Spike heard ringing. He frowned, eyes shut, trying to block the noise off. "Stop your bloody ringing, Quasimodo," he muttered, snuggling further into the warm body in front of him. His eyes opened and he sat halfway up, looking down at the warm body. "And baby bear said, whossat seepin' in my bed?"

The amount of alcohol consumed by the vampire the previous night caused him not only to go to bed intoxicated, but wake up much the same way. It had only been a few hours since he nodded off, sending him into technicolor dreams of Buffy on a mountain side singing out 'Ricola' in a old Dutch dress as she was being screwed by him while he was wearing leiderhosen.

"Looky what I found," Spike said in a astonished stage whispered. "There'sa Schlayer in my bed." He let out a little giggle, then the ringing started again. His blurry eyes darted around the room, looking for the source. Finding the phone on the desk, he crawled to the end of the bed and got up to answer it.

"Ring around the rosies, pockets full of posies," he sang in deep voice as he walked over to the phone. "Ashles, ashles, the dead fall down." He picked up the portable off the charger and the line opened automatically. Putting the phone to his ear, he said, "I wanna large Italian to go, hodda mudstache."

"H-Hello?" Giles said on the other end of the line. "I am trying to reach Buffy, please. Have I got the-the, er, right number?"

"Buffy, the vampire Schlayer?" Spike replied. "Why does she gotta schlay vampires? Why can't she jus' fuck 'em? Fuck 'em over an' over 'til they eschplode! Poof!"

"Um, to wh-wh-whom am I speaking with?" Giles asked.

"'S'me," he answered. "Who'syou?"

"Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy asked, having woken up by his loud 'poof.' She didn't even bother to blush or hide her gaze as her eyes traveled down over his back, over his still bare ass and down the muscular legs. Then, he turned and she got yet another eyeful of Spike and smiled a purely feminine smile of appreciation. *He is one fine specimen of male. Yum,* she thought.

"I's on the phone, shhh," Spike told her, holding his finger to his lips.

"Oh god, you're still drunk," Buffy moaned, getting out of bed and walking over to him. "Normal people wake up with hangovers. You wake up plastered." She started to take the phone from him, but he held onto it, a frown marring his face.

"Mine!" Spike said, pulling it back from her.

"Spike, give me the phone," she told him, tugging on it.

"No, mine," he repeated, tugging back. "Mine, mine."

"Now, Spike," she demanded, yanking on it.

"R2, let 'em have it," he replied in a bad Mark Hammil impersonation, still not letting go.

Buffy growled at him, then reached around and goosed him with her other hand. Spike yelped, letting go of the phone as he spun around. She put the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"

"Buffy?"

"Hey, Giles," she replied, watching as the blond vampire began looking for who goosed him. She really needed to get some clothes on him soon. Seeing him prowl around naked was playing havoc on her libido. "What's up at...three o'clock in the morning? Ugh, is it that early yet?"

"Was that Spike?" Giles asked, the confusion evident in his voice.

"All five foot ten of him," she confirmed.

As the conversation went on behind him, Spike opened the top drawer of Buffy's dresser and began pawing through the clothing. He pulled out a purple, lace bra and turned, closing one eye and holding it up so it looked, to him, like she was wearing it. "I like your naughty bits, Schlayer," he said.

He turned back to the dresser, sliding the straps up his arms before continuing to dig through the drawer. He grabbed a pair of striped socks that had toes in them and flopped onto the floor, pulling them over his feet and up to his knees. Then, he leaned forward and opened the bottom drawer, moving so he was sitting on his heels in front of it.

"Come 'long an' sing a schong an' join our fambily," Spike sang, pulling out a pair of Mickey Mouse ears and plunking them on his head. "M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E."

"Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy asked, covering up the mouthpiece on the phone.

"I's lookin' for my lost shaker of schalt," he replied, pulling out a long, blue scarf and tying it around his waist.

"Buffy?" Giles voice came over the line.

"Still here," Buffy told him. "I'll be there in about twenty minutes, as soon as I figure out a way to lock Spike in here so he doesn't give mom a heart attack." She said goodbye and disconnected.

"Schlayer? Why do you got one a dese?" Spike asked. "You gotta Spike, you don't need one a dese."

Buffy blushed beet red and snatched the vibrator out of his hand, throwing it back in the drawer and shoving it closed. "Stay out of my drawers," she told him.

"But I like it in your drawers," he complained. "You's gotta soft arse."

"And you have a naked one," she replied, moving to her closet. "Which we are going to cover right now."

Spike's eyes widened comically as he looked down in his lap. "I's nekked!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Buffy said, grabbing an old pair of sweats off her top shelf. She figured they'd be a little small, but at least he'd be wearing something.

"'Zat make you Doctor Wasson?" he asked, staring up at her, mouse ears perched precariously on his blond head. "Wanna play doctor on me?"

"No, I don't want to play doctor on you," she replied, throwing the sweats at him. "Put those on."

"Don' wanna," he stated, folding his arms over the purple bra he was half wearing.

"You have got to be the most annoying vampire on the face of the earth," Buffy growled, stomping over to him and knocking him on his back. She grabbed his legs and straightened them, then shoved his feet through the sweats. Straightening, she marched over by his head and hoisted him to his striped sock clad feet, then yanked the sweats up.

Stepping back, she eyed him critically, trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sight he made in the striped socks, short tight grey sweats and a purple bra. Luckily, he had lost the mouse ears, or she would have been done for. As it was, it was all she could do not to find her camera and get a picture of him.

