Chapter 19 – Rough Night

Opening her swollen eyes at the sound of the incessant ringing, Buffy glared at the phone for a moment. The last thing she remembered was crying.

For hours.

Realizing that she must have fallen asleep, she groggily sat up, reaching for the phone on her nightstand.

“Hello?”

 

“Buffy, it’s me.”

Hearing Giles’ voice ring out over the line, the sound of a loud engine muffling everything around him, Buffy sat up straighter, clutching the blanket to her chest as fear gripped her.

“Is it… is it done? Do you have him?”

“No. Something… something went wrong while we were up there. He obviously knew that something was different and… he didn’t try it, Buffy. Neither did Angelus.”

“So he’s… he’s been tipped off, we don’t know by who, and you don’t know where he is?” she asked, her voice reaching a frantic level as she scrambled out of bed, unable to sit still.

Listening to Giles confirm her suspicions, she paced through her bedroom, stopping to glance out of the window.

“We don’t really know where we stand, Buffy, but be on your guard. Even more so than normal, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, glancing around the room, listening to every creak of her old house, her overactive imagination putting a story behind each one of them.

“Good... I’ll contact you when we know more. For now, just proceed with caution.”

“I will,” she said softly, hanging up the phone, the soft beep echoing through the room.

Staying where she was for a few moments, she tried to collect her thoughts. Jumping at the sound of the soft knock against the front door, she turned toward the door to her bedroom, having a silent debate with herself.

“You’re being ridiculous, Agent Summers,” she hissed at herself, walking toward the door, grabbing her satin robe on the way and securing it around her nightgown as she walked down the stairs.

Not bothering to turn on any lights, she threw open the front door, her eyes widening when she saw Spike. 
 

“Hello, love,” he purred in a soothing tone, his voice practically caressing her overwrought nerves. Was his tone different? It sounded seductive, bordering on sinister, but she didn’t know if that was her imagination.

“You’re back,” she said with a slight smile, hugging her arms around her body and pulling her robe tighter.

“Didn’t take as long as I thought,” he replied in an unidentifiable voice. “Can I come in?”

Hearing a noticeable edge in his voice, she pasted a smile on her face, stepping aside to let him in.

“Sorry,” she said with a genuinely sheepish smile. “Knocking in the middle of the night, helpless girl- you know the drill.”

“You couldn’t be helpless if you tried,” he said, turning toward her with a smile.

Closing the door behind him, Buffy didn’t bother to look over her shoulder, knowing that she needed a moment to catch her breath.

“Still,” she said with a shrug, pretending to double-check the lock on the door before turning to face him. “Makes me nervous, this time of night.”

“Should I have called?” he asked, looking at her critically as he shrugged out of his coat.

“No,” she replied, shaking her head, practically feeling the tension crackling in the air.

Walking toward her, Buffy didn’t notice she was backing up until she was pressed against the door. Swallowing hard, she looked up at his face, tightening her jaw and silently yelling at herself for not turning on any lights. His eyes were layered in shadows, not letting her see anything.

“I guess we need to talk,” Buffy said softly, watching his distracted reaction.

“Mmm.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, biting her lip at the breathless whisper.

“Why would anything be wrong?” he whispered, his hand gently tracing the sash of her robe. Loosening it until it fell away, parting the material with his finger, he smiled when she closed her eyes.

Tentatively lowering his lips to hers, Spike slowly let his hands slide along the satin material covering her stomach. Smiling against her lips when she arched against his touch, one of his hands traveled upward, barely brushing the side of her breast, causing a tiny whimper to escape her lips as he continued higher. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he continued the gentle play of his lips on hers before putting his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her more forcefully to him.

Buffy was a mass of contradicting emotions. Her body was practically calling for Spike to take her, while her mind told her to get away and stay as far away as possible.

Was he testing her?

If he was, she was either passing or failing miserably.

Swallowing her soft moan, Spike pressed her into the door with more strength than he needed to. Seeing her confused look when she pulled away from him for a moment, he quickly lifted her into his arms, pressing his lips to hers for another passionate kiss that had her head spinning.

Buffy could feel his fingers gently skimming along her body, shivering when they brushed against the bare skin of her thigh before disappearing beneath her nightgown.

Spike smiled when he discovered she wasn’t wearing anything underneath, not hesitating to push two fingers inside of her, watching her with interest when her back arched and she cried out in painful pleasure.

Some part of her brain realized that she shouldn’t be doing this, but that part was firmly locked away in the back corner of her mind. Buffy nearly sobbed when he began pumping his fingers into her at a rapid pace.

“Spike,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut against the conflicting emotions, her fingernails clawing into his shoulders. “Too much.”

Not listening to her, Spike merely used his thumb, putting pressure on her clit until she was screaming in ecstasy, whimpering when his ministrations continued as she came down from her orgasm, leaving her over-sensitized and confused. Struggling against him for a brief moment, her hand grasped his wrist, trying to force him away from her body, unable to let her brain comprehend what was happening in her weakened state.

Breathing a sigh of relief when he stopped, Buffy let her head fall to his shoulder, moving her legs to stand again, surprised when Spike held her in place, turning to carry her up the stairs.

“Spike?” she whispered breathlessly, raising her head to look at him, seeing a mask of calmness on his features.  “What’s wrong?”

Not answering her, he entered her bedroom. Buffy watched as he lay her down on the bed, his hands immediately pushing the robe from her shoulders, watching it slide down her bronzed skin and settle on the comforter.

Forgetting everything that Giles had told her, she moved until the robe was successfully removed before reaching for the hem of her nightgown and dragging it over her head.

Spike watched, practically mesmerized as her body was exposed to his gaze, swallowing hard when she looked at him with eyes filled with lust and fear.

Running a hand through his hair, Spike exhaled heavily, obviously working through something as he turned away from her.

