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When Buffy floated through the fog up to consciousness, bang, bang, bang, pain slammed through her brain. Her head was beyond pounding. Next she noticed that she was being dragged between two super sized vampires, no help for her pounding head let alone her freedom. Just as well that they were dragging her because her feet were tied and her hands were also tied behind her back. She was kidnapped and ready to serve upon a silver platter. However, she would worry about that when thug one and thug two dropped her wherever they were taking her, and she had no doubt that they were going to drop her once there. Dragging and dropping, they go together. She may have no mobility, but she did have time to think about her captors. She had fallen for their bait just like any of the newest of new slayers. All the vamps had to do was hang out a platinum blonde, male vampire as bait, and she was off and chasing. She had wanted to believe so badly, but no, Spike was dead. Gone. But she wouldn’t make the mistake again. Say it three times. Spike is dead. Spike is dead. Spike is dead. Now believe it you dumb bimbo, Buffy ordered herself.

Besides the meat heads carrying her, Buffy could hear two vampires behind her and could see one in front. As she caught glimpses, the rooms they passed through were large and spacious and the halls wide. Down a smaller side hallway, they finally came to an open door, and she was roughly tossed into a small windowless room with no furnishings. Bare walls, bare floors. A cell. And tossed? Close enough to being dropped - like she expected.

The two that had dumped her into the room departed, leaving the other three just outside of the door. The leader looked to be twenty or twenty-one, no telling how many vampire years, with his hair black and with eyes so dark that they appeared to be shiny obsidian. If he wasn’t the enemy, all grrh and fangy, she would have said that he was gorgeous even though he wasn’t blonde, blue eyed, and have sharp cheek bones.

Vassilious was anxious to confirm the identity of this slayer so he could move on with the next phase of Argonia’s plan. When the blonde woman laboriously made it to a sitting position, he spoke. His voice was strong and harsh as he stepped into the room. “My name is Vassilious and yours is…?” She just stared. “No answer? Relax my little but lethal guest. I don’t get my rocks off killing a slayer. They are just flies buzzing in cemeteries in that if they get in my way, they are swatted down. Otherwise I leave them alone. For example, your little slayer assigned to our island is still alive, isn’t she? That’s how insignificant you slayers are to us. All Mistress Argonia wants is for her clan to take over Greece and maybe start on Italy. And you? You have become a means to that end.”

He casually stepped farther into the room. “If you tell me your name, we can leave things in their natural order of a prisoner in a jail. But if you don’t give me your name, our goals can be temporarily altered.” He pulled out a double edged knife from his coat and slid it across his open palm, leaving a red trail. He nodded his approval at the blades sharpness. “This clan is multiplying every day, not just here but also on Greece and numerous other places. In stead of creating more fledglings to further increase our numbers, Mistress Argonia could send out the elders, not minions, but elders to hunt down every slayer, every watcher and kill them.” He held out his hand dripping blood onto the stone floor. “Gorgeous red blood would flow. After that, we will start hunting down their families.”

With that visual image playing in her mind’s eye, Buffy broke her silence. “You could never take out all the slayers.”

“No, I don’t think we could either, but we would take out quite a few while trying. Same with their families and their watcher’s families.” The slayer’s face still held an arrogant expression, but Vassilious knew he had her when her shoulders started to slump. “So, slayer, what is your precious name?”

‘When you’re fucked, you’re fucked,’ Buffy thought. Slayers knew now what they were getting into with their calling since they had an academy to learn, unlike she and Faith had. The new slayers knew that their chances of dying were high. But this master vampire hit below the belt. When he started talking about watchers and families, faces shifted in front of her face one after another. Giles, Dawn, Willow, Xander, Angel and Cordelia. And now new friends, Andrew, Faith, Robin, and all the new slayers. The thought of them being killed because she wouldn’t give up her name seemed ludicrous. “Ok. Vassilious is it? I will tell you my name. Buffy. Ann. Summers. Ring a bell?” Buffy was pleased to see the two elders behind the leader take a step back away from her. “You know of me?”

Vassilious tried to act as if she were just any slayer. “I might have heard of you. Were you the slayer of the Sunnydale Hellmouth?” On the exterior, he was cool and collected, but inside he couldn’t be happier. The Sunnydale Slayer was much more valuable than the Rogue Slayer that he had expected.

“You know I am. But let me assure you that if you go after my watcher, family and friends, you might like to know that my watcher was called the Ripper from past deeds that even he will not even talk about, my sister is a magical key, one friend is a very powerful witch, another is a slayer equal to me but stretches ethics sometimes, and last but not least, I’m sure you have heard of my first love and lover.”

“Angel. Pft. He is of little use as a vampire. He’s still dangerous, but not enough to worry about.”

“Really? Have you met Angelus?”

“Yes, in the 1870’s. He was eating a French family from oldest to youngest, saving the best for last. He was a sight to be hold, but he is now corrupted by a soul.” Vassilious didn’t know what to make of a slayer so sure that a vampire would come to save her. He knew their history, but he also knew that they were no longer together. Even if the vampire had a soul, why would he be so loyal to a human?

“Don’t be surprised when Angel channels some of his inner Angelus trying to save me. He will…”

Before Buffy could move, Vassilious pulled out a gun and shot her in the shoulder. Immediately, her vision began to swim. The last sight that registered was that of a dart sticking out of her. All faded to black.

Vassilious smiled. Strange, deluded slayer, he chuckled. Slayer bagged. Name confirmed. On to step three of the plan.

