Who is Who ((COMPLETED))

Chapter 9, Never Boring

"What the bloody hell is happening this time?" Spike growled groggily, shaking his head trying to clear his scrambled thoughts. “Only in SunnyHell – never boring.” He knew he’d only been unconscious for a second or two since he could still feel the fear from a few moments ago. Not for himself but for Dawn, who had been suddenly dragged off by a demon, and then for the Slayer when she had disappeared down a grave. But not a grave - it had been a trap. And a right successful one from the looks of it.

Of course, his first coherent thoughts were for Buffy who had unfortunately broken his fall. Not that she was aware of it. By way of his usual thoughts, being on top of her should have been a good thing. He had certainly dreamed about it enough but not under these circumstances. Straddling one foot on each side to get his weight off her, he pulled her up next to him. He could hear her heart beating steadily and could feel her pulse strong. Buffy, however, was still out cold, and what still worried him was that he could smell her blood. Spike quickly found a fresh wound on the back of her head. The Slayer must have hit her head as she had fallen in the trap. No wonder she was out. The cut was about two inches long and was still slowly oozing.

The intoxicating smell of the slayer blood filled the small container, surrounding him, almost overwhelming in its intensity. Almost but not quite. Spike was relieved that the smell of the potent elixir didn’t involuntarily bring his demon to the forefront. Even after inspecting the wound and getting blood on his hands and clothes, the demon still stayed in check.

But Spike had need of the demon now. Resolved, he unleashed his demon and all of its rage on their cage. Bang, shove, punch, kick, pull – all for nothing. Bugger it, the trap dt evt even budge. However, his efforts were hindered by the cramped quarters and fear of hurting the Slayer further.

Giles’ teachings came back to him, curse the bloke. Research first the Watcher always preached Feeling around, Spike could tell they were in an oversized steel drum about three foot wide and four foot tall. The top that they had both fallen through was now covered by a steel plate with only two small holes for air and restricted both the vamp’s hearing and vision. Nevertheless, that was his only view out, which was straight up. Due to the motion of their cage and the occasional squeak of wheels, he knew that they were moving at a steady pace. There was no sound of an engine. Accordingly, some wankers must be pushing them to their mystery destination. From the size of the cage, Spike suspected they must have only been expecting the Slayer. That should throw the stupid gits a curve ball when they find two snared in the trap instead of one.

But if he had to do it again, Spike would not have changed his actions. Thinking back, he knew without a single doubt, without hesitation, he would have jumped in after his Slayer. No regrets and no way anyone was taking her without going through him first. This Alpha blighter would surely pay - as soon as they figured a way out of this right muck up.

With that resolved for the time being, Spike settled back to play the waiting game, to think and to enjoy being this close to Buffy again. He gingerly moved her, wrapping himself around her to protect her from any further bumps and strived to get his bearings by way of his limited view.

As for their location, Spike could tell they were still in the sewer system, but he didn't know the ceilings of the sewers well enough to recognize any landmarks, let alone know exactly where they were. Due to few turns taken, Spike also surmised that they were moving steadily in approximately one direction and that they were quite a distance from the original trap when they finally made a very brief stop.

Spike heard what he guessed to be a metal door slide out of the way before they continued on their way. The new path was considerably less bumpy, and the ceiling also changed. Now he was looking up at a concrete ceiling with the occasional, industrial-looking light fixtures. When they paused again, he could hear muffled voices for the first time. "...only suppose to get the Slayer....will have to eliminate the vampire..." Another door opened, allowing them to move a few more feet. Unceremoniously, the barrel was violently shoved over onto its side. Spike could hear footsteps swiftly retreat, “…Alpha wanted to play with the girl before killing… dust the vamp first.” Then the metal door slammed shut.

Instantly, Spike was at the lid again, but this time with success. The barrel’s crash on its side must have jarred a weld enough to allow him to break free. He was out in a flash but quickly yelling in frustration. “Bullocks! All that to finally escape out into *another* cell.” These buggers weren’t taking any chances or they must not have intended the Slayer to stay in the barrel because the construction of the barrel versus the new cell was worlds apart. The walls of their new cage were solid concrete except for the door made out of two inch thick rebar. Breaking out was not a possibility – yet, he thought grinning to himself. But again, the gits had not been expecting two. That little twist of fate was on their side, and Spike was confident that they could play the surprise to their advantage.

That brought his thoughts back to the Slayer. Walking quickly back to the barrel, he pulled Buffy gently out, laying her by the far wall opposite the cell door. Thankful for the button down he wore over his t-shirt, Spike took it off and made a pillow in his lap, settling her head the best he could. The vampire’s concern for the Slayer being unconscious so long was beginning to overshadow his concern for their captivity. None of this, nothing, would be worth it if she didn’t wake up.

*****

Instead of dealing with a barrel on its side, the Scoobies were dealing with a different type of ‘side.’ That was Clem's overly cautious, chicken side, and they didn’t mean the fried kind.

