Holiday on Helarth

Chapter One ~ Under the Moonbow

"I love you."

"No you don't, but thanks for saying it."

It hurt, knowing he didn't believe her when she finally had the courage to say the words. And yet, she couldn't blame him for not believing. She gazed at him, doing her best to hold in the tears threatening to spill over. Suddenly, the trance Buffy and Spike were in shattered as a loud explosion shook the already trembling ground beneath them. Their interlocked hands wrenched apart as they struggled to get back their footing.

"Now go!" Spike said with authority.

Almost-Buffy almost jumped to obey him, but if she was going, so the hell was he. It took less than a second to get the amulet and chain up and over his head. Still gripping it in one hand, she got a fist full of leather duster in the other and raced towards the stone steps a few feet away. The relief she felt over Spike not resisting her was short-lived. Halfway up, the steps began to crumble.

She stumbled and they both fell into a heap, holding onto each other for dear life. Buffy still clutched the amulet in one hand, and now it lay draped across Spike's back. She got a good look below the stairs and her heart dropped at the yawning abyss of blackness where the ledge he'd been willing to die on was just a few seconds ago.

Their eyes met and they both knew.

This was the end.

The anguish on Spike's face was too much for her to bear. She knew it wasn't for himself. He'd been willing to burn to ash with the amulet still around his neck. No. This was all about her.

"I'm not afraid of death, Spike." Her voice was hard to hear over the roar of destruction around them.

"I wanted you to live."

Buffy rested her head on his shoulder. "It's okay."

Another big jolt hit the stairs and the chain slipped from her grasp. With a gasp, she turned her head to watch it as it fell. They would follow it down any second now. The amulet began to glow a phosphorescent green and the air shimmered and warped around the glow as it spread across the darkness.

She didn't have time to marvel at the sight, because the steps beneath them gave way.

They fell into the open space, trying to hold on to each other, but it was no use. The sheer force of free falling pulled them apart just as they reached the section of glowing air. There was a loud whomp as a massive weight of pressure squeezed the air out of Buffy's lungs before, to her utter amazement, she hit solid ground much sooner than she was expecting to.

Buffy opened her eyes and blinked a few times, trying to get her double vision to go away. Or, should that be quadruple vision, because she was seeing four full moons? They were arched across a starless sky, almost like a rainbow—a white, beautiful glowing moonbow. She shook her head, but her vision wouldn't clear.

Attempting to sit up was not a good idea. As her stomach pitched and rolled, Buffy went still and fought the urge to lose what little she'd eaten before the battle. She had no idea how she'd ended up outside, or how it had gotten so dark. She must have been unconscious for a very long time.

The feeling that things weren't quite right started to build inside her gut as she took in her surroundings. No crickets sang out, not even a hint of a breeze could be felt, and it was altogether too quiet, even for deserted Sunnydale. And the four moons hadn't fused into one for her yet.

"Spike?"

She turned her head and searched the area on both sides, not finding anything remotely familiar about the terrain, and even more worrisome, there was no sign of Spike. A rustling noise behind her put her on alert, but with her stab wound it hurt too much to move. In a flash, Spike's face covered two of the moons.

"Buffy? Are you…" He grimaced and struggled to talk while he knelt beside her. "You okay?"

"I think so. You?"

He was too busy looking her over to answer. While he did a thorough inspection, she relaxed against the ground, all the tension leaving her body. He was okay. She was okay. They were going to be fine. As he reached for the bloodstained area on her shirt, she gripped his hand. Their eyes met, his furrowed with concern.

"We did it, Spike. And we made it out alive."

"Your side—"

"Will be fine in a few days." Buffy tried to sit up, but a sharp pain at the site of the wound made her lie back down. "We need to find Giles and the others. Someone can patch me up. Some antiseptic, a few stitches, and I'll be good as new.

"Give us a minute." Spike stretched out beside her, propping his head up with his elbow. "I think I was burning from the inside out. I don't think I'd even have the strength to help you up yet."

The casual way he posed beside her could not mask the pain etched on his face, and she started to worry. With her lips pursed, she reached out to touch his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

"Tell me you're going to be okay."

Spike looked up at the sky, avoiding her. "I'll be fine. But things aren't adding up."

"Please tell me you don't see four moons up there."

"It's an incredible sight, isn't it?" he said with wonder.

"It was daylight when we went under the school." Buffy frowned and bit her lip. "How long was I passed out, and how come you didn't burn to a crisp out here before it got dark?"

He shivered, glanced around, and pulled his duster tighter around him. "You're not going to like my answers."

"You're scaring me, Spike. Just tell me."

"You were out for all of two minutes, if that." He gazed around at the terrain, ignoring the shocked expression on her face. "And it was dark when we got here."

"Where is here?"

Spike let his eyes shut for the briefest of moments, before he stared right at her. "Not exactly sure, but I'd say we're not in our own dimension."

"That's crazy!" Buffy sat up, in spite of the pain.

He followed suit, though he did it more slowly, easing his way up. "How do you explain the moons?"

"I…" She shook her head.

"We should find some shelter. Who knows what sort of nasties inhabit this place or how quickly night turns to day."

Stunned by the idea of not being in their own dimension, Buffy could only nod in agreement. Words would not form for her. They managed to help each other to their feet and cautiously made their way across unfamiliar, desert-like terrain. It was dark, but with the light of four full moons, it was more than bright enough to see shapes and small rocks amongst the fine sand at their feet. Small rolling hills were off in the distance, but there were no twinkling lights to indicate populated areas. They clung to each other for support and strength of mind.

Buffy glanced at Spike as he kept watchful eyes on the scene around him, and she swallowed hard. She was glad they were together, but she'd feel better if they weren't so battered and exhausted. In their present condition, they wouldn't be able to defend themselves against an enemy. At least not for long.

Spike stopped suddenly, almost causing her to stumble.

"Sorry, love, but look at this."

Just to the right, they could make out a pattern in the ground. It was as if someone had made a brick-like path flush with the sandy earth. Instead of bricks, though, the path was hard packed dirt, a shade darker than the sand around them. Before she could even make a comment about not being in Kansas anymore and following the dirt brick road, a moving shape got their attention.

They gripped each other tighter, both trying to push the other behind for protection. A hundred yards away, the dark shape seemed to be coming up from the ground where the path disappeared. The creature gasped and stopped when it noticed them.

As it moved cautiously towards them, Buffy noticed a familiar shape in the weapon now being held aloft, ready to strike. It was her scythe! Glints of red and silver shined from it in the light of the moons.

The bald creature fascinated Buffy. It halted at a safe distance, taking them in, its deep red skin like leather and the brown shorts and top not much of a covering at all. Its bare feet were like those of a human. Upon closer inspection, it was clear by the almost human facial features and its shape that it was female.

It finally spoke, and though Buffy couldn't understand the language, it was clear by the creature's tone that she was demanding to know who and what they were.

"What's she saying?" Buffy asked Spike, knowing that he was fluent in many demon languages.

"Beats me. 'S a language I've never heard before."

They both jumped when the creature's eyes widened to twice their size, and she began to speak English with a heavy Scottish accent. "You speak English!" Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward a bit. "Come closer."

"Lower your weapon first." Buffy pointed at the scythe, wishing she had it in hand. "And I believe that belongs to me."

The creature chuckled, even as she lowered the scythe to her side. "I doubt that vera much. This has been in my possession since I came into maturity." Her expression changed as, together, Spike and Buffy moved forward. "I don't believe it! You're from Earth, aren't you?"

"Yes," Buffy said, frowning. "And where is this?"

"This is Helarth. At least that's what Laird calls it. Before he came, it didn't have a name."

Spike leaned in to Buffy and whispered, "Laird means lord in Scots." To the demon, he said, "Can you take us to this Laird?"

The creature looked off to her left and then to her right, before she shrugged at the vast emptiness. "I'm supposed to be patrolling right now, but—"

"Patrolling!" Buffy got a little closer and the demon lifted up her scythe. "Why?"

"I'm a Slayer. It's what I was born to do." She turned and began walking briskly back to where she'd come from. Over her shoulder, she said, "Laird Duncan will want to know about you two. Follow me."

Buffy and Spike still had to support each other to walk and the going was slow. Before their eyes, the creature, who called herself a slayer, disappeared, but as they approached the spot where they'd last seen her, they saw the gaping hole in the ground and followed the angled path down into the bowels of Helarth.

Despite his internal injuries, Spike held on to Buffy and did his best to stand tall as they moved deeper into the labyrinth of narrow, dirt-covered corridors. They paused when a source of bright bluish light became visible around a turn. A blue liquid glowed brightly in what could only be described as large fish bowls set in the dirt wall intermittently on both sides.

Concerned, Spike glanced down at Buffy, who stumbled as they pitched forward again. The creature had turned another corner and they needed to keep moving or they would lose sight of her. His heart constricted with worry as the scent of fresh blood reached him. Had Buffy survived the biggest battle of her life only to die of blood loss? A muscle in his jaw pulsed with anger at the thought. There was no way he was going to let that happen.

The creature held her hand up to stop them. "Stay here until I call for you." She disappeared from view after Buffy nodded.

Spike didn't like being ordered around, but instead of following after the creature, he went with Buffy to lean against the wall, helping to keep her upright. Spike looked down as Buffy reached for his hand. Warmth spread through him as though he'd downed a bottle of brandy when she clasped her hand in his and gave him a gentle squeeze.

Buffy stared off to the side, waiting for the creature's return. He could see the exhaustion and wariness etched on her features, even in profile.

"We need to tend to your wound before you fall—"

"Shh." She frowned at him and pointed. "Listen."

He cocked his head to the side, focusing all of his energy on his ability to hear. Two voices were barely audible: one, a deep-timbered male voice, the other belonging to the female creature. Before he could get a lock on the words being spoken, the creature poked her head out the doorway and waved them over.

Spike exchanged a look of curiosity with Buffy before helping her to move forward. A brown curtain was pushed aside to allow them entrance. The creature let it fall back in place over the doorway after they entered. Spike sighed at the sight before him, feeling let down. Perhaps he'd been expecting too much, but the deep voice did not match the man who was standing behind a wide desk under a ceiling seemingly filled with the same blue liquid that lit up the hallways, almost like florescent light panels back in their own dimension.

The tall man stared at them as though he hadn't seen a human in years, his piercing blue eyes standing out against a dark bearded face and pitch black hair that hung thick and limp at his shoulders. Spike took note of the black tuxedo with the dingy white shirt underneath. The bow tie was missing, and the collar was open wide. Laird motioned with his hand, indicating a low bench in front of the desk.

"Excuse my manners, but I haven't seen another human in many, many years. Please have a seat." He cleared his throat as they eased down onto the bench. "I'm Laird Duncan, and this lovely lass is Onisal." He pointed at the red creature that still held her scythe as if ready for battle. "You should get back to patrol."

