Buffy:
The first thing I notice as I regain consciousness is the
pounding pain in my head. It feels like I've been hit by a sledgehammer, which –
considering my life – is an actual possibility. The second thing I notice
disturbs me a little bit more – I can't move my arms and legs. I can still feel
them, so I'm pretty sure they're still there, and I can sort of wiggle
them around a bit, but any big movements are prohibited. As my mind begins to
clear a bit, I start to realise why. I am tied up.
Okay, panicking now. I try desperately to open my eyes
and at least get some idea of my surroundings, but I soon notice a third thing.
In addition to the being knocked unconscious and the being chained to the wall,
I have also been blindfolded. Somehow I'm guessing this isn't just some belated
birthday trick my friends have played upon me. I hear footsteps approaching and
the reality of the situation comes home to me with a chilling shock. I have
been kidnapped and chained up by someone, or something, whose intentions
are likely to be homicidal at best.
The footsteps pause in front of me and I suddenly wonder
why I am still alive. If this thing wants to kill me then why hasn't it just
done so already? Maybe it wants me alive for something…something worse than
death. OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGodohGodohGodohGohohGod…
Rough hands
reach up and yank off my blindfold and I catch the scent of leather, beer and
acrid cigarette smoke. The cloth around my eyes comes off and I blink a couple
of times, adjusting my vision to the dim light. Gradually a face starts to come
into focus. Spike. I breathe a sigh of relief – he's come to rescue me,
everything's going to be okay. All those fantasies of prolonged torture, or
hideous evisceration, or becoming a sacrificial offering in a bid to end the
world, can all be forgotten. I wait for Spike to untie me, words of thanks
already forming on my lips, when his mouth twists upwards into a cruel sneer
and he starts to laugh.
"Evenin' Slayer. Glad to see you're back with us again.
Wouldn't have wanted you to miss out on all the fun."
For a moment I am utterly confused. What's going on?
Why isn't he helping me? Then my memories gradually start to come back. My
heart sinks in pure horror and I feel the blood drain from my face. I lift up
my chin and start to scream…
Spike:
It was ridiculously easy. I had this whole big intricate
plan. How to get her on her own, away from the poof and Captain Cardboard. But
as it turned out, I didn't need any of it. She came to see me. Can you even
believe how perfectly it worked out? I didn't even have to go hunting after the
bloody Slayer – she came to me.
I was at home, in the middle of one of my telly
programmes, when she comes storming in, prancing about, all full of herself. I
nearly gave the game away then, I was laughing so hard, especially when she
actually apologised for nearly staking me last night. I'd never heard
anything so entertaining in my life, stuff 'Passions' – this girl could have a
TV show all of her own. But somehow, I managed to keep a straight face. I acted
all indignant, like I'd only help her out with her stupid Sacred Duty if she
asked nicely enough. And all the time I was thinking about what it would be
like to rip out that sweet, white throat of hers and how I could do it – if I
wanted to – it was just a question of waiting for the right moment. And then it
came…
I plopped back down on the bed, pretending to ignore her,
pretending that she was the last possible thing on my mind, that I couldn't
give a damn about her whole little save the world campaign, which wasn't really
all that hard considering it was true. I opened a can of beer and flicked idly
through the channels on my TV set, waiting for her to take the bait. And like a
good little Slayer, she did.
She sat down next to me, uncomfortable at first, but
becoming less and less bothered by the fact she was in my crypt, perched on the
edge of my bed, as I continued to pay no attention to her whatsoever. I knew
that would get to her – she always has to be in the centre of things, have
someone hanging off her every word. Well, maybe Peaches and Soldier boy are
willing to pander to her little insecurities, but I'm not. I just switched over
to the afternoon movie and continued sipping at my can, until I felt her insistent
tug on my arm.
"Spike! Are you even listening to me? This is important."
"Sure, love, whatever you say." I replied with a private
smile, switching off the TV and reaching into the cooler for another beer.
"Want a drink?"
She crinkled up her nose in that innocent,
little-girl-like way she has. "At five o'clock in the afternoon – I think not."
I shrugged and dropped the can back into its icy home.
"Your loss."
"Spike?" She leaned over towards me. "Are you all right?
You're acting kinda weird."