Clem was shaking his head adamantly while staring wide-eyed down the hole that Spike and Buffy had disappeared down. "You want me to do what?" He backed quickly up form the edge. "I don't do sewers. Besides, I have a pizza getting cold.” He turned to leave as if that statement explained it all.

With Willow’s assistance, Xander was busy securing a rope for them to scale down the hole which left Dawn to handle Clem. Keeping a firm grip on his arm, Dawn pulled him back to the faux grave. "Clem, you said your species had a keen sense of smell, and you know Spike's scent. We need you to help track them."

“Willow, Dawn, we are about ready.” Xander checked the last knot. “We've got to go. I'll go first. Will, next lower the weapons down. Then send Clem." He disappeared down the opening, and then those left above saw the beam of his flashlight waving in wide arcs.

“Well?” Willow leaned over the edge, calling down. "What do you see?"

Dawn and Clem could also hear Xander’s reply. "I'm in the sewer system, but there are three ways we can go from here. Ok, Will, I am ready for the weapons."

As Willow proceeded to send down quite an array of weaponry, Dawn gave Clem another try. "Clemy, you can do it. You've got to do it." Dawn pleaded. "You'll be a great blood hound. See, you already have the floppy ears and wrinkles."

Having finished with the weapons, Willow turned to help Dawn handle the reluctant demon. "We need to send Clem down now so he can start his smell search." Carefully schooling her features to her best authoritative face, Willow addressed the would-be tracker. "Clem, we need you. Now get down there!"

"No, no. I am more of a stay at home guy. Couch potato – yep, that's me." He nodded his head so vigorously, setting all his wrinkles in motion.

Having come up with a sure way to he Cle Clem, Dawn wanted to thump her own forehead for not thinking of it sooner. "There’s a month’s supply of buffalo wings in it for you?" Dawn offered enticingly.

This finally stopped the timid demon’s retreat. “Two months … with BBQ sauce?”

“Sure!” Dawn wanted to jump for joy, but instead, she settled for a hand shake.

"Deal. How do I get down? … Oh, that looks rough. Got any gloves for me to use on that rope?"

*****

While the gang was trying to get down in the tunnels, Spike was trying to figure a way out as his concern for the Slayer steadily increased. He checked the injury at the back of her head again. There was lots of drying blood tangling the back of her hair, but, good, the bleeding had stopped.

Patting her ks, ks, “Come on, love. Nap time over.” No answer so he shook her a little. “We need to get out of this amateur slayer trap and soon. You silly bint, if anyone gets to catch you, it should e, ye, ya know. Not some freakish bird demon.” He knew he was babbling, but he had to do something or go crazy.

Sensing a change, Spike let out the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding when he felt Buffy slowly wake. Buffy opened her eyes to focus immediately on the vamp’s face above her, surprising Spike with her first two words. “Hello, Cutie.” She said it so softly he could barely hear her. But hear her he did, bringing the first smile to his face since the Chinese Fire Drill.

Thanks to the Slayer, though, the smile was hastily wiped from his face as she crooked a finger at him, beckoning him down closer. Closer and closer, nose almost touching nose, heads tilting until their lips met in a kiss that melted away his immediate concerns for her welfare. Surely somebody seriously injured couldn’t make such a simple kiss so hot and so arousing. Spike pulled back to look into her eyes, looking for any signs of pain. He started to ask but was at a loss of words as he watched her tongue sweep out to lick her lips, leaving no doubt that the kiss had been as intentional as it had been sensual. Before he could collect his thoughts enough to speak, a slow, mischievous smile spread across her face. Buffy’s hand snaked up, wrapping around the back of his neck and firmly pulling his lips again down to hers. The first kiss had been hesitant, but this one’s fierce intensity quickly grew.

This was the Buffy of Spike’s dreams. While his lips were so deliciously intimate with hers, surely it was safe to put his hands on her face. However, he hesitated to move his hands from anywhere but her face, scared to interrupt this waking dream. Finally realizing that she needed to breathe, he pulled back and watched her mouth issue one more word, “Yum,” before her eyes shut again.

Spike could tell from her breathing, she had passed back out. ‘Wow’ was the only rational thought his shocked brain could make. Literally shaking himself, he needed to let her rest, he reasoned with himself. She would need all her strength for their escape. Not to mention he wanted to savior a little longer the lingering taste of her lips and gather his thoughts in peace.

Unknowingly keeping his hand nestled against her cheek, ‘Let’s think of a plan before waking the little temptress back up.’ Laughing to himself, he thought about how many kissing had ended with her slugging him. He lightly took her hand in his, turning it over, admiring its grace. Maybe it would be wise to move across the cell before she woke up next. That hand could pack quite a punch, but with that thought, also came the beginnings of a plan.

w miw minutes later, Spike was so caught up in his planning that didn’t even notice when Buffy woke up again. “Is that humming in my head or a new form of torture? And who did I need to kill for this little adventure?” Spike smiled at the Slayer as she struggled to sit up across from him and cradle the back of her head.

