Chapter 14

Spike hated waiting. He hated that there was nothing he could do until sundown and he hated feeling so vulnerable, mainly because it was exactly what Angelus wanted him to feel. There’d been a time when Spike had admired the way his grand-sire could paint a canvas of pain with just a few masterly strokes. He’d watched him set the stage for mayhem and then sit back and enjoy the show. People were their own worst enemies, he’d always say. You just had to know which stone to knock out to make the building crumble. It was an art.

There was enough money to buy them passage to America and get them started on a new life. Spike counted out the pile of notes into bundles. Some for Buffy and some for the luggage, so that if they got separated then at least she'd be able to go on without him. The rest he stuffed into the inside pocket of his jacket. The house would sell eventually, but as yet they had no plans beyond getting out of England and away from Angelus. Finance wasn’t really a problem for someone with very few morals. This large house had been an uncharacteristically self-indulgent phase in his incarnation as a vampire. Mansion, or single room it made little difference to him since his new life had been mostly motivated by hunting and feeding and sex. There’d been times when a dark cellar had done just as well as a place to sleep out the daylight hours, but he’d enjoyed these last few weeks with Buffy in the comfort of this relatively safe haven.

She was still in the chair where he'd put her. Red-eyes, her face blotchy - she hadn't stopped crying and nothing he said seemed to make any difference to her. It was heart-breaking watching her go to pieces like this, especially now, when he needed her to be strong and when possibly, the worse was yet to come. With Dru’s help Angelus would know exactly where to make the most painful cuts. Incisions that would bleed and never heal, or that would leave one of them a scarred, broken shell.

Sitting on the arm of the chair Spike tentatively reached out for her and she turned and continued sobbing, her face buried in his lap. He took out his pocket watch and looked at it for what seemed the hundredth time that day. Not that he needed a watch to tell him that it was still too light outside for a vampire to travel, but it made him feel as if he was at least doing something. The grim predictability of what was happening didn’t surprise him, but he wasn’t going to accept it. Not this time.

"Tell me what I can do to help," he said.

Buffy lifted her face to him and wiped her eyes with her fingers. "Can you turn back time?" she asked him.

"Wish I could love."

She sniffed loudly and groped in her sleeve for a handkerchief. "Whatever I thought of him, he was my brother, Spike, and I must have loved him at some time. I just can't forget his face. He died in agony and wherever he is, he blames me for it."

"He was a sick bastard, love. I'm sorry, but it’s true and everything he got, he earned."

"Please don't say that,” she said, her eyes pleading for understanding. “You didn't know him like I did." Buffy leaned back into the chair and stared up at the ceiling. "This wouldn't have happened if I hadn't run away."

"But something else might have. Have you thought of that?"

"My virtue for his life? How could I say I'd rather see him dead that give in to him. I never wanted him dead."

"It's not your fault love. Look at me and keep looking at me. I need your help, Buffy, I can't do this without you,” Spike told her. “There’ll be plenty of time for crying on the boat, right now I’m asking you to be strong.”

“I don’t deserve happiness, Spike. Not at this price.”

“Don’t let’s get into that, love or we’ll never leave. I don’t deserve it either, but I want it.”

“At any cost?”

Spike lifted her hair and leaned over for a soft kiss to the back of her neck. He tested her response with another, lingering a little longer and lightly tracing the neckline of her dress with his fingers, feeling the tingle that ran over her skin when he touched her. “I’m going to fight for you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Buffy moved against his hand and he felt some of the tension leave her. “Then you’re going to get hurt,” she said in a resigned tone. “And all because of me.”

“It’s my choice, love.”

“I know I can’t stop you,” she said with a small laugh. “Would you like to make love to me one more time before we leave?”

“Am I that obvious?” he said and pulled her out of the chair. “And you know I’d fetch you back from hell if I had to. You’ve given my existence meaning in a way nothing ever has.”

“Have I?” She sounded surprised. Almost as if the last few weeks, and everything they’d been through had never happened.

“Kiss me, Buffy,” Spike asked her. “I love kissing you.”

There was warmth in her lips, but part of her was missing, still outside staring at her dead brother. He didn’t have to be a vampire to tell that. She went up on tiptoe and tried to keep him in place when he pulled away.

“See how horribly wicked I am. My brother lies dead outside and all I want to do is make love,” she said and let her fingers slip into his. “Come and make me forget all about it.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Buffy.” Spike lifted her hands and punctuated his words with a kiss to the back of each of them. “You’re not wicked. And you have every right to grieve. I don’t want to stop you doing that. We just can’t spare time for it now.”

<i>Angelus would love this,</i> Spike thought. The way he was stealing Buffy away, not physically, but mentally through self doubt and recrimination. The unbearable guilt would separate them more surely than if Angelus killed her.

“Spike do you think he’s been turned?”

“Doesn’t matter if he has. I’ve taken care of it.”

Buffy’s head snapped up. “How?”

“Don’t ask me that, love. Just know we couldn’t take the risk.”

Nodding slowly she pushed a hand through her hair then looked at the half-packed trunk that lay in the middle of the bedroom floor. “Shall we finish packing?”

“We should,” he said, his spirits lifting at her attempts to piece herself back together. “We can’t take everything, but I’ll make it up to you when we get to America.”

“Everything I need is going with me,” she said quietly, but with conviction in her voice. As if she hadn’t had to think about her response because it was already there, in her mind. “Make love to me before we leave.”

“I’d like that,” Spike said touching her bandaged arm. “Buffy, don’t let anything Angelus does come between us, remember why we did this?”

She regarded their wounded arms with eyes blurred by more tears which she sniffed away and refused to let fall. All she managed was a nod and Spike could see that she’d given as much as she could just then.

“I’m just going down to the library to choose a few books to take with us. Are there any you want me to bring up?” he said stepping back and giving her space. “You’ll be alright by yourself for a while?”

“Choose me some,” she said opening the wardrobe and staring inside. She ran her fingers over the hanging dresses and lingered on the black silk. “None of this seems important anymore.”

“Wear it,” he told her. “If it makes you feel better.”

“I’d like to, if you don’t mind. It would be expected.”

Lost and lonely. Sad and in pain. His demon picked it all up, but without the usual relish. A mere few weeks ago it would have been howling with glee and salivating at the thought of such sport. But instead, it just stood by and, like him, paid silent witness to her pain.

Spike knew that he couldn’t take it away from her and neither could her feel it for her, although he gladly would have if he could. The sight of her standing there so subdued tore at him, but one thing he was more sure of than anything was her strength. For a few more hours she could indulge her grief and deep down she probably knew that. The smile she gave him was tremulous, but meant to reassure and he took it at face value, resisting the urge to cross the room and hold her. She knew she had his strength whenever she wanted it, but now was a time for her to search deep inside herself and find hers again.

“Death couldn’t take you,” he reminded her before turning and leaving the room.

For all his concern about her he hadn’t realised how much, until now, it had been focussed on what he needed and his feelings. She was always more than happy to give him the constant reassurance that he craved, the declarations of love that he needed to hear and the physical love that his body lusted after. But, just lately he was learning to put all that aside and simply trust her. It was the first time since he’d met her that he would truly have let her walk away from him, if that’s what she wanted. But, ironically, he couldn’t do that now because of Angelus.

‘We should have gone to her,’ his demon said. ‘Does she not need our strength right now? That’s something I can give. And she asked for lovemaking, yet you rejected her. Why?’

‘It’s not what she needed, and she knows we didn’t reject her. She knows we’re here for her,’ Spike told it. ‘I suspect what she needs more than anything is some thinking time. Time alone to sort through her feelings. Only she can do that.’

‘She thought I’d killed her brother.’

Spike reached for his favourite book and tucked it under his arm. ‘Do you blame her for that?’

‘Not really.’

The demon fell silent as Spike continued to scan the shelves, every now and then pulling a book down and adding it to his pile. They couldn’t take them all and most of them were one’s that had come with the house, anyway. The last one he found in the desk, in a locked compartment that he rarely opened. A small notebook with a leather-bound spine and a silk ribbon to mark the pages. William’s last diary. The best reminder of the person he used to be and something he’d been tempted to destroy more than once, but had never had the courage to. Perhaps he’d show it to Buffy sometime. It would give her a good laugh, if nothing else, he thought.

‘She’d never laugh at us, not her.’ It was William this time, urging him to open the book, asking with a quiet desperation that he not be forgotten in all this. Spike dropped his pile onto the table and fingered the leather binding of the book that had been his constant companion in life. Forever scribbling, that was William. Poems, observations, hopes and expectations, they were all here. The ribbon marked a page near to the end and his eyes misted over as he reminded himself of the dreams that William never got to fulfil.

And William was so far forward at that moment that he didn’t hear Buffy come in. She stood silently beside him and rested her head on his arm, as together they read the words and shared the emotions. Sadness for William, for things that he’d lost and, for his demon, relief that she’d come. And for Spike? He reached around her and pulled her close feeling for the first time a strange kind of harmony with all the people that he was, and had been.

The lover, the friend, the monster and the man. They were all starting to blend in a way they never had before. The monster finding love and the man finding courage. Both of them wanting to be there for her. Each complimenting the other. William tempered the demon’s anger and the demon helped William to believe in himself. And she was the catalyst. The real miracle in all this.

Buffy traced his rib cage with careful fingers. “How could I have thought you’d killed him?” she said. “Do you forgive me?”

“Of course,” he said, without hesitation. “And you must forgive me for bringing you here to kill you.”

“I did that a long while ago,” she said. “I should have told you.”

“Thank you, love. Means a lot.” Spike closed the book, glad now that he hadn’t burned it.

“There’s still a lot of him left,” she said. “Sounds like he was stubborn and passionate and that he had a habit of reaching for the stars.”

“That’s our William. Always dreaming over the most beautiful girl in the room. Made a prat of himself more than once with inappropriate declarations of love. His timing was terrible.”

Buffy hugged him in sympathy and Spike felt a flash of a different kind of vulnerability. The kind that comes when you’ve really nothing left to hide and your trust in another being is tested to the full. It was telling that he’d shown her his demon before he’d let her see this. “Shall we go and finish packing?” he said attempting jollity. Thinking of William made him want to weep at the best of times, usually with embarrassment, but lately with real sadness. Her quiet understanding, however, was threatening to floor him completely.

“We should,” she said turning to him. “But first I have to say a few things.”

“Yes?” Her fingers dropped a little lower and Spike felt himself responding to her gentle exploration. “Tell me love,” he said.

“First, words,” Buffy said taking both of his hands in hers and gazing earnestly up at him. “I love you very much, and thank you for understanding what I needed just now. I don’t think I’ll ever get over his death and some guilt will always remain, but I will be able to live with it, because I do know what’s important, Spike. And I understand about Angelus now. He hurts me when he hurts you and he hurts you when he hurts me. That’s how he works, isn’t it?”