The way Onisal stared at them as she shook her head and spoke in her guttural language put Spike on edge. Buffy tensed beside him.

Laird set his gaze on them, his eyes narrowing as he studied them. "I'll be fine. Do a thorough search of the Earthmouth and report back tae me at the end of yer patrol."

Buffy shifted closer to Spike and asked Laird, "Earthmouth?"

"That is what I call the portal that I'm sure you came through. You did come from the earth dimension, eh?"

"Yes," Buffy said. "We were fighting in a battle at the hellmouth when it happened."

"And yet, you are both not human, which explains how you would know about a hellmouth."

"Buffy is human." Spike wasn't willing to give up any more information than that-not until he knew for sure they were among creatures that were friendly.

Laird shook his head and glared at Spike. "You lie. Onisal has incredible instincts. All the slayers do. She sensed demon in you both." He brought a very pointy stake up from beneath the desk. "I would guess vampires?"

Buffy shot to her feet. "Put that away!" Her words lost some of their weight as she swayed. "You called that creature a slayer, but I'm a slayer."

Laird did not comply, but he did lower his shoulders and take a deep breath. "Then that is why Onisal detected demon in you. Onisal is a demon. The same type that gives you the strength and power tae fight demons on earth. At least I'm pretty sure that's what happened in Africa all those years ago."

"Who are you?" Spike asked, while helping Buffy to sit down again.

"I worked for the Council. I am a watcher." Laird stood then, and Spike felt the need to rise to meet the challenge in the watcher's eyes. "So, the question now is, what are you? Unless things have changed on earth, there is only one slayer at a time, and she's always female. You are clearly not female."

"Thanks for noticing. Name's Spike and—"

"He's a vampire," Buffy said, getting to her feet again. "A good one."

"What?" Laird practically shouted.

Spike groaned, letting his gaze fall on his slayer. "Buffy, did you have to go and tell him that?"

"He's got a—"

"Good vampires?" Laird put the stake down. Spike wanted to take a step back, but he held his ground as the man got that same look on his face that Giles always did when he found something new to investigate. "I've been away a long time, but when did vampires become good?"

"They haven't." Buffy linked arms with Spike. "There's just Spike and one other."

While they discussed vampires with souls, Spike studied the watcher. He spoke with a Scottish accent and used archaic words that would indicate that he was much older than he looked, and yet, the tuxedo appeared to be more modern. Interrupting them, Spike blurted out his question.

"Just how long have you been here?"

Laird glanced down at the stake and picked it up, rolling it back and forth in his hands. "I was investigating the English hellmouth in the year 1799 when it opened. I lost my footing, fell into the hole, and landed not far from the entrance to this underground dwelling." Emerging from his remembrance, the watcher looked up at them. "I've been here ever since."

"How is that possible?" Spike narrowed his eyes at the man. "That would be 204 years ago in our time. Does time have no meaning here?"

"As far as I ken, time moves the same here, but I haven't aged a day since I arrived."

Spike was aware of Buffy leaning against the desk for support. He knew she needed to lie down and rest, but he couldn't rest with unanswered questions. He pointed at Laird's clothes. "Those did not come from 1799."

"How very astute of you tae notice." Laird grinned at him. "You two aren't the first tae cross the portal since I've been here. Twice now, men have come through the portal. They were dead by the time they were discovered. We could not determine if they were dead before or after they came through." He shrugged. "I took their clothes."

Unconsciously Spike gripped his duster. He felt like growling at Laird's deep chuckle.

"Take heart, I willnae be reaving objects from a live—er—undead—being. Yer garments are safe from me."

Spike stole a worried glance at Buffy. "It's been nice chatting with you and all, but Buffy here is in need of some medical attention. I don't suppose you have a first aid kit lying around?"

"I dinnae ken what a first aid kit is, but if you'll let me have a look at yer wounds, I can see about patching you up."

Laird moved towards Buffy, but Spike stepped in front of him and used all his waning energy to grip the man's wrist. Spike kept a passive expression on his face while he twisted the wrist, only letting up when the stake clattered to the ground.

Holding his burning arm, Laird glared at Buffy. "I thought you said he was good?"

Buffy glared at Spike, but it was Spike who spoke. "Good is relative, isn't it? Just bring me supplies, and I'll tend to Buffy."

While he got Buffy settled on the bench again and waited for her to lift her shirt, Spike and Buffy gazed at each other. The serious gaze turned into amused grins as the watcher moved around the room, gathering items and grumbling about insane vampires who actually wanted to nurse a slayer back to health. If the man knew that Spike's nickname used to be Slayer of Slayers, he'd think it was even crazier.

By the time they had Buffy's wounds cleansed and stitched front and back, Spike was ready to drop from exhaustion. His insides itched as they repaired themselves with the burning sensation getting worse. It was as though he'd fallen on a bed of tiny, red-hot needles. He drew blood as he bit his lip to keep from shouting and clawing at his skin. Just knowing that Buffy was concerned for him and understanding what was going on with him made him feel that he could get through it.

She stood on trembling legs, but Spike refused her help to get up from his kneeling position. He didn't want her to tear open the stitches that he'd so carefully applied.

"Is there somewhere we can rest?" Buffy tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and grimaced. "We're exhausted."

"And food for Buffy. She hasn't slept in days, but she also hasn't eaten."

Laird's eyes focused on the way Spike had his arm around Buffy's shoulder and the familiar way Buffy had her arm around his waist. Spike sniffed in disgust. A bloke couldn't even go off to another dimension without having a watcher be there to judge his motives or look down on Buffy for what she might or might not feel about a vampire.

Spike sneered at the man and cleared his throat.

"Yes. Food." Laird went to the door and shouted. "Nessie! Here, please." He turned back to them. "I can even bring the blood of a corvain for you." Touching his neck, he added, "I assume you don't feed off humans?"

Spike scowled. "I've been on a diet of pig's blood, but I'm not sure what a corvain is."

"I can't tell you what the blood tastes like, but it is red, and the meat tastes exactly like lamb."

Another slayer appeared at the doorway. This one was a little shorter than the other, and her eyes were light brown instead of black.

"Sir?" she said before she noticed the two humans. She let out a little gasp when she did see them.

"Dinnae worry yer heid, Nessie. This is Spike and…it's Buffy, eh?" Buffy nodded while smiling at Nessie. "They've come through the earthmouth. They need food and rest. Find a couple of rooms for them. They'll need a jug of corvain blood too."

Her eyes widened. "But only Turoks drink corvain blood."

"Just do as I asked." Laird's furrowed eyebrows added weight to his words, and Nessie was quick to turn on her heel to exit the office.

"We'll only need one room," Buffy said as they started to follow Nessie out. She gave Spike a light squeeze at his waist, and he wanted to kiss her right there.

"How can you sleep with a vampire in yer room?" Laird asked incredulously.

Her eyes swept over Spike's face as she gazed up at him. Her tone was even and steady when she answered the watcher. "I don't think I could sleep without him now."

As soon as Nessie left the room, promising to return shortly with something to eat, Buffy turned to Spike and studied him. She followed his gaze around the small, dimly lit room. There were no windows, and just like every other section of the underground, the walls were made of hard-packed dirt. The bed, big enough for two, was situated in the corner. Spike approached it, but instead of sitting on it, he reached for the glass goblet filled with glowing blue liquid situated on the bedside table.

"How did she get it to glow brighter?" Spike asked as he flicked the clear container. "Did you see her do it?"

Buffy approached the small table and slid open a drawer. "Yeah, she took a stone from here and dropped it in the glass." She reached in to grab a stone, only to hiss in pain when her skin came in contact with one. Concerned, Spike grabbed her hand to inspect the tiny blister now forming on the tip of her index finger. "I'm okay. Those stones are sizzling hot, though."

It wasn't the only thing sizzling hot. Buffy dropped her gaze from where their hands met as Spike took his time releasing her.

"Uh, I guess that's what these tongs are for?" He took the tongs from the drawer, picked up one of the marble-sized stones and dropped it into the glass. The liquid went from neon blue to almost white and washed the room in brighter light. "Huh. Sort of like a reverse dimmer switch."

They both inspected the sparsely decorated room now that the corners were well-lit. A couple of low, benches were off in one corner and a taller box was in another.

Buffy shrugged as she took in the dirt floor and walls and the absence of color save for various shades of brown. "Well, it's not the Hilton, but at least there's a bed. I hope it's comfortable."

He avoided making eye contact by turning to face the bed. "Yeah, it's not b-" Spike whirled around, on full alert.

"Wha-?"

"Shh!" His gaze honed in on a spot by the curtain-covered door. "There."

At first she didn't see it, but within seconds the thin plume of black smoke became visible. She gasped, having seen it before, just days ago. Taking a step back, she stood in front of Spike and put her weary hands up in a show of strength she didn't really have at the moment.

"Go away! You're not getting inside me."

The smoke twirled until it morphed into a form, and then Nessie was standing there with a tray of food.

"Sorry," she said, though her mischievous grin told them that she didn't mean it one bit. "I've brought yer vittles."

Stunned, Buffy watched the demon intently as she moved about the room, setting the tray on the tall box and dragging the smaller ones to it. This is what was inside of her? One of these creatures? Or at least the essence of one. Eyeing the smooth red skin, Buffy managed to smile. At least she knew where her love of red leather came from now.

"I guess that's why you're called Nessie?" As he spoke, Spike helped the demon remove the food items from the tray.

"I don't understand." Nessie's frown shifted into admiration as she got a her first good look at Spike. Almost as if she was mesmerized, she stared into Spike's eyes and let the corners of her mouth turn up in appreciation.

While he talked about the elusive Loch Monster in Scotland, Buffy turned away from them and busied herself by putting the tongs back in the drawer. She had to do something about this jealousy that seemed to rear its ugly head any time a female paid attention to Spike-Anya, Faith, and now a demon, of all creatures.

Spike wasn't her property. They weren't even officially a couple. They had a deep friendship at best. Her hands balled into tight fists. He didn't even think she really loved him.

"And your Laird, he eats these things?" Spike asked Nessie, who nodded.

Deciding she was being stupid, she approached the table and inspected the food. "Looks like mushrooms, potatoes, and some sort of meat."

"Yes," Nessie said. "The corvain meat is very tender. Comes from the herds of Lavidnast. The best there is."

No matter how hungry she was, Buffy was still hesitant to try the food, but she was grateful that she had been given something. "Thank you, Nessie."

With a clipped bow of her head, the demon walked towards the exit and pulled back the brown curtain.

"Wait!" Spike headed for the doorway. "I'm not all that comfortable with the idea that anything can walk in here while we're sleeping. Is there something we can put in front of this opening to keep things out?"

Nessie stared at Spike as if he were bound for the nut house. "Just put the barrier up."

