Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry I was late in updating, these past two weeks were murder at work and home life, I felt like I was never home! Many UBER thanks to Mari and Tina for chopping, dicing, slicing, mincing… etc., you get the idea – and making it MUCH better than when I sent it to them. Thanks ladies, only one more chapter to go!

This chapter is definitely for Andrei – blackoberst. He patiently helped me sort out my thoughts for the origin of the Gem and introduced me to “Looking For Group” and Richard. I nearly pissed myself laughing at his antics, it’s definitely Spike pre-chip! His birthday in on 11/25 so stop over and wish him a Happy Birthday! YAY!

I liberated some dialogue from ATSV season one and the episode, The Gift and inserted them where I thought they’d work. Sue me if you don’t like it, but you won’t get a dime.

This chapter is also for Tina who, while she was here and we went on a massive book-buying spree, suggested I use the information about vampire reanimation in one of the books I bought – The Vampire Survival Guide, by Scott Bowen. I highly recommend you get it, as it’s quirky, very tongue-in-cheek and just plain funny. And no, he wasn’t trying to make a quick buck.
“Mrrwwarrrrrr!”

Giles rubbed his forehead and groaned.

Ever since they’d chained Angel up, he’d done nothing but growl and practically tear out the plumbing in the bathroom while trying to free himself. Amazingly enough, the ball-gag was still firmly in place, and he wondered if Anya had cursed the sex-toy to prevent breakage of any kind.

“Isn’t there some kind of vampire Justice League that’ll come to his rescue if you don’t release him?”

Giles glared at Cordy. “The only justice that vampire is in league with is his own.”

“All I’m saying is he’ll put a whammy on you once he gets loose – you’ll stink with whammy.”

“Then I’ll just have to take an extra shower, won’t I?” he ground out as he stood and left Cordelia in the living room.

Pacing in the kitchen, it was an understatement that Giles desperately needed to use the loo, but he’d be damned if he’d do it in front of that blood-sucking bastard. He glanced at the clock above the stove and frowned heavily, his aching bladder shifting to the back of his mind as his worry once again returning to the forefront of this thinking.

It had been a little over an hour since Buffy and Xander left to see if there was anything that could be done in regards to Spike and he was now cursing himself many times over for not getting one of those new-fangled cell phones that apparently were all the rage. He’d had enough problems trying to adapt to the library’s computer system with Willow’s help and he didn’t think learning to use a portable phone would be any less of an issue. Honestly, he didn’t know what was wrong with the one he had, even if it did weigh about ten pounds and could probably kill a man if he threw it at him.

“Arrrghhhhhh!”

Or maybe a vampire.

Finally reaching the point that his back started to ache from holding his bladder, Giles fled the kitchen and proceeded out of the front door, finding a rather large bush in a secluded area where he could relieve himself. He’d nearly finished when he heard the squeal of tires come to an abrupt stop as car doors opened and slammed shut. Shaking off the remaining urine, he began tucking himself back inside when –

“Oh. My. God!” Buffy shrieked as she stood staring at her Watcher… zipping up after taking a leak.

Giles turned a thousand shades of red as he twisted away from her and arranged himself, nearly capturing his dangly bits in the metal teeth of the zipper. Composing himself, he turned back around and headed towards the group, noticing that Xander was carrying an emaciated Spike.

“What happened?” he asked, opening the front door to allow the teenagers to enter with their burden.

“Spike’s dead,” Xander said without thinking. Anya promptly flicked his ear. “Ow! Okay, so he’s the dead undead who only needs to be reanimated, then he’ll be just be the undead again.”

“Translation please?” Giles looked at Buffy with a cocked eyebrow.

She sent a glare to Xander before answering. “They bled him out, Giles. Don’t ask me why, `cause we’ll never know. But, I think we have a way of getting him back.” She handed a hefty notebook to her Watcher. “Would you look this over and tell us what we need to do, please?”

Looking at the first set of notes, he became intrigued with the process of reanimation. “Hmm, it says we’ll need vampire blood, about ten pints.” He flipped the page, asking absently, “Why will we never know?”

“The lab is gone,” she replied quietly.

Sharply glancing at her, he asked for more clarification. “You mean they’ve shut down their operation?”

“No, I’m saying that Riley shut the Initiative down… by blowing it, and himself, up. I wouldn’t be surprised if they find sinkholes all over campus tomorrow morning.”

“My God.”

“I don’t mean to be the bearer of more bad news,” Xander said with a grunt. “But while Spike’s body isn’t decomposing, he is heavy and he’ll end up kissing the floorboards if I don’t lay him down somewhere… soon!”

Giles shook himself free from shock from Buffy’s information. “Yes, of course. Take him upstairs to the spare bedroom. I have it ready for him.”

Buffy followed Xander up the stairs and down the hallway to the bedroom where she’d listened to Spike play the guitar, turning on the bedside table lamp instead of the harsh light overhead. She flipped back the feather-down comforter and fluffed the pillows before Xander laid the frail vampire on the sheets, removing his duster so that she could cover him up.

“I’ll just get back to Anya. She seemed to really like that glamour Willow tried on me, thinks I should grow a mustache or something.”

Smiling softly, Buffy shook her head. “You looked very sinister indeed, no wonder she liked it.”

He grinned in return, but his smile faltered when he took in Spike’s state. “You think it’ll really work… that zombie animation thing?”

