let in the brilliant light of morning
but steady me now
for I am weak and starving for mercy
He knew tonight had gone well by any standard. It was all finally starting to come together, after a month of fretting and worrying over his missing fiancé. The brass hadn't wanted to believe him at first. They stupidly had thought that she could handle it, that the operation was actually going to work.
Fucking idiots, the lot of them.
Riley allowed himself to relax as the elevator doors finally opened. This part of his day was routine. No matter what time he stepped into the poorly lit hallway of this shitty motel, it gave him a chance to relax. Hours had passed since he last saw Xander at the den. It was well into the next day but he didn't care. Sleeping was difficult for him anyway.
"Buffy" he said softly. He caught himself saying her name too often, during his lunch break when he'd loiter with the evidence room technicians, or even as he lay down with one of the girls that had some common name but answered to 'whore'. They didn't mean anything. It was just what he had to do, had always done to a certain extent. Buffy not being around had only made it more apparent to those around him. The hotel room was bare except for the small pile of clothes on one side of the bed. After a month, it looked barely lived in. He struggled to breathe for a moment. Even saying her name hurt. He tore his shirt off, uncaring as it fell to the ground.
Riley hadn't gone back home for a month now, and wouldn't until she came back. It was hard enough seeing her photos displayed on other officers' desks as signs of mourning.
Riley hated the sympathetic looks they gave him.
Everyone had feared the worst after she didn't report back the second time, but now it looked like Buffy had become a true casualty of the circle. Riley punched the bed, struggling to control himself. She should never have been there or accepted the position and she had known it all the while.
It was all Faith's fault. Riley had hoped that the older woman would've shown her an alternate path, one where she didn't want to go into that line of work and instead be his wife. It had backfired on him horribly. After Faith was exposed for going beyond the rules of engagement and murdering a snitch, Buffy had tried even harder to prove that the same wouldn't happen to her. She didn't want to accept that women just can't do this kind of job. Too headstrong for her own good. Even worse, Buffy seemed to relish the danger but all Riley had wanted to do was protect her.
And at every turn she had rejected him. Not even an engagement ring could stop her from going undercover… The emptiness of the room seemed to mock him.
He turned over until his back was completely against the mattress and stared up at the cracked paint on the ceiling. He had been fooling himself for a long time, hoping that she would turn into a normal girl. But was it so much to ask for? Every time he had tried to get close, Buffy hadn't needed him. Now he couldn't even find out whether she was okay and it was driving him mad.
But that won't be for long. They could think Riley was stupid and a hick all they wanted. It only helped him to steal away drugs and information to buy what he needed. Drusilla had been a lucky find and before long he would be someone to be frightened of; someone who had power.
Ever since Drusilla had suggested it, Riley had been unable to get the idea out of his head. Why did cops never have the same power as those they tried to arrest? If anything he was the good guy and yet he only got better treatment due to his parentage. No Riley Finn, captain of the New York police squad for organized crime, deserved better. He was worth more than that. And by the time he was done, Buffy would need him. And be thankful for what he gave her.
But first he needed Xander. The man was weak and easy to manipulate but he didn't take kindly to authority. Drusilla and her special touch was necessary in order to convince him to help out. Now that the two had met, Riley could only imagine the uses the man would have for him. He needed an in with the working class crews and everyone knew where Xander came from. Dru would see to it that he didn't object.
He couldn't go home anymore and the more Riley considered it, why would he want to?
"Do you know anything about what goes on here?" Hunter leaned against the door this morning, his eyes flickering at the clean plates that had been stacked earlier with muffins and poached eggs.
Buffy lowered her eyes, "my training only gave me a general idea of the circle and its operations." She watched him out of the corner of her eye, waiting for his next move. Everyone around here moved as though they were ghosts and she was sick of being caught off guard. She was dressed in a collared shirt, the cut feminine as it tucked into dress pants. Sometime in the middle of the night, clothes had been neatly packed away into the drawers of her dresser. Her heart skipped a beat as Hunter motioned for her to walk out of the bedroom. It had been a long week of silence and only a weedy little man named Warren for company. Buffy suspected that he had done something to the orange juice that he left each day but couldn't prove it.
It was the only way she could rationalize sleeping through someone entering the room without her knowledge.