Hidden by the curtain was a small panel to the left of the opening. Nessie gave it a good push and the curtain moved as if a wind had picked up. With a flat palm, she hit her hand against an invisible barrier. "See."

Like an old pro, the demon removed the barrier and left, promising to come back in what she called a night's rest time to show them around.

Buffy moved the curtain aside and pushed the panel. Together, they tested the barrier.

"Does it feel like that when you don't have an invitation?" Buffy asked Spike.

"Exactly. Now, quit fooling around and go eat."

Buffy eyed the table with trepidation. "I will, if you will."

A few minutes later, they sat across from each other, staring at their uneaten portions. Spike had poured himself a cup of corvain blood. And even though it was a nice, deep red like any other blood, he eyed it suspiciously. Buffy had moved the gray mushrooms around with the utensil that came with the plate and had poked at the meat, but she still couldn't bring herself to try it.

Buffy's stomach growled. "We're being ridiculous."

"Yeah." He raised the cup to his lips, but didn't tip it back. He put it back down. "It smells okay… I'd try the mushrooms first. They grow in the dark back home, so I'm sure they're fine to eat here."

She grinned at him, finding the fact that he was trying to coax her to eat when he was clearly concerned about his own fare amusing. "Chicken."

"I am not!" With a challenge in his eyes, he picked up his cup. "On the count of three?"

She picked up her fork and dug into the split potato. "Fine."

"One," Spike said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Two," Buffy said, trying to keep a straight face.

Together they said, "Three."

The potato actually tasted like a potato! It was bland and could do with a little butter and salt, but at least she wasn't gagging. Spike had taken a drink on the count of three, but he hadn't stopped. He was still swallowing. The motion at his neck and the expression on his face awoke parts of her body that she wasn't up to taking into consideration right then. She cleared her throat and quickly took a bite of the cooked meat, which did not taste like chicken or beef. Laird was right. Lamb. Not her favorite meat.

The cup clanked against the box. "That… That is better than pig's blood, but not as good as human." He reached for the jug and poured himself another cup.

After the first quiet meal they'd had in weeks, they were both full and sleepy. Spike admired the Slayer from across the table. Even injured and battle-worn, she was regal and awe inspiring like a goddess. A goddess who was close to falling asleep while sitting up. He stood and held his hand out to her.

"Come on. You need sleep."

Spike tried not to roll his eyes when she stood on her own. Damn independent woman. Instead, he sauntered over to the bed while stifling a wince and shed his duster. He draped it over the bed and sat on the edge, only to jump right back up when he sank into it a little too far.

"What the bleeding hell?"

Still standing by the table, Buffy uncrossed her arms and went to him in alarm. "What?"

He peeled the cover off the bed and tilted his head the side. "This place has no electricity, no carpet, no paint on the walls, but it has a waterbed?"

Buffy leaned over and pushed down on the bed. Sure enough, the blue liquid under a opaque plastic moved languidly.

"I've never slept on a waterbed," she told him.

"Lots of new experiences tonight, then." Spike sat down and took off his boots while Buffy looked on. He stretched out on the bed and took off his belt, not caring where it landed when he tossed it aside. Buffy continued to stand there with indecision clouding her face, as if she were having a heated internal debate. With a resigned and deep sigh, Spike sat up. "I thought you said you couldn't sleep without me, but I'll sleep on the floor if you want me to."

"No!" Buffy ran an agitated hand through her hair. "It's just that…well… You're a vampire and you smell nice all the time. Me, I probably stink now. And you…with your enhanced senses—sorry." She shook her head. "I'll sleep on the floor."

"No you bloody well won't. Get your shoes off…and that little jacket thing too. And then get in bed, where you belong."

He wanted to add "with me" to the sentence, but he thought that might be pushing it a little too far.

"I'd just feel better if I could wash up. Brush my teeth," she said even as she sat down and took her shoes off.

It was such a small thing for him to help her get the thin little jacket off, but Spike felt warm all over as he did it. He enjoyed doing things for her and she rarely allowed him the privilege. Admonishing himself for getting all choked up over something so simple, he forced his lips to form a thin, straight line and hoped his eyes weren't betraying his feelings to Buffy. She seemed lost in her own thoughts though, as she lay down beside him, facing away and on her side. The blanket for the bed wasn't soft enough, so he took his duster and covered them.

Buffy grabbed his arm from behind and tried to wrap it around her, but Spike resisted.

"Your wound. I don't want to hurt you."

"Keep your arm higher up, on my ribcage, and you won't."

Just under her breast. He swallowed hard and repeated the phrase "down boy" a few times in his head until he was smiling and able to relax against her.

"I was fine when I got up during the battle, so I don't understand why it turned so serious," she said under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.

"You were running on adrenaline. Plus, I don't think that bone-jarring landing through the portal helped you either. You'll be fine in the morning."

Her hair smelled divine. And there she was worried about smelling awful. Spike was tempted to kiss the top of her head, but he got a hold of himself and held back. She was in charge. He'd thrown away that right a long time ago. The ache in his chest whenever he thought about what he'd almost done to her reared up again. He let it seep into his bones with the rest of the pain he'd been feeling, though the burning sensation had dissipated once he'd gotten the corvain blood in his system. The itching and dull aches were still there. Spike knew he deserved all the pain that came his way-embraced it even.

"I have no idea how we're going to get back home," she said through a yawn.

"We'll get back there. But not tonight. First we rest and then we'll think things through."

"You and I are not exactly the brains of the operation, Spike. We're the muscle."

Buffy sounded so defeated, but he knew it was just the exhaustion talking.

"You're incredible when you think on your feet. No one can strategize better than you. And my plans may turn sour, but I'm quick on my feet too, yeah? I won't stop until we get you home to your friends and family." Spike gave her a gentle squeeze. "Besides, we have our very own watcher-sized brain right here in Helarth."

With a snort, she said, "Yeah. He's been here for over 200 years. I'm sure he's real close to figuring out how to get back home."

"You've got a point. But there's me and you, and we'll figure it out. Plus, Red on the other side. I'm sure she's working on something right now. Powerful mojo, like she used to open that other portal."

She was quiet for a minute and if her breathing wasn't still fast and steady, he would've thought she'd fallen asleep.

"Did they all make it? Faith was the last one out of the hellmouth. Oh, God, what about Dawn! I've gotta know if she's safe. And Giles, Xander, Willow. All those girls…"

"Stop now. You'll drive yourself around the bend with all those questions, when there's nothing you can do about it either way." He scooted a little closer to her and caressed her arm. "I swear, we'll do everything in our power to get you back home."

Buffy was floating on an inflatable raft in the middle of her cousin's pool in Pasadena. The sun beat down on her, but she wasn't feeling overheated, just pleasantly warm as she bobbed on the surface of the water. She didn't have anywhere to go, and the whole day stretched out before her. She could stay where she was for hours if she wanted, or . . . she could go shopping. The water caressed her arm. It was so wonderfully pleasant, like a lover's hand worshipping her skin.

She opened her eyes and sighed. She had to admit, she'd gone from a wonderful dream to a not-so-bad reality. Spike bit his lip and took his hand away. The arousal was still there in his eyes, clouded now with hesitation. Buffy reached for him as she inched closer, noting how much better her side felt.

"I was having a wonderful dream," she said, trying to ease Spike's angst-ridden soul. "I felt warm and loved, almost like I was back in heaven." She took his hand and put it back on her arm. "It was the perfect way to wake up."

She needed him to stop with the pulling back and the hesitation, but how to tell him, without sounding harsh, without hurting him? She'd been able to do it when goading him into becoming the warrior she needed him to be in the fight against The First. It had worked. The next time she'd seen him, he'd been wearing his leather duster, and he'd already made mincemeat out of the demon that needed to be thrown back in the portal to bring her back.

His hand stayed where she'd put it, but he didn't move it across her skin. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"I meant what I said." Buffy willed him to hold her gaze, even though she was scared out of her mind to bare her soul. "You many not believe it, but I'll find a way to prove it."

"Buffy, you don't know what you're—"

She put a finger over his lips, wishing it were her lips there instead. "Too much thinking, too much talking."

He didn't pull away from her, but he refused to meet her halfway. Buffy was beyond caring about who did what. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his, the bed moving gently beneath them as she put her hand on the back of his neck. It took him all of two seconds to respond, and as his lips moved over hers she let her eyelids slide shut, taking in the long-awaited sensation of whirling, intense, and heated emotions that just kissing him always stirred up.

It was the same, only sweeter than before. Better. More intense, more arousing, because she allowed herself the freedom to love him.

As they parted, she watched him closely, hoping to see some bit of his old self-confidence in his eyes. She would have to be content with the love she saw there instead. For the time being. A thought suddenly hit her and she groaned.

"I probably have the worst breath ever."

Spike smiled then, and her heart did a little leap of joy. If it wasn't love, to feel that good putting a smile on a man's face, then she didn't know what was.

"I didn't notice," was his soft reply.

She allowed him to gather her in his arms. Buffy could have stayed that way with him for hours. Was prepared to stay that way, but there was a tap on the barrier.

"Spike? Buffy? You've slept a night's rest and a half. Laird asked me to find out if you were okay."

After clearing his throat, Spike lifted his head so his voice would carry over Buffy. "We're fine. Just knackered. Give us a sec."

"I'll wait fer you, then."

They shared a moment of solidarity, grinning softly at each other, before they attempted to get out of the swaying bed. As she stood, Buffy tried to stretch, but she found out her limit as her sutures were painfully pulled. While Spike worked on gathering all his leather and putting each piece back in place, Buffy slipped into her shoes and her over-shirt. Wishing she had a brush, she attempted to run her fingers through her hair while ignoring the little stabs of pain it caused her to raise her arms up so high.

"Here, let me do that," Spike said, coming up behind her.

She faced him and eyed the standard black comb in his hand. "Where did you get that?"

She nearly melted when he smirked and let his playful, cocky side show while he shook the duster. "This thing's got plenty of pockets. You'd be surprised at what I can stash in them."

Not even trying to mask the hungry look in her eyes, she gazed at him and thought about all the wonderfulness that was hidden behind his clothing. He was tight and muscled yet compact, as Xander would say—sexy as hell.

"Uh…" Spike shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Turn around, and I'll help you get the knots out."

As soon as they left the room, Nessie ordered them to follow her. Laird Duncan was meeting with the head of one of the demon clans and wouldn't be able to see them for some time, so she led them to Wersh Hall, where most meals were served.

Buffy and Spike hung back together and let Nessie lead by a few feet. Buffy couldn't stop stealing glances at Spike. The blue lights in the passageway enhanced the sharp angles of his lean face, highlighting the fact that he was a vampire, and while this reminder of what he was might have caused her shame for her feelings in the past, now she could only admire his angled features and the way his eyes darted from side to side on full alert.

