Under the Sun

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Archive: Sure, if you already have my stuff. If not, just ask.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters herein; Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and other lucky folks do. Of course, I'm not the one making money off of them.

Summary: Set after Avocation in an alternate S4 where many events of canon get thrown out the window. This one won't make any sense if you haven't read the previous story.

A/N: The title comes from Ecclesiastes, which most people know from the phrase, "A time for everything, and a season for everything under heaven." Really, this story is based on the entire book, which is probably my favorite in the Bible. It talks about making the most of what one has now, and while some find it depressing, I love it. If you've got the time, I'd really recommend you read the whole thing.

Chapter 29

"I see thine image through my tears to-night,/And yet to-day I saw thee smiling. How/Refer the cause?—Beloved, is it thou/Or I, who makes me sad? The acolyte/Amid the chanted joy and thankful rite/May fall so flat, with pale insensate brow,/on the altar-stair. I hear thy voice and vow,/Perplexed, uncertain, since thou art out of sight,/As he, in his swooning ears, the choir's Amen./Beloved, dost thou love? or did I see all/The glory as I dreamed, and fainted when/Too vehement light dilated my ideal,/For my soul's eyes? Will that light come again,/As now these tears come—falling hot and real?" Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnet 30: I See Thine Image Through My Tears To-Night"

When Wesley had dragged Ethan Rayne through the front door of the Summers' house, Giles had merely glared at the magician from behind horns and green skin. He had really wanted to rip the man's arms off, and he might have if Joyce and Wesley hadn't been there. The thick bloodlust of the Fyarl had begun clouding his mind as soon as he saw the magician, and he'd been ready to kill.

"Hello, Ripper," Ethan had smirked. "You're looking a little green today."

Giles took one step forward, but Wesley waved him back, pushing the gun a little harder into the man's back. "You'll reverse the spell now," Wesley ordered.

"And if I don't?"

"Then you'll get a bullet through your foot," Wesley replied. "It might not kill you, but I've heard it's painful, and you certainly won't be able to run far enough or fast enough to prevent Giles from killing you."

Joyce was standing in the doorway watching the whole thing, and she spoke up. "I don't think Rupert is the one he needs to worry about."

Wesley smiled. "You heard the woman, Rayne. She wants Giles back."

The spell had been amazingly quick to reverse, and Giles had immediately gone upstairs to put on a shirt, leaving Wesley to watch over the magician. Wesley had done quite a good job cleaning up this little mess, and if Giles hadn't been convinced before, he would be now. Giles found himself thinking that every young Watcher ought to be put under Spike's tutelage for a while.

By the time he'd gone back downstairs, Giles had found Wesley and Joyce cheerfully discussing what they ought to do with Ethan. Joyce seemed to think that shooting him in the foot and dropping him in the desert somewhere would be a nice option. Wesley said he knew where a family of baby Ebrir demons were, and they could shut Ethan up in there and let them nibble him to death.

Ethan was looking decidedly pale.

As soon as Giles entered the room, however, Joyce went quiet, and Wesley stood. "I have to go," he said. "I'm meeting Buffy soon. Is there anything else you need?"

"No, you've been a great help today, Wesley," Giles said quietly. "I think I can handle Ethan from here."

Wesley nodded. "Any time."

Joyce offered him a warm smile. "Why don't you come by tomorrow night for dinner?" she suggested. "I know you'll be back here the night after for Buffy's party, but I'd like to say thank you."

"I don't think I could ever get enough of your cooking, Joyce," Wesley replied, giving Giles a look that was all-too-plainly filled with pity. "What time would you like me to come over?"

She walked him to the door, and Giles glared at Ethan. "I ought to kill you for that. You put her in danger."

"You didn't mention that you were sleeping with someone," Ethan pointed out.

"Would that have changed your mind?"

"Probably not," he admitted rather cheerfully. "You were such an easy target."

Giles stood. "You are going to leave town, and you are not to return," he said. "The next time I see you, I will make sure you don't live to regret it."

Ethan rose, brushing out imaginary wrinkles in his clothing. "Fine, Ripper, I'll leave you to your domesticated life." He looked over at Giles. "You were never meant for mundane things, you know. You have the rest of your life, and you're living like—"

He squeaked a bit as Joyce showed up with a large kitchen knife. "He's living like what?" she asked, her tone daring him to complete the sentence.

"Nothing," Ethan said, not being a stupid man. "I'm sure he has a very nice life."

