Buyer Beware by Just_Sue

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Chapter 5

Willow rose quickly from the table where she’d busied herself with ordering new stock for the Magic Box as she awaited Tara’s return. The sound of a key turning in the lock to their cosy apartment had her across the room and ready to throw her arms around her lover’s neck, eager to plant a kiss to her cheek in welcome. She sighed happily as her embrace was enthusiastically returned. Pulling back she took one glance at Tara’s drawn face and frowned. “Bad day, baby?” At the nodded affirmation, Willow encouraged her soul mate to sink into their comfortable couch before scurrying away to make them both some herbal tea. Nothing more was said until identical sighs of pleasure escaped their lips after the first sips had been enjoyed.

“It was awful, Willow. So much suffering… and… and such hatred.” Tara stuttered a little as she sank back into the cushions, closing her eyes briefly and seeing again the events of the auction play out across the inside of her lids. With a brief shudder, she started to relate all that had happened to her partner.

The redheaded Wiccan’s eyes grew larger as she listened to Tara’s impressions about the auction and the dark auras of the chipped vampires being sold out into the world. She and Tara had discussed their misgivings about Buffy getting one of these creatures to help her; to live in her home. Willow wished, with everything short of magic, that she could find a way to breach the distance that Buffy had placed between them and be allowed to give her erstwhile best friend the support the Slayer had once accepted from her gladly. When Tara mentioned Spike’s name, an extremely unladylike squeak fell from her lips.

“Spike? Not Spike with the peroxide hair, black is the new black fetish and scary bumpies?” Willow almost squealed. The shock on her face had Tara quirking her lips in a lop-sided grin.

“Yes, Spike. But not so much with the black, or the hair… and certainly no bumpies. Buffy saved… er, bought him.” Tara’s grin widened at the other woman’s stunned reaction, watching amused as Willow’s mouth worked without words issuing forth. “From what Buffy told me he’s changed from when you knew him before.” She frowned as she recalled the vampire’s terror and his gratitude for a small kindness. “I don’t understand how they can get away with what they’ve done. It’s not right or just. There’s just something off about it all. I mean, I can sorta understand them wanting to use them for protection against demons but… as sex slaves? It’s not the type of thing you expect the government to be involved in.”

Still shocked by the news that Spike was even now at Revello Drive with Buffy, Willow picked up instantly on Tara’s distress and feeling of wrongness; she trusted her love’s instincts in all things and had learned to take them seriously. “You think something else is going on?”

Tara wrinkled her brows in thought. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I’ve got and it won’t go away. Do you think you’d be able to do some snooping?” She nodded towards the laptop on the table. “Get a better idea of exactly why the Initiative is using vampires for prostitution? Or anything else you can find out?”

Breaking into classified records would have caused most level-headed people to pause; Willow was not most people. The temptation to exercise her tech skills with a bit of underhand investigation was too much to pass up. There could be something big being hidden and she would love to be the one to find it – and pass it on to Buffy as proof that she was still there and trying to help. Reaching out to smooth a lock of loose hair from Tara’s face, Willow nodded. “Sure, baby. I’ll get delving in the morning. See how sneaky I can be and if there are any conspiracies lurking, I’ll find ‘em. Darn tootin’ I will.”

Content that she had done all she could for one night, Tara placed her empty mug on the coffee table and enjoyed some snuggling with her honey.

***

Wishing to herself that Giles would be without rest for at least the next week, Buffy failed to notice the mobile vampire until she reached the bottom of the stairs. The extremely mobile vampire who was still sporting a huge erection that swung just a little as Spike pivoted and paced. Whatever Buffy thought she might have said was left unuttered as Spike spun to face her and stabbed a finger towards her, his face contorting in anger about the blue ice of his eyes. ‘Okay. So Spike is still in there somewhere, then.’

“Slayer,” Spike ground out. “I know you own my arse. I know I am as the dirt beneath your feet. And I know that I’m bloody well gonna pay for this. But if this is the way it’s gonna play then you might as well dust me now and save us both the effort.” He drew in an unneeded breath before ploughing on. “’Cos if you’re gonna give me orders where I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, well all I know is that I’m damned. So here I am right now not knowing if I’ve done what you wanted or not. Here I am, Slayer. Yours and damned.”

And as sudden as its arrival, the passion died in Spike. He dropped his arm and stood looking into the Slayer’s stunned face and waited for whatever was to come, fear rushing back in to fill the gap left by the desertion of more spirited emotions.

