They had been sparring for quite some time and it had gradually been reduced to a wrestling match, each of them battling to see who would end up on top as the victor. William trapped her legs between his and slammed her wrists down on each side of her head. He grinned triumphantly into her disgruntled face before leaning down to capture that adorably pouty bottom lip for a lusty suck. She immediately reciprocated; the kiss becoming a lush exchange of lips and tongues. He lifted his head reluctantly, breaking the kiss to stare down into her adoring green eyes.

“Buffy, I love you.” He was unable to stop the words that spilled from his lips. Her eyes widened in astonishment and a look of wonder crossed her face. She was opening her mouth to reply when someone knocked on the door. Hard.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“Who the bloody hell could that be?” William bellowed in frustration.

“How the hell should I know, Slayer! It’s YOUR dream!” she huffed.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

William shot up in his bed with a savage growl of irritation. He tried desperately to grasp onto the details, but the dream was already fading away from his mind. Whoever was trying to bash the door down was going to be eviscerated. He lunged off the bed and grabbed his Nikes up on the way out of his room.

Pounding down the stairs, he glanced over at his father. Rupert was sprawled out in his recliner with a pair of headphones on, snoring along with The Doors. William rolled his eyes and jerked open the front door.

Xander was raising his fist to pound on the door once more when it swung open. William took in his appearance and frowned, pulling him inside after a quick look around.

“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded, sitting down on the stairway to pull on his trainers.

“I…” Xander swallowed hard. He had come here hoping for a chance just like this. It was the perfect opportunity to drive a wedge between William and Buffy. All he had to do was tell William that Buffy had done all this to him for no reason and William would doubtless go all damage bound on her and probably stake her worthless ass. It would be the perfect revenge on the blond vampire for presuming to tell Xander what a worthless pile of steaming cow dung he really was.

He opened his mouth to begin spinning his web of lies when he remembered the look on Buffy’s face when she pushed him, yelling at him to get out of the tunnel. With sudden insight that was completely out of character for him, Xander realized exactly what Buffy had done. She wasn’t ‘obligated’ to save him. All she would have had to do was sit back and do…nothing. She might even have run. The demon would have come after him and…Xander thought of those long, smooth spikes and shuddered. After making him uncomfortably aware of just how pathetic his life really was, she had saved it. And he had left her there to rot.

“I’ll explain on the way, man. We’ve gotta hurry. Buffy’s in the sewers, probably getting skewered six different ways by some demon.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when William leapt off the porch and took off at a dead run. Xander rolled his eyes as he took off after him at a limping jog. Damn. That slayer stamina and speed would come in handy for him right now. Not to mention the accelerated healing. Ow. Ow.

William didn’t bother with the ladder. He simply dropped down through the manhole that Xander had left open and pounded down the tunnel in the direction of the Magic Box. He could retrace her route from there to Crawford Street. His heart thudded painfully behind his ribs as he ran. The fear that he would be too late to help her was a huge knot in his throat.

He reached a slight widening in the tunnel. The faint, coppery smell of blood hung in the air and there were smears of it on the walls and floor. There was no way to tell if it was hers or not. He knelt and inspected the different footprints scattered in the dust. He found prints from Buffy’s Sketchers and some that obviously belonged to the demon Xander had mentioned, but he also found a number of deeper prints from what looked like military issue boots. They seemed to be centered around a large area of blood. He stood up, pacing back and forth. His hand went to the marks on his neck, rubbing at them to sooth the sting that had grown sharper with each passing minute.

Xander came hobbling up to him, breathing like a winded horse. “Thanks for holding back so I could keep up with ya, pal,” he wheezed.

“What kind of demon was it?”

“She said it was a Polera or something like that. It had two long shiny spike things in its arms.”

“A Polgara?” William’s face paled. “It’s their mating season.”

“That’s what she said. Why she made me leave,” Xander confessed.

That earned him a look of scorn. “Yeah, I’m sure she really had to work hard to convince you to run, didn’t she?”

Xander flushed with embarrassment. “I came to get you,” he mumbled, unable to meet William’s eyes-- knowing they would be filled with contempt.

William took two steps and grabbed Xander by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the blood streaked wall. “I know what went on here, Xander. I know what you tried to do to her, but right now I don’t have time to deal with you. I’m going to go find her and if she has so much as a scratch on her from either you or that demon, it’s coming out of your arse, mate. Count on it.”

With that said he flung Xander away and set off down the tunnel, not even sparing him another glance.

Shuddering, Xander got to his feet and started limping back to the Magic Box. He needed an ice pack for his nuts and someone that could tell him about vengeance demons. Hopefully Joyce was still there.

Chapter Ten


Moving quickly, William reached the Crawford Street access. A small scrap of white fabric on the floor caught his attention and he scooped it up. It was one of those little hair things Buffy was forever wearing. He smiled with relief and stuffed it in his pocket before climbing the ladder.

He didn’t even get a chance to knock before the door was flung open. He walked in to be met with an armful of Buffy; a Buffy that kissed him like she wanted to suck the breath right out of him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging like a limpet as she smooshed her lips to his.

“I gotta say I was thinkin’ you’d be a little more upset, luv,” William mumbled around her greedy lips.

Buffy lifted her head and grinned at his bemused face. “Well, I was at first, but then the neatest thing happened!” She bounced up and down excitedly, a motion that had William’s eyes rolling up in pleasure as certain parts of her bumped certain parts of him. The belt of the terrycloth robe she wore loosened and the curves of her breasts peeked out invitingly.

Reaching around her, he grabbed her ass and ground up into her as he carried her over to the sofa. Dropping down on top of her, he attacked her ears and the curve of her neck.

“Will!” She grabbed him by the ears and pulled his face out of her neck, forcing him to look at her. Her bottom lip stuck out as she pouted up at him. “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

“Sorry, pet. All those little bouncies and wigglies distracted me for a minute,” he apologized. “What happened to put you in such a state?”

“I beat up a demon!” she giggled, bursting with obvious pride.

“You did? And it didn’t set off the chip?” William was suitably impressed with her revelation. Except for the Initiative, demons posed the biggest threat to her in her chipped state. That she could defend herself against them was a huge thing.

“Nope, not even a little tingle. God, Will, it was SUCH a rush! I’m almost sorry I didn’t get the chance to finish it off.”

“What happened with that, then?” he asked. His hands rested on her robe just above her breasts, sliding his fingers underneath to tease her pale gold skin.

Buffy pouted once more. “I was getting ready to break its neck when our favorite militant demon hunters showed up. They must have been tracking it and followed it into the sewers. Lucky for me, I was able to hide before they saw me.”

“Wonder why they were tracking a Polgara demon? They’re relatively harmless unless they feel threatened.”

“Or horny,” she deadpanned, raking her fingers through his hair to bring out the curls. “There were six of them, with Riley Finn in charge. They tied it up and took it with them. They even took the spike I broke off when I was fighting it. Why would they want that? It’s not like they’re worth anything.”

William frowned, deep in thought as he traced idle circles on her chest. “I don’t like it,” he finally said. “With everything you told me about their experiments on you and on different types of demons…I don’t know, Buffy. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

He rested his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. “Was it bad?” he asked.

Buffy knew what he was asking and nodded. “Not as bad as last night, but it still wigged me a little. I’m over it now.” She found it utterly sweet and amazing that he was showing concern for her. She leaned up and kissed him. “Thanks for caring,” she whispered.

Staring down into her sparkling eyes, William felt a weightless sensation in the vicinity of his heart, immediately followed by a frisson of fear. Their position…even the intense emotion in her eyes, was eerily similar to his earlier dream.

Buffy looked up at him, a tiny frown puckering her eyebrows. She had heard his heart skip a beat and then resume its rhythm just a bit too fast. “Will, are you okay?”

William shook his head as if to clear it. “I…Buffy, I…”

He wants to end it, Buffy thought with sick certainty. Too much has happened too fast and he’s spooked. She moved quickly to cover his mouth; first with her fingers and then with her lips in a kiss of pure desperation, tears pricking at her eyes. Not yet! Please, just a little longer! she cried inside.

Her obvious anguish surprised him, but he responded helplessly to her demands. Small hands attacked the fastenings of his jeans as she pushed them down with her feet. In a heartbeat she had him firmly in hand, holding him in place as she arched her back, driving him inside her with a cry of pain.

“Buffy… Slow down, pet.” Will tried to pull back, knowing he had to be hurting her. “You’re not ready…”

She clutched at him mindlessly, whimpering as she fought to keep him inside; to keep him close and link him to her the only way she knew how.

“BUFFY!” He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. “STOP.” He tried to calm her, stroking her face and hair gently. “You’re making me hurt you, luv, and it doesn’t have to be this way.”

A sob broke from her as she buried her face in his neck. “I’m… Oh, God, I’m sorry…So sorry, Will…I ruin everything!” she whispered brokenly, burying her face in his neck.

William smiled into her hair. “Nothing is ruined, baby. We’re just gonna slow things down a bit, yeah? Make it good, so we can both enjoy it.” He pulled out of her, wincing as she gave a tiny yelp of pain. Rolling to his feet, he took her hands and helped her to stand; holding her steady until her legs stopped shaking.

Still keeping his grip on one of her hands, he took all the pillows off the sofa and threw them on the floor. Her robe was skimmed off and tossed to the side. Kneeling, he smiled up at her and pulled her down to lie on the lush oriental carpet, arranging her just as he wanted her in the nest of pillows.

“Comfy?’ he asked, standing above her and removing his clothes without fuss.

Buffy nodded uncertainly, her eyes wide and wary as she watched him undress. God, he was gorgeous. She could spend hours just watching him like this.

Joining her among the pillows, he bent to kiss her, taking her hands and lacing their fingers together. “Just lie back. Close your eyes and relax, because I’m going to tell you a story, okay?”

“A story?” She was clearly puzzled by this turn of events. “What about?”

“Shhh.” He placed a finger over her lips to hush her. “Humor me, luv. Please?”

She nodded, making a big show of getting comfortable against the pillows and releasing a deep, unnecessary breath. “Begin,” she said with a smile as she closed her eyes.

“Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince,” William began.

Leaning down, he nibbled a slow trail up her neck to her ear, his warm breath making her shiver in reaction. “Actually, he was a poncy buggar. He was forever scribbling bloody awful poetry and walking around with his head in the clouds. But he lived a double life, our prince. By day, he was meek and shy, but by night he was a valiant warrior, slaying dragons and demons and keeping his kingdom safe.”

William moved to the other side of her neck, dropping kisses on her closed eyelids as he did so. “He was brave and loyal and true to the cause, but because of his secret identity, he was also lonely.” He worried a soft earlobe between his teeth. “You see, our prince had been burned in love before; lost his ‘faith’ in it, so to speak. So, he was afraid to trust another with his heart.”

He skimmed his hand down her throat to just above her left breast, coming to a rest over her unbeating heart. She quivered the slightest bit and he raised his head to look at her face. Noting that her eyes were still tightly closed, he smiled in satisfaction. Leaning down, he nuzzled the softness of her breasts, licking and sucking in turn at the diamond-hard peaks.

“Time passed and he grew cocky and overconfident. There was nothing he couldn’t defeat. Until the night the golden vampire princess invaded his kingdom. She had heard the tales of the invincible warrior, and since she had already taken out two of his kind, she was prepared to make him her third.” William slid down her body until he rested between her legs. “She was brash and beautiful and untamed by any man.”

Buffy gasped and jumped as she felt his nose brushing against the tight curls guarding her sex. Her fingers clenched in the soft rug beneath her as he bathed her inner thighs with moist flicks of his hot tongue. All the while he continued his tale, breathing the words into her skin.

“The prince wanted her badly, but it seemed their fate was to destroy each other. They fought often, but neither was able to gain the upper hand. They were too evenly matched; knew the poetry of each other’s moves too well. They came to share a grudging respect for each other. Then one day something terrible happened to the vampire princess and she couldn’t fight him anymore.”

He felt her tense against him. Over it, my ass, he thought. He ran his hands up and down her legs soothingly. “Even though it went against her nature, she came to the prince and begged for his protection from the evil, militant demons that had hurt her. The prince agreed against his better judgment. Not because he feared that she might hurt his friends. The prince was afraid of what she could do to his heart.”

William lifted his eyes and found her staring at him. He refused to look away, holding her enthralled green eyes as he reached down and lightly traced her nether lips. Parting them, he found her wet warmth and swept his fingers up to circle around her clit and back down to tease her opening; up and down in a continuous, hypnotic gesture.

She bit her bottom lip and arched her back pleading for more; more of his touch, more of his words, more of him.

“All of his life the prince had been taught that vampires, especially golden vampire princess’, were evil, soulless beings. Meeting her changed everything for him, because nothing that he had ever learned applied to her. She was truly unique when compared to others of her species. She had warmth and compassion and a wonderful sense of humor, but of all her traits the one he most admired was her enormous capacity for love.” He removed his fingers and replaced them with his hot mouth, holding her down with his hands on her soft stomach when she bucked against him. He nibbled and sucked at her, sweeping his tongue down her slit to thrust inside her. Licking up her copious juices, he purred his appreciation of her flavor, the vibrations from his mouth arcing straight to her aching clit.

