REDEMPTION


Summary and Prologue:


Disclaimer: I do not own Spike or Buffy. I am in no way affiliated with Mutant Enemy; Joss Whedon or BTVS/ATS. Oh…..that I were!


Summary:

Redemption is a mythological place supposedly located in Nebraska, USA, circa 1878. I’m choosing this name for the town, because it is a metaphor for the plot line involving Spike and Buffy later on.

Buffy Summers is the daughter of Hank and Joyce Summers, farmers, located near Redemption, Nebraska. Aged seventeen, Buffy is the oldest Summers’ child. She has a younger sister, Dawn, who is twelve at this time. There is a young brother, Hank Jr., who is seven years of age.

Hank and Joyce Summers are well respected, beloved members of the community and their daughter, Buffy, is betrothed to their neighboring farmer friend, Caleb Montgomery.

Although Caleb Montgomery is a well respected community member also, the man has a deep twisted inner personality. Buffy, her family and the naïve members of Redemption, NE, have no idea how dark and evil Caleb’s inner thoughts and fantasies really are.

At a local Church Social, in Redemption, one Sunday evening, Buffy’s world is totally turned upside down. Unknown to her, some strangers attending the ‘social’ will change her life, for reasons of their own, and make her see the world in a different light.

Spike and Angel are ‘outlaws’ so I guess you could say they are the villains in this story. Then again, maybe not really. Maybe the real villain is the debauched Caleb Montgomery?

Angel Crawford is Spike’s older American cousin and has his reasons for being the leader of an outlaw gang. Spike’s father, Rupert Giles is an outlaw in this one also, part of his nephew Angel’s gang of train and bank robbers. Rupert and Spike also have their reasons for becoming outlaws in America. Revenge is the motive for all three of these men. Xander, Riley, Graham and even Gunn belong to the Crawford Gang, along with various other characters from the TV shows.

I am issuing a few warnings right off on this one:

1. This is a period piece, circa late 1870’s.

2. At first, it will be Buffy/Other, but for a very short time. This is 1876, so, nothing about Caleb and Buffy’s engagement relationship will be sexually graphic. (Except in maybe the twisted thoughts of Caleb’s debauched mind).

3. Spike and Angel could definitely be perceived as bad guys in this one. However, we do really love our boys as ‘big bads’ now don’t we?


Prologue: ‘The Sunday Social’


Elizabeth, or Buffy as her family had nick named her, stood in the 1st Baptist Church of Redemption’s social hall. Buffy was trying her best to look interested in what her fiancé, Caleb Montgomery, was blathering on about. To the Reverend Snyder himself, no less. She was trying very hard; Buffy was, not to yawn visibly, right in the face of either man when her best friend, Willow Osbourne caught her eye.

Buffy rolled her lovely green eyes, behind her hand, of course and mouthed to Willow ‘so hum drum.’ Willow responded with a blush and a giggle as she scurried up to ‘rescue’ her best friend from the boring conversation between Caleb and the reverend.

“Can I steal away your lovely fiancé, Caleb?” Willow asked coyly as she grasped Buffy’s slim right arm tightly. “Mama wants to check with your bride-to-be and make sure she has the dress measurements written down right.”

Caleb gave both Willow and Buffy a raised brow, but then broke into his famous ‘aw shucks’ smile. “Sure Willow,” the big man chuckled. “Anything to speed up the wedding to my beautiful Elizabeth.” Montgomery never, ever called Buffy by her nickname for some reason.

Eliza Rosenberg, Willow’s mother, waited patiently for the two young women to join her by the refreshment tables. When both Buffy and Willow reached the older woman, Mrs. Rosenberg broke into laughter.

“I see my plan to rescue you from those two worked, eh Buffy?” Eliza asked the little blond, her mouth in an affectionate grin.

“Yes, thank you so much, Mrs. Rosenberg,” Buffy sighed. “I know Caleb Montgomery is a good catch and that I should marry him, come this September, but…”

“He’s boring?” Willow offered mischievously.

“Yes,” Buffy continued with another sad sigh. “However, he is the one Daddy wants me to marry and let’s face it. He is the most eligible, financially set bachelor in these parts. The other available young men around here are either poor; wild cowboys or ranch hands, or downright unattractive. At least Caleb is rich, stable and very handsome, really.”

“True,” Willow hummed in response, eyeing the groom across the room. “I’m afraid I snatched up the only other really appropriate male around here,” the red head giggled happily.

As if on cue, Daniel Osbourne, Willow’s young husband appeared out of no where. Daniel was the town of Redemption’s main bank teller and very well thought of in the community. The day the young, elfins Mr. Osbourne appeared in Redemption, he captured the heart of Willow Rosenberg, and visa versa. They had only recently married, but Willow was already nearly two months pregnant with the Osbourne child.

Buffy watched, wistfully, as Daniel placed a warm, loving kiss on his wife’s pale cheek.

‘I wish Caleb was as affectionate as that,’ Buffy sighed to herself in frustration. ‘I know we’re not yet married but it would be nice to actually feel some kind of…’

Suddenly, Buffy felt a strange prickly kind of tingling at the back of her neck. She was experiencing the undeniable feeling of someone’s eyes on her. This was not so strange, really, since she was and her fiancé were the latest ‘wonder couple’ of Redemption. It was natural for all kinds of folks around to watch the couple’s courtship and take note of both Caleb and Buffy. However, this tingle down Buffy’s neck and spine did not denote ‘that’ kind of perception of a casual observer. Trying very hard not to be too obvious, Buffy slowly turned her head to seek out the face of the person causing this sensation in her.

When she caught sight of the young man, against the far side of the social hall’s wall, Buffy was stunned. She had never seen this stranger anywhere around Redemption before, and she certainly had never seen a shock of platinum blond hair such as he had.

‘His eyes,’ Buffy actually strained to see the true color of them. Those magnetic blue eyes that were definitely trained only on her. They seemed to be the sources that were causing these wonderful, new and very strange sensations. These marvelous, alien tingles that were coursing through her tiny body.
‘Oh, dear Lord. His eyes look the color of indigo blue violets,’ she gasped slightly.

“Buffy, you okay?” Willow asked abruptly, breaking Buffy’s stunned reverie. “You look as white as a ghost, honey,” Willow noted with a concerned tone.

“Fine,” Buffy rasped a little too quickly in response. “Willow,” she whispered as she nodded at the strange man leaning against the wall. “Do you know him?”

Willow glanced over at the strange man and shrugged, “no. Perhaps Daniel knows him? Danny, who’s that,” Willow asked her husband, tactfully.

Daniel Osbourne gave his wife a raised brow of his own and scanned the room. When he saw who his Willow was speaking of, he smiled, slightly.

“His name’s William Galvaston,” Daniel offered, trying to sound indifferent. “The tall, dark haired man with him is Liam O’Connor, Galvaston's cousin. They just arrived in Redemption, a few days ago. The only reason I know this is that they opened a rather nice sized account, at the bank, yesterday. I handled the transactions,” Daniel finished proudly.

“Why?” Daniel asked Willow suspiciously. Caleb Montgomery was one of Daniel Osbourne’s best friends and he felt a little disloyal answering Buffy’s obvious questions.

“No reason,” Buffy shrugged as she looked away from the handsome stranger. She could not hide the bright red blush on her pretty face however.

‘He looks at me as if he wants to know what’s underneath my proper little pink dress,’ Buffy thought pleasantly. Although the very idea was really quite wicked and naughty on her part. ‘Lord, I am an immoral girl, though!’

“Who’s that?” William ‘Spike’ Giles asked his older, larger cousin, Angel Crawford, of the beautiful honey blond girl across the room. The platinum blond man could not help but stare at this tiny, golden vision just out of his reach.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Angel chuckled as he followed his younger cousin’s line of vision. “She is a beauty though,” he sighed.

“Back off,” Spike hissed at Angel, “you’ve got Darla. Besides, I saw this little gem first and…”

“Christ Spike,” Angel laughed heartily, “you know I’d never go after another girl. Not with my Darla waitin’ for me. Besides, you’d best remember we’re here, in Redemption to case the local bank vault, not the local ladies.”

“I can look can’t I?” Spike asked rather harshly. “Damn, she’s beautiful,” he whispered, still staring at the small, lovely girl. “That bloke, Osbourne was it? From the bank? He seems to know her well, eh? Let’s go over and…”

“Spike,” Angel grunted, “like I said. We won’t be in Redemption after Saturday. How you gonna’ court a pretty little local like that? Especially with the long arm of the law after all of us?”

“Don’t know,” Spike replied dreamily, “but I’m going to try at least.”


A/N: Well, there it is the first stage of my new fiction. Hope it flies here!

Thanks for reading, please review. Spufette

REDEMPTION


Chapter 1: ‘Unbaked Dough’


Summary: Buffy ‘muses’ on the handsome stranger she saw at the church social.

Spike muses on the chance that Buffy might bring some happiness to his miserable life.

Chapter 1:


Buffy ‘slapped’ the bread dough that she had been kneading for almost fifteen minutes. Her frustration was obvious as she aggressively ‘beat’ the dough about.

‘Stupid mysterious blond man,’ Buffy hissed silently as she molded the dough into a perfect loaf. ‘Who the heck is he, anyway, to look at me like that? Didn’t he realize I’m a betrothed woman?’



Buffy had never thought of herself as a true, conventional beauty of sorts. She had not, in her seventeen years, discovered the real truth about herself. At least not by this tender age in her life. The young woman did not yet know the power that her emerald green eyes held over the males about her, Caleb included. Or the way she could twist her plump pink lips into a pout that could bring strong men to their knees.

The innate innocence that Buffy possessed was a lot of her charm, at least where the male population was concerned. Since she had no guile or carnal cunning, Buffy was all the more appealing to all of the men in her life. Especially in regards to her fiancé, Caleb Montgomery. Montgomery had picked up on Buffy’s naïve sensuality by the time the Summers’ girl was fifteen-years-old.

There was something else Buffy possessed, something most folks had no idea about. Only her family had the faintest notion that the oldest Summers’ child had a ‘special’ gift. Buffy had an inner sense of intuition that she seemed to have been born with. Her maternal grandmother, Elizabeth, Buffy’s namesake, had chattered on since the day she was born:

“She’s got the ‘shining’ Joyce,” Granny Elizabeth blathered on and on constantly. “It’s a gift and shouldn’t be ignored,” the old woman insisted.

Basically, in a nutshell, ‘the shining’ was just an old southern phrase for an inborn strong case of the sixth sense. Elizabeth Sawyers, Buffy’ grandmother had it, as did her own mother, Liza. Granny Elizabeth swore by the ‘sense’ and that her oldest granddaughter had it in spades.

“That man,” Buffy hissed as she rolled out the bread dough, and then violently punched it back into a large ball. “There’s something about that William Galvaston and his so called cousin that isn’t quite right,” she muttered.

Buffy wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and shoved the bread baking rack into the wood burning stove. She sighed heavily and sat down at the lovely wooden table her daddy, Hank, had fashioned years ago.

“Let’s be honest,” Buffy reasoned with her, “there’s something not quite right about Caleb either.”

A few months before, Buffy and Caleb had been ‘out’ socially as it were. They had gone on a picnic, which was quite reasonable for a young couple who were courting. When it had come time to leave for home, Buffy was stunned to feel Caleb’s strong arms about her, pulling her down on the carelessly thrown blanket they had eaten on.

“Caleb!” Buffy squealed in shock. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to ‘pet’ with my girl,” the large dark-haired man chuckled wickedly. He embraced Buffy’s tiny frame in his vice-like grip and refused to let go.

Caleb had begun to paw at her like some animal. Buffy was so shocked and disgusted at her fiancé’s appalling behavior that she could barely cry out in protest.

“Caleb!” Buffy screamed in fright. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

“Aw, come on Elizabeth,” Caleb rasped lustily, “we’re nearly married. Where’s the harm in having the honeymoon before the wedding?”

“Stop it!” Buffy screeched, by now she was totally horrified. Her soon to be groom had an odd, almost evil gleam in his dark eyes and it was terrifying Buffy.

“Why should I? I am your fiancé, little girl. You don’t fool me, Elizabeth,” Caleb smirked, but his voice was low and nearly a growl. “I know under that prim and proper exterior, you’re going to be a little firecracker in our bed! Jesus Lizzy, I can’t wait for the delicious things we’ll do to each other in our marital bed!”

“Caleb!” Buffy gasped, she was sure she was pale as a ghost by now. “We’ve so little time before our wedding; we should wait to be married in the eyes of God!” Buffy was past terrified at this point. Her supposedly stoic, well-respected fiancé was almost burning her with unbridled lust in his dark eyes.

Montgomery was about to place a rough kiss on his Elizabeth’s pink, puffy little lips, but he stopped short just before. His assault halted, Caleb seemed to pause and ‘think’ about what he had just tried to do.

“You’re right, Lizzy, I’m sorry,” Caleb muttered under his breath. Although he looked more disappointed then remorseful at the present time?

However, something about the way he said ‘sorry’ and that still wild look in his eyes disturbed Buffy, greatly. It was as if this man, her fiancé, had to force himself into reigning in his desire. While this should probably be flattering to Buffy, at least a little, she found it rather disgusting.

Buffy and Caleb had left the secluded picnic spot and rode home, in the buckboard, in complete silence. The couple had not spoken of the embarrassing event since then.

As she sat, waiting for her bread to bake, Buffy realized something that she had not really pondered before. It wasn’t so much that Caleb had tried to seduce her on their picnic blanket at all, that bothered Buffy. That really was to be expected after all. What really confused and disturbed Buffy is that ‘she’ did not feel the same way about him.

There had not been, that day, nor had there ever been any of those desirous feelings, sensations or tingles in Buffy. Not one lustful or longing sensation had pulsated through Buffy’s small frame. Ever. Not even for her so called fiancé, Caleb Montgomery.

In fact, Buffy had never really had ‘those’ tingly sensations inside of her. At least she had not ever had them before, as she remembered. Not until a mysterious blond haired man by the name of William caused them to course through her. And, he had managed that, just by gazing at her with his indigo blue eyes. And that alone was accomplished from across the church social hall, no less.


This realization, above anything else, disturbed Buffy more then anything. She was so engaged in her confusing thoughts, that Buffy missed the tell tale sign of burning bread coming from the huge wood stove.


Spike Giles sauntered into his Uncle Wesley Pryce’s Nebraska farmhouse. He was good at sauntering, Spike was, and oh, how he enjoyed it so. It made him feel all manly for some reason.

At the moment, Angel, Wesley, Rupert Giles, Riley Finn and Xander Harris were huddled about the big table in the dining room.
Spike noted that his dad, Rupert, Angel, Riley and Xander were in a full on game of poker.

The stringent smell of cheap whiskey and the sweet, smoky scent of peyote permeated the dining room. Spike eyed Riley Finn suspiciously and noticed the rolled ‘cigarette’ in the large man’s meaty right hand.

“Keep smokin’ that peyote, Finn, and your brain’ll turn to mush,” Spike smirked in warning to the dark-haired man. Although he liked Riley, sort of, Spike never really trusted the hulking farm boy.

“My mother is a great-granddaughter of Tecumseh, warrior of the Shawnee,” Riley drawled amicably. He took another drag of the rolled ‘cigarette’ between his fingers. “Her people smoked this as a religious rite, for hundreds of years. Believe me, Spike,” Riley grunted, “no mush in ‘their’ brains.”

Spike shrugged in deference, “true,” he chuckled in response. “Spose it’s no worse then the rot gut whiskey I swallow daily.”

“Spose not,” Riley nodded as he tossed three throwaway cards onto the oaken table. “Give me three, Xander,” Riley ordered his good friend, amicably. “Make sure they’re real cards this time, huh?” Riley took another drag of the pungent cigarette that he so loved.

Xander Harris grinned warmly at his good friend Riley Finn. The two men had basically grown up together, on neighboring farms in Kentucky. They probably would have toiled away, forever, next to each other. That is if one Angel Crawford hadn’t ridden through their neck of the woods and persuaded both of the young men to follow him into a life of crime.

“When will you relieve the 1st National Bank of Redemption of its payload, Rupert?” Wesley asked his brother-in-law nervously.

“Saturday,” Rupert Giles grunted in response as he drained his own whiskey glass of its contents. “Angel and Spike seem to think that’s the best time to make the hit. Less customers and…”

“Just make sure you slip in and back out again, with as little drama as possible, Rupert,” Wesley muttered with a raised dark brow.

“All’s I need is for my fiancé, Winnefred, to even get inkling that I’m harboring a bunch of outlaws and she’ll leave me for good.” Wesley’s pleading voice ended up in a whine.

“You had your choice, brother,” Rupert mumbled with a scowl as he tossed a dead card onto the table and reached for the whiskey bottle again. “You threw your lot in with my nephew Angel and the rest of us. I noticed you made no ‘noise’ when we paid you good and well to board and keep us near your precious Redemption.”

“It’s true,” Wesley Pryce whispered anxiously. “Remember, your late wife, Jennifer was my half-sister and I loved her too. Just as I loved your daughter, Drusilla.” Wesley’s face was bright red with embarrassment, especially after both Rupert and Spike cringed at the mention Jennifer and Drusilla’s names. Jennifer Giles was Rupert’s late wife and William ‘Spike’s’ mother. Drusilla was Rupert and Jennifer’s daughter, their oldest child, Spike’s sister. At least, they had been, once.

“I know,” Rupert whispered harshly. The oldest man in the room stood and tossed the rest of his poker hand on the table before him. “I’m going for a ride,” he stated simply.

After the elder Giles left, Spike sat down next to Wesley, his uncle of sorts, and glared at the dark-haired man. Spike had never quite figured old Wesley out, except to note that although he was British by birth? This man had migrated to the Americas years before and set up business and home near Redemption, Nebraska. As it turned out, that served Angel’s gang of bank and train robbers well. In the here and now that is.

“So,” Spike murmured out of the side of his mouth to his uncle, “this Elizabeth Summers. She’s really going to marry that ponce of a bloke? Wasn't it Caleb something or other?”

Wesley gave his nephew a chastising glare, and then nodded his head in confirmation. “Yes,” is all the older, articulate man uttered.

“Not as bright as she looks, eh?” Spike asked with a smirk as he picked up his father’s discarded hand of cards.

“Now see here, William,” Wesley hissed in exasperation. “I gave your father and you, and this rag tag gang of hooligans a place to ‘stay’ while you size up the local bank to rob. I don’t owe you, especially, any explanations regarding Elizabeth Summers or her wedding plans!”

“Buffy Summers is a good friend of my own fiancé, Winnefred Burkle, and I’ll be bloody damned to hell if I sell her out to the likes of you! I’m only going along with this whole sordid mess of harboring you all because I loved my sister, Jenny. I love your sister, Drusilla, too. I hate Ethan Rayne and his cohorts, mainly for what they did to Jenny, Drusilla and your father. Even to you in the process,” Wesley finished with a blush.

Riley interjected, tactfully, at this point. “I’m beat,” he offered weakly. “Going to bed,” Finn made a big deal of yawning loudly.

“Me too,” Xander added. “See you in the morning Spike. Wesley.”

After the two men left, Wesley turned to face his nephew. His countenance was sympathetic, but stern.

“Listen William,” Wesley began with hesitation. “I hate Ethan Rayne and his whole crew for what happened to your mother and sister. That’s why I did not hesitate when your father asked me to board him, Angel, you and some of your men here at my farm. I'd do anything to avenge ourselves on the likes of Rayne. I knew that in England, our homeland, we would never get justice for Rayne’s crimes. Here? You hit the monster of a man, like Ethan Rayne, where it hurts most. In his pocket book!”

Spike stared into the half empty glass before him and thought about his beautiful mother and lost sister. Ethan Rayne had taken everything from his father and him. Or, anything that mattered anyway

The truth was, when Spike had spied the young blond, Buffy Summers at that silly church social? He had considered, for once, the chance that maybe something else might just matter in his miserable life. Maybe this Buffy offered something besides hatred and revenge.

The young woman, Buffy, had moved Spike in a way that he’d never felt before. When a man looked at a saloon whore, or easy woman, he saw a quickly paid for release of a physical need. When a man, like Spike, looked at a young, beautiful woman like Buffy Summers, he saw a future; marriage, children and a hearth and home.


Spike had a feeling that he’d never feel that way again, as he had the moment he saw Buffy Summers. It near killed him to think that he might ride out of this God forsaken town and territory; never to see again, the blond vision he’d spied the other night.

“I can’t have you chasing after a respectable young woman like Buffy Summers, William,” Wesley warned. “Not only is she betrothed to one of the most beloved, respected young men in the county? If you dare to try and entangle yourself personally, in any way with her, you will be sorry. You risk the chance of exposing your family and friends to the law. Here, and in the parts surrounding this town.”

“Besides,” Wesley snorted, “you and your gang will be gone after Saturday. Right?”

Spike glanced at his uncle out of the corner of his left blue eye. “Yeah,” he answered evenly, but chuckled wickedly. “But who the bloody hell knows? A little less then a week might just be enough time to woo the lovely Miss Summers away from her intended, eh uncle?”


A/N: In the next chapter, I want to explore all of the reasons that Angel, Spike, Rupert and the others are so set on revenge by their actions.

Also, I might just write the bank robbery into the next chapter. When the robbery happens, that’s when Buffy’s life will be turned upside down!

Thanks for reading. Please review. Spufette

REDEMPTION




Chapter 3: ‘Mutual Sensations’


It was near 2:00 PM, Thursday afternoon in the town of Redemption, Nebraska. Spike, Angel and Rupert Giles were at the Silver Spur Saloon, one of Redemption’s many watering holes.

The trio sat at an unobvious table, near the back of the barroom. Spike was beginning to think that the whole day had been a waste of time for them all. He was bored beyond distraction and wished he could just go and find the desirable Miss Buffy Summers. Like that could ever happen.

Suddenly, a rather tall, youngish looking man sauntered into the saloon, a smug, proud look on his face. Anyone unfamiliar with the newcomer could easily see that he ‘belonged’ here, in this place. That he was comfortable with his surroundings and the occupants of this particular bar.

“Hank Summers!” A tall, middle aged man called to the man at the saloon door. “Come, sit with us.”

This greeting caught Spike’s attention, especially. He recognized the last name as belonging to the little blond angel he had asked about for the last few days.

“Thank you Richard, I will join you,” Hank Summers called, amicably. “I’ve a reprieve from my darling daughter, Buffy’s town shopping.”

Spike, Angel and Rupert watched the fairly young Hank Summers join Richard Wilkens and some man named Ted, at their small table. After Summers ordered a beer for himself, he settled down on an empty chair at Sheriff Wilkin’s table.

“Haven’t had a chance to congratulate you Summers,” Spike heard the law man chortle. “On gaining a son-in-law, the likes of Caleb Montgomery that is. But it’s Montgomery who should be congratulated, eh? Your Buffy is the catch of the whole territory and you should be very proud of her man.”

“I am,” Hank grunted with a proud grin. “My Buffy is a peach of a girl and you are right. Caleb is a lucky man! Buffy is over at the Rosenbergs as we speak, preparing her wedding dress. My darling wife, Joyce, had to stay at home with little Dawn and Hank Jr. The boy has a cough, again,” Hank frowned in concern.

All of the men at the Wilkens’ table spoke loudly and with great confidence. This enabled Spike and his table’s occupants to overhear every word that they said.

. “Maybe you better make yourself scarce, Spike,” Angel advised his blond cousin with a wicked smirk. “I think there’s a little blond piece of skirt on the loose in Redemption, just waitin’ for you to find her. This might be the only chance you get to uhm, let’s see, connect with this Buffy before we hit the bank and hightail it out of this dusty town.”

“You just might be right,” Spike chuckled lowly as he downed his whiskey and grabbed his hat. He left the saloon as unobserved as possible and headed out onto the streets of Redemption. Buffy Summers was somewhere, somewhat alone out there and Spike had every intention of using this to his advantage.


Now, the first hurdle Spike would have to jump was just where this Rosenberg place was. If Buffy was ‘there’ at this dressmaker’s house, then that’s where Spike needed to be too.

With a quick glance about the street before him, Spike decided that the best place to start, for information that is, was probably the telegraph station. It was only about a hundred yards from the Silver Spur and if anyone knew everything in Redemption? It would have to be the telegraph operator.

Before Spike could make his way to the telegraph office, however, he spied the object of his obsession. Miss Summers, herself, headed down the walkway across the street from him. Spike slipped behind a rather large column that held up the awning above him and watched Buffy wander down the street into a mercantile shop.

“Perfect,” Spike chuckled and he hurried across the street and headed straight for the shop his little angel had disappeared into. “I’ll be sure to corner her in some shadowy nook of the shop,” he murmured wickedly. “She can’t escape me this time,” he assured himself as he followed Buffy into the Levison Mercantile.

The first thing Spike noticed when he stepped into the shop was that ‘his’ Buffy was chatting, amicably, with a short, dark haired young man behind the front counter.

“Well, yes, the wedding is in September, Johnathan,” Buffy explained to Mr. Levison’s only son, Johnathan. “I know that’s only a few months away, I just haven’t sent the invitations out yet and…”

Johnathan Levison took that opportunity to look up at the strange, blond man that had entered his shop. Buffy noted that her friend had become distracted and glanced in the direction that Johnny was looking. That’s when she saw the mysterious young man from the church social of last Sunday. For some reason, Buffy’s cheeks became instantly inflamed and she had to take a deep breath.

“May I help you?” Johnathan asked the blond man with a raised brow.

“I don’t mean to interrupt you and the lady,” Spike lied easily. Of course he meant to interrupt both of them. He had his sights set on Miss Buffy Summers and this Johnathan was rather getting in the way of his plans.

“No problem,” Levison smiled widely and nodded at Buffy. “I’ve got some business to attend to, in the back of the store. “I’ll have Amy stop in and visit with you, soon, Buffy,” Johnathan exclaimed. Amy was Johnathan’s young wife.

“John, I…” Buffy stammered as she nervously watched her friend’s husband scurry out of the front of the shop. This left Buffy and this William entirely alone in the front of the mercantile.

‘Now why would John Levison leave not one, but two customers alone in the front of his father’s shop?’ Buffy mused, a little perplexed by her old friend’s behavior.

Spike slid up to within a foot of Buffy and spoke gently, “sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you and your mate, luv.”

Buffy’s green eyes flew wide open in shock. “No, not my mate, sir,” she stammered with a flustered blush. “Johnny’s my friend, his wife, Amy and…”

“Mate’s my way of saying friend, luv,” Spike chuckled softly, never taking his eyes from hers. “If you didn’t notice,” he added with a smirk, “I’m not really from around here. I was born in England. Just got to town.”

I know,” Buffy snapped, a little more harshly then she intended. “My best friend, Willow Osbourne is Daniel Osbourne’s wife. I believe you and your cousin have done business with him. At the bank,” she finished shyly.

‘Great Buffy,’ she chided herself, ‘let him know you’ve asked about him. You are such a nimrod, girl.’

“You’ve asked about me?” Spike inquired with a raised dark brow.

Buffy noted that this man’s almost silver hair did not match with his dark brown eyebrows. Along with the all black clothing this Galvaston man wore? He looked some outlaw from a surreal painting.

“NO! No questions about you at all. Not at all!” Buffy exclaimed defensively. “Daniel just pointed you and your cousin out, at last Sunday’s social. I cannot imagine why he would mention you two, but he did.” She shrugged her slim shoulders, indifferently. At least she hoped this man thought she was indifferent to him.

“Too bad,” Spike purred as he took just one step closer to the little blond angel. “Because I’ve asked everyone in this town, that I could think of, about you that is.” He stared deeply into the tiny woman’s emerald green eyes.

He was rewarded with a bright red blush by Miss Summers. Spike got the feeling that the lady before him had to fight the urge to slap his face a good one.



Instead, Buffy merely backed up a few steps, right into the cashier’s counter behind her. This caused her to actually fall forward, right into this William’s strong arms.

After the stranger had righted her, Buffy pulled herself out of his arms and smoothed her emerald green dress. Suddenly, she was almost sorry that she had worn her new dress that day. Buffy was different then the other ladies of Redemption and her time. While even the single young women chose to wear more practical, almost dull colored day dresses, Buffy would not follow their suit.

All the ladies of the area wore lovely, proper dresses, of course, but not any that were special. Buffy liked to feel special and she wore bright or pastel dresses on most occasions. Even for just a trip into town to shop. It was her way and always had been which was probably one of the reasons that she caught so many of the male populations’ eyes. Young or old.

However, Buffy noted with slight regret, perhaps today was not a good day to wear the new emerald green dress. She knew for a fact it was one of Caleb’s favorites on her and that it brought out the emerald in her eyes. The last thing that she, Elizabeth Summers, needed to be doing was catching the eye of a strange man like this William Galvaston.

‘I cannot believe he has been asking about town after me,’ Buffy silently gasped. She was past stunned, well, kind of past stunned and not in the least bit flattered by this man’s unwanted attention.

‘Okay,’ she mentally took a deep breath and swallowed hard, ‘so you are a little flattered by this William’s attention at that. That’s okay, right?’

“You have asked about me?” Buffy finally broke the ‘tension’ between her and the blond man. Her voice sounded like a small child's whine, she felt.

“All over town and then some,” Spike responded sincerely. “For instance,” he continued, “I know you are Elizabeth Summers, called Buffy. Which by the way suits you to a tee, I think,” he added with another chuckle.

“You parents are farmers and you have a little sis and brother. You, Miss Summers, are well thought of and loved throughout the territory and especially by one Caleb Montgomery.” Here Spike frowned, unhappily.

“Although why a catch like you would waste your time on a ponce like Montgomery is beyond me,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I sized the man up and well, frankly Buffy I…”

“How dare you!” Buffy squealed in disbelief. “How dare you call my fiancé that ‘ponce’ name! How dare you address me by my nickname and most of all? How double dare you ask all over town about me?” She was so angry that she forgot to slap this brazen man, just for good measure.

‘What the heck does ponce mean anyway?’ she asked herself, puzzled.

“Now don’t be cross with me, Miss Summers,” Spike nearly whimpered. “A bloke like me can’t help it if he sees a beautiful vision like you and just falls immediately. Can he?” He did his best to give Buffy a nice, sincere pout.

Buffy felt more hot words come to her lips, but she was instantly taken aback by this man’s sincerity. Besides, the term ‘beautiful vision’ that he used did not go unnoticed by her.

She blushed, profusely and bit back the next words of chastisement she had threatened to use on him.

“You think I’m pretty?” Buffy asked William, meekly.

“I think Miss Summers," William murmured tenderly, “that you are beautiful, gorgeous and a true vision on earth. I mean that, honestly.” He reached out his left hand and sought out a stray blond strand of her golden hair.

Buffy fought the urge to flinch when William reached up and gently tucked a long strand of her hair behind her right ear. She felt those ‘tingly’ sensations from the other night, sweep over her once more.

Spike felt a jolt, similar to a lightening bolt he supposed, run through his whole body. And that was just when he lightly touched Buffy with his left hand. Of course he had felt those same sensations, the chills and tingles that had coursed through his body before. The first time he’d seen Buffy, at church last Sunday and just now, when he spied her in the shop. Actually, Spike had felt these pleasant sensations every time he thought of Buffy Summers since that fateful evening at church.

“I need to go,” Buffy mumbled, suddenly. “My father, he’s probably waiting for me and…”

“Your father is in the Silver Spur, Miss Summers. Enjoying a beer with friends, believe me. That’s how I knew you were here, lose in town, sweet.” Spike grinned wickedly down at the little peach of a girl.

“My father told you that…” Buffy began in disbelief.

“No, your father didn’t even notice me, my cousin or dad,” Spike shook his blond head. “I overheard him tell his friends where you were and sought you out.” Spike showed no false shame or embarrassment over his declaration.

“I should go, back to Mrs. Rosenbergs,” Buffy whispered meekly. “I need to go sir. We do not know each other. This isn’t right, for me to be standing here, chatting with you about such things and all.” Buffy tried to step past Mr. Galvaston, but he grasped her by her slim arm, gently enough.

“You feel it, don’t you, Miss Summers?” Spike asked Buffy, quietly. “You feel this ‘thing’ between us? These mutual sensations we have for each other? This heat and desire, between us, I mean. I certainly do and have since I saw you last Sunday.”

“I…” Buffy’s response trailed off as soon as it began. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and almost dizzy. It did not help that Mr. Galvaston’s strong left hand was clenched firmly, but gently on her right arm.

“Let me make this easier for both of us, Miss Summers,” Spike whispered into Buffy’s dear little ear. “My name is William Galvaston and I’m new here, in Redemption. My cousin, Liam, and I are here to ‘invest’ some time and finances into the community. You, Miss Summers, or can I call you Buffy? Please let me call you Buffy,” he purred, delighted when she blushed again.

“Mr. Galvaston,” Buffy began, primly enough, although her body shivered at his touch.

“Call me William,” Spike ordered her gently. “I know it’s going to sound like music coming from your lovely, soft pink lips, Buffy.”

Buffy felt her legs go to jelly at William’s poetic words and his accent only accentuated his lovely prose.

“William,” Buffy whispered in a panty little breath. He had not let go of her arm as of yet and she was fearful that she might faint from near excitement at his touch.

“I am flattered, truly, William,” Buffy continued with half closed eyes. “However,” she hesitated with her verbal come back as she gently pulled her arm from his grasp.

“However, I am engaged to be married to Caleb Montgomery this September. It is not proper for me to stand here and listen to your pretty words of flattery.”

“That in itself is a travesty Buffy,” Spike murmured sadly. “That you are engaged to this man, Montgomery. I had hoped I could persuade you to maybe meet me tomorrow evening? I know where you live, with your family, and wondered if you might meet me on the outskirts of your father’s farm? Just to talk, Buffy. Nothing more, I promise Get to know each other, better that is.”

“I cannot,” Buffy whispered sorrowfully. “It is not proper, nor would it be respectful to Caleb, my fiancé. He is a good man and deserves a truly loyal, faithful fiancé.”

She glanced away from William and tried to focus to nervous stare onto the raised wooden plank on the Levison floor.

‘Something is off with this man,’ Buffy reasoned, her sixth sense sent an alarm to her brain. ‘He is not the business man he portrays himself to be. There is a sense of danger about him.’

Spike sighed heavily and lifted Buffy’s little chin up, so her green eyes could meet his blue ones. He searched those emerald orbs of hers and felt validated when he found the truth he sought in them.

“You do feel like I do, though, don’t you?” Spike asked Buffy in a hushed tone. “I can tell, by the fire in your beautiful eyes that you feel these sensations that I do. Just by being this close to each other? At least give me that crumb, Buffy.”

“It does not matter,” Buffy replied evenly, “I am an engaged woman Mr. Galvaston.” She purposely used William’s proper last name to end this inappropriate conversation with.

“I see,” Spike muttered harshly, his mouth twisted in a perturbed scowl.

“My cousin, Liam and me, we’re leaving on business, after Saturday. I’d hoped…” he left the sentence unfinished as he searched Buffy’s cat eyes once again.

“Oh,” Buffy whispered softly, trying to mask her sudden disappointment at William’s departure from Redemption.

“Will your cousin and you be back?” she asked without really meaning to. Once again she blushed at her boldness.

Spike smiled, softly and nodded slightly. “I have every intention of returning to Redemption, Buffy,” he assured her in a deep, husky voice. “I only hope it’s before you make the serious mistake of marrying that fool, Montgomery,” he finished with a snort.

“William,” Buffy mumbled, “I cannot have you speaking about Caleb like that. As I said, he’s a good man.”

“That remains to be seen, Buffy. I mean how good of a man Caleb Montgomery really is,” Spike sighed. He took Buffy’s tiny hand in his and lifted it to his lips. As he grazed her palm with a light kiss of his lips, Spike whispered, “When I return to Redemption, Buffy Summers, pray that you have not married Montgomery. It would surely break my black heart if you have.”

Spike smiled at Buffy, warmly, turned away from her and left the shop as quietly as he had entered it.

Buffy stood at the counter, the tiny hand that William had just kissed was placed at her own lips. She tried very hard not to let the threatening tears in her green eyes spill onto her cheeks.


A/N: Okay, I split this chapter in half as it was just too long. I will try and post the next one tomorrow.

Interesting that Johnathan ‘knew’ to depart from the front of the shop and leave Spike and Buffy alone together, huh? How does Johnathan fit in here, eh?

Next chapter, Buffy has a heart-to-heart with her mother and little sister about ‘feelings’ and all. Our beloved little gang of outlaws makes a hit on the bank, where they find themselves in need of a hostage to escape the law. Guess who the hostage just might be?

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 3: ‘Conversations; Or Lack Of!’


Summary: Spike mopes and paces around, at first in this chapter. Riley (yes Riley) offers Spike and the gang a little insight to ‘soul mates’ and such.

Buffy is at home, wrestling with her own inner demons and she has a convo with Joyce. Then Dawn gets into the act later that night and Buffy realizes that her little sister is a lot smarter then she thought.

I’m beginning the chapter with these interactions between the gang members and Buffy’s with her family members. Kind of ‘Young Guns meets The Brady Bunch!’ (Okay, maybe not the Brady Bunch).

Anyway, this is the chapter where the bank robbery occurs. I think I’ve come up with a nifty way to get Buffy in town for the events on Saturday.

I hope this comes out like I meant it to: Sweet, sad a little, funny in places, yet a little exciting. There is a hinted at, but surprise twist at the very end of this chapter.

Please read and enjoy!


Chapter 3:


Spike had moped about his Uncle Wesley’s house, for hours. This in itself was enough for Angel to just about pull his gun out and blow Spike’s brains all over the fine dining table linen. Even the broody Angel Crawford could not take much more of his younger cousin’s sour mood.

“How long until Saturday?” Spike muttered at his cousin, the agitation in his tone was clearly visible.

“Oh, about five minutes closer then the last time you asked boy,” Rupert Giles hissed at his only living child. Rupert was getting a bit fed up with his son’s moody demeanor also.

“Why don’t you just go to town, buy a whore and get your release little cousin,” Angel asked in disgust. “If the little piece of skirt can’t or won’t meet up with you and give it up? Go buy it? Get a little blond and…”

“I think I’d rather give myself a good wank then pay for something second best, Peaches,” Spike grumbled as he lit another cigarette.

“Oh good Christ,” Xander Harris groaned loudly. "Do you guys have to talk about this? Now?”

“Just because you have your wife, Anya, waiting for you in Nogales, Harris,” Riley Finn snarled at his friend. “Doesn’t mean the rest of us, well, Angel excluded, have any choice in how we get our release, huh?”

“True,” Angel chuckled, “I’ve got my Darla waitin’ on me, with your Anya, Xander. I can’t wait to see my little darling again. When we get to Nogales, Arizona, I intend on…”

“That’s about enough!” Giles roared in disgust.

“Get some sleep son,” Giles ordered his only living child.
. “Saturday will come soon enough and we will relieve the Redemption bank of its monies. I hope Ethan Rayne feels this slap, way back in London. The old bastard,” Rupert finished with a hiss.

“Soul mates,” Riley Finn blurted suddenly.

“What?” Angel asked his friend and one of his best men. “What’s a soul mate?” The large dark haired Angel asked, puzzled.

“A man and a woman that’s meant to be together forever,” Riley drawled in response. “Mates of the soul,” Finn continued, “it’s what my mother’s people called it.”

“Tell me more,” Spike ordered the tall, peyote smoking young man next to him. Riley had peaked Spike’s interest, for once.

“Simple really,” Riley said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. He took another drag from his beloved peyote and blew the smoke out slowly. “My grandparents, on my dad’s side, they fled Ireland when my father was only seven or so. They came to America under some pretty shady circumstances.”

“And this is about soul mates because?” Graham, another member of the gang, asked impatiently.

“My dad grew up in a settlement, in Ohio. That’s where he met my mother, at a Shawnee village. She was only about fifteen or so, at the time,” Riley murmured wistfully. “Dad knew, the minute he saw my mother that she was his for all time. It means that they belong together, forever. It’s what the Shawnee call ‘mates of the soul’ and it’s nature’s way. You can’t fight it. The Great Spirit controls these things,” Riley explained. “I think the Great Spirit himself has found old Spike’s soul mate for him. This little skirt of a girl, Buffy Summers.”

“You smoke too much of that loco weed, Finn,” Graham grunted in what appeared to be envious disgust.

“Maybe,” Riley chuckled in response, “but fact is? Angel, and Harris there? They’ve found their soul mates and I think Spike has too. Like I said, you can’t fight the way of nature, or the Great Spirit. Who, by the way, is as much to my mother’s people as your God is to your folks. Their ways demand as much respect as yours. Besides, you never can fight God or nature Graham and you never will.” Riley shrugged his shoulders again and settled back into his chair.

“Thanks mate,” Spike muttered in gratitude to the big hulking man. Riley Finn had gone up a notch or two in Spike’s opinion since a few hours before.


Buffy paced about her parents’ simple but cozy farmhouse. She had been ‘restless’ since her meeting with William Galvaston earlier that day. Finally, after everyone but Joyce Summers had shuffled off to bed, Buffy cornered her mother at the kitchen table. There was a lot Buffy needed to talk to her mother about and it could no longer wait. Pride, embarrassment and tact be damned!

“What’s troubling you Buffy?” Joyce asked her daughter quietly as she mended Hank Jr.'s torn best Sunday shirt.

“Mama,” Buffy stammered nervously, a bright red blush on her pretty face. “I was wondering,” the daughter began as she joined her mother at the table. “About you and Papa,” Buffy continued as tactfully as possible.

“What about us,” Joyce asked matter-of-factly as she broke the mending thread, with her blunt teeth. While Joyce retied the thread to another blunter needle, she eyed her oldest child, warily.

“I just wondered, well…” Buffy found it difficult to continue on. As much as she loved her mother, this was just a little too private to even share with her.

Joyce Summers sighed heavily and tossed the still unfinished shirt onto the wooden table before them. She leaned back in her chair and stared at her golden daughter with affection.

“You want to know how it is between your father and me, right. Or, more importantly, how it was? When we first met?” Joyce didn’t have to hear Buffy’s response; she felt it in her very heart and soul.

“Yes,” Buffy whispered softly. “I need to know how things were, then. How things are, and were, between you and Papa. If you can remember that far back that is?” Buffy shot her mother a hopeful look.

“Well,” Joyce laughed loudly, “it wasn’t so very long ago that your father and I met, Buffy.” It was Joyce’s turn to shoot Buffy a ‘look’ of sorts. “Your father and I were barely sixteen when we met, dear. Seventeen when we married.” Joyce raised a fair brow at her oldest.

“I know but…” Buffy’s voice trailed off as she glanced away from her mother, her idol for the past seventeen years of her life.

“What is it, dear?” Joyce suddenly asked, gently. “Do you want to know how it is between a married man and woman? Or how it should be? How it was between Daddy and me? Truly?”

“You two,” Buffy mumbled in reply, her face a bright red. “How it was between the two of you, I mean,” she trailed off timidly.

“Well, your father and I were lucky honey,” Joyce murmured with a satisfied grin. “We ‘felt’ that way, at least the way I think you mean, from the start. When we first met each other? Hank Summers blew into my hometown and somehow sought me out, right away. He took work with my father, your grandfather. I still believe it was to meet me, no matter what your dad says.”

Joyce smiled widely and closed her blue eyes in memory. “Your father wheedled his way into my life and my heart, from the beginning. We both had ‘those feelings’ for each other, right off. Still do really. Is that what’s bothering you Buffy? Do you not feel that way for Caleb?”

“I don’t think I do,” Buffy answered, honestly. “I had hoped I might have developed ‘those feelings’ for Caleb, but now? I am not so very sure I ever will.”

Joyce sighed again and shook her fair head, “then I guess you had better re-think your marriage to Caleb Montgomery dear.”

“How can I humiliate a man like Caleb by breaking off our engagement Mama?” She glared at her mother in stunned disbelief at her suggestion.

“How can you marry a man you don’t truly love?” Joyce countered evenly. “If you do? Go ahead and marry Caleb, knowing you don’t share the obvious feelings he has for you? You’ll make each other miserable, mark my words girl. Perhaps if you took council, with the Reverend Snyder first? Before you speak to Caleb about this? On Sunday, after services at church?” Joyce offered the advice with a smile, but Buffy knew her the wise woman was deadly serious about this.

Buffy groaned, inwardly, but continued to gaze at her mother’s lovely face. She knew the older woman was right, that she had better re-think this whole Caleb thing and quickly. It would be difficult, near impossible, to try and explain her worries to her fiancé. However, it had to be done, and soon.

“No,” Buffy shook her blond head, “not Sunday. Saturday morning, that is if Papa can drive me into town. Caleb is taking me to town, in the late afternoon, to have supper as usual at the café. I will ‘talk’ with Reverend Snyder in the morning; get a feel for how I should discuss this with Caleb.”

“Good,” Joyce nodded soberly at her daughter. “I have to tell you Buffy,” she continued with hesitation. “To be honest, I never felt this engagement of yours, to Caleb, was the right thing for you. Frankly, there’s something not quite right about Caleb Montgomery. I just never had the courage to voice my opinions on him to you. Not before this.”

“It’s all right, Mama,” Buffy whispered as her body visibly shivered at the thought of her Saturday conversation with her fiancé. “To be honest,” she added in a mumble, “I agree. There is something off about Caleb. I only hope he understands when I ‘talk’ to him on Saturday.”

Buffy lay in her small bed, wide awake after the conversation she had just had with mama. It had to be well after midnight, but she found that she just could not close her eyes and rest properly. Even though there was the usual amount of work around the farm to do tomorrow.

Just as she was about to force herself to sleep, Buffy heard the soft, gentle voice of her little sister, Dawn. “Buffy?” Dawn called from her own bed in the shared room, “you’re not going to marry Caleb, are you?”

“Go back to sleep Dawnie,” Buffy ordered her sister in a gentle tone. “It’s not for you to worry about this honey.”

“I know,” Dawn whispered, “but I love you Buffy and I want you to be happy. Please don’t marry Caleb, Buffy. Please. I don’t like him very much and never have. He’s a bad man, deep inside. I know it.”

“Dawn!” Buffy gasped. "You must not say that about Caleb Montgomery. Just because I am getting nervous about marrying him, does not mean any of us should say he’s bad.”

“Well, he is a bad man,” Dawn countered, stubbornly. “I’ve seen him, looking at you Buffy, kind of funny. Not with love, not like mama and daddy have for each other. Caleb looks at you, when you don’t see him do it, like a wolf or something. A mean, a nasty old wolf at that!"

Buffy did not respond to her sister’s observations, at least right away. She was too busy considering what the wise little twelve-year-old was actually getting at. Dawn was right. There was something dark and sinister in the way Caleb felt about her, Buffy. Something in the way he looked at her, at times, that had frightened Buffy.

Of course, Buffy had passed off Caleb’s ‘adoration’ as natural desire and yes, even lust for her. This was to be expected in a man, wasn’t it? For him to look forward to the wedding night and all of the passion it was supposed to afford him? It was just that with Caleb, Buffy sometimes felt that this lust or desire as it were, went beyond the normal where they were concerned.

Caleb stared at Buffy as if he did not just want to make love to her. No, it was something more then that, she was sure. Almost as if Montgomery wanted to possess Buffy completely. Possess her body, her mind, her very soul and being. To top it off, Buffy had come to a startling realization. Caleb Montgomery was harboring a dark, sinister personality underneath his proper, respectable outer shell.

‘Almost as if he is two different men,’ Buffy realized in shock.

“Does your change of heart have something to do with that handsome man, Buffy?” Dawn’s question broke into Buffy’s reverie.

“That stranger, at the ‘social’ last Sunday? The one with the pretty blond hair?” The younger girl began to giggle, uncontrollably, surprising Buffy to no end.

“Dawn! How can you say that?” Buffy hissed in mock surprise, “I never even spoke to that man!”

‘At least not until today,’ Buffy added guiltily.

“You didn’t have to talk to each other,” Dawn continued to giggle merrily. “Just the way you two were looking at each other? That did all the talking for you! I’m surprised that old Caleb didn’t catch on to that! Course, Caleb is a bit thick in the head and…”

“Dawn! That’s enough!” Buffy used her best warning tone to her little sister, but she had to giggle herself. Just a little.

Once the two girls had calmed down a bit, Dawn scurried out of her little bed and hopped into Buffy’s. Buffy clasped the younger, beloved girl, to her, tightly.

“You know, you are pretty smart Dawn. For a little squirt that is,” Buffy chuckled softly as she stroked Dawn’s long dark hair.

“I’m not a squirt Buffy!” Dawn hissed back defensively. “I’m near as tall as you, and you’re five years older then me!”

“I know,” Buffy sighed deeply, closing her eyes. “You’re not a squirt honey. You’re a very wise, beautiful young lady, who’s growing up much too fast for my taste.”


Saturday had finally come to Redemption and Hank Summers had driven his oldest daughter to town. If Buffy’s father was a little surprised or confused by this repeat trip to town, in a weeks time? He said nothing about it. Buffy assumed her mother had spoken to Papa in some way, warning him to keep his questions to himself.

Buffy would be eternally grateful for her mother’s wisdom and advice.

The ‘talk’ with Reverend Snyder had not gone very well, sad to say. When Buffy vocalized her worries and concerns about her upcoming marriage to Caleb, one of the reverend’s best friends? The short, small framed minister had frowned and voiced his disappointment in Buffy.

At the moment, Buffy was hurrying to Willow’s little white framed house. The Osbournes lived in town, of course, their lovely little home was nearly attached to Willow’s parents’ house next door to them. Buffy was aware that Daniel would be at the bank, as usual, this Saturday morning. She needed to talk with Willow as soon as possible.

Willow would support Buffy’s decision regarding Caleb, no matter what it might be. Papa was at the feed store, conveniently, so Buffy was free to discuss her problem with her best friend.


Spike rode, stoically, atop his horse, Midnight. The all black stallion was the closest thing to a best friend that Spike had. Except for his cousin, Angel, that is.

It was Saturday morning in Redemption, Nebraska, and Spike, his father, Rupert and big old Angel were on their way to the bank. To rob it, that is. Graham, Xander, Riley and the others were already in town, prepared to join the three riders at their target, the Bank of Redemption.

As they rode along the main stretch of town, Spike glanced over at his imposing father, Rupert Giles. His dad had always been a bit of a puzzle to Spike really. At home, in England, Rupert had been a well-to-do man of means. Rupes had been a scholar and natural born poet really. Spike supposed that’s where he got his own love of the book from.

Now, however, Rupert had transformed himself into a hardened, almost brutal outlaw. Spike knew, of course, that it was the horrors of the past that had caused his dad to change himself into the man he had become today. Just as those same horrors that had plagued his father? They had helped change Spike into an outlaw and nomad also.

Out of the corner of his right eye, Spike caught the tell-tale flash of honey blond hair. ‘Buffy,’ Spike realized in surprise. ‘Oh good Christ,’ he groaned inwardly, ‘this can’t be good. She’s here? Here and now? She’ll know,’ he reasoned sadly. ‘Once we’ve robbed the bank? She’ll never give me another thought again. There'd only be feelings of hate and disgust, after today.’

Pushing his disappointment aside, Spike glared straight ahead and followed his father’s horse the rest of the way to the bank. Sure enough, Graham’s ugly horse was tied to the hitching post across the street, while Xander’s was hooked to a pole a bit further down. Gunn was no where to be seen, but that wasn’t unusual, the man could hide like no one else. Riley sat on a bench outside a saloon, complacent as always, almost asleep against the wall.

“Ford and Holden must be inside the bank already,” Angel grunted.

“Well, that’s how it works, isn’t it?” Rupert growled unnecessarily. “We’ve done this over a dozen times Angel,” the older man continued gruffly. “It's always worked before. Why change things?”

Angel looked a little stunned at his uncle’s verbal slap, but said nothing more. The trio rode up to the bank and tied their horses, loosely to the hitching rail in front of it.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Rupert ordered harshly. “Ethan Rayne’s money is just waiting for us.”

Spike’s thoughts traveled back to Buffy and what she would think about him when this was over. He felt his heart break into a million pieces, but he still followed his father and cousin into the waiting bank.


Angel was holding a gun to Daniel Osbourne’s red head, while barking orders to the rest of the men in the bank. Spike was always amazed that the bank employees and the customers never ever seemed to see this coming.

As he stood, his gun pointed at the bank manager, some bloke by the name of Travers, Spike thought about how bloody stupid these people really were.

‘Nearly ten blokes,’ Spike reasoned silently, ‘and pretty disreputable looking blokes at that,’ he continued his inner musings. ‘Nearly ten dusty blokes stroll into the only bank in town, almost at the same time and these locals never catch on, beforehand that is.’

This always puzzled Spike, completely. You’d think that someone, sometime in one of these towns, would catch on. That a little bell would go off in somebody’s head, in warning that is.

“Don’t even breathe,” Spike hissed at Travers as he cocked his gun and glared at the older man.

“Wouldn’t think of it,” the manager stuttered anxiously in reply.

Rupert Giles tossed Graham and Holden some bags of money. Xander grinned, amicably, at a male bank patron that he held captive with his own gun.

“Nice weather,” Xander observed to the terrified man with a friendly grin. The frightened young patron just nodded in agreement.

“You won’t get away with this O’Connor,” Daniel Osbourne stated defiantly. “If that’s your real name, anyway.”

“It’s not,” Angel chuckled in response. “It’s actually Angel Crawford and that’s my uncle Giles and his kid, Spike. Oh, Osbourne,” Angel continued evenly, “be sure when word of this gets back to that fuck, Ethan Rayne in England. Make sure he knows exactly who pulled this off and made it out of the state with his lousy cash. Be sure to let old Joseph Masters, back in his big fancy mansion in New York know too. Wire him right after you’re finished breaking the news to Rayne.”

“Oh, I will,” Daniel whispered harshly in reply.

“Let’s just shoot this moron!” Graham barked hoarsely as he pointed his gun at Daniel Osbourne. Graham was always itching to shoot ‘somebody’ somewhere.

“Back off, Graham,” Spike hissed with menace. “The man’s just doing his job. If you want to kill something, go back to Alabama and take out the bastards that burned your family’s farm to the ground!”

Graham gave Spike a contrite, but angry look. The truth was; neither man could stomach the other one. They merely tolerated each other.

“We’d better get moving Angel,” Gunn offered. “This is takin’ way too long, isn’t it?” The handsome black man glanced nervously at the bank’s front door.

“He’s right,” Rupert added off handedly, “this is taking way too long. Ford, Holden, take off first. We’ll follow, as usual and ride south, out of this bloody town. “Let’s get moving and…”

Suddenly, the front door of the bank flew open and Sheriff Wilkens burst into the room. He was followed by two deputies and Hank Summers of all people.

