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Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a quick note cuz my internet has been going in and out all day. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, your support always makes me smile. Thank you to my beautiful beta Mari who went through this even when she wasn't feeling 100%. A big hug to you!
One Week Later….

Spike’s stomach made a horrible growling noise, waking Buffy who was sleeping restlessly beside him. Rubbing her eyes, she flexed her wrist carefully as she had every morning since she’d been put in the cell with the vampire. Today was the first day there was only a slight twinge of pain which caused her to smile. It was almost time.

The soldiers had been feeding her once daily while completely ignoring Spike. Sure, it hadn’t been great, but it had kept her strength up enough to start healing and gather her senses. The platinum blond had been her personal poison control, making sure the food wasn’t drugged. The gashes in her abdomen and wrists were still there though and infection hadn’t become an issue, yet. But without some proper medical care or food, the wounds were taking a long time to close properly and would most certainly scar.

She hadn’t let Spike know about the extent of her injuries not willing to admit that she was much weaker than normal. In the week that she had been locked up with the blond vampire they had been busy going through every possible alternatives to find a way out of the hell hole they found themselves in, but constantly came up short. Yesterday however there had finally been a breakthrough.

They had been able to gather some evidence towards Buffy’s computer chip theory as the week progressed. Forrest, the black soldier who loved torturing Buffy, was easy to provoke and had let it slip one day when he taunted Spike about being hungry.

“How does it feel to know you can’t eat what you want anymore, vampire?” Forrest sneered through the glass at Spike. “Once we know that thing in your head works as it should, it’ll be my pleasure to stake you myself.”

Forrest may have enjoyed taunting the vampire, but the information he’d let slip was priceless to the two super beings. Buffy had wanted to test the chip trying to coerce Spike into hitting her, but without a way of knowing when he would get any blood to repair any potential damage, he had refused.

While Buffy had been sleeping, Spike had overheard a conversation between the head commanding officer, Maggie Walsh, and another lab assistant. Apparently they hadn’t been prepared for dealing with Spike’s refusal to attack Buffy after being starved for a few days and were preparing to put them back into the gladiator-style fighting ring with threats of imminent death and torture to get the two blonds to comply. During their careful observations of the comings and goings, Buffy and Spike had established that there were a couple of corridors which would lead out. All they had to do was catch their captors off guard.

“Slayer?” Spike rolled towards her, voice scratchy from sleep and exhaustion. Buffy had been surprised by his incredible restraint during their captivity. Not once had he more than looked longingly at her neck, more out of respect for their awkward truce than fear of setting the chip off. She was starting to understand how he had survived to become the Master Vampire that he was. He certainly was a lot more patient than she had given him credit for initially.

“Yeah?” she inquired softly.

“Hand me that glass of water would you?” He was paler than she had ever seen him, his face sunken, obviously starving.

“Sure,” she said softly, reaching beside her for the glass and offering it to him. He drank greedily of the useless liquid that didn’t quench his true thirst.

“Thanks,” he said as he lay back down and closed his eyes. He was far from the powerful foe she remembered.

“I think they’re going to do it tomorrow night,” Buffy whispered, lying back down beside the vampire, speaking as quietly as she could, knowing he could hear her.

“Mmmm,” he murmured as a response. “I’m not sure if I’ll be of much help, pet. I’m weak as piss without any blood,” he admitted carefully, still wary of her in the same way that she was of him.

“I know,” she said, placing a small hand on his cheek, prompting him to open his dull blue eyes, all of the previous mischievous sparkle gone. “I think I have a plan.”

“Really?” Spike perked up a little, desperately clinging to what little optimism he had left.

“I can trust you, right?” Buffy started, not certain if it was a smart thing to do, but she was out of options. Seeing Spike nod weakly she continued, holding his gaze. “How much of my blood would you need to get out of here?”

“’S not possible, Slayer, you know I can’t bite you,” Spike grumbled, hope fading again within him.

“Just answer the question,” she whispered urgently. “How much?”

“A few mouthfuls at least,” Spike answered truthfully. “But the chip…”

“I know,” she hissed. “But if I cut my wrist open, you won’t be hurting me and you’ll have to stop before you take too much, or else the chip will kick in, won’t it?”

