Taste of Juliet
by Megan
Chapter Thirty-One
Buffy opened her eyes and instinctively knew it was time to get up, despite the remaining darkness in the room. She searched groggily for a source of light- hopefully sunshine-but came abruptly back to earth when the lack of windows reminded her where she had fallen asleep. She frowned a little at the continual darkness she seemed to be in these days, and then grimaced guiltily when she thought what the result of light would be. Crispy Fried Spike! She yearned so much to go out in the sun with him, but the Gem of Amara was a risky thing to give to any vampire. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t trust him- or believe he would go all Angelus with it- but what if another vamp stole it off him? She had torn it easily enough from his hand. It could be disastrous. So, the Gem would have to remain in hidden, until she worked out what they should do with it.
A masculine groan made her smile and she rolled over to again be encased in strong arms, burrowing her head into his shoulder. A mischievous finger traced his collarbone and she shivered once she got into muscle territory. It had only been a few weeks but already she knew his body as well as her own, and she adored every cell of it. He was so pale, and cool, like the purest marble shaped into the most beautiful form a body could assume. He was toned to perfection and she marvelled at the quality of his muscles, the ridges of his abdominals, the curve of his shoulders and chest, the cords down his back. She knew there had never been a vampire like him. Even Angel had not looked and felt like this, and suddenly she felt unfaithful even thinking of her one time with him.
She resumed her gentle exploration, focusing as if forced on the smooth skin of his lips and the craving kicked in. She couldn’t look at them without knowing them; their intimacy with her body, with her own mouth and she felt tears rise in her eyes as she felt her love begin to overwhelm her. It was so confusing, these feelings. They were so intense, so full, that she sometimes found herself questioning her belief in their visions of the future. The quality of feeling she had experienced then was so much the opposite of now, at least on the surface, that she felt afraid of herself. How could the current Buffy be so filled with feeling, with love, when the Buffy of the future was pulled apart in torment? The only thing she felt comfort in was that she had always been drawn to him.
The moment she had set eyes on him in the alleyway at the Bronze, just two years before, she had felt a tremendous surge of disappointment to find that he meant to kill her. She had felt a connection in his challenge, some undercurrent that allowed her a little relief in the guilt associated with not being able to kill him. Sometimes she had felt that the only way she could survive him was to repel him, to be cutting, forcing him to stay away from her town. Even though he had no soul, her heart made extra beats for him. Even then the glimmer was there, the need to see him, and when she saw him she craved their inevitable fighting, just so that she had an excuse to touch him. Even his gameface had never turned her away from her fascination with him, and he wore it often. A medal of honour.
When he came back and found the Gem she had hoped, almost prayed, that things could be different, but first chance he got was not to bask in the sunlight, but to seek her out and capitalise on her second of humiliation. That night she had cried herself to sleep, not for the sake of Parker, but for the futility of Spike. She felt betrayed by him. He had sought her out for a truce against Angelus, then stepped up his efforts to kill her. As the memory-induced tears dripped onto the chest of her lover she felt lost in the past. Until his chest rumbled under her ear and she realised he was awake.
“I did it to be around you, too. I couldn’t stay away.”
“What?” she raised her eyes to his, befuddled that he seemed to know what her thoughts had been, and met cerulean blue flashing fire and knowledge.
“We renewed the claim last night. Our connection is stronger now. I could see your thoughts.” His gaze was steady as her own eyes widened in alarm. “You were in my mind all the bloody time. I could never forget about you. It’s the real reason Dru left me. Said I tasted like ashes and that you were all around me, laughing. Not sure about the laughing bit, but she got the ashes right.” His humourless smile had her jumping up in the bed, her horrified face unaware that she was exposed from the waist up.
“You mean, she knew what would happen to you? That it would be my fault?” The tears were falling heavier now and she began to shake as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hair.
“It wasn’ your fault. Nothin’ ‘bout it was your fault. Silly girl! Why would you think that? Anyway, not goin’ to happen this time, is it?” His smile was hopeful and she swallowed, the fear rising, not falling. Her body flashed cold as she trembled in his arms.
“What if we can’t? What if I still die from Glory, or something else? What if Willow still tries to bring me back? And Tara dies? And my mom dies? What if I can’t prevent all that from happening?” Her sobbing grew in volume, his murmured pleas for her to calm having only minimal effect.
“What is it you are really afraid of, Buffy? Come on luv, tell me.”
Her sudden stillness frightened him, but he held on, feeling exactly what it was she was terrified of, but knowing she needed to verbalise it.
“I’m afraid,” she stumbled over the words, her voice quiet and husky as if from years of non-use. “I can’t ever lose you. What if we have to face the same thing again and the only way to beat it is to sacrifice you again? Spike, I felt her- I mean me- when you thought I didn’t mean what I said, when you turned to dust. In the end, it was you that was there for me, you who made me. Oh God, the pain of not having you anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t be without you. How could I be true? How could I be me?” Again she was sobbing in his arms, the steady dark seeming to consume her and darken her emotions so that she had trouble dragging her sunniest parts back to the surface.
