldn’t be able to get to her.

But another part, a bigger part of him went completely numb. This scar tissue was familiar. It felt like every time Dru ran off with another demon for weeks at a time or when Angelus would call him unworthy and refuse to teach him. Only this was worse, everything else he could be distracted from. He could get lost in the violence of a brawl. He could provoke Angelus until he came right back and threw a punch, he could kills each demon Dru ran off with and made them suffer more then they ever had in their lives. But he had heard his child’s heartbeat and he had seen the young woman that sprog will grow up to be and in that moment he didn’t commiserate with Buffy’s confusions or realize that she had not heard the heartbeat. He was too caught up in the betrayal that nothing else mattered.

This was his one chance to have a family. Another voice reminded him that baby or not he had a family, and he remembered the moment Alex confirmed that she was his child, his heart had swelled then, just like it had when he noticed the little whirr of an infant heartbeat, his infant’s heartbeat, and now he would be able to make up for never being there for the bit.

Only he may not get the chance, he bit back hot tears and forced himself to stop.

He slammed the sliding door that divided the cars shut and stalked across the corridor too quickly for them to follow paying no mind to the minor singes from ignoring the patches of sunlight.

He was so caught up in the mire of his own thoughts that he almost plowed headlong into Raj and Alex.

Alex took one look at his thunderous expression and cocked her head to the side studying him intently. She was wordlessly asking him what had just happened and erasing any doubt he had whose daughter she was.

“You look murderous.” she informed him.

He stared hard at her and then realized that he had his demon in the forefront. Raj was staring at him like he had forgotten Spike was a vampire all together.

Alex seemed to get the picture and she nodded to Raj. The watcher took one look at Spike and slid passed them to join Wes and Buffy. Alex then pulled the vampire into one of the neighboring compartments knowing that the humans would not be able to hear them talking.

“What happened?” she said. She had no idea what Buffy said to make the vampire this angry, but she had no doubt in her mind it was Buffy who was to blame for Spike’s teeth grinding.

He didn’t answer but he shook off his demon. His eyes remained golden for just a smidge longer than usual.

“She said something.” She concluded.

The vampire said nothing but didn’t refute her statement. “I just thought that we had come to an understanding and she’s all making decisions without consulting me.”

Alex raised her eyebrows, so it was something about the baby. Crap. This was about decisions and choices about the baby; better and better. She sighed and waited to Spike to finally look at her.

“Spike, I just dropped a Hiroshima-level news on all your heads. You cannot expect her to put to rights so quickly. She needs to adjust to all the news she got today, and she processes by word vomit.” Alex paused trying to wrap her head around the two Buffy’s she had to keep straight. “or the other her did. Anyway, either way you can’t saunter in there looking like that. I know that look. I get that look too. And it leads to badness. So sit here and let’s just—“ she sighed. “Not have badness.”

Spike seemed to see the wisdom of her words and he collapsed into the seat across from her. He took a battered pack of cigarettes out of one of his pockets as well as his trusty zippo. He was about to light it when he realized she might object. She shrugged.

“It’s not like its going to kill me.”

“Your mum might. If she knew I was doing this.”

“She is not my mum.”

Spike arched his eyebrows at the quick reply. He puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette. She was the first one to look away.

“And I’m not your ‘da.” He finished for her. His tone was bitter.

“You know I’m pretty sure that you aren’t allowed to smoke on a train.” She said turning her attention to the scenery flashing by them.

Spike smirked, but said nothing. He was clearly waiting for her to go on.

“I was talking to Raj about speeches and how often I practiced the speech I was going to present to my parents when I saw them again and I just sort of realized that you aren’t them. And I wanted you to be them so badly.” She said finally. “When I realized who was rescuing me, who exactly I was dealing with. I didn’t know for sure until I saw Buffy because— you know, I don’t have any pictures of you. Well, I have one, but your hair is different and you’re lighting a cigarette so you can’t really see your face. So I wasn’t really sure; and then mu-Buffy was there. And I figured it out. And I was so happy and then I was so sad because you aren’t the person I’ve been talking to my whole life. You aren’t the person I told the first time I dusted a vampire, vanquished a falanjoid demon and graduated Middle school. I have to keep reminding myself that you didn’t hear that and I barely know you." she sighed. "I just feel like I do because I assumed that you were listening to me all those times I talked to you and told you about what was happening in my life. But you weren’t. You were here, you know.” She gestured wildly. “… living. So you don’t know all of those things about me and that’s okay. I just have to remember that and try and try and try to not hold that against you and I’m having a very hard time keeping you two separate.”

Spike had stopped puffing on his cigarette and turned to her. Alex found herself studying his face and comparing each of his features to her own. She had the same hair--a little darker than his, and the same eyes. She wondered if she looked like that when she was thinking or if he would notice the small scar on her eyebrow she had tried to make when she was four because her daddy had one and she wanted to be more like him.

He looked like he wanted to reach for her, she wasn’t sure if he should. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and when she looked back up he was puffing away, watching the European countryside, fastidiously keeping his attention away from her.

“Now your turn what’s got your fangs all fuzzy?”

He sighed heavily, finished off his cigarette, and flicked it out the window. “I just heard Buffy talking about y—her pr—the sprog is all.” He said. “She was wondering if they went further than hybrids. And the possibility of termination.” He raised his eyes to hers. “I know the sprog is not you but I don’t—" He stopped and sighed, unsure of how to put it, worried about offending her and confused as to how Buffy could think that, could speak to Wes about it and not him. "I don’t want to do anything too hasty.” he finished lamely.

Alex let that sink in. She hadn't actually thought that he would indulge her. But it sounded like Spike needed someone to talk to.

“And bumpies because?” She pressed, her tone was gentler than before.

Spike started another cigarette. “I gave up the idea of family—a human family long ago, sweet bit. I knew what I was givin’ up. But before that night—has no one ever told you how I was turned?”

“Just stuff about chips and souls and Passions.”

“Story for another time.” Spike said wistfully. “Anyways, I knew what I was giving up the night Dru turned me. Never really looked back but now, but before that family—it was all I wanted. Now it could be again. Bloody miracle that is and she doesn't realize it or she does and she doesn't bloody well care.”

“So you’re mad at Buffy because she doesn’t seem to get that.” She concluded. “Even though you don’t know what they did to her at that place.”

“I know what they did to her in that place.” Spike said darkly. THey did the same thing him. And they--and just like that Spike felt his insides drop and an ice-cold vice wrapped around his heart. He pivoted instantly, suddenly nothing else in the world was as important as the answer to his question.

“Nibblet, did they do that to you?”

There was something on his face,blind panic that made Alex answer instantly.

"No, nothing like that." She said, wisely deciding not to even joke around or deflect. "Nothing like what I'm guessing you went through. It was all endurance testing, which was no walk in the park but--

“Alexis.” His voice was low and dangerous.

“They took a lot of blood.” She continued. “and they did scans and stuff. And they asked me a lot of questions, some light and sound torture but they didn’t—you know—go there. I think they wanted to know what made me tick, how being the progeny of a vampire makes me different.”

The more she said the slower she said it. She had been watching this vampire who was her father carefully these last few hours and there was just something about him that made it easy to forget he was a vampire. He made cultural references, breathed, and he played the bad-boy role so well that the assumption that it was all an act was all but a given. It was so easy to forget that Spike was a whirlwind; a scourge of Europe and an Aurelian Master Vampire and the slayer of slayers. Just now, with his fists clenched and his eyes flashing yellow, all that human-ness fell away.

Alex felt herself shrink back into her seat. The vampire growled lowly and Alex suddenly felt herself being engulfed in a sudden and violent embrace.

Spike ignored the twinge of pain in his ribs reminding him that it wasn't so long ago that he was beaten to a pulp, slayer blood or no. But he ignored it. He honestly wasn’t sure who he was more enraged at himself or those people. He had known Alex for hours now and with all that had happened he didn’t really get to process that she had been there too. They had taken her and performed experiments on her. She was an unsuspecting Fifteen-year old girl and because of what she was they tested her like a lab rat. She was at their mercy for months. Even as he held her he felt his insides churn. He wouldn’t wish the Genesis Project on his worst enemy, on Angelus on a bad day or one of Buffy’s annoying friends. But this girl endured it. And he knew, logically, that there was no way he could have helped her until he did. He knew that he was just as incapacitated and he knew that she knew that. So, he was the most angry with the powers, because they knew his little girl was being tortured and they didn’t tell him.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.” He said unable to keep the rage and guilt out of his voice. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“You didn’t know.” Alex replied from her place smooshed against his shirt. “You couldn’t have. As far as you knew it wasn’t even possible.”

“Too right.” Spike replied still not letting her go, the pain in his ribs was getting more insistent but he knew this was more important. “but someone up there did and they should have sent me sooner. And I know now. And no one.” He pulled away finally and held her at an arm’s length. “Is going to get to you again. Do you understand me?”

He shook her a little and she nodded, a little bit stunned at what was going on.

Spike pulled her back in for another hug and she stiffened but that was ignored. “Bloody buggerin’ an’ here I was complainin’ about the sprog and worryin’ about all that and I didn’t—at your expense, Alexis, that won’t happen again either.”



She tried to mutter something reassuring but she realized she had a lump in her throat and she couldn’t say anything. She was pressed up against her long dead father, something she had irrationally wished for since as far back as she could remember. So she said nothing and just let herself enjoy it.

Finally he pulled away.

“Let’s see about the others, yeah?”

She nodded, still unable to speak. Wordlessly, Spike handed her a handkerchief from somewhere in his duster. She stared at it dumbly for a second before taking it to wipe her damp cheeks.





*****



“Hey did you realize no one’s asked us for our tickets?” Buffy said to no one in particular.

“Trains can sometimes be run on honor system.” Raj said, he was typing on his lap top. “But if a conductor comes around and you don’t have a ticket the fine can be up to five hundred euros.”

“Oh, so we’re living on the wild side.”

Of course at that moment a rail employee poked his head into their compartment and rattled off something in German. Raj glanced up from hiscomputer screen and then turned accusingly at Buffy. She collapsed back into her seat.

“That was me. I jinxed us. Why do I even talk?” She sighed.

“We all ask ourselves that question.” Raj informed her before going back to whatever he was doing on his computer.

“I don’t see you making yourself useful.”

“You want me to overwhelm him with my physical prowess?”

“You couldn’t hack into the system and make us tickets?”

“Yes, right after I make up some sort distraction let me just type up Kelly leBrock.”

“Weird science, really?”

"Excuse me," The rail employee cut in. "My English is not so good, but you are saying you have no ticket?"

“Could we please take this seriously?” Wesley demanded. He turned away from the suddenly contrite pair and began to haggle as best he could with the warden in German as the man seemed to have exhausted his English. The more Wes talked, the rail employee only got more insistent.

Suddenly someone tapped him on the shoulder and Spike materialized behind him. The vampire growled at him in game face and sent the poor man running and stumbling away. Spike then sauntered into the cabin, still wearing his vampiric features. He cocked his head in a challenge at Wesley.

“About time you showed up.” The former watcher said wryly. “I was stalling him as best I could.”

Raj watched him go. “You don’t think he’ll call for re-enforcements?”

“You would be surprised at the sheer power of denial.” Wesley said tiredly, he removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose and then replaced them. “About now he’s convincing himself he’s not seen anything untoward. He’ll forget everything soon enough and then he’ll avoid checking this car and he won’t know why, just an inkling. The human capacity for self-conviction is truly astounding.”

The vampire shrugged and shifted back to his youthful features. “Bloody useful is what it is.”

There were a few half-hearted agreement noises and then the car lapsed into silence the last few days, the last few weeks really, had been an adrenaline fueled blur of panic, apprehension and revelation and now they were all sitting in the aftermath. The steady clicking of the train over the tracks would have been soothing but each of them had something to think about and all of their reserve energy had been spent. Before long the countryside gave way to the city.

“Is it just me or is it really fucking cold?” Alex spoke up as they waited for a taxi.

She was right. The pacing of the last few days had little time to really notice the weather, but the adrenaline was dying down now and everything was starting to catch up. Alex was still wearing the clothes she was taken in 2018, a little smelly and gross now, but nothing she’d part with. Ohio got cold in the winter but it had been balmy and she was without her winter coat. Everyone else was in their infiltration blacks, functional clothing, almost uniform. Spike quickly shrugged off his duster and draped it around Alex’s shoulders. Alex was about to protest, but their turn had come and a taxi pulled up.

After the onslaught that was the last few days the taxi ride to an anonymous corner of the city seemed anticlimactic. The entire company waited for the other shoe to drop. The cabbie drove off without comment and Spike lead them on a moderately long walk to a warehouse. The door was unlocked, dark had fallen and despite the light from the street the inside of the place was pitch dark.

“Bit, be a good minion and help me find the lights!”

Alex, whose night vision was almost as good as Spike’s, located the circuit breaker immediately.

“I’m not your minion.” She said sounding very much like a fifteen year old for once. Even with the lights the place was gloomy and abandoned, but Spike lead them across the empty floor and to a spiral staircase at the far end. At the top was a large loft apartment with ultra modern Scandinavian style furniture, all low tables and blocky couches. The place looked like a cross between the bronze and some really chic show-apartment.

“Heat too much to hope for?” Buffy piped up rubbing her arms in her functional canvas jacket.

Spike didn’t answer her but he crossed to a circuit box and messed with it for a while. Somewhere in the bowels of the building the grinding sound of a heater started up.

Wesley was exploring, there was certainly enough space for everyone. There were several alcoves with couches and low tables and large beanbag chairs. A small kitchen that looked like it had never been used. On the far side of the wall were large bright orange industrial panels that the former watcher guessed lead to bedrooms or, hopefully, a bathroom. “All this extra room was for the entourage I take it.”

Spike considered this uncomprehendingly for a while.

“You thought his was my place with Dru?” He asked incredulously..

Across the room, Buffy stiffened but no one but Alex seemed to notice.

"Sorry, Oxford, those digs were sacked years ago when that bloody mob ran through it. This spot actually belongs to a Balat demon. Her lair if you will. But we can camp out here for a few days and rest up.” He stretched and winced—his muscles still hurt but his breathing had gotten better the cracks in his ribs must have healed up, the binding doing its job properly and holding it in place so it could knit back together. It was hard to believe how much healing could happen in one day—slayer blood was a powerful thing. “Thora is usually in some luau happy island about now. ‘detoxin’ and all that rot. Girl’s made a fortune as a walking billboard for plastic surgeons.”

“That seemed to pique Wesley’s interest.

“Were they able to—”

Wordlessly Spike handed him a framed photo.

“Well,” Wesley said mildly setting it down. “They certainly did a remarkable job.”

Curiously, Buffy craned her neck to take a look at the photo. Raj looked over her shoulder.

“Balat demons feed on feelings.” He informed her. “They absorb them through their skin. So it would be perfectly normal for her to be nude all the time.”

“How do you know this girl, Spike?” the slayer demanded.

“What is it to you, slayer?” Spike countered quickly. “I thought I was survival guy. I got us the digs, I can’t always guarantee they ‘ll pass your delicate slayer sensibilities.”

She wasn’t expecting the vehemence in the reply and recoiled long enough for allow Spike to stalk away. She was about to stomp right after him and demand to know what his problem was, he was the one taking them to the house of a demon. But she felt a hand on her shoulder, it was Alex. The girl shook her head, clearly suggesting Buffy leave Spike alone. Then the damphyr turned and addressed the rest of the company.

“I don’t know about you but I’ve been in these clothes for weeks.” She said a little bit louder tan necessary. “Raj, that black card of yours compromised?”

He grimaced. “Yeah, I believe so. But I have something else that should work, I was saving it for an emergency but survival guys seems to have us covered,”

“Why don’t we go see if the shops are still open? I need a coat.”

Buffy was still glancing over to where Spike was rummaging around in secret cabinets, but she perked when Alex mentioned shopping. It was clear the slayer could go for some retail therapy, but she hesitated, looking back over her shoulder.

“He’s still healing.” Alex told her. “and he took quite a beating, we should let him rest.”

Wesley nodded.

“That sounds like a very good idea actually.” He said. “The leaving Spike and the er, shopping. We need to look normal and right now our uniform appearance does work against us. You go, I’ll stay here and do some research on our next step.”

Before Buffy could make a crack about a Wesley being computer literate, he pulled a dusty tome from one of Raj’s black computer bags. Her eyes bugged out.

“How did you—we lugged that—sprinting across—and—”

Raj shook his head.

“Don’t ask.” He said leading Buffy away. “that’s what he wants you to do.”

The three of them hurried out the way they came. Wesley watched them pensively.

“Do you think they have any where they’re going?”

Spike snorted derisively.

“You aren't worried about them?”

“The minion’s got a good head on her shoulders, Wonderboy’s got a phone.” He said with a shrug, but his tone darkened when he mentioned Buffy. “and the slayer can take care of herself.”

This was a complete reversal of everything Spike had done in the last few weeks. He had been fiercely protective of Buffy since they had joined forces. Wesley didn’t ask what caused the change. He was familiar with vampire hearing and he was beginning to suspect Spike had heard a conversation Buffy would have rather kept from him.

“There’s no food around, but Thora like to use this place to throw parties so the whiskey’s good.” He held out a bottle for Wesley. “Or wasn’t your claim of research a load of crock for the kiddies?”

Wesley grinned and accepted the challenge.


End Notes:
Tell me what you think! cheery vibes, guys!
Chapter 13 - Prague by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi I know it's been a long time. I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry but this is a nice long one for you! and I'll have another chapter up by this weekend I'm just trying to bring you Spuffy and they are being stubborn but I did put them through a lot so I'm not going to force it.

I love you all and sorry it's been so long. I'll be better I promise!
Chapter Thirteen – Prague

Raj had apparently been researching Prague since the train. Buffy had no idea how he was able to link up to the internet but he had some sort of implement. He had explained it and Alex seemed to get it and accept it and that was really good enough for her. He could have been speaking fyarl for all she knew. Apparently they were not in a touristy part of Prague, but they were only a few blocks away from a huge black wedge that got Buffy’s Cali-girl radar atwitter.

She had been right, Raj pointed it out saying it was basically a Czech shopping mall.

Buffy’s idea of shopping had changed in the last few weeks, it had basically been whittled down to: only buy what she needed to keep going and get everything from little shops and thrift stores that accept cash, preferably in small amounts. Once or twice she and Spike had basically traded out from a good will bin, but Spike lived in drug-store brand black t-shirts and the grubby black jeans—Buffy was itching for something not so much with the gloomy and denim. The clothes they had been keeping to had been functional and marginally comfortable but outdated and generally boring. Buffy was ready for some retail therapy and the second she walked through the doors and removed her coat, she felt some sort of influx of energy.

Everything about Novy Smichov was foreign, Buffy recognized none of the shops and food stalls, but other than that, the glossy tiles on the floor and the florescent lights had her almost hypnotized from the moment she stepped through the whoosh of air that kept the cold out. There was some sort of mall smell that all these places seem to have piped into them. Buffy wondered idly if it was all some sort of conspiracy. That vein of thought quickly took her into badness so she decided to ignore it. She needed to starting thinking about not evil demon-y things right the hell now. And thankfully there were brand new European trends that could distract her.

“You said you had something spendy in the mix?” she said her eyes still wide with all the stores and crazy lights.

Raj jerked his head towards the signs for the ATMs.

Alex and Buffy followed him to the machine and he fed the first machine a blank card and input a few numbers. And withdrew a bunch of Czech crowns . Then he proceeded to the next bank machine and did the same thing.

“This only works once per cashpoint and I would avoid using it at the same bank.” He glanced back and tried to look as stern as he could. “Keep it at the limit of the machine. I don’t want to override what I don’t have to override.” He handed Buffy and Alex a ridiculous stack of what looked like monopoly money. “Where should we go first?”

Buffy smiled, and lead them over to the United Colours of Benetton. “How about this? I’m so sick of black.”

Raj grinned and followed her. He was dressed identically in the blacks and dull greens they had used to break into the facility. Alex was still dressed he clothes she had arrived in. Buffy looked at her as if for the first time.

“Jeez, Lex,” she said. “are those jeans tight enough?”

Alex looked down at herself, everything she was wearing was a little grimy—but she was quite attached to it all. She was glad this is what they had caught her in and not one of her more trendy outfits, crocheted dresses didn't mix well with evil exploratory experiments--she had gotten lucky. She was wearing her favorite grey cashmere sweater that had held up well, considering; a pair of skinny jeans that Grandpa Giles had balked at buying for her and her battered old combat boots. She had also taken Spike’s leather duster with her being the only on without a winter coat. Despite the wool and the duster she was still cold anytime she was outside. The thick denim held up well but the sweater was thin and she had been indoors when they had inter dimensionally sucked her out of her time. So at the very least she would need a coat, and it would be nice to be out of the old clothing even if it was traded in for chunky cable knits and clogs. The teenager surveyed the shop and tried to find things that appealed to her aesthetic. She supposed she could do flares. And some of the stripe-y sweaters Buffy was flinging into her arms. The frilly drape-y shirts however she could do without as well as the cargo maxi-skirts.

Shopping seemed to re-energize the slayer. She was a whirlwind. The blew through Benetton paying for several items, pom pom hats and belts and the flared jeans and at least two of the striped sweaters and then they were in Bally getting fancy boots and a couple of stores Alex didn’t recognize, she hoped to god there would be an H&M because that would at least be familiar. The foreign stores didn’t seem to hinder Buffy; being unfamiliar with just how much she was spending was probably no help either. She bought enough to keep them for the winter and a suitcase to keep them in.

There were more patterns and “basics” and knitted winter fashion. There was a burberry coat and chunky scarves, long leather maxi skirts and mock turtle necks and Alex tried not to cringe at the cuffed pants and the “camo”.

Just as Alex and Raj were about to collapse, Buffy spotted a salon. She and Alex were weighed down with bags when she gestured to Hair Cut and Color.

“Roots?”

Alex hesitated.

“Don’t tell me you’re freaked out about having your hair cut? I’ve seen you face down commandos!”

“I’m really just more worried about getting the Rachel.” She said.

“The Rachel is in right now, Mcfly.” Raj suggested.

“That’s heavy, Doc, say how about we calculate the jiggawatts my fist can produce while its hitting your face.” Alex replied without missing a beat.

“Wow, that was definitely a proportional response.” Buffy spoke up with a wry grin.

“I’m just—getting a haircut usually gives me an anxiety attack. I take maybe an inch off each time and it took me years to find someone I trust and—Usually one of the potentials does it because having sharp implements near my face—and the last time I tried someone new she loped off half a foot.”

“Seriously? Commandos.” Raj pointed out.

Alex shot him a miserable look.

Buffy laughed. “No, I get I haven’t changed my hair in years, It’s basically always been long and blonde—So I get the hair based anxiety. But the red might be a little much. Not very blendy.”

“Fine, fine.” Alex said with a sigh. “But I’m not cutting it.” She marched into the salon ahead of them.

Raj was about to follow her when Buffy held him aside for a second.

“Hey, Raj, do you think you could hang out with Lex for a second?”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I have something I have to do.”

They settled Alex in the chair and between the teenager’s meager German and Raj’s assorted languages they were able to tell the stylist—who was Romanian—what she was looking for. Raj agreed to look after the shopping and Buffy headed off down the brightly lit hall towards a store she had seen earlier and put aside until now.


*****


She stared at the test.

She couldn’t believe that she had not thought of it before; and now here she was sitting in a cubicle in a Czech shopping mall. She stuffed the test back into the wrapper and steeled herself to go outside.

She crossed the hall and rejoined Alex and Raj, she did her very best to keep her face neutral. Neither of her companions noticed that anything was amiss.

Alex had decided to go back to her natural brunette which was a wee bit darker that Spike’s natural color. The Romanian woman was yammering away mentioning some names they should have maybe known and gesturing to show she meant bangs but Alex shook her head so vigorously the woman laughed and dropped the subject.

Buffy studied the girl in the mirror, Alex had gotten almost everything from Spike. She had the long angular face and bright blue eyes. The lips and the bumpy nose, however, were hers.

God, this was so weird.

Alex was hers; her daughter with Spike. From another place where she and Spike had made her and she had not been some ghastly experiment.

Maybe the Buffy back in Sunnydale would have been a little bit disgusted, she would have thought that if she was going to have a daughter by a vampire she better be tall with chocolate brown eyes and Angel’s wide mouth. But this Buffy, this Buffy had seen Spike, starving and half-dead, sleep next to her and protect her instead of leave her in the cold, drain her dry or use her as his slayer sponsored cure-all. This Buffy had slept next to him when he was for all intents and purposes, un-chipped. This Buffy had seen what Spike could do and she knew with utmost certainty if he could take care of her, his mortal enemy because he had promised to do so, his daughter had nothing to worry about.

Okay, maybe not nothing there was definitely something to worry about but nothing they couldn’t handle.

She realized Alex was looking at her expectantly. She had been asked a question while her though had been running around a million miles away.

“Oh,” Buffy replied a little absently. “went off to grab some essentials from the drugstore. Cream rinse, Tooth brushes, No biggie.”

She had, in fact, gotten cream rinse as a cover. Not that she was going to use it. The Demon’s place they were staying in was great to crash but clearly Balats had little need to shower—or at least didn’t maintain them. Still, improvised plumbing was better than what they had at that B&B back in Newcastle.

Both Alex and Raj’s looks told her she wasn’t being very convincing. The thunderstruck look on her face was probably pretty telling. She worried for a moment about Alex asking about things she was so not ready to talk about and then see right through all of Buffy’s stammering like her father always did. She turned to Raj and gave him a pleading look.

“Hey you know,” Raj said. “There’s a McDonald’s somewhere here, feel like grabbing some familiar nosh?”

Alex looked so delighted that the two adults laughed and ushered her out and back into the mall.


*****


There was a strange keening sound coming from the apartment when they arrived at the warehouse. Despite the bags, Buffy and Alex broke into a run. The charged into the living quarters to see Spike and Wesley both drunk out of their minds, standing on the couch and singing in a language that could not have been English.

“—nemini parceteur,”

“parcetes!”

“No, Spike the pluperfect tense.”

“Right”

“—vivant membra qualibet!” they sang. It was a little difficult to pin point which one was on-key, if any. It was yet unclear whether they were harmonizing or singing together or if they were singing the same song. “Vivant membra quaelibet, semper sint in flor. Vivant omnes vigines! Faciles—”

Wesley started to giggle at this point.

“Faciles et formosae!” Wesley started to all out laugh.

“Bugger it, Oxford!” Spike roared. “You ruined the bloody harmony!!”

“Harmony was happening?” Buffy asked. She had dropped all her shopping and had her arms crossed over her chest.
The boys turned so quickly Wesley slipped off the couch and landed in a groaning tangled heap on the floor. Spike’s eyes narrowed and he took another long swig out of the bottle.

“Buffy! You are back rather soon. Is it soon? has it been soon?” Wesley asked from his position on the floor. “What brings you here?”

“Stores closed.” Buffy said matter-of-factly, her attention, however was on the vampire that was studiously avoiding her eyes.
At that moment, Raj burst through the door, he was holding his shopping as if he would chuck it at whatever threat Buffy and Alex were facing.

“Get back you fuckers, I’ll have you know I am deadly with throwing weapons!”

When he saw the state of the room he lowered his throwing arm. Wesley burbled something vaguely welcoming from the floor. Raj glanced at the girls for explanation.

“I’m curious,” Buffy said in lieu of answering his obvious unspoken question. “What was your thought process if evil didn’t, say, run away screaming at your formidable… shopping?”

“Maybe my high pitched screaming may irritate them?” Raj replied matter-of-factly. “What happened to Wyndy?”

“Don’t call me Wyndy!”

Buffy approached the couch to take a look at the bottle Spike was holding. Spike edged away from her, still not looking away from his spot on the wall. Buffy stopped and studied him. Any other day Spike would be all over the “wyndy”comment.

“They must have found the liquor cabinet.” Alex informed him. She had been holding the takeout they were bringing to Wesley and she set it down in front of him, Wes, who had not yet gotten up, tore into the bag.

“I’m not sure if LA has ruined him but he’s not complaining about the state of the chips” Raj said rather incredulously. “so hand me some of that sauce because it must be brilliant.”

Buffy slid onto the couch and playfully shoved Spike. “C’mon, not-so-bleached-wonder, hand me the drinkies.”

She wasn’t expecting the vehemence of the vampire’s shoving of the bottle into her hands before storming off into the room. There was a resounding clang as he threw the huge metal barn door shut. Buffy looked from Raj to Wesley. Wes wasn’t being particularly forthcoming or helpful; he was shoving mouthfuls of McDonald’s French fries into his mouth. Buffy’s eyes finally zeroed in on Alex who was studiously unloading sweater after chunky-knit sweater and a blazer from her shopping bags. The slayer kept her eyes on the girl until finally she gave up and turned to the younger version of her own mother.

“He may have heard something—maybe you didn’t want him to.” She said wadding up a couple of plaid flannel shirts.

Fuck. She realized instantly what the vampire heard. She mentally cursed every power that is was or could ever have been for stupid vampire hearing. Then she marched over to the barn door and pushed it open and before anyone could get any ideas she shut it behind her.


*****


Spike’s head was swimming. He and Wesley had been downing the whiskey pretty quickly. Everything around him was fuzzy around the edges except for the memory of Buffy saying she wanted to abort her baby. His baby. Wesley had pointed out that it might not be a baby at all and Spike had lunged at him so ferociously the chip fired and that had sent him back into the couch; which of course sent Wesley into hysterics. Most of the night was still a blur until he was standing on the couch singing a drinking song from his Oxford days, and then she was home and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

And now he was sitting in here. Sitting and trying very hard not to think about children and siblings and family. He kept thinking of Alex. Alex was his; is his. And she wanted to stay here, in this dimension. He was wrestling with the guilt of leaving her, even though he wasn’t completely sure of the details of his departure, but he was pissed as all hell he had to miss her grow up and he had been extremely excited to maybe see that in Alex 2.0; this dimension’s version. And Buffy wanted to take that away from him. And she was probably not thinking about that, she was probably thinking of something else, he vaguely remembered reasons but he couldn’t think about those right now. Right now, he could only be angry and let that work its way out of his system.

He heard the door open and then clang shut.

Bugger. That bint never could just let things be.

“We need to talk, not-so-bleach boy.”

He felt something hit him on the head. She had chucked something at him. It was small and plastic and cylindrical.

“What is this?”

“Look at it.” Buffy snapped.

It was a little plastic pregnancy test. Somewhere in Spike’s mind alarm bells went off, but all that registered in that moment was how humans usually figured out whether or not they were pregnant.

“Bloody hell, slayer, did you piss on this? Did you chuck some of your pee at me?” he demanded. “What the devil was that for?”

“Telling me I was pregnant!” Buffy shouted at him.

Spike looked at her in disbelief.

“Slayer, what are you bloody on about?” he demanded exasperatedly as he reached down and picked up the little plastic cylinder. There was a little window in it with a faint pink line across it. It was clearly upsetting the slayer. She glared at him expectantly. “I haven’t the foggiest what I’m lookin’ at.”

“Negative! It was negative, Spike!” Buffy exploded. “You and your stupid theories that you were so fucking sure about were of course was all I could think about today because duh! So, I am this close to making you into vamp flavored soup mix chip or no chip!”

Spike was trying to make sense of everything; he was fighting against a half a bottle of the Balat demon’s finest whiskey. There was a dull, familiar throb starting behind his left eye. The chip comment stung.

Buffy seemed to have just been picking up steam.

“What the hell gives you the right to tell me I’m pregnant by-by- by them when you weren’t even sure? Spike it’s all I’ve been able to think about, all day, that they put something into me that I never wanted! “ she was clearly livid. “You have absolutely no idea what that feels like! How violated I felt?”

Spike removed the hand from his head and arched an eyebrow.

That took the wind out of her sails for a moment.

“Okay so maybe a teensy fraction of an idea. But that stupid chip is not a baby! You said there is a baby! A baby like a tiny person! And that is the best case scenario!” she was quickly picking up speed again. She realized what she had said. “Was. Was the best case scenario since I’m not pregnant.”

“Yes you are!”

“Thank you, Spike, I’m really glad you’re here to provide all the expertise you’ve gotten from being an infertile vampire for a hundred years and repressed Victorian male before that! You know how you are all renowned for understanding the inner workings of human lady parts.”

Spike groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to physically remind himself that he didn’t want to rip her head off and drink from her brainstem. She was impossible, ridiculous and clearly not finished.

“God! I can’t believe I listened to you and crusty Wesley Wyndham-Pryce of all people! Just because you interpreted the great puzzle that was ‘Genesis’ because it’s latin for making things.”

“Genesis is greek.”

She hit him hard on the nose.

Spike roared angrily his hands flying to his face which was in full vamp mode.

“Argh! You bitch!”

“Fuck you, Spike!” Buffy exploded. She jabbed him again. “This isn’t happening to you! You didn’t think you had to give birth to something that you would then have to slay! You didn’t think a scientists came at you with a demonic turkey baster! And I was being bozo-Buffy just going along with it! Slayer to the rescue! And where the hell do you get off telling me these things? Did you just want to fuck with me? Did you want to fulfill some sick human wish or something trivial like that? You just wanted a family? I thought you were on my side! I thought—”

“No you didn’t think. You never think about anything except how this pertains to you!” Spike finally growled back. His fists were clenched at his side in an effort not to retaliate. He had gone back to his human face but his eyes were yellow. “What possible reason would I have to lie to you, slayer? What would the point be?”

“I don’t know!” Buffy snapped. “I don’t presume to understand the motivations of soul-less bloodsuckers!”

She regretted it immediately. Not only because she didn’t really mean it, it had been an automatic retort but it she and Wesley had discussed it and Spike heard. He heard the bit about having no soul being an issue. And Spike’s drunkenness meant his face was completely unguarded and he looked so wounded at her comment that she wanted nothing more than to reach out and snatch it back, but Spike didn’t let her.

“Bloody hell, Summers! Again that bloody fucking soul! That’s what you’re worried about isn’t it that I don’t have a soul and I can’t make junior have one? Well let me tell you something, missy, those people who captured you, tortured you and all that? They’re human. It the mother fucking vampire who took you in. kept you safe and made sure you were sleeping properly! You think it’s easy draggin’ you along?”

“Spike, I don’t—”

“I am so bleedin’ buggerin’ motherfucking sick of you assuming that all vampires and demons are fucking mayhem machines! Everything I’ve done in that last month has been to protect you. For your good; not mine. I wanted to do that! And I think you know why!”

The only sound in the room was Spike’s chest heaving. They glared at each other for a long moment neither willing to back down.

“I know there’s a bun in the oven because I can hear it, slayer.” Spike continued after a spell. “I can hear its little heart goin’ and I know it’s human or whatever version of human the minion claims.” His hand twitched. He wanted a cigarette more than anything in the world. “and I’m over the moon about it. Never thought I’d get this chance. And here you are swimming in denial just as fast as you can and talkin’ to Oxford about getting rid of it.” He held up his hand when she looking like she was about to launch into another tirade. “Imagine my surprise. I thought you would trust me about this. Thought you would—care enough to talk to me about it. In this together, yeah?”

Buffy stared at him suddenly feeling incredibly stupid. The anger had drained out of her and she wanted desperately to be angry again. Or take back the last twenty minutes and do it over again so she could articulate her point better, so she could make him understand how wrong he was. Spike was in his own world.

The silence was deafening.

“Spike,”

“Get out.”

He didn’t shout. She sort of wished he had. Spike was loud. He was a screamer and she knew how to deal with Spike when he was yelling. This quiet, hurt Spike she didn’t know how to handle.

“No! Listen, we need to—”

“Just go, Buffy.”

She stiffened. Whenever he used her name it was like some sort of hot poker right into her spine. She turned and walked out of the room.


*****


There was a mad scramble as Buffy pushed aside the giant wall panel. Despite the care she took to close it, it closed with a loud clang.

“You guys suck at spying.”

Wesley looked up from the main L shaped couch and the Czech fashion magazine he had been reading upside down.

“Oh, Buffy, you’re here.” He said stupidly.

Both Raj and Alex glared at him from their fake card game a few feet away and around a low table that normally held a hookah.

“Seriously?” Buffy said flatly. “How have we managed to thwart the forces of evil?”

She threw herself into the low couch and eyed the cards Alex was holding, they were naked tarot cards.
The damphyr dropped them guiltily.

Raj followed suit but instead of shrinking back he rolled his eyes. “Oh, come off it, Buffy you’d be doing it if it was anyone else was in there an there was enough shouting..”

Both Wesley and Alex looked at him like he was insane and then braced themselves for Buffy’s wrath. Alex was preemptively cringing.

Buffy just slumped. “You might be right.”

“The test, that’s why you went off?” Raj asked in a much gentler tone.

“Ha! Lot of good it did. It said I’m no baby on board Buffy and that doesn’t seem to be the case since Spike hears the pitter patter of little hearts.”

They all automatically turned to Wesley for answers. He was still holding his copy of JenProzny. He thought it over for a few moments.

“Actually, Buffy, I'm more inclined to believe Spike over this test. There are such a thing as false negatives. A heartbeat is a more difficult thing to manufacture.” Wesley straightened up looking thoughtful.

"Spike's been wrong before."

"Er-yes, but its more than that, see, tests of this nature measure chemicals and hormones that have to do with normal human pregnancy which is not the case here. Science tends to rely on precedent and I think we can safely say that nothing like this has happened before.”

“Except for--you know--me.” Alex piped up almost lazily.

“Right. Except you.” Wes conceded. “But in this dimension it’s the first time which means that there is no way to accurately test for it. Spike’s hearing may well be the most accurate indicator we have.”

Buffy looked cautiously hopeful. And then crestfallen again.

"So it's not a normal pregnancy. I'm going to be having a bouncy baby hell-fire breathing demon."

"Buffy," Wesley said reproachfully. "You must stop thinking the worst of this. precedent remember? You have a damphyr right in front of you and Spike has heard a heartbeat. Both good indications that what your carrying is human." he decided not to hedge around the how human Alex was. That was a battle best fought later.

“So on the one hand, family way. But on the other there’s a chance that the test was negative not because there’s an apocalyptic demon that’s going to Alien its was out of me?”

Wes looked puzzled but Raj and Alex nodded so he nodded as well.

“Although,” Raj said thoughtfully. “Now that you bring that up I’d rather like to see that.”

Buffy threw a pillow at him.

Wesley, however looked troubled.

Alex noticed this and prodded him gently.

“Sorry, it just, it occurs to me that having an irregular pregnancy would make the gestation difficult and we can’t really risk a demon doctor or healing shaman. Vampire pregnancys are unprecedented so the word of one would be a fairly easy trail to follow. That’s if they can help at all.” He frowned in the direction of the bedroom. Everyone knew that it was because it was the sort of question he would usually ask Spike.

Buffy folded her arms in front of her chest.

“Yeah? Well, if you want to talk to mopey in there be my guest. But he was all quiet-angry so maybe give him a little time to let it simmer down from a murderous rage to a nice, benevolent brood.” She said making it clear she was not leaving the couch.

Wesley harkened back to his half remembered conversation with the vampire over drinks. While Spike vehemently denied any similarities with his grand-sire, the sulking was familiar territory. He ignored the looks from everyone and ventured into the seldom used kitchenette in search of water. By now the buzz had subsided and the grease from his dinner may have helped but he needed to be hydrated because he could feel the mother of all hangovers coming on. The Balat demon had no normal glasses just funky plastic martini grasses and novelty shot glasses and what appeared to be a large glass boot.

“Perhaps this can wait until morning?” he said wearily. “we did thwart the forces of evil this morning. I could use some recharging.”

There was nothing but mixers and off brand soda in the fridge so Wesley poured himself a plastic martini glass of tonic water and tried not to think about how much he wanted a cup of tea.

Everyone set about bedding down for the night. The apartment was made for parties so other than the large L shaped couch there were several other love seats and other potential bedding strewn about. Alex made a nest of harem pillows next to the table she and Raj had used to pretend to be playing cards with the Tarot deck. Raj pushed a fea bean bags agast a loveseat to give him ample space to spread his lanky frame. Wesley began work on the couch.

Buffy stood awkwardly in the sea of activity torn between going back into the room with Spike, pride be damned or preparing her own place to sleep tonight. She glanced longingly at the orange panel.

She felt a soft tap on her shoulder. Alex was holding out a knitted throw. she nodded at the couch. She had only really been with them for a day, Buffy realized. It felt like so much longer than just a day, but Alex had really no idea why they were doing this or her background with Spike. Or maybe she did because she was future-girl. thinking about it was making her head hurt. But Alex didn’t know about the nightmares, that sleeping next to a warrior she trusted as much as Spike kept them away. Alex didn’t know that she had not spent the night away from him since really, last night and even then she had succumbed to sheer exhaustion more than slept. Wes was studying her all kindly which was making her want to scream and Raj was already asleep on the other side of the room.

“I’m sure if you--”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed.

“Shut up, Wesley.” she said. She shoved the pillows over on the far side of the L and threw herself down. For a second she wondered if she would even get to sleep but when she was gone before she could even finish the thought.


The forest was dark but Buffy didn’t need light to know where she was. She would know this place anywhere. She was running again, she didn’t remember starting but then she barely remembered starting last time. Spike was running next to her.

She would never forget this night as long as she lived. Adrenaline had run thick in her blood and had shielded her from all but the worst pain of running barefoot in the woods. But this time, this time she could feel every single rip and every single tear in her feet. She couldn’t make herself stop even if she wanted to. She felt branches tear her hair and whip into her eyes and scratch her through the thin material of her clothes. She didn’t even remember what she had been wearing. There was also the cold. It was a wet northern cold that got into your bones and at the time she didn’t feel it but she felt it now.

There was a snarling from behind her.

It wasn’t guards behind them this time, it was wolves. Guards they could outrun but wolves were catching up to them snapping at their heels. She and Spike were running through bushes and up hills half mad with fear She could see a clearing up ahead she could see the cave they had hid in and felt teeth clam around her legs and pull her down.

She was bleeding and she had no idea what had happened to Spike. She no longer remembered Spike all she could of think of now was pain. IT was an intense pain unlike anything she had felt in all her years as a slayer, Indescribable and right at the core of her being.

she wasn’t lying on the uneven floor of the forest, she was already back in the room she was on the metal gurney spread-eagle and screaming while something that felt like dynamite went off under her abdomen. She was screaming so hard she was hoarse. Above her she saw the blue hands, they were attached to a face a face with very green eyes. the blue hands reached into her and push themselves out of her stomach. She was screaming hoarsely now, sobbing and beggin to make it stop. The hands were holding a tiny screaming child, red like fire with little blue hands. It stopped squirming suddenly and looked at Buffy with empty black eyes.

It reached up and slowly began to rip the doctor who had delivered it with his little blue hands until all that was left was pieces. As it did so, the blood drained from it and it looked just like a perfectly normal baby. Its eyes were the same green as the doctor's.

Buffy felt herself go rigid. She couldn’t even scream. She couldn’t move.

It lunged at her.



Buffy jerked awake. It was still dark out, but the sky was paler somehow as if it was going to be dawn soon. The room was silent and still. She could make out the shapes of her companions. So she hadn’t woken them but maybe this time she wasn’t screaming in her sleep, last time she could scream this time she was so horrified, so scared that she couldn’t move.
She cursed herself for being so weak. They had made her this way, scared and paranoid. And instead of bringing the fight to them she was running away. She knew all the arguments for it, she knew Spike wasn’t at a hundred percent and they still didn’t understand what Alex was and the Project might be a bigger organization than they thought but she still couldn’t help but feel like she was running away.

She wondered if the clang of the door would get everyone up. She could just go back and be with Spike and her nightmare would go away. She would sink into the not quite restful but not terrifying dream-less sleep. And maybe she would do the same for him. She needed it more than he did and really she was being considerate of him.

Wow. That was weak Buffy talking. That was giving-up Buffy. She was the slayer dammit she was not that weak little thing that they had starved and experimented on. She was well-rested, well trained and bloody well pissed off and she was going to bring the fight to them and burn them to the ground and salt the ashes. Weak-o Buffy would not be able to deal with what was coming in the next few months. A little bit of wiggins was not going to make her fall asleep. She would use these dreams to remember the lay out of the place or the details of it and use them to rain all that hell fire she was thinking off.

She forced herself to think of precedent, Alex was a normal girl. she could be in the sunlight and other than truly abysmal eating habits she didn't devour humans to take on their characteristics. She glanced over at Alex, the girl had one hand flung over her head and was drooling. That picture helped.

Resolve face firmly in place she punched her pillow to fluff it and yanked her covers up around her.

The next thing she knew it was daylight. There had been no more nightmares.
End Notes:
There! Hope you liked it the next one will be up this weekend I promise!!
Chapter 14 - The Closer You are to Danger the Further You are from Harm by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi All, I deserve all the bad looks but I wasn't totally happy with this chapter this weekend, so I took a few extra days. It's a good long one, a little less action-y than I've been giving you but we're coming to a lull as Spike and Buffy gather their resources to strike back.

Some notes on timeline: I'm not sure if I've made this clear before but Angel sort of keep their timeline intact, when The Project took Buffy they faked her death and Willow went to tell them that she was dead and Angel went to go brood in Sri Lanka. Wes also left to deal with Ravi. So just rework the timeline a little bit and season one proceeds as normal with a few seasonal changes. Except that LA doesn't have any season so that works out well!
Chapter Fourteen – The Closer you are to Danger the Further You are from Harm

Buffy stretched. Wesley had already gone and the other sleep nests had been gathered up. She threw off the covers scanning the room and nearly fell off the couch.

“Sleep well?” Spike asked.

He was perched at the junction of the L couch.

“Gaahhhh!”

“Glad to see those slayer reflexes are intact.” He said with a smirk.

Buffy eyed him carefully and bit back the almost automatic “stalker much.” retort. Last night’s Spike had made her wary but there were no traces of his fury of last night. He did, however, look odd, somehow. Everything about his posture was normal, he sprawled out on the couch like he was carefree and maybe even a little bored; but with something else. The word guarded came unbidden to her mind. That surprised her. She had made her amends long ago with the fact that she would never be able to lie to Spike convincingly, but she never really thought that all the time they had spent together meant she could read him too.

“Spike--”

“Nightmare?”

She stopped and changed gears. “I think I’ve managed to shake the nightmare bug. You?”

Spike shook his head.

Buffy was about to say something about small victories until something occurred to her. She felt her stomach drop to the floor, every muscle in her body constricted in panic. Spike’s laid back posture dissolved in an instant.

“Slayer?”

“I had a nightmare and then I got up and then nothing. I thought that I just willed it away, you know? but that dream I had, it felt different, less dreamy like I was really there. It must have been a slayer dream.” She said grimly. “I thought I was doing better! I thought I was doing the slayer thing! Guh, Kicking the nightmare problem with resolve face? what an idiot. I need to write this down so we can use it.” She immediately began looking around for a pen and paper.

Spike exhaled sharply. Her attention turned to him but instead of the concern she was expecting, Spike just looked irritated.
“Why are you so determined to be upset about this?”

Buffy looked confused. “What?”

“You’re blocking out any possibility that the sprog could be a good thing. You’re just interested in it being a monster that you’ll have to slay or something evil and I think you’re just upset that it my child in there and not your precious Angel’s.”

She froze.

She immediately felt guilty. That soulless comment must have cut deep. Spike wasn’t looking at her, and the Spike swaggering posture was back but it was much clearer to her now that this was something Spike thought about often. Angel was his mentor once and he measured himself on that measuring stick, she realised suddenly that he often found himself wanting.

Fuck, this was going to require some delicate handling and she was fumbly Buffy around this kind of thing at the best of times. She could really only tell him the truth and hope he had his stupidly astute Spike instincts on and that they weren’t dulled by his insecurities.

She would be lying if she told him that the thought hadn't occurred to her. What would have happened if the vampire that Genesis had chosen had been Angel and not Spike? There had been times when they were holed up in Paddington when she wondered what it would have been like if it had been his child was carrying. She would be just as worried about the chest-burst factor. But something told her Angel would not have been the partner she needed to get through this he would brood endlessly and let her sink into her own hole of depression or he would have dragged her back in there half cocked and guns blazing and they would both be under a fog of drugs in that facility for who knows how long. The last time something really traumatic happened to Angel he tried to off himself and the time before that he lived in the sewers for 90 years. Angel would need Buffy to have it together. Spike had not.

He didn’t really need her at all, he was the one who had all the contacts and the survival instincts. He took her with him because-because honestly she wasn’t really sure. He was on the verge of saying so last night but part of her didn’t want him to. It was like there was a place in her head she couldn’t go. Like a button that she could put her finger on but her subconscious told her that on no uncertain terms she was not supposed to.

Spike took her silence badly.

“That’s it isn’t it. You just want to be devastated about this because it isn’t normal. You want it to be evil so that you can leave it behind and go be bright and shiny Buffy just like everyone else. Tell you what slayer, you’re not the only one in this.” He said, that quiet rage was starting up again. “And you know what a half-slayer hybrid looks like and she has your soddin’ nose and I hope that girl never has to hear you on and on about this. Because she worships you and it would hurt her and sometimes a bad dream is just a bad dream!”

Spike got up and was about to stomp away but Buffy knew she had to do something.

“You idiot!” she exclaimed. “This isn’t about you! I know I’m not the only one in this and I know that Alex is the best case scenario! I just-I just I don’t want this because I don’t want to have the kid that they created!” she said it without really thinking about it but as soon as she said it she knew that it was true. “Alex was a miracle because her parents—the other us—loved each other or something like that. She was a gift. This one isn’t.” She paused realizing how awful she sounded taking about an unborn child but she had to press on. “You aren’t the only one who’s always wanted a family, I just—” Her voice broke a little. “They ruined this for me too. They took everything and shit all over it and I don’t want to think of that every time I look at it. I don’t want to hate a baby just because of how it was made.”

Spike had stopped and turned around. The posturing was gone he was looking at her hard now, determining if she was telling him the truth.

“I was raped, Spike.” She said. This was the first time she had never really said it out loud. She was surprised and pleased that she didn’t feel the prickle of tears in her eyes. In the weeks they were alone in Paddington, even while patrolling they talked about many things but they both avoided talking about what happened to them. It was unspoken and absolute. They talked about the aftermath, they talked about coping sometimes but they never talked about it. Doing it now felt a lot like the first time Buffy had ever said the F word. Or the first time she dropped the slayer-bomb in front of her mom. “and so were you. And now we have to deal with what we hope is a child and-”

“It’s human, I keep tellin’ you. I can hear the heartbeat.”

Buffy looked away. She desperately wanted to believe him but everything bad had happened and it was very hard to think something good could come of this.

“I-I-I- don’t think mortal enemies will make good parents.”

He said nothing at first. This was his specialty. He could always get passed every barrier she tried to put up to see right to her; especially in situations like this, complicated ones when she was afraid to say what she was feeling especially when she was sure of what she was supposed to be feeling.

“We’re not mortal enemies pet,” he said finally. “and you and I both know we haven’t been for a while.” She didn’t have to say anything. “what they did, we’ll make them pay for it. But you aren’t going to hate this kid because of them. I know you don’t and I know you think you will but—” he stopped suddenly.

“But what?”

“Can I try something?” he asked hesitantly.

Buffy wasn’t really sure why but her mind went right back into panic mode. He plopped down beside her before she could say anything and her heart started to hammer in her chest. She was mindful that Spike could hear it and it took every trick Giles had ever taught her to make it stop.

“Lie back.” He said.

Buffy’s tummy was quickly filling with butterflies. What on earth was going on? he couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Her mind suddenly jumped back to that episode a year and a million ago when she and Spike had thought they were engaged. He wasn’t going to do that now was her? They had been yelling at each other a few seconds ago. “Spike what are you—”

But before she could say anything he splayed his fingers on her belly and gently pushed her back. His hand was cool and callused and her control on her heartbeat slipped. This was getting more intimate than she was comfortable with but she couldn’t make herself make him stop. He leaned towards her and She felt her lips go dry and her eyes flutter closed even while she was unsure of if she wanted him to move forward but then she felt the pressure on her tummy and she realized he had pressed his ear to her abdomen and was tapping lightly on it. She wanted to ask him what he was doing when she realized that he was tapping in rhythm. It was the baby’s heartbeat.

Spike was having a difficult time as well. He was doing his very best not to drown in a cloud of Buffy sensations. He could hear her breathing slow as she tried to keep her heartbeat in check, but her eyes betrayed her, they were usually green but right now they were black. Spike was fighting everything in him that wanted to take her right there, he knew she was willing, he was currently trying to not to breathe because if he could smell it there was no telling what he would do. His mind was already going a mile a minute forming clumsy verses that even he knew were bloody awful. He forced himself to concentrate on the low whirring noise. The light pitter patter that was the heartbeat of his child.

“I thought if you could hear what I heard, maybe it would put the Alien-chest burster theory to bed.” His voice was a low rumble. He had hoped he would be able to keep it together better than this was but he couldn’t help it, he had to take a breath to talk and she smelled like vanilla but also blood and sweat. The latter smells spoke straight to his demon.

Buffy felt all her emotions swell. Relief that she could finally let go of the monster theory, and the powerful gush of love that she felt for it told her that she would have no trouble feeling for this baby in the way that it deserved. She knew it was irrational but it sort of suddenly hit her that part of her was upset about the negative test because she had always wanted to have a family eventually and she maybe had lost her chance. But now she had what felt like concrete proof of her child. Her child with Spike. Spike who was purring a little and that was making her tingly and suddenly even her subconscious couldn’t stop her from asking him what he had meant last night when he said that she knew why he did everything he did for her.

“Spike,”

He could hear it in her voice. She was going to ask him something that he couldn’t help but answer truthfully and he knew that it would change everything and not necessarily for the better. He wanted more than anything for her not to ask him about that. He scrambled for something to say, anything to stop her.

He sprang up suddenly cutting her off.

“Buffy,” he said wielding her name like a weapon. “I can’t think of someone who would make a better mum.”

He looked a little like she was snapping out of a daze.

“Sides,” he continued. “The way I see it, the sprog’ll be one hell of a fighter. You haven’t seen the minion in action, luv. She’s a force to be reckoned with; took down two buggers as big as grappler demons and the sprog will probably be the same. We’ll train it and fight beside it and you won’t have to worry about it bein’ so breakable.” He stood with a sigh needing to put some space between them. “Not after we’re done with it.” He quickly found how footing, looking for more to say just to keep her distracted. “And you and I both know who’s fault it is that we’re going through this, and we’re going to find them and kill them with our hands.”

Buffy actually smiled a little. She had never thought that the thought of killing someone, a human someone with her bare hands would be something to smile about. But she was not aware of what humans could be capable of.

“I knew I was going to keep it.” She said softly. “that’s why I was worried. I couldn’t kill it but I wasn’t sure if I could keep myself from hating it. I’m so sorry about yesterday, Spike, I was doing the freaked-out-Buffy thing where I know I’m saying something that will hurt but I’m not so much with the caring.”

Spike smirked and she was worried he would turn back into closed off guarded Spike again.

“The soul-less jab was just lazy, pet.” He said and Buffy felt like she had jettisoned 10 lbs. “I was all hurt that that was the best you could come up with."

“How about fangless wonder?”

“Cautionary tale.” Spike shot back easily.

“Pathetic excuse for a vampire.”

“Slayer-PSA.”

“Flaccid-fangs!”

“Dropout!”

Buffy gasped and threw punch Spike caught almost lazily. She tried again and then blocked one of his jabs. Neither was trying too hard, Spike was still too hurt to fight properly.

“Billy-Idol rip-off!”

“Hey!” Spike replied affronted, “I’ll have you know that that pillock stole his look from me, you cheerleader wannabe!”

“I was a cheerleader in LA!” Buffy thundered back. “And fiesta queen! It’s not my fault a witch nearly killed off half the Sunnydale squad and cursed me!”

“What rot!” he blocked a roundhouse. “You just want to be just like that Chase-bitch. Too bad you don’t pull of the hair.”

“YOU SAID YOU LIKED MY HAIR!” Buffy thundered. Suddenly the playful sparring turned into something more serious.

Unbeknownst to them, Wes, Raj and Alex had arrived with breakfast pastries, coffee and freshly stolen blood for Spike.

“Think they’ve made up?” Alex whispered.

Raj and Wes just shrugged.

Back in their own world Buffy was reveling in the thrill she always felt when she was fighting with Spike. Trading insults was proving to be fun as well, but now that she had opened that door she couldn’t quite close it all the way.

“Spike what did you mean last night when you said I knew why you were helping me?”

Spike was caught so off guard that she caught him right in the face. his hands flew to his nose and he growled loudly.

Alex chose this moment to intervene.

“Pastries!” she said a hair too loudly. “Hot and fresh! Much like myself and this blood we got off a lax health security employee. Who says we suck at the spy thing?”

Buffy whirled around in surprise and Alex shoved a coffee into her hand. She reached out to pull Spike to his feet and he sent her a grateful look that had nothing to do with her helping him get up.

“I do.” Raj said putting down the other food stuff. “what he did was basically: For the love of God! Look over there!” he yelled pointing and the mimed grabbing a bunch of blood bags.

“A classic for a reason.” Alex replied easily. She turned to Spike. “Should I microwave these? We don’t have mugs but I could put it in a cactus.”

She held up plastic cactus cups that were probably meant to hold Margaritas. Spike shook his head and took a blood bag from Alex. He drank it like a juice box.

“Someone has spirits that are high.” Buffy observed. She took a cinnamon bun and a sip of coffee. The look she shot Spike said she had not closed the subject but the vampire had turned away from her.

“What would be the sweet, sweet smell of freedom.” Alex said, she raised her cup and Buffy noticed the telltale green straw for the first time. “And coffee that should legally have to be called a milkshake. No joke, this has cookies in it.”

“Wow.” Buffy said. “ has Starbucks stopped giving people diabetic comas in the future place?”

Alex shook her head. “No they’re around but the specialty drinks are sort of a no-no. The barista will look at you all judgy if you don’t order an organic, free-trade, pour-over and then drink it black.”

Raj choked on his own coffee. Buffy suspected that his coffee order was close to the concoction Alex had just described.

“Thank heavens you were saved from the hell dimension.” she said with a grin.

They had all taken places around the couch, Buffy noticed a wall mounted tv for the first time and flicked around looking for an English channel. Alex was explaining how she also had to bring her own mug because while paper cups were still around the plastic ones like the one she was holding were gone.

“Have you two been just quizzin’ the poor girl all morning?” Spike demanded. Raj and Wesley who had both been riveted to her descriptions of her world both looked away suddenly guilty.

“Watchers.” Spike said with a roll of his eyes. “I bet you didn’t get any of the important stuff like who won the world cup or the kentucky derby and winning lottery numbers and what not hAven’t any of you seen Back to the Future?”

“Ohh!” Buffy tore herself away from CNN and turned to Alex excitedly. “What colour Gatorade will flavorize next?”

“Orange.” Alex replied stoically.

Buffy shot her a dirty look.

“Actually, we’ve come to the conclusions that since Alex is technically from another dimension the same numbers and trends do not necessarily apply.” Wesley said. he looked too excited about this for comfort. “In her world the events of the last few months didn’t transpire and the world went in a different direction.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buffy replied before he could go on as he clearly wanted to. “I get it. Parallel and not necessarily future-times. I went to high school on a hellmouth. Do you think I’ve never met someone from another dimension?”

“Er, perhaps, but you’ve never underwent the process yourself.”

This launched them into a now familiar argument about who had more exposure to the forces of evil. Raj shot Spike a bemused look.

“You ever been to another dimension?” he asked.

Spike shook his head as he finished the second bag and belched loudly. “No but came close to being sucked into a hell dimension once. It involved big rock.”

“I heard about Acathla.” Raj said, he took advantage of the moment Buffy had to put down the remote to take a bite of cinnamon bun to snatch it and switch the channel to the BBC. He ignored Buffy’s protest and continued his conversation with Spike. “You were involved?”

“Yeah, slayer and I saved the world.” He said with a grin and a nostalgic chuckle then he seemed to remember that he was meant to be evil and added. “Mostly her, I was just in it for myself. And Dru.”

“Spike,” Alex observed. “You have like zero evil cred, I hope you know that.”

“Oi! You watch your mouth, Minion.” He said.

“I’m not your minion!”

“I just made you break laws to bring me blood.” Spike said tucking into the third blood bag. “I think that does wonders for my rep.”

On the other side of the couch, Wesley and Buffy were still trying to prove one evil fighting force better than the other. They had moved over to the scope of their endeavors. Their argument was much more interesting than what the BBC reporter was droning on about.

“It’s a hellmouth, Wes,” Buffy said. “You were there, the baddie I had to deal with everyday they were not of your garden variety. Our mayor was a full-pure demon. I’m talking humongous snake!”

“We are dealing with lawyers.”

“It ate principal Snyder!”

“Then how bad could it have possibly been?”

“Fascinating as both of you are being,” Raj cut in suddenly. “We are currently dealing with mad scientist-surgeons who are trying to make an army of super humans. So maybe the past performance could be used a little more constructively?”

“Took care of one of those last year.” Buffy said triumphantly. “Buffy 1, US Army 0.”

Everyone stared at her.

“You’ve dealt with something like Genesis before?”

Buffy shrugged. “The initiative weren’t so interested in the mystical, more physical. How to build better soldier only literally. They weren’t quite as subtle as Genesis, strictly a slash and grab scenario. It was an army project that went a little psycho but we took them down. They were also burned out and the army promised to leave the hellmouth to the professionals.”

“You think Genesis may have taken Adam’s notes, though?” Alex asked.

Both Buffy and Spike looked at her wondering where she had found that name. Spike hastily glanced at Buffy hoping she had put that nasty business of Adam’s behind her. Buffy wasn’t paying him any attention.

“Gramps is iffy with the hiding of the watcher diaries.” she said with a little shrug. She missed the small amused smiles Buffy and Spike exchanged.

“You think that they are being funded by a government entity?” Raj asked he had gone a little green at the prospect.

“Perhaps not; but their resources are more plentiful than we originally thought,” Wesley replied also looking worried. “The helicopters were an unwelcome surprise. I had thought they would at least try and maintain the unspoken agreement we all have to keep the public at large ignorant of the mystical forces.”

“I actually was sure it was the watcher’s council.” Buffy said. “who else would have access to me and slayer data.”

Raj and Wesley both chuckled darkly.

“It would take years for the council to be able to put together something of this magnitude.”

“And the other argument of the thing is how unprecedented it is to try and make a vampire hybrid also comes to mind.” Raj piped up. “You would be surprised how compelling the argument of ‘it’s never happened before’ or ‘it’s just not done’ can be in a council meeting.”

There was a sudden, shrill chirrup of a cell phone. Everyone was instantly on edge. Every other time something like that had happened they had to haul as to a new place to out run the Project. But Wesley made calming gestured and showed them him flip phone. Apparently he had worked out how to use the various plugs situated around the couch--probably for blacklights or other party favors--and his phone was now fully charged.

“Oh, dear,” he said flicking through the messages.

“Problem in Angel-town?” Spike asked lazily.

Wesley nodded. “Angel is at present at a retreat in Sri Lanka.” he said distractedly the messages were becoming more and more disturbing. “He went there after we got news of Buffy’s demise.” he glanced up guiltily at the slayer and then went back to his phone. “He’s not returned, but Cordelia’s visions have been getting more and more violent and her reactions more and more severe.” Buffy could hear a small tinny voice coming from the phone saying “...First Angel and now you, This isn’t good for the crew, English. I’m this close to recruiting phantom Dennis. You need to be back here now--there was a horrible screaming in the background--Cordy says to bring her some Toblerone.” Wesley grimaced. “It sounds like I’m needed at home.”

There was a short silence. They had been operating on a short term plan for so long, get to the package, get to the station, shake off the goons, get to Prague that no one really wanted to talk about the longer term goals.

“There is a leak in the council ranks.” Raj said finally breaking the tension. “that we know, so Genesis is at least getting their information from the diaries in the council’s possession, especially the ones from Xin Ming and Nikki Wood’s watcher about Spike. I think our first move should be to find out who that is.”

“You plan on going back?” Buffy said incredulously. “won’t they be suspicious of you having just” she made a waggly motion with her hands. “Disappeared?”

Raj shook his head.

“I paid a kid in japan to play my World of Warcraft account since I’ve been gone.” Raj said. “Which was more for Genesis than the Council since I’m on bereavement leave. No one there takes me seriously anyway, I’m an IT guy. I spend all day scanning books and making databases. I might as well be an demon minion for all they care since they consider progress to be ranked somewhere around the Beast and the abomination on the list of things to be worried about.”

Raj’s mention of the Beast and the Abomination made Buffy pause for a moment, it was just a slight hitch of her breath that no one noticed.

“You would just go back to your house like nothing ever happened?” Alex asked.

