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The Game - The Shadows Breathe -- by Saber ShadowKitten

Rating: NC-17

Description: Buffy and Spike get wrapped up in another game.

Note: Lyrics and title from The Cure.

Disclaimer: This author does not claim to own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Buffy stepped into the small terminal and took a deep breath of the stale airport air. The bustle of travelers around her was painful to ears that had gotten use to the peaceful noises of the jungle, and she slowly walked further into the waiting area. She was home.

Then why didn't she feel happy about it?

Shoving her bandaged hands in the pockets, she pulled the soft coat closer to her body. This time, when she took a deep breath, she bent her head to inhale the scent of the old leather. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could also smell the earthy maleness of him.

"Buffy?"

Buffy heard her name being called. She opened her eyes to see Giles heading for her in the surprisingly crowded terminal. She forced herself to put on a smile, even if it was a false one. "Hi, Giles."

The tweed clad librarian looked like he wanted to embrace her, but held back, choosing to survey her from head to toe instead. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Can we go now?"

"Certainly," Giles said, leading her out of the airport to his old, decrepit car. He watched his young ward out of the corner of his eye, taking note of her slumped shoulders and the heaviness of her steps under the long duster. He frowned as something tickled his mind about the coat. He hadn't seen her wear it before, but it looked awfully familiar.

They arrived at his car and he pushed the errant thoughts away. "Would you like me to take you home or somewhere else?"

"I could use some food," Buffy answered absently, staring out the window at the passing scenery. "I haven't eaten since before we climbed the cliff."

"Cliff?"

"Huh?" Buffy asked, turning her attention to him.

"You said something about a-a cliff?" Giles prompted.

"Yeah, that was, I guess two nights ago. Maybe three. I'm not sure how long we were on the plane. The tape said we were to land in Brazil at 2100 hours and I know we left wherever the hell we were while it was still dark..."

Giles listened to Buffy ramble on, his mind turning over the fact that she kept saying 'we.' The he noticed her bandages as she gestured. "Good Lord, Buffy," he interrupted. "What happened to your hands?"

She held up the two thick, white bandaged appendages. "Cliff," she answered simply. "And before you ask, there's a McDonalds. Food, then library. I only want to tell this story once and I have a feeling Willow, Oz and Xander are all there waiting."

Giles smiled. "Of course. They're always underfoot."

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed as the Slayer and Giles entered the library. She jumped up to give her best friend a hug. "You're ok! And you're wearing a great leather coat. Oh, your hands! You're not ok. Are you ok?"

"Willow, I'm fine," Buffy stopped the red head's excited chatter. "Hi, guys."

"Buffy, glad to see you're alive and walking," Oz greeted.

"As opposed to dead and walking, which we've already seen enough of," Xander said, giving her a quick hug. "So, you gonna tell us where you've been for the past week, young lady?"

"Has it only been a week?" Buffy asked, sliding into a chair. She yawned, covering her mouth with one bandaged hand. "Sorry. I've been keeping vampire hours. And the plane rides were really long."

"How many times did you change planes?" Willow asked.

"Twice. Although I don't remember the first changeover, considering I was asleep. But waking up in first class was kinda nice."

"Time out here," Xander said. "How can you change planes without knowing?"

"Oh, my...er..." What was she going to say? Lover? Friend? Mortal enemy? "...Travel companion carried me, I guess. I wouldn't really know, seeing as how I was asleep."

"Before we get into any more questions," Giles said as Xander opened his mouth to do that very thing. "Why don't we allow Buffy to explain what happened from the beginning."

All eyes turned to the Slayer, who shifted in her seat, bringing the duster closer around her petite form. "From the beginning, right. Well, you guys remember that dude who was following me around? I decided to follow him for a change. And before you say anything, Giles, I know it was a dumb thing to do."

Buffy laid her hand on the table, the fluorescent lighting bouncing off the stark white bandages. "To make a long story short, he caught me, injected me with some sort of drug and I woke up in the middle of a jungle in a crate. Turns out I was 'selected' to participate in some sick-o survivalist game. We found out later that bets were placed on who the winner would be, like dogs or horses, only they were gambling on our lives," she said.

"Basically, after that, it was a lot of walking with a few fights against other players thrown in. Which reminds me, I saw some really weird dudes that you'll have to look up, Giles. One was a moss-man. He kinda looked like that guy on the show 'Swamp Thing.' The others were a pair of red skinned creatures with horns and scorpion-like tails. Way wiggy."

She looked down at her bandages. "Anyway, I got scraped up pretty badly scaling a cliff. My right hand should be fine by tomorrow, but my left one is going to take awhile to heal. Seeing the bones in your hand is not something I'd put on my top ten list of things to do."

Willow paled as she pictured what Buffy just said. "Who bandaged your hands?"

A smile played on Buffy's lips as she remembered the gentle way Spike had cleaned and wrapped her injuries, the way he kissed her fingertips when he'd finished, the small smile he gave her. "My...uh, partner," she answered. "All the players had partners."

"Who was your partner?" Willow asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Buffy replied cryptically. "Any questions? Because I'd really like to go home and shower. Plus, my mom is probably having a worry-fest waiting for me."

"Do you know who your captors were?" Giles asked.

"Nope," she said. "And that's something I want to find out, too, so I can hunt them down and beat them senseless."

Spike lay in his bed, hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to set. Music was blaring from the stolen stereo, echoing off the walls. Normally, he'd be pacing in his room or terrorizing his minions as he waited, but for some reason, he just wanted to lay still and think. Think about what had happened, think about his life in general, think about her.

Every night I fall

Every night I call your name

Every night I fall

Every night I fall again

When he had sauntered into the boarded up house where he'd made his home two nights before, the minions pretty much freaked at his appearance. None of them had been bold enough to ask about his change in clothing, but all their eyes had widened so far, Spike had thought they'd pop right out of their empty heads.

Of course, the new leather bomber jacket was no where near as comfortable as his duster had been. He couldn't believe that he'd given it up. That was, until he pictured who he'd given it to.

Every night I fall

Every night I scream your name

Every night I fall

Every night the dream's the same

He smiled at the memory of her standing in the firelight that first night, looking all powerful and feminine. Then, his mind flitted to what she looked like lying naked on the soft material. He closed his eyes, remembering the way she felt, the way she tasted, her warmth surrounding him as they made love.

And it was making love. Spike had given everything to her that first time, holding none of his tightly controlled emotions in check. It was as if all the time they had spent fighting the year before was building up to that very moment, almost like foreplay. Behind his eyelids, he could see the burning desire in her eyes for him, her need reflecting his own. When they finally joined together, he felt as though he touched heaven, and knew that nothing would ever hold a candle to the sensations she evoked, to the completeness that he had felt.

Every night I fall

Every night I scream the animal scream

Every night I fall

Every night the dreams call my dream

But that was neither here, nor there. He was still a vampire. She, the Slayer. Off of that island, they had no choice but to go back to being mortal enemies. With that depressing thought, Spike got up out of bed, his hyperactiveness slamming into him ten fold and he went to exorcise some demons - both external and internal.

The lighter flared up under his face as the man turned around the corner, bathing him in its orangish glow as he touched the flame to his cigarette. Inhaling the smoke, Spike smiled evilly as the man came closer, his barely controlled energy bubbling under his skin at the thought of the hunt. As the man went to pass, the blond vampire stepped in his path. "Word has it that you're the man to see if you're looking for a certain...something," Spike said in a low voice.

The man narrowed his eyes, looking up at Spike in the darkness. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I think you do. All men have vices," Spike said. "And yours happens to be little boys."

"What, are you a cop or somethin'?" the man asked, slight panic in his voice.

"No," he replied, letting his game face come forth. "I'm your executioner." Spike laughed out loud when the man turned tail and ran. He counted to ten, then took off after him, pouring his excess energy into the long, drawn out game.

He caught and drained the man right outside of his door, his hand still on the key in the lock.

Three weeks later, Spike couldn't take it anymore. He had to have some contact with Buffy, any contact, before he went out of his mind. Everywhere he looked, he thought he saw her, though he heard her laugh. His dreams alternated between tender and erotic with her as the star, leaving him to wake wanting to touch her, to hold her, to feel her fire. His minions all fled each time he came into the room, fearing for their undead lives at his short temper. Even Drusilla, who'd been trying to get back into his life, avoided him like the sun. He couldn't sit still for more than five minutes at a time except to sleep, but that only lasted for a few hours before he was awake and aching for her.

That night, he went shopping.

"Buffy? Could you come here for a minute?" Willow asked from her position in front of the computer.

"Sure, Will," Buffy said, stopping the punching bag from her last swing. Three weeks had passed and her left hand was healing nicely, but there was a hole in her heart that grew bigger with each passing day. She hated the feeling, but knew it was there to stay, because she could never be with the man who created it. "What's up?"

"This E-mail message is for you," the hacker said, moving over so Buffy could read the screen. "See the subject line?"

"'Please 'give' to Buffy Summers,'" Buffy read out loud. She looked further down the screen. "Where's the message?"