"You think?" I replied, my whole body tingling with
anticipation – it was nearly time.
"Is this because Angel's here?" She asked, and I suppressed
a snort of laughter.
"You could say that, love. You could say that." I vamped
out, twisting my body around to cover hers in one rapid movement that that took
only a split second to execute. I pinned her to the bed, my hand tangled in her
hair, yanking her head back, my fangs inches above her pale neck. I swear I
nearly lost control right then, I nearly killed her straight away, the rush was
so much – the resurgence of power through my body after being deprived of it
for so long, the look of pure shock on the Slayer's face, the faint aroma of
fear I was beginning to scent upon her. But in the end it was the one blemish
on her neck that stopped me from tearing into her right then and there. His
mark. Angelus' claiming bite.
It is accepted policy in vampire society that when an
elder vampire bites a human – without killing them, of course – then that human
is designated their property. Any younger or inferior vampires touching that
property without its owner's permission are liable to get their heads ripped
off. I saw Angelus' mark then and flashes of the thirty years I spent under his
tutelage came rushing back to me. He was a heartless bastard. Lessons were
reinforced by lashings, or weeks spent chained up without food until the hunger
was so bad I would have chewed off my own foot just to possibly get a single
drop of blood out of it. Suffice it to say, I learnt quickly and made few
mistakes. So, when presented with my Grand-Sire's mark, my vampire instincts
told me to stop right there and then, and I did.
Buffy looked up at me with wide eyes, trying to project a
confidence that it was blatantly obvious she didn't feel. "Spike! What are you
doing? You're hurting me!" At this last statement, her expression changed from
one of surprise to one of horror. "Oh my God, your chip – it's gone."
She started to struggle then, thrashing wildly underneath
me, using all her Slayer strength and desperation to try to punch and kick. But
I had planned my actions too well, I was holding her in exactly the right
position, so that she could struggle all she liked but still not be able to
move any. I remembered all the times within the past year she'd pinned me up
against walls, or chained me up in bathtubs. I recalled the pain and the
humiliation, and it felt so good to have the upper hand again. It's true what
they say – revenge is a dish best served cold.
"Now, now, Slayer." I smirked. "Don't tire yourself out
just yet. I want you to have some energy left for the festivities."
"Get off me!" She started up her attempts to escape
again, elbowing me painfully in the ribs before I managed to grab hold of her
hand and pin it back down against the coverlet.
I twisted her wrist so hard she let out an involuntary
yelp and went limp underneath me. "That's better," I said, watching her warily.
"You don't want to make the homicidal maniac – who's currently got you at his
total mercy – mad now, do you?"
"Screw you," she snapped back and I was laughing again.
As if a few not so impressive swearwords were going to save her now.
I yanked on her hair again and leant down to kiss her
roughly on the lips, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She bit down hard on
it and I pulled away, only to receive a mouthful of blood spat back in my face.
Annoyed I wiped it away. She was really going to pay now. I'd tried to place
nice, to play fair – okay so maybe I wasn't either of those, but at least
before I was going to offer her a chance of a relatively painless death
(dependent on her willingness to have sex with me, obviously), but now the
gloves were off.
"You're going to regret you did that, Slayer." I wrapped my
hand around her throat, gradually increasing pressure until her eyes seemed to
bulge out of their sockets and her face went red. Then I let go, and she began
to breathe again, gasping in deep gulps of air.
"I'm going to move now, Summers." I told her, gazing hard
into her frightened eyes and shifting my position off her legs. "Stay right
where you are and you'll get to live a lot longer. And if you're a really good
girl, then I might even let you stay dead after I kill you."
It was that comment that did it, unfortunately. That was
the one error in my otherwise perfect plan. The idea of being a vampire was
just too much for her to cope with and I'll give the girl her due, she's got
some damn good fight in her. She arched her entire body off the bed, suddenly
and with enough force to throw me off to one side, then she brought her legs
round in a swift kick that impacted hard on my lower back, just where my
kidneys used to function. She took the momentary opportunity my searing pain
provided her with to twist out of my grip, leap off the bed and run across the
room.
