Chapter 1- Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay


Sunnydale
almost any night of the week

Sucking in a deep breath, the Slayer took aim and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick as high as she could reach. Her well shod foot landed squarely on the lower portion of the enormous demon’s stomach. It remained firmly rooted in place while the recoil shot her back several feet.

Wincing, she recovered quickly. Okay, so I didn’t stick my landing, but let’s see Carly Patterson do any better in a foot of California mud wearing three inch heels.

“Hey you, up there in the stratosphere. Did you happen to notice the unusual shade of blue in this skirt? It took me three mall crawls to find matching shoes.” The Slayer wagged her finger at the monolith. “So consider these sandals a no damage zone while I kill you.”

Silently perplexed, the demon stared down at the small feisty creature with its hands on its hips.

Buffy decided right then and there that she really, really hated demons that were over nine feet of rock hard muscle and incredibly stupid to boot. The darn thing didn’t even seem to realize it was under attack and that was just so annoying.

I bet he messes up my shoes anyway.

Resembling the Empire State Building, the concrete gray demon was broad at the base, tapering slowly toward the pinnacle, a narrow head topped with two large, very blank red eyes. Looking up, Buffy expected to see a roaring King Kong clinging to one ear and a zeppelin moored to the other, although in between them both she already knew not one single neuron fired.

“I’ll bet when you take an intelligence test it comes back negative.”

Still receiving no response, she clenched her fist and shook it at the demon’s navel. “Just wait until I find my knife. They’ll have to put out caution signs, you’ll be so demolished!”

Taking advantage of the accidental confusion caused by the triple threat of snappy kick, shaking fist and not quite pithy quip, she quickly scanned the ground around her feet. Nada.

The Slayer had been on her way to Spike’s crypt, when the demon materialized out of Restfield’s tree line, although Buffy would have sworn it was thin air, carrying an armload of moldy bones. Deep in patrol planning mode, the enormous demon was suddenly standing right in front of her. Startled, she’d tripped over a tree root and accidentally flung her knife. Definitely not one of her more shining Slayer moments.

Muttering under her breath about the injustice wrought by enormous, yet seriously quiet demons, Buffy warily watched the behemoth and stepped up the errant knife search. She knew the way her luck was going the landmark impression portion of the evening would end soon and the moving to kill a Slayer portion would be taking its place.

The demon finally blinked. Dropping the armload of stolen bones, it raised a trunk-like arm to squash the brassed off blonde in the indigo mini skirt.

Uh oh.

Cutting her eyes to the side, Buffy noticed a slight glint in the moonlight. It was the handle of her dagger, nearly buried amid the fallen leaves and mud. Darn Slayer strength. It’s at least a foot away. Warily watching the demon, she inched sideways.

The building sized demon, now firmly ensconced on the clue train, matched her move for move, while making a fist the size of some European cars. Buffy was about to do the Pilates bend! and really, really stretch! when she heard a familiar British accent shouting from somewhere over her right shoulder.

“Slayer, incoming!! F-B!! Duck!!”

Grimacing over the now probable ruin of both shoes and skirt, she dropped to the muddy ground. A fireball flew over her, landing with pinpoint accuracy on the top of Landmark’s head.

Grunting at the impact, the demon backed up, patting ineffectually at sizzling skin while red eyes blinked in confusion. Buffy surmised in all its previous experiences fireballs had never rained from the sky to impede enemy mashing.

Welcome to the Hellmouth, where anything’s possible. She felt like sticking out her tongue, but instead leaped to her feet. “My turn.”

Scooping up the serrated knife, she plunged it into Landmark’s stomach and twisted. Doubling over, the demon clutched its midsection as black blood poured from the wound.

Wrinkling her nose at the combined stench of blood and burning skin, the Slayer efficiently decapitated her annoying nemesis. “See? I said you’d be demolished.”

After kicking dirt over the flaming head she turned around to see Spike and Empress walking toward her, wearing identically smug expressions. Darn. Buffy knew they must have seen her searching for the lost knife; they both had annoyingly excellent night vision. She sighed.

Now we bring you the smirking, smart ass comments portion of the evening.

Making an executive decision to cut said comments off at the knees, Buffy went on the offensive instead. “F-B? What, Spike, now it’s too much effort to say the entire word ‘fireball’? You shorten an important word like that and somebody won’t have a clue what’s going on, they’ll get fried and it’ll be all your fault.”

Spike came to a stop next to the muddied Slayer. Well aware of the reason for the preemptive strike, he coolly cocked an eyebrow. “Number one, you were the only ‘somebody’ involved, and unless you’re tellin’ me you’re clueless about somethin’ we’ve practiced at least fifteen times, that argument won’t fly. Number two, that little gem would be Red’s latest daft idea, not mine. She thinks it takes too much time during a fight, or a search, so she’s tryin’ shortcuts for Empress’ fight commands.”

They both looked down at the Grundy standing next to Spike. Empress caught the look and wagged her tail. Glancing around, she chose a dry spot and plopped down on her haunches. She began to pant, forked tongue nearly touching the ground. Summer was in full swing and the furry demon felt it the most. Having heard the entire exchange, she shook her head at them and winked, causing them both to break out in grins.

Buffy turned back to Spike. “I’ll talk to Willow. That’s got to go, it’s ridiculous. It sounds like a kindergartener’s song.” Shaking her head at one of her best friend’s odder ideas, Buffy parodied a child’s sing-song voice. “Now I know my FBC’s…”

“Won’t you be afraid of me,” Spike contributed, not missing a beat.

Buffy chuckled, acknowledging the quip. “What, you watch the Muppets now?”

“I don’t think that’s ever been on the Muppets, pet.” The vamp waxed poetic. “But they are bloody fantastic, aren’t they? Especially Oscar. He doesn’t take shit from any of those poncy ones. He’s his own Muppet.”

“You’re a fan of Oscar? Isn’t he the one with the ‘tude who lives in a garbage can? Oh wait, now I see the connection.” She smirked at his eye roll. “I would have pegged you as the Count’s fanboy.”

Spike snorted. “That berk? He’s a worse stereotype than Dracula. But I’d give a month’s poker winnings for this.” Spike adopted a terrible Transylvanian accent and struck a B movie pose.

“Von bag of blud, two bags of blud, three bags of blud. Oops, now we have zero bags of blud. Then he’d wipe his mouth with that little cloth hand and smile.”

Losing it completely over Spike’s horrible accent and the hilarious image he’d presented, it took a moment before Buffy could continue. She wiped her eyes. “Okay, so how does a really old vampire know a modern kid’s alphabet song? I mean, you were a kid when they still wrote hieroglyphics on papyrus, right?”

“Actually, Summers, that would have been a couple thousand years ago in Egypt, not Great Britain.”

“Oh yeah, Great Britain is the one with the much more recently lost empire.”

Spike glanced around pointedly. “Yeah, well, some things probably needed losin’.”

Chuckling at Spike’s sudden bout of nationalistic pride, Buffy immediately sobered when she noticed a shadow cross the vamp’s face.

“I know all kinds of children’s songs and rhymes because of Dru. She always did like the little ones.”

Buffy held up a hand and spoke in a kinder voice than Spike expected after that bit of misplaced honesty. “Let’s not go there. Even though I brought up the subject, I think any convo that includes either your ex or mine teeters close to the brink of TMI.”

Relieved, he nodded and changed the subject back again. “So Slayer, you being one of those ‘modern kids’ maybe you can explain something I’ve always wondered about. What’s with all that up the water spout nonsense? Why doesn’t the itsy bitsy spider just build a normal bleedin’ web at the bottom and stay in it?”

Buffy blinked. The stuff that goes through that vamp’s head. Although… “Now that you mention it, that spider does act pretty strange. Hey, I bet it’s a nursery rhyme based on a demonic spider. It was probably trying to break into someone’s house to kill them and then became a nursery rhyme, like that ‘ring around the rosy’ thing.”

“That was such a Buffy Summers thing to say. I think you’ve got a one track mind, Slayer.”

At the vamp’s amused look at her perfectly plausible theory, Buffy shrugged. “Ask a Slayer, get a Slayer answer. Why, don’t you think it’s possible?”

“Actually, pet, I’ve always thought it was probably sexual innuendo, all that up and down, the water rushing out of the spout…”

“Talk about a one track mind. That was such a male thing to say.”

“Well, ask a male….”

Still listening to his laughter- Spike really did have a great laugh- Buffy reached down to scratch the Grundy’s ears. Empress was listening to the conversation with what appeared to be a grin across her muzzle. Buffy loved her expressive face; it was one of her best qualities. After the fireball that had just saved her bacon, of course.

“Empress, that was really impressive. You clocked him perfectly. Thank you.”

The Grundy wagged her tail again and held her head up proudly. Willow, Spike and Buffy had practiced with her a lot and she’d finally mastered pinpoint accuracy in her long range attack. Nearly grown now and with all her demonic aspects at full power, Empress had become a formidable ally during evening patrols. The local demons kept a wary eye not only on Buffy and Spike, but the fierce, protective Grundy who always followed at their heels.

Spike watched the Slayer fondly scratching the Grundy’s ears for a moment and an odd lump formed in his throat. Even with the joking around, it had just been good luck that he and Empress had shown up when they did. Swallowing the lump, Spike prodded the blackened head with the toe of his Doc Marten. “So Slayer, what do you want to do with this rapidly ripening Slowshoo demon?”

“So that’s what it is? It’s so sneaky it ought to be called soft shoe demon.” Buffy disgustedly eyed the mammoth body and accompanying severed head. “Let’s drag it father into the trees, we’ll come back later and bury it. I really came to get you guys early for a reason. Giles wants to see us at the Magic Box before patrol. He called and left a message.”

Hiding the Slowshoo from all the innocents that roamed through the graveyard late at night- Yeah, right, innocents. Why do I even bother?- Buffy headed for the north exit. Spike and the Grundy fell in step beside her.

He lit a cigarette before asking, “What does Rupes want?”

“No clue, but at least it’ll be a few minutes of air conditioning.”

Padding along beside Spike, the Grundy heard air conditioning and crooned her approval. She liked air conditioning a lot. She also heard Magic Box and drooled. Her humans there kept a ready supply of tasty wooden Goddesses for treats. Empress picked up the pace, prodding her fighting partners to walk faster. She’d worked up an appetite with her perfect assault and wanted a snack. Maybe she could turn on the charm and finagle two. If not, there were always plenty of pillar candles stacked within easy reach.

“Come in Buffy, Spike.” Giles inclined his head to acknowledge the four footed member of the trio and quickly dropped a fertility goddess on the floor in front of Empress. He’d learned that the faster they gave the Grundy one of the cheap wooden goddesses, the better off they were. She’d disappear into a corner to eat quietly and leave all the expensive pillar candles alone. It was a deal he and Anya had willingly made with the little demon. He reconsidered the long meeting ahead and dropped a second statue, receiving an enthusiastic tail wag in response.

Giles returned to the counter and stood, arms crossed, next to a tall, elderly woman. Buffy knew the pose well. It was her Watcher’s long winded ‘we’ve got a very serious issue we need to discuss’ pose. She glanced at Spike. He caught her look and grimaced.

Buffy turned back to the table where Willow, Xander and Anya were already seated.
Uh oh, everyone’s here, there’s no way this is turning out well.

“Hi everybody.” Sliding into the empty chair across from Willow, she threw her best friend a questioning glance. Willow shook her head slightly and mouthed the words, no clue. Spike straddled the chair next to Buffy and Empress immediately brought her treats over and laid down next to him. Once they were settled, everyone turned to Giles expectantly.

“Okay, Giles, we’re all here, what’s the sitch?”

“First allow me to introduce everyone.” He turned to the older woman. “Dess, this is my Slayer, Buffy Summers, that’s Spike next to her and as I’m sure you’ve surmised by now, that’s Empress. You met my partner Anya a few moments ago, and next to her are Xander and Willow.”

Dess swept her eyes across each of them for a moment, lingering on Buffy. She smiled briefly.

“Everyone, this is Dess, a guiding member of the Sisterhood.”

“I’ve heard of that group before somewhere.”

Giles pulled out a chair at the table for the woman and a chair for himself before answering his Slayer. “It was a member of the Sisterhood that Captain Tarn killed three weeks ago.”

Understanding crossed Buffy’s face. “She was the Grundy breeder.”

Spike leaned forward. “You aren’t here to take Empress back are you? The Council already paid for her and they gave her to us.”

Empress stopped chewing and looked up.

The woman shook her head. “No, that’s not why I’m here.” She turned back to Giles. “Perhaps I should start at the beginning.”

“That’s a good idea. Why don’t you begin with everything you explained to me on the telephone.”

Dess clasped her hands, placing them lightly on the table in front of her. “Well, as Rupert just mentioned, I’m a member of the Sisterhood, a group that has assisted the Powers for many years. As you know, Cara, the Grundy breeder, was also a member.”

She took a moment to smile down at the little demon who had begun crunching her treats again. “A Grundy can be a strong protector of valuables and people. Cara owned three which were not part of her breeding stock, but personal pets and she availed herself of their unique abilities on several occasions. We never interfered of course, it was her decision. But when she was murdered, it fell to me to complete her mission. I needed to locate your Grundy and the bracelet that Cara placed around its neck.”

Buffy frowned. “You mean you’re here for the fake Talisman?”

“Even though it was used as a ruse to fool the soldiers, I can assure you it is in no way a ‘fake’. The morning of her death, Cara knew the soldiers had attempted to break into her facility and that they would return, focused only on acquiring their talisman.

She delivered the Grundy to you, knowing that you’d believe the important piece was the bracelet, guarding it closely while the actual talisman was secretly ensconced within the beast. A bold move, it was her best chance to protect both pieces.

One week ago I was contacted by the bracelet’s owner. She’d been unable to reach Cara and followed failsafe instructions. After our conversation and the subsequent discovery of a bill of sale to the Council amid some partially burned papers, I was able to retrace Cara’s steps and search for the missing bracelet.

I called and spoke with Mr. Travers and learned of all that occurred, both in England and here in Sunnydale. But he made no mention of the missing bracelet, so I surmised it was still with the Grundy. I asked for the beast’s current location and discovered she was still here on the Hellmouth helping the Slayer.”

The elderly woman sipped from a glass of water Giles had provided, giving him the opportunity to speak. “Since we are aware of its existence and have it in our possession, the Sisterhood has requested our assistance in returning the bracelet to its rightful owner. Earlier this evening, after making a few inquiries themselves, the Council agreed.”

Setting the glass back down in front of her, Dess picked up the narration again. “The bracelet was being protected because someone had attempted to steal it. The owner felt that it would be much safer out of her possession for awhile.”

“Why does someone want it so badly?” Willow asked.

Giles answered the witch. “The bracelet has great power, neutral power which can be used either for good or bad, depending on the wearer. Kept safe for several years within the same family, someone outside has learned of its existence. Obviously they want it for themselves.”

Dess continued with her explanation. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the identity of the individual or group that attempted to steal the bracelet. Added to all of this is the fact that there is a very important ritual in eight days that requires use of the bracelet by its owner.”

Buffy shifted in her seat. “Who owns it and when do I give it to her?”

“The bracelet is owned by Aribella Damaris and her family.”

Anya whistled.

“Okay, for us not in the loop, who is Aribella Whoever?” Buffy asked, looking between the elderly woman and Anya, before settling on her friend.

She answered promptly. “One of the most influential demons in North America. Picture someone with half of Bill Gates’ bankbook and all of Queen Elizabeth’s pedigree.”

“Why would we want to give this bracelet back to a demon with that much power to start with? Isn’t it a good thing she doesn’t have it anymore?”

The elderly woman smiled. “She’s very much on our side, isn’t that true Rupert?”

The Watcher nodded. “Through the years the Damaris family has worked with the Council and others in the service of the Powers many times. Then there is the ritual to take into consideration. Quentin mentioned the bracelet held an important position and it would be ruinous if it were not present.”

Spike drummed his fingers on the table. This part of working with the white hats drove him nearly insane with boredom. They had a habit of talking everything to death.
Just shut up with the nattering already. Me and the Slayer can take care of this.

“So we’ll be returnin’ an expensive and powerful bauble to an expensive and powerful demon, when and where?”

Dess reached in a bag, and handed folders to each of them, explaining as she worked. “Ms. Damaris will not actually be given the bracelet in person. She has requested that we return it to her niece, Aria. To further insure not only the bracelet’s safety, but that of her niece, it will be-“.

“Aboard a cruise ship?” Willow held up a brochure. Xander and Anya scooped up their own folders.

“Giles, I can’t possibly leave the shop now, we’re about to have our summer clearance sale in two weeks.”

Giles murmured soothingly to his frantic partner. “Don’t worry Anya; it’s only for five days.”

Spike scowled at the preprinted brochure. “What the bloody hell good can I be aboard a cruise ship? I don’t exactly do ‘fun in the sun.’”

Amused at the varied responses, Dess began with the vampire who had just slammed the brochure closed. “Actually, you’re an integral part of this, Spike.” At his disbelieving look, she spoke earnestly. He was a keystone to the plan. “Please allow me to explain.”

Spike slumped in his seat and nodded.

“Thank you.” She turned to include them all. “Aria is risking a great deal doing this, so they chose the location for the drop to place her in as little danger as possible. This vacation had already been planned for several weeks and a ship is a fairly controlled environment. Also, it would look odd to outsiders if she were to suddenly cancel. You and the Slayer will casually meet her and if it looks like anyone is following her or attempts to hurt her, you’ll both be there. To everyone else Buffy will just be another passenger. No one would expect the Slayer to be vacationing onboard a demon centric cruise ship and a vampire companion and a Grundy will cement the deception.”

“I don’t understand. Demons do cruises? But what about the rest of us? We’re not demons.” Xander looked confused.

“Actually, Xander, demons travel by ship a great deal, especially vampires.”

Dess nodded. “The passengers for the most part will be demons, but mages and other humans will be there. Some of the staff is also human. The ship is specially outfitted so the sun and other problems aren’t an issue and due to the demon proclivity for nighttime the main activities occur after the sun goes down.”

Giles picked up the explanation. “Buffy and Spike will be Aria’s main contacts of course, while the rest of you are backup. It seems that the employees aboard these vessels frequently move around, so the Council was able to unobtrusively secure posts for you.
Xander, you’re a bartender, while we’ve secured a position for Anya working in the onboard store.”

Xander pantomimed holding a gun in each hand. “This is starting to sound pretty cool. I’ll be Sean Connery in Diamonds are Forever.”

Spike snickered. “More like Rowan Atkinson in Johnny English.”

Giles ignored them and continued. “Willow, you’ll work in the ship’s library which will give you access to the computers. I want you to contact me immediately if any problems crop up.”

“Will, that’s perfect for you.” Buffy beamed at her nervous friend. “You know, this could turn out to be a lot of fun. I mean besides the potential danger of our contact getting killed, or one of us getting killed, or someone stealing the bracelet and using it to destroy the world and of course there’s the whole hanging out with a boatload of demons the entire time part. But other than that stuff, it’ll be all about the cruising fun.”

“Yeah, except for all that other stuff, it sounds really great.” A vision of them all floating along aboard the Ship of Fools crossed Willow’s mind. Oh Goddess, that could be us.

“Just how many demons are we talking about?”

Buffy patted her hand.

Giles glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late. Today is Monday and the ship leaves the Port of Los Angeles at four o’clock Friday afternoon. Employees need to arrive on Wednesday. Your instructions are in each individual envelope, along with a check for incidentals including your uniforms.

Since the ship was chosen by Ms. Damaris and she is extremely grateful for the additional security that we’re supplying, she has offered to pay for those incidentals herself, along with expenses incurred while on board. Don’t worry about spending additional money if necessary. That will be all for now.”

As the meeting broke up, Dess turned to the couple rising for patrol. “I can’t tell you both how grateful the Sisterhood and the Damaris family are that you and the Council have taken this on. I’m relieved that it will be in your capable hands. Oh, one more thing. You’ll need to hide any weapons you’ll be bringing inside your Grundy. There’s a no weapons policy aboard the ship. Its part of a treaty each passenger signs to keep the worst demons under control and avoid bloodshed. A Grundy is considered part of the family and will be able to be with you at all times, so you’ll have immediate access to anything stored within her.”

“Not a problem.” Suddenly Buffy’s smile dissolved into utter panic. “Wait, I can’t go.”

Dess stilled. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have anything to wear. I don’t think my True Religion jeans are going to cut it, especially at night.”

Relieved that the Slayer hadn’t suddenly changed her mind, Dess smiled. “Not a problem. Actually jeans and very casual clothes are worn during the day. For the evenings, I took the liberty of bringing a few things with me and I’m sure you’ll be able to dig up some additional clothes to enhance your costumes.”

“What’s this about soddin’ costumes?”

“I’m sorry; I forgot to mention that part, there was so much to say. This is a costumed adventure cruise. Passengers are expected to wear appropriate costumes and participate in various activities.”

Giles stared pointedly at them both. “You don’t want to draw attention to yourselves, so you’ll need to participate when necessary. Not to mention that one of those activities might possibly offer the perfect chance to hand over the bracelet unobtrusively.”

Anya held up the brochure she’d been reading avidly. “The cruise is called Floating through history. Every night passengers will be treated to the best of each decade. They begin with the 1980’s and work backward until culminating with the Captain’s Ball set during the ‘40’s.”

Spike grimaced. In his experience, some decades were better than others. The fifties hadn’t been so bad, maybe they’d do Paris. But Spike hated the forties. He had some bad memories from the war years, including a submarine incident with the Slayer’s very own Peaches. He’d have to be careful to keep certain comments and memories to himself. Uneasily, he wondered if anyone he knew would be onboard. Bloody hell.

Listening to Anya reading the brochure out loud, Buffy got the sinking feeling this was going to be a lot more work than she’d thought. She suddenly saw herself dressed as Donna Reed, with Empress tucked under her arm. The Grundy would be sporting a large pink and white polka dot bow that matched Buffy’s frilly Dacron dress. She’d be struggling to win a Betty Crocker Bake off, while trying to keep a strand of seed pearls and the squirming Grundy out of the bundt cake batter. Spike would be sitting in a Barcalounger smoking a cigar and making smart ass comments. Damn.

Chapter 3- Fantastic Voyage


Leaning against the corner of the covered parking area Friday afternoon, Buffy idly surveyed the surrounding area while Spike stuffed an unneeded blanket inside his duffel. The cruise line was prepared for their sunlight impaired travelers. A covered walkway ran the length of the sidewalk from the elevator of the parking structure all the way onto the ship where it ended in a large, brightly striped awning.

Unfortunately, the awning seemed to be the newest portion of the ship. Nothing like one of the sleek ocean going vessels advertised constantly on the travel channel, this boat resembled a wide bodied whaling ship plucked straight out of an old documentary on the history channel.

Well, isn’t this just great, the Council’s sending us out on the H.M.S. Bounty.

Buffy could just see herself being prodded forward by a pirate garbed demon with a peg leg and an eye patch. Holding a cutlass, old one eye would force her to walk the warped plank while everyone else, bound tightly to the mast, looked on helplessly.

Good thing Mom sprung for those swimming lessons when I was five.

Visualizing herself in the scenario, Buffy mentally added a swimsuit and grimaced. Busy slaying, she hadn’t had time to acquire a summer tan. At least the glare from my legs will blind the pirate and give me time to escape.

Dismissing her disheartening thoughts, she turned back to the milling passengers waiting to board. Other vamps in the group were doing the same thing as Spike. She itched to pull out a stake and take a quick stroll. It would really be a public service. I could cut the line down and we’d all be able to board faster.

“Ready, Sla- uh, Buffy.” Spike hoisted the duffel to his shoulder and picked up Buffy’s overnight case. “Bollocks. Sorry.” They’d been warned repeatedly to be careful what they said to each other among the other passengers. Little demons have big ears.

“Not a problem, we’ll get this cloak and dagger stuff figured out, probably just in time to go home.” Buffy was still getting used to Spike using her given name. Coming from him, it sounded odd, but surprisingly kind of nice.

Tightening her grasp, Buffy shifted a sulking Grundy who’d been stuck in the Desoto far too long this afternoon and extremely upset about the puffy peach bow jauntily tied to her collar. It had taken both Buffy and Spike to hold her down long enough to tie it.

Grumbling audibly, she squirmed restlessly under Buffy’s arm, trying to simultaneously reach the bow and wriggle out of her arms as they headed up the walkway toward the uniformed woman waiting under the awning.

“Welcome aboard.” The efficient woman, nametag nowhere in evidence on her beige pantsuit, perused her clipboard. Buffy noticed she had two extra fingers on each hand.

Momentarily diverted watching the demon’s extra ring finger glide down the long list, Buffy missed the woman’s question. “I’m sorry?”

“I asked for your name.”

“Elizabeth Summers. My uncle, Rupert Giles, made the reservation.”

“Oh, yes, Ms.Summers, party of three.” She smiled at the trio, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What a gorgeous Grundy!”

Her left hand hovered above the little demon affording Buffy a close up view of the unusual swirling tattoo on her wrist. “Would it be alright if I petted her?”

“I guess so.”

Empress bared her teeth and the demon quickly pulled her hand back. “Oh, I guess not.”

Buffy tightened her hold. “Sorry about that, she’s been cooped up in the car and it’s made her a little cranky.”

“That’s alright, I know better than to touch strange Grundies, but she’s absolutely beautiful and I couldn’t resist. I’ve always thought that coat and scales combination is the prettiest.” She smiled at Spike and Buffy to show no hard feelings. “You really must check out our ship’s store while you’re onboard. We have imported wood of the highest quality.”

“We’ll check it out. Thanks.”

“Here’s the information for your cabin and your access keys. The woman at the end of this hall has your itinerary, including the list of activities.”

Walking toward the employee inside the ship, Spike shook his head. “Empress never does that to people admiring her, no matter how long she’s been locked away. I think there was something else going on there.”

“You mean besides the fact that she’s an annoying, almost perky demon?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “The way Empress reacted; I think we should have Red check her out, just to be safe.”

“Yeah, I’d like to know more about that tattoo on her wrist.”

Walking up to the next uniformed employee, Spike flashed a smile. “’Lo.”

Ten minutes later it seemed as if they’d been listening to this activities person run at the mouth for hours. Buffy’s eyes had glazed over and she was staring into space, a smile rigidly in place. Even Empress had been lulled into torpor by the girl’s sing song voice. Forcing herself awake, Buffy focused again on the conversation and stiffened. The skanky ho was openly flirting with Spike. Hey, he’s supposed to be my boyfriend. Setting the Grundy on the floor, she crossed her arms and frowned at the woman.

“Vampire, right?” The woman was batting her lashes. “I’ve given you first dinner seating, that’s at 8:00. The blood fountains are at their freshest then.” Ignoring Buffy’s glare, she placed the remainder of the information in Spike’s hands, lingering a little too long. “Anything you need, just ring for the steward.” Still ignoring Buffy, she tossed her hair and smiled brightly at Spike. “Or you can call on me. My name’s Jennifer. I sure hope to see you around.”

Spike nodded curtly and started down the hall. Buffy thrust her hands in her pockets and followed him. Once they turned the corner, he stopped and waited for her and Empress. “Where in the bloody hell are they gettin’ their staff? Not only was that bint pushy, but she makes Harmony look smart.”

