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Author's Chapter Notes:
So sorry its took me this long to update, I've graduated from my undergraduate degree and am taking a year or two out before commiting to taking it further so in the meantime I'm looking for a job, and am also enjoying my freedom while I can so I've not been in the house a lot so had no time to edit this Chapter...but its all done now, hope you enjoy and I'll try to be better at updating in the future...



She must have drifted off, but she wasn’t sure when or for how long, so she had no idea what time it was. The dark, dank cellar gave nothing away and although there was light coming from somewhere, a window perhaps, she wasn’t facing it, and she couldn’t tell from the patches of light on the floor whether it was daylight or moonlight. She thanked God it was there though, because she was scared enough already, she couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if he’d left her in the dark. She’d always been afraid of the dark, ever since she was a little girl.

Memories of her childhood suddenly flashed before her eyes, and a tear slipped down her face when she reflected on the fact that no one would miss her. After all she didn’t have any family anymore, and she’d cut most of her friends out of her life after her mom passed away and she’d moved here to college. Would anyone even notice she’d gone? Another tear fell from the same eye, rolled down her face to join the other, and then ran down to her lips. She tasted the bitter saltiness and took a deep breath to calm herself, just in time to hear the door above her open.

Spike came down soon after, this time he didn’t hesitate or warn her to be quiet. It might have just been that he was confident she wouldn’t scream, but at the same time it seemed like there was something wrong with him, and he didn’t speak or even acknowledge her as he squatted down in front of her chair, balancing on his toes.

Before he did anything he reached into his back pocket and took out a few strips of blue material. They looked like a torn up shirt, and that’s probably exactly what they were. He placed one strip underneath the arm of the chair, tied it above Buffy’s forearm and knotted it twice. It wasn’t tight enough or harsh enough like the shoelaces had been to cut into her skin, but she could tell without trying that she wouldn’t be able to get free from it. He did the same to the other arm and when he seemed satisfied he loosened the shoelace tie on her right wrist.

Buffy winced at the sting, when he took the lace off her sore skin protested, resisting the separation, almost attaching itself to the binding.

This time unlike the time before he didn’t apologise, but he wasn’t rough with her, and part of her thought that meant that he was sorry, but he was just tired of saying it. It was a bit wrong after all, to kidnap someone and then repeatedly apologise for it.

He untied the other wrist and then shifted on his feet a bit to lean back, so that he could reach into the tight front pocket of his jeans. From the pocket emerged a tube of some sort of cream, recalling his earlier promise Buffy presumed he’d been to the drug store while she was out of it and picked up some antiseptic.

He twisted off the cap, put a tiny amount of cream on his finger and spread it around her wound. She hissed at the cold sensation and the sting of the sore, it was only a sensitive friction burn, but it hurt like hell.

As he continued Buffy felt more and more uncomfortable, and again she felt like she needed instructions on how to act. Searching for something to break the tension she decided to speak, mostly out of a need for conversation, but also because she wanted to make more sense of him, “So your name’s Spike?” she asked to try and get him to end the silence.

He paused for a second, but then squeezed the tube for more cream and continued. “Sort of…Guess there’s no point in me denying it now.” he said “So you get that one for free.”

“What’s your second name?” she ventured.

She saw him smirk wildly and almost chuckle, “That one’ll cost you.” he said smoothly. But Buffy didn’t like the suggestion, knowing it probably would cost her. She then noticed his hands had left hers and saw him returning the cap lid to the tube. “I’m not a doctor,” he said as he stood up, “so that’ll have to do. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

That was pretty obvious, she thought. Although he did everything carefully and precisely he didn’t seem comfortable with her being there, like he wanted her to be gone because he didn’t know what to do with her. The idea that he wanted rid of her was one of the thoughts Buffy hated dwelling on most of all. As much as she wanted to leave she wanted him to let her go, not get rid of her. That could mean a million other things she didn’t want to think about.

He gazed down at her and that was the first time since he’d come down the stairs that he’d looked at her properly. He noticed her wet cheek. “You bin crying?” he asked in his thick English accent.

Buffy said nothing and looked away from him.

“Shit.” he mumbled turning his head to the side. He seemed to be trying to think what to do, but then all he did was turn as if to leave and she panicked.

“I need to go to the bathroom!” she suddenly blurted out.

He turned around shocked, and she could tell she’d gotten him again with something he hadn’t yet considered.

He bit his lip and like earlier seemed to pause for thought. Then he leaned down over her and took a longer piece of material from his back pocket. He untied her arms one at a time and held them together in front of her. He tied them together at the wrist, trying not to agitate her sores and then he moved back slightly.

“You make one wrong move.” he warned, leaving the threat open, as if he knew that Buffy had such an overactive imagination that it was the scariest thing he could do to leave her guessing the consequences.

He bent down and untied her ankles, and the next thing she knew she was slung across his shoulder and he was striding up the stairs as if she weighed nothing. As soon as she was out of the cellar her captive brain took over; she ignored the décor, the homely touches of the house that could give her a clue to Spike’s character. Her brain was focused only on escape from the minute she’d come out of the dark, and all that she was making a note of was the layout of the house. She saw the back door to her right as he carried her up another flight of stairs. Then he took her round a corner and to the left, and dropped her down on what she realised was a toilet in a moderately sized bathroom.

He leaned forward, untied and took the material from her hands and before she could even register the feeling of being free he was gone and had closed the door behind him.

Buffy just sat there for a long time. She shuffled around to make it sound like she was doing something, and then looking to her right she saw the sink. Without even having to think too much about it she reached out and turned on the tap. With that she stood up, knowing she’d given herself some time, but not much.

