After Adam's defeat, the spoils of the 314 project are up for grabs. Spike finds himself at the centre of a web of intrigue.

Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy.

Chapter 3: Spike meets the man in charge and realises he's going to need some help.

Spike and Nat entered a well-lit room and for the second time in as many days Spike found himself taken aback, not by what he saw but by what he didn't see. The man seated behind the desk was far from the hatchet-faced corporate type he had been expecting. Instead, the man who faced him was a young with a sunny, open expression. He loped round the table extending his hand, his movements giving away the fact that the body beneath his clothes was as toned and perfect as the face framed by golden curls. All in all, Spike felt as if he was faced with Cupid, if Cupid had ever graduated from his nappy. No, it was not at all what he had been expecting and he stood nonplussed for a fraction of a second until Nat's discreet throat clearing prompted him to put out his hand in return. His fingers were immediately engulfed in the man's warm grasp and his arm pumped up and down enthusiastically.

"So, you're Spike then? Nat here has told me a lot about you."

"All bad, I hope."

"Bad in just the right way. If everything I've heard is true then you're just the man we need on this job, and I'm sure you'll find the terms and conditions very attractive".

Spike replied in what he hoped were enthusiastic tones. "Yeah, I'm very excited about it."

"Great, glad to have you on board. Keep your nose clean and there's big things in store for you. But don't think it'll be a cushy number. It's a new future we're creating and I expect a hundred and ten percent out of all my staff, just like I do of myself. Nat there'll show you the ropes" With that he turned and bounded out of the room. Spike felt exhausted just watching him.

Nat gave a whistle-stop tour of the facility, but after they had passed the nth spotlessly white laboratory his mind began to drift. Plus he was getting hungry - pigs' blood just didn't fill you up the same as the real deal. Noticing his distraction and correctly guessing the root cause, Nat suggested that they drop by the canteen for a bite to eat. Whilst Nat's sense of humour often left much to be desired, on this occasion his pun had been dead on the mark and the canteen turned out to be the rows of holding cells where Spike himself had once been a "guest". The former occupants were long gone and the few cells that were occupied held a rag-tag bunch of humans.

Opening the door of one of the cells, Nat pulled out an underfed and grimy female and thrust her unresisting form in Spike's direction. "Not much of a selection at the moment, but once the testing procedures get underway there'll be plenty of cast-offs to snack on."

"You're forgetting my little problem, mate."

"Not at all."

With blinding speed Nat assumed his game face and ripped the female's throat out. Blood gushed from the ragged wound into his cupped hand. Discarding the body, he held the brimming palm-full in Spike's direction.

A test then...

Spike's gaze locked with Nat's amber gleam for a fraction of second, and during that second he nearly walked away. But this was his chance and he would do what was necessary - if only that. The man would bend his neck, but the demon would be uncowed. Holding fast to his human face, Spike bent and lapped the crimson liquid.

A shock, almost orgasmic in its intensity, shot through him. It had been so long, so very, very long since he had tasted human blood. It may have lacked the rush of raw emotions that came with the kill, but for now it was enough. Spike lost himself in pleasure, returning only when he realised that he was suckling the last traces from Nat's palm. His mouth left the cold skin and he raised his head, dislodging the hand now tangled into his hair.

"Mine"

Spike's eyes met Nat's and held them for a long moment as the air almost crackled with tension. Then he lowered his head, and captured the last smear of blood with a lazy sweep of his tongue.

"Yours"

Nat smiled possessively and Spike reflected that he would not be quite so self-satisfied if he could have heard the unspoken codicil *for as long as necessary, wanker*

Later, on his way back to the crypt, he reflected that his vow to Nat had been a low point in an otherwise successful day. He hadn't had to show deference to anyone since that bastard Angelus, and then he had been wheelchair bound and helpless. He shrugged philosophically - perhaps it wasn't so different now, given his current condition. Anyhow, last time he had defied the odds and triumphed, short lived though that triumph might have been. This time it would all come right, he would get everything that he wanted and it would last as long as he damned well wanted it to.

He continued reviewing the events of the previous night and thought he'd done OK, all things considered. He was on the inside and Nat believed that he had him right where he wanted him. Now all he had to do was keep his eyes and ears open and find out what the suit wanted. Then it would be all plain sailing - goodbye chip, hello fangs in the Slayer's neck.

One thing bothered him, however. The level of technology in that place was incredible and if there were secrets to be had they would be stored electronically. Though he kept it quiet he was no slouch in the computer department, but he could tell that this was way out of his class. Moreover, he suspected that it would take a considerable amount of time and effort to get anything useful out of the system and his duties would hardly allow him to spend hours at the keyboard. He doubted that Nat would buy the old "just having a game of solitaire" routine night after night.

Crap, crap, crap...and crap. The all too familiar swearing began again, until he suddenly halted as a thought struck him. Of course - *he* didn't need to spend his time on the computers; he just needed some help. An operation like that had to be hiring and if he could get the right person in place he'd be home and dry. But who? He could always buy someone, but he'd never be able to trust that they'd stay bought. What he needed was someone who was gullible enough to help him out of the goodness of their heart.

Then as he sifted through the, admittedly limited, candidates for the job he struck pure gold. There was someone who would go to the edge of doom with him if they thought it was the right thing to do and, what was even better, it was someone he could risk with impunity because their destruction would destroy the Slayer.

He threw back his head and laughed. It was all too bloody perfect - what he needed was Willow.