White Magic

The tension, already nearly palpable at the time of Angel's meeting, continued to mount as the assembled group awaited Buffy's arrival. Those who were to play the most vital parts in the plan took their positions, while trying to appear as casual as possible lest Buffy should be suspicious when she arrived.

Willow had performed a small glamour to hide the ritual circle Wesley had formed behind the reception desk, in which to perform the unbinding spell, and the former Watcher leaned casually against the back side of the desk, trying to look as idle and nonchalant as possible.

Willow was anxiously fidgeting in a far corner of the room, where she hoped not to be noticed by the Slayer until the time came for her to perform her own spell. With every moment that passed, however, her nerves seemed to increase, and she became more and more jittery and anxious... as did nearly all of them, to some degree or another.

It took every ounce of effort Spike had to keep from collapsing into a total nervous wreck.

He paced the floor anxiously near the base of the stairs, running a trembling hand through his hair as he glanced over and over again toward the closed door through which his abuser would walk any moment. His throat was dry, and his entire body was shaking with terror he was struggling to suppress.

A light touch on his arm had him whirling around, biting back the startled cry that rose in his throat as his hands came up defensively in front of him.

It was Tara.

He froze, not sure how to react given the current strained state of their relationship, not sure how she would *want* him to react. The softness in her eyes, her touch, nearly broke the last shred of his resolve, and he felt his own eyes welling with tears. Before he could fall apart right there in plain view of everyone, Tara led him aside, into the semi-privacy of the alcove to the side of the stairs.

Spike suppressed his impulse to reach out to her, to fall into the familiar comfort of her arms, unsure of what she wanted, what was allowed at this point. Tara's hands ran gently up and down his cool arms, her eyes glancing downward briefly before rising to meet his gaze with an affectionate, concerned expression. Her hand rose from his arm in a halting gesture as if to put her arm around him, but she held back, awaiting permission.

"Spike," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Can I... is it okay if I..."

"Oh, God, Tara." Spike's voice was trembling with grateful relief as he understood what it was she was asking and fell forward, his head resting on her shoulder and his arms reaching out to embrace her. "Please... please..."

"Shhh." Tara raised a hand to cup the back of his head, holding him close as she whispered in his ear. "It's gonna be fine, Sweetheart. It's gonna be fine. You can do this. She can't touch you, Spike, not until Angel takes the sanctuary spell down, and then it will only be for a matter of seconds..."

"That's all it'll take," Spike pointed out dubiously.

"You can't think like that," Tara gently reproved him, pulling back to meet his eyes with a worried frown. "You have to be strong... to face her. As much as I want to... I can't do this for you."

Spike stared at her for a long moment, swallowing hard, before he reluctantly withdrew from her arms, nodding his silent assent to her words.

"I just... want you to know," Tara explained softly, raising a tender hand to his cheek, drawing his gaze back up to hers. "I'm here, Spike. If you need me... if she tries anything... I'm right here, backing you up. Okay?"

Spike looked away, unable to hold her gaze for long, feeling ashamed and unworthy of her affections because of his fear and weakness.

*'S no wonder she's been wanting to keep her distance.*

"All right," he replied aloud, clearing his throat uncomfortably as he pulled abruptly away from her. "Got it, love." He forced a brave smile as he edged back toward the lobby. "I'll be fine, yeah? Don't worry about me."

Tara frowned, concerned by the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice. "Spike..."

But he had already slipped away, moving back toward the center of the room, away from Tara and the personal moment they had been sharing. She called to him again, but he ignored her, heading purposefully toward Angel, though they both knew his only purpose in that moment was to escape the discomfort of his own emotions.

Tara would have followed him, in spite of her resolve to give him the space he needed to stand on his own... would have, if the door of the hotel had not been slammed open in the next moment, banging against the wall as the Slayer made her dramatic entrance.

Everyone froze, all eyes focused on Buffy as she stood in the open doorway, her hands on her hips, surveying the room with a smug smile on her lips. After a moment, she stepped inside, swinging the door shut again behind her.

"Well," she remarked, meeting the guarded eyes of Angel, Dawn, and Tara, before finally settling her cold gaze on Spike's wide-eyed, fearful face. "Looks like the gang's all here."

"Buffy." Angel acknowledged her with a nod, stepping forward and clearing his throat in an attempt to draw her attention to himself, away from Spike. "Thanks for coming. We need to talk."

Buffy kept her gaze focused on Spike, taking a few slow steps into the room, closer to the blond vampire. "We'll get to that."

