Drink Me

Buffy and Spike were back in their respective rooms at the motel, but neither was sleeping.

In an attempt to put herself back on an even keel Buffy had let the glamour slip, she had watched her hair change from dark brown back to blond in an instant. Also she had slipped into a pair of silk pyjamas like she wore when she slept in her own bed at home, rather than the zero night attire she wore at the mansion and here on the first night, she hoped by the gesture to regain her....Buffyness.

It hadn't worked, she still felt wrong, the vampiress was still there, her thoughts were of cruelty and wickedness, she wanted to hunt and for Buffy to throw open the interconnecting door and beg Spike to fuck her like a bitch.

The Slayer wished she had never left Sunnydale, left the familiar things that anchored her to her soul. She knew she had no danger of losing it but still..still...still the voice cried out in her head.
Barefooted she paced up and down, hands pressed over her ears, as if the noise was coming from outside not inside her head. "Stop it.....I can't.......I won't........I love Angel not Spike........I won't do it."

"Are you alright in there Buffy?" The question was tentative to say the least even if semi shouted through a locked door.

"Yeah, I'm fine Spike.....sorry if I woke you." But she wasn't sorry, why should the object of her affections not suffer to. *I'm going to be stuck in here all day with him, god I wish I could get out on my own.* Walking round LA on her own though would be worse than suicide, but suicide was an option.

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On his side of the door Spike stood stock still, hands itching to force the lock, certain from the kiss that Buffy would throw herself straight into his arms if the chance presented itself.

Or alternatively she might beat him to death with her bed, but it was worth the risk.

His hand went for the door handle almost as if it had a life of its own, then jumped back just as fast as Spike heard the key turn.
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Back to brunette again Buffy had reached a conclusion.

*When Angel does stuff as Angelus he gets forgiven, cause he's not himself, not in control......So if Buffylus goes a little off the rails sometimes then the same thing holds.......especially if I don't tell people. Guilt, guilt is what binds Angel's soul to him, guilt I don't have, guilt I need.*

As her hand went up to the door she paused, *Problem, what if I enjoy it?.....Buffy that is....not Buffylus.....what if I wind up liking Spike more that Angel. Ok sex or insanity............*

She unlocked the door, as she twisted the handle she though she heard footsteps on the other side and paused, but then she was framed in the doorway, looking lost rather than lusty. "Hey."

"Oh hullo Buffy, you not sleepy pet?" Spike was lying on the bed in just his boxers, he looked gorgeous, his alabaster skin contracted with the dark blue sheets he was lying on. He as trying to look nonchalant, and failing dismally.

"Uh......no......actually I couldn't." Buffy took a couple of steps forward into the room. "Is it ok if we talk for awhile?"

"Sure luv," Spike patted the bed beside him. "Come an lye.....er, sit here beside me."

A couple steps more the Buffy hesitated, *I'm Buffy Anne Summers, the Slayer, Angel's girl not Buffylus........but god he's cute.*

Delicately and gently she sat, knees together, hands on her thighs, eyes looking firmly away from Spike. "So do you think we'll find our vamps tonight?"

*Who bloody cares?* Spike itched to touch her, to run his fingers through her hair, but if small talk was what Buffy wanted, small talk was what she would get. "Like...I like you pyjamas kitten, blue silk, do they feel as good as they look?"

Silk on bare skin, on nipples that were already erect, and pressing into her core stimulating her, like she wasn't horny enough. "Yeah.....kinda."

"Slayer, your all tense......want me to massage your back?" Spike got ready to make a move, to kneel behind her and caress her through the silk, but the bed abruptly emptied.

*Slayer......I'm the Slayer.......need to get out of here.......but I want to be here.* Turning the confused vampiress looked back at Spike, he looked swoon worthy and randy, there was a large bulge in his boxers he could not hope to conceal. *Yikes!*

"There's a soda machine down the hall."

"Yes kitten there is, do you want a soda?"

"If you'd like one too?"

"Well if your having one I might as well, and we can drink them together in......on my bed."

"That would be fun drinking soda in........on your bed, have you got change?"

"Sure luv, I'll put me pants on and go get some."

"It's ok......I could use a walk......not that I don't want...like it in here.......but air. You got an ice bucket?"

"Pet we only need one each.........don't we."

"Well if we get thirsty later from.......trust me, we just might be thirsty later ok!"

"Ok!............here's the change......be careful......be back in two minutes or I come looking........the bucket's over there."

A huge smile crossed Spikes face as Buffy shot out of the room. *We might be thirsty later, bloody hell she wants to get sweaty with me, Angel is going to be so pissed when she gives 'im the elbow.*

It was obviously a little later in the day than Buffy had thought, a guy was pushing a huge laundry hamper down the hallway, but there was no queue at the drinks machine to her intense relief.

"Ok, diet coke for me.....fat coke for Spike......Doctor Pepper just in case......and a Sprite or two.....or three."

Kneeling she carefully positioned the cans in amongst the ice cubes, there was a noise of wheels behind her then a voice asked.

