A/N: This chapter is brought to you today by the letter M. ;-)

Happy reading and thanks for the reviews!

(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

Well, she believes that time can make things right

And I want to believe that there's been a change in me

And I hope that she believes

Yes, I wonder if she sees the killer inside me

The lights go down

And the clouds are building outside

You close the door and turn the key

But there's no place to hide

And I hope that she believes

Yes, I wonder if she sees the killer inside me

-Better Than Ezra, "The Killer Inside"

It had been a rough week. More Potentials were arriving by the day. Then a nasty flu ran through the household like wildfire. Even Buffy, who rarely if ever got sick, didn't come out unscathed. While she wasn't bedridden like the more serious cases, the Slayer's head had been all stuffy and congested for what felt like forever. It left her with a somewhat croaky voice that Spike thought sounded adorable.

Once all the Potentials got over the bug, Giles got them ready to go out on the ritual vision quest. The same kind of vision quest Buffy went on during the struggle against Glory. For the girls, it was an adventure. For everybody else, it was a mini-vacation from the responsibilities of caring for a dozen or so overactive teenagers.

Buffy and Dawn relaxed on the couch, Buffy sipping tea, while Giles scurried about in his last-minute fussing, wondering if he'd forgotten everything. The girls were already waiting for him in the car.

Giles finally paused by the couch and asked, "Are you sure you'll all be alright?"

"You'll only be gone for two days," Dawn reminded him.

"I think we've managed a bit longer than that," Buffy smiled at the anxious Watcher.

"Right." Giles glanced around, then rolled his eyes when he noticed something. "Oh, Dawn, Vi's left her notebook on the mantlepiece. Would you mind running it out to the car? While you're at it, smack her on the head with it and remind her not to leave it lying around."

"On it." Dawn got up, retrieved the notebook, and disappeared out the front door.

Giles sat down on the edge of the coffee table with a weary sigh. "I'm just a little bit twitchy about leaving you alone again here while—while things are...in such a state of flux," he said, removing his glasses to rub his tired eyes.

Buffy gave him a sympathetic look. "I know. But you should go. This trip is important for the girls to understand the source of their power, and to know how to use it right."

"I don't think they appreciate the gravity of what we're undertaking. It's frightening and it's difficult," he eyed the Slayer sidelong, "And then, apparently, someone told them that the vision quest consists of me driving them into the desert, doing the hokey-pokey, until a spooky Rasta-mama Slayer arrives and speaks to them in riddles."

Buffy pursed her lips and turned her eyes away. "That's not exactly how I put it."

At that moment, Willow came trotting down the stairs. Seizing on the distraction, Buffy greeted the redhead, "Hey! How's Tara?"

"Still 'fluey.'" Tara had been one of the hardest hit by the illness. At one point they were worried she might come down with pneumonia, but luckily her fever broke the other night and she was now on the mend.

The front door opened again to admit Xander, Anya, and Dawn. There was a distant sound of numerous teen voices shouting in the distance.

"Giles, you might wanna get out there," Xander warned.

Giles groaned, "Oh, god. What?"

"Molly and Rona are fighting over who gets to drive the first leg," Dawn informed him as she walked past.

Buffy smirked at the Watcher's obvious distress. "Bet you wish you'd renewed that California State driver's license now, huh?"

"Rona won," Anya announced before Giles could respond to the Slayer's ribbing, "You should probably let Molly out of the trunk. I never actually realized just how compact Molly really is."

Giles stood, a long-suffering look on his face. "Just please be safe while I'm away."

"You too," Buffy waved as he left to corral his excitable charges. The silence of the house was almost deafening after weeks of constant noise. Buffy finished her tea and lay her head back against the couch, eyes closed, to savor the quiet. After a moment, she got up and went upstairs.

Spike was in their room, sitting up in bed with a book propped against one knee. He smiled and set it aside when Buffy entered. "They gone?"

She nodded, "Yep."

"Thank god," he groaned in relief, "Give us all a chance for a breather, eh?"

"From Giles?" Buffy smirked.

"From the constant pitter-patter of clomping teenage girlie feet."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Buffy stated primly.

The vampire snorted, "Oh, come off it."

"No, I enjoy my responsibility as mentor, role model, life guide—Oh, my god!" she let herself flop down across the foot of the bed, face-down, "I cannot believe I have my bathroom all to myself for two whole days!"

Spike chuckled and reached down to rub her back. "It's like a bloody war zone out there, and not in the good way."

Buffy turned her head enough for one eye to peek up at him through the loose strands of blonde hair. "Have you seen the kitchen since they've been here?"