Spike moved hastily backward as she advanced, until his back hit the reception desk behind him. He grimaced as much at his own instinctive display of fear as at the impact, bracing himself as Buffy swept gracefully past Angel and toward him.

"Wait a second, Buffy," Angel ordered sharply, moving as if to get between them, alarm in his eyes.

"Relax, Angel, I can't hurt him," Buffy sneered as she stopped a bare foot in front of Spike. Without looking away from Spike she added, "And you can't touch me, either, so just calm down and give me a minute, okay?"

Angel stopped reluctantly behind her, frowning as he remembered that she was right. He couldn't so much as pull her away from Spike, with the sanctuary spell in place, though at least that also meant that Spike was physically safe from the Slayer's rage.

Of course, Spike's physical safety was not the only thing Angel was worried about.

Buffy sidled in closer to Spike, though still not quite touching him, and he leaned back slightly across the counter, his knuckles white and clenched on the edge of the desk as he struggled to control his trembling. The sanctuary spell seemed far away and insignificant at the moment. He turned panicked eyes on Tara near the foot of the stairs, and saw the flash of concern and sympathy in her eyes before she looked away, her jaw set with her determination to allow him to face this alone.

He had never felt so abandoned, so betrayed, in his entire existence.

"Missed you." Buffy's voice was low, inaudible to anyone but Spike, as she rested her hands on the desk, brushing the polished wood less than an inch from his own hands. "You know that? Can't wait to take you home with me, Spike." There was a subtle cruelty in her voice, and her eyes glittered with malice as she met his stunned gaze.

"Th-that's never going to happen," he insisted, though his voice was a trembling whisper, and his eyes were wide with stark terror. "Y-you can't d-do that."

Buffy's smile widened, and she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing his ear as she whispered, "Watch me."

Spike closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly in denial of the cold fist of terror that clenched around his heart with her words, though he could not form words to deny them. All he could think to do was to reassure himself in his panicked thoughts, again and again.

*She can't touch me... she can't touch me... she can't touch me... *

*********************************

And that was not their only problem at the moment, either.

Just a few short feet away from the counter where Buffy and Spike stood, the ritual circle was waiting for Wesley to get his chance to break the bond. However, until Buffy moved away from the counter, he couldn't make a move at all without drawing her attention to what he was doing.

"Buffy," Willow spoke up from across the room, swallowing nervously as the Slayer straightened and half-turned toward her with a single raised brow. "Let's just... all sit down and talk about this, okay? Why don't you just... leave Spike alone for now. We'll figure this out."

Tara felt a momentary rush of affection for her former lover as she realized that Willow had obviously been thinking along the same lines she had, and was deliberately trying to draw Buffy away from the counter.

Tara only hoped it was not as obvious to Buffy as it was to her.

"In a minute," Buffy snapped without shifting her gaze, and Spike visibly flinched at the dark sound of menace in her voice.

"Buffy, back off," Angel insisted impatiently, moving in beside her. "You think you're convincing us that you're okay, with this psychotic little display?"

Buffy was quiet for a moment, not backing off at all, still smiling coldly at the trembling vampire in front of her. When she spoke, her words were soft and chilling.

"Who says I'm still trying to convince you of anything?"

Alarms went off in Tara's head, and her eyes went wide with fear as Buffy suddenly grabbed Spike by the throat, slamming him down hard on his back across the counter. He was thoroughly disoriented by the unexpected blow, as she yanked him up by the collar of his shirt, one arm locking around his throat as she turned her back to the counter, facing the room with Spike in front of her like a shield.

A collective gasp seemed to fill the room as the others gradually registered what was already painfully obvious to Spike.

The sanctuary spell had been broken.

"I'm through playing around," Buffy snarled as she withdrew a stake from the pocket of her jeans and pushed it painfully against Spike's chest before anyone could even think to move. "I'm not gonna play your stupid little games. I'm taking what's mine, and anybody who tries to stop me is going to die. Is that simple enough for you?"

Spike's hands gripped weakly at Buffy's arm around his throat, struggling to draw breath that he had forgotten he didn't need; but she was too strong, and he could not break her grip. Frozen with terror, he could do nothing as she held him hostage, doing exactly what he had feared - exploiting his weakness and using it against the others.

Angel stared at her in horror, shaking his head slightly, confused. "But... I didn't. *How*... ?"

Tara shared his bewilderment and dismay. Angel had not spoken the words to break the sanctuary spell, but it was quite obviously broken.

