The Fever, Part 3 Author: Elsa Frohman Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: Post Chosen, my AU AtS S5 Archive: http://www.the-sandlot.com/ and http://www.spikedreams.com/ Summary: Spike is working for Wolfram & Hart as an outside contractor. He's human -- sort of. "I thought they'd send Fred," Spike said when Knox and his crew arrived. Knox smiled and shrugged. "Whoever's on this detail might not be able to go back to headquarters -- ever. We decided it might be better for Miss Burkle to head up the support operations back at the office." Knox set about supervising the set up of a bewildering array of lab equipment. Some four hours after Spike telephoned Wolfram & Hart, the abandoned house had been converted to a field hospital, with six beds set up in the living room, the trash swept away, rubber mats covering the rotting flooring and the odor of disinfectant filling the air. The six beds were puzzling Spike. There were two "patients," Ralph and Maria, and possibly a third -- himself -- if it turned out he was vulnerable. The other three weren't for technicians, though. The Wolfram & Hart people had taken over the kitchen, laying out sleeping bags and air mattresses. Maria was already settled in the first hospital bed. Her low moans made it clear she was in increasing distress. Ralph was hovering around her, wringing his hands and worrying. He kept looking over at Spike, as if he thought Spike could make Maria better, but was just refusing to do it. "When they get all their widgets and thingamabob's working..." Spike told the nervous vampire, feeling less sure than he sounded. Gunn had been pacing like a caged animal until several of the technical crew complained he was getting in their way. He had retreated to a chair against the front wall, where he sat glaring at the proceedings. Actually, the size and swiftness of the W&H response caught Spike off guard. When he thought about it, though, it made sense that the corporation would react to a threat to its CEO. Spike might be in the questionable column where this infection was concerned, but Angel was solidly in the "at risk" category. Still, Spike had the uneasy feeling that something was amiss. He couldn't put his finger on it. Knox was being respectful and efficient as he set up shop. He'd started out by questioning Spike closely about his recollections of his previous encounter with the fever. The young man was friendly and even sympathetic to Spike's worries about the possibility of contracting the disease. "The female subject's reaction upon contact with your blood really does indicate the pathogen probably isn't going to thrive on your tissue or plasma," the young man explained. But even as Knox was giving his reassurances that Spike was probably immune, Spike had the oddest feeling that Knox would equally enjoy doing an autopsy on him as curing him. He wasn't sure why he felt that way. Maybe it was Knox's habit of calling the vampires "subjects" rather than patients. There wasn't anything specific in the young man's manner -- just a palpable enthusiasm for exploration of the pathogen that seemed to go beyond wanting to protect his boss. Spike was also aware that this was the young man that Fred tended to chatter on about -- when she wasn't wondering why she couldn't get back together with Gunn. Their last few conversations had been peppered with "Oh, Knox says..." and "I can't believe how good he is at..." and a few "Do you think it would be OK if I invited him over? I mean, he does work for me. It wouldn't be harassment, would it?" Spike hadn't had an answer to that one. Workplace ethics was not a subject for which he could claim any relevant experience. The W&H crew had finished filling the bedroom where Spike and Gunn had first encountered Maria with electronic equipment, and Knox came over to Spike carrying a basket of supplies for drawing blood. "We'll start with some samples. You, Mr. Gunn, and the two acute subjects," he said. "I think you should start by sedating Maria," Spike said with a frown. "You've been here nearly four hours, and all you've done for her is put her in bed. She's starving, and she's in pain." "Can't give the female subject any drugs for now," Knox said evenly as he fished a disposable needle out of his basket. "We need uncontaminated tissue and blood samples." Spike glowered as he rolled up his sleeve. "We've got an idea that may help her, though," Knox added as he put the rubber tourniquet on Spike's upper arm to prepare to take his blood sample. "We've been developing a synthetic blood product in the medical section. It's completely inorganic, but the large molecules mimic the structure of the proteins in hemoglobin. If I'm right, it won't trigger the anaphylactic reaction that human blood does in the second-stage subjects. Our on-hand supplies should be here within the next half-hour." Knox took his first sample and labeled the tube of blood. "Your turn now, " he said to Gunn. Gunn bared his arm. "You sure I'm not going to get sick?" Gunn asked. "Well, you might catch a cold -- nobody's found a way to stop that. But if Spike's information is correct, you're probably not going to get Blood Fever," Knox said cheerfully. "What he told me matches what little I could dig out of the Wolfram & Hart database before I came. So, I'm reasonably confident you're safe." Gunn looked unconvinced. "What about him?" Gunn asked, nodding toward Spike. "Been hearing a lot of 'probablys' and 'we thinks.' When you gonna tell Spike he's OK?" "I should have an answer to that before too long," Knox replied. "After I've collected these samples, I can compare his with the first-stage subject, and with you, our fully human subject; that should tell us what we need to know about his prognosis. "I'm pretty sure where you and Spike are concerned, our primary objective is to find a way to either kill the pathogen in your system or filter it out." Knox took his sample and left Gunn to brood. "Give the boy a break," Spike said in a low voice as he came over to join Gunn. "It's not like he hasn't taken any risk to help us. Since he's come here, he's just as infected as you and me. If he can't find an answer, he's out of a job." Gunn just frowned. Knox was now approaching Ralph for a sample. The skinny vampire was backing away with a look of horror on his face. "Keep away!" Ralph whined, retreating back into a corner and holding up his arms to protect himself. "I just need a small sample," Knox said evenly. "You'll hardly feel it." "No... I can't..." Ralph whimpered. "I can call