Chapter 28

A/N: I don’t like angst!!! So here endeth the angst. Well…a full chapter of it anyway. Some of you know and some don’t. This chapter is the first of the three chapter finale. It’s almost done, and I’m feeling a little sad about it. I love this story. It was my first. It’s my baby.

Oh, and before I forget, smooches to Kumi!!! She has worked overtime with me to get this chapter beta’d, reworked and reworded. Thank you!! Now on with the show.

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Beautiful and deadly.

Travers almost felt a twinge of affection for Buffy, but that trivial emotion paled in the face of what she could give to him. His gaze left her face and landed on her belly. Even in her unconscious state, she held her child, shielded her, protected her. It would all be for naught. Buffy would never have to wonder about her daughter after today. The child, and he would have to think of a name for her, would never know her real parents. She would only know him. He would be her entire world, and she his.

Everything had gone according to plan, except for Dawn’s escape. It did not matter. There would be time to get her blood and complete the ritual. All that mattered was the child. Once she was safely settled into her new home, he would go about ensuring their future. There would need to be safeguards put into place to protect her from the demon world and from the First Evil. Travers had no doubt this shift in the forces of good would bring about a counterattack by the First, but he hoped Buffy’s death would balance the scales. Of course, Rupert was so caught up in his love for his Slayer, he hadn’t considered the effect the birth of this “miracle child” would have on the world. No, all Rupert could see was his Buffy, his pseudo-daughter and the fact she was happy and pregnant. No thought whatsoever given for the fate of the world.

Warren shifted in his seat, drawing his attention.

“Why so glum, Warren? Are you worried Ms. Summers will awaken and attack you? I can assure you she will be unconscious for some time.”

Warren guffawed and turned back to stare out the back window. “So you say. What happens when she does wake up? Do you have a plan to prevent her from killing all of us?”

Shackleford looked in the rearview mirror at the occupants. Warren was a coward. The Slayer had given in without much of a fight. The only casualty had come, not by the Slayer’s hand, but by her sister’s.

Travers allowed a smile to peek through the mask he wore. “My dear chap, Ms. Summers will not be in any position to harm anyone. If you haven’t noticed, she’s pregnant and more than likely, in labor. Have you not seen the way her body tenses? She’s in pain, and will not do anything to risk her child. She will cooperate for the sake of her baby. You have nothing to fear from her.” He said, patting his pockets for his handkerchief.

Warren smirked, but said nothing. He’d been on the receiving end of too many ass beatings to believe Buffy wouldn’t make them all pay for taking her child. He just hoped the drugs lasted long enough for him to kill her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Red…I can’t feel the baby anymore.” Spike uttered. The sadness in his voice, momentarily jarring Willow from her incessant redialing of Tara’s phone.

Willow held her breath, willing her voice to be steady and strong. “I’m sure that’s because you’re conscious now. I’m sure Buffy and the baby are fine. You know, Anya. She was probably just over exaggerating.” She hoped that was the case. Tara. She called out with her mind, trying to touch her lover.

“Don’t!” Spike gritted out. Willow jumped, not from fear, but from shock. “Don’t pretend. I’m blind, not dumb.”

Willow’s eyes watered. “I know.” She said softly. “I’m just as scared as you, Spike, but we can’t think…”

“Can’t think what, Willow? Can’t think that our loved ones aren’t in the hands of some demented fuck, who thinks he’s god?” Spike could smell her fear, and it fueled his demon. It wanted to rush out into the sun to protect its mate and child.

Willow didn’t want to think. She wasn’t stupid or naïve. Somehow the barrier had come down, and that meant something, no someone had prevented Tara from erecting it again.

Spike paced, there was nothing much to do in the time it would take for Giles to get to the Jeep. He tried to will his love across the miles to Buffy, to give her strength and love until he could get there.

“Where is he?” Spike demanded, straying too far off the path he’d taken, and running into his chair. “Bloody hell! Fuck!” He shouted, gripping the chair and flinging it across the room. Only Willow’s power kept it from smashing against the wall.

“Stop it, Spike! He’ll be here. You’ve got to save your strength. If you don’t calm down, you won’t be of any help to Buffy and the baby.”

She saw Giles racing across the cemetery, and said a prayer of forgiveness to the goddess. “He’s here, Spike. You’re going to have to hold onto my hand, and I’ll guide you to the car.”

Spike shuddered as the reality of his blindness hit him. He wouldn’t be able to help Buffy. Hell, he couldn’t see her or their enemies.

Willow saw the pain flash across Spike’s face, but steeled herself. They didn’t have time to allow Spike to wallow in self-pity, no matter how brief it would be. “Can you see if you change?” She hoped her question would distract him till she got him to the car, but she was curious as well. Spike shifted his features and stared at her with yellow eyes. He could make out her general shape, but nothing solid. It was better than nothing. He felt the blanket being draped over his head, covering as much of his skin as possible.

“Are you ready?” Willow asked, as Giles opened the back door.

“Thanks, Red.” Spike mumbled under the heavy wool cocoon.

“Not a problem.” With her arm around his waist, they stepped out into the sunlight. Willow shoved Spike inside and slammed the door behind him. She quickly hopped in, and they were on their way. All of them praying, they would make it in time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn skimmed the roof carefully, taking the same route she’d taken the night of Buffy’s birthday. The night her world had tilted on its axis. She’d left that night in confusion and pain. This time she left in hopes of bringing help for Buffy and the baby. This time she had a purpose. Buffy was relying on her. She couldn’t fail her.

Mike raised his gun in the air, tracking the sound of footsteps as they made their way to the tree on the side of the house. He saw the lanky teenager, he believed her name was Dawn, nimbly traverse the limbs. Holstering his weapon, he waited unseen for her to appear.

