Shades of Gray



Chapter 1 – Woman’s Worth


“Buffy, are you sure you don’t want me to walk with you?”

“Willow, I told you,” Buffy said with a bright smile, trying to put her friend at ease. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going to the library. It’s not like there are strange men hiding in the bushes, waiting to jump out at me.”

“Maybe not, but it’s dark, and I’d feel better if you don’t go alone.”

“And I’m not going to make you sit there and wait while I try and find everything for this paper. It’s not a big deal, Wills. Go home and get some rest and I’ll call you in the morning.”

With a heavy sigh, the redhead finally nodded her acceptance causing Buffy’s formerly fake smile to turn genuine. “Okay. Good luck on your paper.”

“Thanks,” Buffy replied, waving her friend away as she walked in the opposite direction.

‘Okay,’ she thought, clutching at the strap of her book-bag as if it was going to fend off every creature of the night that crossed her path. ‘Now it’s time for the fun trip down the dimly lit path to sit for hours in the stuffy library and inhale God only knows what.’

Following the dimly lit path, she nervously glanced over her shoulder. What she had told Willow was true- it would be ridiculous for her to make her friend wait while she finished a paper. But a nineteen-year-old girl, walking alone on a nearly deserted college campus, didn’t make her feel much better.

Shrugging off the uncomfortable feeling that was slowly creeping up her spine, Buffy continued toward the library, refusing to be one of those paranoid girls who looked over their shoulder with every rustle of the wind in the trees or when twigs snap. Even if said twig sounded like a gunshot going off in the silence. She wasn’t the ditzy blonde type. Not anymore, anyway.

Nearly coming to a stop a moment later, Buffy got the distinct impression that she was being watched. ‘Stop it. You’re not scared of weird noises. Little Buffy has grown up… Okay, that was definitely something.’

She didn’t want to look over her shoulder. Images popped into her head in a split second and it seemed as if every single killer from every single horror movie flashed through her mind. It didn’t help to ease her slight panic.

‘But it’s better to look over my shoulder and see the psychotic killer before he’s about to attack me, right?’ she asked herself, slowing down slightly. ‘I mean, there’s always that fateful moment when they like to play with their prey, and that’s when you run up to them and kick them in the balls. Okay, running up to a killer wouldn’t be the wisest thing.’

Finally taking a deep breath, she hesitantly looked around, unable to resist the strong urge to look over her shoulder. Scanning the shadows for a moment, she sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“Stop being paranoid, Summers,” she muttered to herself, turning around to continue walking toward the library… and nearly screaming when she collided with a strong chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man said with a friendly smile, grasping her shoulders to keep her upright. “I was just wondering if you could help me.”

“Um… yeah… sure,” Buffy replied, uneasily trying to step away from him, craving the distance she had a moment ago. ‘Deranged mental patient, psycho stalker, or lost frat boy?’

“I was wondering if you could tell me where White Hall is?”

“White Hall?” she repeated, looking at him with a skeptical expression. “There’s not a White Hall on campus.”

“No wonder I can’t find it,” he said with a friendly smile that Buffy immediately didn’t trust. Friendly smiles belonged to distrustful people. There was never any genuine warmth to them.

“Yeah, well… sorry I couldn’t help,” she said, making a move to walk around him. Jumping slightly when he blocked her path, Buffy took a deep breath. “I really need to go now.”

“I know you, don’t I?” he asked, tilting his head to study her, still keeping the easy smile on his face.

“I don’t think so.”

“Buffy?” he said, snapping his fingers as if he just remembered her name. “Buffy Summers?”

“H-how do y-”

Every nerve ending in her body seemed to explode at the same time, screaming ‘danger’ in flashing neon letters. Buffy wasn’t aware of anything as he forcefully pressed a soaked cloth to her mouth, nearly smothering her. All self-defense moves that she’d ever learned seemed to fly out the window, and the sound of her own muffled scream filled her ears.

Everything soon became foggy, and that unfocused area when she knew she should be terrified surfaced for a moment as she clawed at his arm, feeling the blood that her nails had drawn as it flowed down his arm. All at once, everything seemed to close in around her as the fight slowly drained out of her body, leaving Buffy in a hazy, dark area where she didn’t know to be afraid.

* * * * *

Feeling a sudden jolt, Buffy fought to open her eyes, trying not to panic as the memories assaulted her. She felt sluggish as she tried to move her arms from the uncomfortable position, becoming more aware of what was happening when she was lifted into a pair of strong arms and carried toward a building.

Trying to get her eyes to focus, she blearily looked around, seeing that they were walking into an old house, surrounded by trees.

“Sorry I had to knock you out,” the man said with a shrug as he carried her up the steps of the front porch, not sounding apologetic at all. “I didn’t think you’d want to do this willingly and… well, it wouldn’t do us any good if you knew how to get away.”

“Let go of me,” Buffy said groggily, weakly pushing at his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Can’t let you go,” he said in an indifferent expression. “You’re worth a little too much right now.”

‘Worth?’ Buffy thought to herself, trying to see what was happening as they walked through the door, cursing herself for not being able to understand as she fought through the fog that seemed to have settled around her brain. ‘Worth is definitely not a good word,’ she thought. ‘I’m not worth anything. Well, I’m worth something, but monetary value? Not so much. Damn it, why can’t I focus on anything? It’s like a fog has settled around my brain.’

“What the hell did you do to me?” she asked, slowly regaining enough control to realize that her hands were bound tightly with a rope.

“Just some chloroform. No permanent damage to that pretty face of yours.”

The last thing Buffy wanted was to get a compliment from her kidnapper. Gritting her teeth, she began thrashing around in his arms, doing what she could to cause as much damage to the man as possible. “Let me go!”

“Whoa, what’s the deal with breaking the sound barrier?”

Turning toward the new voice as they entered the house, Buffy looked at the other man, suddenly feeling a tremor of fear go through her. The man looked friendly enough, but that didn’t mean anything, since he obviously wasn’t coming to help her. And now the odds were two against one.

“Can’t help it, Gunn. She’s not exactly too happy with her new role.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Buffy asked as he dropped her on the floor in an undignified heap. Wincing at the sudden change, she quickly pushed herself off the floor and didn’t give herself a chance to think as the pointed toe of her boot slammed into her kidnapper’s knee, sending him falling to the floor.

Screaming in frustration when the other man grabbed her from behind, she thrashed in his arms, desperate to get free.

“What the hell is going on?!”

The power and force of the voice caused Buffy to briefly stop moving before she renewed her struggle, trying not to let the fear overwhelm her at the fact that there were now three men in the room.

“Can’t help it,” Gunn said through gritted teeth, gesturing to his friend who was slowly getting to his feet with an angry expression on his face. “She already took out Angel- you try and handle her.”

“Angel?” Buffy repeated, still struggling as she looked smugly at the man on the floor. “Girly name, much?” she said, trying not to let her fear show.

Seeing the blonde walk toward her, Buffy jerked hard against the man, trying to free her arms as the other man came to stand in front of her, nearly pressing his body against hers, looking at her with a mixture of emotions.

“Personal space,” she spat out hatefully. “You should really look into the concept.”

“So this is her,” he said in a drawn-out British accent, ignoring her previous statement, and looking as if he was studying her.

Gritting her teeth when he openly appraised her before a slow smile spread on his lips, Buffy desperately wished for her hands to be free, having the sudden and intense desire to give him a broken nose.

Gasping when she felt herself propelled forward, Buffy renewed her fight to get free, nearly groaning when his arms wrapped around her and lifted her off the ground.

“Get the hell off me, you son of a-”

Her muffled voice traveled through the air as his hand clamped over her mouth, making it clear to everyone what she was saying before a cry of pain sounded in the large room.

Dropping her to the floor and clutching his bleeding hand to his chest, Buffy turned around to see the damage her teeth had inflicted before setting her jaw when the remaining men each grabbed an arm.

“What the hell do you want?” she cried, her rage outweighing her fear as she looked at the blonde, leveling him with an intense stare.

“You stupid bint,” he growled.

“Get off me! Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Let me go!”

Taking a step forward, the man clenched his jaw as he looked in her eyes. “Shut…up.”

Narrowing her eyes as she studied him, Buffy tilted her head to the side, feeling nothing but hatred course through her. “Fuck…off.”

Gasping in surprise when she felt her upper body propelled to the side, she glared as she was pulled upright, looking at the man who had just slapped her. Tightening her jaw when she saw the smirk on his face, she refused to let him think he’d hurt her. It did little more than sting, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that it bothered her.

“Care to say that again, princess?” he asked in a threatening tone.

“No,” she said, her eyes sparking with repressed anger. “But I stick to my original statement.”

Suppressing the smile at her insolence, he turned his focus to Angel. “Any problems, mate?”

“None at all.”

All eyes turned to Buffy as she snorted, shaking her head at the situation.

“Care to say something, blondie?”

“You’re one to talk, Captain Peroxide,” she muttered, rolling her eyes when she saw his jaw tighten. “Fine. Yeah, I’ve got something to say. If you’re going to kidnap someone, or more accurately- send someone else to do it- you might want the lunkhead to know what he’s doing.”

Feeling her kidnapper’s hold on her tighten, she shot a glare over at him.

“Got you here, didn’t it?” he asked.

“And let me ask you… Angel, was it?” she asked, sarcasm lacing her voice. “Was the ‘White Hall’ reference planned?”

“White Hall?” the blonde muttered, looking at his friend before rolling his eyes. “Bloody hell, you can’t even remember Westin Hall?”

