A/N:  I'm truly sorry that it has taken me so long to post this. 

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Chapter 36: The Escape

"Maureen?  Who the hell is Maureen?" Anya demanded.  She had been asking the same question for an hour, and was getting on everyone's nerves. 

"Anya, not until we get back, remember?" Xander said. 

Anya rolled her eyes.  "I don't know why she can't answer the damn question right now.  It's not like anything is going to change when we finally settle down."

Spike silently agreed with the outspoken blonde, but Willow said that she wanted time to think before she answered any questions.  After Xander rebuffed Anya, the rest of the car ride was made in silence. 

The group of friends had finally managed to leave Riley's and converged onto Willow's apartment in full force.  Everyone hammered questions at the redhead until Oz forcibly removed her from the room. 

Oz returned after a few minutes.  "She's going to tell you what she knows, and then you leave so she can sleep, got it?"

The trio nodded and Willow returned.  In a quiet but succinct manner, she explained her dream and the role of Maureen.  "I was onstage, dancing when I was shot.  I haven't been able to remember who did it, until now.  It was Maureen.  We'd had words earlier and I remember her standing next to the bar.  I saw a reflecting light and turned to find it.  The barrel of the gun was reflecting light.  She shot me and then she set the gun behind the bar and walked out the back."

Her voice broke and Oz immediately put his arms around her and shot the others a look.  Xander and Anya stood up and left, Anya had tears rolling down her cheeks.  Spike slowly walked over to Willow.  Kneeling next to her, Spike glanced at Oz, and then wrapped his arms around her body and gently hugged her.  He kissed her temple and rubbed her back. 

"Thank you," he said quietly. 

Spike started to stand when Willow's hand stopped him.  She reached out and covered his hand with her own, squeezing gently.  "We'll find her."

Spike nodded.  "I know.  Now, let Oz pamper you some.  I'm going to tell Joyce and Rupert what's going on, and then heading to the police."

Willow nodded and Oz tipped his head.  Spike headed out the door.  Once outside, he leaned against the building and took a deep breath.

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Buffy paced her cell.  She had quit yelling for Maureen hours ago, and banging on the door yielded nothing but sore knuckles and a flaming temper.  Now, Buffy's mind was quickly looking for escape routes and trying to figure Maureen out.  She wants to be wanted?  By who?  And what does that have to do with me?  Buffy still didn't know why Maureen needed her. 

Okay, ignore Maureen.  Find a way out.  Window?  No, too high.  Door?  Locked.  Anything to pry the door open with.  Nope.  Shit, running out of options here.  Think, Buffy, think.  No superiorly brilliant plan was coming to mind.  Shit, shit, SHIT! 

The door creaked open.  Buffy whirled around.  "Maureen."

Maureen nodded.  "How are things?"

Buffy snorted.  "Just bloody wonderful.  I've been thinking about calling out for a pizza, care to join?"

Maureen cocked her head.  "You talk like that thing you've been fucking.  How does it feel?  Knowing that you're breaking people's hearts with your own careless actions?  Do you get off on it?  You little bitch." 

Buffy was stunned, to say the least.  When Maureen said she wanted to be wanted, Buffy assumed that she was referring to Spike.  It seemed, however, that Spike was not one of Maureen's favorite people.  "What are you talking about you raving lunatic?"

Maureen's eyes fired, but she was careful to stay away from Buffy's striking distance.  "Think about it.  I'll be back later."

Again, Maureen was quickly out the door before Buffy could strike.  Dammit, one of these days I'm going to give that bitch a black eye.  Or two. 

Buffy spent the rest of the day trying to figure out Maureen's cryptic messages.  She wants to be wanted, but by who?  It's obviously not Spike, who the fuck is it then? 

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Spike walked the streets of Sunnydale with heavy thoughts on his mind.  After his conversation with the police and comforting a sobbing Joyce, Spike needed to get away and have time to himself.  He couldn't go home, it was still being repaired.  Anya and Xander were probably busy, as were Oz and Willow.  It made Spike's heart ache even more, his Buffy was out there somewhere and he couldn't do a thing about it.  He'd already gotten Willow to hack into police files and get Buffy's file and he'd visited Maureen's apartment and found nothing. 

And this whole thing with Maureen wasn't making any sense.  Spike knew that it was a man who attacked his house.  The body shape and size, it didn't fit that of a woman, but a man.  As Spike puzzled over it, he unconsciously walked toward his house.  The windows had been repaired and the living room refurnished.  Still, Spike didn't move back in.  It was something he wanted to wait for, for Buffy.  Spike had been planning on asking Buffy to move in with him, and he was determined to wait for her, no matter what. 

