No one moved for a long moment as Buffy took in the situation, her warrior's mind racing ahead, trying to come up with various scenarios, possibilities of escaping this situation. She had no weapons except for a couple of concealed stakes, and a vampire who couldn't fight humans -- and she had to get both of them and her suitcase full of evidence *and* the signed ownership transfer papers out of Riley's office, past a dozen armed men all focused on them.

Nothing immediately sprang to mind.

A fierce determination suddenly came over her as she glanced back at Spike, who was clearly very frightened, but was watching her closely, ready to move at any signal from her. In that moment, she was absolutely certain that no matter what, she was not going to let anything happen to him.

She was the Slayer. She had lived under Riley's thumb for too long, and was certainly not going to allow him to defeat her now. If he was going to hurt Spike, she would go down herself first. And if she was going to go down, she was going to go down fighting.

She looked back at Spike again, and saw his questioning look as he subtlely shifted the gun in his hand, knew what he was wondering. She shook her head slightly as she turned her attention back to the guards. He could not use the gun himself, but if he tried to throw it to her, his sudden movement might draw the fire of Riley’s men – and she was certain that their guns would be equipped with the standard issue wood-tipped bullets that all of Riley’s men were given.

She was determined that no matter what happened, they were *both* going to walk out of here alive. Well – not dead, anyway.

She kept her eyes on the guards and her voice calm and even as she addressed Riley without looking at him. “Panic button?” she guessed.

He nodded with a satisfied smirk. “Should’ve checked under the desk, Sweetheart,” he chided her.

“You panic easy,” she muttered with resentment, never taking her eyes off the armed men who stood perfectly still, their weapons trained on her and Spike, but waiting for Riley’s command.

“You had a gun to my head, Buffy,” he reminded her slowly, with exaggerated patience. “Who *wouldn’t* panic?”

She shrugged in a display of false unconcern. “Okay. You’ve made your point. We’ll just be getting out of here now.” As she spoke, she quickly slid the signed paper off the desk into her hand, still watching the soldiers as she crumpled it and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans.

Wrinkles in the paper did not matter – only the signature mattered.

Riley saw what she was doing and reached to stop her, forgetting for a moment that she was no longer the powerless, submissive girl she had been until recently. Her vicious elbow to his ribs reminded him, driving home the foolishness of his attempt, as he doubled over in pain.

Gasping for breath, unable to speak, Riley gestured frantically for his men to attack – just as Buffy launched into action.

The command was completely unnecessary, as the soldiers had just been attacked themselves by a furious Slayer on a mission – not something that any of them wanted to mess with. Fists and feet flew in too many powerful blows to count, as the men still attempted to surround her, to subdue her, only to end up becoming targets of her well-aimed assault.

She began to wonder when they did not even attempt to use her guns, choosing instead to try to match her blows and fight her without the use of weapons. It was a foolish move on their part, she thought with a shrug, but she was not complaining.

*Works for me!*

Five minutes into the fight, three of the men were unconscious, two more were injured too badly to stand – and the Slayer was still going strong on the remaining seven. Riley stood behind his desk, watching, knowing that his strength was nothing compared to that of any of the combatants. Spike stood near the wall, watching intently, determined to join the fight if she needed him, regardless of the chip. As it was, however, she was holding her own, and he knew that to join in now would hinder her more than it would help her.

Suddenly, one of the soldiers who had been knocked to the ground, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle and unable to rise, struggled desperately up on his arms, turning his body around to face the Slayer. With trembling hands, gasping for breath, he reached for the weapon he had holstered at the beginning of the encounter.

Riley had ordered them to take her alive, but it was clear by this point that without the use of their weapons, they were all going to die.

Buffy never saw the gun as it was raised in the soldier’s hand and he took aim at her back.

Riley saw it, and yelled out in a voice of fury, “*No*, you fool! Stop!”

Spike saw it too, his eyes widening in helpless horror as the soldier raised his second hand to steady the first around the weapon, preparing to fire. And in that moment – when he saw the deadly weapon trained on Buffy, who was completely lost in the battle, never suspecting that she was seconds away from death – something snapped in Spike.

