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Chapter 2
Arabian Nightmares
Buffy stared at him. "You just got to be kidding me." She saw his serious expression. "You're not kidding." She said wide eyed, holding her head between her hands, looking at everyone and everywhere, searching for an answer, an exit, just anything, she was really getting desperate here.
"Remember what I told you about our cause? He's willing to give us those twenty camels for you, that is a fortune, much more than you are worth to us."
"I'm a US citizen," Buffy protested.
"You were," Mahmoud said, "Now you're a hostage, and in this country, that is little more than a slave. You are very lucky, not many women are considered worth twenty camels."
"You can't leave me here," Buffy pleaded, now beginning to really show how desperate she was, "I'm an American, my government or my parents could pay money for me..." She said, trying that line for the umpteenth time just to see if it worked through their thick skulls…it had to!!
"Your parents can't pay twenty camels' worth, otherwise you would have traveled in First Class. And, trust me, to your government you're already dead." When he saw her desperate expression, he assumed a more gentle tone. "We can't take you into the desert with us. You would not survive a month. You're better off if you go with him."
Buffy glanced at the utterly unattractive man who had bought her. "I can't stay with him! Don't you have a heart? Can't I just go home? I won't tell anyone where you went, I'll tell them you treated me well, please, let me call the embassy at Cairo!"
He shook his head. "Sorry. We cannot afford to lose that much money. Goodbye, heroine. And good luck."
"Name's Buffy!" Buffy shouted after him defiantly, "And I hope you'll fry in hell!"
Mahmoud never looked back as he walked out of her life.
The wrinkled man addressed her in broken English, which oddly made her remember of Tarzan. "Clem is happy to meet you. We go."
"You don't own me!" Buffy shouted.
"No," Clem said, "Clem don't own you, Sheik do." He gestured at a pair of muscular bodyguards who pulled her aside.
"I need to make a phone call," Buffy said, very slowly and clearly, indicating a receiver with her hands, "United States of America. Embassy."
The man shrugged helplessly.
"I must talk to my mother," Buffy pleaded, "She worries!"
He shook his head apologetically and put a hand on her shoulder. "Clem is very sorry."
"Please," Buffy said, almost crying, "I want to go home!"
"Soon," Clem replied, "We're going home. Just one more thing to do."
An assistant stepped forward with a hot iron.
"No!" Buffy screamed and struggled, but she could not prevent being branded with the Sheik's sign like cattle. She felt she would faint from the pain, her skin hurt like a thousand needles were piercing her. She realized she was not going home, and she was not going to get her phone call. She was a slave now. Buffy wished she was dead. It was a first in her life and she wondered how many more firsts she would have to face during this nightmarish tribulation and if it would have an ending, a good one, hopefully.
*
The palace exceeded Buffy's highest expectations. Marble floors, silk curtains and pillows, gold and precious gems decorated the ceilings. The guards pushed her through heavy double doors so violently she stumbled and fell.
She heard light steps on the marble.
"Welcome," a female voice said.
Buffy turned around and saw a veiled woman in expensive black and dark red robes, neck and arms hung with jewels. She nodded at the guards. "Shukran. Roah." Only when the guards had bowed and departed did she lift her veil and look at Buffy. She extended her hand and helped Buffy to her feet.
To Buffy's surprise, the woman's skin was white, rather pale, with sparkling blue-grey eyes. Her hair was black like the feathers of a raven. Her voice didn’t have a mid-east accent.
"Where am I?" Buffy demanded. "Who the hell are you?"
"You're in the harem of Sheik Khari Ahani," the woman replied coldly, looking at her from top to bottom, like scrutinizing merchandise. Hell!! With all the looks she had been receiving and her brand new mark, she was starting to feel like one. "I am his first wife. I am in charge of all the women at the palace. My name is Nargis banu 'i shahla-chashm."
Buffy blinked. "Can you write that down for me?"
The woman gave her an almost compassionate smile. "It translates 'The lady Narcissa with deep eyes', or, less poetic, 'beautiful woman'. For now, you may use my Christian name, Drusilla."
"You're English," Buffy noticed. "Did they kidnap you as well?"
The woman smiled enigmatically. "What we were is of no importance. What is your name, dear?"
"Buffy," Buffy said.
