One thing that had worried Spike about his new job was that the Teaching Assistants were expected to live on campus, and in most cases that meant sharing a dorm room. While Spike had known dormitory life at an English Public School in his human days, and would have had no objections to repeating the experience had he been human now, his vampire status brought certain practical problems. The diet of blood would be hard to conceal, and to say that it would cause comment was very much of an understatement. Also Spike occasionally woke up in game face, usually after nightmares, and had no wish to send roommates fleeing screaming from the dorm. On the other hand the hotel room was too expensive for long-term occupancy. Renting an apartment was an option, although it seemed a shame when accommodation was part of the employment benefits to which he was entitled, and another option was moving in with Giles temporarily.
Xander was living in the basement of his parents' house, in what Spike would have termed a bed-sit, and the vampire knew that he was unhappy with the arrangement. He considered asking the young man to share an apartment with him; Spike would cover the deposit, and Xander could contribute to the rental whenever his succession of dead-end minimum wage jobs allowed. He was getting on reasonably well with Xander these days, and there would be no problem about concealing the blood or being caught in game face.
It proved unnecessary, as another solution presented itself. The College offered their new TA a small room of his own, little more than a box room, which no one else wanted. Hardly room for more than a bed, a desk, one chair, a small fridge, and a television. Spike was delighted with it, and moved in straight away. Installing a small microwave on top of the fridge, for heating up his beef blood, made it perfect. Even he found it too claustrophobic to sit there for hours marking papers, and he soon adopted the custom of marking in the cafeteria that many of the other Teaching Assistants followed.
He was sitting there, a couple of days after he took up the position, when Buffy walked in and he overheard some other TAs nearby discussing her. Buffy became involved in a life and death struggle with the frozen yoghurt machine, broke its handle, spilled her drink, and generally had a disastrous time collecting her food. Eventually she made her way to the tables, and passed close to Spike.
“Hi, Spike,” she greeted him. “See you've started your job.”
“Day before yesterday, Buffy,” he told her. “They've already piled me high with work. Care to join me?” He indicated the empty seat across from him.
Buffy looked at his pile of papers. “Better not. It seems to be the Day of the Klutz for me; yoghurt on the papers would be par for the course. Wouldn't look good when you've just started. Calling in on Giles tonight?”
“Yeah, thought I'd drop by, see what's happening.”
“Probably see you there, then, Spike.” Buffy moved on, and found a seat as far from the yoghurt machine as possible.
Once Buffy was out of earshot one of the nearby TAs addressed Spike. “Hey, man, you know that hottie?”
“Yes, I know Buffy,” Spike confirmed. Once in an academic environment his accent had begun to revert to that of his human days, almost without his realising it, and it was now closer to the well-spoken English of the professional classes than to the Cockney he had adopted in his creation of the ‘Spike’ persona. “I did some work at her High School, got to know her then.” He smiled to himself as he spoke the absolute truth while giving a totally false impression. The ‘work’ had involved death, destruction, and research into the assembly of a demon to destroy the world, but he wasn't going to mention that. “Know her mother better. Met her at a Parent Teacher Night, and we've become good friends.”
The other TA reconsidered some of what he had been going to say in light of Spike's mention of knowing the attractive blonde's mother. Instead he introduced himself. “I'm Graham Miller, TA in the Social Sciences department. These guys are Forrest Gates,” he indicated a tall black TA with a shaven head, “and Riley Finn.” Riley was even taller than Forrest, with an innocent face and short wavy dark hair. Graham himself was a muscular individual, hair short and sticking up, with a determined chin. Spike thought that he looked more like a Marine than a teacher. “You'd be the new TA, I guess?” Graham deduced.
“That's right. William Walworth, Department of Linguistics,” Spike introduced himself, “but I'm generally known as Spike.”
“Glad to meet you.” Graham extended his hand, and Spike shook it, followed by Forrest and Riley.
“You got cold hands, Spike,” Forrest commented.
“Raynaud's Syndrome,” Spike explained glibly. “I'm hoping cutting down my smoking will help it. Hasn't been too hard to cut down on the ciggies, there's hardly anywhere around here where they let you smoke, but it hasn't had any effect yet. Maybe if I can give up altogether, but that's hard.”
“Worth trying, man. Those things'll kill you,” Graham advised. “You coming to the party tonight?”
“Party?” asked Spike, interestedly. He had been vaguely aware that a party was in the offing, but didn't know where or when.
“Yeah, at Lowell House. That's our place. It's our night to howl. You should come, meet some people.”
“I just might take you up on that. If I've cleared this pile of marking, that is.” Spike exchanged grins with Riley, who had an equally large pile in front of him. After a few more casual pleasantries the Teaching Assistants settled back down to their tasks.
Harmony woke, feeling both hungry and nauseous, and opened her eyes. Her head ached. She was lying on her back, looking straight up into a blaze of light, and she narrowed her eyes against the glare. The pretty blonde vampire rolled over, struggled to her feet, and looked around her.
Antiseptically bright white walls on three sides, fluorescent light panels on the ceiling. The fourth wall was glass. She made her way to it, staggering slightly as she went, and put her hands to the glass, only to recoil with a yelp as an electric shock hit her. “Oww!” she whined. “What the Hell? Where am I?” Looking through the glass wall, she could see a corridor, and on the far side she saw a row of other white rooms with glass fronts. Most contained a vampire or a more exotic demon.
“Let me out!” she demanded loudly. “Help! Let me out! You can't do this to me, I'm an American!”
