The next morning Buffy and Spike were awakened by the witch singing another song. It took them both a moment to get their bearings, and then swallow the disappointment that all of it hadn't been some crazy nightmare. They were still here.
Wicked Willow danced around the room as she sang:
"Oh, ev'ry sleeper waken!
The sun is in the sky
Come, rise, come, rise,
And hear the cuckoo cry
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
Wake up! Be spry!"
She ended her song by giving Buffy a sharp kick to the shin.
"OWW!" Buffy shouted and jumped. She scooted into the corner, massaging her smarting shin and looking at Wicked Willow with undisguised contempt. "I'm awake, dammit! You didn't have to kick me!"
"Get up, you lazy girl, it's time for breakfast! It seems that you were both well-behaved while I slept, good thing for you!"
Spike groaned and sat up. He would've feigned sleep, but all that would've gotten him was a kick or worse.
"You'll come with me to gather eggs, fetch water, and firewood," the witch told Buffy.
"The... chain will stretch all the way outside?" Buffy asked.
"No, I'll have to take the shackle off for that."
Buffy was still foggy from sleep, but the thought of possibly being let off the chain was enough to perk her up. If she was free and let outside, there would be a good chance for escape.
"Now, don't get the notion that you can just run off," the witch said, eerily seeming to know exactly what Buffy had been thinking. "There's a spell that will keep you from leaving my property -- the same pain that you feel with the wand and when you try putting your filthy little hands on me."
Buffy thought, 'Shit, she's got one of those invisible fence things too... Figures.'
The shackle dropped away from Buffy's ankle at the touch of the wand.
Buffy rubbed her chafed ankle. "If you have a spell to keep us from running away... why chain us up?"
"Oh, there are many reasons. Because sometimes the old ways are best, as well as more fun! It pleases me to see chains on my darlings. It also keeps you from getting underfoot while reminding you that you're mine. Stand up, girl."
Buffy stood up, wanting to cave the witch's head in so bad. The thought of getting that horrible pain again was the only thing staying her hand.
The witch told Buffy that she would be doing chores outside during the day as well as in the house. There were some animals to be fed and watered, crops to be tended to, wood to be chopped, etc. Buffy didn't say so, but the wood chopping sounded good -- she'd have to be given an axe to perform that chore. Giving an angry Slayer an axe was a big mistake that their captor would find out the hard way... if Buffy could just manage to be faster, stronger, and accurate.
"Follow me, and don't try anything stupid, you know what will happen to you if you do."
Buffy reluctantly followed the witch out the door, giving Spike a nervous glance.
Spike didn't like this -- Buffy being shuffled along to another location. The witch could be taking her somewhere to slaughter her like a hog. At least they had a chance of preventing the other from getting killed when they were in the same room.
Spike spent the time alone fruitlessly pulling at the chain and thinking of ways he might be able to get the wand away from the witch, or use one of the potential weapons on her. The axe hanging on the wall looked especially good to him. Oh, how he'd make that bitch pay if he could get just one swing in...
Evil Willow and Buffy came back 20 minutes later with the witch carrying a basket of eggs, and Buffy lugging a pail of water and a bunch of firewood under her other arm. The firewood had already been chopped, so she hadn't had a chance to try using the axe as a weapon yet. But the pile of wood was dwindling, so maybe tomorrow... Buffy hadn't tried escaping just yet, there hadn't been a good opportunity. She didn't know where she'd go or what she'd do if she did manage to break free and make a run for it. Though the pain from the spell would probably make her drop. And there was the problem of Spike still being chained up in the house. She'd have to think about it before she tried anything.
Breakfast was cooked for Wicked Willow and Spike. Buffy got a piece of stale bread and a cup of water, while they had ham and cheese omelets with pastries for dessert.
After the meal, Buffy was told to do the dishes. She just barely was able to keep from going off. The witch replenished the table o' candy goodness, creating more food with a touch of the wand. Spike was given a fresh heap of cakes and candies to devour throughout the course of the day. And one thing that they were confused about, the witch ordered them to take off their shoes and socks. They asked why, but she just gave them the 'because I told you to' explanation. They did as she asked, choosing to pick their battles.
Then Wicked Willow took Buffy back outside with her, leaving Spike alone again.
He tried focusing on constructive things, but he worried. Worried about Buffy possibly being harmed, but also worried about Buffy making a run for it.
'She wouldn't leave me here... would she?' Spike asked himself, then shook his head. 'Nah, she wouldn't do that. She's all heroic, and heroes don't abandon their comrades...' He nodded, trying to convince himself that that was true. He tried ignoring the voice in his head that told him that Buffy would leave him, he meant nothing to her. He was the kind of creature she killed on a daily basis, and he'd personally caused her and her friends so much trouble and grief. Why would she bat an eyelash at leaving him here? "No, she wouldn't -- she won't."