“What’s the big deal? I got her here, didn’t I?”

“The only reason you got me here was because you said my name.”

Rolling his eyes in frustration, Buffy watched as the blonde grabbed her arm and began dragging her toward a staircase. Her eyes widened when she saw where they were going.

‘Oh God, this can’t be happening.’

“No,” she cried, desperately trying to pull away from his strong grip.

“Relax, Goldilocks. Not gonna hurt you, just taking you up to your room.”

“I don’t want a room,” she said, still trying to pull away from him and feeling her skin bruising as his hold tightened. “You can’t keep me here! What the hell do you want?”

“Money,” he said lightly.

“I don’t have any money!”

“Beg to differ, Princess,” he said, turning a corner at the top of the stairs and leading her toward a door at the end of the hall. “And we’re going to find out how much you’re worth.”

Chapter 2 – Unexpected Surprises


“Why are you doing this?” Buffy asked, wincing when she was roughly pushed into the bedroom.

“Because I can,” he replied with a smirk as she whirled around to face him with a glare.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as he tilted his head to study her for a moment.

“Spike,” he finally replied.

“Spike?” she repeated with a snort, trying to cover up how nervous she really was. “That’s a name?”

“Better than Buffy,” he replied with a slight growl in his voice.

“Says you.”

Glaring at her for a moment, a slow smirk spread on his lips as he shook his head, noticing that she was subtly trying to work on the ropes that bound her wrists. Kicking the door closed, he advanced on her, seeing her eyes widen before he spun her around and untied her.

Not giving him a chance to think, Buffy slammed her elbow into Spike’s stomach, spinning around to smash her fist into nose before running for the door. Turning the knob, a small noise was ripped from her throat when the door didn’t move.

“No,” she whispered, struggling with the door, gasping when she found herself slammed into it.

“Now, you listen to me,” his voice growled at her, sending shivers up and down her spine as his breath brushed against her ear. “In case you haven’t figured it out, you’re now a hostage. You belong to me.”

Fighting the tears in her eyes when his hold relaxed on her, Buffy didn’t bother to turn around and face him, letting her nails gently scrape along the wood of the door. “What are you going to do?” she whispered, feeling her chin tremble.

Frowning as he stared at her back, Spike resisted the urge to close the distance between them and reassure her. Pushing ‘William’ away, he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until she hesitantly glanced over her shoulder, looking at him with a cold gaze.

“What do you think, pet?” he asked, keeping his smirk firmly in place. “That we kidnapped you to be our sex slave? Not bloody likely.”

“As if you could get close enough,” she hissed, spinning around to face him with fire flashing in her eyes. “Now, what the hell do you want?”

“I already told you, Goldilocks,” he replied in a bored tone. “Money. Plain and simple. You’re worth a lot.”

“I don’t have any money!” she cried, resisting the urge to give him a bloody nose, knowing that she would probably get one in return.

“Maybe not,” he said with a shrug. “But your father has more than enough.”

“My father?” Buffy whispered in confusion. “What do you know about my father?”

* * * * *

5 Years Ago


Glancing over his shoulder, Spike gave his friends a nervous look as they walked through the darkened halls.

“I really don’t think this is worth it,” he muttered to Gunn, shaking his head.

“Come on, man,” Gunn replied quietly, looking through the halls. “You know this guy is a prick. He probably won’t even notice it’s missing.”

“I highly doubt it,” Spike said skeptically.

“Will you two shut up,” Angel snapped, walking up behind them.

Whirling around to face him, Spike glared at the taller man. “Who’s running this show, Peaches?” he asked in a menacing tone.

Narrowing his eyes on his blonde friend, Angel slowly looked away. “This is Xander’s thing,” he muttered under his breath.

“Do you really want Xander to be in charge?” he asked in a low voice so their friends couldn’t overhear.

“Let’s just get this done,” Angel finally said, walking to the front of the group.

“Xander,” Spike called softly, looking around the hallway. “Which one is it?”

“Up here,” the brunette replied, gesturing to the double doors at the end.

Preparing to break into the office, Spike was surprised when he reached for the doorknob and it opened without resistance.

“Alright,” he murmured in bewilderment before turning to face his friends. “Let’s get in, get out, and be on our way. Should have done this on my own,” he muttered to himself, opening the door to allow Xander into the office. “Where is it?” he asked, looking around the darkened room.

“It’s over…”

Glancing at his friend when he stopped talking, Spike noticed the shocked look on his face. Looking over his shoulder, he felt his blood run cold when he saw the man sitting calmly behind the desk, his hands folded over his stomach.

“I thought you might be showing up,” he said with a sadistic smile.

“Why’s that?” Spike asked, narrowing his eyes.

“When you plan on carrying out a foolproof plan, you might want to steer clear of discussing it in public. I have eyes and ears all over this city.”

“So, you caught us,” Spike replied in a bored tone. “Guess our plan didn’t work out. We’ll just be off, then.”

“I don’t think so,” he said with the same smile as he stood up. “You break into my building, into my office, to steal a priceless piece of art and you think I’m just going to let you walk out and be on your way? I don’t think so. The police are on their way.”

“Can’t say a breaking and entering charge has me trembling in my boots,” Spike said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No…but when they hear how you threatened me and I had to defend myself, it might raise the stakes a little bit.”

“Threaten you?” Gunn jumped in. “We’ve barely said two words to you. You’re the one keeping us here.”

“What do you mean ‘defend yourself’?” Spike asked, narrowing his eyes as the man stood from his chair.

Everyone took an automatic step back when he immediately pulled a gun from the desk. As if an additional twelve inches of space would slow the bullet enough to get away from it.

“Just what are you planning, mate?” he asked.

“Like I said… I have to defend myself.”

* * * * *

Present Day


“So, that’s it?” Buffy asked skeptically. “You’re angry because my dad caught your little attempted robbery?”

“No,” Spike replied with a cold glare, taking a step closer to her. “I’m pissed off as hell because your dear ole da decided to have all of us locked away for five years… after he murdered my friend.”

Chapter 3 – Getting Even


“Wh-what do you mean- murdered?” Buffy asked, looking at Spike as if he’d grown another head.

“You heard me,” he said in a low voice, reaching out and grabbing the hair at the base of her neck to maintain eye contact with her. “Sent us to prison for some trumped up charges after he killed my friend and claimed it was self-defense.”

“That’s not my fault,” she said in a soft voice, flinching from the pain in her scalp as he stared down at her in contempt.

“Maybe not,” he whispered, leaning in close to her. “But he took something from me…now I’m taking something from him.”

“You touch me and I’ll kill you,” she said, her jaw clenching when he smirked.

“I’m already touching you,” he said, watching as his other hand played along her shoulder before traveling lower.

Forgetting herself for a moment, Buffy closed her eyes. Realizing a second later what she was doing, she quickly swatted his hand away, glaring at him when he chuckled and took a step away from her.

“I’m still not clear on how I fit into this.”

“You must be a natural blonde,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “Have you not heard me the first few times that I’ve made it painfully obvious? Money, Princess. You’re a ransom. Nothing more than a piece of paper.”

“And you’re expecting my father to pay to get me back?” she asked incredulously.

“That’s usually what the definition of ‘ransom’ entails,” Spike replied suspiciously, narrowing his eyes on her as Buffy shook her head, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“He’s not going to pay to get me back. You’re deluded if you think he would pay a few bucks for me, let alone whatever it might be that you’re asking for.”

“You’re his daughter,” he said quietly, frowning when he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes. “He’ll pay to get his own flesh and blood back under his roof, safe and sound.”

“I’m nothing to him,” she said, looking up at Spike and leveling him with a glare. “I’m just another of his objects to show off at social functions. Oh, he’ll make the appropriate noise about wanting me to come home and being the determined father who will bring his daughter’s kidnappers to justice…but honestly, he’ll be secretly relieved that I’m gone.”

“And why should I believe you?” he asked, titling his head to study her.

“Fine,” she replied with a slight nod. “Don’t believe me. Find it out on your own. But when he refuses to pay whatever ransom you’re asking, you might want to think of a Plan B.”

“And why are you telling me this?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I don’t want to wind up dead in a ditch somewhere just because you don’t get what you want. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we,” he replied after a moment, walking toward the door, pausing as he unlocked it with a key. “Bathroom’s over there, clothes in the closet. We’ll bring you something to eat in a little while. There’s no way to escape, but I’m sure you’ll knock yourself out trying to find a way out.”

Walking through the door, Spike practically slammed it as he clenched his jaw. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath, twisting the two deadbolts before walking down the stairs.

“How’s our favorite hostage?” Gunn asked from his position on the couch as he flipped through the TV channels.

Seeing Angel walk out of the kitchen, Spike stayed quiet as his gaze traveled back and forth between the two men.

“She says her father won’t pay,” he muttered after a moment, earning the undivided attention of his friends. “Said they don’t get along and he’ll be glad to be rid of her.”

“Well, of course she’s gonna say that, Spike,” Angel said with a smile as he shook his head. “She’s not going to say that he’ll pay anything we want.”

“Isn’t that what most people say?” Gunn asked, looking at Angel. “Wouldn’t she want to get out of the situation as fast as possible and tell us that she can get us anything?”

All three men exchanged glances, each asking their own silent questions.

Slowly closing his eyes, Spike took a deep breath as his jaw clenched. ‘Is this even worth it?’

* * * * *

Cracking his neck an hour later to try and ease the tension that was building, Spike slowly unlocked the door to Buffy’s room. Listening to the loud creak as it opened, his eyes widened when he took in the room.

