With bones shifting and cracking, Spike changed into his demon visage and looked up at the intruder with a dangerous glare. Buffy slowly turned on Spike’s lap towards the soldier looming in the doorway.
A look of pure hatred contorted Riley’s apple-pie face and his mouth twitched in disgust. He stepped nearer. “Still all high and mighty, Buffy? You threw me away because I let vampires bite me. Now look at you, getting suck-jobs yourself by your fangless pet vampire. Hung up on the rush; how good does it feel to be a junkie?”
His burning gaze went to Spike. “Does she beat you up, animal, after she uses you?”
Enraged, Spike growled and shifted on his seat. Nobody called his love names, least of all the git who left her when she needed help the most.
Buffy placed her hand on his shoulder. “Stay calm, it’s my mess to handle.”
Spike took a deep breath and met her eyes – they were resolute, it wasn’t up for debate. He shook off his demon and patted her backside. He just couldn’t resist rubbing it in to Soldier-boy that now he was the lucky guy.
Buffy stood up, straightening her shirt and throwing her hair over her shoulder, deliberately displaying her bare, unmarred neck to the soldier. She stalked over to the door, every step crackling with her rage.
“First, Spike’s neither an animal, nor anything like your vamp-hos.”
Riley snarled and opened his mouth, but Buffy interrupted with a hard glare.
“Second, you left me standing at the helipad, not even having the guts to look back. Instead of facing the mess you made, you ran off. What I do is none of your business anymore so keep your opinion to yourself and be civil to my friends as long as you’re in my town.”
She was glorious, standing in front of the hulk, face stern and commanding. Cold waves of anger chilled the air and Whitebread cautiously backed off.
“Buffy, seeing you there, I assumed…”
“You assumed - that’s what you do. You have stereotypes and you normally assume the worst. I don’t think you and me would have worked out, but you didn’t even give us a chance. You left me, knowing my mom was seriously ill and a big bad was gunning for us.”
Buffy shook her head. “You’re a real, all American hero,” she added sarcastically.
His girl was a force of nature that soldier-boy wasn’t used to. Riley watched Buffy intently, like a mouse watching a snake ready to strike.
Buffy, with arms akimbo, bore down on him. “If not for my friends’ help, and that especially includes Spike, you wouldn’t be here. Your special forces would be dead after battling in vain against the flood. In fact, the whole world would’ve been sucked into hell; demons roaming the earth.”
“Staying here and helping us under my command would’ve been better for the world than fighting skirmishes in Central America. You said you went with the military because they wanted you back. I probably should’ve told you that I needed you more, but I don’t order people to help me. They volunteer; they help, because it’s the right thing to do.”
Buffy folded her arms, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I thought you were looking through the police reports. So…why did you follow me instead of searching for clues?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Buffy.” Riley protested. “We got intel that someone is offering Suvolte eggs on the black market. The guy’s calling himself ‘The Doctor’.” The soldier pointed his finger at Spike. “He must know something about it. Maybe he’s even ‘The Doctor’ himself. Look at his boots and his jeans!”
Spike looked down at his mud covered Docs and soaked legs and shrugged. “What’s wrong with them? Since when did you join the fashion police?”
Buffy suppressed a slight smile and explained to Spike. “The Sulfur demons Riley’s looking for nest in dark, damp, and muddy areas. Have you heard of any new baddies in town, settling down in the sewers or caves?”
“Ask him where he got his boots dirty, Buffy. He’s hiding something. And it’s called a Suvolte demon.” Riley corrected.
Buffy turned back to Riley and rolled her eyes. “Your boots tell me that you haven’t done any serious searching yet.” She frowned down at Riley’s clean and shining combat boots. “I can’t see why the state of Spike’s boots is relevant. I trust him. Besides, he hasn’t done anything stupid in a good long time - unlike you.”
Spike’s heart blazed at this display of trust. She didn’t question his whereabouts; her faith in him was a blinding light that drew him in, that motivated him to show her that he was worthy of her trust. What a difference to last year, when everything he did was weighed and inspected for hidden meanings. Not that he wanted to dwell on how he got so dirty.
