REDEMPTION
Chapter 9: ‘On The Trail To Mexico’
After riding for what seemed like days, but could only possibly be hours, the gang of outlaws, and Buffy finally stopped. At some non-descript cabin, again, at the edge of some cleared glen or dale.
Buffy had ridden, uncomplaining; mind you, in front of William, once again. Although, this made no sense at all, since there were two unused horses galloping beside the rest of them.
If Buffy didn’t know better, she could swear that William just wanted to keep her on his horse. She was placed on his saddle in front of him and under his watchful eyes. This way, he could rather hold her and control her. Or so it seemed to Buffy anyway.
As for Buffy, She had come to a rather startling conclusion, one that could not escape her.
There was no question in Buffy’s mind that she was truly going on a ride to Mexico. Nothing in God’s green creation was going to stop that now, at least it seemed so.
‘Well,’ Buffy snorted silently, in the most unladylike manner, ‘at least I’ll get to see some of the Country. I’ve always wanted to, even if this method is rather bizarre, even for me.’
The irony of the whole thing was not lost on Buffy, certainly. Even while she was a hostage, and there was no question of that. There was the littlest bit of her, deep inside her mind, that had to rejoice at this whole situation.
An unwilling hostage she might be, of course, but still, how unwilling was she? Truly? After all, William was handsome, smart and ever so daring, just like one of those heroes Buffy had read about in her many books and novellas.
‘Yeah, right,’ Buffy mused, ‘a hero? The man abducts you. Takes you against your will and for what? To get you in the hardest (no pun intended!) place you’ve ever been? Who knows what these desperados might be driven to do and now, you’re right in the middle of it!’
‘Of course,’ Buffy continued to mull over the situation, silently. ‘As long as I have William as my champion, how can I be at risk?’
It was true of course. William had made it perfectly clear that he had a claim on Buffy, which did work to her advantage. As long as Will laid claim on Buffy, at least vocally, then the others would respect that. In fact, the others seemed to respect, fawn over and just gush all about William Giles. All of them, except this Graham person.
This reminded Buffy of the precarious situation at home, in Redemption. Graham had shot Uncle Richard and who knew how that had turned out. She had this awful, icky feeling down deep in her tummy that…
“Do you own every empty cabin and shack from here to Mexico?” Buffy asked William with a raised brow. They had stopped at yet another seemingly deserted abode; one that just waited for them to occupy.
“I’ve got a lot of friends,” Angel chuckled as he rode up to Buffy and Spike. “Let’s just say that I’ve got connections?” The huge, dark-eyed man grinned at Buffy, roguishly.
“Hmmm,” Buffy muttered with a scowl on her pretty brow. “I just bet you do,” she whispered under her breath.
“Let’s get you down and into the place,” Spike whispered into Buffy’s ear. He felt like a monster, even still, to have put this angel through this, but there was no going back now. That was for certain.
Buffy noticed a bright blue, little stream, nearly a river, rushing by the dilapidated old cabin. Suddenly, she felt rejuvenated and full of energy, even after the long, dusty ride.
Her excited request was out of her mouth before she even thought about ‘who’ might hear it:
“Can I take a bath!” Buffy squealed like a young girl. “Please!” she yelped happily. “I could use a nice soak right about now and…”
Suddenly, Buffy remembered just where she was and who she was with. Her face turned bright red as the rough, desperate men began to laugh loudly at her.
“Oh, please do, Miss Summers,” Graham roared with laughter. “We won’t mind, right guys?”
As the men continued to laugh loudly, Buffy felt like disappearing into thin air and slinking off into the sunset. She was mortified that her innocent suggestion had sparked such an open display of male lust.
“Shut the bloody hell up!” Spike screamed at the rest of the men. “The lady just wants to bathe, something that all of you might think about,” he added maliciously.
With a wink and a smirk at his golden girl, Spike slipped of Midnight. He reached up to Buffy, hoping she would slide into his arms and relieved when she did just that.
“I really would like a swim,” Buffy offered shyly as she slipped into Will’s strong arms. “It wouldn’t hurt, really,” she added bashfully.
