A New Bird by jnharrow

1. Chapter One by jnharrow

2. Chapter Two by jnharrow

3. Chapter Three by jnharrow

4. Chapter Four by jnharrow

5. Chapter Five by jnharrow

Chapter One by jnharrow
Author's Notes:
First scene completely taken from Lie to Me then pretty much AU after that, with a line or two of dialogue pinched here and there – you’ll recognize them. Also, the gang never showed up at the Sunset Club (Gang meaning Angel, etc.) Written for Seasonal Spuffy.
"You sing the sweetest little song," Drusilla crooned. "Won't you sing for me, hmm? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Darling!" Spike called from the doorway. "I heard a funny thing just now. Lucius tells me that you went out on a hunt the other night."

"My tummy was growly. And you were out." Returning her focus to the bird cage, Drusilla tried again to coax a response out of the dead bird. "Come on." She whistled a few notes to encourage it. "I'll pout if you don't sing."

"You, um, meet anyone?" Spike prodded. "Anyone interesting? Like Angel?"

"Angel." She said vaguely, not looking at him.

"Yeah." Spike clenched his jaw nearly imperceptibly and bestowed a kiss on her temple. "So... What might you guys have talked about, then? Old times? Childhood pranks? It's a little off, you two so friendly, him being the enemy and all that."

Drusilla ignored him and prompted the bird again, promising, "I'll give you a seed if you sing."

"The bird's dead, Dru. You left it in a cage, and you didn't feed it, and now it's all dead, just like the last one," Spike snapped impatiently. But as she shrank away from him and whimpered, his frustration evaporated and he said gently, "Oh, I'm sorry baby. I'm a bad, rude man. I just don't like you goin' out, that's all." He took her hand gently. "You are weak." He smiled as he brought her fingers to his lips, "Would you like a new bird? One that's not dead?"

Drusilla smiled.

***

The Slayer lay at the bottom of the steps, unconscious. Spike gestured to some minions to chain her hands and feet then turned to Ford.

"I delivered. I handed her to you," Ford said expectantly.

Spike said thoughtfully, "Yes, I suppose you did."

"So. What about my reward?"

"Princess." Spike motioned to Drusilla. "Care to give the boy his reward?"

Drusilla embraced Ford from behind, morphed and bit down hard on his neck. At the pain of the bite, he struggled briefly, but she held him firmly.

"Then we're out of here. Grab a little takeout and leave!" he shouted and then lowered his voice again. "Got to get the Slayer away before the bloody cavalry shows up as it always seems to around here." Spike cast an irritated glance at the bound slayer.

Drusilla finished and Spike told a minion to pick up the boy's body. Another hoisted the Slayer's. Ford's head lolled brokenly, bloody lips slackened in death as the minion shouldered him.

"He tasted funny," Drusilla complained as they left the club.

"I'm sure he did," Spike said with a disgusted look at the limp corpse. "But I did make a promise." He caressed her cheek gently.

She wrinkled her nose. "We're not going to keep him are we, my Spike? I didn't like him. Miss Edith didn't like him either."

"I'll keep my promise." Spike smiled. "He'll rise and then you can play with him a bit before you stake him, yeah? Would you like that, pet?"

Drusilla bit her lip petulantly. "I want to play with the Slayer."

He stroked her hair. "So you shall, princess. So you shall. I did promise you a new bird, didn't I? This one's alive yet. But we need her to stay alive for a little. So, the boy first."

Looking doubtful, Drusilla said, "I don't think this bird will like my seeds. She'll make a poor pet, my knight. She'll peck, peck, peck at us. You should kill her now. Kill her now, for me, Spike. Nasty Slayer, she's not a sweet little, lovely bird. Kill her now, Spike," she whined at him and hung on his arm, pleading. "She'll bring us bad luck. Bird of ill omen…harbinger of doom…she doesn't look dark, but she's a raven underneath for us, love..."

"Stop it, Dru." He shook her off gently. "She won't be hurting anyone. I've got a plan."

************

Spike eyed the mercenary warlock warily. He hated magic, it usually came with nasty consequences, but there were times when it was unavoidably useful.

"So, we're clear and you can do it?" he repeated to the man.

The diminutive, robed man bore an unfortunate resemblance to a weasel, his features sharp and his body whippet thin. "I can do it," he snapped. "Just the two of you. That's all I can manage."

"Two of us'll be fine," Spike replied. "Get to it then."

"I need the other," the warlock said impatiently.

"Dru, baby, could you come out here?" Spike called and Drusilla appeared, floating ethereally across the factory floor in her long gown.

"Spike?" she asked, eyes large, taking in the Slayer at the center of the circle in the middle of the floor.

He drew her in close to him and inside the circle with the Slayer. "We need to do a little spell, keep the nasty Slayer from doing anything rash when she wakes up."

Dru stood trustingly in his arms, clinging to him weakly. "We could just kill her."

He raised her chin with a finger. "Now, pet, I've explained that. She's bait for Angelus. We need him to get you well and we both know he's not likely to be a willing participant otherwise. This is just insurance. Works out right, we'll get you well and still dine on Slayer blood."

Spike nodded at the warlock. "Let's get this thing started."

The warlock brought out a bowl and dagger. He brought the knife closer to Drusilla and Spike growled. "A little blood is needed. You may do it if you like." He handed the dagger to Spike.

Spike drew the dagger lovingly across his beloved's wrist, allowing the blood to flow into the bowl. Then he licked the wound closed and applied the blade to himself.

"The girl, too."

Spike grabbed one of Buffy's limp wrists and made a similar cut, mingling her blood with theirs.

The warlock cast more unidentifiable ingredients into the bowl of blood, warmed it over a candle and said a few phrases in a language Spike didn't recognize. He painted a symbol on each of their foreheads and stepped back out of the circle before speaking a final incantation.

"It is done."

Spike looked skeptical. "That's it? No flash of light, no explosions, nothing glowing…that's all there is to it?"

"Yes. It's a relatively simple spell, but taxing to me." The warlock did indeed look drained and weakened.

"Well, if it's all the same to you, I think we'll be putting you up another evening until the little girl wakes up and we can see if the mojo worked, yeah?" Spike loosed Drusilla and walked over to the man.

"I've done my job!" the man said sharply. "I want the money I was promised and I'm leaving."

"I think you're staying a bit, mate," Spike countered, shaking his finger at him warningly. "Ah, ah, ah…none o' that-" He grabbed the man's wrist as he reached for his bag of supplies. "You're too weak to leave anyway, right? You'll be needing a lie down. Dru will show you to a nice room." He nudged the man in Dru's direction. "Don't eat him, luv," he added absently, reliable warlocks were hard to find. If the man had done as promised, he'd be good to call upon again for future deals. Spike knew he wouldn't be able to contain him long, but it would be long enough to confirm the spell's effectiveness at least, while the magic user was so weak.

After they left, Spike leaned over the motionless body of the Slayer. He'd have thought she slept; she was so still and peaceful, her heartbeat thumping a slow, steady rhythm in his ears. He drew a finger down her smooth cheek. 'So young and soft and yet so deadly,' he thought and he wondered at the strange tremor of excitement that raced through him when he touched her. 'Slayers. Always did have a thing for them.'