“It's no use,” a male voice came from an adjoining compartment. “They won't take any notice.”
“But this is all some big mistake,” Harmony objected. “I've got rights. Hey! Let me out! My dad's lawyer will sue your ass!”
A panel in the ceiling opened, and a sachet of blood fell from it and landed on the floor.
“Don't drink it,” the voice from the next cell cautioned. “It's drugged.”
“What is it?” Harmony queried. She recognised perfectly well what it was, but had decided to play dumb. It was what she did best, as, she had to admit, she was halfway there already. “And who are you?”
“I'm a lab rat, just like you,” the voice explained. “They wait you out, until you drink the blood. The next thing, you're gone. And that's when they do the experiments.”
“Experiments?” Harmony quavered. “What are they, like aliens or something? And as if I'd drink blood. Ewww to the max!”
“You're human?” the voice asked, uncertainly.
“Well, duh, what else would I be? I've got ID, and a driver's permit, and everything. And I nearly made the cheerleader squad last year.” Harmony had decided to play to her strengths. She wasn't good at fighting, she couldn't pick locks, she couldn't break through walls; but one thing she was good at was lying. She'd seen enough movies to feel sure that in any facility as shiny and new as this looked there would be surveillance cameras, and microphones, and she was going to play up to them. “You mean you're not human? And what are those things in those rooms across the hall? Aliens?”
“I'm a vampire,” the creature in the next room admitted. “I was running from the Slayer, and ran straight into these guys. Next thing I know, I'm in here.”
“You're a vampire? Really? There are such things? Help! Help!” Harmony took off her shoes, and began pounding on the glass with one, avoiding any contact of her skin with whatever had given her the electric shock. “Let me out! I demand my one phone call! My mom and dad will be going nuts.”
There were indeed cameras and microphones, and her antics were not going unnoticed. “Surely she can't really be a human?” one of the observers asked.
“Of course not. We operated on her brain, for God's sake. If somehow we had picked up a human in error she'd have died on the operating table or become a vegetable,” another observer pointed out. “She's a Hostile Sub-Terrestrial, just like the others.”
“She seems very sincere,” the first noted. “Could she be suffering from brain damage? Memory loss following the operation. She might not remember her existence after she became infected. She seems to think she's still alive.”
“Rubbish,” the second replied, but didn't sound convinced. “You're right that she sounds sincere. I suppose we'd better take a look at her. If she has forgotten her HST status it could invalidate some of our work. Call a guard, and we'll check her out.”
Harmony was crouched on the floor of her cage sobbing when she heard footsteps approaching. Surreptitiously she slipped her hand inside her blouse and manoeuvred one of her breasts out of her bra, resting it above the cup. She undid the blouse's buttons, tucked it into the bra and into her skirt waistband to prevent it from gaping open, and got to her feet, careful not to disturb her blouse. Three men appeared outside her cell. One of them was pushing a gurney. Another was dressed in a white coat, which screamed “scientist” to Harmony's movie-educated brain. The other was a guard in military fatigues, holding a tazer.
“Thank Heaven, someone's come,” Harmony sniffed. “Let me out. I promise I won't sue.”
“Step away from the wall, Miss,” the guard ordered unemotionally. She obeyed, and the guard ran a security card through a reader beside the cell front. The glass panel slid aside. “Step out, and lie on the gurney.”
“What is this place? I'm frightened,” Harmony moaned, but obeyed. The orderly who had been pushing the gurney leaned over her to strap her in, while the lab technician readied a syringe and the guard held the tazer to cover her. Suddenly Harmony screamed. As the orderly jerked back in surprise Harmony gave a sly tug on her blouse, and it opened wide, revealing a naked breast. “He groped me!” she yelled, sitting up. “Pervert!”
“I did no such thing!” the orderly hotly denied, raising his hands. The technician turned to him angrily, forgetting the syringe. Harmony climbed down from the gurney, her attention apparently totally concentrated on getting her breast back inside the bra, but really she was fully aware of her surroundings. She could tell that the guard's eyes were riveted to her breast, and she seized her chance. She pounced on him, grabbed the tazer and the security card, and then dived for the next cell.
The guard grabbed her by the neck. She threw the tazer along the corridor as far as she could, but kept hold of the security card and fumbled it into the slot. The panel slid open and a scruffy male vampire emerged. “Get them off me and there's a blow job in it for you,” she offered. He needed no further invitation. The guard was dragged away from Harmony and clubbed into unconsciousness in an instant. During the scuffle he sent the orderly sprawling into the technician, who accidentally stabbed his colleague with the syringe. The vampire knocked the technician out a second later, and he turned to follow Harmony.
A klaxon was sounding, and, at the end of the corridor, a steel shutter was descending from the ceiling. Harmony worked on the logical assumption that an exit must lie behind it, or they wouldn't bother closing it, and ran that way. She dived under the shutter, closely followed by her scruffy saviour, and they found themselves in an empty room. There was a door at one side of the room, and at the other side was an elevator. Lighted numerals showed that the elevator was approaching. The male vampire gazed hopefully at the elevator door, believing it would take him to freedom, but Harmony didn't think they would be so lucky. She tore at her clothes frantically, ripping off everything but a lacy thong, and the other vampire looked at her as if Christmas was coming early. Harmony threw her clothes into a corner as the elevator doors opened, revealing that it was full of commandos. “Hold them off! Blow job!” she reminded her confused rescuer, then fled out through the door as he turned to battle the humans.
