Author's Note: Thanks so much to those of you who left such lovely reviews, so happy to hear that you're enjoying the story! Another thanks to those of you who followed or made a favorite.

Thanks so much to All4Spike for doing such wonderful beta work.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 14

Buffy woke with a small gasp and quickly wished that she were knocked out again.

Her head was pounding, a deep dull ache that seemed to go right to the center of her brain. She shifted and hissed. The cracked rib was still in evidence. It was sore and throbbing, but it would heal quickly. Thank god for Slayer benefits. The only other injury she could feel was a tingle of pain on her leg and she vaguely remembered being cut on something while being apprehended. Buffy's knees were drawn uncomfortably to her chest, sore and cramped, and her back was against something solid. Cool hard rock, she realized.

Buffy breathed deeply and tried to feel everything out now that she was coming to. She tilted her head as best she could through the pain, and looked up. Her wrists were shackled on either side of her, just above her head. The restraints were cool solid steel and tight enough to prevent escape. I'm going to be limpy Buffy when I get out of this, she thought, and shivered. It was chilly. A glance at her feet showed that her ankles had been given the same chained-up treatment as her wrists and that her shoes were gone. That meant any weapons hidden in her boots were missing too.

"Great," she said. Her voice was hoarse and her mouth dry. Buffy wondered how long she had been out and when she'd last had water.

"Oh, finally you're awake."

No, please not—

"You know, I was starting to think that you'd sleep forever, love."

Buffy groaned out loud. Slowly, she turned her head to the side and there he was.

Spike was chained up too, looking more irritated than anything else, although he had his fair share of injuries. His clothing looked wrinkled and dirty, as if he had been dragged across the cavern floor, and his usually slick hair was a mess of white curls on top of his head. A livid bruise bloomed across his temple and there was dried blood on his mouth as if he'd bitten himself.

"No," Buffy said and hit her head back against the rock.

"I know, right?" Spike said, scoffing. He shouted out into the darkness, "This is bloody unlawful imprisonment, this is!"

"Could you just shut up?" Buffy said sharply as her head swam from his noise, making her nauseous.

Spike clammed up, but still looked like he wanted to talk. Buffy breathed deeply through her nose and tried to formulate a plan. She couldn't see much in the dark, but gathered that they were chained somewhere even deeper in the earth than the underground cavern. They were in some kind of cave that had been carved out of bedrock, and who knew how deep it was? The only visibility came from a few flickering torches, lighting up yellow bones piled in a corner and a cavernous opening that led into darkness so deep it was solid. Buffy doubted her ability to navigate it.

"Where are we?" she asked when her head stopped spinning.

"Dunno, somewhere underground, I expect. To point out the obvious," Spike answered, glancing around as she had. "Thought that hole in the bastard's hideaway let out into the sewers. Apparently, I was bloody well wrong."

Buffy shut her eyes again and breathed slowly through her nose. Okay, not good, Buffy thought.

She glanced to Spike. "Why are you here? I thought you and the mullet squad were bosom buddies?"

"Hello, weren't you watching that fight?" Spike asked. "They don't give two figs about me. Besides, I was only in it for the killing and they won't even let me do that. I mean, is it so much to ask?"

The memory of him pinning her down and about to take a big bite out of her neck made Buffy less willing to talk and more inclined to slug him in his stupid face.

"He needs you," Spike continued with a petulant scoff. "Won't even let me take a crack at it. Nope, he's saving you, Goldilocks. Sally Hansen there's got big plans. Me, he's probably just gonna torture and I'll get to watch as he steals my well-earned glory. Overheard him, you know. Ponce won't kill me until he kills you. Wants me to know he bested me. I pissed him off right good."

"Yeah, you seem to do that to a lot of people," Buffy said, wriggling a little and rattling her chains. They held fast. She took a second long look around the cave. "Do they have a key somewhere?"

"Not that I could see," Spike said. "Only had it when they locked us up, and even that's a bit fuzzy."

"Damn it," Buffy said under her breath. Okay, next time they come for water or food or bathroom breaks—do they have any of that stuff in vamp high security?—I'll get my feet around some minion-neck, snap it like something really snappable, get the key, and be home free.

"Thought I had an agreement with that wanker," Spike said. "Well, I was gonna double cross him, but still, all the prat had to lose was your precious self, nothing personal. Besides, a deal's a deal. Now look at me, stuck down here with you. Oh, happy day."

"Yeah, I'm not liking my own situation here much either," Buffy said, shooting him the angriest glare she could manage.

"You know his name means 'apple'?"

Buffy could only stare at him for that one.

"Or 'evil', maybe," Spike continued with a frown and mumbled, "Latin's not what it used to be." He tried to shrug and it made his chains clink. "Either way he's still a pretentious git."

Buffy ignored him. "I wish I knew what time it is."