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Dinner time again, damn it, and this was to be a feast. Vassilious followed by four minions dragging three boys and one girl, all gagged and bound by ropes and chains entered the Sepatucci Clan’s mansion’s dining room. As usual, he braced himself before entering. It took a few minutes for Argonia to acknowledge him. “Vassilious, good. Glad you have joined us. How about you…”

Surprisingly, Vassilious found Argonia unoccupied, just watching those around her. As politely as he could, Vassilious dared to interrupt, banking on the good news he brought to smooth any ruffled feathers and hoping the diversion would avert her coming suggestion that could be distasteful. “Mistress, the mission was a success. We have her. The slayer is now under our lock and key. And mistress, she says that she is the Sunnydale Slayer.”

“Here’s hoping. Well done, my Vassilious. Tomorrow, call together whoever you think necessary, and we will finalize our plans for this slayer. Now come. Let me feel that victorious cock inside of me.” Argonia focused her eyes on his crotch and spread her legs.

This was one of those few times that made his existence with her worth it. Instantly hard and stripped, he pumped into her. He wanted to stretch out the experience, but she wouldn’t have it slow. Using a small whip, she struck him hard across his ass, urging him on faster until he came much too soon for his liking, but at least he came inside of her.

“Vassilious, so big , so good, and always a good fuck. Now be a good boy and suck off Meiko here while Angela eats me out until I come.

Nope, not out of there soon enough, he thought. Resigned, Vassilious reminded himself that he had learned to suck so good that the vampire in his mouth would come fast. So he sucked hard on the boy toy’s cock, he sucked as hard as he could, his cheeks hollowing out, while rapidly pumping his hand up and down the cock, trying to finish the guy off as fast as possible and get the hell out before Argonia sets some fledgling to his ass. As for the boy toy, Vassilious made a point to memorize the vampire’s face as he had done others lately. He would be waiting for the vampire, and with the help of his magic that he was beginning to secretly practice again, the boy and his cock would be dust that Vassilious would walk on as he left.


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He had been such an idiot going back to Club Erotokritos two nights in a row. When Spike felt the new slayer on the first night, he should have chosen the more careful route, avoiding the club the next night and patrolling a cemetery. No, he hadn’t been able to resist and again found himself tailed by the slayer, but tonight he could and would show some restraint. Now he sat in Minos, a demon club, and proceeding to get shnockered. That bloody slayer had practically pulled him to her, drew him with her strength and feel. He was fascinated by her, but he also wanted to keep himself on the smart side of dusty.

After his fourth drink, he began to relax enough to notice the energy and heightened sound level in the pub. No doubt it was about the entrance of the new slayer into the demon scene.

Spike extended his senses and began to eavesdrop. Yes, he heard the word “slayer” mentioned over and over, but then he started to pick up a word that began to chill his bones. “Kidnapped.” And yes, those two words were being said together. God, the new slayer had been kidnapped. Everyone was assuming it had been done by the Sepatucci Clan, and Spike agreed with the speculation. He listened for more, anything to pick up any clues that might let him help this slayer.

Then a driadra demon walked in the door and immediately headed for a table in the back. No wonder he wanted the back, he had more pieces to the puzzle to tell his friends in private. The slayer was very powerful. Well, that Spike already knew. The slayer was famous. That Spike hadn’t known, and he was starting to get a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Famous? And then he heard it, “Sunnydale.” Famous, powerful, and Sunnydale. It had to be Faith, he told himself. He prayed it was Faith. She had started in Sunnydale, didn’t she? She was powerful, she was famous in the demon world, and she was known to go to a hot spot or two. As far as he could tell, there were never rumors of Buffy traveling to help out. It had to be Faith.

He eavesdropped more, hoping for confirmation that Faith had been kidnapped, and then he would find a way to get her out.
“…No, not the Rogue Slayer. They think it’s the Sunnydale Slayer.” Spike felt numb from head to toe, and it wasn’t the drinks he had slammed down. The Rogue Slayer had to be Faith. That left a hellish nightmare. Buffy had been kidnapped. “No, no, no. No, NO!” Spike shot up out of his seat which brought more attention to himself than he wanted. He quickly sat back down. It never crossed his mind that Giles would have sent Buffy. Never in his one hundred plus years. He always assumed she was sticking tight to Angel, keeping Los Angeles locked down. Spike managed to finish two more drinks before he figured that he had again slipped back into anonymity in the demon world. Outside of the pub’s door, Spike ran.


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It was twelve hours and three darts evenly spaced out later when her guards entered her cell, and Buffy agreed to let them give her an injection of her sedative instead of shooting her with a dart. Her hidden agenda? To bring the vampires closer. She needed to take the guards out to make her escape, and how was she to do that with them across the room? After the chains were reinforced and before that first injection by needle, Argonia, mistress of the clan, paid a visit. Actually she came to gloat. “I’ve captured a slayer…your under my thump…dole out food to a washed up slayer”…yada yada. Through all the bullshit being shoveled, Buffy was able to learn a couple of details concerning her captivity. Instead of killing her like any respectable vampire would kill a vampire slayer, the cocky, greedy bitch was holding her to profit in some way. Besides not killing her, she also found out that Argonia didn’t want her to look misused. How did Buffy figure this one out? The mistress talked of saving her face as she only used her whip on Buffy’s legs. Whipped her prisoner, who was backed into a corner, chained to a ring in the wall. Some tough leader of a clan. What the red headed bitch vampire should have learned was that she was making a mistake concerning this blonde bitch slayer. The blonde bitch knew her friends would come for her and make the red headed bitch dust.

Shortly after Argonia left but before they had remembered her injection, a fledgling that was sent to serve her some fruit got too close to the prisoner. Buffy’s two guards couldn’t subdue her until she had ripped the head of the fledgling completely off. After that, she was drugged more frequently, with a different, stronger drug. Not the make-you-weak kind of drug like the Watcher’s Council had given her. More like the fuzzy reality, room swimming kind of drug. And that’s how she stayed. The drugs would begin to wear off, and then they would come in with another shot before she had it together enough to fight them. So she ate, slept and prayed that Giles would figure out that something was wrong fast and send the Scoobie cavalry.

