Author's Chapter Notes:
So this update has been a long, long time in coming but it's finally here! And I'm hoping to regularly update in the future.

Sorry to have kept everyone hanging on that little cliffhanger for so long. There are some darker portions in this so please proceed with caution if you're easily offended.

I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. :)
Buffy struggled with all her might as the blond man kept a tight grip of her slight frame. He was deceptively strong, especially considering the fact that he smelled like he’d taken a bath in a tub filled with whiskey.

“You asshole!” she shrieked, bucking and biting at him. “I’ll kick your ass!”

“Hush that sweet little mouth, Princess, or I’ll find a better use for it than nattering,” he muttered into her ear as he pulled her forward.

Wisely, she snapped her mouth shut, but didn’t quit her struggles.

Unable to halt him, Buffy found herself dragged up the stairs and shoved roughly into a bedroom. She shivered with trepidation when she saw the blond lock the door behind them.

There was a chill in the atmosphere that made the place feel like a mausoleum. Momentarily she wondered whether this room would be her tomb.

The dim room was sparsely decorated with only a large bed in the middle of the room and a short chest of drawers under the window. On the black painted walls there were remnants of what looked like old posters that had been torn down at some point.

Spike thrust her against one of the black walls and ran a hand sensually down her side, bringing up goosebumps in his wake.

“Don’t touch me!” Buffy warned, pointing her finger at him.

Spike just laughed and gripped her wrist, pulling her flush against him. He slowly moved one large hand purposefully down her ribcage, halting on her hip. He drew an unintentional moan from Buffy before she realized what was happening.

“Stop me.” He whispered with a challenge thickly coating his words. “Come on, pet. If you want me to stop, then make me stop. Show me that fire.”

His voice lulled her into a kind of trance and for just a moment she allowed herself to become lost in the sensations that he was generating. The deep pools of his azure eyes pulled her in and she let her own aching eyes drift shut, giving up the fight.

After everything that had occurred in the past few days, feeling a gentle touch on her body was washing away some of the pain. In that split second it didn’t matter that he was Ethan’s son and therefore the progeny of Satan. All that counted was the feel of his fingers on her, like a fantasy that would have no repercussions.

However, this was as far from fantasy as things could get.

His hand slipped farther around to cup the curve of her ass, but the movement brought her slamming back to reality and she pushed him back violently.

“I will stop you. I won’t let you touch me you….evil thing!” Buffy hissed.

“Actually, the name’s Spike…”

“I don’t give a damn what your name is! I want to get out of here.”

“Not an option, love.” Spike slurred. “Apparently you belong to my Da. Which means you’re going nowhere. At least not until he’s done with you.”

“I’ll kill him,” she threatened. “And you too, if I have to.”

Spike’s eyes widened at how feisty this young girl was. She was just a slip of a thing but had more heart than most grown men he’d met. Such a tiny innocent child didn’t look like she could hurt anyone.

Just the thought of it made the laughter start to bubble up within him. It was like a tidal wave washing over his senses and he couldn’t contain it. Fuelled by several days of drinking, it spilled from his mouth and his hands dropped away from her, holding his stomach as torrents of laughter poured from deep within.

Buffy stared at him as if he’d totally gone insane and that only made him laugh even harder. He panted and wheezed as the giggles bubbled over the seam of his lips. It quickly morphed into hysteria but he couldn’t stop himself.

As she stared at him, Buffy wondered if she should hit him over the head and try to run but just the sight of him sent shivers down her. He’d clearly lost his mind and dealing with a psychotic, scarily strong man wasn’t on her list of sensible things to do.

But fortune favors the brave, right?

She was just about to launch herself at him with the aim of attacking when the laughter halted as abruptly as it had begun. The blonde followed his gaze and realized that he’d caught sight of something over her shoulder.

He shoved her roughly to the side and strode over to the chest of drawers where an oak picture frame was sitting atop it. He picked up the object forlornly and stared at it.

“Dru…” he mumbled sadly, not moving his eyes from the photograph.

Buffy peered at the picture from where she was standing frozen to the spot against the wall. She couldn’t make out the exact details but she could see a picture of what looked like Spike with a stunningly beautiful dark haired woman.

The brunette in the photo was attired in what seemed to be a dark crimson velvet dress, while Spike was dressed exactly the same as he was now.

Buffy suddenly became self conscious of her dirty clothes and matted hair on sight of the elegant woman in the frame.

“Who is she?” asked Buffy, wanting to break the silence. Silent-Spike was even scarier than attack-y-Spike. At least with attack-y-Spike you didn’t have to wait poised for his next move.

“None of your bloody business,” Spike bit out harshly. His voice was rough with the threat of impending tears.

“Okay,” sighed Buffy, moving over to the bed and slipping on to it. It felt good to rest her exhausted legs on the soft mattress. It was definitely better than the cold stone floor that had served as a bed for her the previous night.

