Four Hundred Days

By Passionfish

 

 

Part One

 

 

"For the last time guys, we're not under a spell and we're not drugged."

 

Giles regarded his ward and her companion ruefully, wondering what he could have done to have prevented this madness.

 

"Buffy..."  He replaced his newly wiped glasses and sighed, "...you can't honestly expect us to believe that the four days you've been missing have actually been four hundred and within that time you've managed to acquire this...husband."

 

"What did the demon look like again?"  Willow asked, not entirely sure of her friend's sanity.

 

"Big, green and black.  Had a nice shiny sword."  Came a very masculine response from the seat next to Buffy.

 

"No body asked you."  Xander cut in heatedly.

 

"Leave off, Xander."  Buffy snapped as her husband looked ready to murder the whelp.  "Look, I don't know where we were but for the thousandth time I was fighting in Restfield cemetery and then big flash of light I'm in late ninetieth century England."  Buffy sighed, she'd already explained all this and quite frankly all she wanted to do was to collapse into her husband's safe embrace and sleep for a week.  They'd all but given up hope of returning home and now she was finally here she hadn't anticipated any of these silly problems.  Like the fact time seemed to have gone slower in Sunnydale than in Yorkshire.

 

"Okay Buffy.  Just tell us one more time what happened when you arrived."  Giles asked soothingly.

 

"Okay...big flash of light...."

 

 

~~ Day One ~~

 

 

"What the...ow!"  Buffy stumbled over to the soft grass below as her ankle gave way beneath her.  Her Slayer instincts had been enough to prevent her seriously hurting herself, but still, falling down a hill with a 5ft11 Vampire tumbling after, and sometimes on, you didn't help matters any.  With a sigh she absently lifted her skirt and slipped off her trainer and sock.

 

"You okay?"  Came a bored, barely bothered query.

 

"Yeah, perfect!  I'm just sitting here on my ass 'cause I like the view!"  Buffy replied sarcastically.  She tried to get up but wobbled once more and sat back down with a soft curse.

 

"Bloody hell!"  Spike muttered and he moved over to her.  Swatting her hands away he took her ankle and carefully ran his fingers over the already swelling flesh.  "Not broken, probably just sprained."

 

"Like you'd know."  Buffy murmured, his caring actions rising her defences.

 

"I would."  Spike agreed, and then pressed his thumb into the side of the hollow.  Buffy gave a telltale gasp and he smirked. "Just like I know that feels good." 

 

He leered at her and she snatched her foot away, wincing at the throb of pain the sudden movement brought.  Obviously feeling very put out, Spike sighed and reached out and pressed his thumb to a different part of her foot.  Buffy's eyes shot up to his in surprise as the pain ebbed away.

 

"What are you doing?"  She scowled at him suspiciously. 

 

"Pressure points on your body.  Some feel bad, some feel good...” He got a saucy glint in his eye and his index finger suddenly putting pressure on the spot he'd pushed a moment before. "...Some feel better!"

 

Before Buffy could snatch her foot away again Spike quickly released that point, concentrating on alleviating the pain instead.

 

"How do you know that?"  Buffy asked; an inflection of anger in her betraying breathy tone.

 

"Been around two hundred years, you tend to learn a few things."

 

Buffy nodded slowly, her brain preoccupied with their current surroundings, "Where are we?"

 

Spike looked up from her ankle, to which he belatedly realised he was paying far too much attention, to the grassy verges and trees that encompassed them.  In the distance he could see a crude sort of road.  His eyebrows raised a notch at the horse and cart he could see moving in the distance, even as his face remained oddly impassive.

 

A moment of silent reflection passed before Spike finally answered her.  "I don't know but going on what were wearing, if memory serves, we're in England."

 

Buffy looked down at the 1870's restrictive periwinkle blue dress she was attired in, and then over at Spike who actually looked rather tasty in a sharp black suit.  She then frowned at the duster by his side before her eyes fell on her discarded trainers.

 

"Okay, so we don't know where we are, when we are, but I still have my trainers and you still have your duster?"  She asked slightly incredulous at the whole notion.

 

“Sounds about the score of it, love...maybe the wanker who dumped us here thought it'd be nice to leave us with something from home?"

 

"Well, since he left me here with you I'm thinking ‘nice’ didn't really enter the equation."  Buffy easily rejoined and her scowling eyes snapped back to his.

 

 "Oh, my heart bleeds."  A glint caught his eye and Spike looked over at the prone Slayer, seeing her suddenly in a whole, overly familiar light.  "Speaking of blood..."

 

"Hold on, truce, remember?"  Buffy put in, uncomfortably aware of the fact that she couldn't feel any stakes on her person.

 

Spike's mind flashed to a few minutes before when they'd been fighting some big mother fucker of a demon and had quickly called a truce when it threatened both of them. 

 

"Oh, yeah, damn."  He muttered.

 

With a reluctant sigh Spike looked up at the darkish sky and saw that morning was almost here, "Right, come on then."  He carefully place down her foot, and with shocking speed replaced her shoe and scooped her off the ground.

 

"Hey, put me down you Billy Idol-wannabe!"  Buffy swatted him on the back of the head as he began to walk.

 

Spike growled quietly, irritated, and spoke in a deep, fast undertone.  "Look, pet, sunrise is almost here and as I see it we have to stick together until we can find a way home, yeah?  So, seeing as you can't walk we'll move a lot quicker if I carry you, agreed?  And since the wanker stole MY look that’s technically incorrect."

 

Buffy scowled at him momentarily.  "Why this way?"  She asked instead, unwilling to agree that he was making a good point.

 

"Because I saw a horse and cart head over that hill, and I can smell food that way."  Spike answered as he began walking, shifting the Slayer slightly in his arms in an attempt to find a more comfortable position.  Not that she was heavy, mind, just slightly awkward to carry in his current garb.

 

"I hope you mean McDonalds and not happy meals on legs."  Buffy’s scowl deepened, but she wrapped her arms around his neck anyway.  *Just to make sure I don’t fall.*  She rationalised in her mind.

 

Spike just grinned evilly at her and said nothing.

 

 

 

Part Two

 

 

~~ Day One ~~ 

 

They walked for nearly two hours in complete, deadening silence, coming ever closer to the large stately home they could see on the horizon.  Finally they reached the impressive building, and were shocked to be greeted by the sound of a woman shouting over at them in a non-threatening way.

 

"Miss Elizabeth!"  A plump, kindly looking woman rushed from the house as Spike carried Buffy down the large gravel driveway, her skirts almost catching between her legs with every step she took.

 

"Elizabeth?"  Spike drawled at the surprised look on Buffy's face.  He’d wager she was more shocked from the use of her real name then the woman calling them.

 

"Oh, shut up!"  Buffy hissed back just as the woman greeted them, elbowing the Vampire into silence the second the woman was within hearing range.

 

"Oh, my dear, what have you done?"  She asked, breathlessly but kindly as she looked over the girl as best she could.

 

Buffy stuttered, for the first time completely lost for words.  "I, uh..."

 

"Mr. Dartmoore, sir, if you could be so kind as to take her to your room I'll get the doctor."  The woman flushed, evidently embarrassed by her over familiar behaviour with Buffy.  "I'm afraid Tom's back was playing up earlier and I sent him to lie down.  I'll call Jane."  She added as an after thought.

 

Before either could speak the woman rushed away, moments later a younger woman emerged from the house.  Without a word she opened the door for them, her head meekly bowed.

 

"William...Dartmoore?"   Buffy asked with a giggle when she too noticed the deer-in-the-headlights look on the Vampire’s face.

 

"Shut up!"  Spike growled under his breath.

 

As soon as they had passed, the young girl rushed up the stairs to open the proceeding doors they had to pass through to get to 'the bedroom'.

 

"Way wiggy."  Buffy whispered, looking over Spike's shoulder to see what appeared to be another servant moving across the hall, carrying a tray of tea to where they were headed.  He too had his gaze politely averted from Buffy’s eyes.  Though he did smile at her for a split second before resuming his austere posture.

 

"Bloody Hell!"  Spike murmured and Buffy turned her head back in the right direction, only to be met in astonishment with the most beautiful room she could ever imagine.  It was at least four times the size of her room in Sunnydale, if not more.  In the centre of it, a king-size four-poster bed proudly stood presented with plush pillows and plump quilts and sheets.  Cream linen drapes hung from the beams in sweeps and swirls above the bed.  The rest of the room was similarly decorated with oak furniture that looked in itself to be at least a hundred years old, but had not waned in its magnificence.

 

However, the beauty of the room was not what had captured Spike's attention.  On the far wall, opposite the bed was a picture of two people most obviously in love.  The artist had managed to capture every nuance of their individual features and from every pore of the painting, happiness and love was exuded.  The painting itself had been lovingly encased in an oak of a similar standard to that of the furniture in the rest of the room.

 

On a golden plaque beneath the picture had been etched;

 

‘To my dearest friends, Elizabeth and William, may I only hope to find a love half as strong as yours ~ Edward.’

 

"Woah…"  Buffy murmured, her mouth a pretty ‘o’ of surprise.  She barely had time to take in the rest of the room and its lavish but tasteful decorations before she was laid down on the unbelievably comfortable bed. 

 

Thinking quickly as he assessed the situation, when Spike placed her gently on the bed he murmured into her ear, "Here, love, play up the concussion memory loss thing till we know where we are."

 

"Ah, my dear Mrs. Dartmoore what have you done this time?"  The old man you stood in the doorway had a pleasant face and a warm smile that made Buffy instantly relax.

 

Remembering what Spike had said she put on a suitable frown, and asked, quite truthfully perplexed, "Who are you?"

 

At the plump woman's gasp, the Doctor smiled softly, "My name is Benjamin Harker.  Doctor Harker.  Did you hit you're head when you fell?"  He asked Buffy but looked at Spike for confirmation.

 

"Yes, she did."  Spike answered, "I think she's twisted her ankle.  She knows who I am, but she can't seem to remember much else."

 

Dr. Harker smiled indulgently once again, "Don't worry Elizabeth, you are always having your little tumbles, although usually you remember more than your husband.  No fear, you'll be as right as rain in a few days."  He let go of her foot and it was the first time Buffy realised that he had been wrapping it up in a bandage.

 

"Your name is Elizabeth Dartmoore, you are eighteen years of age.  You live here at Heartfield House with your husband William.  William, is twenty-four and has just finished studying to be a doctor.  You remember William has a sun allergy?"

 

"Yes."  Buffy smiled ruefully with a wry glance over at the vamp in question.  "Didn't forget that."

 

"Good."  Dr. Harker smiled, and continued to secure her ankle as he check her over for any other injuries.

 

In the background the maid secured the drapes across the window, and it was then that both Buffy and Spike noticed how thick they were, despite their light appearance.

 

Suddenly Buffy spoke.  "My parents?"  Joyce flashed into her mind along with the sorrow-full possibility of never seeing her again but she pushed it away, focusing like a true Slayer on the problem at hand.

 

The Doctor's voice lowered and he took her hand in his as his eyes turned sorrowful in compassion. "Your parents died four years ago, Lizzy.  Mabel looked after you, she is now your maid, do you remember?"

 

"A little, thank you."  Again pushing away the sharp pain she had felt at the doctors careful words, Buffy smiled.

 

Harker’s jovial tone returned but it was a little more forced than before.  "Not to worry."  He looked up at Spike as he straightened.  "Everything should be right as rain in a day or so.  Keep that foot rested, I'll have Mabel bring you up your meals."

 

"Thank you, Doctor."  Spike replied automatically and then moved as though instinctively to see him out.

 

Harker waved him back down.  "Not to worry, I'll let you stay with the invalid."  With another smile he and the nurse both left, closing the door behind them.

 

Buffy sat up in bed as Spike perched on the other end.  "Bloody Hell."  He muttered softly looking across at her.

 

She let out a long sigh as she met his eyes.  “You can say that again.”

 

“Bloody hell.”  Spike rejoined deadpan.

 

“Funny.”  Buffy rolled her eyes, and then allowed them to rest on the bedspread that she straightened absently. 

 

"Okay, so lets knock it down."  Buffy decided as she quickly took charge of the situation.  "In this time or this world we exist but not as Vampire and Slayer.  But you, or 'William', has a sun allergy."

 

Spike snorted at that.  "Well, at least you won't have to explain why I'm missing and there's a big pile of dust in your bed come morning."

 

"Does that mean our counterparts are in our world or are they likely to turn up here?"  Buffy asked, ignoring him and his words as she continued to hypothesise out the situation.

 

"Don't know, don't care."  Spike yawned carelessly and kicked off his shoes.  Within moments he was stretched out next to Buffy on the bed, his eyes closed.

 

Buffy stared in shock at him for a moment.  "Hey!  Go find your own bed!"  She prodded him sharply.  "This is my bed!"

 

"This is our bed, pet!"  He grinned at her sleepily, the time of day catching up on him.  "Don't worry you're pretty little head, I'm not going to eat you.  Truce, remember?"

 

"Okay...but keep to your side."  She muttered, grateful that the nurse had already dressed her for bed and that she was all covered up considering how revealing her 'night dress' was.

 

“Or demand you perform your wifely duties.”  Spike continued with a saucy grin as if she hadn’t spoke.

 

“Eeewwww!”  Buffy moaned then hit him.  Hard.

 

Spike laughed, then reached over to tip her head off her pillow, watching in amusement when she resurfaced with the worst bed-hair ever.

 

Buffy didn’t say anything, but primly tucked her hair behind her ears and turned on her side, her nose up in the air in true female Victorian style.

 

With a final chuckle, Spike shrugged out of his jacket and removed the belt from his trousers.  Since he couldn't feel any underpants he figured he'd better sleep in his trousers if he didn’t want to wake up a big pile of dust, and settled for removing just his shirt before slipping under the covers.

 

He closed his eyes, his superior awareness picking up the Slayer’s scent, heartbeat and breathing.  He could feel the heat radiating off her and had an inexplicable urge to hold her.  Putting it down to simply the novelty of having a warm body, Spike closed his eyes allowing sleep to claim him.

 

 

~~ Day Two ~~

 

 

Buffy awoke the next day feeling much refreshed.  Her ankle was no longer throbbing and she experimentally moved it, happy to find her flexing came without the side dish of pain that the previous nights’ activities had forced her to order.  Her eyes opened languidly, her body far too secure and comfortable in its current position to get up completely.  Her eyes locked on the carriage clock on the bedside and she sighed at the time, two o'clock.

 

She figured it was the afternoon, but since it had no neat little red light to reassure her, and the curtains were so heavy that they let no light in at all, she couldn’t be totally sure.

 

Deciding that she really should get up and begin to try to find a way home, Buffy tried to get up and do just that.  Only she found she had a slight problem.

 

She couldn't move. 

 

The Slayer realised with a gasp that far from being wrapped up securely in the heavy covers she was wrapped up securely in Spike's arms.

 

She shook all over as a shiver of God only knew what ran through her, and tried desperately to tug herself away but the arms around her tightened and Spike groaned, "Oh, stay still, pet."

 

"Spike!"  Buffy hissed, her face red with embarrassment now that she found it was not only herself who knew she had been in this more than compromising position.  "Let go!"

 

"Come on, ducks, you're like a hot water bottle."  Spike murmured, not fully awake even as he snuggled closer.  "All soft and warm...” His hands slid down her side and then up her thighs, resting around her stomach, hands splayed out with his fingertips rubbing small circles against the silk of her night dress as if to demonstrate the point.

 

His face was buried in the base of her neck and she jumped as he nipped the skin there with blunt teeth.

 

There was a knock at the door and that caused both to start slightly in shock – as if they had only just remembered where they were, and when - though Spike didn't relinquish his hold on Buffy.  The door opened a crack and then fully.  Mabel, the head maid, walked in carrying a large breakfast tray complete with an enormous array of breakfast foods.

 

"Good afternoon, Miss Elizabeth, Mr Dartmoore.”  Mabel began primly.  “I thought you might like a spot of lunch, but Doctor Harker said that you were both to rest after the long night so I didn't wake you."  She looked at them almost timidly as she placed the tray on the end of the bed.  From this angle they could now see that there were two trays that could be detached from the bottom, both complete with empty plates.

 

"Thank you, Mabel.  Um, we can do this."  Buffy said, smiling kindly.

 

"Very good, madam, sir."  With that the maid left them, closing the door behind her.

 

"Well..." Spike began.

 

Buffy wriggled in his grasp, "Spike!  Let go of me!"

 

His arms tightened for a moment then released her entirely as he sat up, reaching for the tray.  He pulled it closer and Buffy gasped at the food.

 

There were two large pitchers, one of orange juice, the other of a strangely deep red colour and three glasses.  There was steaming coffee with cream and sugar.  The food consisted of roast chicken and beef, potatoes; both mashed and roasted, and various vegetables.  There was also a selection of fruits, including various summer berries.

 

Stunned, Buffy took the glass of orange juice Spike handed to her then watched him pour the red stuff into a second glass.

 

"Okay, is that what I think it is?"  She asked, too hungry to be bothered if it was as she began spooning out stuff onto her plate.

 

"Blood, pet.  Warm and human as well."  He grinned at her.  "Think we're missing a maid?"

 

"This isn't funny!"  Buffy giggled none the less.  Putting her plate on one of the smaller trays she sat back against the pillows.

 

Between them the food was quickly demolished and Buffy collapsed back to the pillows with a sigh, burrowing her head in them.

 

"You know, I don't think I've ever been this relaxed."  She breathed and Spike chuckled.  "Which is weird since I'm in a different time, in a different country, in a strange house, in bed with my mortal enemy."  When Spike chuckled again she blushed.  "Well, not in bed but...you get the idea."

 

"Yeah, pet."  He lay back, propping himself up on one hand so that he could still see her amongst the pillows.  "How about we stay put for a couple of days.  I heard one of the maids saying they're going to town next Friday, preparing for a party on Saturday."

