A/N: Sorry! *cringe*. Really, I am! I know I promised to keep updates regular but I have been forced to admit that real life is just that tiny bit more important than the Buffyverse, and I've had all my exams, etc…but anyway, here you are, chapter six! Enjoy!
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Oz was listening. He did that a lot, just listening to other people talk, not often feeling the need to volunteer his opinions. When he did speak, it was usually either short, quick-witted or to the point, but most of the time he just listened. Or daydreamed. He had a knack for coming back to earth just at the vital moment to not look stupid.
Unlike some others, he thought, remembering every time he had seen Buffy talking to Angel, and the far-away expression on her face while Angel looked confusedly back at her, inquiring as to whether she was quite alright.
Just at that moment, Oz was listening to Xander and Anya bicker softly opposite him. The reason they were talking softly was because Willow was asleep and leaning on Oz's shoulder, and Buffy, although awake, was gazing so distantly out of the window that it would have seemed rude to disturb her.
He was also listening to their driver, whose name was Ted, whistling an old ditty to himself, sounding not unlike one of the birds twittering brightly as the evening closed in, drawing a violet-navy curtain across the sky from the east. Willow had fallen asleep almost immediately after she and Buffy had told Xander off for jinxing them. Oz smiled fondly down at her, remembering a distant time when he had feared to lose her.
He had missed her so much in the time they had been apart after she had betrayed him with Xander. That had been one of the hardest times he had ever gone through in his life. But he had forgiven the two of them, and they had returned the favour by succeeding in rebuilding his trust in them both.
Lost in memories, Oz gradually realised that the sounds around him had changed. He glanced at Buffy, still staring dazedly out of the window, then at Xander and Anya, who had stopped bickering and were instead leaning against in each other in contented peace.
The driver was no longer whistling, and Willow was silent in sleep. There was a heavy, foreboding sort of silence descending on them, and Oz shifted uncomfortably in his seat, awakening Willow.
"Whassamatter?" She asked groggily, sitting up. "What time is it? Is something wrong?"
"No," Oz replied. "It's nothing,". He couldn't explain it, the odd sort of premonition he had felt. "It hasn't even been half an hour since you fell asleep," he told her, in response to her first question. Willow sat up straighter.
"What's wrong?" She asked him, sensing his unease. Oz had a nose for trouble, seeing as he always tried to avoid it at all costs.
"It's nothing," Oz repeated softly, almost as though he hadn't even heard her.
Xander shot them both a quizzical look.
"What's all the worry about?" He asked good-naturedly. Willow shrugged and Oz didn't reply. Everything seemed fine now. It was just a moment of panic, he reasoned. Still, he couldn't quite shake the troubled feeling that had enveloped him. Almost as though something, or someone, was watching them…
"Don't be ridiculous," He murmured to himself.
Buffy looked up with a start.
"Who's being ridiculous?" She asked.
"No one," Willow smiled, "Except you, dreaming away with the fairies," she teased, the sombre mood lifting. They continued to laugh and joke with each other, completely and blissfully unaware that just five minutes down the road Spike waited leisurely in the road with his sword at his side and his pistol in his hand, his scouts having followed the coach for a mile now.
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"Stand and deliver!"
The shock of it rippled through the whole coach, leaving not one of them untouched. The coach pulled up suddenly with a sharp and shuddering motion, leaving them all suspended in silence, motionless, while they tried to make sense of what was happening.
The voice that had called out was clear and bold, a daring ring to it echoing through the trees surrounding them on either side. Buffy was first to regain her wits. Stunned and uncomprehending, she called out to the driver.
"Ted? What's going on? Is this a joke?" She asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly, but with a steeled edge to it that demanded an answer.
The was a moment's pause, then Ted spoke very softly from his box seat at the front of the carriage.
"N-no miss, it's no joke…" he broke off, swallowing hard. "It…I-it's a highwayman, Miss," he finished. Buffy sat back, bewildered.