He brought her to the edge, but refused to take her over. Instead he drew back and used his fingers to tease and taunt her once more, pinching and rolling her clit as he drove her insane with need. “He found himself wondering what it would be like to love her,” he said, his voice raw from holding his own desires in check. “And he wondered if she could ever bring herself to love him in return.”

Buffy was teetering on the edge of an abyss, her body so sensitized that it was almost frightening. She drew in a hissing breath when she felt his fingers parting her; laying her pulsing clit bare to him, every part of her tensed in anticipation. Just when she thought she couldn’t take another second, he struck; burying his face in her, trying to devour her.

She came instantly, harder than she ever had before, screaming out his name in joyful abandon. Laughing and crying when the orgasm didn’t stop; it merely eased the tiniest bit and slammed into her once more. When he finally gentled his ministrations and began to ease her down from the pinnacle, she was completely limp.

William lifted his head, wiping her juices from his face against the softness of her thighs. He crawled up her spent body, his blue eyes shining with a predatory gleam. Lifting one dimpled knee up over his hip, he slid smoothly inside her, sheathing himself to the root and moving with long, sure strokes.

Her green eyes flew wide open when he entered her and she threw back her head with a harsh moan as the pressure began to build within her once more. She raised her trembling legs to his back and pulled him even deeper, crying out as he hit her sweet spot. He braced up on his hands, locking his arms as he began to circle his hips against her, the motion providing dual stimulation of that highly sensitive place inside and her throbbing clit.

The ripple of her inner muscles signaling her release was William’s downfall. He dropped down on her, praying that he wasn’t crushing her with his weight as he rocked against her. He could feel his body tightening with each flutter of hers around him and knew he was close.

“Say it,” he hissed, gritting his teeth as he fought to hold out just a little longer. “God, baby…so close. Say it, Buffy!” He kissed her almost savagely then rested his hot forehead against hers as he glared down at her with storm-tossed blue eyes. “Tell me…what you feel…”

“I can’t, Will!” she cried out in panic, afraid to admit it; afraid of what he made her feel.

“You can…Tell me, baby. Please,” he groaned. His mouth found her mark, her sire’s bite that he had mutilated with his own blunt human teeth. He clamped down on it as he pistoned in and out of her.

His bite sent her over the edge and she began to jerk and spasm helplessly; clamping down on his cock with her tight muscles, her long, keening wail was music to his ears as her defenses finally crumbled.

“Love…you! God, Will…love you so much!” she cried before sinking her fangs deep into his neck.

The vise of her walls closing around him combined with her admission of love was enough to drive him over, falling hard and fast as he thrust into her one last time. The sting of her fangs sliding into his neck brought sensations even more intense and he roared as he spilled inside her quivering body.

After licking the blood from his mark on her, he lifted his head wearily. Caressing her face, he urged her to open her heavy eyes and look at him. “I love you, Buffy,” he whispered, kissing her with aching sweetness. “Love you so bloody much.”

Chapter Eleven

They slept for several hours and William woke up to find himself spooned around Buffy’s body, her curvy little backside pressed against him. She didn’t stir when he pulled his arm from around her to look at his watch. Half past eleven. He really should get up and go patrol, but it felt so good just lying with her. He buried his face in her fragrant hair and tried to will his body back to sleep.

The knock at the door brought Buffy to life like a kicked cobra. She crouched on her haunches staring wildly around her. Her eyes passed over him, but William didn’t think she really saw him.

“Buffy? Calm down, luv. Get your robe on and I’ll see who it is,” he whispered in a soothing voice. “C’mon, put your robe on.”

She finally seemed to snap out of her trance but there was still apprehension in her eyes as she took the garment he offered and slipped it on.

William found his jeans and stepped into them, buttoning them as he walked silently to the front door. An indistinct shadow loomed beyond the frosted glass. Quietly lifting the shade at the small window beside the door, he rolled his eyes. Xander stood on the porch, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

Deciding he could wait a few more minutes, William went back to Buffy and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s Xander. Why don’t you go upstairs and get dressed while I see what he wants?”

Buffy nodded, biting her lip. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she fidgeted with the belt of her robe, avoiding his eyes. “We were in-“

Will stopped her words with a kiss. “I know what happened, luv. Don’t get yourself all worked up about it.”

“He told you?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t have to. The sewer tunnels aren’t one of Xander’s favorite places. There could only be one reason why he would be down there with you, and I know the feeling wasn’t mutual. You can tell me everything later. Right now, all you have to worry about is getting dressed,” he assured her. “Want to patrol with me after he leaves? We’ll find some not-so-nice demons for you to mess up.”

Her smile was blinding. “I’d love to!”

Watching her run up the stairs, he made his way back over to the door and swung it open, stepping back and motioning for Xander to enter.


Xander took in William’s half dressed appearance and mussed hair. It wasn’t hard to guess what he and Buffy had been up to. He was amazed at the change in the blonde’s behavior. The William he knew was usually nervous and edgy, almost hyperactive in his movements. This William was loose and relaxed; his every movement smooth and almost sensual, like a sleek golden cougar.

He wondered if he had looked this way when Anya Jenkins had ridden him into oblivion the other night. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t even been able to walk after she had finished with him.

Okay, ‘not-talking-William’ was making him nervous as hell. He was just about to open his mouth to break the uncomfortable silence when something made his nose explode and he found himself lying flat on his back on the carpet. He looked up at William through a haze of pain.

“I take it we understand each other, Xander?” William said simply as he stood there, his loosely clenched left fist held calmly at his side.

“Crystal clear,” Xander snuffled, sitting up and trying to staunch the flow of blood from his offended nose. He hadn’t even seen William’s arm move.

“She’s mine. Plain and simple. No stupid questions, no more innuendos, and no smart-assed comments. Mine. Touch her again, even look at her funny, and I won’t pull my punch or stop with your nose next time. I swear to God I will beat you to death.”

Xander gingerly probed his rapidly swelling appendage. He’d pulled that punch? Christ! He felt like every bit of bone in his nose had been crushed into powder.

“Good. Now that we’ve settled that; what are you doing here?” William busied himself picking up all the pillows and putting them back in their places.

“I’m worried about Willow,” Xander said. “I’m sure you’ve noticed…” he paused, squirming inwardly.

“The big crush thing she’s got going on? Yeah, kinda hard not to.”

He looked up as Buffy came bouncing down the stairs dressed in worn hip-hugger jeans, a pale pink baby-t with ‘Bite Me’ emblazoned in darker pink glitter across her breasts, and battered trainers on her feet. She caught sight of Xander sitting on the couch with a wad of Kleenex held to his bloodied nose and paused uncertainly on the third riser from the bottom, darting a quick look at William as she gnawed her bottom lip.

He realized her dilemma immediately. She had no idea how he wanted her to treat to him in front of his friends. William pulled his t-shirt over his head and tugged it down as he walked over to her. From her perch she stood slightly above him and his eyes were level with her breasts. Reading the slogan on her tiny t-shirt, he smirked at her and let his eyes rest briefly on his bite mark.

“That an invitation, luv?” he asked, his voice low and suggestive as he dragged one finger over the exposed tops of her breasts.

She shivered in reaction. “Open invitation for you, babe. Anytime, anywhere.”

Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he picked her up and turned in a lazy circle with her. Buffy twined her arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. Without breaking the kiss, William let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor.

Xander watched with mouth agape. He had to force himself to look elsewhere as the blond couple continued their impromptu make-out session. Although he wasn’t looking, he could still hear them. William’s ‘bloody hell” and Buffy’s answering giggle brought all kinds of wildly arousing pictures to mind. He quickly snatched up a cushion and dropped it in his lap, wincing as it brushed his bruised balls.

Finally breaking the kiss, William took hold of her hand to lead her over to a big leather armchair. Seating himself, he pulled her down on his lap. His hand immediately went to her hair to pull out the pink scrap of fabric that held it away from her face, allowing the thick mane of gold to fall down her back.

“Will,” she protested. “Give that back.”

He shook his head and kissed her again. “Nope. You can have it back when we leave.”

Xander judged it safe to look their way once more and turned back around. “Leave?” he asked. “Where are you going?”

“Patrolling.” William arched his scarred eyebrow. “Same as every other night.”

“Are you sure Buffy should go?” He held up his hands to ward off the dual glares he got from the pair. “I’m just saying that, since she can’t protect herself, it might be dangerous for both of you.” Not to mention Willow would have a conniption fit.

Buffy laughed at the irony of his concern, causing Xander to flush with embarrassment. “Oh, that’s right. You didn’t hang around to see the show, did you? Yours truly kicked Mr. Polgara’s ass without one flicker from the chip. I may not be able to touch humans, but I can break some demon skull.”

She was practically bouncing on William’s lap and he was smiling down at her. Xander felt a shudder of dread go through him.

No… Willow wasn’t going to like this development at all.

Her plans had been laid carefully, with nothing left to chance. It had been sheer torture to sit back and watch that little blond-headed imp of Satan twitch her ass under William’s nose, but she was patient and now, a week after her conversation with Riley Finn, her window of opportunity was wide open.

Willow smiled in triumph as Buffy came into view. She had been following the blond vamp all night, waiting for the perfect opportunity. She was hiding behind a crypt in the Crawford Street cemetery, just across the road from the mansion. The trap was set; all she had to do now was bait it.

Grabbing up a few handfuls of dirt, she smeared it onto her overalls and on her face, and then ran her fingers through her hair to muss it. She waited tensely until Buffy was climbing the steps to the mansion’s front porch before she ran across the street, yelling her name and waving her arms.

“Buffy!” she screamed. “You have to help us!”

Buffy whirled to face the red-head, dropping her bags on the porch as she took in the dirty face and disheveled hair. “What is it?” she asked as Willow skidded to a halt in front of her.

“It’s William. We were patrolling and ran into this huge demon. He’s hurt! Buffy, he needs you!” Willow cried.

Without hesitating for a second, Buffy took off after her. She didn’t question why the witch would come to her for help instead of William’s Watcher, all she heard was that William was hurt and needed help.

“Up there behind that crypt,” Willow panted. “I can’t look again; there was just so much blood!” She began to make retching noises as she sank to her knees beside a headstone.

Buffy flew heedlessly around the corner of the crypt and slammed into the khaki-covered chest of Riley Finn. Her eyes widened in horror as she leaped away from him, directly into the middle of a group of ten fully kitted-out Initiative soldiers.

She vamped instantly and growled, her glowing green eyes darting from one impassive face to the other as she frantically sought an escape route that wouldn’t leave her writhing on the ground in pain.

Willow’s soft laugh brought her head up. “Help, help, Buffy!” She laughed mockingly. “God, you’re such an idiot. I can’t believe you fell for it. And I didn’t even have to resort to using magic to fool you. Guess I’m a better actress than you thought, huh?”

Shaking off her demon, Buffy stared at her with anguished eyes. “Oh, God, Willow. You don’t realize what you’ve done,” she whispered.

“I know exactly what I’ve done. Did you think I would just sit idly by while William ruined his life with you? You’re an evil, blood-sucking monster! You’re beneath him,” Willow taunted. She turned to Finn. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain, now you do your part. I want her gone. Dusted.” She handed him a small paper sack. “And I want proof, so bring this back when you’re done.”

Riley slapped the bag out of her hand and grabbed her arm in a punishing grip. “You can watch everything we’re gonna do first hand. Dr. Walsh is gonna be thrilled. She always wanted to study a real, live witch.”

“What do you mean? Let me go!” Willow was horrified. She had never in her wildest dreams considered this would happen. She screamed, trying in vain to pull herself free. “We had a deal!”

Cursing as her sharp nails clawed at his arm, Riley backhanding her to the ground. Buffy growled savagely when he drew his leg back to kick the other girl and flung herself between them, gasping in pain as his heavy boot plowed into her stomach instead of it’s original target; Willow’s head. She silently cursed the naïve red-head. If it weren’t for her, she would take her chances and make an attempt to escape, pain or no pain.

“Aww, ain’t it cute, guys? The Slayer’s hot little pet vamp is protecting her Judas,” Finn chuckled. Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of Buffy’s long hair and dragged her away from the witch, relishing her cries of pain.

Willow struggled to her feet, her lips already forming the words of a shielding incantation, when one of the soldiers hit her with his tazer. Her slight body fell to the ground, jerking from the electric shocks that ran through it.

“Willow!” Buffy screamed. She rounded on Finn. “You’ve got me, let her go!” she pleaded.

He gave her a slimy grin, stepping so close that his body rubbed against hers. “Yeah, baby, I’ve got you. And I plan on using you to make my whole body feel good. I’m sure Willie the Wuss won’t mind sharing.” He ran a finger over her breast. “I did break you in for him, after all.”

