My Best Enemy

Chapter 1

"I never thought I would associate with demons, except at the other end of a weapon." Buffy let out a wry chuckle as she shifted in her seat to get more comfortable. She slouched back in the deep padding of the couch, kicking her feet up onto the low coffee table, and resting one hand over her midsection, the other kept the mug near her face. Her hot tea steam warming her face from the brisk late-winter weather seeping indoors.

She continued, "It all started that night I disappeared and ran into my best enemy. I should have realized four years into slaying there are always worst things…"

Lightly panting, Buffy wafted the dust of her latest vampire away from her face after their short chase, followed by an even more short fight. She stood disappointed a moment on the UC Sunnydale campus. She looked to the starry sky and made a request to the universe for the bad guys to try and step up their game. The biggest challenge this one gave her was a good run.

Well, she really was leading the idiot vamp to a more secluded spot to slay. Vampires lately have been a few French fries short of a Happy Meal…

"Slayer!"

Speaking of vampires and their Happy Meals…

Buffy turned around to see Spike leap from the low first-story roof of the campus building to the courtyard. He landed effortlessly like a cat on two legs, and prowled forward much like one too. They began circling each other.

"Vampire." Buffy mocked back. She double checked to make sure no one was within viewing distance.

Spike paused and tilted his head, "come now, we've known each other longer than that to refer to each other by what we are."

"Oh please, I've never heard you call me by my name. Besides, first name basis should be between those that respect each other." Buffy continued their defensive circling, waiting for him to break first and rush in.

"I respect you Slayer." Buffy scoffed at his affronted look. "Your fighting is the best I've had in a long while. You're still alive too."

"Exactly. You respect the Slayer warrior. Not me, Buffy Summers."

"Well, duh." Spike rolled his eyes. Then without further comment he leaped forward with a punch.

Buffy ducked back and continued dodging his multiple swinging punches, her retreating steps keeping him at just enough distance until suddenly his foot planted into her stomach sending her flying back. She rolled several times before stopping on her hands and knees.

Okay, that had hurt.

Before he brought a foot into her ribs, she rolled away several times again, then jumped up to stand against another incoming punch, which she just barely blocked with her forearm. While he was focused with her block, she dropped and swept her leg around and into his kneecap, collapsing him, and gaining the advantage he had since they began.

Spike rolled away from her downward stab with her stake and continued out of her line of attack by jumping and skipping backwards. Pursuing his retreat, Buffy had the advantage now. She wailed on him with multiple flying kicks only seen in kung-Fu movies, though it was something she could do just as well. Spike could barely keep the kicks from landing in his face as he was backing up. He managed to grab one foot and throw her to the side. She twisted with the throw and managed a cartwheel at the same time.

Now in equal fighting stances, they circled each other once again, both panting. Though he looked to be panting from excitement. They leaped towards each other at the same time.

She blocked a punch with her forearm. "Always a pain in the ass Spike."

He parried by sweeping her stabbing arm away. "You're short and full of yourself Slayer."

They traded blows and barbed quips in an intense, but short fight. Right up until Buffy made the mistake of glancing off to the side as she tried a punch. She ended up coming in too fast without a defense ready, and Spike took the opening.

He grabbed her incoming wrist, swinging around to her unprotected back, he looped his other arm around her torso and trapping her staking arm against it. Momentarily stuck, Buffy attempted wriggling out as Spike couldn't help but gloat. She tried head-butting back into his nose, but he jerked his face from the stun blow. Stomping on his feet wasn't working either.

The fight was quicker than Buffy ever had with Spike, and she wondered briefly if she might have jinxed herself from her earlier request. She felt his cool exhale brush across her neck. She tried wriggling again to no avail.

Spike chuckled, "Ohh, that felt good. Keep doing that Slayer." He squeezed around her a little tighter.

Not wanting to get bit, but also not wanting to encourage his piggish behavior, she tried head-butting him again and kicking one heel down where his foot should be. She missed both shots.