Raj thought for a moment and then nodded grimly. “I have to.” he said. “We need an in at the Watcher’s council and if I’m in London I can get a better hold of my friend in the Genesis organization.”

“Impressive covert network for an IT guy.” Buffy observed.

Raj flushed. “Putting Simon in there was Dad’s idea. This whole thing was on his radar long before it was on mine.” he said quietly. “I sort of suggested a friend without thinking. We’re lucky he turned out to be quite up to the job.”

“Looks like we’re heading back to England.” Spike said.

“Back there? are you fucking mad?” Buffy demanded. “We can’t go back there! Genesis keeps finding us there!”

“what did you think we were going to do, pet?”

“I don’t know split up?”

“We’re going to need to get you checks-up and the suchlike, yeah?”

“They have doctors here!” she replied. her panic was evident in her voice and she did her best to tamp down on it. Even saying it she knew they couldn’t stay here, the apartment was not made for human habitation, the party time lay out made it a good place to crash but there was no stove, very little kitchen and the bathroom was improvised. The whole apartment looked much shabbier by the light of day. Still, they were off the grid and hard to find, and while she knew that was her priority now 9 months was a long time to live showering by pouring water from a basin over herself with a large ladle. She saw the grim finality on everyone else’s face. “but I thought the Paddington place was burned.”

“I have another place.” Spike said finally. “I’m not sure how nice it will be but it will be more comfortable than this.” he paused and then said more gently, “Pet, this is the first move. We can’t hide out forever and a little while ago you were all gunning to make them into shoes. Well, this is it. we figure out the scope of their operations and strike.”

“Uh, not to be all voice-of reason,” Alex spoke up. “but Spike’s got a little pesky chip in his head and Buffy’s pregnant. Maybe The Great Genesis Caper has to take a backseat for a little while?”

“See? laying low makes sense.” Buffy said.

“Pet,” Spike said. “They’ve been readin’ up on me so they know that Prague is a place I know well and they might find Thora. They won’t be expectin’ us back in England. Not right in their front garden.”

“But the chip?”

“Actually I have some contacts that I can mobilize in Los Angeles.” Wesley said. “And I’d imagine the watcher’s council may have considerable databases on the subject.”

“We would have to be careful about it.” Raj said with a nod. “but I can rustle together some names.”

“And I’d imagine, Alex is going to have to go to school at some point.” the older watcher said carefully.

“Wait, what?” Alex said suddenly. She had been nodding along to what everyone was saying. “No, no, I went to the slayer Academy. I’m all done.”

Wes, Raj and Spike all gave her identical looks that said clearly that she was going to be going to school no matter what she said. She looked at Buffy for back up but the slayer was lost in her own thoughts. She deflated. Spike looked triumphantly at Raj and raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Winter term has probably already started but I’m sure I can find something.” he said. “Think of it this way, Lex, people would notice a youth out of school. We need to blend in as much as possible.”

Alex didn’t look at him. “I loath you with everything that I am and will make life a living hell for you if you dare put me in some sort of strict, reform all-girls school!”

They each turned to Buffy looking at her expectantly. And the slayer deflated. “So how are we going to get there?”
Chapter 15 - No. 9 Wilton Crescent by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi! I'm back. I'm so sorry! I know its been a very long time and there is no excuse bu after this chapter you'll get why it's taken me so long to write the next one and I wanted to have that at least somewhat done when I posted this one. Let me know what you all think!!


Enjoy!

>Petra
Chapter Fifteen – No. 9 Wilton Crescent

Buffy closed her eyes and held onto the arm rest of her chair like it was a lifeline. The plane shuddered and lurched and she wondered for a hundredth time how she had let Spike talk her into this. Buffy wasn’t a great flier in the best of times and these were not the best of times.

Just twelve hours earlier they were all sitting around the apartment in Prague brainstorming on how to get over the border into the UK with the least amount of suspicion. Their usual method of Spike vamping out to scare the skin off various transportation employees was too conspicuous and the last thing they needed was for the rumor of monsters at a UK border crossing, one slip meant that they were stuck on an island with not very many escape routes. The identities Raj had created before the rescue of Alex were compromised, so official means were out. Buffy’s suggestion was to find a coyote; her reasoning behind that being: people had to be paying to be spirited into the UK in secret all the time, but Wesley had pointed out that anyone who charged money to smuggle humans into a country were too easily bought. Alex had offered to hide in a suitcase while they crossed the border but the cars were randomly searched on the ferry from Calais. Finally, Buffy had thrown up her hands in frustration and demanded to know how Spike had managed to get passed an angry mob last time. And he had told her.

“You fly? How do you do that? There’s no way to be sure no daylight!”

Spike had scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m guessing my grandsire told you that.” He said.

Angel had. Buffy had just nodded, deciding against bringing up the circumstances.

“Peaches is afraid of the buggers. He’s never been one to go with progress and being so far off the ground gets him right up in his bonnet.” Spike said with an impatient wave of his hand. “But it's the best way of getting around the official-like borders.”

“Airplanes and airports are the best way to bypass official check points? I don’t think that’s true.” Wes had said skeptically. “Everything that gets on an airplane is incredibly well regulated.”

And Spike smiled a smile they were all really coming to hate, it was knowing, smug and usually lead to badness.

“That’s because you’re thinking of passenger jets.”

And that was how they got to be on a Cargo plane from Prague to London, sitting in strapped down recliners and helping themselves to whatever goodies were in the crates around them. The hold had no seatbelts, no windows and was almost unbearably cold but Spike had packed extra blankets from Thora’s fun house and the whole ordeal might have been halfway pleasant if it hadn’t been so bumpy.

Cargo planes, apparently, are sometimes chartered by mail companies and are loaded by airline personnel who work for the air port or work for the people who are hired by the airport and in all the paperwork and hubbub of packing everything into a plane it was easy to pass off as contract employees or supervisors--easy to slip in and out unnoticed. Cargo planes also tended to arrive in the earlier hours of the morning so that they could get packed onto lorries that would get to their destinations long before the rest of the world woke up.

There was security of course, But every alarm was set off by heat signatures so all it took was for Spike to waltz into any secure area first, disable the sensor and the rest could follow. Spike had actually told them that there must be some sort of unconscious symbiotic relationship because the security was a joke and an inordinate amount of comfortable seating was shipped un-crated.

They had explored the plane as they waited to for it to disembark, Buffy had found a new pair of shearling boots and tucked her fancy heeled ones into one of their suitcases.

All in all it was a great set up until the plane started to move. Suddenly the hold that had felt so large before now felt very small and Buffy was surprised how much the presence of windows and announcements made the turbulence easier to bear--because their abscence was accutely felt. She would have taken up Raj’s offer of some of the champagne he had pulled out of a crate if she wasn’t so worried about having to pee. The plane didn’t have facilities in the cargo hold and it wasn't as if she could just pry her way into the cockpit and ask to use their bathroom.

The plane hit some sort of air bump, juddered and dropped and Buffy felt her insides lurch. Thinking about a bethroom made her want to use the bathroom.

Uh-helpful reminder, stupid brain! Buffy scolded herself. Because pregnant slayers being shake and baked? not so good. It was definitely making her want to hurl something big.

Alex had pressed a bright pink souvenir ten gallon hat into her hands in case she needed to be sick. The slayer, however, managed to calm herself using Ayurveda breathing techniques, worrying the ornamental bird on the hat and thinking of ever more creative ways to skin Spike.

The thing about flying in airplanes, Buffy thought, was that usually, there were windows so you didn’t feel like you were sitting in a metallic tube being shot across the sky fast enough to pull the skin off your body. Usually, there were nice ladies wearing absurd uniforms offering libations and food and other comforts. They made announcements that told you when turbulence was going to happen or gave warnings about such things as take-off so that you weren’t suddenly pushed back in your seat. Usually planes had things like cabin heating and seat belts. Spike’s way of flying didn’t have any of those things. Spike’s way of flying made Buffy wish she had not asked him how to get to England.

She was glad to see that she wasn’t the only one. Wesley was sitting next to her and he also looked a little green around the gills.

Raj and Alex however were clearly having the time of their lives. While they were still on the ground waiting for take-off the two of them had been exploring the different packing crates. Now, Raj clearly had a good buzz going though he kept trying to hand off his champagne bottle to get other people as sloshed as he clearly was. Alex had found a fur stole somewhere. She had draped it around her shoulders and it clashed horribly with the t-shirt and tartan flannel she was wearing under her coat.

She and Raj were using the recline feature on the Lazy boys as a sort of quick draw duel.

The plane suddenly fell a few hundred feet and Buffy’s ears popped. She felt herself curse out loud.

“What was that, slayer?”

“I said,” she repeated. “that when my feet hit solid ground again I’m going to use your bones to make jewelry! Do you hear me, Spike?” she screamed. “And not fashionable jewelry! Mom jewelry!”

“I always did get on with your mum, luv!” Spike replied easily. He was positively beaming, sitting in his buttery recliner and watching Raj get progressively drunker and drunker.

Buffy was about to retort but she was distracted by Alex who had taken the bottle and drank deeply. Usually Buffy would have been all sorts of awkward trying to sort out her relationship with this girl she had known for exactly two days and yet was her daughter, but there was no awkward Buffy when she was this angry.

“Should you be drinking, young lady?” she demanded.

Alex shrugged she was a bit red already from just a few sips but was clearly trying to pretend it wasn't affecting her. “What? Worried about what I might do and where I might go? Duck out of this party? crash a few raves and then get a tramp stamp in an AIDS alley?”

All the sober adults gave her a weird look but Raj burst out laughing. Alex looked pleased.

“He thinks I’m funny.”

“He thinks he’s only had one bottle.” Spike retorted, he jerked his head at Wesley. “And here I thought you could drink, mate.”

Wes nodded smiling tightly. He sat tensed like a bowstring.

“Relaaaaaaaax, Buffs.” The younger, drunken watcher slurred happily. Buffy was starting to worry about him. And them if he drank anymore She wasn't sure if they could get far away enough from wasted-vomit. “This is basically international waters! Sky law states that she can totally drink as much as her little hybrid heart desires. She’s got a nice little bit in a nice controlled environment so she can see how nice alcohol is and have I used nice too much? I think maybe it's lost all meaning to me. Nice. Nice. Nice. NIce."

No one replied to him for a while and he petered off. Then a few seconds later he seemed to regain this train of thought.

"She's--" he pointed to Alex. "Learnin' how to handle it! Like a pro. She'll be a pro. She also needs to stop tap dancing because its starting to make m’head throb!”

Alex was seated in her own recliner and was not--in fact--moving. Raj grinned.

"So relaxxxxxxxxx, Buffy." He drawled.

“Don’t tell me to relax—“

The plan hit a spot of turbulence and they all bounced in their chairs. Buffy and Wesley groaned.

“This isn’t you first flight is it?” Alex asked as gently as she could, Buffy was in the kind of mood that could snap pretty quickly.

Buffy flushed.

“No! Of course not! I’ve flown lots!” she said quickly but relented when no one seemed to be buying it. “Okay so maybe not lots and lots. I went once to visit my cousin Celia in Chicago. Bathrooms were small, food was shitty.”

“There was food? On an airplane?” Alex exclaimed looking shocked. Everyone turned to look at her. She realized then what year she was in and grimaced. “er… spoilers?”

“Alex, you should be a little more careful about what you reveal about the future.” Wes scolded trying to look stern and failing and swaying a bit.

“Don’t worry so much, Oxford!” Spike said reclining his own seat and sinking down in to the leather. “Have a little bubbly.”

“This is so illegal.” Buffy piped up. “I’m just going to be the one that says it.”

That elicited a bark of laughter from the vampire. “Of course it’s illegal. But we lucked out on this ride. I’ve been in one of these on my way to Manila, with about a hundred crates of apples, never really got that smell out of the duster. Last time Dru and I were trapped for 10 hours with a drugged elephant. Let me tell you those things can get flatule-”

“I am going to put snakes in your duster, Spike, and you won’t know how many there are or if you’ve gotten them all!”

“You asked for the fastest and safest way to England.”

“Snakes, Spike!”

He chuckled but said nothing else until they touched down in the wee hours of the morning.


*****


Buffy had wanted to get out of the plane right away but Spike had held her back. Sure enough a few inspectors went around marking off the crates and checking who would need to come in first. They rotated their hiding places as other officials and people in coveralls came in to appraise how to go about unpacking

Finally people started carting things off the place starting, apparently, with the champagne. They hid behind a few larger crates toward the back of the plane everyone trying to be as quiet as possible except for Raj who had found an emptied out plastic jug of motor oil and was gleefully pissing into it.

Buffy sighed. “I think this is the classiest moment of my life.”

Alex chortled, but the men unloading the champagne had gone and they had a very short window to get off before the rest of the movers claimed different items in the hold. They found themselves in the middle of a deserted airfield. Naturally they all looked to Spike to take point. He lead them out of the open and behind a few hangars.

There was a chain link fence indicating the end of the airport. Spike looked like he was counting. Seconds later, he found what he was looking for because he yanked the metal links and they whined but eventually gave, creating a hole just large enough for them to sneak under. He lead them through a couple of large empty spaces, it was hard to figure out what they were for, and in the near oppressive cold darkness of the morning no one asked. They sprinted in the dark until they got to a few better lighted bits of the airport grounds. Spike managed to lead them passed the busy spots skirting a few official looking guys, which was a feat with a very drunk Raj blathering on and on about rabbits on top hats.

“Can’t risk being seen on the airport CCTV.” Spike said reaching out and pulling Raj into a hiding spot behind some pallets and a crate of what looked like airline food. He motioned to the rest of them to crouch beside him. “So we sneak on the underground from here.”

He indicated a tunnel that looked like it was made of those scissor trucks. He held up a hand for second and then waved for all the rest of them to go before him. They sprinted through two yards of brightly lit airport service road and then were safe uner cover of the maintenance tunnel.

“Minion, can you hear anything?”

“No one ahead of us.” Alex called back.

It was a short walk they came to a door. Spike pushed through it and then kept it open urging each of the company out onto a narrow ledge.

“Keep pressed against the wall.” The vampire warned. “There’s a train coming.”

There was a sudden rumble and a train came crashing into the station maybe a foot from Buffy’s nose, Spike pried the door open and they made their way inside. The cabin was empty except for a few tramps sleeping in the corner, the little group expected stares but the denizens of the London Underground had seen much more than well-dressed criminal elements sneaking onto a train and just went about their business

Buffy scowled and threw herself into one of the seats. The cold train-voice informed her to alight at this stop for something or other but everyone was too distracted by the flight and adrenaline. Although it was testament to the amount of times they had been in real and present danger than smuggling people into a country barely even phased her.

Raj was not offering one of the homeless people a swig of his champagne and the grizzled man started to make an awful sound and looked like he was choking on his own vomit. When he noticed this Raj started whaking him on the back until Wes physically dragged him away. Alex was trying not to giggle and Buffy glared at Spike.

"Snakes." she promised.


*****


Even though it was nearly dawn by the time Spike lead them out for the station there were still people stumbling across the streets. They had managed to find that golden hour when the sloppy, late-night revelers were heading home and the most dedicated city financial brokers were trucking in to get a sneak peak of the Ang seng.

Spike lead them away from the main road and Buffy looked around at all the pretty row houses and private gardens. This was a whole world away from the places that they had been staying in. The last flat in London had been on top of a Chinese take-out place that was delicious but made everything smell like onions and soy sauce and Thora’s place was in the warehouse district of Prague, and it didn't really have much by way of plumbing. It also looked like a morning-after advertisement when the sun came up. This, however, was quiet and deserted in that nice way that really quiet fancy suburbs were. The streets were cut with parks and lined with the kind of townhouses that reminded Buffy of the Mr's Higgin's house part of My Fair Lady. Clearly she was not the only one surprised, Wesley was looking at Spike in frank askance and Raj would probably have been too if he wasn’t leaning heavily on Alex and attempting to make her sing with him.

Spike turned a corner and onto a narrower street with smaller brick houses. He stopped short and gestured towards one a few doors down. It was innocuous enough, yellow brick, garage door, but no décor, no flower boxes or lively paint jobs. Alex steadied Raj against the brick. He motioned for them to press against the wall.

“There’ll be a nest of vamps in there. " he said. Then he turned his attention to Buffy. "Fancy a spot of violence, pet?”

Buffy shrugged. “After Momoe the hobo almost yakked on my favorite new boots. I’m totally down for a little old fashioned havoc. I’m blaming that on you by the way.” She directed the last bit to Raj.

Raj protested. “He was telling me about goat herding in Romania.” He said. “Mosha? What was his name? Molar? He was my friend! Like my best friend! Or he could have been if we were allowed to have a little more time together!” he attempted to glare at Alex and Wes. "We could have been like Bert and Ernie! LIke Murtagh and Riggs! Like--like--"

“Like alcohol and poor life choices?” Alex suggested with a smirk.

“May be best if boy-wonder sits this one out, yeah?” Spike said mirroring Alex’s smirk.

“Sit it out?” demanded Raj. “I want to fight! I can fight! I'm learning! I punched Boris!”

He was referring to the second train they took when Raj nearly picked a fight with a grizzled Russian immigrant who smelled like cabbage and could easily have crushed Raj into powder.

“Yeah and we had to throw him off the train so he wouldn’t retaliate.” Buffy said. “Consider yourself benched, reebok.”

Raj peered at her confusedly for a second and then looked down at his feet. “Reebok! Like my shoes!”

“Should maybe someone stay behind and make sure he, you know?” Alex suggested waving her hand vaguely.

"I don't know!"

Alex ignored him. "Tried to get himself involved?"

“Nawwwww, it’s all posh here, innit!” Raj said. “And if all you fighters think I can't fight well then fine! I won't! I’ll just wait with the bags. And if someone comes round I always have my high-pitched and audibly effective squealing.”

“Right.” Wesley said with a wry grin. He rummaged around in the cases for stakes and a few daggers taking care to be as quiet as possible.

Once they were all armed Spike lead them to the door.

“Follow me. We'll have a few seconds before they can react proper.” He said, he kicked the door in and hurried up the flight of stairs.

The nest consisted of a little more than a half a dozen vamps crammed into a shabby little living room. Buffy dusted one before anyone had even really registered they were being attacked. But once they realized what was happening, she could see why Spike wanted the element of surprise. All of them were huge.

Buffy fought off two large red-head vamps with buzz cuts while Spike leaped over a large black guy who tackled Wes. Buffy hurriedly jabbed a stake straight through this heart and he exploded into dust. She was quickly pulled into a melee with another large dark haired vamp whom she made quick work of. SHe looked over her shoulder to see Wes was grappling with someone in the kitchen-area and Spike had just dusted two of them and physically pulled another off Wes to stake it.

Across the room Alex was fighting off three. Spike was right; she was a whirlwind--her fighting style was unlike anything Buffy had seen before, it consisted of a lot of grappling and using her lower-body to throw vamps twicer her size to the ground. She didn’t seem to need to touch the floor at all. There was a lot of acrobatics that Buffy frankly thought was unnecessary--but fun to watch. Her momentary distraction cost her and the other vamp she had knocked down at recovered and dove at her middle. She was able to turn in the last second and protect her abdomen, but the action cost her a favorable attack position.

“Lexy, stop dancing and help me out!”

Alex hurriedly plunged a stake through her opponent's heart and the vamp exploded into dust. She then jabbed the same stake right through the heart of the vamp who she had thrown to the floor and he exploded into dust. She then twrled balletically kicking the last vamp she was fighting in the face and throwing her stake right through the heart of the one top of Buffy.

“Losing your touch, old lady?” She said reaching out a hand to pull Buffy up.

“I was distracted.” the slayer responded with a scowl, but she accepted the lift.

In the kitchen Wesley finally managed to get the upper hand and a second later they heard the vamp dust.

That was it. They had gotten them all, all except for the demon leader who was a scrawny and water-y eyed, Spike held him against the wall with a hand around his throat. Buffy had not noticed the vamp in the melee.

The vamp squirmed in his grasp but then Spike vamped out and he stilled.

“Good god, your Lo-”

Spike narrowed his eyes.

The smaller vamp in his grip cringed and fell silent.

“You made minions, Morton?” Spike said in a low, dangerous voice. He was all master vamp now, there was no trace of the Spike who had cracked jokes and told stories about elephant farts. He shook the minion a little.

“The house needed tending to, your lor—”

“Is that what I told you to do, Morty?”

Morty flinched at the name and then timidly shook his head.

“But you did everything else that I asked of you?”

Spike let him go and he slumped. Spike looked like he was about to kick him but he paused.

“Of course, sir.” Morty said looking oddly dignified. “We’ve kept it ready, lo-sir”

“Any other minions I need to know about?”

The vampire known as Morty shook his head. Spike hauled him back up to his feet and looked him up and down.

“Right.” He said. “Good to know.”

He held up a stake, Buffy expected Morty to flinch or fight back but he just stood there watching Spike and looking resigned. Spike signed and dropped his hand.

“Go.” He said.

Morty looked like a drowning man offered water. “My—lo—William –I”

“Just go, Bromley.” Spike said with an inscrutable look on his face. “Go to Wherewell house, I don’t give a fuck, just go.”

Morty—Bromley—whoever he was shrunk down and scuttled away. Spike turned on his heel to face Wesley and Buffy daring them to say something about him letting a vampire loose but the look on his face kept them silent.

The lights suddenly came on. They all crouched into attack position but it was Alex who had apparently flipped a switch.

“Not bad.” She said appraisingly looking around the room. It was a moderately large living room and kitchenette divided by a small table. There was a hall way heading off towards the back probably leading to bedrooms. “One bedroom. Not bad at all. Where are you guys all going to sleep?”

There was a sudden clatter that sent everyone back into defense positions but this time it was Raj looking much more stable on his feet than he had a few short minutes ago.

“Bathroom!” he yelled sprinting down the hallway.

Alex rolled her eyes. “Well, if this is where we’re staying I’ll get the bags.”

She disappeared for a few minutes and then she came back with their suitcases.

“It’s a bit small.” Wesley observed. "But It'll do for a few weeks."

There was a sudden flush sound and Raj exited the bathroom.

“Loo works.” He said. “So just there an improvement already from Thora’s party palace garden hose and large plastic tub.”

Buffy glanced down the hallway from whence he came.

“Is there a shower in there? Because I know a slayer that is not using exposed piping anymore! Or that sad little cubicle with the grease smell and no space to turn around.”

“It’s not much bigger.” Raj said keeping a hand on his rumbling belly.

“Fooey!” Buffy said looking put out. “I really don’t know how were all going to squish our way in here.”

“Kitchen is actually a kitchen, with a microwave.” Alex said trying to brighten the mood a little bit.

“Spike?” Wesley had been quiet until then, Buffy realised that he had been watching Spike. Spike who was uncharacteristically quiet. “Spike, was that an old minion?”

Spike nodded absently. He was looking out the window so dazed Wes had to basically slap him to bring him back down to earth.

"Yes." Was all he said.


*****

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce had a feeling he knew where they were going. He had had an inkling since the second they stepped out of the Underground Station.

When Spike had lead them through the streets of Belgravia the feeling only got stronger. It had not escaped his notice that the vampire with whom Spike shared some history was the only regular sized person in a sea of over-large bulky minions. Clearly they were large for a reason, they were thugs, Spike had been upset that the vampire had even made himself minions so Morton or Bromley was someone important from William’s past. He had also noticed the half stammered titles that Spike tried to cut off.

“Spike?”

Raj and the girls were examining the new hideout with interest, but Wesley knew that this could not be their final destination. He had suspected this about Spike from their very first meeting, like knows like. There was a cadence to the vampire's voice, a way of doing things that made his background more and more apparent. The song had been an experiment but the vampire hadn’t shied away from it.

“Spike?” he repeated waving a hand in front of his friend’s face.

“Sorry.” Spike said shaking his head a little and snapping out of his reverie. “Sorry. No. I’m sorry, luv, this isn’t the place we are staying.” He paused as if unsure of himself. But then seemed to steel himself. “This isn’t the place, follow me.”

He made his way back down the stairs back in his daze. Buffy and Alex traded looks. Wesley was the first to go after Spike he gave them a meaningful look.

“God fucking dammit!” Alex said, frustrated. “Someone else is on porter duty.”

Buffy took one and handed Wes the other. Wes felt his arm buckle a bit, the suitcases were far heavier than either the vampire or damphyr made them appear.

“Language,” the slayer said teasingly as she passed the teenager to follow Spike.

Now that the lights were on they saw that there was a door at the bottom of the stairs that ended up leading to a large empty space, a few windows displayed the graying sky. It was a garage, clearly. He lead them to the other side into a door that lead to a courtyard and they gasped. It was lit by the street lights, the back side of one of those stately town houses they had passed earlier.

“Wow.” Buffy said as the pushed open the French doors that apparently lead to a kitchen done completely in white marble and smooth cherry wood. Spike flicked on the light switch. The kitchen was immaculately clean but looked as though it had not been updated in years.

“Not too Downton Shabby.” Alex said with an appraising grin. She looked triumphant until she saw their blank looks and then sighed. “Spoilers.”

Raj grinned a little and Alex shot him an exasperated look.

“This is especially hard for me because you would especially like that 'spoilers' reference.”

"I don't think the word 'spoilers' counts as a reference."

"It's not. It's the way I say it because of the wibbly wobbly- oh nevermind."

Wesley studied the room carefully, it didn’t look like a Victorian kitchen, there were little bits of updated machinery, not all modern appliances. There was no microwave and the kind of stove you used stove black to clean. It looked like bits had been replaced at different times but nothing after 1950 as far as he could tell.

As they went from room to room, it was just as Wesley had expected. Everything looked old but well-kept; like period rooms from museums. All of it was solid old world furniture, chintz and dark wall-paper and here and there an exotic flourish like a japanese screen or an INdian window flourish. He realized a few seconds into the tour that Spike had left their midst. The former watcher could only assume he had gone upstairs.

Spike was in the parlour.

“This place is amazing. Have you seen the paintings? Where did Spike go?”

Buffy had followed him up the stairs. She had opened her mouth to say something but Wes pressed his finger to his lips and inclined his head towards the room behind him.

Spike was sitting on a Louis XVI sofa and so deeply in thought that a bomb could go off right now and he would scarcely notice. He was holding him erect and graceful, and quite uncharacteristic of him despite all the new data that had come to light.

Buffy made to go to him but Wes held her back and shook his head

“Perhaps it would be best if you were to take Alex and go upstairs and see if the bedrooms are as well-kept as the rest of the house?” he suggested. “I think that Spike needs a moment.”

She hesitated, casting another worried glance at Spike. Raj came up behind her and steadied himself on her shoulder. Wes looked at her meaningfully as Raj stumbled over to him instead. Wesley proped him up.

“We’ll be right behind you.”

She nodded and gestured for Alex, who was only climbing up to the ground floor, to follow her to the bedrooms. Alex glanced over at Spike and then between Raj and Buffy. She opened her mouth to ask something, but seemed to think better of it and just quietly followed Buffy up the stairs.

“What do you think is up with him?” Raj whispered, a little bit buzzed but clearly not as sloppy as he had been a little while ago.

“I think Spike knew this place would be safe because no one, not her majesty’s government, not the council have managed to find it in over a hundred years.”

Raj’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…”

Wes nodded.

“I do actually.” He said looking back at the vampire who had become his friend. “Spike’s come home.”


*****


Nothing in the place looked how Buffy pictured a Victorian house to look, but thenher refereces in this case were Pride and Prejudice and the Haunte Mansion at Disney Land, so she wasn't exactly calling her self an expert.

The staircase itself was very pretty, the second floor had what looked like a ballroom complete with parqueted floors. Alex, in a burst of teenager, had sprinted ahead of her to find the best bedroom. Buffy traded a long-suffering look with Raj who had just gotten to the landing.

He grinned. "I don't know how she has the energy to choose. I could just collapse into the first bed I see."

"Ooh, do you think that all the beds will be all historical?"

Alex's head appeared from the staircase above. Both Buffy and Raj groaned to each other and trudged up the stairs.

"All the beds are sans sheets!" Alex called from somewhere above them.

“I think the servants quarter in places like this are usually at the top floor.” Raj said jerking his head up towards the top floor. “I’ll go and see if there are linens and things. Be right back.”

Buffy’s eyes bugged out at the mention of servants.

“Human Spike had servants?” She demaned as Raj headed off ahead of her.

“So you’ve managed to figure out why he’s taken us here I trust?” Wesley's voice came from behind. He hurried to catch up with her.

Buffy opened the door what looked like a grand ball room, now rather musty but generally clean.

“Yeah.” She said. “I got the memo. I sorta saw it coming, I mean upper-crusty Giles accent, Oxford Drinking songs, Add it all together and I basically spells duh.”

“So you see the house but don’t think servants?” Raj piped up from above them. He was coming down now with an arm full of white sheets.

Buffy ignored the friendly jibe and turned to Wes. “He hasn’t moved at all?”

“No.” Wes replied. “We’re clearly safe here for the night, the minions must have been keeping the place habitable for the last hundred years.”

"I've found pillows and blankets and other good things in a linen closet upstairs." Raj said. "I had a friend who lived in one of these growing up. They're surprisingly similar."

"So it looks like, housing-wise we should be good." Wes said.

There was something in his voice that alerted Buffy to the fact that he was not done. She nodded encouraginly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Wes shifted his weight when it was clear Buffy was waiting for him to continue.

“Er, well, So we could conceivably just leave Spike to whatever reverie he requires to er… process being in his human home which could be quite, er, awkward.”

“Awkward?” Buffy demanded.

“Well, Angel, when he was first turned—he” Wes paused. “He killed his entire family. Buffy, we have no idea what Spike has done. We were never able to ascertain his real name. There is very little information on his human life and early years, even in the Watcher's archives. This lack of any concrete facts about himself is probably why he considered this place safe.”

“Uh-huh,”

“And he may need time to process this.”

"Uh, no." Raj said almost cutting Wesley off. "You could go on and on about giving him space and then having tea like good strapping British men but, I think Buffy should talk to him."

Buffy’s eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me? That would be a whole world of no.” she said with as much finality as she could muster.

“Spike is a ranter.” The darker man persuaded. “He needs to be able to talk about it to someone. I’m really not sure why Wes thought it’d be best to leave him to stew in the first place.”

“Not about this he doesn’t.” Buffy said giving Raj a weird look at his reading of Spike. “He’s all guarding his real life with his unlife, you think I'm going to go down there and he's going to want to just share?”

“But surely he’s spoken to you about his past?” Raj pressed.

Buffy had to look away from the two eager watchers. She tried to think of when Spike had ever spoken about his human life and was coming up blank.

"I think I liked you better drunk." She said acidly.

"Never?" Raj pressed.

She violently wanted to punch him, but managed to hold herself back.

“Spike and I talk about slaying and weapons and-and- Dawson’s Creek! We don’t talk about real things and Spike is definitely mum’s the word about human-Spike! Or human William or whatever!" She turned her attention to West. "You two are all chummy and drink-y; I vote you talk to him!”

Wes glanced towards the stairs worriedly.

“Buffy, this is way more personal than—anything we've--it’s his human-side. I mean, I've been able to ascertain certain details, but you’re his—his—his—”

She folded her arms in front of her chest and glared at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence mostly to see what British word he would use instead of baby-mama.

He went in a different direction.

“His family.”

Her defensive posture dissolved.

“I’m his-I don’t know." She said, even though she knew it was true. "Alex is his family.”

Raj and Wes exchanged looks.

“Alex is a girl he met yesterday.”

She knew they were right. She hated that they were right. She and Spike had been through hell and back together, there was no one else who could go and talk to him. It had to be her and she knew it--despite how little she wanted to go down there, Spike had brought her to his home, the place he had kept hidden for a century to keep her and their children safe. She steeled herself, and pushed past Wesley.
Chapter 16 - Spike's Story by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi, Guys, so I know this one was a long time coming but this a very fun very juicy chapter with lots of angst and spuffy fun! Thanks for waiting and I promise the next one will be out way sooner!
Chapter Sixteen – Spike's Story

Every step she took down the stairs towards the sitting room made her insides go colder and colder. Buffy was unsure what was making her go into major wig mode, she had faced so many harrowing situations before she could barely enumerate them all, but for some reason the vampire sitting in the other room was making her feel jumpier than an apocalypse.

She didn’t bother trying to be stealthy as she approached him. He had probably heard the whole conversation they had about him upstairs but that was if he was listening, he didn’t look like he was listening. He was sitting on a Victorian couch-thing silently facing one of the tall windows. Looking like he wished the sun would rise and he could greet it.

That was it, Buffy realized. The quiet was unnerving her. That was why her insides were roiling. Spike was never quiet. He was rarely still. He was always complaining and ranting and putting his foot in his mouth. Even after being kidnapped and tortured by Genesis he wasn’t the poster boy of silent, desolate recuperation. He was constantly pacing and complaining and raving and driving her crazy. Every so often in that little flat in Picadilly, she wanted to be sullen and bad moody and he would be yelling at the mindless television and she very nearly dusted him. When she had stopped listening to him he talked to himself. He did that sometimes too when he thought she couldn’t hear him. Not now, though. He hadn't moved. This was serious. He was just sitting there.

She hovered in the door way, waiting to see if maybe her prescence would move him. No luck. She stood for what felt like an hour. He didn't give.

She took the time to study him, it was rare to find Spike so still, no sneering or chuckling or saying anything nasty. He wasn’t looking at her, buthe knew he was there. Her heart was pounding. There was no way in hell he couldn't hear that.

He looked so different from the vampire she knew in Sunnydale. He dressed no differently; he was still wearing drug store t-shirts and worn black jeans. In so many ways he was still Spike. He still smoked, and drank way too much and said stupid things and yet he was so immeasurably different. She just couldn’t put her finger on why.

Could be the hair, the golden brown thing was weird.

She thought he would be less striking without his signature look, but she was wrong. He was just as handsome. The dark golden-brown actually suited him, it softened the harsh cheek bones. It emphasized his blue eyes, it made him look more real than the brutal bleached blond had, not like a larger than life William the Bloody. If she was honest she wanted him to dye it back so he could be the Spike she remembered from Sunnydale and she didn’t have to think about how much he had changed. How much they had both changed, come to that.

“The watcher sent you.”

It wasn’t a question.

He was staring ahead like a statue, the room was towards the back of the house and the lightening day didn’t look like it was going to touch the vampire. It was a little strange seeing Spike in the daylight albeit indirectly.

“He’s, uh, worried about you.”

He chuckled. It was a hollow sinister sound.

“He’s worried.” He said sucking his teeth. When he looked at her his eyes felt like x-rays. “about what I might do, pet.”

Buffy shook her head about to refute him but something stayed her tongue. Wasn’t she a little bit worried about the same thing? Wasn’t that why she wanted more than anything to run back up to the upper floors? That and his stupid eyes that saw right through her all the time. Spike was ridiculously perceptive; he had always been ridiculously perceptive-guy. He knew she was worried about that also.

Her hesitation didn’t go unnoticed and the muscle in the vampire’s cheek tightened.

“Oxford sent you down here—”

“I know you best, Spike. We’re supposed to be in this together.”

She had acknowledged to Wesley that she was he only one who could speak to Spike but right in front of him she realized suddenly she had no idea what to do or say. After all this time with him, she realized, she didn’t really know what to say to an upset Spike. She was the one who leaned on him, she was the one who made her problems his problems. He would rant and rave but he never really said anything about his past. He let her be the talk-y one when the messy stuff started to come out. And she was good at talking. Not right now though, now she was scrambling for words and it looked like Spike was really just angry enough to explode.

“He sent you down here to keep me from killing down memory lane, slayer.” Spike said pointedly. “Whatever he might have told you, however much he likes to pretend we’re all copacetic, he’s worried about me and my heyday flashbacks so he sent the woman who’s carrying my sprog to remind me of sodding puppies and Christmas. He’s a smart man that Oxford.”

“Look, Spike I’m not sure what you expected—”

“A little speck, a modicum of trust would have been nice!” he roared, suddenly standing. “I’m not an animal!”

“Spike this is your human home and you went all state of Catatonia! You were here while you were human!” she exploded. “We don’t know what happened here or what kind of craziness you got up to as some sort of Vampire initiation whatever! Angel killed his whole family when—”

“STOP COMPARING ME TO HIM!”

Spike moved so fast Buffy would be worried if she still had to consider him a mortal enemy. His face was inches from hers and he had slammed both fists into the wood paneling on either side of her head so hard that it cracked. Buffy didn’t have time enough to flinch.

“Unless you are so addled you are just not listening to me! Sort of coming down on your side!”

“You act all high and mighty and you talk a big talk but you are just fine when I’m protecting you!” Spike snapped back viciously. “And takin’ care of you! But you’re still prepared after all we’ve been through to believe that I’ll bloody slip and eat every person in sight! Even my soddin’ kid!”

“Wesley—”

“Fuck you, Slayer! I didn’t save Wesley from that place. Wesley has known me for days! We’ve had a drink or two, but he’s not--” He snarled. “I’m talking about you! You are the biggest Bitch I’ve ever met and I spent a century with Dru! I dragged us out of hell, Buffy! I am the father of that baby in your belly and you still—and you still—” He pushed off the wall and grabbed what was probably a priceless knickknack and threw it at the wall. It smashed and Buffy did flinch. “Get out, slayer! Just fucking go!”

She very nearly did. She had not wanted to come here in the first place. She knew it was going to bring up all sorts of things. Her life had been on adrenaline mode for weeks. And now they were stopping and suddenly things were coming up. Small issues that were easy to push away when Genesis was on their heels, now they were all coming to head. Some smaller than others: like taking for granted that she and Spike were not mortal enemies but also slightly larger issues like what they were to each other now.

“No.”

He looked so livid that words had utterly failed him. Buffy steeled herself and took a step forward.

“I knew you weren’t going to go on a rampage.” Buffy said firmly. “You didn’t let me finish!” She softened realizing that fighting fire with fire was not going to be a good tactic. “I want to help you.”

“You don’t get to choose, slayer, you don’t get to—” He growled and she wished he had continued shouting. Spike shouting was something she was accustomed to. “You always do this. You prance around like you hung the moon because you save the world. LIke the fact that you believe in me should be enough! That doesn’t move me, slayer. You aren’t in Sunnyhell anymore. I don’t follow the leader. You can’t do anything for me.”

Buffy opened her mouth but as soon as she did a small ornamental stool crashed into the wall six inches from her left ear.

“Don’t you even start or else I’ll rip out your spine the second that sprog wails it’s first. And then I’m going to beat you over your naïve little head!”

“Talk like that is so not helping your case, buddy.” She said crossing her arms and trying to keep her voice level. He was angrier than she had ever seen him. “you are not falling off the deep end but you’re starting to doggy paddle over because you let that minion go and the survival guy-the Spike I know would never let a loose end like that—”

“You don’t know who he is!”

“Well, then get started explaining, Bleach-boy, because I’m what you’ve got.” She said feeling her resolve face slide into place; it occurred to her suddenly that Spike was angry, enraged even, but not at her. The thought felt like solid ground under foot after drowning. This was finally something she could use. “I’m sorry that all you heard was that we were worried about what you might do but we are worried about you too. I want to help you, you idiot! I want to help!”

“You don’t get to want!”

“Yes! Yes, I do!” Buffy said finally snapping. “I am what you’ve got. You did drag us out of hell, you have been taking care of us since, let me do this! I owe you this! Tell me about Who he was Spike, tell me why you’re being all brood boy!”

For some reason this seemed to set him off even more. He went ballistic. He was grabbing flinging everything he could get his hands on, he overturned couches and ottomans. He put his fist through the wall and then snarled in full vamp face and pulled it out.

She had a feeling Spike’s anger was not retaliatory, but something roiling under the surface that he was finally allowed to release which was why he was systematically destroying the room, pulling up artfully curved chair legs and ripping up rugs and throwing them around.

Buffy finally marched over and backhanded him as hard as she could. He crumpled.

“I am the slayer, Spike, and you need me right now so please, tell me what’s wrong!”

He muttered something incoherent.

“Spike?”

“It’s all the same. They didn’t—” he stammered. She expected him to revert back to the Giles accent but his voice was low and gruff. "They didn’t move anything at all! It’s all the bloody same.”

The last word came out as almost a sob.

“Spike?”

“Get out slayer!” he roared. “Just leave me the fuck alone, you meddlin’ bitch!”

She ignored him and approached carefully. When he didn’t move she got down on the floor next to him. He knew she was there, but he said nothing. They sat for a long moment.

She knew he had to speak first. She remembered, suddenly, everything Spike had done for her when they had first settled in the little oily smelling flat after fleeing from Newcastle. She had been practically catatonic and he had forced her kicking and screaming back into real life. It was her turn now, to be the one to bring him back.

“Don’t, slayer.” He said. His voice was quiet again but this time it was pleading not sinister. “Don’t ask me unless you’re ready for the whole story.”

He looked anguished. And she really didn’t want to know. But Raj was right, he probably needed to talk about it and she, Buffy had to hear it no matter how hard it was going to be.

He was studying her now, looking at her carefully. She met his gaze and realized for the first time really that she did want to know what was doing this to him.

“Please let me help.”

Spike paused.

“Right.” He said dangerously. “Slayer to the rescue.”

“Exactly. Just without the dark miserable sarcasm.”

To her infinite surprise Spike chucked.

“Bloody buggerin’ hell!” he growled but this time he sounded more frustrated than enraged. He shoved a hand through his hard which had become a mop of golden brown curls. He always wore his hair severe and slicked back. “I’m broodin’ aren’t I? No better’n bloody peaches!”

Buffy had to physically stop herself from suggesting something along the lines of Spike killing his whole family just like Angel. She knew she had to let him talk.

“He didn’t change anything.” He said quietly. His eyes still focused on the carpet. “A hundred and twenty years and it looks just like the day I left.”

“That minion?”

“Morton Bromley was my family’s butler.”

Buffy arched an eyebrow, it was all she could do not keep herself from grabbing the front of his shirt to shake the information out of him. She knew Spike had been wealthy, the house was gorgeous and was probably worth a lot of money but the thought of servants and butlers was still on the weird side.

She waited for him to continue. And waited. Spike had frozen.

Finally he did speak, it was a low rasp.

“I can’t.” he said. “I can’t”

She tried not to rush him in her impatience. She wanted to shake him. She wanted to make him tell her. She had to know. She needed to know. She could feel her sudden desperation bubble to the surface. She was about to press him, force him to say it.

But he spoke again, she couldn’t see his eyes but the pain was palpable in his voice.

“I can’t make you understand what it was like. It was just us two. She took care of me. I was always her first priority. She had lost everything and I—she was dying.” He stood up unable to stay in one spot, burning with a nervous energy. He paced back and forth, the action actually calmed Buffy. This was the Spike she was accustomed to. “She was dying so slowly, so painfully. There was nothing to be done for her.” He paused, he was staring at a little basket that contained odd little wooden cylinders. It was a sewing kit, Buffy realized, a sewing kit where all the thread and fabric had rotted away. It had sat there for a century last used probably by the ‘she’ he was talking about, his mother. She had thought for a second it was the baby sister Alex was named for, but somehow instinctively she knew it was his mother he was talking about. “There was nothing I could do. Until there was.”

The silence after his proclamation felt like a smothered scream, loud and palpable. Spike was avoiding her eyes and Buffy thought she must be missing something.

“There was wha...” she trailed off as she met Spike’s eyes, bright again and burning with intensity. And she realized what a fledgeling Spike had done to save his mother.

Again before she could even properly form the thought in her mind he had moved. It was so fast she didn’t see it start. He had pressed her against the wall his hands on either side of her head, his face so close to hers it should be uncomfortable, but it wasn’t.

She couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Look at me.”

She really, really didn’t want to but there was something commanding in his voice. The flash of Master Vampire he showed so rarely.

“You asked me to tell you. You wanted to know me.” He bit out. “I’m not Angelus. I’m not going to pretend that was someone else. I wasn’t starving and desperate. I turned my mum. I killed her.”

He wanted a response, she realized, Spike could usually read her like an open book but she didn’t know what she was feeling so he couldn’t read her, and this was what was making him crazy. She realized that Spike had never, not in a hundred and twenty years told anyone about this.

She waited to be disgusted. She waited for repulsion or fear to bubble up inside her. But only one thing occurred to her. All she could think about was a doctor’s visit a million years ago and the brave look on her mother’s face. Something clicked. She remembered what it was like begging Giles for a spell, a miracle, a curse anything to save her mom and she remembered a murderous Spike reading that misery on her face, dropping the gun, and patting her on the back.

Her revelation cost her He had pushed of the wall and started ripping apart the room again. But Buffy crossed the room determinedly and hugged him so awkwardly she may as well have been trying to tackle him because they over balanced and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Slayer what the bleedin’—”

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t think she had to and then his forehead dropped onto her shoulder and she knew she’s been right.



*****



In his un-life Spike had experienced many painful things, he had learned torture at the hands of Angelus and that fucker was a very hands on teacher. Spike had been burned and impaled, beaten and starved, but nothing he had ever felt had been as painful as seeing his mother’s sitting room looking exactly as she had left it, as if she had merely walked out of it about to return.

She would probably faint seeing her shy, sensitive William wrapped in the arms of a woman.

He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, he had not wanted to tell Buffy. He had not wanted to say anything at all. He had thought he could come back, and it would somehow have all gone away. Half of him was surprised he even considered it, but there was a fierce protective instinct growing inside him, and this was the safest place he knew. The trump card he could only play once, the one place in the world no one would track him because he had been keeping in quiet since before all the records Raj and Genesis could ever hack. Everything was hard copy, everything was ready. He just had to be sure that he wanted to pull the trigger. He thought it would be difficult to decide, but all it took was the pitter patter of an unborn heart beat and a pair of questioning, teen-aged eyes that were identical to his. They were his family, the choice was the easiest he had ever made. At least that was in Bohemia. Now, standing in his mother’s favorite spot facing everything he had done was another story all together.

He knew he couldn’t say anything. He knew she would turn away from him in a second, because she was looking for a reason that stupid chit. Looking for a reason to brand him evil and run away. But he couldn’t help himself, holding his tongue was not his strong suit and she had basically begged to know what was wrong. And he had thought he ruined it. This thing with Buffy, whatever it was, it was fragile It had to be dealt with delicately, like creating a sculpture of glass. He had nearly snapped when he saw her eyes widen, the beginnings of disgust on her face. He didn’t even care about all the things he was building with her. Suddenly, he didn’t even think of them. He knew she would turn away from him. And he was so angry with her, so frustrated that he had thought for even a second he could tell her, so angry that she had made him forget, that she had made him trust her and ruin everything.

And then he was drowning in Buffy-scent, he was not particular on the hows and the whys.

He had expected her to her to bolt after he had confessed this, his most wretched crime. But she didn’t and she could feel her arms like steel bands around his middle. He felt himself sag, his body at this point fully autonomous from everything his mind was telling it to do. He felt the tears leak from his eyes, and he didn’t really know how he got there. He didn’t understand what was happening.

He realized he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Buffy to move from the carrot to the stick. But she didn’t. When the tears finally stopped and Spike righted himself. It felt like days had passed.

“Is-“ Buffy’s voice was hesitant—understandably. “Is she still out there somewhere did you-uh did you want to go and—find her?”

Spike let himself lean against the wall. His mouth was dry and he felt someone else say that she was gone with his voice as if he was not the one speaking.

Buffy took her place next to him.

He looked at her with so much anguish that she stopped short and looked so weepy he was sure he would be the one comfort in her in a moment.

“She came back different.” His voice was tight and so rigidly controlled it sounded like he could shatter at any moment. “I couldn’t understand it because I came back relatively unchanged. She—” His voice broke. “and she came onto me like I was not her son. Like—She was not my mum. She was something else, something—and I dusted her.”

The tears started again.

“She was a good woman, my mum. And I ruined her.”

“You didn’t ruin her, Spike.” Buffy said in a small voice.

“Slayer—”

“You didn’t ruin her.” She said slowly but firmly. Spike let her comfort him. “Turning her may not have been the best idea but—no” He just looked at her incredulously and she scrambled for words. Thankfully, she was still holding him in place. “I’m saying this wrong. My mom, I don’t know if I told you this or if you just kinda knew, but she has a something in her head. They said it was a shadow and then they said it’s cancer and she was dying.” She paused. “and if I had the option to turn her into a slayer to maybe save her; I would maybe do it. I might have done it before—I tore apart the magic box looking for a spell to make it better.”

He stopped struggling. It was almost more than he could have hoped for, was she trying to absolve him? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t know if he wanted to be absolved. It felt wrong somehow, as if he should never be so lucky as to have someone tell him it was okay. He had never told anyone one that in a hundred years, he had never even spoken to Dru about it who proceeded as if it had never happened.

Somewhere far away a part of him registered that she was still talking, she was telling him about her mum too but he was too elated, too happy that she was talking to him and not dusting him that he didn’t even register what she was saying. Many things were occurring to Spike at once, first off Buffy knew the worst of him now, in his hundred odd years in the world this was the deed he had always thought was the most unforgivable and she had not turned away. For the very first time since they were at Genesis he was sure, utterly sure she was worried for him. She had come for him. He had been working towards this for months, years really. And here was the first real tangible show on her part.

“Her gallery—and who even knows what that would have been like—”

Spike had known how he felt about her since that night and that stupid dream. He couldn’t deny the attraction, he even made Harmony play along which was less satisfying than he had thought it would be. But he had held his tongue, sure that she would never feel for him anything like that. Sure she was too high on her white horse to ever understand. Spike knew people, he knew Buffy but all that had changed the second he took her hand in that place. And this, her sitting here holding him while he told her this, clinched it for him.

“—and they said glioma. Whatever that means. Like there was something we could have done before but that’s just bull because all she had was a head ache. You had a death sentence and—Spike?”

“Buffy, I—I’d turn your mum if it came down to it.”

It was out of his mouth before he fully realized it.

Fuck. Goddam it. He knew he was going to say something to bollocks it all up. All this shining hope and then he had to go and say that and all the well-meaning drained from Buffy’s face and she looked shocked.

Fuck.

He was suddenly petrified he would get slapped and stalked out of the room, but, miraculously she burst out laughing. He stared at her. “I –you—I can’t believe—I mean—I” She erupted into giggles. “That was the worst thing you could suggest.” She said managing to force the words through her mirth. “and your face when you realized what you said was just—was just—”

“Har, har, I’m so glad you find me amusing.” Spike said he made to get up but Buffy pulled him right back down next to her.

“I was so worried I’d say something—like that—and—and” She finally stopped laughing. “and I managed not to fuck up too badly. I mean the room looks a couple of the more smashie-smash demons were playing around with the forces of darkness—and I should know.”

Spike felt himself starting chuckle as well. Relieved that his stupid mouth hadn’t gotten him in trouble as was its wont.

There were a few more stray giggles but Spike wasn’t paying attention to them. He was staring at her, realizing how close they were. He could see the gold flecks in her green eyes and smell the sweet vanilla that seemed to cling to her, lingering just under any demon blood or cheap floral chemical scent of soviet-era Czech soap.

“Thought I was about done with this place. Always had the back up though, guess I’m glad of it now.”

She met his eyes and quieted also. The last few chuckles trailed off.

“Spike, I--”

This wasn’t the time he knew it wasn’t the right time yet. He knew he shouldn’t lean forward, he knew he was pushing her, pushing them both neither of them had been too comfortable with the touching. And he was only just able to keep himself back.

Which was why it was so surprising when it was she who closed the distance between them.


*****


She knew Spike was a good kisser. As much as she said she had wanted to repress their short lived engagement she remembered every stolen, feverish moment he was kissing her. She had wanted to forget it so badly because it affected her so deeply that it was hard to patch things up with Riley afterwards. Spike had a hundred years of practice, of course he knew how to make all her bones melt. This was nothing like that. He was still and unyielding and very quickly pushed her away.

She would probably mortified if she was sure this was actually happening. She stared, unable to look away from him. This was Spike as she had never seen him before. His eyes were so dark they were almost black and his chest was heaving with unnecessary breath.

Holy crap what did she just do? She wasn’t completely sure. There had been something building between her and Spike, building since those first spellbound kisses last year, electricity that had been crackling and she had just acted on it. Sure that this was the moment to—He wasn’t kissing her he was just looking at her, wide eyed and looking younger than she had ever seen him.

She felt heat flood her cheeks.

“Oh God, I’m sorry I don’t know what just came over me.”

“Buffy—”

She was up and mortified and muttering stupid things about going back up to the bed that was waiting for her when he did that thing where he’s so much faster than she’s used to and he was right in front of her holding her by the shoulders. His eyes were switching back and forth between blue and gold.

“Buffy, please,”

“No, I get it. It was the heat of the moment and I thought—I don’t now. Just forget about it. I’ve been up for 48 hours, Spike, seriously. It didn’t mean anything.”

She felt the change immediately. The silence between them had become in the last few minutes almost comfortable—not fraught with death shroud-y vibes, and in an instant it felt like the air around them turned into a physical presence. She didn’t want to look at him. She really didn’t want to look at him, but she couldn’t help it. There was no sign of the stormy blue.

She knew instinctively she had said something very, very wrong.

He let go of her like she was doused in Holy Water.

All this happened in a split second. Spike was gone, and Buffy who was just an instant before wishing with all of her being that she could take that stupid kiss back suddenly wanted to do it again. She wanted tell him it did mean something even though she wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

“Spike,”

“No, you were right we’ve been up for days we should go upstairs. Rest your pretty little head.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, Spike.”

God, what a Roller Coaster. Now she was reaching for him trying to make him stop.

“I’m sorry. I was stupid because—”

Her whirled around, human visage replaced by the ridges and of his vampiric one, as if forcing her to face everything. This was who he was. And everything she was feeling, it was happening with a vampire.

“Slayer, you have to know. And now is not the time to fuck with me. You asked me why I keep doing things for you. You know why. ” He looked furious. “Don’t play stupid, Buffy, not with me.”

She couldn’t make herself speak. His glare was gold and she had never in her life felt so naked. She thought it would make her squirm but she couldn’t move, she couldn’t even force herself to breathe.

He pushed her into the wall so hard she felt the paneling crack behind her. Rock and the hard place very suddenly made a world of sense to Buffy. Spike was smaller than any of her other boyfriends, but carved out of stone apparently, and he looked every inch the predator he was.

She knew she wanted him, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about actually having him. Spike had kept her safe, taken care of her but this Spike was worlds away from that one, or at least it felt like that, this was Vampire-Spike. He was making her look at him like this and part of her wanted him to have his wicked way with her. She realized belatedly that her feet her off the floor and somehow Spike’s thigh had found its way between her legs. She wanted him to kiss her so badly she thought she was going to take matters into her own hands--and to hell with what happened last time. But he held her in place with his eyes.

There was a part of her that was telling her to slow down. That she was still traumatized and she needed to get that sorted. But that part of her was getting hard to listen to because every tingle at the back of her neck was going off at once and Buffy felt like she was going to explode.

“You know there’s something here. Something between us.” His voice was a low, tight whisper. “And I want you, baby.”

And she wanted him. God, shouldn’t she be more hesitant? Shouldn’t she want him to back off? After everything that had happened shouldn’t she want some time to process and get it together? Not even a little.

Every bit of her wanted to be pressed against him. Her hands which were pinned uselessly at her sides, were clutching the abused panel as hard as she could make them to keep her from touching him.

God, how long had this been building? She had no idea where this sudden attack of lust was coming from. All she knew was that if she took her hands off the panneling, they would be in Spike's hair, clutching him against her.

He rolled his hips, she felt the evidence of what was between them and her mind went blank. She felt her eyes flutter closed. Spike smelled like cigarettes and leather and somewhere under all that, something tart and sweet. She felt his lips very close to her ear.

“And I know you want me. I can smell it, pet.”

“Spike—” Her voice was three octaves higher than it usually was.

“Buffy.” His voice was silky suddenly. It came from him like a purr from his chest. “Patience, pet”

She heard herself whimper as if it was coming from someone else.

“It meant something.” She breathed. “I’m—I don’t know why I—j”

Spike’s smile was the sweetest she had ever seen, there was no sneer behind it, no smirk. It was so incongruous with everything his body was doing, with everything he had made her feel in the last two minutes.

“I’m sorry I said that.” She stammered.

His forehead was resting on her head.

“I know, love.”

“Spike, what are you—”

“You need to ask me, Buffy. I want you, baby, I want you so badly but I can’t. Not unless--”

And something deep inside Buffy had clicked. Genesis had taken her body and used it the way they wanted. She wanted the control back. She wanted her body to do what she wanted it to do; and right now she wanted to feel like she did that day last year when Spike was kissing her and the whole universe melted away.

Her hands were in his hair before she could make them stop.



*****



Spike had been planning his seduction for ages. It had been running around in his mind since he had that dream of her fighting with him’ till they were shagging on the crypt floor. He had thought he would have to be meticulous. He would have to treat her like she was made of glass, but he was forgetting just who he was dealing with. He had never been good at following plans anyway and now, after a morning of bluster and blundering they were snogging in his living room.

Her hands were in his hair and her tongue was driving him wild. He was drunk on her. He was absolutely lost in the sensation of her lips and her body pressed against his and he wanted to pull her closer.

He had thought after everything they had been through this would take longer, they would both be hesitant and tentative and end up with a long evening on a bed somewhere taking the time to be comfortable, to rediscover how much pleasure their bodies could yield. But his slayer smashed right through that plan sure as she was riding his thigh for her all she was worth, grinding her hot little self against him and holding him to her as if anything could make him leave.

He was beyond even trying to gain control of the situation. She was too much for him to handle, she was—he was a loss for words. But he finally managed to wrench his lips from hers to taste the column of her throat, he was unsurprised when her hands held him in place rather than pushed him away.

“Spike,” she moaned and the sound of her saying his name like that very nearly made cut this tryst short.

Her legs were around his waist and his hands were on her breasts and Spike lost himself to the sensation. There was no technique, no use of everything he had learned from every lover he had had before. His mind was too over-loaded with Buffy: her taste in his mouth, her body under his fingertips and hoarse, desperate voice saying over and over again that she meant it and she wanted him and never ever stop. He didn’t know how he thought he was ever going to wait, to be patient, or to use finesse.

This wasn’t like what he had thought, this was brutal and primal and he was not sure how she had managed it but her hands under his clothes now and he had to focus on not loosing it. He needed better leverage, he needed to hold more of her, to feel more of her skin. She was still wrapped around him and he wanted to wrap his arms around her he wanted to hold her and fuck her and feel her come apart on his arms. He wasn’t sure how he managed that but he felt the plaster in the wall yield and he pulled her closer.

“Spike, please,”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured into her hair.

He was frantic, clothing was pushed aside or shredded in an effort to get to her and the wall was not the most conducive place to get everything he wanted. And he was pushing off and stumbling across the room to the couch as her lips and blunt teeth were nipping at his neck, leaving marks that he was sure would be the in the morning.

They collapsed into the couch. Her hands were squeezing him firmly and Spike couldn’t make himself pull them away no matter how close he got. He focused instead on her perfect breasts that moving her had allowed him to attend to. He was licking and nibbling them into perfect little points and Buffy’s hands flew from his cock to his head keeping him in place.

She was being so loud now that he was sure they were putting on a show, but he didn't care and--it seemed--neither did she.

“Now, Spike!”

Bossy Buffy was back. Spike smirked as he reached down to check.

“So wet for me, love.”

“Yes!”

Relieved she could need no preparation he slid inside her, no preamble or warning and She screamed into his shoulder.

He was lost in sensation, he couldn’t keep words straight in his head. All he could think about was her and what she was making him feel and her voice whispering incoherent encouragement in his ear and her hips moving in time with his.

He felt, rather than heard the couch give way underneath him, the angle they fell pushed him further inside her. She cried out and then she was coming so powerfully that he could barely keep himself together. She instinctively clamped down on his neck to in an effort to keep her scream stifled and managed hit just a little of his turning bite mark, He felt his eyes roll up in his head and he came so hard he couldn’t even form a scream of fulfillment. He collapsed boneless on top of her.

He could have laid there for all eternity. She stirred after a few moments and he opened one blue eye to see her settle herself more comfortably on the ruined couch and pulled something that felt like his duster over the two of them. Her hands were playing softly with his hair as he drifted off to sleep.







***


Author's note:

because usually I wouldn't let them get anywhere near this quickly but these two would not be kept apart. Every time I tried it felt forced and strange so I had to go with their wishes and now we have some after to play with. The next few should be up soon!
End Notes:
See? Spuffy fun? Please tell me what you think because usually I wouldn't let them get anywhere near this quickly but these two would not be kept apart. Every time I tried it felt forced and strange so I had to go with their wishes and now we have some after to play with. The next few should be up soon!
Chapter 17 - The Watcher's Son by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi all,

I know I promised this sooner and mea culpa but I wanted this to be good and not quick.
Chapter Seventeen – The Watcher’s Son

It had been a particularly good table session and like all the best sessions, no one noticed any time passing. They started in the afternoon and suddenly it was midnight. Raj was just packing up his things, bidding good night to his fellows. It had started to rain sometime in the night and now it was coming down in sheets.

“Glad I don’t have to go out in that,” Their dungeon master, a chubby Danish nurse named Bettina said as lightning flashed outside.

“Do all of you have a way home safely? You are free to stay here if you need to.”

“Where?” asked Carys Jones an administrator who worked with Bettina. She spread her arms and very nearly knocked over a lamp. Bettina’s apartment looked like an IKEA sample apartment. The Kitchen, living room hybird barely had enough space to hold the table.

“The couch pulls out.” Bettina said defensively.

All of then chuckled. The couch was under Bettina’s raised twin bed.

“Of course it does, Betts.” Carys said with a grin. “Of course it does,”

Raj laughed along with them. Bettina loved living in the tiny space, She was explaining the whole Danish concept of hygge to them but Raj had never understood it. A few hours a week at Betts’ was lovely but anything more than that he was sure he would start to get claustrophobic.

“Are you going back to the hospital, Bettina?” Asked Nigel Brooks, he was a friend of Raj’s from Oxford. He was now studying at the Royal College of medicine with a few others in the crew.

“No, I just finished a double shift.” Bettina said.

“Right, well next week then.” Nigel said he nodded at Raj and headed out. A few of the others left with him.

“Are you not going back to campus, Simoe?” Bettina asked.

Simon Zhang looked uncomfortable. “Actually, I need to head back home. Not looking forward to the hike to The Station.”

“My car is parked a nearby, I can take you to as far as St. Pancras.” Raj offered.

“Ta, mate.”

“Take this.” Bettina said handing Simon a tartan umbrella with a long, polished handle. “See you two next week!”

Raj and Simon thanked her and ducked out of the house and into a wall of water. They hurried off down the road feeling like a swimming pool was being dumped on their heads.

“The next block over!” Raj yelled over the sound of water. He was about to point when someone slammed into him. It felt like mroe than someone, like he h ran full tilt into a wall or a freight train. Raj tasted blood as he picked himself off the pavement.

“Simon?”

There were signs of a scuffle. There was a large snarling man with wild hair clearly going for the neck.

Raj froze. A vampire. The very first that he had ever seen in the flesh. Hecould see the ridge-line that was the best way to identify a vamp. There was also more snarling than he expected, the creature looked more animalistic than he had expected it to be.

“Raj, there is something wrong with this bloke!” Simon's voice was high and panicked.

The vampire didn’t seem to have noticed that Raj was even there. He shook himself out out of his clinical observation and grabbed his bag, heavy with D&D books and papers and his special metal die and swung it in the creature’s face. The momentary daze it caused was enough for Simon to knee it in the balls and shove it off of him. While the vampire writhed on the floor Simon brought a closed umbrella down on its solar plexus.

“Simon! Run!”

With no concern for the rain now, both men tore down the streets, they could hear it coming after them. Simon was a pretty athletic bloke and he was sprinting down the street but Raj was distractedly rummaging in his bag for the flask he knew he had packed this morning despite thinking it was a useless precaution.

“Raj, what the bloody hell are you doing?”

The vampire had apparently caught up with them but Raj triumphantly pulled out a large metallic flask full of holy water. He wrenched off the top and threw the contents in the vamp’s face. It sizzled and burned the creature cried out and covered it's face with its hand as if it had been burned by acid.

“What the bloody hell are we—you—”

“Run, Simon!!”

“Which one is your car?”

“Sod that! There’s a pub on the corner!”

The last few steps seemed longer than the whole flight before it. Raj tried his best to keep up and once they were in the pub, they sagged against the wall breathing heavily. The burst of laughter and jeering at some sort of football game, all of this was so removed from the flight from the vamp that it took them a second to adjust. Raj was very glad that Simon had the good sense not to start shouting. He was staring at Raj with a quizzical expression and Raj was worried he may start if no explnation was forth coming.

Raj gestured to the booths and headed to the bar. A few second later he slid into the seat across Simon with two pints.

