“There he is.”

Buffy Summers held her breath longingly as Spike Giles all but stalked into the lunchroom. His trademark smirk was set firmly in place, long legs encased in tight black levis whilst his heavy duster drifted behind.

The man was gorgeous.

Looking at the enraptured stares of her best friends Willow and Amy, Buffy could see she was not alone. Willow, a thin red head, could not control the blush which bloomed across her face and Amy… well the girl had never been one to hide her feelings.

“When are you going to talk to him?” asked Amy with a lustful glance at their idol.
“I know you always say that he’d never like you and you have no chance, but seriously Buffy if you don’t go ask him out I swear I’m going to.” There’s no way I’m missing out on some action from Giles

Buffy merely ducked her head before staring at her plate of slimy macaroni. The noodles swam in the thick sauce like twisted lifeboats. The stench of the cheese made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. The lunch ladies were obviously in one of their moods again.

Glancing again at Spike, Buffy sighed deeply. She knew better than to answer Amy’s questions. Though she had never told either of the other girls, Buffy had already approached Spike, only to be rebutted with barely a glance. There was no way she would try again and risk having to listen to more country music in despair.

All three girls at the table knew Amy would do it anyway eventually, even without her approval. Before Amy had joined Willow and Buffy she had been after Sam’s boyfriend Riley. Buffy couldn’t see the attraction but for some reason Amy pursued him and unfortunately for Sam won. The rather public separation between Riley and his girlfriend had caused Amy to migrate to their table. Sometimes Buffy wished she never agreed to be friends with her.

Buffy was awoken from her musings by a dark chuckle, Angel also entering the room. Whilst Spike and he got along publicly, everyone knew that there was a fight just waiting to happen. The Aurelius gang was just not big enough for the two of them.

When Buffy’s mother had first spoken of Sunnydale she had imagined a sleepy little town with barely anything to do. ‘A one Starbucks on the main street’ kind of place as her old friends had put it when hearing about her new home. However Sunnydale was anything but sleepy and definitely not safe under any circumstance. More like a hellmouth

Gangs ruled the area and even though they consisted of boys just out of high school or freshmen there was plenty to fear. Parker Abrams ran the rival gang to Angel’s. Though she had never seen him, many talked about how normal he appeared except for small moments when something darker would glimmer in his eyes. A couple of girls had gone missing after being seen with him. The police of Sunnydale took no notice of the violent wars which the gangs would engage in, preferring to take donut runs up to LA.

A lot of the students liked to ignore the tension which ran through the halls. Or better yet pick sides with one gang and thus receive privileges. Willow’s old friend Cordelia had taken that option when Angel propositioned her in exchange for some free perks. Now Cordelia was just another one of his girls, not even complaining when he flaunted his other relationships in front of her.

Many of the girls had been hoping Spike would follow in Angel’s shoes and pick his own harem however the sarcastic bleached blond abstained.

Buffy adored him more for it.

Right then he was sprawled across one of the chairs in the cafeteria, Cordelia leaning against him in a friendly manner as Angel told one of his stories. Groups that were close to the main table listened closely, laughing in odd spots when they were supposed to. Angel made a formidable figure, the brunette standing at 6”2 and carrying mostly muscle on his frame. Unlike Spike, Angel wore a red shirt coupled with black leather pants. Nearly all the girls at his table had been his at one point or another and positively drooled at the sight he made.

All the girls except for Buffy.

The petite little blond couldn’t stand the sight of him, let alone think he was attractive. Cordelia had rung her and Willow far more times than she could count, crying over the giant Neanderthal and his latest ho.

If she were a boy, Buffy would have punched him.

As it was, she could only settle back in her chair and admire Spike whose arm had become wrapped around another girl.

The tittering laugh which flew across the room only informed Buffy of what she feared.

Harmony.

Whilst Spike had not chosen a girl or girls as Angel wished him to, Harmony had made it quite plain that she was available. Her latest stunt of lounging on top of his car had made Buffy squirm in anger before laughing her head off. Contrary to what Harmony had hoped, Spike had come rushing out to the parking lot not to sweep her off her feet and kiss her but rather to get her off his car. The black Desoto which rumbled like a spitting cat was his prize possession and unfortunately for Harmony was in no way ever to be sat on.

“What in the bleeding hell do you think you’re doing you stupid bint!” Spike had roared at her in pure anger, hands messing up his slicked back in pure agitation.

“I wanted to see whether you could turn me on like you do this car” purred Harmony oblivious to Spike’s enraged countenance. “I really like you blondie bear and I-“

The girl’s explanation was cut short as Spike grabbed her off the hood, dumping her unceremoniously on the ground.

“Let’s get one thing straight Harm.” Spike’s voice came out as nothing but a deep baritone growl, made all the more delicious by the undercurrent of dominance. “No one touches my car let alone bleeding sits on it. Especially not some silly bint who can’t keep her legs shut.”

He put one hand down, roughly grabbing Harmony up before dragging her close.

“Are we clear?”

Harmony merely nodded before running away in a flurry of tears.

Buffy thumped her head against the table in desperation as once again the girl’s laughter ricocheted in her head, this time accompanied by Spike’s baritone laugh.

She didn’t know how much more she could take.

Grabbing her bag and leaving the ocean of macaroni which graced her plate on the table, Buffy murmured an excuse to her friends before rushing out.

Glancing up from his plate, Spike watched the small slender girl run out of the room. He’d noticed her ever since she first arrived in Sunnyhell quickly becoming enamored with her. It had taken everything in him not to approach the girl or ‘Buffy’ as he’d been told and ask her to go on a date with him. That was until he considered the repercussions.

As though knowing where Spike’s mind had trailed, Angel gave him a condescending smirk before announcing his departure. The brooding brunette had noticed his counterpart’s interest and was himself intrigued. If the girl was anything like Drusilla had been then Angel would enjoy her immensely. That and the look of pure hatred on Spike’s face. Perhaps it was time to put him in his place again. Smiling once more at the bleached blond who could only watch him hopelessly, Angel walked out of the room.

He was going to get to know this Buffy Summers.

The bathroom mirror glinted harshly at her, florescent lights reflecting her disheveled appearance. Buffy was thankful that she was alone, for once not having to listen to Cecily or any other of her group comment on her makeup which was now smudged. The mascara she had applied that morning in an attempt to catch Spike’s attention now ringed her eyes like a makeover gone wrong. Golden hair, streaked with rich browns and bronze hung around her face like a curtain shielding her away from any who could walk in and most of all from the mirror.

In LA girls had obsessed about their appearance, even to the point of skipping lunch but in Sunnydale it took on a new meaning. The first time she had met Cordelia had been in front of this very mirror, the brunette crying her eyes out. Back then Angel had not once glanced in her direction and Cordelia had seen no reason why he wouldn’t. Buffy hadn’t either.

Cordelia put new meaning to the terms ‘drop dead gorgeous’, thick chocolate waves falling down her back. The newest fashions always graced her wardrobe and now more often then not, another girl would be accused of stealing her style. Back then though Cordelia’s self esteem had been about as existent as Buffy’s chances with Spike Giles. Buffy didn’t know whether to thank Angel for stopping Cordy’s behaviour or kill him for allowing it to occur in the first place.

Killing him still seemed like a far better option.

Sighing to herself Buffy pulled a handkerchief from her pocket before wiping away the blotchy stains on her face. Perhaps its my nose she wondered idly, or maybe its because I’m so short. Buffy’s face crumpled for a moment before she shook her head in frustration. There was absolutely no good reason whatsoever for her to be obsessing about what some guy thought of her, particularly if it led to crying in the bathroom. She wasn’t Cordelia. And therefore, asserted Buffy determinedly, should not be acting like her. Chin jutting out in resolve, Buffy began to walk towards the exit of the bathroom, not noticing the hard chest she crashed into.

The sight of the Summers girl landing flat on her ass caused Angel to chuckle for a moment before he hid his smile. He had left the cafeteria in a fine mood, catching the sight of Buff’s skirt just before she disappeared into the girl’s bathroom. He had planned to go in there and simply start kissing the girl, whether she liked it or not but was finding that the idea of seducing her would be a whole lot more enjoyable. Just imagine Will’s face when he sees her with me

Unable to stop a slight chuckle, Angel grasped one of Buffy’s small hands in his, hauling her up with force. “Are you alright?” he asked. The permanent scowl which commonly graced his features was now hidden behind a smile, all the more odd looking because of its rarity.

Buffy stared at him in shock. what on earth is Angel doing in here? Particularly when I’m alone? Buffy’s eyes went wide as she suddenly realised what Angel had in mind. Before Cordelia had been officially recognised as Angel’s they had met in the bathroom for what he called ‘trials’. Cordelia had always waited early for him, obsessing over her makeup in the mirror. The same mirror which now reflected back both her image and Angel’s.

This can’t be good

“Look Angel, Cordelia isn’t here right now so if you would just-“

The rest of Buffy’s sentence was cut off as Angel placed his hand across her mouth rather abruptly.

“I didn’t come here for Cordelia Buffy.”

Angel pushed his way closer to the blond knowing full well that if Spike found out what he was doing, the Brit would have his head.

Forcing his way until there was barely an inch between them, Angel wrapped his other arm around Buffy’s shaking frame, completely oblivious to her terror. He had to bend down when talking to her, nonchalantly noticing that Buffy’s hazel eyes were wide with fear.

It didn’t bother him.

“I just wanted to talk to you Summers. You see” Angel leant one shoulder against the cubicle he had forced them into, “I’ve never talked to you and its come to my attention that maybe I should have. Cordelia thinks you’re a nice enough girl and sometimes Darla gets a bit much and I was wondering…”

“OUCH!”

Angel sprang away from Buffy faster than lightning, clutching his bitten hand.

“That will teach you to try and smother me in a bathroom you prick!” Buffy had been struggling against Angel’s hand for a full minute when she heard Angel start on about Cordelia. There was no way she was going to let herself be trapped in the same situation, particularly not with a guy that barged into a girl’s bathroom no less and then came onto her. The whole thing was ridiculous. His hand had stunk of weed and motor grease and even after ridding herself of the offending instrument could still scent it. Biting his hand had been a gross but necessary choice.

Now though, Angel was looking far more than annoyed and causing Buffy to get the uneasy feeling that perhaps she should have been more discreet in her rejection.

Angel towered above her, the top of her head barely reaching past the middle of his torso. When she had first arrived as a new student Angel had seemed mysterious and brooding. That mystery had quickly turned to loathing when she realised exactly the type of person Angel could be.

His heavy brow was lined deep in anger as he stared down at her and Buffy began to truly wonder whether anyone would come in time to stop him… that and the worse fear of someone entering and doing nothing about it. The unbitten hand of Angel’s began to clench in frustration, and Buffy steeled herself for the blow. She had been through this before.

She closed her eyes and waited, trying hard not to flinch.

Why won’t he just get it over with? Buffy opened one eye slowly, peering up at her would be attacker in confusion. Where anger had covered his face before, now only anguish and embarrassment did.

“Jesus Buffy, what’s happened to you?”

The question hung in the air for a moment whilst she chose to ignore it. She would never tell anyone like Angel about her issues. The guy already could ruin her reputation just by being alone with her like this. Buffy sighed, thinking of Cordy and the almost guaranteed phone call which would grace her line tonight. Once Angel got you alone, no one believed that nothing happened.

A click of Angel’s fingers in front of her face snapped Buffy out of her daze.

“I’m sorry if I went about this the wrong way Summers” said Angel gruffly. The large man held his head down now as though finally feeling some shame over the way he acted. “I honestly would never have laid a hand on you if I didn’t think you wanted it at least a little bit.” The smirk died on his face as Buffy glared at him. Backing away Angel held both hands up in a sign of defeat. “I would never hit a girl though, no matter the circumstance. I’m sorry I misinterpreted you.”

Buffy gaped at him for a minute, completely amazed that even after intimidating her he had the nerve to say she was leading him on. She took a step forward as though to kick him and really make the bastard sorry before realising just who it was she was dealing with. Angel could make not just her life but Willow’s and Amy’s incredibly painful. If he thought that her biting him was a given invitation then who knew where he would draw the line? All she had was Joyce and a few girls who all had their own issues. There was very little that Angel couldn’t get away with.

At least he’s further away though. That was far too close Summers

Wiping a hand across her eyes, Buffy plopped herself down onto the seat, ignoring Angel’s last comment as she began to cry.

Why did they keep coming after her?

As a rule Spike Giles did not like many things.

After being abandoned by his father to a distant uncle, Spike had found that he did not have much sympathy for anyone. Particularly after his own da’ told him never to return home to jolly old England. The tosser.

From then on, William had become Spike, changing tweed outfits to black leather and bleached hair. The once quiet disposition had been replaced for a casual indifference to everyone around him, sarcastic comments becoming Spike’s most common form of conversation.

Perhaps he would have grown out of it.

Would of most definitely gotten over the whole ‘rebellious phase’ if not for bloody Dru and the wanker Abrams thought Spike viciously.

Parker had taken the one thing that gave his life any form of meaning, flipping him the bird as he’d driven off.

Spike had wanted to kill the bloody fool.

It was Dru’s betrayal and growing tension between him and Rupes which had finally forced Spike to turn to Peaches and his lot, making himself a pivotal figure in the Aurelius gang. There wasn’t much that Spike hadn’t learned from the poofter in his time with them, often driving to LA with Angel for various missions. Though their relationship was strained and odd, the git had never really crossed any lines with Spike.

At least not until he went cavorting after Summers.

Cobalt blue eyes narrowed as the sliding hulk of Angel practically ran from the girl’s bathroom; more than likely from the disheveled form of Buffy.

Not paying any attention to the small group which watched him Spike wrenched open the bathroom door and strode in.

What greeted his sight made the blond do a double take.

There in a small cubicle, sat Buffy Summers, knees drawn up around her so that she appeared angelic like. Her hands were clasped around her legs, the petite girl hugging herself as sobs wracked her body.

All Spike could think as he stared at her shaking frame was the poof’s face and the ways he was going to redecorate it.

Now was not the time though.

Cautious to not scare her, Spike crept forward, tentatively reaching one hand out to touch her shoulder. “Pet?” His voice, normally loud and biting whispered in the quiet cubicle. When he received no reply, Spike placed one hand on her shoulder, crouching in front of Buffy with his duster draped on the floor like a cloak.

“I can’t help you sweetheart if you don’t talk to me.”

“What?” Buffy was inwardly groaning at the disturbance. Just when she thought her day couldn’t get worse, someone had to come in and notice the flood. She wearily tried to wipe her blurring eyes as she felt a heavy hand pat her shoulder. Far too heavy to be anyone but a male… but then again only the Aurelius boys bothered to come into the bathroom and Angel had already taken his leave which left only… Buffy shook her head in laughter, her vision still blurry. It couldn’t be Gasping out loud, Buffy raised her eyes only to be locked in the lightest blue she had ever seen.

Spike

Ashamed of her appearance, Buffy batted away his hand, curling in more on herself. She couldn’t believe that Spike of all people had chosen to walk in here, let alone comfort her.

The adoration she originally felt for Spike only blossomed more.

Deciding that the silly bint was far too shy, Spike placed his arms around her gently, lifting the girl into his arms before sitting back down. Moving his mouth to her ear Spike blew across it, smiling inwardly as he heard a gasp.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

Buffy shivered as his husky baritone sounded right behind her ear. She had no clue why Spike wanted to be near her but she wasn’t going to question it… at least not right now.

Unbidden her common response poured from her lips. “Nothing... I’m just upset about a test.”

Spike chuckled gently, drawing Buffy’s small frame tighter against him. The act went unnoticed by either.

“That’s bollocks and we both know it. You should know better than to lie to someone like me Buffy. Angel doesn’t choose a second in command solely on their looks. Though I think he agrees that I’m devilishly handsome.”

The small laugh which flew from Buffy only made Spike redouble his efforts. At least she’s not shaking anymore.

Taking one tiny hand in his own, Spike marveled at the way it still managed to fit against his. He had no classes in the afternoon and had considered ditching until this episode with peaches and the girl.

Should have known the blighter wouldn’t keep away from her.

Angel had started watching her about a month after Spike did, not wanting the Brit to forget his place. In the poofter’s mind whatever Spike wanted, he deserved. Both had tried to investigate her background, all sources turning up dry as to why her and a drunkard of mum had moved to Sunnyhell in the first place. The only thing that did come out was that daddy Summers had ended their relationship rather messily causing the two to flee LA. Neither could find out the exact reason though.

Spike would of thought (if not knowing Angel better) that the bloke was busy enough with the amount of girls he saw. Many in the gang had started calling the poofter ‘the scourge of women’, what with him collecting so bloody many. Cordelia and Darla were just two of seven birds which were scattered all the way from Sunnyhell to up the coast. There was even one that still regularly rang from New York. Spike sighed as he thought of his leader’s pathetic choice in women, all were hell cats to deal with yet when it came down to the crunch… they couldn’t even fight beyond a scrap over a piece of clothing in a Barney’s sale. Spike didn’t understand it, but Angel had a preference for women who at the heart of it were weak. A trait that would more than likely end in trouble on the day that Angel did meet his match. Spike swore that it wouldn’t be Buffy though.

The girl was still cradled against his chest, but remained silent, perhaps not wanting to speak to the likes of him. He couldn’t blame her for being scared of his appearance. It was very rarely that Spike ever went out of his way to help anyone and rather evident to all around. Even though Angel was a wanker of a boyfriend he still didn’t pity any bint that was stupid enough to get involved with him of their own free will. There just wasn’t anything that warranted the risk.

And now here he was comforting a girl that in all reality he shouldn’t be touching. If Abrams found out anything about Buffy then the girl’s life would become a soap opera filled with the all too real sounds of gunfire. Feeling Buffy nuzzle against him, Spike knew that he couldn’t expose her to that. At least not without warning her of all the dangers.

But really wasn’t he moving a bit fast? The chit might not even like me for all I know… though wouldn’t it be grand if she did. A grin crossed his face like a flying bird, changing to concern as Buffy’s mumbles reached his ears.

“What was that pet?”

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.” Buffy’s face was downcast as she spoke, fearing that he would take her advice and run.

“And why would I do that? Seems that this is the best bloody place to be, what with all the harsh lighting and oh so perfect washroom facilities.” One hand reached up, absently curling her golden hair around his finger. “Besides I can’t leave without you telling what all the sobbing’s about.”

“I was just thinking about my father.”

“Was he a nasty piece of work?” asked Spike.

“I guess you could say that. Angel just reminds me of him in some ways.” Buffy spoke Angel’s name quietly hoping inanely that Spike would ignore it. The tightening of his grip around her proved otherwise.

Deadly calm Spike turned Buffy so that she was facing him, admiring her composure even after being caged in with the sodding poofter.

“What exactly was Angel doing in here luv?”

Hazel eyes glimmered briefly before Buffy shrugged, trying to play off her emotions as though they didn’t exist. “Just wanted to talk.”

I bet he bloody well did.

“He didn’t push you for anything?”

Spike watched her carefully, knowing full well that something had occurred. Wanker couldn’t keep his hands off a woman if they were cut off. As if he bloody well didn’t touch Buffy. But then she wouldn’t tell would she?

The abrupt shake of her head only confirmed Spike’s suspicions. Far too quick of a denial Part of him wanted for her to tell him the truth and not hide it away as so many of his other conquests had. It had taken months before Cordelia would even mention the great poof as anything other than perfect. It was because of this that he was able to reason that if she didn’t want to talk about it he wouldn’t force her. Angel’s broken nose would more than compensate.

Hugging her to him for a moment, Spike resisted the urge to kiss her on lips, instead opting for her forehead. His lips barely brushed her skin, the heady scent of vanilla making Spike want to groan and kiss her senseless. Just being alone with her for what seemed a short period of time had already caused him to feel far more than Dru ever could.

As though realising that he wanted to leave, Buffy leapt out of his arms, smoothing down her skirt in hasty movements. In her mind Spike was only being friendly and considerate, what any guy would have done if not an utter prick like Angel.

And here you go lying to yourself again Summers The little voice in the background sounded almost like her mother sober. Probably would echo her, if Buffy could ever get the woman to stop drinking.

Sighing Buffy unconsciously pulled her hair back from her face, meeting Spike’s eyes unbidden.

Good gods he’s gorgeous

Spike’s duster was still on the floor, leaving the Brit in a tight black shirt and pants which should have been made illegal. Every inch of him was compact and muscular, Buffy being able to make out his abs with only a cursory glance. If she had been daring enough she would have looked lower.

Her eyes started to make their way down that path before realising the mistakes which could occur. If Angel told Spike what everyone else must by now believe then this could all come back to bite her in the ass.

Hard.

It’s a good thing I didn’t tell him she thought decidedly. Only trouble could come of it.

“Thank you Spike.”

The Brit merely grinned, awarding her with a sheepish smile that very few ever saw. “It was nothing pet. Just next time you go in here, lock the bloody door. I don’t think you want me escorting you every time you need to fix your makeup or whatever it is you birds do.”

Buffy smiled warmly at him, her voice wanting to scream ‘please follow me, take me everywhere with you!’ It took everything inside of her to beat that voice into submission, instead grinning goofily as Spike tucked a stray lock behind one ear.

“I’ll see you around Goldilocks.”

For the next few days all Buffy could do was stare at Spike. Part of her was hoping desperately that the bathroom incident had been a figment of her imagination, Angel being someone she’d like to forget in a heart beat. However in opposition there was the memory of Spike wrapping his arms around her and whispering in her ear.

If only he’d do it again.

She knew something had transpired between Angel and Spike when the glowering brunette had come to school the next day with a bandaged nose. The whole cafeteria had buzzed with it and the possible repercussions however things went on as normal. Spike even patting his leader on the back after a particularly nasty joke on a geek called Andrew.

Everyone resumed their normal routine all except for Buffy. The petite blond had run from class to class anxiously, wanting to be the first to lunch in case Spike wanted to talk to her.

He never did though.

Every time Buffy had tried to catch his eye, Spike would dart away, causing her to feel completely miserable. More often than not, his head was cast down, Harmony taking every chance she could to touch him. Buffy had overheard her telling the other girls about her ‘blondie bear’s commitment issues’ and run from the scene in disgust.

She was about to give up on the whole thing altogether and let Amy finally have a go when once more Angel approached her. This time in the main hallway which Buffy was more than thankful for.

Cordelia had indeed ended up ringing her about the bathroom incident, crying her eyes out and swearing like a sailor. Unfortunately she blamed Buffy, unwilling to cast any blame on her boyfriend and risk losing his attention.

Needless to say Buffy wasn’t happy when Angel decided to talk to her again.

***

Angel had already known that Will liked the girl but the beating which was served proved beyond a doubt that Buffy Summers was more than just a good lay waiting to be had.

She was revenge material.

If Angel was a good friend he would have left the whole situation alone and gone about his merry way with the three or more girls he had trailing along. Unfortunately he wasn’t… or at least not when it came to asserting his dominance.

Besides, the Brit had stayed away from her all week like he was evading the plague. Probably worried about getting her mixed up in something she couldn’t handle.

The brunette smirked.

He had never had a problem with dragging girls into the world he lived in. Angel figured that it was their prerogative to evade him if they didn’t like the people he hanged with. Not that it was easy by any means to escape Angel once he decided you were an ‘Aurelius girl’. He still told them in the end, even took one or two to LA to see what ‘The Master’ thought of them but by then they were already considered his to everyone else. Any guy with a brain wouldn’t consider dating them unless he had serious backup. A welcome relief to many of his women, particularly Cordelia. The Harris kid wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole now.

Darla had been his first ‘supporter’ and had known well and truly before they got involved of the risks. She also understood the type of relationship they would have and just like all the others after her accepted it without any qualms. Cordelia was the only one who would become upset with him and it happened on such a routine basis that Angel could simply ignore her and wait for the cheerleader to get over it.

Watching Summers though, made him wonder whether the fiery blond would be so accepting. It had shocked the hell out of him when the small girl had bit his hand, never before being rejected after he made his intentions clear. And rather than angering him it only made Angel want her more.

He could never really consider Darla or Cordelia as prime material, and the other girls even less so but with Buffy… now there was potential.

With Buffy he could finally proclaim himself to the larger gang leaders in LA as something besides a high school wannabe. If he had such a beautiful girl on his arm, who obviously could handle herself… then others wouldn’t be able to help immediately respecting him. Not to mention the anguish which would paint Spike’s face if he could convince Buffy to date him.

No doubt Will wanted to keep her as far away from Parker and his gang as he could, something which Angel could agree with except for the fact that it was impossible. Already, contacts outside of school had informed Angel of the rival leader’s interest and it wouldn’t be too long before ‘The Initiative’ ventured on to Sunnydale turf. If Angel didn’t claim her then the girl would undoubtedly be taken by Parker.

And then all hell would break loose.

The last war over Dru had been epic in proportions, the hospital overflowing with wounded gang members. Spike had been right in the thick of it whirling a chain and fighting with his bare hands. Angel could remember the sickening thuds as Spike like a titan had kicked and punched his way closer to Dru. The lean form of Parker though had stepped in his way, causing Spike to charge recklessly.

It nearly cost him his life.

Parker was no fool in a fight and seeing the charge, quickly stepped to the side swinging a heavy pipe into Spike’s ribs. The force of the blow snapped one instantly and nearly shattered another, causing the bleached blond to double over in pain. Angel had stopped Parker from delivering a killing blow across Will’s head but not before Abrams split an eyebrow open, blood pouring onto the ground. Spike had been knocked out for over six hours before finally awaking and by that time Parker had already fled.

When Spike woke to find Angel at his hospital bed, with corny balloons in tow, the Brit finally accepted him as leader. He took the honorable blood oath in a stinking alley as soon as he was discharged.

And as far as Angel was concerned that was it. Even if Spike pushed Angel to the ends of his limits, the brunette never doubted the Brit’s loyalty. He would trust Spike with his life and had done it countless times already.

They did keep their secrets though.

Angel did not find out till sometime afterwards of Spike’s and Parker’s private meeting which of course ended in a bloody mess. Spike despite six brand new stitches thoroughly kicking Parker’s ass before pulling out a gun. He’d only heard rumors which of course came from the opposition during interrogation but supposedly Dru had stopped him before he could pull the trigger.

Many of the gang still wondered whether Spike regretted not killing the sick bastard. As it stood, Dru was officially Abram’s property, choosing to go with Parker rather than Spike when the dust settled.

It just about killed him.

Angel didn’t want to think how him moving on the Summers girl would affect Spike but then he was the leader. And didn’t his rights come first?

Angel sighed, patting one hand over his hair to make sure the gel was still firmly in place. Yep, still there and thus looking fine as ever.

Today he wore slightly brighter clothes with a heavy leather jacket over top. It covered perfectly the hilt of his silver pistol.

You could never be too careful.

Buffy was standing next to her locker, a bundle of books clutched in her thin arms as she stared into the distance. Probably watching Spike. To confirm his suspicions Angel gazed along her eye’s path, landing directly on Spike’s slouched form.

Just perfect

Deciding to continue anyway, Angel stalked towards Buffy until he was an inch from her face.

”Can I talk to you Summers?”

Shocked hazel eyes stared at him for a moment before a look of true hatred crossed her face.

“Here’s just fine Angel” she spat.

He nodded abruptly. He may like the girl’s temper but Angel was entirely sure that he could control her. Maybe it is better to leave her for Spike he mused. He always knew what to do when Dru became trapped in one of her moods. Angel peered down at the fiery blond who’s lips were tinged a faint pink which also covered her cheeks. She was breathtaking.

Screw Spike.

“I guess I’ll get straight to the point” said Angel quietly, not wanting to draw more attention to this conversation then possible. “Everyone already thinks that something went on with us last week in the bathroom and I’m really not the adverse to making that rumor true. I like you Summers and I’m sure if you gave me a chance you would reciprocate the feelings.”

Buffy gasped at him in pure surprise. Who on earth does this guy think he is propositioning me in the middle of a crowded hallway? Does he have no morals?

Angel’s chuckle as he tried to touch her hair answered her question.

Obviously not.

“Don’t do that.” Buffy backed away from him slightly, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Spike was watching the exchange. Please come over here now. Please…

“I don’t want to be another member of your harem Angel and I find it disgusting that you would ask me in such a manner. If you can’t be satisfied with Darla and my friend Cordelia then what makes you think I’d be any different?”

“Because you are Buffy” said Angel with just a tinge of awe. “There’s no one else that has ever stood up to me, not even in preschool. You have a fire and I need that… Besides you don’t have a choice.”

“What do you mean? You can’t force me Angel!”

Angel’s reply was grim. “I don’t have to. Parker will be all over you so fast that you’ll be begging me for a second chance and you know what Summers? It will be too late then. Once Abrams gets you there is no going back.” Angel was leaning dramatically over her now, trapping Buffy in the small space between his arms. Just as she was about to try to knee him, the brunette halted his tirade, frowning in frustration.

Never turning his back, Angel addressed the angry blond which stood behind him. “What do you want Spike?”

“A sodding explanation would be nice Angel.” Spike’s face which was normally composed in either a sneer or boredom was contorted in rage. “I thought that after bashing your bloody head in you would have learned to leave the girl alone.” His eyes a brilliant blue never left Angel’s form, Spike feeling too shy to look at Buffy.

I wish it hadn’t come to this.

He had avoided Buffy on purpose, believing that if he didn’t draw attention to her, Angel would give up his pursuit.

He was utterly wrong.

Now Angel was moving in on her that much more strongly that Spike would be forced to get involved. That, or bite his lip and watch as Angel walked all over her.

To bleeding hell with that.

Stepping forward, Spike shoved Angel back from Buffy, deciding that if it came to it they would fight. He shoved his gun away from easy reach, not willing to let the situation become something too serious. Angel would back down rather than lose him over a girl.

Even if she’s bloody gorgeous thought Spike whilst staring at her.

He never noticed the punch which slammed into his head.

Falling back, Spike could barely make out his leader’s words as his head smashed against the hard floor. He struggled up again, ignoring the smarting pain and glaring at the poof.

“Is she really worth this Will?” Angel’s face was impassive trying hard to rein back the anger which clawed inside. He really desperately wanted Buffy as his.

“I’m sorry Peaches but yeah.” Spike didn’t dare take a step closer to Buffy afraid that she could get hurt if Peaches swung again.

The wanker had a piss poor aim.

Angel nodded, not needing to inform Spike of the dangers in choosing her. At least with him Parker would think twice before approaching her but with Spike and his personal history? Spike would have to be on guard at all hours of the day.

Buffy who had watched the entire sense with amazement quickly felt her patience die. If either of these two idiots thought that she would simply become theirs because of some pissing match then they were wrong. Buffy Summers was not property. And certainly not a thing which needed to be protected from this Parker guy. She was a woman and thus had rights. One of them being the right to escape fools by the names of Angel Aureli and Spike Giles.

Not waiting a further second, Buffy kicked Spike in the shin and then Angel, striding out of the school with her head held high. This whole gang thing was far overstated anyway.

Right?

As soon as she saw the exit to the high school, Buffy broke into a run, wanting nothing more than to escape the two men and the problems they brought with them.

It stunk of her life before in LA and the sick promises Hank had made to both her and her mother. The divorce and the events leading up to it had made dents in Buffy’s armor but Joyce was completely broken and unable to function. She’d stopped calling her mom after the second overdose. Buffy could remember quite clearly ringing the ambulance and riding in it to the hospital, her mother’s face smeared with what looked like self raising flour.

Buffy had been left in the waiting area as they rushed her away, the interns not even telling the thirteen year old how she was. She had paced the room before amusing herself with the candy machine not knowing exactly what to do. Her dad was away on ‘business’ and not be disturbed under any circumstance. Buffy didn’t want to take the risk of him being angry with her again so she did not touch the pay phone. The bruises from last time still stung.

Eight hours later a doctor had returned, note pad clutched in his hand as he informed her that “Joyce Summers has made a recovery.”

It only took one little sentence for Buffy to realise that she was alone.

Perhaps it was the detached way they told her, knowing that she was the daughter but still not addressing her as such.

Joyce Summers.

It sounded deceiving.

As though her mother was just another depressed woman who had taken it too far. It was like the name absolved her of any responsibilities. She wasn’t a mother to her nor even a wife, just a random addict. From that instant onwards Buffy knew she couldn’t fulfill those roles any longer. Joyce had tried to escape from everything… including her.

A slight sniffle broke the silence as Buffy slowed to a steady walk not looking where she was going.

Sometimes she still called Joyce 'mother' but it was so quiet that the woman never heard it. The name was far easier allowing Buffy to have some detachment from the sad open expression of her only real relative, even if she was never completely with it.

The only true blessing that Buffy could make from Joyce’s ‘habit’ was that it was well hidden. Since coming to Sunnydale she had cleaned herself up somewhat, even running a gallery and gallivanting off with her friends.

However she couldn’t look at her daughter anymore, seeing Buffy as a reminder of her doomed marriage and her failures, which even now occurred regularly.

Buffy looked up from the sidewalk she had been slowly contemplating. Without realising her feet had carried her to her current home:

1620 Revello Drive.

Sighing with some small sense of comfort, Buffy noted that her mother’s wait no Joyce’s car was not parked in the driveway.

Alone again.

***

“Bleeding buggering hell!” shouted Spike paying no mind to the group of students which gathered around. Buffy had embarrassed them both in front of every pupil in the whole of Sunnydale high.

Parker would laugh his ass off when he heard about it.

Clutching his leg which ached with a pain not often felt, Spike felt a weird sense of pride swell inside.

The chit can kick better than Beckham.

He winced again as his leader finally made a comment. Hopefully the wanker had received a harder blow, what with him suffering the first kick. Spike was regretting being the closest to her, yet was thankful that she hadn’t been more pissed off. He didn’t want to know about her punches.

“You know this sucks right?” Angel looked over at his second in command, clutching his shin in one hand as he leant against the locker for support. The Summers girl had smashed her foot into his leg also and Angel could already feel a bruise forming.

How am I going to explain this to Cordelia?

With another litany of curses Spike finally acknowledged the poofter, wanting to kick his other shin for causing the problem in the first place. If he had just left Buffy alone they would never have had her bashing them around before running out the door.

With a start Spike realised that she had been gone for far longer than five minutes. Definitely not a good thing in Sunnydale. He made to let go of his leg before letting out another cry of pain.

It would take at least another minute before he could walk and even then he’d be limping.

“Of course I know that!” Spike glared at Angel with the first true malice he’d felt since last week. He’d tried to be nice to the poof but if he kept bollocking everything up? Spike would be forced to properly kick his ass. And after today, would enjoy it thoroughly.

Knowing where the bleached blonde’s thoughts were going, Angel slid forward slowly until they were close, not wanting to move more than was possible. He would never live this down if anyone heard them.

“I’m sorry.” Angel’s heavy brows were drawn together in what he hoped was an empathetic expression. Spike would easily be able to kick his ass even with the damaged leg.

Spike growled turning away from Angel in an attempt to resist the urge to knock the wanker to the floor. “You knew that she was not to be touched Peaches. I told you specifically that she was not for your bloody harem.” He kept his voice low in acknowledgement of the apology knowing that the poofter had to be well and truly sorry in order to admit fault.

Doesn’t make up for the fact that he came after Buffy though.

Spike stuffed his hands deep into his pocket, absently twisting the Desoto’s keys around a finger. As soon as Angel finished his pathetic excuses Spike would be gone, driving off after Buffy.

Couldn’t bear it if she hated me.

The betrayal which had shone in her eyes had startled Spike for a moment; making him want to toss away his image and beg her for forgiveness. He’d only spoken to her once before but already Spike felt this desperate need to protect her and make her his. There was no way he could allow Angel to pursue her.

Not whilst I’m still known as William the Bloody thought Spike darkly.

Angel sighed, leaning his body up beside the Brit. The bell had gone long ago and he realised that this issue would not be resolved instantly.

As it anything with Spike ever is.

“I had to do it” said Angel with a hint of finality. “You wouldn’t go near the girl all week and hell Will I am a man.”

Spike didn’t bother to look at him, knowing that the brunette’s blood didn’t always rush south. Angel was hiding something.

“You know how I feel about her Peaches. You shouldn’t have done it.”

Angel frowned not liking the way this conversation was headed. The Brit’s tone was almost possessive if not loving… something which Angel had only heard in the man’s voice once before. If Will got too involved with Summers then things would suddenly become far more serious for not just Spike but the Aurelius gang as a whole.

Trying to remind Spike of the repercussions Angel mentioned Parker. “I’ve been hearing from Faith lately.”

The response was non committal. Spike shrugged before asking a belated “and?”.

“Abrams knows about her.”

Angel waited for Spike to explode in another torrent of “bloody hells” and curses. The Brit couldn’t go more than five words without swearing when discussing the “sodding fucking git who couldn’t beat me in a fight if I was tied up and blind.”

Spike however remained tight lipped, making Angel realise that it was worse than he feared. The whole thing was another Drusillaesque tragedy in the making.

Just what I need with the Master breathing down my neck thought Angel ruefully.

“He’s already sent scouts out to find where she lives Spike and I don’t know how long it will be before he decides to simply take her. We both know the mom is oblivious and the cops around here are more aware of Krispy Cremes than any of our dealings. At least with me she could stay at the house and be safe.” Angel raised his hand, rubbing at his temples to relieve some of the tension which was coiled inside. “I know you like her Will and hell I do to. She’s a spitfire. But if I don’t take her as mine then we both know what will happen.”

Angel held his breath for a moment before Spike grabbed the lapels of his jacket slamming him into the lockers.

“Don’t act so sodding noble Peaches.” Spike’s eyes were a stunning blue, with flecks of red from lack of sleep interspersed. He looked like hell. “I appreciate your concern for Buffy but don’t you dare lie to me and say that you wouldn’t benefit from grabbing a piece of ass and showing it off around town.” Spike shook his head derisively, letting the heavier brunette down. “You forget that I know you.”

For a moment the corridor was silent. Spike was breathing hard trying to control the rage he felt boiling inside. If anyone else had dared tell him that they were stealing his girl as a favour, they’d be dead. Pure and simple. Angel was lucky that Spike even tolerated him standing there.

“In spite of that Peaches I do understand slightly what you did.” Spike never bothered to look at Angel already knowing that the brunette’s face would be covered in shock. “I’ve been through a hell of a lot of shit with you and I can't see it being one of your motives to screw me." Spike's chuckle was rough and humorless, not wanting to let any of his emotions grab hold and rip Angel's head off. "Despite that I’m going to tell you this once.” Spike locked his eyes, his declaration dripping with rage. “Buffy’s mine and if you touch her again or in anyway proposition her they’ll be finding your sodding body for weeks. That and I’ll set fire to all your bloody hair products.” The Brit smirked for a moment, knowing that Angel would take the gesture for what it was. “I’ll bring her by the house latest by tomorrow and I’ll be moving in also.”

The brunette nodded. He had expected as much.

“Should I bother introducing her to the gang or should we make her family instantly?”

Spike shrugged, knowing that either way Buffy would put up a fight. “Do what you feel is best Angel, you’re the leader. Just as long as everyone knows she’s mine.”

Angel once again nodded, not needing to speak to know the issue was settled. Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into Spike. The brunette looked at the ground, noticing that the tiles were forced together like a jig saw puzzle. He would wait till later to tell Spike about the latest news from Masters. Angel doubted that neither Spike nor Parker knew the real importance of the girl. He himself was not entirely sure that it was true.

Already ruing himself Angel gestured towards the exit, eyes not once meeting his second command’s and if he was truly honest, only real friend.

“Go get your girl Spike.”

The Brit smirked, clapping Peaches on the back with a blow that would force others to their knees. “Thanks Angel” he muttered, striding out with a pronounced limp.

“Your welcome.”

Spike stared up at the two storey house feeling incredibly nervous. He had known the way to her house with barely a wrong turn but he’d only ever driven by it. Now he was going to try and get an invite.

Not an easy task after Buffy had run away from him.

Spike brushed one hand through his hair in agitation, ruffling it unconsciously into unruly curls. The toes of his Doc Martens were slightly scuffed and for the first time in a good while he actually cared. What if Buffy’s mother was home? Was he dressed appropriately?

The bleached Brit snorted for a moment, slightly embarrassed at his less than bad ass thoughts. Angel would be laughing his ass if he could see him now. Though Spike thought he had some right in being anxious. Rupert had given him free rein long ago and though the old man still tried sometimes to exert discipline both knew it was merely a show. Spike’s uncle was the furthest from a role model as you could come by. Angel had met the man once and ever since then called him Ripper.

A name that Rupes affectionately gave to a ‘misspent youth.’

Spike smiled. He didn’t know what he would have done without Rupert’s mid life crisis. The man had supported him like no one else.

Glancing at the house once more, Spike gulped loudly before stepping up to the porch and ringing the bell.

Here I bloody well go.

***

Buffy looked up from her diary, stunned as she heard the door bell ring. As far as she knew they never had visitors unless Joyce was home and even then it was a rare affair. Shrugging to herself, she once more bent over the small lavender book, contemplating exactly what she should write. Everything she had ever witnessed or felt was recorded in it and other like decorated books. She kept them hidden under her mattress knowing Joyce would never be bothered to investigate and that they would be relatively safe.

She jumped on her bed again when the door bell once more sounded.

WHO IS THAT?!

Buffy stomped down the stairs, green sushi pajamas forgotten and wrenched open the door expecting to find a traveling salesmen.

Instead she found a rather miserable looking Spike, the man staring down at the ground with his finger still pressed against the door bell button.

Oh God.

Buffy’s face which before had been furrowed into a frown was now flame red in embarrassment. Here she was in some lame pajamas whilst the hottest guy she had ever seen stood there on her doorstep. Contemplating whether to slam the door and hide Buffy decided to take the brave approach. After all if he did something she didn’t like she could easily kick him from across the threshold.

That’s if he would ever look at her.

The Brit still stood looking at the ground, an odd expression hidden by curled peroxide locks. His black duster rested heavily on his shoulders and if Buffy didn’t know any better seemed to weigh him down, as though carrying past deeds in its voluminous layers.

Finally he rose his eyes, the blue orbs never failing to evict a response. They swam now with an unreadable expression, communicating both a strong possessiveness and also affection.

Buffy shivered.

“What do you want?”

Spike shrugged, looking past her into the house. He could see no hint of any other person and was secretly pleased. It would make his news a little bit easier to impart. Ignoring her question Spike asked one of his own.

“May I come in pet?”

His hand reached out towards the frame, long lean fingers casually brushing it as he stepped closer. He had wanted to touch her face but opted for the doorway after remembering her earlier response towards him.

She’d rather let the Boogeyman in than me he thought depressingly.

Buffy glared at him for a moment, before surprising them both, moving away from the entrance with barely any hesitation. “Sure.”

She flushed as Spike walked across the threshold wanting the earth to swallow her whole. Why couldn’t I just dress sluttily for once instead of going to straight to comfort clothing?

She looked down at the garish bright green before trying to smooth out the noticeable creases.

It was hopeless.

“I wanted to explain what happened today Buffy. I went about things completely wrong and I need you to hear what I have to say.” Spike’s voice came out as a rough grumble, paying far too much attention to Buffy’s outfit rather than the house itself. The chit looked absolutely adorable with her golden hair bundled to one side in a messy ponytail. She obviously was embarrassed her cheeks a deep pink and Spike relished the open glow which lighted her face. It was refreshing when compared to the rather blunt stories that Darla and Faith would tell at the ‘house’.

Wanting to see her cheeks flame a brilliant red again, Spike met her hazel eyes before doing a slow double take, smirking as she ducked her head.

Absolutely bleeding gorgeous.

They stood there for a minute simply staring at each other before Buffy realised that she should find out what he exactly wanted. Averting her gaze again, the petite blond rushed to the other side of the kitchen island, cleaning up dirty pots and pans that Joyce had left out.

Knowing that this was her way of hiding embarrassment, Spike sat down on one of the stools, completely dwarfing it. “When Angel talked to you today pet, did he mention a Parker Abrams?”

Buffy nodded, wiping harder at a stain. It was far easier than meeting the hard gaze of Spike who could make her melt just from walking into a room. She could barely believe that he leaned across the countertop, not an arm’s reach from her. Spying a look she could see his elbows which jutted out precariously whilst his gaze focused on her. He didn’t even bother to pretend that anything else held his interest.

Sighing Spike took her nod as a signal to continue, wishing that the chit would say something rather then merely gesture. “Did he tell anything about him?”

Buffy placed the pot down, guessing that nods and shrugging were not going to deter the Brit from questioning her. “He just told me that Parker could make my life miserable and some crap about how bad ass Abrams is.” Buffy rolled her eyes thinking that this gang notion had gone a little bit too quick to their heads. Her father could really show them how it was done. “I don’t know why Angel thinks its such a big deal that I date him to be honest with you. The whole thing sounds ridiculous. If this Parker guy was any real problem then the police would have dealt with him already.” She smiled at Spike disarmingly, hoping that he would confirm her ideas.

He did the exact opposite.

In a bitter laugh she would have attributed to a person in perpetual suffering Spike practically shoved her ideas down the sink. And thus propagated her fears.

“You’re a bloody fool if you think that the cops will do anything about Parker luv” he said harshly. “They are all paid by him and various gangs from up the coast to stay well and truly out of any affairs related to Sunnydale and LA. Parker and I guess you could say Angel, own the sodding cops.” He flicked open his Zippo lighter, staring at the flame rather than Buffy’s heartbroken expression. “Parker runs the rival gang to ours, and has always been messing around in our business.”

And women he added silently.

“We each speak to higher bosses up in LA but if you think this is all a pretty game then guess again Princess. Some of us may be in high school but graduation is very near and I guarantee you that I’ve already done more than half the bloody kids in our school dream about.” He finally glanced at her, slightly relieved to see the calm expression which graced her features.
She’s shielding herself from me.

Spike waited a moment as the golden blond stared directly at him. “How does that involve me?” she asked bluntly. “I’ve had nothing to do with you or your gang.”

Spike’s reply was quick. “It doesn’t matter. Parker will want you purely for the fact that I do and just like me won’t stop. With the gang you’ll have protection from him.” He gestured one arm to the wide kitchen space and empty home. “You’d always have a family Buffy.”

She gaped at him for a moment, her lips mimicking a fish out of water. He wants me? ME? Buffy couldn’t believe it. They’d only spoken once before and had spent the rest of the time receiving looks of longing. Well at least she had, Spike hadn’t even bothered to look at her before last week as far as Buffy knew.

“How can you want me? You don’t even know me.”

Spike moved quickly around the countertop, a deadly smirk crossing his face as he came increasingly closer.

“But I do luv. I’ve watched you ever since you arrived in this god forsaken town and Buffy, you shine. I never talked to you because I was afraid of getting you wrapped up in this mess of a life, but believe me when I say this, I wanted to talk to you.” One hand reached up to cup her face lovingly, Spike cocking his head to the side as he gazed at her. “I’ve always wanted you Summers and always will.” His thumb brushed her cheek in soothing gestures as he noticed the plump pink flesh that was her lips.

I’ll bloody well combust if I don’t kiss her.

Moving closer until there was no space between them, Spike leant down to whisper in her ear. He wanted to give her one last chance to back out before he went too far. Once he kissed her, Spike doubted that he would ever be able to let her go. Blowing gently on her ear, Spike words were practically growled, the other hand curling around her waist.

“I’m going to kiss you Buffy and you’ll have to tell me right now if your not interested. I’ll give you time to get used to me but if you kiss me, then you belong to me. You’ll be mine.” His inner William winced slightly at the possessive tone which filled his voice, knowing it was necessary and impossible to stop but worried over the girl’s reaction. It would be difficult to convince her if he scared her off so early.

Buffy had no such qualms though. She barely heard any of his declaration, the words of “kiss” and “mine” sending a thrill throughout her entire body. She had wanted this for so long.

Tilting her head up towards Spike, Buffy waited, not knowing what she was fully accepting but knowing that if he didn’t kiss her soon she would faint from the anticipation.

The caress of soft lips across her own was beyond all imaginings. The gentle brush so light that she wondered whether Spike was dragging a feather across her lips rather than the oh so pliable flesh she had stared at endlessly. She didn’t have to wait a moment longer, Spike’s mouth crushing demandingly across hers as he lost all will to go gentle. He wanted the girl and had claimed her as his. If not to the gang then at least to Angel. As far as he was concerned he could relax slightly. The pleasure of finally having her in his arms far outweighed any other experience he had ever participated in.

Spike moaned into her mouth as he felt her tongue slide across his bottom lip, nipping at it with his own.

A bloke could get used to this.

Neither saw the spying eyes at the window.

They stood there for several minutes simply relishing in the taste of each other’s lips. She had been kissed before but nothing compared to the way Spike gave everything inside him into each treasured caress. Buffy sighed in pleasure as his tongue once again swept across her mouth. He was an absolute god at kissing.

Make that the god of absolute everything she thought with satisfaction as she felt Spike’s hand sweep down her left side gently. His other hand was cradling the back of her neck as though she was far more precious to him than anything he’d owned before. Smiling into the kiss which flowed from possessive to loving, Buffy reached her arms around his narrow waist in order to pull him closer. Her small deft fingers followed the waistband knowing that she could barely think when he was touching her like this.

Instead of warm soft skin she felt a cold metal.

That’s weird.

Her hand dipped into the inside of his pants, gripping the hilt of what only could be a gun.

Suddenly kissing him didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore.

Breaking the kiss, Buffy stared hard into his eyes not wanting to reveal her terror. Tapping the gun which sat snugly to the back of one of his hips, she asked unflinchingly “what’s this?”

The Brit cocked his head surprised that she was upset about the weapon. He’d thought that she would be okay with this aspect of his life considering he told her he was in a gang. What was he supposed to carry if not a gun?

“You mean this?” he said calmly whilst placing the heavy semi automatic on the countertop. He still had one hand resting on her soft curves but knew that he’d probably be kicked out before the hour was up.

The chit didn’t seem to want to accept anything but her idea of reality.

“Yes that.” Her response was quiet this time but nonetheless angry. How can I ever be with someone who carries around a gun in suburbia? “Why did you bring a gun into my home?”

Spike raised an eyebrow as though to say ‘why do you even bother asking’. Instead he replied calmly, thinking that it wouldn’t be good to have an argument. Even if she’s begging for one. “I thought that Parker might be here luv.” His face fell at her unchanging expression. “What did you expect Buffy? You’re my girl and I have to be able to protect you.”

“Well what if I don’t want to be?”

Buffy schooled her features not to react to the pain which crossed Spike’s face. Even if she adored this man she refused to be controlled. Especially if the only reason he wanted her was to prove something to Parker.

“You don’t mean that” said Spike roughly. He pushed back away from her trying to stop the sinking feeling in his stomach. If he had to he’d take her from the house by force. There was no way any other bloke would be touching her.

“Maybe I do” she replied. “You say that I’m yours and I belong to you but when did I ever get a say in the matter?”

“I told you right before I kissed you!”

Buffy crossed her arms knowing he had a point but still refusing to back down. “But you never said that you would change my entire life Spike. I have a home here, normal friends and you are asking me to consign my life to you because of some random threat.”

“Abrams is not a random threat.” Spike’s voice had now risen, sick of the silly bint and her independence streak. If she didn’t want to see sense then he’d force her to. “The last girl he took from Gunn ended up floating in the dam Buffy, and she was just a plaything for him. Knowing that I care for you like I do, Parker would find more than just one or two ways to completely destroy you.”

He stuffed both hands into his duster pockets. “That’s part of the reason I came here to talk to you Buffy. He won’t bother waiting to snatch you on the street; Parker will simply take you from your home.” Spike sighed ruffling his peroxide locks which hung slightly in mimicry of his William days. “I spoke to Angel and he’s willing to let you move into the house.” He saw her face fall into an outraged mask and hurriedly continued. “I’ll be moving in also pet” he said soothingly. “And I already practically live there with some of the gang so it won’t be such a big deal. And from there I can protect you as well as the gang.”

Buffy stood there completely flabbergasted. In one minute her world had gone from being relatively stable to completely upside down. He wants me to move into a house full of gang members and ANGEL!?!? Leave my home and completely become part of his world? Buffy felt like shaking the thought was so frightening. Since she had come to Sunnydale she had come to feel like her life was slightly stable but this? Everything is moving way to fast.

“I can’t do that.”

Spike lost what little remaining patience he had. “WHY IN THE BLEEDING HELL NOT?” he roared. Never in his life since becoming Spike had anyone ever so blatantly refused him. It made him see red.

“What’s so good about being here Buffy? Your mum obviously doesn’t give a shit, leaving you all alone in the sodding house and those friends?” Spike snorted in anger. “Not one of them could be bothered coming to your aid when Angel had you cornered in the bleeding cubicle. I could easily just let you be taken by Parker and sit back waiting for your body to surface after a week but instead I’m offering you a chance. Why won’t you take it?”

She stared at him for a moment, shocked that she had reduced his stoic calm to actual anger. Whenever she had listened to anyone praise him, they always talked about the Brit’s ability to remain indifferent and calculating.

His eyes positively swam with emotion now. Buffy watched him almost in a trance as he visibly exploded in front of her. He’s right. Spike really could just watch me be killed by this guy and be no worse for wear. Her heart jumped a little as she remembered his declaration from earlier.

if you kiss me, then you belong to me. You’ll be mine.

Utterly possessive in tone and if she was truthful maybe even loving.

Needing to know his motive if she could ever really trust him, Buffy cut short his monologue with a glance.

“Why do you care?”

Spike spluttered. He had absolutely no answer that he could give without damning himself in the process and scaring her right off. “I just do” he said quietly. “I can’t help it.”

Buffy sighed, shaking her head for a moment as though trying to drive her emotions away. She needed to get out of the house before she held up a white flag and gave into him. If he couldn’t admit more than a male desire for her then why should she accept his help? Another girl could easily come along and then she’d be worse off than before and more than likely in love with him beyond all hope of recovery.

There was no way she could live with that kind of fear.

Not looking at him again, Buffy stared at the floor, making her decision. He’d have to force her to go to this house and she’d fight him all the way. Turning from him, Buffy rushed up the stairs towards her room, locking the door once inside. She barely had it closed before she felt the heavy weight of Spike slam into the other side.

Spike had glared at her retreating form recognising the intent to flee when she stared at the floor. He’d had no choice but to run after her, not positive as to why she had decided to flee. I’ll probably drop dead from shock if she stayed in one place for longer than a hour he thought ruefully. She’s either bloody well running from me or inflicting physical damage.

Jumping the stairs three at a time, he quickly made it to her door only to have it slam shut in his face. The audible click of the lock made his heart leap in his throat. What is she going to do now?

Kicking at the door, Spike tried every possible means of breaking it, not positive how he should react. Most women were more than willing to belong to him and many had already begged to join the gang. Somehow he didn’t think Buffy would appreciate hearing that.

Calling through the wood, Spike begged her to let him in. He didn’t want to punch a hole through but if he had to he would.

Waiting a full five minutes, Spike pulled his fist back before slamming it through the wood, not even flinching at the blood which poured. He’d suffered worse.

He shoved the now useless lock onto the ground, swinging the door open.

Her green sushi pajamas were strewn across the floor as well as numerous other clothes in her rush to hurry. The window was wide open, a tree limb just within reach.

She was gone.

The streetlights were eerie, hanging above the sidewalk as though like markers to say how far she had run. The lights themselves, heavy tear drop bulbs reminded her of time bombs just waiting to drop.

Maybe I should have listened to him.

Buffy had fled the house with something akin to a track record, hastily dragged on clothes clinging to her body. Looking down at her tight red leather pants and the snug tank top she wondered again what had possessed her to put on these particular clothes out of all the ones in her wardrobe. In an area such as this they were not the smartest choice by a long shot. Looking around her, Buffy realised that she’d made her way to the bad side of town, rubbish strewing the streets.

Some Sunnydale she thought with contempt.

Once upon a time, the elderly had said that Sunnydale was a nice town, clean and relatively free from crime. The streets were never littered on and it was common for shops to be open till well after dark. Of course back then there had been nothing to fear.

Buffy had thought they had been joking and laughed before noticing the serious looks which graced their features. They felt that they had lost their town and scanning the stinking alleyways and lonely streets she agreed with them.