 

Buffy's ears perked up. "A party?  Where?"

 

"How the fuck should I know, Slayer!"  Spike exasperated. "The point is we can get someone to take us with them and then find someone to take us home."

 

"How are we going to find someone?  We don't know where we are."  Buffy asked.

 

Spike's face rippled to that of the demon inside him, "Pet, I'm over two hundred years old."  His face morphed back.  "Most of that time I spent in England, I know every town inside out."

 

She yawned.  "Okay, good, so you can be tour guide."  Buffy burrowed her face back into the pillow and closed her eyes, "Gonna sleep, now, 'kay?"

 

Spike smiled, "Okay, pet."

 

 

 

Part Three

 

 

 

~~ Day Five ~~

 

 

"I'm bored!"  Buffy declared with a flourish as she entered what she now knew to be the drawing room where Spike sat reading a newspaper.

 

"Why don't you go riding again, ducks?"  Spike asked with the calm indulgence that putting up with Drusilla for over a century had brought him.

 

The day before Buffy had been asked if she was well enough to do her usual Wednesday-morning ride.  So thrilled at being able to do something she'd dreamed about for years she had ridden all day resulting in a very sore back.  Mabel, who she'd discovered had been 'her' nanny, had kindly run her a hot, luxurious bubble bath with some American products they'd apparently ordered the month before.  This was when Spike had deemed it a good idea to come and have a chat.  However, the bubbles were evaporating almost as quickly as Buffy's patience and she eventually splashed him to get him to leave.

 

"Apparently it rained all night and it was pointed out to me that I didn't want to get all muddy."  She collapsed into the couch opposite Spike and eyed him with a frown.  "I thought you were supposed to be the hyper one and there you are calmly reading a newspaper while I'm bouncing off the walls!"

 

"A) I'm not hyper.  B) You're hardly bouncing off the walls.  C) The newspaper is informing me of the fact that it is you and I, my pet, who are having a party, next Saturday.  Also, we're in Yorkshire.  It's the 22nd of July, 1872."

 

Suddenly Buffy’s eyes brightened.  "We're having a party?" 

 

"I love what you pick up on…"  Spike muttered, and then said more loudly.  "Yes, pet, us, you and me, here, in this house in eight days."

 

"I need a dress, if we're still here."

 

"Apparently you chose it last week; Mabel put it on the bed if you needed to be reminded of it."  At Buffy's questioning look, Spike explained.  "I figured that would be your first question so I asked."

 

"You know you're taking the whole time travel thing pretty lightly, don't you want to go home?"

 

"Um, let me think.  Should I go back to my pissed off girlfriend in good ol' Sunnyhell or should I be happy with my holiday where I can relax.  Tough choice.”  Spike rolled his eyes sarcastically, then rounded on the Slayer.  “Anyway, you don't seem to be too put out by the change of events, Miss Summers."

 

"It's kinda like living in a fairy tale house isn't it?"  Buffy asked quietly.  "I think it’s pretty and so far the only demon I've seen is you.  Which in my book is a dramatic decrease."

 

"Maybe you need a holiday too."  Spike suggested softly, his eyes staring into her thoughtful ones and even though he knew she wasn’t really looking at him he felt his heart jump.

 

"Maybe I do."  Buffy murmured, completely unaware of the Vampire’s impossible anatomical developments as she wondered out of the room lost in memories of hardened times.

 

 

~~~ Day Thirteen – Friday ~~~

 

 

The sun had just set beneath the hills when Spike awoke.  He yawned and stretched out slightly before drawing the warm body in front of him closer still, ignoring the nagging pain in the back of his head that told him this was wrong...

 

This had pretty much become their routine.  They'd wake in the late morning, wrapped up in each other.  She'd yell at him before they went down to have breakfast.  His days consisted pretty much of working his way through the extensive library since there was no television.  While hers’ was spent out with the horses or lazing in the garden under the sun. 

 

They would meet for lunch around two in the afternoon and usually spend the remainder of the afternoon playing cards until Buffy got sick of Spike winning and threw them at him in disgust.  A couple of hours to sunset, Spike would return to their room, the time of day catching up with the Vampire, and then he would sleep till sunset.  More out of boredom then need, Buffy had taken to having siestas around the same time.  In fact, she’d noticed she was doing almost more sleeping then she had in her entire life.  Buffy just brushed it off as catching up on all those years of sleepless slaying nights, even though she knew…she worried that it was something a lot more sinister…something she wasn’t ready to admit.

 

Spike looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms and silently sighed.  He liked her far too much.  And he liked having her, here, in his arms even more.  Tonight was the night they would go into town and hopefully find a way back home.  Spike wasn't even sure if he wanted to find a way back home.  He meant what he'd said to the Slayer the other day.  Frankly, he was having way too much fun here. 

 

*With her.* His brain taunted him, then immediately became silent as the Slayer moved.

 

"Hmmm....” Buffy yawned and turned in the arms holding her, rubbing her face into the coolness in front of her.  She was already awake, Spike's movements having woken her, but she pretended to be asleep so she could enjoy the gentle embrace that she was so used to waking in.

 

Normally, she would get straight up but today was different.  Tonight they were off to town to look for a way home.  Most of her wanted to go home; the sensible part.  However, an ever-increasing part wanted to stay just a little longer.

 

Anyway, she was still sleepy…so sleepy; surely it wasn't time to go yet?  Her mind felt fuzzy and wasn’t willing to wake up.

 

And as red-hot pain shot to her temples and in between her brows that traitorous part took over her faculties entirely.

 

"You awake, pet?"  Spike's soft voice broke Buffy into reality and she cringed in pain as the heat shot at her again with the sound of his voice.

 

"Nuggh..." 

 

Spike relinquished his hold on her as she sat up, pressing her cool fingers against her eyes; trying to recreate the same conditions her comfort levels were so attuned to.

 

"Pet?"  Spike frowned when she just groaned softly, her hands against her face.  His improved hearing picked up her heartbeat and the Vampire was shocked at the speed at which it was beating. 

 

"Are you okay?"   She shook her head then groaned again as pain shot through her skull, tears begging to escape from her eyes, but for some unknown reason her body wouldn’t allow her that release.

 

"Come here."  With a gentleness she'd been slowly encountering with him, Spike carefully cupped her shoulders, easing them both back down to the soft, fluffy pillows that Buffy had found after that first night on all-too-firm rocks masquerading as pillows.

 

"Ugh!  This really hurts...” Buffy whimpered, her hands still clutching her head.

 

Spike carefully leant her against the crook of his shoulder, both hands coming around her to allow cool fingertips to gently massage her temples.  Slowly the pain that was so strongly etched on her face began to ebb and he felt her body start to relax once more.   Her heart rate began to slow, although not to a normal rate.

 

"Mmmm, that feels so good, Spike...” Buffy mumbled drowsily, half asleep as she fell under the spell of his magical fingers.

 

The Vampire watched as the Slayer drifted asleep, his never-tiring hands continually massaging her head.  She murmured something soft in her sleep, snuggling back into his chest and Spike sighed in unabashed contentment.

 

Suddenly he frowned, and something clicked in his brain and he brought one of his hands to her forehead, letting his sensitive skin test her temperature.  She felt hot.  Well, she always felt hot to his touch but now her skin was burning up.  Her heartbeat was slower in her slumber but her skin was of a sickly pallor and held a sheen of perspiration, indicating a fever.

 

Recalling the medical training he had undertaken in his youth, and the knowledge he had acquired over the centuries Spike concluded that if she had fever then she needed to be kept warm; in order to sweat the fever out so-to-speak. 

 

Dragging the heavier quilt that lay at the bottom of the bed over them both, the Vampire cuddled Buffy’s now shaking body closer to his.  For the first time since Prague, Spike felt fear.

 

Two hours later the maid, Mabel, came to remind them that they were heading into town.  Immediately upon seeing Buffy's illness brought another blanket and thick bed-socks to keep her feet warm.  She told Spike that she would have the cook make up some chicken broth and that he was not to worry.

 

Before she left Spike reminded her of the party they were due to hold the following day. 

 

Mabel had replied, "I'll get Tom to contact your guests and postpone the party due to Miss Elizabeth's illness.  How long shall I tell him?"

 

"Make it in two weeks time.  Give her time to recover."  Spike had decided and with that the maid had left, leaving the Vampire to nurse the sick Slayer alone in 'their' bed.

 

 

 

Part Four

 

 

~~~ Day Sixteen ~~~

 

 

"Come on, kitten, this'll make you feel better."  Spike tried to place the cold, damp rag over Buffy’s forehead.

 

"No...No, silly, Spike.  You can't play with the kitten!"  Buffy batted at Spike's hand, her eyes dilated and obvious not with it.

 

The Vampire sighed.  Yesterday it had seemed that the fever was disappearing but after the thunderstorm last night the blonde Slayer seemed to go into a relapse and was quite frankly delirious.

 

Suddenly, she began shaking uncontrollably and Spike dropped the cloth, quickly pulling the covers over her in an attempt to both warm her and make her feel safe.  She began to sob quietly and Spike wrapped his arms around the bundle of covers, cooing softly to her that everything was fine, it was alright – and nothing was going to hurt her here...

 

An hour later the maid returned at Spike’s bequest. "Sir, you called?"

 

"Yes, about the party.  I was thinking it might be wise to cancel it altogether.  Buffy is still too unwell."  Spike said properly, slipping all too easily into his accent of birth.

 

"Oh, sir, I'm sorry to hear that.  I'll make the arrangements immediately."  Mabel looked unhappy, but Spike knew it was not from lack of a party but that her unhappiness was fashioned from worry – worry over her mistress.  And his like for the woman grew.

 

 

~~~ Day Twenty-five ~~~

 

 

Slowly Buffy became aware of her surroundings – the low lights, the almost suffocating warmth of the blankets counteracted by the coolness of the hard body behind her.  Her whole body ached, as though she’d just been up against the Master again.  And her head felt heavy, though she could tell it was from coming out of the strength of illness that hadn’t ailed her in years rather than entering said illness.

 

Wait - hard body? 

 

"Spike...?"

 

"Buffy?"  Spike sighed in relief as two tired, but lucid blue-green eyes focused on him for the first time in what was now literally weeks.  "How you feelin', pet?"

 

"Like someone ran a truck over me twice then left me in the Sahara for a week."  She croaked, her throat feeling like she had never before used it.

 

"Here, drink this."  Spike handed her a glass of juice, keeping his hand close in case it dropped.  He knew she was the Slayer, but her illness of the past days had him confused and worried – both about her physical state… and his reaction to her.   She took a tentative sip as she tested out her responses.  When all was good she steadily drank until it was all gone.

 

"More?"  Spike asked quietly, not wanting to disturb her as he was sure her head still hurt.

 

"Please."  Buffy nodded and gratefully accepted the full glass.  When she had finished her third glass she let him meekly take it from her fingers.  "What happened?"

 

"You've been ill for the last two weeks.  Doc said it was a cross between the flu and plain out exhaustion."  Spike explained, his worried eyes belaying his calm tone.  "You should take it easy for a bit more, pet.  Don't want a relapse."

 

"Two weeks?"  Buffy murmured, surprise evident in bother voice and face, as Spike eased her back on to the pillows.  "What about the party?  Going into town?"

 

"Don't fret, love, we rebooked the thing for next week.  Only we'll not be holding it.  Nick will."

 

"Nick?" Buffy’s still-fuzzy mind was having problems following Spike’s explanation.  She still needed sleep…

 

"Never mind.  We'll check ourselves out in five days.  Just go back to sleep; you'll feel better in the morning."

 

"I like it when you’re nice…” Buffy muttered absently, falling asleep once again.

 

Spike stared down at her, his head shaking every so slightly; incredulous.  Nice.  They had to get out of there…and fast.

 

 

~~~ Day Thirty ~~~

 

 

"Mabel, I'm really worried about this party.  I know I sound a complete klutz but I have no idea who’s going to be there, or what it's for!"  Buffy flustered, trying her best not to use 20^th Century terminology through her confusion.

 

The maid looked down kindly at Buffy, "Not to worry, Eliza.  The party is a welcome for you.  I'm afraid I don't know who will be there, though I suppose the neighbourhood is as good an option as any."  Mabel mused, half to herself.

 

"You mean… the party is for us?  So, we won't know anyone there?"  Suddenly, everything began to calm in Buffy at the delicious concept.  There was only so long they could continue with this ‘memory loss’ charade before people became suspicious.  As it was they were beyond lucky that they had landed when they had.

 

"Exactly, madam.  Except of course for Mr. Nicolas Berkshire.  Mr. Dartmoore spoke to him while you were unwell.  It is Mr. Berkshire that intends to hold the party."  And with those wonderful words the last of Buffy’s worries flew out of the window…

 

"Thank you.  I was worried I was forgetting more than usual!"  The elderly maid smiled at the Slayer indulgently and took her leave.

 

---

 

"Ready, ducks?"  Spike asked from the doorway, trying his hardest to control the impulse to peek.

 

Buffy stood out of view behind the tall, dark cupboard door, "Yeah, just a minute, I can't tie this bloody thing up!"

 

Spike chuckled, a masculine sound deep within his chest.

 

"What?!"  Buffy cried agitatedly, she was already nervous and he wasn’t helping!  AND the bloody thing would tie!

 

"You said, 'Bloody', love.  We've been together too long."

 

Buffy snorted in a very unlady-like way that made Spike grin even wider.  "Yeah, well, it’s not just me.  Yesterday you said the trees looked 'wiggy'.  Oh, would you just help me or get lost; you’re distracting me!"  She finally growled, her hands dropping agitatedly from the dress ties she had stupidly untied after Mabel had left so she could breathe…then realised she needed in order to keep the thing up!

 

Spike finally stopped teasing her.  "What do you need?" 

 

"Tie me."  Buffy stepped out from the cupboard and gasped, taking in the sharp dinner-suit.  "Wow, you clean up well."

 

Spike cleared his throat unnecessarily, and tried to keep his eyes from dipping down the low cut of her dress, which seemed to just glide over the Slayer's skin like liquid silk. "You too, Slayer...you, too."

 

 

 

Part Five

 

 

 

"Look guys, can we finish this tomorrow?  It's really late and we don't even know where we're going to stay."  Buffy called a halt to the proceedings after several yawns had interrupted her flow of speech.

 

"Why can't you just go home and dead boy junior find some crypt to spend the night?"  Xander asked, pointing an ingratiating thumb in Spike's general direction.

 

"Because, Xander, it hasn't been my home for over a year and I'm not spending a night away from my husband."  Buffy returned sharply, squeezing the hand around her waist in reassurance.

 

"Buffy."  Giles attempted to bring an end to the aggression.  "If your mother knows where you are, you and Spike are welcome to spend the night here."  He let this sink in, holding up a hand to shut Xander up before he attempted to clarify.  "Have you spoken to your mother?"

 

"We saw her before you, which is why we came so late.  She understood.  Which is more than I can say for the friends who should be used to all this."  Hurt sprung into the Slayer’s eyes as she regarded her once-friends.

 

"Buffy, please don't be mad with us.  It’s just, for us, you've been missing only four days.  And this is a lot to take in, on faith."  Willow said gently, trying her best not to offend her friend while trying to explain as best she could.

 

"I know this is a shock, and I'll gladly explain it all tomorrow; you can research the demon - look for where it sent us.  But, I'm so tired right now....” Her eyes dropped to her lap, a silent tear falling from one of them as the emotional situation overtook her.  She really had never anticipated that time would have gone so much slower in SunnyHell.  She should have – yet another way for the Hell Mouth to fuck her over.

 

"Right, that’s it."  Spike picked Buffy up as he stood.  "Watcher?  You said we could stay here, where did you have in mind?"

 

"Hey wait a minute...” Xander cut in heatedly, ready to object as always.

 

"Look, boy, I really don't give a fuck what you have to say but the Slayer wanted you here.  If you gave a damn about her you'd see how tired she is and leave the fuck off."  Spike growled, his face morphing momentarily at the threat to his mate before it settled back into his smoother features.

 

"Quite."  Giles murmured, unable to find himself anything but grateful to the Vampire for shutting Xander up.  "I was thinking the spare room; it’s down the hall passed the bathroom.  First door on the left."

 

Without another word Spike nodded and walked out of the room, the Slayer limp and compliant in his arms.

 

The moment they were out of the room Xander started again.  "You know, I can't believe you're trusting this guy!"

 

"Xander!  We have no idea where they have been or what has happened to them.  One thing is for certain; they are no longer enemies and evidently Buffy has had to rely upon Spike and he upon her.  Despite what we think we have no other option but to accept him.  If you continue with your hampering you will only push her further away.  Have I made myself clear?"  Giles' eyes bore into the boy who nodded meekly. 

 

The Watcher took his acceptance, but knew this was not the last of it.  Never would be, not while Xander retained his ridiculous crush on Buffy.

 

"Very well.  Willow, if it is not too much trouble do you think you could hunt around on the Internet for the demon Buffy described?  I will look through my books, but there’s something unfamiliar about it that make me think I won't find it."

 

"Sure, Giles.  I'll see you in the library, tomorrow?"

 

"Yes, goodnight all."

 

With a chorus' of goodbyes the gang left the Watcher to his silent contemplation. In the background he could hear the Vampire and his Slayer talking softly, but he couldn’t pick up any of the words. He sighed, picked up the voluminous book on time-travelling demons and slowly moved up the stairs to bed and a much needed drink.

 

---

 

"Has everyone gone?"  Buffy asked Spike, who was undressing, when it all seemed to go quiet.

 

"Yeah, only the Watcher and he's gone upstairs."  He dropped the last article of clothing on to the chair near the bed and slid under the covers next to Buffy, pulling her body to his as he did.