Buffy shuddered in disgust at his touch and shrank away, her demon flashing in and out as she struggled for control. Enraged by her repelled expression, Finn punched her in the face. Blood flew from her nose, splattering across the side of the crypt before she lost consciousness and collapsed onto the dew-slick grass.

“Gather them up, boys,” Finn ordered. “I want that witch gagged. Hard telling what she could do to us if she started chanting her mojo. And full restraints on my girl, there. The man that lets her get away will be one dead soldier, got it?”

William was at the Magic Box looking over Buffy’s drawings of the Initiative Labs when he suddenly cried out and slapped a hand over his neck. “Bloody hell!”

Joyce stared at him. “William, what on earth…”

He leapt to his feet and began pacing nervously. “Something is wrong. Something…It’s Buffy. Something is wrong with Buffy.”

Stepping in front of him, Joyce slammed her hand against his chest to stop him in his tracks. “And just how do you know that Buffy is in trouble?” she asked. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she stared at his neck. She reached out quickly and dragged down the collar of his t-shirt, her mouth dropping open in shock as the small scars were revealed.

“You let her Claim you?” she breathed, clearly stunned. “You’re…mated?”

William flushed angrily. “I don’t need a bloody lecture from you about it, Joyce. I wanted it and it’s done. Leave it. I need to go find her.”

Pushing past her, he grabbed his duster from the back of his chair and swung it on as he stalked towards the door. “If Xander and Willow come by, could you have them meet me at the mansion?” he called over his shoulder.

“Why don’t I take my car and go find them? It’ll save time.” She was beside him, car keys in hand, meeting his surprised expression with a rueful smile. “Don’t think I’ll forget about the Claim issue. After we find her, you and I are going to have a serious talk.”

Chapter Twelve


Willow had woken up in Hell and she had no one to blame for her predicament but herself.

It should have been so easy. Lure Buffy into the clearing and then stand back and let Riley Finn and his band of merry men take it from there. Buffy would be gone forever, leaving Willow to comfort the broken-hearted Slayer. In her fantasies, he always realized that she had been the perfect one for him all along and they lived happily ever after.

But no. She’d given in to the urge to gloat. To torment Buffy with the fact that she had been bested by the one person she never would have suspected of treachery.

If you want to dine with the Devil, bring a long spoon.

The old saying ran through her head. She hadn’t sat down with Satan, but Riley Finn came in a close second.

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and trickled their way down onto the cot beneath her. Willow couldn’t remember ever being so afraid. She had never realized just how much she had counted on her friendship with the Slayer to protect her from the darker side of Sunnydale.

At first, she had stubbornly clung to the hope that William and Xander would come rushing to their rescue, but that hope was fading with each hour of confinement that passed. How could they be saved when no one knew where they were? She hadn’t confided any of her plans to anyone. The betrayal of Buffy had been her idea: an idea sparked by the sight of Riley Finn having coffee at the Espresso Pump.

She had plenty of time between whatever experiments Dr. Hiroto happened to dream up to contemplate her monstrous errors in judgment. Joining forces with Finn had been a monumental mistake; believing that she could do so without fear of duplicity had been the height of stupidity.

Wearily, she pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the cot and rested her head in her hands. Instead of running through silky red hair, her fingers touched her bare scalp. Fresh tears flooded her eyes as she recalled the look on Riley Finn’s face while Hiroto had shaved her hair off. She now looked like a bad clone of Demi Moore in that G.I. Jane movie.

Riley Finn was one of those people that reveled in inflicting pain and torment on those he felt weak or inferior to him. He wielded a huge amount of power within this small organization and he never hesitated to use it. Why had she never sensed that his wholesome, country boy demeanor masked a soul as black as obsidian?

Lifting her head, she looked across the aisle into Buffy's empty cell. She wondered again where they took the tiny blonde each time they came for her. A shudder wracked her body as Willow thought of the bruised and bloodied nude form that had lain on the floor of the other cell all night. Not a flutter of movement had disturbed the pale gold body no matter how loudly Willow had called out to her.

This morning Buffy had roused a bit before they came for her again. She had taken one look at Willow’s sad, bald head and began to cry. “Oh, Willow…your beautiful hair,” she had cried weakly. When the same guards came for her, those sad hazel eyes had clashed briefly with hers. The Wicca had felt her stomach churn at their completely defeated expression. If they could reduce a strong-willed creature like Buffy to such depths, what would become of her?

The sound of approaching footsteps had her curling back up on her cot. When they stopped in front of her cell she looked up and began to shake when Riley smiled at her from that innocent cherubs face. The doors swept open and he stepped inside, his ever present tazer in hand.

"Do I need to zap you again, or will you come willingly?" he asked.

Since her legs, back, and bottom were littered with burn marks from the tazer already, she mutely shook her head and held her hands out willingly for the plastic restraints. Once they were on, he led her from the cell and out of the Pit.

The hallway he pushed her down next was dark and had grey doors every few feet on both sides. Muffled cries came from behind several; cries of pain that chilled her bones. Another soldier stood outside of one and he saluted Riley when they approached him.

"Present and accounted for, sir," he said snappily.

"Any trouble?" Riley asked.

The Riley-clone rolled his eyes and rubbed a spreading bruise on his jaw. "Bastard’s got a mean left hook. He got in one good hit before I could zap him, but he should be coming around by now."

Riley chuckled and swiped a card through the lock. When the door slid open, he grabbed Willow's arm and shoved her into the darkness that was revealed. She fell hard on her bound arms with a cry of mingled pain and fear and lay there, crying brokenly as the door slammed and left her in total darkness.

Maggie Walsh waited patiently for Riley to make his way to the surveillance room. Her cold eyes never wavered from the monitor in front of her. Although the room was still cloaked in darkness, the enhanced night vision features of the hidden camera plainly revealed the two figures trapped inside.

The witch had turned out to be quite a disappointment. None of Hiroto’s tests had unearthed anything to support his claim that she harbored incredible power within her small frame. Maggie was convinced that she was what she claimed to be; a college freshman that dabbled in white magic. Her stubborn refusal to answer any questions about William Giles intrigued Maggie far more than any supernatural abilities that Willow Rosenburg might possess.


Agent Finn’s revelation of Giles’ claim to being the Slayer had caused quite a stir among the upper echelon of the Initiative, especially Maggie herself. She had studied the young man surreptitiously as he napped his way through her freshman psych lectures, unable to reconcile the mythical legend of the Vampire Slayer with the shy, soft-spoken student.

She dismissed all thoughts of the Slayer when the monitor showed that Hostile 18 had rolled to his feet and was pacing around Rosenburg’s prone form. The male vampire had caught her interest from the first day. He had been bagged and brought in shortly after Buffy Summers, and although he wasn’t of the Aurelius line, Maggie had toyed with the idea of putting the two of them together. It would have proven interesting to watch them interact. The subject had come up since her recapture, but since Riley refused to share the female, she had decided to get some use out of the Wicca.

Riley marched through the door with his customary shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Everything is in order, Dr. Walsh.”

“Excellent. How long were you able to withhold blood from Hostile 18?”

“Six days today. You realize that he will probably kill her?”

“I’m aware of that. Sacrifices must be made for higher learning, don’t you agree, Agent Finn?” Maggie stepped close to him and ran her hand down his chest to his groin for a quick squeeze.

He groaned and thrust into her palm. “Absolutely, Dr. Walsh.”

Together they turned to face the monitor and enjoy the show.

"Those dirty fuckin' bastards."

The voice was calm yet deadly, the underlying thread of menace causing Willow to shy away from its vehemence and huddle against the door. Her eyes darted wildly around, trying to penetrate the cocoon of darkness. Something brushed past her, dragging a ragged scream from her dry throat.

"No need for that darlin', I’m just lookin' for a light switch," said the disembodied voice.

She heard a faint click and the bare bulb on the ceiling glared to life. Momentarily blinded, she hid her face in her up drawn knees.

"You're human."

Hearing soft footsteps moving towards her, she flinched closer to the door. A feather light touch brushed the top of her bare head, but Willow refused to lift her head. Her only coherent thought was of the bloody cuts and bruises that painted Buffy’s skin whenever she was brought back to her cell.

“What’s your name, sugar?” A hand ghosted down the back of her neck and over the back scratchy shift she wore in a gesture reminiscent of someone gentling a panicky animal. The movement was repeated several times before she lifted her head enough to allow one eye to peek out at him. The only sound in the room as her eyes met his was her ragged breathing.

Eyes of pure El Dorado gold framed with lush, black lashes stared back at her. She found herself transfixed by their beauty. The rest of him was just as gorgeous, she discovered. Curly hair as black as a crow’s wing framed a face of such singular beauty that it was comparable to one of Botticelli’s angel’s. He looked to be of average height with a compact, muscular build similar to William’s.

“Hey, aren’t you the Slayer’s lil witchy friend?” Those odd, cat-like eyes swept from the top of her shaven head to the tips of her dirty toes. He suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Willow…your name is Willow, right?”

She cast her eyes down self-consciously and nodded. “Willow Rosenburg,” she whispered.

“My name’s Trey Mathis. What the hell did they do to you?”

His hand brushed against hers in a sympathetic gesture and that’s when she became aware of the lack of warmth in his touch. Her eyes flashed up to his face, taking in the preternatural paleness of his complexion and the total lack of breathing. She almost knocked him over in her haste to get across the room from him.

A sad smile crooked his mouth as he rose gracefully to his feet. “Guess my secret’s out, huh? Damn. I was hopin’ to at least get your phone number first,” he joked, his southern drawl more pronounced as he leaned back against the door and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You’re a- a vampire,” Willow stammered, her eyes unwillingly drawn to his bare chest.

Trey’s expression of amusement intensified. “Smart lil trick, ain’t ya? I can see why the Slayer keeps you around.”

A loud, scratchy whine cut off her reply and they both clapped their hands over their ears in protest as they stared at the speaker mounted near the ceiling.

“Cut the bullshit, Rhett Butler. Your orders are to fuck her, not make friends with her.”

It was easy to recognize Riley Finn’s voice and his vicious words brought a cry of despair to Willow’s lips. Oh God! She thought. Not this. Not by a vampire. Even if he did look like a Gap model, the fact remained that he was an evil, soulless being. She pressed herself back against the wall and stared at him with huge, panicked eyes.

A thundering growl ripped from Trey’s throat as he glared up at the speaker. “And I told you to kiss my lily-white ass! I don’t take orders from you, you dumb shit-kicker!”

The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he was writhing on the floor, clutching his head and roaring in pain. Riley’s cruel laughter rang from the speaker.

“Feel that, Johnny-reb? Every time you piss me off, I got a little switch here that’ll make you see things MY way, courtesy of that piece of hardware we planted in your brain.”

Willow watched as the vampire boosted himself up on one elbow. The pain had caused him to shift into his demonic visage and she was startled to see that it was just as attractive as his human guise.

“Fuck off!” Trey snarled at the ceiling.

Another jolt of electric current arced through him, this one lasting twice as long and leaving him with a trail of blood streaming from his nose.

“I can do this all day, the choice is yours,” the voice said with an evil chuckle.

“You can—“

She was on her knees beside him before he could finish the insult. “Please, just do it! Just get it over with and he’ll stop.”

Trey looked at her, aghast, his eyes filled with pain as more blood spilled down his face. “I’m not gonna force myself on you just so G.I. Joe can get his rocks off while him and God knows how many others are listenin’ in. I’ll dust first!” he spat.

“Does it have to be force?” Willow couldn’t believe she was even contemplating the possibility of having any kind of sexual relations with a vampire. Not only that, but she was trying to talk him into it. Could her life become any more surreal?

He shook his head. “He said fuck, not rape, but since you aren’t willin’, that’s exactly what it is. Rape.”

Riley must have hit the switch again because he bowed up from the floor with another bellow of agony.

“Oh God.” Willow was sobbing when he stilled once more. “Please, I can’t stand to see him do this to you!” she cried desperately.

“Willow, you don’t understand!” he insisted, his voice an intense whisper. He tried to move away from her in spite of his obvious weakness. “I ain’t had a drop of blood in over a week. If we do this I don’t know if I can keep my demon from takin’ control and drainin’ you dry.”

His reasoning amazed her, forcing her to rethink every previous conception of what vampires were like. In truth, he reminded her of Buffy. Maybe the little blond vamp wasn’t as unique as they had thought. Maybe it WAS possible for some vampires to experience more tender emotions?

So many confused thoughts and conflicting emotions were making her head hurt as badly as his must. She decided to take matters into her own hands. Well, as soon as she got her hands free she would.

She gave him her back and revealed her bound hands. “Can you bite through these?” she asked.

They cuffs were made of tough plastic, but they were no match for those razor sharp fangs. She felt a shudder of fear race through her at the ease with which they sliced through, but it was quickly overshadowed by the immense relief she felt as her hands fell free. Rubbing the pins and needles from her muscles, she turned to face Trey once more, a calculating gleam in her green eyes as she watched him shake off his demon.

Before he could blink she was on him, her lips seeking his in a frantic kiss and her slight weight rubbing against him.

