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Chapter 3 – Getting Even


“Wh-what do you mean- murdered?” Buffy asked, looking at Spike as if he’d grown another head.

“You heard me,” he said in a low voice, reaching out and grabbing the hair at the base of her neck to maintain eye contact with her. “Sent us to prison for some trumped up charges after he killed my friend and claimed it was self-defense.”

“That’s not my fault,” she said in a soft voice, flinching from the pain in her scalp as he stared down at her in contempt.

“Maybe not,” he whispered, leaning in close to her. “But he took something from me…now I’m taking something from him.”

“You touch me and I’ll kill you,” she said, her jaw clenching when he smirked.

“I’m already touching you,” he said, watching as his other hand played along her shoulder before traveling lower.

Forgetting herself for a moment, Buffy closed her eyes. Realizing a second later what she was doing, she quickly swatted his hand away, glaring at him when he chuckled and took a step away from her.

“I’m still not clear on how I fit into this.”

“You must be a natural blonde,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “Have you not heard me the first few times that I’ve made it painfully obvious? Money, Princess. You’re a ransom. Nothing more than a piece of paper.”

“And you’re expecting my father to pay to get me back?” she asked incredulously.

“That’s usually what the definition of ‘ransom’ entails,” Spike replied suspiciously, narrowing his eyes on her as Buffy shook her head, tears shimmering in her eyes.

“He’s not going to pay to get me back. You’re deluded if you think he would pay a few bucks for me, let alone whatever it might be that you’re asking for.”

“You’re his daughter,” he said quietly, frowning when he saw the tears shimmering in her eyes. “He’ll pay to get his own flesh and blood back under his roof, safe and sound.”

“I’m nothing to him,” she said, looking up at Spike and leveling him with a glare. “I’m just another of his objects to show off at social functions. Oh, he’ll make the appropriate noise about wanting me to come home and being the determined father who will bring his daughter’s kidnappers to justice…but honestly, he’ll be secretly relieved that I’m gone.”

“And why should I believe you?” he asked, titling his head to study her.

“Fine,” she replied with a slight nod. “Don’t believe me. Find it out on your own. But when he refuses to pay whatever ransom you’re asking, you might want to think of a Plan B.”

“And why are you telling me this?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because I don’t want to wind up dead in a ditch somewhere just because you don’t get what you want. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we,” he replied after a moment, walking toward the door, pausing as he unlocked it with a key. “Bathroom’s over there, clothes in the closet. We’ll bring you something to eat in a little while. There’s no way to escape, but I’m sure you’ll knock yourself out trying to find a way out.”

Walking through the door, Spike practically slammed it as he clenched his jaw. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath, twisting the two deadbolts before walking down the stairs.

“How’s our favorite hostage?” Gunn asked from his position on the couch as he flipped through the TV channels.

Seeing Angel walk out of the kitchen, Spike stayed quiet as his gaze traveled back and forth between the two men.

“She says her father won’t pay,” he muttered after a moment, earning the undivided attention of his friends. “Said they don’t get along and he’ll be glad to be rid of her.”

“Well, of course she’s gonna say that, Spike,” Angel said with a smile as he shook his head. “She’s not going to say that he’ll pay anything we want.”

“Isn’t that what most people say?” Gunn asked, looking at Angel. “Wouldn’t she want to get out of the situation as fast as possible and tell us that she can get us anything?”

All three men exchanged glances, each asking their own silent questions.

Slowly closing his eyes, Spike took a deep breath as his jaw clenched. ‘Is this even worth it?’

* * * * *

Cracking his neck an hour later to try and ease the tension that was building, Spike slowly unlocked the door to Buffy’s room. Listening to the loud creak as it opened, his eyes widened when he took in the room.

Walking into the room, he angrily kicked the door shut, his eyes flashing as he took in the interior. All of the bedding was in a pile on the floor, and the mattresses lay haphazardly to the side of the bed frame. A splintered chair was in a pile beneath the boarded up window, the wood showing the deep scratches and grooves from the force that was inflicted.

