***********************************TrAPPeD**********************************
Two: My Kinda Treasure
By Annie
2003-03-11
****************************************************************************
Buffy tore her gaze from his and let her own dart around the room instead.
It was fairly small, not that much bigger than her own basement. All the walls were clean of shelves except for the one facing the stairs, where a large and tattered old bookcase was the tired proprietor of half a dozen paint buckets - all with lids; what looked like boxes - there was three of them - filled with nails and shabby tools; a collection of flasks and bottles - which appeared to be empty from the few feet away that the Slayer was standing, and on the last shelf lay a bundle of blankets.
Wonderful.
They could, should the spirit set in, repaint the room; play handymen; count the blessings of having nothing to drink, or have a sleepover!
Buffy rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Shaking her head as she closed them and crossed her arms over her chest. Okay, she couldn't give up that easily. So she opened her eyes once more and turned around to keep the inspection up.
Oh, yes. Of the dust and the dirt, and the complete lack of any sense that someone might get locked in here that the previous owners certainly must have entertained. There was nothing! Well, except... Buffy walked passed Spike and up to the large white refrigerator box which stood tucked behind the stairs.
Spike watched her, cocking an eyebrow as he caught a whiff of that everlasting optimism assuring her that she WOULD find her way out of whatever jam she was in, that she WOULD get to play miss Fix-It all over again. Seeing where she was headed made him feel a twitch of annoyance at the outlook that she actually might get to do just that.
Getting out his smokes he deprived the box of one with used fingers, put it between his lips and brought his lighter out when a small hand grasped the cigarette and pulled it away, dropped it to the floor and then there was the heel of a boot crashing down on it, twisting and crushing it with no apparent thought as to what he might have to say about that.
His blue eyes flashed with anger as he looked up and met her green ones.
"What the bloody hell?!" he growled and she glared back.
"I don't know how long we're gonna be down here," she stated. "And it's bad enough that you're here, don't bring your excess baggage and blow it in my face. I really hate the smell of it."
Once more cocking an eyebrow he suddenly smirked, then his face slowly grew to stone as he brought out the pack again. She didn't follow his movement, her eyes were still locked in his and her gaze bore a warning that he really shouldn't. But he did. Taking another cigarette out he raised his eyebrows in a challenge as he put it between his lips and flicked the top of the lighter open.
Putting the flame to the tip of the fag he drew a deep breath and the filter slowly burned. Closing the lid of the lighter he put it back in its home and then he smirked again. Removing the cigarette with his left hand he held his breath for a second and then released the smoke to have it swirl around her face.
Her expression was filled with fury, and he reveled in it.
"Don't try and bloody tell me what to do," he now said, voice low and bearing the trace of a purr, which she knew could just like that change into a growl.
"Who's trying?" she retorted, voice as low as his, though hers was carrying a chill that made a small shiver run along his spine. Something he didn't like. "Put it out."
His eyes grew hard once more. He would not.
"Put. That. Out," she repeated, taking a step forward and tilting her head back to be able to meet his gaze with one of her own.
It was as cold as her voice and he knew she meant business. What the sod did he care?
"Or what?" he asked, drawing another taste and then smiling a much too cocky smile as he once again blew the smoke right into her face.
She grabbed him by the leather of the duster, swirled him around and pushed him to back up - which he did in the surprise he felt with this sudden twist. It all happened in the matter of a second, and his eyes grew as he felt the tip of something poking his back when she suddenly stopped with a jerk. Her hands were still gripping him tightly and she tilted her head back once more, this time with a merciless expression in them that he hadn't seen on her in a pretty long time.
"Or I'll shove you backwards and have this place all for myself," she now answered him, underlining it by pushing him just a little tighter against whatever it was that was sticking out of the wall behind him. "From dust...to dust," she added meaningfully and he felt the rage build inside of him.
This tiny little girl. This puny little confused and whiny little teenage girl could actually come this close to defeating him. He moved in the next instant, twirled her around and then he grabbed her as the pain shot through his head. His game face was on and he noticed with satisfaction that her eyes grew just a bit rounder.
"The same goes for you," he hissed. "Never forget that," he added, pushing her away from him before he flicked the cigarette to the floor and crushed it, with his own heel this time, as he changed into human appearance once more.