Joyce narrowed her eyes. "If you come back to town again, Rupert won't have to do anything to you if I get there first. I don't like being treated like someone's toy, and every time you come to town, you disrupt our lives just to watch the fun. Next time, I promise that you won't be having any fun at all." She took a step back. "You're lucky Spike wasn't able to make it. I would have let him eat you this time."

Ethan took his opportunity and slipped out of the house, moving as quickly as he could without running.

"Joyce, that was—"

"I don't want to talk to you right now," she said simply. "I need to call my assistant at the gallery, and then I'm going to take a hot bath. I think I deserve one."

That had been several hours ago, and she still wasn't talking to him. Giles felt rather silly for having been caught up in Ethan's spell in the first place, but that didn't compare to the helplessness of not knowing what to say to Joyce to get her to talk to him again. He watched her from the kitchen entrance as she put dinner together; apparently she wasn't so upset that she'd given up feeding him. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are," she replied, pausing in her chopping. "You have to be more careful, Rupert. What if Wesley hadn't been able to find that man, or if he'd already left town? What would we have done then? I could have lost you."

"We would have figured something out," Giles responded.

Joyce turned. "And if they hadn't? You know, it might be one thing if Ethan was an old friend, but he's tried to kill you three times now!"

"There was only the one time," Giles said, "and I was in danger anyway." At the expression on her face, he realized that now was not a good time to argue about it. "You're right. I shouldn't have had a drink with him. Next time he comes offering information, I'll beat it out of him, and I won't bother with the drink."

Joyce sighed and shook her head. "Fine."

"Are you still angry at me?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It was a little disturbing to wake up next to a demon this morning."

Giles stepped behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Is there anything I can do that would make it up to you?"

"I think you should probably use your imagination," Joyce replied. "And you'd better make it good."

Giles began to knead her shoulders, knowing that he had his evening's work cut out for him. "I can manage that."

Really, Ethan had no idea what he was talking about; this was the only life he wanted.

~~~~~

The soldiers moved slowly, and not so silently that Buffy was concerned about them hearing Wesley tailing them. She'd asked him to keep his distance, not wanting him to risk discovery. He had the tranquilizer rifle, as well as the handgun she'd spotted him carrying when they'd been trying to rescue Spike; she just hoped that he didn't need either.

This was the first time she'd patrolled with a squad, rather than just Riley and maybe one of his buddies. They all seemed nice enough, but she could see them giving her strange looks on occasion, as though they were trying to categorize her and coming up short. It made her feel strange and uncomfortable, and she was beginning to understand why Spike had been so upset by her blithe acceptance of their goals.

It had been one thing when she was talking to Riley, who had treated her with respect and enthusiasm, or with Professor Walsh, whose curiosity had made her uncomfortable, but hadn't been unkind.

The other soldiers might not have done anything untoward, but Buffy got the feeling that they looked at her as something not quite human.

Her friends had never treated her that way, and neither had Spike.

The first problem in the evening arose when they came upon a vampire; Buffy was all for staking it, but Riley's quiet order came through clearly. "We're bagging and tagging tonight. Professor's orders."

Buffy watched the vampire stroll along, knowing exactly what would happen if she followed Riley's command. They would capture him, one or two of the guys would take him back to the lab, and then they'd stick him in a cage for who knew how long; only when he served no other purpose would they kill him.

She knew this, because they'd done the same thing to Spike.

It didn't feel right.

"I've got it," Buffy said quietly, springing out of her hiding place before Riley could call her back. She hit the vampire with a flying kick, watching as he got to his feet again with a snarl.

"Slayer," he hissed.

She smiled. "Slayee."

He was obviously not terribly bright, because instead of running away, he launched himself at her. Buffy pulled out a stake, allowing the vampire to impale himself, hoping that it looked enough like an accident that no one would suspect that she'd killed him on purpose.

"Buffy!" Riley whispered. "That was supposed to be a live capture."

She hoped she appeared properly apologetic. "Sorry, I guess habit just took over. It won't happen again."

There was some grumbling from the other guys, but no one said anything, and the Slayer sent up a brief prayer that they wouldn't run into any more vampires or demons tonight. She didn't think she'd be able to get away with that again.

~~~~~

Although he wasn't close enough to hear their words, Wesley watched as the squad sped up, moving in on a nearby demon that their devices had detected. He picked up his own pace to match, keeping a sharp eye out for the demon, hoping that it was something legitimately dangerous that neither he nor Buffy would have to feel too badly about letting them capture.