The moment she was out of the room she began screaming for help at the top of her lungs. She ran straight into a group of commandos. “Thank God!” she sobbed. “Vampire! Escaped! Tore off my clothes!”
“Calm yourself, soldier, err, Nurse,” one of the commandos told her, avoiding looking at her directly. “Get to the sick bay and have yourself checked for infection. We'll deal with the Hostile.” He readied his weapon and advanced.
“And leave me your phone number,” one of the commandos muttered appreciatively, following his officer into the rather one-sided melee which was raging on the other side of the door.
Harmony walked away slowly, covering her breasts with her arms, then the instant she was out of their sight she ran like the wind. She spotted a grating covering an air vent, leaped for it, pulled it free, climbed through and pulled the grating back into place behind her. ‘Amazing,' she thought, as she crawled along the ventilation shaft. ‘I didn't even need to lie to that last bunch. Vampire, check. Escaped, check. Tore off my clothes, check. Yay me!’
Spike finished his day's marking and preparation then headed for Giles' apartment. It was deserted; the others had been and gone. Eventually he tracked Giles down at Xander's basement, where the two were glumly drinking fruit punch that Xander's mother had pressed on them.
“She made you an offer you couldn't refuse, then, Watcher?” he asked jocularly.
“She is a rather, ah, formidable woman,” Giles admitted. “I notice that you have also accepted a glass of this, ah, liquid.”
“Didn't want to hurt the old bat's feelings,” Spike replied. “No offence, mate,” he nodded to Xander.
The young man stared dolefully at his own fruit punch. “None taken. Not all that old, and not so much with the hanging upside down in a cave and using sonar, but otherwise you're pretty close.”
“Cheer up, lad, it's not that bad,” Spike gestured at the punch. “During the Siege of Mafeking me and Dru had to drink wine made out of fermented boots.”
Xander gagged. Giles looked interested. “You were in South Africa in the Boer War, then? I didn't know that.”
“Nah, mate, we were in Monte Carlo,” Spike told him. “We'd just had a really bad run of luck on the old roulette wheel. ” He smirked at Giles, who burst into laughter.
“You had me going for a minute there, Spike. I must be going daft in my old age.”
“You're hardly old, Watcher. I must have a century on you at least,” Spike replied.
“More than that, surely? The Watchers' Council records state that you are over two hundred. I hope that you're not implying that I look geriatric.”
Spike shook his head. “Born August 20th 1854, so the Council of Wankers is more than fifty years out. Turned 1880. Don't remember the exact date, was a bit too busy being killed and rising again to take much notice of the calendar, but it was summer-time and before my birthday.”
“That's interesting. I was born in 1954, February the twentieth to be precise, so you are almost exactly a hundred years older than me.” Giles took off his glasses and cleaned them nervously. “Spike, do you mind if I pass this information on to the Council?”
“Not at all, mate. As long as you can promise that it won't result in them sending a bunch of pillocks over here to stake me. Might not kill me, but it's hell on shirts.”
“Don't worry, I won't put it forward as the result of an interview with the vampire,” Giles promised.
Xander was fidgeting. “Hey, G-man, isn't it about time we were hitting the cemeteries and the dark and lonely places? We're looking for those soldiers, remember?”
“Soldiers?” Spike asked.
“Oh, didn't you hear?” Giles responded. “When Buffy was searching for Oz, after he suffered his unfortunate reversion, she encountered a group of paramilitary types acting suspiciously. She remembered some similar characters you met at Halloween, and believes they are connected. Sunnydale is hardly a hotbed of terrorism, and there are no military bases in the area. We suspect they may have some interest in the local demon population, and would like to find out more about them. They may pose a threat to us, or be potential allies, and it would be nice to know which is the case.”
“Not sure I like the sound of that,” Spike commented. “It'll probably turn out they've built a secret missile base next to the bleeding Hellmouth, or something.”
Giles paled. “Don't say things like that, Spike. All right, Xander, let's be going.”
“Like me to tag along?” Spike offered.
“No, thank you, Spike, you go to the party. I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on Willow. She does seem somewhat depressed at the moment.”
“Yeah, and some of us haven't been invited,” moaned Xander.
“I could get you in, mate,” Spike offered, but Xander declined.
“No, you go. I'll keep the G-man company, and look for ghouls and military types, while you make with the girls and the student types. Look after Will.”
“I hate it when he calls me ‘G-man’, you know,” Giles confided to Spike as they left the basement. They split up, and Spike headed back to the campus to freshen up and then make for the party.
Harmony had spent what seemed like hours working her way through the ventilation shaft, including a difficult ascent of a vertical section, but eventually she reached an opening to the outside world. She emerged in uncomfortably close proximity to the University campus buildings. The young vampire stayed within the shaft for a while, and considered doing some hunting while she was in the vicinity. Her status as a near-naked girl should give her certain advantages in getting close to college boys, whilst college girls offered a convenient source of clothing, and her prime target, Willow, would be somewhere close. However there were lights, and too many people, and she decided against it. She made a run for the nearby wooded areas, relying on anyone who saw her taking her for a streaker, and headed for her lair to pick up some clothes and shoes. Once in the trees she settled down to a walk.
