Prologue ~ Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three

 

 

 

 

 

Roses Watered With Blood

Written by Bre

 

 

 

Prologue

 

 

Her body flowed to the music. The beat playing around her matched every rhythm she produced as she swirled around seductively. Her eyes were closed, her hair was streaked with red, contrasting with the bright blonde that was her hair. Her skin was slick with sweat from her many hours of dancing among the other migrating bodies. Her hips twisted and turned, her hands roamed her hot body as she resoundingly danced among the people surrounding her as the mass of young adults moved as one. Her full breasts were encased in a black, lace bra, the piece of lingerie pushing her breasts up, making them look fuller and sexier. Since her name had not been on the list to get in, she had been forced to take off her shirt, thankfully distracting the bouncer and guards long enough for them to let her into the heavily guarded and exclusive club that was owned by the most wanted criminal in her country, Angelus "Angel" Dravers. She had given the men outside her shirt in pay, now only clothed in a small matching thong covered in a blood red micro mini-skirt, standing up on black platforms.

 

There was one, and only one, reason why she was there, in that particular club on that particular night. It was rumored that Dravers was to appear in that very club that night, coming to deal with some unfinished business. She had a purpose. She was on a mission. Her orders were clear. She was to attract the unsuspecting Angel Dravers and seduce him, than kill him with the knife she had hidden in the waist band of her skirt. It was simple. She had never failed before. Her boss wanted someone dead, she did the deed. And she always succeeded. This time, her boss wanted Dravers done for. Wanted the man who had rivaled him for years dead so he could finally take over. It would be her greatest and hardest job. Something that would put her at the top, right next to the man she served. Where she felt she belonged. Long ago, she had already proven herself, but it was a male dominated arena where she did her work.

 

Buffy Summers rose her arms in the air, swinging her body to the song as the people around her touched her, danced with her, hugged her. She did not notice them, her thoughts on the job she had to get done. Now, the only thing she needed to worry about was the master criminal mind who's future was to be distinguished in a matter of hours.

 

As she thought back to the details that were always given to her before she actually did the job, she remembered seeing Dravers's surveillance photos, remembered seeing his dark features and dark eyes, remembered how fired up she had been once her eyes had laid upon the photos. She couldn't deny it. They guy was fucking hot. Hotter than most men. But, as usual, she pushed those thoughts away, always did, never letting personal feelings get in the way, because that led to some unwanted problems. Always had, always will. But, the more she thought of him and the more out of control her fantasies got, she knew it would be a problem. A big one.

 

Lowering her hands, she once again caressed the soft skin that was her taut stomach, knowing she had the attention of many of them men in the room. But, the one gaze she failed to notice was that of a man who stood in a room above the large crowd, his eyes on her, her movements making waves of desire crash through his system. It was the one man she was there to kill. And she had no idea how hard that would be.

 

 

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Angel Dravers watched the young woman dance downstairs amongst the many members who were apart of his club. Watched as men constantly groped her, attempted unspeakable things. But she would have none of it. She danced like she waited for one man in particular to take her into notice. He had come to the meeting he had needed to attend here dressed casually, but dressed to kill. He knew he had a great body, looking sexy as hell, and he knew he was the obsession for many women. But, it was his reputation that kept him under control. He couldn't afford to lose everything he had worked for because he was being careless. Wearing tight, black leather pants and a black wifebeater, he allowed his eyes to admire the fine body of the woman he had his eye on, the desire and lust only adding fuel to the quickly growing fire within him. Clenching the beer bottle he held, he knew he had to have her. Had to be inside her. Had to feel her body writhe underneath his as she came. Narrowing his eyes, he made his decision. He didn't care about the fact that he was the most wanted man in this country, maybe the next. A need inside him telling him to go and claim the woman that called out to him.

 

Ignoring the curious gazes of the men who worked for him, he headed to the stairs into the heart of the club, Oceans, where he immediately began searching for her. He ignored the women who seemed to flock to him like a hungry birds. And he was the food. But the only thought in his head at the moment was that of the sexy, petite blonde that seemed to have every males attention, especially in that outfit. Pushing his way past people, he headed to the middle of the dance floor, knowing that was where he would find her. Which he did.

 

Standing amongst a group of people, mostly men, she stood, moving her body sexily to the beat, her eyes closed. Her back was to him, but he knew it was her. The way she moved was enough evidence. Once more pushing his way through the pulsating bodies, he came up behind her, the flashing lights making him look taller compared to her small frame.

 

Music booming, he slid up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, pressing his chest into her nearly bare back, moving to the music's beat with her.

 

 

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Something inside her knew immediately who's hands gripped her hips and started moving with her. Buffy smiled and opened her eyes, deciding not to turn around but to move against him. She gripped his hands and moved them up and down her body, moving them to grip her breasts. Once there, she felt the man behind her squeeze. She gasped and laid her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes, deciding to play with him. He did it again, but harder and Buffy moaned, her hips grinding against his, her ass pressing into him. He leaned down to kiss and suck on her neck and Buffy was surprised how good it actually felt, arching her neck into his mouth, giving him better access to her skin. He nipped and licked the sensitive spots on her throat, making Buffy bite her lip. Better than I imagined, she thought, one of her hands finding the back of his neck, pressing his mouth into her. Her other hand found the back of his shoulder as his hands began moving down her waist as their bodies grinded against the other, silently making their own music.

 

Angel found she tasted than he would have ever thought, his hands gliding over her lithe body, wanting, no, needing, to feel her, know her body as well as he knew his own. More than that. He removed his mouth as she turned around in his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and looking up at him. He tightened his arms and his hand wandered down to down to her plump ass, squeezing one of her cheeks. Going low enough, he could feel skin because of her skirt. Looking down at her, he realized how truly beautiful she was, the height from which he had been at lying. Glowing blonde hair with small streaks of dark red flowing through it. Her face was sweaty and deliciously lustful. Her lips were full and heart-shaped, the red of them making her hazel eyes glow.

 

Oh, fuck.

 

Buffy hid her shock well. She had not actually realized herself how absolutely gorgeous he was. His hair was spiky and soft to the touch, his eyes pools of dark brown she knew she would drown in if she could. Looking into them now, she saw them clouded with pure desire and true lust, making her slightly wet between the legs from their intensity. She broke out of her reverie, mentally shaking her head and pushing those kind of thoughts out of her head when he spoke.

 

"Hi."

 

Buffy reveled in his deep voice before responding. "Hey," she said, her voice husky and needy. He gazed at her.

 

"Angel."

 

Buffy almost smirked at the small note of pride in his voice, as if he knew it would impress. But, she was more preoccupied with her troubling thoughts. Should she tell him her name? She never told anyone her name except for her truly close friends, the few that she had, that is. But, before she could contemplate it, she just said it.

 

"Buffy."

 

Angel raised his eyebrows. One, because of the fact that he was so attracted to her and two, because the name belonged to the woman he was supposed to seduce and keep "hostage" until her boss came for her and three because she said her name so boldly. Her boss had clearly stated that she was careful and shouldn't be underestimated. Well, he was wrong as the fucking sun was bright. And if the gods didn't strike him down in the next few hours, he was going to enjoy this seduction. Staring at her young face and feeling her hot, soft body against his hard one, though, he decided she was acting innocent enough. He wanted to kick himself for just giving into his desires as he did and not remembering his real purpose here. And for not realizing that the woman he had been staring at was one of the reasons he was in this club in the first place. Anyway, how could he deny the question in her eyes. The one question that he himself was asking. Wanna get a room and fuck each other senseless? How, indeed?

 

Buffy watched his reaction to her name carefully, wondering why his eyebrows had shot up at her name. To distract him in case he did recognize her name, she leaned up and captured his lips in a searing kiss, feeling him respond roughly. Teeth crashed and tongues dueled rapidly. As he pulled away, Buffy found herself panting heavily, her eyes clouded and he leaned in, breathing on her ear softly, making her shiver, made her forget about all of the questions she had been asking herself. He licked her lobe. Buffy found her eyes shuttering closed and her mouth open, deep and silent moans escaping her.

 

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear, breathily. She shivered against him and didn't even need to nod her head as Angel guided her off the dance floor, towards the staircase. His arm was hanging loosely around her thin waist as her arm cradled his shoulder. She saw women eyeing her, evil glints and jealous sparks in all their eyes. Buffy smiled and felt good about the fact that she had him, only her, before remembering her purpose. She remembered the knife that was sewn into the waistband of her skirt. She remembered her boss and her assignment.

 

Angel could see men staring at Buffy's body, the barely there outfit she sported, and felt a possessive feeling he didn't know could hold so much power. His arm tightened around her and she, as if sensing the other people's stares, leaned up and started kissing his neck, which wasn't difficult because of her added height. He almost purred from her soft touches as her hand fluttered on to his chest. Reaching the stairs, he hurried up them, Buffy keeping equal pace with him. He smiled. They continued to climb until they reached the second floor, immediately heading to an elevator. 

 

Stepping in, Angel didn't wait until the doors closed. He turned his head and grabbed the lips of the small blonde, pushing her back into the cab wall. It shook from the impact, but neither noticed, both too busy trying to shove their tongue's down the other's throat. Angel kissed her bruisingly, pushing the PH button, going up to the penthouse. Buffy already had her hands in his shirt, her nails scratching his hard muscled chest. He moaned into her mouth and tried to push her further into the cab wall, but it didn't work, Buffy's back annoyingly rubbing against the hard wall. She didn't mind the pain though, her thoughts only on a certain Angel as she started lifting his shirt. He broke from the kiss so she could totally lift it off. She tossed it away and giggled as he started attacking her throat, sucking hard and nibbling on her skin, making Buffy moan loudly and murmur, "Don't stop." He didn't.

 

As the elevator came to a halt, Angel wrapped his arms around her and pulled her with him, Buffy willingly following. He pulled her to the opposite of the cab where the wall opened and a hand identification pad came out. Angel, still kissing her shoulder, placed his hand on it and waited while the computer read his fingerprints, making sure the right person wanted into the floor.

 

"Welcome, Angel," a female computer voice said as the doors opened. Buffy, luckily, had been paying attention and had noticed this. This place was a fortress, having already noted all the cameras and guards. As they left the elevator, Angel left her neck and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards a very large bed that sat in the corner of the very large room. Buffy realized that the whole entire penthouse floor must be his, in this one room. In one sat a large conference table, a desk next to that, fitness equipment scattered everywhere. A large kitchen, which Buffy assumed was stock full of food, was in another corner. She could see other bedrooms and a living room off to the left and right. She also found that there were no cameras. Anywhere. This would be easier that she had expected. Then, as Angel once more gathered her in his arms, she momentarily forgot the real reason she was there until she felt his hand brush against her lower back.

 

She felt her stomach drop as his fingers grazed her hidden knife and she acted quickly. Turning around in his arms, she grabbed his hand and guided him to the bed in the corner, pulling him back before her so he could sit. Pushing on his shoulders, she placed herself between his knees and kissed him slowly. "Relax," she said softly.

 

Angel did just that, having no problem with getting a little before she attacked him. Leaning back on his hands, he watched her step back and begin removing her shoes. It was all planned out. She was assigned to seduce him and kill him by her boss, who was working with Angel the entire time. Buffy was apparently proving to be a competitive problem among his staff and he wanted her gone, no matter how good she was. The plan was that Angel would keep her until her boss figured out what to do with her.