Dawn dropped to the ground, clutching the crossbow tightly. The manhole on Gardner Circle would take her to the crypt, but she had to make it across the backyard without being seen. She tried to remember every lesson Buffy or Spike had given her, and concentrated on her surroundings. Hearing nothing, she sprinted for the gate.

Mike saw the scared teen, and incorrectly assumed she wouldn’t pose a problem. He jumped out, grabbing for Dawn. She reacted purely on instinct, pushing the crossbow into his chest, knocking him off balance. His arms failing, Mike reached for her, only to be felled by a kick to his groin.

Dawn rushed past him. She made it to the gate, only to have Mike yank her back hard, slamming her down on the ground.

“You little bitch. You’re gonna pay for that.” The crossbow had fallen in front of her, and Dawn kicked her long legs, striking small blows to Mike’s chest. He grabbed for her ankle, twisting. Dawn howled in pain, but swept her other ankle, catching him on the jaw. Mike’s grip on her ankle lessened and Dawn heaved forward and grabbed the crossbow. She felt her leg lift as Mike began to drag her back into the front lawn.

“Ahh!!!!” She screamed against the pain, aiming the weapon at the hulking man. She squeezed the trigger, her eyes closing briefly. When her eyes opened, all she saw was blood and the unconscious man. She didn’t stay to see if he was alive or dead. She ran.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy felt the pitch and roll of the van as it rolled to a stop. She’d been wavering between awareness and sleep for sometime, but couldn’t quite force her eyelids open. She’d heard talking earlier in the ride, and knew that Warren and Travers were beside her. She didn’t know where Dawn and Tara were, and could only hope Travers had left them alive at the house. She suspected he did. He wanted her. He wanted her baby. Tara and Dawn would have gotten in the way. God, she hoped her instincts were right.

She winced as she felt another contraction, and fervently hoped it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions and not the real thing. Even if it were labor, she hoped it wasn’t a signal that something far worse had resulted from her fall.

Buffy folded her hand into a fist, her nails cutting into her skin. The spasm passed, but the tingling she got from her wedding band remained. Spike…The surgery. Oh, god…she was supposed to be there when he got home. He would be alone, scared for her, feeling guilty.

Spike, my love. She whimpered.

Travers heard her and smiled.

“You’re awake. Good.” He said, his concern genuine. “How are you feeling? I know you’re in some pain, so please tell me the truth. I have a doctor available to see to your needs.”

“Where’s my sister? Where’s Tara?” Buffy demanded, already knowing the answer, but needing to be sure Dawn wasn’t up front.

The back door to the van opened, and Warren hurried to get out, wanting to put as much distance between a conscious Buffy and himself. If there was going to be bloodshed, he’d wait inside to see who survived.

“Don’t worry about them. They are alive and well. My concern lies with you and your child.” Travers admitted, his eyes trained on her stomach. His leering made Buffy nauseous.

“Your concern is a lie, considering your actions put me and my baby at risk.”

Travers sighed. Impudent young woman. Never knew her place or how to respect her elders. “My concern is real, Buffy. I mean your child no harm.”

Yeah, and I’ve got prime real estate over the Hellmouth. “Then let me go, and leave California.”

Travers sighed again and stepped out of the open doors.

“I’ll be leaving soon enough, Buffy. I can assure you this will be the last day you’ll see me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The silence was as oppressive as the darkness that surrounded him. He wished they would say something, anything. Give him false platitudes. Make him feel better, but don’t leave him to his own devices. He’d spent over a hundred years visiting every dark impulse on humanity. He knew evil. He knew fear, and now it was choking him like a noose around his neck.

“Giles?” Spike’s voice reached the watcher from the protection of the blanket covering him.

“That’s my wife and child in there.” He said, as if Giles or Willow needed to be reminded. “Or not.” He added, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Please.”

Willow bit her lip to keep from crying.

“I know, Spike. We have to hope the police arrived before…” Giles’ statement drifted off because he knew in his gut, they were too late. They had been betrayed, and because of that, Buffy was probably already on her way out of Sunnydale.

“Willow, when we get there, if Buffy and Dawn are indeed gone, I want you to start gathering the ingredients for a locator spell. Travers will have a good head start on us, but hopefully, he won’t have time to block Buffy’s signature.”

Willow nodded. “Tara should have all the stuff in her bag. You don’t think they would hurt her do you?” She had avoided thinking about her lover, knowing if she did, she might lose control. And she didn’t want to lose control. She didn’t want to touch the darkness she’d felt at Rack’s place all those months ago.

“I just don’t know, Willow.”

“How in the hell did they know we were even gone?” Spike groused.

“We were careful.” Willow commented. She glanced at Giles, waiting for him to offer an opinion, and noticed his grip on the steering wheel.

Her eyes widened. He knew something. Something that he was unwilling to share with them. Willow reached out and touched a hand to Giles’ arm. He looked at her hand briefly, but wouldn’t look her in the eye, all but confirming her belief that he was hiding the truth. Her eyes pleaded with him. They deserved to know.

“Giles?”

The uncertainty Spike heard in Willow’s voice had him raising up off the seat.

“Watcher?”

Giles sighed deeply. He was angry, hurt, in disbelief, but he couldn’t deny them what he knew.

“Rupert?” Spike asked again. His mind was bombarding him with all kinds of scenarios. Had they given themselves away somehow? Missed a tail? Spoken to the wrong person?

“When Anya called, she told me…” Giles took a deep breath. “She told me Hallie overhead a conversation in a bar about you, Spike. A conversation involving the removal of your chip. Halfrek didn’t think anything of the conversation. But she felt it was important enough to mention it to Anya.”

Willow had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. Oh, goddess no. Please not him.

Under the blanket, Spike was coming to the same conclusion. His face shifted and he felt his control slipping. He would kill him. If Buffy died, if the baby died, Xander would know why he was called Spike.

