Chapter 1

Buffy opened the crypt door.

‘It’s only for one night,’ she told herself. The phrase repeated in her head again as it had every time before when she had wandered to Spike’s crypt. It was almost like a security blanket giving her the reassurance she needed to continue, and convince herself that what she was doing wasn’t wrong.

She knew she should be out searching for answers and find out who was behind the attacks. Someone obviously had it out for her, but right now she really didn’t care.

Buffy walked into the barely lit crypt, following the faint light coming from behind the sarcophagus that sat in the middle of the room. She avoided Spike’s salvaged armchair and the empty liquor bottles that littered the floor as she made her way to the trapdoor that lead to Spike’s underground lair.

She pulled the door open, its creaky hinges echoing throughout the room. Looking down the opening she saw no sign of him and yelled, “Spike? Are you here?”

“Down here, pet.”

With his immediate response, she stepped down on the top rung of the ladder and climbed down to the heady aroma of earth, leather and whiskey. After jumping off the second from last step, she turned and found him sprawled out sitting on the bed with a book in his hands.

She stood at the head of the bed, her eyebrow cocked as she evaluated the sight before her. Never would she believe him to be a reader. With his abundance of energy, she thought he wouldn’t have the patience for such a task.

“You read?”

“Don’t you?” He looked up at her with his trademark smirk, and sat the old looking leather bound book down.

Buffy gave him a sarcastic look at his obvious wisecrack at her less than stellar reputation with books. Spike laughed as he walked over to his severely scarred dresser on the other side of the room and picked up a whiskey bottle.

He held it up to her with a grin on his face and asked, “Drink?”

If this were Buffy on a normal day, she would have immediately declined knowing how unmixy she was with alcohol. But because of her shitty day at the construction site and the Magic Box, she felt inclined. Anyways, hadn’t she earned the right to unwind every once in a while? Surely a few drinks couldn’t make things any worse.

“Sure. Why the hell not?”

Spike’s eyes widen. “Wow didn’t really think you’d say yes, Slayer. Something wrong?”

“Oh nothing. Just my life.” Buffy pouted and looked down at the floor.

She could feel Spike’s eyes on her as he stared waiting for her to explain, but she stayed silent. Finally, Spike broke the silence.

“I assume you’d rather sit there than on the bed?” he said pointing to the coffin by the ladder. His face lit up with a mischievous grin.

Buffy snorted. “I think that would be wise. As if you have a chance anyways.”

“A bloke can only try.”

She ignored his comment and walked to the coffin, taking a seat on opposite side of him. The seating was rather uncomfortable with no cushion, so Buffy wrapped one leg under her as Spike poured them both a shot. She grabbed hers as soon it was filled to the top, and tried unsuccessfully to guzzle it down.

Her lips puckered and body shook as the liquid burned its way down her throat. The stuff tasted terrible. If she hadn’t known better, she would have sworn it tasted like what she thought perfume would taste like. If she had ever tried it, that is.

Spike laughed, smiling back at her. “Not much of an experienced drinker, are you?”

“Not with this poison.” Buffy coughed, holding up her hand while she tried to take a breath.

“Well then..” Spike poured two more shots. “I believe the trick is not breathing when you drink it. Just what I’ve heard. Never really been a problem for me.”

“Lucky you.”

Buffy took his advice, and swallowed the shot in one gulp, waiting to take a breath until the liquid was down the pipe.

“Blaaah!” She winced after she was able to take her first breath, wondering how anyone ever acquired a taste for this stuff.

“Better, yeah?”

“Very little.”

Spike shook his head, having entirely too much fun with her torment. “Are you ready for another?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Why not?”

This time Buffy grabbed the bottle and poured them both a shot, accidently spilling some of it on the coffin. Each grabbed their shot, and the liquid disappeared.

Warmth spread down her throat into her belly as it further expanded down into her limbs. Her muscles relaxed and her head lightened. After skipping meals for the last two days, the alcohol was coming on strong, not that it bothered her. She only wondered how much it would take to make the weight of the last few days fall off. Maybe if she took a few more shots, nothing would matter.

Spike eyed her curiously and took his shot, rolling the glass around in his hand. “So what’s got your knickers in a twist, pet?”

Buffy glared at him. “Well, let’s see. Time was wonky at school yesterday. Attacked by demons this morning at the construction site, and then finished my day at the Magic Shop with an hour that would never end.”

Spike raised his eyebrow.

Buffy explained in detail the events of the last two days. How Giles, Tara and Willow pushed her to start figuring out what she was going to do with herself and how that had lead to the bouts of school and temporary employment.

“Selfish wankers. Knew they would eventually start pushing you to do what they wanted. Couldn’t give you a little time to adjust first, could they? No. It’s all about them.” Spike’s jaw strained as he grabbed the whiskey and filled their glasses.