“It has to,” she whispered, taking the vampire’s cold hand in hers.

Xander laid his palm on her shoulder with a gentle squeeze. “Let me know if there’s anything more I can do.” He turned to leave the room, her softly uttered question stopping him.

“Why are you helping? I mean, I know you don’t really like Spike… so why are-”

“Same reason I told him. Scooby.” And with that, he left the room.

She stared after him in amazement. Xander was the last person she would have thought to embrace the vampire as anything other than an annoyance or a thorn in their collective sides. Knowing the truth-will-out spell revealed their hidden selves, she assumed everything would revert to their pre-Thanksgiving attitude, now that it was over.

Caressing Spike’s long fingers, she mused that without a doubt everyone’s true nature had been exposed, even Giles’ less-than-stellar inner self, which she found made her really feel uncomfortable. She’d have to ask him about that later, after everything was over. Willow seemed to gain a new friend in Tara and her heartbreak eased greatly with the other Wicca’s presence. Plus, she now had someone to practice her craft with, one who possessed a true gift and could guide her best friend into becoming a powerful person, inside and out.

She knew that Xander needed another male around other than Giles, one nearer his age, or in Spike’s case, closer to his mentality. Yes, he was one of her best friends, but she knew he missed Jessie’s presence in their once circle of friends. Whatever it was that turned Xander’s head towards Spike to fill those shoes, she was grateful it happened and probably wouldn’t delve too deep to question why it did. Sometimes, you just had to let things be.

Rubbing gently on the tip of his finger, she noticed something different – her own finger had no vamp dust on it. Quickly, she turned his hand over and looked at his palm, running a nail along the middle to see if she picked up any dust. Again, nothing. Darting her eyes to his sallow face, she saw not one flicker of movement to indicate that he’d felt anything or that his status had changed.

“Is there anything I can get you, Buffy?” Tara asked quietly, peeking in the door.

The Slayer started at the sound of her voice, but quickly regrouped. “Hey, Tara… uhm, yeah… could you ask Giles to come up here? There’s something different going on with Spike and I wanna know if he’s read up on the reanimation stuff yet.”

“Sure.”

Hearing her descend the steps, Buffy uncovered Spike’s chest and started stroking his skin, hoping her fingers would stay clean and free of his dust. Although his flesh was extremely withered in most places, it remained intact and didn’t shed. Tears rimmed her lashes as she smiled.

“See? You’re still in there, don’t you dare give up!” she whispered fervently, touching his cheeks tenderly.

“You wanted to see me, Buffy?” Giles inquired from the doorway.

Wiping away her tears, she turned and beckoned him into the room. “He’s not dusting anymore.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. What do you mean not dusting anymore?” her Watcher asked her to clarify, sitting in the overstuffed chair across from the bed.

“Oh! My bad, I forgot to tell you. While we were in the lab, I was trying to clean Spike before we brought him home and he-he… he started…” she broke off, getting choked up at what she’d seen.

He laid his hand on her knee. “Take a deep breath, Buffy. I understand you witnessed some rather horrific sights inside, but they’re gone now, right?”

Biting her lip and nodding, she continued. “I was stroking his hand and it started turning to dust the harder I rubbed. See?” She showed him the fingers she’d nearly rubbed off. “I was afraid to touch him for a while, but I had to stitch him back up.”

“Stitch him? There are other injuries?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she gently lifted Spike’s head to let Giles see the evidence of the Initiative’s cruelty.

“Mother of God, they’ve cut open his head!”

There was no use in holding back the tears as they coursed down her cheeks. “I think he was awake when they were doing it.”

“Animalistic bastards!”

Her eyes widened at the use of profanity from her Watcher. “Actually, I don’t think animals are this cruel. Humans know how to torture, animals just do what they need to survive.”

“You’re quite right, dear.” He cocked his head and gazed at her in a new light. “You’ve grown, Buffy.”

She ducked her head and blushed. “He taught me to see things differently,” she said simply, looking in Spike’s direction. “Even when he was blind.”

“I have to confess that I was… wrong about him,” he admitted sheepishly. “And for God’s sake, don’t tell him about it until I’m ready to make my apologies. There’ll be no living with him if he finds out beforehand from someone else.”

“I promise,” she smirked.

“So, we need to find out why Spike is not dusting further. Did you administer any medications or perform a spell of some kind while you were in the compound?”

“I wouldn’t know what to give him. No, other than pulling out the tubing and putting the ring back on-”

“The Gem of Amara?”

“Yeah, to prevent anything else from happening to him,” she said with a thoughtful tilt of her head. “Do you think that’s what’s keeping him from completely dusting?”

“It’s quite possible. I have an old transcript buried somewhere on the history of the Gem and its properties, let me see if I can find it.” He rose from the chair, taking one last look at Spike. “Meanwhile, as it’ll be dawn soon, I’ll have Xander head to the butchers.”

She frowned heavily. “We’re using Angel’s blood for this. Why would we need blood from the butcher’s?”

“Yes, but I would guess he’ll only be able to give us around six pints before being completely dried up. Then where would you get your vampire blood, hmm?”

“So we’re gonna feed him then… drain him?”

“Do you have a better suggestion? I highly doubt a patrol would turn up any willing candidates.”

Snickering at the thought of using a vamp as a vamp-snack, she shook her head. “No, it’ll have to do, I guess. Do you know how to get the blood from him yet?”