“It was Xander, wasn’t it?” Willow asked, hoping Giles would say it wasn’t.

“Yes, it was.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dawn was beyond tired, beyond scared. She had reached new levels of terror in the minutes she’d been running. Her body ached and protested, but she couldn’t afford to stop. She couldn’t afford the time it would take to get moving again. Her body was already straining and protesting the pace she’d employed since dropping down into the sewers. She had to get to Spike and Giles as soon as possible. Buffy and Bitty were counting on her. She didn’t know if her aim had been true, but she couldn’t risk stopping and having Travers’ man catch her. They needed her blood or so they thought to complete the ritual. What would happen if they tried the ritual a second time on the baby? The ritual almost killed Buffy the first time. A second ritual might take them both. Dawn shuddered. No, she wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t.

Dawn slowed, noting the difference in the air around her. It was cleaner, fresher, meaning the crypt opening wasn’t too far away. She nearly cried with relief. Soon, she’d be in Spike’s arms and they’d be on their way home. Soon. She just had to keep going. It wasn’t much further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clem whistled softly as he pushed open the door to the crypt. He juggled the bag of blood and snacks he’d picked up for Spike and his friends. He figured they’d be tired after the surgery, and he wanted to do his part to make sure everyone was comfortable. Who knew how long Spike would need to rest before they took him home?

“Hello, it’s me, Clem. Just brought some stuff for you guys to eat.” He called out. He placed the bag down on top of the sepulcher and peered over into the lower crypt.

When he didn’t get a response, he decided to climb down. He knew there was a possibility his buddy could return to his old ways, but Clem was a romantic. He believed that Spike loved Buffy far too much to go back to the demon he once was. There were those demons who’d bet against the vampire and the vampire slayer, but Clem wasn’t one of them. They were his friends. He’d watched their relationship grow from the very beginning. Nah, Spike wouldn’t hurt his friends.

He still climbed down the ladder slowly, fearful of what he would find. He spun around, checking on either side of him, like he’d seen them do in his spy movies. The place was empty. No sign of Spike. No sign of Willow or Giles. All of their things were still there, so where were they? A noise from behind the curtain had Clem grabbing a charred piece of wood for protection.

He crept as stealthily as his floppy body would take him and stood to the side with his weapon raised high, ready for attack.

Please be a rat. Please be a rat. He chanted. Oh, not a rat. Not a rat. He said when he saw the curtain pushed aside. Squeezing his eyes shut, then opening them as he realized he wouldn’t be able to strike at whatever was coming through with his eyes closed. He dropped the board, breathing out a sigh of relief when he realized it was Dawn.

“Dawn!”

Dawn halted, staring at Clem with grateful eyes. “Buffy’s in danger.” She told him, then promptly passed out.

“Oh, my.” Clem stated, moving faster than he thought possible. He caught Dawn before her head smacked the floor, and cradled her. “Dawn? Dawnie?”

Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the makeshift operating table Willow made out of a coffin. What to do? What to do? He had no experience with humans, other than that guy from the night before.

Patting her cheeks, lightly, Clem continued to call Dawn’s name. “Wake up, Dawn.”

Dawn groaned and her eyes flickered open. “Spike?” She said groggily.

“Nope, it’s Clement.”

Dawn smiled at the goofy _expression on the demon’s face, rising up on her elbows. “Clem, where’s Spike and Giles? They’ve got to get to the house. Travers’ men attacked.”

“Whoa, Dawn.” He told her, laying his hands on her shoulders. “They’re not here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy eyed the doctor and nurses, her contempt a slap to their faces. She knew which of them had no conscience or concern for her plight and which one did. The nurse who stood silently beside the bassinette could not look her in the eye. The others glanced at her without fear or remorse. It was a job and they were being well-paid for what they were about to do.

“She’s not in active labor.” The doctor commented. “We can proceed as planned with the Caesarean.” Buffy’s eyes widened in fear.

“I’m only seven months. She’s not strong enough to survive.” Surely they realized that miracle child or not, Bitty would be a preemie.

Dr. Wachs considered Buffy’s statement before answering. “There is every assurance your child can be delivered safely. She will have inherited the strength and healing powers of her parents. Don’t worry, my dear, she will be fine.” He said, patting her arm reassuring.

“Fine?” Buffy spat. “You’re giving her to this bastard and you think she’ll be fine.”

If Travers was offended by her curse, he didn’t show it. “Dr. Wachs, we need to start. We are on a schedule as you know.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll need a number 2 scalpel.”

Buffy shook her head. “No! You can’t do this. Please! Don’t do this!” She screamed, pulling at the straps on her arms and legs. “Please don’t take my baby!

Her pleas were ignored by Travers and Shackleford, who stood at guard at the door. This was getting tedious and he was anxious for this to be over, so they could leave.

“I can’t concentrate like this. We’re going to have to put her under.” Dr. Wachs told his staff. The anesthesiologist hurried to get the oxygen mask on Buffy.

“No!” She yelled, thrashing her head against the pillow, making it nearly impossible for the nervous doctor to restrain her.

A nod from Travers brought Shackleford over, and he grabbed Buffy’s head, slamming it down onto the table. She was dazed by the blow and moaned in pain. “Please don’t.” She whispered as the gas took it effect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The scene outside the house was eerily reminiscent of the day of Joyce’s death. Police cars and yellow tape. Ambulance and curious neighbors. Had they made it in time to stop Travers from abducting Buffy? What had the police found when they arrived?

The presence of the morgue van had Willow clutching her stomach in fear. Giles steeled himself for what lay ahead, knowing he would have to be the one to inform Spike if the body was one of his girls.

“Sir, you’re going to have to go around.” The police said as he approached the car.

“This is my daughter’s home.” Giles answered. It wasn’t a lie. Wasn’t the truth, but right now that was unimportant. The police woman nodded and waved them past.

