The Game [Spike/Buffy] WIP

[xaphania]

Title: The Game
Pairing: Spike/Buffy
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Humour/Adventure
Summary: Two competitors. Two prizes. One winner. When Spike and Buffy are transported to an alternate dimension and forced to compete against each other in a race of logic, wit and strength, who will succeed? As the finish line draws closer, will they find themselves getting closer, too? Set between seasons four and five.
Notes: This is set sometime in the summer between seasons four and five. Spike hasn't yet had his little revelation about Buffy, and she's still with Riley. But don't worry, Riley won't be making an appearance any time soon. This one is a little different to my previous fics... but I hope you like it. Many thanks to PaganBaby for beta reading!



Chapter One

“Slayer?”

“Spike?”

“What did you do?” Spike’s tone was hard, scornful.

“What did I do?” Buffy crossed her arms across her chest and glared.

“Shoulda known it was you when I woke up,” Spike said, “something like this. Reeks of you and your soldier boy. S’not enough that he and his band of merry men stuck that chip in my brain, now you have to go and dump me in the middle of nowhere?”

“Spike, what are you talking about? I haven’t done anything, and neither has Riley.” Buffy paused, and looked around. She and Spike were standing in the middle of a small field, lined on all sides by a snarl of thorned bushes and trees with pointy branches. “If anything, I should be asking you what’s going on.”

“I don’t have a bloody clue, Slayer!” Spike started to pace, leather coat flapping behind him. “Went to sleep in my crypt, woke up here. And that’s all I know, swear it.”

Buffy frowned. Spike wasn’t a very good liar, she’d heard him bluffing on more than one occasion and it was always easy to tell when he wasn’t telling the truth. Right now, it sounded like he was.

“Well, where are we?” She looked around again, eyes travelling the length and breadth of the field, looking for something – anything – to clue her in on their whereabouts.

“Another dimension, I’d wager,” Spike said, and nodded towards the sky. “Sun’s up, and I’m not on fire. Good an indication as any.”

“Great,” Buffy sighed, and sat down on the grass, which was far too green to be natural. “So what do we do?”

Spike eased himself onto the ground next to her, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his forearms on the tops of his legs. “Well don’t look at me!”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Of all the people to get trapped in another dimension with, it had to be you.”

“Yeah, well don’t think I’m any happier about it than you are.” Spike reached into his pockets and cursed when he found nothing but an empty pack of cigarettes.

“Those things will kill you anyway.”

“I’m not even going to bother to answer that one, Slayer.”

“You know, whoever it is that’s put us here has provided lots of nice, pointy bits of tree,” Buffy said. “But not one weapon. How about that.”

Spike slipped into game face and stuck his tongue out. “Don’t need a weapon.”

“Cute,” Buffy said. “But I thought weapons made you feel all manly?”

“So sweet of you to remember all the little things I’ve said,” Spike smirked. “’Course, I am a pretty interesting bloke, so s’only natural.”

“The only interesting thing about you, Spike, is the pile of dust that’ll be left after I’m done staking you.”

“Ooh,” Spike mocked. “Sassy. All words and no action though, eh, Slayer?”

“I hate you.”

“Feeling’s more than mutual, pet.”

“Silence!”

Both Buffy and Spike jumped, and looked around to see where the voice had come from. In the corner of the field, the tangle of trees and thorns parted, and two hooded and cloaked figures walked slowly towards them.

“Did the trees just move?” Spike asked.

“We said be quiet! You will obey us, evil minion of the devil!”

Spike snorted, but said nothing more, and looked towards the two men expectantly. “Well? Where are we?”

“All in good time,” the shortest figure spoke, and then indicated his companion. “This is Gavriel, and I am Natan. We are masters of this realm.”

Buffy was getting impatient. “That’s very nice, but it doesn’t explain why you’ve got us trapped here.”

She took a step towards Gavriel and Natan, fists clenched and intending to throw a punch or two. As she neared the men, the air around her became thicker, like tar, until she met a complete resistance when standing in front of them.

“You cannot do us harm,” Natan said, his voice commanding. He waved a hand and a stone table with four chairs appeared. “Please, take a seat.”

Buffy and Spike sat down, shooting wary glances at each other and at the two men. Neither had any idea of what was going on, but it seemed like their hosts were about to make with the big reveal, so for now, they’d listen.

“Gettin’ bored now,” Spike said, and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Got that explanation for us, chaps?”

“Indeed,” Gavriel nodded. Buffy peered into the folds of his hood, but he was either wearing a mask or had no face. She shuddered, and hoped it was the former.