“Last night at poker Que’uck, the Ragnak, told a story about some nasties settling down near the Induga Dam,” Spike said. “Warned us not to cross the pair ‘cause they’re fierce protectors of their offspring. That sounds like your Suvoltes. Haven’t heard the name ‘The Doctor’ around here for a bit. Not many fans in this area for that show; bloody shame, it’s a classic. Too complicated I reckon, needs a longer attention span than the kiddies have nowadays.”
Spike shook his head at the blank expression on Whitebread’s face. No appreciation for that cult classic there either. Probably also no attention span. Buffy was excused; his Slayer didn’t have much time for the telly. He would teach his girl some finer entertainment first. Maybe later they could curl up for some classic British TV education.
“Where did you get your info from, eBay?” Spike guessed.
Riley flinched.
Gotcha! A lot of posh military intel normally came from common sources or were made up in the first place. Spike had faked some in his time; that had been quite an easy way to make cash, especially during the cold war. After a warning look he received from Buffy he shut up.
“Buffy, this ‘Doctor’ is auctioning the eggs and the bid and interest in it is rising quickly. We know that some of the bidders are terrorist organizations and paramilitary groups. It’ll be even worse if these organizations get hold of the hatchlings than if they run loose. Their venom can be used in biological warfare.” Riley pulled out his walkie-talkie.
Crackling static filled the room until a firm voice said, “Sgt. Finn, report!”
“We got a tip for a possible location, Sir. The Induga Dam.” Spike raised his eyebrows. Soldier-boy visibly stood at attention talking to his commanding officer. There was something off about the commander’s voice, but the words were too distorted by static for Spike to pinpoint what it was.
“Affirmative... We’ll be right there… Over and Out.” Riley snapped the handheld shut and shoved it back into one of the many pockets at his belt.
“If you still want to support us, the van will meet us at the gate,” Riley offered, looking at Buffy.
“I think you know that I’m not just gonna stand here and let you run loose in my town. Besides, you’ll never find the entrance to the caves on your own. Spike, what weapons do you have handy?” Buffy stepped resolutely towards the chest in the corner.
“You don’t need any weapons; we’ll provide them and protective gear for you. Sam’s spare will fit you fine.” Riley stared at Spike. “He’s not invited. He’ll not set a foot in our van. I don’t trust him at my back.”
“Dress me up in Kevlar if you insist, but I don’t go near dangerous creatures without a sword or an ax.” She pulled an impressively long blade out of the chest and gave it a test swing. “I still miss mine, but this has a nice balance. Can I borrow it?” As Spike nodded, Buffy grabbed the scabbard and secured the sword across her shoulders.
Riley was already striding towards the cemetery gate as Buffy stopped in the doorway and quickly stepped back into the shadow of the crypt. She put her hand on Spike’s cheek and gave him a tender kiss. Her hand warmed his cheek and her kiss burned down his throat like sweet, hot chocolate. “I’ll come back later,” she whispered and a goofy grin spread on his face.
“Be careful, luv…”
With a last glance back she hurried after the soldier.
The van waited at the curb like a gleaming, sleek, black-metal monster, crouched and ready to spring. The sliding door at the rear opened and a soldier stepped out. Behind him a slim figure stood up, backlighted by the blue light of electronics beeping, face in shadow.
“We appreciate your cooperation, Miss Summers.” The voice was smooth, diplomatic and – female. “I’m Sergeant Major Samantha Finn, mission leader. This is Jim Miller and Carlos Fezzuglio is our driver. You know Riley Finn already.”
Buffy was speechless. Samantha Finn? She looked the woman over as she stepped out of the van and offered her hand in welcome. The Sergeant Major was taller than her, nearly as tall as Riley and athletic. Her smooth features were polite, but otherwise she couldn’t read any expression in it. She didn’t look like Riley’s sister or cousin, but there was a familiarity between them that spoke of a close relationship.
