Thanks to a trip to Willy’s, the local demon bar, Xander had learned that his tiny blonde grand-childe had been involved in a brutal fight with the Slayer a week earlier. What surprised him the most was that she had walked away, leaving the boy bloodied and broken, laying in the dank alley behind the Bronze. He had been shocked that Buffy had passed up the opportunity to add another notch to her belt; putting her Slayer count at three.
The solution to his problematic childe suddenly popped into his brain. Flinging himself from the bed, Xander tore out of the bedroom in search of Willow. He found her sitting on the marbled living room floor, tears rolling down her face as she softly murmuring nonsense about princesses and castles. Xander shook his head at her antics; knowing he would never be able to comprehend what was going on in her pretty little head. Kneeling down beside Willow, Xander stroked her back and whispered, “My sweet Willow, do you want to go find your pretty princess?”
The tears had stopped almost instantaneously at Xander’s suggestion. Willow had leapt from the floor and took off full sprint towards their bedroom, where she was currently tossing items from the closet onto the bed. Itching to be out of Sunnydale, Xander pulled a bag out from under their bed and put the clothes inside. Fifteen minutes later, Xander was locking the front door while Willow waited impatiently in the car; bouncing excitedly on the front seat. Hurrying down the sidewalk, Xander glanced back at their new home, glad that the previous owner had been a sucker for sweet, innocent young blonde girls needing to use the telephone; now when they visited, they would have a place to stay.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, Xander pulled Willow against him and kissed her hungrily. “Don’t you worry, baby. We’ll search every castle until we find your princess.” With a smug expression on his face, he backed out of the drive with the knowledge that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure Willow never saw Buffy again.
Buffy groaned and stretched, trying to wake up, her vampire senses telling her the sun was setting. When her hand brushed against a warm body next to her, Buffy’s eyes shot wide open. Lying next to her was a rather large man; a man that she had no conscious memory of, but could smell his blood and taste it in her mouth. Much to her surprise, Buffy could hear his heart beating. Looking around the room, she also realized that the room was unfamiliar as well. Bland wallpaper, dirty carpet, bed linens that resembled sandpaper and the unmistakable smell of sex told her that she was either in a hotel room or her choice of companion lived in a rat hole.
As silently as possible, Buffy slid from the bed and began to search for her clothes. She located her red leather pants bunched up at the foot of the bed, the black halter top tossed over the back of a chair, one boot by the door and one on top of the small dinner table. Her bra and thong were nowhere to be found. Not wanting to wake up her bedmate, Buffy gave up the search and quickly dressed. She had just zipped up her boots when the overly muscular man in the bed began to squirm, signaling that he was waking up. Easing the door open, Buffy slipped out into the hallway. After making her way downstairs, where she stood in the darkened parking lot and wondered, ‘Where the hell am I?’
It had been over a week since his fight with Buffy. His injuries had long since healed, thanks to his slayer healing abilities, but every detail was still etched in his mind. Each night he went out searching for her, thoroughly checking anyplace that he thought she might be; the Bronze, Willy’s and each and every one of Sunnydale’s cemeteries; yet, he found nothing. No one had seen Buffy since their last meeting in the alley way. Still, he continued to search, desperately needing to know why she had left him alive. Why the ‘Slayer of Slayers’ would pass up the opportunity to kill another one; why was he spared?
Tonight’s patrol was slow; slower than usual. Word around town was that all three major players in the vampire community had left town. Spike roamed around the darkened cemetery, stake in hand, itching for something to kill. A real challenge, not the pathetic fledglings he dusted so easily. Checking his watch, he found that time had passed faster than he had thought and decided to call it a night since sunrise would be soon. It was nearing five in the morning when he slipped in the front door and eased up the stairs. He was as quiet as a mouse; careful not to step on the spots he knew would squeak and alert his arrival. The last thing he wanted this early in the morning was to speak to his father. Ever since Angel and Gunn had carried him home, unconscious and beaten, Rupert had been overly protective of him. It actually surprised Spike that his father wasn’t waiting up for his early morning arrival, ready to dissect every aspect of the night’s patrol.
Once in his bedroom, Spike shrugged out of his duster and placed it on the hook behind the bedroom door. Sitting down at his desk, he decided to check his email before going to bed. After deleting several items, he came across one from Angel. Inside the email, Spike found that his friend wanted to set him up on a date with some girl he met at the Bronze while he had been patrolling. Apparently she was new to town and would be starting school with them on Monday. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to at least meet the girl; he quickly sent a reply to Angel to arrange for her to meet them at the Bronze around eight that night. As he shut down his computer, Spike couldn’t help but wonder why any parent would name their daughter Drusilla.
TBC...