"Ok, Spike. I have to go. Why don't you try to sleep," she suggested, sliding on her own socks and gym shoes.

"I wanna go wit' you," Spike replied, watching her as she put on a coat.

"No," she answered, pulling her hair up into a pony tail.

"Why not?"

"Drunk vampires are not allowed," Buffy explained. "Now, go to bed."

"Fine," Spike said, sticking out his lower lip and walking over to the bed. "I didn't wanna bloody go, anyway."

Buffy sighed and looked up at the ceiling in a patented 'why me' gesture. "Goodnight, Spike."

"Bye, Schlayer," he replied, having slid onto the bed, but still pouting.

She shook her head and made sure the lock was turned on her way out the door. She was glad her mother was a heavy sleeper. She would rather not try to explain the inebriated vampire in her bedroom wearing her bra. With a giggle at the image he had made, she quietly sneaked down the stairs and out the front door into the night.

Little did she realize that said inebriated vampire was very persistent in wanting to go with her. The moment she had closed the bedroom door, he was unsteadily on his feet amidst the sea of empty bottles. However, being inebriated made for him being easily distracted as he looked down and grinned.

"It'sa Rusky!" Spike exclaimed, bending to pick up the last full bottle from his bag. It took several tries for him to open the vodka, but once done, he had it drained in less than a minute. "Danka," he told the empty bottle before tossing it to the floor with the others.

Staring at the floor, his eyes lit up. He none too steadily hurried over to the desk, stopping long enough to plop the mouse ears back on his head, and grabbed some loose notebook paper and a pen. Then, returning to the other side, he sat on the floor and began to write. "I'll send an SOS to the world, I'll send and SOS to the world," he sang as he rolled the sheet up and stuck it in an empty bottle. "I hope that someone gets my, I hope that someone gets my, messhage in a bottle. Yeah. Messhage in a bottle. Yeah."

Spike continued to sing off key as he filled each and every empty bottle on the floor. When the last one was filled, he tapped the pen on the glass and finished the song with a flourish. "Yo ho ho, an' a bottle ovrum."

As carefully as a plowed vampire could be, he gathered the bottles up, putting them in the large, black bag. Then, he stood and made his way over to the bedroom door. He tried to open it, but found it locked. "Hey! It's schtuck!"

Setting down the bag, he put one foot on the door jam, grabbed the knob with both hands, and pulled as hard as he could. The door flew open as the lock broke, sending him falling backwards heavily onto the floor, knocking the shirt Buffy had been wearing earlier that evening onto his lap as his arm hit the desk chair. "Wassis?" he said as he picked it up, holding it out in front of him. "It'sa Schlayer shirt." He inhaled the scent, then let it drape over his face as he lay there for several minutes, smiling under the shirt.

Eventually he sat up and looked around the room. He spotted the bag on the floor and snickered. Plopping the mouse ears back on his head, he stood again, shouldered the bag and made his way back to the bathroom. Once there, he knelt in front of the tub and turned on the water, pushing the drain stopper. As it started to fill, he began removing the bottles from the bag and put them into the water. "In a town, where I was born. There lived a man, who sailed the schea. An' he lived a life 'lone in his lellow submarine."

Soon, the tub was packed with bottles, each with a slip of paper rolled inside. He shut off the water and sat back on his heels, waiting. "Hey, your supposeda go ta sea," he told the bottles. "Jus' like a lellow submarine. But watch out for the big blue meanies, the wankers."

After a few more minutes, Spike got bored and stood up. He spotted the vanilla body wash on the floor and smiled. "Cap'n Nemo! Wanna go for a schwim?" he asked before adding it to the already full tub. "Say hello to the scheep!"

With a final wave to the bottles, the bra wearing Mouseketeer turned off the light, ambled out of the bathroom and down the stairs. "It'slinky, it'slinky, it's fun it'sa wonerful toy, it's fun for a girl an' a boy," he sang quietly as he hopped down the last three steps. Once on the main floor, he grabbed the end of the banister and swung himself around the corner, pretending to launch himself down the short hall to the kitchen. His striped, toed socks slid on the floor as he tried to stop, sending him into another fit of drunken laughter.

Spike went over to the refrigerator first, opening it up, then closing it, then reopening it. He continued to do this rapidly over and over until he glared inside. "Where'sa penguin?" he said. But instead of a cartoon animal, he found a bottle of red wine. "Ooh, looky what Spikey found."

Forgoing the corkscrew, he slid into game face and stuck his fang into the cork and yanked. It popped loudly as it came out, causing him to jerk his arm. A shower of red wine hit him in the chest and on the sweats. "I've been hit!" Spike gasped around the cork stuck on his canine. He looked down at himself and staggered, the purple bra falling off of him and to the ground. "Carter, we gotta gsw to the tummy. Gonna have ta operate! Stat!"

Somehow, the bottle of wine ended up on the counter without spilling onto the floor as the vampire went into dramatics. "Alas, poor Spike, we knew him as a bloody good bloke," he said sadly, clutching his stomach. He staggered slightly and bumped the refrigerator, closing the door. "Always carin' 'bout his fellow vamp, liked to schag the Schlayer 'til she could no longer walk. What a man 'e was, 'tis a bleedin' shame."

He thunked his head on the freezer door, then turned and glared at it. "Hey, watch where your goin' mate," he told it. Then, he grabbed the handle and pulled, sending a gust of cold air into his face. "Brr, chiwwy, wiwwy," he muttered, shivering.