Spike sat up, his skin shielded by the blanket.

“We’ll be right back, Spike. I know you want to …” Giles said, turning in his seat to face Spike.

“Don’t waste time worrying about me, Rupert.” Spike reached out, his hand searching for Giles’ shoulder. “Find out if my girls are alright.” Spike commanded, relieving Giles of the need to explain his actions.

Willow was already out of the car, and up the stairs. She took in the battered down door, the broken glass, before she found Tara, laid out on the couch with paramedics checking her over.

“Tara!” She cried, thanking the goddess for protecting her. “Oh, baby, I was so worried.” She said, falling on her knees at Tara’s head. Her hands ran over Tara’s face, followed by her lips. She was so grateful and relieved.

Tara touched Willow’s hand, stilling her kisses. “They got Buffy and Dawn.” Tears fell unchecked down Tara’s cheek. “I don’t know how they got through.” She blamed herself. Blamed her magic for not being strong enough to keep the house secure.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetie. It wasn’t.” Willow pulled Tara into her bosom, heedless of the paramedics and police surrounding them.

Giles called out for Buffy and Dawn, drawing the attention of the lead detective.

“Sir, there’s no one else here.” He informed Giles. “Ms. McClay told us the owner and her sister were abducted by Warren Mears. The same man who attacked Mrs. Develin a few months ago.”

Giles ran his fingers through his graying hair. This wasn’t a shock or a surprise, Detective Graves noted.

“Do you have any idea where he’s taken them?”

Detective Graves pulled Giles to the side. “No leads at the moment. There’s evidence he wasn’t alone. We found a body on the side of the house. It wasn’t one of the Summers’ women.” The detective said hurriedly, when he saw the concern on Giles’ face.

“Do you have any idea why is he fixated on Mrs. Develin? And you? You are the owner of the Magic Box?”

Giles shook his head. Time was of the essence, and the police had outlived their usefulness. They hadn’t arrived in time. Now, it was time for him and Willow to get to work. “I have no idea. Buffy was in the wrong place at the wrong time when she was shot by Warren. I guess he blames her for foiling his plans. Don’t you think you should be out there looking for them, instead of asking me pointless questions?”

Detective Graves knew Rupert Giles wasn’t being forthright, but his lack of cooperation was only harming the ones he cared about. “Where is Mrs. Develin’s husband? I would have thought he’d be here.”

“He’s in the car. He’s had some minor surgery. We’re waiting to bring him inside because of his skin condition.”

Detective Graves’ brow quirked. How many times had he heard that one?

“And before you ask, he’s been with us since this morning.”

“Fine.” Detective Graves retorted. “We’ll leave a squad car here if you like. I doubt Mr. Mears will be back. We’ll contact you if we hear anything.”

Giles shook the detective’s hand and resisted shooing him faster out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike closed his eyes. There didn’t seem to be any point in keeping them open. All he saw was darkness. All he felt was darkness. He couldn’t feel the light anymore. He heard voices outside the car. People talking, speculating on the latest trouble at the Summers’ home.

He sensed Giles’ approach, and part of him warred with wanting to know Buffy’s fate and another parted wanted to remain in denial, imaging her safe and sound, but unable to come to him.

There was a knock at the window, and Spike moved to the farthest end of the seat.

Giles poked his head through the door, checking Spike’s position before he opened it completely.

“Spike…”

“I know. She’s not here.”

Giles closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “No, she isn’t.” He admitted sadly. “Dawn’s missing as well, Spike.”

Spike whimpered, trying desperately not to breakdown completely. “Glenda? Is she alright?”

Giles smiled tightly. “Yes, she is. Groggy and a little bruised, but she’s going to be okay. Are you ready to head inside?” The sun was still high, but the tree branches afforded some shade. If they moved quickly, Giles could get Spike inside with minimum damage.

Did he want to go inside their house when his girls weren’t there? The Summers women had given him a home and a family. Revello wouldn’t seem the same without their presences.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clem pulled his hat down over his ears and hunched over the steering wheel. He generally didn’t drive during the day, but they needed to get to the house fast, and the sewers wouldn’t do.

Dawn sat huddled next to him, in shock, he thought. She had said very little to him, other than to thank him for saving her. She’d tried to call Giles’ cell, but the line had been busy.

“Buffy’s strong, Dawn. She’s been through a lot. She’ll get through this.”

Dawn smiled at the gesture. “Thanks, Clem. I’m just hoping Spike and Giles got to them in time.”

Clem slowed down, noting the steady stream of police cars coming towards them. Dawn noticed them too, and for the moment, she felt hope that this horrible nightmare was over.

As soon as he pulled up to the house, she was off, the pain in her ankle, bearable as long as she could get to Buffy and Spike.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After checking on Glenda, Spike had asked to be left alone. He’d climbed the stairs slowly, each step a chore. He felt the weight of Buffy and Dawn’s absence more acutely as he neared their rooms. His hand ran along the wall, touching family photos, hearing in his mind, conversations and laughter. He stopped outside the nursery, and it hit him.

His little girl was gone. His Bitty, his hope was gone.

Giles stood at the bottom of the stairs and saw Spike collapse. He’d known it wouldn’t be long before the dam broke. He knew there was no comfort he could offer the man.

“Buffy!!!!!” Spike cried. He felt as if a thousand needles were jammed into his stomach. The pain of their loss was crippling.

“Oh, god, baby! I’m so sorry!” He curled into a ball, trying to take in their scents, trying to imprint their spirits on his own dead body.

The front door opened. Giles’ eyes widened when he saw Dawn. She had heard Spike’s wail from outside, and knew she needed to get to him.

“Spike!” She said, pushing past a stunned Giles. She fell at Spike’s feet. He was too gone in his grief that he didn’t feel her touch his leg.