“We can go hunting, Sleeping Beauty, as soon as we get out of this castle’s dungeon. *But*… I do have a plan.”

Taking in the vampire’s cocky, trademark grin and twinkle in his eyes, the Slayer laughed knowingly. “Now *that* scares me.”

Cocking his eye brow, Spiked tried his best to look indignant. “I’m crushed. You were the inspiration, Slayer. A bloody inspiration!”

*****

After tracking Spike and Buffy for over an hour, the Scoobies noticed the tunnels changed from for the old, irregular ones to increasingly newer ones. The sides of the floor sloped to the middle for improved drainage with a small trickle of water going through, and they eventually noticed that they were always traveling with the current. Xander plunged right down the middle, while the others skipped over puddles and garbage trapped along the sides.

Dawn was following Clem as they both tried to avoid a large pile of trash. “Big Ew. This stuff really stinks.”

“Smell? I can get things in my folds that will take weeks to find.” For about the millionth time, Clem brushed at his arms, but thumpeumped in surprise. "What was that?”

Xander replied, exasperation clear in his voice, "Just another rat. Keep moving."

"I hate rates. Did I tell you I hate rats? Love kittens but hate rats."

Enough was enough. Xander stopped, turning to glare at Clem. "I will give your poker kitty back if you will just find Buffy. Anyways, he thinks my potted plants are kitty litter boxes."

When they came to another fork in the tunnels, Willow turned to Clem. “Well, which way?”

“Go to the right. Definitely the right.”

They followed the demon a few steps before, “No, that’s Dominoe’s Pizza. Sorry, my bad. It must have been the left.”

After another 100 feet or so through the left tunnel, Dawn thought her ears were starting to ring. “What’s that humming noise? It sounds like those huge fans at school, and its getting louder.”

Xander, mostly talking to himself, “I thought it sounded like one of those vibrating beds in motels.” The ree realized he had said this aloud and that everyone had stopped to gape at him. “I’ve traveled. I’ve been around. You know, that summer I went to tour America and just ended up stranded in a dive for the summer.” He just decided to walk on. “It gave a great massage.”

For a short time, the tunnel became narrow. Willow in fact bumped the sharp edge of a corner and noticed a scrap of fabric where someone else had obviously left for the same reason. Thrilled with her discover, she turned to the demon, “Oh, Clem, what does this smell like?”

Clem takes it, smells it, looks funny then smells it again. “Maybe they are share clothing?”

Dawn spoke up for all of them. “Ok, you really lost us there.”

“This fabric, it smells like it was off two or three different demons, not just one. But we are on the right path.”

*****

”What, are you nuts?" Buffy yelled while socking Spike in the jaw, snapping his head sideways.

"Me...ME?” Spike retuned with a kick to her stomach knocking her against the far wall. "I'm not the one with the bed head."

The Slayer and vampire exchanged more powerful blows.

"You left us..."

"No choice, pet.”

“Why? And don’t call me ‘pet.’” More blows were exchanged.

“You know why, PET. You were there.”

Their yells were loud enough to rattle the bars of the door, bringing the guards running.

Spike continued the physical and verbal barrage. “Attack in the bathroom. No trust. Ring a bell??”

Two guards slammed the door open and rushed in the cell. Buffy collapsed to the floor in a heap as the two guards pinned Spike up against the wall. "Stop. Stop. We can’t have you killing her. Alpha wants the pleasure of killing the Slayer for himself."

"Fine, mate. A little kinky, is the bird-man? Likes his pleasure on the rough side, does he?" Spike still managed to smirk with one of the guard’s forearm pressicroscross his wind pipe and vocal chords. “He’d better because I’m going to enjoy watching her kick his sorry arse.” Not struggling, Spike watched Buffy silently get to her feet behind the guards’ backs.

“Rude much? Nobody asked me what I find ‘pleasurable’?” As the guards spun around to confront Buffy, she dealt them a left and a right each, sending them back into the grinning vampire.

In a move worthy of Moe in the Three Stooges, Spike slammed their heads together, and the guards went down in a pile.

“Do you think it was good for them?” Buffy said with innocent, wide eyes. “It was good for me.”

As their running out of the cell, Spike waggled his eye brows suggestively. “Let’s go see just how rough Feather Brain likes it.”

With a sly smile, Buffy briefly met his eyes. “At least I won’t have to get grass stains out of my jacket this time.”

Quickly recovering from a Buffy sexual innuendo – and to him especially, Spike quipped, “No, but maybe some road rash from all this concrete.”

“This from the man who thinks the lid of a sarcophagus is all comfy cozy.”

Taking note of her use of the word ‘man’ instead of demon or monster, Spike smiled as they headed down the hall with no idea where they were but sure someone did and would be looking for them soon. Despite their present situation, some things were definitely looking up.


TBC