It wasn’t safe out here.

Shrugging off her hesitation, Buffy kept to the sidewalk, evading the shadows which loomed from the buildings. She was very quickly realising that this had been a terrible decision.

Her footsteps echoed on the concrete, the high heeled boots doing nothing to reinforce her security. It would be difficult to run any decent speed in them without tripping. Pausing for a moment, Buffy heard the whisper of footsteps from just behind. She turned swiftly, bracing herself for an attacker yet saw an empty footpath.

I must be hearing things.

She pivoted again, walking rapidly as once again the sound of separate footsteps echoed from behind.

Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look. She repeated it blindly in her head, breaking into a full blown run as the person behind her gave up trying to be stealthy and chased after her. Each motion was like her last, Buffy’s heart catching in her throat as oh so slowly her pace faltered. Already her lungs were beginning to burn, her eyes being stung by blind fear and the tears which streamed down.

Keep running.

Suddenly her feet lurched, one of the heels snapping under the constant strain. Her arms swung uselessly in the air as she crashed to a heap on the pavement, on her knees and face. Her hands were bent on either side and vainly she tried to struggle back up, tottering on her now ruined shoes. They were scraped to pieces and absolutely useless. Listening in dread, Buffy waited for her follower to grab her or attack knowing that she couldn’t get away.

I wish Spike was here.

Her hair hung in tangled ropes around her face obscuring her sight as she made out a heavy dark form approach her slowly.

It was a man.

“Well what do we have here?” he asked cruelly, wrenching Buffy’s face up with one calloused hand. “Little red riding hood out for a night stroll.” He dropped her head in disgust, thinking that he’d have his fun with her in a back alley and then dump the stupid bitch’s body in a dumpster. It was always what Parker told him to do when finding stupid girls like this. Crouching down beside the blond Lindsay grinned maliciously. One side of the girl’s face already dripped blood as a result of the tumble onto the concrete. She only wore a white tank top and pants, her slight form being all too well noticeable.

He would have fun with this one.

Lindsay stood back up, idly pulling out his gun as he pointed to a back alleyway. “Get up.”

When the girl didn’t move, Lindsay pressed the barrel against her trembling forehead. “I said get up bitch.”

This time she did as requested, hobbling into the darkness with a limp. He kept his gun locked on her at all times, not wanting the girl to get away before he got his rewards. Parker allotted him any girls he wanted when patrolling these streets.

It was fair payment considering any of the Aurelius gang could drive by and shoot him dead.

Lindsay smirked, smacking the thin girl’s head back against the brick wall. He doubted that they’d show tonight and even if they did, he had back up.

Just a few feet across Forest lounged against the wall looking extremely bored. “Just fuck her already” he stated in irritation, tiring of his partner’s idea of foreplay. He didn’t understand why the guy went through the trouble of smashing her up, the girl would be dead in less than five minutes after he finished anyway.

Peeking over Lindsay’s shoulder, Forrest took a good look at the girl and swore. “She’s a fine one Linds.”

“Don’t I know it.” His hand was wrapped around her waist, pawing at her breast roughly. Tears were streaked down Buffy’s face, mixing with the blood which was matted in with her hair.

Both merely grinned.

***

Spike cursed himself for the fifth time as he raced through Sunnydale, eyes darting into every turn off for a glimpse of the tiny blond.

If I don’t get to her soon, the bloody chit could be dead.

He’d already checked the closest suburban areas, thinking that Buffy would have run to her friends after being confronted by him. He’d have been thanking the bloody stars if he had found her holed up in the red head’s house, refusing to talk to him and hurling spiteful glares. It was far better than the knowledge that she had ventured down town.

Pressing the gas petal down as far as it could go, Spike all but raced through traffic, leaving behind him a sea of horns and near accidents. It didn’t matter.
His whole body shook with just the notion of what Parker and his gang could do to her if finding her on one of their random invasions. Normally Angel and the gang would have been down there waiting for them but Angel had scheduled in a meeting. Spike would be on his own should there be trouble.

An alarming thought when he considered the fact that there could be six of the bloody pillocks, all crowded into a tight space. Out in the open, he’d have no trouble fighting them but then he only had to worry about himself normally. Spike didn’t know how he’d fare trying to protect Buffy at the same time.

Realising that he had reached the down town area Spike slowed the Desoto down considerably. All that emerged from the beast of a car was a low rumble, almost unnoticeable in the odd shouts and screams which rang through the area.

Please let Buffy be safe he pleaded silently. I’ll try and smoke less and not throw the butts on the ground anymore.

The buildings on either side of the street were large, towering above him as though reaching into the heavens. Each housed more than its fair share of whores, junkies and abandoned families, some of them relying on the Aurelius gang for money. Often Spike was the one who dealt with them, not having the heart to turn down a mother and her two sniveling kids after she’d been turfed out of her home. Angel had called him weak for it for about a week before Spike redecorated the poofter’s face. After that the gang left Spike alone about it. In time it had paid off anyway. Many of those Spike saw to were loyal to the death to Angel, despite never meeting the wanker and had helped in various dealings when things became complicated. That and the benefit that they would know where Buffy was.

Spike jumped out of his car, running up to the beggar Tom who half the time talked to pictures believing they could respond. Despite that he was a crafty bugger and was completely reliable.

Noticing the bleached blonde after a minute, Tom craned his head up to look at the youth with a grin. It was Spike who had bought the photo album for him to keep his collection in. He tried for a moment to grin, before one of his teeth began to ache and instead settled for a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“You seen a bird about this high go running past recently” asked Spike holding one hand up to his chest.

“Yeah about half an hour ago. Was dressed in some red pants and white top” replied Tom with a leer. “She won’t last long tonight. Parker’s boys are roaming the street and looking for easy pickings.” He tried to smile again, hoping that Spike would forget the girl and leave. “I’d say there are too many for you to handle.”

Spike shrugged, already walking backwards to his car which sat idling. “We’ll see Tom. Thanks for the news.”

The beggar shuffled sheepishly for a moment, overcome with embarrassment. It wasn’t often the blond praised anybody and the streets would be hearing about it for weeks to come.

“Good luck Spike.”

***

Buffy struggled back a cry of pain as the guy now identified as Lindsay ran his hands once more through her hair. Each nail seemed intent on pulling at her wounds, more numerous now that his other partner had decided to join in. From what she could see, Lindsay was slightly taller than Spike, chocolate brown hair falling in short waves around his face. He could have been called pretty except for the pure grin of pleasure which crossed his features as more blood began to flow.

“Quit playing around and get to the good stuff. You know Parker will want to hear what we found out about that Summers chick.” The deep voice of Lindsay’s partner only made Buffy want to scream more.

They were part of Parker’s gang?

Oh god Spike really was serious… I’m such an idiot. Buffy tried to block out the wave of nausea that filled her throat as Lindsay shoved his hand up her shirt. He had long since tied her hands when realising that she would not stop thrashing and trying to hit him even after several backhands.

At least he doesn’t know who I am.

She bit her lip as her attacker’s face came close to her ear, the stench of blood and what smelled like drugs too much for her.

“I’m going to enjoy fucking you I think” he said roughly, twisting her flesh in his hand until he heard a whimper. “You really are quite a spitfire and I enjoy that in women.” Lindsay smiled, running his mouth along her neck. “I promise to make it painful.”

Buffy turned her head away, expecting it to be wrenched back and slapped again. Instead she heard a shot and turning to the alley entrance saw a figure in black.

Spike.

Her face lit up into a beautiful smile, unable to contain the relief she felt at seeing that bright flash of peroxide hair or the cobalt eyes which right now glinted savagely.

He looked murderous.

Forrest was the first to turn and seeing Spike there, reached for his gun. The man barely had it out of its holster before the blond shot him through the head.

“Get away from the girl.”

Lindsay looked up from his victim, knowing that he was as good as dead. The gun he had in his pocket was in clear sight of Spike and useless in defence. Spike was far faster with a weapon and already had it trained on him. He slowly backed away from Buffy, hands held high as he turned to face Parker’s nemesis.

“What can I do for you William? Hoping to get a little bit of leftover after I’m done? I know Parker is searching for your slut currently.”

Spike shrugged though inwardly he was reeling. They are already searching for Buffy. Bloody buggering hell. I should have taken her with me to the house sooner.

Not taking his eyes off Lindsay, Spike called out to his girl, worried over her silence. “You alright luv?”

Buffy sighed, her tears suppressed now that he’d arrived. “I’m okay.”

Her soft reply brought a momentary smile to his lips. Always a tough little bird.

If he’d been only a few mintutes late, things could have ended very differently. As it was he was fighting the strong urge to shoot the bastard where he stood, but then he had to think about Buffy. She’d never trust him if he killed the pillock in front of her. Sure Forest had been blown away but he’d reached for his gun. Sighing at his concern for her emotions which really should be nowhere as strong if Spike was more hardened, he gestured to Buffy.

“Come here pet.”

Slowly she wobbled her way over, halting a couple of times when dizziness threatened. Spike’s face contorted into pure rage as he took in her form. The tank top which had originally been white was smeared with dirt and blood, several of them being male handprints. It was ripped half apart as were the opening to her leather pants which were torn beyond repair.

He’d be buggered if he didn’t kill the bastard for this.

“There’s a knife in my pocket Goldilocks” he said gently. “Reach in and I’ll get rid of that bloody knot.”

Buffy nodded, wobbling closer as she leaned into him sideways. it was difficult but she managed to reach the full way into the duster pocket pulling out a small flick knife. She waited for a moment before looking at her would be rapist with confused eyes.

“What are you going to do with him?”

Spike shrugged, not knowing whether to shoot him dead and leave the body for Parker to find. He could easily send her out of the alleyway but then again she’d still know what had occurred. “What do you think I should do pet? It’s not me he violated.”

Her frame shook as she gazed at Lindsay who stood only a few feet away. Forrest’s body lay close by.

“Leave him here. And…” she paused, not wanting to kill him but wanting some retribution. “let the people of the street decide what they want to do. I’m sure they’ll think of something.”

Spike smirked at her, glad that she hadn’t begged for Lindsay to be released. He would have had to ignore her wishes and shoot him. Even now it was difficult to not pull the trigger.

“Right then” he drawled, stalking towards the now fearful man who stood shaking. “Let’s see what we can do with you.” Spike quickly pocketed the tosser’s gun before shoving his face hard against the brick wall, leaning one elbow into the back of his head. He ground down hard for a minute or so until he felt Buffy nudge him, gesturing at his hands.

“Just tie him up Spike.”

The blond hung his head, pulling out duct tape and wrapping it around the arms and hands of their captive. Once satisfied Spike moved down into the legs, wrapping them tight so that Lindsay could only stand or fall down like a log. He gave the man a shove, laughing for a moment until he caught sight of his girl. The blood in her hair stained it a dark red in the muted glare of streetlights.
I need to get her cleaned up.

Taking her up into his arms, Spike cut her bonds before allowing her to rest against him. He didn’t bother casting a glance back, quite happy to let the wanker rot, that was until Tom got to him.

Should of put a bloody gag on the wanker thought Spike offhandedly.

***

He only made it to the car before Buffy fell asleep in his arms, emotionally worn out by all that had happened. Spike had to balance her carefully as he seated himself in the Desoto, glad that the car was so large. Cradling her head, Spike laid it gently in his lap, the rest of her body curling up like a small child.

He drove to Angel’s house slowly, knocking on the door in an odd act of politeness given the late hour. Normally he barged right in with barely a care for who happened to be asleep.

His leader opened it a minute later, gelled locks sticking haphazardly everywhere as Darla stood behind him. They both held guns which were lowered when they saw who is was.

“I thought you said you were bringing her tomorrow.”

Spike grinned, stepping into the foyer slowly so as not to jostle the sleeping girl. “Technically Peaches it is the beginning of tomorrow and besides I needed to crash here a little earlier than planned.”

Angel peered at Buffy, just then noticing the dried blood which caked her shirt and hair. “What the fuck happened?”

“Summers decided to run and Parker’s boys found her.” Spike’s voice remained quiet though he felt like screaming. If he had just stopped her from running none of this would have ever happened.

“Jesus Will… Did they know it was her?”

Spike’s bitter smile was the first that he allowed to escape. “No. But the sods have been looking for her Angel. You were right.”

A small moan escaped the girl in his arms, prompting the men to end the conversation.

Angel pointed after Darla who was slowly making her way up the stairs. “I’ll talk to both of you about it in the morning okay Will? Your room is clean for once so don’t worry about trying to fix it up.” Angel patted his shoulder gruffly before hurrying after Darla. He wouldn’t be getting much sleep after tonight’s events.

Spike watched the two climb the stairs before following quietly after. The staircase was wide and covered in thick carpet, masking his footsteps as he took two steps at a time. Reaching the top, he turned to the left, knocking open the second room’s door open.

Not sparing a glance at his surroundings, Spike swiftly deposited Buffy into the left side of the bed, undressing her into her underwear in gentle movements. He’d tend to her wounds properly in the morning, for now just checking to see that none still ebbed blood. Satisfied after several minutes of inspection, Spike stripped off his shirt and clambered into the bed, drawing Buffy into his arms instantly. Her body seemed to mould with his, Buffy murmuring his name in her sleep as Spike closed his eyes.

Any discussions between them could wait till morning. Opening his eyes one last time, Spike peered at the tiny girl who was fast rearranging his life to circle her. He didn’t know what he would have done if they had finished their attempt. Just the thought of Lindsay and Forest molesting her made him see red. Spike brushed a kiss across her cheek, his hand interlocking with hers.

“Night princess.”

Buffy awoke to the feeling of absolute comfort, two muscular arms cradling her in a warm embrace. She could feel the soft rise and fall of a chest behind her, coupled with the whisper of breath which rhythmically flew onto the back of her neck.

She yawned twice before peering behind her. Spike’s tousled bleached hair had broken free of its restraints and now hung like a crown, jutting off in various directions. None of the anger or violence which had darkened his features last night still remained. He was like a child.

Buffy gently untangled herself turning to face him completely as he snored softly. His chest seemed to be cut out of stone, each muscle clearly defined from the soft light which filtered in from a window. His skin was a pale alabaster, lack of a tan making him almost appear like a vampire. Even still, Buffy was drawn to his chest, one hand pushing him onto his back with a slow steady pressure.

Spike continued to snore, oblivious to anything in the room except for Buffy. One hand fidgeted for a moment, before blindly grasping for her body, only stopping when reaching her wrist. Content once more, his entire body settled into a rumbling hum, more like a purr then the awful sound her father had made. When Buffy had been little she could remember it echoing all the way down the hall to her room, keeping her wide awake far past her bedtime. They had eventually forced Hank to have an operation in order to get over the hack saw sound.

Keeping her hand on his sternum, Buffy leant over the Brit, noticing the peaceful expression his face took when asleep. Both eyes were closed, the long lashes framing his cheeks like a young boy. His lips jutted out in a childish pout and Buffy gave into temptation, brushing her mouth against them. She had been slightly shocked when first waking up in her underwear but then realised that Spike must have taken her to a safe house, where ever that was. She was both pleased and annoyed that Spike had not completely undressed himself, the man only taking off his shirt but not the tight black jeans which graced his narrow hips. They were clearly outlined in the bed, Buffy feeling slightly curious about the man who had so readily claimed her as his. She took her hand off of his chest, smiling at it dreamily before pulling the sheet down one inch at a time. Her entire body moved with its descent and she found herself quickly staring at Spike’s belt buckle and zipper. They barely seemed to cover him and Buffy wondered why he was so intent on wearing the tight pants. They looked almost painful with a noticeable bulge straining against the teeth. She reached one hand forward to rest lightly on his abdomen when she heard the groan.

He was awake.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Spike regarded the girl before him with amusement. He’d been awake for over a minute now and had been itching to just take her in his arms and kiss her. He’d done well so far in terms of self restraint until he felt Buffy make her way down his body. There was no way he would be able to control himself if she went near that area.

Smiling tenderly at her, Spike sat up with another groan. It physically hurt to be awake this early. “Hello cutie. Let me see your face.”

He reached out a hand towards her, feeling a wave of warmth course through him when Buffy leaned into his touch.

She was only dressed in a black bra and panties, the ensemble making Spike sweat in an attempt to rein in his hormones. Everything was screaming for him to make good on his claim and take her but he shouldered it back down. He wouldn’t put himself out on the line emotionally for women who wouldn’t return his emotions.

His fingers stroked her face for a few minutes before Spike decided that they needed to make an appearance down stairs. There was no way that Buffy would enjoy the poofter entering the sodding room and talking to them as they dressed. Wanker would probably enjoy it.

Buffy hopped off the bed, looking around on the floor before realising that she had nothing to wear. Lindsay had ripped her clothes to shreds in his attempt to rape her and left her in rags when Spike intervened.

“What should I wear?” she asked quietly, unsure of how to act around Spike in such a domestic setting. She had never spent the night in the arms of a boy much less a man such as Spike and was nervous of his place. What if he hated her now?

The chuckle and glimmer of mirth in Spike’s eyes staved off her fears.

“Look in that dresser over there pet. You’ll find some girly clothing that hopefully will suit you for now.” He strode over to the closet, revealing a rack full of mostly black clothing.

Buffy wasn’t surprised.

Not noticing her close inspection of his back, Spike pulled a navy shirt out of a messy pile, pulling it on in sure quick movements. Each muscle in his back flexed in slow motion causing Buffy to gulp.

He was more than she could ever have imagined.

She averted her face when she heard the audible pop of his top button and then zipper. Her relationships with the opposite sex had never gone far past second base and she was mildly curious about what he looked like.

You barely know him she admonished mentally. Buffy was embarrassed by her body’s reaction to him, which even now wanted to jump Spike and see what happened.

As though splitting in half, her mind decided to argue with her. He did kill a guy for you though and would have shot that Lindsay guy if you said. Spike already has proved that he cares for you.

Buffy sighed. She couldn’t believe that she was having this conversation.

Yeah, care being the important word. Spike has never said that he loves me or anything close to a commitment. Just a cave man grunt and proclamation that I’m his.

As if you don’t like it. Spike being possessive is what drew you to him in the first place. You always wondered what it would be like to have a guy care that much about you. Well now you do, so don’t screw it up!

Buffy shook her head. Just what she needed: advice from her subconscious. Maybe the stress was getting to her.

Pulling open the drawer with an audible screech Buffy dug into its contents. She had the awful feeling that some of them belonged to Angel’s many girlfriends, skipping the underwear with a look of distaste. Near the bottom of the heavy oak drawer she found a serviceable top with the words “Bite me” emblazoned across. It took only a few more minutes to find a skirt, the piece of fabric hiding what she hoped was most of her ass. If Cordelia ever finds out about this, I won’t have to kill Angel. She’ll strangle him with those girl’s underwear.

She swiftly dressed before sitting down on the bed. The blinds had been fully opened and sun streamed into the room. I wonder whether Joyce is worried she thought guiltily. I hope she hasn’t gone looking for me. Buffy peered down at her hands, the palms slightly bruised from bracing her fall. If she was completely honest about her mother, she knew that not only would the woman not be searching for her but would not even notice she was gone for another 36 hours. Joyce wasn’t all that concerned over anyone’s whereabouts except for Jim Bean’s.

She looked up to see Spike standing in front of her, a bowl of water and washcloth held carefully in his hands.

“I need to clean up those wounds before they get infected Buffy” he said gently, kneeling in front of her as he set a first aid kit down also. “We don’t want them getting infected.” He chuckled quietly for a moment in an attempt to relieve the mood, self conscious as Buffy stared at him. It hurt to look at her and know that it was his fault. That and the fact that those pillocks had gotten no where close to what they deserved.

His jaw ticked for a moment before reaching for her hands, bathing each one in the antiseptic solution and then bandaging them carefully. He paused for a moment, before setting the equipment on the bed, reaching for Buffy with one hand. “You’ll have to sit a little closer luv, if you want me to properly clean that nasty scrape. The tiny blond had sat quietly the whole time, gazing at him with something Spike swore could be affection. Then again he had thought that with Dru also and look where it got him.

Surprising him Buffy not only moved closer but sat in his lap, leaning into his chest with trust. Hazel green eyes connected with his before tears welled up, flowing down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry Spike.” Her voice broke for a moment before she clutched at his chest, needing him to comfort her. She hadn’t been held by anyone before him for several years.

“It’s alright pet… you didn’t know that his thugs were out there and I came in time didn’t I?” He cupped her chin, hating the sight of tear tracks on her face. Never bloody could stand a woman crying.

“But that’s not the point” she protested. “If I had just listened to you then-“

“Then you would have eventually run away regardless.” Spike smiled at her, brushing a thumb with chipped black nail polish underneath one eye. “Don’t ever be sorry for doing what feels right Buffy. At the end of the day all you have is your blood and the feeling in your gut. I wish you would’ve listened to me but perhaps now you’ll take more notice and realise that Parker is indeed a threat.”

She nodded, loving the pure reassurance he gave when one arm curled around her frame. “They’re looking for me you know.”

“Yeah” he replied gruffly. He didn’t want to spook her after last night’s events but didn’t know how to hide the truth successfully. “Parker must be getting sick of his bloody men and decided to come after a decent looking bird.”

He curled his tongue behind his teeth as Buffy shoved him playfully.

“Spike!”

“What? You were thinking the same thing.”

Buffy jutted out her bottom lip, knowing that a pout never failed to succeed. “You really think I’m only decent looking?” she asked coyly.


Spike stared at the protruding flesh like a man starved. “You know you’re bleeding gorgeous Summers” he whispered.

She smirked at him, wanting to rid them of any painful discussions about last night’s events. “I know I am, but you never say it… What am I supposed to think if you never tell me?” She erupted into a giggle as Spike’s self restraint broke, the Brit crashing his lips down on hers.

Pure heaven.

***

The silent figure which had watched captain peroxide and Buffy kiss crept slowly into the alleyway, scanning each direction. It would be incredibly difficult to answer any questions if any of the Aurelius gang caught him here. Lindsay, looking even worse than the night before when Spike had rubbed his face into the concrete, barely glanced in his direction.

“Come to finish me off then?” His tone was jovial even when staring what was almost certain death. So Spike had sent someone to do the job later after all. He braced himself for the impact before gasping in shock as the hooded man picked him up from the ground.

“Who are you?” he asked in amazement.

The man grinned for a moment, happy at this opportunity to finally meet with Parker. Cutting the duct tape which bound Lindsay he grasped the other man’s hand in greeting.

”I’m your boss’ ticket to Buffy Summers.

Angel had been waiting in the living room for several minutes before he decided that enough was enough. If they weren’t awake by now then they were either dead or slept like logs. Neither of which was a very pleasing option to him.

Darla’s clothes were strewn across the grey carpet, the tall blond running about in a different outfit every 10 minutes. Sometimes he thought she was worse than him except for taking up the bathroom. Hair gel was after all hard to apply if you wanted to look decent.

Giving himself a glance over, Angel made his way up the stairs with trepidation. As much as he cared for the Brit he had no interest in seeing Spike in the nude, or with Summers in a compromising position. He still had his pride.

Part of him still desired Buffy, truly believing that she would be a fine mistress and female figurehead for the gang, however judging from Spike’s possessive attitude that was no longer a possibility. The way the bleached blond had carried her in spoke of more than a dose of affection.

The boy’s head over heels in love with her.

Grimacing at the notion of Spike and public affection Angel hoped that this one wouldn’t end in disaster. Drusilla had ripped the Brit apart, making him something to be truly feared. After her desertion was when Will finally earned his moniker ‘Spike’.

Angel himself had been shocked at first by Will’s appearance in the block over from him. No one had known anything about the guy except that he hailed from England and some town called Bath. It had been Angel who had finally gone over to check him out, an older man with librarian style glasses answering the door in an upper class English accent. Angel had laughed at the whole episode, waving goodbye to Ripper and heading back home to his gang.

It wasn’t until Will turned up at the Bronze that they took any notice. Clothed in black with a grimace permanently set on his features, the bleached blond fitted the term ‘bad ass’ perfectly however Angel wasn’t positive that he would fit in such a gang.

All of his boys were hulking monsters of strength, the least not being Finn whose corn fed frame held power instead of brains. Angel hadn’t liked Spike from the moment he laid eyes on him.

In hindsight neither had Finn. The poster boy for hicks had cracked his knuckles, asking Angel whether they “could bust the peroxide’s head into a different shade of red.”

Angel had ignored him and kept watching. The guy had nerve, entering a place that had been claimed by him and his gang. If he didn’t know better, Angel would have thought he was being challenged. When asking Spike about it later, the Brit had smirked and said “I just wanted you to know that I was around peaches. If you hadn’t got your knickers in a twist, I would have been a lot more accommodating.”

Back then, he’d taken the Brit at first glance. He was just some try hard punk, and therefore nothing to be concerned about. Angel could remember turning his back and pulling Darla flush against him, they had started dating at that stage and his eyes did not wander often. Maybe if they had, he would have stopped Drusilla from leaving the group and staring at “the dark stranger.”


She was one of Darla’s friends and had ebony hair which trailed down to her waist. An odd girl, Dru was a year younger than Angel and far too idealist to be involved in any of his dealings. She had been transfixed by Spike’s brooding form and traipsed her way over to the bar where Will sat. The gang had stared in astonishment for several minutes whilst she literally caused a smile to bloom over his face. That was before, the guy cast a look back at in Angel’s direction.

The brunette, only sixteen but newly loyal to Masters, glowered in response. He didn’t like this ‘William’ one bit.

It took the two men several months before they could look at each other with something other than contempt and even then it still ended in numerous fist fights. Angel had brooded for an entire week when Darla informed him that William was allowed to come and go from the house. Nearly everyone else came as they pleased but Spike had never been offered the customary key that all members received. Angel didn’t see a point without him sealing a blood pact. But Darla warming up to Spike was the first of many small signs that for all his “bloody hells” and swagger the bleached blond was intelligent and resourceful. Not only that but likeable. Darla was the coldest woman Angel had ever attempted to thaw, and if Spike could melt her frosted heart then he deserved an award. It took the others another month before Will’s constant snark and energy took on a more affectionate tone rather than irritant which Angel still found occurred for him. Angel made it his prerogative to never like his men too closely. Spike had only came later as a nickname for the Brit, with his men calling him ‘rabbit’ for months before everything went to hell. All Will ever seemed to do was race from one task to the next. Only Dru held his complete attention.

It had stayed in that uneasy state for close to two years with Angel hating Spike, and the Brit more than retaliating. The constant interaction with Dru forced Will to be around Angel’s home and it soon progressed to where he was an ally, not with the gang but smoking contentedly on the fringes.

Parker had ruined it for all of them.

Similar to Angel, Abrams had detested Spike, but whilst Angel grew to accept his bravado and acknowledge his skill, Parker couldn’t. At first, the man had been amicable with them staying off Sunnydale turf and setting up his own gang in another area. He mainly dealt in things that Angel thought were better left alone such as the prostitution rings and drug cartel. Masters had given his approval of this development and Angel had strived to keep the peace.

A futile endeavour after Dru was caught sneaking around with the bastard.

It had taken days before Spike returned back to the house and even then he had only been able to crawl, too hung over to do more than slur a response. Dru had departed from the house in a whirlwind of abuse the night before, setting up camp with Parker and his inbred group of idiots.

Things only went from bad to worse then.

Raising his hand to knock on the door which had numerous dents from the times Spike had kicked it in, Angel looked heavenward.

Please don’t let them be doing something X rated in my house. If you love me God you’ll give me that at least.

His fist rapped on the door in what he hoped was a polite manner. The door was opened a minute later by Buffy, her face cleaned of the dirt but sporting a nasty bruise and graze.

“Sorry for taking so long Angel” she said quietly, not looking over her shoulder. “Spike seems to think that black is the only colour in existence and wouldn’t listen to one thing I said.” Her pout sprang forth unbidden and Angel had to bite down the urge to groan. Even after spending the night with his second in command she was still appealing.

It was then that Spike appeared, a grin of delight shining on his face when he took in Angel’s state of dress.

“Did we keep you waiting Peaches?”

Angel rolled his eyes, not bothering to give him a response and walked back down to Darla. He’d learned not to trade barbs, particularly when they continued for days.

“Whenever you’re ready, breakfast will be served.” He called back over his shoulder. “I would hurry if you don’t want farm boy to eat all the pancakes.”

Spike grimaced, pushing Buffy out of the doorway as his stomach growled. Noticing her frown, he gave her a quick kiss, grabbing her hand as they speed walked downstairs.

I’ll be buggered if Captain Cardboard gets all the grub.

***

The living room was a huge area, Buffy not having seen one even close to its size since her childhood. Lounges leaned against each wall, a plasma screen on one side about seven feet wide. The carpet was a grey colour though Buffy could notice more than a few beer stains and what she would never acknowledge as blood.

Watching Spike as he heaped a pile of pancakes onto his plate, maple syrup soaking through like oil, she smiled. He was carefree, treating the gang like a family, bickering breaking out routinely. They all sat or leaned against the red leather couches, most of them wearing black which covered the seats. Buffy was sitting in an armchair, its plush leather almost swallowing her whole. The kitchen was in an adjoining room, linked by two sliding doors which at this time were pushed back. She didn’t recognise all the people in the room, men far outweighing women in terms of numbers. Surprisingly the girls that she did recognise actually smiled and waved back at her. An odd occurrence since nearly all of her grade ignored her since becoming friends with ‘geeks’ such as Willow.

But then again this wasn’t high school.

A lot of the men in the room looked far older than Spike or Angel, Buffy guessing as far as 25. However they still looked to Angel for leadership and as Spike made his way to her, nodded to the bleached blond respectively.

It was perplexing.

Buffy didn’t question it though as Spike settled down in the arm chair, placing her in his lap with the plate balancing on her knees. Ignoring the stares which were now focused on them, Spike gave her a knife and fork, whispering in her ear lightheartedly “eat up pet before they steal it from you.” He dug into one pancake from behind, grinning from ear to ear as the taste assaulted him.

Almost as good as a flowering onion.

The stares continued for several minutes before Angel entered the room. He didn’t even need to say anything, the room instantly falling silent.

Though Angel would only be graduating at the same time as her, he made an imposing figure. His frame was large and muscular, tight jeans and shirt appearing to encase him. A holster for his gun balanced on his hip whilst hands large as a tarantula hung by his sides.

Buffy could suddenly understand where the appeal came from. The 18 years of age seemed to matter little with brown eyes far older gazing around at his gang. He well and truly had everyone’s attention.

Spike was the one who broke the silence, cheekily grinning at his leader even as Buffy sat closer.

“Get on with it you git. My pancakes are getting soggy.”

For the first time since Buffy had seen him, Angel truly smiled, its goofy appearance making her realise that there was a reason behind the glowering. No one would ever be frightened of you after seeing that smile.

“I never knew you liked my mouth so much Spike. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Spike not taken back, curled his tongue between his teeth, “always knew you were a poofter Angel.”

Raucous laughter echoed throughout the room before Angel moved to sit down. His chair sat in one corner, Darla balancing on one arm whilst another fair haired girl sat on the other.

Angel was never short for company.

Taking another glance around Angel noted who was in the room, marking Finn as oddly present. Weird, he’s normally always here for breakfast.

“I have received news from Masters recently and he wants us to take over the imports. Parker appears to be taking more than his fair share. Now we all know how Abrams is so I expect there to be some trouble when dealing with his suppliers. Because of this, Wes and Fred will be dealing with them as far as pleasant negotiations go.” A small mousy looking brunette nodded her head in obedience, ignoring the looks which passed between a spectacled brunette and a muscular black man. The room hung with tension for a moment in which Angel waited. If there was a fight it should be within home quarters. Anywhere else and the gang would appear weak. “Now that that’s settled, the strip clubs are doing well and Bronze is turning out more cash than ever before. I’m bringing this up because it will eat at our competition. We all know the risks of doing this but I’m warning you to travel securely and for women with a partner.” Angel looked at the two women on either side, not sparing them from his authority. “That means Cordelia as well Darla, as much as you don’t like her.”

Angel scanned the room again, catching azure eyes which were wide as though he forgotten something. The brunette felt like smacking his head as he realised why everyone’s attention was wavering.

I’m sure that everyone has noticed the newbie in our midst and maybe an introduction is needed.” He waved his hand at the bleached blond not wanting to declare it whilst he still desired the girl. “I’ll let Spike do the introduction.” Looking at Spike, he nodded slightly.

Suddenly Buffy was being pushed up, arms wrapping around herself as at least 30 different people stared at her. She felt Spike stand behind her, both leather clad arms wrapping around her frame possessively.

“This is Buffy Summers” he declared, biting back a growl as a number of the men peered closer. “Parker wants her and has already started hunting downtown. That being said, she’s mine and anyone who so much as lays a hand on her or upsets her will get their sodding head ripped off.” Leaning down to her ear, he squeezed her hand. “Say hello pet.”

Buffy’s face burned a red until she decided that composure was needed. Boldly taking a step away from Spike’s arms she met a few of the more open stares with her own. “Hello.”

Angel stood up himself, winking at her in encouragement as Spike once more wrapped her in his arms. “Buffy is officially part of the gang and if anyone has any disagreements they better state them now.”

He paused a moment however dead silence remained.

“Now that’s settled, breakfast will continue.”

“Umm boss?” A tentative hand had risen in the air as though the gang was still in a class room.

Angel heaved a sigh. “What is it Jonathon?”

“Isn’t she gonna take the blood oath?” Seeing the glares which were directed on him, Jonathon shrunk back into his seat. “I mean I had to and I could barely type for a month cause of the pain and-“

“Enough.” Angel turned to look at Spike who’s eyes were darkened. “It is custom Will.”

Ignoring his leader Spike nudged Buffy. If she refused the gang had every right to revoke their invitation. That would leave Buffy as a liability and under significant risk from other members in the house. She would still know too much to be let go but could not be involved in any operation.

Buffy turned to face him, her eyes wide with alarm. No one had said anything about blood oaths to her. “I’ll do it Spike.” Her voice was quiet, well aware of the attention which focused on them.

“Right then” he drawled, setting her feet firmly on the ground. Turning to Angel he gestured to the weapons room. “Go get your bleeding knife and do it already Peaches. We’ll be late for school otherwise.”

Again Jonathon interrupted. “What about the sacred blade… wouldn’t that be more appropriate?”

Spike faced the computer geek which they kept specifically for the purpose of hiding paper trails. “I’d shut my bloody mouth if I was you whelp.”

Gulping Jonathon prayed for the seat to swallow him whole, sharp nudges indicating that several members would be speaking to him later. Just my luck. More broken fingers right before the online conference for Star Trek.

Walking back into the room, Angel drew forth a wicked looking blade. One side was jagged, the hilt wrapped in brown leather strips.

Buffy stared at it, images of her godfather rising up instantly. She had a small scar across her left palm from where he had sliced the skin, drawing the blood and mixing it in with his own. Her father had watched the entire thing, saying to her that it bonded them beyond the normal legal terms. “You never cross anyone when there’s blood involved Elizabeth. It’s like carving at yourself.”

She held out the same hand this time, waiting for the sting which would be small compared to the blows she had received last night. Buffy jumped in surprise when Angel instead pulled her closer to him. Shaking his head, Angel moved the blade closer to her collar bone. “It has to be right in between the apex” he said in explanation. “About an inch and a half below your neck but no deeper than a 1/3rd.” He drew open his own shirt, a thin white scar trailing right below his collarbone. It looked like it had been cut with a fingernail, the edges jagged.

Spike grasped her hand, not caring what the others thought as Angel held her shoulder in a firm grip. His back had been held against a brick wall when Angel had drawn the same blade across it. Every single person in the room had it, some even going so far as to tattoo around the scar. It was a far safer initiation for girls then what happened at Parker's. The git was renowned for bringing eager women to their safe house and then sharing them with his pack of goons. He said that it was the best way to form a family connection, besides the fact that all the girls were far too scared to leave. He shuddered at the thought of Parker ever getting his mitts on Buffy.

One of these days he was going to blow the tosser away.

He gripped Buffy’s hands tighter when he heard a gasp escape from her small frame. Angel was holding her close to him, trying to exert just enough pressure to draw blood without causing any damage. Something which Spike was grateful for. After waking in the hospital he had wanted to get the sodding initiation over with as soon as possible. He’d practically forced Angel to carve at his skin, relishing the pain after soaking himself in the numbness of Dru’s decision.

Buffy’s eyes were surprisingly calm, her hand coming up to wipe at the small trickle of blood which dribbled down her chest. Angel had barely cut her at all. Doesn’t matter though thought Spike with satisfaction. As long as there’s blood none of these gits can complain… sodding Jonathon whining about his bloody hand. If the pillock hadn’t of been so scared of being cut on the chest we would never have sliced the hand open in the first place.

Spike directed a dark glare over at the small teenager. I’ll have a chat with you later mate.

Applause and cheering broke out snapping Spike out of his thoughts.

They were satisfied.

Angel held up the blade to show the red stain before pocketing it in his pants. Pulling Buffy’s hand into his own, Angel placed her before him with pride. “I am pleased to give you Buffy Summers, Spike’s girl and a blood member of the Aurelius gang.”

Buffy barely registered that arms which lifted her high, Spike’s voice ringing in her ears. “You have a family now Buffy.”

Walking into school, Buffy never felt so removed from it. Probably because I’m entering the halls with Spike. The lean Brit had his fingers linked with hers and exuded strength from every pore. Scott wouldn’t dare say anything to her now.

Lifting her face from the tiled hallway which she commonly stared at when moving through the crowd, Buffy could see that everyone else was just as shocked. Due to her friendship with Willow and acceptance of Amy who everyone knew was a slut, Buffy had never had a high social standing.

That was until now.

Suddenly people were waving at her, even commenting on her hair and her lovely makeup which rather doggedly hid her bruise. Their smiles were fake and incredibly wide, making her just want to find Willow and bury herself in her locker. Glancing at Spike she could tell that he didn’t like either, his jaw ticking in irritation.

Stepping in front of her, he made to shove his way through just wanting to smash someone against the lockers. He could tell that all the attention made Buffy nervous and wasn’t surprised. Before he had gotten involved her, she had always been humble not bothering to fall for gossiping games or making herself a fool in front of Angel. Buffy was completely honest and with her Spike felt he could be truthful about some of his less noble actions. She may judge for him but she would never lie or cheat on him. He reached his hand behind his back, smiling when she grasped hold. Buffy was perfect.

He could see her friend, Willow, standing by their lockers in shock and decided against heading over there and introducing himself. It was bad enough that Parker was interested in Buffy; he certainly didn’t want the pillock following around Red.

Pulling her close to him, Spike bent down, ignoring the attempts to hear their conversation. “You better go say hello to your gal pal luv.” He whispered. “She looks rather shocked.” Brushing a thumb over her bottom lip, Spike resisted the urge to kiss her knowing her face would light up like a cherry. “If you need anything at all then just signal pet. I’ll be right bloody over.”

Nodding Buffy, took the chance of escape and was darting her way through the crowd over to Willow. Shocked was an understatement. For a full ten minutes all the thin red head could do was gasp and point at her and then at Spike. It took another five before she could manage a full sentence. Quirking her eyebrows and twisting her small hands in a bright orange jumper Willow stared at Buffy. “How on earth did you end up walking in here with Spike Giles? Willow glanced at her face for a moment before shrieking in horror. An entire side of Buffy’s cheek was scraped and bruised. “Your face… Oh Buffy what is going on?”

“Just breathe for a second Will and I’ll tell you” said Buffy gently. She knew that this was going to be a surprise for her best friend but she was certain that if the lockers weren’t there Willow would have fallen over. Even now she looked close to passing out from amazement. “I saw Spike yesterday afternoon and we came to an understanding.”

Willow’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as she placed her hands on her hips. Willow was entering her protective mother mode. “If your trying to tell me that you’ve entered a similar arrangement to what Cordelia has with Angel then Buffy I swear I’ll punch him on the nose.”

Buffy laughed at the image. Spike would be more surprised then anything if the geeky looking red head smacked him in the face. After last night, she was more than sure that Spike could handle himself in any situation.

Willow continued to glare at her. “I don’t see how this is funny.”

Buffy breathed deeply, trying to control her laughing. “Oh Wills” she gasped in between chuckles. “You don’t understand. I and Spike… well we are…”

“A couple?” asked Willow excitedly. “Buffy that’s wonderful!” She enveloped the smaller girl in a hug, her baggy orange jumper covering them both. “And there won’t be any other girls?”

Buffy shook her head. “He claimed me as his to the entire gang this morning… they initiated me and everything.” Her fingers unconsciously traced the thin cut which sat just under her collarbones.

“Is that a good thing?” asked Willow suspiciously. She had never been interested in any of the popular groups or their antics specifically because it was dangerous. Cordelia couldn’t go to certain parts of town here or in LA by herself and you would have to be a fool not to notice the guns the Aurelius’ members all carried. She didn’t know whether Buffy was thinking clearly about all this. After all, the fiery little blond had been crushing on Spike ever since she arrived. She narrowed her eyes again at the purple bruise on Buffy’s face which no amount of foundation could hide. “Is that how you got hurt? Do they beat new members Buffy?”

“Oh Gods no Will. This” she said in a whisper “is because of Parker.”

“Parker?!”

Buffy looked down at the floor knowing that her tale could only get worse. “He found out about Angel and Spike liking me and decided that he wants me also.”

Willow nodded waiting for her to continue. It seemed like Buffy had hidden a lot of things from her in the past week.

“And?”

“Well Spike came over to my house yesterday” she held a finger to Willow’s lips as the girl opened it to begin questions. “Later” she promised with a wink. “And I ran away down town after we argued. He was trying to warn me about Abram’s interest.” She paused at the red head’s gasp before continuing. “Some of Parker’s thugs caught me and were about to… rape me… when Spike showed up.” Her eyes were wide as she remembering the terrible events. “He saved me Willow and then took care of me. No one has ever bothered to stick up for me like that ever.”

The girls embraced again and were just about to continue their conversation when the bell rang for class.

Knowing that they were far from finished, Willow pulled out her books slowly. “If you want we can skip English.” She really hoped that Buffy didn’t take the offer but decided that analysing Heaney could wait until later.

As though sensing her turmoil, Buffy grabbed Willow’s hand, dragging her down the corridor. “I appreciate the offer but we both know that you’d die with guilt if I made you wag a period. Besides, we always have lunch.”

She smiled at her best friend. Willow knew about her mother but not the reasons why they originally left LA. If she did, she probably would have understood far better Buffy’s ease upon being accepted.

It reminded her strongly of the comfort she had when a child. Men her father knew often would appear in public places making sure that she was protected no matter where she went. When their guardianship had diminished Buffy had felt abandoned. She hoped that Spike would not grow bored of her.

Pulling blond hair from her eyes, Buffy cast a glance back at Spike. He was all swagger and snark, playing up his Big Bad image. He kept his duster on, catching her gaze before curling his tongue behind his teeth. Instantly a warm glow settled in her stomach, Buffy blushing as Spike’s friends followed his line of sight and found her. Willow kept walking forward, oblivious to the looks which passed between her friend and one of the most feared men along the west coast.

Class would be boring compared to her life right now.

***

The first two classes of school had seemed to drag on endlessly, making lunch appear like a godsend. She entered the cafeteria with Willow, chatting nervously about whatever assignment it was that Mrs. Elms had dreamed up. Knowing her best friend, the paper would be on the teacher’s desk tomorrow, three weeks ahead of due date.

Their table was off to the corner and wobbled on the lefthand side unless a book was propped underneath it. Amy was already sitting there, staring at her reflection in a small hand held mirror; a common sight for anyone who regularly watched her.

Ignoring Buffy for several minutes, Amy launched into a tirade about Riley who seemingly had dumped her the night before. Her eyes flickering with hate, rarely looked across the table to Buffy and the small blond began to feel increasingly awkward. I really didn’t think she hated me this much.

Hoping to stave off any arguments Buffy stared down at her plate which was a cross between lasagna and broth. Another new creation for the lunch ladies.

Suddenly she felt hands on both her shoulders, a deep baritone accompanying them. “Do you want to sit with the gang luv?” He pulled out her chair, smiling at the wide eyed look she gave him. Chit probably thought that I wouldn’t acknowledge her at school, silly bint.

Buffy gasped awkwardly, everyone in the room now staring in their direction. She could feel Amy’s jealous eyes now burning a hole into her back. “I don’t know Spike. I can’t leave Willow and Amy here.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. He didn’t see a reason why Buffy had embraced the brazen girl who even now was shooting her sneers. Finn had been right to dump her. “I don’t think they would mind pet. You’ve got a lunch class in five minutes anyway don’t you Red?”

The thin girl nodded nervously. How does he know my schedule?

Spike chuckled at her confused expression. He made it his business to know everything not only about Buffy but also the people she spent time with. Willow Rosenberg was harmless as a fly and far brainier than her parents gave her credit for. Amy on the other hand was a bird that Spike thought could never be far enough away. She’d already tried to come onto him three times at the Bronze, even when dating Captain Cardboard. The big git had challenged him to fights before Spike finally got it through his thick head that Amy was detestable to him. He didn’t bother to look at her now, instead focusing on his girl. “Come on pet. They need to get used to you.”

Willow appeared to agree with him, gathering up her books and uneaten lunch. It truly was a concoction of horror. “Go on Buffy. I’ll see you later anyway.” She pulled up from her seat giving Spike a hard look which had sent Andrew scurrying for cover last period. “Hurt her and you’ll have a new reason to call yourself Bloody.”

“Warning taken Red.” Spike smiled disarmingly whilst wrapping his arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “I care too much about her to even think of hurting her.” Pursing his lips, Spike fumbled in his pocket for a moment before producing a small key. “Buffy will be moving in with me so if you ever want to drop by use this key. It’s the one for our room.” He handed it over, eyes wanting to roll as Amy all but salivated at the sight of it. She had tried to steal a house key from Cordelia just a month ago. “Look after it Red.”

Willow winked in agreement, pocketing the small key and then walking away, shoulders slightly hunched from the amount of books she carried. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow Buff.”

She didn’t look back as Spike took Buffy’s hand and walked back to his own table. He kept a tight grip, knowing that his girl was incredibly nervous about going anywhere near Cordelia or the other girls such as Harmony. The girl had just that morning declared him a cheat, and Spike was thankful that Buffy had already gone to class. He didn’t know what he would have done if she thought he wouldn’t be faithful.

Squeezing her hand in reassurance, Spike sat down, pulling her into his lap with ease. There, that wasn’t so hard. He could feel her trembling from anxiety or stress and in an attempt to be soothing rubbed her back.

It set Harmony off.

She had just arrived at the table and was jutting her low cut top in his direction. “Blondie bear? Why are you touching the geek?” Harmony’s brows were comically raised and Angel stifled a groan.

Here we go again.

Her tone was petulant and annoying, not that anyone was surprised. Harmony was for most people part of the casualty of being at school. Cordelia rolled her eyes skyward for a moment before responding to the stalker. “We went over this earlier Harmony.” The prom queen ennounciated her words slowly hoping that something would get into her head and stay there. “They. Are. Together. Buffy. Is. A. Member. Of. The. Aurelius’.”

Harmony pouted, knocking aside another guy’s plate with her Gucci handbag. “I don’t see why. Summers was never good enough to be around us before. All pathetic, and academic and-“

“That’s enough Harm” growled Spike in irritation. He had practically felt Buffy shrink under the daft bint’s tirade and was sick of it. No one was going to put her down. Especially not someone as barmy as Harmony. He opened his mouth to give her a piece of his mind but Buffy got there first.

“Willow is a far better person than you’ll ever be Harm . I could like you if you didn’t spend your time sinking your fangs into everybody else in an attempt to feel better. It’s pathetic and so are you. It’s a waste of time to throw yourself at someone who obviously doesn’t want you. And to be honest its gotten old. Very quickly.” Buffy wrapped one arm around Spike, tilting her head until it touched his. “Spike is with me. Spike wants me. And Spike and the gang has claimed me. If you think I shouldn’t be here then maybe you should think about a change of scenery.” Buffy drew attention to the cut which had now healed slightly. “I’ve already got my mark. Where’s yours?”

Harm sat there gasping like a fish. No one had ever told her off before and to be honest she wasn’t handling it very well. Grabbing her designer bag, the blond stormed out of the cafeteria, a small group of copies following in her wake.

Cordelia reached over the table, giving Buffy a warm hug. “That was absolute perfection.”

The other people who sat at the table also grinned in relief. Harmony had been trailing them in hopes of entering the gang for far too long.

Angel voiced what they had all been thinking. “Finally some peace and quiet.” He rubbed at his temples as though massaging away headaches which drew forth laughs from the table.

Spike stroked her back, feeling a wave of pride hit him. Buffy was far stronger than he had ever given her credit for.

***

After lunch everything seemed to run smoothly. There were still odd looks but for the most part Buffy felt confident. It was fairly noticeable to everyone around her and earned glares or pleased smiles with astonishing regularity. It felt good to belong.

She wasn’t so sure however about going home and informing Joyce of events. The woman did not care about her but Buffy knew she wouldn’t want anyone to be involved with her either. Particularly not a man like Spike.

Buffy could already hear the comparisons which Joyce would make between the bleached blond and her father.

Sitting down on the steps just outside the school, Buffy waited for Spike to arrive. He had left school just after lunch to meet someone, giving her hazy details and making Buffy feel anxious. Will he hide his life from me? she wondered sadly. Am I going to be merely a figure head to him? Some kind of trophy to show off to his friends and enemies? Buffy tightened the hold around herself, she would never feel completely happy if that was his agenda, but then again she could have him all wrong. She’d only really been in his company for a day and most of that had been spent sleeping.

Retrieving her bag from the ground, Buffy stood up as Spike drove into the parking lot. The Desoto hummed loudly and she could hear ‘Anarchy in the UK’ blasting from the stereo. She ran over to the black lumbering vehicle, kissing him on the cheek and then buckling her seatbelt. She had seen how he drove.

“Miss me?” she enquired shyly.

Spike reached for her hand, swinging the wheel with his other as they roared out of the parking lot. “Of course pet. Wouldn’t be able to sleep without you after last night.” He checked the speed limit, cursing as he realised that he was over by at least 20 mps. Spike had been desperate to show he was responsible, even if the poofter thinks it makes me all poncy.

He began to sing with Johnny Rotten before noticing Buffy’s confused face.

“Where are we going?”

“To your mums. Thought you’d like to wear something besides clothing from Angel’s harem.”

Buffy looked down at her lap. “Oh.”

Spike watched her in surprise. He knew things weren’t good between Buffy and her mum but this was unexpected. He parked the car outside of the Summers residence, turning off the ignition.

“Is it really that bad?”

Buffy, feeling embarrassed forced a bright smile onto her face. It wouldn’t do to let Spike see how awful she felt about this. “Of course not.” She opened the car door, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

Her steps were decidedly slow as Buffy all but dragged herself to the front door. The sooner you get this over with, the better off you’ll be she thought determinedly. Just get in, get the stuff and get out.

She opened the door, stepping inside quickly. She was in and nothing had happened so far. Her mood brightened and she calmly took a step forward before hearing the drunken laughter of her mother.

Spoke too soon.

Buffy stared at the wood floor as Joyce bumped and lumbered her way over to her errant daughter. “Buffy.”

“Joyce.”

Her mother glared at her hard, waving her hand at the living room. “There’s some men here to see you Elizabeth.” She leaned dramatically, the stench of bourbon coming off in waves. “I suggest you play nice.”

“What are you talking-“

A hand tightened on her shoulder and Buffy felt a familiar feeling of dread rush through her.

The man was tall with floppy brown hair and a boyish expression. He smiled at her in a sinister manner, grabbing her hand in his own in what was a punishing grip. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you Elizabeth” he said. “I’ve been rather desperate to make your acquaintance.”

Buffy felt her heart leap into her throat, if this was who she thought it was then she was screwed. “Who are you?”

The man laughed at that. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen me…” He tisked when Buffy shook her head in the negative. “My name is Parker. Parker Abrams.”

She tried to wrench her hand back but again failed.

She was most definitely screwed.

The man laughed at that. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen me…” He tisked when Buffy shook her head in the negative. “My name is Parker Buffy. Parker Abrams.”

Buffy felt her throat tighten considerably. Parker was here. In her house. Whirling to glare at her mother, she saw the look of pure satisfaction exude from her frame. Joyce had brought them here.

She bit back a groan as Parker’s fingers dug deeper into her shoulder, prattling on about how much he had heard about her and what an amazing coincidence it was that she had just dropped by after they did.

If Buffy wasn’t scared out of her mind she would have rolled her eyes.

The guy was a total sleaze.

She barely felt the couch as Parker forced her down, another arm wrapping around her waist. Buffy couldn’t bite back the whimper when she locked eyes with Lindsay. She could see cuts and cigarette burns all over his face making him no longer anything close to a pretty boy. He held one arm close and peering closer Buffy gasped. Where was his hand?

Parker placed his hand on her thigh drawing Buffy abruptly back to reality. Several shot glasses sat on the coffee table, a Jack Daniels close by. Dropped by just before me my ass thought Buffy with contempt. They’ve probably been here all day just waiting for me to show up.

Joyce sat across from them, a satisfied expression permanently etched on her features. “I believe Elizabeth” she slurred “that Mr. Abrams has a wonderful proposal for you. An excellent one which would leave everyone very happy.” Her hand fumbled for the bottle before seizing it. Liquor soaked the carpet as she tried to pour it into her cup.

Mommy what have you done?

“Mrs. Summers is absolutely right” agreed Parker. “Out of the wealth of my heart I am willing to induct you into the Initiative.”

“Lucky me” spat Buffy.

Parker’s grip on her thigh which had been bearable tightened. “I wouldn’t be so sarcastic about such an offer Buffy . No one would even raise an eyebrow if I simply took you and had my way. Don’t you think this is a better option?” His hand stroked up and down her skin, causing chills to arise. He was revolting.

“I think you need to get out of this house right now. And take Captain Hook with you.” Buffy wrenched herself free from their grasp, ignoring the condescending smirks that they gave her. “I want nothing to do with any of you idiots.”

Parker smiled at his minion. “You did warn me that she was a spitfire didn’t you.”

Lindsay nodded, clutching his arm which had erupted into pain at her struggle. “Just don’t let her get her teeth or legs near you boss. She can cause real damage.”

Abrams looked her up and down, a predatory gleam in his eyes making her want to retch.

She needed to get out of here.

Her eyes flickered to the staircase, calculating her chances of getting up there before they caught her. It was slim but then they had the coffee table in front of them and a drunken Joyce who could topple in their direction if she tipped the chair. Buffy never considered that she could call Spike into the house. Guns would only end up with him possibly dead and her mother caught in the crossfire. Not a welcome result even if she had sold her out. Barely moving a muscle, Buffy slipped off her sandals, preparing to run. She had learned her lesson about high heels and fashionable but yet poorly made boots.

Joyce, considerably drunk, reached out a hand to her daughter. If she could get Buffy to go with her supplier then she wouldn’t have to pay nearly as much. “Buffy you should accept. Think how happy we’d be. You know that I’ve never been truly happy since I was your age. Don’t you think you should listen to me for once?”

Buffy wrenched her hand away. “No” she responded deadly quiet. “You don’t deserve anything if you are bartering me away to some sick fuck who lets his goons rape women walking down the street.” Her hazel eyes narrowed as she wondered how Joyce could benefit. “What’s in it for you?”

The wide imploring eyes and shaking told her all she needed to know. Joyce was hooked on coke.

“YOU’RE HER DRUG DEALER!” she screamed.

Parker shrugged. “What of it?”

Buffy felt something in her snap, the option of running appearing far less grand than throttling the life out of this man who had ruined her life and almost killed her mother numerous times.

Parker scarcely had a moment to relax before Buffy launched herself at him, biting, punching and clawing at every part of his body. He was the representation of her father and every single moment of pain she had felt from his lifestyle. She smashed her fist into his nose, grinning in feral satisfaction at his cry of pain. Buffy was not someone to be sold, not for anything. She kneed him in the groin eliciting another moan of anguish before she could feel drunken hands pull useless on her clothing.

Joyce.

