Unconsciously, she wrung her hands together before pressing her palms to her pants and dragging them down. Sitting in the passenger seat of Spike’s car, Buffy stared out the window and wondered if she had made a mistake by wanting to come out.
”What kind of club is it, anyway?” she asked hesitantly, watching Spike ruffle through his drawers. She couldn’t help the small bit of hope that getting out of their “lair” into the real world was at least a chance to escape.
“It’s a night club. You know? Music, booze, people grinding up against each other,” he replied, turning to look at her. “But I’ll warn you now – this place is where all the gangs spend their weekends – it might be dangerous for you to go.” Spike stared at her, his expression conveying that what he really meant was there would be no place for her to run.
Feeling that hope squashed, she sighed in resignation before collecting herself and saying determinedly, “I still want to go. I’ll go crazy if I stay here for the entire night again.”
Turning away to busy himself, he replied, “So you keep telling me.”
Exhaling, Spike pulled the car to a stop in a darkly lit parking lot behind an old-looking building. He had quietly observed her the entire ride over, but had said nothing. Gripping the steering wheel, he asked calmly, “Do you want me to take you back?”
Her head snapped up, not realizing her inner monologue was so easy to read. Straightening up to appear more unaffected, Buffy replied, “No, I-, I want to go.”
His jaw clenched slightly before he shook it off and nodded once. He had hoped she would say yes. Spike didn’t want to bring her at all, but she had been getting increasingly hostile towards him this past week, more than once voicing her resentment that he kept her “locked up like his bitch.”
“Fine. Before we go in, a few ground rules. One, don’t stay out of my sight,” he began, only to be cut off by her exclamation.
“Excuse me? Don’t stay out of your sight? Why the hell do you think I wanted to come? To spend more time with you? Won’t you be too busy being evil or something with your other evil minion buddies?”
“Alright, I’ll take you back,” he replied expressionless, turning the key to rev the engine again.
“Ugh! Fine!” she shouted, throwing up her arms and looking at him with anger in her eyes. “What’s idiotic rule #2?”
Turning off the engine and looking over at her, he continued, “Second, never let your guard down.” Seeing her annoyed look at the cliché warning, he stressed, “I mean it, Buffy. I already told you what kind of people come here.”
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Anything else?”
He thought of 143 other rules and precautions he wanted to tell her to follow. But as he looked over to her waiting expression, his gaze slid down to her outfit. Leather pants and a red leather halter that dipped into a good amount of cleavage. He could see the glow of her perfectly-done make-up and the bronze that shined all over her exposed skin. If it weren’t for the flicker of question in her eyes at his contemplative gaze, he would have acknowledged that she looked just like one of them, whether it was a good thing or not. Reaching over and placing his hand on her shoulder, he let his thumb brush over the skin there, “No, luv, that’s it.” A second later, he turned and got out of the car.
~
“There you guys are,” Gunn looked up from his brief conversation with Darla and the huge bouncer.
Turning to see the approaching couple, Darla smirked, “Figured you were having a quickie.” Ignoring Buffy’s glare, she informed Spike with a lifted eyebrow, “Miguel was just telling me that Rack and his guys are here tonight, and so is Angelus.”
Buffy crossed her arms and appeared disinterested in their exchange.
“What a small world,” Spike replied dryly.
Buffy looked around the shabby building while tuning out their dialogue, noticing that this place was like nothing she imagined. Weren’t clubs supposed to be hip and ritzy? Or were gang hangouts beyond basic hygiene? It was seedy, to say the least, and her gaze came to settle on the half-broken down neon sign above the door that said, “VAMPS,” with the lights only working on three of the letters. Rolling her eyes, she hugged herself and tried to warm her arms, wondering when they would shut up already.
Seeing her movements out of the corner of his eye, Spike cut the convo, “Well let’s get on with it. Whatever happens, we’ll take it outside.” He added the last part as he looked up the bouncer, questioning if that was good enough for him.
