Chapter 16 - A Spanner in the Works

I wipe my face down with a towel, and leave it draped around my neck as I walk to retrieve my cell phone from where I left it. I wonder who'd be interrupting this. It's not as if my number is general knowledge. I smile as I see the display, and put the phone to my ear.

"Sam, honey, what's up?" I know she wouldn't interrupt a training session unless there was a good reason.

"Hi, honey. Sorry to interrupt, but our new orders came through. We're shipping out tonight."

"Where?"

"Sunnydale."

The implications of going back to Sunnydale flood into my mind, and I'm only brought back by Sam's voice in my ear.

"Riley, what is it?"

"Someone here trying to talk to me," I lie. Sam knows about Buffy, of course she does. She knows she's in my past. She just doesn't know how much of my present she occupies too.

"Ok," I continue. "I'll finish things up here and come back. Should be there within an hour."

"Love you, honey," Sam tells me.

"Love you too," I reply automatically.

The session was almost complete, and I dismiss the men I'm training. They look surprised, and well they might. It's a rare thing for them to get away with a short session from me. I head for the showers, strip off and get under the spray.

It's a bad move, because it gives me time to think. I love my wife, I really do. I love her more than I thought I'd be able to love anyone after … after Buffy. I thought I was doing ok. I started to believe that my feelings for Buffy had been exaggerated, made into some sort of fairytale, but I was wrong. Seeing her that last time, I knew it was all real.

The worst part was seeing her with Spike. Imagining what they'd been doing before they fell asleep made me physically sick. And Buffy, she was different. He's changed her in some way, I know he has. When I think about what he's done to her, I want to kill him, slowly and painfully. I would have too, if it hadn't been for Sam. I couldn't let her see how I was feeling.

She noticed though. She knew I wasn't myself. But, my wife's nothing if not resilient. She noticed, she asked gently, and she tried to help me get over it. Obviously I couldn't tell her the whole truth. That I loved Buffy more than I could ever love anyone. That memories of the time we were together are the barometer against which I measure everything in my life. That remembrance of holding her, loving her, making love to her, make every other experience in my life pale into insignificance.

Seeing what he'd done to her, it broke my heart. She was never mine, and now she never can be. He's seen to that. Or maybe the damage was done before him. Maybe it was Angel who made sure a mortal man could never hold her heart.

I remember she started to speak up for him over the eggs business. He told her not to, and she hit him. That's one of the few good memories of that trip. Funny thing is, when he said he was keeping the eggs for a friend, he was telling the truth. He wasn't the doctor. We eventually tracked down the doctor, and he turned out to have distributed the eggs around a dozen or more demons. It took us weeks to find them all. It seems one of the contacts heard we were on our way, and he palmed the eggs off on Spike. Offered to pay him. Didn't even tell Spike the eggs had to be refrigerated. Spike thought the eggs were headed for the menu of some new demon club.

Of course, I never told Buffy what I'd found. The whole eggs fiasco had put a wedge between them, and I wasn't about to remove it. That was the best result of that visit - I managed to split them up.

I finish showering, and pull on my clothes. I head out to the car, and drive home. Sam was calling from her office, but I know she'll be home when I get there. She is, her smile enough to lighten any man's heart. I've said it before, but my wife is the most amazing woman. Her love would be enough to complete any man. Any man who hadn't loved Buffy Summers.

"The orders are here," she says, handing me some folded paper. I open them and read. Sunnydale. Scientific examination of artefacts. An archaeological dig some twenty miles from Sunnydale. A lab being set up in an offshoot of what was the Initiative headquarters. Sam and I to head the investigation of what has been dug up, and any further finds.

I get to the bit at the bottom. Top Secret. No information to be shared with civilians under any circumstances.

"Sam?" I call.

"What is it, honey?" she calls back from the bedroom.

I join her there and watch her pack the bare essentials into a case. I start to do the same, something we've both done so often since we married. Home is just a base to store things until the next mission. Packed, I check the time. We've got an hour before we ship out. Sam's noticed the same thing. She walks towards me, holding me close and kissing me. I react, of course I do. I'm a man, and I do love her.

We fly into Sunnydale early next morning. We're transported directly to our quarters. I didn't realise some of the Initiative base had been left intact. It's not a lot, just some basic labs and living quarters. It's spartan, especially for a couple, but that's also standard. Two, narrow, single beds squeezed into a room intended for one. Just as well we both travel light.

We take time to shower and change before heading for the lab. I'm introduced to Professor Jose Garcia, the archaeologist in charge of the dig. He's a military man too, although he prefers to use his academic qualification. Fortunately for him, his CO seems to tolerate his eccentricity. He shows us a map of the area, pointing out the dig site. It's unusual, because it was actually discovered when an old gold mine collapsed. The mine had been disused for a long time, and it took a road with it when the underground supports gave way. A couple of odd looking things were found there, and somehow, they came to the attention of someone left over in the area from Initiative days. He alerted the military, and they took over. I look at the finds so far. There're a couple of effigies that look like demons I've come across in various parts of the world. There are some other things, things I can't begin to imagine the purpose of.

"Is this it?" I ask.

"Oh, dear me, no. There's much more. What you see here is more or less what we picked up within the mine itself. Because of what we found, we started excavating the area around the mine - finding our way through rock that hasn't been disturbed in thousands of years. We're bringing in new finds every day."

"I'd like to visit the site."

"Of course, of course," he gushed in reply. "Whenever you wish. Tomorrow?"

I look at Sam who's looking carefully at something black, shiny, apparently metal. She looks up and nods.