Only moments later Spike whirled around and glared at Buffy. The blonde tensed under his critical gaze.

“You’re a woman,” he stated unnecessarily.

Buffy nodded. “Yes…”

“Well then tell me, pet. Why are women such faithless bitches that shag any sod they stumble across?”

“Excuse me? Faithless huh say what now?”

“Bitches! Bloody bitches. All you do is cheat and lie and shag around behind the backs of the men who love you.” His jaw muscle twitched as he spoke and the rest of his body vibrated with tension.

“Not all women are the same,” Buffy informed him with a frown. “Just because you clearly got cheated on and dumped by some ‘faithless bitch’ doesn’t mean you can act like super-asshole-man.”

His face turned red with fury as he digested her words and he stormed over to her. His strong arms pinned her to the bed, his face only inches away.

“Don’t you talk that away about her!” he spat threateningly. “You’re not a bloody patch on my Black Princess.”

Buffy coughed as whiskey fumes assailed her and turned her head to the side. “You just called her a ‘faithless bitch’, you nutball! I was repeating what you said. God, what is your freakin’ damage?” she yelled, trying to stay undaunted by the mixture of his proximity and volatility.

“She is a bitch,” he whined, his face softening. Spike sniffed sadly and rested his head on Buffy’s shoulder, sobbing silently. “But she was my bitch! I loved her so much. My Drusilla was my everything. She was my whole soddin’ world, Goldilocks. I’m nothing without her.”

“Sorry,” Buffy shrugged impotently, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Seeing Spike cry was the last thing she’d expected.

In all honestly it made him seem even more pathetic than he had before, but somehow she thought telling him that would go down as well as a strip show in a monastery.

“I would have done anything for her. But all she wanted was to shag bloody Angelus and God only knows who else.” He rose to his feet and picked the frame back up, stroking the image of Drusilla. “I just wanted to make you happy, love.”

The image didn’t respond to him, of course. But the fact that it was just a picture didn’t matter to the drunken man. It was like she was deriding him by ignoring him. Fury coiled and sprung in his veins once again and he growled like an incensed lion.

“Bloody women!” he yelled, hurling the frame against the wall.

Buffy covered her face with her hands as it shattered but Spike didn’t even seem aware that she was there. He was lost in his own rage. She could see the muscles tensing and flexing under the skin of his bare back.

He reminded her of the Incredible Hulk and she thought that he might turn green at any moment.

“I gave you everything, baby!” he sobbed, kneeling down to pick the damaged frame up and staring at the photograph. Drusilla just continued to stare back mockingly from the frame, a slight smirk on her lips. “Bloody bitch!”

The frame dropped from his fingers again and he slammed his boot down onto the delicate wood and the remnants of the glass. He ground it under his heavy heel with tortured venom. A barrage of incoherent insults tumbled from his lips.

“Bloody, soddin’, cheating bint! Oh God Dru! Why? Why did you do it?” He fell desperately to his knees and Buffy’s eyes widened exponentially at the sight. “I gave you everything, love and you left me for that bleeding nancy boy! Tell me why you did it!”

Buffy couldn’t help but think that he looked like a child having a tantrum as he kneeled on the ground, tears running down his face.

He was definitely a paradox. On the one hand he was a bad-ass dressed in leather, silver chains hanging from his neck, rings on every finger and peroxide hair. Yet on the flip side he was a weeping mess lamenting his ex-girlfriend’s unfaithfulness.

The teenager frowned, wondering if maybe he was actually nuts. He was definitely exhibiting signs of psychosis. Great! Not only did she end up with an evil mobster’s son but he had to be insane too.

This was just her luck!

After several minutes Spike finally wiped his eyes and struggled to his feet. The broken glass crunched underneath his boots as he walked over to the bed and sat down. Buffy curled into herself even more tightly when she saw his approach. Even though she knew it was impossible she wished she could make herself invisible.

The blond man looked drained though as he slumped down onto the bed. His shoulders were down.

He seemed…broken.

She could sympathize with that. Not that she had sympathy for the psychotic mobster spawn. But she saw a part of herself in him right now.

They’d both been betrayed by people they loved and now they were both lost souls.

Of course the one thing that separated them was the fact that she was a good person and he was unadulterated evil.

“I’ve always loved her,” he mumbled, seemingly to the thin air as he no longer appeared to notice Buffy’s presence. He was lost in the hell of his own internal pain. “Ever since the first time I saw her. She was so…beautiful and beguiling. My ripe wicked plum, she was. Always juicy and ready for the taking. Never understood what she saw in a git like me. I wasn’t worthy of this goddess. God, I’m so useless!”

Buffy licked her lips but remained silent as she listened to him talking. There was a soothing quality about his voice when he wasn’t yelling and cursing. Despite the roughness of his accent, his deep tones were somehow mesmerizing.

