The next morning…
Buffy sighed as she felt consciousness pulling at her. She felt disoriented, immediately wondering why she was warm and in a soft bed when she was used to waking up on a cold tile floor next to a sleeping vampire. When she opened her eyes and saw the familiar surroundings, she smiled widely and clutched Mr. Gordo to her chest. She took some time to luxuriate in her warm comforter and the sounds and smells of home before getting up.
Buffy reflected on the events of the previous evening. She had been unconscious or just about for most of it, but it seemed that Spike had informed everyone about what had happened. Beyond impressed at the vampire’s agreeableness, Buffy hoped that the fragile trust that had blossomed between them would hold. Spike would need more help from her in the future to deal with the burden of the chip.
Not that Buffy was too disappointed by the turn of events; the chip would go a long way in convincing the gang to trust him, but she couldn’t help the sympathy tugging in her gut that he’d been brought down by something that small. As a vampire he was a formidable opponent, both cunning and strong, and they had yet to test the restrictions of the chip beyond the events in the lab.
Though she had been preoccupied with their escape at the time, it seemed that Spike had still suffered strong electric shocks when he hit the soldiers. He had recovered from them faster than usual, but that could have been due to necessity to complete the escape or even her own potent blood healing him faster than normal. The bleached vamp had always insinuated how powerful Slayer blood was to a vampire, beyond the aphrodisiac effect Spike always emphasized during their fights.
Buffy yawned and stretched carefully, wary of the various wounds that had opened up during the great escape. She made her way quietly to the bathroom, turned the shower to hot and luxuriated under the soothing water. Just being able to have a proper shower was pure bliss, even with the stinging pain of the water as it sluiced over her wounds.
Stepping out of the shower, Buffy dried off and made her way to her bedroom. She opened her closet door to reveal her floor length mirror and looked at her reflection properly for the first time in weeks. Her hair was darker; the expertly dyed honey blonde highlights looking less than natural against her natural shade. Though it was still wet, small beads of water dripping from split ends, Buffy knew her hair was a mess.
Her face looked thinner than normal, her skin pale from lack of sun after spending weeks underground. The sparkling green eyes she was so used to seeing looking back at her were sunken into her face and had lost that innocent shine they’d had before. Buffy was startled to realize she looked older, not physically per se, but in the same way that the children you see on television in the news from war stricken countries did. They had that haunted look in their eyes that said they had seen too much to remain blissfully ignorant of the world. Taking a calming breath, Buffy let her towel drop to the floor, leaving herself naked and exposed for the first time.
Buffy saw immediately that she had lost a lot of weight, her ribs standing more prominently out against her paler-than-normal skin. She had various bruises all over her body, some from spending endless nights sleeping on a hard floor, some from the fight with the commandos. But the series of surgical wounds that littered her small frame were the more shocking. She had seen the cut they’d made from elbow to wrist, which was healing nicely after a night of true rest and Willow’s healing spell, but the gashes over her body stunned her.
There were burn marks on her legs from where the lab techs had tested her skin flammableness, cuts marring her ribs where they had checked her bone structure and further holes from different needles where she had been injected with various things. Lastly, there were a series of cuts over the flat planes of her stomach that made Buffy shudder imagining what they could have done to her.
Dashing away tears that she hadn’t noticed were falling from her eyes with her hands, she prayed that her healing would kick in soon. Quickly retrieving the spare medical kit from the bathroom she hurriedly re-dressed the wounds which seemed in most need of it. Dressing quickly, eyes averted from the mirror, Buffy made her way downstairs to the kitchen.
~*~*~*~*~*~
“Good morning, honey,” Joyce went over to embrace her daughter as soon as she walked in. “How did you sleep?”
“Like the dead,” Buffy replied, smiling to herself even though Spike wasn’t there to share the joke with her. “It was heaven waking up in a bed after sleeping in the lab’s floor for so long.”
“Well, have a seat, I’ll get some breakfast together for you,” Joyce indicated the stool next to Giles.
“Morning, Giles,” Buffy smiled softly at her Watcher who was still acting like he hadn’t expected to ever see her again.
“Good morning, Buffy,” Giles replied, shaking off the wonder filled gaze. “I hope you are feeling better this morning. Tara and Willow assured me that the salve and healing spell would get you back on your feet quicker than normal.”
“Well I’m all energized after that super-sleep,” Buffy replied, gulping down the glass of juice her mother set before her. “And it doesn’t really hurt anymore, but I’m still not one hundred percent. Though with the searing rage, I think I’ll be ready to take down a top-secret government Frankenstein facility in a day or two.”
Giles smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure that may be so, Buffy. However, I believe we have to exercise some caution in the matter. If they were able to bring both you and Spike down without trouble, along with many other dangerous demons species I assume, we may have to plan a great deal.”
“Yeah, and there’s something that Spike and I have to talk to you about as well,” Buffy said carefully as she dug into the big plate of eggs her mother had placed before her. “But I need to talk it through with him first.”
Giles frowned at her, about to argue, but stopped himself and changed tactics.
“Alright, if you think that’s best, I’ll go along with it.” Giles said carefully. “That’s not to say that I trust Spike at all, and I need to insist on being further informed about this deal that you’ve made.”
“’S prob’ly the smart thing to do, Watcher,” Spike’s voice carried into the kitchen, causing the three occupants to turn toward the entrance to the basement.
“Spike,” Buffy greeted with a soft smile. “I didn’t think we’d see you until this afternoon.”
Spike ambled further into the kitchen, avoiding the sunlit windows while keeping himself between Joyce and Buffy. Best to avoid the Watcher for the time being. Joyce smiled at him and set about preparing some blood for breakfast.
