[Reviews - 837]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 7873 times

- Text Size +




~*~*~*~


She struggled with the ropes that bound her wrists, as the two leaders started to fight.


Cordelia saw Buffy’s movements and stood up. She came right up to her and Buffy stilled when she saw the dark look in the woman’s eyes. Cordelia reached for the ropes and harshly yanked them tighter, re-binding them painfully so that they cut into Buffy’s wrists. Buffy cried out in pain, and Cordelia gave her a menacing look.


“Learn something. Just because I talk to you, does not make me your friend. I may look like an ex-valley girl, but that only gives me the ability to cut you ten ways with a nail file, got it?” Cordelia twisted Buffy’s arm in an odd direction, making Buffy’s body arch as she gasped.


She closed her eyes and nodded quickly, relieved when Cordelia released her arm. Opening her eyes and trying to regain her composure, she shot Cordelia a look of hate, which was returned with a smirk.


“Let’s go, peaches,” Spike said as he circled Angelus.


“Shut up and throw a hit,” Angelus retorted, circling and poised to fight.


‘Fine, you wanker,’ Spike thought before he lunged forward. He faked a right punch, leaning his body back slightly. Instead, he quickly threw out his left fist in an uppercut to Angelus’ jaw. Surprised, Angelus staggered back from the blow. He regained his footing and gave Spike a smirk as he dabbed his face to see if there was blood.


“The pup’s been practicing, I see.”


Spike’s eyes darkened at his insult. Angelus quickly came forward and threw two punches, one with each fist. As Spike’s head reeled back from the impact, Angelus gave him a hefty kick to the gut, making Spike double over.


The members around them began cheering for their respective leaders, and Buffy watched all this with disgust. They were like ridiculous animals, hooting and hollering at a violent display of male superiority. She pulled at the ropes to adjust herself, the rough material digging into the sensitive skin around her wrists.


Spike’s hunched-over form rose, and he quickly gave his opponent a harsh backhanded blow, followed by a knee to the gut.


“Why are you guys split into two sides?” Buffy asked Cordelia with a scrunched brow. She flinched as she watched Angelus hit the floor and hit his head with a loud pang.


“We weren’t always. Angelus was the leader, but Spike started bringing in more money and getting more respect,” Cordelia replied as she continued watching the fight.


Buffy could hear the resounding crack in Angelus’ neck as he worked out the kink and shrugged off the fall like it was nothing.


Buffy furrowed her brows, “Why don’t they just split completely?”


“They know that the gang is better off together. They just like to have these male pissing contests to show the crowd who’s got the shit,” Cordelia said matter-of-factly.


“So they just sleep with all of the women?” Buffy asked with a scornful and disgusted tone.


Cordelia didn’t answer right away, face tight and eyes dark with malice. “No. Only the ones that come in with no skills,” she glared at Angelus.


She looked in the direction of Cordelia’s glare as her words began to register their meaning. Buffy closed her eyes in disgust, but they immediately shot open again at the sound of renewed cheers.


“Go in for the kill!” someone shouted.


Spike was curling his tongue behind his teeth, circling Angelus’ momentarily downcast body. Blood was running down the side of his mouth, and Buffy looked over to Angelus to see he was already bleeding too. Angelus jumped up and lunged at Spike, slamming him against a wall as the crowd parted to avoid the fury.


“You better hope Spike wins,” Cordelia said with a shake of her head.


“Why?” Her face flashed with a look of fearful hesitation.


“Let’s just say I don’t bruise easily, but I was left different shades of purple,” Cordelia spat out, arms folded and glaring at the ongoing fight.


“Oh my god,” Buffy whispered in disgust and disbelief. Cordelia’s implications must be only a mere shadow of what was to come if she couldn’t get herself out of here. She was surrounded and tied up. It seemed impossible, and her body desperately cried for escape. The ropes tug deeper into her wrists, and she thought she felt blood begin to surface. Buffy’s gaze darted between the two bloody and battling leaders, and wondered which one would be worse, or if there was a difference at all.


“Is Spike nicer?” Buffy asked, looking for a shred of hope but remembering the knife he pointed at her stomach.