“You’re going to need this.” He said pushing one in front Simon.

Simon ignored the beer.

“Prasad, what the bloody fucking hell was that?” he hissed.

He looked angry as hell. But then, at least he wasn't yelling the conversation to everyone at the bar. Raj supposed that maybe it was because he was worried he would sound mad. Raj supposed anything about his world would seem mad if you didn't have the time to get used to it.

With a sigh, he decided there was no beating around the bush. “That was a vampire.”

Simon stared at him for a long time. And then, he took a long gulp of the beer in front of him.

“A vampire with the teeth and blood lust?”

“Yes.”

“We were attacked by a vampire.”

“You’re taking this awfully well.”

“I’m wondering who at the hospital put you up to this.” Simon said calmly.

“I’m not fucking with you.” Raj assured him. “It was a vampire, a blood sucker, a denizen of the night. Vampires are real and most other things that go bump in the night are real.” Raj said taking a sip of his own beer. “are you allright?”

“Not really, I was just attacked by a vampire.” Simon said with a chuckle.

“You are bleeding.”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, noticed that, actually. He seemed to miss the jugular.”

“Not for lack of trying.” Raj said shaking his head. "We lucked out, he must have been a fledgeling."

“I’m bleeding and your first thought is what level of vampire that bloke was?”

“Should I ask for a plaster for you or something?"

“I’m applying pressure, it’s not gushing so I’m not too terribly worried about it. Should I be worried about rabies?” he looked stricken as something else occurred to him. “Bugger, I’m not going to become a vampire am I?”

Raj nearly choked on his drink but then put down the glass. “To make a vampire, you need to drink his blood too.”

“Damn. I reckon I’d make a good le Stat.”

Raj studied him for a moment. Simon was shaken, a little confused and he was holding a little serviette to the wound on his neck but otherwise he looked like the implications were not permeating his thick scientist’s skull.

“I don't think you understand. Vampires are a very real danger.” Raj said seriously.

Simon nodded. “Don’t have to tell me twice I was just his bloody chew toy. You were there.”

“I know, I just...” Simon was looking at him suspiciously like he was doubting Raj’s assurances that he was not on orders from the hospital to give Simon a hard time. “I had thought this would be more difficult than this. Explaining about the supernatural world and all that”

“I work shifts at the ER some days, mate.” Simon said with a shrug. “This explains a lot about those patients who come in with ‘neck trauma.’”

Raj grinned. It actually felt good to tell someone about this. “I suppose that makes sense. I did always wonder about that”

They drank in silence for a little while.

“How did you know about this?” Simon asked.

“I—actually my family is part of a council that fights them—the vampires, the demons and forces of darkness.”

That seemed to finally get to Simon. “Wait—seriously?”

Raj grinned proudly.

“Well, then what the bloody hell are you doing playing dungeons and dragons?” Simon demanded. “If my family fought mystical forces I wouldn’t need to pretend to be an elf to get my rocks off.”

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Raj said.

But Simon’s adrenaline was clearly already pumping. It looked like it had dawned on him just how close to death he had come.

“My umbrella has a wooden handle, you reckon we could’ve staked it?”

“Probably not.” Raj said. “vampires are stronger than humans.”

“Really? How many of them have you put down?”

“Well, it’s not just my family, and I don’t actually fight. I more aid in a data entry capacity.” Raj said chagrinned. “This was the first vampire I’ve ever fought.”



*****


Devraj Prasad woke up in the grip of a massive hangover, the likes of which he had not seen since freshers week. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry and fuzzy. He was also lying in a room he didn’t recognize. His brain was working very sluggishly but he managed to piece together the events of the night before. He had gone on a fool's errand. He had been fully prepared to dietrying to find out what had happened to his father and what thiscraziness was about and after the fruitless planning and the cryptic leads, after risking his life, after all of it, they were back in England. He was less than a mile from where this had all started.

Raj threw back the sheets and rubbed his face. He had never really been able to grow much of a beard, but it felt like the stubble he did get had grown on scraggly. He needed a shave and some chips.

Thinking about chips was a bad idea. Suddenly, all the foods he needed suddenly paraded across his eyelids, but he was in Belgravia an a hundred year old house that had seen no one but vamps since 1880. So, that was going to have to wait.

Except that he really wanted chips.

He pushed that thought from his mind, and forced himself to swing his feet to the ground. He expected it to be freezing, but it was surprisingly warm in the house. His phone’s display told him the reason there was no sunlight bearing down on him was that it was early in the evening. He had been asleep at least 12 hours which was why he felt like someone had shoved sawdust in his brain and flubber down his throat—or maybe the other way around. There was a bottle on the nightstand. It looked suspiciously like the bottle of champagne he had been drinking the night before. It had a sign on it that said “drink me.”

Accustomed to his own weird ability to foresee his own hangover, Raj picked it up and took a long swig. It was as he suspected, water, and it tasted fucking fantastic.

He had no idea who this room belonged to but it, like the rest of the house, was a very strange mishmash of modern and Victorian. The old fashioned scones had modern bulbs in them like some sort of Victorian fun factory. Perhaps that was why it was warm, whoever was in charge of the place saw about central heating.

In the corner of the room was a washbasin stand, Raj fervently hoped whoever had seen to the rest of the upgrades they had at least thought of bathrooms. Of course he would settle for anything cool and soothing on his face. Deciding not to take his chances on the bathroom, Raj poured the rest of the champagne bottle’s contents into the basin and splashed it onto his face.

Feeling almost like a regular human being he pulled on his shirt and trousers and headed downstairs.

The house, though posh, was very strange. He knew that it probably cost a fortune now, the carpeting and the fixtures all looked like the kind of thing people paid an enormous amount to duplicate. The over all effect though was too crowded for Raj who oddly, felt a pang of homesickness for his own home on Blenheim road.

He ran his hands over a switch, all the modern things about the place looks out of place like a careless set designer had forgotten to dot the I’s and cross the t’s—forgetting to black out power sockets and light switches.

As Raj padded down the stairs he was careful to listen for anyone else, but everyone else was still asleep, he didn’t hear Spike and Buffy fighting anymore either. He wondered what his plan was if he was the only one awake.

Always a follower. A mean little voice said in his head, a little voice that sounded like his father telling him he never pushed himself. He shoved it to the back of his mind, he was not that person anymore. Now, he was in the thick of it. He was fighting with the slayer and Wesley and William the fucking bloody. Raj ran a hand distractedly through his hair. William the fucking bloody had protected him and knew his name. A vamp he had only ever read about.

In his distraction he had made it to the ground floor, he hesitated, listening again for any stirrings in the parlour where Spike and Buffy had been remodeling the night before. Satisfied that they were no longer there, Raj turned the corner and stopped short. The room looked like a warzone, which, he supposed, in a way it was. Everything was in shambles and Spike was laying on the edge of a ruined ottoman covered in his duster. Buffy was no where to be seen. Raj made a mental note to check Spike for splinters later and continued to the kitchen.

The light was on and Buffy was sitting wrapped in one of the blankets they had taken from the airplane. She was holding a bone china cup in her hands but not really drinking from it. Instead, she was watching something happening outside through the French doors that lead to a court yard. After a moment he realised that it was snowing.

“Morning.”

Buffy started and then looked around. She relaxed when she saw who it was.

“It’s morning already? Where was I?”

“No. sorry.” Raj said. “figurative morning.”

She looked relieved.

“Is there anything to eat?”

She nodded. “Actually yeah, there are some cookies and stuff. I guess the cleaning committee has a sweet tooth.” she gestured to the cabinets all of which were painted a smart white and had tiny black iron handles. “There’re beers in the fridge too if you’re looking for some hair of the dog.”

Even the thought of more alcohol made Raj queasy.

“I think it’s safe to say no bloody way.” He said.

Buffy grinned. “Yeah, I’m sorry there’s nothing stronger in a pharmaceutical sort of way but you’ve got your fill of blood in the fridge and for some reason milk.” she looked genuinely puzzled about the milk. “Do you think maybe they were worried about their fangs?”

When he didn't reply, she pointed at her teeth. Milk. Calcium. Fangs. He had never really given thought as to how vampires absorbed nutrition. But that was a question for when no one was tap dancing in his head. He knew why they had milk.

“Americans.” He said derisively. “The milk is for the tea.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose, but held out her cup in a gesture towards an old fashioned kettle sitting on the range.

“I made hot water for tea. Help yourself.”

Raj saw about making a proper cup of tea. The first sip reinforced what the water in the champagne bottle started and Raj felt the hangover properly start to fade. Some food would be rather perfect. He started rummaging through the cupboards for a gift from McVities. He took another quick sip of his tea and got an actual look at the cup he was holding, even his unpracticed eye could tell from the delicacy of the bone china that this was an exquisite piece and just like that the enormity of what had just happened to him, of everything that was going on really hit him. This was William the Bloody’s house. This was William the Bloody’s China. Raj nearly dropped the cup.

“Raj?” Buffy’s voice was worried.

“I’m alright.” He lied. He put the tea cup on the table where it rattled a little. “It’s nothing.”

“Slayed by a really bad hangover.” She said with a wry smile. “Watcher’s gone wild.”

“Sorry?”

“Watcher’s gone wild?”

“I’m not a watcher, Buffy.” He said. “I work for the council but I’m not a watcher. I’m a data entry clerk. I sit at a desk all day and digitize reports that watchers make—or lobby for the privilege—because none of them exactly trust digital files.” He shook his head bitterly. “I’m no where near being the rank of watcher. I never really thought I wanted to be a part of it--you know? I never really wanted to go on crazy adventures. I fought a vampire once and I basically pissed myself. I didn’t think that I could ever handle anything close to what we just—I wanted it when it was a story. When it was not even close to being real and-- and all that ended when I saw my father dead on the kitchen floor. And suddenly I have this mission and I’m being shot at and sprinting, sprinting! for trains! I’m infiltrating secret organizations and working with Buffy the Vampire Slayer and William the fucking Bloody!” He felt himself start to get slightly hysterical as he said it out loud. He quickly put his teacup down on the counter. “Oh my fucking God, I’m working with William the Bloody.” He dropped his face into his hands.” I thought I was going to die. I thought for sure I was going to die.” He raised his head and saw Buffy as if for the first time. “and now I’m a mile from my bloody house!”

Buffy stared at him spooked and wild-eyed and very clearly not expecting that outburst.

“I was more talking about the drinking and the purloined fur coat.” she said.

“Oh.” Raj said deflating after his outburst. He took a long drink of his tea, draining the little cup. “Sorry. I suppose I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Buffy shook her head and touched Raj’s hand, it was friendly gesture that Raj was not used to.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m giving off confide-y vibes. Just getting’ all sorts of insight into the mysteries of the male psyche.”

Raj studied his shoes missed completely Buffy’s sudden embarrassed gulp of her own tea.

“I was just sort of resigned to the fact that I was going to die.” He said with a sigh. “and now I’m back and I’m not really sure how to go about it. Going after the Package was sort of a suicide mission.”

“Yeah well, I’ve had plenty of practice with those--and I'm still kicking.” Buffy said seriously. “It's of the good that you’re home though. I’d want to be.”

“You have a mom and sister waiting for you there.” Raj countered with a little more hostility then he meant to. “I don’t. I have Jadwiga. I suppose she counts. She’s been working for us since I was ten.”

“Wow, Keep all this angst bottled, British boy, and that stiff upper lip is going to cramp up.”

“It does makes sense to go back.” Raj said blushing again at the sudden anxiety he couldn’t help. “I’m sure they’re observing me and I’m going to have to emerge eventually. The last week without any movement was pushing it.”

“Do you know how to sneak in and out?”

Raj arched an eyebrow at her. “just how much of a knob do you think I am?”

“Sorry, a knob?” Buffy asked with a grin clearly she had expected him to be at a loss to get passed the Project’s surveillance. Raj, however, sent her a look so wounded she giggled a little. “Hey in my defense, I don’t actually think you’re all dweeb. I used my super-secret sneaky way to get out of the house mainly to go patrolling. Y’know, Sacred duty and all.”

“I was mostly sneaking out to find more bandwidth.”

Buffy cringed.

“Shoulda just let yourself be a badass.” She said. “More tea?”

Raj smirked and nodded.

“I can be a bad ass in your eyes after my girlsh shrieking?”

“Your stylish and silent shoe choice has garnered my respect.” She got up and fixed hem both another cup of tea wrinkling her nose a little while pouring out the milk muttering about wanting zesty over dairy. Raj accepted his gratefully.

“I don’t know how you do it, Buffy.” Raj said seriously. “All that adrenaline and danger. I thought I was up for it, but I don’t think I was prepared.”

“Lucky ol’ me, I get to be the chosen.” Buffy said with a sigh. “And not so much the chooser.”

They sat in companionable silence for a little while, watching the snow fall softly into the courtyard. Raj thought about Buffy as the chosen one, he had heard that term and her name so many times, but he had thought that the actual girl would be different. He thought she’d have more gravitas, perhaps she would ooze quiet power. He watched as she pouted at her empty cup and watched her debate leaving the warm cocoon of her blanket to fill it.

“I’ve read about you, you know? You and Spike.”

To his surprise every inch of Buffy suddenly went taut.

“What about me and Spike?” she demanded.

“I’ve read about you?” Raj repeated uncertainly, wondering suddenly what had spooked her.

“Oh.” Buffy sat back down and hid behind her tea cup. “All glowing references I’m sure?”

“Not as bad as you think.” He replied studying the slayer carefully. He had seemed to hit some sort of nerve. He decided to try and distract her. “Was your mayor really a giant snake?”

“Yeah, of the pure demon variety.” She said shaking her head as if to shake off a bad memory. She looked a lot more at ease talking about slaying. “Apparently there’s demon and there’s demon.”

“That must have been fun.”

“Sure if you like arranging your school friends into a makeshift army to fight against your keynote speaker who had a hundred years to practice his speech.”

“Was it any good?”

Buffy shrugged. “Well, he ate the principal so that was Buffy approved. And also I live to tell the tale so I guess dying the first time was a definite learning experience and hey! No more HIgh school.”

Raj felt the reply on his lips and it was frothy and witty and gone in an instant replaced by his only firsthand account of death. His father's. Buffy seemed to readhis face and looked horrified.

“Oh God, Raj! I’m so sorry! You were just talking about that and I made a stupid joke and I don’t know why people are telling me things. I’m not good at the whole meaningfully saying things back part!”

Raj smiled at her ruefully and drained his tea.

“The listening face helps though.” He said. He glanced at the clock and steeled himself. “I should head out. Cover of darkness and all that.”

“Do you want me to come? I can be supportive stealthy Buffy.”

“Nice as that would be,” Raj said. “We shouldn’t risk them recapturing you just because I’m a little shaky.” He paused and decided on a small experiment. “Spike would have my balls.”

Buffy tightened a little at the mention of his name.

“Do you know if my regular coat is anywhere? I reckon that blond monstrosity upstairs might be the fur you were talking about.”

“Alex put them in the entrance place.” Buffy replied relaxing when it looked like Spike wasn’t going to factor any more in the conversation. “are you sure you can go alone? You could wait a little and bring Wes along.”

“Seriously.” Raj said. “You can face a giant headmaster eating snake demon. I reckon I can walk back to my house without much incident.”

“Well, not now that you’ve jinxed it.” Buffy said with a grin. "Give my best to Jadwiga."


*****


The closer he got to the house he grew up in the more Raj was convinced that this was a mistake. The last thing in the world he wanted was to walk back into the house and have all the memories of his father dead in the middle of a pool of blood. One thing was for sure, he was never eating in that kitchen again. He was going to turn around and head back but before he was really aware of it he was facing the back door to the house, unsure of how he had really gotten there.

He went in he sent off quick text to Yuki to sign off.

The house was still and silent, but that was nothing new, Raj had always been on his computer and Ravi sometimes wore headphones when he read, the house was often quiet.

It looked nothing like a watcher’s house should look like. There were no mystical artifacts used as paper weights or mysterious masks on the walls. There was no clutter at all. It was artfully bare, all modern Scandinavian furniture and what his mum had called “clean lines.”

His mum had loved open spaces and clean lines. And when she was first diagnosed, his father had stopped refusing her anything. She had changed everything in the house so it looked so chic and modern it was almost absurd that Ravi and Raj lived there now. She had even remodeled Ravi’s library so it was all floating shelves and an abstract aluminium desk that she always called “an exquisite piece.”

Raj was 13 when she died.

The day she left for the hospital the house froze. From when Raj was a little boy she had tired easily with the furniture layout and she was constantly rearranging things. Raj was accustomed to coming home to find rooms changed and sofas were reupholstered.

It was a week after she died, Raj had gone to school in the morning and seen a large truck pull up with a fancy Danish chair that she had ordered for his dad’s birthday. And when he returned at the end of the school day, Raj found it sitting in the foyer where the delivery men had left it looking very out of place in his mother’s meticulously designed home.

He had not realized until that moment that he had been excited to come home to see where it would go.

It sat, untouched, in the foyer for the better part of a year.

Raj had come to equate death with that chair standing in the entrance, he and his dad moving around it, neither acknowledging that it was still there and why. As if not mentioning it would somehow negate the face that she wasn’t there to put the chair in its place. Maybe if they didn’t say anything the other might not realize that she was gone.

Raj avoided the kitchen, He didn’t think he could handle the ruined kitchen that was the scene of his father's murder.

Yuki had signed off WoW and sent him a dissapointed text since she had been in the middle of something important. Raj ignored it. He put on a large red coat to go out and conspicuously shop for supplies. He returned a few minutes later with a truly absurd amount of Ramen and pinged Yuki to sign back on.

His feet automatically took him to the kitchen to put the food away. He realized the significance of it just as he opened the refrigerator and realized that the kitchen was pristine. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, a pool of blood or a stale crime scene, left over police tape maybe? Perhaps a hastily thrown away box of donuts? He had expected the house to have frozen like it had frozen years ago.

Jadwiga had always been something of an over achiever. The only miniscule evidence that anything had happened was a small note she had left offering her sincerest apologies and a Tupperware full of dumplings in the fridge.

He had come in here the day after Christmas to see his father lying in a pool of blood form a gunshot wound that caught an artery. He was dead in minutes. Raj had called the police and had been told, later that it was a burglary gone wrong, a few expensive pieces of art and the TV had been taken as well. Someone, it seems had replaced them. Someone had eradicated all evidence that Ravi Prasad was murdered in this room. The house felt cold and uninhabited suddenly. It felt like a place that was just for show, it hadn’t been lived in in a while. It had been washed clean of all evidence that anything had happened there.

Raj found himself sitting at his kitchen table. He put his head down into his hands and, for the first time since it happened, Raj wept.
Chapter 18 - All Is Better In the Morning by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi! I'm so sorry that this took so long but this was important and I wanted to get something good. So Merry Christmas everyone! and I'm almost done with the next stuff so don't you worry--more will actually beup soon.
Chapter Eighteen – All is Better in the Morning

It was snowing out, not heavily, just enough to be pretty. The kind of snow you saw in post cards or on movies sets. Buffy wasn’t sure how long she sat watching it after Raj had gone. There was something about snow that quieted everything else, even indoors, it shut everything out, all the clamor and clutter of life just sort of fell away.

In the lamp light the snow looked like falling glitter.

So very pretty.

It was so much easier to just sit and watch the world be covered in the pretty, pretty blanket. Just watch this and let everything else fall away. But Buffy was never that lucky. Even now her mind kept trying to break out of the serene contentment of just watching to bring Buffy back to the world of noise of everything she needed to figure out.

Shut up, real world. There is snow happening.

Ever the California girl, Buffy associated snow with Christmas. So it was weird to her that it was snowing in almost-February. Somehow, it felt wrong that it was snowing after the holidays. Something was wrong with the weather, and she had missed Christmas.

She had missed Christmas.

She had been in that place for Christmas.

Christmas when her mom would make a fire despite the perfect Southern California weather. And Dawn would insist presents could happen as soon as it was technically Christmas so she would try and stay up until midnight.

Buffy pushed those thoughts away. She has missed it. It was done. There was nothing she could do about it. Thinking about it only made herangry about what she was forced to miss.

Instead, she wondered how long the snow would stay pretty in the morning.

These days she rarely allowed herself to think about Sunnydale. She had been trying to keep herself busy so as not to make herself homesick. It was hard sometimes because Wesley reminded her of all things Sunnydale, even though it had been years since he left. But everytime her brain made her want to reminisce, she forced herself back to the task at hand, back to where she was now. Wesley had told her that everyone back home was safe for now, and she had to be here. She may not love the arrangement, but she was keeping away. And that meant they were safe. And she needed to keep her family safe, the Sunnydale family and—she hesitated even in her mind—this new one.

She pressed a hand on her tummy.

Family. That’s how Wesley described her and Spike. She supposed that was true, in many senses of the word.

She was going to have a baby. She was going to have a baby with a vampire, but somehow that was less horrifying that the fact that she was going to have a baby. The enormity of it had registered a while ago but Buffy had pushed it aside, just like she did everything thing else while they were evading capture, when other things were more important in the meantime like keeping Spike alive and figuring out how to get Alex across international borders.

Well, now the meantime was over and she was going to have to face it.

So here she was, sitting in an old Victorian house trying not to think of how much she wanted to hit up the 101 and find herself passing Espresso Pump on Main Street. The longing was ignored to the best of Buffy’s ability but it still made watching Raj fret and rant and rave and then head back to his home oddly cathartic. He had just walked right back to that house that had been his before his whole world was torn apart. If he could go home again, maybe someday she could.

She took a sip of her tea and grimaced, it had gone cold and bitter. She set it down on the table, she wasn’t sure what she was doing sitting here, But she had needed a little bit of physical space between her and the ruins of the living room. She needed to be away from there to figure all this out.

She had slept with Spike.

She had slept with him. Him being Spike. Not that in any universe last night could have been called sleeping. Last night was sex. last night was crazy, ridiculous, acrobatic super sex. And she needed to work out how she felt about that because she really, really wanted to do that again.

She had thought that reminiscing about Sunnydale no matter how briefly and thinking of her mom and Dawn would snap some sense into her, but it didn’t seem to be working.

She had thought that it would make her feel like she had done the wrong thing and guilt would show up to show her the way. It would come and make her feel bad about what she did. But sexing up Spike was still in the good column in her head and she had to convinve herself to sit and stay and not jump his vampire bones and ruin a library or a solarium or something.

She knew intellectually that she should think sex with Spike was bad, but she was having trouble convincing herself the reality of that when her headspace was all angular cheek bones and soft lips and whispered word of encouragement and seeing Spike come apart in front of her.

It felt good, and nothing had felt good in such a long time.

She had thought that after that place she would never feel good again, but kicking the shit out of her goons and storming their damn facility felt good; and fighting with Spike beside her felt good; and fucking his brains out after felt really, really good.

We’re not mortal enemies anymore.

Was it only two days ago he was prone on the floor bleeding out of his ears and she was begging him with all she was to come back to her? She hadn’t hesitated to cut herself open, offering her blood despite knowing he was starved and injured and could have easily drained her dry—but then, this wasn’t the first time she had been in prone position around him. He had had lots of chances to bag his third slayer.

Even the thought of Spike as an evil vampire didn’t seem to be dissuading her as she thought it would. Focusing on Spike’s past only served to remind her that Spike was a warrior, a fighter who had, on more than one occasion, saved the world.

Was she trying to talk herself out of a good thing because of a set of rules that didn’t seem to matter anymore? Or was she an addict who had a really, ridiculously good hit and would say anything even in her own mind to justify it?

Describing Spike like he was a drug made her feel guilty. All he had done in the last few weeks had been to keep her alive and safe. He had brought her and Alex back to the most painful part of his past because it was buried so deep no one would ever find it. There was only one reason he’d do those things, Buffy had seen it before, she had seen him give up everything he held dear for someone else, but even sitting alone in a room she couldn’t couldn’t give those words shape, not even in her mind. Neither of them was ready for that—he had almost said it before in Prague when he was looking at her like they were the only people in the whole world.

Wasn’t she ready to remove the one thing in the world that supposedly kept him from being a homicidal maniac? That chip that someone else had put inside his head. It was punishing him for even thinking of hurting a human. He had managed to get himself out of there and yet there was the reminder when he did anything to harm a human even if that human wanted to capture, experiment on, and rape his daughter.

She shook that thought from her head physically. She hadn’t realized until now what that chip must be doing to him. She cringed at the version her that had made fun of him for it a year ago. She understood it now. She knew what it felt like to be doing your own thing and then suddenly wake up in a sterile room with experiments being done to your body while you were powerless to stop them. She was disgusted at herself for ever treating him with anything but respect for not curling up into a little ball of misery and desolation after an episode like that. She had basically done that. The anger didn’t come until much later.

That chip needed to come out.

Could she be with him if he could kill again? Even in her head that seemed like a stupid question. He could always kill, he just couldn’t hurt. He had come after her with a shotgun once, it may have even been painless, but he had put it down and sat with her instead. Because she was sitting there so worried about her mom, and something must have told him that because she knew now he understood that better than anyone else.

Maybe she couldn’t say the words yet even in her head, maybe she wasn’t sure if she was right about them, but being with Spike felt good and someone unfathomable up there seemed to agree with her, since bizarre-o-world Buffy, the Buffy that had borne Alex, made him her champion. She had named her child after a person who had meant something to him.

It wasn't really a choice.

And once she made the decision it felt like she had jettisoned about a hundred and fifty pounds.

She stood and marched up the stairs. She thought she’d be nervous, but didn't. She felt better with every step. Usually she was shy about this kind of thing or indecisive, turning it over and over in her head but for once she it was all quiet.

Which meant that the only problem was that Spike was nowhere to be seen.

The panic hit her like a wall.

God she was an idiot, she was all sure this was the right thing to do, what if he hadn’t. What if she confronted him and he pulled the “slow down Buffy” card. Her confidence drained a little. She had been under the operating presumption that he would just go with it, be ready and waiting for her.

Shit.



*****



When Spike woke, she was gone.

He tried and failed not to be disappointed. He had known that this was going to happen, it was the last thought he managed to keep in his head before she burned it away with her lips on his. But he knew the slayer, and he would bet anything that she was off saddlin’ up her high horse about now.

He supposed at the very least she didn’t stake him in his sleep.

He needed a cigarette.

They had made good work of the room, there wasn’t a piece of unbroken furniture or surface that could have held her weight that they hadn’t used last night. He wondered idly, if he should feel some sense of loss. I was a room he could never re-create again. But then that had never been his style. The room could be remade, probably better. They could probably make a new room of it, knock down the wall to his father's study make a centralized base, maybe even put demon-like books in there. That was if the slayer was still even around and she didn’t just up and take the sprog and the minion with her.

The thought was a little too depressing to entertain. Spike busied himself with looking for his cigarettes and found the remnants of his trousers and the pieces of his shirt a few feet away. He pulled on the jeans, they were ripped but serviceable with the belt. His duster had, of course, made it through the carnage, even as drunk on slayer as he was he would have the presence of mind not to ruin that. He pulled a battered pack of smokes from it and lit one up.

The first cigarette was quickly followed by another.

Spike stretched. There were muscles under muscles that were sore, but thankfully the slayer blood had worked wonders on anything else that needed knitting together because last night may have stretched out those stitches.

He could use a bed, he decided. He headed out of the ruined parlour and padded up the stairs.

He had been distracted before, by memories, and then by Buffy, so it had failed to register just how odd it was to be back in this place again. He remembered the day they came to this house and he had found it stifling and too cramped and too dark. He had never really loved it. It had eventually become home because it had to. Because those things mattered to him back then . He was another person now, a different creature all together but he felt instantly transported back to who he was, worried about his mother, devastated over the death of Alexis. He turned at the second floor, automatically heading for the room that had been his.

But it wasn’t was it?

Spike froze. It took him a few minutes to decide to stay in another room. He turned to a set of double doors. It had been his father’s many years ago—kept empty since he died. This was his place now.

Deciding that he already had enough to brood about without thinking about his father’s legacy or just who the master of the house was in any philosophical sense of the word, Spike pushed all of that from his mind. Whose ever room it was before, it was his now. He crossed to the bed and collapsed.

Without meaning or wanting to he cast his senses around the house. He couldn’t hear her, even her slayer-ness which usually burned brightly was faint. He wasn’t sure if it was because of her infernal pregnancy or just she was hiding out.

She was somewhere else hiding from him because he had royally fucked this one up.

She knew him now, she knew where he came from she knew who he was more than anyone else. And she had been kind about it. And he had just thrown caution to the wind because she had pressed her lips to his and he had never been that good at keeping himself from going all soppy when a girl gave him even a crumb of encouragement.

Bloody stupid idiot.

Why couldn’t he stick to the damn plan? He had very clearly spooked her. He didn’t know why he was unable to make himself wait, stick to the carefully doled out bits of seduction he hadthought out for the bigger pay off. But even as he was thinking that he knew it was immaterial. Patience had never been a virtue of the vampire he had become.

He lit another cigarette.

He had wanted to wait, wanted to take her slowly. He had wanted to tease her until she was a quivering mass of need. He would use everything he had learned, a considerable amount in the last century, to make her beg until she couldn’t take it anymore. Instead she had blown right passed that and pressed her hot little self against him and he was lost. There was no finesse, very little teasing or technique, it was two people taking what they wanted from each other. Usually he’d have been all for that, until he woke with a distinct lack of Buffy and his mind went through all the ways he could have showed her how good it could be just to distract himself from how much it stung.

He had realized some time ago what he felt for her. Falling in love was not the right idiom, it was more like being whacked in the head by a two by four. Spike had had experience both these things and he was sure Buffy was the latter. It didn’t happen slowly, it was a sudden realization one day that he had tried to deny until he was having dreams so vivid he woke with a hard on that he could hang a hat on. He knew now why that was, because being with her had been unlike anything Spike had ever experienced in a century of debauchery.

When Alex happened, when he realized who and what she was, he felt himself start to hope. Maybe he wasn’t certifiable, maybe this thing with her wasn’t pure insanity on his part. Another Buffy had made another Spike her champion. Alex was the other Buffy’s reward, that other slayer had wanted a piece of Spike more than anything else. She had named her daughter for him. He wondered idly how she had found out about Alex, he was going to need to plug up that breach in security.

But that didn't seem too important right about now. RIght now, the feather bed was important.

The downward spiral of self pity had seemed to have broken and Spike felt himself start to succumb to the comfort of being in a large bed with good sheets and comfortable pillows. He felt his consciousness melt everything out of sharp focus.

He hadn’t gotten very much actual rest in the last few days, his mind had been on continual crisis mode trying to keep his family away from the specter that haunted even a monster’s nightmares.

Now he put out his cigarette and let himself drift, pushing even thoughts of last nights monumental cock up from his head. He was Spike, he’d suss it in the morning. Everything was sinking into slide focus, fuzzy around the edges.

Which was why he didn’t hear the door open or sense Buffy tip-toe into the room.


****


Buffy approached Spike’s supine form on the bed as quietly as she could. She wasn’t sure what surprising him would do but it was probably going to less awkward than waking him and asking permission.

Buffy shook off the sudden influx of very awkward opening lines. What do you say to someone you abandoned after one night of monkey sex? what if he is also your ex-mortal enemy? current baby daddy?

We’ve got the consequences so what about some of the fun?

Inward cringe. She was going to have to wing it. She was a winger. She could do that.

He was laying starfish-like on a huge four poster bed, looking like he could have just drifted off. Buffy had been around a slumbering Spike quite a bit, he rarely looked this calm. Usually he looked on his guard, even in his sleep. Now, however, he looked peaceful and boyish. Just like he had a few nights ago, but now when she was unworried about his chip-addled state she could appreciate it. She paused for a second at the edge of the bed to study him. He looked like a classical painting which is not the way she would have ever thought she would describe Spike. But now he was all titian golden brown curls and full lips and marble pale skin. The only thing that marred the image was his scar bisecting his eyebrow. She let her gaze travel downward passed his strong shoulders to his back and—

She had paused for too long because she was very suddenly pinned to the bed with a couple hundred pounds of master vampire pinning her down.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised this is what you like.” the quip came to her head without a moments conscious thought.

Winger.

Spike glared at her with yellow eyes and fangs bare, her name was growl low in his throat. This should scare her, or perhaps make unsure of her decision but Buffy couldn’t help the ache that travelled right down to the core of her. She wanted him so badly her body wasn’t so much preparing for him as it was demanding she take him now. She could no more to stop herself from wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling his face down to hers than she could stop breathing.

She had a speech prepared, a whole to-do about how she needed to think, but being with him felt good and she wasn’t going to make herself feel bad but there were still things that were not so much okay to talk about yet because of complications and pregnancies and Alex and this world’s Alex and all of that disappeared in a millisecond. She didn’t even spare a thought to how fucked up it was that Spike’s game face made her so wet she could feel her desire coating her thighs.

Spike was still for only a moment before he was plundering her mouth, his fangs making tiny cuts on her lips that juxtaposed the tenderness with which he held her to him, which was fine since she had latched on to him like a vice. Her hands were in his hair preventing him from going anywhere and she was rubbing herself wantonly against the already hard length in his pants.

Spike groaned and wrenched himself away from her.

She mewled in protest and reached for his belt, determined to rip it apart to get at what she wanted.

It looked physically painful for him to shift back into his human features.

“Buffy, pet, please—want to make it good for you.” He said his hips unconsciously pressing against her fingers. “Want to—”

She was kissing his neck, nibbling his jawline. Her hands made a burning trail down her back and onto the front of his pants, she closed them around his member, one hand stroking the other brushed his balls.

Spike roared.

Buffy felt her world flip around and suddenly she was on top of him, pants shredded and his cock was buried firmly inside her. He was holding onto her hips and steady her as he pistoned in and out of her.

She threw her head back and moaned at the feel of him. Her hands raked down his front and she used her slayer strength to ride him, pushing down with every his every up-thrust and encouraging him with a litany of desperate encouragement.

Her first orgasm snuck up on her and hit her with the force of a freight train. She collapsed onto his chest and he flipped them over, his pace slowed letting her ride out the waves. She pressed her face into his neck pressing kisses to every spot she reached.

Despite the slower pace, she felt the next climax start to build. She pushed herself up to meet each thrust urging him to go faster.

“Patience, pet, let it happen.”

She couldn’t find the words but she tried to tell him with the bucking of her hips, she wanted more, so much more. Her body was still on the throes of too many sensations. Spike was nibbling on her ear and Buffy had had no idea that place was so sensitive but she could feel his breath and his tongue like it was everywhere at once. She felt, more than heard Spike soft purrs of contentment and the rumble went deliciously through her, her eyes fell closed and she was lost again.

The pace he set was languid, supporting himself on his elbows and pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in. She felt his hand, cool against her overheated skin, reach down to where they were joined and gently flit across her clit and she was shattering into a million pieces again, unable to control herself as she plummeted into orgasm. He managed to hold that pace through another of Buffy’s climaxes before he could no longer hold back and soon they were both moving against each other with straining thrusts, Buffy meeting each stroke of his and babbling nonsense into his ear about how much and how good she felt.

Suddenly Spike added a small twist of his hips at the end of each thrust which rubbed against the magical spot, while simultaneously flicking her clit and Buffy came so hard she didn’t remember screaming or Spike’s final painfully deep thrust before he spilled himself inside her. All she could do was hold on top him as she exploded into a million peices.

They both collapsed drenched in her sweat and gasping for breath.

Buffy felt herself melt into the bed. All the noise in her head had faded to the background. She felt him maneuver her so that she was on top of him, sprawled against his chest.

“We didn’t break the bed.” Was the only thing she could think to say.

“S’good English craftsmanship, this is.” He said lazily.

She didn’t remind him that the room downstairs was also good English craftsmanship. She just lay on his chest letting herself feel the rumbling. he was playing with the ends of her hair and it was heavenly. She had had afterglow in the past, but this was another level, neither even bothered to pull the covers up around themselves. It was a sated lull, she didnt care what her hair looked like or what time it was or how much time had passed. She couldn't bring herself to.

“I didn’t know you purred.” She said after a spell.

“S’a lot you don’t know about me, pet.”

It seemed like a quick, off-hand quip but Buffy pushed herself up, finding herself intrigued by his response. She felt oddly superiour now that she could arch an eyebrow and shoot it down.

“That so?”

Spike looked confused for a moment but seemed to remember the events of last night before all the distractions. He shut his eyes as if he was trying to shut that out.

“Suppose its not the case anymore.” He said.

God, that was satisfying. For years, Spike had always been the one who could see thru her. It was nice to finally be able to say that she knew something about him. She surveyed the room, even in the dark she could tell it was probably the nicest room she had ever been in, not nice. Grand was the word, old fashioned and opulent, like the four poster bed they lay in that could have housed several people.

“Was this your room?”

Spike chuckled.

“This is the room of the master of the house.” He said. He didn’t say more than that.

She couldn’t think of anything to say to that either. “Right.”

She lay back down on top of him.

She thought it was mere seconds before she replied, but it could have been longer, her inner-clock has gone all wonky from the post sexy-time daze.

“You brought us here to keep us safe. That--that must not have been an easy decision."

His hands had migrated from her hair to her back where he was Buffy felt herself start to drift off.

“Easiest in the world.” he murmured back.

"Thank you."

There was no telling how much time had passed, when Buffy woke again it was still dark. She figured it was the early hours of the morning. A quick glance at the cellphone Raj had given her confirmed this. She slid out of his arms and gathered her clothing.

Spike propped himself up on his elbows watching her. His eyebrows arched in a silent question.

“D’you think Lex managed to rustle up some grub?” She asked.

Spike rolled his shoulders and clambered off the bed, pulling on his now absolutely unsalvageable pants.

“Something tells me nothing gets between that girl and her food.”

He pulled the jeans up around his hips but the zipper was ripped and his ben was in several peices and the button was a fond memory. He looked from his pants up to her smirking face. Spike didn't wear underwear so Spike jr. was on display for anyone to see.

She giggled. “Want some rope? Or something?”

“You’re right cheeky for the person who ruined these pants.” He said. “you’re getting me some new ones, luv, or I’m scarrin’ Oxford for life.”


-------------

What did you think? Sorry they snuck on me with all their shenanigans and writing the aftermath, getting that tone right was harder than I thought it was going to be.....but Merry Christmas! more soon!
End Notes:
What did you think? Sorry they snuck on mewith all their shenanigans and writing the aftermath, getting that tone right was harder than I thought it was going to be.....but Merry Christmas! more soon!
Chapter 19 - Those Left Behind by Petra
Author's Notes:
Hi... I'm so sorry that this took so long, it's just I had a hard time cutting through it and going back to it when I just want to write Spuffy smut, But this chapter needed to happen. The next one will be up soon I promise. Whew! Writing downtime is so much harder than crazy action scenes! Enjoy!
Hi... I'm so sorry that this took so long, there are a tone of excuses but mostly, it's just I had a hard time slow aftermath pieces when I just want to write Spuffy smut and explosions, But this chapter needed to happen. The next one will be up soon I promise. Whew! Writing downtime is so much harder than crazy action scenes! Enjoy!

Also none of my notes are showing, but I appreciate all of your reviews! and I look forward to hearing more!!!

Thanks all,
Petra


Chapter Nineteen – Those Left Behind


There was rubbish piling up on the counter.

Rupert studiously avoided looking at it as he came downstairs. The afternoon sunshine came in slanted highlighting the clutter in his once pristine flat. It had been building for months, but he couldn’t make himself clear it away. He couldn’t make himself sort through it, he was probably behind on important correspondence, but that seemed immaterial. Every morning he just dropped the post on the counter and avoided it for the rest of the day, that whole bit of the flat, which made getting into his kitchen difficult.

He was spending a fortune on take-away.

Most days he was able to function properly. He was actually quite proud of how he was handling it, it would be worse if he had just allowed himself to sink into the fact that he was a watcher without a slayer, but he had stopped being a watcher years ago. Now he had the shop, and the extraordinary band of people who were determined to keep on fighting the good fight. It was a little like he was their watcher now. Except that he had to stop thinking of himself that way.

He managed to get up, get dressed and make it into the Magic Box. If it was a good day he would leave the place in the able hands of Anya and go home, maybe read a book. If it was a very good day he would make tea and force himself to sort the post, bills were a part of the real world, but it meant seeing the letter, the letter that the Council sent him as a courtesy because he already knew what it said.

She was gone. The oracles had confirmed it.

He couldn’t make himself throw it away. So the logistics of his life waited for his good days.

Today was one of those. He had not even required the distraction that was his shop, he just sat at home and read, able to quiet the feelings that he had failed her for a little longer than usual. It was uncharacteristically drippy out in Sunnydale, it felt properly mournful.

He was in the kitchen, making a cuppa. He had seen to his bills and even found a letter from Olivia.

There had been a lot of good days recently.

He had taken to visiting with Joyce on bad days. At first he had harkened back to the days after Buffy’s first disappearance, but it was different this time. She understood Buffy’s calling a little bit better and had come to accept the complications that came with along with it. She had become a bit of a self- help nut, but Giles did his best to keep her grounded, coming to her house for wine and conversation. He had initially gone over to help out the woman who had become a friend, but the visits had also become immensely beneficial to him. Having things to do, somewhere to be in the evening helped a good deal. He had to be presentable, keep going, and every time he had to go be with the Scoobies and be their watcher it got a little bit easier to be that, it became a bit less pointless to shave, a bit more comfortable to be among the others.

He put the kettle on, but was careful to avoid the counter, he had milk in the fridge. He had had it just a little longer than he was normally comfortable with, but it would do.

He wondered how the shop was doing. Anya had turned out to be an able business woman which was surprising since, as he understood it, she had been failing math back at Sunnydale high. Dawn had also turned out to be quite the revelation. Joyce had been grateful for Dawn to feel a measure of inclusion in the Scoobies as well as independence from her mother. Dawn, it seems, had been starting to suspect something when Joyce had whisked her away to Chicago so soon after finding out that her sister had died. They had both decided that the news of her own true nature would not be well received. She worked at the Magic Box three afternoons a week, although Rupert was always careful to let her leave with ample time before sunset to walk home.

Rupert sighed, fixing the tea and heading out into the living room to drink it.

Surprisingly, the Summers’s removal from Sunnydale and Buffy’s disappearance had been enough to throw Glory off their tail. It had been so easy the Scoobies were waiting for the other shoe to drop. At first only Glory and her Minions had realized the slayer’s disappearance, but word had started to spread and there was a marked uptick in the demon population so perhaps it had already.

Rupert was suddenly distracted by the time. He was expected in the Summer’s house in half an hour and he still needed to pick up a bottle of wine. Hurriedly, he gulped down his tea and dashed upstairs to be sure he had everything that he needed. There was a time when he would never have left dishes in the sink but now they just got left at the top of the pile while Rupert did his best to avoid the clutter of the post. He could put a brave face on it most days, but one look into his apartment burst the façade.


*****


Tara loved misty rainy weather. It was something that she missed living in Southern California. So it was a rare treat for her for there to be a day like this. How strange for the weather to be perfect all the time even in the winter. Not today, it was misty today, almost foggy. So she sat enjoying the pretty grounds of UC Sunnydale just feeling at peace and doing her best to project good vibes to her girlfriend who was feeling everything but.

Mrs. Summers was having a dinner party today. Party was the wrong word, party meant happy things and there were no happy things, really. Today was supposed to be Buffy’s birthday. So it was more of a gathering. Willow had made a joke Tara didn’t get about Brie.

Tara wasn’t sure that she should be there, the joke notwithstanding, she and Willow had been going strong but she had barely known Buffy. She was going to feel super-weird while everyone talked about the good old days. Tara sighed to herself, not going was not going to be an option though. She studied Willow through the curtain of her blonde hair. Her girlfriend was not doing well.

It had started a week ago when Willow had broken down over a top that didn’t look like something the red head would usually wear. It had apparently been a gift she had purchased for Buffy ages ago, she had been saving it for her birthday. She had worn that earlier, but she had since changed her clothes a few times, six to be exact.

Her personal misgivings about being around the crew were going to have to take a back seat. Willow needed her. She was just going to have to muscle through it.

Maybe she could just get other people to tell stories, then she could just listen. She had really liked Buffy, she knew there would be some good ones. And they would want to tell them.

Willow caught her attention again, she was babbling about fuzziness being inappropriate.

“But Buffy really liked this sweater, she even borrowed it once—sure it was in a purely temperature related instance but she’s worn it… but by that logic I should really wear that top that I got for her but it’s a little shiny and—” she stopped abruptly. “I could actually wear something black, black is traditional! And also choice patrol wear which could be like an homage! Right?”

She launched into a rehash of an old adventure when she had to wear some sort of black corset and be what she called a “doppelvamper” and much as Tara loved the image of Willow in a black leather corset, she knew that Wills was exactly 6 seconds from a meltdown. Desperate to distract her girlfriend, Tara blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“You know this was the first time since its inception that Sunnydale’s population grew,” even as she said it she knew it was a stupid thing to say, but it seemed to pique Willow’s interest. She wrinkled her brow, panic abated for a moment.

“I wonder if that could be the mayor’s whammy that was keeping things standardized,” she said uncertainly. “Like some sort of mystical stopping point?”

Tara arched her eyebrows and waited for Willow to continue.

“Our mayor was a diabolical wannabe hell snake. Or he became one at graduation.”

“Do you have even one high school memory of fluffy kitties and rainbows?”

Will smirked, the first time Tara had seen her be properly playful in weeks. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Tara smiled at her mischievously and pushed a piece of hair behind her girlfriend’s ear. “Wear the sweater. it’s cold out. Warm is good.”


*****


Joyce checked on the chicken for the fourth time. People were due in about a half hour and Dawn had just called to let her know she was riding with Xander and Anya from the shop. She could practically hear the eye roll in the teenager’s voice when Joyce had told her that it would be no trouble to go and collect her.

She knew she was being a little bit over protective and all the books warned her against being a helicopter mom, but she couldn’t really help it.

Still, today was Buffy’s birthday so she was going to do something. The logistics of the dinner party had helped her get through the week and maybe tonight she would be exhausted enough to sleep.

She wondered belatedly if it would be a bad idea to have the whole gang together without the pivotal member, but she dismissed that out of hand. These kids—and they were still little more than kids—were finding ways to cope and maintain the fight against evil that her daughter had championed. The least she could do was cook them a meal.

It was odd, she was actually rather looking forward to hearing their stories of the part of Buffy’s life that Joyce had been hesitant to really understand before. She had stupidly been too scared to hear all the details but oddly now that the worst had happened she wanted to know how her little girl had saved the world a lot.

Buffy Anne Summers, She saved the world a lot. That’s what it read on her grave stone which they had put up in Restfield even without a body to bury.

The chicken was perfect, the mashed potatoes were made, she had salad and an egg plant dish just in case any of them had become vegetarians. She had never met Tara but the girl had a vegetarian-y vibe to her from the stories Dawn told.

Dawnie was her conduit to Buffy's friend now. They still congregated at Rupert's shop and he had given her a job. The Job had really been a god send, it was a good way for the teenager to gain measure of separation form her without any compromise of her safety. The Scobby gang knew better than anyone else what Sunnydale was really like. And while they may not know everything about Dawn, they would protect her no matter what.

Dawn was the key. Key to what, Joyce was still not completely sure, but she remembered that fatefull day Rupert had told her that Dawn was not the daughter she remembered. She had just been notified of Buffy’s passing so her response was not the most graceful moment of her life.

He had told her this incredibly difficult truth and she had slapped him right across his face and yelled: I pushed for 19 hours you don’t tell me that my daughter is not real!

That had quickly devolved into a shouting match.

She had known that Rupert had a backbone, he had to; having worked with Buffy for so long, but she had thought him incapable of such a screaming row and after several “now see here!”'s, he had convinced her to see reason. She could be as angry as she wanted that the mystical forces seemed single out her family more than most, but that didn’t change the fact that Dawn was the Key. And someone from a hell dimension was coming after her so she could live in denial or she could save the world. He had ended the conversation with a terse “I know what Buffy would have done.”

She and Dawn left for Chicago the next day.

There were days when she had wished that she could have just stayed in Chicago, beautiful sunny SoCal days when she constantly had to remind herself that Buffy wasn’t just down at the beach with Riley and her friends. She had thought that maybe being away from the hellmouth would be good for Dawn. But Rupert had convinced her that that was not wise. Dawn needed to be near people who could protect her.

At least it was raining, today.

Joyce checked her watch again and then looked down road willing for Xander’s car to show up, she didn’t care if she wasn’t supposed to hover, What did the books know anyway? She had one daughter who was the chosen one and another who apparently was the Key. She should write her own book.

Joyce smiled ruefully. “Mystical Forces and How they mess with you for dummies” she shook her head, it was a niche market. Maybe she could write it and then give it to the watcher’s council and they could provide it for the next family to have a slayer called.

As if on cue, she saw Rupert’s car come down the road and pull into her driveway. The watcher emerged with a bottle of wine.

She opened the door and invited him in. Wordlessly, of course, the implied welcome had become a standard.

“You’re the first.” She said.

Rupert smiled ruefully as he handed her the bottle of wine. “I’ve no wish to speak ill of youth. But they are almost always late.”

Joyce nodded.

“May I take your coat?”

“Er, yes.” Giles said shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to her. “Odd that this is the weather that we get. Must be some sort of record for Sunnydale.”

“I think it might be.” Joyce said with a smile. she put away the jacket and gestured to the bottle of wine. “Shall I get this started?”

“Please.”

She headed towards the kitchen motioning for him to go into the living room.

“Please let me know if I can help with anything.” Giles called.

“You can help me set the table.” Joyce called back.

They busied themselves with readying the house for the guests. Neither of them felt much like talking and the tasks felt comforting.

Ten minutes later, the door opened and a damp Willow and Tara appeared.

“I can’t think I can remember the last time it was rainy!” Willow exclaimed pulling off her jacket. “Even after everything I've seen I think this is the most unbelievable.”

“Hi, Mrs. Summers,” the taller blonde woman said shyly. “I’m Tara, Thank you for having me.”

“Tara! Of course,” she said accepting the dish the blonde was holding out, homemade brownies. She shared an impressed look with Willow who beamed.

“She made them last night.” Willow said.

“Well, it's very sweet of you." The older woman said beaming at Tara. "I'll put this in the kitchen. Why don’t you girls come inside and have some tea. dinner should be ready any minute.” she said ushering them into the living room and then heading off to the kitchen to check on the food and pour tea.

She could hear Rupert ask them about patrol. She unwrapped the brownies and put them on a plate. Talking about patrol was familliar ground, Giles in the other room talking about the forces of darkness and--she was expecting to round the corner with the plateful of brownies and see Buffy sitting on the couch looking serious and annoyed at the same time. The realization made her stop in her tracks. Maybe having everyone over was not the best idea.

“--cently, I mean, do you think we should be talking to Faith?” Willow’s voice sounded worried.

She had to pull it together.

“Hey! What’s with the long faces! I know we’re late but that’s to be expected right?”

Xander. That was Xander’s voice. Joyce had not even heard the door open. Trying to look causal, she hurried into the living room needing to see Dawn. Who was of course no where to be found.

“ Hey Mrs. S, I wasn’t sure if this was a BYO kind of shindig but-wha?” It took Xander a few second to see the stricken look on her face. He glanced from Willow to Giles and looked confused. "Am I missing something?"

“Dawn?” she managed to say.

“Is she not upstairs?” Rupert asked her. From the look on his face he knew that she was not upstairs.

“She said… Xander…” Joyce could feel herself start to hyperventilate. This was so stupid, she was better than this, there were only a few places that Dawn could be and it was still light out, she just had to pull herself together and tell them. “She said she was coming with Xander.”

Rupert helped her into a chair, Tara handed her a glass of water. She didn’t even remember the girl leaving to get it.

“Dawn left the shop early.” Anya said. “just a little early, I reminded her that she doesn’t get paid for hours she doesn’t work even if her shift says so and that according to rules--”

“Right. Thank you, Anya.”

It barely registered to Joyce that Anya looked relieved to have helped. Rupert was, thankfully, taking over the search.

“I’m calling her cellphone.” Willow informed him.

“Perhaps Xander you can try going to the various places she would be? The mall perhaps? or the Bronze?”

“You got it.”

“She’s not answering should I do a locator spell?”

“I doubt it will come to that, Willow, but ready the ingredients in case?”

“She could also be in one of the many restaurants in town, I have heard her speak to her friend Janice on occasion, they seem to be very close because she comes to visit Dawn all the time at the shop and she doesn’t ever buy anything…”

Joyce sat there trying to articulate what was going on, but her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest. her throat was dry and she tried to make herself take a sip of water but she couldn’t make her hand move, it was tingling so much. When she did manage it, it was shaking so hard that the water sloshed out of the glass.

“Joyce, are you alright?”

She could hear Giles but it felt like he was happening a long way away, she couldn’t make herself think of the things Dawn might be doing, she wanted to help. She wanted it so badly, but she couldn’t shake her thoughts away from all the terrible things that could be happening to her.

“That is a stupid question, Giles, clearly she is having an attack of some sort.” Anya’s matter of fact voice cut through the din. The blonde former demon was surprisingly calm in the midst of crisis. “I have some news that might be able to take your mind of of this. Xander and I--”

“Not now, Ahn!”

“I’m trying to help.”

“Joyce, can you hear me?”

Her ears weren’t ringing or anything but she couldn’t make herself answer.

“Uhm, Will?”

“Mrs. Summers?” It was Willow’s voice now. “Mrs. Summers! Joyce!”

She turned and she knew that Willow and Tara were standing there, but she only registered Dawn who was standing there looking petulant.

“What? What is the big? Why is everyone freaking out?”

There was no one else in the room but Dawn in that moment and Joyce wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle her hug her or throw her in her room and bolt the window closed. She might do all three. And Dawn was looking at her like she was the one who was crazy.

“Dawn Summers, you never do that again!” she said trying to catch her breath. “do you understand me? You know you are supposed to tell me where you are! or answer your phone!”

“It was in my bag! God, what’s your damage?”

“Dawn,”

“Maybe we should let you guys talk by yourselves for a while?” Willow’s voice was small.

“No” Joyce said firmly, a few good breaths made her feel much better. Dawn was acting out. The books told her very clearly what she should do about that. She was not going to let her make a big stink. That’s would only encourage her. She gave Dawn a glare that said very clearly that she was not off the hook and they would be having words later. “I’m sure dinner is ready now so Let’s just eat.”

There rest of the dinner went without a hitch. Oddly enough, it was Tara who managed to break through the huge tension luge that was going twisty turny through the dining room.

They were all sitting quietly starting on the buttered peas, when suddenly Tara burst out.

“Soisittruethatyourmayorturnedintoagiantsnake?”

More silence.

“What was that?”

“I j-just, I read this thing about the uh, Sunnydale Population growing and W-w-willow told me that your Mayor was a snake?”

They stared for a few seconds and then Willow spoke up looking grateful.

"Yeah, I was just telling her about when he became a snake, you remember?" she said. “We blew up the school.”

“Really?” Tara asked.

“The Mayor was going to turn into a pure demon. Actually, he did and he ate the principal. Which was all with the badness--actually the eating of the principal was maybe not the worst thing ever. OW!” Xander said after flinching, from where Willow had kicked him under the table. There was another short lull and then Xander spoke again. “but if you want a good story, you know once we used a rocket launcher to kill a demon.”

“Get out!” Dawn exclaimed. “no one every tells me anything cool! When was that?”

“That was the er, the Judge.” Giles said with a faint smile. “That was quite the accomplishment.”

“That was Buffy’s 16th birthday.”Joyce said slowly. Everyone paused and looked tense again everyeone worried about the silence that felt like a stifling blanket. “Who’s idea was that?”

They all visibly relaxed.

“That would be me.” Xander said. “but you know, it was them who figured out the “no weapon forged thing." apparently the Judge couldn't be killed by a forged weapon. So we had to not forge one.”

“It was a good plan.” Anya said proudly. “I wasn’t there, though, that was before me. I was still a demon then. I think I was at--”

“Maybe we don’t talk about your demon past, Ahn?”

“This is so lame. I never get to know anything.” Dawn grumbled.

“You didn’t want to know about that one, Dawnie, it was actually kind boring once we set it in motion. and it was ooky. So many guts. There were definitely better demons.”

“Better demons?”

“Once we had to fight this demon and Giles mis-translated something and it turned out to be really weenie. That was funny.”

“The spiders and stuff before that, though were not.” Xander spoke up.

“All that world ending and you’re afraid of spiders?” Dawn said starting to giggle. Next to her, Willow started to giggle and then Tara and then Anya. Soon they were all laughing.

“Spiders have too many legs!” Xander said trying to be heard over all the mirth. “And most of them are poisonous! Not everything is mystical you know! Anya is afraid of Bunnies!!”

That just made them all laugh harder. That started a few rounds of stories and the chicken slowly disappeared and after a few more anecdotes that Joyce was only half listening to she caught Rupert’s eye and gestured towards the kitchen.

“I need to tell her.” She said once they were safely out of ear short of the Scoobies.

Giles looked stricken.

“Joyce, You musn’t act rashly, I understand that this is a difficult situation--"

“She has no idea and I need her to know so she won’t do things like this!”

“She’s a teenager and if you try and hover--”

“Don’t you dare, Rupert. If I tell her she would understand why we are so worried about her.”

“If you tell her she’ll do all the things that a regular teenager does and she will have to deal with her origins story which is not something a grieving girl needs to handle.” Rupert said reasonable.

Joyce narrowed her eyes at him.

“I know this is difficult Joyce, But imagine being told that you aren’t who you thought you were, moreover, you are a creation of monks. Do you really think this is what she needs right now?”

Joyce exhaled slowly and looked miserable.

“I can’t just keep lying to her.” She said.

“And I wouldn’t advocate that.” he said. he peeked through the swinging door. “But this is a special circumstance.We'll tell her soon.”

Joyce sighed. “Fine. Protecting her right? There should be a damn book for this.”

“If you find one, get me a copy.”


*****


“Well, it’s very sunny and I’m beginning to find that tedious.” There was a pause. It was good to hear from No. 9. From the sounds of it, they were actually taking the idea of laying low to heart. Raj had moved out of his parents home and was using it as some sort of side income while “renting” a mews cottage from a wealthy member of the peerage. He received updates every few days through channels opened and encrypted by Raj. “Right, I should be going. I am working on it.”

Wesley clicked the phone off and smiled faintly, It was odd how easily he had fallen into step with Spike and Buffy, how quickly they had found their stride. He couldn’t help but notice how Angel Investigations was quiet without Angel--which was odd since he was technically the proprietor.

He must have looked very pensive because when he glanced up from his desk he saw his only female employee arching a questioning eyebrow. Although Cordelia always managed to turn it into a demanding eyebrow.

“And who are you talking to? You're accent's gone all BBC and you are distinctly less quivery and self-conscious as you get when you are phoning the homecountry.”

“Contact with the health department.” Wes answered smoothly. "She has a thing for costume dramas."

Cordy nodded, semi-impressed. “Apocalypses aside asbestos is what we’re really worried about?”

“Mock all you like, this hotel is not exactly the paragon of asbestos free virtue, I wouldn’t put it passed Wolfram and Hart to exploit petty technicality.”

“That’s whole new level of evil.” Gunn said as he finished sharpening a new axe. “Any new visions? This baby could use a test drive.”

“You know you would be enjoying the reprieve from the powers too if you had the visions that feel like hot lava was being poured into your head. Anyway we have important things to deal with, like Who’s turn it is to set the traps.”

Wesley and Gunn simultaneously pointed to each other. “His turn!”

Cordy rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You were just asking me to have a vision so you could axe up a hell beast and you were just waxing poetic about the importance of keeping this place free from lease examining lawyers.”

“Man, I hate rats!” Gunn said. “With their beady little eyes and weird little whooshy tails. Gimme a demon any day.”

“Fine! I have to do everything around here, I have to have the visions, I have to set the rat traps, If only my friends back in Sunnydale could see me now.” She got up and headed towards the basement. “Seriously, Cordelia can get a man to do anything for her, sheyah as long as it doesn’t involve any rats because men are such babies ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHH!”

Gunn and Wes were halfway across the foyer before they saw what Cordy was screaming about.

“You’re back! You guys! he’s back!”

They were doing the reunion thing, Wesley held back, watching Angel. A lot of the stories that he had heard from Spike didn’t really reconcile with this Angel that Wesley knew, but he found himself becoming more and more wary of his friend. But then he could never have said no to a Murshan Dynasty dagger.

“How’s Fred?”

“Great!” Cordy said brightly.

“Still hasn’t come out of her room?”

“We send up a lot of Tacos.”

Angel nodded thoughtfully and then swept upstairs to speak to Fred. The three of them watched him go. Cordy looked faintly annoyed.

“God, you’d think he’d wait a second before becoming all dark hero-y maybe we had updates! Maybe I just had a vision and we’re working on case, but no, Dark and Broody has to go be dark and broody at Fred until she comes out. For someone who says he doesn’t like the idea of being her knight in shining armour--”

Wes had stopped listening to her, he had recently felt a little detached from the goings on in LA, but perhaps it was just because they had been on small jobs since he had come back from England. He glanced up after Angel, maybe that twinge of jealousy was the natural deference of every to Angel as the leader or maybe it was because he was up there sweeping Fred off her barely grounded feet.


******


“Why can’t we tell them?” Anya demanded of him as they were driving back to their apartment from 1630 Revello. “It’s happy news!”

Xander sighed exasperatedly. “Ahn, remember when you told me that I should stop making social cues and just tell you stuff? Well, Buffy’s Birthday dinner was not the time to tell anyone that we’re getting married.”

She looked at him skeptically.

“We’ll tell them. Just, not right when everything is so tense. Not when we’re worried about Dawn or when we’re mourning Buffy. All of it points to it just wasn’t a good time.”

“When is a good time?”

“Almost anytime else.”

Anya let out a frustrated breath.

“Xander I never thought I would be looking forward to this human rite of passage.” She said slowly. “but I am. And I want to get started.”

“We’ll tell them soo--What the?”

Xander stopped short, there was a motorcycle gang rolling through the main street of Sunnydale. And not even one of them looked like a regular Hell’s Angel. Even from inside the car he could hear the frenzied shouts of “The Slayer is gone! The Hellmouth is ours!”

“We need to get to Giles’s right now.”


*****


Giles placed his newly polished glasses back on his nose. “At least a dozen of them you say?”

Xander nodded.

“I was worried that talk of Buffy’s-- er--disappearance would provoke something like this.”

“What do we do, Giles?” Willow asked. “We can’t get Faith out of prison. I really thought that the Watcher’s council would be able to expedite that process.”

“This entire situation is unprecedented, Willow, and the Council has never been the most responsive group even in the best of times. We’re going to have to do something to convince the hoard that the slayer is alive and well, perhaps that would dissuade them.”

“We could use a spell!” Willow said perking up instantly. “I saw this interesting on in a book I was reading the other day about a blanket illusion.”

“A blanket illusion is a highly complicated spell, Willow, That would entail channeling a lot of raw power.”

“I don’t see what choice we have, Giles.” She said somberly. “and I’ve done something a little like this before. I've channeled serious magicks.”

There was a pause. They all remembered Angelus’s reign of terror over Sunnydale and Willow was a lot less powerful then.

“Go into battle with no secret weapon but Willow’s whammy.” Xander said. “I’m in.”

“Well, it it doesn’t just have to be me,” Willow said looking nervous. “Do we still have that rocket launcher? We can do the shock and awe thing.”

“I hesitate to resort to aid from the US army.”

“I can still work it.” Xander said. "We just need to hold them off."

“And we can use the blanket illusion to make it look like Buffy is bringing on the damage.”

There was an odd electricity in the room, a purpose that hadn’t been there over the last few months. as the plan came together, The Scooby gang worked like a the unit they had been in the past. Giles studied Willow closely, she had her resolve face on. Xander looked determined, even Anya and Tara seemed ready to help wherever they could.

“Very well,” he said. “Let’s get started then.” He strode over to the kitchen and took an envelope off the counter. “ First things first, I will contact the council. We need a slayer on the hellmouth, we are not letting it fall.”

"Not on our watch!" Willow agreed.

"Or on theirs because this is technically supposed to be their job!" Anya piped in.

"That's the spirit, Ahn."

There was something about coming together to face an impossible enemy that made them all forget the Buffy shaped hole in the universe for just a second and that was why no one seemed to notice that Willow was just a little too excited to attempt a spell that was, for accounts and purposes, far beyond her ability. No one except Tara, but she was so happy to just see her Girlfriend working and functioning again that she was able to ignore the niggling feeling that that was a bad idea.
End Notes:
What do you think? We are going to do another quick CA chapter soon, but more Spuffy before that I promise.
Chapter 20 - The Wait by Petra
I know this is late. I know it's very, very late and I'm so sorry. That last few months have been hell I was in a car accident and the fallout made it difficult to take time to write this and I couldn't get the tone just right. Anyway, I figured it out and the next chapter will be up in the next fortnight. If not I give you all permission to send me angry e-mails!