 

"Thank god.  I don't think I could have handled the looks any longer."  Buffy sank back, snuggling against Spike's side; her head on his chest as he stroked her loose hair.  She yawned and spoke at the same time, tiredness not quite taking over her need for reassurance that they were still, and would always be, together.  "What are we going to do tomorrow?"

 

"Well we can't live here, so we'll start on that."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I'll find us someplace to live."  Spike murmured, kissing the top of her head.

 

Buffy smiled, once again completely secure in her marriage.  "How?  We don't have any money."

 

"Pet, I've got two hundred years worth of savings in the bank.  I think the term that would best describe our finances is healthy."

 

"Really, how healthy?"  Buffy murmured.

 

"I'm worth around twenty-seven million pounds.  Which is about forty-three million dollars.  Or something like that."  Spike replied flippantly, not in the least bothered about his obvious wealth.

 

"You’re kidding."  She sat up to look him in the eye, noting no element of tease…well, other than the usual he had around her.  "You're serious?"

 

"Uh huh."

 

"Wow!  I married a millionaire."  She giggled, pressed a kiss to his side and closed her eyes in obvious relief, comforted by the fact that in that sense they were safe.  After all it could only be counted as sheer luck that they had encountered upon a time where 'they' already existed and had many people ready to welcome them back 'home'.

 

 

---

 

  

"I don't get it Giles.  If it all happened in a different dimension how can there be a modern marriage certificate.  Look at the renewal date; it’s this year."  Willow tapped the computer screen in front of her.

 

Giles rubbed his fingers against his forehead, glancing around the library.  "Can you find out the original date?  You said it had been renewed."

 

"Yeah, okay.... hold on one minute."  Willow typed several keys and clicked enter.  "Wow...June, 1871."

 

"My God, Buffy said the year they arrived was 1872, I believe, so for all intents and purposes they have been married nearly a hundred and thirty years."  Giles blew out a stream of hot air and removed his glasses.  "This is all very beguiling."

 

"I'll say!"  Xander exclaimed as he entered the library.  "I just saw Spike and the Buffster making out on your couch, G-man."  He handed Giles the book the Watcher had requested and slumped down next to Willow.

 

Giles replaced his cleaned glasses and made a face, "I did not need to know that."  He muttered, leafing through the book in his hands.  "Did they say when they would be coming down?"

 

"Right now."  Buffy stated as she led Spike in from the stacks.

 

"Buffy?  Did you get remarried while you were gone?"  Willow asked, frowning.

 

"Yeah.  Why?"  Buffy responded, staring puzzled over at how the Wicca knew that, as Spike pulled her down on top of him.

 

"I just found a copy of your marriage certificate.  And its renewal is dated this year."  Willow tapped the computer then turned the monitor around so that the Vampire and Slayer could see what she was seeing.

 

"I don't get it.  How can it be this year when we were re-married in 1873?"  Buffy asked turning her frown on the room momentarily, before she settled it on her husband for answers – a revealing action that wasn’t lost on the Watcher.

 

Nevertheless, Giles answered.  "To be perfectly honest with you Buffy, I'm still not quite sure.  We have yet to have found any information about the demon you described.  It is impossible to discern how much longer it will take."  He finished with a helpless shrug, looking apologetically at his ward.

 

The library doors swung open and a green-haired werewolf walked in with a large book in his hand, "I found the demon."

 

"Apparently, not that long."  Xander muttered, taking a big bite of one of the donuts he'd brought with him.

 

 

Part Six

 

 

~~~ Day Thirty - At the party... ~~~

 

 

 

 

"Come now Elizabeth, are you and your delightful husband not to grace the floor with your presence?"

 

Buffy smiled at the elderly gentlemen and was about to answer when his wife, Virginia - *bloody stupid name* - who looked to be not much older than herself, sauntered up to him.  She was wearing a dress that was so plastered on that even by today's standards it was verging on indecent.

 

"I love to dance."  She stated, sending an obviously flirtatious smile to Spike unbothered that her husband might see.

 

Buffy scowled when she saw Spike return it, imagining sharp bits of wood meeting with squashy bits of Vampire.  *Stupid hormone filled Vampire.*

 

"I know my dear."  Mr. Carting patted her hand in sympathy.  "I'm afraid I'm a little past the dancing age."  He smiled gently at Buffy who forced her lips to turn up into a smile she certainly didn't feel.

 

"Perhaps Mr. Dartmoore could appease me."  The voluptuous woman suggested, licking her rouged lips very, very slowly as she continued to stare hotly into Spike's eyes.

 

Spike didn't have to look at the Slayer to feel the jealousy radiating off her in waves.  He smirked at the thought of the Slayer being so possessive!  And of him!

 

"Gladly."  He smiled at her; taking the hand the woman's husband gave him and led her to the dance floor.

 

Buffy silently fumed as she watched Spike wrap his arms around another woman.  Some other man’s wife!

 

"Your husband is an excellent dancer, Elizabeth."  Carting remarked, seemingly completely unaware of his wife’s obvious betrayal.

 

"Yes."  Buffy replied tightly, not taking her furious eyes from the couple on the dance floor.  She’d swear she growled when the woman ran her fingers down Spike's jacket, stroking their way from his body as the song ended.

 

"I was happy to find that your health has im-” He was cut off by his wife's presence.

 

"I feel a trifle...hot."  The still un-known woman stated as they returned to a very pissed off Slayer and stupidly happy elderly man.

 

"Maybe you should go.... you know, get some fresh air."  Buffy stated, loosing her fake olde English accent as her anger clouded her.  If someone had stopped to ask her, she would have been unable to explain just why she was so angry.

 

"Maybe Mr. Dartmoore could accompany me...we were having the most interesting.... conversation."  She ended slowly, letting Buffy know that they weren't talking.

 

Her husband seemed ever oblivious, "An excellent idea, my dear."

 

"Um...” Spike suddenly felt trapped, he looked to Buffy for help, but she just sent him a scowl.  He'd only danced with the woman to see whether the jealousy he'd noted at dinner had been real or a figment of his imagination.  "I...uh, yes!"  He elated as he found an excuse.  "I promised Buff-uh, Elizabeth that I would show her the Billiard Room - she has been anxious to learn how to play."

 

"Really?"  Virginia questioned, haughtily looking down her nose at the prettier woman, "What a masculine sport to wish to delve into."

 

"Always preferred a game with a bit more...bite."  Buffy stated glaring at the woman.

 

Spike was hard pressed not to laugh, "If you'll excuse us."

 

"Of course."  Mr. Carting agreed amiably, smiling at them both.

 

"Enjoy your evening."  Spike completed, taking Buffy's arm and leading her out of the room.

 

As soon as they were out into the quiet hallway Buffy pulled away from him violently stomping ahead in the direction of the Billiard Room, which their host had provided for them.

 

"Buffy, love...” Spike tried not to laugh, but it escaped his mouth as he spoke, only causing her to double her steps. "...wait up, pet!"

 

"Stupid, arrogant, egotistical, hormone-driven, pig of a Vampire."  Buffy muttered as she slammed open the door to the poolroom, Spike quick on her heels.

 

Spike watched silently as with angry, jerky movements she arranged to the table for them to play, relieved at least that she was willing to play.

 

"Shall I break?"  Spike asked, his voice as inoffensive as he could make it in deference to the obviously wildly pissed off Slayer.

 

He cringed as she sent the white ball spinning down the table at his words.  It smashed into the other balls, sending them all flying in odd directions, but none entered a pocket.

 

"Do you want to play snooker or pool?"  Spike asked, wisely not stating a preference, as he knew she would only choose the other just to spite him.

 

Again she didn't respond, but she lined up another ball and took the shot.

 

It bounced off the sides and zigzagged down the table, neatly avoiding any of the pockets.

 

"Hey!  You didn't hit one in the first time so that was my go!"  Spike whined, glaring at her, his good mood at her jealousy quickly dissipating at her lack of deference to the wonder that was pool (which he'd decided she was attempting to play as she was only aiming for all the colours except red).

 

"I'm the Slayer, I make the rules."  Buffy stated, moving to line up another shot.

 

"No you don't!"  Spike growled, darting around the table, trying to grab her cue.

 

Buffy jumped out of his reach, running around to the other side of the table, ""Why don't you go back to your ho, out there and let me finish my game in peace?!"

 

Spike's anger left as soon as it had arrived, "Jealous, love?"

 

"What?"  Buffy screeched, her eyes blazing. 

 

"I said, are you jealous?"  Spike asked slowly, punctuating his deep words with a step closer to the shocked Slayer.

 

Buffy snorted and tried to laugh, but it came out cold and forced – which of course it was.  "Jealousy?  Of What?  You and Miss. Ho of the century?"

 

"You're jealous...” Spike sang, grinning at her.

 

"I.  Am.  Not.  Jealous."  Buffy growled, glaring at him.

 

"Then why are you trying to bust all the balls?"  Spike enquired with a grin that sent Buffy’s blood levels soaring.  It only widened when he took in her flushed appearance and increased heart rate.  There was a predatory glint in his eyes as he began to move closer to her – she didn’t notice, still lost in anger.  The alcohol and lust in his blood, coupled with her reaction this evening was sending the few inhibitions he had left regarding the Slayer out of the window.

 

"I'll bust your balls."  Buffy muttered to herself.

 

"Pardon, love?"  Spike asked, unable to keep quiet, laughing as she blushed an attractive beet red.

 

"Oh, whatever.  You said you'd teach me so teach me."  Buffy finally snapped out of her jealous anger, for the first time noticing how close he was.  He'd somehow lost his pool cue and had managed to get all the way round the table.  She watched as he stepped closer to her, flattening her body against the side of the table without even touching her.

 

Buffy knew she was breathing hard, she couldn't stop, but she knew she really should.  How wrong was this?  He'd moved his arms either side of her, trapping her there.

 

"What would you like me to teach you, pet?"  Spike was, gazing hotly down at her.  His eyes darting between her wide owl-like eyes and her rouged pouting lips.

 

*Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god...” The litany repeated through her head as she searched for something witty to say.  Unfortunately all she could think about was the hard male body, which was slowly pressing into her.

 

His voice got even huskier, if that was at all possible, as he repeated his question, their lips almost touching, "Would you like me to teach you?"

 

It was a different question altogether, with life-shattering consequences and they both knew it, but they were helpless to do anything about it.

 

Buffy's previously tight grip on her pool cue broke, and the wood tumbled to the ground.  The noise was enough to break her from her stupor and just before his lips touched hers she spoke, "Pool."

 

"Wha'?"  Spike's addled brain attempted to catch up with the conversation.  Had they been talking?

 

"Pool."  Buffy reasserted; her voice stronger.  Spike stood back a step as she stood up straight.  "Teach me how to play pool."

 

"Um...” He cleared his throat as he tried to adjust his painful erection.  "...Okay, pet."

 

Flushed, and still breathing hard Buffy nodded and retrieved her cue as Spike moved to put some distance between them.

 

 

---

 

Back in Sunnydale…

 

 

"Well...” Oz clarified, "I found the demon from a couple of days ago - you know the one that tried to burn Xander alive?"

 

There were a few moments of silence.

 

Buffy stared at the werewolf; she'd never heard him talk that much in one go.

 

Spike sighed and reached for a cigarette - it was gonna be a long night, but, eh, at least Xander almost got fried.

 

Xander paled at the reminder and Cordy rolled her eyes - they were all so lame.

 

Willow smiled encouragingly at her boyfriend as he passed her the book, which she gave to Giles.

 

"Well, that’s good right?"  Willow asked, her voice peppy.

 

"Uh, yes.... excellent."  Giles agreed, put out that they hadn't found the demon that had messed with his Slayer, but trying not to make the usually stoic young man embarrassed.

 

"Xander nearly got fried?"  Buffy asked from her position on Spike's lap.  The Vampire barely looked up as he continued to play with her hair, absently twirling the long, blonde strands around his pale fingers.

 

"Yeah, Buffy, you so should have been there it was all like 'Grrrrr' and I was all like-"

 

Cordy cut of Xander's explanation, "‘Ahhh’.  He screamed like a girl."  She stated to Buffy then looked to Giles, "So what, Blondie over there takes out the red demon while we keep researching?"

 

"Uh, actually...yes."  Giles agreed and the whole room stared at Cordelia in shock.

 

The beauty Queen looked put out.  "What? I can plan."

 

"Yeah, plan your way to the salon."  Xander rejoined snidely, still smarting over her previous divulgence.

 

"At least I go to one.  Who hacks your hair - a blind woodsman?

 

"So, how do I kill the demon?"  Buffy asked, the group ignoring the still bickering couple.

 

"Uh...” Giles quickly scanned the page, "It would appear that you have to tear off its two horns simultaneously." He looked over to the silent guitarist.  "Thank-you Oz, this is really quite helpful, I'd forgotten I had this text."

 

Willow beamed at her boyfriend.

 

"Wow, the Giles-meister missed a book, what are the chances?"  Xander asked, pausing long enough in his 'conversation' with the cheerleader to make an input into the group talk before returning to his argument.

 

Giles glared at the back of Xander's head then moved his eyes to Buffy as she spoke, "Any idea where we find it?"

 

"It nearly flambéed Xander down near that angel statue."  Willow said helpfully.

 

"Oooh, you mean that creepy one whose eyes follow you?"

 

Willow nodded, and curled up her nose. "That’d be the one…"

 

"Right, come on, love.  Demon’s a-waiting!"  Spike lifted Buffy off his lap and took her hand when he also stood.

 

"See you guys later."  Buffy said as she and Spike started to leave.

 

"What?  You're just gonna let her go alone?  He's gonna kill her!"  Everyone cringed at Xander’s outburst, but Buffy misunderstood.

 

"Relax, Xander, I have Spike with me."  Buffy smiled at her honey.

 

"I meant Spike!  Are all you people mad, the second she turns her back he's gonna turn on her like..."

 

The group waited expectantly.  When nothing came and Xander turned bright red from lack of oxygen as he paused Buffy spoke up.

 

"Okay, Xander breathe and get over it.  Spike's not gonna hurt me!  He's my husband, for God's sake!  We'll be back in a bit - hey, why don't you guys check out the Watcher's diary, what was his name, honey?"

 

"Ackerton...Jeffery, I think."

 

"Jeffery Ackerton?"  Giles asked, shocked.

 

"Yeah, you know him?"  Spike looked over at the tweed man.

 

"Well, he's quite renowned - a bit of a rogue Watcher, you might say.   He was nearly killed for cavorting with a vamp-" Realisation hit Giles and he started.  "Good Lord, that must be you!"

 

"See - Peroxide Boy brings no good." 

 

"Oh grow up Xander!" 

 

"Quite.  This is really very...interesting."  The group watched as Giles escaped into his own world and collectively shook their heads.

 

Buffy, quickly recognising that look in her watchers eye as one of research tried to make a hasty exit.  "Ooookay!  We're gonna go now!  See ya later!"  Buffy and Spike turned again to leave, the vamp giving her a thumbs up at her request, still pulling the Slayer out of the library.

 

"Bye, Buffy, Spike...ooh!  Bring back donuts!"  Willow called out as a last thought since it looked like they were going to be here a while.

 

"Hey!  I thought I was donut-guy!"  Xander cried, hurt.

 

"Oh, get over it!"  Cordelia scowled at him.

 

 

Part Seven

 

 

~~~ Day Thirty – Still At The Party… ~~~

 

 

 

"How is it that you have the correct co-ordination to dust demons from twenty metres but you can't knock that big white ball into that big red ball and make it land in the pocket?  I've seen Krevlock demon's with more skill than you."

 

"Hey!"  Buffy glared at him.  "Now I don't know what those Jock demons have to do with anything..."  Spike rolled his eyes. "...But excuse me Mr. Old-as-dirt I haven't been playing this game for like a billion years."

 

"Okay, pet." Spike took in a deep, calming but unneeded breath and removed his dinner jacket, draping it across the back of one of the numerous chairs that lined the four walls of the burgundy room.

 

"Here's what we'll do...” Spike took a quick glance at the table.   "Right, you see that red ball near the top right pocket?"

 

"Umm...” Buffy looked in the direction he pointed. "...Yep.  One red ball check."

 

Spike rolled his eyes but continued without comment, "Good.  Now look at the white ball.  See how it's aligned with the red one."

 

"Yeah.... oooh!  And..."

 

"What?"  Spike asked, genuinely interested.

 

"AND it’s all shiny!  See, the light reflects off it!"

 

"Very funny, pet."  Spike scowled.

 

"I thought so."  Buffy smirked at him.

 

He flipped her off and drawled, "Lets see if you can hit the red ball then."

 

"Okay.... I can hit a heart and a heart is surrounding by that...cagey thing, it's like a heart just more...round."  Buffy finished lamely. 

 

Spike watched amused then ridiculously aroused as the Slayer half leant over the table as she tried to look down the line of what had to be the most simple shot of all time.  His eyes strayed down her body, his mouth going dry as he regarded the way her dress clung to all her curves, from the jut of her hips to the curve of her breast.

 

Buffy squinted down the propagation line, she could do this, she was the Slayer; she could hit a fly with a pin and..."Ugh!"

 

Spike nearly groaned out loud at her vocalisation.  God, she was killing him.

 

"Darn it!"

 

Spike's eyes unglazed as he tried to concentrate on a now scowling Buffy.  "What's tha'?"

 

"Damn it, Spike, why can't I do it?"  Buffy whined, her eyes tearing over in frustration…they had been doing this for hours!

 

Spike sighed, trying to think of something to say that didn’t involve his cock.

 

"Teach me properly?"  She pouted up at him.

 

"What?"  His over-addled sex-driven brain tried to work out the non-sexual slant on her whimpered words.

