Riley was surprisingly calm for a man who had not only been dumped, but also knocked to the ground by his bride-to-be that very evening. He set his pile of books and study guides on his desk, taking care to arrange them neatly before changing his clothes. He knew exactly what to wear; he still had all of his gear. You never knew when you might need it. He suited up for night ops, tucking his face mask into his back pocket for later. He wouldn’t need a weapon for this maneuver – but the infra-red goggles, logbook and voice-activated recorder were a necessity. He tucked a few stakes and a hunting knife into his uniform for safety’s sake. It always paid to be cautious in Sunnydale.

Within ten minutes he was back outside, hunting his quarry.

Fortunately he knew exactly where to find her.

She was his fiancée after all.

Riley crept up the hall towards Buffy and Willow’s room, falling back behind the corner when he saw the door open. He pushed himself silently along the wall and further into the darkness when he heard her enter the corridor. He knew it was Buffy; he’d memorized every little thing about her – right down to the sound of her footsteps.

She seemed in a hurry and preoccupied which worked in his favor. He was fully aware of her capabilities as a Slayer; he would have to be on his guard during this operation. He made a notation on his recorder after she had gone out of sight.

“2100 Hours - Target has left home base, carrying large duffle. Have not established destination.”

He waited for a few seconds before resuming his tail, following her several paces behind. He made note of the large duffle slung over her shoulder and felt a surge of gratitude. It meant she needed the comfort of her own home - that she was hurting too and that gave him a window of opportunity. One he could pry open all the way into a swift reconciliation. It was ridiculous for them to spend any time apart really - they were Soul Mates. Why should they suffer through unnecessary separation?

Under the cover of his facemask he smiled.

Soon, Buffy. Soon.

Riley stalked his prey across the quad and out into the night. He wasn’t surprised when she detoured through a cemetery, she probably had some issues to work off and wanted to patrol. He’d cure her of that habit soon enough. That wasn’t the way one’s wife should behave. But she’d be too busy with the children and the house to think about that before long. He smiled dreaming of the life they’d have. It was all going to be perfect.

He was so caught up in his daydreaming that he almost missed her ducking inside a crypt. Now that was curious, was she changing clothes? Was there a demon inside he couldn’t sense from here? He held back for a few minutes, expecting her to reemerge at any moment.

After five full minutes he decided to risk a peek. What if she were hurt? What if she needed him? The mental image of her pinned underneath a hungry vampire spurred him on. Cautiously he crept toward the mausoleum. Risking a look through one of the windows he was surprised to find a fully furnished living room. There were flowers, candles, some furniture – but no Buffy.

He studied the room corner to corner before deciding to risk entry into the building. There was no one in it, demon or human. Riley began to worry. There was dreadful evil in this town; he’d seen unbelievable things here. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was happening in there – something awful.

He crept through the door to the crypt in full stealth mode, mask down, stake at the ready and listening carefully for any sound that might hint at what was happening. At last he heard voices – Buffy was talking to someone… He let out a quiet sigh of relief - at least she didn’t sound hurt. Wait - was that a man’s voice? Something about it was familiar. Searching the room thoroughly he finally found the hole in the cement floor that served as an entrance to the lower level. He could see flickering light & the ladder leading down but not much else from here.

Riley pondered his options for a few minutes. Should he follow her? She sounded okay, she wasn’t in any danger that he could perceive. It wasn’t right to go eavesdropping… But wasn’t this whole mission about gathering information on Buffy? Finding out everything he could? Maybe this conversation would give him some insight into their problems… He made an executive decision. Securing his stake and various bits of paraphernalia he slowly lowered himself flat to the floor and poked his head into the hole. He was surprised to be peering down on a rather elegant looking bedroom. A large, ornately carved dresser stood against one wall; there were Persian-style carpets on the floor – and several candles and bouquets of flowers added to the romantic atmosphere. Ignoring his own curiosity, he focused on the mission at hand.

Riley Finn was in no way prepared for the sight that greeted him. In the middle of the large, king-sized bed was his fiancée - writhing on satin sheets… with Spike. He balked at the scene before him, mind unable to process this new insanity. Spike hovered above a half-naked Buffy, who opened her arms to him invitingly.

Riley felt the color drain from his face when he heard them speak again;

“My girl.” Spike growled possessively. “Mine.”

There was no mistaking the look of happiness on her face, or the love in her voice when she replied, quite simply;

“Yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faith was holed up in a dingy motel on the outskirts of town. It was all she could think to do in her current state of panic. She’d told her sister it was for her own good, Glory was on the loose and out looking for them. She’d bought it and kept quiet for several hours, but now Dawn was starting to ask questions.