“Nice to meet you,” Buffy said cautiously and tested the waters. “Samantha Finn? Are you related to Riley?”
A high, amused laughter pearled up and Samantha’s face became more relaxed. “No, no, I’m Riley’s wife. Please call me Sam.” She looked over to Riley. “Relax, soldier. You haven’t told her?”
With a reluctant face he said, “There wasn’t really the right time for that. Buffy, Sam and I married about three months ago. We met on our assignment in Belize.”
“I killed the Sargoz demon that had its claws aimed at his back. I thought it was a shame to lose such a nice backside.” Riley actually blushed at the remark by his spouse. “I’m really excited to have the opportunity to meet a real Slayer. May I call you Buffy? Riley told a lot about you and how you defeated Adam. To stand against such an opponent without adequate weapons must have been intimidating. But enough with the small talk. You need a vest and weapons. Jim, get my replacement armory. Can you handle a FN P-90? They’re pretty common. The Initiative had you trained on firearms, I presume.”
This Sam was a weapon on her own. Buffy felt like she’d been run over by a truck. Riley had a wife and that wife was his commanding officer? She could believe that, whatever man this Sam set her eyes on, she would get him. Maybe that was what he needed, maybe if she had commanded him around like his wife did now, he wouldn’t have run off. She shook her head.
“You can’t handle a gun?” Sam’s voice sounded surprised.
Buffy surfaced from her musings. “Sorry, I know how to handle them, but I just don’t like to depend on them, I’ve seen them fizzle once too often. I’ll stick with my sword. In close quarters, like the cave we’re going, it’s better anyway, no ricochets.”
As the soldier stepped nearer with the vest, Buffy sighed and lifted her arms to get it fitted. It closed snuggly around her torso after the Velcro was adjusted and felt surprisingly lightweight. It didn’t restrict her movement more than her heavy leather jacket. Once she saw how it handled during the fight, maybe she would get one for herself. The Watchers Council was way too old fashioned sometimes, but she wasn’t averse to modern technology. Not if it helped her stay alive.
“Okay, let’s go. Finn, into the back with me, Buffy, please go upfront and direct the way.” Sam quickly tested the fit of Buffy’s vest. “Looks good to me. Close the crotch strap for the fight. It’s too uncomfortable now, but if you have to fall and roll without the strap, the vest will slip up and the rim might dig into the back of your neck.” With a final pat on Buffy’s protected shoulder, Sam climbed into the van and belted into the seat in front of a computer screen. A cluster of red dots blipped on a map centered around the cemetery gate. Trackers?
Buffy slipped into the passenger seat and nodded to the driver. The stoic Hispanic only grunted, put the gear into drive and the monster sprang forward with a growl.
The air was cool and damp inside the cave after the warmth of the early afternoon; it smelled of mildew and rotting cadavers. Buffy scrunched her nose. The soldiers had picked out nose plugs after entering, but nobody had supplied her with them. She shrugged. She was used to unpleasant odors in her line of work. As long as she didn’t have to bring it home with her she was fine.
Carefully, she stepped around the next corner, sword at the ready in her hand. The blazing light of the Maglite’s from the troops behind her glittered on the sharp edge of her blade and cast deep, dancing shadows on the walls. Sam had scolded her team for leaving the night vision gear behind.
The passageway forked and Buffy held up her left hand. Obediently, the caravan behind her stopped and fell silent. She closed her eyes and let her other senses fan out into the darkness.
A faint drip-drip-drip to the right accumulated to the tinny trickle of drops falling into a small pond. A possibility.
Further along the left opening, the air grew a bit warmer and the smell of rotten meat intensified. The ground sloped and the wet, sleek clay under her feet was covered with a thin sheen of water, flowing downwards. A faint scratching and rustling sound could be heard echoing in a larger space, maybe bats, but she would bet on the demons. She pointed down into the left tunnel and waved them on.