"Yeah, tomorrow sounds good. That'll give us time to have an initial look here. What time?"

"We normally send a truck there at eight. Would that be convenient?"

I agree, and he goes back to his office to continue whatever he was doing.

"What do you think?" I ask Sam. I majored in psychology but I did a lot of Initiative work on Demon physiology with the inherent chemistry and biology, but Sam's archaeology major. She's the expert in this sort of thing.

"I've never seen anything like it. It doesn't look old, but where it was buried, there's no way it could be recent. I guess we'll start with a standard chemical and physical analysis and take it from there."

The rest of the day passes in meetings with the rest of the small team that's been assembled. It's late when Sam and I make it back to our quarters. Without comment, Sam starts to rearrange the furniture, pushing the two beds together. I join in, doing my best to make the best of a bad job. One thing's for sure. Our sex life is of necessity going to have to be fairly basic until further notice.

The drive to the dig site next morning is spent listening to Garcia describing the layout. We're going to have to go a fair way underground. The dig's going lower, and they haven't found any slow down in the find rate. We don the hard hats required, and head down. There were another six people on the truck, and they all start to work immediately, carrying on from where they left off the previous day. The work is meticulous, tiny amounts of earth being removed to reveal a number of unidentified objects.

We spend some time watching and listening, or at least I do. Sam is itching to get to work and does so. I watch her as she brushes earth away from something that was discovered a few days previously, but which no one had had found time to excavate before. It's a curved shape, but there's no indication of its actual size.

Sam reckons she'd be best to work at the site for the moment, and I agree. There may come a time when she'd be better back at the lab, but we're not there yet. I arrange transport back to Sunnydale. On impulse, I ask the driver to drop me in the centre of town. I tell myself I'm just getting my bearings, but it's more than that. Last time I was here, Buffy was working in a burger joint. I take a look inside, but don't see her. I cringe when I remember how she was then. Working for minimum wages in that place.

I pass the Magic Box. Giles' store. It looks a mess, and there's a hand-written note in the window. 'Closed for Renovation' it says.

I bend my steps towards the Hellmouth. It calls to me in a way I can't understand. I know the school's no longer there. I heard Buffy tell the story of the ascension and how she and her friends stopped it, but, even when it's a wreck, it's still the Hellmouth.

I can see it while I'm still some distance away. They've rebuilt it. Why would they rebuild a school over the Hellmouth? I shake my head, unable to comprehend the folly that is Sunnydale town planning.

I give up my wandering around town and head back to the lab. I spend the afternoon reading my way through what's already known about what's been found, and suggesting further tests where that seems appropriate. It's getting dark when I get a call from Sam to say she's going for a drink with some of her fellow-diggers. She promises not to be late.

I consider what to do. There was a time when darkness meant patrolling - with the Initiative, or with Buffy. I have to admit, I really feel in need of a work out. I get myself out of the headquarters and walk the short distance to the nearest cemetery.

It feels good. It's been a while since our last bit of active duty. We've spent the past three months at the base, training new recruits, and I've been getting rusty. I stake a couple of vampires easily, and remember watching Buffy at work.

I must have been out for a while, I don't know. I don't feel any inclination to look at my watch. I hear a voice, and I'm drawn to it, unsure of its source at first. As I get closer, I wonder that I didn't recognise it before. It's her. It's Buffy, and she's doing her usual ongoing discussion with a vamp before she finishes him off. I stand out of the way, just watching the show. I love to watch her fight. I always did. It's only as she finally stakes her opponent that I see she's not alone. Spike's watching her, sitting on a raised tombstone, swinging his legs. He's giving her a critique of her fighting style, and she's listening.

"You're still giving away your intentions when you use your left. You're lucky he was just a fledgling, or he'd 've spotted it."

"You think you could do better, do you?" she asks.

"'Course I could. Next one, I'll show you."

I'm frozen to the spot. That's one thing I didn't expect. They're just talking, patrolling together, but the fact that Spike's still able to patrol is what surprises me. I was sure she'd have staked him by now. Or if not her, Giles or Xander. Xander. I remember him. I liked him. Had his head screwed on right about most things.

I decide to follow them. I've got to know what's happening. They patrol a bit longer, but it seems like a quiet night. They decide to give up and head home. They go to her house. They chat outside for a while. It's different from what I remember. It's more civil and less intimate than before. She invites him in, and he declines. Says something about meeting someone. She goes inside, calling for Dawn as she does so.

I keep my distance, hiding behind a large tree, but he's not fooled.

He walks towards me, slowly, but without hesitation.

"What're you doing back in good old Sunnydale?"

The voice sounds civil, but there's a background of malice that's unmistakable.

"That's classified," I tell him.

"Is it now? Well, you go about your business, and let Buffy go about hers. She doesn't need you snooping around right now. She's got enough to worry about without you turning up."

"Oh, and you're doing what, exactly? Still pretending to help? Still wanna be part of the Scoobies? You never will be, and do you know why? Because you're disgusting. You're evil. I should have staked you last time I saw you. But, do you know why I'm not going to do it now? Because, your existence is so pitiful, I think it'd be a kindness to take it from you."

He's looking at me, and the expression has none of the assurance that Spike has always had.

"Hm, not bad," he answers. "I've heard it done better, though. Even the Whelp can do it better. Listen, mate. I know what I am. I know what I've done, and I've got to live with that. Tell me though, can you live with what you've done?"

With that, he turns and walks away. I can't help thinking it would be so much more dramatic if he still wore that long leather coat he loved so much. Even so, he leaves me standing there, wondering what he means.