This chapter is dedicated to all those who've waited patiently for some Spuffy goodness!

PART 8

The meagre campfire crackled as the twigs shifted in its blaze, giving out little warmth and next to no light. It had been the best that they could do, however. At least it was something to look at, Spike mused as he huddled in front of it, something other than that bloody sky, that is.

Hours had gone by since they had found themselves stranded in this dark wilderness. At first, they had tried to explore it a little, but even Spike's eyesight was limited in this gloom. They were trapped in a wasteland which, though not as forbidding as a desert,, was still depressingly barren. No trees, so grass, just low lying brambles and rocks.

Uneasily, Spike worried about how they were going to eat; he had sensed no other life since he'd arrived, not even the twitch of an insect. The not so small problem of water also preyed on his mind; from the state of the brambles, he surmised that this place hadn't seen water in a very long time.

Glancing up at the sky, he winced; it was that, more than anything else that really rammed home that they weren't in Kansas anymore. Staring at it was not unlike looking at normal sky through a shaky hand-held camera. Every few moments, the stars literally streaked across the sky like comets and then, just as suddenly, jerked back into a stationary place.  Before she had dozed off, Buffy had complained that it had made her feel seasick, he had to agree, he too felt a bit queasy looking at it. It was if the rules of the universe had suddenly upped and changed and maybe - Spike admitted to himself - that's exactly what had happened.

Looking down, he watched Buffy's nose twitch in her sleep. From experience he knew that meant she was dreaming, he sincerely hoped it was a pleasant one because he had a funny feeling that real life wasn't going to be sunshine and puppies in the near future. Shifting his legs carefully so as to not waken her, he threw another bramble twig onto the fire. As he had volunteered for the first watch, Buffy had settled down for a nap - using Spike's lap as a pillow.

There was one subject that he hadn't brought up before she went to sleep, the sunrise. Looking around, he figured that he was done for; there was no cover and no means to construct one. The bramble branches were useless for building a shelter with and the only option open to him was burying himself. Even the thought made him shudder, he hated being buried alive, all that earth choking him  under its weight. He'd had to do it a couple of times in the past when he'd been caught out in the open too near dawn, but it wasn't something that any vampire relished - too many memories about the less pleasant aspects of their first death.

For a moment, Spike briefly entertained the idea that there mightn't be a dawn... hell...there mightn't even be any sun - there wasn't a moon after all. Then a second, worse idea, came to mind. What if there was a sun but it acted like the stars? His stomach did a summersault as he imagined a big yellow sun doing cartwheels through the sky.

Mumbling in her sleep, Buffy moved her head on his lap and Spike pulled his coat tighter around her shoulders. Thankfully, the night air wasn't that cold or else they might have been in real trouble, he didn't relish the idea of Buffy suffering from hypothermia to top everything off. Absently, he stroked her hair as he mulled over what the panther had said before he had thrown them into this hellhole…that this was a test. "A test of what, exactly," he muttered to himself. "Is this the demonic version of getting your Boy Scout's 'survival skills' badge?"

"Spike?"

Spike looked down into open eyes of the Slayer, her gaze still soft with sleep. "It's still night, luv, go back to sleep," he said gently as he continued to play with her hair.

"Not sleepy," she told him with a small grin that got even wider as he tried to frown at her disapprovingly.

"You need your rest, pet," he scolded as he resisted her attempts to sit up, resistance was futile, however.

"I can rest later," she told him, swatting away his hands as she pulled herself up and sat cross-legged beside him, rearranging his coat upon her shoulders as she did so.

Raising his hands in surrender, he contented himself with throwing a few more twigs in the fire. "It's going to be dawn soon," he told her in a carefully neutral voice as he stared into the flames. "I'm going to have to start digging myself some shelter…" Looking up, he tried to gauge the expression on her face, sometimes the bloody woman's face was so hard to read.

Pensively, Buffy stared back. "There really isn't any other choice, is there?" she asked hesitantly. "I…I don't have to like it, though," she added.

"That makes two of us," he admitted. "But it's either that or…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I've seen you go up in a ball of fire before…I don't want a repeat performance…" she answered dully. "Well, let's get a move on, then. We don't have all night."

Startled, Spike realised she was offering to help. "You don't have to do that, luv," he protested. "I can manage on my own."

"Don't be silly, Spike. As you said, dawn is coming soon and we don't exactly have a shovel. We're going to have to dig with our hands and I don't think you have enough time to do that solo."

Wincing, Spike remembered her bloodied knuckles after she dug herself out of the grave. Instinctively, he knew that this wasn't easy for her. "It only needs to be a shallow hole, pet, not…"

"…not six foot deep," Buffy finished off his sentence for him. "Its okay, Spike, no biggie. Responsible and adult Buffy, here - let's just do it, okay?

Silently, they scrambled to their feet and hunted around for a likely spot. Eventually, they came across a spot that wasn't too overrun by rocks. The earth was packed tight, however, and Spike began to worry that they mightn't have enough time with even two pairs of hands.

