Crossing into unchipped country (10/?) by dutchbuffy2305

Rating: R

Timeline: Around AtS 5.09 or 5.10

Author's note: Thanks to my wonderful betas, mommanerd, meko00, LadyAnne and Ayinhara.

Author's website:

Feedback: Yes, please, to dutchbuffy2305@yahoo.co.uk

Spike emerges from the dim hall, which seemed hushed but had as much susurrating background noise as a beach, into a brightly lit stark white interior. Computer screens on worktables line the walls and shackled vamps sit typing busily. You'd have to shackle most vampires to make them do data entry instead of killing and partying, Spike reckons. He prefers a simpler approach. He just kills a great big computer nerd and let him do all day what he likes best, namely sit behind the computer. Trick looks around proudly at the modern conveniences.

"Committing Internet crime?" Slayer says, a sneer in her voice.

Mr. Trick ignores her completely. Spike decides to take pity on the fuming Slayer and says, "Nice set-up. Yours?"

Mr. Trick smiles a wide toothy smile and his gold incisor keeps flickering as he talks enthusiastically. "I'm making so much money doing my thing on the web, this setup and everything be legal now. The big man don't get that these are not the old days, when you could get away with just inspiring terror. Government could just drop a bomb on this factory, we'd go poof. But it's legal, see, so they won't. The big man can get his mind around cars, just about, but he don't like electricity, never mind the Internet. Works just fine."

The pug faced vamp on the right gives him the finger behind his back. It makes her chains rattle and Mr. Trick is on her in a flash. "I don't like insubordination," he says silkily, "fucks up productivity."

Spike doesn't see how he does it, but the vamp falls apart silently and dust rains on the keyboard.

"Damn," Mr. Trick says. "Vampire dust is hell on keyboards. I go through keyboards something terrible. Call up a replacement from the holding tank," he instructs one of the other data vamps. "Make it quick."

Spike likes this Mr. Trick. He should get one of his own, let him run Sunnydale operations. He follows the vampire through another door. The cell into which he emerges closes in on him like a damp pillow clamped across his mouth, stiflingly soft and clammy. A middle aged, dun haired man sits at a small table, writing with a quill on a thick stack of parchment sheets. One of his legs is shackled to the wall with a long chain. Kakistos is really big with the shackling, he must be so popular with his workforce.

Mr. Trick greets the man by cuffing him sharply about the ears. "Got a customer for you, my man. Sit up straight and listen good. Kakistos want what Mr. the Bloody is offering so you better cough up the magic pronto this time."

The man looks up slowly, ignoring his bleeding ear. Buffy guffaws softly near Spike's ear. The magician looks right past him, sending a wide mirthless smile at the Slayer. They know each other? The wariness and enmity they broadcast reassure him a little. Even if they're both human, they don't seem to feel like natural allies. Good. He doesn't want the Slayer to do a Bounty on him.

The Slayer's body language has been all over the place anyway since they fucked each other senseless in that motel room. One moment she's sending out come closer, fuck me vibes, the next inute she's all cold eye, I'm about to stake you, you horrible creep. Confuses a bloke alright. Sometimes a girl means no, apparently, even when she's throwing him on the bed and riding him like he's Black Beauty. Someone gave her quite an education. Never mind about that, they only need each other as long as their quest lasts.

"Mr. The Bloody. Ethan Rayne. What can I do for you?" the Magician says.

Spike grabs the other chair and sits down without waiting for an invitation. "Call me Spike. I need to find out how operate a magic device. Can you help me with that?"

Ethan shrugs and raises and lowers his sandy eyebrows. "Probably. Should I want to?"

Mr. Trick shakes his head. "Dudes, don't even try to make deals with each other. You be surrounded by hundreds of mean hungry vampires, there is no point. I'll even leave, I'm so not scared of whatever you can cook up."

He leaves. Ethan sighs. "He's right. Janus knows I'm more than interested in improving my situation, but I haven't managed to wangle my way out of this over the past five years , so….Let's get down to business."

Spike leans back and balances his fingertips together so he can think better. "I need to open a transdimensional portal to a specific dimension. I have a device that's capable of it but I don't know how to work it."

Ethan nods. "Show me."