He regretted that he wouldn't be able to kill this one in a fair fight. Not for the fairness of it, but for missing the thrill of besting her the proper way. He'd have another notch on his belt, but it wouldn't be nearly as satisfying. His pride still smarted from his tactical retreat on Halloween. He'd had her beneath him, trembling and helpless, and had for some unknown reason hesitated...hesitated long enough that whatever spell she was under had broken and the chance to bite her had slipped through his fingers. He still didn't know why he hadn't bitten her immediately. Wasn't that he hadn't had the time; he'd made quick work of many over the last century. He'd convinced himself that he was merely savoring the moment before he dined, ignoring the uneasy feeling that that wasn't entirely the truth.

Something about the strong slayer, lying there, cringing and helpless had bothered him.

The only good thing about that night was that he'd noticed his grandsire's panicked reaction to Buffy's deadly situation. Noticed and filed it away for future use. 'The future is now,' he thought smugly.

He shrugged. 'Oh well, good thing about Slayers. There's always the next one.' Smiling, he picked up the tiny body. 'Come luv, let me show you to your new home.'

*************

Buffy woke groggy. She put a hand to her head. 'Ow.' She winced as she encountered the tender spot and bloody matted hair and fought to remember where she was. Wherever it was, it was pretty dark. Her neck was tingling. 'Vamps nearby. Lots of them.'

'Oh GOD, am I a vamp?" She felt her face anxiously and then, more sensibly, put her fingers to her pulse. 'No. Ok. No…' She lay back again, relieved. Then things filtered back to her.

"Ford…" she said softly, recalling more. "Oh... those people." She closed her eyes again, feeling horrible that she'd failed them. Even stupid people didn't deserve to be vamp food. She sighed and opened her eyes again. Sitting up…was a bad idea, she discovered. 'Woozy. Ugh.' She felt the nausea rise up from the pit of her stomach. 'Lightheaded and weak,' she thought. 'Wonder how long I've been out. Wonder WHERE I've been out.' She looked around, moving her head slowly and cautiously. It seemed to be ok if she avoided any sudden movements.

'Ok, cages…never of the good.' She was in a round cage about twelve feet in diameter. She looked up and what she saw gave her the wiggins. 'Ok, I'm in a huge birdcage. Or the cage is normal and I'm small.' She'd learned to expect anything on the Hellmouth. The top of the cage indeed did curve to a point, and a bar had been suspended in the middle. 'Great. Kidnapped by crazy people. This just gets better every second.' She frowned and wrestled herself up to her feet. 'Ok, standing is of the good.' She encouraged herself. 'Just have to take a look around and hang in there until someone comes to help. I'm sure they're looking by now. I just have to-' she refrained from using the phrase 'hang in there' again as her eyes again landed on the bizarre trapeze or whatever it was in the cage.

She made her way to the bars and tested them. Granted, she was incredibly weak, but these bars still seemed pretty solid. So did the small door in the side, bolted firmly shut and padlocked. 'Iron,' she thought idly. 'Huh, you'd think I'd rate a cute, gilt cage, but noooo.' She rolled her eyes at herself, 'Yeah, that's it, losing your mind's certainly the best way to go here.' She reached for the padlock and twisted it, testing the strength. Well, she wasn't going anywhere, certainly not in this condition.

As far as she could tell in the dim light, she and the swing thing were the only things in the round cage. The larger room that contained it was devoid of people and dark. The only source of light came from the hall, where the door was slightly ajar. She looked longingly at the open door, sighed again and sat down to wait for her captors.

*************

Drusilla glided into the room. "Pretty bird, are you awake yet, pretty bird?"

Spike trailed behind her holding a lit candelabrum he hadn't trusted Dru to carry. He set it on the ground, where it provided a little more light, though it flickered, casting wild shadows on the walls.

Buffy glared at him. "So your little deal seems to have worked," she spat. "What's wrong, Spikey, couldn't catch me yourself, so you needed to cheat?" She stretched slightly, testing her muscles and finding that fortunately she’d regained some strength when she’d involuntarily fallen asleep again from sheer boredom. 'Yay for Slayer healing,' she thought grimly.

He shrugged unashamedly, grinning. "Can't blame a bloke for taking a new tack, luv, can you? After all, it is difficult to get you to play fair as well, yeah? All those friends and family hanging about…mucking up my plans."

"What I can't figure out though, is why I'm still alive. What is it, Spike," Buffy continued, "some ritual you need a live slayer to perform? Selling me to some demon in exchange for something? What possible evil plan could involve me still breathing?"

Spike laughed. "Sorry, pet. You're not the central component of this little get-together. This time, you're just bait. I realize that's disappointing news for you in that universe you're the center of, but you'll have to cope for now. You're meant for a trap for a very special old acquaintance of ours…"

"Angel…" Buffy whispered, horrified, as simultaneously, Dru said solemnly, "Daddy."

Spike was pleased to hear Buffy unintentionally confirm the conclusion he'd reached about Angel's feelings about the blond slayer. Her mind had immediately leaped to his grandsire when he'd told her she was bait. This boded well for his plan's success.

Buffy shot the vampiress an irritated glance. "First, Spike, if someone had to guess who had the recent head injury, I don't think they'd be picking me. She looks completely out of it." She snorted.

"Second," Buffy snarled, "Don't call me pet. I'm not your pet. You may have me in this cage, but I'm NOT YOUR PET. You'll be finding that out soon, when I stake you." Grabbing one of the cage bars, she rose to her feet, trying to hide how much effort was required in the act of doing so.

Spike merely laughed again, but Drusilla drew near the cage. "Swing for me, my pretty pet. Or sing," she added wistfully, "you could sing like a proper bird. That would be nice. Sing, pretty," she said encouragingly.

"How about," Buffy leaned closer to the bars, "I sing a rousing chorus of stake, stake, stake the psycho!" Drusilla hissed and drew back.

Spike rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Not one for a witty comeback, are you Slayer?"

"You will sing." Drusilla stamped her foot fretfully. "I'll make you sing." Then she stared at Buffy, crooning, "Be in me. Be in me…"

Buffy raised her eyebrows and gave her a disbelieving look. "Yes, let me just sing you a looney tune." She looked at Spike, "That better? Oh wait, maybe that's too recent a thing for you to get. A recent thing for the living…who grew up in this century…watching tv. Do dead things watch cartoons?" She pretended to ponder this.

Spike smothered his astonishment at the thrall's failure to take hold. 'Maybe it's a Slayer thing. Immunity of some sort. Good to know,' he thought then took in Dru who was shrieking and lunging for the cage door. "No, princess, not yet." He caught her around the waist and swung her gently in the direction of the door, setting her down and giving her a nudge in its direction. "Not just yet."

"I don't like her, Spike," Drusilla complained. "She's not a good bird at all, won't sing, won't swing, won't obey…nasty, nasty thing." She looked as though she might spring for the cage again, so Spike administered another little push in the direction he wanted her to go.

"Hush," he murmured in her ear, "Calm down, sweet and go play with your other new toy. You'll have her for tea, just not today."

Drusilla pouted. "She's so naughty; Miss Edith doesn't even want her to come to tea."