Not taking a moment to think Buffy grabbed the gun from Parker’s jacket. She staggered backwards, aiming the barrel at a bleeding Parker and shocked Lindsay.

Now she was in control. And goddess did it ever feel good.

Buffy glanced at her mother, who seemed to be hyperventilating on the spot, she was so shocked. “Go sit on the couch Joyce.”

“Buffy you wouldn’t. I’m… I’m your mother Elizabeth.” Joyce’s fragile body trembled as she took a small step forward. “You wouldn’t kill your own mother would you?”

Buffy could feel the tears spring in her eyes. She had never thought that everything could become so destructive where she had to aim a gun at her own mom. Her fingers trembled as she turned off the safety lever.

“Just get over there.”

***
Spike stared at the steering wheel, trying to control the urge to burst inside the house after her.

Buffy had been gone for over fifteen minutes.

Maybe I’m just being overprotective he thought disarmingly. It’s not like she doesn’t have enough clothes to pack. Fifteen minutes would only be enough for her to pack all those sodding shoes. He turned up the stereo, vainly trying to ignore the awful sense that something was very wrong. Buffy had looked positively sick when he mentioned going into the house and he was regretting taking her there. Maybe I should have picked up the stuff myself. He cast a final look at the house, noting that there were no other cars in the driveway except for the 4WD that belonged to Joyce. Spike laughed depreciatively at himself as once more he made to get out of the Desoto and go up to her doorstep. You’re nothing but a sodding nancy boy William. Worrying over some chit that won’t ever love you. Drusilla is the closest you’ll ever come to having a bird like you and even then look what happens when you finally tell her… Bloody bint runs to the nearest warm bed and tells you how disgusting and weak you are. Spike sighed staring up at the car roof in misery. Far better to keep mum about any sodding feelings that are there mate. Can only lead to trouble.

Spike sat up, scanning the surrounding houses from practice. If anything was suspicious then he would have an excuse to enter the house. And if it turns out to be nothing you’re just going to look like the wanker you are.

Each driveway appeared the same, with the appropriate cars allotted to each. That was until he reached the third house. Choking Spike leaped out of the car bounding up to the house and kicking the door in. He had seen Parker's van.

Expecting to see Buffy either tied up or being held, Spike was completely unsurprised for the sight that greeted him.

I feel like I’ve entered the sodding twilight zone.

To his left sat his arch nemesis, the git he should of shot dead and Buffy’s mum, all three with apprehensive looks on their face.

“What in the bleeding hell is going on?”

Parker even whilst bleeding from a possibly broken nose glared at Spike with arrogance. “Buffy decided to play rough.” His eyes were filled with loathing and Spike couldn’t help chuckle as Abrams shouldered Lindsay roughly. Angel had told Spike that Tom had taken a particular liking to the man’s hand and sawed the bloody thing off.

“Could you come here and hold this Spike?” Buffy kept her eyes on the hostages, feeling pride swell at the look Spike gave her. “I still have to pack my things.”

Spike stalked over to her, pulling out his own semi automatic as Buffy handed him Parker’s. He could see blood from Parker smeared over her appropriately named ‘Bite me’ top and couldn’t help smirking in satisfaction. Buffy had kicked the git’s overbearing ass and even taken him hostage. His girl was one of a kind.

“Peaches is going to be so jealous.”

Buffy smiled, hugging his frame to her for a moment. She had had no real idea what she would have done with the gun. It had never been in her to kill someone in cold blood. Casting a glance at Parker who watched with outright jealousy, she considered that eventually she could waive that belief. After all, the bastard was willing to grant her special privileges, why shouldn’t she do the same?

“Go get your stuff luv. I’ll be right here waiting with your guests.”

Buffy nodded, running up the stairs into her room. It was painted a soft pink and covered in lace. A little girl’s bedroom in every sense. Sighing, Buffy pulled out a large duffel bag, stuffing clothes inside. She threw open her closet, ripping outfits off their hangers and pushing them inside also. The bag was nearly full when she finished and Buffy immediately pulled out her journals. She never wanted anyone else to read them. She threw it onto one shoulder before she noticed her stuffed pig which had been given to her by her godfather.

Brushing its fur, Buffy held the sentimental toy to her. “How could I ever forget you Mr. Gordo?”

She pushed him into the bag to before stepping down the stairs. Spike was still where she had left him though Parker’s face looked even worse than before. Buffy ignored it, tugging on his duster and grinning at the Brit who was fully in Big Bad persona. “Unless you plan to take them with us, I think we should leave.”

Spike pouted back at her, loving the blush which crept over her face. “You sure pet? There are plenty of ways I could occupy myself if you’ve forgot anything.”

“I’m positive.”

The bleached blond nodded, waiting for her to walk out the front door before he turned his full attention upon the bane of his existence. “Seeing from your ugly mug Parker, I can assume that Buffy taught you a few bloody lessons but if you didn’t get the memo I’ll give you another one.” Spike pulled the trigger shooting the rival gang leader in the foot. “It’ll hurt like a bitch but I’m fairly positive it won’t kill you. As for you” azure eyes fixed Joyce and Lindsay with a deadly stare. “If I catch either of your worthless hides anywhere near Buffy, you’ll be begging me to kill you. And Joyce, get some bleeding help.” Spike made to walk out, waiting for the sighs of relief.

Lindsay was the first.

Spike cocked his gun, shooting the git in the knee cap. That would slow them down for a while.

He smiled to himself at the moans of pain which erupted from the living room.

Music to his ears.

Spike had never felt so contented in his life. He’d finally shot Parker and his girl was safe. The bleached blond sat in the living room, a beer nestled in his hands and only a few birds in the corner disrupting the otherwise silent room. Buffy was upstairs packing her clothes and if he didn’t know better Spike would assume it was happiness he was feeling.

But then that couldn’t be right. Could it?

Taking another sip of the beer, Spike decided that he would not dwell on the constant wealth of emotions which sprung from his chest at the thought of Buffy Summers.

It was far better to ignore the obvious then let himself become love’s bitch. And that’s if you haven’t bloody admitted it already, you stupid git thought Spike bitterly. Buffy does not love you. Never has and never will after you dragged her into this sodding world. He stared at the cream wall, not really seeing it but rather images of Buffy, talking, smiling, sleeping, bloody pointing the gun at the wanker and still making it look attractive. “I’m so buggered.”

It was at that moment that Angel decided to waltz into the room.

“Spike my boy! What took you so long?” He clapped the Brit on the back roughly, falling into the couch with a large thump. “Does the girl have too many clothes?” The brunette chuckled, elated from the phone call he’d just received. Masters had announced the date of the next meeting and would be giving his gang and specifically Angel a reward.

“Parker was at the sodding house.”

Angel’s face which had up till then been beaming like a child high on candy, fell. Once again Abrams was getting involved in their affairs.

“And?”

Spike smiled, taking another sip of the beer. “She kicked his ass.”

Angel was shocked. “Buffy?”

“Yeah” drawled Spike, loving the sight of Angel gasping for air. “She did it right and proper too. By the time I kicked in the bloody door, Parker was looking like a gang had been at him. Scratches and bite marks everywhere.” The azure eyes flared with mirth. “Not to mention that she crushed the jewels.”

Unconsciously Angel groaned. It was difficult to even talk about being hurt in that area. For once he could empathise with Parker, after feeling Buffy kick him, he was certain it would have to hurt. A lot.

“That’s that’s…”

“Absolutely wonderful” interjected Spike, feeling slightly possessive. Angel’s general enquiries and stolen glances had done nothing to convince him that the git didn’t want his girl. “I’ll have to teach her how to throw a punch though.”

“Do you think that’s safe?”

Spike raised an eyebrow at his leader.

Angel forced a frown onto his features. There would be nothing stopping Buffy if she could learn to shoot properly and fighting techniques? Learning from Spike she would be far better protected. I’m going to have to invest in body gear.

“What I’m trying to say Will is that maybe she shouldn’t be trained… I mean you don’t really think she’ll want to be a part of our operations do you?”

“No” replied Spike. There was no point in not being honest. The things he did were illegal and would land him in prison until he was grey if convicted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to keep her captive. She’s been forced into a foreign situation with people that probably scare the living daylights out of her friends and definitely aren’t the types she’d associate with. If I can give her any confidence whatsoever I’ll take it.” Spike stared at the empty bottle, feeling a wave of guilt hit him. “I owe it to her.”

Angel nodded. Things would only get more out of control from here on out. If it was his woman the Summers girl would stay in his bed or be with a member for protection. He was the father figure of the entire gang and his dominance always extended to his women.

After all, Darla loved that in a man.

Both looked up as from the staircase, Buffy ran down and jumping two steps at a time with glee. Her long blond hair flew behind her, making her appear like some long lost maiden from a fairytale. Spike couldn’t help grinning at the picture she made. My golden angel.

Buffy paused at the floor, watching Spike and Angel with trepidation. They had been deep in discussion just moments before and she was almost certain it concerned her. Maybe Spike was telling him about what happened at the house she wondered. The whole time in the car all he could talk about was how well I held the gun and took control. Buffy felt her cheeks redden as she remembered how Spike had reacted when they reached the front of the house. He had leant against the door, hands either side of her head and given her what could only be described as a soul searching kiss. She was looking forward to more later.

Her eyes flickered in distaste as she saw Angel smile at her in what was a poor attempt to be friendly. She was not fooled. For all his attempts to be pleasant and well mannered, there was something secretive and condescending about him. Buffy tried to stifle the urge to walk over and punch him in the nose. She was sure that he deserved it, even if he had done nothing to her since they arrived.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy walked over towards the two men who in one way or another held her new world together. Angel, now her leader and misguided ally and Spike, who she hoped would become a lover. It was a far better combination then the one she left behind in Los Angeles.

“What you doing” she asked, seating herself in Spike’s lap. The blood red of the couches was fairly gross after all the red she had seen painting Parker’s face. Which you put there she reminded herself. You did it.

“Pet?” Spike had taken her hand and was now stroking a thumb across it absently. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Mmm?”

“What do you think about learning to fight and handle a gun?”

Buffy’s hazel eyes widened, wanting to know he was serious before agreeing. Spike wouldn’t humor her would he?

“Do you mean real training which I can use or just showy stuff?”

Spike shot her an angry mood, upset that she would accuse him of babying her. “Of course I mean real training Buffy” he retorted. “What do you take me for? A jailor?”


She wrapped both arms around his unyielding frame. “I’m sorry Spike. I just… no one has ever bothered to teach me how to take care of myself. They normally just take on the responsibility of defending me themselves.”

Spike squeezed her hand, not knowing whether it was acceptable to ask about her past yet. The whole thing was a sodding mystery and all the offhanded comments did no good. I’ll need to ask Masters a thing or two when we go to LA.

“I just want you to feel safer Buffy. I swear on every bone in my body, living or undead that’ll I do my best to look after you until the end of the world but I won’t always be there. Besides this way I can see you all hot and sweaty and-“

“I’m still sitting here Spike” interjected Angel in irritation.

Both blonds shared a glance, silently agreeing to continue the rather interesting conversation in their room. Sighing inwardly Buffy realised that she should probably talk to the brooding leader. After all I am living under his roof.

“How did you get this place anyway? Last time I checked eighteen year olds weren’t wealthy enough to own a mansion.”

Angel laughed, glad that she was finally paying attention to him. “Normally they aren’t but my folks are fairly generous when they want to get rid of you.” He waved off the pitying look that Buffy was unwittingly giving him. “I’m perfectly happy about the arrangement Summers. Don’t worry… They moved to Boca, Florida of all places cause of the retirement villages and are happy there as far as I know.”

“As far as you know?”

Spike answered for Angel knowing that the abandonment of his family was still a sore spot. It was part of the reason he had first created the gang. They cared for him, well and truly beyond a legal sense. “A lot of the members here have parents who are shall we say busy.”

“Oh” replied Buffy quietly. “I can understand that.”

Spike nodded, hugging her frame closer. He’d have to get some of the men to go by the house later and see if they couldn’t put Joyce in a clinic. The bird was mad as a hatter but she was still Buffy’s mum. “I’m the only one who practically has anything remote to parenting and well Ripper and me are out of sorts so…”

“So you live here.” Buffy suddenly understood how this ‘family’ could be so closely bonded. “But what about Cordelia? She lives with her family.”

Angel brushed his face in a frustrated gesture. Just thinking about Cordy had him ready to throw a fit. “Cordy was given the option but since she’s ‘unsure about our relationship and the lifestyle I lead’” quoted Angel in a falsetto voice “she won’t move in. I don’t think we’ll last much longer” he admitted softly.

The room fell silent for a moment before Angel jumped up briskly, his face carefully masked. “Be ready for the pickup tomorrow night Spike” he said commandingly.

Buffy watched him stride out of the room, turning her head in confusion to look at Spike. “What was that about?”

Spike sighed, ruffling his hair and wishing that he could escape this whole conversation. “IhavetogopickupParker’ssupply” he mumbled.

The gentle smile Buffy had worn previously was quickly replaced for that of a thundercloud. “Drugs?” she asked in a far too calm voice.

The Brit shook his head. “That’s next Wednesday… tomorrow its new weapons.”

Getting off Spike’s lap in order to maintain her composure, Buffy took several steps back. “What are they for?” Her arms crossed against her chest, drawing Spike’s attention to her breasts.

“Wha?” he asked dazedly. All he could think about when entering the house was thoughts of Buffy and what she would taste like, feel like, look like. Noticing the rage which threatened to spill forth at any second Spike remembered the conversation. “Oh the weapons... They’re for us luv.”

Suddenly the calm composure Buffy had been practicing broke. Completely. “They can’t be for the gang!” she yelled. “That would mean that you’re planning to get in a fight with the Initiative….” her voice faltered at the intent gaze Spike was giving her, not willing to hide their plans from her, but not ashamed. “Spike no, you can’t fight. It’s not safe. You’ll get hurt.”

Spike stood up, his arms holding her back as she moved closer to him. “I have to Buffy. These people are my life and my future. Without them, I would be bloody well dead.”

“But it’s a waste Spike! You shouldn’t have to fight over some stupid piece of land or anything else for that matter.” Her chest was seizing up at just the thought of Spike being involved in something like that. There was a very likely chance he could die.

“I fought for you Buffy” said Spike, not wanting to give in to the chit. “Was it a waste to protect you in that alleyway?” He waited a moment for her answer, lips smirking bitterly at the silence. “I didn’t bloody well think so. Parker is going to get worse luv and we have to be prepared and if needs be take it to the wanker. Angel gives the marching orders and-“

“And you ask where to” spat Buffy feeling absolutely sick to her stomach. “Don’t use me as an excuse for dieing Spike” retorted Buffy. Ripping herself out of the steel hands which held her, she ran up the stairs, slamming the door with a crash.

Spike stared at the floor, knowing that he should go up there and console her but unwilling to bend. It’s not like I have a bleeding choice he reasoned. Silly bint doesn’t understand that you have to do certain things in order to get respect and protect what’s yours. The Brit felt his heart twinge guiltily as he thought of her hurt expression. Maybe she did care for him. “ Yeah and maybe my name is bloody Elmo” muttered Spike, shouldering on his black duster. Better not to think about it and get smashed. The bleached blond grabbed his keys before stalking out the door. All these emotions were getting to him.

***

Riley watched Spike leave with glee knowing that this was his chance to finally speak to Buffy. The Brit had been around her constantly since he had first caught a glimpse at her and Riley relished the opportunity of maybe setting his own mark. Perhaps, Buffy wasn’t so happy being Spike’s girl after all.

The hulking man placed himself in the kitchen knowing that sooner or later she would be hungry and come downstairs. All he had to do was bide his time.

The Bronze was a dark warehouse which was neutral for the gangs. It seemed built upon a standard of sex and violence but retained a somewhat clean image to hundreds of people who came from out of town, specifically to experience it. Which only annoyed the living hell out of Spike. Everyone already knew him in LA and since the notoriety of the Bronze grew had brought migrants to Sunnyhell. The Brit could barely breathe unless going to a dive to get plastered.
Its one saving grace was that the Initiative didn’t always go there and thus led to fewer altercations. Not that Spike would have minded a decent brawl… he would try anything to get his mind off Buffy.

The floor seemed to shudder with the impact of the bass music, Garbage’s “#1 Crush” causing a stir of people to flood the downstairs area. Spike shoved them out his way, muttering his curses under his breath as he grabbed the stool.

Finally he had reached the bar.

Ignoring the appreciate glances which followed him the Brit took a deep swig of bourbon, relishing the burn as it coursed down his throat. His duster hung over the back of the stool, acting as a clear warning to all to stay far away. Back when Dru had thrown tantrums, Parker’s ninnies had thought it would be good to torment him. They hadn’t expected Spike to fight back. Even half pissed the Brit had broken several arms leaving the crowd to acknowledge that he was better left alone. The Brit sighed in relief, his elbows leaning against the counter, as other patrons moved to stools further away.

Now this was better.

To peace of mind thought Spike bitterly, downing his third but nowhere near last shot for that night.

He stayed hunched over that bar for well past an hour, not keeping count of the refills but rather encouraging and sometimes threatening the bar keeper for more. He was on a mission to get so plastered that all recent events would vanish from his mind, at least for several hours. He knew that they’d return soon enough with Buffy, probably carrying small harmers to slam into his skull and jesus he was already drunk.

Spike never registered the brunette which sat beside him later, her clinging clothes doing little to hide her frame. Breasts spilled out of her green top whilst the leather pants hugged every inch of her hips. A few guys had been following her all night and had only stopped when seeing she was headed in Spike’s direction. Even then they lingered on the side lines waiting.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Her smile was purely sexual, darting over Spike’s form with predatory calculation.

Spike swayed his head in her direction, bloodshot eyes taking a minute to focus on her. “Hullo Faith” he slurred. “Where’s your bitch Parker?”

Faith swung thick brown hair behind her, turning on her seat so that she faced him. The man was completely plastered.

“At home nursing his foot which by the way was not a very nice method of saying goodbye” replied Faith with a grin. “Thanks to you, I’m the one who has to do all the work while the guy just lies there. I have half a mind just to shoot him in the head.”

Spike stared at the counter which had odd messages scrawled across it. He tried to read some before the pounding in his head became too much. He needed to get home. “I don’t know why you fuck him Faith. The wanker’s never done anything good for anyone.”

Faith nodded her head at the bar keep, sculling a shot of Tequila as Spike’s body slumped further. “But your forgetting what happens if I stop blondie.”

“What would happen Faith? You know that the minute you leave the wanker Aureli will open the sodding door and induct you in a flash. And if Abrams did decide to cause trouble I’d blow his bloody brains out.”

The cocky brunette set her shot glass back on the bar, cradling Spike’s head in her hands so he would look at her. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man, dark, dangerous and completely devoted. “You’re right but I don’t like the idea of being a kept woman… I’d have to become Angel’s girl and we know how Peaches feels about girls getting their hands dirty. It works out better this way. I can still feed you information and talk to you every once in a while.”

“That’s no kind of life.”

“Yeah but what’s a girl to do…” Faith resisted the urge to kiss him, his lips smelling of bourbon but still completely irresistible. It was better to change the conversation. “I heard about your girl. Some chick named Summers?”

“Yeah” answered Spike. Just when I was starting to not feel guilty for having a bleeding argument with the chit and Faith brings her up. “Wha’ about her?”

Faith set his head down, chuckling as his entire torso all but fell onto the bar. She’d have to call Angel in a few minutes. “Don’t give me that casual shit Spike. Both you and Parker have the hots for her and she’s a goody two shoes. What’s the attraction?”

“She’s sunlight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Faith perplexed.

“Just that” replied Spike, feeling a dull thud creep across his temple. “She’s everything all rolled up into one. Burning, pure, strong, bright, beautiful, she’s sunlight.” He looked at Faith as though she should understand but found the woman shaking her head in dismay.

“And I take it that this sunshine has driven you to the bar?”

Spike wished that he could get up and walk away. A part of him had always known that Faith cared for him if not felt something deeper but she was self destructive and the complete opposite of Buffy. All he could ever seem to think was of the small petite blond.

“She’s going to kill me.”

Faith’s throaty laugh echoed throughout the room, drawing them a few stares. “She’ll get over it if she loves you blondie. In the end you’re all she has. And she should be aware of how lucky she is.” Faith averted her dark brown eyes from Spike’s analysing gaze. If he wanted her then he would have already done something about it. God I wish he would.

“What I came here to tell you was that Finn’s been acting real suss lately.” Faith’s hand snuck across to his, checking the pulse which was beating regularly.

“Spike?”

“Yeah I’m listening. Just can’t seem to get control of my body.”

Faith shifted him, propping the Brit up against the counter so that he gazed at the gyrating mass of dancers. “It’s a side effect of drinking more than a football team blondie. You should of stopped a while ago.”

“Don’t lecture me Faith. Just tell me what you know.”

“Not much to go on really, Finn’s been in here skulking around and Parker’s suddenly taking a random calls from a some new guy… who funnily enough can give him detailed information about your girl. Couple that with him ditching Amy and you have a few odd occurrences.”

“Not connected though.”

“Don’t have to be” responded Faith. “All I’m saying is keep your eyes out and be prepared. Soldier boy is not the brightest of the bunch but he is sneaky.”

“Don’t forget that he’s a stupid git.” Spike grinned, one hand fumbling for the liquor behind him.

“No you don’t Spike. I’m cutting you off!”

“But Faith ... I…”

“No excuses blondie. Give me your cell and I’ll call Angel.” Faith stuck her hand into the duster pocket, wriggling past the flick knife before finally finding a small mobile.

“Big Bad?” she asked laughing at the cover.

Spike tilted his head away. “Sod off.”

Her dry chuckle rang out once more as she dialed Angel’s number.

“Hey Brood boy, I got Spike here and he needs someone to pick his sorry ass up.”

Buffy stuffed the journal beneath the mattress, glad that she had something within which to vent her emotions. She didn’t believe that Spike would take much notice of the book and after seeing how involved he was in the gang’s affairs would be peeking around looking for it anyway.

Frustrated at both herself and the bleached blond who had turned her world upside down again Buffy railed punches down on the plush pillows which sat on her bed. Wait not just my bed thought Buffy with surprise our bed.

The small blond cast her eyes around the room, finally looking at with the gaze of someone who recognised it as her home.

The walls were a dark blue as though someone was afraid to go black but still needed the somber mood. No posters hung on the walls which she found odd considering it was officially Spike’s room. The door was directly across from her, a heavy oak making her wonder how he had managed to kick it open as the dints so obviously showed. One window high above the reach of her arms sat behind her. It was free of any curtains, though they sat brushed aside, a thick gold colour. It felt sterile.

Buffy remembered the underwear and various clothes which had littered the dresser next to the bed before she had cleaned it out. She’d dumped them unceremoniously in the main foyer, disgusted by his behaviour and hoping that which ever girls they belonged to would pick them up.

Buffy certainly didn’t want any reminders of Angel in their room.

The full weight of what she’d done suddenly hit her and Buffy buckled under the weight, falling to the floor.

She had left home.

She had left her mother.

She was living with a man.

It was so far from anything that Buffy had imagined just a week ago that for a moment it seemed like a dream… a dream which was all too real with guns, violence and the stench of attempted rape.

Not really a dream but more of a nightmare come to life.

Picking herself up from the floor, Buffy walked steadily to the door. The one person she had in this was Spike who had crashed out of the door just moments after her departure upstairs.

The door opened with a creak, Buffy sliding out a moment later with hesitation. She only had her wits and the threat of what Spike would do if anyone decided to take things to far. That and my fists thought Buffy, flexing them in worry. The sooner I learn to fight the safer I’ll feel.

A long hallway traveled in both directions, the back of the house housing Angel’s rooms and the other gang members. Spike’s was one of the larger one’s though Buffy had the feeling that he’d only moved in when she did and still probably felt claustrophobic at the idea of so many people around.

She moved towards the main foyer, unable to roll her eyes at the Cinderella style stair case which descended down to the first level. It was over the top. A red carpet traveled down the steps, and Buffy was willing to bet that Angel had commissioned it. She listened for sounds of other people but heard only snatches of conversation most of the gang having departed for parts unknown.

Good.

Buffy’s stomach growled in hunger and the petite blond made her way down quickly, heading straight to the kitchen. She was starving.

There were six fridges lined up in a row due to the amount of people and alcohol which they housed. After finding the first two stuffed with cruisers and other beverages, Buffy moved to the third. It was full of pies, sweets, and best of all ice cream. Licking her lips in hunger, Buffy reached up to the top compartment. Her fingers grasped uselessly for a moment before a large beefy hand pushed the container towards her.

Grabbing it quickly, Buffy turned to see a hulking man leaning over top of her. Riley Finn.

“Uhhh Thanks.”

Riley’s goofy smile instantly appeared, the large man, made of muscle but little else. He had a Mr. Normal look, cut hair neatly slicked with gel in mimicry of Angel. His hands were incredibly large, looking like dish plates that were more useful for hitting things than anything else.

Riley saw her staring, and stepped back not wanting to scare the girl unless he had to. I can see what Spike likes her he thought, blatantly looking her up and down. He smoothed down his shirt, making sure his gun was hidden from her gaze.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked stupidly.

Buffy fought the urge to roll her eyes, uncomfortably aware they were alone. She wasn’t afraid of Riley Finn but stories could spread and that was the last thing she needed. He was a nice guy though, unassuming and polite. Normal. Buffy wondered how he had ever gotten involved in this type of lifestyle.

“I just came down here for some ice cream.” She smiled at him, moving into the living room and turning on the plasma screen.

He followed.

“Oh okay” he said pleasantly. The same dopey expression was plastered on his face, Riley having found it served his purpose of deflecting attention. They all think I’m just some corn fed idiot. I’ll show them.

He settled on the couch next to her, putting a small amount of space so that she would not feel awkward but close enough that he could grab her. Buffy dug into the cookies and cream obliviously, a late night talk show blaring in the background.

Perfect.

Moving his arm so that is sat around her, Riley slowly inched closer. “Buffy?”

“Yep?” asked Buffy, the ‘p’ popping from her mouth as she pulled out the spoon.

“How are you dealing with everything?”

The petite woman shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “Fine I guess. I mean anyone would be a bit wigged after being pulled from normal life but its okay… Spike’s good to me.”

Riley’s hand covered her knee, completely covering it. “You don’t have to lie to me Buffy.” His voice dripped with fake concern, managing to keep the grin off his face as the blond sighed in resignation.

“Did you hear us then?”

Riley scooted closer still, his leg now brushing against hers. “It was hard not to… I mean you were pretty loud.” Riley brought his arm down around her shoulders, silently whooping for joy when she leaned into what she thought was a friendly embrace. “I completely understand though. Spike is a rash fighter and could get himself hurt quite easily." If only he would. “He doesn’t understand that you care about him and I don’t think he ever will.”

“What?” asked Buffy suddenly noticing the way Riley was holding her. I need to shut Captain Cardboard down.

“Well it’s just Spike’s way” continued Riley, ignorant to the fact that Buffy was barely containing her rage. “He’s always been selfish as long as I’ve known him and women…. you have to face the fact that he’s not the poster boy for stability and monogamy.” Riley cupped her face, willing an adoring expression, “I could treat you so much better.”

Buffy stared at him, shocked that Riley would try this in her home, Spike’s home. He obviously was waiting for a response, making Buffy just want to run out of his arms and find a large baseball bat. In her mind she imagined the ways his expression would alter after being hit over the head a couple of times. Noticing that his lips were heading in her direction, Buffy grasped his face, smashing her forehead against his in a spectacular head butt.

Now run Summers.

Pelting away with all her might, Buffy couldn’t help the grin which spilled from her face at Riley’s belated cry of pain. She looked back for a moment only to see the lumbering giant staggering after her.

”Come back here Buffy.”

Terror laced through her frame and she pelted that much quicker to the staircase. She grabbed hold of the railing, a scream tearing from her lips as Riley latched onto one ankle.

“No Riley, get off!”

Buffy began to kick out, striking back at his hands which were now trailing up her legs. She didn’t think she would be so lucky this time.

The abrupt dropping of her legs followed by an animal roar made Buffy turn around in surprise. The door to the mansion was wide open, Angel standing there in shock whilst Spike sprinted in her direction.

Why am I always in awkward positions when he turns up? thought Buffy in a moment of lucidity.

Her breath was snatched from her the next second as Angel picked her up, running worrying hands over her face to check that she was alright. “Oh Buffy. I’m sorry that I didn’t leave someone here. I didn’t think that Finn would be so stupid…”

The petite blond moved back from Angel, not really hearing his words as she took in the worst beating she had ever seen.

Spike was literally pounding his fists into Riley’s face, not bothering to hit him anywhere else. The man’s legs flailed uselessly in mimicry of arms which weakly pushed at Spike’s smaller frame. Despite the difference in size, the Brit was completely in control, only stopping when Finn’s body slumped. Buffy gasped in horror when a bloody mess greeted her sight, Riley’s nose broken and splintered into pieces.

Other people had gathered around, none touching the fallen member in a show of loyalty. The man was as good as dead for touching anyone who didn’t belong to him.

Spike ignored the stares, walking straight to Buffy before checking her over himself for injuries. He kept mumbling curse words and phrases below his breath, unaware of the blood which ran down his arms in rivulets. The stench of it covered everything in the foyer making Buffy want to balk.

“Are you okay pet?” he asked, finally speaking above a whisper. All he could remember was Faith’s words from earlier.

“Finn’s been in here skulking around and Parker’s suddenly taking random calls from a some new guy… who funnily enough can give him detailed information about your girl. Couple that with him ditching Amy and you have a few odd occurrences.”

“Finn’s been acting real suss lately”

The brunette had been right.

He numbly clasped his girl’s hand as she led them up the stairs, Angel stating that he’d clean up the mess and deal with Finn.

***
It took Buffy nearly twenty minutes to get Spike to their room, the man completely catatonic after making sure she was alright. He was covered in blood and the smell of bourbon also hung in the air, making Buffy realise that he had been drinking. She sniffed his duster before dropping it at the foot of the bed. They would have to soak it in eucalyptus oil to rid the leather of the stench of alcohol.

Buffy looked back at Spike, who stood silently, not looking at anything but the ground. He could not go to bed without washing himself. She suggested this to him before realising that the man was in a state of shock, not thinking clearly and still very drunk to boot.

He did respond when she took him by the hand, flicking on the light switch and revealing a large stand in shower and separate bath.

Bath is probably my best option she thought, watching in concern as Spike began to strip.

He practically ripped the shirt from his chest, the blood and alcohol in the fabric making a wet slapping sound as it hit the floor. He popped out his jeans with the same carelessness, throwing them into a corner and shuddering.

“I’ll guess I should go get ready for bed-“

An iron grip encased her arm before she could finish her sentence, azure eyes burning into hers.

“Buffy.” His voice was raspy as though from lack of use despite the pure rage that had sprung from his lips, half an hour before. “Please stay luv… I need to see you…” His eyes were completely open, want and need warring with a helplessness which threatened to engulf him.

“I’ll stay” she promised.

Spike nodded and a weight lifted from him as he moved into the shower, leaving the curtain open. His eyes never left hers, locking them in a strange silence that was only broken by the hissing of steam and thud of water.

She never glanced lower than his chest, though the idea of it was eating at her. Even bloody and stinking of booze he was still the most attractive man she had ever seen or met.

Finally the water switched off, Spike stepping out over the drain in measured movements. He grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it securely over his hips before taking her into his arms.

“I keep getting you hurt Summers.” His voice was soft and lilting as though the Brit was struggling to keep emotion from choking him. His arms, lean and muscular wrapped themselves around her, not grabbing for the sake of touching suggestively but to make sure that she was still there, unarmed and safe.

Realising that Spike would only keep berating himself about the incident with Riley, Buffy peeled his arms off of her, leading him into the bedroom.

She settled him down on the bed, ignoring how delicious he looked in nothing but a towel. Pay attention Buffy. You can touch his yummy abs later, right now he needs comfort.

She kneeled before him, placing his hand against her cheek as she closed her eyes. “I want you to listen to me Spike” she said gently but still in a commanding tone.

He nodded in concurrence.

“What happened tonight, in that alleyway and any other time you think something has endangered me, is NOT your fault. There are risks with your lifestyle and commitments that will force you to be away from me. Add in the fact that I’m cute and you have several obstacles. All I ask is that you teach me to protect myself.” She grinned at his assuring nod. “That said, you have never hurt me intentionally nor do I think you could…” Buffy paused, drawing a deep breath as she reined back her fear. “I’m developing feelings for you Spike… and I need to know that if you feel the same you’ll tell me.” Buffy waved her hand at their room. “This means nothing if you don’t care about me.”

“Oh but love I do.” Spike’s face was filled with rapture, unbelieving that she would ever confess to feeling anything for him. He had been certain that she would reject him after their argument earlier. He reached forward, feeling his heart near burst as she flew into his arms. “I can’t live without you Buffy. I’ve known you not even a month but I can’t imagine not having you here… when I saw Finn…. all I could see was this empty space.” He buried his face in her shoulder “I couldn’t bear it if you got hurt.”

Buffy tilted his head to look at her. All she could see was Spike and her love for him. It was too soon for most people but then she’d never been ordinary. She gave with everything in her. With Spike it would be no different.

Drawing Spike’s lips into a loving kiss, Buffy pushed him back onto the bed. She continued to nibble on the top then the bottom, grinning when she heard Spike moan. She took the entrance for what it was, pushing her tongue inside his mouth before engaging in a passionate kiss. Spike’s hand reached up quickly, curling around her head as he deepened his penetration of her mouth. He constantly switched tactics, leaving her breathless and in an aroused state when they broke apart for air.

Buffy kissed him primly on the lips before moving her mouth down to suckle on his ear lobe and then neck. He moaned again, causing her to rather boldly brush a hand down his chest. Spike moved reflexively against her, his muscles tightening with each stroke. She licked her way down to his chest, sucking on his left nipple and biting it teasingly before moving across to the other one. His breaths were becoming heavier and one hand slid underneath her shirt, caressing her back.

Buffy arched in response. Licking her way down to his navel, Buffy grinned at the gasp which escaped him. She was going to love learning his body. Her chest brushed against the towel which was now tented with Spike’s very prominent arousal.

Bingo.

Buffy moved one hand to his hip bone, unfolding the towel and letting it fall to the side.

OH MY GOD.

Buffy sat back on her knees amazed at the size and almost impossible girth of Spike’s appendage. It stood up straight in the air, proud and looking altogether delectable.

Spike’s head looked up from the bed, confused at the sudden halt. “Pet?”

Buffy looked up, her eyes glazed with lust as she stared at him. Crawling up his body she kissed Spike hungrily before asking what she’d combust without. “Make love to me Spike.” Her words whispered hot against his neck making the man want to roll her over and slam into her full hilt.

However he needed to make sure that she was certain first.

“Are you positive pet?” he asked gently.

Buffy eagerly nodded, “very sure.”

“Right then” said Spike reaching for her and loving the way she crawled into his lap.

He could die a happy man now.

Spike took his time unbuttoning Buffy’s shirt, mouth watering as perfect breasts were revealed to his gaze. She didn’t wear a bra.

He latched on to one nipple, sucking it hungrily as her mewls of pleasure reached him. She was incredibly responsive, grinding into his lap with abandon.

“Buffy.”

He let go of her breast, rubbing the other one as his hand snaked down to her pants. They came undone easily, leaving the petite blond in nothing but a pair of panties.

Holding her back from him for a moment, Spike simply stared at her. “You’re so bleeding beautiful Buffy.” His tone was hushed and awed, amazed that a girl like her would ever let him touch her. “My golden goddess.”

He laid her back onto the covers, stroking her skin to remind himself that this was really happening. Her green hazel orbs were fixed on him, soft pants escaping her frame as she reached for him.

“I need you Spike.”

Buggering hell. How am I meant to go slow when hearing that?

He kissed her once again, snaking one hand down into her sodden panties. She was incredibly warm and wet, making Spike shiver at the thought of being inside her. He pinched her clit which was throbbing in need making Buffy scream in pleasure.

He started to move his body lower until Buffy dragged his face towards hers. “Spike…” she gasped. “I want you in me now.”

He nodded, thrusting two fingers inside her and moaning at the muscles which clenched fiercely. If he didn’t get inside he was positive that he would spontaneously self combust.

Tearing the lace scrap that Buffy called underwear off her body, Spike positioned himself at her entrance, nudging himself in slowly. She was like a furnace, burning him as every muscle clenched invitingly. Spike had to bit his lip not to cum instantly, reaching her barrier only after several slow thrusts.

Buffy grasped his ass in encouragement, breaking her maidenhood with one steady push.

“Spike” she whimpered. The pain cut through her abdomen whitewashing everything for a moment. Spike peppered kisses across her face, rubbing soothing caresses down her frame. “I’m sorry luv. I swear it won’t last long.”

Buffy reached for him, smiling in relief as the pain subsided. All she could feel was this ache in her body, the full feel of his cock driving her mad with desire. She needed him to move now.

Kissing him with abandon, Buffy lifted her hips urging him onwards as their lovemaking grew quicker and quicker. Neither could help the cries which flew from their mouths, the intimate connection pulling at the very fibers of their being.

Panting into her ear as he drove himself deeper inside, Spike couldn’t stop the words “I love you” from slipping out. They were lost in the fast paced movements however, Buffy spiraling towards her reach with a joyous cry. Spike followed shortly after, both trembling with the force of their lovemaking.

Brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, Spike placed a sweet kiss on her thoroughly nibbled on lips. “I love you Buffy Anne Summers.”

Buffy tangled her arms around Spike’s neck, unable to let go of him for even a moment. “I love you too” she whispered.

It hurt to open his eyes. The blood which had congealed over Riley’s face was stiff, a crisp layer which when brushing his hand against, refused to move.

He could remember the night with clarity up until a body had slammed into his side and smashed him to the ground. Riley had never even had a chance to catch a glimpse of his assailants face, the man punching him solidly in the head continuously.

Sitting up with a groan, Riley rubbed at the blood spattered across his face. Despite not knowing who had left him not much more than a bloody mess, it would have to be Spike.

He’s the only one who can punch that hard.

It only made Riley that much more determined to make the obnoxious Brit pay.

Him and his little bitch.

Opening his eyes and squinting through the blurred lenses, Riley noticed that he was locked in a holding cell. He knew from memory that they were located on the general floor in a restricted area that only a select few had access to. Spike being one of them. It was solid concrete and worse than a prison cell in the fact that it had no windows and an immovable steel door. Angel was obviously not going to forgive him.

Hazily remembering being dragged to the area, Riley cursed as he found his mobile confiscated. Parker had told him to call upon securing the girl and would only punish him more if he didn’t update on the situation. The large man cringed at the thought of what he would be subjected to if he ever escaped.

And that was a large if.

Gang members that betrayed or touched what was not theirs often went missing according to public records. Unofficially they ended up in a dumpster in LA. Parker was the only man fated to get away from the Aurelius’ clutches and even then Masters had had to intervene to ensure his safety and stop continuous bloodshed.

No Higher Power would interfere on Riley’s behalf.

Slumping back against the wall, the country hick turned poorly made gang member counted his remaining minutes.

Spike would be coming soon enough.

***

Buffy shook off the thick blue covers of the bed, a pleased smile blooming on her face as she took in Spike’s tousled form. The bleached blond had slept the night away, barely moving an inch except to brush bruised lips against her shoulder blade. His hands were buried underneath the pillows, soft snores escaping a gaping mouth.

He was completely adorable.

The petite blond moved swiftly across the room, still unsure of herself in such a bare state. Part of her was shocked at how quickly things had progressed but inwardly she knew it was the right action. Spike had done nothing but protect her, most notably from the corn fed idiot last night.

Buffy had a dark idea of what fate Riley would suffer.

Noting that Spike was still asleep, Buffy pulled on a set of clothes, a heavy woolen jumper hiding her slight frame from any peering eyes which may glance at her once she left the room. Either there were not enough women for the men or Buffy was attractive by belonging to Spike.

She didn’t want to analyse the feeling that welled inside her at the thought of being owned by anyone. It was inevitable but not something her nature could truly accept. She placed her hand on the door knob, unlocking it as quietly as possible before slipping out of the room.

Just like before the hallways loomed in either direction however this time Buffy decided to be adventurous and traveled off in the opposite direction. The carpet beneath her bare feet was a dark red almost the colour of blood and thankfully free of any indicative stains. It continued what seemed endlessly, rooms once more appearing on either side a few feet down from theirs. Spike must like the privacy. One hand brushed the walls, dipping regularly at each doorway. There were easily over 10 rooms on either side and that was not counting downstairs.

She reached the corner of the hallway several minutes later, a sharp angle leading into more gloomily lit passages. Buffy hesitated a moment, her small nose scrunching in thoughtfulness as she contemplated whether to go any further. That direction lead to Angel’s rooms and the more senior members of the gang, people who Buffy wasn’t positive that she wanted to get to know so personally… Spike was still passed out in their bed and any screams would be ignored.

She made to turn back when a solid chest blocked her retreat. Not again.

This time though the man stepped when seeing that he was far too close for his own good. Buffy’s hazel eyes entranced him, causing Jacob to gulp nervously. He had always been a sucker for a pretty girl.

“Hey. I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself but my name’s Jacob O’Hara.”

Extending his hand, Jacob brushed jet black hair from his forehead, the shaggy cut reminding Buffy of a rock star’s haircut. His eyes were neither green nor brown, a thin ring of yellow circling the pupil. His nose was defined, complimented by a thick bottom lip which jutted out conspicuously.

Buffy liked him immediately.

“Nice to meet you Jacob O’Hara from I presume Ireland?” Her voice was upturned at the end, grinning unabashedly at his confirming nod. “My name’s Buffy Summers.” She grasped his hand lightly noting the way he seemed to cradle it rather than shake it firmly like a man.

“How come I haven’t seen you before?”

Jacob shrugged, his quiet nature making an unexpected appearance, as his head ducked shyly. “I was away on business for Angel and only got back this morning” he explained. “I had heard about you and just had to meet the infamous Buffy Summers who has both gangs breathing heavy.”

He looked away, embarrassed at her blush. This was already inappropriate by his peer’s standards but the girl intrigued him. How could such a pretty girl want anything to do with William the Bloody?

He caught the last bit of Buffy’s question, smiling in encouragement as she pulled him with her down the corridor to breakfast. He would take advantage of Spike’s hangover while he could.

***

The room was swimming. There was no other way to describe the merry go round that made his stomach want to chuck and his head thud for eternity.

I shouldn’t of drunk so much bloody booze.

Spike raked one hand through already poofterish looking locks, groaning as he realised that he already slept in far past his normal waking time. It was nearing the end of breakfast, a thought which made the contents of his stomach threaten to escape. He pushed back the notion of sitting up, instead inhaling deeply the scent of a girl and could that be…

Spike shook his head in bewilderment, regretting it a moment later when a gong seemed to shatter in his brain. Drinking was definitely not of the good. Particularly when you could barely remember a sodding thing. There was a hazy memory however and if Spike was imagining himself as a far luckier bloke he could consider the possibility that he and Buffy had done more than sleep. Plus there was that infuriating smell of pure Buffy, something that no amount booze could eradicate from his senses.

The bleached blond forced himself upright, a string of “bloody hells” and “sodding fucking Jack Daniels” raining throughout his speech. That was the last time he ever got drunk without counting the amount of shots. He slowly turned his head to look at the sheets, noting their jumbled mess and feeling a strange sense of melancholy fill him. She had left him in the bed alone. Granted I sleep like the sodding dead thought Spike in an attempt to quell his hurt feelings, but it’s the principle of the thing. He scented the air again. They had definitely been up to something. His knuckles were bruised with a dark purple, clean and smelling of soap which he guessed was from a recent bath. The Brit didn’t often have time for a shower when out on the road with the poofter and one of his deals. There was no way he’d share any hot water with the wanker. The sight would leave him scarred for life.

Snorting at the direction his thoughts were taking, Spike willed himself to remember something, anything so he would not hurt the tiny chit who had obviously been about some bloody business with him last night.

The snapshot of Finn’s broken face fixed into place, causing Spike to clench his hands unconsciously. He had fubared the pillock for pawing at Buffy, hazy memories recalling the sight of the jock’s hand crawling up her leg.

That explains the hands, thought Spike wryly. Now to these sheets…

The bleached blond sat there for twenty minutes, odd images of the shower and Buffy’s concerned expression fading in and out of view, however nothing more came to mind. “Fuck.” Spike knew that a major piece was missing, an issue that could tear apart his complacency and nonchalance towards his current situation in a heart beat.

I’ll just have to act like everything is normal and hope Buffy gives me a clue. Either that or shoot myself in the bloody head and stop a few headaches.

He threw off the sheets, walking naked to the cupboard and clambering into the traditional black t shirt and jeans. Spike had the sinking feeling that no matter what he said or didn’t say things were about to get infinitely more complicated.

At least I can finally take care of that pillock Riley. The man’s time was finally up.

Buffy found out quickly that Jacob was by nature a very quiet man, not given to long speeches or bravado which Angel excelled at. He was almost a mime, nodding at gang members and comrades but never opening his mouth except to whisper a joke to Buffy. His attention was focused on her all the way down to the kitchen.

An odd way of being friendly, but Buffy was glad for the company. Spike had still not come out of his room.

Despite his odd preoccupation with her, Buffy noticed that he held himself with an assured grace, an almost dark knowledge of his own abilities.

To be quite blunt: Jacob was an anomaly.

She had gone down with him to the main floor before quickly hurrying out of the kitchen, leaving him behind to gather what breakfast he desired. The events of last night were all too recent to venture into such area. The baggy sweater which had been purchased from a backyard sale for a joke was quickly becoming the petite blonde’s favourite piece of clothing, shielding her from enquiring stares.

Everyone knew of what had taken place with Finn.

It was a weird feeling, sitting on the same couch as she had before, and noticing that for all the knowing glances which snuck across the dark carpet no one said a word about Captain Cardboard. It’s like a giant pink elephant. Buffy closed her eyes, glad that no comments had been made in her direction and that they bothered to hide their thoughts. It had been pure torture listening to Harmony and her minions discuss her clothes and make snide comments only a few feet away. It surprised her that the gang didn’t before she remembered that here she had position, even if it only came from being wanted by Spike.

Buffy looked at the staircase openly, wondering what was taking him so long. His hangover can’t be that bad… could it?

She started to move off the couch before hearing Angel’s deep voice fill the room.

“Everyone if I could have your attention!”

Buffy swiveled her head towards her ‘leader’, not noticing as Jacob sat down beside her.

Angel looked nothing like the criminal he was.

The brunette was clad in a white T shirt, its colour making his skin appear all the more paler. His waist was clad with a large belt, the holster for his gun thankfully empty. He practically shone in a room full of people dressed head to toe in black or strong earthy colours.

Her hazel eyes stared at him, a sick feeling rising up through her stomach. Something was going to happen and by the smiles of anticipation which began to sweep like a wave across the room’s occupants, it would be soon. She brushed an errant lock from her face, completely unaware to the shy way Jacob followed it with his eyes. The man was far enough away to be decent but it was obvious that he was nothing if not elated at the Brit’s absence.

Angel opened his mouth to speak yet closed it shut in annoyance when seeing his second command lurk on the fringes of the room. What on earth is he doing? Angel wondered. His brow furrowed comically, a brooding expression settling on his face as he regarded where the Brit’s eyes were fixed on.

Buffy.

And not just Buffy, but Jacob as well.

The Irishman had returned the night before from a checkup on his boy Connor, but not everyone had been happy with his homecoming. The man was not safe. Not open with the men and kept to himself in a manner which even Spike thought was shifty. Perhaps it was his quiet decorum or the fact that he never took part in simply communal outings but for Angel the most damning piece of evidence had been his close association with Masters, and not only Masters but his lackey Ford. Billy Fordham . Angel knew enough of the older man to see him for what he was: a backstabbing liar with goody two shoes looks and a smile that would make you grin back as he sold you to the devil.

Something was definitely wrong if Jacob was near Buffy.

Angel struggled to hold back the sigh which was desperately seeking its way out. Everything was becoming far too complicated and he didn’t know whether this whole thing with Summers would blow up in their faces. Angel took another glance at Spike, hating the pain which raced across his face. He’d talk to the girl himself if there was even a chance of breaking the Brit’s heart. Spike was already too involved with the girl as it was. I need to have a word with him.

He waited a moment, hoping that Spike would keep out of sight and let him get on with the sentence. It would be hard enough to deal with Cordelia let alone having Spike snap Jacob right in front of the gang.

“Riley Finn has transgressed and attempted to hurt a woman and in doing so attacked us all.” Angel’s tone was cold and heartless, the man having no respect for anyone who went after another’s woman. Even if Buffy is absolutely beautiful.

A small murmur of acknowledgement echoed through the gang. No one would stop the punishment even if it ended in the farmer’s death. They had all been warned when the blond arrived, Finn privately and if he was stupid enough to try something like that then he deserved whatever Angel decided to dish out.

No one envied Finn’s position.

“I am a fair leader. I’ve told you all that your relationships are your business but there are things I won’t allow. Rape or attempted being one of them.” Angel focused his gaze on Buffy, sending a silent message of warning to Jacob who had been staring at her rather then Angel. “Did you encourage him Summers?”

Buffy wanted to slap Angel for even asking the question but guessed that it was for the benefit of everyone who had not witnessed the incident. “Of course not, why would I Angel?”

The brunette held up his hands, unsurprised by her venomous response. “Just asking Buffy” he said soothingly. “We need to make sure that Finn is guilty” he made a pacifying gesture in order to ward off any potential kicks to the shins “and we have Summers.” Angel fought the urge to rub his shin, her punishing kick not forgotten.

Spike caught the movement, a smirk rising to his lips even as Jacob scooted closer to his girl. He had lingered in the shadows just watching her, loving the way her messy ponytail trailed down her back and the grace with which she moved. Everything about her was perfect. So much more than he ever could deserve. Spike swallowed the lump in his throat, hating himself with every passing moment.

Thank the gods she doesn’t know.

It had hit Spike the second he caught sight of Buffy what exactly had transpired last night. Her body was now open to him, her rising chest mapped out in his mind even if he had been too smashed to remember it earlier. The Brit felt awe run through him at what else had been revealed. Her gentle hands, the soft sighs, every single gasp was on constant replay, shifting the hammers to the back of his head and making Spike want to run into the room and drag her to her feet. His heavy combat boots began to sneak forward but he stopped them.

Gazing at Buffy he could see the truth of their situation, the bloody colour of the couches doing nothing to taint her appearance. She was all pure sunlight and he…

I’m nothing but a sodding gangster. The thought made him grimace. I’ll never be able to give her anything decent. Only blood and violence. His eyes ran over her form, unwilling to blink or look away.

He was dragging her down.

Spike cast azure eyes to his leader and thorn in the side, Angelus, not liking the way the poofter was standing. There was something calculating about it. An idea which didn’t sit well with the bleached blond considering that his wanker of a leader couldn’t carry through a plan if he had the help of Satan himself.

Bloody poof is probably shaking in his sodding boots thought Spike darkly, knowing that Angel worried about the slightest thing. The big brooding git.

He had to clench his fists from going over to where Buffy sat and ripping Jacob away from her. He knew that the Irishman might be just acting friendly but his gut told him different. Either that or the alcohol was still playing with his system. Spike forced himself to lean against the doorway, confused about his next plan of action and more than anything else what Angel had planned. Whenever someone committed an unacceptable offence they offed them, pure and simple. What his leader was calling for promised to be a bloody and barbaric act. Perhaps, a warning what with Parker sniffing so close.

The clanging sound of the holding door being shut and the scuffled sounds which sounded awfully like a body being dragged, snapped the Brit from his thoughts. He’d have to deal with his own problems later.

A few minutes later, Finn was hauled into the room, his face still coated in blood and unable to do more than lift his arms and swipe weakly at his captors. The man had been well and truly broken. Some of the gang members aware of his presence, raised enquiring eyebrows, shocked at the obvious viciousness of Spike’s attack.

He pointed back to the chained man and mouthed ‘watch’.

Angel kicked Riley in the stomach, holding back the grin which threatened to spill forth when he groaned in pain. He would make this something nobody would ever forget. And they’ll never consider touching Buffy or any of the women again unbidden.

“Unchain him Gunn.”

Gunn, a street fighter in LA, nodded hating the stench of blood which surrounded the farm boy. Finn was a hick at heart but he’d never thought that someone could stoop so low. Going after Spike’s girl only proved how stupid Riley really was. He took them off carefully, deep brown eyes hard but wishing that Angel would go easy. Spike had already more than decimated the man.

Riley never said a word, wheezing in great breaths and lying incredibly still.

Angel knelt down, his empty gun holster sitting provocatively near Finn’s face and grinned at Spike with deadly menace. “I guess you already punished him Will?”

All eyes turned to Spike, the drunk stumbling man from the night before replaced with could almost be a demon, his face solemn as though set in stone. The Brit dragged a cigarette from his Marlboro pack, noticing the grimace which crossed Buffy’s face and silently vowing to quit after the pack was finished. His zippo lighter flickered with flame a second later and Spike dragged the nicotine down his throat. “I bloody well hope so Peaches. I don’t know how much more I could punish the bloke after seeing him in the harsh light of day.” He flicked the ash onto the floor, winking at Buffy in what he hoped was a comforting signal. “Certainly can’t call Captain Cardboard G.I. Joe anymore; I ruined all his strikingly bland good looks.”

Angel nodded in approval though secretly he had hoped Spike would demand a killing. The carpet had been stained before and it would fit with the couches regardless. He grasped the collar of Riley’s shirt, hauling him up to his feet and snickering darkly when the man crumpled once more. Spike really had destroyed him.

Opening his arms wide, Angel ignored the stricken looks on the faces of Cordelia and Buffy, knowing that they would have to accept this. “What shall we do with him?” he asked.

A deadly chant rose into the air, the soft murmuring of “kill” rising to a crescendo as Angel waited.

Buffy felt like she was going to be sick. Jacob had joined in with the others, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder and making her skin crawl. His lips, plush and soft, whispered the words, a sibilant hiss leaving his mouth. The fact that he was joining in at all had the petite blond want to run from the room. She tried to do so, before noticing the warning shake of Spike’s head. His eyes had never strayed from her, connecting with her even as Angel once more lifted Riley up before flicking out a blade. She wanted to stop looking, shut her eyes or run from the room but the light blue held her, keeping her safe when the first true cry of pain tore through the air.

Jacob was watching avidly, his hand now playing with her ponytail and sentences falling from his mouth of ‘isn’t this great’ and ‘finally Finn get’s what he deserves.’

Another scream flew from Riley’s mouth, tearing into Buffy’s heart and causing tears to stream down her face.

“That’s enough Angel.” Spike barked the command, taking all attention onto himself so they would ignore Buffy’s shaking frame. If they thought for one second that she pitied the Captain then she would be fair game and there would be nothing Spike could do against thirty odd people.

The brunette looked up from his toy, Riley’s shirt torn open and deep gashes riddling his chest. He absolutely loved it.

“You have a better idea William?” Angel tossed the knife to Spike, stepping back and letting Finn fall uselessly to the floor. Everyone was surprised that the Brit had interrupted.

“As a matter of fact I do.” Spike’s hands, washed clean of the grime and blood from last night, quickly became soaked as he reached for Finn. He held him on either side of his chest, pitying the poor bastard even as he felt the urge to slit his throat. The pillock had been after Buffy. “Finn’s no good to us dead but he could be useful if alive.” Spike kept his tone light, berating himself for saving the pillock but knowing that anything else would destroy Buffy. He couldn’t have the death of a man litter her hands. Spike knew its weight and despite being justified when he killed, knew it never left.

“Finn didn’t think of this on his own.” Spike roughly grasped his chin, shuddering at the mangled mess that was Riley’s face. “You had help didn’t you mate?” The broken nod raised a gasp from the room in surprise. Spike moved one of his hands, calling for silence. “It was Parker wasn’t it you stupid git?” The broken agreement elicited more surprise from the gang. Spike let him fall back, not even flinching as Riley’s body made a sickening crack upon hitting the floor. “I say that we take him with us tonight Peaches and let Parker have a look at what we do to traitors. See if that don’t spark the fucking wanker’s interest.”

