She became aware of the feeling in her head, the hurting in her head, and then became slowly aware that she was moving. In a car moving, and the pillow under her head was not a pillow, but a thigh that was covered by blue jeans.
“Spike?” she murmured and tried to turn her head to look up at him. Her mind was too foggy to process anything at the moment and it was about to get foggier.
Officer Riley Finn placed the white handkerchief to Buffy Summer’s face and watched her eyes roll up in her head. He tried to squelch the anger he felt at hearing her say that bastard’s name. He brainwashed her that had to be it. He did something to make her feel something for him. Why else would someone as pure and innocent go for someone like Spike?
It was disgusting to him to even think of. She was tainted by his touch, but not completely lost. Given enough time, she’d realize that she was meant for him instead. That she was to be his mistress and he her Master. But first, they needed to get to safety and then in the morning they’d begin their new life. Together. Just the way it was intended for them.
“Screw it, I’m going with them,” Spike told Rayne, coming out of the bathroom. “I need to see the body and the necklace.”
“I’m coming with you,” Angel said firmly.
“Fine. Let’s roll.”
“We’ll meet you down there after this is cleared up, son,” Rayne called after him as Spike headed to the basement door.
Spike stopped abruptly, nearly causing Angel to knock into him. He turned slowly to Rayne, his expression devoid of emotion aside from a slight narrowing of his eyes. “I’m not your son, Rayne.”
The older man shook his head, his black hair glinting in the light of the room. “It slipped out, I’m sorry.”
Spike opened his mouth and then shut it. He shook his head, frustrated, and then opened it again. “I’ll see you there.”
Rayne’s dark eyes softened and he almost smiled, though he didn’t, almost as if he knew that would be too much. He nodded without a word passing through his lips.
Spike spun and started off.
“Spike?” Angel asked as they bounded down heavily on the basement stairs. Buffy’s blood having dried already, leaving maroon blotches, added to Spike’s list of why else he was going to strangle Finn when he got his hands on him. “Do you think he’ll hurt her?”
Spike said nothing, his own thoughts marred with visions of what Finn was planning for his Buffy. “I don’t know, Angel. I don’t know,” he said sadly, wishing he had someone to assure him that Finn wouldn’t hurt her the same way Angel was looking for reassurance. Trouble was, Spike had seen and been around enough to know that these were the sorts of things that could really go either way. Could anyone ever really get into the head of someone as obviously detached from reality as Finn?
“I mean, he’s been obsessed with her for sometime now,” Angel mused. “That much was obvious, right?”
“Right,” Spike agreed, climbing in his car, trying to keep his emotions in check. He could smell her in the car, her scent permeating in the confined space, tickling his nose and bringing tears to his eyes.
“So, why would he hurt her, right?” Angel said rhetorically, desperately, as he slid in beside Spike.
Spike felt for him. He was a brother, concerned for his sister and was trying his best to reason Buffy being all right and not hurt, despite the fact that Finn most obviously had something to do with the murder of Parker and Gwen, of almost Spike, and the kidnapping of his sister. He’d also possibly hired someone to do his dirty work for him – at least one could speculate it that way. Oh, yes. And the possible of murder of a hooker could be added to the list. I hope it’s not Faith, Spike thought despondently.
“He is probably like all those other obsessed freaks out there that only wish to keep her from those around her that could spoil her against him. Like you. Like me. Right? If he truly believes he’s in love with her, then he wouldn’t want to hurt her. He’d just want to take her away and it’d be easy enough to find them, right?”
Spike said nothing, wishing he could lie to the man and tell him that he was absolutely right, but the plain fact remained was that he just didn’t know. Finn had snowed them all. He’d portrayed himself one way when he was really the other way. It was hard to say anything for certain with someone like that. And God, he wished he could say for certain that Buffy was in no immediate danger, that she was all right, but just horribly scared.
Gunn’s thoughts on Finn having come to light that night came to Spike’s mind, haunting him: “Dude, I find him creepy, period. I’m telling you, that man has a dark side in there underneath that wholesome façade. And when he cracks, he’s really gonna crack.”
Finn had been cracking all along. So, what would happen now?
“Can you answer me?” Angel exclaimed frantically.
Spike threw him a sideways glance, grasping the steering wheel so tightly in his hands he wondered if he could pull the wheel from its spot out of sheer anger and worry. “It’ll be all right, Angel.”
“But you really don’t think so,” Angel murmured dejectedly.
“I just don’t know, that’s the problem. I just don’t know. We have to find some way to get one step ahead of him. That’s the whole key to this. Finding something that will keep us one step ahead.”
“Can you just…just lie to me? Tell me we’ll get to her before he can hurt her, please.
Spike’s eyes burned with impending tears. “I promise,” he said, trying his best to keep it together for Angel. And for Buffy. She needed his strength now more than ever, and she had said that she drew strength from him. He hoped that wherever she was and whatever she was going through, she could feel it.
Buffy’s eyes opened slowly, she felt disoriented and detached from her body, from everything. She was struggling through what felt like being underwater, swimming desperately to the surface of her muddiness.