Buffy’s shoulders relaxed. She surveyed the pile of information and schedules Spike carried with distaste. “Why does it feel like she just handed us a huge box of chocolates and steered us toward a bus bench?”

“Just don’t call me Forrest and everythin’ will be alright.” He suddenly grinned. “Say, pet, when we boarded, did you happen to catch the name of this tub?”

“Not really. Remember, I was trying to make sure our gorgeous pet Grundy didn’t take a hunk out of Fingers. Why, what’s it called?”

“I bet this line is owned by a group of evil lawyers because you and I have just boarded the good ship Malfeasance.”

Buffy chuckled. “It could be worse, we could be on the ‘Black Pearl’.”

“You afraid of a few bleedin’ ghost pirates? I’d be a lot more worried if it read ‘Titanic’.

“Afraid we’d have to go down with the ship?”

“Nah, afraid we’d have to listen to that bloody Celine Dion song over and over. Not even savin’ the world would be worth that.”

*****

Once the final passengers boarded and the ship got underway, the uniformed woman waited impatiently in an empty cabin until a man, also in uniform, slipped inside and shut the door. “What is it? I can’t be away too long, I’ll be missed.”

“I thought you should know that one of the guests has brought a Grundy full of weapons onboard. I could read the signature within it. I tried to find out what they were, but the animal wouldn’t let me get close enough.”

The man’s face turned thoughtful. “Who?”

“One of the ‘A’ list passengers, Ms. Summers.”

“Replace her cabin steward with Roc. We’ll need to make sure it’s just a coincidence. She might be one of those paranoid wealthy types, but we can’t take any chances. We’ve only got one shot at this.”

The woman lifted her chin. “I told you I could be an asset.” Moving closer, she touched his arm and spoke softly. “I’m glad I can help. This is so important.”

Impatiently he moved to go. “Savana, I’ve got things that I need to attend to right now.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll take care of everything.”

After he closed the door, she waited a few moments before slipping into the crowded corridor.

*****

“Wow, I could seriously get used to this.” Buffy surveyed the luxurious cabin. It was certainly a nice surprise, considering the exterior look of the ship.

Placing Buffy’s overnight bag next to the neatly stacked suitcases, Spike dropped his duffel in the corner of the living area. He looked around curiously and agreed with the Slayer. This was definitely the nicest place he’d stayed in, bar none, since he and Dru used to travel with Darla and Angelus in the bad old days.

The luxury cabin was bigger than any Spike had seen before, with plenty of room for the two leather chairs and twin couches that floated in the middle of the room. At one end, a full size wall unit held a big screen television tucked unobtrusively next to a stereo with enough controls to run their own personal cruise ship.

The other end of the room held a large, fully stocked mini bar with a small glass front refrigerator next to it. Spike could see liquor and soda bottles and even blood through the clear doors. He was pleasantly surprised to note the microwave attached to the wall above the bar. Obviously the cruise line understood their vampire patrons appreciated warm blood. Sitting atop the bar was a large basket of fruit and other edibles.

A closed door next to the bar probably led to the bedroom and bath. Dropping down on the couch, Spike wondered if the Slayer had actually thought about their accommodations in any real way yet. He figured she’d been so harried, trying to prepare for the trip that she probably hadn’t thought through the implications of pretending to be together for several days.

Spike, on the other hand, had spent the previous few days worrying that living together in such a confined area, along with the constant pretending, would ruin their friendship. Possibly remove the easy camaraderie they had painstakingly built over the past few weeks and change it in some irreparable way. He couldn’t bear the thought of going back to the way it was before they’d become friends.

Empress padded over to the couch. Crooning, she stuck her muzzle against Spike’s leg and butted him. Absently Spike stroked the Grundy’s soft fur, trying to push aside his concerns as he watched the Slayer discover their view.

Buffy had been drawn to the full length windows at the far end of their cabin. A set of French doors opened to a private balcony that housed a patio table and chairs. Remembering that all glass onboard was magicked, she spoke over her shoulder to the oddly silent vamp.

“Spike, you’ve got to come over here and see this view.” Her voice held a tinge of awe. “It’s incredible.”

He shrugged off his melancholy and gave Empress a final stroke. Standing up, he joined Buffy at the window.

Awaiting some type of response, she glanced at him curiously. He quickly nodded. “Beautiful.” Satisfied, she went back to admiring the view.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spike watched Buffy stare out at the vast expanse of water, and secretly delighted in her obvious enjoyment. Hopefully the Slayer would have at least some free time on this trip to relax, she deserved a break. Hell, they all did for that matter. Still covertly watching her instead of the view, Spike noticed the setting sun had tinted her hair, turning it to molten gold.

“Absolutely beautiful.”

“Okay, that’s two lite beers, one Margarita, a house special with extra burdock root, and an O Pos Bloody Mary.” Xander swiped the room cards, easily moving down the bar to mix a martini and pick up empty glasses.

Brought up in a family of drinkers Xander knew his way around a liquor bottle and that coupled with a brief stint bartending near UC Sunnydale, had given him the confidence needed to do an excellent job aboard the Maladjusted, what all the employees called the Malfeasance behind the bridge crew’s back. All he’d had to do was spend the last two days learning the dozen demon drinks on the menu.

Piece of cake. After all a bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory.

Xander had also learned that demon ship or not, his coworkers were like any other under paid, over worked employees in every job he’d ever held, right down to the crappy polyester uniforms. They all hated the work and avoided doing as much of it as possible, while having no respect for either their Captain or any other authority figure on board. If Xander closed his eyes, he was right back at Taco Hut.

Having not yet finagled a look at the Captain or any of the bridge crew, he still listened avidly to all the gossip surrounding everyone higher up the food chain. It not only helped cement his standing with the other employees-along with the free booze and blood he snuck them - but at this point, it was impossible to tell what snippet they’d let drop that might be important to Buffy. After all, it was early days, and he’d just finishing serving his first wave of paying customers.

Seeing his smarmy demon boss throw him a satisfied smile, Xander smirked to himself. That one would never find out that his jovial new bartender simply itched to kill his customers, playing games in his head while he worked.

Let’s see, a long sword for the two martinis and the margarita on the right. A sharpened stake for the Bloody Mary on the left, shoved right through the center of his unbeating heart.

“Hi, welcome aboard. What can I get for you?”

*****

“I think it’s just a little farther down this hall.”

“That’s what you said ten minutes ago when we passed that amoeba shaped swimmin’ pool for the second time.”

“What did you expect their swimming pool to look like? Mickey Mouse? The ears could be the shallow ends.”

“That’s not the soddin’ point and you know it.”

She sighed. “Fine. So where do you think the library is located?”

He couldn’t resist. “Where all the books are shelved of course.”

******

Willow was bored witless. After three days, she had no wit left, absolutely none at all. So far she’d spent a lot of time playing the Rorschach game. The stain over there resembles a bat, that one’s definitely a tree.... The one over the long table was tough, but if she squinted her eyes just right, it resembled a Chumash warrior, replete with long knife. Or maybe holding a snake skin. Did they carry snake skins?

She shook her head and sighed. It was patently obvious that not one single passenger cared about the dog eared paperbacks moldering on the shelves of the Malfeasance library or the antiquated computers. Anyone that actually wandered in, and those were extremely few and far between, took one look and immediately turned on their heels. Willow completely understood. After all these computers weren’t for the faint of heart, or anyone who actually expected something comparable to Kinko’s or an elementary school classroom.

But they’d look pretty good in an eighties music video next to some heavy metal singer with a sledge hammer.

Since most demons didn’t care a fig for email, or have a clue how to actually operate a computer and employees weren’t allowed to touch them, it didn’t really seem to matter anyway that the place was a tomb.

Hopefully not literally a tomb. Because after all, I don’t want to be entombed. No sir, this is absolutely not a tomb kind of place. Maybe more of a nice cave, complete with its very own picture of a bat. Willow laid her head in her hands and sighed, wincing at the echo.

Excited that someone with an actual working knowledge of computers had finally taken the perpetually open position, Willow’s boss offered her the option of making her own hours, provided she came in at some point during both shifts and checked to see that the computers were still operational. Huh. Like it matters. So over the past couple days, she’d become sort of a drive by computer tech/librarian. Without any real need for the librarian part of the title, or the computer tech part either.

Her agreement had sent her boss gleefully flying out the door, never to be seen or heard from again. Willow had been so nervous in front of the excited demon that she’d forgotten to ask her name, or how she could be reached, or find out if she was really just a figment of her own overactive imagination, or considering the tomb-like state of the library, possibly a ghost.

With nothing better to do and expecting Buffy at some point, she’d spent the evening sitting at the desk playing the stain game or reading one of the few paperbacks that didn’t have blood or some other indecipherably creepy smear on the yellowed pages, and fighting to stay awake.

Hearing noises, she looked up to see Buffy and Spike stroll through the door with Empress. The Grundy was sporting an enormous stained peach bow with frayed ends and bouncing all around their feet.

She saw Willow, crooned loudly and dashed through the room, jerking her leash out of Spike’s hand. Dragging the leash across the floor behind her, she alternated between jumping straight up in the air and running full speed around the room, tail straight out behind her. After a couple passes, she added in sliding beneath the tables and chairs.

No one attempted to stop her. When the Grundy got in one of her excited moods, it was a whole lot better for everyone involved to just let her wind down naturally on her own.

“Hey guys, it’s so good to see you.”

“‘Lo Red, how’s gainful employment?” Spike took a look at the heavy lidded woman with the glazed eyes and grinned. “Tough gig, huh?”

“Demons just aren’t interested in joining the vast exciting world of the internet, or the smaller, more mundane world of the 1960’s paperback novel.”

She leaned down to speak to the Grundy during one of her flybys. “How’s my girl? Looks like you’ve definitely got your sea legs.” She pulled a piece of wood out of her top desk drawer and waved it in the air. “Here baby, this is for you.”

They all watched the little demon’s nose twitch. She sniffed the air and skidded to a stop beside the desk. Leaping in the air Empress snatched the chunk of wood from Willow’s outstretched hand. Clutching it in her mouth, she immediately laid down to happily chomp her snack, tail thumping mightily. She was starting to enjoy this trip a bit more now that a decent snack had put in an appearance.

Now that Empress was calmer, Buffy pulled a sheet of paper out of her pocket. “We’ve already got a little job for you.”

“Oh, a job is very good. What kind of job? ‘Cause I’ll do whatever. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“This is a sketch of a tat and we need to find out everything we can about it. It may be absolutely nothing, but it’s inked on the wrist of someone we got an odd feeling about and Empress seriously disliked. We’ll check back tonight after dinner, say around 11:00.”

Willow was already sitting down at a computer. “I’ll check it out and wait here for you. If I’m asleep, just nudge me.”

*****

Having left to find the library immediately after sharing their stunning view, the couple rushed back to their room to unpack and change before dinner. They had barely closed their door when someone knocked loudly.

Spike opened the door to find a short uniformed demon with a ruddy complexion and three nose rings. “I’m Roc, your room steward. Somehow I missed you earlier.” Starting to push past Spike, he tried to cross the threshold.

Spike smoothly blocked his entrance. “Nice to meet you, mate, but I’m afraid now isn’t a good time for a visit. My girl’s gettin’ dressed for dinner.”

“I’d like to make sure that everything has been prepared to your satisfaction. The cruise line takes its responsibilities very seriously and so do I.” He moved to walk around Spike when a snarling Grundy blocked his way.

Empress watched him, serrated teeth bared as Spike gripped his arm, wrinkling the sleeve of the pristine uniform. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you. She hasn’t had her dinner and neither have I.” He shifted into game face for an instant.

The steward held his other hand up. “No problem.”

Spike released his arm. “Nice tat.”

Standing up straight, the steward stared into the vampire’s cold eyes and replied sullenly. “I’ll check back with you at another, more convenient time. Please enjoy your stay.”

Buffy walked in from the balcony where she’d gone to check out the view again as Spike firmly shut the door. “Who was that?”

“Some room steward. He wanted to come in for a visit, but Empress and I decided now wasn’t a good time. He didn’t take it well.”

Buffy frowned. “I’ve never been on a cruise, and this is a demonic one, so I guess that makes me less than an expert, but the employees here have been pretty crummy so far.”

“They’re all terrible, but don’t let it get to you, Slayer.”

“Yeah. It’s not like I had to pay for it and hey, on the upside at least none of them have tried to kill us yet.”

“I’d say ‘yet’ is the operable word here. Buffy, he had a tattoo on his wrist that looked a lot like the one Red’s lookin’ up.”

“It’s a good thing we’re checking it out, because unless it’s some sort of indentured servant thing, we need to know what’s going on. We really need to find Aria sooner rather than later, too, just in case. But right now, we both have to change so we don’t miss our dinner seating. Maybe it’s the salt air, but I’m starving.”

Spike watched the Slayer pick up her suitcases and head for the bedroom. Worried, he grabbed his stuff and followed.

Buffy stood inside the door staring at the king sized bed that comprised the entire room. When she turned toward him, Spike set his bags down. “Slayer?”

“It looks like we have two bathrooms and even his and hers dressing areas with a closet in each.” Her voice sounded amused. “They gave us two of everything else; too bad they didn’t split the one big bed into two little ones.”

“I can sleep on the couch or even on the floor. It’s not a problem, pet, I’ve slept on far worse.” Relieved at her manner, he offered quietly and waited.

She thought it through. “We’ve got to stay underneath the radar as just another couple on vacation and now we’ve got that steward to consider, too.” She bit her lip, trying to decide what to do.

Spike was starting to fidget in the growing silence when Empress trotted into the room. Pushing past the couple, she leaped, settling in the middle of the huge bed. Her head on her front paws; she looked at them and sighed loudly. Simultaneously, they both chuckled, shattering the uncomfortable silence.

Squaring her shoulders, Buffy announced, “I think we should compromise, the bed’s plenty big enough for all of us.” Before Spike could respond, she shrugged. “It’s really no big. Besides, it’ll be fine with the Grundy between us. She’ll be our furry chaperone.” Embarrassment crossed her face. “Not that either of us needs a chaperone of course, it’s just a figure of speech.”

“Of course, pet. Never thought it was anythin’ else. That sounds like a good solution.”

“I’ll see you in a little while, I’m going to take a shower and get dressed for our first Time Tunnel trip.”

Carrying her bags, she headed into her dressing area, certain that she’d made the right decision. Sure, it would be a little strange sleeping next to Empress, with Spike right on the other side, but the bed was enormous and neither of them nor the Grundy took up much space, so there’d be plenty of room. Besides, they’d already shared a motel room once before and this time they even had separate bathrooms.

Left standing by the bedroom door alone, Spike was pleasantly surprised at the Slayer’s announcement. He hadn’t expected that much rationality from Buffy Summers. Waiting through that interminable silence, Spike had expected the Slayer to request that he sleep on the sliver of available floor. For the sake of their friendship, he’d already decided he would agree. Instead she’d offered to share the bed with him and the Grundy.

Spike chuckled to himself. He knew the Slayer thought this a novel approach; all of them together in one bed, but Spike was a vampire. He’d slept away many a day in spaces that held Dru, sometimes Darla and even Angelus a few times. To quote the Slayer, it’s no big.

And although Buffy wasn’t aware of it, Spike actually slept every night with Empress. The Grundy enjoyed the soft bed over the hard crypt floor and Spike craved the warmth her fur provided. The only difference between the crypt and this cruise would be the Slayer sleeping on the other side of Empress.

Shaking off a tantalizing image of Buffy sleeping in a sheer nightgown that rose unbidden in his brain- where the bloody hell had that come from? Must have been the Slayer’s chaperone comment-Spike grabbed his own stuff and headed for the second bathroom. It was also time for him to do the Time Warp. Happily humming Riff Raff’s contribution, Spike closed the bathroom door.

Once the bathroom doors were both shut, Empress lifted her head and waited. When she heard both showers start, she reached around and tugged lightly with her teeth. The frayed peach bow pulled free. Holding it in her teeth, she dropped to the floor and crawled under the bed, stuffing the wrinkled bow in the far corner.

Satisfied with both of tonight’s achievements, she jumped back on the bed and settled down again. Dropping her head back on her front paws, the Grundy smugly waited for her two favorite, albeit thick, caretakers.

*****

“Hey, Will. Have you seen Buffy yet? What’s up?”

Willow glanced up from the monitor. “Hi Xander. Buffy and Spike left here about a half hour ago. How was your first day serving actual people?”

“I think the term ‘people’ should be applied in the loosest sense of the word. I served more demon drinks than I did actual liquor, although none to a certain you-know-who.”

Xander dropped in a chair, propping his feet on Willow’s dusty desk. “Did you know that the Captain hired a new first mate for this cruise? The last one fell overboard from the bridge during the end-of-cruise employee party a month ago. I think it definitely gives a new perspective to that saying ‘party ‘til you drop.’”

“Really? That’s interesting, I guess.” Distracted, Willow tapped the computer keyboard before adding, “You should definitely keep an eye out for you-know-who, although I’m beginning to think that sounds too much like a Harry Potter novel. We need to come up with a better word for her. Although she is a demon, so maybe that one really does work.”

Idly Xander picked up Willow’s paperback and read the back cover. Disgusted, he laid it back down. “So, Will, when it comes time for the party at the end of this cruise, remind me to say thanks, but no thanks. I mean, they could be out here, right? They wereused to swimming distances and at the end, they seriously hated me.”

“Xander, I don’t think the Sunnydale swim team is way out here.” Willow stared into the old monitor and started typing again. “I just hope that picture Dess gave us is current. Otherwise we’re going to have trouble finding you-know-who in this crowd. I understand why we couldn’t have any contact ahead of time to set up some kind of real meeting, but it’s difficult to locate a single person among several hundred, especially on a ship that’s three levels. And we don’t have a clue what she likes to do. What if she spends all her time inside the casino or something?”

She watched Xander checking out the small pile of paperbacks next to her desk. “I could probably hack into the ship’s data base and find out which cabin she’s in, but I’m afraid they’ll detect me. They’ve probably got someone who knows what they’re doing up there for security. What if they noticed I was looking for a particular person? It’s too risky.”

Willow knew she was babbling, but she’d had a lot of time on her hands the last couple days to get her worry on.

Used to his best friend’s babbling, Xander shrugged. “I’m just hoping her hair is still the same way it is in the photo. It’ll be fairly hard to miss someone with long black hair and bleached white ends, even among this crowd.”

He watched Willow read the computer screen for a minute before continuing his train of thought. “But if she’s anything like Anya, then it’s a lost cause, because that picture will be four shades and three hair styles ago.”

Willow glanced up from the screen again. “Where is Anya? I haven’t seen her all day. I miss you guys being able to walk in and talk to me.”

“She’s taking a nap. That demon she’s stuck working for decided that since the store has to be open 24/7, they all have to do split shifts. She has to go back in at 11:00.”

“Why, that’s terrible.”

“Such is the plight of the retail worker bee. So, having never seen you do anything the past two days but read and sleep the sleep of the bored, I ask again with greater curiosity, what are you doing?”

Still clicking away on the keys, Willow brought Xander up to date. By the time she’d finished explaining, he’d pulled his chair around to block anyone’s view from the door and they were scrolling through the information that had finally popped up.

“I couldn’t even get in the cabin,” Roc complained to his boss. “That vampire and his nasty Grundy refused to let me in.” He clenched his fist. “They definitely need an attitude adjustment.”

“Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself. The Captain might discover that Savana changed your duty roster and start asking questions we don’t want to answer. Wait until they’ve left for the evening and then do a fast search. If you find nothing of interest, we’ll ignore them. The plan is more important than some rich couple playing around with the ship’s weapons rule.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go; I’ve a meeting to attend and then I’m going to invite my new girlfriend to have dinner with me.”

Roc smirked at the handsome ship’s officer. “It’s amazing she hasn’t tumbled to you yet, but you’ve always had a way with the ladies.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll finally figure it out.” He carefully straightened his uniform, picking a few pieces of lint from his shirt. “Especially when she discovers her pretty has disappeared and we’re long gone.”

****

Buffy stared in the mirror, tugging at the short blue bubble skirt. The netting definitely looked a little crooked. She reached down and straightened a seam on her fishnet tights. At least they were straight.

Biting her lip, she fluffed her bangs once more and grimaced at how stiff they felt. She’d used nearly an entire can of White Rain to achieve big hair. Some blue eye shadow and her look was complete.

Stepping back from the mirror, she fixed a slipping spaghetti strap on her black camisole and tugged the entire top into place. She hadn’t realized how much too small the borrowed top was until now. It pushed her breasts up until they looked as if they were being served on a platter. At least the myriad necklaces looped around her neck helped to offset the effect and the ship would be dark anyway.

She slipped into her heels and pulled on the black fingerless gloves. Madonna, eat your heart out.

Adding six bangle bracelets including the bracelet, she took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. Humming Girls Just Want to Have Fun, she strolled into the living room.

Spike was staring out the window when he heard the musical stylings of Cyndi Lauper hummed slightly off key. Turning around, he chuckled. “That’s the perfect look for you, Summers, I know I’ve always thought of you as a material girl. But shouldn’t you be warbling Into the Groove?”

She danced a couple steps before replying. “I don’t know all the words. You know this could be fun after all.”

Eyes lingering on her chest, Spike ran his tongue across his teeth. I’m havin’ fun already. “As your boyfriend for the evenin’, I’ll need to keep a close eye on you.” Because she’s bloody gorgeous.

“Fine, you can be my boytoy for the night.” And in those clothes I don’t think I’ll mind a bit.

Buffy ran an appraising eye along Spike’s costume, starting with his Puma tennies- where does a vampire buy vintage tennis shoes?- followed by the pair of tight, acid washed jeans that hugged his very nice butt. The look was completed with a white tank that not only highlighted Spike’s muscled arms, but emphasized his washboard abs. Simple custume, but very hot. He was carrying a short jacket slung over his arm. The vamp had even combed his hair differently; it was styled like he’d walked straight out of a John Hughes movie. How does he do that without a mirror? Buffy suddenly wondered what other clothes Spike had brought with him and how had she never noticed what a hottie the vamp was?

“You look great Spike; sort of Lloyd Dobler-ish, but without that enormous boom box.”

Spike shook his head. “That’s a bird’s movie. Cusack was better in Grosse Pointe Blank.”

Buffy grinned. “It figures you’d go for the one with all the violence or maybe it’s Minnie Driver.”

“Minnie’s alright, but you’ve got to admit that bit with the ink pen was bloody brilliant,” Spike countered, looking around for Empress. The Grundy tended to run haphazardly when she was excited and it caused her fur to get all bollocksed up. Spike caught a flash of fur beneath a chair and hauled her out.

Empress protested loudly. She didn’t want to go anywhere right now. She’d just discovered the chair bottoms had extremely interesting smells.

Buffy tried to flatten the Grundy’s fur. It was sticking up all over. “Well, yeah, the pen was inventive. I sure wish Sunnydale High had had a furnace like the one in that movie back in the day. It certainly could have made cleaning up bits and pieces a whole lot easier. Hey, I’ll bet you didn’t know that Willow did the same thing once to a vamp, only she used a pencil. She’s every bit as good as Cusack”

Spike grinned. He was pretty sure the Slayer didn’t realize that she’d just favorably compared her best friend to a stone cold hit man.

Buffy saw the fleeting grin cross the vamp’s face. What did I say? She shrugged and continued her original line of thought. “But what’s really brilliant is the way we match tonight, like a real couple. I wasn’t sure once we were out from under the Council’s thumb that you’d be up for the retro thing. I was honestly expecting you’d be dressed for the eighties without any of the actual eighties part.”

“Don’t want to hurt that bird Aria’s chance of gettin’ out of this mess in one piece.” Spike hid a smile as he bent down to attach the Grundy’s leash to her collar. He didn’t want to admit out loud that he’d wanted to make Buffy happy and if dressing up like some berk on this trip would accomplish that, he’d do it in a New York minute.

“Besides, I’m not plannin’ on anythin’ more than just different jeans and a couple of shirts.”

“That works for me. I just don’t want to do the whole dress up thing solo.” Buffy continued to examine the hyper Grundy with a critical eye. Something was missing. “Spike, where’s her bow?”

“No bloody clue. She wasn’t wearin’ it when I finished dressin’.” Spike caught the smug expression that crossed the Grundy’s face. “Lost it huh? Don’t think it’s quite that easy.”

He looked over at Buffy. She was combing the Grundy’s furry tail. “We’re going to have to mount a search, she’s hidden it somewhere.”

“That’s okay; I’ve got something else for her anyway.”

Spike chuckled at the Grundy’s crestfallen expression. “Told you so. If we’ve got to look stupid, so do you. Remember, the quicker we get dressed and movin’, the faster we all get to eat. A little word to the wise, luv. If you follow the program, I’d bet the Slayer will make sure you get some of the ship’s fancy wood for dessert.”

The Grundy drooled. This floating town did have very tasty snacks. She supposed she could deal with the uncomfortable stuff tied in her hair. After all, it was their mission. And besides, wood.

Buffy came back in the room carrying a length of blue ribbon that matched her skirt. “I think we should carry weapons tonight, too. I feel odd without even a knife.”

“Sounds like a good idea, especially if we find that Aria bird and there’s trouble.”

Catching Empress’ eye, Spike spoke clearly. “Empress,reveal- first save.”

The Grundy obediently unhinged her jaw as she dropped her head. Since her first attempts at safeguarding items, Empress had been taught how to control what dropped out when. She’d been shown what comprised each grouping, or ‘save’ and obediently allowed two knives to drop to the floor. She rehinged her jaw and looked up, tail wagging.

“That’s my good girl,” Spike murmured while tucking away the small knife.

Buffy kneeled down and looked the Grundy straight in the eye. “This is part of our disguise Empress. It needs to remain on.” Empress instantly stilled.

Spike hid a smile behind his hand.

Buffy tied the ribbon around the Grundy’s ears at a jaunty angle, finishing with a large, full bow. “Now you match with us, sweetie. What a good girl. Did you see how still she stood, Spike? I think that deserves a treat after dinner. ”

He nodded solemnly. “She was very good.” When Buffy reached down to pick up her knife, Spike winked at the Grundy. She winked back.

Empress danced around Buffy’s legs, crooning softly. Now she really wanted to get moving, there was dinner and wood in the offing and maybe bad guys to destroy. Besides the faster they located their objective, the sooner the dumb bow could be enjoyably shredded.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“I think you mean ‘let’s book’, don’t you, pet?”

“Damn skippy.”

“I’m impressed Slayer.”

“Why? Can’t a girl do her homework and be completely prepared for an assignment?”

“Willow looked up slang terms for you, didn’t she?”

“Well, yeah. But I memorized a few of them. That counts.”

“That it does, pet, that it does.” Spike followed her to the door. “So what others did she give you?”

“You’ll see when I insert them appropriately into the conversation.”

Spike watched Buffy lean over to pick up the Grundy’s leash. “Wearin’ that outfit, every straight man in the room is goin’ to be thinking of appropriate insertion.”