"It's an attachment," Willow told her. "I didn't want to open it because the contents might be private. All you have to do is double click on the paperclip icon."

"Thanks," she replied, doing as instructed.

As the sun comes up in the sky

I think of you and smile

So far away, yet so near

In my mind

I touch you

I taste you

I feel your heart, beating for me

"Willow," Buffy breathed. "Read this."

Willow looked over at the screen her eyes rapidly scanning the text. "I think you have a secret admirer," she said, grinning widely.

"Should I reply?" Buffy asked, her right hand hovering over the keys, her heart pounding in excitement for the first time in two weeks. "What would I say?"

"I don't know, Buffy," the red head replied. "That's up to you."

Buffy clicked on the reply to sender button and started pecking at the keys.

To: nightwalker@aol.com

From: littletree @aol.com

Subject: [Re:] Please 'give' to Buffy Summers

Hello whoever sent this. It was very nice. Do I know you?

BS

"Buffy, you got a reply!" Willow said excitedly, moving so her best friend could take her place again later that night.

"Already?" Buffy said, sliding into the chair. She opened another attachment.

I would say you know me

very well

I would say you know me

not at all

I would say you know me

but it's the surface

I would say you know me

but there is so much more

Do you want to know me?

I know you

I know your smile

I know your laugh

I know your softness

I know your strength

I know your tenderness

I know your fire

Yet, I don't know you

I don't know

your deepest fears

I don't know

your favorite color

I don't know

if you cry

when you hear a sad song

I don't know

if you like to swing

I would like to see you swing

see your hair flying behind you

as you climbed higher and higher

laughing with delight

Do you want me to know you?

"Be still my heart," Buffy said, slumping back into the chair, breathless once again. "This guy sure knows how to write. Too bad we can't talk directly."

"You can," Willow said. "See if he has an ICQ number."

"A what?"

"ICQ. It's instant messaging or you can create your own chat room. Kinda like talking on the phone, but you have to type instead," Willow explained.

"And you have one of these?" Buffy asked.

"Yup. Go ahead and type your message," she instructed. "Now put ICQ#13316251 at the bottom. That's my number."

"Here he is!" Willow squealed, quickly double clicking on the small message icon at the bottom of the laptop screen. The two girls had moved to the Slayer's house, where Willow was waiting for Oz to pick her up. "He wants to know if you want to chat." At Buffy's huge smile, the hacker giggled. "I'll take that as a yes." She accepted the chat request, then moved once more. "You're in. All you have to do it type."

"Hey, Buffy," Oz said, entering the bedroom. "Willow, are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Willow replied. "Buffy, when you want to quit, just hit the 'x' at the top of the screen, then log me out."

"Thanks, Wills," Buffy said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," Willow said, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Buffy turned her attention to the screen, where her secret admirer was waiting for her to respond to his greeting.

Hello

Hi!

I was pleasantly surprised when I received your ICQ. Or rather, Willow's.

She suggested it. That I send it, I mean.

*laughs*

How are your hands?

How did you know I hurt my hands?

How do you think?

Oh, well. I guess for you to be an admirer, you can see me.

You can't see me right now, can you?

*laughs*

I wish.

I can see you in my mind, though.

You are so utterly delectable.

*blushes*

Do I know you? I mean, personally, as in, have we met before?

Yes.

Just yes. No 'I'm so and so'?

Who was the last person you loved?

Woah. Nice non sequitur. And it's none of your business.

I only wanted to know who my competition was.

You will never be able to compete against him.

Really?

Yep.

How do you know?

Because even though I'm talking...er,

writing to you now, it doesn't mean I'm interested

in more than figuring out who you are.

Describe him.

Who?

Fonzie. Who do you think I mean?

Oh, sorry.

Why do you want to know?

He's still my competition.

Can't you read?

Humor me.

Fine. He's perfect.

No one is perfect.

He is for me.

Is he your boyfriend?

No.

Well, then, if he's so perfect, why aren't you two together?

Because we can't be.

Why?

It's...complicated. Too many obstacles.

Have you tried?

Tried what?

To be together.

We can't, so it doesn't matter.

And yet your heart is still for him.

Yes.

I don't know whether to be sad for you

or happy for him to have your love.

Depressing much?

Does he return your love?

I wish.

You know, if you tell me who he is, I can find out for you.

Ain't gonna work, buster.

*laughs*

I tried.

Besides, you'd have a long way to go to be able to talk to him.

Why's that?

He's kinda not here.

Where is he, then?

I don't know.

That makes it easier on me if the competition isn't even around.

Listen, whoever you are, I don't want to play this game

I am in love with someone else

and whether he returns my love or not

doesn't change how I feel about him!

He is perfect - tender, caring, sweet, with the most beautiful blue eyes

I thought they were brown?

What?

Nothing.

No, I can read what you said. What made you think he had brown eyes?

Hello?

Are you still there?

Sorry.

What happened?

Buffy, who do you love?

Why should I tell you?

WILL YOU JUST ANSWER THE BLOODY QUESTION!

Who is this?

Who is this!

Fine. I'm out of here. DON'T contact me again.

It's me, Slayer.

Buffy's heart dropped to her feet when she read the last line. "It can't be," she whispered, her hand lightly resting on the keyboard. She looked over at the leather duster lying across her chair. A day had yet to go by when she didn't wear it, just to feel close to him. With nervous fingers, she began to type once again.

Spike?

The one and only.

But...how...why???

I wanted to talk to you, pet.

I actually miss you.

Bloody ridiculous if you ask me.

Well, then count me among the ridiculed.

*laughs*

I didn't know you could use a computer.

I'm a vampire, luv, not an idiot.

Sorry. My bad.

How are your hands?

Getting better. It still hurts when I make a fist, though.

Must make it tough to fight.

Sometimes.

Why didn't you wake me?

I hate good-byes.

Oh.

I hate this even more.

Talking to me?

No! I meant you being in Sunnyhell and me being down here.

Are you still in Brazil?

Yes.

Would you...

Yes, pet?

Would you ever come back?

I think that could be arranged.

If you really wanted me to come back, that is.

But if you came back, we'd be enemies.

We could never be enemies, luv.

I would have to slay you if you fed.

What if I didn't kill them?

Can you do that?

Of course. It's just not as much fun.

Would you?

Not kill anyone or come back?

Both.

Yes.

Really?

No, I'm lying just to get into your pants. Of course, really.

That's not funny.

Sorry.

So, how long will it take you to get here?

A week. Maybe more.

Oh.

You never answered my question.

Which one?

Who do you love?

Who do *you* love?

I asked you first.

Well, I'm the Slayer.

See me shaking.

*laughs*

I have to go, luv. There's a lot of yelling going on in the other room.

Have to crack some skulls.

Then I guess I'll see you when you get here.

Count on it.

Well, bye.

Bye, Slayer.

One more thing - how's my duster?

Warm, soft and leathery.

*sighs*

I miss that coat.

Then why did you leave it with me?

You already know the answer to that, Buffy.

-Leaves-

Buffy logged off the computer and closed the laptop, then grabbed the leather duster from the chair. She hugged the soft material to her and laughed. Spike wanted to see her, wanted to be with her, and quite possibly loved her as much as she loved him.

It had been the longest week of her life. The hours stretched on for eternity, the nights were spent sleeplessly waiting. The anticipation was making her both excited and draining her.

Buffy looked over at the clock for the tenth time that hour and sighed. The eighth day of waiting had passed the night before and still no Spike. *Well, he did say it may take more than a week,* she thought, watching the second hand as it circled the clock. *Besides, sunset isn't for another twenty-two minutes and thirty-thirty eight seconds.*

"Buffy?" Giles said, frowning at her. "Are you paying attention?"

"Who me? I'm attention girl," Buffy said, pulling her gaze away from the clock. "See my enthusiasm?"

"Yes, well, you are acting as if you can't wait to-to leave," Giles informed her. "Granted, this is exercise isn't that exciting, but it is necessary to..."

"To hone my skills as the Slayer, yada, yada, yada," she finished for him. "But didn't we already do this one. I think I remember quite clearly hitting you with a dodge ball."

"This time, I want you to traverse this room," Giles said, putting a thick scarf over her eyes. "You never know when you may have to-to fight blind, as it were."

"Maybe I should start carrying a candle and lighter along with my stakes," she joked as the Watcher moved chairs and other obstacles in the library.

"Perhaps," Giles replied. He walked and stood by the doors. "Alright Buffy, come to me."

Spike didn't think his smile could get any wider until he saw the sign. With a chuckle, he plowed right into it. "Thanks for the welcome," he said out loud, then backed up and continued on his way, leaving the Welcome to Sunnydale sign flat on the ground once again.

"No, Willow, Xander," Buffy was practically on her knees begging. "You don't have to come with me on patrol."

"But it will be fun," Xander insisted. "We haven't done any group outings in weeks, and I for one am all for the bondage time."

"Don't you mean 'bonding'?" Willow asked. Xander smiled wickedly at her.

The three friends were walking towards the park. Buffy had almost escaped from the library when her two best friends showed up, wanting to help with patrol. "Isn't the Bronze having no cover tonight?" she brought up, hoping it was true.

