Chapter 17 – Sunday, Standard Reality
As he returned to Buffy's in the early hours of the morning, Spike thought about what he had learned. As he watched, more people had been brought in. The pens now seemed full. There was obviously some sort of rota in place, as some pens were visited by the vampires in white coats so that blood could be drained from the occupants. Others were left alone. He could feel the waves of fear and despair from the occupants. There had been a time when those feelings would have excited him. Now when he looked at those poor souls, he only saw Buffy. "What was it," he wondered, "about humans? You fall in love with one, and the rest of the species gets in on the act. I can't help but care about the rest of them. And it's going to get me into a whole lot of trouble."
Xander had been out late too. He had spent some time going round the local demon haunts. He just hoped he was recognised as a friend of the Slayer, because he knew most of the patrons could do him some serious damage. He had been lucky. He'd even heard some news. Willy had had some recent arrivals in earlier. They were drunk and boasted that their master had come to take over Sunnydale. Then they said that other local vampires were joining their cause and described Spike well. They said he'd come to deliver the Slayer.
Xander went home feeling both sick and triumphant at the same time. He had always known that Spike was only biding his time, waiting for the right opportunity. Now he knew he was right.
Buffy heard Spike come back in. She hadn't slept much all night and she was very relieved to see him. He wouldn't have known that from his greeting, though. She sat up in bed watching him undress with a face which showed her anger very clearly. When he tried to get in beside her, she pushed him away, finally losing control of her anger. He hit the wall and she moved towards him.
"What did you think you were doing? I thought you were gone forever. Or in that sunroom. How could you do that to me?"
Each sentence was punctuated with a punch to any part of him she could reach. Even after she stopped berating him, she continued punching. Spike's only reaction was to defend himself. As the punches became more and more feeble, he saw her eyes fill with tears. He wondered how he could ever have thought her having human friends could change her feelings for him. He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. He eased them both into bed and held her tight as she cried out her relief. When the tears stopped, she kissed him, wanting him all the more because she had feared him lost.
It was some time later when they spoke about what he had found. "No lamp, yet, pet. Didn't see that. So I've got to go back tonight. I saw the stock pens. There're hundreds down there. They're going to start their breeding programme soon. Even planning on using chemicals to make sure they've got no problems with shagging. It's awful." His face was bleak as he remembered.
"They've got them all partly sedated, so it's eerily quiet, but they're scared. You can feel their fear. The pens're in the basement, and the communal parts are at ground level. Above is where the private quarters are. Thing is, it's worse than I thought. He wants you. He wants to turn you, and six other Slayers. Sounds like he's made some sort of deal. Seven's a kind of mystical number. Whatever he's doing, it's worse that turning you and six others. He's on some sort of timetable, though, he wants you taken within the week. I've told him I can deliver you. It's the only thing I could think of, the only thing that'd give me an in." He paused, looking into her eyes, suddenly unsure. "You know I'd never hurt you?"
This last was a question. He needed reassurance that she understood. Buffy smiled as she disentangled herself from him so she could see his face better. She knew. He'd had so many opportunities to hurt her, and each time he had brought her nothing but joy.
Xander was at Buffy's bright and early the next morning with his news. So early, in fact that everyone in the house was still in bed when he arrived. Dawn got to the door first, surprised to see him. He told her he had to speak to Buffy right away, and Dawn went to get her sister.
Five minutes later, Buffy came downstairs, closely followed by Willow who had overheard Dawn calling Buffy. Both had thrown on some clothes, and quickly dragged brushes through their hair. They thought it must be important for Xander to disturb them so early. He was sitting on the edge of his chair when they came into the lounge, eagerly waiting to pass on his information. He had promised himself he would be sensitive to Buffy's feelings, but when the time came, he failed dismally.
"I was right," he began. Buffy didn't immediately understand what he meant, but Willow did.
"You mean you found out what Spike was doing?" she asked.
"Exactly," Xander went on. "I spoke to Willy. He's had some of the newcomers in recently. He heard them boasting that Spike was going to hand the Slayer over to their master." He turned to Buffy. "I know this must be a shock to you, but…"
Buffy looked quite calm. "It isn't," she told him.
At that instant, Spike came in, his shirt unbuttoned. He had tried to sleep, but in the end, curiosity overcame him. He'd overheard Xander from the hallway. As he entered, Xander jumped out, whipping a stake from one pocket and a bottle, which Spike assumed held Holy Water, from the other.
