Buffy hesitated for a moment, seemingly uncertain as to whether or not she should answer the phone. Spike could not help but relish the anxious look in her eyes as she stared at the flashing cell phone in her hand.
“*Don’t* answer it – and Dawn’ll be in here in seconds,” he reminded her, a taunting note to his calm, clear voice. “Doesn’t look like you’ve got much of a choice now, does it?”
A vindictive anger in her taut smile, the Slayer suddenly gripped his throat in her free hand, pressing him down against the mattress and cutting off his breath – silencing him completely. He instinctively struggled against her grip, desperate for breath, knowing that he may only have one chance to alert Dawn to the fact that something was wrong – but it was no use.
At some point during the last few hours, apparently, Buffy’s Slayer blood had regenerated itself enough to bring her back to her full strength, and between the brutal blows he had taken to the head and the chains that bound him to the bed and prevented him from gaining any leverage to pull away – it was hopeless.
There was no way that he was going to be able to break her grip.
She held him effortlessly by the throat, driving her knee into his side viciously. His back arched slightly in pain, and his mouth opened in a completely silent cry – and she smiled coldly.
Only once she was satisfied that he would not be able to make a sound to alert Dawn of the danger, Buffy flipped open the phone with her free hand, raising it to her ear. She took a moment to prepare herself before speaking into the phone in a slightly breathless voice, flawlessly tinged with just the right notes of annoyance and distraction.
“*Yes*?” she nearly gasped into the phone.
“Buffy? Are you okay?” Dawn’s voice was small, hesitant.
“Well – yeah,” she replied flatly with a heavy sigh, gradually regulating her breathing. “I *was* anyway – more than okay, actually. But then my cell phone rang…” she trailed off pointedly.
Spike’s heart sank as he realized that she sounded very convincing – as if she had really just been engaged in some hot and heavy action with her mate, and was quite irritated at being pulled away from it, but otherwise okay.
If he could not somehow get Dawn’s attention, Buffy would be able to pull it off; she would hang up and the girl would be none the wiser. He tried again to break the Slayer’s hold on his throat, but she only slammed him back down on the mattress, at the same moment jabbing her knee into his ribcage harder, eliciting another disappointingly silent cry from his lips.
“I’m sorry, Buffy – I just – are you sure about this whole waiting until morning thing? I mean – what if the Slayer takes over again?” Dawn protested, but a bit hesitantly.
Spike’s acute hearing could clearly pick up her every word, as well as her tone – and it was clear that the girl was more than a little self-conscious about interrupting what was supposedly an intimate, romantic night between her sister and himself. Obviously *something* had made her wonder if everything was all right, but she was not sure enough of her own instincts to just go with them without checking it out first.
Unfortunately.
*Come on, Bit…* he thought desperately, wishing that for just a moment, he might share the same mental bond with Dawn that he did with Buffy. *Hear something in her voice…something not right…please…don’t believe her…*
“Dawnie, I promise everything’s okay,” Buffy was easily assuring her little sister. “I’m much stronger than she is right now…she’s not even trying to surface, like I said – we’re all good. Better than good, actually – if I could just get off this *phone*…” Her pointed tone was light, teasing, but still expectant, as if she assumed that her sister would accept her words and let it drop at that point.
There was a moment’s silence, before Dawn spoke again, her voice quiet but firm. “Buffy, I want to talk to Spike.”
“Dawn – this is silly. I’m me, okay?” Buffy laughed easily, very naturally and convincingly.
Spike waited, his mind racing, desperately hoping that Dawn would not relent.
“I never said you weren’t,” the younger Summers sister countered immediately, her voice equally calm. “Let me talk to Spike.”
Buffy was silent for a moment – and Spike knew that she was debating over what she should do. Then, an odd smile came over her lips. “Fine,” she sighed wearily. “Just a second, Dawn…hold on…”
Spike watched, wondering what she had in mind as she set the phone down on the night stand for a moment, the pressure she was exerting on his throat never letting up as she leaned down into his face with a menacing smile. As she did, she reached into her jeans pocket to pull something out.
His eyes widened at the sight of the compact black pistol that she brought up to hold near his face. He looked between it and her cool smirk with a question in his eyes.
