Chapter 6.11

Dawn stumbled unsteadily from one railway tie to the next. The wound in her thigh was seeping blood, and even though out here, the night air was chill, her body was coated in a cold sweat, the salt from which further aggravated her tender flesh. She tried to keep her thighs from rubbing together as she walked, but she was so tired and the monotony of putting one foot in front of the other would lull her into numbness until the pain brought her back.

So much of her concentration was swallowed up by her effort to keep moving that it came as a shock when she realised that she could no longer see the ties beneath her feet. Her focus had been only on matching her steps to their even spacing and the feel of their smooth, slightly oily, coolness beneath her feet. She turned around and could see a vaguely lighter area of night sky framed by the tunnel walls.

Looking back in the direction she had been headed, she could see nothing. Not even a single feature was discernible in the Stygian gloom. She forced herself to walk on into the velvet darkness, her path chosen for better or worse.

What did she have to fear from darkness, for she was Light, formed from the very Light of Creation? She felt no pain, for she had no earthly form, she simply was and always would be.

A frigid wind whistled from the tunnel ahead of them, buffeting the bikers, as they not so much sped as motored toward their goal. Travelling down the outer edges of the track was like one enormous level gravel drive. Neither of the bikes were designed with off-road use in mind, and if the men were to risk too great a turn of speed on the unstable surface, it might result in an accident that would prevent them from reaching their goal. Yet, as the first gasp of air from the tunnel reached them, Spike rolled back his right wrist and gave his bike full throttle.

Raising her visor, Buffy simply asked, "Dawn?"

Spike nodded. "She’s bleeding." He had to shout his reply as the speeding air through the tunnel tried to snatch the words away. Wes followed closely behind coming up on the other side of the tracks, but the humvees had to slow up, their width not so far short of that of the trains the tunnel was designed for.

The time it took for them to traverse the tunnel seemed to go on forever, and then they saw her. Silhouetted in the beams of the bikes’ headlights she stood frozen in the middle of the track. Her stance was reminiscent of something in a Japanese animé just before the monster breaks free of its human shell. Her hair straggled around her face in sweat-soaked strands. She held her arms rigid so that her wrists were almost six inches from her hips, but then her hands just seemed to dangle there. Her feet were about a foot apart and she swayed slightly as if her legs didn’t want to support her any more. The closer they got the worse the picture in front of them became. First it was the smears of blood on her thighs that they saw. Then, it was the ragged state of her feet beneath their coating of oil and dirt. The worst of all, the vacant eyes of someone completely unaware of the world around them, they didn’t actually see until the bikes slewed to a halt just ahead of her. When their lights illuminated her slack features, she didn’t even blink.

Just as the four men had pushed the convertible into position across the eastbound track and locked on the parking brake, Lorne’s cell phone rang. "Angel Investigations?" None of the men knew why it had seemed more appropriate to push the venerable old car to meet its doom, but somehow lining it up there under its own power would have been like expecting it to assist in its own demise.

"Angel?" Lorne held out his phone to the vampire. "It’s Spike, he rang the office number, got diverted to me."

"Angel? We found Dawn. She’s messed up bad. She looks like Ronette Pulaski. You and your guys have got to make sure that bitch goes down and find out what the hell they’ve doped her with. She’s not speaking. She doesn’t have a clue what’s going on around her. It could be shock, but Klinger here reckons that that train is basically a mobile lab where they develop antivenins and antitoxins. That means it has a load of poisonous shit so watch the humans if she starts throwing bottles, but they might just have the antidote to that poisonous shit."

"Spike slow down."

"She dumped Dawn off the train, doped up with god knows what, barefoot and half-dressed, to walk down the line. She hasn’t come past us, so she’s headed for you, unless you’ve already missed her. I am going to hunt this cunt down, but for now it’s my place to look after Buffy and Dawn, so I’m counting on you to make her regret ever laying a finger on that girl and to find out exactly what she did to her. Clear enough?"

"Crystal."

"Right then, good luck."

Angel leapt into the convertible and drove it off the tracks. "New plan, guys. Dawn isn’t on the train any longer. I figure, Connor and I can probably catch a free ride without too much difficulty. Fred, you drive the truck. When the train goes past, just turn onto the tracks and follow on behind, I’m hoping Gunn and Lorne can make the jump to the caboose. There is a woman on that train, name of Sam Finn who has been …basically she has Dawn so messed up on whatever they gave her she doesn’t even know where she is."

"The lab could apparently be full of various toxins and hopefully their antidotes. We need to find out what this woman has done to Dawn and how we can undo it. We’ve got a better chance of catching her unawares this way. If we block the track there’s a chance she’ll ditch the stuff we need before we can get to her."

Angel looked around the group. "I want you all to be real careful. These guys are humans, but they think that gives them the right to kill anything that isn’t-."

"Angel, man, we been through this. Sam woman, evil, needs to be interrogated. Other soldiers, potentially lethal, but we have to try to not play too rough, even if they kill our friends. We get."

The lights on either side of the crossing started to flash on and off and then the bell began to sound as the barriers dropped down to block the passage of any cars until the train had gone through. Finally, they heard the train's whistle and then it was speeding past them.

As the train passed over the level crossing Angel began to sprint along on its left, Connor doing much the same on its right. Angel was surprised to see a sliding door standing open even while the train was moving. He made a leap and grabbed the rail next to the door, pulling himself into the very section of the train where he wanted to be. Connor was less fortunate and made a leap to the top of the final car. Once there, he knelt down and leant over the end of the car above the point where a ladder made its way onto the car's roof. He reached down ready to offer a helping hand to Gunn and then Lorne as they made the jump from the hood of Gunn’s pick up truck. Once they were safely aboard Fred dropped back with the truck, but still kept pace.

Sam was just washing the last of Dawn’s blood from her hands as she heard the voice from behind her.

"I’d like to be the first to offer my condolences."

"Really, and why would that be?"

"Well, you’ve lost your little scheme. One way or the other you’ve lost your husband, and if you," Angel lashed out from his seemingly relaxed position to drive the heel of his hand into Sam’s nose. He didn’t quite use enough force to drive the bone shards into her brain, but then he had a hundred years of practice to fall back on. Without any apparent break in flow he continued his chat. "don’t tell me, now, exactly what you did to Dawn Summers, you can say goodbye to anything that passes for a face."

Spike moved to get in the backseat of the humvee with Buffy and Dawn, but the slayer gently pushed him away.

"Wes can follow us to the hospital. He’ll help with what needs to be done. Take the orbs, just in case Riley does switch sides, take Willow and do what you have to do."

"I have to be with you. That’s what family’s meant to do."

"Spike, she hurt Dawn. We need to find out how. Go kick her lying ass till she tells you how to fix Dawn. Then, kick it some more, just for me. And then, just so long as there’s enough left of her to stand trial afterward, you do whatever the hell you want. You hear me?" She craned her neck to whisper the words in his ear too quietly for the vehicles driver to catch and then she kissed him goodbye. "Sam thinks I’m going to be too busy looking after Dawn to come looking for her. Prove her wrong."

Spike stood up and gave a remarkably authentic looking salute. "Yes, ma’am," he replied before pushing shut the vehicle door.

Buffy rolled down her window, "And as soon as you’ve done that, soldier, I recommend some R & R. Go see your family. They’ll be waiting."

"Sounds like damn good advice to me. I’ll be with you soon, love. Watch over her for me."

Less than a minute later the convoy was now back on the road. This time Willow rode behind Spike, and they were short one humvee and one bike. All that mattered to Spike was that he had Buffy’s blessing, Red had the barrier spell ready, and he intended to catch up with this Sam before Angel and his crew had all the fun.