An hour and a half later, Buffy and the witch returned. Spike silently chided that negative inner voice of his, he'd been worried for nothing, Buffy didn't leave him here to die. He looked her over for any signs of injury. She looked tired, her face, arms and feet were streaked with soot and dirt. But she looked otherwise fine.
Wicked Willow pushed Buffy toward the corner. Buffy stumbled, but didn't fall. She sank down to sit on her butt, glowering at the witch.
"Where'd you two go off to?" Spike asked.
"I'm sure that Buffy will tell you all about it while I'm gone." The witch passed a hand over her face, suddenly looking like Sunnydale Willow again. She smiled and giggled. "I need to go into the village for a few necessities."
They contained their happiness at the thought of her leaving for any amount of time.
Evil Willow straightened her clothes "Now, Buffy, remember what I told you: no eating. You are not to eat or taste or drink anything unless I give it to you. Do you understand me, girl?"
"Yes," Buffy said, her eye twitched with suppressed rage.
"Spike, if you give her any food, you will be severely punished too. She only eats what I give her -- do you understand?”
“Yeah, I do. I understood it the first few dozen times you told me, too.” He clenched his fists, keeping his temper in check.
Wicked Willow hesitated a moment. "If I weren't in a hurry, I'd discipline you for that smart mouth. Buffy, you are to sweep and scrub the floor while I'm gone."
"I just did it last night!" Buffy protested.
"And it's filthy again!"
Buffy's brows formed a V of confusion. There was dirt all over the floor again, it shouldn't be that dirty yet. That was a nice touch, the floor must get magically dirty again to give her more work to do. "What the... I just cleaned it! How..." She shook her head. "Can't you just use your wand to make it instantly, magically clean?"
"You're questioning me?" Evil Willow asked with narrowed eyes.
"I think it's a valid question. You can do all that other stuff with the wand, so why --"
"I have my reasons, girl, and I don't have to explain them to you." The witch dropped a scrub brush into a bucket of water. "There's enough water in the pail for you to wash the floor. You'd better do a good job of it too! Now, be good while I'm gone or it'll be the strap for you!" she said cheerfully as she went out the door.
"What'd she have you do?" Spike asked once they were alone.
"There's another place around back that she had me clean," Buffy replied, shivering a little.
"Does she have more people trussed up out there?"
"No... but it's obvious that people were in there before. And... there's a huge oven, like the one in the story."
Spike's mind went to the worst happening: the witch shoving him and Buffy in the oven. But he tried looking at it from a more helpful angle. "Good."
"Good? Are you crazy? That means she can bake us!"
"It's good because that jibes with the story, and we have the means to kill her like Hansel and Gretel did. That's how we kill the bitch."
"I thought about throwing her in, but I can't do it with the pain..."
"Yeah, that's some pain, innit? Worse by far than what I get with just the chip."
"It... almost makes me feel sorry for you," Buffy said.
Spike rolled his eyes, "Almost? After the pain you got, you still don't feel for me?"
"I say 'almost', because the pain you get from the chip is the only thing keeping you from going on a killing spree."
Spike smiled a little and shrugged, "True 'nuff. But I never want you feelin' sorry for me. Don't need your pity."
"Oh right," Buffy said sarcastically, "when you got chipped, you came crawling to Giles' house for us to help you. You were begging for our pity -- and you nearly ruined my Thanksgiving."
Spike bristled at that. "Hey, I'm a bloody survivor! If asking for help leads to me living to fight another day, I'll do it. I'd like to see how intact your pride would be if you were starvin', defenseless, and you'd been violated."
"Violated? Geez, Spike, drama queen much?"
"You don't call being incapacitated, then having someone shove a piece of metal in your brain to control you 'violated'? You must have a much different definition of the word then. And I think that the homicidal Indian spirits had more of a chance of ruining your precious turkey dinner than me being tied to a bloody chair!"
"And when he turned into the bear... can't forget that," Buffy said, then gulped at the memory.
Spike fidgeted at the mention of the bear. "Yeah, and Tall, Dark and Forehead was swanning about behind the scenes too. See? I was the least of your worries that day. Don't go trying to put all the blame on me like you always do -- you and your soddin' posse." At a perilous look from Buffy, he explained, "I said 'posse', P-O-S-S-E."
"It's not even noon yet and I want to go back to sleep. I'm not in the mood to start fighting with you about stupid crap again." Buffy groaned and ran her hands back through her hair. Her pretty Bavarian braided 'do had suffered some damage since they first got here. It wasn't tidy anymore.
"Well... you started it." Spike sniffed. He pretended not to be too engrossed when Buffy took her hair down. She freed it from the pins, letting it fall, then began unbraiding it so she could fix it. "The longer hair suits you," he said as casually as he could.
"I wore it longer when I was a kid, got tired of it. Why the Unari felt the need to make my hair longer is added to the bottom of my list of questions. Just weird." She used her fingers to comb her hair because she didn't have a brush, and she sure as hell wouldn't use one that belonged to Evil Willow, though (judging by the sorry state of her hair and teeth) it didn't seem like the witch used brushes on anything other than floors -- ever.
