“Don’t tell me I survived being kidnapped, locked up in a dungeon, chased and shot at by a bunch of deranged, psychotic soldiers, managed to avoid the patrols and made it back here safely – just to get shot by a paranoid, trigger-happy ex-Watcher…” Anya paused, taking in the shaken, haggard appearance of said ex-Watcher, who had aimed a pistol at her and Aaron before the door was even fully open. “…who apparently also needs to lay off the caffeine” she finished, eyebrows raised.

“Dear Lord,” Giles breathed out, relief evident as he gestured them quickly inside. “Come in, quickly now. Were you followed?” he asked automatically, realizing even before Aaron spoke the futility of the question.

“Does it matter?” the vampire asked darkly. “Buffy and Spike were holding them off when we left, but they could be right behind us any minute. They know where we are. It’s where they took Anya from in the first place.”

A grim, thoughtful expression came over the Watcher’s face as he took that in, remembering Riley’s intent to kill them all that night. “We have to leave this house at once,” he concluded quietly but firmly.

Having already reached that conclusion for himself on the way home, Aaron nodded. “The question is – where should we go?”

Giles thought for a moment, frowning. Where could they possibly go where Riley’s men would not think to look for them? His own rarely used apartment, Xander’s and Anya’s home – completely unsafe. Far too obvious. Both homes were probably being watched at that moment. He tried to think of a place where they would actually be safe, that Riley would never think that they might go.

A light of inspiration came to his eyes as a slow smile spread across his face. “I know just the place,” he said softly, before looking up at the expectant pair, waiting patiently for his direction. “Let’s get everyone ready – we must leave at once.”

He led them on into the living room, where Aaron immediately went to Julian’s side, eyes wide with surprise and alarm. “What happened?” he asked, looking up at Giles with a concerned question in his eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”

Giles sighed heavily, his eyes coming to rest again with deep sorrow on the suffering young vampire, as he was painfully reminded of Julian’s rapid deterioration.

“Julian was Riley’s assassin. He refused to obey the command to kill me – and this is his reward,” he stated bitterly. His voice softened as he went on, without taking his eyes from the boy. “Irrefutable proof that, as I’ve said, the capacity of a vampire for good can indeed equal – even surpass, in this case – that of a human. I was right.” His voice lowered to a whisper as he struggled to maintain control of his emotions. “But at the moment – I can hardly feel any sense of satisfaction in that victory.”

Willow, who had come to stand beside them, began to explain softly, “The chip’s firing, and it’s just gonna keep on firing until…”

“Until we find a way to stop it,” Giles interrupted in a tearful voice that was still made of iron. “We *will* find a way!”

Willow looked at him, dismayed by the desperate certainty in his voice, aware more with each moment that Julian’s hope was quickly fading away. Still, she nodded reassuringly. “Right,” she gently agreed. “Just as soon as we get out of here.”

Aaron stepped closer to the distraught older man, meeting his eyes with compassion, but a firm determination in his eyes, as he spoke quietly, “We need to leave here first -- *then* try again to save Julian. Because if Riley’s men find us here – they’ll kill us all, *including* Julian.”

The simple reason in his words brought the Watcher out of his tumultuous emotions long enough to realize that he was right.

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat, drawing his shoulders up with a look of resolve. “Quite right.” He turned to Willow. “Get your laptop and equipment. Aaron and Mara, get Julian to the van. Tara, Anya – come with me, we need to wake Xander and be on our way…”

The ex-vengeance demon, unaware of the calming spell that had been put over her very concerned, distraught in fact, husband, stood there staring incredulously after the witch and the Watcher as they started up the stairs, before hurrying after them, repeating in an outraged tone,

“*Wake* Xander? I’m kidnapped and in peril of my life, and he’s *asleep*?”


“Do you have any idea how bloody hot you can be when you’re all dangerous and intimidating like that, love?” Spike asked Buffy with a little smirk, pulling away from her kiss and taking her arms to hold her back from him in a teasing way. His eyes were sparkling with laughter and a light-hearted anticipation that Buffy had not seen there in a very long time.

The chip was about to stop working.

In a matter of a few short hours – he was going to be free.

“Do you have any idea how dangerous I can be when I’m this bloody hot?” Buffy shot back, imitating his wording in a low, suggestive voice, a wicked smirk on her own face as she freed her arms and reached for him again.

He easily evaded her attempt, laughing as he spun out of her reach and back around to face her, his tongue visible between his parted lips in a gesture that was both teasing and seductive. “You want me, Slayer?” he taunted with a challenging smirk. “You’re gonna have to come and get me!”

The playful tone of his voice, the renewed life and vigor in his eyes made Buffy’s heart soar. She knew how excited he must be, how thrilled at the prospect of having the cruel piece of technology that had made him helpless reduced to a meaningless bit of metal with no effect on him.

He was about to be restored.

The anticipation was almost tangible, a physical energy that they could feel crackling all around them, infusing them both with a sense of expectancy, a passion that fueled their ever-present desire for each other. They had nothing but time, as they waited for the chips to go down, locked in this high-security room where the soldiers who were seeking them would not have the clearance to enter.

