Do I like reviews? Hell yeah, with sugar on top.

PART 6/?

His first instinct had been to run after her when she stormed out of the lab, but that plan was dashed to pieces when Wesley snagged him in the hall.

"Let go of me you bloody ponce," he snarled at the former Watcher, ripping his coat out of his grip. "Can't you see I'm in a hurry here?"

Wesley ignored Spike's game-face and grabbed his arm again. "You're needed in the conference room, Spike," he explained calmly. "Come on."

Spike glared at him and showed his fangs, but the annoying little git wasn't phased. "You'll have to do better than that to get rid of me, Spike. I've had a vampire as a boss for the last four years, remember?"

Reluctantly, Spike allowed himself to be dragged off to the conference room. Ignoring the dirty look he got from Xander, he slumped onto the couch beside him. A moment later, Willow and Fred entered the room, Kennedy following closely behind. Rolling his eyes, Spike looked around the room for someone more interesting to talk to and caught Dawn's attention.

With a tremulous smile, she crossed the room and perched on the end of the couch beside him. "I see Willow's spell worked, Buffy is going to be so pleased, she totally freaked out when she realised that you were a ghost."

Spike smiled noncommittally, deciding to keep his mouth shut for once. Pity he couldn't have managed that earlier. Aw well, it could have been worse, he supposed. He could have told her she had stupid hair. Sniffing the air, he braced himself as he turned to look at the door. A split second later, Buffy walked through it. Glancing sideways at Dawn, he saw her expectant smile turn into a frown as Buffy ignored the couch and marched to the other end of the room.

If anybody else noticed the cold shoulder treatment, they didn't comment on it, instead they talked about apocalypses and prophesies. For some strange reason, this lot always found death and world endage easier to talk about than the more mundane problems of life. Having said that, he wasn't in a position to throw stones - in fact, it seemed that he'd lost his stones altogether, somewhere between here and the basement.

And so, the argument wore on about what their plan of action would be, the only two people in the room who had nothing to add to the debate were him and Buffy.  Nonchalantly, he studied his boots; this whole avoiding eye contact thing was really hard work, the prospect of an imminent apocalypse was actually becoming attractive.

"So, you're back among the undead, then,"

Spikes head lifted at the sound of that familiar British accent. "Hello Rupert, how are things in merry old England."

"Wet."

"Hmm." That pretty much dried up all they had to say to each other, they hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms last time they'd met. Reluctantly, he tuned into the conversation around him. Apparently, Willow and Wesley had come to the conclusion that Aelemus mightn't give up just because he didn't have his ready made sacrifice on tap anymore. On top of that, Anya wouldn't leave the matter of the white room alone.

"Why won't you listen to me?" she asked exasperatedly. "If Aelemus is about to rise, its because the white room wishes it. Do something about it, close it down or something."

"Anya, honey, calm down," Xander said soothingly.

"No, I will not calm down, Xander," Anya said crossly, folding her arms as she stood. "I may not be well versed in the way of mortals but I do know a thing or two about the demon world. In case you have forgotten, I was a demon for over a thousand years and if there is one thing I learned during that time, it's how to spot the evil mastermind behind the curtain!"

Anya's speech had one effect; it woke Buffy up from her grey study. "You really think this white room is that dangerous, Anya?" she asked worriedly.

"Yes, yes I do," Anya told her excitably, pulling her by the arm towards the door. "Lets go and put a stop to it!"

"Hold on a minute, Anya," Buffy said, amusement colouring her voice. "I'd like to have a few facts about this room first – Angel, can you help me out here?"

"There's not much to say, really," Angel reluctantly admitted. "We kind of inherited it, part of the package deal, so to speak."

"Package deal with the devil, you mean," retorted Anya. " What the hell is wrong with you? You've got a room in the basement that houses one of the nastiest evils on the planet, and all you do is shrug your shoulders."

For a moment, all awkwardness was forgotten, as Buffy and Spike caught each other's eye and smirked.

"Hey, I saw that!" Anya protested defensively. "I'm not blind, you know!"

Buffy shook her head resignedly. "Lets have a look at this den of iniquity, then," she said. "Where in the basement is it, exactly?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, I'm afraid," piped up Fred. "The room may not allow you to enter."

"What, does this room have some kind of mystical bouncer or something?" Buffy asked sarcastically. "I promise I'm over twenty one – I've got ID and everything."

"Well, there is this elevator, you see…" started Fred.

"…And when you get in it, sometimes it brings you to the right floor and sometimes it doesn't." Wesley finished for her.

"Okay, you know that is way creepy, right?" Buffy said disbelievingly. "What exactly happens when it doesn't bring you to the correct floor?"