*Well. You bloody well didn’t pick *that* up at Wally World,* he commented dryly in her head.
She smiled, shaking her head slightly in acknowledgment of the truth of his statement. *No – just a stroke of luck. You know it’s not safe for a girl to go walking at night, dressed like this?* Her smile faded slightly, her expression hardening as she added, *Or rather – it wasn’t very safe for the guy who tried mugging me on my way back across the street. But hey – I got *this* cute little toy out of the bargain, didn’t I?*
Spike wondered briefly what she had done to the unfortunate mugger who had had the bad luck to attack a Slayer – wondered what his Buffy would think, feel, about it when she remembered what the Slayer had done in her body. He shook his head slightly, refocusing on the situation at hand.
With an effort he brought a derisive little smirk to his lips, glancing at the gun in her hand and back into her eyes, laughter in his own.
*That supposed to scare me, love? I think you forgot someth--*
His words broke off when she suddenly sat up slightly, moving the gun and aiming it smoothly behind her – directly at the front door of the motel room. She smiled down at him with cruel triumph, her eyebrows raised in a challenge.
*Go ahead,* she said softly in his head, mockery in her voice. *Say something to bring Dawnie running…I’d *love* to see her come through that door!*
Spike felt his stomach drop at the words, the realization of the true threat of the weapon in her hand.
*No – no, Buffy…don’t do that…*
She leaned down close to him again, her lips close to his ear, as she whispered softly, just a breath, but clearly audible to his vampire senses, “If you say anything to make her come here – it’ll be just like *you* killed her, Spike. She’ll die – and it will be your fault.”
He shook his head slightly, his eyes closed against the painful images her words brought to mind, of the terrible thing that could be in the next few minutes – if he was not very *very* careful. He knew that she was right; if Dawn got even the first inkling that he was in danger, that Buffy was hurting him – she would come running, heedless of her own safety.
And the Slayer would kill her.
*You gonna tell her what’s going on?*
*No,* he assured her, shaking his head as she slowly eased her grip on his throat.
*Gonna try anything stupid, Baby?*
*No…no, Buffy, please…please don’t hurt her…*
*That’s up to you, Sweetie,* Buffy reminded him with a deceptively gentle caress down his cheek, as she removed her hand from his throat, before reaching for the phone on the bedside table.
The whole mental exchange had taken place in a matter of seconds – no where near enough time for Dawn to think that something was wrong.
*Fortunately,* he thought, with no small irony, as Buffy pressed the phone to his ear, her other hand resting on his forehead, holding his head back so that every word, every nuance of his voice and expression would be completely open to her observance.
He fought with everything in him the impulse to pull away from her touch, steadying himself to do what he had to do. He looked up at the Slayer’s face; she was looking down at him with a calm, if false, smile, her eyebrows raised expectantly.
*Don’t let us down, Baby,* she warned him in a light, teasing tone that was all the more chilling for its inappropriateness – and for the fact that he knew that by “us” she meant herself – and Dawn.
“Hey, Bit,” he spoke into the phone in a slightly raspy voice that he hoped she would interpret as hoarse and tired due to a session of wearing himself out with her sister, rather than the choke hold Buffy had just kept him in for the past few minutes, or the perilous situation he was in.
“Spike?” Dawn’s voice sounded anxious and uncertain. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, Bit,” he said in a quiet, reassuring voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Gee, I don’t know,” Dawn’s voice became sarcastic and a bit annoyed, and he could picture her caustic shrug and the roll of her eyes as she went on, “Maybe because my sister’s suffering from a case of supernatural split personality disorder at the moment and her other personality wants to kill you?”
“No, she’s okay, pet,” he assured her calmly. “She’s in control – don’t worry…”
“Why aren’t you guys using the chains?” Dawn demanded in an accusing tone. “Buffy said you were gonna use the chains!”
“We will, pet, when we – um – get ready to go to sleep,” he told her, forcing a slightly embarrassed little chuckle. “For the moment, they’re not really necessary. Please, Bit, just – just don’t worry, yeah? Everything’s fine.”