“Tell him it’s for a charity blood drive? The Red Cross is low on O positive? Threats of Holy Water and crosses?”

She snorted. “That last one has promise. We’ll just have to wait and see how much of a fight he’ll give us.”

“Indeed. I’ll return shortly.”

He left Buffy as the sun began to creep over the horizon, and out of habit, she drew the curtains and blinds to darken the room. She yawned and stretched as she started to come down from the adrenaline high she’d been on all night, her eyes closing even though she desperately wanted to stay awake.

Turning off the small lamp, she crawled into bed with Spike’s motionless body and wrapped the covers around them both, yawning once more as she descended quickly into a fitful slumber.

~*~

“My God, this is intriguing!”

“I swear, if he does that one more time, I’ll-”

“It’s amazing. I’m surprised I never realized it before!”

“Okay, really… any man that gets that worked up over dusty books is a total lost cause.”

“Shut-up, Cordy,” Xander muttered from his curled up position on the couch.

“Don’t tell me to shut-up, Xander Harris! I’m not the one who’s deciding on how to kill a vampire with a soul! I wouldn’t want that on my conscience, no-siree.”

“And yet, she continues,” he grumped, returning to the Yellow Pages as he looked for medical supply companies.

Willow was engrossed in her own book, learning the delicate balance that needed to be in place for the actual transfusion. “Wow! Did you know pig’s have sixteen different blood types?”

“Horses have thirty-four,” Anya offered. “And they have this amazingly long-”

“Ewww! Don’t finish that sentence!” Cordy threatened.

Xander grinned wickedly. “Finish it, Ahn… finish it!”

Anya looked at him strangely. “Esophagus.”

“Really? How long?” Willow asked, peeking up from her book.

“Four to five feet.”

“I want to go home!” Cordy wailed, trying to get up and walk around, only to fall back into the chair, dizziness overcoming her.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have you both out of my apartment!” Giles yelled at the whiney girl. “But as it is, we need Angel for an undisclosed amount of time, so you’ll just have to… well… deal!”

“Nice one, G-man!”

Giles rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs towards the spare bedroom. Quietly opening the door, he spied Buffy completely curled around Spike and sleeping soundly. He hated to wake her but she needed to know certain things about the vampire’s condition and the Gem. Leaning down, he was about to touch Buffy when he noticed Spike’s body posture. It was no longer rigid as if he were truly a corpse, instead laying in a sleep-like relaxed stance. This boded well for them.

“Buffy? Wake-up, I need to speak with you.” He shook her shoulder lightly.

She giggled in her sleep. “My bunny loves licorice.”

He snorted with mirth. “Buffy, wake-up please,” he said a little louder as he took her hand and began patting it.

“Patty-cake, patty-cake, baker’s man… bake me a cake as fast as you can,” she sing-songed merrily, still deep in slumber.

Frowning, Giles resorted to underhanded tactics to wake his Slayer up. “Buffy! The Master is alive, Drusilla and Angelus are back, and Faith is awake!”

She shot straight up in a defensive pose on the bed, her Watcher’s words still ringing in her ears, scanning the room for her adversaries. “Where?”

“Finally,” he muttered and sat in the overstuffed chair.

Seeing none of the threats Giles mentioned, she glared at him. “You’re evil.”

“More than you know. Now, can we discuss my research?”

“Discuss away, as long as it involves a non-dusty Spike and of course him being able to speak in coherent sentences,” she replied, noticing the old tome in her Watcher’s lap. “That’s not the book I gave you.”

He glanced down. “No, this is a text I found on the Gem of Amara. Willow has the instructions you obtained and is studying so she may assist me in performing the transfusion.”

“Doctor Giles and nurse Rosenberg, huh?” she snickered. “Sounds kinky.”

His lips thinned. “I think Spike might have corrupted your mind as well.”

“Well, he was running rampant in there for a while.”

Clearing his throat as he turned a bright shade of red, Giles redirected the conversation. “My study turned up some rather interesting discoveries about the Gem.”

She gently ran her fingers through Spike’s limp curls as she listened to him speak. “All good I hope?”

“For the most part, although disturbing in others.”

“Do tell,” she said, sitting cross-legged next to Spike’s still form. With his eyes closed, he looked merely asleep, but the other two in the room knew better.

“Are you familiar with the name Mohra?”

Her brows drew together in a heavy frown. “I think so, but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it.”

“They are an ancient race of demons from another dimension, I believe. Occasionally, one or a few hundred will cross over to ours and create havoc.” He paused for a moment, watching Buffy trace idle patterns on Spike’s t-shirt. “They’re highly sought after in demon competitive and gambling underworlds.”

She glanced at him. “What for? Are they inter-galactically rich?”

“Inter-dimensional. And no, not rich. They’re able to regenerate quickly, you see.”

“So, if their tail got cut off, they’d be able to regrow them?” she asked.

“If they had one, yes. It makes them virtually indestructible – and that makes for a prized champion if you’re betting on the winner in a high-stakes game,” he explained. “Also, the severed appendage tends to become stronger once it grows back.”

Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Wow! No wonder demon gang lords want to play gladiator with them.”

“Exactly,” he replied, adding, “But they do have two weaknesses.”

“Exploitation of weaknesses is always good in Buffy-world.”

Giles flipped through the pages of the dusty book until he stopped at an illustration. “They require a considerable amount of salt to survive. And this,” he pointed to a picture of the demon’s forehead with an oblong object in the center above its eyes. “Is its greatest weakness. The Mille Oculus.”

