Disclaimers: Snicker . . . uh, yeah, I own Buffy . . . sure. No, wait, it
was a lie! Please don't sue me!
Feedback: Glad that I wasn't the only one that didn't understand the flame. Oh, and thanks for the wonderful comments.
Author's Note: To help make up for my laziness, I wrote this chapter really quickly and posted it immediately. I guess I'm in one of those . . . inspired moods. Thank you, creative muse! Anyways, there is probably going to be one more chapter and an epilogue, and then the story's finished!!! Gasp! Most likely I'll end up writing a sequel, as the end is kinda a cliffhanger . . . don't wanna give too much away, and I like the direction I'm taking it. Don't know what to write in a poss. sequel, but I'm gonna try to think of something! Anyhoo, enjoy.
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She ran to the business district portion of Sunnydale, hurrying as quickly as Slayer-ly possible. Buffy wasn't sure at first if she could remember the directions to the Factory, but she found her feet seemed to be carrying her of their own accord, her worry for Spike making her faster than usual and blocking out all other thoughts. All she could think of was: 'I hope he's alright', and 'I'm going to kill him if this is a joke.' The sinking feeling in her chest told her that this was no harmless prank . . . and so much had transpired between the two in the past month that Buffy was sure he wouldn't do something stupid like that anymore. Not to her, anyway.
The large, decrepit brick building loomed in the distance, and Buffy sped up. She stopped right in front of it, however, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she sensed someone's presence, and Buffy's hand went into her jacket pocket, clutching a stake defensively.
'Vampires,' she thought, her ears perking up to capture any sound her opponents might make, 'more than one . . . more than five . . . God, how many are there?' There was no doubt in Buffy's mind that someone had been expecting her . . . and that she had fallen into their trap. 'And I called Spike stupid for following a stranger in an alley,' she mused, 'This is almost as bad.'
To her right, a pebble scattered along the pavement surrounding the factory, and Buffy swerved to catch sight of whomever had kicked the stone. A sudden movement behind her startled the Slayer, and she turned to see two vampires rushing at her. 'A distraction . . . they were trying to call my attention away from them.' Grabbing one approaching vamp by the arm, she flipped him onto the ground and plunged the stake in his heart quickly. She turned to face the other vampire, but he took her by surprise by landing a punch square in her jaw and sending her sprawling. She rolled across the cement, softening the blow, and noticed a few of the stakes go flying from her jacket and onto the street. 'Shit!'
Getting to her feet quickly, Buffy pulled the vampire close to her and gave him a sharp uppercut, and then kneed him in the groin, causing him to double over in pain. Kicking the prone vamp in the back, she waited for him to fall to the pavement before flipping him over and staking him. 'Two down . . . some to go,' she thought, standing up straight and glancing around the street quickly. Her heart leapt to her throat as she noticed a group of vampires approaching her. They had been crouching in the shadows, watching her fight their companions, waiting for her to finish. She counted up the number in her head quickly, estimating her chance of winning. '
Thirteen,' she thought warily, 'I'm up against thirteen vampires . . . not the best odds in the world . . .' She was only thankful that they didn't seem to be exceptionally *powerful* vampires . . . minions, if her guess was right.
Reaching into her coat and retreiving the crossbow hidden their, Buffy loaded it, turning to face her opponents.
'This should be interesting . . .'
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Spike sat and watched as Drusilla stroked the doll's hair with a brush, gazing at it lovingly as a mother would a child. He was thankful that she had decided to take a break from the torturing, even if the display in front of him was nauseating enough to make him lose his lunch. That was, if he had eaten anything in the last few days.
"Miss Edith," she cooed, "Our knight has been naughty . . . he has been watching her without a peep, and shan't tell us about it. Even if we beg." Her eyes took on a wicked glint, and a devlish smile crossed her face. "But I'm sure I can get it from him, if I make him scream. Would you like to see him scream, Miss Edith?"
Spike swallowed. 'Looks like the intermission is over . . . time for the second act. The masochist's fantasy girl is about to 'play' again,' he thought bitterly, watching her as she set the doll down in front of him and moved to the weapons. 'And how she does love to play . . . I guess I've got Angelus to thank for that.'
Something seemed to strike Drusilla as funny as she started to giggle girlishly, bouncing up and down and clapping softly. He watched as she spun around, clasping a rusty railroad spike in her hands. 'Oh, the irony. Nothing escapes this one.' Spike was so exhausted from Drusilla's efforts that he couldn't even bring himself to care about the pain she would be causing him soon. All he wanted to do was go home.
