Slip Of Mind, by Trisha H.
Chapter 4
Summary: Takes place directly after Dead Things. The Super Geeks gain control of Spike's chip and use him like a weapon, but since they are the Super GEEKS, things don't go quite the way they planned. B/S in nature. . It's a response to a challenge posted by Nos on Crumbling Walls (http://cgi.komodo-skin.com/forum). The challenge details are written in the first chapter.
Rating: R to be safe. I don't really know.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Never were, never will be, Joss owns the whole world, blah blah blah.
Spoilers: Through Older and Far Away, though probably not. I'm just saying so in case I accidentally mess up the timeline and drop something in I shouldn't.
Feedback: PLEASE! Dragolyn@hotmail.com Thanks SO much to everyone who's left feedback for me.
**********
"Thanks for making cookies Mom, but we're not hungry," Jonathan called over his shoulder, walking down the stairs to the basement in front of Buffy. Closing the door to the rest of the house, he turned to face the Slayer. "She doesn't come down here. Something about me being a man now and needing my privacy to meet nice, marriable girls. That's why she was so happy to see you with me."
Buffy shuddered a bit. "Ew. I'm so not dwelling on that thought. Why are we in your parent's basement?"
"Well, we used to have a super cool lair, before... the whole invisibility thing. Willow knew where it was though, so we had to move all our stuff somewhere no one would think to search. This is our new lair."
"*This* is your lair?" Buffy asked, looking from the enormous Star Wars posters to the exposed water pipes and unfinished walls with a smirk. "Your parent's basement? How lame. Or, maybe not. I guess it's not totally a bad. Definitely the last place I would've looked for you. The last bad guys I fought had a penthouse. This is... so much dorkier."
Jonathan ignored her, scanning the room for signs that Warren had been there. "It's okay," he said finally, kicking aside a pile of dirty laundry. "I think he's still at his mom's house."
"Um... hello? I said we were going to go look for Warren. Looking in places where you know he's not gonna be is not a good way to find him. If you're just wasting my time, you're gonna be one unhappy little geek."
"I'm not, I swear. I brought you here for a reason. There's something you've got to see," Jonathan said unhappily. He walked to the back of the room and opened a door. "They're in here. All of them."
"Them?" Buffy said, pushing past him into the bedroom. "Them who?"
"Warren's slaves."
A dozen people were crammed into the small room. They stood in rows, swaying back and forth slightly with exhaustion their faces did not, could not, reflect. Buffy walked towards the nearest person, a middle aged man with soft jowls and gray sideburns. She waved her hand in front of his face. His eyes didn't track her movement; he didn't even blink. Had she not known better, she might have assumed he was a mannequin. But he wasn't. He was a human being, a husband, judging by his wedding band, and maybe a father. Someone with people who loved him, people who were probably worried about him. He didn't deserve to be mind-raped.
"Who are they?" she whispered to Jonathan, her voice thin with anger. She pressed down on the man's shoulders, forcing him to sit, to rest his legs. "What are they doing here?"
"I don't know most of them," he said, looking away. He shuffled his feet, wishing he was anyplace else. "Warren brought them here a few at a time. He said they're people who got in his way, people who got suspicious of his plans."
Buffy grabbed him by the shoulder, her hands shaking. "How could you do this? This is... it's sick! These are people with rights, with feelings and families. They're not toys!"
"Hey, at least Andrew and I fed them. That was more than Warren was going to do. He liked to pretend that they weren't even in here! Not us. We gave them food and tried to make them comfortable. Really, we tried."
Looking towards the back of the room, Buffy pointed to a small figure curled into a ball. All she could see of him was a narrow back and a head of tousled brown curls. "That boy couldn't be more than five years old. Why did Warren do this to him? He got too suspicious, is that what you said? How suspicious could he possibly have been? He's too young to even say the word!"
Jonathan shrugged. "The kid is Warren's neighbor, Nathaniel. We were told he found one of Warren's girlfriend bots. Andrew and I were too scared to ask for the details."
"You brought me here to rescue these people?" Buffy said, scooping the insensible little boy into her arms. "Let's go then. Let's get them out of here."
"No. The effects of the Dampener wont wear off for another day or more. What would we do with them? Plus, they wont go with you. Trust me."
"Wanna bet?" she said, starting for the door. "C'mon people, follow me. You're free, all of you. I'll get you away from these psychos. You can go home, go back to your families. They'll take care of you. Warren wont hurt you again."
