Notes: For the purposes of this story, the characters on Angel are still
where they were in the season finale
Repercussions, part 14
Willow sent an urgent e-mail to Sam Finn. Buffy had instructed her not to mention Spike. She was just to say that Buffy needed to talk to Riley, and it was an emergency. Within thirty minutes, the phone rang, and Buffy answered it before the first ring had ended. It was Riley, calling from somewhere 'north of Beijing.' Whatever.
"Riley! Thank you for getting back to me so soon. No, it's not me. It's, well, it's Spike." She looked over at him and gave him a little smile. Then, a look of mild annoyance appeared on her face.
"No, nothing like that. The chip is malfunctioning."
She paused again. Now she looked really annoyed. "No, he's not biting people! Would you shut up and listen!" All the eyes in the room widened in surprise, especially Spike's.
Buffy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, o.k.? Just listen for a minute. The chip is going crazy. It's going off for no reason. We need to find someone that knows about how the chip works."
They all continued staring at her as a look of barely suppressed fury clouded her face. "That. Is. Not. An. Option."
"Soldier boy wants to put me out of my misery, I expect," Spike said. Willow, seated next to him, put her hand on his arm, and Xander looked at the floor. Only Dawn looked shocked.
"Riley. This is what I need. I need the name of a doctor, a scientist, someone from the Initiative who knows about the chip and can take it out. Yes, I said take it out. What do you mean? Well, there has to be someone!" She sat down on the arm of the chair. "What about, records, blueprints, plans, an instruction manual? Something?" As she listened to him talk, her chin started to tremble. "Riley?" she said, "please tell me you're not lying to me. If I ever meant anything to you, anything at all..." Buffy closed her eyes. "I know. You're positive? O.K. Alright. Bye." She pushed the off button on the phone, and sat staring at it for a moment.
"Everything's gone," she finally said. "Everything and everyone. The doctors involved with the project are either dead or have mysteriously disappeared. Any paperwork, computer files, any documentation there was, also destroyed. Riley said that the chip was a prototype. Like any computer chip, they knew it could malfunction or deteriorate. They never had any method in place for repairing or removing it if that happened, anyway." Her words hung in the air as everyone took in her meaning. Dawn began to sniffle.
"What about a doctor?" asked Xander.
"I just said, all the Initiative doctors are gone."
"No, like a regular brain surgeon or something," he shrugged and looked at Willow.
"Yes, a neurosurgeon," Willow nodded. "Don't know how we'd explain the lack of pulse, though." She smiled sadly and ran her hand through Spike's hair.
Buffy grabbed her address book from beneath the phone, opened it to the first page, and punched in a number.
"Who are you calling?" asked Xander.
"Angel. He has a lot of connections. Maybe he knows one of these brain doctory guys for vampires in L.A."
Spike nudged Willow. "Captain Cardboard wanted to stake me," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "Wonder what ol' Angelus will want to do with me?"
"She needs to do this," Willow whispered in his ear.
God, he hated this. Sitting around like an invalid while Buffy called her idiot exes for help. He wanted to stand up and tell her to put down the bloody phone, he'd rather cut his head off than accept help from the likes of them. Except, he didn't want to be dusty. Or brain dead. Bugger. And, Willow was right. Buffy needed to do it. She needed to feel like she was doing something. His fierce little slayer. The way she was turning over every rock she could find, trying to help him. Made his heart ache. Maybe she really did love him.
"Hello? This is Buffy Summers. I need to speak to Angel. Uh huh. Listen, Fred, was it? I don't think you understand. This is an emergency." She put her hand on her hip. "Do you know who I am? Oh. Well how long has it been since you've seen him? Wow, that long." Buffy didn't have time to worry about anyone else right now, and pushed Angel thoughts aside. "Put Wesley on the phone then. You're kidding. Do you know where *anyone* is?" Her voice began to rise. "What about Cordelia? Who the hell is Charles? Fred, thank you so much. You've been absolutely no help at all, and as for helping the helpless, you SUCK AT IT!"
Xander stood up. "Buffy..."