Buffy's hair looked lustrous, despite it being messy. Spike's fingers itched to run through her golden tresses. It looked so silky, soft and shiny... 'Why can't I stop thinking shit like that? I've got to stop!'
After putting it into one big braid, she wound her waist length hair into a bun and secured it at the back of her head again as they talked. "I thought about throwing a bucket of water on her when I was outside, à la 'The Wizard of Oz'. I didn't because A) that would've been too easy a way to kill her, and I don't think we'd get that lucky, and B) it wouldn't work, and then she'd be soaked and very pissed off. Do you think I should've tried it anyway?"
Spike looked away from her, not wanting her to see how pleased he was that she was asking his opinion. He felt like a git that just a tiny bit of acceptance from her made him puff up. "Probably best you didn't try it. I doubt it would've worked either."
Buffy nodded, feeling better that Spike agreed. She'd been taught a lesson about not asking for or valuing his opinions, she'd try not to repeat the mistake. Then she sighed and stood back up. "I'd better start sweeping and scrubbing, I wouldn't want to get beat on for something avoidable." She took the broom and started seeping the floor. "I haaaate cleaning. Even normal cleaning that doesn't involve me being threatened with violence."
"I subscribe to the Lily Munster method of housekeeping, myself. I think dust and cobwebs give a home a more cozy feel."
"Yeah, I've seen your place," Buffy said with a slight smile. "Good thing you aren't the one being forced to clean, you wouldn't know how. It's so weird, why does she seem so fanatical about everything being clean? Wouldn't know it to look at her."
"It's a puzzler, alright. Her personal hygiene is horrible, but otherwise she's a neat freak."
They both chuckled and shared a shy sort of glance. It felt good to talk with each other like this. To joke and discuss things as if their straits weren't so dire.
"Why do you think she can't just *poof* everything clean or make everything she needs appear with the wand?" Buffy asked.
"The first answer that leaps to mind is that she's just evil and mad. But... maybe there're added reasons."
"Like what?"
"Like maybe she has a limited amount of magick energy in either the wand or herself, and she has to choose which things she uses it for before the power runs out." Spike started working on eating the mound of food in front of him, he didn't want to get shocked for something avoidable either.
"So if we made her use her magick up, we might be able to overpower her?"
"Possible, but a bit too risky for us to try. The only way we know for sure to get her to use the wand is when she zaps us, and I don't know how much of that either of us could take. That wand might have a big power supply. Plus, the draining her power thing is still just a theory."
They were quiet for a minute, thinking hard.
"You know, we get the pain when we touch her, but we could try chucking something at her head," Spike suggested. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to do anything because of the chip, but you can throw something at her with no trouble. Unless her looking like Willow still bothers you too much?"
"Oh, I think I'm rapidly getting over the aversion to hurting her."
Sly smiles appeared on both their faces.
Buffy continued, "I can't believe I didn't think of it myself, but you're right. I think the protection spell won't kick in if we're not actually putting our hands on her. The chip still works when you try to hurt her? She ain't exactly Human."
"Honestly, I don't know. The chip could have been going off but I couldn't tell with the extra pain. The pain I felt when grabbed her... well, you know what it feels like. That pain eclipses what the chip normally does."
Buffy nodded as she looked around for what her weapon of choice would be. "I'll take care of it, just have to figure out what to use on her."
"I'm partial to the axe," Spike said, nodding at where it hung on the wall.
Buffy screwed her face up, "That would be messy though..."
"What do you care? Your cleaning days will be over."
They laughed, giddy at the thought of being free.
"Good point. Alright, the axe it is. I'm pretty good with projectile weapons, I know I can make one throw count." Buffy put the broom down, then took the axe off the wall, gripping the handle and testing its sharpness. "I can sit on the hearth and wait for the bitch to open the door, then fling the axe right at her forehead."
"I don't know if that's a good idea."
She frowned and looked at him. "Why not? Don't you want to get out of here as soon as possible?"
"Yeah, but she might be anticipating that we'll try something while she's gone, that maybe we're laying in wait for her. I think it's best if we wait for the best time, when she won't be expecting anything."
Buffy sighed, then put the axe back on the wall. "This really is a kooky dimension -- you make sense here."
Spike rolled his eyes, "Thanks, Slayer. Nice backhanded compliment."
Buffy took the broom back in her hands, getting back to her assigned chores. "Okay then, I wait for the right time to split her head open. But what if there never is a right time? I want to get out of here today."
"Let's just hope that an opportunity presents itself, yeah? The sooner we escape the better. I ain't exactly havin' the time of my life either. But we've got to play it right."
Buffy's curiosity was still piqued from last night. She wouldn't reveal how frazzled she'd been last night when Spike had started singing, but she just had to ask him a question or two. She was ashamed of herself for letting the situation break her down enough to make her cry, and no doubt Spike would tease her about it.
"Were... you singing last night or was I dreaming it?" Buffy asked after a minute of silence.
