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Author's Chapter Notes:
I’m back :) Thanks for putting up with my incredibly long in-betweens! I’ve been swamped with school and moving, which hopefully will die down at the end of the month when I get my spring break. All your reviews are wonderful - thank you!
~


Buffy tossed and turned, her brow furrowing in discomfort. A thin layer of sweat formed on her skin as she found herself trapped in darkness, with the sound of Angelus’ voice taunting her.


”Screaming only turns me on,” he whispered in her ear, trailing a finger down her arm.


“Why are you doing this?” she asked, helplessly, feeling the bounds on her wrist tighten, but she could see nothing around her, or even where she was.


“Why? Why are you doing this?” She heard herself repeat several times, but soon the voice had changed.


“Why are you doing this to me?” Parker’s pleading face looked up at her, but she stood above him with a relentless gaze.


“Because I can,” she replied without remorse, “because you killed my mother.” She turned her head to the side and pointed, showing him the lifeless body of her mother in the corner, and she heard him beg for mercy.


Turning back to her mother, she saw herself in her mother’s eyes.


Buffy looked sheepish, “Ok but this time, I really got an A. Ok, A-, but that still counts right?”


Joyce grabbed Buffy in a big hug. “Of course it counts. I’m so proud of you!” She pulled back to look at her in the face. “I told you taking a break from Parker would be good for you.”


Blinking, her mother was gone, and she was alone in a dark room with only the sound of her own sobs.


Opening his eyes at the sound of her whimper, Spike looked over at her with a sleepy gaze. Her back was turned, but her shoulders were shaking slightly. Frowning, he moved closer and pulled her lightly by the shoulder to see her face.


She was crying – crying in her sleep, he realized.


“It's all right, luv. Shh, it's all right,” he soothed into her ear as his hand ran comfortingly down her arm, hoping it would end her nightmare. “It’s just a dream.”


Awaking, she turned around slowly to look up at Spike with a pained expression.


He wiped a few tears away from her face, causing her to shudder from his touch.


Misinterpreting it, he withdrew his hand.


But she reached up and looped her arm around the back of his neck, pulling him to her for a kiss.


Surprised at first, he returned the kiss and groaned when he felt her tongue enter his mouth. The fact that she was initiating contact only ignited more of the emotion he had tried to quell for so long. Pulling away, Spike looked at down at her. Not over 24 hours ago she had told him to not touch her; now, he could see the lustful expression on her face.


“Make me forget,” her voice was practically a whisper, suddenly feeling very insecure.


He nodded, the emotion stuck in his throat. Leaning down, he captured her lips again, caressing them with his own. His arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her body under his. His desire grew, feeling her press her body up into him before her fingers reached for his shirt.


Helping her, he shed his shirt in one move. Seeing her involuntarily lick her lips, his desire for her grew. Spike grabbed the edges of her nightie, looking into her eyes.


She put up both her arms, letting him pull the silk across her skin and over her head. She felt a breeze tickle across her before Spike lowered his mouth to her breast. Moaning, she closed her eyes and focused on the feel of his tongue caressing her soft mound.


He suckled at her skin, taking his time. He wanted to touch every part of her. He wanted to memorize her skin, the way she moved and reacted to him. He refused to acknowledge that it might be the last time, but a part of him still knew.


Realizing she was beginning to writhe against him for more friction, he reached for the straps of her panties. He pulled them down her legs achingly slow, aroused by the shudders he caused and his own anticipation.


When her panties were off and she was completely naked, she reached for the button of his jeans, her slick opening now ready for him. But he grabbed her hands, stilling her. Looking up at him with a frustrated questioning look, she dropped her hands back down.


“Not yet,” he managed to get out.


“I need-,” she began to protest, not able to take his ministrations any longer, but she was cut short when she saw what he was doing. Eyes widening, she saw him lower his head. Closing her legs, she asked incredulously, “What are you doing?” They had never, in all the times, done that before.


“Relax,” he said, one hand on each of her thighs. Massaging them, he tried to pry them open without too much resistance. “It’ll feel good, I promise.”


She wanted to say no, but the ache between her legs grew at the idea of his tongue working inside of her. Biting her lip, she let him open her legs and put them over his shoulders. Suddenly embarrassed, she opened her mouth to protest, but she gasped, feeling him kiss her. She bucked involuntarily, screaming as he plunged his tongue into her hot, slick, channel at the same time.


