Who: Spike, Faith, Buffy, a bit of Peter. What: Visiting a deranged Slayer. When: Evening. Where: The place where Buffy is being held captive. Rating: TBD.
His recovery from his encounter with that bitch demon, Lilith, had been a quick one, but it seemed to go on longer than he thought that it would. The blame for that, of course, would solely rest in the hands of the stress mounted on Spike's shoulders. Buffy was a psychotic Slayer gone wild and there was some moron of a priest wannabe running about, still thinking that The First wanted for him to end the world. Apparently making stupid wishes was key in doing as much, since that's what he had gotten out of Caleb's escapades. So while Buffy got herself good and trapped by the others, Spike had been running about, trying to track down the miserable little bastard that had started all of this in the first place. It seemed that everyone was so focused on taking care of Buffy that they'd forgotten all about the big bad behind it all, so that was where Spike's priorities had been aimed for the past few weeks now.
He had gotten close. Terribly close. But every time he managed to get a lead on him, Caleb somehow managed slip away. It seemed strange that a being much powerful than himself would be so quick to vanish every time Spike got close to a confrontation, but Spike didn't put too much thought into it. He wanted him dead. If the moron wanted to play chicken then that was fine by him. It would make finding him all the sweeter.
But now he had other things to worry about. Like finally going off to visit Buffy after her capture. It was fortunate that Faith had contacted him about it, otherwise Spike didn't think that he'd have had it in him to go and see her alone.
Seeing Buffy like this sickened him. He wanted her to be right again. Spike honestly didn't know if he could handle facing a monster when there instead should have been an angel in it's place.
Parking his bike outside of the hotel, Spike cut the engine and started up the front walk. Seconds later he was pushing his way into the vaguely familiar lobby, hands reaching up to adjust the collar of his leather jacket as he moved.