Buffy stared down at the bidding card she held in her hand. She glanced over at her husband briefly, wondering what he would think of what she wanted to do. Riley was already ignoring her again, his eyes focused on the podium where the auctioneer was welcoming everyone to the event.

She wondered if she should say something to him beforehand, or just go ahead and make her bid when the time came. But then, when she thought of attempting to explain to him her reasons for wanting to purchase the vampire with whom each of them had a not-so-pleasant history, she could not imagine what she would say. She barely understood her reasons herself.

Maybe she shouldn’t; she faltered for a moment, wondering if she was just being foolish and sentimental and nostalgic. *Yeah,* she thought, sarcastic even in her mind. *The sweet, fluffy nostalgia is going to last all of ten minutes until he starts oh so nostalgically driving you insane! Yep. Just like old times!*

She glanced down again at the lot where Spike stood, looking for the number. When she found it, she almost laughed out loud. The irony was just too much. Spike was chained and waiting to be sold on lot number seventeen.

Once again she glanced at her husband to see if he had noticed her reaction, wondering as she did why she was getting so nervous. But, she saw quickly with mingled relief and disappointment, Riley was not paying the slightest bit of attention to her.

As usual.

Suddenly, she didn’t even care what he thought of her decision. Wasn’t he always pushing her to buy some household servants of her own? True, it was probably only to appease his own conscience for his own indiscretions he had committed with servants he had purchased at events such as this, but still – he really shouldn’t mind. She was just doing what he wanted her to. Right?

She was not even aware as the auctioneer made his way through the slaves up for sale before Spike; throughout the whole proceeding her eyes were focused on him. She noticed that he maintained his usual arrogant stance, never mind the fact that he was chained and being sold like an animal.

That was a fact that still bothered her, no matter how hard she tried to reconcile it with her own world view.

*He’s not a person, Buffy,* she reminded herself. *Not a person. No soul. Not even alive.* If she was going to do this, it would not do to become *too* sympathetic towards her new slave. That was all she needed to create more trouble in her relationship with Riley, who consistently and vehemently argued that all demon species were nothing more than animals.

Her rambling thoughts were cut short when she heard the auctioneer call out lot number fifteen, and her stomach did a funny little flip inside her. Why was she so nervous about this, she wondered again. It wasn’t as if anyone would think anything of her, the wife of Riley Finn who had *started* the whole industry, purchasing a slave. Even Riley wanted her to.

So it was settled. She was going to do it.

The auctioneer started the bidding on number sixteen, another male vampire.

*No!* she thought suddenly. *Bad idea, Buffy. Not gonna do it.*

She glanced again at her husband and saw that he was not paying attention, talking to the man sitting next to him. But then, he never did pay much attention when it was a *male* slave up for sale.

*I’m gonna do it,* she thought suddenly, boldly. Not that she had any intention of doing with Spike what she was certain Riley did with his slaves, she assured herself hurriedly. But it wouldn’t hurt to make him wonder – and maybe, maybe it would make him pay attention to her again.

When she heard the auctioneer call out lot number seventeen, she could feel her heart rate accelerate.

“Lot number seventeen is a male of the vampire species,” he began, launching into his description of the merchandise. When he finished he said, “We’ll open the bidding at $1,000. Who’ll bid $1,000?”

No one even moved. Buffy herself froze, her hand refusing to move to make the bid she had decided that she would make.

Buffy could see even from her seat that the man standing beside Spike was trembling with embarrassment and rage, though he would not do something as…well, tacky…as harming him while they were on display in front of the entire auction…she hoped.

Her heart was racing, as she struggled with her indecision. She cringed at the thought of Riley’s reaction when he saw her bid on Spike, but for some reason, she hated the idea of Spike going back with the cruel master he currently had, who would certainly punish him for not being sold.

Just when she was about to raise her bidding card, regardless of Riley and his opinion, across the aisle from her someone else raised their bidding card. As the auctioneer acknowledged the opening bid, Buffy peered around Riley to see who it was.