The sight of it – his head buried between her thighs was enough to send her over the top. Buffy felt her stomach tighten as she focused on the sight and feel of Spike lapping at her hungrily.


She tasted fantastic, and he cursed himself for never doing this sooner. Her reaction, the feel of her body nearing her climax, the juices that kept flowing into his mouth – all of it only aroused him more. His erection was already rock hard, but he wanted to make her forget.


She couldn’t take it anymore, and she came suddenly, rocking her hips into him as she clutched his face to her mound.


As she screamed out the end of her climax, he moved up to kiss her.


Tasting herself on his lips, her desire grew again at the implications, in disbelief that he had just gone down on her. This time when she reached for the button of his pants, he didn’t stop her but helped her.


“Now,” she pulled his cock down to her opening.


Letting out a sigh of relief that he could finally be inside her, he pushed slowly in as her channel stretched for him, surrounding him with liquid, hot heat. ‘God,’ he thought to himself as he struggled to control himself. Somehow, it had never felt like this before. Her hands were clutched at his back, her body flush against him as she gasped – everything about her was surrounding him this time; there was no sense of disconnection.


When he was inside of her fully, she ached for friction. Pivoting her hips up, she got him to start moving. She couldn’t think too much, or else she would realize what she had started. All she wanted to think about now was the feel of him against her and around her.


He started, slow at first, kissing her in between strokes. As both their desires heightened, he increased his pace, marveling at the way they felt together.


She gasped every time he drove into her, wanting him to go faster. The sweat between their bodies helped them slide against each other in need. Pulling at him, Buffy rasped, “Harder.”


Complying with a clench of his jaw, he ground harder into her, and faster, feeling himself near the edge.


She would never admit it to him, but the feel of his cock inside her made her…feel. Combined with his soft caresses, she often forgot all the reasons why she should hate herself for enjoying it.


Their moans and grunts of pleasure filled the room - the rapid pace of their coupling became desperate.


As he plunged deep into her a few more times, she lost her control and screamed as her orgasm hit, her body convulsing into his. Her whole body ignited and sang with pleasure as he started to come into her.


Closing his eyes, he collapsed on top of her with a satisfied groan.