Throwing her hair back, she grinned at the joke. “Then it’s probably a good thing I’ve got a gorgeous boyfriend on one side and a Grundy on the other.”

“Gorgeous, eh?”

Buffy rolled her eyes at the smirking male. “Now don’t go getting a swollen head.”

Spike grinned at the blonde’s unintended double entendre and followed her and the Grundy to the door. Watching you walking around all night in those clothes? Impossible request, pet.

He subtly shifted his tight jeans and concentrated on dinner.

*****

“So, what did you think of the meal?” Buffy waited while Spike picked up the little demon before walking out of the dining area. Empress was so stuffed she could barely waddle. It was probably a good thing they’d removed some of their weapons earlier. Physics dictated that there just couldn’t be much extra room inside the Grundy with everything she’d eaten tonight.

“The blood fountains were a bit over the top, but the demon bint was right about their freshness, and my steak was pleasantly undercooked, so I’d give it a good review.”

Besides I was sitting next to my two favorite girls. That made it perfect.

“Me, too. The fettuccine actually had a decent sauce. Considering the caliber of employees we’ve run into so far, it was surprising that the waiter was so efficient, although I didn’t know the names of some of those dishes, especially the desserts.”

“I think they were mostly demon.”

“That’s what I thought, too, so I stayed away from them. It was nice that Empress was allowed to sit in a chair at the table. I was surprised when they offered her three different types of dog food and two types of imported wood for dessert.”

She smirked at the little demon. “Although not as much as when she actually ate all of it. Up until tonight I was fairly sure we had a Grundy with us, but I think it’s possible that she’s actually a pig in a fur and scale suit.”

With great effort, Empress raised her head and sniffed.

Lowering her voice, Buffy asked, “I wonder how many of the Grundies we saw in there tonight are carrying weapons?”

“Lookin’ at that crowd, I think it’s all about guardin’ expensive jewelry.”

“I sure hope so.”

Walking into the library, they found Xander and Willow hunched over the computer screen.

“Hi Willow, we’re back. Hey Xander.”

“Wow, you both look like you’re ready to be interviewed by Martha Quinn for one of those classics shows.”

Buffy struck a pose and giggled. “We’re definitely VH-1 Classic tonight.”

Xander peered at the little demon still lolling in Spike’s arms. “Empress, you look really really round.” He looked quizzically at the couple. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Too much dinner and waaay too much dessert.”

Xander nodded sagely. “The food’s the only decent thing here. Just don’t order anything called ‘Mariner’s Delight’. I assure you from personal experience, it’s anything but delightful.”

“The waving tentacles definitely make it less delight and more ooh,” added Willow.

Buffy grimaced. “Since I enjoy my food the most when it lies quietly on the plate, I’ll remember that. So what did you guys find out? Is it a big nothing or a something?”

“How about a medium something?”

“Okay, so what exactly does that mean exactly? Willow?”

“The symbol on the employee’s wrist belongs to a demonic religious sect from the middle ages known as the ‘Followers of Hothis’.”

“Are they a problem?”

“That’s just it; I have no idea. The members of the sect are supposed to be pious. Their main tenet is belief in a supreme being, Hothis, who will lead them to a new homeland. They get those tattoos after a year as an acolyte and completion of a final grueling initiation ceremony, so any member with that tat would be the real deal.”

“What’s wrong with the homeland they’ve got now? And why would some of them be on the ship?”

“That’s the part that’s a little murky, although they don’t have a homeland right now; the sect has been nomadic for decades. But as a rule, they all travel everywhere together and there are well over four hundred members. So why there are just a couple onboard, your guess is as good as mine.” Willow sighed. “I’m sorry that’s all I could find with these resources.”

“We don’t know how many are actually onboard either. There might be more among the employees.”

“Buff, having spent many non-quality hours with the bar and wait staff I can say with certainty that unless the Hothis are heavy drinkers and nonstop complainers, none of my fellow coworkers qualify.”

Xander indicated the short sleeves on his uniform. “Not to mention that not one of them has a tattoo like that. I would have noticed, especially when they pass out drunk after their shifts and I have to drag them away from the bar by various appendages- and I do mean appendages.”

“Not everyone wears the same uniform. The wanker that tried to get in our cabin earlier had long sleeves. I didn’t notice the tat until I started to help him see the error of his ways.”

Spike set the protesting Grundy on her feet as Willow nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. Various sections have different uniforms, and some of us don’t wear one at all.”

“Xan, go ahead and make a few inquiries among the workers anyway, find out if anyone has noticed any Hothis onboard, either as employees or guests.”

“Will do. I’ll ask around once they’re drunk again. I guarantee they won’t remember any questions in the morning. ” Xander looked excited at the prospect. He’d scored a secret mission!

Willow opened another screen. “I’m going to email Giles and see if either he or the Council can come up with any more information.”

“That’s a good idea, but be discrete. We don’t know if anyone is reading the email.” The Slayer rose. “They don’t sound like a problem, but we need to make sure.” She glanced at her watch. “I guess at this point Spike and I go desperately seeking Aria.”

Spike looked amused. “I bet you’ve been waitin’ all evenin’ to say that one.”

“Well, yeah. I still haven’t worked in the last one though.”

“Which is?”

“Gag me with a spoon.”

“That one’s easy. Just ask for anythin’ from the late night dessert menu.”

She grinned and reached down for the Grundy’s leash. “Come on Forrest, it’s time to hand out some chocolates.”

He fell in step beside her and scowled. “I told you, don’t call me Forrest.”

****

Roc cracked the cabin door and peered down the hall. Empty. He slipped out, relocking the door with his master key card. Satisfied that no one had noticed, he hurried toward the stairs. Arriving at his destination, he opened another door and slipped inside where Zahn waited impatiently.

“Well, what did you discover?”

“Their luggage is full of nothing but clothing for the trip and not much more, although there are a couple things that don’t add up.”

“Such as?”

“For one thing, they have very inexpensive luggage. The vampire is using completely worn out Samsonite that looks like it belongs in a dump and an army surplus duffle bag. The girl has some moderate priced luggage that was sold several years ago. It’s just odd. Not to mention the clothes they wore on board are very inexpensive for “A” guests.”

“That’s it? Perhaps they’re just thrifty. It would certainly be surprising, but not completely unheard of. Is there anything else?”

“Not at this time.”

“I’ll have Savana keep an eye on them. You’ve told me enough for a niggle of doubt and we have to be certain there’s no one on board that will interfere with our plans. I may need to check them out personally, especially the girl.”

****

Opening the door to the ship’s casino, Buffy tried to adjust her eyes to the nearly total darkness and her ears to the old school heavy metal blasting loud enough to shake the walls. Obviously demons preferred losing their money accompanied by the sound of wailing guitars and dual drum kits. Wishing for a decent set of ear plugs to cut off Black Sabbath screaming from speakers directly above her head, Buffy squinted through the gloom to read a large notice posted inside the door warning that she’d just entered a magicks- free zone.

The cruise line doesn’t trust their demonic customers not to cheat. Huh. Imagine that.

Glancing around the room, she wondered how they could possibly enforce their rule when the only employee present was an elderly white haired demon. Feet propped on the counter, he sat in the change cage with eyes closed and ear buds firmly in place, wearing a derby and a beatific expression. Buffy tried to decide whether it was his choice of music or total neglect of the guests that made him so serene in the midst of all the chaos. Probably both.

I wonder what he’s got recorded in there. White noise? Gregorian Chants? Squirrel Nut Zippers?

She rapidly walked the casino floor, scanning the faces hunched over each machine. Staring intently into brightly lit monitors, the gamblers paid no attention to her at all. They were too busy expecting a complete row of cherries or a straight flush to show up on their very next pull.

Other than tinglies when she strolled by a group of vampires steadily losing at Black Jack, Buffy didn’t notice anything worthwhile. No Aria. Disappointed she headed back toward the door.

Oh well, I knew the idea was a gamble.

Giggling at her pun, she closed the heavy sound proof door with a happy sigh, sealing inside both Ozzie’s wail about blood on the walls and the myopic demon gamblers.

She looked for a good spot to wait for Spike. While she searched the casino, he’d agreed to take sleepy Empress back to their room for a nap until after the activities. They’d both agreed it was a good idea to get a feel for the types of things they’d be required to do before introducing the hyper, sometimes stubborn Grundy to the mix. Empress didn’t always play well with others unless she chose the game.

Restlessly tapping her foot, Buffy waited for Spike to make his way back across the ship. After another five minutes, she decided to continue searching the area around the casino and headed for the next door.

Double French doors opened into an enormous space with a soaring ceiling painted sky blue. White walls decorated with vibrant splashes of color made everything feel bright and airy. Piped through a quality sound system at a discrete volume, Celia Cruz and Tito Puente sang a duet backed by a talented steel drum band.

Several large paddle ceiling fans lazily moved sandlewood scented air, while sharing the ceiling with four large, yellow cages. Perched within each cage, live multicolored parrots watched the shoppers below. Buffy watched one parrot preen his feathers while another dipped his curved beak into a dish of seeds.

Entranced, she surveyed the room, trying to take in everything at once. Tagged items hanging from walls competed with merchandise artfully arrayed on painted wooden shelves. Floor to ceiling displays of herbs, candles and various other spell components filled one entire wall. Another wall of shelves held jars of various sizes and baskets piled high with foreign objects. Reading one of the signs, the Slayer realized it was imported demon foodstuffs.

Moving away from the strange edibles, she noticed the barrel of imported wood and made a mental note to come back and pick some up for Empress. Casting her eyes across the store, she also realized various things within the store had been magicked. A spinner rack of sunglasses spun automatically when a customer stopped to browse and a hand mirror appeared for the convenience of a customer who’d chosen a multi-colored silk scarf. The mirror steadily hovered in the air above the display table while the woman examined the vivid scarf draped around her neck.

This place is a cross between Kingston Jamaica and Diagon Alley.

Turning around Buffy nearly tripped over a small four tiered shelf weighted down with chains, manacles, studded collars and various weapons. She ran an appreciative finger along the blade of a long knife.

On the other side of a table full of delicate conch shells, she discovered a rack that held several vintage gowns. Carefully sliding the hangers across the rack, Buffy sucked in a breath. In front of her was the most stunning velvet gown she’d ever seen in her life.

“Hi Buffy.” Anya walked up and smiled at her friend holding the dress in front of her, staring into the full length mirror that had immediately appeared.

Turning over the price tag, Buffy reluctantly put the wine colored dress back on the rack. The mirror vanished.

Anya gently fingered the velvet. “These dresses are very expensive, although that one certainly complements your skin tone and hair and that style would be perfect, too. Are you here shopping for a dress or looking for me?”

“Hi Anya. I do need something to wear to that final dance if I decide to go, but it definitely won’t be this dress. I could afford it if I didn’t need to eat for the next six or seven years. Actually, I didn’t realize this was a store until I’d walked in here. I’m still looking for our contact.”

The ex-vengeance demon nodded. “I see. Well you’re right, you’ve entered the ship’s store where I and my co-workers toil for minimum wage while the supervisor receives much more compensation and toils far less. It is an extremely inequitable system. She can’t even keep the books straight. It pains me to watch her inadequate attempts at double entry accounting. I fear for the store’s bottom line.”

“Oh.” Buffy said faintly. She never understood half of what Anya complained about at the Magic Box, so she figured she was looking at about twenty percent aboard the ship.

Anya lowered her voice. “I haven’t seen her in here. She must not be a power shopper. Xander stopped by a few minutes ago and told me about the demon sect you’re interested in. I actually know a little about the Hothis. If you can wait a minute, I’ll tell you.”

At Buffy’s nod, Anya looked around briefly. “Bela?”

She’d called to a slightly orange woman with a beribboned horn in the middle of her forehead. Balancing on the top rung of a ladder, she was restocking a shelf with small glass boxes teeming with tiny eight legged creatures that resembled cowrie shells.

Buffy watched the creatures attempt to climb the smooth sides of a box, only to slide back to the bottom frustrated. Stoically, they made the attempt again with the same result. She wondered at the store’s logic of stocking them on such a high shelf. If they ever discovered that they could stand on each other to climb out the open top, they’d immediately fall on everyone standing below. Shuddering, she made the decision not to linger near that particular set of shelves. Ever.

Anya waited patiently until the sales woman finished stuffing the last box on the shelf before speaking to her again. “Bela, I’m taking my ten now.”

“Fine by me,” Bela agreed, nodding at Anya.

Mesmerized, Buffy watched the brightly colored ribbons tied to the demon’s horn bobble up and down along with the motion of her head. They matched the woman’s dress perfectly. She idly wondered if Bela had chosen her accessories based on clothing ideas shown in some demonic high fashion magazine. Remember dear readers, matching horn accents to your dress is this year’s style winner!

Anya steered Buffy to a bench in the corner of the wide hall and glanced carefully around before speaking. “When I was still a vengeance demon, I had a close friend that joined the Hothis sect. She wanted to join because they were strict vegetarians who disavowed material goods, didn’t imbibe alcohol or have sex. I think their ideas appealed to her after hundreds of years watching carnage caused by all of those things on a daily basis.

Except for the vegetarian part, we never got vengeance calls due to vegetables. Although I do recall after the turn of the century there was this one very graphic wish caused by fried okra and a ladle.”

“Anya, forget about vegetables and the uh, ladle. Tell me more about the Hothis.”

“Right. Well, I don’t think they’d really be a threat to anyone, unless you got in the way of their quest. It’s terribly important to them.”

“Quest? What kind of quest?”

“It’s really two quests combined into one. You know, like that commercial for Orbit breath mints that Xander likes with the hot British girl that becomes covered in mud? I’ve decided to meet him at the door some night covered completely in mud. It would probably make for ‘fabulous’ sex, although I can’t really decide if it’s the mud or the accent. I’m hoping it’s the mud, I’m not good with accents.”

“Anya, the quest?” Buffy tried to keep the impatience out of her voice while she scrubbed that visual out of her head.

Anya looked around briefly again. “Okay. First of all, they’re searching for the reincarnation of Ba’an Hothis, their murdered leader from the banishment time and secondly, they want to go back to Samshara, which is their original homeland. They consider it to be heaven on earth.”

Buffy waited while Anya glanced over her shoulder again. She realized Xander had coached her on proper spy behavior. “Anya, its okay, no one’s watching us. Go ahead and finish your story. Please.”

“I visited my friend once after she’d joined the sect and she couldn’t seem to talk about anything else. It was an extremely boring visit, all except for the cucumber sandwiches. Those were excellent, very sweet and crunchy. I don’t think I’ve ever had any that good since. The Hothis certainly do know their veggies. Aside from that, my friend had become very intense, very focused on the quest. I didn’t visit after the one time, I don’t enjoy cucumber sandwiches that much.”

“Do you have any idea why some of them might be working on the ship?”

“Well, it could be because Samshara is supposed to be an island.”

Buffy mouth dropped. “Are you telling me that they think they’ll find their homeland by riding around on this cruise ship?”

Anya shrugged. “I have no idea. Why don’t you ask one of them? My friend was open about her beliefs. Very boring, but open.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. The two that we’ve encountered don’t seem the open type, more of the pushy, sneaky type, although I haven’t seen any evidence that they’d try to keep us from returning the bracelet. Besides, none of us has a clue how to find their homeland and I doubt very much that Aria Demaris does either.”

“Well, it’s your decision. After all, you’re team leader.”

“Huh?”

“Xander explained that when spies work together undercover on a case, there’s always a team leader. You’re our team leader. I believe you’re supposed to have some sort of code name, like alpha one.” Anya glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to get back to work so I can earn seven more dollars, which will actually turn out to be a dollar ninety after all the taxes and my employee lunch expenditure has been deducted. I’ll see you later Buffy. Give some thought to that code name. According to Xander, it’s vitally important if our mission is to be successful.”

Buffy watched Anya glance once more over her shoulder before entering the store. Her head swirling with Anya’s information, she replied belatedly. “I’ll think about it.”

A cool hand was placed on her shoulder. “Think about what pet?”

Buffy looked up. “A code name.” At Spike’s raised eyebrow, she roused herself and filled him in on the conversation with Anya, ending with her decision to leave the demon sect alone for now. “I don’t think we’ve really even made an impression. It’s just typical demon rudeness, nothing else.”

Spike lit a cigarette. He liked the Malfeasance’s obvious aversion to enforcing clean air rules. Passengers smoked anywhere and everywhere while dirty ashtrays filled every nook and cranny. He snapped his lighter shut. “On the contrary, I think we’ve made a definite impression.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone didn’t take into consideration the heightened senses of either a vampire or a Grundy. That bloody steward came back while we were at dinner and searched every inch of our cabin. His scent is all over the place. Empress had a fit. It was all I could do to keep her from rushin’ out to find him.” Spike blew a smoke ring. “In fact, if we didn’t have to make an appearance up on deck to keep from blowin’ our cover, I would have taken her myself.”

The Slayer groaned. “That’s it, I’m dead.” Stepping back from the screen, she anxiously watched her partner’s progress. “Oh no, they’re gaining!” She gripped Spike’s free arm. “Look out!”

“I’m doin’ the best I can.” Spike couldn’t keep the amused exasperation out of his voice.
So far they’d lost two out of three and this one looked a goner, too. “After all, I’m not the soddin’ pinball wizard.”

“The who?”

“That’s right. Tommy of course.” Spike stared intently into the screen and twisted the joystick.

“Wait a minute, who’s Tommy?”

“Well, no, really Captain Fantastic.” Spike wrenched his arm to the left. “You know I met ‘em once.”

“Who? Tommy?”

“Captain Fantastic.”

Buffy had the feeling she’d totally missed something. But even though Spike thought that wizard person was so fantastic he was probably really as bad as they were. After all, people always tended to remember old historical things in a better light than how they actually were. These itchy fingerless gloves were a good example. Madonna must have used gallons of hand lotion. Buffy had more empathy for the material girl after standing in her shoes-well, in her scratchy gloves.

She focused her attention on the game again. “Spike, they’re still gaining on you.”

“It’s the way the soddin’ ghosts move. They corner faster than I can.” He jammed the joystick to the right and then quickly to the left. “Damn, they’re still on my arse, even after eatin’ all those power pellets along the bottom.”

“They’ve blocked your road again, too.” Frustrated, Buffy glanced up at the score. That annoying team seven was ahead again. She couldn’t figure out how out of ten teams, they kept winning. First Missile Command and now this. The teams had been told at the beginning of the tournament that the old arcade games had been magicked to level the playing field between demons of various attributes, but still…..

A buzzer sounded and the Ms. Pac Man tournament was officially over. Team seven, consisting of two older men and a small blue boy that Spike said looked a bit like a Rekko demon were giving each other high fives and grinning.

“At least Giles would be proud, we improved each time. We lasted fifteen minutes longer this round than the last.”

Spike smirked. “Because this is a skill we’ll put to use many times in the years to come.”

“Trying to get away from ghosts? Hey, you just never know.”

Rather than trying to follow that line of reasoning, Spike worked the cramp out of his left hand. “Part of the problem is these joysticks, they’re too damn small for adult hands.”

“Who said you’re an adult?” Buffy smirked. She watched the demons climb the podium and claim their prize. “I wonder if one of them is a mage. You don’t think they cheated, do you?”

Spike grinned at the grumbling Slayer. “No, I think we royally sucked. Would you cheat to win one of those dollar store ribbons?” He turned his back on the proceedings. “I’m done with the parlor games. We made a showin’ and preserved our precious anonymity. Now let’s go to the bar and drown our sorrows.”

“I don’t think that’s a good word choice for a cruise ship. I’ve tried drowning before and I didn’t like it, so now I’m landlubber girl all the way.” Buffy eyed the excited winners again and added sourly, “Besides I’m just annoyed, not sad.”

Spike coaxed the stubborn girl. “Come on pet, we could use a break. These games have made us both tense and a glass of wine will relax you.”

“I’m not tense, just really, really alert.” She snapped her fingers to demonstrate. “See? Contrary to what this dumb contest showed, I’ve got lightning reflexes.”

“Uh huh.” He grabbed her hand and urged, “Come on oh alert one with the lightning fast snap. Besides you never know-we might find what we’re supposed to be out lookin’ for in the bar. I promise, just the one nightcap.”

“Fine.” She gave in and allowed Spike to gently tug her toward the door. “But just the one night cap or day cap, because it’s getting really late, or early, depending on your point of view and I must be more tired than I thought, ‘cause that didn’t make any sense, even to me.” Buffy gave a mew of displeasure. “This stupid boat has turned me into the rain man.”

Spike chuckled and opened the door for her. Neither of them noticed Savana, standing behind the pillar. Once they’d crossed the threshold into the hall, she reached down for her employee radio.

****

Buffy had a conundrum. Spike had grabbed her hand to tug her away from the game. Still linked together he hadn’t let go, even though they’d walked several feet down the hall.

This was the first time since they’d become close friends that he’d held her hand for any reason. Well, except for a couple times when he’d helped her up after she’d gotten knocked down in a fight. She’d done the same for him. But neither of them had continued to hold on afterward. That would have been seriously odd.

But now they were supposed to be undercover as a couple and that’s what couples did, they held hands. So she hadn’t said anything, figuring Spike was just trying to stay in character, and now, ten minutes later? It felt…natural. And the real punch line to the cosmic joke? She wasn’t sure anymore that she really wanted him to let go. Buffy bit her lip. What the heck did that mean? She cut her eyes to the vamp, trying to read his thoughts, but the hall was too dark. Striding down the hall, his expressive face was hidden in shadow.

Spike was holding an internal debate. Should he let go of Buffy’s hand? Or continue to hold it? Enjoying the warmth provided, he glanced sideways at the oddly quiet woman, trying to read her expression, but her face was hidden by all that puffy hair. What did she want him to do? It was the damn bed issue all over again. In typical Buffy Summers fashion, she’d put off their discussion on how to deal with the couple thing, too. Walking down the hall, Spike finally admitted to himself that this wasn’t the real issue. He just didn’t want to let go. In fact, he was pretty sure he never wanted to let go again. Bloody hell, now what?

He pushed through the lounge door and gently steered Buffy toward the back of the noisy room, reluctantly letting go of her hand. Feeling oddly bereft, he tried gauging her expression, but she was too busy trying to push empty chairs out of her path. Giving up, he asked, “Wine? Or something else?”

“A glass of white wine would be good. I’ll find a table.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Glad she had a moment alone to get her act back together, Buffy stood at the edge of the tables and allowed her eyes to adjust completely. Are all ships this dark at night, or just the ones run by demons? Maybe it keeps the inmates, I mean guests, from fighting. If you can’t see the guy that insulted you, it’s hard to throw a punch.

“Well, what do we have here?” The man suddenly appeared in front of her. “Very nice legs.” His eyes slowly walked her body as he continued to leer. “Hmm, I wonder, do they ever open?”

Buffy’s mouth dropped at the unbelievably rude drunk. But really, what do I expect? After all, drunk demon.

“Nice mouth, does it ever shut?” She shot back.

Completely ignoring her heated response, he shifted closer and put his hand on her bare shoulder. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“No.” This guy is such an incredible jerk.

“Do you know who I am, pretty?”

“First of all, I’m so not your ‘pretty’. Second, I’m thinking you’re someone who’s waiting for a job in the exciting world of fast food to open up, which would probably be a step up for you.”

He laughed as though she’d made a joke. “I’m second in command of this ship. Name’s Zahn.” Swaying slightly, his eyes lingered on her breasts. “How about a private tour of the bridge?” He licked his lips. “I’ll make it fun, I promise.”

“Well, let me tell you something, second-in-command-Zahn. If boredom were fatal, you’d be a serial killer and I’d have become your next victim.” Firmly removing his hand from her shoulder, Buffy gritted her teeth. “Now, why don’t you go away. In fact, that uniform looks itchy, so why don’t you go and slip into something more comfortable, like a really deep coma.”

Completely ignoring the insult, he raised a hand and ran it lightly down her arm. Playing with the bangle bracelets for a moment, he reached down and clasped her hand in a slimy parody of the way Spike had held it earlier. “You know blondie, I can’t remember the last time a woman said no to me, but I love a challenge. You make me want to try that much harder.”

“I’ll show you harder.” Buffy jerked her hand away, balling it in a fist.

****

“Harris, what are you doin’ workin’ again?” Spike leaned against the bar.

“Volunteered. It’s another chance to spot our quarry.”

Quarry is it? He really thinks he’s in a bloody spy movie or on a safari. A vision rose of the Whelp, wearing a pith helmet, binoculars glued to his eyes, peering through tall rushes. Spike had just added something large and nasty jumping down from a tree when loud laughter erupted at a corner table. He glanced in their direction.

“What are you servin’? They’re havin’ too much fun to be aboard this bloody tub.”

“It’s the free booze. Private party, they’re all being comped. Both tables are employees of the company that owns the Malajusted.”

Spike barked a laugh. “Bloody perfect misnomer. So, what wankers would that be?”

“Some big L.A. law firm, name of Wolfram and Hart. The group sitting at those tables comprise the entire ritual sacrifice department. They’re on a company retreat.”

“I guessed it was lawyers from the name.”

He and Xander watched while one of the men in the group plucked an olive from his martini glass. Flourishing it in the air briefly, he placed it gently on the table in front of him. Muttering something, he plunged a shrimp fork straight through the pimento. The table erupted in drunken laughter as someone handed him another olive.

“I told them they couldn’t do anything in here I’d have to clean up. That’s when they said they were on vacation.”

Spike smirked at the thought of Xander cleaning up an actual sacrifice with his bar rag. Adjusting the daydream, he inserted an extremely messy sacrifice in lieu of the hunt.

Harris continued to natter on, and reluctantly pulled Spike back to reality. Sure that he hadn’t missed a thing, he focused in on Xander again.

“….Bartenders get a bonus if we sell enough. Since I’m actually working on this trip, unlike some I could mention, I might as well try for it. I agreed to work double shifts and fill in for anyone out sick. Besides, like I said, more possibilities.”

“Well, in the spirit of staying undercover and helping with your bonus, give me a double of your best scotch.” Spike smirked. “After all, either the Council or that rich demon will be payin’ for it.”

Xander grinned. As much as Bleach Boy drove him completely around the bend, they were kindred spirits when it came to the Council. “True enough.” He reached under the bar, pulled out the good stuff and poured a generous serving. “Anything else?”

“Buffy wants a glass of white wine.”

“Where is the Buffster?”

“She’s right over there.” Spike turned to point. “Bloody hell.”

Xander set the wine glass down on the bar. “Uh, you might want to get over there before there’s bloodshed and your cover is completely blown.” Squinting through the darkened room, he hissed. “Spike, don’t let her deck him. It’ll draw a whole lot of unwanted attention. That’s Zahn, the Captain’s right hand man.”

“If I don’t stop her fast enough, the wanker might not have any hands, left or right.” Grabbing the drinks, he hurried back to the Slayer.

Absolutely fed up with the drunken officer, Buffy took aim and pulled her fist back.

A pale hand covered her fist and squeezed briefly. “Is there a problem here luv?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She glanced at the vampire that had materialized beside her. “This is Zahn. He’s about to learn the actual meaning of ‘no thanks’ the Buffy way.”

