Atlantis

= Atlantis, Chapter Six =


Bodies pressed against one another in a slick, twisting sensation. Gunn wanted to get away, question what was happening, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was the constant beat of drums. Maybe it was that sickly sweet scent in the air, which drifted up from the many cups held in the dancers' hands. Gunn couldn't count how many there were. A body pressed here. A hand groping there. Someone licked up his neck, and Gunn couldn't turn away.

Wesley was no where to be found. The moment they had entered this so called library, the Britain had been snatched up and dragged toward the back room by the young man who had answered the door. Gunn had tried to protest, but the dancing figures had closed in and he couldn't get away. He wanted to blame it on magic. Blame it on something, because he needed to find Wesley. He needed to make sure Wesley was okay.

A cup was shoved into his hand. Gunn stared down at it's contents as the dancer's moved to the erotic beat, jostling his hand with each twist of a hip bone. Hands, wet with sweat, slid up his chest, under his shirt. The smell of the liquid enveloped him. Something, somewhere, whispered soft words into his ear. As though watching from a distance, Gunn brought the cup up and drank it all down.

It burned as it slid down his throat. The taste was fruity and sweat. Tthe effects appeared to be immediate. The music thrummed through Gunn's body. Before it was a beat that vibrated his feet and caused those around him to turn and twist in obscene ways. Now, it was a part of him. It flowed through the air like clouds caught by the wind. It was magical and lyrical and filled with such sexual energy that Gunn found himself desperate to climb into the nearest body and simply thrust.

It was a maddening sensation, being able to feel the movements around him. Every arch of a back, every groan of an unknown name, and every caress of a hand. It surrounded him, clouding his mind and thoughts. Everything came down to this moment. All that mattered, was here. Bodies and sweat. Heat and rhythm. Sex and song. Gunn closed his eyes and simply allowed the siren song to take him away.

Wesley could hear the music in the other room, could faintly make out the thumps of dancing feet. It was muffled by the heavy door that blocked his path to freedom. A heavy door with heavy locks that had clicked closed the moment he had been shoved inside. Candle light flickered through the room, creating harsh shadows and soft flames.

Wesley took a deep breath and looked at the large figured in the corner. It was a man, that was for certain. The candles revealed very little, except a muscular arm that rested on the small table before him. The table looked rather ordinary, except for the foot long wooden slab that had five lines of white dust upon it.

"Welcome." A deep voice greeted, followed by a chuckle. "Sit."

Wesley tried not to jump as a wooden chair materialized in front of the table. His eyes scanned the room once more, looking for a way to escape. The only route proved to the be the door and he prayed that at any moment Gunn would come crashing through to save him.

"Sit, slave." The man growled. Wesley slowly walked over and sat down. He could hear his heartbeat pounding into his ears.

"I'm not a slave." Wesley said, having finally registered what the man had said.

"Aren't you?" The chuckle filled the room once more. "But you are so... Dirty and thin."

"I beg your pardon, but I am not-"

"Silence!" The man bellowed. "You are a very stupid human, slave."

"But-"

"You may not be a slave to those outside this room, but you are the slave of the gods now." Wesley's jaw dropped and he stared at the showy figure. The man seemed to be satisfied by Wesley's silence. Raising his large hand, he gently pushed the wooden slab towards Wesley. "Here are your... Books. As requested."

"Oh, dear." Wesley muttered, staring down at the white substance. He fought his curious nature, and didn't touch it. "Umm, sir, I do believe I was mistaken."

"Is it not to your liking?" The man asked. "Surely, despite the method of distribution, whom it comes from makes it worthy of your consumption."

"That is not it, sir." Wesley was careful to include the title. The last thing he needed was some angry drug dealer on his hands. "I was under the impression that this was a library."

"Great Zeus!" The man guffawed. Wesley winced as the sound sent a faint tremor through his chair. "Are you from the Northern Territory? Do you not know of the great Dionysus?"

"I'm aware of him, yes, but you are correct in stating I'm not from around here." Wesley replied.

"Well, then." The man leaned forward, the light finally casting across his face. Pale blue eyes stared back at Wesley and a large, toothy mouth grinned. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ganymede."

"Ganymede." Wesley repeated, before his eyes went wide behind his glasses. "The cupbearer to the gods."

"Yes, well, not so much now days." Ganymede's grin widened and turned rather lecherous. "Zeus found no more use of me, I should say. Now I am here, bringing happiness to the people of Atlantis. With a little help from my friend Dionysus and his delectable treats, of course."