What happened to him – the unspeakable pain he knew the chip would cause him if he tried to defend her – did not matter. All that mattered was Buffy, and saving her from the fate she did not even know was about to befall her.

He raised the small black pistol in his hand and took aim at the back of the soldier’s head, pulling the trigger without a moment’s hesitation. Immediately, he cringed, his hands going to his head in anticipation of the terrible agony he knew was coming, to punish the unpardonable offense of taking the life of a human being.

Absolutely. Nothing.

That was what he felt, in the next few seconds. Not even the slightest electric tingle emanated from the tiny leash in his head, despite the violence of his actions. He looked up at where the soldier had been, wondering if he had possibly missed? But no, he thought, that should not make any difference, as the punishment of the chip was based on the intent, not the success or failure, of his actions.

His eyes widened in shock as he stared at the spot where he expected to see the bleeding body of the man he had just shot – and instead saw an unmistakable pile of vampire dust.

*Must have blown the bugger’s head clean off!* he realized with a measure of pride, even before the magnitude of what had just happened fully hit him.

And then it did.

Riley’s guards were vampires! But…how was that possible? he wondered. All vampires were required to be chipped. So how were they able to carry guns, to attack Buffy as they had done? He did not have time to think about it now.

“Buffy!” he shouted, trying to catch her attention above the noise of the battle still going on, as he jumped into the fray himself without any further hesitation, keeping the gun in his hand.

He was a better shot than he had realized, he thought with pride – and vampires, he could fight. He was not useless to her anymore, unhampered by his chip against this particular enemy, free to fight for her and come to her aid in the fight against the half dozen guards who remained.

And not a moment too soon.

It had taken her a while, but finally, the Slayer was growing weary – and more than a little distracted. The roar of the gunshot had scared her badly, knowing that there was no way the sound could be good. If it was one of Riley’s guards’ guns going off, and she was not shot, there was only one other person they could have been aiming for – and if it was the gun in Spike’s hand going off, he would not be much better off, with the chip in his head.

She had wanted to check on him, but the remaining few soldiers were relentless in their assault, and she had been too busy fighting for her life, unable to risk looking over her shoulder and giving them any advantage at all.

The sound of his voice was a tremendous relief to her, and she felt a tremor go through her body at the welcome sound. But she still had no time to enjoy it now. “What?” she called, throwing another – weaker – blow at the soldier standing in front of her at the moment, struggling to get a grip on her to restrain her.

Suddenly, she felt a hand slip into her back pocket and gasped in shock, nearly whirling around to face her accoster.

“Just me, Slayer,” Spike said quickly, holding up the stake he had just liberated from her pocket. “They’re vamps! We can take ‘em, love!”

“What?” Buffy asked, stopping for a moment in disbelief, staring at him.

It was all the opportunity the soldier she was grappling with needed to strike her a stunning blow, knocking her backwards a few yards to the floor.

*Well *that* was bloody helpful, mate,* Spike sarcastically berated himself, taking up the fight where Buffy had left off with the unlucky vampire, fighting him back. Unlike the weary Slayer, Spike was fresh and ready for the fight – the first he had had in far too long.

Buffy shook her head, dazed, as she struggled back to her feet, amazed at the sight that met her eyes. She watched in shocked disbelief as Spike plunged the stake into the heart of the soldier he was fighting, and he disintegrated into dust before her eyes. She was no less stunned than she had been at the sight of her first dusted vampire.

“They’re vampires,” she whispered, still barely able to comprehend it. “But – how…?”

“We’ve covered that, love,” Spike said tersely, throwing a couple punches at another advancing vampire soldier, trying to get past him to the distracted Slayer. “As to the latter – we’ll get to it later. We’re a bit busy at the moment, in case you’d forgotten,” he reminded her as he dusted the vampire easily.

Four to go.

Galvanized into action by his words, and by the beautiful sight of Spike, in all his fighting glory, every bit as amazing as he had ever been in battle, Buffy leapt back into the fight, determined that he would not fight alone.

A huge vampire lunged for her at that moment, as another one swung at Spike with a heavy club. Buffy managed to get in a couple of good blows at the towering giant of a vampire, but he was incredibly strong, and he struck her a powerful, stunning blow that slammed her back into the wall.

