A Trunk Full of Trouble

A/N: Great News!! The beta problem is solved, and the chapters are coming out again. Peta is being so nice to beta this story , and Evilawyer is taking on Cretian Escape. So big thanks to Peta for the beta-ing and look for a new chapter soon.

Chapter 2 – The Trouble

“What the fucking hell is going on?” Buffy gritted out, wishing that she had a cigarette and a flashlight, in that order. Actually, Buffy’s priority number one was to get out of the damn trunk so the flashlight would have to come first. If she had one, that is. She changed tactics. First she had been kicking on the roof of the trunk. Now she started kicking the lock keeping her in the trunk.

Ever since she found out that she was supposed to be some slayer girl thingie, her life has been a mess. Well, more of a mess than it had already been. Giles, the head watcher guy, showed up one day at her foster home and took her with the barest of explanation to the Watchers’ Council to train with the other slayers-in-training. Vampires and demons? What’s up with that? B One One day she was the bane of her foster mother’s existence, and the next, she was playing kung fu with other girls. Ok, she could do that. Also, she now had good food and shelter, and everyone was nice to her. Great. But, and there was always one of those damn buts and it wasn’t even attached to a good looking male, she had been there a year, and her slayer powers were not developing. To be exact, her strength was only slightly above normal and hadn’t changed.

As a result, since she was the one that was at the academy the longest, it was easy for people to overlook her. She just blended into the scenery. Needing attention? Voila, a kidnapping. She had never known her dad, and she was taken away from her crack head mom when she was five years old, so she was starved for attention. For her scheme, she had fixated on the head of the Watchers’ Council, Rupert Giles. Father figure much?

It should have been so easy. Make a couple of calls giving them directions, tape herself up, get in the trunk, and wait for the rescue. She just hadn’t known that she was waiting for the car to be stolen. Of all the bad fucking luck? Buffy continued kicking at the lock with what slayer strength she did have.

One moment she was in the dark, and the next she was looking at the ceiling of the garage. Well, score one for Buffy. She scrambled out of the trunk the best she could while being bound. First she went for the tape around her mouth. When it was finally off, she took numerous deep breaths before attacking the tape on her legs. Last, she reached into her right boot and pulled out the key to the handcuffs. And using that little jewel, she freed up her right hand, but not bothering to unlock the left. After all, the handcuffs could come in handy as a weapon.

There were expensive cars everywhere, and normally she would take the time to drool on each one, but not this time. Ignoring them all, she walked around checking every door. All she found were locked. Rushing back to her car, she found her cell phone where it had slid under her seat when the car was in the process of being stolen.

“Hello, Watchers’ Council.”

The person that answered the phone was so calm that Buffy wanted to reach through the line and snatch her bald, as her no good mother use to say. “This is Buffy Summers. I need to talk to Giles. Fast. Like last week.”

When Giles came on the line, he was just as calm. Maybe she should snatch him bald, too. “Buffy?”

“Giles. I need help. I’ve been kidnapped.”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he sighed. He had suspected that she was faking the kidnapping, but now things were different. “That I know since the car wasn’t where it was supposed we were told it would be. Where are you?”

“I don’t know where I am. All I know is that I’m in this huge warehouse with all these cars.”

“Have you tried to leave?” He talked as if Buffy were a child.

Yep, she should snatch him bald when she saw him next. “Duh! Of course I tried, but every door is locked. Giles, I’m scared. You have to help…Wait, he’s back.” Buffy slammed the phone closed, threw it in the car and ran to the far sidethe the garage, hiding behind a yellow Ferrari.

Spike walked in and relocked the door and immediately headed for the red BMW. Bloody hell, the trunk was open, and when he looked inside, it was empty. Bloody fucking hell.

“Can I have my car?” A female voice called from his right.

Spike ducked behind the car and peeked around until he could catch a glimpse of her. Feeling like a grade A ponce, he hid because if she saw his face, she could identify him. She had caught a glimpse when he had opened the trunk, but that was only a glimpse. Of course his hair stood out, but he could always dye it. He just wanted her gone and her car left behind.

