set at the start of s5
"Boo!" I shout, springing out from behind a tree in the cemetery, but Spike barely bats an eyelid as if he sees a killer clown ever day. My shoulders slum and I frown behind the mask.
"Are you quite finished, pet?" he asks, having the nerve to lean back on the tree and light up a cigarette without a care in the world.
"It's a prank. It's supposed to be scary." I rip the rubber mask off in a huff and before I can stop myself, I snatch the cig from his grasp and stamp on it.
"Hey!"
It's midnight, marking the beginning of April 1st, April Fools, and my first prank has not gone well which is mildly annoying. No matter, I still have my other friends to trick. I begrudgingly head home and head straight to bed, needing enough energy to think of a better prank to pull on the vampire. I drift off and dream that pastries are falling out the sky and Spike brings me an umbrella. It's weird, but not as weird as the dream I had where everything was made of shrimp...
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The bell tinkles to announce my presence to the gang as I enter The Magic Box. I can see this becoming our go-to hang out spot, I'm glad Giles brought this place, it's cool.
"Morning!" I smile chirpily, placing a box of donuts on the table. I don't need to draw attention to them (and it would be too obvious to do so) - Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Anya and Xander all scramble for a pastry. I've slyly been bringing a box once every two weeks since the start of the year to build their trust. Some may say that's conniving, I prefer genius.
"Blah!" they more or less exclaim in unison as they bite into something they weren't expecting.
"This isn't cream!" Anya pouts.
"Mayonnaise," I explain simply, "April Fools!"
They glare at me.
"Come on! It's funny."
Xander takes a swig of his orange juice, washing away the taste. He claps, half-genuine, half-sarcastic, "Better than last year, I applaud you."
"Thank you," I reply, thinking back to the classic bucket-of-water-on-top-of-the-door-frame prank last April. I sit in my chair and I instantly regret it. I know that sensation all too well.
An evil grin spreads across Xander's face.
"Touché." I say through gritted teeth. It was lazy of me not to check where I was sitting because Xander has sprinkled itching powered there, just waiting for my bare thighs to sit on - I shouldn't have worn a skirt today! Fair is fair, though, I can't complain.
I briskly get up and head for the door, "If you'll excuse me..."
Giles, who must have been taking out the rubbish, passes me on the way out, offering a sympathetic expression.
"Xander?" he asks. I nod as conformation and speed-walk home uncomfortably, dreaming of a nice warm shower.
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When I return, in a safer t-shirt and jeans, I find everyone (Tara's arrived) except Giles gathered around the table.
Xander is sprawled out across two chairs with his arms resting behind his head, eyes closed. "Whatever, but I want no part in it." he's saying.
"Part in what?" I ask as I enter, but he doesn't even open his eyes.
The question goes ignored as I collapse into the powder-free seat next to him, stretching out my legs. Willow slides the nearest giant, ancient, dusty book over to me which I open, flicking to the page I was on yesterday. Unlike everyone else (excluding The Watcher), I actually quite enjoy research - despite being deadly, each demon is unique and interesting. One of my favourite things to do is announce random facts I acquire to the quietly concentrated room, just to hear their reactions (they usually consist of ew and yuck).
"I've got something," Anya says shortly, pointing at something in her volume.
"Oh, yeah." Willow's eyes catch mine, "Can you get me some honeyed eyes from the basement?" she asks me politely.
She knows I hate it down there but I don't want to upset her more after that prank, Willow's sensitive, so I nod. The stairs creak under my weight and the temperature change makes me shiver. Why is it always freezing down here? The sooner I can leave, the better.
I scan the shelves and I suspect someone's been reorganising because I can't find them anywhere.
"I can't see them!" I shout and Dawn appears.
"Willow said to check the creepy cupboard!"
Within the basement, there's a small room which we refer to as 'the creepy cupboard'. That's usually where the expensive or dark magic stuff is kept and it's even more creepy than the basement, let alone more cramped. I take in a deep breath, having to trust Willow as I flick on the cobweb-covered light switch and open the door. The hinges scream for oil and the light drones steadily. The cupboard is an L-shape, I look down the shelves but would have to step right in to see around the right-hand bend. I really don't want to. It's musty and damp and cold and -
"Spike?" he appears from the bend of the cupboard and curses under his breath. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like, slayer junior? I'm stealin'."
I scoff, "At least you're honest." Now I'm looking, his pockets are bulging with various yellow jars and even a pair of frog legs stick out of one. "Are there any honeyed eyes down there?" I ask.
He smiles at me, grateful I'm not ratting him out, before he turns to look. "Well, I see two things that may be it but they're not labelled..."
Bravely, I step inside and join him at the end. I follow his outstretched finger to the top shelves and examine the jars - luckily, there's one jar left of the eyes Willow needs. Anya must have found a useful spell or something.
"The left one," I say and Spike reaches up, higher than I could ever reach, and gets them for me. "Thanks."