"Nope," Willow said. "And the Dingo's have practice tonight, so I'm free."

"Swell," Buffy said, forlornly. She took a deep breath and sighed. *Maybe he won't show up tonight, anyway,* she thought, hands in the pockets of the long, leather duster she'd taken to wearing the past week on patrol, despite the warm weather.

The trio entered the park and began the rounds, chatting aimlessly about school, the Bronze and other harmless topics, waiting for the vampires to attack. They didn't have to wait long. Two of them came out of the bushes and were instantly on the friends.

Buffy lashed out with her sneaker clad foot, catching one vamp across the chest, followed by a spinning back kick to the face. She blocked his clumsy swings, retaliating with hard punches of her own before whipping out a stake and plunging it home. Turning, she saw Xander and Willow holding their own against the second vamp. Silently, she crept up behind the demon and slammed her stake into his back.

"Well, that was fun," Buffy commented, looking at the pile of dust on the ground.

Xander was about to say something when Willow's cry interrupted him. "Buffy, behind you!"

Buffy spun, dropping into a fighting stance, ready to block whatever attack was about to come. Only it didn't. Her eyes widened as she took a good look at the vampire who'd been haunting her for the past month, noting the brown, leather bomber jacket, the blue jeans and the faded T-shirt. Or, more specifically, the faded Guns 'N Roses T-shirt. She started to chuckle, coming out of her fighting stance as her chuckle turned into a side clutching laugh.

"Uh, Buffy?" Xander said, warily eyeing the blond vampire from behind his laughing friend. "I don't think it's a good thing to laugh at Spike."

Willow grabbed the other teen's sleeve as her eyes shot back and forth between Buffy and Spike. "Xander, the coat! The one we couldn't figure out why it looked so familiar. It's Spike's! She's wearing Spike's coat!"

"Where did you get that shirt?" Buffy finally managed to get out, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Spike held the hem of the shirt and stretched it out in front of him, looking down at it. "This old thing? Had it in my closet for years."

"Liar," she giggled. "You only had one set of clothing over fifty years, remember?"

"Did not," Spike said, half grin on his face. "I had that duster for fifty years. It looks like you've been takin' good care of it."

"Aw, does wittle Willy miss his coat?" Buffy replied, smiling broadly at the memory of the last time she said the same thing.

"Don't call me that," Spike said, his smile growing wider.

"What? Little or Willy?" Buffy completed.

Spike growled playfully, then opened his arms. "Come 'ere."

Xander and Willow stood immobilized as Buffy practically launched herself into Spike's embrace. "Xander? Why is Buffy hugging Spike?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Xander replied, snapping out of his petrified amazement. He was about to say something to the Slayer when all hell broke loose.

Spike tilted Buffy's chin up to look into her eyes, then lowered his head to claim her lips in a kiss. Suddenly, he felt a sharp stinging in his neck and brought his hand up to find a small dart embedded in the skin. Buffy's wide eyed gasp and the similar dart protruding from her neck were the last things he saw before all went dark.

"GILES!" Xander yelled as he and Willow tore into the library.

"Good heavens, Xander, what is it?" Giles asked, practically running from his office.

"It's Buffy. She's been taken by some guys with guns," Xander explained quickly.

"Spike, too," Willow added.

"What? I'm not sure I-I-I follow," Giles said. "You say Buffy was abducted by gunpoint?"

"Spike, too," Willow repeated, her eyes wide and fearful.

"Yeah, G-man, that's another thing," Xander said. "Buffy and Spike were hugging like long lost friends. Or lovers."

"Her secret admirer. And the coat! The coat she has is Spike's!" Willow exclaimed.

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing the hacker was correct and that was why the coat looked so familiar, but could not be placed. Spike must have been her partner on the island. Which means... "Oh, dear," he said, replacing his glasses. "I wonder if these are the same abductors as before. Explain to me exactly what transpired."

"Well, we dusted two vamps," Xander explained. "Then Spike came out of nowhere wearing way different clothes. Buffy started to laugh, then they hugged, then grabbed their necks and fell to the ground. Then the big men with guns came out of the bushes and grabbed them."

"This is where they were taken from," Willow said, leading Giles into the park.

Giles knelt on the ground and began running his hands over the grass. With a shrug, Xander and Willow both did the same. "So, what are we looking for? Lose change? Worms?" Xander asked.

"This," Giles said, holding up a small dart with small, red tail feathers. He was careful not to touch the needle end.

"I got one, too," Willow said, holding up a similar dart, with green feathers instead of red.

"And I found this," Xander said, showing the other two what looked like a small coin or charm. It was about the size of a penny, dark brown in color, and had two symbols on it - a right facing triangle centered on a line and a simple bow tie minus its right side.

"Willow, do you still have that list of potential, er...associations of high stakes games?" Giles asked as they climbed to their feet.

"It's in my locker," Willow confirmed.

"Looks like it's back to the bat cave," Xander quipped.

"Spike?" Buffy said, looking around in vain. Wherever she was, it was pitch black, damp and chilly. She brought a hand up and rubbed her neck where the sharp sting had pierced her skin, then closed her eyes and thanked Giles in his infinite wisdom. She closed her eyes and honed.

Crawling on the hard, rocky floor to her left, she found the blond vampire laying in a heap. At least, she hoped it was the blond vampire, and not a different one. "Spike?" Buffy called, shaking him.

"Stop your bloody shaking before my head comes off."

*Definitely Spike,* she thought with relief. "Are you ok?"

Spike opened his eyes and saw nothing. Panicking slightly, he responded to her question. "I can't see anything."

"Neither can I," Buffy replied. "I think we're in a cave or something."

Closing his eyes, he let his game face come forth and extended his own senses. He could hear the sound of dripping water, the hardness of the rock under him, the moistness in the air. Opening his eyes, he let his features fall back to human and sighed. "I would say you're right, Slayer."

"Do you have your lighter on you?"

Spike nodded, then realized she couldn't see him and chuckled. "Of course, pet," he said, digging through his pocket. He flicked the familiar tab and a flame appeared, casting some light into the inky darkness. He looked up at her. "Well, hello, cutie. Long time, no see."

"Very funny," she said with a small smile on her face. "Have I ever told you how much I dislike you?"

"Why's that pet?"

"Bad things tend to happen when it comes to you," she replied.

He pushed himself to a sitting position, holding the lighter above their heads. "I seem to recall a few good things happening, too," he teased, before capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair and hold her to him. He didn't break away from her until he knew she needed to breathe. "I've been dying to do that for four bloody weeks."

"Uh, Spike? You're already dead," Buffy joked, breathlessly. He chuckled. Trying to compose herself, she peered at what she could see in the faint light from the lighter. "What's that on the ground next to you?"

Spike moved the lighter down by his side, the orange flame highlighting the smooth texture of the pile. "Bones," he said. "Human, I think."

Buffy shuddered. "Ugh."

The vampire leaned down for a closer inspection. "They've been here awhile, pet. See how the moisture has worn them smooth?" Spike said, moving the hand holding the lighter until he found the femur. "Take off your brassiere."

"What?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"Slayer, not that I'm not all for getting you naked and fucking you blind, but I was thinking more along the lines of using it to create a torch," Spike told her.

"But why my bra?" Buffy said, pulling one arm into her shirt and sliding the strap over it.

"The cloth is only going to last so long, pet and I don't fancy walking around here naked until we have to," he explained.

"Well, you're next," she replied, putting her hand up her left sleeve and pulling out the bra. He handed it to him, then giggled at the expression on his face in the dim light. "You were expecting a free show, weren't you?"

Wrapping the material around the bone, he set the flame to it and waited as it caught fire before answering her. "A vampire can only hope," he said with a grin. Holding the new torch aloft, he stuck the lighter back into the pocket of his blue jeans and surveyed where they were.

The walls of the cave were shiny with moisture, large stalactites dripping down onto the floor, creating rippled stalagmites that thrust from the earth like spires. The pile of bones turned into several piles scattered throughout the small enclosure, definitely human and almost all worn smooth with age. Off to the left was the only way out, beckoning to them, a black hole that could lead to anywhere. Lastly, a white envelope could be seen lying harmlessly in the middle of the rock floor.

"No, no, no, no, no," Buffy cried, reaching out for the envelope. "Not again." She opened it and pulled out the single, type-written sheet of paper. "Don't look, don't look, the shadows breathe..."

"The Cure," Spike said at her confusion over the words. He propped their make-shift torch in the eye socket of a skull, using a second one to keep it from tipping over.

Buffy nodded and continued reading. "The Game continues, Slayer. No competition, just you and your partner, pitted against the perils of the catacombs. Escape if you can."

"That's it?" Spike asked, taking the paper from her.

"That's it," she replied. "These have to be the same jerks who took plopped us on that island. We tried to figure out who they were, but the list of illegal games was too big, and we didn't have any specific clues to narrow it down."

"Well, it looks like we're in for another adventure, Slayer," he said, dropping the paper to the floor. "But first, I think there's a more pressing matter to attend to."