Spike cocked an eyebrow; he wasn't sure if she would bring it up or not. "Offend your ears, did I?"
"No, you were... actually your voice isn't that bad." Buffy didn't want to let him know she thought he had a great voice, or how much she'd really liked it, how soothing she'd found it. "You sounded like an angel after the witch's singing."
"Hey, I'm a helluva lot better than Angel!" Spike said defensively. "Only time I didn't mind hearing him was during drinking songs, and that's only 'cos I was pissed drunk too. He's a bloody horrible singer and dancer, and I --"
Buffy interrupted, calmly saying, "I said you sounded like an angel -- not Angel with a capital A -- in comparison to her."
"Oh... Alright, then. Thanks." Spike felt blushy at misunderstanding her, but tried playing it off. "Though it wouldn't take much to top her singing voice."
"I never heard Angel sing or saw him dance."
"Consider yourself fortunate, luv."
In the spirit of getting along, Spike held back what he wanted to say, but silently wondered, 'What the hell did those two do when they were together? They only shagged the one time, so they weren't doing that. Probably did a lot of talking about their feelings, how they're so much in love, but couldn't be together... Morons...'
"How is it that you know the words to a Simon & Garfunkel song?"
"You think I don't have facets? I'm a bloody iceberg, Slayer, there's lots more to me under the surface."
"It's just hard to imagine you liking folk music."
He sighed, turning his face away. A small, wistful smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Dru loved it. Whenever she had an intense vision, and was especially... distraught, I would wrap my arms around her and sing to her. By the second verse, she would usually be singing along with me. She'd forget her troubles for just long enough to get some control over her emotions. I figured you could use a little soothing."
Buffy wondered how it was that someone like Dru (an insane, remorseless, brutal killer) got lucky enough to have someone so loving and protective of her. Then Buffy felt defensive -- was he saying he'd heard her crying and sang the song to calm her down like he'd done for loony tunes Drusilla?
"I sincerely hope that you aren't comparing me to that crazy bitch. I might've been... grappling with some issues, but I'm not a frickin' nutcase."
Spike shot her a look, his smile disappearing. "I happened to love that crazy bitch... so watch your bloody mouth."
"Why? Why did you love her so much? Was it because she made you? Some weird Vamp bond thing?"
"That's... none of your business. I think I gave you this speech once before, love isn't about reason. You don't weigh pros and cons, you just... feel."
She sighed. "Yeah... I know something about that too."
"By the forlorn expression on your face, I'll wager you're thinking about how much you love him," he said with distaste.
"Spike, can we not get into a debate about Angel? Told you before, I'm not in the mood."
"I meant Captain Cardboard." Spike smirked. That said it all as far as he was concerned. In a conversation about love, old Riley had been temporarily forgotten.
"Oh... w-well, I don't want to argue with you about him either." Buffy swept the floor with more energy, turning her back to Spike. She thought, 'Riley completely slipped my mind! What's wrong with me?! My sweet, kind, loving boyfriend is probably back home all worried about me... Oh God, I'm a horrible person!'
Buffy did love Riley, but not as much as she wished she loved him, or as much as he loved her. She loved him, but didn't think that she was in love. That upset her to no end. Why couldn't she be head-over-heels with a perfectly nice, normal guy? But she would make it work, dammit! When she got back to Sunnydale, she would do everything she could to work through all of the little problems she was having (and some of the big ones) with Riley. She wouldn't think about Angel... or certain other Vampires, as in any way attractive or alluring.
She glanced at Spike, seeing him eating another delicious-looking cookie. The cookie looked like a giant snickerdoodle; he appeared to actually be enjoying this one. His eyes closed momentarily with what looked like pleasure as he slowly chewed. Her mouth watered. But why exactly was her mouth watering? Some of it was due to the fact that she was starving for real food, but there were also the random thoughts popping up in her head about Spike himself. How beautiful he was, how strong, how... desirable. This wasn't the first time she'd noticed what a stone cold fox Spike was, but she was dwelling on it more now. It was this crazy dimension. It had to be. There was the perving on Spike back in the forest, the thinking he looked gorgeous by moonlight, and now she had the urge to jump him, to devour him and that cookie. This place was doing weird things to her head.
Buffy was distressed again. 'I *cannot* think of him that way! I went down the Vamp lusting path once and it sucked! Sucked in every meaning of the word. And Spike doesn't even have a soul! Sooo wrong. So... wrong. ' There was a little thrill that shot through her at the thought of doing something wrong, and that shamed her further.
She focused on the sweeping and thinking about possibly escaping later. It wouldn't be easy to kill the witch, but she was ready to do it. They had to get out of this place before they could be abused or starved any more.
Speaking of hunger, Buffy's stomach chose that moment to make a loud rumble.
Spike looked over at her when he heard Buffy's stomach growl. Buffy winced and rubbed her stomach, willing her body to shut up.
He looked to the pile of food, and then back at her. "Why don't you go ahead and have something?"