"He's back!" Xander spluttered. "Of all the nerve. You're not welcome here any more. I know what you've been up to. I know what you've promised."
Spike smiled. It was a smile Buffy knew well, although she hadn't seen it for a while. "Buffy knows exactly what I've been up to," he walked closer to Xander as he spoke. "I told her everything."
Xander had opened the bottle and seemed to be planning to throw it, when Buffy's words filtered through.
"Y..you know?" he looked confused.
"Yeah," Spike was now close enough to Xander to touch him. "I told you. I told her. It was the only way I could get in there and still get out to give you the information. I told Buffy when I got back."
Xander flopped back on the chair, as if suddenly deflated. He looked at Willow for support.
She decided to stick to business. "What did you find out, then?" Spike told them, and waited for a reaction.
"So," Xander persisted, "when have you agreed to hand Buffy over to Dominic? Or are you keeping that quiet?"
"There isn't a plan, yet, and it won't go that far. Once I can get the lamp, I won't go back. But, I need to go back tonight."
It was obvious that Xander wasn't convinced. It was equally obvious that Buffy was. He made one last attempt to convince his friend.
"He'll hand you over. I know he will. He doesn't love you – he can't. Our Buffy knew that. I don't know why you can't see it."
He looked sad. He honestly felt as if he was trying to stop her from dying, and it broke his heart that he had to. Willow gave nothing away.
As he walked towards the door, Willow joined him. "Can you come round later?" he asked her.
She nodded her answer. In truth she hadn't decided whether she believed Spike or not.
Sarah was awake. Well, it was daytime, that's what humans did. She'd been moved the day after she arrived. She didn't know why, but she hadn't had to give blood again since she was moved. There were only women and girls in this area. She was among the youngest, but they were all scared. They had been given an injection that morning, and the desperation in the pen had risen all day. She didn't know any of the other women in her pen or those surrounding hers.
She thought back to the previous night. There had been someone shown around. There was something different about him, but she couldn't put her finger on what exactly. All the others she saw were either 'doctors' or they looked at the captives as nothing so much as a herd of animals. She realised what the difference was. The one she saw last night, the one dressed in black, had made eye contact with her. He had acknowledged something in her the others never did. She didn't know why, but she knew he could be trusted.
Spike had gone back to bed. He knew he had to be rested for later, and he had to think. The sooner he could get what they needed, the safer Buffy would be, and for him, that was the priority.
Buffy had decided to spend the day checking out the warehouse. She was hoping she could spot something in daylight she hadn't seen in the dark. She felt physically sick when she thought of Spike having to go back there tonight, and any advantage she could give him would be a bonus.
The main entrance seemed deserted. Out of curiosity, she tried the door and found it unlocked. Leaving the doorway, she started to walk around its perimeter looking for anything that might be useful. She had reached the fence around the loading bay, and scaled it easily. Checking the area, she was glad to see there were no cameras. She spotted what looked like a ventilation grill. Judging by its height, it must be somewhere between the basement and ground floors. Hoping that the bright sunlight outside would keep her safe, she approached looking for a way to remove it. Ideally, it would take a screwdriver, but she didn't normally carry one of those. She checked her handbag and found a metal nailfile. She had always wondered why they were always part of nail care sets when everyone she knew used emery board to file their nails.
She tried it and it worked. Soon she had undone all the screws and she pulled out the cover. Listening carefully, every sense extended, she paused. When she was as sure as she could be, she clambered into the shaft. She crawled along, as quietly as she could. It was a tight fit. She shuffled forward, the direction downwards, thanking her other self for her dress sense. The jeans she was wearing were so much more suitable for this than anything she herself routinely wore. Reaching another grill, she peered through. She could just make out an area the other side. The other grill was just outside one of the pens. She could see the occupants of the pen, apparently drowsing. Remembering what Spike had told her, she assumed it was a result of their sedation.
Checking the grill, she noted this one didn't seem to be held in place by screws. Pushing at it gently, it moved, and Buffy froze, suddenly afraid she had been heard. When she was sure there was no apparent reaction from inside, she pushed a little further. The grill must now be sitting proud of its fitting, but still seemed secure. She didn't know if it would help, but it might provide an emergency exit. To mark it, she found a piece of paper in her pocket and pushed it into the grill.