Buffy somehow thought this was a good thing. She watched as Spike ushered the mad vampiress to the door.

Drusilla clutched at him at the doorway and begged again, "Kill her Spike. Kill her now. It's not a trilling birdsong we'll hear from her but a dirge for everything we know…kill her…"

"Soon," he soothed her, stroking her hair gently. Whimpering, she finally left the room.

"New toy..." Buffy said softly, having heard despite his low tone, "Oh God, those poor people." Her face crumpled as she fought back tears. "They're all dead, aren't they?"

"Yeah, well." Spike shrugged. "Food you know. Vamp's gotta eat." He stared at her, momentarily fascinated, despite himself. "One of those poor people gave you to me, Slayer. You wouldn't be here without his help, well, possibly not yet anyway," he amended. "I'm sure I would've thought of something."

Buffy didn't answer; her eyes on the concrete floor.

"Now," Spike lit a cigarette and waved it about theatrically, "let's see, what haven't we covered yet. You're," he pointed at her, "bait. You're here for now until your boyfriend," he rolled his eyes and said the word with utmost contempt, "receives my message and arrives, assuming he's willing to trade himself." He tapped a finger against his jaw, thinking, "Always a risk, not been very selfless in the past, but-" he shrugged, "really it's a no lose situation. I get him, Dru gets cured. He fails to show, we see if Slayer blood will do the trick. Can't hurt to try it anyway." He said cheerfully. "Oh," he snapped his fingers, "there's just one more thing." He dropped the newly lit cigarette and crushed it under his boot. Walking over to the cage, he drew a key from his jeans pocket and unlocked the padlock, stepping inside.

Buffy lunged at him. She wasn't at full strength, was still horribly weak in fact, but she had to have enough to- she yelped in surprise as, at the last moment, her body twisted and she fell harmlessly in a tangled heap to one side of him.

Spike said gleefully, "Yeah, that's the thing, pet. You can't hurt us." He wisely kept the fact that the binding spell was limited to Dru and himself quiet. The warlock had done good work, with the spell and the cage he'd summoned up. "You also can't go more than a hundred feet or so from me or Dru. Did a little spell, you see." He laughed and fought the urge to dodge as she leaped at him again. As before, she landed harmlessly on the floor. 'This is fun,' he thought.

"DON'T CALL ME PET!" Buffy yelled in frustration.

He crouched so that he was at eye level with her. "What should I call you then? Goldilocks?" He reached one black nailed finger out and stroked it down her hair staring into the green eyes shining with tears of frustration.

She drew back and let fly a punch at his nose, her face falling as the punch just halted, an inch from its target. She glared at him again, but he noted with satisfaction, that this time her eyes held fear too.

He patted her head indulgently. "So we don't really need the cage. You won't be going anywhere or hurting anyone." He walked out and closed and locked the door again, shrugging. "Cage is just for fun." He smirked at her and left her alone.

***

Spike appeared in the doorway of the warlock's room. "You can go." He waved a hand at the weakened man. "You've held up your end of the deal. Here's mine." He tossed a stack of bills at the man. "No need to count it, it's all there. Pleasure doing business with you."

The little man grabbed at the cash and his bag and didn't hesitate to move quickly out of the room. His relief was palpable. The page had been torn and dirty in spots and he hadn't been entirely sure of those missing words in the text of the incantation and the resulting effect on the spell. His substitution had done the trick, however.

***
End Note: This fic is finished and I'll be posting the rest as soon as I edit it. I had to post in a hurry to make the deadline for my day at seasonal spuffy so it was more than a little rough around the edges. Also, I haven't abandoned ERB. I just got horrible writer's block and horrendously busy. I hope to get back to it soon as my schedule will be considerably lighter shortly!
Chapter Two by jnharrow
Angel pounded on the watcher's door.

Giles opened it, bleary-eyed and half asleep. "Angel. What on earth are you doing here at this hour?"

"It's Buffy." Angel said urgently.

The sleepiness cleared instantly and Giles said anxiously, "Buffy? What's wrong with Buffy? You'd better come in, I suppose, it's getting close to dawn." He swung the door open allow the agitated vampire to enter.

"I got this note off a vampire I dusted. He must've been sent to me, he was waving it like a white flag." Angel handed it to Giles.

Peaches,

Got the girl. You know the one, nummy little blond treat. She does look tasty. Is she? Maybe I'll find out.

She's alive. If you want her back, you'll come alone to the address below tomorrow night at sunset and wait for my minion. Dru needs sire's blood and you and I are going to do a little exchange. When it's done, Dru and I are gone and you can have your Slayer.

-Spike


Giles paled and demanded angrily, "How did this happen?"

"I don't know.” Angel shook his head. “Has to be something to do with that Ford friend of Buffy's. He isn’t what he seems.”

Giles pondered the situation silently for a minute, "Do you believe him? Could Buffy be unhurt?"

Angel nodded, knowing Ford wasn’t the ‘him’ Giles was referring to. "Spike wants my blood for Dru. I can only guess that he knows I wouldn’t give it without some… incentive. Buffy's safe until tomorrow, until I see her."

"So you will go through with the trade?"

"It's the only thing I think we can do. We don't know where they're holding her and I don't have enough time before dawn to search. Dru might've led me there, I could persuade her, but there isn't enough time…" Angel sat on the couch, head in his hands. "It's the only thing we can do. Buffy will be ok until tomorrow," he repeated, as though trying to reassure himself.

"We could follow you. There's no assurance you'll both be allowed to depart safely after you've given him what he wants," Giles said.

"No. You can’t. Spike's not stupid. That's why he didn't send their location. He'll have minions ensuring no one follows. It's not safe for anyone if you follow." Angel sighed. "He's after me. He took her because of me. I'll get her out." He looked up at the concerned watcher and said again, "I'll get her out."

***

Spike was humming. Everything was coming together perfectly. His minion hadn't returned, but he hadn't expected him to. That just meant he’d met up with Angelus as planned. Tonight everything would be fixed and he and Dru could leave this hole of a town and head to somewhere more fun. 'Somewhere warm, maybe, south, to a beach.’ The warm, golden tanned meals would dance right into their waiting arms. After the gourmet slayer meal he had planned for this evening was over, of course. 'Not right to waste that,' he thought happily.

He opened the slayer's door. "Oh, Slayer!" he shouted cheerily. "Wakey, wakey, kitten. Show's about to start. Wouldn't want you to miss anything."

Buffy raised her head wearily. She'd finally dropped off to sleep again, forcing herself to get the rest she needed for her accelerated healing to work properly. She turned her head back and forth cautiously. 'Much better,' she thought. No nausea resulted from the action and she was feeling more like herself.

The sight of a cheerful Spike was almost enough to bring it back again, though. 'He’s practically skipping," she thought, disgusted.

Spike approached the cage and shifting the bundle he carried under his arm, he unlocked the door. "Why so glum, lamb? After this is over, you'll be on your merry way, twirling those little wooden toys you like to play with. All back to normal."

She shot him a disbelieving look. "You don't think I'm falling for that, do you? You'll never let me go," she said, turning her head away from him.