Spike's bloodshot gaze caught sight of the carton of chocolate ice cream and he grabbed it with a delighted shout. "Whoopie, I scream, you scream, Spike screams for I'scream," he sang loudly, bouncing on his toes. He stepped away from the freezer and set the carton on the island, then went in search of a spoon.

The light suddenly went on above him and he turned quickly. "Who did dat?"

"Spike?" Joyce questioned, staring confusedly at the blond vampire.

"Hello, Joyce," Spike greeted cheerfully, giving her a toothy, corked grin.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, folding her arms over her robe.

"I's eatin' I'scream," he replied, pointing to the carton. "Want some?"

"At four in the morning? Wearing Mickey Mouse ears?"

"Yup yup," he said, mimicking Ducky from The Land Before Time.

Joyce shook her head and walked over to him, reaching out to pull the cork off his fang. "Are you drunk?"

"'Pends," Spike said, his face morphing back to human. "Are you the coppers?"

"No," she replied.

"Then I's right tanked," he answered, puffing up his chest proudly. "An' I's gonna have some I'scream."

"Why don't you sit down," Joyce told him, pushing him slightly towards the stools. When he went, she got out a spoon and handed it to him, then started the coffee. "Is there any particular reason why you're drunk?"

"The Schlayer don't love me," Spike replied, digging into the ice cream. "An' I lovver whole bunches."

Joyce stopped and turned to him. "You're in love with Buffy?"

"S'right," he nodded, taking a large bite. "Mmm, cowd."

"When did this happen?"

"Don' know," Spike answered, continuing to eat right out of the carton. Little did he know that more was getting on him than in his mouth. "Jus' do. Lots an' lots."

"What is it with my daughter and vampires?" Joyce muttered, turning back to the coffee. Behind her, the plowed vampire began making airplane noises as he ate. "Well, at least this time it's a vampire I like."

"Joyce, are ya schure you don' want no I'scream?" Spike asked. "On 'cuzzov I's gonna eat it all up, like a good boy. Mum says to eat ev'ra thing on the plate, or no 'sert."

"That's quite alright, Spike," she replied, reaching for a mug to pour the coffee. "You go ahead and finish it."

Buffy walked in the back door at that moment, staring confusedly at her mom before she spotted the vampire. "Spike, how did you get out?" She tried not giggle at the picture he made, sitting at the island with chocolate all over his face and hands, mouse ears firmly on his blond head.

"Buffy, you knew he was here?" Joyce asked, shutting off the coffee maker.

"Yeah. I got home around eleven and found him in our bath tub, drunk as a skunk," she told her mom. "I locked him in my bedroom after an emergency Slayer meeting was called. Guess I underestimated Mickey."

"I's not Mickey, I's Spikey," Spike declared, then stuck the plastic spoon in his mouth for emphasis.

"What you should be is in bed," Buffy scolded with mock ire. She rolled her eyes at her mom as he started shaking his head no. "Why don't you go ahead back to bed, mom. I'll take care of the pest."

"Alright, honey," Joyce replied, giving one last look to the inebriated vampire. She decided it wasn't her secret to tell that he was in love with her daughter. "Ice pack is under the sink. I have a feeling that, come morning, he's going to need it."

"I have no doubt," she agreed. "Night, mom."

"Night, mum," Spike echoed around the spoon, waving. Joyce sighed and left the kitchen.

"You do know that your a pain, don't you?" Buffy asked him after her mom had left. He grinned at her. "Thought so. Come on, Mr. Messy. Looks like you get yet another bath. I should start charging you by the liter."

"Like petrol?" Spike questioned as she threw out the empty ice cream carton. She tried to take the spoon, but he refused to let go. "Hey, that's my schpoon. You can't 'ave it. Not 'less you gimme a kiss."

Buffy gave him a 'you wish' glance and let him keep the spoon. She grabbed him none too gently by the arm and started out of the kitchen, stopping only briefly to pick up her discarded purple bra. Once upstairs, she pushed him into the bathroom, then turned on the light. "What did you do now?" she sighed, staring at the bottle filled bath tub.

Spike had sat down on the closed toilet seat and was staring up at her with a half-lidded gaze, spoon still in his mouth. "Schlayer, I's schleepy."

She looked at the chocolate covered vampire and rubbed her face tiredly. "I am, too," she replied. She shut the bathroom door and grabbed the washrag and bar of soap. "We're going to have to give you a sponge bath without the sponge, because I don't want to take the time removing all those bottles."

"There's messhages in the bottles," he told her after taking the spoon out of his mouth. "Don' tell no one, cuz they'sa secret."

"Ok, I won't," she said, taking the spoon from him, then removing the mouse ears and the scarf around his waist. "Stand up." He stood and she pulled down the soaked sweats. "You know, I've seen more of you today than I ever cared to see before. Sit."

Spike sat and she finished removing the sweats and socks. Taking the washrag, she got it wet and soapy, then began to clean him off. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she muttered. Then, he started to purr and her toes curled. "Well, maybe I have some idea."

Once re-cleaned, she rinsed out the rag and hung it on the towel bar, then dried him off. Somehow, she got the naked vampire back on his feet and down the hall to her bedroom. "Woah, deja vu," she said as she helped him into bed. This time, however, after she changed into a pair of boxers and a new t-shirt, she slid under the covers with him. He immediately put his arm around her waist and curled around her body, still purring. "'Night Spike. I don't envy you when you finally wake up."

With that, she turned off the light and drifted off to sleep, not once caring that she was sharing a bed with her one time mortal enemy.

Who was in love with her.