“None of us are nice,” Cordelia replied as she turned to stare Buffy straight in the eyes. Buffy straightened herself and looked at Cordelia with a suspicious look.


“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about how to get out of here, aren’t you?” she sneered knowingly. Buffy pursed her lips and didn’t reply, eyes becoming defiant.


“Well news flash: you’re never leaving. You’re only making it harder on yourself by getting your hopes up.” Cordelia leaned in closer and said in a low, solemn voice, “Once you step into this world, they never let you go.”


Both of their heads shot up at the sound of metal sliding against the cement floor. Connor had thrown a knife across the floor to Angelus, earning a chorus of angry yells from the other side. Angelus swiftly picked it up and lunged forward with a jab, but Spike craftily jumped back, avoiding a blade in his stomach by mere centimeters.


“You always did need other pointy objects to make yourself feel manly,” Spike taunted. As Angelus stabbed forward again, Spike stepped off to the side and quickly wrenched Angelus’ arm until the knife fell to the floor. Spike used his free arm to throw a hard punch to the face, and another, and another.


Angelus roared in anger and threw Spike off of him. As Spike stumbled back, Angelus rushed forward and whipped Spike’s legs from under him with a low spin kick, sending him roughly to the ground and smashing his head against the cement. Spike shut his eyes as sharp pain lanced through his head.


Licking the blood off his lips, Angelus picked up the knife and came to hover over Spike’s form. He stood above him, both of his legs on each side of Spike’s body.


“Oh look, I won again,” he grinned cockily. “I guess I’ll be the one enjoying Barbie, huh?”


As Angelus was about to plunge the knife down into Spike’s stomach, Spike swiftly swung out his own knife and stabbed it forward, stopping a mere inch away from Angelus’ crotch. Angelus froze in his almost-kneeled position, his own knife pointed at Spike’s chest, both of them in risk of a stabbing.


“You willing to lose your dick? Because I’m thinking a stomach wound won’t be so bad,” Spike said smugly. “It’s not like I haven’t been stabbed before.”


They stayed like that for a few moments, the crowd hushed to an eerie silence as the waited for the next move.


Angelus’ eyes fueled with anger and he threw his knife down loudly, stepping back and turning to leave as he cursed under his breath.


Spike’s people jeered and yelled for their victory, while Buffy’s emotions bounced between relief and trepidation. This only meant she was one step closer to him and many steps away from finding a way out.


Spike leaped up onto his feet with a cocky smile and the members proceeded to give him praising slaps on the back. He brushed them off and locked eyes with Buffy, sending her a leer. Stalking over to her, she felt a jolt rush through her body. Fear? Anxiety? Or something else?


She tried to look at him with bold eyes, but her heart was beating a mile a minute. She really hoped he couldn’t sense her fear. Buffy tried to control her deep breaths to appear calm, but Spike noticed her little pants of fear and lifted his brow.


He looked at the sparkles that seemed to gleam in her hazel orbs and grinned. Without looking away from her, he ordered, “Cordelia, move your stuff to the east wing. And find Barbie here a temp lockdown room.”


Buffy’s façade faltered at the words ‘lockdown room.’ ‘Are they going to dump me in some dark hole?’ she thought with a panic. She absolutely hated confined spaces. She once had a dream that she was stuck in a coffin.


Spike began to turn and walk away, but Buffy blurted, “Wait!”


Spike turned back to her in surprise, sending her a questioning look. “Yes, your majesty?” he said mockingly.


“If you let me go, I can get you money – a lot of it!”


The crowd burst out into laughter and Spike chuckled at her naiveté.


He waited for the crowd to quiet down before he continued with a cocky attitude, “Listen, pet, you’re not going anywhere. Do you really think we need your petty cash?”


Buffy looked defeated at her poor attempt at negotiation. She was at her wit’s end, and for the first time since waking up in the trunk of a car, she let her eyes brim with desperate tears. Spike’s expression hardened at the sight and he quickly turned away from her, storming off through the corridors.


~


Cordelia was roughly dragging one of Buffy’s bound arms along through the hallway. “Where are you taking me?” Buffy’s voice was filled with fear as the countless images of dark pits and torture chambers flashed through her mind.