Spike caught her staring, and from his concerned expression, Buffy could tell that she was letting the fear show. Fear for her heart. She trusted him, but the revelation of how deeply she felt for this vampire still evoked such alarm in her body. It was still hard for her to let someone close, but she also knew that he slowly but surely had gotten closer to her than anyone ever had. Because he loved her enough not to give up.

He leaned in close to her and whispered, "The name of the dining hall does not sound promising. Wersh means bitter or unpleasant."

They followed Nessie into a large open space filled with tables and benches, enough for about thirty people. Nessie noticed the question in the couple's eyes.

"This is the slayer compound. We eat together, we work together, and we train together. However, we usually fight alone."

Spike turned in a lazy circle until he was facing Nessie once more. "Where are the other slayers?"

"It's holiday time." Nessie kept moving, and they followed her across the hall as she continued to speak. "Most of them have gone off to work in the Gladstone mines or on construction of new dwellings. They will all return after a full cycle of the third moon."

They paused in front of another brown curtain and Buffy asked, "Don't you get a holiday too?"

Nessie scratched behind her tiny ear and glanced down at her toes. "Um, I didn't quite pass all the courses. I had to stay."

"Bummer," Buffy said. "Summer school."

Spike snorted and was just about to add something to her statement when a voice from the other room reached them. "Is that you, Nessie?"

They entered one at a time, and Buffy was taken aback by the short demon standing in front of a large pot of bright white water. He looked like a fat version of Yoda, but his voice was much like her grumpy grandpa's.

"I'm not keeping this stuff warm for much longer."

"I'm here, Conrad. Our guests are finally awake, so you can serve whenever you're ready."

Spike chuckled. "I haven't seen a Codger demon in a long time."

The little demon looked Spike over with undisguised disgust. "I've never seen a Turok-Han hiding in the body of a human."

Spike raised his hand to his chest, insulted. "I'm a vampire."

"Hrmph! I may be just the cook around here, but I pay attention when the potentials are having their lessons. Besides, I sense the Turok in you. You cannae put one over on me. A vampire is a half-breed in the Earth dimension. Half human, half Turok-Han." Conrad waved his long spoon in Spike's direction. "I never thought I'd see the night when I'd be serving corvain blood in my hall." He shook his head and turned back to his pot. "Have a seat out there and I'll bring the vittles out."

Spike sat across from Buffy and Nessie and sipped the tepid corvain blood in silence while the slayers from different dimensions exchanged stories and learned about their similarities and differences. He couldn't help but smile each time Buffy shoveled more of the mushy oatmeal-type breakfast into her mouth and grimaced.

"So, you all have different special powers?" Buffy was asking Nessie.

"Well, there are many who can smoke like I can, but not all. Some of my sisters can turn up their body temperature, and anything that touches them will burn. Others can throw up a barrier, like an invisible shield."

"Speaking of smoking," Spike said as he stood and patted down his coat. "I'm going to step out into the passageway for bit." Nessie went to stand, but he held out a hand. "Won't be long. I promise not to wander off. Besides, I wouldn't go out of shouting distance of Buffy here."

Nessie nodded and lowered herself back down while Buffy and Spike exchanged some wordless communication. She trusted him to stay close enough in case either one of them needed the other. Spike strutted off with confidence, and just as promised, he stopped outside the brown curtain in the passageway. He had a little more than half a pack of cigarettes left. Not knowing how long they'd be stuck in this dimension, he decided to ration them out.

He flicked open his Zippo and tried four times to get a flame as his cigarette dangled from his mouth. There wasn't even a spark from the flint. Growling, he tried a few more times and gave up. It didn't make sense. He'd refilled the lighter not too long ago and he'd never had a problem with the flint. There had to be oxygen in the air in order for Buffy and Laird Duncan to breathe. He turned to go back in the hall, but stopped short when he clearly heard Nessie's question to Buffy.

"How can you have a friendship with a Turok? They're ruthless killers with no regard for other species."

Buffy spoke quietly, her voice soft and filled with tenderness, but he could hear every word.

"Spike is different. Even before he fought to get his—more of his humanity back—he was different. He was evil, and he was my enemy, but he felt deeply." She paused, letting a bit of silence hang in the hall. "I think… I mean, he had more of his humanity than most vampires do. And now, he's buried the demon so far down that I sometimes…" Her toned changed, as if she were trying to convince Nessie of something. "Have you ever met someone who just understands you-who you are deep down inside? Someone who is not a slayer?"

Nessie hesitated before speaking. "Yes. There is a Froctor demon that I befriended when I took my last field trip." She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Buffy. "We are very good mates, and it's because of her that I've decided tae make my home with Clan Froctor if I ever pass my training."

As Buffy nodded her head and began to say something, Nessie glanced up and locked eyes with Spike. When the slayer demon sat up straight, Buffy turned and graced him with a shy smile.

"We were just talking about you."

Uncomfortable with the two of them staring at him, Spike patted down his pockets and pulled out the Zippo. "Thing won't light."

"Light?" Nessie said with a tilt of her head. "We have water for light."

"He means fire." Buffy stood with Spike and took the lighter from him. She flicked it a few times and frowned. "Not working."

"That's what I said." Spike took it back and slipped it into the duster before staring at Nessie. "You don't have fire here, do you?" When she continued to look confused, he made a motion with his hand as if he were playing charades. "You know, the bright orange, hot flames that heat things up?"

"No."

"Great." He was going to be stuck for who knew how long with out being able to light up. "You think your laird and master might be ready to give us an audience now?"

"Spike," Buffy said with a frown, gently admonishing him as she went to stand beside him..

"We should be coming up with a plan to get you back to your friends and me back to my cigarettes, not sitting around making nice with the locals."

"Actually," Laird Duncan said, as he entered the hall. He grinned, but only had eyes for Buffy. "Making nice with the locals is a verra good idea, if you hope tae get any help from them."

Spike looked on as Buffy gawked at the man in astonishment. Overnight, the watcher had shaved off his facial hair, cut his hair short, and changed into a different pair of slacks and white shirt. Spike felt like throwing a punch at him. Mostly for putting that look on Buffy's face. It seemed that no matter where he was, someone was always taking her attention away from him.

Laird Duncan held out his arm for Buffy. "Shall we take a stroll up top to clear our heads?"

After a quick nod in agreement, she linked arms with the watcher.

As an afterthought, Laird Duncan glanced over his shoulder. "Your vampire can tag along if he likes. And Nessie, back tae yer training."

"Your vampire," Spike muttered under his breath, as he followed them out into the passageway.

They passed the room they'd been staying in and while Buffy made nice with the man on her arm, Spike made himself useful and paid careful attention to each turn and direction they went until they were climbing the steep incline up and out of the underground.

"It's night again," Buffy said with a pout. "I was looking forward to seeing what things looked like in the daytime." She let go of the man's arm and turned to Spike. "We must have slept a long time."

"There's no sun here," Laird said. "No daylight. This is as bright as it gets, when all four moons are aligned."

Buffy walked over to Spike and stood next to him with her arms folded across her chest. "It looks so empty."

"This area is rather barren, but not all of Helarth is as flat and uninteresting." Laird Duncan watched Buffy with interest, and Spike had to stop himself from stepping between them.

There was just something about the man that set Spike's teeth on edge. "Your office would be a good place to discuss a game plan for getting us back to the Earth dimension."

Buffy took one more look at the view, before she turned back towards the opening. "Spike's right."

Once they were in Laird Duncan's office, he unrolled a map and pointed to a spot in the middle. "We're here. New Scotland. And here," he pointed to a spot not too far away, "is the Earthmouth. I believe this is the key to getting you back. It's where I came through, and it's where you both came through."

"I'm just curious," Spike said, interrupting the man as he strolled around the room, inspecting objects on shelves. "How can you think you might be able to help us get back when you have been stuck here as long as you have? If you were ever going to find a way back, wouldn't you have found it by now?"

The watcher stole a glance at Buffy before settling his direct gaze on Spike. Bingo! The man was definitely hiding something.

"I have never felt any urgency to return to the Earth dimension. There is a whole council of watchers, after all. But in Buffy's case, there is just one."

With animated eyes, Buffy spoke. "Actually—"

"He's right." Spike let his voice rise above normal to drown out Buffy giving away the fact that she wasn't the only slayer. "As far as we know, crossing dimensions does not count for dying, so the world is without a champion." Spike's pointed stare got through to Buffy.

"Uh, yeah," she said, gaining confidence in her words as she went along. "I need to get back as soon as I can."

Laird Duncan hesitated, first looking at Buffy then Spike and back to Buffy. "I'm sure it's possible. Legend here says that thousands of years ago, the Earthmouth was open fer a long period of time. Many demons went through, but it wasnae until three Turok-Han went through that Desnia, a slayer demon, followed. From what I've deduced, Desnia lives on inside of you now." He glared at Spike. "And somehow, when the magic was being performed, one of the Turok-Han bit one of the men in the circle and that is how the vampire came to be."

Buffy seemed interested in all the history, but Spike really didn't care. "I think we should be concentrating on the getting the Earthmouth open and leave the history lessons for another time. Or leave it to your school of slayers, after we're gone."

Spike could almost feel a chill wind with the glare Laird Duncan sent his way. Mentally, the vampire shrugged while struggling to hold back a smirk. Before the watcher could form a retort, Onisal burst into the room.

"Oh!" The slayer demon took a few steps back until half of her body was hidden by the curtain. Her pointed look and the way she seemed to be bursting with information belied her polite words. "Forgive me, Laird. I didnae know you had guests."

In the next couple of seconds, a flurry of silent communication passed around the room. Laird and Onisal having something to hide, and Spike and Buffy agreeing that there was something fishy going on.

Laird took long strides to the curtain and plastering a big smile on his face, he suggested that Onisal go to her chambers for a much needed rest. Then he turned to face them.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to go over some research on my own." He pulled back the curtain in dismissal of them. "Nessie should be in the training room. Find her and ask her to take you to the baths. I'm sure you'd like to wash up."

Buffy perked up at that. "Great!"

Suppressing the urge to growl at the cheerful way she responded to the watcher, Spike gripped her arm and tugged her through the curtain.

Getting the cold shoulder—literally-from a vampire really sucked. Spike let go of her arm as soon as they turned a corner and hadn't said a word since they'd left Laird Duncan's office. She was getting increasingly frustrated, because she wanted to ask him what he thought about Onisal's strange behavior. Now, she had to wade through his strange behavior.

As they neared their room, she reached her breaking point and yanked him into it. Spike stood before her, looking petulant but refusing to make eye contact. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot with a beat any speed metal band would have been proud of.

The scowl on his face as he refused to look at her pissed her off even more, but his one-word question pushed her over the top. "What?"

"What? What!" She took a deep breath. "I think that's my question, mister. What is your problem?"

He did that fluttering eyelashes thing—a surefire clue that he was about to lie.