‘Hey, great escape there,’ she congratulated herself as she walked. ‘Reading those old paperbacks of Dad's certainly came in handy. Just call me Harmony Blaise. The Nailer worked for me just like it did for Modesty. Guess guys just can't keep their eyes off a nice set of boobies. Spike's a lot like Willie Garvin, now I come to think about it, except Willie never made sweet sweet love to Modesty the way my Blondie Bear did to me. Willie, William. Wonder if the guy who wrote the books ever met my Spikey?’ Distracted by her thoughts, she almost walked into Xander.
Xander raised the stake he was holding, and then his eyes almost bulged out of his head. “Whoa! Harmony!” he exclaimed. “Mucho nakedness!”
“Oh, hi, Xander,” Harmony greeted the young man. “You doing Buffy's job now? Xander Harris the Vampire Slayer?”
“Helping out,” he said, lowering the stake. “I've always got the Buffster's back covered. You haven't got much covered at all, Harmony. What happened to your clothes?”
“Moths,” Harmony told him, with a disarming smile.
Xander laughed, and then remembered that his former High School classmate was not just an attractive topless girl but also an evil vampire. He raised the stake again. “Sorry, Harmony, but we'd better get on with this. We fight, I stake you, you turn to dust, I go home.”
Harmony had gained some fighting skills as part of the whole vampire package, but wasn't enthusiastic about fighting; especially not against someone who had been helping the Slayer for the past three years and probably knew what he was doing. She put her hands to her breasts and cupped them together. “I bet I can think of something you'd much rather put between these than a stake, Xander,” she offered. Xander went crimson, and stepped backwards a pace. “And I can think of a much better use for my mouth than biting you,” she went on, forming a circle with her lips and licking them lasciviously. Xander recoiled further, and seemed to be having experiences in the trouser department, which were hampering his movement. At which point Harmony turned and ran for her unlife.
Xander made some desperate adjustments to his crotch, and then set off after her. She had gained far too big a start, however, and he soon gave up. “Whatever I've got, I should bottle and sell it,” he boasted to himself. “Everywhere I go there are naked women throwing themselves at me. First Anya, now Harmony. Wooh! Lucky I've been getting so much from Anya lately, or Harmony would have had me there. Way to go with the double meaning, Xan-man. Best check in with Giles. Or maybe Spike, or the Buffster. Buffy would be best, she should be immune to the power of the booby.”
Buffy was, in fact, using that power. She was dressed to kill, determined to prove that she was completely over Parker, and having a ball. She was in great demand for dances; the tall TA, Riley, was eager to get to know her better, and had even sought advice from Willow and from Spike on how best to approach her, but he was getting serious competition from the male students.
It might have been that they felt they had no alternative but to concentrate their efforts on Buffy. Most of the other unattached girls at the party were flocking around the hot new TA from England. Spike was having a good time, and revelling in the unaccustomed feeling of being the centre of attention for a group of pretty girls, but was a little anxious about Willow. He tried to spend time with her, but kept getting dragged away to the dance floor by eager young women. Willow was too preoccupied with sulking to back him up when he claimed to be busy with her; she was determined to be gloomy.
“Hey, man, leave some for the rest of us,” Forrest complained jokingly in a rare moment when he had escaped the girls.
“Can I help it if I'm attractive?” Spike smirked, zipping up his fly and moving to the washbasin.
“Do the rest of us a favour; pick one and stick to her,” Forrest urged.
“Well, I had planned on spending the evening talking to Willow,” Spike confessed, “but she's not in the mood. I suppose I could let one of the others think she's won. It's that or buy a club to beat them off.”
The girl who Spike had met on the day when he first wore the Gem of Amara was the most insistent of his admirers. “Hey, I guessed you were a TA the first time I saw you, and you said you weren't,” she complained, smiling. “My name's Julie, doing pre-Med. You don't look so much of a bad boy now.”
“Disappointed, love?” he responded, and grinned when she shook her head and laughed. “I wasn't kidding you, pet. I hadn't even applied for the job then. Fact is, it was what you said that made me look to see if there was a post open. Hadn't taught in anything but a High School before, didn't think I'd get the job, but I reckon they must have been pretty desperate. I'd hardly started when they gave me a pile of marking that could be seen from sodding outer space!”
Buffy was still finding it difficult to adjust to Spike's new persona. She and Willow were the only people here who knew that William Walworth, Teaching Assistant, a.k.a. Spike, was also William the Bloody, the Slayer of Slayers, also a.k.a. Spike; an evil soulless member of the undead, with a centuries-long record of carnage and destruction behind him. It was unnerving to see him here with a pretty co-ed laughing with him and hanging on his every word, chatting with the other TAs and obviously getting on very well with them, and then displaying an astonishing virtuosity on the dance floor. Willow had accepted him totally by now, he had become almost as close a friend to her as were Buffy and Xander, but Buffy still kept getting the feeling that she really should pull the ring from his finger and drive a stake through his heart. Or at least that she should be the one being taught the Tango by the blue-eyed vampire, with the lean hips and the killer cheekbones, and not some newcomer who had latched on to him by virtue of a chance meeting three weeks ago. Buffy had known him for two years, after all, and had to bite her lip to stop herself going over and pointing this out forcefully.
She forgot these conflicting thoughts when Riley finally managed to get her to himself. “Willow said to tell you she took off,” he said. “She's okay, but kind of blue. She said not to worry. While I've got you, I've been meaning to ask you something.”
“Ask away,” Buffy smiled. She had bumped into Riley a few times around campus, sometimes literally, and had decided that he was attractive and looked like he might be interesting if she got to know him. The chance seemed to have arisen. There was, however, an interruption.