 

"Teach me."   She repeated, looking pleadingly into his eyes.  As she continued to speak she matched her words with solid steps towards him.  "Please, Spike, you said you would and I've been trying for like three hours now..."  She was right in front of him when she finished. 

 

Finally noticing the glazed over sex-look in his eyes, she realised the alternative way her words could be taken.  And what had almost happened the last time she'd spoken them.  She sooo wasn't gonna go there! *Remember Buff?  You plus Vampire equals everyone you love ending in horrible pain!*  

 

But for the love of chocolate she couldn't stop her last sentence escaping her lips, nor the provocative way it came out. "....I know you can teach me how to do it right."  She completed, staring hotly into his eyes.

 

"Ughh..."  Spike groaned, reaching for her.  That was just too much, his hands grasped her upper arms and he drew her body into his, connecting their lower halves with a moan.

 

"I say old chap, are you going to keep her to yourself all evening?"

 

Buffy and Spike pulled away at the sudden intrusion, both adopting a slightly fighting-like pose automatically. 

 

"Jack."  Spike said flatly, attempting not to vamp out at the guy.

 

"Uh, Hi."  Buffy coughed.

 

"Oh, pet this is Mr. Bradshaw.  Our nearest neighbour on the other side."

 

"Call me Jack."

 

"Um..."  Buffy blushed as he took her hand, pressing a kiss to it.  This was not how things worked in Y2K Sunnydale.

 

"Hey now, mate."  It was instinct that had Spike drawing the Slayer back to his chest.

 

"Don't worry, William, I'm not trying to steal your wife!"  Jack laughed so good-naturedly that any animosity Spike felt towards him quickly dissipated.

 

"Better not be, old man.  How’s the party faring?"  Spike queried, his voice immediately more upper class.

 

"Pretty well, starting to wind down.  Nicolas had me looking for you.  Worried you'd gotten lost."

 

"Just teaching Elizabeth a bit of pool."

 

"And is he a good teacher, Elizabeth?"  Jack asked Buffy, smiling at her.

 

"I think he'll probably improve with age."  Jack laughed and Spike fake-scowled at her.

 

"Watch it love, my egos' sensitive!"

 

 

---

 

Back in Sunnydale…

 

 

 

"Watch out!"  Spike ducked as he heard Buffy scream, narrowly escaping a spray of fire.

 

"Bloody hell!" He growled, standing next to Buffy, the two of them about forty feet away.

 

Buffy watched as the creature roared, rising to its full height of seven and a half foot.  Fire spurted from its nostrils and it started to charge them.  "Fuck this." 

 

"Language, love."  Spike chastised with a grin.

 

"Shut up, Spike!  You go to the right, I go to the left.  On three...."  Buffy watched as it gained on them, "One....Two..."

 

As one the two of them rushed it, Buffy flying to the right as Spike dove for the left.  As one they tore the two horns from the side of its head.  They landed in a heap behind it, watching as the creature roared in pain, grabbing its head.

 

With a 'zipping' sound the creature appeared to fold in on itself and disappeared with a small puff of smoke.

 

"Wanna go tell your Watcher?"  Spike asked.

 

Buffy blew a strand of hair from her face and looked over at her husband.  He was lying down, his body propped up on his elbows.  There was a smudge of soot on his left cheek and his hair was slightly disarrayed.

 

"I think I finally get what Faith meant."  Buffy murmured.

 

"Huh?"  Was all Spike got out before Buffy dove on him, making him topple to the ground with the force of her kiss.

 

*Slayin' does make me horny!*

 

 

---

 

 

"Hi guys."  A very dishevelled looking Buffy and Spike entered the library about an hour and a half after they'd left.

 

"Don't wanna know..."  Xander muttered to no one in particular, earning a kick in his shins for his trouble.

 

"I trust the demon is...uh, dead?"  Giles enquired, leaving his office for the first time since the blonde pair had left.

 

"Yep...went poof and everything."  Buffy answered, allowing Spike to lead her to their still-empty chair.  She dropped the bag she'd been carrying under the table and plonked herself down on his lap.

 

"Good good..."  With that Giles retreated back into his office, his noise back in the book he'd been reading.

 

"Ooookay, what’s up with Giles?"  Buffy asked Willow.

 

"He's been like that since you left.  I think he's looking for that Watcher..."

 

"Ackerton, Red."  Spike supplied, wrapping his arms around his wife's waist.

 

"Yeah, him."  Willow shrugged helplessly. 

 

"Any news on the research front?" Buffy asked.

 

"Nope...oooh!  You bring donuts?"  Willow asked excitedly.

 

"Of course...."  Buffy reached under the table to retrieve her bag.  She placed the large box on the table, watching as the witch bounced in her seat before reaching over for one.

 

"Sugar fix!"  She squeaked excitedly.

 

Oz smiled lovingly at her reaction, reaching over to ruffle her hair.  She sat back and smiled back at him softly with shy, loving eyes.

 

Cordy rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, gagging as he shoved the sticky mush down his throat.  Swatting his hands out of the way she daintily reached for a jelly filled donut.

 

From across the table, Buffy sat, safe within the circle of her husband’s arms and watched her friends laugh and tease each other with all and any animosity forgotten.

 

"Glad to be home, pet?"  Spike whispered into her ear.

 

"Yeah...I think I am."  Buffy smiled and pressed a kiss to his still blacked cheek.  Her tongue darted out and gave it a little lick.  She giggled as he growled softly at her, then snuggled down in his embrace, waiting for her Watcher to come out from hibernation and tell how she needed to save the world this time.

 

 

 

Part Eight

 

A/N What's in italics is Giles' flashback to the conversation.

 

 

 

With a sigh Giles closed the seventh book of the night and pushed it away.  He couldn't understand it.  They knew what time Buffy and Spike had been transported too and that they met with a Watcher and Slayer in the 1870's.  The information should have been in one of these books.

 

Unless....

 

The name had sparked off the memory of the Watcher's disgrace.  Maybe there was something in the diary that could explain Spike's strange behaviour towards the Slayer.  Everything up till now had led Giles to believe that the Vampire was nothing more than a remorseless killer, feeling nothing for anyone other than himself.

 

Something about a soul?

 

Or a conscience.

 

Or even, a theory on the nature of the very demon that animated William The Bloody's body.

 

Yes, this indeed would be more than reason enough for the council to hide the manuscript....but not necessarily destroy it.

 

Even the Council, as set in their old ways as they were, knew the high statistical probability of an imminent apocalypse being averted through one text or another, regardless of how controversial.

 

They would, however, have no qualms about hiding the information until they deemed it pertinent.

 

He knew someone...back from his Oxford days.  They had some access to confidential texts.  He couldn't imagine why they wouldn't be able to gain access to this one.  If they would agree.

 

Now, all he had to do was find the number.

 

Giles finally looked up from his self-induced daze to his wreck of an office.

 

"Oh....bugger."

 

---

 

An hour later Giles emerged from his office once more, "Uh, does anyone have an idea as to where I might have placed an old phone number?"

 

"Umm....address book?"  Book Willow suggested with a frown, glancing around the room to see if anyone else had an idea. 

 

"Who's it for?"  Buffy asked.

 

"An old friend...one who may know the whereabouts of the Watchers' diary."  Giles explained.  "I do think it might be quite important as to the whereabouts of this demon and the consequences of your time-travel....I-if that indeed is what happened."

 

"You think we might not have gone back in time?"  Spike asked, intrigued as it had occurred to him too.

 

"That’s impossible - we were there and it certainly wasn't Disney Land."  Buffy put in confidently.

 

"Well, the idea of an alternate universe or dimension has crossed our minds...."  Giles seemed to go off in to his own little world again.

 

"What about directory enquiries?  They have numbers, right?"  The group looked shocked at Xander's pretty good idea.

 

"Uh, yes...I don't know why I didn't think of it before."  Giles mumbled, retreating back into his office.

 

"Hey, I do more than go for snacks you know."  He smiled, fake-offended.

 

"Yeah, sometimes it's a whole meal."

 

---

 

Giles carefully replaced the phone back in its cradle.  With a sigh he removed his glasses and began polishing them.  Needless though the exercise was it calmed his nerves somewhat.

 

The good news was that Richard should be able to lay his hands on the diary in question.

 

"I don't know, Rupert, it'll be tricky."

 

"I understand that.  It is of the up most importance that we can study this diary."

 

"We?" Richard queried.

 

"There a-are some....uh, civilians who aid my Slayer in her calling."  Giles admitted.

 

Richard laughed, "Really old man?  I heard that your Slayer was a bit of a...handful."

 

Giles allowed himself a smile, "Yes....but nevertheless she is one of the best in her line.  I believe that there is something in the diary that could change an awful lot over here." 

 

"Isn't there always?"  Richard asked sarcastically.

 

"Quite.  So, you think you can do it?"

 

"Like I said, it'll be tricky, but I should manage it."

 

The bad; he was going to have to travel to England himself to retrieve it.

 

"One problem."  Richard admitted.

 

"Yes?"

 

"The Council....they've been watching me rather closely since the Angelus incident."

 

"Whatever for?"  Giles frowned, trying to ignore the pang in his heart that screamed 'Jenny'.

 

"You remember the manuscript you requested concerning Acathla."

 

"Yes, you said they were not under...oh, I take it there were not in easy reach?"

 

"Not exactly.  It was less my taking them, more my passing them on to you.  Your Slayer has....quite a reputation.  Not unlike your own."  Richard teased lightly, trying to move his words to a happier subject.

 

"What's the problem?" Giles asked, unable to be swayed from his quest.

 

Richard sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to get out of this.  "I don't think it would be safe for me to send them to you over the Internet."

 

"Probably for the best, I hate that infernal contraption!"  Giles scowled at the machine in question.

 

"You never change, Rupert."  Richard laughed, then sobered.  "I need you to come to England.  I should be able to get them out of the council but..."

 

"I understand.  How soon can you get your hands on them?"  Giles asked, already making up a mental timetable.

 

"I need a couple of days.  Can you be here by Friday?"

 

"Yes.  Where do you want to meet?"

 

"Not at my home.  You understand, right?"

 

"Of course, what about the pub near the docks?"

 

"It's now a gay strip club."  Richard explained wryly.

 

"Good lord!  Is nothing sacred anymore?  That pub was a piece of our heritage!"

 

"I'm afraid when you left you took its main source of income with you, if you remember correctly!"

 

Giles smiled dryly.  "Very funny.  Where else?"

 

"Do you remember 1982?"

 

"Vaguely."

 

"I mean that night, in November."

 

Realisation hit. "Ah." 

 

"Good.  Midnight."

 

With a sigh, Giles reached for the phone again, preparing to make the necessary travel arrangements.  England was not somewhere he wanted to be right now.  Who knew what the implications of this demon were?  And also, though he had reprimanded Xander, he too had misgivings about Spike.

 

What father wouldn't?

 

"Oh lord, please don't let him start calling me 'Dad'!"

 

 

 

Part Nine

 

