A/N: This story starts out a lot darker than the previous stories in this series, and the next couple chapters contain some potentially disturbing scenes. *Please* note the warnings listed.

*****

Chapter 2: Bad Dog

Spike felt Dawn’s grip being dragged down his arm as vampires grabbed them both and pulled them apart. He reached out his hand, trying to hold onto hers as long as he could, while beating off the vamps with his legs and his free arm.

“Spike!” Dawn kicked at her attackers as her hand slipped from his.

Spike knew he was outnumbered. He could probably take down most of them – but even if only one was left, that was all it would take to kill Dawn.

He stopped fighting. “Look, I’ll do whatever you want,” he pleaded. “Just don’t hurt the girl!” If they accepted his offer, they showed no indication of it. Spike’s vision started to blur as he was punched repeatedly in the face, and he doubled over with blows to his gut. Okay, bad idea, he thought, thrashing violently in a renewed attempt to escape the vampires holding him. Back to plan A. But by that time, it was too late, and the last thing he saw before the vamps descended on him was Dawn struggling to break free. He felt himself being dragged away, and then a kick in the head rendered him unconscious.

Dawn screamed and screamed as Spike disappeared into the crowd of vampires. The group surrounding her slowly dissipated as they broke off to follow the ones who had taken Spike.

When there were only two vampires left holding her by the arms, she took the opportunity to kick first one, then the other, in the crotch and sprinted as fast as she could back to the Magic Box.

When she burst in the door, Willow, Tara, and Xander looked up from the books they were flipping through, and Anya came around from behind the cash register.

“Dawnie?” Willow hurried to the battered girl. “What happened?”

The commotion brought Buffy and Giles out of the training room, and both came rushing to Dawn.

“They took Spike,” Dawn sobbed, collapsing in a heap on the floor. “There were so many…”

Buffy cradled her sister in her arms. “Shhh, it’s okay. Who took Spike?”

“Vampires,” Dawn said in between gasps. “Lots of them.”

“But they didn’t take you?” asked Giles.

Dawn shook her head. “They had me, but I broke free and ran away.”

Buffy led Dawn over to the table and sat her down. The Scoobies gathered around her, offering her comforting words and caresses, while Buffy moved to stand next to Giles. “We have to go after them.”

“Now, Buffy, let’s think about this,” said Giles. “Why would they take Spike and not Dawn? Why wouldn’t they kill her?”

“I don’t know, Giles! What difference does it make?”

“Maybe they wanted Spike for something,” Xander offered. “He probably owes somebody money.”

“What if it’s the next stage of the plan for whoever’s been summoning those demons?” Buffy glanced at the autopsy report still lying on the table. “We all know what they’re capable of.”

“Buffy, we don’t even know if Robert’s death was related to the demons, and we won’t know that until we’ve had a chance to review his work.” Giles pulled out a handkerchief and began polishing his glasses. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. What we do know is that any group that could overpower a master vampire could surely dispatch a teenage girl. Whoever it was, it appears they wanted Dawn to come back here and tell us.” He put his glasses back on. “Buffy, you must be careful. You may be doing exactly what they want you to do.”

Buffy turned and stared at him. “What are you saying? That I shouldn’t go after him?”

“This could very well be a trap meant to lure you to your death.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Buffy –”

“No!”

“Buff,” said Xander. “I have to say, I’m with Giles on this one. I mean, it’s Spike. Is he really worth risking your – ”

“He fought beside you all summer, and this is how you repay him?” She stared them down, first Giles, then Xander. As her gaze fell on the girls, they lowered their heads. “He’s a part of the team now, whether you like it or not.”

“Is he, Buff?” Xander replied. “I thought he was out of the picture.”

Buffy wavered for a moment. It was true; she’d retreated to the training room not twenty minutes ago just to avoid him. But in her heart, she knew it was much deeper than that. Images flashed across her vision – Spike, bruised and broken at Glory’s hand, gazing at her with wondering adoration when the kiss broke; his hands, gently cradling hers, bloodied from bursting out of her grave; his strong arms, wrapped around her as they collapsed on the cliff’s edge; the expression of undiluted pain as he kicked her out of his crypt after the love spell gone wrong. She felt a swell of emotion rise unbidden in her chest, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I have to. He’d do it for me.”