‘How the bloody hell did this happen?’ Spike was frustrated and angry. He knew she had gotten an awful shock the night before, the arrow shot by one of Finn’s commando buddies bringing his not-so-immortal existence into focus, but he had tried hard with his tongue and body to erase such gloomy thoughts from her mind. It had worked, too, until she woke up and started thinking about their spectacular history together.
He could only agree with her though; every emotion and thought she had ever felt about him, he had reciprocated. Dru had known before he did. He had loved her down deep inside from the moment he saw her move. It hadn’t been her hair; it hadn’t been her looks, or her smart mouth. All of those things combined to offer him one hell of a package.
But that wasn’t what had captured him, what had led to their bizarre association and finally his soul. It had always been the way she moved. Her body sang to him, her action called always to his heart, to his soul. Everything about her made him want to tear himself into tiny inconsequential pieces just to be worthy of falling at her feet.
He still couldn’t believe that he had her love; that he could wake and see her face in rest, beautiful and serene and alive. He knew what she meant. He had suffered through the torment of existence when she had died too, and though he had a small sense of duty in his affection for Dawn to drag him through the days till she returned, duty didn’t make him live. Only she could do that.
His body reacted to the information sifted from hers- his bite of claim doing its job to make them one-and he followed her into despair. His own eyes flooded to the brim with moisture and overflowed, tear tracks making way down his face. Desperation had him drawing her away so he could capture her lips, his hands caught around her neck and holding her steady.
Thought disappeared as they allowed sensation to take over, frantic to rid themselves of the panic. As his tongue entered her mouth, she tore the sheet away and covered his body with hers. He fell back against the pillows, holding her hard against him, one hand wandering down to capture hers. They were so close as they tasted and sipped courage and warmth from the other. As she raised her body to kneeling, she allowed his hard cock to push against her needy entrance and he was inside, their lips never letting go but groaning into each other’s mouth the bliss of their togetherness. Pulling away a little she followed a steady rhythm of up and down, the slick surface of her passage tingling with the contact, heat bursting and devouring her sense. Sensation overload had her sliding forward, the tips of her breasts rubbing frantically against his raised palms, breathing heavy and desperately as his cock steadily stroked the spot inside her that fired up her whole body. With the feel of a gong crashing violently up against her face, she screamed, her whole body shaking and shuddering like it had been caught in a hurricane. His hands grabbed her hips in a bruising crush as he surged into her, caught in his own slide of delicious. Her arms and legs renounced all feeling and movement and she collapsed against him, kissing soft 'I love you’s' against the chest she desired so much and she fell quietly to sleep. His arms surrounded her and he sniffled into her hair, holding her close in heart and body.
“I’ll never let you go, kitten. You’re mine for keeps.” And he closed his eyes and allowed them some sleep time from the emotional exhaustion of knowing too much about their own future.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Giles stood propped against a wall, one hand occupied with a paper plate laden with cake. Birthday cake. Buffy’s birthday cake. Looking at all the faces milling about the university rec room, he couldn’t help but be smacked in the face with Buffy’s reality. For the most part he could tell that the majority of them were not friends, just others who shared her dorm floor- or classes- and with whom Willow obviously thought it would be a good idea to associate. Nobody was older than twenty, except for him. Well, unless you included Spike, and maybe that Riley fellow. But no one as old as himself. He had never felt so superfluous in his life.
Of course it was a blast for Buffy to celebrate her getting older with her friends, but it was really important that they do something very soon about this Initiative problem. The continual delays for setting up a plan frustrated him. He had tried to converse with Xander and Anya, only to be shelved for food and dancing, and quickly realised that his stories of his own youth were tremendously boring to his younger charges and his lip curled a little in resentment. It seemed his whole existence had come to a grinding halt. Buffy seemed to have everything under control, her hand firmly ensconced in Spike’s. Even that resulted in a small grimace, although he was accepting to an extent- well, the extent that the relationship had been sanctioned by much Higher Powers than he, so who was he to stand in the way?
Willow replenished his empty cake plate and wished him well, and again disappeared to mingle. Buffy finally located his miserable wall occupation and dragged Riley over for an introduction, Spike standing close and vibrating with low yet menacing growls, and Giles felt like laughing aloud.
“Giles?” Buffy fair bubbled with good humour, sated in that way only a true love can be, as well as that hunger for dominance over a foe with too much power. She was awash in confidence and Giles found that he could not deny that he had the vampire and his unwavering acceptance of her to thank. She had gained an intensity and creativity in her fighting skills since mating with the vampire that could only be of benefit to her. He decided to let go of his concerns and just be happy for her.
“Happy Birthday, Buffy.” He smiled and for the first time that night felt pleased that he was in on her surprise bash.
