Mustard Seed, Chapter 5

Jun 28, 2006 00:54

Chapter Five: Fun

"So," Riley III said, sitting down next to Lorne. "How'd I do?"

"Not bad," Lorne allowed. "You've got quite the interesting history, and quite the interesting future, if you play your cards right."

"What are you going to tell the Slayer?"

"Now, that's the sixty-four million dollar question. You want her to trust you. She's not sure she can. In fact, she's pretty sure she can't. Especially with what Spike's told her about your grandfather."

"From what Granddad's told me about Spike, they didn't like each other very much." Riley drew circles in the damp rings that previous occupants had left on the table.

"Give that man a gold star for the understatement of the year. There's a lot of backhistory between your granddad and Spike. Most of it's bad. However, you and Spike are going to have to work together, if you want to get the Slayer out of there, and if he wants to get his wife back."

"I can let bygones be bygones. If he can."

"Well, there's a question. You're the spitting image of your grandpa. Hang here. Let me make a phone call." Lorne walked back behind the bar and dialed Spike's number. "Spike? How's Dru? That's too bad. Listen, is there any way you can get her to come out? I've got someone here at the club that you really should meet. He's from the Initiative." The phone squawked. "No, he's okay. I did a reading on him...All right. I'll tell him. I'll be by later...Yeah. Bye."

He hung up and made his way back over to the table, after picking up a Seabreeze from Phil. "Here's the scoop, ace. Right now, Spike is dealing with a little problem at home, and he can't leave unless someone else is there. He's agreed that you can come over." Riley III opened his mouth to say something, but Lorne held up his hand to forestall him. "We're all going through a very difficult period right now. Your boss has Spike's wife. And Spike's best friend got killed last night. What's more, Spike blames himself for that--and he may be a teeny bit justified. What I'm saying here is, tread lightly. Remember that he's probably not very happy with the Initiative right now, and that you, like it or not, personify the place. Got me?"

"Gotcha."

Lorne scribbled Spike's address on a cocktail napkin and wished Riley III luck.

***
"Dru, pet?" Spike said through the door. "We're having company in a little while." No response. He opened the door slowly. She sat cross-legged on the bed, arms around her belly, rocking back and forth. Hans sat on the floor, his head on the comforter, looking up at her face. Her eyes were huge, and dry. Awkwardly, Spike sat down next to her. He'd never been much good at consoling people, especially when they were hurting because of him, and he had no idea what to do or say for her. He settled for putting his arm around Dru's shoulders and squeezing gently--half-fearing, half-hoping that she'd take his head off for his trouble.

She didn't, though. She leaned into him and allowed him to stroke her hair. "I'm so sorry, baby," he said. "So, so sorry..."

"I know," she answered quietly. "I know you didn't mean to." Pongurml fell off her shoulder. He'd failed in his mission. So far, anyway. He wasn't leaving just yet. "Oh, God, Spike. What's going to happen to us?"

"Honestly, I have no idea. But there's a visitor coming over in a bit that I think we both need to talk to."

She sniffled a little. "I'm a mess."

"You're entitled, sweet. If what Lorne told me about him is true, he won't care."

"Who is he?"

"He's from the Initiative." She sucked her breath in, and he hastened to reassure her. "Lorne wouldn't send him over if he wasn't safe, would he? He's not bloody daft."

As if on cue, a soft tap came from the front door. Spike and Dru exchanged a glance, then he rose and gave her his hand to help her off the bed. They answered the knock together, Hans trailing behind them, and Pongurml riding invisibly on Dru's shoulder.

Spike nearly had a heart attack when he saw who it was. Three shocks in as many days were too many for him. He staggered over to the armchair and sat down. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he wheezed.

"Holy cow," Riley III said. "Lorne said I was the spitting image of my Granddad. I had no idea. You must be Spike?"

"Yes, and I'm Dru," she said. "Do come in. Lorne said you're from the Initiative?"

"Riley Finn the Third. Pleased to meet you both." He walked in and sat on the couch. Dru perched on the arm of Spike's chair.

Spike lit a cigarette with a shaking hand. "That's just bloody great," he muttered. "There's three of them."

"Look, I'm sorry about barging in on you guys like this. Lorne told me a little about what you're going through. But my boss has the Slayer, and I don't think his motives are, well, pure."

"Oh, and what was your first bloody clue? When they kidnaped her, or when they shot me in the head to get me out of the way?"

"They shot...jeez, are you okay? I mean, you look okay..."

"Right as bloody rain." Spike took a deep drag from the cigarette and huffed the smoke out. "Listen, I don't know what your Granddad's told you about his relationship with me, but let's just say that we didn't part on the best of terms and leave it at that. And it looks to me like you're following in his footsteps. Didn't he warn you about going to work for those wankers? Why should we trust you?"

"That's a very good question." He ran his fingers thru his short-cropped hair. "The Slayer asked me the same thing. I guess all I can say is that she sent me to Lorne, and he sent me here. And I have to point out, for a Slayer and her sidekicks, you guys sure do put a lot of trust in a demon."

"Don't you start on Lorne," Dru said softly. "He's a good person, and he's on our side. Jury's still out on you."