"What's that?" Buffy asked, looking up at him.

"This," he said, boldly pulling her onto his lap, his lips descending upon hers. She moaned into his mouth as her own hands encircled his neck, her fingers running through the back of his short blond hair. He had wanted their first time back together to be leisurely, loving, but she was reducing him to the likes of an inexperienced teenager, hungry for every inch of her, but unsure of where to begin. His erection strained against the material of his jeans, and he brought his hands under her shirt to caress her free breasts, his thumb brushing over the sensitive nipples.

Moving his mouth, he nipped and licked a path down her neck, stopping to suck on her ear lobe as she arched against his hands. She pushed the bomber jacket off of his shoulders until she couldn't push any farther, then let go and removed the long leather duster from her own as he teased the sensitive spot behind her ear with his tongue.

"Spike, please," Buffy gasped, grabbing the hem of her baby tee and yanking it over the top of her head. She wiggled against him, causing him to groan from deep in his chest. He quickly shed his own coat and T-shirt, then pulled her against him as he lay back on the discarded clothing, not noticing the hard rock pressing into his bare back. All his senses were focused on the warm body laying on top of him, the lips that were caressing his neck, the tongue that dipped into the hollow of his throat making him inhale sharply.

Spike's hands dove under the waistband of her cargo pants, pulling her tightly against him before moving his fingers between them to find her already wet and ready for him. "Slayer, now," he ground out as her pebble-like nipples brushed against his smooth chest, inciting him into near frenzy.

Buffy rolled off of him and kicked off her shoes, then removed the rest of her clothing as he did the same. Soon, she was on top of him again, rubbing her wetness along his throbbing shaft as their tongues and teeth clashed. As the rock floor cut into her knees, she lifted her hips, then impaled herself on his manhood to the hilt and they both cried out in pleasure.

Grabbing her hips, Spike thrust up into her as she came down, their pelvises smacking with brute force. Her fingers bruised his shoulders with her grasp as she began to pant, her muscles convulsing around him as she started to orgasm. He brought one hand down and found her clit, pinching it. Buffy shouted out his name, climaxing, sending him over the edge, as well. He thrust up into her fully, spilling his seed deep within, his head arched back as he let out a loud growl of pleasure.

Breathing heavily, Buffy collapsed bonelessly on him, her forehead resting against the cool, moist rock of the floor, her chin on his shoulder. She could feel his fingers running lightly up and down her back and breathed a sigh of pleasure. "I missed you," she said quietly in his ear.

"I missed you, too, luv," Spike replied, his body calm for the first time in over a month. He kissed her shoulder softly, his arms wrapping around her waist to hug her tightly against him. "I missed you, too."

"It's a bloody good thing I decided to wear knickers," Spike said as he wrapped his boxers around another leg bone. He lit the material with his lighter, watching as the flames began their ascent, sending light into the darkness of the tunnel they were in.

They had been walking down the straight, rocky path for over an hour, with no turns or end in sight. Buffy was starting to wonder how they got into the room where they started out. "Are we ever going to get anywhere?" she complained. "This is getting annoying."

As if someone was listening, the tunnel suddenly opened up into a large cave. Holding the torch aloft, they peered around the rocky room cautiously. "Slayer, look," Spike said, pointing to several kerosene lanterns sitting on the ground. Buffy went and picked one up, shaking it slightly before handing it to him.

"Still full," she commented, choosing another one. "This one, too." The blond vampire went about lighting each of the lanterns she handed to him, until all ten were casting a soft glow around them. He put out the torch, and picked one up, intent on surveying the large cavern.

There were four separate tunnels leading off the room, not including the one they came from, along with a multitude of holes in the rock walls. "Which way should we go?" he asked, gesturing to the tunnels.

"Miney," Buffy suggested, pointing to the third one.

"Any particular reason?"

"In iney, meany, miney, moe; miney never gets picked," she told him with a serious expression on her face. She ruined it by bursting out into giggles.

Spike was about to say something when his keen hearing picked up a strange sound. He held up his hand, cocking his head to listen more intently.

Buffy shut up instantly, curious as to what he was doing. Then she heard it, too. The sound of clicking, as if a woman were walking in high heel shoes on a tiled floor. Carefully, she held the lantern she'd chosen up high, turning in a full circle as she tried to find where the noise was coming from. At first, she thought that the cave was creating an echo, but then she realized her error when five, large, metallic spider like creatures came out of the holes in the walls.

Her entire body shivered with the willies. "Nyagh."

"Look out, Slayer!" Spike yelled to her as he saw one running up behind her. She whipped around and threw the lantern at it in fright. It broke over the spider, the kerosene catching fire, igniting. A loud, high pitched squeal was heard as the creature continued to advance upon her.

Spike ran towards Buffy, kicking the spiders that were in his path. With one arm, he captured her around the waist and pulled her out of the way in the nick of time. The burning creature exploded where she had been, showering them with gore.

Buffy screeched in his ear, pounding on the vampire to put her down as more advanced upon them. As he set her on her feet, she passed him a stake, kicking one of the spiders with all her strength. Instead of it flying across the room, her sneaker clad foot sunk into its body. "Eeewwww!"

As the Slayer extracted her foot, Spike pounced on another one, ramming the stake in the middle of it's silvery back. The eight legs shot out straight and it collapsed onto the floor, twitching, the stake severing the nerves. Whirling, he brought arms up as one of the remaining creatures spindle like legs pierced his skin. He growled out in pain as he saw the underside of the spider, it's hideous looking, sucker like mouth coming towards him as the other legs tried to latch on to his chest.

"Its got my shoe," Buffy said as her stocking clad foot came out covered in black ooze. She dropped to her knees and plunged a stake into its back, just to make sure it was dead. She heard clicking behind her and dove forward, somersaulting over the body as the metallic spider attacked, one of its legs ripping the cuff of her pants.

Without stopping, the Slayer rolled to her feet, pulling another stake out of the pocket of the duster. She turned and threw it at the creature, hitting it squarely in what looked like a mass of black fish eggs, but it didn't stop advancing. Grimacing in disgust, she leapt over the spider towards the other kerosene lanterns as it came after her, looking like a deranged unicorn. She raised the object over her head and sent it crashing down upon its back, lighting it on fire like the first one.

Spike slammed the creature's back up against the wall just as it bit him. The body was crushed under the impact, splattering him in the face and chest with innards and black, fizzing ooze. Suddenly, he felt himself being tackled, falling roughly on the hard rock ground as another loud squeal filled the chamber, followed by the noise of a creature exploding.

"Oh, god," Buffy said, sliding off of Spike's body onto the ground. She brought a shaky hand off and wiped the black goo that had rubbed onto her off her face. She looked over at the vampire lying next to her on the ground and grimaced. His entire face and chest was coated with the slimy substance. She took out her panties, which she had not bothered to put back on, out of her pocket and used them to wipe the gore from him.

"Ow," Spike said after he was sure he wouldn't get any of the black stuff into his mouth. Sitting up, he removed his jacket and T-shirt to examine his arm. Buffy gasped when she saw the bleeding holes in his arm and chest from where the creature sunk its legs. There was also a ring of tiny teeth marks on his hand. "Slayer, did any of those things bite or scratch you?"

"No," Buffy replied, looking at him worriedly. "Why?"

"Poison," he answered, wiping his hand bleeding hand on his jeans.

"Will it...will it kill you?" she asked, her eyes wide and frightened.

"No," Spike said. "Just hurts like a bugger." He bend forward and took off his Doc Martens, then his socks. Carefully, he wiped at the wounds on his arm and chest, noting with relief that the bleeding was already coming to a stop. He looked up and gave her a cocky grin. "Well, that was fun."

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Fun! Look at me! I'm covered in spider creature guts! This is worse than the time I was swallowed by the mama Bezoar!" She rolled to her feet and stomped over to one of the downed creatures. With a loud snort of disgust, she reached inside its belly and pulled out her sneaker. Giving Spike the evil eye, she turned the shoe over and heard the sickening plop as innards fell to the ground.

"Would it help if I said you look cute all covered in black slime?" Spike suggested as he put his boots back on.

The shoe hitting him in the side of the head was his answer.

"Xander, can I see that coin thingy again," Willow said, holding out her hand. She examined each side of it. "A-ha! I thought I recognized these symbols."

"What are they?" Xander asked, fiddling with a Bunsen burner.

"Runes of the Elder Futhark," the red head replied. "The triangle one is Thurisaz and the other one is Perthro."

"And I take it they have some sort of meaning?"

Willow nodded. "Thurisaz is the rune for testing and challenges, Perthro is the rune for taking a gamble or an unexpected turn of events."

"Willow, perhaps if you cross reference these symbols with our list since we must wait to get the results of-of the chemicals used on the darts," Giles suggested.

"I'm on it," Willow replied, heading out the classroom door.

"What do you want me to do, G-man?" Xander said.

"Stop calling me G-man."

