Disclaimer: The characters or themes mentioned from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this project.

Summary: Buffy, a vampire with a grudge against the Council, is captured by the Initiative and finds herself dependent on her enemy: Spike the Vampire Slayer and his band of white-hats.

Pairing:Buffy and Spike

Rating:PG-13

Thanks: To justsue for being a great beta!

Chapter 5

Sunnydale, 1999

Spike heard about the prank on Stevenson Hall at breakfast the next morning. Technically it was lunchtime, but for him and most of the other students that hadn't stumbled into bed before 4 am it was still their first meal of the day. It never occurred to Spike to check on Willow. He'd probably run into her later, then he could make with the sympathies and ask her how she was doing. It was a bloody stupid question, really. I know your first love just left you high and dry, but how are ya holdin' up?

Honestly, he didn't know if there was anything he could do for her, and that pissed him off. She wasn't up for partying, she didn't want to get smashed, and rebounding was out of the question for her. What else could he do but give her time and space to sort herself out? Spike had found a whole new self after Cecily, after she'd crushed all his adolescent hopes and dreams in one brutal moment of public humiliation. The grief and rage, coupled with his emerging Slayer powers, had led him to a different part of himself, and he didn't regret for one moment his transformation into Spike. Willow would find herself too, it was just a matter of time.

What changed Spike's mind about checking on Willow was seeing the broken glass in the taped-off area underneath her dorm window. She wasn't in her room and Janet, Willow's party-girl roommate, couldn't tell him anything about what happened or where Willow was. He checked the library, but she wasn't studying. He checked the science labs, but she wasn't doing any hocus-pocus. There were no classes on Sunday, so where else would she be? The answer was… nowhere. Willow was missing. Spike figured now might be one of those moments when he should call Giles.

The phone was picked up after the second ring. "Spike?" Giles asked.

"Red's been kidnapped," Spike said immediately.

"What?"

"Red's been kidnapped," he repeated, "her window's broken and I can't find her."

"Willow hasn't been kidnapped," Giles replied, sounding inappropriately impatient to Spike.

"Yes she has, you old git, and the longer we stand around—"

"Spike," Giles cut him off, "something happened last night and Willow spent the night at Xander's."

"Oh," was all Spike said at first. Then, "what happened?"

"A number of things, actually." Spike could hear the stress in Giles' voice. "I believe a meeting is in order."

"Right." Spike was on his way before Giles even hung up the phone.

Fifteen minutes later he was walking in Giles' front door. Sunnydale was a small town, you were never more than a half-hour drive from Main Street. Willow, Xander, and his new tag-along Anya had arrived minutes before him, and were now all tucking in to a box of fresh doughnuts. Spike had just eaten, but he grabbed a jelly doughnut anyway. "So, what's goin' on?" he asked around a mouthful of pastry.

"So nice of you to drop by," he heard Giles mutter underneath his breath.

"Look, I've been busy," Spike said defensively. Of Giles' look he added, "with takin' down the forces of evil night after night and gettin' a good and proper education, just like you wanted." Giles didn't say anything more about the matter.

A faint scraping sound came from the hallway, somewhere in the bathroom, Spike guessed. "You got a houseguest?" he asked Giles, eyebrows raised. Willow and Xander would never suspect it, but ol' Rupert had a honey or two back in England. Giles played it cool, he was very discreet about any ties that remained from his pre-Watcher days. Spike had met Olivia once, though, a few months after Giles formally adopted him and they moved to America. She'd been in Mexico with a missionary, building low-rent houses, and made a side-trip through California on her way back to England just to hook up with "Ripper".

"Your best-buddy Buffy is back in town," Xander said.

"Buffy," he reiterated in an annoyed tone. "That bitch just won't give up, will she? When is she going to get it through her thick skull that she can't kill me?" Spike paused in his emphatic tirade, remembering the last time he'd had a run in with the "Slayer of Slayers". She very well could have killed him then. But no one else knew about that, and he preferred that it stayed that way. A loud, metallic clang reverberated from the bathroom.

Lowering his voice, he asked, "How do you know she's in town? Do you know where she's shacked up?"

"She tried to kill me last night," Willow piped up, "but so did the commandos."

