Thanks to everyone who has followed and favorited, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Special thanks to Lacey Solane, Tanner Clark, Darkangel1967, subchan, and Laurafxox for the reviews. I've been working to replot and figure out some things since it's been so long since I last worked on this fic. So hopefully I'm going to end up with a slightly stronger plot than I would have before.

Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter Nine - Hands On Learning

The peaceful quiet I'd fallen asleep to had been utterly shattered by the time I'd woken up. Trying not to groan, I opened my eyes just enough to glare at Spike. He'd showered, and traded out his dirty pants for clean clothes so at least he didn't smell bad. Still, hygiene aside, he could be fucking loud when he wanted to be.

"No! No! You weren't supposed to fall for her, you lovelorn jackass!" Spike yelled over the swell of the violins. He must have been watching Passions again. I'd had him in my house long enough to learn to tune that shit out, otherwise I would've gone insane.

"What are you talking about?" Another, shriller, voice yelled back, "She's perfect for him. If he were made of peanut butter, then she would be the sweet tang of bananas and pickles to even out his swarthy nuttiness."

Other than the wet sound of kissing from the television, the room became very quiet for a moment.

"An," another voice, I'm pretty sure it was Xander's, came from near the dining table, "What are you putting on your sandwiches?"

"Good things," she quipped, "like this relationship. Donny and Melanie are just meant to be together. It's like me and Xander, if Xander were a Spanish bad boy with a heart of gold." When had everyone gotten here? I thought they'd all gone home. I was supposed to have a few days in hiding with nothing to do but relax ,and no one to deal with but a couple of Brits.

"No, I don't like it," Spike muttered, "He's just going to break both of their hearts."

Xander hopped up, walking past the couches on his way to the bathroom. "If she starts watching this," Xander said, patting Spike on the shoulder, "I'm going to stake you so hard."

"What the hell is going on?" I grumbled, propping myself up on my elbows.

"Nonsense," Giles grumbled from the kitchen.

Trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I sat up and yawned. The whole gang was here, sans Buffy, and last time I'd checked we didn't have any major apocalypse scheduled...those usually rolled around in May. So, why the hell weren't they just letting me sleep?

Glaring at Anya and Spike, who had gone back to bickering, I kicked off my blanket and stumbled over to the kitchen where Giles was waiting on his tea pot. I had hardly even gotten there, a desperate plea for caffeine already on my lips, when he pushed a hot cup of coffee across the counter. A lot of cream and a little bit of cinnamon, just how I liked it. Nodding a thank you, I took a sip, and shuffled off towards the dining room table.

I'd never really been a morning person, part of the reason I tended to play hookey, but to be honest I was pretty sure it wasn't even morning. The window into the garden was black, so unless it was some ungodly hour I was pretty sure it was night. I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping, but it hadn't been long enough. My eyes were heavy and I sort of felt like I'd been hit by a truck.

Someone needed to remind me to never do cardio again. This running thing just couldn't be good for me.

"So, what's up?" I asked, pulling out a chair next to Will, who had her nose ten feet deep into what was either a textbook or a spell book .

"Hm?" Will didn't even look up, pen wandering over to a notebook where she scrawled out vervain. Definitely a spell book then.

"Pow wow, why?"

"I dunno, Buffy called us. She didn't really explain, but she's on her way." Will didn't exactly sound particularly worried, but with everything we'd been through Godzilla could show up outside Del Taco and no one would be all that fussed. So, shrugging, I cupped my mug in my hands and relished the cinnamony-goodness while I had the chance.

Despite the lingering exhaustion I was starting to ease into the moment. It wasn't often I got to spend much time with everyone these days, especially time that felt as domestic as this. Taking another sip of coffee I peeked over Willow's shoulder, it looked like she was making a shopping list of the witchy variety.

"Spell?" I asked.

"I'm hoping so," Will said with a hint of uncertainty, "It's a lot more complicated than I'm used to, I'm not even sure if I'm going to be able to find everything. Like, the catnip won't be hard; but where on earth am I supposed to find a bell blessed by the Goddess Batset?"

I frowned, what the hell was a Batset? "What are you even working on?" I asked.

Willow ducked her head, a sheepish smile on her lips, "Me and Tara wanted to try to make a cat."

I couldn't help laughing, her most complicated spell yet and she wanted to make a cat. Shaking my head, I took another sip of coffee. I guess everyone had hobbies; some made model airplanes, some made kittens. Pretty soon Willow was giggling too, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

"What're you chirping about over there, Bird?" Spike's voice called from the living room.

"Willow's making a -" Will shook her head violently, and I paused, "A...she's making a new recipe for spaghetti sauce!"

Willow gave me a, 'really?' look, and I shrugged.

"And that's funny?" Xander asked.

"It's...it's going to be blue!" I called back, and then hissed at Willow, "Why the kaibosh on the cat?"

