Spike and Buffy began their exploration of the ship, searching for anything that might give them a clue as to how to get home. So far, they'd been unsuccessful.

Buffy glanced around nervously as they walked, a slight tinge of fear in her eyes that Spike had never seen there before. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she jumped. "Easy, pet. It's all right. I told you I'm going to help you out."

Buffy pushed his hand off of her. "Somehow the idea of you helping me doesn't exactly fill me with feelings of warmth and security, Spike."

"Look, Slayer," Spike replied, his eyes narrowing. "I may be a lot of things, but I do have a spot of honor. If I say I'm going to help you, then I'm bloody well going to carry through on that."

"Fine. I'll take great comfort in the fact that my mortal enemy is watching my back."

"Had no problem trusting your 'mortal enemy' with your mum and little sis not too long ago."

"That was different. You were the only person strong enough to protect them, and I knew you couldn't hurt them."

"Couldn't or wouldn't, pet? Chip wouldn't have stopped me from feeding them to the first vamp I saw."

Buffy looked at him in horror. "You wouldn't…"

"Exactly. Wouldn't. Not every vampire is as twisted as your ex, Slayer. Some of us are capable of behaving like something other than sadistic psychopaths. Now come on, we have a lot more ship to search."

Buffy stopped short even as Spike walked on. She'd never thought about him being able to cause any real damage with the chip, but suddenly that seemed incredibly naïve. Her mind drifted for a moment to Harmony. Buffy was almost positive Harmony was still around, doing hell knew what with Spike. Granted, Harmony was about as incompetent as they came, but with Joyce and Dawn alone in Spike's crypt, could they have been at the mercy of the blonde vampiress? Would Spike have done anything to protect them then? And what if Glory had shown up at Spike's crypt, looking for the Key. The chip certainly wouldn't have stopped Spike from handing Buffy's family over to the hellgod.

"Hello, Slayer? Planning to start walking again any time soon, or have you grown particularly fond of that spot?"

Buffy blinked, realizing that Spike had stopped and was facing her, arms crossed. "Oh, sorry. I was, um…the stars are pretty."

Spike chuckled, shaking his head. "As tough as you are, you can be such a girl sometimes."

Buffy planted her hands on her hips. "And what's wrong with that?"

Spike leered at her, smirking at Buffy's sudden blush. "Nothing, kitten. Nothing at all."

"What's the little filly doing out of her cabin, cap'n?"

Buffy and Spike both turned suddenly to see a small, filthy pirate eyeing them warily. Buffy's nose wrinkled at the man's unpleasant odor. Spike grabbed Buffy's arm. "Takin' her back to my cabin for a bit of fun," Spike replied.

Buffy snatched her arm away from Spike, almost as a reflex. "I'm not letting you touch me!"

Spike gave Buffy a pained look then grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder. "Women," he told the pirate, "do not know when it's best to keep their bleedin' mouths shut and just do as they're told."

"Aye," the pirate agreed. "You think maybe you'll be sharin' the lady when you're done with her, cap'n?"

Spike couldn't resist teasing Buffy a bit more, even as she squirmed in a futile attempt to get down. "I might. Although by then she won't be much of a lady anymore, now will she?" Spike and the pirate shared a laugh, drowning out Buffy's cry of outrage.

"Well, you break 'er in real good for us then," the pirate said, slapping Buffy on the bottom.

Spike pushed down the surge of possessiveness that made him want to rip off the other man's arm and beat him to death with it for daring to touch Buffy like that. "Will do," he said, forcing a grin. "Now if you'll excuse us…"

"Course, cap'n. Know you got a long night ahead…"

Spike nodded, walking towards the cabin he'd earlier discovered to be his. Buffy struggled to get out of his grasp until he said, "You know, Slayer, all that's doing is wriggling that cute little arse of your in my face."

"Pig," Buffy muttered. Her wiggling stopped.

Once Spike got her to his cabin, he put her down and shut the door. "That was bloody stupid, Slayer."

