Master of Puppets

"Hand me that red one, Will," Buffy said as she pulled her shirt over her head.
 

"This one?" Willow asked, taking a dress out of the closet. She turned to face Buffy and almost dropped it. "Buffy, what happened?"
 

"These?" Buffy said, gesturing to the as yet unhealed, deep scratches and bites that littered her torso and radiated from under her bra. "Spike's been a little...enthusiastic, lately."
 

"Enthusiastic?" Willow said, unbelievingly. "More like savage. Or violent. Or abusive. Or-"
 

"Will, it's not like that," she interrupted. "I give as good as I get."
 

"Yeah, but you've never looked this bad before," Willow told her as she walked around her best friend to see long nail gouges in her back. "You two have been together for six months now and I've seen his enthusiasm before, but not like this."
 

Buffy took the dress from Willow and put it on. "I know," she sighed. "But it's not like it happens when we're not having sex. If that was the case, I'd be really worried. What does have me worried is that he's been acting strange in other ways."
 

"How?"
 

"He gets really quiet and stares off into space," she answered. "Then he'll suddenly take off or we'll maul each other. And one night, I wore his duster to his place and he pretty much took it back. He also hasn't talked like he does in close to a month and a half, ever since we got out of that house. You know, how he starts on one thing and then goes on and on as he skips topics."
 

"You said that he's been acting like this since that game?" Willow asked. Buffy nodded. "Maybe something happened then that upset him."
 

"But what?" Buffy said. "He was fine that night and the next one..." She trailed off as she thought. "But the day we got that tape, I didn't see him at all. In fact, I didn't see him for days after that."
 

Willow was blushing and avoiding looking at Buffy at the mention of the tape. "So, um, now you know the day he got weird."
 

"Yeah, but why?" Buffy asked, staring at herself in the mirror. "Maybe Angel would know."
 

"Angel?" Willow squeaked. She had tried to avoid the dark-haired vampire ever since their ‘talk' over a month and a half ago. He had stayed away from her, as well, although she had caught a few smoldering glances sent her way across the Bronze at times. "But I thought Spike a-and Angel didn't like each other."
 

"They don't, but they have that childe-sire thing going and sometimes I've seen them talking," Buffy replied. She shrugged and added, "It wouldn't hurt to ask."
 

There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Buffy, something just came for you," Joyce said on the other side.
 

Buffy made sure her bites and bruises were covered, then opened the door. "Was it from Ed?"
 

"Don't I wish," Joyce replied with a wry smile. She handed her daughter an invitation size envelope. "That's a nice dress, sweety. But isn't it a little warm?"
 

Buffy smoothed the long sleeves and high collar down. "Nah, I'm fine."
 

"Ok," she said, shaking her head. "There's fresh sun tea. Help yourselves."
 

"Thanks Mom," Buffy answered and closed the door. She looked at the plain, creme object in her hand. "Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to do the dance of joy when I open this?"
 

Willow shrugged as the Slayer slid her finger under the flap and opened the envelope. She pulled out a stiff, designer invitation and groaned as she scanned it. "What does it say?" Willow asked.
 

"‘Slayer, your presence is requested, along with the Vampire and six teammates, at the Endgame,'" Buffy read. "‘Attendance in full is mandatory, or your lives will be forfeited. More instruction will be given on location.' Then it gives an address, date and time. Oh look, how convenient. A little map, too."
 

"The Fehu strike again," Willow said, taking the invitation from the Slayer. "This is this Friday. As in tomorrow night."
 

"And it looks like six other people get to join me and Spike. Fun," Buffy said sarcastically.
 

"We'd better go see Giles," the redhead told her, picking up her bag. Buffy grabbed her purse and followed Willow out the door.
 

Spike pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to stop the images in his head. "Will you leave me alone!" he yelled into the empty apartment.
 

In his mind, Drusilla laughed coyly at him.
 

A swollen sun melting in the horizon
Between the sheets where I wait for her to come
A living flame, impossible to resist
Burning me deep with every bite, kiss and lick
 

With a growl, he spun, picked up the nearest object and hurled it at the wall. The lamp shattered upon impact, the cord still plugged into the wall, making it send sparks of electricity into the air. Unsatisfied, he threw a framed picture next, followed by the night stand itself. The wood splintered, a giant hole forming in the wall where it hit. Blankets and pillows flew off the bed, the mattress ripping under his clawed attack.
 

Invades my sleep with tumescent intentions
Hades I'm sure must be missing a demon
I hate the morning
I hate the morning
 

Storming out of the bedroom, his wild eyes flit around the room for more things to destroy. Magazines, books, videos, and CDs all flew through the room, landing in tattered heaps on the floor. The coffee table was upended, the legs smashed off to become parodies of wooden bats as Spike swung at the knick-knacks on the shelves. Nothing was spared from the vampire's violence. And still, none of the violence silenced the siren's voice in his mind.
 

From the panes a green mist swirls
Is it a shadow or reflection?
This apparition in moon beams bathed
A voice like wind through the trees beckons
 

Into the kitchen he went, opening cabinets and smashing the dishes within on the floor. Not a single thing remained in its proper place under his tirade. With each slam of a plate or glass, he yelled at the vampiress in his head. "You didn't want me! YOU left me first! I even bloody tortured you and you only laughed! I love the Slayer, so you just SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!"
 

A sea of glass coated the ground, but the vampire didn't care as he stormed back out of the room, the shards embedding deeply in his bare feet, cutting him.
 

Cool rain on hot summer stone
The odor fills my presence
Of freshly dug grave and death and night
These things are her essence
 

Trailing bloody footprints across the carpet and over objects in his way, Spike returned to the bedroom and threw himself on the ripped bed. His world was spinning out of control, his body aching to either hurt and destroy or be held and comforted. Rage and hyperactivity hummed under his skin, making him almost shake as he tried to gain control.
 

Nocturnal mistress, spirit lover
Your mouth of wine and woodsmoke taste
My goddess of the violet twilight
You are lust incarnate
 

Spike grabbed the phone off the second, still untouched night stand. He punched the familiar numbers, his hand tight around the receiver as he waited for an answer.
 

"Hello?"
 

"It's Spike. I need the Slayer," he told Joyce, the phrasing of his request dead accurate.
 

"I'm sorry, Spike," Joyce said over the line. "She just left with Willow. Do you want to leave her a message?"
 

His precarious hold over his sanity, which had been slowly chipped away over the past month and a half, was lost with this news and Drusilla smiled victoriously in his mind. The one person who could calm him with a touch of her hand wasn't there for him. "Tell her I'm sorry," he replied, then hung up the phone.
 

In the sweat of my bed
The eastern sky hints of dawning
Alone and awake but exhausted I lie
Oh how I hate the morning
 

He stood and grabbed his duster off the chair. Sliding it on over his T-shirt and jeans, he headed for the front door of the townhome. He threw the door open and stood on the threshold, looking out into the early day.
 

