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Buffy sat on the bed staring blankly at the closed door. Her fingers rubbed absently at her bruised wrist. Lot of good all the struggling had done her. Now she had a nice ring of purple bruises on her arm to explain away when she was free again. Of course, she could always share the news of the kiss, and the bruises were sure to become of very little interest.



What had she been thinking? Lips of Spike—the phrase flashed through her mind. She didn’t have the magic excuse this time. She had kissed him of her own free will. Spike had been right about one thing—she was under way too much stress. She would never have been insane enough to kiss that annoying vamp!



She muttered a very unladylike oath as she rose from the bed. She got a slight bit of satisfaction as she smooshed the fries Spike had dropped to the floor under the heel of her shoe as she crossed the small distance to the little table. Spike wanted this little house; he was going to have to learn to do a little housework.



She looked down at the sandwiches, but all traces of hunger were gone. French fries were one thing, but doublemeat burgers? She just couldn’t bring herself to put whatever they put in those things into her mouth. She still remembered the rumors—that the “special” ingredient wasn’t beef. Okay, like she wasn’t disgusted enough by the kiss! Eating wasn’t going to be an option for quite a while. The food forgotten, she headed for the door. Spike had said she couldn’t leave without his invitation, but that didn’t mean it was necessarily true. Besides, even if it were true, it would be a good idea to get to know the lay of the land. There was bound to be a weak spot someplace. Spike always forgot something.



Buffy made her way slowly down the steps to the first floor running her fingers along the wall in search of a light switch. Damned irritating vampire! You’d think he would have left a light or two on. With the windows all bricked up, it wasn’t like anyone would see it from the outside!



The steps ended directly across from the front door. For a long moment, she thought about trying to run for it. If it weren’t also bricked up, she could at least stand in the doorway and try to get someone’s attention. She could send for Willow who could work on a way to break Spike’s invitation spell. It seemed like a good idea, but there was the chance that the passerby she attracted could be one of Glory’s minions. They weren’t exactly the brightest, but they would be able to put things together. Glory would know the Slayer’s family was unprotected. She just couldn’t take the chance.



Sighing in frustration, she turned her attention from the door and made her way to the kitchen. It was a fairly large room filled with all the finest appliances from the fifties. Aimlessly, she pulled open the cabinets and wasn’t overly surprised by their contents. Apparently, the vampire sleeping on the second floor thought she could survive on cookies, snack cakes, and a huge amount of cocoa.



Not hoping for much, she crossed to the fridge and pulled the heavy door open. She had seen some truly disgusting sights in her time, but the contents of the fridge made her empty stomach lurch. The lunchmeat Spike had stored there actually looked rather attractive, or would have had Spike’s blood supply been sitting right next to it. She had seen worse, but it only reminded her of who was holding her hostage, and she was not going to play little miss homemaker with him!



She slammed the door of the fridge shut getting a tiny bit of satisfaction from hearing a few of the contents rattle off their shelves as she stalked out of the room and headed back up the stairs. She just couldn’t believe it. Spike seemed to have come up with the perfect plan this time, and judging from his store of “nutritious” snacks, he planned to keep her there for quite some time.



Buffy came to a halt in front of the closed door just down the hallway from her room. There was only one other door on this level behind which she could hear the telltale sounds of a leaky faucet. It was such a surprise that Spike’s bedroom would be right next to hers.



She stood in the hallway staring at the door for a few endless moments. She wanted to kick in the door and plunge a large chunk of wood into the arrogant vampire’s chest. It wasn’t like he hadn’t left her with plenty of ammunition, she thought recalling the rickety table and chair back in her room. Unfortunately, that pleasure would have to wait until she found a way out of the damned house.



Without thinking, she reached out her hand and quietly pushed the door open. Had she thought about it, she would have been stalking down the hall to her room rather than nosing around a vampire’s bedroom.



It was pretty much as she expected. The curtains were pulled shut to block out the sunlight despite the bricks already filling in the pane. There were various rock band posters, most of which she hadn’t ever heard of, decorating the walls. She rolled her eyes at the sight of them. Only Spike would hatch a plot to kidnap the Slayer and take the time to decorate!



