Chapter Sixty.

The Lady Vanishes.


All through the comedy routine Buffy smiled and laughed as if she were having the time of her life. The comic was good and the supporting magic act was cleverly and deceptively predictable. The foolishly inept magician fumbled through his tricks, messing up through most of them but always managed to the delight of the audience, to create a truly amazing trick, drawing loud gasps and louder applause from the guests.


Yet it was Buffy who was the real act, inside she was sick with worry and tormented with strange thoughts and feelings. What if Spike isn’t able to secure the new businesses? He didn’t tell me how large a percentage of the businesses he’d need to secure, to be considered a success? Did Masters send that man here for Angel? But Spike was adamant the other day that Masters didn’t say anything about collecting Angel, but what if he lied to me? And he said he was here to make sure I kept that appointment with Marco Firelli, but what if Masters has sent for me as well? A million questions raced through her overloaded mind…and she laughed at the entertainers in time with everyone else, not even knowing what she was laughing at.


Though she mostly hid it, Wesley was aware of Buffy’s anxiety. He’d spent a lot of time with her recently and he was able to pick up on a few of her nervous little habits…and she was definitely nervous now. She was twisting her little fingers together and biting her lip unconsciously, a sure sign she was stressed. Gently, he lifted one of her hands off her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. She smiled at him gratefully.


“Do you think he’s right? Will everything be alright?” She whispered.


“Yes, absolutely,” he said confidently. “Spike knew this was a risk…a big risk, but he also knows his stuff…he’s not stupid Buffy. I won’t lie to you and say there’s no danger because you know there is, but we’ve all done as much as is possible to make this thing work.” He leaned nearer and lowered his voice a little more. “Just look around you at all these people Buffy both you and Spike have practically had them eating out of your hands. I watched you both…just to see if I could gauge the mood of the people you were talking to and I can honestly say just about everyone was charmed, impressed and surprised by the pair of you. Yes Buffy, I think everything will be alright, and when Spike gets back, the potential clients will have an hour to think over his proposal while everyone enjoys more dancing and then the fireworks. It won’t take us long to count the votes. We’ll know quite quickly if we’ve pulled it off.” He patted her hand comfortingly.


“Yes, you’re right…it’s just – NO, you’re right,” she told herself firmly. “A couple more hours and – and – Oh God Wesley, I don’t know what I should be hoping for,” she burst out, clutching his hand, anguished and lost. “If he fails, I’m as good as dead and if he succeeds, I’m as good as his hostage forever – and I’m so confused…I don’t know what I should be thinking or feeling about him, but I don’t think it’s the things I do think and feel. I thought I loved Angel…I mean really loved him, but how could I when Spike – and sometimes I think he hates me. He’s never said it, but sometimes he looks at me like he hates me…and I still feel…feel–”


She stopped abruptly, staring perplexed at the tabletop. Wesley waited to see if she would continue with her outburst. When she didn’t he gently prompted her. “What Buffy, you still feel…what?”


She looked at him, startled and he realized she hadn’t meant to say any of those things to him. He was a bit confused as to what she had said. It seemed to be just broken random thoughts and worries but he was sure if he had enough time, he could figure out what she was trying to say.


He squeezed her hand again. “You hope he succeeds, because even if he keeps you as a hostage for the rest of your life, it still wouldn’t be as bad as what Masters would do to you,” he told her. “Now let’s try and enjoy the rest of the show while we wait for Spike.”


She gave him a nod and a weak smile. “How much longer?” she asked.


Wesley knew she meant how much longer before Spike came back. He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes.”


She nodded and gripped his hand tighter for a moment before releasing him. Outwardly composed, Buffy struggled once again with her racing thoughts. It’s only natural to feel afraid, not just for the outcome of the meeting, but for myself too…but why should I care if Spike does at times hate me…though that can’t possibly be true…he’d never tie himself to someone he really hates. But what does he really feel for me…lust…obviously, but affection too…he said he felt affection for me when he asked me to be his mistress…and tonight…the diamonds…he said they were a symbol of his affection. Yet, he bought them weeks ago…how long has he felt like this about me…when did he come to realize he felt this affection. And what the hell does he mean by ‘affection’ anyway?


“It can’t mean more,” she mumbled to herself. Alarmed, she glanced over at Wesley, but he hadn’t heard her, the noise inside the marquee was loud enough to cover her softly spoken words.


This is madness, Spike is probably just being truthful when he says he feels affection for me…he probably thinks lust and sex equal affection. I don’t think he’s capable of anything deeper.


As soon as the thought slipped through her mind, she knew it to be a lie. Spike had loved and cared for Drusilla with a fierce devotion, even in the face of her illness, he hadn’t stopped caring for her. His deep sense of devotion to her had enabled him to continue to constantly seek to find her the best care possible. Buffy wondered if Angel had gone to such lengths when he placed Dru in the clinic in France. She remembered Spike’s anguished features as he gazed around at Doctor Chambers’ clinic and realized he had to let Dru go. Buffy vividly recalled that it had taken him three attempts to sign the paperwork. His hand had shaken so badly.


Okay, so he is capable of deeper feelings…but Drusilla was the exception…he loved her. Like I loved Angel, but what does that mean? How is it even possible to love someone in the way I loved Angel only to have it destroyed…how can I even compare what I felt for Angel with what I feel for Spike?


The question seemed so simple, but the implications of it rocked her. For a moment, Buffy felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her. Vehemently, she denied the turn her mind was taking. Angrily, she pushed the thoughts away, refusing to allow herself to consider having feelings of any kind for Spike.


Anger, loathing and disgust…that’s all I feel for him. He’s a monster…cold and black hearted. Look at all the horrible and terrible things he’s done. No one in their right mind could possibly have feelings for a man like that.


Yet, the thin and reedy voice of another Buffy, whispered treason in her mind, betraying and battling her defiant thoughts, reminding her, of all the other times when he had been kind, gentle and tender with her.


This is dangerous, I can’t allow myself to be swayed by a few soft moments…Spike is and always will be a monster…he’ll never change. Okay, so he can be very nice…pleasant…and even ‘affectionate’ towards me, when the mood suits him, but that doesn’t mean I should think it means anything more, or that I can ever feel anything for him.


Words spoken, weeks before rolled up from the recesses of her mind and she again remembered the afternoon Spike had asked her to become his mistress. His words echoed again in her mind. “Who knows, if you give me a chance you might come to feel some small measure of affection for me. I already know I do for you…and believe me Buffy if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be offerin’ you all this.”


She argued with herself that she didn’t want to give him a chance, but she wondered why that hurt. The weeks working alongside of him, preparing for the reception had brought them closer together. For once, she put aside their sex life and allowed herself to think about Spike as just a man, working towards a goal. Luke was right, Spike was fair and generous with his men and Buffy realized he was as quick to laugh as he was to lose his temper, but most of the time, it only appeared in bursts; rarely did he lose it completely and she, like his men, had learned to distract or divert most of his childish tantrums with quiet reason or sound advice. Most of the time he would back down…sheepishly looking at everyone for understanding. Buffy wondered why she had never realized that before.


Because I was too busy pushing and goading him…I should never have mentioned Angel…I knew it would send him over the top…and yet I did it, knowing he would most likely explode…How will I ever face Cordy again? She must hate us all. But why does Spike always react so violently when I bring up Angel? Well, it probably doesn’t help that it’s always in comparison to our sex life…no guy is going to like it when the woman he’s with keeps bringing up the ex…and Spike hates Angel, no doubt about that. But why? There’s more, I just know it, but Spike will never tell me…not while we’re still constantly fighting. What could he mean when he said…“It makes me whatever Angel made me into?” His face had been so full of hate when he said that…but there was also pain. Why? And why should I care?


This is stupid, asking stupid questions that have no sensible answers. I shouldn’t do this to myself. Aren’t things bad enough without me adding to the complete and utter insanity my life has become? Look around you Buffy…you’re sitting in a room full of people next to your lover’s bodyguard. Spike ordered him to watch me…even told him he would kill him with his bare hands if he let anything happen to me…NO…That’s not right…I must have heard him wrong. He must have said, he would kill him if I ran away or…or…


Buffy knew she was lying to herself. Spike had told Wesley to guard her with his life and that he would pay with his own, if he failed. He’d pulled her out of Ritt’s arms and she had seen fear in his eyes…fear for her. Last night too, at Marco’s party she’d seen the look of fear in his eyes. He feared for her…for her safety…for her life and for her wellbeing. Oh God! She rubbed her fingertips over her brow, trying to erase the pain that was building between her eyes.


She sighed and turned her attention back to the stage.


*****


Spike sighed and turned his attention back to the men behind him. Luke was standing close to Ritt. Cooper, Gilbey and Marti were spaced out more evenly.


Cooper was the first to approach him. “Well, all we can do now is wait and see. They’ve got an hour,” Spike told Cooper. “God I need a drink,” he mumbled and nodded at one of the guests filing past them.


Some of the men were filling in their ballot papers…sure they had made their minds up already. Others were breaking off from the main group, into smaller clusters…discussing his proposals no doubt. Suddenly, Spike needed to breathe. He had done all he could and now he just wanted to escape the room and find Buffy. He glanced at Ritt. What should he do with him? He couldn’t rightly send him back down to Angel again, and he didn’t want to let him loose among his guests either, but he didn’t see any other choice without causing a major scene.


He waved the assassin over. “Come with me,” he told him. Ritt fell in beside him and his men followed at a discreet distance. “I’m going back outside to mingle with this lot but, the evenin’ is jus’ about done and I don’t need you causin’ any trouble of any kind with anyone, do I make myself clear?”


Ritt smiled and looked about at the milling crowds of people all dressed in their finest. He could hear the music starting up again and a few people were already on the dance floor. In the distance, he caught sight of Buffy in her red dress. She was dancing with Wesley. “Don’t worry about me Spike, I’ll just find a pretty girl to dance with.” He started to move towards the dance floor, but Spike caught his arm.


“Glad to hear it, and as you can see, there’s dozens of right pretty girls to choose from…but you stay away from Buffy…she’s off limits,” Spike said coldly.


Ritt chuckled. “But you know how I love pushing the limits and she’s–”


“I fuckin’ mean it, go near her…now…tonight…or any time while you’re ‘ere and I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to the same fuckin’ shark Angel fed his book man to,” Spike growled.


“Wow! Spike, graphic…besides, what are you getting so worked up about…I thought you said she was just a fuck.”


“Yes, but she’s my fuck and I’ve done with sharin’ so you stay away from her…she’s mine…ask Angel. Only this mornin’ he heard her scream my name as I fucked her.” He glared long and hard at Ritt, conveying his seriousness.


Ritt had heard something from the men guarding Angel about Spike locking Buffy down in the holding rooms and forcing her to have sex with him, while Angel listened in, but Ritt couldn’t help wondering exactly what Spike’s feelings were for the girl. He certainly wasn’t convinced she was just a ‘fuck’ as Spike claimed.


Spike called over to his men. “Luke…Marti, keep Ritt company. Gilbey get back to security. Cooper with me.” He strode off in the direction of the dance floor with his eyes focused on Buffy’s red dress.


Wesley saw him approaching and slowed down. Buffy felt her heart lurch in her chest and turned to watch Spike draw nearer. He smiled at her, a big warm smile that reached his eyes and melted her.


He laughed at their serious expressions and joked. “I hope you’re not makin’ any moves on my girl Wesley.”


Buffy remembered hearing him say that before and so did Wesley. They both laughed nervously, though Buffy remembered she hadn’t found it funny the first time.


