Buyer Beware by Just_Sue

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Chapter 4

Tara drove with her attention divided. Part was focussed on the road ahead, thankful for the light traffic. The other part was busy pondering about vampires, specifically chipped vampires. Like the one huddled in the back of her car, his aura crying out for respite from the hell of his existence.

Up to now she had always tried to ignore their presence in Sunnydale; it wasn’t as if there were that many of them. The new Mayor had one, and a team of six was assigned to the local police. One had been with the local fire fighters until he … combusted. She was pretty sure there were more around but had made no effort to look for them. Those that she did see on occasion - the ones working at night on police patrols - she’d tried to ignore, averting her eyes away as if looking at something shameful.

But now she was interested.

Going to that place today had been more of a drain on her inner peace than she liked to admit - even to herself. Tara was sure that, besides being morally wrong, there was something else to be learned with a little furtive investigating of the technological variety. Just as well she knew someone who could, if only she would.

Willow.

Willow had been trying to mend her bridges with Buffy for some time now. Perhaps if they could find something for Buffy to get her teeth into about the Initiative it would bring the two former friends that little bit closer together. Tara just had this gut instinct that something was off, even more off than treating other beings as slaves in all but name. And having met Spike, she felt compelled to do as much for the vampire as she could to make his lot a better one.

***

His eyes might be shut but Spike could feel the Slayer watching him. The vampire was not surprised to be under her scrutiny, nor would he be surprised if just about now she was wondering if she was mad to have bought him. Perhaps that depended on what she intended to use him for.

Spike’s body was giving him unmistakeable signals that it would not be adverse if she wanted him for a fuck toy. Doug had intimated that she was looking for a bodyguard but that couldn’t be right. Why would the Slayer want, or need, a bodyguard? The stupid git must have got his wires crossed. That made as little sense as her wanting to have sex with a vampire. ‘Oh, nearly forgot there. She’s had one before.’ The thought that the Slayer might want him as a replacement for Angel didn’t fill him with enthusiasm. Her scent surrounding him did.

If it was sex she was after, Spike was not convinced he would be able to satisfy her. It had been so long since he’d had a woman – Dru – and he didn’t know if the old moves were there. It would truly be the ultimate irony of his unlife if he, a trained whore, were to be staked for being unable to perform his duties.

Shifting slightly to ease the increasing discomfort in his crotch, Spike lost himself to the motion of the car, gaining as much rest as he could before they reached Sunnyhell.

***

She was confused.

She was surprised.

She was confused and surprised.

Buffy had settled into the rear seat and stared at the vampire not so far away. This was not the Big Bad she had known and fought. This was a shadow, and not a very inspiring shadow at that. Where she’d anticipated a heap of verbal thrown her way, there was fear. Where she’d imagined to be subjected to attitude and arrogance, there was meekness and silence. ‘Where was Spike and who was this in his body?’

It was confusing.

What was worse, she felt a duty to protect him. When Doug had raised his arm to deliver a blow she’d been close to losing her cool; something she just didn’t do anymore, not since… Because that meant she felt, and feeling only led to hurt. So why was she wanting to protect a vampire from a blow that couldn’t possibly damage a strong supernatural being such as he? It’s not as if he were a man or anything. And he wasn’t a pet either. Buffy couldn’t have verbalised exactly what he was to her. Her mind shied away from labelling him as a possession. That was just wrong.

And it was surprising.

One thing was certain though. She really hadn’t thought this out enough before leaping in. But she couldn’t regret taking Spike out of that place and away from whatever had caused this dramatic change in him. His submissive behaviour was so radically different from the snarky predator of her memory. Shuddering, her mind shied away from thinking of the type of treatment he may have received to change him so. And what would she need to do to get the fighter in him back again, to be the partner she needed. Perhaps the cure to her little problem would prove to be worse than the symptoms. Still, she couldn’t deny being glad Spike was with her rather than the other bidder. Who knows what he might have been looking forward to now if her opponent had won?

Chewing on her lower lip, Buffy continued to ruminate as home drew nearer.

***

Tara spoke as the car pulled into Revello Drive, her soft voice insistent. “The cleansing spell, Buffy. I think we should all be involved.”

Buffy agreed. “Can’t hurt and I think we all need it.”

The car pulled up on the drive and Buffy nudged the vampire, unsure if he’d been sleeping or not, the lack of breathing not giving a clue either way. “Can you pop the trunk, Tara? I’ll grab the other stuff before we go in.”

So saying, Buffy scooped up the items on the back seat and exited the car. Spike followed her, taking the chest from the trunk without being told. Juggling the stuff in her arms, Buffy found her door key and let them all in. “Come in, Spike.” Invitations to all vampires, including Angel, had long been revoked.