Spike nodded and Buffy seemed happy that she’d worked it out. When he tried to speak she stopped him with a finger on her lips.

“No, let me say this,” she said. “You said you’d do anything to save me, didn’t you?”

Again he nodded and again she stopped him giving any further answer than that.

“Then you have to know that I’d do the same for you.”

“No love.” Spike wasn’t going to be silenced this time. “You’re not sacrificing yourself for me, I’ll never be worth it.”

“It’s my choice, love,” she said repeating his own words back to him. “I don’t want you to do anything stupid for me, either. But I know I won’t be able to stop you, if it comes to that. Just as you won’t be able to stop me.”

“This is seriously scaring me, love. Please tell me you’re not going to do anything rash.”

“Well, of course I’m not.” She drew him over to the sofa as she spoke and urged him to sit. “I just want you to know that I intend to fight for you too. And now, I need your attention for a while.”

Spike already knew why. As they’d been talking both of their bodies had been talking too. Asking age old questions and responding with timeless answers. He was hard, she was wet and they wanted each other. Sometimes it really was that simple. Her fingers worked at releasing him and he had his usual good-natured grumble about women wearing too many clothes. So many times he’d asked her to show him how much she loved him and she always did. But now she wanted to make the ultimate sacrifice for love, and he wished he’d never said it. Almost wished he’d never demanded that she love him this much.

They both cried as they came. Her face was wet with tears that she tried to wipe stubbornly away, but his, he let fall so that when he kissed her they mixed and became each other’s. And he was no longer crying because she’d said she felt brave enough to give up her life for him. Strength like that he could respect in a strange kind of way. But, to be in receipt of the kind of love that motivates people to move mountains was a truly humbling experience that shook him to the core and made him feel stronger than he’d ever felt.

“Thanks, love,” he told her as they put themselves back together. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“I’m glad.” She looked over her shoulder from where she was standing at the window, staring out into the garden. “It will be dark soon.”

“I know,” Spike replied and picked up his pile of books. “But I think we’re ready for it. Come on love.”

-------------------------------------------

It wasn’t the first time Buffy had been in the carriage since Spike had brought her to the house, as they’d actually made love in it on more than one occasion. But it was the first time she’d been outside the gates in what seemed a very long time and the feeling of disorientation that built up the further they got from the house, surprised her.

“It was sad watching you lock the gates, Spike. Did you feel it?”

“Not really love, don’t get attached to places anymore.” Spike made himself comfortable and patted his lap. “Why don’t you have a sleep? Be a good few hours before we get to Southampton.”

Buffy laid herself down and tucked her skirts under her legs. She’d worn the black silk not just because it was an ingrained convention, normal rules didn’t apply anymore she knew that. But somehow it made her feel more in control and as if she was doing something for her brother. Whether he deserved it or not was another matter.

“He was always so scared of going to hell. I hope God’s been merciful to him.”

“Who, your brother?” Spike tipped back his head and stretched out his legs. “He should have thought of that before.”

“Do you think he might just go to purgatory for a while instead? Or don’t you believe any more?”

Spike laughed at that and Buffy lifted her head. “You mean because I’m a vampire? That doesn’t stop you believing, just makes it more certain.”

“Why’s that?” she said lying down once more. “I thought you didn’t care about God and such stuff.”

“Oh, I care alright. The way I see it is that the more black and white things become, the more heaven and hell start to look like real places. The more evil you do, the more you think of hell and vice versa.”

“I suppose so,” she thought turning it over in her mind. “Most people don’t have to think about it, they just assume that after a short while they’ll end up in heaven. Whereas evil people must know for certain they’re going to hell and very good people must be assured of their reward in heaven. Is that what you meant?”

“Something like that. You never cease to amaze me, do you know that?”

“Why?” she said snuggling further into his lap, already feeling him responding to her strategically placed head. It made her smile to herself.

“That we’re having a philosophical debate about good and evil when you should be fainting with fear, like a good Victorian heroine.”

Buffy made a dismissive sound and rolled so that she was looking up at him. “Sorry for my collapse back at the house. I needed it, but I think I’ve sorted myself now. No swooning, or wilting from now on. Got my trusty stake, and I’ve got you to fight for. What else do I need?”

“One of these, perhaps?” Spike bent his head for a kiss and she felt the reluctance with which he pulled away. “Stop distracting me,” he said smiling down at her. “We have to stay focussed.”

“You kissed me,” Buffy replied with mock indignation.

“Because you’re distracting me,” Spike countered. “Did you write your letter?”

“I did, it’s in my bag. But why couldn’t I tell then where to find the body? They’re going to need closure and a burial would be the best way for them.”

“Should be fairly obvious, pet.”

Buffy furrowed her brow. “Because of the bite marks? But they’ll never connect them with vampires.”

“There’s nothing left to collect love. And you’d be surprised if you knew just how much your father and the church knew about vampires.”

Buffy’s stomach gave a lurch at Spike’s words as, unable to stop herself, her mind ran through all the possibilities of what Spike might actually had done to her brother to make sure he didn’t rise. “I don’t want to know,” she said swallowing hard and raising her hands. “You did what you had to, but don’t tell me any more.”

“Don’t panic, love. I won’t. But be prepared to see with new eyes when you get back into the world. It’s all there, people just don’t look properly.”

Was it a price worth paying? Buffy covered her face with the back of her hand and tried not to think about her handsome brother with a stake through his heart, or even worse, beheaded. Everything that he was turned to ashes and dust. They all went there eventually and Spike was only doing it to protect her. It was convenient for her pretend squeamishness for the parts of being with a vampire that she found distasteful. Convenient, but very wrong.

“Tell me what you did to him,” she said. “I can’t hide from all these things, much as I want to. Otherwise I’m just living a lie, in my own little fantasy world.”

Spike gazed down at her long and hard, then he nodded and made a slashing action with a balled fist. Buffy acknowledged it with a nod of her own and then she rolled her head so that she could take it in and looked out of the window instead. A fine drizzle and an overcast sky lent the countryside a sombre, grey flatness. It wasn’t very dark because it was midsummer, but Spike had pronounced it safe enough for Alex to drive the coach. They were on the main coast road that connected the small port with the larger one at Southampton and as darkness finally fell the world narrowed down, once again, to one where only she and Spike existed.

There was danger and there were threats, but lying cosily in Spike’s lap, his comforting arms holding her, Buffy was having a hard time connecting anything evil to the two of them. She’d imagined scenes from a penny novel with the carriage careering out of control as it was pursued by Angelus, laughing uncontrollably as he drove a coach pulled by the hounds of hell. They’d run to the boat and up the walkway just as he screeched into the dock and then he’d stand and gnash his teeth and shake his fist as they sailed away into the sunset.

Only that could never happen because the boat wasn’t going to be conveniently waiting for them to arrive just before it departed. And Spike would have to have his coat on his head if the departure was during the day. And from what she’d heard, Angelus had a little more class than that. He gave a lot of thought to his debauchery and sadism so that if he caught up with them, they probably wouldn’t know it until it was too late.

Spike raised his eyebrows questioningly when he saw that she was smiling to herself and she picked up his hand and kissed it.

“Wish we could stay just like this forever,” she told him with a sigh. “If we get to America, I’m going to write a book,” she announced.

“Let me guess,” Spike said. “With yourself as the heroine.”

“Of course. I’m going to fight evil wherever I find it and I’ll be strong and brave, but strangely attracted to a handsome, young vampire and who will make me question everything I’ve ever believed in.”

“So I’m going to be in it too,” Spike said with a grin. “Tell me more.”

Buffy settled in to her story telling, surprised at the way it was already fully formed in her mind. And Spike had been right when he’d said that the world was full of things that no one knew about. Creatures that lurked in the shadows of our imaginations and in stories told to frighten children really did exist, she had no doubt of that now.

“It’s such a fantastic tale, that no one would ever believe it,” she said. “And if there are such things as vampires, then what about the werewolves and ghosts and demons. They’re real too, aren’t they?”

“Women are a lot more clever than they look,” Spike said laughing at her expression when he said that. “There are things in this world that shock even me,” he told her. “And I’ve seen some stuff, I can tell you.”

“So we all move in the same world, live around each other yet half the world doesn’t know the other half exist?”

“That’s about it. And lucky for me I still look like a human so I can get away with it.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought that a person standing next to her in any crowd might not be as innocent as they seemed. How easy it was to imagine evil when it came dressed as monsters and demons, but when it hid behind beauty and charm and normality, to trick and beguile you then that was truly sinister.

After a rest stop during which she had the dubious experience of having to relieve herself behind a tree, they continued on their way. She found herself drifting off to sleep and when she next awoke it was much darker and she could make out the glow of lamplight in windows telling her that they were nearing a town or a large village.

When she was aware that the carriage had stopped once more she sat up rubbing her eyes, looked round for Spike and found herself alone. The carriage door was open and she spotted him outside, talking to someone. Buffy was about to call out to him when she realised that he wasn’t talking at all. In full demon mode and sucking vigorously on his victim’s neck he continued feeding with soft growls seemingly unaware that he was being watched.

And Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes away, even though she wanted to. This was what Spike was. It was what he did and she either lived with that or she left him. There could be no middle ground, no living in that fantasy land of denial that she’d thought about earlier. The victim had a dazed expression as the demon let go and Buffy jumped as Spike cracked the old man across the jaw then propped him up against the wall. It was one thing to know that Spike drank from her, but to see him feed so greedily and with such relish brought it home to her just what she was condoning by sitting by and doing nothing.

The victim lolled over sideways and Spike seemed suddenly aware that she was looking. His features dissolved back to normal and he quickly returned to the coach wiping hastily at his mouth.

“Didn’t want you to see that, love. Sorry, I was bloody starving.” He jumped back into the coach and called Alex to continue the journey, slamming the door and throwing himself onto the bench seat opposite her.

“And do you feel better now?” Buffy folded her hands carefully in her lap and studied them while she waited for his answer. Then, on impulse she got up and almost fell into his lap as the carriage jolted off. Spike set her in the seat, still keeping his distance and she could feel the tension radiating from him. It seemed to be a mixture of shame for what he had to do and defiance for the creature he was.

“Yes,” he said. “A lot better. I need to feed, Buffy, but you don’t have to watch.”

Buffy lifted a hand and let it hover in mid air for a moment as if she was thinking of something and she had to say just right. Then she reached into her sleeve and pulled out a lace handkerchief. “You’ve blood on your chin,” she said leaning towards him to wipe it away. With the other hand she held him in place, threading her fingers into his hair because she wanted him to know that she could live with this, and he needn’t withdraw from her because of it.