“Why the long faces? It’s a party…and you Ms. Summers,” he was directly in front of her now and he caught her hand and slipped an arm around her waist, tugging her to him. “Owe me a dance. In fact, I might make you dance with me all night.” He whisked her onto the dance floor, making her giggle as he spun her around and around.


She was laughing and smiling when he stopped and began to move her to the music properly. “I think the musicians might object to you keeping them here all night,” she laughed.


Spike smirked at her. “That wasn’t the kind of dancin’ I had in mind kitten, but if you want to do it to music, we could always slip something on the stereo.”


She blushed and he laughed.


“Are you going to tell me how it went?” she asked, nervously.


He looked at her, wishing he could hold this moment forever. She was so beautiful and he wanted her so much.


“It went good pet. There were lots of positive questions and they seemed interested. Some were hard to read, but on the whole, it went really well, but we won’t know for sure until we’ve done the count,” he told her.


He couldn’t tell if she was relieved or anxious. She looked relaxed, but there was a small frown marring her brow.


“Look at me Buffy.” She gazed up at him. “For the next hour, I’m going to wrap you in my arms and move you to the music, then I’m going to sit you on my knee and we’ll watch the fireworks together. Then, we’re going to say goodnight to our guests and I’m going to leave you for a little, while I get the count on the ballot papers. Then I’m callin’ Masters, and then Ms. Summers, I’m going to go upstairs…where I better find you lyin’ on my bed wearin’ that dress…” he trailed off.


She smiled and arched a brow at him. “And then what happens?”


He nibbled on her neck. “And then we make it up as we go along.”


Buffy really liked the sound of that. “But what about your unexpected guest?”


Spike stiffened. Fuck, I forgot about him. He looked around and found Ritt’s eyes on them, FUCK. Buffy’s eyes followed his and Ritt smiled at her. “Don’t worry ‘bout him, he won’t bother us,” he said.


“Then if I’m not to worry about him…why are you?”


Spike chuckled. She wasn’t going to let him get away with it. “Well I suppose you do need an explanation, but now is neither the right time nor the right place, so can we save it for later or better still tomorrow? I jus’ want to hold you and dance with you.”


She smiled and laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. “Yeah, we can do that.”


Spike felt her melt against him. He shot a smug smirk in Ritt’s direction, whereas inside, he was overjoyed with her response.


He made a decision. “Buffy?”


“Hmmm,” she murmured against his chest.


“I want to talk to you later…there are some things I want you to know. If Masters grants me my reward, I want us to try and start afresh…and…and if we can…I want to tell you…” He glanced down at her and lost his nerve.


She was gazing at him with confused frightened eyes. Spike wondered why his request to try and start over should make her feel afraid. Sighing, he smiled at her and pulled her back in close to his chest. “It’s alright kitten…it’s nothing important, just me being daft. It’s been a long day…we’ll talk tomorrow…or the day after, when we get to the cabin…okay?”


She nodded. She couldn’t understand why her eyes were suddenly filling with tears. He wanted to talk…nothing strange in that…not for Spike, but somehow Buffy knew this talk would be very different from all the others. Rapidly, she blinked the tears back.


*****


The hour passed much quicker than either of them thought possible. They were startled apart by the first loud bang and brilliant flash of color in the night sky. They made their way to the seating area and Spike, being as good as his word, pulled her down onto his knee and held her tight as they watched the fireworks. Buffy blushed; feeling more than one pair of eyes on them. Spike hadn’t made any obvious gestures, other than the kiss on the dance floor that actually drew attention to them, but now she was sitting on his knee. She knew he was making a very loud and very obvious statement to everyone who cared to look their way and much to Buffy’s embarrassment, lots of people did.


At first, she struggled on his lap, but he whispered a very rude and dirty suggestion in her ear, which made her gasp and sit very still, her eyes large and bright with shock. When she next looked up, it was to find Ritt’s eyes on her again. She blushed deeply and turned her head away quickly when she saw his knowing look. She realized he thought Spike had subdued her in some way and she wondered if that was what Spike had intended. This man had been sent by Masters and Spike had told her often enough he needed to be seen treating her as a hostage and she needed to be seen hating it, though doing that was also much harder when they were trying to convince a large proportion of these people into joining them.


She glanced up. Ritt was still looking at her. Spike dragged a rough finger down her back, making her shiver. She looked at him.


His eyes were dark with desire. “Want you kitten…want you right now,” she gasped and blushed, mortified by his heated whisper. “What would you do if I slipped my hand into your dress and fondled your bum right now?”


She looked horrified. Spike laughed. “Please Spike…someone will hear you,” she implored, glancing to either side of them at the people sitting closest to them. Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying any attention to them, except for Ritt, but he was too far away to hear.


“But you’ve got a right pretty bum pet and no one’s watching,” he coaxed.


Buffy thought she was going to go up in flames. She shook her head and glared at him. Spike chuckled and rubbed her back lightly, making her squirm all over again.


“Okay, give me a kiss then and I’ll behave…right ‘ere,” he pointed to the side of his mouth as he smirked at her. “C’mon pet jus’ one kiss and I’ll let you finish watchin’ all the pretty fireworks.”


She looked at him suspiciously, but knew she didn’t really have any choice and besides, the naughty little boy look, so full of fake innocence still managed to melt her anyway. She smiled at his silly grin and arched a shapely brow at him in mock reproof. Slowly and deliberately, she brought her mouth to his. The kiss was thankfully short and as kisses go for them, quite tame but Buffy still felt it all the way to her toes. Spike smiled at her smugly and squeezed her. Blushing, she watched the sky.


Spike knew fine well Ritt was watching them and he’d deliberately coaxed Buffy into giving him the kiss just to try and show him, he had Buffy’s full attention, even though she’d been reluctant at first. It seemed to work, but Spike didn’t like that Ritt was still looking at her.


*****


The last of the guests had gone…all except for Thomas Taylor and his grandson. Tom was arranging to have Spike and Buffy over for lunch. Well, he’d tried to persuade Buffy to ditch Spike and dine with him on her own, but Spike laughed and said if he really wanted Buffy’s company, Tom would have to put up with him as well, because where she goes he goes, but he might be persuaded to bring a book and pretend to read if he wanted to flirt with her.


Buffy laughed at the two men and joked it should be her who brought the book and let them flirt with each other. Both men looked outraged and warned her they would find a way to make her pay for the remark. Buffy had a good feeling about the two of them. She could tell Tom liked Spike and she could see Spike, who was willing on principle to dislike the old man, liked him despite himself.


When Tom finally climbed into his car and bid them a goodnight, it was with a firm date fixed for lunch. Buffy and Spike sighed.


He turned her in his arms and kissed her lightly. “I need to do the count now pet and I’d take you with me, but it won’t look right if I do…so Wesley will take you upstairs and wait with you until I’m finished, okay?”


She nodded. “Are you going to call Masters right away?”


“Yes, but I’ll be as quick as I can…Wesley escort Buffy upstairs and stay put until I get back.” Spike turned to the house and joined Cooper on the stairs. They both vanished into the house.


“Okay, shall we go?” Wesley asked.


“Er…yeah, in just a moment, I wanted to say thank you to Oz’s friend before he goes…do you mind?” She looked towards the marquee and spotted Dale the musician, who for a portion of the evening had entertained the guests. He was talking to a pretty waitress who was helping with the clean up. “Oh there he is…I’ll be real quick.”


Wesley shrugged and thought what the harm, and followed her over.


Buffy, Wesley and Dale ended up talking for a lot longer than they intended but, Buffy helped Dale persuade the waitress ‘Marie’ to give him her phone number, so Dale was more than happy to have her interrupt his attempts to pick Marie up.


Wesley and Buffy were making their way back up to the house when Gilbey materialized out of nowhere, startling both of them.


He glared at them. “Spike wants her back upstairs now,” he snapped.


Buffy looked at Gilbey, alarmed. “Is there something wrong?” she asked the scarred man.


“I don’t know…all I know is he did the count and he’s not happy and then he went upstairs and you weren’t there and now he’s mad, shouting and yelling at everyone. So you best get up there right quick before he starts shooting people,” he replied gruffly.


Buffy shared a concerned look with Wesley. He looked as frightened as she felt. Something must have gone wrong…the count must have come out against us. Oh God! Despite all that hard work, we’ve failed. Buffy was terrified. What was going to happen to her now?


Gilbey led the way back up to the house and Wesley stopped him when he turned to use the garage entrance. “Stop! Why are we going this way?” Wesley demanded.


Gilbey sneered at him. “Because Ritt is in the main hallway and Spike told me to avoid him, so we’re going in this way and then we’ll go down one flight of stairs and get the elevator from there…satisfied?”


Wesley thought about it for a moment. It made sense. Spike would want them to avoid Ritt, but he still didn’t trust Gilbey. “Okay, but let me get a look first just to make sure the coast is clear. Then if everything is alright…I’ll lead the way. Buffy you stay behind me, but not too close understand, and Gilbey you take rear guard.” He waited for Buffy to nod. She looked terrified.


Gilbey rolled his eyes and hissed at him. “Okay English, get a fucking move on.”


Wesley moved forward cautiously. The garages were empty so he signaled for them to follow him. In single file, they crossed the garage floor. Half way to the door that led into the house, they were passing a parked B.M.W when Buffy caught sight of a metallic flash in the window. She turned her head slightly to see what it was when she was struck from behind. She stumbled to the floor and watched, horrified as Gilbey, welding a really large knife, grabbed Wesley from behind and quicker than Buffy could believe, cut Wesley’s throat in one quick wicked slice.


She stared stupefied, as Wesley crumbled to the floor, blood flowing from his neck wound.


“Told you to watch your back,” Gilbey spat at Wesley and turned to Buffy, holding the bloody knife.


She screamed and tried to scuttle away from him. Hissing, Gilbey grabbed her by an arm and hauled her up. As soon as she was on her feet, he punched her on the jaw, instantly silencing her. The blow knocked her out. He caught her in his arms and leaned her against him as he opened the trunk of the B.M.W and shoved her in. He slammed the lid shut and quickly got in behind the wheel and drove off, leaving Wesley for dead on the floor.


*************************************************************
TBS…soon.
 

Chapter Sixty One.

Gone Again.


Luke, Cooper, and Spike had just finished going through the papers for a second time. Ritt was sitting on the couch quietly observing. The silence was electric. They looked at each other, Luke at Spike, Cooper at Spike and Spike at both of them. Slowly big grins spread across their faces as it sunk in just how well they’d done. The count was much better than Spike could have hoped for. He’d been getting good vibes from a lot of the guests all night but he hadn’t let himself hope, but now the evidence was before him and he couldn’t help grinning and neither could Luke and Cooper.


Spike rose from his seat behind the desk and poured them all a large drink. He was in such a good mood, he even poured one for Ritt. Spike had anticipated they might secure half of the businesses, but they’d done much better than that. Out of the one hundred and twelve men invited to join them, only seven had declined, which made the evening a resounding success.


Cooper was the first one to break the silence. “So now you call Masters, right?” He said, eagerly.


“Yeah, I’ll finish my drink and give him a call.” Spike glanced at Ritt on the couch. “When he hears my good news, I’m sure it’ll stop that twitchin’ he’s been sufferin’ with so much lately.”


Ritt smirked at them. “I’m sure you’re right, congratulations.”


Spike snorted. “Now, as everythin’ went so well, I’m sure you can tell I won’t be needin’ you to watch my back anymore. Cooper will take you to the first floor and give you a room. If you need anything, you can call down to the kitchen…someone will see to you.”


Ritt smirked at the dismissal, but rose from the couch regardless. “Tell Masters I’ll be waiting for his orders,” he said, effectively reminding Spike he was here for more than one reason.


