There was a faint scent of faded perfumes in the air; their delicate musky scent tickled his senses and slowly pulled him from the depths of unconsciousness.

Riley shifted and rolled onto his stomach. The cool rumpled silk sheets felt good against his stubbled cheek. He stretched out on the soft bed where he was ensconced. Slowly he became aware of his surroundings and the events of the last night flooded back. With a crisp certainty, Riley realised he was screwed.

The lanky solider’s eyes slitted open and he cautiously examined his luxurious surroundings. This army training came to the fore as he quickly clocked his environs. His analytical mind processed the exact layout of the room and the possible sources of escape, and also possible weapons.

The room was lit by flickering candles and decorated with theatrical flourishes of High Gothick. The fabrics used were velvet brocades of the darkest purples and the sheets on which he was stretched out upon were a pale dusky rose and rumpled.

The bed was a massive masterpiece of mahogany and gilded wood. At each corner was a heavily carved post that twisted up into the air. About the bed was a massive giltwood antique mirror- the glass was worn and eroded in places and reflected Riley's sprawled form back down at him.

The walls were ancient stone and were unplastered - hung here and there with tapestries depicting erotic scenes that would have made the most seasoned of Madame's blush. Riley squinted at the mullioned window that was set in a recess at the far room. He could see through the think gauzy curtains that fluttered in the faint breeze, his tired eyes could make out the bright Californian sun and blue skies. A gust of wind made the curtains billow and he could see the terracotta roofs that were so familiar to him - he was still in Sunnydale.

Riley froze when he heard a faint feminine giggle. To the casual listener, the sound may have sounded light and sweet. But it filled Riley with a sense of dread- his skin tightened into goosebumps and the hair on the back of his neck stood up on end. Riley gave up any pretence of sleep and rolled onto his back. He edged up the massive bed and leant against the headboard then openly scanned the room again. It was empty, or so he thought.

A trickle of sweat ran down his back at the faint scratching sound Riley heard; he couldn't tell where it was coming from. The sound reminded him of nails being dragged down a blackboard and he gritted his teeth and tried not to twitch at the sound of another muted giggle.

The atmosphere in the ornately decorated room began to grow oppressive and Riley cautiously slid to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over the side.

As his bare feet made contact with the stone flagged floor, Riley winced at the cold that seeped up his legs and his toes curled. His head shot up as he heard the whispers again. He tried not to shiver but there was a menace in their tone, now, that was overt and filled his already frazzled nerves with terror.

"Someone there? Show yourself!" he called out, the timber of his voice belying his absolute terror. Riley's hand shot to the small of his back, and came away empty. 'Shit, no stake,' he thought anxiously. The tall soldier scanned the room again, trying to pinpoint the source of his tormentors and whoever incarcerated him in this velvet lined prison.

Riley stood slowly and winced as the bite on his inner thigh re-opened. Riley felt a trickle of blood seep out and for the first time he cringed at his absolute stupidity. 'What the hell was wrong with me?' The events of the previous night came flooding back and Riley mentally recoiled from his shameful behaviour.

If his Mom, Pops and the Reverend could see him now, they would've been so ashamed of him. Hell he was ashamed of his actions. But now was not the time for recriminations. Now was the time for GETTING THE HELL OUTTA HERE AND RUNNING FOR THE HILLS!

He needed to get back to Buffy. Riley winced mentally from the memory of his dry humping her last night in the cemetery- in front of Spike. Shame filled him yet again - he had been turned on by her changes and instead of supporting her, helping her through the difficult transformation that had been forced upon her, he had instead wanted to have his girl sink her fangs into him.

How far had he fallen into the abyss? The sensual carnality of vampiric bites and the rough sex that accompanied those exquisite nips had blinded him to the sordid reality of it all, as well as the danger. A torpured lust had made him uncaring towards the agonies that Buffy must have suffered through. Instead, his addiction had made him see her changed status as something he could benefit from. Buffy had moved from the elusive girlfriend that he knew so well, to a convenient set of fangs for him to get his next FIX from.

Riley hung his head in shame. "I don't deserve her anymore," he whispered dejectedly, wondering what had become of his life. He had been a rising officer with a good university career ahead of him and now…and now, he was a bite addicted fang hag. Even Riley couldn’t find it in himself to cast the blame on Buffy for his fall from grace; it was all his own doing. But he could track it back to another strong blonde role model, one who had dominated his life.

Maggie Walsh.

In a way, Riley was glad she had died at the hands/stake of her own hubris – if it hadn’t been for her insane and deluded actions he would never have lost his academic career, or his place in the army. Not only had she meddled with mystical forces beyond her comprehension – ones that she had no reason or right to do, Walsh had meddled with his body and mind, pumping him full of drugs and putting in a chip to control him – much like Spike’s.

All of which had nearly lead to him being another victim of FrankenForrest and Adam! Much like she had.