a couple of technicians in here to hold you down," Knox said with a little more force. Spike stepped in. "You need to do this to help Maria," he said gently, taking Ralph's arm and leading him back out of the corner. "They need to see what it looks like at each stage. And it really doesn't hurt." He showed Ralph the little bandage on the inside of his elbow. Ralph struggled with himself. His mouth twitched as he tried to take control of his fear. "It's OK for you," he whined. "You're not scared of anything. You're Captain America, man. Me, I get queasy just looking at a needle like that." "Captain America? Please..." Spike said with a snort. "Not bloody likely." "I'll faint if I look at it." "Then don't look at it," Spike said with a sigh. "Here. Sit down. Now, look over there. Look at Gunn." He put his hands on Ralph's shoulders to steady him, then gave Knox a look that said "do it quick." Ralph gulped and squeezed his eyes shut when the tourniquet went on, but he didn't even notice when Knox plunged the needle into his vein. When the tourniquet came off he shook his head. "Is that all there is to it?" he asked. "That's all," Knox said as he labeled the tube of blood. He moved on to Maria, who glared at Ralph as she offered her arm without protest. His four samples neatly labeled and racked, Knox gestured for Spike to follow him out of the room. He led Spike out of the repaired back door into the yard. The sky was turning pink in the east. The night was nearly spent, along with Spike's patience. He wanted to lie down somewhere and get some sleep. "I brought you out here because of the non-human subjects' enhanced hearing. I wanted to talk to you privately." Spike nodded wearily. "The female subject can't do any harm in her condition, so I haven't restrained her. However, I'm concerned about the male. You say he's harmless, but in this stage of the infection, he's going to be feeling a very strong need to feed. Even as timid as he seems, I'm thinking we should restrain him -- for the safety of the technicians who have to work around him." Spike clenched his jaw. His hand came up, and he took Knox by the throat, pushing him back against the house. Only his best effort at self-control kept him from tightening his grip on the young man's throat. "If you're wondering who you have to worry about, I'm a lot more dangerous to you than Ralph," he said between clenched teeth. "I could tear your head off without even trying; you'd be just one more added to thousands I've killed. "Ralph, on the other hand, has never harmed a soul -- never. And it's not because some government mad scientist shoved a chip in his head. It's because he doesn't. That's just who he is." Spike let go of Knox's throat and stepped back. "OK, OK," Knox said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I get it." His hand touched his throat, almost as if to check that it was still there. "It's just so weird. Who ever heard of a vampire who doesn't hurt people?" "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your bloody corporation," Spike snapped, turning and heading back into the house. ------------- He's back at the Initiative in a glass cage. The air is dry and odorless, and the floor is hard and slick. There's no comfort to be had anywhere. The white-coated technicians come and stare at him through the glass wall. He's naked, and he wants to cover himself, but... He can't move. He's pinned to an operating table with steel bands he can't break even with his vampire strength. The light shines down in his eyes as they cut through his scalp and drill through his skull. He's awake. He feels every probe, each surgical cut and each vibration of the drill. He screams, but no sound comes out. Giles and Buffy are looking down at him, their heads blocking out the painful white light for a moment. They examine him like a virus under a microscope. "Are you sure this chip will do the trick?" Buffy asks. "Our best brains are on the job," Giles replies. "He will be made a suitable consort for you." "Con-what?" Buffy asks, wrinkling her nose. "I just want a rock- hard cock that goes all night." "Yes, quite," Giles says. He wants to beg her not to do this to him. He wants to promise her he'll be good; he'll do anything she asks if she'll just set him free. He'll stay with her forever and never leave her. He'll be her willing slave. But he can't speak. His mouth is stuffed with cotton packing. "But you did leave her," Knox says through a surgical mask, looking down at him from between Giles and Buffy. "You abandoned her. Moved and left no forwarding address." "About bloody time," Giles adds with satisfaction. "We'll try the sunshine test first," Knox says. "If he doesn't burn up, he'll be ready for you to take home." "Do you have a dark chocolate mint Spike?" Buffy asks. "Because I'm not sure I like this white chocolate version." ----------- Spike sat up with a jerk, his torso drenched in sweat. He was panting. Gunn turned over in his sleeping bag. "You OK, man?" he mumbled. "Yeah," Spike said, letting out a deep breath. "Bad dream. It's nothing." Gunn turned over to face away from Spike again. Within moments, his breathing had become deep and even once more. Spike sighed. He didn't think he was going to get back to sleep now. He shuddered as the dream replayed in his mind. The part about implanting the chip without anesthesia wasn't true, of course. He hadn't even known what they'd done to him until after he escaped. But the feel of the place in the dream was absolutely accurate -- the glass-walled cages; the dry, odorless air; the men in white lab coats staring at him; and the feeling of trapped helplessness. It took him back to a place he really didn't want to go -- not ever -- but especially not right now. It was full daylight outside, though the sun didn't penetrate this space. The W&H crew had left the plywood over the windows and the room was a bit stuffy. He and Gunn had been given the second bedroom so the 24-hour crews working in the rest of the house wouldn't disturb them. Spike lay back down and stared up at the ceiling. He reminded himself for the hundredth time that the W&H medics were nothing like the doctors at the Initiative. They were here to help. They worked for Angel, and stopping this disease was their only objective -- he hoped. His misgivings were undoubtedly a result of his experience with the Initiative. White-coat types gave him the wiggins. Knox was here to help. There was no question about it. He just wished he believed it. Elsa Frohman http://www.frohman.net/