Chapter 2 – "Well Isn't THIS A Bloody Funhouse—"

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                "So, what are we up to tonight, Slayer?" he asked as they walked down a basically deserted stretch of road. Around them were old, decrepit buildings that looked like they were going to topple over any minute. "This is a lovely place, you know."

                "I can't believe I let you come with me—" she sighed loudly. "Shut up, what do you want to do, wake the—"

                "Dead? 'Fraid you're a bit late, Slayer." He grinned. "I am the embodiment of the dead."

                "Yeah, you smell like it too." She grumbled lightly.

                "I'll have you know I am in the picture perfect hygienic health." He replied. "I told you that before. You don't get this hair by not taking care of it, let me tell you."

                "You would like your hair." She rolled her eyes.

                "Don't you? I think the blonde brings out my eyes." He grinned.

                "This is one bad nightmare." She muttered under her breath. "We are going to get an item for one of Willow's experiments, all right?"

                "Why doesn't Witchy go get herself?" he smirked.

                "Think about it. This is not exactly the place I would send her alone too." She explained vaguely. Spike paused.

                "There's a monster guarding it, isn't there?" he asked.

                "You got it Willy." She obviously purposely used his first name to annoy him.

                "Please refrain from using my first name." He muttered.

                "I still can't believe you got your little 'the bloody' title from—"

                "All right, when did this become a round of piss off the vampire?" he frowned.

                "When you decided to follow me around like you always do." She chuckled lightly.

                "Little wench—" he replied under his breath. He fell silent for a moment, the continued questioning. "So what kind of monster is this? Bloodsucker? Werewolf? Ghoulie?"

                "Why? Scared?" she sneered.

                "Hey, I'm the one who's almost bloody immortal." He leered. "I'm not afraid of anything."

                "I should comment, but I'm not. It's just too easy." She stopped suddenly. Spike wasn't watching and he crashed into her. He caught her before she fell over because of her unbalance. "Ugh, don't touch me." She pushed his hand away, and he frowned.

                "Did anyone ever tell you you're unhinged?" he smirked.

                "That's funny coming from a guy who sucks blood from his own nose."

                "I did that once. And I wouldn't have to do that if you didn't have a bloody chip stuck in my head!"

                "Let's just go. I'm tired, I want to go to sleep, so let's get that stupid item and get out of there." She began walking, and he followed gingerly. She tried to open the door. It was locked.

                "Allow me." He smiled. Before she could respond, he took his leg and smashed the door to pieces. She rolled her eyes.

                "You idiot!" she hissed. He blinked. "Are you trying to get us caught?"

                "But—I—and—ahh, bugger it—" he groaned. "Just can't win with you, can I?" She didn't respond, but pushed past him. He watched her for a moment. Then, continuing under his breath, "You'll see, one day—"

                "Come on!" he heard her whisper sharply. He shook his head, jarring out of his thoughts, and followed.

                He fell in step with her, walking just behind her. He glanced around. The place they entered was like a mansion inside, and everything was dusty and old like the outside had been. There was no light inside, basically because there were no windows. She had a flashlight, and she was using it—he almost forgot that his eyesight was unusual.

                They entered a new room, another hallway. Spike continued looking around. There were a lot of things she was missing with that dinky little plastic flashlight. His eyesight was so perfect for nighttime now, and he saw the paintings on the wall that she didn't see. Someone had been in there before, and from the symbols he noticed, they enjoyed praying to a few pretty mean little devils. He saw a few swastikas, few pentagrams—yeah, this was a fun place.

                He suddenly looked forward. Where did her little light go? He glanced around, peering, trying to find her. Did she just leave him there to get lost? "Buffy?" he whispered, trying not to be loud. "This is not funn—" and suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder. Not expecting it, he jumped, falling over in shock.

                His eyes narrowed when he heard snickering. "Scared much?" He glared up at her, standing up.

                "You're such an awful little—"

                "I think I found something." She whispered, cutting him off. "Come on."

                "Wait, Buffy—" he glanced around. "Something is wrong here."

                "You're wasting time." She responded quickly.

                "Turn on your light." He pointed to the flashlight. She sighed, but ended up doing so. Buffy's breath got caught up in her throat.