"Round sunrise, I expect," Spike said. Buffy blinked in disbelief. "What?"

"You vamps have an internal bio clock?" Buffy said. "Are you guys menopausal?"

Spike snorted at that. "Hardly. I've been awake a good while longer than you and there's nothing better to do than count the hours. But, yeah, we can tell when the sun's coming up. Handy in a pinch."

"Weird," Buffy said under her breath and went back to rattling her chains. Only a minute awake and already she wanted to stake him. From this point on, Buffy wanted no more conversation. She went back to fiddling with her bonds and trying to ignore the vampire chained by her side.

She was trying to ignore him.

Spike stared as the Slayer squirmed and twisted in her bindings. There was nothing better to do. Besides, she made a pretty picture there, back arched and muscles clenched as she wriggled around in her chains, face screwed up in concentration. There was a familiar surge of arousal and his prick stirred to life in his jeans. Spike only stole quick looks at her and tried to urge the unwelcome feelings away. Still, she was a pretty girl; too young, and mouthy to all hell, maybe, but not bad to look at. Not bad at all.

What did it matter that the livid hatred he felt boiling in his belly was just as much in evidence as his cockstand? Who could blame him for getting a little hot and bothered?

No one, that's who, Spike thought, defensive against himself, it's nothing. Almost killed her last night, would have reveled in it too, and would've kept on draining her 'til there wasn't a single rosy drop left. The memory of the salty-sweet taste of her warm skin beneath his tongue as it trailed her throat wasn't doing much for his erection, and the hot surge of loathing he felt each time he looked at her bitchy little face twisted inside him. Spike cleared his throat and tried to get his head to follow suit.

"So, why'd you show?" Spike asked, unable to watch any longer.

Buffy grunted as she tried to rip the chains from the rock. "What?"

"Upstairs, you just burst in there, guns a blazing, like you could take out that many of my kind on your own. Had to know that you couldn't, even with no one there expecting you. So, what was with the guest spot?" Spike asked.

She turned and looked at him as if he were a particularly ugly insect that had started talking. Spike rolled his eyes at that.

"Look, we're stuck here and I don't fancy having another seven hours of listening to the pipes drip far above our heads. Excuse me for trying to make some conversation," he said in defense.

"We're mortal enemies, we don't converse," Buffy said and went back to curling her fingers around the chains and pulling.

"We did just a while ago."

"I was disoriented. Any and all bizzaro actions excused," Buffy said, pulling harder. She let out a soft cry of pain and relaxed against the rock, exhausted.

"Gonna hurt yourself that way," Spike said with a jeering smile.

Buffy glared at him and remained silent.

"Come on Slayer, I'm bloody bored here," Spike said, clicking his heels together and rattling his ankle shackles.

"Not my problem."

Spike sighed in irritation and made another go at his own chains, despite his arms and wrists being sore and raw from pulling at them all night. Not that he'd tell her that, of course. Spike gave a few almighty tugs, growled in frustration, and relaxed back against the cold rock. "It's no good. They're too deep in the foundation."

"Yeah, I figured," Buffy said with a sigh, her eyes glued to the ground.

Spike stayed quiet a moment, staring at the scant firelight dancing on his boots.

"I wanted to kill you," she said. Spike looked up and at her, curious. "That's why I came. I was looking for you, like, in a specific sense."

Spike bit back a sarcastic comment, instead asking, "Whatever did I do to earn such a violent visit?"

Buffy laughed humorlessly. "You're really asking me that? After all you've done since you got here? The guys you killed at the airport were the last straw, I had to—"

"Hold on a tick, I didn't kill any—"

"Does it really matter if it was you?" Buffy asked, staring at him pointedly.

"No," Spike said with a shrug. "Guess not."

"So there's your answer."

Spike absorbed what she was saying, a little pleased that he'd had such a profound and annoying effect on her. Besides that, he'd never seen her look less mighty. The hoarse sound of her voice and how small she looked in those chains didn't quite convey a warrior, rather someone too old for their age. He didn't know how that made him feel.

"You thought it would make it better, didn't you?" Spike said, never taking his eyes off her as she looked at the floor instead of his face. "You thought that everything in your miserable life would be fixed if you took out big bad Spike—and don't even try to deny it, Slayer. You've got one miserable life. Every time I look at you, I can see it. You're hurting."

Buffy clenched her jaw and looked at him again, eyes far too hardened for someone so young, but softer than they had been not a moment ago when she was all piss and vinegar.

"Maybe I did think that," she conceded. She glanced up to her wrists and back to him. Her face was still unreadable and cold. "I guess it didn't work."

Something in her voice was younger than he'd ever heard it.

She turned her face away from him, eyes locked on her little bare feet.