A chorus of approval met Spike’s suggestion, forcing Angel to agree. “If everyone accepts that proposal then I guess I must as well.” He patted Spike on the back, more of a stinging blow but not uncommon. “Good thinking Will.”

Spike didn’t bother to glance at Riley, nodding at his leader before striding directly over to Buffy. He opened his mouth to say something, buggered if he knew what when she threw herself into his arms, whispering ‘thankyous’ and soft declarations of love that made him want to melt.

How could he not trust her?

He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her higher and more firmly into his embrace before stalking out of the room and back up the stairs.

Nothing would make him forget this time.

The door opened with a firm kick, smashing into the wall and leaving a large dent.

Spike didn’t even notice.

All his attention was focused on the small blond girl in his arms. She wore a surprised expression, perhaps not expecting him to have carried her all the way to their room. Soft pliant hands were wrapped around his neck and as he walked further into the room, curled around his hair, breaking it free of the gel.

His heavy army boots were muffled by the carpet as he gently deposited her on the bed, neither speaking a word. Her long golden hair was still in the ponytail though he noticed that she was wrenching at it viciously trying to undo the knots which tangled it. Either that or to rid herself of Jacob’s touch.
He glared at the still open doorway and locked it with a loud clanging sound that would be able to heard down the hallway. An obvious warning for anyone hoping to interfere.

Sighing Spike’s eyes once more locked onto her, feeling a wave of guilt at the sight of tear tracks still resplendent on her skin and horror hidden just behind her obvious relief. It was a harsh reality to witness and had mirrored Cordelia with amazing similarity. Angel was a fool to show the girl that side of him so early. The prom queen would be trembling in his arms and unable to escape the image of Angel’s pure delight as he carved the captain’s chest to pieces. Not many girls had been able to even stomach it for that long but then it didn’t bear thinking about… Peaches will just have to manage his own affairs. Buffy was his only concern and if Spike was blunt the only person that he wanted to share himself with. At least he hoped he could. The sight of Jacob touching his girl had just about sent him into a rage. The man had no right to lay one hand upon her. None of them did.

He looked up in surprise, feeling Buffy’s hands traverse his back as she wrapped her arms around him. Blood covered his fingers and had seeped under the nails turning them into blood red half moons. It was all too familiar.

“Spike?”

The Brit readied himself, waiting for her to berate him for what had taken place downstairs. It was barbaric and everything she was above and apart from. It was not her world.

“Yes pet?”

“Why didn’t you kill him?” She pulled her head away from his chest, where it had been leaning comfortably. The baggy woolen jumper swallowed her body, looking more like a short dress as it moved along her thigh.

Spike gulped, not knowing how to answer.

“He has information pet. I can’t off a bloke if there might be some use out of him.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow, her face showing that she didn’t believe a single word he said. “Don’t give me that Spike. I’m shaken not stupid.” She stamped on his foot for good measure before dragging the jumper off and tossing it to the floor. “Tell me the truth.”

His chest heaved as panic raced through him. It had been easy enough last night to say that he loved her but now? Spike thought that he would be lucky if he didn’t self combust with nervousness. He loved her. Everything from his brain to the blood which raced in his veins knew it. William the Bloody was nothing if not drowning in Buffy Summers. But to say it? That was a completely different story.

Dru had never told him that she loved him. There had been declarations of want and affection but any moment which even came close to her returning his devotion was shattered; lost in sighs and off handed comments to distract him. It had ripped at his character, making him far more brutal to any other woman who dared attempt to replace her. And thanks to Peaches attempt to keep Spike from falling too deeply, there had been numerous amounts which did try. Women were the bane of his existence, seeming to want him purely for his position or reputation but never for him. Spike wasn’t sure that Dru had cared for his personality either. It was all too easy to recall the casual flip of her ebony hair over her shoulder and some remark about the stars or the constant rolling away from him after he whispered how he felt.

Maybe he was a fool to not see her cheating earlier.

Buffy was for Spike the first woman who hadn’t aroused the customary feelings of distrust and subsequent loathing. She was guileless and in the time he had watched her completely pure and beautiful. Buffy shone like the sun, burning away Drusilla’s darkness till it was nothing but ash.

Spike couldn’t breathe when around her.

The question still hung in the air, Buffy tapping a foot in exasperation as she waited. The chit had never been one blessed with patience.

Spike turned away, unable to look at her and confess himself with her eyes boring into his. Dru had always demanded that he remain a ‘bad dog’ and used all her wiles to transform him into William the Bloody. It was going against his very nature to admit any emotion besides anger.

But then again this was Buffy.

“I…” Spike faltered for a moment, his shoulders hunching closer to his body. “I couldn’t stand there and watch you break. Finn may be the biggest wanker to come from Iowa yet it was killing you to sit there and watch bloody Peaches carve him up. I can’t bear you crying pet.” He stared down at his hands, not thinking of anything else but the dead silence which held in the room. “I refuse to hurt you pet. Rather chop my sodding arm off.”

He tensed when she turned him to once more look at her. Luminous eyes were bright and questioning, her hair now free but still matted in odd clumps. She had never been more gorgeous.

Gnawing her lip, she seemed hesitant, Buffy’s question coming out in a rush. “Do you love me Spike?” Her pulse was racing but she hurried on not letting him answer. “I know that you said it last night but maybe things changed or you’ve-“

Spike’s lips met hers, cutting off her rambling with a fierce kiss that stole Buffy’s breath away. He delved his tongue into her mouth, forcing every ounce of his emotion into the action. It took possession of them both with hands, one pair bloody sliding under shirts in a desperate need for connection. Buffy moaned loudly when he lifted the hem of her top, pushing it up her abdomen and immediately reaching for her breasts.

It took several minutes for her to realise that he had stopped. Panting harshly Buffy stared at him, a little bit peeved that he had halted just when getting to the good part.

Not that any of it is bad, she thought when glancing at his narrow hips which jutted forward invitingly.

Azure eyes melted away her musings the next second, Spike leaning his forehead against her and taking hold of her hands. “I don’t know whether I said this properly pet” admitted Spike gruffly. “But I can’t be without you, can’t breathe without whispering your name and certainly can’t see you cry because of something that I can prevent. You’re my light Buffy. My sun.” His voice faltered Spike wanting to tell her that he loved her but unable to say the words. He was unlovable and even if she did accept his declaration he deserved nothing in return. He was always better at communicating his feelings through actions anyway.

His chest heaved with fear as she remained silent before gasping in surprise as Buffy all but dragged him onto the bed. She threw him onto it, laughing mischievously as he landed in an undignified thump and then promptly settled herself atop his lap.

What a view.

Spike was spread out before her, the black T-shirt riding up invitingly and showing a pale expanse of muscle. His chest was well defined with every part stretched taunt and rippling. His body called to her with something so intimate that words were not needed. She knew that he cared for her and loved her even if he was too unsure to say it. His eyes betrayed every emotion. Buffy ground down into his lap, loving the feel of his arousal pressing against her.

There was no way to express the joy at knowing that he was hers. Buffy Summers has a man.

She could remember her godfather warning when young against male advances, saying how she should marry within the family. There was not many choices and Buffy had felt stifled and trapped. There were no males with any prospects except a life spent in service to her father and thus no loyalty to her beyond the notion of wife and the responsibility of bearing their young.

Buffy snorted in anger at the thought. She may have wanted the normal life with its white picket fence, and 2.5 kids but she also wanted commitment and someone who loved her. A smile bloomed as Buffy felt Spike’s hand slide over her thigh and caress her knee.

Spike loved her. Though he doesn’t know anything about Hank or anything to do with Masters… The thought quickly dampened her mood. Buffy had no idea how Spike would react to the news and could only see it ending badly. Still she hid it, hoping vainly that Joyce would keep quiet. Everything would only escalate if they found out about her background.

“You still here with me pet?”

Buffy fastened a large smile onto her face, pulling off her top in a brave gesture and submitting herself to Spike’s ministrations.

He would help her forget.

The Brit frowned for a moment before latching on to a nipple through the lace material of her bra and suckling in pleasure. Alcohol can be buggered. I’m never getting pissed again and missing out on this. He sat up, one nimble hand flicking open the catch and tossing away the offending garment to the furry sweater. He was going to burn the bloody thing later when she was sleeping. His thoughts quickly disintegrated into nothing as Buffy’s chest became his sole focus. He licked a path between her breasts, laving each globe and delighting in the way her breathy moans filled the room. His shirt was becoming confining and he ripped it off, reaching to undo his belt buckle and then the zipper. They both groaned when he was released, her small hand wrapping around his cock and pumping it in a steady motion. Spike felt his eyes roll into the back of his head, as her pressure increased and nearly shouted his pleasure to the entire house when Buffy innocently licked the tip.

“Please do that again…. luv, Buffy, I’m begging you…” He clapped a hand over his mouth as her lips fully encircled the head of his shaft, nibbling and licking in a fashion that was guaranteed to leave him erupting early. Her mouth was hotter than anything else imaginable, burning him and making Spike all that more determined to make this time count.

His fingers crept into her hair, loving the feel of the soft locks as she rose her head to look at him.

“Am I doing something wrong?” she asked nervously. Her lips, rosy and plush had formed into a small pout which only made Spike groan more. This girl was going to be the death of him.

“Of course not pet. I just… I need to be inside you.” Spike reached forward, sliding off her pants and underwear and then raising her above his cock. He was desperate to be connected to her and sighed loudly when she sank down.

It was nothing like what she had ever imagined. Every part of her felt full, his cock filling every space and causing a warm feeling to race through her belly. She wasn’t sure that she ever wanted to move and let him go. Buffy stretched, squeezing her inner muscles and feeling a rush fill her as Spike shuddered in abandon. She was in complete control with his body laid out before her like a decadent painting, except for the constant rising of his chest.

Buffy couldn’t help the possessive thought which raced through her head. Mine.

Her hips rose slowly, loving the feel of him sliding in and out of her passage. He was incredibly large, stretching her in an almost painful way. She wouldn’t change anything however. Buffy moaned loudly as Spike moved his body in encouragement, hands playing with her breasts and teasing her nipples. She leant forward, licking his chest and biting at his neck.

“Gods luv, that’s perfect.”

His voice was a deep rumble, sexy and baritone as he gasped with each descent. Spike pushed invitingly back, harsh breaths becoming louder when Buffy increased the pace.

Neither could help themselves from going faster, the slapping sounds of their bodies meeting leading to a trembling which coursed through her body.

“Spike…. I’m…..”

The Brit nodded, thrusting harder and moving one finger to pinch her clit.

Buffy erupted a moment later, screaming out her release in abandon.

Spike continued to plunge himself into her depths, letting her orgasm flow through them and gasping as her inner muscles clamped down. He would never be able to touch another woman after feeling this.

He came a minute later unable to hold back as Buffy all but strangled his cock. He pumped into her three times, wrapping his arms around her slumped body in satisfaction as they both gasped for air. Her hand, covered in sweat, tangled with his, the fingers interlocking as he kissed her forehead.

“Buffy…”

The petite blond looked up, pressing a finger against his swollen lips. Spike looked incredibly scared and also in a hilarious contradiction sated. He loves me. I know he does. She smiled, pushing her lips against his in a chaste kiss. “I know Spike, I love you too.”

Spike had woken several hours later with Buffy sound asleep on his chest, snoring lightly. Her hair flowed down over their bodies, covering his side and tickling it as she breathed. The bleached blond took in the sight before him, grinning with self satisfaction. We didn’t even get under the covers.
He brushed a knuckle down her spine, loving the way she curled and nuzzled her head against his chest. Hopefully everything would go to plan tonight and he’d have many more opportunities to explore her. Spike knew without a doubt that Buffy was the only woman he would ever be interested in. Now I just have to keep that bloody pillock Jacob away from her thought Spike with frustration. If it wasn’t Riley or Angel then there was always another guy just waiting to have their way with her. But then I may be wrong… Spike had tried to keep himself even after being inducted, trusting no one and certainly not becoming buddies with any of the more quiet men. They were guaranteed by their own unwillingness to participate as loose canons. Spike himself didn’t bother wondering what they were up to as long as it kept far away from his business and him but this Jacob… Spike was going to be forced to look into the git’s background. Angelus doesn’t trust him. That’s always a sure sign of trouble.

It was a well known fact throughout LA that Aureli was both an indomitable leader and an incredibly suspicious one, trusting very few into his confidences and even then holding them at arm’s length. Spike was the only man he let be involved in decisions, perhaps in a move to stave a takeover and everyone knew how strained their relationship was. When the poofter was tiptoeing and giving Jacob the death glare then you definitely knew something was up.

Either that or Peaches fancied the git.

Spike shuddered. There was no way he would let his thoughts travel any further down the path which ultimately led to images of the great poof acting romantic. He pitied any girl unlucky enough to be caught in such an embrace.

Trying to not wake her, Spike gently pushed Buffy off of his chest and onto the bed. Her arms immediately grabbed a pillow, strangling it in a tight embrace. He had noticed an odd pink pig stuffed amongst her duffel bag earlier and went to grab it. It was rather beaten, the fur dirty with odd spots. Spike turned it over, unable to hold back the smirk when he read the childish writing. “Well Mr. Gordo. How about I leave you with my girl?” He set the pig down beside her head. glad that she was asleep. He still remembered all too well her anger when he had mentioned the activity before.

It was something that she was going to be forced to get used to. There was no way that Spike could stop being involved in gang activities. It was part of his blood.

He quickly pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, the duster draping his form as he stalked out of the room. He shut the door slowly, sighing with relief as he heard the gentle click and then flew downstairs.

Angel would be waiting.

***
Riley kept making sounds in the back seat. They had gagged him earlier, hoping to teach the Captain a lesson but it only made him protest more.

Gunn was close to shooting him.

The large and well muscled African American sat in the front seat of a dull grey van, gritting his teeth. He was trying hard to think about positively anything besides his bespectacled companion and the lump they had been forced to drag along. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel odd staccato beats.

They had been sitting in the same spot for over an hour.

The street before them looked inconspicuous, odd light of blue and red from flashing neon the only real factor that made it stand out. It remained free of traffic besides shadowy forms of beggars and thieves which commonly traversed Sunnydale, looking for money. Gunn’s mouth, which most often was turned into a handsome smile was set in a grimace. They had all been dragged out of various activities to the downtown area, Angel intent on picking up Parker’s weapon drop.
And I was finally getting somewhere with Fred too thought Gunn ruefully. He was completely in enamored with the mousy looking girl and had been earlier very close to securing her acceptance of his advances. She was small and thin, with soft rounded curves that made her appear like a doll. Gunn thought Fred was perfect and unfortunately so did Wesley.

Gunn’s companion sat as close to the door as possible, staring down at the barrel of his gun. His glasses were made of thin wire, the lenses glinting in alternating shades of red and blue from the lights. He wore ragged jeans and a button down shirt, the sleeves cut off so as not to interfere. Dull brown hair stuck out at odd angles, giving him a rebellious appearance.

Angel had met the Englishman maybe six months before and immediately accepted him, despite his awful desire to wear tweed. It had been Fred who had changed Wesley into another man, one dark enough to not only butcher a girl but then laugh about it.

Parker had been very disappointed when Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Price declined the Initiative’s offer and joined Aurelius.

Gunn even more so. It would have been the perfect chance to kill the prick.

Despite this utter hatred between the two they were often paired to show a unified front to the other gangs. Angel had reasoned that if two of his best fighters could get along whilst still trailing after the same girl then he only looked that much more controlling. Both of the men were starting to wonder whether it would be all that terrible to simply kill each other. After all Angel’s reputation could sustain some damage… Couldn’t it?

Gunn fought the urge to bash his head against the side window, knowing it would attract attention.

It was another hour before the signal came through.

Gunn jumped, rocking the car slightly as his partner, slid his gun into the holster at his hip. They both watched the mobile as it moved along his lap, vibrating and creating a dull buzzing sound. Both immediately opened the car doors, stepping out with audible sighs of relief. Gunn had been certain that Wes was contemplating ways to blow his brains out for the last one hundred and twenty minutes. Now some other unfortunate would have to stare down his partner’s bullet.

Gunn didn’t bother to lock the van; completely certain that no one would dare touch the vehicle if they valued their life. The smaller form of Wesley was already crossing the street, looking neither left nor right as he followed the hulking form of Angel. Their leader carried no weapon but instead wore a bullet proof vest underneath his heavy leather jacket. The leader traditionally took no ammunition as a sign of good will but now they were busting up a business deal.

Gunn crossed himself before hurriedly running into the abandoned building. They were going to need all the help they could get if Spike saw Parker.

***
There was something purely delicious in entering the rival gang’s home, even if you regularly visited it for a quick fuck. Faith rapped her hand on the heavy door, noticing that they had changed the locks since Angel last let her in. Must be feeling a little paranoid. Her eyes, a dark brown which was lost in the heavy mascara flashed with delight as a weedy little man opened the door a second later and let her in.

She barely acknowledged him, muttering a ‘thanks Jonathon’ before swaying her leather clad ass up the staircase. Faith had gotten dressed up for this event, wanting to make the worst impression possible. Her top seemed to be made out of a scrap of cloth, wound around her torso and threatening to fall off at any moment. It had been chosen by Parker when they engaged in one of their darker sessions of sex. He said it made her look like a whore.

Faith did not bother to hide the wide grin which flooded her face, black, shining lips coated with lipstick and hopefully looking completely edible.

Most of the Initiative was still at home, hanging out at the ‘base’ and getting pissed off of their heads. It hadn’t taken much to slip out through a side door and make her way to one of Parker’s vehicle. She’d dumped the convertible about two blocks away from Crawford St., intent on blaming it on one of the newbies or Drusilla and hiked over to the mansion. Faith was glad that her feet were only slightly blistered from her three inch heels.

She certainly hoped Spike appreciated the effort.

Parker had come home, screaming with his foot half shot open not more than a week ago. It seemed that bleached boy had not taken kindly to him saying hello to Miss. Sunshine and in true Spike fashion started another mini war with her leader and lover. Faith shuddered at the thought. She had never had the true parenting that would halt such a leap into gang life. Instead her step daddy had made it his duty to prepare her for a life of whoring and stealing. He’d arranged for her to start stripping and then taken her wages, making himself a far happier and richer pig whilst she had to sleep to get fed. Faith felt some small sense of gratitude to Parker for nailing her ‘daddy’, she had definitely gained weight after it wasn’t all spent on booze and porn mags. The day that Parker had first come to town was burned into her memory.

He’d been sitting in the front row, a warm smile and bright eyes making Faith swing her hips just that little bit closer. He didn’t look like he would hurt her and by the make of his clothes was not a poor college student either. She’d been wearing a wig that night, bright pink and after finishing her number went the usual rounds looking for tips and offering lap dances.

Parker had accepted.

He’d settled her atop him, grinding into her with barely disguised lust and whispered dirty suggestions into her ear. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Faith was truly shocked. Her things had brushed against the handle of a knife, making her amazement quickly turn to fear and she’d tried desperately to push herself away from him.

It hadn’t worked.

Parker had only gripped her closer, his murmurings taking a darker tone as he ripped away her wig. Faith’s thick brunette hair had been exposed, falling down her back and covering their faces when Parker forced his tongue down her throat. She’d been one of his girls ever since.

Faith, scared and trembling had been released half an hour later and rushed to the back where the other girls informed her of her fate. Parker had taken control of the club and several others and now officially owned it and the girls.

The brunette’s face fell for a moment as she remembered the hot tears which had washed her mascara down her cheeks. She’d been passed from the control of one man to another with only sex remaining the constant. Perhaps it had forced her into this new mould of woman: dangerous, promiscuous and determined to succeed, no matter the cost.

In hindsight Faith could say that she rather liked the transformation.

She’d never expected an actual relationship, their ‘trysts’ instead dissolving into a meaningless series of sex and punishment which frankly was something she was used to, but Parker’s addition of extra partners had completely thrown her. It appeared all too soon that Abrams was not happy with just her. He’d taken Spike’s nutty girlfriend and added her to the mix. Faith was certain that the Brit would not be happy to learn that she knew ‘princess’s’ body just as well as him.

Now there was a new girl on the block, making the brunette fairly uncertain of her place. It had always been about Dru and her for so long in the Initiative that the other men left them alone but this Buffy Summers… Faith was becoming increasingly anxious that Parker would forget all about them in pursuit of the little ball of sunshine.

Which was why Faith was at the house in the first place. She had decided quite emphatically that B needed to learn the ropes exceptionally quickly if she didn’t want to cause a whole new set of issues within the relatively unstable gang relations. And who was person to teach her if not Faith? She already had an understanding with Darla about Aureli and perhaps could swindle her way into one with Buffy. Faith would take Spike anyway she could have him. The brunette didn’t want to think what would happen to her if Parker ever found out.

She pushed against Spike’s door gently, frowning when it was locked. Faith hadn’t expected him to be so cautious in his own territory but maybe things were less than peachy with Peaches. Faith laughed at her own joke, flicking out a set of keys, identical to the ones Angel carried. No one had ever said there weren’t perks for sleeping with the brooding wonder.

Faith got the right key into the lock, smiling as it clicked open. Now to see about this ‘sunshine’.

***
The floor was a dirty concrete floor, covered with trash and stinking of vomit. Angel looked at it with determination, often finding himself staring downwards during contemplation. It was as though by seeing where his feet were, both physically and metaphorically, he could center himself in a world that changed like the tide. The earth was a constant. Angel grimaced, starting to agree with the constant gibes Spike gave him for brooding too much. The stress was definitely getting to him.

The weapon chests sat off to his left, a peevish diminutive man glaring at Wesley who stood close to him. Willy was not happy to be involved in this deal at all and certainly wasn’t happy to see the sinister British man leaning so close to him. He was going to open a bar up after this and forget trying to deal. Maybe he’d live longer then. Sweat beaded down his forehead as the taller man, lanky with wiry muscles cast him a vicious grin. The bar was looking more inviting with every passing moment.

Angel’s other men were arranged around the room in various locations. Six were positioned up above on the rafters, with Gunn sitting idly against the wall directly behind him. All were geared for a confrontation and sent him smiles of anticipation. They were desperate to engage in bloodshed with the Initiative and had been pushing for a while. It only made Angel more anxious.

I need to let the boys out more.

He was just about to resume his floor metaphor when the heavy thud of footsteps announced Parker’s arrival. A pair of heavy muscled men entered in front of him, casting looks back at their leader to make sure he didn’t need assistance. They would be punished back at the house for helping him to walk but that would be nothing compared to the pain they’d endure if he fell to the ground. They each held a rifle and shouldered them at the sight of Angel’s gang. They were far less interested in getting into a fight.

Angel brushed his hair back in an attempt to hold back the laughter at Parker’s limping form. They were going to have a party for Spike’s decision when they arrived back at the house. He bit his lip, cheeks blooming out when the other gang leader stumbled, his foot swathed in bandages.

Utter silence held in the room for only a minute before the Aurelius’ burst out laughing.

In between fits of giggles, Angel managed to speak, his eyes twinkling with merriment. “How-“ Angel dissolved into a set of barking laughs – “are you holding up?”

Abrams, slightly thinner than usual and hunching did not look amused. “Just shut the fuck up Aureli.” His voice was hoarse and vicious, under strain from screaming as Faith had dug the bullet out. It had hurt like nothing else, excluding Spike’s beating on that hill and he was desperate for retribution. He had been taken aback at the sight of Angel but was trying to hide it. If Angel’s here then that means his bitch Spike is too.

His fingers twitched, itching to reach the semi automatic at his waist. It would be only slightly difficult to shoot the hulking Neanderthal but then he’d have to deal with Masters. Parker was not that stupid.

Instead of asking Angel why he was there, Parker instead asked about Spike, spitting the Brit’s name out as though it was a disease. Something had gone wrong with Finn and his plan to grab the bitch Summers from the home. Abrams was positive that the bleached menace had managed to stop it.

Angel held his leather jacket wide open, a silent message to everyone in the room that he was unarmed. Parker’s movements had suddenly put everyone on edge which could easily disintegrate into mindless shooting. When word got back to LA, Angel wanted it known that Abrams had started it. He smiled at Parker’s question, catching the sight of white hair behind the gang leader. “Spike’s right here.” He pointed to his second in command, chuckling as Spike gave them a cheeky wave. “He’s been telling me that you two had a minor disagreement and in a terrible accident shot you in the foot.”

Parker spluttered, calm façade completely gone. “HOW DARE YOU! I’M SO GOING TO-“

Spike raised an eyebrow, his expression one of disdain. “You’ll do what exactly? Masters has already informed you that this pickup is now ours, you’re outnumbered and a bloody cripple to boot.” He pulled the smoldering cigarette from his mouth, dropping it to the ground and snuffing it out with his boots. “As far as I can see Parker , you’re buggered.”

Spike winked at Angel, noticing that Gunn and three other men were slowly taking away the weapons and shoving them out through a wheel. They had a driver waiting on the other side with a loading tray specifically for this purpose. He would only have to distract them for a couple of minutes and then it would be far harder to take the weapons back. That and the fact that Spike was the ultimate at gibes and name calling. He didn’t bother hiding his grin, knowing that Parker was likely to explode at his gift.

Waving his hand at the rival leader’s muscle dismissively, Spike walked back around the wall. Everyone listened with mixed feelings of excitement and dread as Spike dragged Riley’s bound form into Parker’s sight.

The jovial mood which existed ended instantly, a deadly air replacing it.

Resting his boot on Finn’s stomach, Spike pushed down, never taking his eyes off Parker. “We found him with his hands wrapped around my girl and would of killed him except that we know you have a particular fondness for punishing your own.” His azure eyes, ice cold, didn’t blink as Riley’s muffled screams became more pronounced. “Angel was all for it and cut him up just to show you how a real man does it.” The snap of Riley’s rib went unnoticed by Abrams, the rival leader not backing down and instead staring the Brit straight in the eyes. “Now I know you have a yearning for my women”, drawled Spike gruffly, “but I think you need to remember that Buffy is mine.” He pulled Finn up by his hair, pointing the mangled mess that was his broken and splintered nose. “I shot you in the foot before Parker, next time I’ll just sodding kill you and take my chances with Masters.”

Spike threw Riley back to the ground, backing away as he caught Angel’s signal to leave. “I’d keep away from me and mine, if you know what’s good for you pillock. Either that or you’ll find out what it’s like to be an Aurelius bitch.”

The flare of his duster, flew behind him tauntingly as Spike calmly, stalked out of the room.

They’d look for Riley’s body in a week.

There was someone else in the room.

Buffy rolled onto her back, knocking aside Mr. Gordo in her haste to get up. The sight which greeted her, made the petite blond wish she had never decided to look.

At the foot of the bed sat a voluptuous brunette, wearing what could possibly be the tightest leather pants in existence. They clung to every inch of her, making a squeaking sound that Buffy found somewhat humorous given their purpose. Her hazel eyes widened as she stared at the woman’s top. More like piece of cloth. It was wrapped around her breasts and barely held them there, making Buffy feel like she should avert her eyes. The blond was certain that if this stranger breathed her ‘top’ would completely fall off.

Somehow Buffy got the feeling that such a scenario would not bother the brunette.

“So you’re Buffy huh?” The woman’s eyes, shadowed by mascara had crinkled as though in laughter. Her hand still rested on the bed spread, long red nails caressing it softly.

“Yes. WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” Buffy sat up fully, clutching the sheet to her bare form, glaring at her intruder with undisguised rage. She could only think of two reasons why such a woman would appear in her room and neither were particularly pleasant. Buffy cast a glance at the floor, vainly searching for her shirt which was crumpled amongst the beloved fuzzy sweater. The brunette watched her teasingly, gesturing to the pile of clothes and mouthing ‘I’ll wait.’

Buffy took the opportunity, grabbing the orange sweater and pulling it on as quickly as possible. It itched against her bare skin but provided enough cover, brushing along her mid thigh. She was going to buy at least five more of the awful garments when this ordeal was over.

Climbing out of bed, Buffy stretched her legs, noting with confusion that the woman’s eyes flowed up and down her body continuously. Is she checking me out?

Buffy shook her head in denial, brushing away the thought as ludicrous. She turned to the stranger, ready to order her out when the brunette erupted into a throaty laugh. Large, plush lips covered in black lipstick gasped for air as the woman’s breasts teetered within the confines of the scrap of cloth. Buffy tapped her foot impatiently intent on lending the skank a shirt if she didn’t leave in the next few minutes. She settled herself on the bed when the woman’s laughs did not halt, wondering idly if she could kick the brunette’s shins without hurting her feet.

Buffy decided that even if it did, she was willing to bear the pain.

It took several minutes before Faith had control of her laughter, clutching her sides as she watched Spike’s girl. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen and looked far too pure for the Brit by a long shot. A slightly upturned nose sat just above plush pink lips, her eyes being a hazel colour which complimented her blond hair. Buffy was as different from Drusilla as you could get: small and petite whereas Drusilla remained tall and anorexic. Faith smirked at the thought. It was just like Spike to go in the complete opposite direction. The Brit probably thought that there would be no at all similarities between them. Too bad that he didn’t have Faith’s contacts or her incredible ability to change the mind of even the most loyal. Faith smirked, licking her lips. I’m going to have fun with this one.

Despite their opposite features, both women bore the same look of strength, Dru’s marred by insanity and this one’s by a fear of the past. The brunette couldn’t resist another giggle escaping her mouth at the thought. If Dru’s right then B will have some surprises for us all. She reached her hand out to Buffy, shaking it and then standing with a sigh. Parker would be arriving home soon and she still had to see Angel. Hopefully that prom queen isn’t here, or we’ll have to borrow someone else’s room.

She ducked as a pillow smashed into the wall behind her. “Whoa! Cool it B!” She held up her hands in a signal of surrender as she saw the woman grab a cushion. Faith would have to talk or suffer getting her hair ruined. Not an option when trying to manipulate the grand poofter. Keeping her hands high the brunette grinned disarmingly. “My name’s Faith. I’m an acquaintance of Spike’s.”

Buffy, angry and ready to start throttling this ‘Faith’ did not relinquish her hold on the pillow. “And?”

“Just thought I should introduce myself seeing as we share the same company” she said with a smirk. Buffy wanted to growl at her as Faith lowered her hands. There can’t be anything good about Spike knowing someone like this.

“How come I’ve never seen you here?”

“I belong to the Initiative and sell secrets to the Aurelius boys” answered Faith bluntly. “Parker normally keeps track of where I go so I’m not around much.” She ignored Buffy’s amazed expression and instead twirled, admiring the room. It was spacious and not covered in posters of the Sex Pistols and Kinks like she had imagined. Spike had always maintained a Big Bad persona with her and to see such normality was a revelation. If possible, Faith fell for him even more.

“That still doesn’t fully explain why you’re here.” Buffy was growing more and more uneasy as this conversation progressed. Faith kept staring at their room with a longing expression, the heavy makeup barely betraying the emotion. There was a desperate tone in her voice, causing the petite blond to slowly stand. If this woman had any affection for Spike then she wanted to know. Now.

Buffy strode up to the woman, halting her examination with a hand. It was a light touch however Faith jumped.

“I want answers” she said quietly. Her grip tightened, hard enough to cause a bruise if Faith struggled. Buffy had decided that enough was enough. Faith may be forced to use her sexuality to intimidate or entice but she had more character. More trust of her abilities and most definately more clothes!

Faith pushed her hand away, anger flashing in what had been before smug brown eyes. “So that’s the way it is! Fine then B! I’m here about your man.” Faith’s hips jutted forward at the mention of Spike. “I thought that he would be alone tonight and that we could resume our relationship…” She smiled wickedly at Buffy’s shocked gasp. Works every time.

“I presume that he hasn’t mentioned me then." Faith wanted to giggle at the opportunity. If Spike had only mentioned her then the short blond would have kicked Faith out on her ass instantly. Stupid men.

Buffy, oblivious to the brunette's glee, shook her head. All she could think about was why Spike had not told her. It stunk of betrayal and her father, making her question her trust of the Brit completely. How could I have been so stupid? As if a woman dressed like her and claiming to be friends with Spike could be platonic. Her eyes narrowed at the keys which sat on the bed spread. He’s even given her a way to get into the room!

Suddenly Faith was in her face, lips so close that if she moved just an inch more they’d be kissing. Her hot breath, the smell of cigarettes and cocktail flew over Buffy making her want to gag.

“Since ole Spikey hasn’t told you I guess it probably is my duty.” Faith pressed her chest against the petite blonde’s, moving her mouth to Buffy’s ear lobe. It was delicious to hear the quick breathes which whispered out of the petite blond's frame. God I love doing this. “Every time the bleach boy had trouble sleeping he’s been down to the Bronze looking for company and you know what B I give it to him.” Faith's voice didn’t even tremor at the vicious lie, knowing that if everything worked out, she would be the head mistress of a new improved gang, Angel and Parker forgotten and dead. She dreamt about it so often that she could already see it. All I have to do is drive a stake between Spike and Miss. Sunshine and half the battle is already won. Faith’s tongue darted out to lick the outer shell of Buffy’s ear, stilling her hands when they moved to shove her away. She knew that she wouldn’t protest if Parker insisted that they bring B into their bed. The woman was so pure that it would be a pleasure to corrupt her.

“I’m always going to be the woman in Spike’s life” she pronounced. “I’m the only one who could ride him at a gallop until his legs buckled and his eyes rolled up.” She smirked, brushing her hand down Buffy’s side. “I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of B. I could and have squeezed your man until he popped like warm champagne, and you know what?”

Faith paused, delighting in the sight of tears as Buffy remained silent, her hands clenching in anger. The girl is making this far too easy.

“He begged me to hurt him just a little bit more.” Faith let go of Buffy, backing up quickly to the door. Her smile, twisted with a terrible sense of retribution, only grew wider as Buffy stood there fuming.

“I doubt you could say the same.”

Faith shut the door with a loud slam, patting herself on the back for a job well done. She leaned against the door and began to snigger at the soft sobs which echoed through.

Plan accomplished.

Buffy stared at the door, thoughts jumping haphazardly over each other as her brain tried to function. She couldn’t believe it.

Or could she?

Spike didn’t reveal much concerning himself, always keeping to the edges of the Aurelius gang. Anything that the school did know about him was already well known and details he had bragged aloud to everyone.

And they were never about women.

The only girl who had said she knew anything was Harmony and Buffy thought she was an absolute ditz. When your entire time was spent on the phone to other gossip queens then there wasn’t much you knew, beyond who was kissing who of course.

The fact was that the gang, and particularly Spike kept things hidden. Only by joining would it be possible to even listen to some of their conversations and even then individuals weren’t always trusted.

Spike’s reputation was mostly based on who he had beaten up, his snark and swagger and the Big Bad persona. Many said that his clothes were fashioned on Sid Vicious, but beyond the basics he was an enigma. All Buffy could recall when talking to Willow about the Brit was that he hardly ever came to class, was labeled as a rebel and overall remained aloof, snarky comments being his main form of conversation. She never saw him with any girls that looked serious and for all the parading of Angel’s harem never attempted to gather his own flock.

Buffy felt her insides swirl as she considered her relationship before she had been inducted. She knew nothing about him.

Still don’t.

Willow, despite being a geek, had made it her business to know the leaders, jocks and bullies of the school, if only to avoid them. She saw it as a method of self preservation after Larry had specifically targeted her for one of his infamous pranks.

Buffy sighed, wondering whether everything would have been different, if she never caught that first glimpse of him.

It was Willow who had pointed him out, telling Buffy about Spike, when Cordelia started to meet Angel for ‘practice’. The Brit had been rude and dismissive of the prom queen, making Cordelia turn to her friends for a long bitch session. Due to this, Willow now knew a whole alphabet of swear words and had on occasion stuttered them during a fit of rage. Buffy had caught the red head trying to bash it out of her head on the desks during English after one incident with Larry in the cafeteria.

Thus it was that Buffy knew of Spike in a general way, uttering a conciliatory ‘the bastard’ comment when ever Cordelia mentioned him. She’d wanted nothing more to do with men or their issues ever again, hating all males for the sins of her father.

Spike completely changed that.

His absence from school for two months had left most of Sunnydale suspicious, wondering as to the state of the Aurelius gang and a power shift. Spike was presumed dead by some before it was announced by Angel that he had gone to hospital. The brooding man had grown sick of everyone gossiping about it and nearly ripped Andrew's throat out when the geek asked to hold a seance for Spike's departed soul. The cafeteria had laughed as he did it.

Buffy had been fairly oblivious to the rumors or the growing tensions against the Initiative. Her own family life had been in the midst of huge turmoil. Hank had wanted to see her again, claiming the need for connection and of course Joyce was furious. Buffy’s mother had desired the attention for herself, unconcerned to the fact that her daughter wanted nothing to do with the man. She had never recognised the fear which coated Buffy’s eyes at the mention of Hank or anything to do with LA. And even if she did it wouldn’t have made a difference. Joyce simply didn’t care.

The day that Spike came back with six brand new stitches in his eyebrow, had been the first time that Buffy really saw him. Fell in love with him. The doors to the hallway had smashed open, Angel striding in with a smug expression. He wore loose clothing so as to hide his weapon, with the traditional leather jacket on one arm. Cordelia, carrying a pink designer hand bag had been plastered onto his other side, complaining about something when Buffy caught her eye. The brunette merely sniffed at them, ignoring Willow who naively had waved. She’d rejected them just the week before to become an official kept woman of the gang leader.

It would take just another fortnight before she rang Buffy, crying her eyes out on the phone.

A flood of people had ensued after them, some like Andrew believing that if they walked in with the gang, there would be less to fear from their tormentors. It didn’t matter that most of their bullies were part of the group that they followed after. It had sickened Buffy seeing how they scurried along in Angel’s wake, not catching the disdainful sneers and simpering to the hulking man. He was someone they could at least talk to and know the end result.

Spike on the other hand was a complete mystery.

The Brit had calmly flicked his Zippo lighter, a small flame appearing and being the primary thing she focused on. A cigarette had dangled from his lips with the Marlboro pack stuffed into the back of tight black Levis. Buffy’s lips parted at the sight. He had oozed sensuality just lighting the cancer stick, keeping his eyes on the ground as though traversing a tightrope. The heavy leather duster had draped over his frame, hiding lithe muscles and a shining semi automatic.

Buffy could remember Willow commenting on Cordelia’s behaviour, nodding along without truly listening. As Spike had blown the smoke out of his mouth, she had caught his eyes and been lost.

The twin orbs swirled with emotion, uncommon in a man from his position. Hatred, passion and most of all energy flowed through them, locking Buffy into a state of amazement. They were the color of ice, pure, objective and entrancing. She wouldn’t have noticed a clown if it had dunked her in water, she was so captivated.

Her hands had unconsciously lifted to her shirt, smoothing it down in an attempt to be more presentable. All Buffy could see was him. Ignoring the warnings she could feel her heart giving her.

Spike was not the happily ever after variety. Trusting him as she had her godfather would end in the same result, if not worse.

Buffy had disregarded the signs.

Now she wondered whether it had been a mistake.

***

The bouncing was starting to drive him crazy.

Angel glared into the back of the van where Spike, full of energy, was hopping on his seat. The Brit had been unable to contain his vigor after the ‘meeting’ with Parker. Normally it would have ended in a fight of some kind, with Angel challenging the rival leader or having a pair of men smash each other with their fists until one was out cold. It was a normal procedure after the Master had admonished them for the last gang war.

Angel stretched, the scars from his eight lashes growing taunt. He’d hate to see what the gang lord would do if they really fucked up. The brunette could remember quite well the old man’s speech on how he was ‘going easy on them.’ The only retribution was that Parker had received the same. And screamed louder thought Angel with a dark smile. Spike had nearly killed the man a couple of days before and thus was not quite ready for the Master’s verdict.

Served him right.

Angel glared at the bleached blond through the mirror, surprised that a guy who sang ‘Rebel Yell’ at karaoke bars could be the same one who killed petty thieves and gossipers. It was a complete contradiction.

Perhaps I should be more surprised that he didn’t touch Parker. Angel knew that the Brit had been desperate for a ‘spot of bloodshed’. Hell they had all been raring for it. The brunette could see Wesley sitting in the passenger seat from the corner of his eye, staring longingly at his gun. They like it too much. The brunette did not investigate his own desires or the way his adrenalin rushed as he’d cut up the farm boy. He figured that for being involved as long as he has it was natural to adjust to the thrill of seeing blood spatter from a wound. At least that’s what he told himself. Angel didn’t want to think of Cordelia’s horrified look or the way she had slipped away into their room, locking the door behind her. He hadn’t bothered to talk to her, knowing it was useless. Besides thought Angel with a grin, I can always get another one. He pressed his foot down on the gas, loving the feeling of speeding past a patrolling cop car and knowing they couldn’t touch him. He didn’t understand how Cordelia could call it an evil business when there were perks like this.

Spike had finally stopped bouncing and instead now sat on his hands. His blue eyes, electric blue with fervor glowed, glancing at Gunn every odd minute. It seemed that the muscled street fighter couldn’t stand the movement either and had finally said something. The four men remained quiet, only Spike’s fidgeting breaking the silence. The other members were in various cars, Jacob driving a modest sedan about 3 miles behind.

Angel had wanted to keep the Irishman out of their affairs, but knew that it was impossible. There was no good explanation readily available. Plus there was the fact that he had the Master’s ear. Anything that went wrong would be known quickly and dealt with just as fast. The old man’s power was astonishing.

Gunn’s voice from the back broke through his thoughts.

“So are you hitting that blond of yours yet?”

Spike slipped his hands out from under his thighs slowly, not looking at his friend. The duster had been thrown somewhere amongst the piles of various equipment they carried around and Spike’s shoulders grew tight.

Angel sighed. Wrong question to ask Gunn.

Spike only reiterated the brunette’s thoughts, cracking his neck and staring ahead. “What does it have to do with you?”

Gunn smiled disarmingly, scooting away from the smaller man. He had seen what Spike could do when angry and wanted to keep his arms unbroken. The Brit was known for getting a little bit too enthusiastic in his retribution.

Practically all of them were.

“I was just asking man.” The black man held his hands up in a sign of surrender. He could hear the soft laughter coming from Wesley and decided that if he got the chance he would shoot the prick. Dark brown eyes glanced at the bleached blond, hoping that he was somewhat calmer. Gunn wanted to scream in frustration when he saw the Brit’s foot tapping erratically on the floor. It was the only body part that wasn’t controlled and showed how much he still wanted to fight. Spike was incredibly tense.

“It doesn’t really matter anyway you know” said Gunn jovially. “She’s just a new piece of ass and it’ll fade. It always does.” He patted Spike’s shoulder in a friendly way, not noticing that it was like touching steel. “I don’t mind you getting all pissed Spike but you need to remember that women come and go. Messes with your head if you think of it any other way.” He flashed brilliant white teeth in a smile that he hoped would soothe the second in command. “It’s not like you love her anyway…” Gunn looked out the windshield, oblivious to the dead silence his statement had created.

Spike bit his lip, gnawing at it as the seconds ticked by. He wanted to open his mouth and contradict Gunn or agree but knew that he couldn’t. It just wasn’t possible. His eyes became frantic as Wesley slowly turned to face him, polishing his glasses before giving him a heavy stare.

They knew.

Angel slowly pressed his foot to the brake, wanting to scream with rage. I knew this would happen. I KNEW IT! He couldn’t help thinking that maybe he should have taken Summers for himself. Angel was positive that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall in love with her. The brunette resisted the urge to smash his fist through the windshield. Spike is going to ruin everything!

The van came to abrupt halt at that thought, nearly throwing Gunn from his seat.

“Hey Angel what gives-“

Angel pulled out a gun from beneath his seat, moving it quickly so that it pointed directly at Spike. “Shut it.”

The black man nodded, pressing his body so that it leaned against the door. He spied a look at Wesley who watched with rapt attention. Guy’s probably enjoying this shit. Gunn winced as he heard the safety clip on the gun click off.

Aureli was pissed.

Angel focused his attention on his wayward deputy, noting with despair the locked jaw which ticked in irritation and icy blue eyes. His face appeared made out of stone, hard, sharp cheekbones making a sharp contrast to the white hair. This is going to be difficult.

“Should I just shoot you?” he asked quietly. Angel kept his tone cold; knowing that they were all going to loose badly if the Brit did not give up on his emotions. They were dangerous.

Spike shrugged. “If you think it will change anything be my bloody guest.” The Brit kept his gaze locked with Angel’s. They had faced off before over a similar issue. Drusilla.

Angel had always believed that women meant trouble unless you controlled them. He called them vipers, telling all the men repeatedly that if they loved a woman to get rid of her as soon as possible. Anything else would lead to disaster. Spike had sat through many of those speeches, agreeing after his messy breakup and acting as a testimony for other members. Dru had ruined him, changed his character to one of incredible viciousness.

All the other men had to do was stare at him and know why it was that they had more than one girlfriend and never shared their secrets. He had been the epitome of all despair. For over a month he’d been absolutely bleedin’ blind caught in drunken binges that nearly destroyed his liver. Spike hadn’t done anything except wallow. He was all the encouragement they needed.

Angel had lauded the fact that Drusilla could turn him. Yet he’d also harped on for bloody hours about the opposite effects. Feelings were weaknesses; emotions were the difference between survival and a bullet through the head.

“Only the passion for the gun and fight is acceptable.”

A laughable quote except when Angel pounded it into your skull with a bat.

Some had been slightly disconcerted at this notion, but changed the tune quick enough. Angel had demonstrated his point with a nonconforming member, smashing the stupid git to the floor before busting his brains out onto cold cement.

Spike would be surprised if the poofter didn’t shoot him.

Despite his acceptance of some Angel’s views, the Brit had never gotten along with the wanker concerning women. And definitely not on how they should be treated. It was Spike’s job to deal with the prostitutes that they placed on the streets and in general issues with confidants or any other task. It’d been a unanimous decision for him to be placed as negotiator and also to care of their needs. Spike would have been surprised at the verdict, if not remembering his fellow Brit’s behaviour. Wesley had only acted as a supervisor for one day before killing a girl, saying that she was impure. Spike hadn’t said much to the pillock since.

Angel tolerated his soft spoken words or the indulgences he gave the whores if only to mock in front of others. But beyond that the brunette had drawn the line. After punching his face in for being cordial to Darla, Spike was assured to have a constant reminder if he didn’t keep distant and most importantly, hateful.

In Spike’s eyes, the git was petrified that he’d become involved with another manipulative bird and sow their ruin all over again. Everyone knew Parker couldn’t resist the temptation of fucking with him.

The only comfort Spike had was cold, knowing that he wasn’t the only one. Gunn and Wesley were constantly fighting over some bint named Fred. She never stayed with one of them for long, playing the two fools at Angel’s command. Spike couldn’t help chuckling at the twisted nature of it all. Poofter wants to make sure everyone is bleedin’ unhappy.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

Spike knew that inwardly the pillock was jealous… bloody well eaten alive at the thought that another could achieve some sort of real relationship when he himself was doomed to failure. Angel couldn’t love anyone. He just didn’t have it in him. The man had been broken by someone far stronger in mind before he’d ever come to Sunnyhell. Spike was certain that he didn’t want to meet the girl who’d done it.

No one knew much about Aureli’s early days. What had been left of his personality when Darla caught him in her net was a normal topic on a graveyard stakeout. But all could agree that there was definitely no true affection for any bird. Angel was a cold bastard.

Spike clenched his fists, trying to deter his thoughts from the barrel which faced him. He could smell the scent of fire and metal, and snorted at the irony of it. Before he met Buffy he would have gladly welcomed the opportunity to choose his own death and now that he could, he didn’t want it. All Spike wanted was her.

The Brit laughed at loud, uncaring of how Angel’s hand shook in rage.

“This is serious Will.”

Spike shook his head, gulping air down in large breaths. This is fucking hilarious. He started to speak before collapsing again into a fit of laughter.

Gunn and Wesley shared a look. The bleached blond had finally lost it.

“Buffy is not a girl you want to be involved with Spike.” Angel lowered the gun. He didn’t want to reveal what little information he had but if pressed he would. Spike needed to know the truth at some point. “She’s only going to fuck with your senses. Make you weak.” He spoke the words with contempt, affection for women did nothing for you when staring down at a crumpled body and knowing you had to do the final deed. “Before you know it, she’ll be asking you to leave and then what will happen?” Angel answered the question. “Another fucking Drusillaesque tragedy, that’s what! Buffy’s never been there for you when it-“

Spike reached for the brunette, intent on slamming his head into the seat. He didn’t care about the gun anymore. The git just thinks everything will go his fucking way.

He didn’t count on the fact that Gunn would grab him.

Angel immediately placed the gun against Spike’s temple, grinding the metal into his skin. “I wouldn’t try something like that Will” he said bitterly, “especially when you’re unarmed.”

Spike glared at them all, azure eyes flashing. His voice came out as a deep baritone growl, dark and heavy with intent. “I swear if you talk about her like that Angel, I’ll tear your bleeding head off and piss down your throat.”

“Such nasty words Spike. I almost think that your parents didn’t teach you any manners.” Angel smiled bitterly as Spike sought to throw Gunn’s leaden arms off him. “You’re going to regret going against me boy. I have your best interests at heart.”

“Bollocks!”

Angel ground the gun deeper into Spike’s skull. “I do Will. Buffy Summers is not who she seems. She’s going to make you into a toy. Someone who can't fight for fear that his woman will lock him out of the home. That's no kind of life Spike, and you know it."

He looked at Wesley and Gunn, each bearing an expression of shock. Never had they seen things go so far between the two. Angel nodded at them, knowing that word inevitably carry back to the gang unless he silenced them. The brunette motioned for Gunn to release Spike and then returned his gaze to the Brit.

Neither tore their gaze from the other as Angel placed the barrel next to his temple and pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

Awed Gunn, took the gun from his leader, sharing a look with Wesley as it passed. Both had been positive that Angel would be nothing more than a bloody mess rotting into the van. He pulled the trigger aiming at Wesley with a malicious grin and shot empty rounds.

Angel had been fucking with Spike the entire time.

Spike broke eye contact with Aureli for a moment, shuddering at the sight of Angel with a gun pressed against his head. The git knew exactly what would get to him. He barely registered the hard grip of Angel’s fingers in his shoulder.

The brunette sighed softly, digging deeper into his arm until Spike looked up. “I can learn to accept you caring Spike.” His voice was laden with misery, a small part still desiring Buffy for himself. Spike loving her completely made void any interest he had in her. Such a shame. “She’s already considered yours so nothing should change, but if it does you’ll hear about it.” He turned then, firing up the ignition. He knew Spike well enough to hear the silent agreement. The Brit could love her but if he started to show signs of weakness Angel would have to take care of him. Will already knew it, but it helped to show discipline in front of Gunn and Wesley. Angel fumbled with the radio, blasting it so as to avoid any awkward conversation.

Spike will see things my way.

Parker was absolutely fuming.

His foot throbbed with pain, making it that much more difficult to climb the stairs that lead to the ‘base’. One hand was clenched tightly around his gun. The metal dug into the flesh of his palm, causing slight indents and arousing stares from his minions. The brunette ignored it, thin lips pursing in anger.

He wasn’t sure what irked him more…

Spike standing within perfect range or the fact that Aureli had managed to completely take over his drop off without so much as a hitch. It was a nightmare for morale and weapon control.

I badly needed those guns. Tension had been rising for several months between the gangs, Masters increasingly pitting them against each other. Parker didn’t know what had prompted the old shriveled man to choose a favourite from him or Angel, but something was definitely going to happen. And soon.

The Master had contacted him just a few days before, wanting to make sure that Parker would be attending ‘the family reunion.’ He’d had to force himself not to gag as he answered back, simpering that ‘it would be a pleasure’ instead of the ‘fuck you’ that screamed through his thoughts. The elderly man was aged in his sixties, far too old in Parker’s opinion to be running the west coast and thus in desperate need of retirement. If Parker could gain Angel’s loyalty, or better yet off him and his bleached side kick then he would be able to challenge for control. Parker let a small smile cross his lips. I’d probably win.

The ‘base’ loomed in front of him, a concrete and steel fortress that went up four levels. They needed all the space possible, with some of Adam’s people regularly making the trip to ‘check up on things’. It didn’t irk Parker as much as many suspected but it was a problem now that Riley had fucked up… How was he going to explain the kid winding up in a dumpster to his freak of a brother?

Parker bashed his fist against the steel doors, feeling only slightly better at finally making his way to the entrance. Spike was going to be unable to scream by the time that Parker was finished with him.

But then he’d had the chance tonight and like an idiot not taken the opportunity.

Parker bit back the groan that threatened to escape as blood from the opened gun shot wound pooled in his shoe. He was only slightly better off than his lackey. Lindsay’s knee cap had nearly shattered completely and was confined to the bed until further notice. Parker was thinking that he might have to shoot him if the fool didn’t stop getting injured. Linds isn’t much use now anyway, with only one fucking hand.

The muted glow of the chandelier forced Parker to curse, the Initiative arranged in a semi circle around the heavy doors. The hallway was sparse, metal for everything being the only constant. Parker didn’t see the need for luxury. He was here to be a leader, not the keeper of children. He forced back a wave of disgust as the doors creaked behind him, locking in place.

They had been waiting.

Rolling his eyes, Parker flicked away the wave of dark brown hair which fell across his face. His skin was slightly tanned, green eyes darting over sharp features that to most seemed rather ordinary. He wasn’t ugly but neither was he striking.

That was until people took a closer look.

Parker Abrams, valedictorian of his grade, honored student in LA was also one of the most vicious men to ever come to Sunnydale. His reputation rivaled that of William the Bloody’s.

Spike’s face, cocky and self assured flashed in Parker’s mind. It would be a constant image for the next several nights. I was so close…

The Brit had always been a target for Abrams, some part of him instantly taking a dislike to the foreigner. Spike had the confidence and personality that he lacked, drawing people to him and eventually winning over the large Neanderthal Angel. No one had truly wanted to fuck with the bleached blond, an unconscious attitude exuding his frame.

A benefit definitely not given to Parker.

Abrams had been forced to cut his own way through the ranks, leaving a bloody trail behind him. His particular abilities with women were what had first earned him an appearance with the Master. It was why he had been given the whore houses in Sunnydale in the first place.

Hearing the wet sound of flesh slumping in blood, Parker scanned the faces. Where is she? Faith was his current favourite of the women, having the mental ability to nurse his wound when Drusilla would have simply sang songs over it. The pale brunette had become even madder than before, LSD and the drugs he supplied increasing the deterioration of her mind. Parker would have felt guilty if not for the insidious delight he gained, knowing that Spike would hear of her impending downfall. The bleached blond had loved her, perhaps still did and had kept her from things which Dru was keen to indulge in. Part of the reason she came to Parker was to ‘escape her bad dog and have some real fun.’

Glaring at the stunned expressions of his gang, Parker motioned for Warren. “Where’s Faith” he asked.

The geek stuttered, his smooth explanations failing. He’ll kill me if I don’t tell. “She went for a drive boss.”

Immediately warning bells rang in Parker’s mind. Faith had been told specifically not to leave the premises. He didn’t mention this to Warren, instead waving him away. Dru would have to suffice. “Get her back to the base now.”

He ignored Warren’s nod, traveling down the hall. Faith would pay for her absence when she returned home.

***

The house was full of noise, Jacob and the others having driven home during his ‘interrogation’ and alerting everyone to the success of their pickup. Just another excuse to get pissed thought Spike bitterly. Every room on the main floor was flooded with light, music creating a hazy background sound. The pale tones of the walls, garish with the chance to examine them, faded in and out with the shadows of people. Jacob had gotten home a significant time before them.

Spike slung the duster onto his shoulder, determined to go up the stairs and see Buffy. He had scanned the throng for her, finding no hint of long blond hair in the mix of what was mainly a black clothed gang. He couldn’t help part of him shake in rage at Angel’s words in the car. The pathetic sod thought that he would become weak? William the Bloody become a bleeding nancy boy? Spike snorted at the thought, shoving an inebriated member out of his path. The poofter didn’t know who he was dealing with if he thought that the Big Bad would loose his touch over a woman.