End >

Part Five

"We only have little more than half an hour until we get picked up." Angel's voice seemed to echo, despite the quietness of his voice, when the silence was finally broken. He removed his hand from Spike's grasp and rolled out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower," he told them as he gathered his clothing, then left the room.

Spike felt immediately bereft after his sire had left. He felt bare, exposed, unprotected without the older vampire behind him. He raised his head to look at Buffy and rolled onto his back, still deep inside of her. He went to pull the tank top over her head, but found that his left hand was bandaged up tightly, preventing him from doing so. He frowned at the offending appendage as she sat up and yanked the clothing up over her head.

Buffy caught his eyes again, then lowered herself down as she began to move her hips, capturing his mouth with her own. Soon, they were both caught up in the slow, ageless rhythm, their tongues entwined in a lover's dance, until they fell silently into orgasm.

Afterward, Spike held Buffy closely to him, listening to the steady beat of her heart and whispered, "I love you, Buffy. No matter what, remember that I love you."

The ride to the gaming complex in Chesterton was made in silence, save for the rhythmic bouncing of Spike's leg. Xander had driven Willow and Faith, and Cordelia had gone separately, leaving Giles to chauffeur the two vampires and Buffy. He had borrowed one of the school vans for the trip, covering most of the windows with black construction paper just in case.

"There don't seem to be any lights on," Willow commented as the group stood together in the parking lot.

"Well, Motel 6 it isn't," Xander replied.

"There are other cars here, though," Buffy pointed out. "Don't know if that's a good thing or not."

"I guess we'd better go inside," Angel said, studying the large, warehouse-like building. "Everyone armed?"

As quietly as a group of eight that included Cordelia could be, they made their way over to the front doors and went inside. The entryway was completely bare save for a free-standing sign that had one light over it. "Welcome players," Buffy read out loud. "Slayer team go right; opposing team go left. Enjoy your stay."

"How nice of them," Faith said sarcastically as she looked down the hallway to the right. "Do you think we'll get those little chocolates on our pillows, too?"

"Only one way to find out," Buffy said, leading the troops down the right hall.

The hall opened up to a room with a single refrigerator and multiple outlets in the walls. There were no windows in the room but four doors, two of which were marked as the men's and ladies' restrooms. The third door led to another hallway with multiple small rooms off of it, which the group deduced to be the old offices. The fourth door opened up to reveal the center of the gaming complex, which was well-lit and huge.

And covered with large, bi-colored squares, like a giant chess board.

"You don't see Death lurking around, do you?" Xander asked as he followed Buffy and Spike out into the main room.

As the commentary went on behind them, the Slayer and the Vampire approached what looked like a computerized, gaming console. Attached to the screen was the expected white envelope, and Buffy gave Spike a look before picking it up and opening it. "Guys, you need to listen here," she raised her voice to quiet the others. When she had their attention, she went on. "Angel and Willow already know what this letter means, but for the rest of you, it contains the basic instructions for the game and how to win."

She made sure everyone was listening, then unfolded the letter. "'Come crawling faster, obey your master,'" she read and looked over at Spike.

"Metallica," Spike replied to the unasked question. "Master of Puppets."

She nodded and continued, "'Obey your master, players, or death will be your consequences. The master controls the action, the winner is up to you. So, choose your king wisely, for your lives are in his hands.'"

"What does it mean?" Willow asked.

"I s-suspect it has something to do with, er, chess," Giles said. He gestured to the large board on the floor. "It said to choose your king and that-that computer thing is in the white king's square."

Xander walked in front of Buffy and looked at the monitor. "It's a computerized chess game," he told the others. He moved the mouse pointer on 'help' and clicked. "Hey, check it out, ladies and germs. 'This is a live action chess game, where the king controls the movement of the other chess 'pieces.' The board is recreated on the screen, allowing the king to see the entire field of play. Eight robotic pawns have been provided for you.'"

"Fascinating," Giles commented.

"'Rules of play: To capture an opposing piece, the challenger for the square makes the first strike. If the challenger defeats the opponent, he moves to that square. If the challenger loses, the opponent may chose to move to the challenger's square or stay in his own. There will be a five-minute break between each challenge to clean up the bodies,'" Xander read.

"Why am I thinking this is not a good thing?" Faith said, looking out over the empty chess board.

"'Each round of play will last four hours with a two-hour break in between,'" the dark-haired teen continued. "'Other game rules: no one is to leave the field of play except for file one or eight until the break and then you can only go to your team's respective rooms; attempting to cross the field of play during the break will result in forfeiture; no one can leave the building once the game starts; food and medical supplies are located in the refrigerators; the game starts precisely at midnight.'"

They all stood silently for a moment, contemplating what Xander read. Cordelia was the one to break the silence. "Does this mean I'm stuck with you guys until whenever the game is finished?"

"Yes, I am afraid so," Giles replied.

"Then I'm getting some things from my car," Cordelia said as she turned to go. "I'm going to need something to do that doesn't require talking to you guys."

"You know, the Bitch Queen has a point," Faith said. "Xand, key me. I'm gonna get my walkman and some tunes from your car."

"Will you get my backpack, too?" Willow asked the brunette Slayer.

"Will do, Red," Faith replied, then left as well.

"I suppose we should pick who will be king," Giles said, removing his glasses to clean them. "I know a bit about chess, but I haven't played since I was a boy."

"I can play," Xander said.

"I know the rules, but I never actually played before," Willow said. "What about you, Angel?"

"I said, I can play," Xander repeated.