“Spike,” she murmured, biting her lip when he didn’t turn to face her. Breathing heavily to control her emotions, she slowly reached for her nightgown, battling the tears in her eyes. Jumping when she felt her wrist grabbed in an iron grip, Buffy looked up, seeing the confusion and desperation in Spike’s gaze as he stared at her.

‘Does he know?’ she wondered fearfully, swallowing hard as he searched her face. ‘No…no, he’s too calm to know. Something happened, something’s bothering him, but it’s not me…it can’t be.’

Letting go of her wrist, he stripped off his own clothes, pinning her to the bed with his body. Not making a move to take it any further, he continued to stare at her.

“You’re starting to scare me,” she whispered, trembling when he lowered his lips to hers in a gentle caress.

Puling away after a moment, he offered her a hesitant smile. “Sorry, love.”

Reaching up to trace the smooth lines in his face, she barely touched him, staring into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Who are you?”

Buffy immediately tensed beneath him, nearly yelling at herself for her stupidity. She was trained not to be jumpy when confronted with a question like that.

Of course the training didn’t occur when a hot, naked man was on top of her, but she still should have known better.

“I’m me,” she said softly, hoping to distract him from the brief tension that had flowed through her body. “Nobody but me.”

Closing her eyes, her lips parted when he pushed into her in one thrust, his hips meeting hers, surprising her with the brutality of the moment. She didn’t know what to do- she didn’t know if Spike knew who she really was and was trying to prove a point or if he was trying find out who she was through intimacy.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered, trembling when his hips began rocking against hers, sending thrills shooting through both of them.

“You,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck. “All of you…do I have you, Buffy?”

Thrusting against him, she bit his shoulder, muffling a cry of pleasure as he continued to move against her.

Pulling away from her, Spike stared into her eyes, breathing heavily as he looked at her, letting his fingers thread through her hair, waiting for her answer. Looking into her eyes, he clenched his jaw before jerking her head to the side, seeing her wince in pain before she reopened her eyes to look at him with indignation on her features.

“Answer me,” he said a little louder, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Do I have you?”

“You could,” she whispered, not willing to give him more than that.

Apparently not satisfied with the answer, Spike nearly growled, bending lower to viciously bite the sensitive flesh of her throat.

Buffy’s eyes widened in shock seconds before her climax spiraled through her body. Screaming as stars seemed to burst in front of her eyes, she breathed heavily, her hips still moving with his until she wasn’t sure whether she was in agony or ecstasy.

Gritting her teeth when he pulled away and everything seemed to come back to her, Buffy soon realized she’d had enough. Angrily shoving his chest, she briefly closed her eyes when she caught him by surprise, causing him to roll off of her and separate himself from her body. Moving before he had a chance, she grasped his wrists in a strong grip, pinning them above his head as she straddled his waist.

Feeling his cock gently moving against her entrance, seeking her out, she slowly rolled her hips until he was inside of her once again.

“Is this what you want?” she asked, letting her anger win out, still scared and unsure of what was happening between them. “Does this make you feel good, Spike?”

 

She could see the same confusion mirrored in his eyes. Letting go of his wrists, she tried to fight the tears in her eyes.

“Who do you want, Spike?”

“You,” he rasped, gripping her hips in a firm hold.

“Me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Do you want me…or am I just an available body?”

“You,” he repeated, a desperate note in his tone. Reaching up, he firmly grabbed her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“Who are you?” she whispered, feeling the tears stinging her eyes, wishing that he would tell her everything she wanted to know. Not just the truth. Everything.

“Yours,” he murmured, causing her to sit up, needing the distance in spite of the fact that they were still joined together.

“What do you want from m-me?” she asked in a shaky voice.

Sitting up, his arms banded around her body, pulling her as close to him as possible while he gently kissed her, running his hands along her back.

“Nothing,” he whispered, kissing the damaged skin of her throat, feeling remorse that he had caused that.

Moving more frantically against him, neither spoke, each getting lost in the feel of the other. Pulling Buffy close to him when she began trembling, he rhythmically pumped into her as her hips grinded against his.

“Come for me, love,” he whispered, feeling her hands grasp his shoulders, needing something to keep her grounded while she writhed on top of him.

Hearing the gasp that was ripped from her throat, he pulled back to watch her go over the edge, closing his eyes after a moment when her muscles clamped around him, causing him to pulse deep inside of her, clutching at her almost desperately.

Slowly coming down, Buffy gasped for air, trembling in his arms when he hesitantly lay down, pulling her with him.

Feeling the weight of what he’d just done, Spike closed his eyes, tangling a hand in her hair, trying to use her presence to keep calm. He could still feel her shaking against him, and it tore him apart to think that she might be scared of him.

Opening his mouth to speak, to apologize, to say anything, he stopped when he heard her soft voice.

“What happened, Spike?” she asked softly, unable to look into his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to distract himself, watching his hand glide along her skin. “I don’t know,” he whispered, seeing her uncertain gaze turn toward him. “Maybe I just wanted to prove that it was nothing,” he continued, his eyes widening when she sat up.

“You mean you wanted to prove that I was nothing,” she said, looking at him in disbelief.

“What? Buffy, no,” he said, shaking his head, breathing heavily when she swept her long hair away from her neck, showing him the ragged bite mark that he had just inflicted on her.

“Then what’s this?” she asked, tightening her lips when he avoided her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never meant to…”

Closing her eyes, Buffy rolled her shoulders, trying to work the tension out before coming to a decision. Slowly lowering her head back to his chest, she felt the sigh of relief that he exhaled, feeling her body against his once again.

“We’re okay?” he asked, looking at her with a hopeful expression.

“I think so,” she murmured, biting her lip as they lay in silence for a few more minutes, listening to the soft nighttime sounds coming from her window.

“Come over tomorrow night,” he whispered.

“What’s tomorrow?” she asked, feeling her breathing begin to return to normal as she ran her hand along his chest, cuddling closer to him.