Natan waved his hand once more, and a patch of air above the table rippled and swelled, distorting into the shape of a window. Through the window, Buffy could see into a dark, dank room where two figures were huddled together against a wall. “You recognise these people?”

“Oh god, Xander and Willow!” Buffy stood up, and tried to seize one of the men – Natan, Gavriel, she didn’t know – by the neck. But she was met once more by the strange resistance of the air, and she sat down, frustrated.

“Mmm, yes, your friends.” Gavriel’s voice was bored, disinterested.

“What have you done to them?”

“Oh, they’re just sleeping. And now: the interesting bit! You must undertake a quest… a game, of sorts, in order to rescue your friends.”

“They’re not my friends,” Spike muttered. “In fact, I hate the lot of ‘em. So I can leave now, yeah?”

“Of course not,” Gavriel laughed. “For what is a game without a little competition? You, my friend, will race against the Slayer in the hopes of beating her to the finish line.”

“Why would I want to do that? Did you not just hear me? I hate the bleedin’ Scoobies.”

“Which is why your reward will be different,” Natan put in. “Something that you desire…”

Spike sat up, and started to look a little more interested. “What would that be, then?”

“If you win, we will remove the behavioural modification chip that is implanted in your brain.”

“What?” Buffy shouted. “You can’t do that!”

“We can, and will,” Natan’s voice was smug. Buffy wanted to hit him. “But only if he crosses the finish line first. If you win, then his chip will remain where it is.”

“And if he wins, what happens to Xander and Willow?” Buffy felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. She wanted nothing more than to be back home, snug and warm in bed with her boyfriend. No, scratch that. She wanted nothing more than to pummel these two idiots and then be back in her nice, comfy bed.

“Should you lose, they too will remain where they are.”

Buffy stared. “So it’s Spike’s chip or my friends?”

“Correct.”

“That’s stupid!” Buffy glanced at Spike. His face was blank except for a tiny crinkle at the corner of his mouth, where it was lifted slightly in the beginnings of a smirk. She had no doubt that he would do anything to get rid of his chip, even if it meant that Xander and Willow had to die.

“Those are the rules,” Natan said. “Now, do you wish to partake in this challenge?”

“What happens if we say no?” Buffy asked.

“Then you will all die.”

“Don’t know about you, Slayer,” Spike said. “But if that’s the only alternative and they’re offerin’ to take out my chip, I’m in.”

“Spike.” Buffy turned to look at the vampire, and gripped his arm, her eyes wide. “Please.”

They both knew what she was asking him. Spike shrugged her hand off, and shook his head. “No can do. I’m in this for myself.”

Buffy turned back to look at Natan and Gavriel, her mouth set in a thin line.

“Explain exactly how this quest thing works, then.” If Spike wasn’t going to co-operate, then she would have to do what she did best.

Win.

-TBC-

[xaphania]

Chapter Two

As soon as Gavriel and Natan had declared the game begun, the field and everything in it had dissolved away, leaving Buffy standing in a long, stone corridor.

“Spike?” she said, tentatively. There was no answer, and her Slayer senses were telling her that she was alone. Her mind was racing with the list of rules that the two gamemasters had kindly – she rolled her eyes – provided them with.

First one to find the finish line and cross it would win. No food is provided, everything must be foraged. Nothing is what it seems except for the times when it’s exactly that. No killing your opponent. And absolutely, positively, definitely no working together. Buffy was pretty sure that they wouldn’t have to worry about that one being broken.

Gavriel and Natan had also given both of them a dial on a long, silver chain. There were two hands on the dial: one in red, and the other blue, representing herself and Spike. The hands would move depending on their progress in the game.

Both hands were currently pointing towards the twelve o’ clock position, and Buffy wondered if Spike had thrown himself into the challenge or if he was taking stock like she was.

Buffy shook her head, and moved towards the wooden door at the end of the corridor. She took a deep breath, and pushed it open.

Here we go.

***

When the field dissolved around him, taking the Slayer and the two pompous wankers with it, Spike was feeling pretty cheerful.

Here he was, in an alternate dimension where he could stand in the sun without being burned, play a silly game and get the chip out of his head. He was happy as Larry, and absolutely convinced he’d be able to beat the Slayer.

She might have brawn, but she’d never been one for the brains. ‘Least, that’s the impression he’d always had of her. Whereas he – well, William had been a pathetic ponce – but he’d had a university education and now over a hundred years of life experience. Spike knew he could handle whatever Gavin and Nerdo threw his way and beat the Slayer to the prize.