 

Tossing her shoes to the side, Buffy felt her skin dance when her feet hit the cold hardwood floors. Ignoring the sensation, Buffy ran her hands up her sides slowly, watching his reaction. His eyes were glazed with passion as he watched her, but she also saw something more sinister beneath his heavy gaze. Filing it away for later thinking, Buffy thought about how she would move. She had to keep her skirt on, she knew, or else the entire thing would go to hell. Slipping her hands underneath her tiny skirt, she looped her fingers under the tiny straps of her thong and was about to pull it down when he stopped her.

 

"Don't," he said softly, holding his hand out. Buffy glanced up at his face and found it completely emotionless. Ignoring the warning bells in the back of her mind, she instead listened to the voice of her body's life as it screamed to be touched by his large hands. Stepping forward, she extended her own hand and felt his hard grip. He pulled her body roughly to his, keeping her standing between his knees.

 

His head was level with her chest as he looked up and met her gaze. And as if the world itself had melted away, they were suddenly just two people, standing in an abyss of desire as they stared at each other, their identities lost and forgotten. Buffy cradled his head between her hands as she leaned down to kiss him softly. It was such a pity that she had to kill this man... how she would have loved to whisk him away for a weekend to a secluded island where she could get her fill of him, then kill him. But, orders were orders and she was not the slacker type.

 

Buffy moaned into his mouth as his hands slipped up her back, expertly unclasping her bra. Pulling back from her, Angel pulled her arms down so he could slip her bra off. Her breasts bounced free and he threw the offending material away from them. Leaning forward, he took her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His eyes wandered to her face to see that she had thrown her head back and her mouth was agape. He fought to hold back his chuckle of amusement. This is going to be too easy, he thought.

 

His hands slid up her back once more before descending, caressing her soft skin. As his fingers were about to touch her skirt in an attempt to pull it off, he felt his little blonde lover-to-be suddenly grab his hands and pull them away from the hem of her skirt. He could literally taste the alarm on her skin as he felt her heartbeat pick up. He pulled back from her breast to look up at her, only to see her staring at him, her face free of emotion as she mentally wiped the slate clean. He knew it was time.

 

And it was just too damn bad.

 

He had been warned, of course. He knew that she was to be concealing a weapon in her clothing somewhere, but he didn't imagine it would be something associated with her skirt. He'd imagined it would be strapped to her thigh or ankle, or hidden in her bra strap, or something generic and run of the mill. But, not her skirt. He could only imagine how she had managed to pull that off.

 

Grinning up at her to cover her and himself, he released her all together and scooted back on the bed, kicking off his shoes in the process. Laying back, he kept his gaze trained on her as she merely stood at the foot of the bed, her eyes always on him. She was indeed a well-trained killer, but she wasn't good enough. Not for him.

 

He beckoned for her to come to him and she did so, crawling on her hands and knees onto the bed. He watched as she slithered her way up to him, her body rubbing against his seductively before finally reaching his face. Smiling, he kissed her, pushing his tongue past her lips to seek hers. Grabbing her hips, her tugged her a bit towards his own, encouraging her to straddle him. She did not disappoint as she squeezed him with her strong legs.

 

Buffy grinned to herself, ignoring her earlier feeling of foreboding when he had almost touched her weapon, noting how he put himself in the perfect position to be killed, just as she had planned it. As their tongues continued to duel, she slowly began reaching behind herself, rubbing her hand against his body as she made her way to the back of her skirt where her small knife was hidden. She smirked to herself as she recalled someone telling her that in order for a kill to go to plan, the bigger the better. She had found out that it was really the sharper the better. Size didn't matter when it came to weapons.

 

As her fingers traced the outline of the thin dagger, she pushed her hips into his, her wet thong coming into contact with his hardness. As her slick clit caressed his hard leather, she gasped and pulled away, panting against his mouth as she felt her hips push against him harder. Moaning loudly, she opened her eyes to see that his were closed as well. Her breath hitched as his hips jerked up into her, causing pleasurable ripples to echo in her body.

 

Releasing a whimper that she couldn't stay here longer, Buffy forced herself to concentrate, pushing her lips against his with a new need, whether it be born of her newfound pleasure or the desire to kill him as quickly as possible, she didn't know.

 

Moving against him, Buffy found the handle of her knife through the slinky material of her skirt and let loose a loud moan as she forced the knife up, effectively cutting through the mess of her stitching. A small rip could be heard, but she distracted him long enough to make sure he didn't pay attention. Grabbing hold of the blade, she slid the cool metal from it's hiding place and flipped it in her hand expertly, catching it so she had a good grip.

 

Pulling back from his lips once more, Buffy sat up with one hand behind her back and the other bracing herself on his chest. He looked up at her with clouded eyes and Buffy furrowed her brows when she thought she saw a ghost of a smile sketched on his face. Licking her lips, she felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and excitement begin coursing through her body as she brought the knife around.

 

"Sorry, lover," she said in a husky voice, gripping the knife in both hands and bringing it over her head, "But it's time for you to go."

 

Buffy didn't falter when she didn't see a change in his demeanor, only intent upon bringing the knife down and ending his life as soon as possible so she could get home and find some little hottie to fuck. Because goddamn him if he didn't turn her on.

 

She thought she heard and felt the air whistle as she brought the knife down. And then she was tackled. Before she knew what was happening, the knife was out of her hands and there was a large man in a tuxedo straddling her to the ground, her arms bound above her head with his large hand. Blinking her eyes in surprise, she winced when the lights were suddenly turned on and the room glowed with a healthy light.

 

"What the fuck is going on?" she cried out. Turning her head, she saw Angel sitting on the bed, chuckling as he stood.

 

"Sorry, lover," he said, mocking her, "But it's now your time to go."

 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Buffy yelled, struggling against the large bulk of the man straddling her to the ground. "What the hell is going on?"

 

Ignoring the fact that her chest was bare for all to see, Buffy used all the strength she had against the man on top of her. He grunted with the exertion needed to keep her small frame against the floor. And she also noticed that his eyes were drawn to her. To her breasts as they bounced freely. Grunting herself, Buffy threw her leg back and felt the tip of her foot come into contact with the back of his head.

 

Howling in pain, the man on top of her sat up and she took complete advantage. Throwing her legs up, she wrapped them around his neck and threw him to the ground. As his hands released her wrists, she rolled over, causing him to fall to his stomach. Jumping to her feet, Buffy dashed for the doorway, only to have a pair of strong arms catch her before she could get to freedom.

 

"Ah ah ah," Angel said, "Sorry, there, Buff, but that's not on the agenda for the day."

 

"Let me go!" Buffy screamed, kicking and punching her arms in hopes that she would connect with some kind of flesh. "Get the fuck off of me!"

 

"Yeah, well, you weren't complaining a couple of minutes ago," Angel said in a low voice as he fought her struggles.

 

But it would appear that the little powerhouse in his arms wasn't going to be calming anytime soon. Grabbing her arm as she slithered out of his once more, Angel pulled her back forcefully and headbutted her in the back of her head. He heard her groan in pain and her fighting stopped immediately as she collapsed in his arms, her hand going back to cradle the wound he had inflicted.

 

"Oh, fuck," she muttered, closing her eyes in an attempt to stop the pounding in her head. Then the mind-numbing dread filled her and she opened her eyes quickly, only to close them once more. The feeling of defeat and fear washed over her as she wondered what would happen to her. The first job she fucked up. She had never felt so horrible as she did in that moment.

 

"Well done, Angelus," a British voice said merrily from the door, his clapping hands echoing in the silent room. "Well done, indeed."

 

Buffy's eyes snapped open, ignoring the pain in her head as she focused on the man who had entered. Before her stood a man with bleached hair that she had always thought made him look obnoxious, dressed in a navy suit, surrounded by his constant companions, a barrage of men dressed similarly that served as his security.

 

"Spike," she ground out, her body going completely limp in Angel's arms. What the fuck was going on?

 

William "Spike" Pryce shot the blonde a shit-eating grin as he sauntered up to the two. "That's right, baby. It's Spike."

 

"What the fuck is going on?" Buffy demanded, her struggles beginning anew.

 

Angel rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Would you knock it the hell off?" he asked, turning them both around, away from Spike. "Finn! Get your ass over here and control her!"

 

The man whom she had beaten into submission came over and once more took a hold of her. Ignoring the pain in the back of her head, Buffy struggled against him once again.

 

"Well, if she isn't just full of energy on this fine night," Spike said with glee. Angel shot him a look as he gestured to one of his own men who had been standing in the corner throughout the entire scene. The man immediately approached them, a long needle in his hands. Buffy's eyes widened as fear filled her like nothing she'd felt.

 

"No!" she shouted, fighting as two other men were brought forward to help keep her still as the burly man before her prepared the needle. "Get that away from me!"

 

"Yeah," Spike mumbled, "She's got that thing about needles. Forgot about that."

 

"Well, too late now," Angel said.

 

It was the last thing Buffy heard as the needle slipped into the juncture at her elbow. The drugs acted quickly as they spread throughout her body and her vision blurred, black spots jumping in her line of view. She saw a dark figure bend over her as all the men released her and she fell to the ground.

 

"Sorry, lover," it said. "But you've just been fucked over."

 

Then all she saw was blackness.

 

 

 

Part One

"Realizations"

 

Beginnings of non-consensual sex

 

“... No, mate, you gotta keep her for just a couple of days... not that bloody long...”

 

“Oh, yeah... like the last one, right?”

 

“Oh, for fuck sakes, man! This is a completely different situation and you know it!”

 

“Spike...”

 

“I don't want her dead, but I don't want her out there on the bloody prowl. She's too much of a liability.”

 

“A liability?”

 

“Listen here, Angelus. We've already discussed all that needs to be discussed. That's as far as it goes and that's as far as it ever goes.”

 

“Yeah, I know... just remember, if she does anything that remotely resembles what happened last time, it's your ass and her death. You have no fucking idea what I went through and I don't fucking care whether or not you say that can't happen, it will.”

 

“You got a lot o' balls there, big boy.”

 

“I learned from the best, didn't I?”

 

“Ah, yes, my asshole stepfather. Those were fun times.”

 

“Shut the fuck up. And get out of here. If this is as far as it goes then why are you still in here?”

 

“We are family, aren't we? And why in the bloody stinkin' hell aren't we in your office? I hate these fuckin' 'dungeons' you insist on keeping.”

 

“It keeps them here, doesn't it? Plus, it adds a flare of... oh, I don't know...”

 

“Stupidity, that's what.”

 

“Get the hell out of here.”

 

“Fine. But I'll be back in a couple of days, to check on her.”

 

“Spike...”

 

“I mean it, Angelus. I don't want this one dead. She's too valuable right now. I couldn't afford it.”

 

“Oh, that's right...”

 

“Don't you even fucking finish that sentence.”

 

“Then get the fuck out or I'll have you thrown out.”

 

“Fine, I'm gone. But don't touch a hair on her head. I'll fucking count them if I have to when I get back.”

 

“What? So you can fuck her later? Yeah, I'll keep her nice and primed.”

 

“Oh, fuck off, Angelus...”

 

“Out, William!”

 

“I'm gone, I'm gone... you bloody prick...”

 

 

 

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Buffy roused herself from her dreamless sleep, lifting her head from where it hung against her chest and rolling it back. She winced when she hit the back of her head against the hard stone behind her. Opening her eyes, Buffy fought the blurry mess in her eyes, blinking a couple of times as she tried to orient herself.

 

The last thing she remembered was that big needle being stuck in her arms and seeing Spike and Angel standing over her.

 

“Oh, dammit,” Buffy mumbled as her mind slowly put the pieces together while at the same time fighting the fogginess left over from the drug she'd been introduced to.

 

They'd been working together... the entire time. Everything she'd been brought up to believe in her line of work was a complete lie. Buffy felt trashed. She felt like someone had taken a hammer and thrown it against her head.