“Mmmm…” she groaned, and felt a cool hand caress her face lovingly.
Her eyes snapped open then; a wave of pure fear rolling through her like a storm as memories came clicking into place like puzzle pieces.
Riley. He was standing above her. . . Where? She was in a room that appeared to be some kind of bedroom, she couldn’t discern and she was, oh God, she was tied to the bed. Her wrists were up against a headboard, and her feet together. The room was dingy and dirty. The wallpaper was peeling from the walls; the TV across the room appeared to have an inch of dust on it and a falling apart bureau, with broken handles and missing drawers, the edges of it scuffed with shards of wood jutting out sat next to it. On it were two black suitcases. She stared at them, focusing in on them.
Riley tapped her to make her look at him. She did so, reluctantly, frightfully.
“We’re going away, my darling. Taking a trip. We’re gonna get away from all this mess that’s here and start fresh.”
He was smiling at her so sweetly and innocently, Buffy felt her stomach turn. She shook her head, unable to find her voice to speak.
“Yes, darling, we are. You’ll see, it’ll really be the best thing for us. Especially for you. You need to get away from all the horridness that is Sunnydale. All of its memories and bad people that betrayed you and tried to sully you.”
“Sully me?”
“You know…Parker that lying, cheating bastard. He really was no good for you, carrying on as he did behind your back. He betrayed you,” Riley shook his head in disgust and sat down next to her on the thin brown comforter. “And then Gwen…that whore,” Riley spat. “She pretended to be your best friend and all the while she was messing around with that scum.” Riley wrinkled his nose in disgust. “And then, of course, Spike. I know he tricked you into being with him, Buffy. It’s okay. I understand. He brainwashed you and he used you. It’s okay. I forgive you.”
“I don’t…need…your…forgiveness,” Buffy struggled through her words, tears clogging her throat. “I love him.”
Riley’s expression darkened considerably. “No. You. Don’t. You think you do because he made you think that way, but really, you don’t. He’s filth, Buffy. You’re pureness. Innocence. An angel.”
Buffy turned her head. “Don’t call me that.” Spike calls me that.
Putting his hand on the side of her face, Riley made her look at him. “You are,” he told her imploringly. “And I got rid of all those people that hurt you.”
Buffy started to cry then, let the balled up emotion out in a gush. “You did it. You killed them all.”
“No, silly. I didn’t do it. Of course I didn’t actually do it. I would never think to my hands dirty that way. I hired someone to do it. Though…he messed up. He might be dead now, having not gone past Spike and Gunn. That’s okay though. I can let it go….For now anyway. He might still live, but I will find a way to live with that for the time-being.”
“Spike is…alive?”
“Maybe, don’t know. Probably. That …” Riley shook his head. “He makes me sick. And he had his hands all over you…”
“Riley, please…let me go.”
“No, not going to ever let you go now. You belong to me, don’t you see? You are mine. Can’t you see how I’ve protected you so well? Those robbers that tried to get to you, tried to steal from you--”
“Oh God,” Buffy moaned.
“I took care of them for you," he said proudly.
“Riley--”
“Shush now dear. It’s all right. We have a long road ahead of us, you know.”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“We have to get out of here. There is one problem though.”
“Wh-what?”
“I lost your ticket. I need to get you another ticket.”
“T-to where?”
“Maine. We’re going to Maine. Live on the ocean, cleanse ourselves in the sea of all our past sins and start fresh. First though, I have to get you a ticket. No worries. We’ll get you one tomorrow at the airport.”
“Riley, please, don’t take me from my family.”
“I’m your family now, sweet. And when they accept me, you can see them again, I promise.”
Buffy sobbed. She sobbed for where she was, who she was with, Spike, Angel and all those that had to die because of her.
It was Faith. Spike felt the bile rise up within him for the thousandth time that night. Her body, cut up and mutilated in the bottom of a dumpster, a blond wig on her the same shade as Buffy’s and the necklace Finn had given Buffy.
It was then that Angel tossed his cookies.
Using gloves provided by the coroner, Spike extracted the necklace and shoved it into a plastic bag held by another officer and the wig was shoved into another one, crusted with blood.
“This body has been here for a while,” the coroner told Spike.
“How long you think?”
“Hard to tell exactly, but if I had to wager a guess, I’d say a few days at least.”
“I want to know how long when you find out,” Spike told him and watched the body be lifted from the dumpster and onto a stretcher.
More life wasted.
Looking around the dumpster, Spike perused carefully, looking for anything, any clue. There wasn’t much in the dumpster to begin with, it being shoved far back in an alley not many lived near or ventured near.
An envelope in the corner under some papers caught his eye and he picked it up. Delta Airlines it read. Opening it up curiously, Spike nearly sobbed with relief. Buffy’s name was on it. Her ticket. It was her ticket to Maine. And just inside, tucked in, a small piece of paper. A receipt with Finn's signature. Oh God in heaven, Finn was taking her away and here was her ticket and his proof of purchase.
A ticket he’d have to replace, surely.
“Spike?” Rayne had arrived.
Jumping out of the dumpster, Spike handed over the airline ticket. “Need any more proof that he’s got her now?”