Milliseconds later I was up and after her, unwilling to
let such a wonderful chance as this to torture the Slayer – especially this Slayer
– escape me. My crypt is only small and I crossed it in several strides,
reaching her just as she was struggling to open the door. A shaft of sunlight
hit my hand, causing it to smoke but I ignored it and grabbed hold of her top
anyway, pulling her back into the darkness. She lashed out with a few well-timed
blows, one of which I think broke my nose, but I managed to overbalance her and
she crashed down hard against the stone floor, knocking herself out.
After that, I carried her down through the sewer tunnels
to this cave, one I had used before, in my pre-chip, Big Bad days. It still has
the chains on the walls and everything – talk about ideal. There is one
drawback, though – Angelus knows about it. And of course the poof is going to
come running after his little girlfriend. Never mind, he'll arrive just in time
to find her mutilated body.
Now, I clamp my hand over her mouth to stop that infernal
screaming of hers. Nobody will be able to hear her, mind – it's just giving me
a headache.
"Perhaps you're forgetting the situation here, love." I
tell her. "Generally, helpless captives only speak when they're spoken to."
She stops screaming and I remove my hand, pleased, until
she starts up again.
"Help! Help! Please… Angel!"
And now I'm really mad. Like he's going to be able
to save her. I'm the one in charge here. I'm the one with the power. She should
be begging me to help her not him. I grab her throat once more, slamming
her head back against the stone wall. She shuts up immediately, the defiance in
her eyes turning quickly into fear as I slide my spare hand up her top and
squeeze her breast hard, imagining with pleasure the bruises my fingers will be
leaving on her skin.
"You're my prisoner now, Slayer." I hiss at her. "I can do
anything I want to you – and you'll do well to remember that, before you go
yelling for your White Knight to come and rescue you. He's not coming. It's
just you and me from now on – just you and me."
I remove my hand from her throat, replacing it with my
mouth, licking her neck roughly and grazing it with my exposed fangs. Keeping
hold of her breast, I push my other hand between her legs.
"No," she whimpers. "Please, Spike, no…" And it is the
sweetest sound in the world.
Riley:
At first I didn't believe it. I couldn't believe it. I
didn't want to hear about Buffy being in danger like that. I wanted for everything
to be okay. I wanted to believe that she'd breeze in through that door in two
minutes time, apologising for being late and confessing she had to stop off to
get snacks or something. Sometimes I just can't face anymore of all this
supernatural stuff. Sometimes I just wish I could be spending the evening at
the movies with my girlfriend, not helping to save the world.
That's my dream, I suppose. Buffy and I living with
normal lives, just your average young couple in love. But the worried attitudes
of everyone else after that girl Cordelia's vision, soon convinced me that
Buffy I and wouldn't be together at all – ordinary lives or not – unless we
could save her now. Willow explained that Cordelia is sent messages from the
Powers that Be, warning her of people in trouble and yet I still didn't
understand. Who are these 'Powers'? I've always been religious and have
believed in one God in control of everything. How can there be these other
people, beings watching over us as well, sending visions to ex-cheerleaders who
work for vampires? I feel totally out of depth with these people – like none of
their ideals conform to mine.
And then there was the issue of what exactly Cordelia saw,
and her claims that Spike's behaviour is no longer controlled by his chip, and
I couldn't comprehend how that could be possible, either. I've worked with
those microchips extensively and I've never seen a single one fail. They were
tested and tested, until we were convinced of their mechanical perfection. As
long as that chip remains in Spike's head then he will be completely unable to
hurt any other human being, including Buffy. But then that raised another
possibility – that Spike had managed to get the chip removed somehow. However,
it was buried so deep in his skull then there was no possible way anyone could
ever get it out, not without damaging Spike's brain somehow.
It is this worry that I have kept to myself and that
makes me more determined than ever to find Buffy – the chance that the amateur
brain surgery someone has obviously performed on Spike, has left him even more
psychologically damaged and deranged than your usual soulless vampire. In this
case Buffy would be in even more danger. Spike wouldn't be rational or
controlled. He would be totally unstable and likely to kill Buffy at any
minute.
After an initial period of panic when Cordelia first
announced the subject of her vision, a plan to rescue Buffy was soon formed.
Cordelia said she saw Buffy in a cold dark place, somewhere underground and
Angel claimed he knew where this would be. I was reluctant to follow him at
first, to let him take over leadership of the group, so I put up an argument.
