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“She’s not going to be happy that you’re here.”

Angel glanced over at the sullen teen curled up on the front steps. He knew she was right. He was probably the last person in the world Buffy wanted to see. As much as he hated the thought of confronting his partner’s – correction, ex-partner’s – girlfriend, it was something that had to be done. She needed to know as much as he was allowed to disclose.

He awkwardly patted Dawn on her head and knocked once before entering the house. As soon as he turned around, he found himself on the ground with one royally pissed off blonde standing over him.

“Get up,” she hissed, hazel eyes flashing with anger and pain.

Angel obligingly scrambled to his feet only to be the recipient of another jaw-cracking blow. He raised his hands in supplication, deciding it was wise to stay on the floor.

Buffy looked as if she were ready to kick him in the ribs when Giles put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “I understand how you feel, dear, but beating Mr. Brennan senseless accomplishes nothing.” Looking away from the livid woman, he shot Angel a look that was pure hatred. “Besides, it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t let me have a go.”

The CIA operative gulped. His eyes darted between his ex-fiancé and his former partner’s father, trying to decide which was the least lethal. Taking a deep breath and hoping he’d made the right choice, he turned to Buffy with wide, appealing eyes and said the only thing that could possibly save him. “Spike may not be dead.”

The petite blonde, with Giles’ help, yanked Angel to his feet. “You have exactly two minutes to explain. If I don’t like what you have to say, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Angel shuddered, wondering when she’d become so frightening. He moved into the living room and waited until the others were seated before speaking. Due to the classified nature of the assignment, there was a limit on what he could tell them. Their mission was to infiltrate a militaristic anarchist radical group and find out who was funding the organization. Not always CIA jurisdiction, but the group was working with several terrorist cells. He paused for a moment, trying to find the courage to tell them the next part.

“Spike agreed to be part of an experimental project. Before we joined the group, he underwent hypnosis to suppress his memories,” he spoke quickly, getting the words out in one breath.

Buffy sprang to her feet angrily. Surely Spike wouldn’t volunteer for something so risky without telling her first, security clearances be damned. Knowing how much she worried about him, why would he do anything to add to that? “He what? I don’t believe it. You’re lying. He would never...”

Intrigued by this information, Giles turned to Angel. “What exactly is the purpose of this hypnosis?”

Pleased that at least one of them was willing to hear him out, Angel quickly explained that by suppressing Spike’s real memories, it would be easier for him to work undercover by minimizing the risk of falling out of his ‘role.’ In the event that he was ever interrogated, he could not reveal any incriminating information.

Buffy stopped her pacing and ran a shaking hand through her hair. The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was exactly the sort of thing her daring lover would do. “Let’s say that Spike did agree to this hypnosis,” she spat the last word. “What does this have to do with what happened?”

Angel smiled grimly. If she didn’t hate him yet, she would definitely want to kill him when he finished telling her exactly what had transpired. “Something went wrong with the hypnosis. Some of his old memories started to break through and were mixing with false ones. Unfortunately the memories were jumbled and fragmented. One night while we were doing a patrol of the outer perimeter, he accused me of being a government agent yet couldn’t remember why he was there. I used the trigger word, but it had no effect. We had a … uh…confrontation, and I thought he fell over the cliff. I didn’t know who he’d told about me so I had to get out of there. I was going to go back for him once I knew it was safe. Buff…”

Buffy’s hands clenched tightly, her knuckles turning white. It was one thing to learn that your lover died during a top-secret assignment but another to find out that your ex was responsible for his death. A small part of her wondered just how “accidental” everything was. The only thing preventing her from ripping out Angel’s heart was his claim that Spike was still alive. “What else?”

“We’ve kept the group under surveillance. Two days ago Spike came back up on our radar. We don’t know what he remembers or what he’s said. My bosses have ordered another team to go in there in two weeks,” Angel responded, slightly relieved when Buffy’s hands relaxed.

“What are you not telling me?” She couldn’t believe that this would all be over soon and Spike would be back in her arms. Rule number one, she’d learned early on, if it seemed too good to be, true it probably was. That went double when dealing with government agencies.

Giles’ sharp eyes bored into Angel’s for a moment, making the other man even more uncomfortable. “They’re not going in to bring him home, Buffy,” he informed her gravely. Angel’s slight fidgeting was a dead giveaway.

Buffy’s shocked gasp echoed through the silent room. She started towards Angel, murder written all over her body. Sensing that it was time for a strategic retreat, Angel leapt off the couch and ran for the door. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” he called out before racing out of the house.

Giles put a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a long hug. Hot tears soaked through his shirt but he paid them no heed. She’d been given hope and then had it cruelly snatched away in a matter of minutes. He pressed a fatherly kiss to the top of her head.

She pulled back and sniffled loudly. “I’m sorry Giles. I shouldn’t use you as my personal Kleenex. Besides, tweed’s kinda rough on the nose.”

Smiling gently he wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. He couldn’t help being proud of his surrogate daughter. Despite all the anguish she’d been through in the past year she refused to let it break her. He was, however, surprised when she moved away and reached for the phone. “What are you doing, dear?”

The look on Buffy’s tear-stained face was determination mixed with desperation. While she’d been crying on Giles’ shoulder, she’d come to the realization that if she wanted Spike home with her, she would have to do it herself. “I’m calling Willow. We need to research. I’ve got two weeks to get him out of there.”





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