Buffy looked at the tasty treats and chewed on her lower lip. "But... she warned me about having any."
"You're hungry, I can hear your stomach devouring itself. Go on and have something. How's she gonna know? We'll be making our escape attempt later on, and you should be at your best when we do."
"Well... I guess eating one little thing wouldn't hurt, right?"
"Right." He gestured to the food in front of him, "Take whatever you want."
Buffy shuffled over and kneeled down next to the food. She didn't know what to pick, it all looked so good.
Spike picked out a big chocolate chip cookie and handed it to her. "One morsel couldn't hurt. Just make sure you get all of the crumbs and whatnot cleaned up, she might check your fingers or mouth."
Buffy nodded and licked her lips, then she took a big bite out of the cookie. "Mmmm! So good!" she mumbled, a few crumbs flying off of her lips. She made short work of the rest of the cookie.
"I'm sick of the bloody things, don't even taste good to me anymore. With the exception of that last enormous snickerdoodle, I'm a cinnamon fan." He smiled as he watched Buffy gobble up the cookie, then licking her fingers. "Better?"
"Yeah, God, I needed that! I'd better cover up any evidence right away, she might try to surprise us by coming back sooner than we expected."
Buffy went to the bucket of fresh water and took a drink, swishing it around in her mouth, and then washed her hands, making sure to get rid of any traces of chocolate chippy goodness.
"You got a bit of relief from your hunger, yeah?" Spike said.
"Mmmhmm. I could eat 10 more cookies just like the first one, but I think it took the edge off my hunger."
"Now if only I could take the edge off mine..."
The way his voice sounded made her look at him. His voice was deeper and disturbingly sexy. The look on his face matched the sensual tone of his voice.
"I need blood..." Spike's eyelids were lowered slightly, he looked at her in a way that made her fidget (and though she didn't acknowledge it, made her womany place tingle). "You wouldn't consider..."
"No, I would not," Buffy said rigidly. "There ain't no way I'm letting you suck my neck, buddy."
"It wouldn't have to be your neck..."
"You think that sweetens the deal for me?! I say again, NO." She gave him a look that told him that to suggest that again would mean getting punched. "I'm committed to my 'no sucking of any kind' policy."
Spike smirked, "Sorry to hear that... my condolences to Finn. Y'know, if you could survive on something my body manufactured naturally, I'd let you have a suck."
"Eww! You're so gross! I feel sorry for you, but I'm not letting you suck on any part of my body!"
"I'm starvin' to death! It wouldn't kill you to let me have just a sip!"
"Thought you didn't want my pity? And starving 'to death'? Not possible."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Sorry, I should've said 'starving until I look like a living skeleton'."
"We're not going to be here that long, remember? We're getting out of here tonight, I think you can survive that much longer without me opening a vein for you. That's the only reason you encouraged me to eat something, isn't it? Because you wanted to try guilting me into giving you my blood!"
Spike replied scornfully, "I suggested it 'cos the sounds your stomach was making were annoying me."
That wasn't true, of course. He'd suggested she eat something because he was worried about her. But he wasn't going to admit that, especially not now with her getting bitchy. Spike hadn't had any ulterior motives, but he wasn't going to say no if she offered him a bit of the ruby red to help keep him energized. He also wasn't as optimistic as Buffy was about their chances of getting away tonight, or even tomorrow. He had a bad feeling about it. After all, every one of Spike's plans had failed since he'd met Buffy, and this was partly his plan, so he was afraid that it was doomed to fail.
"Sorry I can't control the growling of my stomach, jerk."
Every time they made some headway in the 'getting along' department, they ended up pissing each other off somehow. How were they ever going to get through this if they couldn't stop arguing for more than 5 minutes at a time?
They were both quiet for some time after that, mad at each other for different reasons. Buffy finished sweeping, and then scrubbed the floor while Spike continued eating his food.
They stopped what they were doing when they heard the door open.
The witch came in carrying a big wicker basket of items she'd gotten in the village. Thankfully she was green and nasty looking again, it was extremely upsetting to have to interact with her when she looked and talked like the real Willow.
"Hello, poppets! Miss me?" Wicked Willow asked with a giggle. She talked as she put things away. "Looks like you two kept busy. Did you mind your manners?"
"Yes," they said, adding extra S's to the end, making it sound more like a hiss.
Buffy's eyes kept straying to the axe. She wished she would've done it her way and gotten the witch as soon as she'd come through the door. Spike was wrong about that, Evil Willow just strolled right in, not looking concerned or cautious at all. Buffy inwardly cursed herself for not following through with her initial instinct.
"You may sit down Buffy. I have more chores for you, so rest up!"
Buffy sighed and dropped the scrub brush back into the water, then went to her corner to rest for whatever amount of time she was given.
"You weren't thinking of doing something nasty to me before I came in, were you?" the witched asked, her eyes twinkling darkly.
"Now why would we want to do something like that?" Spike said smoothly. "As you can see, we didn't try anything, we're not stupid."
