Chapter 7
Dawn idly flipped through the channels of the TV, not really seeing the images dancing across the screen. She was bored, her fear having subsided when she realized they wouldn’t hurt her. Unless her sister didn’t show, that is. But, Dawn wasn’t worried about that. Liz had saved her from a hell god, for Christ’s sake. Facing off against a bunch of demons for some stupid bunch of rich people wasn’t going to scare her. Even if Liz had given up slaying.
Turning off the TV, Dawn reached over to the night stand and picked up her book. She had settled into her luxurious prison relatively well, although she was getting cabin fever. Every night, she dined with her captor/host and begged him to let her go outside. But, apparently, he didn’t quite trust the sister of a Slayer. She was only allowed out of her room to have dinner with him.
It was during one of those dinners that Dawn had found out that her dance partner had been her kidnapper. She had been eating in silence, stubbornly refusing to be coaxed into conversation, when a soft knock had sounded at the door.
She had involuntarily gasped when she saw him. Robert had at least had the decency to look sheepish as she glared daggers at him. Lucas had actually chuckled at Dawn’s expression. She’d angrily rose from the table and followed her guard back to her room, not speaking to either man as she left.
Dawn had spent an hour berating herself for her taste in men when she had returned to her room.
Sighing again, Dawn opened her book and started to read. A smile tugged on her lips as she read the words. She remembered Spike telling her the same story when she was fourteen, in his attempt to scare her and keep her off the streets. It had worked for a time. Then Dawn had decided that she wasn’t afraid of the boogie man, and had started to sneak out. It didn’t matter to her that the stories had been told to her by a real life boogie man, and that her sister was the chosen one to slay said boogie men. Dawn just knew that she was too old to be afraid of things that went bump in the night. That’s why she always got into trouble.
But, that was before Spike left. And before all their friends had died. Dawn still didn’t know the whole story of Willow’s death, but Liz had been devastated enough for her to realize that her sister had to kill her. The girls had huddled together in Spike’s crypt, with and uneasy Clem looking on, and cried. When they had calmed, Liz had told Clem that the sister’s were leaving Sunnydale, and to tell Spike she would leave word with Willy where they were going. Then they had packed everything they could, tossed it onto Xander’s SUV, and left, stopping only to tell Willy that they were going to Angel, and to tell Spike when he returned.
Only, Spike hadn’t come back. And Dawn had felt like she’d lost another member of her family. They’d showed up at Angel’s, desperately in need of his help. But Angel was in no position to do so. His own world was turned upside down by the disappearance of his son, (Liz had wisely restrained from freaking about that) and the betrayal of Wesley.
He had taken Liz into the office to talk, and Dawn had been left to wander around the lobby, avoiding the pained eyes of Cordelia. Shouting had drawn both of their attention to the office door, just as Liz threw it open. Stalking over to Cordy, the Slayer left yet another message for the blonde vampire with her, telling her that the girls were staying in L.A. Then, she had turned, glared one last time at the seething Angel, and pulled Dawn out the door.
Dawn had never found out what they had fought about. And Liz had never talked to or of Angel since.
A knock on her door pulled Dawn out of her memories, and she sat up, tying her red, satin robe closed.
“Come in,” she snapped. Rolling her eyes when Lucas entered, looking primped and perfect as usual, Dawn flopped back on the bed. “What do YOU want?”
“I just wanted to let you know that your sister and the vampire arrived at the docks, and will be on the island in the morning.”
“Vampire?” Dawn looked up at him, her brows drawn together in confusion. Lucas flashed her a toothpaste smile.
“Yes. I believe you know him. William the Bloody.” Happiness surged through Dawn and she sat up again.
“SPIKE!” she cried, her smile huge. “Can I see them when they get here?”
“A meeting will be arranged. Goodnight, Miss Summers.”
“Whatever,” Dawn said, her mind racing. Spike and Liz? Any residual worry she’d felt disappeared at the thought of them together. She just KNEW that everything was going to be alright now.
Buffy leaned over the railing of the sleek, 60 foot yacht. Staring into the starry night, she allowed herself to forget for a moment that she was on a boat bound for an island that could lead to the end of her existence. The wind whipped tendrils of her hair around her face, and she breathed deep the salty sea air.
