Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
This chapter is based on the events of "Primeval".
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CH 20
They'd pulled it off. They'd bloody well pulled it off. Soddin' miracle, that. Almost thought it was all going to pot when Peaches showed up. Funny though, to see him and the soldier get into it. For all Angelus' big talk about Buffy needing normal he wasn't content to sit back and let her have it. Right hypocritical that, because the great git smelled far too much of the whelp's former to be keeping his hands to himself.
Not that the Slayer was much better. What was she thinking running up to L.A. like that? Especially with the way she sent the wanker packing back Thanksgiving. What happened to all her talk about phones and staying out of each others' lives? Talk about your mixed signals.
Bit was fit to be tied, muttering about stupid sisters who never learned. It pleased him to no end that she so clearly hated his grandsire. Knew the girl had good taste. As he recalled, Joyce wasn't Angelus' biggest fan either. It was only Buffy he'd managed to blind so thoroughly.
Still, the slayer'd not been too pleased to see the Great Git either. Sent him packing again fairly quick. For a moment Spike thought she was gonna send the toy soldier off too. And maybe she had, hadn't seen him around in a few days. Good thing that. Those two lunkheads were like to muck everything all up.
Adam was eating this "Yoko Factor" BS and the slayerettes were playing it up like right pros. Course it helped they weren't so much acting as they were being honest for once. Unresolved issues there, for sure. Lucky if that didn't blow up in their faces sooner or later.
Now all that was left was to keep up the ruse long enough for Buffy to get into the Initiative base and find Adam. Not too difficult, that, considering Spike was supposed to be leading her into the base anyway. Apparently that's where Patches wanted her. Bleedin' idiotic if anyone asked him, but it made this whole double agent gig a sight easier.
Her friends sneaking in? Now that was a touch trickier, but it wasn't his problem.
"Okay," Buffy said quietly from her place crouched beside him in the bushes. With her access to the Lowell House elevator revoked they were going to be sneaking in through the tunnel. Better that way, Spike considered. Let Patches feel he was in charge, make him less likely to go looking for trouble elsewhere. "We storm the Initiative, making just enough mess that Adam wants to watch the show. Hopefully he doesn't notice everybody else sneaking in through that old shaft, or crater, or whatever. Then you create a diversion so I can break off to find Adam. And then you double back to protect the others so they can make me super wicca-watcher-slayer and I pull out Adam's power core. You got that?"
She looked at him expectantly and he cocked his head.
"What?" she snapped.
"Nothing. Just, you do remember I was there for the making of this grand plan, yeah?"
"Just making sure you don't forget. Or get ideas."
He rolled his eyes. Bloody paranoid bint. Either she trusted her unknown informant or she didn't. He wished she'd stop with the back and forth – like to make a bloke seasick.
"Not getting ideas. Already told you, I'm in this for me, not you. Double crossing you won't help me a lick."
"I know," she said seriously. "That's why you're here."
"Ta," he sneered. Ever the soul of graciousness, his slayer.
They were quiet a few moments, staring at the cave entrance that held a very violent immediate future. Hopefully not a dead and dusty one though, if Bit was right.
"Still don't like it," he finally said. Never was good at keeping quiet and they couldn't head in until the Watcher gave Buffy the signal.
"You're still stuck on that?"
"Magic always has consequences."
"Yeah, well, unless you can think of another way for me to get past his rocket launchers and bust through his half-demon hide we don't have much of a choice."
Spike scowled down at the ground.
"No?" she asked. "That's what I thought."
"I'm just sayin' it's dangerous is all. Melding your brains like that. What if your bits don't all get put back right? You could end up with a thing for birds or – huh, well, birds, I guess."
"We're melding our essences, not our brains, and what the heck do birds have to do with it?"
He almost told her, but he wasn't in the mood to have his nose busted right at the mo'. "What I mean is you could wake up again with a craving for Cheetos."
"Cheetos?"
He curled his lip. "Come on, even you have to have noticed Harris always smells of cheese curls. Swear that's all the boy eats anymore."
She tried to glare at him, no doubt for insulting her friend, but in the end her lips couldn't keep from twitching defiantly upwards. Against his will his own mouth followed suit. A moment later he forced his facial muscles into a scowl. Not sharing a giggle with the Slayer.
There was a quiet buzz from the general area of the Slayer's bum. Walkie-talkie in her back pocket.
"There's the signal," she said.
He caught her wrist as she started to rise and she looked down at him part in irritation part in question.
"Best leave that here." He nodded toward the device.
