Chapter Eleven:
Buffy stirred slowly in the luxurious bed she found herself in. The realization that she was not sleeping in her own bedroom hit as soon as she cracked her tired eyes open. She looked quickly around the unfamiliar room but relaxed as the memories of the previous day came flooding back to her, filling in the gaps sleep had left behind. She sighed and stretched before reluctantly getting out of bed. She had no idea what time it was, but she assumed it must be around mid-day. No matter how late she stayed out slaying, she was always up by noon, even if her body protested every inch of the way.
Buffy stripped off the shorts she had worn to bed, slipping into a comfortable pair of jeans instead. After changing her shirt, she gathered her toiletries and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. She noticed that Spike’s door was still firmly closed, not unusual however seeing as this was his usual sleep schedule.
After freshening up, Buffy made her way into the main rooms of the house. The kitchen had been stocked at the same time as the house had been cleaned she noticed as she pulled open the door of a brand new refrigerator. How that had gotten there in only a few hours she couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Finding some low fat yogurt and muesli, the Slayer headed in to the living room to indulge in her breakfast. When she settled on the sofa she recalled her breakdown with Spike the night before.
Buffy had no idea what specifically triggered the breakdown, she never normally cried in front of anyone. She was, as always, the stony rock of the group. No tears, no panicked confessions. But she had certainly gone against that last night. It wasn’t seeing the incision, though it was quite horrifying to look at. There must have been something about the way Spike behaved around her. Like it was okay to just let everything go, if only for a moment.
There had been times when she cried at the Initiative as well. She had always waited until she knew that Spike was asleep, or she was as sure as you could be with a living corpse. But sometimes when she’d laid curled up in his duster beside him on the cold tile floor, she’d felt his arm go around her. A silent reassurance that she was alright and that she wasn’t alone. Buffy wasn’t sure she would have made it out of that place if it hadn’t been for the vampire. That thought in itself was terrifying. She couldn’t rely on her enemy to save her, she couldn’t be indebted to him.
But she was, and Spike hadn’t said a word about it yet. He hadn’t held it over her, and she had assumed that it was because he was as thankful to her. That he wouldn’t have made it out on his own. But if Buffy looked deep within herself she knew that wasn’t true. Spike would have found a way out of that hell hole even if he was alone. And he would have come to her for help. The Spike she knew now was nothing like she had ever expected to find.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When her mother and Giles arrived mid afternoon, Buffy had managed to take stock of most of the food and supplies the Scoobies now had available to them. There was enough fresh and canned food to keep them happy for at least a few weeks, and a large supply of animal blood for Spike in both the freezer and refrigerator. She had no idea who had arranged for that, but she was thankful.
“Sweetheart,” Joyce exclaimed immediately when she saw her daughter, closing the distance quickly to embrace her only child. It was a novelty just to see her standing before her, let alone healthy and well after so many weeks without her. A mother had to take any opportunity that presented itself.
“Hi, Mom,” Buffy returned her mother’s hug happily. “Giles,” she said, acknowledging the appearance of her Watcher, arms full of boxes of books.
“Buffy,” Giles greeted with a wide grin. “Would you mind terribly?” he asked, pointing his chin in the direction of the hallway.
“Nope, not at all,” Buffy said and quickly collected the remaining bags and books from the front hall. She showed her mother and Giles to the rooms that had been assigned to them upstairs and had to smile at her mother’s awed reaction. No one had known what a treasure this house was.
“I never expected…” Joyce trailed off as she set her bag down by her feet.
“I know,” Buffy sighed. “No one knew.” She added with a shrug before making her way back downstairs to the kitchen while the two got properly settled.
“’Lo, Slayer,” Spike’s deep voice came rumbling from behind her while she set about preparing the kettle as per Giles’ request. She turned to look over her shoulder and was floored to see Spike look like he just got out of bed. Which, duh, he just had, she chastised herself. He wore his usual black t-shirt and jeans but had left his feet bare and his usually slicked back locks were a rumpled mess on his head. She found herself staring at how incredibly delicious he looked.
“Got any blood?” he asked, oblivious to her revelation. He padded slowly into the kitchen, still shaking off the last of the cobwebs from sleep. Yawning, he stretched his clasped hands above his head, revealing a perfectly toned strip of pale flesh over his abdomen. Before Buffy had a chance to reply Joyce came bustling in.