His anger rose as he took in the pile of books beneath the overturned bookshelf. The drawers of the dresser and nightstands were all pulled out, their contents strewn around the room. The closet doors were thrown open, and Spike didn’t bother looking in there on his way to the bathroom door.

Not giving his actions a second thought, he slammed his foot into the door, watching as pieces of wood broke away from the doorframe, revealing a startled young woman bandaging her hands at the sink.

Turning toward him with wide-eyes, Buffy felt her heart rate pick up when she saw the pure rage on his face. She waited for something to happen.

Anything.

No footsteps. No yelling. Just a void of nothing.

Reaching next to her to pick up the discarded sweater she had been wearing over her camisole, she moved to cover herself up with it, gasping when Spike was suddenly right next to her. Ripping the sweater out of her grasp, he threw it down on the floor, grabbing her shoulders in his hands.

“Son of a-”

Cut off as he shoved her against the wall with his full strength, causing her to wince when she was crushed against the unforgiving surface, Buffy glared at him.

“What did you think?” he asked in a low voice. “You’d trash the entire room and I wouldn’t blink an eye?”

“Didn’t really give a shit about what you’d think,” she replied angrily, narrowing her eyes on him. “I was trying to find a way out of this hell hole.”

“You’re not going to find it,” he growled, his hot breath against her ear. “The only way out of here is when your dear old dad decides to put up the cash for you.”

Finally looking away, Buffy clenched her jaw, not wanting to think about the fact that her father wouldn’t pay. What would happen when they actually realized it and she was merely an albatross to them?

“Come on,” Spike said, grabbing her wrist and roughly pulling her toward the door.

Biting her tongue to keep from asking where they were going, Buffy swallowed her gasp of surprise when he threw her down on one of the mattresses that was still laying on the floor, smirking as he admired her taut body, accentuated by the lace-covered top she was wearing.

Wishing that she was wearing anything but what she was wearing, Buffy avoided his eyes as he kept studying her.

Arching an eyebrow, Spike held out one hand, motioning for her not to move. “Stay,” he said in a calculated tone, smiling when he got the desired result.

“Stay?! Like I’m some kind of fucking dog? You think you can just-”

Her heartbeat skyrocketed when Spike pushed her to the mattress, easily covering her body with his own.

“Think I can just…what?” he whispered, holding her arms above her head and pinning her wrists in place with one hand while the other grazed along her ribcage. “Do this?” he whispered in her ear, mildly surprised when he noticed her eyes close. “Or maybe this?” he murmured, traveling even higher, smiling when he felt her tense and immediately try to buck him off of her.

“Mmm, just the way I like it, kitten,” he breathed.

“What? You like raping women?” she retorted, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

Immediately releasing her wrists and climbing to his feet, Spike’s jaw clenched as he looked at her. “Don’t…move.”

Breathing a sigh of relief that he didn’t push her any further, Buffy eagerly complied with his wishes, watching as he disappeared into the closet, reappearing a moment later with a long length of rope.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she whispered, scooting back as he approached her.

“Making sure you act like a good little girl from now on,” he replied with an arched eyebrow.

“You think I’ll just let you tie me up so you can do God only knows what? I don’t think so.”

“Step down off your high horse, princess,” he scoffed. “This is for the well-being of my home. If you think I’m going to let you trash it on a daily basis, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Punctuating his statement by grabbing her wrists, Spike easily held her in place while she tried to squirm away from his grasp. Looping the rope around and in between her wrists, he secured it in a tight knot behind her back, smiling at his handiwork.

“Now, if I can just find a gag, you might actually be the perfect woman.”

Drifting back and forth between anger and flattery, Buffy finally settled on anger.

“You son of a-”

“Thanks for proving my point, Goldilocks. Now, you be a good little girl and behave yourself and maybe I’ll bring you some dinner later. After all, wouldn’t want to have to get frisky and tie you to a chair or the bed frame, now do we?”

Giving him a glare in response, Buffy narrowed her eyes as she watched him take out his keys and let himself out of the room.

Closing her eyes as her emotions took over, she tried not to let the traitorous tears fall, angry at herself when a few slipped free. ‘You won’t let him beat you.’





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