Beads of sweat began to form on his skin as he breathed heavily and punched continuously. Pounding the bag with swift jabs, the muscles of his arms flexed and glowed with forming perspiration.
Brief thoughts flashed through his mind – Angelus, Dru, the lost money. He knew why he was irked by Angelus and Drusilla – they were out to torture him, break him down in front of everyone. The money just reminded him of the pressure he felt. There was always pressure, pushing down on him, consuming his life, creating the man he was.
And then there was her. At that moment, she frustrated him most of all…because…he didn’t know why. Why should a stupid little chit bother him? How was she different from any other they picked up and turned into a fighter? He didn’t know what made him do it – what made him trade for her that first day. Spike told himself it was lust.
He punched the bag fiercely with a clenched jaw, jolting it backwards into Gunn.
“Dude, what’s got you all worked up?” Gunn asked as he held the bag back into place on the other side.
Spike panted, stopping a moment to wipe the sweat rolling down his face with the back of his arm. “Nothing,” he breathed out gruffly as he resumed his sharp punches, his focus only on hitting.
Gunn raised a brow in question, but kept silent and let Spike take out his aggression. With a few more quick jabs, Spike pulled back and stopped. His chest rose and sank as he pushed back his shoulders, feeling that the tension was mostly gone.
And his senses panned out, reality coming back to him as his focus was no longer on the punching bag in front of him. He could hear the weapons clanging, the punches flying, the shouts in the background as everyone trained.
“That’s enough,” Spike said disinterestedly to Gunn. Picking up a towel from a bench on the side, he began to towel off, burying his sweaty face in the cloth and rumpling his hair into spiked disarray.
“Spikeee,” a voice teased.
He inwardly groaned, but looked up at her with a hardened expression. “What do you want, Harm?”
She moved slowly, sensuously closer to him and ran her finger down his chest in a zigzag pattern. “Did you miss me?” she smiled coyly.
He slapped her hand away and bent down to pick up a bottle of water, ignoring her. “Can’t say that I did.”
Turning the cap and throwing the bottle back to guzzle it down, Spike disregarded her presence as she openly stared at his chest with an appraising smile.
“Oh c’mon, Spike. I know you do. Remember how good I feel?” her voice lowered seductively, both hands returning to his chest and beginning to run up his abs.
Dropping his water, he pushed her back violently and pinned her to the wall of the gym. His expression was pissed and annoyed as his hands placed a bruising grip on her shoulders. “Don’t try to toy with me, Harm,” Spike warned in a low voice, eyes boring into her.
“You liked it just fine a few days ago,” she shot back, eyes angry at the way he was pinning her roughly to the wall. Not that it was foreign to her – they had played it rough plenty of times – but this was different. He wasn’t just playing.
He didn’t answer, but rather just glared at her as he kept his hold.
“Let’s fuck,” she said as she let her lips open seductively, eyes becoming playful again.
Spike pushed off her and stepped back slightly. “I’m done with you, Harm,” he said curtly. At her questioning look, he smirked and added, “You’re yesterday’s news, baby.”
Her eyes widened as she realized he was serious. He was really done with her. Desperation crept into her at the implications of what would happen. “Spikey, please,” Harmony began begging as she tried to plaster herself against him, “I can still make you feel good.” She began to run her hands up and down his body, pressing up against him, but he shoved her off of him violently, once again.
He almost felt sorry for the chit. Almost. Spike knew what it meant for her now that she was no longer his fuck-toy. On the outside, he held his hardened expression.
“Spike, you know I can’t fight them off,” Harmony’s panicked face was pleading with him.
“You’ve had a year to learn it proper. It’s not my bloody fault you’re slow as hell,” he replied with a shrug.
“But Spike-,” Harmony began.
“Harmony! Get your dumb bimbo ass over here!” Darla yelled, looking angry that it was her turn to train the nitwit. Darla stormed up to her and grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her back over to the mat.
Watching the crestfallen expression on her face, he almost felt sorry for her. Why didn’t he?
And then a small body was shoved into him. His hands automatically came up to steady her, and he pulled his head back to look at the offending person.
“There ya go, Captain,” Faith joked, having thrown Buffy his way.
Buffy was pushing away from Spike, but his hands just tightened their hold on her arms. “Let go of me,” she gritted out, resistance fading in energy.