Miguel nodded, “Alright, but if anything happens, I ain’t the one who let you guys in.” He waited for the other man to pay him – he had instructions to make sure the daily clientele weren’t the main rivalries, but he often was willing to overlook it, for a fee. At a club that catered to people like these, fights were unavoidable anyway.
Taking out a bill, Spike handed it to Miguel. He decided to pull out another one, handing a second one-hundred dollar bill to him. “She doesn’t leave here without one of us, got it?”
Buffy’s head whipped up, knowing Spike was talking about her. Glaring, she watched as the bouncer eyed her up and down, and nodded with a slight calculating smile.
“Great,” she grumbled, “He’ll probably drag me into an alley and rape me, and he just got paid for it.”
“You’ll be fine,” he replied, “He wouldn’t do anything that would get him killed.”
“Oh, you mean like, working as a bouncer for this hellhole?” she said sarcastically, following him in.
As they stepped inside, the pulsing of the music became almost unbearably loud. Buffy could feel the floor vibrating beneath her feet as they walked through the narrow entranceway. As drunk-looking men stumbled from the opposite direction and pushed their way out of the club, Buffy couldn’t help reflexively grabbing onto the back of Spike’s duster with one hand.
Once in the club, she looked around the main dance room. The effects and lights, combined with the fast music, were enough to give anyone a headache, but what riveted her attention were the couples dancing dangerously close, bodies grinding against each other, practically having sex on the floor. Frowning unknowingly, she turned to look around, seeing a large bar off to the side, and several booths and tables around the dance floor.
Seeing her look, he hid an amused smirk and grabbed her wrist before looking for where the rest of them were. Finding them, he started working his way across the room, dragging Buffy closely behind him.
She didn’t seem to care about being pulled forward, suddenly noticing the leers and looks that several guys she passed were giving her. An unsettling feeling crept up into her body, and she tried to ignore them, turning the other way to look at the bar.
That wasn’t much better either, as her gaze found several other scantily-clad women, giving her the once over as they rolled their eyes and snubbed her by turning away. Not knowing why all the girls seemed like bitches, she inwardly noted that they all looked like dominatrix trash anyway.
Before she knew it, she was being pulled to sit in a booth, joining the rest of the gang. Cordelia gave her outfit a once over before turning to Spike and asking, “Do you think it’s a good idea to be bringing her here already? You know how they get.”
“Well, I guess you’ve got a fun night ahead of you, then,” he replied, looking at Cordelia with a readable expression.
“Oh, no you don’t! I am not playing babysitter tonight, thank you very much. I already have plans that don’t include my head exploding.”
Annoyed, Buffy interjected, “Hey! I don’t need a babysitter!”
Everyone at the table laughed as Buffy sent them all a glare, feeling really belittled in that moment.
Faith got up out of the booth and pulled Gunn with her, “C’mon stud. Let’s go find us some hot ass. I bet I can get more numbers than you can tonight.”
As they walked away, Buffy heard Gunn reply, “This time, you can’t pretend you’re a lesbian. Now that’s just playing dirty.”
Just then, the “waitress” came up to their table with an empty tray in her hands. Buffy’s gaze slowly looked up to see the person now in her view, disgusted to find this girl was wearing underwear with fishnet over them and nothing else. She had on high leather boots and a tight bustier that pressed up her tits until they looked like they would spill over. Already wanting to retch, Buffy saw that the girl had on dark make-up with the exception of bright red lips, and dark hair, which fell in wet curls around her cleavage.
She smirked, looking around the table before her eyes settled on Spike, “I haven’t seen you in a long time, Spike. What can I get for you today?”
Buffy averted looking at either of them, her gaze going out to the dance floor in an attempt to not make a snarky comment about the girl’s lack of taste. Ignoring her table as Darla, Lorne, Illyria, Wesley, and Cordelia ordered their drinks, she was snapped back to reality as she heard the trashy waitress.
“And the new girl?”