“If I hadn’t been here, he’d be dead now, wouldn’t he?” she said still holding him.

Spike nodded and rested his face in her hand, relief plainly written on his tense features. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s what I am.”

Buffy pulled him to her, resting his head on her shoulder. She felt the small kiss he placed on her neck and she was glad that she’d been able to witness what he’d just done.

“I won’t pretend it’s easy,” she told him. “But you didn’t kill him, that’s what’s important. I still believe in you, love. And I’m honoured that you want to change for me.”

Spike remained silently leaning against her and Buffy knew that the best thing she could do was to let him make love to her. Not only because it would show that she loved him and fully accepted what he was, but also because if would help him work off some of the tension that he was still shaking with. The practicalities of doing it in a moving coach were somewhat daunting, particularly since they were in a populated area. But there were blinds in the carriage so that with them pulled down it was unlikely that anyone would see. And Spike was her man, he needed her.

Buffy leaned back across the seat, drawing him with her and he reached over and pulled down the blind himself. There were a few moments of leisurely kisses during which she tasted the blood he’d just taken as well as struggled with her conscience over whether it was right to be doing this with a man who’d just nearly killed someone. His demon flashed in and out as his mouth covered hers, ever more demanding, and his tongue pushed insistently inside.

The heat between them ignited suddenly, his need for her overriding everything else as he fumbled for buttons with impatient fingers pushed up her skirts and yanked down her drawers. He always felt harder just after he’d fed and his thick cock pulsed and throbbed with borrowed life. Buffy held on to his shoulders as he bent one of her legs so that he could get deeper and thrust into her more urgently while he smothered her face with kisses. She understood that he needed to come, hard and fast so she encouraged him and let him set the pace until he was muttering guttural words of release as he spent himself inside her.

Usually, when it was like this, he’d immediately see to her needs, but this time he rested on her for a while and there was real gratitude when he thanked her for what she’d just given him. It was a sweet gesture and surprising, coming from a vampire who was so used to taking what he wanted whenever he wanted, with no thought of the consequences. But he always said thank you, always reminding her that there was some man left in this monster that he’d been forced to become. She played idly with his hair as he lay with his head on her breast and his now-soft cock slipped out of her. He sat up, reluctantly and pulled her with him asking for her handkerchief for him to clean her up, so she sat back and spread her legs for him as he slid to his knees in front of her.

The first touch of his mouth always jolted through her like a lightening bolt and she grabbed hold of his head to keep herself anchored as well as hold him in place so that he wouldn’t stop doing what he was so expertly doing to her. There might be quicker ways to be cleaned up, but his teasing tongue was by far the best way she knew. And she couldn’t have cared if the whole town had suddenly appeared at the window and watched them as he sucked on her sensitive skin while his hands stroked her thighs and held her for his pleasure and hers.

He clutched at her, almost painfully, his fingers squeezing her flesh as she jerked against him as much with the movement of the carriage as what he was doing to her and she came again, twisting at handfuls of his hair as she softly breathed out his name. Then it was her turn to thank him as he helped her back into her drawers and smoothed down her skirts for her.

It didn’t matter how many times they did this, nor where they were. Sometimes it was fast and sometimes slow. There would be sweet words of love, or words of lust and want that made her blush, but she’d never tire of it, that was something she knew for certain.

“When did you make me want you so much?” she asked him genuinely puzzled. If she analysed it rationally she shouldn’t be here and if she’d been listening to a friend telling her this, she’d be horrified and advising her to come to her senses and go home immediately. Here she was though. Clinging to this man and hopelessly in love. Addicted to his touch. But not lost as he’d said he was in her. Buffy knew exactly where she was and why she was still here and, since she’d met him, she was learning exactly who she was too.

Spike had seen her before she’d seen herself and he’d turned her around and inside out, and forced her to look places she’d never dreamed of, for parts of herself that had alternately surprised her and shocked her. He made her feel unbelievably strong, and then sometimes as helpless as a kitten. It all added up to the fact that, ironically, in a man who was dead she’d found someone who made her feel more alive than she’d ever felt.

tbc...

Chapter 15

The quietest time of the day is in the earliest hours of the morning. A time when the world of man is fast asleep and lost in dreams. Tangled in the limbs of lovers or lying in the comfortable familiarity of partners of many years. Warming each other with their breath. Mothers soothing crying babies, children waking in terror from nightmares, Spike felt them all. Their breathing and their heartbeats. Their blood pulsing around their bodies. He heard the lovers crying out their release and the sick and the old sighing with their last breath. It was his time of night. A time when his senses were at their keenest, when he'd usually feel well fed and satisfied and if there'd been sex then he'd have an extra spring in his step as he prowled the streets and revelled in being a creature of the night.

And even though he didn't do that any more, he still felt the pull of it and the tingle that set his nerves on edge. His demon still strained towards it, torn between its old life of quiet destruction and his new one here with Buffy.

She was staring out of the window at a world that was hovering on the brink of waking. Like him, she'd fallen silent and watchful as they'd entered the town, steeling herself and building up courage for the next stage of their adventure.

"Is this Southampton?" she asked in a whisper as if she didn't want to be the one to break the spell the world had fallen under.

"We're not going to Southampton, love," he told her, only now feeling secure enough to reveal his carefully laid plan. Her head whipped round in surprise then she looked out of the window again, her eyes wide as she took in his words.

"Where are we, then?" she asked him. "I thought we were catching the boat."

"Sorry about the deception, love." Spike looked down at her puzzled face and hoped fervently that his plan had been successful. "Needed you to think that's where we were going."

"To fool Drusilla?" she asked, the light of realisation dawning in her eyes. "But isn't she more likely to pick up on you than me?"

"Probably," Spike said with a sigh, "but I can't help that. I'm taking you north, Buffy. We'll get the train to London, then go on from there. How do you fancy disappearing into the wilds of Scotland? I'll buy you a castle on a windswept hillside."

Buffy took a few more moments to process his announcement then gave him one of her beautiful, dreamy smiles. The kind of smile that always warmed him inside because she did it just for him and because of him. "What do you think?" he said responding with one of his own, a moment of self indulgence for both of them before they had to face reality once more.

"I'd love it," she said settling against him to make the moment last longer. "We can be the mysterious couple that live in the old dark house and eventually we'll be used as cautionary tale to frighten children. People will talk about us in hushed whispers and legends will grow around us."

Spike had to laugh at her vivid imagination. "I wonder though if it won't make us easier to find. I mean, vampire, old dark house. Angelus isn't stupid."

"We'll go to Edinburgh, or Glasgow, or Aberdeen then. I've read about them, Spike. All we have to do is lose ourselves in the crowd." She snuggled closer as she put his thoughts into words.

"I don't care where we are as long as I'm with you. Do you think you fooled her?"

"Who knows, but it was worth a try. We can still go to America, but perhaps from Ireland in a few months time. You're not disappointed, are you?"

"Part of me is," she said, "but part of me was sad to be leaving England. There's so much of it that I haven't seen yet. And I'd like to see Europe too, some day."

"I'll take you, love. Italy's nice. Bit sunny, but nice."

"How will we get to Scotland, do you mean Alex to drive us all the way?"

"No, just to the railway station. We'll catch a train to London, then go north from there. Stop off wherever you fancy."

Buffy pressed her nose to the carriage window once more and Spike handed her the jacket she'd brought along. "Here," he said slipping over her shoulders. "You look cold." He helped her on with it then propped his chin onto her shoulder and looked out with her. "I love this time of the night," he whispered. "Everything's so still, yet the world's pulsing with life. I wish you could feel it too."

"Feels like we're the only two people left alive. Like we've stepped outside the normal flow of things."

She shivered and Spike tucked her jacket around her and rubbed her arm. Cold and fear, he could feel them both as she relaxed back against him. "Are you nervous?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied honestly. "But excited. My stomach feels fluttery but I'm hungry too, will there be food at the station?"

"Should be. I'll buy you breakfast as soon as they open. Have you been on a train before?"

"We used to visit an aunt in Brighton. Poor mama was convinced we were all going to die going at that speed. When will the earliest train be, do you think?"

"First thing in the morning, I should think." Spike settled himself back once more and Buffy joined him. "Then we'll have to get ourselves across London to King's Cross without me catching fire, and find a train to Edinburgh. You'll like Edinburgh."

"You've been there?"

"Been everywhere, love. Feel like I've seen everything too. Get some rest, there's nothing we can do until the station opens."

They talked for a while and then he felt her sagging against him as she drifted off into sleep. "That's right," he said quietly. "You go back to sleep and I'll wake you when it's time."

"I couldn't possibly," she protested, but within minutes, her breathing slowed and her head dropped onto his chest. Spike shifted her so that he could lean back into the corner of the seat and once or twice she muttered something and tried to wriggle herself into a more comfortable position so he stroked her hair until she relaxed once more. Even though they'd arrived there was nothing more to do than wait and it was easier for him to stay alert without distractions. Alex had parked up underneath an archway to avoid the morning sun and Spike thought that he'd leave him the carriage in return for the service he'd given him. A shame to let him go since he was so reliable, but he'd no doubt find another vampire to work for.

Slipping into demon face he concentrated hard, determined that neither Dru, nor Angelus were going to sneak up on him again. Vampires had been to the house and he hadn't picked it up. Probably not Angelus or Dru, they'd have got some minion to dump Warren's body, but someone had. Their scent had been on the body though, and he could imagine the young man's terror as Angelus had killed him because he'd witnessed him in action often enough.

'She's terrified, I can feel it, but she hides it well,' his demon observed.

'It's called bravery,' Spike told it. 'And I'm warning you now that I intend to challenge Angelus if it comes to it. It would be nice to know you were with me.'

'Challenge the head of the family? Do you know how serious a thing that it?'

'Well, of course I do,' Spike replied. 'That's why I'm going to do it. It's the only way to be free of him. Will you be turning into your usual heap of blubber at the sight of him, or are you going to help me? I don't stand a cat-in-hell's chance otherwise.'

'I prefer to call it deference,' the demon sniffed. 'I don't like Angelus and I certainly don't like his demon, but there are ways that things are done, have always been done.'

"So, what, are you just going to stand by and watch as he violates her? Turns her?'

'Of course not,' it said, affronted. 'She's ours, isn't she?'

'Yes, she's ours, and I need you to remember that. You have a choice in this, and I can't do this without you.'

'Break away from the family once and for all? You do know the consequences of failure, don't you?'

'Course I do, but that's not going to be an option. I reckon we're strong enough now, and we've got everything to fight for. I need Angelus to release me from the family bond if we're ever going to get any peace.'