"Deal's a deal, luv. We'll be leaving after this, so no harm to us in letting you go. You can walk off with your brooding boy-"

"Please Spike, you told me about the spell. Can't go very far from you?" She snorted. "Besides, you told Dru she could have me for tea later, but not yet. I tend to remember things that involve me dying. Can't even keep what you told me straight, can you?"

Spike feigned hurt as he stepped inside the cage. "Now, now, spells can be cancelled, can't they? Things change. I’ve made a deal with Angelus. You'll be a free little bird in no time.” He threw the bundle of clothing at her. "Wouldn't want Peaches to think you haven't had a nice stay. We do need his cooperation, after all. Time to get all cleaned up and pretty. Make sure he's happy with what he gets out of this, yeah?"

Making no attempt to catch the clothes, Buffy said acidly, "Oh right, Spike. I'm just going to strip off and change into what, some of the wacko's clothes? Right in front of you. Dream on."

He put his hands up, in the classic gesture used to convey no harm was intended and wrinkled his nose, "Just thought you might want to wash up. You smell a bit…ripe."

Buffy's eyes went round and she pouted. "Let's see how you'd look being locked up and… On second thought, no, let's see how you'd look as nice dust particles floating gently in the breeze. That sounds much better."

'Lovely lips, she's got,' Spike thought idly then shook his head, driving the irrelevant thought away. "Do you want a bath or not?" he asked, more harshly than intended. His musing on slayer lips had successfully jarred him out of the cheerfulness.

Buffy hesitated, then grabbed the clothes and stood up. "Fine." 'It always feels better to be clean and I do need a bathroom desperately. I'll fight better if I feel better," she rationalized.

"After you, Slayer." Spike held the door open wide for her.

***

Buffy exited the stall with a sigh of relief. Spike had led her to one of the factory bathrooms. It was dingy and dirty, but fortunately, the plumbing still worked. She couldn't help eyeing the steaming water in the claw footed tub in front of her greedily. They must've dragged it in here for their own use. Looking around the empty room, she thought longingly that it really would feel so good to clean some of the dirt off. He'd unexpectedly left her alone, after all. 'Not like I can leave, small risk for him.' She had no doubt he wouldn't have done so if there was a way to escape. Still, she tested the door. It was locked from the outside.

Wandering back to the tub, she wondered, 'What kind of weird vamps take bubble baths, anyway? It's probably some weird bubbly potion stuff that'll do horrible things to me.' She sighed. Fingering a greasy strand of hair she made up her mind.

***

Spike turned on the television and tuned in to the camera he wanted. He always had liked to watch Dru bathe. He'd had the cameras installed throughout the factory as a precaution when they'd arrived. Never hurt to be careful. He'd set up the room down the hall from his bedroom as a viewing station and only unlocked it for the vamps on sentry shifts, activating the cameras he wanted them to monitor. He hadn't survived over a century being careless and didn’t want anyone spying on HIM.

He was particularly glad he'd added the cameras now. How often did you get to see a naked slayer, anyway? He rationalized to himself. Why not, since he could. What good was being immortal if you couldn't have new experiences? Get boring, otherwise. ‘Not like Dru would care,’ he thought bitterly. She was off babbling to her dolls, excited about the party to come and had paid scant attention to him when he'd checked on her. Excited to see her "Daddy", he thought grimly. Well, it would all be over with soon and he'd have her full attention.

He settled back in the chair in front of the set and waited, would've held his breath had he had a need to breathe. Would she take the bait? He watched her try the door, 'Yeah, right, spell or no, like I'd leave a Slayer on the loose. Can't let you find out about the loophole, now, can I? You’d be dusting my minions left and right.' He caught the sheer hunger in her face as she stared at the tub where frothy bubbles floated invitingly on the surface. That stuff he'd bought to soothe Dru during her bad turns was coming in handy. "That's it, Slayer, doesn't it look good? All nice and warm and-" he crooned aloud encouragingly to her, grinning as he saw her suddenly whip her top over her head.

She stripped quickly and lowered herself into the water, grabbing the soap and shampoo he'd left out. She wasn't fast enough that Spike didn't get a good view of her however. The effect of the brief glimpse of her slender but well formed body was immediately evident to the vamp, however, and he groaned. 'All of that power in such a fragile, small, golden package,' he thought and unbidden, a word rose to his mind from his past, 'Effulgent.' He froze and shook off the attack of ponciness, leaning forward to watch the bubbly water lap at her young breasts. The small waves created by her movements attracted his gaze, revealing, then concealing again, 'Lovely.' He could see what had attracted his grandsire to this girl. She raised her arms to soap her hair and for a moment he was transfixed by the image before him, his classical education from long ago taking over his thoughts. What a beautiful subject for a sculpture or painting she'd make in that pose.

His hand slid off the arm of the chair and headed almost involuntarily for his jeans. He realized what he was doing and paused, then thought, 'Why not? I'm evil, aren't I? Can't an evil guy have a little fun?' He allowed himself the silent admission that this Slayer had appealed to him from the first moment he'd seen her. Subsequent sightings of her in action as she fought had intensified his fascination. Dru's earlier chattering about Angel filled his mind again and he reached for the top button.

She swept her soaked hair off of her neck and he was lost, thinking of sinking his fangs into the unmarked skin. She had fang marks on the other side, he noticed, and wondered if his soul laden grandsire wasn't entirely the washed up git he seemed. A flash of jealousy coursed through him at this and he boggled at it, thoroughly surprised. He only wished he was the first to taste her was all, he reassured himself. So she wasn't pristine, she'd still taste sweet. He'd find out tonight. The thought excited him more and his hand moved faster.

She washed up fast, moving the cloth efficiently over the rest of her body, not daring to relax into the soothing water in the den of her enemies. When she rose out of the tub, the water streaming off of her, smooth skin slick and dripping it was enough for Spike and he finished himself, smothering a cry, aware of Dru down the hall.

'Bloody hell,' Spike thought, momentarily dazed. 'Maybe I'll turn her.' The thought was unexpected and unwelcome in its faithlessness and he rolled his eyes at himself. 'Dru's been sick too long is all.'

Buffy dried her body in haste and rubbed the towel vigorously over her wet hair, running her fingers through it to smooth it as best she could. Spike caught the look of horror on her face as she picked up the dress he'd given her. She said something, but he hadn't wired the place for sound, so he couldn't make it out. The expression was unmistakable however, a teenager being forced to wear clothes not of her own choosing. Still talking to herself, she shook it out nonetheless, and pulled it over her head.

Spike momentarily regretted giving her the clothing, thinking he could've enjoyed the view longer had he left her with nothing. He could've left her there, clad only in a towel, waiting for him. He felt himself harden again at the thought. But she would've put her old clothes back on rather than go nude, he reasoned, and she did look stunning, though the dress was a bit too long. Besides, playtime was over.

***

Buffy was relieved that Spike hadn't returned mid-bath. She'd balked at the dress when she saw it. "Stupid, fashion-challenged walking relic," she muttered in disgust. Long and gauzy, the pale green dress clung to her curves as she moved. "Gonna be hard to fight in this. Guess Spike fights all her battles for her." This thought increased the dislike she had for Drusilla for some reason. "My inner feminist, I guess." She shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite the door to wait.