"I'm not surprised." Wesley blinked. "Well, actually I should be surprised, but I find myself not at all shocked by this revelation."

"Enough chatter, slave." Ganymede gestured toward the white dust before Wesley. "A gift from the god Dionysus to his newest slave. Go on."

"I've never..." Wesley found himself blushing despite the serious situation. This man, an immortal as he so claimed, had just stated that Wesley basically belonged to the god of wine. A god that was known for the rituals of sex and intoxication held in his honor.

"You've never tried?" Ganymede guffawed once more. "You are a strange one, aren't you?"

"I'm very sorry, but my friend-"

"Ah, he is enjoying the touch of many men and women no doubt." Ganymede waved his hand. "No worries for him, slave. He will be fine. Now, let me show you the proper way..."

Wesley gulped as Ganymede's large, seven foot tall figure stood and slid around the table towards him. Wesley had a feeling he was in big trouble.

"We are in big trouble." Xander stated. Spike's hand gripped his own tightly. They stared at the glowing figure and watched, in shock, as the light slowly faded to a dull pulse.

A woman stood before them. She was short and had a small, yet muscular, build. A quiver of arrows was strapped to her back, and a long bow was held in her left hand. Her knee length dress was made of leather, looking sort of like what Xander imagined an Amazon to wear. Her light brown hair was pulled into a high ponytail. The light appeared to originate from her eyes, which were a pure white that seemed to glow steadily.

Spike pushed Xander further behind him, not trusting the small woman that stood before them. At his movement, the woman withdrew an arrow and loaded her bow. This was done in less than a second and before Spike could blink a wooden arrow was trained at his heart. The woman seemed to gaze at him, waiting for his first move.

"There is no need for that." Spike said softly. He could see Thelsea standing behind the woman, looking tall and foreboding compared to the small figure.

"You will not move from that spot, animal." The woman's voice seemed to echo around them. Xander shivered involuntarily and felt Spike stiffen against him.

"Who are you?" Spike asked, his voice low and close to a growl.

"My name is not of your concern. This is my temple and therefore my territory." The woman's glowing eyes narrowed. "So... You are the ones that brought the intruder here."

"Intruder? We didn't have anything to do with that." Xander protested.

"Silence, male." The woman ordered. Her head tilted, in a fashion that reminded Xander of when Spike was scenting the air. Slowly, she turned to head towards the side hallway that lead to Tara's room. A slow sneer appeared on her face, contorting it in agitation. Sending Spike one last harsh look, she lowered her bow and arrow. Ignoring them, she swiftly turned on her feet.

"Oi! Where do you think you're going?" Spike asked, stepping forward.

"Spike!" Thelsea hissed as the woman strode past her and into the hall. "You will not speak to her in such a way."

"Oh, really?" Spike glared. "Who is she then? Where is she going?"

"She will cast the intruder out of the temple." Thelsea explained. The woman disappeared down the softly lit hallway. "Be happy. You just survived an encounter with Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt."

"Please." Spike scoffed, before frowning. "You're serious?"

"What reason do I have to lie?" Thelsea asked.

"She is gone." The short goddess came stomping out of the hallway, her face radiating anger. "She has escaped."

"Who?" Xander asked.

"The one you call Tara." Artemis replied.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Spike exclaimed. "She's practically in a bloody coma, how far could she go?" Spike growled and shoved past Artemis to get to the hallway. Xander bounced from foot to foot, watching as the goddess crossed her arms and glared at Spike's retreated form.

"Um, excuse me." Xander said softly, squeezing past her and hurrying after Spike. He caught up with the vampire at Tara's doorway. "That wasn't very bright, Spike."

"I don't really care, do I?" Spike smirked.

"Just... Be careful." Xander replied as he stepped into the room. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to Spike. "I don't get it."

"I know. It doesn't make any sense." Spike shook his head and began patting at his duster in search of cigarettes. Finally locating them, he pulled one out and lit it. For once, Xander didn't feel like complaining about the smell or location of Spike's smoking. "Do you understand why I didn't trust Thelsea, now?"

"I don't think she had anything to do with this." Xander said softly. "Something else is going on here. Something much bigger than Thelsea or ourselves."

"Something involving our little blonde witch." Spike added.

"Yeah." Xander nodded. With a sigh, Xander took one last look at Tara's empty bed and then followed Spike out of the room.