Feeling exhausted, she closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep, too tired to do anything else, much less think about the reality of it all.


~~~


She sat at a bar, sipping her strawberry daiquiri as her eyes perused the room for hot guys. As usual, all eyes were on her – her dangerously short and tight red dress hugged her curves, making her the source of hate for every girl in the room.


“Hey, baby,” a dark-haired man slid into the stool next to her with a lascivious grin, clearly gazing down the V of her dress.


She turned and a look of disgust crossed her face. The man was one of those sleazy but good-looking types, with the emphasis on sleazy. He even had the whole unbuttoned-shirt-with-nasty-chest-hair-hanging-out thing going on. “As if,” she looked at him with disdain.


“Oh, c’mon. I’m sure we could have a lot of fun.”


“In your dreams, pal.”


“What? You think I’m not good enough for you or somethin’?” anger crept into his voice.


She ignored his change of tone, replying spitefully, “That’s exactly what I’m saying. If I were filet mignon, you’d be leftover mincemeat, if that analogy isn’t too hard for your pea-sized brain to figure out.”


His eyes narrowed, “You little slut. Do you know what I could do to you?”


It suddenly registered with her that she was staring at trouble. The bouncer she knew was off duty today, and he was usually the one who threw out the guys that bothered her.


“What is your deal?” she muttered before quickly grabbing her purse, frustrated that this jerk was ending her night early.


“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He grabbed her arm roughly as she got up to go.


“Get your slimy hands off me,” she said incredulously, fear slipping its way into her emotions. She pulled but he kept a strong grip on her, and she began to panic as she could already feel the bruises forming.


Suddenly, like a blessing, a stranger interjected, “Hey, hey – that’s enough. Get your hands off her.”


Without debate, the slimy man let go of her after seeing who it was, walking away with wide eyes. Stunned, she looked up at her savior: a good-looking, dark-haired guy dressed in a sharp, black button down shirt.


“Oh, wow – who are you? The godfather?”


He laughed, “Not even close, but one time I did give him a nice little black eye - that jerk’s always in here causing trouble.”


She smiled, her flirtatious goal coming back into her mind. “I’m Cordelia, by the way. And just who am I thanking for saving me?”


He reached out a hand to shake hers and smiled, “Angel. And it’s no trouble at all.”


*


Some moments it would be ok – sometimes Buffy numbed herself into not thinking about what would happen to her if Angelus won. It all didn’t matter because it was hopeless anyway. Even the beginning of Cordelia’s story failed to rouse her concerns.


“So he charmed you? Don’t tell me he made you fall in love with him first?”


Cordelia scoffed bitterly, “I would never love him. His charm hardly lasted a second.”


*


She screamed desperately, running down the dark alley. As her heel broke, she struggled to not fall, looking behind her with frightened eyes. But he was already there.


She felt his arms lock themselves around her - one around her waist and the other on her mouth.


Panting heavily, he yanked her head back and breathed on her neck before saying in her ear, “Be a good girl and don’t scream,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Or I will rape you to death.”


A sob choke through her as she felt the hopelessness seep into her. She could only walk forward as told and hope that someone else would come to her rescue.


*


Other times, like this one, the thought of it began to suffocate her.


Seeing Buffy’s expression, Cordelia asked again, “Are you sure you want to know?”


She nodded in answer. She would probably regret it later, but she needed to know.


*


Groaning, Cordelia’s eyes struggled to open as the pain shot through her body. She could feel the bruise on her head throbbing. A cold draft brushed across her, and with sudden clarity, she realized she was completely naked, and bound by all four limbs.


Looking around in panic, she saw ‘Angel’ standing there with his shirt off, leering down at her with a dark expression. So much darkness in his eyes – something he had skillfully masked when she had first met him.


“God, what did you do to me?” she could sound nothing but helpless, her exposed nudity worsened by the fact that her legs were spread and tied to the respective bed post. “Where am I?”


Ignoring her, he gazed down at her full breasts and voluptuous curves, her skin so tan and perfect he hardened from the thought of ruining it. “I’m going to show you what it feels like to be fucked into oblivion.”


Another pang of fear shot through her. “Why? Why would you do this?”


“I want to make you regret that you’ve been living the life of a rich little bitch. I want to see how much it takes to break you.” He moved around the bed, in front of her exposed cunt, and smiled evilly.


“Get away from me, you sick bastard!” she screamed, struggling against her binds as she knew what was coming. Looking around frantically, she halted when she saw the small table that was a few feet away. Like some sort of sick, perverse, “doctor” scenario, it had several weird metal objects on it – knives, clamps, a leather belt, and things she couldn’t even name.


As she stared at him with pure fear, she heard him say, “If you’re lucky, I won’t have to use them.”


But unfortunately for her, she wasn’t.


*


Gasping for air, Buffy sank down along the inside of her bathroom door. The fight was today.


Today, her fate would be decided.