 

~~~ Day Thirty-One ~~~

 

 

 

 

Birds were singing, cooks were making breakfast and a late morning sun was shining in the sky.  Today was a classic English morning, minus the cold...perfect for horse riding!   At least, Buffy would have thought that was what was happening had it not been for the rather delicious position she now found herself in. 

 

Spike's face was buried against her neck, his arms wrapped around her body.  His body appeared to envelope hers; his embrace making her whole being tingle.   His hands were under her rather modest nightgown, touching the soft skin of her thigh and lower back.

 

*Okay, now I know this wasn't how I fell asleep last night.* She mused, silently trying to figure a way out her current predicament.  A task that was curiously trying as a good 99.9% of her being was quite content where it was thank-you very much!

 

Spike groaned in his sleep, his hands gliding a little bit further under her clothes.

 

For some reason the action reminded her of that two-bit hussy from last night, Virginia, and she scowled as she remembered Spike's flirtations with the other woman.  *What is it with men?  Flash 'em some minute breasts shoved up in a corset and suddenly they go all gaa-gaa!* 

 

At this point  Buffy obviously ignored the little voice in the back of her head that mentioned that woman's breasts were probably larger than hers but....damn it! That wasn't the point!

 

With a little growl, Buffy slapped at the hands on her body.  "Spike, you leach, get off-"

 

"Sshhh...."  A still-asleep Spike gently pressed his lips against hers.  This silenced her!

 

For a second she closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his mouth on hers.  However, the feeling was short-lived as Spike retracted his head once his task was completed, allowing his face to return to nuzzling her neck.

 

*Come on, Buff!  This should be an easy one - just scream at him and kick his undead ass out of bed!* Buffy continued to argue with herself, not noticing the Vampire as he began to wake up.

 

The hand that rested on her leg moved slightly, his fingers ending up skimming the sensitive skin of her inside thigh.  Buffy jumped, violently broken from her thoughts.

 

She let out a half moan, half scream in the shock of the tingles that travelled straight to her sex and she began to pray with her body that it would not betray her anymore than it already was.  "Ahhh!"

 

"Buffy?"   Spike's sleepy voice broke into the haze that had become Buffy's mind as she tried to form a coherent sentence.

 

"Sleep well?"  He murmured, closing his eyes again.  It was way too early for a good vamp to be awake!

 

"Uh...yeah, kinda.....ahhhh, do ya think you can um...you know - "  Buffy muttered, averting her eyes from his.

 

"Oh."  Spike seemed to notice for the first time how entwined their bodies were...but he didn't move away from her.  He didn't want to move.  This was what he had been dreaming about for weeks.  Actually having the Slayer in his arms...without getting a major concussion!  He wasn't gonna pass up this opportunity - he might not get another one....anyway, you only die twice...

 

Buffy's eyes widened as the now-very-much-awake Vampire's hands began to move and blue-green orbs shot up to meet azure ones.  Excitement coursed through Buffy's body as his fingers skimmed her skin as his hands beginning to wrap around her waist.  Spike's eyes seemed to darken in colour as the Slayer shivered once, her body reacting uncontrollably to his closeness.

 

"Spike?"  Buffy breathed as the Vampire in question slowly leant in to her lips.  Her tongue nervously escaped her mouth to moisten her lips and Spike growled low in his chest at the appearance of the pink organ, his mouth descending to cover hers.

 

CRASH!

 

Buffy and Spike jumped apart, moments before their lips would have met, at the sudden noise from downstairs.

 

"Bloody Hell!"  Spike growled in shock, shooting up in bed as Buffy jumped from them bed, hastily wrapping herself in her robe.

 

Without a second look to the Vampire, who still lay prone on the bed, Buffy quickly left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

 

"Fuck!"  Spike muttered as the door clicked shut.  With an overbearing sigh, Spike flopped back down on to the pillows.

 

 

---

 

 

Buffy sighed in relief as Spike finally left the Dining Room.  Lunch had been...awkward, to say the least.

 

They had barely spoken a word to each other. 

 

He'd....tried, she guessed.  But, she was just so embarrassed. 

 

How could she have reacted to him like that - they were mortal enemies for god's sake!

 

Okay, well maybe not exactly mortal enemies...

 

She knew they'd not been mortal enemies for a while now....and yeah, though she wouldn't admit it to anyone; they had become friends.

 

Last night...it felt like all the lines had been blurred for a second but then bang, like that they were back to their easy bantering with the entrance of that bloke....James, John..."Jack!"  Buffy murmured triumphantly.

 

But this morning, it had been different - like every morning she'd woken up wrapped in his arms, but this morning she just...she just couldn't bare to have his arms leave her.  The last month she'd grown to depend on him so much...he was all she had in this crazy time leap.

 

Everything here was backwards - nothing was like the life she knew.  Here if she wanted a light after dark it was candles all the way - far too much moonlighting!  There was no technology.  No TV, no Chinese food, no music.  No Mom.  No girly chats with Willow at midnight.  No stupid Xander jokes.  No Giles being all repremandy.

 

No demons...except Spike.  No schoolwork.  No angsty feelings...well, except those that all the Spike-appreciation had brought!

 

But...there was tranquillity.

 

And though it may seem like the most ridiculous thing in the world to want....peace was something her life had seriously lacked these past few years. 

 

Some girls dreamed of wild nights out and parties till sunrise. 

 

She dreamed of lazy afternoons in the sun.  Quiet idyllic scenery passing her by without having a care in the world.

 

Without having the world's weight on her shoulders....literally.

 

And here...in this crazy dimension she'd found it.

 

Her major Sunnyhell life deficit.

 

Peace.

 

*With my mortal enemy.* She rolled her eyes at that thought.

 

*Wow, Buff, major reflection-time, huh?* It was at times like these that she really missed her diary!  She bet it was all lonely without her!  She'd been really good this year, writing in it every day.  Last year the habit had kinda fizzled out around the time of Angelus.  But this year she had been "making with the resolutions" as Xander has said, and had promised herself that every day she would write something in it...even if it killed her.

 

*Pity I don't have it here - definitely have some pretty full pages by now.*

 

"Oh, thought!  Diary!"  She muttered to herself as she pushed away her still half-full plate, heading off into the hallway to find Mabel.

 

 

---

 

 

Spike shifted uncomfortably in his seat, for the first time feeling the restraints of the clothes of the time.  How he longed for his old jeans and t-shirt! 

 

With a sigh, he angrily flipped the page, absently scanning it as his thoughts raced at a million miles a minute.

 

He was completely at odds with himself.

 

Okay, so maybe he shouldn't have tried to kiss her.  Hell, even he knew that was crazy!  Vampire, Slayer...hello?!

 

But he really had wanted to kiss her...fuck, he still wanted to kiss her!  And a lot more besides but....

 

She'd been distant all morning.  After she'd scurried out of the room like her knickers were on fire he'd dressed and quickly followed, finding her in the Dining Room.

 

He'd tried to make conversation - act like everything was normal.  Like nothing had happened...

 

*Bloody HELL!  Everything is normal, you git!  You didn't do anything!*

 

Spike shook his head trying to clear out that voice - and the other one.  Both fuckers were annoying, he decided.

 

So he wanted to kiss the chit.  Big deal.  The Slayer's hot.  It was as simple as that.  Not like they were gonna get married.

 

Because they were already married. 

 

He mentally rolled his eyes.  "Fuck, its not really us...get it straight, wanker..."  He muttered to himself, angrily flipping another page his eyes moving across it though none of the words registered in his head as the internal battle raged on.

 

But it could have been them.

 

Say they were in a different dimension.

 

All it meant was that in different circumstances they could have been together.  In these circumstances.

 

I.E.  The circumstances they were in now.

 

They could be together here.

 

And, why not?  Surely they both deserved a bit of happiness, right?  After Dru and Angelus. 

 

Without his notice Spike's true face flickered forward for a moment at the mention of his Grandsire.

 

The change, however, seemed to ground him.

 

"That's it mate, time for a nap..."  Spike slammed the book shut and placed it on the table beside him, levering himself from the chair.  "Lack of sleep's making you go batty..."

 

Continuing to mutter to himself about the results of sleep-deprivation, the Vampire moved upstairs to their bedroom for a nap.

 

The bedroom he shared with her.

 

And their bed.

 

 

---

 

 

Not twenty minutes later the Vampire was rather rudely woken from a verrrry interesting dream involving him, Buffy, the hills they'd found themselves dumped on the month before and a bowl full of whipped cream.

 

The bed shifted violently under the weight of a bouncing Slayer and the Vampire groaned as Buffy's squeaky voice assaulted his ears, "Jackpot!"

 

"Gggrughnuhgh!"  Spike muttered unintelligibly and Buffy poked him, her earlier discomfort gone at her find.

 

"Spike!  Wake up!  Look what I found!"

 

Spike sleepily raised his head, his eyes blearily focusing on the blonde in front of him.  "Whassat?"  He slurred, wanting to move as little as possible so that when she left he could hopefully return to his dream.

 

"I found my diary!"  Buffy held it up like it was gold.

 

"That’s great, love..."  Spike flopped over, burying his face in a soft pillow...silently wishing it was a soft blonde instead.

 

"Don't you get it?"  Buffy asked, poking him again.  "I write everything down in my diary."

 

"Sugh?"  Spike grunted what sounded like, 'so?' to Buffy's ears.

 

"Sooo....if we're in another dimension or time or whatever, I'd still be me right?  I mean fundamentally?"

 

"Big word..."

 

Buffy scowled at the lump and poked him again.  He growled.  "So fundamental-me would have kept a diary - which she did - and she would have wrote everything down in it!  If her 'Spike' was a vamp too, then she might have kept something about a Watcher in here!"

 

He lifted his head to her.  "Did she?"  Spike's interest was mildly peaked by this turn of events...and the sudden expansion of the slayers vocabulary.

 

Buffy frowned and the smile dipped off her face, "I don't know.  I haven't read it, yet."

 

"Bloody hell..." Spike muttered under his non-existent breath.  "Wake me when you've got something..."

 

Buffy scowled as the lump in the bed once again flopped under the covers.  Then, she opened the book.

 

The Diary of Elizabeth Anne Summers

 

 

---

 

 

Back in Sunnydale....

 

 

 

Giles double-checked his bags; making sure he hadn't forgotten anything as the tannoy overhead announced that his flight would be departing soon and that all passengers should make their way to the boarding terminal.

 

In his head, Giles did a quick inventory of his belongings;

 

Clothes...check.

Shaving equipment....check.

Sterling.....check.

Passport....check.

Double-edged axe....check.

Ties...check.

Spare glasses...check.

Travel sickness tablets...."Damn!"

 

With a glance to the ever-increasing queue at the boarding desk, Giles quickly took off in the direction of the airport pharmacy.

 

 

Part Ten

 

 

*Okay, guess I'll start here.* Buffy thought as the book fell open on her lap on to the middle page, the elegant free script flowing from the pages, so unlike Buffy’s familiar writing but at the same time so familiar. 

 

 

29th June 1871

 

Yesterday I became Mrs. William Dartmoore.  The wedding was perfect.  Everything I have ever dreamt of and more.  Everyone danced and laughed and ate.  It was truly a most joyous occasion.  We will be forever indebted to Edward for his beautiful present.  He painted us the most perfect portrait; we shall treasure it always.

 

I feel wonderful.  Rested, yet excited all at the same time.  I'm sorry I didn't write last night but we were other wise engaged.

 

I...I hadn't been prepared for such an onslaught of emotions.  It was everything William had promised.  Mabel had warned me of the pain, but it was momentary, thank the lord.

 

A most wonderful thing happened in the early morning.  As Mabel was readying me for my wedding, she gave me her wedding present.  And it was my favourite gift second, not even to Edwards'.  She knows!  I could scarcely believe it myself, but she does.  And she told me it was fine.  I believe that my William has had something to do with this transformation, for all my life I have known Mabel to be a religious woman and never would I have thought her to be so easily complacent with my husbands'....background.  But, having said that she does care for me dearly; she has been like my mother since mama passed so maybe my happiness is enough for her.

 

William is still asleep.  Of this fact he has warned me.

 

The only time vampires require sleep is in the morning and towards the afternoon; so he will be prone to taking naps.  After last night, I think I would be hard pressed not to join him! 

 

Perhaps, I shall wake him now....

 

 

Buffy gasped, looking up from the book over to Spike, poking him hard.

 

"Spike!"  She hissed.

 

"Whugh?"  Spike moaned, snuggling further into the pillow that had just a moment ago been Naked!Buffy.

 

"Elizabeth knew William was a Vampire!"  Buffy exclaimed.

 

"Well, she'd be hard pressed not to, what with the no sunlight and drinking blood thing."  Spike mumbled, pulling the blankets back over his head.  "Go sleep now..."

 

"Ugh!"  Buffy groaned sticking her tongue out at him before turning back to the book.  She flipped further back, searching for their first meeting.

 

 

4th March 1871

 

I have always known that there was evil in this world.  I have not been so sheltered as to think it as far from my world as most would like to believe but never have I been presented with the truth of this world.

Tonight, I was attacked...

 

 

Buffy gasped in shock.  She couldn't believe that William had attacked Elizabeth; or that she had ever been able to forgive him.  Never mind marry him!  Sure her and Spike were okay, she answered the voice in her head, but she was a Slayer.  She'd inflicted as much pain on him as he had on her......but Elizabeth was all human.

 

Buffy forced her eyes back to the page amazed as her words painted a story clearer than she could have imagined...

 

 

Elizabeth smiled at Colonel and Mrs. Wilson, thanking them once more for their hospitality.  They finally turned back to their party, leaving Elizabeth waiting for her cab with the footman.

 

Five minutes later her ride still hadn't arrived and the servant shifted uncomfortably, "I don't know what’s taking them so long, m'lady."

 

"Perhaps they've had a problem with the horses."

 

"Aye, they might at that...perhaps I should..."  The man glanced over at the stables.

 

"Of course."  Elizabeth agreed with a smile.

 

"Will you be alright on your own?  I could-"

 

"I'll be fine; the house is just there.  I'm enjoying the night's air at any rate."

 

The elderly man smiled at her, endeared by her fresh attitude, before departing.

 

Elizabeth smiled, as a cool breeze washed over her body.  This was one of her most favourite times of the day, or night depending on how you looked at it.  The moon was bright in a cloudless sky.  The stars were like twinkling eyes, winking at her, inviting her to enter the garden on which they shone.

 

With a glance to the still unreturned carriage, Elizabeth wandered into the garden.

 

To say it was beautiful didn't do it justice.

 

She could hear the rabble of people still inside, enjoying the music and the free-flowing wine.   She extended an ear to see if the carriage was coming, but upon hearing nothing, moved to explore the garden further.  It was early spring and the flowers were almost out in full bloom. 

 

It reminded her of her own garden, though even she would admit that hers was not as breath taking.  There was a large expanse of grass, surrounded by flowerbeds.  In the back, though barely visible by moonlight, was what she knew to be a rose covered archway, in which her hosts had boasted, they had spent much of their early marital life.

 

With a wistful smile that she should find such happiness, Elizabeth made her way to the gazebo.  Upon entering she slowly seated herself, happily gazing out to the stars.

 

"What’s a pretty young thing like you doing out here...all on your own?"

 

Elizabeth gasped, her hand flying to her bosom in shock as she spun around.  "Sir, you surprised me!”  When nothing more was said she continued, her voice shakier than she would have liked.  “W-who are you?"

 

"I asked you a question; it is rude not to answer."  The unknown man grabbed her, bringing her flush against his body.  She could smell alcohol on his breath and it made her dry heave as she wriggled in his harsh hold.

 

"Let me go!" She squeaked, bringing her other hand up to beat at his face.

 

"Don't think so, darling!"  He grabbed her arm, twisting it painfully behind her. 

 

"Get off me!  I-I'll scream!"  Elizabeth opened her mouth to do just that, when a grubby hand closed over her face.  She squirmed, her legs kicking out at him, as real panic began flooding her.

 

The attacker swore, pushing her down to the ground, using his excessive body weight as an advantage; holding her there.  She screamed beneath his hand.  The man growled and reached inside his boot.

 

"If you don't shut up I'm gonna take this knife and slit your pretty throat...won't take long...such pretty, pretty skin...would be a shame to scar it..."  He spoke barely above a whisper, spraying her frightened face with spit as he enunciated his words.

 

Tears slipped from her tightly closed lids as she felt the tip of the knife scrape along the exposed skin of her chest, leaving blood trails.

 

"You gonna behave?"  He hissed.

 

Elizabeth nodded furiously, her body heaving as she felt his grubby hand stray from her mouth, over her breasts and down her bodice; reaching for the hem of her skirt.

 

"Now, is that any way to treat a lady?"

 

Both looked up, astonished, at the interruption.  For a moment they all seemed frozen in time.

 

"Please, help me."  Elizabeth begged, her voice hoarse from fear.

 

The man on top of her jumped to his feet, kicking her behind him.  Elizabeth cried out in pain but scrambled to her knees, scurrying into a corner of the gazebo.

 

Her saviour knocked the knife from her attackers hands in seconds.  It clattered to the ground, unheeded.  Her attacker swung at her saviour, but somehow...and Elizabeth was not quite sure how the speedy attack was evaded.

 

One moment Elizabeth had feared for her saviour’s life, the next her attacker was bruised and barely conscious on the other side of the gazebo floor.

 

"Now, who are you?"  The saviour's voice was like icy.  Hard.  Painful.  Cruel.

 

"This is no business of yours."  The man spoke, his accent more cultured than it had appeared in the beginning of the ordeal.

 

Elizabeth looked up, momentarily shocked out of her fear as she croaked his name, "Mr Waldring?"  She'd danced with him earlier that evening and thought him no more than a harmless old man.  A little bumbling but definitely kind.  How wrong she had been…

 

"You know him?"  The harsh voice softened and the brightest blue eyes Elizabeth had ever seen turned to her.

 

She nodded, trying to get up but was unable to do so.  Her legs shook violently and she collapsed back down to the floor.

 

"Here, let me help you."  He moved to aid her, gently taking her arm; eager not to alarm her.

 

Elizabeth smiled shakily at him, a smile he returned until her attacker spoke up, "See, she’s a whore like all the rest, flouncing her-"

 

Elizabeth gasped as her saviour hit the man again.  His head smashed against the hard, wooden floor; rendering him unconscious.

 

"Sorry, pet...but he was a might annoying."  Her saviour explained with a small grin.

 

Elizabeth laughed, then crumbled down to the floor in a flood of tears.  Immediately, with no respect for propriety, her saviour drew her into his arms, allowing her to cry on his shoulder.

 

"Here now, love, it’s okay.  You're safe now....I won't let him hurt you...."

 

"MISS SUMMERS?!"  A loud, harried voice shouted, accompanied by the sound of dogs barking.  "MISS SUMMERS?!"

 

"Miss Summers, I presume?"  Her saviour whispered to her, and Elizabeth lifted her head and sniffed.

 

"Uh, yes,  Elizabeth."  She whispered timidly, somehow unable to let her saviour go.

 

"My name’s William Dartmoore..."  Anything he might have said was halted by another shout from behind them.  "Ready to face the cavalry?"

 

Elizabeth smiled.  "Yes, I think so."

 

They stepped out of the gazebo, William carefully manoeuvring her away from her still unconscious attacker as they moved to greet the search party.

 

"Elizabeth, we've been so concerned..."  Mrs. Wilson exclaimed.

 

"William, I thought you'd left!"  The Colonel added after his wife.

 

"I almost had, I managed to...diffuse a rather nasty situation." William pulled the Colonel into the gazebo, explaining what had happened in low terms.

 

"He saved me."  Elizabeth whispered to Mrs. Wilson as she took her under her wing.  "I was....attacked."  She finally admitted.

 

"Oh, my poor dear.  I am so sor-"

 

"NO! No, it wasn't your fault.  Father always said I was too head strong for my own good, I shouldn't have-"  Elizabeth had started to cry once more.

 

"No, don't ever think that, love.  It wasn't your fault."  William quickly reassured her as he stepped back outside.  "Barbara, why don't you take Miss Summers inside and get her a warm drink, I'm sure she could use it."

 

"Of course."  Mrs. Wilson turned them to do just that but Elizabeth's voice stopped her.

 

"You'll come back?"  She asked William

 

He smiled at her, taking her hand for a brief moment and squeezing gently before letting go.  "I'll be just a moment."

 

---

 

Never have I been so scared in my life.  Never have I thought that such a thing could happen to anyone....let alone myself.  I feel dirty and unclean and abused and sickened.  No, there are not words to describe the loathing I feel.  My only solace is that there is a little good left in the world. 

 

Even if he will never look twice at me now...now that I am sullied.

 

I am sure to be a maid forever.

 

 

 

The book slipped from Buffy's shaking fingers and crashed to the floor with a thud.  Spike jolted away, his game face present at the sudden noise.

 

He sat up, shocked to see tears coursing down the Slayer’s face.

 

"Pet, what happened?  Did you read something that upset you?"  He asked concerned, his hands carefully moving over her arms in a smooth comforting gesture.

 

Eventually in a low monotone, Buffy recounted the events depicted in the diary, watching Spike get angrier as she spoke.

 

Finally she was done.

 

"You know..."  She began after moments of silence.  "Most girl’s worst fears are like regular stuff.  Demons, spiders...whatever."

 

She paused to breath in a shaky breath, obviously shaken by the entry.

 

"But you know what mine has always been?"

 

Spike shook his head, too concerned for her to take in the amazement that should have been his over the knowledge that she was about to tell her one-time mortal enemy her worst fear.

 

"Just that.  That feeling of complete and utter helplessness. Knowing that someone is...violating you and you can't do a t-thing to s-stop them."  The tears started a-fresh and Spike took her gently into his arms, rocking her back and forth as she cried.

 

"S-she was so s-scared and s-so helpless....and I couldn't do anything to stop him!" She exclaimed through the tears, unable to distinguish the difference between that Elizabeth and herself.  Only able to feel her pain, her anguish and her fear…

 

"Oh, baby....please...don't cry, love.....shhh......it's okay.....I was there, pet.....I'll always be there...."  He crooned to her, trying to soothe her fears.

 

Buffy looked up at him with bleary, red eyes. "Promise?"  She whispered.

 

Spike looked down at her.  Her face was puffy and streaked with tears.  Her hair surrounded her face in disarray; fallen out of the clips she used to hold it in place a-top her head.  She looked beautiful.   And finally, he fell over the precipice he'd been treading for over a month.  He was in love with her.

 

"I promise, Slayer."  He whispered back to her.  "I'll never leave you." 

 

Slowly, he leant down and he knew then that nothing could stop his course now. 

 

He kissed her.

 

 

--- 

 

 

Back in Sunnydale....

 

 

 

"Finally alone..."  Spike murmured, trailing kisses down Buffy's neck as soon as the door closed shut.  "I figure we should take advantage of this..."

 

"Mmmm...."  Buffy moaned in agreement.

 

"Never know when the opportunity will arise again..."  Spike continued, manoeuvring them back to the bed.

 

"Yeah....STOP!" 

 

Spike jumped at the unexpected noise and unexpected imperative.  "What?  What's wrong?"

 

"I want a house."  She stated.

 

"What?"  Spike asked again, his horny-fried brain having some trouble working out where this was going since it didn't seem to be in the direction of the bed.

 

"A house...it’s...icky having sex at Giles'..."

 

"You didn't mind before."  Spike reminded her, leaning into nuzzle her neck.

 

"Yea-no, but that was during demon hunting time and I want a place to ourselves."  She pushed him back on the bed, coyly crawling up him.  "Wouldn't that be nice, baby.  Our own house...together...alone..."  She brushed her lips against his.  "Whenever?"

 

"Yeah..."  Spike agreed trying to pull her down to kiss him.

 

She bounced up and off the bed, chucking him his coat.  "Good, let’s go!"  She scribbled a note for Giles and moved back to the bedroom, dragging her husband.

 

"What?  Now?  But, I was gonna get laid."  Spike whined as Buffy tugged him out of the apartment.

 

"No, you weren't."  Buffy disagreed.

 

---

 

"What kind of place where you looking for?"  The salesman asked, smiling at Buffy; ignoring Spike.

 

"Um, I was thinking something with a Victorian feel..."  Buffy admitted and the man, James, smiled at her sympathetically patting her hand.

 

"We're in California, pet."  Spike reminded her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he scowled at the over familiar sales man.

 

"Why don't you take a look around, while I see what I can come up with?"  He suggested, wisely listening to the Vampire's 'back off' vibes.

 

Half an hour later they still hadn't found anything.  This was Sunnydale’s one and only housing agent; so things weren't looking up.

 

"I'm gonna take a fag break, okay, pet?"  Spike murmured, brushing his lips over hers.

 

"Okay."  Buffy agreed absently as she continued to scan the numerous properties on view...none, however that she would even consider looking at never mind getting Spike to buy!

 

Buffy watched her agitated husband with a smile on her face, amused by the way his body moved until he had that first drag of his cigarette....when it seemed to be grounded.

 

She sighed, "I'm never gonna find anything."

 

Then, suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she spotted something.  She moved closer, plucking the askew card out of place.

 

She gazed at the picture for a moment, a slow smile curving her lips.

 

"Perfect."

 

 

 

Part Eleven

 

  

 

~~~ Day Thirty-One ~~~

 

 

 

 

Buffy's eyes trailed the patterns in the ceiling of their four-poster bed as Spike's fingers seemed to mirror the image as they traced patterns down her chest and stomach.