Buffy nods at Spike. He doesn't need her permission, thank you. He gets the plastic bag from his duster and unwraps the portal opener.

Ethan's eyes narrow and he picks up the shiny bracelet with his feathered pen. "Interesting. I can make this work. Which dimension do you want and what do you want to do in there?"

Spike's eyes meet Buffy's briefly. "Slayer here's been exchanged with someone else; she's from that dimension originally.  She wants to get back."

"Really? Well, it is true that you can't just travel between dimensions, there is always an exchange. The exchange can be controlled, but if you don't do that, the universe grabs the closest equivalent from that dimension automatically."

Spike looks thoughtful. "So if I wanted to travel to another dimension, what would happen?"

"If there was a Spike or something like it in the target dimension, he or it would be exchanged for you and end up at your starting point."

"And if the Spike in that dimension was dead, for example? As in dust in the wind?"

Ethan's brow furrows and he thinks for a few moments. "Tricky. An undefined situation. You could end up in hell, or in limbo, or end up not existing at all, depending on what happens to vampires in that universe. In that case, you'd better to do a special spell to define something else to exchange. Your weight in steer manure or something like that."

"Very funny, Rayne."

"Not really. You must appease the Gatekeeper of the gate you're going through. He's the one that keeps track of the balance. There's one for every portal between the universes, an infinite amount of them. If you weren't a vamp, a drop of blood would do it. If you don't keep him happy, he'll go for your soul."

"What does a gatekeeper look like?" Spike asks idly, watching Ethan's hands arrange spell supplies deftly and competently.

"Great big black toad-like things, voice like an avalanche."

"Oops," the Slayer squeaks.

Yeah, he was thinking something along those same lines. Great. They pissed off a gatekeeper? He tells Ethan about their Iowa encounter.

Ethan makes an amused noise. "You messed with a gatekeeper? Good job. I don't know if they are in communication with each other, but if I were you I wouldn't travel through the interstices more than strictly necessary… "

"Why don't you start doing the magic? Return the Slayer here to her dimension, and let me go along."

"What? No way. You think I'm going to let you loose in my dimension? Forget it," Buffy says firmly.

He can hear her heart pounding away. What is she thinking, silly bint, that it's a declaration of eternal love?

Ethan grins that too wide grin again. It doesn't reach his dark deep eyes. "Miss Summers, so nice to meet you again. I'm a little confused here. Who am I doing this deal with? You or your charming swain?"

The Slayer blushes.  Blushing is good, all that lovely blood flooding about. Would it taste any different if he were to bite her pink cheeks right now? More heated, full of excited hormones?

"We're equal partners in this venture, Ethan. And it's Ms. Summers."

Ethan inclines his head graciously. "Do forgive me; I forget my American manners, surrounded as I am by people from other eras. Many of whom, by the way, were colleagues of yours once, now sadly limited in their freedom."

Spike gets it, of course, and he hopes the Slayer won't, but then her eyes snap open wide and she goes after the words like a dog after a bone. "Colleagues? What do you mean? Slayers?" He sees her get it. "All the shackled vamps are former Slayers?"  

Spike tries to count how many he saw. Five hundred feet of factory wall, a vamp every six or seven feet? The mind boggles.

Rayne is obviously enjoying the Slayer's discomfiture and grins like a shark, and not the vegetarian kind either. "I bet my beloved Rupert and his council mates never saw fit to tell you just how many Slayers ended up in Kakistos' court, did they, Buffy?"

The Slayer clenches her teeth and the grinding is so loud even the magician must be able to hear it. She jerks her head at Spike. She wants to talk. Spike gets up and starts towards her. He doubles back and takes the device out of Ethan's hands and sees surprised approval on her face. Bugger it, he knows perfectly well he's no slouch, but it is annoying that it surprises the Slayer so. The chip thing must have ruined the other's brains or something.

"Spike," the Slayer begins tightly. "We have to do something. Free Faith and those poor Slayers. We can't allow that creep to torture them and…"

Spike casts his eyes to heaven.  "Slayer, for God's sake, they are vampires, and have been for fuck knows how long. There's no bleeding point in doing anything for them. They won't thank you for it, they'll just kill you."

"Ethan could free them!"

