"Someone's gonna come and save me, you know," Dawn assured her captor
in a shaky voice, noticing with some curiosity that the sun was up and
shining from outside. Hadn't he been asleep before, though? She absently
decided his body-clock was just messed up and continued trying to
intimidate him with threats of her sister. "Theres a whole group of us, and
at least three of them could kick your ass." Gabriel yawned, not having to
act like he was bored. He had held a lot of people hostage in his time, but
none, he didn't think, had been so noisy, irritating or naive as this one.
"Why do y' think I've got you here?" He asked her slowly. Dawn frowned, not
having expected a reply, and was silent for a moment whilst her brain
formulated an idea.
"To drink my blood." She said matter-of-factly and watched in confusion as
he shook his head.
"Do you ever think before you speak?" he said witheringly, but carried on.
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be so, wouldn't you? No, you're what is so
delicately called 'bait'." Dawn's jaw dropped. Bait? Why was she always
bait? She decided that it was high time someone else was bait; someone who
was less...her. "So what does that tell you of my thoughts on your mates
turning up?" he asked, his slow voice deliberately patronising. She hung
her head and looked at the floor.
"You want them to come." She answered in a quiet voice and jumped at the
sudden sound of Gabriel clapping his hands. The noise bounced off the walls
and made Dawn cringe at the contrast between the echos and the silence of
before.
"So it seems you are capable of semi-intelligent thought," he laughed "But
to be precise, I only want one of your mates to show up." Dawn raised her
gaze to look right into his cold eyes.
"Buffy." Gabriel rolled his eyes after she had spoken. He wasn't even going
to bother correcting her. Why these cocky kids felt the need to try and
come up with a theory was beyond him. Bait should just do what it was they
were there to do. Be bait. Without another word, he left her alone to worry
about her sister and wish she could warn her.
Buffy felt a single tear slide down her face, as it had been threatening to do all morning, and quickly brushed it aside. Crying didn't solve anything. Crying didn't save the world, and crying wouldn't bring Dawn back. Being strong would. Where was Xander? It was only after she had hung up on him that she had realised she had no one else to call. Usually, phone calls to rally all the Scoobies together would take about fifteen minutes, give or take, but now it took about two. There was only herself and Xander now. Tara was dead, Giles was in England, Anya was off somewhere making with the Vengence Demon act, and Willow was, well, evil. Willow. The name flashed through Buffy's mind rapidly, and left her reeling. Why hadn't she thought of it before? If Willow really wanted to hurt Buffy then of course she was going to go for her true weakspot : her family. The Slayer put her head in her hands and sat down heavily on the sofa in the living room. She remembered what Willow had tried to do to her little sister on their last encounter and felt physically sick. She had tried to turn Dawn back into whatever the Key originally was. Buffy squeezed her eyes tightly shut and held her breath, willing the pain she felt to disappear. Eventually, she re-opened her eyes and squinted through the early morning light where she could see the paper boy throwing this morning edition of the Sunnydale Weekly haphazardly in the general direction of the houses on his round. The sight looked so normal. Everything about Sunnydale looked normal during the day. That is, of course, unless you were the Slayer and you knew that there was a good chance that the same paper boy knocking over your garden features might die that same night in the arms of a vampire. Buffy glanced at the clock and frowned. It was pretty clear that Xander wasn't going to arrive any time soon, so that left her with one alternative. With an aggravated sigh, Buffy grabbed her jacket and began to make her way to Spike's crypt for the second time that day.