His clothes were littered about the floor save for his prize duster which was folded neatly and draped over the back of a chair sitting next to a small desk that was topped with a few books and scraps of paper. The desk caught her attention for a moment. Buffy just never pictured Spike reading anything—well, maybe Playboy and not for the articles!



With that disturbing image in mind, her eyes ventured to the bed. It was quite large. Way to prove your love—letting the woman you claim to love sleep on some dingy cot! Buffy groaned inwardly. She really was losing it. She was a hostage, and she was being petty about the accommodations!



She was just about to return to her room when her gaze came to rest on the bed’s occupant. Suddenly, her feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seem Spike without his shirt, but it was different this time. Maybe it was because it was when he as awake, his mouth was always managing to piss her off and drawing her attention away from his looks. Asleep, his face looked so different without the mocking smirk and the wicked gleam in his blue eyes. He looked almost innocent. She felt entranced by his face, but after a few long moments, her eyes drifted lower. Her gaze roamed over the smooth skin of his chest and his firm stomach coming to a stop where the sheet lay low over his hips.



Her breath caught in her throat. What was she thinking? She knew exactly what she was thinking—and she knew it was completely wrong. Angrily, she turned from the door and stalked back to her own room. It had been a long time since Riley had left, but not getting any was no excuse for standing there checking out Spike!





****







“Hey, it’s the Buffster!” Xander announced as the Slayer entered the magic shop. He came around the corner of the counter sporting a look of relief. Apparently, Anya had been giving him another rendition of the ‘why money is wonderful’ lecture. “Did you get the littlest Summers off to school okay?”



“Yes, she is safe at school.” Buffy paused a moment. “Xander.”



“I suppose you’ll be wanting to do more research again,” Anya muttered stashing the money back into the register. “It makes the customers uncomfortable.”



“We need to do research!” Willow snapped while pushing her philosophy book into her bag and grabbing one of the tests from the ever-present pile on the table.



“I know it’s important!” the ex-demon shot back. “I was just saying maybe we could hold off until after closing time. Buffy will wait till the evening to train.”



“Kicking a punching bag is a little different than reading a book!” Will objected.



“Guys, tension is getting thick here,” Xander but in stepping between his girlfriend and the Wicca. “We should be worrying about Glory not snipping at each other.”



“Xander is right,” Buffy added cheerfully. “Glory is the problem. She is a tacky dresser and has big hair.”



“O-kay.” Xander’s eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment. “I don’t really think her fashion sense is our biggest problem. Although, it would make things a lot easier if we could be researching Cosmo.”



“Buffy,” Willow asked looking concerned, “are you feeling okay?”



“Yes, I am fine,” she replied grinning broadly.



“You…you just sound strange,” she observed. “You didn’t run into Spike or anything did you?”



“No.” Her expression fell quickly. “I have not seen Spike in days. I wonder if he misses me?”



“Misses you?” Xander scoffed. “Deadboy has hopefully gotten it through his thick skull that he’s not wanted and is on his way out of Sunnydale.”



“Spike would never leave!” Buffy looked suddenly alarmed. “Would he?”



“I don’t know. He has before,” Will added ignoring the dirty look Xander shot across the room. “I mean, it’s probably for the best—isn’t it? Yeah, he’s helped us once or twice, but if he thought he had a chance with you, he could do anything.”



“And we don’t have time for love sick vampires,” Anya added. “We have to get rid of Glory before all our patrons are scared away.”



“Maybe we should get back to the books,” the redhead sighed as she flipped through a few crisp, yellowing pages rather than starting the old argument with the ex-demon again. “Pull up a book, Buffy.”



“I’d better hit the cemetery—not to see Spike—to slay vampires. That’s what I do.”



“Um, Buffy,” Xander added, “it’s the middle of the day. The vamps are all tucked away in their little beddie-byes with visions of bleeding victims dancing in their heads.”



“Then I should be training.” The Slayer didn’t wait for an answer as she headed for the back door of the shop.



“Hey!” Anya called as the door swung shut behind Buffy. “You said you wouldn’t train during business hours!”



“So,” Xander settled on a bench next to the table, “am I the only one who thinks Buffy’s acting just a little freaky?”



“Well, she had been through a lot.” Willow cast a worried gaze at the door. “Sick mom, Dawn a mystical key thingy, Riley leaving, and now Spike. Anybody would be a little freaky.”





TBC…





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