Spike practically skipped down the third tunnel, his lantern swinging wildly as he moved. The fight with the spiders had been disgusting, but exhilarating, and now he was bursting with energy. Of course, he was normally overflowing with energy, so this wasn't much of a change. But having the Slayer walking behind him was different.

She did look cute all covered in the black, slimy substance, then again, he always thought she looked cute. Or beautiful. Or gorgeous. Or any other synonym he could come up with. Even back when he'd first arrived in Sunnydale with Drusilla, when he watched her from the balcony at the Bronze, he'd thought she was sexy. She exuded power and fire, both which were bundled in a tasty little package.

But back then, she'd been his mortal enemy. And she was in love with Angelus of all wankers. He hated his sire and his stupid, poofy hair. Spike had yet to figure out how he did that with his hair. He much preferred his own short, peroxide locks, even if it was a pain to bleach it. Of course, now he didn't have Drusilla to do it for him. Well, she would if he asked, but he didn't want to ask her, didn't want that crazy female to come within ten feet of him. He'd told the Slayer that love was a funny thing, and he meant it, because now he loved his mortal enemy rather than the woman he'd spent a century loving.

Not that they were mortal enemies anymore. More like...what? Friends? Only lovers? Frowning, Spike knew he wanted to be classified as something better, something more tangible, something to reflect the feelings for the blond woman trudging along behind him covered in black goo and wearing his duster. He missed that duster. *Ok, mate, you're rambling off in a million different directions,* he told himself as they rounded a corner in the passageway. "Pick one thing and concentrate on it."

"Did you say something?" Buffy asked.

"Hmm?" Spike replied, turning around to walk backwards so he could see her.

"It sounded like you said 'concentrate on it'," she said. "Concentrate on what?"

"On anything, pet," he said. "My thoughts have a tendency to fly off without me."

She giggled. "Let me guess - you start thinking about, say, draining a man, then you notice the color of his eyes, which reminds you of someone you met in the 1960s, which gets you thinking about Woodstock and flower children, then a song starts in your head and you can't get rid of it..."

"And I sing it out loud until I come to a part which describes someone else, then I start thinking about them until I no longer know where I bloody started from," Spike completed. "How did you know?"

"One of my old friends was just like you," she told him. "Only younger, and no where near as sexy. I think he was diagnosed with ABC or XYZ or something."

"ADD, sweets," he corrected. "At least, that's what the shrink called it."

"You saw a shrink?" Buffy asked incredulously.

"I ate a shrink."

She dropped her head and groaned. "I had to ask."

"I found them!" Willow exclaimed to her companions in the library.

Giles hurried over to her side. "I am starting to think you might want to teach me to use this-this-this machine," he said, looking over her shoulder.

"Anytime," she said, smiling up at him.

"So, what's it say?" Xander asked.

"That we still have time to place money on Buffy and Spike if we want to," Willow replied. "Or just one of them. Or on neither - you can bet on them losing." Her eyes scanned the screen. "If you had a million dollars, which is the minimum bet."

"A million clams?" Xander's eyes widened and he whistled. "That's a lot of clams."

"The name of this...er, organization is Fehu," Giles read. "Notice the symbol that looks like a 'Y' with an extra line coming off the right?"

"That's the rune for Fehu, alright," Willow confirmed. "It means wealth or prosperity."

"Does it say where they've taken Buffy?" Xander inquired.

Willow scrolled down the screen. "They're in Game two. No specific location is given, but it's described as 'underground catacombs with a multitude of pratfalls and perils.'"

"Very poetic," Giles commented, removing his glasses to clean them.

"Hey, look," the hacker said, pointing at the screen. "There's a whole article here on Game one."

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Xander prompted. "Read it."

"'In a feat of amazement, two...yes, two...players won Game One: The Jungle by arriving simultaneously at the finish line. The Slayer and Vampire, paired together for their equal strengths and weaknesses, succeeded where the others failed," Willow read.

"The Jungle, a privately owned island, was the battle place for this game. Six teams were delivered via crate with the only instructions being to find the finish line. They were left with no supplies and no weapons, forced to survive on their wits and skills alone."

"I wonder what Buffy ate?" Xander said.

"Those of you privy to the Intel-camera were able to watch via satellite feed as the Slayer and Vampire worked together under the cover of darkness. The Slayer's exclusion from the game was almost immediate as she led a charging Yahoma away from the Vampire during the day. Her tumble down a steep incline ended with her slipping into unconsciousness as her head connected with a rock. However, the Vampire went after her, and together they ended up at a pool of water surrounded by large rocks set in the middle of the island. The area has been named Kenaz in honor of them." Willow gasped, her face turning red. Xander looked at her questioningly, but she continued before he could speak.

"Their first meeting with another team happened the next night. Two ex-Seals became victim to the Vampire's bite. After, it looked as though the winning team would come to blows as the nature of the Slayer opposed the Vampire's actions. However, survival instincts prevailed, and the two returned to the pool," she read. "The Vampire almost met his match at noon the next day as another team player, who had killed his own teammate, attempted to pull the Vampire out into the sun. The Slayer once again saved him by attacking the Mossimer, breaking his neck despite her foot being caught in between the rocks. That night, they found where the finish line was located, then returned to the pool to give the viewers a very passionate show."

"What!" Xander exclaimed. Giles cleared his throat several times, nervously fiddling with his glasses still in his hands. "She...she...she...with him!"

"Willow, please con-continue," Giles said before Xander could go on with his tirade.

Willow nodded, her face matching the color of her hair. "Two nights later they began to scale the cliff, on top of which the finish line was located. One-sixth of the way up, the Lacrama team found the cliff and started ascending behind the Slayer and Vampire. Halfway up, the Vampire suddenly descended to the Slayer's side, letting her bypass him to put himself between the Lacrama and her. She reached the top and, instead of entering the shack which served as the finish line, she found a rope and lowered it to the Vampire," she read.

"It looked as though the Vampire was going to kill the Slayer when he reached the top, but the first of their competition came over the edge of the cliff, and they ran to the shack. Now, it is common knowledge that vampires cannot enter a non-public structure without an invitation, yet somehow, as the Vampire pushed the Slayer, they both landed simultaneously on the floor inside the structure. Avoiding death from the Lacrama's tail, the Vampire kicked the door to the shack closed and the game ended. The Slayer and the Vampire both winners.'"

Willow blinked and leaned back in her chair. "That's it," she said. "It lists the odds and the winning percentages of the first game, and has links to past games, but nothing more."

"Well, um, thank you, Willow," Giles said, replacing his glasses. "I think that is all we can do for-for tonight."

"Spike, look-" Buffy called as the blond vampire fell backwards with a loud splash."-out." She laughed as he came up sputtering from the water of the large, underground pool that stretched out before her, disappearing into the darkness. The path they had chosen veered sharply to the left along the side of the water.

Spike stood, moving to the edge he fell off and set the wet lantern down. "Thanks for the warning, pet," he said sarcastically.

"Serves you right for walking backwards," she said, watching as he hoisted himself back onto the path, his clothes sopping wet. Her eyes widened as he began to strip. "What are you doing?"

"What does it bloody look like?" Spike said. "I'm going to wash this slime off me." Naked, he dropped back down into the water, pulling his T-shirt with him to clean it off. When he looked up, the Slayer was shimming out of her pants to join him.

"Aah," Buffy sighed as she got into the cool water. "This is nice."

"It's pretty nice from where I'm standing, too," he commented, staring at her bare breasts as she lay back in the water. Buffy splashed water at him in reply, catching him by surprise. "I don't think so, luv," he said, throwing his shirt on the rocks, then retaliating.

Cavorting like children, they splashed and chased each other in the underground pool, oblivious to the dangers below the surface.

Spike watched as Buffy tread water, taunting him, and smiled. His unlife had taken such a drastic turn, from death and destruction, to death, destruction and love. And if anything was going to be his downfall, it was love, because he knew at that moment if anything happened to the Slayer, his heart would be destroyed. He realized that he would move hell and earth just to see her smile at him. *Bloody hell,* he thought. *The great William the Bloody, defeated not by the Slayer's stake, but by her love. I am such a wanker.*

"Hey, root-boy," Buffy called. "Tiring out already?"

"Not on your bloody life, Slayer," he called back.

"Then what are you standing there fo-" Buffy's voice was cut off as she was pulled under the water.

"Slayer?" Spike yelled out over the water.

No answer.

"This isn't funny, pet!"

Still nothing.

If his heart was active, it would be pounding in his chest as panic began to overtake him. Pushing off, he swam in quick strokes to where she had been treading water about twenty-five feet out from the path. The light from the kerosene lantern barely cut through the darkness as he looked around wildly for her. "If this is a joke, Slayer, I'm going to bloody kill you," he called out in hopes she'd answer.

Nothing.

Suddenly realizing that it was possible that she was drowning, he kicked under the water, his game face prevalent as he tried to sense her. Muted, but still there, he heard the sounds of thrashing coming from his right. Swimming quickly, he aimed for the noise, only to feel something wrap around tightly around his leg and pull him down.