Chapter Twenty – the Wait


In the hundred years that he had been a vampire, Spike had never learned to wait. He suspected the slayer was much the same. They were heroes. Heroes were not patient creatures. They thrived on adrenaline—it brought out the best and worst in them, but that was what it was about. They were passionate creatures, thriving on the blood when it screamed through their veins. All this downtime was driving them insane.

Downtime meant thinking and over-thinking and that all the messy bullshit that was so easy to ignore while they were running and dodging and hiding was going to have to come front and center.

Spike rolled his neck smirking to himself.

Eventually.

If the slayer was good at anything it was denial, and it wasn’t like he was going to be rocking the boat. He knew that he should. He knew he should take a stand and all that rot. He should define what this was that they were doing or make her define it but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when he had everything he wanted. So even though he knew this was a bad move, that he would regret this later, it was too easy to let that be future Spike’s problem.

He set himself on the mat and started to punch. Left jab, check, check, quick rally, haymaker.

They may be safe and warm now, but he could be dust at anytime, he might as well take his jollies when he could get them.

Another rally. He began to work on footwork as well, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet.

The training room had been the minion’s idea. They couldn't risk patrol, but they had to keep in fighting trim and it wasn’t like they could just go to a gym, so they set one up in the basement in the place that had been the servant’s quarters. Once that was done, Buffy had set her eyes to the rest of the house. Apparently interior design was one of his slayer’s talents.

His slayer.

Bugger.

He needed to be careful of that. Keep that quiet keep all the other worshipful endearments he was always so close to sputtering around her. She was skittish as all hell. He supposed he had his bloody grandsire to thank for that but as of now, they had a good thing going and he was still trying not to exhale funny and have her bolt.

Upper cut, rally, back fist. The bag flew off its anchor leaving Spike panting unnecessarily in it’s wake.

Deciding to leave it for now, he lit a cigarette and took a long thoughtful drag.

For a week No.9 Wilton Crescent looked much like it had a hundred years ago. It was like some sort of twisted “William” themed museum exhibition. But they had already ruined the study and within two days of declared “laying-low” Buffy had been driven to decorating. Now it was an odd jumble of new and antique furniture, samples of paint and bits of wallpaper were everywhere from wherever Buffy went during the day.

Raj had moved in officially since coming back from his parents’ house. They had been very careful to go through the motions. Raj had put the carriage house on the market anonymously and for a truly astounding ammount of money. He then insisted they interview candidates, he and the minion mostly took care of that, after a few days of that farce, Raj took the place himself. He had decided to let his parent’s house to another family which meant suddenly the rag-tag troupe had a ton of what was—in Spike’s opinion—odd-looking severe furniture. Buffy and Alex seemed to really like it and he really had little preference. He had never cared very much for how the place looked, as far as he was concerned, as long as it didn't look like the place he had known, he was alright with it.

Despite the changes, bouts of nostalgia hit him randomly. And they were not benign musings but savage, gut wrenching memories. Memories of his mother stepping just too close to him, golden eyes blazing, or a whiff of stale book dust that reminded him of the day of his baby sister’s funeral when he had escaped the ton into his father's study to cry in unmanly sobs. Or the smell of the polish Morton had used to keep all the banisters and woodwork gleaming would remind him off all the days he got up early and went downstairs without ringing for his valet and would scare the staff half to death. Even his bedroom, the room that had been his father’s room, a room he had never entered reminded him of when he was younger and he had tried to sneak in with Gordie and Charles before they had died. He tried to ignore this most of the time, but it was inevitable, and he said nothing of it to the girls or Raj.

The only place it never happened, was in the training room. It was below the stairs. He had never been to the servants quarters while he was a human. Now it was his refuge.

He stubbed out his cigarette before acknowledging her. He had known she was there for a while now, but he was studying her sense-signature. He could sense her like he could sense he slayer, but there was something off about her feel. Clearly, she was somewhere between an Aurelian and a slayer but her tug on his awareness was unique not really a mixing of both. It was like something that had been there all along but he could only just now name.

“Not nice to lurk, Min.”

Even with his back turned he could hear her eye roll.

“I’m half evil. It’s my birthright.”

“Well, your technique sucks.”

“Are you doubting my evil cred?”

He glanced over at her disbelievingly for a second.

“You don’t have evil cred, bit.”

Her grin was triumphant. She was waiting for that reaction. She knew what he was going to say sometimes before he said it. She had known him less than a fortnight and she thought she had his number.

“Wanna be the pot or the kettle?”

He chuckled inwardly and allowed a begrudging smile. He had rather walked into that one, but he knew it was coming. He had reconciled wearing the white hat the second he took the slayer’s hand months ago.

Didn’t mean he was going to let off that easily.

“I’ll have you know that I—”

“She texted me.”

Spike’s mouth shut of its own accord with an audible click. He had to look away. His fingers, usually so precise, shook a little when he lit a cigarette.

“She wanted to know how my homework is going.”

It wasn’t what he was hoping for, both of them knew it.

“Offer to help, did she? Because I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“I’m doing trig, Spike.” Alex said invading his line of sight. “She asked me about math. Math! And she’s all apprehensive and also she made the appointment for the latest possible slot that the place was open. Y’know, waited for it to basically be sundown.”

“She said she wanted to do this alone.” He kept his tone as even as he could but it wouldn’t fool eagle-eyed mini-me. He wished she had inherited just a little of the slayer’s obliviousness. He hated how bitter the words tasted in his mouth.

“And when exactly did you start taking orders from her?”

She had known he was going to say that just like she knew how much it hurt him not to be there. She had countered too quickly even with her Scooby blood. He didn’t have an answer for her, at least one that didn’t sound pathetic.

“Since you two got all fleshy.” She finished accusingly, as if she hadn’t just prodded an extremely tender spot.

“Well, that’s just indelicate.”

“She wants you there, she’s afraid to ask.”

“She sent you the message.”

“You don’t know how to use your fucking phone!”

“Language, bit.”

She stared at him for a long moment looking unsure whether she should laugh or be offended.

“Seriously? You say “fuck” all the time!”

“I’m near a hundred and fifty and you are fifteen.”

She didn’t say anything in reply, just glared at him. Her arms were folded across her chest and her head was cocked to one side, one eyebrow arched. Spike wondered if this was what looking in a mirror was like.

Finally, she spoke. She sounded disappointed.

“She wants you to be there but she won’t ask. You know it. She can’t not be stupid about this stuff. You can.”

For a moment he just said nothing. He was puffing away at his third cigarette, the whisp-y smoke was carried away through some phantom vent. Finally he groaned in defeat. He turned his heel and headed out the door. She followed after him trying not to be smug

“You know where it is?”

She was failing miserably.

“Yeah.” He growled over his shoulder. He caught sight of her shit eating grin just as he was about to walk up the stairs. He knew that look. He often wore that look. Suddenly a lot of the Scooby’s stake happy behavior towards him over the years made a lot more sense.


*****


Paper trail. Paper trail. Paper trail. Paper trail.

Buffy sat in the infinitely soothing office muttering that mantra over and over under her breath. Low enough that the receptionist couldn’t hear her.

This place was so upscale that the receptionist looked like she should be on a runway and not behind a desk, typing. Buffy wondered, idly, if she was actually typing or if she did that to seem busy and discreet. If she, Buffy, were to sneak over behind her would it just be gibberish on the computer screen?

The image in her head was less funny than she thought it would be. Nothing was really funny, nothing would distract her from what was about to happen.

She knew needed to be here. She was here in the UK legally. Her name was Annabeth Pratt and she was going to be a mom and being a mom meant getting a check-up and having that check-up logged into some kind of computer-y system-y thing. Because she was part of the system-y thing and was definitely not in hiding. Raj had told her all about this. Hide in plain sight. She was not the slayer. She was just a ritzy socialite expat coming in to get that first check-up; nothing to see here.

She sat stiffly on the buttery yellow couch. Though the entire atmosphere was that of relaxation and calm, she sat ramrod straight, ready to bolt, robotically sipping the mineral water with raspberries that the ridiculously good looking assistant had given her.

Everything smelled like ylang-ylang. The place felt more like a spa than a doctor’s office. This was what the most upscale gynecologist in London had to offer it's clientele. Trying to get an appointment here was like trying to get Lakers tickets at the superbowl. Or something like that. Raj had made a reference Spike and Alex seemed really impressed by it and Buffy was too nervous to have him explain it.

Trying to get her metaphors straight was giving her a headache, it was like she couldn’t keep a thing this big in there and entertain other thoughts while it was still in there. Her brain was too full of this thing. This baby thing and if it was a baby or if it was real and human and healthy and there were too many feeling associated and too many questions that made her feel protective and horrible at the same time. It was just too big so despite the headache she was going to try and put something else in her brain. Like the superbowl; or maybe something easier like shoes.

Paper trail. Raj had said that they needed a paper trail. Paper trails meant that they were people who existed and not people on the run, so they had to act normal even if normal felt very, very exposed. The receptionist—her name was Arabella or Donatella or Belladonna maybe? Probably wasn’t watching her, she probably didn’t notice anything was weird, all she probably saw was jittery young woman which was normal for a first time mom, but Buffy still felt like she was doing something wrong. She had forgotten something obvious that made her stick out horribly and everyone but her could tell she was a huge fraud. And Stellabella would remember her as that girl who totally stuck out because of the thing that was obvious and when Genesis tracked them down she would be able to point her out and then she would be screwed. They would all be screwed.

Buffy glanced over fearfully and felt her heart stop. Gabriella was not sitting and typing and looking serene. She was gone.

Suddenly everything was pushed up on the Buffy panic timeline, she had been in cahoots with Genesis the whole time! What if the water was drugged? How could she had been so stupid? She had waited until the receptionist had taken a sip before she drank hers but maybe it was some kind of toxin that you could build up a tolerance to and she was—

She felt a hand on her shoulder and was in battle mode before she even realized it. Graciella jumped back startled.

“Mrs. Pratt?”

“Yes?” Buffy said weakly jerking out of fighting stance and trying to look casual.

Her name tag said Isabella.

She looked sympathetic—just bordering on pitying. Buffy felt herself relax the tiniest bit. She thought Buffy was nervous because of the baby.

“Mrs. Pratt, Dr. Barrow will see you now.” Isabella said kindly.

Buffy nodded still unable to form full sentences.

“It’s perfect normal to be nervous. Everyone is for their first appointment.” The receptionist said as she turned to lead passed a mahogany door to the exam rooms. “You haven’t gone mad, even though you think you have.”

Buffy felt the knot she had tied herself into relax just a little bit more. She was stupid to have texted Alex. She could do this, all she had to do was get through—Buffy felt herself stop even though she was telling her legs to go forward. Isabella had opened the door to the exam room and sitting in the middle of it with a much prettier cushion than Buffy had ever seen on one before, was a metal slab with stirrups for her legs. It was the same kind that she had been placed on in that place. The light got very bright suddenly, washing out all the colors in the room, a loud buzzing in her ears. It was the same buzzing of the fluorescent lighting and the machines.

Suddenly, she couldn’t make herself move, it was like whatever connection her body had to her brain was severed. Somewhere far away Isabella and someone else was trying to get her into the room but she was the slayer and though Isabella was a head taller than her, there was no way she was going to be able to do anything.

The buzzing got louder.

Now Buffy couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t get her air in her lungs, it was like her chest had hardened and every breath was trying to break through. Any air she was getting felt like sand in her body, heavy and grainy. All at once the buzzing turned into a pounding in her ears. That was her heart going so fast she couldn’t understand how it stayed in her chest.

There were black spots in front of her eyes, and she could feel her vision start to narrow and blur.

She was going to die. She was going to die right here and no one would ever get to her.

All of a sudden the hands on her shoulders got stronger. Too strong no way twiggy little Isabella could be the one who was holding her like this.

“Beth? Sweetheart?” his voice was clipped and William-y.

Spike was holding onto her shoulders and speaking to her very calmly.

“Breathe for me, love, c’mon. slowly.”

She felt someone release her guts and she could breathe again. Just barely though, every breath still felt like it was a knife in her lungs.

“Take five seconds, pet, inhale, hold it. Exhale.” He turned away from her speaking to someone else. “Like that, doc?”

“Yes, Mr. Pratt.”

Buffy felt herself start to calm down. She was sitting on the floor in the hallway, Spike was looking at her alarm palpable in his blue, blue eyes. His eyes were dark blue not ice-blue like she always assumed. She had no idea how she had come to be sitting on the floor.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get here earlier, sweetling, I was caught up.” He was saying. His voice was too quiet for the others to hear him, but it was still soft and Williamy. She wasn't sure if she liked it better than the rough, Spike drawl.

Buffy couldn’t make herself reply just yet she was concentrating on her breathing.

“Mrs. Pratt? You had a panic attack, nothing to worry about.” Another voice said from above her.

Spike helped her to her feet and she turned to face a kind looking woman in her 50’s with silver hair and red lipstick. She looked impossibly chic. Buffy felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Isabella went to get you some tea.” The woman—Dr. Barrow—said. “I’m Dr. Barrow. It looks like we are going to have some work to do.”

“Work?” Buffy felt herself stammer.

“Panic attacks and stress like that are not good for your baby.” Dr Barrow said. “But you did do a bang up job of picking a place. Hop on up and we’ll see if he or she is in distress.”

“Distress?”

“Mrs. Pratt? Are you alright?”

Buffy was putting everything together in her mind. The Doctor’s words were becoming hard to understand, it was like everything was tilting and shifting and she couldn’t get to her feet.

“Spi- William, I can’t go in there.” She managed to get out.

“Mrs. Pratt?”

With conviction she didn’t know she had Buffy picked herself off the floor and basically sprinted out of the doctor’s office ignoring Spike’s cries after her.

She was outside on the street before she could make herself relax. Spike had shot out of there right after her and grabbed her hand tugging her into an alleyway.

“Summers, what the bloody hell was that about?” he demanded. Despite his harsh tone, he pulled her into the circle of his embrace, cupping her cheeks to get a good look at her face. “Pet? You scared me, I—”

Buffy had wrenched herself away from his grasp and backhanded him so hard his head snapped to the side.

“Bitch!” he exclaimed. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“I told you not to come!” she said angrily.

He gaped at her.

“Are you insane?” he demanded. “Woman, I peeled you off the sodding floor of that office! Are you telling me that you didn’t want me to come?”

Spike shook his head trying to shake away the fuzzies that accompanied her blows. After the initial shock, he registered the thunderous look on Buffy’s face, but more importantly he could see just how upset she was and maybe not all of that was aimed at him. She was shaking with the effort of keeping herself enraged. He softened instantly.

“Oh, pet, I—”

That was apparently not what she was looking for because the second he took a step towards her she sent him flying to the back of the alley way. She hadn’t hit him hard enough to do any significant damage, but once he had gotten up she was gone.


*****


The door to No.9 opened abruptly and then slammed shut.

Downstairs, Alex looked up from her perch on the kitchen counter. It had been loud enough that Raj heard it as well.

“That was quick.” She said frowning thoughtfully.

She and Raj waited for Spike and Buffy to burst in all glow-y and parental with a picture of blobby fetus and a new-found bond but the footsteps went upstairs and somewhere on the second floor Alex heard a door slam. She flinched.

“Upstairs?” Raj asked.

Alex nodded.

“Weird. Wouldn’t think the doctor’s office would be a major turn on.” She said.

Raj smirked at her.

“Doesn't take much with those two though does it?” he said.

Alex lobbed a kernel of popcorn at him from the bowl in her lap. He dodged it artfully and snagged a handful.

“One set of footsteps meant he was carrying her.” He taunted.

“Gross.”

“Oh, stop pretending you’re not thrilled.” He shot back instantly. He was standing in front of the stovetop waiting for the kettle to boil.

Alex cracked a smile. “It’s hard not to be. It was sort of a forgone conclusion for me that they would get there eventually.”

Raj shook his head. “They’ve been together since I’ve known them. I can’t really imagine them as enemies.”

“Only heard stories.” Alex said with a shrug. “But I’d imagine you replace all the shagging with fighting.”

"All the shagging?" Raj replied aghast.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

The kettle started to whistle and Raj set about fixing the tea. Neither of the Englishmen ever let Alex or Buffy do this part--although Raj was training Alex. He was enumerating the steps as he poured the liquid in the bone china cups when they heard the front door open again followed by a set of heavy footsteps. This time they approached the staircase to the kitchen.

“Spike?” He questioned with an arched eyebrow.

Alex jumped off the counter and looked concerned.

“Better fix a third cup.”

Moments later Spike burst into the room he was clearly checking if Buffy was around but he relaxed when he saw she wasn’t there. He threw himself into one of the chairs. Without ceremony, Alex set the cup down in front of him.

“She went upstairs a couple of minutes before you got here.” She said answering his unspoken question. “What happened? Did you miss her?”

“No. She had a panic attack at the doc’s.” Spike said wearily. “then was all piss and vinegar afterwards. Threw me into a brick wall for coming after her. Thanks for that by the way.”

Alex glanced back towards the stairs worriedly. “So you’re telling me you don’t have any news of my little sister.”

Spike shook his head. Raj joined him at the table.

“Did she break character?” he asked nervously.

Spike sighed and shook his head. “No, she didn’t say much. It was the real kind of panic attack, the hyperventilating and actual physical bloody symptoms kind not the scoobie slang kind. Not much talk, made a bit of mess though, don’t think we can go back there. I made something up about a traumatic experience in the States and they were sympathetic-like but she shot out of there pretty fast.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, mate.” Raj said reassuringly. “Dr. Barrow’s clientele is 90% coked-up party girls and BAFTA winners. I think she’s handled her fair share of crazy.”

“D’you think next time we can try getting her pissed?”

“To give the kid fetal alcohol syndrome along with the in utero PTSD? Good plan.” Alex said taking the seat next to Spike.

“Not the time, bit.” Spike snapped a little too harshly. Alex jerked back. It was clear he was worried and a little bit out of his depth. Which was not a common thing for a century old Master vampire. “I suppose women have been having babies without doctors and hospitals for generations.”

That seemed to pique Raj’s interest.

“Actually that’s a thought.”

Both Alex and Spike arched their eyebrows. Raj was taken aback at how identical the gesture was.

“What are you sayin’, boyscout?”

“No Doctors.” Raj answered. “I could try and find her a midwife, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. we could have her here, have a home birth arranged. Might be hell on the wall paper but--”

“Right we just get an un-vetted stranger to come here?” Alex demanded. “Will she bring a knife to bury in the yard to cut the pain?”

Raj rolled his eyes. “We can’t risk something wrong with the child and doctors are not an option.” He looked pensive. “I know some people to ask.”

“It won’t look suspicious?”

“Please, American socialites do all sorts of mad things. And midwives aren’t uncommon.”

Spike still looked skeptical but Alex looked a little more convinced.

“Actually that sounds like that could work. You should bring it to Buffy.” She said to Spike. He nodded but didn’t get up. “Like now. You should probably go check on her.”

“Don’t think she’s in the mood, bit.”

The damphyr shrugged. “are you saying it would be stupid to go and try and talk to her?”

He narrowed his eyes and then nodded.

“Funny, that.” She said flightily. “Not something you so much have a problem with. I’ll be in the training room.”

She gave him one last meaningful look and was off.

Spike sighed and glanced at Raj who was texting on the bulky brick of a phone he carried around all buzzing with the excitement and muttering things like, ‘can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.’ The vampire drained his own cup. Just as he stood to go see about the slayer. But before that, he paused, something occurred to him.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you—for all this.”

Raj’s head popped up, eyes wide. He looked like Spike had just punched him.

“I—er,” he was desperately searching for a witty retort or a quip but words were utterly failing him. “It’s nothing.”

“S’not.” Spike said simply. “And I appreciate it. You always have a place in my book, Raj.”

Spike never seemed to call anyone by their real name so hearing it now startled Raj. And neither men were wholly comfortable with shows or proclamations of gratitude and affection. The vampire let the moment land and then quickly ascended the stairs hoping he was making the right decision, but then Alex was right. He didn’t care if it was a stupid thing to do, Buffy needed him and that was what mattered.


*****


Simon Zhang had just finished preparing himself dinner in his brand new kitchen in his brand new apartment. Months ago this amount of luxury would have seemed impossible, but now thanks to the Project it was almost enough for him to not constantly feel terrible about the work he was doing.

He sat at the gleaming, never before used table about to tuck into his chicken when his computer ticked on of its own accord. It flashed a black screen with green writing. Despite no identification it was clear who was trying to speak with him.

R U Alone?

Simon shook his head. God, Raj was such a tosser.

U can always join in, baby.

He wrote back without hesitation, knowing that Raj would be able to read any reply somehow.

I told U we don’t need a Password. Safe word, maybe?

Zebra fish

Been thinking about this hav u?


Suddenly his phone rang, despite the fact that he was alone and he had checked his apartment daily for bugs he still jumped at the shrill sound.

“I don’t suppose you know a midwife?” Raj asked without niceties or preamble. “I’ve asked Bettina but she doesn’t know any independents.”

“Is this for the slayer?”

Simon knew that had to be what Raj was asking for. He wasn’t sure why he asked anyway. He felt the small ever-present knot in the pit of his stomach tighten. Suddenly the apartment seemed like a stupid thing to be happy about. He always felt guilty that he was a part of something that could do something as horrendous as what the Project did. Even if he was working against them he still ran their tests and analyzed their data. And cleaned their test tubes.

“For Buffy, yes.” Raj knew how he felt about this. Simon appreciated the lack of snide comment. He knew his friend was going against his very nature for that.

“Would this midwife have to know about…” Simon lowered his voice instinctively. “vampires?”

“That would be preferable, but then maybe we steer clear of the kind that think essence of nettle will purify the room and an elixir of a bezoar will prevent preeclampsia.”

Simon shook his head, the word midwife did tend to bring up those images, the woman he had in mind, however was not that kind of midwife.

"I know someone."

“It would be against the edicts of NHS.” Raj warned.

“She won’t care about that.”

“Seriously? And this isn’t some sort of witch doctor is it?”

“It’s my aunt.”

The line went quiet a while.

“Your aunt? I don’t know about getting your family involved.”

“She can handle this.”

“Simon, this is not exactly an easy thing I’m asking. If Genesis get their hands on her—”

“She survived the Red Army and the Cultural Revolution as an educated woman, Raj, they finally drove her out with the threat of bureaucracy. I’ll run the neonatal testing, she’ll do all the er… heavy lifting.”

Over the line, Raj sounded immeasurably relieved.

“Thank god. She can’t go to a doctor.” He confided. “They tried today. Disaster.”

The knot in Simon’s gut tightened. She couldn’t go to a doctor because of what they did. What he did.

“I’ll speak with with her.” He said finally. “you will bring this to them?”

“No.” Raj said. “You will. I think it’s probably time you met.”



*****



Buffy’s bedroom was a seldom used place. It was just another one of the bedrooms upstairs, it held her clothing but she slept in his room. IT was probably good for her to have her own space though, Spike wasn't going to begrudge her that.

He knew she could sense his presence before he entered so he paused before letting himself in. She was curled up on the bed, watching the rain outside her window. He expected her to order him to leave but she didn’t say anything. Spike suddenly wished he had brought her something hot to drink. That would have been the comforting thing to do.

Bugger, if he hadn’t already bollocksed this one up. he was about to awkwardly go downstairs and make some tea or hot cocoa, but she spoke.

“I’m sorry I hit you.” Her voice was level but flat.

“Not the first time, pet.” He took a step into the room. When she didn’t protest and approached the bed and sat on the end.

She kept her eyes on the view outside.

“I wanted to go alone because I wanted to know that I could handle it by myself.” she said. “I wanted to know that I could do what it took to take care of fetus.”

“Fetus? tell me that’s not the final word on the name.”

That made her smile a little.

“You aren’t in this alone, Buffy.”

She finally looked at him. “I know that. I’m not dense. I know I don’t have to, but I wanted to. I have always been able to rely on myself. Strip away my friends and my powers and god, I don’t know what else. I could still do it. I could do anything. Not anymore.”

Spike felt his blood boil. There was nothing in the world that could make him hate those doctors more but seeing Buffy like this, affected like this on a level he could not protect her from was as close as it could come. Unsure if it was the right thing to do he climbed into bed with her and pulled her close. She didn’t protest. They sat in silence for a while and for once, Spike knew better than to try and say anything. She would tell him when she was ready. Outside the window true night had fallen and the rain was petering out.

That gave him an idea. She needed to feel like herself again. He got up suddenly and pulled her to her feet.

“Get up.”

“Spike, what are you doing?”

“C’mon, Summers, we’re going on patrol.”

Her eyes widened, he could see how much she wanted to do that. She was a fighter, a hero, she didn’t wait well. Waiting was hell on her spirit already battered from their ordeal.

“We aren’t supposed to go. We agreed.” despite what she was saying it was clear she was eager to go. The sudden reappearance of the gleam in her eye told him he had done the right thing.

“Fuck it, Slayer, we’ll take the train to some place tucked out of the way. What we need is a spot o’ violence. I’m sure even the Minion is antsy.”

“Yeah, she’s dealing with mean girls at her school.”

“Guh, Spare me the details yeah?” he rolled his eyes but he was smiling, Buffy headed off to change already with a bit more spring in her step. It had been so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. then belatedly because he was distracted by the prospect of a good rough and tumble, something occurred to him. “Wait, are there boys at this school?”

Buffy laughed and lead him downstairs calling out to Alex and Raj to get ready. She didn’t answer his question.
Chapter 21 - A Spot of Violence by Petra
I know I'm late, but the next one will be up soon I promise. I just thought that the denizens of No. 9 Wilton Crescent needed a bit of a breather some fluffy fun before we move one. More soon!



Chapter Twenty-One – A Spot of Violence


Despite the fact that they were teeming with supernatural energy, the various cemeteries of Sunnydale lacked the cob-webby, mossy, general creepiness of their London counterparts. There was just something about them and how long they had been repositories for the dead that gave them a constant damp chill, even if said olde-worlde examples tended to be dead metaphorically speaking. Or at least the ones near central London tended to be, because Hackney was hopping.

Which was good because Buffy wanted to rip something apart with her hands.

They swept into the cemetery and Alex dusted a minion not ten paces from the gate and Raj had already been attacked twice. Counting this time. He was currently doing his best to fend off a vamp with holy water and his patented method of girlish shrieking.

Buffy had gotten the last one so she had graciously allowed Alex to call dibs. A privilege the damphyr was so rudely squandering.

“One more failed attempt on Raj’s part at smacking it with a cross and I’m contesting the dibs.” She informed the teenager.

“Lex, this isn’t funny!” Raj said from his place pinned to the ground. He finally got the leverage to knee creature in its balls and managed to scramble away. He got five steps when the famished vampire grabbed his ankle. “You can’t still be punishing me for Holland House!”

“I think I am the one who gets to decide that.” Alex said sitting on a head stone and toying with a stake.

“Lex, is this necessary?” Buffy asked trying not to look amused.

“One of my classmates is named Ampersand.” The damphyr countered, daring either super-being to contest her. “Not ironically.”

Spike rolled his eyes, strode over and grabbed the vamp off Raj who was trying to place the stake and keep the vamp off his neck at the same time. He made short work of the attacking vampire, plunging a stake into its heart almost lazily.

“Oh, c’mon it’s a minion!” Alex said. “He would have gotten there.

“Where there’s a minion there’s a master.” He said knowingly as he offered Raj a hand up. The younger man accepted it gratefully, and brushed the twigs and vamp dust from his clothes.

“Right then, will you keep your minions in line?” he demanded of the master vampire.

“Have we not just established that minions are inferior creatures?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck you! I’m a bloody miracle. I’m a gift from the powers that fucking be!”

“And I’m just a wee bit addled from all the nearly getting killed I’ve been doing.”

Buffy had been scanning the headstones hopefully for a few more punching prospects when something occurred to her.

“You can tell a minion from a regular vamp?” She asked Alex. “and also follow up: there’s a difference between minions and regular vamps?”

Alex arched an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah. What did they teach you in Sunnydale?”

“Vampires, bad, stake them.”

“Ahhhhh, life was simple then.” Alex replied with a sly smirk.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“But seriously I thought minions were just like fledges?”

Alex shook her head.

“Nah, fledges could be minions or childer, childer tend to be more precious, they are fed right away, trained—whole nine yards. They are turned to be family. Minions are turned for muscle or status so they tend to be weaker, less sire’s blood.”

She looked at Spike for affirmation. He looked impressed, so did Raj.

“What?” she said flushing a little.

“S’ about bloody time they taught you about vamps,” Spike said nodding approvingly. “Hierarchy and all that.”

“Huh, vampire hierarchy.” Buffy mused a little bit put out. “I’ve been a slayer for what 5 years now? They never bothered to make with the knowledge?”

Alex cut her eyes over at Spike. He lit a cigarette and shrugged.

“Don’t think the wanker’s council was too keen on teaching slayers about dynamics, better the vampires are a kill on sight prey.”

“Hey! I work for the council!” Alex protested. Then sighed. “or I did. They wanted to be sure we were armed with the knowledge of what we were getting into.”

“See, bit, you work for Rupes. And he has a head on his shoulders that he uses from time to time.” Spike replied and then noticed both Alex and Buffy’s incredulous looks. “Don’t go telling him that I told you that.”

Alex raised her hands in amused surrender.

Buffy chuckled knowingly.

“I knew there had to be some sort of bonding going on in that tiny apartment last year.” She said.

“There was no bonding, there was some chess.” Spike admitted, he had been kicking himself for bringing up Rupert and Sunnydale, a topic as of yet Buffy was rarely comfortable with. For once though it didn’t turn into a spate of moodiness. “But I’m glad to hear there’ve started teaching you chits what’s what.” He paused when he noticed Buffy’s appraising look. “what?”

“It’s just weird hearing you be huffy in the Giles accent”

“Why, pet? Is it getting all tangled up in your Jane Austen fantasies?”

“Oi, Spike? Lex?”

“Oh, like hell, Spike.”

“Jane Aus—oh gross.”

“Shut up, Minion.”

“I’m not your minion!”

“Guys?”

“What is it, Prasad?"

Instead of answering he jerked his chin towards five vamps in the distance who had just taken notice of them. He looked at them in panic only to notice the identical feral gleam in each of their eyes. Sometime the familial resemblance was difficult to deny.

“Ooh! Ooh! Mine!” Buffy yelled as she took off towards the vamp cluster.

Spike barked a quick order to Alex to stay with Raj before tearing off after her.



*****



He let her get ahead of him when she had called back a terse “I can handle it Spike.”

He knew she needed this, they had all agreed that patrol was not something that their could risk, but today was a special occasion. He was a warrior just like her, and he knew what they had done to him, what they had done to her, the helplessness of it was crippling and she had had another taste of it today. Insisting that this patrol was more than necessary was the least he could do for faffing around and not coming to her sooner.

She needed to feel like herself, and to do that she needed to remember that she was a fighter, fighting is what she did best. And it was true, she dusted the first vampire before they even realized it. She grabbed one by the shoulders and threw it into the other two and traded blows with the last. He got one good punch but it was clear that Buffy was toying with them. Fliting from one to the other like an expert plate spinner.

“Know that you got it, luv.” He said. “I’m here to watch.”

“Do you have to make everything dirty?” she tossed over her shoulder.

“I meant nothing of the sort.” He replied. “That would be all your nasty little mind turned everything around.”

Buffy turned to glare at him. The vamp took that moment to try and attack her from behind, an attack she easily side stepped. She caught its ankle to throw it off balance then, as it fell she staked it unerringly and it exploded into dust.

“You’re a pig, Spike.”

“Been singing that tune a little too long, Summers, know anything new?”

She snorted indelicately.

“Like you would knew ‘new’ if it smacked you in the fangs?” she said as the others she had tackled earlier awoke. She grabbed one, smacked it into a headstone which she then flipped over to kick the other in the face. She landed on the other side and surveyed the cemetery for the other vampire. “Would you like a collection of NOW – 98 Beethoven’s 9th Sympho-snoozefest?”

She made quick work of the other two dusting the one on the ground where he lay and taking out the other as he lunged at her. It was almost absent minded.

“The last one?”

“He probably ran away when he saw I hit like a girl.” She quipped. “One girl in all the world to be exact.”

She turned to him with that sly smile and Spike couldn’t keep himself back. He had her pressed against the wall, hands above her head. The cloud of arousal that was her response to his rough handling was just about his undoing.

She was a vision, her was flushed from the fight her hair wild and her eyes bright. He loved watching her fight, he loved what she looked like after she fought, the blood screaming through her veins was a clarion call.

“You are bloody magnificent, pet, you know that?” he murmured against her lips. “and I might have been thinking just a little bit dirty when I said I like to watch.”

Her smile was wicked as she wrapped her legs around his waist. And then she was kissing him and the world fell away around them. Spike was wrapped in her, savoring the taste of her, the smell that was uniquely Buffy: vanilla, spices, and violence. He was drowning in her and he never wanted to stop.

“Spike, Duck!”

Her tone was laced with enough slayer authority that he complied without thinking. The third vamp had reared his ugly face. Spike wanted to dust him then and there, still this vamp was the master and he was never one to shy away from a rough and tumble.

The slayer had gotten there first, she had launched herself off the tree and right into the other vampire catching him in the chest and taking quick advantage. She sprung to her feet a kicking his face in, once, twice, the vamp caught her third kick and spun her to the ground. Spike was about the enter the fray when he was pinned in place by Buffy’s pissed off glare.

“He’s mine.” She said.

“Yes, stay back!” the vampire exclaimed. “You killed my childer, I’ma enjoy draining you dry.”

He barely finished the sentence before Buffy round housed the fierce look off his face.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt?” she demanded.

She had punctuated each word with a solid hit. The vampire reeled, unprepared for the slayer onslaught.

“What are you?”

“Me?” she said. “I’m just a girl. Having some smoochie fun; which I’m not now and it’s your stupid fault!”

A few more jabs and a round house. The vampire searched frantically, clearly out of his depth. He turned and latched onto Spike.

“You’re my kind! Come and help me!”

The elder vampire was already puffing away on a cigarette. He shook his head. “Not when watching her kill you is this much fun!”

Buffy grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into a lion shaped sarcophagus.

“Blood traitor!” the vampire spat.

He managed to catch an elbow and bring her down. He lost no time in kicking her in the stomach. The blow was deflected but it knocked Buffy off balance. He turned his sights on Spike.

“You sniveling coward!”

Buffy tried to sweep the leg but the vampire dodged. She sprung back up and received a fist in her face.

“Letting your O-bag do your dirty wor—”

The word triggered something in him before he consciously made the decision, Spike saw red. What happened next happened so quickly one of Buffy’s killer right hooks met air. Spike was snarling in full game face. And the vampire was flying into a mausoleum.

“Don’t you—o-bag—” in no time he was across the clearing. There was a loud roar and Spike ripped the head of the vampire with his bare hands and it exploded into dust around him.

Buffy arched an eyebrow quizzically at him. “O-bag?”

Spike sighed. He knew there was very little chance of picking up where they left off, he wished he had made that stupid fledge suffer just a little bit more. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Where were we?”

He swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly. Spike was a good kisser, he knew he was a good kisser, he had training. When he finally broke away so she could breathe, she looked dazed for a second but managed to shake it away and smirk at him, clearly aware of what he was trying to do.

“You were just about to tell me what an o-bag is and why it made you go all Spike smash?”

Bugger. She clearly identified this as one of those vampire heirarchy things she'd been missing out on.

“Do you really want to discuss this now?”

“Sparknotes.”

Spike groaned inwardly. This was edging closer and closer to dangerous territory. He had up to this point been so very careful not to discuss anything relating to whatever it was that was between them especially anything that even remotely hinted at is vampiric nature. Unable to resist one more try at distraction he grabbed her ass and slid his hands up her thighs, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him unsupported by anything else. He nibbled at her neck with his blunt human teeth.

She let him do it for a minute and slid away.

“I get that I’m learning on a curve here, but I will not be deterred! resolve face.” She said matter-of-factly.

Spike sighed, defeated. Maybe the neck nibble she so loved was not the best move in this situation.

“An o-bag is just a vamp thing. It’s slang for—humans who like to take part in bloodsharing.”

She stared.

"Like--"

Bugger he had forgotten all about Finn. He hadn't thought about Finn in a millennium. He kicked himself for even coming close to reminding her about that. He cut her off hoping that she wouldn't dwell.

“S’not about the feeding , I suppose that’s part of it. It’s not even the needing someone. Vamp bites can be—good.” He finished lamely. Bloodsharing was a deeply intimate experience. That stupid word made it seem cheaper than it was.

“So while I’m out there patrolling the world to keep it from backsliding into the clutches of the hell-fire and eternal shadows these people are actively offering their necks up to vampires?”

Spike was unsure if she was actually upset or merely being quippy.

“Some people like a little pain with their pleasure.” Wide, hazel eyes flew to his and Spike couldn’t resist a little leer—hoping she would then laugh it off, or just smack him and get on with it.

Bugger. He’d been so afraid to breathe trying not to chase her away and all of his efforts blasted by some random fledge. He was so caught up in bracing for the worst he almost missed her next words:

“Show me.”


*****


Buffy was biting down on her knuckle to keep herself from crying out, she couldn't help it. Spike was an incredibly talented lover, but this was something he was particularly good at. His tongue was everywhere and nowhere; and she had no idea where it ended and his fingers began. It was all blinding waves of good. So much good.

She dug her fingers deeper into the wet earth and bucked her hips, unable to properly control her response. She could almost feel his smirk against her.

“You sure about this, pet?”

Hadn’t they established that? Buffy was suddenly very pissed that he was questioning her when he had must more interesting things to do with that mouth.

“Love?” he repeated. “Don’t want you playing kick the Spike later.”

“Spike,” she bit out in warning. God, anything she would say anything just to make him go back to what he was doing. She nodded wordlessly and he returned to her.

“So wet, Baby, so slippery for me. Hate to waste a drop,” he lapped at her soundly until she was almost crawling out of her skin with the anticipatiion, and then he slid three fingers into her body, he pressed his thumb against her clit and she felt his fangs burn as they slid into the soft skin of her upper thigh.

Her scream was enough to wake the dead.


*****


Spike was unsure how it happened but somehow he was in heaven. He could feel the elixir that was Buffy’s blood sliding down his throat, his demon purring at the satisfaction that came with pleasing the women it considered its mate. Spike had deliberately left the mating bit of the biting out of his brief explanation of what the vamp had been talking about. But all that was baggage he was sure would pop the magnificent bubble they were enjoying.

But he wasn’t thinking about that now, he wasn’t thinking about anything, couldn’t really. His world had narrowed to a single sensation and that was slayer’s blood. It made every ounce of pig’s blood he drank worth it.

He wanted to write poetry. Verses and verses about how she felt underneath him.

That Buffy was keening like a banshee under his fingers, holding his head to her thigh was enough to bring a man to his knees metaphorically speaking. As it was the trust she had put in him was staggering.

After a few pulls he licked the wound closed and returned his attention back to her core, laving at her relentlessly as she came and stroking the mark he had made knowing it would be an erogenous zone until it healed up. He and prolonged the aftershocks until she was quivering and boneless against him.

She lay on the grass unable to do anything breathe for a few moments.

“Wow.” She managed finally. “Just… Wow.”

He couldn’t resist a smirk as he crawled back up to press his lips to hers.

“But you didn’t—”

“I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.” He was about to say something else but the unmistakable sounds of a scuffle a little ways away interrupted him. “C’mon, let’s go see about Abbot and Costello."



*****



“Guh, Why do I even ask her why she’s wearing a skirt to patrol?” An irritated Alex asked Raj, they had known better than to stick around. “Because I’m going to have illicit smoochies in the bushes and then awkwardly pretend that I’m not having sex every five minutes. I hate supernatural hearing.” she paused for a second. “Do they really think they’re being subtle? Because if that’s—” she glanced around her, Raj was gone. “Wait--Raj? Raj!”

Raj wasn’t really listening, he was instead scanning the tombstones so intently that the damphyr was sure he was going to bust a vein or something.

He stalked out in front of her, she crouched and pinched his ankle in one fluid momvement and then ducked out of the way for his delayed reaction.

“ARGH AH!!!”

“Dude, if you don’t lighten up we’re going to stop letting you come to these things. You can’t fight if you’ve given yourself a concentration headache.”

“Easy for you to say, I wasn’t trained from birth in the art of slaying. I have to be ready.”

Alex, almost carelessly stuck her foot out and caught Raj’s leg. He tumbled to the floor.

“There’s being aware of your surroundings and then there’s being so focused on one thing that you forget to actually watch where you are going. Eyes and instincts, grasshopper.”

“This is extremely patronizing coming from a teenager.”

Alex smirked. “Trained from birth and all that. Make you feel any better?”

The look on his face made it clear what he thought of that.

“Make all the cracks you want,” she said with a shrug. She thought maybe she heard a rustle. “You’re never going to level up if you don’t listen to your training and your instincts.”

“You really think I’m all hacking and video games, don’t you? I am a member of the watcher’s council you know.” Raj said getting up and brushing dander from his jacket. “and I don’t have those instincts.”

That was definitely a rustle. It didn't sound like a vampire.

“Not yet.” Alex conceded shewas concentratingon the sound, waiting for it to betray its position. “but you develop them. Until then you have mine.”

Raj rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, and what are they telling you now?”

There.

Alex stopped and turned to him and blanched.

“Get Down!”

Without thinking Raj hit the ground. He babbled something about fully expected to scramble to his feet moments later to see her laughing her head off but he had ducked anyway. And it was a good thing that he did because Alex was face to face with a large angry as hell, honest-to-hellmouth demon.

It was massive and growling, it was covered in leathery armour-like skin. It was segmented, but with very smal gaps between plates.Alex swung her axe and managed to catch it in the shoulder near where the shoulder and neck met, but that didn’t seem to do much more than anger it. She did her best to wrench the axe out of the demon's flesh but it held fast and her momentary lapse in concentration cost her. With a swipe of the demon's arm, Alex was flying into a tomb stone.

“Shit.”

Raj’s exclamation caught the demon’s attention and it turned to him, Raj reacted quickly, shooting the bolts of his crossbow into the demon’s chest.

That didn’t seem to kill it but his distraction had allowed Alex to recover. She scrambled to her feet and procured a dagger from nowhere. She circled the demon trying to find a good opening to attack.

“Raj, do you know what this thing is?”

Raj was too petrified to move. Alex finally found an opening in its back and struck, the demon roared and tried to reach behind his back but Alex was too fast for it, she attacked savagely and then danced out of its reach.

“Haxil Beast maybe?”

“Did you just inflect? Was that a question?” she shot back incredulously.

“It’s a Haxil Beast! I'm sure of it!”

Alex was a blur, she may not be as strong as the massive demon, but she was way faster. It could barely keep up with her to smack her down.

“Do you know how to kill it?”

“Cut its head off?”

Alex had dodged a swipe of its claw and then another. Her dagger was looking pathetically small.

“Do you want me to shoot it?” Raj called to her.

“Clearly!”

“Don’t act like that’s obvious! I don’t have your instincts!”

"Quick lesson: if it's coming for me and you have a loaded shot take the damn shot!”

She pushed off a tombstone and flipped over its head to deliver a swift kick to its backside. The demon roared and tried to tackle her, it launched itself in her direction but she was gone a split second later, leaping up to vault herself off its head. She landed a few feet away but the demon apparently had a tail which whipped around knocking the damphyr back to the ground.

“Alex!”

“I got it.” She had sprung back to her feet.

“If you have secret future technology now is the time, Lex.”

She wasn’t listening to him. She dodged another swipe of the thing’s tail and it surprised her with a too-fast for something so big swipe of its claws. One of which raked across her left eyebrow. It grabbed her by the shoulders and despite all of her kicking she couldn’t shimmy out of its grasp.

It roared in triumph squeezing her harder and harder clearly meaning to do so until she popped. She renewed her struggling but to no avail when suddenly the demon’s snarls were replaced with a gurgling sound as a crossbow bolt came through one of its eyes.

It dropped to the ground, collapsing on top of Alex. She heard a loud growl and braced herself thinking that Raj’s bolt had not done the job when she felt the huge demon lifted off and Buffy was pulling her to her feet. She was engulfed in a crushing, slayer-power aided hug.

“I’m okay!” she called over Spike’s creative profanity.

He had found her axe and had been hacking at the dead demon, cussing up a storm that was three-languages deep and threatening it with redundant bodily harm.

“Are you okay?” Buffy demanded suddenly shoving her violently, and holding her at an arm’s length. She studied the younger girl with a practiced eye.

“Yeah, I had back up.” She said simply. She jerked her chin at Raj and looked proud. “Not a bad shot, were you aiming for its heart?”

Raj shook his head, He was still holding onto the crossbow, but his face had drained of blood. He was staring at the now definitely dead demon. Alex considered him for amoment before she was distracted by Buffy's fussing over her. She tried and not to look thrilled, but it was hard to keep the pleased look off her face even as she tried to give Buffy the brush off.

“Look at that, Whelp’s got his first kill!” Spike said finally leaving the peices of demon to steam in the chilly air and proudly clapping Raj on the back. “Haxil beast too, not bad.”

He paused to flash Raj an encouraging look and the younger man immediately threw up.

Spike stepped forward and around the puddle and blatantly ignored Raj’s dry-heaving.

“Couldn't aim.” Raj managed weakly. " I only got as far as shoot the big thing!"

Spike was studying the beast’s head impaled on Raj’s crossbow bolt. “Suppose there’s no arguing with that.” He turned and focused on Alex. “And you, what happened to all this rot about your bloody training?” He demanded. “I have half a mind not to let you out of your bloody room ever again! Scared us half to death you did.”

“We were handling it,” Alex said with a shrug, ignoring both Spike and Buffy's thunderous looks. Rolling her eyes Alex adopted a studied innocent expression and pretended to think. “Hey, where were you guys anyway?”

That seemed to shut both of them right up.

She smirked knowingly and Raj’s managed a weak smile. She handed him a stick of gum.

“So, I just saved your life.” He said accepting the gum from her.

The way he said it made her immediately suspicious.

“I gave you gum, I knew you’d probably heave at some point and I brought gum so keep that in mind for what you are saying next.”

“I saved your life; you have to stop whining about my school choices now.”

“Might I remind you of the gum?”

“It was my mother’s school!”

“It was a lucky shot.”

“One that, had I not taken, you would be demon food.”

“I would rather be demon food.”

“That is a gross exaggeration.”

“One of the electives there is flower arrangement.” She said. “Flower arrangement is a class! I could get grades in Floral positioning! In the aesthetic placement of visually pleasing vegetative sex organs.”

“I am so very glad she was born so that she can be the death of me.” Raj said turning to look at Buffy.

“I heard that.”

“I didn’t whisper.”

They headed off towards the exit arguing about Alex's ability to contribute to her Floral Arrangment Class. Buffy looked back at Spike and the small smile she had on her face spoke volumes on how patrol had managed to restore her. She was a warrior, she needed to feel useful, able and nothing like the shell that had stumbled out of their facility. She took his hand and lead him out after Raj and Alex. She didn't let go of his hand once he had caught up to her and she never caught the big dopey grin that flashed across Spike's face.
Chapter 22 - The Death of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce by Petra
Chapter Twenty-Two – The Death of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce

Wes jerked awake. It was dark in his room but that was common. The Angel Investigations Team kept odd hours so he had invested in black out curtains three days in. He felt around for his glasses and reached for his cell phone which was buzzing. He wondered why Angel would be calling this early in the day. He grabbed it, and stopped short.

It wasn’t buzzing.

Wesley stared at it.

The buzzing started again. It was the other one. With more urgency now, Wes reached into the fake book where he stashed the cellphone Raj had given him before he left London. It was a text from Alex.

Dr.=BAD but R has a plan.

Wes frowned. He had known that that was going to be a struggle. He had thought that bringing them to a doctor too soon would be bad, but nevertheless, Buffy was pregnant and doctors had access to things like ultrasounds and blood tests. It didn't make sense to not take her, but now of course he felt like an ass and a half for pushing her to make the appointment.

Also priority 1: code names. B,S,A,R,W=Maybe they will think we are the Men in Black.

Wes grinned despite his frustration. He could hear Alex's matter of fact tone and could almost see her arch a knowing eyebrow. It was making him wonder how he could have ever missed her parentage, he could hear Buffy three years ago in that message.

Very suddenly his clock radio pinged on letting Wesley know it was 10 am and beautiful in Los Angeles. Sunny and 72 degrees. Like always.

Despite knowing it was coming, Wes flinched at the sudden noise He knew that anything coming from that phone would be untraceable and encrypted. But any news coming from No.9 made him feel jumpy and guilty and a little doubtful that it had ever happened at all.

Spike, Buffy, Alex, and Raj were basically dead in the water, just trying to keep from being detected until Buffy delivered her baby. The baby that would grow to be Alex and was fathered by Spike, a soul-less vampire. Nothing too hard to comprehend, surely. And here he was 10, 000 miles away and the weather was sunny and perfect. Things for them were just going to get more and more dangerous. And he was thinking of perhaps taking a walk in the sunshine. He was a knob, no doubt about it.

Though hiding in plain sight was a genius move. And he was slowly coming to realize genius moves were common place around Spike and Buffy. He hadexpected as much from her. She had always been an immensely capable Slayer but Spike was the wild card. He supposed the vampire had to do something to earn his reputation and cometo think of it, Spike hadwiggled his way out of many a difficult situation. Wes would never have guessed Spike’s background, it was too hard to comprehend even after several duets heavily featuring Oxford drinking songs in Latin.

Wes had to give Spike credit for the foresight on this one. It made sense to keep his house as a safe house. With few properly written records he could hide his identity forever if he had to. Curious that he never sold it or let it just rot. He wondered if it was laziness or desgin that saved No. 9, with Spike he was never sure.

The vampire was a bit of an enigma, at times he was terrible at sticking to any plan--this was from stories he had heard of the bleached blond vamp from Angel and to a certain extent, Giles. He constantly undermined himself or was too impatient to wait, and almost always to his detriment. And yet somtimes, Spike was capable of a rigid discipline Wes could only dream of. He had heard stories of Dru and her inane mind-games. Spike had cared for her for a hundred years. He had taken down slayers--Buffy inclided. And through all of that, in a century, he had never let slip who he was and where he came from. Angel didn't even know his last name.

He started typing out a quick reply to Alex and reminded himself that he had to make a few calls to some contacts today. He had been back for nearly a week now and he hadn't tended to his mission: find a doctor to get rid of Spike’s chip.

He sighed, best get the kettle on.

He shuffled over to the kitchen to start the tea, Cordy and Angel would be reporting on their findings at the gym soon—evidence, maybe, to lead them to whoever was eating these young men from the inside out. He sighed and poured boiling water into a cup. It was hard to make himself care about Angel Investigations business— his job for all intents and purposes. Not when there was so much at stake halfway around the world. He grabbed the wheetabix and settled into his breakfast.

The phone buzzed again. Wesley checked his phone, it was Alex.

My Codename is Starbuck.

He stared at it puzzled for a second.

Sry. Spoilers.

Stop wasting your father’s money on nonsense. Glad to hear every1 is safe. Hellmouth updates to follow. Wes typed back.

When she didn't reply he went back to this breakfast.

He hoped Angel and Cordy’s fact finding mission was fruitful. He could use a case that was good and solvable to distract him from his lack of any traction on the chip situation. The fact that four people he was becoming very fond of were in essence sitting ducks until he could figure something out was not a milestone he wanted hanging around his neck for very long.

Pushing that thought away, Wes washed up and headed into the Hyperion, praying for something he could just kill with no regard for anything else. Spike was right on that count, sometimes someone just needs a spot of violence.


*****


She walked confidently thought the lobby of the Beverley Hills Hotel. She knew all eyes were on here, wondering who she was. She smirked and added just a little swivel to her step. She knew that all eyes were on her, wondering who she was—because surely a girl like her would be somebody. She loved knowing that all of them wanted her. They were intrigued by her, they wanted to get their hands on her.

All the attention went through her like electricity.

He spotted her before she got to him, but then he wasn’t wearing red leather pants. He rose to shake her hand, how many times did she have to tell him she didn’t shake hands.

She purred a drink order a the bartender who sputtered back at her. He was wearing white tie. God, she couldn't hold back the eyeroll.

Of course, Elliot wanted to meet her here, in a place where waiters were wearing fucking coattails in Los Fucking Angeles. This place was ridiculously opulent, it was all kid gloves and gray-haired women with jewelry so big it all looked fake.

And people accused her of being show-y.

Elliot looked at her with a mix of distaste and lust, he was outlining what he wanted her to produce. An Algurian Conjuring Sphere. He needed one and the last one that anyone knew of was taken by some GI in the Korean War.

He was offering her regular take for a search and snatch from some senior citizen? That went down easy.

Elliot was still yapping on about keeping in quiet and professional. This man really liked to hear himself talk. She stopping fiddling with the fancy swizzle stick that came with her drink.

“Elliot, I think maybe as the professional here, that I know what I’m doing,” she said cutting him off and emphasizing the word professional so she knew a few other tables could hear her. The color of his face was truly remarkable. “Listen, I usually change extra for complications—but this on isn’t going to be one of those right?”

“No.” he said tersely. “It isn’t. Just get me the sphere. That's all.”

She smiled sweetly.

“Great, I’ll just go ahead and take your word for it.” Her sweet smile evaporated. "But wait--that wouldn’t be very professional of me would it?”

He glared at her.

“I take your advice very seriously, Ellie.” She said. “Which is why I’m taking this—” she held up his watch which she had swiped when he tried to shake her hand. He needed to learn that she didn’t shake hands. “What is it called? Collateral.”

“That is a $ 12,000 watch.” He informed her in what he surely thought was an threatening voice. He reached for it and she buzzed him in warning.

“You’re telling me it’s an easy job, but if there’s something about it you aren’t telling me.” She arched an eyebrow. “Elliot, I’ll get cranky and This" she said jangling the watch. " becomes $12,000 of surrealism.”

She stood and started to walk away. She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “thanks for the drink.”

With that, she strode out leaving the businessman glaring at her ass with equal parts hate and wanting.

She smirked as she went.


*****


“I heard you were looking for a slayer! And so I have come here to slay you!” there was a short pause. “Because I’m a slayer. I mean THE! I'M THE SLAYER!”

Anya’s quippy one-liners needed work, clearly.

The demon bikers had made a bonfire in the parking lot, they had created a base out of ruined cars and over-turned semis. The scoobies approached cautiously. The plan was almost all flash and grab with Willow providing most of the flash.

Tara tried to block it all out and concentrate on Willow’s hands on her and the feeling of power flowing though the earth and into her girlfriend. But Tara was so worried about her it was hard to concentrate on the spells. The huge complicated spells that Willow was able weave together. Tara was impressed. She had no idea how Willow was channeling that kind of power.

Xander had shouldered the rocket launcher and fired into the bikers.

“Here is hellfire!” Anya bellowed. “that’s what you get for coming to my town, buddies! I mean evil, no-good demons!”

Anya tried to look menacing while yanking up the neckline of the frilly shirt she was wearing. The air around her shimmered and spun and it was suddenly Buffy standing up before them looking every inch like the slayer she was.

The explosion and sudden frenzy as the demons were thrown about. Anya was pulled down from the showy spot, her job done for now.

Tara re-focused on her chanting.

Giles and Xander circled back to the sacred circle.

“How are things coming here?” Giles asked.

Tara was able to lapse her concentration for a moment to catch his eye and nod. Willow was too concentrated on their part of the plan. Will was holding up the glamour and then magickally grabbing demons and slamming them down on the pavement to simulated a slayer-level ass whooping. It was not an easy thing to keep two spells going at once. Giles had offered to help but he could fight better than they could and they needed someone to open a can of actual whup-ass. Tara had tried but her abilities just didn't extend to what WIllow was channeling. So she lent her energy and as much of her life-force as she could, and Will had somehow managed to make it happen.

Still, Tara was worried as hell about her girlfriend.

Willow’s skin was coated in a cool sheen of sweat. Her hair was matted and the hands clutching hers were clammy. They weren’t so much holding on to her as they were clutching at her desperately as if Tara was the only thing keeping her grounded. Which she was pretty sure was the truth at this point.

Anya was running over. “I think we did it! They have scattered in a way that makes me think that they may be turning tail?” She looked to Xander for affirmation.

They all ignored that it was Buffy’s voice that came out of her mouth.

Xander busied himself with checking to see where the demons were going to. He looked over his shoulder and brightened instantly.

“She’s right!” he said sounding just a little bit incredulous. “I think maybe we did it! You did it, Will!”

Something happened, Tara wasn’t sure what, the glamour fizzled around them and Willow very suddenly through her head back.

“Will!”

Willow had gone rigid, her eyes were shut tightly. Her hands slipped from Tara’s and before the blonde witch could reclaim them Giles had put his hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“Willow?”

The red-head slumped.

Tara didn’t waste her breath calling out. She reached out to pull her girlfriend into her arms.

“Check for a pulse!”

Tara was already holding onto Will’s wrist. There was a pulse albeit a slow one. Tara could breathe again.

“Elevate her head!” Giles suggested.

Tara nodded. She was trying very much not to panic, but they had been expecting this. Tara just help her trying to ignore how clammy she was. After a few second that felt like hours, Willow stirred.

“Did it? Did it work?” she mumbled.

Tara had never been so relieved in her life. The sound of motorcycles was everywhere, going in all different directions, but at least most of them seemed to be heading away from the scoobies.

“I’m not sure how we managed to pull that off.” Xander said sounding like a weight had been lifted.

“We did it!” Willow said happily. "I did it! go me!" She looked absolutely blissful and then she passed out in Tara’s arms.


*****


It was a shapeshifter.

Wesley breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Angelus, it wasn’t a new player or some crony of Wolfram and Hart. It was, in fact, just as the doctor ordered: just an old man trying to re-live his glory days. With the use of something mystical he didn't understand. While it didn't give him much to kill, he had been able to beat on an evil version of Angel. But Wesley had, at this point, several apocalypses and LA rush hour traffic under his belt so he knew better than to jinx it by commenting on it in any way.

Angel was doing the thing where he told the bad-guy what he had done wrong and how he could have been better. There was just something tiresome about it. The old man lolling about clearly trying to find a way around the vampire and reclaim his sphere.

Wes was listening to the lecture when he heard Fred gasp and saw Cordelia tense. Wesley groaned inwardly. He managed to jinx it anyway . He quietly reached for his crossbow. Everyone was looking at a point over shit shoulder. He turned and took aim with the crossbow as he did so.

“Don’t move.” He said.

The person he said it to was quite possibly the last person he had been expecting. It was a gorgeous 25-year-old women in leather pants and—oddly enough—only one glove. Wes has time to note that that was strange before all the shit hit the fan, or in this case, the lamp. The room went dark. Presumably she was going for whatever it was she was after. Angel pushed passed him.

“She’s after the sphere!”

Someone had managed to find a working lamp and the room was flooded with light. The woman had lunged for the altar but Angel had grabbed her before she could reach it. She shoved him back with her un-gloved hand. The room was suddenly flooded with the crackling static electricity and the smell of ozone. Angel stumbled back but didn’t let go of her. The look on her face was somewhere between surprise and outrage. She shoved against demanding:

“Why won’t you die?”

But before anyone could intervene, the woman found a bit of exposed skin and both she and Angel stilled, looking at each other in shock. They seemed to have forgotten that anyone else was in the room.

Wes was about to cut in when he caught Marcus throw himself at the sphere out of the corner of his eye. He reached out to grab the man back, just as the woman’s attention turned from Angel to the two of them.

There was strange buzzing sound in his ear all of a sudden.

He heard Gunn yell. He turned to his friend but before he could say anything, I was like the world around him had turned into molasses. There was a flash and Wes felt like an elephant had stepped onto his chest.

Everything went black.


*****


It was a bad plan. They had known that when they had come to it that it would be slapdash and all-over the place but it drove away demon bikers and then it kept Sunnydale quiet for weeks.

Willow was washing her face. Last night’s patrol had gone long after they crashed right into a something or other beast-feeding frenzy. Willow had to let the glamour drop to try and focus on the demons. They had managed to get through mostly unscathed, a minor cut above an eye and Anya possibly broke her wrist. Which was just great because Anya was the easiest to glamour into Buffy and now the former-demon was saying all kinds of no to doing that again.

She splashed some cold water into her eyes and tried to blink away the sleepiness.

Now she was going to have to glamour Tara which would be much harder-the two blondes had completely different body types.

Had she always been this pale? The red-head leaned towards the mirror examining her features. She was paler than usual—actually the paler complexion looked kinda nice, pretty even. It made her eyes look huge and doll-like. Maybe she should skip the lipstick today, it was a little with the vampy. And no one liked vamp-Willow. She tilted her head. Hello, cheekbones!

On second thought, definitely lipstick, Buffy was always after her to try new looks and maybe for once she should actually try something new.

Smiling to herself, Willow flounced out of the bathroom over to the dorm she shared with her girlfriend.

Tara looked up from her psych reading.

“Oh wow! Are we doing somewhere special I didn’t know about?” she asked.

“I know right? I suddenly have all these angles and I thought maybe I should carpe some diem.”

“Dead Poets Society?” Tara asked curiously.

“Buffy Summers.”

Tara softened and then nodded.

“Well, it looks nice. A little Elvira of evening, but nice.” She said going back to her reading. "I like a vixen."

“You never met Vamp Willow I think you would liked her.”

She saw her girlfriend’s eyebrow quirk.

“The evil, leather wearing version of you? I would have more than liked her.” She said. “Although, it looks like a trip to the beach is in order.”

Willow nodded.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” She said. “I’m going to meet Xander at the Espresso Pump.”

“See you later,” Tara called without looking up from her text book.

“Love you!”

Willow closed the door and headed off out the door.

Shit, forgot to brush her teeth. Willow frowned and then did a quick cleansing spell in her head and felt a quick wave of magic run through her. Huh, genius, this way she wouldn’t have to worry about toothpaste taste in her latte. Awesome.


*****


Tara looked up as the door clicked shut. She couldn’t help but stare after her girlfriend. She looked pale and thin and a little bit gaunt and she thought she looked good. Could she really be that blind? Or was Tara just making something out of nothing? Being oversensitive to what was going on because she was worried about all the strain she was under.

Deciding that she had to stop diagnosing all her friends, Tara turned back to her reading and tried.


*****


It wasn’t like floating in in warm milk, which was, for some reason, what Wesley has always thought being dead would be like. Like being suspended in warm milk, softer than water and with that heavenly feeling of safety and well-being.

Nothing like that. One minute the word fizzes to blackness around him and the next a million volts jolt through his body, every nerve ending suddenly pulled taut. He felt as if he ran full tilt into a concrete wall and then bounced. Everything around him was exploding into riotous color.

His brain was every where and nowhere at once, he was six again, sickly and crouching in fear of his father and then sixteen gangly and awkward with all too much limb for his frame. And then he was back to himself, rigid and aching on the shabby linoleum.

Figures where coming to shape around him. Everything hurt except his head which was floating.

“Wesley?”

Her voice was what was able to cut into a disorientation so palpable it felt like gelatin around him.

Her eyes were brown and warm, like honey and tea. Had they always been so pretty wide and sweet. She was always so loopy and fragmented and float-y and now she was at the center of the universe. She was his center, the just sort of clicked into place in front of him, the only thing that made sense.

“Fred?”

“Wes!” She looked so delighted to hear his voice. He liked delighting her. He wished she would smile like that more. Maybe she did smile like that a lot and he simply didn’t know that about her. Maybe she smiled like that to other people.

“Guys, He’s up!”

Did they even fully know how smart she was? It was so strange to think she had missed five years.

He should answer her. She was looking for him to answer her. She was so happy he was back, and she was looking at him as if he was someone and it had been so long since he had been looked at like that. So delighted that he was there. Him, the braniac side-kick.

“Winifred?”

“Hi, Wes,” She said. “I’m gonna check your pulse, alright?”

Numbly, Wes nodded. He felt her fingers so acutely, it was like they were sharpened into points.

“Sounds good, Do you know who’s president?”

“Er, president?”

“Oh RIght, they don't have presidents in Britain. Do you know who's Prime Minister? Do I know who's Prime Minister?"

Wes forced himself to focus. Stop the world from spinning around him for even one moment.

“Was anyone able to catch that girl?” he managed to get out, his voice was croaky. “The one that was afflicted with some form of electrokinesis, Do you think she can deliberately control it?”

“Well, sounds like the brainparts and priority centers are intact.” Cordelia’s voice said from somewhere to Fred’s left.

“But that doesn’t mean we don’t need to get him to the hospital. Stat.” Fred said sounding slightly panicked.

