Thank you to Sue for betaing!


Chapter 18: Incentives.


Angel watched the proceedings in the small interrogation room from the adjoining one, surrounded by the standard surveillance equipment that was currently switched off. This wasn’t being filmed, wasn’t really much point anyway considering Lindsey’s freakish ability to keep himself hidden. Somehow he had been hiding himself from all methods of surveillance, keeping concealed not only from the Senior Partners’ radar but also managing to remain unseen by modern surveillance equipment.

Angel had wanted to know how.

And now he did.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Wesley responded with a confident nod. It really was quite ingenious. Lindsey’s chest and arms were covered with tattoos—tattoos that Wes had now confirmed acted as a sort of protection spell.

“We remove the tattoos and he’ll be visible again. Not just to our surveillance but also to the Senior Partners.” Wesley frowned. He understood Angel’s anger and willingness to feed the ex-lawyer to the lions so to speak, but the former watcher believed that move to be hasty. It would be prudent of them to keep Lindsey in isolation and under lock and key. “Perhaps it would be wise for us to keep Lindsey here for a while. Contained of course, and closely guarded. But none the less, here.”

“Why?” Angel growled, his brow furrowing, eyes never tearing from the face of the man on the other side of the one-way glass.

~~~

Lindsey almost knew Angel better than the vampire himself did, and if his suspicions were correct the new CEO of Wolfram and Hart was most likely in the adjoining room, his eyes trained upon him. Standing up from the wooden chair he had been unceremoniously dumped on almost an hour ago he approached the mirror, knowing full well that the occupants on the other side could see him clearly whereas he could only see his reflection.

“Come on Angel!” he half-snarled, half-laughed at his mirrored self. “You going to leave me here to die of boredom?”

Lindsey lifted his hands up in the air in mock surrender. “I give in!”

~~~

A growl resonated throughout the small room as Lindsey’s jibing was heard through the speaker system connecting the two rooms. As far as he was concerned they should remove the tattoos immediately and leave him for the Senior Partners to discipline. But Wesley seemed to think differently.

“Why?” he asked again.

“Because we may be able to use him.” Wesley dropped a fat file that contained information about their hostage on the desk before Angel. “Lindsey knows more about Wolfram and Hart, has more information on the Senior Partners and their dealings—their plans—than we could obtain if we were here for the next year. We can use that information to our advantage.”

“He won’t agree to it,” Angel replied gruffly. Wesley’s point did make sense but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Then we’ll just have to convince him.”

Angel’s brow furrowed slightly as he watched Wesley reach for the telephone. A number was dialed and a short moment later he spoke.

“Ah yes, Harmony. Can we have Eve brought to the interrogation room please?”

~~~

Buffy reached the street that Spike’s apartment was on in record time, forward momentum stopping as her feet ground to a standstill. Her shoulders shook once, then twice with anxiety. This was it. If she was ever going to make a move, if she was going to attempt to make things right between them it had to be now.

All she had to do was work up the courage to walk those last few feet.

At this present time her feet were refusing to cooperate.

~~~

“She won’t come,” Spike muttered as he resumed pacing of the Spartan living room. “She won’t.”

The events of an hour ago were playing over and over in his mind. How had it come to this? Why had he allowed himself to kiss her? That wasn’t the plan. The plan had been to find out what she wanted, if Buffy was only after a bit of cold comfort or if she was in this for the long haul—and then act. She had made it pretty clear what she had on her mind, he should have just walked away.

“But no. You had to go and kiss her didn’t you, you stupid git.”

Stopping his pacing before he wore a trench in the carpet Spike made a beeline for the fridge, opening it and snatching a bag of blood from inside.

His canine elongated as his face shifted into its vampiric countenance, teeth sinking into the plastic and slurping a long deep pull of the chilled ambrosia into his mouth.

Mid way through devouring the liquid a knock sounded on the front door of his apartment, the sound echoing throughout the small living room.

“I’m comin’,” he muttered in complaint as he marched towards the door and threw it open.

And found nothing.

A frown crept across his brow moments before her scent filled his nostrils.