As soon as I turn to leave this dusty prison, the door slams shut and the lightbulb flickers at the movement but (thankfully) doesn't turn off.
"What the..." I mutter, fear already spiking in my chest.
Two distinguishable, girly laughs can be heard behind the door. Anya and Dawn. "This is revenge for the donuts!" Anya says proudly and Dawn chimes in with a faint "Yeah! And for all the pranks for the last five years!"
"Oh no," I start, banging on the door with both fists, "This isn't funny! Let me out! Guys?" Their footsteps die away, "I'm serious! HELLO?"
I listen, waiting, but all is silent. I spin back to Spike who is staring daggers at me.
"It's not my fault!" I protest.
"Is too!"
"No," I counter, pointing a finger at him (which I quickly lower as he looks like he might bite it off), "I didn't ask to be trapped in this hell-hole!" I gaze helplessly around the creepy cupboard which now, come to think of it, Anya is convinced is haunted. The knot in my stomach tightens. "Okay, yes, I pull silly little pranks on them - once a year, may I add - but they're harmless! And - look, Anya and Dawn aren't the pranking sort. They don't know what constitutes as a prank, they- they probably think this is hilarious. Damn, they even got Willow involved, that little snake..." I trail off, betrayed.
Spike huffs, crossing his arms, staring at the door as if he can shatter it with a penetrating stare. His eyes switch to me and I look at the floor.
"I'll kick it in." he suggests.
"You can try," I shrug, hopeless, "It's pure steal to prevent break ins. Although, it didn't stop you, did it?"
"It was open." Spike tells me and let out a sharp, frivolous laugh.
This can't be happening. To make matters worse, a spider, lithe and devious, makes its way up my bare arm and I whimper, flinging my arm out in an embarrassing attempt to shake it off. Spike smirks as I flail my arm about, shouting weakly, "Spider!" It mercifully drops to the floor and I not-so-mercifully squash it with my boot, which reminds me of how I stomped on Spike's cigarette this morning.
Silence falls. I curse my friends in my head and Spike grinds his teeth.
I consult my watch, just visible in the dim lighting, "It's passed noon so they're the fools." I mutter bitterly.
"Don't be so childish." Spike sneers.
"This isn't even a prank!" I continue, my anger still visceral, "Pranks are supposed to be funny."
The tension in the air fizzles out into silence again. The kind of silence which makes your skin crawl because I can sense another outburst brewing. I turn my back on him and rummage through the shelves - how are there no spell books in here?! What kind of magic shop is this?! I sink to the floor and wrap my arms around my knees. There's no way out. I hate it in here. Lock me anywhere else, lock me in the cemetery, Spike's crypt, the Master's lair but here? And, I feel guilty about Spike, he didn't do anything to deserve being trapped in here with me. He must hate me more than he already does. This place may as well be a cell - no windows, one very locked metal door, even a prison mate.
"Woah, slayer junior, breathe."
I look up, only to realise I can't. My chest feels like it's caving in on itself, this immense pressure constricting my heart and my mind feels like it's floating away. A grunt escapes my lips.
"Breathe," he says again (which is ironic for a vampire), crouching in front of me. His hands twitch awkwardly, like he doesn't know whether to touch me or not. He decides after a moment, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, you're okay. Breathe."
I gulp and the air gets stuck, my blood is pumping way faster than my mouth can handle. What is going on? Spike looks at me, worried, and says slowly, putting his other hand on my other shoulder, "Look at me, yeah? Can you tell me something you can see?"
Confused but not in a place to question him, I whisper, "Nose." My eyes are locked onto his face. It's stopped spinning.
"Good, good. Another thing?"
"Your eyes." I say and Spike grins. "Is it normal to feel like the walls are closing in?"
"They're not, pet, I promise. What's something you can hear?"
"My pulse."
"Ok, and another thing?"
I concentrate as I feel my breathing start to become more manageable. "The shelves creaking."
"Observant. Good. What can you smell?"
"Damp." I scrunch up my nose, "Your - your aftershave."
Spike nods, "Good, well done. Do you feel better?"
I swallow and take in the deepest breath I'm able to. He wipes a tear from my cheek gently.
"How did you do that?" I whisper.
He leans back, shifting to sit opposite me on the old wooden floor and my shoulders feel strange without his touch. "Helped Dru sometimes when she was out of it. Helped to ground 'er." he says, no big deal.
"I'm sorry," I say out of instinct, although I'm not sure what I'm apologising for - I'm not sure what just happened, "I - I don't know what came over me. It's this place, I just - I hate it."
"I think you're claustrophobic, pet. Mean prank for those girls to play on you." he adds with a remorseful glance to the door.
"They didn't know. I - I didn't know. I mean, I've always hated small spaces but haven't been in one long enough for... that to happen."
He looks at me sympathetically. I don't care for it. "It's okay. Maybe if we bang on the door like lunatics they'll let us out."
"Or they'll think we've gone insane."