The others swam into focus around him. As did Marcus’s depressing little room; Gunn was holding onto the old man by the arm. And Angel was holding onto the girl who looked equal parts confused and astonished.

“Not so fast!” Angel said as the girl tried another maneuver to escape his grasp. He was using one of Marcus’s tatty blankets to insulate her.

“Eliot is so screwed.” He heard her mutter. She struggled to find purchase against him and slammed her foot back. Angel merely shifted to accommodate her. He replied but everything had gone dark around the edges.

He felt himself slip.

“Angel, we have to go to the hospital.”

Her voice wrenched him back from wherever it was he was going. He snapped back to himself to catch that the electrokinetic girl clearly saw her chance, she slipped out of Angel’s grasp and bolted.

With the last of his strength Wes grabbed her ankle and held her back.

“I think you have something of ours.” He bit out.

Across the room Angel vamped out, showing her what she was dealing with. She hesitated and Cordelia plucked the stone out of the electropath’s hands and shoved her out the window. Wesley’s world went black.






Author's Note: More soon! I have the next chapter already half finished! So send me reviews! they feed the muse. ;)
Chapter 23 - Call the Midwife by Petra
Hello All!
Sorry this one took so long but it is nice long juicy chapter with new characters and Spuff smutty fun! This one took forever to write that I actually wrote the next few bits before I finished it. Stay with me now because the next few chapters will be coming up soon.
>Petra

Chapter Twenty-Three – Call the Midwife

The trip home was torturous.

All she could think about was Spike and his face when she told him to show her just how good a vampire bite could be. The look on his face while he drank from her would stay with her for the rest of her life. That worship, that wonder, she hadn't felt anything like that since Spike had been her Willow sponsored Fiance. Part of her, a very quest part had been angry because of how good it felt to have someone look at her like that.

And that was just when she told him. Everything that came after, Buffy was trying so hard to imprint every memory in her brain she was almost resentful of the pleasure he was giving her. There had been a split second after her blood hit his tongue, a moment when he had looked up at her, his golden eyes unconsciously drawn to her face. Her world stopped and she wished she could live forever in that second, that second split between drowning in the unguarded awe in his eyes and the sensation so indescribable she felt like she had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces all flying apart with the force of her orgasm.

Holy shit.

And now, the bite mark was tender. She thought it would hurt but it didn’t. The opposite in fact, any light brush against it sent a jolt of good through her so intense she had to bite back a whimper every time. Needless to say, her panties were soaked.

Everything felt electric, her muscles felt good and raw. Her blood was pumping from the carnage, his bite mark aching to be touched. She had never been so horny in her life.

And Spike, the fucker, knew it. He kept looking at her with his blue eyes, all dark and stormy and it was just way too easy to flash back to those eyes when they were golden and boring into hers just before he shoved his tongue into her so hard her hips had shot straight up off the ground.

“Buffy?”

Raj was trying to get her attention. He had an idea for what to do with the front room. Buffy couldn’t make herself concentrate on what he was saying. Thankfully, The train jolted unexpectedly sending her flying right into Spike.

Dammit, lack of concentration!

Arms of Spike. She was suddenly hit with a wave of Spike smell. Leather, cigarettes and that note underneath that was tart and sweet at the same time. It was intoxicating. Why was it suddenly intoxicating? Had it always been this intoxicating?

He held her for just a minute too long before setting her at rights. He let his fingers just brush his mark over her skirt. Buffy’s mouth went dry. She had thought her leg pressing against the mark was good, Spike touching it slammed her back in time. She could feel the grass beneath her, cool against her over-heated body as Spike drawing it out of her--blood and climax and possibly her soul. His fingers made her feel so many things at once that she was sure she had been levitating.

She almost came right then and there.

As it was, her inner walls clenched and she felt every nerve-ending in her body tingle. She held onto the pole with both hands, as it suddenly was all she could do not to throw down and ride Spike into oblivion right here on the Victoria line.

They had taken a roundabout way back to No. 9. By the time they crossed the threshold Buffy could barely restrain herself. Thankfully, both Raj and Alex made themselves scarce. She had completely forgotten that they were there.

Alex gave them both a scathing, long-suffering look before she headed upstairs. Buffy heard a tell-tale blast of loud music coming from her room before the door was slammed.

Buffy had barely turned around to face him before his lips were on hers, her hands were in his hair and she felt complete again.

“God, I could smell how much you wanted me, baby, do you know how hard it was not just take you away and fuck you into the bloody ground?” He murmured in her ear.

Her legs were around his waist one hand held her in place, the other slid sensually against his mark.

“What-why-so good.”

Spike’s smile was cocky. “Told you it could be good.” He slipped his hand between her legs. “So wet for me already. God, Summers, you are going to be the death of me.”

They stumbled towards to stairs, unable to hold off even until they reached Spike’s bedroom. Spike made it two steps before Buffy bit down on his shoulder and Spike, slayer of slayers, Master Vampire of the Aurealian line, tripped. He only just managed to turn so Buffy fell on a heap on top of him.

“Fuck, I—g-Buffy?”

Out of her mind with lust, nothing was registering in Buffy’s fevered brain beyond: horizontal now.

She had decided not too long ago she was going to do something they hadn’t tried yet. While Spike was still registering the fact that they were on the stairs Buffy had slithered down between his legs, Pulled out his cock and took it into her mouth.

The look on his face went from surprise to utter worship.

Buffy had never loved doing this, she had not had much practice. She had tried with Parker but that had turned out so badly that she had been too discouraged to ever bring it up with Riley. And she had never had the opportunity to do this with Angel, but then he had been incredibly restrained throughout their time together, their one time together, he had barely even moaned. But Spike was so open with how good she felt. His hands massaged her scalp, desperate to be touching her, murmuring suggestions, and just making strained helpless whimpers.

God, it was hot to hear Spike, a being she had seen decapitate a vamp with his bare hands a few hours ago melt under her ministrations like so much butter.

“Buffy!” he cried helplessly. “Darling, Oh Fuck, Sweetheart, just like that!”

She relaxed her throat muscles and was able to take him all the way in. His hips bucked up into her mouth. Spike was moaning encouragement, so carried away that he wasn’t aware just how little sense he was making. It was all coming out in disjointed words and noises. She bobbed up and down on his cock, holding his hips down as she went, feeling the straining muscles of his stomach under her hand.

“So…fucking beautiful… perfect.”

At his half coherent suggestions, she reach under his cock with her other hand to play with his balls.

“Gahhh!”

Buffy pulled him all the way out of her mouth she teased his head mercilessly all the while enjoying Spike’s incoherent begging.

“God, Close—going to—Buffy—”

She took him all the way in a few more times, swallowing around him like she had read about. She could feel him stiffen under her. He had tried to warn her but she was surprised to realize she didn’t need him to, she was in control here. She swallowed around him again and hummed.

Spike came so hard he couldn’t even cry out. He arched upward, his mouth fell open in a soundless scream. Buffy watched him fascinated. Every muscle in his body went taut. She swallowed him down, not letting off until he was slack beneath her.

“We didn’t make it to your room.” She informed him as she made her way up the stairs to lay against him.

“Can’t—pet, I—sentences.”

For once she got what those stupid romance novels talked about. Spike, a vampire for over a century, brought to his knees desperate and begging for her. There was something oddly empowering about it.

He lay there boneless for a little while, Buffy propped her head up on her hand to watch him. He lay there his eyes closed in utter contentment. He looked boyish and sweet almost, his harsh edges softened over by the contented smile and the golden curls he tried so hard to hide. Buffy reached out to gently tousle those curls when her hand was caught in a vice like grip. A single blue eye opened and met hers, it was stormy and dark with lust.

“Already?”

With a fierce growl he picked her up like she weighed nothing at all and made for his room.


****

Spike woke in the small hours in the morning, there was a faint noise from outside. He untangled himself from Buffy’s arms despite her half-asleep protests.

Before this whole ordeal if someone were to tell him that he would willingly extract himself from Buffy’s bed he would have laughed in their face--being in her bed for one thing, all the rest, he still didn’t know how to think about that. His life was split into two, before and after Genesis the same way it hand been split into his life and his un-life. Neither resembled what came before even remotely.

He could hear the soft treads on the stairs so he grabbed a shirt and a pair of drawstring pants before heading down himself. The first few times he heard the rustling from outside his door he had been on high alert, but quickly realized that the sounds were muffled and faint even with his sensitive vampiric hearing.

There was only one person it could be.

Alexis was already sitting at the fancy new kitchen table Buffy and Raj had just installed. She was swimming in a large knitted sweater. Her hair hung down around her shoulders, a few shades darker than his own. He had been a little disappointed when she had come back with darker hair instead of the crazy fire engine red that--he'd like to think--was a tribute to his own signature bleached blond. He knew it was wise seeing as how they had to lay low, and while he didn’t miss the actual bleaching process, he did miss the impression it made.

He studied her for a moment, even naturally she looked nothing like his baby sister Alix. Alix favored his mother, ash blond and dainty. She had been a traditional English miss, tall and sweet and softspoken. Nothing like Alexis who was tiny, powerfully made, but beyond, that there was an aura about her, and edge to her that read slayer to anyone paying even a little attention. Even when she was just sitting at a table reading a battered paperback book.

It still stunned him that some version of Buffy had cared for him, loved him enough to name her only child after someone he cared about. And here was this girlchild, looking back at him with his own eyes.

“Harper Lee? They have you reading American literature? Some school that is.”

“It’s not for school.” she said. “I just like it. Found a copy in a bin at Kitty Corner Books. I find it…. comforting. Have you read it?”

Spike nodded. The first night he had discovered her in the kitchen she had been reading Charles Dickens and trying to make Swiss Miss in a sauce pan.

The Swiss Miss was watery swill but Dickens had been a particular favorite of Spike’s. The vampire had always enjoyed the poetic justice in his books, so they sat and they talked about Nicholas Nickleby. She asked him about boarding schools and Victorian era punishments and ended the night trying to figure out how to work the coffee machine until Raj, up for work, entered the kitchen and had to teach them before they blew something up.

They then proceeded to Oliver Twist. Spike didn’t even broach the subject of her insomnia until a fortnight later when it happened two days in the row. She was having nightmares.

“I read it when it first came out.” he said.

She raised her eyebrows, “You keep saying shit about being the Scourge of Europe, and all you ever do is brag about being bad, and you’re telling me you spent your days sitting in your evil lair or whatever reading about racism and discrimination in rural Alabama?”

Spike smiled ruefully.

“No, sometimes it was reading Hayim Bialik while duck-footing with the gestapo.”

“Rebel.”

Spike studied her for a moment and then decided that he had done enough dancing around it.

“Was it the same dream?”

Alex paused. She was already ready with the next quip but he had thrown her off balance.

She shrugged and looked away, “It’s not so much a dream as the feeling that comes with waking up, cold sweat, the whole shebang.”

One would think that reserves of hate have to end somewhere, that at some point it has to be too much. Spike knew something about too much to handle, he spent his formative years with Angelus, after all. But he hated Genesis even more than he hated that wanker, he had thought that it was all encompassing and that he could not hate anything more than he hated this, and then he found out his daughter was having nightmares about what they had done to her. And he bloody well found more space.

He wanted to know what her dreams where, he remembered his vividly enough, but she wouldn’t tell him even if he pressed, this one would have to be coaxed. So instead he asked:

“Cocoa?”

A century of vampirism had not prepared him to prepare a meal of any sort; and before that he was a gentleman and was, therefore, unwelcome in the kitchen. But Spike was nothing if not a fast learner and these late nights had awoken old half-forgotten memories of nannies and hot chocolate.

“Uh-huh.”

It didn’t happen every night like his and Buffy’s nightmares, there were good days where she wouldn’t make a peep, But it happened enough that they kept her up through a box of that powdered swill. As soon as he put it in the trash Spike decided he was going to get some of that good stuff.

Spike turned to watch the girl, this little changeling creature in front of him.

She had gone back to her book. She was a little thing, but then he was not the tallest and Buffy was a lot of slayer in a small package. Despite her stature she had large, laser-blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing. More than ever it struck him just how alike they looked. Every time he thought that she couldn’t do anything to look more like him she would open her mouth and Buffy’s voice would pop out.

“Looking forward to chocolatey goodness.” She said. “Where is this one from?”

Spike checked the tin.

“Nicaragua.” He answered. “got it yesterday.”

“Marshmallows?”

He showed her the bag, warming embarassingly at her excited smile.

“‘M not that evil.”

Spike had been fixing the pan full of milk in which he was dissolving the chocolate with a little sugar. He smiled at her request remembering when he had made a similar request of Joyce a few years ago. In his other un-life.

While he puttered around he felt her eyes on him.

“Where do you get the money?” she asked.

“Money?”

“the House, the bills?” she nodded towards the tin of chocolate. “the single-origin chocolate beans? Fancy-shmancy and from Harrods, right?”

“Where’s this coming from?" He asked thoughtfully tasting the chocolate to decide if it needed more milk. It did. He added a little more. "You worried it’s coming from hapless victims?”

Alex arched an eyebrow. “because you’re out all night having headaches at them? please. I’ve just always been curious about it. How to vamps do taxes? Or get driver’s licenses? Everything's coming up databases, and records so how do vamps get by the whole born, died, legal whatsamawhota? Or do all of you just live off the grid?”

Spike just stared at her for disapprovingly.

“What? worried it will ruin the mystique?”

“No. Wondering what sort of hell you grew up in that drove you to create 'whatsamawhota' and then say it all straight-like.”

She smirked and folded her arms across her chest.

“All the greats made up words.” She said simply. “Was the whatsamawhota way easier in the middle ages when you were still a fledgling?”

Spike short her an amused look but didn’t rise to the bait.

“Computers’ve made it more complicated. S’not just about bribes and forgetful solicitors. But the long and short of it is, had most of the dosh already,” he said. “Didn’t have much need of it while I was-er—travelling with Dru,” He eyed her carefully but her expression didn’t change. “So it just stayed with the bank, under my family name. S’not the same here as it is in the States, there are all sorts of ways of keeping things discreet under entail laws. Especially here in England where the first son gets everything. And Bromley is a meticulous bugger so he took care of pretty much everything. ”

“You weren’t the first son though.”

“First son and only surviving son are the same thing, bit.”

“Right… sorry.” she looked awkwardly down at her book and marked the page where she left off. “Bromley’s still around then?”

“Well, he was squatting in the carriage house for a bit, went off to Camden somewhere once Raj moved in. He waits until you and Buffy aren’t around to slay him and pops in to update me on his activities.”

“People he’s killing?”

Spike rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Where do you think I keep getting bagged blood?”

“Wow, he’s lazy as shit isn’t he?”

Spike shrugged. “Nope, Not all vamps are trying to get gold star of evil like ol’ grandpappy and I think Bromley’s never been overfond of gore. Gets on his cuffs and collars.”

“Harmless, finicky, vampire minion--weirdly useful. Good call on that one.”

Spike nodded and tapped his nose. “‘M nothing if not a good judge of character.”

The chocolate was dissolving well. He stirred absently as he thought about Bromley, thought about that night when he said to take care of the house. He had never told Dru he had kept it, and when he met Angelus it became clear he never could. It was just the thing that wanker would be all over. And truth be told he had been keeping the house around mostly for its memory, but it was nice over the years to know it was there, waiting for him when he really needed it.

He snapped himself out of his reverie, the chocolate was smooth. This was always a tricky business, knowing when it was done, but Spike decided sooner rather than later so he doled it out into two overlarge mugs. They were new--two large American monstrosities that looked more like bowls. They were nothing like the delicate porcelain he was accustomed to--or had been and had become accustomed to again. Buffy must have found them somewhere. She was always sashaying out in the sun returning home with odds and ends. He brought them over and sat across from Alex.

“School alright?” He asked. “Buffy said something about mean girls.”

“No, nothing I can’t handle anyway. Work-wise though it is redundant and I could be so much more of a help around here.”

Spike didn’t acknowledge her hopeful prod and instead waited for her to continue.

She stalled by taking a sip of her cocoa. “Hello Nicaragua, this is way better than that Colombian stuff you got last week.”

Spike arched an eyebrow he wondered why she was being evasive about school. Sod that. If he wasn’t going to be able to ask her about her nightmares he could ask about school.

“The chit at the counter said something about caramel notes. So, that was a yes on trouble in school then?”

Alex looked a little exasperated that he wasn’t taking the hint that she didn’t want to talk about it.

“I grew up at the Slayer Academy it’s a bit different, and Holland House is all about petty competitive baloney. All fight and no fun.” She said after a prolonged pause. “I never thought I’d describe the Academy as fun. There was a lot of line-of-fire bonding going on.”

Spike frowned at that but Alex shrugged it off.

“I guess the unity and mutual respect that comes with demon hunting is what I’m missing. All that adventure does something.” she said. “Holland’s got none of the camaraderie that comes from apocalypses.” she smirked at him over her cup before adding: “Multiple.”

Spike drank from his own cup.

“No need to brag, bit,”

“Only a little bit of one.”

“It ain’t nothing but a family thing, bit.”

“It just feels stupid to whine about high school sucking.” She said. “I’m not dead and or in a place that could make me dead, I can handle anything the Middleclones throw at me.”

At his look of bewilderment she smiled a little.

“Spoilers.”

“So you’re sure you don’t want me to eat any of them?”

“I’ll get back to you.”

“Right, human, chip, I forgot.”

Alex smirked. “No, I’ll get back to you. I’m sure at least one of them has to be some sort of demon. Last week one girl, Poppy, threw a fit because the parking wardens had impounded her Maserati and she would have to go fetch it from south of the Thames. And she didn’t know how to even go about that. And to comfort her another girl, Jossy, offered to have her chauffeur take care of it because it was his half day and it was going to be in Brixton anyway." She took a sip of her chocolate. "And then she had the warden deported.”

“And they say I’m evil.” Spike chuckled. “Someone had a child and named it Jossy? It boggles the mind.”

“Do you see now why I never tell you anything?”

“So this is where everyone is.”

They both looked up, surprised to hear another voice. Both were standing in fighting stance in the time it took for the speaker to finish their sentence.

She was standing in the doorway wearing his old silk dressing gown and carrying a lethal looking axe.

When she was like this, it was impossible for him to tear his eyes away from her. She was fierce and powerful and somehow gorgeous whenever she wasn’t trying. Even with her hair rumpled from sleep it tumbled down around her shoulders in ways that made him want to run his hands through it, her face was unguarded, like for once the weight of the world wasn't on her shoulders. She was radiant.

He tried, valiantly, not to think of her as his. But it was unavoidable.

Something in him, a long forgotten politeness perhaps, made him open a chair for her. He wanted, desperately to reach out to her, trail a hand casually about her shoulders, but he stopped himself. He wasn't sure how she would react and he was worried doing so might snap her out of the wonderful little shag bubble they were in.

“I woke up and you were gone.” She said to him snapping him out of his reverie.

“Sorry, pet.”

“No big.” she said as she dropped the axe casually into the umbrella holder and joined them at the table. She slid into the chair without comment. “And there were voices down here. What’s going on? pyjama party? Why are you guys up so late? or--” she glanced at the clock. 4:38 AM. “So early?”

“Vampire.” Spike said at the same time Alex said: “half-vampire.”

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up at the likeness. Spike tried not to look to pleased, Alex rolled her eyes at him. Buffy took advantage of his distraction to grab his hot chocolate.

“Hey!” the vampire protested weakly.

Alex handed him hers and he shot Buffy a dirty look. Buffy gloated for about a half second until she tasted the contents of the mug. Her whole face changed and she looked down at it in awe.

“This is amazing where the hell did this come from?”

“Nicaragua.” Alex answered matter-of-factly.

The look on the slayer’s face was enough to make Alex snigger, which triggered a few chuckles from Spike which set Alex off into a full blown belly laugh.

“What?”

That seemed to make them laugh harder though neither of them knew why. There was something about the small hours of the morning, the encompassing silence that makes little things seem absurd, things that would never have been funny in the daylight. Spike had always secretly loved this time of day, when it was only him awake. In his other life, this was his favorite time to read, or hunt or just walk the streets.

“You guys okay? Is there something stronger in there?”

“It’s—just—your face, pet.” Spike tried to calm down but it didn’t seem to be working.

The moment had passed and the mirth was subsiding and Alex finished with a few stray giggles.

“I just--I can’t--” and it hit them then that nothing was really funny, nothing that could be replicated anyway.”

“Where did this stuff even come from?”

“We went through some of that swiss swill in that box with that chit on the front.” Spike said yanking his mug from Buffy’s hands and glancing down at his own share un-surprised to see it vastly depleted.

“And the Colombian stuff.”

“Little bitter, that was.”

“This is better.” the damphyr agreed. “African origin next time?”

They clinked mugs and both took a quick drink.

“You two sound like you’re talking about drugs.”

“Spike’s been buying fancy chocolate from Twinings.” Alex explained setting down her mug. “I told him about origin coffee they do the same thing for chocolate.”

“So sorta talking about drugs.” Buffy replied sliding her seat closer to Spike. “Is there any more?”

Her tiny movement didn't escape the vampire, and he fought to keep the gooey smile from spreading across his face. He wordlessly handed his mug to her, lingering just a ttad longer than he had to and letting his fingers brish her hand. She smiled at him shyly and turned her attention to Alex.

“So why are you up?” Buffy said settling into the chair and taking a sip.

“Right, pray tell, nibblet.”

Alex had not missed the exchange, because of course she hadn't, but she didn't comment. She did hesitate before answering, clearly weighing her options and deciding how to respond to the question.

“It’s nightmares.” she said and seeing the hackles rise in both the supernatural beings in front of her she quickly added. “Don’t freak out. It’s not every night and I’m getting better and being back here and going to school is making things better!”

Spike was watching his slayer. He saw the warm aura of Buffy disappear the instant Alex mentioned any trouble.

“You’re having nightmares?”

“Not every night.” Alex muttered suddenly embarrassed. “and not like you guys.” off their looks she sighed. “Raj told me about them. But I don’t even remember mine, sometimes I just wake up in a cold sweat and I don’t want to go back to sleep for a while. And usually it’s late enough that it can just chill a little before school. But it’s not that often.”

“At least enough to go through six swiss miss packets and however much Colombian chocolate.” Buffy observed. “Lex, I’ve been through this. The contents of your dream could be really important. Like this one time I was dreaming about lizards with weird poisonous breath going Godzilla on Sunnydale and we thought it might be a slayer dream. I had to write everything down! Any detail can be important.”

Alex was suddenly very interested in her coffee mug. “It’s not a big deal, its just waking up back there, sensors attached to my head while they slowly made the room go from very, very cold to very, very hot. Making lacerations on my arm to see if they heal faster than ones on my back, that kind of thing. And also the food.” she shuddered. “Not so much with the fun but nothing like you guys--”

Buffy was unable to keep the horror from her face.

“They didn’t--do anything like that to you.” It was almost a statement. “Alex, tell me that right now.”

“No. It was all endurance testing I swear. And they took blood a lot.” she replied instantly. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything! It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Alex--”

“No, Buffy, I’m out. You got me out. Spike nearly had his head cave in to get me out. You have nothing to freak out about or be sorry for. My school is shitty but I’ll be able to write a book someday maybe. They are just nightmares. They will go away eventually. For now I have Nicaraguan hot chocolate and First World Problems.”

Neither of them bothered to ask her what “First World Problems” were, it was pretty self evident. After a few minutes of silence Spike spoke.

“Right then, well, it’s almost light, maybe try and catch a little bit more rest before you head out later in the morning, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She said. She handed him her mug to be rinsed in the sink and turned back to Buffy. “So were the real? Your slayer dreams?”

Buffy looked at her confused for a second before realizing what she was asking. “Wha? oh, nahh, it was hellhounds loose at the high school that week.”

She didn’t see Spike and Alex exchange amused looks behind her back as they all trooped upstairs. And No. 9 went dark for another night.


*****

Buffy woke to a vague feeling of being late for something. The room was lit by a red-gold ribbon peeking out from under the heavy drapery of Spike’s bedroom. Buffy stretched and slid off the bed. Spike didn’t stir, the vampire slept like a rock sometimes.

She wondered what time it was and why vampires were so damn technology averse that Spike didn’t even have a freaking alarm clock. It was clearly later than usual, most mornings the weak London sunlight barely penetrated.

Despite the gloom, she navigated expertly to the wooden stand where Spike hung his dressing gown. Sometime in the night he had taken hers from her room down the hall. It was a silky kimono she had found in the kind of expensive store she hadn’t seen since she was living in LA. It was cool against her skin, but it warmed quickly. Buffy found a hair tie in the robe pocket and fastened her hair into a messy top knot as she slipped out into the hall.

It was brighter than she was expecting, one of the handful of sunny days in London. Despite the rare sunlight, it was cold. She was glad she had pushed to keep the soft Victorian runner than covered the parquet floor. She squidgy her toes in the soft silk plush. One thing she would say about fancy houses: nice carpets.

She shivered. The silk kimono wasn’t going to be enough, she figured she should go to her room and put on something warmer.

As she walked down the hall she wondered why she even bothered with the charade of having her own bedroom, she spent all of her time in Spike’s room anyway. It had never really ever felt like her room, just a place to keep her clothes. It was large and had windows facing out towards the second floor--first floor--patio. It had been Spike’s mother’s room.

Come to think of it, that was probably why she felt so weird about. She knew what had happened with Spike and his mother.

It had been a month now since they arrived at No. 9 Wilton Crescent. A month since that night where all the things came to head at once. Spike’s past, Alex’s future, Raj’s family, Wesley’s plan, everything. The first day at No. 9 had been an insane blur of no one wanting to broach the dam holding back the deluge of everything until inevitably Spike had rolled his eyes and made them face it the insanity of all the planning. Which started out rationally but quickly devolved into various shouting matches (Alex and Raj) and hidden day drinking (Spike and Wesley) and through it all, all she could think about was that for the first time in over a year she was safe. She could breathe.

She took a very long bath, ate an obscene ammount of carbs and caught up on all the Dawson's Creek she had been missing.

And for an instant her life was perfect. And then, very quickly, everything hit her at once. She was safe but she was also pregnant and still the slayer and having monkey sex with the baby-daddy who was a master vampire. They had been in disaster-mode pretty much since that first day the lights went out and she and Spike had made a break for it. And now, here she was sitting in the after.

The next day held a flurry of activities, Wesley headed back to LA, Raj pulled some strings at a school called Holland House and Buffy sat for an entire day in delicious boredom picking through the wreckage of the parlor and sitting in her room, the one she had picked out the night before.

When they had arrived it had been gloomy and not a little depressing, it had been Spike’s mother’s room. It was the first thing she needed to change. She had gutted it and replaced everything, painting the walls a sunny dandelion yellow and adding color to all the harsh paneling and fancy chairs. She redecorated it and made it her own and then never slept in it. But it gave her something to do, something to focus on so she wouldn’t fall apart. Working on this made all the other stuff easier. She went antiquing and went to every cute little boutique she could find and bought tons of things to update the decor and general feel of the house.

No. 9, this house, she loved it with a stupid kind of clarity. Everything in her world was murky and complicated so it was incredibly soothing to just be unabashedly excited about something. She had always thought of herself as a California girl but this quirky London townhouse somehow clicked into place for her.

She pulled on leggings and the kind of comfy sweater that shoudl would never wear back in Sunnydale. The clock next to her bed read 2:00 PM, so late night pyjama party did a number on her. These days she almost always woke early. The little planner she kept told her she was supposed to call an antique book dealer regarding the many valuable mint condition books they had weeded out of the untouched library. She wondered if she could still do that considering how late it was getting.

First things first: Lunch.

Her room had been her first project, the largely empty downstairs area had been her second. Now she and Raj were working on the ruined parlour. They had Raj’s entire Watcher’s library to fit in there, so they were going through all the stuff they had tagging things to sell at auction. Working for a fancy auction house was also a fitting career for a bored young wife of a reclusive aristocrat, so Raj faked an arts degree and the first estate she evaluated was theirs.

As soon as she hit the first floor, however, all her senses went into over drive. There were voices in the kitchen. She was on alert immediately. The rare book dealer was instantly forgotten.

It was too early yet for Alex and Raj to be home.

She made her way silently to the coat closet to grab one of their swords, cursing herself for leaving the battle axe in the kitchen. She made her way down soundlessly and edged her way towards the brightly lit room. She needn't have sneaked. Raj was sitting facing the doorway and he smiled and waved her over. Across from him sat a man Buffy didn’t recognize. She tensed immediately.

“Buffy, this is Simon.”

His warm tone made her feel instantly silly for the panic and she hurriedly hid the sword behind her back and pasted on the brightest smile that she could muster. She wondered who the hell Simon was.

“Annabeth Pratt.” she managed to say without tripping over herself.

Simon had jet black hair and almond shaped-eyes. He looked like he was about 20. Very cute, she wondered if maybe he was the reason Raj never talked to them about girls.

“You’re Buffy?” Simon asked.

Hearing her real name rose her hackles further. She lifted her sword, if he knew who she was, he probably knew what she could do with it. “Who are you?”

Simon wasn’t even looking at the sword. He was studying Buffy, with a strange clinical fascination. Buffy stared him down, tensed, waiting for him to make the first move.

“I’m so sorry.” he said.

That was… not what she was expecting. But then she had been off balance since someone new was sitting at her dining table. Buffy arched her eyebrow. “For what now?”

“My name is Simon Zhang.” He said. “Raj asked me to help find you a midwife. ”

The didn’t answer her question, but then Raj was always apologizing for something or other. It might just be a British trait.

“He did what?”

Raj who had been watching the exchange finally stepped forward with his hands up, the universal signal for ‘Don’t hurt me’. “Buffy, please don’t freak out.”

“Raj, you arranged for a midwife? Tell me why you thought a guy was the correct way to go about things!" She said. " Holy Shit. Did you think I'd be okay with some guy poking around the goods? Do you think Spike will let this guy anywhere near--” she paused. "Any sensitive areas?"

“I will explain my thinking, Buffy, but er, just one thing first?”

“And what is that?”

“The sword?” Simon spoke up, Raj shot him a grateful look. Simon smiled and physically pressed the pommel of the sword down so it hung at Buffy’s side.

The Blonde rolled her eyes. “Raj, You’ve lived here for a month. You think I can’t find a way to kill you that isn’t a sword? You’d already be dead. Now, spill!”

“Comforting as that thought is,” Raj said with a sigh. “When Spike said that the doctor-route was a no go. I thought this would be a better idea.” He paused. “You know? for the sake of the children? All of whom will probably be a fan of their Uncle Raj who is able to protect them because of his possession of all of his limbs.”

Buffy relented only slightly, her eyebrows set at a hard line. “You don’t mean this guy do you? because I thought a midwife was sorta gender specific. Sorry, should I call you midhusband?”

“It’s not me who will minister to you.” Simon spoke up. “It’s my aunt.”

“Right, where is she?”

“She’ll be here in a few minutes.” he explained. “Raj and I thought that it would make sense to arrive separately so that she could not be connected to him as if you found a midwife on your own.”

Buffy was considering him carefully, mindfully never letting go of the sword at her side.

“Cloak and dagger much?”

“Well, given your situation--”

“What do you know about our situation?”

“Everything.” Simon replied calmly. “I’m Raj’s inside man. I work for the Genesis project.”

Buffy’s insides went cold. It felt like everything in her world was happening far far away and her head was too big for her body, but before she could properly react Simon had vanished in a black blur. Confused, she was about to ask what had just happened when she realized Spike had come downstairs and he had slammed the dark haired man on the counter. Simon was grasping at the vampires hands but Spike’s grip was a vice. Simon was slowly turning blue. His hands started to flail around him blindly grasping for anything help. There was a sudden splashing sound punctuated by a growled: “bloody hell!”

“Spike!”

Buffy was at Spike’s side in a second. His hands were covered in superficial healing burns. Simon was holding onto the counter like it was a lifeline, he was holding a small silver crucifix in his left hand.

Raj had gotten up from his chair and had to physically get in between Spike and Simon to talk the vampire down.

“Get out of my way, Prasad!”

“Spike! Calm down! He’s not one of them! He’s not! He works for me!”

“Oi!”

“Really? Right now you want to make an issue of that, Zhang?” Raj demanded. “When you’ve just provoked a Master Vampire?”

“He attacked me!”

“He won’t hesitate to kill you if you keep dropping that bomb like it’s some sort of dramatic punchline, Wanker!” Raj warned. He then turned back to Spike who was watching the exchange while Buffy tutted over his hands. “Forgive him. He works for the Project and used to report to my father. Now he reports their doings to me. He’s helping us. He’s the one who told us about Alex.”

“Alex?”

“the Package.” Raj shot over his shoulder.

“It was an Alex?” Simon said. “A person. Of course it was a person. Fuck Prasad. Your life is messed up.”

“Alex is a girl.”

There was a spark of recognition in Simon’s eyes.

“Eve.”

“Eve?”

“We call her Eve.”

“That's my daughter you are talking about, asshole!” Spike roared, He made to lunge at Simon but Buffy held him fast.

“Okay, everybody just stop!” Buffy’s voice cut through the chatter with all the authority of the slayer. “Raj, make with the ‘splainy.”

The Englishmen all shuddered a little at her interpretation of the English language. If the situation hadn’t been so tense it may have fostered kinship.

“Simon is my friend, the one I told you about who feeds us information? He warned us about their knowing our whereabouts. He told us about the package in Germany. The only reason we knew they were keeping you was Simon. He’s the one who told my Dad about their er- questionable goals.”

Simon shifted uncomfortably under the slayer’s scrutiny.

“Made it seem like a happy little summer project.” He mumbled.

That seemed to calm Spike down. Buffy considered Simon for a second and then nodded to a chair.

“Sit.” She turned and deposited the sword in the umbrella holder. “Raj, coffee. Spike, are you okay?”

Spike nodded but his attention was on the Asian man sitting across from him. He was studying Simon with his laser eyes. Staring him down more like, Buffy rolled her eyes and went to fetch the first aid kit from the training room. When she returned with burn gel and gauze the room was still and silent. She gave Simon the stink eye and started working on Spike’s hands.

The coffee maker was the only thing to break the silence. After a few moments Raj handed around mugs. He had included milk and sugar for Buffy. She accepted it gratefully.

“You work for the project?” Spike asked Simon, his voice making it clear he was skeptical. “And they let you know things?”

“Yes.”

Buffy was still wrapping up his burned hand in the gauze. “This isn’t that bad. What did you do exactly?” She asked directing her attention to Simon.

“It was an experiment, I wanted to see if the crucifix would make holy water.” Simon said. He showed them a silver crucifix he was wearing around his neck. "It's blessed by the pope."

“Experiment a lot of vamps do you?” Spike asked coldly.

Simon's expression darkened and he looked away.

“That was what I was apologizing for. I had no idea how the research would be taken.” he said fidgeting a little. “I was only told about an interesting internship that paid well. Ravi suggested it for me.”

Spike seemed to relax at that. Buffy finished up with his hands and turned to Simon.

“You’ve been helping them this whole time.” she said. it wasn’t a question.

Simon nodded tentatively. “Raj and I go way back.”

“You told him that Alex was there.”

Again, Simon nodded. “I try and let him know whatever I hear around the lab.”

It hit her then that Simon, this regular kid with no powers and no real connection to this world, knew how dangerous these people were and he knew first hand what they were willing to do with human beings and he was defying them anyway. He was, in his own way, fighting the good fight. And his information had lead to their escape. They probably owed him their lives and Spike had nearly choked him to death. He finally looked her in the eye. She held it for along moment and she nodded once. And she tried to convey she realized what he had done, what he was doing.

“Thank you.”

Simon stared at her, flabbergasted that he would be let off the hook so quickly.

“Little young to be a doctor aren’t you?” Spike’s voice cut in. Stupid Vampire.

“Spike!”

“What? He looks like he’s going to start a computer diary while bad synth pop plays in the bloody background!”

Now that her Florence Nightingale duties were over she ignored the vamp. “You said your aunt was coming to midwife at me?”

There was a sudden noise. Everyone in the room tensed except Simon.

“Was that the doorbell?” Buffy asked nervously.

Simon arched an eyebrow.

“You’ve never heard your doorbell?”

“I’ll get it.” Raj said.

“No.” Spike said quickly. “The whole point is not to link either of you with the midwife. Pet, you should go.”

Buffy glanced from one face to another and sighed nervously. “Right.”

She walked up the stairs wondering what a midwife would even be like when she opened the door she had to look down to see who it was.

Buffy was unaccustomed to people being shorter than her, but this woman was. She barely cleared 5 feet, had a severe face, and her chin-length iron gray hair was perfectly turned in at the ends.

“You must be Buffy, You may call me Mrs. Cho.” She fixed her dark eyes on Buffy and the slayer felt herself shrink a little. For a second they stood like that, Buffy had no idea what the woman was waiting for. Finally, after a small cough from Mrs. Cho, Buffy regained her wits. She stepped back wordlessly inviting the woman into the house.

“This hallway is very dark, you are pregnant. You must have sunlight. Tell your husband to open these windows.”

Hearing Spike referred to as her husband was enough to make even a bewildered Buffy giggle, but she had barely let off a noise before Mrs. Cho turned and fixed her with a fierce stare.

"Do you have a husband?"

Buffy felt her back straighten and her mirth subside instantly. There was something in the dark eyes of this woman that made her afraid to disappoint.

“I’ll tell him. He’s, erm, downstairs.”

"Where is your ring?"

"Uhm..."

But she didn't have to answer that. The tiny woman ploughed on.

“Already more than 12 weeks in an no ultrasound. You should have had one at Fifth week. We must do this now. We are going to have to have it here. Where is my nephew? Simon? Simon!”

She was fast, she had crossed right passed Buffy, who was watching her in sort of a daze, and marched down the stairs. Buffy followed her helplessly.

Simon jabbered at her in Chinese and followed it with a bow that Mrs. Cho barely acknowledged.

“I am Mrs. Cho.” She announced to the room. “We must get started immediately. It is already long overdue. You,” she pointed at Raj. “You heat water for tea. You,” she pointed at Spike. “You get towels. Simon, is the machinery ready?”

It took each of them a second to realize that they had been given orders. Mrs. Cho stared them down until Raj sprung up to the tea abandoning the coffee and Spike busied himself with pretending he had an idea where the towels were.

“I set it up in the training room, Auntie,” Simon answered quickly and gestured to where he had set up the mobile ultrasound.

She nodded once. “Good.”

She reached into the carpet bag she had with her and pulled out a strainer filled with dried herbs that smelled like rotting pickle juice and old seafood. “brew this.” and then she took Buffy’s arm efficiently steering her towards the door.

“You are lucky that your health is good, look at those ankles! We are already behind,” she said. “Simon will make tea, you will drink this tea, all of it. If you do not I will know. if you forget once I will know, you will drink at least one cup everyday. You will not play with it or slosh it around the side you will drink it.” her orders continued as she lead Buffy down the hall. “I know all of the tricks.”

The slayer nodded dumbly unsure how to even respond to this woman.

“Good.” Mrs. Cho said simply. “Everything we do, we do for the baby. Follow me.”

As she allowed herself to be lead away Buffy heard Raj lean over.

“Is she for real?” He asked.

“Better brew that tea, mate.” Simon replied. “She keeps impossibly magnificent roses in her backyard and I’ve never met Mr. Cho.”

******



Author's Note: Let me know what you all think! More soon--I know I promise this all the time but actually this time! Reviews feed the muse so get in touch, guys!
Chapter 24 - Enemies, Foreign and Domestic by Petra
Chapter Twenty-Four - Enemies, Foreign and Domestic

Death is beeps. High pitched regular beeps. As far as a mystical Afterlife it was quite the disappointment.

Or at least that’s what he thought before he realized his mouth was fuzzy and everything hurt the way it hurt after 72 hours of staying awake. In retrospect he was glad death wasn’t an empty void filled only with intermittent beeping.

The sound was coming from his heart monitor, Wes realized. He wondered if he was meant to find it comforting; hearing his heart go after hearing it stop, but he felt oddly detached from that. Right now, it was reminding him of that time he got shot last year. Maybe the hospital had some sort of two for one special because this was becoming ridiculous. Wes was suddenly very grateful to David Nabbit for talking them into a group health plan and working out payment options, there was no way he would be able to handle any sort of financial issues right now.

Wes tentatively opened one eye and then the other. He was on a standard hospital bed, hooked up to an unsettling amount of machinery in a plain, utilitarian room that was painted that odd shade of seafoam that—it seemed—all hospitals were painted. It was an identical room to the one he had had last year except for the curled up form of Winifred Burkle in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed.

“Fred?” he rasped. It came out as barely even a sound, the girl didn’t even look up from the book she was reading so he tried again.

“Fred?”

This time, the words came out in a low croak. She started, and glanced up fearfully, searching the room wide-eyed for what had made that noise. Wes felt for her, Pylea had left some deeply ingrained reflexes. She looked very nervous when she didn’t find the person who had called her but relaxed into a smile when she realized that it had been him who had said her name. Emotions flashed across her face at breakneck speed, scared, from unsure to petrified and then embarrassed when she realized that there was no threat and she was being paranoid.

She was reading from a very large book on Supercolliders. Wes squinted at it, just reading that title made his head hurt.

“Mornin’” she said sunnily. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Like I’ve downed 8 of Lorne’s Sea Breezes and then got struck by lightning.”

She grimaced. “You’re absolutely right about the lighting part. But it could be worse, couldn’t it?”

Wes did his best to smile back at her but only managed a slight tightening of his mouth. She was right, “I could be dead,” he grinned a little more readily. “again. I suppose I’ve earned the exclusive right to say “again” now. Remind me to ask Buffy what that’s like.”

Fred wrinkled her brow.

“Buffy like Angel’s ex? the um..”

Wesley blanched. Of course, no one knew anything about Buffy and his involvement which was a critical component to its success. Perhaps he should try and refrain from joking around while on medication. “The dead one. Right.”

Fred looked uncomfortable for a second like there was something difficult she wanted to say and then thought better of it. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a second and then Fred brightened her mind latching on to something to do. “D’you want me to maybe call a nurse? You’ve been through complicated surgery--or what amounts to it anyways, a nurse could maybe get you more morphine if you like.”

Morphine sounded lovely, but Wes fought the impulse. Instead he turned his attention to the book she was reading.

“Superconductors--” he had apparently read the title wrong before. “The Cold Facts. reading up on our electropath friend?”

Fred nodded.

“Gwen Raiden.” She supplied. “That’s her name. When you died-ah, sorry--passed out the first time she had shocked you with enough voltage to stop your heart and then channeled more to start it again. They still needed to inject you with adrenaline and keep you for observation and…” She trailed off looking hesitant. “Well, here we are.”

Wes smiled weakly and she returned it with her own too-bright grin. He wished she would stop doing that it made him very acutely aware of how awful he looked.

“She’s fascinatin’ because she physically doesn’t make any sense. But then again, nothing in my life has made very much sense since I was sucked into another dimension, which really shouldn’t be possible but then Angel is a vampire and they aren’t possible either, so really This is just sorta par for the course when you--”

He could see she was about to go into one of her crazy ramblings and to protect the wall from sharpie marker he interrupted her. “Did she take the sphere?”

“The mystical rock thingy? No. Cordy grabbed it. Angel went after Gwen Raiden which was probably a good move because her client-guy tried to kill her with an elevator. But Angel saved her.”

Wesley felt his hackles rise at her dreamy expression. The thought of her thinking about Angel like he was some sort of swashbuckling avenging hero made him angrier than he could properly process right now.

“Anyway, that all happened last night. We’ve been takin’ shifts watchin’ over you.” she said. “I should call and let them know you’re up.” she stood up, but didn’t immediately go to the door for the phone. Wes wasn’t sure if it was something to do with him or if after years of being without it, the phone still made her uncomfortable.

“Fred? What is it?”

She hesitated for one more second and then came to her decision.

“Aw, hell,” she said sitting back down on the chair. “What’s death like?”

Wesley stared at her unsure if he was amused or disturbed. “death?”

“I know how it sounds.” She said blushing a little. “But I’ve always wondered--I used to watch those shows with my mama, when I was little. I don’t remember their names but they were like: ‘I shouldn’t be alive’ or ‘close encounters with the Afterlife’ and I always wanted to know if people actually do find out what happens and no one wants to ask em. But then I never had the chance to actually ask anyone and then--well, when Pylea happened I figured I’d know for myself soon enough and now, I-- I -I--I guess I was just wonderin’.”

She fumbled for a second and took his momentary silence badly.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, just forget it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me I-I-”

“No, Fred, I was thinking about it.” he interrupted. He was very suddenly desperate to keep her there—he very much didn’t want her calling the others. “It was nothing and then it was beeping, I’m afraid. But I believe I was merely unconscious. I may’ve only been dead for a few seconds and those I don’t remember. There is simply an unbroken line of time between grabbing for Miss Raiden the first time and waking up on the floor with my teeth aching. Do you know if she can control all sorts of electricity?”

Fred shrugged.

“Only Angel really talked to her and I don’t think they went into the details of it which is a shame really because its fascinating--” her face fell a little. “but then I guess if you’ve had to deal with being fascinating your whole life you might have other things you want to talk about. She sure seemed to be fascinated with Angel.”

Wes studied her for a moment. There was clearly something amiss with Angel and this Miss Raiden. He would have to speak to Cordelia about it. Fred was fidgeting, her earlier spark of fascination had dwindled and now she was clearly uncomfortable and unsure what to do about it.

“Listen, I’m going to see about getting you something to eat, alright?” she said brightening again, it seemed she had latched on to something she could do. “And I should really let the gang know that you’re up. I have orders from Cordelia.”

It struck Wes very suddenly that this may be the longest Fred’s been away from her room in the Hyperion. At least it must be since they brought her back from Pylea. She had ventured out of her cave to watch over him. The knowledge warmed him considerably.

“Fred?”

She had just been about to pop outside but she turned back smiling expectantly and Wes was at a loss for words. He, Angel, Cordy, and Gunn have been fighting together for years. She barely knew him and she stayed anyway.

“Thank you.” he said sincerely. “for staying here.”

She walked back to his bedside and shoved her hands in her pockets.

“Just, if you could please just not die again, that would be nice.”

Wes chuckled.

“I’ll try.” he replied. “But in my line of work…”

She ducked her head and nodded.

“I’ll call the others.” she said. “Stay away from sockets.”

She left the room and Wesley to ponder just how far Gwen Raiden’s powers extended and if, perhaps, she had any experience with microchips.


*****


Dara Laird was in deep shit. And she knew it.

Just as everything was coming together it all blew up. Epically.

Martin had known it was going to happen. He had tried to warn her. He had tried to tell her that trying to keep William the Bloody in a cage was a fool’s errand. He reminded her that the vampire had: ducked the bloody American Military machine fer god’s sake. And while we’re at it that slayer’s beat them back.

And she hadn’t listened to him. All her theories were coming to fruition and it was difficult to give any credence to nay-sayers when one has achieved the impossible, no matter how much sense they were making. The slayer was pregnant, Simon had found the key: replacing slayer antibodies with hybrid ones. Humans didn’t work since they simply succumbed when the vampiric cells invaded and the slayer’s magic seemed to work down to a molecular level, attacking the vampiric cells and purging them. But they had done it. A human pregnant with a vampire, it was a breakthrough of epic proportions. Not to mention the hybrid she had produced mystically. It was the only hybrid anyone had ever heard of--and she had checked. Every dimension.

Everything had clicked into place, and then someone slipped up, and suddenly everything was hell and high water. Her subjects had escaped taking her hybirds and stealing the Eve. And now she had the mother of all spanners in the bloody works.

She stared at the video feed. She had, of course, already seen it all. All the footage they had of the three people who held the key to her life’s work. There was only one burning question to answer that would bring it all back.

Who the bleeding buggering fuck was helping them?

She rewound the tape and pressed play.

Even in the midst of the cluster fuck created by her trigger happy comandoes she could make out the golden brown head of William the Bloody as he teetered off the edge of one of the train platforms. The slayer and Eve were too far to reach him, but an arm shot out of the crush to pull him back. She could just make out who the arm was attached to, but brown hair was not a distinct feature.

She rewound it and pressed play. glaring at the screen as if looking harder could make out more details about the person.

Nothing.

On the far side of the screen she could see a split second of fire-engine red hair flash as Eve pulled another person onto the train.

They had a team. There was a team that had boosted them out of the Newcastle Facility. But who was it?

It took all her strength to put the remote controller on the table instead of throwing it at the television screen.

They knew all this already. There was no new information on there. They had a team, at least two other people helping them. It wasn’t the Council, there had been little talk of Buffy Summers except as a cautionary tale. The newest slayer was much more malleable and vicious. She was much more to Quentin Traver’s taste, so if they weren’t helping, who was?

Dara switched the tape. The blatant flaunting of Eve buying tickets was an obvious ruse. They had followed up with the train of course, but it had been for nothing. Prague was no help either, none of William the Bloody’s contacts had been tapped. They had to be on the continent somewhere, They were scanning all the ports of departure and arrival.

she had been concentrating so hard on the crowd behind Eve that she didn’t hear the door to her office open. She jumped out of her skin when she heard Martin Woll’s voice in her ear.

“Dara, you are six different kinds of dead.”

“Good Lord in Heaven!” she exclaimed. “What is the point of a receptionist if wankers like you can just push in! Andy!”

Andy popped her head in and looked sheepish. “He waited until I headed off to the bathroom.”

“Thank you, Andy.” She said pointedly. The girl nodded and disappeared.

“Your good lord will have nothing to do with it.” Woll said bitterly. He was holding a flask. Vodka if she knew him.

And just like that, she suddenly felt truly awful. Martin Woll had been her mentor since her years in Durham. He was on this project because of her, and now he was drunk at 1 in the afternoon because she had pushed their IT department too hard one night to crunch pregnancy results and testing and someone had managed to slip through the cracks and make the whole bloody thing crash. They had lost everything.

“Could you take care to announce yourself next time?” she demanded primly before she could stop herself.

“These people you brought into bed with us, Laird, “ Martin continued after a fortifying swig of his hip flask. “They won’t just kill you. they rip apart your soul. They come for everything. The will kill anyone you have ever met.” he sank into a chair and took another long drink. “Why did I leave Durham?”

His leg shot out to kick her desk overturning the one photo she had framed on it. The photo was of a pretty girl, dark haired and smiling for the camera on a bright spring day. She was holding a diploma. Dara righted it.

“Your graduation was wonderful, perfectly lovely.” he slurred. “but perhaps the people whose contract extends post mortem should really take precedence in your attention, hmmm?”

“It is taking precedence.”

The room was tense already but the sharp trill of the telephone actually sent the drunken Martin Woll crashing to the floor. Dara waited for the commotion to be over and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Dara,”

“Hello.” she said.

“I hear that you have lost our slayer.”

Her blood went cold. Who had told on her?

“There have been complications.” She said carefully.

“Don’t toy with me, Ms. Sutcliffe.” the voice said silkily over the phone. “You know who I work for.”

“I do. I will have something to show for this.” she said. “The slayer was not my only plan. And I go by my mother’s name. Laird.”

“Ms. Laird--”

“Doctor Laird.”

There was a soft rather patronizing chuckle at the other end of the line.

“Feisty now, just wait until we show up at your door. There is a status meeting in two weeks.”

The line went dead.

“Doctor Laird.” Martin huffed, mimicking her tone exactly. “cheeky.”

Dara ignored him. She had a fortnight, some dessicated remains and blood samples. She had to make something work in two weeks or she had to find the slayer.

She glanced at the picture on her desk and took a deep breath.

“Right.” she said. “C’mon, Martin, we’re getting pissed.”


*****


He caught her eye as Mrs. Cho grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the kitchen. He shook his head and made to follow after them and was immediately met with the steely gaze of the tiny gray haired midwife.

That was quite an ability. He was a century-old Master Vampire and despite himself, he was currently doing his very best not to retrieve every towel they had. There was no way he was going to be leaving Buffy alone with Mrs. Cho.

“What are you doing here?”

And then Spike said the three words he had been sure for a hundred years he would never say. They didn’t feel forced, he didn’t think about them until he said them, they were just right. They were just what he had to say.

“That’s my wife.”

Mrs. Cho’s eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin. Spike had to force himself not to take a step back. Who was this woman?"

“Do not think I don’t know what you are.” she said, her voice had gotten low and dangerous. She said the words precisely. “You are jiangshe. You cannot father a child.”

“Jianshe?” Spike sputtered outraged.

“You also do not make babies.” she countered instantly. “I gave you a job. You go get the towels.”

“A Jing-what now?” Buffy spoke up from over the midwife’s shoulder.

“A Jiangeshe is a reanimated corpse.” Mrs. Cho explained patiently. “They keep themselves alive by feasting on blood. They are dead.”

“Oi!”

Buffy giggled at Spike’s look of outrage. Especially since he often used those words to describe himself.

“No, she’s right.” She said wryly.

“Shut up, Slayer.” Spike spat back. “I want to be there to see my kid. She can’t keep me out.”

Mrs. Cho however latched on to the nickname Spike often used in referring to her.

“Slayer?” She said confused.

Fuck.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh, good job, William.” She said infusing the name with her special slayer scorn like he didn’t know he fucked up. “Very ‘on the down-low’”

The old fashioned slang made him smirk a little bit.

“The jig was up there, carrot top,” He said.

“You are the slayer?” Mrs. Cho said, the look in her eyes was strange. “And he is jiangshe?”

"I don't know what a jiangshe is!" Buffy said at the same time as Spike said: "I don't bloody hop!"

“Gong gong?” That was Simon, he and Raj had come over to see what was going on.

He and The midwife jabbered at each other in Chinese for a few minutes. Simon looked sheepishly back at them.

“She wanted to know why we did not tell her that he was a vampire.” he said then he turned back to his aunt. “Gong Gong, the child is human and that’s really all that matters.”

Mrs. Cho stilled.

“but how do you know about vampires, Auntie?”

At that she rolled her eyes.

“Of course, I know about vampires, who do you think you are talking to?” she demanded. She did not arch an eyebrow, she did not move but Simon nodded and looked contrite. “Is the tea ready?”

Simon looked startled. “No.”

She looked disgruntled but nodded once.

“We cannot wait. We should begin now.” she said. “After the exam you drink the tea." She said to Buffy. She turned her back towards the training room effectively dismissing the three men. "You three you go into the kitchen.”

Both Raj and Simon turned back towards the kitchen but Spike stood his ground.

“That is my child in her belly. I want to be there with her.”

Mrs. Cho turned her fathomless black eyes on him. SHe looked floored that he had not just followed a direct order. He didn't move. She stood ramrod straight, still almost a foot shorter than Spike but she still managed to look down at him. When he didn’t allow himself to be cowed, she actually looked impressed. Nothing moved, but Spike detected a very small twinkle in her shark-eyes that had not been there before.

“Very well. I will send for you when we are ready.”

And with that she turned on her heel and slammed the door in his face. He stared at the closed door for a long moment. and then he found himself walking into the kitchen.

“Your aunt is out of her mind.” He said. “I didn’t know that room had a door.”

“Don’t worry about it, mate.” Raj said. “Sit down they’ll call when they’re ready.”

He maneuvered Spike into a chair and set down a cup of tea in front of him. Spike allowed himself to be fussed over. He took a long drink of the tea and promptly spat it out.

“The bloody hell is that? Tastes like fermented yak piss.”

“Spike, how do you know what that even tastes like?”

Spike was still spitting out tea bits. Simon offered him a glass of water which the vamp sniffed and then downed.

“Century is a long time, gadget.” Spike said with a smirk. “And for that little stunt you owe me! B-negative. Polynesian. A century is enough time to learn 6 different ways to skin you.”

Raj grinned unconcerned. He had gone back to his coffee.

“Enjoy the headache that goes with that.” He said.

Spike growled. “I’m going to kill Wesley.”

“Enjoy the headache that goes with that.”

“I can kill without pain. S’just no fun.”

Raj arched an eyebrow and indicated his peace offering. On one of the chairs was a stack of fluffy maroon towels. “Buffy really likes these so I hesitate to use them for baby-related issues, but they’re all we’ve got.”

“Where do we keep these? over next to the poison you just handed me in my family’s bone china? After I open my bloody house to you?”

“Oh please, your girls would live off take-away and frozen lasagna if it wasn’t for me.”

“Maybe I should employ a taster.”

“I doubt that there is anything in there that can seriously harm you.” Simon ventured.

Both vampire and Raj had forgotten that he was even in the room. Simon smiled awkwardly.

Spike took a second to study the bloke. He had been an unwelcome guest in his house, and then he had burned his hand. But he had done so in a way Spike had never even considered. He was human and yet had moved faster than Spike could react which was admirable. He also knew who Spike was and burned him anyway. He might be Dougie Houser but he had stones and Spike could respect that.

“You take a drink of it, then.”

Simon leveled his dark eyes with Spike’s and walked up to the cup and down the rest of the contents without so much as a gag. His smirk rivaled the vampire's own.

Stones, indeed.

“How did you not vomit?” Raj demanded. “I can only smell the stuff and I want to vomit.”

“She makes everyone drink that.” Simon said with a shrug. “Says it’s all the vitamins we need. Also be advised that tea cleans out your system like you wouldn’t believe.”

He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a very large bottle of what looked to be neo-natal vitamin pills.

“But I’d like to cover all of my bases. Please ensure she takes one of these daily.” he said.

“Right.” Raj answered. “Put it next to the coffee. She’ll see them there.”

Spike was staring off toward the closed training room door.

“I should be in there.” he said lowly. “I should be in there with her. The slayer and I have been through a lot her and me. and I should be in there with her, That’s my daughter in there, I want to be there to see her.”

Simon looked startled at his sudden outburst but Raj looked sympathetic. He handed Spike an actual cup of tea which the vampire sniffed cautiously not taking his eyes off the door.

“Why do you think the baby’s a girl?” Simon asked.

“Because of Alex.” Raj cut in before Spike could say anything. “Alex who is the hybrid that the baby’s made of. I guess we just thought that that would make the baby a girl.” He realized suddenly that Simon might actually know more about the baby than they did. “oh God, do you know?”

That snapped Spike out of his reverie.

“No, I work with blood samples and genetic code.” Simon said. “the more senior scientists do the more hands-on work.” he said. “I sit in a lab and stare at a screen.”

“You mean to say CSI lied to me?” Raj quipped. Simon sent him a dirty look and he chuckled and turned back to Spike. “Sit down, mate, they’ll come out and get you when they’re ready. At the very least they need Simon to work the bloody thing. You aren’t going to miss her...” he grinned. “or him.”

The flood of joy that surged through Spike was embarrassing. It was so full, so completely ridiculously pure he was surprised it didn’t burn out his vampiric insides. He had been running for so long, and hiding for so long and trying to ensure that the slayer was okay for so long that he had failed to register that he was going to have a child. That was true. That was happening. The proof of it was in the next room. He was going to be able to be that father he didn't have to opportunity to be the first time around.

“I’m going to have a child, Prasad.”

Raj greened at him stupidly and clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’ve failed my mission to provide cigars, but I do have a bottle of my dad’s most expensive whiskey.”

“That’ll do.” Spike said. “Siddown, Dougie.”

Simon checked with Raj first before joining the vampire at the table. Raj was doling out the Kilmagloran into expensive looking crystal glasses. He was about to sit when a shill noise knifed through the room.

Spike and Raj exchanged confused looks. Simon instinctively looked for the phone.

“Are you going to get that?” He ventured.

“Spike, you live here legally.” Raj spoke up.

Spike rolled his eyes and nodded and jumped up to grab it on its third ring.

“Hello,” he said in the crisp Queen’s English tones he still adapted when he had to be the person that No. 9 was titled to. “Right, speaking.”

There was a short curt noise from the phone.

“Well,that’s quite the story--”

Spike felt his insides churn and then bottom out. He hoped none of it showed, but very suddenly he was glad he wasn’t human. Humans sweat and he would have taken that moment to make up for a century’s worth of not sweating. He was suddenly unsure whether he was or he wasn’t. He certainly felt like he had dropped the phone.

“Right. Yes, immediately. Thank you.”

Spike replaced the phone on its cradle and turned to the two men.

“Sorry, chaps, I need to go.”

Raj arched an eyebrow at the sudden one-eighty.

“Where?”

Spike was patting his pockets, clearly looking for a smoke. He found his pack and slipped a cigarette between his lips. This was another one of those things he never thought he would ever experience.

“Holland House.” he said. “That was the Headmistress’s office. Alexis’ been suspended.”



****

Hi everyone! Thanks for bearing with me. This one took a long time to write because it was lots of new information and new characters but more sooner the next chapter will be in up before two weeks are over! I am determined!
Chapter 25 - School Hard: The Next Generation, Part I by Petra
Author's Note: Hello all! I'm moving so things are about to get super hectic, but I've been sitting on this for a while since its OC heavy. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter Twenty-Five: School Hard: The Next Generation, Part 1

The problem with middle of the night hot chocolate was that going to bed after made a weird amount of time. She could catch her last 90 minutes of sleep or she could stay up and get started on her homework.

Too wired to sleep, Western Civ won out.

Her whole life she dreamed about what it would be like to live with; and fight along side; and just goof around with her real parents. She had thought about what they would do for family vacations and what thanksgiving would be like and she even imagined what it would be like to be the only 11-year-old allowed to have a nighttime party. The reality of it involved a lot more homework than she was comfortable with. But even with the temptation to slack off constantly nagging at her, she couldn’t let herself disappoint them. Especially since--from the stories Spike told her--she was putting together that her father had been one of those swotty know-it-all's in school who got perfect grades and did extra work for fun.

Big bad her lily white ass.

Then again, who was she to be complaining about this? This was everything she had ever dreamed about. She was living with her long-dead parents, and while she could do without the scary murder society that was constantly chasing them, this was what she had always wanted. And now that she had it, it felt wrong. It felt like she was doing something bad, and getting away with it. Shouldn't she be trying hard to get home? Because that would be the noble thing to do, the right thing, probably. But this was all just too good; it was too much to pass up.

Dammit. She was staring at the same six words in her World History Text book.

Laying in bed meant thinking about all the things ever, wondering if it was right to stay here and if that was the case should she be at least trying to get back to her time? and did that time even exist anymore if she's changed it? Or if it was a different dimension, would she be causing all sorts of rifts by being here? and that was just too much for one girl to handle.

So, Alex decided fuck it all together in favor of a very long shower in her fancy, perfect London en suite bathroom.

Who was she kidding? She was never leaving this place.

After her shower, she pulled on her uniform and started getting her book bag ready for the day.

Alex had always done well in school. The Slayer Academy was, however, an alternative environment. Everything was taught with a practical goal, which was to train the students to be the front line of defense against the forces of darkness. So, every lesson had a corresponding applied purpose. Physics meant spear trajectories, and Trig meant weapons calculations and Battle Tactics was a class. After all that, it was hard to try and get into a subject like Math.

She supposed she should like Math because it was the one familiar thing in her world like in the excellent classic Mean Girls. But honestly, Math just sucked and she hated it. No getting around it.

To silence the weird niggling little feeling that she had to earn all this good fortune, she made her bed and cleaned her room before trudging downstairs to greet a bleary eyed Raj.

“World of Warcraft?” she guessed.

“Why do I do this to myself?” Raj asked her melodramatically. This was a normal morning ritual for them, early morning when Alex was getting ready for school and Raj getting ready for work.

He was making coffee. Bless him. If he wasn’t around no one in the Pratt family would be able to make heads or tails of the kitchen.

“Because you find reading boring and could never get into escapist literature?” she ventured with a shake of her head.

Raj scowled at her.

“Spare me your holier than thou bullshit. I don’t need to be told that Lord of the Rings is a revelation.”

“Saw the movie, have the t-shirt, I like Game of Thrones better.” Alex said with a shrug. “Did you get muffins?”

Raj had obviously become accustomed to her weird anachronistic spoilers. He barely even mentioned them anymore.

“No, but there are frozen waffles in the icebox.”

Alex arched an eyebrow.

“You don’t actually use “icebox” do you?” She said. "It’s not Britishese or whatever?"

Raj paused.

“I’m not sure now. Freezer? Icebox? You’ve all got me examining what I’m saying. I very nearly said “pants” at a store the other day.”

Alex poured herself a thermos full of coffee. “Were you buying pants?”

“Trousers! I was buying trousers!”

She smiled privately at his indignation and went about making a breakfast sandwich. Two waffles chocolate sauce and peanut butter.

Raj eyed her proceedings suspiciously.

“Bring an apple with you, yeah?”

Alex arched an eyebrow.

"What? I can't worry about your health?"

There was a bowl of fruit on the kitchen island and Alex grabbed one to appease him.

“Thank you, a proper parent would go crazy if he saw the way you ate."

"I'm fifteen. I only have ten good garbage eating years left." she replied easily. "Besides have you seen Buffy eat? She's like 75% cheeto."