They were really as safe as they could be while still in this facility, Buffy thought. And in a very short time, Spike would be free to help her fight their way out, and to total freedom.

Just the thought of her vampire being restored to his former glory, to the magnificent power in his fighting that she had always regarded with a sort of awe, even when it had been directed against her – it only made her want him more. Come and get him, he had said?

Buffy smirked. She couldn’t think of a better way to kill two hours.

She lunged toward him, feinting one way and then unexpectedly moving with him to catch his arms and pull him in for an intense kiss. Her hands left his arms to embrace him, as his arms slid around her, and she began to back him clumsily, blindly, toward the wall, her eyes closed and her mouth never leaving his.

She opened her eyes when she felt the impact of his back hitting the wall, surprised, to see him smiling against her lips, his eyes hooded and hazy with desire as he drew back to give her a proper smirk.

“You gonna take advantage of a poor helpless vamp, Slayer?” he teased in a low, husky voice that quickened her arousal. “Can’t even fight back?”

She returned his smirk, her eyes darkened with desire for him, wrapping one leg around behind him and trailing it slowly up the back of his leg, pressing his lower body in closer to her, her smile widening when he reacted to the increased contact, releasing a low groan as his swollen need pressed harder against her.

One hand rose to the back of his head, fingers stroking hard through his hair as she pulled him in for another deep, intimate kiss, before pulling his head back to look into his eyes, her own glittering with wild desire.

“You better believe it,” she replied, moving in for another kiss. “And besides,” she went on, fitting in the words between kisses. “…soon you won’t be…helpless at all…and then…”

She drew back, and his mouth moved forward with her, seeking her stolen kiss, and he let out a frustrated little growl of protest as he opened his eyes to look into hers – and was startled by the suggestive promise they held as she finished,

“*You* can take advantage of *me*!”

The very thought was so arousing, the look in her eyes so enticing, that Spike could not hold back a moment longer. He suddenly grabbed her and spun them around so that her back was to the wall, pushing her against it roughly, but careful not to hurt her, claiming her mouth in a bold, forceful kiss before pulling away from her gasping, needy mouth to growl, “Can’t wait!”

His hands roved up and down her body with a fervent intensity, his knee edging up to part her legs, as one hand slipped down between them in a teasingly light touch. Her head fell back and she gasped at the sensation, her arms rising to wrap around his neck, her body thrusting up toward his hand.

He withdrew it with a wicked smile, enjoying the rare sense of power as she whimpered, “Spike – Spike, please…”

“You want me, Buffy?” he asked against her ear, his cool breath and warm tone sending a shiver down her spine.

“*Yes*!” she gasped. “God, *yes*, Spike! Please – need you – need you now!”

“Buffy,” he whispered, his hand returning to its gentle work, as he pulled her in for another kiss. “Love you, Buffy…”

“Aw – looks like I’m interrupting happy time.”

Riley’s voice from near the door was the ultimate mood-killer, as the Slayer and her vampire lover immediately parted, and Buffy turned to face her husband, standing just inside the closed door, and already aiming a small gun at her chest.

They had not even heard him come in.

Buffy’s immediate reaction was to step in front of Spike, knowing that Riley did not want her dead, but probably intended to kill Spike. She could hear the low, warning growl in the vampire’s throat, knew that he wanted to attack, to protect her – also knew that he could not. She glanced quickly around the room, taking in the complete situation, just trying to *think* through the haze that still clouded her mind.

*Stupid, stupid, stupid!* she berated herself furiously for allowing herself to lose control like that, to let her guard down even for a moment while here in the enemy’s camp.

Riley was blocking the exit, and his weapon was already drawn and ready. She knew that they could not escape past him, and she could not draw her weapon faster than he could fire. But then, she remembered, if she could only keep herself, not Spike, in Riley’s line of fire – he would not fire at all.

She shifted her position slightly, trying to prevent any chance of Riley’s getting a clear shot at Spike. As she did, she glanced down at the still unconscious doctor beside the desk, and up to the darkened computer screen with a sense of relief. A simple automatic power save feature on the monitor would prevent Riley from knowing about the fact that the chips would soon be down.

She glanced at her watch hopefully. *Just another – hour and a half,* she realized, her heart sinking with disappointment. *Okay, Buffy. It’s up to you to get the two of you out of here…*

“Aw, how sweet.” Riley’s voice was soft, but mocking, a hate-filled smirk on his face. “You’re willing to take a bullet for you little pet, Buffy?” His tone was derisive, belittling. “That’s just – idiotic,” he finished, his eyes narrowing and his tone hardening.

Buffy’s eyes were angry as she reached for her own weapon, taking aim at her husband. She knew that Riley did not intend to kill her – so she would call his bluff. The fact that he did not pull the trigger on his own weapon even when she aimed her gun at him only confirmed her theory.

Unnervingly, Riley just laughed in surprise at her actions. “Buffy – Sweetheart,” he said in a patronizing tone, “You’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t have it in you to kill a man…”

“And where does the part about my not shooting *you* come in?” she shot back dryly, not wavering in her aim or her resolve.

