CHAPTER SIX - GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER?

Buffy studied her reflection in the mirror, and gave a satisfied nod. Perfect. She looked good, but not overly dressed up. She checked her lipstick one final time, then turned to go downstairs. Spike would be here soon. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to look good for him - after all, she didn’t want to encourage him. Did she? No, she didn’t. She still hadn’t sorted out her feelings and thoughts after Willow’s little talk the other day. But for some reason, she had made a special effort to look nice this evening.

Downstairs, the scent of Willow’s delicious stew made her tummy rumble. She inhaled deeply, and look around with pleasure. The room looked homely. The table was laid for four. The lamps were on, giving a welcome glow. Someone had put on some soft music. Dawn had spent most of the afternoon clearing up, plumping the sofa cushions and dusting.

Buffy went into the kitchen and got a drink of water. Willow and Dawn were both upstairs getting ready. They were all excited about Spike coming over for the evening, Buffy realised. She shook her head. How on earth did that happen?

She wandered back into the lounge room, bending over the goldfish bowl that had pride of place on a shelf. Willow and Dawn had christened them Harry and Hermione, although they didn’t know which was which, or even if one was a boy and one a girl. Buffy hoped not. She didn’t want hundreds of baby goldfish to take care of.

At the ring of the doorbell, Buffy straightened, but before she could move there was a pounding down the stairs, and Dawn’s shriek "I’ll get it!"

Buffy heard the door open, and Spike’s voice greeting her sister. Then they were entering the lounge room, Dawn holding a big cake box and Spike carrying a couple of bottles of wine.

"He brought a chocolate mud cheese cake!" Dawn told her sister, carrying the prize into the kitchen.

"Sounds good," Buffy murmured. She turned to Spike, who was standing in the middle of the room watching her.

"How’s the ankle?" he asked.

"Fine. Good as new." She gestured to the couch. "Grab a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

He set down the bottles and lowered himself on the couch. She perched on an armchair, feeling unaccountably shy. Fortunately, Dawn returned from the kitchen and launched into conversation, telling Spike about her classes at school. When Willow entered the room, Spike got to his feet, and Buffy watched in bemusement as the two greeted each other with a kiss on the cheek.

The evening continued to be an eye-opening experience. Dawn and Willow seemed to find it easy to treat Spike as any normal guest, chatting away over dinner, cracking jokes and enjoying the company.

Buffy knew that it wasn’t just her Slayer senses that refused to let her forget that Spike was a vampire. Everything she had done, trained for, been told for the past six years kept reminding her that this was a vampire, a demon that she had been told over and over again must be killed. Her body may have forgotten that in recent months, but her brain had never lost sight of that fact.

She studied Spike as they sat at the dinner table, enjoying Willow’s vegetable stew and a glass of excellent red wine. He really did seem to be having a good time, tucking in to the food and taking part in the general conversation. Buffy wondered for the first time if he had been lonely in recent years. After all, he had spent a century with Drusilla, Angel and Darla. Then, thanks to the Initiative, he had become persona non grata with most demons as well as humans. It must have been hard ... Buffy shook her head in bemusement. Was she really feeling sorry for Spike?

They finished their meal and moved over to the television, putting on a video and sitting back to enjoy. Until Dawn sat up and said to Spike:

"What was it really like, in those days?" She gestured to the screen, where Dame Judi Dench as Queen Elizabeth I was enjoying a play.

Spike chuckled. "I don’t know, pet. It’s a bit before my time."

"Oh." Dawn considered for moment. "When did you become a vampire?"

He gave a soft laugh. He had known that question was coming. Usually he would have been offended to be asked, but he realised that this was a good opportunity to get Buffy to see him differently. "1880s. Time of Queen Victoria. Height of the British Empire. London had it all, including an innocent young man called William, and a vampire called Drusilla."

Willow frowned. "I thought Angel was your sire?"

Spike shook his head. "Drusilla sired me, strictly speaking. But Angel was the one who taught me. He was the leader of the gang, the head honcho. He was the one I wanted to impress. Everyone knew about Angel and Darla. It was an honour, being part of their family."

"So what’s it like, becoming a vampire?" Dawn asked.

"Dawn!" Buffy couldn’t help herself. This seemed so - personal. "I don’t know if we should be asking these questions ..."

"S’ok. I don’t mind," Spike said. He considered for a moment. "I don’t really know how to describe it. I’ve never tried before." He paused and thought. "In some ways, I didn’t feel like I had changed. I still had the same thoughts. I still remembered everything. But there was this feeling of - power. Immense power. And such superiority. Suddenly, you know you’re going to live forever. You know that there is nothing that can kill you - unless you happen to walk into a pointy stick. All those humans running around - they seem so stupid and weak. You remember when you used to have the same fears and concerns - buying food, paying rent, going to work, wearing the right clothes - and it seems so petty and so stupid. They’re like ants, running around aimlessly ..."

He stopped speaking for a minute. "Like I said, it’s a surge of power - physical and mental. You’re so isolated from mankind, that you stop thinking about them as important any more. That’s why it’s so easy to kill them ... it just doesn’t matter any more. They’re going to die sooner or later anyway ..."

He raised his eyes to meet Buffy’s. "I suppose that’s the way that you’re trained to think about demons. Keep isolated from them. Don’t think of them as living, or important. They’re just there to be killed."

Buffy swallowed. She didn’t want to think about what he was saying. She tore her eyes away.

"But now ..." his voice was soft, and it seemed as though he was talking just to her. "Now I can’t think like that anymore. Because of the chip, because I’ve been dealing with all of you for so long now - I can’t think of humans as just food anymore. They’ve become real again."

There was silence for a minute. Buffy sought desperately for something to say. Something to break the spell

"Well. You must hate that," she said sharply. More sharply than she intended. "Don’t vampires hate to be reminded of their humanity? After all, Angel did ..."

He smiled faintly. "Yes, love, but I’m not Angel. I may have wanted to be just like him once upon a time, but not anytime recently." The smile faded and his expression became serious. "I’ve always done things differently to Angel. Right from the beginning. I was a real disappointment to him. He had this thing about families and friends. Wanted to destroy them. Wanted me to destroy mine. I didn’t see the point. I wanted to kill my enemies. Everyone who had made me feel small, worthless, stupid. I went a bit mad with it. We had to leave London pretty quickly." He chuckled. "Angel wasn’t happy ‘bout that."

"So - you didn’t kill your family?" Dawn asked in a small voice.

"No." He shook his head. "Killed no family. Killed no friends. Of course, family was just me and my mum by that point anyway. But I didn’t kill her. Told myself at the time that I had better things to do, but I wonder - now - if I just didn’t want to." He stopped talking, but the three faces continued to look at him expectantly, so he continued.