She looked up at an approaching figure that Spike seemed to not have noticed, sensing she was about to be saved.

Spike bit hard in into the vein of her neck. Buffy let out a strangled shout that came out more of a gurgle. He tightened his hold on her body while clamping down on her neck. She began feeling him take the first few pulls of blood and felt her heart beating hard in her chest.

She wasn't ready to die.

Then suddenly they both tightened in full-body spasms. The clenching pain holding them both stopped seconds later, and through the aftershocks Buffy watched as four pairs of armored boots surrounded them.

They both had collapsed, and she belatedly realized she had been electroshocked.

Spike had released his hold on her when they dropped, but her neck was still leaking. The tasing and blood loss was making her vision spotty, and from her prone position she saw further in the shadowed distance three more figures hiding behind trees. All three wore ski masks and matching outfits of military camouflage. With a signal from one, they silently retreated into the night without alerting the four armored attackers.

She watched as multiple hands reached down to pick up both of them, and then she faded into unconsciousness.

Spike woke to someone jerking him upright. He blearily looked around and saw he was inside a narrow, bare-metal interior. At the end of his outstretched and limp feet, he saw the Slayer still unconscious. Her neck had a white gauze pad pressed to her neck by one of three fully armored men. With his heightened senses, Spike could tell they were a mix of half-demons. Their armor looked like a modern and streamlined form of ancient Japanese samurai, without the frills. All plaited and folded leather with steel. They were covered head-to-toe-to-fingers in it, so biting was out.

The one who pulled him from unconsciousness was holding him at the shoulders as another sitting next to him was holding something small and squirming. It looked like a green, slug-like shrimp. The man was placing it a little too close to his head for comfort.

Spike tested his arms and felt them bound with metal braces as long as his forearm. The design kept him from twisting out like standard handcuffs, and no matter how flexible he is, he wouldn't be able to thread his legs through to bring them to his front. He still felt weakened from the tasing, so fighting cuffed wasn't going to work either. He looked up again as he sensed the fully armored half-demon with the suspicious thing come closer.

"Hey! What're you gonna do with that?" Spike leaned back from his reach and the wriggling shrimp-bug. "Who are you blokes? I'll bite you through that armor, don't go thinking I can't." He supposed threatening them while his arms were tied securely behind his back was not going to help him at all, but he gets mouthy when feeling threatened.

The man holding his shoulders used one hand to secure his head against his metal chest plate and keep him still. Now Spike was getting very worried as the shrimp bug was placed at his ear. Without hesitation, the thing crawled into his ear canal and its buggy claws pinched in very tender spots.

Very, very tender spots.

The pain brought a screech of surprise from Spike. He thrashed in the hold for a moment before the hands released him. He scrubbed his ear onto his shoulder and felt wetness smearing around the area. Damn thing was likely to cause permanent damage. Before, he was just upset, now he was bloody mad. Moments later, Spike felt the thing settle down and stop scraping somewhere in his noggin.

"What the bloody hell do you want?" Spike spat out as he watched the man who put the thing in his ear do the same to the Slayer while unconscious. Which he felt was unfair. She barely twitched.

"Your questions will be answered when we arrive." One of the armored men said, his voice sounded muffled and metallic through the full-faced helmet.

Minutes later Spike felt what he figured to be their transport truck slow down and stop on some bumpy road.

Picking both him and the Slayer up, the men marched them out the back container door. The movement stirred the Slayer into consciousness, though she looked disoriented. She was being carried by two on each side, the tops of her feet dragging across the dirt ground. A trickle of blood ran down from her ear and into her neck bandage.

Spike used this chance to study his surroundings. It was night, though almost dawn, which Spike had worried about. He remembered fighting the slayer in the early hours of night, so they must have been traveling for at least seven or eight hours, if it was the same day. The small storage truck that transported them was unmarked, so no help there. Surrounding them for fifty or so yards in every direction was flattened dirt yard and high cement wall topped with looped barbed wire. The direction their captors were taking them was a large and tall un-adorned building.