The minute they had stepped onto the boat, their bags had been taken from them. Then, a man about the size of a Sherman tank, with a personality to match, had gruffly told them to follow him. Buffy didn’t know a damn thing about boats, but she knew expensive when she saw it. It was standard white, with gleaming hardwood decks, and shiny gold railings. They were led around a small pool area that held it’s own bar and several lounge chairs fitted with royal blue cushions. Walking past the helm(?), they were led down a short walkway to a door. Once ushered inside, Sherman, as Spike had dubbed him, instructed them not to leave their cabin until they were underway.
Spike had flipped off the closed door, then went immediately to the huge, four poster bed and started rooting through their bags. Cursing loudly, he let her know that all their weapons were gone, including the wicked looking knife that Spike had hidden in the false bottom of his bag. Other than that, they had not been forced through any other type of security measures.
Buffy had been poking around the contents of the room, while Spike cussed out his frustration. Plush maroon carpeting ran the expanse of the floor. A ten drawer dresser of gleaming dark wood ran from the door to the wall. A large, round mirror rested on top of it. A small curved box was sitting next to a gold lamp that had a stained glass shade. Tucked under the corner of the box was a long, white envelope.
Plucking the envelope up, Buffy turned and leaned against the dresser.
“What’s that, luv?” Spike asked from his prone position on the bed. His pale skin and hair stood out in sharp contrast to the thick, satin, maroon colored comforter.
“Dunno,” she said, sliding her finger under the flap. Pulling out the paper inside, she began to read. “Slayer. I am delighted that you and your companion could join us in the Underground. Tomorrow, you will arrive on the island, and starting now, all your needs will be seen to. I’m sure, by now, you have realized, that any weapons you have brought have been confiscated. I apologize for the undue stress I’m sure this will cause. I am afraid, however, that no other weapons, other than those that we provide will be allowed. Can’t have the competition disappearing before the games begin, now can we?” Spike snorted at that. “Please, enjoy tonight, and rest well. Lucas. Also, in the box is a gift for your vampire friend. It’s and amulet that has been magically enhanced to protect him from the rays of the sun. Call it a token of good faith.” Buffy grimaced at the deliberate use of her sister slayer’s name. Spike was off the bed and picking up the box before she had uttered the last word. Their eyes locked before he opened the lid. Reaching in, he pulled the clear, crystal shard by the silver rope chain. It twirled slightly as he held it up, the light reflecting into a colorful prism. Taking it from him, Buffy opened the clasp and put it around his neck. It fell two inches below his collar bone, the simple design blending well with the silver chain he already wore.
“The sun,” he whispered, tracing a finger over the crystal.
“Yeah. Let’s just make sure we’re near a door the first time we try it out, okay?” A smile quirked his lips at that.
“Okay.”
After they had set sail, Buffy had gone up to the deck to get some fresh air while Spike took a shower.
Her mind wandered back to the day she’d spent in Spike’s arms. They’d woken up a short time later and made love. Had eaten, then made love. Took a shower. And made love. Buffy had almost forgotten about vampire stamina. She was sure that the only reason they’d taken any breaks at all was for her benefit. She may have Slayer strength and stamina, but she was still human.
He hadn’t mentioned her whispered declaration of love, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. She’d been afraid to say it again, and had been berating herself for it since they left the dojo. She wasn’t denying her feelings anymore, but she was afraid of his reaction. Sure, he’d spent all day taking her, but sex was the one thing they had always done right.
Turning her thoughts away from Spike, Buffy focused on Dawn. As soon as they hit dry land, she was going to demand to see her sister. She just wanted to make sure that she was really alright. A tiny smile tugged at her lips as she thought about all the apocalypses she had diverted, but the thought of failing her sister terrified her beyond belief.
Her smile widened as she felt Spike come up behind her. She turned into his arms and ran her hands up the soft material of his dark green, long sleeved t-shirt. His blue denim clad thighs brushed up against hers. He eased his hands under her blue sweater to caress the skin underneath.
“What’re you thinking about, luv?” he asked, placing a kiss against her temple. Her fingers played with the still damp ends of his ponytail.
“Tomorrow. The tournament. Dawn.” You, she added silently.
“Worried?”
“Yeah,” she answered, quietly, laying her cheek against his chest.
“Don’t be. You’ve fought many times, and won. Keep in that frame of mind and kick demon arse.” Buffy smiled, not raising her head.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“What?” he prompted, using a finger to tilt her head up.
