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A/N warnings ahoy...take care people and look out for the continuation of a bumpy ride...if you're all good little reviewers, I could maybe have the next chappie out tomorrow...???


Chapter Thirty-Five

Buffy had felt the torment all night; the tearing at her consciousness and separation from reality. Her body had felt residual strikes of pain, the scar on her neck flaring hot as she spent the night alternating between animalistic whimpers and tortured screams. When she had at last felt quiet, she had dragged herself out of bed and vomited continuously for a half an hour before collapsing on the bathroom floor in broken sobs.

It had seemed to take a Herculean effort to drag herself to the front door her body weakened from her sickness in heart and body. Dread consumed her; commonsense demanded she share futility with her mate. She knew that when they got him back, he would be a mess. Nothing in her experience prepared her for the torn, destroyed state of her lover as Riley’s two friends carried him through the door, following closely on the heels of the witch in white.

The Professor had made it all the way into the room before she noticed the scattered Scoobies weighed down with crossbows, and even Xander with a gun. At first she smiled arrogantly, but as Giles moved to roughly grab her and shove her in a chair, her frenzied resistance died down, her searching gaze encountering the averted eyes of her trusted soldiers. Once she had been securely tied to the chair all concern turned to the terribly battered vampire, the room coming to the realisation that Buffy had not moved since he had entered. Her eyes were fixed intently on his figure, great rivers of silent tears flowing down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. Her nose ran and her body shook with the effort of keeping quiet, but it was the inelegant lip wobble that had the Scoobies shoving the sofa violently aside in order to make a bed of blankets and pillows on the floor, providing a place for the two men to lower their load.

Spike remained unconscious, and Buffy felt as though she had drowned in a sea of shimmering toxic air; all her senses blanked out save for the one investigating her claim. She could feel a very minor buzzing at her neck as her healing response kicked in, but there was little to reassure her that Spike was any more undead than one level above dust. There was no recognition, no warmth… ‘but it could be hysteria talking,’ she thought as she broke through the mist surrounding her and lunged for the Professor. She had passionately clasped her hands around the older woman’s neck before Giles had dragged her away. She collapsed across the chest of her beaten warrior and buried her face in black as she cried her heart out.

“Riley?”

The quiet voice came from Willow, stepping forward out of fear for what they were to expect, and hurt for her friend.

He looked up, his face a picture of guilt and anguish. He felt his own once hollow throat now clenching a great lump of emotion as he turned from one angry and upset Scooby to another. His open gaze fell to Giles and he found it necessary to clear his throat a few times before he could get more than a squeak past his lips.

“I’m not sure what she’s done. I do know that she took the chip out…”

“Good!” Giles interrupted furiously, feeling a tremendous need to give the vicious fishwife a good kick in the shins.

“Maybe not so good.” Riley gave Giles the directed attention he would a superior as he relayed what he feared. “The way she told it in the lab, she wants to see how Buffy is going to cope when he wakes up. I’m not sure how it was done, but I think they’ve made him go all primal, like back to the state of an original demon.” He stopped, his eyes wide with fear. “She said that she didn’t think he would recognise humans anymore, so I really wouldn’t take off those chains. And perhaps you should restrain him somewhere. I don’t know how to fix him.”

Giles contemplated Riley, his bluish-gray eyes hardening in measures. Riley saw the older man’s body stiffen in response to the apology he hoped was reflected in his eyes and swallowed nervously as Giles swung his attention to Maggie. She sat, tethered to the chair and smiling in self-satisfaction. His furious Ripper broke free and he took two big steps toward her and let loose with a punishing kick to her shins. He grinned in his own satisfaction, finding a distinct pleasure in hearing her cry out in shock.

“What are you? A sissy fighter?” She was unable to control the outburst but within seconds her lip bled.

“Before you,” he spat at her, “I had never felt the desire to strike a woman. But you aren’t one, are you? So, all bets are off.”

They all flinched at the sudden metallic click of a guns safety being released and turned surprised eyes to Xander as he took up position in front of her.