“Oh, Spike, you’re here,” she said with a wide grin, looking like she wanted to smother him with affection. She had naturally headed up his new fan club and accredited him for getting her daughter back home safely. Joyce hesitated for a second before throwing caution to the wind and winding her arms around him in a fierce hug.
Spike met Buffy’s eyes over Joyce’s shoulder before tentatively returning the affectionate gesture.
“I’m sorry,” Joyce said a little flustered. “I just can’t thank you enough. Has Buffy shown you where your blood is?” Joyce made her way over to the fridge, the comment falling naturally from her as if blood was a staple food group in every all American home.
“She was jus’ about to,” Spike replied, smiling softly over at the still stunned Slayer. “Slayer wanted to get the kettle goin’ for you first. Jus’ rolled out of bed myself.”
“Oh dear, well I’ll finish up here if you kids want to go sit down. I know Rupert wants to discuss some things with you right away.” She shooed her daughter and the one hundred and forty plus year old ‘kid’ out of the kitchen.
“Spike isn’t really a kid anymore, Mom,” Buffy couldn’t help but playfully point out. Joyce shot her a disapproving look.
“I know, dear, but he looks like one,” she said glancing at the vampire.
“And acts like one, too,” Buffy added smugly, grinning at her former enemy. Spike morphed into full game face at her and snarled. When Buffy merely raised an eyebrow at the display he quickly returned to his human features and pouted.
“A child, indeed,” Joyce said quietly before resuming her kitchen duties.
“C’mon, Slayer,” Spike tried, sounding petulant. “You’re not even a bit scared?”
Buffy shook her head and smiled. “You didn’t scare me before.”
“Did, too,” Spike grumbled while trying to hide a grin.
“Did not,” Buffy said before flouncing into the soft cushions of the sofa.
“Could still tear you lot limb from limb if I wanted,” the vampire groused, sitting down at the other end of the long black leather couch.
“Sure you could,” Buffy replied patronizingly, sounding unconvinced. She opened her mouth to retaliate with some witty retort, but before she had a chance Giles walked in to the kitchen area.
“Ah, Spike,” he acknowledged the vampire warily. “I see you’re awake.”
“Sleep schedule’s still off after all that time underground,” Spike explained, smiling up at Joyce as she handed him a warm mug filled with blood.
“Ah, yes,” Giles muttered, picking up the tea tray before Joyce had a chance to return for it herself. He proceeded to pour tea for the four assembled, assuming even Spike would appreciate a good cuppa. He was English after all.
“So, Mom said you wanted to talk to us?” Buffy asked casually, heaping several spoonfuls of sugar into the steaming liquid much to the others’ disgust.
“Buffy, do you really need to…” Giles trailed off, waving a hand in the direction of her mug.
“What?” she asked, dumbfounded. “It’s all bitter and it’s not like I don’t burn the calories with the nightly slayage of evil.”
“But five spoonfuls?” Giles muttered, more to himself than for the benefit of the others. But Spike’s low chuckle and Buffy’s subsequent ‘Hey!’ indicated that at least someone had overheard.
“Sorry, Slayer,” Spike said, eyes alight with laughter. “But no proper lady would saturate a good cup of England’s finest with that much sugar.”
Buffy glared at the vampire who seemed too happily at ease while in the same room as the Slayer if you asked her humble opinion. When Spike just continued to grin and even wink at her, Buffy quickly returned her attention to her watcher.
“So, what’s the what?” she asked, sipping delicately at the sweet liquid.
“What’s what?” Giles said quietly before quickly catching on. Apparently being out of Buffy’s company for a few weeks had dulled his understanding of her way of speaking. “Oh, well, the first order of business is that I purchased some of these disposable mobile phones for us all. They should be quite untraceable, or so Willow assured me.”
Giles rose from his seat on the sofa and went to retrieve the boxed cell phones from a bag he’d left in the corner of the room. Buffy immediately ripped open one of the boxes and started fiddling with it to put it all together.
“We’ll need to charge them all as soon as possible,” she said after assembling the first of the phones. “Great idea, Giles.”
“Ah, well, it was mostly Xander and Willow’s idea. Xander suggested he’d seen it in a movie somewhere and Willow confirmed that using the prepaid phones would allow us to remain anonymous.”
