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Author's Chapter Notes:
This story is being updated after 2 years. (about dang time, huh?) And this is an unbeta'd chapter, so please feel free to point out any errors.
When we last left this story, Spike, Buffy and crew were on their way to England and were under Watcher Council protection.
Chapter 29

By the time the chauffeured automobile had passed through a set of formidable gates and pulled into the circular driveway that framed the stately mansion that housed the Watcher's Council, Joyce was completely fed up with the entire organization. They took cryptic and close-mouthed to an entirely new level; one that had her ready to pull out her hair - and theirs.

"I just want to know if she is alive." It was a question that Joyce had repeated numerous times during the short drive, and one that she had yet to get a satisfactory response to. That deliberate slight left her victim to a mother's vivid imagination, where she'd quite easily come up with a number of scenarios - and not one of them concluded with a happy ending.

But she refused to give into her fears that her daughter was dead.

As the car came to a smooth stop at the top of the drive, Joyce leapt from the back of the vehicle without a moment's hesitation. She'd told herself on the way from the airport that it was time to leave the hysterical mother routine behind. That a more cool approach was in order since it was obvious her indignant hysteria wasn't getting the job done - and had quite possibly added to the tight lips of this organization that had been such a big part of her daughter's life.

A part that Joyce had known nothing about until after Buffy had been kidnapped.


Taking a deep breath, Joyce faced the latest Council employee who'd obviously been given the task of 'dealing' with her, noting that they all seemed to have adopted the same dour fashion sense and grim manner. Rupert was actually an exception, possessing something in the way of a sense of humor. That was something she'd quickly discovered upon his obligatory entry into her life.

Thoughts of Buffy's watcher gave her strength and Joyce drew herself up firmly. She could do this. A quick glance in Willow's direction buoyed her determination as she witnessed the impressive look of resolve that was set upon the face of Buffy's young friend.

Well, she could do resolve too.

"Welcome to Council Headquarters. Ms. Summers, Miss Rosenberg," the newest Council member greeted before abruptly spinning on his heel to lead them away, fully expecting an onslaught or questions. "If you would follow me, I will take you to the rooms that I was asked to prepare for your arrival." Without waiting to see if they were following, he led them inside, and Joyce had the feeling that she was being handled much like she'd had to handle a stubborn five-year-old Buffy.

But for some odd reason, it was working.

Willow and Joyce were led through a maze of hallways and shown to a pair of tastefully decorated adjoining rooms, both turning to face their escort expectantly.

"The Council members are in a meeting at this current time and are not to be disturbed. Mr. Travers will send for you within the next thirty minutes," their escort smoothly informed then before taking his leave. Finding themselves alone, Joyce had to wonder just where her nerve had gone.

"Boy, that guy has some pretty impressive maneuvering skills," Willow commented, staring at the closed door. "Wonder how he does that." She turned to regard Buffy's mother. "So... we just wait?"

Joyce sighed heavily, fatigue working its way through her body and she collapsed into a welcoming overstuffed side chair. "I guess so."

It was the longest half hour of Joyce's life.

******

Rocking his daughter in the comfortable chair the Council had provided, Spike refused to take his eyes off of Buffy. Her paleness and unnatural stillness disturbed him immensely and he double-checked yet again to reassure himself that her blood transfusion continued to run. Confident that the bag of packed cells hanging on the pole above her head continued to drip, he settled back.

He knew better than anybody just how much she needed that blood.

Now that they were safely tucked away in the Council's clutches, Spike found himself at odds with entire concept of being housed within the enemy. But he was grateful for the impressive medical capabilities the Council had at their disposal. A hospital would have put them at risk and raised far too many questions.

He just hoped the care was enough.

Truth was, he was worried. After they had finally landed in London, Spike had assumed that the activity that followed would have provided enough stimuli to arouse Buffy from her long slumber, yet she had not stirred. Not even the hungry cry of their baby had managed to bring her out of what he hoped was merely a restorative sleep. Knowing the little bit needed to eat, he’d finally been forced to try the infant formula that had been offered. The formula had done the trick, however, and allowed his daughter to fall back into her own deep sleep. Spike knew he'd probably hear about it later from Buffy, but for now, he was convinced he'd made the right decision.

Voluntarily entering the Watcher's Council had been an experience. One that he would have preferred to experience with a conscious slayer at his side - not to mention at his back. He'd half expected to be greeted with something sharp and pointy, and that feeling only intensified with every step that took him further into the bowels of the enemy. He was surprised to find himself taking comfort in the quiet presence of Angel looming in front of him as he walked alongside the gurney that transported Buffy, a definite first in their century-long association. The added mortal protection of Buffy's watcher trailing behind and the soldier girl at his side went a long way in offering a tiny measure of reassurance that he would unlive to see Buffy awaken. Nobody had attempted to step forward to relieve him of the swathed baby in his arms, and he was grateful for that – not knowing what his inherent reaction would have been if an attempt had been made to take his daughter, but fairly certain it wouldn’t have been a tame response.