 

Forcing her eyes to focus, Buffy moved to stand taller only to find that her arms were chained to the wall, hard manacles non-to-gently cradling her wrists. Looking up, she tugged against them in hopes that they might be loose and she might have a fighting chance. No such luck. Looking around her, she found that her living accommodations were nothing. Literally.

 

There was a spiral staircase ten feet before her that lead up into a dark room that she couldn't see, no matter how far she angled her head. The room she was in was small and dank, made of rough stoned walls and hard bars covering the small window that seemed about twenty feet in the air. There was a small cot one of the corners which laid next to a small water basin made of wood.

 

Tugging at her arms again, Buffy looked up and pulled harder. Nothing gave. Sighing in frustration, she let her arms dangle as she looked down at herself. She was dressed the same as she had been when she had been drugged and carted down here. She was topless, her hair dirty and tangled as the strands caressed her shoulders, the small skirt she wore was torn and dirty, which covered her small thong which she figured had the same treatment. She was bare foot and her feet ached from the coldness of the floor, protesting as she shifted feet every few minutes.

 

Her arms were sore as hell and she closed her eyes in pain as she tried to stretch. The amount of time she had been here was untellable and it made her madder. And just who the fuck did Spike think he was? Did he not know who the fuck he was dealing with?

 

And then there was Angel, who had been playing her himself the entire time. She could feel the rage building deep inside her chest and she resisted the urge to struggle against the chains, knowing that it would most likely cause her more damage. Looking up, she saw the chains she was held in were tied up higher, forcing her to stand. She also saw that there was normally enough slack to allow her to sit on the floor and she cursed her keeper for not allowing that. But then that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

 

Sighing in half defeat and half fear mixed with utter frustration, Buffy resigned herself to leaning against the cold wall, ignoring the coolness from it seeping into her skin by formulating a plan to escape. Surely there was a flaw in their plan. There always was.

 

It was a mere ten minutes of thinking that she got before she heard a door open above her. She heard faint footsteps and realized that they were headed for the staircase before her. Buffy watched them in anticipation. She didn't give a flying fuck who the hell it was, just as long as she got to tell someone that she wanted a shirt and somewhere to fucking sit.

 

The first thing she saw was a pair of legs incased in soft, black pants and hard boots, then a torso covered in a black t-shirt. Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw that it was the one and only Angel Dravers, whom had probably come down to rub her face in the fact that she was hostage in his little cell of hell while she had failed to kill him.

 

“You're awake,” he said calmly, looking over her disheveled body with little interest. He ignored the little kick in his brain when he saw her pert nipples and heavy breasts. Ignoring the twinge in his groin, Angel stood before her, crossing his arms across his chest.

 

“Yeah, I'm awake,” Buffy said in a scratchy voice. “And what the fuck is going on? What do you want with me? Why are you and Spike keeping me alive?”

 

“Well...” Angel said, moving so he could lean against the wall opposite her. “Spike has some bigger plans for you and I'm just helping keep you safe... you know, kind of a favor to an old friend.”

 

“That has got to be the lamest shit I've ever heard. If anyone ever found out that two of the biggest rivaling crime lords in the country were in point of fact friends, there would be mass hysteria.”

 

Angel smirked. She had spunk. Just as Spike had promised. “Yeah, well, that's why it's a secret.”

 

Buffy felt her skin tingle as his eyes drifted over her body and she cursed herself for finding herself still drawn to him.

 

“A little cold?”

 

“Fuck off,” Buffy spat. “Why the fuck don't you get me a shirt?”

 

“Why would I want to do that?” Angel asked sweetly, his smirk growing into a smart ass half grin. “Why... when I could look at those sweet nipples harden every time I enter the room?”

 

Buffy felt a blush cover her chest as his gaze lingered on her breasts. Looking down, she saw that they were indeed hard and she was horrified to realize that there was a soft warmth coming from between her legs. After all the shit that the two of them had put her through, she was getting wet at the mere fucking sight of the stupid prick.

 

“I'm cold, remember?” Buffy snapped, glaring daggers at the man before her. She saw him wink at her and she looked away immediately, afraid of her reaction. Since when was she so fucking weak?

 

“Oh, come then, now,” Angel said softly, slowly advancing. “We both know that's a lie, lover.”

 

Buffy met his gaze, forcing a brave front. She couldn't let him know that she was falling beneath his attacks. And falling hard. “Fuck. You.”

 

“Actually, I was thinking of fucking you,” Angel said mildly before rushing towards her. Before she could react, his lips were on hers and she was responding. God, but there was something about him that made her skin tingle with wild anticipation and she ignored the warning bells in the back of her head. As if there was nothing wrong with the world, they were once again just two lovers about to fuck like the wild animals they were born to be.

 

And then Buffy remembered what had happened.

 

“That's right, baby. It's Spike.”

 

“Yeah. She's got that thing about needles. Forgot about that.”

 

“Sorry, lover, but you've just been fucked over.”

 

Buffy pulled away from him roughly. He quickly pinned her body to the wall as she lifted her leg to deliver a kick to his groin and she struggled, ignoring the pain in her tired body. “Get the fuck off me!”

 

“Shh,” Angel said in her ear, dodging her thrashing head. Pushing his hips into hers, he forced her to feel his hard erection. Buffy widened her eyes in fear and anger as he moved his hand to unzip his pants.

 

“No!” Buffy screamed. “I won't fucking let you fuck me!”

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel yelled over her screams. He participated with her screams willingly, knowing that no one could hear anything coming from the room unless they were at the staircase. And he knew that no one was. Unzipping his pants, he pinned her body to the rock behind her, glad he had put her in the chains. He allowed her to struggle, and struggle she did. But her body was unable to keep up with her angered emotions and she soon fell limp against the wall.

 

“No,” she whispered, looking up at him.

 

“I know you want it,” he said softly into her ear as he lifted her to his height. “I know you want to be fucked just as bad as I want to fuck you.”

 

Shaking her head in denial, Buffy refused to accept it. It couldn't be. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be out in the world, doing another job for her non-betraying boss, doing someone else... not being held against her will. But she couldn't ignore the jolt of excitement at being forced to do this. She couldn't hold in her own anticipation of being fucked by her captor while she laid helpless. It had always been a small fantasy for her, and not only was she being forced into it right at the moment, but she wasbeing forced to by the only man who had managed to keep the lust roaring through her veins, even while she fought it.

 

“C'mon, baby,” Angel grunted in her ear as he slipped his hand under her skirt and thong. Buffy felt his fingers delve into her heat and she gasped as his fingers slid in easily, realizing that she was wet as hell. Probing her gently, Angel grinned as he pinned her to the wall. She was ready for him. More ready than she ever would be.

 

Angel tore her thong away from her, causing the small strip of the underwear she wore to rub roughly in her crack. Crying out in half pain and anticipated pleasure, Buffy looked up to find Angel staring at her, his eyes clouded with something she could easily identify with. Deep, carnal need.

 

When Angel leaned forward to kiss her, Buffy had no qualms and responded with more fury than before. Grunting in her mouth as she bit down on his tongue, Angel lifted her against the wall, his hand snaking between them to free himself of his last restraint. Pushing his boxers and pants down, Angel felt a small note of relief as his cock bounced free. Finally. What he had been waiting for for the last two days.

 

Rubbing the head of his hard penis against her soaking cleft, Buffy whined into his mouth, arching against his touch. She felt wonderful freedom as he lifted her higher, preparing to fuck her into the wall, and her arms gained relief. Twisting her wrists around so she could grip the chains, Buffy pushed her hips down, an insistent sign for him to start.

 

As the head of his cock rubbed against her clit, Buffy's body jerked and she pulled away from his mouth, crying out as her body jerked once more. “Please...” she whimpered.

 

“Yeah,” Angel grunted once more, lifting her higher and away from his dick. “You want to be fucked, don't you?”

 

“Yes,” Buffy keened, her head rolling back, her hair tickling her back.

 

“Say it, Buffy,” Angel ground out.

 

“I want you to fuck me,” she whimpered.

 

“What?”

 

“Fuck me!” Buffy finally yelled, throwing her head forward to glare at him. She never got the chance as he brought her body back down hard, thrusting into her waiting body. Buffy cried out in surprise as his hard length filled her to the hilt. She felt his balls rest against her before he pulled back out and thrust home once more.

 

Buffy moaned, tugging on the chains as pleasure swamped her body. Angel sighed happily, grunting with exertion as he began a steady pace, his hips hitting hers hard enough to send her against the hard stone behind her. Buffy pushed her hips to meet his, her head falling forward in search of his mouth. He met her half way and forced his tongue between her lips, beginning a sensual fight with hers. Buffy moaned into his mouth as he forced her body to slide up and down the stone behind. She ignored the pain blossoming from her back.

 

They stayed against the wall, thrusting against each other in a hard rhythm for what seemed like forever before Buffy felt the beginnings of her building pleasure. “Oh, yes, yesyesyes...”

 

Angel felt her change and began thrusting harder. Buffy threw her head back, her eyes closed and his mouth sought out her nipple. Wrapping his lips around the hard rock, he swirled his tongue around it, delighting in her gasps of pleasure. But he refused to touch the hardening nipple.

 

“Oh, God,” Buffy gasped. “Please, Angel... I'm so... close!...”

 

He felt the beginnings of the fluttering of her walls and took pity, biting down on it hard. Buffy cried out before she felt her entire body burst as her orgasms hit her over and over. Shaking, Buffy cried out Angel's name before another intense orgasm swept over her body. Gasping, Buffy felt a tear slip from her eye as the feeling became too intense and she let a cry of distress leave her lips.

 

Angel paid no mind though as he sought his own pleasure. Thrusting into her shallowly, he pushed her into the wall harder as his own orgasm fast approached. Slipping his hand between them once more, he fingered her clit and Buffy gasped in pleasure and faint pain as another orgasm rocked her body before he jerked against her with a few more thrusts and spilled his seed inside her. He howled his pleasure as he rode out of his orgasm, thrusting into her a few more short times before finally stopping.

 

Leaning against her slight frame, Angel breathed heavily into her hair, his eyes closed as his pleasure-filled mind fought for control. Buried inside her to the hilt, Angel took several deep breaths before pulling back. Buffy's head laid against his shoulder, her entire body limp as she panted shallowly, her eyes fluttering. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself a few more minutes to relax before finally pulling free from her tight hole. For such a rumored whore, she was certainly tight as hell.

 

With one hand keeping her steady against the wall, he pulled back and slipped his limp cock back inside his boxers, pulling his pants back up to rest on his hips. Sighing, he looked over to see his little blonde captive asleep against the rock.

 

With a ghost of a smile upon his face, Angel reached up to unhook the chains and caught her as she fell into his arms. Realizing that she still might have hatched a plan of escape, Angel quickly freed her wrists and took his shirt off. Lifting her gently, he put his t-shirt over her head. Re-locking her wrists, Angel tied them up so that she could rest easily on the floor.

 

Stepping back, Angel stared at her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful and serene. The opposite of her fiery nature.

 

Leaving the room, Angel realized he felt more satisfied than he had in a while. Grinning, he knew that this was going to be a routine he would enjoy immensely.

 

 

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The next time Buffy awoke, she saw one of Angel's lackies sitting in a chair across from her, next to the staircase. Next to him on the floor was a tray of food and Buffy realized that she probably hadn't eaten in what seemed like days.

 

Sitting up, Buffy stretched, feeling a sore twinge come from her crotch, ignoring the leering look cast her way from the hulking man sitting before her, noticing that she was on the floor instead of standing. And she was covered in a very large t-shirt. Seeing that it was Angel's, Buffy didn't know what to think.

