CHAPTER 1 –

Buffy’s eyes scanned out the grimy window of the passenger side of the car as it rambled down a seemingly empty street – a street that had been abandoned to the lowliest of demon drug dealers and vampire whores. Buffy vaguely remembered that it used to be called Ravello all those years ago -- when boys, having a social life, and passing biology were all-encompassing to her.

Xander steered the car down the road, wary of their surroundings. Sure, there was a little bit of light left, taking the threat of vampires out of the equation, but humans hopped up on whatever the demon drug ring was cooking up this week was a constant concern. Half the time they were more vicious and carnal than actual demons.

Then they past it. 1630. Xander was making mindless small-talk, the way he did when he felt she needed distracted, but Buffy heard nothing but meaningless murmuring as she continued to zone out the window – the only window still fully intact that hadn’t been hap hazardously fixed by Xander or Giles. Home. It used to be home. Her mom. Her sister. Home.

Looking out, Buffy stared at the shell of a house. Since evil had risen up and overtaken the town and they’d been driven from 1630 Ravello Drive, half of her childhood home had been burned to the ground. Willow was buried somewhere in that rubble, her friends having to make a makeshift grave for their fallen friend like they had the others. Buffy was thankful her mother had died before the demon rebellion had occurred and had gotten a proper burial in a cemetery although it was hard to find the headstone anymore, the ground was so tore up from rising vamps. She was doubly thankful that she and Giles had had the foresight to send Dawn far, far away early on. Buffy racked her fuddled brain; Dawnie had just turned nineteen sometime in the last few months. What month was it anyway? Communication was nonexistent. The phone lines and cell phone towers were gone and God knows what happened to the mail system. Buffy hoped her sister was doing well, but rarely ever allowed herself to dwell on it.

Buffy spared a glance at Xander’s hands sliding over the dented wheel. Even now Buffy still didn’t formally know how to drive, though she’d driven plenty of times during emergency getaways. Not like it mattered much anymore. The local DMV was now a demon bar anyway so you couldn’t get a license even if you wanted one. And it was pointless to own a vehicle because it was either stolen from you or vandalized to the point that it didn’t even look like a car anymore. One of the few left in running order belonged to Giles, which Xander was currently turning into a littered parking lot.

As she slid out of the car, Buffy instinctively looked to the sky. Sundown would be in about an hour. That gave them a small window in which their operations would be relatively safe. There were barely any electric poles still standing so you had to learn to judge time by the sun, if there was one at all, just like the monsters they fought.

Early on the government had tried to step in and help – a group called the Initiative had been sent in to set up underground headquarters when the demon rebellion had really gotten underway. But even the depths of Sunnydale proved too corrupt, and the government operation was destroyed within a year. Buffy painfully recalled a certain agent leaving on a helicopter – he and his remaining agents fleeing, leaving her and the few friends that were still alive stranded.

That was when Giles took over as the head of what was left of the legal system and he, along with Buffy and Xander, the only ones remaining of their group, created a small section of the city that housed those that hadn’t fled or been killed in vampire and demon attacks. But even their attempted safe-haven had been plagued with corruption.

Those that were left in the city were trapped in at all sides. Even if a remaining human tried to make a run for it, they’d never get a few blocks in any direction without being slaughtered. Many had gone crazy and tried. All had failed. They knew that because only minutes after they fled they would hear the screaming. It was never quick either, but torture that lasted days, making an example out of them. With no sound to drown it out, Buffy and her friends were left to do nothing but lay at night, listening to it. They used that pain to fuel the little fight that was left in them.

But they tried. Time and time again they tried. Every time a new Big Bad would rise up the ranks of Sunnyhell, they would come out to meet with it. Usually they secured an agreement allowing their small operation to continue to run. That’s what they were there for now.

“Think he’ll cooperate?” Xander asked, his voice breaking through the gusts of wind that threw paper and dragged debris around them.

“They never do,” Buffy answered, quickly approaching the warehouse. She halted at the door, turning to her partner, “Ready?” Xander drew his crossbow and secured the ax attached to his back and nodded. Buffy pulled her stake and threw open the heavy steel door.

Suspecting to surprise at least a few vamps and take a couple out early, they were slightly unnerved by the emptiness that met them. Cautiously moving further into the room, Buffy and Xander kept on the defensive.

“Sure this was the right place?” he kept his voice hushed.

Buffy nodded, “If you were the new baddie in town wouldn’t you want to reside in the center of the chaos?”

“I know I would,” a voice came from the side of the room off to their right.

Xander instinctively pivoted and shot an arrow in the direction of the voice, not heeding Buffy’s objection.

A swift, clean movement from the stranger had him further in the open, the arrow caught in his hands, inches from his chest. Nothing in his face gave hint to the fact that there had been an attempt on his life seconds earlier.

Instead, he sauntered over to them, “Don’t waste your arrows, boy,” he sneered, handing the weapon back to Xander who, dumbfounded, reloaded it back into his crossbow.

“We’re here to see Spike,” Buffy’s voice came out strong.

