Graham watched Willow Rosenberg enter the building alone. It irked him to spend his time watching humans, but orders were orders. Priorities were not his to assign. He grimaced and shifted his stance. Watching Hostile Sympathizers would serve the greater good.
He saw the lights go on in the room. The curtains weren't drawn. It looked like a normal dorm room to him, full of normal, girly crap. They sure didn't seem the type to be pushing a demon agenda. This whole operation stunk of Walsh's little obsession with Finn. His little flirt might be falling in with a bad crowd, might even be in real danger, but instead of handling it. He goes by the book, runs to the boss lady, and fucks up their sleep cycles for weeks. All over some silly little blonde that doesn't even give a shit about him.
She drew the curtains and he lifted the parabolic microphone to listen. Still nothing. Just the rustle of clothing dropping, a long sigh, the rustle of more fabric, the girl was getting dressed. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. The sounds of pages being flipped and paper rustling came through loud and clear. She was doing her homework. Great, the others got to hunt real threats while he sat on the sidelines babysitting a student that was actually studying.
Willow sat down and leafed through the book of spells. Tomorrow her powers would be bound up tight. She shuddered. It bothered her, but she could have killed her best friend and Spike. It was odd to feel guilty about that, about killing a monster that had tried so frequently to kill them all. Buffy was building a life with him, and he wasn't like Angel. He couldn't even defend himself anymore. Except that he had beaten the daylights, or was it nightlights, out of Angel tonight. Whatever that chip did, it wasn't working the way they originally surmised. Buffy hadn't seemed concerned.
She stared off into space, letting her mind work, looking for an explanation. She needed to know about that chip. She needed a spell that would reveal the knowledge. Then she could just hack the diagnostics. She spun a pencil through her fingers. It was too bad they couldn't trace the commandos, but they just seemed to disappear whenever Buffy got close enough to observe them.
She tilted her head and looked at her history text. There had been a picture of some World War II general in front of a map. She let her mind flow, knowing that the solution was coming. She stood up and pulled all the cards, notes, and souvenirs from her corkboard and dug out a map of Sunnydale. She put it over the board and taped it in place. She started putting in her blue pushpins for sightings. She could remember most of the ones Buffy had mentioned. She grimaced as the pattern emerged. The commandos were always turning up near campus. There were outliers, but the design looked like a blue sun with the north side of campus as its center.
She wrapped her arms around her middle. The map was clear, but she could feel her mind driving toward something. She wasn't done yet. She grabbed her textbook and flipped to the illustration. Eisenhower and some other military types stared out at her from the page. Her eyes dropped to the caption. The men were all named. She wasn't interested. It had been a planning session for D Day. Orchestrating such an enormous battle had been difficult. She put the book down on her desk and sat staring at the map. Something was teasing at her mind, a bit of something she needed to remember.
She closed her eyes. The image of her mother dressed in her precise and severe clothing rose in her mind. She could hear her mother complaining about the college. Her father's indistinct murmurs faded out. The campus had overhauled four houses on fraternity row instead of building a new lab facility. Her eyes sprang open. North of campus, fraternity row, she pulled out her lap top computer and smiled. Magic wasn't everything.
The records were easy to find. The school had announced the temporary closing of four fraternity houses, had sent out letters assuring parents that all asbestos would be cleaned from the buildings and they would be reopened in a year, it was all there. It was all so ordinary. The school newspaper had touted it as a victory for students. Three of the buildings had opened again within a year, but Lowell House had only opened last spring. She looked up at the map. She pressed a red pin where Lowell House would be. It was in the center of all the others. She swallowed. This looked less and less like wild speculation. Where had the grant to update those buildings come from?
Willow stared at her computer. She needed to do this right. She knit her fingers together and stretched them out. At least there was a chance she could try out her new polymorphic code. It took her thirty minutes, cutting through false information and cover stories until she found herself deep in Pentagon records staring at two words, The Initiative. There were files back to the 1920's. She took several deep breaths and backed out of the system covering her tracks as she went.
The government was playing with demons, doing something secret with them. This was so not of the good. She closed her computer after wiping target parts of its memory. Her grandmother's weary face and tattooed arm played through her mind. Governments were not to be trusted. She looked up at the map and grimaced. She pulled each pin from it and returned them to their little plastic bin. Removing the tape, folding the map, she let her mind work. If Buffy had noticed them, they might have noticed her. She put back up her ephemera, no longer caring about any of it.
They weren't safe. The government was in Sunnydale, and it was not for the best. She bit the end of a pencil and stared at the book of spells. They needed protection. Maybe she could find a spell that would protect them and show it to Giles, so he could find a way to use it. She opened the book and started to read.
Riley Finn watched the feed from Graham's post and the others around campus. Buffy hadn't been spotted. He rubbed the back of his neck. She might be holed up in her dorm room, but his gut told him that was unlikely.
"I hate this," he pushed back from his desk and leaned back in his chair. "That monster is out there with her, corrupting her, destroying her, and I get to sit here, doing nothing."
Violence welled up within him, but punching the wall was ridiculous and would just wind him up in the med unit for an evaluation. There was nothing he could do. He wanted to go find her, but Walsh said observation was required. He ground his teeth. They were observing nothing while she was out there in danger. He headed for the elevator. He could get a work out in. A little exercise might help block all these thoughts. He grimaced and leaned back against the elevator wall.