“Then a bath you’ll have, Princess,” Spike whispered back to her. “Even if I have to hold a rifle and keep the wolves at bay,” he added amicably to her, but shot a murderous glance at the other men.
If Buffy didn’t trust William so (where the heck did that come from? Trust?), then she would have been mortified by the offer. Instead, she smiled, coyly, up at her captor and scurried into the rustic, empty cabin.
‘Oh the little minx,’ Spike chuckled to himself. ‘She’s just adding more visuals to my ‘Buffy lust addled’ brain.’ He had to laugh, out loud this time. This little snippet of a blond girl had stormed into his life and turned it upside down. In just a matter of one week's time.
Angel rode up to Spike and reared his horse to a stop. “You know, Cousin,” the older outlaw chuckled, “you’ve got your hands full with that spitfire!”
“Don’t I know it,” Spike replied with a good-natured laugh. “She’ll be worth it though, eh?”
“Probably,” Angel answered, “she’s a real lady, she is and…”
Suddenly, the group of men on horses heard the shrill, terrified screech of Buffy, coming from the deserted cabin. Both Spike and Angel leapt off of their horses and scrambled into the cabin.
When the two men had run inside the dingy cabin, they were confronted with a very frightened young woman. Buffy was perched, atop a sturdy, dusty table; her face as white as flour.
“What is Princess?” Spike asked in a concerned tone.
“A rat!” Buffy squealed, terrified. “A big huge rat; big as a barn cat! He scurried right by my feet and ran for that stove there,” she choked out, pointing at the beat up stove in the corner.
“A rat?” Angel asked, trying to stifle a chuckle. “You’re a farm girl, Buffy Summers. Why would a little old rat scare the likes of you anyway?”
Spike glared at Angel, but then glanced at Buffy with a raised brow. “He’s got a point, luv,” Spike sighed. “A farm woman like you should be…”
“I hate rats!” Buffy screeched in her best high-pitched tone. “And this one is as big as a barn cat. I told you that!” She hissed at the two men, like an angry cat herself.
“Oh for Pete’s sake, I’ll get rid of the varmint,” Angel cursed as he began to move the stove. “A damn rat, for Christ’s sake,” the large man grumbled under his breath. “You’d think that a girl like that could take a little rat!”
“Give us a hand,” Spike ordered Buffy, gently, as he reached out his own left hand to lead her down from the table. “Angel’ll get rid of the nasty old rat and you and I will go outside. For that bath you wanted.” He couldn’t help but smirk at the little blond angel. She was all fussed up and anxious from the rodent and Spike decided to take this opportunity to use at his full advantage.
“Will the rat be gone,” Buffy whimpered, nervously, giving William her tiny hand. “When we get back from the stream?” She glanced, anxiously, at Angel as he bent down to examine under the offensive stove.
“It’ll be gone, sweet,” Spike purred at her. With a quick, mischievous wink at his older cousin, Spike led Buffy out of the cabin and to the stream. He took a quick assessment and decided to escort his little treasure down the stream a ways, away from prying eyes.
“You won’t peek, will you?” Buffy asked Spike, timidly. He grinned at her, charmingly he hoped, as he shook his head. “No, I won’t…” he began, and then stopped, abruptly. “Well, no, I can’t promise that, Princess,” he added somewhat regretfully. “You do bring out the devil in me, Buffy Summers.”
Buffy stopped her disrobing, from behind a nice sized bush and stared at William in shock. “You mean you’ll look,” she whined, her eyes wide in horror.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Spike chuckled wickedly. “But I’ll ‘try’ not to, I promise. That’ll have to be good enough I’m afraid, kitten. I really can’t promise more. I can promise this, though. I won’t act on what I see. Can’t that be good enough?”
William gave Buffy an almost sweet, sincere smile and she just melted at it. She remembered, briefly, what young Connor had told her earlier.
‘William would never force himself on me,’ she realized, again. ‘He’d never do anything to me I didn’t ask for or want,’ she decided firmly.