Chapter 6.12

Willow clung on with her arms wrapped tighter around Spike’s waist than Buffy’s had ever been, but then Buffy had never been terrified out of her wits by Spike’s driving, or at least not since she realised that despite appearances the vampire was almost always in perfect control. Tonight, however, was an exception to the rule.

When they had followed along the roads and the train had been obliged to limit its speed because it was passing through various built up areas, they had gained ground. When the train was stationary, even though their vehicles were less efficient on the track, they still gained ground. Now that Spike had a vision of the train effortlessly outdistancing him as the bike struggled on the gravel surface, he just pulled the throttle right back and said "damn the consequences".

Willow, she just held on tight, both to Spike and the orbs at his waist, and kept watch for the end of the second tunnel. That would be her cue to release the barrier spell behind them, forcing Riley and his team to double back the maximum possible distance to catch up with them. That wasn’t to say that Willow entirely agreed with Buffy’s assessment of the Riley situation.

The soldier had looked pretty distraught at the sight of the slayer’s younger sister. Willow had an idea that, even if he’d been in the process of convincing himself that everything up to that point had been a huge misunderstanding, that the spectacle of the bratty teenager he had once known, reduced to little more than a battered, bleeding husk was something he couldn’t reason away. The thing was, say by the time he and his people arrived on scene, Sam was in a similar or worse condition, then any sympathy he might have had for their cause would probably dissipate fairly rapidly.

All of which brought her to another question…

Spike tapped her on the arm, a pre-arranged signal that he could see the end of the tunnel. Willow released her spell, praying that she was doing the right thing when she used just enough power to make it last for about five minutes. With luck, that would give Angel and his crew, along with the blond vampire, as much of a head-start as they needed, without giving them long enough to beat Sam to a bloody pulp.

"Spike?" she communicated telepathically with the vampire.

"What, Red?"

"When you catch up with this train full of humans, what exactly are you going to do?"

"Exactly what Buffy asked me to."

"Which is what?"

"Find out what she did to Dawn and then beat the crap out of her some more. Maybe use her as a comparative test to see if she’s lying."

"But wouldn’t the chip…?"

"Chip’s history, Red. Dru wasn’t looking for a pet. She was looking for the old Spike back."

"Oh… Ohhh… And Buffy knew?"

"Buffy knew. Up till she saw what they’d done to Bit, she figured to keep it a secret. I guess what they did to Niblet has her past caring."

"I guess she really does trust you."

"Yeah. Surprisingly enough, she really does."

Buffy looked at the sweat-covered face that she cradled in her lap. Like her mother, but not; like her, but not; her father’s eyes like those of a dead man beneath her taped-down lids. Features from all her family were recognisable in the unique and miraculous being that she was so afraid of losing. This free spirit who could make her so proud one day and so exasperated the next, much like the latest addition to her inner circle who had been right about the pain she would feel if she lost her.

Guilt filled her again as she saw the events leading up to her mother’s death repeating themselves. She had gone off to college and as soon as she had settled in, she had stopped coming home, neglecting her mother and Dawn. Then, her mom had got sick and she’d tried to make up for it, but how do you say sorry for the long-term neglect of people so important to you, or more accurately people to whom you were so important. And then she’d come back to life, and she’d pretty much ignored Dawn all over again, and now Dawn was going to die and it was her fault for bringing Riley and the Initiative into their lives.

Buffy’s petite hands wiped away the stringy strands of hair from her sister’s face. Just over a week from now she should be the belle of the ball at her first big formal and instead it was as if the life had drained right out of her.

"Dawnie, I am so sorry. I never meant for anything to hurt you. I wish I’d never met Riley Finn, never dated him, never brought him back to Revello; anything that would mean that you’d be well and here with me now." Tears dropped from Buffy’s eyes, normally hazel, but transformed by the sheen of tears to a rich, emerald hue. The droplets fell on her sister’s cheek. Buffy smoothed them away from the soft cheek using the ball of her thumb, and was rewarded when her sister’s eyelids fluttered for the first time since they had found her.

"Mommy?"

"No, Dawnie. It’s Buffy."

Buffy removed the tape that had held the girl’s eyelids closed in an effort to prevent her eyes drying out.

"Ouch. Well, if I didn’t know before now it was you, yanking out my eyelashes would be the clincher."

"Dawnie, are you okay?"

"Well, I can’t say tonight was my best night ever.

Sam killed Brandon. Just Bang. Shot him without a second thought. And I was such a bitch. I was blaming him for whatever was in the drinks… and he was just trying to protect me and now he’s dead."

"Dawn, Brandon’s not dead."

"But she said so. She said five minutes and every vampire in a half-mile radius would be drawn by the smell of blood."

"Well, I guess his dad turned up in four, then. His dad got him to the hospital, and Willow did some major healing mojo to get rid of the bullet wound. I think there was a phone in his room. Want me to try-."

"Buffy, where are we?" Dawn’s eyes fixed on the back of the vehicle’s driver. The man wore civilian clothes, but the close cropped hair was almost as good as a uniform. She looked around the vehicle and then back at her sister, pushing herself away from her. "He’s one of them. This is their truck. You’re not Buffy. You might look like Buffy, but you can’t be Buffy." The youngster began to fumble with the handle on the door and Buffy had to grab at her to stop her throwing herself from the vehicle.

"Get away! Get away! Get away!" Dawn’s struggles in her weakened state weren’t even enough to bruise Buffy with her strongest kicks, but her high-pitched screams were still almost enough to rupture eardrums.

"Pull over," Buffy commanded the driver, thinking that perhaps it might be better if Dawn could talk to Wesley as well, maybe even ride with him if that made her more at ease. Maybe if she could see that she could get out of the vehicle if she wanted when it was stationary it would calm her.

Dawn’s thrashing suddenly stilled, even as the truck pulled over at the wayside and Buffy found herself looking once more into those sightless, blue eyes.

Willow got even more worried about Spike’s driving when he began to cross the rails, following a set of tyre tracks that led off into a siding.

"How can you be sure we’re going the right way?"

"I’m not. It’s an informed guess. The tyre tracks started right where the Angelmobile was parked and they hadn’t managed to stop the train, so my guess is they’re following it. So, if the tracks go over into a siding, I’m betting that the train is in the siding, too."

Much to Willow’s concern, Spike pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and began to speak to whoever had called him, not reducing the bike’s speed one iota even though he was now only using one hand to steer the machine.

"Okay, love… It’s more information than we did have. I guess it’ll help narrow things down… And if she can come out of it once, she can do it again. The kid’s a fighter… Gotta go, love. I think we just reached the end of the trail. Take care."

Spike dropped the phone back into his pocket and returned both hands to the handlebars just in time to swerve the bike around the old truck and the girl standing next to it with a pistol pointed at what seemed to be an Initiative guard.

Lorne crouched next to Gunn and Connor on the roof of the train car, all three swaying slightly as the train pulled off the main track. "Since when did I start doing all the action stuff? Do I look like I’m dressed to join up for Mission Impossible? The dry cleaning on this is going to be a bitch."

Gunn scanned the green demon’s bright red suit and electric blue shirt. "In that get up, you look more like you’re Superman’s really ugly ass cousin, who pimps in his spare time. Besides, you’ve done the hard bit. All we need to do is find a way to get off this roof and into the train before we get decapitated by a power line or something on our way to Union Station."

"Thank you, Mr Sunshine. Can I just say I liked it so much better when Junior needed a babysitter."

Connor began to make his way along the roof in a crouching run. All the ventilation hatches on the train were too narrow to use as a means of entry and the carriages’ flexible couplings joined seamlessly together. There was only one visible way in.

Lorne watched in disbelief as Connor was silhouetted against the brightening sky. He seemed to do some sort of handstand, gripping the open doorframe with his fingertips, then as he balanced head down he seemed to twist, crossing his arms over so that when he let himself swing down through the doorway, he was facing into the carriage.