"But the jury came back on Spike," Pongurml whispered in her ear. "He got Dusty killed. What are you going to do about that?"

"Shut your mouth, you horrid beastie," she answered. Spike and Dr. Finn looked at her in surprise. "Pixie," she told them, as if that explained everything.

Spike took a deep breath and stood up. "Dru, pet." His voice was gentle. "Don't you think you should go rest?"

"Perhaps I should. It's very late, isn't it?"

"Yeah, baby. Go to bed. I'll come in later and see if there's anything you need."

After she closed the bedroom door behind her and Hans, Riley III asked, "Pixie?"

Spike put his hand over his face for a second. "She hears voices sometimes. Or she used to. Now she's hearing the sodding things again, apparently." He sat down wearily. "The last three days have been hard on every one of us. Her most of all."

"Not you?"

"My wife is still alive. Her husband isn't. World of difference there."

"Her hus--" Riley added two and two together in his head and came up with a very unpleasant four. "Lorne said something about your best friend?" he said quietly.

"He was killed last night by a pack of Sciurian demons. My bloody fault. Shouldn't have left him. But I did. And now their baby's going to grow up without a daddy, and she's back on the brink of bloody insanity. All because I couldn't keep my sodding temper in check." Spike stubbed the cigarette out angrily. "Bloody hell. Anyway. You're not here to listen to our tale of woe. What can you tell me about my wife?"

"She's a tough cookie. Won't even tell us her name. I think she'd like to get Major Carlisle alone in a room for thirty seconds."

"Great minds," Spike mused. "So...why are you here?"

Riley described the observation room reaction to Mandy's annihilation of the Yanfarl demon. "The way they were talking made me a little...uncomfortable. My Granddad told me what happened the last time they tried to build a super-soldier. I don't need a disaster like that on my conscience."

"Pesky things, consciences. Well." Spike regarded his visitor. "What do you want to do?"

"Break her out of there."

Spike gave a bark of a laugh. "You don't want much, do you? For God's sake, man, you bloody work there. You should know that we can't just waltz in and take her out. Or, do you have a plan?" Riley's face went blank. Spike rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell. I was afraid of that."

***
The microbot had been programmed for vampire control. His scientists had assured Major Carlisle that it should work the same for humans, although it had never been tested on them. Smaller than a gnat, and created using nanotechnology, it could hardly be seen with the naked eye.

The Major had decided that he didn't want to rely strictly on Dr. Finn being able to form any kind of relationship with the Slayer. He wanted a backup. If she wouldn't cooperate, well, they had methods. While she slept, Carlisle put his plan into action.

He decided to handle it personally. The bot was programmed to start up with a spoken keyword. He carried it to the Slayer's cell and released it. He couldn't see what it did next, but he had confidence in his people, and they had told him that she wouldn't feel a thing.

With miniature, transparent wings, the tiny robot propelled itself toward its target. It landed on the back of the sleeping Slayer's neck and made its way under her hairline, then burrowed through her skin. It found a suture joint in her cranium and bored into that, and through the protective membrane that covered her brain. The bot navigated into a convenient fold and began extruding long filaments, thinner than hairs, throughout her cerebrum. It started emitting electrical pulses, putting her into a state of deep delta-wave sleep.

***
"Sir?" His secretary sounded afraid, Brachus thought. "Angelus is here."

"Thank you. Send him in."

He had to admit that this particular vampiric demon had a commanding presence. Vampires in general were held in low esteem, but Angelus had even gotten Lucifer's attention. He was, however, properly subservient to his betters. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Angelus. Please sit down." Brachus regarded him for a minute. "How do you like it here, Angelus?" he finally asked.

"Honestly? Not much. At least when I was on Earth, there was a chance that Angel--" He spat the word as if it tasted bad "--would slip up and let me out. I don't get to have much fun around here."

"Angel's Shanshu really cramped your style, didn't it? I bet that was quite a shock when it happened."

Angelus growled. "You could say that. I knew it would be bad, but I didn't know it would completely kick me out of his body." He snorted. "At least I have company now."

"Hm. At least. How'd you like to go back?"

The vampire leaned forward, intrigued. "How would that work?"

Brachus chose not to answer that question for the moment. "You've heard about the problems we've been having with Spike?"

"When have we not had problems with Spike? I should have staked him as soon as Dru made him. He's never been anything but a damn nuisance."

Interesting. Brachus had heard about the antipathy that Angelus had for Spike, but he didn't realize it ran so deep. It had been decades, after all, since they'd seen each other. "So, you would have no qualms about causing trouble for him?"

"Huh. If you'd give me the opportunity to cause trouble for Spike, I wouldn't care if I had to go and get trapped back in Angel's body to do it." Angelus paused for a second. "This doesn't entail that, does it?"

"Never fear. Spike and Angel haven't had any contact for a very long time. No, this should tickle your funny bone. We're sending you back to possess the Slayer. Or at least control her."

"Really. Tell me more. Because, the last time I checked, a human had to be bitten by a vampire, and then they had to suck the vampire's blood, in order for one of us to be able to enter them. Like, an invitation on steroids." He slouched back and crossed his arms over his chest. "And there aren't any more vampires."