"She is pregnant. She is eating for two." Raj rationalizing. He had poured himself a coffee, downed it and poured another. She looked like she was about to protest but Raj put the coffee down and sighed. "Look, just eat the damn apple and let me feel better about your life?"

Alex took a big demonstrative bite.

Raj grinned.

"Thanks." Raj said. "have a good day, Lex."

“You too, Raj!”


***


Alex stepped out into the cold morning gray. It was a 15 minute walk from No. 9 to the Holland House School. There were Underground and Bus options but she loved the walk. It took her straight through the pretty Victorian Petticoat drama bits of London. It was usually pretty deserted so she could pretend she was walking through Austenland or Downton Abbey.

She smiled at some passing runners, mentally going over what she had to finish for school today--which she was already sure was going to be too much.

Holland House had been Raj’s mother alma mater. It was a strange place . The academics were rigorous but the school seemed to be divided into two large groups, those who cared about Academics (this group was populated by over-achievers who spoke multiple languages while practicing semi-professional ballet or kept Hermione-Level marks while starting a business on the side) or The rich Aristos who didn’t care one way or the other because they were set for life. (This group was populated by girls named Amarillys, Gilda, or Velvet.) Both groups had been going to school with the same people since they were in diapers (nappies) and there were very few new girls. There were even fewer new girls who came into the school in the middle of fifth form, but Raj had pulled some strings to ensure her a place. Despite his best efforts, it was taking her a while to adjust to the British school system--the fact that she arrived 3 weeks into the school term was not helping her any, she was determined to fall into the first group.

The morning was freezing cold. But the walk warmed her blood and the hot coffee was especially delicious because of the winter bite. Here she was living in London with William Pratt, the man she had always wondered about but never met; and Buffy Summers, her mother. And they were together. And she was expecting a sibling! It was hard not to whoop with unbridled joy at that thought of this when she was outside, actually there, experiencing the bone-chilling damp.

It was enough to tough it out without a smartphone.

She arrived at Holland House at seven fifteen and made her way up to the library. She made sure to put the last of her waffle sandwich in a plastic bag for later.

“Morning, Alexis!” The librarian, a Ms. Anne Hooper, called. “Long to-do list today?”

Alex nodded. She liked Ms. Hooper but she did her best not to be to chummy. It was hard enough being the weird new girl who was American she didn’t want to be branded the weird new girl who was American and only hung out with the librarian.

She was working on muscle memory all the way to her usual secluded table, already thinking of her English essay. She had finished all her qualifying exams and just had the catch up work to finish now. She pulled out her her diary and leafed through it.

The realiation of it hit her like a freight train filled with chocolate caramels and root beer and gooey pizza.

She still had a week on that English essay.

She double checked her dates and her to-do list. She had finished her Math homework and she did have a Western Civ debate today but as a child born into a post-Great Recession world she could rip apart the Eurozone like a troll on reddit. And she had a free period later.

She closed her diary.

She was all caught up.

Well, fuck.

She should feel relieved, but it just felt unreal, like there was something else she was missing. She checked and then double checked and she was all caught up.

She only just started to feel lighter as she cleaned up her materials and there was a definite swing in her step as she walked right back out of the library

“Not as long as you thought, eh?”

Again, she nodded. This time she could not keep the grin off her face.

“Bye, Ms. Hooper.”

She liberated her waffle sandwich planning to go outside and sit in the courtyard and just bask in the cold air. They kept the corridors and the buildings of Holland House almost unbearably warm.

There were a few other girls around, they were members of extra curricular clubs and other activities. Alex didn’t know a single one of them but she did try and smile as they passed. Everyone pretty much ignored her, so after a little while she stopped. They were all people she had seen before, but she felt like she was noticing them a for the first time. She could hear a few hissed conversations, people wondering who she was and how she scored a spot at Holland House so late. She had kept largely to herself which wasn't helping. She had heard somewhere that she was the daughter of an American Oil Tycoon or Movie star. Or both.

She made her way downstairs. For a second she felt like someone was following her, but when she turned back to the corridor everyone looked unaffected by her,so she knew they were all staring, wondering and whispering behind their hands. She had barely even noticed this before, there were some bad days of course, but when she was too stressed out worrying about projects and assignments it was so much easier to ignore it all.

She squared her shoulders, she was a slayer dammit! This uncertainty was not going to faze her. She had all the things she ever wanted. She didn’t have to dwell on a weird school life.

She pushed out of the building fully intending to enjoy what was left of her breakfast when very suddenly her world flew apart at the seams.

It felt like someone had split open her skull and was pouring molten gold into it-or lava-or something else that was molten. She could barely think straight because of the pain. Her ears popped and throbbed. Every muscle in her body was tense, it was like she was bracing for her head to explode.

She didn’t realize that she had closed her eyes against the onslaught. She forced them open and tried to make sense of what was happening.

It was a sound!

It was an evil, inhuman screech the likes of which she had never heard before. She could actually feel the lightning bolts stabbing into her brain. Was it swelling? It felt like it was swelling. It felt like it was filling her head with electricity and eventually her skill was going to explode.

What the fuck was going on? She had been a slayer officially for over a year, and been in training for most of her life, preparing for every eventuality. But this was entirely new and infinitely scary.

She had toppled to the floor completely missing the bench.

The noise vanished as quickly as it came.

She pulled herself up and made her self sit on one of the stone benches. Her heart was pounding and her head was still throbbing with residual pain. She did her best to still her breathing. She was covered in sweat. Slowly, she started to normalize.

The noise was debilitating, unexpected and nearly brought her to her knees but it was mercifully short. Where could it have come from?

Alex surveyed the courtyard as subtly as she could. There was a smattering of people around, most of them were people heavily into school activities like the tall blonde who headed the theatre and a bunch of the sporty girls coming in from crew.

Her first thought was Genesis, but it was unlike them to announce themselves. It had always been a blitz attack, nothing like the shriek that filled her entire head. And besides, if it was them, she wouldn't come around to her school yard, she would wake up on a slab next to her parents.

Her ears were still ringing, but nothing else seemed to be out of order. No one seemed to be coming for her. She studied them all again. The sporty girls were stretching, not paying any attention to her. The Theatre girl was coordinating the drop off of something with a large man. There were a few student government officers putting things up on a billboard.

In fact, no one else looked like they were even a little bit affected by the noise. If she was on the ground--with her slayer pain tolerance, then whatever it was it should have been enough to at least incapacitate them. But they were going about their business with no disruption. It hit her then that it was a vampire thing. It must have been in a pitch that only she could hear.

It didn’t feel like Genesis, but who could it be?

Spooked, Alex headed into the building to make in early for her first class. She took out her cell phone but thought better of texting Spike and Buffy. If she texted them, Spike would come charging into the school, sunlight be damned. He would yank her out of class and then burn the whole damn place down. Which on the one hand would be kinda great, but on the other he would also probably insist they pick up and leave London. And that would mean starting over in a place that had none of the resources they had here. And worse, Spike’s ace in the hole, his perfect hideout, would be gone.

No, she decided, this was totally different than Genesis. This was something new. If this was Genesis then she would already be drugged and put in a sterile surgery bubble where they would be running tests on her. Best figure out what the hell that sound was and--worst case scenario--tell them about it later.

She was holding onto her phone very hard, her hands we still a little bit sweaty.

Alex became suddenly aware of what was happening around her when someone bumped into her desk making her start, drop her phone and overturn her thermos, the contents of which spilled everywhere.

“What the everloving fuck?”

The tepid left-over coffee had tipped right at the feet of the girl who sat next to her. She had very, very shiny hair and perfect skin. She was the one: Cora Winterton-Dooling. Coco. The Queen of the Middleclones.

Alex groaned inwardly, of course she knocked over a thermos of coffee on one of the popular clique.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll go grab some towels from the bathroom. I’m so sorry.”

“You better be fucking sorry, idiot, these are new bloody shoes!”

“Ladies!”

Mrs. Ndawe, their English literature teacher, had entered the room.

“Language. That will be a demerit on your conducts.” She said.”Ms. Pratt—”

Alex was standing.

“I was just about to go grab paper towels from the bathroom.” she stammered nervously.

Mrs. Ndawe peered at her suspiciously for a second but then nodded.

“Right. Proceed.” She said before turning to the blackboard to start the lecture.

Alex ducked her head and ignored the death glare that Coco was sending her. She slipped out of the class room at borderline super speed and made it back in less than 2 minutes. She handed Coco paper towels. The girl just glared at her.

The rest of the class went on uneventfully, Alex sat a little bit lower in her seat and tried to be invisible. She wasn't sure which was worse, the mysterious tone or the death glare coming from the Queen B--the sound. The screeching was worse. She had to focus on finding the source and concentrate on forgetting what it felt like to feel like her ears were being drilled into with hot lasers.

At the end of class a girl fell into step next to her.

“So Coco Winterton-Dooling hates you.”

Alex looked up to see a mousy brunette girl. She smiled, showing off her green rubber banded braces. Her name was Hannah she was one of the few people who actually spoke to Alex. She had even sat at Hannah’s table for lunch once or twice, when she wasn’t making up a test or shotgunning a last minute paper.

“You’ve been tried and found wanting by the poshy-posse.”

Alex shrugged, she had not really had the time over the last few weeks to actually make heads or tails of the social system that was the lifeblood of Holland House.

“The poshy-posse?” Hannah repeated. “Coco, Mags, Lena and Skye?”

Alex kept staring. Hannah rolled her eyes.

“You know! Of Course you know!” she exclaimed. “Lady Cora Winterton-Dooling of Sunderland? Mags Worley-Donahugh--the one who heads all the committees ever, Lena Shaikh whose dad runs Saudi Arabia? Sometimes Azurra-Skye Delfino, her mom is that supermodel who married that CEO who was murdered? You don’t know a single person I’m naming.”

Alex’s grin was feckless and she chuckled a little bit as Hannah made the second eye-roll to end all eye-rolls

“C’mon you must have noticed them! They’re just posh, and the teachers love them, Mags rungs the theatre? Coco plans all the parties? and they’re in charge of like everything in school and they probably always have dates with boys from Knox Grammar across the park.” She stuck out a hand and introduced herself. “I’m Hannah. You’re new right? From America?”

Alex just stared at her for a second, unsure if Hannah was messing with her. That girl made jokes sometimes that Alex just didn’t get, she was worried that maybe she was never going to get the hang of British schools. Skins had so lied to her.

“Hi, I’m Alex Pratt?”

Hannah burst out laughing, making Alex sigh in relief. Messing with her.

“I really wasn’t sure if you would take the bait, but I figured you’ve been so busy you can’t make heads or tails of anyone.”

“You’re cruel.”

“Cruelty is how we show our affection, darling.” She linked arms with Alex and lead her through the halls. “It’s not all love and kisses and affirmation like at your American school.”

Alex thought back to the last day she spent at the Academy, she had been at the Freshman Fight Club which was how they taught barely-teenaged freshmen girls how to take a hit. And how to spit out the blood so you could keep going.

“Aw, do you miss it?” Hannah said sympathetically. “Don’t you wish that Holland House was more like that? Alternative? touchy-feely?”

That snapped Alex out of her reverie.

“This is actually really nice.” She said. “You're in a few of my classes right? What do you have next? I usually have Math with Greene, but apparently he’s on a minibreak in Mallorca this week..." she cringed at the hopeful tone in her voice. God, she was such a loser. She also stumbled over the word ‘minibreak’ which was a learned word she got from watching Bridget Jones. But Hannah didn’t seem weirded out by her use of it.

“I actually have bio with Mr. Wein.” Hannah said apologetically. ”but you have A-period lunch, right? See you then?”

Alex smiled and nodded. Hannah was a little weird but it felt really good to know someone and have somewhere to go at lunch. Recently, she had been sort of a ghost, just sitting wherever she found a place and letting people organically come and go around her, every so often someone would come and sit with her, sometimes it was multiple someones, but she couldn’t always relate to the conversation so they tended to dissipate quickly. Hannah and her crew were some of the few people she had ever really hung out with.

They came to a crossroads and the mousy brunette gestured towards the Science wing of the school and smiled warmly. Alex found herself smiling back.


***


“Why does Mags Worley-Donahugh hate you so badly?”

Alex glanced up. She was sitting at a table with Hannah and a few other friends. She had been introduced to each of them once upon a time, but that was too long ago and she was a little bit worried that it had gotten too late to ask them for their names again. The conversation had gone to what everyone else was talking about doing over the weekend so Alex had poked and prodded at her food. She didn't want to chime in and make people feel like they had to invite her, she also could maybe get a jumpstart on that Western Civ. paper she should finish.

“Who hates me now?”

“Mags.” One of the other girls chimed in. She glanced quickly over Alex’s shoulder at the table that the popular girls sat at--near the door so they could pop out for a smoke. “whenever she looks over here she just looks…”

“Murderous.” Hannah supplied.

“She’s the worst of the lot. She runs all the extra curriculars at this school. She's even lobbying for a prom. She’s also a model, I hear she's been in magazines in Korea.” one of the other girls said wistfully. "you know because of the hair?"

Alex was just about to glance over but everyone protested at once.

“She is not the worst in the lot.” Another of the girls spoke up. She was very large and sweet looking. She looked a little bit like how Alex would picture Aunt Willow would have been in high school: Prim locket, regulation uniform, chunky black mary-janes. “That would be Coco.” she was saying.

After a few seconds Hannah nudged her lightly and nodded for her to look. Alex glanced as subtly as she could.

“Oh, her! Right. I killed and ate her dog.” She said.

The table looked at her incredulously.

“She joked.” Alex added with a weak smile. "Aren't you all up in the kidding? Isn't dryness a part of that British humor I keep hearing about?"

Thankfully, the table burst into chuckles and a few giggles. Not the uproarious laughter Alex had been hoping for, but a start.

“You can’t hold us to that.” One of the other girls piped up. Alex had taken to calling her Avril Lavigne. She wore chunky, studded punk cuffs and Converse All-Stars. “None of us would have any idea if you were joking. WE all know you don't have humor in America.”

“Gosh, they’re like those mythical things that are super pretty but then lure you to slam your boat in the rocks.” The tall sweet looking girl spoke up steering the conversation back to the Poshy-posse. Alex noticed that the name Gemma was carefully printed on the notebook she was doodling on.

“Oh?” Another girl said incredulously. “When did you jump on the poshy-posse hating bandwagon weren’t you wondering how to buy into that club a few weeks ago?”

Gemma blushed.

“I went and I invited Coco to play tennis with me –we’re in the same club--and she laughed and let me down all patronizingly which was bad already, but then as I was about to leave, I heard her call be a hippo-Johanson to the others.”

“A hippo?” Hannah exclaimed. “but that dosen’t even make sense, you’re so skinny!”

There was a chorus of affirmations that Alex was just about to jump into when Gemma broke it up.

“I don’t think it was a dig at my weight, I think she meant lumbering and clumsy.” she said unhappily. “I know I’m doing much better. Mum has allowed mirrors in the house again.” she paused for a sympathetic chuckle. “Coco-she told the people she was with this story that happened when we were at Tennis Camp a few years ago where I was running away from a bee and I accidentally toppled the Official’s lookout--where the chair umpire sits? I had totally forgot that she was there for that and they all laughed and I felt like such a-I don’t know? a Boil? tiny insect?”

“Don’t worry about it, Gem,” Another girl said, she was dark hair and had a super cute pixie cut that everyone would be all over in about 10 years. “Coco is an ass. She just dosen’t know how to be cool without putting down everyone around her.”

“We should try and get back at her!” Hannah piped up.

“We can’t!” Pixie-cut exclaimed. “That group is all close and annoying with the faculty. No one can touch them. I’ve seen girls thank Coco for slapping them. What do you think, Alex?”

Alex raised her hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me Mags Donahugh already looks at me like I killed her mother. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

The Avril Lavigne girl looked at her all pityingly. “You say both names, Alex. Mags Worley-Donahugh.”

“See?”

“Oh, what good are you?” demanded Hannah. “ I thought Americans were supposed to be bold and brash and shake everything up!”

“That’s because you get all your information from TV dramas.” Gemma said knowingly.

“You two are no fun” Hannah said promptly. She took a large bite of her lunch.

Alex tried to look laid-back and casual, but the camaraderie with people had felt like a long drink of water after being in the desert. She had a lot of friends back at the Slayer academy. So much had happened in so little time that she had almost forgotten to miss them. Now she missed them. She missed them very, very much.

“She just wants her life to series 4 of Coronation Street.”

Alex nodded. “Coronation street?”

“Americans.” Hannah said with a small shake of her head. “Don’t worry girls, we’ll mentor this one.”

Alex laughed a long with them it felt embarrassingly good to be with them, to be hanging out.

“I’ll have you know I love British tv. You brought us Sherlock and Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy.”

“Sherlock? Like the Radio play?”



***


They finished their lunch and headed off to their various classes, Alex had gym with Gemma and apparently the posh posse, whom Gemma was now calling the Bitchy-fuck-witch-brigade. They apparently always rigged their timetables to match.

Alex had assumed that PE at Holland House would end up being something fancy like horseback riding or skiing--things she had never done before and never been good at. She was half right, it was tennis and everyone had perfect white Wimbledon outfits. Except her, of course--she had a grey tank top and a pair of black exercise shorts.

Gemma, bless her, had offered an extra skirt, but even with all the weight loss Alex was much smaller than her.

They dressed in a locker room, and made their way out into a big enclosed bubble to hit tennis balls off of a pitching machine. Their teacher was a compact, impossibly fit marathon runner named Ms. Ward who wore her bushy red hair in an appallingly high ponytail, she was standing next to the pitching machine and yelling for them to form a line.

As soon as Alex stepped outside, Mags was glaring at her. Alex could practically feel the heat of it on the back of her neck.

Gemma followed Alex’s gaze.

“Has she always hated you?” Gemma asked. “I’ve never seen her like this. She’s usually the nicest of the lot. Intimidating and a little impatient, but not like actually nasty, you know what I mean?”

“Really? Because she’s a right peach.” Alex said . Looking away and bouncing a tennis ball experimentally. “All sunshine and rainbows.”

“See, and you thought you weren’t getting the hang of England, we’ll get you into understatement and self-deprecation yet.”

Alex laughed and shook her head.

“You should watch the Daily Show, it's all bravado.”

"The Daily Show?"

"Satirical news show. Nevermind."

Gemma allowed the odd little moment to pass. Alex sighed, it was sort of weird to be back in time and have to think up fun references that made sense to them. She had no idea what was on TV in England around now. Spice World?

They queued up for the pitching machine and after a few rounds they split up into scrimmage partners. Alex half-played letting Gemma beat her, and keeping one eye on Mags. Could she have been the origin of the pulse that slammed into her earlier? What had prompted it? She’d been here three weeks now, what could have changed? Out of the corner of her eye she could make out Mags had lost interest in her and was currently engaged in a serious game with a tall, awkward girl named Morwen Dawes.

“Morwen‘s problem is that she does not run!” A voice panted in her ear. It was Gemma. “And you are doing a truly shit job of making me think you are even halfway paying attention to this match. I’ve already got a set and 3 games. C’mon, show me what you’re working with!”

Alex arched an eyebrow and in the next three minutes was able to make up the deficit. She didn’t allow Gemma a single point.

“Okay, time out! Time Out!” Gemma yelled, she took a long deep drink from her water bottle and leaned heavily on the net, the side pole wobbled precariously.

“Whoa be careful!” Alex exclaimed. Gemma steadied herself.

“Oh, doing much better there, Johansson.” A voice cut in. They were the clipped tones of Coco Winteron-Dooling.

There was a wicked gleam in her eye, one Alex sensed instantly. The Damphyr shifted uneasily. There was something up with this girl She clearly had it in for poor Gemma.

“Sweet of you to check in but we’re fine.” She interjected. She grinned as blandly and as boringly as she could, but she could tell it caught no traction. “I’m Alexis Pratt.”

“I know who you are.” Coco actually sneered. Alex actually looked around to see if anyone was watching. She had no idea people actually did that. “You’re the prat who spilled coffee on my new shoes. Aptly named.”

Alex’s smile went fixed.

“Right. Yes. That was me.”

“You’re so lucky that Pratt is such a Saint letting you feel like you can win, Johansson. How was fat camp? Is that where you learned to play tennis?”

Alex frowned and looked over to Gemma who looked like she wanted to melt into a puddle into the floor.

“Piss off, Coco.” She managed. Although she looked a little bit like she wanted to burst into tears.

Alex smiled a little bit but tried not to let it show, Coco scowled nastily.

“Don’t worry about it, Alex,” Gemma said, stepping up to Coco. “Her stupid joke is I used to be massively fat.”

“Looks like you’ve become quite the big shot, no need of anyone else to fight your battles, hippo-Jo?” Coco countered said nastily. “What are you going to do now that you can’t threaten to sit on me anymore.”

That seemed to shatter Gemma’s composure. She dropped the racquet and stormed off. Alex turned back to Coco in askance clearly confused as to the strange total animosity. But before she could say anything she was interrupted by Ms. Ward calling for them to start a game and stop “socializing”.

She made a gesture to them; pairing the two of them up for the next scrimmage. Alex’s smile was poisonous, Coco smirked and arched an eyebrow clearly she had no idea what a slayer could do when she was angry.

It wasn’t even a game, it was a massacre.

A few other girls down had actually stopped to watch Alex go. She tried not to show boat, she tried to make it look like the effort was straining her, but she had been playing sports like tennis since she could walk and her heightened senses and speed made it a bloodbath--she was actually holding back from hitting too hard.

She was setting up her next serve when while glancing around her eyes met Mags’s and the high screech was there. And with it a sudden massive pain drilling into Alex’s skull.

Mags. Mags was glaring at her with intense silver eyes. The debilitating shriek had to be coming from her.

Because she was focusing on Mags her volley was wholly instinct and it slammed back across the pitch at full slayer strength and straight into Coco’s eye.

Coco went down like a shot and the uproar happened immediately. Alex held Mags’s eye but turned away to pretend to care if that cow was alright.

She glanced back at Mags to see that the girl had come to some sort of decision, one Alex knew instinctively she did not want to be a part of. Once she had ascertained that Coco was unharmed, she backed off. She waited until she was far enough away from the gaggle of girls to turn back to the locker rooms.

It was just around then, after she was far enough away from the uproar that she could hear someone screaming hoarsely from inside.

Gemma.

After the bright sunshine of the outside, the changing room was dim and cool. It sounded like Gemma had been trying to get their attention for some time.

“Gemma?”

“Alex!”

Alex followed the sound of a voice to the back row of lockers. She heard pounding feet behind her and she hoped that it was a teacher keeping students back but Alex wasn’t a slayer in this world. She didn’t have any kind of authority and the supernatural didn’t have the same exposure so people were going to freak the fuck out. She wasn’t sure why she was sure something fishy was going on, but she could just smell the wiggins.

“Alex?” Gemma’s voice was fearful. Beyond the sound of Gemma’s voice there was a dull thudding. Alex turned the corner to see Gemma tap dancing, her face was tear streaked and petrified.

“I-I-I-I-I can’t stop! I’ve been going for ages! I want to stop I can’t make myself stop!”

Alex took a step toward her friend when the now-familliar crippling pain started to pound through her head. The door flew open and the pain became so unbearable that Alex’s sight went red around the edges. Alex forced herself to focus, she could just make out long pale, blonde hair.

“What did you do?”

They demanded of each other at the same time.

The pain in Alex’s head increased even further as Mags bore down on her.

“Get out of here, Vampire!” Mags hissed angrily. “I don’t know what you did to her but—”

They both ignored Gemma’s surprised gasp and exclamation of “Vampire?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Alex yelled over the noise that only she could hear. Her teeth were clenched so hard to try and block out the noise she could barely make herself talk. “Stop the noise! I can help her!”

“I don’t believe you! Get back! Evil Fiend!”

Gemma was yelling in the background. Neither superbeing was paying her any attention.

“I’m not a vampire!”

“That’s just what a vampire would say!”

Something in her jaw cracked and Alex screamed it was a hollow awful sound and even Gemma paused for a moment. Mags waved a hand. The noise stopped.

“Hannah!” Gemma exclaimed.

Alex rose and shook the wool from her head. “Hannah?” she demanded.

“Hannah was here, That’s what I was trying to tell you! She came through here but she was all weird and fucked up!”

“Hannah did this, Gemma?” Alex tried to clarify. “She just came here and wiggled her nose and did this?”

“It wasn’t really Hannah it was like evil Hannah! She was all veiny and intense and I had been—God! It hurts! I can’t keep going! but I can't stop!”

“What are you doing?” Mags demanded.

Alex ignored her. Gemma was sobbing now.

“I know it hurts, Gemma.” She said. “Please, stay with me. She was veiny? Like she was inside out?”

“Just like that! Just like that! and I was just talking trash about Coco and she said “done” like a crazy person and then she disappeared.”

Alex felt her stomach drop.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She continued to ignore Mags’s demands of her. Right now, Gemma was what mattered. “Gemma, listen to me. Did you wish for anything?”

“What? This is not my fault!!”

“I know that. I’m trying to help. Did you wish for anything? Like actually say the words “I wish”? I wish that Coco would just die? or something like that?”

Gemma was in tears.

“No, I might have said something about wishing I could just exercise until I was skinny.”

“You are skinny, Gemma.” Alex assured her friend. Gemma was openly weeping now. Frustrated and angry at the popular clique, Alex turned accusatory to Mags. “All of this because of Coco. We need to find Hannah.”

“Coco’s got a crush and doesn't know how to handle it.” Mags said dismissively. “Who’s Hannah?”

“Brunette,” Alex said straightening up. She raised her hand. “About ye tall, welcome wagon friendly? Yeah, she’s a vengeance demon.”

“Make it stop! Please make her stop it! I just wanted to be able to play! I just wanted her to go away! I Just wanted her to—make it stop!”

“What’s a vengeance demon?” Mags demanded.

“Someone who could do something like this.” Alex snapped impatiently. Her mind was turning over possibilities in her head. They were dealing with a vengance demon, which means she would just have to find the vengance demon. She may be able to do a locator spell. Alex who had been studying Gemma suddenly whirled on Mags. Mags had to be some kind of witch, because she had made with the tonal brain drilling. “What are you?” but before Mags could reply she changed her mind. “No. You know what? Not important right now. Right now we find a way to make Gemma stop death dancing.”

Mags stared for a moment and then let her eyes fall closed. She chanted a few dozen words and her hair rose around her floating around her face as if she was underwater.

For a second nothing happened. There was just the sound of the tap-tap-tap of Gemma’s feet which suddenly started to go faster, Gemma looked down horrified and started to scream and she went faster and faster until suddenly she collapsed onto the gym floor twitching ominously.

Alex looked down at her friend and then up at Mags.

“Good job, there, witch-bitch!" she said sarcastically. "Should we call the nurse now?”

Mags ignored her and waved at the door to the tennis courts. She must have locked them behind her because when they flew open everyone burst in, like they hadbeen trying the doors for sometime. Ms. Ward took point, barking orders for people to call the nurse. Alex caught Mags’s eye and edged out jerking her head to indicate that Mags should follow her. They spilled out into the hall and headed thorugh the corridors.

“She’s supposed to be in French class why the hell would she just follow us to gym!” Alex thought aloud. She examined several of her interactions with Hannah. “She’s been prompting us all day, I wonder if she's on a deadline. She's been here for a while though, so she's probably lost patience.”

Mags said nothing and just followed her. They sprinted through the halls to the French classroom, Alex studied the room through the tall narrow window in the door. There was a conspicuous gap in the desks.

“She’s not there.”

Mags groaned in frustration.

“Can’t you just smell her or something?

“I’m not a vampire, is that what this is seriously about?” Ales said exasperatedly. suddenly fed up with the witch's attitude, she stopped dead and rounded on Mags. “Seriously? Because we were playing tennis outside in the sun like two seconds ago.”

Mags hesitated. For a fleeting second the horrible shriek that ad been shredding her insides flashed and abated instantly.

“Oi! Watch it!”

“You aren’t fully human either.” she said. “you can hear it.”

Alex considered her for a second but shook her head.

“It’s a long story and we have sort of a pressing issue here.” She skidded to a stop. “She can teleport. She could be anywhere. She could be in the Gambia.”

“No!” Mags exclaimed. She physically stoppped and thought for a minute. Alex envied her ability to not jump to the worst possible conclusion. “What she did to Gemma was brutal--almost unecessarily brutal. It's not like Gemma's done anything bad to her in the past. She’s a demon you said?”

Alex nodded.

“And you don’t think she thinks she’ll be found out?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I think she probably wants to watch the chaos.”

“She would be back at the changing room? Could she be that stupid?”

“It’s our only lead unless you can vampire us to the Gambia.”

Alex spared her a withering look.

“What do you think it is vampires do?”

Mags rolled her eyes and urged Alex forward.

Together, they sprinted down the corridors back to the changing room where he crowd was gathering, it was macabre to say the least, Mags’s spell or charm or whatever had calmed her and allowed her to pass out, but whatever magic the blonde witch had used had worn off. Gemma's legs were still going and her arms jerked around her like she was a marionette. Everyone was looking on in frozen horror unsure what to do. Ms. Ward was white as a sheet. She watched in rapt attention clearly hoping no one would ask her what the hell to do about it.

“Bugger.” Mags muttered.

Alex ignored the menacing picture her new friend made, and scanned the faces for Hannah. She was standing with the crowd her morbid fascination shining through just a little more eagerly than everyone else’s. There was no time to tell Mags. She made her way over to Hannah who trying to look just as horrified as the others. She was failing, her mouth was almost contorted in a grim smile. Alex tried to approach her cautiously but Hannah caught her purposeful gait and seemed to put together that the other girl knew what was going on.

The vengeance demon bolted.

Alex broke into a full sprint and crashed headlong into her friend grabbing at her neck. The horrid tapping of Gemma’s feet stopped abruptly. She fell to the floor like her strings were cut. For a second she was mercifully still, but then she jerked to the beat of her own tap dancing moments earlier.

Alex went for every accessory she could find. She couldn’t very well kill a student in front of a teacher with no explanation, but her slayer training served her well. All she had to do was find the power source--which could be pretty much anything, so she could pulled off anything that wasn’t Hannah’s uniform and threw them all on the floor, methodically slamming her heel down on every piece, the necklace and watch had no effect, the last piece was a statement ring. Alex took a deep breath and slammed her doc marten down on it.

Nothing happened.

Hannah grinned triumphantly.

“You’re crazy!” She yelled trying to keep the mirth off her voice. She turned unaffectedly to the Phys. Ed Teacher. “Ms. Ward! Pratt is destroying my property.”

Alex sifted through the pieces of broken costume jewelry, ignoring the fall out around her. Mags dropped to the floor to look with her.

“Shit. It’s got to be here!” she said her voice was high with panic.

“What are you looking for?” she demanded.

“An Amulet.” Alex hissed. “it’s the source of her power.”

“Large and gaudy and horribly tacky?”

Alex looked up at Mags.

“You’ve seen it?”

“Gemma’s wearing it.”

Hannah was now suggesting that Gemma might be contagious, Ms. Ward was telling everybody to stand back, but Alex slid past her grabbed the necklace that she now noticed around her friend’s neck and crushed it in her hand.

Hannah let out an unholy shriek and launched herself at the damphyr.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” She wailed attempting to tear at Alex's hair. “Have you any idea what you have you done to me you idiot stupid fuckwit!”

Alex was able to fend her off successfully, but was trying very hard to make it look like she hadn't been trained all her life in martial arts. She tried to get Hannah into some sort of subtle lock so she could figure out how to proceed. From her training, she knew that a Vengeance demon should loose all her powers once someone had destroyed her power source, but the girl was making up for her suddenly diminished strength with sheer ferocity. Hannah’s face, though human, was almost unrecognizable, It was so twisted with hate and fury.

Mags crouched next to a groggy disoriented Gemma.

“What’s going on?” she said. She seemed to snap back to what had just been happening to her and she latched on to Mags. “Did you make it stop? Did you save me?”

“That would be Alex Pratt actually.” Mags nodded to Alex who was still doing her best to black Hannah’s vicious assault without actually hurting her.

The damphyr was finally tiring of the exercise she kicked at the inside of the former vengeance demon’s instep and when the girl fell off balance Alex twisted her arms behind her head and brought Hannah into a bind.

“Girls!” Ms. Ward seemed to have recovered her wits now that the heinous vision of Gemma dancing to death had ceased to be a pressing issue. Fights she knew how to handle. “Stop this at once!”

“Ohmigod, she attacked me!” Hannah called out. struggling in Alex’s grasp. “She attacked me!” She stilled suddenly and was clearly trying to teleport but it didn’t seem to be working. Hannah’s eyes widened in horror. “It’s true! What are you? How did you know how to do that!?”

“Me? I was just defending myself from you!” Alex exclaimed.

“Both of you to the Headmisstress’s office!” Ms. Ward declared.

Alex’s eye must have been round as saucers because Mags stepped in.

“Listen, Ms. Ward, I think we have all seen some crazy things here and maybe we should let the dust settle because we bring the headmistress into the equation. Alex was just defending herself and there’s no harm done. i think we should focus on Gemma and--”

Mags’s reasonable tone did nothing but grate at poor Ms. Ward.

“The headmisstress office!” she declared again. “All three of you!”
Chapter 26 - School Hard: The Next Generation, Part II by Petra
Chapter Twenty-Six - School Hard: The Next Generation, Part II

Chapter Twenty-Six - School Hard: The Next Generation, Part II

Spike sat in the wood paneled antechamber of the Holland House Headmistress’s office trying not to fidget. He fought to keep his face neutral and avoided any thoughts on the state of his Docs. His nose itched where a pair of the unfamiliar glasses were perched--Raj’s idea to make him look a little less threatening--they were his human pair, the pair that he had worn as William Pratt. That he was wearing them again, again as WIlliam Pratt appealed to his sense of poetry. They made practical sense too as apparently his eyes kept flashing golden.

It wasn’t his damn fault. Buffy was still in the clutches of that woman and while he desperately wanted to have her to help him deal with this, it couldn’t wait--and she probably didn't need the stress. Thankfully, the sun was low enough now that he could make it to Holland House without going up in smoke and technically he was Alex’s legal guardian--so he was William again, in a situation he would have never expected for himself.

He stalked through the doors so tense the mousey assistant had gotten even stutterier. She managed to get out that Alexis has been caught in a fight. Spike felt his insides clench, Alex knew the stakes. She would not be making waves unless it was life or death. She was usually clever about this kind of thing. So it had been important. She couldn't be too badly hurt, though, that fact made him relax just a little. If someone had managed to spill her blood, he would be able to smell that the instant he walked through the Holland House gate.

He forced himself to still, to look like a harried, busy older brother. He tried to translate petrified into annoyed. This wasn’t life or death to most people--the assistant probably thought she had interrupted a meeting. She bleated something about Alex telling her to call.

He was unsure how to play this, he had cultivated an Artful Dodger-esque reputation over the last century,but all that was predicated on his vampiric nature. It was easy to wriggle out of a tight spot when he could--and he usually did--just eat the other party and move on.

That was not an option here.

The assistant stammered on about Alexis being unharmed and the headmistress would see him in a minute. He tried to press her further, turning on the charm to see if he could flirt his way into more information. He was a good-looking bloke and he knew that. It was a weapon he had never had before he was Spike. But even at his most charmingly awkward and pleasant he was only making the assistant more nervous.

So he sat and waited as patiently as he could. Maybe he should have listened to Buffy when she told him to buy smarter shoes.

It felt like hours before the heavy mahogany door opened and the assistant barely had enough time to chirp that the headmistress would see him before he was pushing past her into the room drawn unerringly to his daughter. She looked fine pissed as hell, but fine. He pulled her into a tight hug.

“Minion, what the bloody hell is going on?” He hissed too lowly for any of the humans in the room to hear.

“Brunette is a vengeance demon.” Alex whispered back. “She tried to kill a friend.”

Spike surveyed the room over Alex’s shoulder two girls were sitting facing the desk.

“Blondie looks fine.”

“No. The friend is in the nurse’s office. What’s with the glasses?”

Spike released her. He turned to the person he assumed was the headmistress. She was a dark-skinned woman with short, iron gray hair. the plaque on her desk read: Jhumpa Botwin.

“Good Afternoon, you must be Alexis’s older brother.”

Spike pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and flashed her an eager, charming smile. Alex shot him a weird look which he ignored.

“Yes,” he said. “William Pratt.”

It rolled off his tongue easily. It was rusty from disuse, but oddly Spike found it fit like an old tailored jacket: familiar but tighter than he remembered.

“I’m Jhumpa Botwin, the Headmistress here at Holland House.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Botwin,” He said his vowels perfectly Oxford posh. “but what exactly is going on? Why has my sister been suspended?”

“That, Mr. Pratt, is what we are trying to ascertain.” she said with a tight smile. “your sister was found destroying another student’s property and fighting.”

“She was attacked.” The blonde said. She looked sullen but unafraid, her arms were crossed across her chest.

Spike wondered who she was to be able to speak to the headmistress so imperiously. He studied both her and the other brunette more carefully. The Blonde's posture was defiant and proud and not in the least bit afriad. The alleged vengeance demon was openly weeping into her hands.

“Ms. Worley-Donahugh, do be quiet and wait for your grandparents to arrive.”

The blonde ignored her.

“Gemma Stirling is at the nurse’s office--she’s alive right now because of Alex Pratt and I.” She insisted. “Ms. Ward just had no idea how to bloody well deal with the situation.”

“And what situation was that exactly, Ms. Worley-Donahugh?”

“It was the--uh dancing plague. It's from...Papua New Guinea"

She managed to say it with a straight face but Spike could smell that bullshit a mile away and it looked like the headmistress was not convinced. Alex glanced at her incredulously.

“Ms. Worley-Donahugh, be silent or I will employ additional discipline.”

“This is utter rubbish.” Replied the blonde, clearly unaffected by the threat. The chit had to be a noble--the proper kind with family estates and land. He had rubbed shoulders with girls like this when he was human. There was a sense of innate confidence in herself there was that was impossible to miss. “We’ve already told you what happened. It’s not our fault.”

“That will be two extra days to your suspension, Ms. Worley-Donahugh.” The headmistress snapped. She turned to Spike, her tight-lipped smile firmly in place. “Mr. Pratt, you may take your sister and go. She will be expected back in two days.”

Spike didn’t move. This would be on some sort of record he was sure of it. Records of Alex may help them, may make her seem more believable as a greiving girl who had just lost her father, but something had ocurred to him. The cuffs and collars crowd had changed little in a century, he knew how they operated, perhaps he could use that to his advantage.

“Ms. Worley-Donahugh,” He said thoughtfully. He turned to lock eyes first with Alex and then with the blonde. “Any relation to Tug Worley?”

Blondie stared at him uncomprehendingly for a second until the minion rolled her eyes and kicked her. To her credit, Blondie didn't complain.

“He is my, uh, my grandfather.”

Spike smiled approvingly.

“Is that so? What a coincidence, we belong to the same club!” Spike said conversationally. Now he wished he had foregone the glasses, threats usually landed better when she could flash some fang or a golden eye--even if it had to be subtle. “Say, has he finally been promoted to that position he kept talking about?”

“Yes, sir. Commander of Regional Forces at Land Command.” she said just a smige louder than she needed to.

Spike smirked. Blondie was catching on.

“Be sure to pass on my congratulations.” Spike said. "Ms. Botwin, I think--and I’m sure that Tug will as well--that it is very peculiar indeed that you are completely disregarding his granddaughter, who is here telling you exactly what happened.”

"Especially considering her past conduct and involvement in the school." Alex added.

“Mr. Pratt, the circumstances are quite bit more complicated.” The Headmistress said ignoring Alex.

"Ms. Botwin, I understand my sister has no past performance here at this school, but I must ask. Has Ms. Worley-Donahugh ever given you a reason to doubt her word?"

"No. But-"

"And considering her grandfather's position this school has enjoyed considerable prestige."

"Mr. Pratt--"

There was a low growling noise. Spike's aura of danger emerged around him like a cloak. The headmistress eyes widened.

"Ms. Botwin, I think that if you were to maintain this stand of ignoring the testimony of a student with a considerable reputation, perhaps Alexis's education should continue elsewhere. I am sure Tug Worley will agree with me."

“Mr Pratt, her explanation of Dancing plague?” The headmistress bleated lamely. “We don’t know what--”

“You don’t know?” Spike snarled. “You don’t know the specifics of the goings on of your school and yet suspend my sister because she helped a fellow student in need? This Gemma that Ms.Worley was talking about? Was it horrible? Were there accounts of terrified students?"

"Yes, but--"

Spike continued right over the headmistress's reply.

"And now, after my sister’s intervention, tell me, how is her condition?”

Ms. Botwin didn’t reply--which was, of course, a reply it and of itself. She deflated just a smidgen. But he was looking for it. Spike’s grin was predatory. He looked every inch an Aurealian Master without shifting into game-face, all the pleasant bumbling was gone.

“Mr, Pratt, Ms. Ward--”

“Yes, this Ms. Ward, How did she handle the situation?" Spike asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Let me see this Ms. Ward. I would very much like to speak with her.”

Jhumpa Botwin looked panicked. She began to spout things about probation and and fighting when Spike, out of the corner of his eye saw a flash of blonde hair shift closer to the brunette girl. He heard the blonde whisper "I hope you enjoy being human, Hannah." And there was a sudden enraged scream. The former vengeance demon threw herself at Alex who was able to hold her off with minimal harm.

“I’m going to kill you! I’m going to burn you with the fire of D’Hoffryn!” the girl, Hannah, exclaimed.

Spike eyed the scuffle unconcerned, while the headmistress lunged past him to try and pull the wailing girl off of Alex. He took only a second of scuffle before Ms.Botwin was able to separate them, clearly with his Minion's help.

The former demon collapsed in a heap of tears.

“Humans are so weak!” she moaned.

Ms.Botwin stood and wiped her palms on her knees. Spike didn’t threaten her further, he let the moment land.

“Go, Mr. Pratt.” THe headmistress said tiredly.

The vampire nodded and gestured for Alex to preceed him.

“About the suspension--” Alex wanted to know ignoring Spike’s urgent hints forher to just bolt.

“Please,” Ms.Botwin said, her voice small and squeaky. “leave, I will see you both tomorrow.”


*****


Once they were out of the Headmistress’s office, Spike pushed Alex into a deserted class room so that he could check her injuries more carefully for any erstwhile damage. There was a bruise or two, but any scrapes were already healed over. After a few moments he released her. He then stepped back and arched an expectant eyebrow.

“Nibblet, what the bloody fuck is going on?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I tried to do it without alerting anyone, but I couldn’t find her necklace! I destroyed everything she was wearing but I forgot it was probably the victim who was going to wear it. I messed up, I'm so sorry!”

Spike often forgot just how young she was, but at this moment it was not hard to remember that she was still a teenager. She looked so disappointed in herself that he couldn't help it. He softened immediately. She had tried to help her friend, she had probably saved that girl's life and now she was devastated because she was unable to hide it from her school-master. The school-master who was supposed to be the one who took care of her. No wonder she hadn't wanted to go to school.

He realized this must have been what his slayer had to go through as well. Yet another insight into Buffy and her trust issues.

“I’m sure you tried, love.” He said soothingly he pulled Alex into a tight hug.

He felt rather than saw her nod

“I’m sorry that I got you involved.” she said in the smallest voice he had ever heard her use. If anything would get to him, that voice would. Spike was about to try and comfort her more when she seemed to shake off her guilt, and try and deflect from her misstep. "It won't happen again."

He released her than, with every intention of giving her a stern talking to, none of this was her fault. And she shouldn't think of it that way.

"Nib--"

“How did you do that in there? How did you know about the club?”

“There’s always a club, pet, and there's always a cheeky nickname like Coco or Tub or that rot.” he answered trying not to sound smug.

“And the last name?” she asked curiously. “ How did you know to use Worley?”

“Donahugh is Scottish,” Spike said by way of explanation. “A Scottsman would not be the noble.” he paused. “Probably.”

“Who the fuck are you people?”

Blondie had followed them into the room. She stood with her arms akimbo and her eyes wide, she was looking from one to the other, clearly comparing features.

“Is he really your brother?”

Spike hesitated. He didn’t like being called Alex’s brother, it felt like a demotion.

“Something like that.” Alex replied. "You shouldn't be here."

Mag’s eyes narrowed and he air around her went electric and charged and suddenly the room was full of a high sharp screech that made Spike feel like someone had shoved a sword through his skull.

He would have probably been on the floor in a second but Alex cried out and at the sound of her voice Spike saw red. He threw himself across the room, grabbed the blonde by the neck, and slammed her into the wall--it wasn’t enough force to trigger a response from the chip but it issued a warning jolt which Spike ignored.

The noise vanished as quickly as it came.

“Try that again, Blondie, and I will find some very creative ways to make your ears bleed.” He warned seriously.

Blondie was petrified, he could see that. He could hear her pulse pounding and she grabbed at his hands, but her struggles were less than ineffective. A strong hand however pulled him back.

“Spike, stand down!” Alex exclaimed.

He released the girl, but maintained his proximity as a warning.

“He’s a vampire!” She choked out.

“No shit, Sherlock." Alex replied rolling her eyes. She reached out to help the blonde to her feet.

“Alex, why is your brother a vampire?”

“The usual reason.” Alex snapped back. “Listen, Mags, thanks for saving our asses in there but we should go.”

Mags’s wide eyes were fixed on Spike. It was actually quite fun to scare the witch. It was a pleasant reminder that he was still something to be scared off. He glared at her pointedly and play lunged. She flinched back. He laughed.

Blondie backed up into the wall eyeing him warily.

"He's not going to hurt you." Alex told her.

"I don't believe you." She shot back her voice was high and still petrified.

Spike had to admit, the girl had moxie. She had never faced a vamprie before, that was clear. She was also scared out of her mind, but she had still tried to neutralize him.

"If you kill me I-I-I know people who will come after you!"

Spike chuckled and turned his back, unconcerned. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and made to light it.

“You shouldn’t smoke in here.” Alex said automatically grabbing the lighter out of his hand.

“Evil, bit!” Spike said turning with preternatural reflexes to grab at it. "Oi, Give it back!"

The blonde, Mags, was looking from one to the other and she seemed to finally put it together.

“Vampire. half-vampire, is he your Father? Is that a thing that can happen?”

Spike felt an odd thrill that someone was able to guess at it just from looking at him next to Alexis. He arched an eyebrow at Alex.

"Blondies a sharp one. Want me to eat her?"

The girl flinched but Alex, clearly saw through him. She rolled her eyes and turned to her school-mate.

“Listen, witch-bitch, we’re the good guys. We keep away the monsters,” She said seriously. "Don't tell anyone."

Spike smirked and added.

"And if you do I will kill everyone you've ever met. In the most inventive ways I can think of. And I've been around for a long time." He vamped out and grinned as the Blonde uttered a horrified whimper and fled.



*****


"You didn't have to scare her half to death." Alex said as they pushed out into the London gray a few minutes later. "She would not have told anyone. Probably."

“What’s the fun in that, sweet bit?”

Alex rolled her eyes. Spike was unwinding an unfamilliar grey scarf from around his neck. He was also wearing actual trousers and a blue sweater. He looked like a completely different person. Right now, with his human guise firmly in place and wearing smarter clothes than Alex had ever seen him wear, he looked almost respectable. At least until he opened his mouth.

“And besides,” he said his voice went full vamp for a second again. “She hurt you, and you know what does to me.”

Alex fought the stupid dopey smile that threatened to spread across her face. Stupid, protective vampire.

“What’s with the get up?” She asked changing the subject.

“It was Prasad’s idea.” Spike said grumpily. “Said it would make me look less threatening. This sweater itches and I keep having to push up these bloody things.”

He was, of course, referring to his glasses which were still perched on his nose. He threw his duster on and then carefully folded them up before placing them in his pocket.

“Yeah, have I made fun of those yet?”

Spike glared at her.

“I can still eat you, delinquent.” he growled.

It was half past four and already dark. They were both grateful for the amount of sunlesshours that that the English winter afforded them. Spike swept down the block toward No.9, moving at an almost supernatural speed. Alex had to almost jog to keep up. She wondered for a second why Spike was hurrying. He looked distracted, she almost asked him what was up but then it hit her and she felt like a total idiot. She had taken him away from Buffy when she probably needed him.

They stopped at an intersection and waited for a few cars to pass.

“Spike, How is the exam going?” Alex asked tentatively.

Spike kept going. He exhaled blue-gray smoke and shook his head.

“Last I saw her she was with--” He paused. “That woman.”

“What woman?”

“That would be the midwife Prasad’s dug up.” he shuddered unconsciously. “Mrs. Cho.”

Alex stopped dead in her tracks. She tried to imagine someone that could scare Spike but whom he would allow anywhere near Buffy. She was coming up blank.

“She was in the middle of the exam when I left,” he said. He dug around in his pockets for his phone and checked it without slowing. It seemed that nothing was amiss as he pocket it again and came up with his pack of cigarettes. ”Should be just about done now abouts.”

His tone was carefully neutral but Alex caught the note of disappointment and she felt her chest go tight. He had to give up seeing his own child to come and pick her up from school because she had been suspended. Because she had been caught.

And he had to come bail her out. She fucked up.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” she hated how small her voice sounded; but lots of things were occurring to her at once She had not just fucked up with school she had put them all in danger. She jeopardized their cover. They might have to go on the run again-- this time without the resources. And on top of all of that, she had taken him away from Buffy who was probably petrified and going through her exam without him. And she maybe just robbed him on his chance to see his own child. Her cheeks went hot and she redoubled her efforts.

Spike seemed to only just notice that she had fallen behind, but she had started moving again, this time she had streaked passed him.

“Minion?”

“It hasn’t been that long, we might be able to make it if we run. I mean those things go for a while and there are tons of tests and stuff right?” she said. “C’mon!”

Spike jogged up to her.

“Nibblet--”

“Also they have to set up the machine so that would take some time too. I’m really sorry we can be there in no time at all.”

Spike whirled her around.

“Nib, what’s going on?” he asked. “What are you sorry for?”

“I fucked up.” She said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you."

“You saved a girl's life today, Alexis!”

“I know but--”

“No buts! There should not be a but!”

“Spike, we’re supposed to laying low, people are after us we need to be flying under the radar.” She made to shrug off his grasp but he held fast. She stopped struggling. “And Buffy's ultrasound--I took you away from that. This is your kid.”

Spike cocked his head to one side, and studied her with laser bright eyes.

“You are my kid.”

Alex felt herself flush. She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She started to say something quippy but Spike cut her off.

“Alexis, sweetheart, you are my heart and you are my miracle.” he said holding her by the shoulders. “Bloody hell, Nib, I’m the one that fucked up. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you were some sort of burden--You aren’t taking me away from anything. I shouldn't have let you think for one second that you shouldn't call me. I will always come for you.”

Alex was avoiding his eyes. She smirked. “With bells on maybe?”

“I’m being serious, nibblet. Do you have any idea how frustrating it was to be called your bloody brother in there?” he continued. “but I can’t correct her. I can correct you. You are my daughter. and just because there is a new one coming doesn’t change anything about that.”

Alex bit her lip and allowed herself to be pulled into a tight hug. She had wanted to hear this from him all her life. Hearing it now, it felt like too much good. Like somehow she had asked for it. She suddenly felt guilty. Could she have been a better slayer or was she subconsciously doing less that she could so that her father would have to come and rescue her?

Spike released her and allowed her a few seconds to recover. He lit a cigarette and brushed ash and tears off the front of his shirt. The latter of which he mercifully did not mention.

“Thanks, Dad.” she said as she brushed passed him and hurried down the sidewalk.

Spike caught up to her, he had a wide dopey grin spread across his face. Alex ignored it. She preceded him down Wilton Crescent and held open the door for him. Downstairs, Raj, Buffy and another young man with almond shaped eyes were all sitting around the kitchen table with Chinese food. The second they crossed the threshold into the kitchen and Buffy stood up and turned around.

“Alexis Christine Angelique Veronica Summers Pratt!” She bellowed. She looked halfway between livid and petrified.

Alex stopped short.

“Who?”

Buffy waved her hand dismissively somewhat diminishing the gravitas of her fury.

“You have too many middle names, Lex.” She said. “Now, imagine my surprise when I come out of my exam to find out that you’ve gone all rebel with out a cause. And Spike had to go pick you up from the principal's office!”

Alex turned to glare at Raj.

“You blabber mouth!”

Raj looked affronted.

“You try saying no to her!” he shot back.

“You spineless little worm!”

“He is not on trial here, young lady!”

That made Alex pause.

“Young lady?” she demanded.

Buffy ignored her.

“You got suspended? You’ve been there for a month! What the hell could you get suspended for?”

Alex turned to face Buffy. She matched the older girl’s stance inch for inch. Alex lifted her chin. She was a hair’s breadth taller than Buffy.

“Slaying.” She said.

“Slaying?” Buffy repeated. Her eyes went wide as she realized what Alex had meant by that. Her entire highschool career suddenly came crashing down on her. “Slaying!”

Spike, who had been hanging back to watch the uproar, curled his tongue behind his teeth to smirk at his slayer, clearly amused.

“Spike took care of it.” She said.

Buffy arched an eyebrow and looked from her to Spike. The vampire was leaning against the door jamb. He looked on with amused non-chalance.

“She slayed a vengeance demon.” he explained patiently.

“She slayed a vengeance demon?” Buffy repeated, She turned to look at Alex more softly now. Alex wondered how often Buffy had had to slay something under the parental radar.

“You didn’t eat her did you? The vengeance demon?” Raj asked Spike tentatively. “Because my family has known this school for generations.”

Spike rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Wasn't worth the head ache."

Raj rolled his eyes good naturedly but looked relieved nonetheless. Buffy looked at him in askance.

“Shouldn’t this be a thing we worry about?"

“I’m not.” He said. “these schools keep all sorts of shit under wraps, pregnancies, royal scandals, all kinds of crap gets swept under the rug in the name of discretion at these places. S’why I picked it. POSH toff factories always keep secrets.”

“Didn’t you go to Eton?” a voice spoke up. The Asian newbie was leaning on the counter at the other side of the room.

“S’why I know about the discretion pact.” Raj said sagely.

“You got her out of it?” Buffy asked turning to Spike. “And hey! Non-violent conflict resolution, who even are you?”

“Didn’t kill the bird, didn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Spike said and then changed the topic abruptly. He strained very hard to keep his tone neutral but Alex grinned at him encouragingly. He took a step toward Buffy and hesitated. “How did the test go? How’s the sprog?”

Buffy shrugged. “I haven’t seen it yet. I was going to call in Simon when Raj told me about Lex and I wanted to wait for you--”

Spike cut her off, by cupping the back of her head and bring her in for a long kiss. Buffy looked shocked for a second but then melted and kissed him back. When they broke apart, her eyes were very bright. They had been sleeping together for ages but this was the first open show of affection they had displayed. Alex and Raj exchanged looks.

The vampire and slayer were murmuring to each other in low tones.

There was an Asian guy who had stood when they entered but as of yet had not said anything just looked befuddled until Alex took pity on him. She assumed he was the Simon Buffy was talking about.

“Best take them in now.” she whispered. “else we are going to have to clear out of here.”

Simon looked at her like she had grown a second head. Thankfully a second later Spike managed to pull himself out of his Buffy-stupor.

“But the woman had left, yeah?” Spike had raised his voice to indicate he was talking to the people n the room.

“I’ve never seen her at night.” Simon said straightfaced.

“She did give me a whole ton of that tea though, so nothing to worry about there.”

Spike pulled away from Buffy but kept his hand on the small of her back.

“C’mon, love, let’s take the sprog's first picture, yeah?”

"It is not a 'sprog', Spike. It's a fetus."

The Asian guy cleared them out of the room with assurances that they would be right back.

“Tea?” She questioned of Raj as they left.

Raj handed Alex a cup of tea.

“You don’t want to be in there with them?” He asked pointedly.

Alex was smiling after them. She shook her head.

“Let them bond.” She said. “I’ve seen pictures of myself before.”

Raj slung his arm around her shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.” Alex said. “The first actual friend I met a Holland House and she’s a vengeance demon. Starting to feel just a tiny bit cursed.”

“You’ll make friends eventually, Lex.” Raj said. “Drink your tea.”

Alex nodded distractedly and took a deep draught of her cup and promptly spat it on the floor.

"Who made tea out of a dead raccoon and ketchup?"


****


The next morning when Alex got to Holland House the whispers behind people’s hands had doubled. And some of them weren’t even really bothering with the whole behind the hands part. Alex mentally congratulated herself for correctly predicting this was going to happen and tried desperately not to be affected by it.

It started as soon as she entered and didn’t let up as she crossed to her first period. As soon as she stepped through the door, the classroom would go silent and then quickly erupt into little hissed whispers. It happened before every class. Thankfully, the teachers seemed to be unaffected by the rumours or were given strict orders to ignore them.

Gemma was conspicuously absent, as was Hannah. But the others in their little group closed ranks. Then stared her down as she walked passed them and took her seat at the far corner of the room. She tried not to take it personally. She was not entirely successful, but she didn’t push the issue.

At lunchtime she walked passed their table and did her best not to be disheartened when the girls all heaved a collective sigh of relief that she hadn’t tried to come and join them as if nothing had happened. She, instead, sat alone and tried to remind herself that she was living with her long dead parents and she had her own friends. And this would build character.

She had packed a particular favorite book to ease the sting of being shunned. She had just gotten to her favorite part when to her surprise she was interrupted by a clatter of a lunch tray across from her.

“Pride and Prejudice? A bit cliched, don’t you think, Alex?”

Alex looked up to see Mags Worley-Donahugh looking at her expectantly.

“Wh-Where’s the rest of your posse?” Alex asked dumbly, she was a bit more than floored to see the witch join her.

“Usual place.” Mags said carelessly gesturing over her shoulder to the table she usually occupied. The rest of the poshy-posse was staring at her in askance. “I’m sitting here, I think.”

ALex just stared at her until Mags rolled her eyes and reached over to close her book for her.

“Put the book away,” she said. “Didn’t anyone teach you it’s not okay to ignore your friends?”

Alex put the book away.

There are some things you can’t get out of without somehow becoming friends. Apparently battling a vengeance demon was one of those things.



*****



Author's note: So sorry this is so late! But I've just moved! Exciting! I'm working ont he next few chapters as we speak and the next one will be out way sooner. I promise. Send me reviews, they egg on the muse!
Chapter 27 - Complications by Petra
I know that this is late. I know it's been months, but I've been doing a full re-haul of all the earlier chapters, adding a little and generally refreshing everything. More soon, I promise!

Chapter Twenty Seven - Complications

He could smell the takeaway from upstairs once they crossed the threshold, from the way the minion perked she could smell it too. He hid his disappointment well, if they had ordered food, the likelyhood of being able to see the his baby was minimal. He supposed there would be a print out like on the telly. They hurried downstairs where Buffy, Raj and Simon were eating Chinese food. Buffy stood as soon as she laid eyes on the teenager.

“Alexis Christine Angelique Veronica Summers Pratt!” She pronounced angrily.

Alex looked confused for a second. She glanced helplessly at Spike who was too distracted convincing himself that a picture would do just fine, and he probably would not even know it was his kid. It was probably the size of a peanut.

“Who?”

Buffy grimaced which dampened her haughty effect but the slayer pressed on. Spike leaned on the doorjamb and watched Buffy attempt to play bad cop.

“You have too many middle names.” She said flapping her hand dismissively. “And in any case, bury the lead-much? You’ve gone all rebel with out a cause. And Spike had to go pick you up from the principal's office?”

Alex turned to Raj, livid.

“You blabber mouth!” She exclaimed.

“You try saying no to her!” Raj replied trying to look harmless.

“You spineless little worm!”

“He is not on trial here, young lady!”

That comment made both Buffy and Alex freeze. Spike caught Raj’s eye at this point, which was a mistake because he looked like he was about to laugh

“Young lady?” the damphyr demanded, She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stepped forward.

Buffy met the challenge. Alex was maybe an inch or so taller.

“You got suspended? You’ve been there for a month! What the hell could you get suspended for?”

“Slaying.” She said.

“Slaying?” Buffy repeated. She looked over at Spike and that back at Alex. “Slaying!”

“Spike took care of it.” The girl said dismissively.

The vampire couldn’t help the grin at that. There was something in the way she said it, like it had been a given he would find a way out of it.

Buffy arched an eyebrow and looked from her to Spike. He tried to school his features away from awe at the thought that he had managed to somewhat parent his offspring, to something resembling support.

“She slayed a vengeance demon.” he explained patiently.

“She slayed a vengeance demon?” Buffy repeated, then her eyes widened comically as the ramifications hit her all at once.

“You didn’t eat her did you?” Raj asked. "Because My family has known this school for generations.”

Spike replied with studied nonchalance. He had wanted to eat her. He had wanted to kill her painfull and then eat her. “Wasn’t worth the head ache.”

Buffy scowled at Spike’s amused face and turned to Raj who looked irritated but not too alarmed. She smacked him frustratedly.

“Shouldn’t this be a thing we worry about?”

Raj coughed away his mirth. “Not really these schools keep all sorts of shit under wraps, pregnancies, royal scandals, all kinds of crap gets swept under the rug in the name of discretion at these places. S’why I picked it. POSH toff factories always keep secrets.”

“Didn’t you go to Eton?” A voice spoke up. Simon was leaning on the counter at the other side of the room.

“S’why I know about the discretion pact.” Raj said sagely.

“You got her out of it?” Buffy asked turning to Spike. “And hey! Non-violent conflict resolution, who even are you?”

“Didn’t kill the bird, didn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Spike said and then changed the topic abruptly. He strained very hard to keep his tone neutral but Alex grinned at him encouragingly. He took a step toward Buffy and hesitated. “How did the test go? How’s the sprog?”

“I haven’t seen it yet.” She said with a shrug. It hadn’t really occurred to her not to wait for him, he had seemed so excited about the scan. “I was going to call Simon when Raj told me about lex and I wanted to wait for you—”

Spike’s studied casual posture dissolved in an instant and his eyes found Buffy’s. She smirked but didn’t finish the sentence, Spike crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into a quick kiss.

It took everything he had to pull away from her, to let their contact end with a single kiss.

“You waited for me, luv?” He murmured.

She smiled.

“Of course.” She said managed to get out. Her arousal rose up around her like perfume and Spike had to tamp down on his own reaction to being near her. “Simon said it was the least he could do.”

He didn’t even try to stop himself from going all soppy. She had made Simon wait. The kiss was brief but powerful. He didn’t allow himself to make anything for of it, there was an audience of three after all, but he cupped the back of her head like he knew she liked and was rewarded with her blushing prettily.

“It is at that.” he agreed. “but that woman has left, yeah?”

“I’ve never seen her at night.” Simon piped up. He seemed to enjoy the bewildered, disturbed faces of Spike and Buffy at his pronouncement.

“She did give me a whole tub of that tea though.” Buffy said. “ So, nothing to worry about there.”

She turned away from him and the spell was broken. Spike realized rather belatedly, that this was the first time they had ever been affectionate. They had fucked a bit, and things were always just a little hot and heavy when they were together, but this, this was different. He had pulled her into a kiss and she hadn’t pulled away. Before he could read too much into it, Spike forced himself to suggest they start the test. He could feel the half formed verses already beginning in his head.


*****


Buffy remembered that day back in that Prague rave-warehouse when Spike had pressed her down on that couch and tapped out the heartbeat of their child so that she could hear it, so that she would know that she was carrying a child--a baby and not some sort of demon. At the time she had been so close to triggering the nuclear option, but Spike’s simple gesture had been enough to quiet down the abject terror for a time. It was not, however, enough to get rid of it entirely. She was never going to keep that level of worry at bay permanently and right now she was all sorts of terror high tide.

She was having a baby.

She let her head fall back and tried to keep her breathing even. She didn’t want to have another panic attack. She was sitting back on Alex’s oversized beanbag chair that Raj had thoughtfully dragged down from the teenager’s room about to have an exam. And after that exam she was going to have a baby. A squalling infant.

With Spike.

Spike who was standing next to her standing, if anything, more nervous than she felt. he was trying and failing not to fidget. He had been pacing, but after Simon shot him two irritated looks inside of three minutes while taking her blood and the vampire stilled. Now, he was sitting awkwardly next to her on the bag.

She took his hand--more as something to do than to take any actual comfort in his physical presence.

Simon smiled at her reassuringly as he neatly packed away the ampules of blood he had just taken. Blood for blood tests about the baby.

The one that she was having with Spike. She needed to focus on the tiny little baby socks and the amazing baby smell and not the rising panic. Simon was packing away the blood, why was he packing away the blood?

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why are you putting those away?”

“Don’t freak.” Simon said holding out his hands. “I need to run some tests, and I can’t do those here.”