"You know that decapitation deal?" the demon asked as he turned toward Gunn. "Starting to look like the preferred option."

"I don’t think it’s going to be a problem."

"Why’s that?"

"Because we seem to be stopping." The other man answered as he tried to grip the ridged rubber of the section between the two carriages.

Sam backed away from the vampire, seeming to stumble over something as she kept her gaze fixed on the figure before her. Angel didn’t rush. There was really no where for her to go. She scuttled backwards like a frightened crab.

"Now, really, you might want to try to keep just a little dignity here," Angel chided.

Sam backed away even further and faster, seeming to think that the well beneath her stainless steel desk would offer her some measure of protection. However, that wasn’t her real plan. Instead she hit the panic button located in the desk well. Three sets of shutters came down dividing the train car into four. The last set came down between the two adversaries. The shutters were of the type that had once adorned many shop fronts, made of long horizontal rods, joined by shorted vertical ones in a brickwork type pattern. They were designed to isolate the various areas without preventing the use of firearms. Almost immediately, the train began to slow to stop.

Sam picked up a tissue from a box on one of the benches. She wiped the blood from her nose and then with an audible snap she pushed it back into place. "Okay, Angel. It is Angel, isn’t it? I’m guessing, but tortured expression, or is it constipated? Billowing coat? Seems to fit. You’ve got maybe ten seconds before the rest of my men get in here with rifles blazing. Still think I’m going to tell you what you want? Or do you think maybe you’ll be next on the operating table?"

"I think you’re the one with the misconceptions," came the voice from the far end of the car, as Connor took a stance covering the far door with the pistol he drew from where it had been taped at the small of his back. "Like the one where you think he would come alone."

"He’s got a point," Angel said, managing to sound almost regretful as he pulled a similar pistol from his own pocket.

Chapter 6.13

Spike pulled the bike to a stop alongside the rearmost car of the train, just as Gunn and Lorne dropped from the car’s roof less than twenty feet away.

"And I thought they’d pretty much done away with that form of economy travel everywhere except India." Spike drawled as he pulled the tranq rifle from the rack on the side of the bike.

He turned toward the rear of the train. "You got some plan for where you’re goin’ with that thing?" Gunn asked, not able to tell in the very first flush of the false dawn whether the hefty rifle Spike carried was designed for bullets or darts.

"Sure, I’m going to go shoot that guy your bit of fluff has pinned down, hopefully swap guns with her, and then work my way through toward the front until I find the bitch that hurt Dawn." He didn’t even break stride as he answered.

"Any objections?" Spike asked the question in a tone that intimated that if there were, then the person making them might be on the receiving end of whatever the rifle did hold.

"Nope, not unless that thing fires bullets." Gunn’s answer came just as Spike rounded the end of the train, levelled the rifle and shot two darts into the soldier’s thigh in rapid succession before he became aware of the new threat, all of which was pretty impressive with a bolt action rifle.

Fred heaved a sigh of relief as the soldier slumped to the ground, knowing that even with the truck’s door as cover, the stand-off couldn’t have lasted. As soon as the soldier had realised the pistol she held was only a tranq gun it would lose all value as a deterrent, partly because the chances of her hitting at that range were slight and partly because being tranquillised just isn’t as scary as being shot.

"You do know those darts are meant to be strong enough to take down a werewolf, don’t you? Using two on an ordinary guy’s kind of overkill."

Spike took a moment to assess the man’s breathing even as he took the pistol from Fred’s unresisting hands and passed her the rifle, which he had reloaded as he crossed the ground between them.

"Ammo?" He held out a hand and Fred passed him a handful of darts. "He’ll live. Didn’t want to risk him staying up. You’ve got two darts left there, pet. It’s ready to fire but it’s bolt-action, so make sure you hit first time or you might not get a second shot." He tapped the chest of the fallen man as he made his way to the door by which the soldier had exited. "And they’re wearing body armour so go for the legs."

"Maybe we should go start from the front?" Gunn suggested, but Lorne was already following Spike into the train.

"Hell, no. I want to see this," the green demon responded.

Fred passed the rifle to Gunn. "Guess it’s down to us."

Willow hesitated for a fraction of a second but then decided the humans with only two darts were far more likely to need her help than the invulnerable vampire. She scurried after the couple.

As it turned out, there was only a squad of eight on the train. Connor had accounted for two, one tranqued and one pistol-whipped into unconsciousness before the third member of their squad had become more wary of the teenager, only to be shot from behind when Spike made his way through from the rear car.

Angel had taken out one with the tranq gun, by the time Spike made his way into the car where he, Connor and Sam were. The soldier’s partner had dropped back, and broke cover only occasionally to take pot shots in the hope of getting a lucky hit, and from his caged position there didn’t seem to be much Angel could do about it.

"Need a hand there, grandpa?" Spike asked as he bent to grasp the first set of shutters.

"You won’t be able to shift those," Sam crowed. "They’re titanium alloy and once there locked in place, it would take over a ton of pressure to lift them."

Spike barely seemed to strain a muscle as the locks anchoring the shutters, deformed and then gave, allowing him to push the metal rods back up into the ceiling.

"Really? Then I guess I’m just imagining this…" Lorne and Connor watched from cover behind the car’s stainless-steel units, as the desperate soldier emptied his clip in the direction of the seemingly unstoppable vampire, who calmly moved to open the shutters separating him from his grandsire.

The panicked private fumbled as he tried to load a new clip into his SMG even as he knew it was hopeless, the spent shells falling around the blond’s feet a testament to its futility.

"Thought you weren’t going to be able to make it?" Angel queried from his cover behind the examination table as Spike stepped through to remove the last obstacle between him and their attacker. Fortunately, the hail of bullets also kept Sam trapped in her cover under the desk.

"Change of plans. Buffy seemed to think it was important that this bitch," Spike reached under the desk and pulled Sam out by her hair before dragging her to the exam table. "…should learn that you don’t go messing with our family and expect to get away with it."

Passing his gun to Angel, he then pulled a set of handcuffs from his coat pocket snapping one end around Sam’s wrist and fastening the other to the rail that ran around the table. Only a second after passing his gun to Angel he reclaimed it.

"You just happened to have those in your coat pocket?" the older vampire asked.

"Yeah. Same way I just happened to have a tranq rifle. We did get enough notice to pick up some bits and pieces, you know."

By this point, the dispirited soldier was scrambling backwards across the floor away from the two vampires.

"Can’t say we don’t appreciate the help," Angel responded dryly, as he raised his pistol to shoot the last guard in the leg, even as Gunn, Fred and Willow appeared behind his target.

"There were two guarding the driver, but we knocked them out and tied the driver up," Fred reported when Angel raised an eyebrow in their direction.

"I guess that only leaves us one little problem to deal with, then." Spike began to pull open the doors of the various base units seemingly at random, until he found one which concealed a trash receptacle. Pulling out the garbage bag, he tipped its contents out onto the desk beneath which Sam had been hiding. Flipping aside a couple of bloody swabs, he surveyed the other items.

"Okay, we’re looking for another bottle that says V64, I suppose if someone finds a clean syringe we can use it, otherwise this one’ll do and we’re also looking for what came out of here." Spike held up a small cellophane wrapper.

"Well, come on! There’s more than enough cupboards and drawers in here for everyone to take one, or do I have to do everything? Quicker we find out what we want, the quicker Dawn gets fixed and you all get to go home."

Spike moved to a roll-front wall unit that opened up to display a bewildering array of bottles. All were numbered, some marked with a "V", some with an "A". He pulled all the ones marked with the number 64 from the shelves and shoved them into his pockets with the exception of one bottle of the venom. He shook the bottle of milky fluid in his hand as he walked

"Okay, lady, and I use the term extremely loosely. You are going to tell me exactly how you would treat someone who’s been injected with this stuff. You better tell the truth, because once we know what-."

