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.
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