None of the victims moved. They didn't even seem to realize she was there.
Thoroughly disturbed, Buffy grabbed Jonathan's arm. "You're their Master, right? Well, order them to wake up! Make them come with us!"
"I'm no one's Master, not after how I acted when Katrina... when she died. Warren didn't trust Andrew or I after that night. He thought we were too weak, or at least that's what he said. Now I know he just wanted all the power for himself." Jonathan stepped out of the room and motioned for Buffy to follow him. "They have to stay here for now, until they come back to their senses. They wont follow you out, and you can't carry them- well, okay, you could, Slayer strength and all, but it'd be a bad thing to do in their condition. You could damage them, permanently."
"So, what? We leave them here for Warren to find? No deal. He'll just zap them with his magic brain melter again. I wont let that happen."
"I can put a ward on the door to keep Warren from hurting them again. Okay?"
"Fine," Buffy said, her arms tightening around Nathaniel. "But I'm taking the little boy with us. He can stay with me until Warren's mind control mojo wears off. Then, we'll find his mom and dad. And *you'll* come up with some kind of explanation about where he's been, not me."
"I don't think that's such a good idea. We still have to find Warren. How are we suppose to do that with you carrying zombie boy?"
"Don't worry about that. You just do your spell. Leave the planning to me."
"We could wait here for him. This *is* his lair. Eventually he'll show up looking for Andrew and I. You wouldn't have to carry the kid all over town, and hey, we have cable." Jonathan pointed to the kitchenette. "And popcorn."
"You really don't get it, do you? Is this still a game to you, even after everything that's happened? I'm the Slayer, you freak. I don't just sit around waiting while the bad guy is out hurting people. Sitting on your morals is your job, not mine," she said, disgust dripping from each word. "Do your spell. I'll wait for you outside."
She walked up the stairs, pausing at the top. "You're still the enemy, Jonathan," she said, staring down at him coolly. "You and Andrew both. Don't forget that. You don't get to relax. You don't get to make suggestions. You and me- we're not friends. We're not equals. I'm the boss. I give you orders for a few days, and you follow them. Then you're leaving town, and going far away where I won't have to deal with your crap anymore. Get that?"
Clutching Nathaniel tightly to her chest, she stormed out of the room, not bothering to wait for Jonathan to respond.
Jonathan looked away, and noticed Andrew's light saber leaning precariously against the wall in the corner. On the floor beside it sat his Sunnydale High School yearbook. Looking back towards the empty stairs, he dropped his face into his hands and whimpered.
************
"Is it time for that? I mean, he is still asleep. Do you have to give him another shot right now?" Dawn asked, looking at the needle in Tara's hand with wide eyes.
"It's okay," Tara said, bending over the bed and injecting the sedative into Spike's upper arm. The vampire stayed curled on his side, still as death. "I think it's better to do it now, before he's making noise. Maybe if we don't let him wake up even a little, he wont remember any of this."
"I was worried about that," Dawn said. She sat cross-legged at Spike's feet, fingering the hem of his jeans idly. "About what he'll remember, I mean. He'd hate knowing he was this helpless, and that we took care of him. Doesn't really fit with that whole 'Big Bad' image of his, and all."
"Big Bad, huh?" Tara smiled, thinking of the times during that last, terrible summer when Spike had been anything but bad. Caring for Dawn had been his whole focus before Buffy's return. No creature could have looked less evil than Spike in a pink, plaid apron, teaching Dawn how to bake bread. "Big Bad. That'd be something to see."
"I've seen it," Dawn said, her eyes shadowed. "Or, that is, I remember seeing it. Buffy kept him away from me, of course, but there were a few times that are hard to forget. He was really... really something, back then."
"You sound... you sound regretful," Tara said, taking Dawn's hand. "Don't tell me you feel sorry for him because he can't murder innocent people anymore. He's your friend, but... I know you couldn't mean that."
"Of course not. No killing is a big happy thing in my book. It's just... you should've seen him, back then. Okay- yeah, he was evil. Like, really evil. He would've killed Buffy if he could have, and he did kill tons and tons of people, he and Drusilla. He was a monster, a demon. But..." she looked down at Spike's lifeless face, at the limp, defenseless length of his body. "He was also so... dynamic. Such a force. And now..."