Spike was cut off by Fred’s startled epithet as she pressed the button that opened the plexiglass screen obscuring the homeless man’s cage. "My God!" she exclaimed as she stared in shock at the filthy, malnourished man in his confinement. The rest of the crew turned, alerted as much by the malodour as by Fred’s comment.

"Keys?" Angel demanded, holding his hand out in front of Sam, "unless of course you would rather we do a strip search."

The brunette grudgingly pointed to the desk drawer. Willow pulled the drawer open, finding not only the keys but also the other thing they’d been searching for. She tossed the keys to Fred and then held up the Dictaphone for Spike to see, the tape marked simply with the word Key and the previous evening’s date.

As Fred freed the unfortunate man, Spike turned back to their captive.

"Okay, Mrs Mengele, as I was saying, you’re going to tell me exactly how to treat Dawn, because I am going to inject this stuff into you. I am going to wait until you are in at least as bad a state as Dawn was when I last saw her, and then I might think about following your instructions to make sure you’re not lying. In fact, just to speed things up I might go for a double dose."

"Y-you can’t," Sam pouted in disbelief.

"You really think anyone here is going to stop me? Or that they could?"

"Y-you c-can’t hurt anyone, you’re-. The chip."

"Hey, well, I guess scum who harm people I care about rate as subhuman even with the chip, or didn’t it actually hurt when I pulled you out from under that desk by the hair?"

A look of shock crossed Sam’s face as she belatedly registered the significance of her earlier pain. This was no toothless guard dog.

"Bollocks it, I’m bored already just waiting for you to start talking."

Spike picked up the used syringe and used it to puncture the lid of the bottle he was holding, drawing the contents of the bottle into it. He depressed the plunger just enough to expel any air bubbles and then pulling on Sam’s free arm until her stretched out position allowed her no resistance he plunged the syringe into the centre if her back, through the scrubs she wore, only removing it when it was empty.

"Okay, still think I won’t do it?" Spike pulled another bottle from his pocket. Shaking it in front of Sam’s suddenly sweating face.

"So what is this shit?"

"Glarghk Guhl Kashma’nik venom."

This earned her an almost casual backhanded slap from Spike. "You sadistic bitch! You mean you were just going to leave her like that. We wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of curing her, even if we worked out what was wrong. Not unless Red here could have summoned one of those ugly bastards, and you know she can’t be doin’ with that dark mojo."

Sam wiped a thin trail of blood from her mouth. She wouldn’t have been entirely convinced if someone told her that Spike’s blow had been deliberately restrained.

"That was the plan."

"Spike…" Angel’s voice was soft. "Let me."

The blond paced to the far end of the car, where the sight of Dawn’s new boots standing in a corner enraged him even more.

"Spike, here, never really did have the patience required for torture. He’d forget how fragile humans are. So, if I were you I’d talk quick before that injection starts to have an effect, because if you go catatonic on him, I wouldn’t count on your still being able to speak, when and if you ever come round."

"You inject a bottle of the antidote A64?"

"You don’t drink it?" Willow asked.

"You can make a form that you drink, but the injection works more quickly."

"And that’s it? One injection?" Angel prodded.

Sam nodded. "Unless there’s no improvement after an hour, in which case you might need a second dose."

"So what now?" Willow asked.

"We wait." Most of the group turned to look at the blond, except Fred and Connor, who were busy trying to see to the alcoholic who seemed to be unable to stand on his own, though whether this was a result of his previous cramped conditions, hunger or alcohol was anyone’s guess.

"This stuff might only work if it’s administered within minutes of the venom or something like that, so we wait until she’s symptomatic before we give her it, and in the meantime we check that tape to make sure there’s nothing that contradicts what she just told us."

Willow picked up the Dictaphone and rewound the tape before playing back the first few seconds.

Suddenly, the door diagonally opposite the one Connor and Angel had used to enter the train was jerked open. Framed in the doorway, Riley and Graham levelled submachine guns at the group.

"Mind if we join the party?" the scar-faced soldier asked.

Chapter 6.14

Willow stopped the tape as soon as the army delegation arrived, unsure as to how events would play out.

"Sure. Come on in," Spike answered, ambling deceptively slowly toward the two men, one arm held just enough behind his back to mask the tranquilliser pistol he held in his hand. When he had blocked the soldiers’ line of fire on everyone else in the car, he stopped. "Just leave those outside." He gestured at the guns the pair held.

When the soldiers hesitated, Spike continued. "What are you going to do? Shoot me? You’ve already tried that once tonight. Okay, so you were actually using something that might have been a bit more effective at that point. I guess you just keep underestimating Red here." Spike threw the soldiers a deliberate red herring, taking a chance that they had yet to pick up on the orbs’ usefulness.

"Her little barrier didn’t last so long. Maybe if we shot you now you’d bleed just as easy as you did back when I put a stake through your heart." Riley countered.

"And maybe if you try, I’ll slam you head first into the wall and go through all your pockets to see if you happened to bring along your little plastic toy and try it on you. And for the record, I suspect Tabitha’s little spell lasted precisely as long as she wanted it to." Spike raised an eyebrow in Willow’s direction and the witch looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"The fact remains you tried to double-cross us," Riley argued.

"And you sent us to Burbank." Angel stepped up behind the other vampire. "I don’t suppose you were ever intending the train to get that far."

"I kinda hoped we might catch up with it first…" Riley admitted. "But I wasn’t the one putting up magical barriers in the way of supposed allies."

"Yeah, well "supposed allies" just about sums you up doesn’t it. Do you know yet which side you’re on? Are you here to make sure Dawn gets what she needs to get better or are you here to rescue the little woman from the big bad demons?" Spike asked.

Riley’s mouth opened and closed, but the fact of the matter was that he still really didn’t know.

Spike grasped the door. "Make up your mind, guys. The bugs are getting in. None of your people have been hurt... much, but you’re not bringing those weapons in here. And since the ones you really want to hurt are me and Angel, the whole guns thing isn’t really going to do more than piss us off.

Besides, you really should meet your wife’s houseguest."

"Don’t believe him, Riley. They’ve been beating me. He said it was punishment for what you did to him the last time you were in Sunnydale."

"Oh, my little poison viper, he doesn’t have to believe me. He only has to believe you.

Roll the tape, Red."

"…May 2002, mobile lab 01.

Subject has the outward appearance of a typical teenage girl. Various samples have been taken for DNA and other tests including possible future comparison with the subject’s supposed sister…"

"Stop it.

Where are these samples?" Spike still stood almost at the door with his back to the woman.

"Riley, don’t let them hurt me," Sam cried out as Angel turned back to face her.

"Finn, your wife stands condemned from her own mouth. You know that Dawn’s no more demon than you are. But all she is to that bitch is a science experiment. Same as the poor drunken sot she had locked away in a cage that’s not even big enough for him to lie down in.

An’ I don’t care what differences we might have, you still have feelings for Buffy… Don’t bother tryin’ to deny it. It’s written ‘cross yer face clear as day. You want her to be next on this bloody table? Just put down the sodding guns. Much as I hate to admit it, we need you guys to clear up this mess. I don’t think a citizen’s arrest is gonna stick. This is goin’ to need your guys’ own special brand of illegal incarceration. ‘Cause, so help me, if you don’t see that she is going to be locked away for the rest of her natural life, then I am going to have to take whatever other steps are necessary to ensure she doesn’t threaten my family ever again."