It soon became clear, however, that nobody was going to listen to my protests,
they had already all put their faith into Angel as being the only hope for
Buffy's rescue. That made me mad, because how could they possibly trust a
vampire over Buffy's own boyfriend? Surely I have a greater interest in her
welfare than him. But there was nothing I could do except go along with
his plan meekly.
Willow actually went over to Angel and put her hand on
his arm, reassuring him that Buffy would be okay, that he'd manage to get to
her in time and I just watched open mouthed. It was like I didn't belong again,
like everyone had forgotten I even exist. I just felt totally excluded from the
group, something that was pretty alien to me. I'd always been popular in high
school, captain of the football team and that sort of thing. Then when I was in
the army I was always the group leader, in charge of everyone else. And now not
only was I not in control, I was barely even involved. So, I tried to push my
way back in, to get people to listen to me, to help in anyway I could.
I
suggested that I should go and rescue Buffy alone – I could handle Spike, I'd
managed to capture him before, hadn't I? Angel would be needed to stop the
demons' ritual to end the earth. There was a collective silence at this
reminder that there were problems facing us other than Buffy's disappearance.
But Angel refused to let me go alone and we got into a fight about it. He
actually had the nerve to suggest I wouldn't be able to save Buffy on my own. I
would do anything to help her, anything in my power and I don't need some vampire
telling me what I can and cannot do. Eventually, Tara separated us with magic
and it was decided that all the girls and the British guy would go to the old
high school and see what they could do to stop or delay the ritual without
actually tackling the demons head on. Then hopefully Angel and I would return
with Buffy in time to fight the physical battle and everything would work out
all right. And I never for a moment thought that it wouldn't.
Angel:
I wish Riley would stop shining that flashlight in my
face. If it had just been me on my own I could have seen perfectly well in the
dark without it. Then we might even have been able to surprise Spike by our
arrival – as it is he's bound to hear Riley's clumping feet a mile off. I don't
know why I had to bring him, I would have had a much better chance at rescuing
Buffy coming on my own. But he insisted, he wanted to be the hero, to come
rushing in to save her and there was nothing – short of knocking him
unconscious and tying him up (which did cross my mind admittedly) – I could do
to stop him. I keep telling myself that there must be some good in him, that if
Buffy loves him then he must be worthy of it. I can't help letting jealousy and
resentment cloud my perception of him, though. And I suppose the fact that he
hates me unequivocally isn't exactly helping build good relations between us.
I know Riley feels threatened by me. I can sense his
nervousness whenever he's around me, though that could be more due to the fact
that I beat him up the last time we met than any worries he may have about the
stability of his relationship with Buffy. I'd like to say I regret fighting
with Riley that time and I do really – or at least part of me does. I feel
ashamed that I let personal feelings get in the way when I came only to smooth
the way over with Buffy. It was like how she let her animosity towards Faith
control her actions when she came to LA allegedly to help me. Neither of us
seem to behave rationally around the other, which is why it's a good thing that
we're separated now, I guess.
We have so much history, so much pain, love and
heartache, that no meeting between us could ever just be brief and
business-like. We can never be friends. I think Spike told us that once, which
is kind of ironic considering the circumstances now. If Spike has hurt Buffy in
any way then I will stake him. I'll regret having to do it – it's always
difficult having to kill one of your childer – but he's really left me with no
choice. I know this is personal between him and me, between him and Buffy even.
Maybe that's why I don't want Riley to be here – this is family business. Spike
has betrayed his Blood and now he must suffer the consequences. In part the
force that drives me on down these caves is not worry over Buffy, but the
traces of Angelus left in me, the dominant Master vampire coming to discipline
his way-ward grand-childe.
William
knew the rules – he knew not to touch Buffy – and yet he still flaunts them in
my face. The anger and outrage at this burns inside of me. And yet I also feel
a kind of admiration. My soul is weighed down by guilt over the harsh way I
treated Spike when I was Angelus. And the fact that he is taking a stand
against me now, the way in which he is refusing to be cowed by my authority any
longer, almost makes me feel proud of him. All these conflicting emotions may
seem strange, but they're just a side effect of having both a soul and a demon
inside me. My psyche is so complex, even I don't understand it sometimes. There
are some basic feelings, however, that are so obvious and strong that I cannot
help but act upon them. I know I deserve any suffering Spike could possibly
visit upon me, but Buffy does not. I can't let Spike hurt her, and no matter
what lingering affections I may feel for him, he must die for this. Touch the
woman I love and the only punishment is death.