 

Dismissing it for a later time, she looked back at the man. He didn't move. She raised her eyebrows and asked sarcastically, “Well, am I expected to just hop up and get that from you or are you going to bring it to me?”

 

As if jolting from a faraway land, Riley Finn focused his full attention on the blonde sitting on the cold floor. If she wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She seemed to glow despite the dirt that covered her. And what he wouldn't give to be able to fuck her into the ground right then and there. Feeling his dick harden in his loose pants, Riley stood and grabbed the tray of food, bringing it to her.

 

It was then that he noticed the small stains on the floor. White, bright stains. Feeling a twinge of jealousy, Riley realized that Dravers had probably gotten to her first. Not that he didn't understand, but his honest thinking was that that prick shouldn't be afforded anything nice. He was a bastard to the core and the fact that he got to fuck the beauty before him was bullshit.

 

Handing the tray to the Buffy Summers before him, Riley turned back around and sat in his chair, resigning himself to his fantasies of her magically being free of chains and floating over to him to suck him off. What he wouldn't give to see her small, pink lips wrapped around his cock.

 

Buffy watched as the man handed her the tray and turned to sit back down. It didn't escape her attention the obvious hard on he had. She smirked. Then looked down at her tray only to see that it was all hand foods. Wow, she mused to herself, they must really trust their hostages.

 

Picking up the sandwich, Buffy ate quickly, her hunger overcoming her. As she finished, she took a deep gulp of the glass of water she had before setting the tray on the floor. She watched as the man came over and took it once more, depositing it next to him again. She watched as he glanced down at his watch. They must be taking turns.

 

“So,” Buffy began, “What do you do for fun around here?”

 

Riley smiled. He could think of a few things. But he didn't answer. He watched as she rolled her eyes.

 

“Strong silent type, eh?” Buffy asked. Still no response. Frowning, she sighed deeply, leaning back against the rock. Her thoughts returned to Angel. And what the hell was going on. Why in the fuck was Spike doing this? What was in it for him? And how did they know each other? Everything she had known had been a lie. The entire time she had been working for Spike, all he had thought about was how to get her... she didn't know. All she did know was that she was being held against her will and she knew that no one would worry. She had so few friends. And she rarely saw them, if at all. If she was missing for a year, they wouldn't worry. She usually was.

 

Ten years? Maybe.

 

Buffy felt tears rising in the back of her throat and she closed her eyes in embarrassment as her vision blurred. She couldn't cry. She was stronger than this. She knew it. But she suddenly felt so hopeless. She didn't know what to do. And she usually did.

 

Swallowing heavily, Buffy opened her eyes. Sniffling softly, she forced herself to calm, exercising a breathing technique that her friend Willow had taught her. Just as quickly as thoughts of her friend filled her head, she pushed them away. Now wasn't the time. 

 

Breathing in once more, Buffy forced herself to think of something less emotionally traumatic. Her mind drifted over mundane things, thinking about a baseball game she was planning on going to from what day it was and in what month. Then her eyes snapped open.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered, closing her eyes and cradling her head in her hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...”

 

Father's Day. In two days. This wasn't happening. Not right now. Not when things were finally settling around her. What was she going to do? She couldn't miss it this year. Not this year. Not when they were finally talking again. Buffy bit her tongue when a tear slipped from her eye, fighting the sob that rose in her throat. Not this year.

 

Rupert Giles, her beloved uncle, had forever been the only person she had considered a father. After her father had abandoned her mother, herself and her sister, Giles had swooped in and saved the day. Hank Summers had decided that his current family wasn't what was for him and he had left them, leaving to Spain with his secretary of the time. He'd taken everything he could, knowing that Joyce couldn't say a thing towards him because of her poor money status. Giles had taken care of them afterwards. He'd become a father to her and Dawn and had always been there, unlike her absentee father who had sent them a couple of bucks in the mail every three years.

 

Buffy was fourteen and Dawn was twelve when Joyce was diagnosed with leukemia. She died five months after that and her daughters were sent to live with Giles in his large mansion. Things weren't the same after that.

 

And then Buffy had grown up.

 

Thanks changed when Buffy moved out. She changed. After Joyce's death, she collapsed within herself and she started associating herself with dangerous people. That was how she met Faith, who was the girlfriend of a Spike Pryce. Buffy didn't actually get to shake Spike's hand until she'd known Faith for two years. She would never forget those couple of years she spent living in Faith's abandoned apartment while she stayed with Spike. She remembered Faith coming back in the middle of the night sometimes with bruises and bloody marks on her body. She would joke around about it and make sure Buffy didn't make it into a big thing, but Buffy knew. Spike enjoyed the pain. He enjoyed receiving just as much as giving. And she hated it. And then Faith had disappeared one night. A letter and empty drawers greeted her one morning and she never heard from Faith again. She never knew what happened to her, whether Spike had anything to do with it or Faith just ran away. But Buffy couldn't see Faith just getting up and taking off. She was a fighter. Not a runner.

 

It was three months later that she finally met Spike face to face. Something happened. Buffy couldn't say now but all she remembered was Spike offering her a job and Buffy accepting. It had been simple at first. Just run a simple errand, collect a few items, and return them to her new boss. But it wasn't as smooth as one would want. Buffy's mind had blocked out most of the images from that night because all she knew about it was that she had shot three men and escaped unharmed with her life. The nightmares that had plagued her for the months after that Buffy would never forget. Ever.

 

She had been weary of Spike after that. She knew nothing of the inside business, growing accustomed to doing what she was told. She soon learned how to defend herself, how to fight, how use every single weapon that Spike ever offered to her. It was a simple life that Buffy enjoyed because of the direct emotional disconnection.

 

But her uncle hated it. By the time that Buffy returned home to talk to her surrogate father, Dawn had moved out and wasn't talking to Buffy. There was huge fight that night. Nothing physical but the neighbors had called the police because of the yelling. They had argued heatedly about Buffy's new job and Buffy had defended herself to the end. She didn't want a normal job. Her life wasn't normal anymore. She wasn't. And Giles hated it.

 

They cut off all connections afterwards. Three years later Buffy got a call from the family lawyer alerting her to the fact that her sister had been murdered and three days later the same person called to inform her that her father had faced the same fate. The fact that they had been murdered didn't escape Buffy and she had known who had done it because a mere few weeks earlier, she had been in some nasty business with some of Spike's greater known enemies. Buffy didn't shed one tear, but exacted the revenge where she knew it was deserved. She avenged her family's death, without one word from her uncle.

 

It remained that way for the next four years until six months ago. Rupert Giles called Buffy and asked to meet her. Apparently he had been in a car accident and had almost lost his life in surgery and he came to the conclusion that life was too short. They had met and Buffy had finally released everything she'd been holding in. She cried the whole night, talking to her uncle about her life and the deaths of her immediate family. They held each other and Buffy felt safe and secure for once in her life when it wasn't herself doing the securing.

 

They talked every couple of weeks about what was going on with them. Giles forced himself to accept her life and made sure to let her know that. Buffy was pleased with him and herself. It had been wonderful. And now she was going to miss the most important day of the last couple of months of talking to h im because her asshole boss wasn't being straight with her.

 

“Not now,” Buffy mumbled to herself, shaking her head in denial. Then she looked up from where she had it rested and yelled, “Not fucking now!”

 

Riley jerked in surprise. He stared at the little blonde before him. She was shaking and there were tears streaming down her face. It was as if she had done a complete one-eighty. She looked miserable and damn angry.

 

“I want to see Dravers,” Buffy demanded in a low voice, staring straight at her guard. “Get that asshole down here right now!”

 

“I'm sorry, Miss Summers, but he can't-”

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” Buffy screamed, standing on shaky legs. She advanced on the large man but only got two feet before the chains yanked her back. “I want to talk to Dravers right now or so fucking help me...”

 

Riley looked on amused. He leaned back in the chair he sat and stared at her standing form a couple of feet from him. “What are you going to do? Attack me?”

 

Buffy saw red when he started chuckling. She let loose a loud scream. Lifting her arms to the sky, she screamed her anger and her pent up rage, her pain that she couldn't see Giles. Turning around, she punched the wall three times, ignoring the pain in her hand. She heard small cracks but ignored it all as she yelled unintelligibly. She didn't notice Riley stand in alarm and bolt up the stairs as she sank to her knees, curling in on herself. It was if everything came to a head. She suddenly felt like she was losing everything she'd ever worked for, she felt like she was losing her entire family all over again and she had never felt so alone.

 

Buffy began crying, tugging at her hair as she felt horrible pain blossom in her hand and in her heart.

 

 

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“Mr. Dravers!”

 

Angel's head shot up as Riley shouted out in the large compound that was his house. Standing up from where he sat behind his desk. he walked around it and moved to open the double doors blocking him from the rest of the house. They burst open before he could reach them and he saw a panting Riley Finn as he looked at him with alarm.

 

“It's the Summers girl,” he panted, bending over and leaning on his knees, craning his head to look at his boss.

 

“What?” Angel demanded. Riley shook his head. Angel grabbed the lapels of Riley's shirt and pulled him up to his face. “What the fuck is wrong?”

 

“She's... I don't know, she's freaking the fuck out.”

 

Angel dropped Riley to the floor as he stepped over him. It took him less than a minute to reach the door that led to the staircase that led to where Buffy resided. Opening the door, he descended down the stairs quickly as quiet sobs reached his ears. The sight that greeted him scared the shit out of him.

 

Buffy lay on the floor on her knees, bent over where her head rested in her hands. One of her hands was completely covered in what looked like her own blood and it was crippled. He looked up and saw where she must have hit the wall. Small bits of stone had been dislodged and he saw blood all over it. She was pulling on her hair as she cried into her knees.

 

“God dammit,” he murmured, not noticing Riley come up behind him at the top of the stairs. Angel moved forward slowly, finally reaching her. Angel leaned down next to her and rested his hand on her back as he asked, “Buffy?”

 

“Don't...” She hiccuped. “... fucking touch... me.” Buffy moved away from the warm hand on her back, hating the feeling of it trying to comfort her.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

Buffy looked up and Angel winced, his eyes traveling down the visible parts of her body. She was bruised and bloody, her eyes were bloodshot and her face was wet from her tears. She was a vision of abject misery. Angel shuddered, images from the past filtering through his mind.

 

Buffy glared at her captor. “Let me go,” she rasped. “I... I can't stay here. Not now! Not now...”

 

It was then that Buffy realized how deeply affected she was by her family's issues. By her mother's untimely death and her sister and father's murders, no matter how much she hated him. And now she would lose Giles... surely he wouldn't forgive her for missing this day.

 

Angel stared at her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Just let me go!” Buffy screamed, standing up on her knees and throwing herself at him. She pounded her good fist into his chest as his arms moved to wrap around her before she pounded her broken fist into him. She screamed as she felt blinding pain in her hand as she felt it spread through her arm and fingers like electricity. She moved to curl in on herself, wrapping her arm around her wrist to protect the hand from further harm on instinct.

 

Angel stopped her, keeping her securely in his arms. He watched on as she started crying once more, seeming to fall in around herself. She didn't move as he placed her in his lap. They sat like that, neither moving as Angel tried to comfort her while she continued to cry and growl angrily at him for keeping her there.

 

It was twenty minutes later that she finally cried herself to sleep, her body tense and ready to wake and defend herself need be. Her hand clutched her wrist and Angel could see her fingers turning red from the exertion, even in her sleep. Sighing, he freed her wrists as best he could without disturbing her or her grip and picked her up into his arms. She seemed to relax a bit as she rested in his embrace.