“Business dinner,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Incredibly dull- I’ll be ready to relax with my girl when it’s over.”

Looking up into his eyes for a long moment, Buffy seemed to study him before hesitantly nodding.  “Okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes when he lowered his lips to hers, kissing her softly.

Chapter 20 – Boiling Point

Walking into the mansion the next night, Buffy nervously adjusted the straps of the long, black halter dress, insuring that they covered up the swollen area on her neck that Spike had inflicted on her the night before.

For the first time in weeks, she felt uncomfortable around him, and that made her more nervous than she cared to admit. The foreign feel of the gun strapped to her thigh, that had once seemed so familiar, was now a welcome distraction as she walked through the house.

“There she is,” Spike said with a bright smile, standing up to greet her, obviously putting on a show for the men who were sitting around the table. “Right on time, as always.”

Walking over to her, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, letting his hand brush along her back. “Buffy Summers, allow me to introduce you to some of my business associates. This is Robin Wood, Lindsey McDonald, Caleb Parson, Daniel Clement, called Clem, and of course you already know Gunn.”

Offering a polite hello to everyone in the room, Buffy allowed Spike to guide her to her seat, leaning over to brush another kiss to her cheek. “Beautiful dress,” he breathed, admiring her cleavage from his standpoint before straightening and taking a seat next to her.

Buffy remained unaffected by the looks she was generating from some of the men, trying to focus on why she was there in the first place.

Listening to the men chat about Spike’s company while dinner was served, she ate in silence. Turning around in surprise when the dishes were cleared less than an hour later and the doors were locked, she looked around the room in confusion.

“Alright, gentleman,” Spike said, leaning back in his chair when everyone was sitting at the table once more. “The focus is on O’Neill.”

Buffy’s eyes nearly shot over to look at him in shock before carefully hiding her surprise.   
 

“Anyone know where Hamilton is?” he asked, looking around the table.

“Angelus sent him to New York. Scouting something out there,” Lindsey said, idly playing with a pen as he looked Buffy up and down from his spot at the table.

Spike adjusted his tie as he stood up, slowly nodding. “Easy enough,” he said, picking up a large, flat object, wrapped in brown paper. “As you all know, I want him out of the picture. Easiest way to eliminate Hamilton is when he’s not around Angelus. So we need something that will ensure that… bait,” he continued, flipping open a switchblade and cutting the paper with ease, revealing a Renoir beneath.

A stolen Renoir.

Buffy closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as her emotions began to take over.

‘Stay cool, Summers,’ she told herself as Spike carelessly tossed the painting onto the table with a cold smile.

“I think that oughtta do it.”

* * * * *

Pacing through the large living room less than an hour later, Buffy tried to regulate her breathing. Spike had asked her to step out for a moment, needing to talk about something with his employees. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what they were discussing.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the antique mirror on the wall, she pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to work through the situation.

‘How did I get here?’ she asked, gritting her teeth as she looked at the door. ‘How could I possibly put myself in this situation?’

Needing to do something, her gaze turned to the locked cabinet in the corner of the room. Not thinking about her actions, she quickly crossed the room, pulling a bobby pin out of her hair as she knelt in front of the cabinet, easily picking the lock and opening the small door. Picking up the folder that was sitting inside, Buffy stood up, opening the file.

Seeing what she expected and never hoped to see, she briefly closed her eyes, only to reopen them and look at the papers and photos in front of her.

Surveillance pictures of her house- of her walking out to her car, fixing dinner, changing clothes. Buffy suddenly felt sick. Flipping through the file, she saw scribbled notes from Ethan Rayne, realizing his purpose in Spike’s life, and the nauseated feeling hit her full force. Covering her mouth with one hand, she continued to look through the file, seeing records and pictures from high school and college, phone records, receipts… her most intimate moments with Spike.

Her life.

Hearing the door open behind her, she slowly closed the file, never turning around as Spike’s footsteps could be heard walking through the room.

Looking up in time to see him standing behind the bar, pouring himself a drink, she felt rage flow through her. Walking over to him, she angrily threw the file down on the flat surface of the bar.

“Work, huh?” she asked, nearly shaking as her anger grew.

Hearing her voice, he slowly turned toward her, holding his glass so hard, he was surprised it didn’t shatter with the pressure.

“What did you expect, Buffy? That I would keep incriminating evidence in every corner of my home? Not bloody likely.”

“What was tonight?”

“A way for me to show you off,” he replied with a wicked smile.

“So, that’s what I am now, Spike?” she asked, every nerve on edge, her body practically exploding with tension. “Just the dirty little secret you keep on the side? Just your whore?”

“I never said that!” he yelled, throwing the glass in her direction, causing her to cower when it flew over her shoulder, shattering on the wall behind her.

So preoccupied with the glass, she never noticed when Spike crossed the room to throw her against he wall, pinning her against it, his body pressed intimately against hers.

“Don’t pretend that what we have is meaningless,” he said in a low whisper.

“What we have? You’re the one who’s been keeping surveillance on me twenty-four hours a day and doing background checks. You’re trying to tell me that I actually mean something to you?” she cried in disbelief, angrily shoving him away, sending him stumbling back several paces, giving Buffy the chance to get around him and move to the center of the room, needing the distance. “I’m nothing to you. You would sooner kill me than love me.”

“Is that a fact?” he asked in such a cold voice, she felt a sharp tremor of fear pass through her that she had never experienced when he took a menacing step forward. “Care to test that theory?”

Reflexively pulling her gun from beneath her dress, she leveled it on him with a cold glare, seeing the brief shock and surprise on his face.  Her eyes widened when he pulled a gun out with lightening quick speed, aiming it at her stomach.

Locked into a battle of wills, Buffy was the first to break.

“You’re not shooting to kill,” she said with a clenched jaw, never taking her eyes off his.

“Not yet,” he said in a deadly tone. “So tell me, love. What’s the plan?”