“He’ll be learnin’ much more than that if he doesn’t sod off.” Catching the man’s eyes, Spike stared into them. “You need to step away from my girl.”

Buffy felt a little shiver. His girl. She knew Spike was only playing his part, but still…. Spike’s girl.

She watched Zahn lurch away from her, holding both hands up in the universal sign for surrender. “Oh, are you two together? I saw blondie here all alone and thought she needed company.”

Gritting his teeth, Spike repressed the instinct to smash the drunk into very small pieces. He placed his arm around Buffy’s waist, tugging her close. “Listen mate, I’ve been as pissed as you before, so I’m willin’ to cut you some slack, provided you leave right now.”

“No problem.” Zahn dropped his hands. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.” He smiled blearily at the couple, turned and walked slowly toward the door, bouncing into an empty table on the way out.

In the hall Zahn stood up straighter and slipped through an adjacent door marked ‘employees only’.

Roc stood up when the door opened. “What did you find out?”

“You and Savana were right. There’s something off about those two alright.”

“Any idea what?”

“For one thing, the blonde woman is the contact. The bracelet is on her arm right now.”

“Are you sure that’s the right one?”

“I touched it.”

“Let’s go back and get it now.”

“No, it’s too public and her boyfriend is with her. We don’t want an alarm raised. This doesn’t change a thing, we’ll continue as planned. In fact, it just made everything much easier. After all, we now know for certain our informant was correct, the exchange will occur on the ship. Go find Savana and fill her in. She can tell the others.”

****

Buffy waited until the officer left the bar before exploding. “If that guy’s one of the people in charge of running this ship, I fear for our lives. I don’t think he could drive his way out of a paper bag, and even if he could, his bag would be too full, what with the large economy size bottle of Bacardi in it.”

“I think the term is steer his way out.” Spike replied absentmindedly. He dropped his arm and stepped away, leaning over to pick up his drink and the wine glass. Taking a deep drink of his scotch, he handed Buffy the glass of wine. “There’s somethin’ wrong. How long was he over here?”

Oddly disappointed that Spike had placed distance between them so quickly, Buffy took the offered wine glass. “Too long.”

He shot her a look.

“Maybe ten minutes? He showed up right after you went to the bar. Why?”

“Because if that bloke was drunk, I’m goin’ swimmin’ tomorrow at high noon with you in the outside pool.”

“What are you talking about? He could hardly stand up, which I might add, was the only reason I hadn’t decked him, yet.”

Spike drained his glass. Setting it down on the table his eyes narrowed. “There was no scent of liquor on his breath or his clothes and his eyes were crystal clear. His pulse was normal and he wasn’t slurrin’ his words. I just now drank more than he’s had all night.”

Buffy looked startled. “If he wasn’t drunk, what was that little scene about?”

“I have no bloody idea, but I don’t like the possibilities.”

“I don’t either. Come on Spike, we’ve got a lot to think about and it’s nearly dawn. I say we get a good night’s- well, day’s- sleep and hash this over with everyone tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m a bit knackered myself.”

Buffy woke up disoriented, wrapped in the quilt and what felt like a fuzzy rug. Opening her eyes, she realized it was Empress. The Grundy, eyes closed and loudly snoring had her fluffy tail across her stomach. Buffy could see Spike’s outline under the quilt on the other side of the Grundy, his face turned toward the wall. She was suddenly glad that vampires didn’t snore. She couldn’t imagine getting any sleep otherwise, Empress was loud enough for all three of them.

Everybody in bed together hadn’t turned out so bad after all. When they had returned to the room this morning, Buffy left to take another shower and wash all the hairspray out of her hair. Spike had walked Empress down to the pet area and he’d returned before she’d finished blow drying her hair. He and Empress were both under the covers asleep when she’d crawled into bed, the sun just beginning its inexorable climb.

Buffy pushed Empress and her furry tail over toward Spike. The Grundy continued to snore. Glancing at the clock, she grimaced. It read 3: 45. My internal clock is going to be so screwed up after this. I’m not going to know my a.m. from my p.m. Throwing the covers back, she stood up and stretched.

She walked over to the little refrigerator and pulled out some orange juice. Chugging the small container, she dropped it in the trash and walked back in the bedroom. “Spike, wake up.”

Rolling over on his back, he opened his eyes. Taking in the tousled looking Slayer in the blue pajamas, he smiled. “Mornin’” Stretching himself, he poked the Grundy. “Empress, get your arse up, or I’m climbin’ over you.”

The Grundy opened one eye, sniffed loudly and closed it again.

Spike shrugged. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it.” He piled all the covers on top of the little demon and started crawling toward the bottom. The Grundy leaped from beneath the mountain of bed linen and jumped on Spike’s back, knocking him flat. Grabbing a mouthful of the faded gym shorts Spike had slept in, she growled deep in her throat.

With an answering growl, Spike swiftly rolled over and threw his arms around her chubby middle, pulling her to his chest. The Grundy struggled, but the vamp refused to relinquish his hold. Pressing the struggling demon to the bed one handed, he playfully ruffled her fur. The Grundy snorted loudly, twisting until she managed to flip over. She lightly bit Spike’s arm and he grabbed her muzzle. They rolled all over the enormous bed, arms, legs and paws flailing.

Standing by the bed Buffy laughed until tears ran down her face. While she wiped her eyes, Spike and Empress glanced at each other. In a perfectly coordinated two prong attack they jumped the Slayer. The little demon grabbed the bottom of her pajama top and tugged as Spike grabbed her arms.

Caught completely unprepared Buffy felt herself yanked forward. She caught her big toe in one of the sheets that were all over the place by now and landed sprawled across the bed on her stomach. “Oof. Hey!!”

Spike, expecting the Slayer to stand her ground, wasn’t prepared when she stumbled and fell forward. Losing his balance, he and the Grundy fell with her.

Empress, realizing she was about to be squashed beneath the Slayer, relinquished her hold and leaped out of the way. Spike, his legs wrapped in the quilt from his fight with Empress, wasn’t that lucky. He landed right across Buffy.

“Ouch. There has to be a more graceful way to wake up. Oh wait, I was already up.” Buffy’s wry voice came from somewhere beneath Spike and the sheets. “Spike, you can move any time, you’re kind of heavy.”

She could feel the Spike’s muscular chest pressed against her back. The voice inside her head gulped. Oh my God. He needs to move now. While an even smaller voice whispered. Why? Have you seen him in those shorts? Oh, bad, bad voice.

Spike’s rueful response broke into her less than pure thoughts. “Hang on a bit, pet. I’m trapped in the quilt; it’s twisted around my legs. I don’t want to rip it if I don’t have to.” Spike slid his left hand out and tried to reach his right hip, where the quilt was bound tightly around his legs. He felt more than saw his position. I’m half on top of the Slayer.

With that realization, he could barely attempt the task; his attention had focused to a narrow beam, concentrated solely on the woman twisted up in the sheets with him. Her scent, the warmth and feel of her soft skin, all coalesced together and the voice inside his head cataloged it all. I’ve got to get up. An evil little voice begged the question. Why? Why move at all?

Spike grimaced. He had to move and soon. “Empress, get your bloody arse over here and pull on these sheets. You helped create this mess.” This wondrous mess.

Cutting his eyes to the side, he tried to see through the blonde hair covering his face. She smells like lemons. The Grundy was calmly sitting at the farthest corner from the couple, watching them. When Spike spoke, Empress smirked, jumped to the floor and padded out of the room.

“Looks like you lost your help. How are you doing on the mummy unwrapping?” Buffy’s voice sounded desperate to her own ears. The air conditioning must have broken; it’s getting warm in here.

“I’m goin’ to kill that damn Grundy.” He could feel the Slayer’s body heat warming the sheets. Or kiss her for this bleedin’ tragic situation. Or maybe I’ll kiss Buffy instead. He nearly groaned. That’s it. I need to move. Now.

Wrenching his arm free, he heard the seams give way. Buffy felt the sheets and the quilt slacken. Spike rolled off, landing on his back beside her.

Inhaling deeply, Buffy sat up, peeling the sheets away. Her face was flushed. “We’re really late. I’m going to get dressed.” Head down, she rabbited toward her bathroom.

“It’s definitely late alright.” Spike fled into the other bathroom.

Empress lay on the couch and listened to the twin door slams. Both of her companions were too stubborn for their own good and they were going to need more assistance. She knew what they felt even if they refused to admit it. Yet.

******

Openmouthed, Spike couldn’t keep from staring. The Slayer had just walked out of her bathroom wearing a skin tight dark red leather mini skirt topped with a ripped black midriff tee shirt. Thigh high black boots and a chain belt completed the ensemble. She’d left her hair long and flowing, but had added a couple of dark pink streaks. Heavy black mascara coupled with the eyeliner rimming her large hazel eyes finished the punk look.

Spike realized he was still staring and clamped his mouth shut.

Buffy grinned. “I knew you’d be doing punk, ‘cause, well, it’s you and I wanted us to match, so I’m going all Siouxie Sioux tonight.”

You’re a bloody wet dream come alive. “Siouxie Souix has nothing on you, pet. But how would you know about Siouxie and the Banshees?”

“I asked Willow to google punk rock for me.” She looked at his trademark black jeans, black tee and Doc Martens and giggled. “You look like you always do.”

Spike smirked. “Classics shouldn’t be toyed with, but I was goin’ to add some safety pins. Did my nails already.”

“Oh, that’s what I wanted to ask you. Could I borrow your black polish?”

“I’ll go you one better. Come over here and sit down.” Spike patted the couch cushion next to him. “I’ll do them for you.”

“Oh that would be great.” She plopped down and held out her hands. “Dawn usually helps me. I’ve always had trouble doing my right hand, slayer skills don’t seem to include little tiny brushes, I usually crush them.”

Spike shook the bottle. “Put your hand on my leg to steady it.” Wait, what am I saying? Am I insane? He started to offer her a flat pillow instead, but too late.

Buffy had complied, placing her hand just above Spike’s knee and spreading her fingers across the rough denim. Her fingers started to tingle and she immediately wished she’d grabbed a pillow instead.

Spike stared a moment at Buffy’s delicate hand splayed across his leg and swallowed.
“Slayer, I think we need to have a bit of a talk.” He deftly painted her nails, concentrating on making the strokes even. A good trick since my own hand is shakin’.

Buffy looked up from where she’d been watching his progress. “What about?”

“Us.” He felt her hand stiffen and quickly added, “I mean we haven’t actually discussed how we should be handlin’ this spy vs. spy act. That wanker last night made me realize it. When I walked up I wasn’t sure what you expected from me.”

He dipped the brush again and waited for her to switch hands. “I need to know what you have in mind.”

Buffy studiously watched the brush for a moment. “Um, yeah I realized it, too. But I think it’s going great so far and you handled him just fine. Uh, we should keep on as we’re doing, holding hands and whatnot. Is that alright with you?” She suddenly wished she could read his thoughts. What’s in his head?

It was Spike’s turn to pretend nonchalance. “Yeah, sounds good.” What’s bloody whatnot mean? He had the urge to ask if whatnot could be defined as kissing, but couldn’t choke the words out. Wanker. Say something, anything, this is your one chance.

“Spike?”

“Yeah pet?”

“Unless it’s some punk thing I don’t know about, I still need my thumb painted.”

He looked down. He’d put the brush back in the bottle and closed the cap. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

He completed the last strokes and stood up abruptly. “I’m goin’ in to do my safety pins.” Arse.

Buffy nodded. “Okay, I’ll sit here and air dry.” She watched him head into the bedroom and felt oddly disappointed. Maybe I should have offered suggestions? Like hey, kissage might make a good whatnot. Did I actually say whatnot? Oh My God. If my nails weren’t wet, I’d smack myself in the head.

Still berating herself Buffy almost ignored the Grundy until an insistent paw tapped her side. Empress stared into Buffy’s face.

“I suppose you heard all of that. Did I sound as much like an idiot as I think I did?”

The Grundy dropped her head.

“That’s what I thought.”

*****

“Hey, everybody’s here tonight.” Buffy smiled at her friends sitting in the library together. “How many demons did you kill to get some time off together?”

“Just a momentary break for everyone but Willow, who lives to dissect stains.”

“I can’t help it if everyone on board is off having a good time that doesn’t include keyboards.” Willow reached over to toss a piece of wood to Empress. The Grundy was wearing a spiked collar and her curved nails were painted black. “Empress you look awesome.”

The Grundy crooned, acknowledging the obvious and caught the wood neatly, settling down next to Willow’s desk so the witch could easily reach over for some premium petting.

Xander smiled at the couple. “Well, I knew what Spike would look like, no surprise there, but Buffy, you look like you’re ready to start moshing any moment.”

“That’s the idea, only without the actual pit. Did you guys find out anything more from Giles?”

“Actually the Council came through. It seems that we’re most likely dealing with a splinter group.” Willow looked down at her notes. “A couple years ago, several of the Followers of Hothis left the main group, which the Council has now located in Indianapolis.”

“Indianapolis? Huh. Any idea why they split off from the others? Other than unenthusiasm generated by living in the Hoosier state?”

“One of the leaders, a guy named Charne, tried to convince them that he had discovered the location of Shamshara.”

Buffy looked confused. “But isn’t that a good thing? Anya said that’s all they think about.”

“That’s true, but his declaration caused an internal power struggle between the old guard who refused to believe him and his own followers. Ultimately he lost and was branded a heretic. He and the group that followed him got the boot.”

“So the couple we’ve seen on the ship, they must be from that bunch.”

“That’s what the Council said. They also didn’t think there was much reason to worry about them. They don’t have anything to do with the bracelet; probably don’t even know it exists.”

“Then why did they search our room?”

“I don’t have a soddin’clue and don’t forget your suitor last night.”

Xander snapped his fingers. “I didn’t get the chance to tell you guys how strange that was either. The gossip on board is all about Zahn and his new gal pal, some rich girl. He’s infatuated and spends every waking moment with her, so there’s no reason to go trolling, even drunk.”

“That wanker wasn’t drunk.”

“I want you guys to see if you can find out any more info about Zahn from the other employees.” She turned to Spike. “Come on Spike, let’s go check out the dance floors, we still haven’t found Aria. I’m starting to believe she’s a ghost, not a demon.”

“What are you guys going to do with Empress tonight?”

“She’s going with us. Tonight’s activity is actually supposed to be mainly dancing. Because there were so many different types of popular music in the seventies they’ve set up a disco in one area, punk in another and slower, sort of moderate rock in a third. The guests are supposed to have fun experimenting with the different styles tonight and there are employees available to teach people different dances. Since these guys are in love with their low light, as in no light ambiance, we’re going to need Empress and her night vision to assist Spike. We’re not planning to dance; we’re going on a search mission.”

Xander stood up, too. “I’m going back to the lounge. I’ll keep watch there.”

Anya and Willow followed suit. “We’re both off for the next couple hours, so we’ll walk through the halls.” Willow handed Buffy a small radio phone. “This is an employee radio, we all carry them. If you need one of us, dial 556 and it’ll ring through to Xander. Don’t use it in front of any other employees, since you shouldn’t have one. We’ll keep checking in. Hopefully one of us will spot Aria.”

******

“Okay, we’ll wait by the door. Empress, go around the perimeter and then back through the middle. If you see her, come and let me know.”

The small demon nodded and waded into the sea of jean clad legs.

Anxiously, Buffy watched her disappear, immediately swallowed up in a large group of flowing granny dresses. She bit her lip. “Do you think she’ll be alright Spike? After all, she’s got the bracelet this time. If we lose her…”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You really think she’s goin’ to just disappear? There’s only one way in or out of here. Besides, I don’t think all these poncy demons together could stop her.”

He and the Slayer surveyed the crowd. Most of the middle aged vacationers were swaying together to a tinny version of Chicago’s ‘Color My World’.

“You’re right. The only thing they’ve been able to stop so far is Grammy quality music.”

While Spike joined the Grundy searching the dark room, Buffy leaned against the door frame and scoped out the crowd walking in and out. She watched one particularly large demon wearing a fringed suede jacket and desert boots chat up a woman with blonde Farrah hair by the nearby refreshment table. They both held cups of something purple that occasionally belched smoke. She suspected it wasn’t grape punch.

Amused, she watched two very tall demons dancing close together become entangled in each others’ crochet vests. Unable to remove the vests or free themselves, they appealed to an employee for help. Buffy was about to offer to rip them free when the employee returned with a pair of shears.

‘Color My World’ finally wound down and someone started singing about leaving a cake out in the rain while the icing melted. As the singer mourned the loss of the recipe, the two tall demons were finally freed. The other couple finished their punch and headed back to the dance floor.

“She’s not in here,” Spike reported, Empress by his side.

Buffy motioned them both forward. “Two more rooms to go. Hopefully the choice of music will be better. I mean, who leaves a cake out in the rain when they can’t bake another one? That’s just stupid.”

Spike had no response. He’d always thought that song was daft, too.

*****

Half an hour later the Slayer couldn’t stop staring at the pair of clear acrylic platforms worn by the woman standing next to her in the doorway. Diverted completely from the mission, she tapped the woman on the shoulder. “Excuse me, did your shoes start out with those goldfish in them?”

“They’re not goldfish, they’re miniature piranhas.” Waving at yet another Travolta clone, the woman sloshed away.

“Of course they’re not goldfish, because that would have been almost sane,” she muttered.

Spike walked up carrying two paper cups of punch. Buffy waved it away. “No thanks, I don’t smoke.” She watched him sniff cautiously at the cup. “Trust me Spike you so don’t want to drink that.”

“I think you’re right.” He pitched both cups of the odd smelling punch in the trash and returned to her side. Neither noticed the can begin to smoke.

Buffy rubbed her forehead. “These demons and that disco ball are giving me a headache.”

“This so-called music is givin’ me one.” Spike grimaced at the wrinkled woman wearing the silver lame jumpsuit shimmying to the falsetto of the BeeGees. “I bet grandma there would never let on those are her actual clothes. Few birds will admit their real age.”

Buffy surveyed the woman’s dancing partner, a heavy set man wearing a violently green leisure suit and a bad toupee. His yellow shirt, unbuttoned to the naval, displayed several gold chains draped amid thick chest hair.

“And even fewer men will act theirs.” She peered closer. That’s real fur. “Okay, seen quite enough. Let’s grab Empress and move on.”

“Right with you, pet.”

******

Buffy wanted to stuff her fingers in her ears, but instead grabbed the vampire next to her trying to make a run for the mosh pit. “Oh no you don’t.”

“But it’s the Sex Pistols with Johnny Rotten.” He tugged insistently.

“They’re pretty rotten all right.” She let go and Spike stumbled forward. He turned to glare at her and she grinned. “But I guess we do need to check the pit. I don’t want our Grundy anywhere near that.”

She smothered a laugh at the eagerness in his voice. “I think you’re right, pet, it wouldn’t be a good idea to let the Empress among all those boots. I’ll go and have a look ‘round, shall I?”

She waved him on. “Go.”

Watching Spike rush into the middle of the crowd, she looked down at the Grundy. “It’s like I said earlier. Few men ever act their age.”

The Grundy winked.

“Come on Empress, maybe we better find somewhere to sit, preferably as far from those speakers as possible. Something tells me it might take a couple songs for Spike to be completely sure Aria’s not in there somewhere.”

Looking for an empty table in the almost complete darkness while trying not to stumble into the black clad guests that blended into the ambiance, Buffy walked by the women’s restroom and shook her head at the winding line. Even on demonic ships we don’t have potty parity. She suddenly noticed long black hair with white tips on a petite woman at the end of the line.

Joining the line, she reached over to tap the woman’s shoulder and realized they were the same height. “Excuse me, are you Aria Demaris?”

The woman turned. She had silvery blue eyes outlined heavily with eyeliner. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m a friend of Dess and your aunt.” Buffy was about to stick her hand out when the demon hissed.

“Not here, I’m being watched. See the woman in the uniform, standing over by the wall.”

Buffy leaned her back against the wall and casually surveyed the room. She caught sight of the white polyester uniform. It was the female demon with the tattoo. Not lingering on the employee, she glanced toward the band and whispered. “I see her. We need to meet somehow.”

“I’ve got a plan.” Aria whispered back. She waited a beat before exclaiming loudly. “Oh, I love Grundies. May I pet her?”

Before Buffy could respond, Aria casually reached in her pocket as she knelt down beside Empress. The demon stared into the Grundy’s eyes briefly. Using her body to block anyone’s view, she laid something on the floor. Empress swallowed quickly.

Aria straightened and spoke loudly for the benefit of the others waiting in line. “She’s certainly a beautiful Grundy, good confirmation and very nice coat. I’ve always owned them, ever since I was really small. Right now I have a three year old male. He’s black with gray scales and his name is Bruno. Unfortunately he gets seasick, so he couldn’t come with me.”

She winked at Empress and Buffy watched the Grundy wink back. She’s really good at this James Bond stuff. Xander’s going to be so jealous when he hears about this.

The line moved again and Aria smiled at Buffy. “Maybe I’ll get to see you and your Grundy again sometime soon.” She disappeared into the stall. Buffy looked down at Empress. The Grundy wagged her tail. Completing the charade, Buffy waited her turn for a stall. When she walked back in the room a couple minutes later she found Spike looking for her. Aria had disappeared.

“It’s a note with the words ‘Bridge Tour’ written on it.” Buffy shredded the paper, tossing it into a nearby trash can. “Let’s go.”

By the time they located an employee who could actually explain when and where the next tour started, they discovered they had a scant ten minutes to rush up two flights of stairs and join the group of fifteen waiting in the hall.

They had managed to weave their way through the group, standing nonchalantly beside Aria as the tour guide coughed and called for attention. He began a monotone lecture on the history of the ship while motioning the group through a doorway.

Aria hung back while the group dutifully filed through the door. Glancing at Spike and Buffy, she turned into a small side corridor and stopped at one of several unmarked doors.

Once they were inside the small lounge, Aria locked the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, she dropped on a couch. “It’s okay now, we can talk. I didn’t want anyone to overhear us. The ship doesn’t have any type of security cameras, but employees use this corridor.”

She waited while the couple made themselves comfortable on the couch across from her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your names.”

“I’m Buffy Summers and this is my partner Spike. You’ve already met Empress.” Buffy surveyed the room and noticed a pale, thin demon standing quietly in the shadowy corner. “Who are you?”

“He’s with me. This is Dargo, my Tamarit.”

The silent man raised a hand in greeting. He had large gray eyes and shoulder length white hair. His skin was ivory, almost translucent in its paleness. The overall effect made Buffy think immediately of Casper the friendly ghost. If he wore jeans and Topsiders. “What’s a Tarma whoozit?”

Spike arched an eyebrow at Aria. “I’m sorry, pet, but you’re goin’ to have to explain. Neither of us has ever heard that term before.”

“I’m not surprised; the word doesn’t exist in human vocabulary. A Tamarit is sort of a combination bodyguard and companion. Dargo has been with me since I was a young child. I trust him completely.”

Buffy nodded. “Okay, I get that.” She turned to the quiet being. “What’s your take on the situation?”

“I’m sorry, but his kind don’t speak. Dargo and I are linked telepathically.”

“Oh.” Buffy felt a little tongue tied herself. This was rapidly moving into the realm of the weird. The Tamarit looked really old although Aria seemed about seventeen or eighteen. But who really knew how old either demon really was?

Spike glanced around. “Let’s start with this room. Where exactly are we and how long do we have in here before someone notices we’re not on the tour or your shadow shows up again.”

“The woman that’s been following me disappeared when she realized I was planning to take the hour long tour. Any uniformed employee would be extremely noticeable in this small crowd of passengers, so that’s why I chose it. Ever since I realized earlier today that I was being followed, I’ve been carrying that note. These tours leave every three hours so I figured at some point we could meet this way. Dargo came in first to make sure the room was empty.”

“Smart thinking.”

“It seems as if only the most boring employees are chosen for tour guides, so people drop out all the time. No one will even wonder why we left.” She grinned and Buffy immediately warmed to her. So far she wasn’t too bad for a demon. Even with the Tamarit thing.

Aria leaned back against the couch. “This is the Captain’s private lounge. He’s a long standing friend of my family. Dargo gave him a note, so he’s aware we’re in here. He’ll keep any of the other officers outside until we’re finished. Do you have the bracelet with you?”

“It’s inside Empress. But I’m concerned about giving it to you since you’re being followed.”

Aria made a face. “Honestly? I’m really nervous about taking possession of it, especially with that woman following me around. It’s far too important to lose to a thief, especially after all that’s happened the past few weeks.”

Spike reached for a ceramic ashtray, placing it on the end table. “Can you give us some more information about the bracelet? Maybe we can help you figure out whose tryin’ to steal it.”

“Yeah. Let’s start with what it’s actually for.”

Aria frowned and a small worry line appeared. She glanced at Dargo and Buffy realized she and the Tamarit were carrying on a silent conversation.

Sighing, Aria turned back to the couple. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been through so much before now and since I came on board, that I’m starting to doubt everyone. Then that woman started following me this morning. Between her and Zahn, it’s becoming a little too much for me. But Dargo just chastised me. I’m to trust the Powers’ emissaries above all else.”

“Wait a minute, pet. Did you just say Zahn has attached himself to your side, too?”

Aria nodded glumly. “I think the human expression is “stuck like glue?” She looked at Buffy and grimaced. “You know how some guys just won’t take no for an answer?”

“Actually I know exactly how that particular guy won’t take no for an answer.” She told Aria about her encounter in the lounge and their suspicions about the officer.

Aria bit her lip. “Spike’s right. He definitely wasn’t drunk. He was back bothering me not more than thirty minutes after that and he was stone cold sober. In fact, he’s told me before that he doesn’t drink. I don’t get it.”

Spike flicked his lighter open. “I believe he was checking us out, especially Buffy. It was clumsy, but effective.” He nodded at Dargo. “Can he read anyone else’s mind? Like maybe Zahn or that employee that’s following you?”

“Unfortunately, no. Only others of his own kind and me. We were pair bonded through a ritual when I was an infant, that’s why we can converse with each other.”

“You were going to tell us more about the bracelet.”

“Right. Well, the bracelet was acquired by my grandfather a few hundred years ago.” She grinned at Buffy’s look. “We’re a very long lived lot. The bracelet has the ability to magnify a person’s intentions, whether good or bad, so it could be very dangerous in the wrong hands.

There’s a portal that tries to open once every twenty five years in the middle of the major metropolitan area where we live. My aunt uses the bracelet in a ritual that bleeds away the power that otherwise would allow the portal to open. If it opened, thousands of demons and humans would be killed instantly, or at the least transported to another dimension.

I actually have no idea of the bracelet’s original use. Keeping that portal closed is our main reason for owning the bracelet. Other than that, it’s locked up. In fact, up until a couple months ago I would have wagered that no one outside the family even knew of its existence. How someone found out, and what they plan to do with it, I don’t know.”

She slumped back in her seat. “None of us thought there would be anyone onboard the ship that would be involved. I think I’d like you two to keep the bracelet until the morning we leave the ship. My aunt has arranged for several security people to meet me at the dock in L.A.”

“Aria, why don’t you spend your time with us until then?”

