Chapter Fifty Four.

Russian Roulette.


Marco Firelli didn’t look old enough to be thinking about retiring. He looked too young. He had classic Latin-lover looks with smoldering brown eyes and crisp black hair that was just beginning to show the first signs of gray at his temples. His suit was Italian, in a shade of such dark blue it almost looked black. The jacket hung perfectly across his impressive broad shoulders, lending his tall lean frame a very pleasing appearance. His shoes were hand made in London and his watch was commissioned in Switzerland. A master watchmaker had taken over a year to perfect the singular timepiece, and it did nothing more fancy than tell the time, but it was worth a small country.


Buffy didn’t like him. She decided he had the soft over pampered look of the truly, filthy rich. A look she found very unappealing.


“Spike, I’m glad you could make it…Masters said you might make an appearance.” Marco greeted him with a cool smile and a firm handshake.


Spike nodded and made a polite reply.


Marco scrutinized Buffy. “Won’t you introduce me to your…er…companion?” he asked Spike.


Spike willed Buffy to relax. He could feel her tension flowing through the hand that rested in the crook of his arm. He glanced at her blankly. “Yeah, sure…this is Buffy Summers,” he told his host rather shortly.


Buffy noticed he didn’t attempt to return the introduction.


She tensed when Marco captured her free hand and placed a brief kiss on the back. He smiled softly and looked at Spike. “Congratulations Spike…she’s lovely,” he murmured.


Spike gazed around the room full of elegant people, an expression of boredom on his face. “If you say so,” he replied.


Marco chuckled. He was still holding Buffy’s hand, gently caressing her knuckles with a soft touch.


“Lindsey’s has a suite ready for you…I hope you’ll make use of it and see the party through to the end.”


Spike looked at him. “No can do Marco…I’ve got to get back to LA tonight…I’ve got my own reception to organize.”


“Yes, Masters told me you were planning something.”


Spike wasn’t surprised Masters had told Marco about the reception…they were friends after all. “Did he now?” Spike said dryly.


“And I believe Buffy…I can call her Buffy…can’t I?” Marco asked, a half smile decorating his face.


Not trusting himself to speak, Spike inclined his head. He wanted to slam his fist into the other man’s face.


“I believe Buffy’s been helping you with that.”


“She’s played her part.”


“And will you allow her to play this evening?” Marco smiled at Spike and caressed Buffy’s hand.


Buffy practically shrank back nearly pulling her hand from Marco’s light grip.


Spike gave Buffy a measuring gaze. “Only with me…I’m not bored with her yet.”


Marco chuckled. “I understand…it’s hard to part with such a pretty new toy.”


Spike arched a cool brow at him, before pointedly allowing his gaze to slip to the hand still holding Buffy’s. Smiling, Marco coolly met Spike’s frosty look before releasing Buffy’s hand.


Another couple of guests drew near, saving Spike from having to make a reply. He made a polite comment and guided Buffy away from the new arrivals as they gushed and fawned over Marco.


Spike squeezed the trembling hand resting on his arm and whispered a one-word apology, before untangling her and placing a guiding hand at her back. He steered them towards the bar, where he ordered himself a drink, but didn’t bother to offer Buffy one.


Glancing about the room, he shoved off from the bar and made his way towards a group of men, telling Buffy to stay close. The conversation died down to a rumbled murmur when they first joined the group. Spike caught Buffy’s wrist and pulled her to his side when she awkwardly hovered at the edge of the circle. For his part, Spike pretty much ignored her, occasionally he’d brush up against her but not once did he speak to her or look at her directly and he didn’t attempt to make any introductions.


This was the first time since their visit to Glory’s that Buffy had had the chance to observe Spike in an environment not his own. Oddly, she wasn’t that surprised to see so many of these people treat him with a civilized deference…even though many of them were a lot older than him.


The conversation was all business and it wasn’t long before Buffy’s attention started to drift. She couldn’t understand why Spike had made such a fuss about how dangerous being here was going to be. These men seemed as harmless as a group of public school boys…but as soon as she made that comparison, she remembered reading the book ‘The Lord of the Flies’ in high school. A tale about a group of school boys marooned on a deserted island, who in a very short space of time, deteriorated from the wholesome models of society, where the normal restraints of order swiftly turned to all out anarchy bringing them to the very brink of cannibalism before their timely rescue. Buffy shivered. Spike glanced at her from the corner of his eye.


Buffy sensed she was being watched and turned her head to see who was looking at her. Her gaze clashed with two sets of unfriendly eyes. She guessed right away these were the people Spike had warned her about. Bravely, she met their stares, taking in their appearances. The man was of a similar height as Spike, maybe a little smaller but built heavier…Stocky, Buffy thought. He had dull brown hair and pale eyes. His suit was the best that money could buy and like all the other men in the room, he wore it with a self-assurance that oozed from his confident posture. The woman reminded Buffy of Tonya Hastings…tall and slim with a good figure, only not as pretty. Buffy didn’t like the look of either of them and was relieved when they moved out of her line of sight.


She turned her attention back to the group she was with and met Spike’s unreadable expression. A few moments later, the group began to disperse and they found themselves on their own once more.


Spike faced her and keeping his voice low said, “I’ll mingle a bit more ‘ere, then I think we might escape downstairs to the casino…‘ave you ever been in a casino before?” he asked her.


Buffy shook her head. “No…but won’t it look odd if you leave the party?”


Spike gave her a pained smile. “This isn’t the party Buffy…this is jus’ the greetin’ area…the party’s upstairs,” he informed her.


“Oh…!” Buffy looked around her, noticing that while the room had been comfortably crowded when they arrived, it now seemed less than half full. She watched small groups of people breakaway from one another as they made their way to a private elevator, on the other side of the room. “Well won’t it look odd if you don’t go upstairs…surely–” She broke off when Spike cursed under his breath, scowling at something over her shoulder. She glanced behind her and saw the couple who had been staring at her earlier, heading in their direction.


As they drew near, she noticed their ‘too sweet to be true’ smiles, which unnerved her completely.


“Not thinking of slipping away I hope Spike?” The man said.


“Not slippin’ away Lindsey…but I was contemplatin’ tryin’ my luck at the tables…it’s been months since I had the chance to ‘ave a flutter,” Spike replied dryly.


The woman smiled with all the charm of a snake. “Well you’re in luck…Marco’s laid on a private gaming room upstairs…you’ll be able to have a flutter there.”


“Well no one could accuse Marco of not knowin’ how to throw a party,” Spike said, with false cheer. He was cursing his rotten luck. He’d hoped to use the excuse of a desire to play the tables as a way of avoiding the main party, but now he was trapped and couldn’t possibly take back his words.


“Shall we go up now?” Lindsey asked.


Taking Buffy’s hand, Spike nodded and followed the other couple to the elevator.


Not knowing what to expect, Buffy remained alert at his side.


Once they were inside the elevator, Lindsey turned to Spike and asked him to introduce them to Buffy.


Spike gave him a telling look. “I’m sure you already know who she is…but if you want to make a song and dance about it…” He shrugged his shoulders and pulled Buffy to stand in front of him. “Buffy, pet…” he said at her ear. “This ‘ere is Lindsey McDonald and Lilah Morgan…they work for Masters.” He looked at the other two. “And this is Buffy Summers…and she’s mine…so don’t either of you get any fuckin’ ideas.” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but since the four of them were alone, he went with his gut and spoke his mind.


Lilah smiled in a manner Spike felt sure was supposed to be innocent and Lindsey just shrugged. Spike hadn’t missed the hungry looks they’d been directing at Buffy when they thought he wasn’t looking.


“So let me make it perfectly clear…she’s my girl…” he pulled Buffy in close, hugging her to him and splaying his hand possessively over her stomach. Buffy held passively in his embrace. Spike leaned in to whisper at her ear, loud enough for the others to hear, “Isn’t that right pet…you’re my girl?”


Buffy turned her head slightly towards him so she wouldn’t have to see the naked expressions of the other couples’ faces. “Yes,” she whispered.


Spike smiled smugly at Lindsey and Lilah before giving Buffy another small hug and releasing her.


The doors dinged open and Spike cursed softly as he got his first look at the so called ‘party’.


Buffy gasped. She couldn’t believe her eyes and ears. And, WHAT is that smell? She questioned, wrinkling her nose. Then it occurred to her what it was. Loud music blared from a hidden sound system. There was a sickly-sweet smell of pot hanging heavy in the air. Grimacing, she blinked and looked around. The function room was vast, yet filled with well-dressed people. She glanced to one side and wide-eyed, stared at the line of people openly snorting coke from a long, narrow glass counter. There were groups of people scattered about the room, some just standing in small clusters doing nothing more sinister than talking…other were smoking pot, clouds of the drug drenched emissions floating above their heads, polluting the already heavy atmosphere. A topless waitress was serving drinks to a pair of old men, who were unabashedly fondling her.