Walking into the room, he angrily kicked the door shut, his eyes flashing as he took in the interior. All of the bedding was in a pile on the floor, and the mattresses lay haphazardly to the side of the bed frame. A splintered chair was in a pile beneath the boarded up window, the wood showing the deep scratches and grooves from the force that was inflicted.

His anger rose as he took in the pile of books beneath the overturned bookshelf. The drawers of the dresser and nightstands were all pulled out, their contents strewn around the room. The closet doors were thrown open, and Spike didn’t bother looking in there on his way to the bathroom door.

Not giving his actions a second thought, he slammed his foot into the door, watching as pieces of wood broke away from the doorframe, revealing a startled young woman bandaging her hands at the sink.

Turning toward him with wide-eyes, Buffy felt her heart rate pick up when she saw the pure rage on his face. She waited for something to happen.

Anything.

No footsteps. No yelling. Just a void of nothing.

Reaching next to her to pick up the discarded sweater she had been wearing over her camisole, she moved to cover herself up with it, gasping when Spike was suddenly right next to her. Ripping the sweater out of her grasp, he threw it down on the floor, grabbing her shoulders in his hands.

“Son of a-”

Cut off as he shoved her against the wall with his full strength, causing her to wince when she was crushed against the unforgiving surface, Buffy glared at him.

“What did you think?” he asked in a low voice. “You’d trash the entire room and I wouldn’t blink an eye?”

“Didn’t really give a shit about what you’d think,” she replied angrily, narrowing her eyes on him. “I was trying to find a way out of this hell hole.”

“You’re not going to find it,” he growled, his hot breath against her ear. “The only way out of here is when your dear old dad decides to put up the cash for you.”

Finally looking away, Buffy clenched her jaw, not wanting to think about the fact that her father wouldn’t pay. What would happen when they actually realized it and she was merely an albatross to them?

“Come on,” Spike said, grabbing her wrist and roughly pulling her toward the door.

Biting her tongue to keep from asking where they were going, Buffy swallowed her gasp of surprise when he threw her down on one of the mattresses that was still laying on the floor, smirking as he admired her taut body, accentuated by the lace-covered top she was wearing.

Wishing that she was wearing anything but what she was wearing, Buffy avoided his eyes as he kept studying her.

Arching an eyebrow, Spike held out one hand, motioning for her not to move. “Stay,” he said in a calculated tone, smiling when he got the desired result.

“Stay?! Like I’m some kind of fucking dog? You think you can just-”

Her heartbeat skyrocketed when Spike pushed her to the mattress, easily covering her body with his own.

“Think I can just…what?” he whispered, holding her arms above her head and pinning her wrists in place with one hand while the other grazed along her ribcage. “Do this?” he whispered in her ear, mildly surprised when he noticed her eyes close. “Or maybe this?” he murmured, traveling even higher, smiling when he felt her tense and immediately try to buck him off of her.

“Mmm, just the way I like it, kitten,” he breathed.

“What? You like raping women?” she retorted, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

Immediately releasing her wrists and climbing to his feet, Spike’s jaw clenched as he looked at her. “Don’t…move.”

Breathing a sigh of relief that he didn’t push her any further, Buffy eagerly complied with his wishes, watching as he disappeared into the closet, reappearing a moment later with a long length of rope.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered, scooting back as he approached her.

“Making sure you act like a good little girl from now on,” he replied with an arched eyebrow.

“You think I’ll just let you tie me up so you can do God only knows what? I don’t think so.”

“Step down off your high horse, princess,” he scoffed. “This is for the well-being of my home. If you think I’m going to let you trash it on a daily basis, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Punctuating his statement by grabbing her wrists, Spike easily held her in place while she tried to squirm away from his grasp. Looping the rope around and in between her wrists, he secured it in a tight knot behind her back, smiling at his handiwork.

“Now, if I can just find a gag, you might actually be the perfect woman.”

Drifting back and forth between anger and flattery, Buffy finally settled on anger.

“You son of a-”

“Thanks for proving my point, Goldilocks. Now, you be a good little girl and behave yourself and maybe I’ll bring you some dinner later. After all, wouldn’t want to have to get frisky and tie you to a chair or the bed frame, now do we?”

Giving him a glare in response, Buffy narrowed her eyes as she watched him take out his keys and let himself out of the room.

Closing her eyes as her emotions took over, she tried not to let the traitorous tears fall, angry at herself when a few slipped free. ‘You won’t let him beat you.’

Chapter 4 – Daddy Dearest


Frantically working on the ropes, Buffy tried to keep her anger firmly in place, battling the tears as she worked. After being locked in the room for hours and battling exhaustion, she was trying her hardest not to let fatigue and hunger weigh her down.

‘I’m not a victim. I’m a survivor. And I’ll be damned if they break me.’

Clenching her jaw when the sound of the locks turning filled the room, she froze when the door opened, not revealing the blonde that she anticipated.

“What the hell do you want?” she asked angrily, tightening her lips when Angel smiled, looking her up and down and letting his gaze rest on the cleavage that the camisole allowed. She really wished she had her sweater.

“Just came to tell you the good news. Your daddy got word that you’re not safe and sound anymore, and apparently there’s going to be a news broadcast in a few minutes.”

“So?”

“So…we figured you might want to come downstairs and watch.”

“Watch my father put on some bullshit show? Sure. What the hell.”

Flinching when Angel approached, she tensed when he easily lifted her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

“I like my women tied up,” he said with a smile in his voice, slapping Buffy on the butt and letting his hand linger there as he carried her into the hallway.

Struggling in his arms, she felt revulsion flood through her body, shuddering at the feeling of him so close to her. “Get your hands off me!” she screeched, crying out in pain when he repeated the motion, leaving her backside stinging with the force of the slap.

Biting back the tears as he carried her down the stairs, she set her jaw in a firm line when he threw her down on the couch. Looking around the room, she took a deep breath, seeing Gunn glance over at Angel before turning back to the TV. Hazarding a glance at Spike, she was surprised to see him with a raised eyebrow as he stared at his friend.

“Problem, mate?” he asked with an edge to his voice.

“No problem,” Angel replied. “Just wanted to show her who’s boss.”

Turning toward her for a moment, Spike seemed to study her before turning back to the television, sitting down next to her on the couch.

“Ready to see Father Dearest?” he asked.

“What difference does it make?” Buffy muttered, staring blankly at the screen. She noted how it was amazing how her stomach could truly tie itself into knots when she saw a family member who could be her only salvation- and she knew that he wouldn’t be.

Watching as he walked out of his office building, unable to tear her eyes away, she swallowed hard, biting her lip.

“Thank you all for coming out today,” he said in a properly somber tone. “I’ve called you here to assist me in a family crisis. I have recently gotten word that my daughter Elizabeth Summers was abducted sometime late last night. We don’t know any details at this time. All we know is that we should be expecting a ransom note later today.”

The screen flashed to her high school picture, showing off a sun-kissed tan and highlighted hair from two years earlier.

“Nice plan, Dad,” she muttered, shaking her head, resisting the sardonic smile that tried to make its way on her lips when she realized just how planned this must have been to have someone give her picture to the news stations.

“What was that?” Gunn asked, looking over at her with a curious expression.

“Most grieving parents hold up a picture of their child,” she said softly. “He doesn’t get that personal.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, but stayed quiet at the observation.

No one spoke as Hank’s image flashed on the screen. “Please…whoever has my baby girl, please bring Lizzie home,” he said, looking into the camera.

“Lizzie?” Angel asked in confusion.

“He never liked the name Buffy,” she murmured, looking away from the screen, not wanting to see the sickening sight of her father playing it up for the cameras. “Lizzie is his own creation.”

“We’re offering a reward for anyone who can lead to the safe return of my daughter.”

“Well, this just got interesting,” Spike said, leaning forward, propping his elbows on his legs with a smile that chilled Buffy. “We could always scrap the idea of a ransom and take the reward,” he continued with a raised eyebrow, looking at his friends.

Looking down at her lap, she shifted uneasily as the ropes bit into her wrists.

“Could be good,” Angel said with a nod.

“I don’t like it,” Gunn spoke up, earning the attention of everyone in the room. “He didn’t specify the amount of money. And what if he’s planning on us doing that and he’s ready to catch us that way?” he said, putting a voice to Buffy’s thoughts- unfortunately.

Her father wasn’t stupid- he wasn’t one to give up his hard earned cash, even if it was for a living, breathing human being whom he happened to be related to. Buffy wanted to defend the idea of trading her for the reward, but what happened when they ended up with nothing and she was still trapped in this house? Would they kill her? Or would she be subjected to some other fate?

“What do you think?” Spike asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“I’m not here for my opinions,” Buffy said in a cold voice.

“No, but you could be here for more useful purposes,” Angel said with a smile, perusing her body, causing her to unconsciously shy away from him, even though he was leaning against a wall across the room.

“The show’s over- can I go back to my prison now?” she asked, glaring at each man in the room.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Angel said with a leer, making a move to push away from the wall only to pause when Spike stood up.

“I’ll take her.”

‘Why do I feel relief to hear that the other psycho kidnapper is taking me to a locked room?’ she asked herself.

“Come on, Spike…”

“I’ll take her- you stay with her tonight.”

Turning wide eyes to Spike, panic gripped her heart. Buffy was finding it hard to breathe as she looked into his eyes. Not saying anything when he roughly grabbed her arm, she stumbled to keep up with his pace as he led her up the stairs and back into her room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Looks like you were wrong, Goldilocks.”