Spike just smirked, right back. “Cooper, when you’re done showin’ Ritt to his room, find Gilbey and meet me down in the holdin’ rooms. I need to see everyone together.”


“Yes, boss.” He was still grinning.


As the door closed behind them, Spike looked at Luke. “We’ve done it, I can hardly believe we ‘ave…but we ‘ave. Buffy’s going to be so relieved and Masters will ‘ave to see how valuable she’ll be on a long term basis.”


“Is that what you’re going to push for…to keep her here permanently with his blessing?” Luke asked.


“That and more, but I don’t want to say too much before I talk to him and give him my news.” His expression changed to a dark scowl. “I’ll be takin’ care of Gilbey tonight and I want you, Coop and Dixon there, but no one else. So get young Marti to watch Angel. Wesley’s with Buffy upstairs so that takes care of him.” He drained the rest of his glass and pulled the phone towards him. “Watch the door while I make my call and contact security, make sure they do a final sweep to make sure there’s no one lurking about that shouldn’t be.” Luke headed for the door.


Spike waited a few moments before dialing. He thought through what he wanted to say, but words failed him. Best to just get on with it and hope for the best…or better than the best…Buffy.


It rang three times before Masters picked up. “William.”


Spike smiled, impressed, the old man always knew when it was him. “Yeah, I hope I’m not disturbin’ you,” he said, politely.


Masters’ voice echoed down the line. “No William, I was expecting your call…you have something you want to tell me?”


“Yeah, but first I’d like to know why you didn’t tell me you were sendin’ Ritt to collect Angel?” He waited patiently for the old man’s answer.


“I didn’t tell you William, because I wanted to get an honest view of what’s going on with you. Ritt didn’t make any trouble for you I hope?” He sounded concerned but Spike knew how sincere that was.


“Nothin’ I couldn’t handle. He seemed to think you might ‘ave more orders for him.” Spike wanted to see if Masters would bring Buffy’s name up first.


“It’s a possibility, only time will tell. Now, tell me how your reception went?”


Spike knew an order when he heard it. “I jus’ finished countin’ the votes and I’m pleased to say that we now ‘ave one hundred and five new businesses committed to joinin’ us, though it’ll take a bit of time to sort through everything, but I’m aimin’ to be showin’ growth with all of them by this time next year.” He informed him.


“William my boy that’s wonderful news, you have my congratulations and my gratitude…well done. I suppose this means I’ll have to leave you there to run things permanently, but you’re off to a good start and I’m sure you’ll do a much better job than Angel.” The old man chuckled. “I’ll bring him home William…get him out of your way and let you get on with running things…tell me, did you manage to net Thomas Taylor?”


“No, I didn’t…but Buffy did and the old boy made sure I knew if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t ‘ave cared how good the proposals were.” Spike took full advantage of Masters’ question to advance Buffy’s role in things.


“I see…Ms. Summers is turning out to be quite useful, which is a surprise, but I’m not sure she’s still not a risk,” the old man mused softly.


“Everyone’s a risk but I think she’ll prove to be more useful than troublesome. In fact, I know it but don’t take my word for it…I’ll send you a complete list of all the businesses that ‘ave signed up and you can contact them yourself and get their opinion on her and her efforts to make tonight the resoundin’ success it was.” Spike knew Masters would do that anyway, but it was better if he offered him the chance to do it himself.


“You seem to have quite a bit of faith in her abilities yourself William…is there something I should know?” he asked quietly.


“Yes,” he swallowed and plunged on. “When this started, you told me I could name my own reward.” Spike began.


“I remember.” Masters breathed the words…soft and low like a fading wind that echoed down the line.


Spike kept tight hold of his resolve. “Well I’ve decided I want Buffy as my reward. I want to keep her ‘ere as my Mistress.” There, it was said.


“I see,” there was a long, cold silent pause.


Spike felt as if there was a live snake caught in his gut…twisting and turning him in knots as he waited. He gripped the phone tightly.


“William, Ms. Summers is a dangerous young woman. She’s already caused me more trouble than any single individual ever has before. She is the sole cause of Angel’s downfall and now you’re asking me to give her to you as a reward…as your mistress no less…William have you really thought this through…Angel’s life was ruined because of this woman?” Masters coldly questioned him.


“Yes, I’ve thought it through completely. Angel is going back to New York, but you’ll still need to ‘ave somethin’ over him…somethin’ to keep him in line and I can think of nothin’ better than Buffy, the woman he loves. He’ll be there with you. She’ll be ‘ere with me…both of them havin’ to behave themselves in order to ensure the others continued safety and good health.” Spike hoped Masters would buy it. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you how bad things were for me when I discovered he took Dru. Well, that wasn’t the first time he’s gone out of his way to get at me. When he disappeared, you asked me to find him and you told me I couldn’t kill him…that we needed to make him suffer. Well I did find him and I didn’t kill him, but as far as I’m concerned he hasn’t suffered enough. I deserve my revenge and I’ll ‘ave it everyday through Buffy, ‘cause Angel will be there with you wonderin’ if I’m treatin’ her good or if she’s happy, and I’ll be satisfied knowin’ I ‘ave the one thing in the world he wants more than anythin’ else. And Angel will behave himself because he knows he’ll ‘ave no choice, and Buffy won’t be able to cause any trouble of any kind ‘cause she’ll be with me twenty-four hours a day.”


Masters listened to Spike, but he still wasn’t satisfied. Quietly he said, “And it’s the fact that she’ll be with you twenty-four hours a day that worries me William. She’ll be into every area of your life…your work. She’ll have access to things that could be potentially dangerous and if she ever decided Angel’s life wasn’t worth as much as doing the right thing, then what would you do?”


“It’ll never happen. I’m more cautious than that and besides, there’s more than jus’ Angel’s safety she holds dear. So even if she ever got the urge to be a ‘white hat’ again, I think the threat of anythin’ happenin’ to her friends and family would be enough to prevent her from makin’ any errors in judgment.”


Masters sighed. “Yes maybe so, but is it really revenge on Angel you want or her?” He insisted.


Spike didn’t hesitate. He knew if he told him he was only interested in revenge Masters would know he was lying. “Both…I want both. I want my revenge on Angel for all the things he made me suffer through all those years and I want it through Buffy, because she’s beautiful and desirable and because Angel loves her. I won’t lie to you and say I wouldn’t be interested in her if she wasn’t the perfect way to make Angel suffer, but I ‘ave to admit jus’ knowin’ I’ve got what he wants, makes me all smug and content.”


Masters tried to dissuade him…and tempt him. “You could choose anything William, money…property…property and money, you could even ask me to name you as my successor, and I would…but you tell me you want this woman?” Masters said in amazement.


“Yes, I want her and I want her safety assured. She’ll be my mistress so I’ll want her standin’ in the family secured. I want Angel to know you approve, and even give me your blessin’ ‘cause that’ll make it all the sweeter.” Spike prayed that would be enough to convince the old letch his intentions were mainly driven by revenge.


Masters sighed heavily. “Very well William…she’s yours. I’ll give her to you as your reward with my approval and blessing, and I personally guarantee her safety for as long as Angel behaves himself,” Masters paused. “I suppose this means you won’t be sharing her with Marco?”


“Not a chance in hell…she’s mine and I won’t be sharin’ her with anyone, and I’d appreciate it if you were to tell Marco that,” Spike said adamantly.


Masters didn’t sound too happy. “Hmm…yes, of course, I’ll take care of it. I think I understand…does she know?”


“Yes, I told her I intended to ask you tonight. She wasn’t very happy about it, but when I told her the alternative, she was even less happy,” Spike chuckled. “But she’ll come round…I’m learnin’ there are plenty of ways in which to coax and persuade her.”


Masters laughed at that. “Well it sounds as if you have everything in hand William…I wish you luck with the girl…enjoy your revenge. Now we need to discuss Angel’s return, but it can wait until tomorrow…you’ve had a busy day and there’ll be lots more in the near future. So go get some rest and break the news to your mistress…or will you break the news to Angel first?”


Spike thought about that. “How ‘bout I let you tell him when he arrives back in New York.”


Masters laughed again. “Yes, I like that idea William…I like it a lot.”


“Good, I’ll say goodnight then and thank you for my reward.” He knew he sounded smug but he didn’t care. He felt smug.


“Goodnight William, we’ll talk tomorrow and make arrangements for Angel.”


The two men hung up.


Spike sat back, trying to take it all in. Buffy was his…Buffy was his and he could declare it openly. She was safe…really safe. There were one hundred and five new businesses under his control, Angel was going back to Masters and Buffy was his. He was overjoyed.


*****


The sound of shouting coming from the hallway filtered through the happy haze of Spike’s brain. The voices were getting closer, sounding louder and more frantic…and angry. Alarmed, Spike was half way to the door when Luke burst through without knocking. Cooper pushed passed him, covered in blood. Spike’s first thought was that Ritt had attacked him, but then he realized if Ritt had attacked him, he wouldn’t be standing. Spike looked closer and could see the blood merely coated his hands.


There were men milling about in the hallway, struggling with a body slung on a makeshift stretcher. Blood dripped from underneath the blanket the body was supported in, splashing onto the black polished floor.


Spike heard Cooper’s voice, but he couldn’t focus on the words over the hissing noise that was roaring in his head. He strode forward towards the body. He looked down at the pale and lifeless corpse of Wesley.


“Buffy,” he whispered.


His eyes snapped up to Cooper’s. “Where’s Buffy?”


“Marti’s gone to check your suite.”


Luke came out of Spike’s study. “The Doc’s on his way.” He leaned over Wesley. “He’s still alive…QUICK,” he snapped at the men holding him. “Bring him into the study.”


Spike’s head swiveled to Wesley. He was astonished he was alive. Spike was sure he was a dead man. Quickly, he swept the contents of his desk to the floor, scattering ballot papers and office equipment everywhere. “Here…put him ‘ere…someone fetch some gauze.”


One of the men left to do his bidding, but Spike, seeing the vicious neck wound, quickly ripped the curtain from its pole and bunched the fabric up, staunching the flow and applying firm pressure. Looking up into Cooper’s face, he asked. “What the fuck happened, and where is Buffy? Did Ritt–”


“No, he’s safely tucked in a room on the first floor,” Cooper reassured him. “Dave was doing a sweep of the house when he found Wesley.”


Spike fixed his hard gaze on Dave. “Well?”


“Sir, I was checking the exits when I found the garage doors wide open…when I went in to check, I found Wesley lying in a pool of blood with his throat cut.”


“And Buffy?”


“Sorry boss, there was no sign of Ms. Summers, but one of the cars is missing…the B.M.W I think.”


Marti rushed into the room. “She’s not on the top floor and no one’s seen her since before you came in to count the ballots,” he informed the room.


Spike felt an icy fist grip his heart.


“Check with the gate…find out who was drivin’ that car. Luke, call Dixon…check to make sure everythin’ is okay with him and instruct him he’s to enforce a lock in down there…that’s no one in and no one out of the holdin’ rooms until further orders from either of us,” Luke nodded and reached for the phone on Buffy’s desk. “Someone go find Gilbey…and Cooper, go get Ritt…don’t tell him what’s happened…jus’ bring him to your office and wait for me…I’ll be with you as soon as the Doc gets ‘ere.” Cooper vanished out the door. “Marti…Marti,” Spike tried to get the young man’s attention…he was talking to someone on a walkie-talkie.


Marti looked up with a puzzled expression on his face. “Boss the guys at the gate say it was Gilbey driving the B.M.W.”


The icy fist squeezed a bit tighter.


Luke turned and looked at him from his post at Buffy’s desk, halting for a moment in his conversation with Dixon. The two men shared a loaded look. Then Luke started talking on the phone again.