Shocked, Buffy turned her gaze away from the embarrassing scene only to see a couple having sex on a small couch. She had to do a double-take, thinking she must be mistaken or maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her in the dim light but she wasn’t wrong…they were definitely having sex. Buffy could feel her face burning and now that she was looking, she could see they weren’t the only ones having sex. There were people scattered all over the room in different stages of undress…all having sex and just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she noticed a young woman off to one side having loud sex with two men. The trio had an audience of about ten spectators…they were all clapping and jeering encouragement, in appreciation of the floorshow. Buffy thought she was going to go up in flames. Mortified, she hung her head and closed her eyes.


“Well, no prizes for guessin’ who organized this little retirement do,” Spike said dryly. The orgy was in full swing.


Lilah shrugged her shoulders. “It was what Marco wanted…” She looked at Buffy and smirked. “Though it doesn’t seem to be your little pet’s thing,” she said slyly.


Lindsey chuckled, enjoying Buffy’s obvious embarrassment.


Spike looked at Buffy. She was blushing profusely. Her head was bowed so low her hair nearly obscured her entire face and her eyes were tightly closed. “Yeah…well, she’s not the only one…it’s not my kind of thing either…where’s the gamin’ room?” he snapped.


Still chuckling, Lindsey pointed to a set of double doors at the furthest end of the room.


Fuck. Spike groaned at the thoughts of having to traverse the entire length of the orgy to reach the gaming room. He prayed that room would be better than this one. Not that there was any way of knowing, but it was a risk he was willing to take. He had to get Buffy out of here.


Still gripping her wrist lightly, he turned to her. “Buffy open your eyes…” She turned her head slightly towards him but kept her eyes closed. “I’m going into the next room…and if you fall flat on your ass, I’m not pickin’ you up…so open your bloody eyes and watch where you’re puttin’ your feet,” he snapped.


Buffy opened her eyes and was grateful to see Spike had placed himself directly in front of her. The thoughts of tripping and drawing unwanted attention to herself in front of these people, made her nauseous. She pushed down on her embarrassment and nodded.


Her blush was at full throttle and Spike guessed it wouldn’t begin to calm down until she was no longer exposed to the sights going on around her. “Good…now c’mon,” he said. Tucking her behind him as best he could, he led the way to the gaming room.


Buffy kept her head down in pretense of needing to watch where she placed her feet in the crowded room, but she couldn’t help her eyes from wandering around her as she followed Spike. The room was filled with acts of debauchery…and her face grew hotter each time her eyes encountered something new. Everywhere she looked she witnessed acts she never thought she’d see. The whole thing was embarrassing…alarming and down right dirty.


Just before he reached the gaming room door, Lindsey cut Spike off. “What’s the rush Spike? The tables will still be there in an hour from now…and I got the impression from Masters he wouldn’t be pleased if his friends didn’t get the chance to meet Buffy. He implied it was the whole point of you being here,” Lindsey said.


Spike was furious. He pushed Lindsey aside and opened the door to the gaming room. It didn’t look too bad, though the waitresses were damn near naked, but at least there weren’t any overt acts of sex going on in the corners or on the plush couches that lined the room.


“Buffy goes where I go…and I’m going to play the tables…so if anyone wants to meet her they can jus’ bloody well come in ‘ere to do it,” he barked irritably.


He strode further into the room, tugging Buffy with him. There were a comfortable number of people scattered around the room, some playing the various tables, others just cruising and watching the action. Spike fixed his sights on a Black Jack table.


“Well maybe you’ll change your mind and–”


“I doubt it,” he bit back.


Lindsey could see Spike had made up his mind. “Here then…compliments of Marco…he wants his guests to enjoy themselves,” Lindsey handed Spike a very generous tray of chips. “Would Buffy care to try her luck too?”


Spike shook his head, declining the tray of chips offered to Buffy. He didn’t want these two reporting back to Masters that he was pampering her is anyway.


“She’s not ‘ere to be entertained.”


Before Buffy realized what was happening, Lilah was pressing a disc into her hand. “Well you might at least let her play the ladies only game,” she said.


Spike plucked the single chip from Buffy’s fingers and scowled at Lilah. “What game?” he demanded.


Lilah gave him one of her smiles. “Oh, just a little game of roulette that Marco devised for the ladies,” she informed him.


Spike glanced at the chip. He flipped it over. It was the same on both sides. “Why’s it blank…? If it’s for a game of roulette, shouldn’t it ‘ave a figure stamped on it?” he questioned.


“It’s blank because the ladies won’t be playing for money,” Lilah said.


Lindsey looked at Buffy and explained. “All you have to do is pick a number and place your chip on it…and if your number comes up, you’ll win a prize.” He turned his gaze to Spike. “The prize list is really good…Marco made it up himself and the ladies get the chance to win some pretty impressive jewels and designer gowns…there’s even an all expenses paid trip to Paris, up for grabs.”


Spike stared at the blank chip. He didn’t like it. He smelled a trick, but damned if he could figure out what it was.


“It’s really just a novel way of giving the ladies party favors,” Lilah added.


Spike stuck the chip into his hip pocket. “Right…and what’d the blokes get?” He wanted to know.


Lilah smiled sweetly. “I’d have thought there was enough going on in the various rooms to keep the men happy…but if you feel the evening’s lacking in some way…well, I’m sure between the two of us we could think of–”


Spike halted her. “I seem to remember you offerin’ me somethin’ similar the last time we met…and I know I remember refusin’…and I can’t say time has made the offer or you any more appealing,” he said harshly.


Lilah shrugged indifferently, but her eyes glowed with a malicious light.


Abruptly, he turned his back on them and with Buffy in tow he headed for the nearest Black Jack table.


Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when she watched Lindsey and Lilah head for the other room, their heads close together in a conspiratorial manner. Spike took a stool at the gaming table and motioned for her to take the one next to him.


He leaned in close and whispered, “Are you alright…? You’re as white as a sheet. Would you like a drink?” he asked, concern filling his voice.


She nodded her head. Now that she was sitting, Buffy could practically feel the color draining from her face. Nervously, she gazed around the room. It seemed a calm haven, compared to the roiling sea of debauchery that was going on not twenty paces from where they sat. Spike signaled a waitress over.


“No…I-I’m fine,” she told him. “Did…did you know it was going to be like this?”


Spike looked at her. She was trembling slightly and her natural color seemed to have deserted her face. A topless waitress served them champagne and he noticed Buffy couldn’t even bring herself to glance in the young girl’s direction. Lifting her ribbon-adorned wrist off her lap, he twirled the scarlet length of satin around on the delicate bone. “No…I’m as surprised as you are…though if I’d known it was Lindsey and Lilah who would be organizin’ things…well then…” He shrugged. “They’re pretty much into the whole BDSM thing…though I didn’t know Marco was…so, NO…I didn’t know…” He saw the look of scandalized shock on her face and chuckled nervously. “Well, okay…maybe I’m not quite as surprised as you,” he added.


Buffy’s wide-eyes blinked back at him…startled and jittery. “Spike…do I look surprised? Surprised is when your friends throw you a surprise birthday party…or when someone does something totally nice for you when you least expect it…that’s surprising…ME! I’m not surprised…I’m shocked at what’s happening out there…horrified, nauseous even–”


Spike tugged on her wrist to break her rant before she could attract unwanted attention. “Okay, I get that…but it might not be a good idea to discuss it now…and especially not ‘ere,” he whispered urgently. The whole situation made him very edgy and he had no idea if the place was bugged, but there was a high chance it was and he couldn’t afford to let Buffy say something that would get them both in trouble. “In fact, it might be a good idea if you kept your trap shut…you wouldn’t want to catch any bugs…I mean flies…would you?” he asked pointedly.


Buffy sat up and looked at him sharply. She’d picked up on his deliberate slip and realized he was warning her the place could be bugged. “No…no I wouldn’t,” she replied softly.


Spike nodded his head. “Don’t worry, you’re doing fine…jus’ keep calm…and what ever you do, don’t let anythin’ rile you.”


Buffy nodded and Spike turned his attention to the table. He made a pretense of studying the cards the dealer had dealt him, while trying to keep his focus on the room and its occupants. He just knew the next few hours were going to be really hard for her.