The woman raised a brow. "Short for Elizabeth?"
"Nope. Just Buffy."
She shrugged. "Americans! Well, that can't be helped now, we'll find another name for you."
"I like my name," Buffy protested.
Drusilla ignored her and walked around Buffy in a circle, sizing her up.
Buffy felt suddenly very conscious of the fact that her dress was torn and exposed more of her body than she would want anyone to see.
"Clem made a good choice for the Sheik," she remarked, "He's going to like you. But we will have to find something appropriate for you to wear." She wrinkled her nose. "And a bath."
"I'm not a good cook," Buffy admitted.
Drusilla shrugged. "We have excellent cooks at the palace. You'll eat what they prepare."
"I haven't cleaned marble floors before," Buffy added facing with optimism her future as a slave, thinking maybe, if she behaved she would get a free card out, "But I'm sure someone can show me."
Drusilla raised a brow. "There will be no need for you to do that."
Buffy looked at her in confusion. "But that guy... Clem... He said he'd bought me for the Sheik, as a servant at the palace."
"That is correct."
"Then what exactly am I supposed to do?"
Drusilla did not answer, but gave her an amused, condescending cold smile.
Buffy blushed. "Oh." She took a step back. "No, no way. I'm an American citizen, I'm a free person, and there are laws..."
"You have mistaken your position," Drusilla told her, her tone less friendly and taking a much more dangerous tenor now, while straightening out her back as if denoting her superiority, "It is an honour for you to be chosen."
"I don't want to be 'chosen'," Buffy protested using Drusilla's wording, emphasizing it with her fingers in an all American manner, straightening out also, trying somehow to make up for her lack of stature and showing she was not yet beaten, at least not in spirit.
Drusilla walked up to her and grabbed her chin, forcing Buffy to look into her eyes, digging her long painted fingernails into Buffy's flesh so deeply her skin broke. "Listen, princess," she hissed, "I'm responsible for you now. Any disgrace you cause falls back on me. Believe me, you wouldn't want me for an enemy. So you'd better adjust!"
She let go off Buffy. Buffy was on the verge of tears, but she did not want to give Drusilla that kind of satisfaction.
Drusilla turned away from her. "I'll send some of the girls to bathe and dress you. Quite a few women at the serail speak your language..."
"Our language," Buffy corrected her.
Drusilla shook her head and giggled like a madwoman. "Whatever. He has acquired several American and European women, you will soon feel at home."
Somehow, Buffy doubted that.
*
Drusilla was as good as her word. She sent a whole army of chattering girls to welcome Buffy and introduce her to the life at the palace.
"Marhaba salam alekom, ana ismee Bahramaj," a pretty redhead welcomed her.
"Oh...kay," Buffy murmured.
"Just kidding," she replied, giggling, "I just said: hello, my name is Bahramaj, or, if you prefer, Willow." She embraced Buffy enthusiastically, and then backed away. "Wow, you do need a bath!"
'Well,' Buffy thought, 'try to spend a night riding a camel and then we’ll talk,' but she thought that would be a bit too rude with someone, who at the time, was the first friendly face she has seen since she was forced to leave the plane. "I'm Buffy," Buffy said. "At least currently. Your boss - what's her name again? - indicated she doesn't think it's good enough for your club."
"Don't listen to Dru." Willow looked around anxiously, then, having made sure Drusilla was nowhere to be seen, added: "She's not a friend. We all hate her. She's evil, she's hungry for power because she wants her son to be the next sheik. If you want my advice, stay away from her. She doesn't have a soul."
A quiet girl with dark-blond hair shook her head. "Drusilla's not evil," she disagreed, "I'm sure underneath her cold and treacherous exterior she's a lovely person. She's just jealous. She has lived here for many years, most of us are younger than she is, and..."
"What Tara means," a dark-haired woman, with a figure Buffy would have killed for, summed up, "He knows her C U oN Tuesday."
"Iman!" Tara exclaimed and blushed deeply.
"Faith," Faith corrected her, "I don't go in for Arabic names much, never have, never will. Tongue-twisters are for Dru, English is for the rest of us."
Buffy decided she liked Faith.