Spike gazed down at Wesley, remembering how he had declared to protect Buffy with his life before he would let anyone hurt her. Suddenly, Spike was tempted to choke the man lying on his desk…if she was hurt, he knew he would see the world burn before he would be satisfied.


A shadow fell across the desk. Looking up, he saw Doctor Bryson standing before him. Quickly, the man pushed Spike’s hands away, examining the wound.


“He’s lost a lot of blood and I need to get him to my clinic if he’s to have a fighting chance,” he stated quietly. Spike nodded. The doctor snapped at Dave. “There’s a stretcher in the back of the ambulance…go fetch it…you,” he snapped at one of the other men. “Hold this…firm pressure and don’t ease up.” The man stepped up to the desk and took over Spike’s place to apply pressure to Wesley’s wound. The doctor fumbled in his bag pulling out a syringe and a glass vile of some medication or other. Spike watched with hooded eyes as the doctor went through the motions of saving Wesley’s life.


Luke approached. “Everything is good with Dixon,” he informed his boss.


Spike addressed the doctor. “I’ll leave Wesley in your care. Do everythin’ you can for him.” Doctor Bryson nodded not even looking at the blonde man as he injected Wesley with the syringe.


Spike turned his back on the injured man and strode out of the study across the hall into Cooper’s office, with Luke close on his heels. As he opened the door, he heard Ritt’s voice asking Cooper where all the blood had come from…by the tone of his question, it wasn’t the first time he was asking.


“It’s from Wesley,” Spike told him as he moved deeper into the room. “It looks like Gilbey cut his throat right before he kidnapped Buffy.”


Luke closed the door.


Ritt looked at the blood smeared on Spike’s hands and clothes. “I see, why did he take her? Is he in love with her too…or was he just rescuing her from you?”


Spike fixed him with a glare. “He took a B.M.W about twenty…maybe thirty minutes ago…the men at the gate saw him leave, but they didn’t see any sign of Buffy…so she was probably either on the floor in the back or in the trunk…and its safe to say she wouldn’t ‘ave gone willingly…he’d ‘ave had to force her…” he paused and looked at Luke. “Get Masters back on the phone…explain what’s happened and tell him I need to use Ritt to help find her.” Luke reached for the phone.


Ritt had more questions. “What makes you think he’ll agree to that?”


Spike eyes didn’t flicker. “Because when I got off the phone with him, it was with his personal guarantee for her safety and his approval that I had claimed Buffy as my mistress.” That seemed to have a surprising affect on the assassin.


“So…all that talk about her just being a fuck–”


“She’s a lot more to me than that…she’s more to me than any woman I’ve ever known,” Spike snapped.


Ritt nodded. “I thought as much. And what? Masters just gave her to you, even though she caused all that trouble with Angel?”


“Yes…she’s mine, and Gilbey took her and I want her back…now I want to know if you’re going to help?” Spike knew asking the assassin for help was a mistake he would never make under normal circumstances and if possible, Ritt would make him pay dearly.


“If Masters tells me he approves then…sure…but I name my own price,” he replied coolly.


Spike glanced at Luke as Cooper pushed a drink into his hand. Luke handed the phone to Ritt. “He wants to talk to you.”


Spike watched as Ritt listened to Masters on the other end of the line. Silently, he handed the phone back to Luke.


“Okay, Masters said I was to put myself at your disposal…but I still get to name my own price.” Spike clenched his fists, his jaw twitching. “Now don’t go getting all worked up…I’ll help you find your girl, but for a price…you know I’m not on the books, but you’ll agree to my terms or I don’t help.”


Angry but desperate, Spike barked, “Fine…I don’t care what you charge…I jus’ want her back…alive.”


Ritt raised a brow at that. “And what makes you think he might want her dead…is he insane?”


Spike caught Luke’s eye. “Yes…most likely he is insane.”


Cooper cleared his throat. They all looked at him. “You better tell him about the hooker,” he told Spike.


Suddenly, Spike remembered Luke telling him about the other two hookers Gilbey had tortured. “Luke, get Trick on the phone and find out if those girls remembered anythin’ more about that apartment Gilbey took them too…” Luke reached for the phone again. “Wait…did they get relocated yet?”


“I don’t think so boss.”


“Okay, get a man down there and pick them up and bring them back ‘ere…I want answers,” Spike told him.


“I’ll go myself…it’ll be quicker…I know what they look like and Trick is less likely to mess me around,” Spike nodded his approval. “I’ll be as quick as I can…I’ll call Trick from my cell phone it’ll save some time.” He left quickly.


“Well it looks like you better tell me what’s been going on.” Ritt stated.


Spike and Cooper looked steadily at the man sitting calmly in his chair. Spike placed his untouched glass on the desk. He wanted to keep a clear head. Seeing the dried blood on his hands, he glanced at Cooper’s hands, noticing the same red, brown stains encrusting his fingers.


“Okay, but I need to wash and change…so does Cooper. Follow me.” He led the way back into the hall. Spike could see Marti supervising a couple of men in the clean up of his study. The desk was empty…Wesley was gone…most likely with Doctor Bryson.


“Marti…I’m going up to the top floor, but I’ll be back in five minutes…once you’ve finished in there, gather all the crew and wait for me here.” Marti nodded and Spike called the elevator.


*****


Back in his suite, Spike began the lengthy retelling of what Gilbey had been up to. He didn’t leave anything out. It wasn’t necessary. He had nothing to hide from Ritt and it didn’t serve any purpose in simply glossing over things. As Spike expected, Ritt didn’t turn a hair at the gruesome tale. Spike knew the hired killer had seen and done a lot worse to his victims in his time. The only difference being, Ritt only killed those he was paid to kill and usually in the manner the client required.


Spike was leaning over the basin in his bathroom washing Wesley’s blood from his hands and face. He stripped to the waist and told Ritt about Gilbey’s most recent victims.


Ritt was propped against the bathroom door. He scanned the contents of the room, noticing all the different bottles of body lotion, face cream and a dozen other girly type things that Buffy had arranged on one side of the vanity unit. He glanced over his shoulder into the bedroom Spike obviously shared with his mistress. On one side of the bed, there was a navy satin robe draped over the footboard and a small fuzzy pink pig sat on the bedside table. He smiled at the contrast in the two items, one declaring Buffy as a grown woman, soft and sensual and the other reminding the world that there was still a part of her that was just a little girl. Ritt thought it very much like Spike to fall for a woman of such beguiling duality. His eyes flickered back to Spike. He was drying off with a fresh towel. Ritt moved out of his way as he went back into the bedroom.


“Now if we can jus’ get those hookers to give us somethin’ on that apartment he took them to, we might get lucky and track him down.” Spike slid the wardrobe door aside and reached in to get a clean pair of jeans and a black t-shirt.


Ritt followed him into the room. He picked up Buffy’s robe from the end of the bed and let the silky fabric slide through his fingers. He watched Spike strip off his pants, unconcerned at his own nudity or the fact that there was someone else in the room with him. He was clearly in too big of a rush to care. While Spike was distracted, Ritt took the opportunity to look about the rest of the room. He brought the satin robe to his face and breathed in the scent of its owner, as he rubbed the cool material over his cheek. The dressing table held a neat display of cosmetics and hair jewelry. Buffy was obviously a girly girl and Spike was allowing her to have complete use of the spaces she’d claimed as her own. There was a framed picture of an older woman and a young girl sitting to one side. The woman’s resemblance to Buffy was striking. Ritt guessed she must be her mother, which meant the young girl was her sister. Another framed picture sat next to it. This one was of Buffy surrounded by a small group of friends. She looked joyously happy and full of life; very different from the young woman he’d danced with earlier. Lost in his thoughts about the pretty blonde, Ritt didn’t hear Spike come up behind him and angrily snatch the robe from his hands.


“Don’t touch her stuff,” he snapped. Gently, Spike placed the robe back over the footboard where Buffy always kept it in readiness. He glanced at her dressing table scanning the surface to see if he could discover if Ritt had touched anything. “I don’t like you…I’ve never liked you, but if you help me get her back in one piece, I’d be willin’ to bury any differences we’ve had in the past.”


Ritt arched a cool brow at Spike’s heated words. It was as close to a promise he would ever hear from Masters second favorite child. He was offering Ritt the chance to forget about their checkered past. Ritt realized Spike hadn’t just replaced Drusilla, he’d moved on. He felt a pang of something similar to remorse when he thought about all the times Drusilla had sought him out and how it must have wounded Spike…but Spike said he would forget about it all if he just found the woman he obviously loved.


Ritt nodded. “Deal…but I can’t guarantee in what state she’ll be in when she’s found…you do know that?”


“She’ll be alive and she’ll be fine, ‘cause I won’t accept anythin’ else…” he said coldly.


The phone rang, cutting through the heavy silence. Spike snatched it up.


“Yes.”


“I’m nearly at Trick’s place…I phoned ahead and he told me Alyx was there already so I told him to hold on to her…he’s tracking down the other one now,” Luke informed his boss.


“Good…how long do you think you’ll be?”


“Not long…I’ll pick Alyx up and come straight back…Trick can have the other one sent over as soon as he gets hold of her.”


Spike thought about that for a moment. There was no time to delay by waiting for the second hooker…she could be anywhere, though it was most likely she was with a john. Alyx was the girl Gilbey had attacked, but the other one may have noticed more about her surroundings.


“Okay, but make sure Trick finds the other one as quickly as possible.”


“Right boss…I’ll start asking Alyx questions as soon as I can…if I find anything out, I’ll call.”


Luke hung up and Spike turned back to Ritt, tucking his t-shirt in his jeans.


“C’mon, I need to talk to my men.” He ushered Ritt from the bedroom.


*****


Marti had gathered all the men that weren’t down in the holding rooms and assembled them in the large reception room Spike had used to conduct his meeting earlier. The ground crew quickly cleared the rest of the hired staff from off the grounds. Marti instructed them they could come back tomorrow to finish the clean up. He was questioning some of the men when Spike and Ritt walked in.


Spike fixed him with an anxious look. “Where’s Cooper?”


“Still up stairs boss,” Marti answered.


“Okay…” Spike filled his men in on the situation. He asked them if any of them noticed Gilbey acting suspiciously, but no one came forward with anything useful and Spike felt his frustration mounting. He split them into four teams, sending them off into the city to see if they could spot the car Gilbey had taken, and to visit some of the more useful members of the family. Within the next twenty minutes, Spike put the LA branch of the family on full alert. He contacted his sources in the police department and discretely put all the inside men on alert, strongly hinting that if he didn’t get the help he expected, he would personally see that their bosses in the force found out about their association with Masters.


Ritt didn’t stick around any longer than the four teams. He collected a black case from the trunk of his car and brought it into the now clean study. He examined the contents with a critical eye.


“If I find him…I kill him…right?”


Spike looked up from his desk. “Yes…but…”


Ritt arched a brow, wondering why Spike would hesitate. “What…don’t tell me you want me to bring him back as well?”


“No. But…Buffy – I don’t want her to see, but neither do I want him to get off lightly with a quick death…he deserves to suffer.” Spike’s tone was deadly. “If you can, don’t make it quick…but Buffy’s your priority…don’t let her see if you can help it, and remember she’ll be as frightened of you as she is of him, especially after your stupid fuckin’ stunt earlier. I’ve still a good mind to wring your fuckin’ neck for that.”


“And if I have no choice?” The killer asked.


“Then you ‘ave no choice,” Spike deadpanned.


Ritt nodded, snapping the black case shut. “If the situation allows, I’ll call you, but don’t bother trying to call me…my cell will be off.” He picked up his case and quickly strode from the room without a backward glance.


