Chapter One – Welcoming Committee

Spike heard heavy footsteps approaching as he contemplated a large crack in the cinder block wall across from where he sat. These footsteps were different from the ones he normally heard, the ones that brought his food – if that's what you wanted to call it. He flicked his dirty and greasy hair out of his eyes, wishing again for a shower, even though he knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon, then pushed himself to his feet with a loud sigh, "Welcoming committee's finally arrived, I suppose. 'Bout bloody time. Only been down here for soddin' ever."

He stood quietly in the center of his cell, trying to mentally prepare himself for the pain he was sure the owner of those footsteps was bringing. The bitch had warned him, had told him what would happen if he didn't bow to her wishes, but… well, he'd never been particularly adept at taking anybody's advice. If he had been then he wouldn't be in this situation to begin with. And when she'd told him what she wanted him to do… he shuddered, a shiver of revulsion working its way down his spine. He couldn't do it. His pride, his bloody stubborn pride, just wouldn't let him. So now, there would be pain.

The sound of the key in the lock of the heavy steel door was loud, echoing off the walls of the tiny cell as the door was unlocked and slammed open. A large, hulking man stood on the threshold, eyes piercing the gloom as he appraised his trapped prey – a thin, slightly built man standing proudly in the middle of the cell, fists clenched at his sides and his piercing blue-eyed gaze locked on the eyes of his soon-to-be tormentor. 'Mom was right. He is too cocky… too proud. She's left him down here for months, no cot, no shower, barely any food… told me she'd rather not get rid of him, since he's more valuable to her alive, and that time in the hole would make him cooperative. Doesn't look like it worked.' The large man's mouth curved into an eager smile. 'This one's going to be lots of fun. I can already tell.'

The first punch took Spike by surprise, catching him low in the gut. 'Git moves fast, considerin' how bleedin' huge he is.' He straightened up slowly, trying to ignore the pain blooming in his belly. "Mornin'. Or is it evenin'? Bit hard to keep track when a bloke's stuck down here in the bowels, yeah?"

The large man stepped back with a smirk. He looked over the panting man standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a dirty, ragged pair of orange pants with the word 'inmate' in large block letters down one leg. "It's morning, actually. Just after seven."

Another punch. This one landed squarely on Spike's mouth, mashing his lips against his teeth and sending him flying backwards into the wall. He slid down to the floor and sat there shaking his head for a few seconds before he climbed back to his feet, pushing off the wall to step up to his attacker. He licked some blood from his split lip and smiled. "Ta. Nice to know. My breakfast will be here soon then?"

The large man chuckled. "No. You'll be a little too busy to eat this morning."

Another punch to the gut followed closely by an elbow to the side of his head dropped Spike to his hands and knees. Blows rained down on his exposed back, the grunts from the man bent over him punctuating each one. A knee slammed into his ear, snapping his head sideways, then a heavy boot crashed into his side and he flew into the wall with a scream of pain. A large hand fisted itself in his long hair and jerked him back to his feet. He swayed a little, his equilibrium thrown off a bit by the ringing in his ear, then he leaned against the wall to keep himself upright as his arms curled around his middle, cradling his ribs. He drew in a ragged breath, wincing sharply, and managed to gasp out, "So… no breakfast, eh? Will I be too busy for lunch as well?"

The large man frowned. 'Cocky little bastard. I could probably beat on him all day and he'd still be mouthing off.' An idea popped into his head and he grinned. 'Mom told me he refused outright. Threw quite a fit about it and told her to just go ahead and kill him.' The grin turned decidedly evil. 'Yeah… something like that should take him down a peg or ten… and I get something out of it, too, aside from a nice workout.' The hand still fisted in the long honey-blond hair slammed the attached head into the wall. "Yeah, you're probably gonna be busy for the rest of the day. I've got plans… and none of them involve you eating. Oh, you're gonna have something in your mouth, don't get me wrong, but it's not gonna be food."