“Funny,” Riley said flatly, his tone suggesting that he really thought it was anything but. “Come on, Honey. Drop the gun. I’m not gonna hurt you. I just wanna talk.”

“Right,” Buffy replied sarcastically. “Just like the guys you sent before to tell me you wanted to *talk*? The ones who attacked me?” She shook her head. “I’m not interested in that kind of conversation – or any other kind with you, Riley. Now you’re going to let us pass – or I’m going to pull this trigger.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Buffy – and where we’re different,” Riley said in a soft, unsettling voice that held an odd note of triumph. “Because for all you tough talk -- *you* won’t pull the trigger. You’re not capable of it.”

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of, Riley,” Buffy replied grimly, her eyes focused on him, not moving. “And I happen to know,” she went on, a smug note entering her voice as she took a step closer to him, “you don’t exactly have it in you to kill *me*, Riley – for whatever reason – so I think I’ve got a bit of an advantage here. Because right now, the idea of shooting you sounds downright appealing.”

Riley’s cold smile widened slightly as he said in a soft, disarmingly gentle voice, “Who said anything about killing you, Buffy?”

Before she could react, process the words, he had pulled the trigger. There was no time to move, to think, as Buffy felt the impact in her chest rock her backwards, and stared up at Riley, wide-eyed and disbelieving, her hand flying to her chest as she dropped her own gun. She looked down, stunned, drawing her hand away from the place, wondering for an instant why there was no blood – before she collapsed to the ground, her eyes closed.

“*Buffy*!” Spike cried out in shock and anguish, dropping to the ground beside her, putting an arm around her and lifting her shoulders off the floor, feeling gently of the spot where Riley’s weapon had been aimed.

*No, no, no!* his mind raced toward panic, barely registering that there was no blood, that her heartbeat was slowed slightly, but still steady and strong. His hand encountered an odd object, pinning her blouse to her flesh, and he carefully removed it, staring at it, hardly comprehending in the shock of the terror that had come over him upon seeing her fall.

It was a tranquilizer dart.

“Oh, she’ll be all right,” Riley said in a light, careless tone as he stepped casually closer. “She’s right – I don’t want her dead.” His smile faded, his eyes hardened, as he amended, “I want her *back*.”

He paused, glaring down at the kneeling vampire, staring up at him, still in a state of shock. Spike never saw the vicious kick coming until in connected brutally with his ribcage, slamming him backward away from the fallen Slayer, leaving him coughing and gasping for unnecessary breath that had been knocked from his body.

“Everything was just fine until you came along and stole her from me,” Riley went on calmly, slowly advancing on Spike to deliver another savage kick that knocked him back to the floor just as he was struggling to rise. “But I’m gonna show her once and for all that she should never have left me,” Riley added with a cruel smile. “You’re not worth it.”

Spike couldn’t argue with him there – even if he could have drawn the breath to speak. Buffy was lying on the ground, unconscious, helpless – and he could not lift a finger in her defense. He was utterly useless, he agreed at that moment, as he looked up again with distress at his fallen Slayer.

“Oh, don’t worry, she’s okay,” Riley assured him, noticing where he was looking. “I didn’t hit her with too much. Just enough to keep her unconscious long enough to get her restrained properly.” His smile was cruel as he added softly, “Wouldn’t want her to sleep through the whole show.”

A chill went down the vampire’s spine at the sadistic menace in his voice, as the hulking soldier started toward him again. His words and tone brought to memory the brutal torture he had endured at this man’s hands, the savage night of unbearable suffering that had triggered a flood of painful memories to resurface, leaving him broken and vulnerable in the wake of the incident.

He drew back automatically as Riley advanced, but found that he had been backed into a corner, and could not escape as riley grabbed him by the throat and pulled him up, holding him against the wall with a grip too tight to allow for breath. In a rising panic, Spike struggled, trying to pull Riley’s hand away from his neck, until he managed to accidentally hit the larger man, and his chip fired with searing intensity.

Spike’s conditioning kicked in with the punishment from the chip, and he stopped struggling instantly, going still in Riley’s grip, still gasping futilely for breath, but not daring to fight anymore.

“That’s it,” Riley said softly, in a mockery of gentleness that was all the more threatening. “That’s better. You don’t wanna give me any more reason to hurt you, Spike. You’re already gonna suffer enough.”

Spike looked past Riley to Buffy, still so very silent, unmoving, on the floor, his eyes wide and desperate with fear – for them both – though at this point he did not dare attempt to speak.

Riley glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, I told you, it’s okay!” he insisted with a mockingly friendly laugh. “She’s not hurt – just like taking a nap. She didn’t feel a thing, I promise. She might have a bit of a headache when she wakes up, but that’s it.” He smiled coolly. “Wouldn’t wanna hurt my girl.”

He paused, raising the gun and pressing it to Spike’s chest for a moment. “You, on the other hand,” he went on, all humor fading from his voice. “I *really* wanna hurt!”

Spike barely had time to register the words as Riley raised the gun and smashed it down brutally across the side of his head, triggering an explosion of pain that lasted only a moment, before everything around him was swiftly and suddenly swallowed up in darkness.