***

Spike gave her a good quarter hour before he arrived to let her out. Wouldn't do to make her suspicious she'd been spied upon. The key to this evening's plans was to keep her as docile and compliant as possible until he could get her properly restrained. At least he knew she believed the spell worked, she'd been startlingly cooperative since her original bout of feistiness. He snorted at the thought of the girl beside him being docile, though. The bath had done wonders for her. She strode beside him as best she could in the too long dress, defiance plain in every line of her body.

He found his eyes lingering on the spots the dress showed off so beautifully when she was in motion then pointedly tore his gaze off of her. ‘Head in the game, Spike. No distractions.’

***

For appearances' sake, he chained the Slayer to the wall of the room he'd chosen. Then, smirking slightly, he gagged her with a silk scarf. "Can't have you too chatty." He patted her on her now drying golden head. He didn't want the Slayer mentioning the spell to Angelus before he'd done what he needed to do for Dru.

She glared at him, eyes conveying what she couldn't with words.

He paused, leaning over her, inhaling. "Muuuuch better, Slayer," he purred in her ear. "Smell just…edible." She did. Impulsively, he dipped his head to her exposed neck and licked it tenderly in a line from her collarbone to just below her ear. Buffy tried to pull away, but his other hand held her head still. "Yeah. Taste delicious too." He stared into her clear green eyes, now wild with fury and…was that confusion? Was the little Slayer untouched? His grin got wider. If only she knew what she'd unknowingly assisted him with earlier. Looked like the poofy one hadn't fallen that far off the decency wagon after all. ‘Interesting.’ He placed a deliberate, mock affectionate kiss on her temple and pulled away.

"Now, I'll just get Dru and then we haven't long to wait."
Chapter Three by jnharrow
Author's Notes:
A huge thank you to Always_jbj who was nice enough to beta this for me and wrestle some particularly uncooperative sentences into submission for me.
"Angelus!" Spike crowed in greeting at Angel's arrival.

"Spike," Angel ground out, cautiously entering the main room of the factory.

"Daddy!" Drusilla clapped her hands and rushed to greet her sire, nuzzling her face into his chest, hands caressing his shoulders. "You're here. You'll make everything all right again, won't you?" She stared up at him, mad blue eyes as trusting as a child's, slender white hands touching him, constantly in motion as though by this she could convince herself of the reality of his presence.

Angel closed his eyes. Encounters with his insane childe always wracked him with guilt. "Yes, Dru," he said finally. "I'll make you better."

"Can you stop the little bird though, Daddy? Can you stop her?" Dru switched from pleased greeting to agitation. "Please, you must. The pixies have told me you'll—"

"Dru!" Angel interrupted her, shaking her gently to silence. He stared evenly at Spike. "Where is she?" he demanded. "I want proof she's alive and unharmed."

Spike kept his feelings from showing on his face with great difficulty. ‘A century of devotion and she's back in his arms in a heartbeat.’ His dead heart had no need to beat, but he could feel it breaking, useless organ. He'd known she would fawn over Angelus, but to see it was…a different thing altogether. In that nonexistent heartbeat, he was dragged back into the bitter memories of encounters past and their inevitable outcomes.

His century with Dru didn't matter, he realized, she would always belong to Angelus. Her betrayal stabbed at him viciously and he knew that deep inside, after all this time, he had expected things to be different. For the first time since Angelus had deserted them, Spike looked at his love with critical eyes and found her lacking. Something hardened inside of him, and in a moment of clarity the vision of the dark princess he had spent years worshiping faded. In her place the reality of a damaged, unstable, unfaithful, and——his mind raged—— ungrateful creature stood before him.
'She won't ever love me.' His jaw tightened.

"Spike!" Angel's harsh voice shot Spike out of his epiphany.

"This way," Spike said shortly and led the way down the hall.

***

"There she is." Still terse, Spike waved an arm at the bound Slayer. "Good enough for you? All alive and un-tasted."

Angel stared at Buffy and felt an incredible wave of relief wash over him. She was alive. Alive and unharmed, but very angry, he noted with amusement. Nothing could break Buffy's spirit. She wasn't lying drained and dead because of him. He gazed into her eyes, trying to convey the silent message that everything would work out.

The tight anxiety—fed by the thought that he'd been the cause of her downfall when he was meant to be her savior—that had been weighing him down over the course of what seemed the longest day of his existence, had magically disappeared All would be well now. He could take Spike if he tried to renege on the deal and Drusilla would never fight her daddy, he was confident of that. In fact she'd likely help him if he was too weakened by the blood loss. He had decades of experience manipulating Dru into doing what he wanted and she wouldn't let Spike harm him. Spike had locked the door to prevent the minions from interrupting so they could be easily dealt with afterwards. Everything would be fine.

"Let's get this done," Spike said abruptly. He'd finish the cure, knock Dru out to prevent any interference and take care of Angelus for good. At least he'd still have the Slayer's blood to console him. He'd figure out what to do about Dru later. A small but insistent voice in his head was now asking why he really wanted her at all now.

Angel nodded and spoke to the still-clinging vampire in his arms, "It's ok, Dru. Drink." He tilted his head to the side and allowed his childe to sink her fangs into his neck.

***

Buffy closed her eyes. It looked so…intimate. She opened them again almost immediately, chiding herself, she needed to see what was happening if they were to get through this. The sight of her boyfriend's hands beginning to roam over the slender vampire's back, involuntarily caressing her as he lost himself in the bite, made her rapidly avert her eyes again.

This time they landed on Spike, and Buffy couldn't look away. Spike's face, completely unguarded, stripped of his usual defenses as he watched the love of his unlife with the love of hers. Everything he felt was revealed. Buffy saw the fierce hurt surface in his bright blue eyes and split seconds behind it, the rage and betrayal. His mouth was tight-lipped, but his eyes screamed out his emotions for any onlooker to see. The pair he was focused on was oblivious, but Buffy saw.

He felt. This vampire —this soulless thing —could feel. She knew it couldn't be true, but the look on his face was undeniable.

She'd only known Angel for a short time and she found it hard to watch him with Drusilla. How would it feel to watch someone with whom you'd spent so long, in the arms of someone else? Someone she clearly loved so strongly. Buffy realized she'd just attributed feelings to yet another vampire. ‘Drusilla obviously loves Angel. There’s no denying that either,’ Buffy thought, as she turned back to them again.

‘What I was taught is wrong.’ Her mind reeled. ‘They must've told me that to prevent me from thinking of vampires as people,’ she thought slowly. ‘It'd be harder to stake…people.’ She mentally slapped herself. 'Not people! Vampires! They are not people! Nasty, pointy, bitey ones! Never people!'

But she looked over at Spike again and she saw a person… a person in a tremendous amount of pain. She felt a strange stirring of pity for the stricken vampire. 'What the hell?' she thought, confused. 'This is Spike. Evil, cruel, bloodthirsty vampire! Spike! Who’s killed lots of people. Last night, even. I can't feel sorry for Spike!' But she did. She truly did.

Then Spike looked away from the entwined couple, unable to watch anymore and his eyes met hers.

***

Spike couldn't watch. If his heart hadn't broken earlier, it would surely be in pieces now. He knew well how seductive and sensuous a bite could be if the right intent was there. Any residual illusions he'd had clinging to the corners of his mind melted away and left him with the truth. His earlier train of thought was correct. Drusilla was still deeply, madly in love with her Angelus. After a few minutes, he couldn't watch.

