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Chapter 23

'What else could possibly go wrong?' Spike thought as he ducked one of the Slayer's punches.

On the other hand, things could be worse. Sure he was stuck in a fight where he couldn't throw a punch for fear of setting off his chip, however, in her trance like state, Buffy was slow and predictable. The creativity and spirit which made her the most deadly fighter he'd ever faced were completely lacking. Had he been able to hit back, he would have won hands down.

She wasn't his only problem. Lou and the flunky he'd been talking to when Spike entered the room, were simply watching the show at the moment, but Spike was sure if he did somehow defeat Buffy, they would raise the alarm.

And just like that he had a plan. Brainwashed Buffy continued in her mindless and predictable attacks. It was easy to second guess her, to move her into just the right spot, and then to duck at just the right moment.

Her fist flew over his head and connected with Lou's face. Lou went down like a sack of potatoes. For the first time that night luck shone down on Spike. The moment Lou lost consciousness, Buffy regained hers.

"What's with the glass- Huh? What's going on?" came her confused questions.

"No time for that now, luv. RUN!"

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the room. Behind him he could hear the stunned flunky say, "Boss?" before he started running for help.

Spike's luck seemed to hold however. By some small miracle, 'The Mermaid's Grasp' was actually up to code, and bright green signs pointed the back way out. Also, Buffy didn't stop to question him or protest but followed him outside. In Spike's book, that was a rather large miracle.

As soon as they were outside, Spike headed for the street.

"Of all the nights to be a good boy and not drink and drive," he muttered under his breath. He didn't see how Buffy and he would make it very far without wheels. Having no other choice they took off at a dead run down the street.

Behind them he could hear bouncers, strippers, and patrons, all pour out of 'The Mermaid's Grasp', eager for blood. In front of them a single headlight bore down on them. Spike smiled as he managed to make out the non-human form of the rider. Luck hadn't abandoned them yet.

"Stay here, and be ready," he told Buffy as he stepped out into the street.

The motorcycle bore down on him, unaware, or uncaring. Timing it just right, Spike leapt up into the air, kicking out his foot. He caught the rider square in the chest knocking him off the motorcycle. Spike quickly righted the bike and got on. Behind him he thought he heard Buffy mutter, "I could do that." When he looked at her she was blushing bright red, though he couldn't imagine why.

"Come on, luv," he called to Buffy, holding out his hand.

She hesitated for just a moment. But one look at the angry mob behind them decided her. She took Spike's hand and got on behind him, hugging him tightly. He headed out of town as fast as the bike could carry them.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Buffy had lost track of time. Riding behind a cute, dangerous guy on a motorcycle should have been sexy and glamorous. It always was in the movies. Instead, Buffy thought she was about ready to jump off the back.

Her fingers were cold and numb, and the muscles in her arms were cramping from holding onto Spike. It seemed like every time she tried to look around him she got a bug in the face, and the wind whipped her hair into her eyes. At the speed they were going, she was too scared to hold on with only one hand and brush them out of her face. She had no helmet, and images of gruesome road safety videos from Driver's Ed kept flashing through her mind.

Not to mention that something had happened. Something really bad. Or maybe it had only almost happened. But despite her brief memory loss, Buffy was sure that blacking out in a place like 'The Mermaid's Grasp' could not be good.

She wanted to ask Spike about it. Wanted to ask him what happened. But there was no way she could carry on a conversation on the motorcycle.

All she knew was that they had been riding without a break for some time now. Spike had looked beaten up, and he had run. Buffy had never known Spike to run from a fight unless he was fighting her.

Finally, to her relief, Spike pulled over into a 24-hour gas station. He got off the bike and began to put gas in it. Whimpering a little, Buffy got off as well. Her arms weren't the only things that were stiff. She happily thrust her hand under her armpits to warm them up.

"You all right?" asked Spike as he put the nozzle in the tank. His voice was flat, as if he was angry but trying not to show it.

"Just a little sore. Where are we going?"

"Don't know. Away."

"Gee, that sounds like a plan."

"Well, someone has to do the thinking around here." He started to raise his voice, "And I sure as hell don't trust you to do it. What the hell were you thinking going into a place like that?" he roared.

"I was rescuing you," Buffy said defensively.

"FROM WHAT? You know, Slayer I've been taking care of my self longer than you've been alive." he barked.

"I don't know. I got to your place, and there had obviously been a fight, so I went looking for you, and Willie said something about that place. So I went there and asked about you, and I don't know what happened after that."