A big change came when the bitch’s number one vamp, Vassilious, began coming to most of the times her food was delivered. When he was present, he even gave her the shots, which were now administered every three hours.

The first two times he showed up, Buffy just stared the black haired vamp down before and after he gave her the shot. To her surprise, he just stared back until he left. No words were exchanged. No words were spoken.

“A slayer in a cage.” On the third such visit, Buffy just had to get in a jibe. “Don’t feed the animal. Grrrh.”

He just watched her for a few minutes before speaking. “I don’t have to come to give you the shots. I could assign an elder.”

Buffy was creeped out. This sick fuck better not think she would let him… “Don’t even think about…”

Vassilious quietly laughed; his voice was just as quiet. “No, slayer. I have no desire in the way you are thinking. I neither want to bite you nor have my way with you, so to speak.”

As much as she actually was, Buffy didn’t want to let him see her sigh of relief. “So, what are you, like my keeper?”

“In a way. I am in charge of you, and I report directly to my Mistress.”

“I don’t need a keeper. Thanks.” Assessing her opponent, Buffy looked him up and down again. This vampire had power and wore it well, but not ostentatiously. Ooooh, big word, Buffy. “I’m still alive. I’m being fed. I will give you that. I must be a pawn of some sort, but I don’t think it has to do with you coming to see me. So why all this stare timeage, keeper.”

Pausing, he tilted his head. This slayer had already proved to be tricky. That he had expected. She had to have been to survive as long as she had. But surprisingly she was sounding like she had some intelligence, not just death and destruction beneath the beautiful outer shell. He had to make a decision. Truth or lie. Truth or lie. Truth. “I wanted to meet you.”

And Buffy recognized his truth as what it was but didn’t know what to make of it. She would have bet her new black boots that he would have lied, but he didn’t. Her words came out cold and laced with the hate. “So you’ve met me. Scram. Go find a stake to fall on.” Buffy turned to face the wall until he was gone. She needed time to think. Things were not what she had assumed them to be. As she had found in the rest of her life when she had finally opened her eyes to see, black and white were actually grey.


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TBC

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The next night was hunt night, and the starting place was the large ruins of Phaestos. While searching, Spike struck up the conversation that had been on his mind since Angel had landed. “So how does this redemption business go?”

As for himself, Angel was still adjusting to Spike being on the side of good. Accordingly it was just flat creepy hearing him talking about redemption. “To tell the truth, don’t know. Never been issued a manual, so you tell me.”

The blonde vampire took a long drag off of his cigarette. “Way I figure it, gramps,…”

Angel’s eye roll reminded Spike of Dawn. “Don’t make me smack you.”

“Sorry. Way I figure it, Grampa, I did enough goody goods to get resurrected, but the verdict’s still out on the redemption part. Now take your white ass. You’re crystal to the PTB. Human or bust. Shooting for heaven. Me, they can’t suss me out since all this Big Bad’s actions in the last few years, including winning my soul and dieing again to save the world, were my choices. No duty or sacred mission here. Just choice. All positives, but on the negative side, I haven’t been on the winning team long. Consequently, I suspect they still consider me a free agent to keep an eye on.”

Stopping, Angel stood and thought for a moment. Spike looked for smoke to come out of his ears. “Spike, the fact that you were resurrected should tell you that they have at least some confidence in you. Why else drop you down here again to wreck havoc? The way you have been going must be fine with them. Just keep going.”

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She had stayed out too long, which meant Angel would kill her. That is if she made it back to the villa. An hour before dusk, Cordy had stepped out to pick up groceries, and the stepping out was the only part of the little jaunt that went as planned. She got lost on the way to the market, and she got lost returning to the villa. That was two of the three mistakes. The third? Walking next to a cemetery on the way home. A cemetery on an island crawling with vampires. Mrs. Einstein here. Pick me. Pick me. So Cordy had to be a complete block head if she were surprised that a group of six vampires stepped into her path.

The one with a yellow shirt spoke up first. “What we have here is an appetizer for this evening.”

Cordy could hear various noises of agreement between the other five vampires. “Why don’t we keep your fangs to ourselves, guys. Looks like you can use a little dieting anyway.”

Nope, no advice taken. Ok Cordy, how are you getting out of this? Wasn’t like you bought a cross at the market. ‘Yes, I would like a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread and a wooden stake, please.’

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From the shadows, Spike took in the scene as he waited for Angel to get into position. So Angel’s sweet meat found herself a pack of wanna be big bads, did she? Well, let’s let them meet a couple of true big bads.

Spike came up in their front while Angel slipped around to their back undetected. Fools. Stepping up, Spike blew a steady stream of smoke into the face of the closest one, who was the one wearing a bright yellow shirt. He put himself between Cordy and the vampires.

After coughing, Yellow tried not to laugh. “Well if it isn’t the fake Spike of Crete. No easy prey like dogs and cats out here for the likes of you, maggot.”

“Beg to differ, mate. I’ve found exactly what I was looking for.” He blew his next stream into the face of a brunette standing a little farther back. “Now let me get this straight. If I’m the fake Spike,” he nodded his head, indicating behind the minions, “then that must make that bloke the fake Angelus. Big brow, broods, hair sticks up…”

The one closest to Angel made the mistake of speaking first. “You have got to be kid…” Angel snapped his neck before he could say anything else idiotic.

Spike waved his hand and pointed to one of the vampires in the front. “Here now, Grandpa, you made this pansy piss himself.”

Growling for show, Angel stepped up to the next boy, eyeing him closely. “I need more practice if only one wet his pants.”