"This is the bathroom," Willow explained as they were entering a huge hall with a marble pool which was bigger than the Summers' house back at home. "Soaps, lotions, oils, fresh towels, and a variety of gowns to choose from. Anything a girl would want!"
"How about a phone?" Buffy asked.
Willow smiled apologetically. "You'll adjust. Give us a week, and you won't even want to go home any more. Why don't you just have a bath, it'll make you feel much better already."
Buffy realized it was no use offending the women. They had been very kind to her so far, and obviously they were prisoners here as well, just like her. She forced herself to smile. "Thank you guys," Buffy said, "I think I'll manage just fine from here. So I see you at dinner?"
The women started giggling.
"We're here to help," Willow said.
"I appreciate that," Buffy told her, "But I'd rather be alone."
"And I'd rather be an astronaut or a vampire slayer," Faith replied levelly, "Come on, B, don't be shy. We're a big family." Ignoring Buffy's protests, Faith undressed her unceremoniously.
Willow sensed how uncomfortable the new girl had to be feeling, so she decided to make things easier for her. "I could use a bath, too," she declared, even though she had had a bath in the morning already.
"I could help you," Tara offered shyly.
Willow smiled. "Thanks, I could use a hand."
Buffy watched them suspiciously while Tara slowly undressed Willow and bathed her in the water, then massaging her skin with scented oil. Was it possible that there was more between Tara and Willow than friendship? The sheik had to be a lousy lover if his women sought comfort in each other's arms.
Faith grinned. "Yeah, that's what I thought, too, first time I saw them. But they'd better not act on it or things could get ugly. Rule 1 if you wanna survive here: you get some with the sheik, or you don't get any. Not with yourself, not with one of the others. Or else..." She ran her index finger slowly along her neck to imitate beheading.
"You can't be serious," Buffy said, not sounding as secure as she meant to.
Faith winked at her instead of a reply. "Now, what do we have here?" Faith looked at Buffy, then gestured at a very thin girl with big eyes and mouse brown hair. "Fred, could you get me some hot wax?"
"I had my legs waxed before I left," Buffy protested.
Faith sighed. "Not for your legs, B. Rule 2 if you wanna survive here: absolutely no body hair. Everything that's not on your head, forget it."
Fred brought the wax.
Faith handed Buffy a piece of plain cloth. "You'll want to bite down on this," she said, obviously enjoying the situation. "This may hurt a bit."
*
"I'm thinking... pink," Willow said as they went through the dresses together.
"I'd like something in red, let's say, it would match perfectly the color of my skin?" Buffy suggested sarcastically. Her skin was so sore she could hardly walk.
"Faith should have given you a warning," Willow apologized, "But it'll stop hurting, eventually. Let's give you something to do so you won't think about the pain so much any more." She handed Buffy the pink dress. "There's a mirror."
Buffy tried the dress and was almost shocked at her reflection. The dress was of finest silk and brocade, but it was cut until a few inches above her navel. Merely one third of her breasts was covered by thin fabric which was such a sweet nothing it emphasized her curves rather than concealing them. "I don't know," she said slowly, not wanting to offend Willow, who seemed to love it.
"Don't you like the color? We have green and blue as well," Willow said eagerly, about to turn around to fetch them.
"That's not it," Buffy said, stopping her mid-turn and carefully choosing her next words, "Look, I don't wanna sound bitchy and all, but... it's... deeply cut and really transparent."
"Well, it's summer," Willow said apologetically as if that would explain the lack of material.
"I feel... naked," Buffy told her. "The dress is vulgar."
"Let's see if we can find something else for you," Willow tried to compromise.
That moment, a shadow fell over them.
"I think it's perfect," Drusilla told them. "I picked those dresses for you myself. Shukran, Bahramaj. You may leave." She cast Willow a dirty look as if she was a disgusting bug that had to be disposed of. "You don't have time to change anyway, you have to hurry" she told Buffy. Before Buffy had a chance to ask where she had to hurry, Drusilla stepped forward and cleared her voice.
The girls fell silent.
"Here's today's list," Drusilla said. "Anyanka."
"Yes!" Anyanka exclaimed and hurried from the room.
"Tara."
Tara nodded and silently left.
"Iman."
Faith grinned and walked after them, hips swaying seductively.
"Darla."