The pile of chips in front of Spike waxed and waned as the evening unfolded. Buffy tried her hardest not to move closer to him, but she couldn’t help herself. She felt as if there were a thousand hostile eyes boring into her back. She berated herself for being paranoid but when she looked around, there was always someone staring at her and it was made even more obvious when people would ‘oh-so’ casually drift over to their table and just linger long enough to scrutinize her before moving on to some other table or back to the other room. Bravely, she endured it with a dignified grace.


Buffy glanced over at Spike. He seemed absorbed in the game. For a long moment, she studied his profile. His handsome features looked grim and his posture was rigid…his muscles tense beneath the dark rich fabric of his suit. Buffy shook herself before her mind could start dwelling on those muscles. She knew only too well, the power and sensuality of the body encased within the confines of his clothes and how dangerous it was to conjure up images of him naked. Instead, she focused on his face…he really did look grim. She guessed he hated this as much as she did.


She looked down at the scarlet ribbon…her makeshift jewelry. Last night it had been part of a costume…a symbol of something innocent turned sexual…part of a game, yet also a symbol of trust. Though Buffy certainly hadn’t thought of it in that way, but Spike clearly had…he’d taken the game to mean a great deal more than just a silly sexual fantasy. For him, it had signified a certain level of trust on her part and now that she was thinking about it, she could see why he would. Tonight it graced her wrist as a symbol of real trust. Trust…such a small word…such a big thing. Spike had wrapped it around her wrist and asked her to trust him…and Buffy was amazed at herself, because for once, she really did.


Spike shifted on his stool and a gap opened up between them. It was disconcerting to Buffy that the gap felt like a chasm and she sighed in relief when he shifted again and casually dropped his arm behind her, pulling her closer to him. The contact was the best thing Buffy had felt all evening and she didn’t care to examine why that was…brushing if off, she put it down to stress.


She sensed someone looking at her and lifted her eyes to see Marco Firelli staring at her from across the room. His gaze drifted lazily over her…hungry and hot. Buffy bristled, but refused to be intimidated and held still, defiant of his blatant appraisal. A slow sardonic smile lifted the corners of his full mouth and he saluted her in a mocking gesture with his champagne glass.


Buffy didn’t much care for his arrogance and maintaining her cool and indifferent composure, she casually allowed her gaze to sweep across the room and away from him. Unconsciously, she pressed herself against Spike as her fingers continued to twirl the satin ribbon around on her wrist. Lost in thought, she wondered who was the most dangerous to her. Masters, who wanted to see her used to punish Angel…or people like Marco, Lindsey and Lilah, who would amuse themselves at her expense. Or Spike…who wanted to use her for revenge…yet she knew there was more to it than that…certain things had changed and she wondered if it was only revenge he wanted from her now.


Spike had noticed Marco staring at Buffy and in a possessive gesture he caressed her shoulder, letting his hand slide down the length of her bare arm before pulling her fractionally closer. Marco watched Spike’s gesture with amusement. He arched a dark brow at the blonde man before silently moving on.


Spike had been in sweet agony all evening. Buffy had crept closer and closer to him, until they were pressed shoulder-to-shoulder and thigh-to-thigh. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he’d placed an arm around her in a possessive manner and pulled her even closer. Now he’d had enough. He looked at his watch, 11:47, time to leave.


He folded his cards and signaled a steward over to cash his chips. He’d won a considerable amount of money, which surprised him as his attention hadn’t been on the cards, but rather on Buffy and the room. He removed his arm from her shoulders and stood, Buffy gracefully rising to stand next to him.


Buffy was relieved at finally getting to stretch her stiff muscles. She felt as if she’d become part of the damn stool, having been trapped on it for the last two hours.


“Is that it…can we go now?” she asked hopefully.


Spike restrained the smile he wanted to give her. “Yes luv…I’ll jus’ phone the pilot to alert him we’re on our way, and once that bloke comes back with my winnin’s, we’ll get out of ‘ere,” he reassured her.


“Oh thank God…I don’t think I could–” She stopped abruptly when she spotted Lindsey and Lilah approaching quickly.


Spike turned to see what had distracted her and cursed under his breath. He’d been doing that a lot this evening, Buffy realized.


With a false smile in place, Lindsey strode towards them. “Surely you’re not leaving yet Spike…Marco is just about to start the ladies game. It would be a shame if Buffy missed out on a chance to win herself a pretty bauble,” he said, cheerily.


Spike looked towards the center of the room to the main roulette table. He could see Marco taking his place at the table as acting croupier. There was a large crowd of women and a few men gathered around the parameter of the table, all pushing and jostling each other in a vain effort to get a prime spot for the game. Spike scowled. Lindsey and Lilah were too keen to see Buffy take part and that made him very suspicious.


“Shame or not…I’m leavin’ now,” he said dryly.


Lilah took Buffy by surprise. She gripped her by the arm and marched off towards the crowded table. Over her shoulder, she called back at Spike, “Oh, don’t be such a bastard Spike…give the girl a chance to have some fun.”


Alarmed, Buffy struggled in the taller woman’s grip. She looked back at Spike. He looked furious…ready to commit murder. He was trying to get past Lindsey but every time he tried to sidestep him, Lindsey would block him. Suddenly, Buffy lost sight of him. A sea of women closed in around her. She bumped into something hard. It was the edge of the table. She tugged hard, trying to free herself from Lilah and nearly stumbled backwards when the taller woman unexpectedly released her. Turning, she tried to push her way through the press of inebriated women, but it was hopeless, she was hemmed in. She gasped as the hard edge of the table dug into her back. Groaning, she twisted back to face the other way and pushed backwards, trying to gain herself a little breathing room.


Next to her, Lilah smiled down. “Wow! Quite a crush…I guess everyone’s hoping to win something pretty,” she said, pleasantly.


Buffy just gazed back at her, frowning.


Unfazed by Buffy’s silence, Lilah asked, “Where’s your chip?”


Buffy scowled and pushed back against the woman directly behind her. “How the hell should I know…I think I lost it,” she snapped loudly over the din of babbling drunken voices.


Lilah grimaced. “Did Spike even give it back to you?”


Buffy remembered he’d slipped it into his pocket. Smiling, she looked at Lilah. “You know what…he didn’t…isn’t that a shame…well I’ll just head back and–”


Lilah held up a blank disc in front of Buffy’s face. “Not to worry…you can have this one,” she said smiling.


Buffy looked at the chip. “But isn’t that yours…? I couldn’t possibly take yours.”


Lilah shook her head and showed Buffy another blank chip. “No…I’ve got mine right here…lucky for you I was carrying a spare,” Lilah said pressing the chip into Buffy’s hand.


Buffy frowned. “Yeah…lucky me,” she replied dejectedly. She glanced over her shoulder in a vain hope that she would see Spike fighting his way towards her.


Lilah tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Come on…just pick a number and let’s play.”


Buffy watched Lilah lean over the table and place her chip on a numbered square. The other women took that as their signal to begin placing their chips and quickly there was a flurry of hasty activity as women jostled to put their discs down. Sighing, Buffy figured she’d get away from the table quicker if she just played the stupid game. So with complete disinterest, she tossed her chip onto the table and as luck would have it, it landed square on nineteen black. Again, Buffy tried to see over the press of human flesh to get a glimpse of Spike.


She heard Marco call a cheery, “GOOD LUCK!” to the women around the table and start spinning the wheel. He dropped the tiny ivory ball into the whirling circle. It bounced and pinged as it hopped along the rim. The wheel began to slow and the ball’s movements slowed with it. The women around the table held their breath in a collective hush of excited anticipation. Buffy found herself holding hers too.


The ball bounced once more before settling into a numbered slot. Marco called out, “Twelve red!”


A woman further down the table jumped up and down excitedly. She snatched up the small box presented to her by a steward, and squealed loudly as she pulled a ruby bracelet from its bed of crinkly tissue paper.


Buffy sighed happily. “Oh well, what a shame…can’t win ‘em all,” she said to Lilah.


“Oh it’s not over yet,” Lilah said smugly. “It’s a rolling game, so there’s still plenty of chances of winning.”


Buffy looked at the table. She had expected to see a steward clear the surface of what she thought were losing chips, but all the chips remained exactly where they had been placed and Marco was already spinning the wheel again.


Puzzled, Buffy asked, “I don’t get it…if the chips stay on the table then everyone will eventually win a prize…so why don’t you just give each woman a prize when she picks a number?”