As he slept, a peaceful smile played on Spike's features. He had forgotten just how good a nice nap in a real bed could feel. In Africa, he had been forced to make do with sleeping on the cold stone floor, and during his travels over there, on a wooden box beneath deck of whatever boat he had crept aboard. Now though, he revelled in the feel of the soft materials enveloping him, and didn't even mind that he had neglected to remove his heavy boots before collapsing. Sleep had come almost immediately, a rare occurrence in his life, and now it was going without the smallest hint of a dream, let alone a nightmare. Although, somewhere in his subconscious, he was playing through the most recent events in his life. His rejection at the hands of Buffy; his anger at what he had become after he had attempted to force himself on her; and finally, his tests in Africa which had resulted in him getting his chip removed. God, he would have kissed that demon if he hadn't been so, well, repulsive. When Buffy entered the room where Spike chose to sleep, she raised an eyebrow at his look of serene happiness. What reason did he have to be happy? He shouldn't be happy. "Spike, get up." She said in a loud, dry tone which told her just how weary of life she really was, and make her crave the times with Spike when she had really felt alive. The vampire sprang to life, immediately adopting the defensive position, even though his eyesight was still blurry from sleep. That was why it took about five seconds before he recognised the Slayer and dropped his guard. "Help you?" he spat angrily, a voice in the back of his mind warning him not to blow it. At her questioning glance, he decided to inform her just why he was angry. "Do you have any idea how much sleep I've gotten recently? Not a damned lot, I can tell y'that. And now, when I finally drop off in the comfort of my own bed, you come and wake me up!" He realised he was all set to rant, when he thought over what he had said. "Why have you woken me up?" Buffy sniffed. "It's Dawn."
Despite everything he had been telling himself he was, panic still swept through Spike when Buffy informed him that she thought her sister had been taken. Before, he had been able to blame the chip for everything he felt, saying it was simply 'buggering up' his system; but there was nothing to blame for what he felt now. He was really worried about the little brat. His stomach knotted tighter and tighter as Buffy vented her fears and worries to him concerning Dawn, which brought him back to when the Slayer had just returned from the dead. She had told him everything, shared her secrets and her pain with him when her friends couldn't even get a sentence out of her. Spike continued to feel sick as he heard himself agree to help find her. As soon as Buffy had awkwardly thanked him and left to probably wander the streets in search of her sister, Spike shifted into game face. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he growled angrily to the emptiness around him. "I've got the chip out!" The words sank in fully without a moment's hesitation, and he managed a smirk. "I've got the chip out." he repeated, sounding less annoyed and more cocky now, as if practising how he would say it to the Slayer just before he killed her. "Yes!" Spike yelled, happy now, and feeling more schizophrenic than Drusilla had been. Those were the type of thoughts he needed to be having. Not the love filled ones he had been driving away ever since the demon had gotten the bloody thing out of his head. All he could think of now was how to kill her. Then there appeared a hitch in his plans. That hitch went by the name of Willow. She was going all power-trippy already; couldn't let her kill a Slayer in that state, or she'd turn out as bad as Spike's one and only Childe. Now that guy had been up his own arse. He killed one Slayer in one of those pathetic little duel things he was so obsessed with, and went on this huge ego-trip that never ended. Muppet, his mind decided. No, he'd gotten off track. "I've got the chip out;" he said for the third time, an evil smirk that would have made Angelus in his hey-day proud playing on his lips. "I can do what the hell I please. But if I want to kill Buffy myself, I need to get rid of Willow." The smirk faded. "And I really am talking to myself, aren't I?"
The first time Dawn saw her captor shift into game face, she had been truly surprised to feel shocked. She had seen enough vampire's in their true form to expect not to be shocked anymore, she hadn't even minded when Spike had done it whilst snacking when she'd been hanging out at his crypt, but this guy's face was something else. Along with the usual traits - protuding brow, long fangs, wrinkly in the forehead department - there was something different. Tiny horns sprouted in random places around his scalp, and his eyes took on a distinctly electric blue tint.