Margret Walsh stood in her favorite part of the lab. She watched the video feed of Riley Finn as he worked out. His aggression was definitely on the rise. Satisfaction surged within her. The medicines they had derived from the demon bloods were working. Regular human subjects could be enhanced for battle. She smiled and turned her attention back to the matter at hand.
She stroked one hand along her current subject's torso. The female flinched from her touch. Maggie smiled and looked down at the vampire strapped to her table.
"You can make all this stop," she crooned. "Tell me what you know about the Aurelian Family, and I will let you go back to your cell."
"The Master was killed by a slayer a couple of years ago," the little female squeaked out.
"You already said that," Maggie smiled and snipped off one of the vampire's toes. She smiled and watched it poof into ash. "Tell me about Angelus."
"I don't know anything about him. No one with a brain comes to his notice. The whole family is dangerous. They'll kill you for amusement if you piss them off." The golden eyes leaked pinkish tears down into her brown hair. "I'm a bite shop girl. I'm not like them."
"You must know something," Maggie stroked the creature's skinny thigh with one blunt finger. "Perhaps about Darla or Drusilla."
"They've all been here in the last few years, but I keep my head down. I don't want to figure into their plans. At best, I'm just so much cannon fodder to them and, Lady, you'd be even less."
"You think they'd fare any better than you?" Maggie chuckled. "You're nothing but tools for me to use, all of you."
"Sure, whatever you say." The vampire's golden gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Never thought I'd wish the slayer had gotten me."
"You truly are a pathetic thing. There is no slayer. It's too ridiculous, one girl in all the world to fight back the evil hordes." Maggie rolled her eyes.
"Just kill me," the vampire shook off her demonic face and stared at Maggie with sad grey eyes. "I'm just a flower child that got snacked one afternoon in the Haight. I'm useless to you."
"You want to die?" Maggie cocked her head.
"No, I am dead, about time I lay down." She turned her head and closed her eyes. "I've never killed anyone, never really taken to this existence. Maybe there is something better in the dust."
"Isn't there anything you want?" Maggie watched the human visage crumple in tears and waited.
"I want to see the sun rise again," she sobbed. "And I want an Aurelian to suck you dry. That would be a real service to humanity and demon kind alike."
"Well, perhaps you'll live to see your precious Aurelian family bow to me and serve at my leisure." Maggie pushed a button and two soldiers came in through the now open door.
"She's going to kill all of you, and I'm supposed to be the evil one." The vampire snorted.
"Escort Hostile 27 back to its cell, and bring me Hostile 39." Maggie ordered. They nodded and dragged the creature out. It did nothing but whimper. Maggie sighed and turned back to the video monitors.
Finn was punching the bag. She looked at the data. There was a rise of ten percent in the strength of his punches. She had hoped for more. She debated the wisdom of increasing his dose, but decided to watch and wait. Some medicines had a cumulative effect. The growls and scuffling feet alerted her to the arrival of her new subject. She blanked the screens again and smiled at the soldiers as they strapped the vampire into place.
Buffy woke up and looked over at Spike. He was asleep with a book on his chest. He looked adorable. His chest was rising and falling. He was breathing. Angel had never done that, but Spike was different. She pulled his duster around her and stroked the leather.
Memories swamped her. He had been drinking, copiously. Drusilla was off with a demon, something with green scales and three horns. He was nearing his centennial and he was living alone. He spent nights at dirty, little bars with bad music and smoke heavy in the air. She could feel his desolation. Darla was off with Nest again. Angelus was missing. Dru was abasing herself with her new toy. He was alone. He started cutting the sunrises closer and closer, each day the thought of stopping and letting the sun take him grew in appeal.
He was thinking about finding a nice spot to watch the sunrise when Nikki had cut through Central Park on patrol. Going down in battle appealed to him more than seeing the sun, so he had stalked Nikki for a short while. They fought one night in the rain. Buffy could feel the blows, the ferocity. Then Spike had caught the scent of the boy. He had cringed away from the notion of killing a mother in front of her child and let her go. Their next battle had been their last. Buffy bit her lip.
Nikki had served for seven years. Somewhere out in the world she had a son. Buffy bit her lip as a touch of envy filled her. There would be no children for her. No part of her would go on after she died. She looked at Spike. He would die with her, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to keep her alive. There was irony there.
She bit her lip. He wanted a home, kindness, to belong. She looked at her ring and saw him kneeling before her again, his blue eyes shining. She could remember the surge of desperation that had surged through him tonight as Angel threatened him. He hadn't fought to spare himself. He had fought to spare her the agony of it.
She laid the coat in the chair and stood up. She walked over to him and grinned down at the picture he presented. He had been making notes on prophecies. She plucked the book off his chest and closed it, sliding a bookmark in to keep his place.
He woke up as she put the book on the table. They stared into each other's eyes for a long while. Finally, she held out her hand.
"Come to bed, Spike." She tilted her head as he nodded and stood. They walked slowly through the quiet house holding hands until they came to the doors outside their room.
He stopped and held her in place with a squeeze of his hand. She turned and looked up into his eyes. The passion was evident in his gaze. His fingers traced the planes of her face with exquisite gentleness. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. He leaned his head against hers. Time ceased for both of them.
"Are you sure, Luv?" He pulled back and looked down into her eyes again. She swallowed, bit her lip, and nodded. His answering smile brought a sigh to her lips. He opened the doors and swung her up in his arms again.
"I thought we only got to do this once." Buffy tilted her head.
"Per doorway, Pet, per doorway." He stepped into their room and kicked the doors shut behind them.