Chapter 3 - Emerging into Reality
The phone rings, and I'm wakened from the sort of drowse you wish would last forever. You know the feeling. You're not sure even you can move. I don't know for sure how long it's been ringing when I stretch out an arm to pick it up. Of course, I had to extricate said arm from around Spike first.
"Yes?"
"Buffy, it's Anya. Did I wake you? Because, if I did, you'd better get your ass moving quickly. There's someone on their way over to talk to you about Riley and hostile 17."
My sleep and pleasure befuddled brain takes several seconds to understand the words. That's not helped by the way Spike's moving his hand around my body. "Riley. Hostile 17," I parrot.
I'm brought to full wakefulness by Spike's reaction to my words. He tenses, and rolls onto the other side of the bed. I know he's remembering the things the Initiative did to him.
"What happened? Why's someone coming to talk about Riley?"
There's a pause, and I know she's wondering what to tell me, I can almost hear the measuring and weighing going on in her mind. She comes to a decision.
"He was at the shop yesterday. He saw what happened to Dawn. He said the same thing killed Sam, and he was responsible."
I'm trying to process that. "Why don't I remember him there?"
"Buffy, Dawn was being annihilated. You wouldn't 've known if the building had fallen down."
I'm nodding, then realise that's not exactly an effective means of communicating on the phone. "How was he responsible?" She did say that, didn't she?
"He was doing some tests on something. He called it a sphere."
"The Orb of Fire. Are you telling me he destroyed the Orb of Fire?"
"He wasn't too clear, but I think that's what he meant."
"But ..."
"Buffy, you don't have time for this now. You've got to work out what to tell whoever comes."
"Ok," I manage. "Any idea of how long we've got?"
"No, I think someone different's coming to you. I just told the one I saw the basics of Riley's visit yesterday. He came, he didn't make much sense and he left."
"Thanks, Anya," I reply, pulling myself out of bed.
Spike's already up and pulling on his jeans. He's watching me, though, waiting for the details.
"Anya's just had a visit from some MPs looking for Riley. She says someone's on their way here too. She said Sam's dead, because of the Orb of Fire, and that Riley was responsible for destroying it."
Spike's looking bereft again. I mean, I know how he feels. For a few hours it was almost bearable, now, it's all back. And if Riley's responsible ...
"And they know about Hostile Bloody Seventeen,' he says bitterly.
Spike's pulling on a shirt now, but the tension in his body is evident in every move. I'm torn between the need to dress and the desire to make him relax. I snake my arms around him, but he shrugs me away. I'm hurt, but I tell myself he's being sensible. We need to dress and be ready before anyone gets here.
"You stay up here," I offer. "If they know about Hostile 17, you'll be safer up here."
"No."
"What do you mean no?"
"It's a simple word. Means the opposite of yes. I'm going to be with you. I'm finished with hiding from the Initiative. We'll both pass a cursory check, and beyond that, you're no more human than I am."
I nod. "And then?"
"Then, I find Riley Finn, and I kill him."
It's said with such coldness that I feel an icy draught around my heart. But, something inside me isn't repulsed. It's swelling within me, supporting the feeling.
"No."
He looks at me. I get the feeling he's surprised at the expression on my face.
"No," I repeat. "Then we find Riley Finn and kill him."
There's no joy in the smile he gives me. There's acceptance, there's agreement, but no joy.
I dress quickly, pulling a brush through my hair and scraping it back off my face. I hear a knock at the door, and I run from the room, with Spike right behind me.
I open the door, and there are two people there. They're in uniform, and one of them is flashing some sort of ID at me. He's tall, dark, bulky and instantly recognisable for what he is. His companion's standing behind him. She's average height, slim, mid-brown hair, also in uniform.
"I'm Major Simon Westgate, and this is Captain Angela Dawson. We're investigating some recent events, and, in particular the disappearance of one Riley Finn. We believe you may be able to shed some light on our investigation."
"And what other events are you investigating?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss that," he manages. "May we come in?" I stand back, and gesture them inside. I show them into the lounge, and Spike's already there, lounging on the sofa, everything about his posture a challenge.
"Good day, Miss Summers, Mr... ?" he begins, looking at Spike. Spike says nothing, so I intercede.
"William Prescott."
"Mr. Prescott."
He holds out a hand to Spike, but Spike ignores it. I suppose he's had longer to get used to ignoring the social rituals humans use to keep things civilised.
They both sit, I drop down onto the sofa beside Spike, and Westgate pulls out a notebook from his brief case before continuing.
"As I said, I'm investigating a couple of things. There was an ... incident, yesterday at a local military installation. I'm not at liberty to discuss the details, but I can tell you there were a number of fatalities. One of them was Riley Finn's wife, Sam."
He stops, obviously looking for a reaction. He doesn't get one, unless you count the way Spike clenches his fists.
"Finn was the only person who observed the incident and actually survived, and we are anxious to debrief him, but I'm sorry to say he's disappeared. He was seen walking towards town, and going into a local store."
He consults his notebook and checks the detail.
"The Magic Box. He was seen entering this store, but there have been no reported sightings of him after that. Were you present when he arrived?"
I take a deep breath. As I do, I notice Dawson. She's watching Spike closely. I can see that Spike's noticed, and there's a puzzled look on his face. Enough of that, I need to answer the question since Spike seems to have decided to keep quiet.
"Yes, I believe we were there. I, we were rather upset at the time. Spike and I, we'd had a row, and we were trying to sort things out between us. It was a bit intense, but, yeah, he was there. He didn't make much sense. I think he said something about Sam, but I really didn't take it in."
"He told you his wife was dead, and you didn't take it in?"
"He wasn't making much sense. I thought maybe he'd been drinking or something like that."