The vampire grimaced, "I'm just tryin' to stay out of their way."

"You know," Buffy rolled onto her back, smiling lazily up at him, "with the girls all gone for the next couple of days, we won't have to worry about them busting through the door every five minutes with their problems. I'm not sure what I'm gonna do with myself."

Spike grinned, shifting his position so that he leaned over her. "I can think of a few things we can do to pass the time."

"Oh?" she smiled coquettishly, "Like what?"

"Lemme demonstrate." Spike started to lower his lips towards hers, then abruptly froze, his face tense.

Buffy frowned, puzzled by this strange behavior. "Spike?"

"Ow." Spike twitched. His eyes widened and his hands flew to the sides of his head. He fell back on the bed, the heels of his hands pressing against his temples. "Ow-ow-ow!"

Buffy sat up in alarm and reached out to him. "What's wrong? Spike, what is going on?"

"The chip," Spike panted, eyes squeezed shut, "Oh, god. Why would...?" His back suddenly arched as a scream erupted from him. Buffy flinched when an echo of his pain reached her through the link.

"Spike!" She put her arms around him, holding him close while he suffered through the agony. Tears of frustration and fear stung her eyes. She didn't know how she could help him.

The chip kept going off in fits and bursts, sometimes lasting only a second, sometimes almost as long as a minute. Pretty soon everybody who was still in the house knew what was going on. The constant screams were kind of a giveaway. Unfortunately, nobody else had any ideas on how to help Spike, either.

Buffy descended the stairs a few hours later, a bloodied rag clutched in one hand. She went into the kitchen, dropped the rag into the trash, then went to the cupboard where they kept the rest of the clean dishrags. Willow was there as well, brewing a cup of tea. The redhead offered her a concerned smile. "Hey. How is he?"

Buffy sighed and sat down at the breakfast bar, her hands toying with the clean rag. "In the 'goes' part of 'comes and goes.'"

"Well, there seems to be a definite lack of screaming. That has to be good."

"You'd think," Buffy muttered. She pointed at the steaming cup. "That for the other patient?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah. Thought I'd bring Tara some tea. Help her feel better."

"Wil?" Buffy chewed her lip, "How much do you know about the chip?"

Willow frowned in thought. "Well, I remember trying to dig up stuff back then, but, y'know, turns out when a secret government agency studies vampires and puts chips in their brains to keep them from hurting people, they don't really build websites. Why?"

"Even with the chip Spike was able to hurt all those people when he was under that spell."

"Yeah, but he was under control of the medallion," the witch pointed out, "Who knows how that might've affected his brain?"

"Maybe something's wrong with it," Buffy half-whispered.

"His brain?"

Buffy mock-scowled at her friend's weak attempt at a joke. "The chip."

"Gotta be misfiring all on its own, then." Willow's eyebrows rose in false excitement. "Well, this'll be fun."

Buffy smiled ruefully. "Remember when things used to be nice and boring?"

The redhead pretended to give this some thought. "No."

With a final smile, Willow carried the tea up to Tara and Buffy returned to Spike.

The vampire's eyes were red-rimmed, blood seeping from his nose. A few drops had fallen onto the pillowcase before Buffy was able to gently wipe it away.

"Popped another blood vessel, I think," Spike's tone was strangely matter-of-fact, "Gettin' bloody tired of bein' the damsel in distress."

"There's gotta be a reason why the chip is going all wonky," Buffy muttered, "Maybe it's related to when Amy was controlling you. Or maybe it has something to do with the Claim."

"Or maybe I wasn't meant to last this long." Leave it to Spike to state the uncomfortable truth. "One more thing you and I have in common, eh, pet?" he remarked with an ironic smile.

Buffy swallowed, the soreness in her throat no longer attributable to her cold. "Well, we'll fix it," she declared, trying to sound confident, "We'll hit serious research mode—"

"Good. Try Behavior Modification Software Throughout the Ages."

Buffy's mouth twitched at his sarcastic suggestion. "Okay. You're right. Not a book thing," her eyebrows lifted as a thought occurred, "It's a phone thing."

"Who you gonna call?"

They both stilled for a second, then broke down in laughter.

"God, that phrase is never gonna be usable again, is it?" Spike chuckled.

Giggling, Buffy shook her head, "Doubt it."

When they recovered from their bout of hysteria, Spike followed Buffy out of the bedroom and sat on the stairs while she dialed the emergency number she had been given a few years ago. The vampire was tired of waiting around in bed, plus he wanted to listen in, in case Buffy succeeded in getting a hold of the party in question.