Spike's eyes widened in horror as full realization hit. 'I told that bloody bitch no, but she threw me in here anyway and left me, hopin' I'd give in and agree, but apparently I'm a bit more stubborn than she thought, so this git was sent to try to change my mind. Well, he's about to see stubborn like he's never seen before.' Spike stamped down the horror and let his anger flare brightly as he growled out, "Not bloody likely, mate. Anything you stick in my mouth is gonna get bitten off. I bloody well guarantee that. Told that bitch upstairs the same fuckin' thing. 'S why I've been enjoyin' the comforts of this dank hole for the last however long." His head made sharp contact with the wall again and he blinked hard as blackness started to seep into the edges of his vision.

The large man chuckled as he let go of Spike's hair. "Ok, fair enough. I understand your position, really, I do. And you do have a choice, you know. If you don't like plan A, I suppose I could always go with plan B." He spun the smaller man around, pressing his face harshly against the wall as he pressed something else against his ass. Suddenly he was trying to hold a wildcat as Spike struggled fiercely, pushing back and trying to throw him off.

Spike yelled, "No!" over and over, struggling with all his might, until his face was slammed into the wall, breaking his nose. A large hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard, and Spike stopped moving altogether as his breathing was reduced to a thin reedy whistle. 'Fuckin' wanker. The beatin' I can take… Lord knows I've had enough practice… my useless tosser of a father saw to that, but even at his worst he never...' A memory suddenly slammed into his brain of a large man, reeking of booze, holding him in a similar position. He could feel the rough brick scratching his cheek and the music from the nightclub thumping deep in his bones. The rancid stench wafting up from the rubbish bin at the end of the alley forced its way into his nose and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will it all away. 'Don't think about that, you git. 'M not that helpless kid anymore, I'm a grown man. Put all that behind me years ago.'

Spike opened his eyes, focusing on the tiny bit of cinder block he could see through his stringy hair, and considered his options. His pride was clamoring at him to continue to resist and damn the consequences. It was yelling to not give an inch and to go down fighting. 'Of course it's my buggerin' pride landed me in this sorry position in the first place… both times, as a matter of fact. The first time, my pride wouldn't let me back down, even though I was completely outnumbered. Fought for all I was worth, though. Fat lot of good it did me in the end. Was still dragged out of the club and thrown up against a wall…' Spike suddenly gritted his teeth, slamming the door on that memory and refusing to let it overtake him again. Instead, he focused on his current predicament.

'Pride got me into this mess as well, 'course it had a bit of help. Fuckin' Angel. 'Git played me like a fuckin' fiddle. Knew I'd go along with whatever he wanted long as Dru was the one doin' the askin'… and I did. Followed him around like a soddin' puppy, doin' whatever he told me to… just 'cause she swore up and down that she loved me. I should've known somethin' wasn't right… hell… Clem tried to tell me… several times… but my bleedin' pride wouldn't let me believe that Dru would ever hurt me.' He snorted to himself in his head. 'Of course, she conveniently forgot to mention that she and Peaches had been shaggin' like bunnies the whole time. Wouldn't shag me… oh no… said she was savin' herself for marriage. Strung me along with promises and a lot of snoggin', but Darla… that bitch… was only too happy to point it out… although, she could've let me in on it before we were in the middle of robbin' a bleedin' bank.' His eyes drifted shut as the memory of his last day of freedom played out in his head.

XXXX

Angel burst through the door waving his gun, closely followed by Darla and Dru. "Everybody on the fucking floor! Right now!" Spike brought up the rear, rolling his eyes at Angel as he adjusted the large bag slung over his shoulder.