“No, I prefer to be alone. I have Dargo with me and he’s well versed in security. As long as you have the bracelet, I’m sure everything will be fine. Maybe I’ll get lucky and my shadow will become bored.” She smiled briefly. “You see, this is my last chance to be on my own and spend some time with Dargo, too. In three weeks, I attain the age of majority and begin working for my family. My union with Dargo will be severed and we’ll no longer be able to converse. I also won’t be allowed any more free time for a very long while. I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months.” She shrugged. “It’s not turning out as I anticipated, but I’m still having a good time.”

“What will happen to Dargo?” Buffy was genuinely curious. She remembered how Giles felt when he wasn’t her Watcher for several months. She wondered if the pale demon played guitar. “Are you going to retire?”

The Tamarit grinned as Aria cocked her head. She chuckled, shaking her head in the negative. “He said he’s much too young for that yet.” She looked at the confused Slayer and smiled. “That’s a joke. In your years, Dargo would seem extremely old. His people live a very long time, even longer than mine. He’s been in service to my family for most of his adult life. Actually, he’s to be pair bonded to my niece.” She grinned at the Tamarit’s grimace and added, “She can be a handful.”

Spike lit a cigarette. “You need to be very careful around Zahn.”

“Dargo wants to know if you’ve learned anything about him personally?”

“No, not yet, although we believe the woman that’s following you is part of a group known as the Hothis. We’re still not sure they want the bracelet, although it’s certainly starting to seem like it. I don’t like coincidences.”

“I’ve never heard of them before.” She turned to Dargo for a moment and their eyes met. Buffy watched the Tamarit shake his head briefly as Aria continued to listen. “Dargo hasn’t heard of them either, although he agrees with your assessment of the situation. He doesn’t feel comfortable with coincidences either. He’d like to know how many of them you’ve identified.”

Spike looked at the silent demon. “Only two so far. The woman following Aria and a steward named Roc. He searched our room last night.”

Aria cocked her head in the now familiar gesture. Buffy waited patiently for the demon to translate. “Dargo said he knows the steward you’re talking about. He came to our cabin the first afternoon while I was out swimming. He seemed unhappy that someone was in the cabin, looked around briefly and left. Neither of us have the acute senses of a vampire, so we don’t know if he’s searched again. Dargo rarely leaves the cabin otherwise; he dislikes the choice of onboard music.” Aria grinned at the Tamarit. “Although since that woman started following me, he’s been stuck listening to it. Whither thou goest. ”

Dargo smiled wryly, his eyes twinkling as if the subject was a running joke between them.

“Aria, we’ve got three other people on board that can help if you or Dargo discover you’re in trouble. Luckily each is on a different level of the ship.” Buffy picked up the pad of paper sitting on the table and wrote down her cabin number, her friends’ names and their job locations.

Aria passed the piece of paper to Dargo, who pocketed it with a nod. She wrote her own cabin number on another piece and gave it to Buffy. “In case, you find out anything else we should know.”

A light knock sounded on a second door, hidden behind Dargo. The Tamarit moved to the side and an older man with white hair and a full beard entered the room. Taking a pipe from his mouth, he smiled at the group. “I’m sorry to bother you Aria, but I wanted to meet your emissaries and let you know that Zahn and Mennock will be arriving for their shifts shortly. I thought you might like to leave before they arrive.”

Aria nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to the couple watching the exchange. “Buffy Summers, Spike, this is Captain Welden.”

Shaking the Captain’s hand, Buffy fought down sudden hunger pangs. The man in charge of their cruise eerily resembled the Gorton’s fisherman on any package of frozen fish sticks.

“Captain Welden is also aware of your mission.”

“I must admit, I really wanted a chance to meet the Slayer. If either of you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Aribella Demaris and I have been good friends for a very long time and she has requested that I look in on Aria occasionally.” Turning to leave, he nodded at the Tamarit. “Dargo.”

“Captain, wait a moment.”

“Yes, Ms. Summers?”

“What do you know about Zahn?”

“Well, I know he’s become infatuated with Aria.” The Captain smiled at the female demon. “But then, what young man wouldn’t be? I assume he won’t be considering anything untoward with Dargo at the helm.”

“Has he been with you long? How did he come to be employed on the Malfeasance?”

“This is his first time sailing aboard the Malfeasance. His predecessor died in an unfortunate accident just before we were to set sail, and Zahn answered the ad I placed. He was employed previously on a ship not unlike this one, so I hired him.” He frowned at Buffy. “Why are you asking questions about my First Officer?”

“I’m just curious. He’s interested in Aria so that makes him interesting to me.”

“I see. Are there any other persons of interest aboard ship that I should know about?”

Spike leaned forward. “I’d like to know who assigns the stewards.”

“The stewards service the same cabins every trip. We never change; it’s much easier that way.”

“Would it be standard for a steward to service cabins located at opposite ends of the ship and on different levels?”

“I’m not certain, but somehow that seems less than efficient.”

Buffy nodded. “I think so, too and yet Aria and I have the same steward.”

The Captain stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I’ll look into it. Let me know if there’s anything else.” He closed the door.

“Aria, you really should have told me right away about the Captain. Who else knows about the bracelet?”

“No one. You don’t need to worry about Captain Welden. He and my aunt are more than just ‘good friends’.” Aria chuckled. “That’s why he’s helping me hide from Zahn whenever possible. He doesn’t want to get on her bad side.” She ran a hand across her face. “I’m exhausted and the tour should be over soon. I’m going to bed.”

Dargo moved forward and held out his hand. Buffy swallowed any weird feelings and reached for it. The demon’s firm handshake was not at all unpleasant, although dryer and warmer than she’d expected. I guess I’m just used to vampire temperatures.

“We’ll check in with you both later. Remember, if you need anything, or if anything else unusual happens, let us know as soon as possible.”

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” She stood in front of the empty seat balancing a lunch tray.

Savana looked up from her book. “No, help yourself.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry to impose, but there aren’t any other seats available. This ship really needs to rethink its stance on employee comfort, starting with more tables.” She set the tray down, glancing at the cover of the book the other woman had been reading. How to Make Him Notice You. This was going to be easier than she’d thought. “Hi. I’m Anya.”

“Savana.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Savana. I’m new and I haven’t had the chance to meet too many other employees, especially since I’ve got such an odd schedule.” She poured her Coke into a glass. Noting the woman’s rigid posture, she tried another tack, lowering her voice confidentially. “It was certainly a lot easier to make friends on my previous job. I was a vengeance demon. We had union meetings and monthly mixers.”

Savana smiled briefly. “Actually I’m new, too. This is my first trip. You were really a vengeance demon?” She looked impressed.

Noting her more relaxed posture and curious expression, Anya smiled. I haven’t lost my touch. “I was, for well over a thousand years, until a stupid mistake cost me my position. Oh, I could tell you some stories.” She unwrapped her sandwich and reached for the salt. “That is, if you’re really interested.”

At the other woman’s emphatic nod, Anya launched into one of her most amusing anecdotes.

****

Yawning, Buffy and Spike climbed into the enormous bed with the Grundy between them. After saying good night, they each rolled toward the opposite sides.

Empress had other plans. Once she was certain they were both sound asleep, she slipped from the bed. Padding into the living area of the cabin, the Grundy jumped up on the couch where she planned to sleep long enough for her plan to take effect. Her companions needed another little nudge in the right direction.

****

Zahn punched a button and moved away from the glowing panel. “All controls are set, sir. We’re continuing on a north- northwest heading and the weather is holding. It should be a clear night, although the long range forecast places a storm on this heading in two days time.”

“We’ll have adjusted our heading by then. Carry on.” Captain Welden finished checking the instrument panel readings against the clipboard in his hand before turning to the First Mate. “Zahn?”

“Yes sir?”

“Do you have the duty rosters?”

“Yes sir. What do you need?”

“I’d like all current information on cabin stewards and their assigned cabins.”

Reaching for the requested information, Zahn’s hand slowed. Puzzled, he turned to the Captain. “I’m sorry, Sir, but what exactly are you looking for? Perhaps I can be of further assistance.” He amended at the Captain’s raised eyebrow.

“I’ve decided to hold a surprise inspection tomorrow afternoon. I’ve received some complaints about the cleanliness of the cabins.”

“Yes Sir.” He retrieved the requested information and watched the Captain page slowly through the binder. “Captain Welden? May I be relieved for dinner now?”

“Of course. Send Walters up and I’ll see you in two hours.” Watching his First Officer hurriedly depart the bridge, the Captain’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

****

“So then his testicles turned an amusing shade of purple and all those pus filled boils popped quite loudly. It was an extremely gruesome Wish. That girl had real imagination.” Anya allowed herself a moment of fond remembrance. “Later, she married the boy next door in a lavish Christmas ceremony. I was invited to the wedding, but that’s our busiest season and I wasn’t able to attend.” She leaned back in her seat and looked at the quiet woman listening avidly. “So, Savana, what about you? Any men in your life right now?”

Savana sighed, doodling in the lime jello with her plastic spork before confiding, “No, there’s a guy that I’m in love with, but he isn’t interested in me.” She stabbed the wiggling salad. “In fact, he seems to be paying a lot of attention to another woman right now.” She appealed to Anya. “I don’t know how to handle it either. You see, I haven’t really had much experience with men.”

Anya nodded. “I couldn’t help but notice your tattoo. I’ve a friend who joined the Hothis about fifty years ago; they do tend to keep the sexes separated as much as possible.”

“I loved being in the sect, but he was leaving, and I wanted to be with him.”

“You dropped everything to go with him and he still doesn’t care? That’s so typical. Say, maybe I could help you; after all I have centuries of relationship experience.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m finished for the night, why don’t we get a couple of drinks in the lounge?”

Savana bit her lip. “I don’t know… I have something I’m supposed to be doing…..”

“Just one drink. I’m sure I can think of something that will get that guy looking in your direction instead of hers. ” Anya offered an encouraging smile. “My boyfriend is the bartender- we can drink for free.”

Savana started to reply in the negative when her eyes fell on the book cover. “Okay, I’ll do it. Let’s go. ”

****

“We’ve got trouble,” Zahn snarled. “The Captain is going through the duty rosters.”

“He’s going to discover Savana changed my cabin assignments.” Roc’s mouth hardened. “What do you want to do?”

“Simple.” Zahn’s eyes glinted. “We’ll blame it on Savana.”

“She’s too weak to handle the pressure. She does anything you ask, but she’ll panic if the Captain calls her to the bridge. She’ll end up telling him everything.”

“Not if she’s unavailable.”

****

“So then we went to the lounge and Xander plied her with a couple hefty drinks.”

Xander nodded. “A little social lubrication.”

Excited, Willow’s eyes darted between the two. They were both smiling, so they must have discovered something interesting. “Well? What did you learn?”

“Savana left the cult along with seven others to follow Zahn. Supposedly their debunked leader Charn came to him in a vision and provided information on where Samshara is located. But they ran out of money before they could get there, so they’re all working on the ship. I couldn’t ask her in what capacities, she wasn’t drunk enough for that, but we’re meeting again tomorrow evening. I promised to come up with a plan to help win over her true love by then.” Anya snorted. “True love. If you ask me, she’s just naïve and fixated on him. She really needs someone more considerate of her burgeoning feelings.”

“Wow, that is great info. Anya, tomorrow night try and find out whether Savana knows anything about the bracelet.”

“She doesn’t,” Anya replied easily.

“How do you know that?”

“She’s here because of Zahn and supposedly he’s working onboard because of his vision. Ergo, nothing to do with the bracelet.”

“Unless she’s lying,” Xander offered.

Anya shook her head emphatically “No, she’s neither duplicitous nor cunning enough for that, I would have known immediately. She’s actually very naive and gullible. All she can see is Zahn and she does every single thing he tells her to do, up to and including keeping tabs on Aria for him while he’s working. She’s besotted and he’s a real jerk and it’s not going to end well. I’ve seen this scenario played out a thousand times. Unfortunately this time I can’t give the man festering pustules on a soon-to-be permanently flaccid penis. ”

Xander thought it would probably require an extra large bottle of bleach to scrub that vision out of his head. He concentrated on their subject instead. “So she’s not lying. What’s keeping Zahn from lying to her?”

“Nothing at all. In fact, he’s lied to her about almost everything, poor girl. But you’re really asking the wrong question. You asked if Savana knew anything about the bracelet, you should be asking whether Zahn knew about the bracelet.”

Willow leaned forward eagerly. Anya’s voice had taken on that smug tone again, she’d found out something else important. Willow had to admit Anya had turned out to be perfect for the assignment, she’d done a superb job. “Go on.”

“Last Monday, Zahn asked Savana to arrange for Roc to be Aria’s steward; this was three days before the guest list was received from reservations. He’s also the reason Savana and the others are working on this ship for their quest money. She said it was Zahn’s idea.

Now Savana pieced all of this together and decided that Zahn wants to marry Aria for the Demaris fortune so he can continue his quest without the rest of them tagging along. She’s betting that Aria is too smart to fall for a fortune hunter, which leaves her a chance if she just hangs in there. But not only is Zahn too smart to think he’d have any chance with Aria, we know the real reason he’s watching her. He’s after the bracelet and he knew about it before this cruise.”

The sun beaming through the window woke Spike. Still groggy, he was about to push Empress over a bit when he realized it wasn’t the Grundy nestled against his side;it was Buffy.

Tilting his head slightly, he saw Empress spread across the foot of the bed on Buffy’s side. Her position had caused the Slayer to roll into the middle. Without their furry barrier, he’d moved closer to her heat. Inhaling her scent, Spike closed his eyes again.

“Don’t go back to sleep.”

Startled, he tensed. Empress knew she was supposed to stay between them. He tried to relax.

“You’re awake.” Bloody hell, could that pronouncement have sounded any more daft?

“Unless I’ve learned to carry on a lucid conversation in my sleep, I’d say the answer would be yes.” Still sleepy, her voice sounded amused.

Spike waited. After all, she hadn’t moved. Yet.

Buffy cleared her throat. “It looks like Empress moved sometime last night and we rolled to the center.” Well, Ms. Obvious, could that have been any more lame? She forged on. “I guess even asleep opposites attract. Must be our magnetic personalities.”

Emboldened by her little joke, he cautiously tested the waters. “We haven’t been opposites for a good long while, pet.”

Buffy tilted her head to look up at him. “That’s true.”

In for a penny…. Spike locked eyes with her. “Buffy, I think something’s happenin’ here.”

“Yeah, we have a Grundy that totally misbehaves.”

“I don’t mean that.”

“I know.” She rolled onto her back and sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s hard to tell how much of what’s going on is our heads being messed with due to our circumstances. I’m really confused and some time apart would be a good idea right about now.”

I’m going for a walk up on deck. It’s been three days since I’ve been awake early and this California girl misses the sun.” Throwing off the covers, she sat up, giving him a glimpse of the confusion playing across her face.

Spike knew some of it was mirrored in his own aspect. Even though he thought he knew what he wanted, what she said rang true enough to find him agreeing with her. He slid out of the covers and stood up.

“I think you’re right. We’ve been spendin’ too much time in each other’s pockets. We could use a break to gain some perspective. I’ll catch up with you later tonight.”

“What about dinner?”

“Why don’t you have dinner with Red? I’ll check in with Harris later, in case you need me. Otherwise, Empress and I’ll see you at the Grundy trials.” He started for his dressing area.

“That’s a good idea. I’ll see you tonight then.” Buffy closed her own door.

Empress’ ears pricked. Her companions hadn’t slammed any doors. That was a good sign. She rolled over. Breeding companions was hard work and she needed more sleep.

*****

Willow leaned back in her desk chair and surveyed her best friend. Buffy’s silence after blurting out the conversation between her and Spike was making it difficult to ascertain what was going on in her head.

“And?”

“And I think he might be interested and I think I might be interested right back but I’m so confused.”

Willow prompted her friend again. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know if my sudden feelings or his for that matter, are a result of our ‘Big Brother’ sitch or really real.”

Willow watched Buffy lean forward, twisting a lock of hair around her finger. Eyes solemn, she stared bleakly at the floor.

While training the Grundy, Willow had worked closely with Buffy and Spike and she’d noticed their obvious attraction to each other. Unbeknownst to either one, these ‘sudden feelings’ had actually been simmering for awhile now and it was just too bad the couple had reached this crossroad while on the ship, making things so muddled.

Listening to the conversational replay, she read between the lines. Spike, even though nervous himself, had made the first overture but had quickly stepped back, afraid that a confused Buffy would stubbornly decide everything was a ship induced mirage and shut down completely. Looking at her friend that wasn’t such impossibility either. Buffy was confused, flummoxed by her emergent feelings in such an alien situation.

She wracked her brain, thinking of a way to keep her best friend from dismissing her true feelings about Spike and cheating them both out of a chance at the happiness they deserved.

“Buffy, let’s start at the beginning. How did you think of Spike before we left Sunnydale?”

“He’s a really close friend and at home we patrol together as partners almost every night,” she answered promptly.

Willow realized this was going to have to be one baby step at a time. She tried again. “I don’t mean patrolling or even really activities. I’m talking about what comes to mind when you think about Spike, the guy.”

“Oh. I’m not sure. It’s hard to explain. You know even when he’s not with me, he’s still with me.”

“What do you mean?” Willow waited patiently, giving her a chance to think it through. Words had never been Buffy’s strong suit.

Staring at one of the stains on the wall, Buffy tried to arrange her thoughts coherently. “Well, it’s like this. When something happens and I’m by myself I think, ‘oh, Spike would have liked that, or ‘oh Spike would have absolutely hated that’.

Or when I say something snarky and I’m waiting to hear his snarky reply. Or someone cracks a joke and even though I’m laughing I’m waiting for Spike to laugh, too. You know, he has an amazing laugh, although a lot of the time it’s directed at the most inappropriate stuff,” she added wryly.

Willow watched Buffy as they talked. Discussing Spike created a transformation in her entire demeanor. She’d stopped twisting her hair. and her face lit up.

Oh Goddess, she’s got it bad. Hiding her amusement at how thick her best friend could be sometimes, she persevered. “Let’s talk about the forced behavior from the cruise. Is there anything you two have been forced to do that was contrary to your usual relationship and might have made you feel differently about Spike at the time?”

Buffy wracked her brain for examples. “Hmmm. Well, we had this hand holding thing going on, although it really didn’t seem forced. I’m not sure that’s the right word. Anyway I remember I wished he hadn’t had to let go.” She lowered her voice. “You know, I never noticed before this cruise what nice hands Spike has. He’s got those long thin fingers that are so sexy on guys.”

Willow bit back a smile at Buffy’s description of Spike’s hands. “Any thing else you can think of that you guys did that was different?”

She brightened again. “Last night he played Sir Galahad, rescuing me from Zahn. It’s a side of Spike I don’t see too often. He tries to be all cool punk rock guy all the time, but sometimes there are these little flashes of a guy that’s a lot different then that. You know, like how he is with Empress when he thinks you and I aren’t watching. But you know what the coolest part of that whole sitch was?”

Buffy waited until Willow shook her head before continuing. “Besides the whole jealous vibe that I swear was really real, I knew he could actually do it. Protect me, I mean. That is, if I really needed protecting of course. Which I don’t. Ever. I mean, Slayer here. But it’s still nice to know he could seriously do it, it’s not just lip service. I guess I’d have to say I saw his strength used in a different way than usual.” She smiled that dreamy smile that Willow was already beginning to think of as the ‘Spike’ smile.

“Barring anything too TMI, are there any changes that you’ve noticed on a more personal level since you guys have been sharing space together?”

“Well, there’s one thing that’s changed. I keep noticing what a hottie he is. He sleeps in this little pair of baggy gym shorts and Oh My God. Although, now that I stop and think about that too, I knew he was cute before now. I just hadn’t had a chance to be up close and personal with a less-clothes-wearing Spike.”

Openly grinning now, Willow leaned back in her chair.

Buffy shrugged and her lips twisted. “Okay, you don’t have to hit me over the head with one of those big psychological breakthrough convos, I’m so getting it now. The more I talk about this, the more I realize nothing has been forced on either of us. I must have been thinking this stuff for awhile deep inside my head. It just hadn’t had a chance to pop out and let me on the clue train.” Relieved, she smiled happily at her friend. “This crummy demon boat doesn’t have anything to do with my real feelings at all.”

“I don’t think so either.” Willow replied. “Especially since I’ve noticed something between the two of you for at least the past two weeks.”

“Really?” Buffy’s eyes twinkled. “Hey Willow, news flash, I’ve fallen for Spike.”

“Yeah. I got the memo, although it turned out to be a three page essay with incorrect punctuation. But for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t be doing this entire Freud thing with you if I didn’t think you two would be really good together.”

“Wait a minute.”

“What’s the matter? I thought we’ve both decided this is a good thing.”

“What if he decides he isn’t falling for me, too?”

“Buffy, have you actually seen Spike lately? Trust me, that’s a given. He just needs a little time to process, too.” Willow watched her friend brighten again. Well that wasn’t too bad. Spike will be thrilled that I didn’t send her back broken.

“Now that we’ve got your love life settled, can we have dinner?” She patted her stomach lightly. “I’m starved after all this heavy conversation.”

“I’m hungry, too. Let’s go back to my cabin and I can have food brought to us. We can look through my clothes and find you something to wear to the Grundy trials. That way we can stand together without anyone paying any attention.”

“That’s a good idea. It’ll help maintain your cover if we’re not seen eating together anywhere. We won’t have to worry about being overheard when I fill you in on what Anya found out during her ‘covert op’ as she and Xander are calling it. Go on back and I’ll meet you in a few minutes.”

An hour later Willow pushed aside an empty plate that had until recently held an enormous slice of Mississippi Mud Cake. She moaned appreciatively. “That had to be the best dessert I’ve ever had.”

“I had that last night. It’s the only mud I’ve been around lately that didn’t wind up all over my clothes.” She stacked her empty dishes on the room service cart. “Fill me in on what Anya discovered.”

Willow dutifully reiterated the conversation the ex-vengeance demon had had with Savana, winding up with Anya’s deductions concerning Zahn’s knowledge of the bracelet.

Once she’d finished, Buffy leaned back in her chair. “He knew someone was bringing the bracelet to Aria onboard and somehow I showed up on radar. That’s why the Kiefer Sutherland impression in the bar last night. Spike said he was checking me out.”

Her eyes widened. “Willow! I just remembered that when I met him I was wearing the bracelet. He ran his hand down my arm and across the bracelet! He knows I’ve got it.”

Willow thought about the implications. “He doesn’t know who you really are, so you’re still one step ahead. Besides, it’s not like he would try to take it during the cruise. What would he do with it? There’s nowhere to hide. We’d just find him and take it back.”

“Good point. He’s not going to make a move yet. He won’t be going anywhere until we dock in L.A. in three days. What’s Anya’s next move?”

“She’s going to see Savana again tonight and try to get her to spill on where the other Hothis are onboard.”

“That’s a good idea, if she’ll do it.”

“Anya seems to have forged a friendship with her, so maybe.”

“We need to give Aria a heads up about Zahn. She’s already pretty squicked by him, but she needs to avoid him completely. Maybe we’ll run into her at the Grundy trials and we can slip her a note.” Buffy looked up at the large wall clock. “We should get moving. Empress will be so disappointed if we’re late.”

*****

“Lo Harris. I’ll have a Dewar’s and Empress will have a Pepsi poured into a saucer.”

“You’re giving Empress a Pepsi?” Xander squeaked. So much for bartenders staying calm and neutral in any given situation. He’d certainly ruined that old adage after hearing Spike’s insano request.

“Won’t Buffy be fit to be tied? Won’t Empress have an actual fit? That’s a serious amount of caffeine to give a Grundy, especially her.” He looked at the little demon Spike had lifted onto the bar stool next to his. Her fur was mussed and a flowered hair band and matching bow were crooked, giving her a cockeyed appearance.

Staring at Xander, Empress placed both front paws on the bar and snorted loudly.

Xander swallowed, automatically reaching for a saucer and the Pepsi dispenser.

“It’s fine, she’ll use the extra energy tonight.”

“That’s right. Tonight are the Grundy field trials up on deck. That’s all anyone in here can talk about. In fact, several of my regulars have signed up their Grundies. There’s going to be a huge crowd.” Xander watched the demon lap her Pepsi and an idea occurred to him.

“Empress, with all the training and patrolling you do at home, you’ll blow those prissy little purses right out of the water.”

Empress looked up and winked at Xander before diving back into her nearly completed drink.

Xander grinned. It was amazing how fast a saucer full of soda could disappear with a forked tongue. Of course this was Empress- she could make a pillar candle disappear so fast Anya and Giles didn’t even have time to figure out it’s missing.

He glanced around the bar and lowered his voice. “You know Spike, she’s going to kick serious ass.” At the vampires’ nod, he continued. “It would certainly be a shame to let a golden opportunity like this pass by without something to show for it.”

Spike cocked an eyebrow. Xander was leaning on the bar staring at Empress with a gleam in his eye. “Why Harris, I do believe your new mates have corrupted you. Since when did you think about fleecing anyone?”

“They’re demons. Who better to take advantage of?” Xander looked around. No one was listening that he could see. He lowered his voice. “I can’t kill them, but this would be nearly as good.”

“So you think some of your co workers might care to place a small wager on the side?”

“I’ve watched them drop an entire night’s wages on cockroach races in the kitchen. If you’ll front for me, I’ll split the take with you.”

Spike thought about it for almost two seconds. He could use the extra dosh to buy his girls something nice in the ship’s store. “What’s the plan?”

Xander reached in his front pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. “Here’s my tip money from the last couple nights. We’ll use this for the stake.”

Spike took the offered bills and stuffed them in his blue jean jacket. “Set me up with another couple drinks for ambiance. I’ll sit here and prepare for our little farce while you locate some marks. I mean blokes.”

He turned to the Grundy licking the now empty saucer. “Luv, you need to appear exhausted and very prissy when the punters show up, okay?”

Empress placed a paw on Spike’s knee and turned her head sideways.

“Fine. You do this for Xander and we’ll buy you a big piece of that fancy wood in the shop.”

Empress shook her head.

“Two pieces?”

She tapped his knee and snorted.

“Alright. Three pieces, but not until after the trials and you don’t let on to anyone, especially the Slayer, what’s goin’ on. Is it a deal?”

Empress wagged her tail.

Xander breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Empress. Spike’s right about this. It’s not a Slayer thing, it’s a Buffy thing. She just doesn’t get gambling. Willow either.”

Xander placed three empty glasses in front of Spike and an actual Scotch. He cleared away the empty saucer while Spike straightened the crooked hair bow and ran Xander’s comb through the Grundy’s thick fur. Empress jumped into his lap and settled down. Laying her head on the bar, she closed her eyes half way and sighed, immediately resembling any one of the multitude of bored, pampered Grundies they’d witnessed on board.

Spike smirked. “Daddy’s little girl is ready.” He handed Xander back his comb. “Go dig up some of your more well-heeled coworkers.”

“Be right back.” Xander headed into the backroom while Spike downed the shot and channeled his inner Oscar Wilde. He glanced down at Empress and chuckled. She oozed laziness and overindulgence. Perfect.

Hearing his chuckle, she winked at him. Xander strode back behind the bar with several demons on his heels. Empress sighed loudly as Spike raised a dissipated hand. “Barkeep, another round.”