“Lady, you get no warning. If we can’t have Spike back the way he was when you took him, you won’t be leaving Sunnydale in anything but a crampy wooden box.”

Giles looked at the boy in new admiration, and he stood beside him. Men. Solidarity.

Maggie swivelled as best she could and called for her boys.

“Riley? Graham? Forrest?” The three stood in the doorway, their weapons at ease as they gave their own version of disapproval.

“We know about 314, Professor. I’m not sure what your plan is but you’ve gone beyond our original directive. It doesn’t have approval, therefore, you have to be stopped before you release that thing onto an innocent public.” Riley spoke up for them all, knowing that once uncovered, the government would not sanction the Initiative any more.

Her stunned expression said it all. She had underestimated her men, her project was now at risk and she understood that she was not participating in a trivial exercise. She smelled sudden danger, and finally her eyes rested on the girl sobbing onto the animal on the floor. Her left eye twitched, her leg screamed in agony, and her face felt like it had gone three rounds with Mike Tyson. The girl was in veritable distress, and by the appearance of the other humans in the room, they hurt along with her. Her eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“But he’s a vampire!” Her call to them had Buffy raising her head, sure loathing tainting everything between her and the evil bitch in the chair.

“I once admired you.” Her voice was tired, gravelly, and dead. “But how can you judge him?” Buffy let her eyes roam over the lab coat her teacher was wearing before raising her eyes to search out secrets. Where was the evil? Shouldn’t she be able to see it? In fangs or horns or scaly wrinkles? The lack of obvious evil in this woman she had looked up to tore at her founding acceptance.

Her eyes fell back to Spike, blurring as memories flooded her of her long-held belief that demons were always evil and could never change. She was so grateful to be given the opportunity to have reconsider those beliefs, ones that allowed Spike in her life without unfair suspicion.

“You’re right!” She told Professor Walsh. “He is a vampire. One with a soul. Before he had it I had been trying to kill him for years.” Her voice was dull, conversational. “I could never do it. Because he helped me stop an apocalypse. Acathla. This evil vampire helped me save the world. And I know he will do it again. And again, and again. How many times have you saved the world?”

Her voice had suddenly filled with passion, all for the reality of her vampire and his achievement, despite being who and what he was. Buffy pushed her way to her feet and slowly stepped forward to take a place beside Giles and Xander in front of their captive.

“You once berated Willow during her breakup with Oz, and I told you that you didn’t understand human emotion. I was so right. Not because you don’t want to. But because you have none. Only a sick,” her fury worked up and out to cover the Professor with spatters of hate, “twisted,” a step closer, “bitch could do what you have done to him. He has a soul, so he is as close to one of us as any vamp or non-human can be. I don’t consider you human. You can’t be. You’re soulless! You made a big, big mistake.” She dropped to a crouch to be at eye level with the woman she had once admired and gave her a steely look of determination. “That vamp is my lover, my mate. We are engaged, and you just made the enemy of a lifetime. You have no idea what a Slayer can do, but lady, you’re gonna find out.”

Buffy stood and turned away, the sight of this woman too nauseating to withstand for long stretches of time.

“You will listen to what we tell you. Then you will agree to destroy Adam, or I will stand there and watch him gut you on activation before pulling his uranium core from his guts and shoving it down your throat.”

The Professor gasped in shock, but anger came to her rescue.

“How do you know about Adam?”

“I know everything. I know that your final touch is a Polgara demon; you can attach the spear thingy from its arm to your misguided Frankenstein. I know he wakes and stabs you through, leaving you for dead. I know that the souped up soldiers you created are going to have serious medical problems in the near future; that you created Riley to be a brother to this thing. In short, I know it all, and I do destroy it, but not before it has killed children.” Buffy had turned and took grim satisfaction from seeing all colour drain from Maggie’s face, but her attention was quickly diverted by the primitive growls now gaining volume from the floor.

Her eyes teared as she told her friends to move back away from him, toward the door, in case there was trouble. She kneeled down to be beside him, catching her breath at the suddenness of his eyes opening.

Spike had regained consciousness, and he was furious.


A/N...so how was that? You'd better let me know...I'm not a mind-reader!





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