I hate the morning
I hate the morning
 

Two perfect, bloody footprints glared mockingly at the sky as the door swung closed.
 

"So, what do you think?" Buffy asked, looking up at her Watcher. "Should we go or not?"
 

"If their record wasn't accurate as to their ability to-to, er, kidnap you and Spike, I would say no," Giles began. "But I suspect we should take the-the threat to our lives very seriously."
 

"That's what I thought, too," she said, pushing up her sleeves on the red dress because of the heat from the hot August weather. "Willow, are you getting anything about this ‘Endgame'?"
 

"Nothing," Willow replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "Just the date and time it takes place and the betting information. Oh neat. You can bet on you, Spike or any one of the team you choose; or as a whole."
 

"How thrilling," Buffy said sarcastically. She turned her attention back to Giles. "What's the plan, Giles?"
 

"First, the, er, six teammates should be chosen and informed as soon as possible," Giles answered. He set down the invitation and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Then, I suspect we should explain what happened during the other games and um, pack our weapons."
 

"Well, Spike and me are already going. Angel will probably go with no problem and so would Faith," Buffy said. "That's two."
 

"I'm going," Willow stated. "And I know Xander would want to go."
 

"Make that four."
 

"Five," Giles said. "I am going, as well."
 

"Ok, five then," Buffy confirmed. "Now, we need one more. But who?"
 

"Forget it," Cordelia said, trying to close the door in Buffy's face later that afternoon.
 

"I wouldn't bother you if we didn't need your help," Buffy said sticking her foot against the door.
 

"What's in it for me?" Cordelia asked. "Death, injury, messed-up hair and ruined clothes? No, thank you."
 

"Cordelia, if we don't get a sixth person on the team, the Fehu will kill everyone who knows about me -- and that includes you," Buffy lied. It could be true, but she wasn't going to get into probabilities.
 

"Why don't you ask Oz?"
 

"Full moon. Amy is out of town and my mom will be gone, too," she informed the former cheerleader. "I hate to say this, but you're our only hope."
 

Cordelia studied the Slayer for a minute, then threw up her hands. "Fine. But you owe me big. What do I need to do?"
 

"We're meeting at the library at eight," Buffy answered, moving her foot. "We'll explain everything then."
 

"I'll be there. But if I so much as get one chipped nail, you are in a world of hurt," Cordelia told her, then closed the door in her face.
 

"Angel?" Willow called as she entered the mansion at the same time Buffy was talking to Cordelia. She really didn't want to be the one to contact the vampire, but Giles needed to get Faith, who was in LA for the week. Xander was easily informed with a quick phone call and he was thrilled to be a part of the action.
 

"Willow," Angel said, coming out of the bedroom. "Is there something wrong?"
 

**I'm not in your arms,** Willow thought. Instead, she stammered, "N-No. Well, yes but not in a life or death sort of way. Actually, it is life or death if you say no. Or we don't get six people. I wonder if Buffy convinced Cordelia? That would not be good if she can't."
 

"Willow," Angel interrupted, putting his hands on her shoulders. He immediately removed them as the attraction flared up between them. "Why are you here?"
 

"Oh, heh-heh," she replied, nervously clenching her hands together. "Buffy got an invitation to the next game and it says she has to have six teammates. So far, it's me, Giles, Faith and Xander. Buffy's trying to get Cordelia and I came to ask you."
 

"Of course I'll do it," he told her.
 

"Oh good," she sighed in relief. "We're meeting at the library at eight to go over the different games so far and make some plans." Her eyes widened as she realized what she'd just said. "Oh goddess, we're going over the games. Including the house. The house where we...we did things that they don't need to know about. Not even Buffy knows. Unless you told her. You didn't tell her, did you?"
 

"No, I didn't tell her," Angel replied, walking away from the temptation to pull her in his arms. "Only Spike knows."
 

"You told Spike?!"
 

"No, he could...smell us," he said.
 

Willow reddened. "Oh. You don't think he told Buffy, do you?"
 

"No. I told him not to, and despite his being a jerk, he still listens to me at times," Angel told her. "Although lately, I'm surprised he hasn't gotten himself killed for the things he does say when I've found him out and about."
 

"Buffy said he's been acting all weird," Willow confided. "She's also got lots of bites and scratches."
 

"That's normal with vampires," he said, slightly embarrassed.
 

"I know, but not to this extent," she replied. "She looks like she was wrapped in barbed wire then thrown into a cobra pit." Angel looked at her in surprise and shock. "I was hoping you'd talk to Spike and find out what's wrong. She says he's been like this since we had our...since the day we...since you told me that you were leaving."
 

Angel thought back to that day and tried to remember how Spike was acting, but most of his memories revolved around the petite redhead in front of him. "I'll talk to him tonight."
 

"Thanks," Willow said. "I'd, uh, better go. I'm trying to find out more over the ‘Net about this new game." She smiled nervously at him, then turned and left.
 

Part Two

"No answer," Buffy said as she hung up the phone back at the library. "He's probably still asleep."
 

"At six in the evening?" Willow asked skeptically. "Didn't you tell me he barely sleeps at all?"
 

"True, but Spike sometimes does get to sleep late in the afternoon and then won't get up until the sun sets," she replied. "I'll wait until closer to seven and try again."
 

"Never fear, Xander is here," Xander announced as he pushed through the library doors, boxes in hand. "And I come bearing gifts of fruit and wine."
 

"It looks like pizza, Xander," Buffy said.
 

"Ah yes, but it has pineapple on it," the dark-haired teen replied, setting the boxes down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, paper bag and held it aloft. "And I got grapes."
 

Giles walked by and took the bag of grapes without breaking his gaze from the book he was reading. "You're welcome, your tweedness," Xander said after him.
 

"What?" Giles asked, raising his head. "Oh yes. Thank you, Xander."
 

"Faith! Pizza's here!" Buffy yelled up towards the stacks. They heard a thump, then the brunette Slayer appeared.
 

"Hey, Xand-man," Faith greeted, hopping over the railing to land next to the table. "‘Za me."
 

The group of friends had ironed out any differences with the second Slayer that had occurred in the past and, although she tended to be a loner, the four got along well. She was still uncomfortable around Angel and Spike, as was Giles, but was fine with them as long as they didn't try to munch on her.
 

"Here you go, Wills," Buffy passed the redhead a piece of pizza over the counter.
 

"Thanks," Willow replied, not looking away from the computer much the same as Giles hadn't looked away from his book. "Hey, this address is for the old gaming complex outside of Chesterton."
 

"Gaming complex?" Xander said. "That place where they use to hold indoor laser tag and had all those video games?"
 

"And billiards and ski-ball and foosball and mini-golf," Willow confirmed. She took a bite of her pizza and chewed while she thought. "There's a blueprint for it."
 