She shrugged, "Giles is gonna start nagging about risking tampering with gods to make a kitten." When I raised a brow she continued, "It takes a lot of power to create a whole life form out of nothing."

I mean, that made sense, but why go through the trouble? There was a pound down the street. Still, if they were determined, there had to be a slightly easier way that didn't involve higher powers...Giles was a stickler for caution and all, but even I had to admit that getting dragged to a hell dimension by a pissed off God was a lot to risk for a kitten.

"What if you don't make it...you just, change it? Amy's a rat now, why not turn a beetle or something into a kitten?"

"That's going to be a pretty stupid kitten," Willow said, when the front door opened.

Buffy was standing in the doorway, a storm on her face. There was a little tug in my gut, I wasn't exactly happy with her. However, pissed as I was, I couldn't help but be worried. She looked a bit too serious, a bit too upset, and a bit too angry. The gang had all paused what they were doing, peering over at our friend. Well, everyone except Spike, he was still watching Passions.

"You were stupid to pick him, love," Spike muttered. We all ignored him.

"What's up, Buff?" Xander asked, "You look kinda -" he motioned around his face.

"Walsh tried to kill me," Buffy cut him off, stalking in and slamming a busted up...gun...of some sort down on the coffee table. Willow and I got up, filtering into the living room with everyone else.

"Are you quite sure?" Giles asked, cleaning his glasses as he stepped out of the kitchen.

"I don't know what else to call being trapped in a sewer with two demons and a faulty gun, motherly affection?" Buffy asked, "Cause I wasn't really feeling it while avoiding being turned into a slayer-shishkabob."

"Tiger-Mommy affection?" Xander suggested, earning a few exasperated glares.

"Walsh is pretty hardcore," Willow said, "but she's now stupid. I don't think she'd risk someone just to test them...would she?"

Buffy shook her head, "I'd seen those demons before, we had them in quarantine...that place is almost impossible to get out of and Polgaras aren't exactly brilliant. Someone let them out, and if they're after me then it's not going to take long for them to find you. I don't think it's safe for any of us right now."

"So what, we're going into hiding or something?" Willow asked.

"Welcome to the club," I muttered under my breath.

"For now, just till we sort this out." Buffy was pacing, graceful as usual, but she seemed stressed. It was quiet for a moment.

"And what did Riley…" Xander started, trailing off as he figured out how to phrase his question.

Buffy frowned, "What about Riley?"

"Yeah," a deep voice came from the door, "What about me?"

Holy shit that man was quiet. I stiffened, gaze darting to Spike. He was already looking at me, jaw tense. Captain America only had eyes for Buffy right now, but that didn't mean he wasn't one gander around the room from realizing that his escaped hostiles were at large…and watching soap operas.

"I believe that Xander was suggesting that you may have had a role in the assassination attempt on your girlfriend," Anya piped up, helpful as always.

You could see the gears turning in Riley's head as he looked at Buffy, "What?"

"How much do you know?" Buffy's expression was guarded. The two were still pretty wrapped up in each other, and I found myself inching towards Spike. Honestly I was hoping I could just blend into the floor, but if me and my favorite vamp had to make a break for it so be it. He had a cozy crypt we could stay in for a week or two...or until the government made enough budget cuts to scrap the Initiative.

"I...I don't know," Riley said, sounding more than a bit lost, "I wasn't there until the end, I was out on a mission." Said mission being me.

"Walsh tried to kill me, Riley."

"It's got to be more complicated than that, there's something we're missing I -" He turned, and stopped short, his eyes locking on Spike. It didn't take him long to find me either, and my heart immediately jumped into my throat. Well fuck. "Those are Hostiles seventeen and twenty-eight."

"No, no I'm...I'm just a friend of Xanders," Spike said in the worst southern accent I've ever heard.

At the same time, seeing no way out, I fessed up, "Yeah you got me."

Spike rolled his eyes, but stood, "Alright, yeah, I'm your guy."

My muscles were still stiff from running all last night, but my flight instinct was starting to ramp up more and more as Riley looked between us and Buffy. I backed up ever so slightly, bumping into Spike's chest. Fingers brushed up against my waist as he placed a hand on my hip. If Riley decided to call anyone in we were going to have to bolt...just this time, with a price on Buffy's head too, it would be all of us.

At least I had a little more solidarity now.

"I've been looking for them for ages," Riley turned to Buffy, "And you've known where they were all this time?"

"It's complicated," Buffy said, glancing at me, "They're not what you think they are. They're not...monsters per say."

"Oi," Spike called out from behind me, "Speak for yourself, Slayer. I'd be monstering all up and down Sunnydale if I could...just ran into a couple roadblocks s'all." I could feel a slight rumble in his chest as he grumbled under his breath in frustration. My heart started to beat a little fast for the completely wrong reasons given the situation, and I had to pinch myself. Crushes were evil.