“They’re just trying to help. It’s my fault. I knew I wouldn’t fit back into school. I wasn’t very good at the book thing before anyways.” She looked down at her hands, still upset with herself. “And the jobs? Well, big surprise those didn’t work out.”

They sat in silence for while, Buffy still looking down at her hands, pretending they had suddenly became interesting.

Spike poured another round, not saying anything.

Buffy took the shot, this time without making the sourpuss face. Spike lifted his shot glass to his face, swallowing the liquid in one gulp, and slammed the glass down.

“Life is stupid,” Buffy said, deflated.

“I have a dim memory of that, yeah. And I didn’t figure you were here cadging my whiskey ‘cause life’s all full of blood and peaches.”

Looking down at her shot glass, she replied, “No. There’s something after me. Messing up any chance of having a normal job. A normal life. Except that it was kind of messed up already. You know, with school, and jobs… pretty bad even without the evil.”

“So you, uh, just what? Gonna let these demons play you till they figure out what kills you?” he said clearly irritated.

Buffy shrugged, indifferent about the whole situation. “Giles is working on it.”

Spike laughed bitterly. “Oh, good, ‘cause Giles wields the mighty force of library books.”

“You’d do better?”

“Damn right! I’d hit the demon world.” Spike brought a leg over the coffin, straddling it as Buffy began refilling their glasses. “Ask questions, throw punches, find out what’s in the air. Hmm? It’s fun too.”

Buffy smiled as she picked up her glass and swallowed the liquid down. “It’s not my kind of fun.”

“Yeah, it is.” Spike grinned. “And your life’s gonna get a lot less confusing when you figure that out.”

She was suspicious of his theory, but deep down knew it held a bit of truth. Or at least at one time it had. Before, she loved the thrill of a good fight, at one with both her Slayer and human side unleashing all the stress and pain that came with her calling. But since her return, the fight hadn’t filled that empty spot.

“You’re not a schoolgirl. You’re not a shop girl,” Spike explained as Buffy poured herself another shot. “You’re a creature of the darkness. Like me.”

Buffy looked up at him, brows raised.

“Try on my world. See how good it feels.” His gaze dared her to see it his way, and walk into the darkness with him.

Curious of his meaning, she asked, “What would I find out in your world that I can’t find in mine?”

Spike huffed. “First off, we could find out about the demons that attacked you. Demons and vampires talk, luv. Especially when it comes to fighting the Slayer. We could go down to Willy’s find out what’s in the air.”

“And how would that work? I’m sure as soon as I walk in the door everyone will be jumping at the opportunity to give me information. Come on Spike, no demon or vampire is going to help me out.”

“You’re right, they won’t. But with me by your side, you have a greater chance of getting information.”

He was getting cocky about the whole thing, and she wondered if he really did have a plan. If this was the usual Spike she was used to then this was all bullshit.

“How? Are we going to take each one out back, and beat them for information?”

“As tempting as that sounds, no. We’re going to play cards.”

“Cards?” she said skeptically, but curiously interested in where he was going with this.

Spike shook his head at her obvious naivety. “Yeah, cards. The lowlifes talk as they play. We’ll get much more from them if they think we are there to unwind. But you might want to slow down with the whiskey. I don’t need you drunk if it comes down to blows.”

“I’m not drunk.” Buffy hiccupped.

Spike smiled. “I can see that, with the change in speech and all.”

Buffy pouted. “I’m not drunk. I’m just coming out of my bad mood is all.”

With an eyebrow raised, Spike took the bottle from Buffy’s hand, corked it and sat it next to him. “Do you play poker?”

“What do you think?”

“Guessing not. Okay, not a problem. We’ll go over a few things first, and not to worry about you losing, probably will work to my advantage anyhow.”

Spike took the whiskey with both glasses and walked over to the beaten dresser, sitting down the items and pulling out a deck of cards from the top drawer. He then took the same position on the coffin, and laid the cards down front side up.

“Now first things first, the basics. Do you know the different hands and how they rank?”

“I know a few things. My dad used to play when I was a kid, but that was a long time ago.”

“Well then, we’ll start with the lowest ranking hand and work our way up.” He shuffled through the cards pulling out what looked like random matches and laid them down between them.

It took some time but Spike went over all the various hands, stopping when she had questions and making sure she at least had the basics before they went jumping into a poker game. He warned her to keep up appearances, even act a little drunk to throw them off.

“Just pretend you know what you’re doing,” he said with a smirk. "Do you think you can remember all of that?”

After all that plus drinking, did he really think she could commit to memory all the rules plus all the hands? Yeah, this was going to be a really bad idea.

“Not a chance. Are you sure we can’t just beat them up for information?”

Spike looked up, and shook his head. “Just try your best. Your winning isn’t what this is about anyways, but I do need you to appear to be casual. Put these guys on edge, and they won’t say a word.”

“Fine.” Buffy huffed. “Anything else I should know?”