"I peeked in on you just to make sure! You both have lots of mischievous energy, got to keep my eye on you!"
"What do you mean you 'peeked in' on us?" Buffy asked. Was the witch talking about peeking through the window or was it a magick kind of peek?
"Never you mind, girlie. That's for me to know and you to find out!" She cackled.
If the witch could see or listen to them, they were more screwed than they'd thought. They glanced at each other and waited to see what the witch busted them on.
"I had to... have a drink of water," Buffy said.
Spike gave her a questioning look, wondering why she was admitting to anything.
Evil Willow put her hands on her hips and narrowed her black eyes. "You did, eh?"
"I-I was thirsty from working so hard." Buffy hung her head, hoping to look repentant.
"Hmm, I should punish you for your insolence. But... you were honest and admitted your wrongdoing, so I will forgive you this one time."
Buffy closed her eyes for a second and breathed with relief. She'd taken a gamble by admitting to drinking some water, thinking that maybe if she confessed to one small infraction, that she wouldn't be suspected of the other things.
The witch smiled. "I suppose you're right, you'll need more water to keep you strong enough to do your chores. I'll allow you a few cups a day."
Buffy squirmed uncomfortably because the witch was just staring at her now. Did she suspect that Buffy had snuck food too or did she know about their plan to attack her later? "What?"
"I'm waiting!"
"... For what?"
"I just graciously permitted you to have more water each day and decided not to punish you -- you need to thank me. You must have been raised in a barn! Terrible, awful manners!"
Buffy had to brace herself and force the words out between clenched teeth, "Thank you."
Wicked Willow giggled and clapped. "Was that so hard? You know, it's such a lovely day outside! You two should be out there letting the sunlight sink into your bones. Maybe I'll let you out to play, but only if you're good!"
"Aren't you forgetting that I can't go out in the sun?" Spike asked. "Or don't you believe me about that either?"
"You'd sizzle and pop, or so you claim. That sounds just as ridiculous as not getting plump from eating cakes and candies." She walked to Spike, making him nervous. "Stand up and let me see that splendid demon face again."
"Why?" he asked cautiously.
"Because I told you to do it, you don't need any more reason than that."
Spike slipped into his Vampire features as he stood up. "When are you going to start believing me about needing blood to live, not Human food?"
The witch had a gleam in her eye that Spike didn't like one bit. "Possibly very, very soon... Bite her!" she said, pointing at Buffy.
Buffy and Spike both said, "What?!"
"You prey on Humans, so bite her. I want to see it."
"No, I-I can't..."
"Why not?"
"It's a long story..."
"I think you have time, dearie."
There were several reasons why he didn't feel that he could actually bite Buffy, the problem of the chip seemed to be the safest explanation. "I don't think you'll understand."
"I know you think I'm stupid, boy, but I assure you that I am not," she said menacingly. "Think it's beyond my tiny brain's ability to understand, do you?"
"The place we come from is different..." Spike growled in frustration, not knowing how to explain it. "The... military captured me because I'm a demon, they put me in a cage, and..." He wasn't sure how to describe it to someone from a time and place without modern technology. "They implanted a device in my head that makes it impossible for me to hurt a Human, not without feeling the same kind of pain I get from your protection spell. It's a... sort of magick they practice."
"Ah, I see..." The witch looked thoughtful but not confused. "So you can't sink those lovely teeth into her without having pain yourself?"
"Right." Spike sighed, relieved that she seemed to understand the basics and wasn't questioning how the chip worked.
She smiled. "Then I'll slit her throat. String her up by her feet and butcher her like a hog. I want to watch you feed."
Spike's eyes widened. "No! Don't... I won't... I won't drink her blood. All you'd accomplish would be making a mess of your floor, and you'd lose your live-in housekeeper."
Buffy's eyes had widened too. She gulped and reflexively put her hand to her throat. His wanting a taste of her blood was what their argument had been about just before the witch came back.
"It will be worth it!" the witch replied with a laugh. "If you're fond of her and don't wish her to die, I can just slice her open somewhere that won't kill her. I don't like compromising, boy, but I'm keen on seeing you drink from her."
"Doesn't matter what you do, I won't drink her blood," Spike said firmly, puffing his chest out.
Evil Willow's smile turned into a scowl. "You'll do as I say!"
"No."
"The fact that you refuse to do it makes me think that you've been lying about needing blood."
"You keep animals, yeah? Bring me one of them, I'll show you how I feed. You'll see I'm not lying."
"I don't want to watch you kill an animal, I want to see you drink her blood!"
"And I said NO!" Spike bellowed. His anger was getting the best of him. He was so hungry, and Slayer blood was like ambrosia. But he couldn't in reality feed on Buffy, it didn't matter even if the witch gave her a non-lethal cut, he couldn't do it. The main reason was because he knew Buffy would hate it, she'd be revolted, but he also refused because he couldn't trust himself. He was so hungry... he might lose control and take more than he should.