“Buffy!” Spike yelled, turning to help her – and taking a vicious blow in the back with the vampire’s club. He whirled around with a grimace, knowing that he would not be much help to her if he was dead – he had to focus on the fight he was currently in the middle of first.

“Buffy! Are you all right, love?” he called, frantic with fear when she did not respond.

She couldn’t. The breath had been knocked from her body by the vicious body kicks of the lumbering vampire above her. Spike glanced over his shoulder again, enraged by the sight of the fallen Slayer, struggling uselessly to rise against the savage beating she was currently being dealt.

He was further enraged when his own opponent struck him again with the club. Without hesitation, he turned to face him again, pressing his pistol directly against the vampire’s throat and pulling the trigger – indeed, blowing the vampire’s head completely off. Not wanting any further distractions, he aimed the weapon at the remaining two, already advancing on him, and eliminated them with two carefully placed shots, before turning his attention on Buffy’s attacker.

He reached up to grip the giant’s arm and spun him around with an effort. He shrugged lightly up at the furious vampire, suggesting, “She looks about done, mate. Why don’t you try a real fight?” He punctuated his words with a brutal blow to the vampire’s face with the gun in his hand.

Within moments, they were locked in a violent struggle, as Spike tried to move the fight away from the fallen Slayer, tried to give her time to recover. But she was not moving; she seemed barely conscious. He wanted to go to her, but had to defeat his enemy first. Back and forth they fought, neither really able to gain an advantage. The other vampire was bigger, but he was faster and smarter. He could not as easily dispatch this opponent, because he could not aim as precisely as with the other, smaller vamps he had decapitated with the gun.

Finally, he managed to get back a little distance between him and his opponent, aware that his back was to the wall, but thinking that it would not matter in a few seconds. He pulled the trigger, and the bullet sailed straight and true into the vampire’s throat -- but did not decapitate him. Still, the big vamp was effectively out of the running, collapsing to the floor, gasping in an old reflex reaction, desperate for breath he did not need.

It was only then that Spike noticed Riley, standing directly behind where the large vampire had been – directly in the path of the gun. A million thoughts went through his head at that moment. It would hurt, yes – badly – but he could eliminate the threat that Riley posed right now with a single action. Buffy would forgive him – would probably not even mind. He could do it. It would be worth it, he thought.

And in that moment – Spike’s thoughts betrayed him.

The moment that he decided that he was *going* to shoot Riley – with the gun aimed at the man’s chest – the chip fired with a vicious intensity, and he gasped in pain as his legs failed him, and he collapsed to his knees on the floor, the gun still clasped tightly in his hand as both hands raised to clutch at his head. He was utterly unaware of anything but the pain as Riley slowly walked up to him, smiling cruelly, and took the weapon from his hand.


Buffy struggled against the wave of darkness that had overwhelmed her, beaten badly by the huge vampire, the blows she had taken to her head claiming her consciousness. But after a few dazed minutes, wakefulness gradually returned.

Where was she? What had happened? Why was she on the floor? She vaguely remembered the fight, the giant that had been attacking her – Riley – and *Spike*! She opened her eyes suddenly, struggling awkwardly to rise from the ground.

“Spike,” she whispered, her vision still a little blurry as she pulled herself up, bracing herself on the wall for support.

As her vision slowly cleared, her eyes widened in horror at the sight that met her eyes.

About ten feet away, Riley stood smiling at her coldly, his arm outstretched toward something on the floor. As her vision came into focus, she realized what “it” was.

Spike.

He was kneeling on the floor, leaning against the wall, gasping in pain. It was obvious after seeing it enough times that he was recovering from the aftermath of the chip’s assault. But his eyes were downcast, and he was frozen with fear.

The gun in Riley’s hand was pressed hard against his temple, forcing him into the wall menacingly. Spike was defenseless against him, a human, and clearly terrified of the wordless threat Riley was making.

Buffy’s mind raced, horrified by the sight. *It couldn’t kill him,* she reminded herself. *Couldn’t kill him. Not by shooting. It’d be horrible but – he’d survive.*

Riley looked up at her, smiling coldly, and spoke softly, as if reading her thoughts.

“Ever wonder what would happen if you shot a vampire in the head?”