Trey brought his hands up to push her away but she clung to him tenaciously, forcing her tongue past his lips to duel with his. God, she’s so WARM, he thought. So warm and oh, sweet Jesus, all that writhing around on top of him was making him hard enough to drill for diamonds. Instead of pushing her off, his hands clenched on her hips and hauled her harder against him.

Willow had pictured herself as a modern day Joan of Arc, sacrificing herself to keep another being from being hurt, even if said being was a vampire. All she wanted to do was get this distasteful experiment over with and go back to her cold cell. Only…this wasn’t distasteful at all. These were some of the most exciting sensations she had ever felt.

The sudden, sharp tang of her arousal assailed his sensitive nose, inciting him to deepen the kiss as a soft purr vibrated through his chest. A small squeak of surprise escaped her as he rolled, pinning her beneath him. The thin cotton of her panties was an insignificant barrier as he ground his denim-covered erection into her cleft. One hand left her hip to skim over her quivering stomach and down between her legs, sliding beneath the material to work unbearable magic between her slick folds.

She arched against his hand with a mewl of delight, her own hands finding the fastenings of his jeans and ripping them open. Shoving them down over his hips, she took him in a firm grip and guided him towards her entrance.

The sound of rending fabric was loud in the room, followed by Willow’s gasping sigh and Trey’s ragged groan, muffled against each other’s mouths as he slid inside her scalding heat.

Her nails dug into the tight muscles of his bottom as she matched him thrust for thrust, her inner walls already contracting with the beginnings of her orgasm. She shivered as his mouth left hers and trailed down her throat, licking and biting a path along her jugular. There was no room for fear or misgivings, only the swirling vortex of dark desire that swelled within her as she felt the ridges on his forehead brush against the soft skin of her neck.

A growl of satisfaction rumbled in his throat as she tilted her head, baring her throat to him. Looking into her slumberous green eyes, he saw acceptance, reassurance, and…trust. The last humbled him beyond measure and gave him the strength he needed to control his demons screaming bloodlust. Slowly, almost reverently, Trey bent his head and sank his fangs into the pale, unblemished skin.

The slight sting as he bit down was eclipsed by such mind-numbing pleasure that she thought for a moment that she was going to black out. Her climax swept over her, tearing a breathless scream from her lips.

His answering roar of release was smothered against her flesh. The sensation of his cum filling her as his mouth pulled her essence from her was divine; every tug at the bite sending her spiraling into another orgasm until she was crying from the intensity of it.

Trey fell weakly against her as he carefully withdrew his fangs and sealed the wounds with his tongue. “I’m sorry if I hurt ya, darlin’,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her shoulder before lifting his head to meet her eyes.

Her only reply was a sated smile as she curled against his chest, drifting off to sleep as she listened to the soothing vibration of his purring.

Chapter Thirteen

He was beyond frustrated.

Three hours in the wilderness with Xander Harris tended to do that to a person.

“Is that a snake?”

“It’s a vine, you git. Get off me!”

“You know what likes canyons like this? Cougars. Cougars just love to lie on ledges and be all…cougar-y.”

“D’you see any cougars, Xand? Trust me, if there were cougars, your girlish shrieks over that herd of rabid chipmunks scared them away.”

“What was that? What was that noise? Oh God, it’s a coyote, I just know it! A big, ugly coyote with a Xander-craving stomach.”

“There are no bloody coyotes out here, Xander. They all moved to the suburbs so they could be closer to LA.”

A few minutes of precious silence, and then, “Do deer bite?”

William skidded to a halt and turned on his friend, struggling to control his rising blood pressure. “Harris, so help me GOD, if you don’t stop bein’ such a fuckin’ pansy-arse about this, I’ll roll you in chocolate, tie you to a tree, and let Bambi lick you to death!”

Xander gave him a wounded look. “Jeez, Will. I can’t help it if I’ve never been out of the city before. The only thing I know about nature is from what I’ve seen on Animal Planet. And that trip to the zoo.”

“Before you even ask, there are no hyenas within a ten thousand mile radius. Now please, don’t make me kill you and blame it on the wild dingoes.”

Tootsie-Roll brown eyes flew wide. “There are dingoes?”

Seconds before William’s hands could tighten around Xander’s neck, a voice of utter calm and reason spoke from behind them, “Yeah, Xander. Remember? ‘The dingoes ate my baby’?”

“Oz!”

The smaller man suffered through Xander’s suffocating hug and offered his hand to Will. “So much for hiding away to get in touch with my inner werewolf. How did you find me? Slayer dream?”

William grinned. “Nah. Post office stamp from the last letter you sent Willow.”

Oz shook his head and grinned, motioning for them to follow him down a narrow path that cut through the canyon wall. “Mind the bats,” he cautioned.

“Bats?!”

Xander was a blur as he swept past them, waving his arms frantically over his head.

“There’s a low-hanging branch at the end of the path. Ten bucks says he knocks himself out.”

“You’re on.”

They ambled along, waiting patiently. Presently they heard a sickening thud and the crash of Xander’s body falling into the brush. Without a word, William reached for his wallet and laid a crisp bill in the werewolf’s hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. The silence is worth far more than a ten-spot.”

As they passed the unconscious brunette, each reached down and grabbed a leg to drag him the short distance to Oz’s tiny cabin. After settling him on the couch with a frozen bag of tater tots over his bruised forehead, they hunkered down at the rickety kitchen table.

“So, what brings the two of you out here to the back of beyond?” Oz asked, offering a beer.

Accepting gratefully, William downed half of it in one gulp. “I came to ask for your help. I’m still not sure why he had to tag along,” he said, motioning with his bottle at the unconsciousness that was Xander.

“Comic relief?” Oz deadpanned.

William snorted with silent laughter and scrubbed at his tired face with both hands. His entire body felt numb with weariness, but still he continued to push himself.

“Jeez, Will. When was the last time you slept?”

“For longer than an hour? Nine days ago.” He held up a restraining hand as Oz started to speak. “Let me start from the beginning.”

He told him, sparing no details as he related all that had transpired since Willow’s botched ‘will-it-so’ spell. Oz had the grace to look guilty over that tidbit of information, but shook his head sadly.

“We talked about her dabbling in magic. I told her it would end up causing trouble for her or those close to her.”

William nodded his agreement and continued, telling his friend of his own break-up with Harmony, Willow’s crush, and his more recent relationship with Buffy.

“You? And Buffy?” Oz grinned. “Sweet! Always knew there was more than the desire to kill between the two of you.” He tapped the tip of his snub nose. “It never lies,” he insisted with a wink.

“Now comes the part where I need your help. Actually, Buffy and Willow need your help. A little over a week ago they both disappeared. Just vanished into thin air. Xander and I found signs of a struggle in the cemetery off of Crawford Street. Buffy’s blood was all over the place, and we found one of Willow’s shoes. We also found this.”

He pulled the black Balaclava from his pocket, gratified when Oz shrank back from it with an almost feral snarl.

“Riley Finn.”

William nodded, his face carefully expressionless. “The Initiative. They have them both. Have had them for nine days now.”

“I hate to point out the obvious here, but why haven’t you used the claim?” Oz gestured with his head to indicate the scars visible on William’s neck.

Rubbing the marks, a bitter laugh escaped him. “Don’t think I haven’t tried. She’s closed me out. Only thing I can think of is that she’s trying to protect me from them. We know who’s in charge and Buffy drew a map of the general layout, but finding the actual entrance to the place has been a problem. We tried following Professor Walsh, but somehow she manages to slip past us every time.”

“Professor Walsh? Psychology Professor Walsh?”

“The same. She heads up the whole thing according to Buffy. And Finn is the little GI Joe in charge of her goon squad. He’s the one that tortured Buffy when she was in the first time. God, the things he did to her. When I think of what he might be doing to her now…”

The raw pain in the blonde’s expression brought a commiserating squeeze on the shoulder from the werewolf. William tried to force a smile but it died on his lips. Any form of levity seemed sacrilegious while Buffy and Willow were obviously suffering.

“That’s why I came to you. You said it yourself…” He mimicked Oz’s earlier gesture and tapped the end of his nose. “It never lies. You know Willow’s scent. Hopefully there is still something lingering even after all this time.”

Oz focused his attention on peeling the label from his beer bottle. He was quiet for so long that William felt a stir of fear that his pleas would be ignored. Finally, the smaller man lifted pain-filled eyes. “I’ll help. Even if I can’t be with Willow, I still love her. Maybe this is my chance to make up for some of the pain I caused her by leaving.”

William’s heartfelt thanks were drowned out by an overly dramatic groan of pain from the couch, followed by a resounding crash as Xander fell to the floor in a tangle of wildly flailing arms and legs. He flopped back and cradled his head in his hands.

“Will? Oz? Oh God, my head.”

“I suppose a convenient case of incurable amnesia was just too much to hope for,” William sighed.

Buffy lay completely still, childishly hoping that if she didn’t move, he would go away. He never did, of course. He was always right at the edge of her consciousness. Taunting. Tormenting. Hurting.


She didn’t know which was worse; the times when he took great pleasure in violating her body, or when he spent hours dreaming up new methods of torture that made her scream in agony.

Today he was more interested in torture than rape.

Cuts that barely had time to heal. Broken bones that never really mended. Burns that were seared over and over again into her soft, pale flesh.

And the bloodlust that raged continually through her.

It was getting harder and harder to distance her mind from the pain and degradation he inflicted on her; harder yet to resist the urge to open the claim and reach out to William. Every time her demon clamored forth, demanding she open the claim and seek the protection of her mate, she ruthlessly pushed it back. She was determined to get herself and Willow out of this mess without endangering William in any way.

“Wakey wakey, my little vampire,” Riley singsonged, running his hand up the inside of her naked thigh.

She flinched away from his touch, tugging at the straps that bound her spread legs to the table. A small sound of disgust burned from her dry throat as the hand continued to trail up her belly and breasts before tickling her under the chin. She growled and snapped viciously at his fingers before falling back with a whimper of pain.

“Tsk tsk! Why do you do that when you know all you’re gonna get is a big bad headache?” he chuckled.

“Why am I not surprised to learn that you were actually paying attention during the lectures on torture?” Maggie Walsh smiled fondly as she watched him working the tiny blond over.

He spared her a gleeful smile. “I slept through those stupid lectures. This is raw talent at work.”

“Are you still withholding blood?”

Riley nodded, flipping his fingers against the stake that he had imbedded less than an inch from Buffy’s heart, causing it to wiggle perilously. Rapidly growing bored with this diversion; he carelessly yanked it out and flung it away, smiling as she tried to smother her agonized shriek.

Maggie grimaced. Even as hardened as she was, the condition of the female vampire sickened her. Agent Finn had outdone himself. There wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t have some sort of damage. Except for her face. He never touched her face.

“I need to make an appearance on campus, but we have a meeting in two hours to discuss our plans for you. I can’t stress enough how important this is, so please make sure you’re on time,” she ordered, her usual clipped tone showing none of the revulsion she felt as she watched him trail his fingers through the blood on the Hostiles chest.

“I’ll be there!” Riley yelled impatiently. “Now, will you please go? It’s not any fun once she passes out.”

His unexpected rages and surges of supernatural strength were becoming even more unstable, Maggie noted mentally. She hurried from the room, deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to look into how much of the demon serum he was injecting himself with. She hated the uneasy feeling she had that things were escalating out of her control.

Riley heard the scurry of her footsteps and subsequent slam of the door, and rolled his eyes theatrically. Stupid woman was either prattling on about something or trying to get him to fuck her. As if he would prefer her over this pretty little doll.

Peeling off his clothing, he left it scattered carelessly across the floor. He boosted himself up on the table and crawled up her small, battered body, making sure he rubbed every bit of her naked skin with his.

A constant, whining growl rolled from her throat at his touch. She hadn’t slipped out of her demon’s visage for several days and she never spoke a word, no matter what he did to her. The only sounds she made were the purely animalistic growls, grunts, and snarls of her demon.

He continued to rub against her, slipping easily between her bound legs and grinding himself into her. He laughed at her as she struggled futilely against him.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chided. “Remember what I told you? Fight me and your little friend dies.”

Buffy turned her head from the rush of his fetid breath on her face, tears of misery and pain and rage rolling down her temples into her tangled hair.

“I kinda get the impression that she likes it here, though. At least she did last night. Seems she has a little ‘Night of the Living Dead’ fetish like your Slayer friend,” Riley chuckled.

In spite of her resolve to show no reaction to his barbs, her eyes flashed with an expression of disbelief.

“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t I tell you? We put her in with a vamp last night. She was all over him; especially when he bit her. They were still going at it when I left,” he said, running his tongue over her chest and leaving a slimy trail of saliva.

“Hopefully, she’ll enjoy what Dr. Walsh has planned for her tonight. I know I’ll be sorry to miss it, but I gotta go out and bag myself a Vampire Slayer tonight. Can’t wait to see what kind of tests Maggie has lined up for him. She can be even more inventive than me.”