Tara patted her shoulder, her face tight. "He's still something. Or, someone, I mean. He's just... rebuilding. Trying to find his place. It took him more than a century to create the life you saw him with. Give him time, and I'm sure he'll make a life that's just as... big. But in a good way, this time. He has you to help him. A-and Buffy."
Dawn circled her finger around the protruding bone of Spike's ankle, trying to decide how to word what she needed to ask. "Tara... does Buffy... she and Spike, are they... together?"
"More or less," Tara said, her voice gentle. "Is that okay with you?"
"More or less," Dawn echoed, biting her lower lip. "I guess I've known for a while now that something was going on with them, but Buffy was really careful not to let on how she felt."
"Until he got hurt, I don't think Buffy even admitted to herself that she loved him. It was hard for her to let herself believe that she could love someone with Spike's past. I mean, that'd be hard for anyone." Tara sighed, remembering the terrible look on Buffy's face when she'd told her that she hadn't come back wrong. "And with everything else she's gone through... you can see how she'd be confused. Sometimes, it takes a good... umm.."
"A good kick in the pants?" Dawn suggested, raising an eyebrow.
"Or somewhere," Tara said, looking down at Spike's face. The bruises from Buffy's attack were still visible, though mostly healed. "She shot him down, and he still kept coming. She insulted him, attacked him with words, and he never backed down. She beat him up, over and over, and he just kept getting back up, kept getting in her face, kept proving his love to her. He annoyed her, but... well, she could pretend through all those things that she didn't feel anything for him. But when she realized she might actually loose him... hello to facing her feelings!"
"Wow," Dawn said, staring at Tara. "Listen to you. You're really into this, aren't you? You like it that they're a couple?"
"I don't know if I'd call them a couple, not yet at least. But yeah, I want it to work out for them. Not just because I'm a romantic... really, I'm more realistic about stuff like love now than I was a few months ago. I just think that Buffy deserves someone who understands her. Someone who loves her, all of her. And Spike... he deserves someone too. He's worked really hard, and done a lot of good, but it's hard for him. If he has Buffy, I think he'll find himself on a decent path, no matter how many times he screws up." She smiled down at Spike, noticing the way his lips relaxed along the lines of his trademark smirk. "And he will screw up. But so will she. They'll learn together, I think."
The girls fell silent for a moment, letting the truth of Tara's words absorb into their minds. Dawn pulled her legs up and hugged them against her chest, resting her chin on the tops of her knees. She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that she didn't care if Buffy ever found love. Her sister didn't have time for her as it was. If she had a boyfriend- a *real* boyfriend, Dawn corrected herself, thinking of Spike- well, if she had one of those, she might as well move to Timbuktu and be done with it. Dawn would never see her, ever, if that happened.
But as hard as she tried to steel her heart against Buffy, she just couldn't do it. The grief of watching her sister die was still too near, as well as the memory of all Buffy had given up to protect her. With a tentative hand, she reached out and grasped Spike's ankle. Blast it, she thought, annoyed with herself. She'd always accepted Spike for her own sake. She could do it for Buffy's as well. Meeting Tara's gentle smile, she felt her lips curve upwards.
Suddenly, they heard a slamming noise from the upper level of the crypt. Dawn jumped up from the bed, her nerves alit with fear. "That's not Buffy or the gang. It's way too soon for them to be back. Could it be Andrew?"
"No, Willow took him with her to help get rid of the van." Tara stood and walked towards the ladder. She climbed to the top rung and peered upstairs, then dropped back down to the floor. Looking at Dawn with wide eyes, she motioned for her to get under the bed. "It's Warren," she mouthed frantically.
"But..." Dawn protested in a whisper, pointing at Spike's unconscious body. She couldn't leave him there, defenseless.
Footsteps neared the top of the ladder. Tara grabbed Dawn by the shoulders and shoved her under the bed. Pausing only to grab the remote controller, she rolled out of site just as Warren's feet came thudding down the ladder.
"Oh God, oh God," Dawn breathed, clutching Tara's arm. "Spike!"
Tara held the girl against her side, comforting and silencing her at the same time. Trying to breathe in the dusty air without coughing, they watched as Warren's dirty gray Nikes circled slowly around the bed. Dawn tried unsuccessfully not to flinch as his feet moved closer towards her face. He gave the bed frame a sharp kick and, leaning over Spike, began to laugh.
