Remember me? ("There been executions")
Remember me? ("I have no remorse")
Remember me? ("I'm high, power!")
Remember me? ("I drop bombs like Hiroshima")
Eminem – Remember me?
*Sunnydale, CA*
Spike hated this fucking town. This place, with the Slayer attached to it, was where everything had gone to hell in a handbasket for him and his beloved sire.
Well, at least she used to be beloved. It had taken more than two years of trying to track her and her precious ‘Daddy’ through the world’s underbelly, but he could safely say he was over the bitch. Considering there was a theory one gets over a heartbreak after half the time of the relationship, two years meant he got off cheap.
Dru had high-tailed it out of Sunnydale as soon as the Master’s bones were ground to powder. She had taken the brooding git, Angel, with her. She hadn’t stopped until she’d reached a wish-granting demon in Africa, where she’d gone in and performed the trials herself before she was granted her heart’s desire: soul-less Angelus was back and in an even crappier mood than ever before. He’d spent the following months on a bloody rampage—emphasis on bloody—the likes of which only legends alluded to. Spike had tried his best throughout the whole fucked-up thing to get Dru to see him as her knight again. Despite her threats, and how she’d left, he hoped he could win her back.
She all but pushed him out in the sun for his trouble. Well, no, since she’d tried to do even that at some point. Angelus got in on the game of ‘kick-the-Spike’ as soon as they’d left the Sunnydale city limits, but he’d only gotten physical about it after the soul was gone. Spike had been overwhelmed by the tag-team of Angelus and Dru. They’d tortured him for a couple of weeks, then released him to join in on the killing. He’d tried his best to be the ruthless member of the group of old, but his heart just wasn’t in it anymore.
In the end, he had enough.
Enough of the slaughter, enough of the sounds of Angelus and Dru fucking like rabbits every single night, enough of the big git lording over him, and enough of her blaming Spike over and over again for everything that ever went wrong in their fucking dysfunctional family.
So he’d left, barely restraining himself from burning down the temporary digs Angelus had secured for them. He still didn’t know if leaving them un-dusted had been the right call. Ah, well, nothing like eternity to rectify that if need be. They’d won the battle because he hadn’t expected Dru to attack him. He would never make that mistake again. In fact, he’d probably start off by killing her first. Maybe next time.
Meanwhile he found himself—after some mindless wandering about—back in the little burg where Dru and Angelus had been reunited.
Brilliant. Maybe he should take up holy water showers while he was at it.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to pay his respects to the Slayer while he was in her neck of the woods. Maybe this time he’d off the chit instead of helping her make sure his great-whatever wasn’t resurrected.
God only knew he owed the bitch. Time for some payback.
*
“Well, this sucks balls.” Spike popped a cigarette in his mouth and lit up while contemplating the charred husk of the former Sunnydale High. He wondered how the place got like that. Probably something to do with the Hellmouth under the building, but the details eluded him. Since he was plum out of ideas about where to find either the Slayer or her watcher, he’d to go back to the tried and true methods of going to the nearest demon bar.
*
It didn’t take long for Spike to remember his previous visit to the dive, so as soon as he stepped in, he indulged in a little role-play and re-enacted his entrance. The results were more than encouraging. He’d found one of the more peaceful demons—Clem—who’d brought him up to speed on the last couple of years on the Hellmouth.
Some bugger almost opening a giant rock and sucking the world into hell, an almost-complete ascension, and countless other misadventures. Sounded like the fun never stopped. Clem even knew where the Slayer lived, but insisted she’d moved into one of the dorms, since she was a freshman in College. Which in itself was a bit of a mystery, since most demons steered clear of the college campus. There were some ninja-wannabees killing and capturing demons left and right, and they seemed to be based on that campus.
This of course meant they were between Spike and his prey. It was a mistake Spike intended to make them pay dearly for.
It would take some information gathering, getting minions on his side, and research, but just imagine the luck: Spike had nothing better to do at the moment, so he could go all in. Maybe he’d claim the title of Master of Sunnydale while he was at it. The Hellmouth might turn out to be fun.
~~~***~~~
*Spike’s lair in the caves just outside Sunnyale*
Being the Master was not as fun as he’d imagined. Even getting the job wasn’t as bloody as Spike would have liked. There were only a couple of demon challengers, and the two vampires with the most minions were two blondes who had basically thrown themselves at his feet an offered themselves as concubines.
Not that he was looking, but maybe a bit of mindless fun with Sunday and Harmony would do him some good. They certainly seemed enthusiastic enough.
Unfortunately that’s where the entertaining bits ended. The rest was a bunch of wankers scared out of their wits, but still trying to pretend they were tough. It wasn’t even the Slayer they were most afraid of, despite the way they told stories of her exploits. They were scared of a bunch of humans hiding in the shadows, making demons disappear.
It wasn’t only the vampires, either. As soon as Spike took the mantle of Master, there was a queue of all sorts of paranormal denizens at his door, waiting in line to tell him their woes, which mostly boiled down to ‘we’re missing so-and-so, please find him or her and stop whatever’s going on.’
It was almost enough to drive a poor vamp round the bend.
He needed to get out of the bloody lair—if only to get away from all the unicorns and turned frat boys—and he knew just where he wanted to go to.
~~~***~~~
*First bloody cemetery on the left, Sunnydale*
It wasn’t his usual MO, but he did have it in him to be patient from time to time. His first instinct had been to go to the Bronze, the be-all, end-all of teen clubs in town, but his current high profile meant he’d probably be accosted by any number of supplicants wanting this and that. Which is why he had been waiting in the some random cemetery for three hours straight. During that time he’d been so bored out of his mind he even did something he never thought he’d do. He acted like the actual town’s Master and staked a vampire that refused to swear his allegiance. Okay, so he hadn’t asked for the other guy’s acknowledgement, and he hadn’t given him much of a chance to run away, either, but at least he’d managed to distract himself from the tedious sitting around waiting for…
There was movement behind a mausoleum. He used every bit of stealth he had to go take a closer look. He almost wished he didn’t. A team of three Special-Ops looking guys were busy trying to incapacitate a Fyarl with Tazers. Spike cursed to himself. He’d wanted to get a whiff of the Slayer, maybe fit in a quick fight to the death, but the Powers that Be Wankers wouldn’t let him catch a break.
So it would have to be work, not play tonight.
The Fyarl tried to barrel over one of the humans in a desperate attempt to escape. Spike used the chance and knocked one of the demon hunters out. He then dragged him away as fast as he could, while still remaining undetected. By the time his victim’s buddies started yelling for their comrade it was already too late for them to find him.
Spike would at least get some answers about what was going on, even if his first choice of entertainment was a no-show.
~~~***~~~
*Spike’s lair, still in the caves, a couple of days later*
The US Army, calling themselves something as stupid as The Initiative. Of course they were the ones behind the commandoes and kidnappings of demons. From what the meat-sack told him, Spike was willing to bet his collection of Sex Pistols vinyls that it all came back to whatever Angel managed to get to the Americans from that Nazi sub back in the day.
It was just his luck to end up paying for the Great Git’s mistakes even after decades. And to think he’d come to Sunnyhell to get away from his Grand-sire and everything about him. Well, God laughs when man makes plans, or something along those lines. And the things they were doing to demons… It was bad enough to make his stomach churn. Dismembering, vivisection, torture disguised as experimentation, and, worst of all, ‘behavioral modification.’ Which of course was code for ‘trying to turn vamps and demons into weapons for Uncle Sam.’ It needed to stop.
In the meantime, though, the newly turned Forrest was getting on Spike’s nerves. Ever since he’d heard about the Slayer from Harmony he was chomping at the bit to go after her.
Since he’d given up the information he’d had on the army base as soon as he woke up as a vampire, his usefulness had all but evaporated. Turned soldiers tended to either be fiercely loyal to their sires, or loose cannons that believed they were above their station. This Forrest bloke was definitely in the latter group. In fact, Spike had half a mind to let him roam free in the hope of seeing the Slayer dust him. That way he’d finally have eyes on her with a nice little bonus of getting rid of a potential troublemaker. The idea had merit.
Then again, with Spike’s luck of late, Forrest would probably be captured by his former mates and made to sing like a bird about the lair and the new Master in town. Okay, that settled that, the git was dust the next time he opened his big mouth to say anything about—
“Who’d’ve thought little Miss Buff was the Slayer? I’ll probably do Riley a favor if I drain her before he manages to drum up the courage to ask her out. If she’s all you say she is, she’s probably gonna be the death of him otherwise.” He sneered. “I’d rather have the pleasure to snuff out good old Dudley Do-Right instead.” He tried unsuccessfully to leer at Harmony, not that she could tell the difference.
Enough was enough. “Mate.” When Forrest turned towards him with a raised eyebrow, filled with contempt despite the fact he was still unable to even control his game-face, Spike sent a stake flying straight into his heart. Bloody full of themselves fledges.
Now to figure out how to best exploit the Initiative’s overconfidence against them.
*
In the end, the best he could come up with was a ‘Trojan horse’ approach. Of course, that meant a whole bunch of vamps and demons working together for the greater good. There was no way any of this could come to a happy end, but it was the best shot. Of course, convincing said vamps and demons wouldn’t be easy, but he had nothing but time on his hands, with the quarantine he’d imposed around the Sunnydale campus in full force.
God, he hated being the sensible one. The thought brought him short. When exactly had he been the sensible one? He should just barge in there, challenge the Slayer to a good, old-fashioned fight to the death, and be done with the whole of it.
Except he wouldn’t. Despite his best efforts the demon population here in Sunnyhell had grown on him. There were even a couple of the good for nothing gits he could be persuaded to call mates. Which meant going at it in an ‘all or nothing’ suicide mission would bugger up their chances.
“Master, I found something you should see.”
Dalton looked as excited as he’d ever seen him, so it must have been something big. Maybe he’d finally found that back entrance he was looking for.
“If this text is right, then we might just locate it.” Dalton pointed to a pile of papers that looked about ready to crumble into dust.
“Find what? The tunnel I asked you to look for? That better be it, or I don’t know what I’ll do to you.” The threat was empty, since Spike had a soft spot for the bookish vampire who reminded him of his human days.
“This is so much better, Master.” He picked up one of the papers and waved it around. “This text mentions the Gem of Amara. And furthermore, it says it’s buried right here, on the Hellmouth.”
Spike burst out laughing. “Only you could believe that fairytale.” He made a dismissive gesture. “Next you’re going to tell me there’s Arthur’s sword stuck in some rock down there too.”
“Well, Sir, the thing is a couple of years back there was a ‘sword stuck in a stone’ situation. The stone itself, of course, was Acathla, and there was a demon who tried to pry it out in order to bring about the Apocalypse.”
Spike stopped laughing and stared at Dalton. “You’re taking the piss.”
“The demon in question even got so far as to kill the other Slayer—Kendra I believe her name was—before Miss Buffy used her own sword to cut him in pieces.”
“Ouch. That sounds bloody painful. Shame I missed it.”
“It was… yes… So you see, Sir, in this town…”
“Yea, I get it. Everything’s possible on the Hellmouth.” He sighed and sat down at Dalton’s table. “Now run this by me again.”
A new plan was forming. Better, faster, and cleverer. It might just work, too.

Remember Me? lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, BMG Rights Management US, LLC

Everything we've ever stolen
Has been lost, returned or broken
No more dragons left to slay
Robbie Williams – Road to Mandalay
*Sunnydale University dorm room*
Buffy woke up in throbbing need. She looked across the room to confirm Willow had left for morning classes, then settled back in her bed and slipped a hand in her pajama pants. Her dreams had been filled with sex scenes so racy they could have made Penthouse editors blush, even though the identity of her dream partner remained elusive. She would have liked to be able to say they were memories, but so far Faith remained the only person other than herself to ever bring her off. Scott and Parker never even came close. Maybe that’s part of the reason she was three for three in the love-‘em-and-leave-her department.
Scott had been a nice, reliable, and considerate boyfriend, and he’d been much the same their one and only night of passion. Only calling it that sounded weird, especially since they were just two virgins fumbling around after Prom in the good old American tradition. His dumping her the next day only left her hurt and lonely.
Which is why she’d ended up in a naked tangle of limbs with Faith not a week later. The experience had brought her solace, a couple of orgasms, and feelings of ‘what did I just do?’ At least the morning after had been tons better than the one with Scott. They’d cuddled, talked, and agreed they were better off as sisters in all but name than as lovers. Of course, since both Scott and Faith left town after graduation, it still seemed like a rejection, even if one went to college and the other to LA to fight the good fight as per the arrangement with the Council.
It was almost four months later until Buffy was ready to give the whole sex thing another go and she couldn’t have chosen a worse partner to do it with. The lowlife named Parker was only interested in another freshman conquest, so he pulled the wool over her eyes, fed her some cheap lines, and stole a few moments of sweaty and unfulfilling horizontal gymnastics. Score one more for dumbass Buffy who is apparently worth only a one night stand.
Which meant that now, upon waking from her very X-rated dream, she had no real good adult memories to fall back on while she tried to bring herself off. Her dream lover—who was most definitely male—had brought her to peaks of ecstasy she feared were only possible in the imagination, but the crowning moment, the action that had woken her up, was the feel of sharp fangs piercing her skin. She’d only felt it once, when the Master had killed her, and it sure hadn’t felt as it had in her dream. Apparently her dream self was also a wanton fang slut, since she’d screamed in pleasure when her blood started flowing.
God but it had been hot. Wrong on so many levels, but incredibly hot. So hot, in fact, that as soon as she replayed it in her head, it was enough to push her over the edge without any help from the purple vibrator still in her bedside drawer.
Buffy lay panting on her bed, sated from her orgasm, and yet hungry for more. God, she really needed to get a boyfriend. Preferably one with a pulse and a lack of fangs. Although… She shivered again in aftermath. She also needed to scrub her brain clean. And she’d get right on it as soon as she was done basking.
~~~****~~~
*The Initiative Complex, under the Sunnydale campus*
Maggie Walsh slammed shut another folder filled with less than impressive numbers. Despite the initial successes which saw dozens of demons captured, with five new species identified, as well as no less than three promising vampires in custody, the numbers had dwindled sharply, especially in the last month.
It was frustrating. Was this the best the famed Hellmouth had to offer? She’d chosen the location since it was supposed to be a hot-spot for HST activity, but the results… Her backers and higher-ups won’t be fooled by rave reports for long. She needed to find a way to turn things around, to have palpable results to offer, before her funding was pulled. If she couldn’t complete her special project in room 314 before that happened, she would never have another chance again. She knew that much.
Unfortunately the results were slow to show. None of the subjects implanted with the behavioral modification chip were able to survive long after insertion, many of the captured demons had to be put down for investigation, or extraction of their various useful parts, and the remaining ones were all but useless. To top it all off, several of her men had gone missing, including her second-best demon retriever, Forrest. She really needed a win, and soon.
What she didn’t need were more reports of co-eds getting in the way of her teams. It was almost bad enough to get her to believe in curses.
She pushed the appropriate buttons and barked an order in the walkie-talkie on her desk. It was time her so-called teams changed tactics. Maggie refused to believe there were only about a hundred HST in what was supposed to be a hotbed of activity for their kind. A better explanation was that, just as a herd keeps away from the favorite hunting grounds of a lion pride, so her teams must have scared away the so-called demons.
Riley walked in the door and took standing position in front of her desk.
“Take your best men and head out. Tonight I want you to go outside the city limits. We’ve scared the Hostiles away from our base of operations, but it’s time t flush them out of their hiding holes. I expect regular patrols in a grid pattern to cover the whole town and surroundings within a week.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed to make sure he understood how serious she was. “It’s been a week since the last capture. I don’t want to go another week without another subject for our studies. We need to study these hostiles to find out how to protect ourselves. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll make the arrangements.”
“See that you do. Your country is counting on you.”
Riley saluted, did an about-face, and left.
~~~***~~~
*The Magic Box*
The bell above the door rang, signaling the exit of another happy customer and, at the same time, the end of the shop’s official work hours. Jenny turned the ‘open’ sign around, so that the ‘closed’ sign was showing from the outside. “And that was the last one. We’re officially the longest tenure in the shop’s history.”
Giles groaned from where he was busy counting the till for the day. “You do realize you just jinxed us, don’t you dear?”
She waved a hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Between the two of us, we know any possible harmful spell ingredients we need to be on the lookout for, we have wards and protection spells up almost around the clock, I have coven meetings every other night in the back room, and last, but by no means least, the rest of the nights your slayer teaches self-defense classes.” She shrugged and let her eyes roam across the shop’s interior. This might actually be one of the safest places in Sunnydale since we took over my family’s business.”
Giles shrugged and went back to tallying the day’s transactions. “You’re right dear.”
Jenny smiled, went behind the counter, and slid between his body and the till. “The fact that you can admit that does wonders to me. Wanna go in the training room and see for yourself?”
He glanced to the side at the wall-mounted clock. “We have an hour or so until Buffy should arrive.” His smile was downright devilish as his hands travelled up her sides. “You are a very bad influence. Maybe you should be punished for your wanton ways.”
A delicious tingle spread through her body. “Not if I get there first.”
They both sprinted to the door, with Giles beating her by an inch. He looked too smug, so Jenny decided maybe next time she wouldn’t let him win. The look he gave her, though, made her rethink her decision. There were no losers in their games, anyway.
He opened the door and held it for her to go first.
“Thank you, Mr. Giles”
“You’re welcome, future Mrs. Giles.”
She gave him a big smile, as she always did when he reminded her of their upcoming wedding.
~~~***~~~
*One week later, tunnels underneath Sunnydale*
The final pickaxe swing did it: there was a small crack in the wall which opened up in another chamber. If Spike’s heart were beating, it would be thumping against his ribcage like crazy. He made quick work of widening the opening enough to crawl through. He’d done it. He’d found the treasure trove that held the Gem.
Before he had a chance to truly stand and enjoy the moment, Harmony and Sunday mobbed the entrance, pushing each other the whole way and screaming about being first in. They were both in such a hurry that only after they probably only realized there was no light inside after they slithered through. “Spikey, come on, get in here, it’s too dark and I’m sure I just stepped in something.”
He grabbed a torch from Dalton and crawled through the hole himself. It was breathtaking. Piles and piles of treasure everywhere, and somewhere, possibly hiding in plain sight, there had to be the Gem of Amara.
“So… are we going to be splitting this evenly, or what?”
“I guess, sure.” Spike was only half-listening to what Sunday had to say. What he really wanted was to figure out which ugly ass piece of jewelry was the Gem. He felt drawn to an amulet, so he put it on and looked around for a cross or something to test it out with.
Harmony was modelling some ring she’d found on a table. “So you think we could go to Paris now? We don’t really need to sit around and wait for those Initiative guys to get us.”
“Brian and I are leaving as soon as we split the money.”
Spike frowned. What did his right hand man have to do with his so-called consort number one?
Harmony turned and vamped out. “No you don’t, you bitch. He promised he’d take me to Paris.”
Sunday vamped out too. “Over my undead body.”
Spike took a step between them. “Who said anything about leaving? We still have a battle to fight, and a Slayer to kill. Remember that plan?”
Sunday snorted. “As if. You’re about as close to doing anything on either of those fronts as I am to a perfect suntan.”
“You’re going to go get a suntan? Can we go to those tanning parlors? Won’t they, like, kill us, or something?”
“Ohmygod, shut up.” Sunday picked up a piece of wood up off the floor and rammed it into Harmony’s chest.
“I can’t believe you just did that. I even went down on you that one time, even though I’m so not into chicks, and you stake me?” She whipped out the stake from her heart and threw it at Sunday.
Spike all but froze. Harmony found it. He wasn’t sure who was more surprised by Harmony’s attack of the three of them, but Sunday was definitely the madder. She ripped out the makeshift stake from her shoulder and made to go after Harmony again.
Brian showed up right on time to block Sunday’s fist. “What’s going on? I thought we’d be celebrating.” His hands slid down from her shoulders to cup her ass.
“That’s what I thought, but I guess you prefer the fraternity slut.”
Brian shrugged. “There’s always room for one more. Three shares would go a long way.” He narrowed his eyes. “But I gotta ask. How’d you survive being staked?” He turned to Spike. “Is there something you want to tell us, boss?”
Spike moved as fast as he could, grabbed Harmony’s hand and forced the ring off. “Pirate captains get a choice of a boon from every treasure. I choose this as my boon, you can share everything else evenly.”
“We’re not pirates. Are we pirates? I thought we were simply vampires.”
Spike was getting fed up with her. “No, Harm, we’re not really pirates, but we’re on the outside of society, living by our own laws, and we’re digging for treasure. That’s close enough, I think.”
Brian narrowed his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling that if I were to take everything else in this cave, I’d still be getting shafted?”
Spike took a step back and lit up a cigarette. “That’s because you’re smarter than the average minion. Just between you and me, most Masters wouldn’t like a minion with brains. Lucky for you I do.”
There was a spark of greed in the other man’s eyes. “So we share everything, right? Fair’s fair.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Sunday and Harmony, still sneering at one another over who’d get to accompany Brian out of town. “Looks to me we were already sharing more than I was aware of.”
Sunday shrugged “No offence, but you became kind of boring once you started this whole treasure hunt, quest, thing, whatever you’ve got going on.” She looked around the room. “Turned out well, don’t get me wrong, but the whole ‘obsessed with digging’ vibe you had going on? Not sexy.” She caressed Brian’s bicep. “Girl’s gotta keep herself entertained.”
Harmony stomped her foot. “What about me?”
Brian winked and sent her an air kiss. “You’re great too, babe.”
“Really? I’m thrilled. So glad everyone’s bloody getting along while I’m trying to take on a secret Nazi government organization set on enslaving everyone that’s not ‘human.’ Go, have fun in Paris, choke on a baguette, but I’m keeping the ring. At least I won’t use it just to get a fucking tan.”
Brian stepped forward. “Is that what that is? I don’t know, boss, I think that’s some pretty powerful bauble you got there. Why don’t you give it over?”
“Or?”
“Or, by my count, it’s three against one.”
Spike licked his lips. “That right?” He vamped out, threw the cigarette in Brian’s face, grabbed the discarded piece of wood off the floor, and dusted Sunday before she had time to switch in her game-face. He then rounded on Harmony, who made a squeaking sound and ran to cower in a corner.
Brian had recovered, though, so Spike and he started to trade blows, each looking for an opening in the other’s defenses. Spike had the added advantage of wearing the Gem. He didn’t charge in as he could have, both because Brian wasn’t a run of the mill fledge, and because he wanted to test the limitations of the Gem.
Punches and kick still hurt, but the pain was dulled. Getting stabbed was not fun, but the wound closed up at once after he pulled out the knife.
After a few minutes of back and forth Spike noticed an opening and pressed his advantage, feigned a right cross, then used his knee to bring his opponent down. He bent over Brian and broke his neck, then used another makeshift stake to finish the job. He wasn’t happy about how things had worked out, but then again, dusting two of his most trusted henchmen was a small price to pay.
He looked over at where Harmony was plastered against the back wall. “You can take a bag of gold and baubles and leave, or you can simply leave empty-handed, but the main point is: I want you out of my domain by sun-up. Got it?”
“Yes. I’ll just… okay… But Spikey, are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I’ll let you—”
Spike vamped out from where he’d relaxed after dusting Brian. “I said go.”
She cowered even further, then she stuffed a few handfuls of treasure down her blouse and made for the chamber’s opening, keeping her back to the wall the whole time.
As soon as she was gone, Spike allowed himself to relax and put the ring on. He knew this type of thing could happen again and again, with all the vamps in the world being drawn to the Gem like catnip. He’d have to deal with them as they come. In the meantime, there was a plan he needed to follow concerning a certain Slayer, and the fucking Initiative. Maybe if this plan A was successful enough, the other attempt, plan B as it were, wouldn’t be needed, and there wouldn’t be as many casualties on his side.
He frowned and set off for the wall opening. It was thoughts like these that required a healthy dose of whiskey to drown out the feeling of uneasiness. Since when was he concerned about some demons and vampires losing their lives in battle? Ah, well, nothing a couple of bottles of Jack couldn’t fix.
***
If he ever got his hands on that magical bitch, Amara, he’d not only wring her neck, he’d flay her skin off, rub it with all kinds of spices, and stick it back on again. Who’d’ve thought one of the things the blasted ring would protect him from would be inebriation? What good was it to be impervious if you couldn’t get sloshed all proper like every once in a while?
God, eternity would be hell to endure without alcohol. Maybe if he went for another kind of drink he’d feel better.
Wait. Why wasn’t he hungry? He’d been living on bagged blood for more than a week while he dug for the Gem, and the last meal he’d had was the previous night. Why weren’t his insides crawling with the need for blood?
Also, if this thing had gotten Brian to turn against him in an instant, what would it do for other, more ambitious vamps?
What exactly had he gotten himself into?

