That was a fair question, Buffy decided, as she blinked hazily. The surroundings were coming in and out of focus; blue and brown colors were swimming around her. Dizzy, she stumbled and jerked forward, only to be caught in Spike's arms.
"Careful there, love," he said against her ear. "Unless you fancy takin' a swim?"
A swim? Swimming involved water, and they'd been standing on grass only a few seconds ago, and now it was all brown and wooden, and right below them was…oh. Ocean water. They were on a dock.
"What did you do," she moaned, clutching her head.
"Regret to tell you that I'm as innocent as you are in this mess," he old her absently, looking around.
"Like you could ever be innocent."
The raging headache seemed to have mostly cleared up, and Buffy was able to stand up and open her eyes. Don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto…
"You killed the wrong carrot," Spike grinned, whipping his hand across his eyes. "We seem to have been transferred somewhere. A long way, I think, cause this place is as 'ar from Sunnydale as you can get."
Well, fuck.
"But we can get back, right?" Buffy said, unable to keep the panic from her voice. "God, that stupid vegetable, I'm going to kill it!"
She glared at him, with his would-be-innocent eyes, and smirk, and the sun's ray falling across his face…
"Spike!" she shrieked, instinctively throwing herself on top of him. They tumbled down on the dock, and Spike swore.
"If you'd wanted to jump my bones this much, Summers, all you 'ad to do was ask."
"The sun, you idiot. It's the middle of the day, and you're in the sun, and you aren't burning."
His eyes widened, and he stopped struggling. Then he felt it. Warmth falling all over his face, and arms, and any part of him that wasn't covered in slayer. Come to think of it, the part of him that had slayer on top of it seemed just as happy as the part that got sun.
"You aright, mate?" Came a voice from somewhere on top of them.
Buffy looked up.
A man was leaning over them, concern visible on his scarred face. He frowned, waving his hand in front of her face.
"Alive down there?" he asked again.
"Y-yes," she stuttered, struggling to get off of Spike. The man regarded them curiously, hands tucked into his trousers. Trousers? "Erm…where exactly are we?"
Spike rose as well, frowning as the sun beat harmlessly upon his skin.
"Yer in Tortuga, mateys," the man said. "Everyone knows Tortuga."
Buffy opened her mouth and closed it a few times. They were in Tortuga with a man who looked like he had stepped out of a bad pirate movie. Sunnydale had vanished.
"Thanks mate," Spike said, sensing the slayer about to erupt. "Sorry to bother ya."
Grasping her firmly by the arm, he pulled her away from the dock and into the crowded streets.
"Spike?"
Steeling himself for screaming and instinctively bringing up his hand to shield his nose, he sighed.
"Yes love?"
"Where's the pavement?"
Frowning, he looked towards where she was pointing. The narrow streets were full to bursting with people running around in tunics, open shirts, and trousers that had gone out of fashion before he got turned.
"Pet," he started cautiously. "It appears that your demon friend transferred us back a little bit."
"Little bit? How little, Spike?"
Christ, she looked gorgeous, her jaw set, fists clenched, whole body radiating power. And this is a good thing?
"Century back, the way I figure. Not quite sure."
"A century," she muttered. "Which would be why I'm in a dress and you're in –" Spike chest, chest of Spike, open shirt, baggy pants…
"Right," he agreed, looking down at himself as well, then checking out her outfit and smiling. "My slayer, we should do this more often. Look mighty fetching in that gown, you do."
"Shut up, Spike," she said with finality.
He shrugged, taking in the sight of her, all flushed and angry with breasts popping out of the tight dress she was wearing. He'd have to remember to thank Carrot later, assuming they ever got out of this place.
"I think we're in a fishing village," he said, inhaling deeply. "Trading port, maybe.
Buffy inhaled as well, chocking on the prominent smell of fish and urine.
"This is like, pirate age!"
He eyed a few of the swaggering men at a tavern entrance, saw the glint of their gold teeth and swords.
"Yeah, think you're right there pet."
~*~
"They be mighty strange to me, George."
The man who'd first spotted them shrugged, watching as the couple made walked along the street.
"Could be. Or, could be just a few random weirdos, mate. Never can tell."
"Still," mused another man. "We probably should…"
George sighed, cracking his knuckles.
"I reckon you're right. Could lose us our heads if he found out we'd seen strange fold and not reported to him."
"Strange man, Jack Sparrow," his friend agreed. "They say that since he got off that island, been touched in the head a bit."
"Pays good money to be kept informed though…we better go. He'll be at the tavern, can get a few drinks while we're there."
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