Her mouth fell open in indignant surprise when she saw that it was the very same girl that Spike had threatened earlier – well, at least she had thought he was threatening her. Now, suddenly, she wasn’t so sure. The girl had a sly smile on her face, and her eyes were gleaming with anticipation.

That little slut’s not getting her hands on my vampire! Buffy determined suddenly, too irritated by the girl’s blatant desire for Spike to even realize that she had called him “hers”, even if only in her mind.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Buffy raised her bidding card on $2,000.

As the auctioneer pointed in her direction and called out, “$3,000? Someone bid $3,000?” Riley turned his head slowly to look at her, a curious smile breaking out on his face. “See something you like, honey?” he asked her, glancing down to the platform to see what it was she was bidding on.

Buffy held her breath and waited for the explosion. Riley had always despised Spike, who was quite literally to him “the one that got away”. And after the whole Adam fiasco, Riley had wanted to hunt down the blonde vampire and stake him as slowly as possible for his part in it. Buffy was fairly certain that he was not going to like this idea at all.

The other girl had bid $3,000 when the auctioneer spoke, and Buffy quickly responded by bidding $4,000, keeping her eyes focused on the auctioneer as she braced herself for the inevitable.

But there was no explosion.

Of course not, she reminded herself bitings as she raised her card to bid $6,000. We’re in public. Gotta keep up our sparkling image!

But then, to her great surprise, Riley laughed.

She looked at him, confused, noticing out of the corner of her eye that the other girl across the aisle was glaring at her as she raised her card emphatically to bid $7,000.

What the heck did he SAY to her? she wondered as she met the challenge in the other girl’s eyes and lifted her card again, before returning her attention to her husband. “What’s funny?” she asked, feeling slightly apprehensive.

“This is great, Buffy,” he smirked as he replied in a quietly laughing voice. “Much better than staking him would have been.”

Understanding dawned on Buffy as she made a $10,000 bid. So Riley thought that she was doing this to get the chance to get back at Spike for his many offenses against her. Well, let him think that, she thought with a slight sense of relief. It makes more sense than my real reasons – which I’m still not clear on and I’m sure not gonna try to explain to Riley!

The girl across the aisle was sitting forward in her seat, glaring at Buffy as she decided to raise the stakes a little and called out as she raised her bidding card, “$20,000!”

Buffy was tiring of the bidding, and the ridiculous girl and her attitude. Not even acknowledging her, using a look and tone of practiced boredom, she raised her card and called out, “$50,000,” calmly, without even waiting for the auctioneer to acknowledge the previous bid of $20,000.

During the entire bidding, Spike had not looked her way once, but now his eyes snapped up to her at the sound of her voice. She realized that until she had spoken, he had not realized that it was her who was bidding on him.

He did not look pleased.

A low, excited murmur began to Buffy’s startlingly high bid on the vampire slave. She suppressed a laugh as she saw the girl across the aisle let out a growl of rage as she flounced backward into her seat, shooting Buffy occasional death glares. She had thought that she was making an impressive bid at $20,000, and could not possibly go higher than Buffy’s bid. And she seemed extremely upset about it.

Buffy really wondered what Spike had said to the girl.

The auctioneer finally recovered enough to say, “$50,000! $50,000 going once, going twice…sold to Mrs. Finn.”

Buffy felt a momentary thrill, as much at her victory over the other girl as at her actual purchase, and looked down to the platform. Spike was staring up at her, his eyes wide with shock, as his former master led him off the platform and back to the holding area where Buffy would go after the auction to claim her purchase.

She felt as surprised as he looked, wondering not for the first time just why she had done what she had just done.

She didn’t pay much attention as they rest of the slaves were auctioned off, and Riley purchased a couple new ones for himself – of course both attractive and female. Her mind was racing, wondering desperately if she had just made a terrible mistake.

As long as she had known him, Spike had never caused her anything but trouble. And now she owned him; he was in her service. He was going to go home with her tonight, and – and what? Service her?

No! she corrected urgently in her mind. Serve! Not service! No servicing!

If she knew one thing about Spike, it was that he was proud and arrogant and would not be the least bit submissive if he could possibly help it, unless he was absolutely forced to be; and he was also very intelligent and perceptive, and would latch onto any small sign of weakness she might show and use it to his advantage.