"Let's see," Giles said, walking around through the office to come up behind her. "There don't seem to be many windows."
 

"That's probably why they picked the place," Buffy said around her bite of food. "Whatever this ‘Endgame' is will probably take a while to complete, and they don't want the vampires or other sun- allergic creatures to poof on them."
 

"Endgame is a chess term," Xander said. Faith and Buffy looked at him with matching skeptical expressions. "It means the final moves of the game, when each player tries to complete his plans to checkmate."
 

"Since when do you know anything so geeky?" Buffy asked. Xander shrugged, stuffing his mouth full of pizza instead of answering. "Gross much?"
 

"When's the Queen of Bitchiness getting here again?" Faith said. She chuckled when Xander started to choke. "What's the matter, Xand?"
 

"Cordelia is coming?" Xander gasped around his food.
 

Buffy nodded. "She's our sixth."
 

"Excuse me, I'm going to save the Fehu the trouble and kill myself now," he informed them, then headed out of the library.
 

"Think I should go after him?" Faith asked Buffy. "Rub it in a little?"
 

"Nah," Buffy replied. "We'll wait until he gets back to rub it in."
 

"Hey, guys, be nice to Xander about Cordelia," Willow scolded.
 

"Why?" both Slayers said simultaneously, then burst into laughter.
 

"Buffy."
 

The girls turned to see Angel standing in the stacks. "Angel, what are you doing here?" Buffy said, glancing at the window. "How are you here?"
 

"Overcast," Angel replied, his gaze going to the redhead over at the computer, then quickly back at the blond Slayer. "I need to talk to you."
 

"Ok," she said, heading over to the stairs to join him in the stacks. "What's so important that would drag you over here during the day?"
 

"Willow told me about what Spike has been doing to you," he told her, his expression serious.
 

"Oh, I'm going to murder her..."
 

"Buffy, stop. She's just worried about you," Angel said. "I decided to take advantage of the bad weather and get to the tunnels to go pay him a visit to see what was wrong."
 

"What did he say?" Buffy asked when he paused.
 

"He wasn't there. The townhome was trashed and I found dried, bloody footprints all over the place," he said quietly. "There were two perfect ones on the threshold, facing outside. Then there was a partial one on the step, then nothing."
 

Buffy's heart dropped to her feet and she couldn't breathe. "No," she barely said, staring at him with wide eyes as she realized what he was inferring. "No, that's not true. He's fine. He's just asleep, like all good vampires should be."
 

"Buffy-"
 

"NO!" Buffy yelled, running out of the stacks and over to the phone. She picked up the receiver and punched the numbers with a hard finger.
 

Willow came around through the office and walked over to Angel, who had come down the steps. "What did you say to her?"
 

"I think Spike may have..." Angel trailed off as Buffy banged her hand on the counter and began screaming into the receiver.
 

"PICK UP THE PHONE! PICK UP! PICK UP! PICK UP!"
 

"Oh goddess," Willow breathed as she caught what Angel was saying.
 

Angel moved behind Buffy and wrapped his arms around her, pinning hers to her side as she continued to scream. Giles took the receiver from her hand and hung up the phone, exchanging a concerned look with the vampire. Xander came running into the library and stopped suddenly as he halfway collided with Faith.
 

"What's going on?" he asked.
 

"We're going over to Blondie's," Faith said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back out the door. "And hope to hell that we don't find him DOA."
 

"DOA?"
 

"Dust on arrival."
 

Giles phoned Joyce while Angel and Willow tried to calm the hysterical Slayer. He had to shut both office doors and cover one ear to hear her. "Joyce? It's Rupert."
 

"Rupert, what is all that noise in the background?" Joyce asked over the line.
 

"It's Buffy," he told her. "She's a tad hysterical."
 

"What's wrong?" Joyce said quickly.
 

"It would seem that A-Angel went over to speak to Spike and he was not there," he answered.
 

"Not there? But Spike called earlier this morning," she said.
 

"He did?" Giles jumped on the reply. "What did he say? It is imperative that you remember his exact words."
 

"He said he needed Buffy and I told him she had left and asked if he wanted to leave a message," Joyce told him. "Then he said to tell her he was sorry and hung up."
 

"Oh dear lord," he gasped. He heard a loud crash outside and quickly stood, throwing open the office door. Willow was helping Angel up from a pile of broken chairs and Buffy was nowhere to be seen or heard.
 

"Rupert, what is going on?" Joyce said exasperated.
 

"I am afraid there might have been an accident," Giles replied, his voice abnormally loud in the silence following Buffy's screams. "Or a suicide."
 

"This doesn't look good," Xander commented as he surveyed the trashed townhome with Faith.
 

"Do you know how big Spike's feet are?" Faith asked as she squatted down in front of the dried blood in the doorway.
 

"I can go find a shoe," he said, going further into the apartment to the bedroom. He whistled when he saw the ripped mattress and the rest of the mess. He spotted a pair of shoes under a surprisingly upright chair and grabbed one, then returned to Faith. "Here."
 

"Thanks," she replied, taking it from him and measuring it against the print. "It's a match."
 

"I think all these broken dishes in here might be why all the blood," Xander commented from over by the kitchen. "Plus, this is where the footprints start. It looks like he went into the bedroom, then came back and went right out the door."
 

"Into the day," Faith said morosely, looking around the front step and the walkway. "But I don't see any dust piles."
 

"They could have washed away with the rain," he suggested. "Or blown away. There has been crappy weather most of the day."
 

"Say that again," she told him.
 

"What? Crappy weather?"
 

"Yeah," Faith said, standing. "Have you seen the sun at all today?"
 

"Only a little this morning," Xander answered. The proverbial light bulb went on above his head. "Maybe he tried to off himself but the sun didn't cooperate."
 

"That's what I'm thinking," she replied, squinting out into the fading day. "But where would he go?"
 

"Is there a tunnel or sewer entrance around here?" he asked.
 

"You go left, I'll go to your other left," Faith told him.
 

"SPIKE!" Buffy yelled as she ran up the walkway to the open townhome, Faith on her heels. "SPIKE!"
 

"B, he's not there!" Faith tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen.
 

Buffy ran into the townhome, her eyes wild. She flew towards the single bedroom and began throwing things off the floor, looking for him. "SPIKE! WHERE ARE YOU, YOU STUPID VAMPIRE?!"
 

"Buffy!" Faith put the other girl in an arm lock, with her arms under Buffy's and her hands locked behind the blond's head. "He's. Not. Here."
 

"Nooooooo," Buffy wailed, arms flailing. "Let me go."
 

"No, B. Not until you calm down," she said. Xander appeared and walked to the front of Buffy and slapped her.
 

"Buffy, stop," Xander commanded, his voice harsh. Buffy stopped wailing and stared at him, tears streaming down her face. "I think he's fine. I found another footprint outside of a sewer entrance about half a block from here. If you calm down, we'll call the library and get some flashlights and go look for him. Ok?"
 