“With a name like that, I feel an academic lecture coming on,” she grumbled good-naturedly.

“I’m doing this your benefit, Buffy,” he groused, thumbing through some of the earlier pages. “But I do admit, it is fascinating research.”

A knowing smile played on her lips as she took Spike’s hand and began lightly stroking his palm. “You’re such a slave to research.”

“You would do well to explore the idea yourself, if only to improve your knowledge of demon habits and anatomy,” he pointed out.

She grinned with a wink. “But that’s why I have you. I’m just the muscle.”

“Ahem. Well, back to the Mohra.” He shifted in his seat, returning to the topic at hand. “Apparently, they’ve been causing discourse for quite a few centuries, even going so far as to be considered one of the causes for the plagues in Egypt.”

“I think Moses would’ve been disappointed to hear that,” she commented.

“Yes, well, the Egyptians were not monotheistic, so they believed it was punishment from the Gods. As it happens, it appears that a priestess in the temple of Isis was struck with a vision wherein the goddess Isis herself approached the woman and lamented that the Land of the Dead was becoming overcrowded with the slaughter caused by the Mohra. So she charged the priestess with implementing a way for the dead to walk, unharmed, throughout daily life for a period of time.”

Buffy quickly glanced at Spike and then back to Giles in panic. “How long?”

He quickly scanned the text. “It doesn’t say,” he answered quietly. “But I’m sure I can find some reference to it in another book.”

She gulped audibly. “I hope so. I don’t wanna try this reanimation thing only to have him flambé in the sun when the batteries run dead.” Fear edged her voice as she twisted the ring on Spike’s finger.

Giles nodded, watching as Buffy tightened her grip on the vampire’s hand. “I’ll look into it more later.”

“Thank you.” She studied Spike’s nails, noticing he needed a new coat of black polish. “So how does this priestess to a dead lady solve her problem?”

“It seems she was told in the vision that healing powers rested within the jewel on the Mohra’s forehead. Regenerative and healing powers,” he responded meaningfully as he nodded in Spike’s direction.

A confused look fell upon her face. “But, Giles look… he’s not regenerated! I rubbed his fingers off, for Pete’s sake, not to mention the blindness thing! And let’s not forget the damage the chip did,” she ranted despite her Watcher’s glare.

“If you would let me finish?”

She crossed her arms and huffed. “Fine. But I don’t think the ring actually works.”

“The priestess realized the demon’s power lay within the jewel,” Giles continued, ignoring her grumblings. “And she devised a way to secure the gem without shattering it, though the text is incomplete as to how she obtained it without being killed in the process.”

“Figures.”

“Buffy, unfortunately, there is rarely a Cliff Notes version to research related to demons. You’d understand that if you actually did any.” He saw that she remained silent, so he went on. “The priestess cut the red jewel into five rough pieces, each one taking on a different color and size once she’d polished the stones.”

“Why only five?” she asked.

“According to the manuscript…” he paused to read further. “There were eight pieces originally, but through trial and error, three were destroyed in the process to shape them. She found that if the gem were too small the power contained within would create a fissure in the matrix of the stone, causing a leak, if you will, of the stone’s power which rendered it useless.”

“So five pieces were as small as she could get them and still keep the power, right?”

“Yes.”

“And these five stones… where are they now?”

“One is there, on Spike’s finger… the green scarab,” he said, pointing to the vampire with the glasses he’d taken off.

Her eyes widened. “What about the others?” she whispered, wondering if there were other vamps running around in the daylight.

Giles steepled his fingers and thought for a moment. “I believe two were destroyed in battles over the years. One is at the bottom of an ocean or sea, the history as to its exact location has been lost, and one is on display at the Cairo museum, presumably thought to be an ancient Egyptian artifact.”

“It’s just sitting there, waiting for a vamp to take it?” she asked incredulously, wondering why she’d never heard of these gems before.

“No one, but a select few, knows the capability of the stone housed there. It’s in the form of an Ankh arm bracelet, red in color – the only piece of the original jewel to keep its red shade.”

Her mouth was hanging open. “And what? You just happen to be one of those select few that know about it?”

He smiled weakly. “There are things you don’t know about me, Buffy… things better left unsaid.”

“I won’t get into that now, but you and I are gonna sit down and have a nice little chat at some point,” she promised.

Looking away from her penetrating eyes, he cleared his throat and flipped through some more pages. “The ring that Spike found was buried in a sealed cave by the Templar Knights, along with other treasures they’d accumulated over the years.”

“There’s a stash? In Sunnydale?”

“All over the world, actually. They never kept their acquisitions in one place, too easy to find, you see?”

“So what kind of power does this ring have?” she asked, caressing the jeweled stone as well as Spike’s finger.

“Restorative and impervious qualities, really. When the priestess designed each piece, it allowed the wearer, which in this case was the previously dead that Isis had begged relief from, to function fully in day-to-day life without having to cross over into the Goddess’ realm, thus ending the overcrowding. The walking dead were impervious to the damaging solar radiation of the Sun and tended to regenerate if harmed.”

“But Spike didn’t-”

“Spike was constantly being damaged internally due to the chip in his brain, therefore, he had no recuperative time between firings. Internal injuries take longer to heal, needing a more delicate balance to make repairs, even in vampires,” Giles cut her off, knowing she was going to argue about Spike’s inability to overcome the affects of the chip. “I suspect the damage would’ve been much worse if he hadn’t been wearing the ring while all this was going on. You probably saved his un-life.”