“Drop the guns boys,” Wilkens growled as he raised his own rifle at Angel and Rupert.

“Fuck you!” Graham roared as he fired a shot right at the law man’s chest. Wilkens never knew what hit him.


Buffy was sipping tea, with Willow, in the front parlor of the Osbourne home. She had been spilling her heart and soul out to the red head for the last half hour. Willow had merely listened, nodded her head in sympathy, but said nothing in response to Buffy’s heartfelt outpourings.

Finally, Willow began to offer her advice when she was interrupted by loud screaming and commotion outside of her front door.

“They’re robbing the bank!” A man wailed in horror. “A dozen of them, at least!" It’s the Crawford gang, I’m sure of it!”

“Oh my God! Daniel!” Willow yelped, fearfully, her face was more ashen then usual. The red-haired woman leapt up from her chair, spilling the hot tea down the front of her pretty dress.

Buffy jumped up after her, trying to grasp her friend’s slim arm. She was attempting to stop Willow from rushing out into the street and down to her husband.

“Willow! The baby! No!” Buffy screamed as she followed the quick-footed Willow out of the front door.

“Daniel!” Willow screeched again in terror. Buffy watched in horror as her dear friend fled through the little white gate of her front yard.

“Willow!” Buffy squealed again, following the red head out of the yard and into the street.

Both women froze in place, suddenly, as they watched a thundering herd of horses, headed their way. The entire ground shook with the pounding hooves of the hard ridden animals.

“The robbers,” Buffy gasped in shock as she stood, helplessly, next to Willow. It was when the first of the outlaws had ridden a little closer to Willow and herself that Buffy saw ‘him.’ She would recognize that silver blond hair anywhere.

“Oh my God!” Buffy gasped again, suddenly feeling even more ill then a moment ago. “It’s William,” she whispered, stunned. “He’s one of them!”

“Go inside,” Buffy ordered Willow, gruffly.

“But, Daniel,” Willow began…

“Go! Now Willow!” Buffy screamed harshly.


“Nice job Graham!” Angel hissed at the man riding next to him. “You have to go and shoot the fucking sheriff!”

Angel could barely be heard over the noise of their thundering horses or the screams and shouts of the townspeople. It always amazed him that a few brave morons in these towns actually had the balls to come out and watch them ride out. Almost like it was some kind of rare entertainment for the idiots!

“Oh fuck!” Spike roared as he caught up to his cousin. “Buffy,” he spat when he caught sight of his blond angel, just up ahead.

Spike was stunned when his cousin pulled up on the reins of his horse and slowed, just a bit. He could barely hear Angel’s voice over the mayhem about them, but he did, somehow.

“You want her?” Angel actually smirked at his cousin evilly. Angel was staring off at Buffy who still stood, frozen in place.

Spike just nodded, completely puzzled by where this conversation was going. And at this time in particular.

“Then take her,” Angel shrugged as he spurred his horse into going faster. “We’ll need a hostage anyway. Thanks to that moron, Graham. If the law man back there dies, cousin? They’ll hang us all, for sure. We might as well swing for something really important. Like a pretty girl, eh?” The black-haired larger man chuckled wickedly at his little cousin.

Angel kicked his horse’s huge flanks and rode ahead of Spike, who took about one second to ponder his cousin’s words. The blond outlaw slowed Midnight, briefly, just long enough to make up his mind.

When Spike reached the place where his Buffy stood, motionless in shock, he slowed Midnight to a near stop. Without a word, Spike leaned over and clasped his little angel with his left hand and gently as he could, yanked her up onto his horse. After he deposited Buffy onto Midnight’s saddle, he wrapped his arms about her tiny body, still hold of the reins.

With a quick, urgent kick to Midnight’s ribs, Spike spurred his beloved steed on. He followed the rest of his family and gang out of Redemption. Buffy, he noted, never said a word, she just sat, stone still in front of him as he spirited her out of town.


A/N: I hope that wasn’t too unrealistic or corny. I tried, really.

Anyway, next chapter Buffy will ‘say’ plenty to Spike. I assure you!

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION



Chapter 4: ‘Hostage?’


The gang of bank robbers, and Buffy, rode for what seemed like hours and hours. As if to confirm this notion, Buffy’s well shaped little bottom felt near raw with wear. In fact, if felt like it had before, after one of Papa’s well meted out tannings, from her childhood that is. Especially the time Buffy had burnt down the barn, accidentally of course and…

‘Wait a minute! Why the heck isn’t there a posse following us?’ She asked herself for the first time since William had snatched her up from in front of the Osbourne home.

It finally dawned on her, ‘because they’ve got you as a hostage, you dolt,’ she chided herself. ‘Sheriff Wilkens is one of Papa’s best friends and he’s not going to have anyone shoot at a bunch of desperados. Especially, when Hank Summers’ daughter is with them!'

William, to his credit, had not said a word since he had swept Buffy up from the street and deposited her in front of him on his horse. To return the favor, Buffy kept silent and gave no voice to her mounting anger and frustration stewing inside of her.

Not that it mattered much. When this band of wild ones finally stopped and took a rest? Buffy Summers intended on giving William ‘Galvaston’ if that really was his name, a piece of her very intelligent mind.

‘I hope the eventual posse from Redemption blows every one of these nasty brutes to hell in a hand basket!’ Buffy bit her bottom lip to kip from saying her wish out loud.

It did not help matters that Buffy was wearing a rather lovely little pale blue silk dress. She had chosen it, special, that very morning. Just in case she ‘did’ get to Redemption and happen to run into William. Before William and his cousin left on their supposed business.

‘Some business he had, out of town,’ Buffy snorted resentfully. ‘Outlaw business!’

Buffy was more then disgusted with herself, for her false vanity and pride. If she had not wanted to impress William, she would never have worn such a frilly dress into town. On a Saturday no less and to take council with her minister.

‘Waste of time,’ she chided herself again. ‘William, these second thoughts about Caleb and me. Everything was all messed up now, that was for sure.’ Buffy tried to fight the treacherous tears that now slipped down her flushed cheeks.

Suddenly, all of the young riders, and the older one, seemed to slow up and come to a stop. All at once they ceased their escape and halted in a heavy thicket of pine trees. In bluffs it seemed. Buffy couldn’t be sure as she had not paid attention, for a while as to where, exactly, they were going.

“We’ve lost them,” Rupert Giles stated the obvious. “If they ever followed us in the first place, eh?”

“I think they never left Redemption, really,” Angel interjected smugly. “Good thing I encouraged your son to take a hostage, and such a pretty one too, huh?” This Angel smirked at both Buffy and William, knowingly.

Buffy blushed when the entire group of outlaws laughed loudly, all of them except William that is. She realized that her first suspicions had to have been true; Sheriff Wilkens and any posse would hold back at least for a while. Now, because of herself, she had become the wild card of sorts in this whole mess.


‘Papa must have…’ Buffy left the thought unfinished when William slipped off of his horse and held his arms up to her.

“Get down,” Spike ordered the little angel, gruffly. He held up his long arms to her, hoping she would slide down into them. Of course, she didn’t.

Instead, Buffy Summers slid off of Midnight, quite abruptly and landed on her own two booted feet. Right down in front of Spike.

After shooting him a look to kill, Buffy strode past Spike and the others, never looking at any of them. She began to pace back and forth, a scant ten yards or so from Ford, who merely watched her with a look of amusement.

Finally, Buffy stopped her pacing and glared at all of them, Ford in particular. “What are you looking at?” She hissed with venom.

“A beautiful, angry girl,” Ford responded with a sly chuckle.

“Drop dead!” Buffy spat at the dark haired young man, then glared at Spike angrily.

“Wow, Spike,” Ford laughed merrily, “your girl has lots of fire in her!”

“I am not ‘his’ girl!” Buffy growled in a menacing tone. “I am engaged to Caleb Montgomery, of the Indiana Montgomerys I might add. He’s a fine, upstanding man and…”

“A complete ponce,” Spike interjected as he stalked over to Buffy and placed himself right in front of her.

Without missing a beat, Buffy pulled back her right arm, made a fist and punched Spike right in his nose. To her credit, she did cause the blond outlaw to fall back a bit, in shock.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Spike roared in pain as he felt his nose to see the damage to it. He glared at the spitfire little blond in front of him.

“For taking me hostage!” Buffy screamed right up into his handsome face. Her face was hot with anger and she felt a horrible headache coming on. “For putting me in danger; stealing me away from my home, family and my fiancé!”

Buffy conveniently forgot, momentarily, that she had every intention of breaking off her engagement to Caleb. In fact, she was supposed to be telling Caleb, this very afternoon, that she no long wished to marry him.

‘Maybe this hostage thing isn’t such a bad idea,’ Buffy reasoned. ‘At least I get out of facing Caleb and…what am I thinking!’


A tall, older man sauntered up to Buffy and stopped right in front of her. She noticed that he had the kindest, warmest blue eyes and realized that this must be William’s father, no doubt about that.

“My son felt it necessary to ‘take’ you Miss Summers,” the older man said in a British, genteel voice. “Although even if we had not of needed a hostage, I’ve a feeling Spike would have considered snatching you up anyway.”

Even though this ‘gentlemen’ smiled warmly at Buffy, she couldn’t help but shudder in fear. Then, it dawned on her, finally…

“Oh my, you are the Crawford Gang, are you not?” She asked the older man, but glared at William instead. “Angel Crawford?” She directed her fiery green eyes at the tall dark man, William’s cousin? “And you,” she hissed as she strode right up to the blond William once again. “You ‘are’ Spike Giles and he’s your father, isn’t he?”

Spike tore his blue eyes from Buffy’s angry green ones and focused on his booted feet. He could only nod, slowly, to confirm her suspicions.

“Oh Lord,” Buffy gasped. “Why would you take a hostage?” She suddenly asked, suspiciously.

“Because that stupid fuck over there,” Angel hissed as he pointed at another tall, fair haired young man, “he went and shot the sheriff! We’re not going to hang for a law man’s murder and since you were outside, right in view, well? I told my little cousin here to just take you. He wanted you anyway so…”

“You shot Uncle Richard?” Buffy yelped loudly in a high pitched voice and began to cry. “That ‘law man’ as you so coldly put it, is my father’s best friend!” She began to cry, uncontrollably and threw herself down onto the nearest large rock she could find.

“Oh bloody hell,” Spike hissed loudly as he hurried to comfort his Buffy.

“Oh fuck!” Angel spat, exasperated already with the whole situation.

“Angel! William!” Mr. Giles roared, “Apologize to Miss Summers, this instant. For your rough, crude language in front of her.”

Angel cursed, under his breath, but apologized softly, “I am sorry Miss Summers. For my crude language.”

Buffy stopped wailing, for a second, to give the tall dark haired man a wide-eyed gaze. Her chin still quivered from unwept tears, however.

Spike kneeled down, in front of Buffy and took both her tiny hands in his, gently. He gazed deeply into her wet, bright green eyes and whispered, “I am so very sorry, Buffy luv. For my crude language and about your Da’s friend.”

Before she could respond, Buffy burst out in a new torrent of tears and buried her face into William’s shirt covered chest. She began to sob again, even when William wrapped his long arms about her.


‘Meanwhile…back in Redemption’


“What do you mean they took my daughter hostage?” Hank Summers was bellowing at, of all people, Willow Rosenberg.

“We ran out, into the street,” Willow whispered, still in shock from earlier that day. “Buffy and me, we went outside when we heard the bank was being robbed. Buffy, she made me go back inside when we saw the robbers coming towards us, on their horses and all. She…”

Willow choked out the last sentence then began to weep softly. Daniel Osbourne took his wife in his arms and glared at both Hank Summers and Caleb Montgomery, who had now joined them in their home.


“I think you need to go find Buffy,” Daniel spat impatiently. “Quit hanging around here and grilling my wife,” the short man hissed defensively. “It’s not Willow’s fault that Buffy was taken. Who knew who these guys really were, Hank. Mitch? Scott? What are you going to do about this?”

Daniel directed his questions at the two, rather young, inept deputies that were standing next to Hank and Caleb. Sheriff Wilkens was at Doc Samuels place, hanging on for dear life. Or so they had heard.

“We’re getting’ a posse together Daniel,” Mitch spoke up. “But it’s a bit risky, with Miss Summers a hostage and all. Not quite sure how to go about this.” The older deputy glanced at Hank Summers, sheepishly, knowing that the man’s daughter had probably already been ‘spoiled’ in that way and all. Who knew what these desperados might do to a young, gentle lady like Buffy Summers.

“In fact,” Mitch piped up again, anxiously, “we’ve wired Lincoln, called the Marshall there to Redemption. He’ll bring the best posse, good trackers and…”

“Trackers!” Caleb Montgomery bellowed in disbelief. “So you think that these fiends will take my Elizabeth with them? Completely? Where ever it is they’re going?” The tall black-haired man glowered at the two deputies in disgust.

“Well, they took her from her home, right? I don’t expect they have any intentions of releasing her too soon!” Scott retorted abruptly. The younger deputy had never cared much for Caleb Montgomery. It was probably because he, Scott Hope, had coveted Buffy Summers for his own wife.

“No telling what they’ll do to my little angel, Elizabeth,” Caleb opined in a gruff voice. His dark eyes were narrowed into slits. He glared again, but this time at poor Willow.

“Why did they not take you Willow?” Caleb suddenly asked, suspiciously. “You were there, why…”

“Leave Willow alone, Caleb,” Daniel growled menacingly back at the larger man. “Buffy had sent her inside by the time the robbers…”

“They ‘knew’ each other,” Willow interjected with her nervous stutter. All the men present just stared, in open-mouthed confusion at the little red-headed Mrs. Osbourne.

“I, I mean,” she continued nervously, her face bright red. “I mean that Buffy and this Spike fellow? They ‘noticed’ each other, last Sunday at the social and…”

“Are you trying to tell me that my beloved fiancé allowed those brutes to take her with them?” Caleb bellowed again and clenched his fists together. “You’re lying!” He finished with a loud, enraged roar.

Daniel leapt up from his chair, next to Willow’s and got right up into Caleb’s face. “Never call my wife a liar, Montgomery,” he ordered in a threatening voice.

“Daniel, please,” Willow cried as she took his hand in hers. “I did not mean that Buffy allowed herself to be taken Caleb,” she continued quietly. “I just think, feel really, that this Spike means her no real harm. I can’t say why I feel that way, I just do.” Willow blushed bright red to match her red locks.


Buffy had cried all of her tears out, into William’s black shirt of all things. Now, she just sobbed, softly, and sniffed every moment or so against William’s chest.

“It’s okay, luv,” Spike cooed into Buffy’s little ear. He felt like shit, for the robbery; taking her from her home and family; being who he was, in general.

“Your, your men,” Buffy muttered between sniffles, “they didn’t shoot anyone else, did they? Daniel Osbourne, he’s okay, right?”

She pulled back her head and gazed into Spike’s eyes, searching for the truth. William’s relieved look told her that no one else was harmed in the robbery.

“No, kitten,” he replied softly, “was the sheriff only, got shot and all. He was still breathing when we left.” Spike looked over at Graham and shot him a murderous glare.

“We better get going,” Angel mumbled half-heartedly. “They won’t wait forever, to send a posse I mean. Nogales is a long way off and…”

“Right,” Spike nodded, his gaze back on Buffy’s tear-stained face.. “Do you think you can ride again, Princess,” he asked Buffy gently.

“Yes, I suppose,” she replied groggily. All of the upheaval and emotion of past few hours had taken its toll on the young woman.

“William?” Buffy asked in a childish voice, “Where is Nogales?”


A/N: This was a real, real tough chapter to write. I don’t know why, it just was.

For anyone reading this and who are interested, Nogales, Arizona, is town located on the Arizona/Mexico border. The border runs right through the town and to the south, it’s Nogales, Mexico.

This should give readers a hint as to what’s in the gang’s plans for their futures.

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette

Chapter 5:

"Where is Nogales?" Buffy asked Spike again, noting that the blond outlaw could not meet her gaze with his intense blue eyes.

"Border town," Spike replied abruptly as he stared off past Buffy's slim right shoulder.

"A border town?" Buffy squeaked nervously. "As in a Nebraska/Wyoming border town?" She tried to the mask the hopeful tone in her voice.

"As in the Arizona Territory and Mexico border, Buffy," Spike mumbled quickly. "Now," he continued with authority, "give us your foot, Princess."

What could Buffy do? She did as she was told and turned to grab the horse?s saddle while William took hold of her booted right foot. After he had lifted her up by foot and waist onto his horse, he pulled himself up behind her once again.

"Summers," Buffy sighed inwardly and flinched when William placed his hands on the reins once more. Around her tense body, of course. "You are in a hard, bad place girl," she groaned silently.

Spike and Buffy rode on, following the rest of the gang in total silence. "This is going to be a long, long ride," Spike sighed inwardly. "You really are a piece of shit, Giles," Spike chastised himself, silently. "You had to drag poor Buffy into this mess and just because you want her for yourself. Nothing to do with a real hostage at all," he noted guiltily. "You didn't need to bloody hoist her up onto your horse and."

The gang of outlaws, Spike and Buffy included, must have ridden for hours before they stopped again. It was well past sundown and the plains were enveloped in the deep darkness of night. Buffy realized that again, the group had come to some kind of bluffs. They rode a ways, up the green hillside and finally came to a kind of dale, surrounded by pine trees.

Buffy spied a rather unobvious cabin or shelter of some sort, set right in the middle of the little clearing. She tensed, realizing that this must be the destination, at least for tonight.

"What's this?" Buffy asked William suspiciously when they all stopped next to the cabin.

"This,"Spike muttered softly, "is home. At least for the next couple of days that is."

"Oh," Buffy murmured, still overwhelmed by all the drama of past day.

Spike slid off of Midnight and then turned to help Buffy down from his horse. This time, he did not make the mistake of waiting for her to slip into his outstretched arms. He reached up, clasped Buffy by her waist and pulled her down into his eager arms.

"Let me go," Buffy hissed as she struggled in William's strong arms.

"Doubtful," Spike chuckled wickedly with one of his smirks.

"You'll all be hung for this. You know that, right?" Buffy frowned even as she stated the warning.

"We all have to die Buffy," Spike replied evenly, "might as well die happy. With a beautiful girl like you in my arms and."

Buffy yanked herself away from William and pushed past him, into the rather poor little cabin. She had no idea what to expect in that abode, but right now it seemed better to be inside. Away from William Giles and his strong arms; blue eyes and oh yeah, his masculine scent. It was a scent that Buffy had never noticed on any other man and for some reason, it confused her.

Once she had stepped inside the rough cabin, Buffy's worst fears were realized. It was dark, dank and a more then unclean.

The first thing she noticed was a young man, a boy really, sitting on a rough hewn chair, at a table. At first glance, Buffy could tell the boy had to be related to the one they called Angel. He was a younger, smaller version of the outlaw. Too old to be Angel Crawford's son, the boy must have been about thirteen or so? Perhaps this boy was Angel's younger brother?

'"Hello," the boy smiled shyly at Buffy. "Who are you?"

"Buffy Summers," she spat in response, suddenly sorry she was being so curt with this mere boy.

"He's not much older then Dawn," Buffy realized. "Probably not even in this on his own accord," she reasoned.

"What's your name? How old are you?" She nearly grilled the young boy.

"Connor Crawford," the shaggy haired youth answered with a wide grin. 'I'm Angel's brother and I'm just thirteen," he confirmed.

"Connor," came Spike's deep voice, "this is Miss Summers. Treat her with respect, here me?"

"Yes sir. Is Miss Summers your girl, Spike?" Connor blushed bright red, but his wide grin remained intact Buffy noticed.

"No! I am not 'his' girl!" Buffy answered before Spike could. "I am a hostage, however," she finished with a snort.

"A hostage?" Connor asked in disbelief. His brown eyes were wide in fear and disbelief. "Why do we need a hostage cousin?"

"Because Graham went and mucked everything up, that's why!" Spike growled angrily. "Besides I?"

"According to your Uncle Rupert," Buffy interjected, "your wonderful cousin here would have taken me anyway. Seems he wants to?"

"Go out and see Angel," Spike ordered the boy gruffly. "Where's Jesse," he added curtly.

"Out back. He's teaching Robin how to string a bow and arrow." Connor replied before he scurried out the front door of the cabin.

"So," Buffy finally sighed after the boy had gone, "there are more of you? And a young boy in the mix?"

"Fraid so," Spike answered with a shrug of his shoulders. "Connor?s my little cousin, Angel's brother. Jesse is Xander's little brother and Robin are just, well, he's Robin."

Buffy shook her blond head and flopped down on the chair that Connor had vacated. "And you do not see anything wrong with bringing a thirteen-year-old boy into this mess?" She gave William an accusing glare even as she glanced about the rustic cabin. Frankly, Buffy was near starving by this time and wondered if these hooligans intended on feeding her anytime soon?

"Of course I see something wrong with bringing a youngster like Connor into this," Spike hissed defensively. "It's not my choice. Angel's in charge of his brother, not me or Dad."

"Convenient," Buffy snorted as she stood and wandered over to the wood burning stove. There was a huge pot of something cooking on top of that stove and it did smell delicious to her.

"What's cooking?" Buffy asked innocently, stopping to sniff the wonderful aroma of the cast iron pot. She did truly try and be unobvious, but the aroma from the pot was making her drool, most unladylike and such.

'I am nearly starved," she realized. "I need food and now!"

Spike smiled as he watched his angel try not to drool over the apparent stew on the stove. Some deep evil inside of him made him want to prolong her hunger, make her beg maybe, to have a bite to eat and?

"Hungry Princess?" Spike whispered seductively as he narrowed the space between him and Buffy.

"Uh huh," Buffy replied in a hungry daze. "Very," she added shyly as she eyed the pot with longing.

"Well, then we must feed you," Spike chuckled deeply. "He took Buffy by the arm and set her back down on the chair, then pulled a bowl out of the cupboard. Next he set ladled some stew into the bowl and cut a piece of bread for Buffy. After he set the food in front of her, Spike did the same for himself.

He sat down, in the chair next to Buffy and nodded at her. "So eat," he ordered simply.

"I need to wash up," Buffy mumbled shyly. Her face was a hot, bright red by now. "I'm covered in dust and all," her voice trailing off to silence.

Spike nearly leapt up and dug around in the cupboard. He brought out a huge wash tub and winked at Buffy before heading out the back door of the cabin.

Buffy realized that this whole cabin thing was set in place and planned. The young boy, Connor, and the other two men? They were left here to watch and wait for the whole gang to join them.

In just a few moments, Spike returned with a tub full of water and a clean looking rag of some sort. He placed the tub on the counter and beckoned Buffy to wash up as she wished.

After she turned up her dress sleeves, Buffy began to wash vigorously with the milled soap bar and water in the tub. She splashed the tepid water onto her hands, arms and face, as lady like as possible.

Spike watched Buffy wash her hands, arms and face, daintily. As he gazed at this wonderful woman cleaned herself as best as she could; clear pictures of a possible future with her passed through his mind.

Before his eyes, he watched his Buffy as she washed her dusty body as well as she could, well, clothed that is. Spike saw visions of Buffy at 'their' own kitchen sink, of their own home. She would clean her hands and prepare their dinner, maybe a tot or two scrambling about her skirts as she worked. He would be tired and worn from a hard day's work, on a farm perhaps? Their farm; Buffy and his together.

"Thank you," Buffy snapped as she dried her hands on the clean towel Spike had placed on the counter next to the tub of water. "I needed that," she sighed wearily.

"You're beautiful," Spike suddenly blurted out to Buffy. He had not meant to vocalize his feelings, but it just seemed so damned natural to do it right now.

Buffy seemed totally stunned into silence, but she rallied back, quickly. "You should see me at my best. When I am not being held hostage and I have a clean change of clothes," she snipped coyly at the blond outlaw.

This caused both to the blonds to laugh, compatibly enough. Then Buffy remembered that she was not here by choice and flopped down on the kitchen chair. Without further ado, she tore into the stew with relish.

"This is good!" Buffy cried in near disbelief. "Do you think Connor made this?"

"Probably," Spike drawled slowly as he watched her eat. He appreciated her hunger and he was so happy that she was eating so eagerly. Deciding to join her, Spike began to eat his own portion of the stew, stopping only to cut a piece of bread for them both.

'Thank you," Buffy said politely as she bit into the bread with gusto.

"You're welcome Princess," Spike whispered as he ate his own supper, but watched her intently. It was nice to see a lady like Buffy enjoy her supper. The simple act of Buffy's happily supping brought him some sense of delight, and relief.

Angel and Xander took that moment to stumble into the simple kitchen room. Xander took in the cozy little scene between Spike and Buffy and grinned amicably at his blond friend.

'You two seem happy," Xander chuckled as he lit a rolled cigarette and took a long drag. "Do you mind Miss Summers?" The large Xander asked sincerely of Buffy. "The smoke I mean?"

"No,"Buffy muttered with a blush as she spooned the delicious stew into her mouth. "Not at all, smoke away," she added quickly. The remark about her and William being 'cozy' seemed to unnerve Buffy for some reason.

"She'll need more clothes," Spike stated matter-of-factly. "It'll be a long trip for Buffy. Do you think Connor could lend her some clean duds? He is about as close to Buffy's tiny frame and all." He directed his question at Angel.

"Me" Wear a boy's clothing!" Buffy gasped at the suggestion, as if William had told her ride naked into the mountains!

"You'll need something besides?" Spike began, but he was cut off by Angel.

"I bought some new duds, for Darla, in St. Louis. When we passed through there on the way up to Redemption," Angel informed the couple. "They're probably just about the right size for Miss Summers here," he added with a grin. "Not like Darla needs them too soon anyway. She's five months gone now, with our first child," he finished proudly to Buffy.

"Darla?" Buffy asked with a raised brow.

"My wife," Angel replied in a warm tone. "She's with Xander's wife, Anya, in Nogales, waitin' on us."

Buffy flinched at the name 'Nogales'once again as she remembered that this border town was where they were headed. She brushed off her qualms and said quietly to Angel and Xander, "your wives must be special women. For them to love their husbands so much. This life of yours and theirs must be difficult and it would take a special woman to love you despite the hardness of it."

When she had finished her verbal thoughts, Buffy glanced over at William and noticed he was staring at her. There was a look of awe on his handsome face.

"They are special Miss Summers," Xander responded reverently. "My Anya and Darla Crawford are wonderful, strong women."

It was then that Rupert Giles, followed by Connor and a new man entered the cabin?s small kitchen. The new man, a younger, smaller-framed version of Xander, must have been this Jesse fellow that was mentioned earlier.

"Damn Spike!" Jesse yelped when he spied Buffy. "This is a hostage! You sure know how to pick a hostage!"

Spike shot Jesse a murderous look, growling softly in his throat. He responded in a low, warning voice, "yeah, a hostage, mate. But 'my' hostage so don't be going and getting any ideas."

"Ethan Rayne must have been notified by now, eh Spike," Rupert broke into the little male drama that was playing out. "I wonder what his bloody ugly face looked like when he found out 'we' stole his money from him. Again." The older man chuckled gleefully and reached over to take a piece of cut bread for himself.

As he munched on the bread, Rupert eyed Buffy, thoughtfully. Buffy, eyed Rupert right back, her brows furrowed in her own thoughts.

Finally, she took the opportunity to ask the older Mr. Giles exactly 'why'Ethan Rayne seemed so important to all of them.

"Who is Ethan Rayne to you?" Buffy asked Rupert, rather boldly at that. "I know he is some Lord or something, back in England, but what is he to all of you?" She asked him, her head tilted to one side in question.

Rupert tossed the uneaten bread back on the table and snorted, "He is a monster, Miss Summers. Rayne is the monster that hides under my bed at night." With that, the older man turned and strode out of the kitchen.

"I am sorry," Buffy murmured shyly as she glanced at William. She could tell by the look in his eyes that this whole Ethan Rayne subject was basically taboo. "I should not have been so bold as to ask your father that question and?"

"It's all right Buffy, luv," Spike whispered softly, patting her slim arm with his left hand. "You got dragged into this mess, by me, and you have every right to ask certain questions. It's just that we're not ready, yet, to give you all the answers. Okay?"

"Okay," Buffy nodded slowly. She suddenly yawned, much to her embarrassment and tried to cover her mouth quickly. This brought a delighted smirk to William?s face and caused her to blush, horribly.

"Tired, yeah?" Spike asked Buffy unnecessarily. "Time for bed, eh?" He winked at the beauty next to him, hoping to cause another of those delicious blushes of hers. Happily, for him, it worked.

"Yes," she stammered shyly. "Actually, I am exhausted," she finished with another blush.

"We all are," Graham spat as he now entered the kitchen, followed by Gunn, Holden and Riley.

Buffy gave this Graham a nasty look, considering he was the one who shot Uncle Richard. Graham glared back at Buffy, but his look wasn?t nasty at all. It was rather more of a leer, Buffy noted.

"Let's go, Princess," Spike ordered as he stood up and took Buffy by her arm.

"Go?" Buffy asked nervously, glancing over at the other men in the room. "Go where?"

"To bed,"Spike chuckled merrily. "There's exactly three sleeping rooms in this dump and you and me get one of them." He tried very hard not to laugh out loud, or hear the sounds the other men were making in the room.

"I cannot sleep in a room with you!" Buffy cried indignantly. "I am an unmarried woman! An engaged unmarried woman and I am not engaged to you!" She pulled her arm away from William and just stared at the insane outlaw, in shock. Buffy tried very hard not to hear the loud laughter and whistles coming from the other men in the room.

"Well," Spike scratched the back of this head, lightly and pretended to think about what she had said. "I suppose you could bunk in one of the other rooms, with five or so of them?" He used his thumb to point at Graham in particular when he made his little angel this newest offer.

"No!" Buffy screeched in outraged alarm. "I am not going to 'bunk' with any of you"

"Now, Buffy," Spike said gently, trying not to smirk in her face. "We can't just let you sleep in a room by yourself, can we? You might get it in that pretty head of yours to up and take off in the middle of the night. Get lost out there in the wilds and maybe even run into a bear, or coyote. Or a wolf?" The blond outlaw grinned at Buffy, his brows raised up suggestively.

"You could tie her to the bed, in the one room I mean," Connor offered gallantly.

"I could," Spike chuckled as he eyed his tasty little Buffy, wickedly. "Or," he continued matter-of-factly, "I could let her sleep in the bed, rope free, and just sleep on the floor. A proper distance away from the bed, I assure you Miss Buffy." He grinned widely at the blond girl, delighting again in the scarlet red blush on her pretty face.

"I'll be good, William," she whispered, not looking at anyone at all. "If you make a big promise to stay on the floor, where you belong I will be good and not give anyone any trouble. Just please, do not tie me up. I do not think I could take being tied up like some animal."

Buffy finally met William's intense blue-eyed gaze with her own. She noted that his beautiful eyes held some sort of sympathy in them for her plight. Suddenly, Buffy realized something very; very important...she could trust him. William Giles could be trusted by her. For the first time in some twenty-four hours, Buffy finally felt somewhat 'safe'.


A/N: I really let my fictions slide for a while. We are remodeling and it?s kicking our a**es!

I am going to post another chapter of this fiction by tomorrow night. Actually, it's pretty much written and I will definitely give Buffy some insight to what motivates Spike, his father, Angel and some of the other outlaws.

Oh, and just how 'will' our couple make out in that separate bedroom by themselves???

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 6: ‘Two-Legged Wolves; Oh My!’


Summary: Buffy, through her own foolishness, escalates her predicament. Spike, ala William the Bloody Poet, spouts poetry for Buffy! Spike reveals a bit about what drives Rupert and him to be outlaws. Later, Buffy finds out more of what Spike has in mind for her and she asks Connor lots of questions.

A/N: This chapter was supposed to be more enlightening, but it got so long and I thought I’d better end it when I did.

Thanks, spuf


Buffy scampered into the small sleeping room that had been chosen for her. William, she noted, followed right after her, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“Could you please turn around, then,” Buffy asked the blond man in her hushed voice, unable to look William in the face. “I really need to take off my dress, it’s filthy and I cannot sleep…”

“Of course, kitten,” Spike replied, a slight bit of mirth in his tone, “I’d rather watch you, but if you insist. I’ll play the gentleman and turn my back.”

‘That’ll at least get you a slap you stupid git,’ he chastised himself again. ‘When will you learn to shut your mouth Giles!’

After he had turned his back to her, Buffy slipped out of the dress, ignoring the smart remark he had given her.

‘I should slap him, and hard,’ she thought, totally miffed by now. ‘Except I have already disrobed and do not dare to approach him in my under things.’ Again, she blushed profusely at the thought of sharing a room with this stranger. Even if this outlaw was sleeping on the floor.

‘He had better stay on that floor!’ Buffy fumed silently. ‘If he strays within five feet of that bed…’ She glanced at the uncomfortable looking bed, warily. ‘Perhaps it’s I that should sleep on the floor,’ she wondered briefly. ‘I just might be more comfortable on the hard wood beneath me as that awful looking thing!’

Instead, Buffy scurried into the bed, pulling the covers well over her body and right up to her neck. Clearing her throat in a ladylike way, Buffy alerted William that it was acceptable for him to turn around now.

When Spike turned, he had to keep from laughing at the scene before him. Buffy was covered, completely in sheets and blankets, her golden head peeping up at the top of the covers. Actually, it was the back of her head that stared at him, not her pretty face.

‘She’s behaving just like a virgin bride on her wedding night,’ Spike mused. ‘She ‘is’ a virgin you idiot!’ He reminded himself at the thought. ‘At least, I’m pretty sure she is,’ he nodded silently.

This little delight in the makeshift bed had better damned well be a virgin, Spike told himself. If anyone was going to deflower his future mate it was him; not some useless ponce like that ridiculous Montgomery arse. Not any other man would ever touch his Buffy like that; whether she liked it or not. Spike had made up his mind, back in Redemption, that Buffy was the woman for him and that was that. Pretty little Buffy would just have to ‘come around’ sooner or later to Spike’s way of thinking.

Spike sighed heavily and laid out the blankets he’d grabbed from Connor earlier. The floor surely seemed foreign, unappealing and quite empty to him. He wished that he could just crawl into that bed, with Buffy and spoon her little knicker-covered body to his.

After he had stripped down to his shorts, Spike slipped under the makeshift bed on the floor and settled in. As best he could that is. He sighed again, loudly, and reached for his nearby pants, pulling an already rolled up cigarette out of the pocket.

“Buffy,” Spike whispered softly into the darkness, “do you mind if I smoke a cigarette, luv?”

“No,” she mumbled in a low, hushed voice. “My Papa smokes a pipe all the time. It might comfort me to smell the familiar aroma of smoke,” she finished with a slight whimper.

‘Great,’ Spike mumbled grumpily. ‘Now I feel guilty for smoking, just because ‘her’ Da smokes a pipe and it puts her in mind of him.’ He lit the smoke anyway and took a long, deep drag.

“William?” Buffy whispered after a few moments of silence. “May I ask you something? Will you give me an honest answer, please?”

“Yes, Buffy,” Spike sighed again, “ask away and I’ll try to answer you, best as I can.”

“Are you going to ‘force’ me William?” Buffy choked out the necessary question, even though it near killed her from shame to do so.

That very question had weighed heavily on her mind. Ever since the moment William had swept her off of her feet and onto his horse that morning in Redemption. His answer would terrify her even further, of that she was fairly certain, but she had to know.



“Force you?” William asked huskily. “Force you in what way, Princess? Seems I’ve already forced you somehow. I mean to come with us, against your will and all. I’m sorry Buffy, truly. It was me that dragged you into this mess. But, I’m not sorry you’re here with me, now.”

“No, I mean really, you know, ‘force’ me into you know? Force yourself on me? In ‘that’ way,” Buffy’s voice sounded weak and strangled, even to herself.

Spike groaned inwardly, but took a deep, calming breath and swallowed very hard. “Buffy,” he began with a voice tinged with some regret. “I’m not going to lie to you, Princess,” he continued with hesitation.

“I won’t tell you pretty lies that I haven’t thought about ‘taking’ you, by force I mean. But, and I mean this,” he rambled on, “I could never force you into something like that. For a lot of reasons; mostly because I want you and me to make love, eventually that is. I don’t want to have to force you Buffy. I want you, yes, but not at the risk of destroying any future we could have together. I’ve seen what rape does to a woman, Buffy, and I don’t want you to go through that. Not even by me.”

Buffy cringed in horror at William’s brutal honesty, but she had to ask him more questions. She supposed it was her curious nature, something she was not proud of, of course. However, Buffy forged on and asked the next series of questions, hopefully in a calm, demur manner.

“Are you saying that you have witnessed a rape William?” Buffy choked out the question rather then asked it. “You, or your men out there? Have any of you…”

“No Buffy,” Spike responded quickly and with great determination. “I have never witnessed a rape, nor any of the others,” he added. “Not any of them, not that I know of, anyway. It was the aftermath of rape, the destruction physically and mentally. That I saw, sweetheart,” he continued sorrowfully. “I saw what it did to two women. Me mum and big sister that is.”

Buffy gasped in horrified shock at William’s revelation. She felt tiny, hot tears in the corners of her eyes, but tried to brush them away.

‘Oh God,’ Buffy gasped again, this time in silence, ‘his mother? His sister? Is this what drives Rupert Giles and his son so? And do I have the right to ask him this?’

“Buffy?” Spike called out, softly, into the darkness. “Are you still with me luv?”

“Yes,” Buffy whispered in response. “I just…”

“Its part of those answers, Princess,” Spike blurted out suddenly. “The ones I’m not sure me or my dad are ready to give you yet. About me mum and sister, Lord Rayne and why we do what we do.”

“Okay,” Buffy replied in a shaky voice. “I will wait until you wish to tell me more William. I am sorry for being so bold as to bring this up. It is just that I am afraid, William, very afraid for myself. My family back home and well, for a lot of reasons.”

“You don’t have to be afraid of me Buffy,” Spike murmured back to her. “But…”

“But?” Buffy asked warily of the handsome, dangerous man on the floor, just a few feet from her bed. She raised herself up on one elbow and tried to see his face in the darkness of the room.

“The others, well, Graham and maybe Holden,” Spike muttered from the darkness. “I’m not so sure about them Buffy,” he continued in a warning tone. “Holden is okay, most of the time? But he follows Graham around like a bloody puppy. Graham is a loose canon, Buffy, always has been. He saved Angel’s life once, a couple of years ago and basically? He’s untouchable as far as Angel is concerned. I just want you to be careful of them, the both of them. Graham and Holden that is. Just stick by me, okay? I’ll make sure they don’t bother you.”

“Kay,” Buffy mumbled nervously as she lay back down, her back prone on the bed. Buffy felt better, somewhat, but she was still deathly afraid of the fate that awaited her.

“Will?” Buffy broke the gentle silence between them. Her tone sounded terse and more then a little anxious, even to herself. For some reason, she simply could not stop talking, no matter how weary she was.

“Luv?” Spike asked as he took another drag on his cigarette.

“I have never slept in a room with a man,” Buffy stammered in a childish voice. “Not since I was a little girl and I would climb into my mother and father’s big bed. After a nightmare, usually, or maybe a thunderstorm. I would rush to lie next to Mama. Papa would usually recite a nursery rhyme, or maybe hum a song to me. Just to relax and soothe me,” she finished, past embarrassed by now.

“Well,” Spike drawled, comfortingly, “I can’t think of a song that’s proper for your ears, Buffy. You’re a little too old for most nursery rhymes, but I could recite a poem or two for you, yeah?”

“Oh, please do,” Buffy pleaded softly, “I would love to hear some poetry Will!”

“Okay then,” Spike stated quietly, “I’ve a poem that puts me in mind of you Princess.” He lay, still, for just a moment as he tried to recall the entire stanza of the poem he had in mind. Then, he began to recite the prose; his voice was tender, almost melodic:





(Spike’s Poem)


‘It lies not in our power to love or hate,
For will in us is overruled by fate.
When two are stripped, long ere the course begin;
We wish that one should love, the other win;
And one especially do we affect,
Of two gold ignots, like in end respect:

The reason no man knows, let it suffice,
What we behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?


“That was lovely,” Buffy sighed dreamily from her post in the lumpy, ugly bed on which she lay.

“Do you know more?” she asked innocently.

“Lots more,” Spike chuckled proudly. “In fact, I’ve another by the same poet, Christopher Marlowe was his name. Do you know of him?”

“No,” Buffy shook her head sadly. “I do not, but he sounds wonderful. Please tell me about him Will.”

Spike felt a hard, but pleasant tug at his hardened heart. ‘She calls me Will,’ he thought happily. He liked that, that his Buffy felt comfortable enough with him to call him something like Will.

“Well, not much to tell about old Marlowe, luv,” he began quietly. “The man was a genius of a writer, but unfortunately sweet,” Spike continued sadly, “Mr. Marlowe was assumed murdered. At a very young age.”

“Oh no,” Buffy whimpered again, saddened by the sorrowful tale of Mr. Christopher Marlowe.

“Yeah, fraid so,” Spike continued with a sigh. “But he wrote a lot of prose before his untimely death. Would you like to hear some more, sweetness?”


“Yes,” Buffy stated firmly. “I would like very much to hear more of the unfortunate Mr. Marlowe’s works.”

Spike chuckled lowly then began to recite Christopher Marlowe’s great poem ‘The Passionate Shepard To His Love’


‘Come live with me and be my love,
And we will the pleasure prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field
And…’

Spike heard the tell tale sign of Buffy’s little mewls of slumber. His golden girl was sound asleep in the makeshift bed.

“Sweet dreams Princess,” Spike whispered tenderly to the sleeping young woman so close, yet so far from him.

‘This is going to be a long, long night,’ Spike sighed deeply. He closed his eyes and tried to rest.


Buffy woke with a start and bolted up from the unfamiliar bed she was lying in. She glanced, anxiously, out of the dingy window of the small room. The moonlight spilled through that dusky window and over the bed she had slept in. Following the moon’s light, Buffy’s gaze fell on William, asleep on the floor, not six feet from her.

The moonlight played on the blond man’s chiseled facial features, making him look like some angel to Buffy.

‘Angel indeed,’ Buffy snorted as she studied William’s face and upper body. ‘More a devil on earth,’ she reasoned. Still, with his muscular, and dare she say it, bare chest exposed above the blankets that lay over him? William did look like some painting from an art book; one of Mama’s that she kept in the attic above their house.

“Oh dear Lord,” Buffy whispered in shock as she perused William’s handsome face, so relaxed in slumber. Her thoughts confused and upset her greatly. Buffy did not like the fact that she found William Giles so very, attractive. The walls of the small room seemed to close about her, cutting off any fresh air to her lungs.

“I have got to get out of here,” she assured herself. “If only to go and relieve myself, outside in the woods.”

That was when a sudden, unpleasant thought hit Buffy, full force. What would happen, if this trip with these outlaws lasted for any length of time? Apparently, William had not inclination to let her go and if she knew her geography? The Arizona/Mexico border had to be a thousand miles from where they were now.

‘Oh dear Lord!’ Buffy groaned her face hot with shame. ‘What happens when I have my monthly! How am I going to get through that? With him?’ She glanced, anxiously again, at the sleeping blond on the floor. ‘With them!’ she now glared at the closed bedroom door, thinking of the other rough men sleeping in other rooms.



Buffy slipped out of the bed and tip- toed over to the half open window that led outside. She truly had no intention of really running off, honestly. After William’s warning about bears, coyotes and wolves? That would be the epitome of foolishness and Buffy was not a foolish girl; at least not usually.

Truthfully, Buffy was being called by nature to relieve herself and she had no choice but to answer that calling. However, she did slip the dusty dress from earlier onto her body, if only to cover herself. Right, that was it. She was just covering herself to go and answer nature’s calling; nothing more.

For some reason, Buffy thought William would be a light sleeper. However, after she slipped on her dress and slid the small window up? She was pleasantly surprised to find he was quite a solid sleeper after all.

Once she had slid out of the window and onto the cool, dark ground below her still barefoot feet, Buffy stealthily tip toed out to the nearest set of pine trees. Something inside of her, something wild and free encouraged her to continue her trek into the woods and as far away from this place as possible.

About twenty yards from the crude cabin, Buffy thought she had heard the snap of twig or something, just behind her. She turned, scanned the nearby area and once she was content that it was nothing? Buffy continued her quiet march into the deeper woods.

“Well, looky here,” came a deep, rather annoying voice from behind Buffy.

“The little doe is running from the buck, huh?” Graham chuckled wickedly as he caught up to Buffy and took her by the arm.

Buffy tried to scream when the one they called Graham grabbed her by the arm, roughly. However, the huge man covered her mouth with his meaty hand and pulled her to his strong body.

Even though she struggled, violently against him, Buffy was well aware that she could never escape this brute. Her green eyes filled with hot tears when she realized just how foolish she was to even think about fleeing in the night from the cabin.

“Don’t cry beautiful,” Graham whispered huskily. “I won’t take you back to Spike, believe me. Think I’ll keep you out here, with me, huh?” He gave Buffy a nasty smirk and pulled her even closer to his body. Graham smelled of liquor and his words were slightly slurred.

‘Oh God,’ Buffy gasped beneath Graham’s hot hand. She could feel this monster’s manhood grind into her hip and it was making her physically ill.

“What’s wrong Princess,” Graham snorted, “old Spike not enough for you? Did you feel like you had to run from him? Well, that’s bad for him and good for me, right?”

Buffy began to struggle even harder now, but Graham just laughed and pushed her up against a huge pine tree. Her back hit the rough bark of the tree with a thump and the man’s body covered hers. She was completely caught, up against the tree, with no means of escape.

Try as she might to at least knee this huge monster, Buffy could not even move an inch. Graham had her pinned so tightly against the tree and right now, he appeared to be leaning in for a kiss…

The sound of the cock of a lone gun broke the tense silence in the clearing. Graham froze still, while Buffy fearfully sought the source of the noise.

William was standing, not ten feet away from them, his gun aimed directly at Grahams big head. Buffy could, by the moonlight, see that William was more then angry; he was enraged.

“Get your fucking filthy hands off my girl, Graham,” Spike spat in a deadly calm voice. “Now,” he ordered, “or I’ll blow your worthless head off, and you know I can. I’m the best shot this gang has and I won’t miss such a big target as your bloody head.”

Graham pulled back from Buffy and let go of her. She immediately pushed past him and fled to haven, behind William. Buffy was never so relieved or happy to seen anyone in her entire seventeen years.

“Can I help it if the little skirt ran from you?” Graham growled as he turned to face Spike. “What am I supposed to do? She’s out here, running around, just makin’ herself available to anyone…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Spike roared at the stupid excuse of a man before him. “Buffy,” he continued, much less harshly, “go back inside, now. Use the window; you seem to be good at that.”

“I had to, to go, you know, Will?” Buffy stammered out the sentence, totally shamed by the whole drama that had just played out. “Nature called and…”

“Okay Princess,” Spike replied, trying not to laugh at the whole situation. Frankly, none of it was very funny. He had warned Buffy not to traipse about, outside alone and what had she done? Just that.

Besides, Spike wasn’t so naïve to think that nature was the only thing Buffy was running to take care of. No, he knew damn well that Buffy had been making a run for it, even though…

“Graham,” Spike hissed at the now stoic, taller man a few feet away, “get inside. You’re drunk, that’s obvious and Angel’s not going to be happy about this. Get your worthless hide back inside and count your blessings that Jesse and Robin were out here, on watch. Remember mate, it was you that shot the sheriff in Redemption. You should be the one most worried about us getting’ caught and a drunk man on watch is worthless and stupid.”

Graham shot Spike a murderous glance and then purposely pushed right past both he and Buffy. When the taller man passed by her, Buffy noticed he gave her an ugly leer.

“This isn’t over Spike,” Graham warned as he stormed into the cabin, through the back door.

“No,” Spike whispered in reply, “not by a long shot.”

Buffy stood, bare-footed and shivering, her heart was racing as hard as it had when Graham had hold of her. This time, however, it was for a different reason.

William was staring down at her, a confused, slightly hurt look in his blue eyes. “Didn’t I warn you Buffy?” His tone was that of a disappointed parent, speaking down to an errant school girl.

“I really had to answer nature,” Buffy whispered without any conviction at all. She could not look at the handsome blond man, for some reason it caused her guilt.

“Go on,” Spike sighed in exasperation, pointing to a dark, hidden area close by. “I’ll wait right here, back turned, no worries,” he finished with a familiar smirk.

“Okay,” Buffy whimpered softly as she scurried over the secluded spot. Making quick work of the job, Buffy noticed a little stream that flowed close by. “I’m going to wash a bit, Will,” she called out.

“Water’s cold, Princess,” Spike chuckled in response when he heard Buffy yelp a second later. ‘Warned her,’ he thought smugly.

After they got back to the room, both of them through the window; Spike sat Buffy down on the bed and then hunched in front of her. His long arms rested on his knees, tensely and he stared into her wide green eyes.

“I told you not to go out there, Buffy,” he admonished her gently. “There’s all kinds of ‘big bads’ out there. Wolves aren’t always the four-legged kind, understand yeah?”

Buffy hung her head, embarrassed to no end. She did nod in response though. William reached out and lifted her chin to meet his intense gaze.

“I can’t let you go, Princess. Do you understand? Especially not here and now. I’m afraid you’re going to Arizona with us and that’s that. Besides, kitten,” his voice was tender, but quite determined. “Even after Arizona? I intend on taking you to Mexico with me. You best get used to it, Buffy,” he finished in a whisper; a slight blush on his face.

Before she could even digest what William had just said, he leaned in and placed a gentle, chaste kiss on her lips. Buffy wanted to pull away and slap William, as hard as she could. Instead, however, she merely stared at him in stunned surprise.

Spike stood up and smiled warmly down at the shocked little treasure. “Goodnight,” he stated firmly as he turned and climbed back down into his makeshift bed on the floor.

“Goodnight,” Buffy finally choked out in reply.


When Buffy awoke the next morning, she found herself alone in the room. There was a pile of women’s clothing, neatly folded and set on the bed by her feet.

Buffy hopped up, after making sure the door was shut all the way, and quickly stripped down. She found new, decent enough looking under things, pantaloons and a camisole on top of the pile.

‘Angel holds his wife in high regard,’ Buffy thought, warmly. It touched her heart that the hardened outlaw would think to buy his wife such lovely, lady like under things. She shook her head, a bit puzzled by the contradictory nature of these men she had been thrown in with. Especially William, or Spike as he was so affectionately called.

Buffy almost hated to put on the riding skirt and crisp new shirt that Angel’s wife was supposed to get. She being a female herself, knew that this Darla might not appreciate another woman wearing a gift from her husband. However, it was just too tempting for Buffy to have a clean change of clothes and vanity alone prompted her to don the pretty, very chic little pale blue shirt.

Once she had dressed, run her fingers through her long hair and pulled on her boots, Buffy slipped out of the bedroom door. Imagine her relief when she stepped into the kitchen and found only young Connor there, at the stove of course. He seemed to be cooking, again, and Buffy could not help but smile at the earnest look on the boy’s handsome face.

“Good morning Miss Summers,” Connor greeted Buffy politely. “Sleep well?” Buffy noticed a slight smirk on Connor’s mouth and decided that William had mentioned last night’s fiasco outside.

“Uhm, yes, and please call me Buffy, Connor,” she replied nervously. “Can I help you cook,” she inquired as she joined the young man at the stove.

“Might as well make myself useful, huh?” Buffy shot Connor a hopeful look and was pleased when he grinned shyly and nodded his shaggy dark head.

The two stood in comfortable silence for a few moments and Buffy more watched the boy fix a huge breakfast for the missing men. “Where is everyone?” Buffy asked non-chillingly enough.

“Angel and Spike, most of the rest are out scouting around. Making sure no posse’s caught up with us, yet,” Connor scowled as he replied. “Uncle Rupert is off, probably reading someplace. He’s real smart, my Uncle Rupert is. Reads all the time. So does Spike, when he can.”

“Oh,” Buffy murmured to herself. “Connor,” she began with hesitation, “if I ask you some personal questions, about your Uncle and William? Will you answer me, honestly?”

“I don’t know, Miss Summers, I mean Miss Buffy,” the boy replied shyly. “If I can answer them, but then again, maybe I shouldn’t anyway?” He turned and looked down at Buffy, anxiously.

“Please Connor,” Buffy pleaded quietly with the boy. “I know you have answers for ‘these’ questions of mine and I really need to hear them. Now. I need to understand what drives your uncle and cousin to do this outlaw thing. Please tell me Connor. Tell me what happened to your William’s mother and sister. I know, from Will, that it is part of the reason they the Giles’ men are here, now.”

Connor seemed to think for a moment, and then he nodded his dark head and motioned for Buffy to sit at the table. He grabbed to mugs and a pot of coffee from the stove, poured them both a cup and sat next to Buffy.

“It started back in England, Uncle Rupert and Spike’s home,” the boy began without further prompting. “I really only know what Angel told me and I doubt if it was everything, but…”


Spike sat on a huge boulder, next to Angel, and smoked a cigarette. He tried, with great difficulty, to ignore the idiot, Graham, that leaned on the huge rock, on the other side of his cousin.

Angel was saying something, in a low, but menacing tone:

“You ever drink on watch again, Graham,” Angel warned, “Or touch Miss Summers, even look at her twice? I’ll forget that you saved my life, back in Alabama. Understood?”

“Yes,” Graham mumbled.

“So,” Spike piped in, “how we going to Nogales, Angel? I suppose Kansas is out, even if it’s the easiest? That would be a posse’s first choice to follow, right?”

“Yeah,” Angel muttered as he smoked his cigarette, thoughtfully. “I was thinkin’ that we’d go through Colorado. The winter snow’s nearly melted and I figured a posse would just let us go for sure, but…”

“Buffy,” Spike whispered in reply. “She’d never make the Rockies, snow or not,” he frowned.

“Right,” Angel nodded in confirmation. “And since we have Graham here to thank for our fucking problem,” he stopped and glared at the other man, angrily. “And,” Angel continued, “since I suppose you have no intention of letting the lovely Buffy out of your sight,” he smirked at his younger cousin. “We’d best either go with the Kansas way, or over through Wyoming and down into Utah. That’s probably the ticket, the Wyoming route.” Angel finished with a grunt and tossed his dead smoke to the ground.

“Why not Kansas?” Graham asked roughly. “If little Miss is going with us, it makes the most sense. Easiest route down around into Texas and…”

“Ever heard of Wyatt Earp and his brothers, Graham,” Angel interrupted the man with his own question.

“Yeah, kind of,” Graham replied sheepishly.

