:: CHAPTER FOUR ::

"What time is it?" Buffy whispered, suddenly aware of the silence outside again.

"How should I bloody know?"

"I don't know – use your vampire senses!"

"Vampire senses?" He asked, in disbelief. She glared at him in a knowing way. "You're joking, right?"

"Sniff the air and stuff…" She trailed off, angrily.

He let out a low growl and she tried to pull away from him. He was far too close. "Don't you have a watch, Slayer?" She pulled a face and wiggled her wrist. "Oh yeah, that's right, I forgot. Too proud to be of use!"

"You know, I could just as easily slide down here and let this rod go into you." He'd forgotten about the metal that was effectively aimed at him.

"Yeah, well I could easily move and let my rod go into you!" They both paused and tried to ignore what was going on. The forced closeness meant that innuendos of any kind were a no-go area.

"We need to get out of here."

"Too bloody right." He muttered under his breath. She moved to tap the wood at the headboard but as she did she felt Spike's hands grab hold of her. She looked down. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to get us out of here."

"By putting your bloody s-self in my face?" He growled. She looked down and realised what he meant.

"Can't you control yourself?" She spat, angrily. "Or do you want to stay here for the rest of your undead life?" He pulled her down and reached above himself, tapping the wood.

"It doesn't seem to thick." He said. "We can break through it easily."

"What about the rods?" She whispered.

"I don't know." He began to smooth his hands down the sides of the crate.

"Spike stop!" She whispered in urgency. He stopped and they remained still for a moment, her breathing falling in the air.

Suddenly, the crate was heaved into the air. They both pushed their hands firmly against the sides and glared around at what they could see. They were flipped in the air, and then they were falling.

"Oh my god! Spike!" Buffy cried in panic. "What do we do?"

"I-I…" He said, frantically trying to break lose.

They landed on something. Something had cushioned their fall to be less extreme, but they were still moving; no longer downwards, but sideways.

Spike was now on top.

He stared down at Buffy. "You alright?" He breathed, raggedly, still pushing against the sides. She coughed but nodded.

"I can't breath." She choked, pushing him back a bit. He could barely move. He shifted his legs and tried to lean to one side. "Thank you."

"We need to find out what's going on." He said, turning to look down at her. Their faces were very close now, almost touching.

"Yes." She said, flattening her hands against his chest. The contact seemed to shoot through them both. "Spike?" She questioned, huskily, but he wasn't paying attention. He was simply watching her lips, hungrily. He made a faint sound of recognition but otherwise did not move.

It was becoming too much for her. If he moved any closer she couldn't be sure whether she wanted to kill him or not.

He moved closer and brushed his lips against hers, breathing in her breath. He pulled back a little, then heard her whimper softly and felt her push herself up towards him. He lowered his head and pressed his lips full against her. To his shock, she did not recoil, but instead deepened the kiss.

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