“Hey, can I have my car back so I can leave? I won’t tell anyone about this place. Promise.” Instead of sounding scared as Spike would have expected, her voice now sounded impatient.

“Look, ducks, I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I am that you are here.” He was trying to hide his British accent but was doing a lousy job, especially after just calling her “ducks.”

Buffy started creeping to her right, towards the tunnel he had come in through. “Then give me my car back, and I will leave.”

Now this he knew the answer to. “You’re going to have to leave. You got that part right, but you are leaving without your car.”

Normally, Spike wasn’t particularly thrilled with being a vampire, but this time he was thankful for the speed that came with his demon. He caught up with her at the door to the outside and turned her around by the shoulders. Hiding his face be-damned. “Look, I don’t…”

Slaammm! Buffy brought her boney little knee up into the man’s leather covered crotch as hard as she could and judging from his reaction, it had been pretty hard. She snickered as he hopped around as she turned back to the door, the unfortunately locked door.

When he could finally stand easier, he held up a hand, palm towards her, and told her, “I don’t want to fight with you.” Lot of sodding good that did him when she attacked again. They tussled until he could throw her off. Granted he was way stronger than she was, but he just didn’t want to hurt her. “Hey, Lenox Lewis’ sis, I don’t want to fight with you. Why don’t we come back into the garage and chat this out.”

The next attack was worse, sending them rolling down the tunnel. Mostly defending himself from her stronger than expected blows, they rolled towards the cars. That’s were he finalot tot the upper hand, and opened his mouth to give her a blistering…

“I’ve got to pee.” Buffy’s eyes implored Spike to help her with the delicate problem.

That definitely wasn’t anywhere near on this planet what he was expecting the blonde to say. Her look was on the harsh side, but her voice sounded like a little girl. Oh, man, he wanted to refuse her request just out of perversity, but the Victorian inside him couldn’t deny the lady, even a lady that had just knocked his stones up to his waist. “Now, I told you that I don’t want to fight, so if you do anything between here and the loo, I am going to tie you back up like you were in the car. Got it?”

“Got it.”

It was a small restroom. He showed her where everything was located, and when she wasn’t paying attention, he took the handcuff still dangling from her left wrist and locked her to an exposed pipe near the toilet.

Buffy jerked frantically on the pipe. “Hey, no fair.”

“Frankly right now, chicky, I don’t care what is fair or not. Bugger Marquis of Queensbury, it’s my rules now.” Before he could berate her anymore, he could hear Xander calling for him in the garage. Spike turned back to the girl and pointed his finger one inch from her nose. “Don’t touch anything. Don’t say anything. Don’t …just don’t.” He shut the door before she lashed out with her leg, but he could hear her yells, “Hey, pathetic much? Don’t you want to play anymore?”

Spike rushed over to the entry way to meet Xander, who was sauntering in, cockily strutting with every step. Spike’s bag man was a human, and his good sense of humor eased his way through the black market demon world. He held up a bag for Spike to see. “I know we were going to meet tomorrow, but since I was coming over, I brought it. Got it right here. Two hundred thousand, your half of this job. They will be here to pick up the cars early tomorrow morning.”

“Xander, we have a big problem.” Spike didn’t even need to breathe, but he was hyperventilating. “Mucho grande problem.”
aighaight off, Xander spotted the red BMW and was drawn towards it. “Oh, sweeeet. The convertible was such a nice extra touch.”

“XANDER!” At the frantic tone in his friend’s voice, Xander finally focused on Spike. “We have a problem.”

His brunette friend rolled his eyes. “You’ve told me that already, ditto man.”

Xander took a step towards the car again, but Spike blocked him. “No.” Spike grabbed hold of Xander’s ears and pulled them open wide. “The owner of the car came with the car.”

Xander just stared. “Whaa…”

“I stole the bloody car, right? And then when I got here, I heard banging. I opened the trunk, and wham, there’s the owner all tied up pretty as you please.” Spike attempted to calm down. Yeah, right.

“We are so screwed. The owner’s in the trunk?”

“Nooo!” Spike slapped Xander against the side of his head for not paying attention, which was beside the point that Spike hadn’t even told that part of the story yet. But here goes. “When I went over to the diner to call you, she got out.”