"We were so close. My father had died about ten years before. So it was just the two of us. Father had been a school teacher, at a very good school, so I had been able to become a student there as well, although we wouldn’t have been able to afford it normally." His voice, his accent was changing unconsciously as he spoke. "When Father died, they let me stay on, and I then became a tutor to a young boy. Heir to some dukedom. Right stupid tosser, he was. But I didn’t mind. I could stay in London and look after Mother, and the Duke had one of the best libraries in the kingdom. Every chance I got, I would sneak away and read ..." His voice trailed off.

"What happened to your mother?" Willow’s voice, this time.

Spike shrugged. "I don’t know. I never heard anything about her again. I think she had a sister up north somewhere - Lichfield, I think it was. She probably went to live with her."

"We could find out," Willow said. "There’s Internet sites - you can track your family tree. If you like?"

Spike stared at her for a moment. "I don’t know." The suggestion seemed to disturb him. "Maybe. I don’t know."

Willow reached across and patted his hand. "Think about it. If you want to, we could take a look. No big."

Buffy felt as shaken as Spike looked. She took a big gulp of her wine, almost choking as she did so. What was going on? Why was Spike suddenly seeming - human? She didn’t know how to deal with this ...

Mumbling something about washing up, she got to her feet and went into the kitchen, filling the sink with hot suds. She stared down at the bubbles, feeling her thoughts whirling around in her head.

Buffy remembered Spike talking about his past before, when she had asked him about Slayers. The Slayers he had killed. He hadn’t revealed so much about himself that time, though. He had made it sound - different, too. Last time, he had sounded contemptuous of the human he had been. He had spoken about "William" as though it was someone he had seen in a movie once, not the person he had been. As a result, she had found it difficult to see "William" and "Spike" as the same person. Only on rare occasions had she found herself thinking of Spike as a human, rather than as a very human-like demon.

Slowly, she swirled the water round in a saucepan. That’s what he is, she reminded herself. A demon. One that could act very human sometimes. One that could, occasionally, do nice things. But still a demon.

Even as she thought the words, she knew that she was fooling herself. That wasn’t how she thought about Spike anymore. In recent weeks, without even realising it, her view of Spike had changed. Human, vampire, demon - it didn’t really matter. He was just a person. Just Spike. That’s all that mattered.

She frowned at the thought. Was that really true? She didn’t know any more, didn’t trust her feelings or judgements. "I need to think about it," she whispered. Sleep on it, let her brain work it out on its own. Then, and only then, would she know what to do. She nodded silently to herself.

*****

The dark house was silent. At three o’clock in the morning, all the inhabitants were asleep, all the lights off in this house.

No one was around to see three dark figures slip across the back lawn and climb smoothly up to the roof. There was no sound as a window was opened and two of the figures slipped inside. The waft of a vial under the nose of the sleeping girl didn’t even make her stir, simply caused her to slip into an even deeper sleep ...

As quickly and quietly as that, the Slayer was removed from her home and taken to the sterile rooms run by the Initiative below the ground.

TBC

CHAPTER SEVEN - NORTH BY NORTHWEST


Buffy woke slowly, swimming up into consciousness. Her head felt heavy and stuffy. Surely she hadn’t had that much red wine last night? She tried to raise a hand to her head, but her arm didn’t seem to want to move.

What the ...?

She forced one eye to open, and scowled down at herself. Why were her arms fastened to the bed? And her legs? What was going on?

As she looked around, her heart sunk. She recognised this place. She was back. Back in that mental institute that she believed had been a hallucination.

It was real.

****

"I’m going to be really, really late!" shrieked Dawn, whirling round the kitchen like a miniature cyclone, collecting lunch, bag, books. "When do Xander and Anya get back? This bus-catching scene is getting old!"

"They’re back today, Dawnie," Willow said, smothering a smile at the mini-panic. "A little less with the noise-making, you’ll wake Buffy. And you know she could do with the sleep."

"Sorry," Dawn whispered theatrically. "Bye, Will. See you tonight." She rushed out the kitchen door, letting it slam shut behind her. Willow sighed and shook her head. If that didn’t wake Buffy, then nothing would ...

She cocked her head, waiting to hear footsteps from upstairs stumble into the bathroom. Nothing.

That’s strange.

A frown gathered. What if something was wrong? You never know, on the Hellmouth. Always expect the worst, it usually happens. She listened a bit more. Still no footsteps. Maybe she would just go check ...

Willow padded up the stairs and paused outside Buffy’s door. She knocked softly, then again a bit harder. "Buffy? Is everything okay?"

There was no answer. Beginning to feel scared, Willow pushed the door open. The bed was empty. And the window was open.

The worst had happened.

****

"What’s happening?" Buffy tried to keep her voice low, reasonable. When she felt like screaming. She had been strapped to the table for what felt like days, although she knew it was only hours. She had been unable to make the slightest headway breaking her bonds, and no-one had answered her calls.

At long last, there had been a noise at the door that she could glimpse out of the corner of her eye, and someone had come in. A doctor. The same doctor she had seen before.

"Buffy?" He had the concerned look on his face that she recognised. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, let’s see. I’m feeling like I’m strapped to a table." She took a deep breath. Now was really not the time to get sarcastic. "Doctor, could you please unstrap me?"

He looked troubled. "I’m sorry, Buffy. I can’t do that. Not after what happened the last time. You’re a danger to yourself, and to those trying to help you."

"What if I promise not to hurt anyone?"

"Maybe soon, Buffy. Let’s see how the new treatment is going." He proceeded to examine her, looking in her eyes with a light, checking her pulse and blood pressure, testing her reflexes, and continually consulting a chart at the end of the bed.

"Well, not bad Buffy. Not bad at all." He smiled at her encouragingly. "It looks like the combination of the medication and the treatment is working. We should be able to keep you with us this time. No more escaping into your other world."

He perched on a stool at the end of her bed, studying her for a few minutes before continuing. "Buffy, you have to learn to let go of your hallucinations. You’ll never be well until you’ve accepted that they are just delusions. You aren’t a ‘Slayer’. There are no vampires, or demons. There’s no magic. Do you understand? We’re going to cure you."

Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he exited the room, leaving her to her own thoughts.

Buffy closed her eyes and thought about his words.

This again she thought to herself. No Slayer. No vampires. No Dawn, no mystical key. No Xander, or Giles, or Willow, or Angel, or Anya. No Spike. I made them all up.

Her thoughts froze. She couldn’t accept it. There was no way she could ever have imagined someone like Spike. Irritating, deadly, sexy, thoughtful ... she knew she couldn’t have invented him. She may have many talents, but an imagination that wild was not one of them.

She closed her eyes and drew on an image of Spike. She wouldn’t let them do this to her again. This time, she would be able to fight it. And she would go back where she belonged. Fighting the demons, in Sunnydale, with Willow and Xander. And Spike. By her side.