Unable to help the gasp, Buffy surveyed the room directly outside her bedroom. Sometime in the last week Spike had moved out of it completely, to the point where she was able to breathe a sigh of relief when his blonde head didn't peek around the bedroom door. Hunter smiled slightly at her surprise. The bedroom was large but it didn't match the rest of the top area, what with the extended living room and bar off to the far left of the room. Buffy almost wanted to sit and watch the large TV in the center of the room but hesitated when she saw Hunter again gesture towards a set of large reinforced doors.
"Are we really going outside?"
Hunter shrugged, his massive shoulders seeming to push against the tight fabric of his shirt. "I thought it would be something different for you" he paused, "but I can always leave you here if you prefer."
"Oh gods no" said Buffy hastening forward. "I think I'd go crazy if left in there any longer."
"That's what I told Spike."
The ride down the elevator was silent but then Buffy didn't want Hunter to talk to her that much . After all he had helped imprison her. Plus there was the whole being friends with Spike thing. For the tenth time, she stole a look at him and wondered how such a Neanderthal could operate in organized crime. He certainly didn't look like he could do more than tie his shoes.
He pushed her through the doorway and out into the ground floor, not bothering to wait as she looked around them.
"Where are you taking me?" This time her voice was tighter. Maybe Spike had finally gotten sick of her lingering around the house and was going to send her back to Drake. Immediately dread filled her and her knees buckled. She sunk to the ground, panic ripping through her veins. She couldn't go back there. Not after the beatings.
"What's wrong with you now?" Hunter asked. He loosened his grip around her wrists, as the small woman in front of him seemed to crumble. Her eyes were closed but she was shaking as though freezing. "Hey, I'm not going to hurt you" he said in what he hoped was a gentle voice. He felt like he was trying to coax a kitten out from under the couch. "I just thought you might like to go outside."
Buffy forced her eyes open and was confronted by heavy eyes. "You're not going to send me back?"
"What?" Hunter asked surprised, "of course not. You're worth too much to Spike." He pulled her up and swung open the doors before she could say anything else. "Wes has found out a lot about you, and Spike thought you might like to see the stables."
Buffy tried not to swallow her tongue with surprise as Hunter prodded her along outside. The mansion was huge but standing directly outside of it, she felt tiny. They had never managed to get information on Spike, beyond that he was Masters protégé, but this amount of wealth? It was staggering.
"You can stare all you like, just remember that you'll never be able to use the intel." Hunter waited a few feet away, but he still had a holstered gun at his side. It looked almost comical on him. Buffy doubted that any people would try to fight him when he looked so imposing. Except for me.
The grass was still wet with dew and her shoes, conveniently also procured by the mystery shopper, were soon covered with sticky seeds from blooming spring flowers.
"Is he mad at me?" she asked. Not that I care or anything.
Hunter stumbled at the question. "No." He saw her skeptical expression, "well, maybe a little. He doesn't like being defied."
"Well that’s all that is going to happen as long as he keeps me here", she retorted. What else can he expect? Buffy halted as she felt Hunter place his hand on her shoulder. "What are you doing? I'm not going to run –"
"You're making a mistake", Hunter said gruffly. "Spike is the only person keeping you safe. And when Angel comes you're going to regret ever pissing him off."
"See Spike said the same thing but he didn't explain it". She didn't even want to think about Angel right now. When was she going to get away from all these men and their nets?
Hunter stepped closer, this time not bothering to assure her that she would be safe. Fear was a sensible reaction and right now the twit needed to feel it. "Why should we have to explain ourselves? You're the enemy. If it weren't for you the boss would never have had to kill Masters at all!" His hands became his fists at the memory of the brutal execution. He had protected Masters ever since he was able to carry a gun.
"He killed him? That old man?" Buffy asked. The crotchety man had come near her only twice and then to ask only whether she was enjoying herself. Not that much of a big bad at all.
Hunter sighed heavily. She didn't understand anything at all. He'd thought that Spike would've told her something, maybe explained about the cross but it wasn't his place… Just because Spike hadn't killed anyone lately didn't mean that he wouldn't snap at the thought of Buffy knowing all his secrets.
Secrets that needed to be kept.
Instead Hunter stepped away from Buffy, his hands cold as he thought of the consequences. "You're going to have to get the truth from him. I'm just a lieutenant and you should know better anyway. Didn't they teach you anything at pig school?"