“It’s cute how you try,” he smirked, and then eyes traveling down, he gave her an appreciative leer. Her leather top gave him a nice view of her pushed-up tits and when he looked up at her face, he saw a pair of furious eyes glaring at him.
Buffy tried not to notice his current sweat-laden state, or the way he was staring at her with a hungry gaze. Removing her hands from where they gripped his arm for balance, she spat out in disgust, “You’re a pig.”
“Oink, oink, baby,” his voice dropped to a low and sexual tone.
She made a noise of disgust and looked away from him, not wanting to see his leer or his stupid smirk.
“Darla!” Spike yelled, not taking his eyes off of her.
Darla interrupted her annoyed expression towards Harmony and looked up at the sound of her name.
“Train both of them,” he ordered, shoving Buffy towards them. Buffy stumbled forward, but didn’t fall. She whipped her head back around to glare at him, and he just grinned at her, before leering at her ass.
“Is there some reason I’m the one stuck with both incompetents on the same day?” she asked in an annoyed tone.
Spike didn’t bother to answer, turning away already. But Eve and Lilah walked past the three blonde women and Lilah commented, “Maybe Spike’s trying to tell you you’re second rank.”
Eve crossed her arms and pretended to look thoughtful, considering the truth in Lilah’s words as Darla glared at them. “You know, I…I think you may be right there, Lilah.”
“Ha!” Darla put on an incredulous expression. “You’re the one to talk! Everyone knows you are the most useless member on your side, Eve.” She smirked as Eve looked angry at the insult, and added, “Don’t kid yourself.”
Eve’s glare turned into a cocky smile of her own. “You’re just upset because Lindsay told everyone how frigid you were in bed after he got with me.”
Darla’s eyes widened in fury and she lunged forward, causing everyone around them to rush toward them and pull them apart. Illyria came in and shot a warning glare to Lilah, telling to back off, and Faith pulled Darla off of Eve.
“You bitch!” Darla spat out to Eve, pushing Faith’s hands off her as she stood on her own.
“Hey Dar, you know she’s just pulling your chain, girl,” Faith added. “Everyone knows you would kick her ass in two seconds, so let it go. Not worth your time.”
Spike stalked over to the commotion, wondering what the hell it was now. He looked at what appeared to be a near-chick fight and rolled his eyes. “You two,” he said to Eve and Lilah, “Get out. Now.”
They glared at him, but slowly began to walk away, knowing that they were outnumbered.
“If you birds are done, get the fuck back to training,” Spike demanded with an impatient tone.
Darla huffed, trying to calm down from the encounter with the Bitches, and turned back to the two girls. She rolled her eyes – the fact that she had to train them both was not helping her mood.
~
Spike tried not to focus on them. He was lying on the bench and lifting weights, willing himself not to listen to the sounds of her groaning in pain each time Darla showed her how it was done.
~
“Will you two stop fooling around!” Darla lectured as she pulled the two cat-fighting girls off each other.
Buffy yelped as Darla grabbed a handful of both their hair, pulling them apart. “This is not a mud wrestling match,” she snapped. She pushed them back in the opposite direction as the two glared at each other hatefully. Darla turned to Harmony and said in a patronizing voice, “Harm, use your real punches.” Her face hardened into a serious expression, “Before I kick your ass myself.”
Harmony nodded, not wanting to piss off Darla more, and Buffy braced herself for the attack.
Harmony brought her fist back and threw it forward, aiming for Buffy’s right cheek, but Buffy clumsily threw her body out of the way onto the floor. Looking annoyed that Buffy had the audacity to move, Harmony glared down at her and kicked her in the stomach. Buffy groaned, but her hands reflexively came up to grab Harmony’s leg, and she pulled as hard as she could, whipping her off her feet.
Back hitting the hard mat, Harmony cried out as Buffy struggled to her feet and held one hand to her pained stomach. She glared down at her, huffing as the pain of Harmony’s sharp boots lingered, causing her anger to rise.
“Get her while she’s down,” Darla instructed to Buffy.
Buffy hesitated for a moment, before realizing she would lose her upper hand if she thought too much. Ignoring the pang of morality that went through her mind, she turned to face her opponent, who was now getting to her feet with an angry look.