****

Willow pressed a hand against the pain in her side as she sprinted down the path in the cemetery to Spike’s crypt. Her legs had brought her this way automatically after finding Buffy gone. She knew that there was no one else who would be able to help as well as Spike. She had to find him.

Too distraught to knock, she burst through the door, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as she searched desperately for Spike.

"Red! Bloody hell, thought you were the Slayer for a minute there." Spike sat up from where he had been stretched out on the sofa, rubbing a hand through his tousled hair. He had obviously been sleeping, but Willow had no time to apologise.

"Spike - it’s Buffy. She’s gone. Something’s happened - someone must have taken her ..."

Before she had even finished, Spike had leapt to his feet, pulling on a nearby shirt.

"When?" His words were curt.

"I - I don’t know. Sometime last night. She went to bed as usual, but when I went in this morning, she wasn’t there ... and the window was open." Willow began to feel a bit calmer. Spike would know what to do.

"She wouldn’t go without a fight ..."

"It didn’t look like it." Tears threatened to rise to the surface. "Whatever it was must have been really strong."

Spike put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don’t fret, love. We’ll find her. Everything will be fine."

Willow took a deep breath. "What should we do?"

"Let’s go back to the house. See if we can find anything." Spike grabbed a blanket and covered himself, then began the sprint to Buffy’s house.

*****

They searched the whole house and gardens, but found nothing to hint at what had happened to Buffy. Finally giving up, they sat in the kitchen, staring at each other over the counter, wondering what to do next.

"As soon as it’s dark, I’ll head out, see if I pick up some news on the underground," said Spike.

"Ok. Good idea. And I’ll ..." Willow’s voice trailed off. She had no idea what to do. She had never felt so helpless.

Spike looked straight into her eyes. "Don‘t. Don‘t give up. We will find Buffy. We‘ll come up with a plan. And we‘ll bring her home."

****

"It’s all going according to plan," McNamara informed Wilcox. "The drugs are neutralising her Slayer powers, just as our informant promised. Dr Turner did an excellent job during his inspection. She already seems to be accepting this as reality. It won’t be long before she is completely under our control."

"That’s excellent new, Colonel. I will inform Mr Ward immediately."

The two figures continued to study the girl on the video screen in front of them, watching impassively as she began to strain against her bonds, calling out.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me? Please! Hello?"

****

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Willow and Spike both jumped.

"Xander!" Willow breathed. "Oh God! Xander and Anya! They’re back." She jumped up and flew to the front door. Pasting a smile on her face, she greeted the newly-weds, ushering them into the living room.

"So, um, how was the honeymoon? I mean, the place. Not the whole, honeymoon-y thing. How was the hotel."

"It was wonderful," Anya told her. "We feel relaxed and invigorated, and ready to go back to work. Don’t we, Xander?"

"Absolutely," he agreed, hiding a grimace. "Can’t wait to get back to the nine to five. So, Will. How’s things in old Sunnydale? Is the Buffster at work?"

"No. Something’s happened, Xander. We don’t know where Buffy is." Willow hated to ruin their homecoming, but they had to be told.

"What? What do you mean, you don’t know where she is? What happened?"

"Has she run away?" asked Anya.

"We don’t think so." It was Spike that answered. He moved cautiously into the living room, aware that his presence wouldn’t be welcomed by Xander.

To his surprise, however, the other man didn’t comment. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Willow.

"Tell us everything."

****

"Everything is going to work out fine, Buffy," the doctor told her. "I know it’s hard to recognise that everything you believe happened to you, isn’t real. But you will feel much, much better as you come to realise the truth."

Buffy allowed her gaze to rest calmly on the doctor. She wondered how long she had been strapped to this bed. It felt like days. Maybe it was days. She was unstrapped for 30 minutes, three times a day, so she could use a bedpan, eat some of the meagre food they provided, and try to work some of the kinks out of her body. Otherwise, she remained prone, strapped to the bed, aching from the lack of motion. Each day, she felt physically weaker, from lack of exercise and lack of food. Throughout the day, they came in, injected different drugs into her, strapped electrodes to her skull and gave her shock treatment. She knew that her Slayer strength was somehow being drained from her.

But she knew that mentally, she was only getting stronger. No matter how many times they told her that she had been hallucinating, no matter how many drugs they pumped into her or electrodes they strapped to her, she managed to cling firm to the rock of reality that she had found somewhere deep inside her.

However, she knew better than to let the doctor know that. She pretended to go along with what he said, pretended to be trying to get better. Eventually, an opportunity would arise that would allow her to escape. She just hoped that she still had the strength to seize it.

The doctor was finishing up. He moved to the door, opened it and stepped out. And Buffy required every ounce of her experience as a Slayer to keep her face and body still.

Sam Finn was standing outside the door.

She was in shadows, standing well back from the door. They probably thought that there was no way Buffy could have seen her. But Buffy knew she wasn’t mistaken.

What is she doing here? What is going on?

Taking a deep breath, Buffy closed her eyes. She expelled all thoughts from her mind, and kept her breathing calm and deep. Rhythmic. Sam is here. Did that mean Riley is here? Probably. So does that mean I’m being held by the military? Why? Unless ...

It sounds a lot like the Initiative ...

Buffy pondered that thought for a moment, then dismissed it. There was no point speculating. She would have to wait for more facts.

Slowing her breathing further, she imagined walking through the desert. Up a path. Until there, in front of her, she could see the bonfire, with a dark shape hovering behind it. The First Slayer ...

The warmth, the knowledge, flowed through her veins, and she slept, protected.

TBC

CHAPTER EIGHT - LONG DAY’S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT

"It’s been three weeks!" cried Willow. "And we don’t know anything."

They were all gathered in the Summers’ living room - Willow, Dawn, Xander, Anya and Tara. Only Spike was absent, having gone out to patrol. Since Buffy’s disappearance, they had all been virtually living there, spending every free moment trying to find some trace of where Buffy had gone. Dawn was sleeping in Buffy’s bed, Spike in Dawn’s. Tara was using a cot set up in Buffy’s room to keep Dawn company, and Xander and Anya only left to work and to sleep for a few hours.

At first Xander had looked askance at the vampire’s presence, but over the weeks he had come to accept Spike as an integral part of the team. Spike was out every night from sunset to sunrise, patrolling and looking for information. His dedication to finding Buffy, and looking after Dawn, was unmistakable.

The silence that followed Willow’s statement was interrupted by the bang of the front door. Everyone turned in surprise as Spike came in.

"Spike? What’s happened? You’re back early." Dawn helped the vampire into a seat. He seemed dazed and confused.

"I don’t know what happened," he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair so that it fell across his forehead in soft curls. "Something strange ..."

"What? Tell us." Anya demanded.

"I saw this vampire, making his way through a cemetery. He looked like he was up to something, so I followed him for a bit, then jumped. But ... it made my chip go off." He rubbed his fingers against his temples, remembering.

"Your chip went off?" Willow looked bewildered.