"GOD DAMMIT!" she screamed. She threw the phone against the wall and it shattered into a hundred pieces, taking some of the plaster with it. The room went deathly quiet, except for the sound of Buffy's breathing as she willed herself not to burst into hysterical crying.
"Not my game, mind you, but I'd wager the Dodgers would be interested in that fastball you've got there, slayer."
She groaned and rolled her eyes at him, then sat down on the coffee table, head in her hands. "Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia are all MIA. Angel Investigations now appears to consist of two people named 'Fred' and 'Charles.' And I have no more ex-boyfriends to call."
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Anya materialized in the living room.
She greeted them all cheerfully, then pulled Buffy aside. "Rupert is very worried," she said. "How is he?" She nodded toward Spike, who was indulging Dawn by drinking a mug of blood while she hovered nearby.
"Not so good," Buffy said, "just look at him." Anya nodded. She knew that vampires had a high pain threshold, and Anya had never seen Spike so pale and drawn, not even when Buffy died.
"He doesn't look well," said Anya, "and neither do you."
"I'm fine."
"Well, if you call all jumpy and stressed out and on the verge of a breakdown fine....And your hair could use some work."
Buffy ran her hands absently over her hair. "I'm just so frustrated. There's nothing I can do. I'm the slayer, and I can't do a thing to help him."
"Perhaps he doesn't need the slayer right now, Buffy. Perhaps he just needs... Buffy."
Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thank you, Anya," she said, giving her a gentle hug. "O.K. Back to business. Does Giles have any information?" Buffy asked.
"I'm afraid not. I mean, he doesn't know any more about the chip than the rest of us do, and neither does the Watcher's Council. The only thing Giles could think of was to remove it. As for how, if you can't do it physically, you might be able to do it magically. He's already got the coven looking into it."
Buffy's eyes lit up. "Anya, get on that. Tell Giles we need the magic dechipping as soon as possible. We've got no other choice at this point. Maybe the coven can come up with something. Hurry."
"Alright. I'll be in touch as soon as possible."
"Thank..." Buffy began, but Anya had already dematerialized.
Buffy turned around and was startled to find Spike standing behind her. "I need to talk to you alone," he said.
"Let's go upstairs. You should lie down anyway." She led him by the hand up the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door. He sat wearily on the bed, and she sat down next to him. "Giles has got the coven working on a spell to remove the chip."
"So I heard." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Vampire hearing, luv. Not a big magic fan, but I wouldn't turn a good spell down about now."
"So you heard our whole conversation?" she asked.
Her hands sat primly on her knees, and he covered one of them with his own. "That Anya is a wise one, more than she lets on." Buffy stared down at their hands. "May come a time I do need the slayer, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Did Finn tell you to just dust me and be done with it?"
"It doesn't matter what he said."
Spike curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so he could look into her eyes. "Slayer, you know, it might come to that."
"No!" She pulled her face away from him. "Stop saying things like that. It's time for you to get with the horizontal." She busied herself with removing the shams and decorative pillows from the bed and turning down the covers.
"Buffy."
"I refuse to discuss this. La, la, la, la, la" she sang, her hands over her ears.
Spike gave up with a tired smile and bent down to remove his boots. After getting one off he faltered, and put his hand to his head.
"Again?"
"Not yet. It's coming." She pushed him gently back on the bed, removed his other boot, and then lay down next to him, cradling his head in her arms.
"This is not how I pictured our first time in my bed," she said.
He tightened his arms around her waist. "Me neither." His voice was muffled against her neck. "You told him you wanted to take it out. Not fix it."
"I think it's beyond the fixing at this point. Besides, you don't need it."
"What if I did need it? What if I didn't have a soul?" His head was still buried in her neck, and she pulled back a little so she could see him.
"I know I put you through a lot of pain," she said, tracing the planes of his face with her fingers, "but I could never have stood by and just watched you suffer like this. I hope you believe that." He kissed her then, desperately, hungrily, like it might be their last. And she was so afraid it would be.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "I know William the Bloody should never admit something like this to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I gotta say," he laughed shakily, "I'm a smidge terrified."
She took his face in her hands, gathering what little strength she had left, and tried to give it to him. "I'm here, Spike," she whispered, "I'm here."