 

He carried her up the stairs and stopped when he saw Finn standing at the top. He glared at him. “You should have fucking got me,” he hissed.

 

Riley stepped back. “But... sir, I did... “ he sputtered.

 

“Shut the fuck up and get William Pryce on the phone.” Angel began walking away, Buffy wrapped tightly in his arms when he turned back around quickly. “Better yet, just get his ass over here.”

 

Riley nodded, wondering what had happened and how he would be getting Pryce over there. It would be tough, but he also knew that Dravers would be royally pissed if he didn't.

 

Closing and locking the door behind him, Riley moved to the security office at the other end of the house.

 

 

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Angel gently placed the sleeping blonde on the queen bed in the guest room. Standing over her, he noticed that her hand was starting to dry. He was afraid that she had broken her hand or something. That wouldn't do.

 

Angel stared at her face. He stared at the far from peaceful expression on her features. She looked something a kin to afraid... she looked mad... but most of all she looked sad. There was a deep sadness on her face that Angel couldn't understand. It was if she had lost everything she held dear in the small amount of time they had been apart.

 

Shaking his head, Angel moved away and into the small bathroom attached to the small guest bedroom. Closing the door behind him as to not disrupt the sleeping beauty, he moved to the large bathtub in the corner of the surprisingly large bathroom. Leaning over, he started the water, adjusting it to a hot temperature. He moved to open the large closet housing many bath salts, scented oils, shampoo and conditioner, arrays of different scented soaps and body gels. Choosing some jasmine scented items, he went about preparing a bath for the woman he and Spike had held captive for the last three days.

 

The bedroom had originally been meant for Buffy to reside in. Angel had set up two cameras in the bedroom and one in the bathroom. He had everything she could possibly need in the bathroom. In the bedroom, there was only the bed, a TV stand that had a small television on it. There was a wooden table in one corner with a wooden chair and a tall dresser on the other side that had every piece of lingerie he could come up with.

 

He had planned on seducing her into many things, and had figured that that plan was going to be easier than he had originally thought, but after this little episode, he feared that things were about to go a little more than haywire.

 

Turning the water back off, he inhaled the delicious smell of jasmine in the bathroom, looking forward to smelling the scent on Buffy's soft skin. Then reality sank in and he winced at the image of her disheveled form in his mind.

 

Shaking it from his head, he left to fetch his little captive.

 

 

 

 

 

Part Two

"Change of Scenery"

 

“You may have broken your hand.”

 

Silence answered him.

 

Angel sighed in frustration as he watched the girl before him. She didn't respond as she stared at the floor to Angel's right. She cradled her crippled hand against her chest as she pursed her lips and curled away from him where she sat on the counter top of the bathroom in between Angel's arms as he leaned before her.

 

Shaking his head, Angel turned around towards the bathtub that had grown lukewarm since he had left. Reaching into the warm water, he pulled the stopper and watched as it began to slowly drain. Sighing as he stood, he shook his arm. Then turned back around to face her.

 

Buffy paid him no mind, instead choosing to stare at the floor as he moved around. Her hand ached painfully where it rested against her chest and she remembered his heavy bulk landing on it. She remembered him trying to gently wake her up and her lashing out at him in her self-induced rage. She remembered the desperate need to be free. The desperate need to make him pay for keeping her here when she could be with her uncle.

 

They had struggled for what seemed like forever to Buffy's exhausted mind before it all came to a screeching halt when he accidentally landed on her hand when she had kicked him. Buffy couldn't remember every screaming so loud in her life as she literally felt the bones in her hand crack some more. She remembered Angel attempting to take her in his arms to comfort her when she let loose a string of curse words lost in her teary sobs, but she would have none of it.

 

It took him twenty minutes to finally coerce her into letting him pick her up and settle her on the counter top. And there she sat. Her mind was numb. She felt numb. It was as if after everything she had had to go through in her life was small compared to the innocent pain of not being able to see a loved one on a special day. The death and murders that passed her eyes daily were nothing to her at that moment as she thought of what Giles would think when she didn't show up, didn't call, just didn't do anything. Would he think she abandoned him... again? Would he simply give up on her in that moment in time? Think she really didn't give a shit about him?

 

Tears welled in her eyes as her train of thought led her to a place she didn't want to go. Especially not in front of her captor. Buffy wanted to curl up and die when she thought about what he might do after her breakdown. What Spike might do. Shuddering, Buffy realized she had never felt as fragile and small as she did at that moment.

 

Ignoring Angel's odd stare, Buffy swallowed and attempted to clear her mind. She couldn't do this right now. He would have to leave her some time. She would breakdown then.

 

Buffy jerked as Angel touched her arm softy, calling her from her thoughts. She realized that the tub had drained and that it was once again filling with steaming water. But she didn't take her eyes off the man before her. She didn't trust him, not that she ever really did. “What?” she whispered.

 

“I want you to take a bath,” he said in a gentle tone. His hand had never left her arm and she moved it out of his reach. He rolled his eyes out of habit and was about to snap at her before he realized something and Buffy furrowed her eyebrows as he once again changed before her. His eyes grew softer and his entire demeanor and posture seemed intent upon a thing she couldn't identify.

 

It only made her more weary.

 

Moments passed as they stared at each other and Buffy realized that he wasn't going to leave. But before she could order him out, his hand moved towards her again and her eyes switched to watch it as it touched her once more, his fingertips sending chills down her spine. They disappeared under the shirt sleeve as the other moved to lift it off her head. Buffy barely moved as his hands worked. She was stunned into silence. Why was he being so gentle? So soft with her, like she would break? What had happened to the harsh man she had met only what seemed a few hours ago? Who had screwed her against a stone wall as she hung from it by chains?

 

Buffy felt her body instinctively lean into his touch as both his hands were suddenly under her shirt, running up her back. She swallowed hard, leaning into his chest as he stepped between her legs. Her broken hand rested against the counter top at a weird angle, but neither paid any mind to it as they were lost in the other. The running water in the tub seemed to add a surreal background music as Buffy pushed her face into his neck as he moved to cradle her in his arms. Buffy shivered as she realized that she felt... secure. Safe. Like nothing in the world could get to her, let alone hurt her. And she felt a stab of pain as she realized how very untrue that was because he was one of the very sources of it.

 

Buffy pushed against his chest with her good hand, shaking her head in protest. But he would have none of it. He stepped away, but only enough to begin to take the shirt she wore off before she pushed harder. She heard something escape from low in his throat, something that sounded like it was caught between a groan and a growl. She glared at him with bloodshot eyes.

 

“I can do it myself,” she said, her voice sounding annoyed, yet utterly helpless even to her own ears. And she hated it. This wasn't her. What had happened to the strong assassin she had become under Spike's watchful eye? Where was the woman who could easily kick this guy's ass into the next room? Buffy found that she was nowhere to be found and she felt even more lost.

 

Angel glared right back into her red eyes. He wasn't going to be intimidated. Not by her. He gripped her elbow in his hand and easily kept her still. He could tell that her body was too weak to put up a fight from the drugs, the lack of decent food and sleep. Also from her little outraged scene earlier. She wouldn't be able to do anything and he allowed himself a moment to revel.

 

“Don't fucking touch me,” Buffy hissed as she moved to take his hand off her elbow. She was too late as his hard grip and her prying fingers caused her broken hand to rock hard against the hard counter and she cried out in pain, her body instantly moving into a fetal position to protect herself from anymore pain. But once again Angel stopped her and she whimpered in her obvious helplessness.

 

“Calm down,” Angel said in a strong voice and Buffy shook her head, but didn't move. She felt his bruising grip lighten. “I'm not leaving.”

 

“I can-“

 

“I don't give a flying fuck what the hell you can do by yourself. I'm not leaving and that's final.” Buffy looked down, unable to meet his eyes. She wasn't in any condition to get up and fight. She was exhausted and she felt her stomach growl in hunger. Hadn't she just ate?

 

Ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand to the best degree she could, Buffy allowed him to slowly undress her, ever mindful of the fact that her hand was in need of medical attention. She didn't say a word as he removed her skirt. He turned back around to turn off the water and she looked up as he once again added all the oils and bubbles. She had a fleeting thought about running to the door, fleeing for her life, but remembered that she was naked, her hand was broken and he was much stronger and less tired than she was at the moment.

 

Buffy gasped as he turned and picked her up into his arms as if she was light as a feather. He had rolled his sleeves up as high as his shirt would allow and she absently noted that he was most likely going to be getting very wet. Well, he deserves it for taking me into his little dungeon and then bathing me as if I were his precious girlfriend. Bastard.

 

Buffy hissed as he settled her into the steaming water, her skin reacting in chills and rising goose bumps. She felt, rather than saw, her skin redden with irritation as she leaned against the back of the large tub, her entire body swallowed by hot water.

 

“Too hot,” she whimpered, not noticing that he had left her broken hand hanging on the opposite side of the tub. The blood she had accumulated from her various scratches had dried already and she felt the hot air soothing them a bit.

 

“You'll get used to it,” Angel said absently as he raised his wet hands to lift her long hair out of the water and drape out of it. Buffy's eyes closed as her body relaxed into the water as it soothed her muscles and cleaned away at the dirt covering her. She wouldn't admit to him how absolutely wonderful it felt to be in the heat.

 

Several minutes passed as Angel gently washed away at the grime that coated her body with a large loofah and some soap that smelled absolutely delicious. Her eyes never opened as he softly asked her to sit up so he could scrub her back, then proceeded to wash her hair before washing it out.

 

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her tone discernable as she once again settled down in the cooling water.

 

She opened her eyes in time to see Angel shrug, but not answer. She watched as his face shuttered her out from his inner thinking and she wondered what the hell was going on.

 

“What happened downstairs?” he asked softly, not meeting her eyes as he reached under the water to scrub her skin with the loofah, his skin never touching hers. Buffy closed her eyes as his words echoed in her mind. Oh, what had happened. It was as if his seemingly innocent question had unlocked the box in her brain where she had locked all her thoughts. A tidal wave of pain attacked her and she felt tears rise in her eyes. Everything was right with the world only a few short days ago.

 

“None of your business,” she said coldly. A few tense moments later and Buffy felt something in her snap. She whipped her head around to meet his eyes and found him staring at her. She glared at him. All motion stopped except for her lips. “Why are you doing this to me? Why am I here?”

 

“You're going to have to take that up with Spike,” Angel said in a neutral tone, resuming his actions once more, breaking eye contact. “I'm only helping him out as a favor.”

 

“A favor?” Buffy spat, jerking her leg away from his hand. He sighed and looked up to meet her eyes. “Is that what you call this? Is that how you two operate? This is a favor?”

 

Angel stared at her and Buffy growled in frustration before attempting to stand up. She unthinkingly moved to use both her hands to balance herself before she realized her mistake too late. Buffy cried out brokenly as she slipped back into the tub of water and Angel instantly moved to stop her from sinking underneath. Before she could stop them, she felt tears running down her face and she looked down into the water where she saw the blood on her hand melting away and Angel's fingers gripping her sides.

 

“I just want to go home,” Buffy whispered sadly, her shoulders shaking. “I just want to see Giles.”

 

Angel had no idea what she was whispering about. It was a basic rule between him and Spike. He never knew more than he should about the girls he kept for his stepbrother. It mostly caused too much unneeded trouble and Angel knew he would regret it when he made a mental note to figure out who Giles was. He ignored the streak of jealousy at the whisper of another man. He knew now wasn't the time and he also knew that this was not the kind of girl he should be getting hooked on.

