“War is a turn on for it cloaks the men in a costume that conceals the limits and inadequacies of their separate natures.” – William Broyles Jr.
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Buffy groaned, the pain in her head interrupting her sleep. Opening her eyes, she realized she was alone. She hoisted herself up, and leaned against the headboard, clutching her pounding head. Vaguely, the night’s events flashed in her mind. Looking down, Buffy saw she was fully dressed in a nightgown. She put her hand to her face and realized it was clean and make-up free.
*
“I wanna sleep,” she groused as Spike tried to help her into the bedroom.
He held her by the waist as her body lunged for the bed. “You can sleep after we get you cleaned up,” he instructed, pulling her towards the bathroom.
“Get off me,” she squirmed in his arms, pushing at his face. Before she knew it, she was being shoved under the shower spray. She screamed, the cold water hitting her body and making her jump back. “You jerk! The water’s cold!”
“Maybe you’ll remember that next time you decide to get drunk,” he glared at her, shoving her back under the shower as she tried to get out.
“Bite me,” she yelled as she grabbed Spike’s hand and pulled him in.
“Shit!” He jumped, realizing it really was cold.
“Take that, asshole,” she said as she shivered.
He stopped, taking in her appearance. Her hair was plastered to her face, and she was shivering, but still, she managed to be a bitch while drunk. Unsuccessfully suppressing a smile, he pushed her back with his body and reached for the knob.
She yelped, jumping up.
“Relax. I’m turning on the hot water,” he said with a smirk as he tried to look through the water pelting down his face.
“Oh.”
The warm water hit their skin, and instant sounds of relief could be heard.
After a moment, Buffy saw the way Spike was staring down at her. “If you think I’m having shower sex with you, you are out of your mind. I’m not that drunk,” she managed to lift her chin indignantly, although in her sleepy/drunk state, she just looked more intoxicated.
“You flatter yourself, luv. Have you seen yourself drunk? Why do you think I’m running you under a shower?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.
“I hate you,” she said as her eyes closed from the comfortable feeling of water warming her body.
“Yea, I know,” he said as she plopped forward onto his chest, asleep. He shook his head, one hand holding her up against him as the other turned off the water.
Looking down at her, he warned, “And if you ever do that to me again, I’ll kill you.” He wondered when his threats started lacking conviction.
*
With a groan, she got up and went towards the bathroom. She stopped, the sound of a muffled yell reaching her ears. Frowning, she hesitantly stepped toward the bedroom door and turned the handle.
Blood-curling screams echoed throughout the halls. She paused, not knowing what to do, until the female scream reached her ears again. Closing the door to get dressed, she had a hunch it was coming from the training room.
~
“Why don’t you just admit it was Rack and end your misery?” Spike asked, signaling for Faith to back off for a minute.
Blood oozed from her strung-up body, her head down. Still, the brunette laughed through her pain, “I told you, it wasn’t us.”
At the sound of the door opening, they whipped around, seeing Buffy at the entrance.
Red. She saw red all over. Blood all over the floor, blood all over everyone, blood pooling around a strung-up girl in leather. Putting her hand to her mouth in horror, her gaze shot over to a blood-covered Spike.
“Get out of here,” his voice sounded cold and harsh in the silence of the room.
“What happened?” she asked with wide eyes, stepping forward.
“I think it would be good for her to see this,” Darla said, giving Buffy a cruel smile.
Buffy couldn’t believe the amount of blood splattered all over the room. A line of it trailed across Darla’s face, and Darla didn’t even care. Walking towards the strung-up girl, Buffy noticed she looked like one of those girls at the club. Face scrunching in disgust, she saw the open wounds in the girl’s body.
“Who is she? And what are you doing to her?” her tone was one of revulsion.
The girl began to laugh in amusement despite her tied-up state, “Who the hell is she? You accepting anyone to be a member these days?”
Faith backhanded her roughly, “Shut up. We’ll crack the jokes.”
She chortled, a little blood dripping down the corner of her mouth, “Rack will kill you guys when he finds out I’m dead.”
“God, Amy, you do have horrible taste in men,” Cordelia shook her head as she looked down at the battered girl in disappointment, unfazed by her warning.
Buffy’s headache increased and she felt sick, but she could not tear her eyes away from the sight. “Is this what you guys did with Parker? Strung him up and stabbed him until he bled to death?”
With a perfect good-girl smile, Darla said, “If only he was that lucky.”
Seeing the scrunch of Buffy’s expression, Faith supplied with a devilish smile of her own, “Don’t worry, B. Parker wanted to die,” the humor lighting her eyes, “he begged us to kill him once Illyria got to him.”
“He was weak. He’s better off dead,” Illyria said without expression.
Not too long ago, Buffy had guiltlessly beat Parker until he was unconsciousness. Now, seeing this slaughter about to happen, she was relieved she had chosen to walk away after that. It was easy to get lost in this world, clouded by violence and pain, but in certain moments, she remembered clearly just how wrong this place was.
“And so is she,” Darla tilted her head towards Amy. Walking over to her strung-up body, she grabbed a fistful of hair. “If we kill her, Rack will get the picture and stop interfering with our deals.”
“If that fight didn’t give them the message already,” Lorne grinned.
“Wait, is that what all this is about?” Buffy asked incredulously, remembering what she overheard so long ago.
They looked at her with raised brows and then turned back to Amy when she began struggle against the ropes.