"Chess was never my game," Angel replied. He looked over at Spike. "What about you?"

"Hello? Can you hear me talking here?" Xander said.

"Yeah, right," Spike replied to Angel. "It took me ten years to learn to play the piano, and that wasn't boring like chess is."

"You play the piano?" Willow asked, her mind turning. "It was you playing at the house! Angel, it was Spike! You were so good. We thought it was a recording."

Spike shrugged the compliment off, looking instead around the room. He suddenly stiffened and froze, his entire body tense. Angel saw this and quickly walked over to his side. "What is it?"

"I guess that you do not know how to-to play, either, Buffy," Giles said. Buffy arched a brow at him, her back to the two vampires. "I figured as much."

"What about Faith or Cordelia?" Willow suggested.

"She's here," Spike answered Angel, his right hand clenching into a fist, the left still bandaged tightly and hanging uselessly at his side. His blue eyes darted around the empty room. "That bloody bitch is here."

"I doubt either of them know how to play," Buffy replied to Willow's question.

"Ok, people, am I invisible?" Xander said, moving in front of Willow and waving his hands.

"Xander, what are you doing?" Willow asked. "We have a serious problem here." She turned to Giles. "Maybe if we worked together..."

"Are you sure?" Angel said, putting his hand on Spike's shoulder.

Spike looked up at the taller vampire, fear and anger in his eyes. "Yes, I'm bloody well certain, you sod," he replied. His body tensed up further, the adrenaline rushing under his skin as tendrils of her whispers invaded his mind. "No," he ground out, putting his right hand to his forehead, trying to prevent her voice from affecting him.

"I KNOW HOW TO PLAY!" Xander suddenly shouted, causing everyone to jump.

In startled reaction, Spike's demon face came to the foreground and he growled loudly. He reached out and grabbed Buffy's hair, yanking her roughly around to face him. Her yelp of pain was cut off as his mouth descended upon hers viscously, his fangs cutting into her lips as he plunged his tongue between them. He broke the kiss, his yellow eyes flashing, and practically dragged her into the other room by her hair.

"Isn't anyone going to stop them?" Xander finally asked when they heard the door to the hall with the offices slam.

"They're fine," Angel said reassuringly. "Now, did you say that you knew how to play?"

"Yeah," Xander replied, looking over at the doorway the couple had gone through.

"You do?" Willow said. "Since when?"

"Since you hooked me up with a computer," he answered. "I play online."

"What is your, er, standing?" Giles asked, long forgotten terminology coming to mind.

"Master," Xander replied. "At least, in the arenas I play in."

"My word, Xander," Giles said. "That is-is-is astounding."

"And kinda freaky," Willow said. Xander looked hurt, and she quickly added, "I meant that with this game we need a 'master' and you're a-a Master. Why didn't you tell me?"

Xander shrugged. "It's just something I do when everyone else is busy and I want to hide from my parents," he replied. "Nothing big about it."

"Well, Xander, I think it's wonderful," Giles told him. He gestured to the computer console. "I guess you should, er, familiarize yourself with that-that-that machine."

"Will do, big kahuna," Xander replied.

Willow saw Angel stiffen suddenly, then relax again. "What is it?" she asked, concern winning over her nervousness around him.

"It's nothing," Angel replied. She gave him her 'I'm not dropping this until you tell me, buster' look. "I, uh, heard Buffy...er..."

"Oh!" Willow said, her face reddening as she understood what he meant. The blush deepened as her mind brought up the memories of her and Angel and she quickly turned her attention to Xander, who was sitting behind the computer.

Angel closed his eyes briefly and swallowed. His mind had also brought up the memories when he realized why Buffy was crying out. He wanted nothing more than to grab the redhead and cart her off much as Spike did the Slayer and bury himself in her sweetness. "I'm going to go and...," he trailed off with a wane smile and left the main room.

Part Six

Buffy had disappeared into the ladies' restroom with Spike's red button-down shirt in order to wash the blood out of her tank top. The blond vampire stood uncertainly in the doorway leading to the offices, his blue eyes flitting around the room, not focusing on anything in particular. His hands were deep in the pockets of his duster, holding the material close around him as if for protection.

Cordelia came into the room from the hall that led to the outside, took one look at him and sniffed disdainfully before venturing out to the main gaming room. Faith trekked in a moment later, a backpack and a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, walkman in her hand. She was singing along to the music, her voice harsh, yet strangely melodic to Spike's ears.

"I am the city, I am the park, I am the ground and the mother-fucking dog. I am shocked and deceived. I don't want to believe no more. No more. No more," Faith sang. She dropped the duffel bag onto the floor and bent to dig something out of it. "Golgotha tenement, city of souls. Give me your down and your wicked and your dollar whores. Turn on your brother, the children are sold. The people wait for streets of gold, streets of gold. No more. I am the chosen one. I am the chosen one."

She stood and faced him, then tossed a pack of cigarettes at him. With a wink, she went into the main room, her voice fading as she sang. "I am the chosen one. I am the chosen one...."

"Spike," Angel said, coming out of the men's restroom where he had decided to hide in order to collect his raging hormones. He went over to the blond vampire who stood staring down at the pack of cigarettes in his hand. "Hey, are you home in there?"

Spike raised his eyes to his sire, the orbs full of pain and rage. Then, he did something completely uncharacteristic, something that went against the very grain of everything that made him who he was -- but his world was so askew, it didn't matter anymore. With a choked noise that could have been a sob, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the older vampire, pressing his face into Angel's chest as he tried to stop the images in his mind.

