Hello again. Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter and I hope that you enjoy it. My grateful thanks go to Just_Sue, my beta, and to MoonKyst and Pfeifferpack for their wise corrections and suggestions. I'm a bad person for not replying to every comment that I'm left these days, but please believe me when I say that I am hugging every one of you in my mind.


***

Spike woke up face down to find the ground wriggling beneath him. The annoying hiss in his ear began to translate into words.

“Get off, Spike, you’re squashing me!”

Oh. No wonder he felt so comfortable. Except he still had his fangs embedded in her succulent flesh and there was no way this scenario could end well.

Carefully extracting them, horrified that he might have accidentally torn her throat out, Spike rolled to one side before reaching to check the damage he’d done.

Buffy slapped his hand away. “You bit me!”

Satisfied that she wasn’t badly hurt, Spike let out a whoosh of relief and replied in a tone that matched hers. “I had no choice.”

“Of course you did, or are you incapable of lying next to me without giving in to your sneaky, bitey perversions? To think I was beginning to trust you.”

Now that rankled. “Tell me, Buffy, just what do you remember last... and, by the way, you don’t know a damn thing about my perversions.”

“I don’t remember anything. I was asleep, dummy.”

“Well, then, can you explain how we got... here?” Spike waved his arm expansively over their new surroundings.

Breaking off glaring for a second, Buffy looked around and her eyes widened in astonishment. Spike took advantage of her distraction and moved quickly to hold her hands.

“You were in a trance, pet. I woke up an’ you were walking into a portal, made just for you. It was pushing me out and I couldn’t have that. You offered me your neck and I took some blood. I reckon it joined us just enough to let me go with you... and I won’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not; wouldn’t have been any fun to be left behind. Look,” he gestured to the bundled up cloaks and bag of provisions that lay nearby. “Snidda and Andii even managed to throw these after us before it closed.” The twin fires of steel and cool, black ebbon, glinted from the folds of one of the cloaks.

Buffy, looked down, biting her lip; her fingers felt cold. When she looked up again she tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. “I suppose it would be pointless to deny that I’m part of your stupid prophecy now.” Tears began to well up. “Am I even real?”

“Hush.” Spike pulled her close to his chest. “You are completely and utterly Buffy, I’d know if you weren’t. This world would be very boring without you in it, love, so whatever happens, I’ll be around to keep you safe.” Buffy snorted a little at that. “Or you can keep me safe, I really don’t mind.”

That earned him a little giggle. Good.

It wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but as he stroked and petted her dejected frame, it was enough.

They were in a circular cave, the domed roof above, smooth and unmarked. On the floor lay dozens of little rough clay saucers containing oil and in each one a tiny flame danced, providing subtle lighting. At the cave’s centre rested a large spherical stone. Taller than Spike, it was half buried under a covering of dried mountain flowers. At its base there were much more ornate dishes, delicately carved from chunks of semi-precious stone; stripy agates, red jasper, translucent rose quartz and gold flecked lapis lazuli. Each contained nuts or seeds, a piece of unleavened bread, or fat ripe brambleberries.

Pulling herself together, Buffy went over to investigate.

“Oooh, snacks.”

Scooping up a dish of shelled nuts, Buffy tentatively tried one. “Delicious.”

Spike looked uneasy. “Um, Buffy, this is a shrine of some sort. You really shouldn’t be eating the offerings.”

“Nonsense, if I’m the Chosen One then they must be for me, right? Here, have a nut.”

As if in response to her actions they heard a pattering noise. Before they knew it, the cave began filling with pale creatures, each one armed to the teeth … very sharp teeth. About three feet in height, they had large heads, narrow tufted ears and spindly limbs, all covered with thick white fur. Their expressive eyes were enormous, made even wider by fear and outrage. In their small, clawed fingers, polished stone daggers caught the light, making them beautiful and deadly. They surged as one towards the couple.

“Don’t hurt them,” shouted Buffy as she batted one away, its blade almost shredding her sleeve.

Spike kicked one of his attackers across the cave into some of its friends, arms flailing in flight. “What do you mean don’t hurt the... ouch, you little bastard.” Backhanding his new assailant, Spike licked the injury on his wrist; another fraction and he would have been in trouble.

“I mean, we’re the invaders here, they’re only protecting their holy cave or whatever.”

“You’re bothered about that now!” Spike yelled, trying to dislodge another assailant from his back.

“But they look so cute.”

“I can’t believe this, would you rather be a stone orkupine?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t, whatever one of those is. Hey, that hurt!” Her palm now covered in her own blood, Buffy frowned at the cave dweller who had managed to strike her. It lay in a heap where she’d shoved it away … and were those tears? As Buffy began to rethink her policy of non-fatal violence the crowd parted to allow a single figure to the front. A full six inches taller than the others, he glowered up at her. Obviously their leader, his luxuriant sable tipped fur was threaded with tiny gems, making him sparkle like a fluffy Christmas tree. Clearly angry, he spoke rapidly in a high chittering language that made no sense at all, then raised his dagger with unmistakable intent.