“Spike! It’s Dawn!” She crawled behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding on as his body shook with the force of his tears. “Shush! I’m here, Spike. We’ll find Buffy and Bitty. We’ll find them.”

“Buffy…”

“We’re not going to lose them, Spike. Don’t give up hope. Please.” Dawn said, wanting nothing more than to cry herself.

Hold on Bitty. We’re gonna find you. Dawn concentrated, hoping to tap into the connection she had with her niece. Hold on, sweetie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surrounded by his friends and family, Spike had never felt more alone. He didn’t know how long he’d lain in Dawn’s arms before he realized she was there. She was safe, and once again, Buffy had saved her life.

He was grateful for Dawn being safe, but his soul was missing, and until Buffy and the baby were home, he wouldn’t feel complete.

Tara and Willow had a map of Sunnydale stretched out on the coffee table, and were mixing strands of Buffy’s hair into a mixture for the location spell. So far, they’d had no luck.

“Travers has a strong cloaking spell around Buffy. I can’t pick up anything.” Willow offered helplessly.

“We’ll keep trying, though.” Tara said, hearing Dawn gasp. “We just need to figure out what he’s using. There are only so many combinations he can use.”

Giles paced back and forth, wanting to rush out into the night, but knowing there were many places within and around Sunnydale for Travers to hide. His mood wasn’t helped by the frantic phone call he’d received from Olivia. She had finally broken her silence. Giles had barely contained his anger long enough to hear what she’d had to say. She’d suspected something had gone terribly wrong when she hadn’t heard from her operative, a spy her superiors had placed within Travers’ inner circle. Not willing to risk his assignment nor his life, she’d held back on contacting Giles, but now, she feared he’d been discovered and killed.

“Reginald Smythe-Bailey?” Giles responded, incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He’d demanded.

“You didn’t need to know, and once we discovered Travers’ surveillance, it was too much of a danger to you and Reginald for him to contact you.”

“That’s no bloody excuse and you know it Olivia. You could have emailed me. You could have done something. We could have done more to protect Buffy.” Silence greeted him, and he sighed. He knew of Buffy’s dream, her belief that Xander would betray them. He knew and yet, did nothing, even after Xander had discovered his relationship with Anya. He knew Xander was a loose cannon. He should have handled the situation better. Now, Buffy was gone, and they were helpless as her babe.

“I’m sorry, Rupert. We will do everything we can on our end to discover where Travers has taken Buffy.”

“Thank you, Olivia. I am sorry about Reginald. I would have liked to have met him.” Giles turned the phone off, rubbing his temples.

“So, they knew and did nothing to help us.” Spike stated. Giles forgot the superior hearing of a vampire, and with the blindness, it was probably heightened.

”They…” Giles started, but knew there was no defense he could offer that Spike would accept. There never would be. Spike’s whole life was wrapped up in Buffy and his child, and they were gone.

“Spike, is there anything else of Buffy’s that she’s strongly attached to that we can use for the spell?” Tara asked. She was standing in front of him, that much he could tell. She had the nicest scent, calming and soothing. He knew it wasn’t any perfume she wore. It was her natural presence.

“Mr. Gordy. She loves that pig.” He smiled as he remembered a conversation they’d had recently.

“Are you going to let Bitty play with the pig?”

Buffy snatched her precious pink pig away from him, cuddling it against her bosom. Lucky pig, Spike reflected.

Buffy nibbled her lip. Could she give up her pig? “Of …course, I will.” Buffy told him, smoothing the worn fur down. She chose to ignore the smirk he gave her to that statement.

“And his name is Mr. Gordo.”

Spike chuckled, rolling onto his side to watch her. “How long have you had Mr. Gordo anyway? Aren’t you a bit old for that?”

Buffy stuck her tongue out, which was an invitation if he’d ever seen one. So Spike answered, kissing and nibbling on her lips, till she was panting.

“Hmm.. nice.” Buffy said dreamily. “I’ve had him since I was 6. Mom gave him to me. I stayed with my grandparents over the summer. Mom was in her eighth month with Dawn, so I stayed with Granny and Granddad. They had a piglet on their farm. We were good friends. When I went home, I had to leave him.” She was pouting, and Spike had to resist the urge to tug at her sweet lips again.

“So Joyce gave you your very own piglet.” Spike smiled, thinking that was purely Joyce.

“I thought she was the best mother in the world.” Buffy sniffed, wiping at a tear. “He was waiting for me on my bed when I got home.”

Spike sat up and pulled Buffy into his arms. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

“Joyce was a wonderful woman and mother.” He finally said, once he got his emotions in check.

“She was.” Buffy held Spike close, letting his love soothe the ache she felt from her mother’s passing. She was getting better. Everyday she was in his arms, she felt the loss a little less. It would always be there, but then so would Spike, and Buffy knew she’d be alright.

“Buffy..” Spike whimpered. His eyes closed as if he could close out the pain of her disappearance and Joyce’s death. Instead, he found himself not in a blindness-induced darkness, but in a watery, black darkness. He sensed the being with him. Bitty.

“Daddy.” She cried, reaching out with her mind, holding him tightly within her grasp.

“Daddy’s coming, baby. Hold on.”

“Daddy!” She screamed and he felt her wrenched from his mind, as the doctor removed her from Buffy’s womb.

“Buffy!” Spike screamed, scaring the living daylights out of the women surrounding him. He heard Dawn’s voice, teary, but strong, calling to him.

“Spike, wake up!” Giles shouted, shaking Spike till his teeth rattled.

A bright light flashed on the map, and Willow jumped excitedly. “I see them.”

“Where are they?” Giles said, peering down at the twin points of light. He removed his glasses, squinting to read the street name.

”Allegheny and Stokes. That’s near the old airport.” Willow commented. “That would make perfect sense. They probably have a private jet.”