It was getting on her already frazzled nerves. For a split second she regretted taking her – maybe she’d be better off alone… But the thought passed in an instant. She loved Dawn so much, like nobody else. She was her only family. And it didn’t matter one damn bit where she came from – they were blood, and they were sisters. And no one was taking her away.

She thought grimly. They’d find out quick just how nasty she could be. She’d shove a stake in the first person that tried to lay hands on Dawn. And she knew just how to make it hurt.

A broken kneecap, a shattered hand – ten pounds of pressure applied just so and they were outta the game. That suited her fine. She’d been making nice for far too long now. Played the good girl – and where did that get her?

She shoulda known. They all turned on her the instant Buffy came back into play. Giles keeping secrets, the gang plotting to take Dawn and give her to Buffy. And she’d lost Spike.

That nasty, manipulating little bitch got her hands on him – who knows when. For all she knew Buffy’d been after him from the start. They coulda been together for months now. The thought turned her stomach. Did he lie to her from the first night? No he couldn’t have, not Spike… He wasn’t like that. She’d looked into his eyes too many times…

But ugly doubt crept in. She knew what Buffy was - what she was capable of. God, she was so sick of that bitch. Always playing it up nice, actin’ all perfect. Faith grabbed a smoke from the pack of Luckys in her jacket pocket & lit up with an unsteady hand. She’d had enough of her little superhero routine. Who did she think she was anyway? Wonder Woman? Didn’t Buffy feel the darkness inside her too? The black place where the power came from beat inside Faith like a drum, it called to her. It told her she was different – special. Something beyond superheroes. The normal rules didn’t apply here – when was Buffy gonna get that?

The worst thing was how hypocritical she was. She acted like a fuckin’ angel but there she was stealing Spike away. Cheating on her fucking fiancé and lying to her friends to do it. It made Faith sick to think that Spike could buy that fake ass act of hers. That he would even want that.

Was she so tainted, so fucked up that Buffy seemed better by comparison? Her guts twisted inside her and she swiped angrily at the tear escaping from the corner of her eye. Buffy had gotten to him, had turned him against her before she had a chance to show him how it good it could be. Buffy took him away, just like she was trying to take Dawn...

No matter what it took - if she had to kill some folks, so be it. And if she had to kill Buffy - well, that was just a bonus.

Family was worth fighting for.

Chapter Thirty Eight ~ Hopelessly Devoted to You

Riley felt unsteady, nauseous…the roller coaster ride of the past few hours had spun his world off its axis and dropped him neatly on his head. Overwhelmed by the revolting scenarios flooding his brain, he couldn’t seem to right himself or find his footing. The images flashed like scenes from some sickening movie he was too weak to get up from;

Spike and Buffy, writhing together like snakes on slick satin sheets. His mouth on her mouth, on her neck, her sweet flesh - places his own mouth had only recently been. Riley ground his fists into his eyes viciously, trying to erase these mad visions. But they played on like some crazy film strip looped over and over again.

“My girl. Mine.”

That thing had claimed her as its own….

And she had accepted it. His Buffy…his girl…. accepted the claim of a monster.

“Yours.”

She had said it so softly, a lover’s sigh. It made him feel sick, remembering.

The horrifying scene had sent him scrambling from the crypt, his mind unable to process what it meant. He still couldn’t fully grasp it.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be real…

But it was.

It happened; he had seen the whole stomach-churning show live and in person.

Riley had never felt so lost in his whole life. Without her he was rudderless. She was his rock, his everything. The tears started up again and he swiped at them, ashamed. He was walking now, wandering without purpose – roving through the woods trying vainly to clear his head.

It couldn’t be over. He couldn’t have lost her…not to him. Not to a goddamned demon, a thing that had no soul. It didn’t make any sense! He pictured Spike’s hands on her silky skin, his mouth at Buffy’s throat – too easy to imagine him sliding his fangs in, while Buffy moaned in enjoyment. The Initiative had taught him all about temptations in the field. Vampires were seductive beasts, their fangs dealt pleasure as well as pain. He’d heard of women having multiple orgasms from a single bite. He gave a low growl of fury at the thought.

He had never hated another being before, not really, not truly. He wasn’t raised that way. But all he could think about now was hurting Spike, making him pay. His desire for vengeance consumed him with a slow fire.

God help the demon who crossed his path tonight.

He had rage to burn.