"William . . . I have a gift for you," she purred, holding the spike out for him to see, "Where do you want it?"
'Lodged in your brain somewhere,' he thought, but kept the comment to himself, choosing to keep his mouth shut.
Drusilla watched him, sticking her lower lip out in a pouty manner. "Poor boy, don't you want to play anymore? Don't you want your princess to be happy?"
Spike closed his mouth, ignoring her, focusing at the roaring fire behind her. He was thankful that at least she had chosen not to set him ablaze yet.
"I'll choose for you, if you wish" she decided, walking over towards him and being careful to sidestep Miss Edith. Drusilla waved the spike over his chest as if she were deciding the best place to cause the most pain. Her hand stopped over his heart, smiling evilly. Spike's heart sunk to the bottom of his chest slowly. While staking him with metal wouldn't kill him, it would hurt like hell for a long time. He almost wished that it *were* wood. Grinning, she was about to plunge it into his chest when a minion opened the door behind them and walked in, clearing his throat.
Swerving around quickly, Drusilla dropped the railroad spike to her side and scowled at the minion that had dared to interrupt her torture session.
"Beg pardon, Sire," he began quietly, casting his gaze to the floor as she wandered over to him. Pulling the minion aside, he whispered to her in hushed tones. However, having vampiric hearing, Spike was able to catch what they were saying.
"Madame, she's taken down ten of the others, already," the worried minion was saying, "If we don't do something soon, she's going to break her way in."
"The Slayer," Drusilla hissed, "will not take my Spike away. I will see to that."
Returning her attentions to the prone vampire chained to the wall, Drusilla walked over to Spike, picking up the doll that had been watching over him. "Spike," she drawled, "Watch Miss Edith for me. I have matters to attend to. The Slayer wants to play."
Setting the doll into his wounded hands, she gave him a no-nonsense pat on the head, then walked out of the room. Spike waited until she was out of sight, then cocked his hand back and aimed for the roaring fire in the middle of the room. Getting just enough leverage, Spike gave a mad giggle as he watched Miss Edith land in the middle of the bonfire, the flames licking at her dress. He knew he would be paying for destroying Dru's doll when she returned from her fight. *If* she returned.
Sighing, Spike laid down on the cement floor, relishing the heat coming from the crackling fire. Letting his weary eyelids dropp, Spike allowed himself to relax, let himself rest. Drusilla had tortured him badly, yes, but had done so in such a way that he wouldn't pass out, giving him no possible refuge from the blinding pain. Closing his burning eyes, he decided that a little nap wouldn't kill him . . . even if Drusilla would when she found he had turned her most prized possession to ash. He figured he deserved a little peace, if only for a moment. His head lolling to the side, Spike smiled slightly and welcomed the darkness that enveloped his senses.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Buffy panted, cradling one wounded arm against her chest, watching her opponent with a carefully trained eye. Sizing him up, she waited until he lunged at her, fangs bared, before she made her move. Throwing him to the ground next to her, she wrestled with him, punching the minion in the face, pleased when she heard the loud cracking of bones. Howling in pain, the vampire cupped his broken nose, failing to notice as Buffy raised the stake and pushed it down into his chest, peircing his heart and turning the vampire into ash.
Getting to her feet quickly, Buffy surveyed the area, watching for more vampires to approach her. When none came, the Slayer listened closely, carefully. 'Did I kill them all?' she wondered. The fight had happened so quickly, time seemed to run together for her, and the number of vampires she had dusted escaped her. Relief swept through her as she headed for the Factory door.
"Bad puppy," a familiar voice called out from behind her.
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, dread filling her system. 'Oh, God,' she thought, 'I hope this isn't who I think it is. Not today, not again.'
"Trying to take him away from me. From us," she hissed out, "Isn't allowed, this lack of judgement is upsetting. You should know he isn't for you to keep."
'Crap.'
"Drusilla," Buffy said, turning around slowly, facing her, "How are things? Still crazy, I see. That's a shame, because you can't see this from a sane point of view. Spike isn't anyone's to keep. Anyone. And my guess is that he didn't come to you of his own accord." She shrugged. "Just a hunch."
"He needs to be taught," Drusilla explained, "William needs to learn a lesson. Learn through blood . . . and pain."
Buffy bristled at those words. "Good thing you've been torturing my boyfriend . . . otherwise I'd feel really bad about this." The Slayer hoisted her leg up and smashed the vampire in the face, sending the girl sprawling to the ground. "Oh, and one more thing? He really hates being called William."