Shaking her head, Lilah explained. ”Well, there’s still an element of competition as the game is timed. Marco will only spin the wheel for fifteen minutes. Hopefully in that time, there will be lots of winners…but once a number has come up and its prize is gone, Marco will place a cover on the wheel, preventing the ball from falling back into a number that has already been called…just to make it fair,” she said patiently.


Buffy’s frown deepened. “So each number comes with its own prize?”


Lilah nodded.


“So it’s not random?”


Lilah shook her head. “No there’s a list at the back of the room…that way everyone can select exactly what they’d like to have a try at winning,” she informed Buffy.


Buffy looked at the chips on the table. “So you already know what your number could win you?”


“Yes…I have my hopes set on winning a pair of pink diamond earrings.”


Buffy frowned at her own chip, wondering what possible prize could be attached to her number.


Marco called another number…and the winner screamed as a steward handed her an envelope. Her friends crowded her, as she showed off her prize of a week’s long stay at an exclusive beauty spa on some exotic island.


Marco spun the wheel again. He was clearly determined to try and bestow as many gifts as possible, in the time-span allotted to the game.


Another woman gasped, as she gently lifted a beautiful diamond choker from a sumptuous velvet case and held it up for everyone to admire.


The wheel turned again. Marco looked as if he was having a great time. Buffy watched the whole spectacle with a sense of distaste.


The next woman won a designer wardrobe.


Marco smiled magnanimously at his audience and spun the wheel again.


Buffy gasped as she felt someone grab her around the waist. Alarmed, she looked over her shoulder to see Spike gazing at her fretfully. She sighed and sagged back against his welcoming strength.


He hugged her gently. “You alright pet?” he whispered at her ear.


Buffy nodded. With Spike’s arrival, she felt suddenly drained. All she wanted to do was turn around and wrap her arms around him, and beg him to get her out of there but she couldn’t do that. Disappointed, she suppressed the urge and willed herself to relax.


Lilah smiled at them. “There you are Spike…you haven’t missed all the fun there’s–”


Spike cut her off sharply. “And you can shut your bleedin’ gob…I don’t want to hear another fuckin’ word out of you,” he growled.


Lilah shrugged and turned back to watch the game.


Spike couldn’t believe the crush. He wanted nothing more than to just get the hell out, but he was hemmed in on all sides. Deciding it wasn’t worth making a scene, he opted to wait until the crush eased up before trying to fight a path out for the two of them.


Lindsey appeared on the other side of Lilah. Buffy could see a red blotchy mark on his face and guessed Spike must have hit him. Lindsey rubbed his jaw and scowled in their direction. Buffy heard Spike growl as he stared hard at the other man.


Marco called out Lilah’s number and she happily showed Buffy the stunning pair of pink diamond earrings she’d won. Buffy arched a cool brow at the jewels but didn’t lower herself to make a comment…the displays of extravagant wealth were sickening.


The game continued. A young woman opposite them screamed with delight, as a steward gave her a box with a set of keys inside and a picture of her brand new Italian sports car.


Buffy wondered how much time was left to the game. It couldn’t be much more, but she wished the damn thing was done already so they could leave. She felt Spike playing with her ribbon and looked down to see his fingers threaded around the scarlet ornament. She was just about to risk placing her hand over his when her number was called. Immediately, she tensed in his light embrace.


A steward appeared and offered her an envelope. She stared at the sumptuous white paper as if it were a bomb.


Spike scowled at the man. “There must be some mistake…Ms. Summers didn’t play,” he snapped at the now nervous man.


Lilah piped in. “Oh, but she did…she played nineteen black.”


Spike directed his angry glare at her. “What…? No she didn’t…I’ve got her bleedin’ chip in my pocket,” he barked.


Lilah shrugged. “I gave her a new one…and she played it on nineteen black,” she repeated.


Spike glanced at Buffy. “Please tell me you didn’t play?” he groaned.


Flustered, Buffy stammered, “Well…I-I didn’t want to…but she gave me a chip…I thought it was just one round…a-and…I-I ju-just wanted to get away.”


Spike snatched the thick envelope from the steward’s hand and ripped it open with a sense of sick dread. After reading it he sucked in an angry breath.


Buffy jumped as Spike exploded next to her. “You fuckin’ bastards…you fixed it,” he yelled in Lindsey and Lilah’s direction.


Buffy caught his arm fearfully. Lilah and Lindsey moved back and suddenly they were no longer hemmed in. Spike was ranting and yelling at them about the game being fixed.


Marco appeared at Spike’s side. He clamped a heavy hand on Spike’s arm. “There’s no need to make a scene Spike,” he said calmly. Spike angrily snatched his arm back. “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private,” he said reasonably. He tried to take Spike’s arm again to steer him away from the roulette table, but Spike was having none of it and pulled back.


Looking behind him, he caught Buffy’s hand and together they followed Marco, with Lindsey and Lilah trailing after them.


Marco led them out of the gaming room and along a short corridor to a private sitting room. Lindsey, who was the last one to cross the threshold, closed the door behind him.


Spike rounded on them. “I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing but this is one prize the lady won’t be collecting.” He waved the crushed card at them. He was pacing, so agitated that he didn’t even realize he was forcing Buffy to pace with him. He still had a tight hold of her hand.


She tugged on his hand, forcing his attention back on her. He looked at her crossly…frowned…and stopped pacing. Groaning, he tried to calm himself. Buffy was looking back at him. The color once more drained from her face, her eyes large and bright. He led her over to the nearest couch. Calmer, he turned to face the other three.


“The game was fixed…it had to be…now I don’t know who’s behind it…but this isn’t happenin’…not ever,” he stated, firmly.


Buffy wondered what the hell was going on. Have I won the trip to Paris…is that why he’s so mad?


“I can assure you the game was certainly not fixed.” Macro informed Spike. “I was spinning the wheel myself until you interrupted…and I personally selected the gifts myself. Now, if Buffy was fortunate enough to win a gift, I suggest you accept it graciously.”


Spike’s expression was thunderous, but Marco wasn’t perturbed.


His tone became decidedly chilly. “It’s not a good idea to refuse a gift from your host Spike…I might feel insulted…and I don’t think Masters would be happy to hear you’ve insulted me…do you?” Marco asked.


Spike was desperately trying to think his way out of this situation, but he was damned if he could think of anything. The reminder that Masters was a close friend to Marco was an icy jolt to his thought process, which didn’t help.


“She didn’t even want to play, Lilah–”


Cutting Spike off, Marco turned to look at Buffy. “Did anyone force you to play?” he asked brusquely.


Buffy glanced up at Spike standing next to her, then over at Lilah who was coincidentally next to Lindsey. They were all looking at her expectantly. Buffy didn’t like where this was going. She had the distinct feeling she was being played. She looked at Marco’s handsome confident face. He looked too sure of himself and suddenly she felt out of her depth. ”I didn’t want to play but Lilah gave me a chip and there was such a crowd at–”


“Yes, but did anyone force you to play?” He snapped.


Buffy bristled at his tone and sat up a bit straighter. “No,” she replied hotly.


Marco smiled slowly and looked at Spike. “Still a lot of fire left in her I see.”


He fixed his gaze back on Buffy. “So, no one forced you to play, and did you choose your own number?” He wanted to know.


Buffy glanced at Lilah’s smug face. “Yes,” she replied honestly.


“Well, I’m flattered,” he said before turning back to Spike. ”See, no one forced her to play and she picked her own number…now–”


Why should he be flattered, Buffy wondered.


Spike shook his head. “That don’t matter…it was still fixed,” he said with conviction.


“I don’t see how…the prize list was at the back of the room all evening. Everyone was welcome to look at it and select their gift. Buffy chose nineteen black and she’s won the gift attached to that number.”


Spike frowned and looked at Buffy. “Did you see any prize list?” he asked her. She shook her head and Spike fixed Marco with a glare. “What prize list?” He snapped.


As if by magic, Lilah produced a sheet of paper and handed it to Spike. He looked at it quickly and shoved it back at her angrily. “That doesn’t prove anythin’, it could–”


Buffy had had enough and she wanted to know what the hell was going on. Quickly, she jumped up and snatched the card from Spike. She stepped away quickly, turning her body away to shield the card so she could read it without Spike snatching it back. Spike yelled something at her, but she didn’t hear him. She’d read the card. Spike reached over her shoulder and pulled it from her fingers.


She whirled around and faced Marco, her eyes flashing angry green fire. “You have got to be kidding me…there is no way in hell I’m spending the night with you and you’re insane if you think you can make me…I don’t care who you’re friends with…and you can tell that old–”


Spike grabbed her and shoved her brutally to the couch, abruptly cutting off her rant. “Shut the fuck up…I didn’t say you could speak. Now shut your fuckin’ bug trap before I slap it shut,” he yelled.


