Willow stared at Giles as he slugged back another drink. She wanted to scream at him. He had shot Buffy with a crossbow, but she hadn't been changed.
"So, you didn't bother to check? You just shot her?" Willow planted her fists on her hips and cocked her head.
"It was instinct." Giles placed his glass on the counter carefully.
"Instinct?" Willow snarled. "You have got to be kidding me. It's Buffy. Rule number one is don't try to kill Buffy."
"Things are not quite that simple, Willow. She has been missing for days. She arrived wrapped in a leather duster, pale, and marked." Giles swallowed. "He hasn't turned her, but it is only a matter of time."
"You can't know that." Willow stamped her foot against the wood floor.
"Will, you need to listen to him." Xander said quietly from his place on the couch. "Buffy is dangerous. She's always played it too easy with the vamps and, now, she's paying for it."
"There you go, Xander, spouting off about Buffy and vampires." Willow glared at him. "Giles shot her. What if she was coming here for help? Did either of you think of her well being?"
Xander dropped his gaze to his lap, but Giles shook his head.
"You don't understand, Willow. She was willingly with that monster. She asked him not to kill me." Giles sighed.
"She asked him not to kill you after you shot her? And you didn't even ask her anything did you? You're her watcher. She thinks of you like a father." Willow's chin trembled as she fought the urge to cry. "I wish she'd let Spike hurt you."
"Willow!" Xander looked at her with a stupid shocked expression.
"She's my best friend." Willow grabbed her coat and bag. "She used to be yours, too."
Storming out felt good, but what was she supposed to do now? How was she going to find Buffy? She looked up at the stars, wrapped her hand around one of the vials of holy water in her pocket, and headed toward Oz's place.
Walsh glared around the trashed examination room. This was in no way acceptable. She kicked a piece of the metal door away and stared at the shattered machinery around the room. It would take weeks to repair it, but they had to recapture the subject first. Priorities. She sighed.
One of the fresh faced soldiers rushed into the room and stumbled, staring wide eyed at the wreckage. His obvious shock was mildly amusing.
"Report." She narrowed her gaze and the young man snapped to attention.
"Twenty seven wounded." He swallowed.
"She didn't kill any of them." She rubbed her chin.
"No, ma'am."
"Dismissed." She glared at the soldier as he left. He wouldn't last here, but he might be useful. She needed more men to act as bait. They needed to find other girls that would redact to the drugs like this one had. "Seems Parker needs a wingman."
Buffy shifted against the cool body next to hers. It hurt to breathe. She should have let Spike punch Giles for this. It was awful. She looked down at her chest and tried to figure out why he had plastered about forty cartoon covered bandaids to her chest. It looked like he'd put a whole box on her.
"You okay, Pet?" Spike stroked her shoulder and moved, spooning her closely.
"It hurts." She touched the rubbery mass attached to her skin.
"Yeah, can't imagine it feeling good." His fingers trailed along her side. "I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry for? I mean, you didn't do this. My watcher did." Buffy blinked back her tears.
"Let it go, Buffy. It's okay." He pulled her back and wrapped his body around her protectively.
Buffy took a deep, gasping breath. She trembled and quaked in his arms until her emotions swamped her. The tears were hot on her skin, and the shudders wracked both their bodies.
"Why did he do it?" She sobbed and turned over pressing her face against his chest. "Why did Giles shoot me?"
"He made a mistake. Thought I'd turned you." Spike kissed her hair. "It's all that bloody training. Wrecks them on some level. He'll come around, Pet"
He soothed her with smooth glides of his cool hands on her back. His gentleness was shocking. This demon that she'd trapped showed her more affection than anyone else ever had.
"Thank you, Spike." Buffy stroked his bare chest with the tips of her fingers and pushed back enough to look him. "You're being really great about all this."
"Made my choices, Pet." Spike smiled, but the melancholy moment was not lightened. "You're mine, Buffy. If he hurts you again, I will end him."
She stiffened against him. A vampire threatening humans was so something she was supposed to slay, but she couldn't hurt him. Guilt welled up inside her. How was she going to defend the world from the monster holding her?
"The bastard almost killed you, Buffy. Don't expect me to forgive him." Spike's eyes flashed from blue to gold.
"I don't. I'm not sure if I can forgive him. Why would I expect you to do it?" She bit her lip. "It's just what are we going to do? You're gonna need to feed. I can't turn a blind eye to that. You know I can't."
"The thought had occurred." Spike sighed. "I can't stand the pig swill, so don't ask."
"Well, what do you suggest then?"
"I can get by on bagged human blood. It's nasty and expensive, but quite a few of us have done it from time to time. It's not my first choice, but wouldn't know how to deal with a reality where I got my first choice anyway." He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
"What would be your first choice?" Buffy reached out and rested her hand on his smooth chest.
"Slayer blood. Everyday." He glanced over at her and smirked. "Not going to happen though."
"How much of my blood do you really need?" She looked own at her hand resting own his body. "I mean, it's better than regular, right?"
"Finest there is, Pet. Pure ambrosia, but I can not weaken you. You are not my damn food. You're my mate." He rolled toward her again and tucked her stray hairs behind her ears. "I will not hurt you."
"So, bag it and supplement." She touched her neck where he had bitten her. Her fingers caressed the ridges of the scar. "We could both enjoy it."