I can see he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't press the issue.
"And you, Mr. Prescott?"
"The same. Like she said, all I was aware of was Buffy."
Westgate turns back towards me.
"And, when did Finn leave?"
"I'm not sure, I just didn't pay him much attention."
He glances at Spike who provides a nod of agreement.
"I see. Tell me, Miss Summers. What exactly was your relationship with Riley Finn?"
"There was no relationship. We were together for a while. He left. I've only seen him once since then unless you count very recently. He came back with Sam."
"And recently?"
"He and Sam came round here. We ... we argued. I found out he'd been lying to me about something. Something important."
"Can you be more specific?"
"It was a private matter."
"I see."
"No, you don't bloody see, mate." Spike's accent seems more grating than usual. "She said it was private, so it's none of your business."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Prescott, but if it has some bearing on the matter I'm investigating, then it is not private."
"It had nothing to do with your investigation." Spike's voice has more of the nature of a growl than a human voice. I flash him a look, and place my hand over his fist, pleading with him to calm down.
"Very well," Westgate continues. "I'll accept that for the moment. Now, Miss Summers, perhaps you can answer a question that's been intriguing me since I picked up this case. You tell me that you and Finn were together, but he left, and there was no relationship. Can you tell me, then, why it is, that even when he got married, he kept your name as a contact in case anything happened to him? He removed his parents from his list, and replaced them with his wife, but you remained. Why would he do that if there was no relationship?"
What can I say to that?
"I had no idea," I manage.
"You don't know why he wanted you to be informed if something happened to him?"
"No, he didn't tell me I was a contact for that. Even when we were together."
"I see. Miss Summers, I'm going to ask one further question. Please answer this truthfully, as any attempt to thwart this investigation could have serious consequences for you. Do you know the whereabouts of Riley Finn?"
"No," I state.
"Are you sure?" He's looking at me, trying to detect a lie. "Are you certain you're not just afraid Mr. Prescott won't like the idea that Finn turned to you?"
Spike buts in. "You're bloody right Mr. Prescott wouldn't like that idea. But it doesn't matter, because she doesn't know where he is. Got it?" I can see Spike is one moment away from attacking Westgate, but doing his best to keep calm.
Westgate ignores Spike, and he's still looking at me.
"I've got no information on where he is. He left the Magic Box, and I haven't seen him since. Unless he's still got friends at UCS, I've no idea of who else he might have turned to. And, the friends I knew about were all Initiative, and I'm sure you know them better than I do."
Westgate sighs deeply. He's obviously far from satisfied with what I've told him, but, short of calling me a liar, there's not much he can do right now.
There's a short pause, and Westgate speaks again. "The other matter I'm investigating came to light as a result of some papers we found in Finn's quarters. In those he details the fact that he met a known fugitive, a monster code-named Hostile 17. He claimed he was living in Sunnydale, under your protection, when he visited some months ago. More recent entries imply that he is still around, and still under your protection. Aside from the incident I mentioned earlier, I am concerned that Finn has somehow fallen victim to this hostile, and I want to know where he is. Do you know the whereabouts of Hostile 17?"
He's looking at me, so I answer him. "No."
"I have to say, that the records on this creature, this vampire, describe him as being rather like you, Mr. Prescott. And, finding you with Miss Summers, I have to say it all seems curious. I'd like to try a simple experiment, if you will? Mr. Prescott, would you like to accompany me outside? I understand that vampires have a certain intolerance to sunlight, and it would be a simple way to prove that it is all just a coincidence."
Spike growls. "Don't see why I should have to prove anything to you," he mutters.
"In that case," Westgate replies with a smug grin, "I'll really have to insist that you accompany me back to HQ for questioning."
"Not going anywhere, but if it'll get you off my back, I'll take a walk in the sunshine for you." Spike makes it clear that he's doing this under duress, but I heave a sigh of relief.
The two men walk outside together, leaving Dawson with me.
"How long have you known Mr. Prescott?" she asks, with an air of it having no importance.
"Don't know. A bit less than five years?" I reply, mentally adding it up.
"And, does he live here?"
"I really don't see how my living arrangements are your business, but no, he has his own apartment."
She nods, and manages to give the impression that she's understood much more than I intended to tell her.
The two men return, and Westgate's apologising to Spike. "You must just have a similar face," he mutters, turning to his colleague. She stands, and the two of them walk to the door. Spike remains in the lounge, leaving me to show them out.
Once we're at the door, Westgate speaks quietly, obviously to say something not for Spike's ears. "Very well, we'll leave this matter. I'll leave you my cell number. Please call me if you have contact with Finn. It's vitally important that we speak to him. For his own sake, too. Man's just lost his wife, and he probably saw it. He's going to need counselling."
When they're gone, I return to the lounge to find Spike prowling the length of the room.
"Spike," I say, softly, not fully understanding his mood.
"She's one of them," he growls.
"One of who?"
"She was one of the ones who put the bloody chip in my head."
Instinctively, I approach him, putting my arms around his waist. He stiffens, and for a second I think he's going to pull away, but he doesn't. Instead he puts his chin on the top of my head, and I feel him take a shuddering breath.
"Seeing her, didn't even remember her until I saw her. Sent me back to right after the chip. Feeling helpless. The rage inside."
"It's ok, Spike. We'll do what we have to. And, we'll do it together."
He nods. "We will, but, .."
He pulls away. "Sorry, Buffy. I need, I need some time. I need to sort things out in my own head. I can't, not with you here."
With that, he's gone. I hear his car start up. Alone, I feel the sorrow descending on me again. Dawn's gone, and the peace I felt lying in his arms this morning suddenly seems so long ago. I curl myself up on the sofa and the tears start again.