“I’d say that was a definite.” Giles dialed the number to the detective who was at the house earlier. There was no time to be secretive. They would need all the help they could get.

“Detective Graves, Rupert Giles, we have a lead on Buffy’s whereabouts. We think they are in a house in the area of Allegheny and Stokes.” Giles held his hand over the mouthpiece. “Get whatever supplies and weapons you’ll need.”

”We’re wasting time, Watcher. Let’s go.” Spike was already at the door, opening it with no concern for the straying daylight left.

“Spike! It’s still some sunlight left. Wait up!” Dawn admonished, grabbing his blanket off the sofa. Willow and Tara were shoving vials into their bags and were right behind them.

”Thank you, Detective Graves. Goodbye.” Giles had hung up on the man mid-sentence, but there was no way he was going to heed his advice to stay put.

Spike’s hand was on the door, when it opened slowly. Xander was startled to see them all in the entryway, and he shuffled his feet nervously.

Spike knew it was the whelp and the demon struck out, seizing Xander by his shirt and lifting him up against the door. It took all of Spike’s control to keep from tearing his throat out. He growled at Xander, relishing the fear he sensed in the man.

“Spike, put him down!” Giles commanded, tugging ineffectively at Spike’s arm.

“Spike! We don’t have time for this!” Dawn pleaded, not so much for Xander’s life, but for her sister’s and niece’s.

Spike dropped Xander to the floor, and spun away, putting as much space between him and the gasping man.

“What do you want, Xander? Come to cause more trouble or to view your handy work?” Dawn spat, moving over to Spike and wrapping her arm around his waist.

Xander shied away from Dawn’s angry words and hate-filled gaze. What in the fuck was going on?

“I didn’t come to cause any trouble. I just wanted to check on Buffy. See if everything worked out okay. That’s all.” He said, struggling to stand. They were looking at him like he’d killed Miss Kittyfantastico, and he couldn’t understand where all this venom was coming from.

“To see if everything is okay?” Giles said. “Are you really this stupid or could you possibly have no idea what you’ve done?”

Spike shook his head. “We don’t have time for this. Buffy is waiting on us. You can sit here and babysit him. I’m going to get my wife.” Dawn threw a final scathing look at Xander as she pulled the blanket over Spike’s head. If she had to, she’d drive the Jeep. She really hoped she didn’t have to.

“What? I wouldn’t. Giles, you know me.” Xander said, attempting to defend himself.

“I thought I did.” Giles stood for a moment in the doorway, framed by the fading light. “Willow, if you want to stay, I understand, but Buffy needs you. You and Tara.” He said, before he ran down the stairs to the car.

Tara touched Willow’s shoulder. Her touch telling Willow it would be alright if she wanted to stay with Xander, but also conveying Tara’s decision to go and find Buffy. There was no real choice for Willow.

“I have to go, Xander. I’m sorry.” She said, leaving a stunned and very confused Xander in the empty house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xander slumped in his chair, rubbing his head with his right hand. The desire to call and check up on Buffy had been burning in his gut since that morning. He should have called. And said what? He didn’t understand what was going on. All he did know was the fact everyone blamed him for what had happened. Had he said something Saturday night?

Things were still fuzzy, but he was sure he would have remembered a one-on-one with Travers. He and Dewey were out at the bar. When he spoke to him on Sunday, Dewey didn’t mention them running into anyone scary. And Travers was scary in Xander’s opinion.

The pieces to the puzzle where finally coming together, and the picture wasn’t pretty.

Dewey? Likeable, beer guzzling Dewey. The same Dewey who didn’t show up for work today. The same Dewey who’d appeared in Sunnydale the same week that Travers came to town.

Xander stood up, his stomach lurching.

“Oh, god!” He moaned.

Dewey was working for Travers. Dewey had been playing him the whole time, setting him up. And he’d fallen into the trap. He’d betrayed his best friend, and now, she was missing. Xander stumbled out the door, losing the battle with his stomach on the front lawn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s a healthy little girl. She’ll need to be in the incubator, but that is only as a precaution.” Dr. Wachs told Travers as they watched the baby being cleaned and weighed.

“There are no indications that her early birth will have any effect on her health?” This was everything Travers had hoped for. The child was viable and healthy. “Are you sure she will be able to travel?”

“Oh, yes, most assuredly. She is breathing on her own, and at 5 pounds 7 ounces, she is well within normal limits for a premature baby. She will be fine. Don’t worry, Mr. Travers.”

Travers nodded. “Thank you, Doctor. Your services were greatly appreciated. My associate will wire the money to your account as soon as we are airborne.” Travers gazed at Buffy, unconscious on the table.

“How long till she awakens?”

Dr. Wachs looked over his shoulder at his patient. “She should be out for another thirty minutes, but her physiology might metabolize the anesthetic faster than that.”

“Thank you, again. If I need your services in the future, I will be in touch.”

Travers shook hands with the doctor, and turned back to his most prized possession, the baby. Dr. Wachs took the opportunity to check Buffy’s sutures. He knew she would probably be killed, but he didn’t want it to be said he did shoddy work. Satisfied, he pulled his gloves off and discarded them, already counting the money he would be receiving.

”We leave in thirty minutes. Make sure you are ready to leave then.” Travers told the nurse. He reached out to touch the sandy blonde curls littering the baby’s head. At his touch, her eyes opened and she screamed.

Shaking his head at the annoying sound, Travers motioned for Shackleford to follow. They left the room, closing the door on the high-pitched wails.

Bitty’s cries, shrieks really, pierced the cloak of sleep Buffy was under, and she awoke. She was still groggy, and it was difficult to open her eyes, but she did. She could make out the blurry shape of a woman.

“Bitty.” Buffy said, her voice dry and cracked. “My baby.”