 

“Shhh,” he cooed as her tears subsided after a long moment, situating her as he moved to take her mangled hand into his own. “I'm going to wash the blood off, then I'll call a doctor to come look at it.”

 

Buffy sniffled and closed her eyes, wishing that she could jerk her hand away and crawl inside herself. But she was too scared of the sure pain that would take over her. And a part of her didn't want his gentle hands to stop touching her.

 

She felt sick.

 

Ten minutes later, Buffy was standing out of the tub, watching it drain with a towel wrapped around her. Her blonde hair with small streaks of red clung wetly to her back and she couldn't tell whether her face was wet from the tears or the water she had recently been in. Angel dried her off best he could, ignoring the fact that the most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing before him, naked. Now wasn't the time.

 

“I'll be back,” he said into her ear as he squeezed her hair in the towel, sucking all the excess water into the cotton.

 

Buffy didn't move as he left her standing naked in the middle of the bathroom, her eyes never leaving the tub. The water had drained and she saw traces of dirt on the white walls. It would have to be cleaned.

 

She felt him behind her. Buffy felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as he touched her lower back. “Raise your arms,” he whispered in her ear and she did as he asked. Ever mindful of her hand, he gently slipped the tank top over her arms and head, down to cover her chest. He placed his hand on her hips to turn her around to face him. He bent down before her and told her to lift her legs as he slid on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms.

 

Standing to face her, he led her to the counter. She stared at herself in the mirror. She looked tired and... dead. She saw Angel behind her out of the corner of her eye. He was looking at her and she couldn't read his eyes. She looked at him through the mirror and he met her gaze, lifting a brush. He was then focused on brushing out her hair, gently untangling it and stopping when he saw her wince in pain as he pulled too hard.

 

Before she knew it, she was being led back into the bedroom. She saw that the sheets had been changed as they stared at her in their dark setting. There was no blood nor dirt and she noted that the drapes to her window were closed tightly so no light could shine through. Only the bathroom light was guiding them as he motioned for her to sit, then to lay back.

 

She faintly heard him tell her that he was going to go call a doctor to come up and take care of her hand. She didn't respond and he moved to close the door to the bathroom so only a sliver of light was there. He then proceeded to leave. She heard him lock it from the other side before she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

 

 

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Angel saw the doctor out before returning to his office. It had taken him an hour to find a trustworthy doctor, then another for him to come out to his mansion and take care of Buffy. It seemed she had broken three bones and fractured two others, most likely from when he had landed on it, and he had put it in a temporary cast until she could come in and get a more permanent one. Buffy never stirred, let alone woke upon his inspection. He also gave Angel some pain pills for her to take, never asking once what had happened.

 

Angel was glad, not feeling up to covering his tracks. He faintly remembered asking Finn to call Spike and realized that the peroxide blonde had yet to show, that is if Finn had actually called.

 

Feeling a stab of fatigue run through his body, Angel called up Spike's personal cell phone and left a short message.

 

“Spike, we need to talk. It's about Buffy Summers. Get over here as soon as you can.”

 

Angel then proceeded to grab a bottle of liquor and turn on one of the small screens that littered his office as he watched the blonde sleep, his mind desperate to escape.

 

 

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Buffy rolled over, pressing her face into the soft pillow that lay beside her, breathing in deeply. It was smelt like fabric softener and a trace of lavender. Her mind allowed her that small moment of reprieve before she remembered exactly where she was and what had happened before she had fallen asleep.

 

Buffy sat up quickly and brought her hand to her forehead as a wave of dizziness attacked her. Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and saw the white cast on her arm and realized that the pain she had experienced last night was no longer there. Buffy tested the strength of the cast in her other hand, realizing that it was something temporary and that she would have to go to a doctor to get the real thing. And that meant she wouldn't be punching anyone in the near future.

 

Buffy threw back the light blanket that had been thrown over her sometime when she had been sleeping. Crawling off the large bed, Buffy immediately ran to the door. Reaching out with her immobile hand, she shook her head and knew that she would have to get used to the foreignness of using her left hand. Jerking on the door knob, Buffy groaned in disappointment as the lock didn't budge.

 

Ignoring the rumbling in her stomach and instead focusing on her calling bladder, Buffy entered the large bathroom where she had just been a matter of hours ago. Kneeling down, Buffy opened the cabinets and began rummaging through the items she spotted in there. She frowned as she realized that there was enough feminine items there to last her at least four months. Shaking off the unease, she stood and gave into nature as she sat on the toilet.

 

Spotting the blood on the side of the tub farthest from her as she stood, Buffy felt her stomach turn as she flushed the toilet and ran out of there.

 

She refused to allow herself to think about Angel's odd behavior from the man who built himself on being ruthless and unforgiving, the one she had read about in the file her deceiving boss had delivered to her. She remembered with longing standing outside the club that night, remembered the freedom.

 

Sighing deeply, Buffy looked around at her surroundings. The room was definitely drab. There was no personality. It had only the most basic of items. Furrowing her brow at the large dresser and wondering what was in it, she approached it. She found that the top four drawers contained simple clothing such as sweats and t-shirts for her to wear and the fourth down was completely filled with lingerie of all degrees. Everything she could possibly think of. Shutting the drawer in disgust, Buffy tried the last two and found them locked shut. Punching it with the side of her fist, Buffy growled in frustration.

 

Standing up, she approached the bed and laid back on it. Rolling onto her side, she closed her eyes in hopes of once more surrendering herself to sleep when she heard the lock on the door becoming unfastened and the door swinging open. Buffy shot up from where she lay and stared as Angel and a large guard, the one who had been witness to her breakdown, entered.

 

Ignoring the once again leering man dressed in black, Buffy focused instead on Angel. She glared at him as he sat down on the bed.

 

“You're awake,” he said calmly and Buffy remembered the uttered words before he had taken her against the wall. She instinctively curled in on herself at the memory.

 

“Yes,” she said blandly, refusing to elaborate on her state any further. He nodded to the other man and he immediately left. Then she focused on the man before her. He looked terrible, but nonetheless beautiful. Feeling the urge to smack herself for thinking such a thing, especially in her situation, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes and his frazzled appearance underneath the wet hair and the changed clothes.

 

Neither spoke for several minutes and Buffy shifted under his heavy gaze, turning her head to look anywhere but him. She heard him sigh.

 

“I asked Spike to come up and talk to you. He should be here within the hour.” Buffy's head snapped to look at him.

 

“I have no desire to see that bastard, right now... if you don't mind,” she said angrily, narrowing her eyes at him. “I can barely stand you. I don't think I would be able to control myself if I saw that asshole.”

 

Angel rolled his eyes, turning his gaze cold. “You really don't have a choice in the matter.” He stood and moved to the table where Finn had set down a tray with breakfast, a small container of pills and a bottle of water. Picking it up, he set it on the bed, took out a pill and handed it to her with the bottle of water.

 

She stared at it like it was poison and scooted further away from him. He looked at her like she was crazy. “Do you honestly think that I would poison you right now?”

 

“I don't know,” Buffy shot back. “It's not like I have any real purpose for you jerks anymore.”

 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, Buffy. Knock it off and take the goddamn pill before I force it down your throat. It's going to help your hand.”

 

She met his gaze defiantly and neither budged until Angel grabbed her left hand and forced the pill in between her fingers, throwing the water bottle against her thigh roughly. “Fine,” he snapped. “Suffer. That's your problem. Not mine.”

 

Buffy clenched her jaw and watched as he stood and crossed his arms, watching her. Looking down at the pill in her small hand, she decided that if it was poison or something equally bad, it couldn't be worse than sitting in the bedroom, having to endure whatever the hell she was going to go through.

 

Pursing her lips, Buffy brought the white pill to her mouth and opened the water bottle, forcing it down with a quick swallow of the water. Angel grinned in satisfaction and amusement.

 

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” he asked mockingly and Buffy flipped him off. He smirked. She realized that he had once again done a complete one-eighty from the man she had seen just a few moments ago. She briefly wondered if she had gone along without question, would he be sitting there somber and quiet as before, with a strange sadness in his eyes.

 

“Now eat,” Angel commanded. “Spike will be coming up to talk to you, whether you like it or not. There, whether you want to believe it or not, is a reason for you being here. Not eat the food and calm the fuck down while you do it.”

 

“Who the fuck-“

 

“Shh!” Angel snapped. “Don't you ever stop talking?”

 

“I might say the same damn thing to you, you prick,” Buffy yelled. Her voice lowered. “And I'm not hungry.”

 

“Yeah, okay. Starve to death. That'll do wonders for your little stick-like figure,” Angel snarked, his eyes traveling down her body. Despite the words that were meant to wound, he knew that he was aroused at the sight of her sleep rumpled body curled in on herself. He saw her heavy breasts clearly through the tight tank top and he desperately wanted... no, he couldn't want. Not now anyway.

 

Buffy opened her mouth in shock and offense as she stared at him. He smirked at her and she shrieked in anger, suddenly standing and hurling herself at him. Angel was surprised by her obvious reaction and didn't see her flying figure until too late, his arms coming up to catch her.

 

They both tumbled to the floor in a graceless heap, Angel's arms instantly coming up on instinct to protect his face as she threw her arm back to punch him. But she was too slow and he snatched her arm before she could, bringing her down on his chest as she straddled him. She burst into tears as she spoke, the droplets raining down her face in rivers and landing on his shirt.

 

“Goddamn you!” she screamed against his shoulder as she struggled against his hold, her broken hand lying limp on the floor, the little mobility left in her fingers allowing them to shake. “I hate you! I hate you... let me go... please...”

 

Angel felt his heart twist at her whispered words as her warm tears dropped down on him. His mind began a downward spiral as memories assaulted him and he whispered soft words in her ear in an attempt to comfort her.

 

“Please don't cry... don't cry... it's okay.”

 

Buffy sucked in a deep breath, inhaling his comforting scent, not noticing his arms cradling her against him instead of restraining. She hiccuped once before she felt his soft kisses against her temple starting a soft trail down her face. She lifted her head to allow him more contact and sighed softly as he kissed her wet cheek before finding her lips.

 

The kiss was the softest she'd ever tasted and she whimpered against his mouth, pushing against him more insistently. Keeping the kiss gentle, yet flaring with a reborn passion, Angel cradled her head between his hands as he gently licked along the seam of her closed lips. He felt her reluctantly open her mouth.

 

Buffy couldn't believe the sudden lust and need that roared through her body as he kissed her so softly. Hadn't she been mad at him? She couldn't remember her reasoning instead choosing to go along with whatever he planned. She slowly began returning his kiss, her fears and pain from earlier seeming to disappear into the back of her mind. She didn't think about the fact that she was going to miss her uncle, she had broken her hand and she was being cradled within her captor's embrace. Nothing registered with Buffy, too caught up in the physical rush she got whenever she touched him.

 

Both were content to kiss the other as they reveled in the other's presence. Something was happening and neither wanted to acknowledge it, yet wanted to feel it. Confusion settled on Buffy's chest as doubt and worry hovered above Angel's head.

 

Neither one of them made a move to touch the other past their lips.

 

Both were oddly content as they burned each other's pains, worries and anger into the other with the simple kiss.

 

Until Spike barged in, his loud knocking having failed to capture their attention. He picked Buffy up off of his stepbrother and threw her onto the bed, narrowly missing the tray of food, but knocking it off the bed with the force of the landing, crashing against the hard floor.

 

Curses flowed from Spike's mouth as he hauled Angel to his feet and shoved him out the door, leaving Buffy by herself, who stared at the door before wrapping her arms around her middle and started crying.

 

Never had she felt so open and fragile as she did at that moment and she hated it, yet couldn't get enough of the rush she felt whenever within that man's arms.