The man turned to Buffy, as if just noticing her for the first time, revealing his pronounced cheekbones, penetrating gaze, and a well-placed smirk. This must be Spike, she surmised. “Well, Slayer, was wondering when you’d be coming around. Supposed it was just a matter of time before you had to check out the goods for yourself.” He ran his hand from his chest down to his belt buckle, smiling in satisfaction when Buffy’s eyes followed his movements.

“Cut the theatrics, we’re here to make a deal,” Xander demanded.

Spike shook his head, keeping his tone casual, and shifting his weight to his back foot. He took out a cigarette and lit it. Taking a drag, he held in the smoke a few seconds before exhaling, “I know all about you white hats. Every time a new Big Bad rises to power you come breaking in wanting to make a deal. It used to work for you way back when. Problem is . . . you don’t have the power anymore. Face it; you’re city’s different now. There’s a new Big Bad -- best if you recognized it and fall in line before you find yourselves catching a nasty case of death.”

“You think you’re the first vampire to threaten us?” Xander asked.

“I think I’m the first vampire to not lie to you.” He took a step closer, “I think I’m the first vampire to know where the cards truly lie.”

“This town doesn’t belong to the sick and demented,” Xander affirmed.

The vampire almost chuckled, “You’re delusional. This town has always belonged to us, Goldilocks here knows it,” Spike gestured to Buffy, “You can see it in her eyes.” He approached Buffy, whose grip tightened on her stake but made no movement to use it, “She knows that if you don’t make a deal with me, you’re going to lose what small grip you have left on this city and the only reason it’s going to stay the way it is now is if I allow it.” His eyes never left hers during his speech. Spike backed away, “Now you go scurry home to your little Watcher and tell him there’s no deal.”

Buffy knew she should be more concerned then she was that this Spike knew so much about them, knew that Giles used to be called a Watcher, knew who she was and when they would be coming. Silence hung in the air until Buffy finally spoke, “Let’s go Xander.” She tuned her back on them, barely hearing the slap on the concrete as Xander ran to keep up.

As the outside air hit their faces Xander looked worriedly at Buffy.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking over at his stern partner who was storming back to the car.

“My shoe’s wet,” she complained.

“What? How?” Xander asked, looking towards the cloudless sky.

“From the pissing contest you two just had,” she spat. “And just for the record, Xander, you lost.”


TBC – Buffy returns to Spike’s lair to make a deal of her own

CHAPTER 2 –


“Giles, we’re fine,” Buffy assured her Watcher and boss for the umpteenth time. “Nothing happened.”

Giles paced back and forth in the dilapidated police station – the building they had taken over as their headquarters after it was abandoned. “Even so, Buffy, I would prefer if you and Xander did not attempt any more heroics with this Spike character until we know more about him.”

“You would have sent us out there eventually to try to make a deal with him anyway. We chose sooner rather than later.”

“But Buffy, we don’t know where this Spike has come from . . .”

“Does it matter!?” Buffy interrupted. “It’s the same thing that’s been going on for years: Some new bad guy overthrows the old bad guy, we go and make some sort of deal with him; pretend we have a leg to stand on. Spike has managed to defeat the old leader, something we’ve never managed to come close to.”

Giles cleaned his glasses, “You should have gone earlier in the day and with more backup if you were going at all.”

“Backup from who exactly? The few innocent people that we have left here?” She threw an arm out, gesturing to the dozen or so ragged people shuffling dazedly around them. “Half of them sneak out at night to hit vampire hangouts to barter their own blood for food and clothing!” Giles didn’t meet her eyes and when he turned to walk away from her, Buffy jumped in front of him. “And where exactly did you plan on getting more information about him? The school library burned down years ago with all your precious books in it! We don’t have any friends here, no support! The rest of the world pretends we don’t exist!” Buffy inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself after her outburst, “And sometimes I wish we didn’t,” she stated softly.

Giles’ eyes instantly widened in concern; he had seen her stressed before, but never to vacant of hope, “Buffy . . .”

She held her hand up to stop him, “Aren’t you tired of always being on the defense, waiting for them to make the next move?” Giles rolled his head, looking around helplessly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Buffy again shook him off. Nothing he could say to her right now would make any of this okay. She stalked towards the door, grabbing her tattered coat along the way. “Don’t worry, Giles. I’ll get you your deal.”

__________________________________


She must have been threatened, propositioned, and cursed hundreds of times on her walk outside, well past dark. But Buffy didn’t hear any of them. Something in her stride must have told the daemons surrounding her to leave her alone. Besides, they weren’t starving; they had plenty of other victims at their disposal.

The only thing lighting her path on the streets were fires, either coming from the flames of burning buildings or metal drums in alleyways. Burning. Always burning. How was anything in this town still standing? If she stayed alive long enough, would the town just burn itself to the ground around her? Probably not. Every few years another evil leader thought he’d build himself a metropolis and forced hundreds of slaves, human or otherwise, to erect structures in his honor. Just when Buffy thought it would all come crumbling down, something would build it back up again.