“Were you in on this, Rupert?” Spike’s voice held a tone of amusement, of a hidden message that the Watcher decided to ignore.
Giles was sure the bastard knew that he was uncomfortable.
“I-I-It was more Willow and Xander actually. Though, um, good idea wasn’t it?” His voice held all the superficial brightness of his party expression for the night as he tried to bluff his way through. “I’m not sure I would have gone with the surprise party.” His smile was a little too planned, and to the observing eye, a lot pained. “You know, you have enough things jumping out at you in the dark.”
“It’s good though, everyone here. Of course, you could smash in all my toes with a hammer and it will still be the bestest Buffy Birthday Bash in a big long while.”
Giles choked on cake and Spike thumped him on the back, grinning evilly at his girl.
“Your tongue is acerbic, baby.”
Buffy’s look of confusion was comical as she turned to Spike and her eyes widened.
“Huh?”
Spike and Giles engaged in a knowing look that just screamed ‘for the grown-ups’ and snickered on the side.
Buffy shot them a hard look before defiantly taking a hold of Riley’s arm and shoving him in front of Giles.
“Giles. This is Riley Finn. He works for the Initiative. He’s willing to come and talk to us about our little Adam problem. He’s trying to think of a way of getting me inside the base.”
Giles visibly brightened at the prospect of getting the gang back on track and grabbed the boy, walking him away before Buffy could start pronouncing him in need of more blasted cake.
Spike’s arm snaked around her waist as she watched them go and pulled her flush against his front.
“They’re playing our song, pet. Wanna dance?”
Buffy smiled happily and kissed him gently on the lips.
“What’s our song, Spike?”
That evil grin was back as he positioned her on the space consigned for dancing and began to move slowly against her.
“This one! It’s playing; I want to dance, we need a song. Baby, this is it.”
She had no idea who it was sung by, or what the name of the song was, but just like she did with Spike, it fit. Her head resting against his shoulder, she accepted the birthday dream of her friends and surrendered to good times and functioning toes, just knowing that this year, her birthday would be sensational.
Her night did not end with the party break up, or the running out of cake -Xander had that covered!-nor with the stroll through romantic cemeteries and parks, while twirling pointy pieces of wood. The night ended with cool lips caressing hers and beautiful birthday wishes professed by loving hands. And when her eyes closed at the completion of her nineteenth birthday she sighed in perfect happiness. She had had no expectation of goodness for this day, already knowing that her birthdays were cursed. On another birthday, she had managed to break a curse, though this was a happy one. In cool arms, she slept.
~@~@~
It would be days later before she completely understood the events of the next day. Lying gleefully naked in her lover’s arms, she had come to wake with the garbled throat manipulations of a Fyarl demon- ugly as hell- leaning over her. She shrunk back in shock, clinging to her skimpy covers against her breasts, and then took the time to glare at Spike who tipped over the side of the bed-partially dragging her covering with him- and laughed his ass off.
“What the hell is so funny? We have a demon in our bedroom, we’re going to have to fight naked, and you are having a fit of the hysterics. Sorry if I’m not seeing the humour here.”
“It’s Giles.” Both the demon and Slayer swung to him, perfectly synchronised.
“You can understand me?” he snarled in Fyarl, and Spike gave up trying to be polite, laughing heartily in his face with tears of mirth pouring down his face.
“Of course I can. I speak fluent Fyarl.”
Giles stopped to look at the vampire in pleased surprise, and with a quick look to his right found Buffy to be doing the same. She looked back and forth at the two, before holding the sheet a little closer to her chest.
“Ah, Giles? Would you mind giving us a chance to get dressed?”
He waved about his big horned head, throatily grumbled something, and then took himself out of the room.
Buffy remained sitting on the bed, momentarily stunned.
“That was Giles?” Her sleepiness was obviously affecting her judgement skills, and Spike just smiled at her indulgently.
“That was what I would call an angry, vengeful Fyarl demon, who just happens to be Giles.”
Buffy searched for his ‘just kidding’ look, and groaned when she didn’t find it.
“Oh boy.” Shaking her head at the weirdness that was her life, she dressed then went out to hear the story. Within minutes they vacated the apartment on a manhunt for Ethan Rayne, rage clicking on Buffy’s heels.
~@~@~
When the army vehicles started to follow them, Buffy swore colourfully under her breath. She had no time to think of a plan, and as the seriousness of their sudden situation settled on her she felt like screaming. She only had Riley’s word that he would stop trying to recapture Spike, but that didn’t stop the other hundred or so soldiers on the loose from trying to make a name for themselves.
Understandably, she was against the idea of them splitting up. The Citroen was no match for army humvees however, so she allowed Spike to command her and Giles to jump out and let him play bait, leading the soldiers away from the temporary Fyarl demon. As soon as she rolled across the bitumin however, she knew in her gut it was a mistake.
