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Chapter Twenty-Four - Enemies, Foreign and Domestic

Death is beeps. High pitched regular beeps. As far as a mystical Afterlife it was quite the disappointment.

Or at least that’s what he thought before he realized his mouth was fuzzy and everything hurt the way it hurt after 72 hours of staying awake. In retrospect he was glad death wasn’t an empty void filled only with intermittent beeping.

The sound was coming from his heart monitor, Wes realized. He wondered if he was meant to find it comforting; hearing his heart go after hearing it stop, but he felt oddly detached from that. Right now, it was reminding him of that time he got shot last year. Maybe the hospital had some sort of two for one special because this was becoming ridiculous. Wes was suddenly very grateful to David Nabbit for talking them into a group health plan and working out payment options, there was no way he would be able to handle any sort of financial issues right now.

Wes tentatively opened one eye and then the other. He was on a standard hospital bed, hooked up to an unsettling amount of machinery in a plain, utilitarian room that was painted that odd shade of seafoam that—it seemed—all hospitals were painted. It was an identical room to the one he had had last year except for the curled up form of Winifred Burkle in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed.

“Fred?” he rasped. It came out as barely even a sound, the girl didn’t even look up from the book she was reading so he tried again.

“Fred?”

This time, the words came out in a low croak. She started, and glanced up fearfully, searching the room wide-eyed for what had made that noise. Wes felt for her, Pylea had left some deeply ingrained reflexes. She looked very nervous when she didn’t find the person who had called her but relaxed into a smile when she realized that it had been him who had said her name. Emotions flashed across her face at breakneck speed, scared, from unsure to petrified and then embarrassed when she realized that there was no threat and she was being paranoid.

She was reading from a very large book on Supercolliders. Wes squinted at it, just reading that title made his head hurt.

“Mornin’” she said sunnily. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Like I’ve downed 8 of Lorne’s Sea Breezes and then got struck by lightning.”

She grimaced. “You’re absolutely right about the lighting part. But it could be worse, couldn’t it?”

Wes did his best to smile back at her but only managed a slight tightening of his mouth. She was right, “I could be dead,” he grinned a little more readily. “again. I suppose I’ve earned the exclusive right to say “again” now. Remind me to ask Buffy what that’s like.”

Fred wrinkled her brow.

“Buffy like Angel’s ex? the um..”

Wesley blanched. Of course, no one knew anything about Buffy and his involvement which was a critical component to its success. Perhaps he should try and refrain from joking around while on medication. “The dead one. Right.”

Fred looked uncomfortable for a second like there was something difficult she wanted to say and then thought better of it. They sat in uncomfortable silence for a second and then Fred brightened her mind latching on to something to do. “D’you want me to maybe call a nurse? You’ve been through complicated surgery--or what amounts to it anyways, a nurse could maybe get you more morphine if you like.”

Morphine sounded lovely, but Wes fought the impulse. Instead he turned his attention to the book she was reading.

“Superconductors--” he had apparently read the title wrong before. “The Cold Facts. reading up on our electropath friend?”

Fred nodded.

“Gwen Raiden.” She supplied. “That’s her name. When you died-ah, sorry--passed out the first time she had shocked you with enough voltage to stop your heart and then channeled more to start it again. They still needed to inject you with adrenaline and keep you for observation and…” She trailed off looking hesitant. “Well, here we are.”

Wes smiled weakly and she returned it with her own too-bright grin. He wished she would stop doing that it made him very acutely aware of how awful he looked.

“She’s fascinatin’ because she physically doesn’t make any sense. But then again, nothing in my life has made very much sense since I was sucked into another dimension, which really shouldn’t be possible but then Angel is a vampire and they aren’t possible either, so really This is just sorta par for the course when you--”

He could see she was about to go into one of her crazy ramblings and to protect the wall from sharpie marker he interrupted her. “Did she take the sphere?”

“The mystical rock thingy? No. Cordy grabbed it. Angel went after Gwen Raiden which was probably a good move because her client-guy tried to kill her with an elevator. But Angel saved her.”

Wesley felt his hackles rise at her dreamy expression. The thought of her thinking about Angel like he was some sort of swashbuckling avenging hero made him angrier than he could properly process right now.

“Anyway, that all happened last night. We’ve been takin’ shifts watchin’ over you.” she said. “I should call and let them know you’re up.” she stood up, but didn’t immediately go to the door for the phone. Wes wasn’t sure if it was something to do with him or if after years of being without it, the phone still made her uncomfortable.