"What was I supposed to do with you saying those things?"

"Gee, I don't know—play along?"

"But I didn't want him thinking we're in here doing that."

"What bloody difference does it make? He's probably not even real!"

Buffy crossed her arms angrily. "But the things you were saying were just gross, Spike."

"I was playing the part! What did you want me to say?" Spike affected a slightly different accent, sounding more like Giles than his normal self, "Excuse me, good sir, but we're in search of an interdimensional portal. Have you perchance seen one laying about?" Spike moved closer to her, his tone darkening again. "We're not in your world now, Slayer. You don't have all the power—or any at all, actually. As far as anyone here is concerned, you're nothing but the hostage of a pirate. You can't throw around punches and insults to get your way. You're just a weak, helpless little girl."

Spike expected Buffy to yell at him, or possibly even hit him despite his pointing out that that wouldn't do any good. Instead, she sat down on the edge of his bunk and began to cry. Spike frowned. "Uh, Slayer, when I said you needed to be all weak-like, I didn't mean you had to start right this second."

"But you're right!" Buffy said, sniffling. "I'm weak, and I'm helpless, and my friends and family are out there at Glory's mercy. I can't do anything!"

"Welcome to the club, Slayer," Spike muttered.

Buffy looked up at him, confused for a moment before she realized what he meant. "Is this what it's like for you with the chip?"

"A bit, yeah. Going from the biggest and baddest on the block to not even being able to defend yourself takes a bit of, well, adjusting."

"I think I'm starting to see why you were so happy when you found out you could hurt demons." At the smirk Spike gave her, Buffy quickly added, "Not that I get off on violence the way you do."

"Sure you don't. You can't tell me that our old fights didn't get your motor running at least a little."

Her tears gone for the time being, Buffy rolled her eyes. "Ego much, Spike?"

Spike tapped his nose. "Vampire, luv. I always knew the effect I had on you."

"Ew!" Buffy replied trying her hardest—albeit unsuccessfully—not to blush. "Majorly gross—and also really, really delusional."

"Believe what you want, Slayer, but I'm not the one here with delusions."

Buffy held up her hand. "Can we not talk about this anymore? We have more important things to discuss than your twisted little fantasies. We need to get back out there and search the ship some more."

"We can't."

"What do you mean we can't? You said you'd help me!"

"I know what I said, and I still plan to make good on that. But short an' smelly thinks I'm in here making with the debauchery."

"So?"

"So, if he sees us wandering the ship again, it'll blow our cover."

"But you're the captain! Can't you just do whatever you want?"

"Buffy," Spike said, obviously frustrated, "acting suspiciously will only make this whole thing more difficult. We have no sodding clue what's going on here. I think it's safe to say it has something to do with that book, but we don't know who put it in the shop or why. And as far as this place goes, we don't know who any of these people are. Sure, some of them look like your friends, but they don't seem to be aware that anything's wrong like we do. They could just look the way they do in order to lull us into a false sense of security. We really can't push against the flow right now. We need to play along, at least until we figure a bit more out."

"Oh my god. I'm an emotional mess, and you're making sense. This is hell. That's what happened—that book was a portal to a hell dimension." Buffy frowned. "I wonder if this one has shrimp…"

"Shrimp? What are you… Never mind. And I don't think this is a hell dimension. If it was, there'd probably be little demons eating our livers or something."

"Hell dimension or now, I don't like it."

"Buffy, we'll get out of here, and Dawn will be fine."

"How come I don't feel at all confident about that?"

"Because you're the most pessimistic person in the world despite the fact you always win?"

"Hey!"

"That wasn't really an insult, you know. Not all of it, anyway."

"It still wasn't all that nice." Buffy yawned.

"Tired, Slayer?"

"No." She yawned again. "Okay, maybe a little."

"We probably should get some rest. Keep our strength up. Lie down and scoot over."

Buffy eyes widened when she realized what he meant. "We are not both sleeping here, Spike."