Buffy’s mind was racing – head full of scenarios too grim to speak of. She remembered Wesley’s battered face, and his account of the torment he’d suffered – all at the hands of the woman currently holding her baby sister.

Fury and terror battled it out in her system until she felt dizzy. Spike was the only thing keeping her going right now. He’d taken over and organized her scattered self into action. He made her change her clothes before rushing out the door, quite logically pointing out her disheveled state, which clearly indicated she’d been patrolling - among other things. He was also quick enough to give her a cover story explaining why he was accompanying her to the Magic Box.

“Remember, Pet - you met me on the way there. I was out on patrol. Got it?”

She nodded solemnly, trying to remember not to lean on him too much, or go to him in tears in front of the others. There was a good reason why they were keeping their relationship a secret – she just couldn’t remember what it was at the moment…

Spike stopped them just outside the door to the shop.

“Are you all right, Love?” He studied her face intently, she’d been unnaturally quiet since the phone call and it was worrying him.

Buffy clung tightly to his upper arms, digging her fingers into the soft leather of his coat. She had no way to express the sick fear inside her. That Faith could…that she might…

The images in her head… the blood. The things Wesley had told them. He had dutifully relayed every word and deed to Giles, his internal Watcher’s imperative to record far too ingrained to be forgotten now. That particular quote had haunted her. Faith was an unknown quantity, no telling what she might actually do. But Buffy knew just exactly what she was capable of.

Spike saw the emotions play across her face and pulled her swiftly into his arms. Cradling her head against his chest he stroked her hair, whispering to her.

“ It’s alright, Love – Spike’s got you now. I won’t let ‘er hurt the Nibblet. Not ever.”

Buffy wept into his shirt. He’d said it out loud, he’d spoken her fears. It broke through the mass of confusion and disjointed terror she was feeling and she finally let herself cry. Tears streamed down her face as she clung to him.

“ She could kill her, Spike! You don’t know her like I do…you don’t know what she’s already done…”

He stroked her back gently, soothing her.

“ Remember, Pet - she isn’t your Faith.” He said logically. “You’ve said it yourself – things are different here. And the Faith I know would never hurt Dawn.”

She grimaced, not wanting to be reminded of his… whatever-it-was with the other Slayer. But she allowed herself to be comforted by the thought.

It was all she had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Faith stared listlessly out the window, forgotten cigarette burning in her hand. She felt as cold and dead as a frozen stone. Dawn was the only thing keeping her going right now. Her sister remained annoyingly cheerful despite their circumstances. Dawn was currently engrossed in a particularly catty episode of Dismissed, happily munching Cheetos and guzzling coke, oblivious to the world and all its terrors.

Even this rat hole had Mtv. Faith had distracted her from her earlier questioning by switching on the tube. God, it was simple to be 15. She missed that. Even being a Slayer had been easier back then. She’d seen the world in such uncomplicated terms.

Fuck. If only it could be that easy with Spike.

In the beginning it was - not like it was hard to want what he had to offer. What’s not to like? His skin tight jeans, the chiseled jaw, those heart-stopping blue eyes - Spike was the total package. And unlike Miss Tightass Buffy, she didn’t give a damn that he was a vamp. It made a weird kinda sense actually. She felt instinctively there was a kindred spirit there. They shared a common darkness.

Plus – superhero sex? Fuckin’ hot. Best ever actually. They’d trashed more than a few motel rooms together. Of course they had to tone it down when they were at home…

That word seemed so removed from her right now. It had no meaning without friends, without family…or love. Their little ramshackle apartment had felt like a home once. She remembered Dawn laughing at the sink splashing Spike with soapy water as they did the dishes. A small tear trickled from the corner of her eye. She blotted it away with the sleeve of her denim jacket. She didn’t want Dawn to see her cry. There would be time for tears later. Alone in the shower tonight she would weep - for all she had lost and all she would never, ever have…

Because Buffy took it all away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She clung to Spike for a few more precious moments, knowing they would have to distance themselves once inside. He hugged her fiercely before letting her go, reassuring her wordlessly of his presence and support. She wiped her eyes & straightened her clothes, shifting gears into stoic Slayer-mode once again. Buffy never realized how much time she spent that way – not until she allowed herself to love him. She was thankful she didn’t have to carry it all alone anymore, there was someone to stand by her side. It struck her in that moment just how much she trusted him.

She looked up and really saw Spike - the man that loved her with all his heart, the partner who had her back in all things and the warrior who would defend her past death into dust. She reached for his hand and squeezed it, feeling deeply grateful for his presence.