Angel was surprised, but he responded immediately by holding Spike close, as a father would his child. "I won't let her get to you, Spike," he said quietly, feeling the younger vampire trying to stifle his crying. "Buffy won't either. We'll protect you."

"I didn't tell her," Spike said. "I don't want her to know. I don't want her to know. I don't want her to know. I don't want her to know..." He repeated the sentence over and over, his voice growing softer and softer.

"Shh, it'll be ok, Spike," Angel comforted. "I won't tell Buffy. But I really think you should. She loves you and can help..."

"No," he replied, pushing away from Angel roughly and wiping his face with the back of his bandaged hand. "I won't drag her into this crap with Dru."

Angel sighed. "Very well," he said. "Why don't you go outside for awhile, let the fresh air help clear your head. I'll come get you before the game starts."

Spike nodded and glanced at the ladies' restroom door, then walked past his sire towards the exit. Once outside, he walked over to Xander's car and sat on the hood, lighting up a cigarette from the pack Faith gave him. Then he stared up into the night sky, the stars obstructed by the heavy, dark clouds that had prevailed all day yesterday and today. The same clouds that had prevented him from killing himself.

Head like a hole
Black as your soul
I'd rather die
Than give you control

One part of him was glad that he failed in that attempt, the part that held Buffy reverently, that cherished each moment with her sunlight. The rest of him, however, cursed the sky and the weather and Drusilla for having some sort of hold over him. He didn't remember too much of what had happened the day before, only that he had gone into the sewers and tried to force Dru from his mind. He supposed that was how he hurt his hand, which he still couldn't feel. He only wished the rest of him couldn't feel.

Bow down before the one you serve
You're going to get what you deserve
Bow down before the one you serve
You're going to get what you deserve

His eyes traveled over the redhead and she raised her eyes as if she sensed him looking at her. She cocked her head as if asking him what was wrong, and he shook his in return, letting her know that he'd tell her later. As she went back to working with Giles, he marveled at the fact that he could easily communicate with her without words. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

Walking up behind Xander, being sure to make noise so he didn't scare the teen, he put his hand on the back of the chair and looked at the screen. "How's it going, Xander?"

"Ok," Xander replied, closing one screen and opening another. "I've been able to piece together what exactly I have to do. It's kind of a cross between regular chess and that scene from Star Wars, when Chewbacca and R2 are playing that whacked-out chess game and C-3PO says: 'I suggest a new strategy, R2. Let the Wookie win.'" He pulled up the starting board and gestured to it. "You guys are going to be the 'royalty' on the board and I control your movements by telling you, well, where to move. The object is to put the other king in checkmate, just like normal chess. The king seems to be the only one who won't get his butt kicked at any time in the game."

"Sounds like fun," Angel said. He glanced behind him to see Buffy enter the room wearing Spike's red shirt buttoned up to the neck. "Let us know when you want to explain more."

"Aye, aye, Deadboy," Xander replied.

Angel shook his head and went over to the blond Slayer. "Where's Spike?" Buffy asked immediately.

"I sent him outside," Angel replied. "How bad are the bites?"

"Bites? Um, well..."

"Buffy-"

Buffy sighed and unbuttoned the top two buttons, showing him her slightly ripped up chest. Long, red slices ran from her collarbones down to the tops of her breasts. A raw patch that looked like a cross between an abrasion and a scrape was on the top curve of her right breast and he could see fang marks around the wound. "Seen enough?" Buffy said sarcastically.

"I just wanted to make sure he didn't hurt you," Angel replied. "He's not entirely in control of himself."

"Why? You didn't get a chance to tell me earlier," she said, re-buttoning the shirt. "Is it something that I did?"

"No," he said. "It was nothing that you did."

"Then what?"

"He just has a few things on his mind," Angel semi-lied. "It's not really my place to tell you. All I can say is to be there for him."

"I will always be there for him," Buffy said.

"Guys, I need everyone over here," Xander announced, breaking into the conversation.

"Why don't you go get Spike," Angel told her. "And make sure you tell him you love him. He really needs to hear it." Buffy gave him a confused look, then turned and left. As he watched her go, he quietly added, "He needs to hear it more than you can know, Buffy."

"First I need to now how many of you have any inkling of how to play chess," Xander began. Angel, Willow, Giles and, surprisingly, Faith all raised their hands. Buffy held Spike's good hand and shrugged while the blond vampire stared off into space. Cordelia stood with her arms crossed, a peeved look on her face. "Alright, I'm going to do a quick rundown of the board, so when I give you directions, you can follow them."

He turned and gestured to the giant board. "The rows going across the board are called ranks. Each square is labeled 'a' through 'h' starting in the bottom, left corner. The rows going up and down the board are called files. Each square is given a number, one through eight, starting again with the bottom, left corner. So this square," he said, walking over and standing in said bottom, left corner square. "Is 'a1.'" He took a step to his right. "This is 'b1,' this is 'c1' and so on."

He walked back over to the group and continued. "Each side has eight pawns and eight 'royalty.' There are two rooks, or castles; two knights; two bishops; a queen; and a king. Now, I've decided that I want Buffy as the white queen, since that is the most powerful piece on the board. Deadboy, you and junior are to be the rooks, with you on a1. Willow, you and Cordy are the knights. I'm putting you between Angel and Giles, who is the bishop. Faith, you're the other bishop, next to me."

"Do we get to wear those pointy hats?" Faith asked with a grin.