"Need any help with that miss?" The laundry hamper man had arrived beside her.

"No thanks I'm good........" Smiling the Slayer looked up and her eyes widened in shock.

PHUT.....the dart pistol was aimed from just four feet away, the dart slammed into Buffy's arm and the tranquilliser it contained entered her bloodstream. All the same she managed to make it to her feet and into a fighting stance before collapsing into her attackers arms.

In seconds the lid of the laundry hamper was up and Buffy, blond once more, was thrown inside, then the laundryman whistling cheerfully began to push his very expensive prize away.

Spike waited for three minutes, then reached for his pants and his boots. Rapidly getting into them he headed for the corridor. "'Ope she hasn't developed cold feet........cold feet......she'd a vampiress I'll 'ave to tell her that one...." He saw the abandoned ice bucket and the door at the end of the hallway swinging open. "Oh fuck."

He ran as fast as he could but when he crashed through the door all he could see was the tail lights of a transit van, he didn't even have time to remember the licence plate before the first rays of the dawn sunlight sent him crashing back into the motel.

"Damn them to fucking hell....." Spike put his boot into the wall a couple if times. "They'll have her out of the country before the bloody sun sets, I'm going to cut the balls of those mortal bastards when I find them......how can they do it, working for fuckin' vamps......"

Then he let it hit him, Buffy was gone. "I'll find you girl, if I have to follow all the way to England I will....an I'll kill anyone who's 'urt you on the way."

With that he retreated back to his room, praying even as he went that somehow it wouldn't be to late once the sun set, that he might still find his girl in LA and free her. He knew were to go to the Silver Snake, and he'd get answers this time, it was time for the railway spike.

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There were seven of them, and they were armed to the teeth.
They were mortals, a mix of races drawn from all the slums and barrios of LA. They had one thing in common they all worked for 'The Turk' who was sat in a sun proof, bullet proof, limo just up the street, ready to command his troops.

The group were lined up either side the door to the abandoned liqueur store waiting for Jose to take it out with the iron battering ram he carried. The two men nearest the door held stun grenades, they would be thrown in first. After detonation the sub machine gun totting gunmen would storm the building and blast the two vamps inside to fragments.

Chambering a round into the Beretta machine gun he carried, the leader spoke into a mike he wore in his sleeve. "In position, over."

Sipping coffee in his luxurious command vehicle Bakull smiled and answered simply. "Do it."

Jose smashed the heavy metal pole into the lock , it gave way at the first blow. The bombs were thrown in and the door pulled back shut. A double BOOM followed.

Shouldering his weapon Leroy Washington kicked the door back open and followed by his crew plunged into the fume filled interior.

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"Never get caught in the trap with the tiger." It wasn't exactly a guiding rule of the vetala's life, but it might as well have been.

As soon as he had arrived in the city, Browne had gone to look for a hidey-hole, a safe roost. He had found what he sought here, then he had gone to a late might opening hardware store and bought a van full of materials.

The first thing he had installed was a blast proof door in the entryway to the shops back room.

The second thing he did was to knock a hole in the floor, a hole that opened into the cellar. This was then covered by an airtight steel trap door, this lay open in between the two vampires sleeping mats.

Even with a hangover Harry was down the hole within seconds of the stun grenades exploding. Browne was about five seconds behind, he delayed to flick a switch on a small parcel, which was stuck on the side of a large jerry can of gasoline that stood beside the door, and then he pulled the trap door down above them.

The cellar had been altered the day they arrived back from Sunnydale. Keyholeing was a military tactic developed years after Browne had suffered his misfortune and found himself no longer a British soldier but instead an Indian vampire, it hadn't stopped him finding out about it later. The interconnecting walls all had nice round holes smashed through them.

The whole block was derelict, each building had a cellar. Their getaway vehicle a sun-proofed car was parked a short dash from the door of the end store.

Harry was two cellars ahead of him already. "Do ya call that running! juldi 'Arry juldi."

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Leroy and his men rapidly scanned the former store, nothing. Then they noticed the door.

"Sneaky fucks," they had no more stun grenades, they knew the vamps were armed. Fingers tightened on triggers as Jose smashed in the door.

Leading his two best men Leroy stormed through, their guns blazing on full auto. Plaster, wood chips and bedding fragments flew as they sprayed the room with lead, but again there was nothing.

"Boss I think we hit the wrong building." Knowing that the boss would be pissed didn't help, but hey the snitch would be the one who would be toasted. Then Leroy looked round and saw the fuel can, and the flashing panel that read 0.01.

The incendiary exploded and a torrent of burning gas spewed through the room.

Bakull had been about to angrily demand what the fuck his employee meant when a torrent of black smoke suddenly poured out of the disused stores door. It was followed by two moving fireballs, which staggered, into the middle of the street before collapsing to the ground.

"Wrong building, my ass," the Turk shook his head, he had guessed that Browne wouldn't die easy, but this. He picked up his cellular phone. "Teams two, three, four and six deploy. They are in that block somewhere, kill them at all costs."