And what a prize! Getting the chip removed had been his obsession from the moment he’d discovered its existence, and now all he had to do was race Buffy to the finish line? Easy!

He checked the dial on the chain around his neck, and grinned when he saw that Buffy’s blue hand hadn’t moved an inch. Not that he could afford to dilly-dally for too long, of course.

Spike looked around, bemused when he saw that he was in a dark stone corridor, flickering sconces on the walls and a heavy wooden door at one end. Seemed like the two gamemasters had been taking their inspiration from Dungeons and Dragons, circa 1983.

Spike sauntered along the corridor, slipping into his vampire face along the way to help him see better in the half-light. He pushed open the door, and when he saw what was waiting for him, he smirked.

***

Buffy was starting to wonder if Gavriel and Natan had been lying all along, and this wasn’t a quest, it was some sort of sick prank. She had walked through the door, only to find herself in another long corridor, with another door at the very end.

She’d gone through the second door, and had been faced with the same thing all over again: another long corridor, another wooden door, almost identical to the previous. There were two very small differences: this new corridor was ever-so-slightly darker, and the new door was much smaller.

Now she stood in front of the newest door, gazing at it.

“Please don’t lead to another creepy hallway,” she muttered as she lifted the latch and turned the handle. “Damn it!”

Once again: an identical passageway, slightly darker, and with a considerably smaller door at the end. Buffy groaned. “Is this a test in patience? 'Cos I gotta tell ya, mine’s wearing thin right about now!”

Buffy wasn’t tall, not by a long shot, but she had to bend almost double to fit through. She felt like crying when she saw what lay ahead. “I feel like Alice in Wonderland. I just hope this one doesn’t lead to a sea of my own tears.”

It didn’t, but there was yet another hallway, and another door, this one so small that she had to wriggle ungraciously through it on her stomach. She stood up, and broke into a wide smile of relief when she found herself not in yet another passageway, but a dimly lit room.

There was a lone torch in a sconce on the wall next to her head, and in the flickering light, she could make out two tall, shadowy figures standing next to each other against the back wall. “Hello?”

“Welcome.” The voice was low and gravelly, and sent a shiver down Buffy’s spine.

“You are challenged with the task of making a decision,” said the other, as both figures took one step to the right, revealing that they had been standing in front of identical doors.

“Not more doors!”

“You must decide through which of these doors you will pass,” the first spoke again. “One will lead you on your way; the other will take you back to the beginning of the game. But the passage back will be more difficult second time around, and yet more dangerous and challenging on your third.”

“When questioned, one of us will answer only lies.”

“And when questioned, one of us will tell only truths.”

“You may ask one question, and one question alone. Make sure it is a wise one.”

Buffy stared at the two men, shoulders slumping slightly as she closed her eyes. Her mind was already beginning to spin, and she hadn’t even started to think about what question she would ask.

She pouted. “Great. Brain stuff. I was never good at that.”

***

The man had pounced on him almost as soon as he’d walked through the door. Spike had ducked, whirling out of the way, worried that his opponent was human and would set the chip off if he retaliated.

When the man’s face began to morph and shift into that of an animal – a dog or a wolf, Spike wasn’t sure – Spike grinned around his fangs and threw himself into the fight, relishing the punches he landed on the hybrid’s body.

The shapeshifter was a good fighter, returning Spike’s thrusts and parries with kicks and blows that shook him to the core. It had been a long time since Spike had been able to fight someone this skilled. In fact, the last time had been when he’d had the Gem of Amarra and had been fighting the Slayer, almost a year ago, now.

Spike missed the days when he and Buffy had fought. He might hate the bint, but he could appreciate a good fighter, and she was one of the best. Not as good as he was, ‘course.

With that thought, he swept his leg around, catching the shapeshifter behind the knees and knocking him to the ground.

Spike dropped to his knees, straddling the half-man, half-animal across its chest, and seized its head. He gave it a sharp twist, and with a satisfying crack, its neck broke and it died instantly.

“Well that was piss-easy,” Spike said, sneering.

The far wall of the chamber began to slide sideways, and Spike guessed that was his way out.

He looked down at the corpse, considering. Seemed a shame to let good blood go to waste. The bloke was a demon, but a hybrid: his blood would be mostly human. And who knew when he’d get his next meal.

Decided, Spike dropped to his knees beside the shapeshifter and brought it close to his mouth. He sunk his fangs into its neck, and began to drink.

***

Buffy felt like banging her head against the stone of the wall. Trapped in this room, which was becoming hotter and stuffier by the moment, she had no idea of how much time had passed. It felt like forever, her mind going round and round in circles trying to work out the riddle.