Buffy took a long deep breath. She had prepared to get all the scary answers now. She had worked up to it and drank a bunch of the tea that tasted like feet. She was all kinds of ready to rip off the band-aid and now she had to wait. The thought made her feel like someone had grabbed her guts and pulled downwards. She nearly struggled to her feet but Spike caught hold of her shoulders keeping her on the bean bag chair.

“Wait, you need to run tests? I don’t get to find out now?” Her voice came out higher than she liked, thin and hysterical. It was a little embarrassing, but she couldn’t help it. “Do I even get to see her?”

Spike shifted behind her. She could feel his every move and every unnecessary breath. Every shift he made made her sink lower into the seat, She wanted to know what idiot designed these things, they were impossible to get out of and irritating to share.

“Spike! Stop moving!”

He held her fast.

“I will once I know you’ll stay on the bloody thing.” Spike replied. It was infuriating that he was so calm in all of this. Wasn’t he supposed to be the unstable one?

“Why are you so damn calm?”

Spike’s smile was so understanding it made her immediately regret waiting for him so he could be at this thing.

“We’ll get to see the nipper, pet. I’m sure of it. Else why bother with that contraption, that right, doc?”

The hands on her shoulders slung themselves around her waist and pulled her close. She realized this was supposed to be a tender moment. This second of togetherness before they saw their child for the first time. She was supposed to be swept up in the blue of his eyes or how near she was to him. But all she could do was be glad that he was on her side because those piercing blue eyes were now focused on someone else.

“Right.” Simon said easily. Buffy distracted herself with thinking about Simon for a second.

Simon was an enigma. He was so young and yet, he was one of the few humans she had ever seen that was immune to Spike’s threatening stare. He was grinning boyishly at them turning some knobs and pressing buttons. “Both of you maybe need to take a breath, this is not a complicated procedure.”

He looked amused which was infuriating but before she could say anything about it, he spoke again.

“Buffy, you will be able to see your child today, I promise. But due to the, er, circumstances, I cannot do most of these tests here, I need to outsource this.”

Spike arched an eyebrow.

“That a dig at gadget?”

Simon was typing something onto the machine. “Gadget?”

“Spike likes nicknames.” Buffy clarified. She had managed to calm her breathing. But every thing that Simon did seemed to be taking forever. She was worried about speaking up, she didn’t want any chit chat to postpone her ultrasound.

Simon placed a few more excruciatingly slow changed to the machine and then removed his rubber gloves--thoughtfully he used yellow one. He reached into his bag, and produced a tube of ultra-sound gel, which he held out to Spike.

The vampire looked at it questioningly.

“I know about the nicknames,” the dark haired man said. “Raj and I do talk occasionally. I was questioning the reference. Take the gel, spread it over her abdomen, I know you’re not going to let me touch her.”

Spike grinned.

“Damn straight.”

“It’ll be cold.” Simon said helpfully. He turned to Buffy. “It’d be warmer if your damn vampire would just let me do it.”

Spike growled lowly.

Buffy rolled her eyes at the posturing and lifted her shirt. Spike spread the gel on her stomach after pressing a quick kiss above her belly button. She flinched at the temperature.

“Hohh, that is cold!”

The vampire grinned.

“Worth it.” he said.

Simon shook his head and pressed the sensor to her Buffy’s belly. Almost instantly the images ballooned onto the screen. Buffy’s irritated expression disappeared instantly. She was mesmerized. Spike’s grip on her loosened, but she didn’t notice. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. She was astonished at the depth of feeling. Like she was a kid again and she needed to soak up every second of the image of her baby on the screen. It was like it to was too good and someone would be around to take it away from her so she couldn’t waste even a fraction of a second of not being absorbed in what she was seeing.

She had always thought that she would be one of those women who would look at her own ultrasound and have to be shown which blobby smear was her child-instead she would see it as brightly as day and she couldn’t breathe.

“Is that her?”

There was something in Spike’s voice was strange, heavy and sweet.

This is what they mean when they say thick with emotion, Buffy mused. She wondered if this was Spike’s version of speechless.

“Those three blobs there? Head and shoulders?”

She processed this at the back of her mind, she was too focused on what was in front of her. When she was little, Buffy remembered being so excited about something she developed a kind of laser focus, it was her mind trying to memorize everything about what excited her. It was happening now, she tried to take in every smudge, every ridge and detail of the child on the screen in front of her. She couldn’t look away, she couldn’t make herself miss a millisecond of her baby being on the screen.

“Is she okay?” She demanded. “Is she healthy? Simon, please answer me, is she okay?”

Simon was not saying anything; he was looking at the images on the screen as intently as Buffy and Spike were.

Buffy realized that she was crying, there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She only became aware of them once a droplet peeled off her chin and dropped on to her collar bone.

“Simon!”

The scientist had the grace to look chagrined.

“Buffy, please, I need to study this.”

“Simon.” Spike’s tone was dangerous.

“I know,” was the dark haired man’s reply. His voice took on a weird reedy quality. “Other than the fact that it’s an abomination and a mystical impossibility, we have a problem.”

“Don’t fucking tell me we have a problem, Zhang, tell me what the bloody problem is!” Spike’s voice was high and desperate.

Buffy couldn't look away from the screen, she thought maybe she could distinguish the head and the shoulders and maybe even the bottom. She was barely registering what was happening behind her.

“Spike, calm down. I can promise you; Your, er, progeny is healthy. 10 fingers, 10 toes, perfectly human, perfectly well developed, there are just three of them.”

That snapped Buffy out of her daze.

“Three?”

Simon nodded.

“Triplets.”


*****


He stood facing the lights of the city taking in every dusty smear and every dull twinkle sprawled over the desert.

He fucking loved Los Angeles.

It was a city that didn’t make sense. No one was from here, no one belonged here. It was a playground not a place. A fairyland perched at the edge of a desert populated by vacuous cows and worker drone bees. It was bereft of the depth of history and teeming with filth and psychoanlysis. And on every freaking corner there was a motherfucking bubble-tea place.

And he fucking loved bubble-tea.

“Sir?”

“Ah, Meecham,” He said magnanimously turning on his heel and spreading his arms. Meecham was a gangly slip of a redhead with an acne problem. Someone's nephew no doubt. He looked barely twenty, then again the older he got, the younger everyone else looks.

His office was a tasteful tableau of leather and laminated hardwood, a universe away from his old digs, the door knob for one thing. He had just finished a call on his very official phone on to his matched desk set.

“What can I do for you?”

“Er-” Meecham stammered. “Sir, you called me in.”

The older man was nodding maniacally, he had called Meecham in, but the hilarious confusion that quickly crashed across his face before he tamped down on it and arranged his feature in a neutral mask.

“And consummate professional that you are, in you came!"

He had gone pale and shake-y. Interns here dropped like mayflies-the man reveled in the desperate attempts to keep calm.

God, he loved working here. The word just didn’t have enough sycophantic, mousy little PA’s.

Wolfram and Hart was not on the good side of things though contrary to popular belief , they were not wholly on the wrong side of things either. They were on their own side. A made-up side. It was a beautiful place and could cause so much trouble.

And that was a cause he could get behind.

“Do you know why I’m here, Meecham?” It was the first time he had ever called Meecham by his real name and Meecham actually flinched. He had been told that the last thing he did before firing his PA was learning the sad fucker’s name.

“Valuable Experinece, sir?”

“Do you usually address your better with “sir”, Meecham?”

He cringed, but obviously didn't know a better way to address him.

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you know who I am, Meecham?”

“The Project Coordinator of the Genesis Project.”

“And did you hear about how I got here?”

Meecham’s eyebrows shot up.

“A round of poker against the Senior Partners for your soul?” He stammered.

“Oh?”

He couldn’t seem to help himself.

“Is that right, sir?”

The Project Coordinator arched an eyebrow. And cower-y Meecham returned instantly. He stood awkwardly waiting for him to indicate what was going to happen. This, of course, tickled him more than anything. He was slowly working his way through the mailroom of the place. He had started putting out false reasons for his very meteoric rise. The last one had been named Chip. He played Tennis.

But, despite his inexperience he was the only one who had any understanding of the two other parties in this little pond, the only other entity that had any experience with hybridization of supernatural creatures. And the Watcher’s Council

In short, Ethan Rayne was clearly the only choice.

“He ripped up my contract.” He said with a grin.

The boy nodded slowly.

Ethan studied him. The boy didn’t look awed like Ethan would have thought. Instead he looked interested, alert. Ethan filed that away for future use.

“Meecham, I’m going to need a meeting with the heads of special projects--Let them know I’ve just spoken to Dara Laird?”

The spindly red-head nodded and bolted.

The smile vanished off his face. Damn that Laird, he had thought that she was competent. He had thought she was ruthless, he had also thought that she was good and broken. Able to focus everything and channel all her energy to her singular purpose that gave her sad existence meaning. How did the bleeding heart Medecins sans Frontiers Dara Sutcliffe find herself Dara Laird experimenting on living beings?

Living beings that she has lost. And could not recover. In Almost two months expending Project resources. He hoped that the threat of a status meeting would be enough to make Laird get back in line--

Then again, maybe it would be nice to go for a jaunt in the old cowboy--he could force Ms. Summers out by applying force back home.
And oh the Fun he would have with Rupert Giles’s girl.

He was just about to turn back to his incredible, grubby view.

He was incredibly surprised when a few minutes later Meecham poked his head into the office. Ethan was so impressed that he actually inclined his head so that the maggot would know he was allowed to talk.

“The Head of Special Projects needs fifteen minutes.”

Ethan nodded him away. He arched an eyebrow and then followed him, wondering what it could be that Lilah wanted.



****



Sunnydale had fallen into a kind of rhythm. Patrol still happened every night, and while the Scoobs were not clocking in nearly the numbers Buffy had, they were still killing a vamp or two a night. It had become a massive team effort of distraction, long range weapons, and a little bit of glamour on Anya to make it look like it was Buffy who was walking with them.

It was after patrol, Mr. Giles has begged off and Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara were sitting in the corner booth of Carpaccio, a new Italian place that had opened next to the Espresso Pump. It was the only thing aside from a few of the grubbier diners that was open past 10 o’clock in the bustling metropolis that was Sunnydale.

“--so Joey says, Harris, You’re a helluva builder, but I’m the guttersnipe.” Xander was saying. The booth erupted into giggles.

“See you told it much better this time,” Anya commented.

Xander nodded tightly.

“Thanks, Ahn.” He said exchanging a knowing look with Willow.

Tara was letting the conversation flow around her, picking at her eggplant parm, and experiencing major order envy for her girlfriend’s pasta primavera.

“So enough about the real world. How’re things in Academia? they putting a lot of miles on the ol’ noggin?”

Next to Tara, Willow visibly slumped over.

“Well, that bodes well.” Xander said looking worried. “Got something to share with the class there, Will?”

“No,” Will replied. “Well, not on the school-front anyway. My paper topic went kinda kablooey in my political philosophy class so I’m not exactly living the collegiate high life.”

“Nonsense, Will!” the boy exclaimed. “You’re completely designing your own curriculum, they only let the really smart people do that.”

“Is that your class with Eisner?” Tara piped up.

Willow had been particularly frustrated in that class recently. It felt like her girlfriend was killing herself to impress this particular professor who was stubbornly refusing to see Willow’s brilliance. She had mentioned it the other day while she, Giles and Tara had been doing their monthly protection spell at the Magic Box.

Willow nodded miserably and Tara felt a rush of anger towards that particular professor.

“Baby, that man has it in for you.” she said.

“What’s this?” Xander cut in. “A member of the didactic profession not worshipping at the altar of Willow? Someone call the media!”

Willow rolled her eyes.

“Who taught you the word didactic?” she asked without venom.

“We’ve been playing Hooked on Phonics sex games.” Anya replied matter-of -factly. “Didactic was one of the words of the day. And I think that you are using it wrong, Xander.”

There was a small pause in which the rest of the Scoobs giggled awkwardly while Anya just grinned. Sometimes Tara wondered if she knew what she said was awkward and she didn’t care. Xander sure didn’t seem to take her comments well.

“Eisner is a terror,” Tara piped up after a few moments. “I did hear he’s brilliant though.”

“Brilliant and intimidating.” Willow said. “Seriously. It’s like I can’t say anything right in that class. I’m always shooting myself in the foot and then firmly inserting it in my mouth in his class.”

“Wow, those are some mixed metaphors you got there, Will.” Xander observed.

Willow nodded unhappily.

“Yesterday I tried to make a joke about Hamurabi’s code while I was at his office hours and it just went right over his head and I was left standing there like, uh, uh a chump!” she sighed. “I wish I could make something, just whip something up that I could take with me to places and I could just be charming. Like a charming charm!”

That got Tara’s attention. There was something about the way that Willow said that sat wrong with her.

“Like a spell something?” She said.

Willow nodded.

“Yes, exactly!” She said. “Speaking of which! I just finished a project I’ve been working on in that area. I figured out how to conjure a little ball of sunshine, like actual sunshine!”

“That’s great, Will!” Xander said. “That will be super helpful in patrol!”

Tara knew that she was being naggy and she could hear herself being annoying, but she couldn’t help it.

“I thought you were working on an aura purifier for Dawnie.” she blurted out.

Willow looked at her strangely and then waved her hand.

“Oh, that! I finished that ages ago! I dropped it off at Casa Summers before we even did the protection spell this month!”

Tara nodded and tired to relax the furrow of worry that crossed her face. If Will had finished Dawnie’s purifier on Monday then they had done their monthly protection spell on Tuesday, then did the sun burst spell after that. It was Friday now and that was a lot of magic to get done in one week. The monthly protection spell was not an uncomplicated bit of spellcraft either. It was there to protect the Magic Box the way houses are safe from vampires. Even with Mr. Giles it still took them most of the night to get it done.

Tara snapped back to attention, but the conversation had moved on to other things and she couldn’t very well just bring it up again to nag her girlfriend.

“Is it time for dessert yet?” Anya’s voice cut into Tara’s musings.

“Ahn, we talked about rushing through dinner.” Xander replied tightly.

Anya smiled and shook her head.

“Oh, this isn’t about going home to have sex,” she said. “This is about Chocolate lava cake.”

Willow’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! count me in!”

Xander looked thrilled. It was a rare day when Anya and willow agreed on something.

“Well, then by all means!” he said as he signaled for the waiter.

Tara kept the forced smile on her face, Willow was just taking a particular interest in the arcane. Recently her school was not going particularly well but everything on the witchy side of life was coming along nicely. Maybe Willow was just using it as a way to boost her confidence.She looked so happy to have finished that fireball spell. Tara made a mental note to bring up all the magic her girlfriend was doing. She would talk to Willow about it later.



*****


“Triplets, like three of them?” Buffy said absently. She had pressed a hand on her abdomen.

Simon looked nervous. He opened his mouth, but seemed to think the better of it and shut it again. However, Spike caught the hesitation.

“We’re going to need tests, aren’t we? real ones at a bleeding hospital?”

Before Simon could reply, Buffy interrupted him.

“Hospital? Why would we need a hospital? Triplets are normal right?” she demanded. “People have triplets, right? All the time? Right? Simon? Right?”

Spike didn’t look away from Simon but he did pull the panicked slayer into his arms. She allowed herself to be coddled. Spike held her for a second before his own nervous energy forced him to his feet.

“Multiples are common, yes.” Simon said finally. “ Especially where drugs are involved.”

“Drugs?” Buffy repeated, her voice hollow.

Spike froze. This had been intentional. He looked at Simon and saw what the boy had not continued. Of course they were having multiple. Multiple births were better for the Project’s bottom line. The wave of hate and hopelessness that was becoming very fucking familiar threatened to wash over him, but Spike forced it back. He tried to focus on what he could do.

“This is a whole ‘nother kettle of fish. We were ready for one child.” Simon said apologetically. “and the bulk of multiple pregnancies are not carried to term which means we would have to deal with multiple visits and multiple doctors..”

Spike set his jaw.

“We have to tell Oxford.”

Buffy whirled around wide eyed.

“Wesley? We have to call in Wesley? But Wesley is a big gun!” she stood. “We have to fire the big gun?”

Spike pulled her back into his arms and rocked her from side to side, trying to sooth her. Her panic was palpable.

“Shh, pet you need to calm down now.” He said knowing that she didn’t like o hear that. He then turned and raised his voice. “You might as well come in here!”

The door opened, Alex and Raj stumbled in, they didn’t even try to pretend they had not been listening to the whole thing. Alex’s lips were set in a grim line and Raj looked almost as panicked as Buffy.

“How do we proceed?”

“A multiple pregnancy is going to make keeping this secret a lot more difficult than we anticipated.” Simon said. “Triplets are almost always born premature, and by almost I mean 90% of the time. They are healthy though and Buffy’s slayer nature might help somewhat.”

Alex was studying Buffy worriedly, the slayer seemed to have gone into a daze, paralyzed with fear and uncertainly.

“Next time maybe lead with that?” Alex suggested.

Simon nodded, he didn't even try to argue.

Buffy had sunk back into the beanbag, Spike knelt before her.

“Are you okay, pet?”

When she looked up at him, her eyes were shiny with tears.

“Can I go?” she asked him. “I just need to go and be-- I don’t know but I can’t be here.”

And with that, she stood and strode out of the room. Spike shot a quick look at the others and then swept out after her.
Chapter 28 - Words, Words, Words by Petra
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Words, Words, Words


By the time he reached the top of the stairs she was gone, but he could hear her crashing through the upper floors. She was hurrying, but she wasn’t trying to be quiet—and she could be quiet. He wondered if she meant that as an invitation. Not that it would matter if it wasn’t, he tore after her like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

He wondered where she thought she was going, she had gone passed their room, and continued without hesitating.

He followed her up through No. 9, until the sound of a step ladder hitting the hardwood upstairs alerted the vampire as to where she was going.

The roof.

It was a blank space of roof tile and antennae; the Buffy decorating committee had not yet gotten to it, so it was still grimy from disuse. Spike figured Alex went up there to drink beers or smoke cigarettes or whatever teenaged girls did these days.

He pulled himself through the trapdoor. She had had a head start and she was already pressed against the low wall that separated her from a 50-foot drop to the streets below.

She retching pitifully, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the pavement. Spike hurried to her, shrugging off his duster to drape it around her. He brushed his fingers through her long dark hair and pulled it back off her face. He held that in one hand while rubbing her back with the other in small circles.

“I’ve got you, love.” He murmured soothingly. "Let it out. I've got you. Atta girl."

“I thought it was done, Spike.” She coughed out, she allowed the partition to take her weight for a moment. “I thought we got to the bottom of the Genesis Fuckery, but no! Here’s a lower place!”

She retched again, and again a few more times before shuddering to a stop. She tried to get up and would have fallen if Spike hadn’t been there to support her. It broke his heart to see her like this, she was blotchy and a few tears had managed to slip through her choke-hold control.

“You’re shaking, love, let me take care of you.”

“We’re having triplets.” Her voice was flat, she was still slumped over the wall staring at the ground below. “Do you know what this means, Spike?”

Spike didn’t reply, he just made sympathetic agreement noises.

Buffy stiffened under him, which alerted him. It should have alerted him more. She shoved him aside.

“Oi—Summers? What the—”

It was like someone had flicked a switch and just like that she was all piss and vinegar. Bugger but this was getting old.

"You can't keep running hot and cold on me like this you daft bint!"

“There was a committee, Spike! Those fuckers formed a committee!” she spat. “That sat there and decided that in vitro was the way to go because then there could be multiple babies! And then we can have all sorts of specimens to play with!”

She punctuated her angry with a few swift deadly jabs. Spike countered and parried easily.

“Exactly what—” He panted knocking a punch aside with a roll of his shoulder. He bobbed and dodged the next blow. “—is this tantrum is meant to be doing?”

He grabbed her wrists and pulled her up against him.

“Well, Summers?”

“If it had been beneficial to them they would have just made us have sex, Spike.” She spat, though she stopped actively fighting him. Her eyes were hard and cold like chips of green glass. “They took everything away, every choice! They would have taken that away from me! You! Taken you away from me! Like I don’t have enough freaking issues with trust!”

That made Spike stop. There was something there, something that made him stand straighter. She could have lost him. That's what got her knickers in a twist. They had always been in this together, since that first moment in that hall when she grabbed him, acting on instinct. It was something he had known from the moment he had known she was in the facility same as him, but she had never acknowledged it before.

The abrupt change made Buffy still momentarily. She studied Spike’s face, he consciously tried to keep his own emotions from spilling across his face.

It meant more to him than he wanted to admit, hearing her, bemoan the potential that she couldn’t trust him—because she did. He knew she did.
Somewhere along the line, he had become accustomed to being the punch line he was in Sunnydale. But they weren’t in Sunnydale, and he wasn’t that vampire anymore.

“Spike? Hello? Earth to the not-so-bleached wonder? How are you not 8 different kinds of rage-vamp right now?”

He released her suddenly.

It was a reflex. How could she ask him that?

“Are you bloody well joking?”

“What?”

She had tense, braced for the explosion.

But, oddly, it didn’t come. Usually a rage like that would bubble up into him and he would just release it, but the bloody chip had taught him to be cautious of those. Despite this, Spike had thought it would be hard to contain the demon right with such a blatant challenge. He thought it would be hard to pretend to be calm, but it wasn’t hard. He just felt the words coming out, and he was articulating a feeling that had already been cemented, and he was only just now acknowledging it.

“You don’t you think I’m fucking ragin’ out of my fucking mind?” He demanded. He didn’t lift his voice, he spoke matter-of-factly, detached. When he paused it left a hollow sound in the air behind him. “I’m livid as hell. I’m not usually cut out to be the waitin’ type but I’m sitting on top of this because of you.”

Her eyes widened, he wondered if she did that on purpose, she was flushed and breathing heavily, and he could drown in the deer-in-headlights look in her eyes.

She was absolutely scrumptious, but he managed to shake off the arousal.

“Spike—”

“You and the trips and Alexis.” He continued pushing his awareness of her to the side. He took a step closer to her, she didn’t step back. “Never thought I’d ever have a family, least not one like this. Didn’t know how much I wanted it until now."

He locked eyes with her, he had always been expressive, never one to hold back his responses, especially from the people who mattered to him. He tended to be unapologetic about the way he felt--at least until he got to Sunnydale. He had had to become more guarded but now he let her see. Let her see how angry and how hopeless and how terrified he was. Because he knew she was feeling the same way, but in Alex's words: she couldn't not be stupid about this. He could.

Her eyes filled with tears. She tore at them with the heels of her hands. Spike was at her side in a second, his hands slid around her waist and into her hair, pressing her tear stained face into his chest.

“I know, pet, I know.”

It was an impossible situation, and every time something like this happened, every time they peeled back a little more of the curtain, it just kept getting worse. And Every time they thought they were done, they had managed to process everything that had been done to them, another monster would rear its ugly head, another implication would make it that much unbearable.

They sank to the ground.

“Spike, they made me have children and then they made me have more and I am scared and I’m angry and I just want to go home, Spike. I want to go back. I want to hit delete or something. Nevermind trying to be normal normal. If I could just go back to being a normal slayer." Her voice broke. "I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Her breath hitched and allowed him to take her weight, finally saying all the things she had been thinking for weeks. He knew she was thinking about it, but she had never said it out loud.

“I don’t want this responsibility, I don’t want to be a mom yet, Spike, I'm just--I'm not ready.” She pressed her hands to her abdomen addressing the babies she had in there. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean not to want you but I thought there would be more other stuff first.”

He held her close and let her cry. She was heaving now, allowing the weight of everything to hit her. Allowing herself to finally cry about it, it was just them up there. No one else could see them.

Spike held her and listened.

“Don’t, Spike, don’t be nice to me. This is everything you want and I’m just— I don’t want it— And that makes me a horrible—I just—” Her breath hitched. “—I wanted it to be different. I didn’t want it to be like this! With me running and vampires and-and—” She seemed to realize just then what she had said and weight of what she said. “Shit. I— I didn’t mean to say I didn’t want them, Oh God, I said I didn’t want my children!”

She tried to fight her way out of his embrace but Spike was not having any of that. He tightened his hold on her until she stilled and relaxed again.

His own cheeks were wet, though it was mostly for her and the difficult situation she was in. The situation they were in. His outlook was her polar opposite.

Spike was simply over the moon. He was so guilty about it, he wondered if they had put a soul in him while he slept.

The pain had not been much of a problem for Spike. He had been tortured before and by more skilled hands. He had been cut open, had pieces shoved in his brain, he’d been burned and starved and rubbed raw before. He didn’t feel so violated, he didn’t ask the questions he knew she was asking now, because he had gone through it all, a year ago, and a hundred years ago. But that was then and he wasn't going to follow in his grandsire's footsteps and brood about it.

He supposed, however, that this might be harder for Buffy. He had never had to doubt his own feelings for something so fundamental as a child.

As far as he was concerned though, the children were just the kind of news he couldn’t properly process until they were a reality, all he knew was that he would move the earth and heaven to ensure that would happen. Everythig else could wait until they were here.

“You just told me that this is all you want in the world? And I told you I didn't want it! Why are you helping? You shouldn’t be helping me!”

Spike said nothing, just held her fast. He didn’t acknowledge the tears running down his own cheeks. He didn’t tell her than that he didn’t believe a word of what she was saying. He knew she was worried that she would resent their children, she was concerned that wouldn’t ever be able to get rid of this thing that happened to them. She was worried she’d take it out on them.

All bollocks, obviously. But he didn’t say anything.

He knew deep in his gut, in his blood, that the moment she laid eyes on them it wouldn’t matter. He knew she loved Alex more than she really realized yet. But he also knew telling Buffy Summers this before she was ready to hear it was not the idea of the year.

And so with this new-found patience, he managed to bite his tongue and just hold her.

It was very hard now to keep back the words. He knew he couldn’t say them.

It was like Chekov’s gun. He would see an opportunity every so often, but he would ignore it. They would tip toe around it, but he was sure some day or another it was just going to have to go off. And he had always been trigger happy, but his naked terror that what he had with her would shatter, kept him silent.

He felt the words so powerfully now. Holding her close and soothing her with his voice and his touch. Feeling her respond, feeling her melt into him like he was all she needed in the world, almost lulled him into murmuring them in her ear. He could tell her anything, he could make her understand.

He resisted the urge.

It was easy to be comforting, though. He knew that no matter what was coming, they would destroy. Because come hell or high water there was nothing, nothing in the world Spike was going to do to let anything happen to his family. But, she didn’t know that yet. She had never felt the onslaught of what Spike would sacrifice. Spike, who had braved an angry mob, circled the globe for a woman he loved but knew would never love him.

She was worried because she didn’t know that he would move worlds for her, for this. He knew she wouldn’t understand. So he said nothing and let her cry.

She let her head slump back down on his chest. Spike thought of saying something else, but he didn’t and then the silence stretched on too long that anything he did say would have to be meaningful—or profound. But right now he was content to just sit wrapped in her.

During his stay with the Genesis Project Spike had not fought back, he had not made a fuss. He had known that they were studying him, but he also knew that the less he gave them while he sussed out what it was they were looking for, the better. Spike was not good at keeping his temper in check, but he was a consummate survivor. He knew he had to bide his time. He might not have been able to do it had he not known that she was there with him.

Part of him was sure that the Scoobies would come and take her away, but after weeks of beeing able to sense her in a room just our of sight, or in the corridors, and he began to get discouraged. No one was coming for her, he realized. And that made the fight to be patient easy. She needed him and there was no way in hell Spike was going to fail her.

From time to time she would on the slab next to him and the smell would be overwhelming; Sweet like vanilla, but with an underlying spice to it, a tang of violence underneath, a touch of blood and gore that marked her as a warrior. He would know that smell anywhere. At first he had tried to say something, tried to communicate, but he quickly gave that up when upped his sedation.

Now that smell was everywhere, all around him. It had become a part of his scent. It was where he slept and ate. All while the slayer herself, an inferno of a girl, sat safe in the circle of his arms. He was sitting wrapped in everything he needed in the world. For once his thoughts around her scent didn’t center around taking her hard and making her his. He nuzzled her neck gently and dropped kisses on the top of her head. He just wanted to make her feel good, make her happy.

He let her sob about wanting to go home and needing someone to tell her how to be a mom and how to run a house.

He knew there was nothing to say to her that could really help her. Nothing would. She needed to be devastated right now, so he let her.

His hand flexed unconsciously. He wanted a cigarette. He pushed that thought away.

Buffy’s sobs were coming more regularly now, she needed a good long cry and he was determined to let her have it, but as soon as she started to shiver, he pulled the duster more securely around her and pulled her onto his lap.

He began to take deep steadying breaths, holding Buffy with almost vampiric strength, knowing that the pressure would calm her.

His instinct was spot on. Her breathing slowed. He felt her tension let up just a bit, he was holding her so tightly he could feel her muscles uncoil.

Buffy sighed unconsciously. She nuzzled against him.

“What are you doing,” She asked, Her body molded to his. “How are you doing that?”

Spike shrugged lazily. “Read about it on the internet.” He relaxed his grip.

Buffy’s grin was wry.

“Who told you about the internet?”

Spike chuckled.

“Told me about the internet?” he demanded. “Love, I have the whole day to kill, you don’t think I spend all of it watching telly do you?”

Buffy looked uncertain.

“Well, actually…” she said, giggling when he pulled away from her long enough to scowl. She relaxed back and let out her breath in a long
shuddering sigh.

“Want me to stop?” Spike questioned.

She shook her head. “No, it feels nice.”

“Just needed to calm you down a little, pet. All this worryin’, S’not good for the sprogs. Was told to keep you calm. ” He said. “And fuck if I’m going to face the wrath of that woman.”

That made her smile weakly.

“How are you so okay with all of this?” she asked

“M’ not.” He said embarrassed. “I just—S’going to be hard enough getting them to the delivery day, I can’t think past that just now.” He hesitated, but then pressed his hand over her belly. The mites were too small yet to kick. “M’ doing everything I can just to keep you safe.” He brushed his thumb gently over the slight curve. “‘ll do the whinging and the soul-searchin’ later. Possibly with a bottle of Jack.”

Buffy nodded, relaxing back into his embrace.

“What are we going to do, Spike?”

“Everything we need to do, sweet.” He said softly in her ear. “We burn the bridges when we get to them. Modus opperandi as far as I’m concerned.”

Buffy laughed softly to herself.

“Look at you with the latin.” She said. “Least we don’t have to worry about the kids’ vocabulary. They’ll be fancy and british.”

Spike haruphed.

“‘ve you heard the bit? The way she butchers the language--It’s clear she’s spent all her time in Scoobyland.”

Buffy’s bark of laughter spoke volumes as to her lifted mood, he felt her push her body up to settle back on her heels. Spike cupped her face, delighted when she didn’t pull away.

“You can’t worry about everything now, pet. We take things as they come.” He said finally. Now that her tension had ebbed he was a little more succeptible to the feel of her in his arms. “I talked to a high school headmaster today, didn’t fancy myself doing that ever again.”

“Again?” She repeated. “Weren’t you taught by a governess?”

“Until I was sent off to boarding school, yeah.” He said leaning back against the low partition that encircled the roof. He tried not to think about how good it felt to have her straddle him like this. She was so warm, all the time, and it was incredibly distracting. He knew that he maybe shouldn’t be thinking with his lower brain, but he was holding her, his golden goddess, she was straddling him and he could smell just how receptive she was to his attention. It felt so good to feel her wanting. To feel her rest her hands on his chest because that’s what she felt good doing.

“You were a delinquent? I never would have guessed.” She said with a coy grin. She leaned back and brushed against him.

Spike had to fight to keep his hips from bucking automatically. She was giving off pheromones, she had to, this was one side of her Spike knew he had total control.

“What can I say, baby?” He his voice a low velvety purr. “I’ve always been bad.”

Buffy’s hands had now found themselves around his neck and was playing with the hairs at the back of his neck.

He leaned into her touch, but let her take the lead. He was unsure how far she wanted to be taking this; she was petrified and sobbing only minutes ago, and then, he didn’t know what instinct made her do it, but she leaned into his neck and nuzzled against his sire mark. Spike moaned unconsciously and vamped out—the sire mark being a major erogenous zone for a vampire. To his surprise, Buffy’s response was a flood of perfume and just like that all the air around them was charged.

Baby wants to play.

“Did you want some proof there, pet?” He growled leaving his vampire visage in place.

He slipped his hands under her shirt and began to stroke her spine lightly. Her eyes fell closed and she leaned back, he slid his hands into her hair, massaging her scalp. She moaned and let her head fall onto his chest.

Spike smirked. This was fun, he knew her now, he knew what made her body sing, he knew how to tease her to make her beg. He did so love to make the proud slayer beg for him.

“What did you do to me?” She managed to whisper.

Spike cocked an eyebrow, he was just about to speak, but she cut him off with her lips.

“What makes you think I did anything, sweetling?” He said pulling her closer and positioning her so she was directly above him.

A part of him knew that this was a strange turn of events, she had gone from grieving to grinding remarkably fast but a hot horny slayer was not something he could ignore.

Buffy wiggled against him watching him for a reaction. He could’t help himself, but he was not one to be outdone. He reached down to where their bodies met and brushed her clit and his mark on her in the same stroke. She didn’t have time to cry out. Her sharp intake of breath was almost comical as she flooded her pants with her juices.

“Ohhhhhhh, Spike—” She breathed as she went boneless against him.

He would have taken her then and there, but he could sense that not all of her shivering came from her need for him. And Spike had no other thoughts other than getting her toward a place where he could ravish her properly.

In a flash he had gathered her in his arms and kicked open the trap door. She latched on his neck and was suckling at him drunkenly.
He didn’t notice anything in his haste to get them onto a surface that was horizontal. They didn’t even make it all the way downstairs. There were a few cramped apartment rooms on the fourth floor, he threw open one of the doors and pressed her against the bare wall. Her arms held above her head. The little minx bit her lower lip and looked up at him from under her lashes and then her arms were around his neck and she was on her tiptoes kissing him soundly. Spike pressed his hands against the wall and ground his rock hard erection against her belly.

“This what you wanted, luv?” He asked roughly.

She grinned devilishly.

“Don’t move your hands.” She said.

Spike’s interests were piqued. It was unlike her to take this much charge of their playtime, he usually took the dominant role, but this reversal was breathtaking. He arched a scarred eyebrow and kept his hands on either side of her head, trapping her in place.

He could feel her hands like hot little flames closing around his cock.

He pressed his forehead against hers and grinned. He had always been a talker in bed, He reveled in the impolite ramble that he was only allowed once he left his Victorian sensibilities behind. He couldn’t keep the words back if he tried.

“Whatever you want, pet.” He said. “You can have me however you want me.”

Her smile was predatory.

“I know.”

She had her back against the wall but managed to make him feel like he was the one in need of the extra support. She kissed him hard, climbing up his body until her legs were anchored around his waist.

“God, All yours, love, take me in.” He said breaking the kiss when he knew she needed to breath. “Please, baby.”

She pressed her hips forward reaching in between them to free his length from his trousers. She locked eyes with him as she sank down slowly, tantalizing him with every inch. She was holding herself just with the strength in her thighs.

Spike was lost. His eyes fell closed and he was concentrating on not moving, not taking her the way he wanted to, he wanted her to take charge. It took all his focus to keep from taking that away from her.

When she pushed him away using the strength in her legs, he almost protested, but he realized, why she was doing it. She threw her head back and started to ride. Using her slayer strength to anchor her to his hips, she bounced on him, he pressed his hands into the plaster desperately trying to remain still.

And then she squeezed her inner muscles and he groaned and reflexively thrust against her.

“Spike!” She cried out.

And Spike was undone, His control snapped and he was lost in the haze of the woman his demon considered its mate. His hips churned desperately. His hands were still pressed to the plaster where they had created two cracked, shallow depressions where his palms made contact.

“Let me touch you, I want to hold you, darling.” He murmured urgently into her hair.

She managed a smile between shallow breaths. She shook her head.

"Keep them there."

This was maddening. All he wanted to do was hold her to him, position her so he could hit the spot he knew she was looking for. There was a strangled whining noise that he realized belatedly was coming from him.

“No.”

“Please pet,” he begged. With her, he was accustomed to being the dominant partner in bed, but he was not above begging, especially when it could be so good. “let me touch you.”

“No.”

“Please, sweetheart.”

“No.”

Determined, Spike tried another tactic. He angled his hips so he would brush her clit with every bounce. Buffy cried out when she realized what he was doing, her movements became more erratic as she fought for control. Sensing the shift, Spike began to meet her hips, angling his thrust to just stop short of the spot where he knew she wanted him most.

“Buffy—”

“Yes!”

Spike continued his bruising pace, one of his hands flew down to her inner-thigh stroking his mark. Buffy’s eyes shot open and she arched into him, coming hard and keening his name. Spike gritted his teeth forcing himself to keep himself together as she thrashed apart around him. Her words were coming out in a barely intelligible babble.

He could make it so good, so good for her. If he could just hold on a little bit longer, he could make it so she couldn’t stand up tomorrow morning.
“M’ drownin’ in you, Summers!” He growled against her ear.

“Spike,” She whimpered between waves of her shuddering climax. She bucked and thrashed against him. “Spike, take,” She turned her head exposing her neck.

Spike locked eyes with her, he told himself she didn’t know what she was offering. She didn’t know what a mark on her neck would mean, she didn’t understand the implications of blood sharing, she had never been told.

He would give her anything she wanted—maybe not this. Not until she understood.

He added a twist to his hips that made his pubic bone bash her clit with every thrust pushing her over the crest of another orgasm.

“Spike!” She gasped. “Need!”

She was giving herself over to him completely—tilting her head to the side and offering her neck. Her trust in him was staggering.

Spike was an animal of pure instinct; he was seeing stars thrusting into her with abandon. He laved the mark Dracula had left and bit down hard with human teeth. He knew it was deep enough to draw a bit of blood. Buffy’s scream of completion corresponded trigger his own frantic release. Buffy’s hands twined around his head, there was minute trickle of blood that Spike staunched easily. They collapsed onto a heap onto the uneven hardwood floor.


*****


All of Buffy’s senses were in overload. She was spasming wildly on Spike’s massive cock was still thrust so far inside her that it was pressed against a knot of nerves that made her scream. And then his sotto voice rasped in her ear.

“I’m drowning in you. Summers.”

“Please, Spike!” She panted she didn’t know when she had become so wanton, but he drew it out of her. Made her desperate for him, desperate for the feel of his cock thrusting inside her and his powerful hands making her scream, but also, oddly desperate to give him this, offer her lifeblood. She wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but she heeded it. “Take!”

She was delirious, her hips churning mindlessly as she climbed to her peak.

And then his teeth on her neck and she came, again her previous orgasms propelling her to crest so hard she was unsure she could keep everything that was her together.

Everything that was her felt like it was being stretched, pulled taut, and then it snapped and she shattered.

“Spike!” Buffy moaned as he slowed to a stop inside her. His human mask was still in place.

He captured her lips in a deep kiss. One hand sliding up into her hair and the other stroked the mark he had left on her. It felt at the same time like she was coming home and shooting through the universe at light speed.

The mark he left on her ached, but when she looked down it looked more like a massive hickey than a vampire bite. Spike was studying her, looking apprehensive, they were a tangled mass of limbs, but Buffy was too drained to get up and even attempt to get dressed.

“Mm, I said you could—” embarrassed she looked down, unable to say the words. “you know.”

Spike smiled and kissed her soundly. The kind of kiss that made her mouth tingle and her knees weak, despite how sated she was she felt herself responding, Spike reached down and began to lightly stroke his mark. She couldn’t help it; she shuddered and arched into him, wet and wanting once again.

He dipped his fingers inside her, playing her like an instrument. Buffy arched and moaned. He took that opportunity to cover her mouth with his again.
She wondered, how Spike could make her feel like this, like he was everywhere she needed him at once, he could almost anticipate what she would want next. There was no way she could come again, and Spike lowered his mouth to the human bite he made on her neck and nibbled on it.

It was too much for Buffy, she couldn’t scream. She arched and came so hard she blacked out.

When she came to she was in bed, in their room, tangled in the covers. She pushed herself up, blinked and tried to shake the disorientation from her head. It was still night, she hadn’t been out more than ten minutes.

Spike was sitting across the room, dressed only in a pair of jeans and reading a book.

Buffy took a moment to study him; he was a good looking specimen, well made and chiseled out of alabaster. She could see the blue of his eyes from where she was sitting.

God, he was edible.

His eyes flicked up to her and he grinned. Buffy stretched and tried to stifle her frown.

“Hungry.” She said petulantly.

“Morning, pouty.” He said standing and sauntering over. “Gonna get it.”

He leaned down and captured her once again. Another earth moving kiss. Since when was Spike such a freaking good kisser? She sprang up into his arms and wrapped her legs around his hips.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the evady.” She scolded when he finally let her come up for air. “I wrote the freaking evad-y handbook, amateur.”

Spike frowned. Buffy smiled slyly and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Words later." She said. “Food first.”


*****

Hi all, happy fun chapter. We will return to plot this weekend. I promise. I know I've been bad about posting. But that ends now. I promise! Let me know what you think!
Chapter 29 - Surprise by Petra
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Surprise

Alex cocked her head to one side, listening intently. She and Raj were standing at the base of the ladder leading up to the roof.

Alex was hovering near the top, ready to jump down at a moment’s notice.

“Well, they’re fighting.” She recounted. “And they are using strong language. Buffy is yelling.”

“Alert the media.” Was Raj’s sarcastic reply.

Alex smirked. She turned her attention back to the faint conversation that was happening upstairs. When she turned back to Raj he was staring at her.

“What?”

“Sorry.” Raj observed. “You just, you look just like Spike when you do that. Is your hearing as good as his?”

Alex nodded, she had always been told that she looked like Spike, but this time without the wistful expression everyone got when they talked about him. Even her Uncle Xander would get weirdly nostalgic about the vampire from time to time, though he was not usually so quick to admit it.

Shaking away the mental butterflies, Alex turned her attention back to the argument upstairs. Whatever they were yelling about seemed to be over, she could hear the faint sounds of crying. She refocused on the task at hand.

“Yep.” She said. “Got all the perks and none of the downsides.” That made her pause, that thought deserved a caveat. “Well, the physical ones anyway. It is always a little weird that I always know which one of my friends is hooking up with which.”

There had been one or two awkward moments at the Slayer Academy. Maybe a little more than two.

Raj raised his eyebrows.

“You mean that you—” he paused. “So you can always—”

Alex nodded. “It’s easy to ignore it, but yes, if I was looking for it I could.”

“So when they—” he jerked his chin towards the roof to indicate who he was talking about.

The damphyr heaved a long-suffering sigh.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, gross.”

“Meh.” Alex said. “It’s just part of the make up, I can smell almost everything, you understand, after a while it all kinda blends together. They’ve basically contaminated every room in this place. Every surface, come to think about it.”

Raj looked horrified. “Every surface?”

Alex shrugged.

“S'not so bad. It's layered over other smells like chocolate and coffee and chinese take out.” She said non-chalantly.

Raj, however, was fixated. “The research table?”

“I’m afraid so.” She said. She laughed at the devastation on Raj’s face. “But seriously when your nose is this sensitive, you have to turn off your brain because otherwise you will smell everything. It’s like how technically, you can kinda always see your nose, but your brain just ignores it so it’s not constantly in your line of vision. No big.”

“No big for you--maybe. But now I know about it!”

He immediately pushed off the ladder and brushed himself off, as if that would help for some reason. Alex laughed at him.

“Welcome to my world.”

“I feel dirty now, thanks for that.”

“You get used to it.”

The look on her face was apparently too smug for even Raj to be able to deal with.

“Oh, don’t be all smug and world-weary!” Raj shot back with a triumphant grin. “Just you wait until you get to school tomorrow and all your little friends are all hot and bothered and after Spike.”

That hit her with a pang. She was sure if she had friends at school they would likely be crushing all kinds of things on Spike.

“Yes, because everyone is lining up to be friends with the crazy delinquent freak.” She said trying to go for aloof and cool, but sounding more whiney than she intended.

She didn’t look at Raj, she didn’t want to see the horror and then shame and the pity parade across his face. He didn’t say anything, clearly reading her apprehension on the subject. They were silent for a little while, it was almost worse.

“Is it a big fight?” he said finally, and artfully changing the subject. “Are they still yelling?”

Happy to be on level ground, Alex nodded. “It’s a big fight, but I think I’d be more alarmed if I couldn’t hear them.”

She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice. She really did, but lately, all the emotions were starting to strain her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a knob.” Raj said contritely.

Alex shrugged.

“No worries.” She said allowing herself to smile. “I’m just wondering how much of a shit your mom must have been to have gone through a school like Hell-and House.”

“My mum was Asian, there was a support group.” Raj deadpanned.

“Dammit.”

“You’re sure you can’t just fade into the background?”

Alex’s laugh was harsh.

“That ship has pretty much sailed.” She said. “I killed a Vengeance Demon in front of like half my class, that half includes a witch who hates vampires.”

“There have probably been worse things to happen at Holland House.”

“The witch is the leader of the popular crowd.” she said. "The queen B if you will."

Raj’s face fell.

“Yeah, you’re fucked.”

Alex opened her mouth to reply when—very abruptly—she stopped and grabbed Raj’s arm. How she managed to get around him and be pulling him off the ladder was unclear, but she was suddenly leading him away from the door.

“Incoming!” She said as she hurried them into a storage room and closed the door behind them.

It was a small bare cramped space, smaller than all the others at the top of the townhouse, probably part of the servant's quarters. Raj peeked through the old-fashioned keyhole. Not a second later, Spike and Buffy burst through the trap door locked in such a furious make-out session that it wouldn't have mattered if Raj and Alex had even been there.

They traded exasperated looks.

“Really?” Raj said shaking his head in wonderment. “and here I thought this was a serious moment.”

Alex rolled her eyes.

“They were fighting remember?” the damphyr pushed Raj aside to peek through the small hole. “That always leads to—" she recoiled. "Well, I’m scarred for life.”

Neither super-being had bothered to close the door.

“Are we trapped up here?” Raj whispered. “or can we chance going downstairs you think?”

“If you think Spike couldn’t hear us in this room if he wanted to, then you’re off your gourd.” Alex said not bothering to try and speak quietly. “We could set up bloody Hiroshima to go off right next to them and I doubt they would so much as come up for air.”

She opened the door and marched down the stairs. Raj followed after her more tentatively. Alex didn’t look back until they were on the third floor.

“Did they notice?”

Raj shook his head.

“They didn’t even look up.”



*****



Alex bounded noisily down the stairs. Raj could hear her throw herself onto the couch on the front room and switch on the TV.

The front room was one of the first rooms Buffy finished when she went on her decorating jag. She had removed the large Chippendale table and put it in the library. She replaced it with a large, deep couch, the American kind, with a built in chaise lounge and huge cushions. it had taken no convincing to get Spike to invest in a great, big plasma TV, he programmed it, set up a cable connection, and proceeded to watch an alarming amount of soap operas. Alex bought an unpronounceable IKEA side table that opened ingeniously. She kept it stocked with the kind of snacks that made Raj’s skin crawl.

Raj wondered how Americans could down that swill.

She was already tearing into a bag of Doritos when he got downstairs.

“What’s showing?” He asked.

“The Matrix.” Alex replied not taking her eyes off the screen. “The good one.”

Raj raised an eyebrow, as far as he knew there was only one Matrix movie, but then, he had grown accustomed to Alex’s future slips. “Spoilers." He said lazily. "Should I be excited?”

Alex sighed. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

Dammit. At this rate he was extremely worried about the state of pop culture in the future, specifically since most of the references Alex made Raj understood. If she was from 2018 shouldn’t there be more that flew over his head?

“Great.” He said. “Phantom Menace all over again.”

That made Alex smile, it was a secret smile, the kind that wasn't disappointed. The one that he saw very rarely when she was talking about the future. He considered asking her what was in store of the Galaxy far, far, away, but decided against it when a positive answer could change the course of history, Star Wars or otherwise.

“Uh, excuse me?”

Both Raj and Alex whirled around to see Simon awkwardly standing in the foyer holding his equipment.

Raj felt heat rise up his neck. He had completely forgotten that his friend was even there.

“Listen, I suppose I’ll heading back home now.” He said, “I will send in these samples to Bettina. She’ll keep it quiet.”

Raj stood. He was just about to apologies for his trouble, when he realized that he had called his friend with no notice and Simon had been able to show up straight away. Either that was a misplaced sense of guilt, or he simply had nothing to do on a Thursday night. He wondered suddenly if this was a fluke or if his friend was just desperately lonely—lonely enough at least to drop whatever he was doing and come to Raj’s aid. It must be hard to get along with your co-workers when you know that you are experimenting on living sentient beings.

Raj didn’t hesitate. If anyone would get along with the Pratts, it would be Simon.

“Have you seen this movie, Si?”

Simon glanced at it and shifted his feet uncomfortably, Raj nearly smirked that would be the misplaced sense of guilt. He shook his head.

“You have to watch it then!” Alex exclaimed. She met Raj’s eye briefly and grinned. Raj was suddenly desperately happy she had inherited Spike’s uncanny ability to read people and situations.

On screen Trinity was running through the urban landscape being pursued by agents.

Simon hesitated.

“It’s a good place to come in.” Alex assured him. “Drop your stuff and sit. You’re going to be around a bit, I think, with the triplets. You might as well get comfortable. Welcome to No. 9.”

“Thank you.” He said. “I really appreciate it."

He sat stiffly on the couch, on the edge, trying to be as unobtrusive as he could. Raj was sprawled out on a large beanbag chair that had been Alex’s other decision in the décor.

Raj wondered for a second why his friend was being so formal, but then he realized that it was because he really didn’t know the Pratts. Despite being the main topic of conversation between the two friends, Simon just didn’t actually know any of them.

Alex, however, handed the Doritos over to Raj who offered the bag to Simon. Simon ate them hungrily.

They sat in companionable silence as Trinity raced through the damp alleyways and then turned to face her pursuers.

“Oh! This is so boss.” Alex said. “I love this shot. Carrie Anne Moss is so cool. I wish she stayed with action movies. She does this one this kick,” she shook her head in awed appreciation. “It’s a scorpion kick, it took me weeks to learn. I appreciate an actor who tries to learn the moves, so those of us who actually fight don’t want to actually punch them in the face.”

Trading sharp, practiced blows, the leather clad hacker fought the agents back. Suddenly, the scene froze with Trinity in midair about to deliver a devastating blow.

“That kick took you weeks?” Raj asked.

"No, that kick took a couple of days, the Scorpion Kick--which you sort of pitch forward and kick your opponent in the face." She stood and demonstrated. "This kick, this kick took weeks. I was five."

“Like that’s supposed to excuse you? Five-year-olds are crazy little elastic things.” He said with a chuckle. “Slayers should be even more so.”

Alex shoved him good naturedly, but still firmly, as if she was reminding him that she could kill him with all the energy in her pinky finger. He slid across the floor and crashed into Simon who helped right him with a half grin.

“Couldn’t get the balance right until I was taller.” She said.

“Not much—”

“Taller.” She finished for Raj. She grabbed her Doritos back. “That’s just lazy. You’re playing with the big boys now, Prasad.”

“Yeah, Big boys—” Raj said fondly, he was about to make a comment about how even Spike wasn’t the tallest creature at No. 9, when something horrible occurred to him. “Oh God, at some point I’m going to have to babysit one of your little siblings aren’t I?”

Alex who, it seemed, already figured this was going to happen didn’t look away from the screen.

“Well, that depends on whether you would be able to catch them.”

Raj suddenly felt the weight of what any toddler aged offpring of a vampire and a slayer would be like.

“Bugger it all. Little versions of you? And three of them? Not a one of them knowing their own strength? Buffy wouldn’t be that cruel.”

“She may not have a choice.” Alex shot back easily.

“They would ransack the place!”

Alex thought for a moment.

“I don’t know, I was a weird studious little kid.” She said. “ I think maybe because I was born a slayer and everyone encouraged me to be crazy and destructive, I kinda went the other way. I hid a lot in nooks and crannies, read a bunch.”

“Really?” Raj asked hopefully.

“No!” Alex snapped. “I was a hyperactive, out-going, precocious, little peice-of-shit. I broke everything! Like all the things! I spilled anything i could get my hands on and swung from ceiling fans, I had sand on me all the time, I was the Tazmanian Devil in pink bows.”

It was very clear then what the triplets would be like when they grew up. It would be pandemonium. There would be crayons on the walls and sprinting through the halls and peeing on the runners. And hyperactive superchildren and him completely out of his depth.

Shit.

“So enjoy that.” Alex said gleefully.

“They’re your siblings.”

“When we eventually have to save the world from some sort of impending doom, who do you think is going to make sure that the kids are alright?” She popped a chip in her mouth. “I might be needed at the front. What are you going to contribute there, Alice? Your girlish shreiking, while effectual in some situations, is not exactly the omnibus defense we could use in the arsenal."

The color that Raj turned must have been pretty alarming because Alex quickly relented.

“Spike’s probably going to be a pretty involved dad. In a half a decade or so he would probably cultivate quite the following as a Dad-Blogger.”

Raj arched an eyebrow. He knew what a blog was. He could infer what a “blogger” was, but he wasn’t sure how that context would make any sense.

“A blogger? That’s a job that someone can do?”

Alex arched a questioning eyebrow and then grimaced.

“Whoops.”

They went back to watching the movie. The perspective had switched to Neo and his depressing little cubicle job. Raj snuck a peak over at Simon who was looking at him like he was insane. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the movie. For a little while they all just watched.

“Say what you want about his acting,” Alex said shaking her head. “But Keanu will always be my Neo.”

“Spoilers!” Raj said more sharply now.

“Spoilers?” Simon questioned. It was the first time he had spoken up since he sat down. He was still sitting very stiffly at the edge of his seat, clearly trying not to take up more space than he needed to.

Raj wished he could tell Simon to relax, but he knew it would be a fool’s errand. Simon had a very strong sense of what was proper and what wasn’t and in his mind he was somewhat responsible for everything that was happening to them.

Alex turned her attention to him and Simon shied away from it seeming to trying look even more unostrusive.

“What was that?” The damphyr asked.

“Spoilers. You keep saying that.” He said. “What do you mean?”

Before Alex could reply, Raj interjected.

“You fuckers pulled Lex out of another dimension where it’s already 2018.” Raj explained to him, smirking at Simon’s astonished face. “There was another Neo?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Alex said refocusing her attention on the movie. She looked embarrassed.

Simon arched an eyebrow at him.

“Well, what did you think she was doing here? Half-vampire half-slayer? You thought she was born to some other vampire and slayer?”

Simon grimaced. “I didn’t really think—fuck, I’m sorry.”

Alex smiled kindly.

“Hey, now, don’t freak.” She said offering him the bag of crisps. “I did my brooding, and bargaining and all that. Worked through my feelings, got the t-shirt. So hey, I’m all shiny and new.”

Raj grabbed the crisps and shoved a fistful in his mouth.

“And we’re getting a crash course in twenty-first century pop culture.”

Alex shrugged and didn’t take her eyes of the TV.

“Not too much to study.” She said. “Khaleesi means Queen, Flammingo-ing, Something about potatoes on the internet I never really got.”

Simon stared at her.

“Khaleesi means wife of a khal." He said simply, ignoring his friend's puzzled stare. "That’s a thing in the future?” He asked, then it seemed to dawn on him the most important part of that sentence. “They took you from the future?”

“Well, they took me from a future.” She said emphasizing the article. “but maybe not the future.”

She said this casually, as if she often though about temporal semantics, which come to think about it, she probably did.

“You know what Khaleesi means?” Raj demanded, but Simon didn’t answer him.

He was studying Alex closely. He looked like he was about to ask her more, but then he seemed to remember himself, and he relaxed back on his heels.

“Right.” Was all he said.

Raj scrambled for something to say, of course there was a lull in the action on screen so the silence felt oddly tense, like it was meant to be filled. He was about to silently beg Alex to say something, anything when Simon’s voice cut through his reverie.

“Have you been tempted to make some extra money down at the race track, then?” he asked conversationally.

Alex looked impressed. Raj wasn’t surprised, Alex liked people who could carry on a conversation. She and Spike had that talking knack, the ability to have a conversation with anyone, but she always looked relieved when there was a bit of a parry.

“Alas, I have left my sports almanac flapping uselessly in my temporal wake.” She said. “but Spike and I did make a fair bit on the Superbowl.”

Raj’s head whipped around, this was news to him. He had been suggesting they make bets on things since the second they knew Alex was from the future.

“You did not!” he exclaimed. “You told me you wouldn’t do that because of the butterfly effect Or some such nonsense! How the hell did you bet on the superbowl?”

Alex’s smile was evil.

“Spike is a resourceful creature and likes a good gamble.”

“It’s not a gamble if you know you’re going to win.” Raj grumbled.

“How do we know my coming squished a bug that was supposed to eat a firefly so it didn’t light up its butt and distract someone who didn’t call someone else, who broke up with them keeping them from having dinner with the old friend of quarterback who was worried and didn’t have time to send a good luck text and that was the tipping point that made the Ravens loose?” Alex asked. “And besides, Spike loves a get rich quick scheme.”

“Spike needs a get rich quick scheme?” Raj said incredulously.

“He’s gotta—” Alex lowered her voice to do a fairly accurate Spike impression. “Keep the slayer in baubles and Blahniks.” She shrugged. “And Buffy and I are the same shoe size so: win.”

Raj and Simon chuckled at that. They went back to watching the movie.

“God, this shot is so fucking cool!” Raj declared as Morpheus tempted Neo with a choice of pills. With each the red and blue perfectly framed in his glasses. “We need to wear more patent leather.”

“Absolutely not.” Said Alex in concert with Simon’s: “Fuck yes! I told you there’d be a reason to go to Leather Sluts!”

Both Raj and Alex stared at him incredulously. Simon’s bashful demeanor didn’t change. He smiled shyly and looked down at his shoes.

Alex cracked up first and then offered Simon the packet of Doritos.

“I guess we can keep him.”

Simon caught Raj’s eye and winked, the move was so quick and subtle it was almost imperceptible. Raj shook his head and turned his attention back to the movie.



****



Hard as it was to get out of bed, Buffy managed somehow. She could baely keep herself up, though. Her knees had gone all nobbley and quivering—but she wasn’t about to let the smirking vampire know that. She pulled on a pair of pyjama pants and one of the billion black t-shirts Spike kept in his armoire.

God, what a waste of fancy antique furniture.

It had started to rain hard outside, the sound of it lashed against the window panes and every couple of minutes thunder would rumble in the distance. God, it would be so easy to curl up in bed with her vampire and sleep forever.

“Mmm,” Spike flopped back onto the bed. “Slayer, you shouldn’t be able stand on your feet much less be padding about. Not after what I just did to you."

She couldn’t let him know how right he was or else he’d be truly insufferable.

"Brag. much?"

Spike's eyes twinkled, but Buffy side-stepped his lunge knowing that if he touched her right now they would spend another couple of hours rectifying the being-able-to-walk situation.

Spike pushed himself up, somehow managing to look sexy and swashbuckling on the ground.

"Next time then, it's a promise, sweetheart."

Buffy suppresed a shudder.

“C’mon There’s got to be some Kung Pao goodness and a dumpling or two left!”

Spike chuckled darkly. He was naked, stretched out and looking at her through his ample lashes. When he was like this Buffy had to concentrate to stay on her feet.

"Don't bother, pet," he tapped his nose and winked cheekily. "Can smell it, remember?"

Buffy's blush quickly turned into general irritation. Spike chuckled in response.

"With the Minion in the house, the kung pao's a bit of a stretch.”

“Puh-lease. If she wasn’t eavesdropping and reporting back to Devraj; I’ll eat my hat.”

Spike smirked, he darted out suddenly to pull her into bed. And he was kissing her and the world melted away.

God, Could Spike kiss.

His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips his blunt teeth nibbling lightly at her bottom lip. And she very quickly felt her resolve to grab something to eat start to crumble. He teased her mouth open, slipping inside, and buried his hands in her hair. He tasted like smoke and whiskey and power. She was kissing him back just as earnestly.

“’ve done a fair bit more since we were fightin’ there, Pet.” He said pulling away, he bit his lip and wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

Buffy was flushed just thinking about it. God, this felt so good. It was unlike her to just give in to wild abandon like that, but Spike tended to bring that out in her, whether they were fighting or fucking. She pushed herself up, and tried to slow her heartbeat. Spike remained sprawled out, infuriatingly rubbing his hand across his belly, just above the sexy indents that drew her eye lower.

She shook her head to shake away the cobwebs.

“What was that place?” She asked trying to distract herself. She pushed back and slid out of his arms. “Ah, Ah, no cheating, mister. Eating for four remember?”

Spike thought for a moment, and then sucked on his teeth. Not one of her favorite habits, God, he could be so gross sometimes, and it was pissing her off that what used to be gross now made her tremble girlishly. She forced herself to step back and follow her rumbling belly.

“Those'd be the servant's quarters, pet.” He said. "Prob'ly a maid's room."

“Quarters? They lived here in this house?”

Spike nodded and Buffy felt a sudden pang. He had known it was a maid's room. They lived here, in this house and he was obviously some sort of lord. No one lived in a house like this who wasn't some sort of lord.

“How rich were you?” She demanded trying to distract herself from the thought of some maid looking at Spike's razor sharp cheek bones and shirking her duties. She suddenly hated all maids, the insuffrable temptresses they were. And they lived here! They had access to Spike all the time.

Crap, was she seriously having weird retrograde jealousy? What was wrong with her?

“Let's just say the sprog'll have nothing to worry about college-wise.”

Buffy's eyes widened. "You still have money?"

Spike didn't reply he just smirked.

“You made us pay you for information!” she accused.

The insufferable pile of soon-to-be-dust shrugged.

"Couldn't just do it out of the evilness of my heart. Could have you lot thinking I'd gone completely soft."

Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but what's $200 bucks when you had live in help?"

"You think I went a century without an investment portfolio?"

"Yes." She replied without hesitation. "Aren't you all about taking what you want and all that crazy vampire psycho jazz?"

Spike churcked.

“Well, pet, right you are. This is pretty much it.” He said indicating the house. He was leaning back on his elbows idly stroking her ends of her hair in a way that was incredibly distracting. Annoyance seemed to work better han anything else to allow her to wiggle out of his stare. "Bit on the side from some treasure I've found, the odd poker winnings, an old pile that's on a long lease to a school."

She stared at him uncomprehending.

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "What did you think we did with all this room, love?"

"How many people lived here?”

“There were nine of them. Mum and I.”

“What?”

“You’ve met Bromley. We had a few parlor maids, a valet, lady’s maid, cook. Now exactly what were you expecting?” Spike said with a shrug.

"Honestly?" Buffy said. "I don't know figured you grew up as like a Chimney Sweep or something."

"Dickens, eh?" Spike said tilting his head to the side, "Never figured you for a reader of the classics."

"If by classics you mean movies." Buffy said with a shake of her head. "I can sing the entire hook to Sweet Yellow Roses."

The smile on his face was genunine. Buffy was struck by how rarely Spike smiled like that. Like there was nothing on his mind but books and amusing Buffy awkwardness.

"Oh, do tell me this is something you do when you're drunk, sweetling."

"Not on your life."

Spike chuckled.

“Right. Unlife. Whatever." Buffy said before she really realized it. It struck her a second later just how that sounded. She made the adjustment so quickly as if it were normal. As if it were nothing. To cover her momentary freak out, she changed the subject. "I pity the poor parlour maids if they had you to terrorize them.”

Spike’s bark of a laugh was not what she was expecting. He shook his head and curled his teeth behind his tongue.

“Right menace I was.” he said.

There was something about the way he said it that made Buffy pause. Spike was a cocky bastard, but that, felt poignant. She made a mental note to try and wheedle the story out another time. He was doing the thing he did when he accidentally let her have too much information about his past and was distracting her by running his hands up and odwn her back and making her shiver.

He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her carelessly on the forehead. The contact made Buffy tingle in all sorts of naughty ways.

“Mm, Pet, you keep that up and you won’t be gettin’ downstairs anytime soon.”

Buffy smacked him good-naturedly and slipped out the door before he could grab her and tempt her otherwise. A few seconds later he appeared wearing the clothes he had been wearing earlier.

It felt so natural to just wait for him, she knew he was coming, she didn't know how she knew. She let him precede her down the stairs where Alex, Raj, and Simon made an interesting tablaeu on the couch. They were watching the Matrix.

“Bloody brilliant film.” Spike pronounced, he pressed her forward from the base of her spine. “Sit, love, I’ll go get us some nosh.”

Buffy shivered a little. It was so strange to her to feel those little butterflies whenever Spike brushed her skin. And then there was the sudden dotiness. Where had that come from? Buffy shook the thoughts from her head. She could feel a comparison coming on, to an Angel shaped sore spot and once she did that, there would be no going back, it would open a can of worms that couldn't be un opened.