Drusilla rose to her feet quickly, glaring at Buffy and wiping blood from her mouth. Shrieking, she charged at her, punching Buffy in the face, then using her sharp fingernails to cut the Slayer's skin. Buffy reeled from the blow, but managed to deliver an uppercut to the girl's face. Moving to kick the vampire and send her to her knees, Buffy was caught off guard when Drusilla grabbed her foot, twisting it with deadly force. Crying out in pain, Buffy collapsed on the floor, and her opponent was on her in a second, pinning her arms to her sides.
"You should have left, you should have left us," Drusilla said, her voice filled with anger, "You should have let him be happy with me. "Now I must teach you, too."
Buffy struggled underneath the weight of the vampire, but she stopped when she saw the pillar of black smoke rising up from the building in front of her, her eyes widening. Drusilla must have sensed it, too, because she released the Slayer from her grasp, standing and staring at the Factory.
"My Spike," she whispered, before turning and running into the building. Buffy got to her feet, then cried out in pain and landed on the pavement. 'My leg . . . she broke my leg.' Glancing up at the smoking building, tears started forming in the corner of her eyes. 'Oh, God, Spike!' For once, Buffy was hoping that Drusilla would get to him in time.
That was when the building exploded.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
It's a commonly known fact that vampires don't need to breathe to live. When a vampire sleeps, however, it is also common for him to revert to his original human actions, like breathing and snoring. Therefore, it was the tangy smell of smoke that roused Spike from his slumber. Opening his eyes lazily, he surveyed the room around him, sitting up. His eyes widened at the scene in front of him.
'I was right . . . bonfires in the middle of the room? Bad idea.'
The fire, it seemed, had spread, as he believed it might. Flames had moved across the room, catching many of the flammable things on fire, filling the room with a blinding black smoke. Judging from the amount of damage done to the Factory, the fire must have spread quickly, very quickly. Spike struggled at the chains, tugging at the bonds that held him in a desperate escape to flee from the terrible flames. He grinned in victory when he felt one of the rusty chains break from his efforts, snapping under the pressure of his pulls. Now able to move more freely, Spike worked at the other manacle attached to his wrist, picking at the old lock that kept it together. Finally snapping it open with his free hand, he turned to leave. 'I'm going to make it.'
Spike watched in horror as the fire reached the vials on the weapons table. Reached the can of gasoline. Enveloped it with flames.
He wondered if he would die, after all.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
TBC . . .
Feedback: Glad that I wasn't the only one that didn't understand the flame. Oh, and thanks for the wonderful comments.
Author's Note: To help make up for my laziness, I wrote this chapter really quickly and posted it immediately. I guess I'm in one of those . . . inspired moods. Thank you, creative muse! Anyways, there is probably going to be one more chapter and an epilogue, and then the story's finished!!! Gasp! Most likely I'll end up writing a sequel, as the end is kinda a cliffhanger . . . don't wanna give too much away, and I like the direction I'm taking it. Don't know what to write in a poss. sequel, but I'm gonna try to think of something! Anyhoo, enjoy.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
She ran to the business district portion of Sunnydale, hurrying as quickly as Slayer-ly possible. Buffy wasn't sure at first if she could remember the directions to the Factory, but she found her feet seemed to be carrying her of their own accord, her worry for Spike making her faster than usual and blocking out all other thoughts. All she could think of was: 'I hope he's alright', and 'I'm going to kill him if this is a joke.' The sinking feeling in her chest told her that this was no harmless prank . . . and so much had transpired between the two in the past month that Buffy was sure he wouldn't do something stupid like that anymore. Not to her, anyway.
The large, decrepit brick building loomed in the distance, and Buffy sped up. She stopped right in front of it, however, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she sensed someone's presence, and Buffy's hand went into her jacket pocket, clutching a stake defensively.
'Vampires,' she thought, her ears perking up to capture any sound her opponents might make, 'more than one . . . more than five . . . God, how many are there?' There was no doubt in Buffy's mind that someone had been expecting her . . . and that she had fallen into their trap. 'And I called Spike stupid for following a stranger in an alley,' she mused, 'This is almost as bad.'
To her right, a pebble scattered along the pavement surrounding the factory, and Buffy swerved to catch sight of whomever had kicked the stone. A sudden movement behind her startled the Slayer, and she turned to see two vampires rushing at her. 'A distraction . . . they were trying to call my attention away from them.' Grabbing one approaching vamp by the arm, she flipped him onto the ground and plunged the stake in his heart quickly. She turned to face the other vampire, but he took her by surprise by landing a punch square in her jaw and sending her sprawling. She rolled across the cement, softening the blow, and noticed a few of the stakes go flying from her jacket and onto the street. 'Shit!'