Unexpectedly, it was Graham who spoke up on Spike’s behalf. "Ri, man. Just do it. If she’s yellin’ that loud, they can’t have hurt her too bad. And he’s right. Bullets aren’t going to help. You saw the girl. If that was your sister, how would you feel? All they’re trying to do is find out what happened and how to help her. And if they are beating Sam for information then you’ve got a better chance of stopping them from in there, than out here."

All of a sudden the fight seemed to go out of the towering soldier. "Sure," he answered in a soft voice. Calling two of his squad by name, he had them collect all the guns and remain outside whilst the others moved into the increasingly crowded car.

"Okay, samples. Where? Or do we just pull the place apart until we find them?"

"Fridge."

Gunn opened up the small refrigerator he had discovered earlier in the search. With a sweep of his arm he gathered all the vials and petri dishes to his chest, carrying them over to where Spike had left the garbage sack on the desk. He shoved everything including the bloody swabs back into the bag. "I suggest we take this with us when we leave."

"Okay. Red, fast-forward a bit! We want to check what she says about that stuff she gave her."

"Riley, it’s a set up. You know he’s The Doctor. He’s set this all up… and you believe him rather than your own wife."

"Lady, do you want me to get Red to cast a truth spell on you? Maybe we can find out why you married the big lunk-head in the first place?"

All of a sudden all Sam’s protests stilled.

"Ho-kay." In the expectant hush, the whirr of the cassette wheels seemed like the roar of a jet engine, the clunk of the stop mechanism like the sound of twisting metal. Then, Sam’s voice was clearly heard by all in the room.

"…ation shows that the subject was created virgo intacta. Timing of the examination was such that we were unable to determine if the subject is truly fertile, but all indications are that her body functions completely replicate those of a normal human."

After the word "intacta" all hell broke loose, so that only Spike, Angel, Connor and Lorne heard the remainder of the statement. The entire LA chapter of demons-are-us leapt to intercept Spike in his homicidal rush at the woman handcuffed to the table. It looked like something out of Saturday morning wrestling, as Spike brushed off the attacking rugby scrum as if it were no barrier at all. His eyes glowed with a golden fire and it looked like nothing could bar his way, except the most powerful Scooby of them all.

"Thicken."

For the first time since he had carried the orbs Spike met a true physical challenge and he exerted all his will and anger to fight his way through the tar-like air, which seemed to surround him.

In return, Willow exerted all her willpower to keep him from exacting his unthinking revenge. The battle only took seconds, but the drain on Willow’s power was incredible. Coupled with her earlier magic usage, it was the proverbial straw. The Wiccan collapsed unconscious to the floor of the car, a thin trail of blood dripping from her nose.

Spike stumbled forward as the magical barrier impeding his progress was removed and when he looked up after righting himself he was stunned by what he saw.

Sam was bent backwards over the examination table. Riley loomed above her, his hand at her throat, holding her pinned in place. Her eyes stretched wide in fear as she looked up into her husband’s face.

"What the hell did you do to her? She’s just a kid. That’s all. Just Buffy’s occasionally bratty, kid sister. How on earth could you think it’s okay to treat people like that?"

The surprise was enough to make Spike drop back to his human face, his anger turning icy and hard instead of hot and fiery. "Tell the man why you think it’s okay to rape little girls!" he instructed the woman in a cold dark voice devoid of all his usual humour.

Sam had to struggle to reply, gasping for air as her husband’s hand pressed down on her throat. "Not rape. Standard gynaecological exam."

The look of disgust seemed etched into Riley’s features. "Well, I bet it sure felt like rape to her," the country boy responded.

If anyone had been watching Spike, really watching him they might have spotted the instant he came to his decision. The flicker of emotion that showed on his features as anger gave way to vengeance.

He strode the few remaining steps to the table and with a carefully controlled fist, delivered a punch designed to be just enough to keep the woman unconscious for half an hour or so.

He looked into his former rival’s eyes and for once the two of them were in perfect agreement. Spike tossed Riley the key for the handcuffs. "Take her away. She disgusts me."

From where she sat on the floor, Fred opened her mouth as if to protest. "But-."

Angel’s hand brushed against her arm, and he gave his head the smallest of shakes.

Riley undid the cuff that was attached to the examination table and manoeuvred his wife into a fireman’s lift.

Spike cleared his throat noisily and held out his hand. "Leave the handcuffs."

As the other soldiers gathered together to leave, Spike gripped Graham, the apparent voice of reason within the group, by the elbow, speaking in hushed tones. He pulled something from his pocket and pressed it into the other man’s hands.

As his men made to leave, Riley stooped to pick up Willow from her position on the floor. Spike intervened, taking the Dictaphone from her hand and putting it in his pocket before he scooped the Wiccan up into his own arms.

"That’s evidence, you know?" Riley commented as he fell into step alongside the vampire.

"I know. And it’s also up to Bit whether she wants all that put on public record. If she wants it used to make sure that bitch you married gets everything that’s coming to her, fine, but if she wants it burned it’ll be on fire the minute she says so. Considering the other potential charges against her and the fact we all know this will never see an open court room, I don’t think evidence is going to make that much difference."

Spike slid the witch’s supine form into the back of the humvee that Sam wasn’t in. "You should really take that old dosser back with you as well and get him checked out. There’s no knowing what she’s done to him, or how long it’s been since he’s eaten. Just do Red a favour and put him in the other truck. Oh, and if your blokes haven’t found him already apparently the train driver’s tied up somewhere. All the rest have gone sleepy-bye, so I don't know whether you’ll just get him to drive the thing back with them on board, but give us a chance to get our kit together first."

"Where do you want me to take her?"

"Home. I’ll ring Tinkerbell, let her know you’re coming."

"What about you?"

"Hospital. It’s time I went to see my girls."

As the vampire walked back to join the LA crowd in the train car, Riley actually found himself wondering if maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little bit wrong about the blond vampire. If he could be so wrong about those closest to him, then it was just possible.

"So…?" Graham left the question hanging. How do you ask someone if they’re going to be okay after their whole life turns upside down?

"So what?" Riley asked his friend.

"So, what happens now, I guess?"

The taller man shrugged. "I guess that depends on whether Buffy was right about the pull the kid’s dad has with The Pentagon… I suppose we wait and see."

"And Sam?"

"My guess? They’ll send her and anyone else they think was in on it to Nevada for "debriefing". After that? Who knows…"

"And you?"

"I guess it depends whether the brass think I’m corrupt or stupid. Either way my career’s for shit. The covert op whose wife is abducting people and he doesn’t have a clue? And if Buffy’s right the list goes way beyond that, but who the hell do you believe? A neutered HST with an axe to grind?"

"Ri, man…" Graham paused as he realised the significance of what he’d seen earlier. "He hit her. Either he’s had the chip removed or Sam is something other than human."

"After tonight, I might give you fifty-fifty on that," Riley responded in a self-pitying tone. He shook his head. "If Spike had the chip out, there would be a trail of bloody bodies right round town. Maybe he was just so angry it didn’t register." He sat for a while staring sightlessly through the windshield of the humvee, considering the possibility that an unchipped Spike could live peaceably. "Nah… There’s no way that he’s got the chip out."

"So, what’d ya tell him?" Fred pounced as Spike got back into the train.

"Who?"

"The guy you gave the venom to. That’s who."

"Oh, nothing much. Just told him that was what she’d used and that we’d cleaned them out of the antivenin, so he might want to get whoever did it to make some more."

"So you didn’t tell him that you’d dosed her?"

Spike gave an evil grin. "Figure they’ll work that bit out when she comes to. Didn’t tell him they probably need to find a Glarghk Guhl Kashma’nik demon before they can make any more, neither."

At this Angel gave his grandchilde a long-suffering look.

"Wha’? It’s not like they don’t know where to find us. If there’s any left after Dawn’s better, they can have it an’ welcome… Provided they ask nice, of course."