"Are you sure it was a vampire?" Xander asked

"I think I would recognise a vampire, mate," Spike replied. "This was definitely one of the undead. And then ... and then he tried to attack me. And it looked as though - a chip went off in his head too."

There was a pause.

"Another vampire with a chip?" Tara repeated, just to make sure.

"That’s what it looked like," Spike said. He was still rubbing his temples, and a thoughtful expression had come over his face.

"Who would be putting chips into vampires?" Anya asked the room in general.

"I thought that was just the Initiative‘s idea of fun and games," Xander agreed.

"It was." Spike sat up straight. "You know, I’ve just thought of something else that’s been bugging me. Captain Cardboard and the missus came to town because of those bloody eggs, right? Well, my mate, the one who asked me to look after them - I’ve not heard from him since. That‘s not like him. It makes me wonder ..."

"Wonder what?" Dawn asked. She perched on the arm of Spike’s chair.

"Whether there was something else going on. Do we know where they were heading off to next?"

"Nepal, I think," Willow volunteered, raising her hand slightly before catching herself and lowering it again. "I haven’t had an email from Sam in a while, but I’m pretty sure that’s where they said they were."

"You’ve been emailing her?" Spike asked. "Look, I know next to nothing about computers, but is there any way you can find out if she’s really emailing from Nepal?"

"You think that Sam and Riley are involved in the Buffy walkabout?" Xander asked sceptically.

"I don’t know." Spike sighed in frustration. "I don’t bloody know. But at least it’s a thought. Which is more than we had before."

Willow stood up. "Maybe I could come up with a program that I could send in an email to Sam. Like a virus. There’s sites all over the web that tell you how to write them. Something that would allow me to hack into her computer. Then maybe we could find out ..."

Willow was gone, bounding up the stairs to get to her laptop and try out the newest, the only, theory, as quickly as possible.

****

"Make it quick," the orderly instructed Buffy as she struggled to sit up. "You’ve got 30 minutes."

He left her alone as she managed to get herself upright and swing her legs over the edge of the bed. She felt as though she was wasting away. A glance at her arms and legs told her that she was.

How much longer can I go on? she wondered, then stopped herself. For as long as it takes, was the answer.

She quickly used the bedpan, grateful that they gave her some privacy to do this, although she didn’t doubt that the room was under video surveillance. Then she wolfed down the thin soup that had been provided. It wasn’t nearly enough for sustenance, but then she wasn’t all that hungry nowadays. Lying flat on your back all day will do that to a girl, she supposed.

Finally, she began to stretch, getting the blood flowing and the muscles working, before they came to strap her up again. She closed her eyes, drawing on her visions of the First Slayer to help keep her strong, grounded.

Then she felt it.

Somehow, she had felt a trickle of her old Slayer strength, her old power, flood through her as she stretched out her hamstring. She concentrated hard. Yes, if she tried hard enough, thought about the First Slayer and her meeting with her in the desert, she could feel the power entering her. But she couldn’t maintain it ...

She opened her eyes and fought not to let a smile cross her face. It would be enough. When the moment came, she would be able to draw on that strength to help her escape.

It would work.

****

"It should work," said Willow. "It’s a pretty basic program, and her antivirus protection shouldn’t pick it up. Once Sam opens the email, the program will activate and store a Trojan on her system, although she won’t even know it. It should allow me to access her computer."

"So we just have to hope she checks her email regularly," Anya said. Willow shot her a look, then turned back to the computer.

"Come on, Sam," she muttered under her breath.

Spike was heating a mug of blood in the kitchen when Xander entered and hesitated. Although they could now tolerate each other’s company, they didn’t actively seek it out, and Spike expected Xander to make a quick exit. To his surprise, however, Xander chose instead to sit down and wait for Spike to get his blood, before speaking.

"I need to say something to you," he began, and Spike cocked an eyebrow before taking a stool opposite him.

"Go on."

"Okay. I will." Xander cleared his throat and studied his hands, resting on the counter between them, then raise his eyes to meet Spike’s. "I’m not going to pretend to you that I like the idea of having a vampire around all the time. I didn’t like it with Angel. I don’t like vampires. There’s no grey area for me here. But -" Xander paused for a moment before continuing. "I’ve been watching you since Buffy disappeared and - I do believe that you truly care. That you want to help. And for the right reasons, not just to - score points.

"So I guess I just wanted to tell you that. From now on, as far as I’m concerned - the scoresheet is wiped clean. I’m willing to try and forget about everything that’s happened in the past, and just concentrate on what you’re doing now. If that means anything to you."

Spike was amazed. He would never have thought the boy was capable of something like this. He was also touched. And surprised to find that it meant a lot to him, to be accepted like this by one of Buffy’s dearest friends.

"Thanks, mate," he replied eventually.

"Just tell me one thing," Xander said. "If you could - would you feed from a human?"

Spike was quiet for a moment. "I don’t think I could," he admitted finally. "But there’s a part of me feels ashamed to confess it." He raised his head and met Xander’s eyes challengingly, daring the boy to condemn him.

Xander nodded slowly. "I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d said otherwise," he said.

Spike chuckled at that.

Their companionable truce was interrupted by a scream from upstairs. Both jumped to their feet immediately.

"We did it! We’re in!" It was Willow’s voice.

Xander and Spike exchanged a glance, then raced for the stairs.

The girls were all crammed onto Willow’s large bed, elbowing each other for a look at the computer screen.

"What have you got, Will?" Xander asked, out of breath from his battle up the stairs with Spike.

"I’m in Sam’s email account. And her computer is linked up to a network - I can access the whole thing," Willow said, fingers tapping on her keyboard. "Just give me a minute to find the main drive, and I’ll be able to work out exactly ..."

Her voice trailed off as menus flashed up on the laptop in response to her commands.

"My God ..." she breathed.

"Um, Willow?" Xander prompted.

She looked up, her eyes huge. "It looks like you were right, Spike. Sam and Riley are involved in something. It looks like it’s the Initiative Mark 2.

"And they’ve got Buffy."

TBC

CHAPTER NINE - TO CATCH A THIEF

Spike lay still, staring at the ceiling above him in the darkness. They had agreed to give Willow a couple of hours to find out as much as possible from the Initiative’s computer files, before coming up with a plan. She had insisted that they all spend the time resting, so they would be as alert as possible when the time came to take action. They had all done as they were told, but Spike was finding it impossible to rest.

They were almost there. They had found Buffy. Now they could actually do something. Put an end to this hell of inaction. He wondered what the bastards had done to her.

His sharpened hearing picked up noises from the kitchen. Was Willow done already? In a single movement, he slipped off his bed and made his way downstairs. No, not Willow. It was Tara in the kitchen, pulling food out of the fridge. She jumped when Spike silently appeared in the doorway, then relaxed and smiled sheepishly.