Spike ignored the small William part of him that suggested that it was inevitable. Ignoring things sometimes was better that admitting he could be a sappy git.

He moved to the staircase, stepping up as quick as possible to reach Buffy. He had hated to leave the petite blond after his first real time with her, sober and able to memorise every effulgent detail. Let’s hope she’s not right pissed with me. The Brit jumped up two steps, nearly falling backwards when a firm grip pulled on the back of his shirt.

“SPIKE!”

The bleached blond turned, raising an enquiring eyebrow at a very drunk Faith. The brunette had merely a cloth wrapped around her chest, beer stains on the front causing Spike to grimace. The girl had obviously been involved in the piss up. Every part of her clothing was tight and clutched at her frame but the effect was spoiled by her obvious intent. Spike looked her up and down, noting the way her hand had moved to clutch the front of his shirt. She’s either here for me or the wanker… He shook the thought away a moment later. Faith may want him but she would never be so bleeding blatant about it. At least not where other eyes and ears could comment… Spike was precautious after the Captain’s deception. Only people he could mouth off to were the poof and Buffy. Which reminded him, he needed to see his girl. Spike pried loose her fingers, mumbling that he would talk to her later and moved back up the stairs.

Again hands numb from vodka grasped at him, this time latching onto his pants. Bleeding hell. Spike whirled, catching Faith in his arms as she fell weakly into his arms. His azure eyes flashed with rage, not catching the glint of blond from the corner of the second floor.

***

Buffy watched as Spike held the voluptuous brunette in his arms, feeling her heart tear into pieces. She had heard the commotion from downstairs and just turned the corner, intent on looking for Spike… only to see him like this.

I guess she wasn’t lying.

The way Spike held her suggested more than a casual relationship, Buffy’s unknowing eyes not recognising Spike’s hesitation. The Brit stood with his back turned mainly towards her, the gleam of peroxide hair the main colour which stood out. Buffy was surprised that Faith had managed to keep the cloth over her breasts. Must have had practice.

She brushed the long hair out of her eyes, knowing that she needed to witness such a sight. This was just another wake up call that she’d futilely tried to ignore. A part of her had hoped that Spike would have at least told her about his past affairs, yet they had barely talked before everything progressed to such a stage. And you haven’t been forthcoming either thought Buffy, groaning at the thought of telling him anything about her previous life. It was hard enough exposing Joyce’s downfall and the petite blond knew that Parker would only use it against her. She didn’t completely trust Spike enough to give him even worse ammunition.

Somehow she could see that decision coming back to royally bite her on the ass.

Loose gold strands once again fell into her line of sight, Buffy sighing and allowing the heavy curtains of blond locks to hide her pain. She would have to go downstairs eventually, whether she liked it or not. It simply wasn’t possible to hide from Spike or anyone in this place forever. A shudder ripped through her as Faith trailed her hands down Spike’s sides. The woman was obviously smashed, eyes red from the huge amount of alcohol she had consumed. The petite blond felt only a small sense of comfort when Spike removed Faith’s hands, wrapping around her waist instead. He called something intelligible to another gang member, letting Faith be cradled into the black man’s arms.

Buffy took a deep breath, moving out into view of the ground floor. The desire to see Spike completely overcame her need for dignity, the small woman gathering her courage. The worst that could happen was that he kicked her out, kissing Faith and slamming the door in her face. Buffy rolled her eyes at the thought. Perfect way to make yourself even more nervous Summers. You don’t need anyone else to ruin your mood. You do an excellent job yourself. She glanced at Spike, feeling a thrill shoot up the back of her spine as his gaze locked on her face. I can’t help loving him when he looks at me like that.

Spike’s eyes burned into hers as he continued climbing up the stairs. They were filled with a desperate need, pulling Buffy towards him as he reached the top.

Both blonds thoughts, mimicked the other: finally.

Spike’s arms immediately engulfed her, strong muscular arms cradling Buffy close to his chest. He smelled of sweat and cigarettes, a purely masculine scent underlying it. Buffy rubbed her face into the black shirt. She loved it.

She smiled up at him, leaning her cheek against him as she listened to the soft breaths of the bleached blond. He had gone with Angel and others to pickup one of Parker’s packages, and truth be told, Buffy had been worried. His grip tightened, causing Buffy to snuggle further into his embrace. Faith couldn’t possibly be telling the truth could she?

Spike’s lips moving across her forehead as he told her how much he had missed her dispelled Buffy’s fears for the moment. They lingered at the back of her mind, shouting to be heard before being deafened by lips of Spike. From that point onwards, she was lost, caught in Spike’s embrace.

She would live in her fantasy whilst she could.

Angel couldn’t help staring with envy at the sight of Buffy and Spike locked in a passionate kiss. Faith had tried to stop the Brit a minute or so before but of course failed miserably. The Brit only had eyes for one woman. Her lack of clothing did nothing to entice Spike, Angel noticing a sneer of distaste mark his friend’s features. The glowering brunette didn’t know whether he was happy about that or not.

Is Buffy really that beautiful? It caused Angel to feel another wave of jealousy that he didn’t get to experience whatever it was about Buffy Summers that had Spike so enraptured.

His hand, large and muscled from use, gripped the beer bottle tighter. It seemed like Will had not taken anything he said to heart. Instead, his second command had gone straight past the festivities in order to be alone with Summers. Angel could only see it ending in disaster.

It was a well known fact amongst men that once you started to ditch your friends (with the extra bonus of free alcohol and ass) for a woman, then you were lost… another fallen soldier to female manipulations. The notion of staging an intervention was almost worth considering.

Faith gyrating to the music halted those thoughts. Though she wore only leather pants the woman still maintained an aura of mystery. Many knew of her infidelity to Parker at least in terms of gang relationships. The fact that Angel fucked her on a regular basis was kept completely hidden. Seeing her crook her finger at him enticingly, Angel doubted that their secret would last long. He drank in the sight of her, sexuality oozing from every pore. Her ‘top’ had been discarded and lay crumpled on the carpet, trodden consistently by heavy feet. The gang leader made to walk over before noticing the way that Jacob also stared.

Angel knew it shouldn’t have bothered him. Hell, nearly every single man in the room had checked Faith out. But inwardly he felt like screaming with possessiveness. In his mind Faith was his. He protected her and if she wasn’t so stubborn would even live at the house. No other man had a right to look at her… particularly not that bastard Jacob.

Jacob seemed to feel the weight of his stare and nodded to Angel with a grin. He knows that he’s pissing me off. The brunette, large with muscle, slammed the beer bottle down, thinking of a similar instance when Spike had beat a man to death for coming onto Drusilla. Some of them had been worried for a moment that the Brit couldn’t take on the man who stood at six foot three. Angel could remember watching his lackeys at the bar take bets on who would lose.

Angel had stuck a fifty down on the table top, not wanting to waste more in case they did have to go save the bleached blond. After the first punch he bet two hundred.

They won over a grand that night.

The fight with the lumbering giant had quickly turned from worry for the Aurelius gang into entertainment. Spike’s smaller size allowed him to move far faster than any of his opponents. His eyes always flashed with frenzied excitement, hands balling into fists and feet jumping excitedly off the ground. Something in him relished the idea of a brawl, even if it was solely him, alone with his back against the wall. It completely contradicted Angel’s view of murder. For him there a good kill was a work of art. Not a thing done in the heat of the moment. But then maybe that was why they worked so well together. If called for, Spike would take the passing blow and save them both. His temper and flare had saved them when Angel felt uncertain but likewise he kept Spike safe from those he ignored. Parker had not even registered on the bleached blonde’s radar until Dru started crawling into the bastard’s bed.

Aureli grinned. When Will finally got his hands on Parker then they would really celebrate. All this partying would look like a child’s birthday party. Parker would not live to see morning. He recalled the giant’s fading moments before he went unconscious. They had got Spike to smash his fist longer into the mangled flesh simply for the hell of it.

If there was a decent enough reason, Spike could be an absolute monster.

The brooding man did not want to think of Spike if reduced to female specifications. A soppy Spike would be of no use to anyone, least of all him. Even when broken over Drusilla’s betrayal he had remained vicious almost demonic. His woman had encouraged that aspect of his personality, almost to the point that any ‘poncy’ nature of William was completely lost. Angel couldn’t see how Buffy would have the same effect.

Angel swallowed the alcohol in large gulps. Jacob had moved away from Faith causing him to grin with anticipation. His ‘soulful’ brown eyes glanced around It was a rare treat to not have his clothes stained with blood and he would relish partying with the gang. One of his women would normally be vying for his attention about now, yet Angel noticed that Cordelia had disappeared. He mentally shrugged, deciding to find her later. Right now he would take advantage of Faith’s good mood and hopefully get more than just information.

God knows he needed it with all the headaches Spike was giving him.

***

The bed was unmade and covered with sheets in disarray. Buffy could see the hint of a black t shirt stuffed under one of the remaining pillows. The blood red colour of the sheets was crumpled in the shape of her body, an odd impression marking the mattress. It remained the only vibrant colour in the room, the cushion she had thrown at Faith earlier still laying on the floor. Its bright tone contrasted against the dull grey of the carpet. It was too dreary a room to be really hers. When Buffy imagined it the bedroom was bathed in lighter hues of green or even yellow if she felt drastic enough. She could imagine Spike’s disgruntled expression, head tilting to the side and a questioning quirk of the mouth as though to say ‘are you daft’. Her hand was grasped tightly in his, the thumb stroking it down absently as he led the way into their room.

She hadn’t bothered to lock the door and he raised an eyebrow at her as he pushed it open. There was nothing of real value in the room except for her journals but it made Buffy wonder what else he kept locked away. His eyes, a watery blue held shock and surprise at the fact that it remained open for anyone to enter. Perhaps he’s hiding something. She hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary besides piles of clothes all in black but then maybe she should look. It was a temptation that was incredibly hard to resist. Her fingers trembled at discovering something of Spike’s. Hearing anything about him at school had been one of her main interests. Willow had called them ‘spuffy’ she obsessed over him that much.

But then it was so difficult to get a word from Spike that wasn’t shrouded in mystery; hidden from her and practically everyone. Buffy would have gone to Angel and asked him if it wouldn’t end in him hitting on her.

Or worse.

She kicked the cushion away with one foot, blushing in shame when Spike chuckled at the sight.

“If I’d known you liked pillow fights so much luv, I would’ve bought an extra set.” He missed her expression of shock and glanced at the floor again which was littered with various pillows and cushions. I’ll have to start teaching her how to fight if this is what she does in her free time. The Brit found it amusing inwardly and grinned at her again when she remained still. Does Buffy honestly think I would be mad? Her eyes were wide as though she wanted to say something but Spike would be buggered if he knew what. He waited a moment, resisting the urge to ask her however no response came.

She’ll tell me in her own time.

Spike moved around Buffy, kicking the door shut with his foot in a loud thump. It would go unnoticed with all the bloody racket downstairs but was still entertaining. There was something sweet about not following the house guidelines that his da’ had insisted upon when young. Tosser was only ever nattering on about sodding rules. He wondered idly whether Joyce had followed in the pillock’s shoes. The picture of her drugged expression quickly alleviated any suspicion. Only thing on that bloody woman’s radar is the location of more booze. Buffy would be lucky if the woman even noticed she existed.

He sat at the foot of the bed, leaning back and watching with anticipation as Buffy’s gaze traveled up his torso. Her long blond hair fell down past her shoulders, the tips just grazing the rise of her breasts. A pert nose was framed by blushing cheeks which had lit up at his comment. They created a rosy shine that mimicked her flush during sex. Spike was looking forward to seeing its recurrence. He smiled at Buffy who swung her arms uselessly, the air creating sounds as she moved back and forth. Her body was completely open with him, not hiding how she felt, even though her mind hid her past.

Stop brooding you stupid git.

Spike leaned back further and spread his legs wide, hands resting on the mattress in an attempt to regain the same mood. Buffy didn’t know it yet but before the month was done he was going to make her spill her secrets.

Spike just had to figure out a way to do it.

He noted with satisfaction that she trembled at the sight of him. Her luminous hazel eyes followed the movement of his arms, the duster now deposited on a chair and thus allowing her a better glimpse. The woman wants me even if she’s afraid to act on it. He held back a laugh as Buffy tentatively took a step forward before letting out a lungful of air when she sat slowly down onto his lap. Bloody woman doesn’t even have to jump me and already I can’t breathe. His hands rested on her narrow hips, loving the silky feel of her skin. Fingers delved under the hem of her top, caressing her stomach and causing a breathy moan to fill the room. Her skin was the colour of cream, thick golden tresses highlighting her beauty. Spike had murmured poems into it when she’d been asleep, unable to help the affection which flowed through him. Buffy was quickly becoming his world.

He nuzzled her chest, one eye catching the utter chaos that had become their sanctuary. Almost looks like someone else was here… Chit really knows how to have fun creating a mess. Buffy’s hand curling around his neck as her other dragged off her shirt stilled his tongue. The notion of another person being in their room was bleeding ridiculous. Buffy was just probably bored. He shifted it into the back of his mind marked ‘ponder later’ and instead licked a trail up her stomach, laving each breast through the lace bra before kissing her deeply. Her fingers were twined in his curls, Buffy nibbling on his bottom lip. The next second her tongue was in his mouth, stroking the roof and overall driving him insane.

Then it stopped.

Buffy placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him away so she could look him directly in the eyes. Spike had given her a perfect opening to spill everything that Faith had said but she had held back. And I’m glad I did. If Faith is right then he would just deny that anything ever happened or worse take her side. Buffy pictured the voluptuous woman, probably right that minute using half the men downstairs. Faith was the complete opposite of her, knowing exactly what she was doing and having every man eating out of her hand. Including Spike added Buffy darkly. The petite blond was certain that if given even an inch Faith would take the opportunity. And then I’ll be alone. Her fingers unconsciously stroked the firm shoulders of Spike. Buffy didn’t know what she would do if he abandoned her. Spike or Will as Angel called him, was her only constant.

The only man I want.

She pressed a chaste kiss against Spike’s forehead, settling deeper into his lap. If she was going to interrogate and be sneaky then she could at least do it comfortably. Not even an apocalypse could have removed her from his lap right at that moment.

Spike obviously knew that something was wrong, brushing a thick wave from her face anxiously. “What’s wrong luv?”

“How well do you know Faith?”

The question startled Spike, mouth hanging open in shock. Why is she so interested in Faith?

“A while pet… Why?

Buffy ignored his query wanting to frown at his evasive reply. Awhile! How the hell am I meant to determine anything when he practices being all monosyllabic. She ground her hips down into his crotch, knowing it was cheating but desperate to know the truth. She had already given so much of herself to him. Any hint of another woman holding his affections or love would tear her apart. Not that her mind would be completely shocked. Spike hadn’t said I love you since he was drunk. He obviously cared for her but Buffy needed to know it was more. I would have just agreed with my father if I knew that this would happen. Buffy could remember quite clearly Hank telling her that love was a mockery of mankind and a real relationship was based on power. To Hank the only thing that mattered was controlling people.

“Did you ever… I dunno know kiss her?” Buffy rushed on as his hands which had been at her waist began to ease. “Were you ever intimate?”

“Do you honestly think I would?” He chuckled bitterly at her expression. “You silly bint… I only had eyes for one woman back then. Bloody Faith never even crossed my mind.” Spike raised a suspicious brow at her. “Why are you nattering on about past birds anyway Buffy? Don’t you trust me?”

Never. You could break me too easily. Buffy didn’t say the words out loud instead glaring back at Spike. The topic of Faith had quickly descended into waters much more murkier. Buffy knew that something had happened with the brunette but decided to let it go; for now. She finally had a chance to really vent at Spike when all other avenues had been lost. Her state of undress was forgotten as she readied herself to tell him off for once. Gods knows that he needs it!

“Why is it so hard for you to say yes or no to me? I mean its really not that hard. Just yep or no.” Her hands fisted in his shirt, neither noticing how odd they looked with her only in a bra and pants and sitting very provocatively in his lap. “And don’t you dare tell me that you’re telling the truth. Everything between us is always hidden and kept away and I’m not certain whether I can believe anything you say. I mean, I sleep with you and don’t even know the names of your parents! Or even where you grew up and let’s not get into the notion of ‘William the Bloody’ sharing his feelings!” Buffy felt like pulling the hair from her head she was so frustrated. “Everything I know about you is common knowledge Spike. I’ve adored you before we even met. Can you really say that you bothered to find out details about me?” She held up her hand as Spike, looking furious tried to retort. “I know you did the basic things that any good little gangster would do, but you never really found out my favourite colour or any useless little facts. It’s always been things that could be shared with Angel.”


Buffy took a deep breath, feeling the anger drain out of her. She was very surprised that he hadn’t thrown her off and gone downstairs to be with Faith. She’d never spoken to anyone like that before in her life.

“I have no one to talk to here Spike. Just you and you have all these secrets I'm not allowed to know. I only want to talk to someone that will tell me the truth. That’s it.” A pout formed across her lips, anger forcing back tears which normally would have spilled. “I only want to know you Spike.”

The Brit was completely stunned. Where in the bleeding hell did that just come from? One minute he had been making out with his woman and the next was being verbally torn to shreds. Buffy’s a bloody spitfire! His fingers tentatively took a tighter hold around her waist, sighing in relief when her arms encircled his chest. He needed time to think about this. A sodding century what with all the emotions she had just given voice to. She doesn’t trust me? Spike scoffed at the thought inwardly, ignoring the tightening of his chest. Just bleeding perfect mate. Got yourself a woman who you’ve managed to unravel in the space of week. Good on you Spike.

The Brit lowered his mouth to her neck cautiously not wanting to receive a slap for his actions. He had no clue as to express himself through words. Even when a poet, language had twisted him inside out, vainly looking for the correct meaning and dragging a thesaurus around with him as a result. There was no way he could tell Buffy anything without first divulging a whole sordid mess of history. Boring and completely uneventful. The fact that Dru had fallen asleep during a recount had done little for his nerves.

He sighed in a mixture of sadness and wonder as Buffy pushed him down onto the bed. She pulled off the remainder of her clothes and then stripped him bare. Her eyes never looked into his, the petite woman gasping into his neck as she rode him. It took his breath away, causing him to arch and push his hips up with each rise and fall. Buffy sat up, swivelling her body in time to his. He called her name, caught up in the sensation and tried to see her expression. She never once glanced down. Instead her head repeatedly rolled back, drawing out her orgasm before slowing down and laying across his chest. Despite the softer pace and her lips brushing along his collar bone he could feel her tears. It made him want to wrench her off his body and look at her; comfort her. Fingers slid down the notched discs of her back, receiving another moan for his efforts. Her tongue nibbled along the bone, biting down with something akin to anger when his hands reached for her breasts.

He came just seconds later.

In a daze Spike looked up, sweat covering his body as Buffy all but ran to the bathroom. The click of the latch on the door made him slump back down into the mattress. What in the bleeding hell just happened?

It was hard not to feel a twinge of resentment when watching them together. She wouldn’t admit to the other feelings that coursed through her but this sense of anger and bitterness was definitely there. Regrettably it forced Cordelia to compare her ‘relationship’ with that of her best friend… something which she had been trying to evade for as long as humanly possible.

Only problems come when your boyfriend is so terrible that you look at your friend’s and wonder ‘why me’?

Unfortunately for the stunning brunette, it was a question that she couldn’t help but ask.

Why is it that Buffy manages to be busy locked in her room with a man like Spike, while mine gropes another girl?

Cordelia watched helplessly, a twitch in the corner of her mouth the only hint that it hurt her to see the couple which danced basically in front of her. Her face was similar to that of a Greek statue, high cheekbones framed by black thick hair. Her body flowed in natural curves, arms graceful and elegant. Her entire demeanor practically screamed prom queen. At school she was known to be rich and not much else but these people, a gathering of vicious and hard eyed gang members, were aware of all her secrets. Some of the women had given her their clothes to borrow so she wouldn’t be caught by the likes of Harmony wearing the same outfit more than once. Mainly they consisted of leather, plaited and dyed in a variety of shades. The one common link between all of them was their blatantly sexuality, made to be worn in a strip club as opposed to the virgin halls of a high school.

Daddy would not be happy at all.

Nor would be happy to know she was here. Countless pairs of eyes had already rested on the tight mini skirt she wore which constantly rode up her thigh whenever she moved in the chair. The plush cloth of the seat kept her upright when all Cordelia wanted to do was to sink into the floor. Her skirt was complimented by a soft cream blouse, strings at the collar untied. There was little need to appear flirtatious but she would do anything at all to grab attention. It’s the only way Angel will even glance in this direction. Cordelia was painfully conscious of the fact that her attempts at conversation mimicked a child’s when compared to Faith.

Her eyes, almost ebony widened in surprise as she caught a glimpse of Wesley, alone in the corner of the room. The man was almost comical, moodily staring through glasses at the writhing mass of people. The strong jaw and nose appeared less severe by his roguish hair which rather than being combed neatly was at odd angles. He looks pissed… Cordelia noticed that his sight was trained on Fred, a slip of a woman who had all the men in her immediate vicinity salivating at the mouth. Blue tinged her hair tonight, the wilder side of Winifred showing through. Cordy had heard whispers from Gunn; the girl’s on again off again boyfriend discussing her sister Illyria who worked the streets in the heart of LA. Fred had been snatched away from her sister’s pimp Trick who’d been eying her for quite some time. Now little miss innocent Burkle was more lethal then most and quite confident in her ability to play Wes and Gunn off of each other.

And to think I only want one man to notice me.

Cordelia was mindful of the reality that if she didn’t belong to Angel, someone would of already asked her to dance. It was one of the supposed benefits which she had first praised to Willow and Buffy after joining his harem. The gang leader had specific rules in place relating to who could and couldn’t touch ‘his women.’ Xander Harris, a harmless friend of Willow’s had discovered that a little too late. Angel let him live but not without a lifelong reminder. The town had been in an uproar when Angel had stabbed Xander in the eye, permanently removing his sight forever. Cordelia didn’t know where the guy had gone besides the hospital, but knew that Angel probably kept tabs. He always was thorough.

The brunette felt her stomach twist in heartache as Faith’s hips grinded back against Angel. Not once since this party had started, had Angel even bothered to look for her. He’s too busy staring at Faith.

Her parents didn’t really know where she was… or at least that’s what Cordelia hoped. It was a far better option then the notion that they knew and accepted the idea of their only daughter hanging around such a crowd. Mr. Chase was not very polite to any shady characters anymore; at least not after being caught withholding taxes from the IRS. Cordelia was well aware that any mention of her and illegal activity in the same sentence, would so not be appreciated. Her parents’ main focus was on trying to survive and had even encouraged her to look for work in LA. The brunette clasped her hands tightly, nails digging into the skin. She didn’t know whether to stay or not, but knew that irregardless of her decision, Angel would find her. Once an Aurelius girl, always an Aurelius girl she thought sadly, remembering the phrase from Darla’s ‘pep talks.’

The celebration party as Jacob had dubbed it earlier was showing no signs of slowing down whatsoever. If Cordelia was a betting person she would even be willing to say it would continue well into the morning.

Very few people remained seated, most of the men leaning against the pale walls while the women danced. Wes still remained in his corner, face twisted into a sneer as Gunn cradled Fred in his arms. That situation is definitely going to explode soon.

Cordelia’s focus shifted back to Faith who finally had stopped her idea of dancing. The woman’s history as a stripper was utterly apparent by the calculated way she moved her hips. Angel stood there, still ignorant of his girlfriend who watched as Faith pulled a phone from her boots. A scared expression crossed her face for just a second, before mouthing the name ‘Parker’ to a hulking Angel.

Uh oh. Looks like someone’s in trouble. Cordelia couldn’t help but feel a malicious delight when Faith scanned the room for her ‘top’. Serves her right that she can’t find it, the skanky ho. Cordy knew that it was most likely one of his lackeys, Warren or Wattle or something similar. If it was Parker himself that had been calling then there would’ve already been a heavily armed guard sent to her retrieve her. The rival gang leader was not stupid enough to dare to come near Aurelius turf himself.

Angel would shoot him on sight.

On the whole Cordelia was certain that the brooding man was not as dark as he liked to appear. It had taken considerable effort to dismiss the image of the man who she made love to, carving with glee his initials into Riley Finn’s chest. Yet she had done it. With considerable effort but she could look at him without seeing a monster.

Cordelia wondered whether she was becoming cold herself, if the idea of Angel shooting Parker in the head only brought a warm feeling of happiness rather than horror.

Oh well.

Her joy at seeing Faith rush out a few minutes later was only slightly dampened by the fact that she wore Angel’s coat to hide her bare chest. Inwardly Cordelia knew she wouldn’t be able to fully look at him tonight when he took her to bed but then what other choice did she have? It had been her idea to entice the ‘dangerous Aureli’ after being warned by Willow and Buffy. It had been her decision to let him take her as ‘practice’ in the bathroom stalls.

You’ve made your bed, now you have to lie in it.

***

The beads of the water pounded down his back, kneading the muscles and helping him to clear his head. Buffy still lay in their bed, blissfully asleep after tossing and turning the entire night. He hadn’t dared to hold her in his arms until she’d finally drifted off, any touches whilst still awake being given the cold shoulder. Her attitude since she had run into the bathroom had been cold and distant.

The heavy thuds of the droplets helped in making the tension slightly dissipate however the Brit knew it was futile. Sooner or latter he would have to go back and face her. Just wish I knew what is bloody well wrong.

His frame shook with a sigh, Spike’s entire body drenched. The water had gone cold from being in there too long and he knew Peaches would not be happy. A small smirk tugged at his full lips for a moment at the thought before descending once more into his customary grimace.

Both palms were placed against the wall, gripping into the tile. His body leaned forward as rivulets of water coursed down his face. The bathroom was a pale blue, meant to be calming when all he wanted to do was smash something.

I just don’t understand her.

Spike had feigned sleep when Buffy had returned from the shower last night, not wanting to cause her unnecessary agitation. Her hair had soaked the pillow beside him and the bleached blond wasn’t sure whether it had been her tears or the soft drips of water that he had heard the night through. The muscles along his arms rippled in frustration as he knocked his head against the tiles. The towels she’d dried herself with had been discarded on the floor but that bloody fuzzy sweater had been put back on. I’m going to burn the sodding thing, vowed Spike.

The chill of the water caused a shiver to course through his lean muscular frame. Smooth alabaster skin was stretched taunt over firm thighs and a well defined chest, Spike being blessed with the rare advantage of being attractive without effort. Angel had been insistent that he gain more bulk but the Brit soon pointed out to the poof he was wrong. In one of their customary fights, which normally stemmed from not killing Parker, the two would smash the hell out of each other. Everyone knew that Spike’s 5”11, athletic body could more than combat against the heavy power of Aureli.

Now all he had to do was get another chance at Parker, without sodding Drusilla getting in the bleeding way.

When his dreams were plagued with dark scenarios, convoluted and twisted in their predictions, Dru always made an appearance. The narrow slant of her cheeks would curve into a deadly smile, one lean finger crooking in a beckoning gesture. That infernal waist of hers, small and framed by jutting hips would bend, her gasping mouth just caressing his brow. It was a hideous replay of the last time he had truly loved her.

Right before she ripped my heart out.

Spike had been ready to shoot Parker, hands not even trembling with the thought that he was ending yet another person’s life. A part of the Brit, bitter over his dark goddess’ betrayal, had reminded him that Abrams was no more a man than he was innocent. The gun he held was black and stained with the blood of the pillock who sat on the ground weeping like a poor girl. Parker had attempted to grab his weapon and put a bullet in Spike’s back, despite their agreement on fists. The Brit wondered why he wasn’t surprised.

He’d smashed the bastard across the jaw as a warning not to try something else.

Drusilla stood in between their cars, having refused both of the males request to stay away. Her hair blew in the wind, whipping across her face with frenzy. She’d stared at them for over an hour as they beat at each other.

Or to be more correct and honest: as Spike bashed Parker into the ground.

She hadn’t protested once, lips covered in thick cherry red lip gloss even giving him the hint of a smile. It was a common method of hers to be neither disapproving nor supportive when he acted out a command or desire. It left her the option of rebuking him later which led to much groveling.

She always loved to call me a dog…

At that time he had still been love’s bitch and despite all her betrayal, lies and callousness, would have taken the crazy bint back.

Perhaps she had done him a favour by choosing Abrams.

Spike took one last look at Parker’s tear streaked face, covered in bruises and barely recognisable. Dru left me for this? He wanted to turn and ask her what she’d been thinking when crawling into the wanker’s bed. Abrams is nothing but a fucking pansy when it comes to the brawl. His finger tightened on the trigger, imaging vainly that once Parker was gone, Dru would come to her senses. Maybe even give up on the drugs.

Instead he stumbled forward, bullets grazing the dry ground just a few feet away from Parker. The bleached blond awkwardly reached out, trying to brace his fall when a sound kick knocked him onto his face.

Fuck!

Looking up Spike could only see the laughing eyes of Dru, a giggle threatening to escape her ruby lips as she clutched a bat.

So that’s why my bloody back is on fire.

The stitches which crossed over his eyebrow burst open, blood coating one side of his face. He ignored it.

The only thing he could focus on was the ebony hair which fell around her shoulders, stray strands dancing wildly. Her finger beckoned him closer, Spike leaning forward against his better judgment.

Why is Dru protecting him? Spike’s face was one of amazement and also incredible betrayal. The woman had not once shown him pity in their time together, demanding that he be as cold and ruthless as possible. Any sign of weakness, whether physical or intellectual was ridiculed…sometimes in front of the entire gang. For her to save Parker’s worthless hide meant that she cared more for a fucking shell of a man than she ever had for him.

The brush of a kiss against his temple felt like ice and made him shudder further.

Drusilla didn’t want him anymore.

Even worse: she had never loved him.

Spike had turned to his side, blood dripping down his nose and splashing on the dry cracked dirt. He made no comment or attempt to reach his gun. letting them leave peacefully. Parker, whipped and pathetic had managed to get into the driver’s seat, flipping him the bird with a fractured hand.

It was the last time he’d felt something when being touched by a woman, other than hate and resentment. The bleached blond was well aware that if not for Buffy he’d still be empty. Her presence forced emotions, unheard of for what felt like eternity to be present.

Spike’s hand curled into a fist. He hated feeling like this. Buffy had the power to utterly destroy him in a flash.

This is what you get for being in love , thought Spike bitterly. Pain, misery and the fucking odd sensation of poncy little butterflies in your gut. He snorted in a moment of dark humor. Lucky me.

He didn’t admit that it also caused a warm glow to flow through him whenever he saw Buffy.

That would be a nancy boy confession…

The Brit groaned, knowing that he really needed to get out of the sodding shower and talk to Buffy. At this rate he’d be as barmy as Dru within a week. Talking to yourself is definitely a wanker like characteristic.

He stood upright, shaking his head as the white peroxide locks clung to his scalp. There was still the blond chit's speech from last night to think about but right now all he wanted was to hold her. I wonder whether Buffy is awake? His hand moved forward to turn off the shower when the familiar voice of the cheerleader came from just outside the bathroom door.

What in the bleeding hell is Cordelia doing in here?

A/N: I'm a huge Sex Pistols fan and just had to include one of their songs. I warn you though that it is fairly inappropiate. I didn't continue it partly because it only gets more raunchy. Enjoy
....................................................................................................

“Buffy?”

Cordelia pushed the door to her friend’s room open slowly, not knowing whether she was being intrusive. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail, face scrubbed clean of the makeup she had covered her eyes and lips with. She regretted even bothering making an appearance down stairs what with Angel’s behaviour.

As soon as Faith left, Darla jumped straight into his line of sight.

She’d fallen asleep waiting up for him in his bedroom and was both happy at the peace and quiet and also upset. Cordelia was certain that somewhere else in the house Darla was waking up to the sight of a very hung over and amorous Angel.

More power to her.

The brunette swung the door open softly, smiling when she saw Buffy’s sheet covered form on the bed. Spike had obviously tired her out last night. Cordelia did not notice the tear tracks which still showed on the petite blonde’s face, closing the door behind her with a barely audible click. Her eyes twinkled with merriment at the obvious dints in the heavy wood where Spike’s boots had kicked it shut.

She looked up quickly when a loud groan came from the bed.

Buffy finally decides to get up…. It’s a miracle. Cordelia missed the sound of water falling in the bathroom, not thinking that anyone would be taking a shower at this time in the morning. Spike’s probably downstairs talking to one of the guys. The girl could remember coming down for a drink in the early hours of the morning to find the Brit smoking with another gang member and watching reruns of Passions. Cordy had learned to just accept his quirky behaviour, particularly when it meant that she had someone to talk to. Spike was the only one brave or more appropriately considered foolish, to risk Angel’s ire and have a real conversation with her. It was more than her boyfriend had ever bothered to do. Angel simply threw you into his world and watched.

Cordelia was certain she would of drowned without Spike.

Buffy’s head rising up from the pillows made the brunette grin like a child. The blond hair was matted and pushed up causing her friend to look like she had stuck her finger into an electric socket. Cordelia was certain that Buffy would scream if she could see herself in a mirror.

“How are you feeling?”

Buffy shrugged, thankful that the fuzzy sweater still covered her body. It would have been embarrassing for her friend to walk in and see her in nothing but a sheet. As it was the silk clung to her curves, a hazy memory of the night before recalling the stark contrast between Spike’s alabaster skin and the black covers which had lain across his hips. The now familiar warmth which spread through her forced Buffy to blush. The petite blond couldn’t even look at the bed without feeling a sense of satisfaction.

That was until she remembered the conversation about Faith. Or put more bluntly the lack of conversation.

Normally Buffy could have shrugged off his refusal to respond with anything more than three syllables but not even saying I’m sorry after she poured her heart out?

That was unforgivable.

Buffy didn’t know exactly how she would deal with the issue today… Her mind had made the suggestion that she continue the charade from last night and simply shut down whenever he touched her, but inwardly she knew that was impossible. She loved him and any actions on his part would not be ignored.

Even if he doesn’t care about anything more than a physical relationship.

Somehow the petite blond didn’t see herself accepting that arrangement for very long either.

Think about it later. Cordelia is here to see you…

Buffy desperately tried to pat down her hair, smiling sheepishly at her friend as it only rose higher. There was no way she would live this down. Looking like a clown first thing in the morning is definitely a negative for the prom queen. Her smile became bitter as she realised that she was now using his nicknames. I might as well declare myself Spike clone 2. Buffy only fell into a deeper pit of despair when she realised that Spike must have left a while ago. There was no sign of him beyond the slight dint in the mattress.

Her inner voice couldn’t help berating her, a common occurrence after the events when a child. It had been the first time she had really stood up for herself in front of a man and thus was a major event. Her father would have smashed her to the floor if in Spike’s position and then probably continued for another hour to teach her a ‘lesson’. The rules clearly dictated that speaking back was forbidden. Buffy couldn’t help the shiver which ran through her whilst her insecurities voiced themselves mentally.

He probably left after your sob fest last night Summers. There‘s no point in him staying in the morning when he’s guaranteed to see water works. Her bottom lip trembled slightly before she recalled the same ire that had shown last night. This wasn’t her father that she was dealing with but another man. Someone she had a slightly equal footing with. Spike had no more right to control her than anyone else. The rebellious chiming of that inner voice was silenced quickly. The father issues could be dealt with later, Buffy instead focusing on her anger at the bleached blond.

Why am I so upset that he left? Spike can’t even tell me that he loves me!

Her hands balled the front of the fuzzy sweater into knots, realising that she needed to talk to someone before she exploded. Buffy had not really discussed anything with Cordelia since her indoctrination into the gang.

Maybe she can help.

Finally taking a good look at her friend, Buffy was shocked to see the brunette’s tearful expression. It was not an odd occurrence after the girl had started dating Angel but was still worrisome.

“Okay spill.”

Cordelia nodded, settling herself in the bed beside Buffy before hugging the other girl. “I’m completely sick of Angel.” Her declaration rang in the silence of the room as unbeknownst to the women Spike listened in the shower.

This will be enlightening. He bit back the desire to call out to Cordelia and tell her they were all sick of the poofter. Somehow he didn’t see Buffy liking his eavesdropping.

Slowly he turned the water off, standing there in the shower as Cordelia detailed Peaches’ infidelities in avid detail. Spike could barely believe the amount of women the man had been after. If Cordelia was telling only half the truth then there were still serious repercussions with his other birds. Darla won’t be happy. The Brit was well aware that anyone Angel slept with also had to be approved by the frozen woman. Her place as queen had never been disputed since that mess with Connor. To think that the wanker had the balls to test fate, and the gang’s stability for some short skirts was both numbing and infuriating.

His interest perked when the brunette mentioned Faith. That woman had ambition clearly written all over her and hated Peaches with a passion that rivaled his. Angel must be stupider than I thought to go cavorting around with her… silly ponce doesn’t know when he’s being played… messing with Parker’s girl… can only lead to more bleeding trouble. Spike groaned to himself. Things were already complicated enough with the relationships between the Initiative and Aurelius. Screwing Abram’s bint would only shoot everything to hell. Buffy’s voice murmuring in agreement caused Spike’s thoughts to fade away. She can’t really think that can she?

In the other room Buffy had listened to Cordelia’s complaints with growing apprehension. If Angel was susceptible to Faith than who else would fall to the woman’s charms? Her weak self esteem only shattered more when Cordelia discussed at length how Faith had been charming her way into not only Aureli’s arms but also making cracks at Spike. Her strangled expression caused the brunette to look at her questioningly.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think that Faith has done more with Spike than simply be flirtatious.” The surprise on her friend’s face made her feel slightly better. If Cordelia is shocked than maybe what that ho said was a lie. “She had a chat with me about him and said a few things that lead me to believe that they were intimate… I … confronted him last night and Spike said it wasn’t true…” Buffy looked up from her lap to see the comforting brown eyes of Cordelia. “What if it is though?”

“Then you make sure that he never goes back.”

“And the fact that he won’t talk to me about anything?” asked Buffy sadly. She knew that her friend was close to giving up completely on ever having a real relationship with Angel. The reality that Cordy was counseling her to just let Spike’s behaviour go was more frightening than she expected.

“You can either berate him for it until he explodes which he most definitely will” remarked Cordelia with a soft smile. “Or you can take what he gives and be happy with it. I speak from experience when I say that nagging gets you nowhere.”

“Besides Buff, I doubt that you want to know about Spike’s past. It’s most likely just as dark and painful as yours.” Cordelia stretched back against the headboard, noting that the blond did not seem too happy with her suggestion. Buffy always has been insecure; particularly with that goddamn father of hers.

“Have you told him anything about LA and Hank?” inquired Cordelia quietly.

“Of course not” replied Buffy, astonished that her friend would even suggest it. “He thinks I’m all innocent and pure. There’s no way that he’d want me if he knew the problems it would cause. I’d tell Spike if I trusted him but I can’t. There’s nothing between us except this sense of need and deep heart clenching emotion, which he doesn’t even feel. I love him but that’s not enough.”

Cordelia shook her head at that statement. “I don’t think so. He probably feels the same Buff. Spike never has taken to anyone the way he has with you. The man may not be very vocal about the things that are important but I know he cares more than is most likely appropriate from Angel’s viewpoint.” Her hand reached over to Buffy’s squeezing it gently in a moment of solidarity. “I can understand about not telling him though. The one thing that I can agree full heartedly with Darla is to not ever trust a man with anything but the television. I don’t know the full story but I doubt that Spike would react kindly.” The brunette paused for a moment, watching Buffy slowly nod her head in agreement. The last thing she wanted to see was the girl be rejected by William. It would ruin her and also put Buffy in instant danger.” Just remember to never judge them exactly the same either. Each has their own individual faults and strengths, Spike’s just happens to be a lack of verbosity except when ridiculing Angel.” Cordelia laughed bitterly, the reminder of her boyfriend all too sharp. “I think you should be happy that even if he was with Faith, he hasn’t gone to her since you showed up. That woman looks so much like a hooker that it would be hard for any man to tear his eyes off of her, let alone stop doing the dirty.”

Buffy nodded somberly. “I guess.” Her eyes were thankfully not full of tears, though she was sure that Cordelia could inspire them. The brunette knew about parts of her history through her father who’d had his finger in every honey pot. It was one of the main reasons why they were even introduced to one another. Cordelia was meant to be a link to the old world.

She just hoped that Spike would never find out.

Cordelia noticed the way Buffy’s eyes had glazed over, thoughts most likely about the bleached blond taking precedence. She could only look at the girl with envy, knowing that inevitably Spike would recognise her value. Angel would never give up any of the other women for me. It was an unspoken agreement between them all that once he tired of them, it was their job to simply disappear. Their safety was always guaranteed, one of the gang leader’s men ultimately checking on his former mistresses to report back on their welfare but he never went near them again. Cordelia got up from the bed, muttering a cheery goodbye to Buffy as she exited. They would be leaving for school soon but that didn’t mean she couldn’t plan anything.

Angel didn’t know it but she was leaving Sunnydale and him for good.

***

Spike sighed gratefully when the bedroom once more descended into silence. There was just so much to bleeding think about that he could barely stand without wanting to fall over from the weight.

I need to start keeping a journal.

It was a rather poncy thing to do in his opinion, the last one being torn to shreds after his mother’s death but he really needed it now. Anything would have been welcomed after the sudden torrent of emotions which swept through him.

And it’s all about Buffy.

He could feel this growing sense of doubt over refusing to tell her anything about him or his history. Her plea from last night still clearly resounded in his head, the wide hazel eyes having implored him to tell her something about himself.

Instead I tried to silence her like a bloody wanker.

The bleached blond stepped out of the shower, muscles clenching in protest. The women had been nattering on for a good hour before Buffy even started to talk about any of her problems. He still couldn’t believe that Faith would have the guts to try and trick Buffy into believing that something had happened between them. I’m going to kill her. One hand reached for a pale cream towel, winding it around his hips before staring at the mirror.

Who was he?

Spike could see traces of William in his demeanor, a soft smile or the way he touched Buffy bringing out the weaker side of his personality. Prior to the little spitfire he had dreaded any mention of his pre Spike days. Anything that reminded him of his mother and that tragedy was best left forgotten.

Now it seemed like William wanted to make regular appearances, very nearly ruining his Big Bad image and coming close to baring himself to Buffy. That scene downstairs with Finn could have easily turned into a brutal torture session rather than the salvation of Captain Cardboard. So many instances where he had gone soft because he feared what she would think began to race through his head, forcing the Brit to acknowledge that his emotions already were showing themselves. Even if he still could kill, brawl and be the menace of all other gangs, Spike knew he would find himself wondering about what the petite blond was doing, her fears, her thoughts.

Peaches has every right to be worried.

His azure eyes were ringed by red veins from lack of sleep and stress. They had always been considered his best feature, Darla saying it was one of the main reasons she ever warmed to him. The Brit secretly rued the messages they conveyed. All Buffy would have to do is look into his eyes to know that he loved her.

Buffy’s words from earlier echoed in his mind. She didn’t trust him with anything it seemed. He’d isolated her from a life of complacency and hadn’t bothered to give her an outlet.

It was painful to know that the girl couldn’t tell him anything.

Probably the chit’s idea of retribution for my own silence.

Angel had hinted more than once that Buffy was not all as she seemed but he’d been foolish and ignored the warnings. After all, the poofter would be intent on causing Spike to distrust her as much as humanly possible. It would severely dampen any emotions which may cause the Brit to have a change of heart. Spike knew that such a day would never come but perhaps he would take a lesser role. Jacob was more than willing to be Peaches’ new lackey.

He snorted at the thought. Angel would never accept anyone else but him as second in command. The wanker needs me too much.

The bleached blond smiled slightly to himself when hearing the sounds of Buffy getting dressed and not five minutes later departing from the room. He doubted that she knew he was so close and would’ve hung him if discovering that he’d been listening. He knew from hearing Dru’s conversations with bleeding Miss. Edith that women were particular about that sort of thing. It was comforting to know though that the prom queen wasn’t a sodding china doll.

Just another difference between the two.

He cocked the door open an inch, making sure the room was empty before stepping onto the carpet. He was nearly completely dry and only white curls dripped down his forehead. He flung the damp towel into the corner of the room, grinning when he saw the dreaded fuzzy sweater had been left behind. Spike grabbed the awful concoction of fabric and hastily threw it into his bag. He was fairly certain that Buffy would notice its absence later and wanted to donate it to Good Will or some other charity in order to be certain that the blasted thing would not return.

The issue of her hidden secrets weighed heavily in his mind as Spike dragged on a tight pair of black levis. Her mum most likely knew what had happened but he was certain that he wanted to go nowhere near the bird. She was already fairly batty what with the drugs and all. The blond was fairly certain that rehashing old issues would only make her worse. I need to send her to a clinic he thought morosely. Spike had not done anything for the chit’s mum besides having one of the gang members check to see that she was still at the house. He honestly didn’t trust Angel or that git Jacob to see to it themselves. The wankers would simply leave her there to rot.

The customary red shirt, shiny and freshly cleaned of the stain of alcohol was thrown across his back quickly, Spike hasty to get down stairs. Bloody school would be starting soon and as much as he wanted to give up on it, Rupes insisted that he go. Besides thought Spike gruffly, humoring the old man won’t harm more than my pride.

The last thing that entered his head as he jumped down the stairs towards his girl was the issue of trust. In particular all the delicious ways he could earn it.

Buffy will be spilling her secrets in no time at all.

***

Unfortunately Spike was wrong. It wasn’t a common occurrence but still smarted when Buffy, scowling and depressed jumped into the Desoto with barely a glance in his direction. Angel hopped into the front seat just moments later, Buffy sitting directly behind him. Darla and Cordelia piled in ten minutes later and before Spike had had a chance to say anything to Buffy beyond the customary ‘hello pet’, they were off.

The drive to school, if possible was worse than the strain between them last night. The only thing that could be heard was the murmurs of Buffy and the cheerleader in the back seat, Darla stonily staring out the window. The Brit had tried to soften the atmosphere, turning on the Buzzcocks’ “Orgasm Addict” but that hadn’t been received well at all. The cheerleader’s wails of ‘this is shit!’ coupled by Angel’s grin caused Spike to sink even deeper into his seat.

This is worse than hell.

The car remained silent for several more minutes before he grabbed for the sex pistols, cursing anyone who dared to voice a protest. They could have a go at his other bands as long as they bleeding well liked, but Johnny Rotten and the like of Sid Vicious was sacred. The gang leader beside him wisely kept his mouth shut, a physical signal to all to respect the music. Spike was positive that he’d drive straight into the building if they said another bickering word.

He didn’t even know what to do if they kept silent.

The first tunes of ‘Friggin’ in the Riggin’ caused Cordelia to bash her head against the back of his chair. If Buffy had been worried about his sanity before than she would want to reserve a place in the mental institute after listening to this song… She stuck her fingers into her ears, making sure not to groan even as pale blue eyes cast a hard stare in her direction.

Why on earth didn’t she walk?

Spike’s voice joined into the opening verse, not seeing the way Buffy’s eyes widened at each word.

“It was on the good ship Venus
By Christ, ya shoulda seen us
The figurehead was a whore in bed
And the mast, a mammoth penis

The captain of this lugger
He was a dirty bugger
He wasn't fit to shovel shit
From one place to another

Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
Friggin' in the riggin'
There was fuck all else to do-

“ENOUGH!”

Buffy reached forward, turning the dial down until once more the confines of the car were filled with only breathing. She didn’t know who the hell would ever listen to such crap but was certain that if it played for another minute she would leap onto the pavement.

The blond never took note of the way Spike’s eyes lingered on her with warmth rather than the deadly glares that would normally befall anyone stupid enough to touch the volume.

Instead she cast him a withering glance before settling huffily back into her seat.

Angel sighed loudly, happy that someone had finally turned off the song. Spike’s face had been tense throughout the song as though preparing himself for the inevitable protest. Their first drive to LA together had mainly consisted of arguments over what to listen to and who had the better taste in music. The gang leader could state with complete experience that listening to more than hour of ‘good 70’s rock bands’ could make your ears bleed.

There was a collective sigh of relief when Spike blasted the nose of the Desoto into the parking lot.

Cordelia and Angel were the first to scramble to safety with Darla close on their heels. Buffy started to move when a strong hand gripped her arm, holding her in place.

The petite blond rolled her eyes at Spike’s expression, both filled with resentment and the slightest tinge of hurt.

What reason did he have to feel terrible? It isn’t him that gets shut out all the time. She resisted the urge to lean over and kiss him, already feeling her knees weaken at the sight he made. Reckless curls were plastered over his head with the man obviously not taking the time to slick them back as per usual. His doc martens had been replaced with heavy combat boots with the aura of ‘fuck off’ clear for all to see.

Spike looked absolutely delectable.

Buffy opened her mouth to ask him what he wanted but was quickly silenced by a firm kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth, completely dominating her and leaving her mind in a state of shock. Within a minute she had gone from detesting the obnoxious Brit to desiring him.

The husky baritone of his voice only lowered her ire, Spike pulling her into the front seat and placing her in his lap.

He brushed his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss, shyly running his hands down her arms. “I’m sorry about last night Bufty. I’m a bad rude man but I promise to start talking.” He grinned sheepishly at her, loving the way her hazel eyes reflected his image. They stayed that way for several minutes, the bell in the background only slowly filtering in. When he finally registered it the Brit groaned in annoyance, opening the car door and settling Buffy on her feet gently. Her hand, small and soft reached for his, squeezing it for a moment before walking off to the main entrance.

Spike watched her go, the words on the tip of his tongue sounding too late to be heard. “I love you pet.”


* Friggin in the Riggin by the Sex Pistols
please R&R. I can't help feeling like I've lost some viewers.

The main hallway was once again packed to the brim, various groups instantly melding into the lockers as she passed. The heels of her sneakers scuffed along the dull tile floor causing small squeaks to raise eyebrows of her supposed betters. It was common knowledge that she didn’t really belong with the Aurelius gang.

In their eyes, Buffy was nothing more than a nerd who by some miraculous chance had convinced Angel and Spike that she was worth something. For the majority, they tolerated her because there was no other option.

It was simply not allowed to abuse anyone from Aureli’s gang; especially any of the women. The only thing worse than ignoring such members was to try and take what was theirs… in the case of Spike, his greatest possession was seen to be Buffy. Unless you were the leader of your own gang, women were considered to be the belongings of their partners. Buffy rolled her eyes in anger at the whole situation. If Angel had ever tried to take her as his officially, no gangs or rules would have stopped her from saying no. The only reason she tolerated the idea of being Spike’s was mainly because he did not treat her like an object to be paraded around. She meant something to him.

If only I knew what.

The first sign that people were slightly afraid was the way their eyes flickered away when she tried to look them in the eyes.

The second and perhaps worst was the haughty glares from those who tried to intimidate back.

Buffy threw her bag to the ground roughly as Harmony all but barreled into her. She had thought that the ditzy girl would have learned to leave her alone but obviously not. People around them moved to the sides, some amused whilst others looked on in distaste. Harmony was being far too sickeningly simpering for anybody to believe it.

The petite blonde opened her locker, relishing the sight of books and useless paper as an escape. Soon the bell would ring and she’d be able to extricate herself from the idiot who was now babbling in her ear. Pudgy arms grabbed hold of her waist for a moment in a false hug before Buffy pushed away the clinging arms with distaste. Everything about her is so fake.

Harmony obviously did not register Buffy’s anger or loathing, grinning down at the other blond. “I’m so happy that you finally came to school Elizabeth!” She waved a hand at Buffy’s surprise, unaware that the petite blond was amazed that Harmony could work out where her nickname came from. “Is it okay that I call you that? I know we got off to a bad start, with me calling you a freak ever since you enrolled at this school but I’m sure that we can overcome that – since now you’ve become cool!” Her fake smile full of impossibly white teeth, if possible widened even further.

Where does she get the oxygen to talk this quickly? thought Buffy deploringly. The girl did not once take a breath except to grin, making her wonder whether Harmony believed that they were stuck in a beauty pageant. It would explain the incessant flourishes of her hands, complete with bright pink fake nails and the dull glimmer of heavily plastered mascara.

Buffy wanted to scream when once more Harmony reached for her shoulders, deciding not to bother with pleasantries anymore. She had never had to deal with this in LA and certainly wasn’t about to start now. No one would’ve dared to try this back then.

Luckily for Harmony, Willow at that moment emerged from among the mass of people who had eagerly been watching the confrontation. The long red hair today was slung back into a prim and proper ponytail, the plaid and colours of brown and tan doing nothing for her appearance. If given the right attire, Willow could be a bombshell, making men like Angel desperate to rid her of that innocent virtue.

Perhaps that was why she insisted on the tweed outfit. It kept her safe from the conflict that erupted over other girls in the school.

Normally meek and shy, the red head nerd wasted no time in sidestepping around Harmony and firmly placing the fool behind her. Indignant sputters and murmurs of surprise could be heard from all around them as the crowd regarded Willow’s brave move. She had been bullied mercilessly and never once showed any sign of retaliation.

Her actions were completely unprecedented.

Plastering a cherry smile onto her face, Willow winked at Buffy, knowing that everyone could hear their conversation. “Did you kill that guy yet or what?” The shoes, black and neat with buckles nervously knocked against each other, the only sign that her friend was nervous. “I heard that he was always harassing you and it was just a matter of time before he ended up all you know…” Willow made an exaggerated movement of being hung by a noose to fill in the end of her sentence.

Buffy could only shake her head in the negative, not having a clue what Willow was talking about but certain that if the red head didn’t explain she would wig. What does she think she’s doing?” Buffy tuned out to the rest of her best friend’s comments as she realised that their audience had all but dispersed. Even Harmony is gone for once.

The two girls shared a look of pure happiness, Buffy grabbing her books from the dingy locker and then walking off to class.

As long as she had Willow she would be okay.

***

The first two classes of Biology and Chemistry barely made themselves known except as extended periods of boredom. Willow, of course, sat in the front, taking notes eagerly into a bulging folder that Buffy was sure contained every sentence Mrs. Elms had ever said. She could even picture the red head’s writing:
”the cell is central to the body’s survival” – pause, deep breath – “pay attention Jeremy! This isn’t a class which you can afford to ignore. As I was saying…”

Buffy rolled her eyes as the bell finally went. She really needed to start doing the homework if she was imagining what Willow was copying down. The whole thing was too ridiculous, but the petite blond knew that she would end up sneaking a peek into the neat, cursive writing of Willow Rosenberg. The opportunity for a friendly tease was too good to pass up.

Now she sat in the classroom devoted to English, her teacher, a thin brittle woman who resembled a bird. Buffy didn’t even bother responding to the customary greeting, knowing that the whole thing was a waste of time. The notion of an ordinary life, free from the perils of her family history or involvement with yet another gang, had long since been dismissed.

Buffy could never be just a normal girl.

When did I stop caring? she wondered.

Mrs. Martin snapped at the class to take a seat, deciding to not remark on Buffy who already was lounging in a chair, looking positively bored out of her mind. The teacher just glared. They all knew that she didn’t want to be there anymore than the staff wanted to be surrounded by future crime lords and their mistresses. The marks that they gave out were half the time determined by the unspoken threat that would befall any teacher stupid enough to fail an Aurelius member. The small brunette only held her tongue because she had seen the small healing wound on Buffy’s neck. She would fall into real trouble if she dared to ignore such an obvious mark.

As if on cue Spike strolled into the classroom ten minutes later, not bothering to give an excuse for his tardiness. The duster billowed behind him, tight clothing emphasising the firm muscles which lay beneath his shirt. More than one girl looked him up and down longingly before darting nervous glances back at Buffy. She had been known as a nerd but the girl must of done something to warrant such devotion from Spike Giles. If the petite blond had been declared as Angel’s girl they would have assumed that her looks had been the major factor but Spike was different.

Buffy looked down at her notebook with a grin as the other girls turned their stares downwards. I wish I could make Willow lie like that more often. The red head’s tale was certain to keep Harmony away for at least a week.

This is paradise.