"Okay, well Spike's complicated," Buffy said, "But, Marley wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"That?" Riley said, pointing an accusatory finger towards me, "That wouldn't hurt a fly?" I didn't exactly appreciate being called 'that'. "That put one of our Docs in critical while it was unconscious on the operating table, just because it looks all American Pie with the blonde curls doesn't make it any less of a threat. It was scheduled to be euthanized the day it escaped."

I hurt someone? My brow furrowed, I hadn't actually hurt a person with my glowing before. I knew I could, but I'd always been so careful. I'd always made sure not to use my powers, I'd only ever gone all glittery on accident. Buffy looked at me again and, freaked as I was, I could see she was conflicted. What do you say to your boyfriend when he wants to put down your friend?

"Alright yeah, blame the Bird when you're the one who started snipping at her with scissors." Spike came to my defense, "You see a snake you don't know, you don't go poking at it with a stick."

"Riley you don't know her," Buffy said firmly, "And I promise you she's not a problem. The problem is your boss."

"Walsh wouldn't try to -"

"Have me killed? Because she did."

Riley huffed, looking more confused than angry, "Look I'm going to go figure this out, alright? I'll talk to Walsh, and after I've gotten this mess sorted we can discuss…" he glanced at me and Spike, "Other things."

"You planning on giving your buddies a tip on where to bag a helpless vamp and a little girl when you get back?" Xander asked.

"Not helpless," Spike interjected.

"We're going to be getting you fanged dentures soon," Xander shot back.

Struggling to find too much humor in the situation, I waited as Riley looked at me. "No," he said, finally, "No I'll leave them alone. For now." With that he headed for the door again, and disappeared, leaving the rest of us in silence. Buffy made eye contact with me, an apology on her face that I didn't entirely notice.

I'd hurt someone?

Cool fingers squeezed my hip reassuringly, and without thinking I let myself lean a little farther into Spike.


We'd chosen Xander's basement as the best place to hide out till we were in the clear. His parents weren't exactly the type to ask questions about why so many people, including a strange, full grown man (vampire), and the old Sunnydale Librarian were living in their basement. With the added bonus that no one from the Initiative really knew that Xander existed, or where he lived, it seemed perfect.

Despite the mildew, and Anya's graphic descriptions of exactly what had occurred in the bed we would be sleeping in tonight...okay so not perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than the shock guns and cold white walls that awaited me in the Initiative.

It would be cramped, very cramped, as Spike let us know through some rather adamant complaining while the rest of us set up our sleeping arrangements for the night. Xander had gone upstairs to rob his parents linen closet, and Giles had set about blowing up the "inflatable mattress" that was starting to look more and more like an armchair with each breath.

"Alright," Xander said, trotting down the stairs with an armful of blankets, "Girls can take the bed." Oh God, I'm pretty sure I'd rather sleep on the floor...ants or no, "I've got the armchair, Giles has the mattress -"

"Are you entirely sure you know what a mattress is?" Giles mumbled, staring at the purple monstrosity skeptically.

Xander ignored him, and kept going, "And I have one nice pile of sheets for Spike."

"Oh come on!" Spike muttered from the arm chair, "You're giving me this shit on purpose."

"Yes, I am," Xander said, handing him his sheets.

"Don't you sleep on top of a stone slab anyways?" Buffy asked, pulling a pair sushi-covered of pjs out of her bag.

"Yeah," Spike shrugged, "Doesn't mean I don't expect a bit of genuine hospitality."

As usual, we ignored Spike and went about our business.

I felt heavy, partially exhaustion, but mostly I just felt like someone had shoved a lump iron down into my stomach. I felt tired, and like I wanted to sleep for a few years. Or just disappear, or...I didn't even know, but part of me would really like to be wrapped up in my bed back home clutching my pony Harold (newly restuffed).

I glanced at Buffy, and couldn't help but feel that pang in my stomach multiply. I couldn't even tell if I was angry anymore. The Initiative had kind of fucked her over too. Still, that didn't change the fact that sometimes I felt like I was turning into as much of an afterthought as Spike was.

Sighing I grabbed my pjs, and went behind the makeshift sheet-curtain to change. Luckily I'd already had all my stuff at Giles' so I had my favorite cloth shorts and some tanks...which would have been more comfy if it weren't winter in an unheated basement. Ready for bed, I pulled the curtain back and practically jumped out of my skin.

"What the fuck, Spike?" I snapped, not in any mood to be scared. He'd come and stood right up next to the sheet, just waiting.

"Pop outside for a word?" He asked, nodding towards the door.

"I'm in my pjs, and it's like fifty degrees outside." Not freezing or anything, but you come to expect a certain level of warmth when living in southern California. He just kept staring at me expectantly with those bright blue eyes that could be surprisingly boyish when he wanted them to be. I sighed, "Fine."

Buffy watched me curiously as I followed him outside, and I nodded a sort of 'don't worry' to her.