Road to Mandalay lyrics © BMG Rights Management US, LLC

Sun is shining, the weather is sweet
Make you want to move your dancing feet
To the rescue, here I am
Want you to know ya, where I stand
Bob Marley – Sun is shining
*Sunnydale University campus*
The sun shone bright in the sky, people walked to and fro, and Spike strolled among them with a smile on his face. He wasn’t in a hurry, he wasn’t dodging the harmful rays, or feeling his chest burn from the heat. He’d even left his duster in the caves, and he’d grabbed a white T-shirt emblazoned with a surfing shark from one of the minions instead of his usual black on black. He’d gone as far as to scrub his nail-polish off.
He was doing recon in the heart of the beast—Sunnydale campus—so for his first foray he’d gone for the ‘random student’ look. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the Initiative. Forrest had been armed to the teeth when Spike had turned him. Each and every weapon had been tested on himself, with the Gem protecting him from all but the worst pain, and he’d been healed in an instant. The problem was he was just one. Even with his power and fighting expertise, the soldiers could simply overwhelm him with numbers. What if one of them used his one working neuron and pulled the ring off his finger? No, he couldn’t risk becoming their new pet project. God only knows what the Initiative would make of the Gem of Amara.
Stealthy infiltration was the way to go. The cover for the base was a frat house, which meant they probably had a lot of parties. All Spike had to do was find out when one of those parties was set to take place, show up, and do a bit of snooping.
As per usual with his plans in this town, something happened: he spotted the Slayer before he reached Lowell House. For all he’d sought her out in the beginning of his stay, and for all he’d imagined he’d do as soon as he found her, actually seeing her in front of him—in broad daylight no less—was a shock.
She’d grown up since he’d seen her last. Sure, he hadn’t been paying much attention, and they hadn’t spent much time together, but she looked... good enough to eat. Wonderful, his almost non-existent hunger decided now was the time to make an appearance. Only it wasn’t really hunger, it felt more like something else.
Spike shook his head to scatter the thoughts away. The last thing he needed was to start lusting after some chit he wanted to fight to the death. That would be just wrong.
And stupid.
And bad.
And it sounded just like something he’d do.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, then remembered his go-to distraction and lit a cigarette.
Better.
“So what do you think of our TA in Psych?” The redhead was familiar to Spike, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember her name.
“Who?” The slayer scrunched her nose in a way that was definitely not adorable.
“You know him, Riley. He’s asked me about you, you know.”
Riley… Where did he know that name from? As if a proverbial light bulb switched on, Spike remembered both the name, and his very brief encounter with the sod. He was in command of one of the Initiative death squads. In fact, Forrest had mentioned something about Riley having the hots for the slayer before he dusted. Spike barely contained a snarl as the two girls passed by him.
Wait. They passed by him without giving him a second look. Even if the Slayer had changed in the previous two years, Spike hadn’t, so her not recognizing him was… neat. Insulting, of course, but neat at the same time. He looked down at his shirt. Maybe this whole undercover business could actually work. Huh.
“I don’t know. Isn’t there some law somewhere saying something about dating the faculty staff?” The Slayer sounded less than enthused about the prospect.
The redhead was visibly flustered. “Uh, since when are you all about the rules?”
The Slayer raised an eyebrow. “Since when are you about not?”
The rest of the conversation was lost on Spike as he focused more on the two girls’ body language, combined with trying to keep a low profile, and dodging students who were dashing from one class to the next. Really, what was it with humans and hurrying to and fro?
He stopped following the girls when they went into a coffee shop. What was his play? Go in and start a fight to the death in broad daylight with the Slayer? He wanted it, could almost taste it, but he couldn’t indulge. There was the Initiative to consider. It would be hard to keep a low profile after beating and murdering a coed on top of their base. He snarled and turned away. His score with the Slayer would have to wait until he eliminated the threat to the broader demon population.
He felt like bashing his own head in, he sounded so righteous.
Soon enough he found himself close to Lowell House. There were no flyers posted, nothing to indicate when there would be a party. Not that he expected any signs of one. Nothing was that easy, at least not in this town.
Staring at the frat house was no more helpful than his earlier staring at the coffee shop, so he whirled away once more, this time without a clear destination in mind.
He ended up in a library of all places. He sat down at one of the tables and just breathed the air in. Books, more books, and freshman desperation. He was deep in thought about what he wanted to do next, when a sign caught his eye. Apparently there was a job opening. Not that he would be of any use to anyone while sitting behind the counter of a college library.
But he could do better from a different position.
~~~***~~~
*The Espresso Pump, the next day*
Spike abhorred his uniform. He’d never liked uniforms in general, but the light brown apron was particularly hideous.
It did have its good parts though. One of them was sitting at a table close to the entrance, sipping on her double mocha macchiato through a straw: the Slayer. It was the third time he saw her, and every time he did he couldn’t help noticing she looked so different from the girl he’d first seen. More mature, with more sadness that he could glimpse from time to time, but also more carefree, as opposed to the borderline manic teen he’d helped destroy his great-whatever’s bones.
She was also the reason for the god-awful job. He needed someplace where he could eavesdrop without it being obvious, and when he went out on deliveries he would have the run of the campus, all the while being all but invisible to anyone not waiting for him to serve them.
What Spike hadn’t counted on was overhearing someone being addressed by Riley two tables over from the Slayer. Well, well, well. Spike finished serving his current order and focused on the table with the potential commandoes.
Four young men, well-built, clean-shaven, and with ramrod straight backs were talking together in hushed tones. Bingo.
“I’ve had enough of this frigging heat. I’d like to go somewhere on the Great Lakes for a change.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” The lug threw a glance towards the Slayer’s table. “Though this place isn’t without its merits.”
The previous speaker bumped shoulders with the second. “You should forget about it. If Maggie has us running around as she’s been doing lately, you won’t have time to chase a skirt.”
Another guy chuckled. “And if we don’t manage to bring any more animals for her zoo, she’ll have our hide, or the unit will disband.”
The first speaker tapped the back of his hand to the third’s arm. “And that’s why we were talking about where we would like to be reassigned. Where were you a minute ago? Riley, tell them what you told me.”
The second speaker—Riley—cleared his throat. “Yeah, so it seems there’s some pressure from the higher-ups about results. No hostiles, no results, so no base.” He shrugged. “Or that’s how I heard it.”
The third grinned all of a sudden and rose from the table. “Sorry, but there’s this girl giving me the ‘come here’ look.” He got up from the table and spoke louder than before. “Later guys.” He then made a beeline for the table in the corner, where there was indeed a woman smiling at him.
The rest of the conversation was irrelevant to Spike, centering more on various conquests the third guy had managed, and more speculation about the best possible reassignment.
So if the vampire and demon population managed to stay indoors long enough, the Initiative would be a problem that solved itself. Spike grinned as he served the rest of the customers. Things were looking up.
~~~***~~~
*Oz’s hide-away crypt*
Willow had just finished putting the padlock on Oz’s cage to keep him safe during the full moon transformation in a werewolf when there was a noise outside.
Willow turned to him. “Are you waiting for someone?”
Oz gestured to the bars. “Not tonight.”
“Oh. Right.” She started toward the door when it banged open and three black-clad figures burst in.
One of them started talking while holding a hand to his ear. “We have two suspects, normal heat signatures, but one is in a cage. Protocol?” He seemed to be listening to someone as he kept nodding from time to time.
“Um, hello. What can we help you guys with?” Willow pointed at the Tazers the men were holding up. “And could we please do this without weapons?”
The presumptive leader answered her. “Why are you in a crypt, in a cemetery, at night, and why are you holding the male captive?”
Willow was outraged. “I’m not holding him captive.”
The guy pointed to her hand. “Aren’t those the keys to the padlock on the bars?”
She looked at her hand for a second. “Oh. Ups. Can we go with: it’s not what it looks like?”
Oz whispered low enough so the newcomers couldn’t hear him. “Babe? Moon.”
Oh no. She needed to get everyone out before Oz transformed into the wolf and she wouldn’t be able to explain what happened. “Could we take this conversation outside?”
“I think we should take this someplace else, you’re right.” He turned to his men and made a signal with his head. “There’s something very strange here and we need answers, so we’re taking them with.”
The guy on the left grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘and we need to bring in more hostiles.’
“Really, guys, we’re fine, you don’t need to accompany us anywhere.”
“I insist. Get him out of that cage.”
Willow spread her arms out and tried to cover the cage behind her. “No. You don’t know what’s going on here. You should just leave us alone.”
One of the masked men snorted as they converged on her. For the second time, the door was wrenched open and some more people walked in just as one of the initial intruders had grabbed Willow’s hand in a painful grip.
What followed was chaos. Willow heard herself scream, but she couldn’t stop for the life of her. Oz had started morphing behind her, so he was whimpering and growling. The ninja-wannabes were fighting off the newcomers, who turned out to be two vampires and two other demons Willow couldn’t remember the names of at the moment. The fight was short, brutal, and it ended with one dusted vampire, the other unconscious, and the two demons limping out while carrying the vampire between them. The three masked men, on the other hand, were all dead, two of them with broken necks, and the third with his brains splattered across one of the crypt walls. Willow was still screaming.
Just before the demons walked out, one of them turned and grunted. “You’re welcome, witch.”
Willow made to take a step back, only for werewolf-Oz to take a swipe at her. She curled up in a corner as far from both the cage, and the dead bodies, and wept.
There was a noise coming from the body of the dead leader that broke through the sounds of her sobs and Oz’s howling.
She really didn’t want to, but she crawled closer to the carnage.
“Team 3, come in. What’s happening? Did you apprehend the hostiles?”
Not good. Totally of the bad. Willow glanced once more at the prowling Oz. She needed to get Buffy. Buffy would know what to do about this. Willow needed help before whomever the people the intruders were talking to decided to come and see what happened to their friends.
Still on shaky legs, Willow stumbled out of the crypt and rushed to find the Slayer.
~~~***~~~
*Spike’s cave headquarters, later that night*
“You did what?”
“Struck back for once.” The Kris’nick demon raised his head in defiance. “And we even brought back your minion.”
Spike looked the speaker up and down. “You’re bleeding like a sieve, your friend over there is three minutes away from the big Hellmouth in the sky, or whatever it is you lot go to after you die.” He sighed. “And you got one of my best fighters killed, while letting the bloody army know we can fight back.”
“Maybe if they lose enough men, they’ll lose interest and leave us alone.”
“The Japanese tried that tactic in World War Two, and got a couple of nukes dropped on their heads for their troubles.”
The Kris’nick furrowed his brows. “You are worried they will nuke Sunnydale?”
Spike snarled. “No, I’m not worried about the army nuking an American town, what I am worried about is them bringing in the big guns, declaring this place some sort of contaminated area, and wiping us out.”
There were gasps from around the cave, where Spike’s minions were listening in. One of them murmured “They can do that?”
Spike took a step forward and raised his voice. “You lot think this is a game? We’re fighting the Nazi inspired part of the US Army. Don’t underestimate the bastards, and don’t take them on until we’re ready.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We had a plan. Hell, we had several. We were going to let them think the Hellmouth was empty of demons.” He pointed at the Kris’nick. “You lot just made sure they won’t go away. Leave no man behind, and all that rot. They just lost a team after weeks of almost no contact. They will send everything they have to try to root out who did it. They’ll send for reinforcements.”
“So by killing the soldiers they did something wrong, Master?” Spike saw he was one of Sunday’s gang. With such a brain trust to work with it was no wonder the late would-be Mistress never had the balls to take on the Slayer.
“It sure didn’t bloody well help.”
“Didn’t you kill and turn one of them?” The Kris’nick was looking at him with superiority.
“I didn’t know what we were up against then, did I? We needed information, and I got it. Had I known then what I do now, I never would’ve touched the annoying bugger.”
He looked down at his hands. The gem was glinting in the torchlight and Spike had a brief image of Angelus wearing it while he bathed the world in blood. Such was the stuff of nightmares. He raised his gaze and made eye contact, one after the other, with almost everyone present. This was his army.
He realized with a start that, despite the grumblings and stupid questions, they all trusted him to make the decisions. In his hundred years plus with Dru he’d never had someone look at him with such trust. If he were to do a bit of introspection, he’d probably find that it was one of the reasons he’d abandoned his initial plan of ‘make the Slayer dead,’ rinse, repeat.
Of course he’d had minions before, he’d even led a nest or two over the years, but it was always a temporary gig, dependent on Dru’ whims and needs. Nothing compared to what he had now, though: a group of vampires and even some demons ready to take orders from him, ready to die for a cause.
He had a cause. The thought almost made him snort. In all his life, and even more so in his unlife, there never had been a cause. He’d had goals. Take care of Mum, try to win over Cecily, make Dru happy, make Angelus proud, and of course: make Dru happy.
Yet here he was: the rebel with a following. He grinned. He’d rewrite the book on the Helmouth.
“Right, mates, new plan, listen up: it’s time we struck back. The time for hiding is over. We’ll have two teams: one will hunt the bloody wankers—don’t let them rest a second; the second team will have to get captured. We need men on the inside so that when we attack, we blow the place up from both sides. It’s going to be delicious.”

Sun Is Shining lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

So, if you ask me why I like the way I play it
There's only one thing I can say to you
I want to rock!(Rock!)
Twisted Sister – I Wanna Rock
*Sunnydale University campus*
Something was wrong.
Spike had been working at the coffee shop for a couple of weeks now, biding his time, keeping an ear out, blending in. Buffy had come in almost daily, sometimes even twice a day. He could tell he was on her radar by the stiffening of her shoulders, and the quick sweeps she did with her eyes whenever he was near, but so far she didn’t seem to make the connection between him and whatever her slayer senses were telling her. Maybe his numerous trips to the sunlit windows had something to do with it.
He’d started keeping tabs more and more on her: the way she dressed, how she talked, what she ate, her favorite drink, her voice… her laugh. He could tell when she’d patrolled all night, when she’d gotten a good night sleep, and when she was antsy for a good slay. The last one was the easiest one since it was very similar to his current mood. He hadn’t had a good brawl in ages. The demons down at Willy’s were too scared to take on the Master of Sunnydale, and he couldn’t show his face around the Initiative hunting grounds since he was one of the secret agents, alongside some human looking demons.
God, but he missed the sound of bones breaking.
With a start he realized he hadn’t even hunted since he’d gotten the Gem. He’d fed off some people and drunk a few blood bags the minions had brought to the lair, but he hadn’t actively pursued a victim since before the final stretch of the dig. In fact his previous few kills had all been against other demons. He put the information away to think about later, as for the moment he had something else to focus on: the Slayer was behaving strange.
She’d stumbled in the coffee shop almost as if she were drunk – she did smell like she’d had a few pints, as well as something else, though – and she was busy sniffing each and every single one of the sugar and spice packs on the counter. She also seemed to have trouble with opening the ketchup and mustard bottles. When Mary, who was working the counter for the post-dinner rush crowd, asked the Slayer what she could give her, all she got was a grunt in response.
Spike’s curiosity got the better of him, so he broke one of his cardinal rules and went closer to the Slayer to investigate. He found himself pressed against the counter with the Slayer crowding, poking, and sniffing all over him. It was weird, uncomfortable, and arousing at the same time. Still, he caught her wrist when she tried to wiggle her hand under the waistband of his God-awful shorts. She tried to break loose of his hold and frowned at him when she couldn’t.
“Boy strong.”
If that didn’t blow his cover nothing would. Then again, maybe whatever the Slayer was on that made her act as she did would make it so she’d forget the details. He let go of her hand and took a step back to prevent her renewed attempt to feel him up. She cocked her head to the side and seemed to be studying him. She licked her lips and bared her teeth.
Well that got the demon going nicely, thank you. When she cupped her own breasts and thrust her chest out there wasn’t anything to scoff at, either.
“That’s bloody it. Johnny, I’m taking a break.” Not bothering to listen to the manager’s reply, he grabbed Buffy by the hand and dragged her out of the diner. Whatever was going on, it was quickly turning into a show not meant for the general public.
He walked a couple of blocks, Slayer in tow, until he reached a small empty playground. Once there, he let go of her hand and whirled around to confront her. “Care to tell me what is going on in that noggin of yours?”
She cocked her head again, then started looking left and right.
“Anything you’re searching for?”
Her gaze locked on his again, then she broke out in a grin, and started pawing at her jeans.
“What are you doing, you dozy bint?”
She grunted at him and cupped her tits again. She then pointed back and forth between the front of his shorts and her half-open fly.
Oh. “Sl—Buffy, I don’t know what you think this is, pet, but I wasn’t trying to—”
She’d apparently decided talking was overrated, and jumped on top of him, his surprised yelp swallowed by her mouth as she kissed the unliving daylights out of him. She was a good kisser.
Spike’s brain shorted out. He knew something had happen to make the Slayer not play with a full deck, but with her on top of him, writhing over his body, and her tongue in his mouth, he found he didn’t really care what it was. So he matched her passion with his own, gave as good as he got, and let his hands roam her body while she tried to get his clothes out of her way.
She managed to push his shirt halfway up his torso and proceeded to kiss, lick, and—gods be damned—nibble her way down his throat, and then all over his abdomen. One particular harder bite right under his ribs brought up his demon and his face shifted. Their eyes locked, she smirked, and ripped open his cargo shorts.
A small part of his brain acknowledged he’d be charged for the damaged uniform. Another waved goodbye to his cover. The rest was busy imagining all the things he wanted to do with and to her to bring her pleasure.
Of course, all of that went out the door when, with a small victorious sound, she fished out his cock from his ruined shorts and wrapped her lips around it. His demon eyes took her in as she worked her lips on his erection. The contrast between the warmth of her mouth and the outside air whenever she withdrew was a completely new sensation for him, since Dru’s temperature matched his own, and it was something that only managed to push him ever closer to a roaring orgasm. Once the telltale sign of a faint tingling started in his balls, he couldn’t keep quiet anymore, and gave himself over to her.
“Yes, please. God, so hot, perfect. Deeper, yes, again. That’s a good girl. Suck on the tip. God, yes. Now lick the underside. Never mind, that’s even better. God, is that? Are you going to try to take me all in? Oh my, Slayer!” He yelled her title out while he emptied his load in her mouth, sparks of pleasure travelling all over his body. She lapped at his cock a bit more, then let it slip out and gave it an almost chaste kiss. Her eyes then travelled up his body and locked on his.
She looked damn smug. Well, two could play that game. He dragged her up his frame, kissed her until she pulled back to breathe, and then rolled them over so she was under him. He slithered down her body, kissing any and all skin he came across, until he reached her jeans. He made a spectacle of popping the button and sliding the zipper down while she watched him with wide eyes.
He took moment to steady himself, and slid both her jeans and underwear down her legs, but since he hadn’t bothered to take off her shoes, he couldn’t finish the job. He shrugged, since he didn’t need to do anything more for what he had in mind. He raised her feet up in the air and then toward her head, keeping her knees spread with his hands, before he looked down at the prize waiting for him between her now spread thighs. His mouth watered watching her slick pussy lips spread slightly open because of the position.
There was a soft keening noise coming from her and her hips started moving on their own accord. “Boy, in.”
He chuckled, more to buy himself a bit of time and get a grip on his own raging desire. “Don’t worry, kitten. Big Bad’s got you and I won’t leave you hanging.”
He got closer to the source of the greatest smell in all the world at that particular time, and licked his lips. She was going to be delicious.
With feather light touches he started to map out the contours of her labia and her clit hood. He added more pressure as he went round and around, paying more and more attention to both the clit and her vaginal opening. He ever so slowly lapped deeper at her opening, until his tongue had gone as far inside her as it could go. She was moaning and grunting when she put her hands on her knees and spread them even wider apart, freeing his hands in the process.
He licked, shook his head, and growled with his tongue still inside her, while he brought his left hand to rub at her clit. He tried to reach her tits with his right hand, but the logistics just wouldn’t work, so he opted instead for fondling her ass cheek and giving her short, sharp slaps at random intervals. By the way she gasped and threw her head back every time he did it, she was more than okay with it.
Her first orgasm came as a whirlwind, with her hands all of a sudden trapping his head in place and her wail of completion all but muffled by the flesh of her legs which were now gripping him tight. She was all rigid and trembling as she rode it out.
Once she allowed him to disengage and grabbed her knees again, he slowly switched positions between his left hand and his mouth, and set off to make her come once more. With her clit trapped between his lips, he introduced first one, then two, and finally a third finger inside her drenched channel, using his thumb and pinky to open up her folds even wider for him. As he felt her getting closer to her climax, he took a chance and brushed two fingers from his right hand over her currently very spread and inviting back door. He was rewarded with one of her hands grabbing hold on his hair and pushing him harder against her flesh, so he added some pressure to the fingers probing her ass, without actually breeching.
She wailed like a banshee as she came. This time, once it was over, her legs fell limply on his back and her hands dropped to the side. She looked worn out, but happy. Pulling away from her at that moment was the hardest thing he’d done in his entire life and unlife until that point, topping his previous greatest achievement of killing the two Slayers. His cock was hard as a rock and pulsing with need, the woman in front of him was ready and ripe for the taking, but a nagging at the back of his mind managed to break through: something wasn’t right with Buffy.
If he took her then it would make him no better than his wanker or a grandsire. Cursing himself for a fool, he pulled up his shorts and somehow managed to rig them to stay up, then redressed the mellow Slayer despite her grunts of protest, and picked her up.
Going over his options, the only valid one he could come up with was to take her to her dorm. Since the room had been signed over in her name, it counted as her residence, so he wouldn’t be able to step inside, despite the fact that the dorm itself was open to all. His plan, therefore, was simple: take the overly-amorous Slayer to her room, shove her in, close the door and make sure she doesn’t get out until she gets better, or her mates fix whatever influenced her. He wouldn’t be able to get in and do something they’d both regret, and she would stay out of trouble. Then everything would be right as rain. Right?
~~~***~~~
*Buffy and Willow’s room, Stevenson Hall, USC – Sunnydale campus, a few minutes later*
The bloody door was closed, he didn’t have a key, and he couldn’t afford to break it down. What he did have was an arm full of squirming Slayer intent on getting into his pants. Bugger.
Out of frustration he kicked the door, though not hard enough to damage it. He almost dropped his cargo when it opened to reveal Buffy’s red-headed friend.
Willow’s eyes got very big when she saw them and she made a tiny, high-pitched noise. “Oh my God, I was just about to head out and look for you, Buffy.” She looked back up at Spike. “What happened? Xander called and said she’d drank something.” She shook her head. “Never mind now, come in, and put her on the bed.”
Great, there went his plan out the window. Still, maybe he could pawn the Slayer off on her friend and make his exit before he did something he’d regret.
“Wait, do I know you?” The question brought Spike up short, allowing Buffy to shove her hand past his barely fastened waistband and grab his cock. Willow’s eyes got really big and she let out a squeak.
“I work at the coffee shop on campus. She came in, acting all strange, and I thought I’d better take her to her room than have her flash the whole place.” He managed to grab the hand busy giving him one of the most awkward of hand-jobs. “My plan was to let her sleep it off, but that’s not what she’s very inclined to do, is it?” He looked to Willow for help. “Anything you could do about this? I don’t think she’s really in the driver’s seat.”
“Of, Goddess. Buffy, why don’t you leave the good man’s, uh, man-parts alone and come sit down on your bed?”
When Willow put a hand on Buffy’s shoulder, the Slayer snarled and bared her teeth at her. “Boy mine.”
Spike’s demon was more than a little impressed, but he had to remind himself he’d already stepped over the line. As he felt Buffy’s body coil for a lunge at the perceived threat, Spike spun them both around and landed on her bed, using his weight to keep her in place. He addressed Willow, but kept his eyes on the Slayer. “So, any thoughts?”
“Well, uh, see, Xander—he’s a friend of ours—said there was an, uh, issue with the…”
“I know about demons, Red, out with it.”
She sighed in what must have been relief. “Okay, so Xander said Buffy drank some enchanted beer that makes people turn all Stone Age. He and Giles caught the guy who did it and got rid of the beer, but other than letting it wear off, there’s not much we can do.”
“So…”
Willow made to get closer to Buffy’s bed, but her friend growled at her. ”Boy mine. Go.”
“So I guess I’ll stay over here, on my side of the room, and you try to…”
Spike risked a glance at the girl and saw she was at a loss. “And I try to keep her from getting our clothes off. Got it.”
“Yeah.”
Out of any other ideas, Spike decided to sing to Buffy, hoping it would soothe and get her to sleep, as it used to do to Dru. Pretty soon she drifted off, and he found himself unable to resist the pull to rest either.