"How will I find everyone after?"
From what he gathered she wouldn't be standing after, let alone tracking the rest of her lot down. "Imagine we'll have to be finding you if this spell takes it out of you as the Watcher expects. An' I won't need your little toy to do it."
"How—?"
He tapped his nose before she could finish the question and Buffy wrinkled her own in response.
"That's so gross."
"Useful though," he said, because it was. And she was the Slayer, for heaven's sake, what right did she have coming over all dainty?
She left the walkie-talkie though.
He grinned. Slayer taking orders from him? Priceless. Even if it wasn't so much taking orders as accepting his very sound advice. Still, she hadn't said no on principle, so that was something. Didn't want to be best pals, but if he couldn't have her fear it was nice to have a little respect.
Buffy cleared her throat and he turned his gaze to her. Her hands were propped on her hips and she was tapping one daintily clad foot. Seriously – who wore heels to go demon hunting? Maybe it was a girl-power thing.
"What?" he asked.
"Are you coming?"
"Oh, right." He pushed up to his feet and fell into step beside her. "Ready then?"
"As I'll ever be."
He took a deep breath and lengthened his strides to pull ahead of her. In another moment they'd be in range of Adam's cameras: time to put on a show.
"Now, just to be clear, I get the full five hundred once Patches is out of commission, yeah? There won't be any 'negotiating' down after the fact?"
"Shut up, Spike."
"I'm being serious here. The last time your watcher shorted me. For white hats you lot are awfully dishonest."
"Are you calling us liars? You're a vampire!"
"So what? You only make nice with the other white hats? Thought being a paragon of virtue was all about who you were inside, not who you're dealing with."
"Like you'd know anything about vir—"
Their half-scripted bickering came to a halt as they emerged into an open cave packed to the limit with soldiers and demons.
"Looks like the party started early," Spike mused.
"You think?"
The Slayer was already flowing into a fighting hold, stake clutched firmly in one hand, a dagger in the other. Woulda been nice to bring a sword or two, but as far as Adam knew the Slayer thought this was a bit of recie.
Not that Buffy needed a sword, he thought with admiration as he watched her take out half a dozen demons with a whirling kick. Bloody poetry in motion that girl. One good thing about this gig – gave him time to watch her work.
"A little help here?" the Slayer snapped.
He grinned and swung at an approaching demon. Adam could hardly complain if he enjoyed a little violence. Wanted to keep the body count up, didn't he?
A soldier flew through the air and landed hard against the opposite wall. Probably made a nice thud, that, but the sound was lost amidst the chaos of the underground chamber.
"I am so glad we had the others sneak in through the elevator shaft," the Slayer said as the fight brought them together again.
"Better hope Patches didn't hear you say that."
She shot him an incredulous look.
"Yeah, right," he agreed, moving back to back with her. A particularly ugly gray demon rushed them and he used the thing's momentum to send it smashing into several soldiers. "You reckon I should bugger off right about now? He's going to notice if we're playing tag team."
Behind him he heard the Slayer grunt in that way she did when she delivered a high kick. "Yeah," she said after a moment, not even out of breath. "The others should be in place now and who knows what the Colonel and his men are up to."
"You mean before or after they arrest your lot?"
She probably would have punched him if her fists hadn't been otherwise occupied. As it was he could almost hear her grit her teeth over the sounds of fighting all around them.
"Shut up."
"Jus' sayin'."
"Yeah, well don't." She stopped talking long enough to deliver a series of punishing blows to some poor sod. "You think we could work our way toward the other wall? I can see the door. That must lead to the hall Willow told us to look for."
Spike ducked a punch and peered around the girl. Single door in the far corner, just as Red said. Was supposed to open to a hall which would lead them both to their objectives.
"I take left, you take right?" he asked.
"Secret lab here I come," Buffy quipped.
Still back to back they began making their way across the room. Hopefully Patches was too caught up in analyzing this mess to notice Spike was helping the bint. Even if he wasn't it was too late for him to do anything about it now. Slayer knew where he was now and they were nearly to the door.
It got a little dicey closer to the door, where the demons had trapped many of the soldiers when they'd entered. Slayer was determined to down the soldiers without killing any of them. Bloody difficult way to go about it. He took quite a few hits even with the Slayer at his flank. At length they slipped through. Spike gripped the frame on the other side, twisting it together. When he was satisfied he turned to find the Slayer staring at him.
"What?" he asked.
"What was that?"
"That?" Spike patted the warped doorframe. "That's insurance. Better 'n a lock."