Buffy nodded and Faith released her. The blonde fell to the floor, pulling the blankets to her and holding them close. She inhaled deeply, taking in Spike's familiar scent and let herself cry. Xander motioned for Faith to follow him and they both left the bedroom.
 

"I'll call Giles, you keep a guard on her until we can all go together," he told her.
 

"I hope that bastard's still alive or undead or whatever the hell he is," Faith said. "So I can stake him myself."
 

Part Three

Joyce volunteered to stay at the library and relay messages between the groups as they split up to search the sewers for the peroxide-blond vampire. Xander went with Giles, Angel went with Willow and the two Slayers went together, each pair going in a different direction through the many offshoots that ran under Sunnydale.
 

"Alright, I'm here," Cordelia said, entering the library. She frowned when she didn't see anyone. "Hello?"
 

"Cordelia, hi," Joyce said quietly as she came out of the office.
 

"Where's Giles?" she asked. "And the rest of the MOD Squad?"
 

"They're looking for Spike," Joyce replied.
 

"Eew, why would they want to find that bleached bloodsucker?" Cordelia said.
 

"He's Buffy's boyfriend," she answered.
 

"But I thought Angel was...you know what? I don't want to know," the former cheerleader said. "I came for this meeting, interrupting my summer rerun schedule, and no one is here."
 

"I don't think they will be holding it tonight," Joyce said. "I'll tell Ru-Mr. Giles to call you tomorrow, is that alright?"
 

"Yeah, fine," she said. "But if this happens again, I am not helping Buffy even if it is the end of the world...again." With that, the brunette left the library.
 

Under the town, three groups of searchers were having no luck. As the hours passed, and the night came closer to dawn, spirits were low. Each of the teams ran into several vampires and other sewer creatures that they easily dispatched because of the element of surprise. But the one vampire they wanted to find was still AWOL.
 

"Angel, what if we don't find him?" Willow voiced her concerns for the first time since they split off from the others. "Buffy loves him as much as she loved you, maybe more. Oh, I shouldn't have said that."
 

"It's ok, Willow," Angel said, sloshing through the water at her side. "Buffy and I just weren't meant to be. Our relationship was too filled with secrets and tension. And you know we didn't talk much."
 

"Yeah. You were Mr. Cryptic-Brooding-Guy," she replied with a smile for him. "Now you're Mr. Not-So-Cryptic-Brooding-Guy."
 

"Funny," he scoffed.
 

"I know," she said. "I should give up my aspirations of becoming a teacher or computer wunderkind and become a comedian."
 

"As Doug would say: ‘Don't quit your day job.'"
 

"You've seen The Cutting Edge?" Willow said, dumbfounded. "Since when do you have a VCR?" "Since some redhead mocked me for not having seen The Princess Bride," Angel replied. "I haven't been mocked in centuries."
 

"Well, there's a first for everything," she told him. Angel gave her a seldom-seen smile and they continued on for a few minutes in comfortable silence. The hacker was the first to hear something, which she brought to her companion's attention.
 

"I hear it," Angel said quietly. He gave her the flashlight and pulled out a stake. The two sloshed as quietly as possible towards the noise. As they got closer, they began to hear a repetitious sound with muffled words in between.
 

"You...< scrape > ...Stupid...< scrape > ...Bloody... < scrape > ...Bitch... < scrape > ...I... < scrape > ...Hate... < scrape > ...You... < scrape > ...Stupid...< scrape > ...Bloody... < scrape > ...Bitch... < scrape > ...I... < scrape > ...Hate... < scrape > ...You... < scrape > ...Stupid...< scrape > ...Bloody... < scrape > ...Bitch... < scrape > ...I... < scrape > ...Hate... < scrape > ...You... < scrape >...Stupid...< scrape > ...Bloody... < scrape > ...Bitch...."
 

Angel was first to round the corner and he froze, causing Willow to bump into him. But she didn't make a noise as she stared at the blond vampire. He didn't seem to notice the flashlight shining directly on him, he just continued to punch at a hole in the brick wall, repeating the same sentence over and over.
 

" ...Hate... < scrape > ...You... < scrape > ...Stupid...< scrape > ...Bloody... < scrape > ...Bitch... < scrape > ...I... < scrape > ...Hate... < scrape > ...You... < scrape > ...Stupid...< scrape > ...Bloody... < scrape > ...Bitch... < scrape > ...I... < scrape > ...Hate... < scrape > ...You... < scrape >...Stupid...."
 

Willow must have made a noise, because Angel moved into action. He quickly got behind Spike and wrapped both arms around him, pulling him away from the wall. The hacker hurried over with the light as the blond vampire snarled and struggled against his sire. "Willow, grab his left arm," Angel told her through clenched teeth.
 

She rounded the two vampires and stuck the flashlight in her front overall pocket and latched onto Spike's arm with both hands. The light shined up into her face, casting a scary glow over her features as her green eyes widened. "Oh goddess, Angel, his hand."
 

Angel moved so rapidly, it was if he hadn't moved at all. He let go of Spike with one arm and plucked the heavy Mag light out of Willow's pocket, then bashed the blond in the back of the skull, rendering him unconscious. Spike slumped down into the water, almost pulling Willow with him. "I got him," the dark-haired vampire told her as he stuck the light back in her pocket.
 

Willow let go only to retrieve the light and shine it down on Spike's hand. Clenched into a fist that resembled a piece of hamburger was a fragment of brick. It was worn on the sides from repeated scraping as he had withdrawn his hand each time he punched the sewer wall.
 

"What time is it?" Angel asked as he hoisted the unconscious vampire over his shoulder.
 

"Almost five," she answered.
 

"We need to get above ground and to the mansion," he told her as they rapidly backtracked to the access hatch they recently passed. "Call Joyce and tell her to get driving. Run ahead and as soon as you hit the surface, tell her where we are."
 

"Right," she replied, running through the water with loud splashes. She pulled out the cell phone and hit the redial button, the phone already being on and twice used. "Mrs. Summers? It's Willow. Call me back on your cell phone. We found Spike and need to get him and Angel to the mansion before dawn."
 

"How is he?" Buffy immediately pounced on Angel as soon as he exited the bedroom. "Can I see him? I want to see him."
 

The others in the mansion's main room looked exhausted and disheveled from trekking through the sewers for hours. Yet, each of them held a look of concern for the comatose, blond vampire in the other room.
 

"Go ahead, Buffy," Angel told her. "But don't try to wake him up." He said the last part to thin air because the Slayer had already dashed into the room.
 

"How is he?" Willow repeated the question with quiet consternation. She was the only one besides Angel to see how Spike had been acting, and to see his hand as well. Angel had wrapped his hand while they waited for Joyce in a storefront doorway.
 