Spike slumped back into his chair, feeling useless and overwhelmed by the whole situation. He wanted to jump up and follow Ritt. He felt like he was crawling out of his skin, but he knew it would be useless to do so until he got word from someone that Gilbey or the car had been found. He needed to stay right where he was. The phone rang. It was Luke. He had picked up the hooker and told Spike to expect him in the next ten minutes.


Spike cursed himself for not getting rid of Gilbey earlier. He should have listened to his instincts and simply shot the bastard when he had him locked in that fucking cell weeks ago. Now, he had Buffy and though Spike was trying very, very hard not to think about what Gilbey had done to those other women, he couldn’t stop the image swimming before his eyes; the dead hooker, spread out naked and drained of blood from multiple knife wounds. After all his promises to keep Buffy safe, to protect her and the very night she was his, he failed her. Dozens of different possible outcomes floated in his mind…none of them good…all of them featuring Buffy frightened, in pain and blaming him for not saving her.


Cooper strode into the room. Spike was immediately on alert. Cooper looked shaken. “Spike you need to come upstairs…there’s something you need to see.”


Spike jumped from his chair and followed Cooper to the elevator.


“What is it?” he asked, anxiously.


Cooper was shaking his head. “You’re not going to like it and I don’t know any other way to tell you other than to give it to you straight,” his friend told him.


“Then get the fuck on with it and tell me,” he demanded, with a sick-sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.


They stepped into the lift and Cooper pressed the button for the first floor. “Gilbey’s been recording Buffy…well both of you…but mostly Buffy.” Cooper glanced at Spike’s furious face. “I thought I’d check his room…see if I could find something useful to help us find her and that’s when I found a locked cupboard…I shot the lock out and found a huge stack of tapes. They were all labeled with Buffy’s name, so I stuck one in the VCR and I hate to say it, but I got to see a lot more of Buffy in thirty seconds than I have in all the time I’ve known her.”


Spike felt rage and anger swell inside him and for the first time since he caught sight of Wesley’s bloody body, he felt his fear diminish in favor of the new and equally powerful emotions surging within him.


With a sense of sick dread, Spike made his way into Gilbey’s room, closely followed by Cooper. There in front of the TV was a small stack of tapes. Spike picked up the remote and clicked the play button. The screen filled with an image of himself and Buffy in the gym shower. Spike didn’t need the volume turned up to hear what was going on. He remembered the day well. Buffy had confided in him that she’d heard him jerking off on their first time in the gym and then proceeded to give him one of the best blowjobs of his life. Spike turned off the tape before it could get that far. He picked up a random tape and placed it in the machine and turned it on.


The picture flickered up. Buffy was standing in front of the bed in their room quickly dressing in a pale blue sundress. Spike stopped the tape and fast forwarded it. The picture reopened. Buffy was lying naked on their bed in the darkened room, her damp hair spread out on a towel. Spike was sitting next to her equally as naked, watching and coaxing her to touch herself. Quickly, he turned off the tape.


He stuck another tape in and an image of Buffy on the balcony filled the screen. It was nighttime, Buffy was standing at the railings scanning the garden as if she were looking for something. He saw himself appear behind her making her jump, and breaking her study of the garden. He watched for a few minutes as they exchanged words…she placed her hands on the railing…he was touching her. Then suddenly, he ripped off the nightgown she was wearing. Spike stopped the tape and fast forwarded it. When he pressed the play button again he could just make out a distant image of himself and Buffy…she was lying naked on the table while he sat in a chair between her open thighs. The image wasn’t very good and Spike figured that Gilbey hadn’t managed to place his camera in the perfect spot for filming the balcony. But it was still enough.


Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed for the first time that Cooper had discreetly retreated into the hallway. On looking around the room…he spotted the cupboard containing the rest of the tapes. There were dozens.


Flinging the remote to the floor, Spike strode back to the door. “Get somethin’ to carry this lot up to my room, leave them in the wardrobe in the spare room – I’ll destroy them myself.”


“Spike, I – I’m so sorry – this is my fault. I should have told you he was acting oddly towards her when we came back from the cabin,” he shook his head unhappily. “I should never have left her in Wesley’s care – I should’ve stayed with her…I wish–”


Spike cut him off. “And if you had, you’d be lying in the hospital with your throat cut. It wasn’t your fault…if anyone’s to blame it’s me. I knew Gilbey had a thing for her…Wesley told me weeks ago he’d attacked her and I didn’t do a damn thing ‘bout it…and when I caught him lookin’ at her in the gym, I smacked him ‘bout a bit, tellin’ myself I’d deal with him soon enough.” Spike swallowed back the bile threatening to force its way up his throat. “And now this…he’s obviously been watchin’ her constantly. There are tapes there from when she was still at her apartment. Considering what he did to those other women, I can well guess what he’s going to do to her and if I don’t find her in time – I’ll…”


Whatever he was going to say he couldn’t finish it. Cooper watched him struggle with himself. He was stunned; Spike knew Gilbey had attacked Buffy and yet did nothing about it, especially not after what he did to the whore, but looking at his friend’s face, he knew now was not the time to debate fault. Quickly, he pulled a large canvas bag from the wardrobe and filled it with the tapes from the cupboard. Spike collected the ones in front of the TV and the one inside the machine.


“You do know it might be necessary to go through some of these, to see if there are any clues as to where he might have taken her?” Cooper kept shoving tapes into the bag, not looking at his friend.


“Yeah, I know.”


When they finished, the two friends separated. Cooper took the elevator to the top floor and Spike took the stairs back to the ground floor.


Spike nearly bumped into Luke as he stepped into the hallway. He spotted a small woman standing alone in the middle of the black polished floor. Guessing she must be Trick’s hooker, he quickly scanned her. Her clothes screamed whore. She was wearing a pair of tight short shorts and a low cut tight fitting sleeveless top and she was tottering around on an impossibly high pair of heels. When he looked up into her face, he could see she was maybe a bit older than Buffy and her heavy make-up made her look older still, but as he got closer to her, he could see the make-up was being used to cover the fading bruises that could still be seen. Now he was looking, he could see similar bruises on her arms and legs. He noticed her short boyish hair cut and remembered what Luke had told him about Gilbey cutting her hair, and like the last whore…she was a blonde…just like Buffy. She moved slightly and he noticed her bandaged hand. Spike felt like screaming.


“Alyx…right?” he asked. He was careful to keep his tone normal. He didn’t want to scare her. She nodded. “Did Luke tell you what this is all about?”


“Yeah, he did, but I don’t think it’s going to do you any good questioning me…I was in too much pain to notice much about the place he took us too.”


“Well, why don’t you tell us what you do remember,” he guided her into his study, smiling at her softly. He helped her into a seat on the couch. “Luke, fetch Miss…what’s your surname sweet’eart?” he asked, kindly.


“Oh…er…Jordan…Alyxandria Jordan,” she replied hesitantly.


“Luke, fetch Miss. Jordan a drink.” Luke moved to the drinks cabinet. Spike watched the girl looking around her. She was clearly feeling uncomfortable in the expensively furnished room. As she gazed around, she seemed to shrink into herself.


Luke placed a drink of scotch on the coffee table in front of her and retreated to sit on the edge of Buffy’s desk so he could keep his boss and the hooker in his sights.


Alyx took a nervous sip of her drink.


“Now Miss. Jordan, please tell me everythin’ you remember ‘bout the night Gilbey attacked you.” Spike encouraged her with a sincere smile.


“Well, like I told Luke, I don’t remember much…I thought he was going to kill me…kill both of us really, but after he made me gag and tie Noelle up, he didn’t even look at her. He kept ranting on about this woman that he said cheated on him and how he was going to make me look so ugly that no other man would ever look at me again–”


Spike interrupted her. “Did he say who cheated on him…did he say a name?” Alyx shook her head in the negative. “Okay, what else?”


“I tried to fight him when he started getting real rough, but it was no use…he moved real quick and he was much stronger than me and after he broke my fingers, I stayed as still as I could…I just wanted it to be over…I passed out a couple of times and Noelle told me he would just sit there stroking my hair, while I was out.” She took a large gulp of her drink before continuing. “When he took that big knife to my hair I thought for sure he was going to cut my throat…and I could see it in his eyes he wanted to do it…but he stopped…I don’t know why. Then he knocked me out and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in an alley. I untied Noelle and we went straight back to Trick.” She looked at Spike as she finished. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more.”


“No, you did good…and I’m sure it’s not somethin’ you want to remember, but can you tell me anythin’ about the apartment?” Spike asked, hopefully. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to try.


“Not much. He blindfolded us in the car. He told us we were playing a game. So I didn’t see where we were going and the apartment was a bit bare…nothing to make it stand out in my mind. A lounge, a small kitchen with a small dinning table in it, and one bedroom with a connecting bathroom. I do remember the bathroom was blue with pretty flowered tiles and a blue door. I’m sorry…all of that probably means nothing…I wish I could remember more, but if you ask Noelle, she might remember something.”


Spike looked at Luke, disheartened at the discovery that Alyx really didn’t know much at all. She’d described an apartment like thousands of apartments in LA and a blue tiled bathroom with a blue door could apply to thousands of bathrooms. Spike sighed.


“Well as soon as your friend Noelle gets here, we’ll ask her. Do you mind staying ‘ere…jus’ in case you remember somethin’ else?” he asked.


“Okay.”


“And don’t worry how silly or insignificant you think any little detail is…jus’ tell me if you remember anythin’…okay?”


“Okay.”


Spike glanced at Luke. “Find Marti and get him to keep Miss. Jordan company in the game room and tell him to get her somethin’ to eat.”


Luke escorted Alyx out of the room, leaving Spike sitting alone on the couch. Spike didn’t even hear the door close behind them. He stared off into space, lost in his fear for Buffy – her frightened face swimming before his eyes. Quietly, he vowed to get her back. He would wait until he could question the other hooker and then he was going to go look for her himself. He prayed he would find her before Ritt did.


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

Chapter Sixty Two.

No Place like Home.


Buffy woke in stages. Slowly, she fought through the layers of blackness and pain. At first, she wasn’t aware of anything other than her pain, though somewhere, far off she heard a door open, but was unable to open her eyes. She felt a presence looming over her and tried to speak, but something prevented her.


“Oh no, not time for you to wake up yet sugar lips.”


She was sure she should know that voice. She felt a sharp sting in her arm and whimpered pitifully. Sleep dragged her back down.


When next she woke, she had the same trouble fighting her way back to consciousness, but this time no one came to disturb her. Vaguely, she wondered if she’d had another migraine, but she couldn’t remember experiencing the onset of one. Gradually, her mind began to focus. At first she thought it must be nighttime because she couldn’t see anything. It was so dark, but then she realized she was blindfolded and then she became aware of the gag. Panic rose up in her and she tried to move, only to discover she was tied down.


Tears sprung to her eyes and slipped down her cheeks under the blindfold. She knew she couldn’t afford to indulge in a crying spell, fearing she wouldn’t be able to breathe.


Breathing as deeply as she could, she tried to calm her wildly beating heart and remember how she’d ended up here.


She remembered dancing at the party and that man turning up…but she couldn’t remember his name. He scared her when he told her Masters had sent him…and then Spike was there pulling her out of his arms and she was sure there was going to be trouble. Luke and the normally friendly and pleasant Wesley and Cooper, all looked like they were ready to commit murder. Buffy could feel Spike’s rage seeping into her as he gently held her. She remembered the fireworks and Spike kissing her and then things were a bit hazy. Wesley was dancing with her…but why…where was Spike? Oh God, the meeting…something must have gone wrong…Spike had sent for her. He was mad…because she hadn’t return to their rooms right away. Gilbey was taking them back into the house…when for no reason, he attacked Wesley.