Dawn was silent for a long moment. “Spike – are you sure? Cause I could come over there…”
“No, Bit,” he cut her off, wincing when his voice came out a bit sharper than he had intended it to, and the Slayer’s expression hardened slightly, her hand on his head pressing his head back in a possessive, threatening gesture. “No – you don’t need to do that, everything’s fine, I promise. I could – chain her up now if you’d rather,” he suggested, putting a playful note into his voice that he hoped was convincing.
“Spike – ew!” Dawn exclaimed, obviously surprised by his suggestive words. “Okay, TMI much? All right, I believe you – just – just please *do* use those chains, Spike…I just – I don’t know why I’m so worried, I just – don’t want you to get hurt…”
“I know, pet – and I appreciate it, I really do,” he said, the warmth and affection in his voice completely genuine. “You just – don’t need to worry so much. The mating claim is in place – she can’t control me anymore – everything is going to be fine, I promise…”
“Okay,” Dawn conceded with a sigh. “Okay, Spike…just…call me if you need me, okay?”
“I will,” he assured her. “Good night – all right?”
“Good night.” Her tone was still hesitant, uncertain, just before the faint click of her cell phone being hung up.
Spike wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.
He knew Dawn well enough to know that he had not completely convinced her. She was trying to accept what he had said, but she still had her doubts. She would not be coming to the room – not yet, anyway.
His mind raced with the possible scenarios that could take place at this point. If he knew Dawn at all, she would eventually either call again, or come to the room, in spite of his and Buffy’s reassurances. She cared too much to simply let it go at that – which could turn out to be either his salvation – or both of their doom.
The Slayer wanted to kill Dawn – and yet, she did not want her to come to the room – not yet, anyway. She knew she could not kill her as easily as it would seem, because every time they came into physical contact, Dawn was able to easily overcome her. She would want to be very well prepared before she faced Dawn again.
Which meant that it all came down to one thing – the element of surprise.
Spike suddenly made it his goal to get the gun out of Buffy’s hand, and her so thoroughly distracted that she would not be able to react quickly, whenever Dawn *did* let her quite accurate misgivings get the better of her and returned to their motel room to check on them.
“Good job, Baby.” Buffy’s voice sounded mildly surprised, as if she had expected him to fail her, as she closed the phone and set it down on the night table, turning around to look at him with a chilling, speculative smile. “Didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off.”
“Yeah, well – I aim to please, pet,” he muttered sarcastically, jerking instinctively away from her hand as she ran it slowly down his face.
Her mood shifted in an instant at his reaction of disgust to her touch, and he could feel the dark, ugly rage rising up in her, even before the breathtaking slap she delivered across his face. When the stars began to fade from his vision, she was leaning down over him, her body pressed nearer to him as her hand fisted in his hair and yanked his head back, as she leaned in to whisper near his ear.
“Really? Doesn’t seem that way, Spike… ‘cause you *haven’t* pleased me – not yet…” she informed him with a menacingly suggestive note in her voice, her free hand trailing down his side, coming to rest on his hip, edging slowly inward.
He tensed under her invasive touch, his breath quickening as he forced himself not to pull away, no matter how much the idea of this *thing* in Buffy’s body touching him, utterly repulsed and horrified him.
“You really wanna please me, Baby?” she murmured seductively in his ear, her lips drifting down to leave a line of warm, soft kisses up from his throat to his jaw. “Do you?”
“What’s this all about anyway?” he asked breathlessly, shifting uncomfortably under her slight weight, edging away from her slowly exploring hand, trying to distract her – from Dawn and her possible entrance at any time, but also from her current pursuits. “Woulda thought you’d have just left me here like this and gone after Dawn while she wasn’t expectin’ it…woulda made a bit more sense, don’t you think?”
His own words horrified him, but he knew that she wouldn’t actually do it – or she would have already. Besides – he knew that this would work.
Evil masterminds could never resist the chance to gloat about their plans.
“You might think so, huh?” she smirked, rising up off of him. Apparently, his ruse had worked, for the moment. “The thing is – I can’t kill Dawn.” She paused, giving a little half-shrug. “I *do* need her dead. But I can’t kill her. Too risky. Can’t risk touching her, because there’s always the chance that she’ll beat me before I can get it finished.”
She was silent for a moment, and he gave her a questioning look, wondering where she was going with this. When she spoke again, her soft, confident words sent a chill of fear down his spine.
“That’s why you’re going to do it for me.”
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