However, there was a point when Buffy couldn’t take anymore. And that moment occurred when she had to hear the ‘ripe plum’ story for the twentieth time in as many minutes.

She’d been told never to poke a sleeping dog when she was a little girl but something snapped inside of Buffy and a scoff tumbled from her lips.

“God, do you ever stop whining?” she hissed. “You think you got it so bad but you don’t even know what bad is!”

“Big words from a little girl,” he retorted threateningly, his head whipping around to face her.

“I’m not a kid, Captain Peroxide.” She almost laughed at his growl, her fear slipping away as she gained confidence. “I’ve been through a whole bunch of shitty things.”

“Really?” he scoffed.

“Yes, really.”

“Like what?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I…that is so not your business, Blondie!” She sighed and ran fingers through her dirty blonde locks. “If you wanna see hardship, just look at where I am now. Stuck with Psycho and Psycho Junior. So what if your girlfriend dumped you? It happens. Just stop acting like a big baby, suck it up and move on because no one wants to hear you whine and moan, like a broken shell of a man.”

His mouth gaped open at her words. Apart from Drusilla, no other woman had ever talked to Spike in that way. Most girls cowered from the bleached blond as soon as they found out that he was a Rayne, especially if they were his goddamn prisoner!

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to rip out her throat for her insolence or if he wanted to keep her forever thanks to her spirit.

One thing that he was sure of at that second was the fact that he needed to be inside of her. It was the sole thing that penetrated his whiskey-addled brain, like a primal instinct rising up in his blood and erasing all other rational thoughts.

Nothing turned Spike on like fighting…be it verbal sparring or an all out fist to fist duke out.

His swift, intense desire for Buffy cut through his pain and grief over Drusilla. Right now he craved the solace of her body, whether she was willing or not.

He lunged forward to where Buffy was sitting with her chin on her knees and grabbed at her. Instinctively she blocked him with her wiry arms and tried to slip away from him but he was stronger than she was despite his drunken state.

His mouth attacked hers relentlessly until she granted his tongue access. The blond tasted of booze and cigarettes. It should have been repulsive but he actually didn’t taste bad. And that thought restarted her struggles because thoughts like that were of the mentally insane and she wasn’t about to fall into that trap.

“Come on, pet,” he cajoled her, moving his lips to the curve of her jawbone. One of his hands was pushing her legs farther apart as he settled into the cradle of her thighs. “Open up for me. I know you want it.”

The soft, bare skin of his chest was rubbing against her, generating friction that made her body unconsciously respond even as her mind railed against what he was doing to her. She wasn’t a toy and she wouldn’t let this monster use her.

“No!” she cried, the earlier actions of his father rushing back to her memory. “Get off of me!”

The bulge of his cock poked into her flat stomach as he ground himself against her. Her wiggles didn’t exactly help matters and he swelled impossibly larger.

“Mmm. Just a little to the left there love.”

“You’re a pig!” she spat, still trying to buck him off.

“Now, now, let’s not get nasty here.” He smirked and nibbled on her neck eliciting a pained grimace from the girl. “I promise to make it good for you, Goldilocks. It won’t hurt a bit…unless you want it to.”

He reached into her damaged top, ripping it open where she had loosely retied the material, as his expert fingers sought out her cherry red nipples. One other arm banded tightly around her back before his other arm joined it, fixing her firmly in place. His lips were on her collarbone now and for a second she wondered if it would be easier to give in.

Easier to give up.

But Buffy was a fighter and she wasn’t prepared to let him take her that easily.

With some difficulty Buffy eventually managed to free her knee from where he was keeping it pinned under his own leg and bring it up sharply to his crotch, catching him smack in the most vulnerable area of his groin.

The blond’s entire body tensed as he roared out his pain. His eyes widened comically the moment that her bony knee connected with the delicate flesh of his family jewels.

“Bloody hell!” he shrieked, in the most unmanly way.

He glared down at Buffy and she felt a frisson of fear course through her. He looked like he was ready to throttle her to death.

And then the movement stopped. Spike suddenly went slack on top of her. She glanced up at his face and rapidly realized that he’d passed out, probably from a combination of the pain and the alcohol in his system. A small sigh of relief passed through her lips.

Maybe things were looking up.

Buffy endeavored to wiggle out from under his body but his arms were fixed too tightly around her abdomen to be able to free herself from his grasp. She exhaled in frustration and let her head fall back heavily against the mattress.

Okay maybe not so much with the looking uppage then.

She was trapped…in more ways than one.

Sure, she wasn’t getting raped right now, and moments ago that had been a definite possibility but she couldn’t see a way out of this. The young girl had never felt this vulnerable before. She was exposed and there was no way to cover up.

For the first time in her life Buffy Summers wasn’t sure that there was such a thing as hope anymore. It was like Pandora's Box had flung itself open, but this time nothing remained at the bottom.

Everything was bleak.

And she couldn’t see it getting better any time soon.

Chapter End Notes:
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