A lone demon at a front table chugged the remainder of his beer and stood up. A swirling tattoo peeked from beneath his long sleeved uniform as he pushed through the crowd beginning to filter into the bar for the evening. He had overheard astounding information. The Slayer, hated killer of his kind, was onboard the Malfeasance.

Zahn listened to Styre reiterate all that he had heard in the bar moments before. He’d already known the girl was someone other than who she pretended to be, but to discover that Aria’s contact was actually the Slayer was a surprise, although nothing that couldn’t be handled.

He surveyed the others in the cabin. The demon’s outburst had shocked the rest into silence.

“Interesting news, Styre, but it’s nothing that can’t be taken care of with a few minor alterations. Our plan remains fundamentally sound.”

Making a point of catching the eyes of every follower in turn, he nodded confidently. Each responded positively, strengthening his convictions. They would continue to follow him. But even more importantly they still believed him.

But first things first.

He turned to his right hand man leaning against the wall. “Roc, did you take care of that small problem?”

The steward straightened. “It’s done.”

“Good. Now that all the preparations are complete, we’ll do exactly as we’ve planned from the beginning.”

Styre hesitated to bring the subject up again. He had complete faith in his leader, but still… “What about the Slayer and her companions?”

Zahn laid a hand on the demon’s shoulder. “If she gets in the way, we’ll kill her. All we need is a few moments to open the portal. By the time the cavalry arrives, we’ll all be in Samshara. Just as I’ve promised all along.”

*****

“This will be so exciting. I heard they have forty Grundies signed up. They’re split into groups and using a point system, they run a timed obstacle course that becomes more difficult until only the three fastest and most agile Grundies remain. Those three compete against each other for an overall winner.”

Willow stood on the tiptoes of her borrowed white go-go boots, trying to look across the crowd. “I can’t believe how many people turned out for this. It looks like almost the entire ship is here. I guess a lot of people enjoy watching Grundy trials.”

Half listening to Willow’s babbling about odds and traps and things, Buffy scanned the pseudo hippie throng for any spot where she might have a chance of actually seeing the course. She hated being short. “I guess we should have arrived here sooner. I didn’t expect this many people either.”

She noticed the back of a familiar head across the sea of tie dyed shirts. “There’s Xander. I wonder why he didn’t mention that he had the night off? Let’s go stand with him.”

Weaving their way through the chattering crowd, Buffy heard someone call her name. Turning in the voice’s direction she saw Aria. Actually, she saw Dargo. Aria, being the same height as Buffy was lost in the sea of Haight- Ashbury wannabes.

“Hi Buffy.” Aria walked up, followed by Dargo. “Dargo saw you and we wanted to say hi.”

“Aria, I’m glad we ran into you. I’ve got something to tell you.” Buffy suddenly realized Aria and Dargo weren’t alone. An older couple stood next to her.

“Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t know you were with anyone.”

“I’d like to introduce you to Jakob and Ro Laren. I used to be one of Jakob’s students. We ran into each other on deck earlier and decided to watch the trials together.” She turned to the teachers. “This is Buffy, a friend of mine.”

Jakob raised a hand in greeting while his wife held out her hand and smiled. She had a mass of gray corkscrew curls and bright green eyes partially hidden behind a pair of round spectacles that had slipped halfway down her long nose. “It’s nice to meet you Buffy.”

Buffy smiled in return and shook her hand. “You, too. Aria, this my friend Willow.”

Aria turned to the couple. “Would you mind waiting a moment while Dargo and I speak privately with Buffy?”

“Not at all, my dear.” Jakob shook his head and his long gray beard swung to and fro like a pendulum across his stomach.

While Buffy pulled Aria and Dargo over to a corner to fill them in on Zahn, Willow stared at the teacher. If you remove the sixties resort wear and substitute a robe he looks exactly like…

“Excuse me, but has anyone ever told you that you look just like-“

“Albus Dumbledore?” He grinned, displaying a set of even white teeth. “All the time. I teach ten year olds.”

His wife tittered. “For a long time it was Gandalf but then that Rowling woman wrote the children’s series and now it’s always Dumbledore. I told Jakob he should just shave it off but he thinks it helps him connect with his students.”

She lowered her voice in a mock whisper, which was ruined by the smirk she shot at her husband. “He really enjoys the Gandalf recognition best. He says he likes the character better, but I think he just fancies being compared to Sir Ian McKellen.”

Jakob laughed boisterously at his wife’s comment causing Willow to grin. She’d taken an immediate liking to the couple. She bet they were loved by all the students. “Have you ever seen Grundy trials before?”

Ro nodded and her spectacles slid again. “Oh my yes. Years ago we owned a Grundy named Glinda and used to enter her for fun. She never won but we loved to watch. Then she grew too elderly and we stopped going. This will be the first we’ve seen in ages.”

Before Willow could add anything to the topic, Buffy strode back up with Aria and Dargo and announced, “Aria’s going to meet us for dinner tomorrow evening. We’ll talk more then.”

Willow smiled at the couple. “It was really nice to meet you.”

Ro nodded. “You too, my dear.”

Willow was about to turn away when Jakob placed his hand on her shoulder. Lowering his voice, he spoke in her ear. “You should continue your study of the art. You have great potential.” He took her hand in his. “And if you ever need anything…”

Her mouth dropped. “How?”

“Let’s just say I’m a walking cliché.” As Jakob started to follow Dargo through the crowd his voice floated back to her. “Take my advice, Willow. Gandalf is always right you know.”

Willow could hear Ro’s gentle laughter as they disappeared into the crowd. She looked down. In her palm was a blank business card with a phone number. She pocketed the card.

****

The girls finally managed to reach Xander’s side. He had a front row spot staked out at the far end of a large oval ring marked with metal stanchions and wire. At intervals along the marked course stood various obstacles, some of which were targets surrounded by small pools of water.

One of the ship’s officers, having completed a welcoming speech, left the field to make way for a procession of the competitors.

“Hi Xander. What a great location. You must have gotten here really early.”

Xander visibly started. “Buffy, Willow. What a nice surprise to see you girls here.” Oh God, now what? Why didn’t I just stay inside the bar until all of this is over?

Willow frowned at her friend. He seemed genuinely shocked to see them. “What? Why?”

Buffy poked his shoulder good naturedly. “He’s kidding, Willow. He knows there’s absolutely no way we’d miss this. Empress would be so disappointed. Besides the winner should have a huge cheering section.”

Before Xander could formulate a noncommittal reply, Willow squealed. “Oh, there they are! See? She’s number six.”

Buffy craned her neck. Number six and her handler had entered the course at the far end. She grinned at the little demon walking sedately next to Spike. Spike was wearing faded blue jeans with torn knees and patches sewed on coupled with a tee shirt she couldn’t read.

“This is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to watch Empress kick their asses. There’s no way she won’t win.”

A tall demon with tats all over his muscular arms, snorted. Leaning across Xander, he shook his head sadly. “You girls are looking at number six? Mark my words, that Grundy will be one of the first to fall. She’s really pathetic. You might want to cheer for number eight. He’s favored.”

Willow’s mouth dropped. “Did you hear that? He’s out of his mind. He actually thinks Empress is going to lose right away. He called her pathetic.”

Buffy leaned across Xander so she could give the stupid demon a piece of her mind when Xander hissed in her ear. “Don’t say anything about her training or background, it might give you away. Most of these Grundies aren’t used for anything more than holding someone’s wallet or wearing the latest fashionable accessory.”

Buffy straightened up. “You’re right. Willow said most of them won’t last past the first couple rounds. Only the security trained Grundies will make it to the semi-finals. So I’ll keep my lip zipped for now. But if he’s still insulting Empress at that point, all bets are off and he’s going to hear some serious gloating.”

All bets? Huh?? Oh wait, it’s just an expression. Xander swallowed, trying to erase the panic he knew had just crossed his face. “Oh look, here they come now.” Relieved, he clapped wildly.

Amazed, Buffy watched Xander’s crazed clapping. She looked over at Willow. Willow was staring, too. Catching Buffy’s look, she shrugged. “He’s certainly excited about this. But between you and me, I think Xander needs to stay away from the caffeine for awhile.”

Buffy whispered in Willow’s ear. “He doesn’t think I should say too much about Empress’ background. It might throw suspicion on me. He’s probably right.”

She whispered back. “Yeah, I think he’s right. Anyway, we’re here to have fun and cheer on Empress, not argue with some stupid demons that can’t tell one Grundy from another.”

“That’s true. Besides we’ll have plenty of opportunities to tell him ‘I told you so’.” She raised her voice as a familiar pair walked toward them. “Yay!! Empress!! Go number six!!”

Spike held Empress’ leash lightly, keeping the easy pace around the deck as they’d been instructed. Even without vampiric hearing, he couldn’t have missed the loud clapping and familiar voices as they neared the far corner of the ring. He spotted the Slayer and Red cheering wildly. They even resembled a pair of pretty cheerleaders in their vinyl go-go boots and micro minis. Spike briefly ogled Buffy’s slender legs. God bless the sixties. He’d loved those skirts back in the day. Taking another look, his mouth watered. She was just so gorgeous.

Rounding the curve, he tentatively smiled at her. She smiled brightly, giving them both thumbs up while Willow winked at him.

His step a great deal lighter, Spike walked Empress past the excited girls toward Xander. His easy smile faded when he moved abreast of his partner. Eyes wide, Xander had stopped clapping and both hands were clenched at his side. His face, paler than usual, had a smile frozen in place. Arching an eyebrow, Spike tried to read his expression.

Moving forward again, they continued past Xander and Spike swore softly. Looming over Xander on the other side was their biggest mark; a nasty half drunken Doerich bouncer named Crunch and with him were several of his friends, who’d also bet large quantities of dosh on a spoiled lazy little Grundy named Empress. To lose.

Was Harris utterly nutters? He’s got the Slayer and Red firmly planted on one side and that Doerich demon and his mates on the other. That little scenario has such potential to ignite a monumental brawl.

Empress scanned the group and her eyes widened. She snorted.

“Yeah, I saw ‘em.” Walking out of the ring to await the first heat, Spike looked down at the little demon. “Mark my words, this will not end well.”

Sitting calmly on her haunches, Empress watched her companion pace within the confined space, mumbling about plans that never gelled quite right.

This was a delicate situation. Not only could she lose her special treats that had been promised, but her personal plan could be undone as well. She’d need to be very clever. Empress looked around, sizing up her first opponents.

*****

Anya knocked on the cabin door. “Savana? It’s time to drink copious amounts of alcohol and diss men in general.”

Receiving no reply, she glanced at her watch and noted that she was precisely on time, as all humans and some demons preferred. Anya sincerely hoped that Savana fell in that category, too.

She’d had a bitch of a day, spent chasing escaped clambeaus. Hiding everywhere, the tiny creatures would skitter into the open at the most inopportune moments, frightening customers and losing sales. Anya had been forced to chase them all over the store in an attempt to round them up and return them to their boxes. Boxes that now sported tight Tupperware- like lids. Then she’d had to dangle from a tall ladder high above the floor in an effort to wedge the damn boxes back on their shelves.

Her feet hurt and she wanted one of those killer frothy drinks with a tiny pink umbrella. Upon reflection, maybe without the umbrella. She really wasn’t in the mood to look at something tiny at the moment. In fact, she’d just order scotch. A double. In a tall glass.

Shifting from aching foot to aching foot, she frowned at her new friend’s patent disregard for both her punctuality and need for strong drink. Irritated, she pounded on the door. When she still received no response from within, Anya pressed her ear against the door. Silence.

Concern now overriding her irritation, she gripped the doorknob and twisted. Locked. The door remained closed, the old lock refused to yield. Frustrated, she was trying to ascertain whether there was any light showing under the door, when she noticed a piece of paper. Shoved beneath the door, a corner stuck out. Fervently hoping Savana had left a note instructing her to meet in the bar, Anya bent down. Gently tugging she fished the sheet of paper out.

It was a request for Savana to reschedule the meeting she’d missed early this morning with the bakery department. Stuck to it was an even smaller post-it note. Someone named Jennifer had scrawled a message asking Savana to call her concerning an urgent problem with one of tonight’s activities. The time recorded on the message was hours ago.

Frowning, Anya immediately shifted into spy mode. All thoughts of drinking fled, replaced by speculations of a more clandestine nature. Savana was her source, so it was Anya’s duty to discover what had happened. Unfortunately she wasn’t sure what the best course of action should be. Would a spy force the door open, wait in hiding until someone finally showed up to open it, or report the situation to the team leader for further instructions? Xander hadn’t covered this in her training. Having seen various movies where each of those three scenarios had been utilized, she tried to decide which to use.

Since she wasn’t conveniently carrying burglar equipment like one movie spy (a plot point which Anya had thought fairly lame at the time), nor was she imbued with Slayer strength to force open a solid teak door, that first option was definitely a no go.

And even though it worked frequently in the movies, her aching feet and the lack of a good hiding place in the narrow corridor precluded surreptitiously awaiting someone (usually the villain) to come tripping along and stupidly swing open the door. That always seemed a little too convenient for real life, so she blew that one off, too.

So the last choice and her natural inclination to tell everyone everything anyway easily led her to a final decision. She would notify their team leader.

Idly wondering if their team leader had chosen a designation yet- she really, really liked Alpha One-Anya used her employee radio to call Xander. He could reach Buffy or Alpha One. Whichever. By now they’d all be together anyway, cheering madly for Empress, which Anya knew was by far the best trained Grundy on the field and definitely the next reigning champion.

Buffy watched the fireball fly completely past the target, landing harmlessly in the water trap and her mouth dropped. “She missed! Again!!” Grabbing Willow by the arm, she demanded, “How could she miss that shot? It was so easy. She made a way harder shot than that the other night against a soft shoe demon.”

“I don't know. Maybe Spike warned her not to make it look too easy or something? You know, in case anyone wonders why she’s been trained so thoroughly,” Willow offered weakly. It just didn’t sound right, even to her.

She watched another fireball miss the target by almost three feet and winced as Buffy disgustedly grabbed her arm again. Rubbing her forearm she offered another idea.

“Maybe being aboard a moving ship is screwing up her aim somehow. You know, as it dips with the waves.” Putting on a brave face she added, “Whatever it is, she’s certainly having a really off night, but I’m sure she’ll work it out.”

It was a confident sentence that Willow was seriously trying to believe herself. She knew several of the Grundies had been entered mainly so they could receive a participation ribbon, but Empress was definitely not in that category, at least on a normal day. Their Grundy lived on a Hellmouth and helped the Slayer patrol and the Scoobies had purposely raised her tough so she’d survive. Empress was a seasoned fighter who thought quickly on her feet and could outmaneuver almost anything and hit everything.

Willow’s eyes followed another fireball and winced again. Everything except stationary targets. Enormous stationary targets with large red bulls’ eyes painted on them.

Although she'd tried to reassure Buffy and even herself, Willow was completely flummoxed. She’d been the one in charge of training the Grundy and she knew exactly what Empress was capable of doing; this skewed display of prowess wasn’t even close. Dumbstruck, she watched the Grundy miss the target a third time. Close? This wasn’t even in the same ballpark.

Luckily at this beginning level, most of the others were equally bad or worse. She watched number fifteen fall off the top rung of a ladder obstacle, causing a domino effect when two others tumbled down with him. Willow shook her head. The Grundies below had no earthly idea how to hold on with their serrated teeth and swing out of the way. It was really sort of sad. Grundies had such incredible potential. It irked Willow watching them treated as glorified decorations.

Before she could become too smug over their terrible lack of training, she watched Empress trip- over what? Air? A miniscule speck of dirt?-and fall during a race across a narrow balance beam obstacle much simpler than the one Xander had built for her at home.

When they’d arrived, Willow had taken one look at the first course and swore Empress could finish in record time blindfolded. Yet there she was, allowing the rest of the field to pass her before finally climbing to her paws and jumping a hurdle in front of her.

Buffy shook her head again sadly. “Spike must be having a fit. What is wrong with her? If she waited that long to stand back up during patrol, she’d get herself killed. Now the entire field will be ahead of her and she’ll be disqualified.”

Willow glanced at the scoreboard. “Actually, even as terrible as she's been, Empress has still managed to score better than most of the rest of these groups. Even if she comes in dead last in this event, she'll still be ahead of almost everyone overall except for about four or five others. She’ll still make the semi-finals; she’s only a few points behind that horrid number eight and he’s in the lead.”

Both women watched with distaste as the number eight Grundy leaped a water obstacle with ease. A huge black Grundy with the moniker of Piston, he’d continuously bent the rules, pushing the smallest Grundies out of his way. If they refused to give way, he’d plow right over them while the judges sat in their box ignoring the flagrant abuses.

“I don’t care if number eight is favored to win. He’s an obnoxious cheater.” The field ran by them and Buffy’s eyes narrowed as Piston nipped number nineteen, causing him to misstep and fall in a water trap.

Piston’s owner, a well- known wrestler and hawker of body building equipment on late night infomercials, hadn’t deigned to handle his own Grundy. He stood across the field from the Scoobies, drinking and cheering loudly when number eight pushed another entrant.

Empress, having caught up to Piston, tapped the hurdle with her back paws as she sailed over, causing her to lose a point and land behind him. Buffy groaned again

Hearing loud jeering originate on the other side of Xander, Buffy glared across at his new friend. That guy Crunch was such a jerk, cheering loudly every time Empress made a little mistake. In fact, he cheered for almost all the Grundies except Empress.

She poked Xander on the arm. “Your friend is an ass and for some unknown reason he hates us and Empress.”

Turning away from the demon still making snide comments loudly to his friends, Xander lowered his voice and pleaded. “Don’t worry about him, Buff. I think he's jealous. He can't afford one himself and he knows you guys are with Spike.”

“People can’t always afford what they want, but they don’t behave like that.” She shot the obnoxious demon a murderous look. “When this is over, no matter who wins, I'm going to tell him exactly what I think of him. I hope he’s off for the evening, ‘cause he might need some time to recuperate.” Turning her attention back to the field she watched Empress clear the last few hurdles cleanly, managing once again to remain in contention.

Xander tried to concentrate on the competition again when a meaty green hand clamped down heavily on his shoulder. Leaning close enough that Xander could smell his sour breath, Crunch’s voice rumbled in his ear. “Those bitches next to you are starting to really get on my nerves. Every time number six somehow manages to pull it out of the dumper, they scream and their voices sound like nails on a chalkboard. You need to tell them to tone it down, Harris, or I will. Me and the guys have a lot of money riding on this and we’d like to watch without that squealing giving us migraines. Otherwise we might have to tell them ourselves.”

“I’ll talk to them before the next start.” The hand disappeared and Xander breathed a nervous sigh of relief. He’d already bitten off all the nails on both hands and he was starting on the cuticles. This had certainly turned into a nerve wracking way to earn a little extra money.

His radio beeped and he reached for it, praying for divine intervention. At this point, he'd be thrilled with an offer from the Council to airlift him into the Hellmouth itself. At least he’d only have to play for one side.

*****

Spike poured more water into the bowl assigned to competitor number six and watched her lap it up. “Rest a bit, luv.” Empress pushed away from the bowl and settled into Spike’s lap, panting. He gently stroked her head. They had a few minutes break while the final group of Grundies ran the course.

“That’s my good girl.”

He matter-of-factly surveyed number eight on the other side of the room, noting with satisfaction that Empress’ chief competition was definitely beginning to tire, too. Spike could tell from the way the black Grundy held his head.

Number eight was a right nasty wanker. Spike had watched him push the other Grundies including Empress, all over the field using his size and weight rather than actual talent or skill. He’d bullied the less trained Grundies for pure spite, causing a few to be unnecessarily injured.

The clever Empress had figured out how to avoid the Grundy by practically throwing her heats. She’d slow down or trip enough to wind up behind him and then sprint at the final turn to make it into the top three and the next heat. And she’d managed to do it without making it seem too easy for Xander’s sake, but Spike knew it was taking a toll on her. She was tiring, too.

Spike reached down and gently adjusted her number.

Whimpering a little, she shifted when Spike touched the number tied around her stomach. Frowning, he lifted it and parted her thick fur. A large bruise was purpling on her scales. Trying to tamp down his anger, he carefully smoothed the fur back in place and moved the number up a bit so it didn’t rest directly on the bruise. Lifting up her muzzle, he stared into her eyes. “Is this what happened when that wanker knocked you into that steel barricade at the far turn?”

Empress thumped her tail once. Spike stroked her head and spoke quietly. “You've done a sensational job tonight walking the tightrope. You've handled the situation the best way possible under the circumstances and I’m so proud of you.

But you've been a punchin' bag long enough. I can't stand that git thinkin' he's better than you. You're worth a hundred of him. It's the final run of the night and you fought to get here; they’ll have no quarrel with Harris now.” Spike's eyes gleamed. “I want you to go out there and kick ass. Do your very best.”

She cocked her head and glanced at Piston.

His expression hardened. “If that wanker tries to get in your way, move him out of it. I want to see your true talent shown to everyone out there. You’re the best and it’s time they all got to see that.”

Empress growled displaying her serrated teeth and Spike’s eyes gleamed. “That’s my girl.”

He stood up. “Come on luv, it’s your time to shine.”

Everyone in the audience was riveted on the final three contestants as they took the field: Piston, Empress, and number twenty, a surprisingly agile and talented male named Salsa. They would be the only competitors. Winner take all.

*****

Empress snorted lightly and watched the man in the white uniform set the final obstacles. The course had become more difficult each heat. The first couple times through she’d had a tough time trying to deliberately miss. It ran contrary to her natural competitiveness, but she’d managed to make it look real, and she’d been fine with doing what was necessary to help her companions and not draw too much attention to herself.

Then that black wanker had pushed her during a critical moment, causing her to not only miss for real and have to work really hard to stay in the contest, but he’d hurt her stomach, too. Looking at her opponent waiting in the lane beside her, Empress narrowed her eyes. It wouldn’t happen again. This time she was out to win, not place. Digging her back paws into the deck, she waited for the starting gun.

The gun went off and Empress and the other two Grundies charged down the deck toward the first obstacle, a six rung ladder. Each rung narrowed, until the contestants had to use not only their paws to gain the ladder’s top, but their teeth as well. The final rung, smeared with something extremely slick, was only two inches wide. Empress climbed to the top, remembering to duck the sharpened steel bar that swept across at varying intervals. Once she’d gained her footing, she aimed a quick fireball at the moving target to the left, before climbing down the other side and rushing to the next obstacle. The course was timed. She couldn’t afford to slow down.

Glancing back quickly over her shoulder she watched her fireball hit dead center of the target. Bulls eye! She was pleased to see number twenty had come in a little too high to be a true bulls eye while the wanker hit right on top of hers. Coming to a straightaway, she picked up speed, the other two running just behind her. Number eight reached out, trying to nip her back paws and force her to trip. Empress put on a burst of speed, and kept out of his reach.

Next up was a new obstacle, especially designed for the final heat. Running full out Empress reached the six foot high hill. She dug her curved nails in deeply to gain purchase in the loose sliding dirt and not lose critical speed. Clawing her way to the top she flung herself off the edge into the air. Using her forward momentum to cross empty space, she dropped onto a small floating square in her lane. The square flexed beneath her as she crawled toward a shiny stone in the middle. Reaching the stone, she swallowed it as the black square transitioned to red.

She quickly switched to her stone aspect, milliseconds before a lightening bolt struck her chest. The magicked bolt quickly dissipated and she morphed back to her regular aspect, hurtling herself carefully onto the next moving square. It remained black. She swallowed the second stone and quickly leaped again. The third square turned red, Empress morphed and the lightning bolt again struck harmlessly. She continued to leap frog carefully across the squares, trying to land in the middle so the square wouldn’t tip, while swallowing the stones and morphing when necessary.

Following in his lane, Piston landed on the first square and quickly swallowed the stone. The square remained black. He landed so heavily on the second square that it shifted slightly and the stone slid toward the edge of the square. Standing still, he tried to catch his balance before reaching for the stone. He grabbed it just before it dropped from the edge as the square flashed red. Miscalculating how quickly the square would transition, he inched back from the edge slowly, morphing barely ahead of the lightning bolt. Morphing back again, he warily continued to the next square. This time size would not be an advantage.

At this level the course showcased intelligence and cunning. It was not enough to have strength, fast reflexes and speed. The winner would be the Grundy that exhibited excellence in all.

The third Grundy had managed to navigate half way across the squares in his lane, but was tiring rapidly. Exhausted, Salsa stopped on one of the black squares. The audience held their collective breath as he wavered, before gamely attempting another leap. Landing, his feet went out from under him and he slid toward the edge, grabbing the stone as he slid. The square flashed red as he struggled to catch himself. Too late to morph, he dropped from the square, forfeiting the trial. His owner ran out on the field and hugged him as everyone in the audience gave him a hearty round of applause.

Caught up in the drama on the field, Buffy and Willow watched Empress ignite, outshining the others on the course. Ignoring the stupid demons beside Xander, they started yelling her name. Several people around the girls joined in cheering her on.

Spike stood at the gate to the field smiling proudly as Empress leaped to the ground after the last transition, several squares ahead of number eight. By this time her spirit had captured the hearts of the crowd and he could hear them cheering for spunky number six as she neared the final obstacle. A whisper ran through the crowd. If number six continued through the last obstacle at this speed, the ship’s record could fall.

Empress dove into the final obstacle, a large darkened tunnel magicked into a twisting maze with various dead ends, good for becoming lost and eating up precious seconds.

Everyone collectively held their breath and waited. Seconds ticked by. Would she make it through or become hopelessly lost? If she did find her way, would it be in time to break the record?

Number eight completed the flying squares challenge and ran quickly into the tunnel. Still no Empress.

On the sidelines Buffy and Willow held their breath. Willow checked her watch. There were only a scant few seconds left.

Spike gripped the gate post and watched the tunnel exit.

Come on luv, you can do it. Scent your way through. Use you night vision; don’t fall for their stupid tricks….

Suddenly Empress emerged from the tunnel and a shout went up. She sprinted down the field flat out; ears back and tail streaming. The crowd roared as she raced across the finish line.

Spike ran onto the course as Empress crossed the finish line, breaking the previous record by three seconds. With the cheering crowd in their ears, he fell to his knees as she leaped into his arms.

Still hugging the victorious Grundy, Spike proudly watched Captain Weldon pin a ribbon on Empress’ collar. The spectators clapped as he accepted a silver loving cup on Empress’ behalf for beating the course record.

Buffy and Willow screamed and ran on the field, hugging Spike and Empress. Xander yelled and clapped for the beribboned Empress as she and Spike left the course, with Willow and Buffy hanging onto them, the loving cup held high.

Snickering, Xander watched the wrestler. Expression sour, he waited on the sidelines for someone to open the tunnel so he could rescue his Grundy. Number eight was still mired somewhere inside.

He turned toward Crunch and the demon snorted. “I have to say that I would never have thought that little number six would win, but she fought for it. It was a good contest. She’s got guts.” He handed Xander a fist full of bills and motioned to his friends. “Let’s go to the bar. Xander, are you coming?”

Xander shook his head. “No, I’ve got someplace else to be. I’ll see you guys later.” He hurried to the field and his friends.

