Chapter 20: Lights, Camera…

The bespectacled vamp who had held the clipboard earlier neatly separated Buffy and Spike from their demon guards and ushered the pair towards the wings of the stage. Glancing around nervously, he sidled closer to Buffy, until stopped cold by Spike’s disapproving snarl. Just then the officious vamp from the backroom swept by and ordered the impertinent fledgling to take care of some paperwork back in his office.

Glad for even the modicum of privacy, Buffy trembled as she peeked around the stage curtains and past the flood lights at the crowded room. The hall where the auction was to take place was packed. There were a few tables up near the front where the VIPs sat sipping drinks she didn’t want to know the contents of, but everyone else was forced to stand cheek to jowl. There must be almost a thousand demons cramped into a small space meant only to hold a few hundred.

No wonder the Auctioneer had insisted that she show up in person. The large crowd would probably have torn down the building if they were denied their fun.

Buffy shuddered as she heard the little troll of a vamp announce them just as he had in her dream, and wondered if it was too late to back out now. Word had certainly gotten out about her presence, and the hall was packed. The vampires obviously regarded her as unusual merchandise- they all wanted to be there to see her humiliated.

She hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t really thought about the fact that they’d have an audience. She’d only thought in terms of the fact that it was an opportunity to be with Spike, without having to admit that she wanted it.

If Spike was right, few of the vampires or demons in the throng could possibly afford to buy her. Instead they must have come hoping to see a show. What she wanted to share with Spike was private – not something for the whole demon population to witness.

Spike was already in game face, and she remembered thinking in her dream that he had looked scared. He didn’t look scared, did he? What did HE have to be scared of? She was the one wearing the collar and being led by a leash. She was the one who would be on display, who would be sold to the highest bidder.

Starting to hyperventilate, she was grateful when Spike held her softly for a moment and nuzzled his nose into her hair, at the same time strengthening the light rapport he had on her mind. Once again initiating the thrall, he prayed that Buffy wouldn’t fight against him – that they could some how make it through the next few minutes, and save her fighting for when it could do them some good. For when she was fighting against Anton.

Leading Buffy by the leash, he narrowed her perception down to just the few feet around them so that she was blissfully unaware of the sensation she was causing as they made their way slowly out onto the stage.

The Auctioneer grinned and Spike grimaced as he noted the large monitors spread throughout the hall. The vamps really had gone high tech in a big way. Spike noted that there was even a booth set up where some enterprising demons were taking orders for a recording of the event. They were doing a brisk business. Spike shuddered, grateful that such modern things had not been around last time he had been forced to a similar event. He was grateful that his thrall prevented the Slayer from realizing she was being captured on film, and he resolved that the Slayer would never know that this episode had been immortalized on both VHS and DVD.

Spike picked up the emcee’s words, and repeated the command to Buffy. “Spin around for the nice people, pet. Let ‘em get a good look.”

Of course it would be the same weasely troll of a vamp they had met with in his office. Here, in front of the assembled masses, at least the little toad made sure to give Spike the respect he was due. He wondered if the slimy coward got a kickback from the video rights as well, or whether he owned the whole sordid thing outright.

“So glad that you could make it,” the Auctioneer smirked. Somehow he had known that Spike would try to bolt with his prize if given half a chance. If not for the additional guards he had sent, he and Buffy would probably be half way back to Sunnydale by now, not the hottest new show on the Strip.

The little weasel turned to address the audience. He had to wait for a long time until a hush finally fell over the gathering.

“Assembled,” he announced. “The final lot of the evening is ready for display. It is, as I am sure that you are aware, a highly unusual item. One of kind. With many and varied possible uses.

“Hardier than the usual human, with advanced healing and strength. Something that could last a long, long time if you take proper care of it. Something you could lord over your Dams and Sires if you were so inclined.

“The creature who is lucky enough to purchase this unique item, buys not only virtually limitless access to the most delicious ambrosia known to demon kind, but also the opportunity to enjoy or share her womanly attributes as well. Imagine the type of loyalty such a reward would inspire. Or, if world domination isn’t your thing, simply rent her out, and sit back while the money pours in. The uses for this particular item are limited only by your imagination. And I know you all have a lot of imagination.

“And let’s not forget the Slayer’s other attributes. Slayer’s blood, aside from being the greatest of delicacies, is a most potent elixir. Not only would just a sip of her blood cure almost any injury, but it is also fabled to be the strongest aphrodisiac known. Imagine having the exclusive right to every luscious ounce.”

The crowd roared its approval, but the emcee continued extolling more uses for the Slayer. “And for those of you who may have suffered the unbearable loss of an otherwise immortal companion, the possibilities for revenge are limitless. Just think of it, Gentles. With proper care and feeding, she could live another fifty years or more. Short of death, a Slayer will heal fully from whatever torture you can think to devise, giving you the unique opportunity to start all over again!” Spike thought he was going to be sick. The emcee was whipping the crowd into a high pitch. Now they not only wanted sex, they wanted blood as well.

“And don’t forget, during all the time that she is alive, no other Slayer will be called. Think of how strong you could become without having to worry about the Council or their tools. Before you decide how much you are willing to spend, think for a moment how very rare this opportunity really is, and how much power you could control if you had possession of this unique item!”