Xander ran a hand through his recently shorn hair. "No hats. But, you do get weapons. I have no clue who's on the other side, but my guess is they aren't going to be pretty. Probably vampires, demons and other things that like to carve humans up and use their bones as toothpicks."

"Giles and I have cast a protection spell over everyone," Willow said, then glanced at Angel. "Well, not everyone, because it doesn't work on vampires. Sorry."

"The spell won't, er, protect you from danger," Giles said. "But it will offer a-a bit of extra help against whatever you are fighting, especially magick users."

"Let's see, what else? Oh, if you capture a pawn, I guess the piece just disappears. No fighting required. The only other thing I can think of is that you can move off the board only when you are in file one. Once moved somewhere else on the board, you have to stay there until the break," Xander said. "Are there any questions?"

"Yeah, why is my life in your hands?" Cordelia said. "Your knowing what you are doing is like saying that Drusilla wasn't a psycho."

Spike's head shot around to stare at the brunette, his hand squeezing Buffy's tightly. "Ow, Spike," Buffy said, grabbing his arm. "You're hurting my hand."

"Bloody hell," Spike cursed, loosening his grip. He went to run his other hand through his hair, but when he saw the white bandage he growled, dropped Buffy's hand and proceeded to rip the material off.

"Spike," Angel said sharply, his tone making everyone else look at him in surprise. "Stop it."

"But-"

"Now," Angel stated, as he crossed to the blond in two strides. He grabbed Spike's left arm above the wrist and held it tightly. Spike's eyes flashed in defiance, then lowered submissively when a warning growl came from deep within Angel's chest. He dropped his childe's arm and turned to see the others staring at him with confusion or trepidation. "Sorry. Go on, Xander."

"Um, yeah," Xander said. "There's nothing really more to say, other than where's the food, because I'm hungry."

The teen's joke broke the small bit of tension and everyone but Willow and Spike left the main room to raid the refrigerator. Spike stayed at Angel's side, staring at the bandage on his hand as the redhead looked questioning at the older vampire. "Angel, what's going on?" she asked, letting her concern override her feelings of unease.

Angel took her arm and led her off to the side, away from the blond vampire who did not even notice that they'd gone. "It's Drusilla," he answered, unable to lie to her. "She's messing with his mind."

"That's not good," Willow said, secretly pleased that he still held her arm. "Not good at all."

"No, it's not," he replied. "You may hear or see me do a few things that are...very vampire-like, for lack of better term. I'm still me, though, so don't be afraid."

"I won't," she said. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unless you know some spell that can block Drusilla from his mind, no," Angel said. He glanced back at Spike, who had started to pace back and forth and was chewing on his right thumbnail. "But can you sort of warn the others without alerting them to the problem. Spike doesn't want Buffy to know, for some dumb reason."

"Ok," Willow replied. She gave him a small smile. "Look. We're talking. With words and not uncomfortable silences."

Angel smiled back at her. "Looks that way," he replied. "I like it."

"Me, too," she answered shyly. "Um, I'm gonna go and eat something. Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine," he said.

"'K," Willow said, then turned and went into the other room.

Angel sighed again and went over to Spike. The younger vampire stopped and looked up at him. "What?"

"You know what," Angel said, taking the bandaged hand and looking at it.

"Shove off," Spike told him. "And take that stupid bandage with you."

"Can you even feel your hand?"

"No."

"That's because you did quite a number on it," Angel told him as he fixed the bandage. "Now, do you need anything before this game starts?"

"A hard fuck and a bullet to the brain would be good," Spike replied. "Not necessarily in that order."

"Well, I'm not going to give you either, so you're SOL," the dark-haired vampire responded.

"You're no bloody help," Spike grumbled, digging out another cigarette with his good hand. He jostled one out of the pack and pulled it into his mouth. "What's up with you and the little witch?"

"None of your business," Angel replied as he dropped Spike's hand.

"That bad, eh mate?"

"Spike, shut up."

Spike chuckled for the first time in days.

Part Seven

End of passion play, crumbling away
I'm your source of self-destruction
Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear
Leading on your deaths construction

Spike sensed her before he saw her. He was pacing in his assigned square, h1, ignoring the part scathing, part scared looks Cordelia was giving him from the next square over, when her familiar presence hit him like a sledgehammer. He stopped pacing and spun around to face the other side of the board, where the opposing team was coming out of their own back rooms, his entire body coiled with tension, as if preparing for a fight.

He hadn't been in a good fight in awhile, and he liked violence. It was fun to spar with Buffy, but he missed being able to rip someone's arm off with his bare hands for no reason. The last big fight he'd gotten into had been in Brazil, a nice barroom brawl to christen his leaving the country to return to Sunnyhell. There had been a couple of martial artists of some sort in that fight, and he learned a few cool new moves. He loved the martial arts, especially the movies, like the Hong Kong action flicks. In fact, he wouldn't mind going to Hong Kong some day. He'd never been to the Asian world. Most of his travels revolved around Europe, mostly England, and then in America with Drusilla. Drusilla.

"You managed not to think of her for a whole minute, so things can't be that bad," Spike said to himself, watching the other team.

"What's not that bad?"

Taste me you will see
More is all you need
You're dedicated to
How I'm killing you

Spike whirled around and struck without thinking. His still-bandaged left hand connected with the Slayer's face, sending more pain to him than it did to her. "Bloody hell, that hurt," he growled, holding his hand protectively against him. He started to curse, fluently and in complete disregard for who was listening. Then, as Buffy stood there watching him with confusion, he started to pace again, saying the same sentence over and over. "You stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid..."