With a mental savage roar, he grabbed the soft, rubbery tentacle and ripped it in half, freeing his leg. He knew he only had moments to free the Slayer who was undoubtedly caught by whatever creature this was before she was lost to him. He had no way to breathe life into her lungs, lacking the requisite ability to produce oxygen.

Cutting through the inky depths, he found the Slayer and seized the tentacle holding her captive, tearing it from her struggling body. She shot towards the surface like a bullet, Spike rising up directly behind her, keeping himself between her and the creature. He stayed below the surface, hovering by her legs as she filled her lungs with air. When she began to swim towards the rocky path, he followed slowly, his senses on alert for another attack.

Buffy pulled herself up onto the ground, panting heavily, her whole body shaking. She had almost drowned, again. Shivering not from the cold, but from the trauma, she curled into a ball as Spike climbed up out of the water. "S-S-S-Spike?"

Spike dropped to the ground and pulled her onto his lap, holding her tightly to him, his body shaking as well from fear. "I almost lost you," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. He kissed the top of her wet head, then pressed his cheek against it, listening to her pounding heart. He closed his eyes and swallowed heavily, telling himself that she was safe, that she was unharmed.

With a trembling hand, he raised his head and tilted her chin up to see fear-filled eyes. Wanting reassurance, Spike crushed her lips with his, tears streaming from under his tightly closed lids. Breaking away so she could breathe, he stared at her with his own blue eyes reflecting unnamed emotions. "Buffy, I need..." He trailed off, not knowing how to convey what he needed.

But Buffy knew what he meant, for she needed him, too. She needed to feel his touch, to feel him filling her, reassuring her that she was alive. Moving off of his lap, she spread out the leather duster away from the edge of the pool, then beckoned him to her side.

His hands were everywhere at once, caressing her, his cool fingers making her body tingle. His mouth followed his hands, covering her entirely in kisses, stopping at her core to lavish her with his tongue, bringing her to a violent orgasm. She thrashed against his face, pushing at his shoulders with her feet as he held her down. Soon, his lips were replaced by his manhood as he moved over her, plundering her mouth with his tongue.

Buffy wrapped her legs around his lean waist and thrust up against him as he entered her hot passage. Her fingers scratched up his back, leaving trails of blood from her nails cutting into his skin. Spike slammed into her hard and fast, his weight resting on his forearms, until she ripped her mouth away from his to scream out as she climaxed. With a shout, he followed her over the edge, driving his cock into her as far as he could, shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.

They lay entwined together, clinging to each other as they calmed down. Spike raised his head and looked deep into Buffy's eyes. He opened his mouth to tell her how he felt, then closed it again, deciding now was not the time. Instead, he gave her a gentle kiss.

Spike re-lit his lantern and stood, holding out his hand to Buffy. "Ready, luv?"

"Yeah," she replied, intertwining their fingers as they continued to walk around the edge of the pool, following their chosen path. "You know, I'm really sick of being grabbed or thrown or chased after or drowned or slimed..."

He chuckled. "I imagine you are," he said. "This is going to sound like a silly question, but do you like being the Slayer?"

"It doesn't matter if I like it or not," Buffy said with a shrug. "It's a part of who I am."

"But if you got to choose..."

"Spike, before I was the Slayer, I was a shallow, bubble headed twit who cared for nothing more than boys and clothes," she explained. "After I was called, all I saw was death. The death of my friends, the death of my first Watcher, the death of my old life."

"So, I gather you'd choose not to be the Slayer," Spike surmised.

"No," Buffy denied immediately. "No matter how much evil I fight, how much senseless destruction or death I cause or see, being the Slayer has made me value life, to not take the little things for granted because everything could be gone in an instant."

Spike was silent as they continued walking, pondering over what she said. He would have hated the pre-chosen Buffy as she described herself and was glad that she wouldn't want to go back to being that way.

"Spike?"

"Yes, pet?"

"Same question," Buffy said. "Do you like being a vampire?"

"It has its moments," Spike confessed. "It's bloody annoying not being able to go out in the sun, but having the power of life and death in your hands is the greatest high. You know that, pet. You have that power each time you go on one of your patrols."

"But if you got to choose..." She trailed off in the same manner he had.

"If I got to choose whether or not to be turned?" Spike asked. She nodded. "I could take the easy way out and say if Angelus didn't make me, I wouldn't have met you."

"But you won't," she said.

"But I won't," he repeated. He was silent for a short while. "I don't know, pet," he finally said. "I wasn't a very nice man when I was human. I'd like to think that over the years, soul or not, I've changed for the better. I learned to love. I learned to enjoy some of the things humans have to offer besides being meals on wheels. I learned I can have fun without killing anyone, although killing does have its highlights."

"How is it that you're so different than Angel was when he lost his soul?" Buffy asked.

"No offense, Slayer, but Angelus was a bloody wanker before he became a vampire, while he was still human. I've heard enough stories over the years to put together a picture of a drunken lout, whose sole purpose in life was to drink and whore, especially luring married women to his bed," Spike said. "After he was turned, he became a viscous killer. So, when his soul was restored to him, he felt the guilt of all those deaths, and it changed him. Made him soft. Then when he lost it again, he was suddenly free of all that guilt and remorse."

"But that only explains why he acted the way he did, not how come you two were so different," Buffy said.

"Luv, I was a viscous killer before I was turned," he said. "And I've had years to learn that killing is not the be all, end all of a vampire's existence. There are many of us out there who use immortality to its fullest advantage. Dalton loved books. For close to a hundred years, he surrounded himself with them, reading everything he could get his bloody hands on as he traveled with Dru and me."

"What happened to him?"

"The Judge zapped him," he replied.

"But I thought that the Judge could only work on humans?" Buffy asked, confused.

"On humanity, pet," Spike corrected. "He could've killed me or Dru because we allowed ourselves to love."

"Oh," she said, looking over at the smooth walls of the tunnel they traversed. "Do you still love her?"

"Drusilla?" Spike clarified. She nodded. "Do you still love Angelus?"

"I asked you first," Buffy said.

"And you're the Slayer," her replied with a smile. She laughed, remembering their chat room conversation. "How about this: I love Dru, but I'm no longer in love with her."

"Same for me," Buffy said.

"You love Drusilla?"

She smacked him on arm with the lantern. "Angel, you dork."

"Oh, I'm a dork now, am I?" Spike said. "And here I thought I was just a bloodsucking demon."

"You're that, too," she giggled.

"Keep it up, Slayer, and I'll take my duster back," he threatened, the huge grin on his face belaying his words.

"What is it with you and your love obsession over this coat?"

"If I love that coat that much, imagine how much I love you," Spike replied offhandedly. He suddenly stopped walking. "I just bloody said that out loud, didn't I?"

"You...you love me?" Buffy asked, her eyes wide as she stared up at him in the lamp light.

A slow smile spread across his lips as he brought a hand up to caress her cheek. "That's not how I planned to tell you, but yes, I do."

Buffy's entire face lit up at his confession and she launched herself into his arms, the lantern hitting him in the back. "Oh, Spike. I love you, too. I have ever since you bandaged my hands, then kissed my fingertips when we were still on that island."

Spike closed his eyes as a feeling of complete peace stole over his body. Gently, he brought his lips down for the sweetest kiss he'd ever had in all his two hundred years.

"Well, what do we do then?" Xander asked Giles when they reconvened in the library a few nights later.

"Wait," Giles replied. "We do not know where this-this Game two is taking place, so we shall have to hope Buffy and...er, Spike make it through."

"It wasn't bad enough when Buffy was with Deadboy," Xander complained. "Now she's hooked up with peroxide boy?"

"Xander, we don't know that," Willow protested. "Well, we do know that they hugged. And had...had...relations, according to that article. And they seemed friendly to each other. And Buffy's been wearing his coat for weeks. Ok, they hooked up. They're hooked."

"Picture the ramifications of this relationship," Xander said. "Hi, I'm shacking up with a bloodsucking, soul-less demon who likes to torture people with railroad spikes for fun. How are you?"

"I didn't know you knew such a big word," Giles replied drolly.

"And the tweed man becomes a comedian," Xander said. "Can life get any worse?"

"Um...Giles?" Angel said softly, standing in the doorway of the library.

"That was a rhetorical question!" Xander shouted up towards the ceiling. Willow giggled.

"Have you seen Buffy?" Angel asked, shifting nervously on his feet under the Watcher's stare. "I...um, there's a problem."

"What sort of problem?" Giles asked, his tone wary.

"Trick is planning a raid at the hospital," Angel replied.

"Very well, if you'll excuse me," Giles said, walking into his office.

Angel's brow knitted in confusion. He looked over at the two teens at the table. "Buffy?"

"She's a little busy right now, but if you leave your message after the beep, she'll be sure not to get back to you," Xander responded snidely.

"Xander," Willow chided. She looked over at Angel. "Buffy's gone."

"Gone?" Angel said. "Where?"

"She's been...uh, kidnapped," Willow replied. "Again."

"By who?" he asked sharply.

"The same guys who took her last time," she answered. "You do know about that, right?" Angel nodded. "Did she tell you about her...um, partner?"