Cordy was disgusted. “Major league eeewww!”

“My bad, mate, here’s another.” Spike pointed to Yellow’s pants before reaching up lightening fast and snapping his neck. He shrugged at Angel. “It was my turn.”

Figuring that it must be Angel’s turn now, the other vamps shuffled back away from the tall brunette. Bad planning. Spike killed another with a well aimed stake.

Angel was offended. “Hey, you skipped my turn.”

The one wearing black pointed a finger at Spike. “You must be the traitor hunting vampires.”

Blondie standing next to him disagreed. “No, he is supposed to work alone.”

“No, man, that’s him. See, he just killed Mikhael and Jaques and Julio.”

Angel looked at Spike in question. “What is this? The United Nations?”

Spike shrugged. “Any ol’recruit will do, I guess. I’ve been picking off the dippy buggers, not asking their bleedin’ home stomping ground.”

“Fun?”

“Blast.” Spike’s smile was truly wicked.

Both Spike and Angel moved in closer so that the remaining three were touching in a tight group.

“Ok, which one of you blokes wants to stay undead? Feel free to raise your hand.”

The one with the goatee was the first to speak. “What do I have to do?”

Angel glared. “Spill. I want to know everything, every detail of what your mistress is planning concerning her new prisoner.”

“Oh, no, oh, no, oh, no…”

When the fledgling pulled something from his pocket, Angel grabbed the “oh no” man by the neck, and that something floated out of his hand. Since Angel was still holding the minion, Spike picked up the piece of paper and found himself looking at a picture of…Angel.

“Oh, no” changed the number of words he could use. He looked at his remaining comrades. “Man, he really is Angelus. He looks just like the picture the elders gave us.”

“So if that is the real Angelus, and he called me Spike…that should make me…fill in the blank, kiddies.”

The third that had not spoken until this point in the impromptu meeting of the morons offered an answer. “You’re the…uh…real William the Bloody? But you’re dead.”

“Ding, ding, ding. Give the man a cigar. Course I’m dead, you daft wanker. I’m a vampire. Geez.”

“You’re the one that has been killing your own kind. You have a bounty on your head.”

“Give the man another cigar. And you know what else that means. I don’t let any victims go. So now it’s just a matter of how much we torture you before you get dusted.”

While he had been speaking, Angel had picked up the goatee vamp, held him upside down and shook him. Several more pictures floated to the ground. Giles, Xander, Willow, Dawn, Faith and a few other experienced slayers. After dropping his guest on his head, Angel picked up a few and flashed them to the remaining two vampires before handing them to Spike, who after inspecting them handed them to Cordy for safe keeping. “Care to share with the class? Your master, the new prisoner, and her plans?” Angel was done playing around.

Knowing for sure who they were dealing with now, the three song birds started singing all they knew. A quick death was all they could hope for. Their mistress had the Slayer of Sunnydale and that she was going to put her up for auction in three nights to gain money for her future grand plans. That took Angel and Spike by surprise. Never would they have thought of an auction. Maybe an outside chance some crooked ransom scheme Buffy would not be meant to survive, but they had been guessing that she was just being held until she was killed. But an auction? Spike and Angel had some planning to do. First off, they had to find someone with an invitation to the event and relieve him or her of it. Who would be the lucky demon be that night?

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Vassilious had just come from Argonia’s bed chamber. His mistress had actually invited him to her chamber, actually invited him to make love to her. Ha. What a farce. She stopped long enough from whipping a disobedient member of the clan and had laid on the bed’s edge. He positioned himself between her legs and entered her. She writhed and groaned. He was making her feel good from the looks of it, but it must not have been enough for her. Argonia had called a fledgling over and had the girl straddle her face. Vass couldn’t even see his beloved’s face as she came. He was allowed to come later when she let him remove the cock ring she had insisted upon, but that was little satisfaction for him. Making love to her? The love was from his side only. He had left when Argonia had begun slowly torturing and feeding from a mother and her young son.

After leaving, his only stop was to take a shower, and then he headed to the slayer’s cell to administer her next injection of sedative. The shower wasn’t cleaning up before seeing the slayer, but showering off the scene he had just participated in. Even though he didn’t want to acknowledge it, the gap between his tastes and Argonia was growing wider. He loved her…but…but?

As for the prison cell, at first he had intended to only give an injection or two and satisfy his curiosity about this slayer, but he had gone back and back. His curiosity hadn’t been satisfied. Now that wasn’t quite true. He had satisfied his curiosity regarding Angelus. Now he wanted to hear about William the Bloody, an incredible anomaly to be sure.

For the last couple of injections, Buffy had had guarded conversations with Vassilious since she couldn’t understand his fascinations with her career and with her relationship with Angel. She couldn’t decide if it was sick fascination or what. If she weren’t talking to a vampire, she would have thought that he was just curious. She may be the queen of stupidity sometimes, but she was giving him the benefit of the doubt and continued talking to him.

“So, keeper, I have had my food and my shot. What did you want to talk about this time?”

Before he said anything, with one flick of his wrist, large pillows littered the floor. A vampire that does magic, what a combination, she thought as she settled down on one of the cushions. She was surprised to say the least at his ability and that he had used his ability to add some comfort to her bare cell.

He answered her question without acknowledging his generous gesture, so Buffy followed his lead. “A topic?” Buffy watched as he stopped pacing and thought a moment more.

“I can understand Angelus changing sides since he was cursed with a soul. But Spike, I don’t pretend to understand. He wasn’t cursed with a soul at first but changed sides regardless.”

A ghost of a smile touched her lips at the thought of Spike. “Did you ever meet him?”

“No, I have just heard odd tales here and there. That’s why I am here tonight. I would like to know first hand about him.”