‘What the hell is going on here? I told him to lose the…the thing. And now he’s shouting at me and the thing’s still there and why is it so difficult to not look at it? Shit, I’ve got to talk to him about it again!’

Buffy watched as the animation left the vampire and he seemed to fold in on himself, losing something that belonged with him. “What on earth are you on about, Spike? You know what I asked you to do. This is so not a conversation that I thought I’d ever be having. I know you’re not exactly over the moon to see me again and that…that thing, well alright, it’s making me feel wiggy!” Buffy’s burning face stared defiantly at the startled vampire.

The vampire who narrowed his eyes in thought, tilted his head and almost couldn’t stop the smirk he hadn’t used in so long - so long that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like on his face - from making an appearance. “Slayer, have you read anything they’ve given you? You know, about how to look after your pet vamp?”

Buffy knew this feeling. It was another of those that she had never wanted to feel again. All those times she hadn’t done her studying the night before a big test and the teacher had called her on it when the results came through. That’s how she felt now; like she’d failed the test. Buffy wished she had looked at the large sheaf of documents that had been sent to her instead of relying on her own vampire knowledge. She hadn’t even moved them from the coffee table where she’d tossed them straightaway on arrival before the auction.

“Umm, I was busy.” Buffy thought that if her face burned anymore she would ignite. “And I wanted to do things my way. And now I don’t know what to do because I don’t know what I’ve done wrong!” She doubted the rest of this conversation was going to improve her urgent yearning to sink gently into the ground below her.

Spike felt himself to be on dangerous ground. He’d already earned enough punishment to keep the Slayer busy for the next few days, if she didn’t want to do anything else with her time that is. And either she was telling him the truth, which would be bloody amazing but a lot like the younger girl he remembered, or this was a web reminiscent of Angelus. Her flushed face, hitched heart rate and the deer caught in the headlights look on her face persuaded him that she genuinely meant what she’d said.

And now he was still gonna be fucked. Because now he had to tell her the ins and the outs of his current state of arousal, and he had a strong intuition that she was not going to be pleased to gain knowledge about aspects of his previous career. Not like he wanted to be the one to give her the lessons in how to beat your vamp to a pulp, either.

“Right.” Spike replied as he looked into her eyes, reading nothing that indicated anything but a desire to get this over with. He averted his gaze down and to the side before educating the girl. “Looks like it’s up to me then to give you a few lessons. Lesson the first.” He paused, wondering if he was doing the right thing here. Sighing in resignation, he continued. “Thing is, they didn’t know what might fetch interest on my account. Had a few chops and changes in use over the years. So they covered all their bases and slapped a cock ring on me.” Spike swore to himself that if she laughed he would do as much as he could to make her life miserable.

“I’ve died and gone to hell,” Buffy muttered to herself, forgetting for a moment about vampire hearing.

“Yeah, well it looks as though I’m still right there with you, Slayer. And because you didn’t see fit to do the homework, I get to be the one to tell you this little morsel. Believe me when I say I wish you had read the bloody thing!” Spike kept resolutely facing away. “I wish you knew what it was like to be where I am right now. To be at your absolute mercy and telling you about why my perky privates are upsetting you, Slayer. But I gotta tell you that they’re sodding upsetting me a whole lot more. If nothing else the constant pain factor sort of outweighs the total humiliation.”

“So why don’t you take it off?”

This discussion was down for erasure from her memory, even if she had to ask Tara to do a spell. But Spike was her responsibility and his distress was, if anything, greater than hers. She did not want to even try to think about how she would feel if positions were reversed. That way lay horror, nightmares and cold sweats.

“Because only the master can remove it. If I touch it, that’s a punishment. Twenty lashes.” Spike felt so tired. He was hungry again and he didn’t know if his head or his dick hurt the most. If he’d had a soul it might have deserted him then in his sincere wish for rest; permanent rest. ‘Tired of playing these games.’

The thought of having to take something off Spike’s cock, to treat his manhood so casually, filled Buffy with disgust. The image Spike had planted in her mind about being in his shoes was not far enough away for her not to feel his anguished discomfort, both physically and emotionally.

“Okay, Spike.” Buffy steeled herself and tried to keep her voice steady. “You’re right. This is totally my fault, this mess. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t know. And, this may be hard for you to believe, I actually want us to be a team. I’m not looking for a slave, Spike. Not in any way they mean. I want a vampire who’s gonna be there in the fight alongside me. And treating you like a heartless bitch is not likely to open up a bag of happy possibilities of that ever happening.”