Reluctantly, Buffy turned back to the table and saw the waitress looking her up and down, an expression similar to those at the bar earlier. Voice clipped, she forced a sarcastic smile, “I’m fine, thanks.”
With a look of attitude on her face, the waitress turned away and Buffy was presented with the tactless view of the girl’s ass cheeks through the fishnet. She should’ve figured it was a thong. Turning her head, she saw Spike ‘appreciating’ the view as she expected and scoffed before turning away, feeling his eyes on her now. ‘Men are so easy.’
“What?” Spike asked with a smirk.
Looking to him briefly, she had an irritated expression. “Nothing.” Ignoring him, she focused on the loud beats of the music, scanning the club as if it was an interesting sight.
Leaning in close, his arms closing her in towards Cordelia, he whispered close to her ear, “What’s the matter? Jealous, luv?”
Pretending to not notice how close he was to her, she laughed at the ridiculous notion. Buffy turned to look him in the eyes, and had to restrain herself from moving back, finding his face inches from hers, eyes boring into her own intently. “You really, really wish.” Without breaking their mini-staring contest, Buffy said in a casual tone, “Cordelia, can you let me out?”
Cordelia looked to Spike, giving him a questioning look.
Seeing the exchange, Buffy rolled her eyes and added, “To go to the bar. I want to get a drink.”
“I thought you didn’t want anything,” he reminded with a raised eyebrow.
She gave him a fake smile, “I changed my mind.”
Giving her an amused expression, Spike briefly signaled to Cordelia that it was ok. As Cordelia started getting out of the booth to let Buffy by, Spike warned, “You better stay where I can see you.”
She could feel the gazes of strangers close enough to hear them, their snickers only serving to piss her off and make her more defiant. But she decided to take another approach, a cool smile on her lips and a mischievous glint to her eyes. “Don’t worry, Spike, I won’t - I know how much you like watching me,” her lips parted as she finished, giving him an arrogant smile at the look of surprise on his face, and the suppressed laughs of everyone that was listening. When she saw his eyes narrow and his mouth begin to open to speak, Buffy turned and hurried towards the bar.
While making her way through the crowd of people, she glanced back and saw that Spike’s ‘path of wrath’ was stopped when a strange man came up to their table.
‘Bloody bitch,’ he thought, about to drag her back, hearing and sensing the muffled laughs of his gang, and others around him. He got up and stepped out of the booth, only to have his path blocked. Reeling his head back with a scrunched brow, his annoyance grew, seeing Buffy disappear into the crowd. But a look at the offender made him momentarily forget the blonde girl.
“Rack,” he said shortly, the others at the table standing up as Rack’s men came to surround them.
“Spike,” he greeted in his low, scratchy voice. “Heard you were looking to talk to me.”
“And what makes you think that?” Spike asked coolly.
Rack snorted, looking at him with a smug expression, “Well, I just figured, since you were having me followed.” At Spike’s slight flickering expression, and the straightening of his shoulders, Rack added with a slight smile, “Quite poorly, I gotta say. You guys must be slipping.”
Jaw tight, Spike signaled to the rest of them, and turned back to Rack. “Let’s take this some place private.”
Rack grunted in approval, indicating to his men to follow.
Before following, Spike looked to Cordelia.
Knowing what he was going to say, she nodded, “I’ll tell Faith to keep an eye on her. I’m coming with.” She muttered under her breath, “No way I’m playing Mother Hen all the time.”
Seeing his nod as he left with the others, she quickly scanned the crowd for Faith or Gunn. Rolling her eyes, she went up to Faith, who was currently wedged in between two guys, dancing seductively with her hips. “Faith!” she yelled over the music, barely able to get the other girl’s attention.
“Busy here,” she yelled back, grabbing one of the guy’s asses as they grunted their approval.
“You have to watch Buffy,” Cordelia’s patience wearing thin. “We’re going upstairs.”
“Damn, you’re such a killjoy,” Faith grumbled as she continued to dance. “Where is she, anyway?”