‘Oh, my Lord!’ Buffy almost fainted from her self-realization. ‘What am I saying? That I want William to…’
“Okay,” she blurted out quickly. “I’ll just finish here and slip into the water. Please make sure those other men don’t stumble onto us William. I’d just die of shame if any of ‘them’ saw me like this and all.”
“I’ll make sure,” Spike replied with a small laugh. “I’d rather shoot them all, rather then have them see ‘my’ girl in all her glory. No worries, Princess.”
‘Hmph,’ Buffy snorted, ‘his girl indeed. Whoever said I was his girl? My, but William Giles is a bit too big for his boots!’
Buffy slid into the lovely, cool water and sighed in pleasure. She waded out to the middle of the deep water, to cover her upper body and all. Only when she was fully submerged in the wonderful water did Buffy begin to splash her hair, neck and face with it.
Spike kept his back to the place where Buffy was splashing around in. Okay, he peeked maybe once, but she was properly submerged in the water and didn’t get to see anything but her lovely long neck and beautiful face. That was enough for Spike, for now anyway.
He chuckled softly in delight every time he heard his golden girl moan or giggle in pleasure at the cool water. This reminded Spike that he could use a good douse himself and he intended on taking a swim. As soon as Buffy was finished and he had ensconced her up in the cabin with his dad, or Angel and Connor. Spike trusted these men and the boy more then any of the others and knew his Buffy would be safe with them, completely.
Buffy giggled again and a sudden thought struck Spike.
‘I almost hope old Angel didn’t run off that bloody rat,’ he surmised with a smirk. ‘I bet Buffy would demand I sleep on the bed with her, if she thought the rodent was still someplace inside, eh?’
Spike thought some more on this rather pleasant idea and decided to tell Angel to claim the rat got away in the cabin someplace. The devil inside of the blond man just couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. It wasn’t like Spike would force himself on Buffy, or do anything out of line. He was sure Buffy understood that by now, right?
“I’m finished,” Buffy called from the middle of the large stream and Spike turned about to face her.
‘Jesus,’ he gasped at the exquisite sight before him, ‘Buffy looks like a golden water nymph!’
Buffy’s wet hair was wild and hung down her neck and shoulders, disappearing into the water that covered her to her shoulders. Spike swallowed hard and tried to ignore his dick, which was growing painfully hard by this time.
“I’ll turn back around, sweet,” he squeaked out, roughly. “You get your clothes back on and we’ll go see about that rat, eh?”
“Okay,” Buffy replied meekly as she waited for William to turn around and give her privacy.
‘Meanwhile, back at the Summers farm…’
“When will Daddy and the other men be back with Buffy, Mama,” little Hank asked Joyce with wide blue eyes.
Joyce set the bowl she’d been stirring eggs in down and looked reluctantly at her youngest and only son, Hank Jr. Weary, from lack of sleep, Mrs. Summers plopped down on a kitchen chair and took Hank into her strong arms.
Before she could answer her youngest, twelve-year-old Dawn sat next to them and wrapped her right arm about her mother. “Yes, when, Mother,” Dawn asked in a shaky voice.
“I don’t know,” Joyce replied with a sorrowful sigh. “Daddy wasn’t even sure himself, or so he told me before the posse left town. It could be soon, or it could be…”
Joyce didn’t finish the sentence, she couldn’t. There was a strong possibility that the Summers family might never see their darling Buffy again. However, there was no way that Joyce could bring herself to admit this to her children, or even herself.
“Hey, short stuff,” Dawn broke into her mother’s disturbed thoughts, “go out and get some more eggs from the coop, huh?"Henrietta should have a few by now,” the young teen added hopefully. Henrietta was the Summers prized laying hen and Dawn had neglected to collect her eggs this morning.
Little Hank leapt up, happy to be of help to his beloved older sister and mommy. He scurried out of the kitchen, oblivious to the pain his innocent question had evoked.
“Mom,” Dawn began quietly, “I’m not little Hank…I’ll be thirteen soon and you can be honest with me. Promise. Daddy and those men, that posse thing? They are not so sure that Buffy is ever coming home. Are they?"