“Plan?” she asked, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves.

“The Feds. When are they planning to bust down my door?”

Feeling the air sucked out of her, Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Spike.  “You know?” she asked in disbelief.

“That you were sent to spy on me? Yeah, Goldilocks. Figured that out. What I can’t figure out is how far you were willing to go for the sake of your job. Was fucking me all part of your strive for a promotion?”

“Last night…”

“Yeah,” he said through clenched teeth. “I knew. Wanted to test you…wanted to see how far you would go in the name of your job,” he said, practically spitting out the words. “And guess what, pet? You go pretty damn far. I’ve seen whores who aren’t as good at their profession as you are. You missed your calling, lamb.”

 

“Don’t,” she said in a cold voice, trying to shut off her emotions.

“Don’t what?” Spike taunted, raising his eyebrows as he gave her a challenging look. “Don’t let you know the truth about yourself? That you sold yourself out for a nice badge?”

“It’s not like that,” she whispered, her resolve cracking as she looked at him, seeing the disbelief in his gaze.

“Then what was it like, Buffy?” he asked, noticing her eyes watching his gun as it slowly began moving higher, raising with his temper.

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Or maybe it’s that I would understand a little too well, is that it?”

 

Staying quiet, Buffy swallowed, her finger tightening on the trigger.

“Get out,” Spike growled.

“I can’t,” she whispered, staring into his eyes.

“Why’s that? You need to do your job? Or you want a goodbye fuck?”

“Spike…”

The sound of her own breathless voice nearly had her turning around to look for the foreign sound, not realizing that it was her.

“If that’s what you want, I can easily accommodate you,” he said in a degrading tone. “Up against the wall?” he asked, gesturing with the gun before leveling it on her again. “The chair? On the bar? Your choice, Buffy.”

“Don’t do this,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t demean what we-”

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he said in an even tone. “Unless you’re planning on leaving in a body-bag,” he growled, his gun now aiming at her chest.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Why stick around? You’re gonna kill me? Try it.”

Pressing her lips in a firm line, Buffy tried to ignore the doubt that was making itself known. She had never questioned her job or her duty in her years with the Bureau, and here she was with a gun trained on a man she was supposed to hate, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to pull that trigger.

“Let me tell you a little something about yourself, Agent Summers. You don’t know shit about me. You’re terrified to go against what you know might be right because it will endanger the life that you’ve painted for yourself.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” she said, clutching the gun in her hand.

“You know I don’t deserve whatever they’re planning,” Spike continued in a low voice. “You know it, Buffy.”

“You’re a murderer,” she said in a sharp whisper, clinging to the one fact that she knew to be true.

“And you aren’t?” he challenged, eyeing the gun that was trained on his heart.

“That’s different.”

“Why? Because you’re ordered to kill people and I’m the one who gives the orders? We go after the same people, Buffy, even if it’s for different reasons.”

Opening her mouth to reply, she quickly stopped, hearing the sound of Spike’s employees approaching.

Clenching his jaw for a moment, Spike risked a look to the door before looking at Buffy. Slowly lowering his gun, he kept a careful eye on her.  “Get out,” he whispered, seeing her falter for a moment.

“You know I can’t do that,” she said softly, shaking her head.

“Put down the gun,” he said in a commanding tone.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy briefly closed her eyes, gasping when she felt his hand encircle her wrist, twisting her arm at an angle until she was pulled against his body. Trembling when his lips gently brushed along her throat, she stayed still, trying to relax when the door opened.

Spike slowly raised his eyes to the door, glaring at the men as if they’d interrupted something completely different. “Out.”

“We just wanted to check on you, sir. We heard… something,” Gunn said, studying the two of them before his eyes settled on the shattered glass on the floor.

Carefully keeping the guns concealed from their view in the folds of Buffy’s dress, Spike raised an eyebrow at his men. “As you can see, we’re fine. Get out.”

Waiting until the door was firmly shut behind them, he jerked the gun out of her grasp, pushing Buffy away.

“That goes for you, as well,” he said with a cold look.

“Spike…”

“Get out,” he growled, narrowing his eyes on her as his hand tightened on the gun. “I won’t tell you again.”

Risking a glance at the door, Buffy hesitantly met his cold gaze. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, you know.”

“Thought it was supposed to be exactly like this, Agent.”

Bravely turning her back on him, Buffy walked toward the door, half-expecting a bullet in the back, mildly surprised when she reached for the doorknob without incident. Taking a deep breath, she glanced over her shoulder, seeing Spike standing in the same position, staring at the floor.

“Spike-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, never looking at her. “I don’t want to see you.”

Buffy looked at the floor for a moment before slowly nodding as she opened the door. “Then you won’t.”

Chapter 21 – Fragile Allusions

Sitting in the darkened room, Spike never looked up when a sliver of light slid along the floor as the door opened.

“Leave,” he said, his voice escaping the shadows and causing Ethan to pause as he entered the room.

“I know this isn’t the way you wanted-”

“Don’t need a bleedin’ pep talk, Ethan. Get out.”

“You’ve been locked in here for days.”

“And when I need something, I’ll let you know,” he growled, never turning around, waiting until the light was extinguished before taking another long drink from the bottle of alcohol in his hand, trying to stop the flood of memories. Trying to forget the image of her face. Trying to forget the feeling of his heart breaking when he found out who she really was.

“We found something,” Ethan said, nervously fidgeting with the folder in his hands.

“Found something on who?” Spike asked, walking into the hotel room, casting a quick glance at the view of the Philadelphia skyline.

“Your lover girl,” he said, raising his eyebrows as he tapped the file against his hand. “Or more accurately… her mother.”

Not wanting to look at the information, Spike walked over to the bar, pouring himself a tall drink. “Alright,” he said after taking a long swallow, never looking away from a point on the wall, listening to Ethan pull some papers out of the folder.