Xander snorted. "Nice way to put it, Wills."

"Not really, Willow," Angel replied to the red head's question. "Why? Is there something I should know?"

"Well, he was took, too," Willow told him. "I mean, taken. By the guys. Who took Buffy. Again."

"How do you know?"

"We saw him," she replied. "Get taken. With Buffy, that is. From the park, where we were patrolling. We had slayed two vamps when Spike came up behind her, and then she started laughing at him, then we realized he was wearing different clothes and that the coat was his, you don't know how many times we tried to figure that out..."

"Willow," Angel interrupted. "Did you say Spike? Buffy's partner was Spike?"

"Um...yeah," she said.

"And they were quite cozy, too," Xander added, looking pointedly at the vampire. "In fact, so cozy, clothing was optional."

Giles came out of his office before Angel could reply. "I managed to get hold of Faith. She will go to the hospital."

Knowing that his presence was no longer welcome in the library, Angel nodded and silently left, his mind a whirlwind of questions and confusion over what Willow and Xander had told him. And inferred.

"Why do I feel like Harrison Ford is going to come running around that corner any minute?" Buffy asked as she looked across the chasm that separated them from the other side. The lovers had curled up together in a small crevice they found on the path to sleep earlier, holding each other close, reveling in the new found admission of love. They had no way of knowing how long they'd been in the caverns, or whether it was night or day outside, only that they were both tired of the darkness and hungry. Very hungry. Especially Spike.

"I hear you, pet," the vampire replied. He put both hands on the rope bridge that was strung across the chasm and shook it. Some rotting, wooden planks broke off and fell silently, disappearing into the blackness down below. "Are you sure you want to go this way?"

"We've been heading steadily up for a while now," Buffy said. "Eventually we'd have to reach the surface."

Spike nodded. "Do you want me to go first?"

"No. I will," she said, stepping in front of him. "You know, I never understood why the characters never just ran across."

"Because the scripts called for dramatic tension, luv," Spike told her. He tilted her chin up and planted a hard kiss on her lips. "Be careful."

"Right. Careful," Buffy agreed, hooking the lantern handle over her wrist. She took a deep breath, then grasped both sides of the rope bridge tightly. Steeling herself, she walked forward.

The bridge groaned under her weight, the rope stretching. A few more boards broke off and floated slowly down into the chasm. Deciding to follow her own advice, she quickened her pace, her stance wide as she traversed the divide. When she reached the opposite side, she let out the breath that she'd been holding, turning around to wave Spike across.

And as Spike worked his way across, in typical movie fashion, one of the ropes snapped, sending the vampire grappling for a better handhold as he dangled precariously over the open chasm. Buffy bit through her lip so she would not scream as he swung his legs up around the remaining rope. Pulling himself backward hand over hand, Spike made it to the other side without further problems.

"You know, I always wanted to try my hand at stunt work," he commented, brushing his no-longer-blue jeans off as he stood. He raised his head to see blood pouring down the sides of Buffy's trembling mouth, igniting both his worry for her and his bloodlust. He was so very hungry. He brought one hand up and wiped the blood on his thumb, bringing it to his mouth to taste as the Slayer watched, wide eyed.

Power. That's what he tasted when he licked her blood from his hand. Pure, unadulterated power that beckoned to him. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "Buffy," he gasped out through gritted teeth. "Get away."

"But..."

"Now!" His face rippled to that of the demon, then back to human as he called on every ounce of control he ever had and then some he didn't. He barely heard the Slayer as she turned tail and ran up the tunnel, taking the scent of her tantalizing blood away with her. He turned and faced the chasm, dropping to the ground to dangle his feet over the edge and stared down into the darkness.

He wanted her. He wanted to sink his fangs into her neck and take all that power into himself. Who was he kidding? Thinking that they had a chance to be together had to be the most idiotic idea in all his two hundred years of existence. Even though she understood his love of violence, his need for action, his short attention span she'd never be able to stay with the demon who now craved her blood. On the island, he had fed before they scaled the cliff, so when he bandaged her hand he only had to control his base instincts. But now he hadn't fed in what seemed like days, and he was tired. And that tiredness combined with his hyperactivity and hunger made for a deadly vampire.

He was debating whether or not to throw himself off the edge when he heard her scream.

They were everywhere.

Buffy screamed in terror as the things shot out of the darkness at her head, scratching, clawing, biting at her. She raised her arms up protectively, the lantern clunking against her arm as ran. She barely stopped herself from pitching over into a shallow pit lined with spikes as she batted at the creatures swooping at her. Finding one wall of the cave, she crouched down, dropping the light from her wrist and pulling the long, leather duster over her head, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"This is not the behavior of a good Slayer, Buffy," she fearfully chided herself as the things thumped into her back. Luckily, the leather was tough and durable, having survived fifty years of vampire escapades. Suddenly, she heard a loud roar and squealed in fright, clutching the coat firmer around her tense body, not wanting to know what was behind the primal animal yell.

Listening, she heard the sickening sounds of flesh being torn, bones cracking, bodies smacking against the rock floor. The attacks stopped on her back, but she was still afraid to move, afraid to peer out from behind the folds to see what was happening. Narrowing her eyes, she forced herself to do just that, moving the lapels barely enough to look out into the cavern.

If she had anything in her stomach, she would have thrown it all up. As it was, her body convulsed with dry heaves as she surveyed the carnage around her.

Wings with the tendons ripped out, extending towards the ceiling like sinewy masts sat next to heads with hooked beaks dangling by barely a thread, blood gushing from the holes where they had been. Eyeballs hung from the sockets like grotesque rear view mirror ornaments. Flesh was peeled back, exposing hearts still beating behind rib cages. Some of the creatures were tangled in their own entrails, trying in vain to fly. Yellow, orange and black piles of organs littered the floor with fragments of white bone looking like sprinkles on cupcakes. Blood, thick and red, was splattered everywhere, decorating the cave with surreal designs, as if an expressionist painter were let loose.

And in the middle of it all sat a vamped-out Spike.

"Spike?" Buffy called out tentatively, not moving from her spot against the wall. The blood covered vampire turned his yellow eyes to her. "Are you...are you ok?"

He tilted his head to one side, staring at her in a predatory fashion. Buffy was about to retrieve one of her last remaining stakes when the human mask slipped into place and he dropped his head. "I'm sorry," Spike whispered, the words barely reaching her ears. "I wanted to...to...to..." His voice hitched and he choked back a sob.

Buffy stood immediately and rushed to his side, not caring about the blood on him as she wrapped her arms around him, pressing his head to her breast. "But you didn't. That's the important thing."

"No," he snarled, trying to break away. "It's not bloody ok that I wanted to drain you dry! And I could have, too. I could have drained the life right out of you before you even knew it!"

"Spike, shh," Buffy said, running her hand through his blood spattered hair as she held him to her. "Don't think about it right now."

Spike gave into the tears and let her be his strength as he sobbed against her like a baby, his whole body shaking with emotion. Eventually, he had no more tears to cry and he sniffed, calming down as Buffy rocked him gently in her arms. "Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to tell you this once, and then we're never going to mention it again," Buffy said, staring at a bloody splat on the cave wall. "If it ever came to the point where you couldn't control your hunger, I would gladly die so that you would be able to live." He began to tremble in her arms. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I don't deserve you," Spike answered with a harsh voice.

"You're right," she teased softly, kissing the top of his head. "But you're stuck with me, anyway."

He chuckled and sniffed, bringing his arm up to wipe his nose. Blinking rapidly, he focused his eyes into the cave. "I made a bloody mess, didn't I?"

"Eh, I've seen worse," Buffy said casually. He snorted, sending them both into much needed, mood lifting laughter.

Sighing, she released him and sat back on her heels. She put her hand under his chin, making him look at her. The side of her mouth went up in a half grin. "William the Bloody. It fits."

He brought both hands up and wiped his face, staring at the appendages in horror at the amount of blood on them. "Cor, I must look a fright."

"Disgusting," Buffy agreed, pushing to her feet. "But still cute." He looked up at her skeptically and she chuckled. "Come on, Blondie, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Spike stood and walked over to where he dropped his lantern, glad that it hadn't broke in his headlong rush into the area. When he returned to Buffy's side, she looked down at her blood-covered hand, then at his, then purposely intertwined their fingers. "I am so looking forward to taking a shower," she said, leading him around the pit.

"Need someone to scrub your back?" Spike asked suggestively.

"Maybe," she said coyly. "Depends on the volunteer."

"Will a blood-spattered vampire who loves you more than his duster do?"

"Duster do?" Buffy giggled. "Sounds like a bad hairstyle."

"Like the big hair era," he said. "With the ten gallons of hair spray that stuck to your skin every time you walked into a room."

"When was that?"

"1950s, early 60s," Spike replied. "Before flat hair came back. You should have seen Dru, her hair draped across an ironing board as she made me press it for her. I remember burning Jason's face with the iron when I caught him laughing. And I liked Jason. He had this thing about bells, little ones, big ones. He collected them, you know. One time, he asked if I wanted to go steal one out of Notre Dame with him, bloody nitwit. But you wouldn't believe how beautiful Notre Dame is, with the gargoyles perched on top, looking over the streets. I would have happily stolen one of those..."