"Geez, Buffy, what is it with you and the psycho boyfriends?" Cordelia asked.

Buffy ignored her and stepped into Spike's path. When he saw her, he started again, bring his fist back to hit her until he realized who it was, or more specifically, who it was not. Instead of hitting her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, mumbling in her hair that same sentence. "...Bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you stupid bloody bitch, I hate you..."

Master of Puppets I'm pulling your strings
Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams
Blinded by me, you can't see a thing
Just call my name, `cause I'll hear you scream

Buffy didn't know what to do or what to make of his words, so she wrapped her arms around his waist under his duster and just held him.

Willow and Angel had been sitting next to each other in their respective squares, talking more comfortably with each other than they ever had before when Angel's head suddenly shot up and he peered across the room.

"What is it?" Willow asked, trying to see what he did.

"Drusilla," Angel replied, leaning back slightly to see around Xander and the computer console. Spike was staring across the board, as well.

"Here? She's here?" Willow said. "This is not good. This is so very not good. Not good in the very bad sense of the words not good."

"Very true," he replied. The other team, that was coming out of their own back rooms, was definitely made up of non-humans, and not just vampires. The black king, who had come out first and was now seated at the other computer console, looked like a troll or perhaps a gnome. It was hard to tell under the heavy, black robe he wore.

Angel heard Spike growl and turned to see him start pacing, his mouth moving as if he were saying something, but Angel could not hear it. He saw Buffy step into his path, then the blond vampire wrap his arms around the Slayer and hold her.

"There she is," Willow said.

Master, Master, Where's the dreams that I've been after?
Master, Master, You promised only lies
Laughter, Laughter, All I hear and see is laughter
Laughter, Laughter, laughing at my cries

Spike knew the second she entered the room, because he felt himself almost being physically pulled towards her, as if he were still attached to the wires of his dreams. Her voice echoed in his head, calling to him, and he held Buffy tighter in response, his voice getting louder as he tried to block Drusilla out. "...Hate You Stupid Bloody Bitch, I Hate You Stupid Bloody Bitch, I Hate You Stupid Bloody Bitch, I Hate You Stupid Bloody..."

Buffy was scared. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what was wrong. She didn't know how to make things better. She felt helpless. She was scared.

"Shit," Angel swore, causing Willow to look at him oddly.

"What's wrong?" Willow asked.

"Remember what I told you about how I might act?" Angel said, rising to his feet.

"....YOU STUPID BLOODY BITCH, I HATE YOU STUPID BLOODY BITCH..."

"Oh goddess," Willow said, watching as Angel quickly crossed the back of the board, behind his confused somewhat-friends. She stood as well, following behind him until she was standing with Giles near Faith and Xander.

Angel went up behind Spike and put his hands on both shoulders, physically yanking the younger vampire around. Spike let go of Buffy as he was turned, his fists flying out, his face changing into that of his demon. Angel blocked them both easily, then took hold of his childe's upper arms and pulled him within inches of his face. "Spike," Angel ground out, his gaze meeting wild yellow eyes. "Look at me."

Spike tried to get away, snarling at his sire and Angel shook him harshly. Then, he started walking forward, pushing the blond vampire back with each step until Spike was against the wall of the main room. Angel closed his eyes a moment as Spike continued to snarl, and when he reopened them, his fierce, commanding yellow eyes met his childe's.

Hell is worth all that, natural habitat
Just a rhyme without a reason
Never-ending maze, drift on numbered days
Now your life is out of season

He let go of Spike's arms and grabbed him with one hand by the throat, raising him slightly off the floor. A low, powerful growl rolled across the floor to where the other five were standing, watching the two vampires. They each stiffened visibly with the sound, even Willow, who was prepared because of what Angel had told her.

Come crawling faster
Obey your Master
Your life burns faster
Obey your Master

Spike suddenly stopped struggling, as if the strings controlling him had been cut. He closed his eyes tightly against the tears that started to fall, unheeded, down his cheeks. When he opened them again, his human mask was back in place and he stared at Angel unseeingly, his blue eyes reflecting complete fear.

Master of Puppets I'm pulling your strings
Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams
Blinded by me, you can't see a thing
Just call my name, `cause I'll hear you scream

Angel let his own human mask return and he lowered Spike to his feet. He let go of the younger vampire's throat and put his hands on both shoulders. "Spike, look at me," Angel commanded in a quiet, but firm tone. When Spike didn't, he enunciated each clipped word. "Look. At. Me."

Finally, recognition flitted across Spike's face as he looked Angel in the eyes. "Cor, Angelus, make her stop," he whispered, his voice closing as he became choked up. "Make her stop."

"Buffy," Angel raised his voice slightly so the blond Slayer would hear him. Spike's eyes were still locked with Angel's as she hurried over to them, her face expressing her worry and fear over what was happening to her love. "Spike, Buffy's here."

"Hey," Buffy said quietly, taking Spike's good hand in hers. "Are you ok?"

Spike dropped his eyes to Buffy as a feeling of calm stole over him from her action. He nodded slightly to answer her question, squeezing her hand.

A loud bell sounded, startling everyone, and a voice came over the loud speaker. "Players. It is now midnight. Welcome to the Endgame. The bell you just heard will signal the end and beginning of each round. White moves first. May the best team win."

Angel looked over his shoulder and met Willow's gaze, Buffy and Spike continued to look at each other, and the others exchanged nervous glances. "Well, gang," Xander said. "As Caine once said in Mortal Kombat: 'Let the games begin.'"

Continued