Spike didn't say anything; he was a bit caught up in it all. Chained to a wall and having a heart to heart with the Slayer of all people. There's one thing I never thought I'd do. The sound of approaching footsteps was enough for him to tear his eyes away from her. Spike glared at the approaching lackeys, the very same who had dragged him along to the bleeding airport, as they emerged from the darkness, cackling.

"Check it out, Indigo. Spike in chains," one said, earning a hooting laugh from his companion.

The other vamp clutched his gut, doubled over with mirth. "Oh man, Milo, that's the best!"

"That's all it takes to get you laughing? You two really need to brush up on your humor," Spike said.

"I've got to agree here. I could pun circles around you dorks. Literally. Then again, judging by how you fought upstairs, so could most in the geriatric ward," Buffy said.

Cheeky bint, he thought, unsure of whether it was admiration for that bold streak or disgust at having to hear her ridiculous self prattle on.

"Very funny, Slayer," Indigo said with a grin. "Try laughing when Malum guts you like a fish."

"So it's ceviche Slayer, now is it?" Spike said. "Not sure if I find that so appetizing."

"Shut up, Spike," Milo said. He nodded to his partner and they approached with caution.

They moved closer with purpose, eyeing Buffy warily. Spike could see that one held a bag of blood in his hands, the other a gallon of water.

Spike's face shifted when the bag was pressed to his lips. He tore in through the plastic and he sucked eagerly, unaware of how hungry he had been until that moment. He looked sideways and saw Buffy drinking her water with the same desperation. The frayed collar of Indigo's Winger shirt dipped low as he gave the Slayer her drink. Around his neck was a chain with a key dangling from it beneath the cotton.

Spike saw the Slayer's eyes widen. She jerked forward as if she could grab it with will alone, but the two minions were already pulling back, probably thinking she was just urgently thirsty. If they knew she had seen the key, they didn't act like it.

"Just wait until Malum comes for you two tonight. That's when the fun begins," Indigo said.

Spike chuckled. "His majesty has fun now? Wouldn't have thought that he—"

Before he could finish, Milo kicked him hard in the stomach then threw a punch to his eye. Spike gritted his teeth and strained against his chains in an attempt to get in his own kicks and hits, fangs bared, every instinct urging him to rip the lackeys to shreds.

"Milo, the king said no touching," Indigo said in warning, looking almost terrified at the prospect of being caught in disobedience. Milo stopped mid-punch.

"Malum said we can't touch the girl, he didn't say anything about him," Milo said with a nasty grin that his partner returned.

Spike spat his own blood from his mouth with a broken laugh to hide the pain and gave them a dark look. "You two had better hope that I never get out of this."

They howled with laughter. Spike knew he wasn't much of a threat chained up the way he was, but still, it was a tad humiliating. The Slayer was watching the exchange with that righteous, judgmental expression on her face as if they each disgusted her in their own special way. Spike only glared at the minions harder.

"Just wait. You'll be wishing it was us when Malum's the one doing the punishing," Indigo said, his excitement bubbling through.

"Good evening now, Mr. Spike, Slayer," Milo said, mimicking Malum's accent and bowing in a ridiculous over the top fashion.

He and his companion disappeared into the darkness, laughing wildly.

Spike glared after them, hatred rumbling through him. He felt his eye swelling and blood trickling from his split lip. He sniffed and turned to the Slayer.

"Did you see the key?" Spike whispered.

"Yeah, I did," she replied just as softly.

Spike was quiet a moment. He didn't want to go out that way, some kind of plaything for the world's biggest wanker before watching the sadistic prig steal the one thing he fought for.

Not again, never again.

It didn't matter how different it was. All he could think of was Angelus.

He threw a glance at the Slayer, her eyes far away, obviously trying to come up with some kind of plan. She didn't deserve what Malum had in store for her. Spike had got a fair earful every so often. The details he knew were vague, but still troubling enough to get his blood boiling—metaphorically speaking, of course.

Months of torture, of ritual, of wasting away all that vigor and strength and skill until there was nothing left, just a broken shell to execute. No Slayer should die that way. This girl especially should go out fighting. As much as Spike wanted to snap her skinny little neck, as much as he hated her, he had to admit she deserved better. His next words were like bile in his throat.

"All right, so, white flag here. I'll quit if you'll quit," Spike said quickly under his breath, his eyes never leaving the cavernous exit that the cronies had disappeared into. "You help me, I'll help you. Once we're out, we can try to kill each other again like sane people. Deal?"

"You think you're a people?"

"Deal?"

Buffy was quiet as she stared at him, eyes burning. Spike's nostrils flared. Why couldn't she just give him a straight answer? Instead, she was watching him as if she were trying to see through him, searching for ulterior motives.

Spike could honestly say that at that moment, he didn't have any.

I wanna see that poofter turn to dust, he thought. As much as he could find it inside himself to hate this girl, he could respect her; he hated Malum more.

The Slayer nodded slowly. "Okay. Deal."