Buffy gasped. Bug trap…! Bug trap…! Oh God! He’s warning me…What did I say…? Did I say anything wrong…? No Spike stopped me…Oh God, Buffy thought, sickened. She stared up at him, her eyes filling with sudden tears.


“Do you understand me Buffy…? You keep the bleedin’ hell quiet,” he snapped, giving her a small shake for good measure. Her chest was heaving with her pent up emotions and fright.


Buffy looked at his hands gripping her wrists. Through the watery haze of her tears, she could see the bright scarlet of her ribbon peeping from between the gaps of his fingers. Trust…such a small word…such a big thing. Visibly shaken, she looked into his eyes and saw her own fear reflected in his sapphire blue eyes. She nodded her head. Spike closed his eyes softly for a few vital seconds, before letting her go and straightening up.


Coolly, he faced the others. “I ‘ave to get back to LA tonight and Buffy’s comin’ with me–” He held his hand up, halting Marco as he opened his mouth to protest. “It says spend the night…it don’t say it has to be tonight. I’m going back to LA now…I need her with me for my reception tomorrow, but when it’s done, I’ll bring her back…which will be Sunday…and that’s my final word on it.”


Taking Buffy’s hand, he half jerked her off the couch. They were half way to the door when Marco’s deep voice stilled them. “Don’t trouble yourself Spike…I know where to find you…I’ll collect her myself…have her ready by seven.”


Spike glanced over his shoulder and nodded once curtly.


*****


Safely ensconced in the back of the limo, they began their silent journey back to the airport.


Both of them were lost in their own troubled thoughts. Spike was staring straight ahead, his focus turned inward.


Once again, Buffy stared out at the city scene. Vaguely, she thought she might be looking at the world’s ugliest display of color. Normally she loved bright lights and explosive colors…fireworks especially, but this was ugly. The whole thing had a cheap and tacky appearance…it was so false…so fake that it offended her in the same way the glittering jewels, Marco had lavished on his female guests had. The brightness stung her already smarting eyes and the electric colors blurred and swirled together in a twisted version of their true selves. The effect made her feel a little sick.


Christmas trees…I like Christmas trees…with the pretty lights that twinkle…I wonder what Christmas with Spike will be like? She nearly laughed out loud at the bizarre thought. What the hell am I doing thinking about Christmas and Spike at a time like this? She glanced down when she felt him reach across the gap between them and clasp her hand.


Buffy looked at him, but all she got was his stony profile. She wondered what he was thinking. He was so still…so quiet. Spike was never still and quiet. It scared her that he was now and she couldn’t help wondering if he blamed her.


The airport loomed ahead.


When the limo came to a halt on the tarmac, Spike offered Buffy his hand to help her alight from the back seat. He gave the pilot some instructions and with a gentle hand resting on the small of her back, he silently urged her up the stairs and aboard the plane.


Once on board, he guided her to a seat and buckled her in as if she were a little child. She wasn’t looking at him. She was avoiding looking at him. Anguished, Spike gently grazed a finger over her cheek before taking his own seat. The silence between them was painful.


The plane leveled out and the pilot announced over the sound system that it was safe to move about.


Spike jerked into action, practically ripping his seatbelt off as he jumped up. With the electronic bug detector, he checked the plane for spy devices. When nothing showed up, he flung the detector back into his briefcase. He grabbed Buffy’s seatbelt and in his haste to get her out of her chair, he nearly tore it from its moorings.


Taking Buffy by the hand, Spike led the way into the bedroom. He closed the door with a loud bang. Not bothering to turn the light on, he took her face in his hands and pulled her to him, kissing her deeply. The kiss was full of his pain and passion.


She moaned and opened her mouth, only to have him fill it with his tongue. She sighed and arched into him. The kiss went on…full of so much need that she felt overwhelmed by the sheer weight of his silent demand. She remembered the kiss from the night before…where she thought she’d die from the intensity of her reaction to him. She felt it again…now.


Groaning, his hands glided down from her face. He caressed her bare shoulder and arm, ghosting down her spine and over the flare of her hips to the swell of her bottom. He pressed her against his hard length. She moaned softly and her arms wound around his neck.


His fingers found her zipper and her dress slipped to the floor. She eased his jacket off his shoulders and loosened his tie. His fingers danced up her spine and unhooked her bra. He helped her remove his shirt and kicked off his shoes. She reached for his pants with animated hands, her little breaths tickling his face and neck. He groaned as she touched him. He lowered her thong down her thighs, skimming the downy softness with the backs of his hands.


Naked, they fell to the bed.


Within seconds, he was inside her, the hard length of his arousal gliding with slow deliberation. He kept kissing her…pulling back and gazing at her between each brush of his lips…almost as if he was afraid she wouldn’t be there if he didn’t keep looking at her.


She spiraled out of time and space as he drove them on. She could sense his anxiety…it was a tangible presence between them, overshadowing his passion and desire, controlling his movements. She wanted to sob…he was so beautiful. There were no words exchanged. His body was his only language and she wished to God she could decipher what he was trying to say to her. A sudden surge within her caused her to cry out…her passion filled voice ringing in the darkness. She gripped his shoulders and raised herself up, offering him her mouth.


He gazed at her…wonder and awe washing through him as she offered him her mouth to kiss. His heart twisted. What could he do? Lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her. In all this passion…all this beauty…precious, precious girl…where is your heart? He silently cried.


She shuddered in his arms and he felt her body surrender to nature.


He gave himself to her…pouring his desire onto her…covering her with his hopes and dreams. Then he cried out…a single word wrenched from his lips, a desolate prayer…a heartbreaking homage. “Buffy.”


*****


They lay entwined in the comforting dark. The sound of their breathing slowing as their bodies cooled and calmed.


“I’m sorry,” she whispered.


“It’s not your fault,” he told her.


“No…you warned me something like this could happen and I–”


“No Buffy…it’s not your fault…it’s mine,” he said, firmly.


It didn’t help that he knew they’d been railroaded. It was still his fault. He’d slipped up and let her down…again.


“But–”


“No Buffy…no…it’s not your fault and it doesn’t matter anyway…because it’s never going to happen…he’s never going to touch you,” he said with complete certainty.


He hoisted himself up to lean on one elbow so he could gaze down at her. The room was dark but he could see her perfectly well. “It’s never going to happen…tomorrow you’re going to sweep all those businessmen off their feet and after you’ve softened them up for me, I’m going to secure all of them to our cause,” he whispered softly.


Dragging a damp strand of hair off her face, he added, “Then I’m going to phone Masters and claim my reward…and once you’re mine Buffy, you’ll be safe. Marco won’t be able to touch you…and while Marco might be Masters’ friend…the old man gave me his word and he knows he won’t be able to break a pledge like that. His reputation is built on his word and he values the goodwill of the people who work for him far more than seeing Marco ‘ave a one night stand with you.”


Buffy could hear the conviction in his voice, but she was still hesitant to believe. She remembered the way Marco had mocked her as he saluted her with his champagne glass…the way he’d looked at her.


She looked at Spike. He was gazing at her and she realized she could see his belief in his eyes. Suddenly, Marco didn’t matter.


Spike grasped her wrist lightly, bringing the scarlet ribbon into their line of sight. He rubbed his thumb over the smooth satin.


“Now tell me you believe me…tell me you trust me…please,” he begged.


Tears floated to the surface of her eyes, blurring her vision and tightening her throat to the point of pain. Unable to speak, she choked back the sob that threatened to escape her and nodded her head.


Spike kissed her wrist softly. “Thank you.”


**********************************************************
TBC…soon.

 

Chapter Fifty Five.

A Change of Heart


The morning of the reception dawned and after a poor nights sleep, Buffy woke early only to find Spike wasn’t in bed with her. She sat up looking around to find him, but he was nowhere in sight. Slipping on her robe, she went into the sitting room. He was sitting on the couch with a pile of paperwork spread out on the coffee table.


He looked up when he saw her standing next to him. He looked tired and Buffy wondered if he’d slept at all.


“Hi.”


“Hello luv, you’re up early. I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said.


She shook her head. “No, but what are you doing?” Cautiously, she kept back from the coffee table and the paperwork.


“Jus’ finishin’ with a couple of last minute files that need to go down to the holdin’ rooms,” he told her distractedly. “Luke should be along any moment to collect these and then, since you’re up, how ‘bout we get an early breakfast?”