I Wanna Rock lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Hello, I love you
Won't you tell me your name?
Hello, I love you
Let me jump in your game
The Doors – Hello, I love you

Buffy woke up with a headache worse than the one she got when she was infected by the mind-reading demon. Beer was definitely of the bad. In fact, she might shy away from the whole alcohol thing altogether. She risked opening her eyes for a fraction of a second, only to shut them tight again once she realized she was in her own dorm room, with Willow still sleeping in the other bed. Thank God for small miracles. Now if only she could get her body to cooperate and move, she might be able to go to the bathroom to wash off some of the hurt.
She tried to move her arms, only for the weight holding her down to shift slightly. Wait. That feeling wasn’t just beer induced exhaustion, it was…
Her eyes flew open and she took in her situation, despite feeling daggers embed themselves in her retinas. She was in her room, in her bed, dressed, but with a strange guy on top of her. A strange guy who was snoring lightly. Ohmygod.
What had she done after getting drunk, or whatever that was? Trying to remember only made the headache worse, so she let it go for the moment in order to focus on the more important part of getting to the bathroom.
After some wiggling and shuffling, she managed to slide the guy onto her bedspread—they’d been sleeping on top of the covers, so another point in the plus column as opposed to the mountain of minuses—and dash to the restroom. Once she was done inside, she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and brushed her teeth again for good measure. She would have taken a shower too, but she was too curious as to who the guy was to lose any more time.
In her room nothing had changed, so she planted herself next to her bed and got ready to wake up Mr. Sleeps-a-lot. He was kinda cute, at least. One more plus, but still dwarfed by the minuses.
Not knowing what to expect, she settled for poking him in the shoulder with her index finger. “Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”
The only reply was a grunt and her ‘guest’ turned away from her, cuddling her pillow instead. It was kinda adorable, although not what she wanted him to do.
“Excuse me, I think you’re in my bed and I’d like that to, you know, not be true anymore.” She poked him some more, this time lower on his torso, getting him in the ribs instead. The guy reacted by giving a startled yelp and batting away at her hands. Someone is ticklish. His eyes were wild as they roamed about, and then his gaze locked on hers. Pretty blue eyes.
“How’re you feeling, love?”
And he has an accent. Okay, so maybe her taste in guys was okay even under the influence, but that still didn’t mean she should ever have beer again. Ever. “I’m hung over. What happened last—” She checked outside only to find everything was dark. ”whenever?”
Mystery guy chuckled, and stretched out like a big cat. “From what Red said, the local watering hole’s something or other decided it was too much dealing with you coeds, so he put some enchanted beer in the keg which was supposed to turn the lot into prehistoric morons. Your friend, Xander, figured it out, and stopped it with help from another chap, Giles. Red was just about to go looking for you when we got here.” His eyes shifted to the bedspread. “That’s pretty much it.”
He was lying, or leaving some things out, and she dreaded finding out more. Still, better to know than to imagine. “So what did I do?”
“Well, you came into the coffee shop—it’s where I work, by the way—and were acting all ‘fire pretty.’ I thought it best to take you home, since I knew the address from the deliveries we do around here.”
Better, but there was still more. Also, her Slayer senses were going berserk, so there was possibly someone, or something, close by. She scanned the window, but couldn’t make out anything. “So you took me straight here.”
Out of the blue, an image of her tackling him in a playground rose in her mind. Oh God. Had she really done that? She remembered trying to get his pants off him and the frustration when they wouldn’t yield. With a squeaky voice, she asked the question she dreaded the most. “Did something happen?”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Finally, he sighed deep and started speaking. “You were very set on getting your way. I’d stopped in an abandoned playground to ask what was wrong and you… I’m sorry, I was weak.”
Oh God. She’d forced herself on him. Was he even here, in her room by choice, or had she restrained him somehow, her stone-age brain marking him as her, what, sex slave? “I’m so sorry.”
He looked confused. “What? No, I’m sorry. I should have never let it get that far. It’s just… when a pretty bird is dead set on blowing you, there’s only so much blood going the right way. Still, you weren’t in your right mind, so I’m to blame for that. I never should have gone down on you after that. I should have stopped you somehow and taken you home. I’m sorry. I just wanted to…” He looked at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. “I wanted to make you feel good. At least once.”
“You wanted to put your mouth… down there?” She cast a worried glance over at Willow, but her friend was sleeping with her mouth open and a bit of drool could be seen out of the corner of her mouth. Nobody faked that.
“Of course I did. Tasting you was a revelation, it was one of the greatest experiences in my unlife.”
Only Faith had ever gone down on her, so she was at least partially pissed off she’d missed it. Had it been different with a guy? Was he better or worse than the other slayer? She shook off her lusty thoughts to focus on the problem at hand, such as what he’d let slip: unlife. Of course, as soon as she thought it, the memories came flooding back. Everything from the first sip of beer to the lullaby he’d sung to her while holding her in her bed. The part in between was confusing, but most of all it was scary.
The attraction she’d felt for him, the way her lust had built up to boiling in no time flat, how she’d felt the need to have him… She’d given him a blowjob while he had his demon face on. She’d done things with him while knowing, at least on some level, that he was a vampire. She was in her room, in her bed, with a vampire.
She scrambled to get away and automatically reached for a stake. The vampire in her bed didn’t move.
“Easy, love. I’m not going to hurt you.”
She snorted. “You’re a vampire, why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I could have drained both you and your mousy friend over there dry a thousand times over today, but I didn’t. Shouldn’t that say something?”
“It says you suck at your job. Or don’t suck at it.” She shook her head in frustration. “You suck.”
“And quite well, as you seem to now remember.” He did a thing with his tongue behind his teeth that should have reminded her about the fangs he was hiding. Instead it brought a jolt of lust to her core. Ugh, that should so not be happening.
“You’re just a spring allergy waiting to happen.”
He moved faster than she thought him capable of, standing next to her all of a sudden, holding the hand she’d been searching for a stake with in an iron grip. He leaned in closer, so his breath tickled her skin when he talked. “Listen, Slayer. I’ve been serving you coffee and minding my own business for weeks. I’m not going to randomly start snacking on you and yours, so stop playing the bitch and let’s talk about this.”
She put all her slayer steel in her voice. “Let go of me.”
“Not until you promise to play nice.” He ghosted his free hand up her side. “I know that you can, and I’d really like to show you how nice I can play.”
Her mind went to a highlight reel of their oral encounter. Okay, who cranked up the heater? She couldn’t risk it though. With her free hand she found a stake on her bedside desk, so she brought it up as fast as she could and pointed it at him. Part of her wanted him to stop her, and that was what scared her more than the knowledge he’d had the perfect opportunity to make her his lunch.
He slapped the stake away from her hand. “You bitch.” He made a move as if he were about to lunge, then stopped, waivered, and spun around. He was taking big, gulping breaths.
“Buffy?” Willow was up and watching them from her bed.
“I…”
The vampire whirled around. “Look, you infuriating bint, I’ll let the stake slide, but just this one time. You ever try something like that again, and you’ll find out what I can really do.” He closed his eyes in an obvious attempt to reign in his temper. When he opened them again, his gaze gave her a shiver. “Name’s Spike, ring any bells?”
There was a half-formed memory trying to emerge, but she was so off-balanced with the emotional roller-coaster of the previous few minutes, that she couldn’t focus. The ever-present headache didn’t help either.
“Helped you grind old Bat-faces’ bones to dirt back in the day?”
How hadn’t she recognized him before? The weird vampire who came in, rocked her world, then left, along with her sorta-kinda-boyfriend. She’d studied his history after they’d left. The Whirlwind, the Scourge of Europe, his two killed Slayers, his over a century of devotion to Drusilla, and his intricate relationship with Angel. “You.”
“Yeah, me.” He straightened his shoulders, and all of a sudden he seemed more imposing. “I’m the Master of Sunnydale, and since the cards are on the table, I’d like to propose a truce.” He smirked. “You know I keep my word.”
It was getting too much for her throbbing head to process, so she sat down on her bed. “You want a truce.”
He nodded and for a moment he reminded her of an eager puppy. “Yes, that’s exactly it. Look, I know you know there are some supernatural commandoes operating on your watch, getting in your way, and robbing you of your slays.” He poked a thumb at Willow. “My guys saved your friend and her wolf from one of their patrols just a couple of weeks ago.”
That made Buffy call up on her energy reserves. She pinned him with a glare. “What do you know?”
“A lot more than you, I’d wager. I’m willing to share everything if you agree to the truce.”
Buffy chanced a glance at Willow, only to find her friend nodding in agreement. She remembered the event Spike mentioned. Willow had been a wreck, Oz had been caged because of the moon, and there were the bodies of three men dressed in night camouflage and with a whole slew of high tech gear dead in the crypt. Giles had shown up with a tranquilizer rifle, and she and Xander had carried the unconscious Oz to another crypt they knew could be locked. Giles and Anya had taken the almost catatonic Willow to Giles’s place where she’d told them of the weird fight that she’d witnessed. Buffy had staked out the crypt until another three-man team dressed the same as the dead guys had come to investigate. She’d been forced to leave when two more teams showed up, with a couple of four by four trucks and searchlights.
The Scoobies had tried to find out who they were, with little success, but apparently there was more to the story than a freak meeting under the full moon, as Giles had called it. “What are your terms?”
“Well, as the Master, I control, at least in part, all the vampires in the city. I also managed to get some demon tribes to help. I can tell my guys to stop hunting until the Initiative is taken care of, if you can promise to not attack my teams. I’ll give them some code word to tell you so you know they’re mine. Any other wankers you find attacking humans, have at them.”
It sounded good, maybe too good. She realized something, though. “What about the commandoes? Or anyone running into one of your ‘teams?’ Will your guys not kill them either?”
His smile was chilling. “The commandoes are fair game, and as for anyone stupid enough to show up in the middle of the night in a cemetery, or in the middle of the woods, well, we’ll just call them Darwin’s rejects and consider it a service to the gene pool.”
She thought about it. There would still be killing, she would still have to go out there and slay, and there was an added danger in the vampire-demon teams she’d have to let go. On the other hand she remembered Willow’s description of how close she and Oz had come to being taken to God knows where. “Deal.”
His predatory smile turned genuine and he rubbed his palms together. He sat down on the bed facing her and started talking. “See, there were these experiments done back in the day by some over-eager Nazis. I myself got tangled in the whole mess along with Angelus on a submarine headed for the States. Their plan was to use supernatural beings as soldiers for the Reich. The US Army must have gotten the paperwork thanks to the Dickless Forhead, and now they’re giving it the old College try themselves. Call it the Initiative, and their base is right under your feet, in an underground bunker. Their cover is the fraternity over at Lowell House, and some of their staff are teachers on campus. Maggie Walsh, your Psychology teacher is their leader, and her right hand enforcer is Riley Finn, her TA.”
Buffy’s ears started buzzing. What happened to the good old days of ‘see demon, slay demon?’ She would have to fight against humans alongside vampires. And not just any humans. “Riley talked to me a couple of days ago.” She felt a blush rising up in her cheeks. “He wanted us to go for a picnic.”
Spike roared. “No. You can’t go anywhere with that ‘just following orders’ git. If he realizes what you are...” He closed his eyes and shook once. He pinned her with his gaze again and al she could do was listen. “These people are trying to create super soldiers to fight for the fatherland. From what my sources say, there are experiments going on down there that would make Mengele look like amateur hour. Their soldiers are also enhanced, probably fed extract of demon with their ‘vitamins’ because they sure as hell aren’t normal human.” He grabbed her right hand in his left. “If they realize you’re exactly what they’re looking for – human with superpowers—they might start looking into how that is possible, using scalpels and other, uglier methods.”
“But I’m human.”
“They call us hostile sub-terrestrials, regardless of race, location, or intention. Makes them feel all superior, as the Nazis called all others Untermensch to justify treating them like garbage. What do you think they’ll call you?”
“Oh, Goddess.” Willow was white as a sheet, and Buffy had to wonder what stories she must have heard growing up. How many Rosenbergs had died by the hands of the people Spike was talking about?
She felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t even want to imagine he could be right, but then again, her instincts told her to trust him. “Okay, no picnics with the enemy, got it.” The corners of his mouth curved slightly upwards and she had to fight the impulse to kiss him. He was definitely interested, but she couldn’t let herself dwell on that. In fact, that reminded her of something else. “Speaking of which, whatever happened to Dru and Angel?”
He let go of her hand and seemed to draw in on himself. “It’s Angelus, love. Dru got rid of that pesky soul infestation he had, and they’ve ben bathing in the blood of innocents ever since.”
There was a lot more to the story, and it was clear he didn’t want to share, at least not at the time, but she had to prod him with one final question. “Why aren’t you with them, then?”
For the briefest of moments she could glimpse a well of sadness in his eyes, but as soon as it came, it was gone, replaced by the mask of the uncaring vampire. “Had twenty years of listening to the two of them fucking back in the day, I don’t need to add twenty more. I’m my own man, Slayer, best you remember that.”
“I won’t forget.”
They agreed to meet up the next day at Giles’s place, and he left holding his shorts up with one hand. Part of her wished she’d done a better job of ripping them, since she’d never actually gotten a good look at his ass. Bad Cave-Buffy.