“Why, us girls get to go room shopping,” Cordelia said cynically.


It was a straight and long hallway – one of four – two hallways for each side of the gang. The lights were dim and the doors were all the same sort of green stone, giving the place a creepy horror movie look. It didn’t help that they were underground. Buffy’s attention shot up to a set of double doors made of marble.


“Keep moving. That’s Spike’s room. You’ll get to re-visit it soon enough,” Cordelia said in an implicative tone.


Buffy’s eyes darted around in panic, wondering where she could run and how far she could get before they took her down. Cordelia just gave her arm a yank, and pulled her to a complete stop in front of one of those green doors.


“If you don’t want to have major facial re-constructive surgery, then I suggest that you stop trying to plot your getaway. I would take you down before you even moved a step, and if by some freak chance I broke a nail and let you move three steps, someone else would kill you before you could say ‘Loreal,’” Cordelia finished with a smirk as she turned the key in the lock.


She pushed the door open and shoved Buffy in roughly. Buffy staggered forward and tried not to fall, and the sight that she met was shocking, to say the least. It was a small room, but the carpet was a plushy crimson red sea. She moved her gaze up, mouth gaping open at the sight of the clean twin bed adorned with silky ivory sheets. The room was connected to a bathroom, and she walked forward to peer inside it. Everything was adorned with marble, and though very simple, she was shocked at the quality of it all.


“This is the lockdown room?” Buffy asked incredulously. Her heart actually did a jump for joy. She was relieved beyond words that she hadn’t been shoved into some grimy pit with rats crawling all over it.


“What did you expect? A page out of Pirates of the Carribean?” Cordelia lifted her brow. “There are no windows and no weapons in here. Don’t bother trying to get out.” Cordelia took out a gun from behind her and pointed it at Buffy.


Buffy froze at the sight of a gun.


“Turn around,” Cordelia ordered. Buffy complied slowly. Cordelia walked up to Buffy’s back and shoved the end of the gun into her back, eliciting a gasp. She used the other hand to reach down and untie Buffy’s ropes. After Buffy’s hands were free, Cordelia stepped backwards towards the door, still pointing the gun at her.


Cordelia stepped outside of the doorway, but before she closed the heavy door on Buffy, she added, “Someone will be back to get you later.”


“Wait-,” Buffy whipped around, but the door slammed in her face.


After the door shut, Buffy sprang over to it and started to pull on the edges, since there were no handles from the inside. After her biggest effort, it wouldn’t budge and she gave up, exhaling and flopping down on the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers along the silk, amazed that this is what a captive got.


Snapping back to business, she stood up and rummaged the entire room for something she could use as a weapon. Cordelia was right – there was absolutely nothing. The room only had the bed and a bathroom which consisted of a toilet, sink and small shower.


Defeated again, she went to clean the dirt from her face. Looking in the mirror, she winced at the sight of herself and wondered if it was even worth the struggle. And then a memory flashed in her mind.


~


“Oh my god, Buffy!” Dawn cried as she saw her sister sitting in a hospital waiting room. Buffy’s face and hands were drenched with blood, as her cold and empty eyes stared down at the floor. Dawn’s eyes filled with tears at the sight and she ran forward, flinging her arms around her sister’s form.


Buffy blinked, barely noticing Dawn’s presence until now. “Dawn?” she asked in a hesitant voice, still in a daze.


Dawn began sobbing as she clutched Buffy close to her. Buffy snapped back to reality and her face trembled as she turned to hug Dawn back. With her little sister’s body shaking with sobs in her arms, the tears began to flow again, and they both sat there weeping heavily.


~


Still staring at herself in the mirror, she wiped the dirt off, much like she had cleaned the blood off of her face that day.


~


“I want Lorne, Gunn, and Cordelia to work the Hudson deal downtown,” Spike ordered.


“And the Brickes deal?” Wesley inquired.


“Darla and Faith,” he replied as he took his blood-stained shirt off and tossed it aside. He stepped into his large bathroom and turned on the faucet. Tossing water against his face, he washed the blood away without so much as flinching. Spike grabbed a towel and buried his face in it, before looking up at Wesley who was patiently waiting.