Spike’s eyes widened at her suggestion. “Maybe, pet. But I’m not sure I’m followin’ you. You want me to feed from you? I’m starvin’ here, pet, if the chip doesn’t kick in, I don’t know if I can stop.”

“If you want to get out of here, you will,” Buffy replied with a steely gaze. “Look, I know it’s stupid, reckless even, but what choice do we have? I’m not strong enough to carry you and I need you to get us both out of here. It’s the only way.”

“’S a bloody stupid idea, Buffy,” Spike grumbled, not quite willing to go along with the Slayer’s plan.

“Or brilliant. Think about it,” she whispered fiercely. “You take enough to get strong enough to get out, maybe fight a bit, then get me to Giles’ place and we’ll go from there. We have to do it tonight, Spike. There’s no more time.” Buffy was desperate now, she didn’t think there’d be a better opportunity to escape. Every great leader knew there would be sacrifices in lieu of victory.

Spike sighed and looked at her critically. He had to admit, they were out of viable options at this point. And with Slayer blood in him, he’d have an extra boost of strength if only for a little while. But even if they did get out, how was he to know that once, or if, they got to the Watcher’s place, the bloody Scoobies wouldn’t stake him on the spot.

“They won’t. I’ll be with you. I’m not turning my back on you now, Spike,” she whispered gently, as if reading his thoughts. They’d had a lot of time to just sit around and talk with each other over the past week and had come to grudgingly like each other in that time. Neither of them was well equipped to deal with boredom and add in a common enemy and the two got along quite well. He’d just have to trust her to uphold her end of the bargain once all of this was over.

“Alright, Buffy,” Spike replied, extending her the courtesy of using her given name. “Let me know how you plan to pull this off.”

Buffy’s face lit up with a breathtaking smile as she delved into the finer details of her plan as she related it to Spike. They would wait until nightfall and cuddle up in the corner of the room to hide their activities from the watchful commandos as Buffy fed Spike enough of her super-powered blood to get him up to snuff. Then, as they were set to be collected for the evening’s battle, they would lash out and run like hell. It was just crazy enough to work. The commandos wouldn’t expect Spike to be strong enough to put up a fight and Buffy had given little indication of what she was truly capable of. Powered up with slayer blood and adrenaline, he may be able to withstand the painful bursts from the chip for a few punches at least. Spike almost pitied the poor bastards for getting to deal with a brassed off slayer in all her might. As it was, he was evil and would savor every blow dealt by the slayer.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that night….

It was closing in on morning; Spike could sense it, even after all this time under fluorescent lights. Buffy was sleeping next to him, her face angelic in repose. Spike still couldn’t believe that she was willing to sacrifice so much for this plan, but he supposed that she was desperate. Trusting him to do the right thing was the only option she had left in the situation. It was certainly one of the last chances they would get to escape, and he didn’t want to spend another day down in this modern dungeon. He loathed waking her; she looked so peaceful sleeping trustingly beside him. He almost laughed out loud thinking of the expression on the Watcher’s face if he were able to see his slayer now, sleeping in the arms of the enemy.

“Buffy,” he reached over and shook her gently. The tin soldier outside was due for his quarter-hour pass in a couple of minutes and she needed to be awake for that.

“Sleepy,” Buffy mumbled, moving closer to him, snuggling into his side. Her warm body sent electrical tingles throughout his.

“Buffy,” Spike tried again, a little more forcefully.

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled, burying her head into his shoulder and slipping her arm around his waist. Spike had to take a deep calming breath as his exhausted body started to respond to the slayer’s unconscious affection. He didn’t want to think about how his chest felt a little tighter when he felt her sigh softly.

“Slayer,” he hissed. “Time to wake up, pet.”

“Spike?” Buffy mumbled, quickly realizing how intimately she was positioned. She looked up at his amused face, blushing slightly before pulling away.

“It’s time,” Spike said, listening intently for the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway, pausing in front of each of the containment cells. Buffy nodded, lying back down next to the vampire and joining him in feigned sleep.