"Oh." She looked almost impressed. Well good, she should be.
"Right, well, if we're done with the inquisition I'll be off then."
"Off?" She sounded something between angry and panicked and Spike rolled him eyes.
"Yeah. This is the parting of ways innit? Me off to find the Slayerettes, you off to bash or be bashed? Stop me when something sounds familiar, pet."
Buffy shook her head. "Right. Off. To find the others." Her gaze narrowed into that familiar glare. "They'd better be alright when I get back."
He placed a hand to his unbeating heart. "'M touched by your faith, Slayer." He didn't wait around for her attempt at a witty response. They were running out of time and he knew who'd get the blame if this whole plan went to hell. He was nearly to the end of the hall and was mentally reviewing the route Willow had given him to reach them –left at the "T", right through the next intersection of halls, and then through the second door on the right– when something burst through the door to his left. He ducked and swung blindly, narrowly avoiding impact. As he turned he pulled his fist back, ready to deliver a solid uppercut across his attacker's jaw, but then he saw the thing's face and his body reacted without thought, pulling back.
The patchwork hybrid facing him had no such compunction. The thing, which appeared to be composed primarily of the body of one of the Initiative soldiers, landed a painful blow to his torso with a mechanically enhanced fist.
Spike cringed further into the wall, bringing his arms up to protect his head.
From down the hall he heard Buffy shout for him. Musta heard the noise and stopped. "Spike, what are you doing? Move!" she shouted.
He heard her, saw the thing heft what looked to be the leg off a metal chair, but he couldn't move. He knew he needed to strike back, but his body wouldn't do it.
Something slammed into him from behind, knocking him to the ground moments before he would have been impaled.
"Spike!" A blond blur moved past him and wrestled the chair leg out of the creature's hands where it fell to the floor with a resounding clank.
Slayer then. Right. His impact with the floor seemed to have returned control of Spike's body to his conscious mind and he picked up the makeshift weapon as it rolled toward him.
He'd nearly been run through. Quite literally. Not wood, so it wouldn't have killed him, but woulda hurt like hell.
Grappling with the hybrid beast, Buffy threw a half-glance back his way. "What is wrong with you?" she snapped.
Good question. He didn't know except that for a moment, just a moment, he'd been absolutely certain that he couldn't hit this bloke – that if he did it would cause him unbearable agony. His head ached with not-quite-remembered pain and he reached up to rub the spot on his skull where they'd cut him open to put the chip in. Except that hadn't ever happened. Bit had saved him just in the nick. And if what he'd just felt was even an echo of the pain the chip would have caused he needed to thank that girl properly next time he saw her.
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Buffy ducked an incoming blow, trying to look over her shoulder to see what Spike was doing at the same time. She half expected to see him back on his feet, fangs approaching her throat, but from what she could tell he was still on the floor.
Great. Spike was still out of it and she was going to have to kill Forrest all on her own.
Oh God, she was going to have to kill him.
Her stomach roiled at the realization.
He'd never been very nice to her, but he was human and he was one of Riley's friends, and now she was going to have to kill him.
Which was going to be more of a problem than she would have thought, if that last punch he'd landed was any indication. How the hell had Adam managed to amp the former commando's strength so much?
He aimed another punch and she ducked beneath it, spinning around to his side in an effort to get a jab in at an unprotected area. Forrest turned with her and in moments he'd managed to spin them fully around so that Buffy was away from Spike. Not that she was expecting much help from that quarter at this point. She didn't know what the hell was wrong with the bleached-blond, but it seemed he was down for the count at this point.
Forrest grinned. "Been waiting for an excuse to end you, bitch."
Great, he could still speak. And he still hated her. Lovely. Though if he kept this up she might not be so reluctant to kill him. With Spike still sprawled on the floor behind them Forrest turned his full attention to Buffy and she found herself backing up slowly.
"Forrest, um, look." She'd never been much good at talking her way out of this kind of situation, but it couldn't hurt to try, right? "I know we're not exactly the best of friends, but is this really necessary? We're on the same side, right?"
"I'm on my own side," Forrest sneered. "And Adam says you need to die."
Okay, so clearly Adam had done some reprogramming beyond physical upgrades.
"I'm pretty sure that makes you on Adam's side, not your own."
"Shut up!" Forrest growled.
Buffy stumbled back, but he managed to grab her wrist and swing her hard against the metal wall of the hall. She slumped to the floor, head pounding, and tried to scuttle back toward the opening into the next hall. Unfortunately with the new pain in her head she didn't get very far. In a moment booted feet were framing her field of vision and Forrest leaned down with a sick smile.