Continuing her shuffle through the shaft, she found a further three such grills. They were all designed in the same way, and each time, she pushed it a little, and put some paper in the grill. Satisfied she could do no more there, she backed through the shaft. Once outside, she replaced the grill, but didn't fasten the screws completely. She hoped it wouldn't be necessary for Spike to come out that way, especially as it was such a tight fit for her. He might not be able to fit at all.
Continuing her search of the loading bay, she found the fire escape ladder. It led to the roof. Again, glad of the sunshine, she climbed to the top. There was one doorway there, apparently leading up some stairs from the upper floor. She didn't get too close, as she saw shadows passing the glass door and assumed that this close to the master's quarters, there would be guards. Climbing back to the ground, she found nothing else that seemed of value. She had hoped for more.
Willow arrived at Xander's later to find her friend pacing. Anya told her he'd been doing it since he came back. Taking a seat, Willow was relieved when Xander also sat, although again on the edge of his seat.
"So, you believe me, don't you? You know we've got to save Buffy from herself."
Willow looked grim. "I'm not sure," she started. "You may be right, but Buffy's convinced too. She's been with Spike a long time. I can't help thinking he wouldn't have stayed if he didn't really care. But, I know, he hasn't got a soul, and …."
"Even if you're not convinced, we can't take the chance. We can't give him the opportunity to prove me right. Don't you see, we've got to assume I'm right, until he can prove me wrong?"
"Ok, you're right." Willow didn't sound happy. "How come I feel I'm betraying my friend even saying that? But what can we do?"
"We can bring the whole thing forward a bit," Xander told her. "I need you to give me something that'll let me in there without being spotted. I'll get the lamp and get out. I've got some explosive set aside already. If we can get the people out, we can blow the place up."
Willow was worried. She knew a spell which might have the effect he wanted. It would certainly make him invisible, but it wouldn't mask his smell. But she wasn't doing magic, and Tara couldn't do this one. It was too complex, and relied too heavily on dark forces she knew Tara avoided. Looking at Xander's hopeful face, she realised she had to do it. If she didn't, in his current state, he'd try it without her help, and that would be certain disaster.
"Ok," she said, "but you've got to be careful. The spell will make you invisible, but they'll still smell you. I'm just hoping that all those captives will make another human smell less remarkable. Just remember not to get too close."
Willow wrote a list of the supplies she needed, and Anya went to the shop to collect them. Xander still couldn't sit still, and continued to pace. Willow needed time to meditate and had fled to the bedroom to try to get some peace.
An hour later they were ready to begin. Xander stood in the middle of a circle inscribed in sand in the centre of the floor. Willow had sprinkled him with a number of powders from jars Anya had brought, without explaining what she was doing. When she was happy, she stood back and looked. "Xander, are you sure about this?"
For once lost for words, he just nodded. His heart was racing and he knew he had to calm himself or that alone would give him away. Willow started to chant. He couldn't make out the words. Everything seemed a blur. He forgot Anya standing behind him, his attention only for the woman in front of him, her eyes darkening and her hair somehow seeming to glow. He didn't know how long it had been, but suddenly there was a shift around him – as though the world had been badly edited, and Willow looked like herself again. She was looking towards him uncertainly.
"Didn't work, eh?" he said, almost relieved.
"Xander," she sounded excited. "It did work. I can't see you. Where's your hand, let me hold it."
Uncertainly, Xander held out his hand, amused to see that Willow's didn't move towards his. He grasped her hand in his, and she smiled. Turning to his girlfriend, he walked to her and gave her a kiss. "Take me to the warehouse?" he asked.
Buffy had returned home. She spent the time while Spike was asleep on the many little jobs that seemed to have built up around the house these last few days. She also had to get things ready for Dawn who was going on a residential course with school the next morning. When she heard the shower upstairs turn on, she went up.
Waiting in her room for Spike to come back, she looked through the drawers, wondering if her other self kept a diary. She missed writing in hers each day. It had been her companion when she had no others. She didn't find one, but she found a photograph. It was at the bottom of a drawer, but the two faces were unmistakable. It was her, or at least the other Buffy and Riley Finn. They had their arms around each other. It looked to be a party of some sort, but there they were, entwined with each other. A shiver ran down her spine. The Riley she knew had always made her feel uncomfortable.
