Title: Wolf Pack

Chapter Title: The Fight

Author: Baby Blues

E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com

Rated: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, but the story is.

Summary: Buffy is tortured for a bit, and Spike threatens Angel’s life and a fight breaks out.

Dedication: To . . . James Marsters, ‘cause he’s hot!


~Spike: If something happens to her, I’ll hack off your bloody cock and make you eat it.

~Angelus: I’d like to see you try . . .


Angelus stared at the screen, ignoring his favorite screen saver with the red glowing eyes of wolves and the distant sound of their howls emitting from the machine. It used to be able to comfort him and make him smile, but not at this moment . . . not when Buffy was in the Initiative’s hands.

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his clasped hands as though he was in prayer . . . as though a prayer could help him now. He could still remember Alana with clarity . . . the torture she had gone through, the pain she had to have suffered through in cruel hands . . .

He had to find Buffy now!

He could still picture the ultimate grief in her crystalline blue eyes when she came through the door, tears glistening in her beautiful azure orbs. But the slash of pain that came across her face hit the mark in his heart.

Would she able to forgive him? Would she even let him explain? Would he be able to forgive HIMSELF if she didn‘t? So many questions running through his mind, and there was only one person who would be able to answer all of them. But she wasn’t here, she was somewhere in Sunnydale, probably petrified and alone . . .

Buffy had never been away from her clan, Angelus knew that. This would break her, traumatize her . . . and she would blame him for it. But he wouldn’t be able to hold that against her.

His heart was in pieces. He didn’t know what to do. Everyone in the pack were doing their best, but here he was, just sitting in his study room, staring at his computer screen as though it would give him the answers he needed.

For the first time in Angelus’ life, Angelus had no real answer. Because either way . . . he would lose her. And he couldn’t have that, not when he had finally tasted the happiness and the bliss when he was with her . . . not when he had just found her and gained her trust.

But that was gone . . . his chance had gone down the drain. But he couldn’t let that happen. He’ll do everything to win her back. Anything and everything.

"You know, for a leader, you really do suck," a voice interrupted his self flagellation.

"Leave," Angelus ordered simply.

"No," Spike answered back, walking further into the study room, his eyes fixed on Angelus’ depressed expression.

The leader of the pack was ready to kill him.

"I wanted to warn her, you know," Spike smirked cynically, moving further in the room, "But her happiness fogged my sight . . . and I was lost within her bliss . . . "

"Spare me your poetic talk, Bleached Wonder," Angelus sneered, "And while you’re at it, why don’t you get out?"

Spike glared at him in return. "Don’t get so cocky," he replied, "Because of that, Buffy is gone . . . "

Angelus clenched his jaws. "What do you want, Spike," he demanded.

"Nothing," he answered fiercely, blue eyes burning with intensity, "Just came here to warn you . . . "

"Warn me?" Angelus chuckled coldly.

Spike became even more infuriated as he slammed his palms against his desk and glared at him with cold eyed. "If something happens to her, I’ll hack off your bloody cock and make you eat it," he said through clenched teeth.

"I’d like to see you try," Angelus snapped back.

Spike threw a punch, but Angelus caught it easily as he twisted the younger man’s arm, causing the blond to fight back the cry of pain shooting up his arms. "Don’t try and screw with me, Spike," Angelus told him, "I can kill you this second . . . "

"You wouldn’t bloody try," Spike replied, his voice as bit shaky as sweat beaded his forehead as he ignored the pain, " ‘Cause we all know that Buffy will hate you even more."

Angelus growled and threw him to the ground. "Get out, Spike!" he yelled.

The blond chuckled on the floor, rolling on the rug as he clutched at his stomach with his bruised arm. "Can’t handle the truth, Peaches?" he laughed.

Angelus stepped over to him, grabbing him by his shirt and throwing him against the floor. "Fuck you!"

The British man just laughed. "You have nothing to say," he said, " ‘Cause you know I’m bloody right, ya big poof."