"Say good night, Buffy."
She braced herself for the coming blow, prepared to block or duck or something, only it never came. Instead there was a sickening squelch followed by a sharp crack and then Forrest was slumping forward to reveal a panting master vampire behind him, metal chair leg in one hand, a sparking electric cable in the other.
Spike. Spike had killed him.
"You okay?" the vampire asked between ragged gulps of air. Why was he panting? He didn't even need to breathe.
And Spike had just saved her life. She'd saved his first, but still. And she supposed that laid to rest the thought she'd had a moment before that maybe this was a triple-cross and Spike was going to hand her over to Adam after all. Although, that idea probably should have been considered disproven the moment Forrest tried to shishkabob the vampire. Unless it was a quadruple cross and Adam was betraying Spike too. Or maybe that was a double-double cross? Or would it be a double-triple cross?
Okay, so not important right now.
"Spike?" she asked.
He extended a hand down toward her and she took it without thought, allowing him to pull her to her feet. He didn't release her after, which was probably good considering how the room was spinning.
"Told you you shouldn't'a let Patches snatch any of your boy's friends up," Spike said. "'Specially not that one. Talk about an irrational grudge."
Buffy rubbed at her temples, trying to ease away the pulsing ache. Fortunately, the pain was already fading, though she was sure she'd have a dull ache for a while even with slayer healing.
"I tried to stop him. But Forrest is stupid. He doesn't listen to me. And anyway, you didn't tell us about the body snatching/re-animation thing until after Adam snatched Forrest. So really, whose fault is it?"
Spike growled. "Not exactly working with a bloody road map here, Slayer. Told you what I knew soon as I knew it. Not my fault information's been slow of late. Case it hasn't occurred to you, helping out your lot hasn't exactly enhanced my popularity in demon circles."
Huh, she hadn't actually thought of that. Made sense though. And speaking of demon circles . . .
"Uh, Spike?" She looked toward the T-crossing at the end of the hall.
He followed her gaze and nodded. "On it," he said, releasing her from his steadying hold slowly. He waited to be sure she could stand on her own and then he jerked his chin toward the far end of the hall. "I got this Slayer, you'd best get on your way before Patches figures out what's what." She stared at him blankly, still having some difficulty focusing. "Go. Now," he barked, already slipping around the corner to go find her friends.
And she went. Even though he was her former enemy, even though she didn't really trust him, even though she had a hundred questions about the last twenty seconds, she went. Because he was right. They had to go. Now. Before Adam had time to move and they lost any hope of finding him again.
Okay. So according to Willow the secret lab where Adam was holing up was right behind room 314. From the looks of things all the locks were out down here, so she shouldn't have trouble getting into 314 and then it was a short crawl through the air duct and down the hatch to reach Adam. Piece of cake.
A few short turns had her at the door of 314. A swift kick took care of the grate over the ventilation shaft and then she was inside. The ducts let out in an empty room (though calling it a room was generous –it was approximately the size of a shoe box, only taller) and she was confused for a moment. But then her foot struck on something and she bent over to discover a hatch. It took some serious contortions to get the hatch open, but once she did dim light filtered up into the space and she could see a ladder leading down into a cavern. She could hear the distinct hum of electronics below.
Bingo. Secret lab.
Partway down she realized Riley was sitting in a chair in the chamber. Okay, well, that explained where he'd been the last few days. Except really not, because why would Riley be with Adam?
"Riley?" she asked, hopping down to the floor and approaching him cautiously. It didn't look like anyone else was here, but she knew Adam had to be around somewhere. "Are you hurt?"
Riley didn't answer. Actually he didn't even look at her. Didn't flinch. It was like he wasn't even in there. Which might explain why he wasn't even tied up.
"Say something!" she prodded, worried now.
He didn't have any demon parts or mechanical junk like Forrest had, but something was clearly wrong. A shuffling sound alerted her to new arrivals and she whirled to find Professor Walsh and Dr. Engleman entering through a side door. Or what was left of them.
"What is this?" She looked to Riley again, because she wouldn't trust Walsh even if the woman didn't look like a bonafide zombie at the moment, but Riley was still unresponsive.
"Why won't you talk to me?"
"He can't," a familiar and unwelcome voice said from behind her. "He hasn't been programmed to," Adam continued, clearly unperturbed by her presence. And why shouldn't he be? The last two times they'd met he wiped the floor with her. "He's part of the final phase now. As you were supposed to be."