~
Spike watched the brief look of hesitation on Buffy’s face and his expression hardened. Throwing his sweaty towel aside, he walked over to the display and watched them do a poor job of fighting. Buffy was breathing heavily, staring Harmony down as they both caught their breath.
Her chest rose and sank, and she felt the tight leather begin to swish against her skin as sweat formed beneath her clothing. Spike took notice quietly, eyes briefly focusing on the way her lips parted as she panted, and the glow of perspiration on her face. But as he looked at the expression in her eyes, he noticed there was something missing there, something that he had seen directed at him before.
And then Harmony ran forward quickly, spearing Buffy to the ground as she began to choke her. Buffy clawed at the hands that were around her neck, making gagging sounds. She thrashed her body in an attempt to throw Harmony off of her, but to no avail.
“You stupid bitch,” Harmony ground out as she continued to tighten her grip around the other blonde’s neck. Buffy coughed and gagged, trying to wrestle free, her fingers managing to get under Harmony’s grip a little.
“Hit her!” Darla yelled to Buffy, frustrated that she was just letting herself be choked.
Buffy hands shot up and she tried to grab Harmony’s neck, hoping to inflict the same effect and get her to let go. Harmony let go of Buffy’s neck in order to stop her and Buffy gasped in relief, taking that moment to quickly buck Harmony off of her with a renewed force.
“Enough,” Spike demanded in a loud and firm tone, clearly pissed off.
The two blondes panted and Buffy rubbed her neck which now surely would be bruised.
“That was utterly pathetic,” Faith commented, shaking her head. “Like two Barbie dolls in a hair-pulling contest.”
“What am I supposed to do with these morons, Spike?” Darla began to rant, “I show them how to punch, they start clawing anyway. They’re useless! Both of them!”
Spike didn’t answer, his silence was agreement enough. He was staring at Buffy with an unreadable expression as she glared back at him with hostility and contempt. “I’ll train the Barbie.”
The others gave each other looks before turning back to Spike in question. “You sure?” Darla asked with a hesitant look.
“Yea, now get out,” he ordered to everyone.
“Ohhh, I get ya,” Faith smiled knowingly, “nothing like some one-on-one combat leading into some frisky business, huh?”
The others laughed, confusion and hesitation forgotten as they figured it was a cue for them to leave so that Spike could have his fun with her.
Faith smirked at Spike and added, “One thing: we’re not cleaning up any mess you make in here.”
Everyone cleared out, and Buffy stepped back, farther away from Spike as she glared at him. As the doors shut, leaving them alone, he turned back to look at her.
“Stay away from me,” she ground out in a shaky, but angered voice.
“What the hell do you think you were doing back there?” Spike asked in a tight voice, ignoring her threat by taking stalking steps forward.
Looking confused, Buffy asked, “What are you talking about?” She moved back another step, but he was suddenly in front of her, inches away and looking pissed.
“Your pathetic display with Harm. You weren’t even trying.”
Buffy looked incredulous, “Not trying?? You call that not trying??”
“Yea, I do. When are you going to learn that it’s fight or die in here?” Spike demanded, eyes searching hers.
“What do you think I was doing!?” Buffy yelled, hands fisted.
He grabbed both of her shoulders roughly, “You were defending yourself. I asked you when you were going to start fighting.”
She flinched at the pain of his strong grip digging into her shoulders, and she pushed him back roughly. “Don’t touch me.”
Spike smirked, “I think it’s a little too late for that, innit?”
She glared at him, fury evident in her green eyes. “You’re a disgusting monster.”
To her surprise, Spike replied, “Then hit me.”
Taken aback, she hesitated, “W-What?”
With one fluid motion, he stripped his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the ground.
Buffy stepped back, panic taking over her body.
With a serious and tight expression, he stalked over to her retreating form and grasped her by the arms roughly. Buffy struggled in his arms, but he just said, “If I’m such a monster, then hit me. Give it to me good, Buffy.”
Her name coming from his lips felt violating, too personal for her own comfort. Somehow hearing it uttered from this man, the man who held her captive, raped her, was more unsettling and angering than the stupid little nicknames they all called her.
“Don’t even say my name,” Buffy gritted out, wrenching her arms out of his grasp, and punching him in the nose harshly.
