Summary: Buffy and Spike get thrown into another dimension...or is it?
Time line: Season Three (ish)...rely on nothing but what happened in earlier seasons!
Rating: A (NC-17)
URL: http://www.morbiddesires.com/MD
Feedback: Yes! Please! Always! morbiddesiresbypassionfish@yahoo.com
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:: NAVIGATION BAR ::
:: One :: Two :: Three :: Four :: Five :: Six :: Seven :: Eight :: Nine :: Ten :: Eleven :: Twelve :: Thirteen :: Fourteen :: Fifteen :: Sixteen ::
:: Seventeen :: Eighteen :: Nineteen :: Twenty :: Twenty-One :: Twenty-Two :: Twenty-Three :: Epilogue ::
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.
~~ 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."
~~ 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.
~~~ 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 20th 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.
~~~ 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