Buffy looked into the dark brown, almost black eyes of the vampire and surprisingly found no disgust as there had been when they had first started talking about Angel. Instead, she saw interest, plain and simple. “Spike…Spike is…” The slip of verb tense was painful. Spike was gone. She had to take a moment before starting again. “…Spike was Spike. He didn’t fit any niche.” Vassilious could see the pain in her eyes and tears threatening to fall before her gaze glazed over. “What was he like? He was always in motion, brimming with energy, enjoyed violence and didn’t hide the fact, even after he stopped killing humans, but he could also be soft and gentle when he chose. Some people thought he was out in left field, but he watched everything carefully, was an expert at reading people and situations, and would tell you the truth whether you wanted to hear it or not. Overall, he was a pest. A loveable pest but a pest. My pest.”

‘A loveable pest?’ Vassilious thought. ‘More like a gutless pest.’ He studied the slayer’s face. Her expression spoke for her sincerity. “I’ve been told that he fell in love with you before getting his soul. Vampires don’t do that with humans, especially not with slayers.”

“That’s the rule, huh?” Buffy gave a little chuckle and surprised Vassilious with a smile. “Like I said, Spike didn’t follow rules, any rules, not even guidelines. I doubt he even knew there were rules for vampire behavior, and if he did, he didn’t care. His ex-girlfriend…”

“Drusilla.”

“That’s her. Wack-o chick-o. She once told me that vampires could love. I laughed in hers and his face. No way. You guys are demons. Black hearts, dead inside…” Buffy held up her hand when he opened his mouth to interrupt. “…and you especially can’t love because you have no soul. But Spike wouldn’t give up trying to make me believe that he loved me. I would treat him bad, and he would help me when I asked. I would treat him worse, and he would still be there for me. I was too dense to see what was so obvious, but he kept showing me that I was wrong, always hoping that I would finally open my eyes to his feelings.” Buffy felt haunted by Spike’s ghost now. What a fool she had been not to see his love which had been so obvious in deep his gaze. “Then he went so far as win his soul back for me. But the funny part is that now I look back, I know that the soul had nothing to do with him loving me or him trying to improve himself. He, Spike the vampire, loved me, and he was the one making himself a better man. The soul just helped a transformation that had already begun.” She could see his face, the face so many times with blue eyes shining with love for her. What she would give to see that look again and do what she should have done those years ago and appreciate what she saw. Feeling Vassilious’ eyes on her, she tried to shake off the painful memories. “I know you, keeper, can love because every time you speak of Argonia, I can hear your love for that bitch in your voice.” Buffy expected a blow for calling Argonia a bitch, but none came. Instead, he just looked pensive. What’s up with this vamp? Talk about Drusilla being wack-o; this one was close behind.

No, Vassilious didn’t think to hit the slayer. Her words regarding her relationship with Spike was too familiar. His own love had never been accepted by Argonia, but he kept on trying. Too close to home. Surely his feelings for Argonia were not that similar with ones between a slayer and a vampire, were they? “So, little slayer, you must have slept with him before you believed in his love.”

Buffy’s mind traveled back in time to the abandoned house where she had first been intimate with Spike. She would never forget the worshipful look on his face when she had taken his member in her hand and lowered herself down onto him, melding their bodies. “The first time, I slept with him for all the wrong reasons. No, I didn’t believe he loved me. I didn’t love him. I used him, and he let me. Then much later, when I did return his feelings, I didn’t make love with him, not even so much as a kiss, but should have. I lost the chance, and I will always regret never being able to have that chance again.” Her last comment was more to herself than to the vampire sitting with her. Talking about Spike was both pleasure and pain. She had made so many mistakes when it had come to that blonde vampire. The two foremost mistakes were not believing in his love and not letting herself love him.

Slightly confused, he shook his head. “You don’t sound like a slayer as you talk about a demon, soul or no soul.” Vassilious watched a single tear course down her face.

Buffy gave a short laugh. “No, I don’t. See, I’m as original just as much as Spike was. We had that in common, and over time he taught me…” Buffy paused, and Vassilious waited for her to begin again. “He taught me about demons, that they were not all the same. Some good and some evil. Spike taught me that an evil demon can rise above his killer’s nature and that not everything is black and white. Grey is out there, everywhere. Even you are in the grey, keeper. Here you are talking to potential food, not sucking my blood, not torturing. Just having a civil conversation. See. Grey.”

Uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was now heading, Vassilious shifted in his seat. Himself in the grey? He tucked the thought away for later contemplation, and changed the focus back to Spike. “I know that we have already mentioned this, but he fought for a soul for you?”

“Yes, but he was already on the right path through the grey by his own choosing, irregardless of his soul. He stumbled at times but stayed to the path. The soul just helped.” Tilting her head, Buffy studied him. In this vampire, she could see a hint of a man, a man that listens and considers the other side of an argument. “You could learn much from his example.”

“And then we are back to the path of redemption, taking the evil out of the demon.”

“Yes and no. It’s redemption by overcoming the base instincts of the demon inside of you, choosing your own path.” Buffy deliberately made her sentence personal instead of a general statement to see what he would do.

Vassilious paused, thinking before hesitantly shaking his head. “Can’t happen to m…Doesn’t happen.”

His words had a hint of hollowness in his conviction. Yes, this vampire was open minded even to an evil slayer. Buffy smiled. “Try it and see.”

Vass recognized the dare for what it was. “Why?”

“See if I am lying. Go a week without feeding on a human. You can buy blood at a butcher’s. See if you can be more than a killing machine.”

Vassilious ignored her suggestion. “When we talked a previous time, you told me that there was a great difference between soulless Angelus and souled Angel.”

She hid her smile when he abruptly changed the subject. “Night and Day.”

“But Spike?”

