Spike set out on top of the world. He and Buffy had made up and Tara seemed to be a bit of all right with it. He'd just been shagged within an inch of his unlife and set out to play with all the other demons while his girl studied for her finals.
The only thing that would make things better was if she were out fighting by his side, but having some private violence was nice, too.
He worked his way methodically through the town's cemeteries, taking his time. He knew most fledges rose closer to midnight, rather than earlier in the evening.
Running into the Fyarl demons had been a bit of a surprise, he'd hadn't seen on in these parts since he was the Big Bad.
They were talking amongst themselves, muttering something about warriors in their own language.
A language Spike fortunately, or rather unfortunately tonight, spoke fluently.
He killed the first unannounced with the sword he was carrying and held the blade to the other's throat.
“What's this about warriors in town?” He demanded in the harsh snarls that made up the demon tongue.
Listening carefully and getting him to repeat it more than once, Spike tried to translate the limited vocabulary to what it could mean in English.
Something was praying on Sunnydale's demon population in a big way. He had a bad feeling about this.
After a brief fight and a quick kill with the remaining Fyarl Spike made his way to Clem's to get his ear to the ground.
* * *
The info was not good. The soldiers, it turned out, government sponsored demon hunters.
That in itself would be fine, but they didn't stop at killing the creatures they captured. They were known for experimenting, for techno-leashes and for other things Spike hoped weren't true.
He wrapped up patrol in Restfield with this new information buzzing in his mind.
“I heard they got your sire.”
Spike turned to spy a vampire that looked at least a few years turned, a rarity in this town.
“Dru? What about Dru?” Spike demanded.
“No, the big guy. Angelus.”
Spike realized the vampire must have been turned in Angelus' hey day, “He's not my sire. And who has him?”
“The soldiers. The Initiative.”
Spike felt cold all over suddenly, “Where are they keeping them?”
“You can't go in there, man. It's suicide. For get him, he's long gone.”
Spike felt a white lick of rage sweep through him. He beheaded the chatty vampire with one sweep of the broad sword and felt no better afterward.
* * *
Walking home, Spike actually entertained the thought of not telling anyone what he knew. This would only endanger Buffy and himself if they tried to get the Poof loose and they might not even succeed.
And he was pretty sure if the positions were reversed, Angel would just let him dust.
But Spike's private behavioral codex read 'What Would Tara Do?' and it would never let him knowingly leave someone in peril. Even if he thought said someone deserved it. Even if no one would ever know he knew if he just kept his mouth shut.
All he could think of was Buffy's eyes as she gazed down at him, riding him to climax. She trusted him. She said so in her eyes if not in her words.
How could he look back in those eyes always thinking out the Poof and how he didn't even tell her about it?
Every part of him was in conflict, despite the fact that he had already decided what to do. He clambered up the stairs in the empty house. The girls were all at the library studying.
He changed into his black jeans and a black t-shirt. He pulled on his trusty Doc Martens and slid into the familiar duster that had sat in his closet for the last week or so. He only wore it when they went out now.
Before he left the house, he reached under the bed and located the heavy-duty gel and slicked his dark blond curls back harshly.
This wasn't a job for William, or any incarnation of him. Only the Big Bad could pull this off, and Spike had to remember who that was.
He swirled out the door in the flurry of leather and stomped off to buy smokes before heading to the Watcher's.
He would tell Buffy and the others when their schoolwork was done. In the mean time, he had better start out with a battle plan and the Watcher was his best bet.
* * *
“No, I bloody well don't think you should even tell Buffy at all.”
The Watcher's response to his news stunned the vampire into silence. He'd been so certain he was doing the right thing, but this man had a soul, surely he would know better?
He really wished Tara were here.
“Let the git dust if he was stupid enough to get himself caught. I will not let you endanger Buffy in an effort to get him free. She can fight demons but human soldiers are not on under her jurisdiction. They may even be helping us if what you've told me is true. Maybe we shouldn't trust them, or what they might actually be up to, but getting Buffy to dash into a secure military base is a very fast way of getting her shot.”
Spike felt a bit stupid now. All his reasoning felt ridiculous, he was so sure he had made the right choice. But then he had been sure he was right with Julia, too.
After promising the Watcher he would keep his mouth shut (and crossing his fingers behind his back the entire time) he glumly made his way back to the house.
* * *
It was a morose Spike that found his home turned into a mini version of the school library. All three girls were happily sequestered reading, writing, highlighting, and turning down page corners.
They looked up in surprise at the blast from the past look Spike was sporting.
“What happened?” Tara asked immediately, knowing the return of Evil Spike outfit could only mean something had stirred up his need to construct the protective wall the clothes and the attitude created.
“Giles told me not to tell you.” Spike stamped out his cigarette in the sink, mindful of Tara asthma. They weren't as good as he remembered.
Buffy immediately bristled, “What did he tell you not to tell me? If he's going into 'let's protect her from herself' mode again I'm taking him out. I mean it.”
“Overheard some demons talking about them soldier types that have been hanging about…”
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