"I don't have a problem. Well…we have a problem…getting you back home, but other than…I'm right as rain." He looked away, staring at anything that wasn't her. Buffy decided to be patient. If she held out long enough, he wouldn't be able to stay quiet for long. Wasn't in his nature. In a display of temper, he threw his hands up, but quickly put them back at his sides, shooting her a baleful glare. "Forgive me if I'm not Mister Chipper while you make nicey-nice with tall-dark-and-handsome."

"Is—" She turned away from Spike and ran a hand through her hair. "Ugh!" Mumbling to herself, she paced slowly. "And I just got through telling Nessie that he knew me, deep down." She charged at him and gave him a good poke with her index finger. "Are you dense?"

He shrugged. "I guess you think so."

"Didn't your mom ever tell you that you get more flies with honey than with vinegar?"

Sensing that he was going to say something equally dense, she put a hand up. "Just be quiet for a minute."

She stalked over to the curtain, tore it aside, and looked both ways in the passageway before slapping at the lever and letting the barrier shut over the door. She wasn't sure it would keep out Nessie if she decided to go all smoky and sneak into their room, but she hoped so.

With a sigh, she approached Spike, took his hand, and led him to the farthest corner of the room. Even when he was being a jerk she liked being this close to him and had to remind herself she had a purpose.

"I know exactly what I'm doing, and if you thought about it without the green-eyed monster clouding your vision, you'd know it too."

"I'm not…" Spike rolled his eyes heavenward and took a deep breath. "Who am I kidding? I want to step aside with grace, let you do what you want, but I'm not big enough to do it without looking like a berk."

She smiled then, reaching out to touch his cheek. "You have nothing to be jealous of. I see what you see." She sobered and leaned in to whisper. "He's hiding something, and we need to keep our eyes and ears open, to head off any problems he may throw our way." Spike's surprised yet admiring eyes, coupled with the way he bit his lip, had her leaning in closer to him. "I know the man hasn't seen a human female in two centuries. I'm just using that to my advantage right now. To keep his guard down."

With a chuckle, he turned slightly and kissed the palm of her hand. Stepping back, she grinned at him. "But it's kind of nice. You being jealous."

He gave her a gentle push. "Nice? For you, maybe. Embarrassing for me." He waved his hand as if he were swatting at a fly. "And what's with the peppy-girly act when he mentioned washing up? We should be spying on them to see what she was hiding."

"First, the prospect of getting clean appeals, but I was trying to throw him off balance before he thought about how good the chances were that I knew just what Onisal was hiding." As she talked, she lowered her voice to a mere whisper. "We don't have to spy on them. I know what it is."

Spike's interest was piqued now. He tilted his head, his eyes sparkling with the possibilities. "What?"

"My scythe. I could feel the buzz. She must've found it near the Earthmouth."

"Guess it went through when we did?"

She nodded. "I was holding it until the last big jolt, and then we were tumbling into the portal." Determination flooded her being. "I want my scythe, Spike."

"We'll get it. Even if we have to search every inch of this dreary place."

"Won't be that hard to find. I can feel a faint buzz even now. It will be like playing hot and cold. The more buzz, the closer I'll know we are."

"Are you two in there?" Nessie said cheerfully from the other side of the barrier.

Buffy rolled her eyes. The slayer knew they were. "Yes, we're here."

Spike went and opened the barrier for her. The young demon stepped inside and studied them carefully.

"Laird asked me to look for you. He was worried that you might've gotten lost in the maze of passages, because you were supposed to be on your way tae find me. He said something about a bath?"

"Yes!" Buffy gladly jumped on that. "I could really use a hot shower…a bath." She turned her brightest smile on Spike. "We just got detoured for a minute. I swear, Spike can't go five minutes without a kiss."

Nessie's big eyes got rounder at that declaration. Spike stood taller, nodding his head.

"'S true. I can't keep my hands off her."

"Uh, the baths! They're this way."

Buffy stayed alert on the way to the baths, but the buzzing power only faded until it was nonexistent by the time they arrived. By then, she was distracted by the sights before her. Several small pools of various shades of blue and white-lighted water were spread out over the huge cave floor. The ceiling shimmered and sparkled as the water and light reflected against it. While the climate of Helarth was constantly temperate, in this cave, steam rose up and the air was definitely warmer.

"So," Spike said, shifting awkwardly, "there are no private baths?"

"Laird has a private one, but this is where the rest of us bathe."

"And, is there soap, shampoo…a towel maybe?"

"The only word I understood was soap." Nessie approached the nearest pool and used her foot to pry open the lid of a box at the ledge. "Soap boxes are at every pool. The gray bars are for personal use, and the clear bars of soap are for cleaning clothes…though it might be too strong for that flimsy material you wear. Spike's coat might stand up to it."

With a grimace, Spike shook his head. "Spike's coat does not get wet."

Nessie rolled her eyes. "I've never done a Turok's laundry, and I'm not about tae start now. You want clean garments, you do it yerself."

Before Spike could open his mouth and get on Nessie's bad side, Buffy stepped in.

"And how do we dry off?"

"Here." Nessie strode with purpose to the wall of the cave where they'd come in. She pulled a string above her head and a flap opened in the ceiling, followed by a continuous blast of air. It only stopped when she closed the flap.

"That's one big hairdryer," Spike said, impressed.

"I'll just be over here," Nessie said, pointing to an etched bench off to the side near a small, white pool of water. "I'm behind on the laundry."

They watched her walk away, but stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. There were no privacy screens, though a few of the pools were surrounded by slightly raised edges. As weird as it was to bathe in such a place, Buffy was desperate to get clean, so she took the lead and headed as far away from Nessie as she could get. She was sure Spike would follow, but when she stopped at the furthest pool, he was still standing where she'd left him.

She waved him over and only started removing layers of clothing when he started towards her.

"You aren't going to go starkers, are you?" he asked incredulously.

Buffy smiled at him and shook her head. "Just down to my intimates. They need to be cleaned anyway. What about you?"

"Me?" he practically croaked the word. "I'm good. I'll just sit back there."

Eyeing the slayer who seemed to be engrossed in her duties, Buffy whispered, "But we need to talk. And I'm gonna feel weird in here by myself."

Spike sighed. "You know I don't wear uh…intimates."

She really tried not to snicker, but he glowered at her anyway. She was down to her bra and panties now, and as she slipped into the hot water, she looked him up and down, lowering her lashes.

"It's not like I haven't seen it all before."

"Bloody hell!"

He glanced over his shoulder. Nessie stood and strained to see them. Buffy waved at her to let her know all was well. When Spike didn't move, she decided to try another tactic. A challenging dare ought to do it.

"Are you just going to stand there looking like a bashful virgin, or what?"

She busied herself with taking out the soap while he took off his clothes with jerky motions. He mumbled something about virgins-something she was probably glad she couldn't make out. Seconds later, he was in the water, glaring at her from the opposite side of the pool.

The excited flare of his nostrils and the gleam of lust in his eyes were intoxicating. Buffy knew she was administering a form of torture as she lathered up the soap and rubbed her hands over her skin. She never felt more powerful that when he was staring at her like he was now. She slipped under the water to wet her hair and came up slowly, reaching for the soap again.

As soon as she was done with her hair, she crossed the pool to him, straddling his lap as he sat on a small ledge under the water.

"Buffy," he murmured, as he put his hands on her hips to hold her off. "Please. Don't."

She kept her eyes on Nessie, who seemed very occupied with her washing. Buffy couldn't tell yet if the demon had eavesdropping powers or not.

"Shhh." She whispered in his ear, purposely moving her mouth around to make him tingle. "I'm testing her hearing. Just go with it."

A strangled moan escaped from his lips as her silk-covered areas made contact with his skin.

"That's it, baby," she said a little louder, keeping an eye on Nessie. "Just relax and let Buffy wash off all that dirt and grime."

All of her sensitive areas were tingling, her body humming its own tune, clouding her thinking, as the evidence of his arousal pressed against her inner thigh. She willed herself not to move, even though she knew how wonderful it would feel to bring on that friction.

"Are you…done?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Not yet." She raised her voice even louder. "God, you have the softest skin. Could do this to you all night."

"Slayer," he ground out, now panting.

Still, Nessie kept up her washing, not even hesitating. From her reaction earlier to the thought of them kissing, she knew the girl was not that good an actress. She glanced down at Spike, who appeared to be in agony. Getting her hand between them, she grasped his cock and he jerked forward in her hand, almost throwing her off his lap.

Buffy was too turned on to laugh, but she licked her lips and tried not to smile as she slowly pumped her hand over his hardened flesh. She had a hard time speaking, but managed to say, "Just a… little while longer."

"You're killing me."

"Already dead. Plus, this is payback for seducing me on the balcony of the Bronze."

Spike's head lolled back, but he managed to speak. "Payback's supposed to hurt."

"Never said it didn't feel good, or that I didn't enjoy every…last…minute. I'm only paying you back in kind."

He was beyond caring that they were in the company of another demon as Buffy upped her tempo. As Spike squeezed his eyes shut and thrust his pelvis forward, she forgot about Nessie, enthralled with the sight before her. Through the clear, illuminated water, she could see his abdominal muscles constricting and bunching up. He was incredibly sexy, and if she were a more daring person, she would have tugged her panties aside and slipped his cock inside her, right then and there.

Reaching her other hand below, she cupped his balls and squeezed, lightly at first, increasing the pressure as his hips moved faster. She kissed him as he came, just in case he made any noises that would draw Nessie's attention. Spike went still, and she moved her head back to gaze at him. With half-closed eyes, she could see the gratitude mingled with intense relaxation in his eyes. Spike hugged her to him and caressed her back as he set his head on Buffy's shoulder and gave her a feathery kiss on her neck.

It wasn't hard for her to keep her voice to a whisper after such an erotically intimate moment. "I'm going to get into his office tonight and get my scythe."

"Give me a moment. Can't think straight just yet. Blood not exactly near my brain."

She chuckled, and when he loosened his grip on her, she kissed his cheek. Buffy leaned forward and relaxed against him. She could feel her heart beating against his chest. One heartbeat would have to be enough for the both of them, but the thought didn't make her sad or depressed any more.

"We have to be careful," Spike finally said. "Might be best to scope out his schedule—see when he comes and goes. My internal clock is messed up with no day and night cycle."

She tightened her grip on his bicep. "I don't think I can wait. There might be something or it could just be my imagination, but my scythe seems to need me, as much as I need it. It's as if it's calling to me somehow. It's weird. It didn't feel this intense back on Earth."

Spike gazed at her, conveying without words that he'd do anything for her. She stared back at him, caressing his arms. He didn't have to try to communicate for her to know it was the truth. He was willing to take care of her sister, he was willing to stand by and take abuse when he thought she needed to vent, he was willing to fight for his soul for her…he was willing to die for her.