Riley was too busy gloating to realize that by threatening the Slayer, he had just signed his death warrant. He never noticed the drastic change in Buffy’s demeanor as she allowed the cold, calculating demon to take over.

It’s about fucking time! It rejoiced gleefully.

Don’t blow this. We only have one VERY slim chance to make this work, Buffy chided.

Don’t worry about me, Elizabeth, the demon spat out. I know exactly what I need to do to protect OUR mate. Now, sit back, shut up, and watch what a master can do.

“You’re really going to take out the Slayer?” her voice was raspy from disuse, but the anticipatory inflection was unmistakable. She shook off her demon and arched her body into his. “Mmm, I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

His head shot up and the dumbfounded expression he wore was almost comical. “Huh?”

“I’ve been trying for years to kill that bastard. I almost had him before you idiots chipped me.”

“You want him dead? I thought he was your boyfriend or something like that,” Riley sputtered.

“That was all an act, you dumbass. Hello? I couldn’t best him in a fight even before the chip. No, I’ve discovered that force won’t get it done. I had to work from the inside. To kill this guy, I had to pretend to love him.”

She squeezed her thighs around him, almost laughing at his lustful moans. His ego was so enormous that it never occurred to him that she might be faking. Lifting her head, she ran her tongue around his ear and bit the lobe hard.

“If you think my leg muscles are amazing, imagine what I can do with my mouth,” she purred.

For obvious fangy reasons, this was something he hadn’t dared to attempt, but the erotic image of her kneeling in subjugation at his feet while she worshipped him with her lips and tongue was almost enough to make him come on the spot. He practically jumped off of her and began to tear at the straps that held her down, cursing his clumsiness when they didn’t loosen fast enough.

When the last strap fell free, Buffy sat up and allowed her slumberous eyes to sweep him from head to toe. Her small pink tongue slid out to wet her lips as she looked pointedly at his groin.

“Well, come on. What’re you waiting for?” Finn urged.

Buffy laid the back of one wrist delicately to her forehead and wavered slightly. “I’m just so weak and hungry. I…I don’t know if I have the strength.”

What the hell? This is NOT a good idea! Buffy cried.

Back off, blondie, I know what I’m doing! the demon hissed.

You’re pushing too hard. There’s no way he’s gonna…

“Can I trust you to drink from me?” he asked, unable to mask his eagerness. “It’ll take a while for them to bring anything and I don’t want to wait.”

Well, I’ll be damned!

“Of course you can.” She smiled sweetly as she took hold of his arm and turned it, baring the inner crease of his elbow. “It’s the least I can do since you’re taking care of my little Slayer problem. Close your eyes,” she ordered, running her tongue over his skin.

He obediently slammed his eyes shut, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

Men! Buffy thought scornfully as she shifted back into game face and bared her fangs. Always so predictable.

The chip didn’t even give a warning twinge as she bit down and took what he offered freely. He grimaced, an expression of complete ecstasy on his face as he began to thrust his hips in time with each pull she took of his blood.

She reached down and took him in hand, pumping and squeezing him hard as she withdrew her fangs and melted back into her human features. He made as if to kiss her and she quickly dodged him and dropped to her knees in front of him.

Forcing herself not to gag, she took him in her mouth. Mercifully, it didn’t take long for him to begin jerking in the throes of his orgasm. Buffy waited until she tasted the first drops on her tongue before she struck.

Sliding her mouth to the root of his penis, she vamped and bit down savagely, his agonized shrieks feeding the demon inside her. The chip was firing like mad and blood poured from her nose to mix with his, but she clamped down and shook her head like a terrier with a rat, shredding his flesh with her sharp teeth.

Riley fell backwards and sprawled on the floor. Blood flew and his hands batted weakly at her head as he tried to dislodge her. Following him down, Buffy finally released what was left of him, pausing for a moment to admire the destruction her fangs had wrought. Finn’s eyes were frantic as he stared up at the maniacal, blood-drenched grin of his executioner.

“Bet that stings, huh?” Buffy drawled, tilting her head to study his weakly panting form. “Funny how something that small can hurt so much, huh? But don’t worry; it won’t hurt for much longer. I should let you live the rest of your miserable existence with a pureed dick, but something tells me it still wouldn’t be enough to make you leave me and mine alone. I’m not going to spend another second being afraid of you, Finn.”

She leaned over him, ignoring his fading protests as she sank her fangs into his femoral artery. It didn’t take long to drain him since she had taken so much from his arm earlier. In spite of the blinding pain in her head, she smiled in satisfaction as his heart came to a stop.

Now that it was over, she wanted to collapse on the floor and give in to the pain, but she knew she had to hurry and get out before someone came to check on Finn. Snatching up his t-shirt and boxers, she yanked them on before shoving the table into the corner under the air vent. In seconds she was up in the ducts and working her way in the direction of the containment cells, her already healing body thrumming with energy from Riley Finn’s genetically enhanced blood.

 Chapter Fourteen

She peered out through the slats of the grate that hid her from their view. Buffy knew these people were far from stupid. They knew from her previous escape that she had utilized their ventilation system and that would be the first place they searched once they discovered Riley Finn’s mutilated corpse.

Just thinking about her revenge brought a surge of intense satisfaction. The sensation of her teeth tearing through flesh after so long was almost a chemically induced high, and a soft, purring growl vibrated through her chest as she relished the memory of his screams. Even after dropping down into a convenient bathroom for a quick wash, the rank smell of his blood still clung to her skin.

The room she was looking down on now was a kitchen of sorts. The glass-fronted refrigerators lining the walls were filled with packets of blood. Human blood. Someone had even considerately labeled them with the type. How handy, Buffy thought with a feral grin.

Another cabinet with a huge lock held a lethal looking selection of drugs. A pair of lab-coated technicians was injecting various syringes into a number of blood bags laid out on the table. Buffy seethed with impatience as she waited for the techs to finish their job and leave. She desperately needed more blood to finish the healing process that Riley’s enhanced blood had started. Whatever demon steroid he had been injecting himself with, the effects didn’t last long and she was already feeling the pain of her injuries.

While she waited on the techs, she rested her head on her drawn up knees. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked gently back and forth in an attempt to soothe the clamoring demon. It was kicking up a hell of a fuss to be unleashed on the unsuspecting humans, but she knew that losing control now wouldn’t help her or Willow.

A familiar scent coming up through the vent brought Buffy’s head up with a snarl and she scooted over to have a look down below her.

Maggie Walsh ordered the lackeys from the room. As soon as they had collected their work and fled, she made her way to the drug cabinet and began to rifle through the contents. She was so intent on what she was looking for she didn’t notice the ceiling vent pop open and a figure drop silently to the floor behind her.

Finding what she was seeking, Walsh grunted in satisfaction and slipped three vials into the pocket of her white lab coat. She was locking the cabinet back up when she suddenly became aware that she was being watched. Spinning around with a gasp, she was horrified by the sight of a very pissed off Buffy Summers in full vamp-face.

“H-How did you get loose?” she demanded, hating the fact that her voice quavered in spite of her best efforts. The vampire was between her and the door. She was obviously weakened from her wounds, but even so she was far stronger than Maggie could ever hope to be. What could Riley be thinking to release her like this?

Oh, God.

“Riley?”

Buffy bared her teeth in a gruesome facsimile of a smile. “Merrily roasting in Hell by now, I imagine. He should get along well there. Torture is the ‘in’ thing, or so I hear.”

“You killed him?” Maggie asked tightly. There had to be a way out of here with her throat intact. She eyed Buffy nervously, grimacing as she watched her take several blood packs from the fridge and drain them in quick succession.

“Yup.” Buffy tossed the empty packets to the floor. She found a small cloth sack and slipped some extra blood packets inside. “Well, first I bit his miserable little dick off. Then I drained him. By the way, those are some kick-ass drugs you’ve been feeding your boys, Doc. Make me feel all tingly, ya know?”

Maggie blanched. The girl spoke so casually of mutilating Finn. She had no doubt that her death would be just as painful.

Green eyes glowing with a feral light, Buffy was careful to keep herself between the older woman and the door. “I’m a veal kinda girl, myself. You’re too old to eat,” she said conversationally. “But not to kill.”

Moving quickly, she had Maggie by the throat and slammed her into the glass and metal cabinets. Buffy was so hyped up by whatever had been in Finn’s blood that she didn’t even acknowledge the chip firing as she manhandled Walsh.

“Lucky for you, I have to keep you alive just an eency, weency bit longer. You’re gonna help me and my redheaded friend get out of this hellhole. And, hey! Bonus. Do it without trying to fuck me over and I might decide to be a little benevolent and let you live. Cross me and I’ll take great pleasure in ripping your over-inflated head off. Got me?”

Gasping for much needed oxygen, Maggie nodded. She was counting on her men to step in as soon as they saw her with the escaped vampire. She only hoped they would be able to rescue her before the girl made good on her threat.

“Great! Now, first you’re gonna boost up one of these blood bags with some of that serum you hid in your pocket, and then we’re going Willow hunting.” Her eyes narrowed threateningly. “And don’t even try to overdose me with that shit. I saw how much the tech drew up earlier.”

Once she had dispensed the drug, Maggie watched in horror as the vampire dropped the remaining vials to the floor and crushed them beneath her bare heel.

Expecting to be led towards the door, she gave a shout of pain when Buffy yanked her over to stand beneath the open air vent.

“Up ya go, Mags,” she instructed cheerfully. “Watch that first step, it’s a doozy.”

“You can’t honestly expect me to…”

“Oh, but I do. I’m not stupid. If I walk into that holding area with you, your boys will be all over me. We’re doing this my way, so hop to it.”

Maggie eyed the vent and then the little vampire.

Buffy flashed her some fang. “Are you a gambling woman, Doc?”

Shaking her head, Maggie struggled up onto the table and from there into the vent, with Buffy right behind her.

~@~@~

Standing in the dusky twilight, William clenched his jaw and stared across the street at the Crawford Mansion.

He should have been with her that night. Instead of listening to her when she insisted he stay with Joyce and do some research, he should have left with her. They still might have run into the soldiers, but he would have been there to protect her from them.

They had yet to find a plausible reason for Willow being taken as well. She made no secret of the fact that she hated Buffy, lately even refusing outright to be in the same room with the vampire. What possible reason could she have had to be with Buffy on the night she was taken?

William was so lost in his thoughts that Oz had to speak twice before he got his attention.

“So, this is where they were grabbed?” he asked.

“No. A bit further on. Just past those shrubs. Three crypts come together and make an enclosure. I’m thinkin’ that’s how they cornered her. Once they trapped them in there, they didn’t have a chance.” William said his voice thick with frustrated anger.

“Let’s check it out.”

They walked quietly, both relieved that Xander had passed out in the back of car, providing a much needed respite from his nattering. When they reached the area, Oz prowled the perimeter, a soft growl rumbling through his chest.

“I can still taste their fear after all this time,” he muttered lifting his nose and sniffing the air. William’s eyes widened as the smaller man shook his head, allowing his face to partially transform into his were-visage. His eyes yellowed, his ears lifted and rose to sharp points, and his nose and mouth elongated.

Seeing Will’s start of surprise, Oz managed to look sheepish in spite of the sharp canines and amber eyes. “Sorry,” he said around a mouthful of fangs. “It’s a little talent I’ve been perfecting. It heightens the senses more this way.”

“Do what you gotta do, mate,” William encouraged. “Warn a fellow next time, though.”

Oz paced the area, moving further out with each pass. “Willow. Her scent changes radically from here,” he moved to the opening in the shrubs. “To this point here,” he commented.

“Meaning what?”

“Not liking the vibes, man,” was all Oz would say for the moment. They could discuss his theory later.

He suddenly stopped, nose twitching as he faced west. “I got it. We ready?” he asked tensely.

“Let’s go, before Xander wakes up and slows us down.”

William was grateful for his enhanced speed and stamina as Oz completed his transformation into the wolf and took off with his nose to the ground. They traveled for roughly three miles before they neared a copse of trees.

Oz nearly smashed his head in as he came up against the huge grey boulder that marked the end of their hunt. Quickly shaking off the wolf, he began to sniff around the rock.

“Hidden entrance, Will; look for a trigger of some sort,” he muttered.

They dropped to their hands and knees, scrounging through the thick undergrowth. William had to hastily suppress a shout of triumph when he found the tiny green light glowing under a clump of decaying leaves. Beside it was a slightly larger black button. When he warily pushed it, the face of the rock opened to reveal a sterile-looking white elevator.

“Jackpot!” Oz grinned. His grin quickly turned into a look of stunned surprise when the Slayer stepped inside. “What the hell? Will, no! Use your damned head, man. If the elevator is up here, that means THEY are out here somewhere. If they come back and find it has been taken down below, the game is up.”

“We have to know where it opens up at down there, Oz. We’ll be going in blind otherwise and I’d really rather not do that. If they come back…fuck, I don’t know! Distract them, or something.”

