Disclaimer: see chapter 1
6: SEND US IN
Spike watched triumphantly as a pixelized Mario fell off the screen. In Nintendo he had multiple lives, and the vampire was determined to end all of them as quickly as possible.
He'd heard the news over the telephone. Willow was wandering around in Buffy's head and communicating with the others through the computer somehow – she'd magically wired herself to the machine, Spike supposed. From what Harmony had told him, it seemed like Buffy's consciousness was acting as Willow's guide, and leading the witch through the Slayer's memories.
Spike didn't have to be a rocket scientist to see the trend in the type of memories. Memory # 1, learning Angel is a vampire. Memory # 2, discovering Drusilla's relationship to Angel. Memory # 3, Angel becomes Angelus. Memory # 4, being broken up with in a sewer...By Angel.
Spike hadn't needed to know more. He'd unplugged his phone and began his mission to annihilate Mario. So what if her pretty head was filled with Angel? He was busy killing the little Nintendo creep anyway.
As the Nintendo character died yet again, the former Big Bad heard a knock on his door. He knew no one would require an invite to a vampire's home, but still he chose not to invite them in, just to be spiteful. "Who is it?" he called.
"It's me." The voice was familiar.
Curious, Spike got up and opened the door. "Oh, Doyle – er, Lindsey."
Wearing a wry and intelligent smile, Lindsey said, "So you've found me out, huh."
Spike scoffed. "Yeah, you're an evil, lying, cheating, evil lawyer. So, can I do something for you, or are you just here to drive me bloody mad?"
Sighing, Lindsey continued. "Calm down, hero. Of course there's something." He glanced at the half-open door innocently and asked. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
Spike left the door as it was and receded into his room without speaking.
Lindsey shrugged and followed smugly. "Guess not."
Spike tore open the refrigerator and sipped cold blood out of a mug. "So Doyle," he began, "What exactly are you doing here? Last I heard of you, you were quite busy being whisked off to Hell by those Senior Partner wankers."
Lindsey looked around the drab apartment he'd purchased for Spike. "It just so happens that Angel and Co. decided to rescue me. I came to talk to you as soon as I could. I have a mission for you." The human seemed to be enjoying himself.
"What is it this time? Is there some young bird in trouble that you saw in one of your visions? Oh, that's right – they were all fakes! I'll have you know that I'm not going to help your fake victim. I'm bloody tired of playing your games."
"Why aren't you going save her life? That's what champions do, isn't it?"
"I'M NOT A BLOODY CHAMPION!" he shouted, causing the windowpanes on the highest floor to rattle. "I'm just a pawn in your petty revenge plots."
Lindsey looked a bit taken aback, but no where near intimidated enough to back down. "Okay, so maybe your aren't a real champion, like Angel. But you did save those people's lives – and the world back in Sunnydale – that has to mean something, doesn't it?"
Spike waited for him to elaborate, but obviously the statement was intended to be more thought-provoking than informative. Spike was intrigued by the idea, but afraid to let himself follow it to any conclusion. Angel always wins, he reminded himself.
"Now, my sources have informed me that there's a damsel at the office who's in a whole bunch of trouble." Spike listened attentively but didn't once look away from his cup of blood. "I have reason to believe that this case might be of particular interest to you, so consider it before choosing not to help."
"She's already got the Poofter and his pals helping her," Spike said sullenly. "And Red's in there, saving her now."
Lindsey got up to leave. "Well, it's your choice. But when the witch fails to save her, don't say I didn't warn you."
Spike leaped up and blocked the door, causing Lindsey to take an involuntary step backwards. "What's wrong? Why can't Red save Buffy?"
Lindsey shrugged, but Spike wasn't convinced – he believed the other man knew the answer. "All I'm saying is, you should really think about that champion thing." He walked around a pensive Spike and opened the door.
"And by the way, Lindsey," Spike turned and said to him, "I used that 'bed' sooner that you thought."
Lindsey's mouth curled in an expression of amusement. "If you're lucky, you may get a chance to use it again." With that, he walked out the door.
"If that feeble thing breaks, you'd bloody well better buy me a new one!"
"Buffy, I've already seen this, "Willow said gently, watching the Master push a 16-year-old Buffy into a pool of water...again. "Don't you have somewhere new to take me? Memories we haven't been to yet?"
Regretfully, the guide Buffy nodded. "Yeah, there are...more." She talked listlessly, and Willow was filled with an ever more urgent desire to cure her. The torment of this hell was definitely taking a toll on the Slayer.
Buffy led her friend down one of Sunnydale High's hallways. Willow noticed that the doors they passed were numbered 16, 17, 18, and onwards. Buffy stopped in front of Room 20, and muttered, "Here we are."
Buffy walked through the school's wall, but Willow tested it with her hand and found it to be entirely solid. Trying her luck with the door, she discovered that it was locked. "Buffy!" she called, "Wait, I'm stuck!"
