A Nice Attempt At Making Him Jealous

A/N: Sorry about the delay in this part I've been stuck writing essays for university which are much less enjoyable but unfortunately far more needed. Thank you so, so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter I hope you continue to enjoy this part, please let me know!

It is the silence that first alerts me to the fact that something is wrong. Waking up with a pounding head, aching all over and being unable to move for fear of throwing up is pretty much normal for me but it's usually accompanied by the sound of a stampede of teenage girls running back and forwards in front of my door arguing over whose turn it is to use the shower and then a soft knock on my bedroom door that means Willow is standing outside with a cup of caffeinated goodness to help me kick-start the day. Today, though, I can tell no one is standing outside my door. I try to open my eyes but they feel like they are glued together with sleep so I try to kick my other senses into action and they scream in protest. There is nothing to hear. Not even a bird chirping annoyingly outside to break the, frankly disturbing, silence that surrounds me. As I become slightly more aware of my body I notice it feels like I'm sitting upright which, although not unheard of, is an unusual way for me to sleep. I try to move my arms and at first they feel sluggish and unresponsive but when they finally cooperate I find I can't actually move them because I'm bound by something. Now I'm starting to panic. Before it all just felt a bit weird but waking up in restrains is a bit too kinky even by my standards. It doesn't feel like I've been hit over the head which is always a bonus but something feels definitely off with my entire body.

Finally I manage to force my heavy eyelids open and it takes me a moment to adjust to the dim light and clutter that confronts me. It all looks vaguely familiar, the cramped sofa and table, the collection of beer bottles littered across the floor leading onto a corridor where a dim light illuminates the rest of the apartment. I know that I've been here before but my brain is so swirly I'm finding it hard to make any connections. Plus, I'm more concerned with getting myself free from whatever system of chains are holding me in place before I work out where I'm running from. I struggle against the chains that fall heavily across my arms, legs and twist themselves around the rest of my body but it feels the more I struggle the tighter they pull me in. Something feels wrong here, I feel like normally I would be able to break free from these in a few moments but I feel weak as a kitten like some normal girl being held prisoner and powerless to do anything about it. I feel sick to my stomach at the idea I might not be able to get myself free from this.

"Morning beautiful." I hear a voice whisper in my ear and I jump, I physically jump, when I realise how close someone had got to me without me even being aware of their presence. I spin my head to locate where the noise is coming from and feel dizzy in the process until I fix on his face then everything suddenly becomes clearer. Peter. Memories flash before me of when I was here before and of meeting him last night when this feeling first came over me and of being dragged away in strong arms and everything clicks horribly into place.

"You drugged me!" I spit venomously in his face. I am so angry I want to hurt him in a way I've never wanted to hurt another human before. I want to make him feel the pain and the humiliation that I feel being stuck in a position like this. I've never felt so violated in a way I can't even describe- having all choices, all decisions taken out of my hands and being made to feel ordinary in the worst kind of way. I try to lung at him, throw all my weight forward in an attempt to hit some part of him but instead I only manage to topple the chair over and fall, with it on top of me, onto the hard floor. He laughs loudly as I lie there and wait for him to pick me up.

"Now now young lady that's no way to behave is it?" He gloats as he pulls me upright. "Got to control that temper of yours haven't we? That's the reason I had to do it. You don't understand Anne I never wanted to hurt you, I would never hurt you but I know girls like you need a little persuasion." He grins again and I look away, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react. "Oh come on Anne let's not play this game." He sighs, annoyed as I turn my face to the wall. "I'm sure we can reach some kind of arrangement, I can even call you Buffy if you like?" I let out a gasp involuntarily and I can feel him smile at my reaction.

"How do you know my name?" I ask in a low voice. I try to push down the swell of fear that is rising up my body. I refuse to be reduced to some whimpering little girl by a man that under normal circumstances I could knock out with one punch.

"Oh I know everything about you my little Buffy-Anne." I shudder as he says my name. "I made sure of that. When you left and wouldn't answer me you didn't leave me much choice did you? I had to find you, follow you, learn about you. I had to find out what would make you love me like I love you. You realise that's why you're here? I can help you so much if only you'll do as I ask." I feel my skin creep as he strokes me hair. Slimeball.