We
are getting closer now, I remember these tunnels and I am beginning to vaguely
feel the presence of both Buffy and Spike. He has her down here, I am sure of it.
I think I catch a faint sound reverberating through the air and I stop dead,
trying to listen. Riley barrels straight into the back of me.
"What
the matter?" He asks.
"Shush,
I'm trying to listen."
He
cocks his head to one side. "I can hear anything."
"Neither
will I be able to if you don't shut up," I growl back at him, trying to hold
perfectly still and let the sound come to me. One advantage of being a vampire
is that you're never distracted by the workings of your own body, you can just
melt into the background and let every tiny detail of the surroundings wash
over you.
The
sound comes again, louder this time, a definite scream coming from ahead of us.
Buffy. Losing all pretence of calm I sprint off in the direction of the noise,
dragging a confused Riley behind me. The screams get louder as we get closer
and I think I make out individual words. Help. No. Riley stops dead a
couple of steps back down the tunnel, leaning against the wall, a haunted look
on his face. I hesitate, twisting around to see what was the matter. If he
isn't up to this, then I don't want him getting in my way.
"What's
wrong now?" I snap in a low urgent voice.
"I
heard it," he replies. "I heard her. He's hurting Buffy isn't he?"
Riley's eyes are wide and frightened and I realise he doesn't want to have to
see it, Buffy injured and bleeding. To him she is perfect, infallible – she is
always the strong one, the one doing the rescuing. The idea that she could be
vulnerable or a victim is just an anathema to him. I grab hold of his arm and
pull him roughly along with me. If he and Buffy are ever going to have a future
together then he's going to have to take her off that pedestal – starting now.
"If he isn't, he will be soon," I hiss. "Now, come on!"
Riley's flashlight has fallen to the ground where it
creates eerie shadows against the stone walls of the tunnel. The light and the
shadows both fade into the distance, however, as I keep running towards the
sound of Buffy's screaming. I keep hold of Riley's arm, guiding him through the
pitch-black darkness, my supernatural senses on full alert. Soon I see a
pinprick of light in the distance and I know we are close, though I cannot hear
Buffy any longer, which is probably a bad sign. I slow my run to a brisk
walking pace and whisper in Riley's ear.
"It's not far now – stay behind me and try to keep as
quiet as you can."
He opens his mouth to say something but I deliberately
ignore him, dropping his arm and continuing ahead of him, keeping my footsteps
light and silent. I even abandon my automatic trait of breathing, so as to make
as little noise as possible. Cordelia calls this going into 'stealth-mode',
something I am well practised at. I just wish Riley were too.
As we near the cave I begin to sense an opening in the
earth, like a weight is being lifted from around me. Fresh air blows against my
face and the claustrophobic feeling from the narrow tunnels diminishes. An idea
forming, I push Riley in front of me. There is no way I could creep up on Spike
with the amount of noise Riley has been making. But maybe I can get Spike to
believe, just for a moment, that Riley is the only one mounting the rescue
operation, then ambush the other vampire just as he is least expecting it. It
is a long shot, but better than just storming in with no plan.
"You go first," I instruct the boy. "Try to help Buffy,
but don't take on Spike – he'll only kill you."
Riley eyes me sceptically. "What are you going to do?"
I reach into my deep jacket pocket for a stake and test its
sharpness with the tip of my finger. "Try to surprise him," I answer, half
listening to the voices coming from the cave. I can hear Spike now, his tone
dangerous and jeering, the words spoken too quietly for me to make out. What
really worries me, however, is the absence of any response from Buffy.
I push Riley out of the shadows in the tunnel and into
the flickering firelight that illuminates the caves entrance. "Go!" I hiss.
He flashes me an uncertain look and then makes up his
mind, puffing up his chest and trying to project a confidence it is obvious he
doesn't feel. He rounds the corner out of my sight and undoubtedly into Spike's
and I crouch down in the shadows to wait, counting to five hundred in my head before
following Riley into the fray.
End of Part Five
To be continued…