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Angelus took Buffy to his cabin and threw her on his bed. She sat up, moving as far away from him as the confined space would allow. "Please, don't do this," she begged him, cowering as she spoke. "Please."

Angelus grinned. "Ye just keep beggin' me, sweet thing. Only makes me want ye more."

"But I'm a lady of the highest reputation! You cannot possibly sully my virtue in such a fashion!"

"I'm a scoundrel—sullyin' the virtue of ladies is what I do."

"Please," Buffy sobbed. "My lord Admiral Finn will surely see you sent to the gallows if he finds you've done such a thing!"

Angelus shrugged. "I'll tell him it was William. Besides, once I'm done with ye, ye won't be makin' much sense anymore anyway." Angelus reached out, twirling a strand of Buffy's hair between his fingers. "Ye ever seen a woman after a man's broken her completely?"

Buffy whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks. This couldn't be happening to her. She was Lady Elizabeth Summers, daughter of… Wait… Buffy blinked. She wasn't Lady anything, and she was not one for the damseling. She was Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer. She struck out, her foot landing squarely between the juncture of Angelus's legs. He doubled over in pain, and Buffy jumped up, her eyes scanning the room in search of a weapon. She may have been powerless, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. She'd defeated Kralik without her strength, after all, and he had been more than some slimy, nasty pirate with a bad mustache.

Angelus groaned from where he was crumpled on the floor. "Stupid little bitch! Ye'll wish ye hadn't done that."

Buffy said nothing, instead responding by grabbing a bottle from beside the bed and smashing it over his head. Angelus slumped, unconscious. Buffy knelt beside him, searching his pockets until she found the key to Spike's cell. She kicked Angelus one more time for good measure, then left the cabin, careful not to be spotted as she made her way back to Spike.

The look on Spike's face when Buffy walked through the door was one of pure, unadulterated relief—and that was before she held up the key that represented his freedom. She ran over to the cell, unlocking it and letting Spike out. He immediately pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Buffy…I was so worried…"

"I'm all right," Buffy said reassuringly, letting herself return his embrace. "He didn't lay a finger on me."

Spike pulled back, although his hands were still resting on her hips. He couldn't stand to let her go, not after what he'd felt watching Angelus drag her away. "What did happen?"

"I kicked him in the groin and then smashed a bottle over his head."

Spike grinned. "Good girl."

"I was rather proud of myself. But now we really need to get out of here."

"No complaints from me about that plan, luv."

"But I may have a wee complaint or two."

Spike and Buffy spun around to see Angelus standing in the doorway, blood dripping down his face from where Buffy had hit him with the bottle. Spike moved Buffy behind him, trying to shield her with his body. "I won't let you hurt her, Angelus."

"Lookit poor William, always trying to play the hero and protect the lassies. Think this time it'll work any better than it did with Drusilla?"

Spike snarled as more of "his" past with the man before him became clear. "You murdered Dru."

"Yes, that I did. And it was worth it, too, if not just for the look it put on yer face, ye poor, pathetic bastard."

Spike could feel Buffy's fingers digging into his arm as she clung to him, and he knew she was afraid. "Again, you're not hurting this one. I'd die before I'd let you touch her."

"Sounds like a deal to me," Angelus said before charging at them, sword drawn. Spike jumped out of the way, taking Buffy with him. He was a second too late, and the sword grazed his side. Spike hissed in pain, but didn't let himself falter. All that mattered now was Buffy's safety. He moved quickly, managing to knock Angelus down. Before the larger man could get back to his feet, Spike took Buffy by the hand, running with her back up to the deck.

Angelus's crew had become aware of the escape attempt, and had gathered on the deck, moving towards Spike and Buffy. "Stop them!" Angelus bellowed as he staggered up the stairs.

As the pirates began to close in on them, Spike looked around for something to inspire a plan. She saw what he needed over his left shoulder. "Hold on tight, pet," he told Buffy before grabbing her by the waist, trying not to wince as her arms wrapped around him and grazed his wounded side. Without another word, he leapt over the side of the boat, taking Buffy with him.

The pirates glanced around and over towards the water, looking confused. "Should we go after 'em, captain?" one asked.

"No point," Angelus replied. "They're as good as dead anyway. With William's side bleedin' like it was, they'll probably be eaten by sharks." Angelus grinned to himself, certain that that was the last he'd seen of William the Bloody. It figured the idiot would leap to his own death. "Now back to work, all of ye!"

As Angelus's crew scrambled to comply with his orders, the pirate stomped off towards his cabin, deciding on a story to tell Admiral Finn that wouldn't cost him his own neck.

*** *** ***

"One of these books is missing," Anya announced to the group in the Magic Box as Willow and Tara prepared to perform the locator spell. "I ordered fifteen, but there are only fourteen here."

"Anya, Buffy is missing—and quite possibly in some sort of mortal peril involving Spike," Xander snapped at his girlfriend. "Now is not the time to be taking inventory."

"But…"

"We're ready to do the spell," Willow said, cutting Anya off. "I need everyone to be quiet."

Anya crossed her arms over her chest. She really hated it when no one would listen to her.