One thing at a time, she ordered her mind, and she made to drag Giles after her to the motel room hiding Ethan. Until she found he was ambling rather determinedly about eight metres ahead of her. She quickly followed him and encountered Rayne packing to leave town.
By the time they left, Ethan Rayne wondered why he had ever succumbed to the bright idea to change Giles into a large and strong Fyarl, instead of one of the lesser, weaker demons.
After a brief summary with the core Scoobies, Buffy raced back to Spike’s, hoping he would already be back and waiting in bed for her. The place was dark and lonely. She curled up onto the spectacularly unmade bed, and waited. As night began to turn into day she was curled up into a ball of fear, feeling electric currents periodically scorching her neck. Her tears flowed, her lips wobbling in misery, and her heart throbbed in panic.
He hadn’t come home, and she knew that he had been recaptured.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“We’re going to kidnap Professor Walsh.”
Buffy strode into Giles’s flat with an unwavering sense of purpose. She had fought all night to not descend into a mad heap of hysteria, but her blood continued to chill her into inactivity as her fear grew. Images of Spike held captive in pure white cells- electrified glass doors that held no escape- testing and torturing him throughout the night. It had taken her half an hour to stop vomiting and shaking enough to get dressed and make it to Giles’s.
Now that she had forced her feet to move consistently forward, her anger and hatred grew. She had been so sure that she could trust Riley. He had never been cruel from what she had seen- misguided and insecure maybe- but if he was behind this, then… She shuddered, unable to think clearly enough for an appropriate result of his betrayal.
Her statement had been met by a disbelieving silence, everyone dutifully assembled after her rousing calls, waiting for an explanation for her severe instruction.
“Hey, where’s the Soul Man?”
Xander flinched in regret at the ravaged look on his friend’s face, and swallowed hard when she began to cry and collapsed in grief on the floor. Now she was amongst friends she gave in to her terror and her sobbing prevented her from relaying her hurt.
Giles moved forward to gather her in his arms, trying to sooth her distress. A loud knock on the door startled him, but he nodded toward Xander to open it. Riley stood framed in the doorway, sunlight shining around him and suddenly Giles understood. A quick look back at Buffy revealed a nasty enflamed scar on her neck and he at least took courage that Spike was still alive. Buffy seemed unaware of their visitor, completely withdrawn in her grief, and his eyes narrowed in irritation as he turned back to the boy he had been plotting with the previous night.
“What the bloody hell have you idiots done to Spike?”
Riley shrunk back against the doorjamb in guilt, before taking a meaningful step inside the door.
“Just hold on a minute,” called Giles in his steely Ripper voice. “I haven’t invited you into my home. Tell me what you’ve done, you little prat!”
Riley looked momentarily confused by the name calling before resigning himself to their rightful anger.
“I couldn’t stop them. There’s only the three of us that know anything about what Professor Walsh is planning, and after the reports of a Fyarl demon on the loose last night, the troops were out in force. They think it’s a real coup that they’ve recaptured Hostile 17.”
At that Buffy finally regained an edge and her eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t you ever call him that again.” She found it difficult to squeeze the words past the ball of pain in her chest. Fear and desperation guided her, though as she formulated plans on the fly.
“This is what you are going to do. You are going to convince Professor Walsh to meet you somewhere we decide, and then you will help us restrain her and get Spike back. If anything happens to him, I will guarantee you live to regret it.”
All the Scoobies looked at her, shocked that she would make such a violent threat toward a human, but nodded in acceptance of what had to be done. Like it or not, Spike was now a bonafide Scooby, and torturing Scoobies did not sit well with the rest. With a sudden feeling of menace, Xander stepped forward to prevent Riley entering any further into the flat and crossed his arms across his chest, legs splayed in a stance of support.
“Just, why? So, your buddies were out in force. Looking for a Fyarl demon. Why pick up Spike? Was that the order?”
They all noticed Riley’s quick glance away from the interior and knowledge clicked in for them all. Buffy jumped to her feat in a whirl of danger and grabbed the bigger body by the fisted fabric of his shirt.
“Why were there more orders?”
He remained standing silently, not even opening his mouth to pretend to offer an excuse. Until she slapped him and his head jerked back and slammed into the door. Rubbing his cheek shakily, he turned apologetic eyes to her and shrunk a little at her obvious turmoil. Until this moment he hadn’t truly believed that she felt anything real for the vampire. Now, with this group of people backing her up- and accepting her threatening behaviour in order to get him back- he knew he had to acknowledge that he’d never had a chance with her.
“I…might have mentioned to the Professor that he had a soul.”
Buffy lifted her fist ready to plant it firmly against his teeth, but Xander wrapped his gentle palm around it and pulled her away, wrapping her in his arms as she once again began to cry tears of hopelessness.