“Well, it so happens that Earp and his boys are running around Dodge City, acting as marshals there. From what I’ve heard,” Angel chuckled here, “they’ve turned that town into a damned Sunday school. I don’t want a run-in with Wyatt or Virgil Earp, Graham. You don’t either, believe me.”

Spike sat, silently, for a moment, then stubbed out his own cigarette. “You’re right Angel,” he said, “Wyoming and Utah are the best way to go. And,” he added evenly, “you’re also right about Buffy. She’s mine and I’m not letting her go, ever.”


A/N: Weird chapter, I know. I’d hoped to reveal more about the Giles’ past, etc., but this just got way too long. So next time, Connor will fill Buffy in as much as he can about Spike, Rupert and maybe even Angel and himself.

The poem is by Christopher Marlowe.

Thanks for reading, pleaser review, spuf.

Chapter 7: ‘Comfort For The Captor’


“So,” Buffy began by clearing her throat, “tell me, Connor. What you know about

your uncle and cousin’s past?” It really was more of a plea then a statement. For some reason, Buffy needed to know as much as possible about William Giles. There was something between them, Will and her, and Buffy had to have answers, or excuses for him.

Connor looked down, into his cooling coffee, then met Buffy’s green-eyed gaze. “I’ll try. I can tell you what Angel told me, but it’s probably not everything.”

“It is enough, I am sure,” Buffy whispered with a nod of her head. “Please Connor. Tell me. I need to know about William, or Spike as you all call him.” She truly did need to know what drove William and his father to this life. There was something about William Giles that touched Buffy, deep inside and she just had to reconcile these feelings with this whole situation.

“It was back in England,” Connor began, hesitantly. “I think Spike was about my age when it started. Uncle Rupert was an important man back in Bath. That’s where they’re from, my uncle and cousin, from a place called Bath. My uncle was something like a lawyer?” Connor gave Buffy a dubious look, unsure of the real name for a lawyer in England.

“A barrister?” Buffy asked in disbelief. Actually, she was stunned, yet, maybe not. Rupert Giles was an intelligent, well educated man, that was obvious, and so was his son.

“That’s it!” Connor cried in relief, “a barrister. Angel told me that. He said that Uncle Rupert was a barrister in Bath, England. A good one too,” the boy added proudly.

“Like I said before, my uncle is real smart, just like Spike is. Anyway,” he scowled briefly, “Uncle Rupert was a lawyer in England and I think Spike was maybe thirteen or so. My Aunt Jennifer was married to Uncle Rupert, Spike’s mother was my own mother’s younger sister. Spike had an older sister, Drusilla. I heard, from Angel, that Aunt Jenny and my cousin, Drusilla were real pretty. They both had dark hair, like my mother, and dark eyes.”

Connor looked so wistful, that Buffy felt just terrible dredging up these old memories. His dark eyes were clouded in pain and she realized that the boy missed his own mother, dearly. However, they had started this memory lane trip and Buffy felt that it had to continue. No matter how painful, Buffy had to know what had happened in William’s life to lead him and his father to this destination.

‘I wonder what happened to Angel and Connor’s own mother,’ Buffy thought to herself. ‘I will have to ask someone that might know,’ she added, her curiosity getting the better of her. ‘I will ask this Riley person,’ she reasoned, ‘he seems to be the calmest member of the group.’

“Uncle Rupert, like I said,” the boy continued quietly, “was a real good lawyer, or barrister that is. From what Angel said, he was after this fella, Lord Ethan Rayne. Angel says that Rayne was a bad man, from way back. A lot of neighbors and friends of Uncle Rupert had been hurt by Lord Rayne and my uncle decided to try and have him punished by local laws in England.”

“That must have been difficult,” Buffy tsked softly. “Powerful men like Lord Rayne, and some men here, in the States, are usually hard to go after legally.”

Connor nodded his dark head in agreement. “It’s true, that’s what Angel said. There’s this man, Joseph Masters, from New York, he…” The teenager gave Buffy another dubious look, as if he had said too much.

“Anyway,” Connor continued, “whatever Uncle Rupert tried to do to Lord Rayne, and it must not have worked right. Angel says that when this Lord Rayne went after Uncle Rupert, it didn’t work either. My uncle was too tough to back down from Rayne. So,” Connor paused with a frown, “Rayne went after Uncle Rupert in another way. He hurt my uncle by hurting my aunt and cousin, Spike’s mother and sister.”

“What did he do?” Although she had a very good idea what this monster, Rayne, had done to the Giles’ women. Buffy felt as if she had turned white as a ghost and her question came out in a strangled gasp. She felt physically ill again and the room suddenly spun about her, a little.

“Lord Rayne and some of his men, they hurt Aunt Jennifer and Drusilla,” Connor whispered in horror. The boy could not even look at Buffy, he just focused on the coffee on the table in front of him. “The men,” he continued reluctantly, “they forced themselves on my aunt and cousin. In ‘that’ way and hurt them, terribly.”

“William said that his mother and sister had been raped,” Buffy mumbled in a harsh strained voice. She reached out touched Connor’s arm, gently. Buffy felt such a sense of sorrow for this poor boy, his brother, and especially William and Rupert Giles.

“So,” she continued in a weak voice, “this monster, Ethan Rayne? He destroyed your uncle and cousin, Spike, by hurting the Giles’ women?”

“Uh huh,” Connor nodded again, his dark eyes downcast. “Angel said that Aunt Jennifer died, right off, from the attack. My cousin, Drusilla, she lived through the rape,” Connor spat out the ugly word in disgust. “But, Drusilla, she wasn’t right, in her head after that and she hung herself. In Uncle Rupert’s fine home in Bath, up in the attic, Angel said and…”

“That’s enough, Connor,” Buffy whispered, raspily, feeling as if she might faint from the horror of the boy’s revelations. “I’ve heard enough,” she finished sadly. However, Buffy felt obligated to ask another question.

‘So it is revenge that drives William and his father to throw their lot in with these outlaws,’ Buffy surmised sadly. ‘I’ll bet that it is revenge that drives them all, in one way or another.’ Try as she might, Buffy could not stop the hot tears that spilled from her green eyes.

For some reason, Buffy felt such sympathy and agony for William, his father and yes, even Angel and Connor. They were all related to each other and this horror from the past must have sorely affected each of them. ‘It’s why William thinks nothing much of Connor being in this mess. He, himself was just the boy’s age when…’

‘Why do I feel such a connection with William?’ Buffy asked herself, puzzled by these conflicting feelings inside her. ‘He took me hostage, he is an outlaw and…’ However, all of her initial misgivings about William Giles could not override the simple fact that William felt something for her, Buffy, and she felt something for him. It made no sense, of course, but there it was.

“How old is William?” Buffy blurted out without thinking.

Connor stared at Buffy as if she’d grown two head, shook his own head, then answered honestly, “not sure, but he has to be twenty, at least. If he was thirteen, back in England? That was seven years ago or so. I know his birthday is coming up, in August,” Connor added. “So Spike is twenty, or twenty-one maybe?”

“Oh,” Buffy murmured, deep in thought. ‘At least six or seven years younger then Caleb,’ Buffy did the math in her head. ‘Not nearly as old as Caleb, yet much more hardened by life and…’

“Thank you Connor,” she finished quickly. She was trying to pull herself together, at least before the others returned from their scouting trip. It would do no good for the outlaws to see her in such a sorrowful, unhappy state as this. Buffy needed to be strong, for many reasons.

“I’ll serve up the breakfast, for the men, before they return,” she added as an afterthought. “It’s enough that you do all the cooking.”

“Miss Buffy,” Connor stammered nervously, “please don’t tell Spike or Angel that I told you this stuff. I’ve a feeling they wouldn’t be too happy about it. Okay?” The boy’s dark eyes looked so fearful and hopeful that it tugged on Buffy’s own heart.

“I won’t say a word about it,” Buffy assured Connor. “You’re probably right, your brother and cousin might not appreciate your honesty in this matter. Thank you again, Connor. You have no idea how much you have helped me. To understand better that is.”



As if an afterthought, Connor suddenly broke their useful silence. “Miss Buffy,” Connor whispered, “it’s why Uncle Rupert and Spike are here, in America. Why they do what they do. I guess my uncle couldn’t go after a man like Lord Rayne in England. I guess Rayne had too much power there. But here? The Lord’s power is money and that makes it his weakness. That’s what Angel says anyway. Any more then that? I can’t say,” Connor offered apologetically.

“This Lord Rayne, he has lots of money, tied up in farms, land and well, lots of things.” Connor gave Buffy a sullen look.

“I know,” Buffy whispered in a guilty tone, “I think Caleb, my fiancé, was backed by Lord Rayne.” Buffy almost sounded apologetic for this, even if she had meant to break off her engagement to Caleb Montgomery. A man by the name of Spike Giles had put a kibosh on that, had he not?



“Spike,” Connor continued softly, “he likes you a lot, Buffy. Maybe if you ask him, real good like? He’ll tell you more and answer your questions. It’s really all I know,” the boy offered with regret. “I know more about the others,” he referred to the rest of the gang, “but not too much about my own family.”


‘Meanwhile back in Redemption…’


“This is Marshal Merrick,” Deputy Mitch Mathews introduced the rather tall, lanky Lincoln law man to the few men gathered in the saloon. “That’s his hand-picked posse,” the deputy continued as he pointed to a group of rough looking men.

“He’s the best there is,” Deputy Hope piped up as he glared at Caleb Montgomery with an evil eye. Damn, but Scott Hope hated Caleb with a passion.

“Do you think they will hurt Buffy?” Hank Summers asked anxiously before anyone else could say a word.

Marshal Merrick thought for a moment; then answered the worried father. “I don’t believe so, Mr. Summers,” the law man mumbled in a soothing voice. “The Crawford gang has never taken a hostage before, no need to. But, this time, with your daughter and all? Frankly, I’m stumped. Mr. Osbourne here,” the marshal nodded at Daniel, cordially, “he tells me that Spike Giles was asking about your daughter, all over town, before the robbery and all.”

“So I’ve heard,” Hank grumbled under his breath. “Daniel says that this outlaw, Spike, was asking all kinds of our neighbors, townsfolk and the like, about Buffy I mean.”

Hank dared a glance at Caleb, who stood stoically by his side. The older Summers could tell that his would be son-in-law was nearly ready to explode at all of the innuendos that were being bounced about the tavern.

“Are you thinking that my Elizabeth left with this hooligan on her own will?” Caleb growled through gritted teeth at the marshal.

“Not at all,” Marshal Merrick replied, matter-of-factly. “I’m just saying that if Spike Giles took an interest in Miss Summers, cares about her say, then it might work to our advantage. It might be better for Miss Summers in the long run. If Spike Giles chooses to protect your daughter, Mr. Summers, then it’s better for her, right?”

“Right,” Hank nodded in agreement. As a father, he tried to believe what the marshal was saying. As a man, he wasn’t so sure at all. What if these men, this Spike especially, took advantage of his darling daughter? What if he forced himself on his pure and innocent girl?

“What if he takes advantage of my Elizabeth,” Caleb hissed in his controlled rage voice. “What if this animal forces himself on my fiancé and…”

“I can’t answer that, Mr. Montgomery,” the marshal replied, cutting off the tall man. “However, since the Giles, Angel Crawford and the rest of the gang have never been known to take a hostage before? I’d say chances are good that they just did it this time because of the shooting of Sheriff Wilkens. They never shot anyone either, that I know of, before this.”

“That’s just it,” Caleb spat, his dark eyes full of anger, “they never shot anyone before. Never took a hostage. What if Elizabeth is their first one and they ‘hurt’ her in some way. You know what I’m saying marshal, don’t you?” Caleb glanced at Hank Summers, knowingly. He could not have cared less at the ‘sick’ look on Hank’s face.

“I do,” Marshal Merrick sighed heavily. “Believe me, Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Summers, my men and I will do everything to bring Elizabeth Summers back. She'll be safe, whole and sound. No matter how far we have to chase Spike, Angel or the others.”


Before the other men had returned to the cabin; Buffy had taken her plate of breakfast and hidden out in the bedroom she’d slept in last night. For some reason, the thought of facing William, after all of Connor’s revelations, upset her.

‘I am a coward,’ Buffy sighed to herself as she nibbled with disinterest at her toasted bread. She could hear the men returning to the cabin, their heavy boots and loud posturing was evident in the next room.

‘I cannot even face William, like a real woman. A woman who is supposedly prepared to marry in less then three months. Why?’ Buffy had asked herself this so many times in the last hour or so. ‘Why am I so afraid to face William Giles? It is because he stirs something in me? Or because I now know the true extent of his misery and the anger that drives him to this revenge, and I’ve no idea how to comfort him? And,’ she continued her silent reverie, ‘why do I feel the need to comfort my captor?’

Buffy was truly vexed and perplexed by the time that the bedroom door opened and William stepped inside. He carried a plate full of food with him. However, Buffy could not bring herself to say a word to her captor; so she just focused on her own plate of food, not even looking up at William.

“What’s wrong Buffy?” Spike asked, less then confused. After all, the poor girl was being held hostage, by a bunch of rough, desperate men. Spike was the most desperate one of all, really. Not only was he wanted for crimes all over the south, east and north, but now he would be wanted for taking a young woman hostage. The law didn’t know that he loved this woman, his Buffy, from first sight. He did love her, that much he knew, but he wanted Buffy to love him back. Would she ever love him back? That was the question.

“We’re moving out, tomorrow,” Spike grunted at Buffy, not daring to meet her eyes with his. “We’re heading out through Wyoming and down through Utah. It’ll be easier on you then Colorado, like we wanted to go.” He felt like apologizing to her, for all of this mess they were in. Something kept him from admitting his regret though.

Buffy did not acknowledge this latest news, vocally; she just nodded and continued to nibble at her food. “I,” Buffy stammered finally, her head still bowed to stare at the food on her plate. She sat on the bed, while William sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her.

“I hate this,” Buffy finally blurted out, suddenly. “I hate not being able to sort out my feelings in all this,” she continued, thinking about what Connor had told her earlier.

“Your feelings?” Spike asked, puzzled. ‘He’d missed that obviously, when he had taken her from Redemption. Buffy’s deep down feelings; deep inside of her. Had he even considered her feelings in this matter? At all?’

“I want to hate you,” Buffy whispered in a raspy voice, her face flushed and red. “However, I cannot seem to bring myself to hate you. No matter what you have done to me and my family. I find myself having sympathy for you, and your father.”

“Why?” Spike asked, totally confused now. A pang of suspicion began to run through his mind, but he held his tongue and waited for Buffy’s next move.

Spike was more then surprised, he was shocked, when Buffy placed her plate on the bed, carefully. She stood up and slowly closed the short gap between them and stood in front of him, finally.

Before Spike could figure out just what she was doing, Buffy leaned down and placed her tiny hands on either side of his face. She leaned her own face down and placed a tender, but not necessarily chaste kiss on his lips.

“I am so sorry,” Buffy whispered sincerely. “For so many things,” she finished with a sigh. Her heart felt like it was breaking and she had no idea just why it was. It just seemed necessary for her to kiss this man, here and now, to give comfort, if nothing else.

When she pulled her head back, her green eyes were still focused directly into his blue ones. Spike noted the tiny tears in his Buffy’s lovely eyes and felt the strong tug of remorse down in his very soul.

Without thinking, really, Spike made an instant decision to pull Buffy onto his lap and deepen the sweet kiss she had started. He did just that.


A/N: Short chapter, just to give some kind of Spuffyness! Please read and review, thanks, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 8: ‘Consequences’


Summary: All kinds of consequences, for some of our characters, are referred to here.

Buffy admits some things to Spike, which pleases him, a lot.

Caleb gets drunk and broods, revealing his dark, sadistic inner personality.

Jesse and Robin return from a town nearby, to reveal some startling news to the gang.


Warning: This is not a truly dark chapter, however, some of Caleb’s inner demons are exposed. Rape is referred to, but it does not actually happen in this chapter.


Chapter 8:



Buffy felt William’s lips on her own and just melted into his kiss. She had never, ever been kissed like this, at least not like this and enjoyed it so very much.

The truth was, that Buffy was enjoying every second of this kiss that was unlike any other she had ever had before. Without thinking of the consequences, Buffy wrapped her left arm around his shoulder, and rested her right hand on the back of his neck. Apparently, Will took this as a go ahead sign to continue his onslaught.

William kissed her as if was worshipping her mouth with his own, only pausing to come up for air. It was when his lips slipped away from hers and trailed down her neck that Buffy became truly aware of just what really was going on here. Especially when one of his large hands ‘accidentally’ brushed her blouse covered right breast, lightly of course.

“Mmmm, Buffy,” Spike purred into the soft, sweet flesh of this girl’s warm neck. “So sweet, so dear and…”

“Stop!” Buffy cried as she pulled away from him.

“Stop?” Spike gasped, a little more then stunned by this sudden turn in Buffy’s behavior.

“Stop,” Buffy repeated her voice just slightly calmer then a moment before.

She leapt up from William’s lap and scrambled back away from him. “I, I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Buffy whispered shyly, unable to meet Will’s blue-eyed gaze.

“You kissed me,” he mumbled softly, “you kissed me and I heard music and everything went kind of cloudy. When you kissed me that is.” His expression was of disappointment, but his tone was accusing.

“I know,” Buffy sighed guiltily, “I did kiss you first. But it was to comfort you Will, not to start some kissing thingy and all. I…”

“Comfort me?” Spike stood up from his chair and closed the gap between Buffy and himself. “Why would you want to comfort me, Princess?” He asked with a raised brow; his arms crossed in front of him. Now, he was more suspicious then anything else.

Before Buffy could answer, William reached over and placed a finger under her chin. He brought Buffy’s face up, so that her green eyes could meet his. With his head tilted to one side, he stated rather then asked in his deep timbre: “Connor, he told you, didn’t he?”

Buffy winced at the question, but did not look away from this handsome outlaw. She nodded, briefly, but then quickly caught Will’s arm with her right hand.

“Do not be cross with Connor, please Will,” she whimpered. “I made the boy tell me. I wanted to know, I mean I needed to know about you, your father and a lot of things. He loves you so much, Connor does. You must know how he looks up to you, his brother and your father. Please do not take it out on the boy. I am begging you, Will,” she implored desperately.

Spike swallowed hard and took a deep, necessary breath before he answered this golden girl. As much as he wanted to be angry at young Connor, a part of him was pleased that the boy had told Buffy some about his own past. Besides, Buffy had called him ‘Will’ again and that always tugged at his heart; made his stomach to the most pleasant flip-flop.

‘She wanted to know about me,’ he surmised, hopefully. ‘If she wanted to know about all that, then she must have a good reason, right?’

“Okay,” Spike sighed heavily, noting the look of relief in Buffy’s beautiful green eyes. “I guess if you persuaded the boy then I can’t fault him. You could persuade me to sell my soul to Satan himself.”

He finished with a derisive chuckle, but Buffy chose to overlook that. Frankly, she was just relieved that William would not go after his cousin and admonish the boy for revealing the family secrets.

“He did not say so much,” Buffy spoke in a hushed voice. “Just enough to give me a fair idea of what drives you and your father to do the things you do.” She looked away from the blond man, too embarrassed, and sympathetic to meet his heated gaze any longer.
After all, William appeared to be a very proud man and it would do no good to make him feel weak by overdoing the sympathy thing.


“So you kissed me, to give me comfort?” Spike asked, trying to mask his disappointment. He had hoped that the girl was coming around and…

“Yes and no,” Buffy murmured, pulling back from him. She began to pace about the room, while William stood stock still in place.

“I guess it started as comfort,” she hesitated, suddenly very bashful about the whole kissing thing. “Then it kind of got to be a test?”

“A test?” Spike asked, incredulously. “A bloody test of what?” He hissed, suddenly not so bashful, but rather more peeved at this little blond minx.

“I wanted to know something,” Buffy replied reluctantly. By this time, she had placed herself a good distance from William. Her back was against the bedroom wall as she eyed him, warily.

“And that was?” William inquired through gritted teeth. Buffy noticed that his large hands were clenched by his sides and his jaw seemed quite rigid.

“I needed to know if, when you and I kissed,” she began quietly, focusing her stare on a loose floorboard. “I guess I needed to know if when I kissed you, that I felt those tingly feelings, like before. Like I did when we first saw each other at church. You know, last Sunday and all.”

Buffy felt like she was going to just die of shame, right there on the bedroom floor. However, she was savvy enough to know that desperate times called for desperate measures. Right now? Buffy was in the most desperate place of her lifetime.

“And?” Spike asked tenderly, but with that smirk of his. “Just what did you find out?” He felt his whole body relax as he watched for his love’s reaction.

“I am afraid that I truly do have those tingly feelings for you, William,” Buffy sighed sadly. “It was not just a passing fancy, as I had hoped it might be and…”

Spike nearly sprung at Buffy, closing the few feet between them instantly. When he reached her, he flung his arms about her tiny frame and pulled her close to his excited body.

“Oh Buffy,” he sighed, happily. “I had hoped that I read you right, but now? It’s like a dream come true. I do love…”

“Wait!” Buffy squealed loudly, appalled when she heard the loud laughter from the other room. Evidently, the men in the next room could hear some of their private conversation and it mortified her.

“You just wait one minute there, William,” she ordered harshly, blocking him with her upraised hands. “I said I had those tingly feelings for you, like you say you have for me. I never said we would, or should act on them!”

Spike didn’t know if he wanted to kiss the girl, or maybe choke the life out of her! God, she was such an unsure, contradictory little vixen; with her emerald eyes and pouty pink mouth and the look of an angel to her!

“Why shouldn’t we act on our feelings,” Spike whined loudly. He was instantly ashamed of sounding like such a whiny little nancy boy. “Why not,” he repeated quietly, in a more manly manner now.

“Because William,” Buffy sighed sadly, “I am still quite engaged to Caleb Montgomery. I am not the kind of girl to play fast and loose with one man, while still betrothed to another.”

“Oh, right,” Spike snorted. “So tell me, Princess,” he continued sarcastically, “where’s the garish ring that you were sportin’ the other day. The one your so-called fiancé gave you?”

He finished by grasping Buffy’s tiny hand and pulling it up to confirm her now bare ring finger. Spike just relished the lost little girl look on Buffy’s pretty face. For some reason, it bemused him to see this little tough-talking angel at a loss for words.

“Well,” Buffy hmphed indignantly, “I was on my way to telling Caleb that I as calling off our betrothal, but some brute of an outlaw abducted me away from my home and family before I could!” She stamped her booted foot and pushed William back away from her with a frustrated growl.

‘I have to get out of here. Away from him,’ she told herself. She pushed past him and headed for the door on the other side of the room.

“Don’t you walk off from me, girly!” Spike hissed as he hurried to clasp Buffy’s slim arm, roughly. “We need to talk about this.”

“Why?” Buffy snarled back when he spun her around to face him. “Whether I am engaged to Caleb, or anyone at all, it makes no difference William. You are an outlaw, wanted by the law. It does not matter if it was that Graham who shot Sheriff Wilkens or not. If he dies, the law will hang you all, once they catch up to you. There is no fixing this problem, Will,” she finished sorrowfully; heart cracking, just a little.

“Were you calling off your wedding to Montgomery, because of me?” Spike asked hopefully, instead of commenting on Buffy’s sad but true statement.

“Maybe,” Buffy whispered in her girlish tone, again looking down at the floor. “Maybe not. Oh, I don’t know Will. I only know that I never had these tingly feelings when Caleb, or any boy for that matter, kissed me like you did. I am so confused and you just make me more so! Regardless,” she muttered, “tingles or not, for either of us? This, this thing between us cannot go anywhere. Of that I am sure.”

Buffy suddenly flung herself on the bed and began to weep, quietly. This only succeeded in making Spike feel like complete shit by now. He sat down, carefully, next to his Buffy on the bed and placed his right arm about her slim shoulders.

“I don’t want you to cry, kitten,” he cooed tenderly. “I like your laughter, much more then your tears, sweet. Oh, God, please don’t cry Buffy.” Spike pulled her little body into his and snuggled his forehead into her neck again.

“Such a little thing,” he whispered gently. “So tiny and frail, but that’s not true, is it, kitten? You’re as strong as iron my sweet Buffy.” Without thinking much, Spike lay back on the bed and pulled Buffy with him; more then a little stunned when she cuddled into his side.”

“I am so very tired,” Buffy whimpered into his shoulder; sniffling just a bit as she said it. “Feel as if I could sleep for a month,” she murmured.

“Then sleep, sweetheart,” Spike murmured back. “I’ll lay here with you, if that’s okay. Watch you while you sleep and make sure you’re all right. Is that okay, sweet?”

His only answer was the low, soft purr of Buffy’s mewls of rest. Spike brushed back a damp lock of her golden hair from her cheek and gazed at his sleeping beauty.

‘She cares for me, Buffy does,’ he assured himself. ‘Might take a while, days, weeks or months,’ he continued his mood suddenly much lighter. ‘But she’ll come around; show her true feelings, sometime. Someday.’


‘Meanwhile back on Caleb Montgomery’s farm!’


Caleb Montgomery was not a happy man, at least at the present time. He was laying on his huge, lonely bed, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his large right hand. As he took another swig from the bottle, he thought back to what Hank Summers had told him earlier:

“I don’t think you should go with us.” Hank had stammered, nervously, after Caleb had demanded to go with the posse to track down the monsters who’d taken his Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth is my fiancé, Hank!” Caleb had nearly roared in shock back at the older man. “Of course I’ll be going!”

That’s when that ridiculous marshal from Lincoln had interrupted them. “Mr. Montgomery, I think Mr. Summers here has something he needs to discuss with you, in private?”

The fool of a lawman had, Caleb noted, glanced over at Hank, rather anxiously. Apparently, Hank had told this idiot Merrick the whole truth before he even bothered to tell Caleb himself.

Elizabeth had intended to break off their engagement! Hank finally took Caleb into another room, away from nosy strangers and broke the news to him.

It was all lies, of course, Caleb was sure of that. Why would Elizabeth ever break it off with him? Caleb knew he was the best catch in the whole territory and Lizzie was not stupid. On the contrary, she was very smart; well educated and well read. A girl of extremely good breeding, or at least he thought she was.

Caleb took another swig of his whisky and frowned sourly. “The little bitch. Miss high and mighty Elizabeth Summers, belle of Nebraska,” he hissed, slurring his words slightly. “Thinks because she got a case of cold feet that she’s gettin’ away from me that easily. Not likely,” he growled as he took two large drinks straight from the bottle.

“I’ve waited for two years to get Elizabeth Summers in my bed and I’m not letting her go now,” he reasoned vocally. “She’s mine; always has been. I don’t give a fuck why she wanted to leave me, or break our engagement. She belongs to me and always will.”

A thought struck Caleb’s liquor addled brain, and even he wasn’t sure if he liked the idea, or hated it.

‘That outlaw, Spike,’ he thought, suspiciously, ‘he’s already had his way with my poor girl, no doubt. Forced himself on her, I’ll reckon.’ Caleb felt the not unwanted stirrings of his cock, underneath his trousers.

While he hated the idea of any man ‘touching’ his pure Elizabeth before him, Caleb did find the vision of her being ‘taken’ against her will rather arousing. He reached down and began to stroke his cock roughly, trying to get some release for his straining erection.

“I bet she screamed and cried, she did,” he said harshly, finishing the bottle quickly. “Must have begged and pleaded for him not to force her, ruin her. Ruined she is,” Caleb surmised as he rubbed his cock even harder. “Yeah, he groaned loudly, she's surely spoiled beyond repair, probably by the whole bunch of brutes that took her. When she gets back to Redemption? Elizabeth’ll be beggin’ me to take her back and let me do anything I choose to her. No other man will want her, spoiled as she must be.”

Caleb finished getting his release as he envisioned his beautiful, naked Elizabeth, bent over a bed, or table; the outlaws lined up to take their turn with her. Although it should have enraged him, beyond control, somehow it excited him. How many times had he dreamed of doing this very thing to Elizabeth? But Caleb had other plans for his little fiancé; even more exciting and pleasurable then just taking her from behind, like an animal.

Yes, Elizabeth, when she was returned to him, would be begging for Caleb to do the right thing and marry her. Save her, he would, but not before he punished her, severely for ever thinking of breaking their engagement.

Because even if Elizabeth had had the good fortune to persuade those fiends that took her not to force themselves on her? She would not be so lucky with Caleb Montgomery when she returned to him.

How many times had he, Caleb, had to fight the overwhelming urge to force himself on his pure little Elizabeth.
After this traitorous act on her part? Caleb would teach the treacherous little bitch a lesson she’d never forget; everyday of their sweet wedded life together.

The fact was, Caleb enjoyed violence in bed, when the woman was the victim of it, that is. He’d discovered this little secret about himself when he’d gone to Lincoln, on business, and stumbled into Willie’s Saloon there. There was a particularly tough little whore there, in Lincoln, by the name of Faith. The girl was more then happy to accommodate Caleb’s oddly violent sexual habits.

Caleb had always intended on taking full advantage of Elizabeth’s lush, golden body, in a violent way that is. Once they’d married, of course, and she totally belonged to him.

Before this, Caleb was well aware that his woman would balk at the abnormal ways he got physical release. Now? Lizzie, as he called her, would be more then happy to take anything Caleb could dish out to her, physically; she would have no choice.


Spike gazed at Buffy while she slept, delighting in her soft, kitten mewls of sleep. He was to content at the moment; that was it, content. Buffy trusted him enough to lay down next to him, fully clothed maybe, but still? She had fallen asleep in his arms, confident that he would not take advantage of her, harm her in any way.

That had been an hour ago, and Spike decided he needed a cigarette, badly. He reluctantly disentangled Buffy from his arms, careful not to wake her up.

Quietly he slipped out of the bedroom door and headed into the kitchen, where he could hear the various voices of some of the other men. When he got into the kitchen, Spike was greeted by smirks, whistles and loud laughs.

“The little skirt finally give it up then Spike?” Graham grunted.

“Fuck off,” Spike hissed at the asshole. “Buffy’s not that kind of girl and she’s certainly not a little skirt. She’s a beautiful, brilliant young woman who happens to be…”

“Spike’s in love,” Holden chuckled loudly, causing everyone else present to burst out in raucous laughter. Suddenly, Angel came bursting through the door and strode up to his cousin. Angel was not laughing, Spike noticed, he was frowning.

“We’ve got to get the hell out of here, now!” Angel blurted as he glanced about the kitchen at the others. “Jesse and Robin just got back from some hell hole in Wyoming; Burns, just by the border.”

“Anyone know anything about a Marshal Merrick, from Lincoln? Or an Indian tracker, by the name of Samual something or other?” Angel asked the questions, anxiously, which stunned Spike somewhat. His cousin was usually very calm, even under bad circumstances.

“I know Samual,” Riley replied somberly, “his name is Samual Lightfoot. He’s one of my mother’s people and the best fucking tracker in the States. If he’s leading the way? He’ll find us blindfolded, that’s for sure.”

“Let’s just leave the little skirt here,” Graham offered with an indifferent shrug. “Spike’ll have to forget about his dick and leave the girl behind. She’ll be safe enough and this posse will find her fast, right?”

“I’m not leaving Buffy behind,” Spike growled through clenched teeth. “She’s comin’ with us if I have to…”

“Don’t bother Spike,” Angel grabbed his cousin’s arm when the blond tried to get to Graham. “We can’t leave Buffy behind now, even if we wanted to. Which I know Spike doesn’t.” For the first time in minutes, the big dark headed outlaw grinned.

Angel then glared at Graham, angrily, “you know Graham,” he hissed at the taller man. “I should have blown your brains out, last year. That stunt you pulled back in Fort Wayne, Indiana? It nearly cost us three men. If you hadn’t saved Darla and me in St. Louis…” Angel didn’t finish, just glared at Graham.

“Like I said, we can’t leave Miss Summers behind now, even if Spike would let us. Which, again; he won’t. The sheriff in Redemption didn’t make it. It’s all over the wires; he died last night. Because of you, asshole,” Angel snarled at Graham, “we’re all wanted for murder. Buffy is our insurance now and she’s goin’ with us, no matter what. A posse won’t shoot to kill any of us with Buffy riding along with us. They’ll at least catch us all first, then hang us good and proper!”

“Bloody fucking hell!” Spike swore loudly, as did the others, who then turned to glare at Graham. “You are a worthless piece of shit, Graham!” Spike hissed at the taller, larger man, angrily.

Graham flinched, but made no move to attack Spike, which was just as well. He’d have been shot before he got a foot closer to the angry blond outlaw. Not one of the gang cared at all for Graham, but they respected Spike. Their loyalty was to Angel’s cousin over anyone else, except their leader that is.

“I’ll go get Buffy up,” Spike sighed heavily, deciding silently not to tell her about Sheriff Wilkens' passing. The poor girl had a rough enough road ahead of her without being more upset.

Without saying another word, Spike took a deep breath and headed into the bedroom. The others began to scurry about, packing what they could before they had to run, once again.


A/N: I hope this was enough Spuffyness, at least for now. It’s 1876 and I’m afraid that Buffy isn’t going to give in to Spike right off, however, it is Spuffy, so…

Thanks for reading, please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 9: ‘On The Trail To Mexico’


After riding for what seemed like days, but could only possibly be hours, the gang of outlaws, and Buffy finally stopped. At some non-descript cabin, again, at the edge of some cleared glen or dale.

Buffy had ridden, uncomplaining; mind you, in front of William, once again. Although, this made no sense at all, since there were two unused horses galloping beside the rest of them.

If Buffy didn’t know better, she could swear that William just wanted to keep her on his horse. She was placed on his saddle in front of him and under his watchful eyes. This way, he could rather hold her and control her. Or so it seemed to Buffy anyway.

As for Buffy, She had come to a rather startling conclusion, one that could not escape her.

There was no question in Buffy’s mind that she was truly going on a ride to Mexico. Nothing in God’s green creation was going to stop that now, at least it seemed so.

‘Well,’ Buffy snorted silently, in the most unladylike manner, ‘at least I’ll get to see some of the Country. I’ve always wanted to, even if this method is rather bizarre, even for me.’

The irony of the whole thing was not lost on Buffy, certainly. Even while she was a hostage, and there was no question of that. There was the littlest bit of her, deep inside her mind, that had to rejoice at this whole situation.

An unwilling hostage she might be, of course, but still, how unwilling was she? Truly? After all, William was handsome, smart and ever so daring, just like one of those heroes Buffy had read about in her many books and novellas.

‘Yeah, right,’ Buffy mused, ‘a hero? The man abducts you. Takes you against your will and for what? To get you in the hardest (no pun intended!) place you’ve ever been? Who knows what these desperados might be driven to do and now, you’re right in the middle of it!’

‘Of course,’ Buffy continued to mull over the situation, silently. ‘As long as I have William as my champion, how can I be at risk?’

It was true of course. William had made it perfectly clear that he had a claim on Buffy, which did work to her advantage. As long as Will laid claim on Buffy, at least vocally, then the others would respect that. In fact, the others seemed to respect, fawn over and just gush all about William Giles. All of them, except this Graham person.

This reminded Buffy of the precarious situation at home, in Redemption. Graham had shot Uncle Richard and who knew how that had turned out. She had this awful, icky feeling down deep in her tummy that…


“Do you own every empty cabin and shack from here to Mexico?” Buffy asked William with a raised brow. They had stopped at yet another seemingly deserted abode; one that just waited for them to occupy.

“I’ve got a lot of friends,” Angel chuckled as he rode up to Buffy and Spike. “Let’s just say that I’ve got connections?” The huge, dark-eyed man grinned at Buffy, roguishly.

“Hmmm,” Buffy muttered with a scowl on her pretty brow. “I just bet you do,” she whispered under her breath.

“Let’s get you down and into the place,” Spike whispered into Buffy’s ear. He felt like a monster, even still, to have put this angel through this, but there was no going back now. That was for certain.

Buffy noticed a bright blue, little stream, nearly a river, rushing by the dilapidated old cabin. Suddenly, she felt rejuvenated and full of energy, even after the long, dusty ride.

Her excited request was out of her mouth before she even thought about ‘who’ might hear it:

“Can I take a bath!” Buffy squealed like a young girl. “Please!” she yelped happily. “I could use a nice soak right about now and…”

Suddenly, Buffy remembered just where she was and who she was with. Her face turned bright red as the rough, desperate men began to laugh loudly at her.

“Oh, please do, Miss Summers,” Graham roared with laughter. “We won’t mind, right guys?”

As the men continued to laugh loudly, Buffy felt like disappearing into thin air and slinking off into the sunset. She was mortified that her innocent suggestion had sparked such an open display of male lust.


“Shut the bloody hell up!” Spike screamed at the rest of the men. “The lady just wants to bathe, something that all of you might think about,” he added maliciously.

With a wink and a smirk at his golden girl, Spike slipped of Midnight. He reached up to Buffy, hoping she would slide into his arms and relieved when she did just that.

“I really would like a swim,” Buffy offered shyly as she slipped into Will’s strong arms. “It wouldn’t hurt, really,” she added bashfully.

“Then a bath you’ll have, Princess,” Spike whispered back to her. “Even if I have to hold a rifle and keep the wolves at bay,” he added amicably to her, but shot a murderous glance at the other men.

If Buffy didn’t trust William so (where the heck did that come from? Trust?), then she would have been mortified by the offer. Instead, she smiled, coyly, up at her captor and scurried into the rustic, empty cabin.

‘Oh the little minx,’ Spike chuckled to himself. ‘She’s just adding more visuals to my ‘Buffy lust addled’ brain.’ He had to laugh, out loud this time. This little snippet of a blond girl had stormed into his life and turned it upside down. In just a matter of one week's time.

Angel rode up to Spike and reared his horse to a stop. “You know, Cousin,” the older outlaw chuckled, “you’ve got your hands full with that spitfire!”

“Don’t I know it,” Spike replied with a good-natured laugh. “She’ll be worth it though, eh?”

“Probably,” Angel answered, “she’s a real lady, she is and…”

Suddenly, the group of men on horses heard the shrill, terrified screech of Buffy, coming from the deserted cabin. Both Spike and Angel leapt off of their horses and scrambled into the cabin.

When the two men had run inside the dingy cabin, they were confronted with a very frightened young woman. Buffy was perched, atop a sturdy, dusty table; her face as white as flour.

“What is Princess?” Spike asked in a concerned tone.

“A rat!” Buffy squealed, terrified. “A big huge rat; big as a barn cat! He scurried right by my feet and ran for that stove there,” she choked out, pointing at the beat up stove in the corner.

“A rat?” Angel asked, trying to stifle a chuckle. “You’re a farm girl, Buffy Summers. Why would a little old rat scare the likes of you anyway?”

Spike glared at Angel, but then glanced at Buffy with a raised brow. “He’s got a point, luv,” Spike sighed. “A farm woman like you should be…”

“I hate rats!” Buffy screeched in her best high-pitched tone. “And this one is as big as a barn cat. I told you that!” She hissed at the two men, like an angry cat herself.

“Oh for Pete’s sake, I’ll get rid of the varmint,” Angel cursed as he began to move the stove. “A damn rat, for Christ’s sake,” the large man grumbled under his breath. “You’d think that a girl like that could take a little rat!”

“Give us a hand,” Spike ordered Buffy, gently, as he reached out his own left hand to lead her down from the table. “Angel’ll get rid of the nasty old rat and you and I will go outside. For that bath you wanted.” He couldn’t help but smirk at the little blond angel. She was all fussed up and anxious from the rodent and Spike decided to take this opportunity to use at his full advantage.

“Will the rat be gone,” Buffy whimpered, nervously, giving William her tiny hand. “When we get back from the stream?” She glanced, anxiously, at Angel as he bent down to examine under the offensive stove.

“It’ll be gone, sweet,” Spike purred at her. With a quick, mischievous wink at his older cousin, Spike led Buffy out of the cabin and to the stream. He took a quick assessment and decided to escort his little treasure down the stream a ways, away from prying eyes.

“You won’t peek, will you?” Buffy asked Spike, timidly. He grinned at her, charmingly he hoped, as he shook his head. “No, I won’t…” he began, and then stopped, abruptly. “Well, no, I can’t promise that, Princess,” he added somewhat regretfully. “You do bring out the devil in me, Buffy Summers.”

Buffy stopped her disrobing, from behind a nice sized bush and stared at William in shock. “You mean you’ll look,” she whined, her eyes wide in horror.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Spike chuckled wickedly. “But I’ll ‘try’ not to, I promise. That’ll have to be good enough I’m afraid, kitten. I really can’t promise more. I can promise this, though. I won’t act on what I see. Can’t that be good enough?”

William gave Buffy an almost sweet, sincere smile and she just melted at it. She remembered, briefly, what young Connor had told her earlier.

‘William would never force himself on me,’ she realized, again. ‘He’d never do anything to me I didn’t ask for or want,’ she decided firmly.

‘Oh, my Lord!’ Buffy almost fainted from her self-realization. ‘What am I saying? That I want William to…’

“Okay,” she blurted out quickly. “I’ll just finish here and slip into the water. Please make sure those other men don’t stumble onto us William. I’d just die of shame if any of ‘them’ saw me like this and all.”

“I’ll make sure,” Spike replied with a small laugh. “I’d rather shoot them all, rather then have them see ‘my’ girl in all her glory. No worries, Princess.”

‘Hmph,’ Buffy snorted, ‘his girl indeed. Whoever said I was his girl? My, but William Giles is a bit too big for his boots!’

Buffy slid into the lovely, cool water and sighed in pleasure. She waded out to the middle of the deep water, to cover her upper body and all. Only when she was fully submerged in the wonderful water did Buffy begin to splash her hair, neck and face with it.

Spike kept his back to the place where Buffy was splashing around in. Okay, he peeked maybe once, but she was properly submerged in the water and didn’t get to see anything but her lovely long neck and beautiful face. That was enough for Spike, for now anyway.

He chuckled softly in delight every time he heard his golden girl moan or giggle in pleasure at the cool water. This reminded Spike that he could use a good douse himself and he intended on taking a swim. As soon as Buffy was finished and he had ensconced her up in the cabin with his dad, or Angel and Connor. Spike trusted these men and the boy more then any of the others and knew his Buffy would be safe with them, completely.

Buffy giggled again and a sudden thought struck Spike.

‘I almost hope old Angel didn’t run off that bloody rat,’ he surmised with a smirk. ‘I bet Buffy would demand I sleep on the bed with her, if she thought the rodent was still someplace inside, eh?’

Spike thought some more on this rather pleasant idea and decided to tell Angel to claim the rat got away in the cabin someplace. The devil inside of the blond man just couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. It wasn’t like Spike would force himself on Buffy, or do anything out of line. He was sure Buffy understood that by now, right?

“I’m finished,” Buffy called from the middle of the large stream and Spike turned about to face her.

‘Jesus,’ he gasped at the exquisite sight before him, ‘Buffy looks like a golden water nymph!’

Buffy’s wet hair was wild and hung down her neck and shoulders, disappearing into the water that covered her to her shoulders. Spike swallowed hard and tried to ignore his dick, which was growing painfully hard by this time.

“I’ll turn back around, sweet,” he squeaked out, roughly. “You get your clothes back on and we’ll go see about that rat, eh?”

“Okay,” Buffy replied meekly as she waited for William to turn around and give her privacy.


‘Meanwhile, back at the Summers farm…’


“When will Daddy and the other men be back with Buffy, Mama,” little Hank asked Joyce with wide blue eyes.

Joyce set the bowl she’d been stirring eggs in down and looked reluctantly at her youngest and only son, Hank Jr. Weary, from lack of sleep, Mrs. Summers plopped down on a kitchen chair and took Hank into her strong arms.

Before she could answer her youngest, twelve-year-old Dawn sat next to them and wrapped her right arm about her mother. “Yes, when, Mother,” Dawn asked in a shaky voice.

“I don’t know,” Joyce replied with a sorrowful sigh. “Daddy wasn’t even sure himself, or so he told me before the posse left town. It could be soon, or it could be…”

Joyce didn’t finish the sentence, she couldn’t. There was a strong possibility that the Summers family might never see their darling Buffy again. However, there was no way that Joyce could bring herself to admit this to her children, or even herself.

“Hey, short stuff,” Dawn broke into her mother’s disturbed thoughts, “go out and get some more eggs from the coop, huh?"Henrietta should have a few by now,” the young teen added hopefully. Henrietta was the Summers prized laying hen and Dawn had neglected to collect her eggs this morning.

Little Hank leapt up, happy to be of help to his beloved older sister and mommy. He scurried out of the kitchen, oblivious to the pain his innocent question had evoked.

“Mom,” Dawn began quietly, “I’m not little Hank…I’ll be thirteen soon and you can be honest with me. Promise. Daddy and those men, that posse thing? They are not so sure that Buffy is ever coming home. Are they?"

Joyce nearly broke down and cried when her middle child asked that unspoken question. She had tried so hard, Joyce had, to keep it together since this whole nightmare had started. It was getting harder by the hour, especially since her husband had left them to go with the posse and get Buffy back.

“No,” Joyce whispered in a strangled voice. “None of us are so sure that Buffy will ever come home. Those men,” she continued weakly, “they’re desperate and dangerous, Dawn. God only knows what they might do to Buffy and…..”

“He cares about her,” Dawn blurted out suddenly.

“What? Who cares for her?” Joyce asked her daughter, very confused by now.

“That blond outlaw, the one they call Spike. He was staring at Buffy at the Church social, even though stupid old Caleb was there with her. Buffy was staring back, Mama, and it was obvious that there was ‘something’ between her and the blond man.”

“No Dawnie,” Joyce gasped, “that can’t be. Buffy would never fall for an outlaw and she was engaged to Caleb.” It then dawned on the older Summers woman that Buffy had indeed intended on breaking off with Caleb. Her oldest child had made it clear to Joyce that Caleb and her were not meant to be. When did Buffy come to that conclusion? It was right after the Church social that last Sunday."

“It can’t be,” Joyce whispered in disbelief, letting a lone tear slip down her right cheek. “Are you saying you think that Buffy went with this man, this Spike? Of her own free will?”

Dawn shook her head, firmly, “no, I’m not saying she went willingly. Willow made it clear that Buffy was taken by Spike, no question. But I agree with Willow and Daniel; I don’t think this Spike will let anything happen to Buffy, bad that is. Not by anyone, or by him. I’m telling you, Mama,” Dawn continued with conviction, “this Spike cares for Buffy, and I think she just may care for him too.”


Buffy nibbled at the spoonful of stew she had helped Connor put together. It seemed to be a hit, since the other men ate their portions right up, heartily.

With every bite she took, Buffy glanced nervously about her, and at the floor. Angel had alluded to the fact that he did not completely get rid of the nasty rat she had seen earlier. The thought of going to sleep, alone in some dingy cabin, with a rat running about? It truly terrified Buffy, maybe even more then the predicament she was in.

“So we’re going through Wyoming and Utah?” Riley asked, almost indifferently.

“Yeah,” Angel replied quickly, shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth. “It’s the easiest way, anyhow. Not a lot of law out in Wyoming or Utah. At least not yet,” the dark haired man added with a snort.

Buffy eyed the unusual man, Riley Finn, carefully. William had mentioned that the man’s mother was a Shawnee princess and his father was an Irish emigrant. This intrigued Buffy, if nothing else, mainly because she found Finn’s use of the mysterious peyote plant quite interesting. There had been a horse or two and some cattle, on Buffy’s father’s farm that had stumbled into a patch of peyote, or loco weed as the locals called it. The horses and cattle had never been the same afterwards. Once a horse, so local lore had it, had tasted the loco weed, they were never the same. No one rode a horse again, once they’d eaten some of the wild weed that grew in parts of Nebraska.

It was the same with cattle, but yet different. The milk cows that munched too much loco weed? It seemed that the beasts never gave milk again after, and that meant slaughter for the poor animals.

There was something about Angel, Connor, Riley Finn and yes, even Xander Harris that peaked Buffy’s interest. She meant to find out how these men had fallen into this life and where it might lead them. That meant one thing. Buffy had to ask William about his friends and fellow outlaws. Even if it meant needling the information out of him.

“Let’s go, Buffy,” Spike muttered as he tossed his plate into the makeshift sink by the wall. “We need to get you to bed, sweet,” he added with a smirk.

‘Oh dear Lord,’ Buffy gasped with a deep blush. ‘Does he have to make it sound so, so very naughty?’

They readied for bed, quickly, Spike and Buffy did. He tried not to look at her and she hadn’t looked at him for ages. Or so it seemed.

“There’s no sheets or blankets, sweetheart,” Spike offered, almost apologetically. On the bed I mean,” he glanced at the rather suspicious looking bed in the middle of the small room. “There is an extra, clean bedroll, Buffy,” he added quickly. “It’s a bit dusty for the ride, but it’s clean and you can put in on the bed and…”

“The rat,” Buffy whispered in a shaky voice. “Angel didn’t get the rat,” she continued with a whine. “I hate rats, William. One bit my little brother, a while back. He’s been sick, off and on since. I hate rats,” she trailed off in a whimper.

“Tell you what,” Spike offered in comfort, “I’ll put my bedroll, on the bed, next to you. We’ll each have our own covers, separate, but I’ll be next to you. I promise, Princess, I won’t try anything and I’ll be there, to protect you, yeah?”

Buffy seemed to ponder this offer, seriously, then she nodded with a shy blush. “Okay William. I think maybe I would like that. I hate rats,” she added, once more. “They’re…”

“It’s okay, luv,” he murmured tenderly. “You get ready for bed. I’ll turn my back and I won’t peek this time, promise.”

“Okay,” Buffy whispered timidly.

Once she had disrobed, down to her under things, Buffy slipped into the cozy bedroll. She tried very hard not to look at William as he stripped off his over clothes and joined her on the bed. In his own bedroll, of course.

For many moments, the couple lay silently together. Each of them lost in their own private thoughts for a while. Finally, Buffy broke the silence and asked the questions that had plagued her all day.

“Would you tell me, about your cousins, Angel and Connor? About Riley and Xander? I know some about you, Will, but I need to know about the others you ride with. Please?” Buffy pleaded.

Spike sighed, heavily, then grunted, “yeah, I’ll tell you what I can Princess. What do you wanna’ know?”

“Why Angel is here? Why his little brother is wrapped up in all of this? What is going on with Riley and Xander? Who are these women that Xander and Angel are married to and where do they fit in? I know it’s none of my business, William, but…”

“It’s as much your business, now that is, as anyone’s,” Spike mumbled in reply. “We made it your business when we stole you from Redemption, sweet. I’ll tell you what I know, but I can’t figure out why you’d care.”

“I care,” Buffy whispered as she turned to face him in the bed, ignoring all the convention that she knew. This was so wrong and Buffy knew it, truly. However, she had come to the conclusion that everything about this whole situation was ‘wrong’ and nothing was going to be the same for her again. Ever. So…

“Angel and Connor are my cousins, as you know,” Spike began hesitantly. “Their mother was my own mum’s older sister,” he continued, a hitch of pain in his tone. “Their dad and mum lived in Georgia, somewhere near Savannah. When the great War broke out, I mean between your north and south? Angel's Da left for the War and all." He fought on the side of the South, luv. Uncle Liam never came home, from the War that is," Spike finished on a sour note.

“Oh,” Buffy whispered. “Where is your aunt now?” She asked, curiously.

“Still in Georgia, or so I’m told,” Spike answered with an uncomfortable snort. “Why she allowed Connor to join Angel? Who knows?”

“Oh,” Buffy repeated, ashamed of herself for even asking. “What about this Riley and Xander?” She decided to change the subject from William’s family.

“That’s a little more complicated,” Spike sighed. “From what I’ve been told, Riley’s mum was a Shawnee princess, like I told you. His Da was an Irish whelp, come to America with his folks during some famine in Ireland. He met Riley’s mum in some Shawnee village, when she was a girl, younger then you. Traded two good steeds and some furs for her, Caroline, they changed her Indian name to later. Riley’s Da married his mum and moved her to a Kentucky farm.”

“How romantic,” Buffy sighed dreamily, even though she was more then shocked at herself afterwards. It was not right to vocalize such silly musings, especially in front of a strange man. An outlaw to boot!

“Angel told me that Xander’s family lived on the next farm, to Riley’s that is. The blokes grew up together, as friends. Riley’s Da went off to the war, with Xander’s father. Neither of them came back,” Spike finished in a strained voice.

“How sad,” Buffy said, sincerely. “My father went to the war too,” she continued softly. “He fought with the Union, for two years. Luckily, he came home to my mom and me. Dawn came soon after and…” She blushed bright red and felt the urge to turn her back on William again.


“You miss them?” Spike asked, suddenly. “Your family? You miss them, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Buffy whispered meekly. “I do.”

“Buffy, I…” Spike began.

“No, William, don’t. You made the decision for me, when you scooped me up from Redemption’s main street. We can’t go back now, can we?”

“No,” Spike muttered, sheepishly. “I guess we can’t, can we?”

“Tell me more,” Buffy ordered him with authority.

“After the war, Riley’s mum moved over to the Harris place, with that family. Xander’s mum insisted and they made a go of the place, for a while that is. Of course, Xander and Riley become more like brothers then ever and the extra hands helped Mrs. Harris. Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?” Buffy asked meekly.

“Riley’s mum, she got sick with the measles, from some blokes that came down from the north, after the war. Whites,” he continued somberly, “we take the measles pretty badly, but Indians? It’s usually kills them.”

“Riley’s mother? She died from the measles?” Buffy felt like she might be ill herself.

“Yup,” Spike replied with a shake of his blond head. “She died from them, Buffy,” he added sympathetically. “Xander’s mum tried to nurse Caroline Finn back to health, but it was a no go. After Riley’s mum passed on, Xander’s mum so weakened by the care giving, that she fell ill herself and died soon after. Xander and Riley never forgave the men who came to steal their farms and lives. They called them carpetbaggers, the folks down south did. When Angel rode through Kentucky? Riley was ripe to follow him into the outlaw life. Xander follows Riley where ever he goes and always will.”

“Their wives,” Buffy murmured, “what about them? They do not matter to Angel and Xander? At all?”

“They do matter,” Spike assured her, “but its bigger then that, kitten. Once a bloke gets caught up in this life, of bank robbing and such?" They're pretty much stuck in it, Princess. Besides, its not like Angel and Xander's wives didn't know what they were gettin' into, from the start.” Angel and Xander found them both, in a saloon, down in Virginia. I guess the way Angel, Xander, Darla and Anya see it? They saved each other.”

“Oh,” Buffy sighed again, unable to say much else. “I see,” she finally managed to add.

“Don’t judge them, Buffy,” Spike stated. “It’s easy to judge someone, when your own life has been pretty easy and…”

“My life has not been easy, William Giles,” Buffy grumbled impatiently. “Far from it, truly. However,” she added evenly, “I would never judge anyone. It is not my place, nor is it my nature.”