Hello, I Love You lyrics © Doors Music Company

Walk without rhythm, it won't attract the worm
Walk without rhythm, and it won't attract the worm
Walk without rhythm, and it won't attract the worm
If you walk without rhythm (uh), you never learn
Fatboy Slim – Weapon of choice

Spike was livid. “Fucking Slayer.” He was in full game-face, decked in his usual black-on-black with the duster on top, with the added detail of a beanie on his head to cover his hair. He was still playing the undercover agent, since the Sunnydale Denial Factor meant he’d just walked in to work the next day after the ‘beer incident’ and there had been no questions asked.
The détente with the Slayer had started out as well as could be expected: her friends wanted to stake him, while his minions wanted to drain her. It’d taken a bit of threatening, posturing, and bribing, but he’d gotten his people to play along. What she’d done to convince her troupe wasn’t clear, but they accepted the truce at least.
He thought things would have been even better between him and the Slayer when he’d gone by the Watcher’s to warn them of an uptick in commando activity—apparently the reinforcements had arrived—and he’d had to help her take care of some vengeful Native American spirits. She’d even fed him from the turkey she’d cooked and hadn’t even batted an eye when he’d used blood as gravy.
Of course, that’d meant more time spent with her, and her group of White Hats. Hell, he’d even tried to comfort Red when her wolf left to ‘find himself.’ And what was the result? Was it a reenactment of their time in the playground, only with both willing subjects, and maybe a bed, some strawberries, chocolate syrup, and time to go further? No. The farthest they’d gone was a few shy glances from her when she thought he wasn’t watching, her blushing and calling him a pig whenever he suggested anything involving less clothes, and lots of pretty spirited banter. That wasn’t a problem, though, since Spike could play the long game if he had to. The problem was that the Slayer was stubborn as a mule and had rot instincts.
Buffy was going out for a picnic with Riley. No mater what Spike had said to discourage her, and despite his repeated warnings, she’d gotten it in that infuriating head of hers that the only way to find out more about what the Initiative was doing was to have someone on the inside, or be close to someone in it. She’d offered to try to get ‘close’ to the big lug, and the rest of her band of merry do-gooders had stupidly supported that idea, and had overwritten his concerns—tastefully raised as they had been, with the barest amount of ‘bloodys’ and ‘soddings’ thrown in for emphasis.
Well that’s not how it would play out, if Spike had anything to do about it. He wouldn’t just sit by and watch her make googly eyes at the member of an organization that would probably see her as a Guinea pig at the most, and spare parts at the least. So instead he had set up an ambush for Finn, he’d take him out, and stop him from drooling over his Slayer every time he saw her.
Because yes, dammit, she was his Slayer. No matter what he’d set out to do when he first rolled into town, no matter that the whole war with the Initiative had started simply because they were an obstacle on his route to his next Slayer kill—three in a century would mean there would probably be songs written about him until some over-eager son of a demon bitch finally managed to end the world—the fact of the matter was that the thing that kept him up at night was the overwhelming need to feel her quim strangle his cock at least once before everything was said and done. Well, that and the fact that he barely needed any sleep with the Gem on.
Which is why he was in a cemetery for the first time in more than a month, hunting for humans.
There was movement ahead and he slipped into stealth mode. He stalked forward until he could see a group of three black clad figures trying and failing to move undetected. Spike smirked to himself. It was time to play. He’d been looking forward to this for a long time, and he intended to have fun, especially considering how few fights he’d been in since he’d gotten the Ring.
He’d stretched his minions thin in order to make sure they were going after the right commandoes. Everything pointed to this being the right enemy, and he took a deep whiff to try and single out Captain Cardboard, but unfortunately the wind wasn’t blowing in the right direction.
He made his way to the top of a mausoleum and got ready to pounce. He gave the attack signal and jumped on top of who he thought was the leader of the team, hoping his landing would break something. He was rewarded with a howl of pain from the unfortunate soul to break his fall. The other two turned on him, but he was ready for them.
What followed was chaos.
Before any blows could be exchanged, his minions burst through the bushes, providing the flank attack and element of surprise meant to ensure victory. At almost the same time, though, a couple of demons rounded the corner of a crypt at what must have been full speed for them, while the Slayer was hot on their trail, double wielding a stake and a knife. Next thing he knew, one of the demons and one commando were dead, a couple of his minions were dust, and there was a free for all fight going on, where the only ones not actively trying to kill each other were Buffy and him. Oh, the irony.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught more movement and realized a second Initiative team was coming to the aid of the first one. He could hear the commandoes calling in for even more reinforcements. The whole thing had turned into a royal fuck-up, so he did the only thing left. He grabbed Buffy by the hand and dragged her away from where the last remaining demon was being boxed in by two soldiers, while the minions were beating a hasty retreat themselves.
After a few minutes of full out sprint, they ducked into an empty crypt to get out of sight of any pursuers they hadn’t left behind. Once inside, Buffy yanked her hand out of his and poked him in the chest. “What did you do?”
“I took us out of there as fast as I could.”
She frowned and made a slashing gesture with her hand. “Not that, I get why we had to run. The question is why did we had to run? Why were you there, already fighting with the commandoes when I came along?”
Great. “I was trying to prevent you from getting a front row seat at what the Initiative is capable of.”
“We already discussed this: I want a front row seat, or at least a back row one. We need to find out more, and we agreed the only way is for me to try to get Riley to tell me…” She narrowed her eyes and pointed to the closed door. “Was that Riley you were attacking?”
Busted. “We didn’t agree, you insisted, and you are wrong.”
“So, what, you decided to save me from my mistake? It’s my mistake to make, buster.”
“Not if it gets you killed, you stubborn, pig-headed…”
“O-ho, look who-s talking about pigs, the king of all the swine in existence. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I don’t need anyone saving me. I do the saving around here, you got that?”
“Oh, boo-hoo, the one girl in all the realm is suffering from a superiority complex, how very unoriginal of you, Slayer. This time you’re wrong.”
“Wrong or right, it’s my choice to make, you’re not the boss of me.”
“Oh, of course not, I’m just ol’ Spike, only good for stringing along, not good enough to actually have an opinion, how could I forget?”
“Wait, what? You have and opinion about everything, and no mouth filter.” She shook her head a bit. “And what do you mean, string along? I haven’t been stringing anyone along. In fact, you’ve been all innuendo-y and no follow-through-y. If anyone is strung, it’s me.”
“You… but I… argh!” He gave up on logic, common sense, and any other obstacle that he’d put in front of himself. Instead, he took a step forward, grabbed Buffy by the waist and crashed his mouth into hers in a bruising, desperate kiss.
They made out like their lives depended on it, and he couldn’t get enough. Her taste, her smell, and the little noises she made in the back of her throat as they kissed were driving him wild. He started roaming his hands over her body, finding the hem of her shirt with and slipping underneath it with his fingers. Her skin was warm, soft, and possibly one of the greatest things he’d ever touched.
She was just as busy, feeling him up, groping him, and pressing herself to him. When she pulled back from their kiss to breathe, her hands moved to the front of his pants, rubbing up and down and trailing upwards to his pants button.
He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything else in his unlife. Scary, considering his initial goal had been to kill her. Ah, but to be young and stupid. He shed his duster as fast as he could, then got rid of his shirt while she unbuttoned his pants and grabbed his cock. Her hand felt so hot, he groaned thinking what an inferno her pussy must be like. He couldn’t wait to find out.
He was brought out of his fantasy by her using her mouth and teeth to worry his throat in tandem with the hand she was stroking his cock with. God, but she was the perfect woman. In fact, she felt so good he was fast approaching an enormous orgasm.
He had to turn the tables. He’d come first the previous time, so now he would take care of her, good and proper. And she was wearing too many clothes still—something he needed to rectify at once. He dropped to his knees, stifling a groan when her hand lost contact with his cock. Okay, so his plan did have some drawbacks, but the tantalizing scent he could sense when he got closer to her pussy, covered as it was, made it worth it.
He wasted no time getting her out of her jeans—it was lucky she was a slayer, otherwise she would have toppled over when he yanked one of the pant-legs free—and then ripped apart her panties. “Missed your quim.” He didn’t wait for her to acknowledge what he’d said, and dove right in to lap at her glistening labia.
God, but she was wet. Very responsive too. As soon as he started eating her out in earnest, she was moaning and groaning more than she’d done as a cave-woman. Her hands were in his hair, pulling and pushing him into her. He was desperate to make her come, but at the same time he wanted to learn how to please her. He tested different speeds and pressures with his tongue and lips, and he scraped lightly at her skin with his human teeth, until she came, her sounds of pleasure stifled by the hand she’d put over her mouth.
He hated the soldiers even more now. A creature such as his slayer shouldn’t have to worry how loud she was when she came. He didn’t have time to dwell on that thought for long, as she dragged him up her body, hungrily attaching his mouth with hers, while at the same time grabbing his cock and positioning it at her entrance.
On the many lonely times when it was just him and his hand, he’d imagined he’d sink into her slowly, relishing every inch he went deeper. That he’d look into her eyes and enjoy the feelings he could glimpse in them. No wonder he was bollocks as a poet. Reality wasn’t filled with such romantic crap. In reality he pushed himself in her in one, long thrust and held there, with such a feeling of completion he could weep. She clung to him, from her mouth still pressed to his, to her hands holding him tight, and to her legs wrapped around his waist.
His brain had short-circuited, but his instincts took over. He started moving his hips, first in short, shallow thrusts, then with ever increasing strength and amplitude. Soon enough he was giving her all he had, and she rewarded him with a series of pleasured gasps. He wasn’t going to last long. How could he? He had to make it good for her though. He pushed all the way inside her and gave slow thrusts, barely moving in place, but keeping her filled with him. “Are you close, kitten? Will you come for me?”
Her reply was a gasp and full body shudder as she went over the edge. The contractions of her pussy on his cock broke through the last of his resolve and he came deep inside her.
He stayed inside her until he was confident enough he wouldn’t just crumble into a heap, then rolled them over and cuddled her to him. God, but he loved her like this: covered in a sheen of sweat, chest heaving with her deep breaths, eyes half-closed, and hair wild from their lovemaking. A thought struck him out of the blue. He loved her. Like this or otherwise, he—the bloody foolish Slayer of Slayers—had fallen for a Chosen bird. He looked at her snuggling to get more comfortable. He’d fallen for Buffy.
She raised her gaze to his and smiled. Okay, there were a lot of worst things to be in the world than in love with Buffy Summers. Spike smiled back and gave her a kiss. Then he opened his mouth and words came out. “Now that you’re over that idea of meeting Captain Cardboard, we can work together on another plan to get more information from those sadists.”
Her head snapped back as if he’d slapped her. “You bastard. You… how dare you?” She got up from on top of him and started looking for her clothes. “No, actually, this is on me. Stupid Buffy forgets the cardinal rule: sleep with her and turn into the world’s greatest ass.” She fixed him with a gaze full of hate, somehow made even more terrible by her state of half-dress. “Using this… using me just to convince me to not meet up with the commandoes? I knew you were a vampire, Spike, but this was the most soulless thing you have done.”
It was as if all the air in the crypt had been sucked out and he desperately needed to fill his lungs but couldn’t. He’d seen the happiness and light in Buffy’s eyes turn into dismay and anger. He’d realized what was about to happen as he finished his sentence, but her reaction was still shocking. He lashed out before he knew what he was doing. “Well at least I’m not a stubborn bitch with a death wish.”
She finished buttoning her jeans, although her fly was still undone, and her shirt was inside out when she finally managed to get both hands through the sleeves. “Goodbye, William.” She walked out without looking back, and slammed the door behind her.
He watched her go, a painful hole opening up in his heart, but didn’t follow. He wanted to ask forgiveness, he wanted to tell her she’s being stupid, he wanted to tell her he loved her, and he just wanted another taste of her lips. Instead he wailed his despair and decided to get sloshed.

I can't stand it I know you planned it
I'm gonna set it straight, this “Watergate”
I can't stand rocking when I'm in here
Because your crystal ball ain't so crystal clear
Beastie Boys - Sabotage

*Sunnydale campus, next day*
Buffy was still angry and confused about last night’s events, so when she literally ran into Riley on her way to the other side of campus to get her caffeine fix from someplace that Spike wasn’t working at, it took her a few seconds to recover. His hands lingered on her body a bit too much for her comfort, but she decided to shake the feeling off and try to be as charming as possible. “Oh, hi, sorry, I was just running a bit late and…” She plastered her best fake cheerleader smile on. “Hi, Riley.”
He gave her a half-grin and scratched the back of his neck. “Um, hi Buffy. I was just thinking about you.”
“Really?” She hated that batting her eyelashes at what was a perfectly human guy kinda made her feel like she was cheating on… She stopped her brain from going there and refocused on the discussion.
“Yeah, see, we’d said we’d go out for a picnic, and it’s such lovely weather that I was thinking: why wait?” He looked past her for a moment before speaking again. “I mean, we could just go now, what do you think?”
“Well, I was just on my way to get some coffee and maybe a bagel.”
“Nonsense, we’ll go by my dorm, grab some things, and have that picnic. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He didn’t really wait for her to answer before he started walking on the way to Lowell House, using a hand on her back to guide her along.
Despite feeling a bit uneasy about the whole thing, she’d go through with it. If nothing else, that should show Spike.
***
Riley ushered her in the front door of his fraternity. Or maybe it wasn’t a fraternity. She hadn’t really noticed any Greek letters anywhere. Oh, right, they were just posing as students.
The door closed behind her. “Hey guys, look who I brought to visit: Buffy Summers. Try to make her feel welcome.”
Her senses went on high alert all of a sudden. Something wasn’t right. She looked around the room and realized she was trapped. There were at least ten men there, and they were all looking at her as if she were the enemy.
She heard the lock of the door click shut and dodged the first attack before she registered it was coming, and sent one guy sailing into the far wall.
She tried to dodge and weave her way to jump out the window, but all of a sudden every cell in her body exploded in pain. She was being Tazered. She kept crawling to the window as wave after wave of pain engulfed her. Her last conscious thought was a curse. Why the hell did Spike have to be right?
***
She came to with a groan. Everything hurt worse than it had after she’d had a building blown almost on top of her to stop the Mayor. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on her surroundings.
It took a couple of minutes, but she managed to make everything stop spinning. Maybe she shouldn’t have tried so hard. She was in a white cell, with one clear wall through which she could see other identical cells, each holding some sort of demon.
The Initiative had her. Which meant the glass was also electrified, and the walls were reinforced. She did another sweep of the cell and let out a relieved sigh when she noticed it did have a toilet. Sure, actually going there would be tricky with the lack of cover from the opening, but at least she had somewhere to relieve herself.
A female voice suddenly filled the room. “Good, you’re awake.”
She looked around trying to figure out who was talking. The only thing she could see was a camera trained on her. Great. Now she’d have to make sure she’d be covered both from the door, and from the camera.
“We know you can talk, Buffy, so the silent treatment won’t win you anything.”
She’d play the dumb blonde card. “Is this some sort of fraternity hazing thing?”
A male snort came through the speaker, only for it to be quickly replaced with Walsh’s annoyed voice—yes, it was the same one Buffy was used to hearing in class. “You can stop pretending. We already know you’re not human, so please, enlighten me, what are you?”
Well, that went nowhere fast. She almost answered. Almost. The words were right there, on the tip of her tongue: Slayer, comma The, look it up. Just that she had Spike’s voice whispering in the back of her head, telling her that she was exactly what the Nazis were after: human plus. They’d keep her down here and do things to her until they killed her, looking to find what it was that made her… her. Probably not stop once she was dead either. A chill went up her spine. What if they decide to try turning her once they were out of ideas? She bit back the bile rising in her throat. “What I am is a human being with friends, family, and rights. You better let me go right now, or you will all regret it.”
There was nothing for what felt like forever. “We shall see. I suggest you rest, we begin testing tomorrow.”
The voice was so cold, so clinical it made Buffy afraid in a way she hadn’t felt since the Council had taken her powers and it had almost cost her both her life and her mother’s.
Then there was a tap on one of the side walls and she could barely hear someone whispering. “Don’t worry, Ma’am, the Master will get us all out. And don’t worry, nobody is telling them shit about shit.”
She couldn’t see who was speaking, but through the windowed pane she could see all the demons in the row of cells opposite hers looking at her in a way that spoke volumes: they were Spike’s Trojan Horse.
Spike, who had been right about everything.
She sat down and tried meditating as Giles had taught her. All she had to do was endure until her friends, or Spike came to the rescue, or until she could find a weakness she could exploit and get herself out. And she would be getting out. She didn’t only have hope now, she had a certainty, and a goal. Survive, then get revenge.
~~~***~~~
*Giles’s flat, later that night*
Being Buffy’s Watcher had never been an easy assignment. She was insubordinate, borderline rebellious, and unconventional at the best of times. What she wasn’t, though, was silent. The fact that nobody had seen or heard anything from her since the morning was worrisome to say the least.
Where could she be?
“Can I just point out to the elephant in the room and say—where’s Buffy?” Xander was fidgeting, and touching random items in the room.
Willow was perched on the edge of the couch, wringing her hands. “She hasn’t been in the dorm room all day. Guys, what if…?”
Xander sat down next to her and sighed deeply. “What if our resident evil bloodsucker decided to eat her?”
Jenny came out of the kitchen with a tray of tea. “If Spike had wanted Buffy dead, there would have been many more opportunities to do so. I don’t think he’s to blame.”
“Killing a third Slayer in less than a century would ensure songs would be sung in his honor until the final apocalypse.”
Anya’s bluntness made Giles wince, and he started wiping his glasses for the eleventh time that evening. Not that he was counting. “Yes, well, it would be perhaps wise if we were to at least contact him and find out if he knows anything.”
As if on cue, the front door was thrown open and Spike strode in, made himself comfortable on the couch, and put his booted feet on the table. “Missed me?”
Xander got up and started yelling. “What did you do with Buffy?”
Giles had been just about to ask the same thing, but instead got the chance to study the vampire. For the briefest of moments his usual indifferent mask fell away and he seemed concerned. Spike sneered and the indifferent monster was back to the fore. “Better watch who you’re throwing accusations at, whelp.” A muscle was ticking in his jaw. “When was it you lot last saw your Slayer?”
“Early this morning. She went for coffee and has yet to turn up.” Giles placed his glasses on his nose. “I believe you are employed at her usual haunt, are you not?”
“She never came by today. I thought…” He got up with preternatural speed. “You are all to blame if they hurt her.”
Giles’s heart skipped a beat. “You don’t mean…”
Willow started chanting ‘oh no’ over and over in the background.
“I don’t mean, I’m bloody saying it loud and clear: the Initiative got your Slayer, watcher. What are you going to do about it? Cause me? I’m gonna get her out.”
“Of course I want to get her out, if indeed that is what has befallen her, but we have no proof—”
“Proof? Last night she stumbled on a showdown between one of my teams and one of theirs, I got her out as fast as I could, but those wankers must have recognized her. Today she was supposed to meet up with one of them—bloody brilliant idea, by the way—and they must have decided to capture her instead.”
“But she’s human.” Xander’s voice sounded weak.
“No, she isn’t fucking human, as I keep telling you. She is the Chosen One. She’s catnip to those sadists, and the fact that even now you can’t see that just proves that you lot survived this far by sheer luck.”
“How do we know this isn’t just a trick? Maybe you have her stashed somewhere just so we help you take on the commandoes.” Xander stood toe to toe with Spike to make his accusation.
“You really think that I would chose to take away Buffy just so I can have a few humans without special powers, and a couple of small time witches help me? I’d laugh if it weren’t so sad.”
“What we need to do is make sure they have her.” Giles looked at Jenny and Willow. “We need to do a locator spell.”
“So you hadn’t done one until now because…?” Spike let the question trail off, and Giles couldn’t answer. The vampire was right. They should have done it hours ago.
Nobody spoke as the two practitioners prepared and performed the spell. Once it was done, the dot indicating Buffy’s life essence showed up on campus, before fizzling out, as if it hit static.
Jenny looked haggard as her gaze met Giles’s. “She’s somewhere around campus, but she’s shielded somehow. We can’t get a precise reading.”
Willow frowned. “What if we tweaked the spell? Maybe we could invoke a different entity.”
“No. Spells aren’t meant to be altered on a whim. They are binding covenants between the witch and the deity. Changing it would alter the result in ways that could be harmful. You know this, Willow.” Jenny put her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder.
“I know that, but… It’s Buffy.”
“And we will find her.”
“What if…”
“No if. The bastards won’t want to harm her… At least not in the beginning. They like to think themselves people of science, so they’ll want to test her. They’ll start off easy and work their way up. Since they never had a Slayer before, they won’t know what to expect, so it will take days, maybe even weeks until they start getting creative.” Spike looked grim. “We’ll get her out long before they harm her.” He fixed his gaze on Giles. “And they’ll pay for every second they have her down there.”
The threat was evident, but Giles couldn’t find it within himself to argue. Ripper would burn the place to the ground along with everyone in it if it meant getting Buffy back. As he contemplated it, something Spike said triggered an idea. “We need to call Faith.”
“The other Chosen bird?”
“As you said, we’ve lost our best warrior with Buffy’s disappearance, but we can get reinforcements of our own.” He glanced at the clock. Not that it mattered how late it was. A Slayer was as much a creature of the night as her prey. “Excuse me while I make the call.”
***
Faith’s evening had been rough. A string of robberies led her team to a demon run mafia organization, and it had taken all their skills and energy just to survive the fight. Thank God Gunn and his band had shown up when they did, otherwise things could have ended badly.
She had just sat down in her chair when the phone rang. She looked at it through the first two chimes, debating if she could just ignore it. In the end, her inner voice—the one that sounded suspiciously like Buffy—got her to move just enough to hit speaker. “You’ve reached ‘Faith for the Faithless,’ this is Faith speaking, what can I do for you?”
“Hi Faith, this is Giles.”
She frowned. A call this late from the watcher couldn’t mean anything good. “What happened?”
“We believe an army run program focusing on the supernatural seems to have captured Buffy with the possible intent to study her and try to replicate that which makes her unique for military purposes.”
“So what you’re saying is these guys want to take B apart to see what makes her tick so they can mass-produce universal soldiers? I guess that’s Sunnydale for you: never a dull moment.” She checked the clock mounted on the wall again. “I can be there in one hour, the rest will join in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t sweat it, Watcher-man. They made the ultimate mistake—they went after family.”

Come with me
Into the trees
We'll lay on the grass
And let the hours pass

Depeche Mode - Stripped

