*Summers residence, next afternoon*
Something was wrong. Buffy couldn’t put her finger on it, but since previous evening's attack, she’d been feeling off. Well, more off than almost having been bested by a bunch of human demon hunters should have felt.
“I’m telling you, Giles, there’s something seriously wiggy going on. The bruises should've been gone by now, and my split lip keeps opening up again and bleeding.”
Her Watcher was frowning as he checked her visible injuries for the umpteenth time that day. “Yes, well I’m sure your Slayer healing will take care of it in no time, in the interim perhaps this will be a reminder about how us normal humans may take a while longer to recover than your calling requires you to.”
She grinned at him. “Sure, I won’t make fun of your taking some time off after we spar again, happy?”
His only answer was a wry smile and a cocked eyebrow. Which brought a pang to her chest, as it reminded her of Spike and his not being there.
“Any news from…?”
“Ah, yes, quite. Dalton was outside until dawn, and he told me his Master would be by this evening.”
The relief flooding through Buffy’s entire body almost made her giddy. “So he knows?”
“About the attack? Yes, he’s well aware.” Off came the glasses for a round of polishing. “It seems Spike took it upon himself to exact some revenge on behalf of everyone.” Giles looked even more uncomfortable than when he’d been telling her about vampire claiming rituals in order to prepare her for any possibility.
“What did he do?” She was sitting on her bed, her back to the wall, and with her arms around her knees. She was sure she didn’t look like the warrior for good, but then again, she wasn’t really feeling it at the moment.
“He apparently played the decoy, managed to capture a team of our, ah, foes, and…” He looked at her in that particular Watcher-y way that he got when things were really serious. Or world end-y. She really hoped things weren’t as bad as that. “Their heads were placed on pikes next to the town entrance sign.”
Her stomach dropped. She’d known he was capable of it, that any threat to either of them would mean he would kill humans. Their truce covered that. And it wasn’t as if he’d killed innocents. In fact, as she was being attacked she’d wished he’d been there, fighting beside her, knowing what his solution to their problem would have been. He’d even told her he was going to kill the wankers. Hearing he’d actually gone through with it was another matter altogether. Sure, they’d deserved it, if nothing else than for what they’d been doing in that old warehouse she’d seen. But they were still human.
Giles was looking at her, waiting to see what her reaction would be.
“I’m sure he did what he had to, Giles.”
“Yes, of course.”
She put her chin on her knees and waited for the sun to finally set.
*
Spike made the mad dash from the sewer to the Slayer’s door under the rays of the waning sun. As soon as Joyce opened the door he burst in, and threw the blanket he was using for cover on the ground. If it hadn't been for the Council lackeys in town he would have used his Ring and been there hours earlier. “Where is she?”
“In her room, up the stairs.”
“Thank you, Joyce.” He didn’t wait for an acknowledgement, and he couldn’t be bothered to apologize for leaving the blanket in the middle of the room as he took the stairs two at a time.
“Spike.”
She was a vision bathed in the light filtering through her curtains when he opened her bedroom door. She was rising to greet him and they met halfway to her bed, hugging, kissing, and touching. He swore he wouldn’t let his pride keep him from her again. Well, he’d try not to let it, at least.
When he was done making sure she was still there, and still his, he pulled back a little in order to look her up and down. What he saw made him growl. “What did the bastards do to you?”
She huffed a bit. “It just looks worse than it is. Apparently my Slayer healing is taking its sweet time to act when humans are to blame, that’s all.”
“Should’ve been more careful. Should’ve made them suffer more for what they did.” He cursed himself on the inside when she flinched and pulled back a little more.
“I heard that you…”
He looked her straight in the eye. “I did what needed to be done. I caught some of the blighters and I was going to make them pay. Didn’t count on them having hidden cyanide capsules in their teeth, though.”
She looked too happy at that. “You didn’t kill them?”
He let her go completely and took a step back. “I didn’t. But I was going to. Was just starting with the torture for information bit when they offed themselves. Was going to kill them anyway, though.” He raised his chin a bit. “It was my right, and you bloody well know it, Slayer.”
She looked away, down, and then back at him. Her eyes were pure Slayer, and he braced himself for whatever she was going to say next. “I know.”
He was a bit taken aback by her response. He’d been sure she’d find some way of blaming him for taking the precious human lives. He smiled wide: his Buffy was growing up. “That’s my girl.”