“What?” she asked in irritation.

“Seems to me you have a father who wants you back.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s not what it should have sounded like! That’s not what a parent sounds like when he’s worried about the well-being of his child! That was a heartless asshole, who is looking for nothing more than a little free publicity. And you know what gives even more publicity? Not the cops getting his daughter back, oh no…the most is gained by the cops finding her body in a ditch somewhere. That’ll keep him in business for years to come! He’ll get all this sympathy for something that didn’t happen directly to him because people will buy into the idea that he’s actually affected by it.”

It was all out of her mouth before she realized what she said. Spike stayed quiet through her tirade, obviously unable to think of anything to say.

She could almost hear the thoughts that must have been running through his head, ‘No parent should feel that way about their child.’ But the sad fact of the world is that it’s not always the case.

“Don’t do that,” she whispered, looking away from his strong gaze.

“Don’t do what?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“Don’t look at me like you’re sympathetic. We both know you don’t give a damn about me.”

“I don’t care for you, Summers, but in spite of what you may think, I’m not a heartless bastard.”

“You’re not?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Then prove it.”

“Don’t have to prove anything,” he said with an edge to his voice.

“No,” she agreed with a slight shrug. “I guess not.”

Clenching his jaw, she could see that his curiosity got the better of him when he briefly glanced at the ceiling. “Bugger it, what is it?”

“Don’t let Angel stay with me tonight,” she said immediately, looking up at him with a pleading gaze.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she whispered. “You say you’re not a heartless bastard, and whether I believe you or not, I have a better feeling about you than him and…please don’t let him in here.”

“You’ll be fine, Buffy.”

Biting her lip as she looked down at the floor, she rapidly blinked away the tears in her eyes.

“Angel’s all talk…he’s not a bad guy,” Spike continued, the uncertainty obvious in his voice. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated, sounding as if he was convincing himself of that fact.

Chapter 5 – If Things Were Different…


Feeling sick to her stomach when the door opened, Buffy did what she could to shrink into the shadows, hating the fact that the man who made her skin crawl would be in the same room, alone with her.

“Here, kitty kitty.”

Closing her eyes in revulsion, she didn’t bother to open them when he turned on the overhead light, picturing the smile that must have been on his face when he saw her lying on one of the mattresses, feigning sleep.

Angel’s all talk…he’s not a bad guy.

Spike’s words echoed through her head, but it did little to dissuade the uneasy feeling that was making itself known.

“Now, now, sleeping is no fun,” he said with a smile in his voice.

Nearly shivering in revulsion when she felt his hand on her thigh, she immediately opened her eyes, sitting up and moving further away from him.

“Don’t touch me,” she said in a strong voice that didn’t sound like her own.

“Or what?” he asked with a cruel smile.

“Anything that touches me, you won’t get back,” Buffy replied, seeing the smile falter for a moment.

Cowering when he pulled back his hand, she lashed out, kicking him sharply in the leg and scrambling to get away, doing what she could with her bound hands.

“You bitch!” Angel yelled, leaping across the bed.

“Is there a problem?”

Breathing a sigh of relief when she heard Gunn’s voice, she didn’t dare take her eyes off of Angel. Gunn was quiet, but he seemed to be the sanest one in the bunch. Hesitantly walking toward the door, she tried to take in calming breaths as Angel and Gunn stared at each other.

“No problem,” Angel said, his voice sounding like a growl.

Seeing Gunn’s gaze redirected at her, she looked up at him, silently pleading with him not to leave.

“Why don’t you go back to your room, Angel,” he said after a moment.

“The hell I will,” he said, sending a shudder through Buffy when he looked at her through cold eyes.

“She’s not here for your amusement,” Gunn replied, not backing down. “Out.”

Apparently deciding that he didn’t want to get into a fight with the taller man, Angel glared at both of them before walking out of the room. Cringing when she heard his door slam a moment later, she turned toward Gunn, trying to offer him a grateful smile when he shut the door.

“Thanks for that.”

“Well, Angel can be a little forceful sometimes.”

“Yeah, noticed that,” she replied bitterly.

“Do you promise to be good?”

Looking up at him with a questioning gaze, her eyes briefly narrowed before she realized what he meant. “I won’t kick you in the shin, if that’s what you mean…unless you deserve it, that is.”

“Fair enough. Turn around.”

Eagerly obliging, she closed her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when her hands were freed after a moment.

Rolling her shoulders to work the tension and soreness out of the muscles, she briefly closed her eyes, happy that she had mobility once again.

“Get some rest,” Gunn said, walking over to the bed and realigning the mattresses from her temper tantrum. Tossing her a blanket and pillow after a moment, he walked over to the recliner in the corner and sat down.

Curling up on the bed, she wasn’t entirely put at ease with having a strange man in the room, but anyone was better than Angel. And Gunn hadn’t done anything to hurt or demean her- he seemed to be the kind of guy who made his own rules when necessary but followed someone else if their plan seemed better.

“We’re not going to do anything to you. We’re not really bad guys.”

Hearing his voice, her eyes immediately snapped open. She didn’t bother to look at him as she spoke. “So all kidnappers are martyrs?”

“Did I say that? I know you must be nervous, and I’m trying to make it a little easier,” he replied.

“Then level with me,” she said, sitting up in the bed and clutching the comforter in white-knuckled hands, her nerves getting the better of her. “When my father doesn’t pay, because he won’t…what happens to me?”

Noticing the pensive look on his face as he looked at the floor, she bit her lip, waiting for his response. “Spike’s the brains of the operation,” he finally said, his voice low and soft in the silent house. “I’m sure he has some kind of plan B, but I haven’t been filled in.”

“So…plan B could be finding my broken and bleeding body in a ditch somewhere?” she asked, feeling her stomach twist itself into knots.

“We’re not going to kill you,” he said, putting her nerves slightly at ease with a kind smile. “I just don’t know what the next plan is.”

“Well, any ideas that might get a little too close on the ‘physical harm to Buffy chart’- can we just steer clear of those?” she asked nervously, relaxing a little bit when Gunn smiled.

“I think that can be arranged. Now, get some rest.”

Feeling moderately at ease for the first time since this awful experience began, she finally let her eyes close, realizing how exhausted she really was.

Buffy didn’t know how long she had been asleep. It was one of those weird feelings, as if she had just closed her eyes, but it could have been hours that had passed. Hearing the door click shut, her body went rigid, worrying that it was Angel coming back for more.

Slowly relaxing when she heard Spike talking to Gunn, she strained to listen, keeping her eyes closed.

“Why are you in here?” Spike asked softly.

“Angel got a little too overzealous…heard him when I was going to bed. Came in and she seemed pretty shook up, so I told Angel to take a hike and stayed.”

Listening to the silence fill the room, she could practically feel Spike’s eyes on her.

“What happened?”

“Not really sure,” Gunn replied. “Buffy apparently kicked him after he did something that she didn’t like.”

“Violent little chit.”

That nearly had her kicking the crap out of a second man that night. Regaining her composure, she kept her eyes closed, trying to keep her breathing even.

“Go on back to your room, mate. I’ll finish out the night.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Spike said. “It’ll be fine.”

Listening to Gunn leave the room, her brow furrowed when she heard Spike moving around in the bathroom, flipping on the light after a moment and casting a beam of light across the bed. Her curiosity almost got the better of her, but she managed to keep her eyes closed.

Hearing him walk out of the bathroom, she tensed when he took one of her hands in his. Unable to resist any longer, she opened her eyes, meeting his strong gaze with her own.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a soft whisper.

Seeing him hold up the bottle of peroxide and fresh bandages, a frown came over her face.

“I didn’t think you had noticed, considering you were too busy tying me up to pay attention.”

“You did this to yourself,” he said softly, his voice sounding almost paternal as he scolded her. “I never told you to tear up the bloody room.”

Not bothering to respond as he tore off her pathetic excuse for bandages, Buffy watched as he gently disinfected the cuts on her hands. Reapplying the gauze with such care, she studied him for a long moment. A crease formed between his eyebrows as he worked, his lip forming a slight pout in concentration. For the first time since this nightmare began, she actually noticed how handsome he was. If things had been different, she definitely would have noticed this guy in a bar or a club.

If things were different…

Was it really less than twenty-four hours ago that she was walking along campus, talking to Willow?

It felt like a lifetime.

No wonder she was starving.

Looking up at the sound of her stomach growling, Spike gave her a soft smile. “Not much in the way of cooking, but I guess I could find you something.”

“I guess that would be the only perk of being a hostage- getting waited on hand and foot.”

‘Bad Buffy! You will not flirt with your kidnapper…even if he is a hottie.’

“I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a soft smile, standing up and walking out of the room, locking the door behind him.

Sitting in silence for a moment, Buffy stared at her freshly bandaged hands before she slowly stood up and wandered around the room.

Coming to a decision, she lifted the bookshelf into an upright position and began re-shelving the books. If she was going to have to live in this hellhole, it might as well be a little more comfortable.

‘And I did kinda demolish it to begin with.’

Finishing the task at hand, she turned toward the door when the lock turned once again. Seeing Spike walk in with a few sandwiches and water bottles, her stomach growled in response.

“Turning into a happy little homemaker, I see,” he said with a smirk.

Snorting in response, she got to her feet, catching the water bottle he threw at her, hiding the wince as the pressure hit a bandaged cut on her hand. “You wish.”

“You do seem to have a knack for destruction,” he continued, looking around the room that was still on the demolished side.