Getting to her feet quickly, Buffy pulled the vampire close to her and gave him a sharp uppercut, and then kneed him in the groin, causing him to double over in pain. Kicking the prone vamp in the back, she waited for him to fall to the pavement before flipping him over and staking him. 'Two down . . . some to go,' she thought, standing up straight and glancing around the street quickly. Her heart leapt to her throat as she noticed a group of vampires approaching her. They had been crouching in the shadows, watching her fight their companions, waiting for her to finish. She counted up the number in her head quickly, estimating her chance of winning. '
Thirteen,' she thought warily, 'I'm up against thirteen vampires . . . not the best odds in the world . . .' She was only thankful that they didn't seem to be exceptionally *powerful* vampires . . . minions, if her guess was right.
Reaching into her coat and retreiving the crossbow hidden their, Buffy loaded it, turning to face her opponents.
'This should be interesting . . .'
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Spike sat and watched as Drusilla stroked the doll's hair with a brush, gazing at it lovingly as a mother would a child. He was thankful that she had decided to take a break from the torturing, even if the display in front of him was nauseating enough to make him lose his lunch. That was, if he had eaten anything in the last few days.
"Miss Edith," she cooed, "Our knight has been naughty . . . he has been watching her without a peep, and shan't tell us about it. Even if we beg." Her eyes took on a wicked glint, and a devlish smile crossed her face. "But I'm sure I can get it from him, if I make him scream. Would you like to see him scream, Miss Edith?"
Spike swallowed. 'Looks like the intermission is over . . . time for the second act. The masochist's fantasy girl is about to 'play' again,' he thought bitterly, watching her as she set the doll down in front of him and moved to the weapons. 'And how she does love to play . . . I guess I've got Angelus to thank for that.'
Something seemed to strike Drusilla as funny as she started to giggle girlishly, bouncing up and down and clapping softly. He watched as she spun around, clasping a rusty railroad spike in her hands. 'Oh, the irony. Nothing escapes this one.' Spike was so exhausted from Drusilla's efforts that he couldn't even bring himself to care about the pain she would be causing him soon. All he wanted to do was go home.
"William . . . I have a gift for you," she purred, holding the spike out for him to see, "Where do you want it?"
'Lodged in your brain somewhere,' he thought, but kept the comment to himself, choosing to keep his mouth shut.
Drusilla watched him, sticking her lower lip out in a pouty manner. "Poor boy, don't you want to play anymore? Don't you want your princess to be happy?"
Spike closed his mouth, ignoring her, focusing at the roaring fire behind her. He was thankful that at least she had chosen not to set him ablaze yet.
"I'll choose for you, if you wish" she decided, walking over towards him and being careful to sidestep Miss Edith. Drusilla waved the spike over his chest as if she were deciding the best place to cause the most pain. Her hand stopped over his heart, smiling evilly. Spike's heart sunk to the bottom of his chest slowly. While staking him with metal wouldn't kill him, it would hurt like hell for a long time. He almost wished that it *were* wood. Grinning, she was about to plunge it into his chest when a minion opened the door behind them and walked in, clearing his throat.
Swerving around quickly, Drusilla dropped the railroad spike to her side and scowled at the minion that had dared to interrupt her torture session.
"Beg pardon, Sire," he began quietly, casting his gaze to the floor as she wandered over to him. Pulling the minion aside, he whispered to her in hushed tones. However, having vampiric hearing, Spike was able to catch what they were saying.
"Madame, she's taken down ten of the others, already," the worried minion was saying, "If we don't do something soon, she's going to break her way in."
"The Slayer," Drusilla hissed, "will not take my Spike away. I will see to that."
Returning her attentions to the prone vampire chained to the wall, Drusilla walked over to Spike, picking up the doll that had been watching over him. "Spike," she drawled, "Watch Miss Edith for me. I have matters to attend to. The Slayer wants to play."
Setting the doll into his wounded hands, she gave him a no-nonsense pat on the head, then walked out of the room. Spike waited until she was out of sight, then cocked his hand back and aimed for the roaring fire in the middle of the room. Getting just enough leverage, Spike gave a mad giggle as he watched Miss Edith land in the middle of the bonfire, the flames licking at her dress. He knew he would be paying for destroying Dru's doll when she returned from her fight. *If* she returned.