“If you don’t want to watch, then get out of here,” Spike said without looking at her, the others closing in on Amy as her sudden bout of defiance threatened her confines.
“Spike, wait,” Buffy grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Don’t do this.” She cringed when she saw that her hand was now covered in blood, and her eyes widened at the large gash on his other arm.
He laughed, almost bitterly. “I have to.”
“Why?” urgency laced her voice, but trying to keep the others from hearing them as they continued to abuse Amy.
He turned and faced her, his eyes intense, “Because after last night, we had to prove we could still take them. We’re going to teach him a lesson for messing with us.”
Buffy noted the change in his demeanor and wondered how this had all happened. She shook her head, “Spike, it’s not them.”
Giving her a suspicious look, “What are you talking about?”
“I never told you-,” she paused, knowing she was about to give up her only bit of information to try and save this girl’s life, a girl who probably killed dozens of people herself.
Spike grabbed her by the arm, yanking her farther away from the others. With a tight expression, he asked, “Told me what?”
Hearing another piercing scream that ended in a gurgled noise, Buffy didn’t have to think twice. “It’s Angelus – it’s not Rack. You’ve got it all wrong.” Seeing his disbelieving look, she explained hurriedly, “I overheard Riley and Lindsey the night they tried to-…they were saying how Angelus wanted them to keep messing up your deals.”
“You’re lying. Even Angelus wouldn’t be that stupid,” he shook his head, his brow scrunched.
“Spike, if you kill her, you’re going to start a war, and it’s not them.” At his hesitant look, she admitted without a hint a remorse, “I never told you on purpose.”
At that, he seemed to get the meaning behind her words. She had been planning to use it against him. He just stood there and looked at her for a long time.
Giving her a cold look, he turned towards the others, who had their backs facing them. “Change of plans, people,” he announced.
The tone of his voice, combined with the pissed off look that he briefly shot her, made her wonder what she had just done.
“Take her to my room instead.”
Buffy turned to him, eyes widening, but he ignored her.
“You can not be serious,” Cordelia asked, the rest of them baffled also.
“Just do it. A few hours with me and she’ll tell us everything we want to know,” he grinned, stepping closer to a confused Amy.
“Spike, she’s all bloody. Don’t tell me you’re turned on by this,” Gunn looked puzzled.
“Well, I guess one of you better get the blood cleaned off her.” Beginning to leave, he added without looking back, “And move Buffy into another room.”
Buffy stood there, shocked, not believing her ears.
~
Buffy stormed into his bedroom, fury evident in her eyes. “You fucking bastard,” she gritted out, her fists clenched. Striding forward, she launched herself towards Spike, clocking him square in the face.
“Bloody hell, woman,” he yelled as he tried to grab her arms. Blocking her next hit, he pinned her arms down, looking into her furious eyes.
“I knew you were scum, but I should’ve known you were this disgusting,” her voice wavered, the anger clouding her emotions.
“Calm down – it’s not what you think,” he said, struggling to keep his hold on her.
She seethed, waiting for him to explain himself.
“You wanted me not to kill Amy. You think I can just tell them that I changed my mind? Decided to let her live after all? It doesn’t work that way, pet.”
She wrenched herself out of his grip. “So what? You’re just going to make her your new fuck toy? I didn’t know I was going to be thrown out in exchange for her life!” Trying to pound on him in frustration, Buffy began to feel the panic of what this meant for her.
“Buffy, calm down,” he struggled with her, trying not to hiss in pain as one of her blows came in contact with his newly-bruised ribs. Frustrated, he grabbed her by the shoulders and backed her into the bed. “Buffy! Nothing’s going to happen to you,” he yelled, shaking her.
Chest heaving, she pursed her lips in anger, not believing him. “And what are you going to be doing with her in here all night? Knitting sweaters?”
Hearing the jealousy behind the anger, Spike stared down at her fuming expression with a tilt of his head.
“What?” she demanded, hating the way he was looking at her.
He leaned down, capturing her lips with his, only to feel her struggle against him. He looped his arm around her waist, trying to get close enough to kiss her soundly.
Her hands pushed at his chest, furious that he would try to solve this by distracting her. When he kept persisting, she bit him on the lip, hard enough to make him jump back and let her go.
“What the hell are you trying to do? Bite off my lip?” he touched his lip and looked at his hand, seeing no blood.
“You’re insane if you think I’ll let you touch me again after you fuck her,” she spat at him.
“Bloody hell,” he exhaled, “do you actually think I would want her? Not to mention, her guts are practically spilling out of her stomach.”
Cringing, she began to calm, knowing how unlikely it was that anyone would want that girl the way the shape she was in right now…except for maybe Angelus. A memory of last night flashed in her mind.
Angelus 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.”
He laughed as if he wasn’t pinned against the wall, “What’s the matter, Spike? I’m just helping her up.”
She looked down in thought, piecing together what had happened in the past few hours. Looking up to him with suspicion in her eyes, it suddenly became very clear. If Spike said nothing was happening to her, and he didn’t want Amy for himself, but he was making everyone else think that he did…
Spike was going to trick Angelus into wanting Amy.
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A/N: Anything that’s not clear just adds more intrigue ;)
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Wow! Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews :D – they were great to read during dreadful finals. And I hope everyone is having a great holiday season! This chapter is a bit short, but I hope to have more soon…