"You love me so much that you've decided to chain me up in your apartment?" I laugh at him, trying to regain some of my swagger that's been taken by him. "Well let me tell you something you're not the first guy who's tried this little number on me and as of yet the success rate has been zero. Call me a traditionalist but I'm really more of a chocolates and flowers type of girl."

"You don't mention other men in this house. Ever." His voice is lower, dangerous.

"Oh good y'see I was always wondering if I had "a type" and apparently I do: jealous, slightly psychotic and unable to tell whether they want to kill me or kiss me." I glance up and am pleased to see a look of anger passing over his face. "At least Angel and Spike were good looking." I snarl and then promptly feel a sting across my cheek. He slapped me. He actually just slapped me. I stare at him in shock for a moment. I've been beaten, punched even killed before but I don't think I've ever been slapped by a grown man as if I was some weak woman who needed putting in her place. I look at him and realise he has no fear of me whatsoever and that alarms me.

"YOU DO NOT MENTION OTHER MEN IN THIS HOUSE." He bellows at me and I recoil. "That's better. You'll learn soon enough." He mutters.

"I won't be here long enough to learn. You say you know all about me then you know I'm the Slayer, you expect to be able to keep me here long enough to teach me anything? Don't be so stupid."

"Not feeling quite like yourself today though are you slayer." He hisses the word at me. "I did my research, you see, and I know that you're supergirl or however you want to think of yourself but while I've got you here I can just keep dosing you up. I can keep you so you're asleep or just so you're too disorientated to be able to fight against me. You might be the slayer normally but now you'll find those powers are useless." I gulp. I know from how I am feeling that whatever drugs he's been feeding me were clearly working because I haven't been able to fight him, hardly been able to keep my eyes open and my mind on what he was saying.

"I won't drink it." I state. I'd rather die of thirst than ever drink something I knew would make me feel like this. He laughs again, oh how I hate that laugh.

"You will, eventually. Once you see how pointless it is to fight me you will. Until that moment though I can inject you with it- it will do the same job." I try to swallow the lump that's rising in my throat as I look at his face and confirm that he is completely serious.

"You do that then. You'll never keep me here. I have friends, people waiting out there for me, I'll be missed. You haven't picked up some kid off the streets who can disappear without anyone batting an eyelid. I matter to people." I shout. I realise how self-centred I sound but I don't care any more. I want him to panic, to realise what he's doing and let me go now.

"Maybe once you did but now you've pushed them all away. You're gone all night and barely home during they day, would they even realise you're missing? And when they do would they care? Probably not. They'd probably be relieved more than anything to have you taken off their hands. I've heard them talking Buffy-Anne and they're so tired of you and your broken heart, your wild ways and your disrespect for everything they try to do. Sure, they'll act like they're looking for you but I bet it won't be long before they give up and move on. Nobody wants you anymore, nobody loves you but me."I feel wave after wave of sadness crash into me as I listen to his words and know that there is so much truth behind them. As I try to fight back my tears he leans forward to try to kiss me. I watch him approach as if in slow motion and I do the only thing left in my power to do. I spit in his face.

"Stay away from me." I snap. He grabs my face roughly and I feel his fingernails digging into my cheeks as his lips crash onto mine. Unwanted and repulsive. I try to pull myself backwards to escape him but there is nowhere to go. His lips crush mine, bruise them as his tongue delves into my mouth and I gag. He pulls away looking smug.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of." He whispers. I shudder at the thought. "Now, will you have a little drink?" He moves away and pulls out an amber-coloured liquid. It smells of whisky but I know what it contains.

"Never." I swear to myself. I will never consent to this.

"Have it your way." He shrugs and retrieves a needle from somewhere outside of my vision. I begin to struggle as he comes towards me. I know that it's pointless but I can't give in, I can't let this happen to me. Eventually I feel the dull ache as the needle goes into my arm and the effects are almost instantaneous. The waves of sleep begin to fall upon me and pull me under and I struggle with all my might to resist it, to fight it.

"He will come for me." I whisper to myself as I feel the drugs take me away. The one last hope I didn't even realise I was counting on. The one I thought I'd lost faith in suddenly falls from my lips. "He will come."