“I was trying to get her to see that he wasn’t a risk to the population and that we could back off. I didn’t think she would decide it would make him even more valuable to investigate.” Riley rushed out the sentence, knowing his explanation meant little. He looked back and forth at the faces that all stared him down, expressions a mix of pity, anger and horror.
“I hope this helps you identify who the animals of your operation really are?” Giles felt his bitterness rise and felt almost alarmed at the protectiveness he felt toward the blond vampire, never having felt anything similar for Angel at any point in time. He tried to argue internally that it was purely for Buffy’s benefit, but he knew—without admitting to himself—that he actually liked the vamp, just a little. He knew. Someone was trying to usurp his own research into the working of Spike, and he wouldn’t have it. That bloody harridan was due her comeuppance. In a split second he approved Buffy’s plan. Now for a location to carry it out. He eyed the boy, deeply frustrated that there was force about the association and that they couldn’t just exclude him from here on out.
“How much does your operation know about any of us?” He thought quickly of their options, and hoped that Riley and his outfit still knew nothing of the Slayer, and thus Buffy and her friends, leaving them with a number of places to shelter.
“Um, all we know is that Buffy is super strong, but me and the guys haven’t said anything to the Professor about her.” Riley had a questioning face, a face eager for an explanation.
Giles had to be sure.
“So you don’t know she is the Slayer?”
“Giles!”
Four voices shouted at him, but he didn’t even flinch.
“So much for the secrecy deal.” Buffy threw her arms in the air and walked away to flop on the sofa in resignation.
Riley just looked at Giles, his eyes quizzical and shining interest.
“What’s a Slayer?” His enthusiasm caused Giles’s lips to thin in disapproval, but at least now he felt confident that Finn had no clue what he was dealing with. A plan began to form and he merely stared into space for a moment, ignoring the restless Scoobies behind him.
“Your friends,” he began, then waited for confirmation by the supply of their names.
“Forrest and Graham?”
“Are they trustworthy?”
“In what way?” Riley betrayed his suspicion but found himself shamed again by the fierce pack of friends surrounding the tearful Buffy. He saw that she looked weak, wrung out and terrified, and his guilt took on a sharper edge.
Giles observed the changes in the young man’s expression and knew that he was naïve and incapable of being devious. He emanated an innocence that Ripper would have no compunction but to take advantage of, and he allowed his plan to solidify and take on form.
“Are they eager to stop project 314?”
Riley was startled, still alarmed by the extent of their inside knowledge; but since his own digging the three could do nothing but be shocked at the plot instigated by the Professor, easily seeing the disaster in releasing such a monster in the world. What she proposed was way beyond anything he and his friends had signed up for. Adam was under such close security that it had been quite a job for Riley to gain the information, but once he did and presented it to his friends, they knew that they had to do something. So, in ready compliance, he nodded his head. The three of them would do whatever it took, including risking their careers.
“Right then.” Without looking back at any of the faces behind him, his hard voice took on the authoritative tones of one not to be crossed, and he nudged himself a little at the obvious amount of fun he was having. “You are to go to Professor Walsh and tell her that you have information about the Vampire Slayer. Tell her that you can take her to meet with Buffy, but make sure she only takes you and your two friends as back-up. If you can manage it,” his voice was saturated with sarcasm, then shooting a livid look at the commando that was causing Buffy so much pain, “tell her that Buffy would be willing to join the outfit or submit to tests, but only if you return Spike.” He paused at Riley’s steady understanding nods, and then yelled “unharmed!” and made everyone around him jump in surprise.
“Bring her here after sundown, stressing that Buffy won’t speak to anyone but her, because she so admires her from class or some such thing equally saccharine, and we will take it from there. Do you think you will have trouble doing this? It is imperative that we get the opportunity to…convince… the Professor that it would not be in her best interests to let loose such a creature, and from what Buffy has told me, there isn’t much time left.”
The Scoobies contemplated Giles, awestruck but uncomfortably reminded of his demeanor when Jenny had been killed and his Ripper rampage, and suddenly felt a smidgen of pity for the misguided academic. Well, a fraction of a smidgen.
With his resigned consent, Riley left to fill in his two accomplices and Buffy was able to breathe a little in relief and hope. She jumped up and hugged Giles, her eyes shiny. She buried her reddened face in his shoulder and strived for calm. Looking up once again she fingered the burning scar and whimpered.
“They’re hurting him, Giles.”
Suddenly she was engulfed in a group hug that she never wanted to be released from.
“Not for long, Buff. We’ll get him back, then we’ll kick some commando-government ass!” Xander’s angry voice filtered through her emotional haze and she smiled at her would-be protector, glad again that these people were her family. He looked down a little sheepish. “Well, you will anyway. Us? Not so much. But we can watch, and videotape, and make disparaging comments later at the survival party.”
Suddenly her confidence returned and Buffy grinned, the image of kicking Maggie’s ass supremely satisfying, but not before she had managed to squeeze an A out of her. No B’s for Buffy, no siree Bob. With a renewed sense of purpose, the group set to organising the kidnapping, in surprisingly happy moods, despite the ugliness of the situation.