Buffy felt encouraged as the life seemed to return to Spike’s body and he turned his head in her direction. “We haven’t had time to talk yet, to find some common ground that works for both of us. I was thinking we’d do that tomorrow when we’d both had a chance to rest. But I just want to make it perfectly clear that there is no way I am going to take that thing off.” The flinch was unmistakeable this time. “Because you’re gonna do it yourself. I want us to be able to work together, and some things should remain in your… well, just yours.”

Spike could barely believe what he was hearing. But he was going to seize it before it was snatched away. “Can I use the bathroom?”

Buffy waved him towards the bathroom door and he was in there like a flash. It took several attempts with trembling fingers before Spike could detach the despised cock ring; the lingering scent of the Slayer in the confined space making everything harder. His swollen flesh screamed for release. He’d barely unclasped the cock ring when he came violently, ejaculate hitting the clean white tiles of the wall, before sinking to his knees with a groan.

Buffy’s voice penetrated the door. “Have a shower if you like. I’m gonna heat up some blood so come upstairs when you’re ready.” Spike could hear her footsteps on the stairs and the click as the basement door shut behind her.

Working quickly, Spike threw the cock ring into the waste bin and cleaned his mess from the tiles with toilet tissue before using a cleaning cloth stowed neatly under the sink to wipe the wall down more thoroughly. Stripping out of his pants and top took moments and then he was sighing in satisfaction as hot jets of water warmed his tired body. Spike was almost shaking in reaction from the scene that had just played out beyond the bathroom door. The Slayer had managed in the space of hours to turn his narrow world upside down. Later he’d think about it, but right now Spike felt emotionally wrung out and all he wanted was to enjoy the warmth and comfort being given by the clean water before taking the Slayer up on her offer of warmed blood.

Picking up the nearest shower gel Spike lathered his body from head to toe, enjoying the somewhat musky fragrance it released. Rinsing off, he turned off the shower and checked that everything was left clean before wrapping a soft thick towel around his shoulders, taking care not to reopen any of the numerous wounds on his still healing back. Spike gingerly dried himself off before slipping the drab grey clothing back on. The almost silent extractor started to make inroads into the steam that filled the small room, gradually removing its warm dampness. Spike took the soggy towel with him when he exited the bathroom and hung it tidily over the iron headboard of the bed to dry.

Determinedly shoving all thoughts of awkwardness at placing himself once again in the Slayer’s presence from his dazed mind, Spike made his way quietly up from the basement and joined her in the kitchen. A mug throwing out the sweet aroma of warmed blood was standing on the kitchen island. Spike was tempted to grab it but thought better of it. The Slayer was pouring something into two mugs over by the cooker.

Without looking up, Buffy said, “Better drink it before it gets cold.” Spike needed no further encouragement and emptied the contents in two long swallows. “More?”

“Please.” The vampire realised that he seldom used that word in gratitude anymore; he’d had so little to be grateful for. He watched as the Slayer placed two mugs on the table, pushing one towards him before refilling the empty mug from a container taken from the fridge and popping it into the microwave. Spike glanced at the other mug and found himself staring at hot chocolate with little marshmallows floating cheerfully on top. He’d been in this same kitchen, five or so years ago, when he’d last tasted hot chocolate. His fond memory of Joyce triggered the realisation that he hadn’t seen her yet. Closely followed by the fact that he couldn’t smell her either. Wisely he kept quiet, years of beatings giving him a restraint that may have surprised some who had known him in his other life. The recent outburst had been a rare return of his demon to the fore, now gone to ground leaving Spike to deal with the fallout.

Spike looked up to find the Slayer solemnly studying him. The ping from the microwave had her turning to remove the warmed mug and pass it to him. “Thanks, Slayer.”

It felt strange, talking so much. But better than not, much better. Spike drained the blood, licking his lips in satisfaction before rinsing out the mug and stacking it on the drainer behind the Slayer. Returning to stand on the opposite side of the island from her, Spike reached for the mug of chocolate and took an appreciative sip. He watched the Slayer surreptitiously, waiting for her to say or do something. Her eyes were still on him but she looked to be deep in thought. Spike had no wish to disturb her.