Okay, so that was more than one thing, but those things could work together to spell big trouble for her if she wasn’t careful.

Stupid Buffy, she chided herself. If you were lonely, you should have gotten a puppy or something – not an obnoxious, arrogant, evil vampire who wants you dead!

When the auction was completed, Riley stood and turned to Buffy with a smile. “Time to go pick up our new slaves,” he said. “I still can’t believe you did that.” He shook his head in amusement. “I can’t wait to see the look on Hostile 17’s face!”

Buffy could wait. She was suddenly terribly nervous, and she had no idea why. No reason to be nervous, she told herself. You are In-Control Buffy. He’s your slave for pete’s sake! He’s the one who should be nervous!


He was. Terribly nervous.

Spike’s former master, thinking of the scene he had created with the girl before the auction, and wanting to avoid any further embarrassment in front of Mr. and Mrs. Finn, and chained Spike’s wrists tightly behind his back, in addition to the chain still around his neck, a length of chain hanging from it for him to be led by when his new mistress arrived.

The Slayer had bought him.

He sat on the small wooden bench next to the man who had sold him, his mind racing and his stomach churning as he tried to think of some reason, any reason, that the Slayer might want to buy him, besides the only one he could think of.

It was revenge. It had to be. For all the times he had tried to kill her and her friends, for the species war he had almost caused with that Frankenstein-type bloke, Adam. She had every reason in the world to want to hurt him.

And now, she had the power to do so as well.

There was no way to escape this time, he realized as he tested his strength against the unyielding iron that bound him. In a few minutes, she would be there for him, and he would be utterly helpless against whatever it was she intended to do to him. And judging by the pleasure she had taken earlier in his humiliation, it was not going to be pleasant.

He froze when he heard her familiar voice in the distance, and looked up to see her approaching, still a ways off – with her husband.

Spike swallowed back the uneasy, sick feeling that rose in him at the sight of the former Initiative member.

Oh, this is just bloody perfect! Not only have I got to deal with a mightily pissed off Slayer, but her soddin’ husband’s got it in for me too!

The man sitting beside him realized that Buffy and Riley were approaching, and jumped up, pulling Spike to his feet as well by the short chain attached to his neck.

“Here they come,” he said in a tone of anticipation, as if he were about to meet some famous celebrity or something.

It’s just Buffy, Spike thought, still thinking that the Slayer’s new status seemed odd, and not quite fitting to what he knew of her.

“Be sure and act respectful, slave,” the man muttered, smiling as Buffy and Riley came close enough to see. “Finn’s a hard man on his slaves, and I bet his wife’s probably the same.”

“Worse,” Spike muttered under his breath, taking a deep breath in preparation for whatever was about to come.

“Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to, slave,” the man snapped.

Spike glanced up at him and was about to retort that what he did was no longer any of his bloody business, when Buffy and Riley reached them, and the man stepped forward to shake Riley’s hand.

Buffy was not really paying attention as they exchanged pleasantries. Her eyes had fallen on Spike, who was standing straight and still beside the man talking to Riley. His eyes were carefully averted, and though the expression on his face was calm, every muscle in his chest and arms appeared tensed, poised for flight or self-defense – neither of which was actually possible.

She realized suddenly with a start – he was scared. He was doing a pretty good job of covering it up, but he was actually scared! Of her?

The man had just accepted Riley’s check, and was saying something to her, so she nodded and smiled politely, as he placed the end of the chain around Spike’s neck in her hand.

She studied his face, brilliant blue eyes just slightly wider than usual, his full flawless lips pressed together in a firm line, obviously trying to conceal his rising apprehension.

Suddenly, it was very important to her to allay his fears. Wanting to get his attention without drawing Riley’s, she gave a light tug on the chain in her hand, and as she had hoped, he instinctively looked up into her eyes, without thinking about it.

She didn’t say a word, but something in her eyes made him think that maybe she didn’t want to hurt him, after all. He searched her eyes, and hesitantly opened his mouth to speak. Neither of them noticed as Riley said goodbye to her former owner and turned back to face them.

