Less than an hour after the reverberating ‘slam’ hit the room, the trio of Giles, Willow and Xander set out into the night in an attempt to locate Buffy. The consensus that Buffy shouldn’t have hunted Angelus and Drusilla alone was the fuel that fed their search. Each hour that passed without seeing neither hide nor hair of Buffy, filled them with complete and utter dread.
As the dawn broke through the darkness, the trio headed toward Revello Drive, in futile hopes that she was there. Upon a preliminary sweep, their fears were confirmed. Buffy was gone. Worse still, she was most likely in the hands of Angelus and Drusilla. With a slight ray of hope Willow spoke to the increasingly distressed males.
“Maybe she’s with Spike? They could have met up somewhere and….” Willow’s speech was hesitant, as she looked upon each of their faces for a reaction.
“You may be correct Willow. Does either of you know where Spike is currently residing?” Giles inquired.
“Buffy hasn’t been very forthcoming, since she became a, you know. She never said anything to you?” Willow retorted.
“Not exactly. I do remember in passing, when she and Spike were having their difficulties, Buffy wanted to avoid Restfield Cemetery at all costs. Now thinking back, maybe that is where he is, possibly housed in one of the many crypts located there. I fear that may be the only lead that we have at this moment,” Giles stated solemnly. With dual nods from Xander and Willow, they headed into the early morning light.
“Giles, how many crypts are in this joint? It’s amazing that people still decide to move here! If you ask me, a town that has more headstones than houses, would not be a place that I would want to hang my hat!” Xander snapped as he trudged behind Willow and Giles’ quick gait.
“I do agree Xander, but now is not the time to discuss the market value of Sunnydale’s properties.” Giles retorted as he hovered upon the threshold of the seventh crypt they sought to check. “As before, stay close. We are unsure if this may be a vamps nest.” Giles instructed as he pushed against the heavy barrier that separated them from the inner sanctum of the mausoleum.
Once the door opened, the trio entered with trepidation. Inside, darkness and stale, cold air consumed their forms as they continued forward. The yellowish beam of Giles’ flashlight dispersed the gloom, as he inspected the interior. Once the muted beam discovered what laid before them, Giles’ azure eyes widened in disbelief.
Splayed upon a sarcophagus, was Spike’s naked and battered form. Immediately, Giles instructed Willow to exit, as he gradually approached the vampire. Shackles upon his wrists and ankles restrained Spike’s limbs. Each chain was wrapped around a displaced gravestone, to add to the imprisonment. Upon his upper chest and lower abdomen, were two large bowls of clear fluid. Judging by the burns that surrounded them, Giles believed that they were filled with holy water.
Giles looked upon the imprisoned vampire with utter shock. Spike’s typical flawless skin was marred with bruises, abrasions and gashes. His face exhibited the brunt of the attack; lips split and bloodied, cheeks battered and covered with more horrendous injuries. One eye swollen completely shut, with caked blood sealing the lashes to his pale flesh. Giles studied him, debating how to proceed. In an instant, one cerulean eye beheld Giles, in a silent plea to release him.
Giles placed the flashlight down upon the stone slab, and with a deep cleansing breath, he cautiously removed the bowl that was placed upon Spike’s chest. Once the corrosive fluid was cleared, Spike spoke.
“Thanks Watcher. Please do be carefully with the one by my manly bits. Slayer would be right pissed if any water spilled there,” Spike jested as he remained absolutely still.
With an angered glare from Giles, he proceeded to remove the second bowl. Once his body was cleared, Spike inhaled deeply, with utter relief. Giles attempted to remove one shackle that encompassed Spike’s left wrist. As he worked Spike’s vampire guise burst forward as he growled.
“Where’s Buffy?”
“She’s not with you?” Xander asked as he hovered in the middle of the room.
“Yeah whelp. Buffy and I combined hide and seek with bondage, hence my current state! Watcher, why is she not with you? She was never to patrol alone!” Spike snarled as Giles continued to work upon the metal links.
“Spike, I assure you that none of us intended for her to do so. It was just last night, well last night….” Giles explained, as his eyes remained fixated upon his task.