Xander pushed himself through Buffy's throng of admirers and confronted her. “Buffy, I've been looking all over for you,” he told her. “We need to talk. Not here. It's sort of unfinished business.”
“Business?” Buffy asked, her heart sinking. That meant vampires, or demons, or possibly an ominous discovery about the lurking military types. “Guess I'd better come with. Excuse us.”
Spike noticed the exchange, and shot Xander a questioning glance. The young man shook his head. He wasn't sure Spike would be any help in getting rid of Harmony; the master vampire had admitted that he felt ashamed of the way he had treated the young vampire girl, and hunting her down would only cause his friend more pain. ‘My friend?’ Xander asked himself as the thought occurred to him. ‘When did that happen? When he was there for Willow, I guess.’
Buffy followed Xander out, leaving Riley standing looking foolish. “So, you lost out,” Forrest said, approaching Riley.
“Well, it's not like she blew me off. She just left with another guy, is all,” Riley muttered despondently.
Forrest laughed. “Probably just as well. They need us downstairs.” Riley followed him out of the party, joined by Graham, and the three young men made their way to a concealed elevator. They descended into the secret facility hidden deep below the Fraternity house.
“The problem is, what kind of girl is gonna go out with a guy who's acting all Joe Regular by day and then turns all demon-hunter by night?” Riley mused, as they emerged into the cavern that housed the base complex.
“Maybe a peculiar one?” suggested Graham, who thought that Buffy's good looks didn't make up for her eccentricity.
“Thank you, Graham. You see, Forrest? You don't have to be so negative all the time. Hold up.” Riley changed the subject as they drew near to the Head of the facility. “Situation?” he asked his commander.
Professor Maggie Walsh, who taught Behavioural Science at UC Sunnydale, and in one of whose classes Buffy Summers was a student, replied. “Gentlemen, suit up. We have a Code Red. Hostile 17 has escaped.”
Harmony held up two bras and considered them. The sports bra, which would control her breasts and change her silhouette to help her be less recognisable, or the Wonderbra, which would emphasise them and help her distract men? “Hello, boys,” she said to the Wonderbra. “Stop using sex as a weapon,” she sang to the sports bra. Making up her mind, she donned the sports bra. After all, she could always take it off. Staying with the theme, she put on jogging pants, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes. She brushed her hair back, wincing as the brush contacted a sore spot on her scalp, and tied it in a ponytail. A baseball cap completed the look.
“Now I'm a jogger,” she told her favourite My Little Unicorn. “College girl. ‘And the College girls go Doo do doo do doo do do doo’,” she sang, misquoting. “‘Hey babe, take a walk on the wild side’. Yep, that's me. I can walk right into campus, ask around for Willow, and eat her. Then I'll get my Blondie Bear back, and we can so make those weirdo scientists pay for wanting to, like, experiment on me. Eww, creepy!” She rolled up a leg of her jogging pants, strapped a hunting knife to her calf, and pulled the pants down over it. “Wonder if Dad would teach me how to use a gun?” she mused. “Probably be all ‘shooting people is wrong’. Still, he was pretty cool about the whole me being a vampire thing. Except for him and Mom making me leave home in case I ate any of their friends, that is.”
Finally satisfied with her preparations, she bade goodbye to her unicorn collection and left her lair. “I'm hungry,” she whined to herself as she walked back towards the campus. “And horny. I should have eaten Xander. Or boinked him. Or boinked him and then eaten him. Oh well, I'll have a good appetite ready for Willow.”
“Here's what we know,” Professor Walsh addressed a gathering of commandos. Riley, Graham, and Forrest were listening as they fastened up the final pieces of their Kevlar. “Hostile 17 broke restraints at 16.47. It made a daring and resourceful escape, taking advantage of the way men think with their gonads rather than their brains.” Several of the commandos shuffled uneasily and stared at their boots. The three TAs looked puzzled. “Hostile 17 has the body of an attractive and curvaceous young woman,” Professor Walsh explained. “It escaped stark naked, claiming to be one of our medical personnel whose clothes had been stolen by a Hostile, and our Response Team were too distracted by her chest to spot the flaws in her story. And may I say that the next person to use the word ‘Penthouse’ when making their report will be on latrine duty for a week,” she digressed.
“The creature was bagged and tagged within campus grounds,” she went on. “From a credit card receipt for The Gap found in its discarded clothing, we believe that in human life it was a Sunnydale resident named Harmony Kendall. We can therefore assume that it has an intimate knowledge of the area. The advantage lies with the creature. Fail to recapture it and everything we've worked for - the Initiative itself - could end tonight. It threatened to call a lawyer, so it obviously maintains familiarity with human customs. It could go to the Press. That cannot be allowed. Agent Finn, you are in charge of this operation. I'm counting on you, Riley. That is all.”
Riley buckled up the last strap of his body armour and strode to the front of the group. “Okay, listen up. Do we know the route it took out of here?”
“Through ventilation shaft 28,” one of the men replied. “We found a loose grille leading into the shaft forty minutes ago. Pheromone traces confirm that was the way she went. It must have been a tough climb, but we sent a pulse along the shaft and it was clear. She made it out.”
“Where does that shaft emerge?” asked Riley.
“Edge of the trees, ninety metres from Stevenson,” the soldier answered.
