Giving a panicked look to her surroundings her breathing became restricted by the overwhelming fear that loomed up in her, she didn't recognise anything-the walls surrounding her were not the comforting ones of her bedroom or her dorm, the bed she was laying in was not the soft downy one of home but a harder one, worn with age.
She clutched her chest harder as she remembered what had happened, closing her eyes in an attempt to shut out the images that flooded her vision she curled up into a ball of pain and fear.
She'd fallen.
She'd fallen so far.
So far from grace.
It was dark out, pitch black to be precise due to lack of moon or stars. Thunder clouds hung heavy overhead, threatening Sunnydale with their low constant rumble, warning the world that tonight was not a good night.
Buffy sprinted hard across the grass, the long blades tickling her ankles as she pounded the earth in search of somewhere to hide-anywhere.
He was coming, quick and fast like lightning behind her, closing in on her and not surrendering his relentless pursuit.
Running out onto the street she dashed across the road, nursing her arm and hoping the bleeding would subside soon, it felt like someone had a branding iron pressed into her flesh-the white hot pain echoing through her bones until she felt like passing out.
She glanced quickly over her shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the vampire chasing her and trying to increase her pace as she saw he was no further than twenty metres behind her.
As she faced forwards again and pushed herself past the limits she felt a sudden wobble and the world seemed to give way.
Coughing as she came to, Buffy looked up at the sky towering above her, a bolt of lightning illuminating the large hole she had fallen into and she gasped as the vampire appeared above her-looming in the darkness.
Trying to scramble to her feet, she winced in pain as her ankle gave way and she fell to the floor once more.
She held her arm tightly to her chest as the vampire dropped into the hole, landing firmly on his feet and stalking towards her.
This was it she realised.
There were no second chances.
No time outs.
No cut me a breaks.
It was over.
She closed her eyes tight as he neared her and then she felt a sudden defiance rise up in her, she may be near death, staring it in the face but she was still the Slayer and she wasn't going to die being scared.
Holding her head up high, she opened her eyes and then flinched as the vampire disintegrated in front of her eyes, his dust catching the breeze and drifting away. For a moment there was hope, hitched in her throat, and a thought that she was going to make it, things were going to be okay.
Then a low chuckle ripped through her, paralyzing every nerve and sending it off in a silent scream.
Slinking out of the shadows in front of her and coming to stand where her pursuer had been not seconds before was another vampire, older, stronger, a master of his own kind and a slayer of Slayers.
She gasped and felt her head spin as he hauled her up by her arm, grasping it tightly and raking his eyes over the wound and then her. Feeling nauseous, Buffy felt the pain burning through her and then nothing, as she fell into unconsciousness all that echoed in her head were his dulcet tones breathed close to her ear.
"And here I thought the evening a bit dull…"
Buffy jumped and winced as the door to her right flew open to reveal the platinum blond vampire himself, his cheeks sucked into a wide grin as he inspected her where she sat on the four poster bed.
Curling up into a tight ball she heard the clink of chains and realised for the first time she was tied up, her head pounded harder at that thought, she was trapped, kidnapped by the one vampire who'd escaped her so many times and now she was his-a slave to his whims.
Spike sat down on the bed next to her and frowned as she tried to slink away, tried to distance herself from him. Growling low in his throat, he grasped hold of her ankle and yanked her back towards him. She cried out as he gripped it tighter, letting his claws scratch the surface of her skin.
Catching hold of her arm, he concentrated on inspecting the long and angry wound that ran from her wrist to past her elbow.
Last night had been hell, he'd been walking through the tunnels to see what the commotion was when he'd found the vampire trying to kill the Slayer, on his turf. Despatching him was easy, killing the Slayer however proved to be a little harder. Even though she'd passed out in his arms like a swooning girl in a period drama he had somehow lost his desire to kill her, limp and lifeless as she'd slumped against him he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd told himself the only reason he didn't want to kill her was because she was unable to put up a decent fight, she hadn't stirred his appetite in the way she usually did with her quips and her beautiful violence.
Buffy pressed her free hand against her chest as she watched him, part of her was surprised to find her heart still beating strongly against her breastbone, the other part was chilled with fear-there would be a reason he was keeping her alive, something dark and terrifying.
Spike inhaled slowly, savouring the heady scent of her fear and the musk of Slayer as it mixed in with the memory of her sweet perfumed skin. He remembered it well, carrying her into the bedroom, her prone form resting gently in his arms as he growled commands to his minions. They'd looked shocked at first, horrified that their master was with the Slayer and she still had a heartbeat. He'd told them he wanted a little fun, she'd be dead by morning, he'd lied.
Not that it mattered what minions thought.
He hadn't told the lie to them.
He'd told it to himself.
He'd cleaned the wound the best way he knew how, had taken her small hand in his and given himself a moment to adjust to the feeling of her warmth seeping into him before dipping his head and licking the cut. The strength of her blood had made his head spin at first, his body hardening and his desire rocketing out of control as her blood entered his veins. He'd never remembered it being so potent, so intense, so full of life. He'd broke in that moment, the Slayer blood induced daze causing his demon to recede and allowing William to push his way to the surface, bringing with him thoughts of poetry and lingering echoes of feelings once lost.
Spike growled and felt her pull away.
Coming out of his reverie he found William awaiting him, taunting him with soft words and tenderness that burnt into his undead heart.
She was beautiful…
An angel…
Full of grace.
Spike growled again and stood up sharply, forcing the unbidden feelings and words back down inside and holding them there as he looked down at her. Her wide eyes said it all, she was scared of him, her soft cheeks becoming tear stained as they escaped her eyes. Where was the self-control he'd seen in her all those times? The disciplined emotions that never went unchecked during the fight? The disconnected killer that she used to be? In front of him was a scared little girl, her eyes full of fear and panic as she watched his every move, her body trembling under his gaze and her arms wrapped tightly and protectively around her.