The sky was beginning to lighten to a dull, red, glow when they eventually had managed to hollow out a shallow grave. Once Spike laid himself out, Buffy pulled his coat off her shoulders to cover him. "So that you don't get too much dirt in you clothes," she explained shyly as she tucked the collar of his coat under his chin. Spike raised an eyebrow but managed to keep his mouth shut for once.

Spreading the dirt evenly over him, she left the head and shoulders for last. Frowning, she chewed her lip. "I don't have anything to cover your face," she said worriedly.

"Don't worry, luv, I'll keep my mouth closed."

A grin spread across her face. "Well, that will be a first!"

"Just cover me up, will you, you daft bint," he complained. "The sun is coming up, you know!"

Sure enough, the sky was getting redder. Grabbing a handful of dirt, Buffy spread it carefully around his shoulders, leaving the face for last. Grabbing another handful, she leaned forward, an impassive expression on his face.

"Anytime soon slayer…."

Warm lips shut him up as Buffy kissed him fiercely on the mouth. Dazedly, his lips opened to her assault as her tongue slid inside his mouth and explored. He wondered dimly why she had waited until now; this would have been a lot more fun earlier on…or maybe not.

Shifting, she climbed onto his 'grave' for better access as her hands entangled themselves in his hair, soft little appreciative moans escaping from her lips as he began to kiss her back in earnest. It was a good thing he was undead, he thought dizzily, or this grave would be beginning to get uncomfortably hot - although there was other forms of discomfort he was not immune to… Eventually though, she came up for air.

"Have to cover you up," she panted.

"Oh, I don't know…you seemed to be doing a pretty good job of covering me right now," he said suggestively.

Rolling her eyes, she smirked down at his grinning face as she put the last of the dirt on his face.

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As the sun cleared the horizon, Buffy shifted uncomfortably on the rock she used as a seat. "Well, at least it isn't doing the tango along the skyline," she muttered to herself as she eyed the large red orb that glowed dully in the sky. Something about it, however, was nagging at the back of her mind.

 "Let me see," she thought. "It's big, red, dull…dying," the word came unbidden to her mind and Buffy groaned as she remembered why it looked familiar - high school physics, this sun was a perfect example of an old and dying sun. Trying to comfort herself with the fact that it would be millennia before it went nova, Buffy tried not to dwell on the thought that nothing else seemed to follow the rules of physics around here.

Grumbling, she turned her gaze onto the freshly turned earth that covered Spike's body. She had tried not to let it show, but burying Spike had been one of the most difficult things she had ever done. Logically, she knew that he was alright; it wasn't as if he needed to breathe or anything. The fresh mound of earth, however, brought back memories that she tried very hard to suppress the last few years.

 Since she had become a slayer Buffy had faced unimaginable horrors, but the memory that still terrified her most was the night she woke up in her coffin. It was a wonder that all vampires weren't a bunch of nervous wrecks, she thought.

It was then that she noticed the shift in the light. Looking up, she squinted at the sun. It was still just as dull and red as it was when it rose…then why was it brighter? Turning around, she looked at the far horizon - from behind the low mountains to the west, dawned another sun. "Well I'll be damned," she thought, jumping up with a startled gasp. "Two suns!"

Staring at the new sunrise, an idea began to form in her mind. Remembering a story that Cordelia had told her over the phone about a trip she'd taken to a dimension called Pylea, she stumbled over to Spike's grave. "I'll just uncover a hand first," she reassured herself. "In case I'm wrong."

Scrabbling at the dirt, her fingers eventually felt the soft leather of his coat. Groping around underneath it, she grabbed his hand and pulled it out carefully, ready to push it back under at a second's notice. Turning his pale hand onto its palm, she watched excitedly as it failed to burn. "Yes!" she cried triumphantly, digging at the grave furiously.

The grave began to shift as Spike moved under the earth. Spluttering wildly when Buffy scraped the dirt from his face, he struggled against her hands. "What are you doing, you stupid bint," he roared. "The sun is still up…"

Smugly, she waited as the import of his words sunk in. "I'm not burning," he said in wonderment.

"Two suns," Buffy explained, pointing at the second, brighter sun that had risen over the far horizon.

"Like Pylea," said Spike, nodding in understanding, having heard the tale himself. Suddenly, a slow smile spread across his face. "Like Pylea," he reiterated slowly as he leapt to his feet.

"Yeah, cool, isn't it?" Buffy replied with a grin. "You might even get a tan!"

"Oh yes, that'd be the first thing to comes to mind," he purred, advancing on a startled Slayer.

"We don't have time for this," she protested as he grabbed her.

"And, of course, we had plenty of time earlier on," he argued. "When we thought I had only seconds to go before I burned to a…"

"Oh, shut up and kiss me, you idiot," she growled, pulling his head down to capture his mouth.

TBC…

Yeah, yeah, I know, gratuitous Spuffiness in the middle of an apocalypse – but I couldn't help myself, honest!

Jinxed J