Buffy was fighting a strong urge to run away from this situation of her own making. Given hindsight she would never have made the trip to LA and wouldn’t now be faced with dealing with Spike. But running away was a luxury she had lost long ago; there were none left to clear up her messes but herself now. If she were to be totally honest, her biggest problem was the overload of emotions that the vampire inspired. Buffy hadn’t dealt with so many since Dawn’s death and had been unprepared to discover that her old enemy made her feel so much. She couldn’t wait to escape to the sanctuary of her room and sort through her confused feelings.

Sighing, Buffy finished her hot chocolate and rinsed off the mug before facing the unwitting author of her confusion. Spike looked so lost, and she knew she was adding to his uncertainty. Taking a steadying breath, Buffy willed herself to do her best, for both their sakes.

“I don’t know about you but I could sleep for a week,” earned Buffy a small quirking of Spike’s lips; not quite a smile. “But you were right, about needing to know what to expect from me and what I expect from you. So, here’s the deal.” She focussed on his eyes, wondering if he knew how much of himself he showed through those windows to the soul, the soul he didn’t have. “I want you to be there beside me when I go out on patrol. I expect you to join in against demons if you’re needed. I expect you to watch my back.”

Spike blinked but didn’t interrupt as the Slayer continued; “In a couple of days I’ll want you to join in training with me. Get as much practice in as we can before going out there together. I need to be able to trust you, Spike.”

“In exchange, I will feed and clothe you – do my best to make sure you’re comfortable. I want you to tell me if there’s anything you need, anything I’m forgetting. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to worry about anyone but myself, so I’m probably a bit out of practice.” Buffy smiled depreciatingly.

“I’m not gonna pry into what’s happened to you since we last fought. If you want to tell me fine, otherwise it’s your business and not mine. Same goes for me; I want you to ask me anything you like, but I can’t promise I’ll answer everything. Fair enough?” Spike nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving hers.

“One other thing.” Buffy paused, considering her choice of words. “Spike, I don’t want to hurt you, ever. In the past there’s nothing I would have enjoyed more than whipping your ass in a fight, and making you fit into an ashtray. But I don’t get my kicks from beating on someone who can’t fight back. Get all the violence I need out on patrol.”

The tired vampire wanted to believe everything the Slayer was telling him, he really did. But he’d learnt the hard way that when something appeared to be too good to be true, it was usually because it was. Spike had listened in gathering amazement to the Slayer, and he so wanted what she seemed to be offering. But he didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them dashed. Better that he wait and see if her words carried any weight before he became her willing slave. And right now he felt that if the Slayer kept her promise, that’s what he would be.

Buffy had hoped for some sort of reaction from Spike, but when none was forthcoming she decided it was time for them both to rest. Leading the way back to the basement door, Buffy didn’t need to look to know that the vampire was obediently following her. Once in the basement she frowned at the bed; it looked kind of lonely without a table and bedside lamp.

“Help yourself to blood if you need any. I don’t normally get up ‘til sometime in the afternoon, so if you wake before then you can watch the TV if you’re bored. Just keep the sound down.” Buffy glanced over at the vampire. He looked about done in. She knew how he felt. “Goodnight, Spike. Sleep well.”

She was halfway up the stairs before he had the courage to ask. “The bed?”

Ridiculously, Buffy felt tears start to form. ‘I really don’t want to know what you’ve been through that you have to ask me that.’

“All yours, Spike.” Buffy just caught his whispered ‘thanks’ before she escaped from the basement and took her weary body and mind to bed.

***

Spike stood there for long moments, tears making their way haphazardly from under his tightly shut eyelids. ‘Stop it, you stupid nancy. It’s only a sodding bed. Not the fucking Crown Jewels.’ But it appeared that once started they had no intention of stopping.

Hesitantly, half-way expecting the Slayer to dash back in and change her mind, he approached the object of his desire. Something else he had missed sorely, sleeping in comfort between clean sheets with a mattress beneath him, instead of naked on a mat. Spike was almost sobbing when he pulled back the quilt and slid between the co-ordinated sheets - sheets that still held that stiffness that comes with being new.

As his head dropped onto the soft pillows Spike picked up the scent of the Slayer. These had been hers then, once. For some reason he found the smell comforting, burrowing his face into them he drifted into a deep sleep, thoughts of the Slayer gradually stilling in his befuddled head.