Chapter 6.15

Spike picked up the heavy boots from the corner of the car. He turned to make his goodbyes to the LA crowd.

"I don’t reckon as I’ve really got time to say thanks properly, what with me needin’ to get this stuff back to Dawn and grandpa here-."

"Would you stop calling me that?"

"Okay. Angel-ass here needs to get back home before the sun’s up, but I wouldn’t want you to think we’re not grateful. So, next time we’re down, dinner? You pick the restaurant. I’ll foot the bill. Prob’ly about a week an’ a half, but I’ll give you a bell nearer the time." He transferred his gaze to Gunn who still held the trash bag with all the samples.

"You’ll see that gets burned or something?"

"Straight in the boiler when we get back," the young man confirmed.

"Right, then. Next time we’re in LA…"

With a wink to Connor and a, "see ya, kid," he left.

As soon as he could, he pulled off the train tracks and made his way onto the highway, though he considered turning back when he saw the road he was driving along now had the appellation of The Ronald Reagan Freeway. "What’s next? I hope to hell no one in England’s re-naming the M1 as The Maggie Thatcher Motorway."

Once he hit a clear stretch of straightish road he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Buffy? I’m on my way back. I’ve got what we need. She’s going to be okay."

"And Sam?"

"Out cold, last I saw. Riley and his mates have got her." Spike’s teeth nibbled gently at his lower lip before he continued. "They’re takin’ Red home, too. She collapsed."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Well, it looked pretty much like what happened that time she teleported Glory, but she’s been out for longer. I think she should throw it off in time.

Buffy, there’s something else… about Dawn. We found a Dictaphone. Sam was using it to make notes. Love, according to what she said it sounds like… Pet, let’s just say her examination was thorough enough to know that Bit’s a virgin-."

"She what? I am going to kill the bitch."

"That was pretty much my reaction as well, which is how come Red knocked herself out tryin’ to stop me. The point I’m trying to make, though, is that it might be no bad idea, if they have some sort of rape counsellor there, for her to be around when she pulls out of it."

"Spike, I’m going to have to go. We’re pulling up at the hospital."

"Okay, love. I’ll be there with the antidote as soon as I can… oh, an’ it’s that Glargkh Guhl Kashma’nik venom, so you pretty much know what to expect until I get there."

"Okay… love." Buffy hesitated over the endearment but brought herself to say it after a couple of seconds. "We’ll be waiting."

"On my way."

Spike selected the number for the second call, which he was dreading almost as much.

"Spike?" Tara immediately sounded puzzled that it was the vampire calling and not Willow.

"Yeah, pet. ‘S me."

"What’s happened? Buffy said you and Willow were heading on, but that she and Wes were bringing Dawn back."

"Which they are. They’d just made it to the hospital when I spoke to her. Look, Pixie, best I just spit this out. Willow fainted. Cardboard’s takin’ her back to the house. I told him I’d let you know so that you’d be there to look after her when she got there."

"I knew it-."

"Now, before you blame her, if she hadn’t done what she did, then I would’ve probably done something really stupid. She did you proud, pet. If I hadn’t lost my temper she’d have been just fine. In fact, if I’m still at the hospital next time you see her awake, tell her I said thank you."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Well, it looked to me like that last time at the hospital when you two did your hoodoo on Glory, only she’d been out for a good ten minutes when I headed out… I would have hung around and kept an eye on her but I figured it was best to get this antidote to the Niblet quick as I could."

"Spike, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain."

"Just didn’t want you thinkin’ that it was ‘cause I wasn’t bothered. Look, pet, can you ring Clem’s lot and let them know panic’s over, for now."

"Sure, Spike. I’ll pass the word."

"Thanks, love. See you later."

"Bye."

Buffy scooped up her sister in her arms. She had wrapped her own coat around her to provide her with more cover than the skimpy, pvc dress. Wesley stepped out from the shadows by the entrance, having arrived and parked up his bike a couple of minutes earlier. He picked up Buffy’s helmet and backpack, leaving the somewhat unsure soldier with nothing to do.

As it was quite some hours since all the bars and clubs had ejected their patrons and not late enough for many people to be up for the day, the ER was blessedly empty when they arrived.

Even as she approached the desk, a male nurse came forward and took Dawn from her arms, while the receptionist took her details, before passing her over to the triage nurse to give as much detail as she could about what had happened to her sister. Buffy explained as much as she felt able, wondering how this was going to look to social services, but knowing that Dawn needed the medical attention for her other injuries if not because of the venom in her system.

"Her boyfriend called earlier to say that someone had spiked both their drinks. By the time his dad got there Brandon was hurt and was brought here and my sister was gone. We’ve been looking for her ever since. When we found her she was like this. She came out of it once, but reverted back almost straight away.

My fiancé and some friends managed to track down the people who’d taken her. She’s been poisoned with a rare, animal venom which causes hallucinations. He’s on his way here now with the antidote, but we’re more worried about her other injuries. It seems… The person who took her may have abused her, but she hasn’t been herself long enough to tell us anything."

"It’s okay, miss. We’ve been expecting you. Your friend in the army managed to arrange for their specialist to be-."

"No!" Buffy’s response startled the nurse with its vehemence. "I don’t want her treated by army physicians. I want her treated by normal doctors." Frustration welled up in Buffy as she knew blurting out that the army was responsible for her sister’s injuries would ultimately bring them more trouble. "Please, I just want her to be examined by a normal doctor. Someone who can treat her for the wound on her thigh and the damage she’s done to her feet. Once Will gets here with the antidote it’ll take care of the rest unless there’s any further damage we don’t know about."

The nurse’s sympathetic attitude seemed to harden slightly. "Miss Summers, I have to say that in my opinion it would be remiss of you to not take advantage of the specialist. It’s almost certain he would have more experience with these types of cases."

Buffy bit back the temptation to point out that he probably had more experience causing them.

"Okay, how about this? He can watch while she’s examined by a proper doctor and if he has anything to say he can tell us, but I’m not having anyone from the army administering drugs to her or laying a finger on her and wherever possible I want to be with her in the treatment room. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly." The nurse bustled off toward the line of treatment cubicles, presumably to tell the army doctor his services were to be barely tolerated. Buffy followed after her but Wesley hesitated.

"Perhaps I should go and let Mr Michaels and Brandon know that we found her?"

"Sure. If they’ll let you." Buffy looked over at the nurse.

"I think under the circumstances, he might be allowed a brief visit."

Wesley headed for the lift. "I’ll be back shortly."

"Mr Michaels," Wes knocked softly at the door, before pushing it open. The police guard was gone, so it seemed like either Brandon had come round for long enough to tell them what they wanted to know or they had realised that they weren’t going to be taking a death-bed deposition.

Brandon’s father looked up from his seat by the far bed. "Yes?" he responded equally quietly to Wes’s whispered greeting, as though afraid to wake the youth in the bed.

"It’s Wesley Wyndham-Price. We met earlier. I just wanted to let you both know that we found Dawn."

"How is she?" the older man asked.

"We’re confident in time she’ll make a full physical recovery. She’s been poisoned but Spike and some other acquaintances managed to find out what had been used and he’s on the way here with the antidote.

It’s really not her physical injuries that are our major concern."

"So what is your major concern."

"Well, when Buffy was explaining to the admitting nurse about Dawn’s condition she mentioned there was a possibility of ‘abuse’, a word which has certain connotations in these times, which if it’s true could obviously have long-lasting psychological effects. As I came back on the bike, I don’t actually know exactly what Spike may have been able to tell her.

Added to this, you don’t have to be a genius to know that Buffy is understandably concerned that this may affect her case for guardianship." Even in the dimly lit room Wesley’s gaze met the other man’s squarely.