“Let’s talk of something else,” Buffy mumbled with a yawn. “Please Will,” she pleaded in a soft voice.

“Like what, sweet,” he asked gently, trying not to stroke his Buffy’s tender little cheek with his large, calloused hand.

“Recite some poetry to me,” Buffy ordered with a slight giggle. “Please?” She finished coyly.

“Oh, all right,” Spike snorted in frustration, but silently, he was thrilled by her request.

Buffy snuggled against William, against her better judgement, and waited for his magical prose to begin.

Spike cautiously wrapped his arms about Buffy and pulled her gently to him. He began to recite a particular favorite poem he had read somewhere:


‘Come away, come sweet love
The golden morning has broken
And all the earth and air seems
Sweet and pleasant…

Teach thine arms to embrace
And your sweet rosy lips to kiss
Our mixed souls in mutual bliss

Come away, come sweet girl and…’

Spike noticed that Buffy had fallen into a deep sleep, so he halted the prose.

‘Pity,’ he sighed silently, ‘I so wanted to finish the poem for her.’

His disappointment was short lived when Buffy snuggled even further into his body. She seemed to sigh in peaceful contentment and Spike could swear he heard her mumble ‘William’ in her sleep.

“Goodnight, Princess,” Spike murmured as he placed a quick, chaste kiss on the top of her soft, golden head.

“Sleep tight,” he added warmly, just before he fell off to sleep himself.


A/N: I hope this chapter was worth the wait. It’s kind of a bridge between the last one and the next one, which will be longer and even more Spuffy! I’m going camping on Wednesday of next week (oh yeah) and I don’t know when I’ll be able to update more of my fics.

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 10: ‘The Talk’


Summary: Oh yes, even in 1876, girls want to talk about their feelings!


A/N: Okay, I talked my hubby out of camping!!! Yeah!!!
Anyway, this chapter is the start of a closer, kinder, gentler Spuffy
(I hope).

I am going to try and finish and post another chapter of the Little Miss Marker series on Spuffy Realm, today or tomorrow. I’m not sensing a lot of interest in the story and if I don’t get a lot of reads for chapter 3, I am considering dropping the fix. I hope not, since it is fun for me to write. Thank you, spufette.


Spike woke up with a jolt from his sound sleep, his heart racing and pounding. He immediately felt the presence of a little small blond beauty in his arms and his heart began to slow down to a more normal beat. Finding Buffy in his arms, even if they were in separate bed rolls did give him some peace of mind, at least.

In a way, that is. Since Buffy was still snuggled deep within his embrace and Spike still had his arms wrapped tightly about her? His heart; head and oh yeah, his dick were anything but calm and normal.

As Spike watched his little angel sleep, he was reminded that just maybe this sharing a bed thing was not such a great idea. Spike’s dick was rock hard and getting harder by the minute as he watched Buffy sleep.

‘The sleep of the innocent,’ he mused, watching the rise and fall of her chest, underneath the bed roll’s cover. But, really, just how innocent was Buffy Summers?

‘Innocent enough,’ Spike answered himself, frustrated completely by now. He slipped his arms from around Buffy and slid out of his bed roll, trying very hard not to wake the sleeping beauty. ‘I need a smoke,’ he grumbled under his breath, as he pulled his cigarettes from his pants pocket.

After lighting his cigarette, Spike stumbled over to the moonlit window on the far side of the small room. He tried very hard not to look back at Buffy, asleep so safely in her little bed roll. His mind reeled from the whole situation; him, lying next to Buffy, asleep on the bed and she sound asleep, so unafraid next to him. This was too much, even for Spike to contemplate.

The thought of him, Spike Giles, reciting poetry to this little slip of a girl, caused a deep, hot blush to seep over him? Well, it made him blush from embarrassment, kind of that is. On the other hand, he did enjoy reciting prose for someone like Buffy; a worthy lady who seemed to appreciate it. Not that Spike had ever really known any lady like Buffy before; not ever. All’s he’d ever known were whores, saloon girls and maybe a so called lady or two, but not a Buffy. Not ever before.

Buffy was a woman worthy of Spike’s love; the love he already felt for her, no question. If only she might grow to love him back, then everything would work out. Of that he had no doubt.

Spike saw Buffy as his salvation, right from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. This girl was the one, he had no doubt of it and he had decided, in a week’s time, that he would move heaven and hell to have her with him. For eternity.

Taking a long deep drag on his smoke, Spike finally turned to look at the face of his own salvation. Buffy was still sound asleep, in her little bed roll, apparently oblivious to the reeling emotions that were tormenting Spike. He turned back to the window and stared out of it, sighing deeply and wishing for a glass of whiskey right about now.

‘I should go outside, give myself a good, private wank and be done with it,’ he chided himself. ‘Then maybe I could climb back in my bed roll, lay next to Buffy and be okay to sleep. Doubtful, though,’ he added with a snort. Buffy could make his dick hard from a mile away and that was the truth of it.

Buffy’s eyes opened, slowly, and she scanned the unfamiliar bedroom of the cabin. When she realized that William was no longer laying next to her, in his bed roll, she was a bit disappointed.

She glanced about the small bedroom and found William standing in front of the biggest window, smoking a cigarette and staring outside. The moonlight that shown into the room illuminated William’s half-naked body with its glow. Buffy had never seen anything so breathtaking in her entire seventeen years.

‘This is wrong,’ Buffy groaned inwardly as she eyed her captor, hungrily. ‘These feelings that I have about William are unfamiliar and perhaps a little wrong of me. I cannot feel this way about someone like William Giles. It’s not normal, or right or proper or anything that I have been brought up to believe in.’

Buffy tried to look away from William’s bare back, but she could not. His form was just too beautiful to look away from; like something from an art book. Briefly, she wondered if he might think the same about her? William had said she, Buffy, was beautiful and desirable, right? Perhaps these inner feelings she was having about him were normal and right. She certainly hoped they were blessed by the higher powers that be. Because Buffy had a feeling that very soon, they both, William and her, might not be able to hold back from these desires for each other.

She wondered what was bothering William, right at this moment. He seemed troubled; even she could sense that from her place on the old bed.

‘Come on Buffy,’ she chided herself, ‘you know exactly what is bothering Will. He’s uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as you. Let’s be honest here,’ she continued logically, ‘he’s a man. You are a woman and he has made it clear he has feelings for you. For him to lie in the bed, next to you, covers or no? How hard is it to figure out what’s troubling him?’

In all of her seventeen years, Buffy had never experienced the feelings she was having for William Giles. He was everything that her parents, her society and her upbringing cried out against for her. But…

“William?” Buffy whispered into the darkness that surrounded them. “Are you all right?”

Spike tensed again, momentarily, then forced himself to relax before he turned to face Buffy. He finally moved to face her and shrugged, sheepishly, “I’m fine, Princess,” he mumbled.

“Are you?” Buffy asked coyly, her right brow raised in question. “You do not seem very all right to me,” she almost giggled out loud, but controlled it.

“Okay,” he grunted in defeat, “I’m anything but all right, pet. I have a bit of a problem here and I can’t think how to right it.”

He hung his head down and focused on the floor beneath his bare feet. Shame was written all over his face, so he couldn’t bear to look Buffy in her gorgeous green eyes.

“William. Will,” Buffy murmured softly, “come here, please.” She patted his empty bed roll, next to hers and bade him to join her back on the bed.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, luv,” Spike muttered gruffly. “I’m a bit peckish and…”

“Come here, Will,” Buffy ordered more firmly this time. “We need to talk, I think,” she finished with a warm smile. “Just come here, lay down and we’ll talk, all right?”

“Okay,” Spike replied in a husky voice. He reluctantly (okay, not so reluctantly) joined Buffy back on the bed, careful to slip into his own bedroll and place his arms by his side.

“So,” Buffy began cautiously, “you’re not going to hold me? That kind of hurts, William,” she finished sadly.

Spike eagerly wrapped his long arms about his Buffy and pulled her close to him. Well, as close as he could between the two beds roll that is.

“Don’t want to hurt you, Princess,” Spike whispered raspily. “I never want to hurt you Buffy,” he murmured.

“I do not think you can,” Buffy assured him, placing her right hand on his right arm that was embracing her shoulders. “And I do believe you would never try to, Will,” she added sincerely.

Without thinking, Spike began to caress Buffy’s bare neck with his left hand and fingers, tenderly. He was rewarded with her shivers of pleasure as he stroked her bare flesh.

“Like that?” he asked in a husky tone.

“Yes,” she gasped lightly.

“Can you imagine what it might feel like if I use my lips and mouth to do that?” He asked carefully, unsure if this might not be moving too fast for Buffy.

“I can,” she answered quickly. “And I am sure I will, eventually,” she giggled saucily. “But for now, Will,” Buffy became serious again, “I think we should discuss some things. Many things between us?”

“We need to talk,” Buffy repeated as she tried to pull away from William’s lovely administrations. “I want to tell you about so many things and I need to hear so much from you.”

“Okay,” Spike sighed in frustration, “shoot,” he finished with a smirk.

Buffy smiled at Will’s use of the word shoot, since he was an expert at shooting. This thought suddenly brought a scowl to her brow, but she brushed off the severity of it.

“I went to Redemption,” Buffy began cautiously, “on Saturday, to speak with my minister, Reverend Snyder. I wanted to seek council from him,” she continued, “on how best to break off my engagement to Caleb Montgomery. He, Reverend Snyder, was less then pleased with me,” she finished on a sorrowful note.

“You ‘were’ going to break off with that ponce, Montgomery!” Spike exclaimed with a boy like glee. “Was it because of me?” He asked, hopefully.

“Maybe,” Buffy purred, her head still buried into his bare chest, “but then maybe not,” she added coyly.

“It was,” Spike snorted, “it was because of me. Admit it, Buffy,” he ordered sternly, embracing her even tighter. “Tell me you felt what went between us, at the church social that Sunday. Tell me that…”

“All right,” Buffy sighed in defeat, “I did feel ‘a lot’ at the church social. I felt things I have never felt before in my life; certainly not with Caleb,” she admitted shyly. Her golden head was still buried into William’s strong, naked chest and for that she was thankful. Buffy did not want William to see her blatant wantonness that must be apparent on her flushed face.

Suddenly, Spike reared his head back and clasped Buffy’s chin with his left hand. He pulled her face up to meet his gaze and rasped, “Kiss me, Buffy. Let me kiss you until we both want to scream from the torment of it and…”

Without an okay from Buffy, Spike crashed his lips onto hers and began to plunder her luscious mouth with his lips and tongue. He was more then happy to realize that she did not fight against him. Rather, she seemed to eagerly join in with him in the kissing!

Buffy was being kissed! Oh, how she was being kissed, very thoroughly! She had never, ever been kissed like this before and it was well on the way to leading her down a path of carnal pleasure and…

“Stop!” Buffy cried out to a very confused William. “Stop, please Will!” She pleaded as she struggled to disengage from his vice-like grip.

“I,” he began, totally lost in the shuffle and confused by Buffy’s complete turnabout in emotions. “I thought,” he stammered as he looked at her with puzzled blue eyes.

“I am so sorry,” Buffy choked out. “I know I led you on and I am so very, very sorry,” she added sincerely. “It’s not as if the kisses weren’t lovely,” she assured her disappointed suitor. “It’s just that I don’t think I am ready to, well, you know?” Buffy blushed bright red and tried to turn away from William, to hide her own shame at her wantonness.

“You know?” Spike asked in a near whimper that made him feel like a bloody school boy. “I know what?” He finally asked, his tone curt and abrupt.

“I cannot do ‘this’ William,” Buffy replied, her voice strangled with embarrassment. “I cannot just give myself to you and…”

“Give yourself to me?” Spike asked, his tone suddenly a hundred times lighter.

‘She’s thinking about giving herself to me?’ he reasoned, happily. ‘The little tease is fighting her own feelings for me and she will give in, soon,’ he thought, relieved actually.

Spike spun Buffy’s tiny frame back around so that her pretty face was even with his. He pulled her flush up to his body and pressed his forehead to hers, gently.

“I know you’re not ready for ‘that’ Princess,” Spike assured the little treasure that filled his eager arms. “Even if I am,” he continued strongly, thrilled when Buffy blushed bright red again. He could feel the hot flush of her embarrassment against his forehead and it made him want to ‘feel’ that as much as possible.

“I never felt this way,” Buffy repeated, her voice trailing off into a whisper of shyness. “About anyone. I never…” she burned bright red with bashfulness.

“Me neither,” Spike retorted, honestly. He placed a soft, gentle, almost chaste kiss on Buffy’s swollen little lips, lovingly.

“And I think we owe it, to ourselves,” he continued gently, “to explore our feelings for each other. We’ll go as slow as you need, Princess,” he finished with another tender kiss to her cheek.

“That’s enough?” Buffy asked, her green eyes full of innocent confusion.

“For now,” Spike replied softly, pulling her even closer to him. “I’ll wait forever for you, Buffy Summers,” Spike whispered into her warm little ear. “I love you,” he stated evenly.

“I know,” Buffy whispered with a shy little giggle. “Give me time, Will,” she asked quietly. “I think I could give you what you want and need, someday. If you just give me time?”


‘Meanwhile back at the farm…’


“Time is not on our side,” Joyce Summers whispered to her other daughter, Dawn. “The longer Buffy is gone, with those outlaws, the less chance we have of bringing her home,” she finished with a sob.

“I know, Mama,” Dawn sighed, hugging her mother to her body. “I miss Buffy and Daddy,” the twelve-year-old admitted sadly. “I just wonder, though…”

“What?” Joyce asked Dawn, a little defensively. “What do you wonder?”

“Well,” Dawn began carefully, not wanting to upset her beloved mother even more. “I wonder if by the end of this all? If Buffy will want to come home. And if she does? Will she ever be the same again? Or, will we?”

Joyce stared at her young daughter, stunned by the girl’s adult insight into the world and humans in general. Dawn never ceased to amaze Joyce or her husband, Hank.

“You are very wise for a child,” Joyce murmured in awe. “I believe you were born forty, Dawnie,” the mother shook her head in amazement.

“Maybe I was,” Dawn giggled in reply. “Maybe I was some big mystical power that was sent to you and daddy to help make things right in the world of Redemption!” This seemed to just tickle Dawn to no end and she began to laugh loudly at the silliness of what she had said.

Hank Jr. took that moment to rush into the kitchen and up to his shocked mother. “It’s Caleb Montgomery, Mama!” The little boy gasped for breath as he announced the coming of his sister’s fiancé. “He’s riding up the path to the house!”



Spike held Buffy so close to him, that it was not clear where he ended and she began. It was so much more then could have ever hoped for, at least just days before this. He was in Heaven, no question, or at least near as he might ever come to it. Well, at least until Buffy succumbed to him and became ‘his’ totally.

“This is nice,” Buffy murmured softly, her head still buried into William’s lovely chest.

“It is,” Spike agreed, placing an affectionate kiss on the top of her soft golden head. “Just think how nice it’ll be when we…”

“William,” Buffy warned him in a tender voice as she nuzzled her mouth into his chest again.

“Sorry,” he chuckled well naturedly. “You just bring out the demon in me, Princess,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Buffy giggled slyly, “I think maybe you’ve a bit of demon in you anyway, William Giles,” she pointed out. “It might be what I like about you, eh?”

“Maybe,” he sighed in contentment as he pulled her even closer to him. Which was a little difficult, considering the two bed rolls were in the way?

“We should probably sleep now,” Buffy mumbled with a yawn. “I suppose we’re to have an early start tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Spike yawned himself in response. “Early start,” he mumbled, nuzzling his mouth into Buffy’s soft hair.

“Maybe you could give me a quick kiss goodnight?” Buffy whispered shyly. “If you do not mind that is?”

“Mind? Not at all. I’d love to kiss you to sleep, my sweet,” Spike gasped as he began to do just that.


A/N: A bit of a cliffie there. Be assured, if more then just kissing is going to happen between our Spuffy duo? You’ll all be the first to know!


Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 11: ‘Bad Girl Buffy’


A/N: I’m starting this chapter differently then the others. This one will start on the Summers' farm and might shed some more insight into Caleb’s dark, twisted mind.

I am so trying to write Caleb on some canon with the show and his character on it.

Later in the chapter, there will be more Spuffy doings! Yeah! Our duo belongs together and they are growing closer daily.



Caleb Montgomery was a tenacious man, no question about that at all. He himself knew this, as did most of the folks in or about Redemption, Nebraska. Even Lord Ethan Rayne, all the way back in merry Olde England had ‘noticed’ the Montgomery’s of Kentucky. After the Great War, the old despot, Rayne, had sent his ill gotten money to the Americas, to aid the spawns of people like the Montgomerys.

Rayne had backed a teenaged Caleb, years before this, financially, and set him up on a thriving farm in Nebraska. Did it matter that the land had once belonged, and legally, to a Shawnee family? Not really; in fact, not at all. If Caleb Montgomery wanted this land, then he would have it. So, he did; Lord Rayne made sure of that.

When Caleb, now in his late twenties, had began to scout around for a perfect mate? His eyes, most naturally, had fallen on Miss Elizabeth Summers, daughter of Hank and Joyce Summers.

It wasn’t that far-fetched, really, for the handsome, well set Caleb Montgomery to want and secure the most eligible young woman in the Territory for himself. Elizabeth would make a more then suitable wife for the ambitious young farmer and a succulent little bed mate. Of that, Caleb had no doubt.

All of Elizabeth’s, or Lizzy’s, as he liked to call her, prim and proper emoting couldn’t hide the passionate woman inside of her. Caleb had sniffed this out, the minute he spied the ripening young fifteen-year-old at the County Fair and he had set his hat on Elizabeth to be his wife. When the time was right, of course.

The time had come and Caleb had set the trap for Elizabeth and her father. After ingratiating himself with Hank Summers, some years before, Caleb courted Lizzy with all of the charm and demeanor of a true southern gentleman. He had succeeded, truly, Caleb had. Or, so he thought, until an unruly, scoundrel and heathen by the name of William ‘Spike’ Giles had ridden into Redemption.

Caleb was still in shock about that and the ego inside of him could not accept the fact that this outlaw had come and swept his Lizzy off of her feet. He had not, of course, but then why did the Summers’ family insist, including poor Hank, that Lizzy no longer wanted to marry himself, Caleb?

As he rode up to the Summers’ farm, Caleb took long, deep breaths; to cleanse his angry thoughts. For two days now, he had drunk down his whisky and lay in his empty bed, on his own farm. His dark thoughts had nearly driven him to madness, but he had managed to subdue them, at least long enough to come to some conclusions.

First off, Caleb had decided to take matters into his own hands and confront Mrs. Hank Summers, while her husband was away. He, Caleb, would stand up and be counted, like a true man that he was, and ask Elizabeth’s mother, right out, if his betrothed had changed her mind.

There was two ways for Caleb to react to any answer Mrs. Summers may give him. Of this he was sure and he had practiced his reactions, most definitely.

If Joyce Summers would not, or could not answer his blunt questions, then Caleb would have no choice but to turn his fine steed, Lucifer, around and head back to his home. With his hat in hand and his tail between his legs.

Now, if Mrs. Summers would be so kind to be forthright with Caleb, tell him the whole truth? Then perhaps he could counter the older woman with a smooth, well rehearsed answer that might sway Joyce towards his camp.

This is why Caleb was here, now, at the Summers’ farm, even while Elizabeth and now Hank were gone. If he could wiggle his way into Joyce Summers’ trust, Caleb might be able to salvage some chance of marrying Lizzy.

When he reached the front porch of the Summers’ home, on his horse Lucifer, Caleb saw Mrs. Summers come out of the screened door. She was followed by that little brat, Dawn and her sickly sot of an only son, Hank Jr.

“Hello Caleb,” Joyce greeted the dour looking younger man, reluctantly. “What brings you here?” She asked, trying not to let her anxiousness show. For the first time since her husband had left, to retrieve their oldest child, Joyce felt nervous that she had not allowed Hank to leave a man in charge of the place.

“I’ve come to talk about Elizabeth with you, Mrs. Summers,” Caleb grunted. He noted the obvious discomfort his presence was eliciting from not only Joyce Summers, but her two children. “I thought I should discuss what will happen, after Elizabeth comes home to me, uhm, to us,” he added quickly.

“I believe my husband told you that Buffy is not interested in pursuing a marriage with you, Caleb,” Joyce retorted. “She made it quite clear to me, and to her father, that she will not be marrying you, ever.”

Joyce tried very hard to sound all brave and sure in her statement, but Caleb Montgomery suddenly made her feel very unsettled indeed. She had never really noticed, before this, that the man before her was really quite odd in his manner. He had an almost evil demeanor about him, now. It seemed to just glow from him. Is this what her darling Buffy had feared about Caleb? Why she chose to run from him?

Caleb noticed, not for the first time, that Joyce Summers was quite an attractive older woman. It was right then, that he remembered that Elizabeth’s mother had been quite young herself when she had her first child.

‘Was she seventeen or eighteen?’ Caleb asked himself, doing the math quickly in his head. Eighteen, that was Joyce Summers' age at the time of Lizzy's birth. Lizzy was just now seventeen-years of age. So, Joyce was about thirty-six-years-old, just a few years older then Caleb.

‘Hmmm,’ Caleb began to ponder this thought as he tried to think of something more to say to Joyce. ‘Say Hank doesn’t bring Elizabeth home,’ he reasoned, logically. ‘What if Hank doesn’t make it home either? That would leave a grieving Joyce and a fairly young family to care for?’

Joyce Summers was an attractive woman, no question in Caleb’s confused mind. Her full figure was appealing to Caleb; a kind of fuller version of Elizabeth’s trim frame. An ample breast, with a full, bottom, drew a man’s eye to the older woman’s assets.

Caleb couldn’t help himself, he began to visualize Hank Summers’ wife, naked and willing, underneath him. He could see himself pounding into the mother, taking her every way he could and…

“Caleb, about Buffy,” Joyce’s gentle voice broke into Caleb’s lustful thoughts, bringing him back to the situation at hand. The younger Summers’ girl, that brat Dawn, huddled behind her mother. Every moment or so, Dawn would give Caleb a rather disgusted look.

‘The little bitch couldn’t possibly know what I was thinking,’ Caleb assured himself. ‘She’s a little sneak, but not that worldly that she’d have any idea what a man wants from a woman like Lizzy, or her mother. Now, if the daughter is unattainable? The mother would make a nice replacement,’ Caleb realized in secret delight.

“I said that my daughter, Buffy, is not interested in pursuing any wedding plans with you, Caleb Montgomery. I believe it is time to move along and carve a life in another fashion.”

“She’ll be spoiled,” Caleb blurted out, without really thinking about what he was saying. “Elizabeth will not come home, pure and sweet as before. Those heathen outlaws will have taken her, plenty of times,” he spat maliciously. “Do you think your precious ‘Buffy’ can be so choosy, once she’s been defiled?"

“Leave my land!” Joyce cried angrily. “How dare you come here and say such things! In front of me and my children! Get off our land, Caleb Montgomery and do not return here!”

“You’d best think about this, Mrs. Summers,” Caleb growled lowly. He noticed that the little brat, Dawn, stuck her tongue out at him in mockery. Even the boy, Hank Jr., scowled at him, an expression of pure mockery on his stupid face.

“I’m thinkin’ that when Elizabeth returns, if she does,” Caleb retorted in his guttural mutter. “I’m thinkin’ that she’ll be crawlin’ to me, on her hands and knees, Mrs. Summers. To give her a decent name and…”

“Leave!” Joyce roared. She pulled out the long rifle her Hank had left her to protect their family and home. She leveled the gun at Caleb Montgomery, catching him in the rifle’s scopes, her blue eyes narrowed in rage.

“I’ll go,” Caleb mumbled, “but remember this Mrs. Summers. When Lizzy returns, shamed and beaten down? I will be there for her.”

Caleb leapt up onto Lucifer and turned the steed’s head to the south, towards his own farm. He never looked back as he rode the dark horse back to his home. His dark, wicked thoughts overwhelmed him as he veered off from the path home and made his way to Redemption.

There was a whore, at The Red Garter, that could relieve Caleb of some of his tension. The pert little blond whore would take what Caleb had to give her and never protest at all. Who cared if the filthy bitch wasn’t Elizabeth Summers? He’d have his fiancé back, soon enough, of that Caleb Montgomery was sure.


Buffy leaned over and took a long, welcome drink of the cool river water. William stood behind her; she could feel his steely blue-eyed on her backside. A week ago, this eyeing by Will would have mortified Buffy, but now? She actually rather enjoyed his attention.

‘I am turning into a real trollop,’ Buffy thought sadly, trying not to beam at Will’s attentions to her. ‘I really do enjoy William’s admiration of me. Soon, he will want more then just ‘oohs and ahs’ from me for his attentions.’

A few yards away, Buffy could hear the evil Graham, griping about having to ride so far out of their way. Just because of the little blond piece of skirt of Spike’s.

“We’d be halfway through Colorado by now,” Graham groused bitterly. "If we’d have left the little skirt back at the cabin. Like I wanted,” he whined like a spoiled brat.

“Buffy’s with me,” Spike growled at Graham as he placed a protective arm about Buffy’s tiny waist. “I thought Angel told you to shut your trap,” the blond spat at the taller man, menacingly.

“Let’s see how happy your ‘girl’ will be when we’re sleeping out on the prairie dirt of the Utah Territory, Giles,” Graham laughed wickedly. “When there’s no luxury of a cabin or bed to…”

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel roared at Graham impatiently. “Don’t make me choose between you and my blood, Graham,” he added sharply. “Believe me, I’ll choose family, every time!”

“Right,” Graham muttered as he shot Spike a nasty look. Then, for good measure, he leered at Buffy without any shame at all.

Spike must not have noticed, because he just helped Buffy back up on the horst she was now riding. It was a little palomino mare, the color of buttermilk. Buffy had fallen in love with her the minute she sat on the horse’s sleek back.

“Wyoming is certainly a ‘big’ place, isn’t it, William?” Buffy asked timidly, trying to change the subject. Even she could sense the dour mood of the gang around her and she did not want to add to their worries.

“We’ve been in the Utah Territory for a day, Princess,” Spike chuckled gleefully. “We’re headed for the great salty lake, in the Territory. It’s like an ocean, sweetheart, only smaller,” he offered hopefully.

Spike wanted Buffy to come around and finally feel a part of this group, as motley as it might be. If he hoped to have this fine girl as his mate, anytime in the near future? She would need to adapt to this life of his and soon. Mexico was a ways off, yes, but Spike was more then sure the gang of outlaws would arrive there. Sometime soon.

“Oh,” Buffy whispered, suddenly intimidated by the whole idea of Utah and its vastness.

“Just a round-about trip through the Utah and we’re in Arizona,” Spike continued jovially. “After that? Mexico is just a…”

“We’ll camp, soon,” Rupert Giles mumbled as he rode past his son and Buffy. “I don’t care for riding at night,” he added gruffly.

“Will there be no board, William?” Buffy asked quietly as she rode next to the blond outlaw.

“Not in this part of Utah, sweet,” Spike replied guiltily. “Probably not until close to the Arizona border. “Angel has friends, but not that many in Utah I’m afraid,” he snorted.

“Okay,” Buffy sighed dramatically. “Will you stay close by me William? I mean at night when…” She glanced back, fearfully, at Graham and that Holden fellow.

“I’d rather die then leave you off, too far from me,” Spike murmured back to her. “I’ll have my bedroll, close as I can to yours. Promise. Thought I might throw together some kind of shelter for you, as soon as we’ve stopped for the day. A lean-to?”

“That would be nice, thank you Will,” Buffy hummed in response.

“Mexico has a vast ocean, really part of a gulf, pet,” Spike whispered into Buffy’s warm little ear.

They were half laying, half sitting up in their bedrolls, by a small river, somewhere in the Utah Territory. The stars were so close to the young ‘lovers’ that it seemed you could reach out and touch them.

Night had come and per Rupert’s commands, the group had bunked down until the next morning. Rupert Giles had a superstition about traveling at night and the rest of the gang tried to respect that.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” Buffy muttered, embarrassed momentarily. “In Mexico,” she continued shyly, “they speak Spanish and I can’t say a word of it.”

“Me either,” Spike chuckled as he lit a cigarette and glanced at Buffy, longingly.

“How…” she began timidly, but stopped suddenly.

“We’ll manage,” Spike sighed, taking a long hard drag on his smoke. It was getting harder and harder to fight the urge to just take Buffy, right then and there. Spike had managed, for days, to keep his passion in check but he knew soon that it might become impossible for him.

“Tell me more,” Buffy ordered William in a raspy voice. “I want to know more about your cousins, Angel and Connor. About Riley and Xander and yes, even you William.” She laid back down on her bedroll and stared up at the inky black sky.

“All right, Princess,” Spike replied slowly. “I’ll start with Angel and Connor,” he added as he stubbed out his cigarette.

“My cousins, like I said, came from a pretty posh plantation, down in Georgia. Well, it was posh, before the War that is. After? It was pretty low rent. The battles; the depression in the South and all? It took it’s toll. Add to it the fact that my aunt’s husband never returned from the war? Things went from bad to worse.”

Buffy was not shocked, not really that is. New and stories like this were common to her, especially after the great Civil War between the States.

“Angel was a young man, of course, when the war ended and Connor was just a sprog really. After the conflict,” Spike continued thoughtfully, “there were a lot of problems down ‘there’ and such. Taxes needed to be paid and crops were poor; people were starving, dying really. That’s when the ‘saviors’ from the North showed up in the South, giving false hope and promises. Joseph Masters,” Spike spat out the name in disgust.

“The Joseph Masters?” Buffy asked, a little in awe.

“Yeah,” Spike replied hastily, “the one from New York City. He sent his ‘men’ down to Georgia to ‘help’ out the newly displaced people there. That’s when Angel first got the itch for revenge,” Spike scowled unhappily. “This Masters’ people? They burned my Aunt, Angel and young Connor out of house and home. That’s when Angel turned to crime,” he added bitterly.

“I’m not excusing my cousin,” Spike explained matter-of-factly to Buffy. “Just tellin’ you what happened with Angel and then, Connor, later on.”

“I see,” Buffy murmured, still a little puzzled by this information that William had given her.

They lay in silence, together, looking up at the stars above them, then…

“And you Will,” Buffy finally whispered softly. “I know what your cousin, Connor told me. What you’ve revealed and all. But,” she stammered, “I really do need to know more, before I…”

“Before you what?” Spike asked Buffy as he gazed at her with unabashed adoration.

“Before I give myself to you, in any way,” she murmured, totally embarrassed by her brash, brazen behavior.

‘I am truly a bad, dirty trollop,’ she told herself with regret. ‘William will think me a nasty, bad girl,’ she assured herself sadly.

“You’re not a bad girl, you know that right?” Spike asked Buffy as he wrapped his arm about her back and shoulders. This man seemed to be able to read Buffy’s mind.

“No, I really don’t know that,” Buffy replied sorrowfully. “I think I am a very bad, dirty girl and…”

“Well, you’re not,” Spike growled. “You are an angel, Buffy,” he stated reverently. “My angel,” he added with great conviction.

“I have feelings for you, Will,” Buffy blurted out. “Strong and…”

Spike cut her off by kissing her mouth, forcefully with his. His left hand brushed her breast, tenderly. He was more then pleased when she did not pull away from him, but instead placed her hand on his and encouraged his ministrations.

“I am a bad girl,” Buffy sighed harshly against his mouth. “A nasty, dirty girl who wants an outlaw for a lo.....”

“Lover?” Spike gasped in response, his mouth still connected to hers. He couldn’t hardly believe that Buffy was warming up to him, even if he had hoped and prayed that she would.

“Maybe,” Buffy giggled coyly. “But only if you are forthright and honest with me, William Giles. And, only if I am honest and forthright with you, sir,” she continued earnestly.

“How so?” Spike asked sincerely as he stroked Buffy’s silky golden hair with his left hand.

“I need the truth from you Will,” Buffy stated firmly. “I need the truth from you and I want to tell you all of my truths. Then, and only then, can we form some kind of foundation for out feelings for each other.”

“I’ll tell you what I can,” Spike whispered fearfully. “It’s not pretty Buffy. I can promise you that, but if you need to know? I will tell you,” he finished with a sad snort.

“Tell me,” Buffy ordered gently.


A/N: I’m bushed, literally. I have to get to bed and hope that tomorrow I can get up and write more of this tale, my 1920’s fic and maybe even the other two WIP’s this weekend.

Thank you for reading this. Please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 12: ‘The Magic: Love And Desire’


Summary: A chapter devoted to Spuffy this time. Enough said, right???

A/N: Okay, so I’m not going to say there’s a lot of Spuffy sex in this chapter. I would not mislead the readers here, however, this chapter is filled with (what I hope to be) the kind of emotional and spiritual bonding that I feel Spike and Buffy need to have together.
I can only hope that I relay the Spuffy message I’m trying to give here. Thank you.


“William!” Buffy gasped as she gazed out at the Great Salt Lake of the Utah. “I have never seen anything so breathtaking!” She uttered in awe.

“I have,” Spike chuckled into Buffy’s warm little ear. “You,” he finished with a quick kiss on her cheek.

“Oh, you,” Buffy grumbled good-naturedly as she patted Will’s strong arm with her tiny hand.

“It’s true,” Spike countered affectionately. “You’re the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, Princess.”


After last night, when Buffy and William lay under the stars together? Buffy had been rudely enlightened even more to the history of the Giles’ family. Since she herself had asked the entire truth, Buffy bore the ugliness of William’s painful story, without muttering a word in response.


‘Flashback to the night before; both Buffy and Spike’s POV’


“My mother,” Spike stammered reluctantly, “she was, uhm, well, she was pregnant again. When it happened,” he mumbled in a pain filled voice.

“Oh, God, no,” Buffy gasped in sick shock. “Oh Will,” she whimpered as she snuggled closer against her ‘captor’s’ taut body.

‘Decorum and propriety be damned,’ Buffy reasoned, defiantly. ‘This brilliant, beautiful man needs my comfort and understanding tonight.’ His arms were wrapped about her body and she stroked his golden head, tenderly with her right hand.

“Dad said mum was a few months along when…” William had paused to take a deep breath and swallow hard before he continued in a shaky voice.

“I wasn’t very old, not nearly thirteen,” he continued, hesitating only to breathe. “Drussy, I called my older sister, Drusilla that,” he added quickly with a blush that Buffy found irresistibly endearing. “My big sis was seventeen or so, about your age now.”

“I guess that Connor told you as much as he knew to tell, so no point in going into that again. Mum, she and Drussy were out and about the family grounds. Alone, as usual, since dad was always busy someplace, doing something noble for someone else.”

Buffy thought she caught a strong sense of bitterness in William’s tone, but she said nothing about it. She had decided to let Will tell her everything he wanted, or needed to and that’s what she was going to do. There would be no abrupt questions; no murmurs of shock or sadness; not even words of solace. At least, not until William was completely finished with his sordid tale of sorrow and woe.

“Rayne must have been watching our place, for days, if not weeks,” William mumbled in a gruff voice. “The bastard knew when Da was away on business and he took that opportunity to…”

Buffy placed her tiny hand on Spike’s chiseled cheek. Her green eyes were wide in some emotion that he could only guess at.

‘Feels just like a sweet, soft feather,’ Spike noted, gratefully. Buffy’s little hand and slim fingers stroked his cheek, making his whole body quiver in pleasure.

Without having to tell him to continue, Spike went on, hesitating from time to time. He was really trying to remember the nightmare from over seven years before. That and to keep up his courage to continue the awful story.

“I was away, at school then,” Spike muttered in disgust, as if he could have done anything to stop the horrid events that took place.
“I’m not going into everything, Buffy,” he mumbled harshly, “I just can’t. I’ll say this much though. Rayne and his filthy friends raped my mother and sister, just like that. Like mum and poor Drusilla were just…”

“Don’t say anymore,” Buffy cried, burying her head into William’s chest. “Please don’t say anymore, Will,” she began to cry quietly, ignoring her self-promise of just moments earlier.

“Need to,” Spike rasped, now stroking Buffy’s long golden hair with his large hand. “I need to say this Buffy, please listen. Won’t you?” He hated the weak pleading sound of his voice, but for some reason, Spike felt that he must tell Buffy as much as he could about that horrible time.

Buffy looked up and into William’s clear blue eyes, now tinged in pain. She worried her lower lip and swiped the tears from her own eyes. Without saying a word, she nodded for him to continue, but not before she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Like I said, I can’t go into everything. I just can’t and for a lot of reasons,” he whispered. “It’s enough that you know that my mum died, almost during the attack. She bled to death,” he muttered harshly.

Buffy fought the urge to gasp out loud by covering her mouth with her hand. The one that was not gently stroking William’s arm that was about her.

“Drusilla lived, for a while anyway, after the attack. Dad made sure she had the best care, perhaps too little too late, but…”

Spike choked on the last sentence because he knew, deep down that no matter how much either of the Giles’ men wanted to blame themselves? It was Ethan Rayne that had brought this horror and mayhem on their family.

“Before you ask why Dad didn’t just go after Rayne, Buffy? Don’t,” he spat. “Things were different then here, Princess. Class and status mean more there and Rayne were completely untouchable. Untouchable by the law; by the church and by my family. It was as simple as that.”

“So you and your father came here?” Buffy asked meekly, “to get your revenge on Lord Rayne? How? By robbing him to death?”

“Sort of,” Spike smiled for the first time in hours. “Rayne sought out my mum and sister, out of revenge on my dad. So, dad and me? We came here to get our own brand of revenge on Lord Ethan Rayne. The fucking…”

“Will,” Buffy murmured with a blush. William’s crude language could still embarrass her, no matter how hard she tried to be tough and all.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he groaned with remorse, “but I hate the bastard and that’s that. Drusilla, she lasted a month or so, after the attack. Just long enough to find out she was pregnant with one of those bastards’ spawn. She lost the rest of her bent mind, right after and hung herself in our attic.”

“I know,” Buffy whispered in horror. “Connor told me about it, but he left out the baby part,” she added in a strangled voice. “I had no idea…”

“You know,” Spike spat bitterly, “when dad sought justice, against Rayne and his men? No one could, or would help us? After everything dad had done, for all those people back home? No one raised a finger, or a law book or anything to help us out. That’s when dad remembered mum’s half-brother, Wesley Pryce.”

“You mean ‘the’ Wesley Pryce?” Buffy asked, shocked that the respectable Mr. Pryce was a part of all this. “He is engaged to a very good friend of mine, Winnefred Burkle.”

“Yup,” Spike nodded, lighting a cigarette, “that one. He housed us, near Redemption. Told me all about you, luv,” the blond outlaw chuckled in pleasure. “He also told me to forget about you and just get the hell out of town. After we robbed the bank of Ethan Rayne’s precious gold that is.”

“But I couldn’t just leave Redemption, Princess,” he muttered bashfully. “It was too late you know. The moment I saw you? I knew you were my redemption and salvation, Buffy.” He sounded desperate and it shamed him for some reason.

“I’m a human woman, Will,” Buffy murmured into his soft, golden hair. “I am no saint or angel, but a flesh and blood woman, William Giles,” she whispered gently as she nuzzled his cheek with her lips.

“You’re my angel,” Spike mumbled, his mouth buried into Buffy’s warm, soft neck.

“Why would you need redemption or salvation William?” Buffy was confused because she had assumed that Will had never killed a man. At least not done murder, or done anything as horribly wrong as that.

“Because I was gone away, from my family, my sweet Buffy,” he whimpered, unable to meet her green-eyed gaze. “I should have been home, with Dad, my mum and big sister. If I had of been…”

“Then those monsters, Rayne and the others? They would most likely have murdered you, sweetheart,” Buffy whispered. “I am selfish enough to be glad that you are not dead, but here, with me now.”


Spike had not missed the sweet endearment of ‘sweetheart’ from Buffy’s lovely mouth. “Both my dad and me? We’ll live with the shame and horror of our inability to act, or react I guess. To what that bastard, Rayne did to us and our family. But if it meant me, coming here and finding you? My salvation?”

He pulled Buffy closer to his body and began to pepper hot, tender kisses on her face and neck.

“I think you had better rein in your passion, William,” Buffy almost giggled. “I have to admit, pleasant as your passion is for me? I am certainly not ready for that, yet,” she added coyly.

“Do you think I’m a monster, Buffy?” Spike asked, rather stung by another of Buffy’s rejections. “Because I am what I am and all? The things that my father and family do, now, here in your home? Am I a monster to you?”

Buffy did not answer that question right away, instead she pondered it for a few moments. When she replied, she wanted to be sure to put the words right and try to make William understand her inner most thoughts and feelings.

“Not a monster, Will,” Buffy sighed sadly. “Look,” she clasped his face with both of her hands and stared right into his open blue eyes.

“If the situation was reversed,” she began carefully, “and it was me that had this catastrophe fall upon my family? Then, I have to think that I too would want for revenge and all the pleasure it might bring to me. Dear God, Will, if anyone hurt Mama, or Dawnie and little Hank? I would want to rip their heads off, with my bare hands!”

Spike had to smirk slightly. No question about it, his Buffy was a little pistol!

“Who am I to judge you William? Or your father and friends? My life has not been easy,” she continued, thoughtfully. “However, it has been somewhat sheltered and protected for me. If someone ever even threatened the security and sanctity of my family, then I would have no other recourse but to seek them out and destroy their evil. I believe it is human nature to protect what is ours, or what we think is ours. Be it family, land or even self-pride.”

Buffy dropped her head, suddenly a little ashamed by her passionate outburst. After all, didn’t her mother, Joyce, raise her better then to sermonize or spout off randomly?

“You’re mine,” Spike stated with authority. “You are my girl, Buffy Summers,” he finished by placing a chaste kiss on her sweet forehead.

“I want to be your girl, Will. I do, completely,” she added with a virginal blush. She cuddled his blond, curly head to her lace covered breast. With tender kisses, Buffy tried to comfort and ease her William’s inner torment.

“Go to sleep, Will,” Buffy ordered him, gently. “When we wake up in the morning, I am sure we will have to ride like the wind to escape the hounds of hell from Redemption. For the record, sweet William, I want you to know that Mexico seems like paradise to me, now that is.”


‘Present Day’


Buffy stared out over the Great Salt Lake, still mesmerized by the vastness of the thing. She could not fathom the idea of an ocean even bigger then this.

“I can’t wait for you to see the Gulf, luv,” Spike murmured into her ear. “It’s supposed to be gorgeous; all blue and green water and waves. Promise you’ll swim, in the waves with me, Buffy?”

“I will, promise,” Buffy giggled happily. “Except, I have no proper bathing attire, Will. Whatever shall I wear in the water?” She glanced up at him, coyly, from under hooded lids and dark lashes.

“Nothing sounds pretty good to me,” he mumbled as he gave her little ear a nice sweet kiss.

“You are a cad, William,” Buffy gasped in mock shock, “I do believe that you’re going to be…”

“How sweet,” Graham grunted from behind the couple, interrupting their special moment.

“I thought Angel and me told you to stay away from Miss Summers, Graham,” Spike growled through gritted teeth. “In fact,” he continued in a deceptively calm voice, “I believe my cousin told you to not even glance at my Buffy.”

“He did,” Graham spat in contempt. “Truth is, I come to tell you we need to ride on now. Angel sent me so don’t go gettin’ all fired up at me. Besides,” the taller man grinned at the couple, “can you truly say that Buffy Summers is really your girl? Have you…”

“Don’t say another word,” Spike hissed, pulling his gun out of his holster and aiming it at Graham. “You say another word about Buffy and me and I’ll…”

“Let’s go, Will,” Buffy whispered. “Ignore him, please Will,” she begged. “He’s only trying to get your goat and force your hand.”

“For the record,” Buffy began, glaring at Graham, haughtily, “I ‘am’ William’s girl. Always will be,” she added spitefully.

Without another word, Buffy grasped William’s hand and led him from the shore of the huge lake. She did not look back at the angry, spiteful murderer behind them.

Spike did, however, look back at Graham that is and with the most smug look on his face. ‘Mine’ Spike shouted silently with pride as he followed Buffy to meet his cousin and friends.






“They were here,” Samual Lightfoot grunted as he scoured the empty cabin. “Not long ago neither,” he added; his expression was unreadable.

“Is my darling Buffy still with them, Sam?” Hank Summers pleaded, fearful of the Indian tracker might tell him.

“She is,” Samual replied simply. “I believe they’re headed through the Utah,” the stoic Samual stated without much emotion.

“It makes sense,” Marshal Merrick spat without much emotion. “To take a woman through the prairies of Utah and bypass the harder terrain.”


“Buffy is not ‘just’ any woman,” Hank muttered impatiently. “She is my wife’s and my daughter, our oldest child. The girl is more important to us then anything you can imagine and I won’t have a bunch of heathens just take off with her!”

“Please Mr. Summers,” Deputy Scott Hope pleaded with the older man. “It won’t do no good to get all fired up about this. Samual Lightfoot says that your lovely Buffy is with the gang, safe at least. We need to hold out hope.”

Samual Lightfoot looked at the father of the missing white woman and nodded. He hoped that it gave the Summers man a sense of hope and comfort. The truth was? Lightfoot ‘saw’ things in the traces and signs left behind of the things he tracked. There was a magic afoot here and Samual sensed this.

The girl, Buffy was it? She was not so much being carried away by a heathen sprit. Of that, Samual was certain. No, the young woman was being spirited off by something stronger then a human sprit, good or evil.

Buffy Summers was being swept away from her old life; of that Sam was sure. By something more powerful then human will or a white man’s greed. The young woman these trackers were searching for had been enveloped by the most primal magic’s of all:


‘Love and desire’

Samual was smart enough to realize that these two magic spirits came from the most powerful force in the world. The Great Spirit from above. No man, white, Indian or otherwise, would ever be able to break the spell of the two greatest magic’s known in any world.


“We’ll go down past Sandy and Nephi,” Angel was saying as the gang rode slowly through the prairie land. “We have to avoid Salt Lake City and Provo, at all costs,” the dark haired leader stated. “As much as we’re rebels and renegades with a mission? The good people of Salt Lake and the Utah in general won’t want us to stop by for a chat. If you know what I mean,” he chuckled with an amicable wink at Buffy.

Spike watched Buffy’s reaction, carefully. He was savvy enough to know that his girl was feeling a little guilty, whether she should be or not. If Buffy was not riding along with them? The gang would have been through half of Colorado by now, at least Graham was honest about that.

Without thinking, Spike reached out and took coaxed Buffy’s right hand from the reins of her horse. He grasped her tiny, warm little hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

“You ‘are’ mine,” he assured Buffy sincerely.


“I believe I am,” she replied in a whisper, unable to look directly at William. Her face was hot and flushed from her shyness, but she felt completely free. For once.


A/N: Okay, next chapter, I promise more Spuffy, a lot more. I can’t be sure if I should have Buffy ‘give herself’ to Spike in the next chapter or if I should wait?

Hmmm…

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 13: ‘Regret’


Summary: Hank Summers gets his eyes opened by two very different men. Buffy overhears an argument and misunderstands Spike’s intentions towards her. Something she does puts her and Spuffy in danger.


Buffy lay in the simple bed roll, her eyes focused up on the heavens and the stars in them. William was asleep, next to her, in his own roll, oblivious to the fact that she could not sleep, yet again, tonight.

After a few days in the wilds of the Utah Territory, Buffy had come to realize that sleeping on the open plain was quite the adventure for her. If nothing else, the stars seemed even closer to earth then back in Nebraska. As if Buffy could reach up and touch each shiny, pointed bright light with her hands.

She had become quite used to having William lying as close as he could to her. As close as propriety and decorum would allow that is. Actually, Buffy found his closeness comforting in a lot of ways, especially since that snake, Graham was only yards away from her at night.

From what Angel had said, earlier in the day, Buffy surmised that they were near the territory of Arizona. She could only imagine how far they rode, daily, or what day it truly was. Out here, in the open plains of the Southwest, hours melted into days and days into weeks.

Buffy wondered if her father and the posse from Redemption had finally given up and returned home. Probably not, she reasoned, especially since her father was a somewhat powerful man in the Nebraska territory.

‘Salt Lake City…’


“You couldn’t have missed them,” Marshal Merrick was patiently explaining to the main deputy of Salt Lake City. “A dozen or so rough men and one small woman with them? They had to have made an impression, if they came this way,” he added.

“Nope,” the no name deputy grunted in reply, eyeing the weary looking posse. “No way we’d have missed that outcast bunch,” he continued thoughtfully. “Especially if the young woman was the beauty you say she is.

“But, then again,” the thirty something law man scratched his head in thought, “most folks here in the Utah Territory are thought of as outcasts themselves. We tend to mind our own business and not get caught up in the problems of other territories or states. They didn’t want us? We don’t give a hang about them. It’s simple as that,” he spat.

As Merrick and Hank Summers left the tidy sheriff’s office, the marshal pulled the worried father aside. “We need to talk, Summers,” he mumbled so the rest of the men could not hear.

“It’s about your daughter and the Crawford Gang and well,” the lawman sighed in frustration. “I’m going to be straight Hank,” he continued evenly. “Up in Wyoming, or even here in Utah? We had a chance of catching up to the gang and all. Angel Crawford and his wild bunch have no friends in the Utah, that’s for certain, outcasts or not. But in Arizona? Well, Summers,” Merrick hesitated and tried to read Hank’s expressions.

“Tell me,” Hank murmured. “The truth marshal, all of it.”

“Angel Crawford is well liked in the Southwest, or the South for that matter,” the marshal grunted. “There’s a lot of bad feelings left over, from after the War and Angel is well known in Arizona and New Mexico, as well as Texas, Louisiana, Alabama and of course, Georgia. Just because the Union won the War, doesn’t mean it sits well with the people that ran for the Southwest when it ended, and after.”

“You’re saying that if those ‘men’ make it to Arizona, with my Buffy? We might never…” Hank couldn’t finish the sentence, he felt overwhelmed by physical illness.

I’m saying,” Marshal Merrick muttered, “that Angel Crawford probably has more friends in the Arizona Territory then he has in Wyoming, Nebraska and Kansas put together. If the Crawford’s make it to the Arizona border? Then it’ll be like goin’ to hell and scouting out Satan himself to find them. Crawford has that many friends there. Do you understand me, Hank?”

Samual Lightfoot sidled up to Hank Summers and tapped him on his shoulder. “Summers,” the Indian grunted, “need to talk to you,” he motioned for Hank to join him.

“Yes, Samual,” Hank followed the taller man down the street a ways.

“It’s about your girl,” Sam continued evenly. “I just want to say some things; make things clear to you. If and when we bring your daughter home…”

“We will,” Hank growled angrily. “Buffy belongs at home, in Redemption, with me and her family!”

“Not sayin’ she does or don’t,” Samual grunted again. “I’m sayin’ that if she does come home with us? You’d best expect some changes in the girl. Maybe for the good? Maybe for the bad? But there’ll be changes in the girl There’s magic afoot, Summers,” Sam stated knowingly. “Magic that’s powerful strong and nothin’ that any man can do will change it. Your girl? She’s not gonna’ want to go back to your home, Summers. Not willingly. This magic I’m talkin’ about is so strong that not even white men can fix it.”

Hank stared at Samual Lightfoot, stunned. If he was a less logical man, Hank Summers might truly believe what the tall, imposing man in front of him had to say.


Buffy glanced about the makeshift camp, wondering where William had disappeared to. She noticed that Graham was also missing, as was Riley Finn. There was something about this Finn fellow that intrigued Buffy; something almost mystical, or all-knowing about the large man.

Finally, Buffy found William, standing in front of Graham and Riley. By his stance and the fact that she could hear angry words between the trio, Buffy realized that a heated argument was going on. William had his back to her, so she crept up behind him, careful not to be heard or seen.

“If you’d thought with your head, instead of your dick, Giles, then maybe we’d nearly be in Mexico by now,” Graham spat angrily.

“And if you’d not of murdered that sheriff in Redemption,” Spike growled loudly, “I wouldn't of had to have dragged Buffy along with us!”

Buffy froze in place, stunned by the crass words and harsh tone in both of the men’s voices. ‘Uncle Richard ‘is’ dead,’ she suddenly realized, painfully. ‘He’s been dead and Will didn’t tell me,’ she reasoned as tiny, hot tears spilled out of green eyes.

Apparently, Graham and Riley had noticed Buffy, silently weeping behind William. Graham smirked at Will and before Riley could stop him, the murderer asked loudly, “so Spike, has grabbin’ the skirt paid off? She let you slip her pretty little panties off and…”

“You fucking bastard!” Spike roared as he leapt at Graham and began to pummel the larger man with his fists. “You don’t talk about Buffy like that,” the blond man screamed wildly.

“No!” Buffy cried out in protest. She ran to the fighting men and glared at Riley. “Stop them!” She ordered the huge man, angrily.

“Can’t,” Riley grunted with a shrug, “this is between two men. Over your honor, Miss Summers. I can’t do anything…”

“God dammit!” Buffy cursed loudly as she pulled at William. “You men are so God damned bull headed and full of stupid nobility…” she stopped before she spewed anymore filth and concentrated on ending the fight.

“Stop it, Will,” Buffy screamed, noticing that Angel and Rupert Giles had finally joined them. With Angel grabbing Graham and Rupert pulling his son back, the fight ended as quickly as it started.

“Enough!” Angel roared, enraged. “We’ve got half of Nebraska out gunning for us and you two decide to kill each other? Bright, cousin,” he spat at Spike. “I fucking regret ever dragging this girl with us!” Angel glared at his cousin before storming off in a rage.

“What’s this about?” Rupert asked quietly of his son, knowing full well what the answer had to be.

“He insulted Buffy,” Spike mumbled to his father, even as he glared at Graham.

“She’s a burden,” Graham hissed at Rupert, but his dark eyes were on Buffy. “Just because your son wants a piece of ass he drags along this,” the hateful man sneered at Buffy now. “She’s slowed us down, caused us nothin’ but trouble and Spike’ll probably just dump her off at the border anyhow. When he’s done with her, right Spike?” Graham glared at Spike, now, his dark eyes gleamed with jealousy and hatred.

Buffy looked at Graham, then at Rupert, and finally at William. Her huge green eyes were filled with fresh tears of pain and humiliation.

She noted that William didn’t speak up too quickly to deny what this Graham was saying. Her heart broke into a million pieces, instantly and without saying another word, Buffy fled from the group of men.

Of course, Buffy had no idea where she was running off to; she just ran. Her heartbreak and pain from William’s betrayal caused her to blindly flee from her captors.