The Slayer was staring at him. She couldn't speak, he'd made sure of that, but her eyes conveyed volumes. He saw in an instant her pity for him and her own hurt. Rage filled him as he tried to erect a wall of cold indifference to the happenings around him. He failed miserably. Infuriated that there had been a witness to his pain, he stalked towards the helpless Slayer.

He saw a flash of fearfulness enter those damnable pitying eyes and was slightly mollified. 'Yeah, that's right. You should fear me. You should—' He was still looking at her when, behind him, Angel collapsed to the floor with a dull thud, slipping from Drusilla's embrace.

Drusilla wailed, "I didn't hurt him. I didn't. I only took a little." She knelt beside Angel and in one of her lightning fast mood changes, a dreamy, satisfied look came over her. "Enough, though. I took enough." She spared a glance at Spike. "I'm all better now, my prince!" she said gleefully then pouted. "Help me help Daddy. Something's happened." She looked at Angel uncertainly. “Something's happened,” she repeated.

"Something's gonna happen all right," Spike muttered. Buffy caught his tone and began to make muffled noises of distress knowing what Spike was going to do.

But as Spike reached them, Angel stirred. He looked into Drusilla's eyes and smirked. She clapped her hands again and cried, "Daddy's truly home! They told me you'd return, but not how…not how…"

"That's right, darlin'." Angelus stood. "Daddy's home!"
Chapter Four by jnharrow
Author's Notes:
A/N - in case you're wondering, Angel lost his soul when he saw that Buffy was unharmed. Or rather, that's when he had his moment of happiness. In the show, the soul loss was a bit delayed, so it was here as well, though perhaps took a little less time than in the show.

Beta'd by Always_jbj. Thank you! :)
Spike froze in his tracks, his mind racing as he stared at Angelus.

Angelus grinned at him. "What, boy? Seen a ghost? Not happy to see me?" He walked a couple paces and clapped Spike on the back. "Don't worry. It'll be just like old times," he said maliciously.

Angelus' eyes rested on Buffy. "Such a nice welcome home gift too, boy. You shouldn't have." He laughed. "No, strike that, you should have. After all, I've never tasted Slayer blood before. Something we'll have to remedy, won't we?" He walked over to Buffy and ran his hands roughly down her body, leering at her.

Spike saw the sheer horror and incomprehension in Buffy's eyes. It was obvious she didn't know what had occurred. Spike wasn't sure that he knew what had occurred either. But Angelus was back.

Angelus removed the gag. "We'll just get rid of this, won't we? After all, I haven't heard you tell me you love me yet today. Why don't you, Buff? Tell me how much you love me."

***

Buffy knew something was horribly wrong with Angel, but she couldn't understand. She went over the events in her mind. His soft, loving brown eyes had stared into hers, then he was bitten by the goth skank, then he collapsed and now he was staring at her with anything but love in his eyes. She wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't love.

"Angel?" she whispered.

"No, lover." He trailed one finger down the side of her face. "Angelus. We've yet to meet, really. But we're going to have a very good time. I promise you that."

"Angel, what are you talking about?" Tears welled in Buffy's eyes. "Why are you acting like this? You're scaring me…" she finished softly.

He shrugged. "That works for me too." He turned back to Spike and Drusilla.

Walking up behind Dru, he embraced her then produced a stake from his jacket. "You know, you've been a little too nutty for a little too long, Dru. It's getting on my nerves." He grinned at Spike and drew his arm back as if he were going to stake her. Dru remained passively still in his arms, unafraid. Spike, however, leaped at them. His instinctive reaction to protect Drusilla outweighed his earlier thoughts about her lack of loyalty. He went for the arm with the stake and Angelus brought the other around with a sharp knife, embedding it in Spike's chest.

The blow sent Spike to the ground, and though it wasn't fatal, it kept him down long enough for Angelus to push Dru away and savagely kick Spike in the ribs. Gleefully, he continued kicking the downed vamp, until Spike was battered and bleeding; unable to move. Angelus yanked his head up by the hair, "You think I don’t know what you were going to do, boy? I do. You should remember I'm always a step ahead of you." He yanked harder as Spike's eyelids drooped and he started to succumb to unconsciousness. "You should remember the consequences of going against me, too. But it looks like I'll have to remind you." He shook his head in mock sadness.

"You're so easy, Spike. Threaten Drusilla and all caution for yourself goes right out of that feeble brain of yours." Putting his arm around Drusilla again, he said, "I'd never stake my girl." Drusilla beamed at him. "You know, Drusilla and I have a little catching up to do before I deal with you two. You just think about that and I'll be back for both of you when we’re...finished." With that parting shot he went to the door and opened it for Drusilla before sauntering through himself and locking it from the outside.

Buffy was still in shock at the way Angel was behaving, but she blinked away her tears and looked at the beaten vampire on the floor below her in horror. Spike had been reduced to a mass of cuts and bruises. She could see that Angelus had been very thorough. The pool of blood on the floor from the original stab wound just kept growing bigger and bigger. 'How much blood can a vampire lose?' she wondered. 'Would it kill him to lose it all?' She half expected Spike to spontaneously burst into dust at any moment.

She bit her lip, anxiously. 'Ok, Buffy, think. Angel's gone crazy and you're chained up. Of the bad. Both things. Very bad.' She turned on "slayer mode" and refused to dwell on the change in Angel. She had to escape and then she could mope and mourn as much as needed. The fact that her friends had no idea what had happened and Angelus had access to some of their homes terrified her. ‘Oh God, and to mine…Mom…’ She panicked. She had to get free. 'Ok, so, locked in a room with an evil, possibly unconscious vamp I can’t defend myself against. Bad again. He could help himself to the Slayer blood bar anytime since he really has no reason to keep me alive now.' She frowned, knowing this wasn't getting her anywhere, and tried to think of a positive.

She couldn't. There was no way to free herself from the chains. She couldn't hurt Spike even if she could get free. She couldn't run away even if she could get free. 'Great.'

Then an insane thought crossed her mind. She saw again Spike's tortured, clear blue eyes as he watched Drusilla earlier and made a decision. She had nothing to lose. It was crazy, but waiting around for Angelus to return wasn’t a very good idea. At worst, she'd have a clean, quick death. She didn't know why, but she thought Spike would give her that, at least.

She thanked the Powers That Be when she spotted a sharp edge on the rusted metal bracket jutting out of the wall near her right wrist. 'Probably get tetanus.' She thought dryly, 'Oh right, won't live long enough to get tetanus. Here goes.' Holding her breath she slashed her wrist against the metal, wincing. Scarlet dripped from the wound and she tried to angle it better, attempting to pour it into the senseless vampire's mouth.

Frustrated, she was close to tears again when she realized she couldn't pull her wrist far enough out to get the blood to Spike. She'd just given up straining out further when Spike's eyes twitched and opened slightly. He inhaled deeply and achingly slowly edged towards the small puddle forming on the floor. Lapping at it, his head cleared enough to realize something was dripping on his head. When he saw her wrist dangling bleeding above him, he reached for the dregs of his strength and hauled himself up the wall, nearly crumpling to the floor again when he put weight on his left leg.

