Taking the Initiative: Where have you been?
by bob_obo
Spike ran. He didn't know where, he didn't know where he was going. He just felt desperately like a complete pillock.
It had been fun. The idea of proving yet again that even in his current condition he was more than a match for the inept toy soldiers had seemed like a great idea.
As with most of his great ideas, this one had gone tits up.
Things had started well enough. Circling his way through town and across the university campus he'd quickly picked up a tail of initiative interest – but he'd easily slipped ahead of them, keeping them infuriatingly tantalised whilst never giving them any real chance to catch him.
He'd even taken a little time to boast pridefully to the turncoat tosser over the radio about how easy it all was. And it truly was, right up to the point where he suddenly realised they'd cornered him.
Typical bloody Americans. He thought bitterly. Act so stupid you can't believe it to be anything but an act, right up to the point where suddenly you realise they've bought your grandmother on ebay and are holding her for ransom.
He doubled back on himself, back down the narrow alleyway, cutting down a side entrance so narrow he almost had to turn sideways to fit down it. He sensed their presence before he saw them. More soldiers. Wankers seemed to have him boxed in.
He glanced upwards, again considering the possibility of a rooftop escape. Mostly flat roofs around here, it would be easy terrain for a vampire who could rival spiderman for inhuman acrobatics. Only with a far less gay costume. And of course a far more dashing actor than that prissy little Tony Magitter poof.
Anyway, he dragged his thoughts back from the needless and disturbing tangent. When I get a chance, eat Tobey Maguire for being a twat.
Right, first to get out of here. He'd considered the rooftops as an option earlier of course. He'd discounted it as too open and obvious. Too risky. Now with capture or worse a virtual certainty, risk was irrelevant.
He leaped, taking advantage of a ladder hanging down a fire escape to catapult himself up inhumanly to land lightly on the roof of the building which had a moment before been a wall with no more effort than a human would hurdle a small poodle.
Spike crouched, taking a moment to glance around warily, taking in his surroundings. Pretty much what he had expected. Flat roofs all around him – this district of town seemed to favours them, which was handy. No soldiers ready to shoot him, which was a big plus. He glanced warily to the east. There was that telltale reddish glow on the horizon that hinted that dawn had joined the chase, and was tantalisingly close. He could outrun the soldiers. He couldn't outrun her...
And he understood the initiatives strategy suddenly. They'd boxed him in, but made no attempt to capture him. They'd been happy to sit and wait.
Of ocurse they were. In an hour or so, mother-fucking nature will do their job for them...
Spike realsied with chilling certainty that if he didn't escape this trap now, he never would. There was no more time for playing around looking for weaknesses . He just had to go for it now. Live or die, at least he;d give the bastards a run for their money.
With that in mind, he leaed fluidly into motion. He sprinted across the rooftop in a random direction and leaped as he reached the yawning depth of the edge.
The darkness was thick enough to thwart his enhanced vision and instead of nimbly leaping from rooftop to rooftop as he'd planned, he instead totally misjudged and crashed painfully against the wall. He bounced back like a leather clad ping-pong ball, desperately graspping at the wall as he did. After a few confused moments he found himself clinging to a drainpipe with his fingertips, swinging precariously as the pipe groaned in protest and his fingers turned numb with the same sentiment.
For fucks sake.
He knew that the drop wouldn't kill him. He was a vampire, there wasn't much that would kill him. Dropping thirty foot into the laps of his enemy would certainly make him wish he was dead however. Unfortunately, while the roof of the building he'd been aiming for so disastrously was only a foot or so above him, his body treacherously informed him that there was no way it was going to help. I've had a hell of a night, it said. I may be slightly stronger and faster than your bog standard human, but you're asking too much, I've gone on strike. Until you start treating me better – stop with the smoking and drinking – although i'm grateful you've stopped the kinky shit with Dru, and I'll consider responding. Right not though, I'm completely exhausted, and theres nothing in the world that will convince me to do anything but plunge a bone breaking depth onto our enemies heads. Sorry.
Spike tried his best to ignore the complaints from his body. He tried to pull himself up, but distressingly found his body to be ignoring him in return. His arms seemed to have gone numb and he didn't want to disturb them in case they decided not to hold on anymore.
So he hung there. There wasn't really much else he could do. He hung there, splayed out desperately against the shear wall as if he could defy gravity, as if he could defy the reality of the situation, which clearly stated that he was entirely fucked.
And there was no-one coming to help him – after all, who would?
As if in answer, a slender arm extender itself above him. He focused on it. The arm, small, pale, impossible, was stretched from the roof of the building he was clung to. For a moment he toyed with the stubborn desire to resist help, regardless of the circumstance. Then he felt the last of his dwindling strength leave his body and he desperately grasped the hand as he fell form the wall like a drunken fly.
Spike heard a gasp of pain as his benefactor held him as he fell, and for dreadful a moment he though they would fail as they were dragged towards and over the precipice with him. Then they stopped, and so slowly that for the first time in his life, Spike felt a rush of vertigo, as he glanced down, he was pulled upwards to relative safety.
He collapsed gratefully, gasping for unneeded breath, shuddering violently.
After a few moments, he looked up warily, trying to collect himself. He saw shapely legs, which wasn't a bad thing but didn't really help his fractured thoughts.
“I though you might want some help”. Said Mira.
Spike gazed up at her in amazement. In his experience of human and demons, people were simply people. The idea that humans had some extra worth or “soul”, had been disproved as he'd seen again and again that when it came down to the blood, they'd always choose to save themselves over others. That made sense to him. Unless you love someone, you're always the centre of the universe. So why was she risking herself for him?
“Wouldn't say no.” he replied, masking his surprise.
She smiled, reaching down to help him up, “Shall we leave?”
He flinched back for a tiny moment, then accepted her hand. “Right love, sounds like a plan.” he drawled.
“What happened to your plan?” Mira queried
“Should have worked out fine.” Spike said boldly, as much to quell his own doubts as hers. “So long as they brats can still be trusted.”
“Shall we piss of then?”
“Ok.”


Maggie sat at the desk. She stared blankly at her laptop for a while, unseeingly staring at the blank rectangle that made the screen, appearing purposeless.
She smiled tightly. Ironically, she could understand that concept. All her life, she'd felt that she understood. She knew what she was doing, she knew what needed to be done. It was always confusing to her that so many people around her could look at the world with such uncertainty and confusion.
But for the first time in her life, she felt doubt. What if what she was doing what wrong? What if She was wrong?
She pushed the thought aside with years of determination. She couldn't be wrong. Not after so many years.
Just a little while longer, she promised herself. Then everyone will understand. Then there will be no more death. No more pain. I can stop it all.
The door to her office opened and she looked up from her dreams.
“Riley.”
“Sir.” The soldier stated.
Professor Walsh glanced at him tightly, “Is everything ok?”
“Yes sir.” Riley replied emotionless.
Maggie smiled sadly, “Good. You have the antidote?” She didn't really ask.
“Yes sir, Harris is waiting right outside for me.” he smirked slightly.
“Excellent.” Maggie determinedly thrust aside her doubts and insecurities to confront the issue. Buffy and her gang of misfits needed to die. There was no place for them anymore. She was deeply saddened by that fact, as everything in her screamed that they were the exact kind of people she should be saving. But their deaths could still serve some purpose.
“Alright Agent Finn. Continue with your mission.”

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