A tall woman with blond locks Buffy had not noticed before, but immediately thought of as cold and calculating judging from the cool expression on her blue eyes that somehow had a remarkable resemblance to those of Drusilla’s, left the room.
"And... Buffy," Drusilla said, the way she pronounced her name a comment by itself.
"Where am I supposed to..." Buffy asked.
"Go," Willow whispered, "Follow the others. You're just on the list. I'd say it was to be expected. Don't worry. Oh, and put the veil over your face as you walk through the palace, no other man is supposed to see you unveiled."
Buffy nodded absently.
As the door fell close behind them, Willow buried her face in her hands and sighed.
"It's Buffy's first day. He's not gonna... You don't think he's gonna..." Fred asked her.
"I'm sure he is, Dru styled her like a prostitute," Willow said, very upset. "I'd have hoped he'd give her at least a day or two to adjust."
*
Buffy followed the other women through long corridors, convinced that she would never find her way back alone.
"Where are we going?" she asked Anyanka, who had taken the lead.
Anyanka gestured even further ahead. "To the sheik's reception room."
"What for?" Buffy inquired, not sure she wanted to hear the reply.
Anyanka shook her head. "You're very stupid."
Tara caught up with them. "Anyanka, just in case you haven't noticed, there is something that's called tact."
Anyanka rolled her eyes.
"What's he like?" Buffy asked in a very small voice.
"He's alright," Tara said.
Anyanka did not think that was sufficient information. "His mom was the old sheik's one true love, people say, but because she was a foreigner, some people didn't want Khari as the new sheik. There are rumors that he had his opponents' heads pierced with long iron railroad spikes. Trust me, you'll like him. Sadly, he hardly ever chooses me any more these days, says I'm talking too much."
"Can't figure out why." The woman named Darla put a hand on Buffy's shoulder. "Those are just rumors. If you behave, you won't get into trouble. Now, ladies, place your bets, who will be the Chosen One?"
"I'd like to buy a B," Faith told her. "Five kittens."
Darla made a note. "Check."
Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Kittens?"
"It's the only currency we have at the Palace," Tara apologized, "There are many stray cats in the streets, and we're not allowed to have any money on us."
Buffy frowned, obviously disgusted. "What a stupid currency!"
"Want me to lend you a kitten, dear, so you can place your bet? No?" Darla shrugged. "All right. I bet it's Buffy, too."
Anyanka nodded and sighed. "Yeah, probably. Sign me up for another five."
Tara did not place a bet.
They had reached the door. Two guards showed them in and made them queue in front of a curtain that concealed a throne. Only the feet and the hem of a gown could be seen. The sheik was watching them through a small opening in the curtain. His eyes were covered by shadow.
Drusilla was standing at the side of the throne, looking majestic like a queen. She nodded at the other women. "Take your veils off. You may pay your respects now."
One by one obeyed. They stepped forward to kneel in front of the throne and kissed the hem of the sheik's gown. While Tara merely brushed her lips against the fabric very briefly with her eyes cast down, Faith made a show of the gesture and moved her mouth sensuously, licking her lips as she stepped back into the row. "Isn't it HOT in here?" Anyanka announced, using her dress to fan fresh air to her body, and Darla bent lower than necessary to make sure the sheik got a good look at her advantages.
Buffy stood petrified. "I'm not gonna do that," she said. "I'm a US citizen, I demand to speak to my embassy. While I'm waiting, I am entitled to treatment according to the Geneva convention concerning prisoners of war."
There was no reply. Buffy waited anxiously, her heart almost breaking her chest.
Tara froze. What Buffy had just said was enough to get her sentenced to death.
The guards made a move to drag her where she was meant to kneel, but the sheik's hand appeared from behind the curtain. "Estana shoeya. Maalish."
Tara closed her eyes in relief. Wait a moment. Never mind. The guards backed off. He would ignore Buffy's remark and credit her defiance to the fact that it was her first day. But Tara had been at the palace for long enough to know that this was not the end. Khari would make his choice now. She remembered her first day, how she had come to this room, feeling lonely, exposed and frightened to death. He had chosen her. Now she was standing in a row with the other women once again.
He raised his hand, pointing at one of them.
Buffy.
Anyanka smiled at her. "Congratulations, Buffy!"