 

Buffy sighed happily, twiddling a lock of his sandy-blonde hair between her fingers.  She had to admit that while she kinda liked the 'bad-boy' image; this softer colour on him had its own charm.

 

Buffy's gentle voice broke through their silence.  "Thank you." 

 

"Hmmm?"  Spike lifted his head from its resting place on her chest.  "What for?"

 

Buffy smiled down at him, tugging his head up briefly for a quick kiss.  "For saving me."

 

"It wasn't really me, pet."  Spike reminded her softly.

 

"But you would have."  Buffy said: certain.

 

There was a moment’s silence before Spike answered her.

 

"Yeah...I would have." 

 

Buffy smiled softly as Spike moved with cat-like grace up her body to rest just above her, his weight on his forearms that lay beside her head.  He dipped his head, brushing his lips over hers; just the barest touch.  Then again with more pressure.

 

They both moaned as their tongue met, languidly playing and tugging at the other; drawing out the amazing sensation of finally being so close.

 

As he broke away to allow her to breath Buffy smiled up at him; a secrete, content smile.

 

"What?"  He murmured, his eyes momentarily darting to her lips then back to her smoky eyes.

 

"I like this..."  Buffy explained, brushing her lips briefly against his.  "This...us."  She admitted.

 

"Yeah..."  Spike returned the favour, savouring the taste of her as he licked his lips.  "Me too."

 

---

 

Back to present day....

 

 

 

"The house has been remodelled since its original design by an architect, I believe, who owned the house.  As you can see the two major rooms have been merged together."  The woman spoke as she opened the door to the house, her eyes briefly turning to the blonde couple then back to the room she was showing.

 

The entered the house and Buffy gasped at the sight before her; a tasteful mix of the old and the new.  The opening room was huge, the ceiling shooting high unto the Gods.  Though mostly unfurnished, to the left of them was a fireplace...unused, but usable.  In her mind, Buffy could remember the image of a roaring fire...curled happily on top of her husbands lap as he read poetry from an old book to her.  And she superimposed the image on to the fire...and even with the rooms bare walls she could see the furniture mounting up; and she knew right then she wanted it.

 

The woman was still talking, and both got the distinct idea that she was looking down her nose at them.  "As you can see further down the room is the partition that leads to the kitchen, which is fully functional and still retains its original Aga."

 

"Aga?"  Buffy whispered to Spike, ignoring the disapproving look the woman gave her.  Clearly she figured they were wasting her time.

 

"It’s a cooker, love....like we had back home."

 

"Oh, yeah..."  Buffy smiled as she remembered her cooking attempts with Mabel, and then turned to the waiting woman who had a slight scowl on her face that sent Buffy screaming back to her school days.  "Sorry."

 

The woman gave her a tight smile and she continued, walking down the long expanse of the room towards the staircase at the back of the open room.  "And over here we have a downstairs bathroom."  She opened the door and led them through the bathroom and down a wooden corridor.  "Which leads...."  She opened another wooden door.  "...to the Jacuzzi."

 

"Oh, wow."  Buffy gasped in awe.

 

"Look up, pet."  Spike nudged her.

 

"As you can see the roof is made entirely of glass which can be covered for privacy, if the need arose." 

 

Buffy turned to face Spike, "I want it..."

 

Spike grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her too him.  "I know, ducks."

 

"Would you like to see upstairs?"  The woman had seemed to soften all of a sudden.

 

The couple nodded and followed the woman up the ornate spiral staircase.  Room after room, Buffy just fell further in love.  As the finally paused in the last room, over looking the moonlit garden Spike glanced at his mates happy look then back to the estate agent.

 

"Well, I guess we'll take it."

 

 

 

 

Part Twelve

 

 

~~~ Day Thirty-Nine ~~~

 

 

 

 

Buffy ran her free hand through sandy brown/ peroxide blonde hair, absently twirling a curl of soft hair between her fingers.  It had nearly grown out...well, it was more half and half now.  Still short, but soft. 

 

She lay on her side, her head propped up on her other hand.  And she gazed at the man who had shared her bed for the last two months.

 

At the demon.

 

He was beautiful

 

She had never thought that a man could ever be described as beautiful, but that’s what he was.  Gentle and angry, irritating and engaging, annoying and....perfect.  For her, at least.

 

*And that’s all that matters.*

 

God knows how long she'd lain there; it felt like a long time.  But peaceful, never the less.  However, the stillness was not to last as a book caught the corner of her eye.  Leaning forward she pressed a kiss to his shoulder before reaching over to slide the book of the desk behind him.

 

Settling back into the pillows she flipped back in the book, eager to know what else had taken place after that fateful night that had thrown a Vampire and heiress together.

 

 

18th March 1871

 

I have heard from Mabel, who heard from Reverend Jameson who in turn was informed by Lord and Lady Whitick that my saviour from that dreadful night has decided to move here and has in fact purchased the Hartright residence; now to be known as Dartmoore House.

 

William Dartmoore.

 

What an elegant name!  I know I should entertain such thoughts, that they, in themselves, are folly, but I long to meet him once more.  Since that terrible...incident I have thought of nothing else.  Mabel is quite humoured by it, I think. 

 

I have had a few nightmares since that night, but the thought of my dark saviour is all I need to right my senses and all is well again.  Oh, how I long to see him one more time.  There is something about him.  Something I can't quite put my finger on.  His skin is as pale as any I have ever seen...yet his manner, the way he spoke that implies something darker.  There is something that draws me to him.  Something of the devil in him, I think.

 

 

 

 

Buffy chuckled quietly to herself at Elizabeth's apt deduction, her eyes briefly glancing to her still sleeping lover who had shifted at the noise but not woke.  She moved her eyes back to the page, her eyes scanning the shorter...and honestly more mundane entries.

 

Days went by and Elizabeth continued to inform her diary of the contents of her day; long spring rides, beautiful country walks and endless days of books.

 

Until...five entries later, something interesting emerged.

 

 

 

24th March 1871

 

Oh, the most wondrous thing has occurred.  So amazing that I did not think it possible; had not dared to hope.  Mr. Dartmoore arrived this late afternoon.  Actually, more like evening; but no matter.  He said he would have come sooner had not business in town kept him away.

 

He expressed his deepest regret for not arriving sooner.  I tried to put him at ease, but he swore that he would not rest till the villien was in gaol.  Conversation was slightly stilted at first, but as the evening wore on I felt as thought it had evolved to a more peaceful pace.

 

It is nearly eleven O’clock and as I write I am anticipating the ring of the church bells as the new hour arrives.  William left almost an hour ago, with the promise to return soon.  I mentioned my love of gardens through the course of the night and he has offered me the use of his gardens whenever I would like...once they are up and running. 

 

He has just moved in and he says the house is in disrepair, though I think he is joking.  But he is to hold a party, one month from now and I am to attend.  When I asked as to whether I had a choice in the matter, he simply replied no, and that it was fate.

 

I have never believed that it was such a wondrous thing, till now.

 

 

 

Buffy lifted her eyes from the page, sighing as the happiness from the girl escaped the words she wrote.  As she continued to read she became enamoured with the tale of their engagement.  Elizabeth continued to weave her life like a love story, and pure euphoria emitted from every page as she described how William wooed her, with flowers and expensive chocolates.  Long walks through his rose garden, created especially for her.

 

 

 

 

16th April 1871

 

The party was a most joyous occasion, filled with food and dancing and laughter.  I was the envy of every girl there, for William paid me every attention.  Much to the upset of my childhood playmate Edward.  So to indulge him I danced once with him.  Which in turn upset my William!

 

Men are so ridiculous!

 

But William is the worst.  Overtly possessive and proprietarily!  With no worry or respect as to what others might think!

 

William squirreled me away, which was most improper; though I dare say he did not care!  Nor was it the most improper thing he indulged in that night!  The fiend pushed me right up against the billiard's table and kissed me!  But I could not resist him.  I love him so much....and he kisses so well; his gentle touches wipe away any reservation I might ever have.

 

Never have I experienced anything as amazing.  He is everything I have ever dreamt of.

 

He is my Adonis.  My perfection.

 

And I know I am his.

 

 

 

 

Buffy smiled, stopping her reading only to brush her lips across her lover's head as he snuggled up against her in his sleep.

 

Buffy paused as she came to an entry different in format.  The writing was smudged, but still legible.  A gasp caught her throat as she continued to read.

 

 

 

 

5th May 1871

 

I don't believe it. 

 

I can't. 

 

It’s impossible.  An abomination. 

 

How could such a creature exist?

 

How could God allow it?

 

How can I love such a creature? 

 

And, if he is to be believed...

 

How can he love me?

 

 

 

 

Buffy pouted at the abrupt turn in the story.  Elizabeth had not said how it was she came to know of William's condition; but it was obvious she was torn.  Buffy could only relate to the feelings she knew must have been coursing through her alter ego as she wrote.

 

How often had Buffy asked herself much the same thing?  It was easy while they were here; she knew that.  But would it last when the got home?  Would Spike be able to deal with the crap her friends would pile over him? 

 

Would she?

 

"Love?"

 

Buffy looked down through unhappy eyes into the vampires sleepy, worried ones. 

 

"Are you okay?  You read something sad?"  Spike sat up, curling one arm around her.

 

"What?  Uh, no...yeah, maybe."  Buffy admitted.  "She just found out about William's, your, case of vampiritis...and I guess she asked some pertinent questions...got me to thinking..."

 

"Did you just say 'pertinent'?"  Spike asked with a grin.

 

Buffy rolled her still-troubled eyes, "Not funny.  I do read you know."

 

"Not by choice..."

 

"Spike!" 

 

"I'm sorry, love...."  He turned serious, his voice softer.  "What happened?"

 

"Just thinking about what might happen if...when we get home."

 

"Scoobies and all that?"

 

Buffy looked away.  "Yeah..."

 

Spike leant forward, tilting her head up.  "I'm not letting you go, Slayer."  He brushed his lips across hers, only breaking the gentle kiss when he heard her tummy rumble.  He smiled down at her, "Hungry?"

 

Buffy grinned sheepishly.  "I guess so..."

 

"Stay here."  He kissed her again.  "I'll bring something up."

 

"Thanks....don't be long."

 

"I won't, pet."

 

As he left Buffy lay back with a content smile, grabbing the book and flipping the pages on; knowing that it had to get better since she'd already read the wedding!

 

There were nearly three weeks worth of entries that revolved entirely around Elizabeth's fear...and William's eager to please her.  She had let him visit her a week after the discovery and Buffy's heart melted as she read the extent the Vampire had gone to win back 'her' affections.

 

Finally the day came when she was to forgive him and Buffy's heart soared as she read the entry.  It was the first of June.  William had finally persuaded her to visit him and after a peaceful dinner he had taken her out into the moon lit garden.

 

 

 

The garden was littered with tall candles, casting their light across the petal-strewn lawn..  William had taken her hand and led her to the little alcove at the back.  There she had sat and watched as he dropped to his knees before her as a small velvet box materialised in his palm.

 

A tear dropped from her eyes as she nodded and watched her beloved slide the ornate diamond ring on to her finger.  Her arms slid tightly around his neck as he crushed her to him in his embrace.

 

A cheer rang out behind them as the servants celebrated along with them.  But the couple could hear nothing, not the sound of their voices, nor the bark of the dogs...nothing but their heavy breathing as they embraced passionately.

 

 

 

Spike yelped, only just managing to let go of the tray in time as Buffy pulled him on to the bed beside her.

 

"Thought you were hungry…"  He murmured when she broke away to breathe.

 

"Sex now...food later."  Spike shrugged, kissing her again.

 

 

---

 

 

Back to present day...

 

 

 

Midnight had come and gone, Richard had gained him passage through the tunnels into the Council's building; but could go no further.  They had upped their watch of him and he was certain they would both be caught if they went together.

 

So Giles now travelled alone.

 

The whole building seemed silent, but Giles knew otherwise.  He had to be quick or they'd find him.  Richard hadn't been a fool.  No wonder he'd wanted Giles to come to England instead. 

 

Since his arrival he had been treated with such mistrust...but that was normal.  What wasn't was the-

 

"There you are."  A click resounded around the tomb of an office as the lock finally turned and the cabinet opened.  Giles put down the lock-picking kit and opened the door.  Giles grinned, rather happy with himself.  It had been years since he'd picked a lock; "Haven't lost the touch, mate." 

 

Of course it had helped that Willow had blessed the kit; enabling it to bust through most magical barriers and everyday locks!

 

He skimmed the files, searching, searching....

 

"Ah."  He lifted out an aged tomb; rather well preserved.  A quick skim of the contents ensured that he had the right book.  "Bingo."

 

He was just moving to close the door when a snarl was heard from behind him.

 

Giles turned and took in the seven-foot creature in front of him.  It snarled again, its head brushing the over hanging light.  "Bugger."

 

The watchers eyes roamed his surroundings for something he could use as a weapon. 

 

"I take my arrival was not as welcome as I thought..."

 

He spotted his bag; an axe pointing out of the top....just behind the creature, if he could only-

 

Giles gaped as the creature's head rolled to the floor and purple goo spurted everywhere.

 

"Couldn't let you have all the fun, old man." 

 

Giles grinned at Richard before grabbing the diary and getting the hell out of there!

 

 

 

~~~ Day Fifty ~~~

 

 

 

 

"What’s this?"  Buffy smiled at Spike as she turned the package over in her hands.

 

"Present.  Open it."  He urged a bit nervously.

 

Buffy smiled again, tearing away the brown wrapping paper to reveal..."Oh, Spike..."

 

"It’s a diary."  Spike began to explain.  "Figured you might like to write somethin' to, seeing as you...I mean it was just a thought.  If you don't want it, just use it for firewo-" He flustered himself before Buffy interrupted.

 

Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck.  "It’s beautiful, Spike.  I love it."

 

 

---

 

 

Buffy picked up the ink pen that had accompanied the diary and carefully began her diary.

 

6th September 1872.

 

She laughed at the absurdity of the year, before beginning to write.  She recalled the first thirty days of their time together in brief terms but as their last twenty days came about her writing flowed; she too eager to express to paper the happiness, excitement and enjoyment she had felt these past three weeks.

 

Buffy wrote of their nights 'on the town' as Spike had put it.  They had visited a pub about a week and a half ago, in a very rough part of town and had met some vampires.  Buffy realised how much she had missed slaying...which had resulted in the preparation of a sparring room for the two of them; and then the mother of all sparring matches!

 

Since then they had gone out nightly, Buffy feeling unable to sit back and let people die once the existence of vampires in this time was thrust in her face.

 

Four days ago it had snowed and Buffy had been faced with her first winter-y experience.

 

The two had gone out as soon as night had fallen, and the grounds had been alight with candles as they played in the snow.  The dogs had heard their shouts and screams as they pelted each other with snowballs.  Two beautiful snow angels and a ridiculous demon snowman had been destroyed as three dogs escaped, barking wildly at their master's display.  Ivy, their Labrador, had gone crazy once she'd seen the snow pile and immediately felt that her only course of action was to eat the whole thing.  Her partner, Holly, had joined in the fun and eventually all the nine dogs were free and frolicking around the garden.

 

Buffy had laughed as she'd watched them, for the first time in a long while wishing for one piece of modern convenience - a camera; so as to capture the moment forever.

 

Spike had watched her euphoria openly, knowing that there was nothing as close to heaven as this.  He amended his thoughts as he lifted her up in his arms to warm her frozen fingers and red nose by the warm fire....then once again in bed.

 

This was a hell of a lot closer.