His head moved back slightly at the impact, and he smirked, bringing his hand up to check for blood. It wasn’t the strongest punch, but from what he had seen, it was probably the most focused and non-catfight-like move she had succeeded in executing.
She moved forward again, adrenaline running through her veins at the satisfying feeling of hitting him. Her fist shot forward for another punch, but Spike caught it in his hand and twisted her arm, whipping her around so that he had her in a loose chokehold from behind.
“Too slow, luv,” he whispered into her ear. She shuttered from the chills that his breath caused against her skin. Against her bare arms and the exposed skin of her back, Buffy could feel his shirtless chest, and it only served to anger her. She elbowed him roughly in the gut, causing him to groan and release his hold on her.
She quickly spun around and slugged him in the face, but the punch lacked the power it needed.
Spike began to laugh in between breathes, confusing her. “I knew you were holding back before. I could see it in your eyes. It’s like you had a death wish, innit?”
Buffy continued to glower at him. “You’re insane. Why would I have a death wish?” she spat out in question.
“You tell me, sunshine. You’re the one that ran away to L.A., probably from some safe-and-cozy little burb with posh white houses. Am I right?” He raised a brow in question.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “If I had one death wish, I would wish you were dead.”
“Show me then,” he challenged, spreading his arms out in invitation.
Buffy charged at him, wanting to wipe the cocky look off his face. Both fists flying, she succeeded in catching him in the chin, causing his head to snap back from the impact. She continued to punch at him wildly, but Spike was too strong for her, grabbing her arms and suppressing her movements. She grappled with him, eyes blinded by the hate she felt for him, only wanting to make him hurt they way he had hurt her.
She tried to wrench her arms free, chest heaving from exertion and anger, but he just grabbed her by the waist roughly and pulled her to him, staring down at her challengingly.
Buffy glared at him defiantly, but the rush that was flowing through her body only drew her closer to him, the feel of his hard body thwarting her senses. He gazed down at her lips, distracted by the short breaths that were blowing against his face. His lust for her raged, intensified by the adrenaline of violence, and he slammed his lips to hers suddenly.
All of her senses told her to fight against him, because she knew it was wrong. Everything about this man, this place, was wrong. But the rush that coursed through her from the fight, the satisfying feel of skin punching skin, and most of all, the way his tongue was delving into her mouth and battling with hers – everything blinded her good senses and screamed to her in waves of wicked satisfaction.
Much to Spike’s surprise, she didn’t push him off, but instead grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer, plunging her tongue deeper into his mouth.
Inwardly pleased, he smirked against her mouth before hoisting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He pulled back from the kiss, both of them panting for air, but he quickly swooped in to kiss her neck possessively, making her gasp and arch into him. Feeling her body push into him, his cock hardened, and he stifled a groan before slamming her against the wall and kissing her fervently.
At the feel of her back hitting the wall violently, Buffy broke out of her momentary reverie and her eyes widened, placing her hands against his chest and pushing him back to break their kiss. “No, no, get off me,” she panicked, realizing what she had just done. Buffy tried to bring her legs down to the ground, but Spike held them firmly in place, furrowing his brows at her sudden change in attitude.
“What?” he asked in between heavy breaths.
“Get away from me,” she protested as he slowly moved in towards her neck with his tongue curled between his teeth. His tongue played with the soft skin of her neck as she weakly tried to stop him. In between seductive caresses, he murmured in a low voice, “That’s not the message you gave me a few minutes ago.”
She tried to ignore his ministrations as best she could, but her resistance was wavering. “Just let me go,” she whispered in a tired voice, closing her eyes to reign in her emotions.
“No.”
“Why? Why can’t you just let me go?” her voice took on a slightly desperate quality, her brain screaming at her to get away from him, but her body reluctant to take more action.
Pulling back to look at her with penetrating eyes, he replied in a serious voice, “Because you belong to me now.”
Closing her eyes, she hated herself as much as she hated him at that moment, because she had played with fire…and liked it.
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A/N: Some of you might be worried about Buffy. Well, rightfully so. If you take the title of the fic, the title of the last chapter, and the implications of this chapter, you’ll see where it’s heading. Part of the story, sorry!
Shameless pimp: Ashlee, Allison and I have started a new awards site! Go look around and nominate away!