He ignored Buffy's awkward punch at his arm as he turned and continued walking. A minute later he heard her follow. This time they both kept silent.
Let Spike deal with her.
The rest of the day was relaxing enough, but Buffy's head was practically stuffed full of questions. True to his craggy demeanor, Hunter did not say another word and just watched her as she curried a roan mare. One of the stable hands had called her Rose when handing over the haltered horse. Buffy smiled as Rose nibbled on the edge of her shirt. The stables were expansive and it was obvious that the men enjoyed riding. Of course everything was done with the knowledge that the circle owned it, from the insignia on the doors of the stable to the stable hands themselves. There would be no chance of escape if she asked the servants. Buffy suspected that they were just as badly caught within the circle's web, maybe even enjoyed the benefits that came with illegal work. But here, for the moment, she could relax and finally breathe in fresh air.
She didn't even realize it was dark until Hunter tapped her on the shoulder.
Spike tried to make the headache dissipate, but it was no use. "You mean he's coming here?" What did the wretched fuck want now? "Drake can't possibly have allowed this."
Wesley fought the urge to clean his glasses and instead stared at the carpet between them. The informal meeting had unnerved him, no more so, when Hunter had stepped out of the room, leaving him alone with a rabid Spike. The Brit looked like he had barely slept, his eyes bloodshot and his shirt unbuttoned down to the navel.
Yet Wesley was no fool. The boss was never going to be truly vulnerable. Spike always had a back up plan, even if he was notorious for being spontaneous. You had to be in this line of work.
"I can only give you what the spies are telling me. Boss" he added.
"Well it's not fucking good enough!" Spike stalked across the room now, his rage palpable. "Angel has no right, no bloody right to check up on me, after the fucking fiasco he caused. I'm –" He took a deep breath and then looked at the other English man. Drake had sent him not a day after Buffy left, with a little threat attached. Everything was going to hell.
"You're no fucking good to me, y' know". Spike waited until the brunette acknowledged his gaze and then continued. "'ve known from the bloody start that you're Drake's eyes and I won't have that here, sod the circle to hell. I'm Drake's equal now not his bleeding lap dog."
"He doesn't trust you." Wes stated it matter-of-factly. It was no use to try flattery with Spike, not when he could easily read the lie in his face. "I'm not saying you aren't loyal" Wes added hastily, fear spiking as dark blue eyes seemed to flare with anger, "but he knows you want Angel gone and he has to protect his brother."
"Has to, or is forced to?" Spike asked rhetorically. He sat down again and tried to calm himself. Buffy would be waiting for him tonight, courtesy of Hunter and he had to get through her, work out what in bloody buggering hell he was going to do. The cross had weighed on his mind for some time now. And the more Angel tried to seek him out, to gather fucking intelligence like some snake in the grass, the more Spike's blood wanted to boil. It was just like the poofter to try this.
"I want to be one of you." Wesley crossed the floor himself, kneeling until he was just below Spike's line of sight. "I know it won't mean anything to you now, but I'll prove myself."
"An' why on earth would you do that?" Spike's scarred eyebrow hitched at the thought of the other Englishman daring to turn on Drake and by proxy Angel.
"I hate Angel" Wes said simply. He held up a hand, as Spike's mouth opened to ask the proverbial question of 'why'. "Just respect my decision and I'll respect your leadership."
Spike guffawed at that. "There's a great deal of difference between how I run things and that of the bloody Einstein twins…" He stood up and walked past Wesley to the door. "I'll accept your word for now, but prepared to prove it."
The room was set beautifully, a pair of lit candles providing the perfect touch to an elaborate dinner. The boy, Spike couldn't recall the weedy sod's name, had outdone himself. A long shower had given him time to get ready for the mental onslaught of Buffy's tongue. Not that she was a viper in the way Dru was, but something about her made Spike feel like he couldn't argue, like he was constantly the fool. But not tonight.
The other afternoon in the shower had made him realize that he wanted her and the feeling was foreign after all this time. Spike had been sure that hookers were the only women he could touch after Drusilla. He'd been happy to reduce intimacy to a physical transaction. But the chit stirred something in him. He hated her, had to because of her history and her sodding choices of lovers, but he also thought about her when not in a rage. And that was something new. Acting like a teenager and wanking away was not something that he usually enjoyed doing.
Spike was certain that he would bed her tonight.