Transit vans drove out of side streets, gunmen got out and deployed. Bakull was in no hurry though he had bought half an hours cop free time, and Browne would have to make a move soon. His cover was burning.

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Crashing up into the end store Harry grabbed one of the two thick blankets that were laid there as sun protection for the short dash to the car. Quickly he put one on over his head, James was clattering along their escape route behind him. "Come on mate, 'urry up, they'll be after us again......"

Somehow the glass had stayed in this shops front, a man was looking through it at Harry, he was also aiming a gun and smiling.

The burst of automatic weapon fire tore Greenaway open from the groin to the throat he slammed into the floor blood spouting from his wounds despite his lack of proper circulation.

"I have them," the gunman hastily swapped mags and joined by a colleague kicked in the remaining glass and stepped through the frame.

"Thirty thousand dollars American and el jefe's eternal gratitude." The lucky gunman was beaming as he advanced on the stricken vamp. "Raoul you may have the other one....."

The gunmen were backlit, the subterranean vampire wasn't, Browne's PPK cracked twice, two neat headshots saw them both dead on the dirt encrusted floor.

"Arry, 'ow are you mate.......oh fuck me no." Brown grabbed his friend up. "I'll carry you to the car old son, come on I'll wrap you in both blankets, a few burns won't make no odds to me, I'm ugly as it is."

Blue eyes met yellow, though blood bubbled up as he spoke Harry Greenaway's words were clear. "You'd never make it, I'm shot to fuck, finish it."

"What the fuck you on about...." Browne could feel wetness on his cheeks he knew that it was blood, his own. "Course I can get you out, then I'll get you some good nosh.....a couple a dozen folk inside you an you'll be right as rain......now come on."

"Do you think I want to see you die." Somehow Harry managed to raise an arm to grip his friend around the neck. "Finish me, you won't get out of 'ere alive carrying my weight, damn you FINISH IT!"

"I CAN'T!"

"Jamie if you love me like I love you, you'd strike." The blue eyes closed. "For pity's sake, finish it."

Without thought, on impulse Brown kissed his friend, his partner, his comrade of fights and hunts too numerous to remember upon the forehead and then drew a stake. "I swear to you I'll kill them all, every last one of them. I....love you."

And the stake came down.

Blood roared through Browne's head, he turned towards the door and picked up the fully loaded weapons of his dead adversaries. He could end it here, he had two Uzi's and plentiful enemies in the street, all he had to do was step outside and before he burned away he could kill a dozen, but not Bakull and not Lord Charles fuckin' Beresford.

Raoul was wearing a head mike, Browne picked it up and put it on. "We have them, crippled, send transport to the end store."

He wasn't vamp of a hundred voices, but when he heard tires screeching he smiled as he realized he was in luck. How in cautious they'd be though was another matter.

The van stopped by the window then did a sharp turn across the street, reversed back and mounted the sidewalk. Then the rear doors flew open framing five men, all of whose jaws dropped wide with shock even as they tried to bring weapons up to target in time.

Uzi's are not the most accurate of weapons, they tend to spray, and on full automatic the barrel rises as the firing goes on taking them off target after the first three rounds. A pissed off vampire is a strong vampire however, 60 rounds tore Browne's targets apart.

With a scream he was over them and into the van. The Khyber knife flashing at the throats of the driver and co driver as they tried to turn on him with pistols. He hauled the dead back from the door, they had guns and ammunition on them that he would need. Then he threw the drive side door open and driver out and despite burned hands got the door reclosed and himself behind the wheel. The van had sun proofed reinforced glass in the windows so Browne was safe to drive it.

Another van turned the corner and began to hurtle towards him. Browne put the pedal to the metal and sped away. The vans interior reeked of blood, it suited his mood to a tee.

"I'll get 'em for you 'Arry I'll get 'em all."
*****************************************************

"Team three is down sir, repeat team three is down. Targets are escaping, team six is in pursuit, over."

"There are just two of them, how the fuck can you be letting this happen, get after them...." Bakull was about to throw the phone across his car when the screen separating him from his driver wound down.

"Marcus is on the other line sir," Mahmud the Turks oldest minion had a broad grin on his face. "Team fire reports we have the Slayer."

"At last Allah smiles upon me." Bakull brought the phone back to his ear. "Team six break off pursuit. Everybody back to main base, over and out."

"Do we hand the girl over to the English?" Mahmud was puzzled at why his master should break off in mid fight, but it was not his place to question. "Shall I ring and arrange a meeting?"

"No, have her taken to my private hanger at the LAX," Bakull looked at the burning building and at the smouldering bodies in the street. "It's been an expensive day, and possession is nine tenths of the law. Time we find out how much our English friend is really ready to pay for his prize."

"Drive on........"

The window wound back up and the car set off, Bakull lit up a cigarette and sat back. "A million for a Slayer, how stupid does he think I am?"