Spike eyes roamed over her, and gave her a cocky grin when he noticed her disapproval. “Yeah, betting. Do you have anything of value on you?”

With the state her finances were in, there was no way she could give up anything with a monetary value right now.

Without thinking she replied, “Not unless you count my clothes.”

“I might, especially if this was strip poker with just you and I playing, but the guys won’t be so interested.”

“Like you would ever be able to talk me into playing strip poker.”

“Keep telling yourself, luv.” He winked at her then gave her a shit eating grin.

Buffy rolled her eyes. If he only knew how often she reminded herself of how dangerous he was, and to watch her feelings about him. She knew it was a mistake to keep coming here every time things seemed dire. But she couldn’t help it. For whatever reason she kept looking for him to lead her out of the cluster fuck her life had become. That little voice in the back of her head kept telling her that it didn’t matter as long as he was able to help and if not she wasn’t any worse for wear, well…

Yeah, she didn’t believe either.

“No telling needed. Not happening, Spike.”

She wasn’t sure but she could have sworn he whispered, “One day you’ll see.”

Okay, change the subject! “Is there anything here maybe you can lend me, or pay you back for?”

“No, everything here is pretty much junk.” He looked around the room, trying to scope out something with value. “I really don’t have anything they’d be interested in, unless…” He looked at her as he pondered something.

“Well…What?” Buffy really didn’t like the look on his face. It scared her to think of what crazy, stupid plan he had come up with.

“Well, there is something, but you might not like it.”

“Out with it Spike. I’m not in the mood for guessing games.”

“Don’t stake the idea right off. Just think about it.” He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to pick the right words. “What do you have that no one else in Sunnydale has?

“Crushing debt and a quirky personality.”

“I’m serious.” He scoffed at her sarcasm. “Power. To harness that kind of power is priceless.”

Her eyes widened, perplexed by the thought of someone in Sunnydale getting their hands on her power. And how would they do that if she even wanted to entertain this harebrained idea and let them? It all sounded like one big joke.

“What are you going to do? Gamble my services off as bounty hunter?”

“No…your blood.”

Did he just say what she thought he did?

“What?”

“Your blood contains magic. The essence of the Slayer runs through your veins. All we have to do is extract a small vial of blood, and we’ll have them hooked.”

She sputtered at the notion. “I’m not gambling a vial of my blood to a bunch of vampires so they can spread the news that I’m selling myself for cash!”

“It’s not vampires we’re playing, luv. Demons. Any of them would love to get their hands on a vial of your blood to use for some spell or something. Besides, it won’t be near enough for them to do anything big and cause you problems later. But it is enough to ease their nervousness of you and talk, which is exactly what you want right?”

Buffy chewed on her lip as she contemplated what Spike said and the moral ramifications of doing something like this could cause. They would use it for spells and what else? Was there something in it for Spike? She was sure he would like to get his hands on her blood for himself. Of course, a vial wouldn’t be nearly enough for him to be satisfied. She had seen how much blood those coffee cups contained. So where was this coming from?

“What’s in it for you?” Buffy asked with a stern look on her face to let him know she wasn’t fucking around.

“Nothing, unless I win. And make no assumptions, pet. I plan on winning.” He said with a curl to his upper lip.

“So best case scenario is, you win it and digest it.” Buffy frowned. “Then no worries that it will be used for anything that could hurt anyone else. Do I have that right?”

Spike nodded.

“Worst case scenario is one of the demons wins it, and uses it for a spell. Considering I’ve been around Willow for enough spells gone wrong, there are plenty of ways this idea is a terrible one… Spike, this isn’t going to work. I’m not going to risk innocent people getting hurt, just so I can get information. There’s another way.”

“Luv, you’ve got to take some risks. You should know that by now. There is always a risk of someone getting hurt, or some new danger. It doesn’t mean you should wave it off immediately, and risk not finding out who it is that’s trying to hurt you. Remember they could be hurting other innocents too. Besides, I’m quite the card player. How do you think I ended up with the crypt?”

“You won the crypt in a card game?” Buffy said incredulously.

Spike laughed. “Yeah, a nice crypt like this doesn’t stay empty. Won it off a Frellian demon and had a bloody hard time claiming my prize. Welcher she was. Let’s just say she won’t be around to reclaim it.”

Buffy sat in silence, weighing her options and their possible outcomes. This had disaster written all over it. But, she didn’t have any other ideas on how to find out what was going on. Spike did have a point. The demon world would be buzzing with information if she just allowed herself to listen. She needed to find a way in, and it seemed like the best way. Hopefully, Spike’s arrogance wouldn’t make this even worse than it already was.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But if you’re playing me or setting me up in any way, I will kill you.”

His hands went to his chest. “A death threat, Slayer? You do know the way to my heart.”

“I mean it Spike.”

“No worries Slayer, this isn’t a trick. It will work. You just have to trust me.”

That’s what she was afraid of.