“Slayer,” Spike began, his voice quiet and uncertain, and she could tell that he wanted to ask her something. “Buffy…”

Before he could voice whatever question had been about to form on his lips, Riley struck out without warning with a hard fist across his face. He stumbled just a step or two back, stopped with a jerk by the chain in Buffy’s hand, as Riley gave him a hard, cruel smile.

“Two things you are not to call her again, slave,” he said emphasizing the word pointedly. “She is your mistress, and you will refer to her as such. Is that clear?”

Spike paused, taking a breath before answering, and glanced at Buffy. She was stunned by Riley’s unnecessary violence, and suddenly realized, too late, that he was looking to her to see if she would refute Riley’s order.

Spike had seen in her eyes that she did not intend to hurt him – which had left him with the question of just what she did want. He had thought that perhaps he would actually be able to talk to her – but then her super soldier had butted in with his brutal right hook. He desperately wanted to haul off and hit him back, knowing that although Riley was strong, he was stronger, but the chip in his head prevented it.

He looked to Buffy. She was the one who had bought him, and she did not seem happy with the way Riley was treating him. Maybe she would say something.

When she didn’t say a word, he responded in a quiet, controlled voice, “Yes, Sir.” He was proud, but he was not stupid, and he had spent enough time around the Slayer’s pet soldier to know that he had a mean temper. And he was in no position to fight back.

Buffy felt an immediate uncomfortable feeling of guilt. It seemed wrong for Spike to not be allowed to call her by her name. She somehow felt that they knew each other too well for that, despite the fact that it had always been as bitter enemies. She knew that she should say something, but was reluctant to place any further strain on her relationship with Riley.

“Riley – honey,” she began cautiously, her tone one of gentle warning.

Spike looked up sharply at the Slayer’s face; that was a tone he had never heard her use before – soft, meek, and almost pleading. The Slayer he remembered would have ordered Riley to back off it that was what she wanted him to do. He was shocked by the dramatic change in her personality.

And he didn’t like it.

Another harsh blow drove the thought from his head, as Riley’s fist connected a second time. “And you keep your eyes down, too,” he demanded angrily. “She’s a very important, very powerful woman, and you are beneath her! Don’t forget that!”

“*Riley!*” Buffy broke in finally, aghast at the unusually harsh treatment he was meting out. She could see in his eyes that Riley’s own anger over the events of the past had not abated much over the years, and he was taking the opportunity to release it.

On a creature utterly incapable of fighting back.

“Riley,” she repeated firmly, a soft but strong hand on his arm pulling him back a bit. “That’s enough.”

Riley looked annoyed as he shook her hand off and turned to face her. “Buffy, you don’t have any idea what ‘enough’ is. You’ve never trained a slave. He needs to know who’s in charge around here.”

Buffy looked back at Spike, who was standing in silence, his head down in a silent gesture of submission – so unlike him.

She hated it.

“I think he already does,” she pointed out, her voice calm, but steady and firm as she met her husband’s eyes.

Riley gave her a disgusted, angry look that hurt her worse than his words. It was in moments like this that he unwittingly revealed how little he really thought of her. “Whatever, Buffy. Do it your way. But you don’t know the first thing about handling slaves,” he said as he turned to lead the way back to the car. He stopped and turned suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at Spike as he addressed his wife, “But if that thing gets out of control – I will handle it. I won’t have a disrespectful slave in my house!”

And with that warning he turned and stalked away.

His house? Spike thought, his head down but a single eyebrow raised in question at the offensive wording; he knew Buffy was still looking at him.

She could not remember the last time she had felt so embarrassed. Riley had yelled at her, put her down – in front of Spike, treating her like a stupid child. She ignored Spike’s unspoken comment, and turned away, wanting to cry.

It doesn’t matter, she told herself firmly. It’s just Spike. I don’t care what he thinks of me, so it doesn’t matter.

But her husband’s harsh words and actions did matter to her, regardless of who saw or didn’t see them, and she was deeply troubled by them both. Somehow, seeing Spike seemed to have brought out an anger in Riley that she had not expected.

As she led her slave in silence to the car, she wondered again if she had just made a terrible mistake.