Chapter Three – First Night
Spike grinned at the sight of the petite blonde huddled to one corner of the mattress. Every few minutes she sent him a glare that only made his smile wider.
“It’s so unfair that they’re making us share,” Buffy suddenly burst out.
“It’s just what they’re used to,” Spike replied, shrugging. “Besides, Ruby said it was the only room free anyway.”
“I suppose,” Buffy grumbled, pouting slightly, and damn if that didn’t make Spike think things he shouldn’t.
“It’s not so bad though, is it, Slayer?” he asked, “The bed’s plenty big enough. No need to worry ‘bout offending those sensibilities of yours.”
Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, but didn’t reply.
Spike sighed, and leant his head back against the hard rock wall. As was beginning to be a pattern in this place, the room they’d been given went against all his expectations. It was little more than a large hole hewn into the chalky rock. A wooden cot with a lumpy double mattress filled most of the room, and several cubbyholes lined the walls.
Squeezed into the narrow passage that ran alongside the mattress was a rickety desk and wooden chair, and an ancient-looking radio sat atop the table.
“I don’t get this place,” Buffy said, breaking the tense silence. “When I first saw Roman and the others, I thought… I dunno, that we’d gone back in time or something. But they have radios and machines and stuff…”
She trailed off, and looked at Spike pointedly, as though expecting an explanation.
“Don’t look at me, love,” he said, “I’m as confused by all this as you are. Could be they’ve just developed in a different way to back home. Gone ahead with the technology but kept some old fashioned ways.”
They slipped back into an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of Spike tapping his fingers on his leg.
“God, what is your problem?” Buffy spat, moments later.
“What?”
“You! With the tapping! Cut it out!”
“Oh,” Spike hadn’t realised what he’d been doing until she’d pointed it out. “Sorry. Badly need a fag.”
“Well don’t even think about lighting up in here,” Buffy retorted, “you may like smelling like you’ve bathed in eau de stinky, but I don’t.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, pet. Besides I‘ve only got one left. Don’t want to waste it ‘til I can get some more.”
“Why do you even smoke them anyway?” Buffy said, a few moments later. “They’ll kill you, you know.”
Spike didn’t say anything, simply raising his eyebrow.
“Oh…right. You’re already with the…the deadness.” She fell silent again.
Spike pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. He hated sitting still, not doing anything, and he wished that the Slayer would get off her high horse for five minutes and let herself have a conversation with him.
“You must be loving this whole situation,” Buffy spoke again a few moments later.
“What’s that, pet?” Spike inwardly winced, wondering if she’d somehow discovered his secret fantasy of the two of them trapped in a strange place together. Of course, that particular fantasy usually involved a lot less clothing and a much more pleasant Buffy.
“This,” she gestured around them, “the way they do things around here. Vampires not being treated like they are back home.”
“Can’t say as I’ve thought on it all that much,” Spike replied, shrugging. In truth, he hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t dwelled on the fact that some vampires seemed to be treated as equals in this world.
He hadn’t even considered… well, apart from that one moment when his mind’s eye had cast an image of what it would be like to live in Vectis, with Buffy as a Slayer and he as her consort. But he had shoved that notion away as soon as it had come, storing it alongside all his other ‘Buffy+Spike4eva’ fantasies.
Buffy made a non-committal noise, but didn’t speak again.
A few minutes later, the weak light from the single bulb strung from the top of the cave went out, pitching them into darkness.
“Guess that’s our cue to go to sleep,” Buffy said, and shuffled down slightly, pulling the thin blanket up over her legs. “Keep to your own side of the bed.”
“As you wish, Slayer.”
Spike stretched out on the mattress, propping his head up on his hands and crossing his legs at the ankles. There was no clock in the room, but his vampire senses told him it was nearing dawn.
He knew that he should sleep, but his mind was racing and his body tense. He contented himself with listening to Buffy’s breathing as it evened out, wondering what the morning would bring.
-
White moonlight danced on the waves, illuminating the wide beach. Buffy, dressed in a sheer white dress, waded through the surf, her toes sinking into the soft sand.
“Well?” she said, raising an eyebrow, “Aren’t you going to join me?”
He stepped forwards, his feet splashing in the water, and slipped an arm around her waist.
“Buffy…”
She moved closer into the circle of his arms, pressing her body fully against his, her tongue darting out to taste the column of his neck.
“Buffy…”
-
Spike jerked awake suddenly, and groaned, trying to hold on to the threads of the dream. A stifled sob caught his attention, and he sat up, peering into the darkness towards Buffy. All thoughts of the dream were instantly banished when he saw that she was sitting up, her knees drawn into her chest and her head in her hands.
“Slayer?”
Buffy didn’t answer, but he could hear muffled sniffing and he could smell the salt of her tears in the air.
“Buffy?” He shuffled closer, wanting to help, offer comfort, something. “Pet? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Buffy snorted, and looked up with watery eyes. “Where do I start? For one, I’m stuck in Bizarro Land where Slayers and Vampires get snuggly, and I’m here with you of all people. And then there’s the whole Glory thing, and god, how am I supposed to protect my family from here? Glory could have got to Dawn for all I know…and my mom, she…” She broke off with a sob. “I just…I feel so helpless. I’m the Slayer, I’m supposed to be the strong one, but now we’re stuck here and…” her voice fell. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Spike was at a loss. He laid a tentative hand on her shoulder, and patted her back awkwardly. He’d done this before, sat beside her and tried to comfort her. He didn’t know why she let him.
“Come on, pet,” he said, “it’s not all that bad. Your friends will look after little sis and your mum.”
“It is that bad, Spike,” she shrugged his hand away. “You don’t understand. There are things…things you don’t know about Glory.”
“That she’s a god,” Spike said.
Buffy looked up in surprise. “How did you know that? I only found out – god, was it only last night?”
Spike shrugged. “I lurk.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Buffy smiled slightly, but then her face fell again. “That’s not all of it. She…she wants to hurt Dawn. And if I’m not there to protect her…”
“She’ll be all right,” Spike said, laying his hand on her shoulder once more, “she’s tough, your little sister. And she’s got your Watcher and your Scooby gang looking out for her as well.”
“I guess so,” Buffy sighed.
“I know so, and I’m a big, strong, all-knowing vampire,” Spike winked, “an’ you can’t argue with that, so don’ even try.”
Buffy laughed quietly. “Why are you being so nice to me? You hate me. Mortal enemies and all that.”
“Don’t hate you, pet,” he smiled, “think we’re long past being mortal enemies as well.”
“Yeah,” Buffy smiled weakly, “I guess you’re more like my mortal annoyance nowadays.”
“Hey!”
“You love it,” Buffy was grinning now, the only evidence of her breakdown the drying tear-tracks on her face.
Spike looked away, his next words nothing more than a whisper.
“Yeah…”
-
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hee, thanks again everyone for the lovely reviews. I’m glad you all seem to be enjoying the story so far.