"A highwayman?" she said, staring round at the others.
"Yes, a bloody highwayman,". The voice rang out again, much closer this time. "Now that we've got all that cleared up," he continued, brisk and sarcastic, "I want you all to get out of the coach, keeping your hands where I can see them, understand?" the highwayman demanded imperiously.
Buffy swallowed hard. The others were still all looking at her, the only one who had so far recovered her voice. Then Xander spoke up, addressing their assailant.
"What if we refuse? Could you make us all get out? There are plenty of strong young men in here, ready to break your neck!" He raised his voice, trying to deepen it and hoping his tactics of intimidation were working.
Outside, Spike was staring in disbelief at the closed carriage door. Did they think he was stupid? That he would be afraid of any of them, even if he hadn't known there were only five of them and that three were girls.
He shifted his pistol to his other hand, and drew his sword. Motioning Ted down from the box, he pressed the cold steel edge to the driver's neck. Ted swallowed, trying not to move his throat and accidentally kill himself. His face was pale and a cold sweat trailed down his neck.
Spike turned his attention back to the closed coach door.
"You will come out when I count to three," He ordered.
"Oh yeah?" Came Xander's muffled but defiant tones. "Or what?"
"Or," Spike continued pleasantly, "I kill your driver and then count to three again, and if that doesn't work then I will come to get you," He threatened, his voice turning icy.
Ted could not bear it.
"Please, for God's sake he's got his sword at my neck!" he yelled, almost sobbing.
"Ok, ok!" Came hasty tones from inside. "We'll come out,".
"I should bloody well hope so," Spike muttered to himself. Then aloud, he began counting. "One. Two. THREE!"
On three the door opened, and keeping their hands carefully in full view, each pf the five passengers climbed carefully out and found themselves face to face with Spike's pistol. He stood facing Ted, the sword still at the driver's neck, pointing his gun lazily at the five standing with their hands up. Then with a flick of his wrist he pushed Ted to stand with the others, and as the driver stumbled Oz and Xander both stepped forward to catch him.
Spike turned to face them for the first time.
Buffy was unable to speak. The man standing before her inspired a fear inside her she did not think she had ever felt before. His languid, lean frame, the ease with which he handled murderous weapons and the splendid black horse standing further back on the road all seemed to scream warnings to her to stay away. However, the other thoughts were stealing unbidden into her mind. He was really rather attractive, she mused, amazed at herself. No, scratch that, he was gorgeous.
Not that that made the slightest bit of difference to me, she scolded herself.
His startlingly blue eyes met hers for a long moment, and she gazed defiantly back at him, refusing to look away first. A slow smile spread across his face, but Buffy refused to be intimidated.
Next to her, she felt Willow trembling and she could hear Xander breathing more heavily than usual. Buffy realised it was up to her.
"What do you want from us?" She asked, determined to keep her voice clear and calm.
In response, the highwayman grinned at her, cocking his head to one side.
"I would have thought that was obvious," He said, gesturing to the purse hanging at Oz's hip. Buffy felt a blush spread slowly across her cheeks. She paused a moment, then spoke up again.
"Who are you?" She tried to keep her tone superior and unafraid, but this time she could not quite disguise the tremor in it. After all, he was outnumbered, but he probably had a gang hiding somewhere in the nearby trees, and he was armed.
The highwayman kept his pistol trained on her lazily, even as he rested the point of his sword on the ground and leant on it conversationally.
"William the Bloody at your service," He said, nodding his head courteously to them. "Or Spike, as I'm more commonly known."
There was a moments silence, broken only by a petrified whimper from Ted, whilst they took this in.
"So you do exist then," Anya volunteered weakly.
Spike laughed. It was a surprisingly rich, warm sound, Buffy reflected fleetingly.
"Yes, I exist," Spike said, still smiling. "The question is, for how much longer will you?"
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