As the bank patrons and employees dropped to the floor in frightened heaps, Spike made his way to the first teller on the row and slapped the bag onto the counter, motioning for her to get back to her feet with the barrel of his gun. "Fill 'er up, pet. And do it quickly, yeah?" He nodded over his shoulder at Angel who was currently menacing the security guard cowering on the floor next to the door. The poor bloke was covering his head and trying his level best not to piss his pants. "Don't think my mate there is gonna tolerate any hesitation, so get to it."

Dru slinked up behind him, wrapping an arm around his middle as she nipped at his neck. "Mmmm, my Spike. So forceful. So commanding."

He turned to face her, keeping an eye on the trembling girl behind the counter as she stuffed cash into the bag. "No names, kitten, remember? Just stick close to the bitch 'til we're out of here, yeah?"

Darla latched onto Dru's arm and jerked her to the other end of the row. She threw a bag at the teller then leveled her pistol at his head and barked, "Fill it up or I'll blow your fucking head right off."

Dru giggled as Spike turned back to the counter. The first teller had emptied her drawer and was shoving the bag back across the counter. Spike took it from her and waved the barrel of his gun, motioning for her to come around the counter and join the rest of the hostages on the floor. She scrambled to comply as he stepped down the row and thrust the bag at the next teller. "You know the drill, mate. Get on it."

Dru wandered over to stand next to Angel as the bags were filled. When Darla and Spike met in the center of the row, she leaned up and whispered in his ear as she looked at the front door, "They're fucking, you know, whenever you're not around. She's not saving herself for you. She's his. Always has been."

Spike followed her gaze, his jaw clenching in anger when he saw Angel's arms wrapped around his girl. She was nibbling on his neck just below the ski mask and her fingertips were sliding sensually over the front of his pants. Angel looked up, smirking as he caught Spike's eye. "Sorry, Spike. Actually, no, I'm not. You were useful, for a while. Now it's just getting on my last damn nerve watching you moon over her like the pathetic lovesick teenager you are. The girls are mine… both of them."

Spike bellowed, "Bloody mick pillock!" and started stomping toward the front door. He only made it about two steps before there was a loud thunk and a white-hot bolt of pain lanced through his head. He spun to face Darla just in time for the butt of her pistol to smash into his forehead and then everything went black.

He woke up some time later cuffed to a hospital bed. And the rest, as they say, is history. Angel, Darla, and Dru absconded with the dosh and left him to take the fall for the robbery. They'd also been kind enough to leave more than enough evidence at the abandoned mansion they'd holed up in to tie him to half a dozen other crimes. So, at the ripe old age of eighteen, he was carted off to prison.

XXXX

He was brought out of his rather unpleasant stroll down memory lane by a sudden tightening of the hand around his throat. 'Fuck. My options are rubbish any way you slice it.' He steeled himself as he made a hard decision. 'I can handle this… lesser of two evils and all that rot. My pride is just gonna have to take a flyin' leap. Won't do me a helluva lot of good anyway when this wanker splits me open and leaves me lyin' on the floor in a puddle of my own blood. That's somethin' I'd rather not repeat, wasn't a barrel of laughs the first time it happened.' He opened his eyes and worked his throat, trying to get the words out, and finally did when the meaty paw loosened just enough for him to speak. He snuffled up some of the blood dripping from his nose and whispered, "Fine… fine… I'll suck your tiny little knob, but you keep it the fuck away from my arse."

There was a low chuckle as the large man stepped back and spun Spike around then forced him to his knees. "Thought you'd see things my way." He fisted his hand in Spike's long hair again then wrenched his head back. "Just letting you know – I feel any teeth and all bets regarding your ass are off."

Spike nodded as much as he was able, fighting down the acid in his stomach as he heard the clink of the man's belt being undone. He closed his eyes at the sound of the zipper being lowered then swallowed heavily and whispered, "Mind tellin' me your name, mate? Figure it's somethin' I should know, since I'm 'bout to be up close and personal with an intimate bit of your anatomy."

The man grasped his jaw, forcing his mouth open, and chuckled. "Name's Riley Finn. Pleased to meet you, William."