“By the bar,” Cordelia yelled over the people cheering as the song changed to a faster beat.
Faith took a moment to look up, seeing the blonde at the bar. “Yea, fine, whatever. Don’t worry so much – she’s not going anywhere.”
Cordelia sighed, leaving before she felt obligated to stay and watch Buffy. Not like she would get far in this part of the neighborhood anyway.
~
Buffy jumped up onto a barstool, turning in the chair towards the bartender. She wasn’t really there to get a drink – she just wanted to get away from them for a moment, even if there was nowhere to go. Looking towards the entrance, she wondered briefly about making a run for it, but remembering Miguel, she sighed and looked around the club.
“What the hell do you think you’re looking at?” the girl next to her spat out.
“Excuse me?” Buffy gave the ho a look of attitude. “Who said I was looking at you?” She eyed her quickly, noticing the distasteful leather top, the woman’s breasts almost falling out.
The woman stood up, angered, and Buffy had to control herself from backing up, her heart rate speeding up at the anticipation of trouble.
“If you think I’m going to let some new little floozy come in here and talk to me like that, you-,”
“Girls, girls,” a male voice interrupted. A good-looking dark-haired man came up to put both of his arms around each of their shoulders. “Let’s not end the night before the fun starts, Cecily. Bill, let’s get these two girls each a drink, on me.”
‘Cecily’ huffed, sitting back down reluctantly at the man’s offer. She glared at Buffy before turning around and starting a conversation with the girl next to her.
“So what’s your name, sweetheart,” the man asked in a smooth voice.
Her body rigid as his arm was still around her, she hesitated, “Buffy. My name’s Buffy.”
Seeing her discomfort, he let his arm drop and smiled, putting a semblance of space between them. Turning to face her fully, he noticed she was actually a hot piece of ass. His prospects were looking brighter tonight – he could tell this was her first time here – she would be easy meat. “Well, Buffy. I’m Scott,” he smiled genuinely, offering her his hand.
She took it awkwardly, looking around for any sight of the rest of them, but not seeing anyone. This guy made her nervous – the snarky bravado she was slowly building up with the gang seemed to dissipate immediately.
The bartender looked annoyed, “What drink will it be?”
Scott looked to Buffy, and she asked awkwardly, “Do you just have coke?”
Bill mock-laughed, drumming his fingers on the bar, waiting for a real answer.
“She’ll have an Adios, and I’ll have a beer,” he ordered for them. Seeing her confused look, he asked, “Girls like pretty drinks, am I right?”
“Um, sure,” she answered hesitantly, eyeing the blue concoction that the bartender put down in front of her. She took a sip cautiously, and had to control herself from not spitting it out, her face screwing up in disgust at the bitter taste. After a moment, she looked up at him with a smile, “Not bad.”
~
Faith looked around, noticing Buffy was no longer sitting at the bar. Reluctantly, she stopped dancing, “Alright boys, grope-fest over.” They tried to grab at her to keep her from leaving, but she shoved them aside without a second glance.
“You’re gonna fall behind,” Gunn yelled, thoroughly enjoying his own people orgy, a girl in front of him and a girl in back.
“Giving you a head start – you need it,” she yelled back, heading off to look for the annoying blonde.
Pushing her way through the crowd, Faith finally found her – bumping and grinding against some dickhead, and obviously totally plastered from the glazed-over appearance in her eyes. The guy was grabbing her ass, bringing her closer to his body.
“Hey, you ok here?” Faith grabbed her by the arm, getting her attention, the guy not even looking up to see who it was.
“I’m great,” Buffy yelled with a slur, throwing her head back as she continued to move her body to the beat of the music.
Faith shrugged, “Ok…” Feeling a hand grab at her hip, she turned to get a look at her new dance partner. Pleased, Faith forgot about the other two, smiling seductively at the guy before grinding back against his crotch.
~
“Where are we going?” her head lolled forward, feeling dizzy. Placing her head on his shoulder, she felt herself being lifted off her feet slightly.