After a short while, the passage opened up into a huge cavern, the flat, muddy surface dimly illuminated by sunlight, flooding down in a golden waterfall through a narrow crack in the ceiling. In the center, around a ditch of disturbed mud, lay a big hulk of a demon, blood and goo glistening like black oil on the scaly skin.
Intently watching her surroundings, Buffy stepped nearer. Someone had made a real mess. The body was ripped apart, deep, half burned gouges cut through flesh and bone. Blade ready to strike, she kicked the carcass with the tip of her boot. The muscle structure was rubbery and gave way under her pressure – it was dead.
Sam came nearer and examined the wounds. “Looks like some kind of laser weapon. See the burn scars? We experimented with them because they can slice through thick skin tissue, horn, and plate armor. Sadly, it was too heavy for a mobile device and the batteries needed too long to recharge.”
“So you say that a pocket version of the Death Star did that? You sure it’s not some kind of special effect?” Images of white armored soldiers and zinging laser beams shot through Buffy’s head.
Sam shook her head. “Whoever did this is well equipped and has resources.” She pointed down. “Footprints, definitely human.”
“The eggs were stacked in this ditch, look at the indentations.” Riley stared down into the mud and counted. “I estimate about forty-five.”
The beam of his flashlight danced through the darkness, following the disturbances in the earth. “I detect two different sets of footprints, one is a heavier build. They loaded the eggs onto some sort of buggy or cart. Heavy-duty tires; the track out is imprinted deeper than the incoming track. The prints are heading to the back of the cave; there must be another access.”
He looked up, face grim. “The eggs are gone. We’re too late.”
Buffy went around the carcass and bent down and examined the demon more closely. The flesh was cold to the touch and squishy. “I would put his death at least one or two days ago. In this muck, the body has already started to decompose.”
She straightened just as the other demon lunged out the other tunnel exit at her back. She whirled around, sword ready, and attacked. Her blade bit into the scales and was nearly ripped out of her grip. The beast snapped at her with a long snout full of ragged, razor-sharp teeth. It seemed injured, its left hind leg dragging behind. She bent back and kicked the beast in the knee joint.
“Buffy, get out of the way!” Riley shouted.
The other two soldiers fanned out to the side, firearms trained on the Suvolte, the Maglite’s pressed to the muzzle of the guns, the light beam following their every move, illuminating the fight like crisscrossing search lights.
Buffy ducked a sweeping blow of the clawed hands and aimed her thrust at its belly. A blow from the tail backhanded her towards the ground, her blade flying through the air and landing out of reach.
Sam jumped over Buffy’s sprawling form and attacked the Suvolte with a series of quick, hard blows. Her fists impacted with smacking sounds in rapid succession, reverberating like drum signals from the rocky walls. She danced around the demon and it turned to follow this new adversary.
Buffy quickly jumped onto the back of the beast and gripped its head with both hands. With a grunt of effort, she broke its neck with a satisfying crunch.
“Don’t!” cried Sam, but she was too late.
Surprised, Buffy looked at her, adrenaline surging through her veins as the lifeless beast sank to the ground beneath her.
“We could’ve used the demon to track down the offspring.” Sam said, disappointed.
“Maybe now would be a good time to hit my resources,” Buffy offered in apology. She picked up her sword and the light of the torches broke into myriads of glistening shards on its sharp edge as she brought it down on the carcass.
“Can you hand me the dried locusts, my dear?” Elin looked up from her mortar at Tara who was sitting cross-legged beside her, a map of Sunnydale spread out in front of her.
Sam, Buffy, and Giles were standing in the Magic Box near the circle, drawn in salt on the floor of the training room. The two soldiers, Fezzuglio and Miller, leaned against the back door, eyes shifting nervously back and forth between their commander and the setup for the Locator spell.
“Don’t you think we can locate the eggs without a spell?” Sam asked.
“This is the quickest way to find them. It should work if no counter spell was set up to obscure the location.” Giles answered.
“Why haven’t you done this before?” Sam frowned and shifted beside Buffy, clenching her hands.