"Who's in charge now, bleach brain? Huh? Me. Not you. Look at you, all limp and pale and pathetic. But not for long. You'll see. I have big plans for you, my bloodsucking friend. Big plans. You'll never meet a leather collar you'll like, not after I'm done with you."
"Leather collar?" Dawn mouthed to Tara, gulping. They watched Warren's shoes as he moved across the room and stood underneath the ladder, calling out to someone upstairs. A second pair of feet appeared at the side of the bed, feet clad in fancy, brown loafers.
"Pick him up and take him to the car," Warren said in a monotone. "He's so out of it, he should sleep all the way back to the lair, but keep the cuffs on him just in case. We don't want any trouble, not yet at least."
"Yes, Master." The voice was deep and resonating. It belonged to a man, a large one. Tara craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of his face, but could see nothing higher than his ankles.
The mattress above the girls creaked and dipped down towards their heads as the strange man leaned on the bed and lifted Spike into his arms. He stomped towards the ladder, his steps heavier now with the added weight of one, lean vampire. Warren rustled through some of Spike's belongings for a minute, then followed his slave upstairs.
Dawn cringed as she heard the crypt door slam shut. She scurried out from underneath the bed and sat on the empty sheets, looking lost. "What now?" she asked Tara. "Buffy's gonna freak when she finds out Warren took Spike. What are we going to do?"
Searching the room quickly, Tara shook her head, her mouth a grim line. "I don't know. We have a problem. Warren took Spike, but left all the tranquilizers here."
"Why would he do that? Without those drugs, Spike's way out of control. Even with him wearing the handcuffs, Warren's no match for him."
"I know that. What's more, Warren knows that. So he must want him that way. He's got to have some kind of a plan that calls for crazy-Spike. And I'm guessing that whatever it is doesn't involve rainbows and kittens." Tara packed the medical supplies into her purse quickly. "We've gotta get out of here, and find Buffy. She'll make it right. Oh, and umm... hey. You don't need to worry about a thing. It'll all be okay."
"Sure," Dawn muttered, trailing behind Tara as she climbed up the ladder. "Psycho murderer guy's kidnapped Spike to help him take over the town with his human zombie army. No reason to worry at all."
Chapter 4
Summary: Takes place directly after Dead Things. The Super Geeks gain control of Spike's chip and use him like a weapon, but since they are the Super GEEKS, things don't go quite the way they planned. B/S in nature. . It's a response to a challenge posted by Nos on Crumbling Walls (http://cgi.komodo-skin.com/forum). The challenge details are written in the first chapter.
Rating: R to be safe. I don't really know.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Never were, never will be, Joss owns the whole world, blah blah blah.
Spoilers: Through Older and Far Away, though probably not. I'm just saying so in case I accidentally mess up the timeline and drop something in I shouldn't.
Feedback: PLEASE! Dragolyn@hotmail.com Thanks SO much to everyone who's left feedback for me.
**********
"Thanks for making cookies Mom, but we're not hungry," Jonathan called over his shoulder, walking down the stairs to the basement in front of Buffy. Closing the door to the rest of the house, he turned to face the Slayer. "She doesn't come down here. Something about me being a man now and needing my privacy to meet nice, marriable girls. That's why she was so happy to see you with me."
Buffy shuddered a bit. "Ew. I'm so not dwelling on that thought. Why are we in your parent's basement?"
"Well, we used to have a super cool lair, before... the whole invisibility thing. Willow knew where it was though, so we had to move all our stuff somewhere no one would think to search. This is our new lair."
"*This* is your lair?" Buffy asked, looking from the enormous Star Wars posters to the exposed water pipes and unfinished walls with a smirk. "Your parent's basement? How lame. Or, maybe not. I guess it's not totally a bad. Definitely the last place I would've looked for you. The last bad guys I fought had a penthouse. This is... so much dorkier."
Jonathan ignored her, scanning the room for signs that Warren had been there. "It's okay," he said finally, kicking aside a pile of dirty laundry. "I think he's still at his mom's house."
"Um... hello? I said we were going to go look for Warren. Looking in places where you know he's not gonna be is not a good way to find him. If you're just wasting my time, you're gonna be one unhappy little geek."
"I'm not, I swear. I brought you here for a reason. There's something you've got to see," Jonathan said unhappily. He walked to the back of the room and opened a door. "They're in here. All of them."