“To get some fresh air,” he comforted, half-carrying her and half-pushing her towards the back, near the restrooms.
“Air is good. I like air,” she nodded in agreement, looking up at him with a dopey expression. Lightly smacking his face with her fingers, she giggled. “I feel like I’m floating.”
“Shut up, bitch.” He slammed her against the wall, her head knocking against it painfully.
Realizing what was happening, she pushed at his groping hands, trying to yell for help, but her voice struggled to be heard over the music. His hand squeezed her breast roughly, and she cried out. As she felt his hands reach for the buttons of her pants, panic laced through her body, her attempted blows sloppy from the alcohol in her system.
Her vision started to blur, the sweaty heat between their bodies suffocating her. Before she could pass out, the heat suddenly disappeared, and she looked up with foggy eyes to see Scott smashing against the opposite wall.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, you little fuck,” a voice warned.
Scott looked up, seeing who it was, and his whole demeanor changed. “Hey, I didn’t know she was with you guys, really.” Getting up, Scott backed up away from him with his own hands up, seeing the other man’s ready stance.
“Spike?” Buffy asked in a weak, confused voice, her head throbbing.
He looked up at her, and Scott took the moment to run away. Approaching her, he soothed, “Don’t worry. I took care of it.”
As her vision cleared, she realized it wasn’t Spike at all.
It was Angelus.
Cringing, she backed up reflexively, but she only hit the wall. Looking to both sides of her, she suddenly realized that she was far from safe.
“You ok?” He put the back of his hand up to her head.
Hesitating, she asked, “What are you doing? W-why did you help me?”
He chuckled as if it was a silly question. “We’re still a part of the same team, Buffy. At the very least, we stick together against our rivals.”
Not knowing what to think, she closed her eyes and just laid back against the wall. “Can we go now?”
Smirking at her drunken state, he perused her body before stepping forward to hoist her up. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” Any minute now, he thought…
~
Coming back downstairs after their little ‘talk,’ Spike looked to the bar. Buffy wasn’t there. Scanning the dance floor, he didn’t see her, but spotted Faith dancing wildly, Buffy nowhere in sight. ‘Fuck.’
“Where are you going?” Wesley asked, not getting an answer as Spike rushed off.
He pushed his way to the bar, immediately getting the bartender’s attention. “Where did the blonde go? Short, tiny thing, glares a lot?”
Bill thought for a moment as he poured someone’s drink. “Oh, that girl? She left to dance with some guy.”
His fists clenched as he got an image of some guy pawing all over her. He knew he shouldn’t have let her come. “Which way did they go?” he asked in a tight voice, already thinking of ways to wring both their necks.
“I think towards the back,” but before Spike could fully walk away, the bartender called out, “I’m pretty sure she was plastered too.”
‘Bloody hell,’ he thought as he moved faster, not caring who he pushed out of the way.
When the crowd finally cleared, the image he saw before him was like a book out of his past. His blood began to boil, and the only thing he felt was pure rage. He was always moving in on what was his. Seeing Angelus pick a vulnerable-looking Buffy up off the wall, Spike rushed forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, slamming him back.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he practically growled, grabbing Angelus by the collar.
Angelus laughed as if he wasn’t pinned against the wall, “What’s the matter, Spike? I’m just helping her up.”
“Like hell you are, you son of a bitch,” he pushed Angelus up against the wall more, wanting to pummel him until his brains came out of his nose. Just then, a crowd gathered.
“Spike!” Cordelia stressed, trying to get him to realize what he was doing. A few others came running over – Darla, Gunn, Wesley, and Illyria – and most importantly, Rack and his men, who looked amused.
“Ah, looks like there’s trouble in paradise, eh boys?” Rack laughed, the others joining in.
Angelus lifted his brow at Spike, amused smile on his lips. Normally, he would never let anyone get the upper hand like this, but this…it proved something, something he would use in the future to get rid of Spike once and for all.