"We're not exactly sure," muttered Angel. "Nobody has returned to tell us."

A determined look spread across Buffy's face as she turned to face the rest of the room.  "Seems that I'm going on a little mystery tour, then," she declared, picking up her weapons bag. "Which way is the elevator?"

In a flash, Spike was on his feet. "Hold on a moment, you're not seriously thinking of going down there by yourself, are you?" he asked incredulously, blocking her way through the door.

Buffy gave him an irritable look as he refused to move out of her way. "Its my job, Spike," she said. "Now get out of my way."

"Bugger that! I'm going with you." Spike told her. Taking a deep breath, he waited for her to object, but all he got was a single, inscrutable, look before she nodded in assent.

"Shall I come too?" asked Willow eagerly. "You know, in case you need some mojo." Leaping to her feet, she wiggled her fingers suggestively in the air as she looked at the two of them hopefully.

"No, the fewer we put at risk, the better," Buffy decided, after giving her friend a lopsided grin. "Besides, I'll feel safer getting into that elevator if I know that you're up here and ready to pull us out if we get into trouble."

Spike observed that Willow didn't look too happy about being left behind, but, with a rueful smile, she sat down again. Angel was another matter, however.

"I'm going too," he declared. "It seems only fair, seeing as I'm supposed to be the one responsible for the darned thing."

"My decision is made, Angel," Buffy told him firmly. "Only two of us are going, no more, no less. Now – which elevator is it?"

Wordlessly, Angel strode out into the hall and pointed at a nondescript elevator at the end of the hall. Turning to look at Buffy, he said softly, "You press the bottom button once you're inside."

Nodding in understanding, Buffy made her way silently to the elevator doors, Spike hard on her heels.

"Here goes nothing," she murmured under her breath, pressing the button. With a hiss, the doors slid open. "Oh good, no wait, no fuss," she remarked wryly as she stepped inside.

 Cautiously, Spike poked his head inside before he stepped in beside her. Once he was sure nothing was going to leap out of the panelling, he gestured at the control enquiringly. "Will you do the honours, luv?" he asked. "Or shall I?"

Buffy's hand slammed on the button and the elevator jumped to life. Spike's felt his stomach do a little somersault as his feet lifted from the carpet. The box was descending at a phenomenal rate, gathering speed as they fell further and further into the bowels of Wolfram and Hart. Nervously, he backed away from the walls as they began glow.

"I'm beginning to get a real bad feeling about this," muttered Buffy.

"You don't say," drawled Spike. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy replied absently as she studied the control panel closely, was it her imagination or were the buttons beginning to change colour?

Spike frowned; usually Buffy's insults carried a lot more bite. "What's the matter, luv?"

Buffy glanced up at him. "Look at the buttons, they've gone black."

Spike peered at the panel; she was right, they had darkened in colour. "Might be nothing…just a mystical elevator thing," he supplied cautiously as he examined it closely.  Warily, his hand hovered over the panel as his looked at Buffy for permission.

"You might as well," she said with a shrug. " It doesn't look as if this elevator is slowing down anytime soon."

Extending his index finger, he gingerly touched the bottom button. "Doesn't seem to be doing anything differe…" with a gasp, he stopped mid sentence.

"What is it, what's wrong," Buffy asked anxiously as she watched the pain flash across his face.

"I don't know, exactly, it just doesn't seem to want to let me go," Spike admitted.

"Huh? Lemme see," she said as she hunched over the panel, her eyes widening as she saw how the button had melded itself to Spikes finger. "Whoa, now that is just plain weird."

"You should try looking at it from my end," muttered Spike as he tried in vain to remove his finger from the button.

"You had better stop pulling, Spike," Buffy advised. "It just seems to be making it worse."

Spike froze and looked down at his hand, sure enough, the button had now crept up his finger and spread over the back of his hand. "Great," he muttered. "Death by black elevator ooze, at least the last time I died with a bit of class."

"Don't you dare talk like that," scolded Buffy. "If anyone is going to kill you around here, it's me. I think I've earned that right by now."

"Whatever you say, luv," Spike said, smirking at her frowning face.

Rolling her eyes, Buffy turned her attention to the panel. "What do you think it is? And please don't say 'black ooze'"

"At a guess, I'd say that we've accidentally triggered some security precaution," suggested Spike. "Its probably an automatic response to touching the panel before its reaches its destination."

"Well' isn't that just peachy," grumbled Buffy.

"In all fairness, luv, I don't think that Angel had anything to do with this," Spike joked.

"Spike, I don't think this is the right time to discuss your Angel issues," Buffy sighed. "How about we stick to the problem at hand?"