“While I cannot condone the taking of human life in my capacity as Buffy’s Watcher, I recognize your precedence.” Spike looked at Giles for the first time, realizing with a start the old man had been there the entire time. “And I would have done the same to them for endangering my Slayer.”
“Why Ripper, that’s so very nice of you to say.” Spike got an extra amount of pleasure seeing the other man start cleaning his glasses for what was certainly the hundredth time that day.
“Wait. You said some of them. You mean there’s more hunters out there?”
He liked it when the Slayer in her focused on the important part, although it was dimmed by the reminder there were still enemies out there. He told them both a much edited version of the previous night’s events, ending with his theories as to why they hadn't talked.
“Giles, did anything like this ever happen before?” The Watcher was deep in thought before Buffy’s question.
“Not that I am aware of. There were some reports of various groups hunting demons for different purposes, but mostly were either religion, or vengeance driven. The use of almost military grade equipment and tactics is strange, however. Perhaps it would be best to question the Council further. It is possible there may be more extensive accounts on record that I have not been made aware of.”
“The only ones I knew that worked like that were the Nazis back in their day.” He shuddered remembering the trap he’d fallen into and the subsequent submarine ride. “The top brass was fond of cyanide too, far as I remember.”
“Wait, religious nuts, Nazis? What is this, the Middle Ages?” Buffy’s comment brought an expected response from Giles.
“Actually, the Nazis—”
“I know they weren’t around then. I’m just saying. We need to get more answers.” She turned her eyes on Spike. “You think there’s a chance we could use the bait and catch method again?”
He shook his head sadly. “Doubt they’d fall for it again. Even if they did, who’s to say the next group would be more talkative then last night’s catch?”
“Then what can we do?”
He let out a growl. “I don’t bloody know right now. We’ve been chasing them around town for almost a month and last night was the first time we actually found someone to fight. I don’t know when they’ll show their ugly mugs again.”
That brought a humming noise from the Watcher. “You’re correct, Spike.” The vampire didn’t even have time to recover from the shock of hearing the seldom used words from the man before he continued. “I has been almost a month that we have been seeking them out and around one and a half that they first made their presence felt in the demon community. So why is it that last night was so… eventful, hmm? What changed?”
The Slayer gasped. “We were alone.” She looked at Spike. “All the other times we were either together, or with some of your minions. Last night I was just thinking how weird it was to go patrolling alone after so long right before they attacked me. And you said you were out on your own on purpose. So maybe that’s why?”
“That settles it. There’s no getting rid of me now, Slayer. I’m sticking to your side all night every night from now on until we catch every single last bastard out there.”
“Or perhaps we could consider making it look as if one of you is alone, if that is what seems to draw our foes. I know you said it wouldn’t work, but if we were to go about it a different way, making it seem like a fluke, perhaps it would be just the incentive they need to act, and therefore they would fall into our trap.”
“I’ll do it.”
“The hell you will, Slayer. You’ve already gone down fighting them once, I’ll not risk you again. I’ll put the Gem on and do it.”
It took more yelling, volunteering, cursing, and negotiating, but a plan was finally agreed upon by all three.
~~~***~~~
*Later that night, in one of the many back alleys*
Buffy was being escorted home by Spike after they’d spent some time at the Bronze with her friends.
“I still think I should do it. What if they tranq you like they did me?” Her voice was very low, and his chest warmed a bit at the thought they'd been together long enough for her to know his limits.
He pulled her close and pretended to just want a kiss. “We talked about it, love. The Gem will slow the effects down long enough for backup to arrive.” He nuzzled at her throat. “How are you feeling? Still off?”
She gasped loudly, then continued their hushed discussion. “Yeah. I really don’t get it, I should have been fine by now. I guess I could be coming down with something, too.” She pouted. “A cold is just what I need now.”
“Look at that lip. Gonna get it.”
They made out like the teenager she was for a few minutes before resuming their trip to her house.
After they rounded another corner, Spike’s senses picked up something faint. Faint enough that he couldn’t be sure if it was his team getting too close, or something else. He was about to pick up the pace, just in case, when a crossbow bolt embedded itself in his shoulder. Had he not evaded at the last second, it would have pierced his heart as well.
He ignored the pain, and was trying to see who’d shot him when a soft cry from the Slayer made him look at her.
“They tried to tranq me again. What the hell?”