"Yes, Agent Finn," she spoke to whoever had answered her call, "Riley. Tell him we're having a problem with Spike's chip. No, his chip. Spike." She rolled her eyes in impatience.

Spike sighed; this was the third time Buffy had repeated her story. These wankers were giving her the runaround. "Listen, Buffy..."

"No, no. Finn is his last name. Yeah," Buffy frowned, "Well, d-did he used to work there and maybe he got transferred? Oh."

Spike gasped as another jolt of pain lanced through his skull. Buffy hurried over to him, even though she couldn't do much more than offer emotional comfort. She squeezed his shoulder with her free hand, the other still holding the phone to her ear. She half-listened to something the person on the other end said and her confusion grew. "W—Is this actually a flower shop, o-or is this one of those things where I'm supposed to play along to show that I know it's really secret ops?" she winced, "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. Um, okay. Right, uh... Well, i-if some guy named Finn shows up to buy flowers— Yeah, thanks."

She pressed the "end call" button and gazed down at the hunched over vampire. "Wrong number. Or a giant government conspiracy."

When he didn't respond, her worry grew. "Spike? A-Are you...?"

Spike straightened, drawing in a slow breath. His eyes were watering. "This one seemed easier than the others," he said, more from denial than honesty, "See? Probably just gonna fade—" His body convulsed, a scream ripped from his throat.

"Oh, god. Spike, it's gonna be okay," Buffy sobbed, hugging him close and rocking them back and forth, "You're gonna be okay."

It seemed like forever before the tension finally left him. Spike's head lolled back and his bleary eyes cracked open. "Buffy?"

She kissed his forehead. "I'm right here."

"The chip fired again," he rasped.

"I kinda figured," she mustered a faint smile, "Maybe they'll call back. Maybe they'll send help."

Spike took a deep breath, his voice noticeably steadier when he spoke again, "Maybe we can't wait."

The Scoobies offered to come along, but Buffy didn't want to have to worry about them if they ran into any trouble. She and Spike took a couple of flashlights and made their way to the isolated place not far from the University campus where Spike had originally escaped the Initiative. Buffy was surprised that it was night already; the hours had blurred while she'd ineffectually looked after her suffering boyfriend.

"Are you sure you still wanna go back in this place with me?" Spike asked. Neither one of them relished the idea of returning to that hellhole. He bloody well hadn't thought to ever see that sodding lab ever again.

Buffy feigned boredom, "Eh, nothing good on TV tonight."

Spike smiled in spite of the direness of his situation. Truthfully, he was grateful to have her along.

His flashlight beam played over a familiar arrangement of large stones on the ground. "Here we are."

"Yep, here we are. Do you think this stuff's still good?" Buffy asked as they started digging through the soft dirt with their hands.

"I don't know. It worked pretty good when the Initiative held me captive here," Spike told her, "Every time I'd get a little...rambunctious...the chip would kick in and I'd feel like my head was gonna explode. They'd dope me up and everything would be all daffodils and teddy bears. For a couple of hours, anyway."

Buffy tasted bile at the thought of what he'd been put through. She was ashamed of how easily she jumped onto the Initiative bandwagon, how naïve she was to believe they were actually doing good with their sick experiments. All because she'd had a thing for Riley. God, she couldn't believe how stupid she was!

A touch on her arm drew her thoughts back to the present. She looked at the vampire's reassuring smile. "It's in the past, luv."

Buffy nodded; she needed to focus on right now, not the foolish errors of her past. "Maybe we should search for files and stuff. Find out everything we can about the chip. Shelf life."

"I'll take whatever I can get." Spike unearthed the chain that was attached to the hidden door. He and Buffy both gripped the chain and pulled with all their considerable strength. When the Initiative left, they'd supposedly filled the entire hidden compound in with concrete. In reality, all they did was cover the entrances with a layer of cement to seal the place up. As Spike and Buffy pulled on the chain, there was a crack of breaking masonry, then the trapdoor flew open. A cloud of cement dust rose up and chunks of broken concrete showered down on the unseen floor below. Buffy and Spike shone their flashlights down to make sure the area was relatively clear before they jumped in.

Spike wrinkled his nose at the stench that lingered in the air. Judging from the suppressed gags, Buffy picked up on the odor as well. As they went deeper into the abandoned compound, their flashlight beams came upon numerous corpses scattered around. Some wore lab coats or uniforms, some were obviously nonhuman. All of them were in advanced stages of decay.

"Oh, god," Buffy choked, appalled by the grisly sight, "They just left 'em."

