Chapter Five

SO FAR IN [INSERT TITLE HERE]: A soul-sucking demon comes to Sunnydale, and the only way to stop it is for Spike and Buffy to get married. They kill the demon and then go off on their honeymoon to New York City. After lots of wild monkey sex, they decide to take a stroll in Central Park, where they run into the one person who could destroy their new relationship.

"Something... is... off." Drusilla decided this as she took in the appearance of the two blondes who stood before her. Her eyes narrowed as she saw the distinct scar on the Slayer's throat. "You've been a bad boy, my Spike. Someone must teach you a lesson." She lunged at her former lover screaming in rage, her hands curled into claws that were tipped by deadly-sharp fingernails.

"Hey, fangbreath! Get away from my husband!" Buffy yelled at the wild vampiress. Dru's head whipped around and she attacked the blond Slayer. Buffy backhanded the brunette and sent her flying back a few feet.

"You took my Spike from me! You filthy Slayer! I shall have my second!" she screeched. She tackled the blonde, pinning her to the ground. Her human mask fell away and she prepared to bite down in the tender flesh directly over the scar that Spike had left. Buffy managed to buck the vampiress off her, and quickly rolled to her feet.

"Not so fast. I'm not an easy kill." Buffy lashed out with a flip kick to the side of Drusilla's head, stunning her for a moment. The vampiress shook her head and attacked Spike again, and he fought her off easily, throwing her from him. "Spike! Stake!" Buffy tossed the wooden object to him, but he hesitated. He kept the stake hovering over Drusilla's heart, but then shook his head.

"Get out of here, Dru. Leave the bloody country. Just go." He waited for her to leave, then turned to Buffy. Her eyes were cold as she glared at him. She then turned and stalked off.

Spike went to the demon bar he had discovered in the 1970s, fed quickly on a few bags of blood, and then returned to the Plaza. When he reached the penthouse, he opened the door and entered the bedroom. Buffy was already in bed. The bolster pillow was back on the bed, and he saw that she was clothed. Sighing, he stripped and climbed under the covers on the other side of the thick cushion.

He could hear Buffy's uneven breathing, and feel the slight motion in the mattress that signified that she was weeping silently. He lay awake for a long while, until finally exhaustion claimed him.

Spike awoke the next afternoon to find that his wife wasn't in the penthouse. He sighed in resignation, then noticed a slip of paper on his nightstand. It was addressed to him, but it wasn't Buffy's bubbly script. Spike's blue eyes widened as he read the note.

My Spike, the note read, Miss Edith says we should have a party. I invited the little Slayer. Miss Edith says you won't find us before there's someone new in our family. The stars are screaming, my Spike. I am still your black princess. Spike's hand was trembling as he re-read the paper, and he collapsed to the floor, broken, before the note fluttered to the carpet.

"Little girl," the lunatic vampiress began, clucking her tongue at her. "Little girl, you can't take my Spike from me. I will always be his princess." She sidled over to the blond woman who had regained consciousness a few minutes earlier, and now hung weakly in manacles suspended from the ceiling of the small, darkened room. "You will pay for trying to take him away."

Drusilla picked up a needle-sharp knife and set to work carving a message to Spike in the back of the tiny Slayer. Buffy hissed in pain. "You know that you're not going to get away with this, Drusilla," she said through clenched teeth, ignoring the wet burning emanating from her back. "Even if Spike doesn't save me, and you kill me, some day there'll be a Slayer who you can't kill."

"Miss Edith tells me he is searching. He will be too late." The vampiress giggled, picking up a small jar with a somewhat cloudy fluid sloshing inside. She opened the top and tossed the contents of the jar onto the cuts that she had made in Buffy's back. This time, as the lemon juice flowed into the gashes that Drusilla had inflicted upon her, Buffy screamed.

Spike's back was burning. It wasn't from sunlight, or a cross, or holy water, though it felt as though all three were in direct contact with the flesh there. In his mind he heard a soft whimpering. Spike... a pain-filled voice called as if from a distance. Help me, Spike. His head whipped up as he realized that she was calling to him in her mind.

Buffy? he asked in his mind. Buffy, luv, can you hear me?

A beat. Spike? God, it hurts so much... Buffy's voice came through in his mind once again.

Pet, I need you to promise me something. I'm going to save you. Just promise me you'll stay alive. Spike crossed his fingers, hoping she would respond.

I will. And Spike? Hurry.

For the first time in 103 years, as he raced down the stairs (too impatient to take the elevator) and out into the street, his blanket covering his head, Spike prayed.

"Be in me," Drusilla commanded, staring into Buffy's eyes. "Be in my eyes." She waved two fingers in front of the lax Slayer's face, then began feed images to the blond.

Buffy was suddenly back in the hotel room with Spike. But instead of being tender like he usually was, he was rough, pulling out and rolling over onto his side as soon as he climaxed. He had used her. When Buffy moved to leave the bed, Spike pinned her there, telling her, "I don't think I gave you permission to leave."

"But... but I..." Buffy protested.

"Shut the bloody hell up. Do you think I give a shit about what you want?" he asked, sneering. "You're really not that good anyway."

Angelus' voice came from nowhere to taunt Buffy. "Did you really expect me to stick around after *that*?" he asked in his arrogant manner. "Really, though, I thought you were a pro."

"Little girl, I will always be his princess," Drusilla hissed.

Joyce Summers' voice suddenly spoke clearly in her mind. "Why couldn't I have had a normal daughter? Like Faith?"

"You're pathetic. I never thought the day would come when I saw a bigger loser than myself," Xander mocked.

Willow's face appeared and she glared at her. "I had a normal life until you showed up. You ruined my life."

Suddenly the voices and the images were gone, and Buffy was back in the small, dark room, chained to the ceiling. "You see now? You are worthless, Slayer." Drusilla giggled. "Worthless!"

Buffy sobbed.

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