"He could legitimately claim your life for such an affront, and he would too, he's been more tolerant of you than you deserve anyway.'

'Well, he got away with it with the Master, don't see why we can't.'

'You know full well that Darla pays Angelus' due for him. Why do you think she disappears back to her sire all the time?'

'He's not having Buffy. You know he'll turn her, don't you?'

Spike could feel the demon's struggle as it withdrew to process their discussion. There was little doubt that Angelus would turn Buffy, eventually. Especially if Dru told him that the last thing she wanted was to be a vampire. He listened to the small noises she made as she breathed and felt her pulse vibrating through him, reminding him what it was like when he had one. She slept and he watched over her, glad of this quiet time for contemplation and for gathering his courage. With or without his demon he was going to fight for her with everything he had.

All vampires liked their victims young and beautiful and Angelus was no exception. They liked them innocent and virginal too, but at least that was one thing that Angelus couldn't take from Buffy, Spike had finished off what her brother had started and sexually, anyway, there wasn't much left for her to learn.

'That's not entirely true,' his demon said and Spike shuddered at the implication of his words. When it came to sexual debauchery Angelus was a master for whom the boundaries of pain and pleasure blurred more often than not. And she'd never recover from it. Not as long as she remained human, that was.

'I need you with me,' he told the demon. 'This is one fight we can't afford to lose.'

The hours ticked by and the world started to come to life. Vendors arrived with their barrows to set up shop inside and outside the station. A shoe shine boy sat against the wall and set out the tools of his trade, waiting for custom. Cabs lined up, some dropping off passengers and their luggage. Men in business suits, families going on excursions, young couples just like them. Hopefully he and Buffy could successfully disappear into the crowd, but it was too light for him to go outside without covering up. His trusty leather coat lay on the seat opposite and walking around with that on his head was bound to attract some attention to them, especially to those who knew what the were seeing, but it couldn't be helped. First class tickets might ensure them some privacy once inside the carriage and it was only a short walk to the station concourse.

Still in demon face, he stretched and rubbed at his tired eyes, scratchy with lack of sleep and he willed himself to stay awake because now, more than at any other time he needed to keep alert. A face suddenly appearing at the window made him freeze in mid-yawn and he jerked back in his seat, then relaxed when he saw a little girl with black ringlets gazing solemnly at him with large eyes. She didn't look frightened, merely curious, tipping her head as if she was trying to puzzle out what she was seeing. His demon reacted automatically, baring its teeth and growling softly and as Spike slid back into human face he knew that had this happened a few weeks ago the child would be dead by now. She still looked puzzled at the change in him, then she looked back over her shoulder as if she was being called by someone. Giving him one last look and a hint of a smile, she jumped down and was gone.

Spike shook Buffy gently to wake her and wondered at the strangeness of a vampire who didn't kill any more. As a human he'd always firmly believed in the power of love. He'd had no doubt that it would drive people to incredible feats of sacrifice, if not insanity and here he was, living proof of that power. Instead of accepting his fate he was starting to question it. Going against the natural order of things so that he didn't know what to call himself any more. It had always been there, his demon had called him an anomaly more than once, but the reason hadn't been plain until he'd met Buffy. Love conquered all, it was a well - worn cliché, but so true. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her.

As she stirred and sighed into wakefulness his demon stepped forward and studied her long and hard.

'She's certainly worth dying for,' it said. 'And I would, die for her.'

With that statement, William and the demon moved another step closer to each other, united in a common purpose and Spike embraced both of them with a huge sigh of relief. Together they made a formidable team and he wanted to shout out loud at the feeling of strength that surged through him.

"What's so funny?" Buffy said in a raspy voice as she struggled to clear away the cobwebs of sleep. "You're grinning."

"Am I?" Spike answered, knowing full well that he was. "It's maybe because I've just realised something," he told her and pressed a light kiss to her lips.

"Oh yes, and what might that be?" She kissed him back and leaned against the seat, yawning widely. "Tell me."

"We're going to win this one. That's what." He caught her for another kiss, more passionate this time as the feeling of exhilaration surged through him. Buffy giggled as he pressed her into the seat and growled playfully into her neck. Kissing the scar he'd given her there, and vowing that no other vampire would ever overlay his claim to her.

"We're stronger than he is, Buffy, just got to keep believing it."

He'd have made love to her right there and then if they hadn't been parked outside a station that was rapidly filling up with people moving all around. With a sense of purpose he'd never felt before he helped her to gather up their things and then jumped down from the carriage with his coat draped over his head. Buffy called over a porter who took a step back when Spike, still hidden under his coat, lifted the huge trunk all by himself and put it on the trolley and within minutes they were on the busy platform clutching their tickets, and waiting for the train.

Buffy sat on the trunk and he could sense that she was finding the crowds overwhelming after being out of the world for so long so he sat next to her and slid his arm around her waist, while the porter stood by waiting to load it in the luggage car for them.

"You two just married are you?" he said genially and winked at Spike. "Got that look about you."

Spike nodded and winked back. "Going to Bath for our honeymoon. I hear it's very nice."

"Never been, myself," the porter replied. "You'll be wanting to find Paddington Station when you get to London. That's the west-country line."

Spike nodded again. "Thank you," he said trying to put on an innocent face. Let this fellow think he was just a clueless provincial, Buffy certainly looked nervous enough to pass for one and it wouldn't hurt to cover their tracks a little. She'd hidden her left hand as soon as the conversation had started and when the porter had taken a few coins from him to fetch them some tea Spike slipped a ring from his little finger and put it on her ring finger.

"It's got a skull on it, Spike," she said, scandalised.

"Turn it around then. We can't be married if you don't have a ring. I'll buy you a proper one as soon as I can, but that will have to do for now."

She gave in good-naturedly and twisted the ring round so that the face didn't show.

"It's alright love," he said when he saw her looking around. "I can tell if there are vampires around. They won't get anywhere near us without me knowing. It's fine."

"And he can't send them during the day, can he?" she asked in a hopeful voice.

"Just got to get ourselves on that train to London," he told her. "Then we're home and dry, I reckon. For a while anyway."

"There you go." The porter announced cheerfully as he returned with a man pushing a refreshments barrow in tow. "Best cup of tea in town, at your service."

Spike stood up and searched his pockets for some change. Buffy accepted the hot tea gratefully and he bought her a meat pie for her breakfast because he remembered how William had always had one whenever he'd gone on a train journey and it seemed fitting.

He stayed standing as he drank his tea, senses alert, but everything seemed normal. The crowd broke into a collective bout of coughing as the train steamed into the station, smoke from the stack billowing everywhere as it passed under the bridge. A blast from the whistle and a shower of hot cinders caused another flurry from the passengers, then they all surged forward looking for their seats. Spike paid the porter who wheeled away the trunk and then he picked up their hand baggage and with an arm around Buffy's waist he steered her towards the first class carriage.

There was a small gap between the train and the platform, but since it was so overcast it wasn't too much of a problem for him and they found their seats and settled themselves into them. Buffy pulled down the blind and Spike sat himself in the corner furthest away from the window after stowing their luggage onto the rack.

It was all so normal. From the outside they looked exactly as the porter had imagined them. A young couple very much in love and starting out on their married life. And it was a good sign that neither Angelus, nor any of his minions had turned up yet. The further away they got, the less likely he was to find them and Spike found himself counting off the minutes until the train departed. Buffy peered at his watch with him and squeezed his arm.

They might look like any normal couple, but they were far from that. An elderly gentleman was their only companion in the compartment as the train set off with a lurch and a slamming of doors. Buffy explained to him that the blind needed to stay down because Spike had a medical condition and he accepted it without question, disappearing behind his newspaper. And then they were on their way.

Spike felt his eyes closing as the train rocked back and forth, gathering speed, and he shook his head and forced them to stay open. Vampires he'd detect by smell, but it wouldn't hurt to keep all his senses alert. Buffy took a book out of her bag and he dropped his head to her shoulder and read it along with her.

"We're going to win this one," he repeated to himself as the words started to blur. Buffy's mouth twitched with the hint of a smile when she heard him and she moved her thigh against his to acknowledge it. He said it again, pressing his mouth against her ear and she stifled a giggled and gestured with her head towards the gentleman, who was still hidden behind his paper.

It became his mantra as the train made its way to London. To be successful he needed to believe it with everything he had and every time he repeated it he felt a little stronger and believed it a little more. William and the demon were Spike. He'd always thought of them as separate and had had no idea just how strong he could be if he could only get them to work together. All they'd needed was the proper motivation and that was sitting beside him, warm and alive, quietly determined and engrossed in her book.

She was his reason for everything just then and nothing was going to take her away from him.

---------------------------------------

London hummed with its own special energy and Buffy was in something of a daze by the time they got themselves across town to King's Cross Station. Spike bought tickets for the overnight sleeper to Edinburgh, checked the trunk in at the left luggage desk and then there was nothing left to do but wait.

"You look tired," she observed as Spike pocketed the luggage ticket. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Not really." He took her arm and steered her through the crowd. "How about we check into a hotel for a couple of hours? Better than sitting here and we can get something to eat and have a rest."

"Sounds like a good idea," she said almost having to run to keep up with him. "But nothing is going to happen now, surely? Even if they know where we are, we're well ahead of them."

"Always best to be sure," Spike said as he pulled her along. "Dru has a habit of knowing what people are going to do before they do themselves. But we'll be fine," he added when he saw the panic on her face. "Wouldn't you like to freshen up?"

"That would be heaven," she said wishing she hadn't worn the heavy silk dress. It was far too fancy for mourning anyway and she'd very foolishly worn a corset with it because it didn't look right without one. Spike caught her look of discomfort.

"What's wrong?"

"Corset," she said pulling a face. "Need to take it off."

"I can help you with that." Spike pulled her closer and sniffed at her neck. "Love the way you smell when you're all hot and sweaty."

Buffy straightened abruptly and pasted a sweet smile on her face. "Spike," she said through clenched teeth. "People are staring."

Spike looked around too. "No they're not, got better things to do. Come on, let's go get you out of that corset."

People were staring, Buffy hadn't imagined them. Spike was being far too over-familiar with her, for so public a place and they'd received more than one scandalised look, mainly from elderly matrons who seemed to automatically disapprove of any contact between the sexes in public. And in his haste to get her to the hotel, Spike had, more than once, nearly knocked someone over in his efforts to get her quickly through the crowd.

"Spike, slow down," she pleaded with him. "I can't run in this dress, I'm too hot."

"Sorry love. You shouldn't have mentioned the corset." He slowed his pace and allowed her to catch her breath. "You're glowing, love. Suits you."