Tonight she would have Spike back in her arms, or God help her, heads would roll.
Chapter Thirty-Four
They were tearing at him, operation slices zigzagging across his chest, arms and legs-an inhuman test of pain. 'Does the soul make you hurt more?' she asked-the blond bitch in lab coat twisting his flesh into mutilated scores of experience.
She lost him; plunged him into the dungeon of his past and rendered his soul blind and useless from torment, retreating to shadows within that would cover him completely. She ground his humanity to dust until all that was left was animal and only instinct remembered his name. Nothing existed but pain; humiliation and a building thirst for violence.
Her tools entered; cut and twirled, dug and swiveled in the blood red gore of his insides, and his body jerked repetitively in nothing but animal impulse. His sense had deserted him, no image of a blond angel calmed him; there was nothing to call him back from their experiments. It was all blank, erased. No champion, no hero, no love. He was a canvass of her creation, impervious to alteration as he now stood, wild and magnificent in his Prehistoric state. He went back, beyond Angelus with whips and chains, beyond William with poetry and romance. Back, back he went to where it all began, a seed with intent. He became. He begun. He was lost.
Tracks of stitches scored his skull with strips of pure white hair absent, telling the story of his mutilation. Oh, the things they could do overnight when inspired. His brain throbbed, his chest throbbed, his skin throbbed, his undead heart throbbed- everything full. They had taken him and punished him. He would try to escape again. That was what caged animals did, and soul or no soul, that is what they had made him.
He was lost.
~@~@~
Riley Finn had access, and he used it. Within the hub of activity he easily located the Professor. She talked animatedly with another doctor before locking eyes with him, and quickly- as well as rudely-dismissed the other. She smiled in warm greeting and bade him to follow. They headed down a stark corridor, all pigment bleached from every surface with only their clothes to emphasise that this wasn't heaven. That, and the groaning or unconscious demons that occupied many of the cells.
She paused behind the electrified transparent door and pointed out her success. Riley nearly gagged, bile rising harshly in his throat. He was speechless from guilt, knowing what this would mean, but justice reminded him of his task. He stayed mute till he could control his body, then smiled- he hoped- in what looked like satisfaction.
"I have some news for you," he told her, clapping himself miserably on the back as his ruse begun.
She gave him her attention, interest animating her face in only the way torturing demons did, and he again felt his stomach twist in objection, perhaps preparing for the flaying he knew they would receive by Buffy at the end of all of this.
"Ever heard of the Slayer? The Vampire Slayer?"
Her eyes widened in surprise and sudden delight.
"Yes." Her voice was breathy, hopeful expectation in the air. "I thought she was just a myth."
"Well, you would be myth-taken," he chuckled nervously. He had tried for amusing but cringed at his own bad attempt. The Professor, however, seemed captivated.
"Tell me," she encouraged, her arms suddenly holding her ever-present clipboard to her chest in child-like anticipation.
Riley felt unable to go on, guilt lancing through his conscience while in view of the ruined vampire in the holding cell. Abruptly, he turned his back, knowing that she would probably see his move for enthusiasm.
"You know Buffy, from your class?"
Her quick nod told him to hurry, let out the information and get swept away in her rush of need.
"Well, the guys and I have come up against her on a number of sweeps, and she is really strong- attacking demons and vamps. I spoke to her today and she is willing to meet with you."
She was hooked, her eyes wide and shiny in her excitement. He knew now that the plan would work, he could get her to them. Her thirst for knowledge and desire to be the first to achieve would override her sense of self-preservation. This time. He knew they only had one chance.
He jerked his head back, indicating the slumped figure behind him.
"She wants the Hostile, though. Has a history with him. She won't talk unless we bring him to her. We can take Forrest and Graham for back-up."
She was nodding her head in eagerness, already planning the tests and experiments she could set the lab up for. Not a batted eyelid or a disgusted leer of her lip marred her calm face as she turned toward the vampire surrendered on the other side of freedom. She stood full on facing him, her eyes calculating.
"He'll be no problem. If she wants him she can have him. Should be quite interesting to see her handle a creature like him."
Riley raised a brow in sudden trepidation.
"What do you mean?" he asked nervously. "I thought the chip stopped him being dangerous to humans?"
"Oh, it did, but we took it out. To see how his brain would heal. We're fairly certain that he doesn't even recognise humans anymore. Back to basics, Agent Finn. He is probably the closest we could ever get to an original demon vampire. But we've drugged him sufficiently that he should be out for awhile. Shackle him up, round up your team and we'll be off." She started off down the hallway, then paused. "Where are we meeting her?"
"In the residential area. Not enough room for an ambush, but she'll at least be hemmed in. Just her and her Watcher. Besides, we have weapons." He tapped his artillery belt confidently, hoping she would go for it.