Spike's lips twitch into a small smile. "Hey, they don't know I'm in here. We could scare them when they unlock us. Pretend I bit you or something." he jerks his head, morphing into his vamp-face. His yellow eyes glint mischievously.
I smile. "Possibly."
He laughs quietly and it dawns on me how Spike - this century old vampire who bickers with me constantly - just helped me so much at a time when I was completely out of control. He could've done anything, done nothing, but he helped me. Should I thank him, or has the moment passed? Instead, I say:
"Do you know any spells, per chance, that could help us get out of here?"
He tilts his head to one side, the look in his eyes is answer enough.
I sigh, "Wishful thinking."
"Make peace with it," he instructs me but not unkindly, "I'll tell you when I hear them coming. We've only been stuck for... what? Ten minutes?"
"And I've already had a nervous breakdown."
I sigh again, dropping my shoulders. "What should we do?"
"Smash every jar in this place as revenge? No? Fine. I could give you a tarot reading." He takes a tall plastic wrapped box from the shelf beside him - the top reads 'Tarot Cards' in a deep purple and embossed golden stars line the edges.
"You can read tarot cards?" I ask curiously, taking the box out of his hands to peel off the thin plastic (it's so satisfying).
"Nope, not at all," he smiles, "But I'll give it ago."
After shuffling the cards, he looks me in the eyes, suddenly serious, "Are you ready for your life to change?"
I break out in a grin, "Of course. Hit me."
Dramatically, he makes a show of placing the top card between us. "Hmmm, The Lovers. Interesting." I refrain from snorting, "I see a lover in your future."
"No shit," I reply, shaking my head fondly as Spike struggles for something more to say. "Reading tarot cards isn't fortune telling, they're used to interpret a question, usually." I add, knowing Tara would be annoyed by our misuse of these brand new, precious cards.
"Shh," Spike waves a hand, "Let me have my moment."
I purse my lips, letting him carry on - he looks like he's having fun and I still feel bad that he's stuck here, so I shut up.
"As I was saying, this person will come into your life soon, like a knight in shining armour. They will..." he draws the next card, Death, and places it next to The Lovers, "Urm, kill you?"
I laugh, snatching the cards from his hand, "My go. I remember some of the meanings 'cus Tara taught me but only some. Okay," I give them a quick shuffle and pluck out the Devil, "Hum, I think this one means you're gonna be seduced."
"Ooh," Spike smirks gleefully, "I like that."
I sigh, picking up another card, "The Fool. Fitting." Spike playfully frowns, "This one... I think it signifies a new beginning."
"Nice," Spike leans back on his palms, "I'll get whisked away by a seductive babe and we'll have a magical eternity together."
"If you say so," I turn the cards over and flick though them, studying the pretty drawings and wishing I could actually understand what they meant. Spike shifts to sit next to me, peering at the cards in my hand. I cycle through them and occasionally he'll comment on one he likes, but it's too quiet, too still, and I'm reminded of where we are. I still can't shake the dread that comes with us being trapped in here. "Spike," my voice is barely above a whisper, "When do you think they'll let us out?"
His eyes soften, "There's nothing we can do, love."
I sniff. The panic that consumed me earlier threatens to return so, without thinking, I reach for Spike's hand. He looks at me, vaguely surprised but he doesn't protest. I think he can feel me shaking. I brush my thumb gently along a scar between his thumb and pointer finger.
"Why don't you take a nap?" he suggests, gently.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep." I reply, but I stoop down lower against the door.
We sit in silence. I have no idea how long for, but at some point I nod off and awake with my head on Spike's shoulder. I jerk up and take my hand out of Spike's to wipe drool from my chin. I pray he didn't notice.
"Mornin'." he jokes.
"Did I snore?" Is the first thing that comes to my mind for some reason.
"A bit." he says, amused and I groan, "No, no, I thought it was cute."
I feel myself blush from the way Spike's looking at me - his eyes are all gooey and too blue.
I yell and grab onto Spike as the door swings open and we fall backwards. With a thud, we end up on the floor with Giles looming over us. Spike's sniggering, even though I swear I heard a crack and I'm still clinging to him like a coward. I jump to my feet and tackle Giles with a hug.
"Our saviour!"
Obviously confused, he hugs me back. "How long have you two been in there?"
I look at my watch which is blurry because of stupid, happy tears of relief - "Too long." I say darkly, "I am never talking to Dawn or Anya or Willow ever again."
Still bewildered, Giles takes off his glasses, cleans them, and raises his eyebrows at Spike's pockets.
"Oh yeah," Spike says, emptying them. I roll my eyes and run up the stairs, craving just a breath of fresh air. I hear Spike below say, "See you, Watcher. And thanks." before his footsteps follow mine.
The dark is cool and refreshing and the moon has never looked more beautiful. Spike joins me and asks, "All better?"
"Very much so. Except I'm three friends down."
Spike smiles, "You'll make up."
I turn to him, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Most definitely not."
"Revenge!" I beam, and Spike shakes his head fondly.