Buffy… She’d been here, not long ago.

The half drained bag of blood still clutched in his hand he stepped out of the apartment, eyes narrowing when he spotted her several feet away. Buffy was pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath. Spike caught several of the words—mistake, apology and punk being three of them, but not enough to make out all that she was saying. He was puzzled by her actions, his head tilting to the side as he examined her.

Buffy’s shoulders tensed as she stopped mid pace, eyes lifting towards Spike’s apartment door.

“Spike, hi! I was just… I mean to say that I was going to… but then there was…” The nonsensical half-completed sentences poured from her mouth as she closed the distance between them with a few quick strides.

Spike’s expression was one of amusement, scarred eyebrow arched as a hint of a smile curled at his lips. Seeing her in this state wasn’t a regular occurrence and knowing that he was the reason behind Buffy’s babbling wasn’t altogether a bad thing. Momentarily forgetting that he was mad at her he stepped forward, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ears. It was the touch that reminded him and he quickly withdrew his hand, his expression become blank.

“What are you doin’ ‘ere?” he grunted as he folded his arms over his chest.

Buffy’s confusion grew at his erratic actions. One moment he was tenderly brushing hair off her face and the next he was eyeing her off as if she were the enemy. She didn’t know what had been the catalyst for this change in him.

“I came to talk to you. There are some things that I wanted to tell you Spike. About--”

He didn’t even let her finish the sentence. “I’m busy.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped when he turned his back on her and proceeded to step inside his apartment, apparently moving to close the door in her face. She shot her hand out and forcefully pressed it against the door, sliding her foot between the wooden barrier and the frame.

“Spike! Wait a minute, I just want to--”

“I don’t care!” Spike barked back in response. “Not everythin’ is about what you want. What about what I want for a change?”

Buffy blinked in surprise at the venom in his voice. Pushing her way through the door that carried on to slam shut, she closed the distance between them.

“That’s why I’m here!” she retorted angrily.

“Really? Don’t look that way from where I’m standin’.”

“Well you’re not looking at it right!”

“Not lookin’ at it right?” Spike repeated his own incredulity apparent. “You see, now that’s your problem. People ‘ave to see things your way ‘cos Buffy is the one who’s always right.”

“What?” Buffy snapped.

“You ‘eard me Slayer.”

“Slayer?” The anger left Buffy’s sails as her voice lowered in volume. “Is that how it is now between us? Vampire and Slayer?”

Spike shrugged in response.

Buffy’s eyes flickered to his left hand that was holding his dinner. “Well come on then vampire. Get rid of the fast food and have yourself something fresh.”

Buffy tilted her head to the side and flipped her hair over her shoulder, exposing the creamy column of her neck that was unblemished save for a few small hickeys that had risen on her skin thanks to Spike’s none to gentle biting in the alley not an hour ago. “You’re a vampire, prove it.”

Now it was Spike’s time to blink in shock. “What?”

“Come on vampire. That’s what you are, a vampire. Creamy skin on show here, happy hour isn’t going to last forever.”

“Buf--” Spike began.

“No!” Buffy shouted. “Slayer, remember?”

Spike’s nostrils flared as his anger rose and fell like breath. One moment he wanted to attack, wanting to give her what she was asking and the other he just wanted to shake some sense into her.

She can’t be serious… his inner William fretted whilst his demon was salivating at the sight of the exposed flesh. She was practically begging for it. If he bit her, marked her, claimed her then she wouldn’t be able to run off back to England and that ponce of a boyfriend, The Immortal. The more he thought about it, the better biting her sounded.

Spike lunged towards her, his previous meal instantly forgotten, the bag of blood dropping to the floor as his fingers curled around her upper arms and pulled her flush against him. His features shifted in the sudden movement, his head lowering to her neck quicker than Buffy could have blinked, all the while Spike waited for the inevitable. Waited for her to recoil, to move back, to run like she always did. But she didn’t even flinch.

Spike’s hope began to soar.

“Buffy…” he murmured softly, his grasp on her arms relaxing as he slowly began to step away.