“I’m never letting you go.” She said quietly.

He shot her a cocky grin - signature Spike. It made her smile for the first time in almost an hour.

“Count on it, Love. Yer stuck with me.”

She kissed him once, softly and then allowed him to lead her inside, holding onto his hand until the last possible second.

Giles stood at the counter talking with Willow & Xander, faces grim.

He turned their way at the sound of the small brass door bell, “I’m glad you’re here, Buffy…” He smiled distractedly. “I see you’ve found Spike, good.”

That was a surprise. They’d expected more questions about his sudden appearance.

“Perhaps the two of you can explain the content of this letter.” He continued, frowning.

Buffy and Spike exchanged a confused look.

“What letter?”

“The one Faith left for me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The more Faith thought about it the more she realized it was true;

It all came down to Buffy.

All her troubles, all her pain rested on the shoulders of the world’s tiniest Slayer. Faith always found that irritating – perfect little Barbie-girl, so petite. So pretty and blonde, with her teeny little manicured hands and those eensy little outfits. Gag.

Why would Spike want that anyway? When a full-grown woman was standing right here. She eyed her curves appreciatively in the bathroom mirror. Tight abs, nice tits, great ass - how could he just walk away from this? She leaned heavily on the chipped Formica counter.

It had to be her. Buffy did something to him. Turned his head, manipulated him. Put on her Little Miss Perfect act and made him think he wanted that.

That thought sent a bolt of red rage through her. Buffy took him, she stole his love away. And why? For a few laughs? For a fuck? Or was it just to hurt her, to show her that she could and would take anything that Faith ever wanted? Wasn’t it enough that Buffy already had everything; a wonderful mother that loved her, a real home of her own, a devoted fiancé and friends? All Faith had was Dawn and Spike really. They were her only family, the only things in this world she really loved.

Then Buffy took Spike, and now she wanted Dawn too…

“Fuck that.” She growled at her reflection.

That bitch had to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Giles handed Buffy a plain white envelope with his name scrawled across it in jagged ballpoint pen.

“She left you this? What is it, a ransom note?” She asked bitterly.

“Not precisely, no. She explains why she took Dawn.” He sat down wearily on the edge of the table. “And what she’ll do if we attempt to get her back.”

“That’s how we knew it was Faith.” Xander said quietly.

Willow stepped forward.

“What does it mean, Buffy? Do you know? A lot of it didn’t make any sense to us.”

Xander & Willow looked at her expectantly, as if she would have all the answers – just like they always did. She shouldered the burden with a small sigh, and sat down to read.

Inside the envelope was a sheet of cheap, lined notebook paper folded into a crumpled square. In Faith’s erratic hand she read betrayal, fear and hate – it dripped off the page like venom and it was all directed towards her.

Buffy looked up at Spike, her mouth a grim, angry line. She handed him the letter and watched his face turn a still paler shade. Somehow, Faith knew about their relationship and she was making them pay for it.

Guess it was time to come out of the closet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley stalked through the darkness, fury percolating in his guts until he felt like the very blood would boil inside his veins. The images filled his head, overwhelmed him until he seemed to be breathing them in with the air around him. Spike kissing Buffy, his flesh a vile blanket that covered her. His hands in her hair, the look of tenderness on her face when she said his name…

The things he’d seen turned so effortlessly then into what he could imagine. How they would fuck and scream together. How the monster would make her come. How she would do anything and everything he wanted, things she’d never even dream of with Riley…Tears of rage burned his eyes until they overflowed and spilled down his face.

He wanted to uproot a tree and shove it through Spike’s chest. He wanted to rip the head from his body and watch him dust in his hands.

She was his girl. His. His future wife! And she had been taken over and held in thrall by a beast too loathsome to even speak her name. He stopped in his tracks, seizing upon this new idea. It was a lifeboat in a hurricane.

It had to be thrall.

What else could explain this insanity? Why else would she leave him and go running into the arms of a demon? It was the only thing that made sense.

“Spike.” He spat the name out like poison.

There was a problem he should’ve taken care of a long time ago. If only he’d known the damage to be done, he would’ve taken extreme pleasure in staking him a year ago. But it wasn’t too late. There was time yet. Riley Finn was a planner, a patient man. He would solve the Spike problem, and enjoy doing it. And once he was gone, the thrall would be over and Riley could get to the task of deprogramming Buffy. He could fix this, he knew he could. He could make it right again. And then they could go back to the way things were.

They were going to be happy.