“For the spell to work, we need something either owned or linked to the objective. If we do a generic search, we might end up with hundreds of possible locations.” Giles explained.
Buffy observed the nervous Sam. “Don’t you have witches in your unit?”
Sam’s mouth twitched, showing disgust for a second before her features rearranged into her polite mask. “I think it's wrong to engage ourselves in magic if we’re trying to keep the human race safe from unnatural, demonic intruders. Magicians aren’t exactly human themselves and might one day turn against us too.” Her voice had become intense and her eyes glittered with a fanatic fire.
The door to the salesroom opened and Anya slipped in and walked over to them. “Buffy, I have thought about the bachelorette party. We definitely should have strippers. I found some advertisements; can you take a look at them?” Raising her eyebrows slightly, she looked intently at Buffy.
Buffy opened her mouth to ask Anya what she was talking about, but under the ex-demon’s intense glare she closed it again and took the slip of paper Anya was handing her. What the hell was this all about?
Anya smiled brightly and turned to Sam. “It’s my first real wedding. I’m just so excited and Buffy is helping me a lot. She’s my maid of honor. I heard you are newlywed too. Can I ask you about your reception? Do you think it’s better to have a fixed seating arrangement or should I let the guests seat themselves?” The words spilled out like a waterfall and Sam was soon distracted, wrapped up in questions about seating and decorations.
Buffy stepped aside and opened the slip of paper. She quickly covered up her frown as she read: ‘Suvolte demons are only aggressive during mating time and generally avoid humans. Mostly scavengers and harmless otherwise. They reproduce only once during their lifetime. The eggs must be kept cold to prevent hatching. Hatchlings have poisonous venom, deadly to humans, anesthetizing for most demons. They are lying to us.’
Buffy looked up and watched Sam, reluctantly answering Anya’s questions. They had dropped Riley off at the campsite where the communications specialists were still trying to locate and identify the seller. Buffy had noticed a refrigerated truck parked nearby. What was really the agenda of this mission?
Folding the slip, she caught Anya’s attention. “This looks promising; I’ll look into it as soon as possible.” She smiled fondly at the ex-demon. “We’ll get you the dream wedding you both deserve.”
“I’m glad you handle this.” Anya beamed at Buffy and nodded curtly at Sam. “I’ve to go back, I can’t have customers leaving without buying piles of merchandise first - or leave without paying.”
A flash of bright, rose-colored flame brought their attention back to the protective circle. The concoction in the mortar was now ground to fine powder and burning brightly.
Gingerly, Elin picked up the bloodied demon claw beside her and dropped it into the bowl. A fountain of glittering sparks rose like fireworks into the air. They danced like twinkling fireflies in a circle above the map, whirling and intertwining.
Tara intoned a sing-song of Latin phrases, moving her hand above the glittering swarm. At her final command, the sparks rained down onto the map, forming a thick cluster at the outskirts of Sunnydale.
Buffy bent over the map and studied it. “They’re in the industrial park; at the corner of Crenshaw and Del Amo Boulevard. It looks like the eggs are at the old meat packing plant; they went bankrupt a few month ago and it’s still abandoned. I cleaned out a nest of vamps there about two weeks ago.”
Writing down the location, Sam nodded. “We’ll check it out. I think we can take over from here. Thank you for your help.” She strode over to her soldiers and opened the door into the alley behind the shop.
“Wait! I’ll come with you.” Buffy grabbed the sword propped against the wall and purposefully went after her. There was no way she was letting the military out of her sight. This was her town.
In the doorframe, Sam turned and declined briskly. “Thank you, Miss Summers, we don’t need your support anymore. I’m sure we can handle the situation.”
Behind her, the van roared to life and she jumped into the passenger seat and closed the door with a final ‘bang’. Buffy stared after the vehicle as it skittered around the corner into the street. Furious, she slammed the door behind her and angrily muttered, “Bitch!”
“Buffy, come over here.” Still sitting in front of the map, Tara waved urgently. “There is another location on the map. It isn’t very obvious, but there might be at least one of the eggs somewhere else.”