Her heart was racing. Damn it, she knew he must hear it. Taking a breath she gained some control over her tangled up nerves and put on an indifferent expression as they eyed each other in resentment-filled silence for a few moments.
"This is just SO not happening," she finally grumbled.
"Well, if you're dreaming and I'm bloody stuck in it you'd better wake up," he replied, but she ignored him as she walked back up to the refrigerator box.
"It's locked," she mumbled to herself, as she had grabbed the handle and tried to pull the top open. "Why would anyone lock something like this?"
"Maybe they keep their valuables in there," Spike suggested right behind her and she kept from jerking with surprise before looking over her shoulder at him. "Talk about frozen assets," he then added with a sudden smirk.
She merely gave him a look and then turned her head back to the problem at hand.
"If there's food in here...why would they lock it?" she asked herself, hoping that Spike got the fact that she was in no way speaking to him.
"Food?" Spike wondered, his eyes getting a sudden glint in them and then he grabbed the handle with both hands. "C'mon, love," he now said, nodding to her hands and then to the handle.
She hesitated, then obliged and put her hands by his. Their combined strength saw the lock break and the low click from it, as well as the top of the box flying open, had Buffy almost smile with relief. But only almost and she took her hands away immediately, stroking them against the legs of her pants absentmindedly as she leaned forward and looked into the stomach of the box.
"Blood!" Spike exclaimed cheerfully, reaching down a hand and grabbing one of the bags. "Now, this is my kinda treasure."
Buffy narrowed her eyes at the sight of the contents. Then she blinked and began to once more look around the room, slowly. Taking a step around the vampire she walked up to the wall against which the box was standing; the stairs stretching over her head. She placed a hand against the wall and let it slide along it until she felt a small draft.
Smiling a little she pushed on the spot where her hand was resting and there was a click as the lock-mechanism on the door was put out of use and the wall slid to her left, opening up to show a smaller compartment behind it; not bigger than a fairly large closet.
"This IS a nest," she mused, looking at the worn out mattresses covering most of the floor, the blankets tossed ontop of them and the old bags of blood in the middle of it. "They must've cast a spell to keep visitors from leaving... Hoping to have themselves a snack in the process."
"Clever," Spike stated, licking his lips clean from the red liquid he had just devoured and throwing the empty bag into the gape of the box before shutting the lid tightly.
Buffy turned to him, shrugging.
"Not very clever," she disagreed. "'Cause now they get to try and make a snack outta me."
"Right," he said with a tilt of the head. "And you're invincible."
She smiled sweetly.
"Do you think a group of fledglings can kill me, when YOU can't?" she asked and he gave her a good glare at that.
"I can too," he muttered, having a look around the room so that he wouldn't have to look at her anymore.
"Really, William?" she asked and he clenched his jaws together at the mocking use of his human name, as well as all the memories that came with it. "And how were you planning on doing it with a dog-collar around your neck?"
He turned back to her, took a step toward her and she took one back at the murderous look on his face, his game face once again sliding into position and the yellow eyes of the demon met her green.
"You just wait, Summers," he said. "Be patient. Someday when you least expect it... BAM!"
She did jump at that last word, and it got her so annoyed with herself that she wanted to rewind time. The look of malignance on his face grew raked with satisfaction and the game face retracted again. A smirk on his lips as he raised his eyebrows.
"I think you're more scared of me than you'd like to admit, pet," he stated, self-assured.
"And you of me," she shot back, ice in every word before she turned from him and walked into the small space where the vampires had so obviously resided for quite some time.
He stared after her.
He was NOT scared of HER!
"I'm not bloody scared of YOU!" he called after her.
"Do you mind?" she asked, her voice muffled from being in another room as well as having her back to him. "I'm trying to find my way out of here."
He stalked up to the door, leaning against the doorframe with both arms put up against either side of it and observing her back intently for a few seconds before he said:
"Don't project your own buggering fears on me, SLAYER."
She swirled around, her face a scowl of sudden impatience as she walked up to him as quickly as she could over the soft mattresses under her feet.
"This has been coming for a long time, Spike," she said, stopping right before him and looking up at him as she continued: "You and me. An eye for an eye. To the death. Right here, right now. I'll show you who's projecting what onto whom."
He cocked an eyebrow. Staring into her face flushed with the adrenaline pumping through her now - he could smell it on her - and her eyes swirling with force of life and determination. That small twirl he had felt earlier in his stomach region made itself known again. A small breeze of something new inside of him and he frowned at it; he couldn't make it out.