"You'd free a cartload of psychotic vampires? Are you out of your mind?"

"No, you're right, we should kill them, that would be the kindest thing."

Is that what she thinks? That being a vampire is torture? "Wanna give me a merciful death, Slayer?" He extends his arms and crooks his head aside. "Go on then. Why wait?"

The Slayer looks cornered. "Not you. You're…never mind. Don't sidetrack me.  We'll promise to free him, if he programs the device and frees all the ex-Slayers. I'm betting they'll go straight for Kakistos and give us an opportunity to escape in the confusion."

Spike whistles. She's on to something. "Slayer, I take it all back. This is just nifty. But, um, what about the magician? Got the impression you were old enemies. Or does he get a free pass because he's human?"

She shrugs. "Evil or not, in my book he ranks way below Kakistos on the evil scale. Win some, lose some. Should he happen to come to some harm between here and the door, I won't shed a tear about it."

"Right. Let's do it. Device, protection spell for me, free the Slayer vamps."

"Spike, you're not coming with me…" the Slayer starts, but gives up halfway.

He'll persuade her yet, but they have to get some more pressing concerns to take care of first.

"Ethan," the Slayer says without preamble, "could your magic dissolve your chains?"

Ethan flicks his fingers and the chains disappear. He flicks them again and they're back. He crosses his arms and looks at them with a superior little half smile. "Not a problem. It's the after I'm more concerned about."

Spike winks at Buffy. "Neat little trick, Mr. Sunshine. Can you do the same to a specific set of chains in the factory?"

Ethan leans back. "Possibly. My question always is, what are the benefits to me?"

The Slayer leans forward aggressively into his face. "How about your life and your freedom? That's about as much as you can expect!"

Spike sighs inwardly and has to exercise some prime self-control not to react. Will the fucking Slayer please stop interfering with his delicately balanced negotiations? She has no concept of the give and take that can exist between opponents. It could be vital to allow the magician to save some face, but what does she do? Spell it out brutally and deliver some none too subtle threats. He never had this with Dru; whatever she said could always be written off to her insanity, if it happened to make sense, so much the better.

"What she says, Mr. Magoo. You create the confusion, we help you get out, for the rest you're on your own."

Ethan nods. "Fair enough. But how will I know Ms. Summers is not going to wreak vengeance for my past trespasses?"

"Slayer?"

The Slayer shrugs. "This universe is not my responsibility. I'll leave you to the Slayer in residence."

"All right. I'll do it. Hand me the device."

Spike gets the bag from his duster again, but the Slayer stops him. "Ethan, lemme tell you about your present fate in my world," she says, and her voice is as hard and clear as glass. "You're in a government prison. No one knows you're there and you'll never get out. Just a little hint not to go gallivanting off on your own through the multiverse."

"I'm an honorable man," Ethan says, but doesn't even bother to put any sincerity in his voice. "I'd never do something like that. Anyway, we can't activate it in here. The whole building is shielded and also impenetrable to magic because of all the magnetic fields. Computer cabling."

"Just so we know that," Spike says and goes to stand close behind Ethan while he works. He starts making a protective circle from little pots and vials he gets from cupboards all over the room and starts scribbling spells, muttering multi-syllabic words under his breath.

The Slayer thinks this is the prefect moment to continue haranguing him. "And you were the one who sold Faith to Kakistos, you disgusting evil…monster! That she's a Slayer doesn't make it less horrible, it makes it worse. She served the Good. She's an innocent victim, Spike."

"So were we all, once. Remember? All vampires started out as human beings, not just the ex-Slayers. Doesn't stop them from being monsters, doesn't stop you from killing them. Is as it ought to be."

"That's sounds really logical in theory, but it doesn't feel like that! Faith can't be a number to me, she's no faceless vamp!. If you know people, you should treat them differently, because they make you feel different."

What is she beating herself up for? There is no shame in living by your feelings and instinct.

"Did you treat the other Buffy like that?" she asks.

"Please, love, all that yammering and clanking of chains all day long would ruin my enjoyment of life. Death, whatever. She's my minion, and as long as she minds me, she gets treated all right."

"Minds you?" the Slayer hisses. "You mean does exactly as your tell her to."

"Well, yeah! What are minions for?"