 

 

 

 

Part Three

"To Violate One..."

 

Warning... that's all I'm going to say is warning.

 

Buffy looked up the instant the door opened and her sobs stopped when she saw who was at the door. The smirking blonde stared back at her and she bit the inside of her cheek.

 

"Spike," she greeted mockingly, her voice full of a mixture of anger and growing hatred as he closed the door.

 

"Hello, Buffy," he said with a sigh as she leaned against the wall. "And how is my little whore doing?"

 

"Go to hell," Buffy snapped. "Who the fuck do you think you are, taking me?"

 

"Who the fuck do you think you are, fucking your captor?" Spike demanded of her. Pushing away from the wall as Buffy's eyes widened, he watched her remove her gaze from his and direct it towards the bedspread. He cocked his head. "Yeah... guilty as charged, eh?"

 

"Shut. Up," Buffy bit out as she looked back to him. "What... did you guys trade sex stories out in the hall? Taking turns, are we?"

 

Spike snorted. "Like I would. Angel does this with everyone. He gets off on it. But as far as you're concerned, I wouldn't feel too special. I wouldn't touch you. Even if you had a knife to my throat, begging me."

 

Buffy glared, ignoring the tinge of jealousy that reared its ugly head inside of her at his comment about Angel. Did they do this that damned often? Ignoring his blatant barb, she responded, "Why did you take me? Why are you keeping me? Why aren't I dead?"

 

"Now where would the fun be in that, love?" Spike asked, pushing his hands in his pockets from where he stood next to the bed. "When I could torture you all the live long day?"

 

"How could I forget... I know Faith didn't." Buffy felt a deep pain in her chest at her friend's name, at the mere thought of her. She remembered the night she didn't come back ever again. Keeping her gaze level with his, she clearly saw the bright blue of his eyes darken almost instantly.

 

"What?" he asked quietly.

 

Buffy stood from the bed, walking around to stand before him. She looked up at him, her face shuttered as she spoke, "I said... Faith didn't."

 

His hand struck out faster than she could react and her head snapped to the side, her cheek exploding with pain as he roughly grabbed her arms, hauling her closer to him as he forced her to look at him. His face a mere inch from hers, she felt his spittle as he spat, "Don't you fucking say her name."

 

"Why the fuck not?" Buffy demanded. "You were the one who hurt her."

 

"Shut up!" Spike roared, throwing her to the bed. Buffy gasped in anguish as she landed on her hand, causing pain to spike through her arm as she instinctively rolled off her arm to relieve it of her weight. Sitting up as quickly as she could, she moved to scramble across the bed only to be stopped by his large hand cupping her ankle and pulling her back to him. Buffy cried out as her top rode up to expose her midriff as he pulled her to the edge of the bed. Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the heavy bulk of her former boss rest on her body, forcefully spreading her legs to make room for his hips. Buffy cried out in resistance as she moved to push him away, her nails digging into his shoulders.

 

He merely grunted as he ripped her hands away from his body, forcing them above her head where he held her wrists together in one of his large hands. Buffy gasped in shock and disagreement as his hand slipped under her top. "Stop it, dammit!"

 

"Oh, little Buffy," Spike said with obvious amusement and scorn. "Why would you want that? If you can spread for that dick out there, I'm sure you can for me."

 

"Fuck you, Spike," Buffy spat, ignoring the hot tear that ran down her cheek. "Get the hell off of me!"

 

Spike growled angrily, pressing his free hand against her ribs painfully, pushing down in an attempt to stop her squirming. Buffy released a whimper as the pain in her body increased instantly and she allowed him to push her into the bed. Buffy closed her eyes as he smirked.

 

"Now that's a good little girl," Spike said, removing his hand and cupping one of her breasts. "Don't you fucking move, now... understand?"

 

Buffy didn't reply as he fondled her breast, but she could feel his heavy gaze on her face. Buffy shuddered. A moment passed in complete silence, Buffy's rigid body refusing to respond to his ministrations. Another silent moment hung in the air until Spike squeezed her wrists, his thumb pressing roughly into her temporary cast. The only sign Buffy showed that she acknowledged him was her face crinkling slightly from the slight pain that streaked through her arm. It didn't help that her arm was forced into the awkward position.

 

"C'mon, you stupid bitch," Spike growled against her face, his hot breath dancing across her face unpleasantly. Buffy finally opened her eyes and she met his eyes, seeing the slight triumph that clouded his blue orbs. She clenched her teeth before speaking.

 

"Is this what you did to Faith?" she asked quietly and Spike's amusement with the situation instantly turned into dulled rage as he shuttered his face. Clenching his jaw, he stared down at her.

 

"You're really are stupid, aren't you?"

 

Buffy's eye twitched at his response, but she ignored it. "Well?" she demanded. "Did you fuck Faith like this, you ugly bastard?"

 

"Shut up, Buffy," he said in a low voice and Buffy smirked at him.

 

"Why should I, Spikey?" she asked mockingly. "Did Faith ever ask you to stop?"

 

"Fuck you!" Spike shouted into her face, his hands finding their way to her neck instantly. Buffy's eyes widened in shock as his thumbs pressed into her throat, her hands coming down to grasp his wrists as he applied horrible pressure. "You don't know fucking anything!"

 

Buffy's mouth moved to let a cough out, but the breath wouldn't come. The instinct for survival overcame her senses as she started bucking against him. But her lack of oxygen only fueled her weakness and Spike easily overpowered her as she struggled against him. He glared down at her, his face set in concentration. A small squeak forced it's way through Buffy's lips and her eyes widened in alarm as black spots began dancing around the edges of her vision.

 

Urgent panic flashed in Buffy's mind as she attempted to fight his strong hold on her. She couldn't get away. She was stuck here. She was unable to save herself. Her mind blanked on ways to get away from him and she felt utterly helpless as he pushed against her delicate throat. She felt his fingers squeezing her neck, wrapped around it tightly.

 

Her arms became suddenly heavy as did her legs... a feeling of utter despair roared through her system and she wondered briefly why Angel didn't come in and save her. Where was he?

 

Then Spike's fingers were gone. Air rushed into her lungs like a dam breaking and she gasped it in, the sudden oxygen making her dizzy as she rolled to her side, coughing painfully. She could still feel his fingers around her throat and she touched her neck gently, her nails scraping against her skin as if attempting to rid herself of the feeling.

 

Then her pants were being tugged off of her roughly. Buffy's head shot up on instinct and another round of horrible dizziness attacked her as the vision before her blurred, but she knew what was happening. "No," she croaked as Spike ripped her pants from her body, throwing them to the floor. Buffy gasped in pain as he grabbed her thigh, digging his nails into her muscles. "No."

 

"Yes," Spike replied angrily, using her discombobulation against her as he pulled her against him again. He didn't speak as he pulled her legs apart and he unzipped his pants, pulling his semi-limp cock free. Stroking it evenly, feeling it grow harder, he stared at her face. She had her eyes closed and she was coughing violently, muttering no weakly in between. Spike chuckled humorlessly as he felt hot pre-cum against his fingers.

 

"Spike, please," Buffy whimpered, digging her fingernails into the bedspread around her. He hovered over her, his face emotionless as he positioned his hard dick at her entrance. And then he pushed into her violently, causing Buffy to scream from the hostile intrusion. It felt like his hardness was tearing her apart from within as he sank further into her dry channel. Buffy had never felt such horrible pain and it was all she could not to scream for help. No one would come.

 

The ghost of his fingers around her neck was forgotten as he pulled back out and thrust back into her, grunting. Buffy bucked against him, her head thrashing on the bed as she cried, her nails scratching at his clothed shoulders. Spike seemed to be paying no mind to her actions as he pulled back out.

 

It continued that way, neither receiving pleasure as Spike moved to increase his pace. There wasn't supposed to be for her, most certainly, but for him it was another story. Spike growled in annoyance as he moved to cup her cheek. Looking into her eyes gently and slowing his pace considerably, he spoke to her, "I know you like this, Buffy. I've known you for a long time and you can't lie to me."

 

Shock colored her features and she shook her head as more tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and down into her hair and the comforter. Spike felt his small level of patience snap as she shook her head and he grabbed a fistful of hair, forcing her face closer to his as he thrust into her harder.

 

"No," Buffy cried. "Please... stop... it hurts so much..."

 

"It will hurt a whole lot more if you don't get that fucking pussy dripping, you little bitch," Spike snarled against her lips before mauling them, forcing his tongue into her mouth. Buffy moved to bite it but he pulled back quickly, anger clouding his face like an oncoming thunderstorm. Buffy gasped again.

 

"Shut the fuck up, little Buffy, or I swear to God I'll slit that pretty throat of yours."

 

Buffy's tears increased.

 

It took several minutes of dry thrusts for Spike to realize that she was muttering something under her breath. Slowing once again, he leaned closer to her. And then he laughed out loud.

 

"Angel... Angel... help... please..."

 

"So that's it, huh?" Spike asked, his amusement returning ten fold. "You want your pussy of a man Angel, right?"

 

Buffy didn't respond, a sob escaping her mouth as she moved to escape into her mind. Spike smiled cruelly down at her, before looking over his shoulder towards the corner of the room. He chuckled. "Well this just got a whole lot better."

 

Turning back to her, he saw her bringing her arms up to cover her chest, her eyes shut tightly. He shook his head, moving to grab her arms. "Uh uh. I don't think so, sweetling. It would appear you've opened my eyes to a small revelation."

 

Slowing his pace considerably, he was almost barely moving within her and Buffy's pained posture relaxed noticeably, almost on instinct. Then she felt his cold fingers on her dry clit. They were slick and moved against her easily and she unconsciously arched into his touch, a small amount of pleasure blossoming within her belly. She immediately felt her hot juices surge forward as he manipulated her clit. And then reality hit her. What was he doing? And she was responding...

 

"No," Buffy gasped, moving to push his hand away. He shot her a hard look as he pushed it away, forcing her to lay back as he held her hand above her head. She struggled weakly as he pushed more insistently against her slick nubbin. "Stop."

 

Spike smirked, moving his hips back before thrusting into her roughly. She was so much wetter and Spike groaned with the physical rush her small body provided for him. "How about no," he grunted as he pulled back once more.

 

"No... Spike, stop it," Buffy whimpered. "Stop..." As Spike's thrusts increased, Buffy felt the now-familiar panic build in her chest once more. "Stop it!"

 

"Shut the hell up," Spike moaned, closing his eyes. Buffy glared at his shuttered face as some of her energy suddenly returned. Was she really here? Was this really happening to her? Bullshit.

 

"Get the fuck off!" Buffy hissed, digging her heels into the back of his thighs as she pushed her fingernails into his shoulders. Spike's eyes flew open and he pushed her hands off as his he moved to her legs. Digging his fingers into her thighs, he pulled her legs higher, forcing her to arch her hips into his as he pulled back. He smirked at her as her body contorted to his wishes.

 

"Baby likes it rough, eh?" he asked as his lips pulled back into a mocking sneer as he thrust deeper into her. Buffy gasped in pain and unwanted pleasure before squeezing her eyes shut. Why was this happening to her? Why had she even been in this damned business in the first damned place?

 

"Get... off me!" Buffy barked, bucking her hips against his. "Get the fuck away-"

 

Her words died into a strangled cry of pain as the cool metal of a dagger pressed into her thigh. She hadn't even felt him reach into his pocket to retrieve it. Hadn't felt his hand move from her leg. Hadn't felt anything until the shockingly cold knife pushed into her soft skin. Buffy's mind once more blanked as he pushed it into her flesh.