Spike had been right about that at least. Creepo wanted to use her in his little experiment. So not in her five year plan. "Sorry, I don't jump through hoops on command. I've never really been one to toe the line." She preferred to go her own way, as far from the line as possible.
Adam considered her a moment. "Oh," he said. Then he turned to his zombie scientist. "Kill her."
Right. Like these two were going to be much of a challenge? Unlike Forrest they didn't seem to be at full mental capacity, brainwashed or otherwise. It kinda looked like the tubes in their backs were feeding some sort of fluid into them. Maybe they really were zombies? Half machine zombies. Creepy. At any rate, it wasn't going to be too difficult to get past them if all they could do was shuffle around like that.
Of course once she got through them she had to deal with Adam and it occurred to her that she didn't feel mojo'd up yet. The gang was supposed to start as soon as Spike got to them and Giles said the spell would only take five minutes.
Oh God, Spike better have made it. Her friends better have made it. Because if that spell didn't happen like, now, she was gonna be so much Buffy jelly on the bottom of this thing's ugly boots.
Maybe she should take her time with the zombies?
Fortunately Zombie Doc 1 and Zombie Doc 2 weren't quite the lightweights they appeared to be. Sure they were slow and lumbering, but they could take a punch. It probably helped that they were already dead. Like, dead, dead. Clearly Adam had only wired them for basic motor functions, because they didn't so much as flinch when she landed a blow.
Unfortunately she could only stall so long. Especially when her opponents weren't so much opponents as they were mobile barricades.
"Enough," Adam said. "Mother always did say good help is hard to find. I believe I understand the phrase now."
Crap, he was heading toward her and she still wasn't super Buffy.
"No!" she yelped, ducking a slow incoming zombie arm. She deliberately allowed it to graze her shoulder. "No, seriously. These guys are doing great. I'm really feeling the burn."
"The vampire has betrayed me."
"Oh, that." Technically Spike hadn't betrayed Adam because he'd never been on Adam's side, but now was probably not the time to bring that up. And did that mean Spike was still out there? Adam wouldn't be worried if the British vampire was dust, would he? Buffy shrugged carelessly. "He's a vampire. They do that."
"Not to you."
She laughed. "Oh, trust me, they do it to me all the time." She considered her statement. "Well, not all the time, because I don't give most of them the chance, but trust me when I tell you I have personal experience being betrayed by vampires."
"Perhaps this one has betrayed you now."
Her head jerked toward him and something scratched her arm. Crap, Zombie Walsh had a syringe? She did not have time to deal with this. "What do you mean?"
Adam looked around and extended his arms mechanically. "He is not here with you. He is arguing with soldiers in a hall some distance from here. He has abandoned you."
Buffy almost slumped with relief. Spike made it, he was with the others, and he'd been right about the arrest thing. Damn it, she was never gonna live that down.
"I will have to finish you myself."
Crap. Well, she knew the others were okay so all she could do was pray the spell kicked in before Adam pulverized her.
"Bring it," she said. And then she charged him.
Adam punched her with a casual ease no half robot should possess. Buffy rebounded and rose as he approached. A swift kick to the sternum didn't even faze him so she concentrated a volley of punches on his face. He was part mechanical, but he still needed his brain, right? Maybe if she jarred it enough he'd go down long enough for the spell to kick in. Suddenly she was crashing into a wall and she barely recovered in time to snap his polgara skewer before he could run her through.
"Broke your arm," she snarked.
"Got another," Adam said. And then, from the top of his forearm, emerged what looked like a miniature machine gun.
Crap, crap, crap.
She dove for cover. It had to have been five minutes! Where was her mojo?
A console exploded to her right. She peeked around her makeshift barricade and was forced to pull back. Could she crawl over to the desk without getting hit? And then what did she do? This room wasn't all that big and Adam obviously had no qualms destroying everything in it to get to her.
And then it was there. The magic. She could feel it pooling inside her. And then she couldn't because there was no 'she' anymore. There were only them. Four people, a single entity. And they were strong, so much stronger than any one alone.
The tide of battle turned in the blink of an eye. Even Adam's rocket launcher was useless against their magic. A swift kick and he was fallen before them. They reached for his power source –the uranium core in his chest– and Adam was finished. A small chant took care of the power core, snuffing it out of existence, and it was over. They had won.
The next thing Buffy knew she was waking up on the floor alone. Only she was only alone on the inside. Above her, familiar blue eyes were staring down into hers.
"Riley?" she asked, her voice as weak as she felt. Man, that mojo really took it out of a girl.