Hadn't even given their own people the benefit of a decent burial. Spike shook his head in disgust.

"I'm thinkin' brief stay," Buffy suggested.

"Yeah. You're not wrong." Spike turned a corner, saw a familiar door. "I think I can get us to the med lab. Find the drug."

Without electricity to power the security locks, the door swung open without resistance. The going got more treacherous as they entered the med lab area. Broken equipment and hulking machinery littered the halls. Spike felt like a rat wandering through a maze.

The couple froze at the sound of a distant clatter.

"D'you hear that?" Spike whispered.

Buffy nodded, the movement barely noticeable in the darkness. "Yep."

"Think something survived?"

Another sound, like something large scuttling across the floor.

"Sounds like."

Spike strained his eyes, but even his enhanced vision couldn't pick anything out in the almost pitch-blackness. "Do you see where?"

"No," Buffy pointed her flashlight down a corridor that branched off from theirs, "But it sounded like it was coming from over there. Whatever it is, it's not—"

Something flew out of the darkness and collided with the blonde. Her flashlight clattered to the floor, casting crazy shadows over the walls as it rolled.

"Buffy!"

Spike made out her silhouette fighting with something. He moved to help her when lightning seemed to go off in his head. "Oh, god, no. Not now!"

The thud of the vampire's collapse drew the surviving demon's attention. The creature was hideously deformed from whatever experiments it had undergone at the government's hands. That, combined with the long isolation and gradual starvation, had driven the demon insane.

"Spike!" Buffy cried as the monster flung her aside.

The demon scuttled over to the fallen vamp and dragged him off by the ankle. The situation was so similar to what Spike had gone through when the First took him that for a pain-addled moment he thought he was back in that cavern with the Turok-Han about to torture him. A whimper of fear escaped him.

Buffy clambered to her feet, snatched up her flashlight, and hurried in the direction that she sensed Spike had been taken. She strained her eyes and ears, but didn't pick up any sign of the demon or the vampire. "Spike?"

The demon appeared from nowhere, hissing in rage. Buffy tried to hit it, but it grabbed her wrist and dashed it against the wall, knocking the flashlight from her grip once again. The demon then lifted her over its head and flung her over a nearby science console. As the creature jumped after her, Buffy grabbed the first thing her fingers came across and leapt to her feet. Luckily, the items she'd found was a long metal pole. She whacked the demon over the head with it. The demon grabbed the pole and used it to spin her around and shove her against the console. Buffy kicked the creature away, then drove the end of the pole through its chest. There was a final, gurgling roar, and then the monster stilled.

Buffy left the body where it was and used the Claim to guide her to where Spike lay. She dropped to her knees beside him, ran her hand gently through his white-blonde hair. "Hey. Are you still with us?" she murmured.

Spike's eyes stayed closed as he responded in the barest whisper, "Yeah."

Relieved, Buffy smiled and said, "Well, that guy was—"

The compound was suddenly flooded with light, causing them both to squint painfully. Buffy looked up at the second level, saw dozens of uniformed men pointing weapons down at them. "Just the beginning," she finished.

The only soldier not pointing a weapon spoke up in an authoritative voice, "Miss Summers. Agent Finn reported that you tried to contact him earlier today."

"I knew it!" she exclaimed triumphantly, "Government conspiracy."

At a gesture from the leader, the soldiers lowered their weapons and started down the stairs. "He indicated you might be needing our assistance," the man informed her, "We're to provide you anything you need to help 'assface' here."

Buffy blinked. Spike managed to quirk an eyebrow.

"Those were his exact words, ma'am," the leader clarified.

A stretcher was brought over and two of the soldiers carefully loaded Spike onto it. Buffy hovered anxiously at his side as they were taken to an area of the med lab that had apparently been tidied up in preparation for their arrival. Buffy watched as the vampire was placed onto an exam table and several medics began looking him over. She felt Spike's distrust, but so far the doctors weren't doing anything harmful. Buffy silently promised him that at the slightest hint of distress, she'd come in swinging.

After what seemed like hours, the leader—whose name Buffy had heard and forgotten in the span of a second—approached to tell her the results. "Med team tells me they took a look at the chip. You were right. It's degraded. Leave it as it is much longer and it'll be fatal to him."

Even though she'd expected as much, the news still came as a blow. It was a struggle for Buffy to keep her voice steady, "Okay. So, h-how long 'til—"

"Now, ma'am," the man answered, almost kindly.

"Right, of course," she sighed, fidgeted in uncertainty, "Um... What do we do next?"

"Agent Finn said it was your call, ma'am."