“Fred? What is it?”

She hesitated for one more second and then came to her decision.

“Aw, hell,” she said sitting back down on the chair. “What’s death like?”

Wesley stared at her unsure if he was amused or disturbed. “death?”

“I know how it sounds.” She said blushing a little. “But I’ve always wondered--I used to watch those shows with my mama, when I was little. I don’t remember their names but they were like: ‘I shouldn’t be alive’ or ‘close encounters with the Afterlife’ and I always wanted to know if people actually do find out what happens and no one wants to ask em. But then I never had the chance to actually ask anyone and then--well, when Pylea happened I figured I’d know for myself soon enough and now, I-- I -I--I guess I was just wonderin’.”

She fumbled for a second and took his momentary silence badly.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, just forget it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me I-I-”

“No, Fred, I was thinking about it.” he interrupted. He was very suddenly desperate to keep her there—he very much didn’t want her calling the others. “It was nothing and then it was beeping, I’m afraid. But I believe I was merely unconscious. I may’ve only been dead for a few seconds and those I don’t remember. There is simply an unbroken line of time between grabbing for Miss Raiden the first time and waking up on the floor with my teeth aching. Do you know if she can control all sorts of electricity?”

Fred shrugged.

“Only Angel really talked to her and I don’t think they went into the details of it which is a shame really because its fascinating--” her face fell a little. “but then I guess if you’ve had to deal with being fascinating your whole life you might have other things you want to talk about. She sure seemed to be fascinated with Angel.”

Wes studied her for a moment. There was clearly something amiss with Angel and this Miss Raiden. He would have to speak to Cordelia about it. Fred was fidgeting, her earlier spark of fascination had dwindled and now she was clearly uncomfortable and unsure what to do about it.

“Listen, I’m going to see about getting you something to eat, alright?” she said brightening again, it seemed she had latched on to something she could do. “And I should really let the gang know that you’re up. I have orders from Cordelia.”

It struck Wes very suddenly that this may be the longest Fred’s been away from her room in the Hyperion. At least it must be since they brought her back from Pylea. She had ventured out of her cave to watch over him. The knowledge warmed him considerably.

“Fred?”

She had just been about to pop outside but she turned back smiling expectantly and Wes was at a loss for words. He, Angel, Cordy, and Gunn have been fighting together for years. She barely knew him and she stayed anyway.

“Thank you.” he said sincerely. “for staying here.”

She walked back to his bedside and shoved her hands in her pockets.

“Just, if you could please just not die again, that would be nice.”

Wes chuckled.

“I’ll try.” he replied. “But in my line of work…”

She ducked her head and nodded.

“I’ll call the others.” she said. “Stay away from sockets.”

She left the room and Wesley to ponder just how far Gwen Raiden’s powers extended and if, perhaps, she had any experience with microchips.


*****


Dara Laird was in deep shit. And she knew it.

Just as everything was coming together it all blew up. Epically.

Martin had known it was going to happen. He had tried to warn her. He had tried to tell her that trying to keep William the Bloody in a cage was a fool’s errand. He reminded her that the vampire had: ducked the bloody American Military machine fer god’s sake. And while we’re at it that slayer’s beat them back.

And she hadn’t listened to him. All her theories were coming to fruition and it was difficult to give any credence to nay-sayers when one has achieved the impossible, no matter how much sense they were making. The slayer was pregnant, Simon had found the key: replacing slayer antibodies with hybrid ones. Humans didn’t work since they simply succumbed when the vampiric cells invaded and the slayer’s magic seemed to work down to a molecular level, attacking the vampiric cells and purging them. But they had done it. A human pregnant with a vampire, it was a breakthrough of epic proportions. Not to mention the hybrid she had produced mystically. It was the only hybrid anyone had ever heard of--and she had checked. Every dimension.

Everything had clicked into place, and then someone slipped up, and suddenly everything was hell and high water. Her subjects had escaped taking her hybirds and stealing the Eve. And now she had the mother of all spanners in the bloody works.

She stared at the video feed. She had, of course, already seen it all. All the footage they had of the three people who held the key to her life’s work. There was only one burning question to answer that would bring it all back.

Who the bleeding buggering fuck was helping them?

She rewound the tape and pressed play.