But now that they were settled within the Council's secure headquarters -more or less - the wait had become excruciating, and the edgy vampire just wanted Buffy awake. Travers had excused himself shortly after their arrival, citing that he had matters to attend to. Spike could only help that meant covering up anything that had to do with this supernatural birth. He’d spent the last nine months looking over his shoulder and he didn’t fancy having to continue doing so.

Especially when he had his daughter and Buffy to consider now.

His eyes leapt to the door when he heard a soft knock from the other side. The medical staff had not offered that simple courtesy of knocking, merely coming and going as they pleased. The deluge of medical staff had slowed to a trickle during the past few hours and Spike was appreciative of the respite. After witnessing what the council was truly capable of, the high-tech medical capabilities within the Council walls hadn't come as much of a surprise. Even in the short time he'd been there, Spike had realized that he was being expected to act true to stereotype, given the worried and suspicious glances he was getting. And before Buffy had come into his life, he most likely would have met expectation. But for now, he’d keep his mouth shut and his fangs in check since to do otherwise wouldn’t help Buffy.

And that just wouldn’t bloody do.

When another knock followed the first, Spike sighed in irritation. "What?" He didn't bother to keep his voice down; hoping the noise would jar Buffy from her extended and prolonged slumber.

It didn’t come as much of a surprise to see Angel slowly push the door open and walk in.

"She's still out," Spike announced unnecessarily. "Not gonna be able to talk to her just now."

Angel shuffled into the middle of the room, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans causing his shoulders to fall forward in an unflattering hunch. "Yeah, I know. I actually came to talk to you." He nodded towards the unoccupied seat adjacent to Spike. "Mind if I sit?"

Spike merely shook his head, suspicious both of Angel's demeanor and the fact that he’d asked permission - not something Spike was used to from his elder.

When Angel had lowered himself into the chair, Spike regarded him warily, wondering if this confrontation was going to come to blows. Instinctively, he tucked his daughter on the other side of him, as far from Angel's reach as possible.

If Angel noticed the deliberate action, he did not comment, merely focusing his gaze on the still figure in the bed. Finally, the elder vamp sighed and turned his attention to other vampire. "I, uh, just wanted to say thanks."

Spike blinked, the gratitude unexpected. "For wot?" he couldn't help but ask, eyeing Angel suspiciously. He knew that he owed his grand-sire a fair piece of gratitude for his part in their escape, and he’d been fully expecting Angel to bring that to his attention. It was something that Angelus would have loved to rub in – how much Spike owed him.

Angel nodded towards the bed. "You know for what. For... taking care of her."

The blonde vampire scoffed. "Don't need to bloody thank me for that, you know. They put my seed in her. Not much else I could do but take care of her." He looked down at the sleeping baby. "Of them."

"Yeah, there was something else you could have done," Angel stated simply and quietly. "That thing that Angelus would have done."

The thought of Buffy and his daughter at the cruel hands of Angelus ignited his demon's ire and Spike snarled, his facial bones protesting as they slid into the mask of his monster.

Angel tensed for the imminent attack and questioned his intelligence for bringing up the fact that without a soul, he was a truly heartless and sadistic bastard. That he would have taken great pleasure in torturing Buffy and would most likely have killed his own baby in the process.

Sometimes he really hated himself.

A pained sigh from the direction of the bed halted Spike in mid-attack.

“If you guys are going to go all with the grr and snarly, could you please take it outside?” Buffy announced wearily. “And better yet, without my baby in the middle of it?”

In the blink of an eye, Spike’s whole demeanor changed. Facial features sliding effortlessly back into place, he stepped quickly to the bedside, his face now clouded with worry.

“Pet? You a bit of all right now?”

Buffy nodded weakly. “Yeah, I think so. Just really tired and more than a little sore. How long was I sleeping the sleep of the truly comatose?”

“A while, luv. Scared me, you did.”

“Sorry.” Buffy reached out her hand to touch the bundled baby in Spike’s arms. “How is she?”

Spike didn’t waste any time placing his precious cargo into her waiting arms. “She’s a fighter, just like her mum.” Giving her a tender smile, he settled onto the edge of the bed and watched the mother/daughter reunion taking place. Maternal pride had wiped off any trace of fatigue and Spike felt his heart crumble just a little bit more at the sight before him.

Christ, he loved this girl.

An awkward shuffle of feet broke the spell and Spike couldn’t help the impatient sigh that left his lungs. He gave the other vampire an impatient look.

“Uh, hi,” Angel greeted Buffy nervously, taking a few steps closer to the bed.

Buffy dragged her attention from the two most important people in her life and offered her former boyfriend a small smile. “Angel… hey.”