But that wasn't the disturbing part.

The really unnerving thing to Spike was the fact that he saw strategically placed grass, reflection pools off to the side, and minor floral bushes decorating sporadically around the high walls.

But all he smelled was dirt, dirt, and more dirt. With the occasional waft of something more rank coming from the building ahead when the hot, dusty wind blew just right.

Those few decorating plants and pools weren't really there.

So, this place was displaying a pretty illusion. Why? He didn't know. He got the distinct impression this place was a prison with two facades. One for guests, and one for supposedly beings like him and the Slayer. Though he suspected they brought her just out of caution. Certainly not out of altruism due to her injury, because this was a very shady operation.

Their armored captors marched them through the large double-door entrance. Inside opened up into a multiple-storied atrium of questionable cleanliness and disrepair. Each level was only separated from the drop by a seemingly rickety metal railing. The walkways on each level had a few steel doors with a small glass window.

While the outside was covered in an illusion, inside was not.

Distantly, Spike heard a sound repeating itself over and over again. A very familiar word, and repeating like a chanting call. It was dozens of voices chanting his name. Occasionally he could pick out 'Slayer' being chanted too.

So they were being expected. Not good, considering the surroundings. The place was drenched in the smell of numerous demons, most he couldn't identify. There was an electric charge of ozone scent lightly interspersed, possibly from the magic coating this place.

Their four armored escorts stopped them before the entrance to the building's inner sanctum. Standing there waiting were four individuals. Two were matching armored men, and they stood at attention behind two people, a man and a woman in long white doctor coats. What also caught Spikes attention was on the wall behind those four of an inscribed Latin phrase in stone: DURUS AMOR EST TAMEN AMOREM.

Spike snorted in amusement at that, 'Tough love is still love'. Really, what is this place?

The woman in the coat carrying a clipboard addressed Spike in a short businesslike tone, "Welcome to Mosaic. The facility for rehabilitation of demons and metahumans." She looked down at her clipboard for a moment. She had a lovely figure and long, dark curling hair. Certainly her neck looked inviting too.

"And what's your name dollface?" He tried coming off as charming, but his being captured left it sounding acerbic.

The woman gave him a flat look then turned to the two suited guards holding the Slayer up, "Send her to the infirmary for cleanup and observation. And remember to tie her down." The men left dragging the barely conscious Slayer through the inner doors. The woman turned to the other white coat doctor, "Dr. Ray, Please send this vampire to his holding cell until Mah-Zinn is ready for him."

The blond man nodded, "Of course, Head Mistress"

"Hey now! Who are you people? What is going on? I have rights, you know!" Spike dug his heels in, struggling against the two guardsmen grip on his arms. His strength was more than they could handle, but before he could make a run for the exit, the extra two guardsmen at the door jumped his back and slammed him to the ground. When he was picked up and surrounded again he noticed the woman gone, and Dr. Ray waiting patiently, like he expected the freak-out to happen. Spike felt his nose bleeding from the floor impact, and he licked what he could reach.

The obvious disadvantage took the remaining fight out of him, and he let the four guards march him through the doors beyond. They all followed the human, Dr. Ray, without question.

The inner doors opened into a long, bare corridor with metal doors intermittently placed. As they passed each doorway, Spike could see through the few cracked open that they were offices of varying uses.

They approached another set of double doors at the opposite end. The other side was another matching corridor that turned immediately right. On the left was a wide door with a sign labeling it 'Infirmary'. Spike could smell the Slayer had been dragged inside. His guards marched him right, and Spike could see the beginnings of the holding cells. He recognized the smell that was drifting outside when he arrived was from here - the holding cells of all the demons caged. He crinkled his nose in disgust, but otherwise kept to himself.

Also, the chanting of his name was definitely emanating from here. The sounds were mixed in with some demonic shrieks and bellows. He couldn't tell if they were celebrating his arrival or condemning it.

Demons of every shape, size, color, species and gender (or non-gender) were caged two per cell - size permitting. There was no order of their placement to Spike's reasoning.

