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Chapter 10: Wicked

Instead of going out again the following day they both decided to stay inside their hotel and recuperate. After the events of the night before, New York had lost a lot of its appeal.

They’d spent most of the day apart. Spike had categorically refused to go to an emergency room or to report the incident to the police, and Buffy had finally given up arguing with him.

Consequentially, Spike had spent most of the day reading and going over some business matters, while Buffy had kept herself glued to the TV. They only time they spent together was when they were eating the meals they’d ordered from room service, or when they each found out that the other was a fan of Passions.

As day slipped into evening, Spike approached Buffy. He didn’t know how she would react, but he wanted to give her the option to go out or not. But he was done with surprises. He’d let Buffy know what his plans were, just where he’d be taking her, and whether she felt up to it or not would be her decision. Either way, they were headed home tomorrow.

Privately he was relieved when Buffy agreed to go out. He had known that Buffy would enjoy the musical “Wicked” and was happy that she felt recovered enough to go out. He would have to thank Jonathan when they got home; he had been the one to suggest it, and how he had gotten tickets at the last minute, Spike didn’t know.

By intermission Buffy was back to her usual self, babbling a mile a minute about the characters in the musical. It had taken Spike a few tries to catch on, but slowly he was learning what kinds of things would make his girl happy. Forgetting the incident last night, this little trip was turning into a huge success.

No sooner had he finished that thought, than Spike felt a shiver run up his spine. Later he would wonder what had alerted him. Maybe he was still on hyper aware from the fight the night before. Perhaps he had caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, or heard a voice he had hoped to never hear again. Or perhaps it was simply a premonition or a warning lest he ever become too comfortable or too happy. Either way, he was dreadfully afraid that whatever he did it wouldn’t be enough to do him any good.

Along with half the theatre, he and Buffy were headed towards the lobby for refreshments at intermission. Buffy was chatting animatedly at his side as they hurried to beat the crowds to the refreshments. Feeling cornered already, Spike viewed the long lines with dread. Desperately, he tried to persuade Buffy that they would be better off just heading back to their seats. He felt like a coward as he finally blurted out an excuse to slip off to the men’s and meet Buffy back in the theatre.

It was as he turned to leave her that he felt a thick hand over his shoulder, pinning him in place. With a sinking feeling Spike knew before he turned just whose meaty hand it was, and whose face he would see smirking down at him. Angelus.

“William!” the hated voice boomed with false good cheer. “What a pleasant surprise! You must wait and pay your respects to Dru! She’s been so concerned about you, poor thing!” Angelus’s firm grip on his shoulder offered the smaller man no choice. There was no way he’d be able to get away from Angelus, at least not without making a huge scene in the lobby.

“She knew that you would take it hard when she left,” Angelus continued. “Every other month or so she gets it in her head to call and see how you’re doing, for old times sake. But of course I have to dissuade her. I told her it would only make the breakup harder on you if she refused to leave you alone. Somehow she’s got it in her head that we’ll all be together again someday. Of course that’s impossible now that Darla’s gone – God rest her soul.”

Spike wished that he could prove that the Poofter had murdered Darla himself, but all he had were his suspicions. Unable to get away Spike stood as if rooted to the spot, helpless to do anything else but brazen it out.

“That’s a funny one, Angelus, you speaking about God. It’s a wonder He doesn’t burn you where you stand.” The brash fighter from the night before was suddenly gone; all he had left to fight with were pitifully inadequate words.

“It’s good to see you too, Will,” Angelus chuckled. “I can see you’re looking well.”
Spike tried not to flinch as the larger man reached out with his other hand and touched the fresh cut over Spike’s eyebrow.

Pulling back his hand, for the first time Angelus noticed Buffy hovering nearby. His eyes widened as he took in the matching bruises on her neck and shoulder.

“This the new rough and tumble then?” he laughed. “Pity you didn’t have this much spunk when you were still married to my Drusilla. She might not have left you then. But then you never know. Women are such fickle creatures, aren’t they?”

Staring stonily ahead, Spike refused to answer. If Spike denied him his fun, maybe the lunkhead would take the hint and bugger off to go bother some one else.

Angelus leered at Buffy, openly appraising her figure and her youth. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to the new girl?”

“No.” Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming, Spike tried again to slip from his grasp.

“That’s not very polite, Will,” he glanced at Buffy again and leaned in as if to speak to Spike personally, but his stage whisper was pitched loud enough that Buffy could hear it clearly, as could several people around them, judging by the way they turned and stared.