“So populated area, plenty of civilians. Okay, she's naked, so she'll be wanting clothes. Plenty of girls around for her to take them from. We've got to catch her before she gets the chance to get dressed.” There were a few snickers. Riley looked sheepish. “Err, I didn't mean that the way it sounds. While she's nude, she stands out. On the other hand we can't just assume any naked girl is the Hostile. Have we got a picture?”
“Loads,” one of the soldiers told him. “Plus, Joe's putting copies of the CCTV footage onto VHS. Five dollars a copy, proceeds go to the social fund. Man, that girl is seriously stacked.”
Riley sighed. “For identification. It's a cold night; thermal readings from a naked girl might give a false positive. We could target some co-ed who had had her clothes taken by the Hostile. Okay, three teams. Each team carries a picture. C-team: take the campus perimeter. Make sure it can't leave, if it hasn't already. Stake it if you gotta, but only as a last resort. B-team: into town. Check out its human address, it might have headed there for clothes. Look out for smashed windows in clothes stores. Gates and Miller are with me. We take the heart of campus and work our way out. All units maintain radio contact early and often. Who's got questions? Move!”
Xander led Buffy to the edge of the campus grounds, where Giles was waiting in his old Citroen. They briefed her on Xander's encounter with Harmony.
“I can't believe this!” Buffy snapped. “Harmony is heading towards the University, stark naked?”
“Well, she did have these little lacy panties,” Xander corrected her. “The light wasn't good, but I think they were lilac, with little bows, and I think I'll just kill myself now,” he finished weakly as Buffy turned a glare on him. Xander had seen Harmony run off towards campus, but hadn't noticed her doubling back once she escaped him. However, his error was cancelled out by Harmony's later plans, and was producing the right results.
“What's she going to do, waltz in and claim some Frat boy has hired her as a stripper? Way to ruin my night!”
“Strippers usually start off with their clothes on, Buff,” Xander pointed out, and received another glare.
“She may use her unclothed state to lure some impressionable young man into her grasp,” Giles pointed out. “Or, if she has lost her clothes in some mishap, she may intend to steal replacements from one of your fellow students. I fear the girl would not survive such a theft, which would probably be violent.”
“So, what's the plan, Buffy as bait as usual?” she asked. “Not that Harmony could fit into my things anyway.”
“I seriously doubt if she would approach you if she recognised you, Buffy,” Giles replied. “Even if she did not, you are, as you say, somewhat smaller than her. I think all you can do is patrol the environs and keep your eyes open.”
Buffy heaved a sigh. “Oh, wow, such are the responsibilities of being the Chosen One. If I want to see a naked girl, all I have to do is get out of the shower and look in a mirror. Why couldn't you have asked Spike to do it? Ruin his night for a change?”
“Thought of it,” Xander admitted. “But I think staking Harmony would make Spike feel really bad. He was telling me he feels real guilty about the way he treated her. He picked her up as Rebound Girl after Drusilla dumped him, led her on, took her cherry, boinked her for a few weeks, and then dumped her. He says now he looks back it makes him no better than Parker. I couldn't ask him to stake her now.”
“Since when did you care how Spike feels?” Buffy asked him in amazement. Xander was no fan of vampires; he'd disliked Angel even before the good vampire had lost his soul and turned evil.
“I don't!” Xander denied reflexively. “Well, maybe I do. He's been good for Willow since Oz walked out on her. I haven't been able to be there for her myself, what with Anya being all over me and me not being part of the whole University thing, and you've been too busy moping over Parker. Spike's been her shoulder to cry on, and he's been okay with me too. I don't have a problem with him, and I don't think we should give him a problem we don't have to.”
“I agree with Xander,” Giles put in. “Now, please, Buffy, time is passing. Go and find Harmony. If you act quickly enough perhaps you can get back to your party.”
Buffy gave another sigh, and agreed. She set off on a patrol around the campus, where she kept meeting up with Riley. Trying to avoid him while keeping options open for a possible romantic meeting later proved tricky. He was trying to do the same thing, and also to shepherd her out of the area in case she was attacked by Hostile 17, which led to some rather awkward conversation. Eventually a distant scream, coming from Buffy's own hall of residence, caught their ears. Both made their excuses and left hastily in opposite directions.
Spike stayed on at the party for a while after Buffy left, and had a good time, but he began to feel guilty about Willow. He had been going to make sure that she wasn't left alone to mope, but all the attention he had attracted had meant that he hadn't done so. She had left early, and was probably back in her dorm room feeling depressed. He managed to extricate himself from Julie's clutches, and left.
‘I'm getting to be a pathetic tosser,’ he thought, as he walked towards Stevenson House. ‘I could have had that Julie girl. She was all over me. I haven't had a shag since Harm, I'm bleeding desperate for it, and I'm turning one down. Course, she'd probably have got hurt. Shagging someone when you don't love them is okay as long as both of you are fine with that, but suppose she fell for me? I'd be no better than that git Parker. I did it to Harm; don't want to do it to anyone else. Sodding Hell, how come I've developed morals and a conscience? Still, it's been a fun night apart from that. I'll just pop round and see if Willow's still up, and have a chat with her if she is. If she's gone to bed I'll bugger off back to my own room and see what's on telly. ’ His thoughts were interrupted by a distant scream.
Willow was sitting on her bed listening to her stereo. Mournful music to match her mood. When the knock came on her door she assumed it was Spike. “Come in,” she invited, carelessly. “Oops!” she exclaimed as Harmony entered. “Big oops. What do you want, Harmony?”
“I want my Spikey back,” Harmony replied. She closed the door behind her, and locked it. “And for that to happen you need to be dead.”