The subtle confusion in his eyes threw her slightly off track and she blinked. Her gaze still not leaving his, though she was growing wondering as to what he thought he was doing. Why was he staring at her?
"What do you mean 'an eye for an eye'?" he finally asked, the confusion disappearing and she drew a small breath in resignation.
"Do you want a manual, or are you prepared to just admit that it's true?" she asked back and he raised both eyebrows now.
"What? That I'm actually afraid of some college-degree-searching, all-good- and-clean little GIRL?!" he almost laughed, shaking his head and turning from her. "You should never underestimate your enemy," he added as he walked back into the basement.
She observed his back and then she said:
"Exactly," before running up and knocking him, by means of throwing herself at him, to the ground.
He moved quickly onto his back and was able to meet the foot she kicked out - her still lying down as well - with his hand before grabbing her with his left hand under her thigh and his right still locked, in the manner in which it had averted her blow, around her ankle before he spun her away from him. Flopping her over she landed on her stomach with a huff. He got to his feet in the next instant and she let out a pained "ah" as he grabbed her arms and pulled them up behind her.
"Now, are YOU willing to admit that I scare the hell outta you, love?"
"Is that what you wanna hear?" she asked, straining herself to take the pain. "Is that what really gets you going? Being the Big Bad? Do you even realize how pathetic that is?" The heat in her joints increased as his grip grew tighter. "I'm not scared of you," she stated. "I pity you."
The ache in his head was too great and he let her go with a growl.
She rolled over on her back, prompting herself up on her elbows with a small smile on her lips. The triumph in her eyes got to him in every single possible way and the anger rose in his chest, sending a bitter taste to his mouth.
"What do you mean 'an eye for an eye'?" he now repeated and she raised her eyebrows.
"Actually I should take BOTH your eyes," she replied. "You've killed TWO Slayer's, after all."
He stared down at her and she glared back at him before getting to her feet to face him.
"And I've never been scared," he stated now, his expression grave. "I've never hid."
"So tell me," she said, "why haven't you gotten around to completing the task with me? If you're THAT good, how come I'm still around?"
'When I look at you... all I see is the Slayer.'
He shook Drusilla's voice violently out of his head with the hands of his thoughts.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a bloody cripple," he replied and Buffy smirked. "What's so funny?" he grumbled and her smirk widened.
"You just try and figure that one out yourself," she answered him, turning and walking back into the other room. "It shouldn't take you too long."
He let out a huff of breath, turned as well and walked up to one of the boarded up windows running right below the rather low ceiling and along three of the four walls. Letting the moonlight grace his face he closed his eyes.
He had to get out of there.
He had a funny feeling in the middle of his chest, it scratched its nails against his flesh and it was driving him out of his mind with its elusiveness. Something bad was bound to happen if he didn't get the hell out of there soon.
Yes, he could feel it.
***
Buffy came back out through the doorway ten minutes later. It seemed she had cooled down a bit, though she was still throwing him dark and suspicious glances as she walked up to the stairs. For another two minutes she seemed to be trying to find some way around the spell and when she was reluctant to call it quits he shook his head and took the second cigarette he had lit, in her absence, from his mouth; putting it out by scraping it against the wall.
"It ain't gonna do the trick," he said, coming up to her.
He had to admit, even though they had only spent a very short amount of time apart just now, he felt more in control as well. Of course, he hadn't been losing his control before, just his ability to not act too irrationally. Wait. When the hell was he EVER rational? He wanted the bitch dead, short and simple as that. He had wanted her dead ever since the first time he saw her, and he wanted her just as much dead now.
He just needed to find another approach.
She looked at him. Eyes telling him to shut the hell up, which of course only pushed him to speak. He smirked, then nodded to the stairs.
"You can't break the spell if you don't have the proper words," he stated. "We're not getting outta here on our own. Someone'll have to find us and help us. Preferably Red, but I could go with the poof if he just gets the words right," he added and she just shook her head, walking passed him and into the middle of the room.
"I can't stay here," she said.
"Afraid of confined spaces?" he asked and she turned around, growing agitated with him.
"Do you EVER say anything that has any sort of meaning to it?" she asked grouchily and his smirk broadened.