"Our friends at the Initiative gave us the invitation. They've implanted a microbot in her brain designed for vampires, and the scientists had to work with some mystics in order to make it function correctly. The Major didn't know that when he put it in the Slayer's head, but, hey. That's not our lookout, is it?" Brachus bared his teeth in an evil grin, which Angelus returned.

***
Angelus hovered over the bed of the sleeping Slayer. He wasn't sure what the rules were for someone like him possessing a living body, or even if it could be done, but Brachus had assured him that he had nothing to worry about. Sure he didn't. After all, it wasn't Brachus' metaphorical ass on the line, was it?

Well. Might as well take the dive now as later. Tentatively, Angelus put his hand in hers, half-expecting to get zapped somehow, despite his boss's assurances to the contrary. It tingled a little, but it didn't hurt. So that was okay. He melded himself farther and farther into her body, until he felt an almost physical "click." He held Mandy's breath for a second, and let it out slowly when he didn't combust. "Okay," he said to himself. "Let's see what this little girl has running around in her brain. Besides me, that is."

Extracting memories and emotions, he soon had a fairly complete picture of the relationship between the Slayer and his wayward grandchilde. There were other people there too. Fascinating. She was working with Lorne. Dusty he didn't know...but Dru?

Oh, this was going to be fun.

***
"Right, then." Spike had made some strong coffee for Riley and himself. It looked like it was going to be an all-nighter of brainstorming. "Smoke?"

"No thanks," Riley answered, looking at him oddly. "I'm a doctor. I don't smoke."

"Suit yourself. I find they concentrate the mind wonderfully."

"How did you escape from the Initiative, that first time?" Riley asked, as Spike lit a cigarette.

"Faked being unconscious, they pulled me out to experiment on me, I did some damage and ran. Not one of my finest moments, but it got the job done."

"Hm. I don't think that'll work for Mandy. The Major's pretty much decided she's in that room to stay, until she decides to cooperate."

"And what exactly does 'cooperation' entail? Could she pretend?"

"Knowing Carlisle, that's a bad idea. He was really stoked about her abilities after she took apart that Yanfarl demon. I don't think information is what he's after anymore." Riley swallowed a mouthful of coffee and nearly choked. "Boy, you like this stuff potent, don't you?"

Spike grinned at him mirthlessly. "I toned it down a little for you. Okay, mate, you work there, and you've got the big brain and the degree. Got any ideas?"

"Um." He took another, smaller sip. "No."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell." He thought for a moment, taking long drags from his smoke. An idea began niggling at him. "How about this?" he said finally. "People see what they expect to see, right? And mentally, they explain the unexplainable by either ignoring what they don't understand, or by coming up with a 'reasonable' explanation, by their lights. It's how Clark Kent was able to hide among people for so long, for example." Riley looked blank. "Bugger. Way too much time around Harris." Spike leaned forward. "It's how vamps and demons can walk around and not be noticed. If something looks mostly like you expect it to look, the brain doesn't process the differences well."

"Go on."

"Can you open Mandy's room?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. Now, you've got people walking around that place all the time, right? Wearing spiffy white coats, carrying important-looking clipboards, with their little ID cards around their necks? Maybe you can just waltz her out of there. She'd be just another anonymous face in the crowd, with a stethoscope in her pocket and a ponytail. Maybe some glasses."

Riley opened his mouth to object, then closed it again. It was too simple. Everyone knew who the Slayer was. No way would it work. But actually...

Spike sweetened the idea. "I can create a diversion for you outside. Have everyone looking the other way." He put the cigarette out. "What do you think?"

"I think," Riley said slowly, "that we might have a plan."

***
After they hammered out more details of the "diversion" that Spike would provide, and Spike wrote out a note for him to give to Mandy, Riley left. Spike stood outside the bedroom door and ran his hands through his hair for a moment, then knocked softly. "Dru? Are you awake?"

"Come in, Spike." He opened the door and found her sitting against the headboard, with his Bible on her stomach. She had one of his oversized button-up shirts on, and the comforter covered her legs. "How did it go?"

"Fine, pet. We have a plan. We'll see if it works." He sat down next to her. "Dru...are you hearing pixies again?"

"Just one." She frowned prettily. "He's not very nice, either. He says the most awful things."

"Like what?"

"They're all true!" Pongurml protested.

"Hush, you nasty little git," she replied. Spike raised his eyebrows. "Oh dear. Not you, Spike. See, he's doing it again." She pouted. "I don't like this pixie."

"I don't like it either." He scowled. "I'll have a talk with a pastor I know. Maybe he'll have a suggestion. I can't fight something I can't see."

Dru smiled softly at him. "Still my dark knight. Still protecting me from nasties. You're good to me, Spike."

"Good to you?" the imp yelped. "May I remind you again that he got Dusty killed?"

Dru put her hands over her ears and rocked back and forth. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."

"Oh, Dru." Spike pulled her to him, strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, caressing her hair. "It's going to be all right, baby. I promise."

She pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "You promise?"

He gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead. "And I keep my bloody promises."

TBC...

Chapter Six
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