She took some deep breaths and tried to scan the room and think. When nothing came to her she became aware that minutes had passed and the tap was still running, so she went over to the sink and turned it off.

“Buffy?”

She heard Spike’s voice calling to her from the other side of the door. There was no way out of the bathroom, no conjoining room, no other exit, and the only part of the window that she could see which would open was a small part at the top that she could never fit through.

“Buffy?!” he called again, this time with a louder tone, one which almost frightened her.

That’s when it came to her; Spike, he was her way out. Or more specifically he was the only thing standing between her and her way out, not these four walls. If he wasn’t there nothing could stop her, she’d just need to run. So how was she supposed to get rid of him?

“I’ll just be a minute!” she cried pulling the flush on the toilet and then frantically looking around for anything she could use against him. She stopped dead when she saw the shelf to the left of the bathroom door. Right in the centre was a large ceramic vase. It was black with a white pattern, and had several fresh lilies in it. Perfect.

“Okay!” she cried stepping quietly towards the shelf and lifting the vase from where it sat. She stayed there behind the door and waited for him to enter. It seemed like everything was going in slow motion, yet her heart was beating twice as fast as it normal did. She swallowed hard as if to steady herself and raised the vase a little higher. As soon as she saw him she squeezed her eyes shut and swung her arms down, she knew she’d hit him when she felt the vase smash within her hands. She opened her eyes to see him on his knees on the floor, clutching the back of his head with his left hand.

There was so much blood it shocked her still for a moment, but when she saw him blindly crawling towards the sink, seeking out anything to hold onto to keep himself from falling flat on his face, she knew she’d succeeded in really hurting him and that gave her hope that she could actually get out of here before he came round properly from the blow.

With the doorway now clear she took her chance and ran, she remembered the layout from earlier and ran straight for the back door. Not knowing how to get to the front of the house she didn’t risk wasting precious time in searching for it. She knew the back gate of the garden was probably locked, but she’d climb over it if she had too, and at least she knew where it led.

Reaching the back door she felt the adrenaline rushing through her system, she’d not only bested her kidnapper, but she was so close to getting away that she could almost see her freedom. She hadn’t had fresh air for over a day and the bitterly cold wind that blew onto her face was the first thing she felt as she left the house, taking the three back steps all at once, making it across the patio and finally onto the garden.

It was raining hard, but Buffy didn’t even seem to notice how grey everything was or how cold it was, all she noticed was how difficult it was to see with the rain lashing down in front of her face, and how uncomfortable it was to run when her clothes soaked through and stuck to her skin. She didn’t think about how long it had been raining, that it had probably been pouring down relentlessly all day. That was until the ground beneath her became an obstacle and she slipped, crashing down to her knees into the muddy earth of the garden. She landed with a thud and placed her hands out to cushion her fall, but it did little except keep her upright.

She took a moment to calm herself as the pain of her fall vibrated through her knees and up her thighs, but then she realised she didn’t have a moment to spare. She moaned as she rose up to her feet, her hands trying to find purchase even though they were caked in slippery mud themselves.

She saw the gate at the other end of the garden and was about to run towards it again when she was grabbed from behind.

“Miss me, Princess?” Spike panted harshly into her ear.

She struggled, kicked and grabbed his arms to try and push them off her, but he wasn’t budging. She could feel his chest rise and fall violently, either he was really pissed or he was still reeling from the effects of the vase. His clothes were heavy and wet just like hers and they stuck to her body where her skin was bare, as if everything was weighing her down into him.

After what she’d done to him upstairs he relished the sight of her; her hands and legs covered in mud, her hair wet and messy, and her top cold, and see-through, and clinging uncomfortably to her. He could feel the rain beating down on both of them, but all it did to him was sooth his aching head wound and make him feel safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t get far.

“Let me go!” she screamed as she fought with him. His arms came up just below her chin and she saw her chance, lowering her head she bit into his forearm as hard as she could and he groaned in pain and let go of her for a second.

A second was all she needed and again she made to run when he came towards her once more. He grabbed onto her left arm, but as he reached for the other she turned the right side of her body away. He stepped forward to catch her and lost his footing. He fell backwards awkwardly and Buffy followed him down landing sideways on top of him.

She tried to get up but he still had hold of her arm and he yanked it back viciously. Purely out of instinct she turned around and lashed out at him, before crawling away on her hands and knees.

Spike immediately recoiled and his hand flew to his cheek to feel it wet with blood now as well as rain. “You little bitch!” he growled suddenly climbing to his knees and reaching forward for her ankles. He heaved her towards him with such force that she yelped at the pressure on her joints. She was suddenly underneath him and he was pinning her shoulders down. Her face was almost pressed directly into the mud and she could hardly breathe.

“Stop.” he cried as she wriggled underneath him.

She didn’t stop.

“STOP!!!” he growled dangerously.

And then she did, straight away.

His voice had made her stomach flip fiercely; she was more terrified than she had been when he’d placed that gun to her throat for the first time.

He crawled further up her body, sliding against her, and she could still feel his chest heaving, the rhythm of it matched hers as she panted harshly, exhausted by the fight. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours, him stretched out on top of her, as the rain continued to fall.

Occasionally she would make a movement and he would press into her slightly, just to let her know he was still aware of her. After a while though he did move off her and he carried her inside. She was almost becoming used to him carrying her everywhere, and he was almost used to having her in his arms.

When they got inside he bypassed the kitchen and went into the living room, a room she’d not seen before. He dropped her down in the centre of it.

“Strip.” he said calmly.


* * * * *




Chapter End Notes:
Thanx for reading and hope everyone liked it, this Chapter adds some more momentum to the story I think...got a friend's birthday coming up at the weekend and other things so won't be updating again until next week (but at least I've warned you this time!) Sorry again!



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