Joyce nearly broke down and cried when her middle child asked that unspoken question. She had tried so hard, Joyce had, to keep it together since this whole nightmare had started. It was getting harder by the hour, especially since her husband had left them to go with the posse and get Buffy back.
“No,” Joyce whispered in a strangled voice. “None of us are so sure that Buffy will ever come home. Those men,” she continued weakly, “they’re desperate and dangerous, Dawn. God only knows what they might do to Buffy and…..”
“He cares about her,” Dawn blurted out suddenly.
“What? Who cares for her?” Joyce asked her daughter, very confused by now.
“That blond outlaw, the one they call Spike. He was staring at Buffy at the Church social, even though stupid old Caleb was there with her. Buffy was staring back, Mama, and it was obvious that there was ‘something’ between her and the blond man.”
“No Dawnie,” Joyce gasped, “that can’t be. Buffy would never fall for an outlaw and she was engaged to Caleb.” It then dawned on the older Summers woman that Buffy had indeed intended on breaking off with Caleb. Her oldest child had made it clear to Joyce that Caleb and her were not meant to be. When did Buffy come to that conclusion? It was right after the Church social that last Sunday."
“It can’t be,” Joyce whispered in disbelief, letting a lone tear slip down her right cheek. “Are you saying you think that Buffy went with this man, this Spike? Of her own free will?”
Dawn shook her head, firmly, “no, I’m not saying she went willingly. Willow made it clear that Buffy was taken by Spike, no question. But I agree with Willow and Daniel; I don’t think this Spike will let anything happen to Buffy, bad that is. Not by anyone, or by him. I’m telling you, Mama,” Dawn continued with conviction, “this Spike cares for Buffy, and I think she just may care for him too.”
Buffy nibbled at the spoonful of stew she had helped Connor put together. It seemed to be a hit, since the other men ate their portions right up, heartily.
With every bite she took, Buffy glanced nervously about her, and at the floor. Angel had alluded to the fact that he did not completely get rid of the nasty rat she had seen earlier. The thought of going to sleep, alone in some dingy cabin, with a rat running about? It truly terrified Buffy, maybe even more then the predicament she was in.
“So we’re going through Wyoming and Utah?” Riley asked, almost indifferently.
“Yeah,” Angel replied quickly, shoveling another spoonful of stew into his mouth. “It’s the easiest way, anyhow. Not a lot of law out in Wyoming or Utah. At least not yet,” the dark haired man added with a snort.
Buffy eyed the unusual man, Riley Finn, carefully. William had mentioned that the man’s mother was a Shawnee princess and his father was an Irish emigrant. This intrigued Buffy, if nothing else, mainly because she found Finn’s use of the mysterious peyote plant quite interesting. There had been a horse or two and some cattle, on Buffy’s father’s farm that had stumbled into a patch of peyote, or loco weed as the locals called it. The horses and cattle had never been the same afterwards. Once a horse, so local lore had it, had tasted the loco weed, they were never the same. No one rode a horse again, once they’d eaten some of the wild weed that grew in parts of Nebraska.
It was the same with cattle, but yet different. The milk cows that munched too much loco weed? It seemed that the beasts never gave milk again after, and that meant slaughter for the poor animals.
There was something about Angel, Connor, Riley Finn and yes, even Xander Harris that peaked Buffy’s interest. She meant to find out how these men had fallen into this life and where it might lead them. That meant one thing. Buffy had to ask William about his friends and fellow outlaws. Even if it meant needling the information out of him.
“Let’s go, Buffy,” Spike muttered as he tossed his plate into the makeshift sink by the wall. “We need to get you to bed, sweet,” he added with a smirk.
‘Oh dear Lord,’ Buffy gasped with a deep blush. ‘Does he have to make it sound so, so very naughty?’
They readied for bed, quickly, Spike and Buffy did. He tried not to look at her and she hadn’t looked at him for ages. Or so it seemed.