"Where the hell is he?!" The vampire (if you could call him that) yelled, pacing around in front of where she was chained up, and seemingly in a world of his own. "I mean, here I am, Gabriel, all the way from bleedin' Ireland, and he doesn't even bother to show up when I kidnap someone he supposedly cares about?!" "Thats a pretty name," Dawn said quietly, hoping to calm him down before he did something he might regret, like, oh she didn't know, rip her limb from limb? He stopped, allowing his face to morph back into it's human mask, and raised an eyebrow, the anger still not completely gone from his intense eyes. "Gabriel," she elaborated. "Its, erm, pretty." He paused a moment before smiling. "Thanks," Gabriel replied in an amused tone, before his demeanor changed for the worst. Whilst he had been in his little world, what had he said? His name, obviously, but he had also revealed he was waiting for a 'he'; and last time he checked, the Slayer wasn't a 'he'. Luckily, the idiot before him looked as though she hadn't caught that little piece of information. "I'm gonna un-chain you so y'can eat." he told her gruffly. "Try anything and I'll rip your heart out." Dawn paled. Like she was going to 'try anything' after seeing what a freak-show this guy was. Nope, she preferred to wait for the cavalry to arrive. Something she was hoping would happen real soon.
Clem peered around the empty level of Spike's spacious crypt, and wondered absently if he ever came up there anymore. He had caught the Slayer upon her departure and assured her that she had his help with whatever she needed before going inside to check up on his old buddy. He had recognised that Spike had been majorly tired and anxious about something on his last visit, and so had retrieved Monty Python's Life Of Brian from his video collection to try and cheer the vampire up, as he remembered him saying it was a favourite film of his. Only now he was here, he was having second thoughts about going down and disturbing him, especially after he heard what he knew was Spike having one of his rants to no-one in particular. He knew from experience that when Spike started ranting to himself, he was either really pissed off, or really upset. Neither was a prospect he favoured encountering. Still, he crept forwards, telling himself that if he was a real friend he would be down there helping him through whatever it was, and cocked his head to one side to hear what was being said. He zoned in perfectly on Spike's voice, thanking his demon ancestors that they left him at least one 'power' in his extraordinary hearing abilities, and blocked everything else out. The single ray of sunlight which peeked through a hold in Spike's door turned to darkness, everything around him disappeared, and even the sound of the wind gently rushing by was muted. "I've got the chip out; I can do what the hell I please." Clem jumped back in surprise, nearly knocking over one of those chairs he had so efficiently blocked from his mind. Spike had the chip out? That was definitely a 'yay' for him, but not so much a 'yay' for anyone else. Don't get him wrong, Clem liked the vampire, but he really hadn't been all too, well, sane in his pre- chip days from what he had heard. "..I need to get rid of Willow," he heard next, having missed the part following Spike's proclamation about his situation. Clem frowned. So he was still doing good? He didn't really think that was the case. "And I really am talking to myself, aren't I?" Clem decided that that would be a good time to make his presence known in case he was caught eaves-dropping and therefore killed. He thundered down the stairs and watched as Spike whirled round, his golden eyes wild. "Look what I've got!" He smiled stupidly, holding out the video and sounding every part the idiot he let himself be considered. The truly intelligent, he had been taught, didn't claim or let on to be so, but simply waited until they were discarded as fools before unleashing their knowledge on the world. He had been taught they were much more dangerous that way.
So here they were. What was left of the infamous Scoobies. A very tired looking Xander, who had arrived half an hour late and had obviously had an unrestful sleep; a vampire who Buffy was supposed to despise, and yet still had a place in her heart; the Slayer herself; and a demon with pink, folded skin who she had only met about three times, but found pleasantly amiable. "We all know whats going on?" Buffy queried in her business tone which meant that now was so definitely not the time for banter or jokes of any kind, pacing before the three seated on the couch. "Erm, I don't," Clem spoke up nervously, holding up a hand as if he were in primary school. "Spike just told me to come along if I wanted to help." The Slayer managed a genuine smile in the demon's direction. He was such a sweet guy; he didn't even know why he was there except that he had a chance at helping someone. If only all the world's men were like that. "My little sister Dawn's been kidnapped." She informed him, her business tone faltering. "Are y' actually sure, there, Slayer?" Spike piped up, standing and lighting a cigarette. "'Cause I seem to recall a few occasions where you'd alerted the troops only to find out the little Nibblet had been stayin' over at one of her friend's." Buffy's face reddended momentarily, but she quickly regained herself. She was in charge here, and she knew she was right. Who was he to question her? The vampire she was growing to love. The Slayer studied his expression and felt her heart flutter. He looked so concentrated, so focused on what she was about to say. No wonder she still wanted to love him. Suddenly, the memories hit her. Memories of him on her in the bathroom... "I'm right and you're wrong, Spike, so keep your mouth closed or I'll kick your ass." She spat, causing everyone to start in suprise. Everyone caught the vampire's tiny grin, but only Clem understood it. That smirk said a lot of things. It was a challenging smile. A knowing smile. One that said 'Bring it on, Buffy; we'll see who wins this time.' And Clem knew that it was only a matter of time before those same lips were home to a different smile. One with the Slayer's blood covering it. That is, of course, unless he could stop it.