The sounds of a soldier’s footsteps echoed in the hall and Buffy tried to slow her accelerated heart rate. Though she was anxious about the activity outside of the cell, it was what was about to happen in it that caused her the most distress. She was about to let Spike, Slayer of Slayers, have a taste of her. Something she had never imagined would happen. She had looked through all the possible options, but it all came down to needing Spike at his best. And if it took this sacrifice on her part to save them, then she would do so willingly. Besides, she’d done it before. Granted, that was to save Angel’s life, but this was to save her own.

As the footsteps retreated, Buffy pulled out the plastic fork she had saved from her last meal. She grimaced, knowing that what she was about to do was going to be not only painful, but also difficult and frankly disgusting. She felt Spike tense beside her and she could tell he was as nervous as she was about the next part of the plan. She didn’t know why, but she knew she could trust him. At least she hoped she could.

With a deep breath, she brought the fork down sharply into her uninjured wrist. She hissed in pain as the plastic tines broke her skin, and looked up to find Spike watching her intently. When the scent of her blood filled the air, his face shifted.

“Sorry, pet, too hungry to control it now,” Spike whispered as way of apology.

Buffy only nodded before twisting the fork slightly to open the small wounds more. Her blood flowed slowly from her wrist and she looked down to watch the dark drops slide slowly down her wrist.

“Don’t make me regret this, Spike. Please,” she whispered softly, raising her sparkling green eyes to meet his amber gaze.

“I promise I won’t, Buffy,” Spike murmured reverently, astonished that Buffy was actually going through with it. She searched his eyes with a small frown on her face before lifting her bleeding wrist to his lips.

He took hold of her small hand in his while holding her gaze. He lowered his mouth to her wrist, his mouth watering at the delicacy that awaited him. Fastening his lips around the small holes, he began to slowly suck the precious blood. Spike couldn’t help that his eyes rolled back in his head at the first taste of her blood. It was rich and full of power; a low growl broke from his chest as he swallowed the first mouthful of her coppery fluid.

Buffy had been bitten before. First by the Master, then Angel, and now Spike. All three were terrifying experiences, but each perfectly distinct and unlike each other. The Master’s bite was vicious and painful while Angel’s was driven by pure need. But Spike’s bite, though not much of a bite at all, was dripping in sensuality. Every nerve in her body was on fire as she felt him pull mouthfuls of her blood from her body. The slow heat that started burning at his first tentative licks built into a full blown inferno, spreading its tendrils throughout her body. She closed her eyes in pleasure as Spike fed from her, a wonderful pressure building within her and finally reaching a soft crescendo that left her breathless.

Spike monitored Buffy’s heartbeat as he slowly suckled at her wrist. After the first few mouthfuls he was only sipping, wanting to draw out the experience for as long as he could without hurting her or zapping too much of her strength. When her heart rate suddenly exploded in his ears he knew he’d thanked her as well as he could for her gift.

When Buffy opened her eyes to look down at Spike, she was surprised to be met by his familiar cerulean gaze. He had obviously stopped drinking and was lapping softly at her wrist, cleaning up the wound as best he could, not letting a single drop go to waste. The look in his eyes caused Buffy’s chest to constrict. Spike looked in awe of her, as if she was completely precious in that moment. She had no idea what to think of it all, but she knew she wouldn’t look at him quite the same way again.

“Thank you, pet,” Spike said gruffly before placing a soft kiss over the closed wounds on Buffy’s wrist.

“That was… wow,” Buffy said softly, still lightheaded from the experience. Spike chuckled, his chest vibrating against hers, only then realizing that she had moved flush against him. When she stiffened slightly, Spike laid an arm around her waist, silently asking her to stay close. Smiling up at him, she obliged.

“Yeah, pet, it was,” Spike looked down at Buffy affectionately. Something had changed between them. He didn’t know what that meant, but he’d worry about it after they found a way out. “Rest now, sweetheart. You’ll need to be in top shape for tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Buffy whispered before settling more comfortably against Spike. She had felt the shift between them as well, but the blood loss dulled the potential panic that would normally arise at that notion. For now she would sleep, they would need all their wits about them to ensure that the plan would work tomorrow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Ready, Slayer?” Spike whispered when they heard footsteps and muted voices coming down the hall. Spike and Buffy were lying close together on the floor fully alert and ready for the fight of their lives, or unlife in Spike’s case.