“Who do I thank for convincing you that color in the wardrobe is a good thing?” Laughter danced in her eyes. He smirked down at her, giving her a playful growl, allowing her to change the subject.
“A little firecracker of a chit named Amanda. Bint threw out all but one pair of my black jeans. I threatened to drain her if she touched my duster, though. And I hid my boots. Then, she goes out shopping, with my money, might I add, and comes back with all these bloody bags full of Nancy boy clothes. I took one look at what she bought and left. Then went and replaced everything she’d thrown away. But, I had gotten the hint that maybe I’d been in black a little too long.” Buffy chuckled at his story, ignoring the small stab of jealousy in her heart. He was here now, that’s all that mattered.
“Well, I’m glad. You look positively delicious,” she nipped gently at the line of his jaw.
“Delicious, huh? Well, there’s a great, big bed in our room begging to be used as a buffet table. What ya say, pet? Wanna go nibble on something?” He gave her a lewd wink and a wicked smile.
“Mmmmm. Sound yummy,” she purred, replacing her teeth with her tongue. Spike’s arms tightened around her as she teased the hollow of his throat.
“Cor, luv. You keep that up and I’m going to take you right here on the bloody deck.” An electric shock shot through her already trembling body. Taking one last nip at his throat, Buffy moved out of his arms and started to walk away.
“Coming?” she asked, casting a smoldering look over her shoulder.
“Not yet. But soon.” Spike growled, then took chase when she dashed away.
“Wow.” Was Buffy could say as Spike stepped into the sun for the first time since he’d had the ring of Amara. He couldn’t really appreciate it then, seeing as how he’d had a one track mind that day. Find Slayer. Kill Slayer. It wasn’t until after the chip that he had realized were his single mindedness had come from.
Spike had his hands out in front of him, basking in the suns rays that played over his alabaster skin. He smiled up at her, and she was struck breathless by the sight he made. Spike was just as moved by the sight of her in light that wasn’t artificial.
“Beautiful,” he whispered as he watched how the sun brought out the reddish highlights of her hair, and gave her skin a warm glow.
“If you please.” Their eyes snapped to Sherman, looking ever businessy in his Armani suit. His grey hair was clipped short against his head, his faded blue eyes cold and hard. He was gesturing to the steel colored humvee behind them.
“Shall we, Pet?” Spike said, draping his duster over his arm and hefting their bags.
“I guess so.” She followed him to the vehicle and climbed inside. When they were settled, the driver took off at a breakneck speed down a winding dirt road. Buffy could only catch blurred images of the various trees and bushes that lined either side of the road. Every now and then, a bright splash of color would catch her eyes, only to be gone in the next second. Spike sat rigidly beside her, his blue eyes trained forward, watching the two men in the front seat.
“Cor, Slayer. Would you look at that.” Buffy turned towards the front, and felt her jaw drop. As they crested a hill, a large structure of glass and steel came into view beyond a high, electric fence. The sun glared almost painfully off the building as they slowed at the gate post. A large black man, dressed in camouflage, approached the window. After speaking briefly with the driver, he motioned behind him and the gate began to open.
The humvee sped through and the building became even more visible to them. It looked to be a complete reproduction of the Coliseum in Italy, except for the top being completely enclosed. Several guards posts were set up around the perimeter, and heavily armed men traveled the space between them.
The truck pulled up underneath an awning that led to two glass doors. Sherman exited and gestured for them to follow him. Once through the door, two other guards came up and pulled their bags from Spike, who found himself very thoroughly frisked.
“Hey! I usually like to get the name of the person that’s grabbing my balls, if you don’t mind,” he spat as he was roughly turned against the wall. When they were satisfied, they let him go, turning towards the Slayer. She merely arched a brow at them, but didn’t fight when they did the same to her. Spike fought to keep his hands at his sides, and not wrap them around the little pukes necks for handling her. Sherman had walked across the lobby while this was going on, to speak to the young blonde woman.
Spike and Buffy looked around the huge room, each perplexed at the lack of decoration. The walls were white, and the carpeting and industrial grey. The only piece of furniture in the room was the large metal desk sitting next to a wide grand staircase. Large, smoked glass windows lined the walls.