“Uh oh, this doesn’t look good,” Buffy said, glancing around the room.

Xander had caught up with the jubilant group as the crowd dispersed and filled them in on Anya’s call. Sobering immediately, they’d rushed to join her.

Buffy had twisted the doorknob, easily forcing the ancient lock. Now, crowded into Savana’s small living quarters, they surveyed the room with growing alarm.

Anya righted the end table and picked up a fallen lamp. When she realized that the bottom was broken; she laid it back on the carpet beside the couch and bent to pick up the papers that had scattered across the floor. There was nothing to be done about a shattered cup or the coffee stain around it.

Willow opened the bedroom closet. “Her uniform is missing and her makeup case is out. Looking at everything, I’d guess someone came before she was due to start her shift early this morning. She knew them or she probably wouldn’t have opened the door. There was a fight and then they left with her, closing and locking the door behind them.”

“That means it was someone she trusted.”

“It was that bloody steward.” Spike stood in the doorway to the bedroom, scowling, Empress fidgeting at his side. “His scent is all over the cabin, even in the bedroom. Empress and I can both smell it, along with at least one other person.”

Buffy looked at the solemn faces. “My guess is it was on Zahn’s orders. Savana must have become a liability. We can search the ship, but I’d bet that they didn’t stash her on board. It would cause too many problems if someone discovered her, not to mention all the questions when someone finally realizes she hasn’t shown up for work and then gets a look at this cabin. Which leaves only one thing they could have done with her.”

“They threw her overboard. She’s dead,” Anya blurted. She looked like she might cry.

“I’m sorry An., but that makes the most sense.” Xander put his arm around her. Everyone knew she felt terrible. After all, none of them had spent any time with Savana. Anya had.

“They probably knocked her out or killed her and then later slid her in the water quietly.”

Buffy mused aloud. “All they had to do was wait until the Grundy trials started and then go to the opposite end of the ship. Almost all the guests were watching and most of the crew. They’d even turned the lighting down on the stern, so it was dark back there and the trials made more than enough noise to cover any sounds.”

Anya faced the group. “Promise me one thing. We’ll figure out how to make him pay.”

“Definitely.” Buffy gestured toward the door. “But right now, we all need to get moving. It’s going to be way more than awkward if we’re caught in here. The best thing to do is just lock the door and let things take their natural course.”

*****

“I can’t believe this,” Buffy whispered, careful not to wake the exhausted Grundy. “That’s a worse bruise than she got when those vampires pushed her into the dumpster. How did it happen?”

“Bloody Eight took her by surprise at that far turn. It was either a steel barricade or cause that little number seven to take a hit from a heavy swingin’ pole. Empress chose the barricade.”

Spike gently closed the bedroom door behind them. “She’s exhausted. Be out for quite awhile, I expect.” He reached for his cigarettes.

Still angered by what she’d seen, Buffy nodded. “She deserves the rest. She did incredibly well, rebounding from that awful start. I’m so proud of her.”

“Yeah, we’ll all proud of her I expect.” Spike felt a stab of guilt for not explaining why Empress had had that terrible start, but it served no purpose to get Harris in trouble or make their relationship take a turn for the worse. The demon in his head whispered what relationship?

He dug around for his lighter. “How was your evenin’ with Red?” Exhaling, he glanced at her, his expression unreadable.

Buffy shifted, twisting a strand of hair. “It was good.” Taking a deep breath, she added, “Spike, we need to talk, I know. But after all that’s happened, I don’t think I can do this right now.”

“Slayer, it’s alright. It’s been a strange night.” He stubbed out the cigarette. “I promised Empress she could have some of that imported wood, so why don’t we drop ‘round the shop for a bit? This time I need the walk. I feel like I just spent a fortnight hangin’ on that gate post. ”

“That sounds like a good idea. I could use some retail therapy.” Relieved, Buffy stopped twisting her hair. “Let’s go.”

*****.

Spike walked up, carrying the bag of wood. “Somehow I knew I’d find you with the weapons.” He looked down at the antique firearms on the table. “Gorgeous guns.”

“I like the shiny sword.” She pulled it out of the ornate scabbard. “Nice hilt. Good balance.”

Spike picked up an antique six shooter. Cocking the empty gun, he aimed at the parrot squawking above them. “This is a nice older piece. Simple, but it would get the job done.”

“I still like the sword better.” She slid it back in the scabbard.

“Guns have their place. Knew a Garlock demon that loved ‘em. Used to walk around with a Glock 9 strapped to his side. ‘Course that didn’t stop me from kickin’ his arse a time or two.”

Pulling the trigger, Spike pretended to shoot the bird. Twice. “You know what they say, Summers. Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don’t.” He pointed at the next cage.

Buffy gently unwrapped his fingers from the grip and took the gun away. “This isn’t the Wild West, Spike. You stopped to think and, oh yeah, forgot to start again. I don’t do guns. They’re for killing people, not demons. Besides if you really had to, you could always slice someone’s head off with a good sword.” She placed the gun back on the table.

“I’ve always heard that guns don’t kill people, postal workers do.”

Ignoring the vampire telling the really old joke, Buffy scanned the weapons again and picked up a cutlass. “Wow, look at this.”

Chuckling, he gave up trying to get a rise out of the Slayer. “I forgot for a moment what an old fashioned girl you are when it comes to your violence.” He ran a thumb down the blade and whistled. “Now this is a thing of beauty. If you ever decide to become a privateer, I’ll come back and get it for you.”

Buffy smiled to herself. They might start out disagreeing or even arguing but lately they always ended up in the same place.

Spike pulled her back from her thoughts. “Let’s see what else they’ve got that’s interestin’.”

They strolled the nearly empty store until they arrived at the sunglasses. Buffy picked up a pair of plain, dark wrap around Ray-Bans. “These are seriously boring. They look like someone’s grandma forgot them. On purpose.”

Spike grinned, twirling the display until he saw a cat eye shaped pair. Jeweled, they sparkled brightly in the store’s lighting. “Here you go. No one could ever accuse these of bein’ borin’.”

“Somehow I just don’t think those are me, unless I want to be mistaken for Eric Idle in some python skit. Wait, this skirt’s not long enough for that.”

“Or Theda Bara. ” At Buffy’s confused look, Spike elaborated. “Silent film star. Twenties. Think Norma Desmond with a whole lot less lines.”

Buffy looked up and spoke to a parrot. “Am I the only person in here with someone old enough to make jokes about silent film stars?”

The parrot squawked.

“That’s what I thought.”

The hand mirror suddenly popped up in front of Spike and they both laughed. He placed the jeweled glasses back. “Guess the mirrors can’t tell a vampire from a vamp.”

Buffy wandered over to another display. “I really should get one of these someday. I’m always borrowing my mom’s.”

She looked through the view finder of the small digital camera at a parrot. It was preening, almost as if readying itself for the camera. She snapped the picture, catching the parrot with a mouthful of feathers.

Spike watched her and shook his head. “What, a regular camera isn’t good enough anymore? I think you Americans like your technology too bloody much.”

“You’re such a Victorian; you need to roll with the changes. No one wants to sit around for hours in stiff clothes while some guy yells ‘watch the birdie’.” She grinned and showed the picture to Spike.

He chuckled. “I’m not talking that old, Summers. Give me a good 35 millimeter Nikon any day over one of these poncy digitals.” Stepping around the display to stand next to her, he handed back the camera. “You could capture details of that mouthful in fifty different ways.”

“Because that’s something I want to have to ponder.” Buffy stepped closer to him, holding the camera up. “A digital is an improvement. You get to see the pictures immediately, so you can reminisce about your experiences that much quicker.”

Taking the camera again, Spike snorted. “That improves the experience alright.” He pretended to stare in the camera. “My, I just can’t believe how young we all looked ten minutes ago.”

“You should understand about experience, your shirt’s screaming all about it.” She turned her nose up at the multi colored tee shirt.

He handed back the camera. “This shirt is about Jimmy Hendricks you daft bint, not some overpriced tastin’ vacation in Napa.”

“No irony there. A vampire wearing a shirt that glorifies a dead guy.” She smirked.

He arched an eyebrow. “This is an authentic souvenir tee shirt from Woodstock. Jimmy was very much alive and bloody fantastic.”

Buffy leaned toward him; her face flushed from laughing, and poked him lightly in the chest. “It figures you were hanging out in Haight- Ashbury, although I can’t picture you as a flower child, but then maybe I’m the one hallucinating.” Giggling again, she held her arms out from her sides like an airplane and pretended to teeter forward.

Chuckling at the thought of Buffy Summers as a flower child, Spike leaned forward until they were nose to nose. “Haight-Ashbury is in San Francisco, Summers. Woodstock happened in upstate New York. But then, no one would expect a Carnaby bird like you to know that.”

“What’s a carnival bird?”

“May I help you with that camera?” The saleslady’s voice intruded, startling them both. Neither one had noticed her walk up. They’d been too focused on each other.

Buffy realized she still held the camera and handed it to the saleslady. “No thanks, we’re just looking.” She turned back to Spike. He was fiddling with his lighter. “We should get back to Empress.”

Nodding, he pocketed the Zippo and began walking toward the exit with Buffy following behind him through the narrow aisle. They were nearly to the door when he heard the Slayer let out a deep breath and exclaim, “Oh, Spike, come and look at these.”

Buffy was staring into a backlit glass case. “Aren’t they absolutely gorgeous?” Spread across a soft cushion of black velvet were several strands of the most perfect pearls. A small card next to them announced their origin. Mikimoto.

He nodded. “They’re very nice. I remember when women wore pearls all the time.”

“Of course they’re way out of my price range, like everything else in here.”

She started to turn away, but not before Spike saw disappointment flare briefly in her eyes. He hated seeing that. After all, this was the Slayer. She saved the world. And although the world didn’t care, he did.

He touched her shoulder gently. “Buffy?”

Curious at the way his voice sounded, she looked up. She met his eyes and tried to read what she saw reflected there. Such gorgeous blue eyes. “What is it?”

“Better to leave that expensive stuff to the birds that need the camouflage. You’re so beautiful even dime store pearls would look simply stunning.”

Blushing lightly, she replied softly, “Thank you.” She continued to search his face until she saw something in his expression that satisfied her. “Although I’m pretty sure you’re biased in my favor.”

Staring back at her, he replied, “Much more than you know.”

He held his hand out to her.

“I know.” She placed her hand firmly in his.

Together they walked out of the store.

The couple hadn’t walked more than a dozen steps together down the hall when the radio in Buffy’s pocket buzzed. She’d forgotten she had it with her.

Frowning, she answered. “Willow? What’s the matter?” She listened for a couple minutes before saying, “we’ll meet you there.”

Dropping the radio back in her pocket, she looked up at Spike and explained. “Mr. and Mrs. Laren, the friends of Aria’s that I told you about? They showed up in the library requesting help. They had plans to have a late dinner with Aria after the Grundy trials. She ran back to her cabin to change clothes and never came back. Dargo sent them to the library before he went to check on her. That was over half an hour ago. I told Willow we’d meet them outside Aria’s cabin.”

Ten minutes later, they joined the group standing outside the cabin door. It was like reliving their earlier encounter. Buffy mentally crossed her fingers, hoping it wouldn’t end the same way before forcing open the door. Everyone crowded into the cabin.

“In there.” Spike’s voice sounded urgent.

They found Dargo unconscious, sprawled on the floor of the bedroom. Aria was gone.

“Excuse me, I’m a registered nurse.” Ro ran practiced hands across the Tamarit. “He’s been stabbed in the shoulder and lost a great deal of blood. There’s also a large bruise on the back of his head, although it doesn’t seemed to have cracked his skull. He’s unconscious, but I’d wager he’ll pull through fine if I can get this bleeding under control. I’m going to need bandages.”

Xander handed her a bath towel and she pressed it to the wound. “The knife seems to have gone straight into the muscle. It missed severing any major arteries. He’s very lucky.” She looked up at the others crowded around. “The head wound is actually worse at this point, he’s probably got a concussion.”

Anya picked up a heavy ceramic ashtray from the floor. “I think this is what they used to knock him out.”

Ro accepted the first aid kit Willow had brought just in case. “Will someone help me move him to the bed.” Spike started to lift the Tamarit when his eyes slowly opened. Grimacing, he gingerly touched his head and then winced.

“Dargo, you’ve been hit on the head and possibly suffered a concussion. Try not to move your head too quickly.”

Dargo’s eyes, dull with pain, cleared briefly and he tried to look around anyway. Buffy spoke softly. “She’s not here. Was she still here when you arrived earlier?”

The Tamarit nodded, making a face at the pain in his head.

“Once he’s comfortable, I’ll need someone to find a pad of paper and a pencil so I can question him.”

“That won’t be necessary. I can speak with him,” Jakob offered.

Spike set him gently on the bed. “Aria told us he can’t speak with anyone but her.”

“Telepathically, that’s correct. But Dargo is fluent in American Sign Language.”

Once Ro had Dargo’s arm safely bandaged, Jakob stood in Dargo’s line of sight, his hands moving rapidly. “I’m asking what happened after he left us to come back to the cabin.”

Dargo, wincing from the pain in his shoulder, “spoke” at length. Jakob occasionally interrupted for clarification. Finally Dargo leaned back and closed his eyes. Ro immediately wiped his forehead with the damp towel. “I think everyone needs to leave. He needs to rest now.”

Back in the living area once again, Jakob translated. “Standing in front of the cabin door, Dargo heard noises inside. He was worried about Aria, so he rushed inside. There were half a dozen uniformed men in here, including Zahn and a steward that he said you already know about. Two of them were holding Aria. Her arms were tied behind her back and she’d been gagged. Dargo tried to stop them and one of the men stabbed him. He doesn’t remember anything after that, so that must also be the point when one of them hit him with the ashtray, too.”

“At least we’re certain it was Zahn. It’s too bad they didn’t tell him where they planned to take her before they knocked him out.” Buffy switched to Slayer mode. “Xander, you and Anya notify the Captain. Tell him I sent you. Explain what’s happened and ask him to quietly search the ship for Roc and Zahn. He probably already has an idea something’s wrong. They’ve blown their cover so I doubt either of them reported for duty. Also have him find out if anyone else didn’t show up. Maybe we can figure out where Aria is if we know which departments his men worked. Oh, and you might as well tell him about Savana, just in case he still doesn’t know.”

“Should we have him call Ms. Demaris?”

“Not until we’ve got a better handle on the situation. I’m hoping we can find Aria before we have to worry her.”

Jakob turned to Willow. “I’m going to write down a list of ingredients. If you’ll go to the ship’s store and procure them, I’ll do a healing spell for Dargo. It will help numb his shoulder and speed recovery of both his shoulder and his head.”

Willow nodded. “Of course.”

Ro placed her hands on her hips and faced Buffy. “All of this action is good and dandy, but I’d like to straighten out some things. You see, Jakob and I are more than a little confused by all of this. We were under the impression we were on a vacation.”

She stared curiously at Buffy. “Just who are you exactly? You aren’t just another passenger that much I can tell and you seem to be in charge of these people. And why would the Captain take orders from you? And what could a ship’s officer like this Zahn possibly want with Aria in the first place? She doesn’t have any money of her own until she reaches her majority and there’s no way her aunt can pay a kidnapper’s ransom out here in the middle of the ocean. None of this makes any sense.”

Buffy waved her friends on their way. “I’ll explain. It’s a long story, but you’re not only friends of Aria, but you’ve become involved, so I think you deserve to hear it.”

“Thank you.”

Willow assisted Jakob with mixing and performing his healing spell while Buffy, with occasional imput from Spike, explained the entire story, finally revealing her identity to the couple.

When she completed the story, Ro tried to absorb it all. “So this Zahn and his followers want the bracelet but you, the Slayer, don’t know why yet. And they’ve already killed once, so obviously they won’t hesitate to do it again.” At Buffy’s nod, Ro added firmly, “then we must find Aria as soon as possible.”

“That’s my plan, but first we’ve got to figure out where to start looking.”

“I think this might help. Slayer?”

Buffy looked up at Spike. He held an envelope in his hand. At her uplifted eyebrow, he handed it to her and shrugged. “I kept smelling Zahn’s scent around the mini fridge and wondered why someone in mid abduction would stop for a cold drink. I opened it and this was taped to the inside of the door. It’s addressed to the Slayer, not Buffy Summers.”

11:00 p.m. The altar. Aria for the bracelet. Come alone.

Buffy dropped the message on the coffee table. “Come alone. So could he be any more of a cliché?”

Spike snorted.

“Buffy, when did he find out you’re the Slayer?”

She shrugged. Willow sounded anxious but it really didn’t matter. At least this way he’d know who’d be the one killing him. Instead she said, “I didn’t know there was an altar on the ship.”

Xander opened the door in time to hear. “Zahn and his crew of not so merry men aren’t actually on the ship any longer.”

“That’s a neat trick. Does he levitate or somethin’?”

“No, he steals boats,” Anya replied. “One of the seven missing employees that didn’t show up for work handles the boats used for scuba diving and all those other water sports none of us have time to enjoy. They took the largest speedboat suspended on the side of the ship. Earlier this evening it was outfitted with food and additional gas on Zahn’s orders. Although no one can remember seeing anyone board, it weighed anchor an hour ago with no posted itinerary or route. No one has a clue where they’re headed.”

“Okay, then what, they’re coming back to the ship or something tomorrow night? I’m supposed to meet him at 11:00.”

Ro spoke up. “I can answer this one. Obviously no one but me read their armload of activities information. The Malfeasance is scheduled to spend from 11:00 a.m. tomorrow”- she glanced at her watch-“make that today, until 2:00 a.m. tonight anchored in Charon’s bay off the coast of Infernas, a private island the company owns. Guests are encouraged to go snorkeling, diving or just stroll around the uninhabited island which houses the ruins of an ancient monastery. And where there’s a monastery-”

“There’s an altar,” Buffy finished grimly.

*****

Aria struggled to sit up. Her head pounded, her eyes didn’t want to focus and she was incredibly thirsty. Fighting those sensations, she concentrated and quickly realized she was no longer in her own cabin, instead she’d been placed in a small spartan room in another location. The bright light that filtered through the cracks in a miniblind told her it was midday. She must have been unconscious for hours.

Her nearly numb hands were uncomfortably bound together in front of her with a thick plastic zip tie, and were attached to a metal railing with another sip tie. Her legs were bound in the same manner.

Obviously I won’t be leaving any time soon, she thought wryly. Trying not to move her aching head too much, she tried to figure out where she was on the ship. Listening for clues to her exact whereabouts, Aria realized she was hearing the constant drone of outboard motors. That sound coupled with a slight vibration made her conclude that they were no longer on the Malfeasance but some smaller craft. A sharp stab of fear ran up her spine. They were moving away from the ship toward some unknown destination and had been for hours. How would Buffy or Dargo ever find her?

The thought of Dargo made her bite her lip in an effort not to cry. She’d watched her beloved Tamarit wrench one of the men away from her, his roar of anger sounding in her head as one of the men raised a knife behind him. She’d sent warning but it was too late. The last thing she’d heard as she felt the sharp prick of the needle was his gasp of pain.

Aria shifted. If she could raise her ankles to her hands, maybe she could figure a way to undo the zip tie.

The door opened. “There’s no way to remove that without cutting it. Since I’ve already checked to make sure you don’t have a knife, you’re out of luck.”

“Hello Zahn.” Her throat was dry and her voice sounded hoarse. She tried to swallow.

“Aria.” He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “It’s too bad I had to wait until you were unconscious to touch you. We could have had a lot of fun together if you hadn’t been such a cock tease.” At her stony silence, he smiled thinly. “Ah well, perhaps it was for the best. I hate becoming attached.”

He straightened up. “I’m having some water brought for you. Cotton mouth is an unfortunate byproduct of the drug we used. Believe it or not, I really don’t want to see you dead.” He smiled again. “At least not until I retrieve my bracelet tonight.”

Aria lifted her chin. “Why do you want the bracelet?” Her voice was still barely above a whisper. She licked her dry lips. “Shouldn’t I have the right after all of this to hear what you plan to do with it?”

Not really expecting an answer it surprised her when he nodded. “Alright.”

Sitting there bound to the railing, Aria listened to his explanation and suddenly saw Zahn with crystal clear insight and this terrible new understanding chilled her to the bone.

He’s insane.

Hours after one of his men brought water and left again, she still shuddered in despair and anguish, replaying his words over and over in her head.

I’m going to open the portal between here and Samshara and the earth will be pulled through to heaven. I’ll be venerated throughout history as the one true God who gave all the people of the world their rightful place among the glories of paradise.

Leaving the older couple to rest and watch over Dargo, Buffy led the group back to her cabin to make plans before everyone went their separate ways. It was 7:30 in the morning and the ship would drop anchor at 11:00.

Although extremely worried about Aria, the Captain had yielded to Buffy’s request to wait and notify her aunt after they attempted a rescue. With a ship still to run, he had enough to worry about and had agreed to leave everything in her capable hands.

Captain Welden requested in turn that they maintain a low profile as much as possible. Quashing any rumors concerning his missing First Officer and the other employees was a top priority and he couldn’t afford the risk of unduly alarming either the guests or the remaining employees.

Buffy had agreed that the best plan would keep the ship running smoothly and everyone unaware of the situation. Everything needed to seem normal. One thing in their favor was the change in daily routines brought about by the ship’s anchorage in the Bay. Guests were too busy with various plans and activities to notice anything amiss or a favored employee missing in action and the employees themselves were so busy they didn’t have time to gossip.

Xander and Anya would work their shifts, quietly spreading the rumor suggested by the Captain to explain the missing employees. It would also serve to band the remaining employees together and garner their support for hiding the disappearances from the guests. The dreaded Norovirus, that most feared dragon of cruise ships was named the culprit. Supposedly Zahn and the other missing employees had succumbed and were being quarantined in the Captain’s private quarters.

Once they’d set anchor, the employee that had noticed the missing boat would be speedily dispatched to the island where he would have no contact with other employees the entire evening, instead spending a double shift herding guests into lines for the water taxis.

After that first shift Xander the king of overtime would take the night off, presumably to spend it visiting the ruins with his girlfriend while Anya planned to become ill and call in before her second shift.

Willow would do her usual library drive by before fulfilling any assignments.

Now having left the injured Dargo and the Larens behind in Aria’s cabin, the Scoobies were finally alone in a private cabin away from prying eyes for the first time the entire trip. It felt comfortably familiar. After all, it wasn’t like this was the first time they’d ever had to come up with an impromtu plan to implement. The only thing they lacked were moldy books and a donut run.

“So, Slayer, how do you want to play this?” Spike leaned against their couch and lit a cigarette.

The Slayer plopped down on the couch close to Spike. “We don’t have a choice. I don’t want Aria harmed, so we’ll have to follow their instructions.”

Spike was about to protest when she snickered and added, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t kill them all after I show up alone first.”

Xander, already missing the donuts, was digging around for a snack and discovered several bags of microwave popcorn. “Wow, so this is how the other half lives.” Happily he started the timer on the microwave.

Buffy watched him for a moment before replying. “Because you just can’t make demons comfortable enough.”

Willow slumped in the chair across from Buffy; her legs slung across the chair arm. She popped the top on a can of Mountain Dew. “I pulled a schedule out of Aria’s desk. According to the itinerary, the ship will be anchored offshore and guests may begin leaving for the island at 12:00 p.m. Four runabouts will travel between the Malfeasance and the island, making the round trip every fifteen minutes with the last boat returning to the ship at 2:30 a.m. We set sail again at 3:30.”

Spike dug out one of the handouts he and Buffy had been given. Spreading it flat on the coffee table, he pointed at a map on one of the inner pages. “Here’s the monastery. It sits at the crest of a small hill in the center of the island. Looks to be about a fifteen minute walk.”

Frowning, Buffy ran a finger across the map. “I don’t like this. There are too many entrances and exits and three different footpaths leading up to it. Some of us will have to be in place well before the meet time. I’m also going to need an exact location of that altar.” She looked up at the group. “I don’t know what to do with all the civilians. You’d think Zahn could have come up with a less active location so he could die quietly without an audience.” She sat back down next to Spike again.

“Maybe we could have the Captain close off the monastery around 10:00, falling ruins or something equally sue-worthy.” Xander settled down with the bowl of popcorn and called over to his girlfriend rummaging in the fruit basket. “Hey An, would you get me a soda?”

“Sure. Spike? Would you like some blood while I’m up?”

“Ta, Anyanka.”

Empress padded into the room and crooned. Buffy smiled at the Grundy. “Hey Empress. Spike, where’s that bag from the store?” She reached down to unzip her boot. “I’ve had these knee-high boots on for hours. I think my feet are molded to their shape. I wonder if there’s ever been a Slayer with pointed feet before?”

“I managed to get rid of mine in the library for a little while. I don’t know how anyone used to dance in them for hours.” Willow started digging through the brochures and papers to see if there was any other mention of the monastery. Leafing through one of the thicker brochures, she continued to talk. “According to that list the Captain gave Xander we haven’t met any of Zahn’s men. They either worked outside or down in the engine room.”

“The Slayer and I know that steward, but he’s the only one other than Zahn himself.” He threw Empress a huge chunk of wood from the bag. She caught it easily, thumping her tail before settling down happily in front of the coffee table.

Sitting back down on the couch, Spike set the bag on the floor next to him. From the corner of his eye he watched Buffy, miniskirt riding up her thighs; bend over to unzip her boot. His eyes slowly traveled from her thigh to the boot’s zipper. He licked his lips.

Realizing the voyeuristic picture he presented, Spike reached for his cigarettes. The Slayer wouldn’t like him salivating over her like a right git in front of her friends. He knew she hadn’t told anyone but Red about their budding relationship.

He replayed the conversation over the pearls and the subsequent handholding and a warm feeling settled over him. Or maybe it was the combination of her incredible legs and those sexy boots right next to him. Anyway, it was becoming warm in here. Which was surprising because he never noticed a room’s ambient temperature. Until now. He felt like cranking up the air conditioning.

Across the room Anya waited for Spike’s blood to heat in the microwave. Biting into a pear, she noticed Spike watching transfixed as Buffy slowly unzipped her boot.

When he licked his lips, Anya smirked to herself. Spike’s blood was heating alright. She’d noticed the major attraction between the couple. After all she been watching men and women fall in and out of love for a thousand years, and she knew the signs- especially when they were obvious enough to be blinking neon-red.

She ate her pear thoughtfully. The enforced togetherness must have clinched it. The only interesting question that remained now was just how far had it gone?

Taking another bite of her pear, she surreptitiously analyzed the couple. Slowly unzipping her boot, the Slayer was still talking to Willow; she was completely unaware of the sensations and discomfort she’d created in Spike or his attempt to mask it. Yet her actions suggested she was definitely interested, too. Why else would she have left an entire couch open and sat down practically on top of him twice in fifteen minutes?

Obviously they weren’t having sex yet, the UST was still full blown. Too bad. Anya had always thought the vampire would probably be a stallion in bed. Throw in an athletic Slayer and all sorts of possibilities arose….

The microwave dinged. Startled, she dropped her pear. Throwing it in the trash, she snuck one more look at the scene playing out under everyone’s nose.