Biting her lip to keep it from trembling, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out as she nodded. “I remember trying to s-stake him,” she said with a shudder. “He said it felt like a tickle.”

Giles snorted in amusement. “It most likely felt that way to him at least, at the time. The ring doesn’t prevent injuries from happening, just the mortality rate caused from them. The priestess went on to give the jeweled items to high nobles in Egyptian society that had been killed due to the Mohra’s presence in our dimension. I’m not sure how they were passed on, but it’s plausible to say that some modern day vampires are descendants of those five nobles.”

Buffy glanced at Spike’s gaunt face. “So, he’s like nobility then, huh?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he stated derisively. “I said plausible, not that it was an actual fact.”

“Grumpy Watcher.” She snickered momentarily before sobering. “I still don’t get one thing though,” she wondered aloud. “There were only five pieces… five bodies missing doesn’t sound like too many in the underworld to me.”

“Ah, yes… it wasn’t. By the time the stones had been passed on, the priestess was well underway in her experiments on the Mohra’s body, trying to see if there were any other weaknesses it possessed. She didn’t find any, but she did discover a curious side-effect of mingling its blood with that of a dead body.”

“I don’t want to know how she figured this out, do I?” she asked, nausea threatening to overtake her.

He shook his head. “Probably not.”

“Didn’t think so. What happened?”

He raised one eyebrow and stared hard at her. “It brought the dead person back to life… breathing, living, human life.”

It felt like the room was compressing in on her from all around, making it hard to breathe as memories struggled through the fog in her mind. Images assaulted her brain as her Watcher’s words sunk in and Mohra’s name finally made sense, realizing the last time she’d heard it was when she was with…

“Angel.”

Giles narrowed his eyes. “What about Angel?”

“That’s where I’d heard about Mohra, when I went to L.A. One of them crashed through his office while I was there, lots of fighting ensued, and at some point Angel’s blood was infected with Mohra blood,” she whispered angrily. “He became human.”

“But he’s still a-”

“Vampire? Yeah, I know. He decided, without asking me once again, that he needed to be a vampire to keep me safe.” She snorted. “Only he would remember that he’d been human. The rest of us would forget it ever happened.”

“How did he manage that?”

“Doyle told him about the Oracles, some powers-that-be granting favors or wishes in exchange for something shiny, I guess. He asked them to take it all back. They did, and up until about a day or two ago, he was the only one that remember the time I spent with him.”

Giles’ eyebrows rose. “He became human and you spent time with him? Doing what? Oh, no… never mind, I don’t want to know… or rather I do know, I just don’t want to know.”

“You’re flustered.”

“I wonder why?” he grumbled, glaring at her. “How did you find out if he was the only one that was supposed to remember?”

Tears filled her eyes as she slowly turned to look at Spike. “I guess I was dreaming and since he was in my head and all, he could hear it… even see it. I asked him to show me because the memory always faded away by the time I woke up,” she said, sniffling. “So he did.”

“I see.”

“Yeah, so did I.” She whimpered while wiping at the tears on her cheeks. “He didn’t want to show me, but I begged him to help me. I don’t think he understood what kind of effect it would have on him or me, but he did it anyway.”

“Guys?” Willow said quietly, poking her head in the door. “Xander’s back with the medical supplies and the blood.”

Giles nodded. “Good. Tell him to put all the blood in the refrigerator and we’ll be down shortly.”

Buffy watched her best friend leave. “You ready for this?” she asked hesitantly, knowing that neither her Watcher nor her best friend was a medical expert.

“There’s no choice, is there?” he responded somberly as he stood, making his way to the door. He stopped just before leaving the room and looked his young charge. “We have to be.”

~*~

“You know, these instructions sound a little… uh, weird, like they were written by some nut job trying to make a quick buck,” Willow pointed out to the group gathered in the living room.

“Dealing with vampires and reanimation isn’t exactly a sane pastime, now is it?” Xander reminded her, dumping his bag full of transfusion kits onto the coffee table.

Giles picked a kit up and turned the package over to read the stamp on the back aloud. “Property of Sunnydale Memorial Hospital?” Glancing at Xander, the boy had the decency to give him a sheepish look before defending himself.

“What? Look, the Red Cross shelter went defunct about three years ago and the hospital was the only place I could think of that wouldn’t ask questions, especially since I wanted at least five extra kits for you guys to practice with.”

Anya frowned. “The hospital didn’t ask questions?”

“Heh-heh, well… you see, I just happened upon this guy delivering stuff at the back entrance near the loading dock, and he-”

“He stole them,” Anya told the group. Her eyes lit up as she turned to her boyfriend. “Maybe later we can do some role-playing and you can break into my apartment and I’ll try and bash you over the head with a vase, or something equally disarming, and then you can-”

“Make her stop, please! I’ll pay you whatever you want!” Cordy moaned. “I don’t want to hear about mister Toadstone and miss Fairy Badmother’s sexcapades!”

Xander grinned unrepentantly. “Jealous? Had a taste of the Xan-man and now you’re jonesing for more?”

Anya slapped him upside the back of his head. “Focus, Xander. She has Angel, and while you’re a sexy stud in the bedroom, you just can’t compete with a vampire. Although, I don’t know how active he’ll be once we finish this blood ritual.”