“Joyce Robertson, married once to Hank Summers, divorced seventeen years later. She had one daughter- Elizabeth Summers.”

Taking another drink, Spike finally turned to look at the man behind him. “So Buffy is a nickname,” he said with a shrug, feeling relieved that it wasn’t something more serious.

“Elizabeth Summers… she’s not an art dealer, Spike,” he said with a sigh, wishing that he could have relayed the information over the phone. “She’s an FBI agent.”

Shattering the crystal glass in his hand, Spike didn’t notice as the pieces fell to the floor, his gaze unfocused, his breathing shallow.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Ethan said, walking toward the door.

“Abort the plan,” Spike said, his voice a low whisper. “Get the plane ready.”

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea to go after a federal agent, Spike.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” 
 

Closing his eyes at the memories, he took a deep breath. Trying not to think about how he’d told her he loved her. How he confessed who he really was moments before he left for Philadelphia, only to have any fragile allusions of a dream with her shattered when Ethan showed up.

Angrily throwing his head back against his chair, he fought the tears in his eyes, hating the weak side that she seemed to bring out in him.

“Buffy…”

* * * * *

“Give me my next assignment, Giles,” she said, her voice coming out stronger than she intended as she followed her boss through the building, the tone of her voice causing him to turn around and look at her.

“You’re not ready,” he said before turning and walking into his office.

“Bullshit!” Buffy cried, following him through the door and slamming it behind her, knowing that she was walking on thin ice. “I’m ready. I’ve had a few days off and I’m fine. It was a glitch- all fixed now,” she finished, forcing a chipper tone.

“Buffy, you fell in love with a criminal. A criminal that we now don’t have enough hard evidence to arrest or even detain for a short period of time. You need a break.”

“It was a game,” she said, swallowing as she tried to convince herself of that fact. “It was all an act. I’m better now- I mean, look at me,” she continued, holding her arms out to her sides. “Betty's ready. Color me committed.”

Studying her for a minute, Giles finally sighed. “Alright,” he said in exasperation. “Xander and his team are working to take down Warren Meers in the near future.”

“The jewelry thief?”

“That’s him,” he said with a nod. “There will be an operation tomorrow night at the restaurant inside of the Sunnydale Museum.”

“But… he’s a jewelry thief,” Buffy repeated in confusion. “What does he want in a museum?”

“One of the largest diamonds in the country that is currently on display,” he replied, tossing a brochure in front of her that displayed the attraction.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said with a smirk. “He actually thinks he’s gonna swipe that thing?”

“He’s extremely cocky. With any luck, that will be his downfall.”

“Count me in,” Buffy said, walking toward the door.

“Buffy-”

“I’m doing this, Giles,” she said firmly, looking him in the eyes.

Closing the door behind her, she walked through the building until she reached the small office at the end of a hall. Knocking on it as she opened the door, she leaned against the doorframe. “Hey, Xand. Just thought I’d let you know that I’m helping tomorrow.”

“Already?” Xander asked in surprise. “I thought you’d want a little more time off.”

“I didn’t want any time off,” she corrected. “I’m ready for a little more hands-on action.”

“Can’t get much more ‘hands-on’ than Spike Reed,” he muttered, shuffling through some files on his desk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, a hard edge to her voice.

Looking up from the paper he was reading, Xander gave her a concerned look. “Nothing, Buff. Just meant that Spike has a violent reputation- you probably had your work cut out for you.”

“Spike never laid a hand on me, Xander,” she said in a low voice, looking at the floor, trying to forget the image of him pointing a gun at her. “What’s going on tomorrow?” she asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Everything is pretty much in place. Faith is going to act as… ‘bait’, if you will. You can go as her backup. If she has to blow her cover, for whatever reason, be ready to step in.”

“So basically I sit back and do nothing,” Buffy said with a sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

“Giles will be there,” Xander replied with a smile. “You can always talk to him.”

* * * * *

“Ethan!”

Practically stumbling out of the room later that night, Spike walked down the hall, blearily realizing that his head of security was standing in front of him.

“Where is she?”

“You’re not serious,” Ethan said in disbelief.

“Never been more serious, mate.”

“Spike, if you think you can just start a relationship with her or pick up where you left off…”

“Did I say I wanted her back?” he replied in a deadly tone. “Now… find out where she is.”

Chapter 22 – Dancing With Death

“Giles, I can be more useful,” Buffy mumbled into her radio. “I can do something.”

Hearing the slight crackle of her earpiece, she rolled her eyes when she heard her boss’ voice as he smiled at her from across the room. “Just stand there and look pretty.”

“I’m not scenery.”

“Tonight you are. Just remember that you were the one who wanted to tag along. This is Xander’s operation.”

Growing frustrated as she watched Xander and Anya on the dance floor, fulfilling their ‘undercover’ part of the mission, even though it looked like a regular date, she continued to scan the room.

Tapping her foot as she waited for Meers to arrive, her gaze slowly traveled back to Giles before her eyes widened in shock when she saw Ethan Rayne approaching her boss.

Reaching for her earpiece to let Giles know, she gasped when she felt the tiny piece of equipment pulled from her ear and watched it drop into an abandoned wine glass nearby.

“Those things can be hazardous to your health, lamb.”

Trying to suppress the shiver that raced through her body at the sound of his husky voice, she took in a sharp breath when she felt the blade of a knife pressing against her lower back.

“Not as hazardous as you are,” she replied, never turning around to look at him.

“I’m touched,” Spike said, chuckling quietly to himself. The laughter soon faded as he pressed the knife more firmly against her skin. “And I’d be careful what you say,” he said, his voice dropping to a menacing level.

“Or what?” she asked, still staring straight ahead.

“Or your boss has an unfortunate accident.”

Focusing her gaze on Ethan and Giles, she swallowed hard. “Giles can take care of himself.”

