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Bored Series - Hell to Play -- by Ruby
Rating: R
Description: Spike wants to play. Spike doesn't play nice, sequel to Breaking the Cycle.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all. I own nothing. Story of my life.
Spike lay thinking as Willow slept beside him. He was way beyond feeling annoyed at the slayer's interference in his life. She and her merry band had caused more grief for his little redhead than he could stomach. Now, he wanted more than to just take Willow away from them. He wanted to hurt them more deeply than any of them had ever hurt before.
Willow moved closer to him, and he rubbed her back softly as the beginnings of a plan began to take shape in his mind. Hell, it would almost play itself out if he got the game started off on the right track. All the pain they'd caused Willow would be as a pinprick compared to what he was about to put them through. The fact that they all thought he was ashes would make their agony all the richer. They'd have no idea who was really to blame for all their misery. Spike smiled in the darkness and pulled his lover closer to him.
"And she just walked away from you?" Buffy asked.
"No, she ran," Angel replied sadly. "She's so angry."
Buffy sighed and stepped into his arms, "Maybe Giles is right. Maybe we need to give her some time."
"I'm not convinced that space is what she needs. She's already so distant," Angel said.
"I wish I knew what she does need. She's so cold," Buffy replied.
"We'll bring her around," Angel whispered. "We have to. She's too good to lose."
Willow awoke alone in the bed. She sat up and blinked in the inky darkness and wondered if she'd ever get used to the windowless room. She heard the door open, and a soft light from the corridor snaked into the room, outlining Spike's lean form.
"Where were you?" Willow asked as he crossed the room and sat down on the bed.
"I had some things to take care of before the sun came up," he told her.
Willow assumed he was referring to satisfying his bloodlust.
"I picked these up for you," he dropped a pair of jeans and a black silk shirt on the bed.
Willow stared at them, wondering what corpse they had recently attired.
Spike chuckled, "From the shop across from the campus."
"Oh," she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Willow picked up the clothes and got out of the bed, "I should get ready for school."
"No," Spike ordered. "I don't want you going out alone. That blonde bitch will grab the first opportunity that comes along to corner you."
"Spike, I can't avoid classes forever! After all--"
"Willow," he interrupted her.
"What?" exasperation edged her voice.
"It's Saturday, pet," he laughed.
She grabbed his arm and hauled him close to her, "Very funny! I ought to fuck you senseless!"
"Yeah, you ought to," he agreed.
Try as she might, Willow couldn't suppress the giggle that tumbled from her lips.
"Where did you find these?" Giles asked as Buffy handed him the torn sweater and skirt.
"In the cemetery. I left the house early this morning to look for Willow. They're hers," her voice quivered slightly.
The watcher's expression was grave, "No sign of Willow, though?"
"No," she shook her head slowly. "Whoever--or whatever--did that, must have dragged her off."
"Let's not jump to conclusions," he advised.
"Giles, she hasn't been home in two days! And apart from Angel's meeting with her on that dark street last night, no one's seen her or heard from her."
"Nevertheless, we should check this out thoroughly before making any assumptions," he told her.
"Alright," she conceded. "I'll get Xander and Oz. Angel can join us this evening. Maybe he knows someone who can help."
"I'll call the hospital and see if anyone matching her description has been admitted," Giles said.
Buffy nodded her understanding and left the library to round up the guys.
The End
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