"I couldn’t sleep," she said softly. "I thought I’d make some soup, so we could all have something to eat before we head out." She held up a stick of celery.

"I couldn’t sleep either," he replied in the same quiet tones.

"Me either." Dawn stood behind him, clutching Mr Gordo. "And I’m pretty sure Anya and Xander are awake too."

"Oh well," said Tara, "Resting was a good idea. Since you’re here, Dawnie, you can peel some potatoes for me."

"What’s going on?" All three turned guiltily to the door at the sound of Willow’s voice.

"We - we couldn’t sleep," Dawn replied.

Willow moved into the kitchen, grabbing a celery stick to munch on. "Ooh, yummy. Are you making your vegetable soup?"

"Willow." Tara’s voice was firm. "What have you found? Have you finished already?"

"Yes." Willow’s voice was halting. "Dawnie, why don’t you get Xander and Anya? I might as well tell you all at once."

****

Spike could feel a red rage, the hot blood, rising in him, and it took a conscious effort to tamp it back down. He caught Xander’s eyes and managed a tight smile, letting the other know that he had it under control.

Those bastards. I’ll kill them for hurting Buffy. If they’ve damaged her ...

He couldn’t finish the thought. No, Buffy would be fine. She was strong. She would be able to fight against this.

He refused to let himself think of an alternative - Buffy unhinged, allowing them to play with her mind. Weakened. Manipulated. Destroyed.

Once again the rage threatened him, and he stood abruptly, seeking movement to help maintain his control.

"How do we get in?" he asked brusquely.

‘The only entrance I can find on the map is by the caves. But it’s heavily guarded," Willow said.

"Are you sure there’s nowhere else we can get in?" Dawn asked.

Willow shook her head. "There only seems to be one entrance. I suppose there must be more, but I have no idea where they could be."

"Then we go in by that entrance," Spike said.

"Okey dokey," said Xander. "So I have a little question. How the hell do we do that?"

"We’ll have to fake it," Spike replied. "Willow, is there any other useful information you found?"

"Oh, oh!" she cried excitedly. "I think so! They do a nightly patrol ... let me go check!"

****

"... through the checkpoint, then we leave the van and make a run for this control room here." Spike tapped a finger on the map print-out. The Scoobies were all gathered round the dining-room table, going through the plan. "Once we’re there, Willow will jam any alarms or surveillance equipment, and locate exactly where Buffy is being kept. We get her, and get the hell out."

He paused and looked around the table. Willow, Tara, Dawn, Xander, Anya. They all nodded, serious looks on their faces. It wasn’t a team he would have chosen, that’s for sure. But somehow, he knew that they would do whatever it took to get the job done. Each one was willing to put their lives on the line to save Buffy. If anyone could do it, it was this motley crew of ex-demons, witches, and humans. And one handicapped vampire.

He gave a small smile. "Right then. Let’s go."

****

"Go, go, go!"

The voice in his earpiece was authoritative, and Lieutenant Hughes obeyed instantly. Sensing rather than seeing Santos at his side, he slipped from the back of the van and moved through the shadows of the cemetery. He could see his prey now, a peroxide blonde vampire, dressed in leather, strolling casually past the gravestones. He must have heard something, because he turned in their direction, game face on. Hughes still wasn’t used to the sight, but he didn’t falter as he moved forward, in a perfect pincer movement with Santos.

"Hello, gentlemen," the vampire smirked. "I’ve been expecting you."

Hughes raised his gun, ready to fire the laser, but was distracted by a movement to his right. What was that? The system had only picked up one vampire in this area ... His head moved slightly to the right, and that was the last thing he knew before something heavy landed on the back of his head, and he pitched forward into darkness ...

"Good shot, Dawnie," Willow panted, standing over the other soldier boy. Dawn looked up proudly, brandishing her baseball bat.

As Spike joined them, they dragged the two soldiers into the shadows, stripping off their uniforms and tying and gagging them securely. All three whirled as they heard a noise behind them, but it was just Tara, running up to join them.

"We got the van," she said, out of breath. "There was just the one doctor. And also a medical bag ..."

She held up a syringe triumphantly. "Anaesthetic. Well, that’s what it said on the label. It should keep them out cold for the rest of the night, don’t you think?"

She injected both the soldiers as Xander and Anya appeared, dragging the doctor. Anya was already dressed in the medical outfit, and Xander and Tara quickly pulled on the two army uniforms. Even with her hair tucked up under a hat, Tara still looked far too feminine, but there was little they could do about that, Spike decided. As long as Xander did all the talking, they should be okay.

They all went back to the van, Xander, Anya and Tara getting into the front, and Spike, Dawn and Willow arranging themselves on the stretchers in the back. Spike looked across at the other two girls. They were dressed to the nines in some of Buffy’s favourite leather outfits, and had gone completely mad with the eyeliner and dark lipstick, having decided that this was the way that vampires looked. He had to admit, they were pretty authentic. It was terrifying how grown-up Dawn looked, all of a sudden ...

With a lurch, they were away, Xander taking a few minutes to get used to driving the van. He made his way confidently to the entrance of the Initiative’s headquarters, having studied the route several times before leaving the house. He realised that there was a clear track leading through the woods towards the cave.

"How come no-one has noticed this before?" he wondered out loud.

"People in Sunnydale are pretty good at turning a blind eye," Anya said. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked really sexy, dressed up in that white coat. Maybe he should get her one of those little nurse’s outfits ...

Concentrate, Xander, he berated himself. This is it. We’re off to save Buffy.

****

Buffy screamed in pain as the electricity surged through her body. At least, she tried to scream, but a leather wedge was forced between her teeth, so that she couldn’t bite herself during the electric shock treatment. So nice of them to look after me, she had thought sarcastically when they had first done it. Now, it was no longer funny. Nothing, any more, was remotely funny.

She was trying so hard to keep it together. But it was getting so difficult. It would be so easy just to slip away, to give in to it all. Then she would be at peace ...

There is no peace.

She didn’t know where the voice came from, but it commanded her attention.

Be strong. Be sure. You know what you must do.

The shocks came again, but this time they didn’t seem so bad. Something was numbing her, protecting her ...

We are always here with you...

A sense of warmth flooded through her.

... all of us are here together. We will help you.

She felt the tingle in her fingertips. Very slowly, strength began to seep into her.

Each of us passes on a part of ourselves to the next. We are always here. We will always help.

As if from outside herself, she sensed her friends, felt that they were close. That they were coming for her.

We will always help...

Without really being aware of it, Buffy realised that the medical staff were removing the electrodes from her, removing the leather strap, half-heartedly wiping the sweat from her face. She waited, motionless, until they had all left the room.

Slowly, Buffy drew on all her strength; then, flexing her arms, she strained at the straps restraining her, until she felt them give.