Once again crossing the same parking lot she and Xander had traversed hours earlier, not a single crony, even as she let herself into the building of their all-powerful boos, attempted to harass her, probably dumbfounded with the gall of this girl.

In the warehouse, Buffy did not meet the emptiness of earlier. Instead, it looked like Spike was having a moving-in party. From this throng he emerged.

Gone were the black jeans, t-shirt, and leather trench coat from earlier. Now he wore black leather pants and a midnight blue sleeved shirt with a sort of celtic-looking design traced on it in black that clung to his lean form.

Spike, taking her in, shook his head, “Isn’t safe for you to be out after dark little girl.”

“I can take care of myself,” she assured him, ignoring the dangerous group that watched them with interest.

“A little more chatty on this trip, I see. Barely said two words to me last we met, let wonder-boy play bad cop.” He circled her.

“It’s not that,” she answered coolly, “I just don’t justify stupidity with a response.”

He sucked in a false breath, “And the lady gets defensive,” he noticed, “Must of spoken some truths earlier tonight.”

He moved from her and sat on a sort of throne in the middle of the room. Around him were a bevy of women – some human and some vampire, Buffy’s senses couldn’t distinguish which was which. The crowd that had been watching them, probably realizing their boss wasn’t going to give them the go-ahead to attack, quickly lost interest and resumed talking in low murmurs and rubbing against each other. Buffy smelt the thick stench of drugs all around her.

“So where is your little boyfriend?” he asked, looking behind her for Xander. When she didn’t respond he studied her, tilting his head to the side, “You know I won’t make deals with him,” he observed.

“But you’ll make a deal with me,” she replied confidently.

His brow arched, “Will I now?”

Spike slowly slid a hand from his belt buckle up his torso, smiling in satisfaction as Buffy watched, riveted yet again. Bringing his hand up next to his chiseled cheekbone, he snapped his fingers. Instantly, a woman rose from the group behind him. Pushing her long black hair behind her shoulders, Buffy saw that she was naked from the waist up. Silently, she placed herself in front of Spike and quickly fell to her knees, pulling down the zipper of his jeans expertly, her mouth swiftly latching on to his cock.

He closed his eyes in pleasure. A minute passed, seemingly forgetting she was there, rotating his hips into the woman’s eager mouth. When he opened his eyes again, Buffy could see they had darkened four shades.

“What do you want?” Buffy breathed, determined to keep her eyes on his face and ignore the woman’s actions before him.

“What I want,” he stated, voice dropping a register, “You’re not ready to provide . . . yet.”

“I think I’ll decide what I am and am not willing to do.”

He shook his head as if he were tsking a small child, “Little girl, you don’t know what you’re playing at.” He pushed the woman off him and stood, fixing his pants.

“I’ll learn the rules as I go,” she assured him, keeping her eyes up.

“That’s just it,” he clapped his hands in front of her, making her jump; “there are no rules. That’s the thing you white hats don’t understand. You can fight and fight and fight and it doesn’t change a thing.” His eyes shifted focus. He reached up and twirled a strand of Buffy’s hair in his fingertips distractedly. She stiffened, but didn’t move away. “I could show you so many things,” he whispered. Suddenly, he snapped out of his trace, “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting. The girls would love to have you,” he added, smiling.

The prostitutes behind him murmured their approval.

“Sorry, I don’t swing that way,” she ground out.

“But you would. For me. I’d get you so worked up you’d take anything up that wet pussy of yours.” His hands didn’t touch her, but Buffy distinctly felt of wave of something wash over her limbs. Trying to shake the unnerving feeling, she broke their eye contact, looking over his shoulder. She blinked.

Behind him, mixing in with his masses, she saw a bunch of men. Men she knew. They were some of the “good guys” – those people she had fought side by side with when they had last attempted to revolt. They were some of the most dedicated to the cause of good she knew, besides Xander and Giles. One of them had lost two of his brothers in those battles. Now, here they were. Still human, from what Buffy could tell, but playing on the dark side. With those that had killed their loved ones.

Spike saw the recognition in her eyes.

“Your legal system isn’t as innocent as you thought, sweetheart.”

Buffy didn’t look at him. “The girls – the human ones – why not turn them?” she asked distractedly.

“The warm bodies and blood,” he answered plainly. “When you pierce their skin at just the right moment, they’re so beautiful when they come. I could make you cum like that.”

He raked his fingers through her hair, tilting her head, placing his lips next to her exposed ear, “You’d be my favorite,” he whispered hotly, nipping at her earlobe.

“You’d kill me?” she accused, but still caught up in the trance somehow.

“Turn you? Christ, no. That way every month, when that warm blood of yours seeps from between your thighs I can be there to catch it. Think about it. You’d spend all week in bed. I’d bring you anything you wanted. You’d be my Princess.”

His words were full of promise and he didn’t look disappointed, even as she backed away. Her entire head felt jumbled and she tripped rushing out the door, not turning her back to him until the last possible moment. She wasn’t concerned about the vampires around her. He’d give her safe passage back to headquarters.

As she made her way back to the old police station, Buffy couldn’t even recall what she had come there for, not like it mattered anymore.

TBC