Oz had a mental picture of himself running before a pack of baying mutant soldiers with big guns. “Cool, I’m bait,” he quipped sarcastically.

Will grinned. With a smart-assed salute, he hit the button inside and the doors swished closed.

Once he was alone, the cocky smile vanished and lines of fatigue and tension bracketed his eyes and mouth. The ride down was sickeningly fast and his stomach lurched in spite of its hollow state.

When it thudded to a halt he barely had the presence of mind to hide off to the side of the swiftly opening doors. Holding in on the button to keep the doors open, he peered cautiously around the edge.

It’s fucking huge! That was his first thought. How something this big had been constructed without the knowledge of the residents of Sunnydale was a mystery. His next concern was how in the world he would ever find Buffy and Willow in such a vast space.

He took in as many details of the immediate area as he could from this vantage point. The temptation to slip out and take a better look was strong, but he knew he was endangering the life of a good friend if he stayed any longer. He had no doubt that Oz would make good on his biting threat and he had no desire to find out if he looked better in fur than he did in leather. With a sigh of resignation and a whispered promise for Buffy that he would return soon, he closed the door and hit the button to return to the surface.

All was quiet when the doors slid open when he reached topside.

Too quiet.

The sound of voices raised in fear and ripping growls came from just over the next rise. Without a thought to his own safety, William took off at a dead run in their direction.

Two humans dressed in army green had Oz cornered in a small grouping of boulders. The werewolf was braced for attack, snarling and snapping at them viciously.

With a blood-curdling roar of pent-up rage, William leapt into the fray. The soldiers never knew what hit them. Slipping easily back into his human guise, Oz sat back and watched as the Slayer quickly incapacitated the frightened duo. It was over in less than a minute, the men lying unconscious at their feet.

Oz nudged one of them with a sneakered foot. “So,” he deadpanned. “I’d say they’re about our size, Will. How do you think I’ll look in baby-shit green?” The smaller man was already relieving the commandos of the handcuffs at their belts and trussing them up.

Realizing where he was going with this, William smiled tiredly. “You want to guard them while I go get the car?”

Moonlight glinted on the pearly edge of a fang as Will looked into the eyes of a predator.

“Right then. Taking that as a yes.” And he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, praying to a God that had lately been lax in His duties that Xan was a really heavy sleeper.

He had some damsels to save.

Chapter Fifteen

Maggie Walsh was completely unnerved.

They were resting before heading off down another of the interminable tunnels that ran across the ceiling of the Initiative. She was huddled on one side while the blond vampiress sat with her back propped against the thin, sheet metal wall across from her.

Buffy had already drained several of the bags of human blood she had taken from the fridge in the lab, saving the genetically altered pouch for last. She was sipping slowly from it now, her oddly beautiful green eyes shining like jewels in the faint light as she stared at her hostage.

Walsh watched in amazement as the creature healed right before her eyes. Not completely—Riley had done a pretty thorough job on her, after all—but soon all that remained were the more serious of the cuts, burns, and bruises.

Draining the drugged bag, Buffy tossed it aside and sat back to savor the rush that swept through her. The heightening of her senses was incredible. Her already enhanced hearing was so in tune with her surroundings that she could hear the human’s muscles tense beneath her skin.

“Where were you people in the sixties?” she muttered with a smirk. “Coulda made a fortune off of this shit back then.”

“I was at Harvard in the sixties,” Maggie informed her stiffly. “I was thirteen at the time.”

“Oh, goody, we’re gonna converse!” Buffy snickered. “So, you were a child prodigy. Guess back then you weren’t quite the dedicated destructor of sentient beings that you are today, huh? Probably hadn’t realized your full potential yet.”

“A vampire killed my parents,” the woman spat. “I’ve always known the path my life would take!”

“Too bad he didn’t suck ‘em dry before you were spawned. My life would be a lot simpler.” Buffy yawned in an ostentatious display of boredom. A sly smile tickled her lips as her demon relished the waves of hate and frustration wafting from Walsh.

“I was second only to one in my graduating class,” Maggie informed her pompously. “The government was eager to utilize my skills as a--”

“Skills, schmillz,” Buffy cut her off. “We all know who you were scooped by. Right, Maggie? You got tapped by a second rate demon CIA and little Joycie got packed off to the prestigious Watcher’s Council. Denied again, huh? Sucks to be you.”

Her vitriolic comments were simple guesswork, but Buffy could tell she’d struck a nerve.

“What’s the matter, Maggie, you gonna cry?” she sneered. “Aww, you are!”

Walsh glared. “Stop it!”

“Oh, all right, but only because you’re boring and I can’t stand listening to you snivel like a damned baby.” Buffy sniffed at the change in the air and pointed down the tunnel that branched off to the left. “Slight change of plans. Down there. Move.”

“But that one leads to the labs.”

Buffy just smiled.


~*~*~

In spite of the debilitating chip, the retrieval team had to hit the over-protective vampire with the tazers countless times before he finally dropped, enabling them to drag a screaming Willow from his side. It had been at least twelve hours since she had been returned- kicking and thrashing- to her cell. From there she had watched with tear-filled eyes, waiting and hoping desperately for some sign of him being taken into one of the containment cells.

After an hour with no sign of Trey, Willow slumped to the floor and sobbed brokenly. She was haunted by her last sight of him, lying so still with blood trickling from his ears and nose. He’d been hurt trying to protect her, becoming yet another casualty in her twisted vendetta against Buffy.

Buffy…

The cell across from hers was still ominously empty. Willow curled into herself and gave in to her despair.


~*~*~

Xander slouched petulantly in his chair. “Why do I have to be the one to stay behind while Will and Oz get to dress up in the cool army gear and play the hero’s?” he demanded of Joyce.

“Xander, we’ve been over this countless times. William and Oz are going to have to move fast and you’ll only get in the way.” Gritting her teeth, Joyce struggled for patience. She was beginning to wish she had let William stuff the brunette in a handy closet like he’d wanted to.

“I have experience with the Army!” the young man sulked. At her look of disbelief, he slumped further down. “Well, I do!”

The Watcher finally lost her temper. “You were turned into a soldier for three hours one Halloween night. I’d hardly say that qualifies you as experienced!”


~*~*~

Junior Holloway had nurtured big dreams when he joined the Initiative two years ago. The pay had been a substantial incentive and he’d envisioned himself moving quickly through the ranks until he enjoyed one of the loftier positions with the likes of Riley Finn and his cronies, Forrest and Graham.

Instead, his embarrassing test scores- both academic and physical fitness- had condemned him to serving his country in what he considered to be the most demeaning capacity. Armed with a mop and bucket, Junior spent his days cleaning up after the creatures Finn and his men brought in for the scientists to experiment on.

After being called to the carpet and humiliated on several occasions by the great Maggie Walsh herself, Junior nursed a fearsome grudge against their illustrious leader. Stupid bitch! Didn’t she realize how hard Chaos demon slime was to get out of a carpet? And what the hell had she been doing with said demon in her quarters anyway? He shuddered at the thought.

So, when he saw Maggie Walsh being led into one of the surgeries by that pretty little vamp that Finn was so keen on, Junior stifled a grin and continued to push his mop back and forth like the good little soldier he was. He told himself he hadn’t seen Walsh glaring at him with a pleading expression, silently urging him to alert someone to her situation.

Nope. Junior Holloway hadn’t seen a thing.


~*~*~

Buffy manufactured a garrote out of some very thin wire and a pen from Walsh’s lab coat. Twisting it around the older woman’s throat, she forced Maggie to kneel beside the metal table while she herself stretched out on its cool surface.

The horrified expression on the Oriental professor’s face was priceless. Dr. Hiroto had protested, of course, but the sight of his superior’s blood trickling down her neck as the thin wire cut into her skin changed his mind. The vampire’s threat was clear- make one false move and Professor Walsh would be instantly and efficiently decapitated.

“You just watch those slippy fingers, Doc.” Buffy’s green eyes sparkled with good humor as she stared up at the agitated man. “Once the chip is out and I’m back on my feet, I’ll let your precious Maggie go.”

Maggie bit her lip against the fiery pain at her throat. “Do as she says, Hiroto. With or without the chip, she’ll never make it out of here. We can always put it back when she is captured,” she assured him arrogantly.

Buffy giggled and tightened her grip, her small nose twitching at the sour smell of Walsh’s blood. She would keep her word and let Maggie go once it was done.

Nothing was said about draining her first.

TBC

Chapter Sixteen

“What are you two doing here? This is a restricted area!” The scrawny little lab technician drew himself up and tried to look authoritative. “I’m going to have to ask to see your ID’s.”

William and Oz froze in their tracks and turned to face their newest threat. This was the third time they had been stopped since coming in through the hidden entrance. While William fumbled in the pockets of his borrowed fatigues, Oz calmly reached out and pinched the distracted tech in the soft tissues of his neck. The tech went down like a stone.

“You know, you’re really gonna have to teach me how to do that, mate,” William muttered quietly, leery of drawing more attention to their presence.

Oz quirked a smile and raised his hand, fingers parted in the age-old Vulcan symbol. “Live long and prosper, Jim.” Will snickered softly in appreciation.

They came out of the tunnel and onto a catwalk that overlooked the main floor of the complex. For the first time, Oz’s reaction was slightly less than laid back.

“My God,” he murmured. “You said it was big. You told me, but you never said it was huge!”

William rolled his eyes. “Let’s go,” he urged.

They headed for the nearest stairway and began to descend. About halfway down they had to pass three soldiers tromping upwards wearing uniforms identical to theirs. As they elbowed their way through, William was stunned when Oz suddenly let loose with a low but vicious growl.

“What the fuck?” he hissed.

“Willow,” Oz ground out, his eyes flashing with the opalescent sheen of the wolf. “All three of them smell like Willow, and she’s terrified.”

“Can you track her?”

The shorter man lifted his head, nostrils flaring. “Already am.”

It was hard to remain unobtrusive while moving at such a clip, but Oz only had one thought; get to the woman he would always consider his mate. Fortunately, no one was paying too much attention to them down here. They all seemed pretty worked up about something. Letting Oz go ahead a few paces, William paused to eavesdrop on one particularly large group.

“Finn is dead, and we have to assume that Professor Walsh is, too,” a tall, beefy looking officer said. He looked more than a little twitchy around the eyes. “We have no reason to believe that this hostile isn’t following the same route as her earlier escape. If she is, we can corner her when she comes out of the air ducts and take her out there.”

One of the commandos close to Will spoke up. “Is it true that she, uh… She, uh,” “You know… Bithisthingoff?” he rushed out. Every man standing there flinched and fought the urge to grab themselves.

The squad leader called them all to order. “We don’t know if the chip has stopped functioning or not, but from what was done to Finn, I’d have to say; yes, it has. Do not attempt to take her out on your own. She might look small and defenseless, but she is a vicious animal. Call immediately for back-up. That is all.”

The soldiers quickly began to disperse and William felt a surge of elation. It was Buffy. It had to be. Somehow she had taken that wanker Finn down and escaped into the ventilation system again.

His heart was thundering and he had to fight back the urge to follow the disappearing soldiers. He had to find Oz first and help him get Willow out of here if possible.

Cursing, he rushed after his friend.

~*~*~

Buffy sat up and prodded cautiously at the back of her head. “Wow, that was fast. Now to see if you really took it out, or if I have to rip your lady-boss’s head off. C’mere, Doc.”

Mincing forward, Hiroto gave Walsh an apologetic glance. Before he could say a word, Buffy popped him in the nose. Her only reaction as he slid to the floor in a daze was a hoot of triumph.

“Yeah! Oh my God, this is so fantastic!” She laughed gleefully in Walsh’s face. Even the massive headache she had couldn’t stem her joy at finally being free of her electronic leash.

Maggie flinched away as the garrote Buffy still held cut into her flesh. “You might as well kill me now,” she hissed. “You’ll never make it out of here, you realize that don’t you?”

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. “Did before.”

In spite of her predicament, the good doctor smiled. “Pure luck. My men have their orders to destroy you on sight. They won’t fail me this time.”

“Please!” Buffy scoffed. “I out-smarted them all when I escaped the last time. Finn was the best you had, and he’s just a little bit dead right now.” She took an enormous amount of pleasure in throwing that fact in the other woman’s face. “They’re all probably out there chasing their own asses around trying to find you. Getting caught is the least of my worries.”

“I don’t think it’s my men you have to worry about, is it, Hostile?” Walsh insinuated slyly. For once Finn’s obsession with the little bitch would pay off.

Buffy narrowed her eyes threateningly. “What are you babbling about now?” Dread caused her belly to cramp in a sickening fashion.

“Sure, you might make it out of here, but you’ll only make it so far. You’ll run right back to your Slayer boyfriend, and he’s going to be waiting for you with open arms...until he finds out you no longer have that chip.” She smiled maliciously as she continued, “What do you think he’ll do then, Hostile?”

Nothing of what she was feeling showed on her face, but inside Buffy was a roiling mass of gut-wrenching fear. At the time she had been too hyped up at the thought of actually getting the chip out to think of the ramifications.