"The soldier-boys?" Spike asked, wondering if he'd missed something.

"And she's currently enjoying the comfort of Giles' five-star bathtub," Xander said with a small grin. An image rose in Spike's mind of the female vampire lounging in a bath of warm soapy water, filled almost to the brim. Lit candles were scattered around the room, creating an ethereal shine that reflected off the water and made her skin glow. Soft jazz played from an omnipresent speaker…Giles coughed awkwardly and Spike snapped back to reality.

"What Xander means to say it that she's currently chained to my bathtub."

With a sudden jolt of understanding, Spike dropped his half-eaten doughnut back in the box and stormed down the hall. He flung open the bathroom door without hesitation. Spike half expected her not to be there, but there she was. Laying in Giles' bath, hands and feet shackled together and chained to the water pipe. And bugger him if she didn't look brassed off.

"Buffy," he said in a menacing voice.

"Spike," she spat back, with just as much malice.

Giles, Willow, Xander, and Anya somehow all managed to cram their way into the bathroom behind him.

"Thought you were done being a royal pain in my arse."

"Yeah, well so did I," she snapped. "I didn't ask to be chained up in your bathtub!"

"I can easily fix that for you." Spike pulled a stake out of his back pocket. He stepped forward, intent on ending the existence of the most annoying vampire he'd ever met, excluding Angel. Spike gripped his stake and the muscles in his arm tensed in preparation. Then he stopped abruptly and looked at the people behind him.

"Why is Buffy chained up in your bathroom?" he asked Giles. Giles gave a pointed look to Willow, who folded her arms defensively.

"She has information about the commandos," she paused and looked uncertain, "in theory."

"And we have reason to believe that Buffy can no longer harm living creatures," Giles told him.

"That's right!" the vampire said suddenly, as if just remembering something. "Those GI Joe guys, they did something to me. They're evil. You should stop them, but tell them to fix me first!"

"I'd say they already did," Anya remarked flatly.

Spike blinked. "Buffy's been defanged?"

"It would appear so," Giles confirmed. The vampire in question slumped in the bath and fixed all of them with a cold glare. Spike noticed for the first time since seeing her that Buffy didn't have the healthy glow she normally carried. Splotches of dirt stood out against her complexion, which was considerably paler than he remembered, and her lips were dry and cracked. For the first time, Buffy looked exactly like what she was: dead. Whatever thoughts were playing in her mind were hidden behind a stony, almost calm exterior. The only thing that gave her away was her eyes. They were the same as they had always been; Buffy's eyes never changed to the eerie yellow that other vampires had, but looking at them Spike was struck with a strong impression that Buffy was a wild cat, tensed to pounce at any moment. Spike shook off a chill.

"Well this is just neat," he exclaimed tauntingly. "So let's make with the interrogating. The sooner we do, the sooner we can wash Buffy-dust down the drain."

"We can't kill her." Spike looked at Giles with surprise. He was used to rowing with his mentor, but this wasn't an issue that should spark opposition. Especially since Spike was on his own now, in college and mostly Watcherless, and he called the shots now. "Against my better instincts, it is not in our nature to kill creatures that are," Giles paused to search for the right word, "innocuous."

"So what are we going to do with her?" Xander asked. "I mean, we don't even know for sure that she is harmless, so we can't just let her go. And I don't really think Giles wants to share his bathroom with a vampire."

"Quite right," the older man agreed, "but I think our first priority should be to find out about the commandos. Regardless of what happened to Buffy, they could very well be a threat to us."

"What makes you think I'll tell you anything?" Buffy said icily. "Maybe I think it'd be funny if you all woke up in a giant hamster cage with epilepsy."

"I could do a truth spell," Willow offered. "That way she has to answer our questions and tell the truth."

Giles thought that was a fine idea, and made a list of everything Willow would need to pick up at the magic store. He sent Xander and Anya with her to "help," but Spike suspected it was just to get them out of his house. The ex-Watcher looked like he'd had his tweed ruffled.

"Why don't you wait in the living room until the others return," he suggested to Spike, before wandering into the kitchen to put on a pot of water. Spike snorted. He wasn't going to sit around and twiddle his thumbs until the gang got back, and Giles knew that. Willow could do her chanting and lighting of smelly herbs, but when things needed to get done, it was Spike who turned things from push to shove.