"Not good," Angel replied, giving each of his guests a serious look. "When Willow and I found him, he was repeatedly hitting the sewer wall and by the look of his hand and the size of the hole, I'd say he'd been doing it for eight to ten hours." He moved over to the couch next to the hacker and sat down heavily, rubbing a weary and worried hand over his features. "He was also saying one looped sentence: ‘You stupid bloody bitch, I hate you.'"
 

"Do you know who he was referring to?" Giles asked.
 

Angel shook his head. "No. But he came to briefly while I was getting him into bed and I had to knock him over the head again because of his violent actions."
 

"Spike?" Buffy said, sitting next to the bed and brushing his cheek with her hand. Tears were falling slowly down her face. "What happened, Spike? Why did you scare me like that? Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
 

She studied his peaceful features, her heart pounding a steady, worried staccato in her chest. Her hand moved down to clasp his right, unbandaged one lying on his stomach. "Did I do something? Is that it? I can fix it. You just have to tell me what it is," she said. Her other hand came up to muffle her choked sob. "Oh, Spike, I love you so much. Please tell me what's wrong."
 

She began to cry heavily, her head now on the bed over the hand she held. She didn't understand what was happening to the vampire she loved. She didn't understand his strange behavior over the past month and a half; his violence and short-temperedness; the way he'd just leave her company suddenly; his restlessness, as if something was under his skin making him more hyper than normal.
 

"Buffy," Angel said quietly, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You need to go now."
 

"No," Buffy replied, sitting up and scrubbing the tears from her face. "I'm not going anywhere."
 

"You have to," Angel said. "I don't know how he's going to act when he wakes up again and I think the less distractions, the better. Plus, you have to rest up for the game tonight."
 

"I'm not going anywhere, Angel," she stated. Angel nodded and she thought she'd won, only to suddenly feel something sharp in her arm. She turned her head and saw Willow standing there looking guiltily, then down to see a feathered dart sticking her. "No...," Buffy trailed off as she slumped in the chair, the tranquilizer knocking her out. Angel picked her up and carried her into the other room, passing her to Faith. "What time again tonight?"
 

"We'll pick you a-a-and Spike up at seven thirty," Giles informed him. "That should give you both enough time to, er, eat."
 

Angel nodded. "Hopefully, Spike will be ok by then. If not..." He let the sentence trail off.
 

"Call if you need anything," Joyce said as Faith, Xander and Giles headed for the door. "I won't be leaving until four."
 

"Thank you, Joyce," he replied. She gave him a slight smile, then went out the door, as well.
 

"Angel, tell me the truth," Willow started from her place near the doorway. "Do you think he'll be ok?"
 

"I don't know," Angel told her. "I really don't know." She nodded and silently left.
 

With a sigh, he went into the bedroom and studied Spike for a moment, then he took the chair that Buffy had abandoned and settled down for a long day.
 

Part Four

Spike opened his eyes, not quite sure of where he was; he only knew that he couldn't feel his left hand and the bottom of his feet hurt. He looked left, then right, trying to ascertain where he was and why things seemed familiar. **I'm in Sao Paolo,** he thought as he recognized the bedroom that had been his in the house he had taken over with his minions. **What the bloody hell am I doing back here?**
 

He hadn't even thought about Brazil since he'd returned to Sunnydale to be with the Slayer. He remembered the night he'd just up and left, surprising his minions. He bet that they were relieved, however, with his departure, considering he terrorized them so badly they'd hide until he'd go out for the night. And while he was out, he'd frighten the locals with his restlessness and hyper behavior. He'd been kicked out of many clubs during the month he'd been away from the Slayer.
 

The Slayer. How he loved that little powerhouse. She made him feel calmer just by holding his hand, like she was his grounding wire. He didn't know why that was, but he really didn't care. All he cared about was her, the hunt and blood. If he ever got the chance, he'd love to mix the three together. It would make for a very interesting night, and a pleasurable one at that. He felt himself growing hard and his mind wandered back to the fact that he was in Brazil, not Sunnydale where his Slayer was located. **Time to focus, mate,** he scolded himself.
 

He took a step forward and paused when small, stabbing pains shot through his foot. He looked down and saw that he was barefoot, but that wasn't the odd part. What looked like thin, silver wires were attached to the tops of his feet. He saw two more attached to the tops of his hands and a third that hung in front of his body. When he lifted his left hand to tug on the wire in front of him, the skin and muscle melted together until his hand resembled ground beef with the whites of his bones popping through.
 

Curious, he tried to move his fingers and found that he couldn't, although he could move his wrist. He couldn't feel any pain radiating from it, in fact he couldn't feel his hand at all. It was as if it simply wasn't there. He frowned and let the appendage drop, using his right hand to tug at the wire in front of him instead. When he did this, his head jerked with the movement, making him realize that the fifth wire was coming from the top of his skull. **Is this somebody's idea of a sick joke?** he thought with a growl.
 

Looking at the floor, he saw that the wires all ran out of the bedroom. He followed them from the bedroom and down the hallway. He expected the slack to be dragging behind him as he went forward, but instead the wires stayed in front of him, as if someone were pulling on the other end as he moved. With that thought, he stopped suddenly to see what would happen.
 

Spike was almost jerked off his feet as the wires became taut. He tried to not go forward, but his heels skid on the floor as whomever was at the other end pulled him. His chin was on his chest, his arms out in front of him as the wires were pulled. Deciding he'd rather not fall flat on his face, he began walking again towards the source and was relieved to note that the tension slackened. However, the tension in his body caused by anger thrummed under his skin.
 

He heard her devilish laughter before he saw her. That sound was still music to his ears after all this time and he felt himself drawn to it. As he came into the main living area of the house, the room fluxed and changed, turning into an open, stone throne room with his Princess sitting on an ornate, gold throne.
 

Her dress was made of deep red velvet, molding to her body and setting a beautiful contrast against her pale, creamy skin. Her dark hair hung in tendrils around her face, her large eyes watching him with a naughty gleam. Her lips held a hint of the evil smile that he loved to see, because that meant her mind was conjuring up delightfully wicked things.
 

He kept walking towards her until he stood at the bottom of the two red, carpeted steps that led up to her. She tilted her head slightly, giving him a coy look. It was then he noticed that in her hand she held what looked to him like a cross with the silver wires that were attached to him leading right to it. She glanced down at what he was looking at, then returned her gaze to his, her lips curling up even more.
 

With one quick movement of her hand, he was yanked forward by the silver wires onto his hands and knees on the steps, his head bowed because of the tautness of the wire. Her delighted, wicked laughter filled the room, echoing off the stone walls. When it faded, he felt a cool finger under his chin, a sharp nail tracing lightly along his skin.
 

"Spike," Drusilla said, her voice hauntingly beautiful to him. Her hand moved away and he felt the wires relax. "Look at me, luv."
 