‘He didn’t tell me Uncle Richard was dead,’ her pained mind cried as she stumbled through prairie bush and shrub. ‘What if Graham’s right? What if Will really just wanted to use me as a hostage and seduce me? Then dump me off at the nearest border town, without…’

“Buffy!” She could hear the shouts of the men behind her, but she stumbled on into the rough terrain. Prairie brush and rough trees seemed to reach out and try to grab at her.

“Buffy, stop!” William’s voice could be heard above the others; as he seemed to be the closest to her now.

‘He loves me,’ she tried to reassure herself as she ran on, blindly.

‘If he does, you little idiot…..how come he didn’t tell you about Uncle Richard? What if Graham is right?’ The insecure little voice in her mind taunted her with ugly accusations.

‘I hate him,’ Buffy assured herself, even as she wept, ‘I hate you William Giles and I regret every laying eyes on you! With all of my heart and soul…’

Buffy tripped, suddenly, over some errant rock in her path. She tried to catch herself, but only succeeded in slipping backwards and hitting her golden head on what felt like a boulder. Everything went black.


A/N: I tussled with this chapter and frankly, I don’t really like it at all. However, I needed to have Buffy ‘confused’ for a little while about Spike. Things will get better and soon between Spike and Buffy and yes, there will be Spuffy sex very soon. Promise.

Thanks for reading, please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 14: ‘Fevered’


Summary: Buffy is fevered from her accident. Riley will step in and offer his help to Spike and Buffy. Will Spike allow his fellow outlaw to come to their aid?



“The fever, Rupert,” Angel Crawford mumbled guiltily to his uncle, “it’s awful bad.” Angel glanced at Spike with concern. His blond cousin held Buffy Summers’ golden head in his lap and stroked her head so lovingly. This sight made Angel feel like real shit for the harsh words he had spewed earlier.

“Riley says that if we don’t do something soon, to break the high fever? She’ll be worse then dead,” Angel muttered with regret. The large, dark-haired outlaw felt somewhat responsible for poor Buffy’s present illness. If he just hadn’t of said those angry words, back at the boulder where Spike and Graham were fighting? Maybe, Buffy wouldn’t of run off and gotten hurt so bad.

“Oh, God, Princess,” Spike murmured tenderly as he continued to stroke her face gently. “Please, please be okay baby.”

“Little Hank’s birthday,” Buffy muttered confused from her fever. “It’s his party today. I have to roast the sweet potatoes, it’s my job,” she whimpered in her delirium.

‘I wonder if it’s really the boy’s birthday?’ Spike asked himself for the third time in an hour. Buffy had been mumbling about her brother’s birthday and parties for hours now. Again, Spike felt the sting of guilt and remorse at having dragged the love of his life into this mess they were in.

“William,” Rupert Giles called to his only son, “come here. Angel has some things to talk to you about. I’ll watch over Buffy for a bit, son,” he added with a sympathetic nod.

Spike reluctantly eased Buffy’s head down onto the makeshift pillow that he’d placed there earlier. He stumbled over to Angel and Riley, even as his father took his place at Buffy’s head.

“Miss Summers needs help, Spike,” Riley grunted matter-of-factly. “Her fever’s got her in a bad way and if we don’t break it? Well…” the tall dark haired man shrugged and looked away from the blond outlaw, unable to face the fear in Spike’s eyes.

“What the fuck do you propose we do, Finn?” Spike snarled in frustration, his blue eyes never left Buffy’s sweet face.

“I’ve got herbs,” Riley offered evenly, “strong ones. They’ve treated my mother’s people for hundreds of years and…”

“Peyote?” Spike snorted in disbelief. “You’re going to make my Buffy smoke the devil’s weed?”

“Well she can hardly smoke it, now can she?” Riley replied gruffly. “I’d make up a drink, kind of, from boiled peyote and cactus milk. I don’t get the white man,” he sneered, “the Indian has had this elixir forever and yet you don’t accept it. Peyote is the Earth Spirit’s gift to the man creation. It can clear the mind and open a window to the soul. The girl ‘is’ your soulmate, Spike,” Riley nodded at Buffy, who still mumbled incoherently. “Help her,” the part Shawnee Indian ordered roughly.

“I…” Spike choked, unable to continue as Buffy muttered something about Caleb Montgomery.

“Mama,” Buffy mumbled dryly, “my wedding is in a few months and I’ve ruined my dress. It’s all torn and dirty. Caleb, he’ll be so disappointed in me and…”

“It’s the fever,” Riley explained, honestly, to Spike. “She’s burning up with it and only the peyote might help.”

“Do it,” Spike rasped desperately. “Do what you have to do to bring my Buffy back to me.” His heart began to race and Spike felt like crying, manly or not, in front of these rough men.


Buffy was dreaming, that was for sure and she welcomed the sweet visions with open arms. There was an ocean and even in her dream-like state, Buffy could tell that the deep blue water went on for infinity. She wore a beautiful gossamer dress, all white and silver that flowed about her like a breeze.

Cool, damp sand squeezed up between Buffy’s bare toes as she skipped along the beach with two small children in hand. There was a blond girl, about three or so, who clasped Buffy’s right hand, tightly. The boy, maybe five or so, he clutched onto her left hand and squealed, along with his sister, so it seemed.

“Daddy!” The two children screamed loudly at Buffy’s curly haired William, who waded into the blue waves. “It’s our turn,” the girl and boy yelped in glee. “You promised, Daddy! We get to play in the waves with you!”

“You’re right.” Buffy heard William chuckle warmly, “it is your turn to play in the waves. Have your Mum bring you to the water’s edge. I’ll hold you both on my shoulders. I promise not to let the ocean knock you down, poppets. Daddy’ll take care of you both, just like I do your mum and…”


“Go away,” Riley ordered Spike and Rupert, gruffly. “Send Xander and Gunn over here,” he continued with authority. “The girl doesn’t need you seein’ her, anymore like this. Go on,” he urged the frantic, lovesick Spike. “I’ll make sure she’s okay, I swear it,” Riley finished with a self-assured nod.

“Riley, I…” Spike stammered, even as his father grabbed him and pulled him away from Riley and Angel.

“She’ll be okay,” Riley grunted as he turned to the campfire and began to mix up something in the pot that hung there. Angel slipped off from his friend and went to retrieve Xander and Gunn to help Riley.

Spike sat on a rock, a big one, smoking a cigarette and trying to keep from crying like a bloody schoolboy. Angel flopped down next to his cousin and lit up his own smoke.

“Riley will make it better, I swear to God, Spike he will,” Angel mumbled.

“He has to,” Spike replied in a shaky voice, “I love her, Buffy I mean. She has to be okay.” He felt like a fucking shit, Spike did, about Buffy, bringing her out here in the wilds and taking her away from the safety of her family.

“She cares for you, you know?” Angel muttered as he stared up at the black night sky. “I can tell, Spike. Buffy loves you, even if she’s a bit gun shy and all. Can’t blame her really. Can you?”

“No,” Spike sighed deeply, taking a long drag from his smoke. “I’m a real shit for dragging her along in all this.” He hung his head in shame, and fear, as to what was going on in the clearing just yards away from them.

“Yeah, you are a real piece of shit for dragging the little skirt along, ain’t you, Spike?” Graham had slipped over to the two cousins and now smirked at the blond outlaw.

“So you gonna let the heathen doctor your so called soulmate? Let him pour poison down her sweet little throat and…”

“I”ll fucking tear your head off!” Spike roared before Angel could pull his cousin back from Graham. Spike stood, captured by his own cousin’s stronger arms and glared at Graham with hate in his eyes.

“Riley has more spiritual faith and goodness in his dick then you have in your whole worthless hide, Graham! I swear to God, Graham,” Angel growled with menace, “if you don’t shut your fucking mouth? I’ll put a bullet through your thick head myself!”

“Whatever you say,” Graham spat as he sauntered off from the cousins.

Spike stared, nervously, towards the clearing that Riley had taken Buffy to. He wondered if he had truly made the right decision for the love of his life.

“If it was me?” Angel muttered, drawing on his own cigarette, “and my Darla was in danger and all? I’d do this in a heartbeat, Spike. I’d let Riley do what he has to; what you’re lettin’ him do.”

“If the peyote don’t help Buffy, Angel? I’m takin’ her straight to St. George. They’ll have some kind of a doctor there, I’m sure. You all go on without us and I’ll…”

“They’ll turn you right over to the posse,” Angel scowled at his cousin’s words. “They might hang you themselves, in St. George if…”

“Don’t give a fuck!” Spike growled, cutting off his cousin’s warning. “Buffy’s gotta’ get better, Angel. I can’t live without her. Not ever again.”

Angel eyed his sad, blue-eyed cousin with sympathy; he’d meant what he’d said earlier. If it was his own beloved wife, Darla? Angel would let Riley try and help her in a heartbeat.

“Riley’ll fix it, Spike,” Angel reached over and patted the smaller blond man’s back with his right hand. “He’ll make Buffy all better, I’m sure of it,” he finished with a slight smile. The dark haired man wondered if he was truly trying to convince Spike or himself?

“Thanks,” Spike grunted. Even though he still wasn’t sure of just what it was Riley was going to do for Buffy? He had a feeling it was the only course of action he could take right now.


“Xander, get some cool water, on a clean rag and keep running it on Miss Summers’ forehead,” Riley ordered his best friend evenly. “Gunn, I’m gonna’ need you to hold Miss Summers arms down, about her. When I try and give her the elixir and all. The little one there,” Riley nodded at Buffy, “she’s tiny but I’m bettin’ she’s strong as an ox. Can’t have her knockin’ the potion out of my hands, now, can I?”

“Will it really work,” Xander asked anxiously as he eyed the pot that Riley worked over.

“Remember when you were a boy and near died from that killer fever?” Riley inquired of Xander without even looking at him; he just continued to stir the hot potion in the boiling pot.

“Barely,” Xander grunted in reply. “Only remember bein’ sick as hell,” he finished with a frown.

“Well, my mother, “she treated you with peyote and some other herbs,” Riley continued. “Your mother and mine broke your fever with this and you turned out okay, right? At least I think you turned out okay,” Riley smirked slightly.


“Will, where are you?” Buffy screamed in delirium. “Where are you, William? The children, I can’t find them and we need you!” She cried desperately, sending Spike running to her. Rupert followed right behind his son.

Spike crashed into the clearing and pushed Xander aside, taking the cool rag in his own sure hands. “I’m here, Princess,” he rasped, terrified by his love’s rantings; trying to use the cold water to cool her fevered brow.

“I’m having Gunn hold her arms,” Riley began to explain matter-of-factly. “Your soulmate is a tough little thing, Spike,” he continued as he dipped a brass cup into the pot and scooped out the hot liquid. “You hold your girl’s head, gently, Gunn holds her down; I’ll have to have both hands free. I need to feed her the medicine and hold her mouth open. She’s not going to like the taste, that’s for sure,” he finished quickly.

“Oh, God, Riley,” Spike groaned as he gazed down at Buffy’s ashen colored face. “She’s burnin’ up, man. Isn’t there anything else we can do?” He finished with a plea to Riley, his blue eyes wide with gut wrenching fear.

“When was the last time you prayed,” Riley asked with a shrug of his massive shoulders. He lifted the now warm elixir up to the girl’s pale lips.

“Don’t remember,” Spike mumbled under his breath. He suddenly felt remiss at not talking to God for a while and hoped the old man upstairs would listen to him now.

“Try to remember how to, then,” Riley ordered gently, “some prayer sure as hell wouldn’t hurt. Wouldn’t hurt any of us, really.”

“Now,” Riley nodded at Gunn to hold Buffy’s arms and at Spike to secure her head. Which the blond did, as tenderly as possible.

“Come on little one,” Riley murmured to the delirious young woman, “You drink this up and make your William proud of you.”

“Tastes bad,” Buffy whimpered, trying to spit the nasty stuff from her mouth.

“I know, honey,” Riley mumbled sympathetically, “but it’s going to bring you back to us. Please, please drink it, like a good girl.”

Spike watched as Riley forced the God awful looking elixir into his love’s lush little mouth and down her throat. Buffy tried to shake her head away; tried to knock the cup from Riley’s huge hand. Gunn held firm, as did Spike, but it killed him to see the look of horror in Buffy’s half-closed eyes.

‘She’s hotter then hell,’ he repeated to himself. ‘If this doesn’t work? She’ll be…’

Riley finally got Buffy to drink the whole cup of evil tasting medicine. The usually stoic, quiet young man actually grinned when the tiny woman swallowed the last drop.

“There now,” Riley grunted. “We’ll need to watch her, for the next couple of hours. If this is gonna’ work, she should fall off to sleep. The rambling won’t stop though,” he warned Spike. “She’ll ramble on and on; in fact, it’ll get worse before it gets better. Don’t put much stock in what she babbles,” he added in a knowing voice. “It’s just fever babble, nothing more.”

“When will we know?” Spike asked in a shaky, tear-filled voice. “When the fever’s broke and she’s better?” He tried hard not to let the tears of fright slip down his face.

“Like I said. Miss Summers will fall into sleep; the rambling won’t stop, necessarily. If the medicine took? In a couple of hours, her fever will break and she’ll sweat a lot. That’s the sign,” he continued with a self-assured nod. “The sweatin’ is a sure sign that the fever’s broke and she’ll be okay again.”


‘Meanwhile, back at the Summers’ farm’


“I wish Buffy was here,” little Hank Summers whimpered in his childish voice. “Nobody roasts my birthday yams like Buffy,” he finished, wistfully.

“I know baby,” Joyce sighed, “and she would be here, if she could be, but…” The mother looked out over the wide plain of her family farm. She fought the urge to cry, especially in front of her only son. Especially on this day, of all days; his birthday.

“Do you think Daddy will bring Buffy home safe, Mama?” Hank asked suddenly, his blue eyes wide with trepidation.

“I do,” Joyce replied quickly, trying more to convince herself then anything. “But, Hank,” she stammered, trying to find the right words. “Never mind,” she sighed again, deciding that it was best not to voice her insecurities and worries about Buffy, or her own husband. Especially when the poor boy looked as if he was about to break down and cry.


“Buffy,” Spike murmured, lovingly, “please come back to me, Princess. I need you so much and love you even more then that. Please be okay and I promise, I’ll…” He couldn’t finish, just choked on the tears he tried to fight and stroked Buffy’s hot face, tenderly.

“William,” Buffy breathed more then spoke his name.

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered. “I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, ever. I’ll never leave you, Princess, never,” he promised, hoping that she could hear and understand him.

“The horses, Will. They’ve broken from the barn and little Will’s gone to catch them. Go find our son, please William. I’m frightened and…” Buffy muttered on, but Spike could barely understand her as her voice was so weak with fever.

Spike ran some cool water down Buffy’s pale face and neck, careful not to press the rag onto her sensitive flesh too roughly. He was beginning to think that St. George might be his only option now. Suddenly, Buffy began to flail about, in his strong arms as she cried out in apparent pain:

“It hurts, Will! It hurts worse then anything I’ve known! Please, come back to me. Don’t send me away or leave me! I need you, love you…”

As fast as the rambling began, it ended and Spike glanced up at Riley who stood over the couple, a scowl on his large, handsome face.

“It should break, soon. The fever,” Finn nodded at Spike. “She’s going to be fine, Giles,” he grunted. “The girl will need some rest, but she’s tough, like you. She’ll come ‘round soon, now. I feel it.”

As if Buffy heard Riley’s words and thought to obey them, Spike felt his love clasp his left hand with hers. The next thing he heard was Buffy’s desperate scream of terror as her body thrashed about again.

“William!” Buffy repeated her desperate cry, then Spike felt her body go limp. His heart nearly stopped; he was that afraid of looking at her beautiful face, fearing the pain he might find there.

When he got the courage to actually look at Buffy, he found that her forehead and cheeks were drenched in sweat. Getting up his nerve, Spike attentively felt her forehead first, then her right cheek and was overjoyed to find that they were now cool again.

“It’s broke,” Spike gasped in near disbelief. “Buffy’s fever, Riley, it’s broke! Just like you said!” At the moment, Spike could not have cared less that he finally broke down and began to cry tears of joy and relief.

“Yeah,” Riley mumbled in response, as if he himself didn’t quite believe it. “Let’s go,” the big man motioned to Xander and Gunn who both followed Riley away from Spike and Buffy.

“Oh, Buffy,” Spike sobbed, “I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you so much and…”

“Will?” Buffy whispered as she half opened her beautiful green eyes. “You’re here,” she sighed dreamily, a small smile on her lovely lips.

“Of course I am,” Spike murmured, wiping the tears from his eyes quickly. ‘Won’t do any good to have Buffy see how close she came to…’ he could not finish the awful thought, even.

“I knew that my bad Buffy voice was wrong,” she whispered in a scratchy weak voice. “She said you didn’t love me, that you’d leave me alone and…”

“Never!” Spike replied strongly, stroking her cheek gently. “I love you and I will never, never leave you. It’ll take God, Satan or the both of them to drive us apart, Buffy. Do you understand?”


“I do,” Buffy chuckled weakly. “It’s a good thing, too,” she yawned widely. “I love you and I’d hate to have to hunt you down and drag you back with me. Will?”

“Yes,” Spike murmured as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I’m really tired,” she yawned again, her pink tongue and mouth reminding Spike of a little soft kitten. “Can I go to sleep now? With you here?”

“Absolutely,” Spike choked out. “I’ll be right here, baby. When you wake up.”


A/N: I hope this chapter is okay. I didn’t want to make it too sappy and yet I wanted it emotional. This is the turning point for Buffy and Spike. Do you suppose that Buffy’s ‘dreams’ might just be prophetic???

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.



“

Chapter 15: ‘A Clean, Comfy Loft’


Summary: Buffy and the gang finally reach the Arizona Territory in this chapter. The Spuffy relationship is about to take a big, big turn (for the better!). Two more beloved characters from BTVS/ATS are going to make an appearance in this chapter. I have taken some liberties with last names of characters.

A/N: Thank you for reading this fiction.


Chapter 15:


It had been nearly a week since Buffy’s near death from fever. A day or two after Riley had saved her life; Buffy insisted that she was well enough to ride on. Spike was still concerned and balked at the idea, but Buffy was stubborn. One of the many tough traits that Spike loved about his golden goddess.

Since the day Riley used his tribe’s medicine to cure Buffy, both she and Spike had thanked the man a thousand times. Riley would usually just nod a silent ‘you’re welcome’ and go about his normal business. Once in a great while, Spike noticed, the big man would favor Buffy with a rare grin or soft smile.

Of course Buffy just thought that Riley was near Godlike, especially after William had explained everything to her. However, her gratitude to Riley Finn was just that, gratitude, and she made sure that Will would not confuse it as anything else.

Buffy was constantly by William’s side now, careful to stay close to him, as he wanted her to. She didn’t mind, of course, and she knew that Will realized she had spoken the truth to him. When she had come out of her fever induced delusions that is.

William was the man for Buffy, she could now freely admit it, in fact, and she had. Once the fever had broken and Buffy woke up to find her Will, holding her, staring fearfully into her eyes, she had not only recognized his love for her; she repeated his sincere, heart-felt admissions back to him.

Spike rode along side Buffy, glancing at her from time-to-time, lovingly. She was his, he knew that now, his completely. Oh, they hadn’t made love together, that was true, but they were one, still. They were now bonded in love and spirit together, now and forever more.

The blond outlaw had watched, mesmerized, just a few days before as his Buffy stood at the rim of the Grand Canyon. Buffy had just stood there with tear filled eyes as she gazed out at one of nature’s most beautiful creations. Her green eyes were wide with awe at the sight before her, oblivious to how she was affecting Spike.

While he watched Buffy’s childlike wonder at the beauty of the huge canyon, Spike fell in love even more with her. He had almost lost her; his salvation that was Buffy, he’d almost lost her.

When Buffy had turned to him, her green eyes filled with happy tears of wonder, Spike was reminded that his love had never even seen an ocean. An odd thought, really, considering everything the couple had been through in the last couple of weeks. However, Buffy had never felt the cold, salty goodness of an ocean’s waves against her body. She had never experienced the uniqueness of a sea’s smell or seen the grandness of its size and strength.

The Grand Canyon of the Arizona Territory was amazing, this was the truth. But it paled in comparison, Spike knew, to the magnificence of and ocean’s force or the pull of its incredible, almost brutal power.

For the thousandth time, Spike thanked God that He had spared Buffy’s life back in Utah. Buffy was his, Spike’s, forever and always and he intended on always being with her. To give her his love and show her the wonder of the world they lived in.

They were close to Flagstaff in the rough and tumble Arizona Territory, now. The Crawford Gang, and Buffy Summers were getting close to the nearest thing to a real town in the rough wilds of Arizona.

This was the Arizona that still somewhat belonged to Cochise and his legendary family of Apaches. Even if the white man had seemingly run the Indians up into the mountains? Cochise and his tribe still truly controlled the raw Arizona frontier. Especially in the southern area of the Territory, near the Mexico border.

“We’re near Uncle Doyle and Aunt Cordelia’s ranch,” Buffy heard Angel crow gleefully as he spurred his huge horse foreword.

“Another uncle and aunt?” Buffy halted Buttermilk and looked at William, who smiled in response.

“My mum’s little half-sister,” Spike chuckled good-naturedly. “I don’t really know her well, as we’ve only met once or twice. She scandalized my grandfather, me mum's dad. Aunt Cordelia, that is. When she ran off with a daring young Irishman by the name of Doyle Quinn. My grandfather was horrified when Auntie Cordelia took off with the upstart Quinn and headed out here to Arizona. If Cordelia hadn’t of already been showin’ with a babe, three or four months when her and Doyle took off from…”

“Nevermind!” Buffy mumbled with a bright, hot blush. “I’ll let your aunt tell me the rest,” she trailed off with a virtuous sigh.

They rode on, over the rough, dry terrain of the Arizona desert that seemed to stretch on forever. It was truly a harsh, unforgiving place and Buffy cringed at the thought of a young woman such as Cordelia Quinn, living out here in this vast wasteland.

‘Could I do it?’ Buffy asked herself as she gingerly surveyed the surrounding arid land, enclosed by some oddly out of place green mountains. ‘Could I live here, like this? Living this hard life? So far away from family and friends in a rugged, unholy place that seemed like hell on earth?’

The troupe had finally reached the foothills of some out of place huge bluffs that Buffy was shocked to recognize as actual mountains. When she squinted against the early morning sun, she saw the tell tale barbed wire fence that stretched for miles, or so it seemed. Off in the distance, Buffy spied a huge ranch house and a barn close to it in size.

“That’s Uncle Doyle’s place,” Angel yelped in the voice of an excited school boy. “We’re here!” He cried with joy as he spurred his horse on even faster.

Buffy noticed that Rupert Giles actually smiled for the first time in three days. For some reason, this gave her a renewed sense of hope and she grinned at William, who smiled back at her, adoringly.

“It’ll be fine,” Spike murmured to Buffy as he grabbed her horse’s reins and pulled her along into the huge gateway of the ranch. He knew of his wild, free-spirited aunt, but he couldn’t quite remember her. The last time he had seen his Aunt Cordelia, Spike had been about ten or so. Now, this all seemed oddly like a dream to him. Every adult in the Giles/Calendar family had coughed, delicately behind their well-groomed hands at the mention of Cordelia Calendar-Quinn, the wild child of the family line.

When the young woman and group of rough men reached the front of ranch house, they were met by a dark, good looking man. However, it was the dark haired woman by the man’s side that caught Buffy’s eye.

“That’s somebody’s aunt!” She gasped in shock at William. Cordelia Quinn, even from where Buffy sat, was the epitome of a true Southern lady. Buffy could tell that the woman was quite lovely, about thirty-something and probably as tough as hard tack nails. She would have to be, Buffy determined quickly. There were three boys and an even younger girl, Cordelia and Doyle’s children, obviously, standing next to the couple on the porch.

When Angel slipped off his horse, Cordelia broke from the porch and threw herself into her huge nephew’s arms. “My dear, dear, naughty wicked boys!” Cordelia squealed, gleefully, reaching out to take Rupert Giles in her embrace. “Where’s your brat, Rupert,” Cordy grinned and stared up at Spike who still sat on his horse, next to Buffy’s.

“Come down here, William Giles,” Cordelia ordered her nephew. “Let me take a look at you and your pretty little ‘guest’ you seem to have dragged along with you.”

For some reason, Buffy immediately relaxed when Mrs. Quinn acknowledged both her and Will. The young blond woman knew, by instinct, that she was going to just adore this formidable Western woman. That’s why, once William had dismounted and reached up for Buffy, she eagerly slid into his strong arms and hurried over to ‘meet’ Aunt Cordelia Calendar-Quinn.

Later, after the group had gotten settled in various rooms of the ranch house, Buffy joined Cordelia for a sit out on the front porch. Buffy was not the least bit surprised when the lady lit up a cigarette and took a deep satisfying drag from it.

‘She even makes smoking look classy,’ Buffy giggled to herself. ‘I bet I could learn a lot from Cordelia…’

“So, you and my nephew, huh?” Cordy asked with a kind smile in her melodic southern drawl.

“Well, yeah,” Buffy stammered, taken a bit by surprise this time at Aunt Cordy’s bluntness.

“He told me you had to be a ‘little’ persuaded,” Cordelia chuckled roughly. She took another drag from her smoke and winked at Buffy affectionately.

“Uh, huh,” Buffy mumbled with a bright, hot blush that slowly crept up her neck to her cheeks. There was the most unusual looking spider crawling along the porch edge and suddenly, Buffy’s interest and sight were focused on it.

“Are you a virgin?” Cordelia asked abruptly, watching Buffy for her reaction.

“What!” Buffy squealed like a stunned little piglet. Now her cheeks felt violently hot and flushed as she gaped at the older woman in shock.

“You are,” Cordy chuckled, answering her own question. “But you won’t be for long, not if my nephew has any say in it. And,” she continued, before Buffy could retort, “don’t worry, he’ll make an honest woman of you when he does. He’s a gentleman, just like his daddy and…”

“Cordelia,” Buffy began, trying to get her emotions and voice in calm control. “I don’t think this is something you and I should be talking about. Do you really?”

“Actually, probably we should,” Cordelia laughed heartily. “I think maybe I can give you a little insight into what makes your William tick. I’m sure he’s told you ‘something’ about my sister and niece,” Cordy’s face grew dark and her smiled faded quickly.

“He has and I understand why William and his father do the things they do. I even know Angel and Connor’s story, and something about the rest of the men, but…”

“So, what’s holding you back?” Cordy grinned wickedly at Buffy and stubbed out her cigarette on the porch.

“I, I’m, well I am a virgin,” Buffy muttered, ashamed that she sounded almost embarrassed by her admission. “I do care for William and he cares for me, but…”

“Cares for you would be an understatement,” the aunt laughed again. “He loves you crazy, that’s obvious to everyone. Even you, I’ll wager,” she added with a grin at Buffy.

“I can tell you’re crazy about him too, so? What’s the hold up and why don’t you two just do the deed and relax together?” Cordelia finished with a shrug.

“It’s, uhm, been kind of hectic, lately?” Buffy offered weakly staring at that darn spider again. “And there is the dozen outlaws hanging around that kind of puts a damper on things, you know?” The little blond woman replied in a soft, almost wistful tone.

“I can see how that might be a problem,” Cordy scrunched up her face in thought. “Since you’re going to sleep in my only daughter’s room, with her, while you’re here? The problem remains unresolved, eh?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Buffy whispered, wiggling around in discomfort on the porch chair she sat in. Finally, she met Cordelia’s warm brown eyes, only to find pure compassion there.

“Buffy,” Cordelia sighed, “I’m thinking that you may need to seize the day, so to speak. Now, I know for a fact that William is in the barn, seeing to some horses and he is the ‘only’ one in the barn. There just so happens to be a very nice, clean and comfy loft in the barn. So, I’m thinking that if you were to go to the barn, right now, have a little talk with your man? Let him know that you both need to get to know each other better; relax together? I’m thinking that you’d have all the privacy in the world in that loft.”

Buffy sat frozen in the chair and watched as Cordelia stood up and smoothed down her skirt. “I have to get back inside,” she sighed deeply. “If I know my husband? He’s got the best whisky out for Rupert and the others. They’re going to play cards and get drunker then skunks half the night. That’s okay though,” she laughed and patted Buffy’s shoulder, “it means definite privacy in the barn.”

“Okay,” Buffy mumbled, unable to look at Aunt Cordelia. “Uhm, thank you?” She called as the brunette slipped back into her house.

‘Hmmm,’ Buffy murmured silently, gazing at the barn just a hundred yards or so away.


Spike was feeding his horse when he heard the barn door open, slightly, and someone slip inside. He didn’t look up at ‘the person’ because he didn’t need to. He sensed right off that it was his Buffy.

“Come to help feed these beasts, Princess?” He asked her jovially, but smiled to himself, pleased she’d joined him.

“No,” Buffy replied in a gentle, soft voice that alerted Spike that something was different, suddenly. Something had happened, or changed with Buffy and he turned to seek out her gaze. The truth was, he had begun to be able to read her like a book and Spike realized that something in their relationship was about to take a turn for the better.

When Buffy closed the barn door quietly, then locked it behind her, Spike ‘knew’ something was about to change for the better.

“You okay, luv?” Spike asked her, somewhat confused by now. Not that he was unhappy. How could he be when she was coming towards him like a sleek cat? Her whole demeanor was soft and purely feminine in the way Buffy was walking to him. The look in her beautiful green eyes spoke volumes.

“We need to talk,” Buffy whispered as she closed the gap between them. Their gazes never broke from each other.

“Okay,” Spike replied tenderly, even as he licked his suddenly dry lips. “What do you want to talk…”

Before he could finish, Buffy reached him and wrapped her slim arms about his shoulders. She could feel his trembling body, even though her own was shaking like a leaf.

“Not talk, really,” she sighed dreamily, gently removing his work gloves from his hands and placing them on her hips. “Less talk, more this,” she purred, standing on her tip toes and placing a sweet, yet heated kiss on his lovely mouth.

Spike, throwing caution to the wind, deepened the kiss immediately. He didn’t know where this was coming from, and really didn’t give a fuck. Buffy was coming around, finally, and he had every intention of helping her come full circle.

When she broke the kiss, rather quickly, Spike felt, he tried not to seem too disappointed. After all, Buffy was a young, innocent girl, really, even if he loved her to no end and…..

“Come on,” Buffy whispered slyly, her arms fell from his shoulders. Instead, she took his left hand in her right one and began to walk him towards the ladder to the loft.

If Spike had been confused before? He sure as hell wasn’t now and he followed her like a smitten puppy. Spike placed his right hand on Buffy’s lush little bottom, to help her up the ladder to the loft. His heart sung with joy as he followed his angel up to paradise.



A/N: Well, I know it’s not a ‘real’ bed, but there’s a lot to be said for ‘carpe diem’ right! The next chapter will probably be entitled ‘Paradise’ or at least I think it will.

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 16: ‘Paradise’


Summary: Spike and Buffy’s first time together. That’s pretty much it in this chapter (tee hee).

A/N: Thank you for reading this fiction. It means so much to me, spuf.


Spike followed Buffy up the ladder to the loft, much like a smitten puppy. Except, this woman, this wonderful, beautiful exquisite creature was not just some pet owner and he was certainly no puppy.

Buffy was Spike’s everything and after this, things would only get better between them. He had no doubt about that and whatever had spurred Buffy to this life-altering moment? Well, it didn’t matter in the least, the reason for her sudden decision here.

Their love making together in itself was going to be monumental for both of them and Spike was sure of that. Spike only hoped that Buffy would ultimately enjoy this bonding of theirs, if that’s what she truly had in mind, that is.

‘Christ,’ he thought, suddenly not so sure if he’d read his Buffy’s intentions just right. ‘What if Buffy only wants to kiss and talk up here?’ They had reached the loft and Spike glanced around the clean, cozy looking spot. Of course, there was hay on the floor of the loft, but it looked as if it was fresh and a clean, comfortable looking blanket hung on a hook on the wall.

“Buffy?” Spike inquired, fairly unsure by now as to what was going on here.

“Come over here,” Buffy instructed William with a feminine purr that she knew would drive him near mad. She crooked her finger and motioned him to join her on the hay that lay strewn about the loft floor.

Spike hesitated, briefly, before pulling the clean blanket down from the hook and tossing it onto the hay that covered the wooden floor. He gazed at Buffy, his left brow raised in question as he now motioned ‘her’ to join him on the blanket.

Buffy reached out her hand and allowed William to take it, leading her to the blanket that lay out on the floor. The couple never broke their mutual gaze as he took her tiny hand and led her to the cover he’d laid out over the hay.

Spike lay down, next to Buffy and took her in his arms. “I mean it, Princess,” he murmured lovingly, “if you want to wait? We can. I’ll find a priest, in Nogales, or maybe even Tucson, that can marry us. Before we…” Spike’s voice trailed off, as he was concerned about how Buffy would react to his declarations.

He was finding it hard to look at Buffy, afraid that she might change her mind before they finished this. If ‘this’ was what she had in mind in the first place that is.

“I do want to marry you, Will,” Buffy whispered as she stroked his handsome face with her tiny hand. “But I do want ‘this’ even more. At least for now,” she explained in a shy, virginal tone.

“Thank God,” Spike sighed in relief, taking Buffy into his arms and just holding her tightly.

“I love you so much, Buffy,” Spike murmured, placing tender little kisses on her soft cheeks and lush lips. He was rewarded when Buffy shivered against him. Of course, he was shivering himself and he was afraid it might scare Buffy off.

“I know you do,” Buffy whispered back, trying to keep the shakiness out of her voice. “If I didn’t ‘know’ you love me, Will? I wouldn’t be here, with you now. I love you too, you know?”

“I know,” Spike murmured softly, his mouth found Buffy’s and kissed her tenderly. Unable to control himself, he deepened the kiss and shivered in delight when Buffy returned his passion.

They broke their kiss and gazed into each other’s eyes, lovingly yes, but there was also desire and need in them. Spike always knew that Buffy had the most beautiful green eyes, but now? They were almost the shade of a cool deep green ocean and, just as powerful.

“You’re afraid,” Spike stated, rather then asked a question when he felt Buffy tremble in his arms. He had just started to unbutton the very top of her blouse when he’d felt her tense up again.

“Yes,” Buffy whispered, just a little ashamed of her wavering virtuous demeanor. “I…..” she began to stroke Will’s handsome face with her right hand, even while she gently tugged at his shirt.

“Buffy, like I said, we don’t have to…” Spike rasped, trying to control his raging emotions. If his girl wasn’t ready for this big step? Then so be it. He could wait until forever to have her; be in her and make love to her, properly that is.


I am a virgin,” Buffy muttered in embarrassment. “I know you’re not, Will and I can accept that, truly, but…” Her voice trailed off weakly as her eyes pleaded with him.

‘Say something,’ she pleaded silently, gazing into William’s indigo blue eyes. ‘Recite some sweet poetry to me, Will. Anything that will make this easier and…’

“Buffy,” Spike sighed, halting for a moment before stumbling on with his intimate confessions.

“I’ve been with women, yes,” he stammered, suddenly pretty disgusted with himself for some reason. “But they were experienced women, sweetheart,” he cuddled Buffy closer to him, relieved when she seemed to relax in his arms once again.

“Okay, what I mean is,” he mumbled under his breath, “that they were professional women. Women I bought and paid for pleasure. They meant nothing to me, Buffy, nothing. I’m not particularly proud of that, especially not since I met you, but…”

“So you’re saying that you have never ‘been’ with a virgin?” Buffy asked, her green eyes wide in wonder.

“No,” Spike stated evenly, “I haven’t been with a virgin, luv. And, I have to say I’m glad about that, sweetheart. So very glad that you’ll be my first and my last virgin, Buffy. In fact,” he added shyly, “you’ll be the last woman I’m ever ‘with’ baby. I mean that, from the bottom of my heart.”

Buffy lay, staring into Will’s loving, honest blue eyes. She was completely dumbfounded for some reason. Of course, she was fully aware that William had been with other women, but to think that he was still rather clueless about being with a virgin, such as herself? It was completely overwhelming to Buffy.

“So,” she began carefully, “in a way? You are kind of a virgin too?” Buffy murmured softly, running her fingers through Will’s curly, soft hair.

“Yeah,” Spike chuckled as he nuzzled her forehead with his, “I guess you could say I am.”

“Good!” Buffy giggled in delight, placing a dozen kitten kisses all over her lover’s face. “I’m glad you’re new to this, too, in a way, Will,” she murmured coyly into his mouth. “Now, kiss me senseless and let’s find out what two 'kind of' virgins can do together, huh?” Buffy purred, bringing Will’s mouth down to press against her own.

How he got her clothes completely off, without even realizing it? Spike had no idea. However, there she was his golden goddess. His perfect, beautiful angel was lying beneath him, completely naked and warmly glowing like a sweet, scented candle.

“You are perfect,” he rasped, allowing Buffy to finish unbuttoning his shirt.

“I’m not perfect, Will,” Buffy panted, breathily. “I am no angel, Will. I am a flesh and blood woman, like I told you before. I want you and I know you want me,” she smiled saucily as she completed the task of unbuttoning her lover’s shirt.

Spike slipped off his shirt and gasped in stunned delight when Buffy ran her tiny, warm hands down his bare chest. Her right hand fell on his belt buckle and rested there. She gazed at him with a saucy little smile on her luscious mouth.

“I could use some help here, Will,” she whispered coyly. Her bottom lip jutted out in a naughty little pout and Spike realized that he could live forever, contented, just to see that sight daily.

“Glad to help,” Spike chuckled, wrapping Buffy’s tiny hand in his and helping her to undo the belt buckle. Once his pants were undone, he slowly slipped them off over his hips and tossed them to the side of the loft. With only his shorts on, Spike lay back on top of Buffy, careful not to crush her tiny frame with his weight.

“Buffy,” he murmured tenderly, kissing the end of her adorable nose, affectionately. “I can’t lie to you, Princess,” he whispered with a tinge of regret. “Our first time? It is going to hurt you, baby, a lot I think and…”

“I know,” Buffy mumbled against his warm neck. “My mother told me about it, all of it. She said it hurts something terrible, at first, but then? If your man is kind and patient; loving and gentle? After the fact, it will feel like heaven. My mother told me that my father was like that, gentle and patient I mean.” Buffy finished with a red hot blush that shot through her neck and face like a flame.

‘I cannot believe I just mentioned my parents. At a time like this?’ She was mortified with herself.

“Smart people, your folks,” Spike murmured softly, nuzzling her neck with his mouth. He smiled against the soft skin there, giving her sleek neck a gentle lick with his moist tongue.

William’s kind words had a relaxing effect on Buffy and she felt the fear and tension flee from her body and mind. This was right, she was sure of it and now, she had every intention of going through with it.

Spike kissed Buffy again, on her forehead, then her cheeks, then her pink puffy lips. All the while, he tenderly stroked her bare flesh with his hands. It certainly helped that his girl seemed to have lost all of her inhibitions, about touching him that is. Buffy ran her soft, petite hands and fingers up and down his bare flesh, eliciting all kinds of fiery sensations inside him.

As gently as he could, Spike kissed finished his deep kiss into Buffy’s mouth and let his lips travel down her neck, to her left breast. He gently took her rose colored little nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, tenderly.

“Oh, Will,” Buffy gasped in a breathy tone, “that’s the most wonderful feeling that I’ve ever had.” She wriggled underneath him, trying to push her breast even further into his eager mouth.

Spike smiled against her plump little breast and licked the tender flesh with his tongue. Buffy was moaning and babbling all kinds of endearments and this just encouraged him to suck even harder and longer on the sweet little bud between his teeth.

Buffy clasped William’s blond head to her breast and urged him on, eagerly. She had never felt such a wonderful, albeit naughty sensation in her entire life. Even when she had laid in her lonely bed, at home at the farm, secretly touching herself, down there. Buffy had never, ever known that it could feel like this, or be like this.

“I touched myself,” Buffy blurted out, suddenly, unable to keep from admitting her deepest secrets.

“You touched yourself?” Spike stopped his ministrations and looked up into Buffy’s lovely green eyes.

“After that day, at the store in Redemption. When you and I ‘talked’ in the store. That night,” she muttered bashfully, “I touched myself and thought of you, in my bed.” Buffy felt like disappearing into thin air, right at that moment.

“You thought of me?” Spike asked with wide blue eyes. “While you touched yourself, here,” he stroked Buffy’s bare, sweet cunny tenderly. “You thought of me?”

“Yes,” Buffy moaned, pushing lower body further into William’s sturdy fingers.

“Me too,” Spike rasped huskily. “From the first time I saw you Buffy. I touched myself, too and thought of you,” he finished by kissing Buffy’s breast and burying his head into her the soft, warm flesh of her tummy.

“Well,” Buffy sighed dreamily, stroking William’s head affectionately, “maybe we should ‘touch’ each other?”

“You are a very smart woman, Buffy Summers,” Spike rasped in a voice filled with desire. “I love you,” he whispered, turning his gaze onto her sweet, cunny. It was modestly covered by honey colored curls and Spike felt like cumming right then, just at the glorious sight of it.

He watched, in awe, as he gently ran his fingers over her wet, hot little cunny. His heart skipped a beat and he was delighted when her little honey hole quivered in pleasure at his touch.

“I,” Buffy moaned in pleasure, her face alight in a hot blush. “I need you, Will,” she gasped when he ran his long fingers over her most private place, between her thighs.

“I need you, sweet,” he purred, sliding his body up hers to meet her gaze with his. “I love you, want you and need you, Buffy,” he assured her warmly.

As he kissed her deeply, again, Spike positioned himself between her slim thighs. In his heart, he knew it was going to hurt his Buffy, far beyond anything she’d ever felt before. The thought that their first act of love making would hurt her, terrified him, greatly.

“I…” Spike began, his insecurity and fear overwhelming him momentarily.

“It’s all right, Will,” Buffy shushed him by placing a sweet kiss on his mouth. “I am ready, I promise,” she assured him as she wrapped her hands about his bottom and pulled his manhood into her.

Spike slid his manhood into his love, gently as he could, careful not to push too hard or fast. When he hit the barrier that separated them, he stopped abruptly and stared into her frightened emerald eyes.

“Buffy,” he began cautiously, “I meant what I said. If you want to wait and…”

“No!” Buffy cried in reply. “Make love to me, Will, please,” she pleaded in a raspy tone.

Even as he pushed in harder, to break the barrier of tissue, Spike crushed his lips to Buffy’s in a passionate kiss. He tried hard not to cringe when he felt Buffy tremble in pain and cry out against his mouth.

‘Oh, blood Christ,’ he thought, horrified. ‘I’ve torn her, good and proper and hurt her terribly. She’ll never forgive me now. My Buffy will never…’

“Will,” Buffy whispered as she pulled her mouth from his. “Can we just rest now, for a bit?” She looked into his blue eyes, trying to hide the tiny tears of pain in hers.

“Oh, God, yes,” Spike hissed with regret, immediately halting his thrusts inside of her.. “Oh, Jesus Buffy, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m so damned sorry that I hurt you, baby. Please forgive me and…”

“It’s okay,” Buffy whispered sincerely. “Can we just rest now, for a minute or two? Then, I’m sure it will be fine, Will. We can carry on then; I promise it will be fine.”

They lay together, with Spike on top of Buffy, being very careful not to crush her with his weight. He lay very still for a moment or two and just held her to him, protectively.

“Will,” Buffy finally purred in a little kitten voice. “I think it will be fine now,” she hummed.

“Are you sure?” He asked, gazing into her half closed eyes. “We can stop and…”

“Oh, Will,” Buffy purred again, “I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to.”

“Oh, Buffy,” Spike gasped again, in complete awe of this wonderful woman underneath him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Buffy giggled saucily, “so let’s get on with the love making now? Okay? I don’t know about you, William Giles, but I think this just might be paradise on earth.”

“Oh, it will be,” Spike agreed heartily as he began to move, gently inside of his soul mate. “This will truly be paradise on earth my love.”


A/N: Okay, I tried, really. I wanted it sweet and sexy; Spike and Buffy’s first time together that is. I’ll try to write much sexier Spuffy in some later chapters but I wanted this to be ‘nice’ for their first time together. You know, like all we females dreamed of for the first time!!!

Thanks for reading and please review. Reviews make spufette smile and be happy!

Chapter 17: ‘Heaven and Hell’


Summary: More Spuffy loving in this chapter. I want our couple to have ‘fun’ with each other after the loving, too.

Caleb Montgomery’s nasty character shows up in this chapter (don’t worry, he’s still miles away in Redemption). Once you have read the chapter, I think you will understand why I entitled it ‘Heaven and Hell’ this time.


A/N: Thank you for all of the lovely reviews so far. I cherish them all.


Spike lay on his side, his Buffy snuggled close into his damp naked body. In all of his twenty-one years, William ‘Spike’ Giles had never felt so contented or complete. It was all due to the little blond angel he held in his arms, that was for certain. Of course, his little angel was as starkers as he was, nestled into his arms, naked and sated like he was.

“Mmmm,” Buffy hummed into William’s bare chest, contented and sated. “I never want to move,” she giggled softly.

“Me either,” Spike mumbled in a low, husky voice. “Let’s just stay here, up in the loft, eh Princess? We’ll make a nice little nest up here and make love all the time and….”

“I wish,” Buffy sighed dreamily, snuggling deeper into her lover’s strong embrace. “Because,” she purred in contentment, “this is as close to Heaven on earth that we’ll get. At least, I think so anyway,” she giggled saucily.

Spike was again delightedly stunned by Buffy’s responsiveness to him. His little treasure had totally amazed him on so many levels today. First, she had led him up to this cozy little loft with the sole purpose of consummating their love together.

Then, she had been so warm, sweet, yet passionate when they made love the first time. If Spike had merely thought that Buffy was his soul mate before they made love together? Now, he was completely sure of it, and so was she. That made everything complete and perfect, just like they were together.

Buffy snuggled even deeper into William’s warm body, gently nudging his manhood with her thigh. She chuckled to herself when she felt her lover harden yet again, at her touch there.

Spike began to kiss Buffy again on her silky little mouth, even as he rubbed his cock against the soft skin of her thigh. “Mmmm,” he purred into her mouth, “you’re playin’ with fire there, sweet. Unless you ‘want’ to repeat what we did just…..”

Buffy stunned him, yet again, when she maneuvered Spike on his back, with her straddled on top of him. “Of course I want a repeat, Will,” she purred as she impaled herself on his hard, erect cock. “Don’t you want to,” she inquired with a little pout.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Spike moaned in pleasure, clasping his hands on her slim hips.

“Will! Your language!” Buffy giggled and gently slapped at his naked chest. In spite of her mock disdain at his crude words, she began to rock her hips, where they were joined to his; and to ride him at a sharp but frantic pace.

“Buffy!” Spike cried out, “that feels amazing, sweetheart, please don’t stop.” His hands held her hips, tightly, while she rode him fiercely.

“I’ll never stop this,” Buffy gasped, speeding up her hips as she rode her William and met each of his thrusts. “I never want to stop this, Will,” she cried out in pleasure. “It’s….”

“It’s what?” Spike rasped hoarsely, “what is it to you, Buffy?” He pleaded, encouraging her to talk even more, while they did this most intimate act together.

“I love it,” Buffy screamed out as she felt another orgasm rush through her body. “I love you!”

“Oh, I love you Buffy. So much and I’m so….” Spike’s words were cut off when he cried out his own release.

Buffy collapsed down on top of William, thankful that his strong arms were now wrapped around her body. He held her so tight, which was a good thing, since both of their bodies were slick with sweat. Frankly, Buffy was sure she would have slid right off of him and landed on the loft floor if he hadn’t of clasped so tight to her. Besides, in this position, it made it easier for them to kiss each other passionately.


‘Meanwhile back in Redemption…..’


“Jesus Christ, Montgomery! You nearly beat Harmony to death, you fucking moron!” Lorne, the proprietor of the Red Garter Saloon (and whorehouse) was screaming frantically at Caleb.

Caleb was being held by Lorne’s most trusted employees, Forrest and Parker. The two men held the hulking farmer back, keeping him from escaping the dingy little bedroom, one of many in the saloon.

“She’s one of my most popular whores, you fucking maniac!” Lorne threw that in for good measure, just before he dropped onto the bed where poor Harmony lay, naked, bloodied and beaten to a pulp.

“Oh, baby,” Lorne cooed, trying to wipe the blood from the whore’s pretty face. “I’m so sorry, baby,” Lorne groaned; a few tiny tears slipped from his dark eyes. “You fucking asshole,” he roared again at Caleb Montgomery. “You paid to rough Harmony up a bit, not fucking tear her apart! What kind of freak are you Montgomery!”

“My money’s good, ain’t it,” Caleb barked back at Lorne, a smug smirk on his mouth. “My money was good enough when I paid it up front! Who gives a fuck about a two bit whore anyway? She’s just a replacement for…..”

Lorne glared up at Caleb once again, before looking back down at his beaten whore. The saloon owner, and whoremaster, knew exactly what Harmony was to him and every other man in Redemption. She was a whore; a paid sex tool and warm body who resembled Buffy Summer more closely then any other.

Lorne knew, from experience and from word of mouth the entire truth of the matter. That most of Harmony’s customers were using the simple whore for sex and thinking of the Summers’ girl while doing it.

The closeness to Buffy’s build and coloring was what made Harmony as popular as she was. Lorne was no fool, he’d been with the pretty little whore himself, and pictured the saintly, lovely little Buffy Summers even as he thrust into Harmony.

Apparently, Caleb Montgomery was using Harmony in the same way, since Buffy was still gone. Lorne had a sneaky suspicion that the posse and Mr. Summers would never bring Buffy Summers home again. Montgomery may have had the same thought, since he’d only started coming to the Garter since Buffy was taken by the Crawford gang.

In fact, now that Lorne really thought about it, Caleb always asked for Harmony and paid extra; to do those ungodly acts with her. This time, something had gone terribly wrong and Montgomery had lost control, completely. He had nearly flayed young Harmony to the point that she was unrecognizable and Lorne was physically ill just looking at her. How Forrest and Parker could stand there, just staring at the naked, bloody whore without throwing up was a mystery to him.

Lorne might be a saloon owner; a whoremaster and a sinner of the worst variety, but….. He was also a man with a soul and conscience; considered a gentleman’s son back home in Kentucky. He was also a bit of a scholar in academia and life, of course. So why had he not ‘seen’ this deviant, barbaric behavior in Montgomery before this and done something to protect his girls?

‘Because you love their money more, Lorne admitted to himself, full of shame, self-disgust and sorrow.

“Get him the fuck out of here!” Lorne finally screamed at Forrest. “And, Montgomery? Don’t ever show your face in the Garter again or I’ll have Parker there cut you to pieces. Old Parker is very good with a knife and I’m sure he’d just love to practice on you. Right Park?”

“Yes, sir,” Parker muttered, smiling smugly at the pompous Caleb Montgomery. Anyone could tell that Parker Abrams was enraged, especially when he looked at poor, simple little Harmony. The girl looked like raw meat and it was taking every bit of self-control for Abrams not to be sick or break Caleb’s stupid neck.

Forrest dragged Caleb out of the room, loudly, and Lorne turned to Parker again. “Go get Maggie,” he directed Abrams. “Tell her to bring a sterilized needle and thread, some water and whiskey. Keep the other girls out of here, but send Sandy over to the Doc. She’s to tell him we’ve got a real hell’s horror here and need him, now! And Parker,” Lorne mumbled harshly, “do not tell anyone what happened here.”

After his employee left, Lorne sat back down next to Harmony and stroked her pretty blond hair, lovingly. “I’m so sorry, honey,” he began to weep softly, trying to comfort the passed out girl.

‘Jesus,’ Lorne halted his mutterings, suddenly and wiped his tears away. ‘If Caleb was using Harmony as a replacement for Buffy, until she gets back? What the fuck does that mean? He’s going to do this to Buffy Summers, once she returns and…..”

Lorne stood up and began to pace back and forth in the tiny, dark room. He tried his best not to look at Harmony again, until Maggie and the Doc arrived to help.

“Oh, God,” Lorne groaned loudly and diverted his stare to outside the bedroom window. “I hope to God that the posse and Summers don’t find the Crawford gang and Buffy,” he muttered miserably. “If Caleb Montgomery gets his hands on Buffy Summers again? He’ll make the poor girl’s life a living hell.”


“I suppose we should get back to the house,” Buffy drawled lazily as she stretched her naked body. “The others, they’ll miss us and…”

“I think they’ve most likely already ‘missed’ us, kitten,” Spike chuckled, kissing the tip of pretty nose. He winked at her and gave her a patent smirk, just to prove his point.

“I suppose,” Buffy murmured with a slight blush on her cheeks. “I suppose they all know exactly what we’ve been doing, huh? Even if they don’t know where exactly,” she added meekly.

“It’s all right, Princess,” Spike laughed heartily, clasping her tiny, naked body even tighter to his. “I’m thinkin’ they all thought it was just a matter of time until I broke down your defenses and seduced you. I am a rude, evil big bad outlaw after all and…” Spike couldn’t help himself; he burst out into even louder laughter when he saw the little scowl on his Buffy’s lovely mouth.

Buffy gasped and slapped, playfully at his chest again, but her coy smile gave her away. She was well aware that William was playing with her and found it quite wonderful really. For all of her concern and worry about what happened ‘after’ the first time? Buffy realized that this part of the intimacy was fun and also bound William and her together, in its own special way.

She leaned in and gave her lover a chaste kiss on his mouth before pulling away and searching the loft for her clothes. William’s wistful look was not lost on her.

“Stay,” he murmured in such a longing tone that Buffy’s heart skipped at least two beats. “Let’s stay here, just a bit longer, sweet,” he finished, pulling her back down into his body.

“Okay,” she sighed in pleasant defeat, “we can stay, here, for just a little longer.”


“You don’t think they’ve near killed each other, do you” Angel was asking his Uncle Rupert with a somewhat concerned expression on his handsome face.

“Who’s killing whom?” Giles asked his nephew innocently, even if he knew exactly what the younger man was asking about.

“Spike and Buffy,” Angel snorted impatiently. “You don’t think they’re in the barn, having a row, do you? With their tempers? I’m worried one of them might murder the other one!”

If Angel hadn’t sounded so bloody sincere, Rupert Giles would have burst out into raucous laughter at his concerned inquiries.

‘Is he kidding?’ Rupert wondered, briefly. ‘Angel, my wild, untamed nephew by marriage, really has no idea what’s going on in that barn?’ Giles rolled his eyes, but asked Angel, as seriously as he could manage. “Maybe you had better go check on them, eh, boy? See if either of them has killed the other one yet?”