Wesley's heart sank as he saw exactly who it was.

Rof stood in a small clearing; he had obviously sensed the soldiers, because he was holding his square body stiffly, and his bright orange eyes were wide with fear.

There was no way Wesley could allow him to be taken. Not only would Spike be furious that the Initiative had one of his friends, but Wesley liked Rof. He was not only harmless, he was also very helpful, and what the Initiative would do to him—

It didn't bear thinking about.

Wesley knew that there was no way to get a message to Buffy, and she had no way of knowing that the soldiers were closing in on one of Spike's friends. He would just have to hope that he could give Rof an opportunity to escape, and that Buffy would understand when he started dropping soldiers with tranq darts.

And if that didn't work, Wesley had a gun; he knew that he couldn't allow Rof to be taken alive, not when he knew what they would do to him.

Not when the demon would almost certainly prefer death.

~~~~~

The first thing Buffy noticed when she saw the demon was the curiously human expression it wore—it looked scared to death, and not at all scary. It had sensed their approach, and was looking around wildly from some way of escape, but the Initiative had trained their soldiers well. They flanked the demon, tasers out and ready, and Buffy knew that there was nothing she could do.

She just hoped that she was imagining things, and that the demon was extremely dangerous and truly better off in an Initiative cell.

Buffy heard a muffled grunt, and she watched as one of the soldiers went down hard. She could just make out the tufted end of the tranq dart embedded in his thigh. Her eyes widened as she realized exactly what Wesley was doing, and another soldier went down.

Riley and the remaining three soldiers were immediately on alert for the attacker. "Where is he?" Riley called. "Does anyone have a visual?"

Buffy took her opportunity, tackling the demon and holding tightly as she rolled both of them into the bushes. She made certain that it was on top, hoping that she wasn't doing something phenomenally stupid and that it wasn't going to kill her. "Run," she ordered.

The demon didn't have to be told twice, although she thought she might have seen gratitude in its eyes before it disappeared into the underbrush.

"Buffy?" She heard Riley called to her, and she rolled out from the bushes with a groan. "Are you okay?" he demanded, coming over to help her up. "What happened?"

"I don't know," she said. "As soon as I touched its skin, I started feeling sick."

He looked torn. "We have to get the guys back to base. Maybe you should come back with us, get yourself checked over."

Buffy shook her head, not wanting to spend any more time in the underground lab than she absolutely had to. "No, I'm sure it'll wear off in a minute. I think I may just head home. You take care of your men."

"Are you sure?" Riley asked. "I can call you a ride."

"No, I'll be fine," she said again. "I'm already feeling better." Buffy stood up straighter. "It must just have been a passing thing."

He nodded, still not looking happy about it, but clearly focused on getting his men out of there. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing," Buffy replied, watching as the soldiers disappeared, carrying their unconscious comrades with them. She stood where she was, wondering if Wesley was going to come out of hiding.

"You handled that well," he said, stepping out from among the trees.

She turned to look at him. "So did you. Nice shooting." Buffy hesitated. "Any particular reason you nearly blew your cover?"

"The demon—Rof—is a friend of Spike's," Wesley explained. "I didn't think he'd be very happy to find out that he'd been picked up by the Initiative."

Buffy swallowed hard. "No, I don't think he would." She stared into the trees. "Did you see him?"

"He got off alright," Wesley assured her. "I saw him as he left. The good news is that Rof will spread the word that you aren't working with the Initiative, even if it appears that you are."

"What good will that do me?" Buffy demanded. "I'm supposed to be the one killing demons, Wes. I'm the Slayer; it's my job."

"It's not your job to help the government use them for experimental purposes." Wesley put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Rof is harmless; I wouldn't have—"

"I know," she said quickly. "I'm not upset at that, it's just... This should have been perfect, Wesley. The Initiative could do so much, they could protect so many more people, save so many more lives. Instead, they're doing God knows what, for who knows what purpose. I don't know what side they're even on."

"Maybe they're not on any side but their own." He gave her an apologetic smile. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home."

Buffy nodded slowly. "That would be nice. Do you know when Spike's coming back?"

"No idea," Wesley said. "I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he can be, though. I know he didn't want to leave you."

She laughed shortly. "Right. Because he has every reason to stay."

"He has you," Wesley said simply.

Buffy wondered if that was enough now that she was working with the enemy.