Unable to stop the slight grin on my lips, she nodded. “I’m nothing if not productive.”

Spike smiled slightly as he set the food on the bed, gesturing toward the plate while he took a drink from his own water bottle.

Hesitantly picking up a sandwich from the tray, she took a bite, almost as if she was tasting it experimentally. Looking up and meeting his gaze a moment later, she tilted her head to study him. “What happened to you?”

“What do you mean, pet?” he asked, nervously avoiding her gaze.

“There had to be something that drove you to this. And I don’t just mean your best friend being murdered in front of your eyes because that would make anyone…a little nuts.”

“Still not sure I’m following you around that bend,” he said, looking down at his water.

“What happened to the guy who lost his job and wanted to pull a pretty harmless theft…and led him to be the guy who could hit women?”

Raising his eyes to hers, she was surprised to see the remorse in his gaze. Crossing the room, she half trembled/half shuddered when his hand came up to ghost over the slight bruise on her cheek.

“That was...”

Spike trailed off, clenching his jaw as he jerked his hand away from her. Buffy tilted her head to study him.

“Can’t make up excuses for it. For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”

‘To forgive or not to forgive?’

Bottom line- it was always better to have a friend than an enemy. Especially when this ‘friend’ holds the key to whether she ever saw the light of day.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, looking down at the bed with a sigh before narrowing her eyes as a thought occurred to her. “Don’t do it again.”

Spike nodded, sitting down in the chair, propping his arms up on his knees. Deciding to put all of her eggs in one basket, she hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, looking over at him.

“I think it’s only fair that I should know…what happens when my father doesn’t pay?”

“He’ll pay,” Spike said, sounding as if he was convincing himself of that fact.

Turning her head slightly as she thought of what he said, her heart jumped into her throat. “You have no idea what happens next, do you? You just jumped into this little plan and didn’t take the time to think out all of the details.”

“What do you care?” he asked, his gaze snapping up to hers. “You want us to get the money now?”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t give a shit about you, my father, or the money. I just want out of here. I want to go home.”

“It hasn’t even been a day,” he responded with a heavy sigh. “Give it a while…your dad will see that he should pay and he’ll…”

“Yeah,” she replied, jumping up from her position on the bed and walking across the room, looking through the slats in the boarded up window and staring at the moonlight that was streaming through. “Keep trying to convince yourself of that fact.”

Jumping when she felt his hand on her arm, she slowly turned toward him. Her eyes widened when she saw what looked like compassion in his eyes.

“Look…we never wanted to scare you. This was never about you. It was always about your dad…you understand that, right?”

“What difference does it make whether I understand it?” she asked quietly, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “I’m apparently not getting out of here until you get your precious money, meaning that I’m never getting out of here.”

Not wanting to see any expression on his face, no matter what it was, she turned away from him, hugging her arms around her body, wondering how she could make it through this.

The situation and conditions could definitely be worse, but she was still being held captive, against her will, and there was no telling what tomorrow would bring.

Buffy woke up late in the afternoon the following day, her whole body feeling somewhat sore. Looking at her bandaged hands, she sighed, careful to clench her fists as she felt how much pain the cuts were causing her. She looked around the room and saw Spike sitting in a corner, fast asleep, looking content.

‘I’m surprised he didn’t tie me down again,’ she thought, studying him. ‘Maybe he has an ounce of humanity in him, after all.’ Slowly sitting up, she looked around the room more, her eyes settling on the now rickety-looking bookcase. Buffy stood up and quietly crossed the room, scouring through the books she had re-shelved and grabbing one that sounded interesting.

Spike woke up ten minutes later and looked around, a bit disoriented, before his gaze settled on her, still flipping through the book she had chosen.

“You know, there are better books than that,” he said quietly, stretching as he stood up.

“It sounded kind of sexy,” she said with a shrug, looking at him to see his amused expression. “I’m bored, and since I don’t often have free time, I might as well catch up on some light-reading.”

“Well, D.H. Lawrence is a good choice, then,” he replied, looking at his watch. “Want something to eat? It’s past lunchtime, but I might be able to scrounge up something.”

“Sure,” she said quietly, reading once again. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up from the page, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’m just surprised that you didn’t destroy something else while I slept,” he said, smirking. “Or that you didn’t tie me to a chair and torture me somehow.”

“Well, the day is still young,” she mumbled, and he walked out, chuckling.

Buffy continued reading, and when he returned minutes later with more sandwiches and water, she graciously accepted what he handed her. Frowning when he sat beside her on the bed to eat, she tilted her head to look at him.

“Are we lunch buddies now?” she asked, looking at him while he shrugged.

“Angel’s watching some hockey game, and Gunn is out getting more food,” Spike answered. “I figured I might as well stay in here.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain why you’re sitting next to me,” she pointed out, and he scoffed, standing up and moving to the chair in the corner.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he replied sharply. “I thought we were trying to be civil today, but apparently you have other plans.”

“Being civil isn’t the same thing as being friends,” she said, opening her water bottle.

“Don’t want to be friends with you,” he said sternly, glaring at the young woman. “Just trying to keep the hostage from going ballistic in here and doing even more damage.”

“Well, maybe if you let me out more, I wouldn’t feel the need to destroy stuff,” Buffy suggested, a slight bit of hope in her tone. He seemed to ponder it for a moment before sighing.

“I suppose we could let you come downstairs once a day or something,” he replied. “Not for any long amount of time, but it might be possible.” He looked at her and tilted his head. “That is, if you learn to mind me more.”

“Fine, I’ll be Miss Susie Sunshine,” she said, pasting a fake smile on her face. He scoffed slightly and drank some of his water.

“You’re an interesting bird, aren’t you?” he asked, watching as she shrugged.

“I’d be a lot more interesting if I wasn’t trapped in this house with three strangers who are using me to get money from my jerk of a father,” she said, looking down. “He may be a complete bastard sometimes, but he’s not stupid, Spike- he won’t pay up unless he has a damn good reason to. Getting his daughter back doesn’t mean anything to him- he gets off on publicity. Like I said yesterday, if I wind up dead, he’d be fine with it. My fate means nothing to him, and if it’s a matter of me returning safely and paying money to see that happen, he’ll just as soon let me die- he won’t part with his precious money.”

“We’ll see,” Spike said, standing up and heading to the door.

“A part of you believes what I’m saying, don’t you?” she asked, noticing the look of indecision on his face. “You know he’s not going to give you guys any money, Spike.”

“We’ll see,” he repeated with more conviction, opening the door and closing it behind him. Buffy sighed and finished eating before opening the book and reading more, starting to wonder if maybe Spike would realize his plan wasn’t going to work the way he wanted it to.

* * * * *

As Buffy noticed that it was dark outside, she began to count down the minutes until someone would come upstairs and check on her before staying in the room and watching her all night.

‘Gunn wouldn’t be bad,’ she thought. ‘If I had to take my pick, I think I’d choose him. He doesn’t really seem all that threatening…and Spike wouldn’t be bad, I guess, either. Maybe I could continue to prove to him that his plan is flawed and that he should let me go.’

Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, she held her breath, waiting to see who it would be.

‘If it’s Angel, then there isn’t a God,’ she thought, hearing the footsteps slowly approach the bedroom. The doorknob began to turn, and she nearly held her breath to see who it was.

It was when she heard Spike’s voice suddenly that she paused and tried to listen in on his conversation with whoever else was with him.

“You were in there last night,” the other man said, and Buffy frowned, unable to recognize the voice.

‘Please don’t be Angel,’ she thought, practically chanting it in her head. ‘Please don’t be Angel.’

“I can handle two nights in a row,” Spike replied sternly.

“Is Spike growing attached to the hostage?” the other man asked jokingly, and she could swear she heard Spike growl on the other side of the door.

“Fine,” Spike said angrily. “If you want to stay in there tonight, go right ahead. But if you do anything out of line, you know I’m going to step in.”

Hearing someone walk away, Buffy realized it must have been Spike. It was then the door opened to reveal Angel in the doorway, grinning lecherously at her.

‘My life really can’t get worse, can it?’

Buffy glared at Angel as he walked into the room, turning to lock the door with a vicious flick of his wrist before putting the key in his pocket.

“So, what should we do to pass the time, lover?” he said, turning to face her and slowly walking toward the bed.

“I’ll never be your lover,” she said through gritted teeth. “And considering the sun is rising in less than an hour, I want to sleep.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” he said with a grin. “I was thinking we could utilize the time a little better.”

“Dream on,” she muttered.

“Now, Buff, you’re not being any fun,” he said, reaching into his pocket and extracting a handful of twine, delighting in the fact that Buffy’s eyes widened. “Be a good girl and turn around.”

“Like hell,” she said, immediately standing up and moving as far away from him as possible.

Gasping when Angel crossed the room, Buffy tried to make it to the bathroom, hoping to be able to barricade herself inside. Crying out when he grabbed her shoulders and threw her onto the bed, she struggled against him when his oversized body covered hers.

Muffling her scream with his hand, Angel pinned her wrists above her head, briefly removing his hand from her mouth to wrap the twine around them until the thin cord was biting into her skin. Doing everything she could to push him away from her, Buffy bucked her hips against him, freezing after a moment, her eyes wide in shock when he thrust his erection against her.