Rape wasn’t even really a question. But even worse, would he torture her too? Mutilate her? Pass her around when he was done? Would he ever be done?


She jumped, hearing the banging on the other side of the door. Realizing Spike had been calling her name for the past five minutes, she reluctantly got up to open it.


“What?” she asked in tired annoyance.


“You alright?”


“Don’t I look alright?” she asked dryly, ignoring the memory of his soft touch on her flesh. After a moment of no reply, she sighed and turned away, unable to hold his long gaze. Buffy couldn’t stand to look at the concern in his eyes any longer.


Exhaling, he said, “I’m not going to lose,” for about the hundredth time in the past few days.


She shook her head with her back turned, “You don’t know that.”


“I’m not going to lose,” he grated with determination, his fists clenched tightly.


“That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your life up for grabs, is it?” There was nothing she could do – her entire fate rested in his hands. Yet again, she felt helpless.


“There’s still a chance he’ll change his mind, and if he doesn’t, I won’t lose,” he insisted. Hearing her shortness of breath, he frowned and tried to grab her arm, but she evaded him.


“Why can’t you just let me go?”


Searching her eyes with regret, he couldn’t give her what she wanted to hear. “I can’t. You know no one’s allowed to leave.”


“Then you’ve just sentenced me to a life of rape,” she paused briefly, “but that’s either way, isn’t it?”


Hearing her say that wrenched something in his heart. “Is that what you still think?” he couldn’t hide his pained expression that she would say that, even after last night. It had been anything but.


She turned to him and replied spitefully, “Still? Since when did it stop?” She felt the need to hurt him, because she could do nothing else. And because she didn’t want to remember the weakness she had let herself show.


“You kissed me first yesterday and asked me to make you forget, or do you not remember that?”


She flinched, hearing her words stated back to her, but she recovered, “So you take me up on it after I just had a nightmare and was too vulnerable to be alone?” She expected him to become angry or indignant, but he didn’t.


Instead, a look of hurt flashed across his expression before he looked down, struggling with his emotions. “I won’t lose,” he repeated once more when he could find no other words. He turned away, angry at himself. He realized that as long as sex was involved, he would always lose.


~


Adrenaline pumped through his veins as Angelus grinned, circling him. Everyone surrounded them - shouting, yelling, practically asking for blood – but it was a blurred mass of chaotic sounds which he drowned out. Spike saw Angelus’ mouth move but heard nothing. Because his attention was on her.


They locked eyes for a moment. Would it be the last time she was his? The last time he could make sure she was safe? Despite his assurances to her, he felt fear. His control and composure when it came to Angelus had slipped away. And all it took was one person.


Angelus caught the direction of his glance after Spike didn’t seem to hear him. Smirking, he reassured himself of his decision in picking Buffy, even though he still had doubts. The idea of having Amy – a source of control over Rack – did not lack its appeal.


“If you want, after I win you could watch me fuck her. In fact, maybe it’ll be a public viewing,” he rubbed his chin in mock contemplation.


Snapping back to Angelus, Spike’s anger and disgust only fueled his adrenaline. “So everyone can see your small dick?”


Angelus’ eyes narrowed.


“Just for that, I’ll make sure she bleeds.”


With a snarl, Spike launched at him, smashing his fist into Angelus’ face and erupting a chorus of shouts.


But Angelus wasted no time recovering, backhanding Spike roughly with a pissed expression. “You’ll never be better than me,” Angelus gritted out as he sent Spike flying back onto the ground.


Spike jumped back onto his feet and cracked his neck. Seeing Angelus about to throw a punch, he ducked as Angelus’ fist went swinging above him. As he came back up, he delivered a swift uppercut that had him reeling back with a surprised look. With a surge of power entering his body, Spike grinned, “Who are you reassuring here, peaches? Yourself?”


Expression darkening, Angelus charged him and slammed him against a wall right after the crowd jumped out of the way. “I’ve always been better than you. Why do you think Drusilla came running to me?”


Narrowing his eyes, Spike pushed him off roughly. Grabbing Angelus by the collar, he was able to pick him up and fling him backwards several feet, despite the difference in size. And he replied sarcastically, “Maybe because she’s a psychotic whore.”


Angelus flew forward, exchanging a series of punches with Spike. “Because you’re pathetic. No one will ever want you, William.” The last word was combined with a painful punch to Spike’s face – one that he clearly could have blocked. He kicked Spike in the gut, smiling as he realized he had struck a chord.


Spike exploded in fury. Grabbing Angelus, he brought his face down to smash harshly against his knee. “I’m not William anymore.”


Off to the side, Buffy scrunched her brow in confusion, sensing the change of demeanor in Spike. His moves were no longer calm, yet deadly – they seemed to include a hint of desperation that wasn’t there before.


And it was something Angelus saw.


Catching his fist, Angelus pushed him back as he licked the blood off his lips with a cocky expression. “Who are you reassuring here, William?” he mocked before slugging Spike in the face three times in succession.