Buffy glanced over at Spike quickly to see him grinning back at her. Leave it to Spike to anticipate a fight he couldn’t even fully take part in. He was already looking much stronger, with some color back in his cheeks, however much a vamp could have to begin with. His eyes had gotten the mischievous sparkle back and his anticipation would have been infectious, if only she wasn’t so nervous.

The two blondes quickly appeared catatonic when the soldiers’ steps came closer. The voices died down to a quiet murmur, but Spike could clearly hear what they were saying. They wanted to isolate Buffy first, thinking she was the stronger of the two. Their fatal mistake was that they assumed she was weakened due to the sparse food they had allotted her. Spike knew Buffy wasn’t in top form, but her obvious rage at their captors would more than make up for her lacking strength.

“Wake up!” Maggie Walsh’s sharp voice pierced the hushed cell. “You will come willingly or we will take you by force. It’s your choice. However, I strongly suggest the former.”

Buffy made a show of being in pain, getting up slowly off the ground. She looked defiantly at Walsh before glancing at Spike who was also making a show of getting up. He was leaning heavily against the wall, apparently too weak to stand.

“Move,” Walsh directed both soldiers and prisoners alike. Buffy sent Spike a look and preceded him out of the cell. As soon as Spike had passed out of the cell, Buffy attacked. Maggie Walsh had not anticipated just how strong a slayer was. As Buffy launched an attack against the five soldiers that had been brought along to escort them to the fighting ring, Spike swiped an access card from a lab tech who was too shocked by the surprise attack to defend himself. Card in hand, Spike checked back on Buffy who had already disarmed three of the soldiers and incapacitated two of them.

“Slayer!” he called, moving toward the door, punching another soldier in the face, and clutching his head as the shock moved through his brain. “Let’s go, princess!”

Buffy quickly dealt with the remaining soldiers, Maggie Walsh having disappeared behind another door as soon as the attack had begun. She ran towards him, and Spike slid the card through the reader to open the back door, pushing all the buttons in desperation. The doors of the remaining containment cells suddenly slid open, angry, desperate demons launching themselves at the panicked soldiers.

The steel door slid shut behind Buffy before she could think about leaving their human captors at the hands of some of the more ferocious of the captured demons. Spike led the way through the maze like corridors, following his senses which were indicating the surface was near. He could hear a group of soldiers frantically chasing them and searched for a way out of the monitored corridors. It wouldn’t take them long to catch up.

“There! A vent, Slayer. I’ll give you a boost,” Spike called over his shoulder to Buffy who was desperately trying to keep up. He stopped directly under the vent and quickly lifted Buffy up to it as soon as she reached him.

A group of soldiers came barreling around the corner, hot on their heels. One stopped and took aim, firing a wooden cross-bow dart which landed with a dull thud in Spike’s midsection, puncturing a lung, but thankfully missing his heart. Buffy looked over at him, panicked, but Spike merely growled and boosted her into the vent above. Buffy pushed through the opening and crawled out of the way to let Spike jump and pull himself into it as well. Soon they were crawling through what appeared to be an air duct as quickly as they could.

Buffy could feel her various incisions and injuries that had yet to heal properly pull and rip open. She was exhausted and more than a little dizzy but pushed through the pain. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally found the exit of the air vent.

Spike placed a finger over his lips and shot Buffy a look, indicating that he was listening for any activity outside. He nodded to Buffy, indicating that it was quiet, but she pointed toward his chest where the cross-bow bolt was lodged. He looked down at it, knowing he should pull it all out, but they didn’t have time. Buffy took the decision out of his hands by snapping off a portion of the shaft, leaving the rest to poke through his back. They simply didn’t have time for more right now. When he seemed confident the coast was clear, he preceded her out.

“Where are we?” Spike asked, not familiar with his surroundings.

“At the university,” Buffy answered, taking in the familiar buildings. “We have to head east to get to Giles’.”