Sighing, Spike laid down on the cement floor, relishing the heat coming from the crackling fire. Letting his weary eyelids dropp, Spike allowed himself to relax, let himself rest. Drusilla had tortured him badly, yes, but had done so in such a way that he wouldn't pass out, giving him no possible refuge from the blinding pain. Closing his burning eyes, he decided that a little nap wouldn't kill him . . . even if Drusilla would when she found he had turned her most prized possession to ash. He figured he deserved a little peace, if only for a moment. His head lolling to the side, Spike smiled slightly and welcomed the darkness that enveloped his senses.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Buffy panted, cradling one wounded arm against her chest, watching her opponent with a carefully trained eye. Sizing him up, she waited until he lunged at her, fangs bared, before she made her move. Throwing him to the ground next to her, she wrestled with him, punching the minion in the face, pleased when she heard the loud cracking of bones. Howling in pain, the vampire cupped his broken nose, failing to notice as Buffy raised the stake and pushed it down into his chest, peircing his heart and turning the vampire into ash.
Getting to her feet quickly, Buffy surveyed the area, watching for more vampires to approach her. When none came, the Slayer listened closely, carefully. 'Did I kill them all?' she wondered. The fight had happened so quickly, time seemed to run together for her, and the number of vampires she had dusted escaped her. Relief swept through her as she headed for the Factory door.
"Bad puppy," a familiar voice called out from behind her.
Buffy stopped dead in her tracks, dread filling her system. 'Oh, God,' she thought, 'I hope this isn't who I think it is. Not today, not again.'
"Trying to take him away from me. From us," she hissed out, "Isn't allowed, this lack of judgement is upsetting. You should know he isn't for you to keep."
'Crap.'
"Drusilla," Buffy said, turning around slowly, facing her, "How are things? Still crazy, I see. That's a shame, because you can't see this from a sane point of view. Spike isn't anyone's to keep. Anyone. And my guess is that he didn't come to you of his own accord." She shrugged. "Just a hunch."
"He needs to be taught," Drusilla explained, "William needs to learn a lesson. Learn through blood . . . and pain."
Buffy bristled at those words. "Good thing you've been torturing my boyfriend . . . otherwise I'd feel really bad about this." The Slayer hoisted her leg up and smashed the vampire in the face, sending the girl sprawling to the ground. "Oh, and one more thing? He really hates being called William."
Drusilla rose to her feet quickly, glaring at Buffy and wiping blood from her mouth. Shrieking, she charged at her, punching Buffy in the face, then using her sharp fingernails to cut the Slayer's skin. Buffy reeled from the blow, but managed to deliver an uppercut to the girl's face. Moving to kick the vampire and send her to her knees, Buffy was caught off guard when Drusilla grabbed her foot, twisting it with deadly force. Crying out in pain, Buffy collapsed on the floor, and her opponent was on her in a second, pinning her arms to her sides.
"You should have left, you should have left us," Drusilla said, her voice filled with anger, "You should have let him be happy with me. "Now I must teach you, too."
Buffy struggled underneath the weight of the vampire, but she stopped when she saw the pillar of black smoke rising up from the building in front of her, her eyes widening. Drusilla must have sensed it, too, because she released the Slayer from her grasp, standing and staring at the Factory.
"My Spike," she whispered, before turning and running into the building. Buffy got to her feet, then cried out in pain and landed on the pavement. 'My leg . . . she broke my leg.' Glancing up at the smoking building, tears started forming in the corner of her eyes. 'Oh, God, Spike!' For once, Buffy was hoping that Drusilla would get to him in time.
That was when the building exploded.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
It's a commonly known fact that vampires don't need to breathe to live. When a vampire sleeps, however, it is also common for him to revert to his original human actions, like breathing and snoring. Therefore, it was the tangy smell of smoke that roused Spike from his slumber. Opening his eyes lazily, he surveyed the room around him, sitting up. His eyes widened at the scene in front of him.
'I was right . . . bonfires in the middle of the room? Bad idea.'
The fire, it seemed, had spread, as he believed it might. Flames had moved across the room, catching many of the flammable things on fire, filling the room with a blinding black smoke. Judging from the amount of damage done to the Factory, the fire must have spread quickly, very quickly. Spike struggled at the chains, tugging at the bonds that held him in a desperate escape to flee from the terrible flames. He grinned in victory when he felt one of the rusty chains break from his efforts, snapping under the pressure of his pulls. Now able to move more freely, Spike worked at the other manacle attached to his wrist, picking at the old lock that kept it together. Finally snapping it open with his free hand, he turned to leave. 'I'm going to make it.'
Spike watched in horror as the fire reached the vials on the weapons table. Reached the can of gasoline. Enveloped it with flames.
He wondered if he would die, after all.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
TBC . . .