TITLE: " Garden of Eden "
AUTHOR: LilHairyEyeball
FEEDBACK: Gimme gimme. Just be gentle.
SUMMARY: Alternate Season Four fic, stemming from Something Blue onwards.
SPOILERS: Up through Season 4
RATING: Giving it an R rating, in case I get frisky. Which I tend to do.
DISCLAIMER: Nobody buys me good presents, so I steal other peoples
---
This was a bad idea. It was a very bad idea indeed.
"This is a bad idea," announced Spike, before resuming his pacing along Giles' living room.
Giles sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yes. I understand that, I do. You, Xander and Willow had all pointed out what a bloody God awful idea this is. However, I am not the one in control here, and Buffy has decided that working with the Initiative is the only key to discovering their true motives."
It was like talking to children sometimes, and Spike was more annoying that either Willow or Xander at the moment. Well, there was a thought that left a man pondering the meaning of life. Why the vampire was getting himself worked up was a mystery. Giles assumed any knowledge they could gain against the commandos would be in Spike's best interest, but apparently not.
Spike suddenly stopped pacing, with a loud sigh.
"Well, if the Slayer's going to be getting buddy buddy with all the soldier boys, I may as well kill some time… and some demons, I suppose. I'll be on patrol."
And with that, Spike was gone in
a flurry of black leather.
---
Okay. So maybe Spike had a point. Buffy was really starting to think that this whole undercover thing was one of her worst ideas yet. She sucked at undercover, yet her she was, sucking up to Professor Walsh, who was giving off a seriously wicked vibe right now. When she'd been beeped to come to the caves, she was starting to question just about everything.
"It's a small job," said Professor Walsh. "Reconnaissance. Probably a waste of a Slayer's abilities, but my boys are on assignment so I…"
Buffy nodded, knowing something did not add up, but deciding to play along, as see where this took her.
"We have a reading of a class three sub terrestrial moving through the sewer tunnels just on the edge of town," said Walsh, as she illustrated the location on a map.
"Class three?" asked Buffy. Damn wacky Initiative labels. If they gave her a code name, she might just laugh in their faces. Unless it was something cool, like "Ice Warrior." Nah, she was pretty sure she'd just laugh.
"It's a low-level threat. Minimal aggression. Meager defenses," explained Walsh with a sigh. "They barely show up on the scanner and occasionally turn out to be raccoons." She continued, as she handed Buffy a gun.
Ah yes, because she'd already faced the mocking about using a pointy stick to kill things. Slaying snob.
With
that, Walsh handed Buffy a cam-com unit, and sent her on her way.
Buffy got that ooky feeling from the Professor, one that she only
got when she knew something was seriously screwy. She needed to warn
the others, just in case.
---
She conveniently had to pass Spike's crypt on the way to the
raccoon location, and Spike was as good of a person to tell as any, right? He could relay the message for her. It was a time-saver, Giles would be proud. Yeah, proud of her ability to bullshit her way out of everything. God, she was so transparent.
"Spike? You in here?" she called, as she entered the crypt. And he was. Sitting in his damn comfy chair, with nothing but the flicker of the television screen to illuminate his hangout. He turned slowly, a slight smile playing on his features.
"Slayer, you're right on time. The Manchurian Candidate is on in 20, you'll love it." He said, as he patted the dusty chair next to him.
"Sorry Spike, not a social call. Thing to do, things to kill," she said, tapping her thigh with her new tazer gun to illustrate her point.
"Oh," was Spike's simple reply. He looked at her weaponry, with a raised eyebrow, indicating she could probably explain her sudden change in weaponry.
"Yeah, Walsh has sent me out after…something. I'm pretty sure I'm being set up. And all the soldiers? Out tonight. All of them, which does not bode well. I want you to go to Giles. You'll be safe, and you can let him know what's up with me, and…"
She didn't have time to finish the sentence, and Spike had launched from his chair, his face a picture of fury.
"And what? Are you bleeding insane, woman? You're fully aware that it's a trap, so you're going to go prancing in there?" Spike exclaimed.
Buffy frowned. Oh yeah, go Mr. Pointing out the Obvious.
"Yes. I have to know what's going on. I have to be sure that Walsh is as crooked as I think she is. I have to do it, and I can handle myself…unlike other people in this room."
"Oh now Slayer, that was low. A bloke can't change what's been forced on him, and he sure as hell can't change the past." Said Spike, relaxing slightly. He knew it. He knew damn well the Slayer had him over a barrel, and he knew he had to go to the Watchers. If only to warn him of his charge's bloody stupidity.
"Fine. I'm gone. But if you're not at the Watcher's by sunrise, I'll…" Spike trailed off, not sure of a good threat to drive his point home.
"You'll what Spike?" asked Buffy "Tell Giles? Ooo, I'm scared!"