Buffy snickered and silently agreed with Anya, even though her only human experience was Parker. “So, what’s first?” she asked, clapping her hands loudly to gain everyone’s attention.

“Well, like I said… the instructions are… well-”

“Just read them, Willow,” Giles interrupted impatiently. He couldn’t clear out his bathroom fast enough.

“Okay, but I warned you.” She sighed then started reading the introduction to reanimation. “You don’t want to get into vampire reanimation, not even for kicks. Sure, everyone wants to try it once, but if you pull it off, what have you got? A raving, ravenous, lunatic vampire hell-bent on sucking dry the first thing it can find… you!”

“Well, there’s a cheerful thought,” Cordy quipped. “So you’re going to bring Spike back only to have him be crazier and more grrr than Angel was when he returned from Hell? Good luck with that.”

“Shut-up, Cordy,” Buffy growled, if only to ignore the possibility that if they brought Spike back, he might not even be Spike anymore. Guess they’d find out soon enough.

Willow glanced around at the group, their faces intense until she landed on Tara’s, who smiled and nodded for her to continue. “Take one fully intact, blood-empty vampire that doesn’t have too many holes, most likely one that was starved or bled to death less than two weeks ago.”

Xander pointed at the top of the stairs. “Check.”

“You’ll need three to four transfusion kits,” she continued, taking a quick look at all the plastic packages on the table. “Check.”

She shifted from foot to foot the more she thought about what she was going to have to do to Angel in order to retrieve his blood. “Six pints of human blood,” she read, counting off the needed six people in the room. “And ten pints of vampire blood.”

“Yeah, any idea on how to get that, Giles?” Buffy asked as she opened one of the packages and peered inside.

Willow bit her lip. “If he struggles, we’ll just lose blood and that won’t do us any good.”

“No, it won’t. I don’t suppose you know any spells that might keep him immobilized, do you?” Giles asked either witch.

“Uh, guys?” Xander held up his hand. “I might have something that could work.” He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a long, black revolver with metal prongs on each side, showing it to the group.

“What is that?” Tara asked, but everyone had a good idea what it was.

Buffy’s lips thinned as she glared at him. “Where did you get it?”

“I-I grabbed it when Riley wasn’t looking, I thought he was gonna use it on me!”

Giles took the Taser and inspected it as he asked the younger man questions. “How many shots do you have with this?”

“One.”

“Well that does us no good. We need to keep him incapacitated.”

“Then keep the electrodes in his body and depress the trigger when he starts waking up.”

“And how long does each pulse keep the person unconscious?”

“How long were we out for the count? Half-hour, hour tops, maybe?”

“So one would need to repeatedly stun the victim to keep them insensible, correct?” Giles asked with a devilish smirk.

Xander’s own grin spread across his face. “Definitely.”

Giles turned to Buffy. “I rather think this is just the thing we need.”

~*~

“Wot du ou ink ou r oing?” Angel muffled, outrage pouring from his eyes as he watched Willow set down several plastic trays on the floor of the bathroom.

She glanced at Giles, who indicated she was to continue prepping the area for the blood withdrawal. Looking back at Angel, she pressed her lips to keep from chuckling… just a little. Snapping on her rubber gloves, she grabbed a tourniquet and a ten-gauge needle syringe before moving a bit closer to Angel.

“Wot da ell r ou oing?” he growled staring at the instrument, struggling against his bonds. He noticed Willow turn to Giles, who stepped into his line of vision and squat to eye-level, a black gun in his hand.

“You see this, yes?” Angel nodded. “It’s a Taser, like the one they used on Spike… like the one they used on us,” Giles bit out the word. “Unless you hold still for dear Willow, you’ll gain firsthand knowledge of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a cattle prod.”

Angel began to sweat.

“Are we clear?”

He nodded with a whimper, his breath escaping through his nose in quick bursts.

“Go ahead, Willow,” Giles said with malicious glee as he moved off to the side and let her approach the tub.

“I’ve never done this before,” she said nervously. “Except in biology class… on dead frogs, which were, hey… dead. So maybe that’ll help… dead frogs, dead Angel… hopefully it won’t turn out like my frogs though, their innards all twisted around when I couldn’t find their veins…”

Angel turned sharply to look at Giles in an are you serious? manner. The Brit just shrugged his shoulders and smirked.

She cut the vampire’s shirt lengthwise to expose his bicep and began wrapping the tourniquet around his arm, but faltered when he growled at her. He immediately regretted it, when the muzzle of the Taser was laid against his temple in the next moment.

“Do make more noise, Angel,” Giles purred, disturbing Willow. “My finger’s a little… itchy.”

The vampire ceased his struggles as Willow began poking around for an exposed vein, the yellowing of his eyes at her missed attempts his only reaction. Finally, she found a rather large, blue vein near the surface at the crux of his elbow and bicep, stabbing him with the large needle.

“Found it!” she squealed in accomplishment.

“AAARRRRGGGGGHHHH!!”

He began struggling when his blood sprayed Willow’s shirt and face, the needle still stuck in his arm. “Stop that! We’re losing blood!”

“Move away, Willow!” Giles yelled as he pushed her to the side of the room. He pulled the syringe out and slapped a gauze pad over the wound, glaring at the vampire.

Gaining some backbone, Angel tried to struggle again. “Uffy oud ever et es appen oo me!” he roared around the gag.