Faith patted her shoulder. "Congrats, you're a lucky girl!"
Buffy was confused. "What did he say? Do I finally get my phone call?"
"Nope. But you get to sleep with the sheik."
*
"If you keep crying, your eyes will be red and swollen by the time he sees you," Anyanka said dryly.
"Please, stop crying," Willow said desperately, "It's not that bad! You were very lucky he didn't punish you for what you said. He must really like you. That's a good start, isn't it?"
Buffy shot daggers at her. "A phone call would have been a good start. My mother must be worried sick by now, and I'm stuck here in a silken cage! Don't you understand? I don't wanna be here, and I don't wanna be the slave of a chauvinist pig who brands women like cattle!"
"Now you're being unfair," Willow told her, "I've always felt respected."
Buffy shook her head angrily. "Respected? Willow, do you even know what that word means? If you sold your body to men in the streets, I would respect you more! You're lying to yourselves, all of you. You're pretending to be little queens to deceive yourselves over the fact that you're just prostitutes!"
Willow rose, her voice suddenly cool and distant while her eyes were filled with a mixture of hurt and betrayal. "You're upset. I understand that, but I don't have to listen to your verbal abuse. If you want to talk later, you know where to find me."
Again, it was Drusilla who spoke to her. "Are you ready? The sheik is expecting you."
Buffy's eyes were full of tears when she replied: "I'm not sleeping with him."
Drusilla nodded. "Fine. Then you'll die. You're free to choose. But if I were you, I would at least take a look at my options before I did myself in."
Buffy thought she had a fair point.
*
Buffy entered the sheik's quarters silently. On the plane and during her ride across the desert, she had been afraid of being shot, among other things. When you thought things couldn’t get worse, they were, a lot more. It was no longer raining, it was pouring, cats and dogs included, Buffy thought. She really had no idea how she was going to get out of this, and the feeling was getting old, real fast.
She entered the room and heard the doors close behind her. Her palms were wet, her legs shaking, and she had a bad feeling in her stomach.
He was waiting with his back turned to her, facing the window. The setting sun behind him was blinding her, so she could see a little more than a silhouette.
Buffy stood and waited, saying nothing.
"Buffy," he said.
Buffy glared at him. "Right, that's my name, and if you think you can give me another one so I forget my identity, like the other deluded girls in your precious harem build up in a fantasy but oh so chauvinistic world, you're sooo wrong, mister! I meant what I said," she said without any preliminaries, "I'm an American citizen, I have rights, and I want to call my embassy. I'm not afraid of your threats."
He turned around, and Buffy was astonished to see a man with white skin, platinum hair and very blue eyes. Not at all the way she had imagined him to be. Those eyes were stunning. If he had asked her out at the luxurious five star hotel she was supposed to be staying at, she might have even said yes. Who was she kidding?! She would have thanked the powers that be and give them her first child, to have a guy like that noticing her. But returning to her train of thought, the point was she was not at a hotel, not in a free world as it is, and he had never asked her out. He had purchased her like her mother bought marble statues and paintings for the gallery. Her mother, who she would never see again in her life. Buffy felt like crying, but instead, her face went white with anger. Her mother!! He was keeping her away from her mother!! What right did he have?? Apparently every right a sheik could get…
He looked at her for the longest moment, and then gestured at the soft pillows on the floor next to a low table. "Have some tea with me, Buffy."
His serenity was upsetting her even more. "So what?" she said, her heart pounding, "So we can have a little chat before you rape me?"
The words hung in the air for a minute.
Their eyes locked.
Instantly, Buffy regretted her harsh words, but it was too late. What had been said could not be unspoken. She saw his deep blue eyes change. The calmness disappeared within the fraction of a second, giving way to a dark storm of rage. However, his wrath did not show in his voice. "We need to talk," he said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, yeah, is this the part when you tell me that I am chosen, and that it's an honor for me to be here, that I should be happy and grateful and agree contently to your every whim?"
He lay down on the diwan by the window and tilted his head. "Do you think Willow, Anyanka or Faith are unhappy?"
"They don't know better!" Buffy burst out. "Who knows how long they've been here? It's not like a girl gets an education in your country!"
The sheik raised a brow. "Precisely. Sadly, girls are not normally regarded as a blessing for a family here. If you like it or not, without me, some of my women would be out working themselves on the streets, or even worse, dead."