If it hadn’t been for Buffy and the others, he would have either died or become another mindless automaton of Adam’s. Riley still had nightmares over what Forrest had ended up as. And how did he repay Buffy? By going to vamp whorehouses, getting bitten, being fucked and sucked by both male and female vamps – as long as they bit him he hadn’t cared what else they had done to him. He had endangered them all – he now understood why Giles and the others had been so incensed at him – he wanted to go back and make it right!

Riley continued to list all the other ways he had let Buffy down. Faith and the body swap- that was still another huge black mark against him and even now he felt the shame of not recognising her. Buffy may have forgiven him, but he hadn’t forgiven himself. He couldn’t. ‘How could I not have known? Buffy had recognised Giles when he was a demon, but I couldn’t realise that I wasn’t sleeping with the girl I love?’ Riley filled with the familiar anger he had every time he dared to dwell on what had happened that fateful night.

But now he had managed to top all his mistakes with Buffy; he had been too busy getting bitten to go save her from Dracula. Instead, Spike had, a suspicion that had been confirmed by the vampire’s cocky and protective attitude in the cemetery, as well as him escorting Buffy everywhere. Riley had tried to pretend it wasn’t spying, just that he wanted to see how Buffy was doing, from a distance.

Riley had a grudging respect for the peroxide pest, for managing to save Buffy. Despite everything, Spike had proven he cared for Buffy. The demon – the vampire had walked into the proverbial lions den and snatched her from Dracula in an elegant way, one that Riley had to admire. Spike’s heroic actions had disproved everything Riley had been taught; ‘demons have no capacity for love’ – but his saving Buffy had showed the world otherwise.

His epiphany was a hard one to stomach, but in light of his own behaviour, Riley felt that Spike was deserving of the grudging respect he was feeling towards him. Spike cared for and saved Buffy, when on one else had been able to. When he hadn’t been able to bestir himself from a bite-induced stupor to save his girl…

The naïve mortal was no fool, he had seen the way Buffy and Spike interacted with each other, touched each other and even defended each other last night. They were a couple. Riley’s large hands fisted and he hung his head dejectedly. It was over; he and Buffy were no more…once the Iowan accepted this realisation, a sense of relief filled him. Their spluttering relationship was at an end.

He felt a wave of sorrow fill him for the loss of what they’d had, but at the same time realised she had never truly loved him like he had loved her. He was filled with a sense of saddened relief, ‘I guess I was the rebound guy…’. He loved her but now he could accept they weren’t meant to be – maybe they could be friends? He would fight beside her until Buffy didn’t want him too.

Riley raised his head, his chin set defiantly. He would get away and try to apologise to them all for his insane behaviour. If he could make amends in any way, he would! In a sense, the dark realisations the ex Initiative soldier was having had returned him to the man he had been before it had all gone wrong, before Walsh had gotten her claws into him and messed everything up.

He was a good man, a flawed one – but a good man and he was determined to do right by Buffy if he could…

Riley sank back down onto the bed and lay back with a sigh. For the first time in a long while he felt good about himself. Before he could move, a slender feminine hand curled over his shoulder and pulled him further back onto the bed with a throaty purr. Within seconds three extraordinarily beautiful scantily clad women surrounded him. Their hair was done up in elaborate styles and they were clothed in diaphanous silks and satins. Their hands and mouths were all over him; Riley struggled against their attentions but was quickly overpowered.

One of them crawled over his supine body and gazed deeply into his eyes. Before he could move or speak, her thrall overwhelmed him and Riley was lost.

*********

“Sorry about this, luv.” Spike lifted Buffy up into his arms and leapt over the pile of sludge that was blocking the sewer that they were travelling through.

“Having vamp senses suck!” Buffy fanned her hand in front of her nose.

Spike chuckled, “luv, you can stop breathing, you know?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and pouted at her pest of a Sire. Spike caught the pouty lip with his and gave it a good suck. He dropped her onto her feet and patted her on the backside.

“Come on, Watcher wanted us to have a snoop around that warehouse where we found the Dagon Sphere.”

Buffy sighed and nodded. After their meeting with the security guard they had headed over to Giles’s, and after the initial flurry of inviting Buffy in, the sleepy Watcher had ploughed through his books and located the name of the orb. He had looked up at the two vampires with concern and then filled them in on the history of the orbs and their uses.

“So, you think that Doggie thingie was put there cos the latest Bad is in town? It is the right time of the year for it?” Buffy daintily stepped over pile muck and tiptoed around a rat. “Man, I can’t believe how rank it is down here. I’ll never get used to it!” She shuddered.

“Watcher did say it was an old thing going back centuries, said it warded off an ancient primordial evil.” Spike ignored the daintiness of his irrepressible Childe, more concerned about whatever was headed their way.