She wondered if she should broach the subject of last night, but after they’d made love on the plane, Spike had refused all her attempts to discuss it any further. He kept insisting there was nothing to discuss, as she was never going to have to spend the night with Marco Firelli.


“Sure…you want me to order now?” She was just about to pick up the phone when there was a knock at the door. Pulling the belt of her robe tighter, Buffy went to open it. It was Luke. She pulled the door wide and let him pass.


He gave her a nod and headed straight for Spike. “Are they ready yet?” He wanted to know.


“Yeah, is Dix set up?”


“Yeah, he’s taking up his post now.”


“Then ‘ere, that’s the last of it. Tell him I’ll be down later to check on everythin’ and I’ll call you when I’m ready.” He was frowning thoughtfully. “Wake Angel and tell him if he wants to use the gym he’ll ‘ave to do it now…we can’t spare anyone to watch him later…and don’t take your gun off him…today’s the last day we need any slip-ups.”


Buffy was shocked to hear Spike telling Luke, Angel could use the gym, but she was horrified to hear his order about the gun. Stricken, she glanced at Spike, but he wasn’t paying any attention to her. Luke caught her eye and Spike noticed the path his gaze took. His head swiveled sharply to look at Buffy’s wounded face.


He barked at her crossly. “Buffy…wait in the other room…I’ll be in, in a minute.” He held her eye for a second before turning back to Luke.


Blushing, Buffy felt like she was being dismissed. Quickly, she went into the bedroom, angrily slamming the door behind her. How dare he treat me like that, she fumed. She flopped down on top of the bed, trying to suppress her anger.


She thought about what she’d just heard and wondered when Spike had started allowing Angel to use the gym. Did he always have Luke watch him with a gun? She was determined to have an answer.


A quick glance at the clock told her it was barely past seven and she contemplated taking a shower in defiance of Spike’s order to wait for him. She had no idea if he would keep her waiting, just to put her in her place and she was in no mood to just sit around waiting on his whim. She headed for the shower.


*****


The water felt good and Buffy took her time. She had a long day ahead of her and thought she might as well begin with an indulgently long shower. She sighed forlornly, thinking over the last couple of days. The events of the night before weighing heavily, though she knew it was pointless to dwell on the prospect of having to spend a night in Marco Firelli’s company and she was under no illusions as to what spending a night with him entailed. But Spike was right…he had to be…something deep inside her refused to consider he could be wrong, and so she firmly decided to put the thought of Marco Firelli from her mind and concentrate on what had to be done to make the reception the success it needed to be.


Everything was prepared. There was nothing more she could possibly do and now it was all in God’s hands as to whether it succeeded or not. She’d played her part, now she had to trust Spike to do his and she didn’t doubt he would do everything in his power to see it all work in their favor.


Netting the new clients was still to be achieved and only Spike could do that. Buffy was vaguely aware a good portion of the guests were of a less than savory character and their involvement was of particular interest to Spike, as a way of furthering his standing with Masters and establishing himself as the new force in LA. The other guests, while they might be legitimate businessmen, were still of great importance to the new order of things. Though she had no real idea what proportion of the guests were legitimate businessmen but from working on the guest list, she suspected a good number of them were and she wondered how they could possibly be of any real use to Spike, unless the plan was to corrupt them.


Spike had made it very clear to her, when it came to that point of the evening when he would be conducting his meeting with the potential new members, she should enjoy the show that was to be staged with the wives and partners of the clients, while he put his proposals forward. He told her the meeting wouldn’t take more than an hour, as he had no intention of begging these men to join him…they either listened and excepted his offer or they didn’t, but there was no way he would drag it out.


Buffy had asked him a string of questions about the meeting and tried to dig an answer out of him, about what would happen to those men who decide not to join him, but Spike had refused to answer a single question. He’d kissed her lightly on the cheek and told her, she was better off not knowing. She had huffed and fumed and he’d laughed at her pout and kissed her hard on the mouth, but when she continued to press him for an answer he’d lost his temper and yelled at her, telling her to remember her place before he stormed out of the room. Buffy could well guess what might happen to those businessmen who didn’t accept. That was a week ago.


*****


Spike was just coming through the bedroom door as Buffy entered from the steamy bathroom. He eyed her towel wrapped form with a mixture of disapproval and appreciation.


Buffy flushed guiltily and turned her back on him as she sat at the dressing table.


Lounging on the bed, Spike watched her under hooded lids. She was silently combing her hair as she pointedly avoided looking at him. He waited…patiently for once.


As he thought, Buffy broke the heavy silence first. “How long have you been allowing Angel to use the gym?” Her eyes remained fixed on her own reflection as she spoke.


Spike waited for her to glance at him before answering. “Since I took you up to the cabin,” he said. He saw no reason to lie to her. “I should’ve told you sooner but after we got back, there were the cameras to deal with and then the preparations for the reception…things kinda piled up and it honestly slipped my mind to say anythin’ ‘bout Angel,” he shrugged. “Besides, what difference does it make…I’m not going to let you see him again and Luke always has him covered with a gun, so I’m not worried he’ll try anythin’ as stupid as tryin’ to get away.”


“Is that why you have Luke watch him with the gun…because you think without it, he’ll try and run?” She felt slightly sick at the thoughts of anyone being intimidated by Luke…especially Luke pointing a gun at them.


“I don’t know…do you?” Did she really think he couldn’t see her concern for Angel shining in her eyes?


“I…I – no…no I don’t think he would,” she admitted.


Spike got off the bed and gently took the comb from her. “I think it’s all combed pet.” He gazed at her thoughtfully in the mirror. “Why don’t you think he would run Buffy?”


“Because…” she shrugged her slim shoulders and averted her gaze. “I…I don’t know…he just wouldn’t.”


“Is it because he’s still in love with you?” he asked softly, as he brushed her damp hair away from her neck.


She quivered. “I don’t know…maybe…”


“Even though I believe he’s still in love with you, I’m not willin’ to risk your safety by being stupid. I’ll take every precaution I possibly can whenever Angel is out of his room.” He rubbed her shoulders gently, his fingers eliciting a throbbing beat in her veins. “Once he’s gone, it won’t make any difference to me how Masters has him watched, but while he’s ‘ere, Luke will guard his every move with a gun…jus’ to be on the safe side.”


Spike wondered what was going through her mind. Did she even realize he could see her concern written all over her face? He wondered at how it was possible she could still have this regard for Angel, while adamantly professing her hatred for him. She shrugged away from him. Jealous and annoyed, Spike released her shoulders and turned away from her.


She took him by surprise when she jumped up from the stool and grabbed his arm. “What will you do if he stops loving me…if he meets someone else and falls in love with them?” Her eyes burned bright as she gripped him tightly. “What will you do then Spike…where will your revenge be then…if he no longer loves me, will you let me–” she stopped abruptly. Gasping fearfully, she released him and took a quick step back, bumping into the dressing table as she realized what she had nearly said.


Spike’s eyes narrowed as he whispered, “Never.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from balling them into angry fists. “I’ll never let you go…I don’t care how many women he falls in love with, he’ll never forget you…his first love…and I’ll never let you go.” This was as much a declaration because of Marco Firelli as well as Angel. He watched her inching away from him.


He was angry now. The stress and pressure of the last few weeks had taken their toll on his stretched nerves and after the events of the night before, he was damn near ready to break.


“One day he’ll stop comin’ between us and then it’ll jus’ be you and me.” Suddenly he caught her shoulders and held her steady. “Masters will remodel him and by the time you next see him, he might ‘ave loved and bedded dozens of different women, but he’ll probably be thinkin’ of you whenever he touches any of them…or he’ll be trying his hardest not to think of you. ‘Cause they’ll never be you Buffy…I’ll have the one woman he’ll always want.” He touched her face, grazing her cheek with a roughened finger. She tried to pull back, an expression of loathing on her annoyed face. “And he’ll know you’re ‘ere with me…my girl…my lover and he’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout that every single time he fucks another woman, wonderin’ if I make you moan the same way he makes them moan.” He pulled her to him and nibbled her ear, softly sucking on the lobe. He smiled triumphantly when she moaned quietly. “And that will be enough revenge to keep me satisfied for the rest of my life…and the fact that he will torment himself with thoughts of us together, will jus’ be the element that will make me smile each time I make love to you.”


Buffy glared at him, but he only laughed as she tried to push him away. “Let go of me…you pig…I’ll never be your girl…I hate you.” She squirmed and struggled, trying to free herself.


Sardonically, Spike smirked. “Why…When you know I can make you want it…want me?”