"So you're making whores of your women before anyone else does," Buffy said hotly. "What an altruist you are!"
"I respect every one of them," he explained.
Buffy took a step toward him and bared her arm, showing him the dried blood and burnt skin where she had been branded with his sign. "If this is what you call respect...", she said with tears threatening to fall in her eyes and voice cracking, remembering the ordeal.
"It will heal," he said softly, "There will be nothing left but thin lines, like a tattoo, a little whiter than your skin."
"I'm not gonna listen to this bullshit any longer," she said. "Let's get this done, so you can lock me up again and call another one of your slaves."
He did not move, just shook his head very lightly.
"What are you waiting for?" she challenged as she started to unfasten her dress.
His hand caught her wrist. He had jumped up so fast she hadn't seen him make a move, and stood right before her. "Stop that," he said in a low voice, his tone threatening and dangerous.
"Don't touch me," Buffy hissed.
He let go off her hand. "I wouldn't touch you if you begged for it."
"Great, 'cos that's so not gonna happen! Finally we're getting somewhere".
He backed away. "You may withdraw."
"Good." Buffy turned and rushed for the door before he changed his mind.
"Not so fast," he said sharply. "I have a question for you first." He paused. "Will you give me an answer, or is that against your feminist code of honour?"
Buffy stared at him angrily. "Fine. If you answer me a question first."
He leaned back on the diwan. "Fire away."
"Why are you here? I mean, look at you, you're whiter than me, your eyes are..." [gorgeous] "...blue, and I bet Khari Ahani isn't your name either!"
He chuckled, suddenly some of the anger seemed to dissipate from his contained face. "You're right, it isn't the name my mother gave me. She was an English woman, she came here when my father was the sheik. She was his favourite. Khari Ahani is a nickname I was given after I had succeeded my father as sheik, because of an… unfortunate occurrence in my past. Khari Ahani means 'Spike'."
Buffy felt a chill. So it was true what Anya had said. There are rumors that he had his opponents' heads pierced with long iron railroad spikes.
"Does that answer your question?"
Buffy nodded, her throat tight.
"Good." Spike looked at her intently. "Now I have a question for you."
Buffy waited, fidgeting somewhat, anxious to get out of his chambers.
His gaze traveled over her whole body, resting at her eyes. He rose from the diwan and walked up to her, stopping mere inches from her, so close she could feel his body heat. "Would you consent to have sex with me if I let you call your family?"
Buffy shivered. Was he actually considering letting her go? She looked into his eyes, his expression was unreadable. For a moment she imagined what it would be like just to close her arms around him, to feel his lips on hers, just for one night, and then return home from her 'adventure'. "I guess," she barely whispered.
"So who's making you a whore, me or you?"
Buffy stared at him, eyes a mere slit. "You have no conception of how much I hate you," she hissed and ran from him.
"Buffy," he called after her.
She stopped, tears streaming down her face. She could not turn around, she would not let him see her cry. "What?" she managed to say in a hoarse voice.
"When you get back to the serail, tell Anyanka I'd like some company."
"Of course," Buffy said in mock obedience, "She'll be honored."
*
"I want to know where my daughter is!" Joyce Summers insisted.
"We're doing our best, Mrs. Summers," the Chief of Police tried to placate her, "Authorities in all major cities and border personnel have been informed. We have your address at your hotel in Cairo. There is nothing you can do here. We will let you know as soon as we get more information."
"My daughter has been kidnapped!" Joyce said angrily. "A white, blonde, green eyed American girl can't just disappear in this country!"
"You'd be surprised," he muttered under his breath, obviously not loud enough for her to listen. "The pilot and two hostages were severely injured, the two hijackers we were able to arrest are still in intensive care and will not be available for questioning in the next few hours if at all. We have to prevent their henchmen from shutting them up before they get a chance to sing. This is not Cairo, Mrs. Summers, this is just a small town. At the moment, I cannot spare any more men to search for your daughter."
Joyce looked at him with despair. "Do you have any children?"
The chief nodded. "Two sons, eight and ten. And a daughter, five."
She squeezed his hand.
He sighed. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you."
*
Buffy was sobbing heavily when she returned to the others.