“OUT?” Xander yelped and started to look around the garage.

“No, I caught and handcuffed her to the pipe in the bathroom.”

“So let me get this straight for us science fiction fans. Yove tve the owner of this BMW handcuffed in your bathroom.”

“Yes.” Relieved that Xander finally understood, Spike vigorously nodded.

Xander collapsed on a ragged sofa against a nearby wall. “We are soooo screwed.”

Spike joined him. “Don’t I know it. Bugger it all to hell.”

“You’ve got to get rid her.”

“Gee, Xan, did you think that one up all on your own?”

They heard a crash and then glass breaking. “There went the medicine cabinet.” Spike rolled his eyes. “She’s got to go before she breaks the toilet.”

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“Get in the trunk.” Spike pushed Buffy toward the back end of the 1967 black corvette with red leather interior, class on wheels.

Buffy was now wearing her red leather jacket retrieved from the back seat of her car and had her back pack from Spike’s office. She also had on bell bottom black pants, and a black shirt that said, “I bite,” which Spike thought could mean many things and all be true. Her outfit wouldn’t be complete without the handcuffs. To tell the truth, he would have shackled her feet if he had some.

Buffy balked. “I’m not getting in there.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Oh, no, I’m not.”

“You’ve already been in one, and it was on purpose, I might add, missy. Do it for old time sake.” Spike grabbed the back of her head and tried to shove her in.

Buffy ducked to the side out of his grasp. “Read my lips – NO!”

Buffy got in a good shot with her elbow to his ribs, and while he was distracted, she snatched his cigarette and took a couple of drags. “Here,” she picked up a black, stocking cap off a work table. “I can wear this pulled down over my face.

Spike stood for a moment and debated. Finally, he shoved her and the knit cap into the passenger seat of the corvette. He didn’t notice her toss his cigarette over her shoulder because he was thinking of all the places he would lik dro drop her off, all of which she would hate.

He got in and started the car up. “Ok, you annoying bint, here are the rules. The cap stays down over your eyes so you can’t see where this place is located. Second,” he shoved her head between her legs, “you stay down like this. Cap on. Head down.”

“As if.” She shot back up straight in her seat.

“Oh, yes if.” He shoved her back down.

He fought with her to keep her down until they were about five miles before he let her up.

“Geez. Paranoid much.” She took off the cap and threw it at him. “So tell me, did you get off stealing my car?” She waited for him to answer but waited for nothing. “Oh, I get it. You are the strong, silent type. Oh wait, sorry, that would be the weak, peroxide type.” Buffy reached out and opened the glove compartment, but he immediately slammed it shut before it was completely open. “Ooooh, watcha got in there? How to pick up chick books?”

Spike glared over at her but kept his silence.

“What is it? What do you need this old…?”

“Classic.”

“Old car for? Does it make you feel young, grandpa. All those cars in that garage, and you pick this to drive?” There was no way she was going to admit just how hot she thought the car was. Or how hot he was. That would be a cut-out-her-tongue offense, but man, he must be a chick magnet. No book or car needed.

Spike was trying not to laugh. ‘Grandpa.’ She had no idea how old he was. She would have to try a different insult to get him to bite.

Damn, the topic of his car hadn’t worked. Buffy went for simple. “So what’s your name?”

With no expression on his face, Spike looked at her and then back at the road. “John Doe.”

“Funny.” Bored, bored, bored. She was bored, and she wanted to take it out on him. “This is all your fault anyway. You screwed up my kidnapping plan.”

That finally provoked Spike’s attention. His head snapped around to look at her like she had two heads, which god forbid because then she would have two mouths to talk with. “You put yourself in that bloody trunk, you daft bint?”

“Damn straight. d jud just called them with a disguised voice telling them the location of the car when you stole the car, Mr. Grand Theft Auto.”

After waiting for a reply for a few minutes, Buffy realized that she wasn’t going to get one. Rolling her eyes, she tried to think of something to to provoke him. “What happened to your hair? Someone dip you in white paint?”