Tara looked up from her perch as Buffy approached the map. “It’s at Restfield Cemetery, near Spike’s crypt.”
Giles looked from Tara to Elin. “You’re certain it’s a hit and not just some random residue?”
As both women nodded, Buffy looked at Giles. “Anya slipped me a note that the information Riley gave us about the Suvolte is at least partly fake. They’re trying to sucker us with some double play. Giles, can you follow Sam and see what they’re doing at the factory? I’ll head over to Spike’s.”
Without waiting for Giles’ answer she swung the sword scabbard over her shoulder and sprinted out the door. Riley had been so hostile and jealous today and the ex-Initiative soldier knew better than anyone else how vulnerable Spike was. Buffy’s breath labored and her heart pounded in erratic patterns as she raced through the town. Until the sun went down, Spike could be easily trapped in his crypt. Her footsteps thundering in her ears, she ran with long strides through the crowded streets, dodging startled shoppers.
“Well, well, well. Soldier-boy’s back. And he brought friends.” Spike pursed his lips.
He’d just come up to get some blood from the fridge when the door was flung open and Riley strode in arrogantly, like he owned the place. Behind him, another soldier dragged in a dark haired, young man who looked vaguely familiar.
“Shut up, Spike.” Riley growled and raised his crossbow. “This time, you can’t hide behind Buffy’s skirts. I don’t know what kind of spell you have her under, but I won’t fall for your play.”
He turned to the soldier. “Jim, drop the scum there in the corner, check his cuffs and bind his legs. We don’t need any trouble with this traitor.”
The broad rimmed glasses slipped down the prisoner’s nose as he was thrown unceremoniously onto the dusty cement floor. Spike now recognized the boy; it was the nerd who’d made him the Buffy-bot. Warren – something. His hands were bound behind his back and his mouth was closed with duct tape. Anxiously, his gaze flickered around the room, eyes wide with a mixture of indignation and fear.
Riley handed the crossbow to the soldier and nodded at Spike. “If he makes a move, shoot him.” Then he tapped the prisoner’s leg with his boot. “Now, Doctor, who did you think you’re dealing with? You thought we weren’t paying you enough, so you have the nerve to sell our property on eBay and cash in the front money?” He bent down and ripped the tape from Warren’s mouth.
“Nobody told us there were hardcore demons around the eggs. You said it was just a simple retrieval job. If I hadn’t had the laser gun with me, we would’ve been done in.” Warren sputtered, not noticing the dangerous gleam in Riley’s eyes. “I think that earned us a raise. We had expenses; can’t you imagine how difficult it is to get a new diamond to charge the gun again? Have you seen what the others offered for these eggs? You were trying to fleece us! Besides, you have the eggs - now pay up what we deserve or we go public!”
“I have something much better in mind.” Riley took off his backpack and sat it in front of Warren. He carefully removed a wrapped bundle from it and folded the cloth back. “I’ll feed you your own medicine. It’s about to hatch – and it’ll be hungry.”
The leathery hide of the egg rippled and bulged.
Warren let out a girlish squeak. “You can’t do this. This is… this is murder! I’m a human! You can’t just… Take the money back, I don’t care, just let me go. I won’t…”
Riley slapped the duct tape back over Warren’s babbling mouth, silencing him. “I won’t do anything to you - personally.”
Silently, Spike had watched and was considering his options. He wasn’t surprised how Riley manhandled the boy, the soldier always had a hidden streak of cruelty, he’d come into close contact with it himself one time or two. Underneath Finn’s cornbread appearance was ruthlessness; this last year in the military hunting demons had only hardened him more.
The nerd was nothing to Spike, but this was his crypt and Buffy wouldn’t be happy if she found a body here. “Hey, can’t you dispose your trash somewhere else?” He stepped cautiously nearer. “I keep a tidy crypt. Don’t need no wannabe crook stinking the place up.”