Buffy grabbed her jacket off the back of a chair. “I’m going to find out who took Spike. You all can sit here and decide whether you’re going to help me get him back.” With that, she stormed out of the magic shop to beat information out of some demons.

*****

When Spike regained consciousness, he was in a dark cave. He could feel the weight of manacles on his wrists and ankles, and a sharp tug provided the rattle of chains, confirming his shackles. His feet barely brushed the ground, putting all of his weight on his arms, which were spread out on either side of him. His shoulders ached from the strain, and he stretched his legs, trying fruitlessly to shift his weight to his feet.

He had been stripped of his shirt, and bruises were blossoming where he’d been kicked in the chest and stomach. He felt a trickle of thick liquid run down his cheek and surmised that one of his multiple head wounds was still bleeding.

A door was pushed aside somewhere in the dark on the other side of the cave, and a figure entered. Spike recognized her scent before he saw her face, and he heard his own words from so long ago echo in his head. I'm gonna do what I shoulda done in the first place: I'll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her until she likes me again. He’d never actually done it – torture was more Angelus’ style, whereas he’d always been the tender, doting lover. But she vacillated like the wind, nuzzling affectionately one minute and delighting in her victim’s agonized screams of pain the next. She could be childlike or deadly, amorous or enraged, docile or crazy as a loon. He groaned and pulled at his restraints.

“My darling boy is happy to see me,” Drusilla cooed as she emerged from the shadows, gliding toward him like a fallen angel. “He misses our dance, doesn’t he?” She came right up to him and stroked his cheek, then licked his blood off her fingers. “Mummy’s missed you, too.”

“Dru…” he murmured, trying to retain control over his body. He knew he didn’t love her anymore, but a hundred years of her by his side had created a Pavlovian reaction within him.

“Yes, he’s back, he is.” Dru gave him a wicked smile, running her hands down his bare chest. “He wants to dance with his dark princess,” she said in a singsong voice, swaying side to side.

Suddenly, she stopped and her eyes grew dark and hard. “No more of the Slayer,” she spat, her palm connecting sharply with his cheek. His head whipped to the side with the force of the blow.

“You reek of her, darling,” she said, in a softer, sadder voice again. “She’s all around you… hovering, haunting. But we’ll get rid of her.” She raked her fingernails down his chest, as if she could scrape the essence of Buffy off his skin. Spike gasped as her nails dug into him, leaving parallel trails of blood.

He wondered why she was even here at all, why she would bother to try again to reclaim him. He thought he had made things pretty bloody clear when he tied her to a post and offered to kill her for Buffy, but maybe being insane meant Dru could forgive something like that. Of course, now he was the one tied up, and that had him more than a little unnerved.

“What has she done to you?” Drusilla ran her bloody fingers through his hair, her dark eyes locked on his. “The stars whisper in my ear… telling me of all the awful things she does. She’s made you all… housebroken, like a little dog that’s no good to eat anymore.” She ran her tongue along his jawbone, licking blood off his cheek. “Where’s my naughty puppy? Where’s my Spike?”

“I’m not a puppy, Dru.”

She whimpered then, her face crumpling as she let out a series of mewling noises. Spike groaned. Bloody hell, he thought. He had to be the only prisoner ever to make his captor cry. “Oh, come on, Dru.”

Then, a slow, knowing smile crept onto her face, and she giggled. “Oh, you’re a bad dog. Grrrr!” She slid downward, unbuttoning his fly and releasing his aching cock – damn traitorous thing; he didn’t want to be turned on. A small moan escaped his lips as she bit down on his erection – with her blunt human teeth, thank Christ – and shook her head, growling like a dog with a bone.

His head jerked back against the wall as his entire body went taut. He couldn’t bear to watch, but he felt his length disappearing into her soft, wet mouth. He let out a guttural groan. “Fuck, pet. Oh… oh, fuck…” She knew just what to do, had been pleasuring him for so many years that she could make him come so hard his head would spin.