“Right,” Spike said, reaching for Buffy to pull her with him. “The faster we get out of here the better.”

“Yeah,” Buffy said with a pained note to her voice. She followed Spike’s lead, quietly and quickly making their way through the streets of Sunnydale.

The duo kept themselves hidden in the woods surrounding the campus for as much as possible. The route through the woods was physically harder than running through the streets, but it offered more protection, something they desperately needed. Ten minutes away from Giles’ apartment, Buffy stumbled, a sharp pain shooting through her side.

“Buffy?” Spike whirled around to check on her. Seeing her slumped over on the ground in obvious pain, he rushed to her side. He took in her ashen face and took a deep breath, the scent of slayer blood heavy in the air. She was hurt, and badly.

“Can you walk, pet?” Spike asked, pulling her to her feet. When Buffy groaned in answer, he leaned down and scooped her up into his arms, leaving her to direct him to her Watcher’s house. Their frantic pace was forced to slow as Spike carried the Slayer through the quiet streets. Buffy was weakening quickly, the last weeks finally taking their toll. From their conversations while locked away, Buffy had been imprisoned for about three weeks, though she was unsure seeing as she was unconscious for a large portions of time. He couldn’t imagine what would happen when they reached the Watcher’s house.

Fifteen minutes and two close calls later, Spike arrived at the small apartment complex carrying the nearly unconscious slayer. He could detect multiple heart beats inside and assumed the Scoobies were gathered. Hopefully they wouldn’t stake him as soon as they saw him with his precious burden. When Buffy moaned, Spike shook himself and knocked loudly on the door.

“We’re here, pet,” Spike said to Buffy as she moaned again and curled into his body somewhere in between consciousness. “Jus’ hold on a few more minutes, luv.”

“Spike?” Giles’ voice caused the vampire to look up sharply. The other man’s face paled as he recognized the young woman in his arms. “B-Buffy?” he gasped, too shocked to do more than stare at the odd duo.

“Spike?” Buffy’s voice came weakly from Spike’s shoulder. “Are we there yet?” He registered the heat coming off her body and realized that she must be feverish. The rush of adrenaline had worn off, leaving her body more broken than before.

“C’mon Watcher, are you just going to stand there, or invite us in?” Spike growled, concern for Buffy hardening his glare.

“I-I…” Giles’ started, but his own voice hardened and took on a deadly tone. “What have you done? If you’ve turned her, I swear to God you’ll wish she’d killed you…”

“I didn’t hurt a single one of her shampoo commercial hairs, Watcher,” Spike said, throwing a nervous glance over his shoulder. “But you need to invite us inside now. We’re bein’ followed.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Giles sneered. “And followed by whom?”

“Giles,” Buffy’s voice halted the Watcher before he could say anything further. She looked up at him with tired eyes. “He’s telling the truth. We need to go inside, now.”

“I’ll even set ‘er down an’ you can take her inside without invitin’ me in,” Spike grumbled, wanting to give her caretaker every ounce of proof he could offer. He gently set the girl down on her feet, but she only sagged against him. Reaching desperately for Giles, the older man quickly went to retrieve her. As soon as she was safely through the doorway, invitation-free, Buffy turned pleading eyes on her Watcher.

“Come in, Spike,” Giles uttered contemptuously, and Spike was quick to obey, entering the home and closing the door quickly behind him. Buffy was still slumped against her Watcher, face ashen with the effort the escape cost her. Spike made a move to approach her, but was immediately stopped by Giles.

“Don’t touch her,” Giles growled. “We haven’t seen her in three weeks and suddenly you turn up with my injured Slayer, practically begging me to let you in. You better have a good explanation, vampire.” Before Spike had a chance to reply there was a muffled cry from the entrance to the living room.

“B-Buffy?” Willow choked out when she saw her friend. She rushed over to her side immediately, hands nervously wringing when she saw the state Buffy was in. Her clothes were torn and tattered, her hair dull, and she looked impossibly thinner than last she’d seen her. Makeshift bandages littered her arms and when she finally raised her eyes to look at her friend, the usually sparkling hazel orbs were dull.