"Why're we staying here, Bird?" He asked as the door shut behind us.

"Everyone is," I said. Not that I particularly wanted to be with everyone, but I didn't want to be with Spike either. I wanted to be alone. I kept thinking about what Riley had meant by 'critical'.

"I mean in Sunnydale. You heard G.I. Joe, you had a euthanasia date. You think they won't schedule a make up if they get their hands on you again?" He looked genuinely concerned, an odd thing for Spike, but...I didn't want to leave. Sure, if I had a bunch of gun men right on my ass I'd jump in Spike's blacked out car and get the hell out of dodge. Still, as lost as I felt right now I needed something to keep me grounded, and Sunnydale was home. My family was here.

"I...Why do you care?" I asked, trying to change the topic, even if just a little bit.

He shrugged, "Don't like the thought of you goin out with a needle full of poison stuck up your arm...doesn't seem right." I blinked, meeting earnest eyes just for a moment. He scowled, looking towards the ground. He'd always been good at not letting me fall behind, but I was trying to figure when he actually had started caring. He did, didn't he?

"Spike...I can't leave."

"What? You want to stay here and wait till Soldier Boy decides to put duty first and shafts the both of us?"

"You don't have to stay, Spike," I said, though I almost regretted it the moment I'd said it. He was my friend...still felt weird attaching that word to him...but I'd miss him. I spent more time with this vampire than just about anyone else these days. "If you need to get out…"

"What, you want me to just leave?" He asked, voice rising a little.

"Do you want them to stake you?" I shot back.

"No! That's why I'm saying we book it," he glanced over my shoulder, back towards the scoobies getting ready for bed, "Doesn't have to be forever, Bird. Just till we don't have death sentences on our heads...don't got the luxury of a lover boy on the inside to vouch for us."

I wanted to. Partially because I was scared, partially because I was scared I'd be even more lonely without him. Buffy hadn't exactly been a constant to be counted upon these days, and while Spike wasn't a beacon of responsibility he was there. Still, Buffy wasn't sitting in the clear anymore...I couldn't just leave her.

"Spike, I'm sorry...I -"

"Fine," he cut me off, "I get it." He didn't go back inside, stalking off towards the road. I let him, it wasn't exactly like there was much I could do to change his mind. If he was smart he'd skip town, I didn't think they'd let him live much longer if they got him either.

Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath and stepped back inside.

"What happened to Spike?" Willow asked when she noticed I was alone.

"I don't think he was a fan of the sleeping arrangements."


I woke up drenched in sweat and desperate for a fresh breath of air. Groaning, I tried to shift even just a little bit, but there wasn't much use. Four girls in one bed, and somehow I'd managed to make it to the bottom of the pile. My legs were asleep from the weight of an ex-demon, Buffy's arm was thrown over my face (and also covered in my drool, so ha), and Willow was peacefully snoring away with my boobs as a pillow.

Craning my neck as high as I could, I glanced at the clock. Seven forty was late enough to wake everyone up, and I wasn't going to make it much longer without being able to breath. So, I kicked out, kneeing Anya straight in the ribs.

"Ow, Marley!" She shot up, glaring at me with enough venom to make me remember her normal work day used to involve eviscerations.

Feigning the grogginess of having just woke up, I rubbed my eyes and yawned, "What?"

Willow and Buffy were shifting too, and beyond the curtain I was pretty sure I could hear the sound of a grumpy Brit muttering under his breath. Xander was still snoring, as he had been since we turned off the lights.

All senses of duty, morality, and general loyalty towards my family had wavered on and off over the night. I think it was around two AM when I heard Xander fart loud enough to wake Willow up that I began to regret not going with Spike...just a little bit. I knew I'd made the right decision, but there was a pang of guilt for letting him leave alone. I just couldn't win for losing today, could I?

I wondered how far he'd gotten last night, if he'd pulled over in some parking garage to sleep away the sun. He would be just fine, and knowing Spike he'd show up again. He had a tendency to do that.

Dragging myself out from underneath the pile of supernatural limbs, I suddenly felt incredibly cold as the air hit my sweat-dampened pajamas. Fresh clothes was first on my to do list, sneaking back home for a real shower was a close second. I had no plans to use Xander's parents' upstairs. By the time I'd pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, Anya had turned on old cartoons. The coyote was about to get slammed when Giles stalked it in and turned it off.

"No," he muttered, and disappeared back through the curtain. Xander was up, and unsurprisingly perky...based on how much he'd snored he had to be the only one who'd actually slept.

"So," Xan said with a smile as he popped through the curtain, and made a beeline for the stairs, "Breakfast? I'll get us some breakfast, how do poptarts sound?" No one had a chance to respond before he was upstairs.

"I like cinnamon," Willow said halfheartedly as the basement door closed.

"It is far too early for this," Giles grumbled, stepping back through the curtain now in a fresh shirt and sporting his glasses, "What ungodly hour is it?"