Her arrogant trust in technology was apparent in her smile, and she headed back in the direction of her office, Riley watching sickly as she disappeared from view.
He turned slowly, not wanting to lay eyes again on the miserable result of her twisted mind, but startled unsteady when faced with the crumpled figure of Spike. He recalled what he had seen of Adam and lost his stability, stumbling unsteadily to his knees. A light sweat broke out on his forehead and he wondered if maybe he should have given in and kept up his shots till after tonight. He wondered if Buffy would help him, then his eyes fell on Spike and accepted that she probably wouldn't.
Spike was unconscious on the floor, curled into a fetal position, head tucked securely to his chest. Riley hadn't signed on for this. Not this torture. Their mission was to rid the Hellmouth of demon activity, not create it. He wondered how he could have been deceived by the Professor's true intent, and actually, was confused as to what that truly was. Her coldness to this creature that Buffy loved- was engaged to marry- was chilling, and he felt frost in his veins. He knew how Buffy would react. She may not kill humans, but he had a feeling that she might not care this time.
He wondered if Spike had ever tortured humans the way Maggie had tortured him and somehow doubted it. He had read up on William the Bloody, the notoriety of their capture some weeks before inspiring his academic interest. He had read tales of murder and mayhem, but mainly the true horror story resided with his family members. Spike, he recalled, just liked the challenge of the fight. He got that. Killing two Slayers-he also had thought it was a myth. Thought the story was a fairytale. A claim of superiority from a Vampire to scare other Vampires. Now he accepted it was probably true. Killed two, and loved one. And had a soul. Buffy said he had a mission in this world. What if they had destroyed him and altered his mission? Could it mean the end of the world? Revelation kicked him hard in the balls. Groaning, he dragged himself upright, careful to not touch the electrified wall before him. Time for action.
He paged Forrest and Graham and they gently maneuvered Spike from his cell, collected the Professor and headed out into the night through one of many secret entrances.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Buffy had felt the torment all night; the tearing at her consciousness and separation from reality. Her body had felt residual strikes of pain, the scar on her neck flaring hot as she spent the night alternating between animalistic whimpers and tortured screams. When she had at last felt quiet, she had dragged herself out of bed and vomited continuously for a half an hour before collapsing on the bathroom floor in broken sobs.
It had seemed to take a Herculean effort to drag herself to the front door her body weakened from her sickness in heart and body. Dread consumed her; commonsense demanded she share futility with her mate. She knew that when they got him back, he would be a mess. Nothing in her experience prepared her for the torn, destroyed state of her lover as Riley's two friends carried him through the door, following closely on the heels of the witch in white.
The Professor had made it all the way into the room before she noticed the scattered Scoobies weighed down with crossbows, and even Xander with a gun. At first she smiled arrogantly, but as Giles moved to roughly grab her and shove her in a chair, her frenzied resistance died down, her searching gaze encountering the averted eyes of her trusted soldiers. Once she had been securely tied to the chair all concern turned to the terribly battered vampire, the room coming to the realisation that Buffy had not moved since he had entered. Her eyes were fixed intently on his figure, great rivers of silent tears flowing down her cheeks and dripping from her chin. Her nose ran and her body shook with the effort of keeping quiet, but it was the inelegant lip wobble that had the Scoobies shoving the sofa violently aside in order to make a bed of blankets and pillows on the floor, providing a place for the two men to lower their load.
Spike remained unconscious, and Buffy felt as though she had drowned in a sea of shimmering toxic air; all her senses blanked out save for the one investigating her claim. She could feel a very minor buzzing at her neck as her healing response kicked in, but there was little to reassure her that Spike was any more undead than one level above dust. There was no recognition, no warmth... 'but it could be hysteria talking,' she thought as she broke through the mist surrounding her and lunged for the Professor. She had passionately clasped her hands around the older woman's neck before Giles had dragged her away. She collapsed across the chest of her beaten warrior and buried her face in black as she cried her heart out.
"Riley?"
The quiet voice came from Willow, stepping forward out of fear for what they were to expect, and hurt for her friend.
He looked up, his face a picture of guilt and anguish. He felt his own once hollow throat now clenching a great lump of emotion as he turned from one angry and upset Scooby to another. His open gaze fell to Giles and he found it necessary to clear his throat a few times before he could get more than a squeak past his lips.
"I'm not sure what she's done. I do know that she took the chip out..."
"Good!" Giles interrupted furiously, feeling a tremendous need to give the vicious fishwife a good kick in the shins.
"Maybe not so good." Riley gave Giles the directed attention he would a superior as he relayed what he feared. "The way she told it in the lab, she wants to see how Buffy is going to cope when he wakes up. I'm not sure how it was done, but I think they've made him go all primal, like back to the state of an original demon." He stopped, his eyes wide with fear. "She said that she didn't think he would recognise humans anymore, so I really wouldn't take off those chains. And perhaps you should restrain him somewhere. I don't know how to fix him."