Riley sprang up, whirled around and slammed Spike into the column. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Instinctively, Spike raised his fist and with a snarl punched Riley in the face. White-hot agony filled his brain and exploded behind his eyelids in razor-sharp flashes, ripping and clawing his vision into shreds. With a loud roar he threw his head back, cracking it soundly against the stone column. He didn’t feel the hard impact as his legs buckled and he sagged down.
Like an iron vice, Riley’s hand fastened around his throat. The coppery smell of blood filled Spike’s nostrils as Whitebread’s face filled his hazy field of vision.
“Don’t. Ever. Try. That. Again!” Riley spat out between clenched teeth and his fist punctuated each word with a vicious blow into Spike’s stomach.
“Finn, stand down!” a voice commanded from the door.
With a last, cracking blow at Spike’s nose Riley stopped his assault.
With agony-blurred gaze, Spike watched as a female soldier stepped through the door and walked over to Soldier-boy. She observed the scene and asked. “Was this really necessary? We take the traitor with us and his accomplice will think he ran away with the money. Case closed. Now we have a witness. Why don’t you just stake it?”
“Sam, he has to suffer after what he did to me. I want him to watch as his dream shatters. He has to take the blame.” Riley’s fist closed tighter around Spike’s throat.
“If they find the body and the hatchling here, everybody will blame Spike.” Riley’s spittle mixed with the blood trickling down Spike’s chin. “The evidence will prove that he is ‘The Doctor’ and disposed of his accomplice after a quarrel. He was just careless and got stung before he could cash out and vanish. That will throw a giant wrench into his cozy, little romance with Buffy. I wish I could be there when she stakes him.”
“The mighty Slayer,” the soldier - Sam - spat out. “After what you told me about her, she’s really been a disappointment. I imagined her as the spearhead in our fight against evil. But she’s corrupted. She encourages magic. Look at all the mages she’s assembled around her and her HQ is a magic shop!” Her mouth twitched as if she’d swallowed some vile medicine. “You say she’s intimate with this vampire? Even if it’s neutered, it’s still a demon, a vicious, dirty animal. How can she even touch it?”
A muffled sound came from behind Sam and she quickly spun around in alarm.
Buffy stood inside the doorway, crossbow in hand, the unconscious soldier that had been standing guard crumpled at her feet.
“Let him go, Riley.” Her voice was cold as ice, her eyes flashing in hot anger.
Riley loosened his grip but didn’t step back. “Buffy, you’ve got to believe me. Spike is ‘The Doctor’! We just came in time…”
“One… Two…” Buffy’s gaze speared the commando while the tip of her crossbow pointed unwavering at Sam’s unprotected neck.
Stepping backwards, Riley held up both hands, palms out in a conciliatory gesture. “Buffy, you’ve to understand…”
“Spike, grab their weapons and take care of the egg.” Buffy’s voice was clipped and precise, her attention fixed on the commandos. “Hands up, Sam. Step over to Riley.”
Spike shook off the pain-induced haze and quickly assembled the guns and knives from the commandos. Sam flinched as he came near and sucked in her breath. Stupid, bigoted bint. He couldn’t resist and sniff at her neck, chuckling as a tremble ran through her body and the pungent smell of her fear hit his nostrils.
He dropped the weapons into his chest and picked out a huge ax. With quick strokes he cut the egg and its contents into small pieces. These critters were dangerous and he didn’t fancy one in the neighborhood.
Blood and gore splattered all over Warren who tucked in his legs and started rocking back and forth, whimpering, his eyes firmly squeezed shut.
Buffy closed the crypt door behind her. “What shall I do with you? I don’t kill humans – normally. But I’m tempted to ignore that rule just this once. You know what they say; rules are made to be broken.”
She scowled at the pair. “You haven’t learned your lessons, Riley. Always falling for fanatic, power-hungry bitches. First Professor Walsh, now your over-ambitious, sanctimonious wife. I don’t need Psych 101 to see the pattern emerging here.”