She moved her foot which had been skimming along the floor to the leg of the chair next to her, hoping that Spike would sit next to her. The legs made a large screech which quickly drew the Brit's attention. Buffy cringed only slightly at the sound, aware that her own chair was capable of making the same awful sound. If she was forced to linger in the stifling classroom then Buffy was going to make certain that Spike had the displeasure of sitting down also.

The metal sides of her seat dug into her back, causing a small groan to escape. Sunnydale High did not have a great deal to offer in terms of classrooms and utensils but they did have an amazing ability as a whole to overlook the odd objects in a student’s clothes or weird phone calls.

The platinum hair of Spike coupled with his larger than life attitude was just another issue that the administration was more than happy to disregard.

The biting remarks of the teacher as she announced that the class would be studying poetry were added to by groans from the people around her. Spike, she noted also made the customary noises of discontentment as he walked down the aisle. Despite this, the comments were not anywhere close to the usual contempt the bleached blond was known to show if something really irked him. Buffy bit her pen, gnawing on the top as she considered this new fact. Poetry and Spike seemed to be completely opposite but there was obviously a link there. She promised to find out what it was before the end of the day. Her attention turned once more to the blackboard as the man sat down beside her, nudging her foot with his army boots in acknowledgement.

The Brit had smirked when he saw the empty seats surrounding Buffy. They must have known that he wouldn’t like another git going near her, particularly after the events with Riley. His gift to Parker had spread through not only the high school like wild fire, but also throughout the town.

He couldn’t suppress the urge to crow his victory. Let the stupid ponce look after Captain Cardboard, he thought victoriously. Maybe it will stop him from being such an utter wanker.

Spike’s hand gently stroked Buffy’s, feeling a wave of relief flow through him when she didn’t reject his touch. The lesson blurred in his ears, the chipped black nail polish on his hand holding more interest than Mrs. Martin who was lecturing on the aesthetic qualities of poetry. Spike snorted with contempt. The woman would know a decent sonnet if it bit her on the arse. Azure eyes rolled backwards in annoyance when another student suggested that they should create their own poetry rather than listen to “some dead guy’s writing.”

The Brit only needed to recall his own attempts to instantly disagree with the idea.

“Oi!” Spike waved his hand from the back of the class, unable to help curling his tongue behind his teeth at the look Mrs. Martin gave him. “Why don’t you just tell us who we’ll be bloody well studying? I for one have no wish to listen to sodding nancy boys dribble on about cheerleaders and their bleeding pom poms.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke, a few of the aforementioned ‘nancy boys’ cringing in their seats. Serves them right.

Spike jerked his focus away the next moment, shrugging halfheartedly in an attempt to be innocent as Buffy swatted his arm.

“What?”

“You know what” hissed Buffy, with just a slight hint of anger. “You’re being a big showoff!” Her hazel eyes glanced around them, making sure that no one was listening. “Was that really necessary?”

“Not really, but it was funny.” Spike chuckled before spying a glance at his girl. Her expression was like a dark storm cloud, all too similar to the one he had spotted in the car while his music played.

Best to keep quiet.

Wisely, Spike decided to stay silent, and instead pulled out his notebook, sketches of her face gracing the inner pages. He realised as soon as he opened the cover that he had picked the wrong one and cursed himself as Buffy openly perused the pages. Rather than looking at him in disgust or mockery which the Brit was completely prepared for, the girl instead leaned over further, forgetting that just a minute before she had been berating him.

It appeared that the Big Bad could draw.

“Angel’s far better at it” said Spike gruffly. His eyes which had before sparkled with mischief now were full of self consciousness, slightly embarrassed that he had shown her. It didn’t matter that it had been accidental. She’s going to think you’re a right ponce now William. He waited for her to make a comment, utterly ignoring the teacher when she threw a question in their direction. “Please say something pet.”

The petite blond barely heard Spike’s murmur, tracing the lines with her fingers.
It took Buffy a few minutes of studying the paper before she finally comprehended that he had spoken. “They’re wonderful Spike.” Her eyes glimmered, amazed that anyone, let alone Spike Giles had studied her face so intimately and then been able to reproduce it. The Brit had captured every feature including the slight upturn of her nose and the slight pout that sometimes formed when annoyed.

Spike merely shook his head awkwardly. “They’re only drawings” he muttered. “I could never draw you perfectly.” He brushed a blond lock away from her face not caring at the open stares which followed each moment. “Nothing could ever do justice to your beauty Buffy. You’re effulgent.”

He smiled at the way her face quirked at the odd description, surprised himself that he had used such a word. That type of speech had always been more of a William mannerism than Spike. For such a manifestation of what the bleached blond regarded as his poncier side to occur, could only mean one thing. I’m really weakening around her.

***

Willow swung her hands listlessly, mulling over the day’s events. She had been surprised at the ease with which Spike and Buffy interacted, their actions and words not even really needing explanation before the other would respond accordingly. Her best friend could complain all she wanted about them not being connected and the bleached blond hiding his secrets away, Willow didn’t think it really mattered. Their relationship was cemented even without the confessions.

Buffy is so lucky.

The entirety of English had been spent sneaking glances back at the enraptured pair, the entire class taking turns. There was something so pure and interesting in their involvement with each other that not many could bother to pretend that they weren’t intrigued. Willow chose to ignore the fact that half the students would later report the events to one of Parker’s lackeys.

That was something she was privileged enough to forget about.

The long red hair which seemed to cascade down her back swayed gently from side to side as she walked. Willow had tried to go for a more risqué look but ended up wrenching her hair free from its confinement. Besides, she thought wistfully, Xander always said that he liked it down. Her heart seemed to beat faster for a second as she remembered the way the brunette boy had looked at her during his time in Sunnydale. His parents were drunkards and had moved to Sunnydale in order to escape debt collectors and the like. Xander, otherwise known as Alexander Lavelle Harris had enrolled himself at the high school and made instant friends with her.

Buffy knew very little about him, beyond the fact that Willow was hopelessly in love with the man and almost guaranteed never to see him again. After Xander had decided that he liked Cordelia, his fate had been sealed.

Angel did not accept anyone moving in on his territory.

What had followed had been nothing short of an execution; the large muscled gang leader making sure that Xander not only lost any chances with Cordelia but also any relative safety. Aureli and his thugs had hounded the smaller man, beating him mercilessly in his home and then later wounding him with the intent of murder.

Willow didn’t know how Buffy could stand to live in the same house as the monster.

The call to the hospital had been the red head’s only warning that Xander had been injured yet again. They had both thought that in time Angel would simply leave him alone and recognise that Xander was no threat whatsoever. She realised on hindsight that the gang leader would only loose face if not making her crush an example of.

His actions if anything only caused the brooding man to gain more notoriety; a cruel trade considering that Xander lost all sight in his left eye.

Willow shuddered, wrapping her arms more firmly around herself. The police had not even bothered to investigate how a knife had managed to imbed itself in his eye socket. That would’ve only caused trouble for Angel. Instead, to her horror and disgust, Xander had claimed that he had done it, trying to commit suicide. She would always remember the hard stare he gave her as people rushed into the room demanding answers.

Willow still felt guilty about keeping silent.

The odd tuft of grass drew her mind away from the horrible memories, the red head veering up a driveway after five minutes of brisk walking. The pavement she had traversed trailed on for another three blocks, nondescript houses being the only main feature. She breathed deeply for a moment before walking inside her home. The door creaked slightly as she moved over the threshold but no other sound could be heard. Willow sighed in relief, bounding up the stairs and into her room with energy not usually demonstrated. It was needed if she wanted to escape their questions.

The small girl launched herself onto the single bed, winking at her tank full of fish and then flopping onto her back.

Finally I’m home.

Her entire body slumped as the tension from the day waxed away. Thank God I got back in time. Willow knew that if she missed the call she would never forgive herself. It had been so long since she had last seen him, let alone heard his voice. The ringing of the phone on the bedside table caused a shiver fo excitement to course through the girl’s body, Willow jumping up from the bed before grabbing it. Her fingers shook in nervousness, numbly punching the ‘speak’ button.

“Hello?”

Xander’s warm baritone sounded on the other hand, exactly the same as before. “Hey Wills. How is my favourite girl?”

She blushed, biting back the desire to ask whether she really was his favourite. Xander was the only boy she had ever been truly interested in. “I’m fine”, she replied nervously. “How are you?”

“Good. I was wondering whether I could ask a favour…” There was a tinge of desperation to his tone but Willow ignored it.

What could be the harm?

“Sure Xander, I’d tell you anything.” Willow laid back on the bed, her heart thumping madly at the joy that she was talking to him. Xander had never hurt her in the years that she had known him, it was impossible to think he would now. “Ask away Harris, I’m waiting.”

Willow grinned as she heard a rustling of paper from his end of the phone. He probably wants to know how to do a homework question, she thought naively. A warm glow suffused her at the notion of the man calling her for something so simple. It would be typical of Xander. His next words shocked her to the core.

“What do you know about Buffy Summers?”

Willow gaped for a moment, mouth hanging open in mimicry of her fish. She had no idea how he knew anything about her best friend but was instantly worried.

“Why do you care?” she asked.

Xander laughed good naturedly. “Just curious Willow. Some of her family lives in LA and wondered what has been happening with her in Sunnydale.” He chuckled, trying to put the girl at ease. “I promised them that I would find out. You wouldn’t want me to go back on my promise would you?”

Willow shook her head, “no, of course not…” She swore she could hear the glee that her words gave Xander and shuddered. If Buffy finds out, she’ll never forgive me. She told me not to talk about her to other people. The red head bit her lip anxiously as Xander’s voice once more sounded over the line. He was getting impatient.

“You swear you won’t tell anyone but her family?”

The man answered in the affirmative, reminding her of their friendship. “On the yellow crayon, I promise not to tell any other person” he replied.

Willow nodded before spilling all the information that she knew concerning her best friend. She would only realise much later that she had sold Buffy’s safety to the devil, and thus brought trouble for the whole of Sunnydale.

And all for the memory of a yellow crayon.

“Tell me something about your past.”

Spike looked up from the book he’d been reading; surprised that Buffy was still talking to him. The rest of school had been spent either listening with boredom to teachers or casting occasional glances at one another. The last she’d spoken to him had been right after he revealed those nancy boy sketches in his notebook.

The Brit was certain that his girl would be unhappy if he told her that he’d torn them out as soon as they arrived home, stuffing the pages into an empty drawer. He hoped desperately that they would remain there. The poof would have a field day if he found out.

The drive home had been silent except for the sounds of ‘The Kinks’ playing in the background. Sure, Buffy had held his hand for a moment but her eyes still retained that look of betrayal. Spike had broken the speed limit in order to rush home, the hazel orbs seeming to accuse him of an unknown wrong.

He wouldn’t be surprised if she kicked him out of their room. What’s worse is that I would obey.

A hand moved across his face causing the Brit to abandon his thoughts.

“Hello earth to Spike.”

“Yeah pet, I heard you. Was just thinking is all.” He shut the book carefully, turning the edge of the page into a bookmark. It had been a gift from his mother just before she passed and was the one thing that he had kept by his side constantly. The cover was battered and close to falling off but still he did not put it away. The only time Spike hid it was when Angel decided that they needed to get to know each other better. It often was caused by one of the poof’s drunken binges but the Brit had yet to refuse him. It was downright humorous watching Peaches spill booze all over himself as he recounted past exploits. Spike had all the entertainment he needed right at home. The bleached blond smiled warily at the woman beside him as she grinned brightly.

Here goes nothing.

“Do you have any particulars luv?”

Buffy threw herself into the couch, shaking her head to indicate her openness. She was amazed that the man had not shrugged away her request and instead was actually willing to divulge something. Her hands fisted self consciously in her lap, sliding a glance at the worn book which Spike had carefully placed beside him. It was obviously precious to him and she fought the urge to ask where it had come from. Another time she thought, resisting the chance to inspect it again. Pay attention Summers!

Spike sighed, leaning his head back until it rested on the couch. This was harder than he had expected. “When I was younger, my da’ and I would go out onto the lake. It was barely warm at best, filled with gigantic fish that I used to have nightmares about.” He chuckled dryly, combing his fingers back through his slicked back hair. “I was fourteen at the time and was just entering that rebellious ‘devil may care’ phase. Back then I was only known as William and was a right ponce to be blunt, wore tweed and was known to spout off Wordsworth during lunch breaks.” Azure eyes caught hazel expecting to see a smirk or appraising look but instead found only rapt attention. Buffy is actually interested… bloody hell. “I guess you could say that I was ready for a change and hadn’t really understood why there was all this fuss concerning my mum. She'd not been right for a while but the doctors had given her the all clear six months before. My da’ and her had wanted to celebrate by going to see summer home they owned in Bath; ‘to relive memories’ as they put it. I should’ve known something was up the moment I heard them say it, but I was blind back then, caught up in my own affairs.”

The Brit clenched his jaw in an effort to fight back the wave of emotions which threatened. If only I had been there he thought bitterly. I could’ve prevented it. Spike leant into Buffy’s body as she moved closer and decided to continue.

“There was this bird, who lived in the heart of the town, called Cecily. She’d never given me the time of day but I was desperate that year to prove that I could be more than William the Bloody Awful Poet. Da’ had warned me not to leave the property but I did so anyway, running across town until I finally found her.”

“What happened then?” inquired Buffy gently. Spike’s voice had become steadily deeper as the tale progressed, leaving her to wonder what dark secret he was carrying. She had expected some story about him and Angel in LA, running into trouble and having a fight. The man’s confession was something entirely different.

“She told me that I was beneath her”, Spike muttered, rolling his eyes at the childish retort. If he had known for one second that he’d been wasting his time on the idiotic chit he would never have bothered disobeying his father. He waved off the consoling expression that Buffy gave him, knowing that ultimately it didn’t matter. “S’ long time ago pet. I’m over it…" His voice became rougher as he recalled the way he had cried over her rejection, tearing up the stupid poem he'd written. "I didn't take it well back then though. Bloody well walked around that sodding place for over an hour before hiking my miserable arse all the way home. I was too ashamed to face my parents” he admitted quietly, “and instead went over to the lake.”

“The water was troubled, odd ripples playing along the surface when I knew that no one else was around. I hardly noticed walking on the edge of the embankment until I saw my da’.” Spike turned his face away from Buffy to make sure that she couldn’t see the tears which welled up. He willed his voice to remain stoic, clenching his fists as he ground out the next words. “He just stared at me, a small body hanging in his arms. It took me a full minute to realise that it was my mother." Spike closed his eyes, knowing that now he had started this tale he needed to finish it. Buffy was the only other woman who knew besides Drusilla. Hopefully she wouldn't taunt him about it.

"It turns out that my mum had come looking for me just half an hour before and in one of her fits fallen into the water. By the time my father got to her, she had drowned…” Spike recalled the blue tinge to pale slanted cheeks which were all that he could see through tendrils of black thick hair. ‘The body’, as paramedics had referred to his mother, had already taken on the signs of rigor mortis, hands clawing the air in a final bid for life. Spike had collapsed to the ground, clutching at his hair as his father silently strode towards the house. That had been the last time he looked him in the eyes.

“God Spike… I’m so sorry.” Buffy reached for his hand, flinching slightly when it remained firm.

“As I said pet, it was a long time ago.” Spike slowly let his eyes meet hers, blue orbs the colour of polar ice daring her to pity him. Nothing anyone could say would make the man forget that her death was his fault. He expelled a breath of air from his chest, feeling like a weight had been lifted as Buffy enveloped him in a hug. Slowly the man let his body relax into her embrace.

He barely heard Buffy's question, taking a second to respond when she asked what his mum's name had been.

"Anne", he whispered quietly. "Her name was Anne."

Warning: this may give away the second part of this chapter but there is a sex scene with multiple partners. Just wanted to give you a heads up. Also please see the A/N at the bottom.

***

After Spike’s confession, the two had remained silent, dinner passing by with barely a comment made. Buffy had been cornered by Darla, Cordelia and another brunette who had been present at her introduction to the gang. It was difficult at first to feel accepted in their company, Darla having never spoken to her before Buffy became involved with Spike. It was a well known fact that the blond was colder than ice when dealing with new members. Only a select few out of the gang could claim to be actually liked by the woman.

The petite blond was uncertain whether she would ever fit into that clique… or if she even wanted to.

Now though she sat listening to all the gossip from LA, what the Master thought about some guy named Rack and a hundred other snippets of information. To say Buffy was overwhelmed would be an understatement. The women traditionally moved into one of the other rooms to talk during meals. This time, Buffy followed them in, taking in the cream couches and sky blue walls with a sigh of relief. The main meeting area clashed and had left her with a serious desire to repaint the entire house after sitting there on several occasions. She noticed that none of the other gang members dared go near the open door except for Jonathon and raised questioning eyes at Cordelia. The brunette smiled, pointing to Darla who caught the gesture.

“What?”

Buffy locked eyes with the other woman, knowing that in terms of rank she was the only one who could come close to Darla. The woman had been Angel’s first for longer than any of the other girls and was acknowledged as having the most control. Whilst Buffy would’ve screamed and raged at the thought of Spike keeping another girl on the side, Darla seemed to thrive in the environment, ordering Angel’s other concubines around and generally making sure that no cat fights broke out. The petite blond set down her plate on the ornate table before her and tried her best to appear non confrontational. Darla could take offense to anything. “Why do the other gang members shy away from this room?”

Darla smiled, doing her best to look welcoming. As long as Summers does not go near Angel, everything shall be fine. “Mainly because I don’t want them to,” she said softly. “In this room, all of the girls’ things can be kept without the threat of peering eyes or hands. It is obvious that Angel’s room is not big enough to hold all our items and it would also be awkward to slip in looking for a picture while the man is busy with someone else. I personally refuse to tolerate anyone interrupting me and thus had this place given solely to us. Jonathon is not really a threat and is allowed to come and go as he wants.” The cold blue eyes widened for a moment, transfixing Buffy with their luminosity. “Since you are Spike’s woman I feel it is only fair to extend you the same invitation. Fred is also welcome.” The woman raised a wine glass to her lips, sinking back into the chair in pleasure. It was obvious that she was comfortable with the arrangement, despite the fact that Angel would be taking another girl to their bed.

Buffy nodded, feeling sick.

Her head turned to see Spike pass the room, a frown plastered on his face as he followed Gunn.

Something was wrong.

Excusing herself, Buffy watched as all the other occupants in the room stared after the groups of men, each face mirroring similar expressions of curiosity and a hint of fear. Darla quickly took control, waving her hands off at Fred and Buffy as though they could leave when she bade them.

“Go and see what all the fuss is about” she declared haughtily. “I’ll talk to you later individually.” Her eyes sought Fred’s for a moment, making the slight brunette stand taller. A tank top covered her chest, the word ‘bitch’ emblazoned across the front. The girl merely nodded, before hurrying out.

Buffy quickly followed suit.

***

There was no other way to voice his disapproval other than scream. Angel was plainly not listening, continuing to outline the travel details despite his protests. Spike growled low in his throat, smashing his fist when Wes suggested that Buffy be taken in his car.

“NO BLEEDING WAY!”

Angel groaned, looking heavenwards as though a divine intervention would halt the upcoming argument. “Look Spike, I know that you hate this but we really have no other choice. You’re going to be busy with our appointment, and there’s no one else as good with the gun.” Angel leaned forward onto the table, cradling one side of his head with exhaustion. “Buffy will be safe this way.”

Spike snorted. “I don’t believe that for one fucking second Peaches.” Icy blue eyes glared at Wes, as the Brit flexed his muscles. “No offense Percy, but your about as calm and trustworthy as a sodding bull in a china shop. There is absolutely nothing you can say that would make me leave my woman with you.” His fist which still remained on the metal surface, unclenched only slightly but still drew relieved sighs from the other four men which watched. Spike was volatile at the best of times but his concern for the blond? More than one wondered how such a small woman had managed to replace Drusilla.

“Buffy will stay with the cheerleader and Gunn if she goes anywhere and that’s final” said Spike gruffly.

A chorus of shocked cries arose from around the table, Angel shouting for quiet when it did not die down for several minutes.

“Enough! If you really think it’s a good idea to take her to see the Master then be my guest Spike. I already told you that it would cause problems.”

“Its still better than leaving her with this bleeding ponce. Masters will know about her anyway.”

Angel shook his head at the bleached blonde’s logic. If only you knew.

***

Faith trembled for a moment, desperately willing herself to act nonchalant as she approached the front door. She’d broken every speeding law in the state trying to get back and was certain that the cops would’ve pulled her over if not for the distinctive licence plates. No one would dare pull over any of Parker’s vehicles. She had thrown Angel’s leather jacket into a side alley as she made her way up the long sidewalk. The early sunrise could be just seen on the horizon, lighting the side of the huge home and giving it a soft glow. Faith was certain that this was the one time, Parker’s base did not look like a prison.

Her heels seemed to make cracking noises along the pavement, an odd quiet causing the woman to feel uncertain and insignificant. Every part of the interior was sterile and cold, Abrams believing that comfort bred laziness. A part of her recognised the unspoken message: here Parker was god.

Hopefully he would go easy on her.

It had been Warren who’d called her phone, demanding that she get back to the base as soon as humanly possible. The sleaze’s voice was laced with worry and squeaked at odd intervals, all too apparent a warning that Parker was in a foul mood. Faith didn’t need to guess that it was because of the drop off’s failure. The party at Angel’s had informed her quite clearly that Parker had not only lost a major business partner but had also been ridiculed. The brunette could only roll her eyes at the fact that Parker was more pissed at Spike showing him up then the loss of valuable weapons.

Men could be incredibly childish.

The door barely made a sound as she forced her hand to knock on its surface. No one was allowed a key except for Parker and Forrest, his second in command. Most of the time it did not cause problems as Dru was rarely let out but it also unnerved the brunette. There was no way that she could ever be alone in the huge building without someone else being present. There was no privacy.

Faith’s dark eyes swept over the hallway’s occupants as some men blatantly ogled her chest. Though it was far safer to arrive topless than with a piece of Angel’s clothing wrapped around her, the woman still felt uncomfortable. Stripping had taught her how to act in front of men but the lights still remained dim and there was money at the end of a long night. Here, Faith was constantly perused.

The only time they stop is when Parker’s around.

She could just see Warren slinking around the sidelines, greedy eyes drinking up her appearance. He knew about her affair with Angel but wouldn’t dare say a word. Part of his silence was due to the terrible aftermath that would befall everyone if Parker found out. The other reason is because I fuck him.

The brunette swung her hips saucily, winking at the disgusting man before moving swiftly to her room. It would only hurt more if Parker found out that she had been loitering around after arriving home.

Just one of the sweet perks of being a mistress , she thought sarcastically. She could never truly make up her mind up about whether she had done the right thing. One part of her loved the danger involved and recognised that without Parker she would be nothing. However, that was always balanced by a large dosage of reality, normally presented in the form of Drusilla. Spike would never forgive her if he knew the games that they played. Faith shook her head, pushing up the thick mahogany door slowly. If word reached him of her show with Angel on the dance floor, the bleached blond would feel incredibly betrayed. After all, they both knew how much she hated the ‘ponce’. Lying to him at the Bronze was only going to bite her on the ass.

Faith stepped in, throwing off her three inch heels into the corner before regarding Drusilla. The woman was incredibly pale, thin arms and legs tangled together as she lay slumped in a chair. A sheer white gown covered her chest and the tops of her thighs yet Dru’s eyes remained vacant and empty. Faith sighed, catching sight of the used needle which was still clutched firmly in the younger girl’s left hand.

“You’ve been shooting up again, haven’t you?”

Dru swiveled her head, the thick black lipstick smeared and uneven. What hair that hadn’t been clawed out as the rush fled through her veins, hung in matted clumps down her back. The woman was obviously in the mood for punishment.

Faith gulped, unable to hide her growing sense of unease.

Sensing her lover’s discomfort, Dru swayed to her feet wobbling ungainly. It was difficult to control her movements after the amount of heroin she’d been given. Dru was aware that the king was being extra generous for a reason. The woman hoped that it had something to do with the chest of toys Robert had been ordered to drag in earlier – she just loved to play.

“I was lonely waiting for you”, she whispered petulantly, doe like eyes losing their appeal due to the red haze which surrounded each iris. “Besides, the king said that I could ride the dark horse. If you had been here earlier instead of having tea and biscuits with Daddy, we all could’ve had some fun.”

Dru held up her finger, halting any protests which Faith would more than likely spill. She could sing the words all she wanted, both women still knew she had been with Angel. Dru grinned, head tilting to the side as she appraised her consort. “Hush now my sweet. I won’t tell your secrets. It’s much too fun to see how they will all be revealed at the party.”

Dru’s arms snaked around Faith’s waist, clutching at her hips and kneading the bone. She knew all about the older woman’s plans but was aware that they couldn’t possibly come to fruition. There was no way that Daddy would ever let go of Spike – he’d loose far too much and Masters would shun him. Her bad dog was invaluable in terms of creating fear amongst rivals. Angel was nothing without William. Dru smirked; everyone could say that the man had moved on to some blond ball of sunshine all they wanted. In the end it didn’t matter. Dru was first amongst all the women he had ever touched and would always be most important. She found great pleasure in the knowledge that it would only take one cry for help and the bad dog would come running, throwing out that stupid girl on his way. Dru pushed her body fully against Faith, one hand moving down until it reached the girl’s crotch. Parker had said that he wanted to have some fun when Faith returned. The pale woman’s cheeks, slanted and hollow, only lifted as the footsteps of Parker sounded just behind them.

I hope the chains are ready.

“I see that you decided to come home.” Parker leant against the doorframe, bare chest dripping with water and both arms folded. The hair which normally appeared childish and floppy shone from his recent shower, plastering itself to his scalp. Both women watched the drops course down his neck and then trail downwards. Whilst Faith felt a sick feeling well in her stomach, Dru leapt at the opportunity, laving his chest and abdomen with her tongue before sucking on his throat. One hand still held Faith’s hip and dragged the scared woman to their keeper. Parker nodded his approval, loving the way Spike’s bitch rubbed herself against him wantonly. It made the loss of goods and money seem like nothing when he thought of the other man’s betrayed expression. His fingers curled into Faith’s dark hair, smashing his lips against her own. As long as he had these women at his beck and call, Spike could never truly shatter his calm. All I need to do now is add Summers to my collection.

Shoving Dru off roughly, Parker threw Faith back onto the bed. Her arms instinctually flew back, assuming the classic position that he had taught her to take whenever she was laid down first. It was one of the many postures and positions that the two women could perform, specifically for his enjoyment. Faith had taken longer to tame then Dru but in the end she obeyed. Parker could recall with relish the many beatings it had taken before the woman would bend to his will and submit fully. Sometimes he wished that she would fight back and give him a challenge.

Dru certainly loved to punish.

His dark princess stood to his side now, chains thick and heavy grasped tightly. They all knew what was going to happen and Parker relished the mood of excitement which hung in the air.

Moving on top of her, he forced her body into a spread eagled position, not having to ask for assistance as the other woman quickly shackled Faith’s limbs to the four posts. The harsh snapping of the locks around her skin only caused a slight flinch. Abrams grinned his approval before shoving his tongue down the girl’s throat.

“You shouldn’t have left Faith.” Parker whipped out a small pocket knife from his jeans, noting with satisfaction the way her eyes widened. “Now I’ll have to hurt you just that little bit more.” The edge of the blade skimmed along her top, cutting it finely with only a sharp nick cutting into her flesh.

Faith remained silent.

Her breath was the only sound she willingly made, whistling in and out of her mouth, at an ever increasing speed. She could feel Dru to her left, mumbling hungrily as she licked a path to her breast. Faith steeled herself for the customary bite, the roles had been reversed to many times to count with the pale brunette more often being the one chained. She could only hope that the woman took pity on her and did not force the blindfold to cover her eyes. Faith didn’t know whether she would be able to stand it if she couldn’t see what they were doing. As it was, she could barely suppress the need to scream. Parker was going to punish her badly for leaving.

The woman groaned in a mixture of pain and lust as Abrams ripped the cloth from her body and slid inside. She could hear Dru cackling in delight, rubbing her chest and arms which were stretched taunt. Spike’s bitch seemed happy enough to watch and not join into the full extent that was possible. Faith was incredibly thankful for it.

As Parker’s thrusts grew harder, Faith turned her head, disgusted by the look of pure ecstasy which washed over his face. Dru immediately pushed her body close, taking the older girl’s chin into her hands and gently kissing her.

Faith stared at her, not understanding what had brought forth the odd act of tenderness. “Dru?” she asked gently. “What is going on?”

Pale lips parted open, the dark heavy eyes betraying the girl’s emotions as a hand swept down her lover’s writhing bodies. “He says that it needs to be done”, she whispered. “You need to know that you belong to us. You’re ours.” Thick black hair fell across her face as suddenly Faith was flipped onto her back. The chains creaked with the pressure, cutting deeper into her hands as Parker removed the iron bonds which held her feet. Blood rushed past her ankles, inflaming them when Parker’s hands settled on her ass.

OH GOD.

Faith began to scream and thrash, body shaking with fear. She’d sworn that no one would ever touch her there. Not after the pain that her step father had caused when teaching her how to ‘please a man’. The woman’s movements became more desperate, tears flooding and soaking the pillow as Parker pried her legs open and began his descent.

Dru watched the scene quietly, kissing Faith’s cheek and neck as Parker ravaged her ass. The only thing keeping her from screaming at the sight was the drugs which still flowed through her veins. It was clear that the king was enjoying every moment of his conquest, slapping Faith’s back with an open palm as she cried her misery into the bed. There was nothing Drusilla could do for the woman, nor would she interfere even if she could. Her lover knew the price of breaking one of the rules. Faith had even encouraged Parker when Dru had been guilty of taking more of the candy than she should.

Somewhere in the woman she knew that this would change the dark voluptuous siren, twist her into a being completely new. Dru could only look forward to the changes. One lean finger dug sharply into the older woman’s thigh, causing her legs to jump and Parker to come.

It was a small mercy in the light of the rape which had just taken place.

I wonder whether she will go back for cake now, thought Dru blithely. She cackled in surprise when Parker withdrew and crashed his body down into hers.

Poor Spike doesn’t know what he’s missing.

…………………………………………………………………

A/N:
I want to apologise to everyone who reads this fic for the extremely late posting. RL has severely impacted my writing but it is still not fair for the readers. I can't always promise quick updates but I want everyone to know that the reviews that are written give me the impetus to continue. So, thankyou. Was this last sex scene too extreme?

My deepest apologies,

Will.

The house felt empty. Windows normally opened to let the sunlight stream in were locked and cut off by blinds, only the smallest streams of day filtering through. She didn’t bother to glance into any of the rooms and instead hide her face from the dust which gathered on unused surfaces.

Part of her still expected Buffy to walk back in the door and beg for mercy.

Every time she climbed the stairs Joyce would pause, waiting for the customary sound of Buffy’s footsteps, or voice. It always came as a surprise when her daughter did not appear from her bedroom, helping her up the stairs and washing away the smell of bar smoke and whiskey.

Since Buffy had left, Joyce had barely been able to survive.

Sleepless nights were only quelled by the familiar plumes of smoke, larger doses needed as insomnia threatened to overtake. There was a growing fear that soon nothing would be able to stop her sense of guilt or that omnipresent notion that she had done something wrong. It was an idea that could be easily dismissed normally, but now, Joyce quailed at the discovery that she’d neglected her only daughter.

Hank would kill her.

It was well known that her husband, esteemed and beloved, had regularly beat their daughter until she could hardly see. The others expected it after commenting on the girl’s behaviour. Buffy had never truly learned to live to the expectations that their previous life had entailed. She’d been desperate to behave like a normal girl, go out to parties without the shadow of body guards and most importantly date who she choose. Joyce’s auburn hair shook at the memory of Hank’s ire. After that day Buffy never dared to speak back.

Just one of the reasons they’d been shipped off to Sunnydale. Hank had trouble dealing with their daughter’s willfulness and like everyman she’d ever known, blamed it on her. Maybe her addiction and investment in the crack industry had had a negative effect on the girl’s development but Joyce was positive that she wasn’t completely to blame. It wasn’t her fault if Buffy didn’t want the responsibility. The girl was just an idiot.

She choked back a sob as she watched the wind blow the door open; still no sign of her daughter.

Joyce could recall the easy acceptance of her daughter when the night’s adventures would find their way to the kitchen floor. Dizzy spells were always met with a calm of someone far older. It had taken her absence for the addict to realise that she’d come to rely on Buffy.

How ironic. I’m just like her father.

Hank never called to see how they were, that would have been too beneath him and instead was the job of one of his minions. Joyce had never met them, the men never bothering to introduce themselves. The contents of her drink spilled to the floor, causing Joyce to snort with laughter. She must be drunk if she thought that anyone would play up to her. You used to be important Joycie, remember that. Buffy was the reason she’d been forced to live in this god forsaken town and also the one person that still kept her alive. They’d been searching for the blond little girl for a long time but as always Hank remained stubborn. Unless they reinstated him to his former glory, Elizabeth’s location would remain secret. Now that her daughter had gotten tied up with that Spike character and the Aurelius, the secret would be ousted all too quickly.

Joyce was determined to be drunk when that day came.

Her eyes, dull and raw stared down at the dark liquid, swishing it from side to side of the glass. When the woman had been able to get home, Buffy would, without fail, have something waiting on the stove or at least fresh clothes. There had been attempts to keep the girl away from those endearing little packets of coke or the dried leaves of Mary Jane but ultimately had been found out.

Buffy’s horrified face flashed again and Joyce tossed the glass to the floor, not even flinching when it shattered.

Parker’s thugs came daily to see her now.

***
The mansion in Crawford Street remained relatively silent as the early morning once again roused its inhabitants. Many still groaned into their pillows and for some, even the floor, as they realised that Angel would soon be awake and call the customary meeting.

The stone courtyard which jutted out from the right of the building, soaked what little rays it could, with heavy shadows still lingering to the west of the gang’s home. Nearly all the windows were shuttered off in a poor attempt to prevent the inevitable dawn. All that is, except for one lone window which remained open, allowing the tiniest light to filter down on the sleeping couple.

Stirring Angel reached for the warm body next to him, dragging it closer and breathing in her scent. His mind registered with slight annoyance that it was not Darla but another girl in her stead. He groaned still not opening his eyes as he mused over the week’s events. Since the argument with Spike, they’d barely spoken, making their hatred of each other before the Brit joined the gang seem like nothing. I’ll have to let him take her , he thought with annoyance. Either that, or we’ll all face Masters questions. It would be considered a major insult if Spike did not turn up at the overlord’s party. He didn’t want to think what the repercussions might be.

Angel grinned when two soft arms curled around his waist. Whoever the girl was, she obviously liked him. The gang leader stretched onto his back, breathing out a deep sigh of contentment as he finally opened his eyes. Loose waves of chocolate colored hair covered his chest, tickling his ribs. Angel blinked in surprise. Ever since his dance with Faith, Cordelia had shunned him like the plague. He’d nearly gone seeking other company when his bed remained empty for nigh on a week. Darla had agreed that he should not have anything to do with Faith and staged a small revolt. Looks like she got over it, thought Angel with a smug grin. I knew she couldn’t stay angry at me forever. He moved his hand over her nude body, feeling a wave of possessive pride course through him. As far as the dark brunette was concerned, Cordelia’s appearance only reinforced his view that no one could go against him, or dare think of leaving. The man failed to notice the sad eyes which flickered open to gaze up at him, before pretending to sleep once more.

I’ll let the men sleep a little longer.

Unbeknownst to the gang leader, another of his women also lay sleeping beside her partner. Leah had joined some weeks before Buffy and came from the slums. Her complexion was African American with long braids which trailed down to her hips. Angel had rescued her from mediocrity, taking one long look before declaring her as his. She shivered when remembering Jacob’s broken expression. He was the one who originally had convinced her to come to Sunnydale with him. If not for the dominating presence of Aureli, Leah may well have ended up belonging to Jacob. Her head fell back onto the pillow, mouth gasping as the Irishman placed kisses down her chest and stomach. She had resolved herself to the realisation that their relationship was nothing more than cold comfort. But sometimes, she still wondered ‘what if?’

The woman had no idea that not more than a few rooms down the hall, another man pondered the same question.

Gunn stared bitterly into his mug of cocoa. The thick dark liquid swirled, burning his mouth and overall proving a poor distraction. He’d added some marshmallows after Spike suggested it the other night, but found that nothing could block out the passionate cries of Fred and Wesley. In a cruel twist of fate, the timid brunette had gone back to the Englishman, claiming that he understood her better. Gunn laughed humorously at the thought. Wesley didn’t have a caring bone in his body and most definitely did not give a damn about Winifred. He set the mug on his bedside table before jamming his fingers into his ears as the thumps grew louder. The man within him demanded that he intervene, kill the son of a bitch and make Fred realise that he loved her. It didn’t take into account the problems that would arise from such an action, only the fact that Fred would finally be his. No more sharing.

Gunn stretched back against the headboard. He’d been desperately repressing the urge ever since she walked out of his bedroom and into the next. The only thing keeping him back was the knowledge that she would never forgive him. Wesley, however sick and twisted, was important to her.

Just like Spike, who upon learning of Dru’s infidelities had begged her to come back, Gunn held his tongue and watched. Or listened, to be more accurate , he thought bitterly. I really need to get some ear plugs. Hands grappled for a pillow, hiding his head beneath it and hoping to drown out some of the betrayal which sounded through the wall.

This has to end.

Far away from the heartache of the other rooms, a petite blonde also lay curled against her lover, though without the depression her friend suffered. They had spent the entire night together, only falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. Buffy sensed that it had something to do with Spike’s confession about his mother. He treated her differently now, odd bashful smiles replacing the confident smirk she was familiar with. It made her wonder what other people had done after hearing the story. Obviously there had been some ridicule or fallout. Buffy resolved not to use it against him ever. I’d be lucky if he didn’t go on a rampage, after hearing about my family.

Her heart began to pump faster as she slowly moved down his chest. Last night had opened her eyes to a completely different aspect of Spike. He’d come into the room late after playing a round of poker with some of the other gang members. It was a customary informal gathering, more of a chance for them to drink and relax rather than play seriously. She’d caught him muttering about kittens and unfair strategies and asked whether he was ready for bed.

The look Spike had given her still sent shivers down her spine.

Stalking towards her, the man had shed his clothes with barely a care. The heavy black duster had been first, falling into a heap as he shrugged it off his shoulders. Tight muscles flexed enticingly as the red shirt he wore slid off to rest near the black leather.

flashback

Buffy slowly backed up, surprised at the glint of desire which flickered in twin blue orbs. Why is he looking at me like that? Her breath caught in her throat as long lean fingers undid the belt, Spike wrapping it around her waist before dragging her close.

“Are you really all that tired luv?” Spike’s tongue curled behind his teeth as his hips moved forward of their own accord. His mouth, already curling into a smirk, widened at the small shake of her head. “I’m glad”, he whispered softly. “Don’t want you to be sleepy before I even start.”

Buffy’s eyebrow arched in confusion; what was he planning? “Start what?” she asked.

Spike’s leer grew to gigantic proportions. This was going to be delicious. “You’ll see pet.” He silenced further questions with a rough kiss, nibbling at her bottom lip and then sucking it into his own mouth. The bleached blond groaned appreciatively, when she responded, one hand cradling the back of her head gently.

When the need to breathe became too great, Spike broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down her neck and shoulder. He could feel Buffy’s small hands, pushing the hem of his black t shirt up and decided to strip. See if this doesn’t wake the chit up.

Stepping back, Spike pulled the shirt up and over his chest, inch by aching inch. He could hear his love’s gasp as tossing the shirt away, he undid the zipper which hid his aching erection.

Buffy was speechless.

“Cat got your tongue luv?”

Spike’s hand reached down, stroking the hot flesh up and down slowly. He could feel the petite blonde’s eyes on him and grinned mercilessly. Moving towards her, in the same manner as before, the Brit pushed Buffy gently back onto the bed. Her legs instantly parted and he kneeled between them, working at the buttons on her jeans. From now on, she’s going to wear skirts Spike resisted the desire to simply ripe the confining clothes from her and only after several excruciatingly long minutes, deposited the hated jeans on the floor.

“I like these kitten” said Spike as he gazed on the thin red g string which was all that separated him from his prize. He could already smell Buffy’s musk, and licked his lips at the thought of what she would taste like.

Spike’s eyes connected with jade as he curled two fingers into her tight quim and pushed up. Buffy immediately arched in response, her chest still covered by a tight shirt and bra. She didn’t know what the man had in mind, but if he didn’t do something, she was likely to scream. The woman silenced her inner voice which slyly reminded her that no matter what she would end up calling out Spike’s name at the top of her lungs.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, when Spike removed his soaked fingers and licked them clean.

“Delicious.”

Buffy only shuddered in response.

Seeing the effect he was having on the petite blonde’s senses, Spike dipped his head down to the apex between her thighs. The thong was absolutely drenched with nervous shivers running up and down both lean thighs. The man struggled to control his desire, running the tip of his tongue around the outer edges when Buffy’s hands grabbed hold of his hair.

“Please Spike. Please… I need…”

“Need what pet?” Spike blew hot air against her quim, loving the way her hands tried to push him closer. Kitten wants it bad. He pressed his palm against her clit before pinching it lightly. “C’mon, tell Spike what you want.”

Buffy intertwined her fingers in short platinum locks desperately. “Please kiss me.”

”Where pet?” asked Spike. He knew that she had not been touched before him but this shyness was unexpected. When his spitfire didn’t answer, he took pity on her. He nibbled on her inner thigh, flicking her clit lightly as she gasped. “Is this where you want to be kissed pet?”

Buffy shook her head. “Go higher.”

Spike grinned, licking at her hip bone. “Am I close now?”

“Kind of”, she whispered. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, Spike’s hand still pressing and pinching that special part of her that she had barely ever touched. She sighed when Spike’s lips touched the top of her mound.

“How close am I luv?”

“Very close.”

Spike nodded, brushing his nose down her slit as her hands dragged his face forward. He didn’t have a chance to ask her whether he was in the right spot before she placed his face firmly between her thighs.

This is bloody heaven.

His tongue moved in ever tightening circles around her pearl, nipping at the sensitive nub at intervals. Buffy’s legs continued to tighten around him as the girl writhed on the bed. Even if another man touched her, they would never be able to best him. Spike delved his tongue deep inside when he felt her small feet rub down his spine. God I love this girl.

He buried his tongue as deeply inside as possible as ever so quickly a tremble began to race across Buffy’s body. The nectar which flowed, coated his mouth, tasting like something akin to raspberries and honey. Spike arched his tongue before replacing it with his fingers as the quaking increased.

Looking up he could see Buffy’s flushed cheeks and starry expression, delight washing over her mouth as she gazed at him.

The man was nothing if not a sexual being.

Buffy smiled, licking her lips at the slanted cheek bones and sensual lips which were covered with her dew. He would bathe in it if he could, she thought with surprise. Her body shuddered with the beginnings of climax as Spike slowly dipped his head back down, keeping eye contact with her the entire time.

Her fingers clawed into the bed coverlet, crying out in abandon as Spike’s mouth drove her to ecstasy. It only took one more nip at her clit before the petite blonde’s orgasm ripped through her, Spike’s name being screamed so loud, the entire house could hear.

end flashback

Buffy grinned, tongue sliding lazily over the man’s jutting hip bone. Spike had given her only a minute to recover before he thrust into the hilt, making her come a second time. The time spent after had been filled with repeated actions and whispered caresses, filling with her an unexpected calm. He might never tell her the words again but at least Spike showed it.

Sated, the woman rested her head on her lover’s thigh, pulling the sheet’s down to her level. Hopefully he’ll wake up before Peaches , she thought buoyantly. “That way, I can get a repeat performance.”

The ‘training room’ as the gang called it, was centered to the back of the mansion and consisted of a space easily three times the size of a garage. One wall boasted a series of weights, ranging from twenty pounds to masses Buffy was certain no one could lift. Another wall was covered from top to bottom with numerous weapons that most certainly would have featured in the movies. Why do they need an axe that big?

Spike had insisted after a very late breakfast, that he begin her training, making an excuse that he needed a release. The man had grabbed a bundle of clothes from his closet and raced downstairs once more, only stopping when he reached heavy metal doors.

Buffy had watched as her lover pushed her into the wide room, talking about it the same way a child would about his favourite toy.

The floor was concrete, hard and unforgiving yet she noticed that mats normally used for gymnastics were leant up against the side door. When Spike’s hands reached up and took two down, she sighed in relief. At least I won’t bust my head open.

Though her life in LA had been fraught with the constant threat of danger, Buffy herself had never learned proper self defence. Her godfather Merrick had taken it upon himself to instruct her what little knowledge she could understand, but ultimately it had never been enough. As she had grown older, it had become more difficult for them to see each other and thus what little skills that could have flourished under his guidance, died. Her father was never told of the lessons. Hank had thought it ‘entirely inappropriate’ for a woman and enlisted bodyguards to watch her constantly instead. Buffy recalled fearing them instantly. Dark, heavy men in casual clothes had been her common accompaniment to school plays, social outings and every place imaginable. If they couldn’t go somewhere then cameras were used to watch for ‘odd characters’. Buffy had never truly understood her father’s words until a man had approached her. The memory was dim, Buffy being only six at the time yet she remembered the odd sound of his voice. She’d been skating at an ice rink with her bodyguard, Nathan, watching from the sidelines when the incident occurred. Neither Nathan, nor his partner Luke, had seen the man’s approach as anything unusual, and thus did not become concerned when he skated ever closer to her.

Buffy intent on some child’s game had been twirling in circles, when her left skate wobbled uncertainly. She paid no attention to the near fall the first time and continued to circle merrily, arms splayed wide in excitement. The second time she went over the pit, the toe of her skate dug into the gash and pitched her forward. Buffy was certain that she would’ve landed face first into the cold ice floor except for the hands which held her waist. Surprised at her close tumble, hazel eyes looked down to see the cause of her accident. A deep gash in the ice from some earlier stunt crossed the floor and trailed on for two feet. Her head shot back up as the stranger lifted her into the air as though to inspect her.

“Are you alright little one?”

Buffy nodded uncertainly. The man spoke oddly, his words coming out stiff and polished compared to the way her father sometimes talked. Despite this, it was slightly familiar. Buffy grinned back at her rescuer when she realised who he sounded like.

Merrick.

One hand moved to look at the earring which sat in his right ear with surprise. Only her mommy put jewellery on as far as she knew. Tilting her head forward, Buffy relaxed completely in the strong grip.

”Do you know my godfather?” she asked. It seemed like an entirely plausible question at the time. Anyone who talked like her godfather had to know him.

The man nodded, a grim expression crossing his face. “I’ve dealt with the blighter.” He tightened his hold around the girl’s waist, knowing that this was the one thing they all cared about more than anything else. Let’s see how they like losing all their money when she’s dead. “What’s your name?”

Buffy smiled immediately, proud that she could pronounce her full title. It had taken a while what with the need to give false ones if odd people asked. “Elizabeth Anne Summers-Masters” she replied. “But you can call me Buffy. What’s yours?”

The warm grin which the stranger had been sporting turned into a sneer. “Ripper” he responded coldly. “The gents call me Ripper.” He began to squeeze her ribs, knowing that it would only take a minute before she fell limp in his arms. Children always passed out quicker. “By chance, dove, does anyone ever call you the Chosen one?”

Scared she nodded dumbly. Buffy’s bottom lip trembled and tried to struggle out of the punishing grip. Her lungs were burning with the need for air. Desperately, she swung her skate upwards, kicking at the man’s chest and slashing the shirt open. Blood poured from the wound and on reflex the man dropped her. His hand immediately clutched at the increasingly soaked shirt and growled in frustration. Stupid bloody chit! He made a move towards the symbol of his former bosses when the lumbering slides of bodyguards sounded behind him. Too risky , he thought in anger. He would just have to pay Hank and the others back another way. Ripper didn’t once look down at the shaken girl he’d released, instead running off to the exit.

Thinking back, Buffy couldn’t recall Nathan and Luke ever catching the man.

Buffy jumped in surprise as Spike threw the mats onto the concrete floor. The bleached blond was the only person who truly protected her from anything and even he was nothing against the power of her past. It was only a matter of time before things came to a head and he would push her away. To do anything else would be suicide. Buffy resolved that when that day came she would be able to stand her own ground. Protect herself. The terror of that day when added to by Hank’s beatings had made her desperate to avoid future abuse. I’m tired of being the victim.

Taking a step forward, Buffy watched her lover bounce excitedly in anticipation. She had remained unsure of whether he would live up to his promise and teach her how to fight. Even offering to instruct placed him far above Hank in her esteem.

She smiled as Spike took a stand three feet in front of her, pulling his fists up in a classic fighting gesture. He swayed slightly on the balls of his feet, black sweatpants replacing the normal tight Levis. A white wife beater hung off a well muscled chest making Buffy stare in appreciation. No matter how well acquainted she had become with his body, the sight still left her breathless. Spike had been more than surprised when waking to find her head cradled on his thigh and ever since maintained a dopey smile on his face. Buffy could see the Brit struggling to banish it even now. His jaw ticked for a full moment before gesturing at her to take the same posture.

“C’mon pet, I haven’t got all bloody day.” Spike grinned as Buffy’s gentle mood vanished. He was intent on stirring her up. Part of it was because she was sodding gorgeous when pissed at him but also due to his belief that it would make her fight better. Some people were far better fighters when they remained calm. Isolating themselves from the immediacy of the situation allowed such people to perform better, target the right weaknesses. Anger simply made their punches widen and loose accuracy. The poofter was a perfect example of such a style. Unless the man became extremely irritated, there was not much anyone could do to best the git. Angel treated fist fights the exact same way he treated interrogation and torture: make the opponent sweat and bleed until they beg for death and then really hurt them. Peaches golden rule was to never loose his composure.

Unfortunately Spike excelled at driving the gang leader insane. Many considered it his greatest talent.

At first the bleached blond had been certain that Buffy fitted into the same category as Angel. In all the time that she’d been a student at Sunnyhell High there had never been an incident where she lost control or lashed out. If anything Summers melted into the garbling mass of teenagers in order to appear inconspicuous. Spike had no idea what her purpose could be but the fact remained that she had tried in the first place. An oddity in itself. He realised now that it was all a façade. The moment that she’d felt justly threatened, the bint had kicked both Angel’s and his shins to hell.

Spike swiftly moved back as Buffy aimed a kick at his face.

“Now that’s more like it!” He smirked at her with undisguised lust as she lunged for him with her fists. Kitten has claws. Spike slowly moved back from her onslaught, studying her fists as they came ever closer. She’s favouring her right too much. Azure eyes swept down her body before squinting in pain when a fist popped him in the nose.

“Bleeding hell that hurt!”

Buffy glared at him, small hands resting atop her hips as the ‘Big Bad’ bent over in pain. “That’ll teach you to check me out when I’m punching near your head.” She flung back her hair in mimicry of one of those hair shampoo adds. “Who knew that William the Bloody was nothing but a big girl?”

Spike immediately stood upright. “Take that back!” he said with just a hint of anger.

”Let me think about this. How about… no.” The petite blond watched in fascination as the vein along the bleached blonde’s jaw ticked in irritation.

“You’re playing with fire Summers.”

Buffy widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Really? I thought I was getting self defense lessons.” She stared heavenward, giggling inwardly when Spike growled at her actions. “I guess that I’ll just have to leave and find someone else to teach me.”

Spike jumped in front of her, halting any half hearted attempt to leave the training room.

“You sure you wanna dance pet?” The man’s eyes, light blue the colour of ice, bored deep into her, looking as though they could see everything that she desperately kept hidden. She shivered at the thought, noting that his voice carried a hint of seriousness and also incredible desire. “Once we start, I can’t hold back.”

Spike watched her hesitate, and couldn’t resist brushing his mouth against her ear. “You know you want to Summers, dancing with me would completely blow you away. New experiences with me always do.”

“But I thought that all we’ve ever done is dance.” Buffy’s voice came out soft and far more seductive than she had intended, which unfortunately Spike noticed.

The sweat pants he wore suddenly became too tight.

Cursing, the gangster backed away from her. “Touché pet. Now let’s see whether you’ve got the stones.”

Buffy lashed out with her left hand, hoping to knock off the smirk which appeared to be permanently etched onto his face. “Do I have the stones he asks”, her breath puffed out with her exasperation. “Of course I do… I have lots of stones.”

“I sincerely hope not Summers.” Spike blocked the oncoming attack before flipping backwards onto the second mat, “could become just a tad awkward in the bedroom, if you get my drift.” He fell to the ground gracefully as Buffy swung a full roundhouse kick at his chest. Chit’s good at this for a first timer. The Brit groaned as Buffy firmly kicked his shin. The woman may not know the finer points of combat but she could definitely win a fight using that foot of hers.

“What’s the matter Spikey? Are you hurting too much to continue?”

“No you bloody woman. Just wasn’t prepared to feel a Beckham inspired kick anywhere close to the jewels. Promise me that you won’t put that infernal foot of yours anywhere near the balls and chain.”

Buffy’s face twisted comically at Spike’s metaphor. “Ewwww… of course not.” Her mouth curved into a coy smile. “I happen to like the uh ‘balls and chain’.” She tried not to cringe at the way her words came out. She had never been good at flirting. Now was no exception.

She squealed in surprise as Spike tackled her to the floor, kissing her senseless. Small fragments of sentences came out as his mouth darted from her lips to her throat, ‘wonderful bloody women’ being repeated in alternating intervals. His hands threaded themselves into her hair, whilst the thumbs stroked her cheeks. Guess I’m not so bad at this innuendo thing after all she thought happily. Buffy gasped as Spike’s lips moved further down her chest, nibbling on the top of her breast.

“Will? Are you in here?” Angel’s voice broke the moment as Buffy quickly scrambled upright.

Spike looked just as annoyed as she felt, grumbling to himself yet doing nothing to hide the burgeoning erection he was sporting. Buffy blushed in embarrassment as the gang leader popped his head around the doorway. Maybe he won’t know what we’ve been up to, she thought desperately. Maybe Angel will think we were wrestling… Buffy ignored her inner voice which commented on her racing heartbeat and more than slightly damp panties. She could deal with the lusty thoughts later; right now she stared at a man who very nearly had claimed her as his. The red in her cheeks flamed as the large brunette made a wolf whistle.

You really have to stop hoping for miracles Summers.

“If I’d known you were busy I never would’ve interrupted William.”

Spike snorted, knowing that the wanker was lying. “Whatever you say Peaches, I can’t say that I haven’t done the same to you and the cheerleader.” He stepped in front of Buffy, shielding her from the inspecting gaze of Angel. “What is it that you want?”

The gang leader shrugged. “Just thought we could spar” he offered. “There hasn’t been much time to get down here and just fight, and well I need the exercise.”

“I can see that” said Spike before turning his back on the poofter and focusing all his attention on Buffy. Her lips were plump from his kisses and her golden hair was disheveled. Bloody interrupting wanker. “Are you alright with me and Peaches having a go at each other? I promise that we’ll finish up our lesson later.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, not bothering to hide the affection which welled in his eyes.

Buffy nodded, “as long as I get to watch.” She moved back to the far side of the wall as Spike grabbed both mats and settled them back in their previous positions. She had no idea how far they would go during this ‘practice’ but began to feel worried. Spike had nowhere near the same weight as Angel and could easily get pounded into the floor if he let the heavy brunette corner him.

Spike, detecting her worry, winked at her. Peaches could act like the leader all he wanted. In the end it didn’t really affect who could beat the other into submission. As long as he played his cards right the poofter would soon be laying on the ground bleeding.

It was a sight that Spike was certain he would never tire of.

The Brit turned his attention to his leader as Angel stalked into the room. The button down shirt was already half removed and prompted Spike to pull off his own white beater. Peaches must be pretty intent on kicking my ass.

Everyone had noticed the palpable tension which flowed throughout the house and wisely stayed away from him and the poof. The bleached blond would have been more than happy to return to their usual relationship of snark and brooding except for the fact that Angel kept trying to control his actions concerning Buffy. The car incident had opened his eyes to the wanker’s prominent jealousy and also fear. As long as Spike kept Buffy as his, Angel would continue to wheedle and manipulate the situation to best suit himself.