“Look,” said Buffy, beginning to get cross herself, “we’re really sorry to have invaded your cave, and believe me I’d like nothing better than to be anywhere else, preferably somewhere warm and with actual sky above my head, so be a good furry thing and let us pass." Sensing the large boulder at her back she placed her bloodied hand on it. “We don’t want your stupid rock, okay?”

A deafening crack sounded behind her and she leapt forward just in time with an apologetic “oops,” taking the startled leader down with her.

A loud grinding roll of stone on stone made the ground tremor beneath them. Extricating herself from her rather snuggly enemy, and keeping a firm grip on his wrist, Buffy waved a warning finger at him, daring him to make a move, but he just stared beyond her, transfixed. She turned her head. Still gently rocking were two perfect bowl shaped halves where the single boulder had rested.

Nobody moved, even Spike stood openmouthed staring at Buffy. “It wasn’t me,” she squeaked.

Silence.

“Okay, since you’re all being judgmental and with the non-moving thing, I’ll just take a peek.” Spike darted forward to intercept her but she was too quick. Reaching the lip of the first stone at the same time, they both peered inside.

“Wow!”

Thousands of deep purple amethyst crystals glittered up at them, some tiny and densely packed, others thick and wide, jutting out at random angles. White calcite punctured the vivid internal light of the geode and the effect was dazzling. Heart in mouth, Buffy ran to the other piece. There, nestled inside, as if on display in a jewelled case, was Saya’s axe. She gave a little jump and leaned over the edge, almost falling in. A quick tug and it came free.

“Yesss.”

As Buffy raised the beautiful, shiny, double-headed axe aloft to admire it, the entire room was blanketed with white fur as their former attackers prostrated themselves. An astonished Spike looked undecided as to whether to join them. Buffy grinned. Regaining his composure, Spike raised one eyebrow. “There’s going to be no living with you now, is there?”

“Nope.”

Shimmying forward on his belly, arms outstretched, the brave little leader offered Buffy his knife, trilling in a tone that sounded a lot like ‘sorry’. When she took it he shuffled up to his knees and tilted his head back, offering his throat. When she realised what he wanted her to do she threw both the axe and knife to Spike and gently tugged him upright. Then she shook his hand in what she hoped was a queenly manner. Finally realising that he’d been spared he gave her a fangy smile, eyes moist and adoring. His followers, sensing the change in atmosphere, peeped out through their shaggy fringes.

“I think you have some new admirers.”

***

Buffy was in heaven. Seated on a rather low but fabulously carved chair, its unyielding surface padded with animal furs, she had finally relented and let the creatures pamper her. The Ettii, who according to Spike were a storybook myth and not real, were plying her with food and trinkets and goblets of crisp berrywine. Spike, who was being similarly treated, raised a delicacy into the air.

“Care for a baby mouse stewed in honey?”

“If you eat that I’m never kissing those lips again.”

Spike grinned devilishly and tilted his head back to swallow it whole, sucking up its long tail with relish.

“Never is a long time, pet.”

“Oh, gross, Spike.”

Visiting the Watcher hair salon ‘Curl Up and Dye’ was nothing to having a clever-fingered female Ettii carefully comb your hair before twisting and threading the ends with dainty beads. Buffy was no expert but they looked like sapphires, rubies and emeralds. Several full strings of the gems also swathed her neck. She was feeling full with all the little morsels of food she’d accepted and the cavern they’d been taken into, some kind of great hall, was made warm and cosy by hot springs.

The leader, or rather, the King of the Ettii, sat next to her. Having fully recovered he was now beaming from ear to ear. Spike, his legs too long for a royal chair, reclined on a pile of rugs a few feet away like an indolent pasha. Having somehow lost his shirt, he was allowing several eager females to slide gold bangles up his arms. Ever the flirt, he gave each of them a lazy smile which sent them fluttering to find more.

As Buffy watched these now gentle creatures casting shy looks her way, she felt a great sense of responsibility for their wellbeing. Not because they’d known about the axe and treated its resting place with such reverence, but because even thinking about the harm a single Terr-khan could do to their community filled her with dread. Even if they remained hidden there were countless other kind souls in this world that didn’t deserve to be slaughtered at the whim of Nesst and his deranged little family.