"It's like, eight in the morning," I said. Not too early, I usually was up at six for school….you know, when I actually went.

"You know, Giles, maybe you should get a job," Anya said, reaching over and turning on the Road Runner again, "Xander actually works all day, and he has a great sleep schedule."

"Noted."

"Guys!" Xander yelled, thundering down the staircase with an armful of poptarts, "Guys turn on the news! Channel Five!" He threw everyone packets of chocolate sunday as Willow stole the remote from Anya and flipped the channel. A red 'breaking news' banner was scrolling at the bottom of the screen.

"The boy has been identified as Jackson Brooks, a fourth grader at Sunnydale Elementary who was found murdered in Sunnyside Park this morning by joggers," the news anchor said in her clipped, professional tone, "The cause of death is not yet certain, it seems that stabbing with a large skewer-like object is the most likely scenario. Any information should…"

Buffy turned it off, a glower on her face.

"It was the Polgara demons, it had to be!" She exclaimed, standing up, "I can't believe how reckless Walsh is, that little boy died because she released dangerous monsters for her own personal vendetta! I'm going to go out there, I'm going to kill them, and bring justice to that little boy...and then I'm going to - This would all sound a little more impressive if I weren't wearing my yummi-sushi pajamas, wouldn't it?"

We all nodded, and Anya piped up, "Yeah, they kind of lack authority."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, and bent down, pulling out a stake and a couple wicked looking knives and tossing them on the bed. She grabbed her clothes and went to go change, leaving the rest of us to munch on pop-tarts in the stale basement air. I really didn't want to be here right now.

"Buffy," I called to her through the changing-room sheet, "Are you going to need some backup? I could always -"

"No," she said quickly, opening up the curtain, now fully dressed, "Too dangerous for you. Riley's friends are going to be tracking down those demons too, I don't need you getting caught up with them."

"Didn't stop you from bringing them to the Bronze the other night," I muttered, just under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," I grumbled, taking another bite out of my poptart, "Doesn't matter."


It didn't take long for me to make my escape. Anya and Xander started arguing about something stupid, I think it was her rights to organize his underwear; Willow started reading; Giles, exhausted, eventually passed out in the arm chair. No one noticed me slip out the door and start walking. It had taken me thirty minutes to get back to my house, it used to take ten but that was before Willows 'will be done' had done-d my poor bike into oblivion. So I walked, all the way back home, where I took a nice hot shower.

Finally clean, I grabbed the obligatory stake, the pepper spray of Sunnydale, and a sword. Buffy may not want me getting in the way of danger, but at a certain point of boredom you start feeling like doing something stupid. I was starting to wonder if over the years I'd secretly become an adrenaline junkie, and this year was just so boring that I was going through withdrawls.

Now that I didn't have Spike dragging me behind him through stupid situations, I supposed I should go out and create some for myself. Maybe even prove to Buffy that I wasn't so much of a liability I couldn't make it out there with a few soldiers after me, it wasn't like they hadn't tried to kill Buffy too. And you know...get justice for a murdered child…that was a definitely a goal too.

Flipping the sword's grip in my hand, not entirely sure how to use it but with the general idea that it was sharp and good at stabbing things ingrained in my head, I stepped out into the street. The Polgara's had been seen in the sewers, so, with Buffy heading towards the crime scene I decided I would try to find the demons themselves. It took more effort than I'm proud of, and a lot of grunting, but I got the manhole open and somehow managed to climb down the ladder with three pounds of steel in one hand.

The sewer smelled less than pleasant, a fact I knew all too well. So, as I wandered through the dark, I decided that maybe I'd rather risk being jumped and killed somewhere that smelled a little better. I took the first run off tunnel I could find, relishing the slightly cleaner scent of damp and mold.

It was getting darker and darker as I moved away from the dim light of storm drains and man holes. This whole place echoed, filled with eerie drips and musical drops, and each time my blade scraped the stone edge I practically jumped out of my skin with the image of claws in my mind. At least I hadn't run into any spider webs.

I had been walking through the pitch black for fifteen minutes; had taken what was either three lefts and two right, or two lefts and three rights; and had soaked my shoes down to my socks in freezing water by the time I realized I was lost. It was another five minutes before I heard the faint sound of something moving in the connecting tunnel ahead of me. I froze, heart in my throat, it sounded huge.

It wasn't just the gentle splash of feet in the water, it was the drag of flesh against stone that made me wonder if it was even able to stand up all the way down here. Doing my best to keep my breathing under control, I froze, hand tight around the hilt of my sword. Every once in awhile I would hear the scrape of something metallic in the tunnel ahead of me. Was it armed? It was getting closer and closer, and soon, if it hadn't been so dark, I would have been able to see it pass the intersection.

For whatever enhanced sight Spike said I had, it sure as hell didn't work down here where there was no light at all.