"I'm about to expire," she complained fanning her face with her hand. "Is London always this hot?"

"It's all the people, and the smoke. You'll feel better when you get outside."

She did, but only a little. Spike had been right, the crowds were stifling. Everyone seemed to be breathing on her and that mixed with the acrid stench of the smoke and oil was starting to make her feel quite faint. "Which hotel?" she said noticing that there were several conveniently placed around the station all quite grand looking.

"One where I can get some decent blood." They stood in the entrance while Spike arranged his coat over his head and handed her the carpet bag he'd been carrying. "Can you manage that while I get myself across the road? Need to make a dash for it"

She took the bag astonished at his words. "They serve blood in hotels?"

"If you ask the right person for it, yes. This is London, love. You can get anything here. Got to be quick, come on."

Sometimes things happen so quickly it's not until afterwards that you're able to piece the events together. Buffy felt a small wave of optimism wash over her as she reached for Spike's gloved hand. The nausea caused by the station environment was easing and her corset didn't seem as tight. And suddenly it was all starting to feel like an adventure. Like a giddy schoolgirl, she wanted to laugh for no other reason than she was in the middle of a busy London street with Spike.

Then somehow he lost the coat. One moment it was draped over his head, the next it was snatched away and he was left, standing on the bright street corner, vulnerable, exposed and starting to burn. She heard him swear loudly and cover his head with his hands, then he was fumbling with his jacket. Frantically trying to get it off to use for protection as he motioned her to follow him back inside.

Four police officers immediately appeared at the station entrance and Buffy naturally assumed they'd seen the theft and were coming to their aid.

"My husband's coat," she said waving them over. "I think the thief went that way."

"No, Buffy." Spike snatched at her hand, but the policemen got to her first and before she knew it two of them had her and she was pulled, shouting Spike's name, towards the parked police cab and shoved inside. A few people stopped to stare, but no one thought it amiss that a young thief had been appropriated in broad daylight. It happened all the time, and they always went screaming and protesting their innocence. Spike's fate, she didn't see, even thought she twisted round, vainly trying to see if he was coming to her aid. The vehicle lurched off and Buffy threw herself, in desperation towards the door, but they had her again as she struggled and swore at them.

"Calm down, miss," one of them said. "Don't want to have to cuff you. You be still."

She looked from one to the other. "What am I supposed to have done?"

"I said calm down, miss. We're just trying to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Buffy struggled again until one of the officers produced a pair of handcuffs and dangled them in front of her frightened eyes. "You want us to put these on you?"

She shook her head. "My husband will be worried about me, please, take me back so this can all be sorted."

The two officers smiled and nodded at each other as if they were privy to some fact that she wasn't. "He said you'd say that."

"Who did?" Buffy stared at the cuffs that the officer was still dangling from one of his fingers and she clasped her hands together so that he wouldn't be tempted to use them.

One of them searched his jacket pocket, brought out a printed paper and gave it to her.

"Your brother," he said. Pulling out a notebook he flipped it open and squinted at the page. "You were abducted by the man known as Spike." He stopped for a grin, raising his eyebrows at the name and then continued. "He lured you away from your loving family with false promises of marriage and naturally, they want you back."

"It's their belief that you thought you were on your way to Gretna Green in Scotland to elope," the other officer chipped in. "Just be a good girl and we'll get you back home in a jiffy. This happens all the time. Young girls getting their 'eads turned. Forgetting their duties to those who really love them."

Buffy listened to the words with a growing sense of disbelief and dread at Angelus' ingenuity. The cab was rattling along at a fair pace and with the blinds down she couldn't see where they were going. A cold, sick feeling washed over her as she realised that every second was taking her further away from Spike and straight into the waiting arms of evil incarnate.

"What have you done with him?" She almost didn't dare ask. Spike would have fought with everything he had to get to her. The fact that he hadn't made it worried her far more than her own predicament.

"They'll have arrested him and I expect he'll end up in prison. Best place for him miss. Menace to society men like that are."

"You mean the two officers back there?"

The officer frowned as Buffy threw herself back into the seat and closed her eyes. Then she started to laugh. A high-pitched, hysterical sound which very soon turned to tears. Two men couldn't take Spike, she was certain of that. She took in great gulps of air as she fought for control, knowing that this wasn't the time to break down. There was still a chance of escape, Angelus didn't have her yet, and she needed to be calm enough to see it and take it when it presented.

"He's not my brother," she said angrily brushing away the tears. "The man who sent you after me, he's the one who means me harm."

The officer sitting opposite her made a tutting sound. "There there, miss." Reaching into his pocket he brought out a handkerchief and held it out to her. "You blow your nose and stop worrying. I know this has all been a bit traumatic, but your brother's been very worried about you."

She took the handkerchief and also caught the wink that the officer gave to his colleague.

''How much did he pay you?" she said wondering why she was so shocked at such corruption.

"Handsomely," the officer said with a grin. "Generous man, your brother." He emphasised the word brother as they dropped all pretence that they were there to help her.

"How do you know you have the right girl?" she said clutching at straws, at anything.

The officer reached into his pocket again, bringing out two pencil drawings, one of her and one of Spike.

"It doesn't look anything like me." She swallowed hard and blew her nose as the officer had instructed. Sitting herself up straight she looked him in the eye. "We'll pay you more. Spike has money, just take me back."

"Tempting," the officer said leaning back into his seat, "but you see, Mr Angelus said he'd be right mad if we didn't bring you in, and he doesn't seem to the kind of man we want to anger at all."

The other officer laughed at the thought. "I 'ear he's got a bit of a temper." More laughter, then he shrugged. "Sorry about this. Nothing personal, like."

Spike had been so sure Angelus would send vampires after them that they'd completely overlooked this possibility. Buffy's attempt at bravado completely failed when tears forced themselves from her eyes once more and the officers sat back confident that she wasn't going to cause them any more trouble.

Poor Spike would be beside himself and, if they had him he'd never have gone quietly so they'd probably had to hurt him. And what if he'd lost his jacket in the struggle? He could be dead now, burnt to ashes and she'd never see him again.

The whole dream crumbled before her eyes. The hopes faded and all the plans they'd made evaporated to nothing. Buffy felt completely helpless, as her happily imagined future shattered and floated away like dust in the wind. For a few moments she sat, stunned into silence by the inevitability of her fate. One of the officers started humming a jolly tune and the other idly let his hand fall between them so that it rested against her thigh. Buffy saw the look they exchanged and she hastily moved her skirts so that he was no longer touching her, a ripple of fear tingling her spine. The man let out a soft laugh and dropped his hand to her knee.

"Mr. Angelus will have something to say about that," she said knocking it away with a shaking hand.

"D'you reckon?" the officer said putting it back a little higher on Buffy's thigh and squeezing hard so that she yelped with surprise and pain. "We'll just 'ave to tell 'im your friend Spike did it, won't we?"

"Don't you dare touch me," she squeaked out. "Mr. Angelus will have you both killed if anything happens to me."

"Leave it out, Jim." The officer sitting opposite her kicked his colleague with the toe of his boot. "You know what he's like."

"Was just a bit of fun," he grumbled, but removed his hand none-the- less."

Buffy scooted along the seat and shrank into the corner as the officer rattled the cuffs again. "Spike will come for you," she told them. "And you'll both die horribly. Let me go now and I might be able to talk him out of it."

"Vampire is he?"

Buffy didn't answer but the officer didn't need her to. He chuckled at the change in her expression. "Hear they don't like the sun."

"Mr. Angelus wouldn't want him dead." Buffy drew herself up again trying to put on a braver face than she felt inside. A castle in Scotland, that's where Spike was taking her. Or a house in Edinburgh, where they could live a semblance of a normal life. And these two men thought they could snatch it out of her grasp?

Her whole body started shaking as fear was replaced by the kind of recklessness that either leads to great achievements or gets you killed. As she pieced the dream back together in her mind she saw her and Spike, the two of them living out the future they'd planned. Hope rose again as the feeling of recklessness took on a desperate edge. Death couldn't take her. And neither would they, she thought as the cab slowed. She kept very still, waiting for her moment, eyes downcast and lulling them into thinking she was subdued and broken.

The officer sitting next to her lunged at her as she pushed open the door. Without hesitation she jumped out, picked up her skirts and ran as fast as she could into the street, pushing haphazardly through the milling crowd of shoppers. A big mistake, she realised it immediately as the police whistles sounded behind her and they shouted for people to stop her. A man stepped up to block her way and when she turned there was another behind her, hemming her in as if she was some mad woman escaped from an asylum.

And she thought she must have looked it by now, with her hair escaping from the knot she'd rolled it in and streaming down her back and her eyes wild with fear and desperation. Both the men and the police officers closed in on her as she faced them and as her gaze flicked to each of them in turn she knew there was nothing left to do but fight.

It's what Spike would do, and what he'd taught her to do. The gathered crowd collectively gasped as one of the men went down, with a strangled shriek clutching at the front of his trousers. Buffy lifted her skirts and gave him another kick for good measure before one of the policemen spun her round and pulled her back, hard against his chest while the other struggled with the handcuffs. She managed to scratch his face before he locked her hands together and then fumbled for her flailing legs and lifted them clear from the ground.

It's not over, she thought as they shoved her back into the cab and threw her on to the seat to a faint ripple of applause and cries of bravo.

The officer she'd scratched picked up his discarded handkerchief and wiped his face. "Stupid bitch," he said when he saw the blood and without warning he raised his hand and cracked her across the cheek with an open palm.

The sound split the air and the blow spun her around so that her face hit the back of the seat and for a moment she just lay there stunned and fighting to stay conscious. It's not over, she repeated muttering the words more to herself than anything, feeling her cheek burning where the man had hit her. But they must have heard her because one bent very close to her ear and she smelled his stale breath as he answered her.

"Not over?" He said. "Not bloody likely. It's just starting love."

"Don't you dare call me that," she ground out, unable to move now that he was pressing down on her. "Spike is going to cut you into little pieces for this."

"Well, that's the trick," the officer said leaning even more of his body weight on her. "Has to find you first, doesn't he? Love."

Buffy twisted herself as his hand pulled her hair away from her neck and hot fingers poked at Spike's bite mark with careless disregard. It was tender, but she flinched more from the violation of a thing she considered sacred, than the pain.

"Oh he will," she said gritting her teeth as he pulled her upright by her hair. "Make no mistake about that. He will come for me. And I promise you, hell will be coming with him."

tbc...

Chapter 16

For all his strength, Spike was left helpless when during the scuffle, the two police officers snatched the jacket from him. He had no option but to run for cover and, with them in pursuit he looked frantically around for Buffy.

