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Previously
“I must say kitten, you do seem to love a bit of a rough and tumble” drawled a low voice. Buffy’s head turned in the darkest direction of the tent where the figure stood.

The figure took a few steps forward and into the light. With a gasp, Buffy recognized the platinum haired man from earlier.
“You!” she snarled, as she flailed her limbs uselessly against the chains.

Spike smirked, “Hello cutie.”

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

Buffy felt outrage, anger, and a sense of helplessness sweep over her as she eyed her captor who decreased the distance between them by moving steadily forward to the bed. As he came into the light, Buffy had to bite her lip to keep from gasping.

He was magnificent; his slender body was muscular in a way that reminded her of a sleek wolf that was seen as sacred to her people because of its predator instincts and beauty. His pale blonde hair that was practically white seemed to gleam like white gold, while his blue eyes shone like midnight. His physique reminded her of the statues of the Roman Gods she had seen in the Roman outposts; she wouldn’t have been surprise if he wasn’t human at all.

“ Pet, quit shaking I’m not goin’ hurt you, alright?” her captor’s voice jolted Buffy out of her thoughts and back into the harsh reality that was staring her in the face. Bad Buffy, she scolded herself. No naughty thoughts about the guy who kidnapped you and is probably going to sell you as a slave.

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

Spike had no idea what was running through his little hell cat’s mind. She seemed to be calculating another attempt at escape and Spike wasn’t worried about her attempts to escape ( the camp was too well guarded and she was too weak) , but what he wasn’t certain of was whether she was a spy for the local tribes.

Spike wouldn’t have put it past Angelous to have resorted to any dirty tactics to obtain information to defeat Spike. For all Spike knew, Angelous could have had the whole thing staged as attempt to get the girl inside the camp. Spike knew that this girl was no helpless maiden in distress; Clem himself had verified that the girl was a seasoned warrior. The question was: whose warrior was she?

“I demand that you let me go,” the girl’s vicious and direct tone of voice attracted Spike’s attention. Spike raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t think so luv, not until we suss out who the hell you are and what the hell you’re doing here.”

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

Who was she and what was she doing her???? Buffy felt like clawing his face off. “Alright, you insufferable idiot. My name is Buffy and I’m from the Fianna Tribe, I’m a daughter of Fai, warrior and future leader of my tribe.” Though the man infront of her was a true Adonis, Buffy had the feeling that he didn’t exactly have the brains to go with it because he stood staring at her with his jaw dropped.

“ A woman, leading a tribe?” he scoffed. “No wonder, the empire is taking over this pathetic island so easily.”

Buffy lost her temper. “While your EMPIRE was still using horse shit to fertilize your fields, our people built a true kingdom that is descended from the gods of old, this land is our blood and our home, which we will defend until the world ends, whereas you mercenaries will hold out until your empire’s treasury runs dry!”

If Spike hadn’t seen the girl’s wounds for himself, he would have died laughing, but this girl spoke not as a bleeding heart, brain washed savage, but as a warrior equal of his attention.

Spike suddenly caught sight of the half moon crescent on her forehead. “You’re a Caillech, a chosen one trained in the ancient arts of war.”

Buffy nodded. “Now that you know that I’m not a spy, will you kindly let me go.”

Spike suddenly felt a pain at the thought of this beautiful goddess leaving so quickly, besides her wounds demanded proper care and attention, AND he had yet to suss out whether she was a spy or not. “Sorry luv, no dice. How can I be sure you’re really not a spy? I don’t fancy being stabbed in the middle of the night so the chains stay on. Furthermore, until I find out the whole story about you, you’re not leaving.”
*
******************************

Buffy’s frustration had upgraded from wishing him serious injury to a long a painful death that started by removing certain articles of value. Still she struggled to maintain her composure and speak calmly to convince him of the truth of her story. “Look, send word to my tribe and they’ll vouch for my story. Call in an interpreter or someone who speaks my language and I’ll show you that I speak the language of my tribe- What in the name of Fai are you doing!?” Buffy’s attempt to reason with the man had been cut off as he had moved to the bed and was suddenly too close for her liking.

Spike rolled his eyes at the accusation in her voice. “Kitten, all’s I’m doing is taking this blanket and wrapping it around you so that you don’t get cold, alright? Secondly, save the story for tomorrow, we’ll sort it out then, I personally am not sure if you’re working with Angelous or not.”

Buffy fired back, “ I’ve no reason to lie to you and why would I lie for Angelous?”

As Spike bent his head over to check her chains though he muttered, “His reputation to pry apart women’s thighs is notorious, so excuse me if I don’t trust the word of a woman.”

That did it. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back or more appropriately, Spike’s nose. Buffy was so enraged by his last comment that, as soon as Spike’s head was close enough she head butted him as hard as possible.

“Bloody HELL!”

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

An hour later a very tired Clem sighed as he wrapped Spike’s nose. “Spike, hold still. Gods man, you act as if you’ve never been wounded before. So for the love of Jupiter, quit whining!” Spike’s scream earlier had alerted the guards, who had dragged Clem out of bed to examine the “wounded” general. In Clem’s opinion, it was Spike’s pride that was wounded, not his nose.

“Now Spike, remember to clean it, wrap it every- Spike! Let her alone, the poor thing is just dead tired.”

Spike cast another murderous look at the “helpless”, sleeping figure on the bed. Right, he thought, helpless my arse. Too lost in his thoughts, Spike failed to notice that Clem was trying to get his attention again.

“SPIKE!” Clem barked. “ take that medicine, get some sleep, and leave that poor girl alone.”

Spike snorted. “For the love of Venus, Clem I’m the one with a broken nose! Who are you siding with anyway?”

“Good Night Spike.” Rolling his eyes, Clem shook his head and left the tent.

Once Clem had left, Spike turned to glare at the sleeping angel, who looked no more dangerous than a baby. Wincing, he pinched his nose to alleviate the pain and approached the bed, careful to stay out of range for fear of a black eye.

“I know you’re awake, but go ahead and pretend you’re asleep, makes no difference to me. Alright, Goldilocks this is it,” he gritted out. “As of right now, I’m done playing nice. Make no mistake this is not over yet.”

As Spike curled up in a cot on the other end of the tent, the blonde girl opened her eyes to smirk at his figure. Both were thinking the exact same thing : ‘Bring it on’.


Chapter End Notes:
Fai: Ireland , so when Buffy refers to herself as a daughter of Fai she is reflecting her tribal pride in her ancestors.



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