“Which is not of the good if it’s here on the Hellmouth,” Buffy interrupted. She kicked the floor with her boot.

“I know, pet. But lets have a gander around before we start battening down the hatches. No freaking until we have to.” Spike ran a soothing hand over his Childe’s rigid shoulder.

“Yeah right, cos Giles wasn’t freaked either! Repel that which cannot be named, usually an object of deep worship or great fear,” she mimicked Giles using a really lame British accent.

“Okay now, that really was too Dick Van Dyck for me!” Spike laughed and then paused at a rusty ladder.

“Dick whatsie?” Buffy asked looking utterly perplexed.

“Y’know, the git from Mary Poppins with the crap Brit accent? Oh, buggering hell! It doesn’t matter, we’re here!” Spike pointed up at the manhole cover at the top of the ladder.

“Okay, but why do I think you’re making fun of me?” Buffy eyed him suspiciously and then began to climb the ladder, closely followed by a chortling Spike.

*********

“Why is it always crumbly warehouses?” Buffy stepped through the gaping hole in the wall and eyed the twisted remains of the tempered steel door. Spike flanked her and stared at the wreckage with concern.

“This doesn’t bode well…” Spike stepped in front of his Childe protectively and scanned the massive room, searching for the cause of the destruction. Instead he spotted a bruised, brown robed man tied to a chair.

“Whoa!” Buffy pushed past Spike and ran to the man. “It was you who planted the Dagon Sphere, right? I got it, don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look.”

Glory stepped up behind Buffy, unaware that Spike had sauntered up behind her.

“I have had experience with stuff like this before. Best of all... we’re not stupid!” Buffy turned and grabbed Glory by the throat.

“You sure about that last part?” Glory gave Buffy a withering look, and wrenched Buffy's arm from her neck. She backhanded the Slayer with such force that Buffy flew fifty feet across the room and impacted against the cement wall so hard it cracked.

Buffy fell to the floor and looked up at Glory, stunned at her power.

Spike growled and wrapped his arms around the small curly haired woman, who was dressed in red and teetered on high heels. Glory batted him away, much like a cat playing with a mouse. “Really, the two of you mortals, trying to touch me! The impertinence!”

Glory stalked over to Buffy and pulled her up and threw her against a pillar.

“And another thing? I just want you to know... The whole "beat ya to death" thing I'm doing? It's valuable time out of life that I'm never gonna get back.” Buffy tried to fight back but Glory grabbed both her arms and wrenched them downward. Buffy screamed out in pain.

“Wait, I've always wanted to try this. You know that thing with worms. Where if you have one, you rip it in half, you got two worms? Do you think that'll work with you?” Glory sneered at the struggling girl and held her easily, not even breaking a sweat.

Spike rolled to his feet and started towards Buffy, but before he could help, Glory lashed out with her leg and kicked him across the room to land near the bound monk. Spike tried not to whimper but failed, it felt like his ribs had been pulped with that one kick.

Buffy slammed her head into Glory's face and broke free. She tried not to vamp out and show her stronger opponent that there were easy ways to kill her, a well-placed stake, her head being ripped off or her heart being ripped out. Cos she knew that this strong woman would be able to do those without breaking a nail.

“You hit me! What, are you crazy?”

Buffy pressed her attack, hitting and kicking for all she was worth, forcing Glory backwards and away from Spike and the monk, but her blows seemed more to offend Glory than injure her. Buffy could hear Spike whimper and roll to his knees. She needed to buy him some time to free the man, so Buffy intensified her blows. Not talking, trying to save all her energy to keep the mad woman away from her Sire.

“You can't go around hitting people. What, were you born in a barn? Fine. Be that way.”

She easily blocked Buffy's next blow and swung her around hard into the wall. She tried to aim a punch at Buffy’s face, but the turned slayer managed to find the energy to duck at the last instant and Glory's fist punched through the concrete. Glory picked Buffy up by the throat and held her there.

“Hey! I just noticed something. You have super powers. That is so cool. Can you fly?”

She hurled Buffy clear across the room where she landed next to Spike and the now freed but dying monk.

“Think we can freak now?” Buffy commented wryly as she got to her feet and pulled Spike up with her, both of them bruised and bloodied but ready to fight if they had to.

But as one, they both realised that their priority was the monk. Spike reached down and pulled the battered man to his feet.

“Hey! Hands off my holy man!” Glory yelled at Spike.

Buffy rammed into the two men and ran toward the massive window behind them, it was their only way of escape! Spike looked in anguish at Buffy as they crashed through the window, the monk cradled between them and out into the blazing sun.

Glory charged after them, but she was too late. The three of them were out of her reach, for now. She stumbled to a halt when the heel on her shoe broke off. Taking off the shoe the Goddess glowered at it in frustration. The irate woman threw it across the room and stomped her bare foot hard against the concrete floor, and it cracked under the impact.

