Gunpowder and Lace

2. Seventeen

“Spike, come on, man, let’s go!” The man with the gun was motioning towards the doors. Liz could hear the sirens in the distance if she really listened to them. She was thankful that they were leaving. And she still had her life.

Spike started striding toward the doors when he heard a strangled little whimper from the floor. He looked down. At his feet lay a beautiful blonde angel. She was visibly shaking. Spike tilted his head a bit. He was used to it, however. Spike, Warren, and Robin had been working together now for several years. They had robbed their fair share of banks. It wasn’t a career choice, at least not for Spike. It was a necessity. He needed money.

They never went for the vault. They would always just be in and out, usually in under five minutes, two trash bags full of money in their hands. Warren Mears was the brains of the operation. All the little gadgets that Spike didn’t understand? That’s what Warren was there for. And Robin? Robin was the muscle. The big guns. If there was one of them you didn’t want to get in the way of, it was definitely Robin. Lastly, there was Spike. He was in charge.

He snapped out of it and looked down at the girl who was now crying a bit louder. He noticed something shaking in her grasp. It was a slip of paper. He bent down and snatched it from her hands. Glancing from the paper to the girl, it didn’t take him very long at all to decide what to do next. He swooped her up off the floor and started dragging her toward the door with him.

Warren’s eyes bugged out. “Dude, what are you doing?”

Robin held his hand out as if to stop Spike from exiting the bank. “I don’t think so, man. Put her back. In and out, no complications. Those are your words, not mine.”

Spike scowled at Robin. “Get out of my way.”

Robin stepped to the side, allowing Spike to sweep past him, tugging Liz behind him as she cried and begged him to stop. Spike didn’t slow his pace as he called back to a stunned Robin and Warren. “Don’t forget the bags. Sort of what we came for. Let’s get a move on, gents!”

Robin and Warren had no time to argue, nor did they want to argue with Spike. While they were worried, there wasn’t anything they could do about their leader’s sudden decision to take a hostage. They grabbed the bags and ran out of the building.

Robin was getting into the driver’s seat of the black van as Spike was opening the back doors and hauling himself and the young girl into the back of the van. As soon as Warren’s back hit the front seat, the van’s engine roared to life and screeched away, the men leaving only scared and silent people laying on the bank floor.


Liz was absolutely horrified. She could not believe that these men had kidnapped her. She had seen things about kidnappings and bank robberies all the time on the news but nothing had prepared her for this. She never would have thought that this would happen to her. She looked up at this man who had taken her. He was leaning toward the front of the van, talking silently with the other two robbers. She had to admit that he was gorgeous. Tall and slender with chiseled cheekbones and platinum blonde hair. She briefly wondered how he hadn’t been caught yet, being so recognizable.

He abruptly turned to her. He stared her in the eyes until she lowered her gaze. He chuckled. “Shy little thing, aren’t you?”

It registered in her mind that he was British. She was surprised she hadn’t noticed before, because it was very strong and dripped of sexiness. Ashamed that she was thinking about this man…no, this monster in such an inappropriate way, she blushed.

Of course, he noticed. “Why are you blushing, pet? See something you like?”

What an arrogant son of a- “Of course not! That is gross, you’re like, forty.”

“Not quite yet.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he smirked at her.

Gathering up all of her courage, Liz said, “Why did you take me? I did just as your friend said. I didn’t move.”

To be honest, Spike had no idea why he grabbed her. He had no intentions of taking hostages. He never had before, that is for sure. There had been something about seeing her, laying on the floor, looking all innocent and scared. It had made something inside him stir and come to life. A wave of heat washed over him as he had ripped the check she was carrying out of her little hands and pulled her up off the ground. Inwardly shivering, he pushed thoughts of her tight little body aside. No mixing business with pleasure.

He fingered the check, folded one edge down slightly. Clucked his tongue. “Payable to the order of Buffy Summers.” He smiled at her. “Buffy, eh?”

She melted. Then she realized she melted, shrugged it off to the best of her ability and looked at him. “My name is Lizbeth.”

“Not what it says here pet.”

“My name is Lizbeth. My family has called me Buffy since I was a kid. Lizbeth is more appropriate. I’m older now.” Why was she discussing this with him?

Spike scanned over the check. “From Grandma Summers, I presume?”

Liz nervously looked at her feet. “Yeah. So what? You can have it, I don’t need it. Just let me go.”

Spike laughed. “I don’t want your pitiful hundred dollar check. Were you not there at the bank with me when I stole all that money?”

“Then why did you take it from me?” Liz still couldn’t believe she was holding conversation with this man. Though at least he wasn’t killing her. That was a definite plus.

“Somethin’ about it caught my eye. Maybe it was the pooh bear background. Cute.”

He was mocking her. Whatever. Though she had to admit, she was a little embarrassed. She must look like such a little girl. Going to the bank to cash Grandma’s pooh bear check.

“So what’s the occasion, love?” His deep and sultry voice drew her out of her mind.

“It was my birthday this week-end.”

“So it was. Happy Birthday, Buffy!”

His faux enthusiasm irked her. Dryly she said, “Thanks.”

“Tell me, Buffy, how many birthday candles did you blow out this year?”

“My name is not Buffy. My name is Lizbeth. I’d prefer you not use either. Actually, I prefer you not speak to me at all. When can I go home?”

This girl had some stones. To be held at gunpoint and kidnapped, and still have enough balls to look him in the eye and give attitude? He liked it. “Your name is Buffy for now. I like it better. It suits you. I’ll speak to you however I please, and you’re not going home.” He paused. “Not yet, anyway. Now answer my question.” He almost growled.

Liz could swear she just heard him growl. That silenced her momentarily. “Seventeen.” Maybe if she just humored him, he would let her go. Fat chance, her inner voice yelled. She ignored her inner voice and pretended it said, you betcha! instead.

Spike was visibly surprised. Only seventeen? It was obvious that she was quite young, but he never would have guessed seventeen. And to just have turned seventeen? That means last week she was sixteen. Spike told his inner voice to go fuck itself.


They were silent the rest of the ride.

A/N: If you read, please review. It really makes my day. It also benefits you, the reader, because when I get reviews, the writing flows better. Which means much hotter sex. Which, yes, it is still to come. The build up is half the fun, right?