Buffy was inching in the direction of the axe. Spike and Evil Willow were staring each other down, their nostrils flaring. Spike was going to be 'disciplined' any second now, and Buffy intended on putting the plan into motion.
"Let's see how much of what else you told me is true," the witch said, touching Spike's chain with her wand; the chain became enchanted to lengthen as Buffy's did.
Spike's bumpy brow furrowed, he didn't know what she was doing. "What're you --"
She took Spike by the wrist and started to walk toward the windows. "Let's say hello to Mr. Sun!"
Spike twisted his wrist out of her grasp. "I ain't goin' near the bloody window!"
"Come along, boy!" She tried grabbing his arm again, but Spike kept pulling away. Then she tired of the little game and just zapped him with the wand.
Spike squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, yelling in pain and dropping to his knees. The witch took his wrist and dragged him toward the window. Spike wasn't able to struggle, just groan and twitch.
"Stop!" Buffy shouted. "If you put him in the sunlight he'll go up in flames! It's the truth!"
"And I'll just take your word for it?" Wicked Willow laughed. "No, dearie, I need proof. I don't trust you little rapscallions any more than you trust me."
Buffy got to her feet, the window was between her and the axe, and the witch was currently moving into her path. There were no other weapons available near her, and she already knew what would happen if she tried manhandling Evil Willow. She didn't know what to do.
The witch held Spike's hand in the sunlight coming in through the window. His hand started to smolder.
The sounds Spike was making changed, becoming more distressed, reminding Buffy of a dying animal caught in a trap. He tried jerking his arm out of the witch's grasp, but she had no trouble keeping hold of him. She just watched his hand smoke, redden, and begin to blister with an inquisitive smile.
"Let him go!" Buffy yelled. "You see that we weren't lying! He's going to die if you don't get him out of the light!"
Then flames popped up on Spike's hand. The witch finally let go of his arm. Spike immediately threw himself as far from the window as he could, and brought his hand to his chest and rolled on top of it to put out the flames. Buffy wasn't sure how much of what he was doing was just survival instinct or if he were cognizant enough to think about protecting himself.
He was growling and sounded like he was trying to yell something, but he was still in the grips of the effects of the wand, his words coming out garbled. Considering how insulting and laden with profanity what he was trying to say probably was, it was a good thing that the witch couldn't understand him.
Wicked Willow shook her head and laughed. "Oh my! You weren't lying about that one!" She bent over Spike's shaking body. "Hmm, maybe I could take a bite out of that half-cooked hand, see what broiled Vampire tastes like."
Buffy went for it: she ran to the axe, plucked it off the wall, then threw it in a matter of seconds.
The axe flew straight and true at the back of the witch's head. Buffy prepared for the splat -- but the axe just seemed to bounce off of the witch without causing any harm, then clattered to the floor.
Buffy stared in disbelief, "Shit!" The protection spell apparently had some added bonuses that they hadn't been aware of...
The witch straightened up and whirled on her, looking from the fallen axe to Buffy. "Bad, wicked girl!"
What does one say to an evil witch after a failed attempt at killing her? "Um... oops, the axe slipped -- I wasn't throwing it at you..." Buffy said lamely, backing up until she bumped into the front door. The witch looked eerily calm as she stalked toward Buffy. "I couldn't just stand there! I had to do something! You were going to hurt him!"
"And now, I'm going to hurt you!"
Buffy didn't have time to even try defending herself. Pain and darkness filled her mind, causing her to blackout. She didn't expect to wake up again...
When Buffy came to, the witch was nowhere around. She sat up, groaning and still trembling a bit from getting zapped. Spike was sitting in his corner, looking relieved to see her awake.
"Thought you were going to snuff it for a few minutes there."
"No... not yet. I really thought she was going to kill me... How long was I out?"
"'Bout 5 minutes, I think. I was out of it too, don't really know for sure."
Buffy sighed, "The axe didn't work."
"So I gathered," Spike said, frowning.
"She's got some kind of force field or something around her... Son of a bitch! Where is she?" Buffy looked all around.
Spike nodded toward the front door, "Went back outside. Doin' what, I don't know."
Buffy crawled over to her corner. The blanket wasn't much, but it was more comfortable than the bare floor. She leaned back against the wall. "How's your hand?" she asked, seeing that he'd ripped one of his shirt sleeves off and had it wrapped around his burned left hand. "She didn't... try eating your hand, did she?"
Spike raised his eyebrows and looked at this hand, flexing his fingers slightly, "No, my feelers are in one piece, just burned a bit. The burn isn't too bad, looks worse than it really is. Should be healed in a day or two. 'Course... that's the normal time it would take with me getting my daily serving of blood."
"She's got to believe you about needing blood now, right? I mean, you showed her the fangs, and she saw your reaction to sunlight. She knows you were telling the truth about those things."
Spike shook his head. "Nope. Stubborn bitch refuses to believe it. She also said that she'll kill us next time one of us tries something on her. I think she means it."
Buffy hugged her knees, resting her chin on them. "That's just great... Oh... and thanks."