“Watcher, I heard about your lady, and I’m truly sorry for your loss, but that does not mean that other lives are less important! You sent my mate out, alone to battle two master vamps!” Spike continued to roar as Giles removed one set of chains.
Still restrained, upon the three other limbs, Spike’s free hand lunged forward and wrapped around Giles’ neck. In an instant, his face was mere inches from the infuriated vampire. Giles’ feet sought purchase as his legs buckled from underneath him. Between the gasps, Giles heard Spike’s enraged, but controlled voice, which chilled him to the core.
“They have her. Those sadist bastards have my mate and there is no telling what they have in store for her. If one hair is amiss from her golden tresses, I will inflict pain upon you tenfold. Are we clear Rupert?” Spike hissed as he released his now reddened throat with a callous shove.
With a shaky intake of breath, Giles nodded his understanding. Without another word, Giles, with the aid of Xander, released the remaining three restraints. Once he was freed from his metal confines, Spike pulled his battered form from the stone slab. With a few leisurely stretches, his demon receded, as he searched for some clothing. Unabashed with his nude state, he began to speak.
“What time did Buffy leave your flat last night?”
“Slightly after sundown,” Giles explained with a faintly raspy voice.
“That explains the vibes that I received last night while heading toward your flat. So she’s been gone for what, eighteen hours or so?” With a diminutive nod from Giles, he continued. “That means that we have another six before the sun goes down. In those six hours, we need to locate Buffy and get her out!” Spike declared as he slid his worn denims upon his bruised legs. With a minimal wince, he placed his ratty, bloodied black tee over his head and settled it upon his battered form.
“Any questions?” Spike snapped at the two reserved males before him.
With only silence greeting his question, Spike ordered Xander to get Willow, so the four of them could discuss strategy. An hour into their preparations, Xander spoke.
“Hey G-man, what about that spell? The one we used to find Will when insane chick had her?”
“That’s an excellent idea Xander.” With hesitation, Giles spoke to Spike. “Spike we can’t do the spell here. All the supplies I require are back at my flat,” Giles explained.
“That’s fine Watcher. Sewers run all throughout this town. Head home, prepare. I’ll be there soon,” Spike ordered as the foursome stood. Without a word, Spike disappeared from the crypt, in a flash of leather. As the remainder trio left the tomb, not a word was spoken, even though everyone’s mind was fixated upon one thing, Buffy.
*** *****
Reality lapped at the edges of the dark abyss of Buffy’s unconsciousness, first with tender caresses, which quickly transformed into harsh shakes. Buffy attempted to trudge through the thick cotton, which encompassed her being. Heavy lids fluttered as Buffy tried to clear the haze that polluted her mind. Her tongue lies thick within the confines of her parched mouth. After the brief assessment of her body, her mind attempted to release tendrils forward. Her face and body perched upon something hard, smooth, and round. Pulses of air flittered around the exposed parts of her flesh.
Despite the attempt of gradually understanding her new surroundings, the distant croon of a familiar voice, mandated the process to increase in pace.
“So the siren decided to arise. I will not fling myself upon the rocks, unlike the men you have enticed with your songs. Powerless bird in a gilded cage is your fate now,” Drusilla cooed as she approached Buffy.
With all the strength that she could muster, Buffy forced her eyes open to behold the woman that approached her. The first concept that she could comprehend, was that she was almost eye-level with the insane vampiress. As Buffy placed her hands under her seemingly weighty form, her fingers slipped slightly, only her palms rested upon an object. Her head lolled down as she noticed that she was enclosed in a large metal cage, which was suspended at least five feet off the ground.
Drusilla’s voice rang out again as she was now only several feet away from Buffy’s hovering form.
“Miss Edith whispered nasty lies to me in my slumber. She warned me that you are here to take my daddy away. That his vessel hovers precariously by the deadly rocks, with one song, he will be lost to me forever!” Drusilla’s words started soft and controlled. Upon the completion of her sentence, her voice shrilled, as the words fell from her lips.
Buffy attempted to retort to her rants, but before she could, Drusilla continued. Her wild gaze held Buffy’s as she was now standing before her prone form.