"Them?" Buffy said, pushing past him into the bedroom. "Them who?"
"Warren's slaves."
A dozen people were crammed into the small room. They stood in rows, swaying back and forth slightly with exhaustion their faces did not, could not, reflect. Buffy walked towards the nearest person, a middle aged man with soft jowls and gray sideburns. She waved her hand in front of his face. His eyes didn't track her movement; he didn't even blink. Had she not known better, she might have assumed he was a mannequin. But he wasn't. He was a human being, a husband, judging by his wedding band, and maybe a father. Someone with people who loved him, people who were probably worried about him. He didn't deserve to be mind-raped.
"Who are they?" she whispered to Jonathan, her voice thin with anger. She pressed down on the man's shoulders, forcing him to sit, to rest his legs. "What are they doing here?"
"I don't know most of them," he said, looking away. He shuffled his feet, wishing he was anyplace else. "Warren brought them here a few at a time. He said they're people who got in his way, people who got suspicious of his plans."
Buffy grabbed him by the shoulder, her hands shaking. "How could you do this? This is... it's sick! These are people with rights, with feelings and families. They're not toys!"
"Hey, at least Andrew and I fed them. That was more than Warren was going to do. He liked to pretend that they weren't even in here! Not us. We gave them food and tried to make them comfortable. Really, we tried."
Looking towards the back of the room, Buffy pointed to a small figure curled into a ball. All she could see of him was a narrow back and a head of tousled brown curls. "That boy couldn't be more than five years old. Why did Warren do this to him? He got too suspicious, is that what you said? How suspicious could he possibly have been? He's too young to even say the word!"
Jonathan shrugged. "The kid is Warren's neighbor, Nathaniel. We were told he found one of Warren's girlfriend bots. Andrew and I were too scared to ask for the details."
"You brought me here to rescue these people?" Buffy said, scooping the insensible little boy into her arms. "Let's go then. Let's get them out of here."
"No. The effects of the Dampener wont wear off for another day or more. What would we do with them? Plus, they wont go with you. Trust me."
"Wanna bet?" she said, starting for the door. "C'mon people, follow me. You're free, all of you. I'll get you away from these psychos. You can go home, go back to your families. They'll take care of you. Warren wont hurt you again."
None of the victims moved. They didn't even seem to realize she was there.
Thoroughly disturbed, Buffy grabbed Jonathan's arm. "You're their Master, right? Well, order them to wake up! Make them come with us!"
"I'm no one's Master, not after how I acted when Katrina... when she died. Warren didn't trust Andrew or I after that night. He thought we were too weak, or at least that's what he said. Now I know he just wanted all the power for himself." Jonathan stepped out of the room and motioned for Buffy to follow him. "They have to stay here for now, until they come back to their senses. They wont follow you out, and you can't carry them- well, okay, you could, Slayer strength and all, but it'd be a bad thing to do in their condition. You could damage them, permanently."
"So, what? We leave them here for Warren to find? No deal. He'll just zap them with his magic brain melter again. I wont let that happen."
"I can put a ward on the door to keep Warren from hurting them again. Okay?"
"Fine," Buffy said, her arms tightening around Nathaniel. "But I'm taking the little boy with us. He can stay with me until Warren's mind control mojo wears off. Then, we'll find his mom and dad. And *you'll* come up with some kind of explanation about where he's been, not me."
"I don't think that's such a good idea. We still have to find Warren. How are we suppose to do that with you carrying zombie boy?"
"Don't worry about that. You just do your spell. Leave the planning to me."
"We could wait here for him. This *is* his lair. Eventually he'll show up looking for Andrew and I. You wouldn't have to carry the kid all over town, and hey, we have cable." Jonathan pointed to the kitchenette. "And popcorn."
"You really don't get it, do you? Is this still a game to you, even after everything that's happened? I'm the Slayer, you freak. I don't just sit around waiting while the bad guy is out hurting people. Sitting on your morals is your job, not mine," she said, disgust dripping from each word. "Do your spell. I'll wait for you outside."
She walked up the stairs, pausing at the top. "You're still the enemy, Jonathan," she said, staring down at him coolly. "You and Andrew both. Don't forget that. You don't get to relax. You don't get to make suggestions. You and me- we're not friends. We're not equals. I'm the boss. I give you orders for a few days, and you follow them. Then you're leaving town, and going far away where I won't have to deal with your crap anymore. Get that?"