Joanna heard the softly voiced plea and spun around, shocked that Buffy was awake. It was so much easier to forget this woman, when those hazel eyes weren’t staring at her. She was never happier than when the anesthesia was administered. Then, and only then, could she raise her gaze from the floor. Then, she could detach herself from the crime she was committing, and concentrate on her job.

“You… you need to be quiet or they’ll put you back to sleep.” She said as she turned back to the baby. The cries which had been so painful to hear had quieted once Buffy had spoken. In fact, the baby seemed to sense Buffy was her mother.

“Can I hold her?” Buffy bit her lip to keep from crying out. “Please let me see her? Please!”

Joanna shook her head. It was too risky. She smiled at the blue-eyed child, who seemed to stare into her soul. Joanna looked away, ashamed at the part she was playing in separating mother and child.

Stay detached. Stay detached. Take care of the child.

“He’s an evil man.” Buffy said. “No matter what he’s told you. He won’t love her. Not like her father and I will. Please. Help us.” Buffy pulled at her restraints, feeling a little give. The anesthetic on her legs was wearing off. She just needed time. Time to regain her strength, but she wouldn’t be able to escape on her own.

“I can’t help you. Now, please, don’t make any noise.” Joanna tugged the pink skull cap down onto Bitty’s head, covering the wild curls.

“She’s innocent. He’s a monster. Please.” Buffy begged. She yanked at her binding, wincing as the leather cut into her skin. Any pain was worth it for Bitty.

“I’ll be with her. I’ll keep her safe. I promise you.”

Buffy whimpered. “You’re not her mother.”

Joanna’s gasped. She turned, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I can’t help you, but you can see her. But not for too long.” Tucking the end of the blanket around Bitty, she brought the child over to the operating table.

Buffy swallowed against the lump in her throat. She was beautiful.

“Hello, my precious.” Buffy begged silently for Joanna to bring Bitty closer, and she did.

Buffy pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead, breathing in her scent deeply, imprinting it to memory.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet Bitty. Mommy and Daddy will find you. I promise you we’ll be together again.”

Bitty’s little body shuddered deeply and her eyes drifted closed. Buffy wanted to hold her, shelter her, but she heard voices in the hallway. Her time was up.

“They’re coming. Please take care of her.” She pleaded.

“I will. I promise.” Joanna hurried to the door, opening it before Shackleford could.

“It’s time.” He said, glancing at the table. Buffy had her head turned away from him. Shackleford’s eyes narrowed, but Joanna’s discreet cough stopped his perusal of Buffy.

“I need to get her into the incubator as soon as possible. I know her grandfather would not want her to become ill.” She said, knowing this man feared their employer as much as she did.

“Let’s go.” He said, escorting them down the hallway. Buffy’s head snapped around, as she strained to catch a final glimpse of Bitty as she left the house.

“No.” She cried, pulling her arm. The leather drew blood, but she didn’t care. Nothing matter except Bitty.

“I knew the anesthesia wouldn’t last long on you.”

If looks could kill, Quentin Travers would have died at least ten very painful times.

“I will kill you, Travers.”

Travers hooked his thumbs inside his vest pockets. “The time for idle threats is over, Ms. Summers.”

“Mrs. Develin, you pillock!”

“Mrs. Develin, it is. Things could have been different, Buffy. You could have cooperated, and been allowed some contact with your Catherine.”

Buffy’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Her name isn’t Catherine.”

“It is now.”

The blood seeping out of the cut on Buffy’s wrist was sticky, but also provided lubrication. She could feel her wrist sliding ever so slowly out of the bond.

“You’d better hide her really well, Travers, because when I find her, I will make you pay for every second, every hour, every day, we’ve been apart. Spike and I will not rest till we find her.” A few more tugs and her wrist would be free. A few more minutes and her hand would be around Travers’ throat, crushing his windpipe.

Pulling an antique watch fob out of his vest pocket, Travers looked at it, and snapped it shut. “You’ll be resting soon, Buffy, so I’m not really concerned about you or your vampire. Oh, I think there’s someone here who wants to see you.”

Warren stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Betcha thought you’d seen the last of me?” He quipped, staring at her. Buffy shifted, till was half lying down, half on her side. The position allowed her to conceal her left wrist, which was nearly free from the constricting cuff.

Buffy wasn’t afraid of Warren. She feared for Bitty, once Travers discovered he was too late, that ritual was done, and there was nothing he could do to ever turn Bitty into his own personal weapon.

Warren strode over to him, his arrogant stance didn’t fool Buffy. He was afraid, and he had every reason to be afraid. Travers and his men were gone, leaving Warren alone with her, with Spike on the way. She knew he was coming. Could feel him getting closer. She could also feel Bitty moving further away, but she couldn’t give into that sorrow, she had to stay alive to find her.

“Leave now and I won’t hurt you much. Stay and I can’t promise Spike won’t rip you to shreds.” She was going to enjoy hurting him. She really was. How many months had she lived in fear of this little puissant, and for what? Doing the right thing. He’d nearly killed her baby several times, and now, he had helped to take her away. Oh, yes, she was going to enjoy making him hurt as much as she did right now.

Warren resisted the urge to look behind him. Spike wasn’t here to save his precious Buffy. But he was puzzled as to her demeanor. Why wasn’t she begging for life? Pleading with him to let her go? He knew this was a risky venture. He should take his money and run for the border. Killing Buffy would only incense Spike even more, but he wanted to make her hurt. He wanted to her to know he was the ultimate winner in their battle.

“Bold words for someone strapped to a table with her belly sliced open. That’s going to leave a scar by the way.”

“Do you think?” Buffy said, wincing as her hand slipped out of the cuff and the blood rushed back into the area. “Do you think we won’t make you pay for all you’ve done? Do you think because you were working for Travers that you’ll get away? Killing me won’t stop Spike or Giles from torturing you, then keeping you alive to torture you again.