Giles contemplated Riley, his bluish-gray eyes hardening in measures. Riley saw the older man's body stiffen in response to the apology he hoped was reflected in his eyes and swallowed nervously as Giles swung his attention to Maggie. She sat, tethered to the chair and smiling in self-satisfaction. His furious Ripper broke free and he took two big steps toward her and let loose with a punishing kick to her shins. He grinned in his own satisfaction, finding a distinct pleasure in hearing her cry out in shock.
"What are you? A sissy fighter?" She was unable to control the outburst but within seconds her lip bled.
"Before you," he spat at her, "I had never felt the desire to strike a woman. But you aren't one, are you? So, all bets are off."
They all flinched at the sudden metallic click of a guns safety being released and turned surprised eyes to Xander as he took up position in front of her.
"Lady, you get no warning. If we can't have Spike back the way he was when you took him, you won't be leaving Sunnydale in anything but a crampy wooden box."
Giles looked at the boy in new admiration, and he stood beside him. Men. Solidarity.
Maggie swivelled as best she could and called for her boys.
"Riley? Graham? Forrest?" The three stood in the doorway, their weapons at ease as they gave their own version of disapproval.
"We know about 314, Professor. I'm not sure what your plan is but you've gone beyond our original directive. It doesn't have approval, therefore, you have to be stopped before you release that thing onto an innocent public." Riley spoke up for them all, knowing that once uncovered, the government would not sanction the Initiative any more.
Her stunned expression said it all. She had underestimated her men, her project was now at risk and she understood that she was not participating in a trivial exercise. She smelled sudden danger, and finally her eyes rested on the girl sobbing onto the animal on the floor. Her left eye twitched, her leg screamed in agony, and her face felt like it had gone three rounds with Mike Tyson. The girl was in veritable distress, and by the appearance of the other humans in the room, they hurt along with her. Her eyes narrowed in disbelief.
"But he's a vampire!" Her call to them had Buffy raising her head, sure loathing tainting everything between her and the evil bitch in the chair.
"I once admired you." Her voice was tired, gravelly, and dead. "But how can you judge him?" Buffy let her eyes roam over the lab coat her teacher was wearing before raising her eyes to search out secrets. Where was the evil? Shouldn't she be able to see it? In fangs or horns or scaly wrinkles? The lack of obvious evil in this woman she had looked up to tore at her founding acceptance.
Her eyes fell back to Spike, blurring as memories flooded her of her long-held belief that demons were always evil and could never change. She was so grateful to be given the opportunity to have reconsider those beliefs, ones that allowed Spike in her life without unfair suspicion.
"You're right!" She told Professor Walsh. "He is a vampire. One with a soul. Before he had it, I had been trying to kill him for years." Her voice was dull, conversational. "I could never do it. Because he helped me stop an apocalypse. Acathla. This evil vampire helped me save the world. And I know he will do it again. And again, and again. How many times have you saved the world?"
Her voice had suddenly filled with passion, all for the reality of her vampire and his achievement, despite being who and what he was. Buffy pushed her way to her feet and slowly stepped forward to take a place beside Giles and Xander in front of their captive.
"You once berated Willow during her breakup with Oz, and I told you that you didn't understand human emotion. I was so right. Not because you don't want to. But because you have none. Only a sick," her fury worked up and out to cover the Professor with spatters of hate, "twisted," a step closer, "bitch could do what you have done to him. He has a soul, so he is as close to one of us as any vamp or non-human can be. I don't consider you human. You can't be. You're soulless! You made a big, big mistake." She dropped to a crouch to be at eye level with the woman she had once admired and gave her a steely look of determination. "That vamp is my lover, my mate. We are engaged, and you just made the enemy of a lifetime. You have no idea what a Slayer can do, but lady, you're gonna find out."
Buffy stood and turned away, the sight of this woman too nauseating to withstand for long stretches of time.
"You will listen to what we tell you. Then you will agree to destroy Adam, or I will stand there and watch him gut you on activation before pulling his uranium core from his guts and shoving it down your throat."
The Professor gasped in shock, but anger came to her rescue.
"How do you know about Adam?"
"I know everything. I know that your final touch is a Polgara demon; you can attach the spear thingy from its arm to your misguided Frankenstein. I know he wakes and stabs you through, leaving you for dead. I know that the souped up soldiers you created are going to have serious medical problems in the near future; that you created Riley to be a brother to this thing. In short, I know it all, and I do destroy it, but not before it has killed children." Buffy had turned and took grim satisfaction from seeing all colour drain from Maggie's face, but her attention was quickly diverted by the primitive growls now gaining volume from the floor.
Her eyes teared as she told her friends to move back away from him, toward the door, in case there was trouble. She kneeled down to be beside him, catching her breath at the suddenness of his eyes opening.
Spike had regained consciousness, and he was furious.
To be continued
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