Of course the demon rejoiced; it was free to indulge once again in its true nature, to hunt once more. To wallow again in the blood of its prey, blood that wasn’t flat and tasteless, but properly seasoned with the spicy tang of terror that it had reveled in for over a hundred years.

It eyed the scrawny neck of its captive, enthralled by the thin trail of blood that wended its way down from the wound.

‘Do it,’ the demon hissed.

Another droplet welled up and began to slide down, holding her in its hypnotic thrall.

‘Do it!’ it insisted, oozing with confidence that its force of will would win out. 'Look at it. Smell it. You know you want it.'

It would be easy. Oh, so very easy to answer the call of crimson sustenance that had been so long denied. But the softer side, the side that housed the last vestiges of the Elizabeth she had been, the side that had dared to fall in love with the slayer of her kind, surged forth.

“No.”

It took every ounce of control that she possessed to push the demon back down, but it finally subsided with a petulant snarl.

Buffy battled the sting of tears. She knew in her heart that once her secret was out, it was over between them. There was no way she could go back to the way she was before, but William would never trust her to abstain. Trust for him was the small plastic chip that was no longer nestled in her head, and now that it was gone there was only one alternative.

Having made her decision, Buffy undid the wire and let the woman slump down into a chair. Walsh eyed her with something akin to amazement as she began tearing a sheet and binding her to the chair with the long strips.

“What? What are you doing?” she asked in confusion.

“Buying myself some time.” Smiling sadly, Buffy tied off the last strip and stepped back.

“But…you aren’t going to kill me?” Walsh stammered as the chair she was bound to was dragged into a supply closet.

Buffy stared down at her, hanging on to her self-control by sheer strength of will.

“As much as it kills me to admit it, you’re right. If I had taken a few minutes to think about my actions, I probably wouldn’t have done it. But it’s gone now and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Her resigned sigh had more than a quiver of regret. “The only thing I can do now is make sure he never has to make the decision to take me out. I love him too much for that.”

Walsh made a face of pure disgust. “Love? You’re a demon, you’re incapable of—”

The slamming of the door cut off her diatribe. Pausing only to tie up the still unconscious Dr. Hiroto, Buffy left the lab and made her way through the maze of hallways to the main floor.

Uncaring of the utter chaos that reigned around her, she found the nearest stairway to the upper level and began to climb. Bitter tears streaked her face and the occasional sob broke free, but still she climbed.

On the main catwalk, she suddenly froze. As she glanced down into the heaving mass of humans and demons below, both hands found and gripped the handrail with enough force to bend the steel.

William.

He was here. He and Oz were supporting a practically lifeless Willow between them while a dark-haired vamp in hospital scrubs cleared a path for them.

As if sensing her presence, Will looked up. Their eyes met; hers wet with tears, his wide with shocked amazement.

‘Buffy!’

She swore she could hear the jubilation in his voice as he said her name. She was just as certain that she heard the final crack as her heart broke and bled.

For one last time, Buffy opened herself up to him and sent every ounce of love she felt for him through the claim. She nearly buckled from the onslaught as he projected his feelings back to her.

Refusing to look away, she shook her head sadly and mouthed ‘goodbye’ to him. His fear and disbelief were palpable even across the distance between them. He shook his head vehemently and tried to shrug off Willow’s clinging arms.

‘No! Buffy, wait!’

Nearly blinded by her tears, she blew him a final kiss. And in the midst of all the confusion, she walked away.

Chapter Seventeen

Willow lay listlessly on her bed. After only two days of nearly suffocating concern, her parents had reverted back to their usual laissez-faire attitude towards her well-being. Her mother was back in her LA office, while her father was somewhere in the middle of the Pacific en route to Japan. They hadn’t the faintest inkling of how to help their wounded daughter heal. Not that she held it against them. It wasn’t their fault that they had a briefcase where their hearts should be, and besides; how could they help her, really?

Her physical injuries were healing, but it would be a long time before the mental scars faded. Her friends had been wonderfully supportive and made sure to stop by at least once a day. Xander brought her a sweet little stuffed monkey, Joyce made sure she had her favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Oz just sat and held her hand while she cried. Only one was conspicuously absent.

William.

Not that she blamed him. She didn’t deserve to be forgiven. If their positions were reversed, she doubted she would be so forgiving either. Because of her petty jealousies, she had irreparably damaged their friendship.

She had to swallow hard to dislodge the knot of tears that clogged her throat, because in a way, their positions had been reversed.

Trey.

She had a vague memory of him fighting alongside William to get them out of the Initiative. Once they were out, there was a brief, bloody spat between him and Oz over who would be the one to carry her. William has stepped in at that point. Dragging the combatants apart, he’d left Oz to carry Willow while he dragged Trey off to the side for a little chat. She remembered staring into his anguished eyes over Oz’s shoulder, an endless moment of silent communion before the world faded to black.

Silent tears of regret rolled down her face, dripping off her trembling chin to wet the stuffed monkey’s fur. There was more than a passing temptation to resort to magic; to make some attempt to right the shambles her life had become. The notion was ruthlessly squashed. Magic was what had gotten her into this mess. Buffy had been right that day in the cave. Magic always had consequences.

Curling up on her side, she thought about Buffy; wondered where she had run off to. Xander had been full of the details, prattling endlessly about how the blonde vampire had managed to get her chip out and was no doubt lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and rip all their throats out.

Willow silently lauded Buffy’s decision. Xander truly had no clue. He hadn’t been there to see Buffy fight- in spite of the chip and against incredible odds- to protect a girl who had betrayed her for the flimsiest of reasons.

All because she was William’s friend.

She was interrupted from her musings by a light tap on her door. Thinking it was the maid back to pester her about eating, she called out a slightly testy, “come in!” without bothering to turn over.

“I can come back later if you’re tired.”

Her head whipped around, eyes widening with shock to see William standing hesitantly in the doorway. She was once again battling tears as she sat up hastily. “No! Come in, Will, please,” she begged.

He looked awful. Dark circles ringed his tired eyes and his cheekbones were even more prominent than usual. William silently approached the bed and sank down wearily beside her. His whole demeanor screamed defeat, and it tore her heart out to see him this way.

This was all her fault and it was up to her to put it right.

If William had chosen that moment to look at her, he would have been more than a little alarmed to see Willow wearing her famous ‘resolve’ face. Instead, he kept his eyes on the hands clenched in his lap and began to speak.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” he muttered. “It’s… I’ve been…”

“Looking for Buffy?” Willow supplied helpfully. She reached out and tentatively brushed his fist with trembling fingers. “No sign of her?”

“None. It’s like she disappeared off the face of the earth.” Will heaved a great, gusty sigh. “The claim… I can’t feel her anymore.”

The muscles in his jaw stood out dramatically as he clenched his teeth, obviously mistaking her silence for censure. “I suppose you’re thinking the same as Xander, yeah? That she’s just waiting for her chance to kill us all? Bloody pillock! He was just fine with it when--”

“When he thought she was toothless?” Willow interrupted his rant. “Will, Xander is a big ol’ fraidy cat where Buffy is concerned. I mean she did knock him unconscious and kidnap us. Although, I have forgiven her for the whole bottle in the face thing and the ‘I’m gonna eat you!’ thing and I’m babbling so I’m just gonna shut up now, okay?”

Her fluttery, Willow-esque behavior teased a reluctant smile from him. “God knows how many times the chit has kicked him in the balls,” he added with a short bark of laughter.

Willow nodded her enthusiastic agreement with a giggle of her own. “I think he walks with a permanent limp now because of that.”

Their shared laughter wound down to an uncomfortable silence. Will leapt to his feet and began to pace a path between the French doors and her bed. She watched him pause in front of the glass doors and then make several more dizzying laps before reaching out to snag his arm in passing.

‘Sit down, Will,” she urged. To her surprise he complied, slumping down on the bed once more.

“So, what’s the verdict, Rosenburg?” He was back to avoiding her eyes. “If- no, when- I find Buffy and bring her back, are you gonna keep givin’ us grief?”

Willow gave him a sad, quirky smile, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I hardly think that I’m in the position to be so judgmental anymore, do you?”

He frowned. ‘Bit different, don’t you think? You wer--”

“A completely willing participant,” she cut him off. “There was no rape, Will. He was gentle and considerate and…” She shivered, losing herself in remembered ecstasy. “Majestic,” she whispered.

William raised an eyebrow. “Majestic, huh?” he prodded. “Majestic.”

She shook herself, dragging herself back to the present with obvious effort. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Majestic.” She frowned ferociously. “Are you making fun of me, William?”

“Nope!” He stood up, holding up his hands in defense. “Just makin’ sure of things.”

To her amazement, he walked back over to the French doors and pulled them open dramatically before letting out a piercing whistle. When there was no response to his summons, he glanced back at her and rolled his eyes before stepping just outside. She could hear him talking to someone, but couldn’t make sense of the angry whispers.

“William! What are you doing? If the neighbors see you, I’ll never hear the end of it from my parents!” she hissed. “Get in here!”

She was just getting out of her bed to investigate when she heard William curse and say, ‘you heard her, Mr. Majestic, get your bloody arse in there!’, followed by a muffled thump and an indignant shout of pain before a dark-haired figure came flying through the doors and sprawled face down on her floor.

“Trey?” Willow was aghast. She reached up to rub her eyes and then looked again. He rolled over on his back and propped himself up on his elbows with a sheepish smile.

“Hey, Willow. How ya been, sugar?”

That voice. That oh-so-sexy voice that echoed with the faintest vestiges of mint juleps and mimosas. It was really him. He laid there, a hint of fearful insecurity in his golden, cat-like eyes, looking rumpled and sexy and yummy enough to eat…

And she was wearing the ugliest flannel nightgown ever made paired with fuzzy, neon green bed socks.

Willow shrieked and scrambled back into bed, diving under the shelter of the quilt where she could seethe in private. How dare William do this to her! She looked like crap! Stupid man!

Hands were pulling at the blankets over her head and she batted at them ineffectually. “Damn you, William!” She could hear his snickers and it only increased her ire. “Don’t think I won’t get even with you for this!” she ranted.


She lost the battle for the blankets and gulped as they were whipped completely off the bed to reveal her huddled form. She squinched her eyes shut and covered her face with her hands, her body stiff as a board as she lay there.

Cool fingers brushed over her still obscenely short hair and then trailed down over her flushed pink cheek with infinite gentleness. “Willow?” he cajoled sweetly. “Please, darlin’, look at me.”

Finally giving in to the inevitable, she moved her hands and opened her eyes. They stared at each other in silence for one breathless moment before she gave an inarticulate cry and flung herself into his arms.

Both were oblivious as William let himself out of the room, a sad smile on his face.

Now, if only he could find Buffy.

~*~*~

Underneath Sunnydale, the initiative was almost back to normal operations. Or what passed for normal, anyway.

Hiroto grimaced as a group of soldiers heaved their latest acquisition up on the steel table. As far as he was concerned, his transfer papers couldn’t go through fast enough. Walsh’s endless ranting over the vampire that got away was beginning to wear on even the sturdiest of nerves. The troops were out in force every night searching for her, but so far they’d had no luck. Hiroto was glad. One encounter with that vicious little minx was more than enough.

The smell of the unconscious demon was atrocious. He pulled up his mask to block some of the stench and set to work, wondering how best to cut through the thick, bony plates that covered the beast. Perhaps an acetylene torch, he mused.

Junior Holloway was minding his own business, mindlessly swishing his wet mop over the endless miles of concrete flooring. He hated almost every aspect of his job, but swabbing down the labs was the worst. The only redeeming aspect was what he learned about the beasts they brought in to experiment on. He was idly watching Hiroto work when he saw him pick up a cutting torch and try to light it.

“Uh…doc?” Junior said hesitantly. “You might not wanna--”

“Please, go away,” Hiroto told him in a lofty tone of voice. The torch flickered but didn’t ignite. He cursed it quietly and tried again. And again.

His mop handle hit the floor with a crash and Junior was high-tailing it out of the labs, his feet barely touching the floor in his haste. He barreled up the stairs to the upper level, straining desperately to get as far away from the labs as possible.

Junior knew from his eavesdropping that this particular demon’s defensive weapon was a pungent gas similar to methane that it secreted when threatened. A highly flammable gas. And Hiroto was lighting an acetylene torch to cut with…

!!KABOOM!!

The explosion knocked him right out of his army-issue boots and sent him flying out the tunnel used by the Initiative’s carpool. He pin-wheeled his arms wildly, screaming as he flew through the air and landed in a tangle of scrubby shrubbery. He lay there, stunned as more explosions rocked the earth beneath him and smoke and flames belched from the cave.

He staggered to his feet, making a hideous face as he realized that he’d shit himself out of sheer fright. Junior didn’t give a rat’s ass about his soiled trousers, though. He could only stand there and gape as the once powerful government agency imploded.