“After getting his soul, he was different, but when he adjusted to his soul and received a swift kick in the ass from me, he was the same old Spike. I told you that he didn’t live by rules. Before gaining his soul, he lived beyond his demon, chose what he would become. After you were turned, did you choose what you wanted to be or did you let it be chosen for you? Did one bite on your neck take your choices away?” Buffy watched as Vassilious abruptly stood and turned to leave the room. “Vassilious.” She let out her breath when he actually stopped, but she did note that he didn’t turn back to face her. “Vass, try it just once. Just once help someone with your powers instead of hurting them. See how it feels.” She knew she had been pushing, but for some reason, she felt like he needed the push in a new direction. But she knew better than to push him too far. A new jailer could be way worse than Vassilious had been so far, and she didn’t want to find out how bad another would be.

Vassilious never answered. He told himself that he left because he could tell that she was getting sleepy. He told himself that she wasn’t worthy of any more of his time. What whispered in his inner ear the question, if anything she said could be true? Was he on the path he chose or had he ever made some kind of choice of his own? Spike had made a choice. Good, bad, black, white, grey, he could make a choice, too.

He also didn’t miss the fact that Spike’s one sided love for Buffy was similar to his unrequited love for Argonia. Where Spike eventually won Buffy’s love, Vassilious was beginning to doubt that he would ever win Argonia’s, especially since he had been trying for over a decade with no luck. Blinders off, he wasn’t even sure she could love anyone like he desired.

He thought of the slayer’s challenge last of all. And thought. He wouldn’t tell her, but he had already helped instead of hurt a young girl. She had been brunette, pale blue eyes, and lips that perpetually in a pout. In short, she had reminded him of his sister back when he had been human. Three months ago while he had been in Athens, he had come upon the girl cowering behind an iron gate, with her back to the wall, trying desperately to get away from a werewolf. Vassilious changed, fought and took the werewolf out. When he turned to the girl, she saw him fangs and yellow eyes and finally fainted in fear. Without thinking about what he was doing, he picked her up and headed to a more populated area. Once when he looked down, her head had lolled back and to the side, and he could see the beautiful, pale skin of her neck by the light of the full moon above. He knew he should want to bite her, but he just didn’t. He left her on the steps of a large hotel, assuming a doorman or somebody would find her. On his way back to his hotel, he had pushed aside the feeling of satisfaction about what he had done. He pushed those thoughts back to a cubby hole deep in his mind and locked them away. But now the memory had snuck out and added its voice to the slayer’s.

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TBC

Angel joined Cordy in the room they were using for their bedroom in the villa. When he opened the door and stepped in, Cordy could hear Spike cussing, which she imagined would only rivaled by a seasoned sailor, a very seasoned sailor. After shutting the door, Angel wrapped his arms around his lover.

After a quick kiss, Cordy asked, “What’s up with Mr. Potty Mouth?”

“We tracked down an Eracki demon and *obtained* his invitation to the viewing and the auction. Spike’s been cussing like that since he read Buffy’s name on the card along seeing the words, “to be auctioned,” set him off. I can’t say that I blame him. I guess it’s a good thing he was cussing enough for both of us.”

Cordy laid her head against his chest, over his un-beating heart that she knew would beat for her if it could. “This invite helps, right?”

“Right.” Angel kissed the top of Cordelia’s head. “The invitation is the first step.” Placing two fingers below Cordy’s chin, Angel lifted her face up to receive a kiss. “Next is the viewing of the items to be auctioned.” Angel leaned back down but paused before their lips met, he paused. Angel pulled the door open and yelled out, “Spike, enough already.”

“Shut your arse, peaches. I’m gonna rip off their fucking heads off, pull out their spines and beat them with them. I’m gonna…”

When Spike’s temper finally lagged, Angel and Cordy joined him in the courtyard.

Cordy walked over to Spike and pried the invitation from his hand. “November 15? That’s only two days away. In a hurry, aren’t these baddies?”

“They’re hoping to get this done before anyone can try to rescue her.” Angel sat down at a small table. “Like us to be exact.”

Spike ran his hand through his already messed up hair. “Well, the blighters are out of luck.”

Sitting down with Angel, Cordy held up the invitation. “Right. We know; we rescue.”

Angel grabbed the blonde vampire by the arm as his passed close by. “Now, Spike, SIT DOWN so we can plan.”

Spike threw himself into one of the two empty chairs. “From the mug shots we scared up, we know that they are expecting you, peaches. Of the unexpected, that leaves me, and your better half here.”

“Angel can go pick up the gang.” Cordy patted Angel’s hand.

Angel shook his head. “I don’t think so. The clan is watching for them as much as me. I don’t even think we should tell them.”

“I don’t know.” Spike sat forward and leaned his elbows on the table. “The Scoobies undoubtedly know that Buffy is here in Crete, and if they think something is wrong, they will be on the next plane.”

Spike right. Angel wondered if he would ever get use to this new, improved version of the blonde vampire. “You’re right. No stopping them. I’ll leave as soon as possible and go pick them up.”

So Angel’s goal was to get the Scoobies out of Cleveland and onto Crete without being noticed. Faith would be left behind since the hell mouth still needed to be guarded.

At the last minute, Angel was hesitant to leave. After a hug and a deep kiss, Angel pulled back but kept his arms securely around Cordy. “Stay safe.”

“That’s me. Safety girl.”

The brunette vampire smiled and shook his head, not believing a word she said. “Don’t try to do anything on your own. There will be some dangerous demons at the viewing.” Angel tilted his head towards his grandchilde. “I know he is annoying but follow Spike’s lead.”

“Down the yellow brick road to see the wicked witch.” Watching the pair, Spike barely got the wisecrack out since he was still having a hard time adjusting to a warm and affectionate Angel. Definite wiggins as Buffy would say.