Dru and Darla exchanged meaningful looks. Darla extended her hand, Dru bestowed her with two kittens. Darla smiled, pleased with herself, and withdrew.
"What was that about?" Buffy asked.
Tara cast her eyes down. "Darla bet you would be crying when you returned."
"Great," Buffy commented and let herself fall down on the pillows.
Willow was sitting nearby, hugging her knees. She gave Buffy a compassionate look, but did not say anything.
Buffy felt sorry about her outburst. There was no point in offending the only allies she had in this world. She crawled over to her new friend. "Will, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to..."
"That's alright," Willow said hesitantly, still a little offended.
"So... we're friends again. Right?"
Tara gave her an encouraging look and squeezed Willow's hand.
Willow took a deep breath, smiling for the first time since she arrived. "Right."
"Thanks," Buffy said with relief and hugged Willow.
Willow pushed her away. "Remember the rules," she whispered, "No touching. I don't want anyone to think...y'know."
"Right." Buffy thought that in Willow's shoes, she would worry more about holding Tara's hand in public than about Buffy's harmless hug. Still, Buffy felt uneasy. All eyes were on her. Then she remembered what she was previously ordered to do. "Anyanka, he asked me to tell you he wants to see you."
Anyanka's eyes widened with a joy and lust that Buffy was sure she would never be able to achieve even if she tried. "And you couldn't have said that when you came in?" She jumped up and hastened to look at her image in the mirror. "My hair! Is my hair alright?"
Faith grinned. "Worry about your hair when he's done with you."
Anyanka put on some jewels and perfume. "Don't stay up for me," she said and hurried out.
Faith sat down between Buffy, Tara and Willow. "And now I want details."
Buffy blinked. "Details?"
"Yeah," Faith said, "About Spike's little spike, or should I say not so little..."
Buffy blushed. "We didn't... I mean, I didn't have... I said I wouldn't, and he didn't..."
"You wouldn't? You're not being serious, B!" Faith burst out, gesturing at Willow, "Even Lady Dyke here makes an exception for him!"
Willow looked around anxiously. "There are better words than that, Faith," she chided, "And I'm not gay!"
Instead of an answer, Faith looked at the joined hands of Willow and Tara with an amused smirk, causing Willow to immediately withdraw her hand, making them blush with a sheepish look crossing their faces.
Faith looked at her innocently behind long lashes. "Whatever you say, Wills." To Buffy's dislike, Faith focused on her again. "So, B, how long have you known you're a lesbo?"
"I'm not gay," Buffy protested, looking so shocked Faith immediately believed her.
Faith stared at her. "You're a virgin! Haven’t had those around for a while."
Buffy blushed even deeper. "I have had sex before," she said a little too loudly, while looking around anxiously.
Faith shrugged. "Well, let's hear about that, then. Let me guess. One big love, great fireworks?"
"I've had two long-term relationships," Buffy announced proudly, "And a one-night stand!"
"Big deal," Faith replied, unimpressed. "Were they any good?"
Buffy thought about it for a moment. "With Angel, everything was perfect. At least until he wanted to have sex. Then everything changed." A shadow fell over her face. "It didn't work out. He left. He called from time to time, and we saw each other once or twice, but it really wasn’t the same. Even though he was my first love, I could never fall back into that self-destructing from too much brooding relationship again."
"So, how about door number two?" Faith asked.
"Riley was great. He was reliable, honest, sweet... But something was missing."
"The beast in him," Faith suggested, eyes sparkling.
Buffy looked at her skeptically.
"Something wild," Faith explained, "The fire, B! But I don't understand you, if what you want is a little adventure, some passion, why did nothing happen in there?"
"I hate him," Buffy said defiantly.
Faith shrugged. "Why? Has he done anything, or made you do anything weird?"
Buffy shook her head.
"So what's your problem?"
Buffy jumped from the pillow. "What's MY problem?" She showed her the burn on her arm. "THAT's my problem!" along with some freedom and sex related others, Buffy thought, but she kept that to herself.
"It will heal." Faith showed her arm. Buffy could see the scar had faded, that there was merely a thin white line on Faith's tanned skin.
Buffy shook her head. "And you're happy with that? That's good enough for you?"
"Five by five."

TBC...
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