Buffy knew that he wouldn’t go through with it, knew that she was safe with him. Even if he had bitten her she wouldn’t have moved. She was here to prove to him just how much she cared about him, how much she wanted to be with him. Buffy trusted Spike, and whilst this little stunt was one that came purely from her own anger and annoyance it had served its purpose. She put her life in Spike’s hands. Hopefully he understood that she was trying to express just how much she trusted him.

She had anticipated his back peddling and compensated by moving forward, pressing herself more firmly against him. “Spike, do it. Bite me.”

“Buffy.” He only spoke her name but in that one word his pain was clear, Spike was almost begging for her to stop. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, not since…

Buffy looked up into his face and saw the moment his eyes glazed over, presumably due to old memories resurfacing. “Spike, no. What happened in the past is past. You won’t hurt me.”

Spike’s brow creased into a frown.

“I want this. I want to be yours.”

A hesitant smile began to curl at Spike’s lips at the conviction he heard in her voice. Buffy wanted to be his and he wanted nothing more than to be with her. For once it seemed like they were on the same page.

His happiness at her confession was dampened somewhat by his subconscious reminding him that whilst she may want to be his, she had a boyfriend. Nostrils flared as another wave of anger rolled over him, Spike again attempting to move away from Buffy only to find her arms wrap tightly around his waist in response.

“What about the wanker over in England?” he spat out, the very thought of the Immortal causing a bad taste in his mouth.

“Gone,” Buffy replied with a nod. “After we captured Dana I called Englan--”

“You captured Dana?” Spike blinked in surprise, his eyes narrowing when he realized she had said we and not I. “Who’s we?”

Buffy unsuccessfully fought to hide the smile in response to Spike’s jealousy. “Andrew and a few of the slayers. They arrived in LA a couple of hours before I left…” she trailed off, not wanting to remind him again of her leaving.

“Left me,” Spike finished off bitterly.

“I wrote a note!” Buffy responded adamantly. Her eyes floated towards the fridge spying the note that was still stuck there. “You just fed! How could you not see that? Twice!”

Spike whirled around to face the fridge, his expression becoming apologetic immediately. Untangling himself from Buffy’s embrace he strode over to the cool store and grabbed at the piece of folded paper, his eyes flickering over it.

Spike

Don’t think I’m running out on you again
because that’s not what’s happening. I came
to LA to do a job and as soon as Dana has
been taken care of I promise I’ll be back. I
want this. I want US.

Love Buffy
xox

Spike’s eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, suitably ashamed of his archetypal way of jumping to conclusions. “You could’ve waited,” he grumbled in way of apology.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Buffy agreed, nodding her head for further emphasis. “But I’m here now.”

Hesitating for a moment Spike slowly moved towards her, stopping when their faces were mere inches apart, the beginning of a smile curling at his lips. “And you want this?”

“Yes, I do,” Buffy replied adamantly.

“And it’s just us. No one else in the way?”

Knowing he was referring to her former she nodded vigorously. “Gone. Out of the picture. Kicked to the curb.”

The tentative smile on Spike’s face brightened when Buffy began struggling with her list. Point was the Immortal was gone. Dumped. She dumped the ponce, for him. The smile on his face doubled in wattage.

“Just us,” he stated, liking how it sounded out loud.

“Just us,” Buffy agreed, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

Spike’s eyes fluttered closed, his arms wrapping around Buffy as he pulled her firmly against him. Breaking the gentle kiss a few moments later he looked down at her with a quirked brow. “I’m still pissed off ‘bout your disappearin’ act,” he informed her.

Buffy mirrored his expression. “Ditto about your reappearance. Where was my phone call when you un-combusted?”

Spike opened his mouth to object but didn’t even manage to get a word out before Buffy’s lips were smashing against his in a much more demanding kiss than the one of moments before.

“No more arguing and less clothes would be of the good,” Buffy suggested when she tore her lips away, her cheeks flushed with desire.

“Agreed.”



~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hope you all liked! This story is coming to a close... not much left now!