“Don’t you dare go anywhere near that damned barn, boy,” Cordelia growled, joining her late sister’s husband and her other sister’s son. “If you go in there now? You’ll be the one we’ll be burying tomorrow,” she nearly giggled at own words. “I’ll wager it’s not ‘fighting’ that Spike and Buffy are doing, so I wouldn’t bother them. They’ll come out of the barn, once they’re good and ready to that is.”


“Buffy,” Spike whispered, still cuddling his girl close into his body. “I was thinking,” he continued cautiously. “When we get to Mexico, or maybe even before? I was wondering if maybe you and me, should, well, you know? Get married?”


A/N: Next chapter, Buffy and the others will have to head out for their destination. That posse is moving in on them and the gang is still miles from the Mexican border.

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 18: ‘Yes!’


Summary: Spike asks Buffy to marry him again. Okay, so the title of this chapter gives it away!

Joyce Summers gets a visitor to the farm; someone who has some warning for her and her family.


“So,” Spike murmured softly, tenderly placing a kiss on Buffy’s plump lips. He never broke his gaze from her green eyes as he repeated the question from just seconds before.

“Will you marry me, Buffy,” he asked, trying to cover his nervous insecurity. “As soon as we can find a preacher, or I guess, really I should say a priest?”

“Of course!” Buffy exclaimed gleefully, tiny tears of joy spilling from her eyes. “I mean, yes! I’ll marry you Will!”

She rolled them both over, so he’d be on his back, and began to assault her man’s face and lips with her fiery, passionate kisses.

“Damn, Buffy,” Spike chuckled lustily, “one thing is for sure. Our life together is never going to be dull, eh?”





‘Meanwhile, back at the Summers’ farm……’


Joyce Summers sat on her front porch, staring out at the vast, lonely plain in front of her. Dawn, her youngest daughter, and her only son, Hank Jr., sat next to her.

“Mama,” Dawn mumbled, breaking the silence between the trio, “there’s a rider coming.” The young girl pointed off into the distance, alerting her mother to the lone rider on a dark horse.

Mrs. Summers stood and straightened herself up to her full height of 5’5” (pretty tall really for that era). She cupped her hand over her eyes to try and figure out exactly who was riding towards her home.


“It’s Mr. Johnathan Levison!” Little Hank Jr. cried in delight. “I can see it’s him. I can tell, even from here Mama,” the boy squealed happily.

“Indeed,” Joyce mumbled, a little confused at this point. “It is Mr. Levison.”

As the general store owner neared, Joyce began to feel rather anxious at heart. Why would Johnathan Levison come here, to the farm? Now?


“Good day to you, Mrs. Summers,” Johnathan tipped his hat in deep respect for this beloved woman. Joyce noted, not for the first time, that she nearly towered over this small, but well-liked young man.

“Good day to you, Mr. Levison,” Joyce stammered, still taken aback by the young shop owner’s sudden appearance. It was true, Johnathan Levison and his lovely wife, Amy, were pillars of the community. Just as Hank and Joyce Summers were, but they had never been really close; not really.

“I’ve a need to speak with you, Mrs. Summers and…..” Johnathan began with a blush. The diminutive man glanced over at the two Summers’ children, another slight blush on his cheeks.

“Dear God, Johnathan,” Joyce sighed in exasperation. “We’ve known each other for years, boy. Can you not call me Joyce? I belong to your dear wife, Amy’s, sewing circle, for the love of Pete!”

“So sorry maam,” Johnathan mumbled with yet another blush. “I’m just, well…..” his sentence trailed off as he glared at the two youngsters on the porch steps.

“Dawn,” Joyce began carefully, “take young Hank into the house. I need to speak with Mr. Levison privately, I think,” she finished with a scowl.

“Thank you maam,” Johnathan sighed in relief. “It’s true,” he continued benevolently. “I think this discussion; regarding Mr. Caleb Montgomery is best kept between you, Joyce, and myself.”

“If this ‘discussion’ is about that fool, Caleb Montgomery,” Dawn spat, “then it’s about my sister. So,” she continued smugly, “it involves me too!”

“Dawn,” Joyce barked impatiently, “take your little brother into the house, girl. Do not come back out here until I say. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama,” Dawn murmured, stung that she was being exiled into the house. Dawn hurried into the house, her little brother in tow behind her.

“What brings you here, Johnathan?” Joyce Summers asked the little man, cautiously. It was true, she belonged to Amy Levison’s sewing circle, but that was about the end of it. However, to have Johnathan come out here, now? It was a little more then bizarre.

“I need to talk to you, Mrs. Summers, I mean Joyce,” he added respectfully. “A situation has arisen and I felt it my duty to ‘warn’ you about it,” he mumbled, unable to look the older woman in the face.

“Go ahead,” Joyce followed the short man out into the front yard of her home.

“I believe we should go as far from earshot as possible, Joyce,” Johnathan whispered, secretively. “I wouldn’t want the children to hear what I have to say,” he finished with a frown.

“Of course,” Joyce mumbled nervously. Whatever was bothering Johnathan was something real and unnerving; that was for sure.

When they had reached the tiny garden that Dawn and Buffy had thrown together, just months before, Johnathan turned and faced Joyce, reluctantly.

“Tell me,” Joyce ordered Mr. Levison. “There’s something evil here, Johnny,” she muttered knowingly. “So tell me and…..”

“It’s about Caleb,” Johnathan began carefully. “Let me start at the beginning, please Joyce,” he added quietly.

Joyce nodded, encouraging Johnathan to continue.


“Mr. Lorne Deverson, he came to my business this very morning, Joyce,” Johnathan began with a hot blush on his pixie face.

“The whoremaster!” Joyce gasped in shock.

“Well, yes,” Johnathan muttered, stunned that a fine woman like Mrs. Hank Summers would even know who Lorne was.

“I, well, I’m sorry,” Joyce began shyly. “I should not have said that word and…..”

“No, its fine, Joyce,” Johnathan stammered, still a little put off by this refined woman’s use of ‘that’ moniker.

“Anyway,” Joyce began for her companion. “What does Lorne Deverson have to do with you, or me and my family for that matter?”

“I don’t quite know how to put this, maam,” Johnathan began again, even more unsure of how to relay this disdainful message.

“As I said, Lorne Deverson came to my place of business this morning. At the first thing, actually. He shooed my Amy off and demanded to speak with me, alone. I was shocked, of course, but after noting the sincerity in the man’s eyes I had to hear him out.”

Johnathan glanced down at the pebbled path that he and Mrs. Summers walked upon. He was more then sure that Hank Summers, Sr. had set that path there, lovingly, for his wife and children.

“I think I should start by saying, Joyce,” Levison began cautiously, “that your family, Buffy included, of course, is very well thought of here. We all care about you, Mr. Summers, your children and all,” he continued. “Heck, even a despot like Lorne Deverson cares.”

“Lorne Deverson,” Joyce groaned, “the Red Garter whoremaster? He cares about my family and…..”

“Please, Mrs., let me finish,” Johnathan grimaced. “Mr. Lorne Deverson is a whoremaster that much is true. However, he is also the son of a Kentucky land owner and considered a genteel sort by his peers ‘there’ and all. I know,” the shaggy haired man continued, “that it is hard to believe that a man of Mr. Deverson’s reputation, here in Redemption, might be a gentleman in other parts. But, it’s true. Again, that’s not the point, is it?”

“I suppose not,” Joyce stuttered, a little stunned by this revelation. She, Joyce, and her female friends of the surrounding area had discussed Mr. Lorne Deverson and his endeavors, numerous times, at their functions.

“Mr. Lorne, he respects you and your family’s reputation, Joyce,” Johnathan went on. “He felt it best that a Summers’ family friend would be the best emissary to come out and talk with you, about Caleb Montgomery,” he finished with a sour frown.

“What is it?” Joyce asked, a little frightened by what this small man might tell her.

“Caleb,” Johnathan paused for a brief moment, “he did something real bad, to an employee of Lorne’s. I have to say, Joyce that it was not over a bad card deal and all. It was over a…..”

“A whore?” Joyce asked her blue eyes half shut in horror. “Did Caleb hurt a whore in Mr. Lorne’s employ?”

“Yes,” Johnathan Levison rasped in reply. “He did something awful to a young blond whore by the name of…..”

“Harmony Kendall,” Joyce supplied the rest of the sentence.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked, Johnathan Levison,” Joyce cooed. “The women of Redemption are farm women, mothers, grandmothers, daughters and sisters. Do you think we sit around at sewing circle meetings and just discuss the weather and babies? Grow up,” she spat somewhat impatiently.

“Do I want to know exactly what Caleb Montgomery did to that Harmony woman?” Joyce drawled out the question, her eyes still half closed in disgust.

“No maam,” Johnathan sighed unhappily. “I wouldn’t tell my own beloved Amy what that monster Montgomery did to the girl. How could I……”

“So be it,” Joyce whispered as she crossed herself. Joyce Morris-Summers had been raised in the Catholic Church and she still practiced some of its rituals

“Lorne Deverson has sent the girl, Harmony Kendall, away, to recuperate. Out to Kansas City, I believe,” Johnathan offered in a harsh voice.

“Good,” Joyce sighed sadly. “I hope the poor girl stays away, permanently. It would probably be best for her. As for Caleb,” she grimaced yet again. “He’ll get his due, someday,” she hissed.

“Here’s hoping to that maam. However, Lorne was worried, about Buffy and all. He was concerned that when your daughter came home, that Caleb might, well, make things difficult for her and such.” Johnathan blushed bright red again.

“I’ve got news for you and Caleb,” Joyce stated evenly. “Buffy made it clear, to me, before she was taken. There is no way in God’s green earth that my daughter, Buffy, will ever marry Caleb Montgomery. She does not love him and she does not trust him any longer. When and if she returns to Redemption? I will make sure that my child knows exactly what kind of man Caleb Montgomery truly is.”



“Well, you two certainly were in that barn a while,” Cordelia chuckled wickedly at her nephew, Spike and his lady love, Buffy.

The blond couple had entered the Quinn house, arm in arm, and entirely way too ‘happy’ for words. Cordelia Quinn grinned at her brother-in-law, Rupert Giles, mischievously.

“And you thought they were killing each other, eh Angel?” Rupert asked his tall, dark-haired nephew, with a smirk.

“Guess not,” Angel grunted at his uncle. “I guess they were……”

“That’s enough cousins,” Spike spat at Angel. “Besides, we’ve got an announcement to make,” the blond outlaw grinned happily.

“An announcement?” Cordelia asked with wide brown eyes.

“Yes,” Buffy giggled girlishly. “Will and me, we’re going to, well, you tell them,” she whispered to her lover.

Spike pulled Buffy into his embrace and beamed at his immediate family. “Buffy and me,” he began proudly. “We’re going to get married. As soon as we can find a holy man to do the ceremony.”


A/N: That was a really short, short chapter for me. I’m trying to stay focused with my fics and continue with my new one.

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 19: ‘Something Saguaro!’


Summary: Spike and Buffy get a pleasant surprise the morning after their ‘time’ in the loft!

Amy Levison informs Willow Osbourne of her news about Caleb Montgomery.

A wedding takes place at the Quinn ranch!

(The title is a play on ‘Something Blue’ from season 4. Okay, it’s corny, I know)


A/N: This chapter is pretty sugary, I’ll just admit it. But, hey, it’s a Spuffy wedding and we deserve it dammit!

Oh, Saguaro flowers are from the cactus of that name, pretty much native to Arizona.


“This is Father Sanchez,” Cordelia Quinn grinned happily as she pointed to the obvious priest in her living room. It was obvious that the Spanish man was a priest; his attire and holy white collar gave him away.

“I sent Doyle and Tito, our head ranch hand, out this morning to Flagstaff to fetch him. No time like the present for a wedding!” Mrs. Quinn chuckled merrily.

Buffy gaped, open-mouthed at the fairly young priest that stood, somewhat humbly, she noticed, in the Quinn house. She was more then overwhelmed by this turn of events. It was just yesterday that Buffy had lost her virginity; accepted William’s marriage proposal and tossed and turned all night in a borrowed bed of a young child’s bedroom.

Last night had been hell for Buffy, and she had no doubt that Will had suffered the same fate. After making love for hours, in the loft of the Quinn barn, it had been difficult for Buffy to sleep a wink in young Kate Quinn’s bedroom. However traditional proprieties had to be followed and Buffy was nothing if she wasn’t traditional.

At one point, Buffy had even entertained the notion of slipping out of Katie Quinn’s bedroom. She had devised a plot to quietly sneak down the hallway and call Will out of the room he must of shared with some other members of the gang.

Her sense of propriety and decency had won out and Buffy decided to stay put in the borrowed bed. Alone and without her future mate, William Giles. The truth was? Buffy Summers was in full on heat for her lover, William Giles; tradition and pride be damned!

It had been difficult, to say the least, to sleep without William by her side last night. And, if looks were honest and truthful? Buffy could see the next morning at breakfast that William had suffered the same sleepless night that she had.

Spike had practically ran to the breakfast table, after dressing and washing up in the cold water of the outside pump. He had snorted gruffly at the other men that shared his borrowed room.

“Bad night, Spike?” Xander chuckled heartily as he stretched out on the bedroll in the middle of the Quinn guest room.

“I swear I heard old Spike groan out sweet Buffy’s name during the night. At least a hundred times,” Jesse Harris laughed loudly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Spike grumped, pulling on his pants and heading out the back door to the water pump outside.

“Oh, he’s got it bad,” Riley laughed good-naturedly. “I’m bettin’ that Spike and Buffy are married and popping out little Giles in no time and…..”

“Shut the fuck up,” Spike had growled again through gritted teeth before he fled outside to the water pump.


“So, you’re a priest?” Spike asked warily, eyeing Father Sanchez up and down.

“I am, Senor Giles,” the priest replied warmly. “Actually,” Father Sanchez grinned amicably, “I’m the only priest for a hundred miles. Senor Doyle and young Tito there rode out this morning to my parish in Flagstaff. They brought me here to speak the wedding words over you and the beautiful senorita there.”

Father Sanchez smiled, benevolently, at Buffy, who blushed in response.

“Since when did you convert to Catholicism, Cordelia?” Rupert Giles asked his late wife’s younger sister, warily.

“Since I was ravished by Doyle here and swept away out here to this God forsaken country, Rupert,” Cordelia crowed gleefully. She quickly dismissed the shocked look in Father Sanchez’ chocolate brown eyes.

“What?” Cordy asked innocently of the men about her. “Father Sanchez’ mentor, Father Chavez, has helped deliver and blessed every one of my children. “Father Sanchez christened out last child and…..”

“I see,” Rupert sighed. “So be it. William? Buffy? Is it acceptable to you both? To be married in the laws of the Roman Catholic Church?”

“Fine by me,” Spike grunted, taking Buffy’s tiny, trembling hand in his. ‘Fuck, I hope she doesn’t bolt from this,’ he thought nervously.

“Okay,” Buffy stammered, “I mean, it’s okay with me, but I have to be honest, Father,” she mumbled with a hot blush. I am not Catholic, Father,” Buffy sounded almost apologetic.

“All of God’s children are welcome to unite when is it in the spirit of love, daughter,” Father Sanchez smiled warmly at the little blond wisp of a girl. “If you love Senor Giles and he loves you? Then God smiles kindly on your union,” the holy man finished with a wide grin on his handsome face.

“But, I don’t have a proper dress,” Buffy whimpered softly. “There’s no pretty dress for me to be married, properly in, Will.” She gazed at her future husband with pleading green eyes.

“That’s not a problem,” Cordelia Quinn interjected before her nephew could say a word. “My own wedding dress is stored, in my closet. If it’s all right by Buffy? She can wear it and we’ll find some suitable flowers to weave in her hair.” Cordy glanced at her only daughter, Katie affectionately.

“I can pick some Saguaro flowers Mama,” little Katie chimed in, excitedly. “They’re in full bloom, Aunt Buffy! I’ll go out, with Doyle Jr. and pick a bushel full!”

“They are quite lovely, Buffy dear,” Cordelia offered to the nervous bride to be. “Not roses or orchids, of course, but lovely still,” she added kindly.

“If you’d rather ride into Flagstaff, Princess,” Spike stammered nervously, “we can buy you a fine dress there. There’s plenty of time and money and…..”

“No!” Buffy cried fearfully. “Isn’t it too dangerous for you, for all of us, to go into a larger city?” She glanced at Rupert with an expression of terror.

“It would be, dear,” Rupert sighed heavily. “However, if William insists and you want a dress of your own then…..”



“I’m sure everything here will be fine,” Buffy murmured, squeezing Will’s hand with hers. “I don’t want to do anything that jeopardizes Will or any of you,” she murmured.

“Well,” Buffy continued heartily after taking a deep breath. “It’s not the huge, church wedding I’d imagined from childhood, but, it’ll do,” Buffy stated with a soft smile. “Will? How about you? Do you want to give it a go and all?”

“I do,” Spike replied firmly. “With all of my heart, Princess, I want you for my wife.”


‘Meanwhile back in Redemption’

(Now, you knew I had to throw them in there, right???)


“I only know what Johnny told me, Amy Levison whispered into her friend, Willow Osbourne’s ear. “My husband admitted to me that that wicked man, Lorne Deverson, stopped by our store, to give a warning about Caleb Montgomery.”

Willow’s gray eyes widened as she leaned in closer to listen to Amy’s words. The two women were having tea, in Mrs. Osbourne’s parlor and Amy had felt it best that she inform the red-head of just exactly what kind of man Caleb Montgomery truly was.

“Of course,” Amy mumbled; her face bright red, “Johnny didn’t tell me everything that happened at ‘that awful evil place’ and all. However,” she hesitated then leaned in closer to Willow. “I do know that the one they call Harmony? Deverson had to send her away, after Caleb ‘visited’ her. It’s scandalous to say the least and Johnny made me swear not to tell anyone but you. The girl was beaten to a pulp by Montgomery, according to Mr. Deverson.”

“Oh God,” Willow gasped as she turned even paler then usual. “I think I’m going to be sick, Amy,” she whimpered, clutching her swollen, pregnant stomach.

“You being Buffy’s best friend and all,” Amy continued undaunted, “I thought I should tell you everything I knew. That and the fact that Johnny rode to the Summers’ farm, immediately after Mr. Lorne Deverson left our store.”

“Did Johnathan tell Buffy’s mother about this?” Willow asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes, Lorne Deverson insisted that a family friend inform Joyce Summers about what a monstrous man her daughter’s intended is. I guess Buffy must have figured it out for herself, beforehand,” Amy snorted. “Johnny claims that Joyce Summers told him that Buffy had never intended to go through with the wedding!”

“She did not,” Willow confirmed with a sigh and a nod of her red head. “Buffy told me, here in this room, the day she was taken by the Crawford gang. She made it clear that she was not going to marry Caleb, no matter what happened. Poor Buffy, she must have realized what a monster Caleb Montgomery really is!”

“Indeed,” Amy tsked as she took another sip of tepid tea from Willow Osbourne’s fine china cup.


Father Sanchez smiled at the lovely young couple in front of him. The bride was a vision in a white satin dress, although it was not quite a perfect fit, Senorita Summers was still beautiful in it.

Katie Quinn and young Doyle had found dozens upon dozens of the sturdy white blooms of the Saguaro. The children and placed the flowers on every possible open counter top they could find. Miss Summers even wore a wreath fashioned of them in her golden hair.

Senor Giles looked nervous, but fairly composed as the priest began his sacred wedding words over the couple.

“Please, join hands,” Father Sanchez requested quietly, then noticed that the couple had already done so. The priest smiled warmly at the young gringo and gringa before him. It was not often that Father Sanchez was asked to perform wedding words for such a unique couple and he felt honored to do so now.

“I have decided to forego the traditional Latin ceremony,” the priest began solemnly in his broken English. “Instead, I will speak the English, from my heart to unite this couple in holy matrimony.”

“For everyone that is gathered here today,” he began somberly as he looked about at the unusual ‘guests’ of the bride and groom, “but most especially for the bride and groom. This is a celebration of the spiritual and physical union of this man and woman. William and Elizabeth come before God Almighty to affirm their love for one another and in front of these witnesses.”

Spike took that moment to smile down, a little nervously yes, at Buffy, who beamed up at him. Buffy appeared to be just as nervous, if not more, then he was.

“It is told in religious lore,” Father Sanchez continued in his melodic voice, “that it was the Angel Michael who helped watch over the first man, Adam, in the Garden of Eden. One day, Michael asked the Lord: “Lord, why have you created a mate for all of the animals in Paradise? But for man, your most beloved creation, you have not?”

“The Lord God looked down at Adam and sensed, perhaps, for the first time, that yes, his most beloved creation in the entire world was sad and alone. Adam had no mate of his own and God saw that his child was truly alone in Paradise.”

“I shall make my most beloved creation a mate,” God promised the angel Michael. “A woman to be with my man creation; someone to be at his side in the world and comfort him during the long lonely nights. Let it be known that the woman that I create as a mate for Adam is his partner; his equal in this world. Just as all of the animals have mates that are their equals and partners.”

“So the Lord God created Eve, Adam’s mate; his partner and equal. God gave Adam his mate; to love, respect and cherish above all other things in the world,” the priest smiled warmly at Buffy, then at William. “In turn, God gave Adam to Eve; to be loved by her.”

“I have always found it interesting,” Sanchez smiled wryly, “that our Lord seemed to know, instinctively, that Adam would always ‘choose’ his love and loyalty for Eve, above anything else. Perhaps that is why God forgave Adam, as well as Eve. Our Lord could not find it in his heart to separate Adam and Eve from each other, no matter how hurtful their betrayal was to Him. God loved mankind above all of his creations; therefore, he instilled in his human children the ability to ‘love’ unconditionally, just as He does.”

“William Giles,” he continued, “do you take this woman as your wife, your mate; to love, cherish and respect above all others in this world and for all eternity?”

“I do,” Spike stated clearly, squeezing Buffy’s tiny hand in his.

“Elizabeth Summers, do take William Giles as your husband and mate; to love, cherish and respect above all others in this world and for all eternity?”

“I do,” Buffy whispered, trying not to let the tiny happy tears slip from her eyes.

“Are there rings?” Father Sanchez asked carefully, not sure if he should bring something like this up. He was a savvy man, the priest was, and he had a very good notion that this group was not the usual wedding guests. Even as the bride and groom were not usual either.

“I have the rings,” Rupert Giles replied for the surprised couple. “They are my wife’s ring and mine,” he added in an unusual emotional tone.

“Thanks Dad,” Spike whispered, taking his mother’s wedding band from his father. He knew for a fact that Rupert had worn that ring, on his pinky finger, since the day his Jennifer Giles had died.

Rupert handed Buffy his own wedding band and smiled warmly at the girl. She would make a fine addition to the Giles’ clan that was for certain.

“Thank you,” Buffy whispered softly, barely able to get the words out.

“Place the rings on the proper finger,” the priest ordered gently. “William and Elizabeth have agreed to love, cherish and respect each other for all time. The rings are the physical seal to the spiritual agreement. In the eyes of God and these witnesses, William and Elizabeth are truly one together as husband and wife. You may kiss…..”

Father Sanchez saw that he did not need to finish his sentence. William and Elizabeth Giles were already ‘kissing’ quite enthusiastically, to seal their wedding vows.


A/N: Okay, another sappy chapter by the Syrup Queen of LA here.
This was a kind of ‘happy’ chapter before things get a little dark again. Well, not a little dark, but major big dark for our Spuffy couple. The posse is catching up to the gang and things are going to get rough for everyone.

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 20: ‘Wedding Night’


Summary: Spike and Buffy celebrate their wedding night in a rather unusual place. Later, they discuss their future plans.

A/N: I’ve let this one go way to long since the last update. I hope readers are still interested.




“I think it’s time for the wedding night, son,” Rupert Giles whispered to Spike, giving him a little nudge, along with a smirk. “It’s nearly 9:00 and…..”

The grandfather clock in the Quinn living chimed right then, as if to remind the newlyweds that their wedding night awaited.

“Uhm, time to uhm, go to bed?” Spike murmured into Buffy’s ear, almost shyly. This elicited a little giggle from the bride, and a bright red blush.

“Will,” Buffy whispered bashfully, “just where are we going to spend our wedding night?” She scrunched up her nose and formed her lush lower lip into a little pout.

“Look at that lip,” Spike murmured huskily. “Gonna’ get it,” he finished by nipping at Buffy’s pink mouth, delighted when she giggled again.

‘God, I love her so much,’ Spike repeated the words in his mind. He tightened his arm around her slim shoulders and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

After the ceremony, the family and guests had commenced in some much needed merrymaking. Uncle Doyle had surprised everyone with bottles of very good whisky and scotch (Rupert’s favorite) and toasted the newlyweds numerous times.

Even Buffy had had her share of some very good wine that Cordelia had hoarded for just the two of them! By the time 9:00 PM rolled around, Buffy was very, very relaxed to say the least.

“Will,” Buffy whispered huskily as she stood on her tippy toes to speak in his ear. “I’m not sure I want to spend my wedding night in a house full of children and robbers. Do you?” She asked with another lower lip pout that could put a five-year-old to shame.

“No my princess,” Spike chuckled, taking his wife into his arms. “Rumor has it that Uncle Doyle and Auntie Cordelia arranged a ‘honeymoon committee’ to redecorate our loft in the barn. I’m sure it’ll be more then comfy for us, yeah?” He gazed down into Buffy’s wide, soft green eyes, lovingly and bent to kiss her pouty little pink mouth.

“Oh!” Buffy squealed merrily. “Our own little honeymoon retreat? I’m so pleased Will and…..” she trailed off when she noticed Angel standing to presumably give another toast to the newlyweds.

“Hey,” Angel barked with a very puffed up chest and a slight stagger to his gait, “I’ve got another toast. “To my cousin, Spike Giles,” he slurred just slightly, “and his lovely bride. May their marriage be blessed; may they have a dozen healthy, beautiful babies and may we all make it to Nogales before that fucking posse catches up to us!”

“Here, here,” everyone in the room roared in response, even Buffy who seemed to forget to blush at Angel’s obscenity.

“I agree with Rupert,” Cordelia Quinn laughed, “it’s time for the bride and groom to ‘retire’ to their wedding night!”

Without further ado, Spike swept Buffy up into his arms and strode out into the desert night of Arizona. He carried his giggling bride into the barn and up the little ladder to the loft.

“I didn’t get a chance to say ‘thank you’ Will,” Buffy whimpered when he set her on her feet inside the loft.

“We’ll say ‘thank you’ tomorrow sweetheart,” Spike growled lustily. He hurried about to light the two or three lanterns that had been placed in the newly refurbished loft.

When the lanterns were lit to maximum? Both Spike and Buffy gasped in stunned delight at the sight before them. Sometime, during the afternoon or evening, the Quinn clan had snuck up to the loft and completely renovated it!

There was now a very comfy looking mattress, presumably stuffed with feathers. It had been placed where the old one had been. Silk sheets of the palest ivory adorned the makeshift bed and there was a lovely, satin quilt of rose color turned down ‘just’ so over them. Saguaro petals, of the purest white, were scattered over the quilt and on the spotless floor about the bed.

An opened bottle of wine sat in a vase with two silver goblets next to it. Two huge, overstuffed pillows lay at the head of the bed, also covered in ivory hued silk.

“Oh Will!” Buffy exclaimed tearfully, “it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Well, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Princess,” Spike replied huskily. He swept Buffy off of her tiny feet, again, and carried her to the bed.

Buffy giggled nervously, but began to disrobe slowly. Her little hands shook, slightly as she tried to pull off her borrowed wedding dress.

“Oh no,” Spike clasped her petite hands to stop her. “That’s my right,” he rasped as he continued the pleasant task himself.

“Oh, okay,” Buffy murmured softly with patent blush. “I…..” but she was cut off by William when he kissed her passionately.

“I’m not so sure I can be patient, sweet,” Spike mumbled huskily as he surveyed his very soft, pink and naked bride. He quickly stripped himself and lay down next to Buffy on the silky bed. “I want to do this right, my precious, but…..” he scowled slightly and furrowed his scarred brows. All the while, he stroked Buffy’s trembling arms and chest, tenderly. His own body was tense with desire and he was more then willing to pummel his bride into the mattress; but again, it was their wedding night and…..

“I think,” Buffy purred sensuously, “that patience can be highly overrated, Will.” She giggled mischievously and threw her arms about her man’s lean neck. “Besides,” she continued coyly, even though her hands were anything but, “we can take it slow the next time!”


After they had again sealed their marriage vows, Spike and Buffy lay enmeshed together. Their arms and legs were so entangled that it was difficult to tell where Spike’s body began and Buffy’s ended.

“Well,” Spike purred in total sated contentment, “you were sure bloody right about ‘that’ sweetheart. With his mouth buried into Buffy’s fragrant neck, it was somewhat difficult to understand him.

“About what,” Buffy sighed happily.

“About patience and the ‘first’ time, sweetling,” Spike chuckled wickedly. “The ‘first’ time was blood marvelous, my dove. All tender kissing, nibbling and touching. But the second and third times were fucking amazing!” Spike ran his strong, muscular left hand down Buffy’s tummy to her sweet little cunny mound and began to stroke it gently.

Buffy gasped in mock horror at her husband’s wanton words and behavior. “William Giles!” she cried with a bright pink blush, “I can’t believe that you’d…..” Her whole virginal act was soon ruined when Buffy began to giggle wildly at Will’s ministrations.

Spike kissed her so hard on her mouth that he knew it would swell them. Buffy didn’t seem to mind, so he did it again and then nipped at her bottom lip.

“Buffy,” he whispered softly, even as he slid his left hand up and cupped her dear face in it. “Princess,” he murmured tenderly, placing a kitten kiss on the tip of her nose.

“What’s wrong Will?” Buffy asked anxiously with furrowed fair brows.

“Nothin’ sweetheart,” Spike sighed heavily, falling onto his back and pulling Buffy on top of him. “I just want you to know something, okay?”

“Okay,” Buffy stammered nervously, searching Will’s honest blue eyes with hers.

“I want you to know that as soon as we can? We’ll have a right proper honeymoon baby. Maybe by the ocean? What do you say?” Spike looked into Buffy’s emerald eyes, sheepishly, ashamed that his beloved bride had to have a wedding night in a country barn loft. In fucking Arizona no less!

“It’s okay, Will,” Buffy replied honestly, “this is the best honeymoon a girl could ask for baby. I really mean that,” she finished by kissing his slightly turned down lips.

“I love you,” Spike murmured trying to hide his damp eyes.

“I love you,” Buffy responded in kind, her own eyes filled with happy tears.

“Buffy,” Spike began again, “after we get to Mexico; I mean a while after? What do you say we head out to California? There’s the Pacific Ocean and all; I know you’d like to see it. Maybe we could get a small piece of land out there, to start? Have those dozen kids Angel was talking about and raise them someplace fresh and new? Where no one knows us and we can start over?”

“Oh, Will,” Buffy gushed excitedly, “I’d love to go to California. I do have an aunt out there, my mother’s sister, Aunt Jocelyn. She’s a widow, William and I bet she could find us a nice place; something perfect for us!”


A/N: Okay, a ton of writer’s block here so this fiction took way too long to update. I’m really having a hard time finishing up and continuing my WIP’s. The Holidays always overwhelm me and I had to take an extra day off (today) to wind down!

Anyway, there was a hint for a future plotline in this chapter. The posse is indeed closing in on our guys. I wanted to write a little more history about Angel, Xander and Riley into this chapter but decided to cut it short. Also, next chapter, there will be a scene from Redemption involving perhaps Joyce, Lorne Deverson and maybe even Caleb?

Thank you for reading and please review. This story is getting closer to the end, I promise, spufette.

Chapter 21: ‘New Morning; New Beginnings’


Summary: I’m starting this chapter off a bit differently. It’s a little scene back in Redemption that will give closure to a couple of briefly seen characters so far. I hope you like it; I ‘think’ I do.

Lorne gets a surprise visitor at the bordello, early in the morning. He then makes some future plans for himself.


There may be a smidge of Spuffy lovin’ in this chapter, we’ll have to see.


Chapter 21:


Lorne Deverson sipped the hard liquor; it was whisky this morning, from his hefty glass. He was a self-gratifying man, Lorne was at most times; but lately, he had slipped into some extremely unhealthy, hedonistic practices. Even for him.

Case in point; his drinking hard liquor at 8:30 AM on a Saturday morning. Mr. Deverson, whoremaster extraordinaire, was no one’s fool; not by any stretch of the imagination. He knew that drinking at this time of the day was highly suspect, inappropriate and downright foolish. Ever since Caleb Montgomery had beaten poor little Harmony Kendall to a pulp, Lorne had taken to drinking and yes, even bathing at odd times during the day and night.

Of course, the dapper Mr. Deverson easily dismissed his new drinking habits by telling himself and others that he was distraught and yes, even remorseful for poor Harmony’s disturbing fate. However, it was more then that and Lorne, while feeling no guilt or stupidity in deceiving his business associates and so called friends? Well, he felt a fool in trying to deceive himself and yes, even God Almighty Himself.

He, Lorne Deverson, drank every chance he got, lately and not just since Montgomery had beaten Harmony into oblivion. Long before, the whoremaster had taken to drinking at odd times during the day and night. The truth was; Lorne was deceiving no one, especially himself and God.

This fine Nebraskan Saturday morning, Lorne sat on his office balcony and stared out at the happy little village of Redemption.
It was times like these; when he sat on the open balcony and surveyed the streets of this dusty town that Lorne realized he detested Redemption, completely. That or he detested himself and what he had truly become.

“I hate this fucking hellmouth,” Lorne grumbled as he sipped his whisky. “I’ve got to get the hell out of here and soon or I’ll……”

A knock at his office door broke the tall, dark haired man from his brooding reverie.

“What?” Lorne barked through the door that led from his first floor balcony to the closed office entrance.

“It’s Parker Mr. Deverson,” Lorne’s most trusted employee called from the other side of the office door. “I’ve brought young Cassie with me,” the young man added slowly.

Lorne flinched, just a bit and set his whisky glass on the wooden floor next to his chair. When he heard that young Cassie Newton was with his ‘floor man’ Parker Abrams, Deverson became a bit unnerved.

There was something about the very young, sweet and pretty little Cassie that always unnerved Lorne Deverson. The girl, she could be no older then eighteen years of age, had come to the Red Garter just as recent as six months before this.

Lorne had been reluctant to take the small, unassuming young woman in as another ‘girl’ in his stable, but Maggie, the head whore had insisted. Maggie assured Mr. Deverson that she would mold the mere nymph-like Cassie into a self assured, marketable prostitute.

Besides, as Maggie had so bluntly pointed out at the time; Cassie would have just ended up down at the other ‘establishment’ in Redemption. If Lorne hadn’t taken her in that is, the girl would have wound up at The Copperhead Saloon; a much lower rent type of bordello.

God only knew what Cassie Newton would have endured at that snake pit.

So, Lorne had relented in the end, but insisted from day one that Cassie only service the youngest, most inexperienced clients that came to the Red Garter. Only the youngest, cleanest and yes, best looking ranch hands, cowboys and sons of the local townsmen could request Cassie’s services.

Something about the girl, Cassie, just touched Lorne’s stone cold heart and made him remember his genteel upbringing. He was, after all, the son of a well born southern gentleman, Lorne was. It was probable that he could ‘feel’ a kindred spirit such as Cassie Newton. There was something almost spiritual deep and hidden in Cassie and her new boss had detected it from the start..

“What is it,” Lorne asked wearily as he opened the office door to find Parker and Cassie behind it. Parker looked nervous, while Cassie just looked wide-eyed and in awe of Lorne.

“There’s a lady here,” Parker stammered anxiously, “Mrs. Hank Summers…..and John Levison, the merchant. They’re…..”

Before he could finish, Parker was interrupted by his boss’s gasp of shock. “You can’t be serious! Mrs. Summers, here?” Lorne exclaimed roughly. “Where is she? You didn’t just leave her standing on the front porch of this dump, did you?”

“No sir,” Parker blurted out quickly. “Mrs. Summers and Mr. Levison are just a few feet from here, sir. Down the hall,” he offered with a sigh of relief. Apparently, he had done something right, again, Parker surmised as he noted his boss’s look of relief. He motioned down the hall with his right hand.

Joyce Summers and John Levison entered Lorne’s office, warily. Mrs. Summers’ right arm was properly entwined in Mr. Levison’s left one.

“Come in, Mrs. Summers, Mr. Levison,” Lorne stated evenly, “Parker,” he continued a little less politely, “go on out and see to the others. Cassie,” he finished with a nod at the pale girl, “I want you to stay here, with us.”

Cassie looked stunned, but hurried into the inner depths of the office and took a seat next to Johnathan Levison. She kept her blue eyes focused on her brown suede boots as she awaited her master’s next command.

“This is Cassandra Newton, Mrs. Summers, Mr. Levison,” Lorne pointed at the newly shocked Cassie. “Cassandra, this is Mrs. Joyce Summers and Mr. Johnathan Levison,” he grunted and set on an empty chair across from the trio.

“Miss Newton,” Joyce nodded her head and smiled warmly at the speechless Cassie. “Miss,” John grunted with a blush at the girl.

“I, well, how do you do,” Cassie murmured, barely able to say the polite greeting her mother had taught her years before. She favored Mrs. Summers with a slight smile and nodded at Mr. Levison.

“I have to ask, Mrs. Summers,” Lorne began cautiously, “why you would brave to come here? If the other good citizens of Redemption ever found out that…..”

“I am not concerned with the other good citizens of Redemption Mr. Deverson,” Joyce interjected politely. “I am concerned, however, with doing the right thing and coming here, personally, to thank you for your warning about Caleb Montgomery,” she finished with a quick frown.

“If my husband, Hank Summers, was not away,” Joyce continued evenly. “He himself would have come here and thanked you for your noble act. That and to assure you that our daughter, Buffy, had come to a realization regarding Mr. Montgomery. Even before she was taken by……” Joyce’s strong voice trailed off before she could finish the sentence.

“Caleb Montgomery is a monster,” Lorne muttered more to himself then anyone else. He raised his eyes to meet Mrs. Summers’ honest and open gaze. “There’s something else?” Deverson asked the formidable woman before him.

“The girl,” Joyce began carefully. “The poor girl that Montgomery harmed, I believe her name is Harmony? Is she all right then?” Mrs. Summers looked away from Mr. Deverson to study the young whore sitting next to John Levison. She noted that the rather pale, frail looking girl seemed to cringe at the mention of the unfortunate Harmony.

“Harmony is sequestered in a safe, comfortable place. She’ll survive and be fine for it,” Lorne mumbled half-heartedly, his eyes lowered to focus on the floor beneath them.

“I…..” Joyce stammered then paused to catch her breath. Joyce Summers knew a lie when she heard one and this man was lying to her, no doubt about it.

“Tell her the truth,” Cassie whispered to her employer, placing a gentle hand on Lorne’s shoulder. “Please Mr. Deverson. A lady like Mrs. Summers deserves the truth.”

Lorne sighed heavily and stood up from his chair slowly. “I’m afraid that while Harmony Kendall is in the best care possible? She’ll never recover physically from the beating that Montgomery bestowed on her. I took her to St. Louis, I’ve a cousin there by the name of Tucker Preston. I gave him plenty of money to care for Harmony.”

It was Joyce’s turn to sigh heavily. “Your cousin, Mr. Preston? He’ll be good to the girl?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes,” Lorne nodded firmly. “I have also given Tucker a hefty sum of money, kind of a dowry for Harmony. She’ll never be able to turn a profit in this line of work again and…..” Lorne paused when Johnathan coughed politely in warning.

“I’ve said too much Mrs. Summers and I do apologize,” Lorne mumbled. “This is not proper talk for a lady such as yourself,” he finished regretfully.

“Nonsense,” Joyce snorted, quite unladylike really. “I inquired after the girl and I want answers,” she stated firmly. “Will the girl, Harmony, be scarred for life? Physically,” she asked warily.

“Yes,” Lorne replied evenly, “she will. I have to admit, Mrs. Summers, like I said. I also gave Tucker a tidy sum to take responsibility for Harmony and yes, marry her eventually. Tucker is a good man, Mrs. Summers and he will give Harmony a good life; if not an easy one. My cousin is a fairly prosperous farmer just outside of St. Louis. The girl will have to work hard, of course, but at least she will be spared from this hard life.”

Lorne spared a glance at Cassie who seemed to have grown even paler in the last few moments. When he saw the fear and pain in the young woman’s blue eyes, Lorne decided right then and there to go forward with his plan.

“We should go,” Joyce Summers stated quietly as she stood and walked towards the office door. “I’ll thank you again Mr. Deverson,” she added with another smile at Cassie.

“Goodbye Mrs. Summers,” Lorne murmured softly as he watched Johnathan open the door for the older woman and follow her out of the office.

Cassie stood up and watched Mrs. Summers and Mr. Levison walk out of the office door. She felt a sudden urge to run after the older woman and hug her for some reason.

After they had left, closing the office door behind them, Cassie turned to face her boss. She smiled sadly at the older man before her, still confused about many things.

Lorne Deverson had never paid much heed to her, Cassie Newton, or so she thought anyway. In fact, the whoremaster of the Red Garter Saloon had seemed to go out of his way to ignore her on most occasions.

Unlike the other ‘girls’ that worked for Mr. Deverson? Cassie had never been invited to join Master Lorne in his private chambers under any circumstances. Today, when he had bade her to stay and meet with Joyce Summers and Johnathan Levison? It had thrown Cassie for a complete loss.

The other girls in Lorne Deverson’s employ had chatted, almost amicably, of the times spent in their boss’s bed. Apparently Mr. Deverson had a strong appetite for sex; for sex with all the women in the ‘house’ except Cassie that is. Cassie just assumed that she was not her employer’s type of whore and left it at that. Now however, she wondered, especially since the worldly man had made it clear that he knew what her Christian name was and there were other things as well.

Cassie remembered the time when Mr. Deverson had mentioned that he remembered something about the Newtons of Kentucky. It was at a party at the Red Garter. A special occasion on a holiday but Cassie couldn’t remember the exact time. There had been a young cowboy present, some rich rancher’s hired hand.

The ranch foreman, a rough, dirty older man, had requested Cassie for the evening. Mr. Deverson had steered the man, tactfully of course, to Sandy and motioned for Parker to send the younger, good looking ranch hand upstairs with Cassie.

She had always suspected that it was Mr. Deverson himself that had picked up the tab for her all night services for the young, bumbling cowboy. In fact, now that she thought of it, Cassie realized that it was ‘she’ that got all the young, clean and fairly decent men as customers.

“Is everything all right Mr. Deverson?” Cassie asked nervously as she plucked at a piece of thread on her skirt.

“Everything is fine Cassandra,” Lorne replied in a weary tone. “I’ve a good bottle of wine dear, would you care for some?” He gave the girl a look that told her that this was not a request but rather an order.

“Of course,” Cassie responded carefully, still a little confused by all of this.

After Lorne had poured a small glass of wine for each of them, Cassie looked up at him, gazing directly into his dark eyes. “May I ask how you knew my given name Mr. Deverson,” she asked boldly.

Lorne chuckled and sat down next to the anxious young woman. He set his wine glass down on the sturdy table nearby and took Cassie’s small hand in his.

‘She’s trembling like a virgin,’ he thought to himself, a little stunned by this. ‘A whore for months and she’s still as innocent as…..’

“I know many things about you Cassie, I mean Cassandra,” Lorne finally admitted quietly. He began to stroke her tiny hand, tenderly, with his rather large one. “For instance,” he continued evenly as he focused on her pretty little hand, “I know your family is well thought of in Kentucky and that you are the oldest of six children.”

“I, I don’t understand,” Cassie whispered. She almost pulled her shaking hand from his, but thought better of it. After all, this man was her boss and held her future in his hands.

“Cassandra,” Lorne sighed, placing her hand on his knee with his own hand over it. “I know a lot of things about a lot of people, especially the people that work for me. You are no exception my dear, but I wonder…..do you know where your beautiful name of Cassandra originated?” Lorne shot the girl a soft smile while he continued to pat her warm little hand with his.

“No,” she murmured in reply, turning her face from his, shyly.

“Well, I do,” Lorne whispered as he placed a gentle hand on her cheek to turn her face back so that their eyes met. “It’s a beautiful, spiritual name, my sweet,” he mumbled softly.

“From Greek mythology, that’s where it is from. Cassandra was the beautiful, wise daughter of King Priam of Troy.” He conveniently left out the part about the poor doomed Princess Cassandra being ridiculed and disbelieved about everything from start to finish. No point in making this poor girl more self-conscious and upset then she seemed to be right now.

“A princess?” Cassie murmured in sweet surprise. “Really,” she finished with a bright, easy smile.

“Really,” Lorne chuckled softly, tenderly brushing a lock of her soft brown hair from her face. “And I do believe that you seem a princess to me, Cassandra. I know also,” he smirked briefly, “that you are definitely somewhat educated and that you are an avid reader.”

Cassie blushed profusely at being caught out in her love of reading. Why Mr. Deverson was discussing all of this with her, now, was still a mystery however.

“Sit down Cassie,” Lorne ordered the girl gently as he poured her another glass of wine, slipping back to using her nickname. After pouring one for himself, Lorne sat in the chair just opposite his favorite employee.

“I am going to share something with you Cassie,” he began evenly. “I’ve had a few very promising offers on this place,” Lorne glanced about his office as he spoke. “One in particular has most interested me and I’ve decided to sell the Red Garter and move on from here.”

Cassie grew extremely pale and seemed to cringe when Lorne had admitted his plans to her. The girl nearly dropped the wine glass in her hand, but caught herself and placed it on the little table next to her.

“Oh,” is all Cassie could manage to mumble harshly as she nervously wrung her tiny hands together. Then, “please don’t sell the place Mr. Deverson,” she whimpered, “they’ll put me out on the street if you do and I’ve no place to go. Except……” she trailed off weakly.

Her overwrought reaction was all that Lorne Deverson needed to confirm his own inner beliefs. Cassie Newton was terrified of losing him as an employer; or, she was just plain terrified in general.

“Please dear,” Lorne reached out to take her shaking arm in his hand. “Do not be frightened or concerned, sweetheart,” he continued in a comforting tone. “I have no intention of allowing anyone to put you out or send you to a less promising future then this,” he finished with a wry scowl. Lorne glanced around the office again with furrowed brows.

‘As if this is such a bargain for you,’ he snorted to himself.

“In fact Cassie,” he began again, gently, “I have a most intriguing proposition for you and I believe it might be in your best interest to consider it?”

Mr. Deverson’s warm, affectionate smile caused Cassie to feel more at ease. Even if she was still in a quandary about the news he’d just dropped on her.

Cassie sat, stock still, her right brow raised in question at her good looking boss. Never in a million years would Cassie Newton had of guessed at the next set of words Mr. Deverson would say to her.

“Cassie,” Lorne stammered, something unusual for him as he was usually most self-assured. “I have a friend, a Mr. Campbell Frisk who runs a most respectable gambling parlour, out in California. San Francisco to be exact,” he added with a sly grin. “Mr. Frisk has offered me a position, at his establishment, as a kind of pit boss as they call it. I’ve decided to take Frisk up on his offer and sell the Red Garter to cover my expenses for the move.”

Lorne watched Cassie’s reaction, not surprised when she cringed again, her complexion was now white as a ghost. He quickly began to speak again.

“This is my proposition to you Cassandra,” he murmured carefully, watching the girl’s emotions play out on her pretty face. “I wish you to accompany me, to San Francisco, once I have finished up the sale of the Red Garter. Of course, I propose that Parker shall stay on and run the place for the new owner. Maggie will provide the know- how Parker needs to keep things up and running and…..”

“Are you thinking of starting a new ‘house’ then, in San Francisco Mr. Deverson?” Cassie blurted out carelessly. She just knew her tone resounded with resentment, but at the moment she could not have cared less.

‘Why the heck would he choose me to help him start up a new whore house?’ Cassie wondered silently. ‘I’m hardly the most experienced person to aid him in his new endeavor and…..’

Lorne laughed outright at the feisty young woman’s outburst, and her vexed expression. Oh, yes, Cassandra Newton would prove to be his match, Deverson had no doubt of that.

“No sweetheart,” Lorne chuckled, even more so when he saw the angry look in Cassie’s blue eyes. “I’m more then sure that the great Barbary Coast has more then enough sporting houses to go around.”

“Then why?” Cassie asked boldly, her slim arms crossed in front of her ample bosom. “Why would you want ‘me’ to go with ‘you’ to San Francisco?”

The whoremaster could swear he saw tears of confusion, or anger, or even sadness in the girl’s bright eyes. He felt bad for baiting the young woman so and cleared his throat to continue.

“I thought it might be advantageous, Cassie, to both of us, if you traveled with me as my say, companion?” Lorne suddenly blushed bright red and looked at his wine glass that he still clutched tightly in his large hand.

“Companion?” Cassie asked with a confused look. “I don’t understand Mr. Deverson,” she finished with a shake of her head.

“Let me explain,” Lorne murmured, taking Cassie’s tender little hand in his once again. “How would you like to accompany me to San Francisco as say my mistress? I know it’s sudden, dearest, but I have to admit that I do need an appropriate companion in my new home. I can promise you a large, comfortable home of your own and a steady income to maintain you. We shall live together, of course, and I would expect you to attend to my social obligations with me. As I said, Mr. Frisk runs a respectable place and I need an acceptable woman by my side to attend social engagements with me and hostess my own.”

“But, but me?” Cassie gasped in total shock. “Why me Mr. Deverson?” She sat, her blue eyes wide with disbelief, but there was more Lorne noted. The young woman had hope shining in her eyes, something that he had given up on long ago, but now?

“You are an exceptional young woman, Cassandra,” Lorne whispered softly, stroking her tiny hand once again. “I have always thought so and frankly,” he continued carefully, “I need a young woman such as yourself to be with me. You are bright; fairly educated, something I intend on furthering for you in Frisco; and pretty in a conventional, genteel fashion. In other words, Cassandra my dear? You are a perfect choice for me to take to California as my companion. I hope, in the near future, that if things work out, you will accept my proposal of marriage and give me a half a dozen children before it is over.”

There, Lorne had said it and Cassie had heard it. Now, all’s the stunned girl had to do was say yes and that would be that.


“Yes!” Cassie blurted out before either of them could take another breath. “Yes,” she stated more calmly, “I will go with you to San Francisco Mr. Deverson. I will be your mistress and someday, perhaps your wife and the mother of your children.”

“Well then,” Lorne chuckled in pleased contentment, “I suppose it’s time you called me Lorne then, eh?” He kissed Cassie’s little hand, quite gallantly, and then motioned for her to pick up her wine glass.

“Yes,” Cassie murmured as tears of happiness and relief spilled form her eyes. “It is time I called you Lorne.”

“To us, Cassandra Newton and Lorne Deverson,” he laughed heartily. “To a new beginning and the promise of a grand life together!” The couple clinked their glasses in toast and smiled affectionately at one another.


Spike lay wide awake, next to Buffy, his bride of just one day. He still couldn’t believe it, it so much like a wonderful dream to him, holding this beautiful girl in his arms.

When the Crawford Gang had ridden into Redemption, Nebraska, Spike had no idea he would meet his future wife there. God, he’d almost not allowed Angel to talk him into attending that ridiculous Church Social. What if he hadn’t of gone and met ‘seen’ Buffy for the first time? Spike didn’t even want to think of that possibility!

Buffy stirred in his arms and snuggled deeper into his embrace, her soft mouth was pressed against his bare chest. Spike smirked a bit when a really wicked idea came to his mind. Even though they had stayed up, most of the night and early morning ‘reconsumating' (as Buffy called it, each time with a lovely giggle) their marriage vows; Spike found that this morning, his dick was as hard as ever and he wanted to do nothing more then bury it into his beloved wife’s warm, wet little cunny.

So, when Buffy murmured something softly in her quasi-sleep, Spike began to tickle her wet cunny folds with first his fingers, then his ever growing cock. When he pressed the head of his into Buffy’s welcoming slick little passage, ever so gently, her eyes sprang wide open.

“Will!” Buffy squealed in delight, masked by a poor act of mock horror. “What are you doing,” she gasped in a high-pitched note as Will thrust himself completely into her. Not that it wasn’t wonderful of course but……

“I kind of thought you had what I was ‘doing’ all figured out by now, Princess,” he chuckled wickedly. “Especially since we ‘did’ it all last night and straight into this mornin’ and all.” He placed little kitten kisses all over her face and mouth quickly, even as he slowly pumped in and out of her.

“Yes, but…..” Buffy began breathily, but was cut short by Will’s handsome mouth on hers.

“Oh, the heck with it,” Buffy sighed dreamily into Will’s mouth. ‘It’s not like I don’t love ‘it’ anyway,’ she added to herself with her own mischievous grin.


A/N: I hope the little bit of Spuffy at the end of the chapter was enough this time. I wanted to give Lorne some closure in the story and I thought that having him basically run off with Cassie would be kind of neat.

Thank you for reading and please review. I love reviews of all kinds, spufette.

Chapter 22: ‘Any More At Home Like You?’


Buffy has a revealing chat with Xander and Riley. There are some ominous omens in this chapter; please read it and see if you can spot them.


Chapter 22:


Spike sauntered out of the barn into the clean Arizona air; a definite spring in his step. He ignored the various smiles, smirks and grins of his male companions who loitered about the front yard of the Doyle ranch.

“Get a good night’s sleep Spike?” Xander Harris greeted him with a loud, hearty laugh. “Did you have sweet dreams?”

“Sod off,” Spike growled good-naturedly, to his new friend. He side-stepped the men on the front porch and headed into his aunt’s home.

“Where’s Buffy, Spike?” Jesse, Xander’s younger brother called after him. “A little ‘under the weather’ is she,” he finished with a snort.

This question brought another round of loud gaffaws and chuckles from the group of various men and young Connor who stood with them. Only Graham appeared to have a sour look on his stupid face and Spike definitely chose to ignore that.


Buffy washed herself as good as she could, in a barn with water from a small tub that is. She quickly dressed and ran her long fingers through her hair. William had left their honeymoon ‘suite’ a while earlier, intent on letting her sleep a while longer.

Now, it was time for Buffy to rise and shine, so to speak and face the new day. She had never felt so alive or happy in her entire life and she felt that this was a good omen for the future.

‘Mrs. William Giles,’ Buffy hummed to herself, happily. ‘I wonder,’ she paused momentarily, a wonderful new thought in her head. ‘What if I’m…..’ Buffy dared not to finish the sweet thought, for fear it might not come true.

“William?” Buffy called through the barn door before she actually left the building. When she glanced about the Quinn front yard, she noticed several of the gang milling about outside.

‘Oh,’ Buffy sighed, just a bit intimidated by these men. That is until she spied Riley Finn and Xander Harris, sitting on the front porch of the Quinn home.