*Which means *she's* vulnerable, too... *

Tara took a slight step forward, one hand extended as she prepared to cast a spell.

Unfortunately, Buffy caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and turned sharply in Tara's direction, pressing the stake harder against Spike's chest so that he winced in pain and bit back a cry as the tip pierced his skin, drawing blood.

"Try it, witch, and he's dust," the Slayer snarled... and Tara froze.

An instant later, she was grateful that she had. The impulse to protect Spike had almost caused her to do something which would have ruined the bond-breaking ritual completely. The ritual could not be performed in the presence of any other magicks of any kind.

Tara scanned the room for Wesley, and realized with a sense of cautious relief that he was out of sight... which meant that he was most likely on the floor behind the partial shelter of the desk, performing the ritual as quietly as possible. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to save Spike, as well as to salvage the situation.

*If we can get Spike away from her... and keep her busy for just a few seconds... *

"Dawnie." Buffy's sharp voice drew Tara's attention away from her thoughts in alarm, and she looked across the room at the frightened teenager who was looking fearfully toward her sister. Buffy's false, cold smile did not falter as she ordered, "Get over here, Sweetie."

"No," Spike spoke up at last, his voice hoarse and trembling but angry and determined. "No, Buffy, leave her out of this! You know it's me you want..."

Buffy removed the stake from his chest briefly, instead jamming its blunt end painfully into the small of his back before returning it to its life-threatening position. Spike gasped with pain, his knees buckling as she leaned in close to speak quietly next to his ear.

"Did I say you could talk, Baby?"

As the stake dug again into his already damaged chest, Spike shook his head in instinctive obedience. "Please," he gasped out. "Buffy... please... don't... don't hurt her..."

Jealous and angered by Spike's continued concern for her sister, Buffy snapped, "Shut up," shaking him slightly with the arm wrapped around him, the hand of which was clutching the stake. As she spoke, her other hand trailed slowly down his side, around his hip and inward toward the mark on his thigh.

Which was still as effective as ever, unfortunately.

Tara glanced anxiously toward the desk, but from where she stood could see no signs of Wesley or whatever progress he might be making behind it. Buffy was standing with her back to the desk, and seemed utterly unaware of what the former Watcher was doing.

"No!" Spike cried out as Buffy's fingers brushed the sensitive flesh through his jeans, jerking away from her touch in panic.

Buffy yanked him back into place, harsh fingers digging into the tender spot she had carved in his flesh, as she whispered in his ear, "You're still mine, Spike. I told you that wasn't going to change. I told you what would happen, too, if you defied me..."

"No," Spike repeated, his voice a pleading whimper, tears streaking his face. "Buffy, no..."

Her voice low so that no one else could hear, Buffy went on as if he had not spoken. "I'm going to kill them, Spike. I'm going to kill every last one of them while you watch. And *then*... I'm going to deal with you." Pressing against the mark, she commanded in a louder voice, using the authority of the bond, "Now sit down, and shut up. Do *not* move until I tell you to."

With those words, she released Spike, flinging him to the floor against the front of the desk with jarring force, before turning to face the room in an attack stance. To his dismay, Spike found that he physically could not move from the spot, bound there by his claimant's command.

Buffy shifted to the side, now half-facing the desk as she scanned the room, clearly trying to gauge who posed the greatest threat to her. Though it was obvious from the confident smirk on her face, she did not consider any of them a match for her. She truly believed that she was more than powerful enough to take them all on, and win.

And it was possible that she was, Tara admitted ruefully in her mind. She glanced once more toward the desk, and the watcher behind it that was just out of her sight.

Unfortunately, Buffy was no longer at such an angle of disadvantage.

Tara's heart leapt up into her throat as she saw Buffy freeze, her eyes narrowed as she looked at something behind the desk, just outside Tara's line of vision. The blonde witch moved cautiously to the side, until she could see Wesley sitting in the center of the circle, hurriedly chanting in an almost silent whisper.

A slow smile spread across Buffy's face, chilling in its dark malice.

"Wesley," she said in a disarmingly soft voice. "Long time no see."

Wesley winced slightly when he realized that she had seen him, but did not so much as look at her, just seemed to hurry his pace as he chanted the words to the spell and scattered the herbs in his hand around the circle.

"Looks like you're busy," the Slayer remarked as she moved around the side of the desk, warily watching the others who were cautiously watching for their openings to try to stop her. She paused, her smile fading into cold deadly rage as she concluded, "Also looks like you're *first*."