A/N: Thanks to fashiongrrl, you give great ideas. Hehehe, you'll see. Lynsey, Stoic, Leah, Rachel, Falco Conlon, Charmed1, Caitee, QuieraStrawberry, Spuffy, SwordInKaos, InfoGal, BunnyKat, SMG, Tobert Patliria and everyone who leaves me reviews, thanks so much. Oh, and Stoic, don't worry, doesn't Buffy always find a way? Happy reading my little crumpets.
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Chapter 35: A Twist in the Works
Spike resolutely walked up the small pathway leading to Riley's house. It took some doing, but the friends were finally able to track down Riley's home address. It sat outside of Sunnydale, off a small dilapidated road and back into some brush and trees. It gave Willow the creeps.
"This is the perfect setting for some horror movie. I just keep waiting for the axe murderer to jump out from behind a tree and start chasing us," she said.
Anya shuddered. "Thank you for that. Now, when I try and sleep tonight, I'll have scenes from scary movies running through my head."
Willow shrugged. "Sorry."
Spike looked back. "You guys really don't have to come, you know. You can wait back in the car."
Willow shook her head vehemently. "No way! Not me. I'm not going to be the lone female, stupid enough to walk by herself and then sit and wait for certain dismemberment. Nope, no siree. I'll stay here, and if anybody jumps out, I'll push Spike down and run the other way."
Anya nodded her head. "That's a very good plan. I'll walk with you."
Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine then, you two walk together, but be quiet."
The girls nodded and fell in step together. Spike walked out in front of the group, with Xander and Oz behind him. Slightly behind them were Willow and Anya, who were quickly bonding over the shared agony of slasher flicks.
"Hey, man, you got a plan?" Xander asked as they approached the front porch.
The house itself was in need of major repairs. The beige paint was peeling, and several of the boards on the porch were rotted away. Windows were missing shutters, and some panes of glass were broken.
"First of all, I thought I'd knock on the door. Then, when he answered, I thought I knock him the hell out," Spike replied.
"Great idea, Obi-Wan, but what if it isn't him?" Xander asked.
Spike shrugged. "No great loss, I've been looking for an excuse to hit him."
They approached the steps cautiously. Having seen the state of the house, Spike didn't think the stairs were altogether trustworthy. Slowly, he put a foot on one and tested his weight. It held. Inch by inch, Spike, Xander and Oz made their way up the stairs and onto the few remaining boards of the front porch.
Spike looked back and saw that neither Willow nor Anya had attempted to move onto the porch. "Are you girls coming? We don't have all bloody day you know," he called.
They both shook their heads. "No way," said Anya.
"Like hell," echoed Willow.
The guys shared a look that silently communicated their feelings about girls and scary houses.
"I'll stay behind," Oz offered.
Ever so carefully, he made his way back down the rickety stairs and to the girls. Spike and Xander gave a little wave, and then turned to the door.
Spike raised his fist and knocked. Nobody answered. He knocked again. Still no answer.
Spike looked at Xander with a raised eyebrow. Xander shrugged.
"What's going on?" Willow called out.
"No one's answering," Spike replied.
"Now what?" Xander asked quietly.
With a shrug of his shoulders, Spike raised his foot and kicked the front door.
It opened.
"Looks like we've been extended an invitation," Spike said.
Warily, Spike shuffled forward. The boards creaked under his weight, but held. He motioned for Xander to follow him.
"Apparently, we're going inside," Xander yelled.
"Be careful," Oz yelled back.
Taking a deep breath, Xander followed Spike inside.
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Oz, Willow and Anya stood in silence. Anya had her head cocked to the side and looked deep in thought. Oz and Willow watched in fascination as she moved back and forth, muttering to herself.
"Hey Anya, whatcha doing?" Willow asked.
Anya stopped moving. "I'm formulating escape routes in case the "Scream" guys show up."
Oz chuckled. "I really don't think we have to worry about that."
Anya shrugged. "Never hurts to be prepared."
While Anya hatched escape plans, Willow and Oz talked about Riley.
"You think he could've done it?" Willow asked.
Oz gave a minimal shrug. "Dunno."
Willow nodded. "I don't know what to think. I mean, it's Riley! You know the farm boy lunkhead who's hopelessly in love with a dancer. He seemed so harmless."
Oz touched her shoulder in support.
Willow smiled at her quiet boyfriend. Breathing in his scent, she leaned back into his arms. Together, they quietly giggled at Anya's antics, her pacing and murmured comments about wild woodsmen bearing hatchets and guns. A slight breeze blew, and birds were chirping. Willow could almost ignore the fact that they were hunting down a crazed stalker and enjoy the peace of the day. Her eyelids became heavy and began to droop. She let her head loll down to Oz's shoulder.