Buffy smiled widely as he spoke, listening to him go from one topic to another without even realizing it. His ADD was even more pronounced than her friend's had been. Mark could stay on one topic for about five minutes before he was distracted. Spike changed to a new one with practically every other sentence. She wondered how he managed to get anything accomplished.

"...And then she said 'But Spi-ike, Miss Edith told me you were getting a turkey.' A bloody turkey! And we're talking cooked, not fresh, Slayer. I had to traipse all over looking for a shop that still had turkeys on Thanksgiving night. Cor, I wanted to strangle her...."

"Why are we here again?" Xander asked as he and Willow trailed behind Giles to the back entrance of the hospital.

"Because we're the Slayerettes," Willow explained. "This is what we do."

"But we're playing Tonto to Faith's Lone Ranger, rather than the Buffster," Xander said. "It's wiggy."

"All Slayer's should have groupies, Xander," she told him. "Maybe that way we'd get T-shirts. Black ones, with a brown stake through a red heart. That would be cool."

"Um...Willow?" Xander said in a strained voice.

"Yeah?"

"Duck," he instructed as a vampire body came flying over towards them. The two friends hit the ground as the vamp sailed by, then scrambled to their feet after him, stakes in hand.

The fight was going strong as they rounded the corner after dusting the vampire. Faith and Angel were knocking their opponents left and right, with Giles shooting at them from behind a dumpster. They joined Giles in his hiding spot, attacking any vamp that came their way with their holy water and crosses.

"There's a hole in the rock," Spike said, looking up in front of them.

"There are lots of holes in these rocks, Spike," Buffy replied.

"No, I mean someone put a bloody hole in this rock," he corrected, pointing at the large, man made hole. He stuck the lantern through and looked. "It's a boiler room."

"Really?" Buffy asked with excitement. "Does that mean we're free?"

"Looks that way, pet," he said, squeezing her hand. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"I'd love to," she replied, raising her leg over the opening. She held her lantern aloft as Spike came through behind her. "Woah. Deja vu."

"What was that, luv?"

"I've been in this boiler room before," Buffy told him as they linked hands again, some of the dried blood flaking off as they touched.

"And what were you doing down here, young lady?" Spike asked, pretending to be appalled as they began walking.

"Probably killing something," she said. "Although maybe this is where Oz found me naked."

"What?!"

"See, Amy turned me into a rat," Buffy explained. "And I ran away and ended up turning back into me in a boiler room. Anyway, Oz didn't really see me naked, because I was behind some boxes."

"He better not have, or else I have to rip his bloody head off," Spike growled.

She laughed. "Jealous much?"

He was about to retort when he tripped, his predator like agility the only thing keeping him from falling flat on his face. He looked down at the ground, but saw nothing. "Did I or didn't I just trip?"

"You tripped," Buffy confirmed, looking at the ground, as well.

"Well then, what the bloody hell did I trip over?"

Carefully, the Slayer moved her leg around the area and was startled when she connected with something solid. Something solid, but invisible. She shook her head and chuckled, holding the lantern to where she expected to see stairs. *Yup, there they are.*

"What's so funny?" Spike asked, confused.

"Kindestod," she told him.

"Gesundheit," he replied.

"No, no, no," she giggled, kicking her foot out to connect solidly with the invisible body. "Kindestod. Child death. I killed him last year. You just tripped over him."

Spike nudged his foot forward and was surprised when he ran into something he couldn't see. "How the hell did you kill him if he's bloody invisible, Slayer?"

"I had a 105 degree temperature at the time," Buffy explained. "He could be seen as long as I had a fever."

He looked at her in amazement. "You killed him while you were sick? How in the world did I ever think you were not that strong?"

"Well, I'm not that tough," she confessed, pulling on his hand to lead him to the stairwell. "I was almost killed by Angelus because I was sick. If my friends didn't show up when they did, I would have been lunch."

"Friends aren't in the handbook, you know," he said.

"Did everyone get a Slayer handbook but me?" Buffy said exasperatedly as she listened at the door. She slowly pushed on the handle and stuck her head out, looking both left and right down the quiet halls. "All clear."

"Ducks, we'd best sneak out the back way," Spike said as he followed her out the door. He gestured at himself, then her. "Or they're liable to think we're on the critical list. Luckily, now that we're above ground, I can tell it's nighttime."

She laughed lightly upon taking a good look at him in the light. His hair was no longer blond, but dark red with bits of white streaked in it. He had bloody finger marks on both sides of his face where he ran his hands down his cheeks. The front of his T-shirt and jeans were almost completely black from the combination of the spider blood and the winged creatures blood and his hands looked like he dipped them in dark red paint.

Spike was surveying Buffy at the same time, noting the large, red stain on her not so white baby tee, making it look like she was stabbed or shot in the chest. Her neck and cheek on one side were smeared with blood from where she laid her head on his hair while comforting him. Her one shoe and pant leg were completely black where she had kicked the metallic spider and he could see sucker marks along her belly from the tentacle that held her captive under water as her shirt moved while she walked. Her hands were streaked with blood as well, but not as much as his were.

"Slayer," he said quietly as they made their way down the halls. "No one could ever accuse us of leading boring lives."

"Is that all of them?" Faith asked, looking around at the scattered dust behind the hospital. "Damn. I was just getting jacked up, too."

"Good work, Faith," Giles said, coming out from behind the dumpster with Willow and Xander. He looked over at the vampire resting his hands on his legs. "A-a-and thank you, as well, Angel."

Angel nodded and winced, cursing his body mentally for not being at full strength yet. Pulling himself upright, he turned to go, but caught something out of the corner of his eye. Or more like someone. "Buffy?"

Four heads whipped to where the vampire was looking, their mouths dropping open as Spike and Buffy came out one of the back doors of the hospital hand in hand, covered in blood, carrying lanterns. Xander was the first to speak. "Buffy?!"

Buffy heard her name being called and turned to see Willow, Xander, Giles, Faith and Angel standing in the alleyway. "Oh, look, a welcoming committee," she joked, smiling up at Spike, her eyes dancing with merriment. "Are they ever going to wig when they get a close up of us." She turned back to the group as they came down the stairs. "Hi, guys!"

"Buffy, dear Lord, are you alright?" Giles asked, looking warily at Spike.

"Spike, what happened to your hair?" Willow said, her eyes wide.

Spike chuckled, squeezing Buffy's hand before dropping it to take the lantern from her. "Just a little accident, ducks. Nothing to be alarmed about," he replied with a half grin. He put out both of the lights, then transferred them to one hand.

"It's not his blood," Buffy explained. At her friends frightened looks, she quickly amended her statement. "Or mine."

"Any of you guys wanna tell me why we're not staking this stiff?" Faith asked standing near the back of the group by Angel.

"Don't even try it," the blond Slayer said in a low, dangerous tone.

Faith put up her hands in defense. "It's five by five. If you Ls and Gs will excuse me, I'm outta here." She gave them a cocky salute, then left.

"She has a point," Angel said quietly.

"I hate to say it, but I have to go with Deadboy on this," Xander said.

"I can go," Spike said softly to Buffy.

"No," Buffy said, putting her foot down. "You're not going anywhere and if anyone has a problem with that, you have my permission to eat them."

"I don't think that's going to endear them in my favor, pet," he replied dryly.

"Look, you guys, unlike some, Spike hasn't tried to kill any of us since before mom was seeing Psycho-Ted," she told them.

"But what about the spell?" Willow brought up.

"Did he try to kill you, or just threaten?"

"Uh...threaten," the red head replied meekly.

"Ok, then," Buffy said. "I don't want to hear another word about it, or come summer, I will take my Slayer behind far away from here and leave you in the hands of Faith."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them. "Well, if-if-if you are certain you are not hurt," Giles finally stammered. "I suppose you will be wanting to go home to, er, shower, before you fill us in on what happened."

"Big time," she replied, relaxing slightly. "Then I want a nice, large pineapple pizza, a gallon of Evian and a foot rub, in that order." She looked up at Spike who was studiously picking off the dried blood on his black fingernails. "Do you want anything?"

Spike gave her a slow, lazy smile. "Oh, I'm sure I can come up with something I want."

She blushed and punched him on the shoulder. "Where's your car?"

"By the park," he replied.

"Ok, we'll swing by and pick it up on our way to my house," Buffy said, linking her arm through his. "Come by in about an hour, guys, for the full scoop. And don't forget the pizza."

"Very well, Buffy," Giles said. "We shall see you then."

"So," Buffy said a few minutes later as they walked, arm in arm, towards the park. "Do you still volunteer to scrub my back?

"I think I can manage to do that, luv," Spike replied, sticking his hand in his pocket. Frowning, he pulled it back out and looked down at it. "Um, Slayer? What do you suppose this is?" he asked, holding his hand out for her to see.

"Looks like something that came out of those winged creatures," Buffy answered. She looked up at him and shrugged. "Maybe a spleen?"

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