Once the door had been closed behind them, Buffy and Tara went into the kitchen, leaving Spike standing in the hallway unsure what he should do with the chest he still held. He knew the contents intimately and hoped the Slayer would not be using any of them. But that would be too much to hope for.

Tara brushed past him, throwing a shy smile towards him on her way into the living room. There, she set about her preparations for the cleansing spell.

Spike jumped when the Slayer spoke from behind him. “Just put that down, Spike. We’ll sort it out later. Come with me.”

He did as she asked and followed her into the living room, standing beside her within the circle that Tara had fashioned. Tara motioned for them to sit and they formed a triangle within the circle. Candles were lit and herbs burnt. When Tara told them to join hands they did, and Spike felt a tingle as two warm hands clasped his cold ones. The gentleness of their touch, the fact that they were women, sent a pleasurable tremor through him. He felt grateful to feel something so small and unexpected.

When he saw that the two women had closed their eyes, Spike followed suit. As Tara’s gentle chanting flowed around them, all three felt a lessening of the burden placed upon them during the day’s events. Spike savoured feeling more like himself and less like a chattel. Tara let go of the darkness that had haunted her since her arrival at the complex outside LA. Buffy threw away the doubt that had dogged her and embraced the challenge that might keep her anchored to the world for a little longer. With a murmur, Tara ended the spell.

Surprising everyone including himself, Spike was the first to speak, “Thanks, Glinda.”

Tara ducked her head and quirked a lop-sided grin at the vampire. “You’re welcome, Spike.”
Buffy stood and helped Tara gather her belongings together. Spike rose, pulling his blanket around him and watched as the two girls worked in familiar harmony together. In minutes, Buffy was wishing Tara goodnight and thanking her for her help. The two women shared a hug and then Buffy was locking the front door and turning to regard the silent vampire.

It was just the two of them now. Spike was terrified.

***

Buffy might wish it wasn’t so but the bulge of Spike’s constant erection was starting to wig her out. She tried to ignore it as she hefted up the chest and moved towards the basement door.

“This way, Spike.”

The vampire followed the Slayer, cursing himself for speaking without permission. He knew intimately the contents of the chest in the Slayer’s arms and the uses to which the various items could be put. Spike usually made it a bit longer before getting himself into trouble with his new master, but now he’d damned himself with his unexpected desire to let the kind Wiccan know that he was grateful for easing his plight even a little. Trying to still his mounting fear, Spike trod slowly as he descended to the basement in the Slayer’s footsteps.

Buffy placed the chest against a wall and continued into the centre of the room. When Buffy stopped and turned to face the vampire she caught a quick glimpse of Spike’s eyes before he dropped them to the floor. The fear and resignation showing from the blue depths shocked Buffy. The passage of time had changed Spike into someone unfamiliar. He didn’t even look like her old adversary, and it wasn’t just because of the drab clothing and his almost shorn head.

The being before her was defeated and that was something she’d never managed to do to him. Nor had she wanted to in any way that didn’t end with him as dust. But right now, right now Buffy was starting to feel a mixture of pity and anger. And she didn’t want to pity him because he’d never been a creature that would welcome such an emotion. She didn’t want him to be that creature now, not when she needed him. She also felt anger. Because today’s events had been anything but pleasant, endured only for the promise of a solution to her growing ennui.

It was only now that Buffy understood how very much her perception of owning a vamp, and the reality of actually having one standing in her basement, differed. Her long experience with vampires had led her to expect a being with a lot more fire and ironically, more…life in them. Maybe if she’d listened to Giles and selected a specimen from a recent batch she’d have one with a bit of spirit left in it. But they hadn’t been suitable; Buffy trusted Tara’s opinion in this area. If she remembered correctly, Spike had shown more animation than any of the others when she’d seen him on the monitors. He’d even smiled at Tara. So what was causing Spike to look at her as if he expected her to… ‘No. He can’t think I’m gonna do anything bad to him. I’ve never been so nice to a vampire in my life. Well, except Angel.’

Opening her mouth, intending to ask Spike what he was expecting to happen next, Buffy found herself interrupted by the ringing of the phone upstairs. “Now what!” she exclaimed irritably, missing the flinch Spike couldn’t prevent his body from executing. Already halfway up the stairs, Buffy halted and turned to stare down at Spike’s back. He hadn’t moved.

“Spike, while I’m gone I’d appreciate it if you’d do something with that problem in your pants.” Buffy could feel herself flush with embarrassment for having to draw attention to it. The way it kept attracting her interest was beyond gross and she just didn’t need to deal with any more feelings today. She was sure she’d used up her quota for the month already. Pivoting she dashed up into the kitchen and grabbed the handset. And found a very annoyed Giles on the other end of the line.