"Shut up," Angelus said warningly.

"No," he replied fiercely.

Angelus punched him again. "You will fuck off, Spike!"


Another punch.

"Angelus!" Joyce pulled the older man off of Spike and pushed them apart. "Stop this nonsense, now! We’ll never get anything done to find her if you two keep going at it like a bunch of primal males. What would Buffy say?"

The two men became silent and backed away from each other.

"One more word out of you, Spike, and I swear to God, I won’t hesitate to see you dead," Angelus stated firmly.

"Whatever you say, Peaches," Spike challenged in return, sneering at the alpha male," Whatever you say," he repeated before turning and leaving the study room in a few strides.

Joyce sighed and looked at Angelus as he moved towards one of the windows, gazing out into the night. Tears welled up in his brown eyes as he raked a trembling hand in his hair. And Joyce‘s heart fell. She could only imagine what he must be going through.

"I don’t know what to do, Joyce," he told her truthfully.

"You can start by acting your age," she said softly, but firmly as she stared at his back. "We need you even more, and we need your head on your shoulders . . . we need our leader. Understand?"

Angelus turned and nodded. "It was stupid, I know. But the truth in his words . . . " he sighed.

"Don’t listen to him," Joyce said straightforwardly, "All there is to do now is to find her and save her. That’s the most important thing right now . . . But if you continue brooding in here . . . then we’ll never get anywhere."

Angelus just nodded.

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

The whip slashed across her back and she cried out in pain. A moment later, the wound healed, sealing the broken skin, not even leaving a scar. But the pain was still there, her back numb from the slashes she had received for the past half hour.

Her healing abilities were being tested. She wasn’t sure if they only did this because of their study, or if they were receiving some sick pleasure from it as well.

"Seven point three second," Finn announced.

"She’s powerful," Walsh nodded, "How many whips have we inflicted upon her?" she asked Forest who was keeping the tally.

"We’re down to eighty-nine," he answered.

"We’ll keep going ‘til we reach one-hundred," Walsh smirked. "None of our alpha females had ever survived this long. They were bleeding by the sixtieth slash."

"She’s a tough little bitch," Riley commented snidely, "Aren’t you, lover?"

Buffy gritted her teeth, but did not reply. Again with the ‘Lover.‘ How many times did she have to tell him not to call her that?

She gave out a hoarse cry when the leather whipped her back for the nintieth time.

She was ready to die and just end this misery.

But before she could be hit again, Graham came bounding inside the torture chamber, breathless and wide eyed with papers in his hand.

"What is it?" Walsh snapped.

"You should come take a look at this," he said and handed the papers to the professor, who skimmed through the data in her hands.

Buffy let out a deep breath, glad that was able to take a small break.

"I don’t understand," Graham said, "I don’t know how it came out positive. Shouldn‘t it be too early to know for sure?"

"A werewolf’s body is different than a human’s," Walsh answered nonchalantly, "They develop rather quickly to form both their human and their extra werewolf features."

"But it’s already a two month old fetus," Graham objected.

Buffy’s head lifted as she tried to look behind her.

Fetus? Did that mean . . .

"As I said," Walsh said, handing the papers back to the young man, "It’s a natural occurrence."

Graham nodded and quickly left, sharing uneasy looks with Riley and Forest. If the young woman was pregnant . . . then maybe they should let her go. But they kept quiet, knowing full well of the punishment they could receive if they questioned Walsh’s authority.

Buffy stared at the woman with the clean and neat-as-a-pin white lab coat. The older woman smirked at the young blonde. "I think a congratulation is in order, Miss Summers-Giles," she grinned, "Give her twenty more whips."

Buffy shook her head and screamed as the whip came ripping across her back. She cringe and closed her eyes tightly.

A baby.

A sudden motherly instinct surged through her, and she began to struggle within the straps that held her against the wall. She had to get out of there . . . for the survival of herself . . . as well as her unborn child.

Continue to Chapter 31: The Savior
Back to Chapter 29: The Panic