The vampire hovering over her disappeared from her line of sight and she was too tired to move her head to follow his journey. There was a faint rustling nearby and then a thunk.
"Found him. What's wrong with him?" Spike was back over her, but Riley wasn't with him.
She struggled to remember. What had Adam said? Something about a final phase. "Adam did something to him."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Obviously."
"Doctor," Buffy insisted weakly.
"Yeah," Spike agreed. He cast a quick glance toward her unresponsive boyfriend. "An army doctor. May as well leave him here, pet. Nothing we can do for him."
Buffy debated internally. It was so hard to think; her brain wouldn't focus. Finally she shook her head – or she tried to, she wasn't one hundred percent sure it cooperated.
"Not here," she said. "Not on the map. They won't find him."
"Fine. Someplace else, but still in the base, yeah?"
"Demons," she protested.
Spike sighed. "His room then? Up above in the frat house? Think I saw one of his friends was still around. The decent one."
Graham? He was still okay? Buffy relaxed. Riley would be safe with Graham. She nodded as her eyes slipped closed.
"Right," Spike said. Then he moved to kneel beside her.
She could feel him. "What?" she asked. He was supposed to be with Riley now.
"Gonna get you out of here, Slayer."
She opened her eyes and gripped the wrist that reached for her and shook her head. "Riley first."
Spike scowled. "Oh, for the love of— fine. The worthless idiot first." Spike rose and stomped across the room. A moment later he was back with Riley over one shoulder. "But this is a quick trip, yeah? I take him to the other soldier or his room, whichever I get to first, and then I'm right back."
Buffy leaned back against the floor. He seemed to take that as agreement because he left. She half dozed in the time between his leaving and his return, having no concept of the passing of time.
"Buffy?"
She opened her eyes to find Spike crouched beside her. "My friends?" she asked. They were supposed to be with Spike, which meant they should be here, but she couldn't see them or hear them.
"Bloody hell, Slayer! Can we settle one thing at a time?"
"Where are they?" she insisted, struggling to lift her head and search for them. He reached down to support her seemingly without thought and she didn't comment. Her friends were nowhere to be seen. "Where are they, Spike?" Adam might be gone, but that didn't mean the bloodbath in the labs was over. It was still dangerous out there.
Propped against him as she was she could feel him sigh. "They're safe, Slayer. Just not in any condition to go rooting through all this chaos for passed-out slayers."
She pushed off from him, adrenaline lending her a bit of strength. Her eyes narrowed in a hard glare. "I should have known we couldn't trust you. What did you do to them?"
He rolled his eyes. "Really? That's your first thought? Come off it, Slayer, I'm on your side – for now."
"Then where are they?"
"Where do you think they are, Slayer? You passed out. You. The Slayer. What d'you think a spell like that does to your average human being, hmmm? Told you there would be consequences, but you lot didn't care." His voice had risen to a shout, but now dropped to a mutter.
In her weakened state she only just made out something about white hats and not thinking things through. That was rich coming from him.
She must have said that out loud because suddenly he was scowling back down at her.
"I think things through, Slayer, just generally don't care enough about the consequences to avoid them. Doesn't mean I don't investigate them first though."
She was too tired to argue with him, so she closed her eyes and laid her head back down on the cool ground. Naptime.
Cool hands slid beneath her form and she panicked. "What are you doing?"
"Wha's it look like, Slayer? Gonna carry your sorry arse out of here."
He kept calling her that. It was weird. Not that he didn't call her that sometimes, but usually he sprinkled in a few more general terms. Pet. Luv. Those British non-endearment endearments he loved to throw at anything female, because heaven forbid he use anyone's actual name.
"Unless you'd rather the filthy vampire not touch you?" he continued. "'S a mess out there, but if you'd rather crawl through blood and bodies be my guest."
Okay, yeah, he had a point. There was no way she could walk right now, she probably couldn't even crawl, so Master-Vampire-Express was really her only option if she didn't want to stay down in this cave. That didn't make her any more eager to be cradled to his chest.
Reluctantly she nodded.
It was seriously surreal for a moment, being held in Spike's arms. Certainly not something they'd either one ever expected. He probably would have dusted himself at the very thought two years ago. She would have helped. The very thought would have disgusted them both. But now she felt mostly . . . safe. Which would probably frighten her once she had enough energy.
Spike took the journey from the cave to the upper level in one graceful leap. The air ducts were a little less smooth, but after that he fell into an easy, even gait. With her eyes closed it was hard to recall the floors were most likely littered in bodies. The gentle rocking of his movements soon had her drifting toward sleep and she welcomed it. The last conscious thought she had was that Spike smelled good. Who ever heard of a vampire that smelled good?