It was about ten minutes later, after a storm of rants and heated explanations that Buffy huffed and put the handset back from where she wished she’d never taken it. They’d agreed to talk later when they’d both calmed down, after Buffy had settled her vamp for the night and got some rest herself.

Her distraction allowed Buffy to re-enter the basement and into a situation so far from the realms of her experience that it might as well have belonged in another universe, on a world far, far away.

***

Since entering the basement, Spike had allowed his eyes to quickly case the room. If he was interested enough Spike could focus his concentration extremely well. If he was interested. And he was definitely interested in his environment, in the room under the house. The space contained a mixed bag of objects.

A punching bag was secured to the ceiling, towards which Buffy was now moving. Beyond her he could see a bed dressed with handsome blue linen. Weights and other gym paraphernalia were neatly stowed about the walls. A door in the corner was open showing what looked to be a neat bathroom. The other door had a neat sign attached to it, ‘Laundry’, so that took the guessing away. It was all very…tidy.

The only thing Spike saw that he’d expected to see were the chains attached to the wall near the bed. He couldn’t see the cage that had been his place of residence on each of his other chapters in servitude. But then he’d never been taken to a normal house before, always being bound to large establishments with more than enough rooms to house a cage.

Spike could appreciate immediately the Slayer’s lack of options, what with the amount of available space. Made sense that he would probably be chained on the floor beside the bed. He wondered if she would truss him up like a Christmas dinner as had been his normal experience in the past few years. His eyes returned to the back of the Slayer’s head just as she abruptly stopped and faced him. For an instant he felt a pull towards twin pools of green, sunlight dancing and plunging down into hidden depths, leaving gold in remembrance of its passing. With a start Spike broke the spell and dipped his head to study the exercise mat under his feet.

When she left because of the shrill from above, Spike was grateful to be spared a few moments to bring himself under control. The Slayer hadn’t done anything yet and he was acting like a whipped pup. At this rate he’d piss her off and she’d be offing him. Which, actually, didn’t bother him that much. Not anymore. Spike had no desire to live out the balance of his existence at the whim and whimsy of more masters than he wanted to contemplate. He had been almost relieved when they’d told him that this would be his last chance. That if he cocked up again his new master would be entitled to dust him without fear of a fine ten times his sale price. No more chances of him being returned, as the buyer’s contract stated a chipped vampire had to be returned to the government to be re-trained or re-sold, or both.

It was not the fear of being dusted that disturbed him now, though. It was the fear of being beaten and tortured by someone with the strength of the Slayer, the strength of more than a vampire.

Spike could still feel several of his injuries mending since the last time, and that had been over a month ago. It had taken three weeks before he’d been pronounced healed enough to be taken for storage in the cold hangar for the auctions. It was the reason his cage was at the back, seeing as it was the first one in there. If Angel had managed to do that to him over the course of one week, what could his new master do to him with all the time in the world?

“Spike, while I’m gone I’d appreciate it if you’d do something with that problem in your pants.”

Spike whipped his head around but was too late to see the Slayer before she disappeared.

“Did she just say what I thought she said? She wants me to take care of…” Spike’s almost overloaded emotions started tearing into each other. He was fed up with feeling like this, so bloody beneath everything and everyone. Spike didn’t even feel the urge to argue anymore when he was told he was a monster, not as lash after lash was applied to his weeping and torn back.

The signals the bloody Slayer was sending out were making a mockery of all his former training. Until today he’d known exactly what to expect from his masters and, more importantly, he knew exactly what was expected of him. They told him in no uncertain terms and that was that. He admitted that his sodding training had taken a walk the moment he’d sensed her, but she wasn’t helping any. It was confusing.

Then she’d been all…well, if it hadn’t been the Slayer he might have thought it was kindness she was showing to him. But now it all became clear. Lull the stupid vampire into almost daring to hope that this sort of treatment would continue. Then humiliate him and try to taunt him into doing something she knew fucking well that he wasn’t allowed to do. ‘Did the bint think that it was her gorgeous green eyes that were responsible for the disturbance in the hang of me pants?’ Spike begrudgingly admitted that it hadn’t helped being in such close proximity to a woman again after so long, but that didn’t warrant her trying to get him to earn a punishment of at least twenty lashes.

Within moments of the Slayer leaving him Spike had well and truly wound himself into a state of despair and anger. His anger was marginally greater than his despair. But only just. If it had been anyone other than the Slayer he’d not be in this sodding situation. Another master would have treated him like a slave and Spike would’ve known how to act. But she’d seen fit to taunt him, and about that! It might have been a long time since Spike had been able to say he’d possessed dignity, but he’d be damned if she was going to take his balls - his pretty painful balls.

If Buffy had been able to see the agitated pacing, the wild actions of his arms and heard the mutterings of the distressed vampire, she would have been, well… not one whit better prepared.

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