“Uh, how are you feeling?”

Buffy snorted and offered him a weak eye roll. “Oh, just peachy.” She sighed heavily as a wave of weariness washed over her. “Ok, maybe not so much with the peachy, but I’m sure I’ll fine again in no time. Slayer healing and all that.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “Uh, thank you for your help yesterday. I am kind of embracing the concept of the not wanting to remember, but I do remember you and Xander riding to the rescue. We wouldn’t have made it out of there without you guys.”

Angel gave her a sincere smile. “Actually, it was pretty much a group effort, but you’re welcome.” He turned his attention to Spike. “Let me know if you need anything, ok? I’m going to go find Rupert.” With a stealthiness that belied his earlier unease, he slipped through the door, leaving Spike and Buffy blessedly alone.

The blond vampire turned to regard Buffy, cupping the side of her face gently with the palm of his hand. “Do you need anything, Pet?”

Buffy shook her head. “Not so much. I pretty much just want to lay here and not move.”

Before Spike could reply, the door to the room opened and one of the medical staff that he had cursed earlier entered. “Oh good, our patient is awake,” she announced brightly, making her way across the room to check on the blood transfusion and various other intravenous fluids connected to Buffy’s hand. The presence of a vampire didn’t seem to bother her as much as it had seemed to bother some of her colleagues and Spike was grateful for the suspicious respite, watching as she went about checking her patient’s blood pressure and other pertinent vital signs. He patiently endured the interruption, knowing it was for Buffy’s benefit. It disturbed him to think what her condition would have been if not for the Council’s intervention, and for that fact alone, he kept his mouth shut while the nurse did her job. After what seemed an eternity, the nurse finished and left the room, even offering Spike a brief smile. He hoped she stuck around a bit because she was one of the few Council employees who didn’t set him on edge.

It didn’t stop him from wanting to kick her bloody ass out of the door, however.

What a world he lived in now. “I can’t believe I’m hiding out in the bloody Council of Wankers,” he lamented when their privacy was once again granted.

Buffy nodded wearily. “Tell me about it. I can’t believe any of this happened.” Tears sprung to fill her eyes and she sniffed. “We almost didn’t’ make it out of there. I was really scared, Spike.”

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he had to fight his own emotions. The previous twenty-four hours had been some of the most terrifying of his entire existence and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. They still had a long way to go before their lives could get back to normal – or whatever was going to pass for normal in the future.

But at least they were no longer prisoners of the US military. Being in the Council headquarters was a step up, as far as Spike was concerned.

“Hey, is my mom here yet?”

“Dunno, pet. Nobody has said anything. Haven’t seen anybody but Peaches since we got here.”

“Could you go find out?”

Spike sighed heavily, not wanting to leave her side, much less wander around the enemy headquarters. But he could deny her little. “I’ll go see what I can suss out.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” She gave him a weary version of her usual perky grin.

“Want me to take the poppet?” He gestured to the sleeping baby in Buffy’s arms.

“No, I have her.”

“Right, then.” Spike reluctantly left her side and headed out the door. He sighed in frustration when he was met with empty hallways. “Bloody typical,” he muttered, picking a hallway and heading down it. The fact that there were no medical personnel in the immediate vicinity irritated him, not to mention the lack of any wankers of the watcherly persuasion. He had no idea how to find Buffy’s watcher or Angel, having refused to leave Buffy’s side since their arrival. He tried to listen for anything that would alert him that he was headed in the right direction but the acoustics were obviously special grade. It was almost eerily silent.

A series of doors lined the wide hallway he was striding down and he tried several of the doors. They were locked, which didn’t surprise him. His curious nature hated locked doors. What did come as a surprise was the lack of temptation to break the locks and see what the Council was hiding behind the heavy oak. Something he wouldn’t have hesitated to do before he met Buffy, being evil and all.

The girl had become his bloody conscience.

Shaking his head wryly, he continued on his way. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or insulted at the lack of humans in the general vicinity. At best, Spike would have expected a wanker or two standing guard, but for the moment, the area was conspicuously clear.

A muted wisp of female voices wafted towards him and Spike found himself tensing. Wandering through the bowels of the very establishment that made it their life’s work to destroy his kind wasn’t the brightest idea, a fact that he was well aware.

The voices grew louder and he was now able to suss out what was being said.

“I’m not going to sit there waiting anymore!”

“Well, I’m not one with the waiting either… But do you think we should be just… you know, wandering around?”

“What are they going to do, lock us in a room and not tell us anything? Oh wait, they already did.”

Rounding the corner, the two ladies were quick to notice the blonde vampire standing in the middle of the hallway and the rapid skyrocketing of their heart rates was clearly audible to his enhanced hearing. Identical jaws dropped as recognition came.

“Spike?”

tbc (and I mean it, seriously and truly.)





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