TBC
Repercussions, part 14
Willow sent an urgent e-mail to Sam Finn. Buffy had instructed her not to mention Spike. She was just to say that Buffy needed to talk to Riley, and it was an emergency. Within thirty minutes, the phone rang, and Buffy answered it before the first ring had ended. It was Riley, calling from somewhere 'north of Beijing.' Whatever.
"Riley! Thank you for getting back to me so soon. No, it's not me. It's, well, it's Spike." She looked over at him and gave him a little smile. Then, a look of mild annoyance appeared on her face.
"No, nothing like that. The chip is malfunctioning."
She paused again. Now she looked really annoyed. "No, he's not biting people! Would you shut up and listen!" All the eyes in the room widened in surprise, especially Spike's.
Buffy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, o.k.? Just listen for a minute. The chip is going crazy. It's going off for no reason. We need to find someone that knows about how the chip works."
They all continued staring at her as a look of barely suppressed fury clouded her face. "That. Is. Not. An. Option."
"Soldier boy wants to put me out of my misery, I expect," Spike said. Willow, seated next to him, put her hand on his arm, and Xander looked at the floor. Only Dawn looked shocked.
"Riley. This is what I need. I need the name of a doctor, a scientist, someone from the Initiative who knows about the chip and can take it out. Yes, I said take it out. What do you mean? Well, there has to be someone!" She sat down on the arm of the chair. "What about, records, blueprints, plans, an instruction manual? Something?" As she listened to him talk, her chin started to tremble. "Riley?" she said, "please tell me you're not lying to me. If I ever meant anything to you, anything at all..." Buffy closed her eyes. "I know. You're positive? O.K. Alright. Bye." She pushed the off button on the phone, and sat staring at it for a moment.
"Everything's gone," she finally said. "Everything and everyone. The doctors involved with the project are either dead or have mysteriously disappeared. Any paperwork, computer files, any documentation there was, also destroyed. Riley said that the chip was a prototype. Like any computer chip, they knew it could malfunction or deteriorate. They never had any method in place for repairing or removing it if that happened, anyway." Her words hung in the air as everyone took in her meaning. Dawn began to sniffle.
"What about a doctor?" asked Xander.
"I just said, all the Initiative doctors are gone."
"No, like a regular brain surgeon or something," he shrugged and looked at Willow.
"Yes, a neurosurgeon," Willow nodded. "Don't know how we'd explain the lack of pulse, though." She smiled sadly and ran her hand through Spike's hair.
Buffy grabbed her address book from beneath the phone, opened it to the first page, and punched in a number.
"Who are you calling?" asked Xander.
"Angel. He has a lot of connections. Maybe he knows one of these brain doctory guys for vampires in L.A."
Spike nudged Willow. "Captain Cardboard wanted to stake me," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "Wonder what ol' Angelus will want to do with me?"
"She needs to do this," Willow whispered in his ear.
God, he hated this. Sitting around like an invalid while Buffy called her idiot exes for help. He wanted to stand up and tell her to put down the bloody phone, he'd rather cut his head off than accept help from the likes of them. Except, he didn't want to be dusty. Or brain dead. Bugger. And, Willow was right. Buffy needed to do it. She needed to feel like she was doing something. His fierce little slayer. The way she was turning over every rock she could find, trying to help him. Made his heart ache. Maybe she really did love him.
"Hello? This is Buffy Summers. I need to speak to Angel. Uh huh. Listen, Fred, was it? I don't think you understand. This is an emergency." She put her hand on her hip. "Do you know who I am? Oh. Well how long has it been since you've seen him? Wow, that long." Buffy didn't have time to worry about anyone else right now, and pushed Angel thoughts aside. "Put Wesley on the phone then. You're kidding. Do you know where *anyone* is?" Her voice began to rise. "What about Cordelia? Who the hell is Charles? Fred, thank you so much. You've been absolutely no help at all, and as for helping the helpless, you SUCK AT IT!"
Xander stood up. "Buffy..."
"GOD DAMMIT!" she screamed. She threw the phone against the wall and it shattered into a hundred pieces, taking some of the plaster with it. The room went deathly quiet, except for the sound of Buffy's breathing as she willed herself not to burst into hysterical crying.