God! he thought. Could anyone live through that? All those lab technicians and surgeons, his fellow soldiers and Professor Walsh. He was sure he could hear their terrified screams above the roar of the fire and the rumble and screech of collapsing metal grid-work.

Junior plopped down on the ground, completely oblivious to his squishy, smelly pants as he sat dumbly and watched the Initiative burn.

Chapter Eighteen

William pulled into the parking spot closest to the Hyperion and killed the engine. His set, indifferent expression never faltered as he stared up at the imposing pile of bricks that Faith had acquired and now used as a base of operations for her private investigations agency.

If someone had told him six months ago that he would be coming here for any other reason but Faith, he would have laughed in their face. He had wallowed for so long in the wake of Faith’s defection from his life that he truly hadn’t seen an end to the torment in sight.

Until Buffy.

Faith was his last resort. If she didn’t know where her grand-childe was hiding, then no one would. Exactly how he was going to approach the former love of his life about the matter was anyone’s guess. Faith had never made a secret of her feelings for the little blonde pain in her ass, and Will had no reason to believe that she’d changed her mind in the past few months.

Might as well get it over with. He got out of the car and bounded up onto the sidewalk. He was halfway to the doors when he slammed to a stop. What the… Yes, there it was again; the faintest whisper across the back of his neck. His heart leapt as he whirled around, eyes wild with hope as he scanned the dimly lit street.

Nothing.

Damn. He wanted to feel her presence so badly that now he was starting to imagine things. With one last look, he turned around and pushed his way through the glass doors.

A small shadow detached itself from those around her and moved out of the alley. Sad green eyes watched as he entered the building before turning to slip away into the darkness.

Some things just never changed.

~*~*~

Roughly an hour later he was back out on the sidewalk, shoulders slumped in defeat.

She’d laughed at first, refusing to believe him. He’d had to resort to showing her Buffy’s marks on his neck to prove it.

Then she got mad and flat out refused to lend a hand in searching for her errant grand-childe.

“I leave so you can have a normal life and you shack up with that little bitch?” she’d raged. “You better hope you find her first, Will, because if I find her, I’m gonna do what I should have done the day she crawled out of her grave.”

William shook his head with a bitter smile. Typical Faith. She didn’t want him, but that didn’t mean anyone else could have him, especially if it was Buffy.

Heaving a dejected sigh, he started towards his car. He might as well head back to Sunnydale and start all over. Maybe Willy the Snitch had heard something. Even if he hadn’t, at least Will could get piss drunk and work out some of his frustrations by knocking the slimy little toad around.

He was getting ready to slide into the car when he heard a faint, faraway scream. His senses started going haywire and he slammed the door closed and took off across the street and into a dank alley. Another scream, this one sounding a little closer. The distinct sounds of fighting made his blood pump harder, tension and need slowing his pace.

‘I’m gonna feel awful stupid if this is just a couple of drunks fighting over a hooker,’ Will thought with a grimace. ‘This is LA, after all. Fighting doesn’t always equal vampires here.’

But he knew before he reached them that it was in fact vampires. The tingle from earlier was a maddening itchy crawl up and down his spine. There were three of them, and they seemed to be fighting over a cowering old woman clutching at a yapping dog, her groceries scattered all round her.

“Look, guys.” A light feminine voice carried over the animalistic grunts of the two hulking males. “Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you have to smell like it, ya know? ‘Cause, damn! You both reek!”

Will froze, waiting in breathless anticipation as a tiny blonde whirlwind landed a vicious kick to the groin of one of her opponents. He went down with a garbled scream.

“I’m gonna bathe in your blood, little girl!” his partner growled, lunging for her with fangs bared.

“At least you’d be bathing,” Buffy quipped as she shoved the stake she held into his chest. A look of stunned surprise twisted his deformed face comically before he exploded into a shower of ash.

He watched her from the shadows as she limped over to the first vampire and cut off his screams with a careless thrust of her stake. She was obviously hurt, her left arm dangled uselessly while the other cradled her ribs. She made her way over to the old woman and knelt down beside her. Will saw her smile as she reached out to fondle the little dog’s ears.

“W-what were those… those things?” The old woman quavered as Buffy helped her to her feet and then bent to pick up her spilled food.

“Vampires,” Buffy informed her tersely. “And yes, they do exist. Probably the only thing that saved you was that cross you’re wearing.” She indicated the ornate cross with a wave of her hand.

The old woman reached up with a gnarled hand and fondled her crucifix. “A-are you…one of them?”

“Yeah.” Stuffing the last of the groceries into the carrier bag, she stood awkwardly to hand it over. “Don’t worry, though,” she said with a faint smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m kind of a vegetarian.”

A soft titter of laughter greeted her little joke. “Well, you’re certainly my heroine! Please, tell me what can I do to thank you, dear?”

Buffy shook her head and stepped away briskly. “Nothing. Just promise me you won’t take the shortcut home from now on. And make sure you stay in the light. Oh! and keep that cross on if you don’t wanna be vamp-chow.”

She was regarded from suspiciously bright eyes. “What is your name, honey? I’d like to know it so I can mention you in my prayers tonight.”

William saw the look of awe on Buffy’s face and felt a suspicious prickle behind his eyes. Yeah, this was the ravenous creature that featured nightly in Xander Harris’ nightmares. This was the monster that he vehemently maintained was leaving a bloody swathe through the countryside. A soulless demon that had just saved the life of an old woman and grew flustered when she was thanked with the promise of nightly prayers.

Their conversation finished, Buffy stood quietly and watched the woman totter off, scolding her little dog to keep up with her. She waited until they were out of sight before she spoke.

“You could have helped, you know,” she said softly, refusing to turn and face him. “Those vamps were majorly stupid but they were strong.”

Stepping into the glow of the security light, Will stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on the heels of his trainers. “Came in on the tail end, luv. You made them dusty before I could make my grand entrance.”

He watched as she walked over to the nearest building and almost nonchalantly slammed her shoulder into it, biting back a scream of pain when the arm popped back into place. He winced in sympathy. “Jesus, Buffy!”

She ignored him. Still favoring her right leg, she made her way over and squatted painfully beside a small backpack lying by the fence. She came up with a fresh stake in her hand and lobbed it carelessly at him.

“There ya go,” she told him, smirking as he caught it without even looking at it. “Freshly whittled with my own two little hands. I realize you obviously have one tucked away somewhere, but I’d prefer one that hasn’t been used on someone else.”

Will broke away from the challenging green eyes and looked down. He curled his fingers around the smooth wood, testing its weight in his fist and admiring the glossy finish. When he glanced back up at her, he saw that she had closed her eyes and held her arms out to her sides, offering him a perfect target.

He approached her slowly, raising the stake and resting the tip lightly above her left breast. He pressed down lightly, noting her flinch as he did so. Easing up, he trailed the tip down over the slope of her breast and slowly circled her distended nipple where it poked through the soft material of her t-shirt; his eyes never leaving her set and determined face.

Buffy was shivering, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, battling the sudden rush of arousal as he gently teased the tip of her breast. “Please, Will, just get it over with,” she begged in a broken little voice.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he demanded, his voice harsher than he had intended. When she complied, they stared at each other in a wordless battle of wills until William let lose with a guttural moan of frustration and smashed his lips down on hers, kissing her with savage intent.

The stake clattered forgotten to the ground.

For one heart-stopping moment she surrendered, wilting against him in an unconscious reenactment of every Hollywood love story ever to appear on the silver screen. She moaned; the sound lost in the warm mouth that plundered hers. She’d missed this- missed him so much that she ached with it. It would be so easy to give in, to forget the extremely valid reasons behind why she’d walked away that day. Reason returned all too quickly, though, and she shoved him away with a snarl.

“Stop it!” she snapped. “You’re supposed to be killing me, not sticking your tongue down my throat!

“But you like my tongue,” he taunted, poking it out and wiggling it at her for emphasis.

His refusal to take her seriously infuriated her further. She scooped up the stake and thrust it towards him. “Dammit, quit fooling around and do your fucking job, Slayer!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down.” He held out his hand, waiting until the last second and snatching it back before she could lay it in his palm. “Answer me one question, though, will you, pet?”

Her sigh was fraught with impatience. “What?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why am I supposed to dust you?”

Steam was practically rolling from her ears. She glared at him, wishing she could rip that sweet little smile off his face. “Because that’s what you came here for?” she ground out, speaking slowly so he wouldn’t misunderstand her.

“Funny, I thought I came here to take you home,” he stated, looking adorably perplexed.

Buffy raked her fingers through her hair and let out a tortured scream of frustration. “God! There’s no talking to you!”

He promptly dropped the cutesy pose and gifted her with his most glacial stare. “Obviously not, since you left me without a word of explanation.”

She shrugged. “I did what I thought was right.”

“Right for who? Me… or you?”

“You think I wanted to leave?” Buffy demanded. “You think it was easy for me to just walk away? I don’t have the chip anymore, Will. I can kill humans again.”

William prowled towards her, stalking her backwards until she came up against the building behind her. Buffy’s eyes flickered nervously, avoiding his as he braced his hands on the wall and leaned down until his lips brushed her ear.

“And how many have you killed so far, Buffy? Including that little old woman you risked your life for tonight. Ball park figure?”

“I-” She lifted her hands to push him away, but her deceitful fingers had ideas of their own and reveled in the feel of him, stroking unconsciously over the taut muscles hidden by his shirt.

“How many?” he murmured softly, finding the twisted scar on her neck where he’d bitten her during their first time together. He toyed with it, running his tongue over the shining white lines before drawing the skin between his teeth and biting down gently.

Buffy moaned, her head falling to the side to encourage his play. She vaguely remembered him asking her something and struggled to make sense of it. “Hmm? Oh!” she gasped. “None, but why should you take my word for it?”

Will raised his head, his expression deadly serious as he stared down at her. “Because I believe in you, Buffy.”

The rush of tears was instantaneous as she read the truth of his bald statement in his eyes.

“Maybe you believe in me.” Her chin quivered. “But what about your precious friends? And Joyce? Don’t try to tell me they haven’t been screaming for my dust since they found out.”

“Well, you know Xander has. Not gonna lie to you about that. He’s practically shitting a ring around himself. Joyce? She pretty much agrees with me. And Willow… Well, believe it or not, Willow has her own fangy friend to worry about.”

Buffy couldn’t hide her surprise at that news. “So, Willow has succumbed to the lure of the vamp side, huh? Will wonders never cease,” she marveled with more than a trace of her old sarcasm. “Joyce is cool with it, though?” The Watcher’s opinion mattered most to her, since she was the biggest influence in William’s life.

“Yup. Well, you’re still gonna get the ‘hurt him and I’ll stake you’ speech, of course, but the only one you need to worry about winning over is Xander.”

“Like I care what puffy-boy thinks!” she scoffed. “He needs to be afraid of me, because now I can kick him in the balls without my brains dribbling out my ears.”

William winced playfully. “Ow. You know, I’d feel sorry for him if I didn’t think he deserved it.” His hands were creeping stealthily up from her waist, tunneling under her t-shirt. “But, enough about my friends. Are we good? No more stupid doubts and running away because you think it’s ‘right’ for me? Coz I gotta tell ya, luv, it’s gettin’ redundant.”

“Didn’t stop you from running to her the second you hit town,” Buffy pouted, making one last half-hearted attempt to push his wandering hands away.

He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “I knew that was you!” he crowed. “Thought I felt you before I went inside, but figured I was imagining things.” His grin quickly changed to an indignant scowl. “And the only reason I went there was to look for you. Not to see her.”

“Well, you reek of her! All I can smell is that cheap Designer Imposter’s perfume she drowns herself in,” Buffy growled.

Will stepped away from her with a leer. “Can’t help it if I’m irresistible, can I?” He snatched up her bag and held out a hand expectantly. “Ready to go home, princess?”

Buffy looked down at the proffered hand and back up into hesitant blue eyes. She doubted that things back in Sunnyhell were as peachy as he made them seem- not with interfering friends like his- but the alternative was just too unbearable. She’d rather be with him and put up with the hassle than be without him and endure the misery that this past week had been.

Reaching out, she took his hand, twining her fingers with his. When he smiled and squeezed her hand gently, she could swear she felt the stillness of her heart thump with joy.

She wasn’t about to give in that easily, though.

“If you think I’m riding all the way back to Sunnyhell with you stinking like ‘ho de Faith’, you’re out of your mind,” she lectured sternly. “My room is paid up until tomorrow night and it has a nice, big shower.” She curled her tongue behind her teeth in a perfect imitation of his patented leer, her eyes trailing suggestively over him. “And you’re a very, very dirty boy.”

“Yeah?” he purred, curling an arm around her narrow shoulders and pulling her snug against his side. “Do I get a tongue bath after?”

“If you’re good.”

“Oh, baby, I can be very good…”

Their voices faded down the alley. Behind them, a curvy brunette detached herself from the shadows, shoulders drooping and full mouth in a permanent pout as she watched them walk away.

“I don’t wear Designer Imposter’s!” she huffed before storming away in the opposite direction.

The End