Buffy took a deep breath and strode, bravely, out into the yard, her head held high. If any of the men had anything to say, they held their tongues, even that nasty old Graham person.

“Hey,” Buffy greeted Xander and Riley amicably. “Is Will inside?” She asked shyly.

“Yup,” Xander grunted with an easy smile that Buffy had come to recognize. “He’ll be out, soon for you. Why don’t ya’ sit with us, Mrs. Giles and have a chat, eh?”

“Okay,” Buffy mumbled with a blush as she took an empty seat next to Riley Finn.

She sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment or two before finally speaking up. When she did, Buffy was immediately sorry she had asked anything.

“So, Xander,” Buffy stammered nervously, “how long did you know your wife? Before, uhm, I mean before you married her,”
She artfully changed the direction of her question.

‘Oh great, Summers, I mean Giles,’ Buffy mentally kicked herself. ‘You barely know this guy and you are asking all kinds of personal questions and…..’

Xander must have picked up on Buffy’s distress because he chuckled kindly and shrugged his massive shoulders. “A while,” he replied in a non-committed manner. “Anya was working at a place down in Kentucky, where we’re from,” Xander finished by nodding at his companion Riley.

“Oh,” Buffy replied meekly as she twiddled with a tendril of her hair that had fallen onto her cheek. “I see,” she stumbled along, blindly, trying to cover for her faux pas.

As a well brought up young woman, Buffy knew better then to ask such personal questions of these strange men. Even if they were hard, seasoned outlaws, Buffy knew better then this.

“Xander here swept Anya right off her feet,” Riley piped in, evenly as he took a drag from his cigarette. “He saw a good thing and acted on it,” the huge man drawled.

Buffy was fully aware that the cigarette Riley smoked was not the filled with the usual tobacco that William used. Nor was it the pipe tobacco her own father, Hank, employed for his after supper smoke.

Riley had saved Buffy’s life and her mind when he had mixed up the potable of peyote, back in Utah. If the mystic young man had not stepped in when he did? Buffy knew for sure she would be dead or her mind addled for life, at least.

This thought gave Buffy a little more confidence and she asked Riley, very politely of course, if ‘he’ had a young lady waiting for him somewhere. She noted, sadly, that a pained expression slipped across Riley’s face, but then was gone just as quickly.

“There was a girl, once,” Riley answered in an unusually quiet tone. “Back home, in Kentucky,” he continued softly.

Buffy watched as Riley took another deep drag on his unusual cigarette. The unfamiliar smoke that curled up from Riley’s mouth seemed to mesmerize Buffy.

“Her name was Samantha Deperieu. Her dad owned a nearby plantation, to my folks farm that is,” Riley sighed heavily. “We seemed to be crazy for each other,” he continued with a derisive laugh. “I thought we’d get married someday, maybe have a couple of kids, but…..”

“What happened?” Buffy asked the question carefully with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had a pretty good idea just what had happened though.

“Samantha’s father, he hated my guts,” Riley mumbled with a shrug of his huge shoulders. “Insisted that Sam marry someone else and she did. Just to please ‘daddy’ I guess. No loss really,” Riley muttered, tossing the butt of the peyote smoke on the ground before them.

“I’m sorry,” Buffy whispered sincerely, trying to blink back the threatening tears in her eyes. “This Samantha lost a good thing, Riley,” she offered evenly. “She was a fool and I bet some pretty senorita in Mexico will catch your eye as soon as we get there.”

“Well, Spike caught the real catch Buffy,” Riley chuckled amicably. “He’s a lucky man, your Spike is,” he added warmly.

Riley grinned at Buffy affectionately; he liked the little firecracker that his cohort Spike had found for himself. “I don’t suppose there any more at home, like you, eh Buffy?” Riley asked with a wicked smirk.

“Well,” Buffy began with a little giggle, “there’s my little sister, Dawn Lee. The problem is she’s only twelve-years-old and quite taken with Andrew Simmons, the butcher’s only son.”

“Your sister’s a bit too young, even for me,” Riley chuckled good- naturedly. “I guess I’ll have to look up some of those pretty girls in Nogales, Mexico, as soon as we hit town, eh Xand?”

“Yeah,” Xander drawled; his mind obviously someplace else. “You know?” Harris continued with his eyes focused on the hills in the distance. “As soon we catch up to Anya and Darla and the rest in Nogales? I’m gonna’ talk my beautiful wife into getting’ pregnant,” he finished with a nod of his dark head, a warm gleam in his dark brown eyes.

“Sorry Buffy,” Xander mumbled with a blush, “I shouldn’t of said that in front of a lady and all.”

“No apologies Xander,” Buffy murmured, patting his arm tenderly. “I know you must miss your beloved wife something awful. I meant what I said, back in Nebraska Xander. Your wife, Anya, and Angel’s Darla must be exceptional women and devoted to their husbands, completely.”


“You movin’ in on my wife, Finn?” Buffy turned to see her husband standing at the open front door of the house. Angel was right behind him, a goofy grin on his large face.

Buffy knew William was just playing with her and the two men she sat with. There was a huge smile on his handsome mouth and his blues eyes gleamed with merriment.


“Fat chance of that, Spike,” Riley grunted in response. “You’ve got this one’s heart and soul sewed up, that’s for sure.” He stood up from the chair and leisurely stretched his long arms.

“When are we headin’ out?” Xander asked suddenly as he stood to join his taller friend Riley.

“Soon, probably tomorrow,” Angel replied thoughtfully. “I’ve got a feeling that the posse from Redemption is close on our heels. I just want to get to Nogales and see my wife,” he continued wistfully. “ Probably should move out tonight really, but……”

Just then, young Connor shouted a warning from the ranch house fence.

“Angel!” Connor exclaimed wildly, “there’s someone coming this way.” The young man was pointing in the direction of a cloud of dust on the horizon.

“It’s only one rider,” Connor assured the anxious group in the front yard. “He’s ridin’ hell bent for leather though,” the lad added with a shout.


Doyle Quinn hurried out of the house and past the group of his guests that stood there. Quinn nearly ran to the place where Connor stood by the fence.

After a few moments of scanning the distant but nearing rider, Doyle trotted up to this front porch to join the others. There was a look of surprise, but not fear on the older man’s face.

“I know the rider,” Doyle assured the others quickly. “I’d know that gait anywhere and that horse. It’s a friend of mine, from Flagstaff. I’m not shocked to see him heading this way, but I am concerned. He’s got news for us, that’s for sure.”

“News?” Angel asked his uncle by marriage warily. “What kind of news do you think Uncle Doyle?”

“Well,” Doyle paused for a moment, “it won’t be ‘good’ news, I’m pretty sure of that. To be honest,” he continued carefully, “I set word out to some trusted blokes in Flagstaff, as soon as Cordy told me you guys were on the way. I made sure that young Simms there,” Doyle nodded towards the direction of the approaching rider. “I made sure he’d warn us if he heard anything worrisome in Flagstaff. Apparently,” the man continued nervously, “he has.”


“This is Silas Simms,” Doyle introduced the out of breath young man to the group of people on his porch. “This is Mrs. Buffy Giles,” he continued introducing the only female present, in a more personal manner.

“I’ve got some news, not very good at that,” Silas interrupted the introductions, impatiently. “That posse, from Nebraska,” he continued his conversation directly with Doyle. “They crossed the Utah/Arizona territorial border, just this morning. It’s not that far up to the border from here, Quinn,” he added matter-of-factly.

“Father Sanchez made sure I would ride out and let you all know about the posses’ whereabouts,” Silas explained politely to Buffy for some reason. “I thought I’d better get out here, soon as the sun come up and let you know,” the man returned his eager gaze to Doyle Quinn.

“Thanks, mate,” Doyle grunted at Silas and shook his hand. “You all better head out then,” he mumbled to Angel. “That posse is catching up to you and I don’t think it’ll take them long to figure out you’re all avoiding the big towns and haciendas here in Arizona. They might be a bit slow,” Doyle Quinn grinned snarkily, “but they’re not completely stupid,” he added with a laugh.

Buffy looked at William, who gazed down at her, squeezing her hand gently with his. “I’m sorry baby,” Spike sighed, “I guess we’ll have to pick up and move as soon as possible.”

“It’s okay, Will,” Buffy nestled into her husband’s embrace. “I knew what I was getting into when I took vows with you. I don’t regret any of it,” she added with a loving smile up at him.

Spike kissed Buffy’s lush little mouth, tenderly and hugged her tightly to his body. “I love you,” he murmured in her ear, nipping her neck gently.

“I love you,” she repeated back to him with great conviction.

“Well, I guess this means we’ll be in Mexico even sooner then we thought, baby,” Spike continued warmly. “You’ll get that honeymoon by the sea faster then we thought, eh?”

“Yup,” Buffy grinned happily. “I can’t wait to play in the waves, privately with you Will,” she chuckled. “Especially if we’re both naked as the day we were born,” she whispered lowly so just her husband could hear her naughty words.


“We’ll head out then,” Angel stated gruffly. “We’ll head down by Prescott, not in the city itself but close by. There’s an old family friend down by there,” he continued in his take charge voice. “He’s sympathetic to the Confederacy and he’ll put us up for a night or two. That posse from Redemption can’t catch us if they don’t know where to look for us. Now, can they?”


A/N: Well, here’s another chapter of my western. I know it wasn’t chock full of Spuffy but I wanted to reveal some history about the others in the gang. I also wanted to give more insight to Xander and Angel’s feelings about their wives.

It’s going to get kind of angstsy from here on in, I’m afraid. The characters in this story are outlaws and rough natured. This isn’t a fairy tale ending kind of story so there will be much unhappiness for some before it’s over.

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Summary: Spike, Buffy and the gang ride on through Arizona. The posse catches up to ‘some’ of the Giles/Crawford family members. Cordelia enlightens Mr. Hank Summers on a few things. Buffy and Spike have a minor spat about something.

Let the angst begin!


Chapter 23: ‘I Do Not Regret It’


Buffy glanced back, only once as she rode side-by-side with her husband, away from the Quinn ranch. She tried, very hard, not to let the threatening tears in her green eyes fall down her cheeks.

In the very short time that she had been at the Quinn home, Buffy had learned to care about Cordelia, her husband Doyle and their four boisterous children. It hurt, slightly, to have to leave the comfort of the loving Quinn home and ride off into the unknown that was the Arizona desert.

Still, however, Buffy knew in her heart that she had done the right thing. By marrying her wild but loving husband, William, she had found the happiness that she had always searched for. Certainly, Caleb Montgomery was not the path that she should take and by marrying Will, she had thrown her past away, completely.

Elizabeth ‘Buffy’ Summers was just that, a Summers woman through and through. Her mother, Joyce, was a loving but tough farm woman who had to acclimate to a hard, unforgiving life. Surely if Joyce had succeeded in the ups and downs of the Nebraskan wilderness; then Buffy could do the same in the foreign wilds of Mexico.

The unknown did not matter, really, since Buffy would follow her handsome, brilliant husband to the depths of hell if she had to. Something in Buffy told her that the burning, desolate sands of the Arizona desert just might come as close to earthly hell as she might ever get. If so? Fine.

“I’m sorry baby,” William stated from the corner of his mouth as he rode by his wife’s side. “I really hate having to drag you off to…..”

“Don’t you dare William Giles,” Buffy snapped back abruptly. “It was my choice to marry you and follow you. I don’t regret it and I never will. Do you?”

“No bloody way!” Spike cried incredulously. “I could never regret any of our time together sweetheart,” he halted his horse, Midnight, and caught hold of Buffy’s mare’s reins. Buttermilk, the young mare that Spike had given his girl earlier, obediently halted in her tracks and quickly accepted Midnight’s adamant attention to her.

“I love you Buffy,” Spike stated earnestly as he reached out and took Buffy’s free hand in his. “I mean that and nothing that happens from here on in will ever change that!”

“I know,” Buffy whimpered softly, unable to meet her husband’s deep blue eyes with her green ones. “I know you love me, Will and I am sorry I ever even asked ‘that’ question of you. Forgive me?” She asked sweetly with a pout and finally meeting his searching gaze.

“Always,” he chuckled from deep down in his chest. “I couldn’t be mad at you if my life depended on it, Buffy Giles,” he added, skillfully reminding his bride of her recent name change.

“Well then, that being settled? Let’s ride,” Buffy quipped before she leaned over and gave Will a quick but heated kiss on his mouth.

‘I’ve gotten myself mixed up with a real wild cat,’ Spike chuckled heartily as he spurred Midnight into a full trot. He had to spur the steed up to a gallop, just to catch up with his minx of a wife.

’24 hours later’


Spike, Buffy and the gang rode up to a range fence that seemed to go on for miles. Buffy scrunched up her nose and glanced over to William’s cousin, Angel.

“Is this your friend’s place,” she asked Angel Crawford, her mouth set in a firm, no nonsense line.

“Yup,” Angel grunted in reply, spurring his horse to ride along next to the fence. “The gate up to the ranch is just about right over there,” the dark haired man pointed at a huge gated opening that looked to be about a mile away, at least.

“I see,” Buffy giggled mischievously. “Well,” she sighed, “I guess there’s nothing to do but to go in, eh?” She glanced over at her husband who was grinning at her warmly.

“What’s this bloke’s name anyway, Angel? Your friend that owns this spread I mean,” Spike asked his cousin curiously.

“Well,” Angel mumbled evenly, “the actual owner’s name, at least on paper? It’s Serranto, Jose Serranto, but he owns the place in name only. The guy that really owns it is another matter. He’s called Holliday; John Henry Holliday to be exact. The doctor is probably not even here, truthfully, but old Serranto will put us up for sure,” Angel continued sheepishly.

“Your friend, Mr. Holliday,” Buffy asked shyly, “he is a doctor then?”

“A dentist by trade, from the South, Georgia first, then Virginia,” Angel replied with a shrug. “Holliday came out here, to the Arizona Territory for health reasons.” Then Angel said no more on the matter.


“Why do ‘you’ have to go to Prescott!” Buffy snapped angrily at her husband. They were standing in Mr. Holliday’s guest room, their room, and arguing heatedly.

“I have to,” Spike sighed heavily as he tried to take his wife in his arms.

“But why,” Buffy whined liked a small child. She even stomped her foot, just a little in frustration.

“Because Angel trusts me and my dad,” Spike replied in an impatient tone.

Angel had asked Spike, Rupert Giles and Holden to go into Prescott and snoop around. The gang leader had to know what was going on with ‘that’ posse and certainly Prescott would be abuzz with news on it.

“I’ll be back before nightfall, sweetheart, I promise,” Spike murmured softly, finally triumphant in taking Buffy into his arms.

He snuggled her into his body and was pleased when she rested her head on his chest.

“I am frightened,” Buffy whispered mournfully. “What if something happens to you? I would just die without you Will, honest and…..”

“Nothing is going to happen to me Princess,” Spike chuckled then placed a kiss on Buffy’s golden head. “Nothing on God’s green earth could keep me from you, baby.”


‘Meanwhile, back at the Quinn ranch…..’


“So they were here then?” Hank Summers asked this Doyle Quinn and his wife. Buffy’s father was getting more then frustrated with this couple, no matter how well-heeled they appeared to be.

Marshall Merrick paced back and forth in front of his deputies; Hank Summers and Doyle and Cordelia Quinn. He was quickly losing his patience, also, just as Summers was. It had been a fluke that someone in Flagstaff had felt it their duty to inform the marshal and his posse that the Quinns had recent had visitors.

“Let me ask you something, Mr. Summers,” Cordelia Quinn asked quietly as she motioned her oldest child out of their parlor. “Do you ‘know’ your daughter at all? I mean really know her and what is in her heart?”

Hank stopped his own pacing and stared at the pretty Mrs. Quinn, a curious look on his face. He walked, slowly up to the small woman and gazed deep into her brown eyes.

“I know enough, Mrs. Quinn,” he replied evenly through gritted teeth. “I know that you are Angel Crawford and Spike Giles’ aunt; that much is for sure. Your Rupert Giles is your late sister’s widower and there is a man in Redemption who is also related to you. Wesley Pryce, or should I say Caldendar, is your brother and probably had a hand in puttin’ up the Crawford gang while they were there. I only wish……”

“Do you know that your daughter, Buffy, took vows with my nephew, William Giles, right through there in my living room?” Cordelia asked defiantly, her arms crossed over her chest. “Can you even fathom that, Mr. Summers? That your daughter is now married to her so called abductor?”

Hank reared back, an incredulous look of disbelief in his brown eyes. “No,” he gasped hoarsely.


“Oh, yes,” Cordelia snapped triumphantly. “You see, Mr. Summers,” she continued tartly. “My nephew, William, and your daughter are very married. I hate to say this, Mr. Summers, but if you go on, chase the gang all the way through Arizona? I have no doubt that it will end in somebody’s bloodshed, possibly your new son-in-laws. Is that what ‘you’ really want, Mr. Summers?”

“No,” Hank whispered harshly, turning to look at Marshall Merrick with pleading eyes.

“It makes no difference, Hank,” Merrick grunted gruffly. “The one called Graham is riding with the Crawford gang and that makes them ‘all’ accessories to the murder of Sheriff Wilkens. It’s that simple,” the older man shrugged indifferently.

As the group of men, Hank included, left the Quinn house; the anxious father stopped the marshal with his calloused hand.

“I don’t want any harm to come to this house or this family, Merrick,” Hank grumbled lowly.

“They harbored criminals, outlaws, Hank! I have to…..” Marshal Merrick growled as he pulled his arm from the larger man’s hand.

“No,” Hank hissed. “I won’t have it,” he continued in a menacing tone. “These people took in my daughter, whether you like it or not. I won’t have them intimidated or harmed, especially with four children to care for!”

Hank Summers was a quiet man, usually, but in this matter, he was vocal and determined. “The Quinns won’t be bothered anymore,” he commanded harshly.

“Okay then Hank,” Merrick agreed reluctantly. “I guess it’d serve no use to mete out punishment now. The gang is probably near the border by now,” he spat in disgust.



William had left with his father and Holden an hour or so before sunrise. Buffy was miserable, even if Senora Serranto tried her best to make the new bride comfortable.

“Senora Giles,” the kindly older woman clucked as she patted Buffy’s slim arm. “They will be back and soon, I promise. Try and have some food, huh?”

Buffy ate her breakfast quickly and nervously excused herself from the table. She hurried out into the beautiful desert morning air without a plan as to where she was going.

After walking a mile or so, Buffy came upon a rocky bluff and flopped down on a boulder. Something about the place gave her the creeps; as if it was a duplicate of the place she had had her accident, in Utah.

“Well, well, well,” came the unwanted voice of Graham, “what do we have here?”

“Go away Graham,” Buffy hissed, not even turning to look at the evil man. “I am so not in the mood to listen to your crap right now.”

“My, haven’t we gotten a mouth on us, Mrs. Giles,” Graham chuckled in a harsh voice. “Since you married that punk, Spike you……”

Now, Buffy turned to glare at the man behind her, her green eyes were filled with fire and anger.

“Do not speak my husband’s name,” she spat venomously. “You are not fit to mention Will’s name to anyone, much less me! If you hadn’t of shot Uncle Richard, no one would be in this much trouble! Everything might be fixed but…..”

“Doubtful,” Graham grunted as he flopped down beside Buffy, totally ignoring her order to leave.

“Go away,” Buffy hissed in her most menacing voice.

“I was thinkin’ Mrs. Giles, Buffy,” Graham corrected himself quickly. “Say Spike and old Rupert, even Hold? Say they get themselves caught in Prescott? It could happen you know,” he added maliciously.

“Get away from me,” Buffy hissed again.

“This song and dance are getting’ old Buffy,” Graham growled through narrowed eyes. “I think it’s time you played a new tune. Mine,” he spat viciously.

“I wouldn’t give you a song and dance if you were the last man in…..” Buffy choked out before Graham interrupted her.

“If Spike doesn’t come back, Buffy,” he continued in a syrupy voice, “then you’re kind of odd woman out. Ain’t ya?”

“Hardly,” Buffy quipped haughtily, but her voice trembled just a bit. Graham must have caught the slight tremor in her tone because he scooted closer to her.

“I’m thinkin’ Buffy, that a fine lady like you belongs in a fine, genteel setting. Like the South, say? Not in some hard spot in Mexico or even California. Yeah, I know you and your man have been gabbin’ about California, eventually. That’s all very well and good, but if Spike don’t come back? Well, I’ve got friends and family in Alabama, even more so then ever.”

Buffy shrunk away from Graham, but he caught her roughly by her arm.

“I got friends, family and connections, Buffy, still in Alabama. A real lady like you deserves silk and fine wine; a life of gentility and quality. I could give you that, Buffy,” Graham muttered lowly, harshly, as he stroked Buffy’s bare arm.

“ Get your damn hands off of me!” Buffy cried in a high-pitched squeal.

Graham tried to pull Buffy closer to him, but she struggled valiantly in his strong arms.

“I believe the lady said to get your damn hands off of her,” Riley Finn’s welcomed, deep voice stated the obvious.

Buffy managed to pull away from Graham and jump up from the rock. She scurried over to Riley, relieved that he was there to help her.

“This ain’t any of your business, Finn,” Graham growled as he stood up from his place on the boulder.

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong, Graham,” Riley countered coolly. “I respect and admire Spike and his wife, whereas, I don’t give a rat’s ass about you,” he grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Sorry Buffy,” Riley nodded at Buffy, but then gave her a good-natured wink.

“You know Finn,” Graham growled as he strode nearer to Riley and Buffy a murderous look on his face. “Oh you’re a real fucking hero all right, ain’t ya? But I bet if Spike don’t come back from Prescott, you’d jump Buffy here faster then…..”

“Take it back,” Riley roared angrily. “Take that back and apologize to Mrs. Giles! It insults Buffy, Spike and me. You’d better take it back, Graham or……”

Buffy watched the next few moments unfold in horror, as if watching everything in a slower, unrealistic motion.

Graham reached for his gun; Riley countered by reaching for his own on his hip. The two angry men pulled their guns at the same time and shot.

It was Graham that fell first, but Buffy could not have cared less. Riley fell right after him and she stooped to check her husband’s friend. There was bright red blood coming from a gunshot wound in Riley’s chest and it was pooling out, all over the ground.

Suddenly, Angel, Connor, Xander and Jesse were by her side, something Buffy would forever be grateful for.

“Oh, Angel,” Buffy cried mournfully, “Graham, he tried to hurt me; said awful things about Spike and…..”

“It’s okay, honey,” Angel cooed in an attempt to comfort his cousin’s wife. The older man knew, without a doubt, that the gunshot wound in Riley was definitely fatal.

Xander hovered over his best friend’s shivering body, trying hard to keep up hope but he was no fool. His childhood friend, Riley, was going to die for sure.

“What about Graham?” Jesse asked almost non-chillingly.

“We’ll deal with him later,” Angel growled, his brown eyes scanned Riley’s pale face. Angel held Buffy fast, even though she still hovered over Riley’s inert form.

“I wish Will was here,” Buffy murmured through quiet sobs. “I need Will,” she continued, weeping softly for the dying man before them.

“Riley,” Xander whispered hoarsely, a lone tear slipped down his cheek and he wiped it away.

“Xand,” Riley moaned his friend’s name, his pain contorting his handsome features. “I guess I’m not going to see those pretty senoritas in Mexico, huh?”

“Oh God,” Jesse whimpered softly from above the trio hovering over Riley’s body.

“Buffy,” Riley whispered in a raspy voice, “you tell Spike that I think he’s a lucky bloke, okay? He…..” Riley gasped harshly and tried to take a deep breath.

Riley wheezed and gasped and opened his eyes wide. He spoke two words before he took his final breath.

“Mama,” Riley whispered as his lids slid half-way closed. “Sam,” he gasped out just before his eyes closed all the way.

“Oh, God no,” Buffy began to cry mournfully. “Oh, Angel, no,” she sobbed fitfully, allowing her husband’s cousin to embrace her in his huge arms.

“He can’t be dead, he can’t,” Buffy wailed incessantly.

“Honey,” Angel murmured soothingly, “let’s get you back to the ranch house. Connor will take you to Mrs. Serranto, okay?”

“See that he’s buried, proper, Angel, please,” Buffy pleaded desperately.

Angel’s deep, dark eyes were filled with compassion and sympathy as he helped Buffy to her feet. Connor accepted Buffy’s arm from his brother and led her off, up the bluff to the ranch.

“What about him?” Jesse asked his leader once again as he eyed Graham’s slightly moving form. The remaining trio could hear Graham’s low groans of pain.

“Yeah,” Xander growled, his jaw clenched in rage and emotional pain. “What about fuck face over there?”

Angel looked over at Graham, then back at Xander and Jesse. He reached down to his hip and pulled out his gun.

“Give Connor a few minutes to get Buffy safely up to the ranch,” Angel ordered in his most stoic tone. “When we’re sure Conn and Buffy are out of earshot? We’ll all finish Graham off, for good.”


A/N: I promised angst, didn’t I? I just never said that it would be Spuffy angst right off, right???

I really wanted to make Riley a kind of hero in this story. Usually, I use him as the villain or the jilted lover of Buffy.

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

Redemption Chapter 24:


Summary: Spike returns to Doc Holliday’s ranch and finds out the sad news. Buffy insists that the ‘gang’ give Riley Finn a most proper Shawnee burial.

The gang heads out and gets closer to Nogales and freedom. Unfortunately? So does the posse from Redemption.



Chapter 24: ‘Adios; Vaya Con Dios’


Spike wearily rode up the path that led to Holliday’s sprawling ranch house. If he expected anyone to come out and greet him personally; He was sadly disappointed.

Not even Buffy came to meet him and this struck Spike as rather odd indeed. His father, Rupert Giles and the unfathomable Holden Webster trudged along behind him on their own horses.

Midnight, Spike’s trusted steed was nearly exhausted and Spike felt truly guilty about that. Rupert had tried to convince his headstrong son that perhaps they should stay in Prescott for the night. Just to give the poor horses some rest if nothing else.

Nope, Spike had balked at that idea, wanting to get back to his bride as soon as humanly possible. So here they were, near exhaustion themselves, plodding along, up the worn path to the illusive doctor’s Arizona home.

“I’d of thought my bride would at least be watchin’ for us,” Spike grumbled to his father.

“Buffy loves you son,” Rupert sighed, more from fatigue then exasperation. “She’s probably inside the hacienda, anxiously waiting for you to……”

“Somethin’s wrong,” Holden blurted out as his horse caught up with Spike’s and Rupert’s. “I can sense it,” the intuitive young man continued uneasily. “Spike’s right Mr. Giles. His young wife ‘would’ be out here, if she could. Somethin’s off.”

That was all Spike had to hear and he spurred Midnight to a full on gallop. He was followed right behind by his father and Holden, who he, Spike, had gained a bit more respect for in the last few hours.

Angel was waiting for the trio when they entered Holliday’s huge living room area. Spike knew, right away that something was more then wrong.

“Where’s my wife?” Spike asked his cousin anxiously as he tried to push past the taller, larger man.

“Wait, Spike,” Angel commanded evenly. “Buffy’s okay; asleep I think, or so Senora Serranto told me. It’s not Buffy, cousin, it’s Riley and Graham,” Angel finished sorrowfully. “They’re both dead and…..”

“Dead?” Spike spat in disbelief. “What the fuck happened, Angel? Why is…..”

“Let him speak, William,” Rupert interjected firmly. “What happened nephew?”

Angel made quick work of telling the sad story of Riley’s demise, leaving out the personal things Buffy had told him. After all, that was for a wife to tell her husband, not someone else.

Spike shook his head in disgust, “I’m sorry Holden, but that friend of yours was a bloody right wanker.”

Holden sighed and nodded his dark head, “I know Spike. Graham wasn’t ever right, not after the Yankees burned his folk’s place in Alabama. It’s not like Graham and me were best buddies, okay? We just came from the same county in ‘Bama and nothin’ much more. I’m thinkin’ that Graham might of insulted your wife and Riley stepped in. Is that right Angel?”

Angel confirmed Holden’s assumptions, but again, made it clear that the entire story should be told by Buffy.

“We buried Graham, out in the desert,” Xander offered in a terse, unremorseful tone. “Made sure he was good and covered,” Harris added evenly. “The marker says his name ‘Graham’ from Alabama. Never knew his real last name and…..”

“I have to go to my wife,” Spike mumbled as he turned and left the living room area. “She needs me,” he called back to the rough men behind him.

Buffy was in the guest room, crying her green eyes out. She, of course, blamed herself for both of the men’s deaths.

“Baby,” Spike whispered hoarsely when he stepped through the bedroom door. “Baby, please…..”

Buffy looked up from the bed on which she lay and saw her husband standing before her. Not missing a heartbeat, she leapt up from the bed and threw herself into Spike’s welcoming arms.

“It was my fault,” Buffy wailed as she melted into her husband’s comforting arms. “I should never have gone for that walk, by myself. I wanted to clear my head and…..”

“You had every right to go for a walk baby,” Spike murmured softly into his wife’s warm little ear. “I spoke with Angel and he told ‘most’ of the story. How about you tell me the rest?”

“I went for a walk, after you left,” Buffy whimpered. “I thought if I walked and thought things out? That I wouldn’t be so darned angry with you, Will. There was a bluff; an ugly harsh place that seemed fitting for my mood. I’d been there, only a moment or two and Graham showed up.”

Spike tensed at the dead man’s name, but calmed himself and bade Buffy to continue.

“He said bad, awful things about you darling,” Buffy sobbed at the memory of Graham’s harsh words. “Graham said you might not come back and he tried to convince to go away with him…if you didn’t,” she choked.

“That fucking low life…..” Spike hissed, but Buffy cut him off.

“He’s dead, Will,” she whispered in a pained, raspy voice. “We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

“Graham,” Buffy stammered, “he put his hands on me and that’s when Riley showed up. Riley, he told Graham to leave me be and all. When Graham reached for his gun; so did Riley. They shot each other and…..”

Buffy choked on her words and buried her head in her husband’s chest. “If Riley hadn’t of come along? Graham might have…..”

“It’s over,” Spike murmured quietly, “it’s all over baby. I’m so sorry about Riley, but it’s not your fault. Look,” he reared back and placed his right hand under her trembling little chin.

“Riley, just like Graham; they chose this life, sweetheart. Just like me and my father. We chose to go this path. Just thank God that old Riley was here to help you. It’s my fault, sweetling, not yours; I chose to listen to Angel and go to Prescott. You just went for a walk and that’s no sin, Buffy love. I’m just glad that Riley was here to help you.”

Buffy burst out into a new torrent of tears and clutched at Spike desperately. “I thought you might not come back…..” Buffy sobbed into his black shirt, “I love you,” she finally managed to cry.

“I know that, baby,” Spike whispered hoarsely in reply. “I love you too and I will always come back to you, baby. Always.”.

“Make love to me, Will,” Buffy murmured softly, nuzzling his pale, strong neck with her lips. “I need you, baby,” she declared, her tone was a mix of a purr and desperate pleading.

“Now, how could I refuse that, baby,” Spike whispered huskily in reply. He laid Buffy back on the bed and proceeded to unbutton her little silky white blouse.

Riley Finn, son of an Irish immigrant and Shawnee princess, was given a most appropriate funeral service. Buffy and Xander had both insisted that they place Riley on a quickly made funeral pyre.


They began the ceremony, a Shawnee burial rite, at least as close as they could manage, at sunset that very night. After Senor Serranto spoke some Catholic words in Spanish, Xander said words of remembrance for his childhood friend.

Buffy sobbed during the entire service, her head buried in Spike’s strong, supportive chest. She insisted that Xander and Jesse spread Riley’s beloved peyote seeds over his body, just before they lit the torches in their hands. Once the words, both Christian and Indian were completed over the body? Xander, Jesse and Rupert Giles lit the simple wooden funeral pyre, therefore his body, with the torches and sent Riley’s immortal soul up to the Great Father in the sky.

“Adios Riley,” Xander whispered sadly as he watched the smoke rise from the funeral pyre.

After the mortal body of Riley Finn had burned to ashes, Spike handed his wife over his father. He tapped Angel on his shoulder and nodded to a spot far away from the others.

“Where’d you bury Graham?” Spike asked Angel in a hushed voice. They had gone out of ear shot of others before Spike asked.

“About two miles out,” Angel grunted in reply, his brown eyes were dark and closed.

“Far enough so that some worthless shit posse can’t connect the Serrantos with us,” Angel added roughly.

“Good,” Spike sighed. “These folks don’t need any trouble and I’ve no idea what this Merrick bloke is about. Hank Summers might be Buffy’s father but we’re the enemy to the whole lot of them and that’s that. I found out, in Prescott, that the posse is closer then ever, Angel. We’ve got to get the bloody hell off of this ranch and head out, tonight if possible.”

“Right,” Angel agreed with his cousin. “We’ll leave, as soon as we can pack everything together. Will Buffy be able to ride?”

“She will,” Spike assured Angel, a little reluctantly. “I hate to make her up and move again, so soon and after today but…..”

They packed and left, all of them, except poor Riley and Graham, of course. It was Mrs. Serranto that cried and babbled ‘adios’ and ‘vaya con Dios’ to Buffy so at least twenty times.

Buffy found that it was easier to leave the comfort of a loving, warm home this time. Maybe it was because she wanted away from this place and the unhappy memories it held. Or maybe it was because she was becoming harder, emotionally that is. As hard as the rocks and sage brush that surrounded the smaller group of people that rode on to some mere settlement by the name of Scottsdale.

‘Is this how Darla and Anya are?’ Buffy asked herself as she rode her mare next to husband. ‘Have they become as hard as these men and why? Because they had to?’

Buffy sighed inwardly and scanned the horizon that they headed into. Perhaps if God was with them? They would finally make it to Nogales.

Of course, it would take days to reach Scottsdale alone; especially if they tried to travel only after sundown. However, that’s how it would have to be if the group tried to escape the blistering heat of the Arizona sun.

The posse would probably take the same path, traveling after the merciless sun went down. Still, the gang could stay a step or two in front of them, if they pushed themselves that is.


They rode along, into the vast darkness before them, unable to stop and rest for too long anyway. Buffy listened to the noises about her as her mare, Buttermilk, trod along next to William’s horse, Midnight.

A sharp, shrill howl pierced the black night and Buttermilk reared up in fear. Buffy pulled the reins on her mare, causing William to hold back Midnight.

“We’ll catch up,” Spike called to the other gang members ahead of them. He took the reins from Buffy and pulled Buttermilk closer to his own horse.

“Come ‘ere,” Spike commanded Buffy gently as he held out his arms to her. “You’ll ride with me from here on in,” he added with a warm smile. “I like that better anyway,” he winked at her.

Buffy quickly scooched off of Buttermilk and onto Midnight. She plopped down in front of Will and leaned back against her husband. When she had snuggled into his strong body, he tied her mare’s reins to his horse’s saddle horn.

“Now you lay back, baby,” Spike murmured soothingly into Buffy’s ear. “You just lay back and listen to the beauty of the songs that the creatures of the night sing to each other. I’m bettin’ that the howl was from a male coyote, callin’ to his mate.”

“I like that thought,” Buffy sighed in contentment as William spurred Midnight a bit to catch up with the others.

“I thought you would,” Spike chuckled huskily, placing a comforting kiss on the top of his wife’s soft, golden head.

“I’m sorry Princess,” Spike mumbled with regret after a moment’s silence. “To take you on this trek and…..”

“Stop it,” Buffy cried as she bolted up and turned as much as she could to face her husband. “You just stop it right there, William Giles! I’m a real cowgirl now,” she declared proudly. “I can take anything this damned place has to dish out!”

With that, Buffy pulled her borrowed hat down over her forehead and scooted up to kiss Will on his mouth. “You best get used to it, groom,” she giggled mischievously, “I’m a tough little prairie girl and I can out do any of these so called outlaws!”

“Damn straight, bride,” Spike yelped in reply; his blue eyes danced with delight.


‘Meanwhile, back at Doc Holliday’s ranch…’


“You think that there’s really a body down there?” Marshal Merrick looked over at Mitch, the deputy from Redemption. “I mean, it could be a trick. Angel’s pretty crafty from what I hear and…..”

“There’s a body in there,” Sam grunted indifferently. “Whether it’s this Graham’s or not? Who knows. I sure as hell ain’t gonna’ dig it up and check it. Are you?” He gave the arrogant marshal a sly half grin.

“If it is Graham, the one that shot Wilkens,” Hank Summers added thoughtfully, “then I guess justice was kind of served. But, what do suppose he died from?”

“Who knows,” Merrick grunted with a shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe it’s a trick, like I said; to throw us off. Crawford might think if he gives us a grave, we’ll back off. But we won’t, will we?” The marshal shot Summers a stern look and followed Sam off towards the ranch off in the distance.

“Where you off to then Sam?” Merrick called to the Indian tracker.

“Somethin’s not right; there’s more,” Sam shouted back to the rest of the group. “Someone’s been burned, over there I think,” he pointed to a clearing in the distance.

“It’s recent, maybe a day or two,” Sam declared matter-of -fact like; as he scanned the dark sandy ground beneath them. He stood and brushed his hands off.

“It was a Shawnee burial; I’m sure of it. Wasn’t that one fella part or something?” Sam scrunched up his dark, bushy brows and surveyed the burnt ground again.

“He was. His name’s Finn, I think,” Mitch offered. “Came into town with the others and was there when they robbed the bank. So, you think this Finn was killed too?”

“He was somethin’ that’s for sure,” Sam grunted again and ran his big hand over the black sand. “If it was him they burned anyway. This was a Shawnee rite, no question about that.”

“Well, we know one thing for sure,” Merrick began, spitting his tobacco on the unborn sand.

“What’s that,” Hank asked skeptically as he reverently eyed the burnt ground beneath them.

“We know that the Crawford gang is missing at least two members,” Merrick stated with a slight grin. “That’s bad luck for them, but good luck for us.”



Three days and nights later, the dusty gang finally made it to Scottsdale. Or what there was of it; being not much more then a few ranches and a mercantile set in the middle of them.

They decided to make camp, just outside of the most outermost hacienda. Buffy and Spike were given a private area of their own, which was greatly appreciated by the newlyweds.

It was miles and miles of unrelenting desert until their destination. But, as long as Spike and Buffy had each other? Everything would be okay.


A/N: Sorry, this chapter really sucks and don’t I know it. I’m having a really hard time in RL right now, but I’m trying, I really am. I’m writing because I feel it’s good for the soul (at least I hope so).

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.

Chapter 25: ‘Desert Song’


Summary: The gang is closer to their destination. I’m writing a lot of this plot line now from memory of when I lived in the vicinity of where it takes place. The area can be very brutal and unforgiving.

The next chapter will be full of more information and plot line, hopefully exciting plot line.


Miraculously, or perhaps more tenaciously then that; the rag tag gang of outlaws and Buffy had made it to the outskirts of Tucson in just a few days. Actually, it was a few nights, truthfully, since that is mostly the time the group traveled.

The desert heat was brutal during the day, making it almost impossible to rest or sleep. Nighttime travel was a necessity for the gang; they could only hope that the posse from Redemption was doing the same.

Although some of the gang headed into Tucson, after they made camp, Spike and Buffy opted to stay put for the day. There was no need for them to go completely into the makeshift town, especially since all’s they truly needed was each other.

“We’re nearly in the middle of town." Buffy rather overstated as she stripped off her gauchos and blouse. William was already naked, waiting for her to join him in the comfy looking bed.

A kind elderly farmer and his wife had offered the group shelter, near Tucson. Buffy had the inclination that either Angel; Rupert Giles or one of the other gang members had connections with the old man. She chose not to pursue the question; just thankful that they had a roof over their head and a nice bed to use.

“Come ‘ere,” Spike ordered with a husky growl as he watched his wife undress. His blue eyes were dark with lust as they surveyed the naked glory of his mate.

“You’re ordering me about now?” Buffy asked in mock indignation. “Why, I oughta,” her sentence was cut off when William leapt out of the bed and grabbed her, pulling her down onto the bed with him.

“You oughta’ what, wife?” Spike rasped hoarsely as he dispensed with the premise of restraint. He hadn’t ‘had’ his wife in two days or nights and he intended on making up for it; right this moment.

“Not orderin’ you about, sweetheart,” Spike murmured in a husky lust filled voice. “Just wantin’ to make up for the two days I haven’t been able to do this…..”

He spread her luscious bare, long legs and pushed his cock into her slick little cunny. “There now,” he grunted as he began to thrust in and out of her. “Is that so bad then?” He asked seductively as his mouth crashed down onto hers.

“Mmmmm,” Buffy purred in a kiss laden muffled voice. “Not bad at all,” she giggled wickedly once she’d pulled her lush mouth from his. “I think, in fact, that we’ll need to spend many hours, husband, making up for lost time!”

“Buffy, Buffy, I love you so much,” Spike purred in between kisses and thrusts. He chanted her name like the prose of a song.

“I love you, Will,” Buffy panted each time they came up for air from their kissing.

Later, they lay together; their bodies entwined in sexually sated contentment. Their mutual, soft sighs blended in tune like a sweet melodic song.

“Will,” Buffy murmured, breaking the tranquil silence between them. “There’s more then one reason for our being so close to this town. Isn’t there?”

Buffy sat up on the bed and gazed into her husband’s blue eyes. She knew he would not, and could not lie to her and that was for certain. Her William would never lie to her; especially if she asked him a question point blank.

Spike sighed heavily; he reached over and down to the floor to pull a smoke from his trousers. This was going to take some explaining to his wife and he had to prepare himself for her reactions.

“Yeah,” he mumbled nervously as he lit the cigarette and took a deep, satisfying drag from it. “There is a few reasons for takin’ a chance so close to a larger town, baby.”

“What is it,” Buffy asked attentively, her anxiety level began to rise. Especially when she noted the anxiousness in her Will’s indigo blue eyes.

He couldn’t believe it, but Spike’s hand shook uncontrollably as he continued to smoke his cigarette. Finally, he finished the smoke and stubbed the butt out in an ashtray on the little table next to the bed.

When he finished, Spike wrapped his left arm about his wife and placed his right arm under his blond head. He stared up at the ceiling of the room and took a deep breath, for courage.

“We’re headin’ into Apache territory, Princess,” William mumbled; his voice tinged with pain and something Buffy was unused to from him. Fear.

“Yes and…..” she stammered, her own fear was bubbling to the surface, but she bit back hard on it. Her husband did not need a wife who was going to act like a coward now.

“Like Angel says,” Spike continued cautiously as he held his bride tightly to his body, trying to offer some comfort. “Old Cochise, the chief; he isn’t so interested in the likes of us, that’s for sure. He’s more for goin’ after the US Army and mining caravans. That kind of makes us mates, you know. The Apaches and us,” Spike looked down at Buffy’s pale face and wide green eyes.

“Ethan Rayne and Ben Masters, they own a lot of interest in the mining rights out here in the Territory. Every time Cochise’s family makes a hit on the mining trust? They hit Rayne and Masters in their guts, or their pockets; depends on how you look at it.”

Buffy swallowed hard and nodded slowly, unable to break her gaze from William’s intense blue eyes. Maybe Cochise would leave them alone; maybe not. There had to be ‘some’ reason why Angel and the others chose to take their chances; closer to town.

“The rest of the way,” Spike began again, pausing only to place a quick kiss on the top of Buffy’s golden head, “we’ll be stickin’ close to the towns and settlements. It is best, really,” he added thoughtfully, his brows scrunched together.

Finally, exhausted from their love-making and talking, Spike and Buffy fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Just a few hours later...... Reality set in.

Spike and Buffy were awakened by the clatter of boots, hitting the wooden floor of the kindly farmer’s house. If that weren’t enough to wake the newlyweds; the loud, boisterous crowing and bantering of the obviously drunken members of the returning gang sealed the deal.

“Well, so much for our catching up on some much needed rest, eh?” Buffy asked Spike with a wry, wicked smirk.

“Yeah, and it sounds like my Da is leadin’ the others in the revelry,” Spike grunted in reply. His mouth was twisted into a disapproving scowl and his brows were scrunched together.

“Oh, let him have his fun,” Buffy snorted as she hopped up from the bed and pulled on her hastily discarded clothing.

“You’ve never seen Pop’s drunk,” Spike sighed, “believe me, it ain’t pretty, Princess.”

Spike slipped out of the cozy bed and dressed quickly; then followed his bride out of the bedroom door. God only knew what would greet them on the other side.

Well, what greeted Spike and Buffy wasn’t ‘too’ much of a horror, really. It was kind of how you looked at it, Spike supposed.

His father, the epitome of British gentility was standing on some makeshift soap box. The older man’s blue eyes gleamed with merriment; his ever present spectacles were no where to be seen. Rupert Giles’ usually well groomed hair was, at the moment, was a mass of tousled curls.

Mr. Giles was doing his best imitation of what Buffy assumed was a saloon entertainer; a tenor perhaps. He would have pulled it off, too, if he could have kept from stumbling off the soapbox at least ten times.

“So, that’s where you get your spikes and waves, eh?” Buffy giggled mischievously. “From dear old Dad?”

“Yeah,” Spike grumbled, a bright blush flowed up his neck and into his face. “He’s three sheets to the wind, he is,” the blond male mumbled in disapproval.

“He’s acting cute,” Buffy murmured with a light laugh. “He’s having a great time,” she purred as she tried to hold her husband back.

“He’s acting moronic,” Spike hissed back in reply. “I’m putting a stop to this nonsense right now,” he spat in embarrassment.

Spike strode over to his father and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Dad,” he began through gritted teeth, “time for you to come down from there and pull yourself together. My God, man, my bride is witnessing this ridiculous display and…..”

“It’s my boy!” Rupert exclaimed in a high pitched squeal. “And there’s his lovely little bride! Aren’t they the most beautiful couple you’ve ever seen? My grandchildren are going to be bloody gorgeous!”


Before Spike or Angel could catch him, Rupert and taken a misstep and tumbled right off the makeshift stage on onto the hardwood floor. The older Giles fell flat on his face before Spike, Buffy, Angel and the others.

“Dad!” Spike cried in horror as he bent to help his old man up off the floor.

When Spike and Angel managed to pick the man up; they checked immediately to see if he was hurt in any way. Imagine their surprise when Rupert burst out into laughter.

“Good thing I’ve lost my glasses, eh son?” Rupert asked Spike, his laughter pealed through the room. “I’d ‘ave broken the fucking things if I hadn’t…..”

“How much did he drink, Angel?” Spike mumbled to his cousin; his blue eyes were narrowed into slits.

“Too much, but then again, maybe not enough Spike,” Angel chuckled good-naturedly. “Christ, he’s the father here. Get over it and let him enjoy himself for once.”

“Let’s see how much he enjoys the bloody hangover in the morning,” Spike growled. “Come on Dad,” Spike grumbled, let’s get you to bed.”


“Your Buffy reminds me of Jenny, son,” Rupert said as his son led him off to a bedroom. “She’s a peach of girl, is Buffy,” Giles continued to ramble, even as Spike got him into the room and closed the door behind them.

“Had too much whisky, at a saloon in Tucson,” Angel stated the obvious. “Well, maybe it was more then one saloon?” Angel laughed outright and shrugged.

“Hmmm,” Buffy murmured as she eyed the closed door.

“Uncle Rupert really misses Aunt Jenny, you know?” Angel mumbled in a sorrowful voice.

“I know, Angel. The whole tragedy, back in England…it was,” Buffy’s voice trailed off and she found she could not look at her husband’s relative any longer.

“It was awful,” Angel sighed deeply in response. “The ugliness reared its head here too, Buffy,” he continued in a hushed tone. “Benjamen Masters backed the scum that burned my folks place to the ground, back home. Especially with his unending mass of wealth. He was behind a lot of ugliness that took place here, in the States, after the war.

“I know,” Buffy murmured gently.

“He’d be lost without you, you know?” Angel whispered; his dark eyes on the closed bedroom door. “Spike, he’d be lost without you, Buffy.”

“I’d be quite lost without him, Angel,” Buffy admitted quickly; her voice was low, soft and tender.


“We have to move out,” Angel barked suddenly at the few men who stood about, in various stages of drunkenness and soberness.

Spike came out of the bedroom and joined his wife and cousin. The blond gave Angel a ‘what the fuck’ look. Angel quickly cleared things up.

“The posse from Redemption,” Angel began in a nervous tone, “they’re getting’ closer daily. They ‘did’ take the red herring bait we left and headed towards Globe, just out of Phoenix. Thank God,” he grunted harshly.

“Only problem is that they’ve figured out it was a trick and now they’re back on track. In Tucson, I found out that Merrick has connections, even in Globe. He discovered that we’re headed towards Nogales and not Tombstone or New Mexico. I’m sorry Buffy,” Angel stated sincerely, “but we’ll have to leave tomorrow and ride straight through to the nearest settlement. It’s called Green Valley.”


A/N: I was going to make this a really long involved chapter. I will give away this much of the next chapter’s plot line:

Angel and Xander have some nice surprises waiting for them in Green Valley!

Thank you for reading, please review. This chapter is kind of a filler piece; not really much more. There will be some more angst in the next few chapters, but his is getting close to the end.

spuf

REDEMPTION


A/N: I just received some sad news from my mother: My sister’s beloved stepson ‘Christopher’ passed away. He was a wonderful man; kind, sensitive and caring. Chris loved his family, his partner Tony, cooking and baking and yes, All My Children. I am dedicating this chapter to Christopher; oddly enough I had already written a character named Christopher into this chapter.


Summary: The gang makes it to Green Valley where there are a couple of pleasant surprises awaiting Angel and Xander!


Chapter 26: ‘Running Out Of Time’


“I don’t like it,” Johnathan Levison muttered as he rode out to the Summers’ farm. “I don’t like this one bit,” he scowled when the main farmhouse came into view.

Johnathan was on a mission; sent by his beloved wife, Amy, to keep Mrs. Hank Summers informed about Caleb Montgomery.

Caleb had been in town just yesterday, at the Harvest Moon Saloon, complaining about the inept posse from Redemption. The posse that had headed out after the Crawford gang and of course his so-called fiancé, Buffy Summers.

Montgomery had been drinking heavily, as usual, and started talking big about going out after the gang himself. He’d even tried to muster up some willing men at the saloon to go with him.
Fortunately, the other drinkers in the bar hadn’t imbibed enough to take the foolish man up on his requests.

Now, Johnathan was in a big quandary and that was a complete understatement. Caleb Montgomery, like the Summers’ family and most of the rest of Redemption didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know that Johnathan was more closely connected to the whole situation then anyone might guess.

Amy, Johnathan’s beloved sweet little wife was related to Angel Crawford. No one, not even Johnathan’s best friends, Daniel and Willow Osbourne, knew of the family connection that Amy had to the errant outlaw gang.

While Angel and his younger brother, Connor, who was pretty unknown also, rode about robbing banks and the like? Amy had been brought to Redemption years ago; her loving family’s way of saving the young girl from the South’s post-war sorrows.

Even though Amy had moved on; made a new life for herself and all; she still had the fierce sense of Crawford pride in her. Like Wesley, Amy’s uncle, Johnathan’s wife had carved out a life for herself in Redemption, but still held onto her loyalty to the Crawford family from Alabama.

Johnathan Levison was not so much afraid of his and his darling Amy’s secret involvement in the robbery at the Redemption bank. Rather, the elfin-like Johnathan was more concerned with the loud public bravado of one Caleb Montgomery.

Amy Levison had insisted that her husband ride out to the Summers’ place and let the mistress there know what was going on with Montgomery. Johnathan knew Joyce Summers would be angry with Buffy’s ex-fiancé; in that there was no question. What worried Johnathan was that Mrs. Summers might just act on her anger and confront Caleb.

Some time ago, Johnathan Levison and his wife had come to the conclusion that Caleb Montgomery was not the man he presented himself to be. In fact, Amy always claimed that Montgomery was missing a screw or two in his twisted brain. The still mainly unknown horror that occurred at the Red Garter, with that poor whore, Harmony, seemed to prove dear Amy’s theory.

Now, Johnathan, with Amy’s encouragement, felt the need to ride out and warn Joyce Summers of Montgomery’s intent. It was just a matter of time before some fool hardy young men, or old ones for that matter, would take Caleb up on his request.

Pretty much everyone in Redemption had heard that Buffy Summers was planning to call of her engagement to Montgomery. That was just before she was taken by the Crawford gang, or more specifically, Spike Giles, Angel Crawford’s British cousin.

Apparently, Caleb Montgomery had not taken heed of Joyce’s words and the man was making a complete ass out of himself in town. First there was that awful incident at the Red Garter. Then they had heard of Montgomery’s drunken outbursts in Redemption’s other watering holes.

“That’s all Marshall Merrick and poor Hank need,” Johnathan grunted in disgust. “A loose Cannon like Caleb Montgomery and say those wild Tucker boys to take off after them and…..”

Johnathan trotted his beloved stallion, Wizard, up to the Summers’ front yard. He was not surprised when Joyce met him on the steps of her wooden front porch.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Summers,” Johnathan greeted the respected matriarch warmly. “I need a word with you,” he finished evenly.


For some reason, Buffy Summers-Giles was becoming almost fond of the Arizona Territory. There was something about the whole territory that somewhat reminded her of Nebraska, her home.

Arizona, like Nebraska, had miles of desolate, barren terrain, this was true. However, there were some areas in this foreign dessert of Arizona that were quite beautiful to Buffy.

‘When this is all over,’ Buffy mused as she rode along next to her wonderful husband. ‘When this is all over, and we’re safe? I’m going to write this all down, in my journal. I’ll have it to recite to my fat little grandchildren,’ she thought happily.

“We’ll head into Green Valley,” Rupert Giles was telling Spike and others as they rode along. “There’s some family there; albeit distant relatives, they…..” Buffy’s attention wandered from her father-in-law’s explanations.

William had told Buffy about Green Valley once before. Apparently, it was some kind of settlement; quickly thrown up no doubt. So many of these territory towns and villages had been quickly built; simply to house miners’ families and the like.

The Arizona farmers and ranchers tended to stick closer to the larger cities and towns; leaving the struggling miners certain and others to the smaller places. Buffy supposed that one day, even a small, struggling settlement such as Green Valley would become a major town in this desolate place.

“Yup,” Buffy mumbled with a half-smile as the gang trotted into Green Valley. “It’s just as I thought,” she giggled to herself.

Green Valley was a mining settlement and not much more then that; that was for sure. All up and down the ‘main’ street, there were small, ramshackle buildings; houses and such haphazardly thrown up here and there about the settlement?

Buffy spied the local parish, right off; obviously a Catholic institution. Most of the local miners and their families were ‘gringos’ or whites; but the Spanish/Mexican influence still held the sway here; culturally and religiously.