“There’s no sheets or blankets, sweetheart,” Spike offered, almost apologetically. On the bed I mean,” he glanced at the rather suspicious looking bed in the middle of the small room. “There is an extra, clean bedroll, Buffy,” he added quickly. “It’s a bit dusty for the ride, but it’s clean and you can put in on the bed and…”
“The rat,” Buffy whispered in a shaky voice. “Angel didn’t get the rat,” she continued with a whine. “I hate rats, William. One bit my little brother, a while back. He’s been sick, off and on since. I hate rats,” she trailed off in a whimper.
“Tell you what,” Spike offered in comfort, “I’ll put my bedroll, on the bed, next to you. We’ll each have our own covers, separate, but I’ll be next to you. I promise, Princess, I won’t try anything and I’ll be there, to protect you, yeah?”
Buffy seemed to ponder this offer, seriously, then she nodded with a shy blush. “Okay William. I think maybe I would like that. I hate rats,” she added, once more. “They’re…”
“It’s okay, luv,” he murmured tenderly. “You get ready for bed. I’ll turn my back and I won’t peek this time, promise.”
“Okay,” Buffy whispered timidly.
Once she had disrobed, down to her under things, Buffy slipped into the cozy bedroll. She tried very hard not to look at William as he stripped off his over clothes and joined her on the bed. In his own bedroll, of course.
For many moments, the couple lay silently together. Each of them lost in their own private thoughts for a while. Finally, Buffy broke the silence and asked the questions that had plagued her all day.
“Would you tell me, about your cousins, Angel and Connor? About Riley and Xander? I know some about you, Will, but I need to know about the others you ride with. Please?” Buffy pleaded.
Spike sighed, heavily, then grunted, “yeah, I’ll tell you what I can Princess. What do you wanna’ know?”
“Why Angel is here? Why his little brother is wrapped up in all of this? What is going on with Riley and Xander? Who are these women that Xander and Angel are married to and where do they fit in? I know it’s none of my business, William, but…”
“It’s as much your business, now that is, as anyone’s,” Spike mumbled in reply. “We made it your business when we stole you from Redemption, sweet. I’ll tell you what I know, but I can’t figure out why you’d care.”
“I care,” Buffy whispered as she turned to face him in the bed, ignoring all the convention that she knew. This was so wrong and Buffy knew it, truly. However, she had come to the conclusion that everything about this whole situation was ‘wrong’ and nothing was going to be the same for her again. Ever. So…
“Angel and Connor are my cousins, as you know,” Spike began hesitantly. “Their mother was my own mum’s older sister,” he continued, a hitch of pain in his tone. “Their dad and mum lived in Georgia, somewhere near Savannah. When the great War broke out, I mean between your north and south? Angel's Da left for the War and all." He fought on the side of the South, luv. Uncle Liam never came home, from the War that is," Spike finished on a sour note.
“Oh,” Buffy whispered. “Where is your aunt now?” She asked, curiously.
“Still in Georgia, or so I’m told,” Spike answered with an uncomfortable snort. “Why she allowed Connor to join Angel? Who knows?”
“Oh,” Buffy repeated, ashamed of herself for even asking. “What about this Riley and Xander?” She decided to change the subject from William’s family.
“That’s a little more complicated,” Spike sighed. “From what I’ve been told, Riley’s mum was a Shawnee princess, like I told you. His Da was an Irish whelp, come to America with his folks during some famine in Ireland. He met Riley’s mum in some Shawnee village, when she was a girl, younger then you. Traded two good steeds and some furs for her, Caroline, they changed her Indian name to later. Riley’s Da married his mum and moved her to a Kentucky farm.”
“How romantic,” Buffy sighed dreamily, even though she was more then shocked at herself afterwards. It was not right to vocalize such silly musings, especially in front of a strange man. An outlaw to boot!
“Angel told me that Xander’s family lived on the next farm, to Riley’s that is. The blokes grew up together, as friends. Riley’s Da went off to the war, with Xander’s father. Neither of them came back,” Spike finished in a strained voice.
“How sad,” Buffy said, sincerely. “My father went to the war too,” she continued softly. “He fought with the Union, for two years. Luckily, he came home to my mom and me. Dawn came soon after and…” She blushed bright red and felt the urge to turn her back on William again.