***

'Broken,' he thought sourly. 'Sodding great git.' Even the small amount of blood he'd ingested was helping though, and he came to his senses enough to understand what had happened.

Buffy met his curious gaze evenly. "Drink it before it closes. Drink it. I help you and you help me."

Understanding dawned on Spike and he stared at her briefly before he nodded and reached for his pocket. He saw Buffy's body slump a little in relief as he pulled out the key to her manacles. Fumbling with hands that were broken and not working properly, he cursed softly, but managed to get her wrist free. She then supported him and helped him reach her other arm.

Lowering him to the floor, she took the key from him to unlock her ankles.

When she’d done that, she paused a moment, studying him where he lay, eyes half closed with the effort he'd expended and then gashed her wrist again, re-opening the swiftly closing wound. "I need your help," she said calmly. Hoping she was doing the right thing, she knelt and held her wrist to his lips. "I can't take both of them."

Spike sighed and drank gratefully, feeling the powerful blood rushing through his body, healing him. He winced as bones began to knit. He'd known she'd taste sweet…and she did.

***

Buffy watched, partially disgusted and partially fascinated as Spike drew her blood from her body. The fascination came from witnessing the effect of her blood on him. She felt an odd sense of pride as the bruises faded before her eyes, leaving his skin smooth and unbroken. Without thinking, she reached her other hand out and drew her fingers across his sharp, unmarked cheekbone, tracing the spot that had, moments before been bashed, torn and bleeding. She was awed at the transformation.

He stopped drinking and looked at her. She noticed the blackened circles around his blue eyes had vanished then flushed under his gaze and looked away. They didn’t speak. He returned his attention to her wrist and resumed drinking.

She didn't feel what she'd seen between Angel and Drusilla. No overwhelming lust, no desire. She idly wondered if this was because Spike hadn't actually bitten her, or because it was her wrist, not her neck or if it was because there was nothing between them. She didn't know, but she was relieved. She hadn't been sure what to expect. Suddenly, she shivered, the delayed effects of the multiple shocks hitting her all at once.

Spike raised his head. "Am I hurting you?" His voice was low and rough and for some reason brought on another attack of the shivers.

"No," she said softly, but her face was pale and her voice trembled.

He licked the wound gently and lightly kissed her wrist before placing it in her lap. "Thanks, luv," he said, raising himself to a sitting position slowly.

"No, it's ok," she protested. "Do you need more? You need to be strong and we don't know when he's coming back."

Spike leaned wearily against the wall and let out a bitter chuckle. "If I know them, they won't be back soon." He turned to look at her and saw the anxiety on her face. "I took enough. Can feel it helping. I’ll be fine. Need you strong too."

Buffy shivered again and he pulled away from the wall, removing his duster. He draped it around her shoulders. "Shock," he said. "Along with the blood loss. If we had something for you to drink, you'd feel better faster, but we don't." He paused, thinking, evaluating. Dru and her daddy would be at it for hours. For the first time ever, he hoped it was a long session.

"C'mere," he said, reaching for her. She shrank away from him, alarmed. "Not going to hurt you," he said patiently. "You need to rest a bit, Slayer." He used the returning strength in his arms to draw her to his chest and pressed her head down to his shoulder. "Rest now. I'll keep watch."

Buffy didn't think it was possible to fall asleep in the arms of her enemy while waiting for her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend now, she corrected herself wearily—to come and possibly torture her to death, but oddly, as soon as Spike's arms closed around her, she felt safe and so, so very sleepy.

***

Spike cradled the sleeping slayer in his arms and couldn’t help but admire her bravery and brains. Here she was, in an unwinnable situation, torn apart by the betrayal of the wanker and instead of giving up she pulled herself together, formed a plan and took an immense risk to implement it. He hadn’t been sure she'd trust him enough to sleep, but she'd managed that as well. Committed to her plan, he supposed. He brushed a stray hair from her face. 'Remarkable bird, really.'

His thoughts turned dark as he contemplated what the great git most likely had planned for her and he found himself relieved that she'd done what she had. For some reason the thought of her bruised and broken body wasn't the pleasant thought it had been. She'd saved him as well, he thought. Angelus would've put him through many more beatings and worse before staking him had Buffy not offered her blood.

For that Spike would make sure she lived. He felt the rightness of his decision as he made the silent promise to her. 'You'll survive this, pet. I'll see to that.'

The sweet taste of her blood lingered on his tongue as he watched her sleep, a curious fondness for her forming inside him. He pondered the miraculous healing power of Slayer blood as he realized the stabbing pain in his heart was dulling too.

***

"Wake up, luv," Spike said gently but insistently. "I hear voices. I think they're coming. Speak softly or they’ll hear us too."

Buffy's eyes fluttered open and she raised her head, brain still muzzy with sleep. Becoming aware of her surroundings, she sat up, fear rushing through her as she remembered her situation. She eyed Spike warily. Shrugging off the duster, she nudged it in his direction.

"’S ok, luv. We're still on the same side," he said to her as he stood up and put it on. "Look, not much time now. Best get ready." He reached for the knife Angelus had left behind. "Too bad he took the stake with him." He frowned, handing her the knife. "Least it's something."

"What about you?" Buffy asked.

He morphed into game face, grinning at her. "I've already got mine." He shook it off. "No problem there. He pulled a dirty trick before. Won't fall for it again. I can take the poof."

Buffy looked down at the knife in her hands uncertainly. She noticed that her hands were shaking slightly. Angel was clearly evil, but she didn't know how she could dust him; even an evil him.

Spike saw it and steadied her hands with one of his, using the other to raise her chin and make her look at him. "I know. Feel the same way about Dru." He met her eyes. "But if it's us or them—which it is…" He trailed off meaningfully.

Buffy straightened. She pulled her hands from his grasp and brought the knife down suddenly. Spike flinched, even knowing that she couldn't hurt him, the sudden act had startled him.

But she wasn't attacking him; she was attacking the dress she wore, cutting the bottom of the fabric off at the knees and shoving the knife into his hands to hack the back. He did so and returned it to her.

"Better," Buffy said grimly and Spike knew she was ready.

Still, he tried to break through the mask of deadly calm that had come over her, teasing, "Too bad. Liked it on you. Much more ladylike than the scraps of nothing you usually wear."

She rolled her eyes at him and said, "Sooooo last century," then paused for effect, "Oh, like you. No wonder."

He grinned at her, but they both tensed as they heard footsteps outside the door. They took up positions on either side.
Chapter Five by jnharrow
Author's Notes:
I can't believe I didn't post this. I'm a horrible person. AlwaysJBJ had this returned to me ages ago and then even REMINDED me and I still didn't post it. I'm sorry. I've been entirely out of the spuffy loop. I have a bit of a sequel or epilogue written, but am unlikely to get to it before I finish my other WIP and I'm not going to start posting unfinished stuff anymore. It makes me feel rotten when I leave things hanging! Thank you AlwaysJBJ for fixing this; I appreciate your corrections and input.
Angelus strode through the door in an ebullient mood. He'd had some fun with Dru and now he could torture Spike with that, as well as finish his first evening back with a side of slayer.