Buffy felt a single tear slide down her face, as it had been threatening to do all morning, and quickly brushed it aside. Crying didn't solve anything. Crying didn't save the world, and crying wouldn't bring Dawn back. Being strong would. Where was Xander? It was only after she had hung up on him that she had realised she had no one else to call. Usually, phone calls to rally all the Scoobies together would take about fifteen minutes, give or take, but now it took about two. There was only herself and Xander now. Tara was dead, Giles was in England, Anya was off somewhere making with the Vengence Demon act, and Willow was, well, evil. Willow. The name flashed through Buffy's mind rapidly, and left her reeling. Why hadn't she thought of it before? If Willow really wanted to hurt Buffy then of course she was going to go for her true weakspot : her family. The Slayer put her head in her hands and sat down heavily on the sofa in the living room. She remembered what Willow had tried to do to her little sister on their last encounter and felt physically sick. She had tried to turn Dawn back into whatever the Key originally was. Buffy squeezed her eyes tightly shut and held her breath, willing the pain she felt to disappear. Eventually, she re-opened her eyes and squinted through the early morning light where she could see the paper boy throwing this morning edition of the Sunnydale Weekly haphazardly in the general direction of the houses on his round. The sight looked so normal. Everything about Sunnydale looked normal during the day. That is, of course, unless you were the Slayer and you knew that there was a good chance that the same paper boy knocking over your garden features might die that same night in the arms of a vampire. Buffy glanced at the clock and frowned. It was pretty clear that Xander wasn't going to arrive any time soon, so that left her with one alternative. With an aggravated sigh, Buffy grabbed her jacket and began to make her way to Spike's crypt for the second time that day.
As he slept, a peaceful smile played on Spike's features. He had forgotten just how good a nice nap in a real bed could feel. In Africa, he had been forced to make do with sleeping on the cold stone floor, and during his travels over there, on a wooden box beneath deck of whatever boat he had crept aboard. Now though, he revelled in the feel of the soft materials enveloping him, and didn't even mind that he had neglected to remove his heavy boots before collapsing. Sleep had come almost immediately, a rare occurrence in his life, and now it was going without the smallest hint of a dream, let alone a nightmare. Although, somewhere in his subconscious, he was playing through the most recent events in his life. His rejection at the hands of Buffy; his anger at what he had become after he had attempted to force himself on her; and finally, his tests in Africa which had resulted in him getting his chip removed. God, he would have kissed that demon if he hadn't been so, well, repulsive. When Buffy entered the room where Spike chose to sleep, she raised an eyebrow at his look of serene happiness. What reason did he have to be happy? He shouldn't be happy. "Spike, get up." She said in a loud, dry tone which told her just how weary of life she really was, and make her crave the times with Spike when she had really felt alive. The vampire sprang to life, immediately adopting the defensive position, even though his eyesight was still blurry from sleep. That was why it took about five seconds before he recognised the Slayer and dropped his guard. "Help you?" he spat angrily, a voice in the back of his mind warning him not to blow it. At her questioning glance, he decided to inform her just why he was angry. "Do you have any idea how much sleep I've gotten recently? Not a damned lot, I can tell y'that. And now, when I finally drop off in the comfort of my own bed, you come and wake me up!" He realised he was all set to rant, when he thought over what he had said. "Why have you woken me up?" Buffy sniffed. "It's Dawn."