“Miss Edith will be punished for her lies. She will no longer eat cakes with the rest of us. Or does she speak the truth harlot?” Scrutinizing Buffy, she continued. “What song do you sing, that makes the greatest black knights fall?” As listening to voices not present, Drusilla’s head tilted, and then she continued. “You are truly not a temptress as I so believed. Your maidenhead was given to my William. He schooled you on the pleasures of the flesh, as I he. The song does not live between your thighs.”
Buffy attempted to move slowly away from her. As she shifted, the cage slightly rattled, warning Drusilla of her movements.
Lightning-quick, Drusilla snagged a fistful of Buffy’s hair as she dragged her body harshly towards the edge of the bars. Brutally, the tender flesh adorning her forehead crashed upon the unforgiving metal. Instantly, blood trickled down from the gash left upon her brow. Stars burst forward, as Buffy’s vision doubled. Within inches of the enraged vampire, Buffy attempted to speak. Words formed within her throat, but were never produced.
The heady scent of Buffy’s blood permeated the small space between Drusilla and her. Drusilla’s turquoise eyes widened as instantaneously, her demon slid forward. She released Buffy’s tresses as her body began to sway, as if she was entranced. With a fearful stare, Buffy watched her undulate to a song only present within her mind.
“Your… song…. fills… my…. head,” Drusilla cooed as her body moved as a flame upon the wind. Abruptly, her movements stopped. Her golden gaze held Buffy’s bewildered one, as she spoke again.
“I must know your lyrics.”
In a flash of movements, Drusilla had an iron grip upon Buffy’s wrist, her razor-like fangs embedded into the soft flesh of her forearm. Buffy’s mouth held agape for several moments before a scream tore from her throat. The cry, a combination of pain, fear, and anger, pierced through the silence that once filled Buffy’s soul. As her life’s blood flowed into the throat of Drusilla, each draw pulled her essence also. Buffy’s heavy lids closed as she envisioned her mate. With silent declarations of “I love you” and “I’m sorry”, she awaited death to come and consume her.
Upon the third unspoken avowal, a thunderous growl filled her ears. Simultaneously, the greedy mouth upon her flesh was torn away. Once the leech upon her body was removed, Buffy immediately moved her body to a seated position. She cradled her injured arm to her chest, as her legs gained purchase; she pushed herself to the opposite side of the cage. She willed her eyes to open, to behold what was transpiring before her.
Drusilla sprawled upon the floor, human features present; her turquoise eyes large and pleading, full lips trembling, as she stared at the person above her. The view would have caused a slight swell of empathy, except for the blood that was smeared across her lips and chin, which was a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. Buffy’s gaze moved to the force that caused this master vamp to cower. Angelus.
“How dare you!” Angelus roared. Buffy felt a slight sense of hope with his words, until all optimism collapsed upon his continuance. “The Slayer is mine! Her blood is for my palate alone! How dare you steal from your sire!”
“Daddy, I’m sorry. Her song called to me! My vessel crashed like all the rest! Please, please forgive your princess,” Drusilla begged, as she crawled upon hands and knees towards Angelus’ form.
For the first time since he had arrived, Buffy noticed not only his presence, but him. He stood before Drusilla, full demon visage. His bare chest heaved with unneeded breaths. Buffy’s eyes scanned his form slightly and noticed that he was sans clothing and obviously aroused by the groveling and/or the heady scent of blood that filled the air.
Once she reached him, Drusilla clung to his body as ivy to a lamppost. She slithered and twisted until she knelt before him. Without another word, her blood stained lips opened as her mouth encased his pulsating erection. Buffy tried to look away, but as a moth to a flame, her eyes were drawn to the sight before her.
Angelus’ fists were filled with raven locks as she greedily worshiped him. Coos and moans filled the room, as they heralded their total enjoyment of his callous act. Despite this violent action, the one thing that made Buffy’s blood run cold, were his golden eyes. Which were trained upon her, the entire time.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I hope you all enjoy.
Chapter End Notes:
Reviews are cherished and needed! Side note, yes the cage that Buffy is in, is the same one that the Anoited, or as Spike put it the Annoying One, hung from.