~~~***~~~

*Giles’s apartment, the next day*

Spike walked to the door and was just about to barge in as usual when somebody beat him to the punch and opened it wide for him. He didn’t have to wonder who it might be, since the power radiating off her could mean only one thing: Junior Slayer was present and accounted for. Good. They needed everyone to come together and focus on what was really important: getting Buffy back.

She marched out of the house without as much as a ‘by your leave,’ dragging him along with her by the arm until they were in the alley behind the building. Once there she squared up to him. She was full of piss and vinegar this one. Touched by a darkness that Buffy had been spared even after years of slaying. This was a girl, no woman that had seen some shit on top of shit before being called, and was still working on exorcizing her inner demons while killing the outer ones. She reminded him a bit of Nikki.

His sizing her up was rudely interrupted by her kicking him in the solar plexus. He bounced back ready for a fight, only to find her calmly resting against the alley wall, getting ready to light up. “What was that for, you deranged bint?”

“That was for sleeping with Buffy and making her cry afterwards.” She raised an eyebrow as if to challenge him. “Anything else you deserve some kicking for? I’m all worked up and ready to pummel something into the ground.” Despite her words, she took a careful drag out of her cigarette and exhaled slowly, making smoke circles.

He smirked. “Guess I had that coming.” He leaned against the opposite wall and light his own cigarette. “Didn’t figure she’d want to tell anyone how that went down.” He gestured with his hand towards the watcher’s building. “Or at least I thought she’d be more inclined to share with the White Hat Brigade. Considering they didn’t mention it even when they thought I’d been the one to spirit her away or off her, I guess she kept mum about it.” He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “So why you?”

She gave a short, hollow laugh. “Because her and me? We’re sisters. More than Slayers together, we share a connection.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

She looked pained for just one moment, before her indifferent mask was back on. “I made the same mistake you did once, and sometimes I regret how that played out. Other times I just feel so lucky to have her to talk to about anything that… well…”

If Spike had a heartbeat it would have stopped. “You and her…” He let out a low whistle. “That girl has more things to surprise me even when she isn’t here.”

She ground out her cigarette under her boot heel. “You care for her.”

“Well, yeah. ‘S why I’m here, innit?” He adopted a fake circus announcer tone. “Come to Sunnydale for the fight of your life, stay to fall for the enemy.”

She seemed taken aback at that. “So why tell me?”

He threw away his own butt. “I figure if she trusts you enough to tell you everything about me, I can trust you enough to tell you I’m all in.”

“You mean getting her back?”

“I mean I’m all in.” He took a step closer to her. “And I intend to fight for what’s mine.”

A genuine smile lit up her face. “Good. Now let’s get back to nerd central and figure out how to get our girl free.”

***

Everyone was there, researching, planning, strategizing, and in general doing everything they could to be useful so they could save her little girl. Joyce had proposed they go to the police and announce her daughter missing, but Giles had shot down the idea on the grounds that it hadn’t been 48 hours yet, and that the Sunnydale PD was infamous for being better suited at covering up crime and demon activity, than at doing anything remotely useful.

“What if I turned up there dressed as a Bobby and started asking questions? Maybe it would get me close enough to try and break her out.” Spike was pacing the room for the nth time while thinking out loud.

“They probably have files on every law enforcement member in town, and even if they don’t, the government does, and they’re part of that. So they could look you up and ‘kablamo’ everything could explode in your face.” Willow didn’t even look up from the laptop she was using to answer him.

It seemed strange to Joyce, the way these people—her daughter’s friends—interacted. In order to distract herself from the ever widening pit of worry about Buffy’s safe return, she decided to observe them for a bit.

There was some tension between Cordelia, Xander, Anya, and that man—Doyle—who came over with the LA crew. Of course, that was to be expected considering how things had ended between Buffy’s two former colleagues. The way Doyle looked at Cordelia, it was clear he had at least a crush on her.

Speaking of smouldering looks, the ones shared between the bad boy wannabe—Gunn—and Faith made her think about taking him aside and asking him about his intentions. That might actually be a bit amusing. Maybe if she got desperate enough she’d go ahead and do it. She wouldn’t be a very good pseudo-mother if she didn’t. Even if she couldn’t find and protect one of her girls, she could look into the guy trying to make his way in the other’s life.

She left that thought linger and comfort her for a bit. She frowned and tried to find something else to distract her. She noticed the way Wesley was interacting with the others, while being apart. She couldn’t really find it in herself to be too upset about that, since she still blamed him, at least in part, for the whole Cruciamentum disaster. Sure, he hadn’t been personally involved in trying to steal her baby’s power away, or putting her up against a criminally insane vampire, but he was part of the Council, and they were miserable bastards.

She’d barely had time to imagine that Travers person grovelling at their feet and asking for forgiveness when she realized they maybe could help. “What if the Council started putting some pressure on the US government?”

“Bloody brilliant idea, mum.” Spike whirled in place and pointed at Wesley. “You get in touch with your puppet masters. Tell them what’s going on here. I’m sure those stuffy gits will do anything to stop anyone else trying to dissect their Slayer.”

Things got blurry for a while after that. When Joyce came to, she was laid down on the couch and there were a lot of worried faces in her line of vision.

“I’m sorry. My mouth gets away from me sometimes.” Spike looked genuinely apologetic.

“You okay, Joyce?” Faith was kneeling next to the couch, looking worried.

“Of course, honey.” She blinked against the black spots playing in front of her. Jenny placed a cup of before her. “Thank you.” She looked around. The faces were too grim for comfort. “What did I miss?”

Giles cleared his throat and took off his glasses. “I called the Council. They were… less than forthcoming with offers of assistance.”

“What?”

“They won’t do anything. Some bullshit about me being the active Slayer. As soon as we get B back we’ll let them know exactly what we think about that, but until then…” Faith grabbed Joyce’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s not on you, honey. This is them trying to get back at us over last year.” She fixed Wesley with a death glare. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“There is nothing I can say to justify their actions. As for me… I quit. I shall continue to aid Faith, but I am no longer affiliated with the Council.”

Joyce spared him a tight lipped smile. “Good for you.”

Spike slapped his hands together. “Right then. As touching as all of this is, I’m off do my part. Let me know what you decide.”

Joyce barely knew him through what Buffy had told her, but she recognized a man on a mission when she saw one. There was a part of her—the one she’d tried to ignore for so long while her daughter was sneaking out of the house to save the world—that was telling her he was more invested than he should be. She found she didn’t really care at the moment. As long as this vampire was going to do everything in his power to bring her daughter back, she could turn a blind eye. After, there would be questions. For the moment, all she did was give him a nod as he left the house in a whirl of black leather.

The rest of the meeting was far less fruitful. A number of plans were proposed, then shot down on account of the Initiative’s superior firepower and connections. In the end it was decided Faith would patrol, but never alone, while Willow would hack into the Initiative’s files—something she swore wouldn’t take too long. The same Willow who was sharing furtive glances with the new girl, Tara, but by that time Joyce wasn’t in the mood to people watch anymore. In fact, coupled with the loss of her daughter, the fact that everyone seemed to have a significant other left her with an acute sense of loss, and the hope Spike would be more successful on his end.

~~~***~~~

*Initiative holding cells*

Her whole body hurt. Head to toes. By her estimate, she’d spent the better part of the last eight hours being almost fried, frozen, exposed to various types of bright lights, and incredibly loud sounds. Of course, all of that was while they weren’t taking X-rays and CAT scans, and other medical tests. She’d bled more for their test tubes than she had for the last couple of apocalypses… apocali… whatever, put together. The real treat though was hearing Walsh’s voice over and over again asking her a variation of the same things: ‘what demon are you,’ ‘what are your weaknesses,’ and Buffy’s all-time favourite ‘do you hunt other demons to sustain yourself?’

She wasn’t sure what some of the tests were even supposed to prove. Then again she couldn’t worry about that. She needed to sleep and recuperate. If what Walsh said yesterday was true, things were only going to get worse.

She closed her eyes and revisited her memories of the initiative layout. She kept an eye out for any chance of escape, but she hadn’t been able to find one yet. Of course, she’d first have to get rid of the three guys who’d taken her to the testing area and shadowed her every move. They were armed to the teeth and one of them always had a gun trained on her.

She had a sinking feeling if she had any chance of getting out of this place intact, she’d have to break out soon. Buffy went back in her trance state. She needed to focus on her inner strength since she would need all of it.

~~~***~~~

*The Bronze, that same night*

“I really like my job sometime.”

“Yeah. Like this morning when they took the new girl through the water tests. Too bad she was still wearing a bra under her shirt, otherwise it would’ve been just like Cancun.”

“I’ll drink to that.” All three Neanderthals cackled while they clinked their beers and downed their drinks.

“I’ll get the next round.”

The taller of the three stumbled his way to the bar and Spike smirked. He signalled to two of his people to create a diversion while he moved into position using every trick he’d ever learned.

A fight broke out over by the pool tables where some guys were accusing each other of hustling. Another drunk stumbled into the table with the two still snickering jerks, tipped it over and made a mess of everything. While nobody was looking, Spike made his move. A clock on the head and Tall-boy was just another drunk being carried home by his buddy. And what if that buddy was room temperature? It was nothing the bouncers hadn’t seen before. In fact, Spike got a nod from one of them, a half-Ravlen who’d been hired specifically to stop vampires dragging away their victims from the club. Nobody would help the Initiative, though.

Once outside, Spike got to his DeSoto as fast as possible, only to find his car being used as a bench by a smoking Faith. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

She gave a short, incredulous laugh. “So you didn’t just kidnap one of the guys that kidnapped B?”

“Well then, it’s exactly what it looks like. I just meant I wasn’t breaking the truce.”

“I knew that.” She jumped off the hood of his car and came closer, tilting her head to peer into the face of Spike’s captive. “So now what? Gonna turn him like you did that other soldier you had?”

The comment surprised Spike. He’d only told Buffy about it when she was asking about his sources, but not even the Scoobies knew. The Slayer thought it would just throw a wrench into their alliance, and she didn’t want that. Apparently telling Faith was a different story. “No, no turning this one. It would take a few days for him to rise, and I don’t plan on waiting that long.”

She straightened and crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts up so her cleavage was even more pronounced. “So… torture the information out of him?”

“That was the plan, yeah.”

She hummed and raked her gaze over his body from head to toe. “I had a different plan in mind for tonight, but I guess you’ll be busy.”

There was something about her tone that made his cock twitch.
“And what, pray tell, were you thinking of doing?”

The smile she gave him was downright predatory. “As I said, me and B? We share everything.” She gave a shrug while she put on a fake innocent face. “So I wanted to find out if you really do eat pussy better than me.” She licked her lips. “I could ride you to a gallop and make you pop like warm champagne.”

Spike almost chocked on air.

“See, the last thing B told me before she was kidnapped was how good you were in bed and how lousy just after. It’s only my duty to see if that was a fluke, or a serious case of the asshole.” Her expression turned hard. “If you do turn out to be an asshole, it’ll be no skin off my back, but I’ll see you dust before you hurt her, got it?”

“Yeah, got it.” He shook his head clear of the lustful images her words had created. Instead he focused on what the subtext was: Buffy had confided to someone about him. And that someone thought he had the power to hurt her. So it was more than a one night stand. And that’s all he needed to know. “Just so you know, I don’t cheat. So that offer of yours? Table it.” He was getting tired holding up the soldier, but he’d be damned if he’d show any weakness in front of the Junior Slayer.

She narrowed her eyes at him then gave a curt nod. “Okay. No pony rides until we get Buffy back.” She smirked again. “Maybe she’ll be more into sharing than you are.” She turned and shouted over her shoulder as she walked away. “Just let me know if he lets anything interesting slip, okay?”

“You’re not going to give me a hard time about the torture of a human?”

She stopped and turned again. “I’m not B. She might give you shit about stuff like this, I’m not gonna. I’m the ‘bad’ Slayer. I smoke, sleep around, close my eyes when I have to, and I really only care that we get her back. I don’t care how we do it.”
Spike smirked. “Glad to hear that, pet. So we’re good.”

“Five by five.” She left without looking back.

Spike checked his hostage was still out cold, stuffed him in the back seat of the car, and then drove off to his lair. He had some unwanted memories to dredge up.