Angry, Buffy tensed, her head whipping up to pin him with an icy glare. She hit back in the only way she knew how…with hard, angry, ugly words. “You’re right…you can make me want it…you can even make me want you, but it’s only what you can do that I want and let’s face it, any man with a little experience could do the same…so don’t flatter yourself by thinking it’s you I want,” she snapped at him, pushing with all her strength to make him let go. “And maybe you’re right about Angel, maybe I am his first love and he’ll never forget me, but that works both ways…he was my first love too and I’ll never forget him…and maybe he will think of me when he’s listening to someone else moan, but maybe it’s him I’m thinking about when you make me moan,” she spat at him.


Suddenly the atmosphere between them became charged…a monstrous thunderstorm, poised to break.


Silently, Spike released her and took a tiny step back. Buffy looked at him, surprised he would give in so easy. For a split second, she thought she saw a wounded look deep in his eyes, but then she blinked and all she saw was a cold, hard look of fury, which stilled her surprise and replaced it with terror.


His voice was filled with cold menace. “Angel…always fuckin’ Angel, I’m so sick of ‘aving that bastard thrown in my face.” He started to pace. “Every bleedin’ time…no matter what I do it’s always going to come back to him. Bloodsuckin’, rapin’, murderin’, lowlife scum that he is and you still think he’s some sort of fuckin’ hero…” He spun around and fixed her with an icy glare. “Are you still in love with him?” he demanded.


Buffy flinched and backed away from him but stubbornly she kept silent.


Spike was furious. “WELL, ARE YOU?” he yelled.


Buffy realized she might have gone too far. “No,” she whispered.


“Really…are you sure…? ‘Cause I can understand how you’d be bleedin’ blind to his faults if you were…but if you’re not…well.” He marched over to her, backing her up against the wall. “You think I’m a monster and he’s…what? A saint?” he asked sarcastically.


“No…I never said that,” she replied defensively.


“Then what Buffy…what DO you think he is?” he demanded.


She lifted her chin and bravely met his intimidating glare. “Repentant,” she said sincerely.


Spike scoffed. “Well that’s jus’ bleedin’ hilarious that is…Angel, repentant. You ‘aven’t got a fuckin’ clue…you–”


Finding her voice she spoke up, “Yes I do…I know Angel…and…and…while he’s not perfect and he’s done things in the past…bad things…he…he’s deep down a good person…a decent person…and he wanted to change…and you prevented him from doing that by dragging him back here and now–”


Spike mocked her. “Bad things…not perfect…a good person…a decent person…are you MAD?”


Exasperated, Buffy tried to push past him but he pinned her back against the wall, forcing her to confront him.


He brushed her damp hair off her shoulders, his eyes skimming her exposed décolletage. Slowly, he leaned into her and kissed her neck. Buffy tried hopelessly to fight the little tingles that raced along her spine. “I’m beginnin’ to think I was right all those months ago. That somehow when he fell in love with you…you became some kind of icon…a Madonna…to him. You weren’t a real woman to him…not like you are to me. What was it Buffy…did he treat you like a paragon of virtue…flawless…and too perfect to own your own desires to be a sexual creature…did he stick you on a pedestal and worship you from afar…is that why you think he is so perfect?”


He grabbed her wrists and stretched her arms above her head, pinning her body beneath his. She gasped softly, his erection pressing hard into the soft flesh of her stomach. Spike looked down at her. Her lips were parted in an unconscious invitation. “Angel might ‘ave put you on a pedestal to worship you Buffy, and I’m sure you found that very romantic and flatterin’ but eventually you’d ‘ave outgrown it…because you were never meant to be adored from afar.” He kissed the side of her neck, licking and sucking the building pulse point. She moaned softly and pushed against his erection. His mouth moved to capture hers, his tongue sweeping in to coax her to respond. Soon, she was wriggling against him, her body aching with a deep yearning. She bit his lip, trying to get him to take it to the next level.


“You were meant for this.” He nuzzled her neck and breathed in her heady feminine scent, delighting in how she made his senses sharpen. “So I smashed that bloody pedestal, but only so I could bring you into my arms, where I can worship you as you should be…as a real flesh and blood woman…alive and sensual…and you are alive Buffy…when you’re in my arms you come to life…your skin flushes and your blood sings…your body blooms and I worship you…” She groaned and arched into him.


“Do you want me Buffy?” he murmured.


The sound of his voice thick and heavy with arousal made her burn for him. Her eyes fluttered open and she met his smouldering gaze. Her core was a throbbing ache, wet and ready for him. She couldn’t believe how badly she ached for him but she couldn’t bring herself to admit her need, her desire, not out loud, not to him or even to herself.


Spike could see she was fighting. He thought they’d moved past this. Suddenly, he knew he’d had enough. He couldn’t force her to accept him and more importantly he didn’t want to. Revenge and Angel be damned, and he knew then, that this thing between them had nothing to do with his desire to see Angel suffer. Acceptance dropped into place in his heart. He’d thought…he’d hoped that after her display of trust, she might just be willing to really begin to accept him in her life…and although she’d agreed and told him she’d willing consent to being his, he knew it was just lip service…because of the threats, but he’d still hoped over time it would become real. Now, he realized he was a fool…a love fool. She didn’t really want him, she’d never want him. She’d said it herself…any man with a little experience could arouse her and he couldn’t continue to live happily with the only part she allowed him access to…it was meaningless to have her surrender to him through duress. Spike thought it might kill him to give up on her, but if he couldn’t have all of her, he didn’t want any of her. It hurt too much. Saddened, he released her and stepped back.


Buffy nearly cried out with the loss of contact. She clutched the towel that was threatening to slither off her body and for one mad moment, she considered just letting it go…letting it fall to the floor and offer herself to him but the look on his face changed her mind.


Over the months since they’d met, she’d seen a myriad array of expressions on his face when he looked at her. From anger and irritation right through to desire and amusement…now for the first time, she was seeing contempt. Confused, she took a step towards him.


“Don’t,” he snapped, effectively halting her.


Buffy frowned. She watched amazed as he gazed at her with the full force of his scorn. It was as if a wall had dropped between them and she couldn’t believe how bereft that made her feel.


He was shaking his head slowly, staring at the floor in front of her feet. “I can’t do this…I can’t live like this. This isn’t what I want. I knew it would be hard work…that we would need to try to…to – but this…this isn’t livin’…or even us tryin’. This is a war zone and I don’t want to do this anymore.” His voice was flat and hollow.


Buffy was numb with shock. What was he saying? She blinked. “What do you mean?” she whispered.


“I’m tired of fightin’ you Buffy…after tonight, that’s it…” The color drained from her face and fear made her limbs tremble. Spike saw her reaction and knew what she was thinking. Quickly, he put her mind at rest. “No…I’m not talkin’ ‘bout sendin’ you to Masters or letting you go. That’s not changed…he’d jus’ send some hit man after you if I let you go. And he’d still destroy you if I sent you to him…he’d hand you around to guys like Marco Firelli or people like Lindsey and Lilah as a playthin’ to be used until there’s nothin’ left to use. But that isn’t going to happen…I promise. So we’ll get through today and when I speak to Masters, I’ll still ask him to give you to me as my reward. I’ll make sure he lets Marco know you’re mine…so you’ll be safe…but after that, we’re done…you can move back into the other room until a suite can be arranged for you.”


Buffy stared at him, not believing what she was hearing.


“I’ll keep Cooper as my PA and find you somethin’ legit to do with the new businesses…somethin’ executive, and you can report directly to Luke, that way you won’t even ‘ave to sit through breakfast meetings. It’s a big house…we should be able to avoid one another without too much trouble.”


She was staring at him vacantly. He guessed it was shock. He gazed at her, trying to absorb as much of her as possible. She was so beautiful and Spike knew he would never be able to erase from his mind, the knowledge of her beautiful fiery body and how it reacted to him. He steeled himself. He would be strong. He’d keep her safe but give her up…yes, it would be hard, but it would be for the best…because it was no longer enough that he had her beautiful fiery body…not when what he really wanted was her heart…and while her passion might be fiery, her heart was ice.


He grazed her cheek with a gentle finger and smiled forlornly at her. “It’s for the best.” He dropped his hand and moved clear away from her. She was still frozen beside the wall, clutching her damp towel about her. He took a deep steadying breath and released it slowly before saying calmly, “You should get dressed…breakfast will be ‘ere in a few minutes.”


Without saying another word, he turned and quickly left the room. The sound of the bedroom door quietly closing snapped Buffy out of her frozen state. She blinked and stared at the door, wondering what had just happened.