* * * * *

“What the hell are you doing here, Ethan?” Giles asked as the other man sat down.

“Keeping you in line, Ripper, old pal,” he replied, slapping him on the back. “Making sure you don’t interfere.”

“With what?” he growled, seeing Ethan’s gaze redirected across the large room.

* * * * *

“You know,” Spike said slowly, admiring the curve of her neck as he leaned closer to her. “I could have danced all night with you.”

“You think we’re dancing?” Buffy countered, never looking at him.

“That’s all we’ve ever done,” he replied with a smirk in his tone. “So, what do you say? Care to dance, pet?”

Her shoulders tensed at the question.

“Or what?” she asked, cutting her eyes over to see his profile right next to her.

“Do you really want to find out?”

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching them, she quickly spun around, gripping his wrist in her hand, twisting it until she had more control.

“Yeah,” she replied, looking him in the eyes for the first time since she left his house. “I would like to find out.”

Biting his lip as he watched her, Spike smiled, looking her up and down. “Care to show me what you’ve got?” he said, tossing the knife on a nearby table and wrapping his free arm around her waist.

“You think you can take me?” she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Moving her onto the dance floor, Spike’s expression faded away to leave one of cold indifference as they began dancing to the soft music. “Already had you.”

Setting her lips in a firm line, Buffy angrily kicked his shin, giving him an innocent smile when he winced and glared at her. Seeing an elderly couple give them a questioning look, she offered them a ditzy smile. “I’m such a klutz,” she giggled, seeing them smile in return.

Turning back to face Spike, Buffy narrowed her eyes when he pulled her more fully against him as they moved around the floor.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, watching him carefully.

“Finishing what you started.”

“What I started?” she said indignantly. “I’m not the thief and the murderer.”

“Just a murderer,” he replied, looking over her shoulder as he spun her around.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? Too exposing?”

“Spike,” she said in a warning tone, glaring at him. “I never asked you to come here. I gave you plenty of opportunities to walk away from me… long before you actually made me walk away.”

“Am I supposed to say ‘thank you’?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on her.

“Wouldn’t hurt,” she replied, raising an eyebrow as his expression darkened.

Keeping up with him as he led her around the floor, Spike separated long enough to spin her around, watching the royal blue silk of her dress flair out, only to settle around her legs once again.

“How long was it going to go on?” he asked angrily, unable to bring himself to look at her. “Until you arrested me? Or were you waiting to try and kill me?”

Pulling back to look at him with wide eyes, Buffy shook her head. “I never…”

“You weave this intricate plot and then abandon it,” he said in amusement as he changed the subject. “Must be awfully frustrating for your employer.”

“Who says we’ve abandoned it?” she asked, taking a small amount of pleasure in the way his eyes snapped over to hers.

Slowly smiling, Spike bit his lip, studying her as they continued to move around the dance floor. “So I can expect another sex-toy to be at my beck and call?”

“Spike… don’t,” she whispered, hating the emotions that were coursing through her. Rapidly blinking back the tears, she leveled him with a cold look. “You’re the one who said ‘I love you’ first.”

“You know how many times I’ve said that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as they paused, staring at each other. “Dozens.”

“Funny,” Buffy replied, gracefully keeping her balance when he spun her around, pulling her more forcefully against him in the process. “I was going to say the same thing.”

Seeing his jaw clench in response, she gave him a cold smile as he rapidly backed her up, wincing when her head cracked against the nearby wall. Glaring at him for a moment, she slowly looked over Spike’s shoulder. Seeing Giles readying himself for stepping in and handling Spike, she gave the older man a look, subtly shaking her head before turning her attention back to the man who was holding her.

“What next?” she asked, slamming the heel of her foot into his shoe, seeing him wince as she used her leverage to push him back, resuming the vicious dance. Gasping when he spun her around, Buffy felt her heart begin to race when his hand immediately grabbed her hip in a harsh grip, his other hand still holding onto hers as they danced with her back against his chest.

“Look at them,” he said, gesturing toward Ethan and Giles. “Are they really so different?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” she asked, clenching her jaw when his hold on her tightened.

“They’re the same as you and me,” he continued, thrown off balance when Buffy threw her elbow into his stomach and spun around, catching his hand and shoulder to continue the dance.

“What are you saying? I should set up my boss with your… whatever he is?” she asked with a slight smile. “Sorry, I wouldn’t subject anyone to Ethan.”

Ignoring the statement, Spike looked her up and down, admiring the skin that was exposed.

“Thought you were undercover, love,” he said, taking in the tiny straps and sweetheart neckline of her dress. “Shouldn’t you be a little more discreet?”

“Worked with you,” she replied, not looking away when his eyes narrowed.

“Maybe I like the flashier girls,” he said, keeping an indifferent expression on his face. “But only to see how good they are between the sheets.”

Gripping his shoulder until her fingernails were digging into the skin, she gave him a sweetly contradicting smile. “I guess that little tip could work in my favor, in the future.”

Realizing what she was saying, Spike glared at her for a moment, moving her around the floor. Seeing her look toward the doorway, he turned in time to see Warren Meers walk in with a woman on his arm. “And there’s the mark,” he said, turning back to her to see the shocked look on her face. “Tell me, pet… how many weapons do you have on you right now?”

“Why do you care?” she asked, seeing him smile slightly.

“That many?” he asked in amusement, slowing down with her and dipping her slightly. Buffy’s eyes widened when his lips brushed against her neck as his hand ghosted along her thigh, feeling the sheath for her gun. “One,” he whispered, seeing her clench her jaw when his hand moved high, outlining the case for the knife close to her hip. “Two,” he breathed, pulling her upright, moving her until she was pressed against his body, his mouth near her ear. “I’m guessing another gun on the other leg,” he whispered, still holding her close with one of his hands holding hers against his chest. “Anything else?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, finally relaxing slightly as she pulled away from him with a smirk. Taking a step back, Buffy glanced at Giles, seeing his gaze alternating between her and Meers. Turning back to Spike, she stared at him for a moment, seeing the indecision in his eyes. “You know what I was assigned to do,” she said softly. “I’m warning you, Spike… please don’t come near me again. You know who I am.”