“No,” she said, gritting her teeth as she hit him with her bound wrists. Panicking when he used a second piece of rope to secure her to the headboard, Buffy screamed, whimpering when he punched her. She could practically feel her cheek swelling as her head snapped to the side, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

Feeling his hands on the waistband of her pants, Buffy immediately began kicking him. “No! NO!” she screamed, managing to knee him in the chin, sending him reeling back from the surprise of the blow. Cowering into the mattress as much as she could when he prepared to retaliate, Buffy kicked him in the chest, feeling satisfaction at the sound of her foot connecting with his sternum.

Hearing a growl from Angel, she winced when he grabbed her hair, twisting it to fist in his hand, jerking her head at an unnatural angle until her body was arched, trying to ease the pressure in her scalp.

“You think it’s going to be that easy?” he hissed, tightening his hold on her.

“Do you?” she countered, feeling the anger building up inside of her.

“I love a challenge,” he said with a cold smile, pressing his hips against hers, sending a shudder of revulsion through Buffy.

“You really must be insane,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “To think that I would ever touch you.”

Eyes widening when she felt his hand clamp around her neck, Buffy lifted her chin, trying to get away from the pressure on her throat. Struggling beneath him, she gasped for breath, closing her eyes to try and figure out how to get away.

Inhaling sharply a moment later when the hand was removed from her throat, she breathed deeply, opening her eyes as she tried to focus on the situation.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Frowning when she heard the familiar voice, Buffy tried to get her eyes to focus, blinking away the black spots that formed as a result of her lack of air. Seeing Spike and Gunn pinning Angel to the wall, she breathed a sigh of relief, letting her body sag against the mattress.

“She wanted it.”

“So the girl who’s tied up and half-conscious on the bed wanted to be attacked?” Gunn countered sarcastically as Spike stepped away from Angel, only to slam his fist into the other man’s face.

Grabbing his shirt, he threw him against the wall when he tried to get away from both men. “We don’t do this,” Spike growled. “She’s here for us to get money- no other reason. We don’t hurt her, and we’re sure as hell not gonna let you.”

“Get off your high horse, Spike,” Angel said, spitting blood onto the floor. “We’ve seen the way you look at her.”

Glancing over at the bed, Spike saw Buffy struggling against her restraints, obviously more coherent.

“Ever heard of the saying ‘look but don’t touch’, Angelus?” Spike asked, narrowing his eyes on the other man. “Consider that rule written for you. In fact- don’t even look at her. You and I go way back, mate, but if I catch you doing anything-”

“Oh please,” Angel said, rolling his eyes. “You hit her the first night she was here.”

Smashing his fist into Angel’s nose, Spike swung him by the collar, throwing him at Gunn. “And now I pick on people my own size.”

“Not your size,” Angel ground out through clenched teeth. “I’m a hell of a lot bigger than you.”

“And look who’s the bigger man,” Spike countered, raising an eyebrow. “You’re still in on this plan, but that’s all. Don’t piss me off again.”

Waiting until Gunn dragged Angel out of the room, Spike turned toward the bed, quickly making his way across the room. Untying the ropes, he gently rubbed the raw skin, letting the pads of his thumbs trail over the tender flesh. He looked at her face, seeing her cheek swelling as a darker bruise was already beginning to layer over the one he had caused. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

“What do you care?” she replied, shoving him away and wincing when her wrists bent at an odd angle. “You were the one who told me I had nothing to worry about. This was probably your fucked up plan from the beginning.”

“What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Good cop/bad cop routine. Obviously it works with kidnap victims. So what happens now, Spike? I’m indebted to the ‘hero’ because he saved me from the big bad guy? What’s the catch?”

“There’s no bleeding catch!” he yelled in frustration.

“There’s always a catch,” she muttered, clenching her jaw. “What the hell do you want, Spike?”

“That’s the way you want to play it?” he replied softly, his demeanor instantly changing as he walked forward until his body was pressed against hers. “Then what are you willing to give to ensure he doesn’t get near you again?” he asked in a low tone.

Looking up at him with saddened eyes, Buffy could almost see the pang of conscience in his when their gazes met. “You’re serious?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug. “You obviously think that of me…don’t want to disappoint.”

“So I’m not just a hostage- now I’ve been downgraded to whore?” she asked in disbelief.

“What do you think?” he said softly, leaning lower until his lips were nearly brushing against hers.

“Get away from me,” she whispered in a low voice, refusing to back down when he smirked at her.

“You sure that’s what you want, love?” he asked, tilting his head.

“I’ll take my chances with whatever happens before I let you touch me,” she ground out, her eyes flashing as she looked at him in contempt.

“Fair enough,” he replied, turning and walking toward the door. “Just remember this, Buffy…I didn’t have to come in here tonight.”

“Then what are you asking me?” she replied, turning toward him with glassy eyes.

“Sometimes you have to look below the surface of things,” he said quietly.

Knowing that he honestly didn’t want her to get hurt, Buffy sighed. “I’m not going to apologize for what I said,” she murmured after a moment. “And I’m not going to thank you, either.” Seeing Spike raise an eyebrow, she continued, “If it wasn’t for you and your friends, I never would have been in the situation to need help. Can I please be alone now?”

Slowly nodding, Spike walked toward the door. “Good night, Buffy,” he whispered.

Listening to the locks turning on the other side, Buffy took a deep breath, staring unseeingly at a point on the wall. “Good night, Spike.”

Buffy woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked and was relieved when she saw Gunn walk in, holding a plate of food and a can of soda. He crossed the room and handed them to her, which she gratefully accepted, hearing her stomach begin to growl. Gunn walked to the chair that Spike usually used and sat down, watching her eat for a moment. She felt his eyes on her and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” she asked quietly, worried.

“I’m just trying to figure out how a little thing like you could bruise a guy like Angel as much as you did,” he said, and she smiled, looking down. “You did one hell of a job hurting him last night.”

“Well, he deserved it,” she replied sharply, and he nodded.

“I completely agree,” he said, and she looked at him. “Angel’s a bit of a loose cannon, and he probably wouldn’t be involved in the plan had he not been there that night, but he was, so he’s going to be here until this all blows over.” She nodded and opened the soda can. “Spike and I are going to do everything we can to protect you. I’m sure you don’t believe that, but it’s true. We’re just trying to get to your father, not hurt you in the process.”

“I’m sure your intentions are completely honorable,” she said sarcastically before giving him a sad look. “I’m sorry- you’re not one of the guys who’ve been horrible to me.”

“I highly doubt Spike’s been nearly as bad as Angel,” Gunn replied, and she shrugged. “Unless he tried raping you, too, I wouldn’t hold Spike in the same regard as Angel.”

“I don’t hold Spike in any type of regard- he’s just one of my captors,” she said, and he sighed, standing up.

“He and I really aren’t bad men,” he said, walking to the door. “Angel’s usually not bad, either, but he tends to change around women, especially ones he sees as attainable or easy to… mess with.” He opened the door and grabbed his key. “You know, I didn’t really want to bring you into this initially, but it seemed like the best way to get to Hank.”

“I’m sure it did,” she said, looking at him scornfully. “But I hope now you see how very wrong you were.” He looked away and shrugged.

“The plan still isn’t over yet,” he said. “But for your sake, along with the rest of ours, I hope your dad goes along with what we want, the sooner, the better.”

“Yeah, me too,” she replied, watching as he walked out, hearing him relock the door behind him. She looked down at her food and sighed.

‘I just wish this nightmare would end already,’ she thought. ‘I never did anything to deserve this.’

* * * * *

Hearing the locks turning outside the door later that night, Buffy bit her lip when the door opened, expecting to see Spike walk through. Fear racked her body as she immediately shot to her feet when Angel appeared in front of her.

“Get out of here,” she said in a low voice, pronouncing each word as she stared at him.

“And if I came to finish what we started?” he asked, leering at her.

“We didn’t start anything. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“Come on, Buffy,” he said in a low voice. “You know you want it.”

Trying to stop the panic from welling up, she stepped back when he took a few steps toward her. “You touch me and I’ll kill you,” she whispered, holding up a hand as if it would keep him away.

“That might be an interesting fight,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I know how violent you are. I can be as rough on you as I want, and I’m sure you could take it, couldn’t you?” She clenched her fists and moved forward to try to punch him, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him before wrapping his arms tightly around her and pressing his body against hers. “I bet you’ll be a wild ride, won’t you, baby?”

“What are you doing, mate?”

Breathing a sigh of relief when she heard the familiar British accent, Buffy nearly closed her eyes in relief and exhaustion. Spike stepped into the room as Angel let go of Buffy, slightly pushing her away from him.

“I thought Gunn and I told you to stay the hell away from her,” Spike said sharply, moving towards the brunette man and grabbing him by his shirt collar. “I warned you what would happen, Angel, and I’m not about to back down on that.”

“Then hit me,” Angel said, moving his arms out to his sides and smirking. “Give it your best shot, Spike.”

Spike clenched his left fist and punched Angel’s stomach, watching as the larger man bowled over and sank to the ground, clutching his abdomen. While he was down, Spike kicked him in the groin area, delighting in the scream of agony Angel let out.

Gunn suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking between Angel and Spike.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“He came in here uninvited,” Spike said, sparing a glance at Buffy, who had moved to the other side of the room, away from them. “He was trying to do something… again.”

Gunn walked to Angel and helped him stand up before grabbing his bicep and yanking him out of the room, throwing him across the hallway and into a wall before retrieving Angel’s key for Buffy’s room and putting it with his in his pocket.

“When this is all over, Angel, I want nothing to do with you ever again,” Gunn said, punching him. “You’re the most disgusting man I’ve ever known.”