One thing Buffy knew she had in her favor was the fact Warren was a coward deep down. He was afraid, probably petrified of being caught by Spike and Giles. “Spike doesn’t have his chip. He doesn’t have anything to keep him in check.” That was a lie, but Warren didn’t need to know that. “You will learn why he’s called Spike, and when he’s finished, then he’ll kill you. The best part is that you’ll still be the loser you’ve always been in the end. Nothing will have changed.”

Warren’s nostrils flared as Buffy’s insults and threats had the desired effect. “You’re the one who’ll be dead, bitch. You’re the one who’ll never see your child again. My face,” he said, pointing the scalpel towards his chest, “will be the last face you see. You should have never come back, Buffy.”

Warren raised the scalpel high above his head, swinging it down in an arc towards Buffy’s chest. Buffy blocked his arm, using her considerable strength to push him back against the wall.

Warren hit the wall with a thud, the scalpel falling out of his hand, and skidding across the floor. Buffy struggled to sit up, her strength returning, albeit slowly. She twisted to undo the strap to her other wrist before Warren regained his senses, which she doubted he actually had, since he was still here.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled at the cuff, finally wrenching it free of the pin that held it together.

"I'm gonna enjoy killing you." Warren shouted as he slapped Buffy across the face. She fell back onto the table. She felt Warren's hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life out of her. She pushed at his hands, but fueled by hatred and adrenaline, she was hard pressed to loosen his hold on her throat. Images of Bitty and Spike and Dawn and all she had to live for, spurred Buffy to fight harder. She felt lightheaded, and resisted the urge to give into unconsciousness. Spike needed her. Bitty needed her. She needed them.

The little dot glowed brightly, nearing burning a hole through the map. Willow pointed at the end of the street, and Giles drove the Jeep up onto the front lawn. A patrol car was behind them, having watched Giles run three stops signs.

Spike bounded from the jeep, his eyes tinged demon yellow. He scanned the area, using all his senses to feel for Buffy. He picked up her heartbeat and her fear. He growled and with a burst of vampiric speed and instinct raced up the walk, crashing through the door. He had no idea where he was or what was up ahead. All he knew was Buffy, and she was dying.

"Spike, wait! You can't go in there…" Dawn's mouth dropped open as Spike entered the house unencumbered. "Did you see that?"

Dawn turned as the police screeched to a halt behind them.

"Bollocks!" She said, borrowing a term from Spike's dictionary.

"Down on the ground!" They yelled, drawing their weapons.

"We called you, you nitwits!" Giles shouted as he knelt on the ground. He glanced at Willow, who nodded slightly.

"Away!" She screamed as she raised her hand. The two officers flew over the hood of their cars, blown aside as if by a gale force wind. They were dazed, but unharmed.

"Dawn, stick close to Willow and Tara. We don't know who's left inside." Giles commanded as he stepped over the broken door.

He could hear the sounds of a scuffle, and ran quickly towards it. The sight that greeted him stunned him motionless. Spike's demon was loose. Warren had a large gash on his forehead, and there were definite claw marks on his chest.

Buffy lay motionless on the table. The front of her gown was stained with blood. Her wrists and ankles were rubbed raw. She was pale and haggard.

Willow, Tara, and Dawn rushed to her side. Willow touched her fingers to Buffy's neck, noting the red finger-shaped marks marring her skin. Her pulse was weak, but steady.

"She's alive, Giles."

Giles hesitated as he moved closer to Spike, wondering if the trauma of the day had finally taken it toll on him, and he'd lost it.

"Spike, Buffy's alive. Warren isn't worth killing. He'll get his." Any other time, Giles would have noted the irony of the situation. He wanted nothing more than for Spike to rip the little piss ant apart for harming Buffy and Anya, but right now, getting Buffy to a hospital had to take priority.

Buffy stirred, her eyes opening slowly. "Spike." She called out weakly. "Spike."

As if the world finally made sense to him again, Spike's demon mask fell and cornflower blue eyes gazed over his shoulder at his wife on the table.

"Buffy…" He moaned, dropping Warren without a backward glance. He reached out blindly for her, and the same magical force that allowed him entrance to the house, guided him to Buffy's side.

"Buffy." Spike whimpered when he felt her hand grasp his. The moment she touched him, he knew.

"She's gone, Spike. They took our little girl." Buffy sobbed. Spike gathered her up, holding her tightly as the truth came to light. Travers had Bitty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the plane taxied down the runaway to their new lives, Joanna gazed at the sleeping child. Fatigue had finally taken its toll on the little one, and she’d fallen into a fitful sleep.

Joanna tried to forget a pair of hazel eyes begging for help. She tried to forget the way mother and daughter gazed lovingly at each other. Joanna wouldn't forget her promise. She would protect little "Catherine". She would make sure she was loved. It was her penance for her role in stealing "Catherine's" life.

"To a job well done." Travers saluted Shackleford. "A few minor glitches, but all in all a successful mission. We have the child. In a few months, we'll have the blood of the Key."

"Just tell me when and I'll come back personally to retrieve the package." Shackleford promised.

Travers smirked. He knew it galled Shackleford to lose not one, but two men. It wasn't so much that he held any affection for Lande or Mike. It was the fact he'd been bested by women. It chafed his balls, and not in a good manner.

"I have no doubt of your success."

Dewey looked out the window, bidding a fond farewell to Sunnydale. If he never saw this part of California again, he'd consider himself lucky. He was going to head to his villa, and relax for the next few months. Spend some of his fee on a real woman and some quality food and liquor. Then, and only then, would he accept another job. It was going to take him that long to get the stench of cheap food and beer, swamp water and mosquitoes out of his system.

Shackleford raised his glass to Travers. "Congratulations, Grandpa."

------------- ------------

TBC....

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