Clutching Nathaniel tightly to her chest, she stormed out of the room, not bothering to wait for Jonathan to respond.
Jonathan looked away, and noticed Andrew's light saber leaning precariously against the wall in the corner. On the floor beside it sat his Sunnydale High School yearbook. Looking back towards the empty stairs, he dropped his face into his hands and whimpered.
************
"Is it time for that? I mean, he is still asleep. Do you have to give him another shot right now?" Dawn asked, looking at the needle in Tara's hand with wide eyes.
"It's okay," Tara said, bending over the bed and injecting the sedative into Spike's upper arm. The vampire stayed curled on his side, still as death. "I think it's better to do it now, before he's making noise. Maybe if we don't let him wake up even a little, he wont remember any of this."
"I was worried about that," Dawn said. She sat cross-legged at Spike's feet, fingering the hem of his jeans idly. "About what he'll remember, I mean. He'd hate knowing he was this helpless, and that we took care of him. Doesn't really fit with that whole 'Big Bad' image of his, and all."
"Big Bad, huh?" Tara smiled, thinking of the times during that last, terrible summer when Spike had been anything but bad. Caring for Dawn had been his whole focus before Buffy's return. No creature could have looked less evil than Spike in a pink, plaid apron, teaching Dawn how to bake bread. "Big Bad. That'd be something to see."
"I've seen it," Dawn said, her eyes shadowed. "Or, that is, I remember seeing it. Buffy kept him away from me, of course, but there were a few times that are hard to forget. He was really... really something, back then."
"You sound... you sound regretful," Tara said, taking Dawn's hand. "Don't tell me you feel sorry for him because he can't murder innocent people anymore. He's your friend, but... I know you couldn't mean that."
"Of course not. No killing is a big happy thing in my book. It's just... you should've seen him, back then. Okay- yeah, he was evil. Like, really evil. He would've killed Buffy if he could have, and he did kill tons and tons of people, he and Drusilla. He was a monster, a demon. But..." she looked down at Spike's lifeless face, at the limp, defenseless length of his body. "He was also so... dynamic. Such a force. And now..."
Tara patted her shoulder, her face tight. "He's still something. Or, someone, I mean. He's just... rebuilding. Trying to find his place. It took him more than a century to create the life you saw him with. Give him time, and I'm sure he'll make a life that's just as... big. But in a good way, this time. He has you to help him. A-and Buffy."
Dawn circled her finger around the protruding bone of Spike's ankle, trying to decide how to word what she needed to ask. "Tara... does Buffy... she and Spike, are they... together?"
"More or less," Tara said, her voice gentle. "Is that okay with you?"
"More or less," Dawn echoed, biting her lower lip. "I guess I've known for a while now that something was going on with them, but Buffy was really careful not to let on how she felt."
"Until he got hurt, I don't think Buffy even admitted to herself that she loved him. It was hard for her to let herself believe that she could love someone with Spike's past. I mean, that'd be hard for anyone." Tara sighed, remembering the terrible look on Buffy's face when she'd told her that she hadn't come back wrong. "And with everything else she's gone through... you can see how she'd be confused. Sometimes, it takes a good... umm.."
"A good kick in the pants?" Dawn suggested, raising an eyebrow.
"Or somewhere," Tara said, looking down at Spike's face. The bruises from Buffy's attack were still visible, though mostly healed. "She shot him down, and he still kept coming. She insulted him, attacked him with words, and he never backed down. She beat him up, over and over, and he just kept getting back up, kept getting in her face, kept proving his love to her. He annoyed her, but... well, she could pretend through all those things that she didn't feel anything for him. But when she realized she might actually loose him... hello to facing her feelings!"
"Wow," Dawn said, staring at Tara. "Listen to you. You're really into this, aren't you? You like it that they're a couple?"
"I don't know if I'd call them a couple, not yet at least. But yeah, I want it to work out for them. Not just because I'm a romantic... really, I'm more realistic about stuff like love now than I was a few months ago. I just think that Buffy deserves someone who understands her. Someone who loves her, all of her. And Spike... he deserves someone too. He's worked really hard, and done a lot of good, but it's hard for him. If he has Buffy, I think he'll find himself on a decent path, no matter how many times he screws up." She smiled down at Spike, noticing the way his lips relaxed along the lines of his trademark smirk. "And he will screw up. But so will she. They'll learn together, I think."