~~~~~

"Let me get this straight, Agent Finn," Maggie Walsh said slowly, as if she was speaking to a very small child. "You found one vampire and one hostile of unknown origin tonight, and you didn't capture either of them. Not only that, but two of your men are in the infirmary right now sleeping off some sort of drug from tranquilizer darts."

"Professor," Riley began, only to be cut off.

"I want to know what happened," she snapped, "and I don't want any excuses."

"Buffy dusted the vampire," Riley said. "She said it was an accident."

Walsh looked from Riley to Forrest and Graham. "And you believe her?"

"She is the Slayer." Riley felt the need to protect Buffy, at least until she grew a little more used to the discipline of the Initiative. She was a rookie, and he wanted to give her time to adjust. "She's not used to capturing them alive."

"And the demon?"

"She said there was something on its skin that made her feel sick," Riley replied. "She looked pretty bad, too."

Walsh nodded reluctantly. "I see. And the marksman?"

"Unknown, Professor," Riley replied. "We couldn't afford to lose any more men, not when we couldn't find him."

Walsh sighed. "Fine. Don't let something like this happen again, Agent Finn. Next time, we could have bodies in the morgue rather than the infirmary. You're dismissed."

As she'd expected, Riley was the first one out the door, and she asked Forrest to stay. "Your opinion, Agent Gates?"

"I think the Slayer is a liability," Forrest replied. "She's sloppy and undisciplined, and she's a distraction to the men."

Walsh nodded. "What about the vampire and the demon? Accidents, or something else?"

Forrest hesitated. "I can't say. Dusting the vampire could have been an accident. She was carrying a stake, not a taser, so it's possible. Riley was right about her looking sick right after she came into contact with the demon. It's all plausible."

"I want you to put a watch on her," Walsh instructed. "I want to know where she goes, who she's with, and if there's anything suspicious, I want to know right away."

Forrest raised his eyebrows. "You think she's hiding something from us?"

Walsh shook her head. "I don't know. We haven't been able to discover any reason behind her strength and speed. We do know that she's capable of taking out an entire platoon without breaking a sweat. I think you might be right; she might be a liability rather than an asset."

"Should I say anything to Finn?" Forrest asked.

"No," Walsh replied. "I don't think he'd understand. You're on point on this one, Agent Gates."

"Yes, ma'am," the soldier said, waiting until he was out of her office to grin. It looked like Riley was finding himself out of favor.

~~~~~

"Spike!" Cordelia waved him over to a table where she sat with Harmony and a thin, dark-haired man he didn't recognize. "How are you?" she asked, giving him a hug.

He managed a smile for her. "Good, pet. If I didn't think it was impossible, I'd say you were looking even better than you were the last time I saw you."

She beamed at him. "It's the fame and fortune," she replied. "It agrees with me." Cordelia turned to the others. "You remember Harmony, and this is Doyle. He insisted on tagging along tonight."

"Someone has to keep you two lovely ladies out of trouble," Doyle said, causing Harmony to giggle.

"Hi, Spike," she said. "I wanted to thank you for sending me to Lorne. He was a huge help."

Spike smiled. "Glad to hear it, Harmony. You're doing okay, then?"

"Oh, yeah!" she responded enthusiastically. "I found a job and everything, and I'm on a human-free diet. It's been great. I'm much happier than I was when I was trying to be evil."

"Great," he replied, looking around for Lorne. He'd called Cordelia to let her know that he was in town, even though he didn't have much time to chat. When Spike had informed her that he was planning on going to Caritas, she'd insisted on meeting him there, saying that she hadn't been in ages, and she wanted to see Lorne anyway.

"I told Lorne you were coming, and he said he'd be on the lookout for you." Cordelia touched the chair next to her in invitation. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Spike shook his head. "Sorry, luv. I'm already running late as it is. I was hoping to get in and get out as quickly as possible."

"I never would have guessed," Lorne said, coming up behind him. "Why don't we go somewhere a little more private," he suggested.

The green-skinned demon led the way behind the stage, where there wouldn't be quite so many eyes on them. "I need your advice," Spike said without preamble.

Lorne's red eyes widened. Spike had often sent others his way for guidance, but he'd never tried singing himself, and had insisted that Lorne keep whatever opinions he had to himself. The demon decided that it wasn't worth the time or effort to get him up on stage; Spike had the air of a desperate man, and it wouldn't do to push him too far.

"Hum a few bars for me, sweet cheeks," Lorne directed. "I'll see what I can do." Spike sang the first few bars of "My Way," and Lorne held up a hand to stop him. "Okay, this is the easy part. That girl of yours is in trouble; stick close to her, otherwise things could turn out very bad for both of you, not to mention the rest of the world. The hard part is letting this go."

Spike shook his head. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sure, you do," Lorne replied. "You keep thinking that how those soldiers treated you changes something." He pushed the curtain aside slightly. "Look at them," he ordered, pointing at Cordelia, Harmony, and Doyle. "They're all in a better place because of what you did."

Spike snorted. "I didn't do anything. Gave them your number and sent them on their way."

"You cared enough to take the time to do that," Lorne corrected him. "Most people would have given up, or claimed that it wasn't any of their business. You pointed them in the right direction, and then you let them make the choice. That's what makes you who you are, William. Remember that."

Spike stared at the table of three, watching as Cordelia and Harmony laughed at something Doyle said. Cordelia put her hand on Doyle's arm, a natural gesture, and the man's face lit up as though she'd just given him the moon. They looked happy—all of them. According to Lorne, he had something to do with that.

"You'll tell Cordelia I'll give her a call next time I'm in town?" Spike asked. "I've got a party to make."

"Get out of here," Lorne ordered. "And next time you get the chance, bring that girl with you."

Spike nodded. "What about them—the soldiers?"

"I can't tell you that," Lorne replied. "It could go either way right now. Just stick close to your girl, and make sure you're watching her back."

"Thanks," Spike said, heading out the back way for his car. He was already late, but if he hurried, he just might make it.