When he returned, wrapped only in a towel, Buffy smiled. She showed Spike what she had been looking at. "What's up, love, think you made the wrong choice?" He was walking towards her, shoulders rolling, his manner almost, but not quite threatening. "What do you think?" she answered him, reaching out for the towel, and dropping it to the floor. They didn't say anything else for a while.
At the warehouse, Willow and Anya had stayed in the car, around the corner from the entrance. Xander approached the main door and opened it carefully. He stood just inside, hoping he hadn't been heard, before slowly moving away. He walked along a corridor, which was deserted except for a couple of large, well-muscled vampires lounging half way along. Checking doors right and left as he walked, Xander got the impression that most of the occupants were asleep in communal dormitories as Spike had intimated.
Skirting around the guards, he reached the end of the corridor and went into a large space which held about a dozen vampires lounging around, chatting. He didn't know what he expected, but Xander didn't really expect to see anything so … ordinary.
He wandered around the area looking for anything that might be useful. He had just decided to look for some stairs, when he spotted a door. It should have been a cupboard, but he decided to check. There was no one in sight, and he eased the door open. He went in and looked around. The room was small, it probably had been intended as a cupboard, but he knew this was what he'd been looking for. There was a pole in the centre of the room, manacles hanging from it, and the walls were flanked with fluorescent tubes.
Surprised, Xander looked carefully. They were standard tubes manufactured by a well-known company. The only difference from the ones at use in thousands of homes and shops was that these were designed to match colour accurately. They were designated 'daylight equivalent' and had model number. Realising he could get more of these easily, he simply memorised the model number, then crept out of the room. He made his way back the way he had come. He got almost within touching distance of the main door, and was just congratulating himself on success, when the world lurched again, and he blacked out.
In the car, Willow had blacked out at the same instant Xander did. She had realised shortly after he had gone, that the spell was draining her faster than she had thought, but it was too late to call him back. Every moment he was gone, Willow was in an agony of concentration, desperate to maintain the illusion of invisibility. In the end, her body had rebelled, and she had fainted.
Anya immediately panicked. She shook the witch, calling her name desperately. When she came around and remembered what had happened, Willow started to cry. She knew Xander had become visible at the instant she had lost control. Unsure what else she could do, Anya drove a distraught Willow home to Buffy's. Leaving Willow in the car, Anya went straight in to find Dawn watching TV.
"He's gone. They've got him. You've got to get Buffy to help him. They'll kill him."
Dawn didn't understand, and was on her way to get her 'sister' when Buffy came down. It took several attempts before Anya made Buffy understand what had happened. When she realised Willow was still in the car, Dawn called Tara who came to help bring the witch indoors. Tara was shocked that Willow had used magic at all, but when she heard exactly what she'd done, she was beside herself. She kept her thoughts to herself for then, but only until Xander was safe. Tara promised herself that she had to do something about Willow after that.
Spike had taken his time coming down. He had heard Anya's voice, but not what she'd said. He'd assumed Xander was there too and didn't want another run in with him. When Dawn called Tara, he realised something was up and he had dressed and come downstairs. Buffy filled him in on what had happened. Anya had been getting more hysterical by the minute, and was now shouting at Buffy.
"You've got to go and get him. It's your fault he did this. He had to show you. And now he's going to die, and …" Her words tailed off as tears came. Tara gently guided her to a chair.
Spike realised he had to say something, but he couldn't offer much hope.
"I'm going in again tonight, and if I can help him, I will. But, we've got to carry on with the main plan. We can't let him jeopardise it any further – assuming he hasn't blown my cover already."
Buffy knew he was right. At that minute, she could gladly have throttled Xander. If he had blown Spike's cover ….. She shivered at the prospect. She was unhappy about him going in again anyway but had reconciled herself to its being necessary. Now the risks were increased, and she was angry.
When Xander came to, he found himself in a pen, with another eight men. As he looked at one of them, he heard him say, "Welcome to Hell."
It was after nine when Spike left. It was earlier than he normally went out, but, he hoped, not too early to arouse suspicion. Buffy held him, not wanting to let him go as he stood by the door. "Come back safe," she told him. Anya had gone home a couple of hours earlier, Tara agreeing to stay with her. Willow had gone to her room. She hadn't spoken since they got back, and the sound of her sobbing had been heard periodically all evening.