“Good,” Buffy replied, smiling at her watcher. At least they had communications covered. It could come in handy. Seeing Giles fidgeting she looked back over at him. “And?”
“Well, Buffy, I thought perhaps it would be a good idea, since we are staying here and all that,” he stammered, plucking his glasses off the tip of his nose and polishing them furiously. “To to get in touch with Angel and let him know we’ll be making use of this place.”
Buffy looked down at the phone she still had in her hands as if it would start working immediately and she would have to face calling her ex right away. She hadn’t called him since she had come home, and she assumed that Giles or someone had told him about her disappearance. Though he wasn’t around when she and Spike came to Giles’ so maybe he didn’t know yet.
“We told him a-about your disappearance,” Giles said, answering her unasked question. “He came, but had to go back to Los Angeles after his associates called. But I can’t say he put in much effort.”
“Really?” Buffy asked in an emotionless tone, still staring at the phone in her hands.
“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Giles said, not explaining further, but there wasn’t much to tell. The souled vampire had come to town and stayed three days prattling on about having heard about Buffy being in grave danger, but not that she had disappeared. Then after a few days of idle waiting he had returned home, claiming to have some important business to attend to. Still, it would be impolite not to inform him that they were squatting in his home. Worse still, if he were to come back and find all the Scoobies and Spike hidden away in the mansion.
“That’s okay, Giles,” Buffy said, finally meeting his eyes. “He’s not the type to stick around. But I suppose I should call him. Let him know we’re here.”
“You gonna tell him ‘bout me, pet?” Spike asked, expression carefully guarded.
Buffy looked over at him, wondering what the right course of action would be. On the one hand, Angel should know that Spike was there. But on the other hand it may cause him to come running to Sunnydale and causing all sorts of problems by lording his ideas over everyone. Buffy shook her head. When had she started thinking of her former love as overbearing and out to cause bigger problems than he’d solve?
“I don’t think so,” Buffy answered quickly, realizing she had been quiet for too long. “He’d just come running here and we don’t need to worry about him on top of everything else.”
Spike tilted his head and studied the Slayer carefully. It wasn’t the answer he’d expected, though he knew she would keep his presence secret from his grandsire. But she genuinely seemed to want to avoid having him come here with guns blazing. Interesting.
“Are you sure that is wise, Buffy?” Giles asked, agreeing with her opinion, but was curious as to why she’d issued it. Either his slayer had grown up, or maybe there was a new influence in her life.
“Yeah,” she said, glancing between the two men who both obviously disliked Angel and generally had no qualms about showing it. “I’m sure. I’ll call him, tell him I was stuck in an alternate dimension or something. That can happen right?”
“According to some theories, yes,” Giles replied.
“A resoundin’ yes, luv,” Spike said, relaxing back into the sofa again. “Where do you think some demons come from?”
“So there really are alternate dimensions?” Buffy asked, amazed.
“Sure, some are even considered to be great vacation spots,” Spike confirmed. “Places even vamps can go an’ get a tan where the sun won’ kill us.”
“Are you quite serious?” Giles asked, taking a notebook and pen out from his pocket. It seemed Spike could prove to be an interesting resource, after all.
“’f course,” Spike rolled his eyes impatiently. “Where do you think vengeance demons hold court or take time off? Not everything revolves around this world, Rupes.”
“Vengeance demons?” Giles scribbled furiously. “That would mean that Anya could have further information about these alternate dimensions.”
“I guess,” Buffy replied, watching Giles scribble down pages of notes. “And she’s like a thousand years old or something.”
“Looks like you finally got a good source of information then,” Spike said, fishing his lighter out of his pocket, quickly growing impatient at the current idle state.
“W-why yes,” Giles looked up from his notepad. “Why haven’t we asked her before?”
“Because you refuse to see what’s right in front of you?” Joyce decided to make her opinion known. “The few times that I spoke to her she seemed to be an incredibly intelligent and well read woman. You just haven’t even given her the chance to speak yet.”
Giles looked down, flushing slightly and feeling thoroughly chastised. Buffy couldn’t help but smile at her mother while Spike openly laughed at the watcher.
“Well, lets get these phones set up and charged,” Buffy said, tossing an unopened box at Spike and handing one to Giles. There were ten in all, so she chose to set three up in working condition seeing as it would only be the four of them for the next couple of nights and it would be better to save some in case the others got discovered, lost or damaged.