Nothing. Only the faint scent of her remained at the place where the cab had been parked. Not enough to help him find her. Once they'd put her inside the vehicle he'd effectively lost her and he hadn't even seen which direction they'd taken. Despair and frustration threatened to crush him as he imagined her terror and her disappointment in him. All his senses had been tuned in for vampires and Angelus had run rings around them.

William wanted to curl up on the spot and cry his heart out. His demon wanted to explode into a frenzy of killing. Spike just wanted her back.

The officers charged into the station after him and after one last look at the place where she'd disappeared he took off once more. Finding Angelus wasn't going to be a problem. Getting there before he did Buffy irreparable damage, was.

The crowd fell back with screams and cries of indignation as he shoved his way through, then slowed down when he realised that he was losing his pursuers. A group of young men decided to help by grabbing hold of him and trying to bring him down but he shook them off easily then darted into a side corridor at the end of which was a door.

It was locked, and effectively he was trapped.

Just the kind of odds he liked.

His demon growled and rose to full strength. She was the reason he'd stopped killing and she was his reason to start again. Justice was his to mete out. And these two would be first.

The door gave way easily and Spike left it open because he wanted them to see where he was. <i> Stupid humans,</i> he thought and moved to the shadows as they approached. One was carrying a stake, as if he was going be able to use it. The other his truncheon. They were both large men, obviously aware of what he was, but confident in their ability to take him down. There was very little fear, but that was soon to change. The Demon growled again and the men looked up.

Spike had always loved that expression. Usually their last. The face they made when they realised exactly what it was they'd become entangled in. Even Spike was surprised at the speed and strength that was now at his command. True, he hadn't exercised his full demon for some time so perhaps he was just forgetting how it used to be. But he didn't think it was that. This was Buffy. For Buffy. He was strong, but she made him stronger. His determination to get her back and destroy anything that might stand in his path lent him an edge that made him feel as if he could fly if he had to.

The first one died without a sound. Spike snapped his neck and without a backward glance let him drop to the floor. The other tried to run away, but Spike kicked the door closed backed him into a corner and let him have a long, hard look at the creature that was about to kill him.

"Where did they take her?" Baring his fangs he leaned closer. "I'll let you live if you tell me something I want to hear."

"I, I don't know." The man slid down the wall, incoherent with fear and Spike felt his temper rising to boiling point.

"I don't have time for this," he said taking the man by the collar and battering his head hard against the wall. For a moment he thought he'd killed him and he cursed his impatience, but the man groaned and looked at him through bloodshot eyes.

"To Mr. Angelus, that's all I know. " The policeman fell back again and Spike crouched in front of him, took his face in one of his hands and made him look directly at him. There were people in the corridor, he could hear them coming closer, gathering outside the door and he knew he wouldn't be able to escape that way.

"You'll be dead by the time I count to five if you don't tell me what I want to know. Where can I find Angelus?"

"I don't know."

Spike squeezed hard, drawing blood as his nails broke into the man's cheeks. "Yes you do," he said. "One."

The man shook his head again. "He'll kill me if I tell you."

"I can stop him. Two. Three."

The officer coughed, then his glance flicked to the door as the sound of scuffling and muttering voices came closer.

"Four." Spike gripped the man's neck with his spare hand and closed his fingers.

"Knightsbridge. Carlington Square."

"Number," Spike growled out. "Which house?"

"Don't know," the man rasped. "Said we was to park on the south side and wait."

"Did he tell you to kill me?"

"No, was Henry's idea. Wanted to say he'd taken out a vampire." The man laughed then spluttered as it turned into a cough. Rolling his head towards his dead colleague's body he suddenly seemed to realise just what was going to happen to him.

"I've helped you," he screeched and clutched at Spike's shirt sleeve. "You've got to protect me from him. You said you'd do that."

"Said I'd stop him killing you," Spike said calmly. "Because he can't kill you if I already have, can he?"

The man's head split as it hit the wall. Spike stood up and went to the door. People were outside, now involved in a heated debate over whether they ought to intervene or not. With a twist of the handle he broke the lock so that it couldn't be opened without being battered down then he went back to the bodies. The money they'd stolen from his jacket had already been divided up between them and he stowed it all in one of the uniform jackets, then stripped it off the body. It was too big for him, but he'd need it for protection. The other one he pulled off to cover his head and then he looked around. The window would provide an exit albeit into the bright daylight, but it was the only way to go.

Only one thing remained as someone tried the door handle, then rattled it. Spike knelt by the first body, bared the neck and sank his fangs into the still-warm skin, stealing the life force that the man no longer needed. Filling his veins with power and strength.

And when the crowd finally managed to break down the door they were met with the horrifying spectacle of the two pale corpses, their faces frozen into grotesque death-masks, their limbs twisted uselessly. Curtains wafting gently at the shattered window, the floor littered with blood-stained glass.

As he dropped to the ground and darted into the shadows, Spike heard it all. Their gasps of horror, their screams. Voices shouting. He saw people looking out of the broken window, this way and that. His whole body shook from the high of the kill and his veins felt as if they might burst from the heat of the blood he'd so greedily taken.

Shaking off his demon he slipped back into human face, threw the jacket over his head and set off. The first cab he flagged down refused to take him because he was after all parading around wearing a policeman's jacket that was far too large for him, with another on his head and the man obviously thought him a lunatic. The second took no persuading other than the banknote Spike waved at him. Jumping gratefully inside Spike pulled down the blind and flopped back into the seat.

The demon had indulged his moment of mayhem, and in that regard he felt a lot better. But what of William? His pain was still there, raw and aching and Spike couldn't stop his tears. They squeezed out, warmed by the new blood, wet his cheeks and splashed onto his shirt. Spike let them fall. Let William cry for her, and for what they'd lost, then they all needed to harden themselves for getting her back.

Because he was getting her back. Angelus might have started this, but Spike was going to finish it. And for the first time ever, he truly believed that he could.

-----------------------------------------------

The pain in her cheek was a welcome distraction. Buffy focussed on it, trying desperately to keep it in the centre of her vision. It was something real, it anchored her and she needed that. It had all happened so fast that a part of her was still on her way to Scotland with Spike. They'd have made love in the hotel and again on the train. She'd been looking forward to seeing Edinburgh with him and that castle on the misty hillside. In her mind she'd already travelled there and back, and in the blink of an eye it had all been taken away.

So, when her mind screamed this can't be happening, the pain in her cheek told her quietly that it was and at the moment there didn't seem anything she could do about it. Sitting rigid and stiff between the two policemen, she thought of Spike and refused to entertain any possibility that Ahe'd been caught. She also tried not to think about the carnage that would inevitably ensue once he found her. Or the damage it would do to his journey of redemption.

That was the most heartbreaking thing of all.

"Where are we going?"

"None of your business."

The policeman folded his arms and leaned back into the seat. Buffy could see by the angle of his head that he was looking down her cleavage, but there wasn't anything she could do to cover up since she'd stowed her jacket in the trunk. Learning experiences come in all forms and here was one for her. The black silk ball-gown had seemed perfectly appropriate as a travelling dress back at a place where'd she thought nothing of wandering around in her underwear and petticoats all day. But this was the real world and it hadn't only been Spike that people had been staring at back at the station.

"It's very much my business," she replied, but tried to keep her tone deferential, not wanting to anger him further. "You know Angelus means to kill me, will you have that on your conscience?"

"I haven't got one," the man said curtly. "And you talk too much. We'll get there when we get there, alright?"

"No, it's not alright. Angelus isn't going to like it when I arrive bruised and battered, have you thought of that?"

He raised his gaze to her face then shrugged. "Not our fault if you wouldn't come quietly. Now shut your mouth. Or I might have to give you a matching pair," he added inclining his head towards her reddened cheek.

"My father's a bishop."

The second policeman, who was by far the quieter of the two let out a noisy guffaw at that, and Buffy jumped at the sound. Then she nearly laughed herself at the ludicrousness of it all. A bishop's daughter who'd run away from home because her brother wanted to bed her. Who'd tried to become a prostitute and had ended up living with a vampire. Kidnapped by corrupt policemen so that another vampire could her turn her. Yes, it would make a fine comedy.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the pain instead. It was far more motivating, but by the time they arrived at their destination it had dimmed to nothing and all she had left was gut-wrenching fear that almost robbed her of her voice when she tried her captors with one last plea for mercy.

"Spike has a lot of money, you can have it all. Your colleagues will be dead by now, and so will you be soon, if you don't help me."

One of them at least had the decency to look uncomfortable as he handed her down from the cab. "Told you, it's nothing personal, we just do as we're told."

She was quickly pushed into a much larger carriage that was parked on the roadside outside a typically grand London terrace, helped up by two younger men who were careful to stay out of the sun. Buffy didn't need that to tell her they were vampires. She could feel them. It shocked her how much in tune with this bizarre world she'd become and they grinned broadly at her, showing blunt, human teeth, but their message was clear. She acknowledged it with a lift of her chin, telling them that she knew what they were, and that strangely enough, it didn't frighten her half as much as she'd thought it would.

It was a world turned upside-down, where human corruption and the perversion of those who were meant to protect could shock her beyond measure. But where coming face to face with two vampires almost seemed normal. This was her world now and all of a sudden the black ball-gown seemed perfectly appropriate attire. Exactly what one would wear for a date with the devil. They watched her with a focussed intensity, much the same as Spike had when she'd first met him and her skin tingled as she felt the demons hovering behind their human masks.

Buffy didn't dare close her eyes. Nor did she show any fear, even though she was now swinging wildly between bravado and terror. Spike had taught her so much about his world and she knew they were picking up every emotion, that they could smell her panic and feel the tensing of her muscles. Probably hear her stomach churning too. No escape opportunities presented and Angelus must have spelled it out to them because they took their job very seriously, not taking their eyes from her once. Neither did they acknowledge any of her attempts to communicate with them.

The strong jerked the chains of the weak. They took what they wanted by fair means or foul and there was no in between. Buffy knew that if there was any way to get through this then she had to think like one of them. Time for her to remember the strength that Spike had seen in her, the strength inside. It was worth every bit as much as physical strength.

And time for her to decide exactly what she was prepared to do to protect those she loved.

--------------------------------------------

Carlington Square was lined with four blocks of regency terraces flanking a central park-like area fenced in with iron railings. Very much like the house William had been brought up in.

But not Angelus' style. Spike shaded his eyes as he pushed back the blinds enough to see out. Too public for a start. Angelus was a vampire in the classic sense of the word. Liked the big house, nice and isolated with gates that could be locked. And far away from other houses so no-one could hear the screams. If it was spooky-looking with a few turrets here and there, all the better. He used to say that the victims almost expected it. That he felt he'd be letting them down if he didn't provide a bit of spectacle.