Despite everything he had been telling himself he was, panic still swept through Spike when Buffy informed him that she thought her sister had been taken. Before, he had been able to blame the chip for everything he felt, saying it was simply 'buggering up' his system; but there was nothing to blame for what he felt now. He was really worried about the little brat. His stomach knotted tighter and tighter as Buffy vented her fears and worries to him concerning Dawn, which brought him back to when the Slayer had just returned from the dead. She had told him everything, shared her secrets and her pain with him when her friends couldn't even get a sentence out of her. Spike continued to feel sick as he heard himself agree to help find her. As soon as Buffy had awkwardly thanked him and left to probably wander the streets in search of her sister, Spike shifted into game face. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he growled angrily to the emptiness around him. "I've got the chip out!" The words sank in fully without a moment's hesitation, and he managed a smirk. "I've got the chip out." he repeated, sounding less annoyed and more cocky now, as if practising how he would say it to the Slayer just before he killed her. "Yes!" Spike yelled, happy now, and feeling more schizophrenic than Drusilla had been. Those were the type of thoughts he needed to be having. Not the love filled ones he had been driving away ever since the demon had gotten the bloody thing out of his head. All he could think of now was how to kill her. Then there appeared a hitch in his plans. That hitch went by the name of Willow. She was going all power-trippy already; couldn't let her kill a Slayer in that state, or she'd turn out as bad as Spike's one and only Childe. Now that guy had been up his own arse. He killed one Slayer in one of those pathetic little duel things he was so obsessed with, and went on this huge ego-trip that never ended. Muppet, his mind decided. No, he'd gotten off track. "I've got the chip out;" he said for the third time, an evil smirk that would have made Angelus in his hey-day proud playing on his lips. "I can do what the hell I please. But if I want to kill Buffy myself, I need to get rid of Willow." The smirk faded. "And I really am talking to myself, aren't I?"
The first time Dawn saw her captor shift into game face, she had been truly surprised to feel shocked. She had seen enough vampire's in their true form to expect not to be shocked anymore, she hadn't even minded when Spike had done it whilst snacking when she'd been hanging out at his crypt, but this guy's face was something else. Along with the usual traits - protuding brow, long fangs, wrinkly in the forehead department - there was something different. Tiny horns sprouted in random places around his scalp, and his eyes took on a distinctly electric blue tint.
"Where the hell is he?!" The vampire (if you could call him that) yelled, pacing around in front of where she was chained up, and seemingly in a world of his own. "I mean, here I am, Gabriel, all the way from bleedin' Ireland, and he doesn't even bother to show up when I kidnap someone he supposedly cares about?!" "Thats a pretty name," Dawn said quietly, hoping to calm him down before he did something he might regret, like, oh she didn't know, rip her limb from limb? He stopped, allowing his face to morph back into it's human mask, and raised an eyebrow, the anger still not completely gone from his intense eyes. "Gabriel," she elaborated. "Its, erm, pretty." He paused a moment before smiling. "Thanks," Gabriel replied in an amused tone, before his demeanor changed for the worst. Whilst he had been in his little world, what had he said? His name, obviously, but he had also revealed he was waiting for a 'he'; and last time he checked, the Slayer wasn't a 'he'. Luckily, the idiot before him looked as though she hadn't caught that little piece of information. "I'm gonna un-chain you so y'can eat." he told her gruffly. "Try anything and I'll rip your heart out." Dawn paled. Like she was going to 'try anything' after seeing what a freak-show this guy was. Nope, she preferred to wait for the cavalry to arrive. Something she was hoping would happen real soon.