Wide miss on her part, Spike thought. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thought of his hair, and believe him, tons had made comments. But he did give her an A for effort so far during the drive to provoke him.

“Are you trying to pick up girls with that look…or maybe its guys. All that black leather, they must take one look at your ass and nearly swoon.” Buffy could have slapped herself. She had practically admitted that she had ogled his ass, which she really had, but she didn’t want him to know that.

Oh, he hadn’t missed the slip and found it very interesting, but had had enough of her needling for a while. “One time I stole this car that had a Pomeranian in it. It yapped less than you.” That was all he said for the next twenty minutes.

For the last fifteen of those twenty minutes, they had been driving in a very densely wooded area, and he turned off on what ended up to be a dead end road. Perfect. As soon he was in park, he reached over and undid her cuffs.

“Oh, God, I am SO glad to get those off. My wrists are killing me.”

Spike got out of the car and went around to her door. When he opened the door, Buffy started catching on. “Oh no. You can’t leave me out here. Did you leave the Pomeranian out here? How long did it last?”

Spike pulled her kicking and screaming about twenty feet from car car and left her by a tree. “Nothing personal, goldilocks. I just don’t want to be associated with kidnapping, even if it is a fake kidnapping. ”

Buffy pleaded. “But you can’t leave me here. There are bears, wolves, and who knows what.”

“You can no doubt talk them out of eating you.” Spike got back into his car and started the engine. And BAM, Buffy hurled herself onto the hood of the car, gripping where the wind shield wipers were located.

Well, that got a reaction from Spike. Spike shot out of the car and raced around to her side. “What the bloody fucking hell do you think you are doing?” Grasping her by the collar of her leather coat, he pulled her off and heard her slide along, a sound like fingernails on a chalk board to his ears. He kept his grip on her but stared down at the hood. “Look what you did, you empty headed chit.” He pushed her down until her nose was four inches from the paint. “See those? Those scratches are blasphemy. This is a 1967 Corvette, not some 1980 Honda Civic.” He pulled her back up and looked at her.

“Sorry?” He had her so high off the ground that the toes of her boots hardly touched the ground.

Radiating anger, he just looked at her. But that turned out to be a mistake. He should have just thrown her to the side and gone on. But there was just something about her that made him want to help her instead of ditch her, and damn it all to hell, he hated that feeling, especially after her scratching his car. There was just something about her that spoke in whispers to something deep inside of him. Spike let go of her and walked back to the driver’s side while Buffy took advantage of the moment and hopped back into the car. Ok, Spike thought, he needed to go to Plan B, that is think of a Plan B.

Plan B ended up driving her back to the main road and kicking her out of the car two miles from a gas station. Thankfully, she was pissed but realized this was a better situation and didn’t complain much. All he had to do was throw her back pack that she had forgotten at her as he drove off.

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Yeah, to tell the honest truth, which he was only going to do to himself in the privacy of his car, he felt bad about dumping that girl on the side of the road. But it wasn’t as if she was exactly weaponless. Her mouth could stop any nasty driving by that might mistakenly think she looked yummy. He was so agitated that he smoked his last couple of fags in the couple of minutes it took to get to the nearby gas station. Well, put fags on top of his shopping list. When he did go inside, even with the additio his his list, the list was short. Two packs of cigarettes, some snacks, and most importantly, a bottle of Jack Daniels. If he ever needed a good buzz, it was tonight.

As the cashier rang him up, Spike glanced at the television over to the side of the counter, the typical country mini-mart center piece for the boring times during the days and nights with no customers. He watched with a tad of interest as an industrial building burned back in Los Angeles, which was of little interest until he recognized the building as the garage in which he stored his cars. And then, as if he wasn’t in enough shock, a picture of the girl he had just dropped off on the side of the road was flashed up on the screen. Spike listened to the newsreader in horror. “…Her name is Buffy Summers, and she is assumed to have been kidnapped. The car she had been driving was found in this burning building that appears to be storage for car thieves, leading the police to believe that she was kidnapped by the same car thief that used this garage to store his pilfered cars...”

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TBC

Reviews please. I would really like some feedback on this one.
Thanks
Dana