“What happened? Where were you? You’ve been gone for almost a month…” Willow started babbling which caused the other members of the Scooby gang present to filter into the small hallway. Xander looked as shocked as Giles had initially and Anya smiled brightly. None of the Scoobies had even noticed Spike’s presence yet, but as soon as Buffy moaned in pain, he used his vampiric speed to get to her side before anyone could object.

“Spike!” Xander yelped, noticing him for the first time, while pushing his girlfriend behind him. “Spike’s here!”

“Very observant, Whelp,” Spike ground out, lifting Buffy’s small frame into his arms and shooting Giles’ a quelling glare, before moving through the assembled group and into the living room so he could lay the Slayer down on the sofa. Before he could, he took note of the woman standing staring at him as if he were the Messiah himself.

“Spike?” Joyce Summers said carefully, gasping when she saw who he was carrying. “Buffy?”

“She’s alive, Mrs. Summers,” Spike quickly informed her. “But we’ve got to have a look at her injuries; she’s still bleedin’ badly from somewhere. She didn’t tell me how hurt she was before we escaped.”

“Escaped?” Joyce said, moving ever so slightly to allow Spike to settle Buffy on the sofa before kneeling down next to her daughter. “Where was she?”

“We were in some sort of government lab,” Spike muttered as he looked around for something sharp to cut off the red bandages that were once his shirt. “Can you ask the Watcher for his first aid kit? Buffy’s strong, but she needs seein’ to.” Spike’s worried blue eyes caught Joyce’s; he hoped she may still like him enough to stave off some of the coming storm for him.

“What is going on here, Giles?” Xander’s irritated voice cut in. “What are we doing allowing bleach boy here inside? And why is he even near Buffy and not dust yet?” Xander’s eyes flashed dangerously when Spike looked up to see where the protestations were coming from. Spike had to bite his tongue, literally, to keep from telling the boy exactly where he should go.

“Rupert, Buffy needs help,” Joyce looked sharply at the older man, who clearly was still in shock. “We need bandages, and anything else you have here.” When no one made a move, Joyce added more forcefully, “Now!”

“She probably needs somethin’ to eat too, Mrs. Summers,” Spike said as he began to unravel the bandage on her left forearm where the lab techs had cut her open from wrist to elbow to have a look at her bones. He couldn’t help the growl vibrating in his chest when he saw the angry red edges, indicating the reason for her fever and slipping into unconsciousness.

“I’ve told you to call me Joyce, Spike,” the older woman shot him a small smile, worry etched into her features as she took in the wound on her daughter’s arm.

“It’ll probably get worse, Joyce. What they did to her isn’t pretty,” Spike warned gently, holding Joyce’s worried gaze. He could see a flash of panic cross her features, and she opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Giles’ gasp.

“Who the HELL did this to her?” Giles roared, causing everyone save Spike to jump. He fixed Spike with an angry glare, daring him to try to tell him anything but the truth.

“I’m not sure,” Spike sighed, tired to the core after the adrenaline of the fight but still very wary of his safety in the lion’s den. “All I know is we were in some sort of military laboratory. Soldiers and doctors playin’ Doctor Frankenstein and cutting up demons. They didn’t believe Buffy when she told ‘em she was human. Tried pittin’ her against all sorts of demons, then they pitted ‘er against me.”

Giles stared intensely at him throughout the story. “And you’re saying you had nothing at all to do with her current injuries?”

“No, I didn’t. I couldn’t after I saw the sorry state the Slayer was in, and bein’ pitted against each other all gladiator-style didn’t appeal to either of us, so we decided we’d be better off tryin’ to find a way out of there together. We’d worked together before so it was jus’ a continuation of the truce really,” Spike quickly told the Watcher the rest of the story of their escape, including that they’d starved him to see if he’d give in and attack her, but withholding Buffy sharing her blood with him, knowing that would be a literal stake to the heart.

Joyce and Willow were busily patching up the exposed parts of Buffy, while Anya had gone off grudgingly into the kitchen to fetch something to eat for Buffy if she woke any time soon.