Oz cradled her in his arms and moved them back until he could prop himself against the porch and support their combined weight. Willow's breathing became even and deep and Oz knew that she had fallen asleep. Sitting back, Oz let his mind wander. Anya saw the sitting couple, and she walked over to sit with them.
"They should be out here by now. What do you think is happening?" she asked worriedly.
"I'm sure they're fine," Oz said in a quiet voice.
"But you don't know for sure," Anya replied.
Oz sighed. "They're big boys, Anya. I think they can handle themselves."
Anya restlessly moved her shoulders. "I know, but I just have these horrible images running through my mind, ya know?"
Oz gave a compassionate smile. "Just relax, Anya. I'm sure they'll be out here any minute."
Anya nodded. They sat in silence, Anya lost in thoughts and Oz listening to Willow breathe. When she began to breathe hard and whimper in her sleep, Oz became alarmed. He tried to wake her, but she wouldn't wake, just like she wouldn't in the hospital.
Anya looked over. "What's wrong with her?"
Oz shook his head, ignoring Anya. "Baby, wake up."
Willow didn't respond. Her whimpers and cries became louder and louder. Oz continued to shake her, but to no avail. Soon, Willow was shouting in her sleep.
"No, no," she cried.
Willow began to thrash. Her hand flew out, hitting Oz and causing them both to fall backwards. The porch broke behind their weight and Oz landed on the ground with Willow on top of him. She screamed and her eyes flew open.
"Oz," she called.
"I'm here," he replied.
Anya walked over and helped them to their feet. "Your cries were most distressing," she said to Willow.
Willow grabbed onto Oz. "I remember."
Oz raised a brow. "Remember?"
"That night, I remember what happened. I remember who shot me," she cried.
Willow ran for the door. Oz and Anya looked at each other, and then ran after her. "Willow, baby, what are you doing? We know who shot you."
Willow shook her head. "No, you don't."
They reached the front door and Willow burst through.
"Where are you going?" Anya yelled. "We know it was Riley."
Willow screeched to a halt. "That's just it. It wasn't Riley."
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Inside the house was a scene straight out of Wrong Turn, in Xander's opinion. They were standing in a small living room, cluttered with old dishes, TV trays, and magazines and about an inch of dust. To their left was a small hallway and to their right, a kitchen/dining room. Any second, Xander expected to hear the dueling banjos.
"We need to get the hell out of here," he said urgently.
Spike didn't appear to hear him. After perusing the living room and kitchen, he started down the hallway. The first door was a bathroom that had seriously seen better days. Across the hallway was a bedroom. More dust and crap covered every surface. Spike was getting agitated. He couldn't find Riley, or anything that indicated Riley had even been here in the last month. Another bloody dead end. Shit.
Spike turned the bedroom light off and was about to leave when something caught his attention. Across the room, under a poster featuring Pamela Anderson in her blonde glory was a small crack of light. Stumbling through the room, Spike made it to the wall and ripped the poster off. Behind it was a door.
"Xander," Spike yelled. "Get your arse back here, now."
Xander appeared in the bedroom doorway. "Yuck, what is that smell?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "Not why you're back here. Help me."
Xander crossed the room and stopped next to Spike. At Spike's nod, both men threw their combined body weight into the door. The wood groaned under the impact, but held. Spike wiped his eyes. He nodded a second time and once again the men launched themselves into the door. This time, the hinges groaned and splintered enough for Spike to pry the door loose. What he saw made his blood boil then ice up.
Candles littered the surface of the shrine. In the middle was a picture of Buffy, taken while she was onstage. Around it were hundreds of other pictures, Buffy sleeping, eating, laughing with Willow, with Spike and with her mom. Moments of time in the life of Buffy Summers. The shrine pissed Spike off, but it was the note under it that made him freeze. Not one of the usual notes Buffy received, it was written in a more flowing script. The elegance of the handwriting did not belie the seriousness of the words.
As Spike read it, his head picked up pace and beat painfully against his chest.
I hate her. She's so fucking perfect. Why her? Why not me? No one sees me through her. But they will. I will make them. She's so perfect, but not for long. Not after I'm done.
Threats of a deranged mind against the woman he loved. Who's mind, that was the question. Paper in hand, Spike rushed from the room, taking the time to grab Xander along the way.
"We're outta here," he said by way of explanation.
"No arguments here," Xander replied.
The two men rushed from the room and down the hallway. In the living room, they collided with a frenzied Willow and a confused Anya and Oz.
"Spike," Willow said breathlessly. "It's not Riley. I remembered that night, and it wasn't Riley."
"I know, ducks," Spike replied.
"Okay then, I'm confused. If it isn't Riley, then who is it?" Xander asked.
Everyone looked at the redhead. "Maureen."
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A/N: Oh my! A twist! Whoo hoo for that! Until next time, my pretties.