Suddenly, everything fell into place and Buffy realized she was at the mercy of a mad man.


It felt like hours had passed and no one came to check on her. She wondered if that was a good or a bad thing. Her thoughts were jumbled. He must have drugged her. She realized her body was slowly fighting the effects of the drug. Gradually, clarity returned and her memories slipped back into their rightful order.


She wondered where she was and how long she had been there. She avoided thinking about what Gilbey was going to do to her and concentrated on thinking about what Spike was doing. She guessed he would be frantic…possibly raging…but she believed completely in her heart he would stop at nothing until he found her, she only prayed it would be in time.


Fearfully, she tried to block the scene from the garage from repeating in her mind, but she couldn’t shake the image of poor Wesley lying in his own blood as Gilbey turned on her.


She drifted back off to sleep, her body rebelling at the stress and the lingering drugs in her system. Her sleep was ugly, plagued with images of blood and knives, and the cool eyes of a handsome dark haired man as she danced in his arms.


There was something coming…something dark. She could hear Spike’s laughter somewhere in the crowd of faceless people as she whirled faster and faster in the strangers embrace. He smiled at her and whispered words of sweet seduction in her ear as she allowed him to lead her further and further away from the other dancers and away from Spike. The something was drawing closer. Fearfully, she looked up at him. They’d stopped dancing and were alone in a darkened room. She couldn’t see the walls, but she had a feeling the room was vast. She could feel a sinister presence approaching from somewhere behind her, but she was too afraid to look over her shoulder and see what it was. The stranger held her hand, keeping her closer to him then she wanted to be, but again she was afraid to force him to let her go as she felt a strange sense of safety with him, so she surrendered herself to his care. The presence now felt oppressive, but it still remained hidden. She trembled. He seemed pleased she would accept his protection and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her brow. She sighed and closed her eyes melting into his familiar arms. When he pulled back, she opened her eyes to look into Spike’s smiling face. Unsurpassed joy filled her, but the ugly presence began to swell all around them…like a tidal wave poised to swallow them. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply…she could sense his happiness and his love in the way he returned her kiss and all at once she felt free. All fear and doubt, and all the feelings she had been denying had vanished. Spike filled her vision and her heart. She was happy. The kiss ended, but Spike continued to hold her hand. He whispered to her.


“Look behind you luv.”


She turned her head, trusting him to save her from the evil she knew she would find there. She screamed.


Lily stood before her…bathed in blood and crying. In her arms, she held a tiny baby…too tiny to be real…and the baby was covered in its mother’s blood. Lily’s eyes were pleading and she held the child out to Buffy… silently begging her to take it, but even as she reached for the child, Gilbey appeared and snatched Lily and the baby from her grasp…tearing into them with vicious strikes from the sharp knife he held in his hand.


Buffy couldn’t bare it, she buried her head at Spike’s chest and squeezed her eyes tight, but it didn’t shut out the sound. Panting and gasping, Buffy begged Spike to make it stop, but when she looked up into his face, his expression of reproach made her pull back…he knew…it was all her fault and he knew…Buffy watched in horror as the love in his eyes diminished and died…and then he looked at her…cold and empty.


“I hate you,” he whispered, but it wasn’t the sound of his voice coming from his lips…it was her own.


“NO…NO…you love me…and I…I…need you,” He released her hand and began to back away from her. “NO…don’t go…don’t leave me…I need you, I …I… Spike…please…”


Her cries echoed in the vast empty space…he’d left her and she was alone. Her hands were coated in blood and looking down, she could see she was standing in a pool of blood…her blood. Hesitantly she reached for her throat and felt the wound. She screamed…the tidal wave broke and roared at her as it began its decent. In the distance, she heard Spike calling to her…begging her to find her way to him…to fight.


*****


She woke with a start, gasping and panting her distress, as the horror of the dream began to retreat. Buffy willed her racing heart to slow. Breathing deeply through her nose, she counted slowly in her head, focusing on the calming relaxation technique.


Calmer, Buffy tried to extend her awareness beyond her own body. The room she was in was quiet and she couldn’t hear anything other than her own slightly labored breathing.


Stealing her courage, she refused to think too much about her present situation. While she was undisturbed, she would try to focus on all the things she held as beliefs. The first one was obviously in God…and her strong faith that he wouldn’t abandon her to suffer death at the hands of a maniac. She nearly cried at that thought and offered up a silent prayer to ward off the possibility. She refused to think of her mother and sister…I will see them again…I will…I will…I will…


Spike’s face was clear in her minds eye. Not as she’d seen him in the dream…though she did take the time to examine certain aspects that she could remember. It didn’t take a genius to work out the evil presence was Gilbey and she didn’t need anyone to help her fathom out where her frightened mind had dragged Lily or Gilbey up from. The desire to touch her neck, to reassure herself she was in fact uninjured was overpowering, but impossible, and Buffy knew witnessing Gilbey cut Wesley’s throat played a very real part in that tormented part of her dream.


Her handsome dance partner…the strange man from New York was more of a puzzle to her. She still couldn’t remember his name, but his smile she would never forget, his presence had melted away to reveal Spike. She remembered with clarity the feeling of safety she’d felt in the dream when she realized she was being held in Spike’s arms. Buffy believed in his ability and desire to find her. That belief, even in a small measure, was such a blinding light in the face of her present and very real darkness that it gave her comfort.


Focusing on her belief in Spike, she concentrated on imagining what he would be doing to find her.


He would be angry…but for once, not with her. She knew he was clever and resourceful and that he wouldn’t let anything stop him, or get in his way. He will find me…he will. She had seen his total dedication and focus when he made his mind up about something, he was a force of nature, unstoppable. The thought comforted her. Sadly, she acknowledged the only thing that would work against him and subsequently her, was time. If he couldn’t reach her in time…NO…! He will find me…he has to…


She pushed the negative thoughts away and thought about other things. She thought about how in the dream she’d felt safe and loved. Loved…the idea seemed strange to her. Being loved by Spike, even if it was only in a dream might seem strange now, but in the dream it had felt real…absolute even. How is that possible? After all the things I’ve suffered, how could my dream have tried to tell me, I was loved by Spike?


There was nothing to support that.


Yet, as she dwelled on it, the faint echoes of her thoughts from the reception sounded in her ears once more.


She tensed as she heard the sound of a door opening. Quickly, she turned her head in an automatic gesture towards the sound. Fearfully, she held her breath. The seconds stretched out, until she was ready to scream with the agonizing suspense.


Someone was touching her. She flinched and tried to pull back from the hand on her leg, shouting at the hands owner from behind her gag.


Gilbey chuckled. “What? Are you trying to tell me you don’t like that?”


She could feel his hot breath on her face and she quickly pulled her head back.


Gilbey continued to chuckle as he roughly removed the blindfold. Bright light assaulted her eyes and she blinked rapidly trying to focus. “In a few moments, I’m going to undo your gag…and the reason I’m telling you is so you won’t scream…because if I suspect for a second that you’re going to, I’ll just put the gag right back…understand?” he snarled.


She nodded her head weakly, still trying to regain her sight.


Satisfied, Gilbey unbuckled the gag and eased the rubber bit from her mouth. She gasped in a huge lung-full of air and exercised her jaw.


“Spike is going to kill you,” she gasped.


Gilbey snorted. “And why is that?”


Her vision was clearing. “Because of what you’ve done…you killed Wesley and kidnapped me, and I know Spike will find–”


“And what makes you think he’s even looking…or even cares? If I know Spike, he’s probably playing a quiet game of pool and congratulating himself on finally getting rid of you.” He moved to sit beside her and she noticed for the first time, she was tied to a bed.


Fear bathed her like sweat…sour and slick. It couldn’t be true, Spike was adamant about him wanting her to be his mistress.


“You’re lying. Spike asked me to be his mistress. He told me he was going to speak to Masters and get his approval.” It might have sounded more convincing if her voice hadn’t shook.


Gilbey barked a sharp laugh. “Is that right? And I suppose Masters sent Ritt to just dance with you?”


That was the man’s name…Ritt. Buffy didn’t know what to say to that. Ritt had told her he was there to collect a package and make sure she spent the night with Marco. Though she suspected he was talking about Angel when he’d mentioned the package. Buffy was confused. She wasn’t sure of Ritt’s purpose and Gilbey sounded so sure of himself.


Seeing her doubt and confusion, Gilbey smiled and decided to play on her insecurities. “Okay princess, I’ll spell it out for you…Ritt came to collect Angel and since Angel will be going home to New York, Spike doesn’t need you any longer…so he asked me to dispose of you.” He ran his hand over her stomach and Buffy realized she was still thankfully clothed. Yet, she couldn’t help wondering for how long.


Bravely, she swallowed back her rising fear. “I still don’t believe you, because even if Spike did want to get rid of me, why would he allow you to kill one of his own men?”


Gilbey shook his head, as if she’d just said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “You mean Wesley?” She nodded. “Oh, that’s sweet…didn’t you know Wesley isn’t really one of us? No? Well see…Wesley used to work for Angel…well, that is right up until he betrayed him to Spike.” He laughed at the look on her face. He leaned forward trapping her face in his big hands forcing her to look at him. “It was Wesley who copied all of Angel’s files…it was Wesley who copied Angel’s journals and handed them over to Spike…Wesley gave you to Spike.” She whimpered, trying to pull out of his grasp. “And do you know what Spike did after reading all those lovely little stories about you in Angel’s journals…he ordered me to bug your apartment and if you smile real sweetly into that corner over there, I’ll be able to show the tape to Spike later…that’s if he’s not sitting in the monitoring room back at the mansion watching us right now.”


Buffy gasped, looking around for the first time. She was stunned to see she was back in her old apartment. Tears sprang to her eyes and this time, she didn’t fight them. “Oh, God!” Fear swamped her. She trembled under his touch.


“Spike used to spend a lot of his time in the monitoring room before he had Luke and Dixon pick you up, and with Wesley’s help, he found out everything about you and your friends and family…watching you constantly…having you followed wherever you went until he found Angel.” His hands moved from her face to her hair. “Wesley was a traitor and Spike didn’t trust him, and now he doesn’t need to…he’s dead…” he lifted a handful of her hair and rubbed it over his cheek. “OH! That’s silky soft and you smell right nice,” he chuckled at her sickened expression. “I told you he’d share sugar lips.”


He pounced on her, smashing his lips to hers, thrusting his tongue roughly into her mouth. Buffy screamed under him, struggling against her bonds with all her might, but weakened by the drugs, she quickly tired and was left gasping, as he smothered her face and neck with sloppy kisses. His hands were everywhere and she squirmed away from them as he moved them over her body. Her dress tore in his struggle to touch her and he pushed a hand into the ragged gap.


Buffy screamed again, feeling his sweaty palm on the trembling contours of her stomach.


Angry, Gilbey slapped her across the face, silencing her for a moment.


“I told you no screaming bitch, or the gag goes back on.” She screamed again really loud when she saw him pick up the gag. Struggling as best she could, she tried to evade his efforts to get the contraption back on…but it was no use. He was stronger than her and after he slapped her again, hard enough to daze her, he clinched the straps tighter than before, making her gasp in pain.


She wept as he tore the bodice of her dress, nearly exposing her breasts.


“That time in the holding rooms you were wearing a red dress then…dressed like a whore…Spike should have let me have you then, but no…he wanted Angel to give him that fucking nut job Drusilla’s location…fat lot of good it did him.” He was fondling her breasts almost indifferently as he ranted on about Spike and Drusilla.