“What do you mean?” Willow asked, surprised. “You don't think ... me and Spike?”
“I saw you with my own eyes,” Harmony snarled, and went into game face. “Him holding you, when it should be me.”
“He's just a friend,” Willow protested, as Harmony advanced. “I'll scream!”
“Good!” snapped Harmony, and pounced.
Willow screamed at the top of her voice as the fangs touched her throat. Then Harmony screamed too. The vampire recoiled, clutching at her head. Willow stopped screaming. “What happened, Harmony?” she asked.
“I don't know,” Harmony whimpered. “My head. Terrible pain.”
“I could get you some aspirin,” Willow offered.
“It's okay, it's eased off now. Where were we? Oh, yes.” Harmony lunged for Willow again. Willow yelped, and again Harmony yelped along with her. “What's happening to me?” Harmony moaned. “When I try to bite you it hurts me.” She sat down on the bed beside Willow.
“Maybe it's because you don't really want to bite me,” Willow suggested. “I promise, Harmony, there really isn't anything between me and Spike. He's just being comforty to me because I'm all broke up about Oz leaving me.”
Harmony sat up straight. “Oz left you? I thought you must have dumped him for Spike. The jerk! Why do men always leave?”
“Not all his fault,” Willow admitted. “He had werewolf issues, maybe I didn't deal very well. Hey, you won't have heard about Buffy and this guy Parker.”
“No, what happened?” asked Harmony, interested. “Tell me about it, and I'll tell you about me getting kidnapped and escaping from these scientist guys and soldiers. ‘Cause, let me say, I was way cool and smart.”
“You were kidnapped?” Willow asked. This sounded like the sort of thing Buffy and Giles would want to know about. “Tell me first, then I'll tell you about Buffy. Like a soda?”
“Diet Pepsi, if you've got it, thanks,” Harmony accepted. “Unless you've got blood.”
“Well, only in me, and I'm sorta keen on it staying there,” Willow replied. Harmony laughed. Just then the lights went out and the stereo died. “Power cut?” Willow was annoyed. “Hope it doesn't last long, I've got two cartons of ice cream in the freezer compartment.”
“Oh, what flavour?” asked Harmony. “Funny, the lights outside are still on.” At that moment the door burst open and a masked commando wearing night vision goggles rushed into the room.
Riley's party had scanned the dorm building from outside after hearing the scream. They had spotted a room with two people in, only one of whom registered on thermal imagers as having a body temperature within normal human ranges. The other one was at room temperature. Riley called in to base, requesting a room number to fit their positional fix, and requesting an interruption to the building's power supply. He then led the party into the building and they rushed up the stairs, pushing aside a few bewildered students. A kick from a heavy boot broke the lock of the room door and they burst in.
Harmony screamed. Willow screamed. Then both girls tried to get past the commandos and out of the door. They were seized and held; Harmony tried to fight back but was immobilised by crippling pain in her head as soon as she raised a hand against the humans. The Initiative agents had tranquilliser guns and tazers ready, but didn't need to use them. Harmony's arms were jerked behind her back and secured with a plastic tie.
“Bagged and tagged, sir,” Graham reported. “What about the civilian, could have been turned?”
Riley hesitated. Standard procedures did call for detainment of civilians who had come into close proximity with Hostile Sub-Terrestrials, but he had recognised Willow. Before he could answer the decision was made for him.
“You let her go!” a male voice snarled. A fist smashed into the side of Riley's head, dislodging his goggles, and sending him sprawling. “Pillock!”
Spike had not been far behind the commandos, hurrying towards Willow and Buffy's dorm room. His vampire vision had been unaffected by the lights going out. When he heard the girls' screams he redoubled his speed. He had recognised Willow's voice and went into a rage, only just restraining himself from going into game face, and charged towards her attackers. Riley was dealt with first, and then he turned his attention to Forrest, who was holding Willow. A kick to the shin as an opener, then he caught Forrest in an arm-lock, pulled him away from Willow, and slammed him face first into the wall. The black commando's goggles took the brunt of the impact, and went dead. Forrest was blind, and missed completely as he struck back at Spike.
Graham let go of Harmony and threw a punch at Spike, who released Forrest and caught Graham's fist. He twisted, turned under the commando's arm, and threw Graham over his shoulder. Harmony seized the opportunity to make a run for it. “Contain her!” Riley yelled, and struck at Spike. Forrest had tugged off his goggles and could see again, but in the dark he mistook his target and made another grab for Willow, who was crawling away.
“Contain this!” a new voice snapped. A dainty female foot hit Forrest in the chest, and the force of the impact threw him backwards completely across the room. Only his Kevlar body-armour saved him from broken ribs.
Riley aimed his tazer at Spike, who sidestepped, caught Riley's wrist, and pulled him into an elbow strike. Riley fell, hard, and dropped the tazer. Graham was scrabbling on the floor for his tranquilliser gun. Spike kicked it away, and then kicked Graham in the stomach. Riley looked around, horrified. He couldn't see properly with his goggles hanging loose, but was fairly sure that Hostile 17 was no longer in the room. His men were getting their asses thoroughly kicked. The mission was turning into a disaster. “Abort! Abort!” he yelled. “Out! Out!” The three commandos made a rush for the door. Spike and Buffy let them go, and went to see to Willow.
Glass shattered at the end of the corridor. The Initiative agents rushed that way, Riley frantically pulling his goggles back into position, and they peered out through the broken window. “She must have jumped for it,” Riley muttered. “See anything, Miller? Gates?”