Without warning, the events of the past twenty-four hours flashed through her brain; the short, brutal fight with the lone Terr-Khan, the terrible spectacle of people twisting and jerking as they strangled to death in the marketplace, Ahnja's sightless eyes and Andii's grief, the exhausting trek through the mountainside. Determined not to let those memories overwhelm her, she concentrated instead on the peaceful comings and goings of their hosts, the blessings of shelter and a full belly, knowing it for what it was, a respite from the trials ahead.

Looking down at the axe propped against her chair, its twin blades fanning out on either side like bright slices of a crescent moon, its long haft, black as midnight in a strange land, she wondered why this single weapon was so important. It certainly looked deadly, but how could it destroy a whole army?

Well, if she had to don war paint and pretend to be the long gone Saya, then so be it. Now Buffy knew she had an important part to play and just prayed that she wouldn’t make a huge mess of it.

Eventually, all her thoughts drifted away and she fell into a deep slumber.

In a silent, graceful move, Spike left his furs and padded to where she lay, curled awkwardly on the throne. Mindful not to wake her, Spike gathered up his prize and returned to the comfier bed. Settling down behind her, he traced the faint scar on her neck with his lips, before he too succumbed to sleep.

***

Although daylight never reached this place, Spike knew that it was early morning. Buffy, waking at the same time, blinked owlishly.

“Hi,” she said, softly.

“Good morning.”

With a wicked little grin, Buffy nuzzled even closer, her pointed little tongue running a hot line up his throat till it met the fine stubble under his chin. In an unusually bold move she slipped her hand down to rub his very interested manhood, imprisoned beneath snug black leather. With a pained chuckle, Spike grabbed her hand just as it found buttons to undo.

“Love, not that I care, but I’m thinking that you’re not quite ready for an audience for what you have in mind.”

Scowling to have her seduction thwarted, Buffy looked around and met the eyes of a dozen fascinated Ettii. Blushing furiously, she buried her head in his chest.

“Damn.”

Spike tugged her back up, fingers threading through beaded locks to keep her in place, his mouth fastened on hers before she could protest. Firm sensual lips captured hers, tongue insolent, mimicking a much larger organ. It was a kiss of dark promise, igniting a bright flash of lust between her thighs.

He broke off, laughing wickedly. “Now we’re even.”

“I’ll get you back for that!”

“I look forward to it.”

After visits to the bathroom - in reality a very deep hole in the ground and some damp moss - they were led to two separate bathing pools fed by the hot springs. Buffy couldn’t believe how much dirt and dust she’d managed to accumulate on her skin and hair as she scrubbed and rinsed. When her beads presented a problem, two of her ever present attendants came to the rescue. Deftly removing each gem from her hair, they dropped them into a little animal skin bag for her to keep. Redressing in her one and only outfit, fervently wishing it was cleaner, she rejoined Spike for a breakfast of porridge sprinkled with nuts and honey, washed down with herb tea. Refreshed and eager to return to Lossangel, they gathered their belongings and thanked their hosts with all sincerity.

The next two hours were spent searching every shadow, every crevice and blemish in Saya’s cave, looking for the portal that would take them back to the city.

Nothing.

“I don’t understand,” muttered Spike, I’ve never heard of a one-way door.”

Buffy, who had even attempted to draw an outline of a woman on the wall in the hope that she could return the same way that she'd arrived, sighed in exasperation, accidentally smearing white vegetable matter across her forehead. The paint, combined with traces of her own blood where she'd cut her palm, hoping to re-create her trick with the geode, made her look like an enchanting savage.

At least, Spike thought so... except he doubted that real savages would pout so much.

“We should have known it would be too easy to just walk through a wall and go ‘poof’ back to the others.”

The Ettii King and a few of his favourite wives, who’d been watching intently from the sidelines, conferred before approaching the pair. With firm tugs and much pointing they coaxed them back into the main hall. One of the females padded off down a tunnel to return a few minutes later with a youthful male in tow. Spike couldn’t be sure but it looked like his attacker from the night before, the one who’d nearly slit his wrist open with a stone knife.

The King proudly presented the now harmless looking Ettii to them, the arm around the boy’s slender shoulders made his strange language clear. “Son.”

After accepting a beautiful new dagger, a gruff manly hug from his father, and squirming under the embrace of half a dozen motherly females, the young princeling returned to stand before Spike and Buffy. Seeing Buffy’s face clearly in the torchlight his composure broke and he swallowed a giggle.

Buffy turned to Spike. “What?”

“It’s nothing pet, but you might want to wash your face before we set off.”

The journey out of the mountain wasn’t nearly as long as they’d feared and the passages, though narrow, were high enough to accommodate a human and an Aurelian in comfort, and their little guide knew exactly where he was going. Eventually, sharp gusts of clean air heralded the outside world and the path up ahead ended in a bright circle. Daylight.

Buffy raced towards it. Clinging to the exit, eyes watering, she was blinded by sunshine and white. Brilliant, endless white.