***

Unbeknownst to Buffy, the vampire and the Slayer made quite a pair. She swiped tears away as she changed into a pair of black satin pyjamas before leaping into her welcoming bed and letting her head fall back into the pillows. Reaching over to the bedside table, Buffy grabbed a handful of tissues and began to noisily blow her now runny nose. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all the way he’d got her all upset like this. She’d fought so hard to keep strong emotions about everything except her mission at arms length.

Would she have been happy, all those years ago, if she’d known what Spike’s fate would be? Would she have taken pleasure in knowing that he was being humiliated, abused and broken? With shame, Buffy had to face it; at that time in her life she’d had no comprehension of what it felt like to be broken. That had come later. She’d only been broken emotionally, and now she was housing her erstwhile enemy, a creature that had been tormented both physically and psychologically.

Buffy was not about to try and fool herself that demons did not feel emotions. Even if Spike’s amazing eyes didn’t show everything he felt, the vampire expressed himself with the subtle movements of his body as well. The way he had postured tonight when she’d placed him in that humiliating position, when she’d unknowingly driven him into a corner from which he’d had no choice but to fight to get out of. His body and words tried to say one thing, but his eyes held it all. There had been no doubt that Spike was angry; it showed. But there was also such fear and hopelessness; Buffy truly believed that when he’d said he was damned he meant it literally. And she admired him for it. For showing that a little of the old Spike still existed in his world without hope; constantly expecting to be rewarded with pain for behaving outside set parameters.

Buffy shuddered to think what she might have felt forced into doing if she had carried out the punishments that Spike had obviously been expecting from her. ‘How desperate he must have been to put himself in that position. There is no way I thought this out properly. Old Spike I could have staked with pleasure. He only had to open his stupid mouth, or show his peroxide head, or come swaggering towards me full of attitude and smirking in that way of his and...’

The woman in her had to admit that he really had been hot. Where he’d caused anger and hatred at the time, from this distance Buffy could allow herself to look at her memories of their encounters with less jaundice. She looked at the few times they had been in each other’s company and not actively trying to kill each other.

They’d had the truce over the Acathla not-an-apocalypse. Spike had been surprising when he’d sought her out and offered his aid against Angelus. Still in love with Drusilla, even though she was currently consorting with her Daddy. But, apart from his realisation that getting rid of the world might not be the brightest idea on the ladder of survival, Spike’s prime motivator had been taking his paramour away from danger and her sire. He had fulfilled his agreement with her to the letter. Buffy need never have seen him again. It was all Drusilla’s fault. If she hadn’t dumped him then the Big Bad would never have come back to town, and left them all in tatters.

‘That so was not funny.’

Truth hurts.

A lot of truths came out that night. Buffy thought the only person who’d come out of it smiling was Spike; oh, and possibly her mom. Mom had been touched to have spent some quality time with her favourite vampire. ‘That’s right. Mom had really liked him. And she never liked Angel. Funny that Spike got on so well with her. You’d think he’d bear a grudge, especially after that fantastic swipe with an axe at their first meeting. But they actually liked each other. Wonder if he thought of mom too, with the chocolate and all? That would be…nice. That I wasn’t the only one left to remember her at odd moments, to think of her sometimes.’

Buffy wriggled into a more comfortable position before continuing her musing. The ripples from Willow and Xander’s kissing mishap had destroyed relationships and friendships alike. Which, of course, had only happened because of Spike and his obsession to get back his ho of a sire.

It was the pinpoint accuracy of the blond vampire’s definition of love that had driven the final, long nail in the coffin of Buffy’s relationship with the souled vampire. ‘When you loved someone it was as natural as breathing to want to be the one to make them happy. To be able to get your happiness by giving your loved one theirs. Wasn’t that the way love was supposed to be? If Angel could never experience true happiness because of his curse, then I could never make him truly happy. It was never gonna work and, despite everything, I think I might have had a worse life than the one I’ve got. Trust Spike to go straight for the emotional jugular.’

Huffing to herself, Buffy swung out of bed. Wriggling feet into slippers and throwing on a long, black satin robe, she left her room and made her way downstairs and into the kitchen for some brain food. Sleep that she’d craved so urgently had taken a leave of absence, and now she felt twitchy. A quick patrol was what she’d normally do when she felt like this, or a good session in the basement. But that was out of the question now; she had a vampire to consider.

Pulling a diet yoghurt from the fridge, Buffy was just taking a spoon from the drawer when the silence was abruptly disturbed by a pained scream. The forgotten yoghurt fell to the floor as Buffy flew down to the basement.

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