Starshine, when you gonna find me?
Starshine, they ain't gonna find me
Gorillaz - Starshine
~~~***~~~
*Spike’s lair, two days later *
He watched the wretched ruin of a man and weighed his options. He could simply leave him here, checking up on him from time to time to see if either hunger, blood loss, or shock finally do him in. He could offer him up for the minions, let them get some blood from the tap for a change, even if it was Initiative brand crap and it tasted wrong because of all the chemicals and demon derivatives in it. He could turn the guy—Jerry—and let him rise only to torture and dust him later. Or he could just rip his head off and be done with it.
A tingle at the base of his neck, spreading like tendrils to his head and chest stopped him short. It felt…
A minion burst in and gave a quick nod with his head. “Master, we were out on patrol and we encountered a vampire who was taking on one of the Initiative teams and winning. Together we killed all the fuckers, and then he said he wanted to pledge himself to you.”
A voice cut through what John was saying. “Now, now. Let’s not be putting words in the mouths of our betters. I only said I wanted to come pay my respects.” Angelus stepped fully into the chamber. “After all, isn’t that what family is supposed to do?” The bastard smirked and leaned against a wall, eyeing the expiring Initiative soldier. “Hmm. Your work, Willie? Glad to see all my lessons haven’t been completely in vain.” He cocked his head. “Though you might need a refresher, since I can see you were pretty sloppy around the torso.” He narrowed his eyes and scrunched his face as if considering. “And the feet could have been worked on longer.” Angelus shook his head. “I guess you still have some things to learn after all.”
Spike experienced the whole gamut of feelings his elder always elicited—from hate, to fear, to respect, to love—within the span of a second. He glanced at his torture victim and it reminded him of his own experience at Angelus’s hands only a few months back. He almost gave in to his terror, but a century of self-conditioning stopped him. Instead he sneered and drew himself straight. “There are some things I just can’t be bothered with, such as learning anything from you, Gelled Wonder. Now, what are you doing in my town?”
There was a brief flash of shock, covered by a sneer of annoyance on Angelus’s face. “Just because you found a bunch of idiots to do your bidding doesn’t make this your town.” His tone changed to harsh. “I came to take what’s mine.”
“Really? I’ll let the exterminator know the rat problem will be fixed. Anything else?”
Angelus gave a low, menacing laugh. “You talk big, Willie, but we both know who the better vampire is, don’t we?” With a casual wave, he turned around and walked away. “I’ll be seeing you around, boy, when I come to collect.”
Spike whirled around and punched his hand through the soldier’s chest, then ripped his heart out. The last thing he needed right now was to add family problems to the volatile mix on the Hellmouth. He cursed himself for a fool. Of course Angelus would come. Dru probably saw the Gem in one of her visions, or he got word that Spike was the new ruler of Sunnydale and it was too good to pass up. It was just like the sadistic bastard to always come and take what was Spike’s.
But that was tomorrow’s problem. Tonight, there was another job to do.
~~~***~~~
*Giles’s flat *
Spike burst through the door without bothering to knock and stopped short. There wasn’t anyone in the living room, researching as good little Scoobies were supposed to. He concentrated on his preternatural senses and heard one heartbeat coming from the bathroom. “Watcher, that you?”
He heard Jenny’s voice through the door. “Spike? What are you doing here?” She came out wiping her hands on a towel.
“Where is everyone?”
“They’re at Joyce’s house. She wanted—”
He didn’t have time to find out how that sentence ended. “You’re good with spells and computers, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Good, get whatever you need, and let’s go.”
“Wait, what’s wrong?”
“I’ll give you the Cliff’s notes on the way, but I’d rather explain everything when everyone’s together. Suffice it to say time is of the essence.” He smirked. “That’s why I’ll drive.”
She looked at a loss for words for a moment, then she shook her head and pointed to a briefcase by the door. “I have everything I need in there.”
“Great.” He cocked his head. “Are you coming or not?”
“Yes, of course.” She finally started moving, grabbed her keys and her things, and went out the door, Spike hot on her tail.
~~~***~~~
*1630 Rovello Drive*
Giles was feeling at a loss. Researching mysterious artifacts, obscure prophecies, or supernatural enemies came easy to him. Studying up on methods to break into and out of a secret military compound was beyond his scope of knowledge. Of course, he’d studied rudimentary infiltration tactics as part of his Watcher training, but it was usually about how to break into an abandoned building turned lair. Not how to circumvent state of the art security measures.
He hoped Willow had more success finding the blueprints she was looking for, but in the meantime he’d go to the kitchen and prepare some tea. Joyce’s attempt earlier had been superior to most American tea, but his fraying nerves required he prepare it himself, both to ensure the result, as well as a method of contemplation.
He hadn’t gotten to the kitchen yet when he heard a car screech to a halt outside. Jenny came into the house with an agitated Spike in tow shortly thereafter.
Before Giles had a chance to ask if anything was wrong, Joyce went straight to the vampire. “Do you know how to get her out?”
Spike looked startled for a second, then he darted his gaze quickly to Faith and back to Joyce again. “Yes. Or at least, I have everything I need to try.”
Joyce’s voice cracked as she spoke. “You can’t just try. You have to do it. I don’t care what you have to do, or who you have to do it to, just get her home. Please.”
Spike nodded. “With, or on the shield.”
Xander spoke up from his place in an armchair. “What shield?”
Giles replied without taking his eyes off of Spike. “It’s a Spartan saying meaning he’ll either return victorious or dead.” On a whim, he decided to test a theory. “It was ‘I tan I epi tous’ in ancient Greek.”
“It’s ‘tas’ you berk. I tan I epi tas.” Spike seemed genuinely offended at Giles’s baiting.
“Indeed.” The fact that Spike knew the saying, in the original form nonetheless, was another piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit with the official Council history of William the Bloody. Giles could only hope he’d get the change to find out the truth at some point, but a look at Joyce’s ashen face reminded him of the present problem. “What is it you found?”
Spike brought out a piece of paper that, once unfolded, proved to be a sketch of the Initiative base plans. He started pointing out various locations which had been marked. “Best I can tell, Buffy is being held here, in the general holding area, and they’re taking her for her tests here, in the ‘HST research area.’ I think these doors lead to tunnels which are connected to some caves near the edge of town.” The area he was pointing at was drawn in dotted lines as if the exact shape was unknown.
Willow spoke up. “It looks similar to what I found in the city records.” She pointed to the dotted lines. “I have some geological surveys of that area I could print out.”
“Please do so.” Giles addressed Spike again. “Are you certain you can get through?”
“Worst case scenario it’ll take some digging, but I have the equipment for that. It’s far enough from either area Buffy should be in that we could use dynamite to blast our way through in a pinch. The detonation might prove a good distraction, too.”
“And you have the resources?” Giles had a hard time putting vampires and explosives together in his mind.
“I’ve got enough left over from searching for the Gem, yeah.”
“What do I do?” Faith was studying the plans with the confidence of a seasoned warrior. Giles took a moment to appreciate how far she’d come from the scared girl who tried to hide away in Sunnydale.
“You take your crew, and together with some of my guys, you take Lowell house by storm.”
“I went to a party there once.” Xander shrugged his shoulders. “I can come as a guide.”
Spike nodded, seemingly pleased with the idea. “It’s all hands on deck. Just remember these guys are soldiers. They all have side arms, but if you take out their armoury you should be fine.”
In a short amount of time the plan of action was refined. Spike’s demons would blow open the entrances to Lowell House. The Wiccans would perform some dampening spells. Xander, Gunn, and Giles be in charge of reaching the armoury room and preventing the soldiers from getting heavy firepower on their side—the three were chosen as the most adept at using firearms. Faith and Wesley would go for the secret elevator entrance to the Initiative and try to enter through there. Willow seemed confident that if she had access to a computer in Lowell House she’d hack the Initiative mainframe and eliminate all the security measures, which would both allow them access, and open all the cage doors, thus freeing Spike’s ‘Trojan Horse’ demons. In the meantime Spike would get in through the tunnels, something he declared was already underway and wouldn’t take more than a day. Joyce would stay home, despite her protests.
“One more thing you should all know before we go.” Spike’s tone was even grimmer than it had been. “Angelus is back.”
Xander frowned and threw his hands up. “Why? He here to help or something? He disappeared for, like, more than two years.”
Spike’s face betrayed rage. “He’s not gonna help anyone but himself. I didn’t say he came back as Angel now, did I? This is Angelus, un-souled, and full of nasty ideas such as ripping everyone’s limbs off one by one and leaving them on the Slayer’s doorstep. Said he came to claim what’s his, which probably means he wants the Slayer dead and the Gem on his finger, not necessarily in that order. He’d probably use the lot of you for blood-bags as well.” He made a sweeping gesture with his index finger, pointing at everyone gathered. “So if any of you sees him, either stake him on the spot or run.”
“You really think he’d harm us?” Willow’s eyes were big with disbelief.
“Didn’t anybody listen when I first told you about it? He’s back to being a bloodthirsty sadistic bastard. Add in the rage for munching on rats and helping you white hats, and he’s gone barmy. Don’t go near him.”
“So how should we stake him if we don’t go near?” Faith was smirking, but it disappeared when Spike slammed his palm on the table.
“Crossbow, throw the stake at him, fucking use a ballista if you have to, but stay away.” He closed his eyes and spoke more softly. “And remember he’s most likely got Dru with him, and she’s a seer, as well as adept at thrall. Which means she could see you coming and stop you in your tracks before you know what’s happening. Best steer clear, yeah?”
Both Giles and Wesley exclaimed at the same time. “Good Lord.” Angelus on the loose in Sunnydale was a nightmare come true.
***
The rest of the meeting was even more tense, with backup plans discussed in case Angelus showed. A disinvite for Angel was performed on Joyce’s house, and then everyone not staying there left in the small hours of the morning. Faith, Wesley, and Gunn, being Joyce’s erstwhile guests, were also in charge of protecting her from any unwanted visit.
As Giles drove Jenny home, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Want to tell me why you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”
She all but jumped in her seat and focused her gaze on him, from where she’d been staring out the window. “You remember what my initial reason for coming here was, right?”
He gave a quick nod. “You were to keep an eye on Angel in order to ensure your clan’s curse did its job.”
“When he disappeared I couldn’t follow. We lost track of him, and I was almost sent away.” She put her hand on his thigh. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have gone against my family, and I’d have left.”
“I’m grateful you stayed.”
“Me too. But now he’s back without a soul. My people have been looking for him for two years, but all we got were rumors. I need to let them know.”
“Indeed.” His hands tightened briefly on the steering wheel. “My first instinct was to inform the Council, but as is, with their obstinate refusal to aid Buffy… Buggering bastards.”
Jenny let out a short bark of laughter, and she gave his thigh a squeeze. “Well put.”
He pulled in to their apartment’s parking lot. “Well, it’s true. Shall we?”
“Of course, baby. But let me perform the disinvite before I show you exactly what I think about my dirty, swearing, Englishman.”
Giles smirked and followed her home.
~~~***~~~
*Initiative holding cells*
Buffy lay curled up on the floor. The Initiative’s tests were becoming more and more taxing. They’d taken samples of almost everything, and she was starting to panic thinking of when and how they’d complete their collection. Her clothes were dotted with blood from all the puncture wounds. There was also blood that wasn’t her own.
Walsh had put her in a sealed room with a feral vampire and a Polagra demon, both out of their mind, either with hunger or pain, she couldn’t tell. She’d had to eliminate both of them using nothing more than her bare hands, and they’d gotten some good hits in before she managed it.
And through it all, there was still nothing she could use as a chance to escape. Nothing, except the bit of the Polagra’s skewer she’d hidden before they tazed and removed her. She wasn’t sure when she could use it, but she would try. Tomorrow she would have to try, or else she was afraid there wouldn’t be another chance.
Tomorrow when they took her for her tests, she’d make her move.
~~~***~~~
*MRI room, Initiative complex, the next day*
Joyce found herself strapped to a medical table, her clothes missing, and replaced with a hospital gown. She tried to get free, but the restraints were too tight and too strong. “What the Hell is this? Let me go.” What happened to her? Where was she?
A voice could be heard through some speakers Joyce was unable to see. “Mrs. Summers, so glad you could join us.”
“Who is us? Why am I restrained? Who are you people?”
“We are the US Government, and you are the mother of an HST were are studying, so we decided it would be wise to investigate whether she inherited her traits from you, of from her father.”
It took less than a millisecond for the meaning to become clear. “You have my baby.”
“Now, to continue our testing, it is time for a full set of body scans. Since you are awake, I would strongly advise you not move, otherwise we will have to tranquilize you again.”
Tranquilizers. So that’s how they got her. The last thing she remembered was pulling into her parking spot near the Gallery. She should have listened to Faith and not gone to work, but there was a shipment arriving and…
“Interesting. You have a brain tumor. Could this be due to exposure to some sort of unknown elements?”
Brain tumor? Oh God.

Starshine lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

[Passion] She won't let you go
Keep you down below
Dark crypts of your soul
Locked inside your head
You're better off dead
Ayeron = Day Twelve: Trauma

*Initiative HST testing center, that afternoon*
Riley, flanked by Graham and Jimmy, walked into the room to escort the woman to the holding cells. He’d been present for most of the testing, so he had seen the results. There was nothing there to indicate she was anything more than a middle-aged, human woman, just like his mother.
She raised her tired gaze to him. “Anything else you need to poke me with?”
The way she phrased her question, coupled with his last thought made him feel very uncomfortable in her presence. “Uh, no, ma’am, we’re just here to take you to your… ah… quarters.”
She raised a perfectly plucked brow at him. “And it takes three weapon-wielding men to take one confused and weakened woman to her, what, her cell? Is this how you treat defenseless women?” She raked her gaze up and down his body. “Is this the hospitality of the US Army? I am a citizen and have rights, you know.”
“Ma’am, you are related to an HST and—“
“HST. That horrible woman that keeps talking to me while my rights are being violated mentioned that before. What’s that supposed to be?”
“Hostile Sub-Terrestrials, they’re—“
“Are you kidding me?” She got up from the gurney and planted her fisted hands on her hips. “Was my daughter hostile with you in any way, shape, or form, before you kidnapped her?” She made a sweeping gesture around the room. “And sub-terrestrial? Why are you pots calling the kettle black? I’m pretty sure this whole place is underground.”
“Well, see, technically—”
“And we come back to the rights part. I’m, as I said, a US citizen and I demand you respect my rights. I was abducted, harmed, examined without my permission, detained, questioned without a lawyer present, and I’m sure another list full of illegal shit. My ex is a lawyer, so if I tell him about this he’ll have you all Court Martialed. This is your last chance: either let me go, and I’ll make sure the authorities understand you were just following the orders of a lunatic, or take me to what I can only assume is a cell, and become no better than the Nazi soldiers taking people to the ovens just because they didn’t stop to question if their orders weren’t plain wrong.”
Riley gulped. Ever since that morning when Maggie had sent him to pick up someone who, by all accounts, was a civilian, he’d felt more and more uneasy about what he was being asked to do. If he were completely honest with himself, he hadn’t felt good about the mission since he’d brought Buffy in. Still, orders were orders, so he raised his weapon and told Mrs. Summers to follow him.
She raised her chin high. “Just one last question, since I see you all decided to be Stormtroopers: when all is said and done, and you’ve run all the tests you had to run, what will happen to me? Do you think your boss will just let me leave? Or will she arrange for some sort or accident?” She took another step towards them. “What I’m saying is this: I’m a human, and the fact that you’ve kidnapped me and put me in here means my eventual death is on your hands.” She raised her hands with her wrists touching and the palms up, as if she had handcuffs on. “So take me to my cage.”
There was a roaring noise in Riley’s ears. This woman was saying things she shouldn’t be. She was implying that they were— He couldn’t think about all that. He had his orders. She needed to go to a—what had she called it?—cage? In the HST confinement area. A human locked up with monsters. And he was the one supposed to put her there.
He shook off those thoughts again and took her to her cell.
~~~***~~~
*That evening, in front of Lowell House*
Faith was really anxious. Joyce’s disappearance that morning before she got to work was almost certainly the Initiative’s fault, which meant they now had the two women Faith loved most in the world locked up in their cells. Faith wanted to go to war with the fuckers.
And war was coming. Spike almost went on a rampage when he found out Joyce was taken. He blamed everyone—Faith in particular—and went off to ‘blow the bastards’ back door open.’ Which brought Faith and both the Sunnydale and LA crews to their current location: spread out, hiding around Lowell House and waiting for Spike’s minion to give the ‘go’ signal. The bookish looking guy named Dalton wasn’t what Faith expected as Spike’s ‘right hand vamp,’ but he seemed to be confident enough.
A scooter drove up to the front of the frat house and the delivery guy rang the doorbell while carrying a stack of pizzas.
One of the soldiers answered the door, but didn’t seem too pleased to see the food. “We didn’t order anything.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I almost get fired because we were late with the order so you get it for free, and now you say there’s not even an order?”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“This is Lowell house, yes?”
“U-huh.”
“Two pepperoni, three ham bacon specials, one veggie, one Hawaiian. Some guy called Jimmy, Johnny, Jerry, or something, made the call like forty minutes ago.” The delivery guy shoved the pizzas in the soldier’s arms. “Here, you take them, I’ll bring you the order and you can sort it with your frat buddies.” He then stomped over to his scooter and took off like a bat out of hell.
The doorman passed the pizzas to another soldier who had probably come to see what all the commotion was about and made to run out of the house.
That’s when Dalton brought out a remote control and pushed a button. The pizza boxes exploded, leaving a gaping hole where the Lowell House door and the two soldiers had been. “Go now. Go.”
Seeing two people blow up had left Faith shaken, but she couldn’t afford to linger. Joyce and Buffy were those guys’ captives, and who knows what was being done to them. The Slayer ground her teeth and set off for the house. War has casualties, and it was better those be from the bad guys.
She could see the others hurry towards the house, hear the alarms blearing inside, and feel the heat from the still burning doorway, so she decided to crash in through one of the side windows.
She knocked a couple of guys out cold right off the bat, surprising them as they were hurrying with fire extinguishers to the ruined doorway.
Dalton helped Willow and Jenny climb through the window Faith had come in through, and the two women went straight to the computer next to the gaming center.
Two more soldiers came into the room, looking dazed and confused, and Faith made quick work of knocking them both out as well. By the time she was done, Willow was all but bouncing in place. “I got it, their security grid is offline. I’m still working on the cells, but you can get down there now.”
Dalton piped up from where he’d just closed the door the soldiers had come through. “Don’t worry, Slayer, I’ll make sure nothing happens here.”
Faith exchanged a glance with Wesley, and then she was off down the corridor she knew lead to the elevator that would take them to the secret Initiative lair.
~~~***~~~
*Tunnel system close to the Initiative complex*
Spike checked his watch. The exploding pizza should already have been delivered, so it was time he made his entrance. He pressed the detonator and the charges his men had set up over the past twenty-four hours blew up one by one, opening up the way for his invasion force. Before the dust had even settled, his men were busy removing the rubble and clearing a path. Sometimes it paid to not have to breathe.
He used his hands to throw pieces of rock out of his way, not caring where they landed, as long as he could go forward. He had business on the other side of the pile.
~~~***~~~
*Initiative cells*
Joyce’s heart all but jumped out of her chest when the alarms started blearing. She saw a guard take out a walkie-talkie and start talking into it.
Joyce knew the reason for the commotion: the cavalry was coming. She closed her eyes and sent a prayer that everything was going to plan. She got shaken out of her revelry by a series of loud rumbling sounds that seemed to build on each other. Spike was making his entrance through the tunnels.
Joyce started pacing and wringing her hands. She was giddy with anticipation, despite feeling almost crippling levels of fear. Was this how her daughter felt on a daily basis as the Slayer?
She didn’t have long to dwell on that thought, as the lights flickered for a bit before coming back on. When they did, though, the barrier she’d been pacing in front of shimmered and disappeared. She knew Willow was probably responsible, but could hardly believe it. She tentatively put her hand out and when she didn’t encounter any resistance, it took every bit of strength not to fall to her knees and cry out in relief. She wasn’t sure if she should just burst out though.
The demons in the other cells didn’t seem to share her qualms. They all rushed out of their cages as soon as they realized the barriers were down. She heard a shout, probably from the soldier using the walkie-talkie earlier, but it was drowned out by growls, snarls, and ripping sounds.
As she stood there, frozen in indecision, a vampire stopped in front of her and bared her fangs.
Joyce took a step back and tried not to show any fear. “I’m the Slayer’s mother. I’m helping your Master, Spike, to take this place down.”
The vampire cocked her head to the side and just stood there, panting. Then she growled and made a ‘come here’ gesture. “I’m supposed to kill any human I see, but I’ll give you a pass and escort you out, since you’re related to the Slayer. Stay close, or you’re on your own though, got it?” She looked down the corridor before pinning Joyce with her yellow gaze again. “How are you helping us, exactly?”
“There might be heat sensors. I’ve got normal body-heat, so…”
“I guess that could work. Let’s go.”
Joyce was glad for her quick thinking, but she needed to press for more. “I need you to take me to my daughter. She should be in one of the cells here.”
The vampire groaned. “I’m supposed to be on ‘hunt and destroy,’ not ‘Slayer rescue party.’ That’s the Master’s job.”
“Please. She’s my daughter.”
The vampire groaned again, louder this time. “Fine, come on, just try not to die.”
“Thank you. I’m Joyce, what’s your name?”
“Penny. Now move.”
~~~***~~~
*Initiative HQ*
Maggie Walsh was furious. After the initial attack and breach on Lowell House, the whole Initiative was under siege, both from inside and out. Vampires and other demons were crawling out through some outlying tunnels, the HSTs were out of their cages, and all security measures were down, so she couldn’t even get a clear picture of what was happening.
The walkie-talkie chatter didn’t sound good. The upstairs Armory was off-limits, as some hostiles had barricaded themselves there and were laying suppressing fire. The troops down below were being overwhelmed, and without control of the automated lock system, the demons were free to go through the whole compound, eliminating resistance corridor by corridor, in a frightening display of organized ferocity Maggie hadn’t been sure they were capable of. Maybe they weren’t as mindless as initially postulated. Or it was possible that because they were underground, it somehow heightened their abilities.
She cursed the fates for the probability that she wouldn’t get to test the new theories running through her head in the face of this unprecedented attack. She wasn’t even sure she would survive anymore, considering the fact that all the exits, including the elevator, had turned into hostile entrance points.
“Doctor Walsh.”
Her heart gave a jolt as she picked up the transmitter from her desk. “Yes, Dr. Angelman?”
“I’m in the Project 314 room now.” Some noise could be heard through the static. “They’re coming through and I don’t think anyone can stop them.”
“Can you save our work?”
“I can try to—” a very loud crash reverberated through the speaker. “No, please, God , no. No.” There was a sickening squelching sound, then the line went dead.
“Angleman.” No reply. “Angleman are you there?” There was still nothing. She cycled through the channels, noting more than half of them had gone silent, whereas the main channel was a cacophony of shouts and pained screams. The Initiative was losing.
Her eyes focused on the wall of monitors showing only static. She eyed the one that had been set to the Slayer’s cell for the past few days. Maggie knew, deep in her gut, that the attack they were under was all Summers’ fault. She raised the walkie-talkie to her mouth and issued what she feared would be her last order. “Everyone, converge on Hostile 17’s cell. Shoot to kill.”
She didn’t even listen to see if anyone acknowledged her order or not. Instead she checked her sidearm was loaded and the safety was off, that her Tazer was charged, and then walked out into the madness.
~~~***~~~
*Initiative complex*
Buffy was trying to find the nearest exit, but all she could see were identical tunnels branching out everywhere. The ones that were ‘named’ didn’t help much either. Who decided ‘H.A.2.12’ was a good way to indicate a direction? Why couldn’t just one say ‘exit?’ Sure, she could follow the demons running amok, but they seemed more interested in systematically dismantling anything human-made, rather than finding a way out. Spike’s scorched-earth policy in action, no doubt. She couldn’t really blame them, considering she’d been on the receiving end of the Initiative’s brand of hospitality. What she wanted was to just let them do their thing and get out. She wanted to see her Mom again. She also missed seeing the sky. Of course, a better idea would be to take a shower, curl up, and cry her heart out for what humans had done to her.
She also wanted revenge, but whatever she might do wouldn’t compare to what they had coming from Spike’s death squads.
Spike. She’d have to apologize to him for not believing the Initiative would want to do their experiments on her. She’d probably have to thank him for bringing it down, too. She did not look forward to either of those things.
She also really needed to get to Willow, or Ms. Calendar. Either one or both of them must have already hacked the Initiative to open the doors, so Buffy hoped they could be counted on to wipe any records of the testing done on her. No way did she want anyone to have access to whatever Maggie Walsh got from the days of ‘cut, bleed, repeat.’ There were some hard copies somewhere too, but that was nothing a bit of arson wouldn’t fix.
Apparently Buffy Summers couldn’t make it through one year without either burning something down, or blowing something up. Ah, well, such is the life of the Slayer.
A soldier blocked her path. She recognized him as one of the goons who shadowed her throughout her testing. She punched him so fast and so hard he didn’t even have time to aim the rifle he was holding. The crack his head made against the wall made her feel both uncomfortable, and good at the same time. She looked down at him, trying and failing to feel any compassion as a vampire came up from behind her and started ripping the soldier apart.
Buffy turned a blind eye and moved on.
As she got to another intersection she looked at the identifying plates. “Which way do I wanna go? T.A.2.21, or H.A.2.17?”
“Oh, you don’t want to go to the TA. Bad things happen to good people there. Then again, Sunshine isn’t so good anymore. There’s a fly in my soup.”
Buffy whirled around and gasped. There were two vampires just a step behind her. The female seemed familiar, but the male was who she remembered most. “Angel.”
He spread his arms wide. “Hello, Buff. Missed me?”