The driver jumped down and opened the door. "You getting out, or what?" he said narrowing his eyes as Spike shrank back out of the shaft of sunlight that fell onto the seat.

Spike reached into his pocket, thinking it was a good thing that he was feeling well fed. His nerves were on a hair trigger and the faintly insolent tone in the man's voice was more than enough reason for Spike to kill him there and then. "Here," he said, not even bothering to count how many notes he'd handed over. "That should be more than enough to buy your services for the day. And for you to keep your mouth shut."

The man stepped back a well practiced look of indignation on his face. Spike reached into his pocket again.

"You don't see anything, you don't hear anything. You just do as I tell you."

"At your service, sir." The man pocketed the money suddenly full of smiles again. "Discretion is my middle name. Wouldn't believe some of the things I've had to do. Why once…"

"Do I look in the mood for conversation?" Spike glared.

"Er, no." The man stepped back again holding up his hands. "Anyway you want to play it. I'm your man."

"Good." Spike looked him up and down, wondering how reliable he was going to be. The bright sunshine meant that he couldn't do this without human assistance and he'd paid the oaf probably more than he earned in a year. No matter, he'd retrieve that when he'd finished with him. "I can't go out in the sun, medical condition," he said in answer to the man's puzzled looks at his reluctance to leave the shady corner of the cab. "I need you to look out for a police cab. When it arrives, tell me, alright?"

The driver nodded. "Police cab? Someone in trouble then?"

"Yes, police cab - are you deaf as well as stupid." Spike just about managed to hold onto his temper. Much as the man irritated him he would be useful.

The sound of a scream from the grassed area behind them made them both stop and look up. It was quickly followed by a child crying loudly and a woman's scolding voice.

Spike waved the driver towards the gardens. "Go ask them if they've seen it."

"Seen what?"

"The police cab, you idiot. Go."

The man saluted and disappeared through iron gate while Spike anxiously craned his neck and tried to hear what they were saying. After several minutes of outrageous flirting with the uniformed nanny he returned.

"Good news, sir. They saw it. Been and gone." He grinned. "Seems you're off the hook."

"Bugger." Spike closed his eyes. Angelus liked his games and Spike could well envision a wild goose-chase all over London by the time he caught up with Buffy. If he ever did. He balled his fist at the vision of what Angelus might be doing to her, and punched a hole right through the cab's leather seat causing wool and horsehair stuffing to fly everywhere.

The cabdriver spluttered. "Now, look here," he began, but he didn't get any further. Spike had him by the collar and hauled him unceremoniously into the cab until they were virtually nose to nose.

"Listen carefully," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. Fear poured off the trembling man in a rush and Spike's demon strained to be let lose. "First of all, I have a very bad temper and you don't want to make me angry, have I made myself clear?"

The man nodded vigorously.

"Good." Spike felt himself calming a little. "I need to find this police cab, alright? We're going to wait here for a while and see what happens. I have a feeling there may be a message for me? Got that?"

"A message. Yes." More nodding.

"And, just to make sure you don't bugger off and leave me, you can have this when we've finished." Spike had his money back before the man even noticed. "I'll double it if you make me happy."

The cab driver eyes nearly popped out of his head and his face fell. "H-How do I know you'll pay me?" he stammered.

"You'll just have to trust me." Spike let him go and the man scrabbled to his feet. "A letter, a message, anything just keep your eyes open. And remember, I'm not a patient man."

"Yes, sir." It was a little less enthusiastic now that he no longer had his money, but he eyed it hopefully before returning to his seat at the front of the cab.

Spike sat back and concentrated. She'd been here, it was very faint and he couldn't tell how long ago, but he hadn't missed her by much. Less than fifteen minutes had passed before he'd been on his way after her. He sniffed again. It was all he had left of her. That and the rapidly healing wound on his arm. Mending too fast to leave a proper scar, he thought gazing at it in panic. So he squeezed it hard, re-opened it and let the blood drip onto the wooden floor.

Count the ragged-edged splash marks and feel the pain. Take in every last, lingering hint of her and wait. Not Spike. Every second could be the second he'd regret for all eternity. There was no way he could sit here and wait. Angelus had to know he'd be coming for her, Dru would have told him that. She'd have felt the challenge.

And his grand-sire would have risen to it with his usual elaborate ingenuity. Liked to weave his complicated plots and dangerous intrigues, did Angelus. Detail was everything to him. He span beautifully dark webs into which he manoeuvred his victims with painful precision. And he'd know exactly what Spike was going through.

Didn't hurt to send it again, Spike thought. He pressed his knuckles to his eyes and images of Angelus and Dru floated in and out of his vision. The horror he'd felt when Dru first revealed herself to him, Angelus pinning him against the wall. The way they could both expertly tangle pain and pleasure. Buffy in the middle of it all.

Damn it to hell, where is she? His fist made another hole in the seat, caught on a nail and drew more blood.

"Fuck you. Angelus. I'll play your game," he shouted. "Your rules, anything you like. Just bloody tell me what to do."

Knowing Angelus he'd choose some poncy weapon, where Spike would have preferred fist and fangs, but it didn't matter. He wasn't going to win. Spike sent that message too.

And he got his reply. Angelus knew him too well. Within five minutes a young lad skipped up and asked for Mr Spike.

"In here," Spike shouted.

The game was on again. The young lad bearing the letter came closer than he ever knew to being eaten when he refused to hand it over until Spike had given him a farthing.

Spike didn't have a farthing so he handed over a banknote, which the boy flatly refused. "Man said it had to be a farthing, nothing more nothing less. Said 'e'd tan my 'ide if I took anything else."

Spike jabbed his finger at him. "I'll bloody take you hide off your back if you don't hand that over. Now," he ground out.

The boy threw down the letter and dipped back as Spike lunged at it. Good sense prevailed when he saw Spike's darkened expression and he took off back to where he'd come from while Spike ripped open the envelope.

An address at the top, embossed in gold lettering. Expensive looking paper, heavy and watermarked. Angelus' distinctive script. Very few words, but they told Spike what he needed to know. The gauntlet had been picked up and everything was in place. Time to find out whether he was going to live, or die. Time to finish it once and for all.

"Highgate," he told the waiting driver. "Bradford Park."

The man scuttled to do his bidding and Spike stared at the carefully written words, trying to hang on to enough anger to spur him on to victory. Yes, he felt it and the rage, his nerves were screaming with it. But overlaying it was a tremendous sadness that he hadn't got to Buffy sooner. A heavy, aching regret that he'd let her down. And that was his weakness in all this. A weakness he couldn't afford right now.

Spike crushed the paper in his hand and threw it at the wall of the cab with all the force he could muster.

The vehicle jolted away and Spike slipped back into his demon mask. No room for William now, he needed the rage and he needed the pain. Needed to remember how much of a monster he could be.

Ironic that, much as he'd tried to be a man for her only his demon could save her now. The man he pushed far back into the recesses of his mind. So far back that he might never emerge again.

Victory always comes at a price. In the heat of battle precious things are often lost but the balance must be weighed carefully and if the prize is worth it you pay gladly.

Neither of them was going to come out of this unscathed or unchanged. What he was going to find when he got to Buffy, he had no idea. Angelus had told him all about Dru, how chaste she'd been and how good. How he'd feasted on her innocence, hollowed her out and filled her with evil and madness. How he'd shaped her into a monster, like him.

Buffy was stronger than Dru had been, but when you've looked into hell the pictures remain forever burned into your mind. Your sight will always be tainted by it.

Spike pushed back his sleeve and sank his teeth into his arm, tearing at the wound so that the ragged flesh gaped and the blood ran freely. He wanted it open and raw, determined that it wasn't going to heal until this was over.

And his mind, he emptied of everything that was good and filled it instead with the deepest darkness. In the name of love, he embraced the blackest evil and set himself willingly on a path that would lead him straight to hell. For love, he would kill again, maim and destroy and sink as low as he had to go.

And in all of this he had to trust that love was strong enough to bring him back.

------------------------------------------------------------

You can imagine yourself brave. Picture how it will be, rehearse the speeches in your head. But it isn't until you're confronted with the nightmare that you know whether you're going to stand firm, or run screaming in terror.

As a man or a vampire Angelus would have cut an impressive figure. And if she could have run away, she would have. All her bravado evaporated to nothing the moment he appeared and she realised exactly what she was dealing with.

He'd been watching her, not for very long, because she'd only just arrived, but she'd sensed his presence as soon as she'd sat down. He carried his authority with an easy grace, lacking Spike's nervous energy, his power tightly controlled, but she guessed, always on show.

"Nice to see you dressed for the occasion." He leaned against the doorframe, casual in his appraisal of her, but missing nothing. No use in hiding it from him, so she didn't bother that the hand that gripped the arm of the chair trembled and her teeth chattered as she replied.

"I'd hate to disappoint," she said tightly.

"Oh, I'm sure you won't do that." His arm dropped abruptly and he was across the room in what seemed like two strides. She should be used to the speed at which vampires could move, but it still took her aback. And Angelus was a master, in every sense of the word. He towered over her with dark confidence and then offered her his hand.

"So," he said in a conversational tone. "Shall we be properly introduced?"

"Before you kill me?" Buffy kept her hand firmly on the chair.

Angelus clicked his tongue. "Now then, what's our William been telling you about me?"

"That you're a sick, sadistic monster." She raised her head.

He laughed. "Always one with the compliments, our William. Don't go believing everything he says. I think you'll find us quite civilised."

"He's coming for me."

"Oh yes." Angelus dropped his hand and took out his watch. "I give him, say thirty minutes before he comes barrelling in through that door like the proverbial bull in a china shop." Tucking it carefully back into his pocket he smoothed down his jacket and clapped his hands together. "Which doesn't give me a lot of time, really. You must forgive me, I do like to be a little better prepared than this."

The room was large and square, furnished with the simple elegance of the Regency. The candy-striped sofa was hard and only gave a little when he sat down beside her. Buffy choked back the cry that sprang to her lips. Deliberately close, his big body flush with hers, he pressed her into the corner of the sofa as he leaned into her, his dark, shoulder-length hair caressing her cheek.

A faint tang of cologne mingling with a vaguely musty smell clung to his skin reminding Buffy of damp earth, death and decay. He was cold, like Spike and his body was hard and solid against her. One of his large hands slid behind her neck and Buffy sat very still, conserving her energy for when a better opportunity to escape presented itself. Or for a time when she could use the stake she had concealed in her dress.

"He's going to challenge me, did you know that, Buffy?" His fingers tightened and drew her closer to his face. "It's the only way he'll ever be free of me. And when he fails then he'll be completely at my mercy."

