Chapter Two

Dawn moaned as she swam back towards consciousness. She attempted to open her eyes, quickly realizing it was a bad idea. Desperately, her mind tried to gather itself and remember what had happened. She had gone to a club with a bunch of her friends to celebrate finals being over. Most of them had the summer ahead of them before starting graduate school, and Dawn was no different.

Buffy, or Liz rather(she still had a hard time remembering to call her that), had nearly shit when she had heard what Dawn intended to study. Paranormal Psychology. Liz couldn't understand why, she herself wanting to forget. But Dawn couldn't. And being a paranormal being herself, she figured it was good career choice.

Orientating herself the best she could, she attempted to open her eyes again. She couldn't remember drinking enough to make her head feel like it was splitting in two. Then again, she couldn't remember anything after excusing herself from the guy she'd been dancing with to go to the ladies room. As her eyes focused on the white ceiling above her, Dawn smiled as she remembered his name. Rob. He'd been cute, with longish, wavy, brown hair and expressive brown eyes. He'd reminded her a bit of Xander, before the wedding disaster.

Dawn blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes as the memory of her first crush swam through her mind.

*Stop it, Dawn. Figure out where you are, then have a pity party.* Rolling gingerly to her side, her eyes came to rest on the man sitting on a chair next to the bed. Yelping in surprise, she shot up to a sitting position, and immediately regretted it, as her head began to pound.

"You're awake." the man said in a smooth, deep voice. His dark blonde hair was clipped short and perfectly styled. Grey eyes sparkled in a face that was tanned and rugged. Full lips were curved into a smile that showed perfect, white teeth. His grey suit was tailored to show his leanly muscled body. A black silk shirt, grey silk tie, and black shoes so highly polished they gleamed completed the outfit. A diamond and gold pinky ring winked in the light from his right hand. He gave off the air of money and power. And something almost sinister shimmered beneath the gloss.

"Where am I?' Dawn asked with more bravado than she felt. "And who are you?"

"You may call me Lucas, Ms. Summers. And you are my guest." He waved a well manicured hand around the elegant room, his smile never slipping.

"And WHERE am I you're guest?" she persisted.

"That is not for you to worry about. As long as your sister agrees to come to our little tournament, all will be well with you." Dawn felt a thread of fear work its way through her hazy brain.

"And if she doesn't?" Of course, she already knew the answer, but some macabre part of her had to ask.

"Well, let me just ask you, how much faith do you have in your sister?"

"She'll come." Dawn answered immediately. Liz had never let her down before.

"Then you don't have anything to worry about. Please, relax and enjoy your stay. Anything you need will be provided." Lucas stood then, and turned to leave the room. Pausing at the door, he turned to her once again. "Oh, and Ms. Summers. Don't even think about escape. You'll be dead before you even get out of the compound." Flashing one last, chilling smile, Lucas turned and left the room.

Dawn flew off the bed, and towards the door. Grabbing the doorknob with both hands, she yanked, already knowing she was locked in. Slamming a hand against the door, she ignored the ache in her head as she screamed a stream of curses that would have made Spike blush.

After venting her frustration and fear for a couple of more minutes, she turned to inspect her gilded cage.

The room was large, seeming to her to be close to the size of their apartment back in L.A. The walls were a soft cream color, offset by a pastel blue trim. To the right of her was a large vanity table, that took up most of the wall. Several bottles and jars adorned the white surface, which upon further inspection, proved to be very expensive cosmetics and perfumes. The kind that Dawn had always tried on in stores, but could never bring home.

The drawers were filled with an array of silky and lacy under things, in a variety of colors and styles. To her surprise, they were all in her size. A wide, blue padded bench sat in front of the beveled glass mirror of the table.

A door stood between the vanity and the king sized bed, which Dawn assumed led to the bathroom. The bed was covered in a soft, blue bedspread, with several small pillows across the top to match. A water color of a pond on a spring day hung over the head. Inspecting the drawers of the two night stands, she found a selection of magazines and books, similar to the ones she had at home. Pulling out one in particular, she smiled faintly and ran a hand across the cover. Putting it aside, she continued her inspection, a creeped out feeling washing over her.

She moved away from the bed and walked over to the closet. A cursory look around the large walk-in let her know that it was filled with clothes and shoes in her size and the style that she wore.

They'd obviously planned on taking her for a while.

The entertainment center along the wall across from the bed held a big screen t.v., DVD player, movies and a stereo with all her favorite cd's.

The heels of her boots clicked on the hardwood floor as she walked to the bay window opposite the vanity. Pulling back the cream colored curtain, she stared out onto the sun drenched beach below her. Sighing heavily at how helpless she felt, Dawn turned from the breathtaking view, and moved to look into the bathroom.

She couldn't help but sigh when she saw the large, black marble, garden tub. All her favorite shampoos and bath scents were line across the back shelf. A separate shower stall sat to the left of the tub, and to the right of the sink and vanity mirror. The toilet was set discreetly back in an alcove behind the door. The floor and sink were in the same black marble as the tub.

Moving back to the bedroom, Dawn threw herself across the bed, where she stayed as the sun set in the sky.

"Please hurry, Liz." was the last thought she had, as she drifted into a fitful sleep.

****

"Just be there." Spike growled into the phone before hanging it up, and slipping it back into his duster. Turning, he looked down at the sleeping form of his latest lover. She was as different from Liz as he could find.