“You miss them?” Spike asked, suddenly. “Your family? You miss them, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Buffy whispered meekly. “I do.”
“Buffy, I…” Spike began.
“No, William, don’t. You made the decision for me, when you scooped me up from Redemption’s main street. We can’t go back now, can we?”
“No,” Spike muttered, sheepishly. “I guess we can’t, can we?”
“Tell me more,” Buffy ordered him with authority.
“After the war, Riley’s mum moved over to the Harris place, with that family. Xander’s mum insisted and they made a go of the place, for a while that is. Of course, Xander and Riley become more like brothers then ever and the extra hands helped Mrs. Harris. Unfortunately…”
“Unfortunately?” Buffy asked meekly.
“Riley’s mum, she got sick with the measles, from some blokes that came down from the north, after the war. Whites,” he continued somberly, “we take the measles pretty badly, but Indians? It’s usually kills them.”
“Riley’s mother? She died from the measles?” Buffy felt like she might be ill herself.
“Yup,” Spike replied with a shake of his blond head. “She died from them, Buffy,” he added sympathetically. “Xander’s mum tried to nurse Caroline Finn back to health, but it was a no go. After Riley’s mum passed on, Xander’s mum so weakened by the care giving, that she fell ill herself and died soon after. Xander and Riley never forgave the men who came to steal their farms and lives. They called them carpetbaggers, the folks down south did. When Angel rode through Kentucky? Riley was ripe to follow him into the outlaw life. Xander follows Riley where ever he goes and always will.”
“Their wives,” Buffy murmured, “what about them? They do not matter to Angel and Xander? At all?”
“They do matter,” Spike assured her, “but its bigger then that, kitten. Once a bloke gets caught up in this life, of bank robbing and such?" They're pretty much stuck in it, Princess. Besides, its not like Angel and Xander's wives didn't know what they were gettin' into, from the start.” Angel and Xander found them both, in a saloon, down in Virginia. I guess the way Angel, Xander, Darla and Anya see it? They saved each other.”
“Oh,” Buffy sighed again, unable to say much else. “I see,” she finally managed to add.
“Don’t judge them, Buffy,” Spike stated. “It’s easy to judge someone, when your own life has been pretty easy and…”
“My life has not been easy, William Giles,” Buffy grumbled impatiently. “Far from it, truly. However,” she added evenly, “I would never judge anyone. It is not my place, nor is it my nature.”
“Let’s talk of something else,” Buffy mumbled with a yawn. “Please Will,” she pleaded in a soft voice.
“Like what, sweet,” he asked gently, trying not to stroke his Buffy’s tender little cheek with his large, calloused hand.
“Recite some poetry to me,” Buffy ordered with a slight giggle. “Please?” She finished coyly.
“Oh, all right,” Spike snorted in frustration, but silently, he was thrilled by her request.
Buffy snuggled against William, against her better judgement, and waited for his magical prose to begin.
Spike cautiously wrapped his arms about Buffy and pulled her gently to him. He began to recite a particular favorite poem he had read somewhere:
‘Come away, come sweet love
The golden morning has broken
And all the earth and air seems
Sweet and pleasant…
Teach thine arms to embrace
And your sweet rosy lips to kiss
Our mixed souls in mutual bliss
Come away, come sweet girl and…’
Spike noticed that Buffy had fallen into a deep sleep, so he halted the prose.
‘Pity,’ he sighed silently, ‘I so wanted to finish the poem for her.’
His disappointment was short lived when Buffy snuggled even further into his body. She seemed to sigh in peaceful contentment and Spike could swear he heard her mumble ‘William’ in her sleep.
“Goodnight, Princess,” Spike murmured as he placed a quick, chaste kiss on the top of her soft, golden head.
“Sleep tight,” he added warmly, just before he fell off to sleep himself.
A/N: I hope this chapter was worth the wait. It’s kind of a bridge between the last one and the next one, which will be longer and even more Spuffy! I’m going camping on Wednesday of next week (oh yeah) and I don’t know when I’ll be able to update more of my fics.
Thanks for reading and please review, spufette.
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A/N: I hope you all read and review this, thanks, spuf.