"I thought it was a good enough question, pet," he answered. "This IS a confined space and you're acting all...jittery."
"I'm not gonna tell YOU!" she stated. "You'll just use it against me someday 'when I least expect it'," she added cheekily and his smirk turned into a smile.
"Ah...didn't think I ever said anything that has any sorta meaning to it," he remarked and she huffed.
"I don't mind confined spaces," she grumbled, turning and walking up to stand below the very window by which he had stood not twenty minutes earlier. Trying to see a piece of the night sky she drew a small breath. "I just hate being locked up like this," she then sighed, turning her head she met his gaze which was glittering with curiosity in a way she had never seen them do before. "And I can't say the company is of my choice either," she muttered, meaning every last word.
She turned from him again and stubbornly picked up the search for a sight of the freedom outside.
"It'll only be a few hours," he said. "Then they'll come. Your chappies, or whatever," he added and she frowned slightly.
"You trying to comfort me?" she asked and his eyes grew.
Had he?
"No!" he replied. "I'm just saying - you know - thank GOD for that. Then I'll be outta this hellhole and the nearness of YOU."
She nodded.
That was better. For a moment there he had really wigged her out. Evil Spike. That was him. Evil Big Bad in search of harm and destruction and death.
But he was right though. Soon the Gang would come. They would, as always, and then she would be free to just have him as far away as possible again. She almost ached for it. Being near him made her feel ill in so many ways it almost spun her head. She couldn't stand him, and to be forced to tolerate him even in the slightest... Had he actually said 'a few hours'? HOURS?!
She jumped up and grabbed the boards covering the window. Fighting to tear them down and not succeeding she finally gave up. A low chuckle behind her made her turn around and face him, her eyes wondering and he smiled again, shaking his head a little before he said:
"Who's sodding pathetic now?"
**************************************************************************** **************************************************************************** ****************************************************************************
You have answered my needs in a satisfactory way and so, my darlings, I humbly oblige you. You want more? I give more.
Special and warm thanks to Heather, Crunch, mulderluva, Emmylou, wolf116 :), VampiresKiss, Merete and skybound. Since you all left such positive reviews and since you all wanted another look-see - here it was.
Hope you're still liking it... Do tell. A.M.L, Annie.
Two: My Kinda Treasure
By Annie
2003-03-11
****************************************************************************
Buffy tore her gaze from his and let her own dart around the room instead.
It was fairly small, not that much bigger than her own basement. All the walls were clean of shelves except for the one facing the stairs, where a large and tattered old bookcase was the tired proprietor of half a dozen paint buckets - all with lids; what looked like boxes - there was three of them - filled with nails and shabby tools; a collection of flasks and bottles - which appeared to be empty from the few feet away that the Slayer was standing, and on the last shelf lay a bundle of blankets.
Wonderful.
They could, should the spirit set in, repaint the room; play handymen; count the blessings of having nothing to drink, or have a sleepover!
Buffy rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Shaking her head as she closed them and crossed her arms over her chest. Okay, she couldn't give up that easily. So she opened her eyes once more and turned around to keep the inspection up.
Oh, yes. Of the dust and the dirt, and the complete lack of any sense that someone might get locked in here that the previous owners certainly must have entertained. There was nothing! Well, except... Buffy walked passed Spike and up to the large white refrigerator box which stood tucked behind the stairs.
Spike watched her, cocking an eyebrow as he caught a whiff of that everlasting optimism assuring her that she WOULD find her way out of whatever jam she was in, that she WOULD get to play miss Fix-It all over again. Seeing where she was headed made him feel a twitch of annoyance at the outlook that she actually might get to do just that.
Getting out his smokes he deprived the box of one with used fingers, put it between his lips and brought his lighter out when a small hand grasped the cigarette and pulled it away, dropped it to the floor and then there was the heel of a boot crashing down on it, twisting and crushing it with no apparent thought as to what he might have to say about that.
His blue eyes flashed with anger as he looked up and met her green ones.
"What the bloody hell?!" he growled and she glared back.
"I don't know how long we're gonna be down here," she stated. "And it's bad enough that you're here, don't bring your excess baggage and blow it in my face. I really hate the smell of it."
Once more cocking an eyebrow he suddenly smirked, then his face slowly grew to stone as he brought out the pack again. She didn't follow his movement, her eyes were still locked in his and her gaze bore a warning that he really shouldn't. But he did. Taking another cigarette out he raised his eyebrows in a challenge as he put it between his lips and flicked the top of the lighter open.