Spike spent the one night they had before the viewing scoping out the huge villa the clan used as a headquarters. When he made it back just before dawn, he knew where every guard was located and their habits. Cordy had happily spent the two days they had before the viewing shopping for hers and Spike’s outfit for the viewing. Spike had to have a complete makeover. Yes, Angel was expected to try to get in to the affair, but not Spike. But if he went in looking like Spike or even worse, someone that could have known him recognized him, the jig would be up.

Two days and one night of preparations later, Spike and Cordy borrowed their host’s car and were headed to the auction’s viewing. The invitation touted that the event would be special in that along with all the other items, the Sunnydale Slayer would be on the auction block.

When they arrived at the small villa up in the hills, Spike and Cordelia waited in a small line to present their invitation and enter the mansion. Cordelia was feeling cocky. She always felt cocky when she was dressed to kill. Expensive shoes, expensive dress, and expensive jewelry. So expensive that she knew Angel would have a heart attack if his heart did beat.

In line, Cordy kept herself busy making minute adjustments to Spike’s look, pretending to be his some type of sex kitten, fussing over her master. They had even talked Angel into biting her so that she had puncture wounds on her neck to cinch the charade. “Would you hold still? This suit looks fabulous. Try to match it.” She brushed off any stray lint on his finely tailored, navy blue suite. She adjusted his lighter blue tie. And lastly, she twirled around her finger the curl falling over his forehead, getting it just right, earning her a heartfelt growl. Cordy wished she could fix Spike as easily as she fixed his hair, fix the sadness in his eyes. Earlier in the day, they had dyed his hair a dark brown and fitted him with a pair of brown contacts. Spike had moaned when Cordy said they had to cover up his “pretty blue eyes.” All this only for Buffy, he reminded himself. With an eyebrow pencil, they did their best to cover up his scar. All done, Spike was gone, and Franco Perez from Peru was born.

While waiting in the line, Spike’s thoughts were alternating between two subjects. First was the obvious. Seeing Buffy at the viewing. Second was that afternoon, he had had a talk with Cordelia. Actually, Cordelia initiated it over their late lunch they ate before getting ready for the viewing.

Cordelia laid down her fork and took her glass of water out onto the balcony. After taking a sip, she asked, “Spike, you’ve been back all this time thinking that Buffy and Angel were together, an item, right?”

“Still can’t believe they aren’t. Don’t get me wrong, pet. I am happy for you. But…”

“Ok, then let’s talk until we get all this straightened out.” Cordy wanted to laugh watching how fast Spike joined her on the shaded balcony. “First off, yes, Buffy did come to Angel in LA, and yes, they tried to make a go, but things weren’t that simple for them anymore…” Cordy told him about the years Angel had spent in LA, years that he had spent away from Buffy. She told of her feelings for Angel, his feelings for her, and all the events leading up to her coma. “So anyway, as stupid fate would have it, I woke up the second week that Angel and Buffy got back together. Watching them, I really think they tried to make it work because they felt honor bound. There had been so many years of wanting and wishing. After a while, I think both were shocked when they figured out that there was nothing left of the passion. As it ended up, things just didn’t work out. Angel still loves Buffy and she him, but now, they love each other as close friends. So after two weeks they called it quits. Buffy went back to Cleveland, and Angel is with me now. I promise you, have no fear he will want Buffy back. I’m keeping him.”

“But Buffy since then...?”

In answer, Cordy punched him in the shoulder. “She’s been miserable, and it’s entirely your fault, mister. You should have told her you were back and saved her some of that heartache.” He started to open his mouth, but she cut him off. “And don’t even think about disappearing again after this rescue gig is over, before she can talk to you. I will just have Angel hunt you down, drag you back and dump you at her feet, buster. Then she can tell you how she feels herself.”

Oh, how he wanted to believe Cordy. He really did, but it was so hard to imagine the slayer pining away for him. She had broken it off with his Grandsire, she didn’t have anyone in her life at the present, and Cordy said that Buffy wanted him. Wow. In a way, he didn’t want to believe. Why not? It revolved around hope and want. He wanted to hope that she wanted him, but he also hoped to protect his heart from anymore heartbreak from Buffy’s possible rejection. Overall, he didn’t know how to think or feel about the subject, so he didn’t. He tucked it away until Buffy was safe.

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It had been a strange day. Several hours ago, Vassilious had given her a large dose of her sedative and led her through a portal. In the new building, she was taken to another room. In the new location, dinner time had past and no Vassilious. Good. The drugs had worn off enough to boost her courage. “Come on. Come on. A break. I just need a break. Little, big, whatever. Just a break.” She knew that someone must have been listening above when one of her two guards stepped in with her food.

He moved in close to set down her tray in front of her. As he fumbled for her sedative in his pocket, she brought her legs up and scissored them around his head, pulled him down to pin him. She grabbed his keys before snapping his neck so when he went to dust, he didn’t take the keys with him.

Now she had to move fast. She needed to surprise the other guard in the hall instead of the guard surprising her.

Her luck held. Staying as quiet as possible, Buffy made it out of her chains and crept up to the door. Dizzy from the drugs, She had to take a second to let her head clear again. The drugs still in her system were playing havoc with her. As fast as possible, she jerked the guard into her cell, and placing her hand behind his head, she slammed his face down on her up raised knee. Then she snapped his neck and brushed dust off her pants. Time to look out into the hall. To her right, down an extremely long hall stood three vampires talking. To the right was clear. Deciding on a bold approach, Buffy stepped out into the hall, turned right and started walking, hoping that they would assume that she was just another vampire. The only hitch was when she had to reach out and steady herself against the wall, but the vampires continued to ignore her.

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Spike and Cordy made it to the front of the line where a vampire was flanked by three more. “Good evening. May I see your invitation?”