Even in the midst of the cluster fuck created by her trigger happy comandoes she could make out the golden brown head of William the Bloody as he teetered off the edge of one of the train platforms. The slayer and Eve were too far to reach him, but an arm shot out of the crush to pull him back. She could just make out who the arm was attached to, but brown hair was not a distinct feature.

She rewound it and pressed play. glaring at the screen as if looking harder could make out more details about the person.

Nothing.

On the far side of the screen she could see a split second of fire-engine red hair flash as Eve pulled another person onto the train.

They had a team. There was a team that had boosted them out of the Newcastle Facility. But who was it?

It took all her strength to put the remote controller on the table instead of throwing it at the television screen.

They knew all this already. There was no new information on there. They had a team, at least two other people helping them. It wasn’t the Council, there had been little talk of Buffy Summers except as a cautionary tale. The newest slayer was much more malleable and vicious. She was much more to Quentin Traver’s taste, so if they weren’t helping, who was?

Dara switched the tape. The blatant flaunting of Eve buying tickets was an obvious ruse. They had followed up with the train of course, but it had been for nothing. Prague was no help either, none of William the Bloody’s contacts had been tapped. They had to be on the continent somewhere, They were scanning all the ports of departure and arrival.

she had been concentrating so hard on the crowd behind Eve that she didn’t hear the door to her office open. She jumped out of her skin when she heard Martin Woll’s voice in her ear.

“Dara, you are six different kinds of dead.”

“Good Lord in Heaven!” she exclaimed. “What is the point of a receptionist if wankers like you can just push in! Andy!”

Andy popped her head in and looked sheepish. “He waited until I headed off to the bathroom.”

“Thank you, Andy.” She said pointedly. The girl nodded and disappeared.

“Your good lord will have nothing to do with it.” Woll said bitterly. He was holding a flask. Vodka if she knew him.

And just like that, she suddenly felt truly awful. Martin Woll had been her mentor since her years in Durham. He was on this project because of her, and now he was drunk at 1 in the afternoon because she had pushed their IT department too hard one night to crunch pregnancy results and testing and someone had managed to slip through the cracks and make the whole bloody thing crash. They had lost everything.

“Could you take care to announce yourself next time?” she demanded primly before she could stop herself.

“These people you brought into bed with us, Laird, “ Martin continued after a fortifying swig of his hip flask. “They won’t just kill you. they rip apart your soul. They come for everything. The will kill anyone you have ever met.” he sank into a chair and took another long drink. “Why did I leave Durham?”

His leg shot out to kick her desk overturning the one photo she had framed on it. The photo was of a pretty girl, dark haired and smiling for the camera on a bright spring day. She was holding a diploma. Dara righted it.

“Your graduation was wonderful, perfectly lovely.” he slurred. “but perhaps the people whose contract extends post mortem should really take precedence in your attention, hmmm?”

“It is taking precedence.”

The room was tense already but the sharp trill of the telephone actually sent the drunken Martin Woll crashing to the floor. Dara waited for the commotion to be over and picked up the receiver.

“Hello, Dara,”

“Hello.” she said.

“I hear that you have lost our slayer.”

Her blood went cold. Who had told on her?

“There have been complications.” She said carefully.

“Don’t toy with me, Ms. Sutcliffe.” the voice said silkily over the phone. “You know who I work for.”

“I do. I will have something to show for this.” she said. “The slayer was not my only plan. And I go by my mother’s name. Laird.”

“Ms. Laird--”

“Doctor Laird.”

There was a soft rather patronizing chuckle at the other end of the line.

“Feisty now, just wait until we show up at your door. There is a status meeting in two weeks.”

The line went dead.

“Doctor Laird.” Martin huffed, mimicking her tone exactly. “cheeky.”

Dara ignored him. She had a fortnight, some dessicated remains and blood samples. She had to make something work in two weeks or she had to find the slayer.

She glanced at the picture on her desk and took a deep breath.

“Right.” she said. “C’mon, Martin, we’re getting pissed.”


*****


He caught her eye as Mrs. Cho grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the kitchen. He shook his head and made to follow after them and was immediately met with the steely gaze of the tiny gray haired midwife.

That was quite an ability. He was a century-old Master Vampire and despite himself, he was currently doing his very best not to retrieve every towel they had. There was no way he was going to be leaving Buffy alone with Mrs. Cho.

“What are you doing here?”

And then Spike said the three words he had been sure for a hundred years he would never say. They didn’t feel forced, he didn’t think about them until he said them, they were just right. They were just what he had to say.

“That’s my wife.”