He kicked the bathroom door shut and knelt next to the bathtub. Spike rested his arms on the rim of the bath, and stared hard at his enemy. "Now it's just you and me, love," he said to her. "And as far as I'm concerned, you've been living on borrowed time ever since you came back to Sunnydale. Start talking now and maybe you'll live a little longer."

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Sunnydale

December 12, 1998

A deep-rooted ire had taken hold of Spike's gut. Every moment that passed by felt tangible, like a shower of hellfire stocking his burning rage to its limit. It seemed to Spike that he was filled to the brim with anger, one more drop and he'd combust from the overflow of emotion. The anger that Spike accepted wholeheartedly, though, was only a shield against the more painful emotions that were buried at the heart of it. Anger was something he could channel with his body, something he could beat out by beating his foes. The hurt and betrayal only seemed to spiral out of control with any action he took.

Spike had bloody known that Giles was withholding something from him about what was happening. He was too casual about it, more so than he should have been if his only concern was worrying Spike. Spike had known that Giles knew something, but he had never suspected his Watcher was the cause of it.

The bastard hadn't just drugged him and taken away his Slayer powers. Giles had played with his mind. He'd used a pile of bleeding rocks to hypnotize him, and then pretended like he still cared once Spike snapped out of it. And now, thanks to Giles, Spike was walking his last mile.

It didn't matter that Giles had told him not to go, the old man was a fool to have thought he could change anything after he'd administered the first injection. Quentin Travers had made that outstandingly clear. It was either walk in to the abandoned house now of his own volition with a single stake tucked in his duster pocket, or wait for Weatherby to knock him out and probably wake up in the house weaponless.

Spike realized now that this is what Angel had probably wanted to warn him about. He'd gotten a message from the Poofter around lunchtime, an unusual hour for a vampire to be up. He needed to tell him something important, something that couldn't be recorded on an answering machine. Spike had actually meant to call Angel back too, but while he was rooting around for the number of Angel's new agency in LA, Giles had decided it was time for another lesson in crystals.

"Spike."

Spike had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, staring bleakly at the abandoned house in front of him, that he'd never noticed the figure that had come to stand beside him. Fate was definitely not on his side tonight, Spike decided, as he turned to face Buffy. The one vampire he could never kill now had him at her mercy. At least now he wouldn't have to die at the hands of a Council picked vampire, although he really wasn't seeing much benefit.

"Came to have another crack at me, have you? I have to admit, I was surprised you gave up in the first place." Bravado was good. Maybe if he didn't act like he was completely fucked, he would start to believe it.

"I didn't 'give up,' I just didn't need you dead yet," Buffy retorted.

"An' you need me dead now?" Spike asked.

"No," Buffy said with a sigh, "I needed you dead three days ago, but I got delayed in LA."

"So now you've got to pay an overdue fee when you kill me?"

Buffy didn't respond to that, but changed the topic instead. "Where's your Watcher?" she asked.

Spike narrowed his eyes. "You know, I have half a mind to tell you, but he's probably already getting a royal whipping from his boss right now. I don't think he needs to be killed on top of that."

Buffy's features softened for some reason Spike couldn't discern, and she said quietly, "He's better than most, then."

"Right," he said, confused, "well if you're not going to kill me just now, I've got an almost certain death to greet in that house over there," he gestured across the street. Buffy stepped out of his way and he moved past her.

"I would kill you," she said suddenly, stopping him with a hand on his arm, "but I can tell you're going to survive this."

"Uh huh," Spike responded slowly, "so you're not going to kill me until somebody else threatens to do the job for you?"

Buffy stepped in front of him again and rested her head on his chest. "It's strong," she murmured after a moment, and Spike wasn't sure if she was talking about his heartbeat or something else. "You won't be seeing me again." One of her hands slipped under his duster and traveled to his back pocket. It was a strange sensation to be felt up by your mortal enemy, Spike decided right then, although it wasn't horrible.

As quickly as she had embraced him, Buffy let go and turned on her heel. She walked away casually, like she was an average Sunnydale citizen taking an ill-advised stroll after dark. Spike watcher her until she was a block away, and then crossed the street.