Thankfully there ws a very convenient action sequence involving several gunshots that caught her attention.

The TV room was a good idea, Alex had convinced her to buy this long couch with a chaise lounge attached to the end. At the store Buffy had thought the couch was too massive, but the Chaise had become her favorite place to sit.

“This was a good investment.” She said sinking back into the cushions squishing up to Alex who shoved her aside.

“Didn’t I tell you this would be better than that thing you wanted to get that had the push pins in it?” Alex demanded. “This is the only way to watch movies.”

There was a sudden movement from the other side of the couch as Simon shifted.

“Simon, you’re still here!” Buffy glanced over, surprised.

“I—I’m sorry I can head out.”

But Buffy waived him away.

“Don’t. Sit. Make yourself comfortable.” She said, “This thing can seat a football team. The pushpin one was smaller but it was a lot prettier. I just liked to look at it. All fancy and velvet.”

“Cozy over comfy any day.” Alex insisted.

“But velvet!"

"If you wanted it so much why didn't you just get it and put it somewhere slse?" Alex asked.

"it felt silly buying two couches. " The slayer said with a shrug and turned her attention back to the TV screen. She watched for a few seconds to get oriented. “Did I miss the part with the super awesome kick? The one Trinity does? That’s in the beginning right?”

“Yep.” Raj said.

“Fooey. All anyone talks about is Neo’s phantom limbo and the gunshot time thingy. Whatever. That lean back is like all core strength. I can do that.”

Simon and Raj traded looks while Alex sent them a triumphant grin.

“See? I appreciate a good fight coordinator.” She said. “I mean in my world those are a dime a freaking dozen.”

“Yeah? Have action movies gotten better? Because I am all for showing more than three punches and explosions.”

Alex shrugged. “Now we have the opposite problem of fight scenes for fight masters,”

“I’d like to see what that looks like.”

“Insurance salesman’s wet dream.” Alex said turning her attention back to the screen. “We’ve had to start inventing cities. I’ve seen San Francisco destroyed like eight times.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Spike bounded up the stairs. He handed Alex a mug, handed Buffy a bowl full of dumplings then settled himself onto the broad couch next to her. In the Matrix, children were bending spoons with their mind.

“Did I miss the part where the sexy leather chit kicks the agent over her head?” He asked taking a sip from one of the large coffee mugs. “I fucking love that move.” He turned to Buffy and asked curiously. “Can you do that?”

Buffy’s cocky triumphant grin was enough to make the vampire’s raise his eyebrows in interest and everyone else to keep like maybe they shouldn’t be in the room.

“Gross.” Alex pronouced.

“Isn’t it your bedtime or something, nibblet?”

Alex didn’t even look away from the telly.

“It’s eight-thirty.” She said.

“I can still ground you.”

“Don’t make me laugh.”

"You watch your mouth--"

"Or you'll what? migrane at me?"

“You did just get suspended today, missy.” Spike shot back without even thinking.

Buffy watched Simon’s reaction, it was nice to see the wonderment on someone else’s face. Spike got on with Alexis like gangbusters and their banter was lightning quick. Simon looked overwhelmed, though he hid it well. It he seemed to be the more meditative type and said nothing.

They had all settled into a companionable silence when, out of nowhere there was a sudden long trill. They had never heard it before and then twice in one day.

Everyone froze.

“The doorbell?” Simon reminded them.

“Who could it be?” Buffy asked realizing the cliché in her words and feeling a bit ridiculous for being the one who said it.

Both Spike and Alex looked like they were concentrating, Spike eyes narrowed.

“Can’t you smell them whoever they are?” Raj asked.

Spike shook his head.

“Not in this rain.”

One by one the Pratts looked from one to the other trying to decide who should be the person who answers the door. Finally, Alex rolled her eyes.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” She said. “We know it’s going to be me. It has to be. I’m the only one that comes in and out regularly. You two are just trying to find a way for it not to be. Put down the stake, stop coming up with the crazy misguided plan brought about by a sense of protectorship. I am trained, remember? because I am a slayer. So maybe ease up on the over protective hovering?”

Spike and Buffy traded looks.

“Don’t look at me, you rattle off like that all the time.” She said to Spike.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Is it that annoying when I do it?”

“Yes.” Raj and Buffy said seriously.

Alex rolled her eyes and turned to go answer the door, Buffy and Spike scrambled to provide her back up. She peeked through the seeing hole.

“Guys, don’t freak! If it was some sort of threat do you really think they would ring the door bell?”

Her reasoning was sound but they didn’t move a muscle, staying just out of the line of sight of door for maximum element of surprise.

“Who is it, nib?”

Alex didn’t answer she threw open the door. Outside in the pouring rain stood a tall, skinny girl dressed poorly for the Late February damp; Wesley Wyndham-Pryce; and a baby.


*****

Author's note: There! Much quicker! I have most of the next chapter done as well!
Chapter 30 - A Moment of Perfect Happiness by Petra
Chapter Thirty – A Moment of Pure Happiness

He had a little voice in his head, it was small and posh and sounded very like Roger Wyndham-Pryce.

It was telling him he had managed to fuck this up. No. Roger would never use that word. Roger felt that curse words were the product of a lazy mind. He was inadequate yet again, mediocre. He should have done something more—he racked his brains. He was missing something, something obvious that had been there all along. Perhaps they could have spared Darla for what Wes was sure she was about to do.

When Wesley started to hear that voice, he usually rang Ravi and spent too much money catching up. He felt a pang of sadness that his friend was gone. It hit him then that he had never properly grieved for Ravi, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it as Darla plunged a stake through her heart and the sound of a newborn’s wail filled the alley.

They all stood in the alley steadily getting pelted by the rain watching as Angel crouch and wrap the child in his leather trench coat. They surged forward but Cordelia held out an arm, keeping the rest of the Angel Investigations team back to let Angel have this moment alone to hold his prophesized son.

The child was a miracle. He squirmed in his father’s arms and let out a wail that rivaled the sirens that were blaring in the distance.

Angel looked back up at Cordelia with tears in his eyes, and she returned that look of love they didn’t think anyone noticed. That look spoke of whispered promises and the million little things that they would do; could do for each other, for this child. It was the look of family.

Wes felt himself get swept up in the moment. So much had happened in the last three days that it was surreal to even just see the child.

Somewhere at the back of his head, Wes heard alarm bells. A prophesized child of a vampire, he should have reported this to No. 9.

Wes dismissed it, Spike would understand. With everything that was happening here, he might be a bit frustrated his own offspring was not as unique as they thought it would be, but he would get why Wes couldn’t fill them in right away. He would get to it later.

Then the vampire looked back down at his son. The look on his face was difficult to describe, partly awe and partly terror, elation but also joy. Wes would have thought the sustained high-pitched wail should be grating to his vampiric ears but it wasn’t, or it didn’t seem to be. The cries were signs life, Wes supposed wondering how he was able to make his mind think like that. When they were all staring at this miracle, Angel’s child was breathing and screaming and alive. And the crying was proof.

Angel turned to them, turning to lock eyes with Wesley and show off his son, When he stiffened. Wes’s unease, the feelings he ignored at the onset of Darla’s sacrifice resurfaced and solidified.

They all stood around, letting Angel have these first few precious moments with his son, like idiots.

It hit him like a runaway freight train.

Wesley felt his insides go cold. He felt his whole consciousness concentrate into a single point, dim around the edges and his vision pulled back like a Kubrik Vertigo shot, the sickly revelation of it scrawled through him, making him sweat despite the cold.

Bloody buggering motherfucking bollocks.

The last time he had laser focused like this was when he was just about to die.

He couldn’t believe that he could have forgotten. It was the one singular detail that brought them all together. It apparently had not occurred to anyone else.

He shoved Cordelia aside and tore toward Angel reaching him just as he began to wobble. Once he was at his friend’s side he saw how forgone Angel was, his eyes were glazed over, he looked like it was taking all he had to fight back his demon visage.

Wesley grabbed him by the arms.

“Angel!” He exclaimed.

Angel looked at Wesley his eyes glowed.

“His name is Connor.”

He collapsed, leaving Wesley holding the squalling infant.

A hundred miles away Cordelia was yelling. She had probably been yelling since Wes had started running, demanding to know what his damage was, but her voice was suddenly present like the volume had been switched on.

He turned desperately to see if anyone else had figured it out. Everyone looked confused or angry, except Fred. She looked terrified.

Cordy marched up to him about to demand what the hell he was playing at, but then she realized it. He recognized the horrible moment of realization slide across her face, saw it mirror his own.

At that moment nothing was registering to Wesley other than the squalling infant in his arms and the thought that he needed to get the child to a safe place.

And there was only one safe place he could think of.


*****

No. 9. The cabbie pulled over and Wes paid him exorbitantly, handing him a sheaf of notes without paying attention to how much he was paying.

Wesley felt like someone had pulled him from both ends and made him expel everything inside him that made him him. He felt scrubbed clean and adrenalin wasted, like little ants were crawling around behind his eyeballs. He hadn’t felt like this since that train in Vienna and that night in Prague months ago.

Fred smiled encouragingly as he rang the doorbell to the house.

The door opened to display an odd tableau of Alex, Spike, Buffy, Raj and a Chinese fellow that Wes didn’t recognize. He didn’t know he was going to do it until he laid eyes on her, but the second he saw Buffy, he crossed the room and pulled her in for a very un-English hug.

“I’ve underestimated you all this time.” He said. “I’m so incredibly sorry."

He could feel her stiffen. He knew she had no idea where this sudden burst of affection was coming from; truthfully he wasn’t sure where it was coming from either. But the door opened and he saw Buffy, the slayer who had faced Angelus at sixteen. She had been only a little older than Alex when she had faced him and taken him down. And he had tortured her for weeks before striking. He couldn't imagine dealing with ANgelus himself when he was 16.

Wes had never properly appreciated just what the slayer had faced as a teenager, he had underestimated the impact of his friend’s face sneering at him in hatred.

“Hi, Wes.” She said awkwardly as she reached her hands around to hug Wesley back.

“Oxford?”

Wesley released Buffy and pulled Spike into an equally fierce hug. To his surprise the blond vampire returned the hug instantly, like this was not the first time they had ever hugged.

“Why on earth are dressed like a dentist on holiday?”

Spike released him and scowled.

“What’s goin’ on, Oxford?” he demanded, brushing at the front of his cashmere sweater, clearly uncomfortable in his new get up. “Not that we’re not happy to see you and all.”

Wes turned to Fred who was looking at him wide-eyed. She carefully stepped forward presenting the baby. Neither of them wanted to move Connor too much. The baby was fussy as hell and very little seemed to sooth him. Neither of them wanted to wake him.

“This is Connor.” The watcher said. “He’s Angel’s son." He waited a beat to let that information land, before dropping the next bomb. "With Darla.”

It took a second for the news to be processed. Buffy and Spike reacted instantly both of them seemed to have come to the right conclusion as to why Angel's son was now in England. But Raj and the Asian fellow both looked at Alex for an explanation. She looked flabbergasted. Wes reckoned that this hadn’t happened in her reality.

“No. No. No. No. Wes, tell me—”

“Bloody hell.”

“Fuck.”

“What?” Raj interjected. “What’s going on?”

“Angel’s soul. Angel’s soul comes with a loophole.” Buffy said in a small voice. “A moment of perfect happiness. And…”

She trailed off, Raj paled a little, and the Asian man was looking around still obviously unclear on the significance of what was going on around him. The quiet after Buffy’s realization stretched on. Until finally,

“Hi, I’m Fred.” Fred suddenly said quietly so as not to startle the tiny child she was carrying. “I’ve never been to England before. You have a lovely home.”


****


Spike set a tumbler liberally filled with amber liquid in front of Wesley. He placed one in front of Fred as well. She smiled her thanks and took the glass in both hands. They had been ushered into the living room around the large couch, Raj draped Wes and Fred with blankets. Simon set the infant Connor up in a drawer from a credenza lined with blankets and Angel’s duster. He fussed every time someone tried to remove it.

Wes took a sip from his whisky. He was pleased that the child had retained a memory of his father somehow. He tamped down on that voice that threatened to whisper again. If he had thought about it, if they had only prepared for it to happen maybe it could have been prevented.

The adrenalin was starting to ebb now he had made it to the safe haven. He felt like everything he had thought about in the last twenty-four hours had been to get he, and Fred and Connor here, and now they could regroup and figure out what to do next. Of course, now that he could actually think about what was going on, he realized that he had, essentially presented two people who already had enough to deal with, yet another apocalypse.

Perhaps he should have taken care of it on his own. Always the side kick, never the bride.

Alex entered the room second later with bowls full of steaming Macaroni and Cheese.

“Sorry. S’not much, but it’s all I know how to make.” She said sheepishly.

“It looks delicious.” Fred said graciously, Wes noticed she had drank half the liquor in the tumbler. She tucked into her share of the mac and cheese with alarming gusto.

They had eaten on the plane, mechanically and absently, more as something to do rather than hunger. Or at least he had, Fred he imagined ate in small bird-like bits. Apparently he was wrong on that count. Wes looked down at his own bow of an angry orange looking concoction and realized he was ravenous.

“So Angelus is back and terrorizing California.”

“I don’t know about California.” Wes said. “he’s gone after Cordelia, but she’s fled to Sunnydale.”

“To find Willow.” Buffy concluded.

Wes noticed Spike fidget at the mention of the red-headed witch. Wes suddenly realized he had never heard Spike mention any of Buffy’s school friends in the entire time he was with them. He realized belatedly that perhaps that had been by design.

Idiot. He had essentially told the his friend's girlfriend that her ex-boyfriend had gone homicidal again. He had forgotten that Buffy considered Angelus to be a bit of her personal monster.

What a right mess this was.

Buffy sat down at the table looking simultaneously 16-years-old and a hundred and two, She kept staring at the newborn and looking down at her own abdomen. After a few moments of silence, Spike rose and started to pace. Simon was examining Connor in his drawer; and Alex and Raj were looking between Spike and Buffy and having a strange non-verbal conversation.

Wes worried suddenly that maybe he made a terrible mistake.

“I, I’m sorry It was the safest place I could think to keep the child.”

Spike stopped mid-stride and shook his head.

“Bollocks, Oxford, of course you should have come here. S’ one place Peaches won’t think to look. And the boy’s family, after all, int’he?”

The baby fussed and shifted, Both Wes and Fred tensing at the sight of it. Buffy stood to pick him up, Wes and Fred both reacted, but were too late. Connor woke and let out a huge yowl.

Buffy looked like she wanted very much to put him back down, but was too scared to move. She looked at Fred beseechingly.

“Don’t worry.” Fred said standing to smile encouragingly at Buffy. I couldn’t calm him either. He slept the whole way on the plane just fine though. Maybe he’s hungry?”

The baby was on a full wail, Wes fumbled to grab one of the three bottles they had filled with formula.

Simon, however reached for the child.

“May I?” He asked a very relieved Buffy. She surrendered the child so quickly she may as well have passed him like a rugby ball.

Spike’s eyes flew from Buffy to the dark-haired man. Wes sensed some tension there, he wondered what had transpired earlier in the day.

“Nother one of your experiments, Doc?”

Ah, a Genesis problem. He didn't think the vampire would be one to harbour grudges. The boy’s smile was tentative. He crossed the room and gently positioned the child in Spike’s arms.

“Something like that.” He said levelly. Wes was impressed Spike could be intimidating if he wanted to be.

To the surprise of everyone in the room, once he was plopped in the vampire’s arms, Connor quieted, shifted, and went to sleep.

At the vampire’s questioning eyebrow, Simon shrugged.

“Was he crying on the plane?” The boy asked.

“No come to think of it.”

“Right, then,” Simon said, he smiled a little triumphantly, seemingly pleased to have figured somehting out. Wesley figured this must be the inside man. “His mother was a vampire, his father was a vampire, he probably finds most heartbeats irritating because he’s used to hearing only his own. What happened to the mother?”

That seemed to jog Buffy out of her daze.

“Wait--" She said. "Darla’s dead, Angel killed her years ago!”

Wes sighed.

“It’s rather a long story.” he said drinking deeply from his tumbler of whisky and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“All the more important to start now.” Buffy said. There was an underlying of steel in her tone, and when he looked at her, she had crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side determinedly.

Wes was familiar with the Scoobie “resolve face” concept. He took a deep breath and started.

“Darla was brought back by Wolfram and Hart last year and it appears She and Angel re-kindled their relationship.” He paused awkwardly to gauge her reaction but when she impatiently noded for him to continue he forged on. “For er, an evening. She arrived three days ago with the er—news.” He finished his drink, Spike topped it off, unasked. Wesley had tremendous affection for him. “Darla’s dead once more, sacrificed herself to save Connor.”

“Sacrificed?” Buffy said. She pressed her hand to her abdomen.

Spike was instantly alert, in a smooth movement, he re-deposited Connor in his drawer. And stood behind Buffy's chair.

“She couldn’t deliver, something in her vampiric nature, we're not entirely sure.” Wes said. "so she staked herself."

“Oxford—the baby is human right?” Spike asked tentatively, he had pulled the drawer to the edge of the table, near him and Buffy.

“I think that can be said definitively.” Simon piped up. “He had all the reflexes I know about, his heartbeat is good and he seems to be thriving. Did you weigh him yesterday?”

He should have thought of that. Of course! Baby weight was one of the best ways to see if a baby was healthy. He was just about to stammer something, embarrassedly, but Fred spoke up.

“Sorta.” She said. “He’s about eight and a half pounds more or less. I weighted him on a regular scale. Not the most precise way, I know.”

“No, that’s perfect.” Simon said making a note on a pad. “Weighed yourself without him and they weighed yourself holding him?”

Fred nodded. Wes was floored, he hadn’t even thought of that.

“Right, we should probably have a more comprehensive check up.” He shared a meaningful look with Raj.

Wesley noticed the exchange. Spike had called the boy “Doc” which mean he must be some sort of physician.

“You are the one who’s been helping us aren’t you?” he concluded. “Raj’s friend, Simon?”

Simon nodded. “Yes. Just checking in on Buffy’s babies.”

“Babies?” Wes repeated. “Plural?”

“Yes, 30 fingers, 30 toes, and one massive slayer.” Buffy said. “I’m really hoping they take after me and not Mister-ginormous-head over here.”

Spike looked affronted.

“The only big head I have, pet is figurative.” He shot back. “That and my c—”

“Shut up, Spike.” Buffy interjected quickly.

Wes hesitated for a second, but he was just too drained to try and think of the implications so instead he just went with his gut. This was a happy thing, and they were all over-thinking it. He felt himself truly relax for the first time since he saw the soul leave Angel’s eyes. He found himself smiling,

“Congratulations, Buffy.”

She looked at him like he was crazy for a moment and then burst into tears. Spike had her in an instant, his arms around her shoulders murmuring comfort into her hair. Buffy melted into him instantly.

Wes, flabbergasted, looked at Alex and Raj who both shrugged.

After a few moments of tense sobbing Buffy broke away from Spike.

“I’m sorry, I’ll—I’m sorry. I need to go upstairs.” And she fled the room.

Spike watcher her go, but stayed put. He sighed and took a seat, ignoring everyone's bewildered looks.

“Are you going to go after her?” Wesley prompted after a few seconds.

The vampire's face was a well composed mask of nonchalance that everyone saw through, though it didn't look like he was trying too hard to convince anyone.

“Needs to sort out this one on her own, I think.” He said. “been a long and eventful day, Oxford. Not everything’s about you.”

He poured himself another generous helping of whiskey.

Wesley followed his look toward a suddenly embarassed Alexis and a concerned Raj, and nodded realizing he had interrupted some sort of domestic storm.

“I can see that.” He said.

“So it’s just the two of you, then?” Asked Raj in a blatant attempt to change the subject. “Everyone else is in California?”

Wes shook his head. “Fred, Myself and er, Gwen Raiden.”


*****


“English!” Gunn demanded. “What the hell going on?”

“Angel was holding his son.” Wesley supplied slowly, trying not to be frustrated he had to spell it out to everyone. “A complete bloody impossibility just three days ago.”

“He’s lost his soul!” Fred filled them in. Wes grinned at her thankfully. He was sure she had put it together earlier.

Gunn swore under his breath. On the ground a few yards away, they could hear a long sustained groan. Cordelia whirled around, suddenly all business. She was the only one who had ever witnessed Angelus in full and she had the most experience fighting him.

Next to Buffy anyway.

“We don’t have much time.” Cordy said severely. “I’m not going to lie, this is like, really bad. Like hell is up there,” She held her hand over her head. She lowered it. “and here is a lower place where we think Xander Harris’s plans are a good idea, and even lower is where we are.” She bit her lip and tried to look brave. There was little worse in the world that Cordy trying to look brave. “We have officially crossed over into the world of bad. We need to get to Sunnydale. Pronto. We need to talk to Willow Rosenberg.”

There was something that cut through the fog, Wes had been making a hundred lists constantly changing the first thing that he should do, the first person they needed to contact. He had the last list to about five and the denizens of Sunnydale weren’t in the top three. He knew wasn’t going to Sunnydale—and neither was Connor. Sunnydale would be the first place Angelus looked for them, and if he remembered correctly, Angel still had an invite to most of the Scooby houses.

Wes knew where he needed to get the child, but he had no idea how he was going to get there.

“How much time do we have?” Gunn questioned nervously glancing over his shoulder at the heap of vampire. “Does he just get up as Angelus?”

“No one knows!” Cordelia said she looked angry. Helplessness tended to aggravate rather than despair the seer. “No one but Buffy, which is unfortunate, you know because of the whole being dead thing. ”

“I’ll go see if there’s anyone in the underground that will know about a witch.” Gunn said. He cut off Cordelia. “Ah, ah, ah, I know you have a go-to girl on this whole thing, but I figure that, whenever magic is in the works another set of hands ain’t such a bad idea.”

He turned to Wesley for approval and his friend’s deference warmed the former watcher, while simultaneous made him feel extremely uncomfortable about how he was thinking of running away with Connor.

Cordy, Gunn, and Fred were all looking at him now, like he was the boss, which he supposed was the case.

He felt even more guilty for what he said next, because although it made the most sense, it as also what he wanted the most.

“I’ll take Fred and figure out a safe place to keep Connor.” He said. “Cordy, you go Sunnydale and see if between Rupert and Willow they can find a way to re-soul him.”

Cordy raised her eyebrows.

“Got any spare Orbs of Thessulah around?” She asked only half joking.

Wesley arched an eyebrow—he was unsure what she was talking about. The name of it sounded vaguely familiar, but most obscure mystical had started bleeding together in his head, obscure until he could contextualize them.

“A what?”

Cordy waived him away—but an unexpected voice cut in.

“I got you, candy cane.” Said the Host.

They all turned around to see the demon standing there in a blue suit with a bright yellow tie. He was holding a crackly glass sphere.

“Where did you get that?” Wes asked.

“I’ve been using it as a paperweight.” The green-skinned demon admitted embarrassedly. “So should we hit Angel over the head with it or what?”

Cordelia’s eyes widened in panic, she looked around wild-eyed to be sure Angel was still where she left him, only calming when she had confirmed it. The supine form of Angelus was motionless on the wet pavement. In his time in LA, Wes had never seen Cordy this frazzled, and since she was the only one who knew what they were up against, so her worry was not a good sign.

Despite her hesitation, Gunn had approached the vampire who very suddenly shot up and grabbed him, pulled the black man against him and bit down viciously.

“Wesley, go!” Cordy hissed.

“But—”

Cordy didn’t answer. Instead, she leveled the tranq gun they had brought for Darla and fired off a shot straight at Angel—Angelus’s back. The vampire growled but fell away from Gunn.

“Go!”

Wesley grabbed Fred’s hand and tore out of the alleyway to the waiting convertible.

Once they were settled Wes tore out of the smaller street and found himself on the highway on his way to LAX.

“Well, this is goin’ to be terrifyin’” Said Fred, he realized that she was trembling, he had handed her the child without thinking and now she was cuddling him close. “There, there, little one, we’ll figure this out. Your dad will find a way back.”

Wesley didn’t have the heart to tell her that’s not how it worked. He didn’t know what he was going to tell her about Angelus, he hadn’t even figured out what he was going to tell her about where they were going, but he knew that above all things he needed to get the child to the safety of No. 9 and talk to Buffy.

Despite already being in a car hurtling down the highway toward a way out of Los Angeles, and feeling the irrepressible pull toward No. 9, he exited the highway and made for his apartment.

As soon as he exited Fred glanced around wildly.

Wes steeled himself, it would be day soon, how much could a few extra hours hurt? Especially if it could mean the answer to a very pressing question.

“Where are we goin’? Fred asked him. “are we goin’ to be meetin’ up with the others?”

“No.” Wes said grimly. “We’re going to see Gwen Raiden.”


*****

Gwen Raiden lived in a dilapidated building in the rougher side of East LA.

Wes parked the car and hesitated. His contacts had told him she could be found in a drab, 70’s-style building. This was not what he had been expecting.
Wes was suddenly very mindful of the vulnerable infant being held by spindly thin Fred, but it couldn’t be helped.

The stood outside the building, careful to remain in direct sunlight.

“So what do we do now?”

Bugger. He was drawing a blank. He had no idea what he was meant to do now, he had gotten as far as where she lived and told to show up at an address at a particular time, but was told nothing more about how to get in touch with Gwen Raiden.

He was just about to dial the number of his contact when he heard a low, purring voice from behind them.

“Well, well, well, haven’t I killed you already? Strange what makes men come back,”

“There’s just a certain allure of the danger.” Wesley said silkily, unsure of where the sudden surge of confidence was coming from, but deciding to roll with it. “And then there’s the spandex.”

He turned and raised an eyebrow. She was standing with her arms folded across her chest leaning on an exposed beam. She looked impressed.
“Well, we’ve got the bassist and the tambourine player.” She said with a half-meant sneer. “But where’s the frontman?”

That stung. Wesley fought to keep how much it stung from showing on his face.

“It’s rather a long story.” Wes said. “Shall we go somewhere where we can discuss it that’s a little more, private?”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Private, huh? Did anyone tell you my going rate?”

Wesley shifted uncomfortably. He glanced sideways at Fred. He wondered how much he could possibly disclose around her. He suddenly wasn’t sure if dragging her along was the best idea.

“I was hoping to capitalize on your er, better nature.”

That made her laugh. Wes and Fred exchanged looks. Gwen Raiden stopped abruptly.

“You are really serious. You think I owe you one for killing you, don’t you?” She said.

“Not really.” Wesley said evenly. “We’re here about Angel.”

Gwen nodded; she looked marginally more interested now. Her eyes slid over to Fred and she studied Connor with interest.

“Who’s is he, Sunny of Sunnybrooke farm?”

“Sunny? Me?” Fred stammered looking unsure and uncomfortable, she always seemed to get a little bit tongue tied around women like Gwen and Cordy. “Uhm, he’s not mine if that’s what you’re askin’”

Gwen’s eyes flicked over to Wes her smirk was palpable.

“I’ll say.” She said. “because you two weigh the same thing. So who’s is the little bundle of joy?”

“He’s Angel’s.” Wes interjected. He chanced a glance down the side walk, it was bright but he couldn’t help the niggling feeling that Angel knew where they were. “Please can we discuss this where we aren’t in danger of being disturbed?”

“Angel the dead guy?”

“To whom you owe your life.”

That made her frown. She glared at him, clearly working her head around the concept must have left a foul taste in her mouth.

“Follow me.” She said tersely. And with that she turned on her heel and preceded them into the building.

The place was dingy as hell, it smelled like stale beer and ammonia. The electropath lead them through a successive series of shabby halls and up a cramped staircase to a hallway with a keypad mounted on a wall. Gwen input the code and pushed aside the wall, revealing a palace.

Wes felt himself sigh in relief. Fred leaned over and whispered:

“Looks like she might have some of those international crime connections you were hopin’ for.”

They walk in and a very attractive female butler walked over with a carafe of orange juice. Gwen Raiden threw herself dramatically onto the couch.
“Now, so what was it about Angel that you wanted to discuss?”

Wesley shifted uncomfortable, “So you know him as a force for good, but the thing that makes him good, his soul well its—”

Gwen raised an impatient eyebrow.

“What?”

“I think the word he’s looking for is gonzo.” A voice cut in.

Wesley’s blood went cold. They had forgotten to shut the door in their surprise at their surroundings. Angel was framed in the door way grinning at them slyly. Gwen Raiden seemed disturbed, but she shook it off.

“What the fuck is going, vampire?” she demanded playfully. She stood to march over, sashaying as she went. She ignored Wesley's protests. “Why don’t you c—”

To her surprise Wesley grabbed a pant leg and pulled her back.

“No, Ms. Raiden, Stop. That isn’t Angel, you can’t invite him in.”

Angel’s smile was dark, although the glint in his eye and the sheer malevolence in his gaze made it clear this wasn’t the vampire they were accustomed to dealing with. The Leather pants helped.

Even Gwen recognized it then, the retort died in her throat.

Angel’s grin was predatory as he looked her over. “Gone, left the building and all that. Now I get to maybe have a little fun.” He stopped and shook his head. “But that can wait until I finish my business, you know what they about business and pleasure.” He didn’t wait for a reply, he turned to Wes all the smarm gone from his face. “Give me my son, Wesley.”

Wes straightened his spine. There was little Angel could do to them in here, especially when he was holding the best bit of leverage in the world.

“Absolutely not.”

Angel’s smile was reminiscent of a smirk.

“You were smart.” He said. “Smarter than I gave you credit for. I would have expected you to have sent him with Cordelia and not gone and taken him on your own.”

Wesley knew that barb was pointed and willed himself not to react. Angel seemed to be waiting for him to react as well.

“but, this, Gwen Raiden, was not what I expected. Can you trust her Wesley? Really trust her?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Gwen demanded.

“Shut up, freak.”

Her eyes widened and she launched herself at him. Angel made quick work of her, slapping her aside and ignoring the jolt of energy her touch triggered.

“Surprise!” he said with a grin. “Now you get to know what going around with me is really like.”

Gwen wiped the blood from her mouth and grabbed Angel’s face shooting him with as many volts as she can. Angel’s eyes widened and he seized up his mouth fell open as he tried to resist it, but soon he was on the floor shuddering and heaving.

“Ditto, buddy.” Gwen said angrily. She dashed behind the invisible partition. And rolled her shoulders.

Wesley had searched fruitlessly with something to fight with, the butler eventually handed him a crossbow.

Angel managed to pull himself together. He smiled ferally.

“You aren’t going to use that against me.” He spat.

“Try me.”

Angel leaned against the partition.

“Oh, I don’t have to.” He says. “Go on. Go on, Wesley. Here’s the target.” He spread his arms welcoming the bolt he knew was not going to come.

Wesley was close, so close to doing it, but in the last minute he remembered that like it or not, Angel had a destiny. His hesitation was noted.

“See you and I both know you love me too much. You think I’m too important. To the powers that be.” Angel tutts and shakes his head. “Once a watcher, always a watcher.”

He meant it to be derogatory, he meant it as an attack on Wesley and his insecurities, but mentioning his past only seemed to steel Wes’s resolve.
Gwen Raiden, it seemed, was not to be ignored. She reached over with her gloved hands.

“Gimme the crossbow. I’ll do it.”

“No.”

The smile disappeared from Angelus’s face, it was replaced with grave seriousness and just a hint of manic glee.

“I’m getting bored.” He said airly. “Give me back my son, Wesley, or I will go out and I will kill a person an hour until you give me back my son." He grinned, an expression Wesley was used to. This time it sent a chill down his spine. "And it will all be your fault because you could have killed me just now and you pussied out like the coward that you are and always will be.”

It would have been so easy, so easy to give in, to let himself feel like the failure he was, but he was spurned on by the knowledge that that was exactly what Angelus wanted. He straightened his spine.

“You will not.” He said as firmly as he could. He couldn't do anything about the pounding in his chest, but he did have some leverage. “Because if you do that, I will kill your son.”

Angelus threw his head back and laughed.

Wes had thought people had only ever done that in the movies. He imagine telling Spike about this and almost heard the blond vampire chuckle in his head. Bloody drama queen. That made him feel a smidgeon better.

“An innocent child?” Angelus asked between bursts of mirth. “I’ll call that bluff. Hand him over, Wes, or else I will tell selling-it-to-the-highest-bidder here just who is after him and she’ll hand him over. ”

Next to Wes, Gwen Raiden growled.

“Alright, I don’t like it.” She spat at Angelus.

Wes’s face didn’t budge, he held out a hand and Gwen stilled.

“We’re going now.” He said calmly. He summoned as much mettle as he could. “and if I hear that you have gone on a killing spree I will kill your offspring. I’m half convinced that he’ll bring about the apocalypse so perhaps karma remain in my favor.”

Angelus stopped laughing.

“Leaving?” he mocked. “How do you think that you are—”

Wesley let the bolt fly and his lips twisted into an uncharacteristic smirk. Angelus looked down at his chest surprised to see the feathered tail of a tranq buried in it.

Wesley flipped open his phone.

“I have Angelus at the corner of Clement and Martin Luther King.” He said to a baffled Cordelia. “I shot him with a tranq. Fred and I are heading for a safe house.”

“Where are we goin’?” Asked Fred looking at Wesley oddly.

Wesley turned to Gwen Raiden.

“By any chance do you have access to a jet?” he asked. "I have a bit of urgent business in England. I'd prefer if it was something discreet."

Gwen’s smile was sly.

“I do know a sheik who owes me a favor.”


****


“So where is this chick now?” Asked Alex.

“At the Savoy.” Wes said. “She doesn’t come to London without staying a night there apparently.”

The damphyr arched an eyebrow. “The Savoy? P.I. Business doing well, huh?”

Wes blanched, money was not something he was particularly comfortable discussing, it was times like this he usually turned to Cordelia to take the lead, but clearly Alex was not going to give him an inch. “I was er, hoping that, considering who will most benefit from her services—perhaps—”

“She’s fucking with you, Oxford,” Spike’s voice cut in wearily. His face was impassive but his jawline was tight. “I better be paying for results.”

Wesley’s concern softened. He looked worriedly after his friend.

“She is the best bet I’ve come across.” He said, but then hesitated which Spike caught immediately. At his scowl, Wes shrugged. “It’s un-dead neurosurgery, there is no precedent, but the theory of it is sound.”

Spike’s answering cocky grin didn’t looked forced per se and yet Wes knew he was forcing it. Moreover, he knew Alex would notice it as well. He locked eyes with her and she bit her lip. So she was nervous as well, this was not looking good. Wesley wondered if perhaps he made an error in judgement bringing Connor here.

“Don’t ever tell me the odds.” Spike said taking a swing of his whisky as he said it.

“Watch it, Spike, that’s your brain you’re messing with. it could turn you into a gibbering idiot.” Alex piped up.

“Feed me the way you feed the triplets and we’ll be golden.” the vampire shot back easily.

That took the teenager a few second of bewildered thinking before she rolled her eyes.

“Gross.”

“Hate to break up the party,” Simon piped up, He pulled his stethoscope out of his ears. He had been double checking Connor. “but I’ve exhausted all the tests I can think of with minimal equipment. I’ll send Gong Gong tomorrow, but I’ll just head out now.”

“Thanks for all your help, Simon.” Alex said with a grin.

He smiled and accepted her thanks with a shy nod.

“Fuck off, arsehole.” Raj supplied with a grin.

Simon blew him a kiss and then exited. Wesley looked after him and turned his arched eyebrow at Raj. Who caught his eye and returned the arched eyebrow in askance, Wes filed that look away for future reference.

Wes turned his attention back on Spike who was staring hard into his drink it looked like he wanted to ignite the tumbler. He looked from the vampire to Alex who seemed to understand right away.

“So, um, nothing looks like it’s going to be decided tonight, so I’m going to um, get some rooms ready for you guys.”

“Good idea.” Said Raj quickly catching on when Alex shoved him discreetly under the table. “Why don’t I help you?”

They both stood, but didn't go anywhere. Wesley noticed they seemed to be having some sort of eyebrow wiggling conversation, he realized neither of them knew Fred's name and the girl was studying Spike and not paying the damphyr and Raj any attention. After a painfully awkward moment, Wes finally tapped Fred on the shoulder.

"Fred?" He said softly, and indiacted Raj and Alex who both looked equal parts relieved and mortified.

“Oh! Me! Yes. I’ll er, come with you.” She said. “um, but what about—” she paused and her eyes fell on Connor still asleep in Spike’s arms.

“I’ll take him.” Spike said. “You’ll stay with your uncle Spike, yeah?”

Fred nodded and then followed Raj and Alex out of the library and up the stairs.

There was a short silence after they left, Wesley knew better than to leave. He knew he was here to keep Spike from going upstairs and making an ass of himself. Possibly more of an ass of himself.

They sat saying nothing but drinking. Neither of them breached the silence, neither of them really felt that they had to. Spike was lost in his own thoughts and Wesley was worried about his friend, worried he hadn't done the right thing worried that he had royally fucked up yet again.

Spike glanced upstairs. Wesley wondered if he knew he was doing it.

“You can’t.” He said after taking a sip of his own drink.

“You don’t think I know that?” He shot back instantly. “Of course I bloody well, can’t, can I? It’s her precious bloody Angel. Can’t press her. Can’t smother her. Fuck. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

He drained his glass and looked down at it weighing it in his hand, Wesley worried that he would fling it at the wall.

Bugger. Perhaps he should not have come here.

Wes stood and brought the bottle over to where they were sitting. He poured a generous amount into Spike’s tumbler and took a sip of his own.

“Can’t push her.” The vampire repeated bitterly as he brought the tumbler to his lips. “Because Angel does that. Angel’s the pusher. Angel is the one who likes to be in charge. Likes to be the one who holds all the bloody cards. Here, Slayer, here’s something that’s happening, go and stop it. Do your duty. Wanker.”

He took another long drink. Wes matched him but said nothing, knowing that Spike would continue on. It was funny how quickly he had slotted into place here. The familliar facade of No. 9 had felt inexplicably like home when he and Fred had pulled up in front of it.

Spike was ranting on, like he usually did when they were drinking like this.

“Treated my girl like she was just anyone.” He said bitterly. “He didn’t try and support her, never fought beside her. With her. Always trying to protect her or sending her off on her own like a stupid arsehole. THen coming 'round in the last minute! so he can be the hero instead of being there in the first place! Always in the shadows brooding and sullen cursing his bloody curse and then beatin' off to it because it makes him good because it makes him feel bad about the kittens and puppes piss off! Make up your mind, you big wailing twat.”

Wes tried not to chuckle at him, but Spike got oddly plaintive when he was drunk. and he was in fine form tonight, he was positively buzzing with pent up energy.

Wesley wondered, not for the first time, what Spike did all day, the vamp was always so restless. Spike stood and paced. In his little make-shift bed, Connor shifted and yawned. SPike absently smoothed the dark down that covered the baby's head.

They both drank in silence for a little while.

“You would have fought with her? With Buffy?” He asked unable to keep the wry smile from his face. Spike liked to talk a big bad game, but he was a softy when it came down to it.

Turned to him like a shot. It was as if Wesley had insulted Spike’s precious Manchester United.

“Damn straight. I would. Did. Do.” He said. “Did even before all this.” He waved his hand around to indicate what he meant.

“You love her.” He blurted out.

To his surprise, Spike didn’t even try and deny it. He just smiled resignedly and drained his glass again holding it out for more. Wesley immediately obliged him. He knew the non-answer was as much answer as he was going to get from the vampire.

“But she’s—she’s so—”

“Human? Slayer-like? California girl? Perfect? Chosen? powerful? beautiful?”

Wesley smirked.

“I was going to say young.” He said refilling his own glass. He took a whiff and thought the better of trying to match Spike. The vampire did have twenty pounds and a hundred years on him.

Spike barked a laugh at that one. He leaned back and lit picked a cigarette out of his pocket but then looked over at the baby and growled, quickly pocketing the cigarettes.

“Got me there, mate.” He said, his smile, when he smiled, was genuine, not the trademark smirk. “Never thought young would be my style, to be honest.”

Wesley quirked an eyebrow.

They had talked for hours before, they had argued about movies and soccer teams and demon breeds. Spike could talk about anything, but he very rarely talked about his past, or who he was in his human form. The last time Spike had been this chatty, had been after his first tryst with Buffy while they both steadily got day-drunk and Raj and Buffy made plans around them.

He sipped instead of swigged his alcohol, he desperately wanted to remember what he was talking about with the vampire this time.

“Always been Angel’s bag.” Spike said. “Me? Classic Mama’s boy.” His blunt assessment amused Wesley. Spike waived away Wes’s half hearted protest. “Don’t bother, I’ve read the studies.”

Wesley openly scoffed at that.

“You’re telling me you read psychology books while holed up in your lair?”

Spike smirked.

“No. I’m telling you I’ve read the watcher’s diaries on yours truly.”

Wes’s eyes bogged out of his head.

“How the bloody hell did you get a hold of those?”

Spike shrugged.

“There were a bunch that Rupes kept around his flat, had time to kill, for a man called to be a watcher from his breeching, that man does not know how to tie up vamps. Bit of a blind spot, that.”

Wesley barked a laugh. He could actually see that clearly in his mind's eye, Spike waiting until he could heart the watcher was fast asleep to shrug off his bindings only to spend the whole night holed up with a good book about himself. “You could get free and you sat and read watcher diaries about yourself?”

“Wot? It’s not all pillaging and maiming!” was the vampire's reply. “Sometimes it’s daylight and boredom. ‘Sides, don’t tell me you wouldn’t read up everything you could find on yourself if you could.”

Wesley shook his head.

“I’m not honestly sure I would want to know.”

Spike smirked, sniffed and wiped his nose. “You know, I almost believe that.”

Wes felt his heckles rise in spite of himself. He was able to calm down seeing the sharp scrutiny on the vampire’s face. Spike was testing the waters here, prodding a weak spotto see how he would react. Wes was getting better on sussing out the vampire's motives.

Spike could blather on about how bad he was and how evil, but Wes believed absolutely that the vampire eschwed a chance to figure out how to feed if he had a chance to get his hands on all the Watcher Diaries he could. He wasn't called the Slayer of Slayer's for nothing. Spike knew how to play a long con, No. 9 was testament to that. It seemed to be the short ones he had trouble with.

“Tell me then, mate,” Wesley asked changing the subject. “why are you dressed like a substitute teacher?”

Spike barked a laugh.

“That would be the minion's fault.” He said drinking thoughtfully. “the bit’s gone and got herself suspended and I had to go tell the headmistress what’s what.”

Wes nodded and considered the outfit.

“Going for overkill then?”

“You haven’t seen the best part!” Spike offered pulling a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles out of a pocket and resting them on his nose. He let them go with relish. “going for befuddled but charming aristo. Thoughts?”

“I could see Hugh Grant in that get up.”

“Notting Hill Hugh Grant or actual Hugh Grant?”

“The fact that you asked me that speaks volumes to Buffy’s attempt at educating herself on Britishness.” Wes said. “But Notting Hill Hugh Grant. Was that what you were going for?”

The vampire sniggered lightly. “Puppy dog eyes and all.”

“Suspended, Bugger. She’s been there a month?”

“Did you have a month?”

“No. Raj did.”

“Bugger. I had 4. Bad things always seem to happen in May.”

“She able to talk herself out of it?”

“No need.” Spike puffed out his chest proudly. “Her ‘Da came round to tell them what’s what.”

Wesley raised his glass, impressed. Spike smiled and they toasted to that. They lapsed into a companionable silence, sipping their respective drinks and watched Connor fuss in his sleep. Wesley sincerely hoped the child would sleep through the night this time, he had been keeping Fred and Wes up for hours since Gwen Raiden had point blank refused to go anywhere near the infant.

Wesley took another long thoughtful sip. He had been so focused on getting here, he didn't have very much of ap lan about what to do now that he was here, but he supposed that would have to wait until tomorrow. He glanced up to see SPike sneaking another forlorn look upstairs. He caught the vampire's eye and Spike sighed heavily.

“I like difficult women, Oxford,” he offered. “Always find myself after fucking crazy, bloody outrageous women. Always thought that I made myself into Spike for Drusilla, that I made myself into what I thought she wanted me to be. My dark princess. But now I’ve sussed it out, I’m starting to see that I became who I am for her.”

Wesley didn’t need to ask which “her” he was talking about. Spike took another long thoughtful drink of his whiskey and topped up his glass.

“She needs some monster in her man. Specifically this monster. And this man.”

Wes wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but thankfully Spike saved him from having to comment by bringing up the one thing he wasn’t really sure he wanted to talk about.

“So what’s the deal with the bird, then, Oxford?”

“You noticed that?”

“You brought home a girl, Wesley.”

Wesley closed his eyes. Of course Spike would notice. Fucking vampire.

Though much as he wished there was something to confess, he was afraid that the affection was one sided, Fred had been pretty silent since leaving LA. She had been instrumental in taking care of Connor though.

If he was being truly honest, he didn’t just bring Fred with him because he needed the extra set of hands, or for her own protection even, he brought her so that he would have someone else in LA that knew about this place. That knew about this second life, so he could remember that it was real.

In a way he had brought her home, and Spike had teased that out after exchanging about three words with her.

“Know what I’m good at, mate.” Spike said answering Wes’ unspoken question. “And that’s people. You were wondering how I knew that just now.”

“Am I really that obvious?”

“Doubt the girls have sussed it out.” The vamp replied. “But god help you if they do.”

“They are a bit distracted, thankfully.” Wes said. He indicated the infant sleeping in the drawer. “Be glad he’s tuckered out, he has quite the decibel range.”

“He looks just like his mum.”

“How well did you know Darla?”

“The Happy Hooker?” Spike asked. “I knew her. I knew her like i knew Angelus and Dru. We were a family, weren't we? The Four of us ransacking out way from England to China. Darla put up with Dru and I for a bit after Canton, then we headed off to the North and Darla fled back to her precious Master." Spike drank deeply. "She was something, Darla. There is something charismatic about her, that woman could make men move mountains for her.”

His hand twitched.

“If you want a cigarette, Spike, you should open a window.”

“Right, cover the moppet will you?”

Carefully as he could, Wes picked up the drawer and put it on the other side of the room, Connor didn’t stir.

“She slept like a log too.” Spike observed as he walked to the window. He didn't expand on that, just opened the window and let the cold damp air into the room. He lit a cigarette and started to smoke it, blowing the smoke out the window. After a few minutes of agitated smoking the vampire chucked the cigarette onto the sidewalk and tuned back to Wesley.

“Right, she’s probably finished taking her things from m’room now.” He said. “May as well turn in, been a bit of a day.”

“You go, Spike,” Wesley said with a sad smile. “I’ll clean up here.”

“Fuck it.” Spike said. He jerked his head up toward the second floor so it would be clear who he was indicating. “She’s the only one who cares about coasters. We’ll deal with it tomorrow. ‘Sides, I expect that girl of yours is waitin’ in your room.”

Wesley sighed and nodded.

Spike took the drawer.

“C’mon, moppet. Let’s go upstairs.”

****

Author's note: Hi all! I rushed to get this chapter out, and it kinda showed. I'm so sorry, I have fixed it up and rewrote bits of it to make more sense, added some character stuff for Wesley. The nExt Chapter will be short and sweet and then we'll get back to plot!!
Chapter 31 - In for the Night by Petra
Chapter Thirty-One - In for the Night

Wesley watched Spike saunter off. He paused wondering if the vampire was right, even for Spike’s uncanny ability to read people, the few minutes he had spent with Fred. There was no way he had Fred’s number, Wesley had known her for months and could still never predict what she was going to do.

Thankfully, he had a distraction. He pulled out the cellphone he had purchased in LA and dialed the familiar number.

Cordelia answered at the first ring.

“Where are you?”

“I am not going to tell you that. But suffice to say, Connor is safe. Safest place I can think of.”

There was a pause.

“His name is Connor?” Her tone was as neutral as she could get it, but he could hear the slight tremble in her voice.
Instantly guilty he had essentially flown the coop, Wesley sighed.

“Yes.”

There was another long pause; Wesley could see Cordelia in her mind’s eye trying not to cry in front of her high school friends. When she spoke again her voice was tight and irritated. Classic Cordelia defection, He tried to picture the girl in the library in front of the Scoobie gang, but then they probably didn’t congregate in the library any longer, last he had heard they had blown up the school.

“Uhm, Hello! Safest place is Sunnydale with the gang,” Cordy snapped. “and the gangs all here except for the most important thing —you know? The thing we are supposed to be protecting and making sure it gets it shots or whatever and we can’t do that! Because you went off to play Carmen San Diego.”

Wesley had put a lot of thought into what he would say, he was confident he had made the right move.

“Cordelia—”

“We were supposed to meet at Giles’s!” she cut him off. “Which behold my lack of surprise is basically books, tea, and a record player.”

“Oh, were we?” Wes couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face. He could almost imagine the harrumph coming from his counterpart.

“Well, we didn’t say it but it was implied!” She snapped. “supernatural demon-y badness equals Sunnydale, Scoobie—Fuck.”
There was a soft thump.

“Shut up, Xander.” Her voice lowered for a second as she clearly was speaking to someone in the background. “Where the fuck are you?”

“I took Connor to the safest place I could think of.”

There was a long pause, Wes wondered if anyone had been able to calm her down and found new respect for the scoobie gang. When she spoke her voice was more exasperated that angry.

“Where?”

“Er—perhaps it’s better not to say.”

“Right, better not to know; so all the fun torture Angelus might do later on is as ineffectual as it is painful. Fun.”

“How is Sunnydale?”

“The same. Like totally and absolutely the same, like I can’t believe I’ve only lived two hours away and yet feel so much bigger than this, how can there only be one Starbucks here? the same.”

“Right.” Wesley said. “Connor is doing well I took him to a- er paramedic of sorts.”

“How is the EPT?”

“The ETE?”

“That one.”

“I’m told Connor is a normal human child. All the immediate testing is done, he seems perfectly healthy.”

“Good. Good.” Cordy said. “That’s good. I think that’s good, not working with much of a precedent here.”

“We’re all flying blind, Cordelia.” Wesley said. “Did he—have you hear anything from him?”

He didn’t have to clarify who “him” was.

“No.” Cordy replied. “But Giles thinks he’ll probably take a day or two to regroup. He didn’t reveal himself to Buffy until a few hours after he lost his soul.”

“Call me if anything.”

“This is not how I wanted to spend my weekend, Wes.” Cordy said with a sigh. “When Angel gets back here I’m going to rip his heart out myself.”

Wes managed a dark chuckle at that, there were a lot of things he would want to say to Angel when he got his friend back, but right now it was hard to think beyond anything other than the dark stretch in front of him.

“Wes, the last time he turned it was—” she hesitated. “—not good.”

“Cordy—”

“I’m not sure what to do, I feel the sudden need to do a dis-invite spell on my car.”

Wes shook off the odd comment. He could hear the scoobies saying things in the background.

“Take care of him, Wes.”

“I’m making arrangements.”


*****


As he spoke to Cordy he had walked up the stairs, and found himself in front of the door to his room. There was a weird comfort in knowing it was his room, he opened the door and froze at the sight of Fred sitting on the bed and biting her nails.

“Hi. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” She said her voice wavering.

He didn’t reply, just stood there. He wasn’t sure why, he wasn’t surprised, Spike had basically warned him she would be there. He was just a bit in awe of Fred, sitting on his bed.

She took his silence as an affirmation that she was intruding. She bit her lip, steeled herself—she actually physically squared her shoulders. When she looked at him again she looked like a studied version of steely. “No-actually I did mean to surprise you. I need you to tell me what we are doing here and who these people are and how you knew about this place and also where are we? And Does Cordelia know where we are and has Angelus called and—and—”

Despite how serious she desperately wanted to look angry, it was hard not to smile.

“We’re in London.” Wesley said latching onto to the first thing he could answer.

She deflated at that.

“London?”

“Yes.” He said. “We’re at my friend Spike’s house.”

Fred looked confused and it suddenly struck Wesley that he had been incredibly successful in keeping his worlds separate. It was unfathomable to him that someone he knew as well as he did Spike, could not know all about Fred.

“The man in the black?”

Wesley sighed, how did one describe Spike?

“Spike is a vampire.”

At this Fred looked even more baffled.

“Another good vampire?” she questioned. “Does he also have a soul because apparently that isn’t much of a guarantee.”

Wesley shook his head. “No, no soul. Spike just—well, he’s and Buffy are er—together.”

“Buffy as in Angel’s ex who I’m not supposed to talk about?”

Wesley nodded. “The very same one.”

“She’s been alive all this time and you knew?” she looked like she was starting to get angry now. Wesley was about to scramble for an explanation, but Fred seemed to be able to tamp down on her temper. “And she’s been hiding here with those other people?”

“Raj is an old family friend, I don’t know who his friend is, but the teenager is named Alex. She’s Buffy and Spike’s daughter.”

This actually took Fred aback. She stared at Wesley in askance.

“So when you say vampire’s can’t have kids—that was not even a little bit true?”

Wesley cringed. “I understand the assertion may seen—suspect—to you but I assure you it’s unheard off before now.”

“Right.” Fred said nodding absently. “Right.”

She sat back down on the bed and started to fidget restlessly.

Wesley attempted a smile. “Would you like for me to get you a sharpie?”

His gentle teasing did not go over well.

“Wes, we just crossed border illegally with a woman who has—in the past—killed you, I don’t think I’m being out of line asking why we brought Connor here!” She had started sunny and Fred-like, but she started to get more and more panicked as she progressed. “I mean I’ve never been out of America. Except for Pylea and I’m trying to keep it together because I’m the last of everyone’s problems right now, but—” Fred threw her hands up in the air. “But this is crazy, I’m in England! Real England which doesn’t seem- I’m— I mean I know that England is closer than Pylea I know that in my head but then now I’m here and I’m trying very, very hard to keep the universe from un-clicking. Its not easy to keep it all together!”

Her hands were in her hair and immediately Wesley felt like the worst kind of idiot, of course she was having a breakdown, his gentle teasing was probably the last thing she needed right now.

“Fred, Fred! Please calm down Fred,” Awkwardly, he reached out and pulled her to him. He expected her to start to cry, but she just hiccupped and stilled. Wes squeezed her once, pulled away and somehow, everything came out. “Spike and Buffy were taken months ago by an organization we believe is working with Wolfram and Hart. They are making experiments with hybrids, I think that maybe they might also have a hand in creating Connor. Buffy, Spike, and Alex are all in hiding—here.”

Fred stopped and considered this and then looked around at the opulent room and bit her lip. “This is not what I picture when I think of bein’ on the run.”

“This is, believe it or not, Spike’s house from when he was a human.” Wesley supplied with a wry grin.

Fred didn’t respond with the astonishment that had become standard issue to Wesley whenever he thought of the bleached wonder as a gentleman.

“That was some foresight.” Was all she said on the subject.

“I don’t think Spike had a plan in mind when he saved it.” He said. “but no one knows about it, not even Angel.”

“Why would Angel know?”

Wesley marveled once again just how little Angel’s past had come up in the few month that Fred had been with them.

“Angel sired Drusilla, who in turn sired Spike.” He said.

“So Angel is Spike’s grandsire?” Fred said uncertainly.

Wesley shrugged.

“I don’t know if siredom is transitive like that.” He said. “Something to ask Spike now that I think about it.”

Angel was less than forthcoming about his time as Angelus, something that Wesley had never really thought about until he was face-to-face with the Jekyll side of his friend. As he was thinking about this, Fred was thinking about something else.

“Would that make him Connor’s nephew?”

Wesley snorted. “Tell Spike that tomorrow morning, I’m sure he’d love it.”

“And Angel thinks that Spike is dead?”

Wesley nodded. “Or at least he’s disappeared.”

Fred nodded. She stood and nodded. “Okay.” She said.

“Okay?” Wes asked.

“I needed to understand.” She said simply. “I needed to see why you would risk so much exposure. This is the safest place for Connor, it’s taking him out of the equation which tips the balance for our side. The only thing I can’t figure out is Gwen Raiden.”

After everything that had happened there was something anticlimactic about her reaction. Wesley wasn’t sure why but he felt like it should have been harder, she should have been angrier or feel more betrayed. But instead she seemed to only want an explanation, and that having been provided seemed content to move on to the next crisis. He racked his brains trying to figure out if he had left anything out.

“Oh, Gwen Raiden,” he said. “Spike has a microchip in his head, I think she would be able to help with.”

“So we regroup tomorrow.” Fred said with a nod. “Right.”

“Did I-Did I comfort you just now? You seemed upset—”

Fred grinned. “I was. You explained it.”

“We will come up a plan tomorrow.” Wesley promised.

The girl nodded.

“Yes,” She said firmly. “We will.”

She opened the door and slipped out.

Wesley wasn’t sure why, but it felt good to say that out-loud, He had heard it from Spike and from Buffy, but Fred knew the other side and she thought he had made the right call. Somehow, that lifted a weight off his chest.

He still felt a bit out of sorts for some reason, like some rug had been pulled out from under him.

“Not sure what you thought was going to happen, you git.” He said to himself. “It’s not like she was going to fall into your arms sobbing and unhappy for you to comfort and hold.”

He collapsed onto his bed, fully-dressed and tried to convince himself he hadn’t wanted the opportunity to do just that until he passed out.


****


There were too many things buzzing about in Spike’s head to properly enjoy drinking with Wesley. Usually, a nightcap with the former watcher would be an excellent way to end an evening, His favorite way, in fact, barring some good old fashioned violence or a bit of rough and tumble with Buffy, but tonight there was just too much to think about.

As he exited the living room he heard Wesley start a conversation with Cordelia and could hear her frustration coming though the wires, tinny and adamant. He smirked, glad he didn’t have to deal with the cheerleader again.

But as soon as he dismissed a complaining Cordelia, his thoughts turned—unerringly—back to his slayer upstairs and, he assumed, packing up everything she had amassed in the last few weeks ready to take Sunnydale by storm.

Spike could feel the brooding coming on and much as he hated it, he couldn’t help it. Most of the thoughts bouncing around in his brain were half baked frustrations and the beginnings of a desperate speech begging Buffy to stay with him and not rush back to her precious Angel.

They were in such a precarious spot and he couldn’t believe he had come so close to everything he’d ever wanted only to have it ripped away. Much as he wanted to rail at Wes for putting him in this position in the first place, he couldn’t fault him for bringing Connor to the safest place he knew.

Angelus was a fucked up bugger, and if he was coming after Connor, Spike had some experience dealing with his grandsire. Far away, No. 9 was the best place to keep the boy—his seduction plans be damned.

Spike looked down at the infant, it was a tiny and fidgety little ball of human.

They had set him up snug in his carrycot, he was staring out at the world with large wide eyes, light grey, but no recognizable color yet. Connor stared back at him, blinked and then sneezed, a tiny breakable sound. Spike waited for the flood of empathy or protectiveness.

“Not sure what I’m supposed to feel for you, mop.” He rumbled lightly. “Not that any of this is your fault, far from it.”

Bloody hell, what a night, first Alexis, then the revelation that he and Buffy were having triplets and now this.

It was hard not to think of the moppet as practice. The kid fixed his little grey eyes on Spike and made a small hiccupping sound.

“Oh Bugger, Moppet, Don’t cry.” Spike said. “Don’t cry!”

He seemed to be listening to the vampire because Connor just wobbled in his little bed and then continued to stare at Spike.

The vampire hoped Connor would end up looking like his mother, right now the boy just looked like a newborn, bald and red and not up to very much. Spike had hoped he would look at a child and magically know what to do, he’d be inundated with parenting hormones or some rot, but he supposed that wasn’t how the world worked. He was clueless, he had no idea how to care for a child.

“Sorry to think of you as a dry-run.” He apologized wryly. “We’ll get you a proper set up soon enough, though, I promise. Just need to suss out what step two is, your father is a piece of work. For now you have your cot, and we’ll keep you fed and safe. ”

Connor burbled his answer. Spike knew that there were people who melted at the sight of children, just like he knew he probably would never be one of those people. However, in a weird sinister way, Dru had, Angelus had as well. Just the thought of what could happen to the helpless infant if he fell into their hands was enough to make Spike shudder.

“We’re going to have to do something about him at some point, moppet.” He said. “Anchor his soul to his body somehow, Bloody duct tape. If your Mother knew how easy it was to separate it out she maybe wouldn’t have chucked him out on his ass in China.”
He ascended the stairs up to the first floor.

Connor was Angel’s son. Angels’ son with Darla, two people he could not imagine with children—living ones anyway. But then, he never reckoned he’d ever be father.

Never reckoned he’d fall for the slayer, neither.

“You don’t look much like him, Moppet.” Spike assured him. “but then you all look like Chummy Churchill to me.”

He was talking to an infants padding up the stairs to the Master Bedroom of No. 9. Surprises abounded in his unlife.

“Looks like we all end up different places that we think.” He said shaking his head. “Buffy’s bust a nut. If I know her and I do, she’s the cute blonde who’s the mother of my children, she’ll be all packed and ready to go.” He clarified for Connor. “She used to date your father. It’s going to be bloody complicated, but I’d imagine we’re heading back to California to have it out tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

He paused on the steps. Tomorrow he was going to have to face Buffy. And Wesley and what they were going to have to do, and he desperately didn’t want to. He wasn’t stupid, Connor’s arrival, everything that had happened today had popped the bubble he and Buffy had been fucking in. Obliterated it actually. Connor was a reminder of what was waiting for her in California. All perfect and bundled in a little package, the fall out of Angelus, and he was dealing with it. Again.

He had known there was no choice, the boy was family after all, and Spike—pissed as he was—wasn’t going to take it out on Wesley or the boy.

But he was pissed; pissed as hell. His insides had gone cold at the sight of Oxford, he hadn’t been able to look Buffy in the eye through the entire story of what happened. He didn’t want to see the regret written there—Buffy had no poker face. So he just sat and pouring drinks and refused to see her preferring Angel to him. Refused to watch the moment she chose Angel right in front of him.

But then she turned to him and he—bitch that he was—automatically gathered her in his arms. She melted into his embrace and he was angry at himself for caving so easily, for being there and holding her, because of course he was holding her. He had not even stopped to think about it.

In the ensuing drinking that commenced he had been too agitated to properly enjoy Oxford’s company or the sharp smoky whiskey or even his cigarette. He felt like he was going to explode from the pressure of how much he had wanted to race upstairs, fling open her door, and beg her not to let that last little sob over Angelus be the last time he held her.

His hands are tightened on the wood of the drawer. It creaked and Spike loosened his grip.

“Sorry,” He muttered to the now-sleeping Connor.

He was just about to open his door when something caught his notice.

It was a heartbeat.

He paused. He had expected it to be down the hall in her room, but it was louder than that, and that could only mean—he didn’t allow himself to hope.

Sure enough, he could feel her. He could feel the presence of the slayer tug at the edge of his senses as he entered the dark room. The push-pull at the nape of his consciousness had become familiar. She was a predator, but she was also his mate—it was a unique signature that could only be Buffy.

He entered the room to see her curled up on her side of the bed, her dark curles were spread out across her pillow. She was fast asleep. She stirred a tiny bit when he closed the door behind him and set the make-shift bassinet on the ground next to the bed.
He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t this. He expected her to be awake, to be angry, or packed or stressed. He had expected her to demand that they pack their things and make for Sunnydale as soon as possible. He had expected this to become a fight but there she was, asleep in her usual spot, her kimono draped across the foot of the bed, because she had intended to wake up there.

And just like that, all of Spike’s fears and insecurities melted away. All of his superstitions and barriers disappeared. Those words he had been afraid of suddenly came front and center.

He had known back in Sunnydale, there was something about her. He could sense her presence in the Project and even in his state; he didn’t stop until he found her.

He had been so afraid to give the thoughts shape even in his head, but here she was. Sunnydale was in Peril, Angelus was on the loose, and Buffy came back to him. He slid into bed next to her and pulled her into his arms.

She melted into him easily and without preamble he cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers. Softly, painfully gently, he held her to him, trying to tell her everything with that kiss, all of his insecurities, fears, the depth of his emotions for her, the oddness that was his and Angelus’ relationship.

Her could feel it in her kiss when she woke.

“What time is it?” She asked blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

“It’s late.”

“Connor?”

“Got him set up next to Uncle Spike.” He said. He pressed his lips to her head. “We going to California?”

She frowned blearily.

“Can’t.” She said simply. She shifted but didn’t pull away. “You know that.”

Spike considered her for a moment, and ran his fingers through her hair gently.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart.”

Buffy nodded. “Mm-kay.”

He continued to stroke her hair until her heartbeat slowed again as she fell back asleep. When he was sure she was sufficiently peaceful, he murmured:

“I love you.”


******

Author's note: Sorry, sorry Sorry! I promise more soon! I totally cross my heart promise! I'm writing it this weekend!
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