The footsteps became crisp and clear. It had to be no more than ten feet in front of me. Something clinked, and slowly, as if it were turning to look at me a little red light appeared at eye level. I had completely stopped breathing, wasn't really thinking, I just waited as we both stood in complete silence. Then, with the faint hiss of feet in water, the light rotated back into the darkness and the footsteps moved off.

It was a few more seconds before I really started breathing again. Then I had to consider my options.

I was lost, and had no idea where I was going. I couldn't see, and maybe if I thought hard enough I could get a little bit of glow going, but between my haywire powers and the thought of what my light might attract down here I discounted the idea. I didn't like the idea of running into whatever the hell that was again, but it also seemed to have an idea of where it was going. Maybe if I just kept my distance...it had left me alone the first time.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped my sword a little tighter, and started walking. Turning right to follow the demon I tried to keep my feet out of the water, hoping it wouldn't notice it was being followed. Really hoping it wouldn't decide it wanted a snack.

I'm not sure how long I followed the distant echo of its footsteps, but eventually the tunnel was enveloped in a faint bluish light. It grew stronger and stronger as I followed the curve, struggling to keep up right on the slippery, sloped stone. I was beginning to strongly regret my decision making skills today. And then there I was, daylight, and not a massive demon to be seen.

Standing at the end of the tunnel, I relished the feel of sunlight on my skin, and wondered how the hell I hadn't managed to get myself killed down there. Dumb luck, like usual. I jumped, taking the three foot drop from the culvert down into a puddle...not that I minded, my shoes were already drenched. I was out in the woods somewhere, and now I just had to find out how to get back to town.

The culvert was coming out of the sheer face of a small cliff, I must have made it into the hills. If only I could find a slightly more climbable part of the slope I could get on the high ground and see where I was. Wondering why no one in our group had ever invested in sword belts, or sheaths, or really anything to make weapon-carrying easier I started walking. This damn thing got heavy after a while, and my arm was sore.

I was so lost in thought I hardly noticed the massive demon as I passed him...oh, huh, I supposed I should have expected that. Things that big don't just disappear. I froze, feeling its eyes on me. He smiled, almost friendly if it weren't for the cold light in his multi colored eyes. He was taller than I expected, the red light having been on a chest plate not his eye...if he were any closer I would be craning my neck to make eye contact.

That wasn't the most surprising part about him though. I was more shocked by the frankenstein gig he had going on, a human face stitched directly into something more demonic, all finished off in shiny chrome plating. I swallowed hard, raising my sword ever so slightly. This thing was so big I'd have about as much chance to outrun it as I would to outrun a bear.

"You can put that down," he said, pointing to my blade with a clawed hand. I couldn't help but notice the Polgara skewer in his tacked on arm. Was this the thing that killed the boy? "I have no interest in killing you, I was actually hoping you would follow me here." He spoke in a surprisingly even and sophisticated tone. Most demons were so...gurgly.

I stayed quiet, watching him cautiously.

"What are you?" He asked.

"I...I don't know," I responded, a bit taken aback. It was the truth, I had no idea what I was. "What are you?"

"I suppose I'm trying to figure that out as well," he said, "I'm a bio-mechanical demonoid...but I still have questions. You intrigue me though, you have power. I've been curious ever since I saw you back home."

"Home?" I asked.

"Yes, home. The scientists were operating when you went up in the most beautiful light. The smell of burnt flesh, the screaming...chaos really," he said, a touch of awe in his voice. I just felt a bit like I was going to throw up, "It was so raw, organic, something that is as natural to you as breathing or sleep."

"No…" I said, backing up just a bit, I didn't want to be here. "It's not natural...I hurt people."

"You didn't hurt them, you showed them the potential that this project had. The things that we could do with someone like you."

"They were planning on killing me."

He nodded, conceding, "Correction, you showed me the potential you had. The change you could help me bring…the beauty in the brutality of our mission. My mother spoke of you to me more than once, she said she had seen nothing of your like. If you weren't so dangerous she would have loved to study you more, your kind is so rare."

"I don't want to use that kind of potential...I don't - wait my kin-"

"We could be friends, you and me," he cut me off, "My name is Adam. What should I call you?" He reached out a clawed hand in a stiff mockery of a handshake. I wanted to run, but I kept looking at that retractable skewer and knew it could pop out faster than I could turn around. So, I extended my hand and put it in his. It was dry and scaly, and his claws were cold against my wrist as his hand engulfed mine.

"I'm Marley."

"Marley," he smiled, "I hope to be seeing you."

With that he left, the brush giving way as he disappeared into the trees. I watched him go, turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. I didn't really care where I was going.


I practically was running by the time Xander's house came into view, tearing through the backyard and down to the basement door. I burst in, and was a little surprised that no one seemed to notice...though to be honest running in with a sword didn't make you all that special here. Buffy was a bit too busy giving orders, and Xander and Anya were bickering about something that I just assumed was related.

Sighing, I leaned the sword against the bookshelf.