"For what? Ah, was that a sarcastic thanks? You're really tryin' to stick it to me 'cos I did something wrong?"
"No, not sarcastic. I know how hungry you must be... but you refused to drink any of my blood when she was ordering you to do it. And you knew she'd punish you for it, but you risked standing up to her anyway... You really surprised me."
"Don't know whether I should be flattered or offended that you expected the worst of me yet again."
"Well, you are soulless and everything. And even people with souls have betrayed their friends in similar situations when they were hungry or scared enough. You came through for me and I... appreciate it."
Spike nodded once, then looked away. He didn't know how to handle Buffy being so sincere, her eyes and voice showing real gratitude. "Don't mention it."
"Why did you say no exactly?"
No way could he admit the whole naked truth to her. "We're in this together, ain't we? We get out of this together -- with all our parts intact -- or we don't get out at all. I've got your back, Slayer."
They smiled softly at each other for a moment.
Spike had to look away again, her eyes were pulling him in like an undertow, even from this distance. "I hope that you feel you can trust me a bit more now."
Buffy smiled wanly, snorting quietly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you showed me that I can trust you, Spike."
He still felt shaky and his hand hurt like a bitch, but her saying she trusted him buoyed his spirits considerably. He had to make an effort not to grin like a jackass.
"Looks like we have to come up with a new plan... What are we going to do now?" Buffy asked.
Spike hung his head back, looking up at the ceiling. "Reply hazy, ask again later," he said, mixing a few Magic 8-Ball answers.
At the Magic Box...
So far, none of them were able to come up with examples of nice stepmothers, witches, or wolves in fairy tales. Riley just got back from Giles' house.
"Did I miss anything?" Riley asked, putting the box of books down on the counter.
Giles thanked him and started taking the books out carefully, some were quite old.
"There are new pictures," Anya said, waving him over.
Riley hurried to her and blinked in surprise. "Oh my God... Is that really them?"
"We think so. Don't they look cute?"
"Well... Buffy looks cute. Spike looks like an idiot -- which is appropriate." Riley chuckled and pointed to the first picture, "Look at his stupid outfit, those shorts are hilarious!"
"I think he looks handsome. The shorts show off Spike's impressive basket. It's like he's smuggling sausage in his shorts."
"Anya, honey..." Xander groaned and rubbed his eyes. "What did we talk about earlier?"
"You mean about how I shouldn't mention how hot or well-endowed Spike looks in the pictures in front of Riley? Oh... oops." She bit her lip and looked back down at the book.
Xander groaned again. Willow patted him on the back. "Hey, she held out longer than I thought she would. I owe Tara five bucks."
"Why would I care what Spike looks like?" Riley huffed. "He looks stupid."
Anya explained, "Because men can get jealous of other men more gifted in the penis department. I thought you had a small --"
"Anya! For the love of all things good and holy -- stop talking!" Xander pleaded.
Riley glared at the drawing of Spike. "I'm not jealous of that son of a bitch! He's skinny and short! Every centimeter of that bastard is evil."
Anya studied the picture. "I'm guessing 23 centimeters of pure evil, maybe more. That's about 9 inches to you Americans. Why didn't you ever convert to the metric system? Everybody else in the world uses it."
Riley was getting redder in the face. "No way is he more -- gifted than me!"
"Uh, okay... I believe you," Anya said unconvincingly, clearly not believing it.
"You want me to prove it?! I'll prove it!" Riley started unbuttoning his pants.
The Scoobies were horrified -- with the exception of Anya, who had turned in her chair with eyebrows raised, ready to get a gander of Riley's equipment. She'd never pass up a chance to see a penis.
Xander ran over and put a hand on Riley's shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Whoa! Ri, let's calm down, okay? We don't... need to see that."
Riley stopped and closed his eyes, his shoulders slumping. He ran a shaky hand back through his hair. "God, I don't know what's wrong with me..."
"We're all, um, worried about Buffy. Makes us think and do the wacky..." Xander gave him a pat on the back. "Could someone else watch the book for a minute? I need to have a little talk with my lady..." he gave Anya a pointed look.
Tara volunteered to take up book watching duty.
Anya sighed as she gave up her seat to Tara, knowing she was about to get another lecture about being 'tactful and appropriate'. But she got up and followed Xander into Giles' office. She hadn't meant to upset Riley -- how was she supposed to know he'd go crazy and try showing his dick to everyone? It was a good thing Xander had stopped him -- Anya was positive that Riley's penis couldn't cash the check his mouth wrote.
"Sorry... I'm really sorry about that, everyone," Riley said sheepishly after the office door closed; he made sure his pants were buttoned and zipped.
"Th-That's okay," Tara said, trying to be understanding. "We're all under a lot of pressure."
Giles concentrated on unpacking the box of books, giving Riley a wary glance occasionally. 'Bloody hell, the boy's cracking up. That's all I need -- a mentally unstable, physically imposing ex-soldier. I have to think of more busy work for him...'
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