“S-So, it’s the same guys that we’ve been trying to find,” Willow broke the silence after Spike had finished his story. “The commandos? They’re doing Auschwitz-type experiments on demons?”

Spike looked over at the pretty redhead. Smart as a whip she was, and not one to deny information from the source. At least one thing seemed to be working in his favor: they had encountered the organization already.

“Yeah, Red, seems so,” Spike said, wearily seating himself in one of the recliners, he roared when the forgotten cross-bow bolt pushed further through his chest. Willow looked up quickly, and seeing the bloody wound she immediately went to his side, apparently forgetting the incident from the previous year.

“Spike, why didn’t you say anything?” Willow mumbled quietly, wary of touching him considering their history. When Spike paled, obviously in more pain than he let on, Willow steeled herself and set to direct the others.

“Xander, you and Anya go to the butcher’s and pick up some pig’s blood, and on the way stop in at the pharmacy and pick up more bandages. Giles, can you grab me some more towels in the meantime? Oh, and some brandy o-or scotch or something to help with the pain. I’ll call Tara and see if she’ll stop by the Magic Box and pick up a few ingredients for a simple healing spell.”

When she was met with a sea of dumbfounded faces, she quickly molded her features into her best ‘resolve-face’ which sent the ordered people scurrying to do what she asked. Joyce smiled over at her from where she was still attending to Buffy’s wellbeing, indicating that she agreed with Willow’s orders. Willow turned back to Spike and was amazed by his awe-struck look; he clearly hadn’t expected any kindness. She smiled reassuringly up at the powerful vampire, hoping she had made the right decision. Seeing his steely blue eyes soften, Willow knew that if Buffy trusted him, she could too.

“Alright, Spike,” Willow started softly. “This will hurt, but we have to get the arrow out.”

“S’okay, Red,” Spike mumbled, shrugging out of his long leather duster as Giles made his way back into the living room. The Watcher looked at him suspiciously, but seemed to acquiesce to the situation for the moment.

Giles wasn’t happy about having the vampire in his home, but they had Buffy back and alive, and that was all that really mattered. There seemed to be a common enemy now, one more dangerous than even Spike had been the previous years.

The time before Xander and Anya returned was spent aiding the two blonds as best as could be. Willow called her Wiccan friend who took note of what Willow needed and promised that she would be at Giles’ house as soon as she could. Joyce had procured a bathrobe from Giles and with Willow’s assistance, and the discretion of the two Brits in the room, the women had managed to get the tattered clothing off of the Slayer and the soft bathrobe onto her unconscious form. Giles had given Spike some of his secret stash of scotch before he extracted what was left of the crossbow bolt from his torso with the help of Willow. Xander and Anya came back just in time for Willow to dress the vampire’s wounds with fresh gauze.

Just as Willow was taping the last of the bandages down, there was a timid knock on the door. Anya answered it without fuss, and in walked a pretty blonde girl, who shyly smiled at the assembled group. Willow looked up from her work and smiled brilliantly.

“Tara,” Willow approached the woman, leaving Spike to settle back against the pillows. “Did you get everything?”

“Y-yes, t-they had e-e-everything,” Tara stammered, blushing. Spike watched her from his seat, noting the calming aura which seemed to surround her. When the witch looked up and caught his gaze he was impressed to see her smile softly at him.

“Tara,” Willow began, leading her toward the sofa where Buffy still lay unconscious. “This is Buffy, but she, uh, can’t really talk right now, but, well, there she is. And this is Spike. He’s um, well he brought Buffy here,” Willow pointed toward the vampire and busied herself setting up her supplies.

“’S a pleasure, pet,” Spike acknowledged, causing the witch’s cheeks to redden again, but she didn’t look away.

“H-hi,” Tara stammered. “Did you want me to start on the salve, and you can put the spell together?” Tara asked Willow, who nodded in response.

While the witches set about getting the healing implements in order, Giles checked on his slayer. Joyce quickly took command of the kitchen preparing hot chocolate and tea for all gathered, seeming familiar with the routine. She also prepared a mug of blood for Spike, who downed it in long gulps, accepting a second and third without stopping. It felt wonderful to be full for the first time in weeks. Spike watched the group carefully, as he sipped on his third mug of blood.