Grabbing her hand, he spun her around, admiring her skirt as it flowed around her before pulling her against his body again. “And you’ve always known who I was. That didn’t change anything.”

“What do you want from me?” she whispered in a pleading tone.

Unable to answer her, Spike continued to look into her eyes, elegantly leading her around the dance floor.

* * * * *

“I don’t think it’s me you’ll have to worry about,” Ethan replied, gesturing to the dance floor where the handsome couple was now locked in a staring contest. Sparks seemed to shoot from them as their gazes burned into each other. “Seems your girl got a little too involved in her job.”

“Shut up, Ethan.”

* * * * *

“That's not your world,” Spike said in a husky whisper. “You belong in the shadows… with me.” The two of them continued to move in a more sensual dance as Spike continued, “Tell me… you don't love getting away with this…”

Visibly trembling as she pulled away from him, Buffy didn’t say anything as she turned and ran out of the building.

Chapter 23 – Fighting Back


Storming through the halls of the building on Monday morning, Buffy slammed the door behind her, leaving her stunned boss to stare at her as he paused from taking aim at the computerized images on the screen in front of him.

“I want Angelus.”

“Excuse me?” Giles asked, taking off his glasses to look at her as she walked forward and picked up one of the fake guns, taking aim at one of the targets.

“You heard me,” she replied, determined to put Spike Reed behind her, once and for all, as she pulled the trigger, hitting the computerized man directly in the heart, giving the screen a smug look as he fell over. “I want to go after Angelus. I was the original one on the case- I want to go.”

“Buffy-”

“Don’t try to talk me out of it, Giles. I couldn’t get Spike, and I couldn’t even help to bring in Meers the other night, but I will get Angelus.”

“I wasn’t going to try and talk you out of it,” Giles said, leaning against the wall as she looked over at him. “I know you, Buffy, and even though I think you need a little more of a break, you’re the best one for the job.”

“You were going to give me the case?” she asked, slightly stunned that they were on the same wavelength.

“There are a few conditions,” he continued.

“Okay…”

“You wear a live transmitter, we know where you are at all times, and you are always armed.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding as she turned back to the screen. Taking aim and hitting one of the men in the head, she could feel the adrenaline fading away from her grasp as she continued, “There’s only one little problem that I can’t work out.”

“Such as?”

“I know that I asked for this, and it’s not that I mind doing another undercover assignment, but what are the odds that Angelus and Spike…”

She trailed off, not knowing what to say about the subject since she was the one to bring it up in the first place.

“I know your concerns, Buffy, and I don’t think that they will be a problem. The two of them don’t exactly run in the same circles. But if you feel more comfortable with me assigning someone else to the case, it’s up to you.”

Looking down for a moment, she had a silent debate with herself, rolling her shoulders in irritation before raising the gun and firing at the animated targets.

Giles involuntarily winced when he saw that she hit the computerized man in the crotch.

“I’ll do it,” she said, nodding her head as she turned back to him. “Where is he?”

“Chicago… for the moment.”

“What’s the plan?”

“The same as the original,” Giles said, waiting until Buffy nodded before he walked away.

Slowly nodding, Buffy looked at her boss, taking a deep breath. “I can live with that… when do I leave?”

“How soon can you pack?”

* * * * *

“My flight’s in three hours,” Buffy said, using her shoulder to hold her phone to her ear while she threw a suitcase into the trunk of her car.

“Alright,” Giles said from the other end. “Everything is set up. There will be a colleague of mine who will meet you at your hotel. His name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce.”

“British?” she asked, walking into her house to get the rest of her luggage.

“Yes,” he replied, listening as Buffy chuckled into the phone.

“You know, with all of you British guys in the Bureau, you’d think Scotland Yard would be calling, wanting some of you to come home.”

“Very funny,” Giles said dryly. “Now, you have everything you need?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, picking up her carry-on bag.

“What’s wrong?”

“Giles, I… I don’t know how Spike found out about me. What if Angelus has the same good fortune?”

“Buffy, with any luck, Angelus will be locked up within a month.”

“Luck hasn’t been with me,” she muttered, taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Positive,” she said, forcing the appropriate amount of cheerfulness into her voice. “I better get going. I’ll talk to you when I land.”

“Alright… and Buffy?”

“Yeah, Giles?”

“Be careful.”

“You know me.”

“And that’s why I’m telling you.”

Smiling softly to herself, Buffy took a deep breath. “I can do this.”

“I know you can. Have a good trip.”

“Thanks, Giles.”

Closing the phone to disconnect the call, Buffy hoisted her carry-on higher onto her shoulder as she picked up the case with her laptop. Checking the house once more, she walked out of the front door, locking it behind her.

“Well, well.”

‘Oh God, not now.’

Turning toward the sound of the voice, Buffy visibly paled when she saw Spike standing behind her.

“What do you want now?” she asked through gritted teeth, unsure of why he was there. Their last interaction, he seemed ready to forgive and forget- or at the very least, turn her away from her career and toward more sinister goals.

“Can’t a bloke just stop by and say hello?” he replied, slowly walking up the steps of the porch.

Narrowing her eyes to look at him, Buffy was suddenly wishing that she hadn’t taken a late flight. The shadows of the porch covered both of them, keeping their expressions a secret.

“We’re not friends,” she muttered, pushing past him to walk to her car.

“Didn’t say we were.”

Giving little disregard to her bags, she threw them in her trunk, spinning around to face him, wishing that she could see his eyes as he followed her. “The last two times you’ve seen me, you’ve threatened to kill me or hurt someone I care about,” she said angrily. “And I’m supposed to think you just dropped by to chat?”