I hear there's a party at Lake Cove
It's be much easier if I drove
We could check it out
We can go and see
Come on take a ride with me
Therapy? - Diane
~~~***~~~
*Initiative armory*
Giles was getting tired. His ears had a constant ringing in them from all the semiautomatic rounds he’d fired. Perhaps it would have been a wise course of action to employ some earplugs.
The soldiers attempted to assault their position, but the concentrated fire from three determined shooters pushed them back with several casualties. Giles wasn’t sure what was going on in the rest of the house, but he could hear fighting through the walls. All of a sudden, there was an increase in the noise, and he instinctively shot at the movement down the corridor leading to their make-shift position.
The target proved to be a vampire who cursed loudly when he was hit by a couple of bullets. “Stop fucking shooting. We got all of them.”
Giles allowed himself to relax. The battle for Lowell House was over. He looked at his companions. They looked just as harried as he felt. Only half an hour had passed since they’d entered the frat, but he’d aged a decade. “Let’s check on the others, shall we?”
~~~***~~~
*Initiative tunnels*
Faith made her way through the complex. It looked more like a cross between a hospital and a prison, than a military base. She’d taken a peek at some files they’d found in one of the labs and almost threw up at the contents. She thought she’d seen evil before, but the descriptions and photos in there were enough to shake her belief in humanity.
Now she and Wesley were moving from room to room, to find anything that would lead them to Joyce, Buffy, or the bulk of their research.
As they rounded a corner to move into another section they saw a group of people wearing lab-coats being led their way by Maggie Walsh, who looked more disheveled than she did in the picture Faith had seen on Willow’s laptop.
Walsh frowned and pointed a gun at Wesley. “Who are you two? I don’t remember seeing you in the personnel files.”
Faith needed to act fast. “There’s a hostile behind you.”
Walsh hesitated for a split second, but that was long enough. Wesley dropped to the ground, while Faith used the wall to jump on top of Walsh and disarm her. She then used the crowbar she’d armed herself with to knock out three of the scientists before they even realized what was happening.
Walsh tried to hit her, but a punch to the solar plexus put her down. Faith whirled on the rest of the humans, while Wesley trained a loaded crossbow at them. “Who’s gonna tell me where all your research is?” When she got no response, she took a menacing step forward. “I see you’re afraid. I’m guessing you’re also afraid of the ‘hostiles’ coming this way on a warpath.” She dropped her voice and added in a sneer. “I’m what demons are afraid of, so you better answer when I ask you something.”
She smirked when the Initiative people started talking all at once, trying to outdo one another in being more helpful.
~~~***~~~
Spike ran through the corridors ignoring any demons he met and ripping through the soldiers in his path. He didn’t have the time or patience to take stock of what was happening, instead trusted minions would to finish the job of putting the Initiative down for good. He had one priority: get to Buffy.
When he reached the cell block she was supposed to be in she wasn’t there. Blood covered some walls, a few demons he couldn’t be bothered to identify were dead or dying, but the Slayer was gone. He sniffed out trying to find her, but it was difficult due to all the interfering smells. At long last he picked up a smell that enraged and gave him a jolt of hope at the same time: Slayer blood, probably a day old or so. It was centered mostly in one cell, but there wasn’t anyone there.
He went back out in the corridor and tried to focus. He took off to his right, following the more recent trail, thankfully devoid of that new blood smell he was dreading. At least Buffy hadn’t gotten hurt.
He went as fast as he could, stopping at each intersection in the infernal maze of corridors to gauge where she’d gone off to. He could feel the trail getting stronger until he was confident enough to take off at a dead run.
Soon enough he stopped in his tracks. “Bloody hell, what the fuck are you doing here?”
“Now, now, Willie, you really don’t seem to show any respect for your elders. It’s almost as if you’re trying to hurt my feelings.”
Angel was leaning casually with his back against a wall, the Slayer held tightly in his grip, while Dru stood to the side, one of her hands clasped around Buffy’s neck. Her claws were close to piercing the skin and her gaze never left the Slayer’s. Buffy seemed to be out of it, which could only mean she’d been thralled. Spike knew if he moved one more muscle she’d be dead before he reached her.
Maybe he could bait the big lug. “You have something you wanna say to me, Gramps, come here and say it, you don’t need to hide behind a skirt, do you?”
Angelus smirked. “Oh, but I think you can hear me just fine from where I am. As I said last time, I’ve come to collect what’s mine, and she is mine.” He punctuated his words by moving one of his hands over Buffy’s belly.
Spike snorted. “What, you came all the way here to beat me to offing the Slayer?” He cocked his head. “That’s flattering, I guess, but you could have simply waited for the next one to be called. Don’t you like ‘em younger, more… virginal?”
Angelus sneered and straightened his position off the wall, taking Buffy with him and pushing Dru out of the way. “You forget what my darling girl can see, don’t you? I know all about you and your pact with Buff here. Really, joining forces with the Slayer is a new low, even for you.”
“Says the vamp who chased after her skirts for more than a year with nothing to show for it.”
“Oh, don’t worry, by the time I’m done with her, her corpse will show more than enough.”
“Have at it, then. Far be it from me to stop the mighty Angelus from torturing some poor chit who can’t fight back. I’m sure they’ll sing songs about your exploits down at Willie’s.”
“Cut the crap. We both know you have the Gem.” The smile on Angelus’s face was malicious. “Dru told me you’ve actually gone and fallen for another unattainable woman, and since she’s one of mine, as usual, I’ve decided to be magnanimous: I’ll give Buffy to you in exchange for the Gem.”
Spike snorted. “You’re kidding me. You want me to hand over something that’d make you invincible, and expect you to, what, walk off into the sunset? What’s to stop you attacking us once you have it?”
“Us? Oh, boy, are you whipped. You do realize she’s never going to be yours, right? She’s too much for you to handle, she needs a real vamp.” He thrust his hips forward.
“My prince is lost to the Sunshine. Lost, lost, lost.” Dru gave him a pitying look. “You taste like ashes, my Spike.”
“I’m not you Spike anymore, Dru. You and your precious Daddy made damn sure I knew that when you were torturing me six ways to bloody Sunday.”
Buffy’s gaze focused on him, despite her not changing her zoned out countenance. The thrall was over. She’d still be dead in a moment with both Angelus and Dru so close, but at least she was conscious.
“Would you look at that? You can be taught. I’d almost lost all hope. Now it’s time to learn you’re nothing special, just an upstart I should have dusted as soon as he crawled out of the ground Dru put you in.” Angelus barked his next words. “Hand over the Gem, or stand there and watch me take care of Buffy here. Maybe you want to take notes.” Angelus started worming a hand under Buffy’s top.
“Okay, okay, stop. Let her go and I’ll give it to you.”
Angelus laughed. “You think me stupid, boy? Hand over the Gem, and then you get your precious Slayer.”
“Now who’s making assumptions? We trade at the same time.”
“Fine. Come here.”
“I’ll meet you halfway, Peaches.”
Angelus laughed, but pushed Buffy forward. Dru let out a dreamy laugh and started twirling in place. Spike matched Angelus’s steps one at a time, until they were within smacking distance.
Angelus reached a hand out, palm up. “Moment of truth. Give it to me.”
Spike grabbed Buffy’s arm with one hand, while he held the Gem in his other. With a flick of his wrist, he made it sail up through the air. “Catch.” He pulled Buffy to him while Angelus was busy following the Gem’s trajectory with his eyes.
Dru let out a shriek and rushed at him. Spike pushed Buffy out of the way of his maker’s extended claws, getting a deep slash on his forearm for his trouble. He retaliated by punching Dru in the kidneys, which only made her come at him full force.
***
Spike was holding his own against Dru, so Buffy focused on what Angel was doing. No, this wasn’t Angel, it was Angelus, and he was scrambling on the floor, trying to find the Gem. She couldn’t allow him to get it. Spike with the Gem had been a shock. A vampire who seemed more interested in talking with her about her classes, and argued with her about all kinds of subjects over a cup of coffee was one thing. One of the worst sadists in history couldn’t get his hands on something like that. The result could be another Apocalypse, and she so didn’t want to have to figure out how to kill an unkillable vampire.
She didn’t have a stake, but she wasn’t unarmed. She took out the Polagra skewer from where she’d hidden it and lunged. Angelus was distracted and her aim was true, so she staked him right through his heart, but he didn’t turn to dust. He let out a roar and kicked her in the belly, making her fly through the air until she met the corridor wall. She ignored the pain and got up to keep fighting. She needed to stop Angelus.
She was intercepted by a screeching Dru. Buffy could barely hold the vampire back from scratching her eyes out with her nails and yelped in pain when she got bit on the arm instead.
The attack stopped just as suddenly as it started, and Buffy coughed out the dust that got in her mouth. When she raised her gaze she could see Spike frozen in place, his stake-wielding hand still extended in front of him from where he’d dusted Dru.
She wanted to say something, but she didn’t have time, as she saw Angelus grab the ring off the floor. “Crap.”
She sprang forward to stop him, but he managed to slip the gold band on his finger.
She reached him and part of her mind noted his astonished look.
“Why isn’t this healing?” He frowned at where the Polagra spike was still stuck deep in his chest.
She grabbed his hand and managed to wrestle the ring off his finger. He growled and backhanded her, but she refused to let him get it back. They rolled on the floor, each trying to get the upper hand. She saw Spike watching them, and their gazes locked for a moment. She knew what he had to do at that point, and she hoped so did he.
When the stake he threw reached her open palm, she closed her fist around it and plunged it into Angelus’s heart from the back. This time she’d been prepared, so no vamp dust got in her lungs. Still, she felt exhausted and just lay there for a moment.
Spike kneeled next to her, and touched her face. “You okay, love?”
“Yeah, I just need to catch my breath. After three or four freaking days in these cells, I wasn’t exactly ready for a fight to the death with Angelus and Dru.”
“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes, gotta tell you, winded or not.”
She smiled at him. She hadn’t realized until the moment the thrall had faded away and she saw him across the corridor just how much she’d missed him. She laughed and raised a hand, which he grabbed to help her get off the floor and away from Angelus’s ashes.
“Thank you.” She didn’t mean just for the hand up, but she wasn’t sure how to put everything she felt into words. So instead she kissed him. Not how she’d done in in the crypt, full or passion and adrenaline, but a peck on the lips where she barely lingered. She wanted to linger. Gazing into his eyes, then watching his lips curl up into a smile, she wanted to kiss him, really kiss him. But she shouldn’t.
Of course, that’s when people started coming in from all sides.
First it was her mother and one of Spike’s minions that he’d better not have had a thing with. While Joyce cried and hugged her Faith appeared from the other side, leading a group of guys in lab coats that were tied to each other in a line, with Wesley herding them from behind with a loaded crossbow.
Buffy didn’t get the chance to ask what everyone was doing there, because Spike insisted they all needed to get out of the Initiative, since his men had set up charges to blow up soon. They were shutting it down with a bang, just as Buffy knew they’d have to, so she shrugged and followed Spike towards the escape tunnels, still holding on tight to the Gem of Amara.
Once the Initiative ended, so did the truce, and he would be the enemy. She watched his back as he lead them to safety. There was so much she’d wanted to say to him, so many scenarios she’d gone through in her mind while she’d been caged up like an animal, and now she wasn’t sure she’d get to say anything. Sometimes being a Slayer sucked ass.

Diane lyrics © BMG Rights Management

Quick reverse
Potent as the first verse
My amplifier blows on your world's higher
World's sire
Cuts like a barbed wire
The Prodigy – Diesel Power
~~~***~~~
*Caves outside Sunnydale, some time later*
Spike was still getting reports from the survivors, but it all pointed to the same thing: the Initiative was defeated, and as soon as the charges would blow, it would be sealed for good. He eyed the scientists and other hostages huddled together next to a wall. They would need to be taken care of so that nobody could recreate the experiments again.
Buffy, Joyce, and Faith were on the opposite side of the cavern, talking in hushed voices. Spike made his way over to them. “How are you holding up?”
“Everything’s better now that we’re out of that horrible place.” Joyce shuddered as she talked.
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, we’re good, but what now?”
“What do you mean, love?”
“You said you’d blow the place up.” She made a signal toward the prisoners with her chin. “What’s gonna happen to them?”
“Well, we can’t let them go with what they know. So—”
“You want to kill them?” There wasn’t any shock in Buffy’s voice, which Spike took as a good sign.
“I do. For what they did down there, for what they did to you, they deserve to suffer and die. Would be good for morale too.”
“They’re still human.”
“So was Mengele. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t think they would have started cutting you and your mother up bit by bit?”
She lowered her head and covered her face with her palms. Joyce came up and hugged her from behind. “I don’t care if they’re human or not, they deserve whatever you want to do to them. Burn them at the stake as far as I’m concerned.”
“Mom, better not say such things. Remember last time?”
Joyce looked stricken and started apologizing for something Spike knew nothing about. There was a story there for another time.
Faith spoke up as she placed a palm on Buffy’s shoulder. “From what I understand, the truce says the Initiative people are yours to do as you please with, so… enjoy, I guess.”
Spike hadn’t even thought about the truce. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Which brings us to my earlier question: then what?” Buffy’s gaze was burning through him, as if searching for something. “The Initiative will be defeated, so the truce will be over.”
Spike felt as if she’d slapped him. “So?”
She huffed. “So what are you going to do after?”
Her question got him mad. “What’s wrong Slayer? Afraid I’ll come hunting for you and yours? Scared I’ll decorate the streets with their entrails to celebrate our victory? You think I did all this to get you out only because of the fucking truce?” He didn’t even want to look at her as she stood there in all her righteousness. Down in the tunnels, when he’d seen her at Angelus’s mercy, he’d realized that he would do anything for her, the love sick fool that he was. Hearing her question his motives got him seeing red. “Know what? If you’re so scared about what comes next, why don’t you just leave?” He could see the idea shocked her. Good. “Get the fuck out of here, go take care of yourself and your mum, lick your wounds, and see what happens as it happens.” Nobody moved. “Go.”
He whirled around and left her there. He needed blood and booze, and luckily for him there were some happy meals with legs in lab coats just begging to sate his hunger.
~~~***~~~
*Buffy’s dorm room, a couple of weeks later*
Buffy woke up from her sleep only to find she couldn’t make a sound. A mimed discussion with Willow later, and it became clear Buffy hadn’t suddenly come down with muteness, but something else was going on. Maybe it was related with that disturbing Slayer dream she’d had the other night. Which, of course, meant they needed to get to Giles and research.
She called her mother first, only to be stumped by the inability to communicate with someone over the phone, especially when the people on both ends are verbally challenged. She hung up defeated.
Walking through town proved an eerie experience, and that was saying something considering they lived in Sunnydale. What was worse though was that because of the silence, she was forced to pay attention to her thoughts and what the places they were passing meant to her.
It was a ‘greatest hits’ of her and Spike: the coffee shop he used to work at, the half-hidden playground they’d had their first tryst in, the burned down, half-sunk, and condemned husk of Lowell House. Just three streets over and one street down was the cemetery where they’d come together, only to fall apart, and ahead was where he’d come so many times to ‘keep in touch’ with her and her friends. Now she’d be at Giles’ and he wouldn’t come. Because she pushed him away.
What did it say about her that her entire sexual experience consisted of four one-night stands? Scott wasn’t her fault. She knew you couldn’t turn someone gay any more than you could turn someone straight. He’d used her as a beard and maybe an attempt to figure out his real self. Parker had been a sleaze who didn’t even merit mentioning, but she’d been silly enough to fall for it. Faith had been something else altogether, and had things been different, maybe they would have had a future. In fact, Buffy wasn’t sure she hadn’t made a mistake when she’d refused to at least become her fuck buddy. Last week she’d hit on Faith after they’d stayed up all night to catch up. The other Slayer had refused, telling her she was up for almost anything, but that she wouldn’t be Spike’s replacement.
Which brought her back to Spike. Though they’d technically done stuff twice, it was only that one time they’d both been in full control of their minds and bodies. He’d rocked her world, and then he’d opened his big mouth and ruined it. Of course, he’d been right about the Initiative, but now that wasn’t the main issue. He was free to kill, and if he did she’d have to dust him.
She played with the ring hidden under her shirt. She’d put it on a necklace and almost always wore it. It allowed her to understand a bit more about how Spike felt with it: impervious, unaffected by either the need to eat, drink, or sleep, and oh so terribly alone. She’d also solved Angelus’s riddle: the Gem didn’t heal wounds you’d gotten before you put it on, on the contrary. She’d nicked herself on a knife one morning—she took it off to be able to sleep—and the wound didn’t close until she took off the necklace with the Gem, despite her Slayer healing. So it kept her body in the state it was in when she put the ring on.
Of course, she hadn’t told Giles the Gem of Amara—the Holy Grail for vampires—worked just as well on Slayers too. The ramification of what that meant… Faith hadn’t been phased when she’d found out. She’d simply said it made sense. The two of them weren’t called Vampire Slayers for nothing. Sure, it got shortened to Slayer many times, but the rest of the title was always there, in the background, like a shadow. Well, apparently that darkness was there because they had at least a part of a vampire demon inside them. The Council probably knew more about it, but the last thing Buffy wanted to ask Travers was weather she was part demon.
Wesley had told them about the wet-works team that was ready to take both Buffy and Faith out if the Cruciamentum impasse couldn’t be resolved last year. So there would be no rocking the boat. The Slayers got paid, the Council got periodic updates, and the world was protected from demons and the odd apocalypse. Everyone was far from happy, but definitely not murderous. And even with the Gem, Buffy didn’t think for one second the Council wouldn’t go after her if they decided she was ‘tainted.’ Her Mom and friends were still vulnerable and she’d—
Her mind and her feet ground to a halt. She would exchange the Gem for those she cared about, for someone she loved. The Council would probably simply destroy it, but a vampire would use it. Spike had turned the Gem over to another vampire in exchange for her. Sure, he must have known she would try to stop Angelus, but he still did it. He put everything on the line for her. She repaid him by not giving him the ability to walk in daylight. She looked up at the sky. It was overcast today, but behind those clouds was the sun. She’d stolen the sun from him.
Willow gave her a strange look then wrote on the clipboard she’d bought from some guy on the street earlier: ‘Spike?’
Buffy grimaced. She wasn’t sure if she was happy her friend could tell what was bothering her, or upset that she was so transparent. She shook her head and pointed to Giles’s flat, mouthing ‘research.’
Now was not the time to be thinking about the vampire who hadn’t come round since the fall of the Initiative. She had everyone’s voices to get back.
~~~***~~~
*Main Street, the next day*
Buffy was chasing fairytales. Sure, the nightmare version as opposed to the Grimm one, but still a fairytale. Then again, Giles had said the Gem of Amara was a fairytale at some point too.
No. No thoughts about the Gem, or who it belonged to.
She met another couple of those weird helper guys with the untied straight-jackets, killed one, and followed the other as it hobbled away. She hoped it’d lead her to its masters.
Instead it lead her into a trap. Four more jumped her and she found they were really hard to get rid of, when each grabbed hold of a limb and started pulling.
Her left leg got free all of a sudden, and she used it to brain the thing holding her right leg. She was getting ready to get rid of the other two holding her, when the fifth jumped on her. As it was trying to choke her with his sleeves, it was dragged off her and its head was ripped off.
There he was—Spike. He’d come and helped her despite everything. She didn’t have time to deal with, though. She curled up and wrapped her legs around the stocky neck of one of the creatures holding her and managed to break it. Jumping off its body in a crouch, she spotted the last remaining minion limping off out of the alley.
She locked gazes with Spike and her heart skipped a beat. He frowned, tilted his head, and he focused lower. She glanced down and saw what he was looking at. During the struggle, the Gem had climbed out from under her top and was now on full display.
She shook her head. Now was not the time for Spike, the Gem, or anything else except stopping the Gentlemen. She tucked the necklace back under her top and looked around. The last minion was getting away. She rose from the ground and set off in pursuit.
Several minions were protecting the door at the foot of the Sunnydale U bell tower. Jackpot. She charged at them, Spike rushing the ones on her left. Together, they broke through the demented things, and then started climbing the tower. On the top level they found the Gentlemen and their collection of stolen hearts in jars.
Behind one of the demons with demented smiles was the box from her dream. She needed to smash it. She pointed it out to Spike, who nodded, and then they took on the monsters together. When one of the Gentlemen almost managed to bury his knife in Buffy’s shoulder, Spike jumped between them, and got stabbed in the back.
Buffy used the time he’d bought her and reached the wooden box, crushed it, then let out the longest and shrillest scream of her life. When she finished shrieking, the headless bodies of the Gentlemen were lying on the floor, and the remaining minions were making a run for it, away from the tower.
Spike stood next to her, his index fingers wedged in his ears. “That was some scream, love. You all right?” He lowered his hands and winced.
“I’m good, but what were you thinking? It’s the middle of the day, and you don’t—”
“I know I don’t bloody have the Gem, but I couldn’t let you go at it alone, could I?”
She’d turned so she was facing him now. The wound in his back must have hurt a lot with how stiff his shoulders looked. “And you jumped in front of me to get stabbed. Why did you do that?”
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to just say ‘thank you’ for that.”
“I had the Gem, so it wouldn’t have hurt me anyway.” As soon as she said it, she realized she’d just told him what she’d been hiding from everyone but Faith for the past two weeks. By the way his expression turned from surprised to calculating, he understood what it meant.
“It works on Slayers? That’s just neat. Did you try—”
“We aren’t talking about this.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Right, then. Well, I’ll be off.” He looked at the sky. “Fun as all this has been, I better get to cover before the sun decides to do something stupid, like come out of the clouds.”
He made to walk past her, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Why are you here, Spike?”
He let out a sigh and pinned her with such an intense gaze it stole her breath. “Because I’m in love with you.”
There it was. He’d said what she hoped he’d say, what she’d dreaded he’d say since the moment she saw him in the Initiative tunnels, trading the Gem for her life. But that still didn’t solve anything. Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she had to be strong. “What about the truce?”
He snarled. “What about it? I tell you I’m in love with you and all you’re interested in is the fucking truce? Typical.” He made to rip his arm away, but she held firm.
“Please. I need to know.” She would refrain from jumping to conclusions.
He stared at her for long moments, his jaw muscles ticking, and his nostrils flaring. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and most of the hostility was gone from his gaze when he looked at her again. “I haven’t killed anyone since you left the caves.”
That was… she hadn’t expected him to say that. Her heart lurched, but she once more put her feelings aside. “What about the hostages?”
He sneered. “Butchers. Almost ripped the whole lot limb from limb. They deserved it, too, you know that.”
She gulped and nodded. She remembered some of the thoughts going through her mind while she’d been trapped. She’d wanted Spike to come and rip them all to shreds. Then… he had come, and she’d wanted him to not be a monster. Consistency, thy name is not Buffy.
“In the end I got to choose their fate, as the Master of Sunnydale.” He smirked. “Did you know there’s a demon whose venom drives you insane?” She shook her head. “Nasty bugger. One prick from his stinger, and it’s off to Bedlam. Only way to make the antidote is to kill it and use its own venom to create a brew.” He shrugged. “That’s exactly what I told those so-called scientists and soldiers as they were injected, one by one. Took for bloody ever, since it’s hours before it recharges for full dose. Only finished two days ago. Left that Walsh bird for last. Had her watch every single one of her people get dosed. She saw twenty three of her former underlings get stung and slowly go insane before it was her turn. She was halfway to Loonyville before the venom. Now they’re all in the care of some nice people with white robes and powerful drugs.”
Buffy shivered. “That’s horrible.”
“Maybe, but they’re not dead. I may have drunk from a few of them that first day, but didn’t kill any of ‘em. You can check, they’re—”
“No. I’m never going close to a nuthouse again.”
He frowned. “What happened?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.” She shuddered again. “So… you…”
He gave her a twisted smile. “Haven’t gone on a murderous rampage, no.”
“What about your minions?”
He winced. “There were some who took issue with my latest ideas, so now there are less minions.”
She frowned. “What ideas?”
“Catch and release, keep a low profile, focus on criminals, you know… the works.”
“You mean—”
“I simply modified a bit the truce we already had. Didn’t go down very well with some of the more violent types, but they’re dust piles by now. Hell, we’ve had some demons decide they wanted to stick around too, strength in numbers and all that rot.”
She felt a lump form in her throat, but managed to speak past it. “I thought patrol was only slow because there were so many casualties in the attack.”
“We didn’t lose many. More of a ‘shooting apples in a barrel’ than a fair fight that was.”
It was time to ask the big question. “So what’s to stop you changing your mind and killing again?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I love you. What more do I need to do for you to under—”
She shut him up with her lips. She’d wanted to kiss him like this for too long. When it finally happened it was so much better than she remembered, she didn’t even think of the bodies around them until she accidentally stepped on one. She stumbled back and looked around. “Okay, that’s gross.” She raised her gaze and could see he was worried. “Wanna go somewhere more private and… I don’t know, less with the dead bodies?”
The smile he gave her lit up his whole face. “Your place or mine?”
“Don’t you share with a bunch of other vampires?”
He scratched the back of his neck with a bashful look. “I actually moved in to a crypt, been cleaning it out and putting in furniture. No dead bodies anywhere by now. You might remember the one—”
“Did you get a bed in there?”
“Well, yeah. Didn’t want to sleep on a sarcophagus.”
“Oh, thank God. Let’s go.”
Diesel Power lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management