*****


Buffy dressed and went out onto the balcony where Jonathan had laid out a hearty breakfast. There was no sign of Spike. Jonathan informed her, his boss had left instructions. He would be down in the holding rooms for the next couple of hours. If she needed to get in touch with him over details about the reception, she could page him. Buffy nodded and sat down to eat.


She told herself this was wonderful news…that she should be jumping for joy. It was the next best thing to being set free. Spike was willing to protect her, but he’d stop forcing himself on her. These new arrangements were fantastic. She’d have her own suite and a job…a good job. She’d have her privacy back…completely, as she wouldn’t have to share her living space with Spike. She’d hardly have to see him. There’d be no more arguments or fights…and she wouldn’t have to put up with his bad moods or his foul temper. No more meaningless promises or entreaties. No more unwanted and relentless pursuit of her body. No more smouldering looks that made her burn and blush. No more kisses that stole her reason. No more whispered words of sweetness as he moved inside her. The blanket of his own brand of benediction, performed on her with his hands…his mouth…his lips…his whole body. No more. Buffy’s heart felt heavy.


She wondered if Cooper would still be expected to shadow her wherever she went. Probably not, she reasoned as his duties as Spike’s PA might not allow him time. Would Spike assign someone else to the job? A cold shiver of fear shot down her spine at the thoughts that it might be Gilbey. She would have to come clean to Spike…tell him about Gilbey and pray he didn’t hold her responsible. She’d ask Wesley to back her up…maybe together they could convince Spike it had been Gilbey who was at fault. Maybe Spike would let Wesley be her new bodyguard…she got along with Wesley and if Spike intended to give her an executive job, maybe she could work alongside Wesley.


Buffy told herself this was all wonderful, that her life would get better and that she was happy…really happy that Spike wouldn’t be in her life.


In her musings, she’d wandered back into the bedroom. She jumped when she caught sight of herself in the wall-sized mirror. She let go a nervous little laugh at the silliness of jumping at her own reflection. Standing tall, she took a long look at herself. Had she changed, she wondered? She gazed at the young woman looking back at her. She couldn’t see any obvious changes, except for the very stylish and expensive white trouser-suit. She looked sophisticated and elegant…the clothes fit her with a casual chic that lent her a confidence she’d never had before. Her hair gleamed with health and vitality as did her skin and eyes. She ran her hands down her body, cupping her breasts, acknowledging their full ripeness that still ached and tingled with unfulfilled longing from Spike’s earlier touch.


She realized she’d gained a little weight…she hadn’t noticed before but she wasn’t surprised. Spike was always coaxing her to indulge in the varied and appetizing menu provided by the kitchen. He’d take great delight in hand feeding her treats and desserts across the dinner table or while they sat watching TV in the evening. Buffy decided she liked her new softer figure; it was more womanly…more sensual.


Buffy told herself Spike was right…it was for the best…the very best. Fighting sudden tears, she suppressed a sob.


Buffy gazed at the woman in the mirror. Oh Buffy, Spike’s right…you’re a terrible liar, she told herself.


*****


Spike was gazing into the room that Angel now occupied. The room was very much like the one he’d had previously, but this one was much bigger. There was a large comfortable bed in one corner, as well as a fully equipped entertainment center with a widescreen TV sitting on the wall opposite the bed. A mini fridge stood in one corner. The metal table with its manacles had been replaced with a small wooden dinning table. For added comfort, there was a large bookcase full of books, DVD’s and CD’s. The room was unoccupied, but Spike could see a billow of steam coming through an open door, which he knew, led to the bathroom.


The observation room he was in was dimly lit. There were three men sitting at the table behind him…Angel’s guards. The room was pretty much set up in the same way as the other observation room, with lockers, couch, table and a coffee machine. Spike stood at the large window set in the wall.


Dixon entered the room and crossed to stand beside him.


“She’s here boss,” he said.


Spike glanced at him. “Already…she’s a bit early, isn’t she?”


“Yeah…I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding. I told Glory we needed a girl for the day and she took it literally.” Dixon explained.


Spike rolled his eyes. “Fine, where’d you put her?”


“Cell three, boss,” Dixon replied.


Spike headed to the door, his thoughts fixed on the remaining crucial preparations for the reception, though Buffy still haunted him, a bittersweet ghost, dogging his movements.


He opened the door to cell three and froze. He groaned and swore under his breath. Cordelia sat at the small table, looking fresh and cool in a summer green dress. Heaving a heavy sigh, Spike closed the door.


“I ‘ave a job for you, but if you don’t want to do it, I’ll understand, but when I gave Dixon the go-ahead to set this up, I didn’t know Angel would request you,” he said honestly.


Cordy sat up straighter on her chair. “Angel requested me…? Is he the job?”


Spike nodded. “Yeah…listen, if you don’t want to do this, there’s still plenty of time to get him a replacement…jus’ because he asked for you, don’t mean you ‘ave to–”


Cordy cut him off. “As long as Buffy doesn’t get to hear about it, it’s fine by me,” she told him in a down-to-earth manner.


Spike looked at her, more than a little surprised. “Well if you’re sure…”


Cordy waved away his surprise. “Yeah, I’m sure…just as long as you can assure me Buffy won’t find out…what with the two of them having history…” She saw Spike flinch. “I’d hate to think of it getting back to her, she might not understand.”


Spike didn’t doubt that. “No, she won’t find out…now you’re a lot earlier than Dixon had intended, so you can either come back later or…”


“Or start now,” she finished for him. He nodded. “Do you mind if I ask why you’re doing this?”


Spike shrugged. “Well it was Dixon’s idea really…because of the reception tonight, Dixon’s in charge down ‘ere, that means he’s responsible for watchin’ Angel and he suggested Angel would be a lot easier to watch if he was fully occupied.” He could see she understood. “I guess Dixon figured it would be better if Angel actually liked the girl we got him and I think I should point out, you’ll ‘ave an audience.” She looked at him, puzzlement dancing across her face. “There’s a two-way mirror set in the wall, it’s how the guards keep an eye on him throughout the day.” He explained.


Cordy arched a shapely brow. “Well that’s very spy central…so they’ll be a couple of guys getting a free peep-show, anything else I should know?”


“Not really…but you’ll be ‘ere for the day, that means until the reception is over, ‘cause while it’s going on, the doors down ‘ere will be locked.” He saw the frown that suddenly marred her normally serene face. “But you’ll be well compensated…you’re fee will be tripled and your losses covered for any cancellations you had to make and Glory’s already been told the money is all yours.” That seemed to smooth her frown and put a small smile on her lips.


“Well sounds like everything’s covered then,” she said sweetly.


Spike was a little curious himself. “Errm…you and Angel…you ever…?”


Cordy gave him a knowing look. “What’d you think…?”


Spike’s brows lifted towards his hairline. “Right…that’s what I figured.”


“We kind of go back a ways…but he never really wanted to…er…to make it serious…semi-serious maybe, but not serious.” She admitted.


Spike was struck with a sudden surprising thought. “You really like him…don’t you?” he asked amazed.


Cordy shrugged and gave him an odd little look. “Well…don’t sound so surprised…he can be very charming when he wants to be…not to mention how good he–”


“Okay, that’s enough. If I ‘ave to listen to one more woman extol the virtues of Angel, I think I might ‘ave to find somethin’ to kill,” he snapped.


He turned away abruptly, striding quickly towards the door.


Swiftly coming to Angel’s door, Spike turned to her. “Now you’re sure you don’t ‘ave a problem with this?” he asked once more.


Cordy shook her head. “No, just promise me you won’t tell Buffy.”


“Why would I? I ‘ave absolutely no reason to tell her,” he assured her.


She pressed on just to make sure. “And you won’t get anyone else to tell her.” She knew Spike could be a mean bastard when the mood struck him.


He sighed, annoyed. “NO!” He snapped. “I’m not going to tell her and I’m not going to get anyone else to tell her.”


“So you’ll promise?” she persisted.


“I promise, Buffy won’t find out,” Spike said.


Cordy smiled at him sweetly. “Well that’s alright then.”


Spike unlocked Angel’s door and moved back to allow Cordy entrance. Just as she was about to step passed him, he heard someone opening the security door. He looked up just in time to see Buffy being escorted through by Marti. Alarmed, he quickly nudged Cordy the rest of the way through Angel’s door and swiftly relocked it. He prayed Buffy hadn’t noticed the other woman. One look at her face told him, no one was listening to his prayers.


*************************************************************
TBC…soon.
 

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