Body rigid, he forced himself to let go of Angelus, glaring at him with pure hatred. Low enough so only he heard, Spike warned, “Stick with the crazy bitch. You two are meant for each other.”
Angelus’ eyes narrowed at that, and he straightened. “Once again, you’ve proved just how I’m the better leader; you’ll always be love’s bitch.”
Spike stepped forward menacingly, stopping as Gunn stepped in between them. “Hey, man. Let’s go.” His eyes gestured to the watching crowd, everyone undoubtedly perceiving this as a weakness in the gang.
Finally calming at the realization of what he just did to their image, he collected himself and turned to Buffy, grabbing her half-unconscious form from the wall and heading out the back.
“Hey, nice chat. We’re really petrified now,” Rack called, causing the rest of the men to laugh one last time before they went back to their fun.
~
Once outside, Spike told the others to go ahead. As soon as they left them, Spike grabbed Buffy by the shoulders, his grip cutting into her skin. “What were you doing with Angelus? I told you to stay out of trouble.”
“Stop,” she said, her discomfort written on her face. When his grip loosened slightly, she looked up to see his still-angry eyes. “I didn’t do anything with him. He- he helped me.”
That answer only angered him more - she was his to help. His. Grabbing her by the arms, he forcefully slammed his lips to hers, clinging her to him as he attacked her mouth with pent-up anger and passion.
She mumbled against his mouth, unprepared for the sudden invasion and fervor of his assault. His mouth was devouring hers, punishing and possessive all at once.
But what was, at first, brutal softened slightly, his tongue beginning to caress hers, and she was hardly aware that they were both clinging to each other.
He pulled back from the kiss, his grip tightening as he demanded, “Helped you with what?”
Her eyes still glazed over, she frowned. “Huh?”
“What did Angelus help you with?” he gritted.
“He…saved me…there was this other guy…Scott…he gave me a drink…h-he wouldn’t let go of me,” she babbled, her eyes closing, gripping Spike’s arms for balance.
“He touched you?”
Turning abruptly to the side, she vomited violently.
He reacted quickly, diverting the aim of fire away from him as he kept her from collapsing. Cringing at the sight, his anger melted at the look of discomfort on her face.
Putting a hand to her sweaty cheek and lifting her face to look in his eyes, he continued with less anger in his voice. “I want you to stay away from Angelus,” he ordered, “Do you understand?”
She nodded half-heartedly, her unsettled stomach occupying most of her mind.
“What ever he says to you is a lie, Buffy. I want you to stay away from him,” he stressed. “He’ll kill you, for no other reason but his own entertainment. Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” she exasperated, a pleading quality to her drunken state. “Can we just go now?”
Sighing, he relented, “Yea, let’s get you back.”
~
In the car, she seemed to sober up, her head rested against the windshield as she stared sullenly out the window.
“I told you, you shouldn’t have come,” he broke the silence, his anger at her growing again.
She didn’t answer, merely staring at the passing scenery, the night’s events a blur, surreally played in her mind. Buffy didn’t understand what had happened in the back, what had happened with Angelus. She wasn’t sure if she mattered at all in that situation, knowing that Spike and Angelus had an ongoing rivalry. Besides, she was “property,” she thought bitterly. This world was too harsh, and she felt miniscule in it. Just when she thought she was getting some of her dignity back…
“What did you do with Parker?” she asked quietly, her voice not as strong as usual, but still composed. She didn’t turn, only waited for his reply.
He drove, hearing her sudden question but not answering immediately. After a few minutes, “He’s dead.”
She turned slightly to look at him for the first time, not really surprised at his answer.
“He bled to death.”
She sat back again, closing her eyes, and wondered, was it the only way out?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: I almost split this up into two because last time I gave a long chapter, it seemed to have less response than normal (at first) and I thought I didn’t keep people’s attention, which discouraged me. But, I figured it has been a long time, and the entire read would be better. I guess I’m trying to say, I’d really appreciate a review :)
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