"You need it, we'll get it."

"That was the strangest way to get dry, ever," Buffy said the minute they were in their room with the barrier up.

Spike didn't say it, but it was the best bath he'd ever had. Instead, he agreed that the blast of hot air had been disconcerting. He'd put his jeans on before he got under the air, and while his bare skin was dry in mere seconds, his jeans were still slightly damp.

"Wish it worked on clothes the way it did on skin."

With a cute frown, Buffy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Tell me about it. I really wish I had a change of clothes. Heck, I'd settle for just a fresh pair of underwear."

Watching her go to the bedside table and open the drawer to add a stone to the water lamp, he had an internal debate.

He shouldn't do it. There was a chance he might end up with a broken nose for it, but the part of him that wanted to give her what she wanted at any cost won out. Spike didn't even have to search for it. His lighter and cigarettes ended up in various pockets, but that silky little slip of material never left the deep pocket over his heart.

"Er…you could wear these if you like."

Spike braced himself as she faced him. Confusion quickly turned into a screwed up face of understanding.

"God, Spike, are those mine?" Nodding, he held them out to her. She swiped them from him and tossed them in the drawer. "I can't believe you. I thought you'd gotten past the obsession stage."

He snorted at that. "I'll always be obsessed with you, love. But I've had those for a few years now." Spike couldn't help the satisfied smirk that spread across his face. "Nicked them right out from under soldier boy's nose, too."

Buffy smiled back at him for a second until a thought occurred to her. She opened the drawer and pulled them out to inspect them. "Please tell me you didn't get them from my hamper."

"Got them from a drawer."

Tentatively, she raised the material to her face and sniffed. "Smells like you."

"Hey! I promise you, I've never worn those."

She giggled, and even though his feathers had been ruffled, he was glad to see a sign of joy from her. "Sorry…but—" The giggles turned into full out laughter. "Oh, God. The picture in my head." Another fit of laughter hit her before she could speak again. "With you in n…n…nothing but this thong."

Still giggling, she sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside her. Spike sat, drinking in her radiant face.

"It's nice to see you smile. Doesn't happen that often."

In mid-reach to touch his face, she halted and hissed in pain.

"Is it your wound?"

"Kind of," she said while lifting her shirt for him to see. "I've healed faster than normal—must be this place—but now the stitches are annoying. Every time I stretch, they pull."

"We'd better get those out then." He took out a pocketknife and wiped the blade on his jeans.

"You weren't kidding when you said you had a lot of stuff hidden away."

"Old habits die hard. The way Dru and me lived, we never knew when we'd have to leave in a hurry. Now sit still. I'll make this quick."

He felt her eyes on him as he snipped the stitches open and tugged on each suture until they slipped out of her skin.

"Do you ever miss her?"

"Who, Dru?"

"Yeah."

Absently, he rubbed her now smooth skin. She wouldn't even have a scar.

"Sometimes I get nostalgic when I think of all the places we've been together, but mostly, I'm relieved to be free of her." Buffy nodded in understanding, so he went on. "I mean, if I ran into her now, I'd beg her to leave, because there's no way I could dust her. And she'd go even more insane than she already is if she figured out I had my soul."

Buffy glanced down at her clasped hands. "I can't believe you would let her go on killing."

Agitated, Spike stood. "At least I don't make out with my exes just hours before starting something with someone else."

When she refused to look up and take the bait, Spike deflated. He sat back down and waited for her to say something. Anything.

"Have we ever started, Spike? 'Cause it seems like we've always just been."

"Uh—"

"I regret kissing Angel." She raised her head and boldly held his gaze for a few seconds. Mumbling as she shook her head, she added, "Cookies-schmookies."

"I'm not following you, Summers."

Not paying attention to him, she stared off in space. "Now that I've had time to think about it…"

Confused, Spike tilted his head. "About what? Schmookie-cookies?"

Buffy gave him a light slap on the thigh. "No, of course not." Her expression softened and her hand smoothed over his jean-clad leg. "I know you were willing to leave when you thought The First wasn't through with you yet. I asked you to stay and you did, but what if when you'd asked for the amulet, I'd told you to leave and go put together a second defense, just in case The First defeated me?"

"That's a stupid question."

With a squeeze to his thigh, she frowned at him. "I know the answer. I just wanna hear you say it."

"There's no way in heaven or hell," he said, covering her hand with his, "that I'd leave you to face the fight without me by your side. You're strong, and you don't need me to fight your battles for you, but I'd die before I'd see you lose."

Nodding firmly, she placed her other hand on top of his. "When Angel showed up with the amulet, he assumed it was meant for him. It took me all of two minutes to convince him to leave. To go be a second front, just in case. And this was before he knew you had a soul."

Spike cringed. "Why did you have to tell him?"

"Sorry, it just came up later in conversation, when he was complaining about being able to smell you all over me."

"Well, that's a bit of all right then," he said while raising a brow and gracing her with his trademark smirk.

"Anyways… Thinking about all of that, I came to a conclusion. Angel and I are not in love with each other. We were both in love with what we once had—for like, five minutes when I was in high school."

It was hard for him to see straight right then, he was so pleased with her. Spike got his hands free and cupped her face. Softly, not holding any of his emotions back, he whispered, "She's all grown up now."

"Now do you have faith in me?" She gripped his forearms, holding his hands to her cheeks, and fixed him with an unwavering stare. "Will you believe me when I say I love you?"

Words failed him. He swallowed hard and nodded. As long as he existed, he'd always remember this moment—the very second when he truly felt loved by a woman. And she was the most incredible woman in any dimension.

As she leaned forward to kiss him, he became consciously aware of the fact that Buffy was coming to him. Like a dehydrated man at a watering hole, Spike kissed her back with abandon. There was so much joy bursting out of his heart, such as he'd never experienced before. If he were Angel, his soul would be departing, only Spike could never hate her, never let the evil overtake him again. He'd loved Buffy without the soul, and he loved her just as deeply with it.

Soon, their joyful kissing turned urgent, intense and sexually charged. It didn't take them long to help each other out of their clothes. Even damp denim couldn't get in the way of their lovemaking. Buffy's hands were all over him and for the first time since he'd gotten his soul, Spike felt as if he had every right to touch her in return.

He caressed her everywhere, reveling in the precious sighs escaping her kiss-swollen lips.

The movement of the waterbed underneath them matched the tempest of emotions within them, the water rolling and slapping under the plastic cover. Spike entered her achingly slow and Buffy hugged him to her. The connection they had, the love shared between them, was so intense that it took them a few minutes to realize the bed wasn't cooperating with the rhythm they were trying to set.

Her tender smile as they paused to scoot down the bed so they could use the frame for traction warmed his heart, but her wriggling hips and gripping hands that pulled him back into her got him revved up again.

It took just minutes before they were fighting with the bed again. With a frustrated growl, Buffy pushed him off, and he stretched out on the bed as she stood and yanked the bed cover until she had it spread out on the ground.

He raised a brow at her. She bit her lip and tilted her head.

"It's not like we're unfamiliar with the ground," she finally said.

"True. We're old friends."

Spike stood and put his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. When she started kissing his neck, he went a little weak in the knees.

"I love when…hmm…when you do that."

"What? This?" Buffy sucked on the skin just below his ear and jaw line before getting her tongue involved. Every nerve in his body perked up, and her hands on his back and ass were causing goose bumps to rise over his flesh. He stumbled, and Buffy let out a soft laugh that tickled the wet skin on his neck. She reached up and caressed his cheek, saying, "I think you should lie down."

He hugged her for a second before letting go to study the blanket on the floor.

"How do you want me?"

"On your back."

Once he was on his back, he nearly lost control at the sight of her. Her glorious, toned body shone in the lamplight as she straddled his hips. Leaning forward, she placed her hands on either side of his head and continued to kiss his neck. Spike tried to grab her hips, to guide over his erection, but she teased him, moving languidly as she rubbed against him.

She brought her attention to his mouth, their tongues darting and circling until his arousal was so intense he thought he might go mad or combust. Buffy took her lips from his, sat up and gazed at him, her eyes shining brightly with both sexual tension and tenderness as she spoke.

"I need you—love you. I'm complete when I'm with you."

"Christ, Buffy. I love you so much…" He didn't want to choke on his words, didn't want to tear up.

He was beyond caring when she poised herself over him and sank onto his cock. The little moan she let out stoked his fire. He gripped her hips, and together they controlled the rhythm of their lovemaking. Closing his eyes, Spike concentrated on her hands as they moved over his chest before she fell forward to give him a kiss.

Buffy loved him. And after so long without a physical connection, he couldn't get enough of her. He felt the intense need to drop his fangs, to go into game face, and to mark her neck. He fought it even as he embraced the need, because he knew what he was and that she was okay with it. She was his. He didn't have to cajole, didn't have to manipulate or push his will on her.

Buffy changed tempo, speeding up her movements. He peered through half-closed eyes and marveled at her beauty. With closed eyes, she threw her head back and slammed down on him repeatedly.

"Yeah… Yeah, love. Just like that. Feels so good."

He was rewarded with another moan and the first muscle spasms. It was good to know that she still got off on a little dirty talk. His own pleasure intensified, but he tried to hold off for her. What little control he had flew out the door when she started making tiny guttural sounds in her throat. Gripping the back of her head, he pulled her down for a bruising kiss and moved with her, grinding his hips to match her speed. Just when he thought he was going to explode, she moaned and fell on him. Spike gripped her hips and slammed up into her a few more times, trying to stretch out her pleasure before he let go with a moan of his own.

The beautiful stillness that came after overwhelmed him. Her heart was still pounding erratically, but she stayed where she was, breathing heavily and holding onto him as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. She'd never stayed with him…after…before, so he was at a loss for what to do next. Tentatively, he lifted his arms and caressed her back, but when Buffy didn't protest or get off him, he kissed the top of her head and continued to love her with his hands.

"Do you wanna get in bed?" he asked, after a few minutes had passed and her breathing had gotten more even.

"Yeah."

Buffy stood, and he took her hand and let her pull him up. A shy smile graced her lips as she stretched out on the bed and watched him through half-closed eyes. There was no way to be graceful when he joined her, and he chuckled as his weight had her tipping toward him. Spike gripped her arm to hold them steady, but changed his mind and let her fall onto him so he could give her a tender kiss. They broke apart and he allowed himself to just gaze at her. He loved it when her hair was out of place and her cheeks were pink with color after a vigorous go.

She glanced down at their entwined hands and bit her lip.

"I'm going to need another bath."

Lying down, he gathered her to himself and covered them with his coat. "We know where it is now. Let's rest a bit and then head back there."

"Sounds like a plan."

Placing feather-soft kisses on his neck, she wrapped her arm around him and sighed. Spike sucked in a breath and pressed against her.

"Keep that up and you'll be getting even stickier before you can get to that bath."