“Wanna spar, pet?” Spike looked over at Buffy as soon as she had plugged the last charger into the wall. He was as restless as she was and it would be good to blow off some steam since there wasn’t much else that they could do for the time being. Giles was busy researching with some help from Joyce who was otherwise occupied with organizing and planning the kitchen and the meals for when the house would be full.
~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~
Meanwhile… back at the Initiative….
Maggie Walsh was furious. They had been looking non-stop for the two escapees for the last three days. It seemed that Buffy Summers had at least gotten in touch with her mother since she mysteriously left on a last minute art shopping spree in Europe for her gallery. Plausible, sure, but the timing was a little too convenient. The older British gentleman who often visited Mrs. Summers had also decided that a trip to the homeland was in order at the same time. Though Maggie had yet to understand what connection the older man had with the Summers’ women, he seemed to be deeply engrained in their lives and warranted a closer look.
“Agent Finn!” the petite professor barked out across the sterile lab.
“Yes, ma’m.” Riley Finn stood at attention awaiting the harsh words that were surely in store for him and his troops seeing as they had nothing to show for their long hours of searching.
“What is the current situation?” Maggie asked, looking over the files on display on multiple computer monitors.
“No success as of yet, Professor Walsh,” Riley stated, eyes staring pointedly at the picture of Buffy on the screen.
“I need more detail, agent,” the woman seethed, demonstrating her obvious frustration at the situation.
“The last sighting of Mrs. Summers was as she left in a cab earlier this morning, which surveillance followed to LAX and watched the target enter the terminal. She met with Mr. Giles, also known as Target B, and they proceeded to check in and enter the departure terminal together at eleven hundred hours. Continual surveillance of Ms. Rosenberg is being conducted, though her routine remains consistent within the school. She may have developed a more intimate relationship with the female target identified yesterday as Tara McClay. They remain in contact often, but stay in the school grounds for most of the day. As for the reconnaissance on Hostile 17, all sweeps of local cemeteries and common hostile locations have proved fruitless.” Riley concluded his report knowing that Maggie would not be happy.
“Is that all, Finn?” Maggie asked, narrowing her eyes at the young soldier.
“Yes, ma’m,” the agent acknowledged with a quick nod.
“Well, step up surveillance and get Forrest to get in touch with other factions of our agency overseas to see if we can pick up surveillance on Mrs. Summers and Mr. Giles. I fear that though we believed that there may have been a personal relationship between the escaped hostiles, they may have split up in order to save themselves. No honor among thieves as they say,” she quickly entered some new information into the dossiers of the escapees. “Perhaps we should widen the search radius in order to increase our chances of finding Hostile 17. He must be having difficulty finding something to feed on at this time. He won’t go far without sustenance.”
“Yes, ma’m. I will discuss the situation with Forrest immediately. Is that all?” Riley asked respectfully.
“Yes, agent, you may go,” Maggie dismissed him and Riley quickly made his way out of the lab in search of his teammate.
Riley was secretly relieved they had yet to find any trace of Buffy. He wouldn’t mind getting his hands on Hostile 17, that was a true monster, but he still could not believe that Buffy was anything evil. He was finding himself doubting Walsh more and more in the obsessive search for Buffy. Hostile 17 had a valuable piece of equipment lodged in his brain so the search for it was justified. Once they had the chip back and could confirm its function, then they could dispose of the creature and begin the next phase in the implant plans. If the hostile had escaped the confines of Sunnydale however, the search would become even more problematic.
Riley shook his head to clear it from the treasonous thoughts. It was better to just follow the orders set out for him and see if he could do something to help convince Buffy once she was recaptured. Perhaps he could convince her to admit she was a good demon, maybe then Maggie would see reason and let her help the Initiative capture more hostiles. With the combat skills she had demonstrated during her captivity she would certainly be an asset, even if they had to find some measures to control some of her more unruly behavior. Riley Finn knew that he had to trust in his job and country that he was doing the right thing.
TBC…
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks all of you who reviewed last chapter :) It makes my day that there are still people reading and waiting for updates on my little fic. Well thank you as always to my wonderful beta Mari for fixing my mistakes and to the lovely Vette Hayden for this pretty pretty banner. *smooches* to all, let me know what you think!