TBC

CHAPTER TEN - APOCALYPSE NOW

Dawn forced herself to keep completely still as she heard the van’s door being opened. Try not to even breathe, she told herself.

"Just the three?" she heard a strange male voice ask.

"That’s all we came across." It was Xander’s voice. He sounded different. All military. He had slipped into the role of army guy easily. All of them, in fact, seemed to find it easy to act their roles, even Tara in her military guise. Well, their lives did depend on it. And so did Buffy’s.

The door slammed, and the van started to move again. She risked opening one eye, and saw Spike sitting up. Dawn did the same, as did Willow. They were ready when the van stopped and Tara hurried round to let them out.

"Right then, Red," said Spike, slipping back into his authoritative role. "Which way now?"

Unhesitatingly, Willow led them through a doorway and down a number of corridors. Spike heard the occasional footstep or voice from nearby, but none close enough to warrant alarm, and soon they were standing outside a sturdy metal door. Willow motioned toward it, and they all understood. The main surveillance room.

Except for Xander, the Scoobies all pressed themselves against the wall. Checking they were hidden, Xander knocked loudly on the door. Almost immediately, it swung open, a young man in fatigues standing just inside.

"Sergeant." Xander barked, stepping back slightly. "What, exactly, do you call that?"

Accusingly, he pointed a little way down the corridor. The sergeant stepped out of the room, peering down the dim corridor.

"Sir?" he said, but got no further as Anya slammed a club down on the back of his head.

Quickly, Xander and Spike dragged him into the surveillance room. As they stripped off his uniform and tied and gagged him, Willow seated herself at the main computer terminal. As she began tapping on the keyboard, Tara came up behind her, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder.

"Any problems?" she murmured.

"I don’t think so," Willow answered. "Here are the video files ... it’s just a question of finding the right one, and replacing the current video feed ... here."

The two were silent for a moment. On the screen in front of them was the video surveillance images of Buffy, lying on a bed in a sterile, medical room.

"Will?"

Xander’s voice roused them, and Willow quickly replaced the live feed with a file video that showed exactly the same thing. She put it on a five minutes loop, checking that the surveillance would now show the same thing, Buffy lying still.

"All done." She brought up a different file, something she hadn’t seen before. "Just a minute ... I think I’ve found something interesting ..."

There was silence in the room for a few minutes, bar the tapping on the keyboard. Finally Willow turned to the others, clearing her throat.

"I didn’t access these files before," she explained. "It’s to do with the vampires. Why they’re here, what the Initiative is doing with them."

"Well?" Spike prodded, impatiently. He wanted to get Buffy out. That’s what they were here for. As far as he was concerned, they could worry about the Initiative’s shenanigans after that.

Willow looked at him, now dressed in the uniform of the unconscious sergeant and standing stiffly by the door, the need for action evident in every line of his body. "You were right about the vampire with the chip, Spike. They’ve been capturing vampires, implanting chips in them exactly the same as yours, so they can’t hurt humans but can harm and kill other demons. It looks like they’re still trying to raise an army to fight demons, but in a slightly different way."

They all digested this. "They want to get these chipped vampires to fight on their side?" Xander asked, wanting to be clear. "Against other vampires and demons?"

"That’s what it looks like," Willow answered. "They’ve got about 200 vampires locked up in here, chipped. But from what I can see, it hasn’t been too successful so far. Guess vampires aren’t the most predictable."

Xander snorted. "Could have told them that."

"Red, this is very interesting and all, but can it wait until we’ve got Buffy out of here?" Spike asked, his impatience clear.

"There’s something else," Willow said slowly. "The chips in the vampires ... they can be modified. There’s a report here - they modified yours, Spike. So that you’re able to hurt Buffy without the chip going off."

"So that’s why ..." Tara breathed, and Willow looked at her sharply.

"You knew?" Willow asked, and Tara nodded.

"She asked me to find out why - she thought that maybe she had come back wrong ..." Tara explained haltingly.

Willow opened her mouth to ask another question, but changed her mind. "The thing is, I can alter Spike’s chip from this computer. Change the readings, just like they did before. Make it so he can’t hurt Buffy again. Make it so he can’t hurt demons. Whatever ..."

"Make it so that it doesn’t work at all?" Dawn interrupted, and they all turned to look at her.

"Make it so that it doesn’t work at all," Willow agreed, her eyes turning to Spike.

Spike stood frozen. He couldn’t ask them ... it would have to be up to them. To decide if they would trust him - or not. For what felt like centuries, he stood there, waiting for his fate to be decided.

Finally, Xander spoke up. "Do it, Will. Deactivate the chip, or whatever you want to call it."

Spike’s mouth almost fell open in shock. Xander was the last person he had expected to support him. The others seemed almost as stunned.

"What?" Xander spread his hands as he registered the surprised looks. "Either he goes back to being a killer, and we stake him, or he’s really changed and will keep with the goodness and light. Whichever it is, we need to know. We can’t just go on relying on the chip."

"Xander has a good point," Anya said, and Tara nodded slowly, her enormous eyes flicking between Willow and Spike.

"Please, Willow," Dawn begged. "I know Spike won’t hurt anyone. We have to give him a chance."

Willow looked undecided. Images flashed through her mind - Spike abducting her and Xander so she could perform a spell for him to get Drusilla back; Spike lunging at her in her dorm room, when he had first got the chip. Then she remembered watching Spike rush up Glory’s platform to rescue Dawn, regardless of his own safety; and the way he had looked after Dawn last summer. And the Spike she had come to know so well in the past few weeks ...

With a quick nod, she turned to the computer. After a few minutes, she looked back up. "It’s done."

Spike tilted his head, looking at her. "Thank you."

Willow gave him a half-smile. "I’m going to create a diversion for you, Spike. I’ll release the locks on the cages of the vampires while you go find Buffy. It should keep the soldier boys distracted for a little while."

"Fine." Spike’s voice was tight with tension, his gaze turned inwards as he prepared for the final stage. He gave a quick look round the room, them moved towards the door.

"Spike?" Dawn stopped him before he got there. He watched as she came over to him. "Good luck." She gave him a brief hug, then stepped back. He nodded, touched her cheek, and left the room.

****

They were close.

Buffy could sense her friends strongly now. They would be here soon. She breathed deeply, summoning all her strength. She could still feel the Slayer strength flowing strongly through her veins, but her weakened, starved body was holding her back. She had planned to rest for a few minutes to gather as much strength as she could, but now she knew help was at hand.

Behind her closed eyelids, in the darkness of her mind, she could see a white-hot light like a tiny sun growing stronger and stronger ....

They were here.

She opened her eyes and looked towards the door. It swung open just as she had expected.

"Spike." She smiled faintly. She had known it would be him.

"Buffy." He crossed the room in a few strides, his gaze intense. Surprised to find the straps broken, he helped her sit up. "Are you ... are you all right?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "I feel - weak. But I’ll be fine." She closed her eyes to let a wave of dizziness pass over her, fighting to keep from blacking out from the sudden rush of blood from her head.