*** *** ***

Spike wasn't sure how he managed to bring himself and Buffy to the island safely without a hitch. The water was cold and choppy, and his side was still bleeding freely. Then he remembered that technically, he was stuck inside of a story, and decided to attribute it to the miracles of fiction.

From beside him, Buffy coughed. He could see her shivering in the pale moonlight, and pulled her to him. "I know I'm cold and wet, too, luv, but at least I actually have some body heat to share."

Buffy nodded, her teeth chattering. She looked down and gasped at the large, red stain on Spike's shirt. "You're bleeding!"

"It's not bad. Angelus just grazed me is all."

"Let me look at it." Before Spike could protest, Buffy was pulling off his wet shirt to inspect his wound. He hissed when her fingers grazed it.

"What's the prognosis, doc?" he asked, trying to sound anything but nervous.

"You'll live," Buffy said with a wry smile. "The bleeding seems to be slowing down, and it isn't very deep." She picked up his shirt, wringing it out before tearing off long strips of fabric. She used a wad of the cloth to staunch the wound, then wrapped the longer pieces around him to form a make-shift bandage. "At least my Slayer first-aid skills didn't go away with my strength," she said once she had him all patched up.

"Thank you."

"It was the least I could do for the man who just saved my life."

"You did a bit of the saving, too, pet. Couldn't have done much from inside that cage."

Buffy smiled. "Guess we make a good team, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess we do." Even if she was sporting the drowned-rat look, Spike thought the woman in front of him was absolutely breathtaking. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, make love to her on this beach. He got to his feet, wincing as his side protested the movement. "I should find wood for a fire. It'll help us warm up."

Buffy frowned in disappointment as Spike walked away from her. But he was right—they did need a fire. She stood up, going after him. "I'll help you."

Spike nodded and walked with Buffy into the woods.

*** *** ***

Buffy stared into the fire, resting her head against Spike's shoulder. He had his arms around her, both of them comfortable with the pretense that their closeness was merely for warmth. Although they both wondered what they were going to do now, neither vocalized the question. There was no reason to, since they knew there was no answer to give.

"You know, as strange as this might sound, I can think of worse people to be stuck on a deserted island with," Buffy said, breaking the silence.

Spike refrained from telling her there was no one he'd rather be on the island with. "True. You could be here with Harris."

"Oh god, I can just imagine the amount of whining Xander would be doing right now—if he'd even managed to get this far." Buffy frowned. "What does that say that I'd rather be here with my mortal enemy than one of my best friends?"

"That your 'best friend' is damn irritating, and I'm bloody good company, whether you want to admit it or not. Besides, I think our relationship has been downgraded from 'mortal enemy' status. At the very least we…share a bond of mutual annoyance."

Buffy chuckled. "You certainly haven't been acting like my mortal enemy—or even the pain in my ass you've been since you got that chip. Just the opposite, really. Hell, you got yourself stabbed for me."

It could've been simply a trick of the firelight, but Buffy could've sworn she saw Spike blush. "It wasn't that big of a deal. Didn't even incapacitate me. I was still able to swim to this island and everything."

"Still… It was very brave of you, Captain. Were it not for you and your daring, I would still be at the mercy of that cruel brigand. I owe you my life, William."

"I could do nothing but fight for you, fair Elizabeth. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I have been bewitched. You've managed to weave your spell around me, my beauty, making me wish to be nothing more than your willing slave."

"Oh William, I…" Buffy stopped, pulling away from him. "What the hell are we saying? And my god, are my breasts actually heaving?"

Spike glanced down. "Uh, yeah. They are a little."

"Stop staring at my boobs, Spike."

Spike held up his hands in self-defense. "You're the one who pointed them out, Slayer."

Buffy frowned. "We need to get out of here before I slip into a total repeat of Halloween '97 and start hollering about the 'man with the musket.'"

"Your hair's not brown," Spike pointed out.

"Oh, well, that's ever so comforting," Buffy replied sarcastically.

"Look, why don't we just get some rest? Maybe we'll be able to suss things out in the morning."

"Or we could be eaten by rabid land sharks in our sleep," Buffy muttered.

"Doubt it. Land sharks aren't warm-blooded, so they can't contract rabies. Besides, they're also demons, and it doesn't seem like this place is very demony."

Buffy stared at Spike. "Are you telling me 'land sharks' are real?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I've never seen one knock on a door and yell 'candygram,' but they're real enough. Although if I were you, I'd be more worried about wild boars, or something of the sort."

Buffy's eyes widened. "Wild… Spike, that's really not making me feel any better."

Spike reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Don't worry, kitten. You've got me to protect you."

Buffy frowned. That did make her feel better, and she still wasn't completely comfortable with that concept, despite what "Lady Elizabeth's" thoughts may have been on the matter. "Fine, let's sleep," she said. "And preferably manage to avoid the wild boars and the land sharks."

Spike lay down in the sand, putting his arm behind his head. "Come here, luv. No point in both of us getting all sandy."

"My hair's already pretty icky as it is," Buffy said in token protest before lying down at his side, her head resting on his chest. Spike wrapped his free arm around her waist, and she closed her eyes, letting the roll of the ocean and the beat of his heart lull her to sleep.

*** *** ***

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