Buffy tried not to distract him as he rambled on. She stared at him as his conversation took on a bizarre quality…he was talking to her as if she was still replying to him, but now his tone was deadly soft and he kept his eyes locked on his hand at her breast squeezing and rubbing her, through the fabric of her dress. Buffy was amazed and relieved he wasn’t pinching her. Wriggling her hands, she felt the tie on her right wrist give just a little. Hope surged inside her.


She froze suddenly, fearfully listening to what he was saying.


“Of course I told Spike all that effort he was lavishing on you was a waste of time, but he insisted you were worth it…said you were a lady…all shy and modest. But your blushes didn’t fool me, I knew you were just a whore…like all the others.” His eyes slowly met hers and she shivered. “I have the tapes to prove it…and when I show them to Spike, he’ll be so glad I took care of his little whore.” Gilbey saw the fear in her eyes. This was exactly what he wanted. To see this made the beating Spike had given him worthwhile. She was trembling and her obvious terror made him feel a rush of power. For a whore, she was perfection and seeing her exposed and at his mercy turned him on intensely.


Buffy didn’t think it was possible to be more scared than she was already, but the insane gleam in Gilbey’s eyes made her icy with fear. He held eerily still. His hands were frozen on her breasts as he gazed down at her. A sheen of sweat coated his twisted face and he was breathing shallow, but kind of loudly. Buffy could feel him trembling with some suppressed emotion. She held perfectly still, the fear nearly choking her. She knew without a doubt he was truly insane. All those things he’d said about Spike sounded so true, and if they were, then Spike had put her deliberately into the hands of a mad man…but hope is hard to kill when it’s the last thing you have to cling too and Buffy was clinging for dear life.


Staring into the eyes of the mad man before her, she tried to recall all the past conversations she’d had with Spike. All the times she saw that strange look on his face…it was more than just his desire to convey his sincerity or to convince her he was trying to do the right thing by making her his mistress. She remembered the day he took her sailing. She had been standing in the sitting room, wearing a blue dress and she got real mad at him when she thought he was trying to bribe her with promises of a perfect life, full of travel and adventure. For an instant, he’d looked at her so softly. Puzzled, she asked him if he wanted to be her boyfriend. Then the mask slipped back in place and he was Spike again.


Then the night they played that silly sex game, her feeling stupid dressed as a schoolgirl and him looking at her like she was a goddess…he’d looked at her strangely and called her ‘such a little girl’ and she’d brushed it off as part of the game.


Then the time they were in the bar, right before the fight broke out…she saw that same odd, soft look flitter across his face as he slowly wove his way back to her side, after she danced with the dark haired girl.


One of the strongest memories was the night she called him and they met at that expensive hotel. The look of awe on his face was indiscernible. He’d told her she looked like a bride, dressed in her snow white gown. He’d made love to her all night with such tenderness that she nearly wept as he kissed her, touched her, whispered to her and held her as if she was made of spun glass. He was a completely different person and everything about him had moved and touched her deeply.


Last night on the plane, he’d looked wounded by her sharp words and explained that he only wanted her to wear the ribbon as a symbol of trust…and when he tied it around her wrist, his simple whispered words of thanks had been full of awe and gratitude.


Tonight too, when he tried to explain about the jewelry. He’d stumbled over his words he’d told her the diamonds were a symbol of his affection…flawless…but he’d stumbled over the word affection.


Faster and faster now all the times she’d seen that look on his face came rushing to her mind…each resurfacing memory, strengthening her crumb of hope…until she came to a screeching halt at the one memory she hadn’t allowed herself to think about.


The cabin.


Spike had asked her to be his wife. He’d told her there was no other declaration that could prove to her or the world just how serious he was about protecting her, he said he would look after her and never let anyone hurt her and he had the same soft look on his face as he said the words, ‘be my wife’ and he had sounded so hopeful. Buffy knew she couldn’t deny it any longer she had already seen it, but refused to acknowledge the truth…Spike was in love with her.


Parts of her drug hazed dream replayed in her head and she remembered her utter joy when she found herself in Spike’s arms and how the feeling of his love overwhelmed her…and her dream-self had returned his love…freely…in her dream, her love had made her free.


Anguished, she cried silently…her voice trapped behind a sadistic sexual aid. Spike…Spike where are you…I need you…I…I…Oh God! I’ve been so blind…how could I have not seen it all before. I’m such a fool.


There was a loud knock at the front door and Buffy’s eyes widened in hope. Gilbey laughed at her.


“Oh don’t get excited princess, that’s just the pizza I ordered.” He climbed off the bed, squeezing her breasts firmly as he slid away from her. “Now don’t you move, I’ll be right back…and if you ask me nicely, I might let you have something to eat.” He left the room quickly as the knock sounded again.


Buffy swiveled her head, rapidly trying to see if she could see how loose the rope on her right wrist was. Glancing at the curtains, she wondered what time it was…but she could see the shutters were closed behind the heavy cotton curtains. She could have been here a few hours or a couple of days. God knows how long he was drugging her, or with what. She pushed that worry aside to be examined later. Now, she needed to try and get out of the ropes holding her. If she could free herself, she could climb out of the bathroom window. There was a narrow ledge, though it was high up, but it would be worth the risk. She could edge her way along and get to the neighboring building…maybe even reach the fire escape or if she was lucky, find an open window and climb in. She worked frantically on her bindings. Gilbey wouldn’t give her much time. She wondered how long it took to eat a pizza. Xander could do it in five minutes. She renewed her efforts. She had to get out of this. She had to live and find Spike.


She needed to tell him…what she didn’t know for sure, but she knew she needed to tell him something. All those times, hidden away from her by her own stubbornness to see…to recognize…or acknowledge that he could be feeling more for her than just lust or a desire to use her for revenge. There were times when she had witnessed his ability to be a good man, but it had always been overshadowed by his dealings with Angel and his reactions to her when he lost his temper, his own personal demon.


Buffy struggled to draw breath. Could it be that simple…that easy? Was Spike a good man trying to overcome his demons…Buffy knew in her heart it wasn’t quite that simple. There was more to Spike than a good man verses a monster. Nothing was that black and white. Yet, until this moment, she knew she was guilty of refusing to see him in any other terms.


All through the months since he’d snatched her away from her sheltered life, she had been determined to maintain her unshakable position of loathing and stubbornness, refusing to see him as anything but an evil threat to her existence. He had shaken her world and she had fought him and his way of life, tooth and nail to the best of her abilities, but it was no good. Now she was being forced to re-examine the other more subtle things about Spike. The ones she had deliberately blinded herself to.


Now, too many little things were leaking into her awareness…individually they were such small things…so easily ignored or passed over in the face of his more obvious persona of hardened crime lord. Yet now, they screamed at Buffy with the strength of a tidal wave…forcing her to face what she should have seen…what she would have seen so clearly, if she hadn’t come into this strange relationship on the cusp of her failed affair with Angel.


Every look…every gesture…every single word he had whispered to her with the smallest measure of affection, she re-examined. Scrutinizing, everything to the best of her ability…and now she realized, where before she had only seen his seemingly cool indifference or his attempts to dominate her…now she saw the softer side. There were times when he made absolutely no demands on her, he would simply just hold her hand and walk with her in the garden, quietly, letting her keep a solitary silence. Other times, she would catch him staring at her over the dinner table or when she was absorbed in the TV. Resentfully she’d thought he was trying to make her feel uncomfortable or hounded. Now she realized he had always quickly looked away, an expression of guilt on his face for being caught watching her…and since the day they came back from the cabin…or rather the night, where she knew Masters was watching them…he’d been so careful not to intrude or impose on her in a sexual way, until she confronted him about it in the gym shower…and even then, he’d been reluctant…but he’d given in to her…letting her satisfy herself with him.


The sexual side of their relationship from that point had become much more equal. Spike had allowed her to take whatever she wanted…which in turn, gave her more confidence. Something she had lacked when she was with Angel. It had been her idea to meet at the hotel…her idea to dress up as a schoolgirl, which in turn initiated the game…her idea to start quite a few other firsts. Spike had always encouraged her to voice her desires or explore anything she might be curious about. Never once laughing at her…or pressing her for things he might want…and never once did he question her about her past or her lack of experience. He’d just accept her requests or shy desires with a smile and helped her achieve satisfaction. Buffy knew she had ruined all of that, by yet again flinging Angel into his face.


She cringed as her hateful words resounded in her head. How could she have told him she thought of Angel when he held her? It was such a lie…and one she was ashamed of. Looking back, she realized they had both goaded each other…both of them full of pride and stubborn willfulness as neither of them even attempted to swallow their own stupidity and soften openly, towards the other.


Then there were the numerous times she woke to find him lying close to her…stroking her arms or hair…his hands gliding softly over her…not quite in a sexual manner. She’d thought at the time it was a possessive gesture…now she wasn’t so sure. Now she thought it possible the action could have been one borne of affection, and possibly the simple joy a person derived from being close to the person they loved, but because Spike was trying to hide his feelings from her, he would only indulge himself when she was asleep. As the thoughts rolled through her mind, faster and faster Buffy knew it to be true. It wasn’t just affection he felt for her…it was love.


How could she be so stupid…so blind. She had never judged the world with such a closed mind before…yet, she had with Spike. She had made no effort to fathom him, besides, trying to ponder and figure out his reasons for hating Angel. Now she might never learn what those reasons were. Spike had been right all along…she had hidden from the truth, refusing to accept what was in front of her in favor of existing in a world made up entirely of her own truths.


She fought to free herself with determination. The question as to her own feelings hung above her…just like the tidal wave in her dream. Fear of the answer, made her shy away from herself but no matter how hard she tried, she could no longer make the voice ringing in her ears be silent.


Did she care for Spike? Did she have feelings for him? Did she love him?


Were they several questions, or just variations of the same question? She wasn’t sure. There was no turning back now. No hiding from herself. Not here…not now. Not when her life hung in the balance. She couldn’t deny her own beliefs. The joy it should have brought her to realize that Spike had deep feelings for her was eclipsed by the pain of her uncertainty as to her own feelings for him.


She asked the questions again. Did she care for Spike? Possibly…maybe…sometimes. Did she have feelings for him? I don’t know…I don’t know, she wailed. But I want to know…how can I be sure what I’m feeling is real. I loved Angel…I really, really loved him, but Spike…oh God! Spike makes me feel…everything.


Did she love him? No…I can’t love him, not now…not like this…


Once more the echo whispered to her, prodding her relentlessly with yet one more question. Yes, but could you love him?


The questioned stilled her frantic movements as she struggled with the ropes.


Could she come to love Spike?


The tidal wave hovered above her. She laughed, a small note of hysterics ringing in the sound, echoing in her head. Something inside her broke…broke with all the strength and passion, of a woman’s heart.


Yes…


She thought she heard the tidal wave groan as it broke from its precipice and swept towards her. She felt its rushing energy, even imagined she could feel the wind it created as it rushed towards her…and she felt free. Yes…if he loves me…really loves me…and can abandon his desire and need for revenge to love me…I could love him too. Buffy’s focus turned inward and the whisper of a soft echo rang in her heart. Oh God! I think I’m in love with Spike.


*****


Ritt felt a certain satisfaction in shooting the stupid fucking, car thief in the hand. The little punk had tried to steal his car and he didn’t have any answers to his questions. When the punk finally stopped screaming and saw the gun aimed at his kneecap, he gave him a name and told him where to find the man who knew everything there was to know about the stolen car scene in LA.


