"What's wrong?"

"It's Spike." She winced again, waiting for the standard Xander-dismissal of Spike. But Xander's voice was tense when he replied.

"What's he done?"

"Been taken by Glory's goons."

"Huh?"

A summary later, Buffy asked for Anya. "Anya, do you know how to get hold of Giles?"

"Giles? Well, yes, I do--Xander!"

The phone was yanked from her hand. "And what do you need Giles for?" Xander demanded.

"I'm going to need help," Buffy admitted. "He's the toughest person we've got on tap. And . . . I know he'll go all the way when it comes to keeping Dawn out of Glory's hands."

He was quiet for a few moments. "The Parkeview, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'll meet you there."

"Xander, no! You can't."

"No, what I can't is I can't let you go out there with just an unchipped, unsouled vampire backing you up."

"He wants to stop Glory as much as we do, I'll be fine."

"That's good to know. I'll meet you there. Here's Anya." He handed the phone over.

"I have Giles' cell phone number," Anya said.

"Thanks. Can't you make him stay home?"

"You are joking, right? The testosterone is running." She sighed. "At least I got a few orgasms before you called."

Buffy decided not to let that thought get too far into her cerebral cortex and asked for Giles' phone number.

She had finished getting dressed before she got the nerve to dial the number. "Hello?" answered the so-very-familiar, slightly baffled voice.

"It--it's me, Giles."

"Buffy? How did you get this number?"

The snap in his voice made her flinch. "From Anya. It's an emergency. It's Spike."

"What's happened?"

She told the story once more. The other end of the line was silent. "Giles?"

"I don't suppose you'll let me deal with this myself."

"Uh, duh."

"Of course not. Damn, none of my people has the least idea of fighting intelligently. Do you need a ride? You're on my way."

"Thanks. I'll be ready."

"Who's looking after Dawn?"

"Anya's calling Willow and Tara, they should be here soon."

"And your mother?"

"Is hopefully still asleep. I'll meet you outside."

"All right."

Dawn had observed the entire conversation. "Do you think you can trust him?"

"I guess we'll find out." She opened her window. "Can you get downstairs without waking Mom?"

"Oh, sure, I'll go out my--Yeah, I can do it."

Buffy heard the fates singing a variant on that old maternal stand-by, "I Hope You Have A Kid Who's Just Like You." But arguing about sneaking out the window would have to wait. "I need you inside, Dawn. Go down the stairs, wait for Willow and Tara."

Not being quite dumb enough to look a gift avoided fight in the mouth, Dawn just nodded and went.

Buffy herself went out the window, bag of weapons over her shoulder. A few minutes later, Willow and Tara ran up. "Glory has Spike?" Willow gasped. "She thinks he's the key?"

"Her wrinkly guys think he knows who the key is."

"Which he does," Tara said. "Gosh. But he wouldn't tell."

"He may not have to. If she eats his mind ..."

The two witches looked at each other. "What are you going to do?" Willow asked.

"Whatever I have to to keep her from finding out."

"But how?"

Tires squealed as a car came around the corner down the street. Willow and Tara grabbed hands when they recognized the red BMW.

Buffy shrugged. "I'm taking help."

Tara frowned. "But he's--"

"Super strong, super fast, and I don't have to worry about something happening to him anymore." Buffy didn't mention Xander. "Hold the fort here, guys."

She ran to the street. The car braked hard but didn't come to a complete stop. Buffy vaulted over the passenger side and landed in the seat next to Giles. They sped off. Willow and Tara watched a moment, then headed towards the house.

"Shouldn't the lights be on?" Buffy said to Giles.

"Yes, I suppose so." He made no move to turn the headlights on, steering smoothly around another corner. The car actually seemed able to keep up with vampire reflexes. "You should have your seat belt on."

"Uh huh. The Parkeview."

"Right."

• **

Spike blinked back to consciousness, saw the tousled blonde hair and perfect face, and he knew he was dead. "Oh, my god, Harmony, what are you doing here?"

The woman blinked at him. "No, 'oh, my god, Glory.' Totally different noun. But you're right on the god part."