“Tell me, just between us two. Is she some trollop you’ve picked up for a one-night stand, or is she one of your hired help?”

Angelus took one look at the enraged expression on Spike’s face, clapping him on the shoulder and bursting into laughter again as if he had just made the funniest joke in the world.

“God, I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed you, boy!” Spike still refused to answer. “Didn’t you think I’d know what you’ve been up to? Only it doesn’t seem like you’ve been up to much at all of late. Little performance anxiety perhaps? Not quite sure you can measure up anymore?” Casting Buffy another brief glance, he continued, “Maybe she’d be willing to give me a go if you’ve had enough? I could probably convince Dru to give you a pity fuck. She’s come over all nostalgic lately.”

Spike wasn’t going to stand for any more. Damn it to hell that it was public place, Angelus was asking for pounding. Instead of continuing to try to escape the larger man’s iron grasp, Spike let his fist fly straight into the older man’s stomach.

If Angelus even felt the blow he didn’t let on. Without the least bit of exertion, Angelus took Spike’s fist and turned it around his back so that he held the smaller man in a wrestlers hold. With just the slightest bit of extra pressure, he could break Spike’s arm. Oblivious again, the crowd of people around them continued their conversations about the play while they finished their drinks.

“That’s not very smart, Will,” Angelus whispered menacingly. “I could have you arrested for assault. More to the point, I could make it even more unpleasant for your girlfriend here. Something about her just smells delicious. I don’t think I’ll be able to rest until I’ve had a taste of her. Tell me, Willy boy, she likes it rough, does she?”

Buffy had gone white as a sheet and had started trembling, the fear she hadn’t felt the night before compounding the terror she felt now. Her eyes were as big as saucers as she vainly looked around the lobby for someone to help them. No one was paying them the least bit of attention as the lights began to flash, signaling it was time for people to start making their way back to their seats.

For the first time Angelus turned to address Buffy directly. “So tell me little girl, are you afraid of me? Of what I could do to you?”

Controlling her tremors, Buffy vowed to be strong. “No.” If she had the nerve she’d give the bastard a blow he wouldn’t soon forget. And it wouldn’t be his knee she’d be targeting this time, either. Spike didn’t seem to want to fight, and she wasn’t going to start anything until she knew why. “No, I’m not afraid of you, Angel. You see, you’ve already done everything you could to me.”

Stunned, Angelus released his hold on Spike and looked at Buffy full in the face for the first time. The hand that had been holding Spike at bay now gripped her sore shoulder painfully as he turned her face to the light.

“I don’t believe it! Little Buffy Summers from Sunnydale. All grown up!” If his grin was any wider his face would crack. “And now you’re with Spike! Oh, this is too hilarious.”

Letting go of Buffy he turned back to man silently fuming beside him, “I hope you had more success with her than I did. Maybe the intervening years have taught her a few things about how to please a man in bed. I knew you liked my leavings, Will, but how the two of you ever managed to find each other … God, I couldn’t have planned it better myself!”

The lobby was almost empty now, Angelus’s laughter echoing in the now vacant space. A lone figure was making her way over to the trio.

“My Spike! I knew you’d come. We’ve been waiting ever so long.” The dark-haired woman pressed herself against Spike’s back and ran her hands through his hair like she owned him. Peering over Spike’s shoulder at Angelus she spoke quite clearly, as if making a point, “I knew you’d come. Angel didn’t believe, but I knew.”

Her eyes still on Angelus, Drusilla lowered her head just a bit to whisper in the smaller man’s ear. “Come back with us. There’s enough tea for all. Even bring the new dolly if you’ve a mind to. She can play Darla’s hand. Card games are ever so much more interesting with four players.”

Spike gritted his teeth as he struggled for a response. “No, Dru. Not coming back with you.” Again he’d been trying to disentangle himself from the brunette’s embrace without using too much force, but the grip she held him in was deceptively strong. Perhaps words would accomplish what he was loath to achieve by force.

“Not ever going back to you Dru, not after what you’ve done. And certainly not going anywhere with this sod you’ve shacked yourself up with again.”

Finally seeming to come to himself, in a fluid gesture Spike shook himself free, and reaching for Buffy’s hand began leading her out of the theatre. “Come on, Luv, let’s get out of here. Its past time we were on our way back home, where we don’t have to mix with this trash.”

The sound of Angelus’s laughter rang in his ears, seeming to followed them out to the street.





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