She let out a soundless laugh, the burst of air hitting his neck and her stomach muscles clenching against him. "I sure hope so."

He gripped her tighter and pulled her up for a wet kiss. Already feeling the stirrings of arousal, he deepened the kiss as her hand went to his neck to pull him closer. If he had his way, it would be a long time before they headed toward the bathing room.

Holiday on Helarth

Chapter Seven ~ Sixteen

Buffy brought the spoon to her mouth and stared past it, letting her gaze fall on Laird Duncan across from her at the dinner table. She wanted to observe him without detection, but was finding it difficult with the man continually staring at her as if she were a swimsuit model. The only time he took his eyes off Buffy was when Spike would reach over and take something off her plate.

She smiled at the vampire now as he chewed thoughtfully on a slice of bland mushroom. He'd been offered blood, but declined it while everyone else was eating. She loved how he got a kick out of confounding others with his actions. Laird shook his head and turned his attention back to Buffy.

"So, you were fighting an army of Turok-Han and the amulet just started glowing?"

"Sort of," Buffy said after she swallowed another bite of potato. "Spike was wearing it."

Spike snapped out of his intent staring at Onisal, who had been shoveling her food in with gusto. "Uh, yeah. The amulet went crazy, a crack in the ceiling opened up, and a beam of sunlight hit it. Next thing I know, I'm giving off the light of thousands of torches, and the Turoks were bursting into dust as soon at the light hit them."

Laird Duncan turned to Onisal and nodded. "That explains where all the Turok-Han went."

"We'll have to send a message to the other slayers and let them know they can call off the search," Onisal said.

Nessie cleared her throat and tapped Buffy on the shoulder. "You should have seen it. The keeper of the dungeon came barging in here a few weeks ago, talking crazy about a legion of Turoks disappearing from locked chambers. That they somehow had escaped unnoticed."

"We didn't believe him," Onisal added, "but I journeyed tae the dungeon and saw it with my own eyes."

"Unfortunately, we've had tae end training early and send the young slayers off tae work the mines with other volunteer species, in place of the Turoks," Laird said, frowning. "We gathered the last of the Turok-Han many years ago and they had been put to work. We'll have to come up with another plan for how to keep the mines going and the under-dwellings dug out, because school will be in session soon."

Spike glared at Laird. "So, the Turok-Han were slave labor?"

"We had no choice but to confine them and put them to work," Laird said, staring right back at Spike without an ounce of shame.

Onisal touched her watcher's arm in a show of solidarity. "Many of the demon species here on Helarth dinnae get along with each other. Territories have been mapped out and with the slayers' presence amongst the segregated demon clans, we are able to keep peace. The clan of Turok was the only one to refuse to comply. Their bloodlust is just too strong. If we left them to roam free, our Corvain herds would be diminished and many losses would occur in the other clans."

"They are dumb creatures, only existing for their next kill," Laird said, glaring at Spike. "We could have rounded them up and done away with their kind, but we dinnae do that. Instead we gave them purpose."

Buffy could feel the animosity coming off Spike in waves beside her. After the pleasant evening they'd spent together in their room, she didn't want to end on a bad note, so she spoke up to steer the conversation away from the subject.

"This dungeon… There must be a portal—an Earthmouth—located there as well, right?"

"Yes. We dinnae know that at the time," Laird said with a nod.

"We have more than one option to get home," Buffy said to Spike. "That's good."

Not trying to be discreet, Spike took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "It's very good."

She'd been dealing with enough baddies over the years to recognize the sheer rage in Laird Duncan's eyes as he watched them, but she filed the thought away and smiled at Spike.

Laird cleared his throat. "I've been doing some research, going through my journals. It looks as if you two will be stuck here for a little while."

Sending him a withering glance, Spike asked, "And why are you so sure of that?"

"Each time someone or something has come through the Earthmouth, it's happened during a perfect alignment of the four moons, including when you two came through."

Onsial nodded her head. "And according to the legend passed down about Desnia, it was during a perfect alignment that the Earthmouth opened. Only that time it was said to have stayed open for six full cycles.

"When is the next alignment?" Buffy asked, hoping that it would be soon, even if she was enjoying her time alone with Spike. She had to know if Dawn was okay.

Laird hesitated, stealing a glance at Onisal, before answering, "Sixteen nights from now."

Buffy was about to ask if they had any ideas on how to open the Earthmouth when Laird firmly changed the subject.

"How is Nessie's training coming along, Onisal?"

Onisal glared at the younger slayer from across the table while Nessie focused on her plate, pushing the food around beside Buffy. She mumbled, "I don't learn well when I'm bein' shouted at."

"Insolence," said Onisal with a growl. "This is what I have to put up with. And she wonders why she's still here and nae out there wielding her scythe."

Buffy couldn't help but have empathy for Nessie. "What do you still need to work on?"

With a shrug, she said, "I don't know. Ask Onisal."

"She's impulsive and has slow reflexes." Onisal tore off a piece of Corvain meat and shoved it in her mouth.

"It would help if you actually tried to teach me something once in a while."

"Enough grumbling, Nessie!" Laird slammed a fist on the table and glowered at the slayer. "I will nae tolerate blaming others fer your own shortcomings."

Buffy had to bite her tongue to stop from butting in and telling Laird Duncan off. It seemed as if Spike could sense her tension, because he reached under the table and gave her knee a squeeze. The satisfaction on Onisal's face as Nessie stood and stomped out of the hall made Buffy want throw something at the older slayer.

"My apologies," Laird said, as he watched Nessie disappear from sight. "She's been a handful since she came tae us."

"So," Spike said, dragging out the word while he stretched and put an arm around Buffy's shoulder, "let's get back to discussing how we're getting out of here."

Buffy inched closer to him on the bench and avoided Laird's angry stare. "Yeah, let's do that."

Laird continued to glare at them while Onisal shifted uncomfortably beside him. His words were clipped and brief when he finally decided to speak. "The next step is tae find a catalyst. Something that would open the Earthmouth on the next night of alignment. I'm working on that now." He stood and addressed Onisal. "I'm going tae my study tae do some research. You should start your patrol."

Spike stood when Onisal did. "We should go with her. We need to get out, get some fresh air, see some of Helarth."

"I advise against it," Laird said as Onisal nodded her head in agreement. "There are some species of demons that you would be unfamiliar with, and it could be very dangerous. Plus, Onisal will be more alert when she's alone."

Buffy pushed the bench back and got up to protest. "We'll go crazy here without something to do. Spike and I can help, really."

"Why don't you two head down to the training room and work off some of that boredom?" Laid said, framing it as a suggestion, but clearly conveying with his eyes that it was a command.

"Maybe you can patrol with me tomorrow night, after Laird and I map out some sections that are less dangerous. I could give you a tour," Onisal said.

"Fine," Buffy said, deciding that it might work to their advantage if Laird and Onisal thought they were occupied for the night. "I am feeling a bit restless and a good workout will do me some good."

"Shhh," Buffy said over her shoulder while prying Spike's hands off her hips.

She turned in the dark passageway to plant a kiss on his lips. They'd kept themselves busy in the training room for hours, taking turns sparring and engaging in more gentle foreplay. They were both wound tight, but sticking to the plan was what they'd agreed on. Plenty of time had passed, and they were sure Laird Duncan would be in his private quarters by now.

"Focus," Spike said, his eyes glazed over with lust. "You make it so difficult when I have to walk behind you, and I can see your arse swaying back and for—"

"Stop!" she whispered, trying not to laugh. "We'll check out his study, see if we can find a journal or notes. Something, anything. And then we'll do a walk around to see if I can sense my scythe."

"And then we'll go back to our room and get in bed, yeah?"

"Yeah." The one-word reply came out breathlessly, and she kissed him again, letting herself enjoy the new turn their relationship had taken. When she broke off the kiss, she slapped his shoulder and clamped down on it. "Now, focus."

"Yes, Mum."

Around one more curve in the passage and they stopped near the brown curtain to Laird Duncan's study. Spike shook his head to indicate that he didn't detect a heartbeat, so she tentatively pulled the curtain aside. The room was well lit, and once she realized no one was in it, she slipped inside with Spike close behind her. Spike fumbled at the opening until he found the lever and within seconds, the barrier was up with a whoosh.

They communicated silently with their eyes only as they each took a side of the study and moved things with care, making sure to put each item back where they'd found it before moving to look at something else.

Buffy was inspecting a shelf with books and small objects when Spike made a noise in his throat. Turning quickly, she gasped when she saw the amulet swinging from its chain and Spike held it far away from him and over the desk.

Keeping his voice to a whisper, Spike said, "I wonder if he was ever going to tell us about this?"

As he went to slip it in to his coat pocket, Buffy hurried to him, shaking her head.

"Don't. Put it back. Exactly how you found it." Spike frowned and began to protest. She glanced behind her, hoping that no one had heard them in the room and then lowered her voice. "He can't know that we know he has it. That is the catalyst. We need that sixteen days from now."

Reluctantly, Spike put the trinket back in the drawer he'd found it in and stared at her expectantly. "What now?"

"We found what we came here for. Let's not push our luck. We should go search for my scythe."

With a curt nod, he rounded the desk and led the way, opening the barrier and holding the curtain for her. Closing her eyes, Buffy stood in the passageway and concentrated. There was a faint buzz in the air, but which way to go? She turned left and took one step at a time, waiting to see if the buzzing would gain or lose intensity. Positive she was going the right direction, she waved Spike to her, and they slowly made their way down one passage after another, going deeper into the underground compound.

The energy only she could feel was singing to her now, buzzing so strongly she could almost feel the handle in her hand. She pointed at the dirt wall to the right. "I'm sure it's on the other side of this wall, but I don't see a way to get to it."

Spike inspected the wall, but there didn't seem to be another passageway with a curtained door. He walked off and turned left, out of sight, only to back track a second later.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, coming to him.

He didn't have time to answer before Nessie rounded the same corner and gasped in surprise to see them.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Um," Spike said as he glanced at Buffy, "we were bored, so we decided to take a stroll."

Buffy got over her initial shock at seeing Nessie just turn up and finally noticed the extra brown garments on the slayer in training.

"Have you been out?"

Nessie shuffled her feet and stared at the ground before meeting Buffy's gaze with pleading eyes. "Don't tell them. I won't say anything about you being in this section, if you promise not tae to tell them you saw me come in."

"Out for a stroll, too, were you?" Spike asked, amused by the slayer's nervous pleas.

"I was at the Gathering Hall." Nessie slumped against the dirt wall in the passageway. "Laird Duncan declared it off limits to slayers still in training, but I love the music and the dancing. And it's nice to chat with the other demon species that have rights to the hall." Nessie watched them with hopeful eyes. "Please don't tell them. I'll be sentenced tae more training time if you do."