Spike slammed the door before walking slowly over to Buffy, trying to see if she had any new visible bruises or cuts.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly as he stood in front of her, noticing that she was slightly shaking.

“I’m fine,” she managed to say in an even tone, even though she was upset. “You can leave.”

“No, I’m staying in here until Gunn is through with Angel,” he replied. “Because if I go out there, Angel may not make it out of this house alive.” She saw how angry he was and raised an eyebrow. “What? Do you really think I take pleasure in seeing women get hurt?”

“I don’t know you, Spike,” she said, walking to the bed and sitting down. “And what I do know about you isn’t all that pleasant, so sorry if I’m skittish of you stepping in like this to protect me… again.”

“I told you yesterday and I’ll tell you again- I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said firmly. “This isn’t about you- you just got caught in the crossfire.”

“Because you brought me into it!” she said loudly, throwing her arms up. “You got me involved in this mess, Spike!”

“Because I thought it would help our cause,” he replied sternly, walking to his chair and sitting down, putting his head in his hands.

“Well, it doesn’t look like I’m helping much, does it?” she asked, looking at him. “If anything, all I’m doing is making you guys implode, which is a lovely thought, come to think of it.” He shot her a look. “Can’t you just speed your stupid plan up and make an exchange with my dad already?”

“At this point, any contact with Hank is bound to be a trap,” he said. “Or so we think.”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap- I want to get out of here,” she said in a low tone, clenching her jaw.

“Well, doesn’t look like that’s going to happen for a long time,” he replied, and she sighed, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. “A wee bit dramatic, aren’t you?”

“Screw you,” she mumbled.

“I wouldn’t give you the pleasure,” he said, and she looked at him, her jaw dropped in indignation.

“You’re a pig, Spike,” she replied, and he shrugged, smiling.

“There are worse things to be.”

“Spike!”

Turning toward the door a few minutes later, Buffy frowned when she heard Gunn’s voice.

“You might wanna get down here. And bring your girl.”

“Your girl?” Buffy repeated, looking at him. “I’m not your girl!”

“Calm down, Betty.”

“It’s Buffy,” she said with an edge to her voice. “You were the one who had me kidnapped. Shouldn’t you know the basics?”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Do you ever use your brain?” she retaliated, tightening her jaw when he grabbed her arm. “I can walk without your assistance, thank you,” she said sarcastically, jerking her arm out of his grasp.

“Making sure you’re not going to run away, Goldilocks.”

“Is that an option?” she muttered, watching him unlock the door before shoving him out of the way and marching down the hall.

“If you wanted to go first, you could have just told me,” Spike said with a smirk. “I definitely don’t mind this view.”

Turning around to shoot a glare at him, Buffy walked down the stairs, seeing Gunn sitting on the couch in the large living room, his eyes riveted to the television screen.

“What’s going on, Gunn?” he asked, carefully watching Buffy as she sat in a nearby chair, obviously nervous that Angel might appear out of nowhere.

“News event with her dad,” he replied, watching the TV.

“Again?” Buffy asked, rolling her eyes. “He’s milking this for all it’s worth.”

“I can’t honestly believe-”

“Save it, Spike,” she said, turning to face him with flashing eyes. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know anything about my family, so do me a favor and shut up.”

Raising an eyebrow in his direction, Buffy turned toward the TV when she heard her father’s pleading voice, nearly gagging at the amount of fake emotion he was pouring into his words.

“If anyone has any information leading to the safe return of my daughter…”

“Give me a phone,” Buffy murmured, almost to herself.

“What?”

She turned toward the two men in the room. “A phone,” she repeated, her eyes widening as an idea hit her.

“You’re completely off your bird,” Spike said with a laugh.

“Look- you want your money, I want to stop getting harassed in the middle of the night. I’ve trusted you two enough…please just give me the phone.”

Exchanging glances with each other, Spike took a deep breath before walking into the kitchen, grabbing the cellular off the counter that they had arranged to use for later in the plan. Walking back into the living room, he tossed it to Buffy, raising an eyebrow in her direction. “One wrong word and-”

“I’ll be a good little girl,” she said, nearly rolling her eyes as she quickly dialed the number. Smiling briefly when she saw Hank’s eyes widen on the live broadcast, Buffy watched him fumble in his pockets, frowning when he didn’t see a number on Caller ID. Passing the phone to his assistant, he continued his supposedly heartfelt plea for his daughter’s return.

“Hello?”

“This is Buffy Summers,” she said, talking to the other man. “Put my dad on the phone.”

Smiling at the frantic gesture that his assistant gave to Hank, she breathed a sigh of relief when he picked up the phone while the cameras continued to tape.

“Buffy?”

“Daddy,” she said, putting as much false emotion behind her words as she could muster.

“Are you alright?”

“Get me out of here,” she said, shooting a look at Gunn and Spike, who were alternately watching her and the man on the screen.

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” she said, wishing that she could give him more information, knowing that he would never use it, and the consequences would be worse for her if she did. “Just pay the money and get me out of here.”

“I’m doing everything I can-”

Dropping the phony act, Buffy’s gaze hardened as she stood up from her chair. “Walk away from the cameras.”

“What?” Hank asked in confusion.

“You heard me, Dad. I don’t want any monitors, no microphones, no tapes. Walk away.”

Watching him make his excuses, twisting the truth until it made him look good for the reporters, Buffy waited until he walked away before speaking. “I don’t know what you’re ‘planning’, but this isn’t exactly a vacation for me. These people want you, and I’m stuck here because of it. Get me out of here, Hank.”

“We’re doing everything we can, Buffy,” he said in an appeasing tone.

“Don’t pretend like you care,” she said through gritted teeth. “Pay the money. If that’s your only concern, then I’ll…I’ll find some way to pay you back- just help me.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

Hearing the click of the phone, Buffy tried to control the tears in her eyes as she stared straight ahead, listening to the sound of dead air before she hung up the phone.

Wordlessly handing it back to Spike, she turned and walked up the stairs, not caring about anything and not wanting to see the son of a bitch that she called her father playing it up for cameras. Walking into the room that was her prison, she slammed the door behind her, not caring that it locked behind her, not bothering to try any means of escape. She just wanted to curl up on the bed that wasn’t even hers and forget that she had matching DNA with Hank Summers.

So lost in thought, she never even heard the door open.

“Did you really mean that?” Spike asked, looking at her after a moment.

“Mean what?” she asked, avoiding his gaze as she tried to steady her breathing, grabbing her blanket from the edge of the bed and wrapping it securely around her body.

“That you would pay him back if he paid the ransom?”

Buffy looked up, staring at him for a long moment before responding. “What do you think?”

“That wasn’t the…”

“Plan?” she filled in. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to go along with your plan,” she continued, taking out her frustrations with her father on the only person she could.

“We never wanted you to pay, Buffy.”

“Don’t do this,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Don’t get into the gray areas. We both know this is about money, and if you think that I’m going to sit here and have to spend more on therapy bills than I already am, you’re delusional. If I have to pay to get myself out of here, I will. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Unable to look at him, Buffy turned on her side and closed her eyes, wanting to forget everything.

Hours later, Spike returned to the room and saw Buffy still lying on the bed, curled up and staring at an imperfection on the wall.

“Hungry, love?” he asked quietly, and when she didn’t answer, he walked closer to the bed and crouched down in front of her. “Buffy?”

“Did my dad really murder your friend?” she asked, not looking at him.

“Yes,” he answered, tilting his head. “We didn’t do anything to him- he shot Xander and got us in a mess of trouble. Well, no more trouble than I’ll probably be in after this mess is over.”

“Were you two close? You and Xander?” she asked curiously, and he nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he replied, managing a weak smile. “But you told me that before.” She looked at him with sad eyes.

“If this was never about me, couldn’t you have figured out another way to get money from him?” she asked. “By blackmailing him somehow for shooting your friend?”

“Do you really think cops would believe any of us? Angel, Gunn, and I aren’t really outstanding members of society, as it is, and no one would believe a word we’d say against Hank because he sent us to jail for half a decade- we could be lying just to try to enact some revenge.”

“Dad has a security camera in his office ceiling- wouldn’t a tape prove that you guys weren’t threatening him?” she asked curiously, and he sighed.

“The tape didn’t have sound,” he replied. “And from the angle it filmed at, it looks as though I’m about to attack him. The tape didn’t help our case at all.”

“It seems like trying to steal a painting from him ended up being a very horrible decision,” she said, looking away. “One you will have to live with for the rest of your life. The consequences, I mean.”

“What, like being sent to jail?” he asked. “Losing Xander was like losing a brother. He was my best friend, and I owe him a lot.” He looked away. “I wish Hank had shot me, not Xander.”

“Don’t say that,” she replied, and he looked at her, frowning.

“Why not? What makes you think my life is more worthy of living than Xander’s?” he asked sharply. “He was engaged- his wedding was supposed to be three months after the plan was to take place. We were trying to steal the painting so we could all make money from it, money he was going to use for the wedding and his future with his wife. His intentions for the money were noble and valid, whereas I was just going to send myself back to London to track down my worthless ponce of a father.”

“Your father’s a bastard, too?” she asked, and he moved to sit down on the bed, beside her.

“He was,” he answered. “He died while I was in prison.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “He left my mum when he found out she was pregnant with me and didn’t try to contact her at all after my birth. Not until she died and left me to live on my own at age sixteen. That’s when he found me and made me live with him, since I was a minor and wasn’t likely to survive by myself.”

“Let me guess- living with him didn’t work out so well?” she asked, and he scoffed.