The Watcher knelt down in the small puddle of blood next to the tub and grabbed Angel’s hair, leaning his forehead against the vamp’s, the muzzle of the Taser next to the nape of the brunette’s neck and whispered, “No, Buffy wouldn’t let this happen. Never. That’s why she’s upstairs with someone who’d never put her in this situation. As much as she hates you right now, she’d still spare your pathetic, souled un-life. She even knows that Angelus will re-emerge sooner or later, and make her pay for that mercy, and the world with her. But you see, she's a hero… she's not like us.”

“Ike us?” Angel whimpered, tensing when Giles’ grip tightened.

He looked into the vampire’s eyes. “Cold blooded killers.” He stood and fired the prongs into the vampire’s shoulder and watched him writhe in agony until he slumped to the side, unconscious.

“Giles?” Willow murmured from near the door.

“Finish up, he won’t be out long.” His tone was cold as he sat on the toilet-lid, watching Angel for any signs of waking.

She nodded and numbly resumed her poking until she found a suitable vein and began draining the blood into the pint-sized pouches that came with the kit. She didn’t dare look at the Watcher, fearful of angering him further, and instead, filled up four bags before the vampire showed any movement at all.

Giles was about to zap him again when Willow stopped him. “He’ll probably need to eat and I need to draw a pint from everyone else, so…”

“Go on then, and have Xander bring in three pouches of blood. The bastard can drink them cold.”

Edging out the door with Angel’s contribution, she fled to the kitchen and started washing off the remnants of blood that still clung to her hair and face, trying not to cry. That’s how Xander found her.

“Hey, Wils, you okay?” he asked, patting her shoulder.

“He’s scaring me,” she sniffled, wiping her cheeks with a wet rag.

“Well, Angel is quite the monster-”

“No! I mean Giles! I mean, they both are! I don’t think you should leave those two alone with each other, they might do serious damage.” An audible sob caught in her throat.

“Is everything okay?” Tara asked meekly from across the counter, watching her friend’s eyes well up with fresh tears.

“Seems like Giles isn’t over Jenny’s death via the pointed-tooth fairy of Death,” Xander muttered. “Want me to go back in there with you?”

Willow shook her head. “No, he wants you to bring in some bags of blood so Angel can recoup and I need to get the human blood drawn so I can transfuse this stuff, and-and…” she blathered, finally stopping to sob her heart out. “I’m just a kid, for goodness sakes – I’m not a nurse, or-or a doctor that knows how to do this!”

Tara immediately moved into the kitchen and drew the redhead into a comforting hug, stroking her hair in a loving manner. “Go ahead, Xander, I’ll take care of her.”

He nodded, opening the fridge and getting a few bags out to warm up in the microwave.

“No!” Willow shouted then grimaced. “He wants you to bring it to him cold.”

Xander looked at the bags with disgust. “Mmm, blood sludge… what a nummy treat.”

He left the kitchen and headed towards the bathroom, knowing it was going to be a long day.

~*~

Giles had to give every single person within his apartment, baring Angel of course, a fair amount of credit for putting up with each other over a period of three days. Cordy’s endless whining, Anya’s desperate pleading for Xander to leave so they could have sex in the car, Willow’s constant pacing and worrying that she’d done something wrong – the ever faithful Tara shuffling close behind her, and Buffy – who never left Spike’s side, except to relieve herself.

Writing in his Watcher’s diary, Giles recalled the procedure in great detail, penning it in the ledger in case further study was required.

Willow finally obtained ten pints of Angel’s blood, leaving him emaciated, near to the state Spike was in, Giles having denied him replenishment after the last pint was drawn. He knew it was petty, but he wanted the brooding vamp to brood a little more, to suffer as he had suffered.

The tricky part lay in actually transfusing the blood, since the ratio was one pint transfused over a period of four hours without any lapses. When Willow became too exhausted to continue, Giles took over, as they worked in shifts. They first transfused three pints of Angel’s blood, which took them into the evening hours of that first day. Buffy had refused to let anyone else donate blood, until she became too weak to protest once Willow had drawn three pints from her. She then drew a pint each from Xander, Anya, and Tara, saving Giles and herself in case they needed more.

Spike received a total of ten pints from Angel, three from Buffy, and the three remaining pints from the rest of the group over a sixty-four hour period. Not once did he twitch or move, or even blink an eye during the entire process. And now, restored to pre-chip health, blood-wise that was, he still hadn’t moved. Buffy never removed the ring, feeling that whatever regenerative abilities it possessed would be of great use while Spike fought to regain consciousness.

They’d just transfused the final pint of Angel’s blood a little over an hour ago, and everyone was exhausted, their nerves frayed. Buffy ate little, if anything, while watching over the blond vampire and no one tried to make her eat, all of them knowing if they were in her position, they’d be doing the same.

The manual stated that the vampire was to show signs of life after forty-eight hours, possibly sooner once the process began, but that hadn’t happened with Spike. They were going on seventy hours now, and while his body complied with the instructions, his spirit had not.

No one restrained or chained him to a metal slab, as the book indicated since he’d supposedly become a raving lunatic once he awoke. His condition was too frail to allow it so he remained in the bed.

Every so often, Giles would check on his condition, watching Buffy purse her lips in frustration when he shook his head in the negative. He noted that Spike’s eyeballs began to occlude with blood; his surface veins and varicosities began turning blue, purple, and red again. His body showed every sign that the process was a success, yet he hadn’t woke.