He finally cleared his vision, but the situation didn't improve. He was in a chair, tied up and held tight by two of the ugly demons in robes. The woman in front of him looked like any of a hundred daft females who spent more time on fashion than anything requiring any sort of intelligence, and the room was furnished on the wealthy line between tacky and gaudy. And Spike would rather be back in that wheelchair dealing with a bored Angelus than where he was now.

"Oh," he said intelligently. "So you're her. Glory. The hellgod."

The demon to his left smacked him hard upside of the head. "You will address her most wonderful amazingness with more respect, vampire." Spike snarled at him and collected another smack.

Glory raised a perfectly manicured finger. "OK, that raises an interesting little point. You're that Nail, Stake, Tentpeg--"

"Spike!"

"Whatever. You're the Slayer's pet vampire--"

"I am not!"

She put her finger over his lips. "Mother's talking. Dreg, why is he here?"

The demon on Spike's left straightened proudly. "Smirg said that he's the Key, most creamy smoothness."

"Uh huh. Dreg, what do we know about the Key?"

"Um, glowing green swirl of power--"

"Other than that. Like its current form."

"I'm most terribly sorry, your dark chocolate truffleness."

Glory blinked. "You've been saving that one, haven't you."

"Yes, most rich delectableness."

She looked at a demon standing nearby. "Go get me some."

The demon bowed. "At once, your mocha almond swirliness."

"And some of that, too." Glory turned to Spike. "What?"

Spike quickly wiped the look of disbelief off his face. "Uh, nothing ..." He saw the expectant looks. "... most bloody goodness."

"Euw. But you're a vampire. Still, euw." She turned back to Dreg. "Its current form, Dreg."

"The Key is in the form of an innocent, most holy wonderfulness."

"An innocent. And what is this, then?" She pointed to Spike.

"Um, he's a vampire, glorious one."

"And are vampires really known for being innocent?"

Spike opened his eyes real big, like one of those wretched Precious Moments figurines Dru liked to steal and poke the eyes out of.

Glory stared at him. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to look innocent?"

"Well, stop it. It's disturbing. You see, Dreg? Innocent and vampires? Don't mix. So what can we conclude from this?"

Dreg hunched down into his robes. "What, pretty shiny sparkling one?"

Glory backhanded him across the room. "A vampire is not the Key, idiot!" She tucked a curl back behind her ear and turned back to Spike. "So, why the heck did Smirg think you were my Key? Were you and the Slayer's baby sister talking about it? And what is up with that, anyway, you playing babysitter to a Slayer's bratty kid sister?"

"Not hardly," Spike smirked.

"Stocking the larder? You fattening her up or something?"

One of the other demons leaned forward. "This is the vampire with the chip, splendiferous one." Spike sneered at him.

"Oh, *you're* him." Glory poked a finger around in Spike's hair. "Gee, blond envy much?" Spike glanced at her hair. "Hey, this is natural, buddy. So there's a chip in your head, huh?"

"Uh, yeah."

"A chip in your brain," she said thoughtfully, digging her fingernail against his scalp. "That's gotta hurt."

Spike gasped as the skin was sliced open. Blood trickled through his hair. He heard a grating sound as Glory kept digging. She was chipping at his skull.

"So, you and--oh, yeah, Dawn, you were strolling along chatting about the Key, hm? You know who it is?"

"N--no, I don't."

Glory drew back her hand to look at her bloody finger, tsked, and flicked something out from under the nail. "Does she?" She reached back to his head.

"She's a kid, what does she know?"

"That's why I'm asking you." He couldn't help the wince as she went back to work. "You've got a thick skull. You and little Dawnie, chatting about the Key. What did you say?"

"Just--wondering." He saw a few small flecks of something fly from his head. Blood ran past his ear and down his neck.

"About what?" Glory cleaned her fingernail again. She peered at his head and turned her hand to get a better angle.

"About--about where it was, what to do about it, how to keep it away from you."

"Oh, now, is that nice? That's my Key, my very own special glowy Key, and I need it to get home." She twisted her wrist, and there was an audible pop. Spike bit his tongue to keep from yelling as he felt his skull break and something sink through. "No ideas on where the key is?" Glory asked. He didn't answer, and she frowned at him. "Oh, sorry." She pulled her fingertip free. "There you go."

Spike shook his head, unable to speak just yet.