"He won't fail." She could feel his thumb rubbing against Spike's bite mark and see the way he was gazing at it intently. When he pressed against it she felt blood ooze out and he sniffed appreciatively.

"William always did have good taste, but he always shopped far beyond his means, poor boy, never knew how to hold on to a woman."

Buffy shook off his hand and to her surprise he let go and sat back. His casual nonchalance didn't fool her however, but neither was she prepared to sit and let him terrify her. He lifted a strand of her hair, studied it and let it drop.

"What scares you the most, Buffy?"

"As if I would tell you," she said feeling a little braver, since he didn't seem in a hurry to actually do anything to her. Perhaps he wasn't as bad as Spike had made out? She could only hope.

"You don't have to," he said dropping his hand to her shoulder. "You're a very beautiful woman. I can see why William was so taken with you."

"Please, spare me the flattery," she replied and then screamed out loud as, in a flash he was on top of her, his hand down the front of her dress squeezing her breast and his mouth a hair's breadth from hers.

"That's got your blood racing," he said with a chuckle, and then his lips descended to hers, and kissed her until she was bruised and gasping for air. One hand kept up the pressure on her breast while the other hauled up her skirt. And then just as abruptly he was off her.

She'd been as prepared for it as she could have been. Of course he'd want to rape her. Invade her most private of places in an act of violence and physical dominance. He'd want to erase and dirty any memories of Spike's lovemaking. Want to show her how weak she was and how little say she had in all this. But the one place doing this wouldn't touch was her mind. He could hurt her body, humiliate and disgust her, but mentally he wasn't going to touch her, because she wasn't going to let him. And somehow he knew it.

"That's not the way, is it?" he said looking at her with something akin to respect.

"It's just a physical act," she managed to say, even though she was still trembling all over from the assault. "Spike will still love me if you rape me, it's not going to stop him. And I shall endure it, even if you hurt me."

"I'm sure you will, Buffy. And that's my problem. I could torture William, or should I call him Spike, that would do it, but unfortunately he isn't here. Or I could torture you, but I have a feeling you would endure it like some bloody, boring martyr, so it really wouldn't be much fun." Steepling his fingers he sat back and frowned.

"Turn her."

They both looked up and Buffy took in a sharp breath at the dark beauty standing before them. It could only be Drusilla and she was every bit as mad a Spike had made her out to be, Buffy only had to look at her to see that.

She waved her arms dramatically and made a pronouncement about clouds burning in the sky then she walked gracefully to Angelus, her arm outstretched. "She doesn't want to be a vampire."

"Does anyone?" Angelus took Dru's hand and for a moment they were so engrossed in each other that Buffy seriously considered making an escape attempt. The moment she moved however, Angelus' hand shot out and grabbed her own.

"Now then, where are you off to?" he said without looking up. Drusilla sat down on his lap and engaged him in a noisily passionate kiss, which she presumed was for her benefit, and all the while Angelus kept Buffy in his painful grip.

They broke apart, at last and Dru giggled. "Spike wants her human. So turn her."

Angelus smiled. "Ahh, I see. But of course I'll turn her, sweetheart. With Darla spending so much time with the master I'm finding my bed rather empty of late."

Dru growled and scraped her teeth down his cheek. "Got me, haven't you, daddy?"

"We'll add another to the harem, shall we?" he said and while he talked his hand slowly made his way up her skirt and disappeared between her legs.

Buffy watched, stunned as Dru groaned and threw back her head, completely oblivious to the fact that she had an audience. Still trapped by Angelus' body Buffy could do nothing to avoid the spectacle but close her eyes. After a few moments she heard them both laugh.

"Quite the prim little thing, aren't we?" Angelus removed his hand and inspected his finger. Dru leaned forward and sucked it into her mouth with another throaty moan, her eyes never leaving Buffy's face.

"Don't tell me William's never done this to you Buffy,"

She couldn't stop the heat flooding her cheeks as pictures of her and Spike doing the same thing filled her mind. Only now, rather than an erotic expression of love, it just felt dirty. Angelus missed none of it.

"That's more like it," he said sliding his hand over her thigh. "Want me to do it to you now. Like your brother used to. Shall I make you scream, Buffy?"

"He did not." Buffy pushed herself as far away from him as she possibly could, which really wasn't very far given that they were all rather squashed on the small sofa. "You're disgusting," she said trying to bat away his hand without success. He dipped it lower, pushing the material of her skirts between her legs, pressing against her with hard fingers. She couldn't move because his elbow was jammed against her stomach and his broad shoulder wedged her against the arm of the sofa. All the while he kept his other arm looped around Dru, who was staring at her with a small secretive smile, tilting her head this way and that as if she knew something that Buffy didn't.

"And you're a challenge. Do you know how much I love a challenge, Buffy? Come now, don't be shy, seems to me that between him and Spike, you're a woman who likes a walk on the wild side."

"You killed him, didn't you?"

"Your brother? It was my great pleasure to do so. Screamed like a baby at the end, so he did. Let's see if we can remember his exact words. What was that bit about paying the devil, Dru?"

"I don't want to hear it." Buffy covered her ears, but Angelus told her anyway, all the while pinning her to the chair with his rough caress. By the end of it she couldn't stop the tears from falling. Not for herself, he was hurting her, but she was determined to endure it without giving him satisfaction, so she did. She would cry for her brother though and the terrible death he'd been subjected to.

"You can't hide it," he told her, his voice a low rumble. "You smell too sweet."

"You're wrong," Buffy told him and closed her eyes so at least she didn't have to look at him. She could tell by his voice that he was getting aroused too so she kept as still as possible and focussed on what a monster he was.

"Darlin', this is getting us nowhere." Angelus removed his hand and huffed, almost as if he'd become bored by her lack of response. "Spike will be here soon, and we haven't succeeded in terrifying this one nearly enough. Are a few tears all we're going to get?, She's got to have a weakness. Be a good girl Dru and tell me what it is."

Dru tipped her head to the side and gazed at her again, the madness gone for a moment to be replaced by a clear-eyed look that made Buffy feel as if she could see right into her mind. Frantically she rearranged her skirts which were still bunched between her legs and attempted to block her thoughts with trivial inconsequential ones, but it was nigh on impossible. The more she tried, the more she could only think of the very things that did terrify her.

"Spike," Dru said at last. "Little girl would die for him."

"And she will, princess, but I'd like him to watch that and, as you can see, he's rather not here at the moment. I want him to have a nice surprise when he arrives though. Something really special and specific. Come now Dru, you know how I like to get these things just right. A body part, maybe. Shall I chop something off and present it to him?"

Buffy nearly choked at his words. Not so much at the intention, although that was horrifying enough, but more at the cold cruelty in his voice. The relish underlying the words.

"Then she wouldn't be beautiful any more."

"True," he said nodding his head in agreement. "And we like this one, don't we, Darlin'?"

"I wish Darla was here. She'd love this." Dru suddenly clapped her hands, a gleeful expression on her face, like a child who's just won a prize at a fairground. She leaned towards Angelus and whispered close to his ear.

He raised his eyebrows as she spoke and kissed her on the end of her nose. "What would I do without you?" he asked as she sat back happily, her hands still looped around his neck.

"Can I go first?" Dru asked him. "Spike will be here soon, got to make her pretty for when he arrives."

"Be my guest," he said genially. "But the neck's mine," he warned.

It was almost as if she wasn't there any more. While she sweated and shook with barely concealed fear beside them, they discussed her fate as if they were exchanging gossip at a dinner party. Completely oblivious to the fact that she could hear them, or perhaps that was part of the torture? If so, it was working because Dru had picked up on everything. She'd tell Angelus exactly how to make Buffy's nightmares a living reality.

Buffy bolted from the seat, the stake in her hand as she made for the door. Neither of them moved until she was reaching for the handle and then they were both beside her so fast that she didn't see them cross the room. That was disorientating enough. She looked from one to the other in disbelief and then lunged at Angelus with the stake. Perhaps Spike had been kind to her when they'd practiced this back at the house? This time it got nowhere near its intended victim. Angelus had it off her, twirled it in his fingers and, with a grin, threw it over his shoulders.

"You have a sense of humour I see," he said. "I like that in a woman."

Buffy felt their demons before they changed and with a cold stab of fear, knew exactly what was coming.

Spike's demon had never really scared her. Grotesque and evil as it was she knew that Spike would never let it hurt her. And recently she'd started to get the distinct impression that it too was capable of a sort of love. But the two that stood before them had nothing human to temper them and hold them back. No confusion over what they were. No inner conflict with the remnants of their conscience. They knew exactly what they were and exactly what they wanted as they dipped towards her.

Dru latched on to the tender skin on the inside of her unmarked arm while Angelus twisted her neck to the side with a painful jerk and stabbed her hard with his fangs. All pretence at gentility faded as they growled and slavered over her like rabid wolves acting just like the monsters they were. Her struggles were mere tokens as they pinned her against the wall, each attempt of hers to break free only making them feed more enthusiastically.

Angelus held her up as she jerked in time to the painful sucking and then felt herself weakening as the world around her spun. And all she could think of was that she hadn't said goodbye to Spike. The next time he saw her she'd be a vampire and he'd never forgive himself.

"That's enough," Angelus growled at Drusilla then put his hand to her face and pushed her off, knocking her to the ground. With her vision blurred, Buffy couldn't see whether they were back in human face or not, but she guessed they were by the fact that their voices had returned to normal once more. Dru giggled and lay back on the carpet holding her hands to Angelus in invitation.

"Not now, Dru," he said and Buffy's world tilted as he swung her into his arms. "Spike will be here soon, don't want to disappoint the lad, do we?"

Buffy felt herself being laid down on the sofa and she watched, helpless, through half-closed eyes as Angelus stripped off her dress, arranged her limbs just so and then went to work on her hair. There was no energy to fight him. Her arms felt like lead and the bites ached with an agonising intensity. They would scar, of course and be a constant reminder of them. A mocking mirror of the ones Spike had given her. He'd marked her with his love and they'd marked her with their hate.

The finishing touch was a rose pressed into the fingers of the hands he'd crossed carefully over her chest just as one would with a corpse. Dru hovered in and out cooing and approving Angelus' handiwork and warning him that Spike was very close. Neither of them made any attempt to stem the flow of the blood and the feeling of it trickling from the wounds and soaking into the white cotton and lace of her underwear made Buffy want to vomit.

The commotion in the hall sounded muffled and far away as she slipped into darkness. She heard Spike's voice and thought that he called her name, but the blackness claimed her before she could answer him. Before she could tell him how sorry she was that she'd been so pathetic in all of this. That she'd capitulated without so much as a whimper. She'd let him down.

And she hadn't even said goodbye.

Tbc…