“Bleeding nightmare,” he replied, looking away. “He was verbally abusive, and on the rare occasions he was physically abusive, I was hurt so bad that I had to be sent to a hospital. But he never apologized, not once.” He sighed and wished he had a pack of cigarettes on him. “He sent me a letter a couple weeks before his death, telling me I was a waste and the most pathetic excuse for a son, how much he wished that I had never been born.”

Buffy could hear him choking up a bit and looked at him, surprised to see that his eyes were becoming watery.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, and he waved it off, looking down.

“There’s nothing saying he was wrong about me,” he replied. “Maybe I am really a waste.”

“No one is a waste,” she said firmly. “Don’t ever think that.”

“Why are you being nice to me?” he asked, looking at her, and she shrugged.

“You’re not being that horrible to me, so why not return the favor?” she asked, and he smiled meekly. “So, when did your life pick up a bit?”

“I ran away from home one night when my father had passed out, extremely drunk, and stole all the money he kept in the house,” he explained, smirking at the memory. “I had just enough to send me to Los Angeles, where I met Xander. He worked at a wretched bar in the downtown area and managed to get me a job as a bartender. It’s because of him that I even lasted as long as I did here. If he hadn’t helped me, I would be a bum in a box somewhere, if not dead.” She nodded and looked down. “He met his fiancé there- she was a waitress. They were incredibly happy together, almost as if they lived in a fairy tale.” He made a face. “A kind of poor fairy tale, but you get what I mean.”

“What happened to his fiancé? After he died?” she asked, looking at him.

“She was devastated,” he answered, tilting his head back so it rested against the wall behind him. “She quit working at the bar and tried living on her own, but I don’t think that worked out. Last I heard, she got into drugs and alcohol and was arrested a few times for getting caught with illegal substances.” He sighed. “Her life went pretty downhill, and there was nothing I could do to help- I was locked up in a jail cell, wishing I was dead, too.”

“Have you tried seeing her since you were released?” she asked quietly, and he shook his head.

“She doesn’t want to see any of us, least of all me,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m the one who supported Xander’s plan the most- I could’ve stopped him from even attempting it, but instead, Gunn, Angel, and I went along with it, too greedy to even think about the repercussions of what we were trying to do.” He paused and shook his head, almost as if to try to clear it of his thoughts. “I’m sorry- I doubt any of this even matters to you.”

“It’s nice to see the more humane part of Spike,” she replied, smiling. “Plus, it gives me an idea of who you really are.” He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re letting me in on your life- that’s not something a kidnapper typically does.”

“Well, maybe I just needed to get it off my chest,” he said, standing up.

“And maybe you needed someone to listen, someone who might care about what you have to say,” she added, and he looked down at her.

“You care?” he asked, and she shrugged, sighing.

“Not like I have a lot else to care about right now,” she said. “Not about school, my dad, even about being here- if this is where I’m going to be for a while, I might as well focus on the internal stuff than on the external.”

“Well, thanks for listening, doc,” he said, walking to the door and extracting his key. “I’ll let you sleep in here alone tonight- I don’t anticipate you trying to break out. And if you do, you know we’ll track you down, right?”

“I’m not going to break out,” she mumbled, laying down again and turning on her side, facing away from him. “There’s not a whole lot for me to go back to.” He looked sadly at her curled-up form and took a deep breath.

“The hardest thing in this world is to live in it,” Spike said quietly, and she looked over her shoulder at him, standing in the doorframe. “There’s always something to live for, to return home to.” She raised an eyebrow as he shut the door and locked it, leaving her to think about everything he had said to her that night.

“Rise and shine, love.”

Buffy’s eyes snapped open when she felt herself being pulled out of the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked blearily, turning toward Spike as she tried to focus on him. “What time is it?”

“Around two in the morning,” he replied, guiding her out of the door and down the hall, one hand on her arm, the other on the small of her back as he led her through the house.

“Where are we going?” she asked, shaking her head to attempt to wake up a little.

“Change of plans,” he said, leading her down the stairs. “Gunn! Where’s Angel?”

“I sent him out the back,” Gunn said, moving around the living room.

“Right,” he muttered, walking through the kitchen and opening a door.

“Spike, what’s going on?” Buffy asked, feeling a slight tinge of panic when Spike began pulling her into the dark basement.

“I just told you, pet- change of plans.”

“And what does that mean? That the cops are going to find me in a ditch?”

Stopping for a moment, Spike turned around, loosely grabbing the back of Buffy’s neck, guiding her until she could barely make out his face in the dark room. “Do you honestly think that?”

“I don’t,” she whispered after a moment. “But I would like to know what ‘change of plans’ means.”

“It means that the little conversation you had with your father earlier tipped off the police to an idea, and they’re on their way here.” Seeing Buffy’s eyes widen, Spike’s hold on her tightened as he pulled her closer. “No ideas.”

“H-how…?”

“Police scanner,” he replied, feeling along the wall until finding the latch he was looking for. Sliding open the panel, he pushed Buffy inside, following after her and shutting the door, leaving them pressed together in the small space.

Unable to do anything else, Buffy hesitantly placed her hands on his chest, feeling his hands loosely settle on her hips.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking up at where his eyes were supposed to be.

“Gunn talks to them, they go away.”

“You’re so sure about that?”

“No ideas, Goldilocks,” he repeated in a warning tone. “I mean it. I don’t have a gag with me, but I’m sure I can find something to keep you quiet for a while.”

Narrowing her eyes at the shadowy outline, Buffy turned her head away, listening intently.

“What is this place?” she asked, her voice coming out in a whisper.

“Old storage room,” he replied softly, still listening to any faint sounds coming from the other side of the door.

“Not much room for storage,” she muttered, hearing Spike chuckle in response.

“For wood, love. When they used the wood-burning stove down here.”

“Old house,” she murmured, her fingertips gently grazing over his covered chest before she realized what she was doing. Swallowing hard, she could almost feel Spike’s eyes on her. “How long do we have to stay in here?” she asked, restlessly shifting on her feet.

Closing his eyes when he felt her unknowingly rub her body against his, Spike exhaled sharply. “‘Til they leave,” he replied.

Misunderstanding the reaction, Buffy rolled her eyes. “Sorry,” she said sarcastically, her voice rising with her temper as her eyes adjusted to see him in the darkness.

Hearing the doorbell chiming upstairs, Spike clamped a hand over her mouth, hearing her indignant, muffled reply. “Quiet,” he said in a harsh whisper, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer, feeling her heartbeat quicken, thudding against her chest, in response.

Spike listened to the muffled sounds of the officers moving around on the second floor, opening and closing the bedroom doors. Saying a silent prayer that nothing was in Buffy’s room that would link them to her, Spike gritted his teeth.

Listening for a few more minutes, Spike never noticed when his hand moved to the small of Buffy’s back, gently caressing it as if to put her at ease. Feeling her relax against him after a moment, he tensed up when he heard the voices getting closer.

“What’s down here?”

“Not much,” they heard Gunn say. “My grandparents used it more than I do. Just storing some of my old things down here now, as you can see.”

“I’ve done a lot to you, Buffy, but please…don’t say anything,” Spike whispered, his voice pleading with her, never moving the hand that was clamped over her mouth.

“Seen William Blake lately?” one of the men asked.

“He checked in with his parole officer the other day,” Gunn replied. “Came over, had a few beers- that was the last time I saw him.”

“Uh huh,” the officer said. “And Angelus O’Reilly?”

“Saw him about a week ago.”

“Any idea who might have the Summers’ woman?”

Spike tensed, his arms involuntarily tightening around Buffy.

“Haven’t watched much of the news,” Gunn said coolly. “Who is she?”

“Hank Summers’ daughter went missing. Being held for ransom. Seems like an awful big coincidence to have his only child disappear when you three get out of jail after assaulting him.”

“If you’re implying something, Officer, I hope you have a motive to back it up. I’ve never met Hank Summers’ kid, and I sure as hell don’t want to see him again.”

Hearing the sound of footsteps going up the stairs, Spike leaned toward the door slightly, hoping to pick up on more of the conversation.

“Well, if you hear of anything, you’ll let us know?”

“Of course, Officer.”

Listening to the officers leaving the basement, Spike hesitantly moved his hand away from Buffy’s mouth, watching her to make sure she wasn’t going to try anything.

“Thank you,” he whispered, breathing a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived when he heard the officer’s voice again. “Left my flashlight- I’ll be up in a minute.”

Seeing the indecision on Buffy’s face, Spike put a hand around the back of her neck, guiding her lips to his in a tender kiss. He had no idea how she would react to him, hoping this worked to his advantage. Testing the waters for a moment, Spike paid close attention to her. She didn’t try to deepen the kiss, obviously taken by surprise with the shock of it, but she didn’t bite him or try to yell, either. He was hoping that was a good sign.

Brushing his tongue against her bottom lip, his hands tangled in her hair when her lips parted. Pressing her against the wall behind her, Spike felt her begin to respond as he deepened the kiss.

Forgetting where they were, both nearly jumped apart, turning toward the source of light that flowed over them. Staring for a moment, Gunn looked back at them with an amused expression before clearing his throat. “They’re gone. Coast is clear…but if you two would rather stay in there…”

Gunn trailed off, turning around to walk up the stairs.

“Funny,” Spike muttered, placing his hand on the small of Buffy’s back, nearly cringing when she tensed beneath his touch.

Spike’s jaw tensed as he followed her up the stairs. ‘Oh, this will be a fun night.’