Spike watched her patiently, waiting for her to be ready. She looked - he ran his eyes over her quickly. God, she looked like hell. Her hair was dirty and matted, her eyes hollow, her skin clammy and colourless. But the set of her jaw told him that the Slayer was still home. And ready to fight.

****

The fighting on the lower floors was already beginning to draw to a close as Riley reached the compound. Crippled by the chip, the vampires had been unable to fight back. The soldiers had herded most of them back into the cages, although the dust in the air and on the floor bore testimony to a number of casualties.

Riley stopped by an engineer at a computer terminal trying to reinstall the restraints on the cages. "What happened," he asked tersely.

The engineer shrugged. "I don’t know. They’ve just - been turned off. It won’t take long to bring them back online..."

Riley stood back, thoughts racing through his brain. Just turned off? Why would someone do that? Who would do that?

As if by instinct, an answer came to him. "The Scoobies."

Without another word, he turned and ran back. Back to the room where Buffy was being held.

TBC

CHAPTER ELEVEN - ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO

Riley skidded round a corner, then screeched to a halt.

He had been right.

Before him, Buffy and that vampire - Spike - were slowly making their way down the corridor. Deliberately, Riley raised his rifle and drew back the safety. At the noise, the two figures froze, then turned to face him.

There was silence in the corridor for a few minutes, then Buffy spoke, moving forward a couple of steps towards him.

"Riley. How *could* you?"

The sadness in her voice almost got to him. He forced the sudden surge of guilt away.

"It’s for the best, Buffy. Surely you can see that. We didn‘t want to hurt you. But the most important thing is being able to stop the subterraneans."

"Sending Buffy mad is for the best?" Now Spike spoke up. "What kind of sick twisted world do you live in, mate?"

Riley chuckled humourlessly. "You can talk. Mate."

"I’ve never done anything like this," Spike defended. "My fights have always been fair. No messing with minds."

"You’re a real saint," Riley told him, the faintest of sneers in his voice. He peered down the sights of his rifle, checking that the laser was at full power. "Unfortunately, I’m going to have to kill you now."

"Don’t do this, Riley." Buffy moved forward, placing herself between Spike and Riley. "Please. You know that it’s wrong."

"Buffy, step aside please." Riley’s voice was devoid of emotion.

Gently, Spike reached out and took Buffy’s hand, pulling her to one side. "I can handle this, pet," he said softly. He looked up at Riley, smirking, and his voice took on a taunting quality that Buffy hadn‘t heard in a long time. One that she had missed. "Do we really need weapons for this?"

Buffy almost smiled, hearing those familiar words. "It makes me feel all manly," she breathed, knowing that Spike had heard her when the corner of his mouth quirked up. He kept his eyes on Riley, though. Waiting for a response. Ready for an attack.

Riley considered him for a moment, then slowly lowered his gun. "I guess not. It’ll be much more satisfying to kill you with my hands." He laid the gun on the floor then moved softly towards Spike.

Buffy began to draw on what was left of her strength, still feeling weak from her earlier efforts. Spike might be able to hold Riley off for a while, she told herself, but he wouldn’t be able to hurt him. At some point, she would need to step in.

The two men were almost nose to nose.

"So, why don’t you take your best shot," Riley taunted. "Might as well let you get one in, before I rip you apart."

"Thanks, mate," Spike said casually. He looked Riley up and down. "Let’s see. How about ..."

With lightening speed, his arm shot forward, catching Riley in the stomach. His other fist connected with Riley’s jaw, jerking the man backwards. Swiftly, he kicked out and swept Riley’s legs out from under him. With a thud, Riley hit the floor, winded.

Spike breathed in deeply, unable to stop a grin spreading across his face. "That was fun." He noticed Buffy staring at him in astonishment. "Oh, didn’t I mention, love? Red found a way to disable the chip. Good of her, wasn’t it?"

At his words, Riley lunged out on his stomach to reach his gun, and Buffy quickly kicked it up and caught it, levelling it on Riley.

"Hold it there, soldier-boy," she said. "I don’t want to have to hurt you." She considered her own words for a second, then flashed a tight smile. "Actually, I’d love to hurt you. But I was taught to know better, so I’ll just settle for threatening you."

She gestured him back down the corridor, into the room she had been held prisoner. "Why don’t you lie down and have a rest?" she suggested. He did as he was told, and Spike used the restraints to tie him to the bed.

As the final knot was finished, Buffy’s knees suddenly sagged. Quickly, Spike caught her to him, stopping the gun from hitting the floor.

"Sorry," she mumbled, trying to laugh. "A bit too much excitement for one day, I think."

He smiled down at her, lifting her up into his arms. "Let’s get you home then," he suggested, kicking the door closed and starting down the corridor.

"Yes please," Buffy sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. "Home."

****

"I’m so glad you’re home, Buffy," Dawn said for the one hundredth time.

Buffy laughed and let her head rest against her sister’s. Home, bathed, fed, and tucked up in bed, surrounded by her friends who had just finished filling her in on everything that had happened. Everyone was still on a high, excitedly interrupting each other to tell their part of the story. Dawn was snuggled in bed with Buffy, occasionally reaching out to touch her hand as though checking that she was real.

Willow had just finished telling them how she had found that some of the Initiative’s records had been doctored before being sent through to the decision-makers, so that it seemed that the project was more successful than it was.

"That shouldn’t be a problem any more, though," she said smugly. "I made sure that some of the more damning reports made their way to the right hands. The Initiative won’t be initiating anything ever again!"

"Good one, Will," Buffy murmured. "Hey, I’ve got a research project for you, too. You might want to get in touch with Giles . I think that the doctors were using the same drugs on me that the Council of Watchers likes to use on Slayers when they reach their eighteenth birthday. Only, something happened. It didn’t work properly." She frowned, trying to explain how she felt. "It was almost like, when we did that spell to kill Adam. I could still feel the strength, the power. As though what makes me a Slayer has become so strong that those drugs couldn’t affect it ..." She shook her head in frustration. "I can’t explain it properly. But it could be worth finding out if any other Slayers experienced the same thing. Maybe, as I get older, my Slayerness gets - more slayer-ee."

"I’ll contact Giles," Willow said. "Maybe there are other Slayers he can research. It would be good to know more."

Suddenly, a huge yawn almost cracked Buffy’s face open, and Tara immediately stood up.

"I think we should leave Buffy to get some sleep," she said, herding everyone out the door. Dawn reluctantly got up too.

"Is there anything else you need, Buffy?" she asked.

Buffy shook her head, smiling. "I’m fine. Thank you, everybody."

Calling goodnights, the gang filed out the door. Spike, who had been quietly leaning against the wall by the window, almost forgotten by the others, lingered so that he was last. He approached the bed, squatting down by her side.