Spike helped his wife down from her horse, Buttermilk, cautiously. He loved Buffy with all of his heart and soul and wanted her to be as secure and comfortable as possible. At least as comfortable as she could be; or the rest of them could be.

That posse from Redemption would catch up with them; Spike had no doubt of that. He only hoped that they were already across the Mexican border before that happened.

God willing they could stay one step ahead of the posse because Spike knew their time was running out. He also knew that everyone else in their group must have at least suspected as much, including his beloved wife.

“It’s not much Princess,” Spike offered apologetically to Buffy. She rewarded him with her most dazzling, loving smile.

“It is fine, Will,” she replied honestly. “I’m thinking that we can get some kind of warm baths here and that alone is a blessing.”

“Cousin Rupert!” A strong male British accent greeted Spike’s father.

Buffy watched, a bit anxiously, as a tall, good looking man of about thirty hurried up to the group of outlaws. Apparently, this was the distant relative Buffy’s father-in-law had spoken of.

“Chris!” Rupert Giles called gleefully to the younger man who carried a small child; a girl, in his left arm. This Chris held, in his right hand, the hand of a woman in perhaps her early twenties.

The youngish woman was most likely Chris’ wife and the mother of the young daughter the man carried. Buffy had never seen a more beautiful child in her entire life and that was for sure. Of course, the young mother was lovely also; an exotic beauty of obvious Asian descent.

“This is my cousin’s son, Christopher Bothwell,” Rupert stammered proudly as he motioned to the young man, woman and child. “I see you’ve added some additions to the family, eh Chris?” Rupert chuckled as he eyed the trio before them.

“This is my wife, India,” Christopher pointed at the beautiful woman next to him. “Our daughter, Lily Flower,” he held the gorgeous child up for all to see. Christopher’s obvious pride in his family caused Buffy to be most vocal with her own praises.

“That girl is the most beautiful child I have ever been blessed to see,” Buffy gasped in admiration. She reached out and touched Lily’s golden cheek, gently, with her right hand. The small girl grinned at Buffy; her wide eyes surveyed this strange blond woman with child-like curiosity.

Lily was a beauty, no question. With her blue-green almond shaped eyes and long black hair, Buffy knew a future heart breaker when she saw one.

“You remember my son, William, right Chris? This is his bride, Elizabeth ‘Buffy’ Giles,” Rupert quickly introduced the couple to his cousin’s son.

“Of course, Uncle,” Chris grinned at the newlyweds happily. The young man was quite pleased that his cousin’s young bride had been so quickly enamored with his beloved daughter.

“Kit,” India interrupted the introductions in the most polite way as she tugged on her husband’s arm. “I think Angel Crawford and Xander Harris have some wonderful surprises to see at our home,” she finished with a sly smile.

“India calls me Kit,” Christopher explained with a bright red blush. “I don’t know why,” he continued, “but I like it and…..”

“Kit!” India hissed good-naturedly. “Please my husband,” she mumbled impatiently. “This way,” the lovely woman motioned to the Buffy especially as she pointed to the end of the main street.

“I met my India at quite a fancy party, in California,” Christopher Bothwell babbled on as he led the group of outlaws to his home. “She is the most amazing woman I have ever known,” he continued happily.

“Her father is quite of the old guard in San Francisco. Her mother; Lotus Flower, is said to have been a Japanese royal, kidnapped at a young age from her native Japan.” Christopher gave Buffy a roguish wink and Spike had to laugh. Suddenly, things didn’t seem so damned desperate for some reason.

“They smuggled Lotus here, to the States,” Chris continued, obviously happy to relay the whole sordid tale. “My father-in-law, old Nathan Hamhearst saw the young beauty and made a contract to marry her. India was soon born and….”

“Kit,” India sighed in exasperation, “you speak too boldly husband,” she admonished the fair young man.

“I am sorry my love,” Christopher mumbled under his breath. “I’m just so bloody proud of my little family and with another babe on the way? Who wouldn’t want to announce my joy from mesa to…..”

“You have another child coming?” Buffy asked quickly; she had taken an instant like to this odd, yet caring couple.

“At Christmas time,” India murmured proudly. “A little Christmas baby,” she finished with a wide, joyful grin.

“But now,” India continued with a giggle, “I think there is a more immediate surprise waiting, here, in our home. For Angel and his friend Xander.”

India threw open the door of the somewhat lavish wooden house and motioned the two men inside first. Buffy stumbled into the warm, cozy abode and noticed right off the two women who stood by the fireplace. A short, very pregnant blond woman and an obviously unnaturally dyed red-head stood with their backs to the gang. Both women turned and grinned at the group of men and Buffy as they entered the humble, yet tidy house.

“Darla!” Angel nearly screeched as he broke from his group and ran across the living room to his wife.

“Anya!” Xander squealed like a school boy; following soon after his friend and leader. He swept his little wife up into his big arms and hugged her tightly.

“Oh, God, baby I’ve missed you,” Angel crooned to his wife as he picked her up and hugged to her him.


“I’m huge,” Darla Crawford grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. “I’m as big as a horse,” she began to cry softly.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Angel murmured tenderly, placing his wife back onto the floor. “A beautiful, wonderful sight for sore eyes,” he gushed happily.

Buffy swore she saw a tear slip down the big man’s cheek, but her attention was soon drawn to Xander and his wife.

“Oh, honey,” Xander was babbling to the red-headed woman. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“You better have,” the attractive woman replied evenly. “Who the hell is that?” This Anya noticed Buffy and glared at her suspiciously.

“That’s Spike’s new bride, Buffy Summers-Giles,” he quickly responded. Right now, everyone was unsure of where Xander’s wife’s sour mood had come from.

“Oh,” Anya grunted, placated by her husband’s explanation. “As long as she’s not some camp whore that came along to…..”

“Anya,” Xander groaned unhappily. “Please, baby,” he continued a little more brightly, “don’t talk like that. Buffy’s a lady and Spike’s wife now. You shouldn’t…..”

“It’s fine Xander,” Buffy offered diplomatically. “Your wife is just so happy to see you that she doesn’t want anything to spoil your reunion. Right?” Buffy shot Anya a most charming smile and the other woman seemed to warm up quickly to her.

“I say we have a bit of whisky and celebrate,” Christopher blurted out tactfully. “My India has made our extra rooms ready for all of you and a marvelous supper. You must be starved,” he continued jovially.

“We’re off to Nogales, come sun up,” Rupert declared happily as he sipped his whisky. “Then its on to Mexico and freedom!”


“We’ll catch them, in Nogales,” Marshall Merrick declared to the posse he led. He especially wanted Hank Summers to know of his intentions.

“We’ll catch the whole bunch of them before they cross that damned border,” the marshal added smugly. “What do you say Summers? When we catch up to the whole nasty bunch; shall we hang them before a jury can give them a trial?”

Hank Summers cringed, briefly, but said nothing in reply to the formidable man he had followed to Arizona. Something in Hank told him that it would not be so easy; when the posse caught up with the Crawford gang and his new, disreputable son-in-law.

After all, there was true human feelings at play here and Hank was not so cold hearted that he did not fear the pain his daughter may suffer from this. It caused a deep, stark pain to stab at Hank’s heart and he was afraid that many horrible deeds just might be acted on sooner rather then later.

“Yup,” Merrick continued with a gruff chuckle, “Angel Crawford and the Giles boys are running out of time.”


A/N: I hope this chapter was well worth the wait. There was a ‘hint’ dropped in the chapter; do you know what it is?

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.

Summary: Buffy reflects on her time with Spike and the gang so far. The gang meets up with; yes, Native American Apaches and some trouble just may come of it.


Chapter 27: ‘In The End…..’


In the end, if Buffy had it all over to do again? She would have done exactly the same thing; except……

In the end, Buffy would have started her journal much sooner then she had. At least the sections that covered her journey through the wilds of Utah, Arizona and finally then finally……

‘Who would want to read it anyway?’ Buffy wondered to herself as she plodded along on Buttermilk, right next to William on his horse. Every moment or so, Will looked over at Buffy and smiled affectionately.

Oh how she wished that she had captured every moment of this arborous journey and each second that she had with her young husband. If only she had written about each and every loving glance and word of endearment that he had given her.

Instead, she would only have it in her own memory; which was fine, until she would be too old to recall every detail of that time of danger and the unknown. Memory would have to do for much of that time in 1876 when she had ridden with the Crawford Gang and her handsome, once wild young husband, William ‘Spike’ Giles.

“I like them,” Buffy mumbled softly as she rode along next to William’s huge steed, Midnight.

“Who’s that, Princess?” Spike asked casually even while he clasped the reins of Buffy’s horse.

“Darla and Anya,” Buffy giggled in response, “I like them. They’re tough but beautiful,” she murmured dreamily.

“Okay,” Spike chuckled in reply. “I’ll agree with you there, but I don’t think either of them is as tough or as beautiful as you, wife.”

Buffy smiled at her husband, benevolently. “You’d better say that,” she mumbled with a sly smirk.

Spike thought that Buffy’s smirk must resemble his own and felt a tug at his heart. She was his, his Buffy was; lock, stock and barrel. He was hers too and that’s the way God meant things to be between a husband and wife.

“Look there!” Connor Crawford exclaimed as he pointed to the nearby vistas, or mesas as Arizonians called them.

“Will! Indians!” Buffy gasped in stunned delight.

“Don’t fret, sweetling,” Spike whispered nervously as he watched the horizon and the ever growing crowd of Apaches that gathered there.

“Fret? Why would I?” Buffy asked naively. “I think they are magnificent,” she added seriously. “I….” but her sentence was cut off by Rupert Giles, her father-in-law.

“Buffy if I live to be one-hundred, you’ll never cease to amaze me,” Spike cooed with great admiration for his little wife.

“I intend of seeing that you live to at least a hundred and amazing you every day,” Buffy giggled saucily.

“I think it would be best if we skipped the obvious trail and headed a bit more to the southeast,” the wise older man proclaimed. He anxiously watched the movement on the mesa; his weary brow was scrunched in concern.

“Ah, they’re more interested in Union soldiers and miners Uncle Rupert,” Angel interjected quickly. The head Crawford didn’t look all too sure of his words however.

Buffy noticed that her husband’s cousin looked every bit as nervous as the others did. His wife, Darla, seemed quite distressed and the blond woman kept rubbing her pregnant tummy protectively.

“Don’t they fancy white women?” Anya Harris asked tactlessly. Buffy noticed that Xander’s wife fidgeted with her hat strings and frowned at the vista a few miles away.

“That’s talk, nothing more,” Xander blurted, but he looked as pensive as his wife did.

“Perhaps if we spoke with them; like British gentlemen?” Rupert inquired calmly, although he looked as if he was about to be sick.

“Well unless you know Apache, Da. I’m not sure how much progress you’ll make,” Spike snorted.

“I know some Apache,” Angel muttered under his breath.

“I bet its old Cochise himself!” Connor cried with all of the innocent glee of a young, invincible youth.

“Oh bloody great,” Spike hissed, pulling Buffy onto his own horse and leaving poor Buttermilk without her rider.

“I’m going up there,” Angel grunted, once again in full command of the situation. “I’ll offer the old boy some of our stolen gold and a polite request to pass through ‘His’ territory,” the large man offered.

“Angel, no!” Darla whimpered as she reached out to clasp the reins of her husband’s horse in her hands. “Us! Our child,” she cried desperately.

“Darla,” Angel murmured soothingly, “it’ll do no good to try and avoid Cochise or his tribe. These people are proud and at war with the United States government; much like us. I’ll go up to him; hat in hand and try to negotiate our safe passage through ‘His’ land. With respect and honor; I’ll secure our safety; I promise.”

Angel cupped his little wife’s soft cheek in his right hand and leaned in for a quick kiss. Before Darla could stop him, Angel had ridden off to the vista and his negotiation with who everyone figured to be the great man ‘Cochise’ himself.

Just before he rode off, Angel secured a nice amount of the golden profit his gang had taken from various banks and railroads along the way. He also tied the two horses poor Riley and evil Graham had left behind to the saddle of his own horse. Angel was well aware that Cochise of the Apaches was a wise, educated man. The Indian chief knew the ways of the white man and his innate love of money and riches.

To receive a payment of stolen riches from a United States’ bank would please Cochise and probably secure a safe passage for Angel’s gang and their women. Angel would offer the gold in return for safe travel through Apache land; something most men did not think to ask for.

It was a matter of respect, you see, where Cochise and his tribe of proud people were concerned. So little of the still fledgling nation that was the United States ever seemed to ‘get’ that.

However, Angel Crawford seemed to ‘get’ just that and he rode off to talk over some agreeable terms with mighty Cochise himself.

No one was more amazed then Rupert Giles when his nephew by marriage returned an hour or two later. Minus the two horses and the gold of course.

Angel seemed pretty winded by his hasty ride back to his loved ones. He rode hell bent for leather into the slap shod encampment and tossed his little brother, Connor, the reins to his horse.

“Give him water and food,” he ordered the anxious boy with great authority.

“What did he say?” Spike asked carefully; speaking of the man whom they all knew must be Cochise himself.

“It’s him all right,” Angel blurted in a giddy childish manner; almost as if he was pleased as punch to meet the formidable chief of the Apaches.

“Are they going to let us go through?” Darla asked nervously, still clutching her swollen tummy protectively.

“Yes, they are,” Angel grunted quickly as he took a swig of the whisky bottle Spike had handed him.

Between sips of the comforting liquor and hasty breaths, Angel filled the group in on what had transpired up on the vista. Between Cochise of the Apaches and himself, a simple ex-farmer from Alabama.

“First thing he mentioned was our women,” Angel muttered just before he took another swig of whisky.

“What?” Xander squeaked like a female in shock.

“Our women,” Angel repeated impatiently. “Cochise used the word ‘isdzan’ and I do know what that means believe it or not,” he snorted ruefully.

“Why would the old man use a word like that?” Anya asked suspiciously.

“Apparently the Apache party has been following us for miles,” Angel shrugged non-chalanty; a move that was not lost on Spike or Buffy.

“He mentioned the isdzan with the litsog bitsizil…like the chigonaai,” he mumbled quietly. His gaze fell upon Buffy who shivered in apprehension at the meaning of these foreign words.

“Woman with the yellow hair like the sun,” Angel explained warily. “Don’t worry Buffy, Spike,” he offered carefully, “I told Cochise that Buffy here is married.”

“The old chief actually grunted ‘mores the pity’ when I told him Buffy here was married to my cousin,” Angel added with a wink at Spike. “Said he’d never seen a more ‘denzhone’ woman in his entire life and that she’d make a good addition to his tribe!”

Buffy clung to Spike who wrapped his arms even tighter about his little wife.

“Then the old man asked about Anya there,” Angel chuckled wickedly. “Said she looked like a hardy brood mare and….”

“Angel!” Xander and Anya gasped in unison.

“Oh for God’s sake I told him that Anya was taken too. Consider it a compliment,” Angel added mischievously. “Cochise speaks some English and he assured me that two great beauties such as Buffy and Anya here would make great treasures as wives for his sons!”

“Well!” Darla hmphed in exasperation. “I guess he didn’t think I was worth a look eh?”

“It’s not that,” Angel laughed outright, “Cochise saw your obvious condition and respected it. Congratulated me on our forthcoming child!”

“Hmmm,” Darla snorted when Angel pulled her onto his lap and cuddled her lovingly. She was soon giggling in relief along with the others however.

“Cochise made do with my offer of Union gold and the two horses,” Angel explained. “I guess he’s pretty savvy with present day news and has actually heard of us. Respects us in his way,” he sighed with a shake of his dark head.

“Cochise is no fool,” Rupert Giles interjected. “He’s an educated man; far more so then most of the whites around here and elsewhere. His people come first and foremost with him and he would respect anyone that bucks the system of this country like we have. We’re kindred actually,” he added with just a tad bit of skeptics.

“There’s more,” Angel muttered softly. The group about him fell silent and listened to what the natural born lead had to say.

“Cochise’s scouts told him and he told me of a group of white men. They’re riding fast and hard and have nearly caught up to us,” Angel said evenly. “It’s the posse from Redemption of course,” he finished with a frown.

“The Apaches won’t mess with them,” Angel warned his comrades. “They’re more interested in causing havoc with the white soldiers and all; not mere law men and their prey.”

“Oh, Will,” Buffy whispered harshly, burying her face into her husband’s comforting chest. She did not see the worried look on William’s face as he tried to soothe her with a gentle stroke to her bare arms.

“I can’t wait to get to Nogales and across the border,” Anya spat evenly. “When we get there, Xand, do you think I can get pregnant and…..”

“Anya honey,” Xander began woefully, “you need to curb your tongue baby. Everybody doesn’t want to hear about our personal plans, okay?”

“We’d best move on out,” Angel commanded. “Darla, I want you to ride in front of me, on my horse,” he told her authoritively. “We’ll tie yours to Uncle Rupert’s,” he finished with a shrug.

“Do you think we can make Nogales before Dad and the others catch up with us Will?” Buffy asked nervously as she watched Darla slip onto Angel’s horse.

“We will, baby,” Spike mumbled in his best secure tone. “We’ll get over the border if I have to drag you and the rest by myself.”


A/N: Okay, short but I hope sweet.

I wanted to add a short snippet of Cochise and the Apache Tribe to the story because they were so prevalent around this area at this time. These proud people would not go quietly to the reservations that the soldiers tried to send them to.

I lived in the nearby area where this chapter took place and I learned quite a bit of history about it while there. Cochise took his people, after a while, up to the mountains near the Huachucas and holed up there. This mountainous fortress is called ‘Cochise’s Stronghold’ and is quite popular as a tourist attraction.

Cochise probably would have succeeded in holding out against the soldiers, except that a young Apache child, about four or so I believe, died of starvation while under siege.

Cochise surrendered to the soldiers but remained a spokesperson for his tribe from then on. Eventually, he ‘retired’ from his post as protector of the Apache and lived out his life in peace.

I like to write historical fact and fiction into my stories because I am a history buff. I want to spark an interest in American history to all readers and I hope to have succeeded!

Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION

Summary: Our couple is finally in Nogales, Arizona. However, things are coming to a head and the posse is…..well, please just read and find out.


Chapter 28: ‘Border Town’


They had finally made it to the outskirts of Nogales Arizona; just a few hundred yards to the border and freedom. Buffy often wondered, later, why they had hesitated, any of them, to make a mad dash for the invisible line that separated the United States and Mexico.

It would prove to be a life altering experience for everyone involved in this little drama. Spike and Buffy would certainly never forget it.

“I think we should stick around here for a while,” Buffy heard Anya Harris whine from the corner of the room. “I don’t see why we….”

“Oh come on Anya,” Holden chuckled gleefully, “I can’t wait any longer to get across that border and find myself a pretty little local girl. They’re real beauties down there, I’ve heard,” Holden continued without a thought to Anya’s sensitive nature.

“That’s just what bothers me,” Anya huffed as she shot Holden an angry look. When Connor near giggled, Anya glared at the boy with daggers in her dark eyes.

Buffy didn’t understand why Anya was so jealous or insecure all of the time. In the short time she had known the tempestuous woman; Buffy had seen her jealousy flare up a number of times. It seemed odd to Buffy; especially since it was so obvious that Xander loved his wife dearly.

“Ignore them,” Buffy gently ordered her traveling companion. “They’re single men; lonely and miserable without the love of good women like us,” she added with a wry smile.

Anya seemed appeased for a moment so Buffy took the opportunity to fetch herself and the other woman a cup of water. It was incredibly hot in Nogales, Arizona and Buffy too wondered why they dallied there. Why not head over the border and to assured freedom while they had the chance.

“I’m thinkin’ we should head over the border as soon as possible,” Angel muttered as he took the offered water from Buffy. The tall, dark haired man made a bee line to his wife, Darla.

Darla hadn’t done so well in the last two days and it was beginning to show. The pregnant woman look haggard and drained of energy; her lovely blue eyes were dull and lifeless.

“It’s too damned hot and dry,” Buffy grumbled while she retrieved some water for herself. “Darla ‘should’ rest,” she vocalized with determination, joining her husband’s cousin’s weary wife.

“I know,” Angel sighed heavily. “But we’ve got to get over that damned border,” he continued defensively. “That posse is too damn close and…..”

“Angel Crawford,” a stern, booming voice was heard from outside the building the gang inhabited.

“This is Marshal Merrick of the Lincoln, Nebraska Legal Association. You are hereby ordered to surrender to this deputized posse; you, your associates and any ‘hostages’ that you may have in your possession!”

“Oh my God, Angel!” Darla gasped in fear as she clutched her heaving tummy.

“Darla!” Buffy cried, protectively wrapping her slim arms about the pregnant woman.

“Angel! Rupert! Anya! Help!” Buffy screeched desperately while Darla fainted in her arms.

“Fuck!” Angel exclaimed, rather summing up everyones’ feelings in the small building.

“Get to the windows; arms drawn,” Spike ordered the rest of the men as he motioned his cousin to see to Darla.

“Buffy, get in the back room. Take Anya with you,” Spike commanded his own wife.

Buffy literally handed Darla to Angel and stood tall; well as tall as a short woman like her could.

“I’ll do no such thing,” Buffy spat defiantly. “I’m staying out here, with you and…..”

“Do as I say,” Spike repeated through clenched teeth. “This is no place for women.”

“Oh, and I suppose the only place for women in laying prone, in a bed or…..” Buffy was cut off immediately by her father-in-law.

“Please Buffy,” Rupert pleaded quietly, “do as William says. Go into the other room, close the door and stay put. For me if not for yourself?”

Buffy stared at her father-in-law and saw the serious, worried look in his blue eyes.

“Come on Anya,” Buffy whispered in defeat. She took Xander’s wife by the arm and headed into the little room in the back of the building.

Buffy gazed at her husband, longingly, just as he gazed back at her in return. She reluctantly headed into the back room, hoping against hope that things would turn out for the good.

Angel and Darla had already moved into the smaller back room and Buffy feared that the excitement might bring on a premature birth of their child. One thing was for sure; Buffy was more then certain that there would be bloodshed this day.

She could only hope that it would not be her beloved husband’s bloodshed.

“Oh, God, Buffy,” Angel whispered in horror. “I think Darla is going to have this baby and it’s way too soon. She….”

Buffy looked at Angel’s terrified ashen face and became physically ill herself. It was true, Darla did look as if she was going to have the baby, and soon.

All of her years on the farm had made Buffy fully aware of the the cycle of life. Sometimes it went off without a hitch and sometimes there were snags in the normal way of things.

Buffy was sure that if Darla gave birth now, then it would be a catastrophe. She knew that Angel’s wife was in no way close to her time and even in the best of circumstances, Darla would most likely lose the poor little baby.

“We have to do something,” Angel whimpered as he tenderly stroked his wife’s clammy brow. “Buffy, what can we do?”

Angel looked to his cousin’s wife, anxiously, his dark eyes filled with terror.

Buffy took a deep breath and nodded her golden head slowly, “we will help her,” she assured Angel. “We’ll do everything we can,” she added with determination as she again grabbed Anya’s arm.

“Go find some pans; there has to be some kind of pots and pans,” Buffy mumbled as she pushed Anya back out the room’s door. “Heat some water and…..”

“But the posse? The….” Anya whined, eyeing the door nervously. “What if they start shooting and all? My Xander? Me? Buffy, I don’t want to…..”

“Go!” Buffy growled at the trembling woman. “Go now,” she ordered again, less viciously this time.

“Okay,” Anya replied in a little girl’s voice.

After Anya and scurried out of the room, Buffy hurried to Darla’s side and efficiently lifted the woman’s dress and petticoats up.

“Do you feel like the baby’s trying to come,” she asked the frightened prone woman.

“No, not really,” Darla whispered, her lips white with terror. “It just hurts for some reason and I don’t know much about babies. There was a girl, where I worked before Angel and she got in the way but our employer? She knew a way to….”

Darla looked at her husband with shame. Angel, for his part took his wife in his arms and held her tightly.

“I love you,” Angel murmured to Darla lovingly. Then he looked at Buffy, silently pleading for help.

“Don’t worry,” Buffy grunted, patting Darla’s damp arm. “If this little tyke insists on coming into this world now? We’ll make sure he or she comes in right and proper.”


A/N: I made this short on purpose. First off, I wanted to get another chapter in before my vacation. Also, I’ve changed the plotline somewhat and need to do some research to finish it.

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Chapter 29: ‘Meetings’


Summary: Buffy desperately tries to help Darla deliver her and Angel’s child. Spike finally meets Hank, Buffy’s father. Will things turn out happy for all of our anti-heros?


A/N: Long time, no update. I’ve had a real writer’s block with this one and I decided to split up the last few chapters. I hope you will read this chapter and keep with the story; I promise a real bang up ending!


“Angel!” Buffy nearly screamed again. “Look at me,” she commanded harshly.

In desperation, Buffy had to snap her slim fingers in front of the large man’s face to try and break him from his daze. She was near the end of sanity herself actually; Buffy was, especially since Darla appeared to be in labor. Much too soon, of course, for the babe to be healthy; or so Buffy feared.

“How far along is she?” Buffy asked Angel again, much more impatiently then earlier.

“I,” Angel stammered with a total lack of assuredness, causing Buffy to become even more abrupt with the big man.

“Anya,” Buffy snapped as she turned her attention to the other woman in the tiny room. “You’re as close to Darla as anyone; how far?”

Anya stood, somewhat shell shocked as it were and just stared at Buffy, then Angel, with those big brown eyes of hers. Xander’s wife looked beyond scared; she looked terrified.

“Anya, how far along is Darla?” Buffy rasped as she gazed at the little blond woman who was now prone on a makeshift bed.

“About seven months or a little more,” Anya stuttered; her voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” Buffy sighed heavily, “let’s just pray it’s a girl child,” she muttered.

“Why?” Angel grunted in question to his cousin’s wife.

“Females of the all species seem to do better,” Buffy mumbled quietly. “When they come early; it’s the females that fare better. It’s the lungs,” she whispered, her focus on Darla. “Maybe it's so the woman can scream at her mate the loudest during arguments,” Buffy chuckled mirthlessly.

“Angel,” Buffy began cautiously, her back still turned to Crawford. “Go fetch Spike and send him in here,” she ordered evenly.

“But,” Angel began as he took a step towards his wife’s bed.

“Go,” Buffy spat impatiently. “Send my husband to me; I need to talk with him.”

Angel stumbled off to find his cousin and Buffy turned her attention back to Anya.

“I cannot save both of them,” Buffy stated simply, trying to keep the terror from her voice.

Anya stared at the little blond woman, her brown eyes filled with horror.

“You’ve got to,” Anya hissed desperately as she took her place next to Darla’s bed. “Buffy, you’ve got to save Darla, if not the baby and…..”

“I know,” Buffy whispered sadly. “But I cannot, I know ‘that’ too,” she finished in a defeated tone.


“The baby,” Buffy choked out, “he’s coming out wrong,” she continued with a shake of her blond head. “I’ve seen this, on the farm, with horses and such. Even if the baby survives; the mother usually bleeds to…..” Buffy halted her explanation and peered carefully at Anya.

It was at that moment that Buffy heard her husband’s welcome voice: “Buffy, princess, it’s your dad. He’s with the posse and some Marshal Merrick. He wants to come in and speak with you, sweetling. I…..”

Buffy gazed at Darla, then Angel and then her husband, William Giles. She made a quick, guestimation in her own mind. Somehow, the young bride knew exactly what had to happen.

“There ‘might’ be a way to save them both,” Buffy murmured under her breath. She no longer looked at anyone else in the room; her gaze rested solely on Darla, who turned and twisted on the bed in agony.

“Angel! God dammit! Save us!” Darla screamed in pain as she continued to turn and twist on the sad little cot.

“I, I can’t,” Angel rasped more to himself then his wife. The dark-haired man turned his pleading gaze to Buffy and Spike.

“Can’t you help her?” Angel whimpered as he took Darla’s hand in his once again.

“I’m not sure,” Buffy stammered, melting into William’s strong arms. “Maybe the baby, or Darla but…..”

“Buffy! My baby! It’s coming, right now!” Darla yelped in severe pain.

Buffy ran back to Darla’s side; dragging Spike with her. She clasped the suffering woman by the shoulders and cried… “You’re going to need to get on your knees Darla. Can you do that? If Angel holds you up? Can you move to your knees? It’ll help the baby come out easier honey and…” Buffy tried to explain when both Darla and Angel gasped in horror at her suggestion.

“It will, I know that much,” Buffy offered meekly. “I can’t promise you anything Darla,” she whispered into the shaking older woman’s ear. “Only that it might make it a little easier birth if you do it.”

Angel grasped his wife around her shoulders as tenderly as he could and lifted her to her knees. Spike looked at Buffy, nervously, relieved when his wife nodded for him to leave.

“Let my dad come in,” Buffy called to her husband’s back as he left the room. “Daddy will be able to talk some sense into that posse if anyone can, but I’ll need to see him first,” she muttered more to herself then anyone else.

“Bear down, Darla,” Buffy grunted the command to the hunched, hurting woman. Buffy had her hands underneath Darla, positioned just below the female apex where her thighs met.

‘She’s nearly as petite as me,’ Buffy thought nervously eyeing the suffering woman. ‘Oh God, help us, please,’ she pleaded silently as she anxiously watched the baby’s head peep out from Darla’s vagina. The hair on the child appeared to be as dark as his fathers.

‘Let it be a girl child, please,’ Buffy prayed silently. ‘The little thing will have a better chance and…..’


Spike somberly watched the man who was his father-in-law, Hank Summers, as he slowly entered the old building. He recognized Buffy’s father from the church social that seemed so long ago now.

Hank’s dark eyes fell upon Spike, apparently immediately recognizing his new son-in-law from some sort of description. The older man hurried towards Spike, a concerned look in his eyes and frown on his mouth.

“Where’s Buffy? Where’s my little girl?” Hank asked in a tight voice.

“She’s in the other room,” Spike whispered in reply, his blue eyes focused on the closed door across the room.

Spike’s old insecurities reared their ugly head, right at that precise moment.

‘What if my Buffy decides to go home, back to Redemption with her father? What if…..” his anxious thoughts caused him to frown momentarily.

“I’m William Giles, Buffy’s husband,” Spike stated evenly as he reached out to shake his father-in-law’s large hand.

Spike was mildly surprised when Hank reached out and took his hand in his own and shook it heartily.

“Buffy?” Hank mumbled, nervously eyeing the other rough looking men that surrounded him and this William Giles.

“She’s with my cousin, Angel Crawford,” Spike began cautiously. “Angel’s wife is having a baby and…..”

The loud, irritated cry of a newborn child interrupted Spike’s explanation.


A/N: Okay, I really, really tried to make this chapter the second to the last one of this story. I just couldn’t; not yet. There will have to be consequences for everyones’ previous actions and it’s going to take a few more chapters to finish this up!

I did feel the need to continue this story and connect the ‘dots’ as it were. Angel will make a very, very big sacrifice in the next chapter and we will find out what happens to all of the gang. Hank will play a very important part in the outcome of our couples’ story.

Thank you for reading and please review, spufette.

Summary: Angel and Darla’s child is born. What will happen to her and the rest of the characters?


Chapter 30: ‘New Life/New Beginnings’


“Oh Jesus,” Hank Summers gasped in disbelief, “is that a newborn’s cry?”

Buffy’s father stared at the closed door between himself and what he figured was where his missing daughter was.

“Well, yeah,” Spike chuckled, anxiously eyeing the door himself.

“Tis Angel, my cousin and his wife Darla. Buffy’s helpin’ with the babe being born and….,” Spike faltered when he saw the horrified look in his father-in-law’s dark eyes.

“Seems the little one came a bit early and all,” he continued, his discomfort was apparent. “I’d figure you’d know about babies Mr. Summers,” Spike mumbled half-heartedly, his blond head bowed in respect. “Havin’ three yourself and…..”

Hank Summers was a practical man, in most ways that is. He was the salt of God’s green earth and loved his wife and children above all else; after God himself of course.

The Summers elder also considered himself a man of worldly knowledge and such. However, he had never considered something so very basic; not since his oldest child had been stolen away from him, his wife and their home.

‘These men,’ Hank thought to himself in amazement, “they’re just like all men, at heart. They have wives, lovers and sweethearts; children maybe? They are men like me; with ties and obligations,’ he realized, finally.


“It’s a beautiful baby girl!” Buffy squealed in delight as she held the newborn child out to Angel.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Angel whined nervously, backing away just a bit from Buffy and his child.

Angel turned to look at his wife, Darla, who was horribly still on the makeshift birthing bed.

“Darla,” Angel whispered harshly before he joined her by the side of the bed.

“I, I’m okay Angel,” Darla whimpered, but Buffy could tell that the older was woman was anything but okay.

‘She’s lost way too much blood,’ Buffy thought fearfully. She held the precious new little baby to her body, tightly, and watched what transpired between husband and wife.

“You’re not okay,” Angel murmured huskily, taking Darla into his big arms. “You need help baby,” he stated the obvious.

“She does,” Buffy interjected, feeling rather intrusive at this sensitive moment between the couple.

“Your wife needs help, Angel,” Buffy repeated numbly, even as the child in her arms cried for her mother.

“My baby,” Darla whispered longingly, her arms stretched out for the child. The pain in the Darla’s voice belied her brave front she was putting on for Angel and Buffy.

“Here sweetie,” Buffy murmured, hurrying over to hand the lovely dark-haired/dark-eyed girl baby to her mother.

Buffy gently placed the beautiful child into her mother’s waiting arms.

“Oh, oh my dear little Angela,” Darla murmured lovingly and weakly just before she passed out.

Angel clasped his wife to his body in terror as Buffy swept little Angela into her arms.

“Listen to me Angel,” Buffy ordered the big lumbering man. “I’ve a plan and you need to hear it out and accept it or not. I shall warn you,” she added carefully. “This will not be easy for you or your wife, but…..”

Buffy went on to explain her plan to Angel, quickly of course since his wife’s health needed expediency in the matter.

“Stay here,” Buffy commanded her husband’s cousin sternly. “I’m taking Angela out into the other room with me. I have a plan Angel and you need to be strong about this. My father, he’s a good man and…..”

Buffy looked longingly towards the closed door and then back at the huge man who tenderly stroked his unconscious wife’s head.

“Do you want Darla to be alright? To get the medical help she needs?” Buffy asked, carefully tucking the swaddling cloth about Angela’s little body.

“Yes, of course,” Angel stammered, bravely trying to hide the tears in his dark eyes.

“Then I’ll go talk to Papa, right now,” Buffy mumbled in reply. “He’ll help you Angel. You and Darla and your child; and the rest of us in the process.”

She hurried out of the small room, only sparing one glance back at the unconscious woman on the bed. Angel watched Buffy leave, carrying his and Darla’s precious little girl.

Buffy would always remember the terrified look in Angel’s dark eyes. That and the way he used them to silently plead with her to help his wife and daughter.


“Papa?” Buffy whimpered from the doorway before she threw herself into Hank Summers’ arms.

“My baby girl,” Hank murmured happily as he embraced his oldest child to him. The elder man tried carefully not to crush the infant in his daughter’s arms.

“We…..” he began, but was cut off immediately by Buffy herself.

“I need your help,” Buffy whispered desperately into her father’s ear.

“I, we need you,” she repeated, cautiously looking into her father’s deep brown, soulful eyes.

“What…..what do you need?” Hank asked his eldest and favored child.

Buffy took a deep breath and gazed into the eyes of the man she had worshipped for seventeen years.

“Daddy,” she began carefully, “I need a favor. I need you now Daddy, more then ever. My husband,” Buffy began, taking Will’s hand in hers. “His cousin is Angel Crawford and this child,” she continued as she held Angela Crawford out to her father.

“Her mother,” Buffy choked out, the emotion overwhelming her for a moment. “Darla is her name and she is in mortal danger Papa.”

“What do you want me to do?” Hank asked, much like a confused child. His own dark eyes surveyed the newborn girl carefully.

“I need you to take Darla into your charge Daddy,” Buffy explained, her hand entwined with her husband’s, Williams.

“I, well we trust you,” Buffy continued before she placed a tender kiss on Angela’s warm little head.

Hank looked at Buffy, then at Spike with confusion.

“How can I take Darla Crawford into my care when…..”

Angel took that opportune time to enter the front room of the building.

“Because I’m giving myself up,” Angel stated evenly as he handed his guns over to Hank Summers.

“I, I don’t understand,” Hank stuttered.

“I’ve talked Angel here into giving himself up,” Buffy admitted shyly. “To help his wife; himself and yes, all of us,” she finished coolly.


There’s a time in a man’s life, Hank Summers realized, that he had to listen to his children; no matter how hard that might be.

He had always been a practical man, Hank had, and he considered himself a progressive man of sorts.

Right now, his oldest daughter, Buffy, was asking for his help and since he loved Buffy and Buffy loved this Spike and his family…well.

“I, I don’t know Buffy dear,” Hank stammered unsurely. “It’s all well and good for Angel here to turn himself in but Marshall Merrick seems to be out for blood. I’m not sure that the marshal will be satisfied with just one member of the Crawford gang. Even if it’s the ring leader.”

Hank gave his daughter a pointed look and then glared at Spike and Angel, respectively.

“It was Graham that murdered Uncle Richard,” Buffy blurted. “He was an evil man, Graham was,” she added with a shiver of hatred.

“He’s dead, Daddy,” Buffy continued evenly, “Graham that is,” she finished sourly. “He…..”

“Is dead,” Spike confirmed with a nod of his blond head. “Dead and buried back by a ranch up close to the Utah border. Unfortunately so is Riley Finn; one of the best blokes I’ll ever have the pleasure to know. It was Finn that rescued my Buffy here and…..”

“Okay,” Hank interrupted gruffly. “I’ll see what I can do with Merrick and the others,” he continued carefully, “but I can’t make promises,” he finished with a shrug.

“Now, if Buffy was to agree to go home with me and….” Hank offered without hesitation.

“No!” Buffy and Spike roared in unison.

“No way,” Spike grunted defiantly.

“Never,” Buffy chimed in as she felt her husband tighten his grip on her arm.

“Daddy,” Buffy began again, less abrasive this time, “I ‘am’ home now,” she declared wistfully.

“Home is here, with my William,” she looked up lovingly at her husband and Hank knew that they had lost their beloved Buffy forever. At least in some sense of the word.

Spike grinned down at his beautiful bride and beamed with pride at her.

Hank watched the interaction between his daughter and his newly found son-in-law. He realized, finally, that this was it for Buffy, his Buffy; his sweet dear little girl.

However…..she wasn’t so little anymore and apparently, she was not ‘his’ anymore either. Buffy belonged with Spike and he with her and that was that.

“Okay,” Hank sighed wearily. “I’ll do what I have to do to help Angel here and his wife,” he added evenly. “I can try to cause a decoy; keep the posse from coming in here or…..”

“Thanks Daddy,” Buffy squeaked as she embraced her father fiercely.

“Your mother is going to kill me you know,” Hank sighed again in resignation. “For not bringing you home with me,” he finished with a kind of manly sob.

“No she won’t Daddy,” Buffy whispered into her father’s ear; standing full on her tippy- toes. “Mama will understand, believe me,” she added with a giggle.

“What about Montgomery?” Hank asked cautiously as he eyed his son-in-law warily.

“Tell that monster that he is an incredible…..” Buffy began with hesitation.

“That’s he’s a bloody prat and you’re kicking him to the pig’s trough,” Spike offered hopefully.

“What my husband said,” Buffy giggled with a sly wink at her husband.

“Gladly,” Hank grunted in self-satisfaction. “That’s the most pleasant chore I’ll have in a lifetime!”

Hank let go of his daughter and gazed at the newborn girl that his son-in-law now held.

“What about this little beauty, though?” The older Summers asked softly. The moment he had looked into Angela Crawford’s deep brown eyes, he was hooked.

“Angel wants William and I to look after little Angela here,” Buffy whispered as she took the small baby from her husband’s arms.

“Oh,” Hank mumbled wistfully as he gently tweaked Angela’s tender little pale cheek.

“We thought…” Buffy began, but she hesitated when she saw the tender look in her father’s dark eyes.

“Well, we thought that Angela here could be raised; with our children,” Buffy murmured softly, her hand covered her own tummy protectively.

“You’re….” Hank began, then choked up; too overcome with emotion to continue.

“Yes,” Buffy favored her husband and father with a most feminine smile. “You’re going to be a grandfather, Papa,” she sighed happily.

Hank noticed the way Spike Giles clasped his daughter’s arm; possessively and protectively.

“A life in Mexico,” Hank began carefully then continued evenly. “It’ll be rough, honey,” he pointed out to Buffy. “I wonder if maybe the little girl should be here, around her mother and father, with someone you can trust. You know, when her momma wakes up and….” Hank gazed at his daughter hopefully.

“Angel?” Buffy turned to her husband’s cousin and gave him a raised brow. “I have to agree with my father. When Darla wakes up, she’ll want her daughter close by, right?”

“Right,” Angel muttered under his breath as he lovingly gazed at his newborn child.


A/N: I wrote myself into a corner with this story and I hope this is a fix for it.

In the next chapter and epilogue, we will find out what happened to most of the characters in this story.

I guarantee that Spike and Buffy will make it to Mexico and then to ‘who knows’? Maybe a small town in California?

I will say this much: Hank will keep his word and help the remaining members of the gang at least get across the border to Mexico. His plan will work and only Angel and Darla will be left behind to pay the price for the gang’s ill gotten gains.

The baby, Angela, will have a good family, don’t worry; the question is will it be Angel and Darla or the Hank Summers’ family?

What will happen to Caleb and the others? Will Connor Crawford ever meet Dawn Summers?

Please don’t worry; Spike and Buffy will have a long, long future together and be the patriarch and matriarch of a whole new generation of Summers-Giles.

Please read and review. Thank you, spufette.

REDEMPTION


Summary: We find out what happens to our couple and their extended family.

Warning: Angst; not all of the characters have happy endings. There is character death in this chapter, however, there is a poetic justice for a nasty character.




Chapter 31: ‘Redemption Redux’


Hank Summers stared out the rather small window as the locomotive chugged into the station in Redemption.

Being a practical, yet sentimental man, Hank knew he should be thrilled to be finally arriving in his hometown. He would be back with his family, albeit without his oldest child, Buffy.

In his arms, Hank held some precious cargo. A beautiful baby girl , Angela Crawford to be exact. Just as the sun rose every morning, Hank knew his wife, Joyce, would take to this child as if she was her own. Even though the little baby was no blood kin to he or Joyce; even if her eyes were black as coal like her daddy’s. At least that’s how Hank remembered Angel Crawford’s dark eyes, just before……

The poor little babe, who now slept peacefully in Hank’s arms, did not know of how much sorrow her little life already held. Angela was the newborn daughter of Angel and Darla Crawford that was true enough.

Also true enough was the fact that Darla had died shortly after giving birth to this precious baby. Then, rather unjustly Hank felt; the outraged folks of Nogales, led by Marshall Merrick, hung Angel Crawford. Crawford’s trial had lasted less then an hour.

Buffy had begged Hank to take on Angela, just in case. Well, Buffy had been correct in being concerned about the just in case and so here they were; Angela and Hank. Back here in Redemption, Nebraska where the rest of Hank’s family waited for his return.

He had wired his wife, Hank had, to tell her of what had transpired in Nogales. If Joyce disagreed with her husband, or felt he should not bring the poor little orphaned baby to her? She made no mention of it at all.

Instead Joyce Summers waited at the train station in Redemption; loyally and patiently. Their natural born children, Dawnie and little Hank by her side. The Summers’ family would be there just outside the station building, Hank had no doubt. They would wait patiently for Hank to return to them; sans Buffy, but with a truly new addition to the Summers’ family.

Hank was not a particularly educated man by any modern standards. However, he was a well read man; the classics such as Shakespeare and Bacon under his belt. He was well aware of tragic irony; poetic or otherwise. It was Hank’s strength in life; and his burden also.

When Hank saw his lovely wife, waiting for him so patiently just in the train station’s door…..

“Oh Hank,” Joyce gushed happily as she hugged her husband and made over the darling baby in his arms. “She’s a beautiful little princess!”

“Well I don’t know what kind of princess she is,” Hank stammered in reply. “She is a beauty though.”

“Can I hold her Papa?” Dawn squealed in delight, holding out her long arms.

“Of course you can,” Hank murmured in an unusually soft voice, for him anyway. “Little Angela here is your new baby sister,” he whispered as he handed over the squirming little bundle to his youngest daughter.

“Little Angela is pretty, Papa,” little Hank observed reverently.

“You’ll need to watch over your new little sister, Jr.” Hank Sr. advised somberly. “She’ll be needin’ you to keep an eye on her and make sure the young men don’t push her when she‘s all grown up. You know what I mean, right?”

“I do,” Hank Jr. replied seriously, his little chest all puffed up and proud.

“God, I’ve missed you all,” Hank Sr. rasped as he broke down, overcome with emotion and began to weep for joy.

Hank sat on his front porch; the one he’d constructed so carefully years before. He was sitting, a mug of beer in his left hand, his rifle in his left.

Joyce had put the little baby Angela down over an hour ago. She had set up Dawn’s little crib in the master bedroom, next to their bed. Angela would stay there, in Hank and Joyce’s own room until the little dear adjusted to her new home. It was the least they could do to help the baby acclimate to her new life.

Dawn and little Hank had gone on to bed also; only Joyce and Hank remained awake at this late hour. Although, for now, Hank sat in his chair on the porch, all alone for now…..

In his very soul, Hank knew he would have company sometime this night. That was exactly why he sipped his welcome beer and held his trusty rifle over his lap.

Sure enough, sometime after 9:00 PM, Caleb Montgomery came riding up the dusty road to the Summers’ front porch.

Hank was ready for the sure to be angry younger man and when he saw Montgomery’s familiar figure, he sat down his mug and raised the rifle. Joyce had informed her husband, immediately, of what the monster had done to that poor doomed whore in Devereaux’s brothel.

‘There for the grace of God. It could have been our Buffy,’ Hank sighed to himself.

He would have to nip Caleb’s wrath in the bud and do it tonight, Hank would. He could only hope that the advice he was going to give the Caleb would take hold. Hank did not want any violence, especially in front of his own home.

“Montgomery,” Hank grunted in greeting, standing up to his full 6’ height.

“Hank,” Caleb replied simply in his gruff manner.

“Where’s Elizabeth?” Caleb asked quickly, though the man certainly must have heard the news by now.

“Somewhere in Mexico I suspect,” Hank answered as casually as he could muster.

“With her husband, William Giles that is,” Hank added smugly. He just couldn’t help himself for the abrupt, sarcastic reply to this monster of a man.

“Do you mean to tell me that it’s true!” Caleb nearly screeched in shock. “How could you leave Elizabeth with that scoundrel, Hank? I mean, she was promised to me and…..”

“I don’t believe William Giles is near as much a scoundrel as you are Montgomery,” Hank stated evenly.

Summers’ dark eyes were filled with disgust as he surveyed the younger, larger man in front of him.

“Hank, I can’t believe that….” Caleb began again, but Hank cut him off immediately.

“Believe what you will, Caleb,” he snorted, “my Buffy is married, good and legal to William Giles and I for one am glad of it!”

“My wife informed me of the horror you visited on that poor girl at Devereuax’s,” Hank hissed at the younger man. “And while we’re on that subject,” he continued with venom.

“Harmony was a paid and bought whore, nothing more then that,” Caleb interjected gruffly. “Who gives a damn what happens to a whore, Hank? Oh, wait, that’s what your daughter is now, ain’t it? So, I guess you give a….”

Hank Summers raised his rifle and fired two warning shots above Montgomery’s fool head.

“I missed on purpose that time Montgomery,” Hank roared angrily at the shocked man before him. “Next time I won’t miss on purpose or otherwise,” he finished with a growl.

“Hank,” Caleb stammered, somewhat disoriented by the whole drama unfolding in front of his eyes.

“You can call me Mr. Summers, Montgomery,” Hank grumbled in reply as he leveled his shot gun right at Caleb’s gut.

“But I think you should forego calling me anything at all, Caleb. Me or anyone else in Redemption or the territory about here. In fact,” Hank continued evenly, “I think you should move on completely; out of Redemption and maybe even Nebraska,” he finished with a snort disgust.

“Leave my home?” Caleb asked in shock, his dark eyes wide with horror at the mere thought of leaving his beloved Nebraska.

“Yup,” Hank replied simply. “The truth is, Montgomery, you’re all finished around here. The good folks of Redemption know exactly what kind of monster you truly are, at least by now they do.”

“Hank, I….” Caleb sputtered, but was cut off once again by the older man.

“Johnathan Levy Daniel Osbourne have already made it quite clear that they’ll assist me in running your worthless hide out of Redemption, and Nebraska if need be.” Hank stated menacingly.

“We don’t want you or need you around here makin’ any more trouble for anyone, lease of all my family, Montgomery,” he continued somberly.

“Be out of Redemption as soon as possible Caleb,” Hank ordered gruffly. “If you don’t leave…..well,” he finished in a disdainful voice.

“Look,” Hank began in a resigned tone, “this is your chance to redeem yourself, somewhat, Caleb. Go away from here and start over somewhere else. Everyone will be the better for it…..including yourself.

{Meanwhile, south of the border…..}

The mesmerizing blue-green waves broke on the shore of Guaymas, Mexico.

Spike Giles thought the wondrous colors of the sea were nothing next to the hues of his wife’s hazel/green eyes.

Said wife; Buffy Summers-Giles was at the moment kicking up her heels, literally, in the waters off the shores of Guaymas.

After they had fled the United States, the relieved, if somewhat disheveled band of desperados had stumbled wearily into Guaymas, Mexico. Well, some of the remaining Crawford gang anyway.

Rupert Giles and young Connor Crawford, along with Jesse, had traveled with Spike and Buffy down to Guaymas. After hearing of poor, doomed Angel and Darla’s deaths, it seemed the best thing for these remaining members of the gang.

Just past the US/Mexican border, on the Mexican side that is, Charles Gunn had announced that he was headed back to Alabama.
Seems the man had a wife, Kendra and two young children waiting for him there.

Charles had assured a concerned Buffy that no one gave a hang about an ex-slave and would ask no questions regarding his sudden reappearance near Selma. Gunn would go home and reclaim his family, no questions asked.

Holden, who did not miss his ‘friend’ Graham at all, had decided to try his luck down further in South America. He headed off for Argentina to try his hand at being a real gaucho on the Pampas down that way.

The other various gang members had taken off for parts unknown, which was just as well really. Perhaps someday, all of their paths would meet once again in happier circumstances…..God willing.


Buffy kicked up the white foam that encircled her calves and giggled wildly at her husband, William.

William Giles lay on the warm sand; perched on his elbows so he could enjoy the show his wife was putting on for him.

“I never thought it could be this beautiful!” Buffy squealed in delight as she scampered up the wet shore to where her husband waited for her.

“Me either,” Spike smirked happily. He held out his arms to catch his rather damp Buffy in them.

Buffy wore nothing but a little white chemise; nothing but a sweet wisp of lace and silk. Spike was in heaven for it, but actually found event hat bit of material a bit pesky for his intentions.

“I love it here,” Buffy sighed in contentment, her blond head snuggled into her Will’s strong chest.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Spike replied lazily as he tenderly stroked Buffy’s slim arm. He gently kissed the top of his wife’s golden head and pulled her even closer to his dry, warm body.

His large hand covered the slight bulge of Buffy’s tummy; the tell-tale sign that she was beginning to show with their child.


“Hmmmm,” Buffy sighed wistfully, alerting Spike to the fact that she was about to ‘say’ something that would probably be poignant and life-altering.

“Will,” Buffy began quietly.

“Yes baby?” He murmured softly to encourage her to speak her mind. If there was one thing Spike knew about his wife, it was that she had many opinions and ideas and that most of them were pretty bloody brilliant.

“What’s that land over, out there?” Buffy asked innocently as she pointed to the speck of darkness to the west of the sea water.

“They call it the Baja of California,” Spike replied simply as he scanned the horizon past the Sea of Cortez.

“Oh,” Buffy mumbled, deep in thought.

“What is it Buffy dear,” Spike asked evenly; his finger slipped up under her chin. He pulled her face up so their gazes met.

“I have family,” she whispered, “in the California of the United States,” she continued quietly. “An aunt of mine has a farm near Sunnydale, California and…..”

“You want to go there and start a new life, right?” Spike asked, his warn blue eyes held no undue judgement or quarrel with Buffy. They only asked for the truth in her words; nothing more.

“I do,” Buffy murmured; her green eyes scanned the distant land longingly.

“I think that can be arranged,” Spike chuckled, his fingers stroked Buffy’s warm cheek affectionately.

“I kind of thought that you might want to go home, to England,” Buffy began with trepidation. She hated the idea of moving to England but she wanted Will to be happy and…..

“I love you Buffy and I want you to be happy,” he whispered into her warm little ear. “Besides,” he continued evenly, “I don’t think Dad and I are really all that welcomed back home in England. We should all get a new start now.”

“Will you love me when I’m as big as one of those whales out there; in the Pacific Ocean? Will you…..” Buffy giggled, but her insecurity showed through.

“I’ll love you even more then I do now,” Spike replied with conviction before he kissed her square on the mouth.

“About Angel, Darla and little Angela,” Buffy began with great hesitation.

“We did what we had to do, baby,” Spike interjected somberly. “Angela is in great hands, with your folks that is and about Angel….” the pain in his voice cut Buffy to the core.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered sincerely as she nuzzled her husband’s neck with her warm, damp lips.

“Me too,” he sighed heavily, “but if you’re any indication of how well the Summers raise their children? Angela will have a wonderful life and be raised like a true lady.”

“That she will honey,” Buffy murmured in response.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Spike decided to act on his impulses.

He began to slip the lacy chemise from his wife’s elegant shoulder and ran his fingers down her arm.

“I think it’s time for me to show you just how much I want you sweetling,” Spike purred huskily.

“Will! Someone will see us!” Buffy cried in shock, but her airy giggle betrayed her ruse.

“Only a dolphin or two, baby,” Spike rasped, his need was apparent and Buffy decided to let him have his way…..(the little minx!)

Spike began to trail a path of warm, soft kitten kisses down Buffy’s neck to her shoulder then her right breast.


“Oh Will,” Buffy sighed dreamily, “you ‘do’ love and want me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Spike replied with a deep chuckle. “I’ll always want you Buffy. When you’re ready to give birth, I’ll want you even more, I swear it.”


A/N: I had grown so fond of this fiction that I decided to continue you it to the end. One, maybe two more chapters and that’s it.

I hope you read this, as sappy as it is and enjoy it.

Thank you, spufette.