He raised his head to see her laying before him in a black corset and stockings, the throne room and steps having faded into a bedroom. She crooked her finger in a beckoning gesture, her tongue darting out to run over her lower lip. He felt himself crawling forward over her, as if he had no control over his actions. Her eyes held a malicious gleam as she pulled him flush against her body, her mouth capturing his.
 

Spike closed his eyes as her cool lips and tongue danced with his, and memories washed over him like a tidal wave. He grew hard in response to her expert teasing and he felt himself drowning in the sensations. She hadn't been this amorous in so very long, not since before she was injured in Prague. And when she had gotten well, his sire had returned and taken her from him and, no matter what he did, he couldn't get her back. Not even teaming up with the Slayer or later torturing her had....
 

He broke away from Drusilla, his eyes going wild as he realized what was going on. She began to laugh again; this time the sound was full of evil as she pulled him closer again, her fangs grazing his neck.
 

"No!" Spike yelled, trying to shove himself away from her. He fell off the bed and onto the stone floor, the vampiress watching him with mad eyes. He scrambled to his feet and tried to leave the room, but he was prevented by the silver wires that ran to the controller in her hand. She waved her fingers tauntingly at him.
 

"Leave me alone!" he spat at her, grabbing the wire attached to his head with his right hand and pulling with all his strength. The only thing that did was cause excruciating pain to tear at his skull. He felt rage bubble under his skin at being held like a hapless puppet under her control. But he wasn't going to let her get to him. He'd die before he would give in to her.
 

Angel was startled as Spike sat bolt upright and growled, his face changing to that of his demon. He went to restrain the younger vampire, but was unprepared for him to scramble out of the bed and head out the door of the bedroom with his hands holding his head.
 

"Leave me alone!" Spike yelled as images flitted through his mind. Memories of his times with Drusilla came to the foreground in rapid succession, like a movie on high speed. Then she was there again, laughing at him, pulling him, calling to him. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"
 

Angel was halfway out of the bedroom when he saw Spike charging headlong for the semi-boarded entry that led outside. With a burst of speed, he tackled his childe. Both of them skidded across the hard floor, stopping barely a centimeter before the wide patch of sunlight. He flipped Spike over and pinned the vampire to the floor, covering him with his body. "Spike, snap out of it!"
 

Spike struggled against him, growling until Angel slipped into game face and growled back in a sire's warning tone. The peroxide blonde's yellow eyes flashed in defiance, a snarl issuing from him. A low rumble echoed across the mansion from Angel in response, deep and full of the power that was kept in careful check around humans.
 

Spike stopped as suddenly as he started, his face taking on its handsome features once more. His ice blue eyes stared up into Angel's still gold ones with recognition, fear and submission. His sire nodded and let his own human mask drop into place as he became more aware of his surroundings. He was on the floor, in the mansion, in Sunnydale. Not in Brazil. Not with Drusilla.
 

Angel got to his feet and helped Spike up, then led him back towards the bedroom. Once there, he put his childe back into bed and stripped down to his boxers, then climbed in next to him. Forcing him on his side, Angel wrapped his arm around the younger vampire's body and held him close in the dominant position, his body spooning Spike's. "Tell me," he instructed, his tone offering no argument.
 

"She's in my head," Spike said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't get her out of my bloody head. She keeps calling to me, wanting me to go back to her, wanting me to love her again." Unknowingly, he clasped Angel's hand, holding his sire tighter to him in a protection-seeking manner. "It keeps getting worse. I feel like I'm a fucking marionette. Cor, Angelus, I was happy. Why can't she just let me be happy? She's the one who didn't want me, threw me away like yesterday's rubbish."
 

He felt exhaustion creep over him as he continued, the past month and a half of little sleep and high anxiety mixed in with his normal hyperactivity catching up to him. "I love the Slayer. What Dru and I had is over. Why does she want me now? Why can't she let me alone?"
 

Angel closed his eyes as Spike fell silent, forcing away his pain at the thought of Buffy being hurt, which would probably happen because Spike would either go insane from Drusilla's manipulations or kill himself. He could go down to Brazil and try to destroy Drusilla, but with the coming game it was impossible, and afterwards, it might be too late. The only thing he could do was try to protect his childe as best he could and pray to a God who didn't listen to creatures like him that everything would work out.
 

He felt Spike slip into sleep and he allowed himself one final thought before following, "I hope you're strong, Buffy, because it's going to be one horrible ride."
 

Buffy was still debating whether or not to kill Willow or thank her for knocking her out as she entered the mansion. On one hand, there was Spike. On the other, there was the game that night that she needed to be ready for. Maybe she would thank her best friend by not killing her.
 

She had said goodbye to her mother a short while ago and promised to be careful and stay alive; then, after dressing in easy-to-slay clothes and packing several weapons, she called Giles and told him to pick her up at the mansion with the guys. She had wanted to spend as much time with Spike as possible before her attention ended up being divided between the next game and her friends, as well as him.
 

Dropping the weapons bag on the couch, she made her way to Angel's bedroom. And came to a dead stop in the doorway.
 

For there, lying together in bed, were both Angel and Spike.
 

Buffy knew from the memories Spike had shared that he'd had a physical relationship with Angelus. She also knew that what she saw in front of her came nowhere close to the mental pictures she'd painted of that dominant/submissive relationship. If they weren't both male and very much adults, the scene before her would have reminded her of a mother comforting her child.
 

Then she realized that was exactly what Angel was doing; his soul gave him the ability to use his role as sire to comfort and protect Spike, rather than to be cruel, or to dominate and punish him. She felt a wellspring of tenderness for Angel bubble inside her and a small smile crossed her lips. For him to be doing something like that meant he truly cared for the blond vampire.
 

Silently, she entered and sat in the chair still next to the bed. The late afternoon sun that filtered into the main room of the mansion barely penetrated the bedroom, but enough light was cast so she could see her love's face clearly. Tears started to roll down her cheeks as she reached a hand out to brush against his brow.
 

Someone take these dreams away
That pull me to another day
A duel personality
No stranger to reality
 

Spike slowly opened his eyes, afraid of what he might find. He was becoming confused as to what was real and what were Drusilla's warped mind games. The dreams over the past month and a half kept getting more and more vivid, leading him to lash out with his fists and his words and his hard mating with the Slayer. And as time progressed, Drusilla invaded his waking thoughts, twisting them, using them to bring him to the brink of insanity.
 

He didn't even know why she was doing it, either. He still loved her, had a special place in his heart for her, but she was the one who had wanted it to end. She was the one who had laughed at his attempts to win her back. She was the one who had left him first. And so he had let himself fall in love with the Slayer and now Drusilla wanted him back. But he didn't want to go back to his dark, wicked queen. He wanted to stay with the woman who brought sunshine into his unlife just by being there. His Slayer. Buffy. Who was sitting in front of him with a face full of love and worry as she stroked his brow. When he focused on her, her mouth curled up in the corners as her lower lip trembled. "Hi," she said quietly. "How are you feeling?"
 