"Are you sure you’re all right, Buffy?" he asked. Not contributing to the conversation, his eyes hadn’t left Buffy’s face since they got back, and he was sure that something was troubling her.

She released her breath on a sigh, summoning a smile. "I can’t quite believe I’m home. I keep - waiting to wake up - and hoping desperately that I don’t."

Without quite meaning to, he took her hand. "You are home. You won’t be waking up to anything except your own bed, and your friends and your sister ..."

She squeezed his hand. "I know. I just feel ..." She shook her head in frustration. "I’m not very good at this. I don’t find it very easy to tell people my feelings."

"You know you can tell me anything. Ask me anything. Just tell me, Buffy."

She struggled to find the words. "I just felt ... so alone. So scared, for a little while. Betrayed, by Riley. I kept telling myself that I would get out of there, but I think a little part of me never really believed it. And then, this strange power, the Slayer strength - I didn’t really know what was happening. I couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t know if I ever would be able to tell anyone. It was - lonely."

She took a deep breath, unable to meet his eyes, and forced herself to continue. "Could you - stay here tonight? I don’t want to be alone again."

His response was immediate, instinctive. He stood and kicked off his boots, pulling his shirt over his head. Buffy snuggled down into her bed, making room for him, and watched as he flicked off the light. Then she felt the mattress sink as he slid into bed beside her. Without thinking, she moved into him, resting her head on his chest and feeling his arms wrap around her. Closing her eyes, she let the tension drain from her, and felt the first of the tears slide down her cheek.

Spike said nothing, just holding her close as she silently sobbed out the terror of the past few weeks. Eventually her shuddering stopped, her breathing slowed, and he knew that she was asleep. Finally, he let his own eyes close, and allowed himself to drift into slumber.

****

Buffy opened her eyes, the side of her face feeling numb. She took in her bearings and realised she was in bed, still enclosed in Spike’s arms, and that it was morning. It seemed that they hadn’t moved all night, her cheek still pressed into the hardness of his chest.

Gently, she moved away, trying not to disturb Spike, but his eyelashes fluttered at her movement, and then his eyes opened.

"Buffy," he said softly, looking at her with brilliant blue eyes that seemed strangely vulnerable. She realised that he was waiting for her to say something so he could pick up his cue, so he would know how she wanted him to behave now that the unthinkable had happened, that he had spent the night in her bed.

"Morning," she said with a slow smile, letting him know that he was welcome there. "How did you sleep?"

He seemed to relax, shifting in the bed to stretch slightly. "Like the dead," he deadpanned, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes to catch her reaction.

She chuckled. "Me too."

He grinned at her, delighted by her response, and her breath caught.

"Spike ..." She reached out and traced a shaking finger against his smile. "Thank you - thank you ... for saving me. The thought of you - kept me sane." Her fingers brushed against his brow, down his cheekbone. She swallowed. "Every night, Spike - every night you saved me ..."

His eyes darkened at her words and he caught her fingers, pressing her palm against his mouth, brushing his lips softly against her skin. "Thank you, Buffy." Their eyes caught and held, and Buffy felt a warmth fill her. A warmth that told her she was loved, adored, protected, safe. A smile of pure happiness spread across her face, and was answered by one on the face opposite her.

TBC

EPILOGUE


"About time," Xander grumbled as Spike approached the table with a tray full of drinks. "What happened, bleach boy, did they need to check your proof of age?"

"Bugger it, puppy, I seem to have forgotten your drink," Spike replied, handing glasses around. Buffy smiled, the repartee familiar but the lack of bad feeling behind it a welcome change. She watched as Xander grabbed his beer from Spike. A tentative friendship seemed to have sprung up between the two males, based largely on a mutual respect for beer and sports. Anya, sitting between them, looked bored as they continued a conversation on the relative merits of different brews.

Buffy turned to watch the dancers at the Bronze - her sister with a group of friends, Willow and Tara with their arms wrapped around each other, oblivious to the crowds around them. It was wonderful to see the two of them back together. If her abduction could be considered a good thing in any way, then it was that it had brought the two witches back together.

Willow and Giles had been in constant email contact in the past fortnight, discussing the fact that Buffy’s Slayer strength had become an almost tangible, physical part of her. Although Giles had no answers yet, he was devoting himself to research. Meanwhile, Willow and Tara were helping Buffy master some meditation techniques that she had found useful in drawing on the strength. While she had not experienced the same communication that she had known while at the Initiative, Buffy was somehow sure that if she needed that link again, it would be there.

The events at the Initiative had also brought her and Spike together. There had been no suggestion of him moving back to his crypt, or even of him moving out of her bedroom. No one had commented, but she got the feeling that her friends were pretty happy for her. Spike had devoted himself to looking after her in the two weeks since her return, bullying her into eating so she would gain some weight, forcing her to start some light training but not allowing her to exhaust herself, keeping her company during the day while Dawn, Willow and Tara were at school and Xander and Anya at work.

Without discussing it or formalising their relationship, the vampire and the Slayer had become inseparable. Buffy smiled to herself as she thought about what she had planned for tonight. Although Spike had spent every night of the past fortnight in her bed, it had only been to hold her as she slept. Tonight, though, Buffy definitely had other plans ...

Spike noticed her secret smile, but before he could lean over to her, Willow joined them at the table, out of breath.

"That sister of yours is becoming a bossy-pants," she said, not really complaining. "She’s hijacked Tara to show her some of those dancesteps, Spike. I think you’ve created a monster."

They all looked over to where Dawn was instructing poor Tara on the dancefloor. Anya stood up abruptly.

"Come and dance with me Spike," she said. "I’m sure we can do better than that."

Xander straightened up and frowned slightly, not sure if he liked this turn of events, and Spike smirked at him, then winked at Anya. "Sure thing, pet," he said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor. He swung her into his arms and they began dancing.

Buffy, Willow and Xander sat in companionable silence, watching the others dance. Suddenly, Willow spoke.

"Do you remember, back in high school, when I was tricked into thinking that demon Moloch was a boy called Malcolm who was messaging me on the computer?"

The other two nodded in unison.

"And we were all sitting around outside the school afterwards, joking about how the one boy who seemed to actually like me had turned out to be a demon robot, and the teacher that Xander had had a crush on was a giant preying mantis, and the only boy Buffy had liked since moving to Sunnydale was a vampire ... Xander said that we were doomed to never have a normal relationship ..."

The other two nodded together again. They all watched the dancers - the vampire salsa-ing with the ex-vengeance demon, the witch jiving with the Key.

"Guess I was right," Xander said cheerfully.

"Absolutely," said Buffy, smiling. "And you know what? I wouldn’t change it for a thing."

"Me either," Willow said. She raised her glass. "Here’s to love on the Hellmouth!"

They all drank deeply, then rose to join their loved ones on the dance floor.

THE END