What the hell did she expect? He grabs her by the upper arms and presses her into the side wall of the little room to contain all that useless thinking. She's sending out such a deliciously mixed cocktail of signals, it's enough to make a man's head spin. The tears that glisten in her big eyes and her heaving little bosom tell him she's prey, vulnerable, her fists tell him there's power here, be wary, and the press of her springy belly against his cock is pure sex. What's he to choose? He wants them all, her blood, her pussy and her fists. He wraps a big hank of her long hair around his hand and bends over for a kiss.

Ethan coughs politely. "If you two can spare a moment of your time, the device is quite ready."

Spike eyes it suspiciously. "Ready to transport the Slayer and me to her dimension, complete with protection spell for me?"

Ethan nods. Both he and Ethan ignore the protesting sounds from the Slayer.

"How do we activate it?"

"You both have to grab it at the same time."

"From what I heard," the Slayer says, "I won't get to meet my counterpart? She'll be flung right back to this dimension?"

"That's right."

The Slayer looks disappointed. "Too bad."

"What were you planning, love? Staking or reforming?"

"Ha ha. Staking, of course."

"What? You weren't gonna try and convince her to get herself a soul? You'd make a poor missionary, pet."

She always rises to his bait, so cute. Spike takes the transdimensional device and puts it away carefully.

Ethan mouths some words and they can hear a sudden ringing sound from the big hall; all the chains tumbling to the floor at once. There is a moment of petrified silence and Spike notices with chagrin that he's holding his breath in anticipation, like a human being.

Then a single sobbing scream rents the air. As it reaches crescendo a thousand other voices join in and for a second it's like attending a pop concert, all these female voices screeching on one high note. Then the unity breaks and a random caterwauling and thudding starts up.

"Okay, people, now's the time. Run."

The Slayer and him grab Rayne under his arms and push through the door, through the stunned ranks of the data entry vampires and into the dim confusion of the hall. It's all milling bodies and waving lights. One vampire has become a living torch and runs shrieking into a huddle of other vamps, setting them on fire. This is all good. No one will be paying attention to them.

He meets the Slayers eyes and knows they'll take off at the exact same second.

They are running through the hall. Screams echo through the big space, the scent of old blood tickles his nose. Rayne hangs like a rag doll between them; they're running faster than any ordinary human could. Everything is confusion, no one is minding them at all. He rips off a skull-like head from one of the freed vamps. It's like tearing off wet toilet paper. He runs through a spray of blood like a kid running through a sprinkler and licks his lips in appreciation. Only vamp blood, but better than that pig swill the Slayer made him drink.

The Slayer is glorious as she runs beside him. Her power and determination arc around her like shining wings. She twists and wends between the milling vampires, now kicking, then thrusting out with her stake without breaking stride. Her face is open and accepting, seeing all, no shame now, she and her power are one. She's beautiful like this, a queen. His heart yearns towards her, should he throw it at her feet?

They explode out into the brightly lit night and slow down. Ethan doubles over coughing, and then stumbles on towards one of the ridiculous limos.

"Come," Spike pants to the Slayer, and pulls at her hand.

Her wings are folding back in, she's pulling all that gorgeous energy back inside, making herself small, crossing her arms before her heart. He aches to see her withdraw her radiance and go dark and dull. Her Slayerness makes an almost palpable wall between them, and yet it is the only thing that connects them, makes them equals, where ordinarily just the ephemeral thread between hunter and hunted would briefly span. He toys with the thought of killing her now, at the apex of her powers, which might make it different from when he killed her the first time. But no, he knows what the very essence of her glorious nature would turn into, that her holy conviction would turn inside out and become warped and rancid. A joyless love of torture and submission into eternity. Some people are not made to be vampires and can ruin even the limitless freedom of that existence with their self-made shackles.

She wrenches loose and stands firm beside the door, stake ready. "No. We should kill as many as we can. Torch the place."

"With what? We have to go, we could do it right here, let's just move, Slayer! Let these creeps kill each other, none of our business."

Her face is so small and tight. "I have to kill the Slayers, Spike. They deserve to die. I owe it to them. I owe it to Faith. "

She sets her mouth and turns back. "I have to free Faith. I'm going back in."

TBC