"I think, bearing in mind that the prime culprit is now in military custody and unlikely to face a civil trial, it would be better if your army friends began their cover up before word of this gets to social services. Buffy, Dawn and Spike deserve the chance to be a family."

The man on the other side of the room nodded. "I think that can be arranged. Why don’t you stay with Brandon in case he wakes up, while I go find somewhere I can use my phone?"

Spike didn’t even wait to check with the nurse when he made his way through the hospital doors. He simply let himself be guided by the scent of Dawn’s blood. It didn’t even register that the receptionist had scuttled out from behind her desk to try to stop the intruder. He paused as he reached the curtain that separated him from his girls unsure whether Dawn might not be suitably dressed for him to visit.

"Buffy?" he asked. "Is it okay to come in?"

The curtain was flung aside, and if not for the orbs Spike had a funny feeling he would have been bowled over by Buffy’s fierce welcoming hug. He was in for another surprise as he caught a glimpse of Dawn dressed in a hospital gown sitting up in the hospital bed behind her, a huge grin plastered across her face at her sister’s enthusiasm.

"She’s…"

"Jeez, Spike. Don’t you start talking about me as if I’m not here. I got enough of that from the doctors. I’m in and out, so make the most of it and get me that antidote before I go back to being a ball of light again."

"Antidote, right." Spike looked round searching for a member of staff, suddenly noticing the receptionist who had been about to head back to her desk when she saw the welcome Spike received. "Excuse me, miss. You wouldn’t know where we could find a syringe or someone who can administer an injection?"

The receptionist sniffed. "I believe Miss Summers told the doctor his services could be best employed fetching her and her sister a soda from the vending machine."

Spike raised a questioning brow as he moved round to give Dawn her own hug and Buffy flushed beneath his gaze. "Riley sent some army specialist, who just happened to be so close to hand that he got here before I did."

"You think the boys are back in town?"

"Up until tonight I haven’t seen anyone I recognised but then, they wouldn’t want me to. I think once everything’s settled I’m going to want a nice long chat with Mr Michaels."

Dawn’s grin vanished. "Not any longer than the one I’m going to want with Brandon."

"Now, look, pet. Give him a chance to explain. A guy doesn’t-." Spike’s pleas on Brandon’s behalf were cut short by the arrival of the soda delivery guy.

Buffy pulled the can from his hand with a look of distaste. "Didn’t we tell you to get diet?"

"Pet… Be nice to the man who’s going to make your little sister better."

Buffy pulled herself in close against her fiancé once more. "You’re the one who got the stuff. All he’s going to do is stick a needle in her… and why does she get a needle when I had to drink a liquid compost heap?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Spike replied.

"Now, you want me to administer an injection?" the doctor asked.

"Well if you want I could do it, but I don’t know what the insurance company might make of that," Spike suggested.

"Can we quit squabbling and somebody just give me the jab so I can get out of here and put on some clothes that cover my butt?" Dawn interrupted.

Spike pulled a bottle of antivenin from his pocket and tossed it to the doctor, who peered rather too intently at the label for comfort.

"You got some sort of problem, there, doc?"

The doctor turned to look at Spike. "This substance is from an army dispensary."

"And so is what made her sick in the first place. Just give her the damn shot."

The doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable with the situation but moved to follow Spike’s instructions. "How much?"

"All of it."

The doctor moved to find a syringe in the trays of the trolley by Dawn’s bedside but it seemed that their time had run out. Even as he filled the syringe Dawn’s eyes seemed to lose focus once more.

Chapter 6.16

Spike cradled Buffy in his lap as they both waited anxiously by her sister’s bedside. The slayer stroked her sibling’s hand as if hoping the contact might help pull the teenager back from her delusion. Spike, in turn, stroked Buffy’s back and twined the fingers of her other hand with his own.

"She should be coming out of it by now. It’s not working. She should be better."

"Shhh… love. It’s only been half an hour. Plenty time yet." Spike’s words were partially belied by his own anxiety that Buffy could feel through the bond. "And if the first dose doesn’t bring her round we’ve got plenty more. And to be quite honest I wouldn’t be too upset if it took all three bottles to put the Bit to rights." An element of self-satisfaction made itself known.

"Spike, what aren’t you telling me?"

"Hell!" said the vampire with a disingenuous smile. "Did I forget to mention that I’m expecting your ex to turn up looking for the leftovers? …Once he puts two and two together and works out what’s wrong with his missus, that is."

"Spi-ike." Buffy sounded surprised and impressed. She pressed her lips to Spike’s forehead.

"You’re not ticked?" the vampire asked.

"It seems to smack of justice to me, in an eye for an eye sort of way. I guess it’s sort of petty, but after what she did… and I guess there’s no permanent damage."

"Hey, I don’t claim to be a champion. You want petty and vindictive? That, I can do."

"So? You have all the antidote?"

"All that they had on the train. I guess if Huck Finn doesn’t come looking for it then we know they’ve got the base back up and running again."

"Where do you reckon Brandon and his dad fit into all this?" Buffy asked.

"I’m not rightly sure. It’s a bit strange that he knew about the whole Hostile 17 thing, but when he said he didn’t set the kids up, I believed him. And I know at that age everybody thinks they’re immortal, but you don’t get in the way of a bullet for someone you’re setting up."

"So, you think Brandon’s okay?"

Spike shrugged. "As much as I’m going to think any kid who comes after my Niblet is okay."

"That’s enough of a recommendation for me… And dad?"

"I guess we’ll hear him out."

At this point a nurse bustled into the cubicle. She passed a medium sized bag she was carrying to Buffy before she began going through the motions of taking Dawn’s temperature and pulse.

"The gentleman who came in with you earlier dropped those off for you," she told the couple. Then, she continued almost as if she were talking to herself. "Hmm, temperature’s dropping. Pulse is still the low side of normal…"

"So, she’s improving? Right?" Buffy asked.

"Yes, it seems so but we won’t know for sure until she comes round and stays round."

Spike’s attention seemed to be caught by some noise from outside the cubicle. "What is it?" Buffy asked, as the receptionist’s protests became more voluble and the nurse moved out into the corridor to see what was causing the disturbance.

Spike’s reply came slowly, and by the time he finished he was almost being drowned out by the woman’s protests and by the sound of curtains being pulled aside. "Unless I’m very much mistaken, pet, I think it’s Brandon." As he said the teenager’s name, the curtain around their cubicle was pulled aside to reveal the youth, still in a hospital gown, one hand clasping the stand to which the bag for his saline drip was attached. His father hovered closely behind him.

"Well, I guess the Summers women go for the stubborn types…" Buffy did her best to make light of the situation.

The older Michaels shrugged. "As soon as he woke up he was asking for her. When I said she’d been brought in, there was no way to keep him in that bed."

"How is she?" the teenager asked, looking as if it had taken all his reserves of strength to make his way down there. Spike slipped out from under Buffy and moved round to the opposite side of the bed to pull aside the curtain between Dawn’s cubicle and the next, revealing an empty bed.

"The fever’s dropping. As to the rest, it’s a waiting game. Why don’t you pull up a pew?" Spike took the seat next to Buffy’s leaving the chair between the two beds for Brandon’s father after they helped the teenager onto the empty bed.

"Really!" the nurse protested. "You can’t just commandeer a bed anywhere you feel like it. These beds may be needed at any time for emergency cases."

"Well, in that case, maybe you should consider transferring Dawn up to the same room as her young man, because I have a funny feeling he’s not going to be leaving," the vampire suggested. "It’s past due for her to be moved to somewhere with actual walls, anyway. I mean, anyone could just come barging in here whenever they want," he added dryly.

The nurse scowled at the group and stalked off.

Brandon’s father looked over at the vampire. "You seem to have a gift for ruffling people’s feathers."