 

 

 

Part Thirteen

 

 

~~~ Day Seventy ~~~

 

 

 

"This is amazing."  Buffy whispered to Spike as they were ushered, arm in arm, in to their own private theatre box.

 

"Enjoy the play, m'lady, sir."  Spike smiled politely at the boy, tipping him a healthy five pounds.  The boy gasped his thanks in awe as he accepted the tip, before remembering himself and leaving appropriately, closing the heavy velvet curtains behind him.

 

"And look!"  Buffy squealed.  "Mini binoculars!" 

 

Spike chuckled at her exuberance, "You definitely look the part, pet."

 

"It's like some period drama...I love all the outfits...and this dress!" 

 

The blonde Vampire secretly agreed with her, as he watched the Slayer lean over the box edge, her bottom bouncing softly in her seat in her excitement.  The cut of the dress thrust her breasts to the sky, showing more cleavage than most of her outfits back home.  Spike licked his lips appreciatively, just retaining his instinctive urge to touch her.  Just.

 

Buffy grinned, wriggling in her giddiness as she watched the theatre fill.  Spike smiled at his lover's wide eyes and happy expression. 

 

Beyond them, they play began and Buffy cooed softly before settling down to enjoy it.  This was the kinda of thing that she thought she would never be able to experience.  It was a murder mystery, set in a society house, one dark and stormy night.  The theatre was packed, but in their own private box she was unaware of the stuffiness. 

 

Darkness fell, and the sound of thunder crashed around the room, and the first player walked out on to the stage.

 

Spike's eyes glazed over as he ran them hotly down the slayers tightly encased body.  He groaned as she shifted, her breasts bouncing prettily at the movement.  He felt himself harden beneath his clothes and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat with the effort it took not to reach out and just grab her.  Totally unaware of her husband's 'state', Buffy continued to allow herself to be enthralled by the story.

 

The play was getting underway, but the plot was lost on the Vampire as he stared openly at the beauty beside him.  Enraptured by her excitement in the theatrical experience, his hands unconsciously reached out to touch her.

 

Buffy was unsure if it was her mass of underskirts, her absorption in her surroundings, or simply Spike's feather-like touch that had masked the exploration of her lover's roaming fingers until it was too late.

 

"My god, have you seen-ahhhh, SPIKE!"  Buffy's whisper erupted into a shriek, as she felt cool fingers slide in between her bare thighs.

 

Several heads turned briefly to the Slayer and Vampire, disapproving eyes glaring at the young couple, before returning to the stage.  Buffy blushed furiously, too mortified to stop the Vampire tugging at her until it was too late.  They soon ended upon the floor, a tangle of limbs and expensive clothing.

 

"SP-"  Her second shrike of the night was cut off by his demanding tongue as it swept into her mouth tugging and pulling hers into a passionate kiss.

 

Buffy moaned deep in her throat as the Vampire hooked his arms beneath her skirts; his hands massaging her ass with strong, sure strokes that sent tingles of lust straight to her core.  She wriggled beneath his ministrations, her body arching into his, as his hips thrust into hers; driving his erection between her thighs.

 

His lips slid wetly from hers, finally allowing her to breathe.  They travelled down her throat, his tongue tickling the sensitive skin that it discovered as his hands continued to reek havoc further south.

 

"So fucking beautiful..."  He murmured reverently into her scented skin, as his mouth paid homage to the top of her up thrust breasts.

 

Buffy writhed beneath his ministrations, arching into his dual attack on her body.  Her hands were at his shoulders, unconsciously kneading the taught muscles they encountered in pure need.

 

His hands slid from her skirts and she moaned her loss until they continued their path up her body, undoing the catches to the front of her tight dress.  Spike gasped in delight as her breasts finally spilled free, his cool mouth immediately covering one pouting nipple.

 

Buffy's hands slid into her hair, her fingers twinning in the light brown locks to hold his mouth to her heated flesh.  Her eyes rolled to the sky, absently trailing the intricate patterns on the ceiling as the Vampire switched sides;  his tongue encircling the hardened pink bud, before his blunt teeth tugged at her skin playfully.

 

Below them the play continued, none of the guests any the wiser.

 

Her previously comparatively idle hands finally began to work again, and they slid down his chest, pushing open the buttons of his crisp, white dress-shirt to reveal pale, sculpted skin.  Spike groaned low in his throat, as soft fingers flicked over his sensitive skin, naughty hands pinching his nipples hard, before he was flung on to his back.  He gazed up at the very aroused Slayer through heavy-lidded eyes, and growled softly at the passion he could see in her expressive hazel orbs.

 

Her hands gripped his wrists, applying just the right amount of pressure that she knew would cause his cock to surge to life.  Spike growled louder as she straddled his body, her hot, wet core rubbing into his stomach muscles.  He shifted his hips up, trying to lower her on to him through several layers of clothing but Buffy pushed him back, her mouth attacking his.

 

He moaned as Buffy shifted her weight to gain better access to his mouth and resulted in rubbing herself further into his body.  Her teeth tugged his lower lip into her mouth, biting it gently; causing him to growl.  Her tongue swept into his mouth, taking control as both her hands came up to hold his face to her.

 

The Vampire quickly used his suddenly free hands to his advantage, sliding them under his Slayer's mass of skirts; nimble fingers undoing and flinging away her final undergarment before seeking out her heat.  Buffy surged against him as two cool fingers slid inside her and his thumb circled her clit.  She groaned loudly, thrusting herself down on to his undulating fingers, whimpering in need.

 

As the pressure between her thighs built to indescribable heights, she bit down on his lip to stop herself from screaming her pleasure to the world...or in this case the theatre house.  Spike growled as she collapsed on his chest, panting loudly, her mouth absently sucking the droplets of blood she'd formed during her euphoria.

 

Giving her no time to recover, her lover flipped her on to her back, toppling one of the chairs as he did so; but neither noticed - too involved in the other to worry or care about the disturbance they were causing. 

 

So involved in the other, that they didn't even sense the brief appearance of the usher Spike had so healthily tipped, coming to check out the crash.  Nor did they hear his squeak of surprise, or his sure resealing of their curtains to ensure no further interruptions came to the obviously enamoured couple.

 

One of Spike's hands flew to his fly, and he undid himself with surprisingly shaky fingers.  Buffy moaned appreciatively as he was released, her still limp body unable to do anymore than gaze upon her lovers' perfection.

 

With a low growl of pure pleasure, Spike's sank into her heat, capturing her lips at the same moment so as to swallow their combined moans of completion.  He rose up, before slamming back inside her, his hard chest crushing her bouncing breasts with the movement.

 

As they continued to move together, Buffy's legs rose to awkwardly wrap themselves around his waist in order to allow him better access to her body.  Her efforts were hampered by her excessive dress in which, she was still mostly attired.

 

Sweat poured from both their bodies as they writhed against one another, their heavy breaths and heated murmurs only just under the radar of the majority of would-be listeners.

 

Buffy felt the pressure build once more, and tingled in excitement of the high she was sure to receive.  Her movements became jerkier as she strove toward her release.  Spike growled, thrusting harder as he felt both their bodies begin to tighten.

 

Lights soared.  Doors swung open.  Waves crashed against the shore.  And shooting stars flew through the sky.

 

Buffy flung back her neck, opened her mouth and screamed her pleasure to the world.  She barely felt Spike follow her moments later as she slumped beneath him.

 

Fortunately for the pair, their moment of release had coincided with the murder of Lady Cartwright on stage and darkness enveloped the theatre, with the audience non-the wiser.

 

Spike slowly lifted his head to gaze down at the blonde beauty beneath him.  He watched as she slowly opened her eyes and lowered his lips to hers.

 

 

---

 

 

Back In Sunnydale…

 

 

 

"Okay, so...diet coke: two, diet coke and rum, beer, funny fruit drink and a bloody large scotch for me!"  Spike recounted the drink order to the group for the tenth time, before running off before they could change their minds once more.

 

Buffy smiled as she watched her husbands' ass weave its way through the crowd before finally finding itself out of sight.  She reluctantly turned back to the group.

 

"So I says to Mabel, I says..."

 

"Xander, not every story can start like that."  Cordy frowned at her boyfriend, who just kissed her.

 

"So, Buffy, when you guys moving in?"  Willow tried to continue the conversation over the sloppy kissing.

 

"I think, in about a week.  The estate-y person needs the money to go through and paper work, blah, blah, blah..."  Buffy smiled as her Vampire returned, and happily took her diet coke and rum.  "But soon though, so I can start spending Spike's money."  She joked.

 

"It's our money, ducks." He murmured, as he dished out the drinks.

 

"You need some help with packing and stuff?"  Will asked, smiling at Spike as she accepted her diet coke as well.  Oz tipped his beer to the vamp in silent thanks.  Cordy and Xander had yet to resurface, much to the collective disgust of the group.

 

"Yeah."  Buffy unconsciously sat up a bit further to allow her husband better access to the her, as he sat down next to her.  "That would be great - I was thinking we could have a movie night once we're all in...and got a TV."

 

Willow nodded her agreement with a smile to match the slayers.  "TV is good." 

 

"It's quite the in thing."  Oz agreed monotonously.

 

"Anyway, that’s the plan - you know, apocalypse pending!"

 

"What was?"  Xander asked when they came up for air.

 

"TV.  Moving.  House.  Ours."  Buffy recounted for him.

 

"Ahhhh..."  Xander nodded, non-the-wiser.

 

"When's the Watcher getting back?"  Spike asked, taking a sip of his beer, which he'd substituted due to the lack of good scotch, and slipped an arm around his wife.

 

Buffy sighed happily as she snuggled against him, "Tomorrow.  Said he found something good."

 

"Something Watcher-good?  Or something actually good?"  Xander questioned.

 

"No idea.  Probably the first one."  Buffy shrugged helplessly.

 

Xander suggested.  "So party tonight?  Evil demon tomorrow." 

 

"Pretty much - wanna dance?"  Buffy swung her head towards her husband in question.  Buffy smiled at Willow as they left for the dance floor, giggling as the redhead mouthed the words: 'Be good' at her.

 

 

Part Fourteen

 

~~~ Day One Hundred and Sixty-Seven ~~~

 

It was a brisk January evening and the moon sat low in the pitch black night's sky. The cold air tickled Buffy's Californian nose and she scrunched it up in an attempt to avoid the mild discomfort.

Spike, on the other hand, was in his element. It had been too long since he'd been 'home' for winter. He glanced across at Buffy, laughing as he watched her futile attempts to keep warm. He pouted when she scowled and punched him on the shoulder, but then wrapped an arm around her, pulling her body towards him as they turned into yet another cobbled street.

They were out for one of their nightly strolls. It had become an increasing reoccurrence due to the large number of demons roaming the countryside. But Buffy was sure she was at least making some sort of dent in the evil population....at least she hoped she was.

Spike leaned down, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Love you, pet." He murmured into her hair.

Buffy smiled, snuggling further into his half-embrace.

"Ugh...oh.....uggh...."

The blonde couple stopped immediately, their bodies tensing, releasing the other and forming a protective fighting stance in a matter of milliseconds and with such synchronicity it was almost comical.

"What was that?" Buffy whispered, looking around for the source of the noise.

They'd paused at a cross roads of sorts, and five alley-ways or streets connected to this point. A lone oil street lamp flickered in the background and then died out, leaving them practically sightless; their only source of light was the full moon that shone brightly in the sky above.

Spike frowned; something didn't sound right here. He turned in a full circle and sniffed the air, before a lewd smirk formed his features.

"What?" Buffy hissed, frowning at his expression.

Spike's face suddenly turned angelic and an innocent smile flittered over his lips. "I don't know, ducks. But I think it's coming from down there." He said softly, pointing down the alley way to the far right.

Slayer mode completely on, Buffy straightened her shoulders, leading the way to where Spike had indicated.

The noises continued, and Buffy quickened her pace, slowly sliding a stake from within the folds of her umbrella. She glanced around, looking for Spike, only to find him still grinning where she'd left him.

"Spike! Come on!" She hissed into the darkness, flapping her hand at her lover until he rolled his eyes and finally joined her.

"Oh...." The noise, again.

Buffy jumped as the sound of a trash can falling over greeted her ears, then rolled her eyes at herself. She'd been out of this gig for too long! Quickening her step, she turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks.

It was disgusting.

Ugly and foul-smelling.

"Eewwwww!!!!!!" Buffy moaned in disgust, quickly turning out of the alley and speed walking about 600 paces in a matter of mere seconds.

Spike let out a bark of laughter at the look on his lover's face, the loud sound of her distain not even enough to stop the whore and her customer as they continued their 'business' up against the half-broken wooden wall.

Suddenly, he realised he was sans one petite, green-eyed Slayer. He could hear her muttering to herself; mainly about how much shit a certain peroxide blonde Vampire was gonna be in when they got home and quickly jogged up to her with a mild sense of trepidation in his heart.

"Pet..." He tried but she cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.

"Sweetheart, it's not like I-"

"Humph!" Another sharp hand wave, a flick of her hair and she quickened her pace.

"Love-"

"You did it on purpose! And you can sleep on the couch tonight, buddy!"

"But baby, I-"

This time it wasn't Buffy that cut off the Vampire's voice, but a piercing scream that seemed to resonate through the deserted streets. The Slayer glanced up at Spike in askance, a small frown forming her features.

"That doesn't sound like shaggin'." He stated quietly, then took in a deep breath. His eyes flashed yellow.

"What?" Buffy whispered, the pair already unconsciously moving towards their quarry.

"Blood."

---

 

Back In Sunnydale…

 

 

"Why am I on the moving committee again?" Cordelia asked conversationally, as she carried one item at a time out of the Slayer's bedroom and into the blacked out Desoto parked outside. Slowly.

Xander rolled his eyes, watching her go before he resumed the packing of all Buffy's valuables.

Suddenly there was a crash, followed by a British curse and an American giggle from behind the mysteriously-closed clothes cupboard door.

Xander raised his head to meet the witch's eyes. Willow blushed and shook her head as they heard the Slayer moan audibly, followed by a low chuckle. The boy sighed and once again turned his attention to the box in front of him. Thankfully, being full, he carried it to the car.

The cupboard door opened and Buffy popped her head out, grabbing the box they'd 'forgotten' outside the door and leaving the door open began to fold up her clothes to the sound of her lover grumble.

"Shut up and help me!" She scolded, throwing another box his way.

"I don't know why this is taking so long - your clothing barely covers your body as it is; we don't need this many boxes." Spike complained, indicating the numerous, yet full, boxes labelled 'clothing'.

Buffy slinked over to him, swinging her hips. She slid her hands up over his shirt as she spoke, "Complaining?" She purred, rubbing her ironically scantily-clad body against his.

Spike swallowed a groan as his body reacted to her touch, pulling her up to his lips as he answered, "Not at all."

Buffy broke away, responding breathily, "Good!"

"Uh, Buff, peroxide boy, all the stuff's packed." Xander stated from as far away from the couple as physically possible, while remaining to dwell in the same room.

Buffy turned around, smiling appreciatively at her friend, "Thanks Xander." As the others walked in seconds later she amended, "Thanks all you guys!"

"Don't sweat it Buffy! Do you need help packing clothing...we were going to go get a drink, you wanna meet us..." Willow began, sliding on her jacket.

The Slayer shook her head, "Go. We'll finish up here." She turned over her wrist to look at her watch. "It's kinda late guys - I better patrol after this, so I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay, we'll see you later."

"Bye."

The three walked out leaving the Slayer and Vampire alone. Spike spun her around, his mouth descending on hers as he rubbed his arousal in to her hips. Buffy moaned, her fingers digging into his arms as she held on tightly; bracing herself as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

Eventually she broke away from his demanding mouth, breathing heavily she limply pushed at his shoulders as he peppered kissed down her neck and across her shoulder. "We have to pack....honey?"

"Hmmm?" Spike murmured, his lips never leaving her skin.

"No...I...NOW, Spike!" Buffy forcibly pushed him away. Ignoring his growl, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning around, continuing to pack up the remainder of her clothing.

 

---

 

Spike watched from the bed as Buffy moved around the bedroom, putting away her clothes and shoes into the two main wardrobe. He sighed in relief as the final box was emptied. Then frowned as another box was brought into the room.

"Pet?" He asked, his tone perplexed.  She briefly looked up at him before returning her gaze to the just opened box; this one full of underwear.

She crossed to the other side of the room, placing the box on top of the chest of draws, and began to unpack the various bras and panties.

"Are you coming to bed or shall I go out?"

"This is the final box and it'll be day soon." Buffy informed him, closing that draw and opening the one underneath it.

She frowned when she found that it contained several pairs of black boxer shorts. Rolling her eyes at her boyfriends lack of colour in his wardrobe she emptied that draw into the draw below it, and began placing her clothing in the original draw.

"I know." Spike muttered. He spluttered indignantly as he viewed Buffy tip out his draw into another but then sighed in relief as the Slayer finally threw that box into the pile in the hall.

He watched as Buffy removed her t-shirt and shorts, throwing them into a basket at the other end of the room. He licked his lips appreciatively as her half-nude form crawled on to the bed.

"Switch off the light, I'm tired." Buffy said through a yawn, curling up next to him.

"Slayer..." Spike growled.

"Vampire..." Buffy mimicked, and then yawned again, snuggling in closer to him.

Spike sighed, resigned to the fact that he wasn't getting laid and reached over to switch of the light. Turning back he wrapped his arms around the Slayer and listened as her breathing quickly evened out.

Pressing a kiss to her hair he closed his eyes and as the sun rose and the pull of sleep became too much the Vampire dropped off.

 

---

 

"Spike, this is amazing." Joyce gazed at veritable feast laid out before her.

"Buffy helped." Pouted the Slayer from her seat next to her Mother.

"It's wonderful, Buffy." The older woman smiled indulgently, ignoring Spike's snort from the doorway as he brought in a bottle of wine.

Buffy smiled at her mother, then scowled at her Husband. "Shut up. I did."

"Sure, love." Spike smirked down at his lover as he poured everyone a glass of wine, before sitting down to enjoy the kind of family meal his wife had been craving for over four hundred days.