Spike had to admit, the little troll sure knew how to pitch a sale. There was now no one in the hall who wouldn’t kill a nest mate in order to get their hands on the Slayer. Every one of the crowd had to be interested in owning the Slayer for at least one of the reasons he enumerated.

Of course Spike had known that all the vampires present would want her for her blood, and sex. But he would have been happier if there had been no mention of torture. Of those assembled, there was almost no one but the lowest fledgling who couldn’t at least claim someone that they missed, lost to a Slayer’s power. It didn’t matter that it most probably hadn’t been Buffy. One Slayer was as bad as another as far as this lot was concerned.

Being bought as a blood and sex slave was the very best that Buffy could hope for now. It was a damned good thing that the thrall kept Buffy from really hearing or seeing anything that was going on around her.

The grandstanding emcee continued, “Now, before we open the floor for bidding, there are a few details of the sale that must be disclosed.

“First, her current master, William the Bloody, also known as Spike, has invoked the right of the prior owner to oversee the transfer. This stipulation of the sale is non-negotiable. It states that Spike will accompany the purchaser and his merchandise and personally witness the initial consummation of the deal.

“Second, while the merchandise will be demonstrated to be both bite and beddable, no guarantees are made or implied by the Auction House or by Master Spike that she will remain so. As Spike has told us, she is the SLAYER, people, and if you can’t control her, don’t come crying to us. There will be no refunds or remunerations made for dusted minions or other losses due to her purchase. You will be required to sign a waiver. Standard policies do not apply. So once you’ve bought her, folks, you better have a secure way to hold her.”

The diminutive vamp pursed his lips and turned to Spike, “Do you have anything to add before the bidding starts?”

Spike really didn’t like the way this was shaping up. The Auctioneer had gotten the crowd so riled up against Buffy, there wasn’t a one of them present who wouldn’t be glad to watch her die a slow and painful death, preferably after they’d raped her and passed her around to their friends. If only there was some way he could stop the auction – keep the others from bidding on her…

“Yes.” Spike called out. “What he said, only doubled. No warranty. I’ve only just fully broke her myself – I have no idea how she will take to being bartered. It’s too soon, the thrall isn’t strong enough, and I told the Auctioneer as much, but he wanted to proceed with the sale, regardless. He doesn’t care if she slips from the thrall and strangles you in your sleep, or dusts you before you can even get a good lick in, so long as he gets his cut. She is a SLAYER after all. Buyer Beware. I make no warranty as to her training whatsoever. I can only just barely contain her and she’s been with me for months. Some one else wants to take over – well, I can’t speak as to what would happen.”

Under the thrall, Buffy couldn’t make out what the others around her were doing. But she heard Spike’s little speech loud and clear. What was he trying to do, ruin the potential sale? Hadn’t they both agreed that this was necessary? It certainly wasn’t that she wanted to be sold, but if Anton didn’t buy her they were doubly screwed. First they’d have to figure out a way to get out of the enchantment on the contract, and then she still would have to find a way to rescue Tara.

Spike could hear her doubts through the bond, and without speaking he answered her unspoken question. ‘It’s alright, pet. They won’t let us out of the contract. There’s too much dosh at stake. Besides, now I know that coward Anton will buy you so he can show off how unafraid he is. Unafraid once he’s got you in chains, under thrall and surrounded by guards most likely. For all the good it will do the poxy bastard. We stick to the plan, everything will be fine.’ He could only hope that he had adequately masked his anxiety. His plans never worked. Why had he ever thought this would be a good idea was beyond him.

Some one in the crowd sniggered. “Yeah, right,” a disembodied voice called out. “We all heard how once you got into her pants you wanted to cancel the sale,” another voice shouted. “Yeah,” exclaimed a third, “heard you wanted to keep her all to yourself. Well, that’s not gonna happen.” Other voices called out, “We all want a fair shot at her,” seemed to be the general consensus. Along with a general sentiment that could be expressed as, “Lets get this show started.”

From the catcalls and shouts of agreement, the Auctioneer was rubbing his hands together – he could almost see his huge fee, growing larger and larger every time someone spoke.

“Well, after that declaration, I think we’re all more than ready to see how well you can exercise control over the girl. Let’s have that demonstration, shall we?”

Lulling her mind to acceptance, Spike turned Buffy so that she faced the crowd that she could not see and stood behind her. ‘Be ready’ he thought. ‘I’m going to bite you again, like I did back in the hotel. You liked it – remember?’

As Buffy nodded her acquiescence, Spike grabbed her roughly from behind and without preamble sank his fangs into her exposed flesh. Buffy gave a startled gasp at first, then relaxed into his embrace.

Pouring all his pent up desire into the bite, Spike tried to make it look like he was drinking furiously, though in reality he took very little at all. Instead, he pressed upon her mind again, making her writhe and moan under the dual pressure of his need and his fangs. Furiously she let out a large gasp as she climaxed on the stage. Slowly he withdrew his fangs and held her while she trembled with the aftershocks.

With any luck at all, that would be the end of the show, and the bidding would begin. But when had either of the two of them ever been lucky?


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A/N: WOW, over 100 reviews! Thank you. And I don't mean to be mean (well, only a little) but this part needed to be said. Trust me, I think you will enjoy the next installment (I hope) Leave another review - it helps me update faster!