Ritt dumped the kid back on the street and drove straight to the address he gave him. It was the worst end of LA and it was the worst end of the docks. It was usually abandoned…dark, and a perfect place for a murder or the perfect place to be murdered. Tonight, the dock was alive with men loading cars onto a freight ship. Ritt knew someone was paying the cops to stay clear and from his position, he counted fourteen armed men. The guy doing all the paying was a guy nick-named Friday. Ritt needed to speak to him quickly, but he didn’t need to die trying. He really only had two choices…grab Friday’s attention in a big loud and very obvious way…with a rocket launcher aimed at one of his shiny new cars…or just walk in unarmed.


Ritt really liked the idea of the rocket launcher, especially since there weren’t any cops in a mile radius, but fuck it all and damn Spike to hell. He really needed to be quick.


He was practically upon the guard before the meathead spotted him. Fucking amateurs, he thought. He smiled chillingly and slowly raised his hands as he approached the startled guard. Annoyed because he was taken by surprise, the guard yelled for backup and roughly searched him for weapons then pushed him towards a ramshackle office. Ritt tolerated the stupid man’s hands on him, promising himself Spike would pay for the things he was having to endure. When the guard shoved him through the office door, all conversation in the room ceased.


“Who the fuck is this?” A tiny fat man yelled.


Ritt nearly laughed. The little fat man reminded him of a cross between Danny Devito and the blue flying alien in Star Wars I. He was chewing on the stubby butt of a cigar swearing and yelling like he just caught his dick in his zipper. Ritt wasn’t sure if the fat man wasn’t going to have a heart attack. The little squirt was a lovely shade of plum.


“Don’t know boss…I caught him over near the entrance to warehouse two. He’s not armed and he’s not carrying a badge,” stupid said.


Ritt snorted at that and the angry fat man turned on him. “Think that’s fucking funny do ya?” Ritt arched a cool eyebrow and casually scanned the room, crossing his arms in front of him. “Cocky bastard aren’t ya…Sam shoot cocky and dump his body on the freighter…he can be dumped at sea when–”


Not even bothering to look at the fat man, Ritt interrupted him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”


“Oh! Really…and why the fuck not?”


“Oh, only because Mr. Masters and Mr. Winters won’t like it.” That shut the little air bag up. Ritt looked him in the eye. “Unless you’d like every member of your entire family killed slowly and painfully starting with the youngest and saving you for last.”


The fat man grew pale. “Who are you?”


“I work for Masters…usually he hires me out to take care of his friends and clients…problems and annoyances, but tonight I’m working for Spike…” He smiled pleasantly at the little fat man. “Which is a first for me, because Spike usually hates my guts but he needs are great and for the right price, he persuaded me to help him out…not that he really needed to persuade me too much, because like Spike, I’m a sucker for a pair of pretty eyes and a dazzling smile and the lady I’ve been sent to find has both.”


The little fat man blinked at him, while frowning. Ritt thought the expression reminded him even more of the flying alien. “But who are you?”


“I’m not giving you my name…deal with it. Now are you going to help me find Buffy or not?”


“Huh…! What…? Who the fuck’s Buffy?” Fatty gasped, confused.


Ritt sighed and moved closer to the fat man ignoring the guns that rattled as they trained on him. Crouching down to Fatty’s level, he stared him into silent stillness. “You weren’t listening…that’s not good. If you expect me to let you live, you need to listen.” Fatty’s eye twitched nervously. “Buffy is the girl I’ve been hired to find…she’s about five foot two, long blonde hair beautiful green eyes and a dazzling smile…oh, and I forgot to say…she’s Spike’s mistress…some nasty bastard has kidnapped her and Spike wants her back before the nasty bastard has a chance to hurt her…and you’re going to help me.”


Fatty stared back and for a moment, Ritt thought the stupid little man was about to make the wrong choice, but the look in his eye turned submissive and he nodded his head.


“Good,” Ritt slapped the little man on the back, laughing. “Do a good job for me and I’ll put in a good word for you with Spike…you never know…he might even invite you to join the family.”


Fatty turned purple again and nearly choked on his cigar. Ritt chuckled and stood back up. “SO!” He said cheerily. “I guess you thought you’d use Spike’s reception as the perfect diversion to do a little car business, while he was busy not looking in your direction?”


Fatty was changing colors so quickly that Ritt wondered if he could talk him into that heart attack. He’d never killed anyone by talking them to death before. Oh, well there was always a first and it might look good on his résumé. He could just see it.

***

Title: - Killer/Hired Gun.


Experience: - Years and years, with hundreds killed.


Preferred Method of Disposal: - Guns, knives, piano wire, tall buildings, subway accidents and talking to death!!!

***


The idea brought a smile to his face and it seemed to unnerve the little fat man even more.


“Oh sorry…didn’t you think someone on Spike’s payroll might notice a ship load of stolen cars?”


Fatty spluttered and tried to convince Ritt that wasn’t the case. He said he didn’t have a clue that Mr. Winters was too busy to pay him a visit. Ritt smiled and reassured him he had nothing to worry about, because Spike would be more than happy to hear of his success and even happier to share in the profits…unless of course he was planning on trying to bribe him to keep his mouth shut. Fatty shook his head strongly and denied any such notion. Ritt thanked his lucky stars the fat man wasn’t that stupid and began to fill him in on some of the happenings at the mansion earlier, giving enough detail but no more than what was strictly necessary. Fatty was going to find the missing B.M.W. The little man sighed in relief when he heard Ritt tell him all he wanted him to do was track down the missing car.


Frightened Fatty, disappeared and the angry fat man was back…barking orders and calling his team of car thieves into the broken down office. He gave them the description of the car as well as the plates and sent them out without delay…telling them that if anyone of them found the car, they were to call in and let him know, but under no circumstances were they to try and steal it.


Ritt took a seat behind a broken down desk, smiling darkly at fatty


*****


Buffy’s bid for freedom was looking better and better. She had managed to free her hands and was working on the last rope tying her to the bed. She kept shooting little fearful glances at the bedroom door…terrified Gilbey would burst through at any second. She thought she heard voices, but realized it was just a TV. Sweat soaked her brow and she wished she’d decided to wear a shorter dress to the reception. It was going to be very dangerous climbing along the ledge in the long red gown.


The last knot slipped loose and she scrambled off the bed. Quickly and quietly, she made her way to the bathroom closing the door softly. She slid the small bolt across…it wasn’t much of a lock, but it would still provide her with some warning if Gilbey came looking for her before she could get away.


The window creaked horribly loud and long, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Buffy cringed as the noise echoed in the empty space of the bathroom behind her. Glancing quickly at the door, she held her breath, trying to hear if she could detect any sounds of pursuit, but she couldn’t hear anything. Exhaling, she quickly scrambled onto the vanity unit and towards the window.


A loud bang shook the locked door and Gilbey screamed at her from the other side.


“Open this fucking door you whore…I’ll break your fucking-”


Gasping, Buffy ignored him and frantically slipped and slid closer to the small window. Gilbey was throwing his considerable weight against the door and Buffy knew it wouldn’t be long before he broke through.


She was half way out when her dress caught on the latch. “NOooo!” She screamed, just as she heard the sound of the door smashing in behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, fearfully and tugged as hard as she could on her dress. There was the sound of ripping fabric and the glassy tinkle-tinkle as dozens of tiny crystals hit the tiles.


Suddenly, she was yanked backwards and slammed to the bathroom floor. Gilbey grabbed her by her hair and dragged her back into the bedroom. Winded from the powerful impact with the floor, Buffy gasped…her voice stolen from her by the combined pain on her scalp and her whole upper body. Powerless, she was hauled onto the bed. Gilbey released her hair, then slapped her hard. More tears sprang to her eyes as this new pain bloomed in her head, but before she had a chance to recover, Gilbey was on top of her…tearing at the red dress. His intent filtered through her pain-numbed brain and Buffy began to struggle. He pinned her with his greater weight and fought with the excessive amount of dress fabric, cursing and swearing as the dress continued to frustrate him. Tearing it violently from her neck, he exposed her breasts…a triumphant laugh bursting from his lips.


Buffy slapped at him, trying to cover her naked flesh, but Gilbey was indifferent to her.


“Hold still bitch…” he lowered his mouth and licked her nipples. “You even smell and taste like a whore…let’s see if you feel like one.”


Buffy screamed as his hand fumbled with the long skirt of her dress. Cursing, he covered her mouth with his hand and straddled her hips. With his free hand, he reached for the ropes still attached to the headboard above her head and yanked the length of rope from its anchor. He had to release her mouth so he could grab both her hands and wind the rope around them. He took no notice of her yelling or her weak struggles.


When he started to tie her hands together, Buffy tried to hit him in the back with her knee, but the dress, which was tangled in her legs, hampered her and swiftly she found herself a prisoner again. Gilbey shoved her closer to the headboard and secured the rope, effectively preventing her from moving her arms. Then he yanked her back down the bed, stretching her arms out painfully. She screamed at him to let her go, but he merely sneered at her. Getting off her, he looked around for the gag and Buffy took advantage of the lack of weight on her legs and again kicked out at him. The blow caught him unawares and he stumbled backwards into the small chest of draws, crashing into it and falling to the floor.


Enraged, he jumped up and leapt at her, striking her with a powerful blow to her face with his clenched fist…then two more to her stomach. The pain was incredible and Buffy couldn’t breath. She felt as if her lungs had shut down. Her whole body was in agony as the shockwaves of his blows ripped through her. Her face had never hurt so much before. Her nose and mouth were bleeding and her cheek felt like it was on fire, but it hurt even more when he slapped her again and yanked her hair so painfully that she had to arch her neck to try and ease the pressure. He climbed back on top of her, shaking her head like a cat with a rat.


“I’ve changed my mind about the gag…I think I’d prefer to hear you scream…because we both know you won’t be screaming for too long,” he fumbled with her skirt again. “Now let’s see…I think I was about to see if you felt like a whore.” He grabbed the hem of her dress and ripped a tear right up to her thighs. His hands were on her legs, sliding along her thigh to her hip. Buffy resisted the urge to scream. She screwed her eyes tight shut, dreading what was sure to happen next.


With his hand resting on her hip, he sneered down at her, “Yes just like a fucking whore…no underwear. Does Spike like easy access to his cunt or do you just like his cock so much you can’t even wait to get undressed?”


Buffy didn’t answer. She tried to stay still and indifferent, but she couldn’t. Her mind and body rebelled at the unwanted and unwelcome intrusion. In her heart, she cried and called for Spike, but she wouldn’t let this monster see her heartache. It was enough he could see her distress and fear.


Pulling her face around, he yelled at her. “Answer me, you little bitch.”


“Go to hell you ugly bastard,” she spat up at him, hitting him in the face.


He released her chin and hit her hard, once in the face and a punch to her rib cage, laughing as she tried to curl up from the blows. He eased back, watching her recover slowly.


As the pain receded, she became aware of him gazing at her. She could taste blood in her mouth and swallowed back before she could choke. Her arms were in agony, the ligaments stretched beyond endurance, but his weight wouldn’t allow her to get closer to the headboard and ease the strain.


He reached for his zipper. “You need more than a little slap to make you moan…well I’ve got something you might like…”


Buffy went crazy underneath him, screaming and yelling trying her hardest to throw him off…screaming for Spike and threatening Gilbey with every curse and threat she could think of. She felt the skin of her wrist split and bleed as she struggled. The blood from her mouth and nose bubbled up as she choked and spluttered in fear and rage…but she kept screaming desperate to get him to stop.


Sitting more upright, he reached down and slowly pulled his knife from his boot, taking his time…letting her see the blood still encrusted on the blade. He held it up close to her face, smiling as she screamed even louder. Buffy felt him freeze and glanced up. Shocked, she saw the knife poised in mid-air in his hand…he was frozen as if he’d seen something…he looked down at her and she saw the decision in his eyes. Terrified, she screamed as the knife descended.


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

 

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