"Not my game, mind you, but I'd wager the Dodgers would be interested in that fastball you've got there, slayer."
She groaned and rolled her eyes at him, then sat down on the coffee table, head in her hands. "Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia are all MIA. Angel Investigations now appears to consist of two people named 'Fred' and 'Charles.' And I have no more ex-boyfriends to call."
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Anya materialized in the living room.
She greeted them all cheerfully, then pulled Buffy aside. "Rupert is very worried," she said. "How is he?" She nodded toward Spike, who was indulging Dawn by drinking a mug of blood while she hovered nearby.
"Not so good," Buffy said, "just look at him." Anya nodded. She knew that vampires had a high pain threshold, and Anya had never seen Spike so pale and drawn, not even when Buffy died.
"He doesn't look well," said Anya, "and neither do you."
"I'm fine."
"Well, if you call all jumpy and stressed out and on the verge of a breakdown fine....And your hair could use some work."
Buffy ran her hands absently over her hair. "I'm just so frustrated. There's nothing I can do. I'm the slayer, and I can't do a thing to help him."
"Perhaps he doesn't need the slayer right now, Buffy. Perhaps he just needs... Buffy."
Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thank you, Anya," she said, giving her a gentle hug. "O.K. Back to business. Does Giles have any information?" Buffy asked.
"I'm afraid not. I mean, he doesn't know any more about the chip than the rest of us do, and neither does the Watcher's Council. The only thing Giles could think of was to remove it. As for how, if you can't do it physically, you might be able to do it magically. He's already got the coven looking into it."
Buffy's eyes lit up. "Anya, get on that. Tell Giles we need the magic dechipping as soon as possible. We've got no other choice at this point. Maybe the coven can come up with something. Hurry."
"Alright. I'll be in touch as soon as possible."
"Thank..." Buffy began, but Anya had already dematerialized.
Buffy turned around and was startled to find Spike standing behind her. "I need to talk to you alone," he said.
"Let's go upstairs. You should lie down anyway." She led him by the hand up the stairs to her bedroom and closed the door. He sat wearily on the bed, and she sat down next to him. "Giles has got the coven working on a spell to remove the chip."
"So I heard." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Vampire hearing, luv. Not a big magic fan, but I wouldn't turn a good spell down about now."
"So you heard our whole conversation?" she asked.
Her hands sat primly on her knees, and he covered one of them with his own. "That Anya is a wise one, more than she lets on." Buffy stared down at their hands. "May come a time I do need the slayer, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Did Finn tell you to just dust me and be done with it?"
"It doesn't matter what he said."
Spike curled a finger under her chin and tipped her face up so he could look into her eyes. "Slayer, you know, it might come to that."
"No!" She pulled her face away from him. "Stop saying things like that. It's time for you to get with the horizontal." She busied herself with removing the shams and decorative pillows from the bed and turning down the covers.
"Buffy."
"I refuse to discuss this. La, la, la, la, la" she sang, her hands over her ears.
Spike gave up with a tired smile and bent down to remove his boots. After getting one off he faltered, and put his hand to his head.
"Again?"
"Not yet. It's coming." She pushed him gently back on the bed, removed his other boot, and then lay down next to him, cradling his head in her arms.
"This is not how I pictured our first time in my bed," she said.
He tightened his arms around her waist. "Me neither." His voice was muffled against her neck. "You told him you wanted to take it out. Not fix it."
"I think it's beyond the fixing at this point. Besides, you don't need it."
"What if I did need it? What if I didn't have a soul?" His head was still buried in her neck, and she pulled back a little so she could see him.
"I know I put you through a lot of pain," she said, tracing the planes of his face with her fingers, "but I could never have stood by and just watched you suffer like this. I hope you believe that." He kissed her then, desperately, hungrily, like it might be their last. And she was so afraid it would be.
He pressed his forehead against hers. "I know William the Bloody should never admit something like this to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I gotta say," he laughed shakily, "I'm a smidge terrified."
She took his face in her hands, gathering what little strength she had left, and tried to give it to him. "I'm here, Spike," she whispered, "I'm here."
TBC
