Eventually, he had stopped the pacing. His vision had gone red, his mind snapped, sending him into full rampage mode. After his temper had settled slightly, Spike paused and glanced around his bedroom, taking in the destruction. His usually obsessively neat sanctuary was now in shambles; smashed lamps, ripped posters, several pieces of furniture upended.. Now, Spike crouched in the corner, panting heavily as he desperately tried to catch his breath.
“Nothing but a bleeding ponce is what you are.” He muttered under his breath, “Nothing but a failure.”
As hard as he tried to stop himself, the unwanted tears continued to spill over his thick lashes and trail down his flushed cheeks. After a few minutes, he angrily swiped his face with the back of his hand and vowed to get even with Buffy as soon as the sun set.
Buffy felt sick. Horrible pangs of guilt ached through out every inch of her body. After last night’s meal, she had instantly locked herself in her bedroom and lay under the silk sheets; curled up on her side in the fetal position. For the first time since being turned, she actually felt remorse for killing a person.
“A fucking happy meal with legs!” She exclaimed, miserably, as she cried into her pillow. “Why should I even care?”
Deep in her lifeless heart, she knew the real reason behind her sorrow was that Spike would be upset with her if he found out. If he knew that it was she that had killed the oversexed juvenile, then he would be furious with her. While Buffy prayed for the Slayer to feel some type of emotion for her, anger was not what she desired. Rolling over, Buffy buried her head under the pillow; sobs wracking her tiny frame.
As night approached, Spike hauled himself up from the floor and quickly attempted to straighten his room before his father stumbled upon the disaster. Eventually, he had to give up his efforts, realizing that it would take a lot longer than a half hour to repair the damage.
After a quick shower, he dressed in his usual garb of Doc Marten’s, black jeans and shirt. Using a generous amount of hair gel, he slicked his platinum blonde locks back, desperately trying to tame his unruly curls.
Opening his weapons chest, Spike prepared for his mission by pocketing two stakes and a flask of holy water. Finally, he grabbed his leather duster and headed to his first stop, the Bronze.
Buffy was rudely awakened by the sound of the heavy wooden door of her bedroom slamming against the wall. Groaning loudly, trying to express that she was not pleased with being disturbed, she rolled over and glared at the intruder.
Willow was leaning against the doorframe, dressed to kill in black leather pants and a red corset. Licking her lips hungrily, the slender red head crossed the room to Buffy’s bed; crawling up towards her in full on predator mode. Willow straddled Buffy, one leather covered leg on each side of Buffy’s nude ones.
“Rise and shine,” Willow muttered while nuzzling Buffy’s neck, “Time to go out and play.”
Buffy tried to protest, desperately voicing her desire to stay at home in bed for the evening. However, Willow wouldn’t take no for an answer; then again, she wasn’t use to having her childe be disagreeable.
“I fed really early this morning,” Buffy explained; turning her head slightly to the side; praying that the redhead’s furious amber eyes would not detect the grief that filled her own luminous green eyes. “Honestly, I would rather stay in tonight.”
Willow cocked her eyebrow at Buffy, instantly detecting the fear and dishonesty in her lover’s voice. Grabbing Buffy’s wrists, she pinned them down next to her head; trapping a few blonde locks underneath. “Get up and get ready. Don’t make me come back up here.” She warned, menacingly. “Daddy wants to go find a play-pretty and we always do what Daddy says.”
Buffy’s lip quivered, another fresh wave of tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Unable to speak without her voice wavering, she nodded her head in compliance.
Willow smiled, but her eyes remained cold. “Good girl.” She praised, as she slid from the bed, deliberately pulling the sheets along with her. “Wear something sexy for me, k?” The fiery redhead gave one last look at Buffy, eyeballing her naked form seductively, before turning to leave the room. “You know what I like.”
Defeated, Buffy scampered from the bed and headed towards the bathroom. After a scalding hot shower, she applied her makeup and fixed her hair, completely at ease with out the use of a mirror; she had had many years of experience in grooming without seeing her reflection. With one final application of vanilla lip gloss, she crossed the bedroom and entered the closet in attempts to find something sultry to wear; always eager to please her sire.
Searching for the right outfit took longer than expected. Clothes were flung from racks, shoes thrown to the floor and Buffy still had no clue as what to wear. The only thing she was sure of was that she did not want to go out tonight. Sighing loudly, Buffy grabbed a dress and boots off the floor and returned back to the bedroom to finish getting ready.
Buffy slipped the slinky red dress over her head, forgoing any underwear due to the thinness of the material. She was busy working on her black thigh high boots, making sure that the laces were done properly, when Willow entered the room and announced it was time to leave.
As the sun retreated behind the trees, a reluctant Buffy followed her sire from the mansion; heading in the direction of their favorite hunting spot, the Bronze.
TBC...
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