It looked like any house of horrors should: dilapidated, boarded up windows, creaky doors, the foundation probably on a slant. And inside was a hungry vampire. What more could a Slayer ask for on his birthday?

Spike was half hoping the vampire would attack as soon as he crossed the threshold, at least then he wouldn't have to search the house for it, but he had no such luck. He crept from the entranceway to the kitchen and still saw no sign of the vampire. Spike supposed he could sit down and wait for the demon to come find him, but something about the expression "sitting duck" kept him moving. This way Spike might even be able to make the first move.

It only took a few minutes for Spike to figure out the vampire wasn't on the first floor. It was probably holed up in one of the upstairs rooms waiting for Spike to find it. As he mounted the rickety staircase it groaned with ever step he took, and Spike considered turning around right then and walking out of the house. Watcher's Council be damned, he wasn't taking orders anymore. Spike was done jumping through hoops for a bunch of stuffy ponces. Of course, if he walked out now Weatherby would probably kill him.

Spike looked down the hallway at the top of the staircase to the line of doors. They were all ajar except for the furthest. He walked straight to the closed door and took a deep breath. Spike opened the door quickly.

He didn't even have to worry about looking for the vampire, because as soon the door opened the demon hurtled out and they both slammed into the opposite wall. Spittle sprayed Spike's face and he had a moment to register the creature's fetid breath before it tried to bite him. He ducked out of the way of the descending fangs and punched the vampire in the jaw, probably doing more damage to his own fist.

The vampire snarled in anger and punched Spike in the stomach hard enough to send him flying several feet back towards the stairs. Spike didn't bother trying to breathe again right away, but crab-crawled backwards a few steps before the vampire was on him again. He pulled out his stake this time and tried to impale the creature when it grabbed him by the shoulders. The stake was harmlessly batted away and went clattering down the stairs.

Now weaponless, defeat seemed the most probably outcome. Even before he'd entered the house, Spike knew the odds were stacked against him, just like they were against every other Slayer before him. The Cruciamentum test was the embodiment of everything it meant to be a Slayer. Alone, close to death, and determined.

Spike was determined not to die now, by the hands of a Council picked vampire. He'd snuff it one day, probably one day in the near future, but it wouldn't be for anything less than saving the world. Of that, Spike was positive.

He used his legs to shove the vampire away from him, and scrambled after his stake. The vampire recovered before Spike was half way down the stairs, and pounced on his back. The two of them tumbled down the rest of the way in a tangle of limbs and curses. The vampire toppled over Spike and was the first to hit the floor. Spike rolled over it and collided with the wall. Something in his back pocket jabbed into his arse.

The vampire climbed to his feet before the room had even stopped spinning for Spike. A grubby hand closed around Spike's throat and lifted him off his feet. Spike blinked dazedly. The vampire opened its jaws and roared at him like a feral animal.

Spots started to play around the edges of his vision, but Spike could still see the fangs drawing in closer and closer. On a desperate whim, Spike whipped the object out of his back pocket and jammed it into the vampire's eye without pausing to see what it was. The result was immediate. The vampire dropped him and let out a bloodcurdling shriek. Spike took several deep breaths, his hands on his knees, before he looked up at the screaming vampire.

The creature continued to shriek and wail while it clawed at what used to be its eye. Dark red blood that was almost black and a clear liquid ran out of a smoking socket. A silver chain also hung from the thing imbedded in the vampire's eye socket. Spike found his stake again and dusted the vampire, putting it out of its misery.

As the dust settled, Spike saw the silver chain glinting up from the floor. As he retrieved it, the crucifix dangled from the chain, painted red with the vampire's blood.

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Timeline

January 1, 1900 (America)- "Girl" (pretty sure we all know who it is…) meets Angel

1996 (London)- Spike is Called

1997 (Sunnydale)- Spike and Giles move to Sunnydale

Spike meets Buffy for the first time

December 12, 1998 (Sunnydale)- Spike's birthday and Cruciamentum test

1999 (Sunnydale)- Buffy returns to Sunnydale and is captured by the Initiative

Bolded events haven't been specifically dated in the story.