Mrs. Cho’s eyes narrowed and she lifted her chin. Spike had to force himself not to take a step back. Who was this woman?"

“Do not think I don’t know what you are.” she said, her voice had gotten low and dangerous. She said the words precisely. “You are jiangshe. You cannot father a child.”

“Jianshe?” Spike sputtered outraged.

“You also do not make babies.” she countered instantly. “I gave you a job. You go get the towels.”

“A Jing-what now?” Buffy spoke up from over the midwife’s shoulder.

“A Jiangeshe is a reanimated corpse.” Mrs. Cho explained patiently. “They keep themselves alive by feasting on blood. They are dead.”

“Oi!”

Buffy giggled at Spike’s look of outrage. Especially since he often used those words to describe himself.

“No, she’s right.” She said wryly.

“Shut up, Slayer.” Spike spat back. “I want to be there to see my kid. She can’t keep me out.”

Mrs. Cho however latched on to the nickname Spike often used in referring to her.

“Slayer?” She said confused.

Fuck.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh, good job, William.” She said infusing the name with her special slayer scorn like he didn’t know he fucked up. “Very ‘on the down-low’”

The old fashioned slang made him smirk a little bit.

“The jig was up there, carrot top,” He said.

“You are the slayer?” Mrs. Cho said, the look in her eyes was strange. “And he is jiangshe?”

"I don't know what a jiangshe is!" Buffy said at the same time as Spike said: "I don't bloody hop!"

“Gong gong?” That was Simon, he and Raj had come over to see what was going on.

He and The midwife jabbered at each other in Chinese for a few minutes. Simon looked sheepishly back at them.

“She wanted to know why we did not tell her that he was a vampire.” he said then he turned back to his aunt. “Gong Gong, the child is human and that’s really all that matters.”

Mrs. Cho stilled.

“but how do you know about vampires, Auntie?”

At that she rolled her eyes.

“Of course, I know about vampires, who do you think you are talking to?” she demanded. She did not arch an eyebrow, she did not move but Simon nodded and looked contrite. “Is the tea ready?”

Simon looked startled. “No.”

She looked disgruntled but nodded once.

“We cannot wait. We should begin now.” she said. “After the exam you drink the tea." She said to Buffy. She turned her back towards the training room effectively dismissing the three men. "You three you go into the kitchen.”

Both Raj and Simon turned back towards the kitchen but Spike stood his ground.

“That is my child in her belly. I want to be there with her.”

Mrs. Cho turned her fathomless black eyes on him. SHe looked floored that he had not just followed a direct order. He didn't move. She stood ramrod straight, still almost a foot shorter than Spike but she still managed to look down at him. When he didn’t allow himself to be cowed, she actually looked impressed. Nothing moved, but Spike detected a very small twinkle in her shark-eyes that had not been there before.

“Very well. I will send for you when we are ready.”

And with that she turned on her heel and slammed the door in his face. He stared at the closed door for a long moment. and then he found himself walking into the kitchen.

“Your aunt is out of her mind.” He said. “I didn’t know that room had a door.”

“Don’t worry about it, mate.” Raj said. “Sit down they’ll call when they’re ready.”

He maneuvered Spike into a chair and set down a cup of tea in front of him. Spike allowed himself to be fussed over. He took a long drink of the tea and promptly spat it out.

“The bloody hell is that? Tastes like fermented yak piss.”

“Spike, how do you know what that even tastes like?”

Spike was still spitting out tea bits. Simon offered him a glass of water which the vamp sniffed and then downed.

“Century is a long time, gadget.” Spike said with a smirk. “And for that little stunt you owe me! B-negative. Polynesian. A century is enough time to learn 6 different ways to skin you.”

Raj grinned unconcerned. He had gone back to his coffee.

“Enjoy the headache that goes with that.” He said.

Spike growled. “I’m going to kill Wesley.”

“Enjoy the headache that goes with that.”

“I can kill without pain. S’just no fun.”

Raj arched an eyebrow and indicated his peace offering. On one of the chairs was a stack of fluffy maroon towels. “Buffy really likes these so I hesitate to use them for baby-related issues, but they’re all we’ve got.”

“Where do we keep these? over next to the poison you just handed me in my family’s bone china? After I open my bloody house to you?”

“Oh please, your girls would live off take-away and frozen lasagna if it wasn’t for me.”

“Maybe I should employ a taster.”

“I doubt that there is anything in there that can seriously harm you.” Simon ventured.