Tall and leggy, with lush curves, and a wild black mane of hair. She had olive colored skin and violet eyes. She loved life and attacked it with a ferocity that matched his own. She knew what and who he was, and accepted both the demon and the man, never asking him to deny either.

Not for the first time, Spike wished that he could love this woman that had been warming his cold body for the last several months. Shaking his head, he gently ran the back of his knuckles over the curve of her cheek.

"Vanessa." he called softly. Stretching leisurely, she rolled over, the sheet slipping down to reveal one perfect breast. Opening her eyes, a smile touched her full lips. It slowly disappeared as she studied his face, her dark, delicate brows drawing together.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question. Her soft, honeyed voice held no anger as she looked at him. Vanessa had known that she wouldn't be able to keep him. He belonged to another. She was just glad that she had been able to borrow him for awhile.

"She needs me." he said simply.

"Then you should go to her." Her hand cupped his cheek, understanding filling her eyes. Spike never knew how he got so lucky to know this woman. She had gone along way towards helping him heal. But she had always known that it was the Slayer that held his heart. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, lingering a little to savor her taste.

"I'll be back." he said, before grabbing his bag and walking out of the bedroom. Vanessa smiled sadly, a lone tear drifting down her cheek as she heard the front door open and close.

"No you won't. Goodbye, Spike."

****

Spike had just raised his drink to his lips, when he felt a large hand grip his shoulder.

"Took you long enough." he sneered, not turning around. He slammed the shot back as the owner of the hand slipped onto the barstool next to him. Spike motioned to the bartender to set him up again, and indicated he should set one up for his companion.

"What do you want, Spike?"

His scarred eyebrow shot up at the derisiveness of the tone.

"So, it's like that, is it?" he smirked, ignoring the small stab of pain in his undead heart. *Should be used to this by now, Ponce.* he scoffed at himself.

"What did you expect? I haven't heard from you in six years. Then you call, tell me to meet you here, and hang up before I've said much more than hello."

"Ah, Peaches. You missed me." Spike's tone was mocking. "What? Were you pissed that I wasn't around when you had an itch to scratch?" His jaw clenched, his eyes turned to ice and his voice was bitter. "That's all I was ever good for anyway." he finished, knocking back his drink. The alcohol tasted sour as it burned down his throat. The last time he had seen his sire, Angel was still reeling from the return of his then sixteen year old son, after the kid had been kidnaped by some ponce whose family Angel had killed. He had taken one look at the drunken, depressed Spike at his door and hauled him upstairs. He then proceeded to use him, violently, over and over again until the blonde vampire had passed out from the pain and the pleasure of it. It had taken Spike days to recover. And as soon as he did, he left without a backwards glance.

"Are you talking about me, or Buffy?"

"There's a difference?' Spike asked with a harsh laugh, glaring into the brown eyes of his sire.

"What do you want?" Angel asked again, sipping his drink.

"I need you to get me some equipment. A couple of transmitters. Small. Undetectable. I can pay." Spike found himself wanting to get out of there in a hurry. Seeing both Liz, then Angel within twenty four hours of each other was proving to much for him. That compiled with saying goodbye to Vanessa was enough to make him want to crawl into the nearest hole and drink himself into a coma.

"And you think I'll get this for you, why?"

"Don't be a git." Spike snarled. "You're the only person I know that can get this stuff."

Angel quirked his eyebrows up and studied his wayward childe. He was tense, obviously. Angry, for sure. But there was something deeper there that Angel couldn't quite put his finger on.

"What do you need them for?" Spike stared down at his empty glass for a moment, contemplating his answer. Should he tell him? Would it make Angel's help come easier? He still didn't understand why Liz hadn't gone to her first love before him. Sighing heavily, Spike turned to face his sire, all animosity stripped from his face.

"Buffy." Angel tensed visibly, his fingers tightening on the glass. Spike quickly explained what happened to Dawn and why.

"Why would I want to help her?' Angel asked, sounding entirely too much like Angelus for Spike's liking.

"Well, let's see. Maybe because she was the love of your pathetic unlife. Or maybe because she's supposed to be your bloody soul mate. Or how about because you're supposed to be some soddin' champion that's supposed to help the helpless. Does any of that work for you?" Spike growled out, anger flaring in his eyes again.

"Buffy's hardly helpless. She's the Slayer." Angel retorted, his own anger rising. Spike's eyes widened comically at the coldness of the other vampire's voice.

"Not any more. Everyone she has ever loved has been ripped out of her life. She has nothing. NOTHING!"

"She has you." Angel pointed out, simply.

"She'll always have me. And I thought she would always have you." Spike's tone was accusatory as he glared at Angel.

"Don't try guilt with me when it comes to her. It doesn't work anymore."

Unneeded air hissed through Spike's teeth.

"You're one hell of a piece of work, aren't you Peaches?"

"You don't know anything about it, Spike. Don't judge me." The brunettes' voice was dangerously low.

"So enlighten me, ponce. What could that girl have done that would make you turn on her like this?"

"Ask her."

"You know what? Never fuckin' mind. Shoulda known you wouldn't help. Just pretend that we never had this conversation. And don't worry, you'll not be bothered by us again." Spike threw money on the bar, glared one last time at Angel and stormed out into the night.

****

An hour later, when Spike went back to retrieve his car, he found a thin brown box sitting on the front seat. Opening the box, he found two transmitters, no bigger than a pencil eraser, and as thin as tissue. A short note from Angel told him how they worked and how to place them so they wouldn't be detected. There was also a receiver, so they could be tracked.

With as smirk, Spike pulled out his cell phone to put his plan into action.

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