As ponce inspected the invitation, Spike watched the three guards that were inspecting Cordelia and himself. They no doubt were looking for Angel or the Scoobies. The pictures that he and Angel had taken off the vampires in the cemetery told Spike that much. But all these goons saw was a well dress vampire and his female paramour. No problem though. Not only did the invitation pass, but so did Spike and Cordelia. They were waved into the house. “If you would please follow Adrian.”

They were led into a room off the end of the main hall, and their guide motioned for them to step inside. “You will be transported to the auction facilities in here.”

Instead of a doorway, they came face to face with a circular portal. Spike felt Cordy’s grip on his arm tighten, and he wondered if she had noticed his own muscles tense. A portal of this sort meant that they were being transported to another location, and in all likelihood, it would be a location they could not recognize. That’s the idea. Such a transportation hid the location, greatly improving the security. Whoever was holding Buffy wanted to keep her until she was purchased. Angel wouldn’t like this turn of events anymore than he did since it made their rescue plan all the more harder to make.

Trying to reassure without making them look suspicious, Spike looked down into Cordy’s eyes and gave her a small smile. “Are you ready pet? This proves to be an extraordinary night.” And they stepped through.

They ended up in a small domed room that held the portal on the other side. They were led down a short hall and entered a large hall, which was mostly likely used for enormous banquets or balls. All sorts of demons were milling about with one or two humans sprinkled in. In front of the hall a banner announced the Slayer Auction of 2005 offered by the Lustere Auctioneer Company. Along three sides of the hall were glass cases with various artifacts concerning slayers of some sort or another. The forth side contained and impressing display of refreshments of all varieties. Filet mignon to kittens. One hundred year old wine to puréed hamster eye balls.

“We have to blend, and what better way to look all blendy is with a glass of something in your hand.” Cordelia picked up a goblet of blood for Spike and a flute of champagne for herself. Finding the blood to be human, Spike put the goblet down and switched to a flute of champagne also. Then they began to wander around the hall. Cordelia made a show of inspecting the contents of the cases while Spike studied the surroundings and security.

At each station, there were several artifacts in the cases, and at each station was one was an attendant to help describe the particular objects displayed. The objects were labeled in Greek. Since Spike could read Greek but Cordy couldn’t, she relied on the attendants and Spike for translations. The head of the slayer from Australia in 1810, a finger from 1930 Mexican slayer, an axe from a slayer that made her own weapons, Gordian’s club that he knocked out a slayer before biting her, a watchers journal when Eclusus killed both watcher and slayer, the dagger used to kill a slayer in 1851 down in Buenos Ares along with her stained shirt.

Cordelia inspected the contents of the cases with morbid fascination. Spike, however, was distracted, but Cordy knew why. His job was to look over the facility and the security, so he would only glance at the cases. For the most part, he ignored the displays, all but one, the dais at the front of the hall with one chair perched on top. A perfect place to display a slayer. Spike wanted to tear it down and crush each and every piece of wood. Every time he took a step that way, Cordy would pull him back.

The last case in the far wall caught Cordelia’s attention. “Sp…Franco, look.”

Spike glanced down to see what was wrong. He had been counting security guards when she interrupted him. There were at least a dozen on each wall making the total close to fifty, and that didn’t count the guards Buffy would undoubtedly have guarding her. A high number of guards but that went with what he estimated to be 300 to 400 guests.

“Franco, I think you would be interested in this cabinet. I can’t read Greek so would you do it for me?”

Rolling his eyes, he read the plaque she was pointing to. “William the Bloody’s (1880-2003) leather duster…”

The attendant stepped up before Spike could finish reading. “I see this duster has caught your eye. Are you familiar with William the Bloody’s history?”

Cordy wanted to laugh. ‘You are talking to him, mister.’ But she held back and let Spike answer. That would be just as funny.

She could see the muscles in Spike’s jaw working before he answered. “Yes, we’ve heard of him.”

“Well, this is his coat that in New York he took off the second slayer he killed in his career. Very impressive indeed. No other vampire in recent in history has killed two slayers. If you are interested in more Spike memorabilia, you need to look over in case number five across the hall. It contains the sword he used to kill his first slayer.”

“Thanks, we’ll do that.” When they were clear, Spike started to vent. “My coat? They are pawning off that cheap copy of my coat. The stitching at the shoulder is all wrong. And the sword I used on the slayer in china? I didn’t use a sword. She did. I killed her by b…*he* didn’t use a sword. Just because he is gone doesn’t mean that…”

Cordelia gave him a sharp kick in the shins. “That coat…that coat you, I mean he…he wore all those years, even when *he* was helping Buffy, was from a slayer he killed. Some type of trophy? You and he are sick.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, pet. Probably something of Angelus’ here. I might buy it for you.”

“Don’t you dare.” Her threat was ruined by a smile.

“Oh, luv, I always dare,” Spike purred into her ear.

As they passed people, Spike would acknowledge them with a nod, and Cordelia gave a small smile.

Cordelia bit her lip with worry. “Do you know any of these…er…people?”

Spike tilted his head to the side in thought. “Actually, several but only in passing. The last woman we passed in the garish red dress is Lucinda, a Cajun from Louisiana. I met her when the stars whispered to Dru that Lucinda throws a great party. The Milky Way was right that time. Quite a bash.”

“But she looked right at you.” Cordelia looked around for anyone looking their way, but found none.

“Eye to eye.” Spike gave her a cheeky wink.

“And no recognition. Ha. I’ll send you my bill.” She returned his gesture with a sassy one of her own.

Smiling, Spike picked up Cordelia’s hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, patting it. “How about jewelry?”

“Done.” Cordelia was already trying to decide between a ring, pendant or a bracelet.

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