“Maybe,” he replied in an infuriatingly calm tone.

Slamming the trunk, she irritably pushed him away, reaching for the door handle. Gritting her teeth when his hand slammed against the door, preventing her from opening it, she spun around to face him. Feeling her stomach clench when he leaned in close to her, Buffy nearly closed her eyes, forgetting that she couldn’t trust him.

“I have to go,” she said in a strong voice.

“Where?”

Tilting her head to study him for a moment, Buffy narrowed her eyes. “Away from here.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Really?” she asked sarcastically. “Sounded like one to me.”

Shoving him back, Buffy was mildly surprised when she found herself pressed against the car.

“Let go of me,” she said, trying to shake his hands off of her arms.

“Is that really what you want?” he asked, giving her a cold smile.

Freeing one arm, Buffy quickly slammed her fist into his nose, sending him reeling back with the power of the punch. Looking at her in shock for a moment, his expression soon darkened before he backhanded her.

Letting the force of the blow guide her movements, she retaliated, kicking him in the knee. Standing up straight, Buffy glared at him, bringing her hand up to her jaw, gingerly touching it until she winced.

Realizing what happened, Spike’s eyes widened. “Buffy, I-”

“Don’t,” she interrupted in a hard voice. “Don’t even try to make excuses. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” she asked, breathing heavily. “What are you waiting for?”

Smashing her fist into his jaw, Buffy saw the shock on his face turn to anger.

“Fight back,” she said in a harsh whisper. Hitting him again, her voice rose, “Fight back!”

Slamming her against the car, Spike tried to control her as she wrestled her arms away, hitting him in the chest. Fighting the tears in her eyes, she continued her assault on him, punching his chest and arms until he was forced to move away.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, staring at her while she tried to catch her breath.

Looking at him for a long moment, Buffy didn’t say anything.

“Then give it to me,” he said, raising an eyebrow when she didn’t move. Advancing on her, he placed his hands on the car to each side of her. “Give it to me.”

Avoiding his eyes, Buffy turned away from his penetrating gaze.

“Do you miss me, Buffy?” Spike asked with a slight smile.

“If I say no, will you have me killed?” she replied, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

“If you say no, I won’t believe you.”

“Then why ask?”

“Curiosity,” he said after a moment.

“No,” she said, gritting her teeth around the word. “I don’t miss you. How could I? You’re beneath me.”

Seeing what she’d wanted all along, the sight of Spike’s features darkening was enough to send a tremor of fear through her.

Grabbing her shoulders in a harsh grip, Spike shook her, slamming her back against the car so hard that her teeth chattered.

“Beneath you,” he growled, thrusting his growing erection against her stomach as he swept the hair away from her neck, exposing the scar of his bite mark that remained before leaning close. “How ‘bout I get you beneath me?” he said in a menacing whisper, his lips closing over the scar.

Buffy struggled in his arms for a moment, and realizing that she was fighting a losing battle, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Bringing his lips to hers for a brutal kiss, she practically jumped into his arms, craving his touch.

Reaching between them after a moment, Buffy massaged the growing bulge in his pants, hearing him growl against her lips in response. Squeezing her eyes shut as if she was in pain, she slowly pulled away. “Can’t,” she said breathlessly. “Someone might see…”

“Let them see,” Spike said in a low voice, crushing his lips to hers again, reaching beneath her skirt and gently rubbing the damp material of her thong.

Breathing heavily, Buffy clutched at his shoulders, thrusting her hips against his hand, eagerly seeking his touch.

“Spike,” she whispered, becoming lightheaded as he unzipped his pants, brushing her thong out of the way.

Feeling him at her entrance, Buffy whimpered, dropping her head to his shoulder as she clung to him.

Pushing into her slowly, Spike carefully avoided any chance for eye contact, refusing to acknowledge who was in his arms. Neither made a move to kiss as they moved together, each staying detached from the moment.

Pumping into her until the car that she was pressed against was rocking back and forth, Spike’s hold tightened on her arms, nearly bruising her with the force he was holding her. Feeling her muscles clamp around him as she cried out, he followed her over the edge, pressing his forehead against the crook of her neck, squeezing her until she was whimpering in pain.

Quickly letting go, Spike eased her to the ground, unsure of what just happened between them as he looked away, trying to catch his breath.

Each straightened their clothes as an awkward silence settled over them.

Looking around for a moment, Buffy halfheartedly cleared her throat. “I… I need to go,” she said, her voice a strained whisper.

Spike’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her, feeling the need to dismiss her as easily as she was obviously dismissing him. “Fine with me, pet. Got what I wanted.”

Buffy fought the tears in her eyes as Spike turned and walked to his car that was parked in front of the house, never looking at her as he started the engine.

Looking at the ground, Buffy finally let a few tears spill free, quickly wiping them away. She never looked up to see Spike watching her before he drove away.

* * * * *

Standing in his office later that night, Spike stared unseeingly out of the window, hating himself for what he’d said to her and frustrated that he was having second thoughts of hurting a woman’s feelings who was assigned to arrest him.

“Are you alright?”

Turning his head slightly to see Ethan standing in the doorway, Spike stayed quiet as he took a drink of scotch.

“I know this girl was a challenge for you, but you need to move on.”

“What do they have planned for her, Ethan?” he asked, never looking up from his drink.

“Spike, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continually get involved-”

“Tell me!” he yelled, spinning around to face him.

“It’s not as if it’s an easy task, finding out what FBI agents are doing with their time on the job. The most I can tell you is that she’s scheduled to be at the Chicago art gallery that’s opening next weekend.”

Looking at Ethan for a long moment, Spike took a deep breath, trying to control himself as everything seemed to spin out of control. “The same opening that Angelus is scheduled for?”

“The one and only.”

Gritting his teeth as he looked at the floor, Spike slowly nodded. “Looks like we’re going to Chicago.”

 

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