Stopping for a minute, Spike leaned against a building and pulled out a fag.  He lit it and took a deep breath, pulling the much-needed nicotine into his body.  Buffy would have a cow if she knew what he was doing.  Her long and arduous campaign to get Spike to quit smoking was failing horribly.  Of course, if she was around, the outcome would be significantly different.  The hiss and burn of his fag was the solitary sound in an uncomfortably silent night. 

As he drifted around the yard, Spike tried to fit the clues together.  Why would Maureen leave the roses and notes?  She wouldn't, at least to Spike's way of thinking.  Willow was sure that Maureen was jealous of Buffy and wanted to hurt her.  Whoever left the notes wanted Buffy to be a lover.  Unless Maureen's feelings had changed very rapidly and in a very short amount of time, and Spike wasn't betting on that.

No, Spike was betting on something else.  If it really was Maureen who'd taken Buffy, then she'd taken her for a specific reason.  Spike really didn't want to ponder what that reason was.  Walking quickly, Spike hailed a taxi.  He gave the driver directions to Willow's apartment, and tried to force his racing mind to relax.  He needed a plan, and he needed right away.  But first, he needed to talk to Willow.

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Willow moaned.  "Oz.  Go answer the door."

Oz grunted and rolled over to grab his short.  He shuffled downstairs and pulled the door open.  Rolling his eyes, Oz backed up and let Spike bound into the apartment.  "Spike, man, it's like three in the morning."

Spike quickly walked around the small living room.  "I know, I'm sorry.  I had a few ideas that I needed to run by Willow."

"I'm not waking Willow up," Oz said flatly. 

"Too late, Willow's already up," she announced as she walked into the room. 

Spike looked guilty for a minute, and then remembered the reason why he was there.  "Red, I got a question for you."

Willow yawned again and rubbed her eyes.  "Shoot."

"Are you absolutely positive it was Maureen?" he asked. 

Willow looked at Spike sharply.  "Pretty sure.  It's not something I would lie about."

Spike nodded.  "I agree, Red.  I just wondered how this all fits.  It wasn't a woman who attacked Buffy at my house, I'm positive of that.  I tackled him and chased him, and it definitely was a man."

Oz shook his head.  "What are you saying, Spike?  That Maureen was working with someone?" 

Spike nodded his head.  "Something like that."

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Buffy banged on the door.  "Maureen, let me out.  Maureen, I know you can hear me, now come here.  MAUREEN!"

Buffy was rewarded when the door opened.  Maureen cautiously poked her head in.  "What?"

"I need something to eat," Buffy said. 

Maureen rolled her eyes.  "I already fed you.  Eat that."

"I already did," Buffy replied.  "Besides, I'm a growing girl.  Need my vitamins and minerals."

"Fine," came Maureen's terse reply.  "I'll go see what we have."

She turned her back and Buffy stuck.  Using a leg that she pried loose from the night stand, Buffy clubbed Maureen over the head.  The tall dancer screamed and turned to face the attack.  Buffy grabbed her flailing arms and pulled her back.  Using a quick spin, Buffy managed to throw Maureen into the room and scoot past her, out the door.  Buffy slammed the door behind her and locked it, trapping Maureen in the room that had been Buffy's prison. 

Once outside her cell, Buffy took a minute to get her bearings.  To her immediate left and right were doors.  In front of her was a large window, and when Buffy turned around, she spied a staircase.  Buffy cautiously headed for the stairs.  She listened for a minute, and then silently crept down the stairs.  At the bottom, Buffy stepped into a large alcove.  There wasn't a door in sight, so Buffy turned right.  A kitchen greeted her, bright and cheerful with pictures on the walls and apple wallpaper.  Buffy wanted to heave.  Her spirits perked up when she spied a window opening to the living room, just on the other side of the kitchen.  And when she saw a doorway in the living room, Buffy's spirits soared.  Freedom.  Slowly, Buffy moved forward, toward the living room and salvation.  She could vaguely hear Maureen yelling, and she rejoiced at the sound.  Then, Maureen suddenly stopped. 

The absolute silence was unnerving.  Maureen was no longer pounding on the door.  No traffic passed by and there wasn't even a clock ticking to break up the overwhelming stillness.  It was like being sucked into a vacuum; noiseless, airless and completely detached.  Buffy's vision blurred, the oak table and chairs wavered and then stretched.  Minutes seemed to stretch into eternity, the distance from the doorway of the kitchen to that of the living room seemed to grow by leaps and bounds. Lights danced and twirled and Buffy had the most insane urge to giggle.  Okay, pull it together.  Gotta get to the door.  Get out of this uber-creepy Brady Bunch house and get the police.  Deep breathes, concentrate. 