They hit him simultaneously, bringing him to the floor and holding him there, Spike's knee in his back. Drusilla, trailing behind Angelus, shrieked and dove for the Slayer, sharp nails extended. She shrieked again in surprise when just before she made contact, she was thrown to the side.

Spike and Buffy looked at each other, puzzled; neither had touched her. Then it hit Spike. "Testing something, luv. Trust me," was all he had time to say before vamping and seemingly trying to sink his fangs into her shoulder.

Buffy's eyes widened in shock, but she couldn't move for fear of freeing Angelus. She waited for the pain, but felt nothing.

Spike grinned at her. "Stupid pillock botched the spell. She can't hurt you."

Comprehension dawned. The spell went both ways.

But Drusilla had come up behind them and she whispered angrily at Spike, "But I can hurt you, my traitorous knight," and raised the stake she now held.

For a split second, Buffy calculated. She saw the open door and thought that she might be able to run if the spell wasn't working right and likely live to take them on another day with reinforcements. She saw Angel beneath her, the man she was supposed to love. She saw Spike, the one who was helping her get out of this mess, which was ironically the mess he'd also gotten her into. She knew he’d been personally responsible for the deaths of all of the people at the club and that he was an evil, vicious killer the world would be better off without. She knew this.

Buffy brought the knife down, slashing across Angelus' neck, severing it completely and losing her balance as he turned to dust beneath her.

Spike was also jolted, but reacted quickly, leaping up and grabbing his former love by the arms, nullifying the stake. He looked into her eyes for a long moment before turning the stake back on her in one swift movement. Then he dropped it, letting it clatter to the floor. "Guess she was right. She could hurt me and vice versa. Wasn't sure how messed up the spell was." He fell to his knees, head in his hands.

Buffy got to her feet slowly and went over to him. Awkwardly, she rested her hand on his head and stroked his hair. She was still stunned at what she'd had to do to Angel, but Spike looked far worse. She knew what she’d done would haunt her later, but for now she had to function.

"Spike," she said urgently. "We should go. We don't know who else is out there or what they've been told. We need to go. If they’re yours, they can’t hurt me, right? But they could stake you…"

He raised reddened eyes to hers, tears still falling. "Go then." He saw she wasn't moving. "Go!" he said. "Get out. Go. Leave me be." Then what she’d said registered. “Wait. I lied before. Spell was for me and Dru. They can hurt you. But you should be able to sneak out. Still dark, most should be out,” he mumbled.

Buffy felt her own eyes well up, the force of his obvious grief and the strain of her own hitting her at once. "I can't go! Remember?" He looked at her, uncomprehending, "The spell! I can't go out of— what was it, one hundred feet or something, remember? Or was that a lie too?" she yelled at him when he remained sitting there. "Stupid vampire! Remember?” She pulled him up. "We'll go to Giles and he'll reverse it. But you have to come." She looked into his ravaged face and was perversely glad for the spell. She didn't think she could leave anyone alone looking as bereft as he did. For all she knew, if she left him, he'd run outside when the sun rose. 'And you care, why, Buffy?’ she asked herself. ‘One less killer then.' She told herself to shut up.

"You helped me," she said quietly. "Now, I'm going to help you." She tugged at his arm, looking back impatiently when he still didn't follow.

Spike stared hollowly at her. "You already helped me. We're even. Plus, I kidnapped you. So," he rubbed his hand through his hair wearily, "more than even."

Buffy huffed in frustration. "Whatever. You’re coming with me," she said firmly, tugging at him again.

Spike straightened. "Right. The spell. Need me for that." He started off.

This time it was Buffy who stopped him. "We'll see what Giles can do tomorrow night. For now, I meant it. I'll help you."

She couldn't take the look in his eyes anymore and she pulled him to her in a rough embrace, mumbling into his t-shirt, "Maybe I need help too, you know? I'm…" her voice wobbled, "not too great myself and I don't know where to begin explaining this whole thing to Giles. Tonight I don't even want to try. Not to mention still a little woozy from the blood loss,” she lied. “You’re the only one I can be with right now who already knows what happened tonight, and I don’t want to be alone. We can go somewhere and just…I don’t know…wait together until it hurts less.” More tears came, wetting his shirt.

"Why would you want to make me feel better, luv? Makes no sense."

Buffy couldn't explain that it had something to do with the way he'd looked at Angel and Dru and everything to do with how he'd acted towards her, Buffy, afterwards. "You didn't know you couldn't bite me."

Spike waited for her to continue. "Yeah, so?"

Buffy looked up at him as though he hadn't a brain in his head. "You didn't bite me."

Spike stared at her.

"You didn't try to bite me. I dripped all that yummy slayer blood all over you and when you woke up, you didn't just go all grr arrrgh and try to sink your fangs in for more, you let me go and took what I offered from my wrist." She faltered. "Look, I kinda thought it was curtains for Buffy when I did that. You were so hurt and well, vampire! But you didn't and you…well you stopped when you thought you were hurting me and…" She frowned at him. "I'm sure you had sneaky vampirey reasons for doing all that, but well, you didn't hurt me. You didn't know you couldn't and you still didn’t."

A hint of the old Spike flickered across his expressive features and he touched his tongue to his teeth, teasingly. "You sure you aren't just angling for a bit of cold comfort?" A faint smile even emerged when he got the predictable blush.

"Ewwww. NO! Pig," Buffy said, but she didn’t move. "I would slap you but I can't. Got to fix that," she muttered darkly, but stayed in the loose circle of his arms a minute longer before pulling away.

He walked with her, whispering, "But what if that's the sort of comfort I need?"

She threw her hands in the air and whispered back, "Shut up, Spike!"

She knew he was a murderer and once this fragile truce was ended, it would be her duty to stake him. She knew it was wrong on every level that she hadn’t staked him yet. She knew she had to figure out why she didn’t want to and why she did want to give him a good head start before she went after him. Most of all she knew she inexplicably needed him right now. She knew all of these things and she’d sort them out tomorrow. Maybe it was that weird—what was it? Stockholm Syndrome? Yeah, that was it. That uh, strange bonding with the kidnappers thing. She'd heard about it on a tv show once. That had to be it.

“You know, Angel got pig’s blood from the butcher,” she said after a few more steps, deliberately not looking at him and keeping her tone carefully neutral.

Spike was repulsed. “Bloody swill. Pun intended, Slayer. Don’t go getting any do-gooder notions about me. This was the one and only exception.”

“Oh yeah, the kidnapping was a really good deed, Spike. I got confused there for a minute…”

They continued to argue as he willingly followed her and they made their way into the night—together.

The End.

End Note: Ok, so this was originally supposed to be a long road fic (evolving from the unable to travel far from each other clause of the spell) where they slowly grew interested in each other and Spike gradually changed some of his evil ways but it would have been much longer and even the length that it is I just barely made it under the wire time-wise for Seasonal Spuffy. I didn't want to post an unfinished story or have something else I feel guilty about not updating! Hopefully, the new version still worked out ok, despite the rapid changes in attitude towards each other. I'm blaming the bonding in a stressful situation! That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Hope you enjoyed it.


This story archived at http://https://spikeluver.com/SpuffyRealm/viewstory.php?sid=28236