“Not a thing, sir,” Graham responded.
“My goggles are bust to Hell, sir. Can't see worth a goddamn,” Forrest reported.
“Okay, we're out of here,” Riley ordered. “Come on.” They ran out of the building as fast as they could. Once clear, Riley radioed base and made a brief report, saying that the power could be restored to grid reference 6. The lights in Stevenson House came back on immediately. “Okay, back to tracking Hostile 17,” Riley told his men. “Looks like she's got clothes now.”
“Yeah. What the Hell happened back there?” Forrest asked. “I lost my goggles and didn't see jack shit. Who were those guys?”
“Who were those masked men?” Willow asked in bewilderment, picking herself up and making her way back to her bed.
“Well, I think the fact that there were three of them pretty well rules out the Lone Ranger,” Spike replied. His quip went totally over Buffy's head, but Willow chuckled. “Are you all right, pet?”
“A bit shaken, but I'll live,” Willow told them. “Thanks, guys. I think they were going to take me away with Harmony.”
“Harmony? That was Harmony there?” Buffy shook her head. “Damn. I was looking for her. Still, at least she seems to have got some clothes on now.”
“Why wouldn't she have her clothes on?” Willow asked her, perplexed.
Spike frowned. “I thought I recognised Harm, but I reckoned I must be wrong. What on Earth was she doing here?”
Willow related the whole story, including Harmony's mention of her having been kidnapped by, and escaping from ‘scientists and soldiers’.
“Looks like they want her back, the poor daft little bint,” Spike commented. “I know you'll think I'm a bit soft, but I hope she made it out okay.”
“So do I, Spike,” Willow assured him. “I don't think you're soft. Just means you're a nice guy.”
“Same here, Spike,” Buffy agreed. “And, what you did for Willow, rushing to save her - thanks. I won't forget it.”
“Oh!” Willow cried. “I haven't thanked you both properly. Thanks, Buffy. Thank you, Spike.” She hugged Buffy briefly, and then gave Spike a much longer and tighter hug.
“No need for thanks, love, I wasn't going to let anyone hurt my mate Willow, was I? Now, I'd best be off to my own room, and you two birds had better get some sleep. See you tomorrow, loves.” Spike took his leave and made his way back to his own dorm building, somewhat embarrassed by Willow's hug and obvious affection. He could see how Harmony had come to the conclusion she had drawn, and hoped Willow wasn't really going to become too attracted to him. ‘Wonder if the bint did get away?” he thought, once reminded of the blonde vampire girl. “Harm's daft as a brush, but she does seem to be managing okay.’
Harmony had indeed made a successful escape. She hadn't jumped from the window at all; the thought of a three-storey fall with her hands tied behind her back held no appeal for her whatsoever. Instead she had smashed the glass as a diversion, then ducked into a recreation room and hidden under a table tennis table. She managed to get her hands on the knife she had taped to her calf, by dint of some strenuous wriggling, and cutting free her arms after that was only a matter of time.
She was getting very hungry, and pounced on the first lone student she met; only to collapse yet again with severe head pains. Giving up, she made her way towards her lair, keeping a sharp eye out for any more of the commandos.
“Being a vampire really sucks,” she moaned to herself as she walked. “Now I can't feed. They've done something to me, I know it.” She touched the place on her scalp that had been sore earlier. It was still tender, although healing. “Some sort of experiment. What am I going to do? If I can't hunt, I can't feed. How am I going to live?”
Professor Walsh looked sternly at the three Initiative agents. “I'm far from happy,” she scolded. “Hostile 17 is not only daring and resourceful, but seems to have allies capable of defeating an elite commando unit.”
“Not allies, ma'am. I think it may have been an honest misunderstanding,” Riley replied, standing rigidly to attention. “None of us got a good look at the two civilians who intervened, but the civilian who was in the room when we entered was Willow Rosenberg. I saw her clearly. Miller thinks the male civilian may have been William Walworth, he's a TA in the Languages department, and he's a long-standing friend of Rosenberg. The female who kicked Gates was probably Buffy Summers. She shares the room with Rosenberg, and Walworth is a friend of her family. I think they thought we were a threat to Rosenberg and were only trying to protect her.”
“So a Teaching Assistant and my worst student fought you and, as I think the vernacular is, ‘you got your asses kicked’? Perhaps the Initiative is recruiting from the wrong places. I understood that you were the best the Army had to offer, and yet you were roundly beaten by a pair of civilians.”
“Yes, ma'am. With respect, though, they aren't just any civilians. I was talking to Walworth at the photocopier this afternoon, and he's big into martial arts. Wu Shu, Brazilian ju-jitsu, Capoera, Savate, he's done them all. I was asking him about Summers, wanting to know what sort of things she was interested in so I could strike up a conversation with her at the party,” Riley confessed, “and he told me that it was the main thing she and he had in common. So, yes, ma'am, we got our asses kicked, but by a pair of martial arts experts who were really pissed. We'd just broken into Summers' room, Gates had hold of her friend. They were reacting the way I would have done. Hostile 17 just took advantage of the fracas to make her escape.”
“The creature does seem to be remarkably adept at seizing opportunities. Give me some good news. My implant?”
“The implant works. Hostile 17 can't harm any human, in any way, without intense neurological pain. We'll bag it.”
“Yes, you will, Agent Finn. Before it goes to the newspapers. Dismissed.”