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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.





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