They stood quietly, waiting for Sherman to finish with the woman, the same woman who was currently sending appreciative glances at Spike. She quickly turned away when Buffy stepped in front of him and glared.
“Jealous, luv?” Spike asked, chuckling. She shot a glare at him as well before returning to her study of the place.
“No wonder they gave you that amulet. One second in here, and you’d be going home in a vacuum bag.” Buffy said, eyeing all the glass. Spike only nodded in agreement as they were rejoined by there guard.
“This way.” He said, gruffly, heading towards the stairs. Spike picked up their bags and his duster, then set off after him. Buffy caught a glimpse of a courtyard filled with trees and exercise equipment as she followed the two men up the stairs. When they reached the top, they turned left, and walked down a long corridor with doors lining either side. Stopping halfway down, Sherman stopped and took a card out of his pocket. Slipping it into the lock, he pushed open the door.
“Your room.” He said, holding the door open so they could move inside. Buffy and Spike then found themselves alone as he closed the door and left.
“I do so hate the chatty types.” Spike quipped as he tried the doorknob. Scowling, he turned towards Buffy, his expression telling her they were locked in. “Well, luv. I guess we better get settled. We’re stuck here for now.” Buffy looked around her, feeling a little awed by her surroundings. All the furniture was a deep mahogany, the plush carpeting a vivid blue. A bar ran along the wall next to the bay window. The bed was king sized and draped in a thick blue comforter with plump pillows along the top.
Spike headed over to the bar, and poked his head into the small refrigerator. “Want something? There’s water, soda, beer. Blood.” he finished, holding up a bag of the sticky, red substance.
“Soda, please.” Spike plucked out a can of Coke and handed it to her before putting the bag into the microwave. Buffy sat on a barstool, hooking her feet into the rungs. He pulled out the bag and drained it quickly. As he threw it into the trash, a knock sounded on the door. They exchanged a glance before Spike yelled. “Come in!”
“Ms. Summers. Mr. . .Spike. I trust everything is to your liking.” Lucas said as he stepped into the room. He approached the couple, his steps barely faltering when Spike vamped and grinned at him.
“What would be to my liking is not to have to be here at all. But since you’ve made that impossible, I suppose this will do.” Buffy told him, her voice cold.
“Where’s the Bit?” Spike asked without preamble. Lucas barely cast an eye in his direction before addressing Buffy.
“I am here to explain the rules of the tournament.”
“Hello? Rude much? Spike asked you a question. Answer, then get on with the rules.” Buffy spat, giving Lucas a look that would intimidate lesser men.
“Of course. Forgive me.” Lucas smiled, his grey eyes hard. “She is currently in her room.”
“Which is where?” Buffy interrupted.
“Now, you know I can’t tell you. She is safe.”
“Pardon me for not being one with the trusting right now, but I don’t believe you. I want to see her.” The slayer said, lifting her chin defiantly. Spike had let his features melt back into their human form once Buffy started to challenge the wanker.
“A meeting will be arranged. But not before we discuss the rules.” Lucas replied, sounding as if he were addressing a three year old. When all either did was arch and eyebrow, he continued. “Tomorrow, the Tournament begins. There are three rounds per day, over three days, and one on the final day for the total of ten rounds. The person, or demon that makes it all ten rounds is the winner of the tournament. The winner than receives twenty five percent of the pot.”
“That doesn’t sound like a lot, mate.” Spike interjected.
“No? I can assure you, it can be in the multiple millions.”
Buffy’s jaw dropped at that, and Spike looked reasonably impressed.
“But, if I win. I’m expected to keep coming back, right?”
“Yes.”
“Unless I die.” She finished, her voice was flat.
“That is correct.” Lucas confirmed, his smile never faltering. Something about his constant smile gave Buffy the wiggins. While Spike had and extremely irresistible urge to make Lucas his dinner.
*Hold off, mate. You’ll get your chance.* Spike thought to himself, keeping the bar between them.
“Now, if you don’t have any more questions, I must take my leave. I will have the young Miss Summers brought here later this evening.” Without waiting for a response, Lucas turned and left the room.
“Wanker.” Spike grumbled. Buffy grunted in agreement.
“At least we’ll see Dawn tonight.”
“Yeah.” Then, a predatory smile spread across his face, sending shivers across Buffy’s skin. “Got any ideas of how we can pass the time?”
“One or two.” It was a race to see who reached the bed first.