Both vampire and Raj had forgotten that he was even in the room. Simon smiled awkwardly.

Spike took a second to study the bloke. He had been an unwelcome guest in his house, and then he had burned his hand. But he had done so in a way Spike had never even considered. He was human and yet had moved faster than Spike could react which was admirable. He also knew who Spike was and burned him anyway. He might be Dougie Houser but he had stones and Spike could respect that.

“You take a drink of it, then.”

Simon leveled his dark eyes with Spike’s and walked up to the cup and down the rest of the contents without so much as a gag. His smirk rivaled the vampire's own.

Stones, indeed.

“How did you not vomit?” Raj demanded. “I can only smell the stuff and I want to vomit.”

“She makes everyone drink that.” Simon said with a shrug. “Says it’s all the vitamins we need. Also be advised that tea cleans out your system like you wouldn’t believe.”

He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a very large bottle of what looked to be neo-natal vitamin pills.

“But I’d like to cover all of my bases. Please ensure she takes one of these daily.” he said.

“Right.” Raj answered. “Put it next to the coffee. She’ll see them there.”

Spike was staring off toward the closed training room door.

“I should be in there.” he said lowly. “I should be in there with her. The slayer and I have been through a lot her and me. and I should be in there with her, That’s my daughter in there, I want to be there to see her.”

Simon looked startled at his sudden outburst but Raj looked sympathetic. He handed Spike an actual cup of tea which the vampire sniffed cautiously not taking his eyes off the door.

“Why do you think the baby’s a girl?” Simon asked.

“Because of Alex.” Raj cut in before Spike could say anything. “Alex who is the hybrid that the baby’s made of. I guess we just thought that that would make the baby a girl.” He realized suddenly that Simon might actually know more about the baby than they did. “oh God, do you know?”

That snapped Spike out of his reverie.

“No, I work with blood samples and genetic code.” Simon said. “the more senior scientists do the more hands-on work.” he said. “I sit in a lab and stare at a screen.”

“You mean to say CSI lied to me?” Raj quipped. Simon sent him a dirty look and he chuckled and turned back to Spike. “Sit down, mate, they’ll come out and get you when they’re ready. At the very least they need Simon to work the bloody thing. You aren’t going to miss her...” he grinned. “or him.”

The flood of joy that surged through Spike was embarrassing. It was so full, so completely ridiculously pure he was surprised it didn’t burn out his vampiric insides. He had been running for so long, and hiding for so long and trying to ensure that the slayer was okay for so long that he had failed to register that he was going to have a child. That was true. That was happening. The proof of it was in the next room. He was going to be able to be that father he didn't have to opportunity to be the first time around.

“I’m going to have a child, Prasad.”

Raj greened at him stupidly and clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’ve failed my mission to provide cigars, but I do have a bottle of my dad’s most expensive whiskey.”

“That’ll do.” Spike said. “Siddown, Dougie.”

Simon checked with Raj first before joining the vampire at the table. Raj was doling out the Kilmagloran into expensive looking crystal glasses. He was about to sit when a shill noise knifed through the room.

Spike and Raj exchanged confused looks. Simon instinctively looked for the phone.

“Are you going to get that?” He ventured.

“Spike, you live here legally.” Raj spoke up.

Spike rolled his eyes and nodded and jumped up to grab it on its third ring.

“Hello,” he said in the crisp Queen’s English tones he still adapted when he had to be the person that No. 9 was titled to. “Right, speaking.”

There was a short curt noise from the phone.

“Well,that’s quite the story--”

Spike felt his insides churn and then bottom out. He hoped none of it showed, but very suddenly he was glad he wasn’t human. Humans sweat and he would have taken that moment to make up for a century’s worth of not sweating. He was suddenly unsure whether he was or he wasn’t. He certainly felt like he had dropped the phone.

“Right. Yes, immediately. Thank you.”

Spike replaced the phone on its cradle and turned to the two men.

“Sorry, chaps, I need to go.”

Raj arched an eyebrow at the sudden one-eighty.

“Where?”

Spike was patting his pockets, clearly looking for a smoke. He found his pack and slipped a cigarette between his lips. This was another one of those things he never thought he would ever experience.

“Holland House.” he said. “That was the Headmistress’s office. Alexis’ been suspended.”



****

Hi everyone! Thanks for bearing with me. This one took a long time to write because it was lots of new information and new characters but more sooner the next chapter will be in up before two weeks are over! I am determined!





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