"Like I went a round with you while you were PMSing," Spike replied, his voice hoarse. He became aware of the fact that he was curled up against someone and it took a moment to register that it was his sire. And that he was holding Angel's hand tightly against his bare stomach in a protective manner. Drusilla must have really gotten to him if he had allowed himself to be in this position.
 

Buffy watched as confusion, then understanding, crossed his features. She looked past him and saw that Angel had propped his head up on his other hand and was watching both her and Spike. She hadn't realized that he had woken up, as well.
 

"Buffy," Spike said in a low voice. She returned her gaze to his and saw a palpable need reflected in them. Without a word, she kicked her shoes off and climbed under the sheets. Facing him, she wrapped her left arm around his bare waist between the two men and placed the other under his head as she held him to her chest.
 

Spike released Angel's hand only to pull down on the v-collar of her tank top until one of her breasts was free; then, he re-linked his fingers over his sire's and brought their hands behind her back to hold her to him. His left arm lay uselessly between them as he began suckling her tit like a babe, quickly slicing the tender skin around her nipple so her blood flowed like a mother's milk.
 

Spike's actions brought both arousing and nurturing feelings to Buffy. She met Angel's eyes over the blond's head and saw that he understood what was happening right then as well as what was wrong with Spike. Spike pulled her closer and she felt his erection pressed up against her, her clothing the only thing separating them.
 

Spike pressed Angel's hand against her back, then let go to move to the waistband of Buffy's shorts. He tugged down on them and she raised up slightly so he could push them and her panties down past her knees. She brought her left leg up out of the loosed material and draped it over his hip He never stopped suckling her breast as he slowly pushed into her core until he was fully sheathed within her heat.
 

He brought his hand around her again to entwine with Angel's and pulled the vampire behind him even closer to him. With this action, he was sandwiched between them, protected by them from both the outside world and inside his mind.
 

The three of them stayed like that, unmoving, until the sun sank over the horizon, signaling the end of day.
 

Part Five

"We only have little more than half an hour until we get picked up." Angel's voice seemed to echo, despite the quietness of his voice, when the silence was finally broken. He removed his hand from Spike's grasp and rolled out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower," he told them as he gathered his clothing, then left the room.
 

Spike felt immediately bereft after his sire had left. He felt bare, exposed, unprotected without the older vampire behind him. He raised his head to look at Buffy and rolled onto his back, still deep inside of her. He went to pull the tank top over her head, but found that his left hand was bandaged up tightly, preventing him from doing so. He frowned at the offending appendage as she sat up and yanked the clothing up over her head.
 

Buffy caught his eyes again, then lowered herself down as she began to move her hips, capturing his mouth with her own. Soon, they were both caught up in the slow, ageless rhythm, their tongues entwined in a lover's dance, until they fell silently into orgasm.
 

Afterward, Spike held Buffy closely to him, listening to the steady beat of her heart and whispered, "I love you, Buffy. No matter what, remember that I love you."
 

The ride to the gaming complex in Chesterton was made in silence, save for the rhythmic bouncing of Spike's leg. Xander had driven Willow and Faith, and Cordelia had gone separately, leaving Giles to chauffeur the two vampires and Buffy. He had borrowed one of the school vans for the trip, covering most of the windows with black construction paper just in case.
 

"There don't seem to be any lights on," Willow commented as the group stood together in the parking lot.
 

"Well, Motel 6 it isn't," Xander replied.
 

"There are other cars here, though," Buffy pointed out. "Don't know if that's a good thing or not."
 

"I guess we'd better go inside," Angel said, studying the large, warehouse-like building. "Everyone armed?"
 

As quietly as a group of eight that included Cordelia could be, they made their way over to the front doors and went inside. The entryway was completely bare save for a free-standing sign that had one light over it. "Welcome players," Buffy read out loud. "Slayer team go right; opposing team go left. Enjoy your stay."
 

"How nice of them," Faith said sarcastically as she looked down the hallway to the right. "Do you think we'll get those little chocolates on our pillows, too?"
 

"Only one way to find out," Buffy said, leading the troops down the right hall.
 

The hall opened up to a room with a single refrigerator and multiple outlets in the walls. There were no windows in the room but four doors, two of which were marked as the men's and ladies' restrooms. The third door led to another hallway with multiple small rooms off of it, which the group deduced to be the old offices. The fourth door opened up to reveal the center of the gaming complex, which was well-lit and huge.
 

And covered with large, bi-colored squares, like a giant chess board.
 

"You don't see Death lurking around, do you?" Xander asked as he followed Buffy and Spike out into the main room.
 

As the commentary went on behind them, the Slayer and the Vampire approached what looked like a computerized, gaming console. Attached to the screen was the expected white envelope, and Buffy gave Spike a look before picking it up and opening it. "Guys, you need to listen here," she raised her voice to quiet the others. When she had their attention, she went on. "Angel and Willow already know what this letter means, but for the rest of you, it contains the basic instructions for the game and how to win."
 

She made sure everyone was listening, then unfolded the letter. "‘Come crawling faster, obey your master,'" she read and looked over at Spike.
 

"Metallica," Spike replied to the unasked question. "Master of Puppets."
 

She nodded and continued, "‘Obey your master, players, or death will be your consequences. The master controls the action, the winner is up to you. So, choose your king wisely, for your lives are in his hands.'"
 

"What does it mean?" Willow asked.
 

"I s-suspect it has something to do with, er, chess," Giles said. He gestured to the large board on the floor. "It said to choose your king and that-that computer thing is in the white king's square."
 

Xander walked in front of Buffy and looked at the monitor. "It's a computerized chess game," he told the others. He moved the mouse pointer on ‘help' and clicked. "Hey, check it out, ladies and germs. ‘This is a live action chess game, where the king controls the movement of the other chess ‘pieces.' The board is recreated on the screen, allowing the king to see the entire field of play. Eight robotic pawns have been provided for you.'"
 

"Fascinating," Giles commented.
 

"‘Rules of play: To capture an opposing piece, the challenger for the square makes the first strike. If the challenger defeats the opponent, he moves to that square. If the challenger loses, the opponent may chose to move to the challenger's square or stay in his own. There will be a five-minute break between each challenge to clean up the bodies,'" Xander read.
 

"Why am I thinking this is not a good thing?" Faith said, looking out over the empty chess board.
 

"‘Each round of play will last four hours with a two-hour break in between,'" the dark-haired teen continued. "‘Other game rules: no one is to leave the field of play except for file one or eight until the break and then you can only go to your team's respective rooms; attempting to cross the field of play during the break will result in forfeiture; no one can leave the building once the game starts; food and medical supplies are located in the refrigerators; the game starts precisely at midnight.'"
 