Buffy held her breath and slowly crept across the slick linoleum floor.  A board creaked under her weight and the sound raced through Buffy like an electric shock.  Her heart began to pound in her chest and she struggled to breathe.  Her eyes darted wildly around the kitchen as she looked for intruders, her basest fight or flight instincts kicking in.  Oh shit, anybody hear that?  Run, run fast, and get out!

Buffy darted toward the living room.  She made it to the door separating the two rooms when she heard it; a key in the front door lock.  It rattled and then Buffy heard the distinct click of a lock falling open.  Buffy whimpered and scurried backwards.  Her hands hit the linoleum and she crawled under the oak table.  Still whimpering like a wounded animal, Buffy pulled the chairs in front of her in a vain attempt to hid herself.  Hide, must hide.  Be quiet, stop that, and be quiet. 

Footsteps sounded in the living room.  A television clicked on and Buffy could hear the sounds of the evening news.  A sigh and then the furniture creaked.  Buffy froze in place, unable to move or think.  After several seconds, Buffy releases the breath she had been holding.  She tried to be as quiet as possible, breathing shallowly.  Minutes felt like hours, and Buffy felt her feet go numb.  After what seemed like an infinite amount of time, the television was switched off.  Again Buffy held her breath and prayed as the footsteps moved into the kitchen.  She shrank back as far into her hiding spot as she could.  The feet came into view right in front of her.  Dark brown leather shoes, definitely male.  Please, please, please don't look down. 

Buffy had never been an intensely religious person in her life.  Sure, she believed in the basics and she tried to lead a good life.  At that exact moment, hiding under a large oak table, praying to a God she didn't know existed, Buffy got her answer.  The feet turned and moved out of the kitchen.  She watched as they walked into the alcove and then head up the stairs.  Buffy sent heartfelt thanks out to whoever was listening.   As quick as a snake, Buffy slithered out from under the table and stood.  The feeling returned to her feet with a vengeance, and she almost cried out as the pins and needles spiked through her. 

Trying to regain sensation without alerting anyone, Buffy sat down on a chair and began to vigorously rub her feet.  Her gaze darted around the small kitchen and back to the alcove, watching for anyone.  She still didn't hear Maureen yelling and vaguely wondered if the new arrival knew of Maureen's kidnapping activities.  Buffy dropped her foot and lifted the next.  Her socks were absolutely disgusting; Maureen had taken her shoes away after she'd thrown them at her during her first day of captivity.  Idly, Buffy wondered exactly how long she had been missing.  Spike must be going insane, she thought ruefully. 

Her gaze continued to flit around the kitchen, taking in the extremely cheerful wallpaper and decorations.  She noticed several pictures hanging on the wall.  Curious, Buffy inched closer to the pictures.  When she was close enough to see, Buffy felt nausea rise in her stomach. 

It was a picture of her sleeping with Spike.

Another of her laughing with Willow at Big Al's.

One of her and Spike stealing a kiss at dinner with Xander and Anya.

Her life was spread out in the pictures on the wall.  Onstage at the club, out in the parking lot when she got the first rose, laying with Spike after they made love for the first time, even ones of her sleeping by herself at her apartment.  Whimpers escaped unnoticed from Buffy as she backpedaled away from the wall.  Her heart pounded and her legs felt like rubber. 

Buffy's stocking feet lost purchase on the slick floor and she fell backwards, still whimpering.  Dimly, she heard noises and the pounding of feet coming down the stairs.  With her heart racing, Buffy flew to her feet and ran to the living room.  She stumbled over shoes and an ottoman, and a shooting pain ran through her foot.  Buffy paid no mind; she was focused on only one thing: the front door.  There were noises and crashes behind her as her assailants gave chase but Buffy didn't hear them.  She reached the door and almost cried in relief.  Her joints filled with water and she sagged against the door. 

Twisting the knob, Buffy flung the door open and ran outside.  She was on the porch when Maureen tackled her.  In a flying heap of arms, legs and swear words, Buffy and Maureen tumbled over the porch and down the concrete stairs.  They landed on a patch of grass in an enormous front yard.  Buffy felt Maureen struggle briefly, and then go limp.  After a quick inspection, Buffy saw that Maureen was merely unconscious.  Without her usual grace or delicacy, Buffy fumbled to her feet and fled to the gate.  Chancing a look behind her, Buffy saw Maureen still laying the grass.  Only now, she wasn't by herself.  A second figure was crouched beside her, and when he looked up, Buffy gasped. 

Riley's eyes flashed with anger.  With slow and deliberate movements, Riley rose to his feet.  Adopting a casual air, he slowly strode toward her.  Buffy wasted no time, she threw the gate open and ran out.  Into the woods.  In a panic, Buffy ran further and further into the dense forest, losing her way but not caring.

And with slow, deliberate steps, Riley followed. 

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A/N: Until next time, my pretties.