He bucked against his chains as her teeth scraped the base of his cock and the head nestled in her throat. She slid all the way back until her lips kissed the tip, let her tongue follow the ridge around to the underside, then took him in again down down down and – bloody fuck but it was so good – and her hand slipped into his jeans and palmed his balls, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He was thrusting into her face and – fuck, baby, oh yes pet, please, please more – and he’d forgotten what a girl could do when she didn’t need to breathe and now she – oh God oh God oh God – with her teeth and he was trying to resist – Buffy, Buffy, Buffy – but she was all around him. Her fingers were magic and her tongue was quicksilver and he was coming and coming – and then he was crying, sobbing, screaming “Buffy!” in a voice so painfully hoarse it hardly sounded like his own.

Then her dark raven eyes were boring into his, flaring with anger, specks of amber becoming solid as her brow crinkled into game face and she rewarded him with a punch that knocked his head back against the stone wall, causing him to slip out of consciousness again.

*****

Buffy entered Willy’s and was greeted with caution and suspicion from the demons gathered there. She didn’t blame them, after her last attempt at information gathering. If Spike hadn’t been there, she’d probably have beaten her way through every patron until she found out what she wanted to know. This time, she ignored them all and took a place at the bar, waiting with an innocent expression on her face.

Willy glanced at her a few times out of the corner of his eye, and she smiled sweetly at him. After he’d avoided her as long as he could, he approached. “I don’t know nothing,” he said, before she even opened her mouth.

“Well, I’m convinced. Guess I’ll go home.” Buffy stared at him, unmoving.

He withered a little under her gaze. “What d’you wanna know?”

“Spike –”

“Haven’t seen him.”

He answered too fast to be telling the truth. Buffy’s hand rested on the bar, and she closed it into a subtle but threatening fist.

“Okay, okay. He was in here earlier. By himself for a while. Talked to Clem and then he left. That’s all I got.” Willy held his hands up in a gesture of innocence.

“Who’s Clem?”

Willy pointed to a door at the end of the bar. “Back room. Lots of skin.”

Buffy frowned at the description, but headed into the back room. She saw four demons sitting around a card table playing poker. Kittens were gathered on the table, mewling and nudging each other, and whenever one wandered too close to the edge, one of the demons would pick it up by the scruff of the neck and plop it back in the center of the table.

Buffy targeted the demon with excess skin hanging in folds. “Clem?”

The demon nodded. “You’re the Slayer.”

“Buffy. Can we talk outside?”

Clem put his cards facedown on the table and slid them back to the dealer, and then followed Buffy out into the alley behind the bar.

“What are the kittens for?” Buffy asked.

“It’s… currency.”

“You play for kittens?”

Clem looked nervous. “Yeah…”

Buffy seemed about to respond but changed her mind. There were more pressing issues at hand. “You talked to Spike earlier today?”

“Yeah. He was in a pretty sour mood.”

“I’m guessing he’s probably in a worse mood now. He’s been kidnapped.”

Clem’s face wrinkled even more than it already was, his concern evident. “I told him! I tried to warn him…”

Buffy grasped his shoulders. “Warn him about what?”

“I – I dunno. I picked up a rumor – someone might be trying to kill him. He didn’t seem to think much of it –”

Buffy shook him. “Who was it, Clem? I need to know who!”

“I – I’m sorry, Buffy, I don’t know.” Clem looked frightened. “I just heard rumors, you know? Demons talk.”

Buffy stopped shaking him and sighed. “Okay.”

“Do you know who took him?”

“Vampires. A lot of them.”

“Sorry I can’t help you.”

Buffy nodded and turned to go. She paused and looked back. “One more thing. Have you heard anything about someone summoning demons? Using magic – talismans?”

Clem shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Hey, Buffy?”

She turned around again. Clem’s hand was extended. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you find Spike. He’s a friend.”

Buffy smiled a little and shook his hand. It was rare that she came across a polite demon. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you, too.”