"Well, it’s not like the boy’s doin’ any harm where he is, and it is past time they moved her out of here."

"I think they’re still supposed to be assessing her, so they can know which ward to put her in," Buffy offered. "It’s not like I’m in a hurry for them to stick her in the psychiatric ward."

"Shhh, pet." Spike’s arm wrapped around Buffy’s shoulders and she found herself pulled back onto his lap once more. "Not gonna happen. Not when they know it’s a result of the poison. Not unless she was dangerous, which she isn’t, though I don’t think I’d want to be in your shoes, kid, when she does come out of it.

Anyway, what’d the watcher send you?"

Buffy pulled open the bag and flipped through its contents. "Some clothes for Dawn, a couple of thermos flasks, your car and bike keys and a note." She pulled the envelope from the bag. Spike looked over her shoulder as she read it.

"Dear All,

Willow is fine. Riley dropped her off about an hour ago. She has a migraine-type headache, but other than that she seems okay in herself, though she is anxious to know what transpired whilst she was unconscious. She assures us all that a bit of willow bark will put her right. You may want to stock up on aspirin before you get home.

The car is outside, ready and waiting for when you need it and the bike’s back at Spike’s flat. Tara picked out some clothes for Dawn to wear coming home, whenever that is, and she also thought you might both need a pick me up, though Spike may have to be careful where and when he drinks his.

I hope this finds you all in the best of health.

Wesley."

"You know I sometimes wonder what we did before that guy started hanging round," Spike said.

"We relied on Xander and gave him very specific instructions," Buffy told him.

"I don’t suppose here would be the ideal place to discuss what happened tonight?" Brandon’s father asked.

"No, not unless we just move back up to your room anyway," Buffy answered. "Though I agree we need to talk."

"I had a feeling you might think you were due some sort of explanation."

"You feel right." This was from the vampire. "But, as you said, here isn’t the place. So, how about we call a truce for now."

The minutes ticked by as slowly as the first thaw of spring. After another half-hour Spike fetched the doctor from his Buffy-imposed exile in the waiting room and handed over a second bottle of the antivenin to inject her again. All the time they waited Buffy fretted and Spike did his best to reassure her, despite his own worries. Then, about twenty minutes after the second injection, Dawn’s hand shifted slightly under Buffy’s.

"Dawn? Dawnie? Are you okay?" Buffy whispered.

Dawn’s free hand reached to remove the tape that once again held her eyelids closed. "Jeez, I wish you guys would quit with this stuff. I’m going to have no eyelashes left," she teased her sister as she pulled the tape from her eyes.

"How’re you feelin’, Bitlet?" Spike asked softly, his gaze fixed upon his pseudo-daughter’s face.

"Kinda hung over… not of course that I would know hung over," she hastily covered. "Just that I feel like Xander looked when him and Anya broke up."

"Nice try." Her sister was too pleased to see her back to herself to make the strict voice stick. "We’ll discuss your impending alcoholism when you get home. For now, I think, maybe the guy in the next bed wants a few words."

Dawn swivelled her head in the opposite direction and then winced as the movement sent a spearhead of pain to her temples.

"Would there be any chance that you all might leave us alone for five minutes?" Brandon looked hopefully at the adults in the two cubicles.

"Reckon we should go find a doctor. Let him know she’s back in the land of the living. Maybe see if there’s anywhere we can get a decent cup of coffee round here, but talk quick ‘cause we kinda want some time with her ourselves." Buffy rose to her feet and stretched a hand to her fiancé as he made to follow his own suggestion.

As the adults cleared the room Dawn looked Brandon up and down. "You don’t look too bad for a guy who was shot last night."

"I don’t feel too bad either."

"Okay… What is it with you? I’m a bit confused here, and what with that and the humongous headache, I’m kinda cranky. Now, I guess I owe you an apology for thinking that you put that stuff in my drink, and I’m sorry for what I said, but if you’ve just been going out with me as some junior spy mission for daddy, then you better tell me now."

Spike turned to Brandon’s father as they left the ER treatment area having informed the doctor that she’d come round, but insisting he await her sister’s return before examining the patient. "I guess now might be a good time for that talk. What say we use Brandon’s room, since he doesn’t seem to have a use for it."

It actually took the three about a quarter of an hour to sort through the situation to their satisfaction, but Buffy just wanted to make sure she had everything straight.

"So your old army buddy asked you to take the job so that you could keep an eye open for anything unusual that the army might be up to in these parts, because he thought there was something fishy going on? And all you get in return is a glowing recommendation for department head when Sunnydale High re-opens next year?"

"Pretty much. But Jim’s a friend. I did it because he asked."

"And you only knew about us because you reviewed the files on what happened two years ago."

"Files, video footage, whatever Jim could lay his hands on."

"So, you don’t know anything about any surveillance?"

"Just what it said in the minutes of the meeting when The Initiative was supposedly being wound up, that it was thought they should keep tabs on you to ensure you wouldn’t go public. I would have assumed that it would have lapsed long ago once it became apparent you had no such plans."

"We don’t think so."

"I can see if there’s anything Jim can do about that. Once they track down the people this Sam Finn was working with."

"Just one more thing. You say you had access to the files. Does that include the files on the prisoners? And what sort of video footage are we talking about?"

"The files are a bit hit and miss. A lot of the records were destroyed. There were quite a few fires that last day, but there were some inmate files." He gave a nod toward Spike. "Yours was an especially thick one. As far as video goes, it’s just really surveillance camera footage of that last day. The video storage room was a write off. All the tapes of the day to day stuff were destroyed."

"We’re going to need to see whatever you’ve got?" Buffy watched the former soldier carefully for any sign he would refuse her request, even if she had framed it as a statement.

"I’d have thought you would already know most of this. You were for a time part of the operation, and you were both there on the final day."

Spike knew why Buffy was asking and chose this moment to speak up. "Mr Michaels, some friends of ours lost a family member in that place. A little girl is growing up with no father. I don’t think it’s too much to expect for us to find out what we can about what actually happened to him."

"No, you’re right. It isn’t. You can have a look through anything I have, though I’m afraid I can’t let you take copies and I’ll have to be there."

"That’s fair, I suppose," Buffy admitted. "And your guy’s going to track down whoever authorised the train and whoever else was helping her and see to it that this demon hunting squad gets disbanded and the base is closed down again? Properly, this time?"

"I don’t think you’re going to need to worry about them resurfacing any time in the near future," the man confirmed.

"Alright, then. I don’t doubt that we’re going to have more to discuss, but for now, I think we both want to get back to Dawn."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow up a bit. Up until this morning, I didn’t know that there was any connection between your lot and dad coming here. I knew that Uncle Jim had asked him to take the job as a favour to him, but I had no idea why.

I asked you out… okay, this is going to sound so hokey that you’re probably going to dump me. The first time I saw you, just for a couple of seconds, it was like you glowed. Like you were this beautiful angel walking among us and I just knew…"

"So, is there a history of mental illness in your family?" Dawn countered but not in the caustic tone that he expected.

"Look, I know how it sounds… This isn’t some line that I’m feeding you to worm my way out of things, and normally, it would take ritual torture to get me to admit something like that-."

"I believe you. Just answer the question."

"Okay, no, to the best of my knowledge there is no family history of mental illness."

"What about second sight?"

"What? Why?"

"Just. Answer. The. Question."

"Well, yeah, actually. My grandfather, on ma’s side’s supposed to have a touch of the sight. But I don’t see what that…"

"You will… soon, assuming you still want to keep seeing me, that is?"

"You think I’d let some other guy take you to that formal in that killer dress that you won’t let me see?"

"I don’t know. Getting shot at would put most guys off, never mind getting shot."

"Well, like your sister said, the Summers girls seem to go for the stubborn type."

The End