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Dawn paced the length of Spike's crypt, gnawing at her bottom lip all the while. God, what was taking them so long? Shouldn't they be done by now? It didn't take this long last time, did it? What if something happened to them? Sure, they'd all made it through last time relatively unscathed, but maybe she'd done something without realizing it. Maybe it was that butterfly effect thing. Maybe she'd kicked a rock going from her apartment to the grocery store and some solider posing as a frat boy tripped over it and got a concussion, putting him out of the fight, and because he wasn't there everyone was going to die! That happened, right? Or it could. Buffy could be dead or Spike dust and it would be all her fault!
Oh, God, she was such an idiot! Spike was right all along, messing with time was a dangerous, dangerous thing. Maybe she could go forward and tell herself not to do it? Would that fix things or make them worse? Or maybe it wouldn't do anything. If she went forward and told herself not to come back then she wouldn't be back to tell herself not to go, so then she'd go. That's how paradoxes worked, right? Well, anyway, that's how Andrew had explained it to her late one night over a half dozen episodes of Star Trek. And how tragic was that? They were all going to die because she didn't have a solid understanding of Star Trek.
The door creaked open and Dawn threw herself at the black-clad form before he was even fully inside.
"Spike! You're not dust." She hugged him fiercely. Oh, thank God. They were alright. She'd been worried for nothing. She buried her face in his chest and breathed him in. He smelled like leather and smoke and blood, but somehow the scent still comforted her. This was Spike and Spike-smell had long equated to safety in her mind. Though the blood smell was a little stronger than normal – probably because he'd just kicked demon ass.
It took her a moment to realize that Spike was plucking at her arms, trying to disentangle them. She gripped him tighter and he grunted. Gently his fingers pried hers from his body and he pushed her away.
Dawn frowned. Why couldn't she hug him? He wasn't having another "evil-demon" crisis of un-conscience was he? Because she was seriously tired of his insistence that he was only playing at hero for the sake of his own unlife.
She opened her mouth to snap at him, but then she noticed the awkward angle of his torso and the cut on his cheek. She frowned, eyes tracing down his battered form.
"You're hurt," she said and then winced. Like that wasn't completely obvious?
"Bit banged up is all. Spot of blood and I'll be right as rain."
Dawn's frown darkened. "I'll get it, you sit."
"Not a bloody invalid," he protested.
"Sit," she commanded, doing her best imitate both Spike's classic arrogant snarl and her sister's patented slayer look at the same time. She must have got it somewhat right because Spike sat abruptly. She nodded primly. As she started some blood to heat she turned to him. "Where's your first aid kit?"
"Don't need you to fuss—"
"Where?" she cut him off sharply. Still scowling, he pointed to the left. Dawn ducked to look under the makeshift counter and pushed aside some trash bags to reveal a banged up first aid kit. By the time she'd determined it had the necessary basics, the blood was ready and she grabbed it for him on her way by.
He accepted the mug wordlessly and watched her over the rim while he drank.
"What're you doin'?" he asked once he'd finished off his blood.
"Cleaning you up."
"Don't get infection."
"I know." She sighed. "Just – let me do this, okay?"
Spike studied her a moment and then he nodded stiffly. He leaned back in the chair, clearly exhausted. He was trying to watch her work, but his eyes kept fluttering shut against his will. He grunted in annoyance.
"Relax," she murmured. "I've got this."
He let out a tired snort. "Yeah, like I trust you with that needle. 'S not like I even need stitches."
She rolled her eyes. "You don't even have a needle in here. These are tweezers. You've got glass in your shin I think. And I know better than to give a vamp stitches. Skin heals too fast. I've got butterfly bandages."
"Oh."
She smiled. "Yeah. Oh. You think this is the first time I've done this?"
"Guess not. Still don't need it though."
She ducked her head as her smile widened. He could protest all he wanted, but she'd seen that warm spark of awe in his eyes as he watched her. He was enjoying having someone take care of him for once. She didn't call him on it though. Just this once she let him enjoy it.
She pulled all the glass out of his leg and wiped it down with antiseptic. When she glanced up again Spike's eyes were closed, but he was still breathing, so he wasn't asleep.
"You want more blood?" she asked.
"Please."
She rose and heated another mug of blood, which he drank a little more slowly than the last. She worked as he drank, careful to keep away from the worst areas so he wouldn't jerk and spill.