Spike, in his valiant struggle for nonchalance, held a cigarette between the fingers of one hand. The other hand clutched the soft pack almost hard enough to mash it. Frozen, he was still openly staring at Buffy’s legs. Anya had once seen an expression like that on a devourer demon. Just before he’d earned his name.

Definitely a leg man. Light the cigarette Spike. Otherwise it’s a dead giveaway.

Anya snickered at her joke. And Xander thought she didn’t have a sense of humor. Speaking of humor….

Avoiding the coffee table, Buffy stretched her bare legs toward Spike. Sighing audibly, she wiggled her toes right in front of his face.

Spike’s eyes widened. He shifted uncomfortably and stared down at his hands. Realizing he’d added an unlit cigarette to the scene, he focused on finding his lighter.

Anya surveyed the others and wanted to laugh. What was Spike worried about? Xander, mouth stuffed with popcorn, was busy looking over the trophy Empress had won while Willow was still digging through the box of papers. Even Buffy, the lust object herself, was still babbling to Willow.

Anya decided Spike and Buffy were going to need a good push after this bracelet thing was over. Too much UST wasn’t good for anyone.

Carefully balancing the cup of blood and two sodas, Anya started toward the group and saw Empress still lying in front of the coffee table. She was openly watching her. The Grundy, her wood nearly consumed, was positioned to see everything. She caught Anya’s eye and winked. Winking back, Anya realized the Grundy was more observant than everyone else in the room, including her.

The boat pitched again and Empress whined softly. Buffy, one hand clutching the seat in front of her, reached over with her other hand and picked up the Grundy. Being mindful of her clothing, she set the little demon in her lap. Empress snuggled down, pushing her nose into the Slayer’s stomach. Gently stroking the soft fur between the Grundy’s pointed ears, Buffy leaned down and whispered, “Only a few more minutes and we’ll be on dry land.” She settled back against the hard plastic seat as the Grundy snuggled closer.

She didn’t blame Empress for being unhappy. Their runabout, fully loaded with fifteen passengers, four Grundies and the two working employees, was fighting the island’s outgoing tide every inch of the way. They were riding so low in the water it was impossible not to feel every dip and swell. Fortunately for her, Slayer’s had a strong stomach, while evidently Grundies did not.

She tried to help Empress take her mind off the trip. “So Empress, how much deeper do you suppose the ocean would be without sponges?”

All she got for her trouble was a surly snort.

Giving up, she surveyed the hilly island looming steadily larger. Having never before seen any island up close and personal, Buffy curiously compared it to versions she’d seen on the big screen.

This island appeared larger than the one where Tom Hanks and Wilson had spent too much time, although the craggy hill in the center made it look smaller than the one where Jack Black discovered King Kong. A distinct lack of fog plus the tiki torches and large pink striped awning set up on the beach made it a lot less sinister than Cthulhu’s place of rest.

Buffy fervently hoped Zahn didn’t plan to use the bracelet to awaken any Old Ones. She definitely didn’t have a large enough sword for that.

The boat finally tied up at a short wooden dock and the guests piled out. Buffy set the much happier Grundy on the sand and strolled over to the large buffet table set up under the awning. Grabbing a couple bottles of water, she made her way in the darkening sky toward the center trail, the steepest of three that led to the hill’s pinnacle and the monastery.

Xander, dressed in his work uniform, stood in front of metal stanchions wrapped with caution tape that blocked access to the trail. He was speaking to a couple in swimsuits. “I’m sorry but awhile ago some rocks fell at the ruins. It isn’t safe up there anymore. However, there’s a nifty beach trail that starts just over there. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it and don’t forget it’s only half an hour until the clambake and Bluetini’s.”

Buffy waited until the couple headed down the beach before saying in a low voice. “Any sign yet?”

Xander shook his head. “Nada. Anya and I walked up there when we arrived a couple hours ago. Even though we knew Spike was up there somewhere, we never did see him. He’s doing a good job on surveillance. In fact we didn’t see anybody except a couple of people we recognized that came over on the same runabout. It seems that most everyone is too lazy to hike up the trail; they’d rather hang out on the beach and drink.

Willow walked the length of the beach trail and didn’t find any boats anchored anywhere. Of course the trail doesn’t go all the way around the entire island either. After An and I walked back down, I blocked off this trail and gave Willow and Anya the other two. That was an hour ago.

Luckily everyone that actually did walk up there came back down anyway when it started getting to be time for food, so it hasn’t been much of a problem to move the stragglers along. Our best guess is that Zahn must be anchored on the other side of the island past the end of the beach trail. He either knows another way up the hill that’s not labeled on the tourist map, or else you’ve been stood up.”

Checking to see if anyone was watching, he lifted the caution tape. “Good luck.”

“Remember, I’ll send Empress if we need you guys for anything.” Buffy ducked under the tape and the Grundy followed.

Picking her way carefully along the narrow, rocky trail, she thought about what Xander had said. Zahn must have tied up his stolen boat on the other side of the island. She couldn’t see him blowing off his only chance to grab the bracelet. Adjusting her eyes to the deepening gloom cast by the thick overhanging vegetation, she stared down at the delicate bracelet on her wrist. It had caused so much trouble over the past weeks.

*****

Spike shifted. He patted his shirt pocket and then stopped himself, frustrated. He’d spent the entire afternoon hiding from the sun under a magicked umbrella nicked from the ship while checking out the monastery for signs of Zahn and his merry band of kidnappers. He’d even worn fifties clothes including a bloody hat so he wouldn’t stand out from the other guests.

He finally dropped the poncy peach colored umbrella and stood in the thick tropical vegetation impatiently waiting out the last rays of late afternoon sun watching for the Slayer and dying for a cigarette.

He cursed softly over how ridiculous that sentence sounded, even in his own head. It didn’t help. He still wanted the bloody cigarette. Hiding in the grove of coconut palms a few yards from the monastery’s front doorway, Spike knew lighting up wouldn’t be one of his brightest moves and muttered another oath After all, two of his men were vampires. They’d probably smell it all the way at the bottom of the hill. Now he had yet another reason to kill Zahn.

Hearing footsteps and voices, he forgot about the cigarette and slid farther back in the shadows. Show time.

*****

“Light the torches and find some way to attach them to the walls by the altar.” Roc pointed at the crumbling walls within the center of the main room. “Monastery” was a misnomer for the walled ruins and there was no monastic altar either. While this may once have been a place of divine worship for the few Christians living among indigenous peoples within the island chain, they had merely discovered a convenient structure already in place.

This decayed stone structure was eons old and had seen many groups of faithful worship their deities and then move on, including the mysterious people who had been the original architects. They had diligently built this, only to vanish into history themselves.

Now the only thing that remained were four crumbling outer walls surrounding several smaller interior rooms, one set within the other like a Chinese puzzle box.

The main roof had crumbled, leaving the structure susceptible to the seasonal monsoons that swept across the island. Rubble and plant debris was scattered everywhere.

The worn stone altar, within the smallest most interior room, consisted of a huge stone square the size of a railway car. Several stones at the far end stood upright imitating a miniature Stonehenge.

Picking their way among the debris, Roc’s men jammed their torches into large cracks in the walls and lit them.

Two more followers took up positions on either side of the doorway. Roc nodded, pleased. Everything was set according to Zahn’s instructions.

Zahn strode through the back door with the two vampires following in his wake.

Walking slowly behind them, feet still numb, was Aria. Styre followed the woman, the muzzle of his revolver pressed into the small of her back.

Aria’s feet had been freed, but her hands remained bound in front of her. Exhausted and unable to see clearly in the torch light, she stumbled.

Styre pulled her up again. “Keep moving,” he snarled.

Zahn ignored them both. He stood on the altar and called to his assistant. “Are we ready? The Slayer should arrive shortly.”

“Everything is in place.”

“Good.” Zahn turned to Styre. “Find a way to rope our guest to the wall. I want your gun trained on her at all times.”

He turned again to his right hand man. “I didn’t see any guests. The Slayer must have had the entire area closed.”

Roc nodded. “I sent someone down the front path earlier and she did just as you expected. All three paths are closed and some employees, probably hers, are manning them.”

“Good. So far she’s done exactly as we expected.” He glanced at his watch. “In fifteen minutes, she’ll come through the front door with my bracelet, while her smart mouthed boyfriend and that ugly Grundy try to in sneak through the back.”

“We’re ready for them.”

Buffy stopped several feet past the trail head and wiped the sweat dripping down her face with the tail of her white shirt. She’d opted to wear pedal pushers and tennis shoes so she could manage the trail easily. With her blonde hair tied back in a pony tail, she looked younger, softer, like any teen from the post war years out walking her pet.

But Buffy wasn’t a normal teenager and Empress was no pampered pet.

The Slayer reached down and removed the leash and fluffy bow from Empress while whispering a command in her ear. The Grundy immediately unhinged her mouth and dropped Buffy’s favorite knife and a wooden stake at her feet.

She slipped the stake into the band of her slacks beneath the shirt and dropped the knife in the front pocket of her pants. She motioned the Grundy forward.

Leaving the marked path, they quietly stepped into the thick tropical foliage. Allowing a wide berth, they circled around, silently following the perimeter walls. Unable to turn on a flashlight, she depended on the rising moon’s light and Empress’ superior night vision to guide them both.

Reaching the midpoint of the ruined structure’s outer wall, she heard a slight rustling in the thick underbrush on her left and raised an eyebrow at the Grundy. Empress sniffed the air and wagged her tail once. Buffy waited.

Spike parted the underbrush and slipped out. He crooked his finger and they followed into the tree line, stopping behind a grove of coconut palms.

“We’re far enough away now.”

“What have you found out?”

Spike patted his pocket out of habit and scowled. At Buffy’s look, he shrugged. “They’re all in there. Hisself came in a bit ago with Aria, the two vamps and a fat Blaylock demon armed with a revolver. The steward and the rest have knives. I counted nine in all.”

Leaning over a bare patch of sand, he quickly sketched the layout. Buffy looked it over and nodded, satisfied.

“What’s the plan, Slayer?”

“I’m going in first to draw Zahn’s attention. He’s expecting me.”

“Aria’s buttoned up tight. He’s goin’ to want the bracelet before he’ll free her.”

“I know. I might even give it to him if I have to, in order to get her out of harm’s way. It’s not like he’s going to be allowed to keep it more than a few minutes. That’s where you come in Spike. I want you to protect Aria, no matter what. She’s an innocent and the most important thing in that room besides the bracelet.”

“Protect the girl. Got it.”

Buffy looked at Empress. “Once Aria’s freed, I’m going to need a diversion. You know what to do.”

The Grundy growled and her teeth shone brightly in the moonlight.

“Give me five minutes first.”

“Five minutes.” Spike leaped, soundlessly landing on the perimeter wall. Gliding to a side window, he waited in the shadows. Empress slid silently into the thick foliage that grew along the bottom of the wall and headed toward the back door.

Buffy strode through the front door.

“Hello Zahn.”

Still standing in the middle of the altar, Zahn dipped his head. “Hello Buffy. Or would you rather be called Slayer? On the Malfeasance I always preferred being called by my title.”

Wrinkling her nose, she glanced pointedly at the debris littered around the altar room. “I would have thought you’d invite me somewhere a little nicer. After all, we did share a moment once. This place looks like you forgot to pay the housekeeper.”

His eyes bored into her. “This place was once considered holy by the Hothis. I thought it fitting that it be used again by our people.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “So where are the rest of them? They prefer Indiana over you?”

Ignoring her question, he lowered his arms, again resembling the sardonic officer she’d met on the ship.

Glancing over her clothes, he said, “I liked what you wore the other night much better. Not only do these hide your considerable talents, it looks disconcertingly like you’re on the way to a sock hop.”

Crossing his arms, he nodded at Aria hanging from the wall. “Rather bad taste dressing for a party considering Aria’s precarious situation, don’t you think?”

“Why?” Buffy moved closer to the altar. “I thought this was the perfect outfit to massacre a bunch of demon cultists in a dilapidated church. Or do you think I should have worn a dress?”

“I’ve a different opinion on who will be massacred of course. Although I do love fencing with you Slayer, you’ll have to excuse my lack of witty repartee. At the moment, my mind is focused on one thing only. Where’s the bracelet?”

Buffy tugged her sleeve up, displaying the bracelet clasped to her wrist. “Aria for the bracelet. I believe that was the deal in that really clichéd note.”

“Roc, the moment the Slayer leaves the bracelet on the rock next to her and moves away, you may release Ms. Demaris.”

Buffy placed the bracelet on the rock and stepped a few feet away, keeping her eyes trained on Zahn. “Your turn.”

He stepped down from the altar. “Move farther away. I’ve heard stories about a Slayer’s speed.”

Holding her hands in the air, Buffy moved across the room. Zahn waited until she stopped near the door. Two of his men moved to stand next to her.

“Roc, you may release her.”

The steward pulled out a knife. He slit both the rope that bound Aria to the wall and the plastic zipties that held her wrists together. She fell to the floor.

Buffy called over to her. “Aria, go out the back way and wait there.”

At that instant a fireball arced through the air from an open window. It landed squarely on the chest of the vampire standing behind Zahn. The vampire burst into dust.

Zahn dove for the bracelet.

Roc pushed Aria toward the wall again.

Spike dove through the window and landed next to Aria. Styre raised the gun. Aiming it at Aria, he squeezed the trigger.

Spike jumped in front of Aria and the bullet slammed into his shoulder. Morphing into game face, he growled and leaped at Styre, knocking the revolver out of his hand. It clattered to the floor as he and the Blaylock grappled with each other.

Buffy started for Zahn and the bracelet, but the two followers standing next to her turned and attacked. Pulling out her knife, she deflected the thrust from one of the demons’ own knives.

Empress raced through the back door, shooting another fireball. It landed in front of a demon running to help Styre. That delayed the demon long enough for Empress to reach him. Lifting his arm, he tried to drive his knife into her back. She leaped out of the way. Growling, she circled around him. Trying to follow, he stumbled over some debris, affording her the opportunity to drive forward. She bit his leg, nearly severing it. Screaming, he collapsed to the ground. The Grundy bit his neck, finishing the job.

Spike finally got a grip on the Blaylock and twisted his neck. Styre crumpled to the ground.

Buffy kicked the knife away from the vampire on her right. Spinning around she knocked the demon on her left into the wall. Unconscious, it slid to the ground. Turning back to the vampire, she drove her stake into his heart. It burst into dust.

Growling, Empress advanced on the last two demons. They ran out the back door. She shot two fireballs through the door, hitting them both. They fell to the ground.

Spike walked back to Aria and helped her up. “Pet, are you alright?”

Still shaken, she nodded. “Thank you. You saved my life.” She touched his shoulder. It was bleeding profusely. “That looks pretty bad.”

Spike looked down. “I’ll be fine. Vampire, remember?” He suddenly smirked. “In fact I’d have to say it’s definitely not a grave situation.”

When she finally smiled at the weak joke, he patted her shoulder. “That’s a girl. See, everythin’ will be fine. The Slayer’s on it.” He called over to Buffy. “Slayer, I’ve got Aria here and she’s alright.”

“Good.” Walking over, she looked around for the Grundy. “Empress? Walk Aria down to Xander. Anyone from this group gets in your way, kill them. Aria, please tell Xander that I said for everybody to go back to the ship. We’ll be along later after we find Zahn.”

The Grundy stepped to Aria’s side.

Aria grimaced. “Buffy, Zahn’s completely insane. He thinks he’s some sort of Messiah. He plans to open a portal with the bracelet and suck the entire planet through to Samshara.”

“Guys like him aren’t truly crazy, just really evil with a generous side of stupid. But don’t worry, I’ll stop him.”

Aria nodded weakly and turned for the door, Empress beside her.

Spike scented the air. “They left through here. Probably headin’ for their boat.”

“Let’s go.” She started for the door. “What is it with demons wanting to suck the planet into other dimensions? Is there some demonic law against going through a portal without dragging everybody else along? I mean, been there, done this already.”

Walking beside her, Spike shrugged. “It’s on every evil wanker’s to do list that I’ve ever met. Find a portal to somewhere no one wants to go. Check. Open it. Check. Suck the world through it. Check.” He muttered, “At least Angelus used a big stone statue instead of some poncy bracelet. It had a lot more panache.”

Buffy ignored the mention of her ex, although she did sort of agree with Spike’s assessment. The bracelet seemed almost like a toy compared to Acathla.

She reached out and fingered his silk shirt. The red stain was growing wider across his shoulder. “I told you guns were bad news.”

His lips quirked. “And at this particular moment, I’m not inclined to disagree.”

“Should I do this solo or do you think you can rise to the occasion?”

The vampire smirked. “Always. And If I can’t, I’ll slide over to it.”

At her arched eyebrow, he shrugged. “You know I’m fine, Slayer. I’m losing blood, but nothin’ a few cups from our fridge won’t fix. Let’s get that bracelet back. I don’t fancy visitin’ this Samshara with billions of other people. I’m fairly sure a crowd that size would spoil the ambiance.”

He looked down ruefully at the vintage silk. “Besides that demon ruined Rupert’s shirt. The least I can do is kill Zahn.”

“Oh hell, Giles loaned you that shirt?”

At his nod, she grimaced. “Now we’ve got to kill Zahn, or there’ll be no pleasing him. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

Following clearly visible tracks, they turned downhill into the trees. “By the way, I like the natty fedora. Very ‘Ward Cleaver’. When I saw it, I almost expected to hear you calling ‘Beaver- You and Wally get down here right now and kill these demons and don’t forget to clean up afterwards.’ ”

“I liked June. She was a hottie. I’d do her.” He smirked at the Slayer’s raised eyebrow. “I like a woman that wears high heels and pearls while she’s cleanin’.”

Her eyebrow went higher and he quickly changed the subject. “I used the hat to hide my hair in the moonlight. You know, I had to borrow everythin’ for this decade. I didn’t have anythin’ of my own this time.”

Buffy grinned. “Translation-they didn’t wear jeans.”

“The fedora actually belongs to Clem, it’s a Borsalino.” He grumbled. “I’m probably goin’ to have to pay to have it reblocked now.”

“It’s Clem’s? Really? What’s he do with his ears?”

They came to a clearing on the beach. Zahn stood in the middle wearing the bracelet and chanting in a monotone voice. His arm high in the air, the bracelet glowed brightly.

Roc stepped forward, blocking their way. “You’re too late. The portal will open any moment. Then we’ll all experience the wonders of Samshara.”

“Sorry, Roc, but I’ve had enough vacations for awhile. Besides I didn’t pack any clothes for other dimensions. Spike, this is your fight. I’m going to stop our travel agent.”

Spike changed to game face. “It’s over Roc.”

The demon lifted his knife. “I don’t think so vampire.”

Running, Buffy reached Zahn. He had stopped chanting. Sweating profusely, his eyes were dilated. He shot her a brilliant smile. “Buffy. It’s going to be so beautiful there. You’ll love it. Just wait and see.”

“Sorry, Zahn, but the portal stays closed. I like the earth where it is. It fits perfectly in that slot between Mars and Venus.” She inched closer. “Besides, what would we do with the moon?”

An odd crackling noise filled the air as a bright light appeared, changing the night sky into day. “Sorry Slayer, time’s up. I win. You’ve no chance now.”

“I learned long ago that there’s always a chance.” She threw her serrated knife, slicing neatly through Zahn’s wrist just above the bracelet. The severed hand dropped to the ground and the bracelet immediately dulled. The noise abruptly stopped and the bright light winked out, turning the sky dark again.

Clutching his arm to his chest, Zahn screamed at her. “You bitch. Don’t you realize that I’m the true Hothis Messiah? This was my destiny. I’ve been waiting a lifetime to go to Samshara.”

“Maybe I can help with that life part.” She reached out and snapped his neck. “Okay, you’re free to go there. I just hope they like megalomaniacs, or you’re seriously screwed.”

Looking around for Spike, she noticed Roc lying dead on the ground, his knife sticking out of his chest. “Spike?”

“I’m here, Slayer. Anya will be glad to hear we paid those gits back for the demon bird.”

Buffy slipped the bracelet into her pocket. “Come on Spike, I think you need a little tender loving care.”

He ran his tongue across his teeth. “Are you applying for the job?”

“With Dargo on the mend, I think Ro would love the chance to fuss over somebody else.” She headed toward Zahn’s stolen boat.

Spike fell in step with her. “Where are we goin’?”

“There’s no sense in letting everyone on the other side of the island see you bleeding all over Giles’ shirt. Besides, my own clothes? Seriously in need of Tide with bleach.”

“I didn’t know you knew American Sign Language.” Xander looked across the table at Willow busily conversing with Dargo and Jakob.

“I was tired of French, so I took it as my language requirement this past semester.”

Dargo signed something that caused Willow to smile. She nodded and they both stood up. She turned back to the table. “I mentioned how much I love this music and Dargo asked me to dance.” She looked down at Aria. “If it’s okay with you.”

Aria smiled. “Of course. Besides Dargo knows this forties stuff isn’t really my style.” She nodded at the orchestra on the band stand. “Although I’ve got to say if anything could pull me away from punk, this might be it.”

Jakob leaned back in his chair. “Ro and I danced to it the first time around.”

She touched his hand tenderly. “Tommy Dorsey was the best.”

Willow and Dargo disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor just as Buffy arrived at the table. Empress looked up. Crooning, she wagged her tail.

Buffy smiled at the little demon. “Thanks, Empress.” She gently rubbed the velvet dress. “I feel a little like Cinderella. Thank you so much, Anya.”

“You’re welcome. When you were looking at it the other night, I said it would be perfect for you. It’s good to know I’m right.”

Buffy sat down, carefully smoothing the vintage gown. “I’m still not clear how you arranged this.”

Anya smiled. “My friend Bela owed me a couple of favors and she’s the new supervisor in the store.”

Xander looked up. “What happened to that bitch you were working for?”

“I figured out she was stealing from the shop and alerted the Captain. She got fired and he made Bela the new boss. She was so excited she even loaned Buffy shoes to match.”

Aria reached for her vodka martini and the bracelet on her wrist sparkled. It matched her dress and there was no reason not to wear it anymore. “You do look fabulous. Having your hair up really shows off the neckline. Wait until Spike sees you.”

Buffy looked nervously at Xander to see what he’d make of Aria’s offhand comment. He caught the look and to her surprise, he nodded seriously. “Buffy, I haven’t been Spike’s greatest fan in the past, but I want you to know that I think you should do what you want. If that means dating Spike, than go for it. He’s not so bad lately. And hey, taking a bullet for Aria would give any guy serious cred.”

Anya added, “He did just what the hero in a spy movie would have done, but without getting himself seriously hurt. I think spy agencies should consider hiring vampires. It would certainly cut down on their overhead, personnel costs and tax situation.”

Trying not to cringe at Anya’s idea, Buffy said, “Why Xander, you’re not starting to actually like Spike, are you?”

He grinned a lopsided grin. “He and I did some bonding on this trip.” He made an effort not to draw attention to the smirk on Empress’ face that he could see out of the corner of his eye.

Buffy smiled at her friend. “Thank you Xander, that means a lot.”

“So where is the illustrious hero? He should be here sweeping you off your feet,” Aria said.

“I’m not sure. Between falling asleep on Ro and Jakob’s couch while they took care of Spike’s bullet wound and then letting him catch some zzz’s, I haven’t even talked to him since we got back from the island. I thought I’d see him earlier this evening, but he got called to the bridge. Then I left to pick up this dress from Anya. He still wasn’t back when I finished getting ready but he left me a note that he’d meet us here.”

Aria stared toward the door and a smile crossed her face. “And so he has.”

Buffy turned to look at the door. Spike stood framed in the doorway. He leisurely scanned the crowd searching for her. The dark blue naval uniform played against his pale skin and hair. His sharp cheekbones stood out starkly in the muted light as he moved through the crowd. He caught sight of her. Meeting her eyes, he strode purposely forward.

Pushing her chair back, Buffy stood up. Smoothing down her gown, she met his eyes. Confidently, she lifted her head and walked toward him.

They met at the edge of the dance floor.

Spike smiled softly at the beautiful woman in front of him. “You’re a vision.” He took another admiring look. “That’s a lovely gown.”

“You look mighty dashing yourself.” Mindful of his still healing wound, she ran a hand gently across his jacket and touched an epaulette. “Where did you ever find a World War Two Naval uniform?”

“It’s a loan from Captain Welden.”

“Don’t you have to be in the navy or something to wear this?” She traced the embroidery on his sleeve.

“Funny story. Captain Welden just awarded me an officer’s position for savin’ Aria.”

“Really?”

Spike grinned. “Meet the new First Officer of the Malfeasance.”

She smiled with him. “Okay, but if you say anything about showing a sailor a good time, I’m going to smack you right in your wounded shoulder.”

She dropped her hand, suddenly afraid. “You’re not going to run away to sea are you?”

“Not unless you run with me.” His eyes twinkled. “Although the idea of gettin’ a really proper send off does have appeal.”

Sobering, he added, “I told him that there was this girl in port and I don’t fancy leavin’ her alone. Ever.”

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small box. “That dress doesn’t do you justice. Maybe this will help.”

Buffy lifted the top. Nestled inside was a single strand of the Mikimoto pearls. “Spike, these are beautiful. Thank you.”

He placed the pearls around her neck and fastened the clasp. Running a finger gently along the strand he said, “I was right the other night. Even with the pearls, you still eclipse the dress.”

He gently lifted her chin so he could search her eyes. “Buffy, I’m falling in love with you.”

She touched his face, running a finger along his cheekbone to his lips. “That works out perfectly, because I’m falling in love with you, too.”

The orchestra struck up a slow, sweet ballad as the torch singer crooned about finding new love during wartime.

Spike gathered Buffy in his arms and they swayed slowly around the floor.

When the song ended he kissed her.

They reluctantly pulled apart and she stared into Spike’s face. His eyes had darkened to the color of a stormy sea. “Let’s go up on deck. This is our last night on board and I want to see you wearin’ that dress in the moonlight.”

Buffy, still breathless from the kiss, finally found her voice. “It may be our last night on board, but it’s just the beginning.”

Pulling her close, they wove their way through the growing crowd.

At the table, a waiter placed a platter heaped with various varieties of imported wood in front of Empress. The Grundy looked them over, sniffing daintily at the delicacies before choosing a thick piece of Brazilian Satinwood.

Chewing delicately she watched her companions walk out the door.

Savoring the fresh crunchiness of the Satinwood, Empress smiled smugly to herself. She loved it when a plan came together.

The End

Chapter title credits:
Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay-Otis Redding
Pressure Drop-The Clash
Fantastic Voyage-Coolio
Keepin’ Your Lure in the Water-Randy Travis
Beyond the Sea- Bobby Darin
Cross the Devil’s Sea-Allman Brothers
Float On-Modest Mouse
Barracuda-Heart
If I Had a Boat-Dave Mathews Band
Water Line-Brothers Four
The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea-George Harrison
Row, Row, Row Your Boat-Charles Kelly
Sailing- Christopher Cross
Swallowed by the Sea-Coldplay
Green River
Southern Cross-Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
Black Water- Doobie Brothers
Come Sail Away-Styx