 

~~~ Day One Hundred and Sixty-Seven - …again…  ~~~

 

The two supernatural fighters took in the scene before them for a moment, before throwing themselves in to the fray. Spike grabbed the closest demon, immediately and expertly snapping his neck before anyone even caught wind of their arrival. The demon dissolved into nothingness.

Buffy grabbed the girl, obviously another prostitute walking the streets. Her already scantily clad body had been left further uncovered, and thin trails of blood ran across the bared flesh.

"Run!" She hissed, pushing her in the right direction. The girl didn't even acknowledge the command....she just followed it.

"Now, didn't your Mother ever teach you not to play with your food?" Buffy asked, turning back to the remaining two demons. A quick glance to the left assured her that Spike was just playing with his one and that he was fine.

With a growl the two demons launched themselves at her. Buffy ducked and one flew over her head, but the seconds' fist connect with her stomach. She doubled up but didn't really stagger. With a flip of her hair, and an uppercut to what she hoped was it's jaw, she was back up.

Demon number two growled in anguish as it saw it's partner fall to the ground, blue life-fluid spurting from the hole in his face. It flew at the Slayer, this time connecting with her face. Buffy stumbled back, only just managing to duck in time to miss being smacked in the face with a tentacle that seemed to grow from no-where.

She didn't miss the second.

Spike growled as he watched his Mate go down. With a careless flick of his hand, he tore the creatures throat out, not even noticing that it disappeared, before he was by his Slayer's side in a second.

He needn't have hurried.

"W-wait!" The creature spluttered through the hiss that was his voice, barely able to form the words as one petite, yet strong hand pinned it's neck to the wall.

"What?!" Buffy questioned impatiently, her other stake-held-hand pausing mid-strike.

"W-w-who are y-you?"

Spike rolled his eyes and snorted, but Buffy frowned. "You can't guess, mate? And you call yourself a demon?"

The creature began to shake under her hand, but still it had to know. "Who?" It hissed the demand.

"I'm the Slayer." Buffy replied, dropping the shaking demon to the floor.

"No....no....you're not." It replied. Then disappeared into nothingness as it died.

 

 

Part Fifteen

 

 

~~~ Day Two-Hundred and Forty Three ~~~

 

 

 

"Come on in, the water's lovely!"  Buffy called flirtatiously, a small smirk on her pretty face as she regarded her Mate's shocked expression with amusement.  She wiggled in the water, the light shimmering across the small ripples she created, as her petite breasts bounced gently on the surface.

 

A low, dangerous growl rumbled from deep within the Vampire’s chest as he took in the sight before him.

 

Without a word, the creature of the night dove smoothly into the clear, crystal surface.  He disappeared within the water, so deep that she couldn’t see him even through the practically transparent liquid in which she was bathing.

 

Buffy smiled, stretching out her senses in order to locate the Vampire, then shrieked as she was pulled beneath the waves, and cool fingers trailed possessively over her naked body.

 

In a flash his grinning game face leered above her, and her eyes sparkled in excitement.

 

The shriek that had dissolved into the water when she had been pulled under was let loose once more as the Slayer was tossed effortlessly into the air.  She flew vertically above the public bath, a delighted laugh tearing from her throat as her butterflies fluttered in her stomach from the velocity. 

 

An amused laugh rumbled from the Vampire below her as he watched his Slayer let loose all her inhibitions.  As she started to plummet to the water, he rose up in order to catch her and safely slide her beneath the cool liquid surface.

 

Her melodious laughter was cut off as his mouth descended on hers.  His tongue slid wetly over hers, massaging and titillating her senses.  Her fingers dug into his scalp, holding him to her lips, ensuring that he couldn’t leave…never leave her…

 

As if reading her mind, Spike’s arms wrapped tightly around her body as he rested her against the side of the pool.  Her body moulded to his as her legs slid around his waist, drawing his naked body even closer to hers.

 

Buffy shivered, the coolness of both the hard body in front of her, and the hard marble behind her turning her on more then she thought possible.  Spike’s mouth finally slid from hers, tonguing his way down her neck and across her collar bone, leaving her skin ablaze wherever he touched. 

 

He paused by her ear, rumbling words of love, security and affection as his adoring hands roamed her water-slick body.

 

With a low groan, unable to resist the temptation of the rock hard nipples he could feel burning into his chest, Spike slid further down her body.  His head was fully immersed in the water, but neither party truly noticed as the vamped Vampire’s rough tongue circled and tugged at Buffy’s pert, ruby red nipples.

 

Buffy moaned as sparks of lust soared through her veins and she rubbed frantically against his mouth, unintentionally piercing her flesh with one of his sharp fangs.

 

Spike growled loudly as Slayer-blood filled his mouth.  Refusing to loose any of the precious fluid to the water he rose up out of the bath, bending Buffy backwards over the pool-side as he continued to suckle at her weeping, blood stained bud.

 

With a shocked groan, Buffy came, arching and writhing against him.  Her nails clawed at his skull as she slowly descended from her high.  With a momentarily sated sigh she flopped back down, only her lover’s quick and careful hands keeping her from banging her head on the hard marble.

 

Realising that while sex in a pool sounded fun there were too many sharp edges for his Slayer to get hurt on while they were lost in the moment, Spike eased her body up over the edge and on to a bed of soft towels near by. 

 

Buffy barely noticed the movement, her body still buzzing with the tingles from her Vampire’s bite.  She quickly dropped back to earth when she felt her lover’s body lift from hers, only to moan loudly in supplication as his hands parted her thighs and his mouth opened against her.

 

“Spike…”

 

Her fingers dove into his soft, damp hair, tangling in the curls as his elongated tongue swept, circled and spanned her drenching entrance.  She cried out again as his much coveted organ thrust playfully into her pussy, drawing out her pleasure as his nose nudged her clit.

 

His face, which had returned to its more human planes, morphed when she rubbed her thighs against him, seeking the friction.  His features cracked with the change, and his tongue became rougher, causing Buffy to squeal in delight that her lover had done what she had silently pleaded for. 

 

Carefully he drew the throbbing bud into his mouth, all the while savouring her unique flavour on his enhanced taste buds.  His teeth nipped at her playfully, never breaking the skin, before he sucked on her clit – hard.

 

Buffy convulsed into orgasm with a shriek of his name: the sound reverberating around the old stone walls of the otherwise silent public pool.  Spike growled in satisfaction at the knowledge that his lover had been fulfilled once again.  His lust doubled for her, if that was even possible, as he gazed up into her eyes and saw nothing but love and devotion.

 

Even though he gazed up at his angel with the eyes of a demon.

 

“MINE!”  He growled.  All of a sudden it was imperative that he stake is claim, that the world know that this woman was indeed his. 

 

He crawled up her body, his eyes still on hers as he drove into her.  Her body arched up with a silent cry of ecstasy at finally being joined.  One that he only too willingly reciprocated. 

 

With hard, possessing strokes he slammed into her over and over again, causing their bodies to scratch over the piled towels and on to the cold marble floor. 

 

Neither noticed.

 

The room began to steam up, seemingly by the heat emanating from her body alone.  Spike’s growls and purrs rumbled around the room over the yips and shrieks of pleasure torn from Buffy’s mouth as she dragged her short nails down her his back.

 

Spike reared up at the scent of his own blood his amber eyes flashing with possession. 

 

“MINE!”  The claim was uttered once again before he swooped down, sinking his fangs deep within her jugular.

 

The two skyrocketed over the abyss and into their release with unholy screams and roars of liberation.

 

Heavily panting, Buffy’s head lolled to the side as her Vampire continued to tend to her neck.  “Yours.”  She whispered, completed and utterly replete.

 

Spike growled softly, before a purr boiled up in his chest, sounding through Buffy’s body and lulling her to sleep.

 

Together, they lay spent from their carnal coupling, limbs tangled and heart’s beating as one – even if only from borrowed Slayer blood.

 

Fangs still deep within Buffy’s neck, the two slowly fell asleep, calm and sated.

 

One final thought reverberated around Spike’s brain before he succumbed to sleep; *Unlife is… perfect!*

 

 

--- 

 

 

Back in Sunnydale…

 

 

 

“Is this okay, baby?”  Buffy called uncertainly across the open-plan downstairs to her lover.

 

Spike lifted his head, running a knowledgeable eye over her work.  With a nod he shouted back, “It’s great, pet; perfect – you done in there now?”

 

Buffy jogged over to where her Vampire was efficiently and effortlessly tacking and arranging screens and shutters over the beautifully wide and illustrious windows.  “Want me to do upstairs now?”

 

“Nah, love – got it earlier while you were out shopping with the Witch.”  Spike spared his love a smile as she reached up to help him hold the wood in place as he knocked in the final two nails.  “You hungry, ducks – mind your fingers!”

 

“Yes and minded!”  Buffy smiled lovingly at his worry, basking in it; never had she experienced anything quite so powerful outside of maternal love.

 

With expert hands he drew her unresisting body into his embrace, pressing her back to his chest as he moved them both to the kitchen.

 

“Fancy something big or just a snack?”  Spike asked as he guided them to the fridge and opened it before them, allowing them both to peruse the well stocked machine.

 

Buffy let her eyes roam the contents before falling on the eggs, “I was thinking something big, but actually I’d really like some of your scrambled eggs – that okay?”  She turned her head up to face his.

 

Spike smiled, dropping a kiss onto her perfectly placed lips.  “Always.”  He spun the Slayer around in his arms, continuing to softly sip at her lips as he walked her backwards.  When they were close enough to the countertop he slid his hands down over her bottom, using his grip on her to draw her gently up so that she could have a seat.

 

With one more lingering kiss he released her, pouting at her pout, “Baby…”

 

“Want you…”  Buffy moaned, dragging him back in between her legs by her grip on his belt-loops.  Just as he was about to give in her stomach rumbled loudly.

 

She giggled.  He sighed; “Food first, love.”  He decided with a nod, “Not having my girl starve.”

 

Buffy pouted as he left, but this time let him go with a mock salute, “Yes, Sir!”

 

Spike growled, “Don’t tempt me…”

 

“Oooh, naughty!”  Buffy teased, then leant back against her hands watching her lover move surely around their kitchen as he prepared what was sure to be a sumptuous feast.

 

She sighed silently to herself.

 

Life was….perfect.

 

 

 

Part Sixteen

 

 

~~~ Day Three Hundred and Fifteen ~~~

 

 

 

 

…Tick…

 

She paced towards the open window, trying desperately to ignore the bright sunlight streaming through the panes.  And trying desperately to ignore what said sunlight meant. 

 

…Tock…

 

…Tick…

 

And then she paced back towards the open door behind which Mabel nervously huddled, trying even more desperately to ignore the shadows that the sunlight cast in the supposedly cheery room.

 

…Tock…

 

…Tick…

 

…Tock…

 

Again, she lapped the room.  All the while desperately trying to ignore the beating of her heart and the wailing of her blood that pumped within her and cried out that she wasn’t doing all that she could.

 

And that something was deadly wrong.

 

…Tick…

 

…Tock…

 

“Arrrgh!”  Buffy screamed, her hands clenched into fists as they rose to her head in an attempt to beat away the painful thoughts and scenarios that were swirling in there.

 

Mabel rushed into the room at the sound of her distressed voice, propriety ignored in light of the worry she was feeling for her mistress.  When she entered the room, Buffy was in the middle of it, her hands pulling at her hair as two frustrated tears ran down her face and her eyes glared scornfully at the late morning sun.  With, careful and experienced hands Mabel extracted Buffy’s clenched fingers from her hair, and gently unwound the few strands that were still around her digits so that she couldn’t pull them out and hurt herself further. Then she motherly wiped the tears from Buffy’s stained, red cheeks.

 

…Tick…

 

“It’ll be alright, ma’am.  The master can look after himself.”  The old maid tried to reassure the Slayer, her voice comforting.

 

“Mabel – it’s daylight.  And he still isn’t back!  He’s never late.”  Buffy insisted her wild eyes flashing furiously – not at her old maid but the situation she was in – and she allowed herself to be guided on to the sofa behind them.  “I can’t believe he’s doing this to me!”

 

…Tock…

 

Mabel simply nodded, knowing her lady of old and that she needed to talk out her frustrations and anger as she no doubt was feeling cooped up as bound by society’s laws as she was.

 

“After all the care, and time we – you – spent making sure this house is sun proof for him and he can’t even come home?!” 

 

Her eyes flashed again as she recalled her frantic words this morning as the worry overtook her anger and she had hastily questioned Mabel upon waking and finding Spike gone: 

 

“What time did he leave?  Do you remember?”

 

…Tick…

 

The servant had shaken her head.  “I’m sorry, ma’am, I think it was late – Barrett said he, uh, Mr. Dartmoore, was in the library when he was sent to his chambers for the night.”

 

Buffy had searched the house, and then had it searched again, even though her spidey-senses were telling her he wasn’t home – she’d had to check.  Then the gardens, the fields…any possible place on their lands that Spike might have accidentally been captured by the sun in.  All to no avail.

 

When Buffy said nothing further, Mabel stood, releasing the hand she had been patting gently, and smiled softly at her once-ward.  “I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.  Would you like it in here or in the Green Room?”

 

…Tock…

 

Mabel’s offer seemed to wake Buffy from her trance of the past and she smiled as much as she was able to at the kind, old woman.  “Here’ll be fine – thank you, Mabel.”

 

“Not a worry.”  The maid murmured, and then left silently, deciding to give the young woman a few moments to herself.

 

…Tick…

 

Buffy sighed, as the door shut, the sound barely perceptible even to her sensitive ears.  She knew Mabel was right, that Spike could look after himself – hell, out of the two of them he was the one who was more used to this era; despite them having lived here together for almost a year Buffy still got caught out at times.  But she couldn’t shake this feeling of helplessness that was almost consuming her, made worse still by the conflicting emotions within her about her lover being the one missing.

 

They had been together for ten months and over that time Buffy had felt the subtle, and not so subtle, changes in her feelings for the bleached Vampire.  Lust had turned to desire, which had turned to affection, which in turn was turning to lo-.

 

She didn’t want to admit it; didn’t want to acknowledge it – she couldn’t, not now – not while he was missing and she was alone.  If she had been at home she could have called, or scoured the small town in comfort and style…preferably with a car to save her new Prada boots which she still hadn’t got to wear yet.

 

*If we were at home we wouldn’t be together so this wouldn’t be a problem.*

 

Buffy shivered in repressed pain at the thought of them not being, well, them.  That was the one thing that she didn’t think she could ever give up when they got home from their ‘extended holiday’ as Spike liked to refer to it. 

 

If they ever got home. 

 

That feeling of utter helplessness overwhelmed her again, and her frustration at not being in control of the situation brought her back to her current dilemma at a screeching halt.  What was she going to do?  She wasn’t in Sunnydale anymore, hell – she even wasn’t in 1998 anymore!  

 

She couldn’t just go out, and get a latte.  Couldn’t just go to browse for shoes…or wear some slacks.

 

…Tock…

 

Couldn’t even go online and pretend to know what she was doing!

 

And worst of all, she couldn’t go out and look for her husband all because she was in 18-fucking-73 and as such she was bound by their rules and their etiquette.  By the stupid laws of the time – as though she was just some damsel in distress!  It wasn’t just her that was being bound – it was the Slayer. 

 

And the Slayer didn’t appreciate being held prisoner.

 

Not anywhere.  Not anytime.

 

And not by anyone.

 

…Tick…

 

Buffy growled, frustration at Spike being gone, frustration at being trapped in this house – this time – overcoming her and causing her Slayer to begin begging once more for release.  And for once, Buffy couldn’t find a damn reason why she shouldn’t!

 

And to top it all off she missed her Mom.

 

Her bed.

 

Mr. Gordo.

 

…Tock…

 

Buffy shook her head to try and move away from those even more depressing thoughts, and focus on her anger.  Anger was good.  Anger at Spike was great.  Hell, anger at Spike was natural!

 

Again, she growled and stood up to resume her pacing, not even noticing when Mabel re-entered the room to place down a tray of tea and biscuits on a table as far from the Slayer as possible – as she was quite fond of that tea set, and didn’t fancy sacrificing it to her Mistresses fury – and then left just as quietly.

 

…Tick…

 

Buffy turned sharply on her heels, her eyes flicking briefly to the note she had found this morning beside her pillow that was resting next to the spot she had just been seated on. 

 

She had woken this morning, feeling brilliant. 

 

Refreshed.

 

Wonderful.

 

She had been exhausted from the past few night’s entertainment so they had decided on a night in so that she could rest up – and she had.  But apparently someone had decided the plan wasn’t good enough and had gone out…on his own.  Alone.

 

…Tock…

 

It was now almost midday.  And she was the one who was alone.

 

After she had read the ridiculous note telling her not to worry Buffy had practically flown into her clothes and down the stairs, demanding a full search of the house and grounds.  When that had proved fruitless, she had insisted a driver take her to town to begin looking for him.  They had searched every place she could think of and then some.  But each and every place resulted with no reward. 

 

…Tick…

 

And when Buffy had asked to be taken into the rougher side of town the driver, Percy, had refused!  Saying that he was on strict orders from Mr. Dartmoore that he never take her through that way without the Master as an escort!  And since he was the one with the reigns the usually in charge Slayer could do nothing more as he turned the carriage around sharpish.  She had simply to be content with his promise to return after he had dropped her off at the manor and search himself. 

 

Percy had returned an hour later.  Also alone.

 

…Dong!…

 

The first strike of the clock alarmed Buffy and she looked up in shock.

 

Midday, it was midday.

 

…Dong!…

 

The most harmful time of the day, and Spike was places unknown.  Perhaps without shelter, in danger…

 

…Dong!…

 

And she could do nothing.

 

…Dong!…

 

No matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t find him.

 

…Dong!…

 

She was a hunter, but she couldn’t find her mate.

 

…Dong!…

 

She was alone.

 

…Dong!…

 

Without her old friends or family.

 

…Dong!…

 

Without her resources.

 

…Dong!…

 

Without her freedom!

 

…Dong!…

 

“Shut up!”  She screamed at the infuriating clock, picking up a nearby china vase and hurling it at the offending wooden object.  However, the clock was of sturdier build than the vase, despite having Slayer strength behind it, and the latter smashed loudly on impact.

 

…Dong!…

 

The pottery slid to the ground, not even scratching the old woodwork as it went, and the beautiful flowers it had once contained, the flowers that Spike had brought for her two nights previous lay strewn on the floor.

 

And still the clock continued to toll, as if it were fulfilling a morbid desire to cause her anguish by reminding her of her hopelessness.  By reminding her of her inability, her powerlessness, her uselessness.

 

…Dong!…

 

Buffy slumped boneless to the ground as helplessness over took her, and she buried her head in her hands.

 

…Dong!…

 

And she cried.

 

 

 

  

To Be Continued…

 

A/N:  I hope you enjoyed!  I know it's been long enough!  As always do let me know....and if you're so inclined ::