Putting the flame to the tip of the fag he drew a deep breath and the filter slowly burned. Closing the lid of the lighter he put it back in its home and then he smirked again. Removing the cigarette with his left hand he held his breath for a second and then released the smoke to have it swirl around her face.
Her expression was filled with fury, and he reveled in it.
"Don't try and bloody tell me what to do," he now said, voice low and bearing the trace of a purr, which she knew could just like that change into a growl.
"Who's trying?" she retorted, voice as low as his, though hers was carrying a chill that made a small shiver run along his spine. Something he didn't like. "Put it out."
His eyes grew hard once more. He would not.
"Put. That. Out," she repeated, taking a step forward and tilting her head back to be able to meet his gaze with one of her own.
It was as cold as her voice and he knew she meant business. What the sod did he care?
"Or what?" he asked, drawing another taste and then smiling a much too cocky smile as he once again blew the smoke right into her face.
She grabbed him by the leather of the duster, swirled him around and pushed him to back up - which he did in the surprise he felt with this sudden twist. It all happened in the matter of a second, and his eyes grew as he felt the tip of something poking his back when she suddenly stopped with a jerk. Her hands were still gripping him tightly and she tilted her head back once more, this time with a merciless expression in them that he hadn't seen on her in a pretty long time.
"Or I'll shove you backwards and have this place all for myself," she now answered him, underlining it by pushing him just a little tighter against whatever it was that was sticking out of the wall behind him. "From dust...to dust," she added meaningfully and he felt the rage build inside of him.
This tiny little girl. This puny little confused and whiny little teenage girl could actually come this close to defeating him. He moved in the next instant, twirled her around and then he grabbed her as the pain shot through his head. His game face was on and he noticed with satisfaction that her eyes grew just a bit rounder.
"The same goes for you," he hissed. "Never forget that," he added, pushing her away from him before he flicked the cigarette to the floor and crushed it, with his own heel this time, as he changed into human appearance once more.
Her heart was racing. Damn it, she knew he must hear it. Taking a breath she gained some control over her tangled up nerves and put on an indifferent expression as they eyed each other in resentment-filled silence for a few moments.
"This is just SO not happening," she finally grumbled.
"Well, if you're dreaming and I'm bloody stuck in it you'd better wake up," he replied, but she ignored him as she walked back up to the refrigerator box.
"It's locked," she mumbled to herself, as she had grabbed the handle and tried to pull the top open. "Why would anyone lock something like this?"
"Maybe they keep their valuables in there," Spike suggested right behind her and she kept from jerking with surprise before looking over her shoulder at him. "Talk about frozen assets," he then added with a sudden smirk.
She merely gave him a look and then turned her head back to the problem at hand.
"If there's food in here...why would they lock it?" she asked herself, hoping that Spike got the fact that she was in no way speaking to him.
"Food?" Spike wondered, his eyes getting a sudden glint in them and then he grabbed the handle with both hands. "C'mon, love," he now said, nodding to her hands and then to the handle.
She hesitated, then obliged and put her hands by his. Their combined strength saw the lock break and the low click from it, as well as the top of the box flying open, had Buffy almost smile with relief. But only almost and she took her hands away immediately, stroking them against the legs of her pants absentmindedly as she leaned forward and looked into the stomach of the box.
"Blood!" Spike exclaimed cheerfully, reaching down a hand and grabbing one of the bags. "Now, this is my kinda treasure."
Buffy narrowed her eyes at the sight of the contents. Then she blinked and began to once more look around the room, slowly. Taking a step around the vampire she walked up to the wall against which the box was standing; the stairs stretching over her head. She placed a hand against the wall and let it slide along it until she felt a small draft.
Smiling a little she pushed on the spot where her hand was resting and there was a click as the lock-mechanism on the door was put out of use and the wall slid to her left, opening up to show a smaller compartment behind it; not bigger than a fairly large closet.
"This IS a nest," she mused, looking at the worn out mattresses covering most of the floor, the blankets tossed ontop of them and the old bags of blood in the middle of it. "They must've cast a spell to keep visitors from leaving... Hoping to have themselves a snack in the process."