There was an ominous creaking sound and Glory looked up as the ceiling collapsed, “oh shit!”

***********

Glass shards showered the three figures as they hurtled out of the window and into the unforgiving sun. Cutting into their skin, Buffy and Spike curled around the injured monk and shielded him as best they could. Spike’s nostrils flared as the smell of his Slayer’s blood filled his senses, despite the desperate situation his mouth watered.

As they fell, Spike’s life and unlife flashed before his eyes and realisation dawned on him- it was only when he had met Buffy that he really began to live. She was his everything. Not Dru as he had thought for so many years. Buffy was and now they were going to die before he could tell her…

They fell, the ground rushing up towards them.

Her skin began to tighten and prickle – it felt like serious sunburn. Buffy glanced over the Monk’s head and stared in terror at Spike.

His face was beginning to smoulder; she knew that her skin was doing the same thing.

All her life she had lived in California, the sun was a constant in her youth. Days spent on the beach getting the perfect tan, worrying over white lines and basting herself in factor zero to be the brownest she could be. All that time she had never considered the dangers of the sun; yeah, she had worried over skin cancer. But now, she was literally burning up. The pain began to deepen and she screamed in agony.

Never had she thought the sun would be her enemy.

“Buffy, luv…m’sorry…” Spike whispered. Sadness permeated his expressive blue eyes. He knew that this was it for them. There were no magic windows for them to hide behind and still enjoy the golden light.

They were going to burn up and fade away.

“No! I won’t let this happen,” she growled and vamped out. Seconds before they hit the ground, the three entwined figures disappeared in a puff of smoke.

**********

“Girls, bring him, he is needed.” Dracula’s cultured voice filled the room. The three Brides looked up from Riley and pouted, their lips were smeared with his blood. Riley lay unconscious under them, his naked form littered with bites and bruises from where he had struggled against them.

“But Master, we want to keep him, his blood is delicious!” The tallest of the women reached down and petted Riley’s limp cock, and then dug her talons into it, nearly tearing it off.

Blood spurted onto her hand.

The two other Brides leant down and lapped at Riley’s flaccid and torn member, their throaty purrs filling the room.

Dracula eyed the still form of the tall man with a blank expression, he was used to his women playing with their food and this was nothing new for him.

“The mad one has need of it! Bring him!” He ordered as he turned and left the room.

The three vampires frowned and growled, but as usual they obeyed their Master and Sire.

Eventually, they rose and two of them dragged Riley’s naked and abused form along with them.

*********

“They took it away from me! He was mine…the nasty worms took him away from me! It hurts…I hate, hate, hate, hate them all!” Glory rolled on the bed, clutching and pulling at her hair. She kicked her heels against the mattress and wailed angrily.

“They all smell like meat sacks, the stink of them covers this whole sorry world! I want them all dead…ground to dust under my heels.” Glory rolled onto her knees and panted, sweat pouring down her face as her mind weakened.

“All of you out!” She roared at her simpering minions.

“You scabby, miserable, stinking vermin. I need to be alone!” On her command, all her followers scurried out of her suite, bowing and scraping as they ran and shut the door behind them.

Glory slumped onto the bed with a moan. She closed her eyes. “Come back,” she whispered pathetically. “I need…”

“This is what you need, Glorificus.” Dracula pushed open the door and gestured for his Brides to drag in Riley.

“Oh yes, yes, yes! Bring him here to me!” Glory crawled to the edge of her bed. Oh goodie! He’s a big one!” She eyed the comatose man and frowned at the bites that littered his body.

“Ewww! I can’t believe you’d bring me your blood cow! Is this how little any of you respect me?” Glory glared at Dracula. “I really loathe this pathetic dimension!”

“It is all we have for you, at this time. My supreme apologies, Goddess.” Dracula bowed and gestured for his women to leave Riley. The four vampires retreated and left the room.

Glory slapped Riley on the head and curled her fingers into his hair and pulled his head up.

“All asleep, no fair. I like it better when they’re awake and begging for their lives… makes them tastier, the fear and panic is just dreamy.” With that she plunged her fingers into Riley’s skull with a relieved sigh. “Ahhhh… much better!”

A silver light poured out of Riley’s nose, mouth and ears as Glory drained him, it spluttered and faltered.

“No! Not now…” Glory shrieked and her form flickered and then shifted.

In her place a very confused man stood, dressed in her red dress. “What the hell?”

Ben pulled away from Riley and stared in horror at the slumped man. “Oh my god, what have I done?” Ben reached down and pulled Riley up onto the bed. He patted Riley on the cheek, “hey, are you in there?”

Ben strode to the cupboard. As he walked he tore off the dress and threw it onto the couch. Flipping through the clothes he located some of his own and quickly dressed. Turning back to Riley’s limp body, “come on, I’ve got to get you to a hospital…”