 

It wasn't lost on Spike that there was a camera in the room. It had slipped his mind upon his first entry into the room but he knew that Angelus would watch this sooner or later. It gave him a raw sense of joy to have that tiny bit of knowledge. It reminded him of what happened to Faith. Faith...

 

Pushing the sharp dagger into her muscled leg, Spike used his free hand to grab her chin and force her to meet his eyes as he squeezed it. Buffy gasped in pain as she met his icy eyes. "Now, now, Buffy," he said in a chillingly soft voice. "I don't think you want this," Spike ran the knife down her leg a short distance, leaving a bloody trail as Buffy released a cry from her throat, "to happen to that pretty little neck of yours."

 

The pained tears rose in her eyes quickly and they spilled free as Buffy closed her eyes.

 

"Right?"

 

Buffy gasped in air as he ran the knife back up her leg, leaving yet another trail of blood as her skin fell open.

 

"Buffy?"

 

"Stop... please," Buffy whispered. "I'll do whatever... just... stop..."

 

Spike smirked in triumph. "That's a girl."

 

 

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Spike sighed in satisfaction as he left the blonde's current room, locking the door behind him. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans, he walked down the hallway, a smug smile on his face, leaving behind the broken, sobbing form of Buffy Summers.

 

 

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Angel's eyes felt heavy. Heavier than they did five minutes ago. And five minutes before that. Slumped in his large office chair, he sat facing the large, curtained windows that overlooked the stone fountain that was the center of the gardens behind the large mansion. Lush green trees threw long shadows on the ground as the sun sank quickly, leaving the dark night sky to overtake the world.

 

But Angel couldn't see this. He instead chose to stare at the vast darkness that were his heavy curtains. His face was expressionless as he brought the heavy glass bottle in his right hand to his lips, pouring the amber liquid down his throat. He barely winced at the burning sensation.

 

He didn't take the time to notice the dark shadows befalling the room as his mind replayed the fight in the hall with Spike. Over something he had hoped was far over. But it never was. When would he learn? When would they learn?

 

Faith. His beautiful, dark Faith. With her dark, chestnut hair and stormy eyes. So full of fire and righteousness, something she deservedly got from their father. The only good thing either of them got out of the relationship with their so called dad. Angel could remember the exact events of the night Faith disappeared from his life forever, when Spike had to...

 

Shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut, Angel felt the dizziness attack his thoughts. The alcohol was supposed to be killing the pain, not his brain cells.

 

Setting the bottle on the ground, Angel brought a heavy hand up to his eyes, rubbing them roughly as he fought against the overwhelming need to sleep. It would be so easy just to close his eyes and pretend that everything hadn't gotten so fucked up with the damned blonde sleeping in the room where he kept her prisoner.

 

Whatever happened to just killing the stupid prisoner rather than keeping her for fun? Fun couldn't be had anymore.

 

Slowly turning his chair around, Angel slumped over his desk, laying his forehead against the cool wood. Several minutes passed of painful thoughts before Angel finally lifted his head and allowed himself to focus on the bright monitors glaring at him.

 

The pictures were blurry at first before they began to clear and it took the large glowering man exactly fifteen seconds to realize what he was seeing before he was up and out of his chair, storming out of the office clumsily.

 

The blinking image he had seen was a stilled picture of Spike thrusting into Buffy, her back arched in what he could only see as pleasure.

 

"Fuck me," he growled to himself as he made his way to her bedroom.

 

 

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Her cheeks were still wet with the dewy softness of her tears as Buffy stared at the blank wall. She was tired. Physically and mentally. Her entire being literally ached from what Spike had forced her to do earlier. Her leg throbbed with angry pain as she remembered the cool steel ripping into her skin, forcing her in complying with his every request.

 

Buffy felt dirty and used. She felt betrayed. But mostly, she felt sick. Sick that Spike had forced her. Raped her. Threatened her. Made her feel fear. Scared her.

 

Had it really been such a short time ago that she was strong and able and very willing to kick whoever's ass touched her in the wrong places. Now she was wilting beneath the pounding power of the two men holding her hostage. They were eliciting fear in her. Making her feel it and it made her want to throw up. The feeling was so foreign...

 

Wiping a limp hand across her face, Buffy readjusted her healing hand, sighing in contentment as it finally began to feel normal once more. After Spike had left, the deep throbbing in her hand hadn't left and only seemed to increase as time went on. The more she thought on it, the more she began to realize that it was probably due to her stress and anxiety. Something she couldn't really blame herself for.

 

As minutes passed by, Buffy felt her body beginning to relax, sinking deeper and deeper into the soft cotton. Her eyes grew heavier and the idea of sleep grew with a pleasant alacrity. Before she knew it, she was asleep.

 

 

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Angel unlocked the door softly, careful to keep quiet in case he was interrupting something. He wanted to catch them in the act so he could kill them both. How could Spike do this to him? How could Buffy?

 

The fact that Angel was so zealously jealous over the fact that she might be willingly sleeping with another man made him madder at the thought as he opened the door quietly. He was surprised to hear only silence. Heavy breathing rippled the air, but that was the only sign that there was a living being in the room.

 

Opening the door wider, Angel stepped in and shut it behind him. So Spike left. The bleached blonde was gone. Leaving Buffy all to him. As Angel locked the door, he began to think. What was Spike doing? Was this some kind of joke, this entire situation? If it was something as pathetic as that then Spike would find himself on the receiving end of a very long, sharp sword. Then in very little pieces which he would bury in concrete, keeping his head for a trophy.

 

Closing his mind to the gruesome thoughts, Angel focused on the small lump hiding underneath the comforter. What was this to her? Where did she fit in?

 

His train of thought was cut off as she shifted in her sleep, snuggling deeper into the warmth of the bed. She jerked slightly as she rested on her leg before moving quickly. Not enough to wake her fully.

 

The numb rage building in his chest was welcomed with open arms as he approached the bed. Who the hell did she think she was? Playing him like that? Making him think that there could have been just a little something? Clenching his jaw, Angel stood over her still body, looking down at her. She would learn. She would learn that fucking with him would result in eons of pain.

 

Reaching out with cold fingers, he slowly pulled the comforter back, revealing her lithe body to his eyes. She was covered in a think t-shirt and loosely fitted silk boxers. She was laying at an odd angle, looking wholly uncomfortable yet at the same time unwilling to move. The dark shadows of the room didn't allow him to see the deep bruises that were slowly beginning to cover her body, marks left by Spike.

 

It was because he couldn't see the marks that he moved forward, gently sitting on the bed, careful not to wake her.

 

"Buffy," he said in a soft whisper, staring at her face for any sort of reaction. There was none and she merely continued to sleep as if nothing was bothering her. He repeated her name, more aggressively as he laid his hand on her bare arm.

 

She moved quickly, twisting away from his grasp as she continued sleeping. He noticed the deep frown on her face as she whispered no.

 

"Buffy!" he whispered loudly and Buffy's eyes snapped open, wide and fearful as they darted to the dark figure looming over her. The panic built in her chest too quickly.

 

"No," she whimpered, turning around to scramble from the bed only to have her arm caught in the vice-like grasp of the man's hand. She shouted in surprise as he twisted back to wrestle free. But he was too strong and she quickly found herself pinned to his bed, his long legs moving to hold her chest down as his long fingers cradled her neck.

 

She opened her mouth to scream but his lips covered hers before she could utter a sound and she whimpered, attempting to pull back from the hard onslaught. As the man's tongue pushed past her closed lips, she realized that it wasn't Spike kissing her. It was Angel.

 

She screamed in the back of her throat as he bit her lip.

 

"Shut the fuck up, Buffy," Angel said, his voice colored with deep rage. Getting in close to her, he clenched his jaw. "What the fuck is going on with you and Spike?"

 

At Spike's name, Buffy's eyes widened and she looked around the room unconsciously, not noting her fear. That was when his fingers began to tighten.

 

"Angel," she whispered brokenly as he glared down at her.

 

"Don't you fucking lie to me," he growled breathlessly as he applied pressure to her neck. "Did you really think-"

 

"Plea... se..." she breathed, tears escaping her eyes slowly. "It hurts..."

 

Furrowing his brows, Angel smirked. "If you think that hurts..."

 

His voice trailed off as his eyes ticked down towards the usually pale skin of her neck. Underneath his fingers he could see dark, angry marks. He immediately removed his hands and Buffy moved to cradle her neck as she coughed violently. It hurt to move her hands as his heavy bulk rested on her chest, pinning her to the bed.

 

Angel reached forward to move her hands for a better look but she managed to dart out of his way. "Let me look," he argued as he looked down on her, his rage gone for the moment as the pieces began to fall into place. "What happened?"

 

"Fuck you," Buffy rasped, her voice hoarse with the oncoming tears. "Get off me!"

 

Angel moved off of her slowly and watched as she tugged the heavy comforter back over her body. He saw a flash of blood out of the corner of his eye as her leg disappeared and he moved towards her once more. "Buffy-"

 

"Don't touch me!" she hissed, turning her back to him. Angel frowned.

 

"Buffy..."

 

She didn't answer and Angel stared down at her before realizing the dark cloak of night surrounding them wasn't helping.

 

He crawled off the bed, moving towards the light switch. Flicking it on, the room was bathed in a healthy glow and both occupants winced from the flash before quickly adjusting. Angel walked towards her once more.

 

Buffy didn't speak as he moved towards the side of the bed she was facing and sat down, tugging on the comforter. "Let me see what's wrong."

 

"No," Buffy snapped, turning to look up at him, her eyes blinking rapidly as they adjusted to the light. "What were you expecting, a quick fuck? Well I'm not your fucking sex monkey or your punching bag! For either of you sick assholes!"

 

Pushing away her other words for the moment, Angel glared down at her. "You don't have a choice! Either you let me see or I make you. Which are you going to choose, you stubborn little..."

 

Buffy glared up at him as Angel returned her gaze just as heatedly. Several minutes passed before he began to reach for the comforter once more. She resisted him once before allowing him to pull it back. She closed her eyes as he took in her body.

 

Her neck had dark finger-shaped bruises that could only mean she had been choked. Her body was littered with the finger-sized marks and as his eyes landed on her leg, he paused. A long, deep scratch surrounded by a dozen smaller ones stood out against her alabaster skin. He sucked in a deep breath.

 

"Spike did this to you," he said, not questioning it. Buffy didn't respond but Angel could see the fine trembling in her body and her shaking lip as she fought not to cry. "Buffy..."

 

She nodded sadly as she opened her eyes. "Yeah. I let him fuck me and cut me," she said in clipped tones as she fought her tears. "Not so sexy anymore, am I?"

 

Frowning at her words, Angel ignored them as he stared down at her face, a different anger taking shape in his chest. It was then that he realized her had completely sobered. It was an odd feeling, the new rage combined with his sudden sobriety. It made it all the more real.

 

"You thought I slept with him, didn't you?" she asked. "You thought I fucked him. Well guess what, Angel? I don't need to fuck the boss to get a better pay."

 

Wincing at her bad attempt at angry sarcasm, Angel stood. "I'll be back."

 

Buffy scoffed, covering her body once more as she watched him leave. "I don't need a fucking shining knight in armor," she spat.

 

Angel turned around. "Why don't you just shut up and take the help when it's being offered."

 

"Because that's not what I do!" Buffy cried out. "I take care of myself and when that asshole comes in here, raping me, for fuck's sakes, I fucking hate it! God!... I just want to go home!"

 

Buffy's scream echoed in the room and Angel's face became shuttered as he stared at her. A tear slipped from her eye as she watched him slip out the door.

 

TBC…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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