~~~~~

Spike parked his car at his place and then headed to the Summers' residence on foot. After what Lorne had said, he had no intention of letting Buffy out of his sight, although he wanted to go carefully after that warning. It wouldn't do to draw attention to himself at this juncture, and while he loved his Mustang, that's exactly what it did.

He found himself looking forward to seeing Buffy and the others with a desperation that startled him. Spike had believed himself capable of making it on his own, but Lorne's words had reminded him that he was happier when he was with others. Being with the Slayer and her friends had taught him that, and he wouldn't give it up again.

If he did, Spike would have allowed the soldiers to win, and he would prove them right.

Lorne's warning, plus his own sixth sense told him to go carefully, and he spotted the two men before they saw him. Spike stopped, undecided. He could go around through the backyard, but he didn't want to risk being seen. If they were already suspicious of Buffy, and then recognized him, it might go worse for her.

After a moment's thought, Spike disappeared back into the night, heading for the convenience store nearest the Summers' house. He dialed their number, smiling as Joyce answered. "Hello?"

"It's me," he said. "Can I speak to Buffy?"

"Where are you?" Joyce asked. "Is everything okay?"

Spike hesitated. "Not quite, but I don't think there's anything to be concerned about right now. Just thought I'd wish Buffy a happy birthday, yeah?"

"Okay, Spike, but I still want to see you soon."

"Tomorrow," Spike promised. "I'll stop by the gallery."

"Stop by the house tomorrow afternoon," Joyce corrected. "My assistant can handle things for a few hours."

"Alright, luv. I'll see you then."

Spike waited for a few seconds before he heard Buffy's voice; it had been too long. "Spike?"

"Yeah, it's me," he replied. "I'm in town."

He could hear her swallow. "You can't make it?"

"You've got two soldiers sitting outside your house, keeping an eye on you," Spike replied. "Last thing I want is for one of them to recognize me and get you into more trouble."

"Oh." There was a long pause. "I got your letter."

Spike closed his eyes, wanting nothing more than to be there with her. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Buffy."

"Don't be," she replied. "I should have talked to you first."

"I should have been talking in the first place," Spike responded. "We both handled things badly."

"What are we going to do now?" Buffy asked.

Spike knew she wasn't going to like it. "What have you told the soldiers about me? Anything?"

"Riley's really the only one who knows anything about you," Buffy said. "I've told him you were out of town on business."

"Let's keep it that way," Spike said. "I don't want them to connect me to you."

"No, I think that would be bad," Buffy agreed. "Do you—can we meet at some point?"

"Don't think that would be a good idea as long as you've got a tail," Spike said, his tone apologetic. "I'm fairly sure this won't last much longer."

Buffy was quiet for a moment. "You think they're going to try something?"

"I have it from a good source that it's likely," Spike said. "I've got your back, luv. You may not see me, but I'll be there."

"Be careful, Spike," she said, sounding just a little desperate.

"You too," Spike replied. "And happy birthday, Buffy."

He cut the connection, but not before he heard her whispered, "I love you."