Wife? Spike’s head whipped around and he studied the couple, standing before his Slayer. He smirked as he saw the glare on Sam’s face. “Got you a nice one, farm-boy…”
“Shut up, Spike,” Buffy said absentmindedly. “Wrap them up with the duct tape. I want their full attention. No skedaddling.”
With glee, Spike wrapped up the soldiers and positioned them on his couch. “We could go with some streamers and paper hats, luv. Hadn’t so many visitors in a while, that’s quite a party.” He was pleased to see a slight smile spread over Buffy’s face, even as she tried to remain serious and ‘professional’.
Somewhere in the backpack a walkie-talkie started to crack and buzz. “So, where is the rest of your squad?” Buffy’s question was answered with a grim twitch of Sam’s lips. Buffy shrugged, pulled out her mobile, and punched the speed dial.
“Giles? Everything clear?” Buffy asked. Spike listened in but could only distinguish the odd phrase. A grim smile suddenly lit up her face. “Great, see you soon.”
Spike raised his scarred eyebrow. “Good news, pet?”
“Score two for the Scoobies and zero for the amateurs.” Buffy turned back to the three stooges on the couch.
“Here is what you do. You pack your squad and equipment and leave immediately. If you ever set foot into my town or in this area again, all rules are off. We dispose of the eggs. Don’t even think about trying to turn the tables on us. We have proof on film… or DVD... or computer or whatever, and we have a witness who will give us a full report if he knows what’s good for him.” Buffy gestured at Warren who nodded enthusiastically.
“Buffy, you should be on our side. You should be fighting against evil, not backing up demons,” Riley tried to convince her again. “We have to save the human race.”
She shook her head. “And the human race is – what? All snowy-white saints and innocents? I’ve seen enough friendly, harmless demons and vicious, evil humans to know that the world isn’t black and white. I don’t fight for slogans or ideas. I fight for my friends, for my family, for the decent people – whether they are human or not.”
Buffy sent him a sad smile. “Try to grow up, Riley. Try to get out of this chicken-feet outfit. I once thought you were a decent guy. You stood up against the Initiative and did what was right; I was so proud of you. Now you are back to following orders, blind to what really happens around you. Open your eyes, Riley. Look around!”
The door opened and Giles stepped in. “All is ready. The rest of the soldiers are in the van, fast asleep; Elin’s on watch.”
“What evil have you done to them?” Sam spat out, hatred in her eyes.
Giles’ lips contracted to a small line. “A harmless healing spell, Elin and Tara voted for it. They will wake up in about two hours’ time; they will even feel relaxed and rested. I voted for putting them into the back of the refrigerator - with the eggs.”
Giles, Elin, and Buffy watched as the rest of the squad packed with military speed and accuracy. They escorted the huge van until it passed the ‘You are leaving Sunnydale’ sign and waited quietly till the tail lights were swallowed by the darkness.
Finally Buffy broke the silence. “Giles, I want Spike’s chip removed.”
Giles’ head jerked around and he studied her for a while, eyes hidden behind the reflections of the oncoming traffic on his glasses. “My dear, are you sure you know what you’re asking? Will you be capable of killing him, when he can’t constrain his demon? If I remember Angelus…”
“Spike’s not Angel. He won’t mess up.” Buffy’s voice was firm and determined in the darkness. “It’s not right to restrict him anymore; he needs to be able to defend himself.”
The silence stretched on, like the highway that led out of town, running on patiently to the horizon and beyond.
Giles finally broke the uneasy silence. “I’ll look for information about the chip and how to disable it.” He sighed. “I trust your judgment, Buffy. I’ve watched him and I think – I hope - you’re right.”
“Rupert, I’d like to help. Buffy, I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I once removed a bullet by magic. Any surgery involving the brain is risky, but if they could insert it without damage, then we might be able to get it out again if I can determine the right path.”
“Thank you, Elin, Giles. I know you won’t be sorry. Let’s go back to the Magic Box. Dawn’s waiting and we need to decide what we’ll do with this Warren guy. The night isn’t over yet.”