She blinked. "My— What was my call?"

"All decisions regarding Hostile Seventeen are to be left in your hands," the man explained, "His chip, we can either repair it, or remov—"

"Take it out of him."

The man seemed caught off-guard by the fact that she didn't even pause to consider her answer. "Are you sure that's your final decision, ma'am?" he didn't ask as if he thought she was making a mistake; only making sure that she was certain.

Buffy nodded. "Yes."

"Very well." The man gave the order to the medics.

As the doctors prepared to operate, Buffy went to Spike's side. She took his hand in hers and smiled down at him. "Hey. You hear? You're getting your chip out."

The vampire gave her an exhausted smile. "Thank you."

Buffy leaned down, kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you."

As Spike was wheeled away to the operating room, Buffy sat on a chair somebody scrounged up for her and prepared for the long, unbearable wait.

Spike couldn't stop smiling. For years he'd felt as if he were walking around in chains, and now they were gone. He was free.

He looked at the woman walking hand-in-hand with him. She was the reason he no longer had a leash shoved in his brain. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly love her any more than he already did.

Buffy smiled at him, sharing in his joy. In a burst of childish glee, the two of them ran the rest of the way home, laughing all the way. When they arrived at the house, it was almost sunrise, and there was not a sign of anyone else inside.

"Hello?" Buffy called out, straining her ears for the slightest response. Where was everybody? She turned to Spike with a grin on her face. "Looks like we're all alone."

Without warning, Spike scooped the petite woman up, tossed her over his shoulder, and ran up the stairs. Buffy shrieked and tried to squirm out of his grip. "Spike! Put me down," she laughed, punching at his lower back, "You just had surgery!"

Ignoring her half-serious protests, Spike burst through the bedroom door and slammed it shut behind them, locking it for good measure. Only then did he set Buffy down and the two of them immediately started tearing at their clothes. It had been way too long since they'd last been intimate; not since before the First abducted Spike. After a couple of failed attempts at undressing each other, they laughed and removed their own clothes instead. When the last item of clothing hit the floor, Buffy reached up to untie her ponytail and shook out her long, golden hair. Spike tangled his fingers in her blonde tresses and pulled her into a deep, almost violent kiss. His breath came out in heaving gasps. Buffy loved knowing she had that affect on him, that she brought his emotions into such a frenzy to make his dead lungs feel starved for oxygen.

Without breaking the kiss, Buffy jumped and wrapped her legs around Spike's waist. Spike stumbled over to the bed and fell onto it, landing face-up so that Buffy was on top of him. Buffy left his lips to trail open-mouthed kisses along his jawline, down the column of his throat. She ran her tongue over his nipples and traced the contours of his abs, nipped at the sensitive skin of his belly and licked the hollows of his hips.

"Buffy...Buffy..." Spike's back arched as she engulfed him with her mouth. "Agh! Bloody hell!"

Buffy smiled around the hardness in her mouth. She relaxed her throat and took him in as deep as she could, then hummed.

"Oh, god! Buffy, stop, I'm gonna—"

In an impressive show of Slayer reflexes, Buffy abruptly released his member and swiftly straddled him, impaling herself on his length an instant before he came with a roar. Spike's hands grabbed her hips with bruising force and slammed her down onto him. He flipped them so that Buffy was under him, but instead of pounding into her as she expected, he slid his still-hard length in and out of her at a slow, steady pace. "Open up to me," he whispered in her ear.

Buffy relaxed and let all her barriers down. Her Claim mark tingled as their emotions merged. She felt her soul in him, felt his demon in her. They were perfect, balanced, complete. Buffy pulled Spike's head down and sank her teeth into his Claim mark. As his blood filled her mouth and his fangs penetrated her own Claim mark, her brain whited out in the most intense climax she'd ever experienced.

She came down from her high with Spike's weight upon her. His contented purr vibrated against her chest.

"You bit me," he mumbled.

"Yeah." She licked her lips, tasted traces of his blood. She'd never done that before; bit him hard enough to draw blood. She wondered why it didn't freak her out.

Spike turned his head to lightly kiss her mark, then reluctantly rolled off of her and pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest, smiled at the rise and fall of his unneeded breaths and the lack of a heartbeat. "God, I needed this," she sighed happily.

Spike chuckled. He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. "How d'you think the others will take it? Me not havin' the chip anymore?"

"They'll deal. I know you won't hurt anyone except in self-defense."

The vampire smiled. "Puttin' a lotta faith in me, luv."

"I know you."

"Yeah. You do." He tilted her head back and kissed her slow and deep.