Clem peered around the empty level of Spike's spacious crypt, and wondered absently if he ever came up there anymore. He had caught the Slayer upon her departure and assured her that she had his help with whatever she needed before going inside to check up on his old buddy. He had recognised that Spike had been majorly tired and anxious about something on his last visit, and so had retrieved Monty Python's Life Of Brian from his video collection to try and cheer the vampire up, as he remembered him saying it was a favourite film of his. Only now he was here, he was having second thoughts about going down and disturbing him, especially after he heard what he knew was Spike having one of his rants to no-one in particular. He knew from experience that when Spike started ranting to himself, he was either really pissed off, or really upset. Neither was a prospect he favoured encountering. Still, he crept forwards, telling himself that if he was a real friend he would be down there helping him through whatever it was, and cocked his head to one side to hear what was being said. He zoned in perfectly on Spike's voice, thanking his demon ancestors that they left him at least one 'power' in his extraordinary hearing abilities, and blocked everything else out. The single ray of sunlight which peeked through a hold in Spike's door turned to darkness, everything around him disappeared, and even the sound of the wind gently rushing by was muted. "I've got the chip out; I can do what the hell I please." Clem jumped back in surprise, nearly knocking over one of those chairs he had so efficiently blocked from his mind. Spike had the chip out? That was definitely a 'yay' for him, but not so much a 'yay' for anyone else. Don't get him wrong, Clem liked the vampire, but he really hadn't been all too, well, sane in his pre- chip days from what he had heard. "..I need to get rid of Willow," he heard next, having missed the part following Spike's proclamation about his situation. Clem frowned. So he was still doing good? He didn't really think that was the case. "And I really am talking to myself, aren't I?" Clem decided that that would be a good time to make his presence known in case he was caught eaves-dropping and therefore killed. He thundered down the stairs and watched as Spike whirled round, his golden eyes wild. "Look what I've got!" He smiled stupidly, holding out the video and sounding every part the idiot he let himself be considered. The truly intelligent, he had been taught, didn't claim or let on to be so, but simply waited until they were discarded as fools before unleashing their knowledge on the world. He had been taught they were much more dangerous that way.
So here they were. What was left of the infamous Scoobies. A very tired looking Xander, who had arrived half an hour late and had obviously had an unrestful sleep; a vampire who Buffy was supposed to despise, and yet still had a place in her heart; the Slayer herself; and a demon with pink, folded skin who she had only met about three times, but found pleasantly amiable. "We all know whats going on?" Buffy queried in her business tone which meant that now was so definitely not the time for banter or jokes of any kind, pacing before the three seated on the couch. "Erm, I don't," Clem spoke up nervously, holding up a hand as if he were in primary school. "Spike just told me to come along if I wanted to help." The Slayer managed a genuine smile in the demon's direction. He was such a sweet guy; he didn't even know why he was there except that he had a chance at helping someone. If only all the world's men were like that. "My little sister Dawn's been kidnapped." She informed him, her business tone faltering. "Are y' actually sure, there, Slayer?" Spike piped up, standing and lighting a cigarette. "'Cause I seem to recall a few occasions where you'd alerted the troops only to find out the little Nibblet had been stayin' over at one of her friend's." Buffy's face reddended momentarily, but she quickly regained herself. She was in charge here, and she knew she was right. Who was he to question her? The vampire she was growing to love. The Slayer studied his expression and felt her heart flutter. He looked so concentrated, so focused on what she was about to say. No wonder she still wanted to love him. Suddenly, the memories hit her. Memories of him on her in the bathroom... "I'm right and you're wrong, Spike, so keep your mouth closed or I'll kick your ass." She spat, causing everyone to start in suprise. Everyone caught the vampire's tiny grin, but only Clem understood it. That smirk said a lot of things. It was a challenging smile. A knowing smile. One that said 'Bring it on, Buffy; we'll see who wins this time.' And Clem knew that it was only a matter of time before those same lips were home to a different smile. One with the Slayer's blood covering it. That is, of course, unless he could stop it.