“I want you and Illyria to watch for any of Angelus’ tricks tonight,” Spike put on a smug look, “He’s probably pissing himself with anger - ain’t it grand?”


“The look on his face was priceless,” Wesley smiled. “But what do you want me to do about the girl?”


Spike smirked, “Have someone get her some food and then bring her to me.”


~


They had fed her a pretty decent meal and of course, she had eagerly devoured it all to satisfy her growling stomach. But her smile was quickly wiped away when the blue-haired girl came to drag her away. All she said was, “Come.” And Buffy couldn’t help but be terrified of this woman dressed in tight leather, a cold expression permanently plastered on her face.


As Illyria dragged Buffy down towards Spike’s room, Buffy’s mind frantically tried to think of what she could do. She came up with nothing. They approached the door, and Buffy started to thrash against Illyria in protest, “No! Stop! Don’t do this to me!”


Illyria tilted her head slightly to look at her, before pulling her hand back and giving Buffy a resounding slap to the face. The blow hit Buffy like a hard rock, and she fell back in pain, clutching her face on the floor as tears sprang to her eyes. Illyria pulled her up, opened the door, and shoved her inside.


Thrown on the floor, Buffy could hear the door shut loudly behind her. Tears overflowing onto her face, she looked up to find herself in a gigantic room, completely filled with expensive looking furniture. The carpet was also a deep crimson red, but the silky sheets were black instead of ivory. He had deep mahogany chests and drawers scattered along the walls, and even a small dining set sat to one side of the room. A big screen T.V. was built into the wall, directly in view from the king-sized bed.


She darted her eyes around to look for him, but he wasn’t in sight. And then she saw a door which she guessed was the bathroom. Her heart started jumping as she quickly wiped her tears and looked frantically for something in his room that she could pocket as a weapon. Buffy walked up to one of the mahogany chests and began to fumble around in it, when the bathroom door opened and she whipped around in alarm, eyes wide.


“Why hello, princess,” Spike greeted. He swaggered out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of black, silky pj pants, his chest glimmering from the damp moisture of the shower. His hair was wet and tousled, and he rubbed a towel through it as he gave Buffy an amused look at the way she tensed up, and then he not-so-subtly perused her body.


She shot him a pure look of anger and tried to avoid looking at his chiseled chest, but it only made her heart pound faster at the implications of what was to come. “Don’t come near me,” she gritted out, backing against the drawers behind her, hands gripping the edges.


Spike smirked at her brass attitude, and started stalking over to her with a predatory look that sent a shiver of fear through her body. “I don’t think you quite understand the rules.” He moved closer and she inched towards the left, farther away from him. “I’m in control now, sweetheart.”


Before she could even blink, he had rushed up right in front of her, mere inches away from her face. She gasped at his close proximity and hit the drawer behind her. Spike grasped her wrists tightly against the chest of drawers and leaned in.


Panicking, Buffy started flailing and hitting Spike wherever she could, mostly on his bare chest. Her mind raced as she lashed out against him desperately.


“Stop thrashing, you chit!” Spike yelled as he tried to grab her arms and still her outburst.
He was finally able to wrap both of his arms strongly around her from the back, pulling her body to him in a tight grip.


Caving in, she whispered with her eyes closed, “Please don’t hurt me.”


“Only if you promise not to struggle,” Spike whispered into her ear in a smooth voice.


She shut her eyes tighter, and nodded slightly in defeat.


Spike let go of her and stepped away. Buffy was surprised at the sudden loss of contact. She opened one of her eyes hesitantly, before turning around to look at him in question.


He lifted his brow, amused, but not answering her surprised look. Instead he said, “Go take a shower and get cleaned up. You look like a mess.”


Her confused look melted into anger as she realized he was insulting her appearance and ordering her to look ‘presentable.’ She didn’t move from her spot.


“Do you want some help?” He waggled his brows at her with an amused look.


Buffy’s eyes widened and she tensed up more, nervously looking from the bathroom door to Spike. Seeing him start to step toward her again, she quickly opted to dart towards the bathroom door, enter it, and slam the door behind her in haste.


He thought to himself with a grin, ‘I’m gonna have fun with this one.’



~*~*~*~





You must login (register) to review.