They all stood silently for a moment, contemplating what Xander read. Cordelia was the one to break the silence. "Does this mean I'm stuck with you guys until whenever the game is finished?"
 

"Yes, I am afraid so," Giles replied.
 

"Then I'm getting some things from my car," Cordelia said as she turned to go. "I'm going to need something to do that doesn't require talking to you guys."
 

"You know, the Bitch Queen has a point," Faith said. "Xand, key me. I'm gonna get my walkman and some tunes from your car."
 

"Will you get my backpack, too?" Willow asked the brunette Slayer.
 

"Will do, Red," Faith replied, then left as well.
 

"I suppose we should pick who will be king," Giles said, removing his glasses to clean them. "I know a bit about chess, but I haven't played since I was a boy."
 

"I can play," Xander said.
 

"I know the rules, but I never actually played before," Willow said. "What about you, Angel?"
 

"I said, I can play," Xander repeated.
 

"Chess was never my game," Angel replied. He looked over at Spike. "What about you?"
 

"Hello? Can you hear me talking here?" Xander said.
 

"Yeah, right," Spike replied to Angel. "It took me ten years to learn to play the piano, and that wasn't boring like chess is."
 

"You play the piano?" Willow asked, her mind turning. "It was you playing at the house! Angel, it was Spike! You were so good. We thought it was a recording."
 

Spike shrugged the compliment off, looking instead around the room. He suddenly stiffened and froze, his entire body tense. Angel saw this and quickly walked over to his side. "What is it?"
 

"I guess that you do not know how to-to play, either, Buffy," Giles said. Buffy arched a brow at him, her back to the two vampires. "I figured as much."
 

"What about Faith or Cordelia?" Willow suggested.
 

"She's here," Spike answered Angel, his right hand clenching into a fist, the left still bandaged tightly and hanging uselessly at his side. His blue eyes darted around the empty room. "That bloody bitch is here."
 

"I doubt either of them know how to play," Buffy replied to Willow's question.
 

"Ok, people, am I invisible?" Xander said, moving in front of Willow and waving his hands.
 

"Xander, what are you doing?" Willow asked. "We have a serious problem here." She turned to Giles. "Maybe if we worked together..."
 

"Are you sure?" Angel said, putting his hand on Spike's shoulder.
 

Spike looked up at the taller vampire, fear and anger in his eyes. "Yes, I'm bloody well certain, you sod," he replied. His body tensed up further, the adrenaline rushing under his skin as tendrils of her whispers invaded his mind. "No," he ground out, putting his right hand to his forehead, trying to prevent her voice from affecting him.
 

"I KNOW HOW TO PLAY!" Xander suddenly shouted, causing everyone to jump.
 

In startled reaction, Spike's demon face came to the foreground and he growled loudly. He reached out and grabbed Buffy's hair, yanking her roughly around to face him. Her yelp of pain was cut off as his mouth descended upon hers viscously, his fangs cutting into her lips as he plunged his tongue between them. He broke the kiss, his yellow eyes flashing, and practically dragged her into the other room by her hair.
 

"Isn't anyone going to stop them?" Xander finally asked when they heard the door to the hall with the offices slam.
 

"They're fine," Angel said reassuringly. "Now, did you say that you knew how to play?"
 

Spike slammed Buffy up against the wall, causing her to gasp as the breath was knocked out of her. His mouth crushed against hers again as he shed his duster, letting it fall to the dirty floor. He grabbed the waistband of her shorts and panties, then pulled them down as far as he could without breaking away from her mouth. His good hand immediately sought her heat and he thrust two fingers into her as he raised his foot to shove her shorts and panties the rest of the way to the floor.
 

"Yeah," Xander replied, looking over at the doorway the couple had gone through.
 

"You do?" Willow said. "Since when?"
 

"Since you hooked me up with a computer," he answered. "I play online."
 

"What is your, er, standing?" Giles asked, long forgotten terminology coming to mind.
 

Spike freed his hard cock then rubbed it against Buffy's dark curls, his mouth moving from her mouth to her neck. His fangs sliced the skin as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He positioned himself, then slammed into her fully, her lower back banging against the wall. He set a furious pace, growling and biting at her skin as she held on for dear life.
 

"Master," Xander replied. "At least, in the arenas I play in."
 

"My word, Xander," Giles said. "That is-is-is astounding."
 

"And kinda freaky," Willow said. Xander looked hurt, and she quickly added, "I meant that with this game we need a ‘master' and you're a-a Master. Why didn't you tell me?"
 

Xander shrugged. "It's just something I do when everyone else is busy and I want to hide from my parents," he replied. "Nothing big about it."
 

"Well, Xander, I think it's wonderful," Giles told him. He gestured to the computer console. "I guess you should, er, familiarize yourself with that-that-that machine."
 

"Will do, big kahuna," Xander replied.
 

Buffy clawed at the back of Spike's neck as her lower back was constantly banged against the wall. He had sliced the skin of her upper chest and was gripping her buttocks painfully with one hand, the other just supporting her as he slammed in and out of her. She cried out as an orgasm as violent as he was tore through her body, her legs squeezing his waist in a death grip. Spike snarled loudly and ripped a bit of skin off from above her breast, causing her blood to flow freely as he latched his mouth over the wound.
 

Willow saw Angel stiffen suddenly, then relax again. "What is it?" she asked, concern winning over her nervousness around him.
 

"It's nothing," Angel replied. She gave him her ‘I'm not dropping this until you tell me, buster' look. "I, uh, heard Buffy...er..."
 

"Oh!" Willow said, her face reddening as she understood what he meant. The blush deepened as her mind brought up the memories of her and Angel and she quickly turned her attention to Xander, who was sitting behind the computer.
 

Angel closed his eyes briefly and swallowed. His mind had also brought up the memories when he realized why Buffy was crying out. He wanted nothing more than to grab the redhead and cart her off much as Spike did the Slayer and bury himself in her sweetness. "I'm going to go and...," he trailed off with a wane smile and left the main room.
 

Spike shot his dead seed deep within Buffy's core as her blood flowed over his tongue. He held her captive against the wall until she lowered her legs from around his waist. Raising his head, his yellow eyes met her hazel ones and he read confusion and slight fear in hers. Forcing the human mask back over his features, he stepped away from her and readjusted his clothing.
 

Buffy bent and quickly put her panties and shorts back on, then looked down at her chest and tank top. Both were covered with blood and scratches, most of which were already healing. She raised her eyes to his again and saw that his held tears. She stepped forward and opened her arms, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Hey, it's going to be ok," she cooed, misunderstanding the reason behind his tears. "It's just a little blood. It's not like you haven't done this before. I'll heal."
 

Spike just held her close, not really hearing her, as he forcefully pushed away Drusilla's delighted laugher, still echoing in his head.
 

Next