Two darts were sticking at odd angles from Buffy’s clothes. Luckily he’d given her a specially made jacket to wear which must have stopped the little tranquilizers from breaking her skin.
Spike yelled loud enough that his men would be able to hear him. “Bloody cowards are on the roofs. Get them.” He was about to give chase himself when a wave of dizziness made him stumble. Buffy walked into him, then fell back on her ass.
“Why’d you stop? We should chase them.”
“Dunno, Slayer. Something’s not right.” He looked at his shoulder, noticing he hadn’t taken the bolt out. “Wanna give a bloke a hand with this?”
She blushed, scrambled up from the ground, and started pulling at the shaft with little result. “I… I can’t get it to pull free.” She let go of the bolt and frowned at her hands. “It’s like I don’t have any strength left.”
She looked up at him and he tried not to let the panic he was feeling rising in him to match the one he saw in her eyes.
“We need to get to your Watcher fast. Think you can leg it, Slayer?”
“Yeah, of course.” She sounded anything but sure.
The truth was the dizziness from earlier hadn’t really gone anywhere, so he wasn’t sure how fast he could move, either. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along.
“Then move, Buffy. Now.”
*
The trip to her house had been anything but fun. She was out of breath, her legs hurt, and she was covered in sweat. She would have been even more worried about the state of her endurance, if Spike hadn’t looked like death warmed over.
They were both hopefully safe and sound in her living room, with her mom in the kitchen, preparing them some warm beverages.
“I hate this.”
Spike blinked as if he’d been daydreaming and looked at her. “What’s that?”
“I hate being all with the running from these guys. It’s the second day in a row that I end up at home recovering.”
“Bit new to this myself, but I sure wouldn’t fancy making it a habit.” He grabbed the bolt still embedded in his shoulder and started tugging at it again.
“Maybe we can’t get it out because of the Gem? Maybe it’s healed your muscles around the shaft and that’s why we can’t pull it out.”
He frowned at it, but then shook his head. “Thing is I already tried this before, back when I was testing out what it can and can’t do. I should have been able to pull this bloody thing out.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Or at least you should’ve, no problem.” He went back to glaring at the thing still sticking out of his shoulder. “Gotta be some sort of magic at play here.”
She felt a stab of fear go through her heart. “Well Giles and Jenny are on their way here and they’ll figure it out.”
Spike smirked. “Those two been spending a lot of time together, haven’t they?”
Buffy recognized the diversion tactic for what it was, but was too tired and scared to fight it. “Yeah. I think they’re almost living together by now.” She made a face. “Not that I wanna think about what that means. So don’t need the visual.”
He chuckled. “Got some things in mind for you to visualize if you want, pet.”
A wave of warmth spread through her body at his words, her brain happily imagining some things he might say. Especially since she’d been having extremely vivid dreams about some of the things she could possibly do to and with him.
Her trip to la-la land was cut short by the arrival of her mother with a tray of steaming cups in hand.
“Nothing.”
Both Joyce and Spike gave her disbelieving looks at her sudden outburst, but thankfully neither commented on it.
*
Half an hour. He'd had the blasted thing sticking out of his shoulder, and, even worse than that, out of the brand new hole in his duster for half an hour. And the bloody Watcher was doing a fat load of nothing to help. Instead he was just hmm-ing and ahh-ing at the thing. Spike was done waiting.
“Are you gonna do something other than stare at me, or do I need to go home to have this taken care of?” He gave an experimental wiggle of his shoulder to emphasize his point, only to have waves of pain spread through his entire body. He frowned. With the Gem on he wasn’t supposed to feel that much pain. Numb maybe, uncomfortable definitely, but pain? That was new. Maybe the Slayer’s theory about it being magicked somehow wasn’t completely a crock. Which made sense, seeing as how she was smart as a whip, regardless of what anyone else thought about it.
“Well we’re already all taken turns at trying to remove it through brute force, so I am trying to discern if it may have some sort of warding, or if it may be imbued with some sort of… magic adhesive, for lack of a better explanation.”
Jenny walked in with a soup bowl that reeked both of magic and of something foul.
“You better not be expecting me to drink whatever you’ve got in there. It smells worse than death.” The teacher’s guilty look was all it took for him to understand his fate.
Buffy snorted from her spot next to him. “Says the guy who travels by sewer on an almost daily basis.”
“Well I can stop breathing to deal with that. Drinking swill will leave me with an aftertaste.”