Spike sank down to the ground, leaning against the gas pump, his face in his hands. He made a strangled sound which after a moment Buffy identified as laughing. He looked up and tears were running down his face.

"Figures. It's all my fault. There wasn't a fight, Buffy. I was just. . . mad. The way you ran off I figured you'd gone off to go save Angel. I was just, blowing off some steam."

Buffy was both startled and frightened by Spike's tears. His voice was soft now. As if he'd been defeated; broken. She couldn't understand this Spike; she didn't know how to deal with him, so she did the only thing she knew how. She tried to get him back on the defensive. Make him fight her again. Make him stop being broken.

"And you go to a place like that? I don't see how you have any more business there than I do. Not to mention those 'girls'. Eeeew!"

"You're right," his voice was almost a whisper. "Or rather you were right. You should stay away from me."

A clicking noise told them that the tank was full. Spike got up and pulled out the nozzle, busying himself with the bike.

"I'll take you somewhere and then. . . I'll leave. Go away. . ." his voice trailed off.

"What? Why?" She pulled on his arm, spinning him around to face her. "You can't do that. I need you. What's going on, Spike?" Desperation was beginning to rise in her voice.

"Yeah?" he asked quietly, the faintest edge of hope in his voice.

Before she could answer, he straightened up and he was Spike again: arrogant, egotistical, jackass (not to mention evil vampire) Spike. Buffy felt the knot that had been forming in her stomach undo.

"Right then," he said in his decision making voice. "Look we're in trouble you and me. Lou, he's not the kind to give up. He doesn't put up with trouble in his club and we caused a bunch. We can't go back. . ."

"L.A. We could go to L.A." Buffy volunteered.

The moment the words left her lips she knew they'd been a mistake. She could see the anger flare up in Spike's eyes. Still angry Spike was better than broken Spike.

"L.A.'s on the other side of Sunnydale, pet."

"But. . ." she thought about the long ride on the motorcycle. "We need to go back to Sunnydale. Get your car anyway."

"That's absurd! They'll be looking for us. We can't go back there, not till we have a better idea what's going on."

"Spike, we only have a few hours till sun up so, either we need a car with blacked out windows, or we'll have to call it a night soon. There's no way I can drive that," she indicated the bike.

He thought it over for a minute.

"True, in my baby we could get farther. I suppose Lou won't know which underground garage I park it at. But we're not going to L.A." he told her, firmly.

"Pleeeeease," she begged in her best little girl voice as she purposely looked up at him through her eyelashes.

He sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

He stomped off to pay for the gas. When he came back a few minutes later he thrust out his hand under her face. He was holding a pair of knit gloves, the price tag still on them.

"You want my coat?" he asked.

Buffy was stunned by the gesture. She hadn't told Spike she was cold. At that moment the five dollar pair of gloves seemed like the best present she'd ever been give.

"Yes, please. If you don't need it."

He gave her a look that said, 'Are you daft. Bloody vampire here,' as he shrugged off his coat. As he did so he winced. Buffy once again noticed that Spike looked like he'd been in a pretty serious fight. She wondered again what had happened in the club, and how she had escaped unscathed.

"What happened, anyway?" she asked. "You don't look like the winner. And don't, 'You should see the other guy,' me."

"You were the other guy." When she just looked at him blankly, he continued. "Lou put you under some kind of obedience spell. When I tried to save you, he ordered you to kill me."

'That would explain why he looks so beat up and I don't,' thought Buffy. 'He couldn't hit back, not with the chip.'

"So what broke the spell?" she asked, intrigued.

He chuckled. "Your fist. I managed to get Lou behind me, and you to swing at me. Ducked out of the way, and when he went down, you snapped out of it."

He was obviously very proud of himself, and Buffy was rather impressed. He'd managed to fight her off and plan all at once. Of course, Spike was the best vampire fighter she knew. If he hadn't been, she would have dusted him long ago.

"So let's get going. Time's a wasting," he insisted.

She nodded, and got on the bike behind him. This time the ride wasn't as bad. The gloves kept her hands warm and Spike's jacket was no longer painfully flicking against her legs. Not to mention that now she could press her cheek against his cotton clad back. It only took a few minutes for her cheek to warm him and she felt content to let him get them back to Sunnydale.

Still she was glad when they finally got to the DeSoto. She'd never have thought she could be so happy to see Spike's old car. He insisted that she get in the back and sleep until they got to L.A. He even let her keep his coat to use as a blanket.

Even so, her sleep was fitful. The events of the night still haunted her. She wasn't used to being rescued. She was the rescuer. She couldn't help but wonder how Xander and Willow did it time and time again.





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