From outside Room 20, Willow heard Buffy's voice.
"Come in, Spike." There is a smile in her voice.
"I know you can never love me. I know I'm just a monster. But you treat me like a man, and that's – "
Spike stomped on the gas pedal. Lindsey had a round-about way of saying things (it seemed to be a lawyerly trait), but Spike was positive that the man had told him going to Wolfram and Hart again would somehow help Buffy. He would do absolutely anything for that bird, even if it meant watching her think about Angel.
The vampire ignored the broad daylight and sprinted up the office steps in a blanket. Once inside Angel's lobby, he spotted Wesley. The sight of the ex-watcher reminded Spike of Giles and the rest of Buffy's friends, all completely unaware of her deteriorating state. He changed directions and headed for Harmony's desk.
"Blondie bear!" she exclaimed.
"Harm, I need the phone," he demanded in way of greeting.
Rolling her well-mascara-ed eyes, she handed him the appliance. "Who are you gonna call? Everyone you know is here already."
"Not quite everyone. Can I have Buffy's number again?"
Harmony protested that Buffy was just in the other room, not to mention incapable of answering the phone, but she handed Spike the number.
"Dawnie, it's the phone!" Xander praised every god he'd ever heard of for the diversion. He was miserably losing chess to the Slayer's sister, and he needed some thinking time.
"Bonjourno," Dawn said to the other end of the phone.
"Evening, Bit."
"EEEEEEE –" Xander looked alarmed at Dawn's screech. "Oh-my-god, SPIKE!"
"Whoa, Niblet. These vampire ears can hear you loud and clear, there's no need to scream."
Dawn put her hand over the mouthpiece of the receiver. "Xander, guess who's on the phone? Spike!"
"Never would have guessed," muttered Xander. "Wait – Spike? As in, he-who-died Spike?"
Spike groaned. "Bit, tell the whelp that the amulet – "
"Hang on, lemme put you on speakerphone!" Dawn told him.
Spikes frustrated voice filled the room. "The amulet was sent to LA and brought me back there. I was a ghost, but now I'm not. But the point is, your sister is here, but she's in trouble. Red's trying to stop her from dying, but we don't know how well it's working. Call Rupert, and all of you fly over here, in case..." the vampire couldn't continue.
"Okay, Spike," Dawn told him. "We'll get the first flight over and help however we can. I know you really care about Buffy, even though you sometimes have really screwed up ways of showing it."
Spike winced. So she still hadn't forgiven him for what he'd tried to do to Buffy. Not that he thought he deserved forgiveness in the slightest.
"Yeah, and I'm not proud of it. See you tonight then, Bit."
With that, Spike walked into Buffy's room.
"Buffy, why can't I go into any of these rooms?"
Buffy turned to Willow, with a look on her face that reminded the witch of the night Buffy has first been back alive. "They're locked, and you don't have the right keys."
"Well, can you give them to me?"
Buffy looked at her friend sadly. "I don't have them either. Why do you think I walk through the walls?"
Willow looked down the long hallway. "So who has all the keys?"
"My champion."
Buffy looked at the next door, glanced at her unmarred, and grimaced. From inside the room they could both hear voices.
"How long was I gone?"
"147 days yesterday. Uh ... 148 today. 'Cept today doesn't count, does it?"
Shivering, the Slayer passed through the wall.
"How goes it here at Evil Incorporated?" Spike inquired jauntily as he burst into the room. He didn't feel jaunty at all. "How's she doing in there?" he asked Kennedy softly.
"Fine. But Buffy – she's not getting better."
Spike bit his lip. Lindsey had been right, Angel and his friends did need help...But what could Spike do about that? The vampire tasted blood in his mouth and realized he'd broken the skin of his lip. Swallowing the liquid, he turned to look at Willow's body.
Suddenly the redhead gasped, opening her eyes. "A champion!" she insisted. "She needs a champion!"
"I'm right here," Angel told Willow, coming to stand beside the bed. Spike remained silent. Angel was the real champion.
"There are doors...I can't see all the memories, they're locked away. Only...her champion...can get to the important ones..." Willow fell silent, catching her breath.
Angel looked at Willow. "Send me in." The witch nodded, and set about making the preparations.
For the next few hours, the room was so thick with tension that people seemed to have difficulty moving. Angel alone seemed exempt from the lethargy of the dire situation, and he continued to pace frantically. The scene was downright distressing, and Spike wondered what the bloody hell he was doing there. When you had one noble, souled vampire, fighting on the side of good and making angsty, sarcastic comments, what need was there for a second one?
Spike began to back out the door when he ran into someone. Turning around, he saw that the girl was about his height, and several inches taller in her heels.
Dawn smiled calmly, decisively. "Send me and Spike in too."
Ok, fine, I must admit that Dawn probably got on the fastest airline flight known to man...CLEARLY she did not need to go through post-9-11 security...but my sister's snide comments aside...