"Hello, beautiful." Spike smirked as he tilted his head to one side, watching her retreat further backwards against the headboard of the bed.
Buffy felt her heart hammering hard against her chest, her arm and ankle burning with pain and the panic in her was sickening.
"Why?" She said through cracked lips, her mouth drier than the desert.
"Why not?" Spike countered and moved across the room, slowly pacing around the bed as his eyes remained fixed on hers.
"What do you want with me?"
Spikes instant thought was to ask what didn't he want with her, he wanted it all. Shaking his head to clear it of such a ridiculous thought, he just smirked as a reply.
"Did you…" Buffy touched her neck and then hurriedly touched the other side, searching for signs of him.
"No…not yet." He circled back around her, enjoying the feeling of her eyes following him and the way she was slowly growing more accustomed to his presence.
She looked down at her arm and felt his eyes fall there also.
"But you did this…" She stared at the long wound, it was starting to heal thanks to her Slayer abilities and him.
"Tasted you…sweet like ambrosia."
"Why keep me alive…why risk my getting free?"
"No risk there." Spike sat down beside her and slipped his hand around the back of her head, his fingers running through her sweat soaked hair. "Besides…I have a million reasons for wanting you alive…"
Buffy shuddered under his touch and closed her eyes as he leant in close to her neck, her breath escaping her in a small sigh as he brushed his lips against her throat. Spike inhaled deeply, catching the scent of her desire.
"…Make that a million and one." He whispered.
When she opened her eyes he was gone, the bedroom door closing swiftly behind him and she bit her lip hard.
She'd fallen alright.
Only he'd caught her.
He stood silent. The cigarette smoke curling from his lips as he blinked slowly, his eyes fixed on her as she slept fitfully. Her breathing was laboured, a rough noise in his ears that betrayed her pain. Sliding his eyes down her body he let them come to rest on her arm as he took another drag, the comforting burning sensation in his lungs the only thing keeping him stationary, still, calm.
As a tiny glint caught his eye he tensed his jaw, steeling himself against the temptation that was calling to him, the scent of her blood hanging heavy in the air, thickening it and setting him on edge. He watched the pearl of blood on her arm as it clung to the surface of her skin as though it didn't want to part from her, she was doing her best to heal but for some reason it was eluding her.
Flicking his cigarette to the floor, he ground it into the dirt with the toe of his boot and sighed out the last of the blue-grey smoke, letting it drift away and dissipate before his eyes. He only wished he could let her do the same.
The smell of her was driving him insane, driving his minions insane. He'd fought with them all day, couldn't leave the lair all night because he knew they would try to do something foolish. He chuckled.
Foolish.
Like bringing the Slayer back alive.
Like trying to heal her wounds.
Shaking his head he sniffed and stood up straighter, visibly bracing himself against the feelings that she stirred, the memories of emotions once lost.
He could taste them in the air around him, a metallic tang on his tongue as he licked his lips. A single drop of her blood would be all it would take to bring them back to him, a taste of the life in her veins and the humanity she carried. Slayer blood.
Potent and alluring as it was it had its dangers, a price you had to pay if you weren't as hardened against the world as you should have been. He closed his eyes as the images replayed inside his mind, the fights he'd won against her kind, the sweet taste of victory, the rush of emotions as their blood had entered his veins.
Opening his eyes sharply he narrowed his now amber iris' on her, watching her as she sighed in her sleep, her body making slow, fitful movements under the sheets. He swayed slightly as he kept his eyes fixed on her, lulled by her heartbeat and her scent.
He had to have it.
Wanted it.
Needed it.
More than anything.
Moving fluidly towards her, he kneeled on the edge of the bed and dropped to all fours, stalking up the length of her body until he was hovering just above her hand where it rested across her stomach. Dipping his head, he kept his lips just far enough away from her, the fine hairs on her arm tickling them as he coursed his way up to the start of the wound.
Fluttering his eyes closed he felt dizzy inside as he caught the taste of her skin and his arms trembled as they attempted to support his weight. Caught in the sway of her, he felt like he was falling, so desperate to taste her blood, her skin, the salt of her sweat, that he was lost in her. She surrounded him, her heartbeat, her shallow breathing, and her scent. Brushing his lips against the wound, he frowned in pleasure as the coppery taste filled his mouth, just enough blood for a sweep of tingles to run through him, his arms weakening under the influence of it and his body growing rigid with desire.
Buffy stirred slightly, a weight on the bed causing her to come out of her fitful slumber. Opening her eyes a fraction she swallowed hard as she saw Spike moving towards her, his demonic visage causing her Slayer side to kick in. She was about to kick him away when she noticed the look in his eyes, the intensity of it made her feel like she'd been hit in the stomach and it was heating through with pain, or desire. He looked so enthralled, so fascinated with her arm as he moved slowly up the bed. She watched quietly as he dipped his head, his cool breath causing her skin to turn to goose bumps as he brushed his lips against her. Part of her knew he wouldn't be doing this if he knew she were awake, wouldn't be so gentle with her. She realised it was fear of waking her that made him so tender, some childish nervousness over her discovering she had some kind of power over him, that he couldn't resist the pull of her.
If he knew she was awake, it would be different.
Rough.
Hard.
Brutal.
She felt his tongue sweep softly against the wound on her arm, felt his arms wobble under his weight and saw his brows knit as he exhaled sharply through his nose-a small expression of pleasure that he couldn't stop.
Desire.
Power.
She had it, had it over him. A sway, a thrall. Buffy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
And god did it thrill her.