The girls fell silent for a moment, letting the truth of Tara's words absorb into their minds. Dawn pulled her legs up and hugged them against her chest, resting her chin on the tops of her knees. She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that she didn't care if Buffy ever found love. Her sister didn't have time for her as it was. If she had a boyfriend- a *real* boyfriend, Dawn corrected herself, thinking of Spike- well, if she had one of those, she might as well move to Timbuktu and be done with it. Dawn would never see her, ever, if that happened.
But as hard as she tried to steel her heart against Buffy, she just couldn't do it. The grief of watching her sister die was still too near, as well as the memory of all Buffy had given up to protect her. With a tentative hand, she reached out and grasped Spike's ankle. Blast it, she thought, annoyed with herself. She'd always accepted Spike for her own sake. She could do it for Buffy's as well. Meeting Tara's gentle smile, she felt her lips curve upwards.
Suddenly, they heard a slamming noise from the upper level of the crypt. Dawn jumped up from the bed, her nerves alit with fear. "That's not Buffy or the gang. It's way too soon for them to be back. Could it be Andrew?"
"No, Willow took him with her to help get rid of the van." Tara stood and walked towards the ladder. She climbed to the top rung and peered upstairs, then dropped back down to the floor. Looking at Dawn with wide eyes, she motioned for her to get under the bed. "It's Warren," she mouthed frantically.
"But..." Dawn protested in a whisper, pointing at Spike's unconscious body. She couldn't leave him there, defenseless.
Footsteps neared the top of the ladder. Tara grabbed Dawn by the shoulders and shoved her under the bed. Pausing only to grab the remote controller, she rolled out of site just as Warren's feet came thudding down the ladder.
"Oh God, oh God," Dawn breathed, clutching Tara's arm. "Spike!"
Tara held the girl against her side, comforting and silencing her at the same time. Trying to breathe in the dusty air without coughing, they watched as Warren's dirty gray Nikes circled slowly around the bed. Dawn tried unsuccessfully not to flinch as his feet moved closer towards her face. He gave the bed frame a sharp kick and, leaning over Spike, began to laugh.
"Who's in charge now, bleach brain? Huh? Me. Not you. Look at you, all limp and pale and pathetic. But not for long. You'll see. I have big plans for you, my bloodsucking friend. Big plans. You'll never meet a leather collar you'll like, not after I'm done with you."
"Leather collar?" Dawn mouthed to Tara, gulping. They watched Warren's shoes as he moved across the room and stood underneath the ladder, calling out to someone upstairs. A second pair of feet appeared at the side of the bed, feet clad in fancy, brown loafers.
"Pick him up and take him to the car," Warren said in a monotone. "He's so out of it, he should sleep all the way back to the lair, but keep the cuffs on him just in case. We don't want any trouble, not yet at least."
"Yes, Master." The voice was deep and resonating. It belonged to a man, a large one. Tara craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of his face, but could see nothing higher than his ankles.
The mattress above the girls creaked and dipped down towards their heads as the strange man leaned on the bed and lifted Spike into his arms. He stomped towards the ladder, his steps heavier now with the added weight of one, lean vampire. Warren rustled through some of Spike's belongings for a minute, then followed his slave upstairs.
Dawn cringed as she heard the crypt door slam shut. She scurried out from underneath the bed and sat on the empty sheets, looking lost. "What now?" she asked Tara. "Buffy's gonna freak when she finds out Warren took Spike. What are we going to do?"
Searching the room quickly, Tara shook her head, her mouth a grim line. "I don't know. We have a problem. Warren took Spike, but left all the tranquilizers here."
"Why would he do that? Without those drugs, Spike's way out of control. Even with him wearing the handcuffs, Warren's no match for him."
"I know that. What's more, Warren knows that. So he must want him that way. He's got to have some kind of a plan that calls for crazy-Spike. And I'm guessing that whatever it is doesn't involve rainbows and kittens." Tara packed the medical supplies into her purse quickly. "We've gotta get out of here, and find Buffy. She'll make it right. Oh, and umm... hey. You don't need to worry about a thing. It'll all be okay."
"Sure," Dawn muttered, trailing behind Tara as she climbed up the ladder. "Psycho murderer guy's kidnapped Spike to help him take over the town with his human zombie army. No reason to worry at all."