As he passed one barred cell, a tentacle snaked out and barely wrapped around his bicep, but the suckers on one side kept a good grip on his arm. The creature spoke a hissing gurgle of barely-discernable English with its vowels and consonants pitched all wrong, "Ssspiike. You arrre hereeee. You will paaay."

"Get off me!" He tried pulling away with no luck.

The guard being blocked by the tentacle took out a stun gun and lit up the limb. It let out a pained shriek and flinched, squeezing his arm harder. The shock also traversed across the skin-on-skin contact and caused him to flinch too.

"Ow! Hey!" Vamping out and teeth bared, Spike growled at both his attackers. The tentacle arm released him.

The Guard shoved him forward to continue walking, and Spike stumbled and growled at any and all that dared to face him. Most in the cells turned away and quieted down. The few that continued their haranguing he filed away their faces or…features, for later. Never know when they could stab you in the back later, so it was best to watch them if they did approach.

After a few more turns down equally depressing hallways, they finally stopped him at a barred cell. It was an empty one, which Spike felt relieved about. Almost every cell had two cellmates, but not all of them. Guess they were taking his dangerous persona seriously. Spikes pride was short lived when he reminded himself – again – that he is a captured prisoner.

They locked his cell door behind him and had him turn around near the bars for them to reach his specialty bracelets. They marched off after releasing him. Rubbing his wrists, Spike studied his bare cement and metal room: One bunk bed with spare sheet for each mattress, a floor toilet, and low wall sink that was dripping. No magazines, no TV, not even a random tennis ball to bounce off the walls in tedium.

Spike sighed taking off his jacket and threw it to the bottom bunk bed. "The Slayer probably has better accommodations than this."

Buffy felt herself being laid carefully on her back after being dragged down a strange metallic-scented hallway. Cold, rough hands held her in place as she felt leather straps tying across her body and limbs. She logically knew this was bad, but couldn't summon the energy to move.

"Ah. You're awake Slayer. Good. Stay with me now, I need you to drink something." Said a voice to her left. She couldn't tell if it was male or female, and had a strange tinny quality to it. She heard the person moving objects around, some glass, some plastic. A click from a lid opening, then liquid pouring. Her vision was blurred from watery eyes. She blinked to clear them. Still fuzzy, but now she could make out her surroundings a bit better.

The…armored person was pouring a liquid from an unreadable container into a smaller cup. Armor? Where was she?

Unable to lift her head, she turned it to look around and blinked some more to clear her vision. Her surroundings looked like a somewhat clean efficiency hospital room with everything white and tiled. It also looked old, and the equipment in view made her uneasy. Though, hospitals in general made her uneasy. She tried testing her leather bindings, but to no avail. It didn't help that she had been in two fights, had recently lost blood, and then been knocked out by electrocution. She also hadn't had a meal since lunch or had proper rest.

Also, after checking all her vitals and memory, she realized suddenly she really, really had to use the bathroom.

The armored person walked over to her and lifted her head with one hand while holding the cup to her lips to drink with the other. She complied, not knowing what else to do with her head still being fuzzy and slow. The drink was plain, but gritty. She swallowed as best she could without gagging.

"What…" She coughed to clear her throat, "what was that? Where am I?"

"The doc will be here soon to answer your questions. Rest." The person paused in the middle of turning around. Standing still with only their metal and leather suit profile silhouetted against the sputtering halogen light, he or she continued hesitantly, "Slayer…you will never leave this place. No one leaves this place…" Another pause as the person shifted their balance, "…Also, a word of caution: Most trapped here want to kill you. So…good luck surviving."

And the blurry armored person walked out the only door.

Well…crap.

T.B.C. (within a month or less, hopefully less)

AUTHOR NOTES:

This will be a long story. I have already drafted out 5 arcs with multiple chapters per arc. I already know the ending, and all the important bits in the center. I am just in the process of fleshing out the details and then editing by myself.

Ta!