"What happened?" she finally asked.
He set his mug down on the end table. "Had a run-in with the Colonel. He was trying to arrest your sister's lot. Knew that was gonna happen, but did they listen to me? No."
"A human did all this?"
Spike looked down and then shrugged. "Thought you jus' meant the glass. The rest is from demons mostly. And the toy-soldier's mate. Big, stupid, angry git. The bald one."
Dawn struggled to remember the name of Riley's team members. She hadn't really spent much time with them. "Forrest?"
"Maybe. Anyway, Adam used him as a test run. Stronger than normal. And then I had to get everyone out with all those soldiers and demons still running amuck. Hard to fight one-handed while protecting baggage."
Dawn's eyes widened and her hand fell away from the cut she was washing. "You had to carry them?"
"Spell really took it out of them."
Dawn shook her head and pressed the antiseptic wipe back against the gash on his arm. The blood was already doing its work. Most of his smaller scrapes and cuts were completely healed and his voice was getting stronger.
"And then she made me go back in," he said.
"What?"
Spike shifted in the chair, sitting up. There was an odd scraping sound and then he sighed in relief. It was only when his hand rose to drift along his torso that she realized his ribs had just reset. Spike looked much more comfortable after that.
He continued his story. "I got her out to the place I'd piled her silly friends and she insisted I go back in. Some rot about organizing soldiers and opening the exits. Told her the bloke -the one I left her boy with, the one that isn't so bad- told her he was taking care of all that, but she wouldn't let it go. Finally had to go in and bust a few doors down just to keep her quiet."
Dawn suppressed a grin, knowing full well Buffy hadn't been in any condition to make Spike do anything.
"Decent brawling though, once I didn't have any hangers on in my way. Took out some demons even I've never seen before. Was this one guy," he raised his hand to hold it almost full arm's length over his head, "this big, with horns and two tails. Used 'em like whips." He grinned. "That was fun."
She shook her head and leaned up to place a couple butterfly bandages over the cut on his cheek. It probably wasn't necessary at this point, but she knew how vain he was. The scar on his eyebrow was a badge of honor; any other mar on his face was unacceptable.
"And everyone got home alright?" she asked.
"Yeah, yeah. Even the toy soldier's gonna be fine, or so I gather. Initiative Doctors will fix him right up."
Dawn paused in her ministration. "I thought they'd branded him a traitor?"
"Yeah, well, extenuating circumstances or summat. Apparently Patches had some sort of hold over him. Plus, Slayer helped clean up their mess. If she's not the enemy then helping her wasn't treason."
"I guess not." She wondered if Riley would have to leave then, like Graham, or if he'd still quit and stay. If she remembered right he'd been offered a position the first time around and chose not to take it. He'd probably do the same thing again. She wouldn't stop him either way. Though, now that the moment had arrived she found herself thinking that his leaving might be for the best. She still hadn't figured out how to make the inevitable break-up easier on Buffy. Because it was inevitable. Even if she was able to keep him out of the bite house (and she so was), Buffy still didn't love Riley and he knew it. Eventually one of them would end it. They were both too honest to live that kind of farce forever.
"Oi, all finished here?" Spike asked. "'Cause I'm more n' a bit knackered. So unless you need a chaperon for your little mental excursion I think I'm gonna get some kip."
Dawn flushed. She would have hit him if he hadn't been so banged up. "Oh, shut up," she said. She packed away the kit and rose to her feet. "You're done. Get some sleep Mr. Grumpypants."
He must have been really tired, because he didn't even quip back.
"Ta," he said. And then he tilted his head back in the chair and he was out like a light.
Dawn smiled at the oddly appropriate imagery the phrase conjured and made an effort to move more quietly as she finished cleaning up. She checked his blood supply and realized he was out of the hospital stuff. He'd heal a lot faster if he had some human in his system, she knew. After a moment of hesitation Dawn slipped into her jacket and out into the night. It had been a while since she had to make the hospital blood run. She hadn't stepped foot in the place since Spike had last come off house arrest. It was late, so there wouldn't be much staff around. Easy to slip in and slip out without being noticed, especially with her nimble fingers.
Pulling her jacket more tightly around her, she picked up her pace wondering if she could manage a peak at the hospital staff registry while she was there. Surely Ben would be moving to town soon, right?
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A/N: Father's day weekend and my brother came home from college and I still managed to get a chapter out this weekend. Go me. And . . . it's almost time for part II, where canon mostly goes bye-bye. Hope you're looking forward to it.
Thanks for reading,
reenas-as