"What? You can't very well go back to your cabin—debauchery cover, remember?"

"Well, you're not sleeping here."

"Where am I supposed to sleep then?"

Buffy pointed to a wooden chair across the room. "There."

"No bloody way. That think looks more uncomfortable than those damn sarcophaguses in my crypt."

"We are not sharing a bed."

"Oh, grow up. I'm not going to try anything. There's enough room in the bed, and there's no reason not to just be adults about the whole thing."

Buffy frowned. "Fine. But you try anything, and I swear you're dust as soon as we get back to Sunnydale."

"And oh, that just makes me want to help you even more. Lie down, Slayer."

Buffy grumbled, lying down and scooting as close to the wall as she could. Spike joined her, closing his eyes without as much as giving her a glance. He tried to sleep, but every few seconds, Buffy shifted. Finally, he opened his eyes again, sighing heavily. "What's wrong?"

"It's this dress. I can't sleep in it."

"You were sleeping just fine in it earlier this evening."

"Well now I can't!"

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered, getting up. He went over to a chest, dug around for a bit, then tossed a long shirt to Buffy. "Here, sleepin in this."

"But it's your shirt."

"You are the most difficult…" Spike's jaw clenched. "Buffy, we've been here for a day. I've never worn the sodding shirt. Put it on."

"Turn around." Spike did as she said, rolling his eyes skyward as he did. A few moments later, he heard Buffy say his name. "What now?"

"I, um, can't get out of this dress."

"Are you going to threaten me for helping you out of it?"

"Um…no. But again, if you try anything…"

"We get back to Sunnydale, and I fit in an ashtray. I've got it. Come here."

Buffy walked over to Spike, turning her back to him nervously. Spike sucked in a deep breath, trying to undress her with as much detachment as he could. It wouldn't do for him to react to Buffy now when he couldn't do anything about it. "Arms up, pet," he said.

"Why?"

"So I can lift the dress over your head," Spike replied, his tone exasperated.

"Oh, right." Buffy lifted her arms, and Spike pulled the dress up. He swallowed at the sight of her bare back. "Can you get the rest of it off then?"

"Yeah. Turn back around."

Spike nodded and turned around, wishing more than anything that he had access to a cold shower. Maybe he would go for a swim in those possibly-shark-infested waters. He heard the bed creak, and a moment later Buffy said, "I'm decent."

Spike nodded, this time taking off his boots and belt before joining her on the bed. "I really hate these clothes," he said.

"I don't know, I think they suit you," Buffy said with a giggle. "And at least you don't have to wear a corset and five million skirts. Walking has been a chore."

"You just be thankful you don't have one of those gigantic wigs to go with them."

"Ugh. I think my neck would break off." Spike chuckled softly, and Buffy glanced over at him. She knew it should be weird, sharing a bed with him, but despite her earlier protests, it really wasn't so bad. And he was—surprisingly—being a gentleman about it. He hadn't even copped a feel when he was helping her out of her dress. "Thank you."

"For what? Taking off your clothes, cause…"

"Stop right there. You were being halfway decent, and finishing that sentence will so ruin that. But I meant thank you for, well, helping me instead of killing me."

"Might need you to get out of here. Just watching my own back, Slayer."

"But you didn't want to leave."

"I could eventually."

Buffy regarded him for a moment in the dim light. For some reason, that answer didn't ring true to her, despite the fact that she knew that should logically be the only reason Spike would bother to help her instead of killing her like he'd always wanted to. "Well, um, thank you anyway," she said.

"You really should get some sleep. Who knows what we'll have to face tomorrow."

"Yeah. Good night, Spike."

"'Night, Slayer."

*** *** ***

Just so you know, even if there are breaks between posts, I haven't abandoned any of my stories. Classes have started again, and I have a really full schedule. I will try to post as often as I can, however, hopefully at least once a week for any story I'm currently working on. I'll do more if I can, but I can't make any promises. I have five classes and work, and some of my days go literally from 8 am until 7 pm.

Review please!





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