“Is h-he a v-vampire?” Tara had asked Willow softly when she saw Joyce bring him a third mug of blood. Spike flashed her a toothy grin while Willow assured her that he wouldn’t bite. Spike wasn’t sure Red believed that, but she was willing to say it to reassure the young witch.

The whelp’s girl, Anya, seemed bored by the happenings around her and didn’t seem bothered by his presence at all. The boy kept a protective arm around her while shooting suspicious glances at Spike at regular intervals. He had also made sure to keep a stake in plain sight at all times. Rupert and Joyce occupied themselves by checking on Buffy while Red and her friend worked the mojo. Spike mulled a little over the presence of the second witch, remembering the wolf from a year ago when he had kidnapped Buffy’s friends. Maybe she had moved on to greener pastures.

“Okay,” Willow said, drawing attention to her activities. “The spell is ready to go, and Tara’s finished with the salve for her deeper cuts. I’m not sure if she’ll wake up right away, but it shouldn’t take long.” She drifted off before starting a short incantation. There was a shimmering golden light which entered Buffy’s body, infusing her limbs in healing light. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as Buffy moaned softly, stirring under the comforter she was wrapped in.

“Buffy, honey?” Joyce said softly, holding her daughter’s hand.

“Mom?” Buffy mumbled, squinting up at her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Joyce smiled down at her before turning a watery smile on Giles. “You’re home safe. Well, at Mr. Giles’ house, but safe.”

“Is Spike here?” the Slayer asked, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Yes, he is honey,” Joyce replied quickly. “Willow patched him up and he’s resting here, too.” She said, moving slightly so Buffy could see him perched in the chair. Buffy looked over at Spike with a soft expression he couldn’t read.

“Thank you, Spike,” Buffy said softly, smiling genuinely at him before turning her focus to her watcher. “Did he fill you in on where we’ve been?”

“Yes, Buffy, indeed he has,” Giles’ said, smiling down at her in relief. “Some sort of military experimental laboratory?”

“Yeah,” Buffy sighed, looking around the room and seeing the assembled group. “Wills! Xan!” She smiled widely at her best friends.

“Oh, Buffy! We’re so happy you’re okay… and that you’re here,” Willow said, tears shining in her eyes as she leaned down next to her friend to pull her into a gentle hug.

“Yeah, Buffster, we were starting to think we’d never see you again,” Xander quipped before also leaning in for a quick hug, careful not to embrace his friend for too long for fear of Anya’s jealousy.

“Hi, Buffy. We’re happy you’re not dead. Now hopefully Xander will give me lots of satisfying orgasms tonight instead of worrying over you,” Anya quipped in her usual way, looking over Xander’s shoulder.

Buffy hadn’t known that Xander had started a relationship with the former demon, but it appeared they had gotten closer during her time away. Buffy looked around the room again, noticing for the first time the new girl sitting close to Willow. She smiled over at the new girl, who returned her smile shyly.

“Buffy, this is my friend Tara,” Willow said with a beaming smile at the girl. Spike quirked a scarred brow, unnoticed by anyone else, as he saw more than friendly vibes floating between the young witches. But he kept quiet, knowing Buffy didn’t need any more shocks tonight.

Joyce and Giles moved away from the younger trio, letting the best friends talk quietly amongst themselves, assuring each other of their wellbeing. Buffy looked tired, but managed to eat the food prepared for her and indulge in a mug of her mother’s famous hot chocolate.

It was decided that the group should get some rest, splitting up until the following morning for some much needed rest. Joyce offered the Summers’ home to Spike and designated it meeting central the following day. Giles immediately questioned her invitation to Spike, but Joyce stood firm, insisting that he had brought Buffy home and deserved a safe place to stay as long as he needed. Giles insisted, as Joyce knew he would, that he should come along to keep Spike in line. The small group packed the injured parties into the back of Joyce’s Jeep, leaving Giles to sit in the front seat, leaving his car at home to not draw suspicion in case there had been any form of surveillance on Buffy’s friends.


Chapter End Notes:
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