"Guys!"

"Look, An, I'll be fine I'm going with Buffy," Xander said, not looking my way.

"Guys!"

"Well we don't have time to waste," Buffy said, grabbing Xander, "Let's go."

"Guys!" I raised my voice to a yell, and they paused.

"Marley, I don't have time right now," Buffy said, a distracted frown on her lips as she brushed passed on her way to the door, "Something's wrong with Riley, I need to get to the Initiative."

"This is about the -" And she was gone...Shoving down the resentful annoyance that was bubbling up in my gut I took a deep breath and turned to Anya and Giles. I frowned, glancing down at the puddle forming around my shoes. "Anya, do you have any fresh socks here? I'm out."


"So you're saying you ran into whatever it was that killed that boy?" Giles asked, grabbing a dusty old demonology book, "Anya and I had a feeling that whatever it was couldn't be the Polgara, the murder simply sounded...too intelligent."

"I didn't just run into him, I talked to him," I said, "and you don't need that. He won't be in there."

His brow furrowed, but he nodded and set the book down, "Why not?"

"Cause that book is old enough to be your grandfather and...Adam looks like something out of the Terminator." The whole monster-mash science lab vibe he had going on I guess fit the Initiative, he'd said he'd called it home after all, "To be honest I don't think he was natural, he was all stitched together like Frankenstein."

"And you think this...Adam...killed the boy?"

"He had a skewer, like a Polgara...just kinda sewn in." It all fit, but I was more curious as to what he wanted with me, "He was kind of weirdly polite though. Friendly even."

Giles frowned, pushing his glasses a little higher as he sat down in the arm chair, "Well I suppose we'll just keep an eye out, see if he causes anymore problems. If he's as polite -"

"I'm worried he is going to be a problem though. Soon," I said, glancing at the door. Adam was too big, with a bit too much fascination with my...deadlier aspects...for comfort, "He saw me while the soldiers had me, and with all the sciencey stuff...I think he's from the Initiative."

"You think they made him?" He asked, and I nodded. What worried me most was that Buffy had gone there...Adam wasn't in the Initiative anymore as far as I knew, but what if they had more things like him? He had a sort of impenetrable confidence...I knew if he'd actually gone after me I wouldn't have had a chance. Even Buffy might struggle with something like that.

"Socks," Anya said, walking by and tossing them as she went to the snack stash Xander had made for us.

"Thanks." I pulled off my sopping shoes, relishing the toasty-warm dryness of fresh socks.

"When Buffy gets back we can ask her if she saw anything...odd," Giles said a bit distantly, still processing the idea of a franken-demon. I nodded, my own thoughts starting to drift off as well. He'd said 'my kind', Adam knew what I was, didn't he? The Initiative knew.

Giles had gotten up, wandering towards Xander's shitty coffee maker that produced something closer to sludge than espresso. Should I even bring that part up? I did want to understand what I was, what I could do, and how to control myself...it was just that, especially with Giles, he could get so pushy about it. Once he had a name and a dictionary definition he'd have drawn up a syllabus on Marley 101.

He'd probably make me train too. I already knew enough about my powers to know I didn't want to indulge them. The pain I'd caused, Adam said it had been organic. They did a lot more harm than good, so I kept my mouth shut.

Exhausted from my trek through the sewers I decided to take a nap. I could think of nothing better than a good hour and a half of unconsciousness right now. I almost screamed when I pulled back the curtain, coming face to face with a rather disheveled looking Riley. Cue the adrenaline...again.

"Where's Buffy?" He half growled, face all twisted like it was an effort to just be standing.

"Not here," I said quickly.

"Where not here?" He pushed past me roughly, grabbing a weapon belt off the chair.

"Initiative," Anya grumbled, "And I'm not happy about it. She took my Xander."

No one had the time to get to him before he bolted. I didn't particularly care to, even if he looked about as bad as Xander did when he had syphilis. I wasn't out to do any favors to the guy who wanted to euthanize me. Anyways, I'd rather not take a nap with his presence looming over me. Good riddance.


My eyes flickered open, rather excited voices were coming from the other side of the sheet. Groaning, I pulled myself out of bed and staggered out into the main room of our little hideout. The gang was all back.

"Yeah, it was big! Like basketball player meets linebacker big," Xander said, plopping down on his arm chair.

"Crazy strong too." Buffy looked a little distracted, eyes all distant, "It was like it couldn't feel anything I threw at it."

"So you met Adam?" I asked, grabbing a pack of gushers out of the snack stash. Sounded a lot like him: big, in the Initiative. Hell, they might have gotten to skip introductions if Buffy hadn't run out the door before I could talk.

She frowned, "How…"

"Met him out in the woods earlier today," I shrugged, glaring down at the stubborn plastic package. I was playing it off like it was no big deal, mostly because I was angry. Maybe Spike was rubbing off on me. "Was gonna tell you about it, but you kinda didn't have time," I muttered, the bitterness seeping through into my voice. Perhaps I'd been a little too sharp because suddenly it got real quiet.