"Well, poo. Oh, dammit, I broke a nail." She peered closely at her fingertip. "Is that brain? So much for the piano lessons, huh?" She held her hand out imperiously, and one of the demons dashed forward to wipe her finger.

"Why'd anybody tell me or the kid where the Key is, anyway?" Spike said. It had been a long time since he'd been tortured for a reason instead of just for fun, but the techniques of misdirection were coming back to him. "I didn't think anybody knew."

Glory patted his cheek. "Somebody knows, pookie. My guys have talked to somebody who knows."

"So why isn't he tied to the chair getting a trepanning?"

She slapped him, knocking the chair over and bouncing his head off the carpet. "Because you are." She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back up. "So if you don't know, who in that little bunch would?" She poked through his hair until she found the hole she'd made. "How far in is that chip, anyway?"

"It's not in there anymore!"

"Excuse me?"

"I've got my bite back." He jerked his head at the demons. "Ask them, they must have heard. I thought everybody knew by now."

Glory looked at her minions. "Well?"

Dreg consulted with the others. "Most awe-inspiring impressiveness, there have been some rumors that this Spike creature has been feeding on humans again."

"And you still thought he was innocent enough to be the Key? Why can't minions be fanatically loyal *and* smart, huh?" she said to Spike, who thought better of answering. "Any other little tidbits you've heard?"

"He lusts after the Slayer," one of the demons offered.

Glory frowned at Spike. "That scrawny thing?" He shrugged. "Go on, guys."

"He's been seen with the Slayer's Watcher," Dreg said. "The Watcher is a vampire now."

After a moment's thought, Glory walked over to Dreg. "The Slayer's Watcher has been turned into a vampire."

"Yes, most--"

A wave of her hand cut him off. "And when did this little event happen?"

"Several weeks ago, Glorificus."

Slowly she wrapped her hand around the front of his robe and lifted him up so she could look him in the eye. "The Slayer's Watcher, her greatest ally and a threat to me all by himself, was turned into a demon-possessed killer, and you didn't think I'd want to know?"

Dreg bowed his head. "I am a worm, most profound arbiter of my fate. Flay me alive and wrap my beating heart in my skin."

"Not in this dress I'm not, it's Versace." She pulled her arm back, preparatory to throwing him through the wall, then hesitated. "He'd know."

"Most holy?"

Glory dropped Dreg on the floor and went back to Spike. "The Watcher. He knows where the Key is, doesn't he."

"The Watcher?" Spike shrugged as well as he was able. "I wouldn't know, me and him, mostly we talk about killin' and--" He barely muffled the shout as she grabbed his face to hold his head still as she poked at the hole in his skull. His left cheekbone cracked under the pressure.

She hesitated, though, before she got much further into his brain than she'd already gone. "If I stick my finger too far in there, your voice could go all woobly along with your memories. So no more brain surgery." She let him go and smiled at his mingled gasp of relief and pain. "Heart surgery, now . . ." The smile never changed as she punched two fingers into his chest and snapped a piece off a rib. "Just got to make room to

"Just got to make room to work."

• **

Gaah, one word short. Stupid system. So, ominous enough? I'm not sure I've got Glory right.

Well that was a much more disturbing (and interesting) torture scene than what ME showed us.

I think your Glory is close. It's been awhile since I've seen a full episode with her, but she's more...I'm not sure. I like the Tentpeg, stake thing though.

You broke Spike's cheekbone. HIS CHEEKBONE!!! You bastard!

I like your Glory, but maybe she needs more of the princess tone - I'm not sure that you can replicate her horrible pronunciation, the d'ing of ts and the like.

Not airheady enough, got it.

And what about the CHEEKBONE!!!! It's like, like, like doodling a moustache on the Mona Lisa.

Yeah, Glory could use a little more airhead. (oh, dear. Porn hath corrupted me.)

Also 'goons'? It may be canon, I can't remember, but I thought it was a British word- it doesn't feel quite right with the American voices.

Elena is right about the cheekbone, too. Evil in a good way.

And-while I'm talking to you, connie, you're evil in a bad way, too. I posted the second Bun story at ff.n yesterday, and this morning I have two new reviews, both of which are good and imply I should write another one. Good is nice, but writing another one is not.