Spike put on that trust-me smile and patted Nessie on the shoulder. "It's okay, pet, we'll keep your secret. But this Hall sounds like the only entertainment you've got around here. Perhaps we can come with you next time?"

Nessie shrugged, looking at Buffy who nodded in encouragement, before focusing on Spike again. "I am going again on the morrow. You both can come with me."

"Great!" Spike gently guided Nessie from the wall. "We should get back to our quarters before we're found out."

As soon as they got back to their room with the barrier up, Buffy turned to Spike, wanting to talk to him. He pulled her in close and gave her a mind-melting kiss that actually made her weak in the knees.

"Mm, that was nice."

Spike brushed the hair out of her face and stared at her with adoration. "God, I love kissing you."

Buffy sobered as she thought of their meeting with Nessie. "Should we be going out dancing tomorrow?"

He shrugged and brushed a bit of dirt from her shoulder. "We've got days to figure out how to get your scythe and you said so yourself, we can't take the amulet too soon or he'll get suspicious. Why not have a little fun while we wait?"

Watching as he shed his coat, Buffy sucked in her cheeks and admired his well-defined arms. "I think we should start having some of that fun right now."

Spike came to her and gave her a sensual hug as he guided her to the bed. "You have the best ideas, love."

tbc

They could feel the beat beneath their feet before they could hear the strange music as they approached the underground entrance to the club, two nights after Nessie had told them about it. Spike hadn't left Buffy's side since they'd exited the underground of the slayer compound thirty minutes before. She took one more look at the starless and cloudless sky before following Nessie down the steep path towards the Gathering Hall.

"Just stay close tae me and I'll get you in," Nessie said as they approached another slayer wielding a scythe under a blue globe of light. "Greetings, Flor. I've brought friends."

If it were possible, Flor stood even taller than she had before and narrowed her eyes at Buffy and Spike.

"They be like our Laird. Where did they come from?"

"It's fine. Laird Duncan knows they're here. In fact, they're his honored guests."

Still gawking at them, Flor used her scythe to pull back the curtain to allow them entrance. Buffy stood with Spike right behind her and took in the scene. She turned to Spike with a grin lighting up her face. "Helarth's version of the Bronze."

"Yeah," Spike said, as he scanned the large, dark nightclub. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but the Bronze had better music."

Nessie stopped moving to the beat and frowned at Spike. "Hey. I like this music."

"Don't worry about him. You wouldn't believe the type of music he thinks is good," Buffy said with a chuckle.

They were getting curious glances from the other customers now, and as a spiny blue demon approached them, Spike pulled Buffy to him with a hand on her waist until their hips touched.

"I see you've brought those visitors you were talking about last night, lass." The demon smiled at them. "Introduce us."

Spike, Buffy, this is Mard, the proprietor of the Gathering Hall."

"Pleasure to meet you," Mard said. He glanced over his shoulder at the quiet demons who were paying close attention to their exchange. "Don't mind them. Once they know I'm glad tae have you here, they'll go about their business."

Sure enough, after they shook hands with the demon, the crowd went back to enjoying their evening out, only stealing glances at the humanoids every now and again. Mard left them to handle business, wishing them a good time. Nessie waved at a Froctor demon at the other end of dance floor.

"There's my friend. I'm just goin' tae say hello."

Buffy turned to Spike and shrugged. "Guess we're on our own."

He leaned over and kissed her. "That's just how I like it. I'd offer to buy you a drink, but I'm not too sure what we'd get…or what I'd pay with."

"We could dance," she said hopefully, even though the driving primitive music was not all that good.

"How 'bout you dance and I'll sway along with you. I'm not much for prancing around on a dance floor, but I'm more than willing to hold you close. Any excuse to get my hands on you, really."

Letting out a breathy laugh, Buffy grabbed his hand and pulled him out on the floor. Even though the beat of the music had demons around them bouncing around, he got his arms around her waist, and she put her arms around his neck. They danced like two teens on prom night until a demon bumped into them.

"Oh. Pardon me," the creature said, before he went back to making the jerky movements that passed for dancing on Helarth.

Spike chuckled and pulled her close again. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I wish we had some nice music," she said.

Spike's chest starting vibrating as he hummed a tune. She smiled against his leather coat and hugged him tighter while thinking about the first time he'd tried to tell her he loved her. The tune he was humming now was definitely not a Ramones single.

"What are you humming?"

He cleared his throat. "You have to guess."

"I'm not good at guessing games," she said with a pout she knew he couldn't see.

"Try. If you don't get it after a few seconds, I'll sing some of the words."

A few seconds passed and she still couldn't figure it out. It was familiar, like something her mom probably played often when she was a kid, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember.

"Something about light?"

"You're on the right track," he said before continuing to hum.

"Hint."

"Finally a chance to say hey I love you…" He hummed a few more bars and when she still hadn't gotten it, he sang, "'Cause you light up my life. You give me hope to carry on…"

"Oh my God!" She laughed. "'You Light Up My Life'! My mom loves that song. It's so cheesy."

"Hey, now, it's a great love song, and I'm over here trying to provide the entertainment."

"Oh, Spike." She tried not to giggle as she kissed his cheek. "You're totally entertaining. Really."

It wasn't long before Spike was tempted to play a game similar to pool with a bunch of tough looking demons. Buffy sat on a stool with her back against the wall and marveled at how fast he picked up new things. Soon he was strutting around the table, talking big, and calling each of his shots. He was so engrossed in beating the demons, he didn't even notice when they started to get hostile towards him.

Buffy did.

Every time Spike made another shot, the leader of the group shot daggers with his orange eyes in Spike's direction. The other demons picked up on Orange-Eyes' animosity and soon, they were circling Spike. After sinking the last polished stone, Spike stood tall and proud, looking to Buffy for some "go Spikes," but instead, she grabbed his hand and tried to yank him out of the bar. He resisted and grabbed the parchments that stood for cash, stacked at one corner of the table, and shoved them in his pocket.

"Won fair and square," he said, sneering at the leader.

"We should probably go," Nessie said, as she caught up with them.

"He's not going anywhere," the leader said, getting in Spike's face. "He's got tae give us a chance tae win our money back, including the fiver Qui'dep spotted him tae get started with."

Spike fanned the papers out and pulled out one with a five on it. "Here, Qui'dep. Thanks, mate."

Mard approached them, his eyes hard as steel as he talked with the leader. "There'll be no fightin' in my establishment, boys. Unless you want to lose rights to the Hall. You know the rules. Flor knows them too. Don't you, Flor?"

"I sure do." Flor spoke from just inside the door.

She held up her scythe ready to do battle, but the demons backed off instantly, murmuring about unfair advantages. Buffy still thought it would be best to leave, and Nessie seemed just as eager to get out of there.

"Come on, Slayer," Spike said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "aren't you itching for a good fight?"

Buffy rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, but couldn't help how the edges of her lips turned up. "No. I'm itching to get home and go to bed."

"Now you're really talking my language," he said, turning and heading for the exit.

"I'm confused," Nessie said as the hurried to catch up to them, "haven't you both been speaking English the whole time?"

Unable to contain a snort and a short laugh, Buffy shook her head. "Spike speaks a language all his own. Come on, we'd better hurry before he finds more trouble."

As soon as they were out on the surface, Nessie grabbed them both by an arm and tugged. "Run!"

"Wha—" Spike broke off his own sentence when he saw the gang of demons rushing towards them.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy stood her ground for a second longer, but when Spike tugged on her shirt, she turned and ran with him. Nessie was already a few feet ahead of them. It felt good to run, to get some exercise. She took in deep gulps of air and felt more energized with each one. By the time they were around a hill and stopped to take a break, the demons had given up. Nessie went back to make sure they still weren't being followed and came back, nodding her head.

"They're gone."

"Now that's what I call a night out." Spike grinned like a madman while Nessie glared at him.

Buffy wanted to be angry at him, wanted to frown and look down on him, but she just couldn't. It had been fun. And just like him, she was itching for a good fight, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud.

"Come on. We'd better get back before we're missed." Nessie got up, expecting them to follow her.

Spike and Buffy held back, still grinning at each other. She approached him as he sat on a rock, and pushed her way between his knees.

"Can't you go anywhere without causing a scene?"

"Guess not. Besides, where's the fun in that?" He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with merriment.

Instead of giving him an answer, she rose up on her toes and gave him a sound kiss. "Let's go. We don't want to get lost out here."

As they walked, they could see Nessie far ahead, never slowing her steps, but not speeding up either. For the first time since they arrived on Helarth, they could speak freely.

"I think you should wait until tomorrow to ask Nessie," Spike said.

"Good idea. She's probably not in the mood to do anything for us right now. I'll try to get her alone after breakfast."

Buffy entered their room and paused just inside when she realized Spike was fast asleep on the bed. Quietly, she turned and put the barrier up before approaching him. She'd been following Nessie around all evening, trying to find a moment alone with her. By the end of the night, Spike had decided to go back to the room and wait for her there, knowing that Nessie would feel more comfortable without him there.

Onisal had run Nessie ragged with chores and training and then more chores. Buffy had found her alone, finally, in the bathing room, with a pile of garments to be washed. Buffy was eager to share with Spike the things she'd learned, but she loathed the idea of waking him up.

Spike was on his side, his duster loosely covering him to his shoulders. Her hands itched to run through his hair. He was so still and not alive, yet she was deeply in love with him, faults and all. If she kissed him, would he wake up? Buffy bit her lip to keep from laughing. What a reverse fairy tale that would be. The girl kisses the villain turned hero, and he wakes to live again.

His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her, a slow smile graced his face as he lifted up on his elbow.

"Sorry 'bout that. Must have dozed off."

"I was going to let you sleep."

Spike sat up and patted the spot beside him. "Did you get anywhere with Nessie?"

Just that little gesture of familiarity made her feel all warm inside. She was so glad he was here with her. Doing this all alone would have made her go crazy. Just thinking about the others back home was enough to drive her mad. She needed to get back there and make sure everyone was all right.

"Yes. She's agreed to show us how to get into the weapons room, and we are going to help her with her training."

"Great. When do we see this weapons room?"

"Tomorrow. After last meal, we'll all sneak into the training room and put her through her paces. Then, Nessie will make sure Onisal and Laird Duncan are sleeping before she takes us to the weapons room."

"And you're sure Nessie is not in on it with the others?" Spike asked while absently rubbing Buffy's shoulder.

It was hard to concentrate when he was making her feel so good. "Yes. I'm sure—ooh, a little harder."

Urged on by Buffy's reaction, Spike got on his knees behind her, trying to balance on the waterbed and pull her top over her head at the same time.

"Spike, are you trying to get me naked," Buffy asked while lifting her arms.

"Just the way I like you, love. 'Sides, I can do a much better job with my hands without the clothes in the way."

With a sigh, she relaxed, concentrating only on his magical hands and the sensations he was drawing out of her body with every squeeze and caress.