"Marley, can we talk?" Buffy asked.

"No," I muttered, "I don't have the time."

From the moment I stormed out of the basement I knew I was acting like a little kid, but you know what? Sometimes the odd childish temper tantrum can be healthy...except for the burning shame and guilt as you walk away and remember you actually have nothing better to do and nowhere to be. Couldn't go back there now though, so I just started walking.

It would be too easy to find me back home, Giles' house was locked, and I had no plans to go to school to catch the back half of physics. Spike's crypt would be empty, especially since I'd chased him off too, and being alone sounded real good right now. So I started the long walk across town to Restfield.


The sun was starting to set as I wandered through the headstones, quickly making my way towards the big stone crypt at the center of grave yard. I threw the door open, and slammed it shut with a growl of frustration before throwing myself face first onto the musty couch.

"I was gonna sit there Bird, but uh, help yourself."

I blinked. Spike?

"I am gonna want to sit somewhere though, Passions is about to come on."

"Spike?" I asked, looking up. Sure enough, clad in his tight black tee and holding a steaming mug of blood, there he was. "I thought you skipped town."

He shrugged, setting his snack on the coffee table, "Changed my mind." Large hands gripped me by the shoulders as he sat me up, and plopped down next to me. Feet up on the table, blood in hand, and tele on he finally looked over at me. "So what brings you to my 'empty' crypt, Bird? Xander's mold pit that unbearable?"

"Just needed some space," I said lamely, and kind of hoped he wouldn't press it.

He could be a nosey bastard when he wanted to be though, perceptive too. "They start ticking you off? Buffy's been a right bitch to you recently."

"She's not being a bitch," I defended her, though on some level I agreed, "I'm just...not a priority I guess."

Other than the cheesy theme music to Passions it was quiet for a moment. His eyes practically burned holes in my skin as they traveled from mine down towards my neck, before finally he looked back to the television. He took a slip of blood.

"You look a little pale."

"You don't exactly have good lighting," I commented, motioning to the rather dark and dank crypt.

"You smell pale," he corrected himself, "Blood flow isn't right. What happened?"

I shrugged, "Just ran into something out in the woods, shook me up a little."

He twisted to face me, "Did it hurt you?"

I shook my head, "No. I mean he could have if he wanted to, Buffy couldn't even stand up to him and she actually knows how to fight...he just talked to me."

Spike frowned, eyes not leaving my face. When had he started looking at me like this? I was doing my best to squash this crush not...well there went my heart beat. I knew he could hear it, and we weren't exactly in a high stress situation to excuse it either. His eyes flicked down to my chest, ever so briefly, and I kind of wished he was just checking out my boobs. Cause then I could just call him a creep instead of dealing with my actual feelings.

"You sure?" He asked, a hand going up towards my face. My heart started beating even faster as his fingertips just brushed my cheek, then, all too fast, his fist closed and he jumped off the couch. And here I was still trying to remember how to breath, that bastard didn't even have to.

He paced a little ways, and then turned.

"Punch me," he said, offering his cheek in my direction.

"What?" Talk about a change of mood.

"Punch me. Right in the face."

I stood uncertainly, fist half clenched as I tried to determine how serious he was being. I wouldn't exactly hurt him, but I was real worried about the safety of my own hand. Vampires were kind of hard. He started bouncing a little, his normal cocky self.

"C'mon, Bird. Can't learn to fight if you're too scared to hit."

"What, you're going to teach me to fight?"

"Well yeah," he said, "Anyone else gonna bother?"

"I don't think anyone else has the time," I said, stepping a little closer. Fist still held loosely by my side.

"Well that's a damn shame. Can't leave you to get eaten by Sunny Hell's beasties while you come to terms with your own hellishness. Now hit me," he half yelled, so with a little cry I swung my fist right into his face. He didn't even flinch, "You hit like a limp noodle," he said, his lips curling up into a smug smile.

"Fuck off," I grumbled, starting to turn around.

"What gonna give up cause I'm telling the -" he broke off as I swung back around with a right hook. It was sloppy, more of a flail than a punch, but it did the job well enough, "Bloody hell!" He cursed, holding his nose and bending over.

"Fuck!" I hissed, grabbing my hand, that as painful as I expected. "Better?" I asked, a little out of breath my self.

"Still a noodle," he said, straightening up with a grin on his face, "But not bad, Bird, not bad at all."

Well that's it for this chapter, I thought about making it a little longer, but the last scene I was going to do would fit in better with the next chapter so I'm just going to leave it off here. Hope the relationship is progressing well enough without being unrealistic or anything, and I hope y'all are enjoying.

I'd love to hear what y'all think, constructive criticism or praise (both make the writing go a little faster hahha)

Thanks for reading, and see y'all soon!