Spike tried to block the shots, but couldn’t. His left eye was bruised and he could barely see out of it now. His mind was a hazy mess of painful memories and harsh realities. All he could hear and see were everyone’s disdain and disappointment.


Angelus grinned again as Spike’s eyes showed his loss of focus. “No woman could ever love you, William. You’ll never be good enough for anyone.”


Buffy felt the panic seep in as she watched Angelus beat Spike with ease. “What the hell is he doing?” she asked, desperately.


Cordelia shook her head in confusion, “I don’t know. He doesn’t even look like he’s trying anymore.”


“Oh god. He can’t lose,” Buffy shook her head in denial. He promised me. Buffy put a hand to her mouth, seeing Spike take a rough shot as he fell to the floor.


Angelus laughed, seeing Spike spit out blood. “What did I tell you? Not even a contest. You give up, boy?”


“Never,” Spike managed to croak as he slowly lifted himself up.


“Let me help you there,” his tone was insincere. Grabbing him by the collar, Angelus lifted him up so that they were staring face to face. “I’ll tell you what, Spike. You throw in Amy too, and I’ll even let you have Drusilla. That is, if you can manage to win.” Laughing, he grinned as the others cheered him on, with choruses of “finish him off!” ringing through the room.


“Well? You up to the challenge? Just think, Drusilla back in your arms,” Angelus mocked, knowing he was one step away from winning.


Through his hazy gaze, Spike looked beyond Angelus’ shoulder for the briefest of seconds, and saw Buffy. The look of worry on her face. Was it for herself? Or for him?


And he remembered what he was fighting for.


He threw Angelus backwards with a newfound burst of energy, knowing he couldn’t lose. There were so many things at stake, but most of all, he had promised. And he would die before letting Angelus follow through with his taunts and threats.


Punching him roughly, he snorted at Angelus in disdain, “You always were a cocky bastard.” Kicking him, Spike sent Angelus flying across the room. The crowd flinched, seeing Angelus slam against the wall with a sickening crack.


Falling to the ground, Angelus’ fury and outrage blinded him as he quickly got up to attack with a growl.


But Spike easily dodged his efforts, ignoring the pain that shot through his body. He heard nothing else, saw nothing else. His entire focus seemed to click into place as he smoothly blocked Angelus’ attempts. Each hit he threw was perfectly calculated and deadly - the crowd knew the odds had changed.


A kick to the gut. A punch to the face. Another. And another. And another.


It took him a moment to realize that his hands were covered in blood and he marveled at it, staring back down at Angelus’ bloody face. It gave him a perverse sense of satisfaction that filled him with power. “Do you give up, peaches?”


“In your dreams,” Angelus sputtered as he panted and tried to wipe the blood away.


Grabbing Angelus by the neck, he lifted him off the ground and dragged him over to the wall. With a steely expression, Spike began to smash Angelus’ head against the wall repeatedly.


Buffy had to turn away, seeing the blood oozing down the wall.


Dropping Angelus, Spike lorded over him. Kicking him in the side, he saw no protest from Angelus as shouts of outrage and shock surrounded him. “I win, bitch.”


He was about to step away but he stopped. Lifting his half-unconscious form off the ground again, Spike added one last thing, “I wouldn’t want your whore if you begged me to take her.” Letting go of his hold on him, Spike walked away in exhaustion, the pain seeping back into his body. But it didn’t matter, because he had won.


~


She followed him, surprised that he hadn’t even looked over at her after he won. If he had, he would’ve seen her look of utter relief, and perhaps, gratitude.


Knocking on his door, she waited for what seemed like forever before he opened it. Flinching at the sight of his battered face, she stepped into the room and he could only step back.


Avoiding her gaze, he stepped away and let her close the door. She had come to him. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. But he didn’t want her to see him like this.


“I’ll help you clean up,” she offered lamely, not able to find the words she needed to say.


As she walked toward the bathroom, he looked up, remembering Amy was still in there. “No, wait, Buffy – it’s ok-,” he began.


“Oh my god.” Buffy covered her mouth as her face paled.


“I didn’t have anywhere else to put her,” he tried to explain, walking over to her. But when he looked where she was looking, he knew that wasn’t what she was paling over.


He didn’t know how, but Amy was dead.


Her wide, lifeless eyes were staring up at the ceiling; her mouth was slightly open.


“What did you do to her?” Buffy asked in shock.


“What? Nothing. I…,” he shook his head, not knowing how she could’ve just died. “She was alive the last time I saw her,” he protested. ‘Shit. Shit, shit, shit,’ he thought as he ran his hands through his hair.


The room suddenly felt so small, and she couldn’t star at the sight of Amy’s lifeless body anymore. She ran out of there, Spike following her.


“Buffy,” he called, feeling a desperation seep into his bones. She thought he killed her. And no matter what he did or did not do, he had.


“I can’t stay here,” she said, her eyes still looking around in a daze. With a final glance filled with mixed emotions, she turned and left the room.


And as much as his bruises hurt, the constriction around his heart hurt most of all.


~


A/N: Yes, I did mean the sex scene to be different from all the others so far, if anyone was confused.

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