"Clever," Spike stated, licking his lips clean from the red liquid he had just devoured and throwing the empty bag into the gape of the box before shutting the lid tightly.
Buffy turned to him, shrugging.
"Not very clever," she disagreed. "'Cause now they get to try and make a snack outta me."
"Right," he said with a tilt of the head. "And you're invincible."
She smiled sweetly.
"Do you think a group of fledglings can kill me, when YOU can't?" she asked and he gave her a good glare at that.
"I can too," he muttered, having a look around the room so that he wouldn't have to look at her anymore.
"Really, William?" she asked and he clenched his jaws together at the mocking use of his human name, as well as all the memories that came with it. "And how were you planning on doing it with a dog-collar around your neck?"
He turned back to her, took a step toward her and she took one back at the murderous look on his face, his game face once again sliding into position and the yellow eyes of the demon met her green.
"You just wait, Summers," he said. "Be patient. Someday when you least expect it... BAM!"
She did jump at that last word, and it got her so annoyed with herself that she wanted to rewind time. The look of malignance on his face grew raked with satisfaction and the game face retracted again. A smirk on his lips as he raised his eyebrows.
"I think you're more scared of me than you'd like to admit, pet," he stated, self-assured.
"And you of me," she shot back, ice in every word before she turned from him and walked into the small space where the vampires had so obviously resided for quite some time.
He stared after her.
He was NOT scared of HER!
"I'm not bloody scared of YOU!" he called after her.
"Do you mind?" she asked, her voice muffled from being in another room as well as having her back to him. "I'm trying to find my way out of here."
He stalked up to the door, leaning against the doorframe with both arms put up against either side of it and observing her back intently for a few seconds before he said:
"Don't project your own buggering fears on me, SLAYER."
She swirled around, her face a scowl of sudden impatience as she walked up to him as quickly as she could over the soft mattresses under her feet.
"This has been coming for a long time, Spike," she said, stopping right before him and looking up at him as she continued: "You and me. An eye for an eye. To the death. Right here, right now. I'll show you who's projecting what onto whom."
He cocked an eyebrow. Staring into her face flushed with the adrenaline pumping through her now - he could smell it on her - and her eyes swirling with force of life and determination. That small twirl he had felt earlier in his stomach region made itself known again. A small breeze of something new inside of him and he frowned at it; he couldn't make it out.
The subtle confusion in his eyes threw her slightly off track and she blinked. Her gaze still not leaving his, though she was growing wondering as to what he thought he was doing. Why was he staring at her?
"What do you mean 'an eye for an eye'?" he finally asked, the confusion disappearing and she drew a small breath in resignation.
"Do you want a manual, or are you prepared to just admit that it's true?" she asked back and he raised both eyebrows now.
"What? That I'm actually afraid of some college-degree-searching, all-good- and-clean little GIRL?!" he almost laughed, shaking his head and turning from her. "You should never underestimate your enemy," he added as he walked back into the basement.
She observed his back and then she said:
"Exactly," before running up and knocking him, by means of throwing herself at him, to the ground.
He moved quickly onto his back and was able to meet the foot she kicked out - her still lying down as well - with his hand before grabbing her with his left hand under her thigh and his right still locked, in the manner in which it had averted her blow, around her ankle before he spun her away from him. Flopping her over she landed on her stomach with a huff. He got to his feet in the next instant and she let out a pained "ah" as he grabbed her arms and pulled them up behind her.
"Now, are YOU willing to admit that I scare the hell outta you, love?"
"Is that what you wanna hear?" she asked, straining herself to take the pain. "Is that what really gets you going? Being the Big Bad? Do you even realize how pathetic that is?" The heat in her joints increased as his grip grew tighter. "I'm not scared of you," she stated. "I pity you."
The ache in his head was too great and he let her go with a growl.
She rolled over on her back, prompting herself up on her elbows with a small smile on her lips. The triumph in her eyes got to him in every single possible way and the anger rose in his chest, sending a bitter taste to his mouth.
"What do you mean 'an eye for an eye'?" he now repeated and she raised her eyebrows.
"Actually I should take BOTH your eyes," she replied. "You've killed TWO Slayer's, after all."
He stared down at her and she glared back at him before getting to her feet to face him.
"And I've never been scared," he stated now, his expression grave. "I've never hid."
"So tell me," she said, "why haven't you gotten around to completing the task with me? If you're THAT good, how come I'm still around?"