Who do you need, who do you love
When you come undone?
Duran Duran – Come undone

They chased each other all the way to the crypt Spike had claimed as his own. Every time they got within arm’s reach, they would come together and share more of those mind-numbing kisses that left her panting every time. She all but flew to the cemetery. Once they reached the crypt, he wrapped her in his arms and took her through a trap door into a lower level he’d converted into a bedroom. She didn’t really have time to look around to see what he’d done to the place, as more of his kisses distracted her.
She started to giggle when he let her up for air. Of course, since Spike’s personal mission seemed to be taking her breath away, as soon as he started taking his clothes off she inhaled and then forgot everything else. He was the closest thing to male perfection she’d ever seen. Marble skin over rippling muscles. She cursed herself for not ogling him properly the previous time they’d had sex. All those fantasies she’d had while she’d been the Initiative’s captive, and even more so since she’d gotten out paled in comparison to reality.
He dropped his pants and her brain short-circuited. She wanted him inside her now. When she raised her gaze to his to tell him off for not moving fast enough she found something even better than a naked Spike to look at. The emotions he conveyed with his eyes all but overwhelmed her. There was so much love and awe there she felt like crying.
He came closer and crawled on top of her as she sat on the bed, gently pushing her back until she lay down. She was torn between wanting to enjoy every single second, and hurrying him up so that he’d complete her sooner. His chuckle wasn’t what she expected.
“What? Is anything wrong?”
“You planning on shedding any of those clothes, Slayer, or do I need to become more inventive?”
Her heart fluttered at his words. “Make love to me, Spike.”
The smile that lit up his face was beautiful. She watched him as he undressed her. When he lowered his head to her pussy, she stopped him and raised him to her. She didn’t need him to prepare her, she was more than ready for him. She’d been ready for weeks. Now she wanted to watch his eyes as he sank into her.
It was everything she wished for and more. He held her gaze as they moved together, dipping his head ever so often to give her a kiss. She closed her eyes as she came and pulled him closer to her, his mouth ending up on her pulse point. He mumbled something she couldn’t understand, then he came too, the feeling of him emptying himself inside her triggering yet another orgasm from her.
They clung to each other as they shuddered, coming down from their respective highs.
“God, I love you.”
His words made her heart sing. “I—I can’t say it back.” She felt him tense and held him tighter to her, afraid to let him go. “I like you.” She giggled and he snorted. “Okay, so I more than like you, and I care about you, and I—I like how you make me feel.” She kissed the side of his head and turned him so they locked gazes again, hoping he’d see there what she wasn’t able to put into words. “I missed you, too. I keep turning up at the coffee shop and waiting to find you there so I can tell you how my day went. I expect running into you on patrol, and every time someone knocks on Giles’s door, for a moment, I always think it’s you. Then I realize I can’t feel your tinglies on the back of my neck and…” Oh my God.
He was watching her as if she were made of gold. “It’s okay, baby. I’m never leaving you again. You’ll never get rid of me now, Summers. All I wanted was a crumb, and what you gave me, what you keep giving me is so much more than I deserve. I—”
“I love you.”
That stopped him. “Buffy?”
“I—” She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m in love with you. I just didn’t know it until just now.”
“Buffy, I love you so much.” He kissed her long and hard as they clung to each other. He started moving his hips again, his cock having stayed hard and deep inside her. “Not gonna be able to go slow this time.”
“Yes, please, don’t hold back.”
He repositioned himself so he was above her and started moving inside her again, his thrusts gaining in strength. She watched him watching her and grinned. Then the sensations he was creating became too much and she came.
They kept at it until they were both exhausted and happy, cuddled together in the middle of his bed. “That was… wow.”
“It was.” He tightened his arms around her as a shudder went through him, then eased up again. “As soon as I can feel my legs once more, we’re doing it again.”
She laughed, but had to agree. Her whole body was pleasantly numb, and if she tried to walk she’d keel over for sure. She eyed the Gem of Amara where it lay on top of her clothes. If she were to put it back on she would probably regain functioning legs, but she also wouldn’t be able to really enjoy wrapping them around Spike.
As if reading her thoughts, he whispered in her ear. “Thinking of cheating?”
She craned her neck to look at him. “What?”
“You put that thing on and you’ll be running circles around me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Or you could snatch it and leave me in the dust… no pun intended.” They both chuckled at that.
“I don’t think you were really listening earlier, Slayer. I’m in love with you, so you’ll find it difficult to get rid of me. You should know by now I’m not going to betray you.”
She realized she’d hurt him, so she ignored her aching muscles to turn around and wrap her arms around him. “I heard, I understood, really. I’m just not used to people sticking around. Not even Faith…” She couldn’t finish her thought out loud.
“Faith.” He sighed and Buffy’s heart broke a little. “As you well know, Dru was always hung up on her great Daddy, no matter what I did, and regardless of the time passed. Which brought us all to the moment in the Initiative where—.” He sighed deeply again and Buffy kept herself from interrupting as he had to get out what was eating at him. “Are you going to be wishing it was her instead of me?”
The words hit Buffy harder than a Fyarl. She put her hands on the sides of his head and gazed as deeply into his eyes as she could, wishing he could read the truth in her soul. “I swear to you I’m not pining over Faith. Me and her were never in love. Sure, I love her as a sister, so she’ll always have a place in my heart and in my life, but I’m not, and I never was in love with her. She’s just—”
“Someone you diddle yourself to when Red is asleep and dreaming of equations?”
Her cheeks were burning. “I don’t—” He raised his scarred eyebrow and she couldn’t keep up the lie. “Okay, so maybe I do think about her sometimes when I’m alone in bed.” She licked her lips. “Sometimes I think of you, instead.”
He smirked and pecked her lips. “Maybe I should give you more material to think on.” He flexed his hips to emphasize his point. How could he still be hard? Then again, she was getting excited herself. “Of course, I could possibly be persuaded to let her join us for a bit of fun. Give you some material for those long, cold nights when the beasties are all tucked in their beddie-byes, and yours truly is otherwise engaged.” He winked at her. She decided she needed him inside her as soon as possible to soothe the ache in her womb.
She just needed to not make it look as if she almost came thinking of herself sandwiched between Spike and Faith. Because she meant what she’d said. She wanted Spike as her boyfriend, her lover, while Faith was family. Okay, so not exactly family, since otherwise there was that whole incest thing. Never mind. “I want you, and only you. Preferably now.”
He smirked once more and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I know what you’re thinking about, but that’s okay. I believe you.”
“Smart man.”
She turned him over and eased herself on top of him. She rode him slow, kissing him ever so often, relishing the way they fit together.
“I love you, Slayer.”
“I love you too. And it’s Buffy.”
“Yes, Buffy, yes.”
It took them both a while, but they came once more and she collapsed on top of him.
“I meant it, you know. I promise you’ll never need to worry about Faith. Unless you break my heart. Then she’ll probably come kill you.”
“She’ll be too late, though, won’t she? By the time she gets here from LA either you, me, or the rest of the bloody Scoobies, or even your mum would have plenty of time to finish the job.”
“Possibly.” She was too tired to talk, or think anymore. “Sleep now.”
“Drink anymore of that beer, love?”
“Shh. Sleep.”
He kissed her forehead and dragged a sheet on top of them. “Okay pet, sleep it is.”
***
Buffy woke up and didn’t know where she was for a moment. She took in her surroundings and everything came back in Technicolor. In their sleep they’d changed positons, so they were once more spooned with him behind her. She smiled when he tightened his arm around her torso, caressing her breast.
She could get used to waking up like this. She burrowed deeper in his embrace and felt his cock growing against her backside. Oh, yes, she could definitely get used to this.
“Evening, gorgeous.”
“What time is it?”
“Way too bloody early, is what.” He shifted behind her and she felt his cock probing between her thighs. She decided to play with him a little, so she clenched her muscles, denying him entry. Spike chuckled in her ear. “Having a bit of fun denying the Big Bad, are you?” He shifted some more, then slid his cock so it was now pressing against her back door. The feeling wasn’t at all unpleasant, and she pushed back almost without meaning to. Whatever he’d done to her so far had given her pleasure beyond belief, so she would even let him to that to her. “Not now, love, I need to prep you better for that.”
She wanted to turn around and say something, but he used her distraction to slip inside her pussy and she gave up trying to talk.
***
“What time is it?”
Spike groaned and yawned. “It’s still early, not even midnight.”
“Midnight?” Buffy sat up in bed, only to have every single muscle in her body protest the movement. “Ouchie ouch, ouch.” She looked around, trying to map out the quickest way to gather her clothes. Quickest and with the least amount of movement. Who knew having a sex-a-thon would leave you so drained. Well, that and ecstatic. She glanced at Spike, who was sprawled next to her, naked, relaxed, and smiling as he looked at her. She felt giddy and so she threw caution to the wind and bent down to kiss him. Painful, but worth it.
Still, clothes would be of the good. She reached for her top, deciding the bra was more trouble than it was worth. As she put it on the necklace fell out and landed on Spike’s thigh. She froze looking at it.
A few moments passed when neither of them moved. She wished she could think of something to do, but her mind was a blank. Why couldn’t she say anything?
He moved his left hand over her legs, then over to his own, where he picked up the necklace with the Gem of Amara and her cross. The fact that there was no burnt skin on the vampire was a clear sign it was working on him again. “Interesting combination of adornments you have here.”
“U-huh.” Yeah, that was articulate.
“You gonna have the Gem reset into the cross, or keep wearing them as a set?”
Wait. What? “What are you talking about?”
He tsk-ed. “You know what I’m saying.”
“Explain anyway.”
“The Gem of Amara works on slayers too, and it’s yours, so you get to do whatever you want with it.”
“This isn’t mine.” The words came out all on their own and she hadn’t even realized how true they were until she said them. For the past weeks she’d felt wrong while she was wearing and testing the Gem, and now she was finally able to understand why. It wasn’t her ring. It was always his, and she’d felt like a thief. “It’s your ring, Spike.” She was able to stop looking at the Gem and gaze into his eyes. There was so much awe and love shining there it almost made her cry.
“But it would help you.”
“It would help you more.”
He tilted his head. “So you would trust the evil vampire with the artifact that makes him nearly indestructible?”
She gathered all her courage for her answer. “I trust him with my heart, so trusting him with this? Easy.”
He swept up and kissed her with such passion all her aching muscles were forgotten. He dropped the necklace behind him, then pulled the shirt she’d only managed to half-wear all the way off again. “I love you so much Buffy.”
She laughed as he laid her back down on the bed. “I love you too, but we need to make this one quick. I haven’t talked to my Mom or my friends since before we took care of the Gentlemen. What if they think I’m dead or something?”
He growled against her breast. “They’ll keep. Got better things to do with you.” He moved a hand between her thighs and started fingering her at a slow pace.
“Guh. I also need to patrol.”
“Not tonight, you don’t. My boys will take care of anything important.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Please stay, Buffy. Stay with me tonight.”
“What if they do a locator spell and walk in on us?”
“Then they’ll learn not to do it again.”
She could see he was beginning to doubt her. There was an edge of fear to his eyes and movements. She flopped back on the bed, giving up any pretense of resistance. “I just hope it’s not my Mom that walks in. Oh, wait. Maybe it’s better if it is her. I really don’t want to give Giles and Xander a show. Or a complex.”
He laughed as he slid down her body, and all the way until he latched his mouth to her throbbing clit. There was no more talk of leaving after that.

Song writer: John Taylor, Nick Rhodes, Simon Le Bon, Warren Cuccurullo