“I can make you some more hot chocolate to get rid of that.” Joyce was the only one who seemed at all sorry for him.
He glared at the Slayer, then beamed his best and brightest smile at her mother. “If you could put some of those little marshmallows in it, maybe it could do the trick.” She nodded and went back to the kitchen.
“This philter, along with a small ritual, should clense you of any spells affecting you. If that fails, it should at least give me a better understanding of whatever was done to this bolt to make it not want to come out.” She thrust the bowl at him while wearing a very no-nonsense look. “Now drink.”
He made the mistake of inhaling once, then decided to hold his breath until the hot chocolate arrived. The vapors were rank. Half-shrugging with his good shoulder, he took the bowl and drained it in a few long gulps. It tasted even worse than it smelled. It was all he could do not to upchuck, so he wasn’t entirely sure what the Gipsy was whispering to the Shafting Shaft—as it would forever be known from then on, as far as he was concerned. A weak pun, perhaps, but there were extenuating circumstances.
He was brought out of his musings by the Watcher saying his name loudly. “Spike. Perhaps taking the Gem off will allow Jenny to discern which threads are from the shaft, and which from whatever that thing’s imbued with.”
It took Spike a couple of seconds to gather his thoughts. It was as if there was a veil coming down on his thoughts. He grit his teeth in concentration, then removed the Ring.
Pain. Only with the ring off could he tell exactly how much it had been helping him. There was pain radiating from the wound, and he was colder than he’d ever been in his entire life or unlife. He could tell the people around him were getting alarmed, and they were probably talking to him, but he was unable to hear, or think. Nor was he able to recall exactly who they were at that moment. All he knew was the pain and the despairing cold.
*
Giles was watching with a growing sense of impending doom. They’d managed to remove the bolt, but the wound left behind was bleeding profusely. Even replacing the Ring hadn’t closed it, although at least Spike was no longer catatonic.
“I’m telling you, this bloody thing packs more of a punch than it should. I couldn’t even remember my own name without the Ring on.”
The Watcher had only seen that scared and haunted look in the vampire’s eyes when he was standing over Buffy’s hospital bed. The time he’d tried to end her life, only to save her yet again. It probably was a testament to both how dire the straits were at the moment, as well as to his devotion to Buffy. Regardless, the researcher within Giles was hard at work. There was something familiar about the vampire’s condition, and he was trying to remember where he might have read, or heard, of something similar.
“There’s something inscribed on this bolt.” Jenny’s exclamation brought Giles’ thoughts on the ailment to a pause, restarting the search for possible culprits. He was no longer convinced they were dealing with amateurs. Instead it seemed they were up against something much more organized and lethal. Until he had more proof, however, he would not burden the rest of the group with his theories.
Perhaps the shaft of the bold held the needed proof.
“Yes, indeed. These seem to be runes of some sort, which would indicate a runeword was used to prevent us from removing the implement.”
Jenny looked at him with growing understanding. “Implement, as in…”
“As in I’m almost certain Spike has been poisoned. What with, remains to be seen.” A sudden flash of memory made him raise his eyes from the runes to his lover. “I need to get to my office. There was a book there.”
“I’ll come with. Jenny should stay here and keep an eye on Spike.” Hank’s voice came from behind the teacher, and Rupert tried to remember when the other man had arrived. Disregarding that as useless information, he nodded his approval, gave Jenny a quick kiss, said some encouraging words to the obviously distraught Buffy, and left with the lawyer in tow.
~~~***~~~
*Gwendolyn Post’s motel room*
Kendra walked in looking winded.
“Is everything the matter?” Gwendolin surreptitiously replaced the file she’d been reading with another, less volatile one.
“The—Buffy and Spike were attacked in an alley.”
“Oh, do tell. How are they faring?”
“The bolt caught him in the shoulder, while the darts fired were stopped by her clothing. I think she must have gotten smart and worn clothes that prevented a repeat of last night.”
Gwendolin frowned in though. “Yes, it appears so. I will have to inform Travers right away.” She looked at her Slayer. “Don’t you have some patrolling to do? We aren’t here on vacation, you know, and now that the resident Slayer and her demon lover are incapacitated…” She left her sentence trail.
As expected, something hard came over the young girl’s features. “You are right. I will do my duty.”
“Good hunting.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Song title from an Apollo 440 song. No beta.