Spike landed with a loud thud on the ground. The fall knocked all the breath out of him which, even though he technically didn't need to breathe, still wasn't very pleasant. He lay face down on the solid earth and damp grass tickled his nose as he gulped in a lungful of cold air. Tentatively, he stretched out his arms and legs, trying to ascertain whether anything was broken. Satisfied that all he'd have to show for the experience were a few bruises, he pushed himself up onto his knees and took a first proper look at his surroundings.

How original. He thought to himself with a grim chuckle. The cemetery. Spike had to give credit to whoever had done this; kidnapping a Slayer using a magic necklace was a new one to him. But this lost them all their points for inventiveness. Why bother kidnapping a Slayer if you're only going to take her to the cemetery? They could have saved themselves the hassle by waiting for her to go on her nightly patrols.

He opened his mouth to ask Buffy if she was okay, but realised that she wasn't where he thought she was. When they'd been yanked out of the kitchen, he'd been clinging on to her in an almost bone crushing embrace. After he landed outside he just assumed that she'd be lying next to him. But the area all around him was empty save for a few gravestones, and now he came to think about it he realised he hadn't seen her since he'd forced her head into his chest to save her from the flying glass.

In an instant he was on his feet, his eyes probing the shadows. "Buffy!" He cried "Buffy! Slayer! Where are you?" He tried desperately to calm himself down enough to try to sense her heartbeat, but he was finding it near impossible. If she wasn't here, where was she? Images of Buffy being dragged into some kind of hell dimension while he was left behind, useless, in Sunnyhell flashed through his mind. "Buffy!" He screamed it this time, his demonic visage slipping into place.

A low groan came from behind one of the headstones. With an immense effort, he smoothed away the ridges that covered his forehead and retracted his fangs as he hurried to where the noise had come from. By the time he got there Buffy was already sitting up, pressing her hand gingerly to an already healing cut on her cheek. At the sound of Spike's approach she looked up and grinned weakly, her relief palpable.

Spike dropped to his knees at her side and slid his fingers underneath her chin, turning her face towards him. "You alright?" He asked as he examined her. He searched her eyes for any sign that the knock that had made the cut on the cheek had caused any other damage. Finding them as clear and lucid as ever, he moved from her face to the rest of her, running his hands lightly over her body to check for breakages.

"I'm fine. Just a little confused and oozy." She pointed to the cut. "How about you?"

"Confused. What happened?"

Buffy shook her head, her brow creasing slightly as she tried to remember everything. "I know as much as you."

"What was that thing?"

"Just a necklace. I knew I shouldn't put it on but I couldn't stop myself. Hey!" While she was speaking her hand had unconsciously drifted to her throat, only to find that the necklace was missing. "Where's it gone?"

Spike got back to his feet. "I don't know," He said, offering her a hand up which she took gratefully. "But good riddance to it. If it was an assassination attempt it wasn't exactly the deadliest I've ever seen, but it's still bloody annoying. My dinner will be all congealed by the time we get home."

Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Stop complaining. You won't be the one washing the damn thing up."

Spike chuckled and made to pull Buffy into a hug when a voice behind them startled both of them.

"Well," Angel said, leaning casually against one of the ramshackle crypts. "Just what are you two doing?"

"Angel," Buffy smiled, confused to see him there but happy nonetheless. She quickly tried to remember if Willow or Tara or anyone else had mentioned that he would be visiting, but recalled nothing. Then again, Angel wasn't exactly one for announcing when he was going to drop by. He much preferred to slip in and out of town unnoticed in that dreadfully mysterious and cryptic way that he loved so much. "What are you doing here? You didn't tell us you were coming."

She began to move towards him but Spike's sudden iron grip on her arm forced her to stop. "What's the matter?" She whispered, turning towards him.

"Don't." He said, his voice quiet but firm.

"Wh-"

"He's lost it again," He interrupted. "His soul. I can smell the demon."

Buffy whipped around to face Angel. "Is this true?" She asked, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. "Have you lost your soul?"

Angelus grinned at her devilishly. "You should know, lover."

She rolled her eyes, already hardening her heart against him, preparing herself to fight and kill him if she couldn't get to Willow and ask her to perform the restoration spell before he became a real danger. "Alright, who did you get groiny with this time?"

Angelus's eyes became wide with mock hurt. "Just you, lover."

"Hey," Spike snarled. "Only I get groiny with Buffy."

All amusement left Angelus's face in an instant. His eyes narrowed and when he spoke his voice was deadly. "I don't know what you're up to, roller boy, but that better have been a joke."

"I'm not – Wait," Spike broke off, even more confused than he had been a moment before. "What did you just call me?"

"Roller boy." Angelus said loudly and slowly, as if he were talking to a child. "Speaking of which, why aren't you in the chair?"

"Is he talking about what I think he's talking about?" Buffy asked Spike, but Spike ignored her and focussed on Angelus.

"I got out of that years ago." He said.

"I'm sick of these games, child." Angelus growled. "You were in the chair when I left the factory less than an hour ago. Unless you've developed divine powers of healing, you've been keeping secrets from us."

Buffy staggered a few steps backwards and perched herself on top of a headstone, not trusting her legs to hold her up. "God," She muttered, burying her face in her hands. "Tell me this isn't happening."

Spike gave her a grim smile. "I guess whoever sent that necklace isn't as stupid as we thought."