And all the while, the two guards had remained as still as statues, not saying anything, barely even breathing. They stared, though. She could feel the two sets of tiny, beady eyes boring into the back of her head - having turned to escape their gaze much earlier - and it was unnerving.

Buffy tried to organise her thoughts, and take it from the beginning.

“Okay. One of them can only tell the truth, and one of them can only tell lies. I get one question. But I don’t know which of them tells lies and which of them tells the truth. So I can’t just up and ask one of them if the door they’re guarding is the way out, because I don’t know if they’re the liar or not.” She closed her eyes and sighed. This was the same conclusion she had come to over and over, and she was just getting more and more confused. There was a logical answer, she knew it. It probably wasn’t even that difficult. But damned if she could work out what it was!

“Where’s Giles when you need him?” Buffy voiced the rhetorical question to the room, then immediately clapped her hands across her mouth. “That wasn’t my question!

Neither of the guards moved, and Buffy sighed in relief. She shot a wary glance at the dial around her neck. She hadn’t looked at it yet, too afraid that she would see Spike’s red hand far ahead of her blue one, and that would just frustrate her more.

She looked at it now, and sure enough: Spike’s indicator had moved around the face of the dial, and was now lined up with the five past the hour position.

“Great. Stupid vampire.” She dropped the dial back around her neck, and stared at both doors, hoping that the answer would pop into her mind. “Think, Buffy, think. You can do this.”

“Wait. If I asked one of the guards to point to the way out, I wouldn’t know if they were lying or telling the truth. But if I asked him which door the other guard would point to for the way out, and then took the opposite one…” She trailed off. “Cos, he would then be the liar? Or not? Is that right?”

She rubbed her eyes, fighting the onset of a headache. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Buffy stood up, and addressed her question to the guard on the right. “Which door would the other guard point to, if I asked him which was the way out?”

The guard’s face remained expressionless, but he lifted a robed arm and indicated the door behind him. Buffy let out a breath.

“Okay. So… I’m going to take the other one.”

The guards said nothing, so she stepped forwards, trying to feel confident in her choice. She lifted the latch, and turned the handle, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t find herself back at the beginning of the game.

When she saw the green grass and bright sunshine that lay beyond the door, she felt like sobbing in happiness.

Instead, she stepped through the door, without a second glance back towards the guards.

-TBC-

[xaphania]

Notes: Not sure if anyone's reading this here, but oh well. Hope you enjoy this chapter, and the slight-cliffhanger ending Thanks to PaganBaby for looking this over for me!

Chapter Three

Exhaustion was beginning to set in. Buffy didn’t know how long she had been walking, but it felt like forever. When she had left the room with the two guards, she had been relieved – happy, even – to be on her way.

The meadow she had stepped out into had been pleasant, the sun at just the right warmth and a nice breeze in the air. She’d been able to see quite far into the distance, and it appeared to be more of the same: picturesque fields and blue skies with little groves of trees, their leaves creating a dappled shade on the ground.

There had been a stony path, and Buffy had decided that was probably the way to go. Now, who-knew-how-many hours later, the picture-book landscape had turned foul. The sun was beating down relentlessly, and Buffy had come across neither food nor water.

The gamemasters had said that they would have to forage for food, but if there was nothing to forage, what good was that? She was sweaty, tired, hungry and getting desperate for a drink, but all she could see for miles ahead was the path winding endlessly into the horizon.

Buffy had taken to obsessively checking the dial. Her hand was now lined up with Spike’s, both of them hovering between the five-past and ten-past positions.

She found herself wondering what he was doing, whether he had had to solve a stupid riddle and was now trekking across the alternate dimension, or if his tasks were something different.

Buffy hoped that whatever he was up to, he was having as much fun as she was. Of course, fun in the sense that it’s not.

Boredom – that was another thing. God, was she ever fed up of only having herself for company! Buffy felt so starved for someone to talk to, that she would even have put up with Spike and his sarcastic comments.

She laughed out loud at her thoughts, and once she started, she found she couldn’t stop. This place was going to drive her insane, she knew it.

***

It was dark outside when Spike stepped through the gap in the wall. A clear, crisp night where every star was visible in the sky – not that any of them in this alternate dimension were familiar to him.

Spike was feeling pretty chuffed with himself. He’d defeated his opponent easily, filled himself up with the wanker’s blood – and the human part of the shapeshifter had made it the sweetest meal he’d had in months – and so far, it seemed like all he had to do next was take a stroll through the countryside.