“He just needs more time,” Buffy would murmur every time Giles checked on him. He’d nod quietly and shut the door, not having the heart to tell her otherwise.

~*~

On or about the sixth day, Giles decided to send everyone home, including Angel. Cordy became stable enough, though not enough in Xander’s opinion, to drive herself and the withered vampire back to L.A.

“What am I supposed to do with him when I get there? Doyle’ll think it’s my fault, I won’t get my Coach handbag, and I’ll be out of a job! Do you know how hard it is to find a job in L.A.? Like one that even pays?” she groused while Giles helped her load Angel’s weakened body into the back of the convertible.

“I should think you’d be grateful you’re still alive after that stunt you pulled with the Commandos,” he reminded her, throwing a tarp over the vampire’s prone form.

Throwing her purse on the passenger’s side, she sat in the driver’s seat and glared at him. “You’d better send me directions on how to fix him, mister ex-librarian!”

“And if I don’t?”

She closed her eyes and blew out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know no one around here wants him gone faster than Buffy does, but he’s my boss and… I need him.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed just as heavily. “I’ll have Willow send you the instructions in a day or so.”

“Thanks,” she said with nod as she started the engine then pulled away from the curb to speed down the street and far away from Sunnydale.

~*~

By the eighth day, Giles lost hope.

For all intents and purposes, Spike looked like he was in a heavy, deep sleep. His fingers had regenerated and the stitching in his head removed, the wound having healed completely by day five. His only worry now was that if Spike did wake up, what exactly would they be dealing with? A revenant from Hell… or worse, another version of Angelus?

“Buffy, may I speak with you?” he asked, quietly entering the room.

“Sure,” she whispered hoarsely. She’d been crying and her voice sounded raw with pain.

He sat in the over-stuffed chair once again; the place where he’d sat when this all began, and laced his fingers together, almost in a pleading gesture. “It’s been eight days, Buffy…”

“He just needs more time,” she muttered automatically, not really hearing her Watcher until he raised his voice.

“What if he doesn’t need more time? What if he is beyond us, already gone?”

Tears she didn’t think she had left formed in her eyes once more. “He’s there, I know it - he’s got…” she trailed off, staring blankly at the wall.

When she didn’t continue, he pressed harder for an answer. “He’s got what, Buffy?”

A heaving sob escaped her mouth. “A soul.”

He was quiet for a very long time then finally asked, “How do you know?”

“I’ve seen it.” Her declaration came with a watery smile. “I’ve felt it, and he would never leave me… never,” she whispered fervently.

“Buffy, I think you’re still going through one of the stages of grief – denial. I honestly believe Spike is no longer with us.”

She shook her head violently, practically screaming out her next words. “NO! He’s here, in this body… he’s just sleeping!”

Giles stood and yelled back at her. “If he’s in there, then he’s a raving madman, Buffy! I love you dearly, but I will not endure your inability to put an end to a feral and mindless creature’s rampage just because you have feelings for it!”

He might have slapped her for all that she recoiled from him. “Get out,” she snarled in a deadly tone, advancing on her Watcher until he backed out of the doorway. Once he was in the hallway, she shut the door and bolted it, dragging a chair to prop up under the knob so that he wouldn’t enter.

His banging and screams barely registered as she walked to Spike’s bedside and gazed at him lovingly. She knew he had a soul, even if no one else believed her. She also knew he would go to a good place, because she would fight tooth and nail if the powers-that-be tried to send him to Hell. He wasn’t Angel; he didn’t deserve the flames that licked Angelus’ boot heels.

What Giles didn’t know, was that she was also afraid Spike would return in a worse state than Angel had ever been in, she just hadn’t wanted to admit it. She couldn’t reconcile the idea of the Spike she’d come to know as a crazed, killing machine, hell-bent on their destruction, she couldn’t do that scenario again.

Trying one last time to rouse him, she pleaded, “Spike, c’mon! You have to wake up!” When no response came, she slapped his cheek in desperation. “Wake up, you stupid vampire! You can’t leave me here like this,” she sobbed. “You can’t leave me here…”

The banging from the door became louder, bringing Buffy back to the reality that Spike… was… gone. She traced his sculpted features with her eyes and fingers, memorizing his visage before it was gone forever. Knowing Spike would’ve wanted the Slayer to be the one that ended his existence, she closed her eyes and prayed to God to have mercy on her soul.

Bending low, she placed a kiss on his cool forehead, her tears seeping into his hair as she whispered, “I love you.” Rising up, she pulled open the nightstand drawer and took out the large Bowie knife she’d taken with her to the Army compound, having stashed it away for future slaying missions. Only, she never counted on using it for the purpose that lay before her.

Holding the knife high above her head, she whispered to him, “Keep your eyes closed, baby.” She then plunged her hand downwards, towards his heart.

Swimming up from the darkness, Spike’s eyes fluttered open, only to see an enormous blade thrusting towards his chest, her hands wrapped around it, his throat moving to voice her name.

“Buffy?”


Chapter End Notes:
Okay.... nooooo killing! I've already gotten evil glares from my betas... and they'll do horrible things to me if I don't finish! LOL! No, honestly, I promise - the LAST, the FINAL chapter will be up soon and will wrap up EVERYTHING - and include SPUFFYNESS - YAY!



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