Spike would be buggered before that happened.

He cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as they began to circle one another.

“Have you missed me Peaches?”

Angel darted back as Spike aimed a flurry of punches at his chest. Already the Brit was trying to make him angry. Remain calm.

He wheezed as one connected right underneath his rib cage. “About as much as I love the IRS Spike.” Angel shoved his elbow into the smaller man’s jaw and grinned as Will’s head snapped back. “I think that it’s you who can’t live without me.”

Spike spat in contempt. Angel obviously thought that one lucky shot could completely unnerve him. “Whatever floats your boat. I’m not the one who has to resort to the sodding cheerleader for company.” He lashed out with one foot, spinning on his heel as it connected with Angel’s ribs. “Oh I forgot! She decided that she didn’t want a piece of you after that incident with Faith.”

“You know nothing about that.”

“Oh don’t I?” Spike rolled as Angel grabbed hold of his ankle, seeking to snap the bone.

“No” roared Angel. What had started as a way to release his anger was quickly becoming another of their famous clashes. Normally the whole gang would watch silently, not daring to shout out for their favourite. The brunette wiped away the blood which lobbed from a gash on his cheek. He was relieved that for once they could fight privately. It was an unspoken agreement between all the occupants of the room that Buffy would not breathe a word of their argument.

The gang leader never noticed Jacob slink into the room.

Buffy however did.

Hazel eyes stole a glance in the Irishman’s direction before quickly returning back to the sweating forms of Spike and Angel. She had not spoken to Jacob since the interrogation of Riley and was uncertain of how to react to him. Buffy was open to trusting people, despite obvious faults but his lust for bloodshed had frightened her.

How could a person go from being gentle and quiet one moment, to asking for another’s death the next?

The woman shuddered when Jacob walked over and leaned against the wall beside her.

It was hard for her to not classify a person as either good or evil. After her upbringing, the teachings of Merrick had been ingrained into her psyche. Men, like her father, or in similar business could not be trusted. By default that meant that her god father also was a subject of suspicion but neither Buffy nor Merrick had ever voiced the fact.

Now that she was once again caught in the same type of lifestyle, Buffy felt all her old fears come back to life. Jacob represented her father’s taciturn mannerisms in a way that was striking. The lust for violence only completed his mimicking of Hank. It was a struggle not to dismiss him and instead try to find some source of humanity.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Buffy turned to regard the Irishman who stoically continued to stare at her lover and Angel.

“It wasn’t my intention, but I thought that you would be comfortable to deal with that side of the demon.”

Buffy looked at Jacob in confusion. “The demon? ”

“Aye. It’s a saying of Angel’s that we’ve all slowly adopted. In this line of business there has to be something inside that drives you to commit certain acts, otherwise you wouldn’t survive. Aureli likens it to a malignant force, a demon if you will. The name for Angel suggests that it’s not really him committing the deed.”

Buffy nodded. “What about you?”

Jacob struggled with the question for a moment, as though surprised that she had asked. “I think it’s a fairly dumb idea but have on occasion found myself partaking to the name. I know I’m a man, I will die soon enough and there’s no point pretending to be immortal. I think that is what messes with Angel so much. He’s constantly busy trying to amass wealth and not anger Masters and on top of all that there’s the constant threat to his life. The only way that he can release all that anger and frustration is to kill someone. By letting that ‘demonic’ part of him out, he’s able to keep a clear head. Every person has a darker nature to them. Not all can control it. Angel is one of those people who utilises it to make money.”

“Of course afterwards there’s always the womenfolk’s fear. Darla has learned to deal with it but that lass Cordelia? She’s not faring too well. The girl can’t seem to accept her notion of Angel with the one that slashes throats.” Jacob took note of Buffy’s horrified expression with a sigh. He hadn’t considered her being this naïve. “Why do you think he’s so well known? Angel has always liked seeing people suffer. Even has a reputation for special ways to do lads in. What he did to Finn that day was nothing compared to other instances. The only reason he stopped was because of your man Spike. And don’t think that the bleached captain is clean either.”

Buffy ignored the obvious lead in. Spike will tell me in his own time. “So in your frame of thinking, it takes a ‘special’ kind of person to be in a gang?”

“Not so much special as monstrous.” Eyes the colour of dead grass suddenly transfixed her. “What do you think?”

“I don’t really know”, admitted Buffy. She broke eye contact and decided that the ground was far more interesting to look at. “I haven’t really seen anything like what happened to Riley before.” The petite blond ignored her inner voice which screamed LIAR! “At least Spike controls his anger.”

Jacob laughed quietly at that statement. The Summers girl was so incredibly juvenile when it came to the man that shared her bed. “Look at him for a minute and tell me whether you really mean that.”

Buffy bit back her comment. Jacob was being oddly forthcoming and she wasn’t about to loose this precious chance, all because he was acting condescending. Obediently she took in the sight before her and shivered.

Spike had forced Angel to the ground, locking the man in a sleeper hold that was guaranteed to cut off his supply of oxygen. The larger brunette’s legs were slumped on the floor and only made sharp movements when Spike jerked Angel’s head. She could see a bloody trail that flowed down from the bleached blonde’s nose as a result of either a punch or head butt. Buffy could see Spike’s response in the other man’s face, with one eye swelled shut.

“Doesn’t look too calm now”, remarked Jacob. He could see that Angel was faltering and decided that this would be his last chance relatively alone with the girl. Spike had made certain that they did not converse after finding them seated together during Riley’s punishment. It was likely to be at least another month before he could talk to her again.

Pushing himself off the wall, Jacob watched as Buffy started to move towards the pair, no doubt intending to intervene. The Irishman grabbed hold of her hand, firmly holding it until she whirled to face him.

“What do you want now?”

“I have just one more thing to say.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. She had no idea what to make of Jacob O’Hara but one thing was for certain. He did not want her to be with Spike. She tapped her foot restlessly before snapping at him. “Spit it out!”

“He wasn’t always like that” said Jacob pointing over at Spike who had now released Angel and was looking in their direction. “It was Dru that changed him.” He noted with relish the questioning look which crossed over the girl’s features and decided that his work had been done. Just as easily as he had slid into the room, Jacob left, leaving a very uncertain Buffy staring after him.

Who the hell is Dru?

I really shouldn’t be here.

The thought kept repeating itself the entire ten minutes it took to finally raise her hand and knock on the door. The day at school had come close to being her worst in five years and the fact that Buffy hadn’t turned up was a major factor. The red head was more than slightly worried that her best friend would never again attend Sunnydale High’s nightmarish halls and well for Willow that was unacceptable… no way was she going to suffer with only Harmony for entertainment.

Willow’s knuckles barely had touched the hard surface when Jonathon pried the door open and looked her up and down. The geek’s eyes made her want to wrap herself in a gigantic canvas.

“What in the name of Han Solo are you doing here?”

Willow cringed, nervously tucking long red hair behind her ears. I knew this was a mistake. Seeing her former nemesis from chess club in the doorway of one of the west coast’s most infamous gangs was nothing if not a massive warning sign, complimented by acme like symbols of ‘do not enter’. The neon lights were already flashing like mad in her brain. Willow smoothed her tartan skirt and forced her face to mirror something similar to calm.

“Spike said I could come visit Buffy anytime I wanted.”

Jonathon shrugged indifferently. He loved to play up being a member but in reality he had little say in any deals. Just seeing the top student sweat in fear was enough for him. He silently moved aside to let her pass, taking in the white knee high socks. If only she would consider wearing leather , he thought wistfully.

The mansion was far bigger than she had previously imagined, a wide hallway branching off to a large kitchen on her right and a lounge room with the weirdest colour scheme imaginable. On the left, a long corridor trailed down, numerous doors indicating that many more people lived in the house than Willow had suspected. Her mouth fell open at the sweeping staircase which connected to the second floor. Buffy is so lucky.

Willow darted a glance over at Jonathon, who, apathetically was jogging to catch the latest episode of Stargate SG1. It was the one show that others had allowed him to watch after Jacob chucked a fit over Scotty’s accent. Claims that the actor was faking it had quickly descended into an all out brawl and of course broken the screen. One of the conditions ever since had been the banning of all science fiction shows except for Stargate. Jonathon considered himself lucky.

The little man remained oblivious to the calculating way Willow studied the room. It was shameful to admit but she hadn’t come specifically to check up on Buffy. Rather she had come to the gang’s abode to spy.

Though Xander had not suggested it as such, Willow was not so blind as to not realise that her crush was asking/bribing her to investigate her best friend’s current residence. Sure it sounded squeaky clean on the phone but now Willow wasn’t so sure.

What if Buffy’s family didn’t know about her location for a reason?

And if that reason was indeed as awful as the red head was coming to suspect, then had she betrayed Buffy?

Willow stepped into the kitchen, determined not to answer those questions.

That would only make the consequences real.

She jumped in surprise as a arm dragged her in.

“Lookie who we have here… Little Miss Rosenberg snooping around.” Darla let go of Willow’s hand, backing up until she stood in line with Cordelia. She had never trusted the red head after Willow became friends with Harris. There was something too naïve about the girl for her own good. Blue eyes watched in dismay as Cordelia launched herself into the dork’s arms and began to hug. This is so pathetic. Seeking to interrupt the weird little reunion and also the odd display of emotion Darla tugged on Cordelia’s shoulder, reminding her of the oddity of Willow’s presence.

Taking in the questioning look of her matriarch Cordelia turned to her best friend and smiled gently. “What are you doing here? I thought that you wanted nothing to do with gangs and all that.”

“You guys all ditched school” offered Willow nervously. She had no real reason to be here. This was such a bad idea.

Seeing through the poor excuse Darla glared. “And?”

“And I just wanted to check that everything was okay… I don’t get to see you guys regularly and I missed you.”

Darla snorted. “You don’t actually believe her do you?” She tossed her shorn locks back imperiously and gazed at the two taller girls. Everything in her body was screaming not to trust Willow. Something was not right.

Cordelia however didn’t agree.

“How about you stop being such a bitch for once?” retorted Cordy with just a tinge of her former attitude. “Wills is completely trustworthy.”

The brunette turned her back on Darla, enjoying the feeling of being in control even if she would pay for it later. She quickly linked arms with Willow and started pulling her in the direction of Buffy’s rooms. She had finished her tutoring session with Spike in the training room late that morning and since been going through the man’s CDs. Every time a particular song came on that the blonde couldn’t stand, there would be a dramatic pause before the horrible sounds of a case hitting the trash can. The entire gang was amazed that Spike hadn’t torn out his hair in frustration and put a stop to it. Jonathon had been threatened with a knife when he dared to touch a Ramones disc.

The Brit didn’t so much as flinch when Buffy bitched about a particularly long solo from the Cure.

Spike had confessed to a very amused Gunn that he was certain he’d win Buffy over eventually. He just had to play the music constantly. Either she’d kill him during sounds of ‘the Clash’ or she’d grin and bear it. In the end Spike was positive that he’d be victorious.

Cordelia had other suspicions.

Opening the door to the tumultuous blondes’ bedroom, she steeled herself for the sounds of an argument.

Instead she walked in on what could only be the beginnings of a very personal moment.

Spike’s muscled back faced the door, completely sans shirt as the man hummed along to the music. His belt buckle fell to the floor as he started to take off the pants, forcing Cordelia to interrupt.

“Um excuse me…” The prom queen’s hand remained firmly on the doorway as Spike turned without a care. His hips jutted forward precariously, emphasising the washboard abs just above. If she could dare to look Cordelia knew she would see the telltale bulge of his muscles as it descended down to an area that was forbidden.

“You right there cheerleader?” asked Spike as he curled his tongue behind his teeth. Seeing her dazed nod he called out to Buffy who lay on the floor surrounded by old records. “Pet? Your gal pals are here to see you.” He gestured for them to come in, not bothering to fix the top button of his jeans. It was amusing watching Red blush.

Azure eyes focused in on Buffy as yawning she arched her back and forced her body upright. After the fight she had been withdrawn, darting glances at him every few minutes before nervously breaking eye contact when he caught her doing it. There was definitely something up. Spike knew that the entire incident with Faith would still be weighing heavily on her mind. Hell, even he was worrying about the sodding bird and he didn’t have any reason to be anxious.

Couple that with whatever the prat Jacob had said and Spike was a man walking a tightrope.

It would only take a quick glance to see that the bleached blonde didn’t deal with tension well. Don’t know how much more I can bleeding well stand of this, he thought with frustration as Buffy all but sidestepped around him and greeted her chums. Tonight he would have to talk to her and open up. He had no clue what the Irishman had spilled which meant that the Brit would be forced to talk by default.

Honesty’s the best policy, my arse.

With a sigh Spike grabbed a maroon shirt from the closet, deciding that perhaps he could go and play pool at the Bronze. Think about what he was going to say. It had hurt to talk about his mum so intimately. Still bloody ached knowing that he was at fault. If possible Spike wanted to save himself from further nancy boy emotions during confession time. Which of course meant that he’d have to prepp and secure a lot of booze.

So be it.

Slinging on his duster, Spike walked out of the room, Buffy and the girls having already waltzed out. He decided to lock the door this time, knowing that if given the chance Jonathon would nick a record and play it just to try and sound cool. Listening to the small man rate the Blitzkrieg Bop against the Star Wars symphonies had nearly killed him.

“Spike!” Angel stood at the foot of the staircase, one arm wrapped around Cordelia as Willow hung uncomfortably off the other.

What does the wanker think he’s doing?

Cursing both himself and the residual aches from their fight earlier, Spike rolled his eyes and then settled them on his leader. “What do you want now Peaches? I plan on being busy tonight.”

Aureli grinned in response. This was a perfect opportunity to introduce the women to some of their more unsavory business dealings and also get the gang comfortable with taking over Parker’s load. “Willow wanted our girls to go to the cinema but I had a better idea.”

Instantly Spike was suspicious. “Is that right” he drawled roughly. “Did it hurt trying to think?”

“Not as much as you hope Will.” The brunette curved his arm more possessively around Cordelia’s waist, wishing that it was Buffy instead. He would forever regret not having her in his bed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the petite blonde waiting on the sidelines worrying over her dorky friend, and wanting to leave. Buffy was clearly uncomforable with the amount of people that suddenly seemed to flood the foyer.

Perfect.

“Just bloody well say it Angel. I haven’t got all night.”

“Let’s pay ‘Sin’ a visit.”

Immediately a rousing cheer went up, Wes even giving a rare smile. Any business conducted at the strip club would be solely pleasurable. If Spike dared to disagree more than Angel would think he was weak and defective.

The bleached blonde quickly realised the fact and shrugged his duster on more firmly. “Why not” he muttered, knowing that they could all hear. “Not much else to do in this sodding town.” He didn’t dare look at Buffy, knowing that if she didn’t already dislike him because of Jacob’s words than she would certainly feel that way by the end of the night.

He swiftly made his way to her side as the gang moved out of the house and out to their vehicles.

It was going to be a long night for everyone.

***

After seeing the way Faith dressed, Buffy was certain that she would be prepared for the club. The building itself was not too extreme, standing only one storey and boasting a dark, yet not dangerous atmosphere. Posters of near naked gild were glued to the door but then she had expected that. A bouncer, at least three inches taller than Spike, stood imposingly at the door, only stepping aside when he caught sight of the bleached blonde. The trip to ‘Sin’ had been silent except for the causal remarks of Willow in the backseat. It was plain to everyone that Spike did not want Buffy to see the murkier side of his livelihood.

He couldn’t possibly have known that she had spent two years of her life frequenting such an establishment.

Nor could the man have known that one of Hank’s call girls, Glory had been her personal nanny when it became too difficult for Joyce. Sometimes Joyce had demanded that Buffy accompany her in a bid to gain Hank’s affection. It all too quickly would dwindle to boredom when ‘Elizabeth’ didn’t act appropriately, namely stay in the corner of some dingy motel while ‘mommy and the nice dealer man’ talked. With annoyance Joyce would drop her off at Glory’s workplace, knowing that the girl would return her daughter safely to Hank. It was a perfect way to get rid of a perceived nuisance.

Sometimes Buffy would be allowed out into the main performing area. Glory worked as a stripper due to Hank’s opinion that she would waste any extra money. Twirling her hands and copying Glory’s movements, a small six year old would dance along. Most often the women would take turns between performances and entertained her by playing dress ups in the changing room.

If Hank had thought for one instant that Buffy had been left in the care of strippers, he would’ve killed both Glory and Joyce.

Looking at the stage now, Buffy couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. She was the same age as Glory when she started dancing illegally.

Spike’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “C’mon luv. Peaches wants us at the table.” She could already hear the jovial sound in the deep rumble, knowing that he was intent on appearing pleased. It was a known trick which served without fail to diffuse Aureli’s sometimes irrational anger. Angel and him must still be fighting.

Stray bands of red and green light colored her skin as she followed after Spike. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he was involved in this type of industry. Women like Faith knew him for a reason. Hazel eyes looked over the occupied chairs with disappointment. How can I ever trust him when his whole life is based around deception? She caught the disgusted expression of Cordelia as one topless waitress placed a drink before Angel and shuddered. She could just see his hand stroking the girl’s hip. This looks like fun, she thought sarcastically. NOT!

“Looks like Aureli’s in the mood”, commented Spike as he sat down slowly. The statement earned him a menacing glare from Peaches which all too quickly would be replaced by an inebriated smile once the man started hitting the bar. Angel may have said that he wanted to check out business but that was just a farce. Everyone knew that ‘Sin’ was fine as far as book keeping.

The real reason Angel was there was to prove himself. That and teach the cheerleader not to deny him.

If Spike had had any choice in the night’s events, Buffy would be at the sodding movie with Red and the prom queen. Instead her pert nose was wrinkled in distaste at the girl’s which stood fawning over Angel.

What had she really expected?

Not this you wanker, thought Spike self-deprecatingly. The whole situation filled him with shame. He’d been terribly close to following in the poof’s footsteps after Dru.

Azure eyes stared helplessly as Jacob roughly pulled a giggling woman into his lap. The silly bird bumped Buffy as she moved, causing his spitfire to clench tiny fists. The fiery blonde opened her mouth ready to tell the dumb bird what she thought before noticing the glaze and flushed look on Jacob’s conquest. She was completely high.

Taking pity on Buffy and wishing to extract her away from the now moaning couple, Spike reached out an arm and gently pulled her to him.

“You alright pet?”

Incredulous eyes gazed into his own. “Spike she’s completely off her face! Hell, half the girls here are gone! Besides the fact that they are being taken advantage of, we dragged Willow along.” She huffed for a moment, as though still stunned he had the audacity to ask such a question. “Does Angel have any clue about how to run a club?”

Spike’s dark eyebrow raised at that question. And here I was bloody certain that she’d be fuming about the all the naked women…. Unable to help himself, the Brit pulled her into his lap and forced her look past their table and onto the stage. He tried to ignore why she would question Peaches’ management skills or thought herself knowledgeable. Something in him told the bleached blonde that he would not like the answer. Instead Spike opted for some good old fashioned teasing. That always got her to vent and let off bottled emotion.

“You positive that nothing else is tying that bloody big knot in your knickers?” asked Spike roughly. Another act had just come on to the sound of ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ and was proceeding to wrap her body around a pole. He felt Buffy shake in annoyance and readied himself.

She could be nothing, if not brutally honest.

Angry, Buffy glared at the engrossed men which surrounded her and made an appealing gesture at Willow. The small red head had never been in such an environment before, judging by the shocked look that permanently sat on her features. I’ll be lucky if she ever visits the house again. Her eyes evaded the stripper with practice, knowing that Spike wanted to stir her up.

“No” she bit out, wrenching Spike’s hands off her and sitting hurriedly down in a seat next to Cordelia. Take that! “I’m just peachey.”

Looking up from her drink Cordelia tossed Spike a false smile. “That’s code for pissed off.”

“I think I got that memo, cheerleader.”

The brunette shrugged before looking at yet another scantily woman who had come over to the table. Didn’t they realise that he already has more women than Solomon? she thought in amazement. Even I was never that desperate.

“Can I take get you guys anything?” asked the girl with a smile the size of Texas. Her name tag hung off the waitress like skirt which was lower than most hipster jeans. Buffy wasn’t sure she dared to try and read it.

Spike didn’t even look at the girl, knowing already that there was no point. No woman had interested him since Buffy. He knew better than to try and change fate. “Bourbon would be fine luv.” Spike ignored the flutter of overdone eyelashes. When will this be nightmare end?

“How about you?” The girl turned to Cordelia, not missing the animosity which featured on the brunette’s face.

“Diet coke” responded Cordelia bluntly. The last thing I want is to be smashed around Angel. She resisted the urge to watch her lover who now had a girl on each knee and one massaging his shoulders. “Make it snappy too.”

Buffy, still mad and frustrated at being trapped in such an environment, blithely stared up at the woman. She looks about my age too, she thought with disgust. Hazel eyes widened with fear as the petite blonde took a closer glance at the soft baby blues which were now also opening in surprise. She knew that rounded chin and puffy cheeks from somewhere.

“Do I know you?”

The perky valley girl accent instantly filled Buffy with dread. “No I think you are mistaken… My face is pretty common.”

Apparently the girl wasn’t going to accept that.

“No I think I do know you. You’re Elizabeth Summers-Masters! We went to school together.” The girl’s hands clutched her notepad in excitement at her discovery. “Do you remember me?” At Buffy’s blank look she lifted the hem of her skirt and pointed to the name tag. “I’m Lucy.”

Breathe, just breathe… No one has picked up. No one has noticed. Buffy closed her eyes as the music in the club skidded to a halt. Lucy could still be heard talking in the background, reminiscing over their past exploits and dropping forbidden names into the open like it was a trial. When she finally dared to open her eyes, Spike’s met her instantly. Anger and betrayal swam, swallowing her whole as to the side Angel shrugged off his groupies.

“What in the bleeding hell is she talking about Buffy?”

And my day just keeps getting better an’ better.

....................................................................................................
A/N I apologise for the standard of this chapter. I just really had no clue how to write it. If any of you are willing to beta me I would love it. Just leave a review and your email. Apologies again,
Will

Parker had always prided himself on being able to torture effectively. Where others needed practice or didn’t have the stomach for more than a bullet, he already was comfortable with disembowelment and more tiresome practices. He knew the exact words to make a young woman beg for mercy and also what every man would rather die than live without. Parker’s gentle looks only added to his expertise. It made the victim complacent, only shocking them that bit more brutally when he seemed to transform before their very eyes.

A confiding smile would melt to causal indifference as boyish floppy hair would betray the dead cold of his eyes.

As with all the gang leader’s lackeys and victims, it was far too late when they finally realised exactly what Parker Abrams was… a monster.

Suspended from iron chains in the middle of the room, Riley Finn could only agree. Warren and about five other Initiative members had dragged his sorry hide into this room, kicking his ribs as they went. From the few times he had been inside of ‘the base’ he knew that Parker called it the ‘play room’ and was located on the third storey.

When he asked why, Faith had explained bluntly that if under attack, the hostages would always be dead before they could be reached. Parker didn’t really care how many men died trying to guard the entrance as long as those he hurt saw him with their final gasp.

Riley should of realised much sooner that the man was a sick fuck.

Now though it was too late. Like he had expected Parker had been more than peeved at his failure. Coupled with Spike demeaning him in front of Aureli and Abrams had nearly cut his throat on the way home. Bouts of unconsciousness had made his days easier, but the constant fear of now knowing when he would die was becoming a constant obsession.

If someone didn’t off him, Riley was sure he would go madder than Dru.

Perhaps knowing this, Parker had finally limped into the room, ordered him strung up and begun. The cat of nine tails had looked deadly enough but Riley had been fairly certain that he could stand the pain. The one thing worse than betraying your ‘family’ was letting your captor know how much the punishment hurt.

Riley failed utterly.

At the first whip lash he had screamed like a small child, amazed at the pain which laced across his back. It raised dark red welts which continued to throb half an hour after the initial hit. Parker kept the whip away from his chest, knowing that after Spike’s treatment, further blows could shatter his other rib and even puncture a lung. As much as the idea of him choking on blood would’ve thrilled the gang leader, Riley knew that there was still more planned.

It was a frightening realisation compared to that hellish session in the Aurelius home.

He’d been certain both at that time and then later when being given back to Parker that he would be executed. Spike had snapped two of his ribs and nearly broken a third, clearly hoping that Parker would finish the job. He had been in no state to defend himself whatsoever and had wanted to beg for the option of death. Ironically nothing had changed. He was still breathing – albeit rather shallowly – and couldn’t save himself even if he wanted to.

All it would take was one single bullet under the chin to end this torment.

Parker had made a great show of giving his gun to Warren as he entered the room, just to fuck with the farmer’s head.

Riley knew he deserved it.

The Summers bitch had been completely within his grasp and would’ve ended up in Parker’s bed if not for his fateful mistake. Finn knew it was his lust and greed for the green eyed blonde which had made him fail, but rather than blame himself he focused the anger on her. The flocking towards Angel had always annoyed him, twisting the man’s views about women until he considered them far too independent for their own good. What Riley wanted more than anything was a dumb little broad, only concerned about her clothes and completely devoted to him. In his eyes Aureli was far too lenient and Spike… The bleached blonde should of simply forced Buffy to accept his lifestyle, not have an argument and try to reason with the annoying bitch. Part of Riley had relished the idea of raping her partly for the thrill of taking away some of the woman’s power.

If Parker let him live, Riley vowed to not fail again. His head snapped back as the whip again lashed across his skin, this time tearing the flesh off his thigh.

“How much do you hate her?”

Riley struggled to lift his head upright, cursing as he did. “Who are you talking about?” he asked in surprise. Parker had not spoken to him since this ordeal started. Why now?

A fist ploughed into his stomach. “Don’t play stupid farm boy. I’m talking about Summers.”

“Oh… her ” Riley didn’t have to bother trying to fake the hate which flowed through his voice. “If I ever get the chance I’m going to rip the little slut’s throat out.”

Parker chuckled, pleased at the answer. Maybe I won’t have to kill the idiot. “What if I gave you that chance?” he asked.

Riley forced his eyes open, chest heaving in exertion as suddenly his senses came alive. Is he just toying with me? “But I thought you were going to kill me.”

Parker shrugged indifferently. “I can still do that if you want...”

“NO!” shouted Riley desperately. “Please don’t. I’ll do anything.” The man paid no attention to the gross smile of delight which stretched across Parker’s thin lips.

“I don’t really need all that” said Parker, nodding to Warren who began to lower the beaten man to the ground. “All I need you to do is call Adam.”

“My brother?”

Parker nodded, dialing the number himself as Riley’s legs crumpled in exhaustion. Pathetic. “Tell him that we need to have a chat.”

***

“No I think I do know you. You’re Elizabeth Summers-Masters! We went to school together.” The girl’s hands clutched her notepad in excitement at her discovery. “Do you remember me?” At Buffy’s blank look she lifted the hem of her skirt and pointed to the name tag. “I’m Lucy.”

Breathe, just breathe… No one has picked up. No one has noticed. Buffy closed her eyes as the music in the club skidded to a halt. Lucy could still be heard talking in the background, reminiscing over their past exploits and dropping forbidden names into the open like it was a trial. When she finally dared to open her eyes, Spike’s met her instantly. Anger and betrayal swam, swallowing her whole as to the side Angel shrugged off his groupies.

“What in the bleeding hell is she talking about Buffy?”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t have a clue?”

Spike’s face already contorted into a grim expression shuddered at her blithe comment. “Right now, I don’t think I would pet.” His voice so much softer before sounded akin to the menace used for Angel.

Trembling at the accusatory stares from those around her Buffy titled her head downwards. Cordelia was the only one who didn’t react as badly, having known something of her history due to her father’s associates. The brunette’s hand took hold of her own as Lucy noticed the palpable tension and quickly left. Lucky girl.

“He asked a question Summers.” Angel had moved to next Spike, struggling not to shout out the obligatory ‘I told you so’. If Buffy didn’t come up with a decent explanation soon, the repercussions would be worse than Drusilla. At least with that woman it was obvious where Spike stood. She couldn’t love him and didn’t bother trying. Buffy had acted completely opposite, making William the Bloody defend her against his closest friends. He fucking chose to get involved with her even when I said it was a stupid idea. Now he’s paying for it.

The gang leader knew that Will had been trying to open up to the petite blonde… even mentioned Anne, who still plagued his thoughts. Half the time Spike was either with the woman or thinking about her, becoming weak despite all his protestations of being the same cold hearted bastard. All it took was one look at the gutted expression of Spike to realise how much the man had been lying.

Will loved her.

Angel narrowed his eyes at their newest member and cleared his throat when she did not respond. “You better answer me now Elizabeth before I drag you across this goddamned table and teach you how to speak properly.” He swept one arm over the wooden surface, knocking drinks to the floor. “Talk now or I’ll-“

“You’ll do nothing Peaches.” Spike stood up, cold icy orbs boring into his as he gestured at his woman. “This is my fault and I’ll deal with it accordingly. She’ll talk in the morning.”

Angel nodded in acceptance. It was best to leave the man to this task rather than interfering. I’d probably end up hurting the conniving bitch.

Spike took the movement for what it was and beckoned with one hand at the shell shocked blonde. She didn’t move.

“Buffy.”

Hazel eyes full of fear and regret flickered over to the tense form of her lover. Sharp cheekbones seemed to cut the air as his jaw twitched in agitation. Though his voice came out indifferent, she could hear the agony beneath it. All this crap she’d been giving him about not opening up now appeared like a joke, with Buffy as the starring hypocrite.

Her feet dragged as she followed after him into the parking lot.

Not once did they speak on the way home.

“Riley just called.”

Xander walked with confidence into Adam’s room, knowing that his leader would want to hear the news. A button down shirt hung loosely off him, blue jeans making the man appear almost kind. Despite this, no covering hid the deformed eye socket that was all that was left of his left eye. Within the house Xander didn’t bother wearing the goofy pirate like cloth, he figured that the other gangsters should be able to deal with it, most having rather vicious knife scars themselves.

“He sounded pretty bad.”

Adam lifted his gaze to his second in command. Riley was a useless oaf of a younger brother, trailing behind his footsteps after their parents decided that they could not tolerate either of their sons’ behaviour. Where Adam remained stoic and deliberate in his gain of power Riley had become nothing more than a pawn. One which now suffered at Abram’s hands.

“Define bad.”

“Gurgling in the background, either a crushed lung or broken ribs but not any hint of major disfigurement…” Xander paused for a moment, unconsciously brushing a hand against the tortured skin just below his brow. “I think that someone stopped Deadboy before he could carve him up properly.”

“What does Parker want in return for the fool’s safety?” Adam regretted not sending Riley back home however now that option was too late. Once I get him back, I’m going to beat the idiot senseless… Getting caught by Parker, how fucking pathetic can you get?

“To talk but I don’t believe that for a second” replied Xander darkly. “I think he’s still wet around the collar for the Summers girl. Probably just wants a quick fuck. He’s too stupid to realise her importance.”

“You didn’t either until Hank reappeared.”

The brunette shrugged indifferently. “I guess. It doesn’t really matter in the end right? As long as Masters gets her back then everyone will be happy. I’ll get to talk to Deadboy and you get your own rewards.”

Adam tilted his head, studying the younger man for a moment, before grinning to himself. The only reward he wanted was power. Masters would look kindly on anyone who could retrieve the blonde beauty and take her as theirs. The old man didn’t even really care as long as Hank was forced to relinquish the control he held over so many people’s affairs and assets.

Whilst Alexander Harris sought vengeance upon Aureli, Adam would be slowly forcing his way to victory.

All he had to do was possess Elizabeth Anne Summers.

“You alright?” enquired Xander with just a hint of nervousness.

Adam smiled, forcing his face into an expression that was difficult to manage. He never did deal well with human emotions. “I’m fine boy. Just thinking.”

“I guess I’ll tell Parker that we’ll talk then?”

“Yes” he answered simply, not wanting to bother himself anymore with thoughts of a bleeding and maimed Riley. “Make sure that you call that little red head of yours also… Willow I think her name is.”

For a moment Xander paled, it was never a good thing for Adam to know about outside connections. They were all too often eliminated. “Will do sir.” he answered before striding back out.

The man struggled to hold back his fears that everything would soon spiral out of control, with his crush becoming a casualty in the process.

I’m so sorry Willow.

***
He entered the room first, shoving the door open as soon as it was unlocked. His hands seemed to be permanently in a state of seizure, wrenching at the lapels of his duster or gripping the car wheel with a frightening intensity. The bleached locks which normally were slicked back, had been quickly ruffled in frustration as Spike turned to regard her during the ride home.

His mouth would open, gaping at her uselessly, before he’d grit his teeth once more and focus back on the road.

And now, despite the awkward silence which surrounded them, Spike still refused to say a word.

In her heart Buffy knew that he had every right to act this way. She’d felt exactly the same after Faith’s little declaration that her lover had slept with the tart. The tormented gaze azure eyes bestowed on her were blatant in their belief.

He feels like I’ve betrayed him.

Her inner voice piped up quickly, as though all her precious reasons for hiding the truth had vanished. You have Summers. You might as well have lied to him for all the half truths and omissions.

“Since when did you become a Masters?” Spike pulled off the duster, laying it on her side of the bed and seating himself next to it. The action, though unconscious was clear. Buffy was the one in the spotlight and the Brit was not letting her go near him until she talked.

Completely.

“Since he adopted me” answered Buffy softly. She knew that this would destroy their relationship. Spike had wanted a normal girl without the stress of having the entire west coast and the British mafia on his tail. Buffy was certain that she could never be that type of person for him. Not with her past and certainly not now.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Spike gaped at her the same way a kid would at Santa Claus: a mixture of awe and also shock.

Buffy only shook her head sadly. “I’m not… My dad thought it would be best if Masters had legal rights in case anything happened.”

Silence filled the room once more as Spike struggled to take this information in. Buffy was a dangerous to all of them, simply by having that last name. The bat faced git only gave that title to those who earned it with buckets of blood or those invaluable to his operations. Buffy only fitted into the second category.

He looked at her hard, taking off the mental rose colored glasses and shrugging away his own feelings.

She had lied to him. Deliberately hidden facts about herself that in the wrong hands could get them all killed. Gazing at the hard eyed expression and firm set of her lips, she was all too aware of her deception.

Probably was going to hide it for sodding ever. Spike’s hands clenched in useless rage. He would never let Peaches harm her but the whole thing still ripped at his soul. He’d opened himself to her – only slightly – but obviously a mistake. What was the point of being with someone if they kept all these bleeding secrets.

“I don’t know anything about you… do I?” asked Spike, his voice hauntingly broken.

Buffy made to move herself closer, desperate for his touch but halted at the firm shake.

He doesn’t want me near him…

“You know some things” she offered with a teasing grin, hoping to lighten the mood. “You know that I only eat Captain Crunch for breakfast, sushi pajamas are my favourite and I can’t stand most of your music.,. That I like to watch Veronica Mars and have done the Snoopy Dance on occasion with Willow.” Buffy stared at his feet, unable to look at him in the face and see his disappointment.

“And the rest? Your entire life in I’m assuming LA? When were you going to let me in on all of that?”

“Never.” said Buffy calmly. I’m not going to lie to him anymore.

“Well ain’t that just bloody perfect! We all take you in, share ourselves with you, sodding shoot up some of Parker’s men and this is how you repay us. Couldn’t even summon up the bleeding courage to be honest.” Spike didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm which coated his speech. “Thanks ever so Elizabeth.”

“Stop acting like this is about the gang! This is about us ; how nothing ever is expressed. How could I talk about my past when you won’t even share yours?” Buffy willed away the tears which threatened, knowing that Spike was trying to dodge around the issue which hung like a dark cloud above them. Honesty.

“I did, you stupid bint!”

“You mean you tried”, corrected Buffy coldly. “I had to hear from Jacob about yet another girl who you’ve been with.”

Spike rolled his eyes, pacing the floor and itching for a cigarette. He’d told Angel that he would find out the truth but he’d buggered if it wasn’t ripping him to shreds knowing that everything about Buffy had been a façade. That she didn’t trust him.

“And who would that be? The wanker could’ve told you about my obsession with Passions and you would take it as me holding back a great secret. Can’t you see that the git wants you?”

“At least he’s open about it” Buffy retorted. “You won’t even say the words and let’s not forget that I simply belong to you! I’m not your girlfriend or a mistress I’m simply yours. How do you think that makes me feel Spike?”

“Are you trying to tell me that you aren’t mine Summers, ‘cause I would tread carefully. In the eyes of everyone in this sodding town and LA you fulfill every role that there is. Marriage isn't a common thing amongst my kind but our relationship might as well be called that.” Spike turned to face her, entering her personal space until her lips were inches away from his own. “I’d kill for you without blinking Buffy. No one else holds anywhere near the same importance to me. You’re mine, body and soul. I only wish it was the mind also.”

“I wanted to be.”

The soft confession nearly broke Spike’s resolve to let the whole issue go and simply hold her. He desperately wanted to forget that extra to her name. It would be so much simpler to just think of her as a normal girl. So much bloody easier, but it’d still be a lie.

Buffy’s hand on his chest broke through the Brit’s thoughts, full lips pursing as he regarded her. “I’ll talk if you do Summers.”

“About Drusilla?” she countered.

Spike nodded numbly, wanting to punch the Irishman’s face into the ground for ever mentioning that bitch. “Even Dru” he muttered softly. His eyes wandered after the petite blonde who could reduce him to nothing as she walked over to their bed and lifted the mattress. Underneath he could see at least a dozen small diaries, each bulging with scribed pages.

“Buffy? What are those?”

Long blonde hair spun as she faced him, hands methodically dumping the journals to the floor. “Before you read these, you have to know I did it for a good reason… I wanted to forget about that world and also to protect you. My life and what I represent is incredibly important to people that you can’t stand up to Spike; people that carry so much power that Angel and Parker seem like nothing. Hank sent me and Joyce away in order to gain some of that power for himself. I thought that we could remain in hiding forever, but it looks like that will be impossible now…” Buffy sighed, picking out the very first diary that she had ever started to write in. She passed it to Spike’s hands which shook with what could only be apprehension. “I didn’t want things to change.”

Spike made no move to acknowledge her words, instead staring down at the battered cover.

Something inside told him that their relationship would be changed forever.

Buffy sat down on the bed, drawing her knees up onto her chest as slowly Spike took his place beside her. A bitter smile tinged his lips at the childish writing until he started to read the actual words.

We are so buggered…

....................................................................................................
A/N: Please don't kill me for yet another cliffhanger. Ghosts 1 and 2 are so detailed and works in progress that I feel like it is far better both plot wise and structually to separate them. Thank you to everyyone who continues to read and review this story. When I saw all the comments I broke into a happy dance. I will not be forgetting about other areas of the plot such as Cordelia, Willow, Joyce and Jacob just to name a few, There is still much more to get through. Hopefully everyone is slightly pleased that Spike and Buffy are working out 'some' of their issues.

Thank you to everyone.
Will.

He could tell that it was written when she was a child. The words were blockish and overextended, some dipping into the next line with exaggeration that could not be forced. The faint traces of water in small droplets made him think of the tears, spattering the page randomly.

It almost made him smile except for the actual meaning of those small tortured syllables.

For all the youthful simplicity each letter held a sickening significance. It was frightening that a child could think like this, that they would even write it in the first place.

Azure blue eyes travelled down, counting the repetition and feeling his throat tighten.

Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserve to be punished.
Bad girls deserved to be punished.

Looking further down the page he could see that the mantra continued on almost relentlessly. That is, except for the very last line.

I am a bad girl.

“What the fuck is this about?” Spike demanded as he turned to look at the demure blonde beside him. He knew that it was her handwriting, could feel it with a belief that made him want to tear off any wanker’s head who made her feel like that.

Buffy stared at the carpet dumbly. Perhaps she should just let him read Merrick’s letter and get it out of the way. It would be easier and explain for the most part why Masters had given her his loathsome name.

Yet she knew that it would not give a proper explanation as to exactly why she feared being involved in yet another gang. Or with a man that was so immersed in that world. Spike could not understand her fears of abandonment or secrecy without reading this journal or hearing the tale behind it.

Like a nightmare which had unfolded constantly, Buffy began to speak, drawing up her history from the depths of childhood.

She loved this room. The musty smell of books and paper had always drawn her inside, daring her to simply bask in the comforting feeling. It reminded her of Merrick, tilting his glasses to better read the pages while she practised the piano. The man was old, portly around the waist and wore an excessive amount of tweed but he still evicted the same feelings of trust and love. Buffy was positive that Merrick would do anything for her.

Tiptoeing further into the room, Buffy looked wide eyed at the massive bookcases. Three surrounded her, looming up till they just touched the ceiling. Her father, Hank, often invited men inside, shutting the door firmly for what purpose she didn’t have a clue. Mommy would sometimes stand at the door, craning her head against the keyhole and listening but not once did she ever go inside.

Buffy considered herself to be very brave for deciding to dare venture in.

A large desk dominating the middle of the room, four large legs making the little girl imagine with delight the ways she could turn into a little fort. Her arms reached forward, grasping the polished edges with a slight clumsiness when she saw the letter.

Buffy was only in year two but she had been told not only by the teacher but also by Merrick that her reading was better than average. The praise had made her practice that much harder whilst alone, in part to gain more and also hoping that her father would notice.

Slightly chubby fingers, clawed at the pages until they were firmly in her grasp, the sides scrunching in her hold. With a cry of delight Buffy crawled underneath the table and focused her attention on the letters.

The first line was not difficult, merely stating that it had been sent to her father but after that it became harder. She tried to sound out the word, lips over extending the sound awkwardly.

Grumbling Buffy continued on, missing the main importance of the typed letter’s meaning.

Dear Mr. Summers,

We are aware that your dealings with us as of late have been miniscule. The industries that each organisation delves in, are by reality numbered due to the illegal nature of our very organisations. Your distance has been a major vexation point for the Council and this letter is a forewarning of our ire. We feel that for a number of reasons, namely that you feel yourself to be in control of Masters’ affairs, you consider yourself not only above the law but out of our control. It is my duty to warn you sir that such pretensions arrogance cannot be tolerated, nor should it be by our organisation.

One could hypothesise on the many various reasons for this attitude. You have wealth, a guaranteed income and most importantly the child. The Council is certain that our agreement with leaders such as yourself and and Masters has not been forgotten. Merrick our appointed overseer has detailed quite plainly the extended security that now looks after the Chosen one. Your acquisition of Elizabeth’s custody is of great interest however The Council will not hesitate to use whatever means necessary to eliminate you if you insist on hiding behind the child. Whilst Masters is fairly separate from legal avenues, the Watcher’s Council is well prepared. Wolfram and Hart are ready at any time, to swap over care of Miss. Summers-Masters to Merrick or another of the organisation.

Please take this warning for what it is and resume your investments in Miami.

Signed,

The Watchers Council.
“Buffy!”

The small blonde jerked her head up quickly, knocking it against the underside of the desk as again her father’s voice called out.

He was looking for her.

Desperately she scrambled further underneath, the letter lying forgotten on the ivy green carpet. All she could think of was the last time Hank had discovered she wasn’t with Luke or Nathan and how badly she had been punished. Her bodyguards had not been allowed to look at her face for over a week nor talk to her whilst she was kept home from school. As Joyce had been away on some holiday with other socialites the gigantic bruises had not been commented on. Buffy could only imagine what her father would do if he found her in this room.

His voice boomed out again, this time, incredibly close to the slightly ajar door. Hazel eye could just see the shadow from his shoes as Hank burst into the room.

“Where the fuck are you Elizabeth?”

Buffy only gnawed on her bottom lip in fear. Face scrunching up as tiny breaths of terror escaped from her mouth.

“I mean it Buffy. Come out her right this second or last week will seem like nothing.”

Her body lurched forward in betrayal for a moment, half trusting the raging adult which stormed around the office. Her voice squeaked in fear as her father broke a chair on top of the desk in his anger.

Hank heard it.

Almost instantly, one hairy arm swiftly reached under the table, latching onto her ankle and dragging her out. His fingers curled viciously into her skin which only forced the tears out. She didn’t even have time to open her mouth and apologise before a brutal hand smashed her across the face.

It sent her body toppling over into the carpet, asping and clawing for air as her lungs burned with the effort.

Never before had he hit her with such malice.

A seven year old’s wide eyes filled with tears as again Hank pulled her to him. A decidedly calm smile graced his face, threatening in the fact that the rage shown just moments earlier was hidden.

“You’re a bad girl Buffy.”

Hank’s tightened his grip on her rib cage, forcing air to expel as he backhanded her again. The smacking sound only served to excite him as again he awaited a response.

“Answer me Elizabeth… You do know that you’re a bad girl right?”

His hand raised again, threatening and imposing over her face. Buffy nodded numbly. No matter what she did he would still hit her.

“I said answer me bitch!”

Buffy’s head snapped to the side, as her jaw rattled with the force of Hank’s blow. She could just feel the trickle of blood running down to her chin. Desperate to appease him, she crawled forward, lying at his feet uselessly.

“I am.” She sobbed, “I’m a bad girl.”

Hank nodded, pleased at her reaction as he pulled his belt out from the loops around his waist. “And what do bad girls deserve?” he asked softly.

Buffy’s sobs grew louder. She knew what was coming.

“It’ll only hurt more if you don’t say it Elizabeth.”

“Bad girls deserve to be punished.” She flinched as the belt buckle landed on the back of her thigh.

“Again,” Hank demanded. He whipped the belt across the girl’s shoulder blades, delighting in the way she still managed to answer despite the sharp pain.

Buffy did not disappoint. “Bad girls deserve to be punished.”

“Again.”

‘Bad girls deserve to be punished.”

“AGAIN!”

Buffy sobbed brokenly into the green carpet, soaking it with her tears and blood. “Bad girls… deserve to be punished.” She screwed her eyes shut as she repeated the mantra thrice more, sinking into the floor with relief when Hank finally finished. Her father, overlord of LA and second only to Masters did not even look in her direction as he exited the room with barely a care.

“It took me at least an hour before I had the courage to move from her position and only then because of the thought of Merrick finding me. I knew enough to realise that whoever Merrick worked for wanted to hurt my family. I considered it my duty to not say anything. I didn’t think that Hank was acting completely out of control compared to other parents.”

“Is that when you wrote this entry?” Spike’s voice was tight, bitter at her treatment and amazed that Buffy could endure a childhood like that and still retain a strong personality. He’d heard of Hank Summers. All knew the bastard had been relegated to the fringes for a major offence but still the stories of his brutality remained. Buffy was a perfect example if the journal was anything to go by.

He noted the withdrawn way his girl nodded her head and swore to himself in frustration.

“Why did you show me this pet? It still doesn’t explain everything.”

“I know,” she replied. “But I thought that since you talked about your mom it was fair to do the same.” She paused, noting the way he leaned more towards her. It probably would be the last time he reacted as such. No man would be able to deal with the weight of her history. It would be even harder for Spike since he was a part of a gang under Masters’ control.

It was too late to back out now though.

Her hand reached for a journal less worn than the others and flipped through the pages with ease. “Merrick wrote me a letter some time ago when I started to ask more questions about how the whole thing began. I think it will give you a better idea of everything.”

Spike took the offering and once more settled it on his lap.

My dearest Buffy,

England is more than a trifle boring at the moment, thank you for asking and I very much wish that you could have accompanied me. I know that such a request is impossible. Your father and the others will not for a minute let you out of their sight but I took note of your journal idea and decided that well, I could write an entry for you.

If you look underneath the side cupboard there’s another clean book just waiting to be filled.

But as I was saying… The Watcher’s meeting was incredibly dull. I know you must think that the British would have the same extent of attention and guns but I assure you (unfortunately) that that is not the case. They were all very glad to hear that you are well, and are looking forward to see how your match with Mr. Fordham goes. I hear that the boy is quite refined and intelligent. Not such terrible traits in the least.

But I have more serious things to write about also.

I know with certainty that you are a naturally inquisitive creature, Elizabeth. I can’t hold it against you after being brought up in a world where everything is illicit and or legal but you mustn’t ask any questions. Especially not from your father!

I’m afraid that you are going to get into trouble unless someone tells you and since I was actually at the event where it happened I guess it should be I. I beg you to burn this as soon as you have read it for all our sakes.

It is information that many a man would like to be privy too. I know that you are well aware of how important you are to relations between England and North America. If another person was to find out exactly why your safety would be very much in danger.

But then I expect you to ignore that last paragraph and sit eagerly waiting to read how this arrangement came to be.

I remind you again that patience is a virtue.

Masters, whether you know it or not, has always been a crotchety fellow who has long had issues with my organisation across the pond. Both him and Travers have egos the size of the sun and were always fighting each other in the quest for power. Hank, your father was placed as Masters’ second command and was told with some frustration, I might add, to do something about the animosity. And like an ingenious man Hank is, he came up with a unique solution.

To put it bluntly, Buffy, he decided that you were the answer to all our problems.

Your birth came at a very difficult time in world affairs. International terrorism was starting to become more prevalent, the CIA and FBI were having far more success and a laundering scheme in Asia had just been cracked.

Rivalry was not something that Masters or Travers could really deal with.

Plus there was the old issues that had not been resolved.

Money, particularly dirty money is difficult to make clean under any circumstance, and was a rather universal issue for fellows such as your father, Masters and Travers. Not to mention all the underdogs beneath them. Joyce had just given birth when it was decided that the Council and various assortments from the United States, headed by Masters would sign a treaty forged and strengthened by blood.

At first the great git didn’t go for it, nor was Travers all that impressed.

A human child, symbolising our agreement had not been heard of.

It was a great risk then as it is now. You are a pawn that is invaluable in some many different ways. Your death could see the end of an agreement which each year produces millions of pounds (or dollars) of goods and of course money. And each and every single year, the investment into that relationship has grown.

Your capture could allow the aforementioned millions to fall into another organisation’s hands or even that of the bloody governments.

I’m telling you this, not only because of your undeniable curiosity but also as retribution. You may think you are clever but I have seen what he has done to you. I am powerless to stop it but that doesn’t mean that I am blind to the bruises which have on occasion kept you from being seen in public altogether. I state with deadly conviction that without you Hank would be no one.

You are the Chosen One, not he.

I’m aware that you already know what has happened since then so I won’t divulge but needless to say, you became very important. A great deal of money was entered in under your name, untouchable till the age of eighteen or upon marriage. Masters gave you his name as a formality and insurance that he would have some control and well, I was appointed as a supervisor by Travers.

The world may seem like it is about to swallow you whole Elizabeth and that people are only using you. I came into your life as a guardian not of your wellbeing but of a business agreement. I think we both know that such a position has become a great deal more.

I care for you the same way I would a daughter and in that sense I warn you to be careful.

Sincerely,

Merrick.

“Bloody hell.” Spike stared down at the cursive writing, feeling as though he had just aged a hundred years. For all the sidestepping and allusions, the prat had opened his eyes to a possibility that had never occurred to him. Spike looked again at the words ‘Chosen One’ and blinked repeatedly. They were still there.

But then that could not be right. It simply couldn’t. I won’t allow it to be.

Not sparing Buffy a glance due to the fear that she would confirm the truth which now gnawed at him, Spike delved into another journal and stared at it in surprise.

The entire thing was written in pink.

Well hello to bleeding teenage Buffy… he thought with more than a touch of nervousness. Spike didn’t know wether he really wanted to read about past crushes but then if what he had already listened to and read was any indicator, it was bound to end badly.

He leaned back onto the bed and began.

Dear Diary,

I met him today which I was completely unprepared for! You think Luke would mention something so utterly important rather than the usual ‘breakfast is ready’. Sometimes I swear he’s a clone of Lurch. All that monosyllabic grumbling can’t be natural.

But now I’m getting all sidetracked which is so totally like me!

While I can’t say he’s cute, he’s definitely not ugly. He asked me to call him Billy, but I think it sounded sort of stupid. Isn’t that the name that most people give a goat?

Chews lip while thinking.

Anyway, we talked just as school began and he told me that he just transferred to Hemery High. I thought he would be British but he sounds more east coast to me… say from Baltimore or Washington D.C. That’s probably why they had him picked out. Masters never could stand not having complete control of the east.

It kind of makes me want to ask why he doesn’t marry the guy but then that would be just gross and totally unpractical.

Masters is like sixty after all.

My dad says that I’m just being immature about the whole thing. That I should be happy that they chose a nice guy like Billy… I’ll admit that he is nice but why do I have to be the one who skips down the aisle at just eighteen? Don’t they care whether we love each other? That I’m really not ready to be someone else’s wife?

The whole thing seems a bit weird if you ask me. In fact I would go so far as to say it’s totally bizarre!

And I really need to stop using the word totally.

I really haven’t talked to my dad about it. He still scares me and for all this training that Merrick taught me, I know that I really have no idea how to defend myself against him. All I can say is thank God for Covergirl and foundation.

I just really wish Merrick wasn’t being so supportive about the whole thing either. All he ever says is how it’s my duty and I’m the Chosen One and blah blah blah. You’d think he’d get a new motto or something but no!

I’m the golden girl which means that I have to do whatever they say. Either that or everything I’ve known will be destroyed.

Maybe I’ll learn to like Billy…

Even though Brad Pitt is so much cuter!

Diary I ask you this: why couldn’t I get to marry someone like that?

With lots of love,

Buffy.

Spike turned to face Buffy who still sat on the foot of the bed and sighed. All this reading had done was perk his interest and raise even more sodding questions. One hand held up the ‘valley girl’ channelled diary and shook it in her direction.

“Thank the bleeding stars you stopped talking like this.”

A small smile formed below sad hazel eyes as Buffy shrugged. “I was going through a phase” she retorted. “All my vocabulary was filled with was ‘totally’, ‘cool’, and ‘like’. The whole bubbly thing helped me deal with all my issues.”

Spike took this in, tilting his head unconsciously. “I’m all for sharing of the past Summers, but I think that perhaps you talking would put me more at ease. I really don’t like the conclusions my bloody thoughts are drawing.”

Buffy moved onto the bed, laying down with a soft thump. Her eyes averted Spike’s with difficulty as he leaned on his elbow to her side.

“Hank started out as a mean street kid in New York, having not much to his name besides a quarter and the ability to punch a man’s head in. He joined one gang, called I think, The Undead.” She snickered. “I’m sure that they all thought they were cool and eventually everyone knew not to laugh when they heard the name.” She looked over at Spike, gauging his reaction. “I’m guessing that you heard of them.”

“Would’ve been hard not to luv. All Masters ever does is talk about his old glory days. But he never mentioned your father.”

Buffy nodded. “I’m not surprised. They had a falling out when I was about thirteen… Before that Hank and Gregory, which is Masters’ first name by the way, decided that the east coast was too small and headed across country. It didn’t take them long to exact the same sort of rep and after killing off or convincing the local ‘Big Bads’ they were running LA and the west coast.

There wasn’t a thing that they didn’t have an influence on. Drugs, shipment, prostitution, strip clubs, overseas affairs… Nothing was too much for them. I’m lead to believe that my mother was just some call girl that Hank picked up for fun. He never really planned on having a child.

Though it worked out for him latter on” Buffy added bitterly.

She could feel Spike watching her, blue eyes full of concern and agitation running over her face, looking for signs that she was going to break and be unable to go on. Buffy knew that if she wanted, the man would put the whole thing off, probably never speak of it again, no matter what Angel said.

But then they’d be stuck in the same rut, with him understanding nothing about her.

Perhaps the risk of losing him was worth it, to finally free herself of the dead weight of hiding everything.

Deciding to continue, Buffy began to speak about the one person who had suffered a near similar fate. “My mom, Joyce, had no choice in the matter. Once Hank discovered that there was a bun in the oven her life was effectively over. Even then she had a crack addiction though he stopped her from lighting up for those nine months. I never really knew why they got together. All through my childhood my father had girls on the side and Joyce was so high that she might as well have been on a different planet.

Masters was the one who decided that they should get married.”

Buffy laughed, remembering the photos. “She was six months pregnant and looked like a giant whale and my father didn’t even have a suit on. The whole thing was a joke.

It was around my birth that Travers decided to connect Masters and let him in on the deal with Miami.