                "Um—Spike, is it just me or is the wall oozing green slime?" she asked, backing away. Suddenly her flashlight went out, and now they were standing in the dark with walls oozing some sort of goo.

                "It's surrounding us." Spike said, looking around.

                "It smells." She said, her voice showing that she was tensed up. Spike sniffed. He knew that smell. He didn't like that smell.

                "It's acid." He whispered. "Not good."

                It was coming nearer to them, and now he was back to back with her. It was all around them. This wasn't good at all. Spike looked around, trying to find anything that'd help them. He noticed it the third time he looked around, an air duct. Thank god the ceiling was low. He jumped up, his hand grabbing on to the old piece of metal covering the duct, ripping it completely off. Buffy stared at him in surprise as he suddenly jumped again, grasping to the sides of the opening, pulling himself up into it.

                He turned around quickly, looking down from the hole. It was almost touching her. "Grab my hand, Slayer!" She blinked, peering up, grabbing in blind hope to get his hand. He caught it the second try. He took no pause and pulled her up, seconds before the acid burned the area they were standing on seconds before. She was still dangling though, and he pulled her up quickly.

                She was finally able to grab the edge and pull herself in. They sat in the duct, Buffy panting, Spike shaking his head in disbelief. "Well isn't this a bloody funhouse—"

                "What the hell was that?" she asked, even though she knew he didn't know.

                "You're the one who dragged me here. And see? I told you you needed me." He replied, sounding triumphant.

                "I could have found that." She smirked.

                "I don't know why I bother—" he mumbled under his breath. He looked down, and blinked in shock.

                "Check it out." He smirked. Buffy blinked, peering down as well.

                "But the slime—where did it—?" she scratched her head. The entire floor was spotless and how it was before. "This is too weird. It's almost like a tr—"

                She was cut off when suddenly the whole duct began to shake. "This is odd." Spike said, clutching onto the sides of the large vent. "Is it just me or is this thing slanting—?"

                Suddenly it just tipped in a steep slant, and it became one huge slide. Buffy managed to grab ahold of the opening of the duct, but Spike wasn't so lucky. He lost his grip and began sliding down. Not knowing what to do, he grabbed whatever was near him, which happened to be her waist. If Spike didn't exactly fear for his bloody undead life, he would be enjoying how this situation had him—basically on top of her, his hands grabbed onto her sides.

                "I don't suggest you let go." He managed to say.

                "If we get out of this I'm going to kill you." She said through gritted teeth. She let out a gasp when suddenly she heard rumbling from above.

                "More fun?" Spike asked, looking up the slanted duct. His mouth dropped. "LET GO!"

                "But—!" she started.

                "Now!" She finally did and the two began sliding down the duct quickly. Above them was a fun little block of pure cement that was taking the ride with them. Suddenly they were airborne, and Spike grabbed the edge of the opening of the duct, using the momentum to swing him over. He managed to grab her leg and she ended up going along right with him.

                She fell to the ground, and he followed, landing on top of her. Seconds later the block that almost smashed their heads opened landed as well, shattering into a million pieces. "Get off me!" He realized where he was and quickly rolled off her, sitting up. He rubbed his sore hands.

                "Are you all right?" he asked as she sat up, rubbing her head. "I suppose that was my fault too, huh?"

                "If you hadn't found that damn duct in the first place—"

                "You're unbelievable." He rolled his eyes. He stood up, brushing himself off. She followed his lead.

                "Where are we?" she asked.

                "Do I look like I bloody know?" he asked.

                "What do you see?" she replied sharply. He sighed, looking around.

                "We're in some sort of storeroom, I guess.  Lots of boxes. There's a big opening straight ahead, a big circle. Probably where these weirdos sacrificed their kills." He explained.

                "Take me." She commanded.

                "I thought you didn't want to help you." He replied, smirking.

                "Now." She responded, a warning tone in her voice.

                "Women. Fine, come on." He felt her walk next to him, and he led her quietly to the circle. He glanced around, seeing all the signs he saw before. Suddenly he took a step back, there was an unnatural wind coming from somewhere. "I don't think we're alone." He managed to say.

                "You getting that feeling too?" she asked tersely.