He felt invigorated, and even seeing that the Slayer’s blue hand had caught him up was not enough to dampen his spirits. Spike walked along casually for a few miles, but his veins were racing with the borrowed blood and he decided to sprint for the next few. With a loping run, he ate up the miles, though what he was headed towards, he didn’t know.

After some time, he slowed down to a walk, noting the lightening of the sky in the east, and the innate vampire sense that told him dawn was near. He grinned, not tired in the least, and knowing that he could withstand the sun in this dimension, continued walking.

He knew something was wrong when he felt his skin begin to tingle, and then he stared in horror as his hands began to blister and burn. Spike glanced up at the sky, and saw that the sun was rising, hanging low and heavy and red on the horizon.

Smoke started to rise from his flesh, and he yelled in pain, looking around frantically for shelter. He slid his hands up into the sleeves of his duster, and then pulled it up over his head, trying to protect his face from the sun.

What the bleeding hell was going on? Yesterday, the sun hadn’t harmed him at all. He had been able to bask in it, enjoy it even.

“Not fair of you to change the bloody rules!” he shouted to the sky, as he ran for a grove of trees in the distance.

The trees were small, insubstantial saplings, and provided very little shade. One gust of wind – and well, he’d be dust in the breeze. He could see nothing in the immediate area that he could use to shelter for the day, just more groups of trees.

Spike crouched down against the trunk of the tree with the biggest canopy of leaves, and shrugged off his coat. He curled up as small as he possibly could, and then draped the coat around himself. He’d never been more thankful for the duster as he had in that moment.

The chain with the dial at the end had pooled in his lap, its bright face staring up at him. His indicator was still level with the Slayer’s, but he knew that she could very well overtake him whilst he was incapacitated. Spike turned the dial over, not wanting to look at it any more, and laid his head on his knees.

He’d just have to wait the day out. Be patient. He snorted.

Never been any good at that.

***

He’d slept, must have, because he jolted towards consciousness so suddenly it made him jump. Spike raised his head cautiously, peering out from between a crack in the leather. It was dark.

Spike stood up, shaking out his coat and stretching his stiff muscles. Hadn’t been a particularly comfy resting place, but he’d slept in worse. The unfamiliar pattern of stars smattered the sky, and tonight, there was a bright moon.

As he stood, he felt a sharp pain in his chest, a tightening across the skin that lay above his unbeating heart. He took a couple of deep breaths, confused by the prickling in his lungs.

Spike shook his head, refusing to dwell on it, instead hurrying back towards the path that hopefully led to the finish line and his freedom from the chip. Spike wondered how much mileage he had lost to the Slayer whilst napping the day away, but when he checked, he was surprised to see that her hand on the dial had not advanced any further than his.

“Well, well. Looks like the Slayer’s been having some troubles of her own.”

Slightly appeased, he set off. He hadn’t been walking for more than an hour, all the while ignoring the oddly-human aches and pains in his chest, when he felt his vampire sense tingling, signalling the sunrise.

“What the…”

He couldn’t have slept the clock around, could he? No, surely not.

He was about to make another mad dash towards the trees, when he realised that the sun had fully risen, and he wasn’t on fire.

“Fucking idiots!” he growled. “Messin’ with me like that!”

He had a feeling that things weren’t going to be as simple as he’d first thought.

***

Buffy knew she had to be hallucinating when she saw the settlement up ahead. It wouldn’t surprise her, she felt lightheaded and dizzy with the lack of food and water. But the image of the small town was an enticing one, and she sped up her pace, just a little.

The buildings were candy-coloured and the town was chocolate-box quaint. When she stepped onto the main street, she felt something strange pass through her, a shudder that began at her toes and worked its way up to her head. She shook it off, desperate to find something to drink.

The door to the nearest house was open, and Buffy hurried towards it, going in and quickly finding the kitchen. She fell upon the sink and gulped down several mouthfuls of water, relishing the icy coldness.

When her thirst was quenched, she opened the refrigerator, finding ham and lettuce and a tomato. There was bread on the counter, and Buffy quickly put together a sandwich, which she wolfed down in no time at all.

Fed and watered, the tiredness she had been keeping at bay crept over her once more, and she went into the living room, lay down on the couch, and fell asleep.

Buffy was awoken some time later by the sound of a key jiggling in the lock of the front door. She sat up, and stretched, and then felt that same strange charge pulse through her body. She looked towards the door, and smiled when she saw Spike walk through, arms loaded with groceries.

“Hey pet. I’m home.”

***