“Yeah, well, your little friends’ll be comin’ soon an’ I don’ want to be left out of all the fun,” he replied with a cheeky smile. “’Sides we gotta have us a chat before they get here, Slayer.”
Buffy’s smile faltered with the serious implication of the statement and nodded in reply before tucking into the feast her mom had prepared for breakfast.
Giles wisely remained silent through the meal, curious beyond telling about what had transpired, but realizing Buffy needed a break. She had color back in her cheeks this morning and after her shower looked more like her old self than the fragile young girl he had treated last night, but that didn’t mean she was out of the woods just yet.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After breakfast, Buffy followed Spike into the basement to allow some privacy for their chat.
“So,” Buff said, unsure of where to begin. Being safe, relatively, in her own house with Spike after all that had happened the last few weeks felt almost awkward.
“You want me to tell them about my chip.” It wasn’t a question, Spike knew he’d have to, but he held Buffy’s eyes in an attempt to elude being involved in the decision.
“Well, I think we have to,” Buffy replied carefully, walking around the basement, eyeing the cot where he slept last night before settling on perching on the laundry machine.
“I suppose,” Spike mused, taking a seat on the cot Buffy had avoided.
“We have to tell them, Spike. Any plans we make have to take into account that you can’t hit people. And we don’t even know what the chip is capable of yet,” Buffy replied.
Spike immediately picked up on two things: Buffy hadn’t mentioned that he might try to hurt her mates and she’d already included him in the plans to bring down the organization. Interesting, very interesting.
“How d’ya know I want any part in your plans, Slayer?” he asked with narrowed eyes. “I could take off; find my own ways to get this soddin’ thing out of my brain.”
Buffy quirked a brow, unable to hide her amusement. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to get back at the people who put the chip in your head, tortured you, starved you, and conducted sadistic experiments on you?”
Spike shrugged, knowing it was useless. “No, I didn’t say that…”
“You want to concoct your own plan to bring them down, then?” Buffy smiled softly at the vampire, taking the sting out of her next words. “Because we both know how well your plans tend to work out, Mr. I-can’t-wait-until-Saturday-to-kill-you.”
Spike grinned at the Slayer. She was slowly returning back to her old self. He shook his head, foregoing an answer. He desperately wanted a cigarette, but he’d smoked the only pack he had at the lab and they came directly from the Watcher’s house to Chez Summers last night.
“Good, then you’re with us,” Buffy said, hopping down from her perch and walking toward him. “We’ll just have to figure out how this chip works. Willow may be able to help.”
“No magicks, Slayer,” Spike said immediately. “Don’ trust ‘em.”
“I was thinking more computer stuff,” Buffy replied. She stopped when she stood right in front of him.
“But we should probably test it first,” she said, frowning in concentration.
“Test it? ‘M not hittin’ you, Slayer. Not in the mood for a migraine.” Spike replied, standing to face her. He wasn’t sure he was happy with where she was going with this.
“Fine, then pinch me,” she smiled brightly, holding out her un-injured arm expectantly.
“Pinch you? What are you, five?” Spike snarked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I could punch you in the nose if you need motivation,” Buffy smiled, her tone syrupy-sweet. She batted her eyelashes for good measure, and then pouted when Spike failed to do as she asked immediately.
“Whatever you say, princess,” Spike sighed and pinched Buffy’s upper arm hard.
“Ow! That hurt you dummy!” Buffy squealed in true five-year-old fashion.
“Soddin’ hell,” Spike mumbled, feeling the electrical pulse through his brain, not as strong as when he punched the soldier, but a definite shock.
“Okay, so it works then,” Buffy supplied rubbing her sore arm. Spike glared menacingly at her, baring his human teeth in a mock growl.
“Yes, I’d say it bloody well works,” Spike replied, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“When you’re trying to hurt me,” Buffy mused, looking up at him. “What if you’re not trying to? Like sparring?”
“You’re awfully level-headed an’ clinical about this, pet,” he said frowning. “I didn’t have you pegged as the scholarly type.”
“Hey!” Buffy cried indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I may have only been to a few intro psych lectures, but I know we have to test more than one theory. That was lecture two in fact, Experimental Procedures.”
“Right then,” Spike said with a smirk, secretly amused at her thorough test. “Want me to pretend to hit you knowin’ I’m not gonna hurt ya?”
Buffy nodded and Spike clenched his fist as if preparing to punch her. He brought his arm back and aimed straight at her face, stopping a millimeter from her nose. No pain. He tried a few more times, even ending in a light tap to her shoulder. Still no pain.
“Great!” Buffy smiled jubilantly. “It seems to work on intent then,” she said with smug pride at her incredible test assessment and deductive reasoning. No stupid vampire was going to call her un-scholarly. She totally rocked the academics.
Spike chuckled at her obvious delight at the success of the test. He wasn’t sure what it meant for him, but as long as he was putting all his eggs in Buffy’s basket, he’d trust her on this one. Besides, she was very cute when she was proud of herself.
“At least we know we can probably spar,” she said as she walked toward the stairs. “I’ve always liked fighting you. Let’s go tell Giles. He’ll wear out a whole notebook with this one, I think.”
She liked fighting him? Spike couldn’t help the indulgent smile that lit his features as he followed the Slayer up the steps. At least one thing seemed to be going his way after all. And watching the previously mentioned Slayer’s ass as she walked up the stairs ahead of him was certainly worth staying around for.
TBC...
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to review the last chapter! You guys really made my day :) And as always, Mari is the bestest beta ever *hugs* Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
Chapter End Notes:
I'd love to know what you think :D