'When I look at you... all I see is the Slayer.'
He shook Drusilla's voice violently out of his head with the hands of his thoughts.
"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a bloody cripple," he replied and Buffy smirked. "What's so funny?" he grumbled and her smirk widened.
"You just try and figure that one out yourself," she answered him, turning and walking back into the other room. "It shouldn't take you too long."
He let out a huff of breath, turned as well and walked up to one of the boarded up windows running right below the rather low ceiling and along three of the four walls. Letting the moonlight grace his face he closed his eyes.
He had to get out of there.
He had a funny feeling in the middle of his chest, it scratched its nails against his flesh and it was driving him out of his mind with its elusiveness. Something bad was bound to happen if he didn't get the hell out of there soon.
Yes, he could feel it.
***
Buffy came back out through the doorway ten minutes later. It seemed she had cooled down a bit, though she was still throwing him dark and suspicious glances as she walked up to the stairs. For another two minutes she seemed to be trying to find some way around the spell and when she was reluctant to call it quits he shook his head and took the second cigarette he had lit, in her absence, from his mouth; putting it out by scraping it against the wall.
"It ain't gonna do the trick," he said, coming up to her.
He had to admit, even though they had only spent a very short amount of time apart just now, he felt more in control as well. Of course, he hadn't been losing his control before, just his ability to not act too irrationally. Wait. When the hell was he EVER rational? He wanted the bitch dead, short and simple as that. He had wanted her dead ever since the first time he saw her, and he wanted her just as much dead now.
He just needed to find another approach.
She looked at him. Eyes telling him to shut the hell up, which of course only pushed him to speak. He smirked, then nodded to the stairs.
"You can't break the spell if you don't have the proper words," he stated. "We're not getting outta here on our own. Someone'll have to find us and help us. Preferably Red, but I could go with the poof if he just gets the words right," he added and she just shook her head, walking passed him and into the middle of the room.
"I can't stay here," she said.
"Afraid of confined spaces?" he asked and she turned around, growing agitated with him.
"Do you EVER say anything that has any sort of meaning to it?" she asked grouchily and his smirk broadened.
"I thought it was a good enough question, pet," he answered. "This IS a confined space and you're acting all...jittery."
"I'm not gonna tell YOU!" she stated. "You'll just use it against me someday 'when I least expect it'," she added cheekily and his smirk turned into a smile.
"Ah...didn't think I ever said anything that has any sorta meaning to it," he remarked and she huffed.
"I don't mind confined spaces," she grumbled, turning and walking up to stand below the very window by which he had stood not twenty minutes earlier. Trying to see a piece of the night sky she drew a small breath. "I just hate being locked up like this," she then sighed, turning her head she met his gaze which was glittering with curiosity in a way she had never seen them do before. "And I can't say the company is of my choice either," she muttered, meaning every last word.
She turned from him again and stubbornly picked up the search for a sight of the freedom outside.
"It'll only be a few hours," he said. "Then they'll come. Your chappies, or whatever," he added and she frowned slightly.
"You trying to comfort me?" she asked and his eyes grew.
Had he?
"No!" he replied. "I'm just saying - you know - thank GOD for that. Then I'll be outta this hellhole and the nearness of YOU."
She nodded.
That was better. For a moment there he had really wigged her out. Evil Spike. That was him. Evil Big Bad in search of harm and destruction and death.
But he was right though. Soon the Gang would come. They would, as always, and then she would be free to just have him as far away as possible again. She almost ached for it. Being near him made her feel ill in so many ways it almost spun her head. She couldn't stand him, and to be forced to tolerate him even in the slightest... Had he actually said 'a few hours'? HOURS?!
She jumped up and grabbed the boards covering the window. Fighting to tear them down and not succeeding she finally gave up. A low chuckle behind her made her turn around and face him, her eyes wondering and he smiled again, shaking his head a little before he said:
"Who's sodding pathetic now?"
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You have answered my needs in a satisfactory way and so, my darlings, I humbly oblige you. You want more? I give more.
Special and warm thanks to Heather, Crunch, mulderluva, Emmylou, wolf116 :), VampiresKiss, Merete and skybound. Since you all left such positive reviews and since you all wanted another look-see - here it was.
Hope you're still liking it... Do tell. A.M.L, Annie.