During the late eighties and early nineties that was where all the major dealings went on for drugs. Travers, as far as I know, is still the head of the British mafia, who insist on calling themselves an organisation if you can believe it.”

Buffy didn’t register the calculating look of Spike or the way he unconsciously mouthed the word Rupert.

“For the most part Travers didn’t get involved in anything, which is part of the reason why they got nicknamed the Watcher’s Council internationally. It was always the smaller gangs which were getting into mischief down in Cuba and the Bahamas.

But back then Travers was having doubts. He wanted a piece of Florida’s action, despite the fact that Masters dealt in that area.

It was assigned to Hank to reach an agreement between the two.

And on November the 15th 1988, he did.

As you already read from Merrick’s letter they all called me the Chosen One, or when they were particularly pissed ‘golden girl’.” She laughed, recalling a slurring Luke on New Year’s Eve. He’d seen her and started talking about her hair in detail, likening it to gold. She’d kept the name ever since. “They were given to me because of my role. Hank had already invested dirty money into my trust fund, banking it away with the idea of marrying me off to one of his lackeys when I became legal. That way he could get rid of a daughter but still keep the bank account.

But then he had the grand idea of expanding that bank account into the millions, even billions.

You see, if all of the major gangs decided to sign an agreement, it would be torn to shreds the instant that a stray bullet hit its mark. If they all pooled a sum into a bank account which could not be touched except by an infant little girl then the pact was as good as set in stone. Of course that sum of money would be considered of good will, and consisted easily of half Masters’ and Travers’ fortunes. not to mention that of their various gangs, but in the end they all agreed.

The idea was sealed with my life.

Thus the name ‘Chosen One’.”

“But that can’t be! I mean you’re here in Sunnyhell and they’re all over the sodding world! How the fuck did you manage to get here if you’re so bleeding precious to keeping the peace?”

“Hank” replied Buffy simply.

Spike stared at her as if she’d gone barmy. “You mean to tell that son of a bitch is behind you shacking up in this hell hole?”

“Well yeah. After I became this international symbol of an illegal pact, a lot of people wanted to get their hands on me. Sure it would be a long eighteen years until they could get access to that money but there would still be the chance of auctioning me off or even threatening death.”

At Spike’s enquiring stare, Buffy elaborated. “The account is with the Swiss and is made so that if I die, it instantly is given over to the government. It was the one thing my mother had a say on.

My father relished the attention, got me body guards, went to extreme lengths to make sure that everything was peachy keen. He even tolerated Merrick, who was the Watcher’s Council envoy to monitor my health. If Hank was seen to be threatening my livelihood then it was agreed that Masters himself would take over.”

Spike shuddered. Masters was a pervert when it came to children.

Buffy nodded, a grimace prominent. “Those were exactly Merrick’s thoughts. I don’t blame for making me stay with Hank when molestation was the only other option.

Eventually though the others began to get tired of Hank, who had been acting like an idiot ever since he was declared the keeper of the ‘Chosen One’. He took stupid risks, offing people that were nothing but civilians and slowly started challenging Masters’ authority.”

“Bat face wouldn’t of liked that.”

“He really didn’t. The memory is hazy but I can remember my father storming into the room. Mom was passed out on the couch and I had been watching her, making sure that she was still breathing.

His face was red, one side flaming from what looked like a slap. The suit he wore also looked like it’d been attacked, wrinkles and rips showing everywhere.

I didn’t dare ask where he’d been when he demanded that we get up and pack.

I moved instantly, too scared to do anything else but Joyce, she just kept lying there. Dad was furious. He kept screaming at her to move, and when she didn’t after five minutes he started hitting her.

I… I ran. I didn’t have the courage to stand up to him and I just ran into my room like a coward.

When Luke came to take us away, Joyce was hanging over his shoulder.

She couldn’t see out of one eye for a week.”

“So he just sent you away?” Spike asked.

“Originally it was to New York but that didn’t last long after Masters sent some of his lackeys after us. Hank decided later that Sunnydale was the place to send us.” Buffy rolled her head to face Spike, part of her wondering why he had not thrown from the gang’s home yet. Masters would punish anyone who was harbouring her. “You remember the first day that I actually talked to you?”

Spike frowned, “I found you in the girl’s bathroom, sobbing your heart out because of bloody Angel.”

“I thought that he was going to report to Masters. I don’t really care if Hank can’t barter his way back into power or not, I just don’t want them to have control of me and Joyce.

I don’t want to be their puppet.”

“Do you really think that he has any real chance of gaining power again?” Spike furrowed his eyebrows, unconsciously clenching his fists as he asked the question. The girl is bloody well mine. Any tosser who thinks that he can just sodding whisk her off to keep some pact can go and bugger themselves up the arse.

“I’m pretty much certain that he will…. Now that I’m a member Spike, people are bound to talk and you’ll still have to present me to Masters. There’s no way the man won’t know that I’m his Elizabeth. It’s just impossible to hide.”

“Well then I’ll just say that you’re mine. He’ll have to live with that.”

Buffy shook her head, a sense of hopeless overwhelming her. “No Spike, you can’t and he wouldn’t accept it anyway. I’m already betrothed to Billy.”

Spike snorted. “Fuck the wanker. I took you, claimed you as my own and as far as anyone is concerned you belong to me. Gang law states that unless they challenge me, you will remain my girl. And any git who thinks that I’ll let them take you is stupider than Aureli. Besides it won’t be all that bad. You’ll get to see the prat Merrick right?”

Buffy turned away, her eyes filling with tears. She had told him the past but now they had to face all the terrible uncertainties that her relationship with Spike would bring. Not the least was Billy and his claim.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.


....................................................................................................
I am going away for about a week so Part Two won't be posted until maybe Monday. I would love to hear feedback as I cut about 2000 which I thought would be boring. Was this a shock? Was it interesting?

Hope you liked it,

love Will

Ghosts Part Two:

Spike noted her silence and evasion of his question with a sense of unease. He would’ve thought that Buffy would be relieved to see Merrick again. The way her voice spoke his name told of a relationship steeped heavily in trust and connection borne from mutual suffering. Her lack of response only signalled one thing. Why did I have to open my bloody mouth? Gingerly he reached for her, feeling even worse when she brushed away his touch.

“Luv?” The silence except for the small patter of tears warned him that he wouldn’t like the answer at all.

Buffy kept her back to him, desperately trying to calm herself and stop the welling of tears which blurred her vision. “I don’t know how to say this except that Merrick’s dead Spike. They killed him because of me.” And they’ll do the same to you, she added silently.

The bleached blonde nodded, understanding already motives for the watcher’s death. From what Buffy had told him, it made sense for Travers to be so vindictive and blame the girl’s guardian for her disappearance. It had been his duty to trail after her. Hank probably had taken a sick satisfaction in watching the old man suffer while he had intimate knowledge of where Buffy was located.

Hank himself would only have survived by knowing where Buffy was hidden.

Probably still was the one thing that kept him from suffering Masters’ wrath.

Clever fucking wanker.

His eyes flowed over the small blonde’s shaking shoulders, bare except for a tank top of ocean blue. She was thinner than most girls, golden locks falling down her back and covering the impish face which now was undoubtedly clenched tight with sadness. She was nothing like the other women he had been with. Her body was far softer than Drusilla’s. It tasted like honey rather than the bitter taste of bourbon which his black goddess had on occasion poured all over herself.

Where Buffy shone like the sun, Dru wrapped those around her in mystery and darkness.

Spike was discovering that for all her light, Buffy had more shadows than anyone could believe.

It unnerved him. Made him question whether anything he knew had any semblance of truth. But then every conversation that he’d had Buffy was now open to interpretation. Spike threw the questions to the back of his head, deciding that the threats and obvious fear which caused the petite blonde to tremble were more important.

Clenching his fist in frustration, Spike quietly asked “who’s his replacement?”

“No one… Merrick fulfilled his duties and with his death Masters found that a replacement was not needed. I’m nearly old enough for them to simply give me over to Billy and carry on as before. Once I’m married off, the money will be in his name as well and I don’t think that he’ll go against Masters.” Hazel eyes focused on Spike as she turned and buried her head against his chest. “As soon as I’m eighteen I will have to go to them, anything else will only end in bloodshed. Everyone will know of me joining the Aurelius within a month and then nothing will stop Travers or Masters. Not to mention my father. Your one option will be to let me go Spike. You’ll just get hurt if you try to stop them. It’ll be the best solution for everyone.”

“ BOLLOCKS! Spike forced her chin upright, making her look at him. There was no way in sodding hell that anyone was going to take her away. Particularly not some gits that Rupert had called on more than one occasion ‘righteous wankers’ and well bat face could go fuck himself. It enraged him that Buffy didn’t believe in his ability to take care of her, to keep both of them safe. Has as much faith in me as Drusilla did.

One hand brushed away loose hair, tucking it behind her ear. The Brit was coming to the conclusion that Buffy didn’t trust him. She had no real reason, granted. His actions had consisted of ripping her away from what he thought was a relatively normal life and then he’d tried to integrate her into the Aurelius gang. Not really inspiring confidence in terms of making sure she was cared for but what else had he been supposed to do? Let her body surface down at the docks? Watch her return back to school with telltale holes along her arm from Parker’s stash?

Spike knew that he’d rather die than watch Buffy befall such a fate.

And I thought that wanker Parker was our major problem…

“You know what your bloody problem is Summers? You don’t have any faith in me! Absolutely sodding none! Even after I stopped the tosser in that alley you still don’t believe that I can protect you."

"You may not believe me but I’ve been on the wrong side of bat face more times than I want to count and nothing says that this time will end up any bleeding worse. In fact I’d go so far as to say that I’m pretty sodding intimidating. Peaches is the only one who gets to fuck with m’ head on any level pet. Everyone else? They simply stay away from me. I know that if it comes down to it, I can fight for you; I will fight for you. The only mitigating factor is whether you want me to. I can’t do this alone Buffy. You have to want to stay with me and the Aurelius.”

He paused for a moment, trying to speak the words but again failing. “I… care about you, sodding well drown in you. Not even Drusllia, who was my reason for living compares to you Buffy. In my mind, you’re the one.”

“If you can trust me, Masters will die well and truly before he lays one hand on you. All I need is some assurance. I just want you to trust me.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and pushed away from him. Standing was a far better option than looking into begging blue eyes which would only get them into that much more trouble. She wanted to trust him yet she knew that it would only end in disaster. Steeling herself, Buffy straightened her shoulders and did her best to hurt him. The man needed her to be gone from his life. Anything else was a death sentence.

“But I don’t Spike. That’s the problem. You hide far too much and your motives are unclear. I bet you weren’t even aware that I know about the meeting which Masters will be holding.”

Wide eyed the bleached blonde stared at her from the bed. He hadn’t counted on that. Only he and Angel knew for christ sakes. The feeling of uncertainty which had been warring at the back of his head throughout this entire conversation burst to the fore.

“How?” he deadpanned. Spike didn’t know whether he could deal with anymore of her surprises.

Buffy’s cold laugh filled the room. “I wonder how Spike. Angel’s been jumping up and down about it, practically since I got here. I didn’t say anything because I was hoping that you’d volunteer the information. Besides it’s always held on the same date. Being around the man has given me some knowledge of how things work.” She fixed him with an icy stare. “You should have told me.”

Spike sat there for a minute, absolutely flabbergasted. She was accusing him of hiding things? This is just bleeding ridiculous! “Right then. You know about it and are set on butchering what remaining sanity I have left. Well let me state this clearly, so at least when I talk you hear the full truth, rather than sodding half arse explanations. ‘Tis correct that Masters has sent out the old invites but up until I insisted, like a right git, that you come, you were set to follow Percy around LA and keep quiet. Angel is still pushing for that scenario, much to my chagrin. But if you give the 'approval' I have another option. Namely that we have it out with all the tossers once an’ for all. Go in guns blazing and simply state my claim.”

Buffy gasped shock. “But that would be mutiny. They’d kill you.”

Spike shrugged. “People have tried before….” He flicked open the Zippo, preferring to focus on the lighter rather than the woman who he was handing over perhaps, the most important decision to. “If you want me to, I’ll do exactly that. Kill whoever stands in my way come all the consequences but I need you know that if I do that pet, chances are that chaos will erupt. You’ll be leaving more than your mum behind if I do. Angel, the Aurelius gang, even that chit Willow will have to be forgotten. Once the dust clears, we will need to be gone.”

“Is there any other option?”

The man chuckled, pulling out a lone cigarette and lighting it to calm his nerves. The rush of nicotine soothed an already racing heartbeat, fuelled by just the thought of what he had suggested. Buffy had understated such a plan. It was more than mutiny, it was pure suicide. Such a move would be seen as a threat internationally. More than one crime organisation would want their heads and there was really nowhere that they’d be able to hide.

Not to mention the prices that he himself would pay. Rupert and Angel were the only people he trusted even slightly and they would see this as the ultimate betrayal. You simply did not mess with the head boss. It was a matter of loyalty and family. Next to Parker and Angel, Spike was seen as one of the upcoming leaders. If he remained patient, he could very likely take over a weaker gang or even govern the others.

It was well known that Masters was growing old.

The only other option would be to rely on the old sod’s graces, which were naturally few and far between. No, if Buffy wanted to play by the small rules that governed such a society which ran on illegal business than she may likely loose.

And I as well.

“All depends on what you’re willing to pay luv. The claim for you belongs to me at least here in Sunnyhell. If you choose to go with me to the grand old party than that may be up for grabs. No doubt Parker will be there with all of his fan club and so will Adam and all his lot. Masters will probably want to advertise your return to the fold so I expect them to have an interest. You just need to know that if we do it this way, we could be separated.” The cloud of smoke which escaped from his lungs at that last word came out haggard, as though in pain. The clear expression of determination in Buffy’s eyes only made him feel worse.

Does she even care?

“If that is what it takes…” Buffy closed her eyes, glad that her voice appeared steady as inwardly her heart clenched at the very notion of being given to someone else. She certainly didn’t choose to belong to Spike, but any other person was a fate worse than death. Hiding in secrecy had not kept her blind or deaf to Billy’s dealings. She only prayed that if Masters was merciful and let her stay with Spike than it would be permanent. Billy’s right to marriage was still very much in effect. She could smell the scent of cigarette smoke in the air, and in spite of the serious mood wrinkled her nose, exclaiming a small ‘eewww’.

Spike chuckled in response before falling quiet. In the end it would be her choice. After all it is her future we’re dealing with as well as mine. “So its decided then?”

Buffy nodded. “I’ll go with you to Masters’ party and we’ll see exactly what happens. If I can survive loving you and being given to another. ”

Spike looked down at the smouldering end, likening it to his own escape routes. The whole thing was too much to deal with. What patience he’d had upon entering the room, had long since evaporated. There was simply no emotion left other than confusion. His eyes evaded hers, knowing that looking at the petite blonde would only muddle his thoughts more. Mumbling an excuse, Spike quicly left the room. He needed to be alone; to try and find a better idea which didn't reside on compassion from a bastard like Masters.

What in the buggering hell am I going to do?

There wasn’t anything that she could say. Absolutely nothing could stop the tide of events which were sweeping along. Joyce looked down at the receiver, dial tone sounding uselessly in the background and sighed. Before this she might have had a chance, Buffy being alive and under her control would have offered some protection but now…

The phone clattered to the floor, numb fingers grasping at air.

Now everything was falling apart and she had no chance of recovery.

Joyce realised that she should’ve known that this would happen the minute Buffy walked out the door, gun shots ringing just after her departure. It was a given that they would find out, what with all of Hank’s spies. The man was stupid to think that not one of them would also be reporting to another.

The older woman shuddered as she recalled the disguised voice. With cold tones that registered even through distortion, she had been told of her fate if Masters did indeed reach the girl first. Another thing which would most definitely happen. Now that Buffy belonged to that British punk, the man would be forced to take her with him to the annual meeting or suffer dire consequences.

She was not too old to remember attending those functions herself.

Part of her knew that she should try to fight it, perhaps call Hank and warn him before it was too late but then her husband was a sick bastard… Sick enough that she could reason it was what he deserved if Masters became suitably angry.

Yet another definite in what was becoming a maelstrom of changing loyalties and loaded threats.

Even if she did follow the man’s wishes there would still be the larger than life shadow of her husband to deal with. If she managed to secure Buffy then there would be at least three different parties who would want control of her. Not to mention Parker.

Joyce crouched down, pale fingers wrapping around the thick plastic and slowly began to dial the personal number he had given her.

She wasn’t dead yet. There was still time.

***

“You taste like dark chocolate dipped in strawberries.”

Faith giggled as the other brunette licked a path between the valley of her breasts. This was truly the life. Her eyes stared at the ceiling as Dru wove her tongue along her body, not stopping except to whisper odd drug induced words.

At this point in time Faith really didn’t care anyway.

In one of his fouler moods Parker had decided to be generous and not take out his ire on them. Instead he had gone back upstairs to ‘talk’ with Riley. Faith didn’t need to guess what that entailed. Even though Xander had called there was still punishment which needed to be meted out. The Captain had fucked up and just because his big brother was a major gang leader didn’t mean that he could escape with only a few scratches.

She tried to ignore the red flashes which Dru had unconsciously timed her tongue to mimic. Clever girl. Just because their lover had left them alone for once, didn’t mean that he wouldn’t find a way to still participate. The camera by the bed was able to record every moment that he was away with incredible ease. It was a common tool in their games. Neither of the women had raised an eyebrow, when he flicked the switch except to move into a better position. Such tapes were only ever passed around the gang. To let an outside member view the footage would instantly result in death. And even Warren wasn’t that stupid.

Faith’s eyes rolled back in pleasure as Dru teased one nipple. She could hear the other girl humming listlessly, nimble fingers undoing the front clasp of her bra.

“Do I really?” she asked. Faith was sure that the line of coke Dru had just snorted was making the girl think she tasted strawberries. Only the black haired woman had such a unique reaction to the drug.

“Indeed yes” answered Dru, lifting her head from Faith’s bare breasts and snaking her hands down to the waistband of her jeans. One finger trailed down her thigh causing a low moan. “And this tastes like honey.”

“That’s not very original.”

Ebony eyes, wide and luminous glared at the writhing woman before her. “Shhh… Little girls shouldn’t talk back to mummy. Especially not when I’m sharing some of the cake.” Dru undid the clasp, pulling down Faith’s jeans and leaving her clad only in a small black thong; obviously Parker’s choice.

Faith’s breathing if possible grew heavier.

Running red lacquered nails up smooth muscled thighs, Dru considered her current relationship. It was difficult, not only because of the way her thoughts seemed to leap from one perspective to another but also due to the very confusing behaviour of Faith. There was something about the woman which half made her want to slap that confidence away or opposingly bask in its glow. Watching the stunning brunette gasp and plead for more attention Dru wondered exactly why the woman had let herself be dragged into such a situation. Surely her bad dog would have accepted Faith if Parker hadn’t. Nuzzling her head against the swell of Faith’s stomach, Dru stared at the jutting hip bone. Everything had been going wrong lately. Parker still did not have the sunshine. Her Spike had the audacity to believe that he loved the naughty ball of light and daddy still didn’t want her attentions.

If Dru was saner, she would’ve cried. As it was she tore the last remaining cloth from Faith’s body and tried to forget.

For her there was always too much time and no real way to escape it, except for this continual rotation of drugs and casual sex. There was no real loyalty to Parker beyond the fact that he seemed stronger than Spike and Faith was only loved in the strictest of sense for her doomed fate. Whatever it was that she saw, Dru knew empathetically that Faith would fall. Whether that was to a bullet or man mattered little. Rather than consider any of it, Dru focused her attentions on Faith and blamed the sunshine for the ever tightening webs.

Perhaps there was enough time for revenge.

***

The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room as he forced his hands to punch the numbers in. He thought that the small buttons would resist more against his grip but then that would only be wishful thinking. The only person who had control of the situation was him and no Powers That Be were going to intervene and stop one Alexander Lavelle Harris from committing yet another sin.

Xander wondered whether he should become a Catholic to help absolve him of the guilt. Confession to anyone was looking better and better every time he retreated from Adam’s presence.

Though it didn’t help the brunette still felt sorry; couldn’t really stop it if he was honest. He didn’t want to do this, anymore than he had wanted to loose an eye. But then neither had really been his choice.

It made him want to scream as he realised that was something Willow and he also shared. For good and most definitely ill, Xander was removing any chance of Willow’s fingers remaining squeaky clean.

And everyone knew how much of a cleanliness freak the red head was.

The couch sagged as Xander forced himself into the plush leather and waited for the girl to pick up. One hand unconsciously fingered the patch which covered a mutilated socket, the riddles of the scar helping him to remember exactly why he was in this position.

Aureli.

Xander had always been the Zeppo and though he’d wished it weren’t true, he had eventually realised that there was no way of getting past it. Like all his classmates Xander came to accept himself as playing the role of the class clown, not considered smart but harmless enough that no one went out of their way to pick on him.

If you needed a guy who lurked in the background of the stage and handed everyone else props, then the ‘Xanman’ was more than capable than taking care of it.

Anything else and you were doomed.

It was a well known fact at Sunnydale High which everyone subtly recognised. Xander’s role was to entertain and thus Willow remained his only real friend besides a guy called Jesse. For the most part it was fine. He had Willow who adored him utterly and Jesse, tall and lanky, who laughed at all his jokes.

Though he was aware of the various gangs which made their presence known, Xander felt relatively safe that he was overlooked and ignored. Spike and Angel had never once glanced in his direction, preferring to exert their dominance over other more obnoxious challengers.

Which in all honesty was perfectly fine. Xander really didn’t need anyone else kicking his ass besides his drunk father.

The first ringing of the phone made him want to cringe and hang up instantly but he held back.

Pretending that this had never happened wouldn’t change anything.

Xander gulped, forcing his mouth to move as Willow’s sweet voice echoed out of the receiver.

The man could only hope that she would be pleased that he was visiting Sunnydale again.

It was finally time.

***

The door of the Desoto slammed as Spike forced himself into the driver’s seat and wrenched the gear stick into first. He didn’t want to be at the house any longer, particularly not with all these bleeding thoughts whirling around his head. As if I didn’t have enough bleeding problems…

The engine revved, signaling the need to shift long before he made his way out onto the street. Traffic was relatively dead so he had plenty of room in which to swing out, squealing tires shrieking into the distance. The thick scent of burnt rubber wafted high into the air, soiling his senses and generally irritating Spike just that little bit further.

The Brit welcomed the emotion.

Hard, scarred knuckles, accustomed to being bathed in blood gripped the wheel as he made his way through Sunnydale and out onto the highway. There wasn’t much that could distract except for the deafening screams of some rock band that Buffy had switched the radio to. Infuriated Spike fumbled with the controls until the deep disgruntled voice of Warren Zevon howled out of his stereo. Sure it wasn’t angsty or angry but it soothed him slightly. Enough that Spike stopped driving down the middle of the two lanes with one hand flipping the bird to anyone foolish enough to beep in protest.
It was hard not to sing out as the first sounds of the guitar pulsed out and Spike soon succumbed.

I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand
Walking through the streets of Soho in the rain
He was looking for a place called Lee Ho Fook's
Going to get himself a big dish of beef chow mein

Ah-oo, Werewolves of London

If you hear him howling around your kitchen door
Better not let him in
Little old lady got mutilated late last night
Werewolves of London again

Ah-oo, Werewolves of London

He's the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in Kent
Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair
Better stay away from him
He'll rip your lungs out, Jim
I'd like to meet his tailor

Ah-oo, Werewolves of London

Well, I saw Lon Chaney walking with the Queen
Doing the Werewolves of London
I saw Lon Chaney, Jr. walking with the Queen
Doing the Werewolves of London
I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada at Trader Vic's
And his hair was perfect
Ah-oo, Werewolves of London
Draw blood

Spike glanced at the mirror, surprised to see a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. It shouldn’t have surprised him in hindsight. Angel was one who brooded out of the two of them and well, Spike didn’t want to take over the Poofter’s role. Aureli did have experience and considerable expertise. The big oafish wanker.

Azure eyes flashed with brilliance before once more settling into contemplation.

It was obvious from the conversation that he’d shared with Buffy that she didn’t trust him nor did she really care who she got handed off to. The main emotion that Spike had felt when watching hunter green eyes gaze at the floor was apathy, freezing and chilling in its hopelessness. For one so determined and obstinate half the bleeding time Spike couldn’t help but be amazed. Part of the reason he’d ever wanted the silly bint was because of her spirit. Her utter determination to not become a victim like Cordelia Chase so often pretended.

Everyone knew that the gorgeous brunette deserved every second of her new lifestyle. She had offered herself to Angel. When the man didn’t want to let go then the gang had considered it fair. If Cordy hadn’t investigated the repercussions of her actions then that was her fault and no one else’s.

Buffy on the other hand had never had that chance.

She’d simply been dragged into his world due to attention from Parker and been forced to stay as a result. The blonde hadn’t really wanted him. She couldn’t if her father was anything to go by.

Spike knew that deep down all of Buffy’s confession of love had been an act of survival.

How could you love someone who had imprisoned you and now was going to be forced to expose you to a life you had fled from?

You can’t thought Spike bleakly. There’s just no way.

The engine roared as again he forced the pedal to the floor. Even if it wasn’t planned he was still to blame; would have to be blamed for their current predicament. It didn’t help that the crazy bird hadn’t mentioned her father being a banished crime lord but Spike knew that he should have expected it.

After Drusilla, Spike should have been aware that women weren’t honest. Or at least they weren’t when they were involved with someone like him. It came with the territory. Men like him should only have the odd girlfriends who were so disposable that half the time they were to be ignored. The other half of their relationship would be spent in the bed.

Cursing to himself Spike shook his head and stared through the windshield. He couldn’t fit to that lifestyle. Had never wanted to try it and even after all the lies with Buffy wasn’t about to start.

Gods help him but he loved the sodding chit.

And that’s when you become truly buggered.

What she had told him had transformed old rumors into honest truths, and restructured his entire view of not only their relationship but his livelihood. On one hand he had the bleeding Chosen One on his arm, content (he hoped) and pretending to love him. On the other he had the threat that she could be married off to some daft git with a poncy name of Billy or offered to any of the other ponces who wanted to get their greasy mits on her. And that was without mentioning the looming specter of her dear old da’.

At the crux of the matter Spike didn’t know this girl. And had no sodding clue as to rescue themselves from the situation where his lack of knowledge and her silence, had landed them.

Masters wasn’t the only one who was going to kill him.

Angel would be a close second.

Spike knew that Aureli had warned him about getting involved. Hell, half of the gang in their own unique way had mentioned the damage left in Drusilla’s wake. She, like Buffy, had also lied to him, slept with the biggest supplier and hidden the misdeeds away. The bleached Brit had no doubt that Parker had not been the first.

Nor would he be the last.

But that wasn’t his problem any longer. She’d chosen another. Spike didn’t know exactly what he would do when forced to look at ebony eyes bathed in mascara but it certainly wouldn’t be declaring his undying love.

Now Buffy would be the recipient of that; or would be if he could work up the courage to admit the feeling out loud without being drunk or high. Somehow knowing and speaking those three small words were entirely different. She couldn’t toss them to the side as Dru had so constantly if she didn’t know.

It was a good plan in principal, however after her furious words and demands to know about Drusilla, Spike couldn’t see it lasting much longer.

The ringing of his cell broke Spike away from his musings, one hand grappling towards the small machine before flipping it open.

“Hullo?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you! I wanted answers. Not two people running out into town.”

“Nice to know you care Peaches.” Spike grinned until he processed the words. “What do you mean two? Everyone else is meant to be at the house.”

Angel rolled his eyes, wanting to chase after the thoughtless Brit and break his jaw. He couldn’t have this disruption in the gang, not at this time. “Summer’s decided that she needed a walk.”

“AND YOU JUST LET HER LEAVE?”

“NO”, Angel yelled, hands fisting into what had been perfectly gelled hair, “Wesley let her out.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

”There’s time for that later. First you have to find her.”

“Right then” Spike growled, hating the way Angel had maneouvered him once again. For all he knew Aureli had let her out himself before slipping the lock back in place. The man was so bleeding paranoid about Masters and what he thought that he was willing to do whatever it took to gain control.

It more than irked.

Fuck ‘em he thought. Bugger them all to hell. If they want to see me race against the bloody clock than so be it. I’ll make the sods wish that they had never signed that bleeding agreement in the first place.

His fist smashed against the dashboard as he wrenched the wheel to the left and headed back to the house.

Buffy may not want him anymore but that didn’t mean much besides the fact that he was a stupid son of a bitch. After Dru Spike didn’t think that any other woman could compare in terms of driving him to the edge.

Now karma had come along to prove him wrong.

The soft ticking of the tachometer echoed as he turned the stereo down. There may be no time left to escape Masters’ clutches but he could certainly out think the old bat.

“There’s time” mimicked Spike sarcastically. Soddin’ Peaches is a bloomin’ idiot. Time’s already bleeding well run out.

End Chapter.

A/N: I’ve been weighing up continuing to post for a while as I was worried that this story was no longer of interest. I’m over that now. I WILL finish this story, come hail, rain or viruses. However I do think that we as fans and as part of a fandom have a problem. Yes there are comic books coming out but no new television series or something viewed by a great deal of people meaning viewers and enthusiasts are dwindling.

Despite this we have ways of attracting attention and letting our views be heard.

Youtube is a great way of gaining more interest and perhaps most important gaining the attention of someone who CAN solve that problem.

NAMELY JOSS WHEDON.

I will be posting a video of entreaty within the next few days and I ask for others to voice their support as a BtVS fan and post their own videos. If we can get enough attention then we will get a response.

The link will be on the site in the chat section within a few days.

Please help me rejuvenate our fandom.

Whistle If You Mean It.

There was a thin vein of concrete, so small it was only noticeable as an outline of each individual tile. But the fact that it was there at all mattered. Or at least it did to him.

By itself it was only a rough raw surface, used for strength and holding other implements in place and in their own particular position. The tiles, beautiful as they were, would never stay without its presence. The unyielding dry concrete, harsh and solid, was needed. It was the glue.

Angel raised his gaze from the bathroom tiles, the mauve surface taunting him. Where the actions of his past still clung to him like filth, it was able to be washed clean of any stain, only water darkening the smooth surface and coating it with a thin layer. And in the end even that would evaporate.

Ludicrous as it sounded the man envied the earth. It’s amazing ability to act as a backdrop and still influence the millions of lives which traversed across it.

I really need to get over these floor analogies. Wrapping one white towel around his hips, the gang leader paid no mind to the pool of water he left nor the naked woman still lounging in the bathroom.

She was as useful as the tiles in his mind; breakable and weak at the worst of times and only ever able to maintain a façade of beauty.

Without him Cordelia was nothing.

Slowly water darkened the concrete, shading it like emotions too strong to ignore. Cordelia ignored the puddle and instead stared at the wall. She preferred to think of physical barriers. Besides it wouldn’t be long. LA and freedom weren’t that far away.

***

It clung to her, wrapping thin icy arms around her heart and squeezing it in desperation.

It was over.

He had left.

Sure Spike had run out to clear his thoughts and would most likely return. But in Buffy’s mind it signaled the end of them… of her life in Sunnydale. How could she ever stay in the man’s bed after the past she had revealed? Did he even really want her?

Confused and partially in shock Buffy slumped down to the floor, limbs slowly unfolding until her head was nestled against the carpet. The ceiling, high above her, remained tauntingly clean, witness to the events but not bearing a scratch. Irrationally she felt like perhaps it should. That there should be some symbol of the damage caused emotionally.

But then this was all just procrastination and that never got anyone anywhere.

Let alone me…

Fighting the desire to sink into the carpet beneath her, Buffy dragged the events of just moments before for inspection. Immediately stormy blue eyes assaulted her, twin orbs warring with desire and very real fear.

How would she ever survive giving him up?

Could she?

Unbidden his words again sounded, crashing along her skull. “I… care about you, sodding well drown in you. Not even Drusllia, who was my reason for living compares to you Buffy. In my mind, you’re the one.”

Again a chill settled along her skin, raising goose bumps and evicting a shudder.

Even while spelling out their fate, he had still given voice to his feelings. Maybe not the words she had wanted to hear. But there was something there.

And I ruined it.

Tears flowed down her cheeks, splashing onto the floor far louder now that the room was cloaked in silence. Downstairs the others would be just entering, having been held back on Angel’s command. The gang leader was just as interested as Spike had been to know what secrets she’d been hiding. However unlike Spike, Buffy doubted that the formidable brunette would feel the same amount of compassion. Nor would he dare to suggest mutiny against Masters.

Rather Angel would kill her himself or deliver her straight back to the old man. And though Buffy would be too old for some of the man’s more illicit tastes there would still be a punishment.

Buffy knew enough to be aware that Billy wouldn’t care if his new wife had whip lashes. As long as she followed his lead, the man would be happy. Women to him were simply a tool, in his quest for immortality. The only thing Billy cared about was succeeding Masters.

The thought of Billy’s pale hands grasping at her waist, forced the petite blonde forward until she was leaning against her knees. Marriage to a monster like him would change her, just as surely as Spike’s dramatic exit had left her questioning her future. It didn’t matter whether the bleached Brit would return anymore. Her fate had been chosen from the moment of conception.

She had to be returned to Masters.

Mentally ticking off what she would need, Buffy slowly rose to her feet and moved across the room, only her harsh breathing breaking the cold silence. Stay tears still escaped from watery green eyes but she managed to not break into sobs as drawer after drawer was emptied of various garments. She did not pause for any particular one, even dragging a solid black T shirt that could only be Spike’s into the recesses of her bag. His scent of cigarette smoke and whiskey still covered it, making her cringe at the scene which would erupt when he found her gone.

Spike may not love her. He probably didn’t even want her after this, but he would still take the departure as rejection.

Buffy could only see it as a rescue. There was no way that Masters would let her remain his. The money attached to her name alone was enough that only those of the inner circle would be allowed to look at it. Spike did not have enough connections yet.

A loud crash from below halted her thoughts, Buffy realising that finally the gang had returned, and with them a scared and shocked Willow. As angry and malicious as Angel could be, he would not leave the girl stranded.

Alone she could give away information to Parker. Even if the story was only of Angel and Spike’s questions it would still look bad for all of the Aurelius.

No gang was allowed to appear weak.

Zipping her heavy bag up, Buffy counted the seconds until Willow burst through the door. Only five minutes passing before the red head reached her, thin arms grabbing hold and cradling Buffy as the taller girl babbled endlessly. For the most part Buffy paid no notice. She was content to be held by another and take comfort in the fleeting embrace.

“Buffy? Are you alright?” Willow peered at her friend, taking in the tear stains and bulging bag which lay at their feet, some of its contents already threatening to burst.

“No Wills. I’m really not…”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Willow eyed the bag uncertainly as Buffy nodded in response.

“Take me to LA.”

***

He’d caught her trying to leave not twenty minutes after he arrived back at the house. Her face was still red from crying and Angel couldn’t help wonder whether Spike had decided to kick the girl out. Even if the idiot loved her that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the lies personally. Dru had changed him.

And perhaps for the better.

Angel could tell that she expected him to stop her. Hands, clutching tightly to an enormous bag had trembled for a moment, in between shared looks of fear between Buffy and the red head. Obviously Willow had been conned into helping her leave. Angel was simply to have her out of his home. There was something too innocent in her demeanor, almost as though she had something to hide. Willow leaving would only benefit.

But Buffy…

Angel cursed himself as he remembered the phone call from Masters just minutes after he’d let the blonde speed off in some small little car. If he’d known then her importance, Buffy would have been locked in the nearest holding cell until Spike returned and only then would she be let out.

If Angel played his cards right Buffy could be his bargaining chip to power.

Instead though, she had been let go, out into a town with Parker, who would not be above using the cops to stop her from leaving if he discovered her departure.

But in the end he wasn’t all that worried.

Masters would get his hands on the girl one way or another. Spike would have to bring her to the party if she did return and the other option? Well someone would return with the living prize.

Buffy was too valuable to be lost now.

Clutching the bottle in his hand, Angel reclined back onto the bed, dark brown eyes watching as slowly Cordelia approached.

Maybe there was still a chance that he could have a Golden Girl.

They’d left Sunnydale just ten minutes before, suburban houses and littered streets all too quickly disappearing out of view. Willow had the wheel in a tight death grip, the front end nearly crossing over into the other lane of oncoming traffic. Rather than causing Buffy to shriek at the girl’s less than perfect driving Buffy had merely kept her eyes locked on the large bag nestled in her lap, not even glancing up at the semi which blasted its horn from behind.

Part of her hoped that Willow would crash on the way.

Keeping her eyes off the road, and the feverish glint in the red head’s eyes, Buffy surveyed the small area around her. Everything of course was neatly in place, no rubbish appearing whatsoever. It was just one small example of Willow’s more than obvious OCD personality. The only thing that jarred in shining plastic seats and an amazingly clean wind shield was the girl’s sole electronic device. Buffy was partly surprised that she even carried one. There was a very recent memory of Willow thumping down into a cafeteria seat with the latest ‘important statistics about mobile phones and their relation to cancer’. The loud yawn of Amy was the only thing which jarred Willow from her rant.

And now she had one.

It sat the middle compartment, so tiny that she doubted Cordelia could press the buttons with her cat like nails. ‘Magick’ was scrawled across the screen. Buffy smiled, loving the inherent comforting presence that anything Willow touched, could provoke. If Buffy trusted anyone it was her. In a list of people, infamous and cruel Willow offered simplicity and safety. What could a small town girl really do to hurt her?

The small buzzing that signaled a text message was all it took for Buffy to have a second glance.

Wide hazel eyes traveled from the unopened text message to her friend whose hands were still locked in a tight death grip.

“Do you want me to answer it?”

Willow shrugged, the car moving dramatically to her movements. “Sure. It’s not like I can.” She smiled, white teeth flashing in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Cars are not as simple as I thought.”

Buffy grinned back in response, though she paled instantly upon reading the actual message.


Will, I’m here in SunnyD. Does Buffy know what you’re doing? I need to see you. Xander.


Xander… Where she had that name before?

flashback

Cordelia glared at Willow, ignoring the girl’s raw eyes fresh from crying.

“He deserved it you know.”

Red hair whipped across the girl’s face as she stared at the brunette. “You can’t be serious. All Xander ever did was say that he liked you. Angel had no right-“

“Angel had every right. I belong to him.” A sneer marred Cordelia’s face as she stared down at her former best friend. Now she was with Angel, she could finally be someone. Any guilt for causing Xander’s disfigurement had to be ignored. “You should tell Xander that he was lucky they didn’t cut out the other eye.”

…

Spike groaned voice heavy from a lack of sleep as he crawled into bed beside her. He’d been gone most of the day on ‘business’ which normally equated to spying around and gathering information for Angel. It seemed that he was the only one the brooding leader trusted emphatically to tell him the truth.

Buffy thought the whole thing was just a bit juvenile.

A heavy sigh escaped as Buffy slowly curled her arms around his chest, head cradling just over his heart.

“Where did you go?” she asked softly. His skin was bare to the touch and smelt of cigarette smoke and whiskey. On any other man she’d consider it toxic, but now she breathed it in like fresh air.

“Can’t be specific luv, but it wasn’t pretty. Aureli is worried about the other gang’s in particular a bloke called Adam. Half expected to find m’self conversing with the devil before the end of it. As it stands, I only had to talk to one of their snitches. Seems his bleeding PR agent is starting to make a name for himself. Sodding kid should never have gotten involved in any of it.” One hand, calloused and rough glided down her back, trying to relax himself even as she moved closer.

“Kid?” asked Buffy carefully.

“Yeah…” drawled Spike, “used to go by the name of Alexander Harris at the local high school. Hung around your little red head friend. Aureli and I never took any notice of him until he started following around the Prom Queen.”

“What happened?”

A dark chuckle rumbled in the room, jostling her lightly as Spike tilted his head back. From his position he could just see shadows playing across the ceiling. “That I could tell you but won’t luv. You’ve just had your dinner and I don’t fancy cleaning up the mess.”

An angry ‘hmph’ was his only response as Buffy withdrew from his embrace.

Stubborn little chit.

“So it’s to be like that then? I tell or spend the night in solitary confinement?”

Buffy nodded firmly, glancing just over her shoulder to observe his reaction. Instead of seeing a crestfallen expression Spike was instead smirking slightly. What is he thinking? A shriek filled the air as the bleached blonde dragged her back across the large bed’s surface, pinning her beneath his nubile frame. She could feel the hard contours of his chest against her skin, cutting and jagged in all their glory. It wasn’t a fair tactic by any means, but god help her it was working.

Spike peered down at her, warm breath caressing her pouting lips. “Right then, you really want to know?” His eyes glittered with an unknown emotion, as though speaking would expose yet another flaw.

“Yes” she whispered.

Spike glanced upwards as though it was what he had expected before trailing his lips along her neck. He could just feel her pulse; running madly to a pace that was a mixture of fear and desire. His hands unconsciously kept count, tapping softly into the mattress as he began to speak. There would only be the slightest change in the beat to let him pinpoint when her lust turned completely into loathing.

“Aureli likes to cut things. Always has, ever since I laid eyes on the ugly git. Whenever he’s had the chance to unleash on some poor sod, really torture them he’s always, and I mean always has taken the opportunity. For him, it’s the biggest rush he can get. Drugs or sex don’t even compare.” Spike nipped blunt teeth along her collar bone, trying to distract himself from memories which threatened to play at just the mention of Aureli’s darker side. Buffy shivered at the sensation. “When he’s in that frame of mind there isn’t one bleeding thing you can do to stop him an’ ” Spike paused, feeling small shudders pass through Buffy’s frame. Already he was scaring her and he hadn’t even mentioned what they’d done to the Whelp. “I can stop if you want luv.”

“No don’t… I want to hear it.”

Spike sighed. Another bleeding nail in m’ coffin. “I won’t go into too much detail pet but to cut a long story short, Xander started following around the cheerleader, sending her notes in class. Childish stuff really. She never responded, thinking that he was beneath her and in true Cordelia fashion told Angelus every juvenile detail. Now it wouldn’t have mattered if they were still in the transitional phase of their relationship, Angel uses lots of girls for a merry time and never places them under his protection. The prom queen would have been to everyone else another whore in training and the boy would not have suffered anywhere near as much as he did.”

“What did they do?” Buffy asked.

“Angel cornered him one day coming home from school and we dragged him to the back of his parent’s garage. It was the closest place and I was under the impression that Harris would escape with a severe beating. After all Cordelia had only been officially announced as his the week before. A geek like Xander would have been completely unaware.”

“The poofter had other ideas in mind though. After he’d roughed him up and broken the whelp’s nose, he got Finn and Percy to restrain him. It… I can’t even try to explain to you why we didn’t just leave it at that. One side of the boy’s face was so swollen that it was awful just to look at him.” He paused for a moment and tightened his hold on Buffy, settling deeper into her curves. It was easier to lean his brow along her collarbone than face accusing eyes. She was the only one he could ever show weakness to but that didn’t mean he had to look like a ponce whilst doing it.

Finally he continued.

“There was a table at the back, large enough for a person to lay on flatly. I can remember the wood being rough to the touch, splintering at the very edges. Captain Cardboard practically threw him on top and grasped hold of his left side. Wesley grabbed his right arm and it was left to me to hold the poor sod’s legs… I’d like to say that I didn’t have a choice. It would make things so much simpler and perhaps if I did, you would be able to love someone like me. But I can’t. As twisted and as violent as Angel is, he’s still the leader and I have to follow orders. I have to respect his decisions.” His cold blue eyes bored holes into hazel green as Buffy stared at him in disgust and fear. She didn’t have to hear the words to know that they’d done something terrible.

“When Angel flicked out the knife, the boy started to scream again, only this time far more loudly. Wesley had to gag him before Aureli even started. I actually think that his parents were just inside the house when we did it, but were too drunk to come out an’ investigate. Not surprising that he had dead beat parents.”

“Either way, we finally silenced him; Riley smashed the back of his head against the wood in warning. I can remember Angel walking alongside the table until he stopped just next to his head, knife blade scraping against the timber. I thought he’d maybe give him a small scar, something just a tad painful that would do the trick but he didn’t. Instead Peaches dug that fucking blade right into the poor git’s eye socket and cut the bloody thing out…”

“I’ve never heard such pain before. The boy was thrashing about madly, tears full of blood streaming down his face. The gag was soaked with it, just five minutes later that we had to remove for fear that he’d choke on it.”

Buffy stayed silent for a moment, too shocked to do anything else. It was yet another reminder of the things Spike was capable of. “And then?”

“We ran out”, he admitted, shame tingeing the last word. “I called the ambulance and that was the last we heard of him for a good month or so. Your friend, Willow though, was incredibly upset. I didn’t even care about her lot and still the bint made me feel something. It’s a real surprise to know the boy is playing our game now…” Spike withdrew from his position, laying on his back and allowing Buffy a chance to process the weight of his statements. To his surprise she did not shun him and order him out of the room like an angry housewife.

Spike had no clue that Buffy knew of men who would enjoy remembering such an experience.

end flashback

Icy fear shot down Buffy’s spine as again she read the message. Xander was contacting Willow, her harmless friend who up until now had had no motive for using her.

How could she have been so blind?

It had been so incredibly stupid of her to trust the other girl. After all she had learnt and dealt with she should of known better. Buffy wouldn’t admit to the sensation of pain which clawed at her insides.

She couldn’t afford to appear weak.

Not even bothering to look at Willow, Buffy barked her orders. “PULL OVER WILLOW! NOW!”

“But Buffy, we’re on the highway. I can’t just stop because you need to go.” A quirky smile flitted across Willow’s pale lips, unaware that she had been found out.

“I mean it Wills. Do it now.”

Silence hung in the car for a moment as Willow glanced over to see her best friend flat against the opposing door. Her eyes were wide, almost terror stricken, making Willow wonder what could possibly be wrong. She hadn’t done anything terrible. This had to be some sort of joke. There was no way that Buffy wanted her to pull over here . A gasp clawed through her throat as Willow noticed her blue mobile clutched firmly in Buffy’s small hands.

Suddenly it all made sense.

Chapter 39: Beg me

The house looked the same as it always had, with one window pane completely smashed and the ones lucky enough to have escaped harm remaining fogged over with dust and spider webs. The three steps leading up to the door nearly made him fall, cement crumbling where people had neglected to repair the weather’s damage.

He didn’t bother knocking on the door, merely pushing against its battered frame until the hinges gave way and squealed his arrival.

A rough baritone immediately called back from the dim recesses of the house. “Who’s there?”

Xander flinched in response but said nothing.

Trying to keep his composure, he carefully traversed the ground, one foot snaking forward after the other. It was difficult to side step the shards of broken glass which littered the hall. Nature’s colours of green and sea blue glimmered at him, reflecting back the light his entry had allowed. For a moment he was forced to wonder how they could live like this. The thought was dismissed almost as soon as it appeared. These people probably wouldn’t have even noticed the bloody cuts on their feet. All they cared about was the next welfare check and the nearest bottle shop.

Such great role models…

The floor creaked and moaned the entire short trip to the main part of the house but he increasingly became slower in his movement. It almost hurt to walk forward, Xander knowing the fate that would befall him. He’d come with a specific purpose and finally it was time to bite the bullet.

Or so he hoped.

A shudder raced through him as the nerves once more appeared. Being in this place always had made him anxious. It was to be expected that on his final venture, the emotions would not disappear. Each stain of blood or alcohol he saw served as a potent reminder of his time in this prison, locked away from anything but the reality that his parents presented. Xander had been the sole child and his world had consisted of only one person and how to best to please the often drunk man.

His earliest memories seemed to filter through the cracks, an image of his father dragging him along the ground, heedless of the dirt or glass towards the front door. Unconsciously Xander brushed the corner of his mouth, remembering the way it split when his face met the pavement outside.

His father had marked him as forms of punishment long before Angel ever dug the knife in.

Wallpaper curled on the kitchen floor as he finally stepped into the room, shock registering as he regarded the shriveled form which had once been his greatest nightmare.

“Hello Dad.”

Abel Harris stared up from his position on the ground, back against a rotting cupboard door. It trembled as he loudly exhaled. He hadn’t expected this for at least another year. “You’ve come to do it then?” he asked bitterly.

”Well that all depends on you” said Xander. The weight in his pocket felt heavy now when faced with the reality of his father. Tired shoulders, once strong and muscled slumped in defeat and those strong fingers which had once clamped around his throat now could barely grasp the bottle casually rolling along the floor. The monster had finally aged.

And now he was losing the nerve to do it.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The crevices from years of hard drinking became deeper as Abel struggled to understand. He’d abused this boy thinking that he’d never pay the price of following his own father’s footprints, but now it seemed like the loss of an eye had perhaps given the foresight, the twisted desire for revenge.

It was everything that he’d ever wanted.

In forty seven years of sweat, alcohol and misery Abel had never felt more proud of what he’d created.

Finally his son was a man.

The cruel twist of Xander’s lips made Abel both cringe in fear and glow with pride.

Unaware of his father’s thoughts, Xander leaned against the opposing bench, three fingers brushing lightly over his leather eye patch. He’d considered removing it, if only to gain a reaction from his father but had decided the risk of attention was too great. Sunnydale wasn’t so large as to not recognise an old face.

Even if that face was hideously scarred.

At the back of his mind, he knew that his parents had been home when it happened. Recalling the likely scenario, they’d probably been inside, passed out on their one tattered couch and unable or unwilling to hear his frantic screams. He could barely remember the ride to the hospital but his father’s absence was a glaring fact. Instead of a warm hand to provide him comfort, the paramedic’s cold statements had been all that kept him conscious. Neither his mother nor father ever visited to check up on his condition.

It only served to renew his reason for ever returning to this place.

“What did you think when some kids from school fucked me up dad? I mean, what seriously went through your mind?” Xander hated the pain which sounded through his voice.

Abel’s hands began to shake. The boy obviously wanted to draw it out. “I don’t know… I-“

“Of course you know dad ” interrupted Xander, fake enthusiasm tingeing the sarcastic smile. The pain he’d shown moments before was now completely hidden, shame flooding through the brunette’s mind for ever exposing himself. Play the fool Xander. It’s what you’re good at. He moved closer, breathing in the stench of cigarettes and whiskey like fresh air.

“I should probably thank you for warning me. You always told me it was going to happen. That one day ‘somebody else would realise I’m worthless and get rid of me’.” A dark expression filtered across his face, twisting the eye patch until it showed the edge of his scars. “Remember saying that dad?”

The dumb shaking of his father’s head only enraged him more.

“Aww come on. I know you remember. You’d repeat it at bedtime and when I woke you’d say it again. It’s one of my strongest memories of you…” Xander’s voice faltered for a moment, hand almost reaching out to touch Abel’s shoulder before halting, as though remembering who exactly it was, he had dared reach out to. “I’m not going to hurt you or anything dad. I just want you to tell me the truth. Indulge me.”

“I… I can’t.”

“You can’t? Aww that’s too bad… I really thought you’d remember it. After all, I always got a nice black eye before bedtime.” His hand caressed the familiar shape in his pocket.

“Try again.”

“Alex… I can’t. You don’t understand-“

“Understand what dad? All I’m asking for is a little nostalgia, a little family get together before I call it all quits.”

One dark brown eye, most known for flashing with humor, narrowed in distaste as Xander kneeled before the wilted older man.

“I thought I should say my goodbyes.”

The heavy brow that shaded the same orbs that he’d been cursed at birth with, crinkled in fear for a moment before slowly accepting the inevitable fate which awaited. From the moment he’d entered, Abel had known what would happen. It was the path that they’d all had to take during youth. He’d chosen to batter a wife and child rather than let his own nature reach full potential. Xander didn’t have that option.

Instead of continuing, Xander paused to examine his father’s, and by default his own heady brown eyes. Who ever said that they were the window to the soul was a blatant liar. Willow had always told him that they looked trustworthy, but staring back into the same sight, Xander could only hate it. Countless times he’d stood before a mirror wishing uselessly that he’d been anyone else’s son. Looked like anyone but Abel Harris. The blunter features of his father’s nose differed from Xander’s slightly, ending the mirror reflection. Where his dad remained bald, his mother’s floppy brown hair curved over his skull. Still the family resemblance remained.

And the similarities ran deeper than skin.

The self disgust which flooded through him as Xander regarded his physical future was enough to make him pull out the silencer. One sharp twist later and it was ready.

Through it all Abel remained silent.

Dragging the former epitome of terror to his feet, Xander forced the muzzle fo the gun under his father’s grizzled chin.

“You abandoned me. Throughout my life you never once tried to help me or give a fuck about my welfare. My whole life has been spent wondering how I could ever make you proud of me; make you want to have something to do with me. But I’ve realised that it doesn’t matter anymore. How can a fucking alcoholic give a damn about anything except their next high? It’s impossible-“

“But I am proud of you.”

Xander stared blankly at him for a moment, pure fury racing through his veins. Wrenching off the strap which hid his deformity, Xander forced his father to look at the tortured flesh.

“How can you be proud of this?!” he roared. “They ruined me FOREVER! I can never be normal again. Don’t you understand that?”

“They made you stronger!” retorted Abel, a cough lessening the force of his words. His gaze never faltered from the heavily scarred skin. “Before they touched you I was ashamed to call you mine. You were NOTHING but a weak little fuckup, telling jokes to hide the fact that you didn’t have the guts to be a man.”

“TO BE A MAN?” The incredulity in his voice was impossible to dispel. “Do you have any idea what I’ve done since I left here? I’ve killed dad, I’ve murdered innocent people because some guy higher on the chain said so. I’ve… I’ve tortured one man so badly that half his face was ripped apart. I’m going to destroy Willow’s life…” A strangled sound escaped his throat, half sob and half pure outrage. “I’m nothing but a MONSTER now.”

“Yeah and a damn good one. You’ve finally earned some respect. I’ve never been prouder of anyone else in my life Alex. This is who I always thought you should be. It’s what I wanted.”

The satisfaction of finally gaining his father’s approval was swept away by his horror of Abel’s acceptance. All he could feel was an odd sort of numbness spreading throughout his body, replacing all his anger. To want your son to become as dark as you were afraid to be; to have a child be tortured until that path was the only escape left and the only means of revenge, was more twisted than Angel had ever dared to be. It was more of a nightmare than he had ever imagined. A wave of ice raced over Xander at the satisfied grin which formed on his father’s craggy lips.

He wants this…

The gun in his hands had never felt heavier.

“Beg me not to kill you,” he whispered softly. Please don’t let me destroy myself.

“I can’t. In order for you to be completely damned there must be no chance of redemption. Can’t you see that Alex?” A cough grated in the quiet of the room as Abel’s bleary eyes became mirthful. “It’s the final step in your transformation from just another fool to being somebody.”

”No dad-“

“SHUT UP ALEX AND FUCKING LISTEN TO ME. You’ve always had that hate inside of you. All it needed was to be brought out. I always knew it and your mother wasn’t blind either, God love her. Behind all those jokes and that goofy expression you played around with it, the animosity and potential has always been present. I’ve just done you a favour by shaping it.”

Abel reached forward, one hand grasping firmly over his son’s trigger finger. Weakly Xander tried to release the gun, his lone eyesight blurring with tears as he moved back. However much he tried to deny his father’s words they were real. He was no different from him. Perhaps even worse.

Why not embrace it.

Unconsciously his hand tightened as rage once more flowed through him. All this time he’d been under the impression that he was changing into someone new and no longer trying to appease the twisted bastard which sat before him. Instead it had all been vain. Xander was merely a hateful construction of his environment. A monster.

His hand wavered on the gun until Abel rebuked him.

“Don’t be a fucking wimp Alex. You don’t have a choice anymore. Be what I’ve always wanted.”

Abel locked eyes with son who continued to weep brokenly and reached for the angry tortured scars. The touch was so light that Xander barely felt it.

“We can’t escape who we are son” he muttered softly, “so you might as well embrace it.”

Xander barely heard the man’s last words as the trigger was pulled.

In the dull bang which followed his father’s death, Xander could only watch in muted horror, sick thrills of satisfaction rushing through him as guilt settled deep inside.

Abel’s last plan had finally succeeded. The transformation was complete.