"No, I'll tell your mother, that you're walking into traps, all willy-nilly!" announced Spike triumphantly.
Buffy's face fell. That was dirty. They both knew it.
"Fine,"
sighed the Slayer. "Let's go."
---
As
soon as that gate clanged shut behind her, Buffy knew it was show
time.
---
As
soon as Spike felt the bullet enter his shoulder, he knew he was
well and truly buggared.
---
Spike arrived at the Watchers and pounded on the door.
"Soldiers boys are out in force. I've been trying to keep them
off my scent. Run them in circles. But they keep coming." Exhaled Spike, trying to disentangle himself from the tarp he'd used as protection.
"Why should I help you?" asked Giles, with a note of humor in his voice.
"Ooh! Because I helped you! When you turned into that Fyarl demon, I helped you, didn't I?" said Spike smugly.
"And that was out of the, um, evilness of your heart?" needled Giles.
"Oh, hell no," replied Spike with a laugh "I made you pay me…You right bastard." He paused when the realization hit him. Giles was going to make him pay! For helping the helpless? Where was the man's moral code? He was supposed to be chock full of the stuff. He wouldn't have bloody well taken the stuff, except for saving some Big Bad face. Dammit. Digging around in his pocket, he pulled out a pile of crumpled bills. "That's all that's left. I spent the rest on blood and smokes, which I'll never see again."
Giles took the money, a look of distain on his face, as he attempted to smooth out the wrinkles. Spike sighed, fat lot of help he was going to be. Glancing over at Harris and his bird, Spike smiled. No, smiling didn't affect the whelp enough. He beamed at them.
"Ah,
come on! Circle the
wagons. Tend to the
wounded here. No time for layabouts." He said with a wink.
---
Buffy was sick. Sick to death of meeting people who seemed to want her dead. Very rarely did they ever change their plans, except for Spike, and possibly Harmony who simply knew better. Now Walsh had
locked her in a sewer with two demons she was positive she'd seen in the Initiative labs. Oh yeah, Professor Walsh was going to see some serious results from this, but not the ones she was expecting.
When her gun refused to fire, Buffy quickly dropped it in favor of the wicked sharp dagger Spike had made her bring. Gotta love the foresight on Spike. And that's all she loved. Honest.
Annoyed
with her own treacherous thoughts, Buffy decided killing these
demons would be some mighty fine therapy.
---
Spike was not faring much better himself. First the whelp had carved into his skin, in an attempt to remove the bullet. Now, thanks to the discovery that it was a sodding tracking device, Red was
here with her wonky mojo, while Giles tried to remove it.
Didn't the watcher know that no matter how gentle you were, digging around in a bloke's shoulder still hurt? Apparently he did, considering the booze that had suddenly appeared before him. Well, all right then, he'd cope. Then he'd have to remember to tell them about Buffy. It was very important. And he was getting very tired.
Giles finally fished the transmitter from the wound, and quickly passed it to Xander, who ran around for a few moments, before heading to the bathroom to flush it. It would head away from Giles' apartment, and hopefully lead the soldiers in another direction. God bless the miracle of the modern waste system.
Willow was carefully sewing Spike back up, with the vampire finally gaining some coherent thoughts. His first was of Buffy.
"We've got to go," he said with a wince, as he sat upright.
"Spike!" scolded Willow, who grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down again. "If you don't stay still, this will leave an uglier scar that you're already picturing.
Spike winced at that, but there were more important things to worry about, that a piddly battle scar.
"Buffy. She's out there. Mixed up in God knows what. We have to find her!" protested Spike, causing both Spike and Xander to groan simultaneously.
"Buffy will be fine. She'll check in shortly, I'm sure." Said Giles. "You however are another matter. Lord knows why I'm telling you this," he said with a shake of his head, "it's for your own good. As long as the Initiative is in operation it's not safe for you here."
"No." came the affirmation from the doorway. It was Buffy. She looked tired, and beyond dishevelled, but had the grave expression of someone who had quit playing games. Spike had the overwhelming urge to go to her, but the tightened grip on his shoulder indicated that Willow might not be a fan of the idea.
"It's not safe for any of us," said Buffy. "Maggie just tried to kill me, and she's got demons who work for her."
The gang went silent at the news. They knew the Initiative were a little less than above board, but the had no idea things would get so serious, so fast.
Xander rushed to Buffy's side, to check for injuries, but was swatted away by Buffy.
"We need to stock up on weapons, and find a safe place to gather ourselves. We're in no state to fight these guys ourselves, but I'll be dammed if I'm letting them take us down yet."
With a few nods and murmurs, the gang started organizing themselves.
Buffy strode over to Spike, a questioning look on her face, as Willow finished the stitches.
"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little run in with our boys. So what's the plan. Goldilocks? Where are we headed?"
Buffy smiled.
"That's where I need you."