"It was just joking," mumbled Spike. "Can't blame me for lightening the mood, what with me dying here and all."

"I told you to stop saying that," Buffy protested. "I didn't go to all the trouble of having Willow returning you to solid form so that you can up and die on me before the day was out."

"I thought Willow did that to prevent Aelemus from using me as a sacrifice," said a surprised Spike.

"Umm yeah, that too," muttered an embarrassed Buffy. "Lets change the subject, shall we?"

"Whatever you say, Slayer," replied Spike smugly, eyeing her flushed cheeks.

"Oh, stop that!" she snapped.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like the cat that ate the canary, that's what," she retorted. "This is…you are…you have stupid hair, you know!"

Spike smiled knowingly as she crossed her arms and pouted. This time yesterday, Buffy's inability to admit that she cared for him would have hurt like hell. But many things can happen in a day, like a slayer making a declaration of love for a certain vampire, for instance – oh yeah, life was sweet, black ooze not withstanding.

"Does it hurt?"

"What?" with difficulty, Spike tore his eyes off her pout and raised them to meet hers.

"Does it hurt, your hand, I mean," she asked, her mouth twitching in amusement.

"Oh…that…not really, they're was a twinge when it first attached itself, but nothing since. In fact, it seems to be having the opposite effect, my hand has gone numb."

"Ooh, that doesn't sound good," she said worriedly. "And look, its still growing!" By now, the ooze had managed to wrap itself around his wrist. "That's it," Buffy declared, "I'm ripping that panel off the wall!"

"Careful, luv," Spike warned. "We don't want you to get caught too."

"Don't worry," she said reassuringly. "I'll use a sword to pry it off - no touching with hands for Buffy," grimacing, she stopped mid-sentence. "That so didn't come out the way I meant it to."

"Its okay, luv, I promise I won't tell anyone," sniggered Spike, curling his tongue suggestively.

"Yeah, because everyone knows that you're just the epitome of discretion," she grumbled as she rooted around in her weapons bag and drew out a two handed bastard sword. "Now, move to the right a bit, I'm going to need a little elbow room here."

Spike obediently moved out of her way as she slid the sword around the edges of the panel and began to lever it off the wall. "Better hurry up, luv, this ooze stuff is getting a bit frisky," he said, as he flexed his forearm. The ooze was slowly, but surely, making its way to his elbow.

"Nearly…there…" she huffed as the panel creaked under the pressure. "One more push…" With a pop, the panel flew from he wall and dropped to the floor, taking Spike's hand with it.

With a shudder, the elevator stopped dead in its tracks, sending them both flying to the other end of the elevator. They barely had a second to catch their breath before the lights died and the room filled with a dull red glow as mist started to flow in through the air ducts.

"Oh please," grumbled Spike. "The least they could have done was be a bit more original. Its like a cheap knock off from a 'Hammer Horror' film, next thing you know we'll have organ music playing in the background."

"You know you've just jinxed us," pointed out Buffy. " I hate musac, I still get flashbacks from that time I worked in the double meat."

"Ooh, is the poor little slayer afraid of the big, bad, piped music," teased Spike.

"Don't start," Buffy warned. "I'm having a bad day…and you know what happens when I have a bad day."

Spike grinned, but kept his mouth shut.

"How's your hand," Buffy asked briskly, getting to her feet and brushing herself down.

Tentatively, he tried to pull his hand from the ooze. Breathing a sigh of relief, he watched the ooze shrivel up and turn to dust as he pulled his last finger free. "Well what do you know, it worked!"

"Great, now all we have to worry about is getting out of here," she said. Looking up at the roof, a thoughtful expression settled on her face. "I suppose we could always try going up?" she suggested. With a sickening lurch, the elevator began to drop again. "Okay, scratch that plan, it looks like we're on our way down again."

A low growl filled the room. "Um, Buffy," Spike said, as he eyed the gaping hole that had been hidden behind the control panel. "I think we have company."

"But of course we have," Buffy said with a sigh.

As one, they leaned forward to have a better look inside the hole. "Oh look, it has glowing eyes," Spike muttered sarcastically. "Who would have guessed."

"Its not his eyes I'm worried about," Buffy told him. "Can you make out the rest of him? All I can see is black."

"Ah, luv, the black stuff is him," Spike replied, looking at the ooze that spilled out of the hole and dribbled onto the floor."

"Yuck, ooze with eyes, how the hell are we going to kill this thing?" asked Buffy.

"Frankly, luv, I think this is one those situations where we run away."

"I hate to point this out to you, Spike, but we're trapped in here, there's nowhere to run."

"Oh Bugger…"

TBC…