A/N: Thanks for the feedback!

Chapter Two

The Slayer complicated things. William "Spike" Pratt knew this was a fact just as true as his ten fingers and toes. It was a long voyage, and with three of them onboard (and counting, the dark-skinned Geoffrey professed a proclivity for siring) it was only a matter of time before the Slayer discovered them. If that one body didn't give them away, the littering of rat bodies certainly did. He would suggest they clean up after themselves. Spike almost laughed at the thought of vampires tidying up after a kill. He would have scoffed at the idea if it were presented to him before. He was a vampire, after all. Evil creature. Soulless. The big bad.

But then Dru decided to run off to America and he was stuck on this blasted ship with vampires so below him that he had to fight off an urge to snap their necks every moment they were in the same room. They had information on her whereabouts, though, and since torturing them didn't work (he had tried that without much success on one of the others) he had to swallow his frustration and lead them to the States. That was the deal, after all. He gets them to the land of plenty and he gets his girl.

He just had to keep them alive long enough to find her.

The Slayer was very much on Spike's mind as he made his way back to where they had ensconced themselves in the deep recesses of the ship. The other two vampires were back from their hunting. Geoffrey, a large-boned vampire with the mental faculties of a pre-pubescent boy sat against the wall. His latest childe laid beside him, in the final stages of the turn. Penelope, a shrewd petite brunette with the irritation quirk of a running mouth, was sprawled on the other side of the room, and rose swiftly when Spike walked in, descending on him with questions like a hoard of flies on spoiled meat.

"Where have you been? We've been back for ages! Geoffrey has this little thing half turned already and you're just getting back-"

"Find some bells and put 'em around my ankle then," Spike answered irritably. "That way you can always know where I am. Suit you better, love?"

"We need to keep track of each other," Penelope said quickly, one word running into the next. "If one of us is compromised then the entire group is compromised."

"Maybe you should tell you mate over there to stop trying to turn the entire bloody boat, then. I mean, honestly Geoffrey, we're not even here 24 hours and you're turning someone?"

"I wanted a plaything," he answered unapologetically. "It's a long voyage."

Spike gaped at him. The bloke was as mad as Dru.

"It's not my going off on my own that we need to worry about," Spike said, shaking his head. "We have a larger situation at hand."

"What do you mean?" Penelope demanded. "What type of situation?"

"The Slayer is on the ship," Spike said in a low voice. He expected some sort of hushed silence from his shipmates. It was the Slayer, after all. The killer of their kind. Instead, Penelope snorted while Geoffrey continued to poke and prod at his childe.

"The Slayer?" Penelope baited. "On this ship?"

"Yes, that is what I said, isn't it?" Spike answered testily.

"And you knew she was the Slayer how?"

"Oh, maybe the stake in her hand," Spike bit out. "She was down here by herself in all her crenolin and lace. She was patrolling, pet. Hunting for us. Someone left a body out. I reckon she found it."

"It's steerage," Penelope jeered. "No one misses them."

"Yeah, well, dead bodies tend to jar people, regardless of their class," Spike said. "We need to be more careful from now on. Otherwise, we'll lead the Slayer straight to us."

"You hear that Geoffrey?" Penelope called out lightly. "Clean up after yourself, yeah?"

Spike stared at the two of them, unable to understand how they were taking this so lightly. Did they not know what the Slayer was capable of? He had taken on one himself during the Boxer Rebellion. The lady was a hell of a fighter, matching him in strength and agility. He had only won due to an opportune explosion outside. After spending half a day with these two vampires, he was fairly certain that all the explosions in the world couldn't help them if they ever faced the Slayer.

"Are you all very high, or did you not hear me properly?" Spike said. "The mighty killer of our kind is on this ship, and you all are making jokes?"

"It's not the Slayer," Penelope said with an exaggerated eye roll. He fought the urge to gouge both of them clear out. "Might I remind you that this ship departed London. The Slayer is in New York. Everyone knows that."

"Yes, well, she must have had some business abroad because the woman that I just ran into over in steerage was most definitely the Slayer."

Penelope's eyes widened. "You actually interacted with her?"

"Yes."

"And she didn't kill you."

"Yes."

"And you really expect us to believe this is the Slayer?"

Spike had to admit that he found it a bit odd that she hadn't sensed his true nature. It seemed like something that a Slayer would immediately pick up on, yet he had been in her presence for two or three minutes and his demon went undetected.

"Maybe she's new," Spike suggested irritably. "She may have just been called. Regardless, the Slayer is on this boat, and since you are my ticket to Drusilla, I would rather you not get killed. So, clean up after meals. End of story."

Penelope looked displeased, but she didn't press the issue any further. Geoffrey continued to fuss with his childe, paying little attention to the other two vampires. Spike looked from the stewing vampire to the delusional one, and thought to himself that this voyage could not end soon enough.

BBBBB

Buffy went straight to bed when she returned from patrol, but she found herself having difficulty falling asleep. The patrol had been relatively uneventful. She didn't find any other bodies – only a few additional rat carcasses along the way. Her mind kept wandering back to William, though. Just the thought of him brought that tingle to the back of her neck again, and she struggled to identify exactly what was causing it.

Her first thought was that he was a vampire, but usually it was like they were wearing huge blinking lights to her they were so obvious, and he hadn't tried to attack her. In her two years of being the Slayer, she had never met a vampire who didn't eventually show his cards. Sure, sometimes they would tease and lure, but they always showed their true face. They always went in for the bite. The kill. Her and William were alone in the sprawling corridors of the ship, and all he had done was show her the way back to her room.

But then there was that tingle again.

She turned on her side and pressed her cheek against the pillow, closing her eyes. It wouldn't do her any good to dwell about it now. Now, she needed her rest. She would dwell on it tomorrow.

BBBBB

"How was your patrol?" Giles asked, as the two of them prepared for breakfast. Buffy's thoughts went back to the William issue, but she chose to keep that to herself. She had developed her own way to suss out that issue.

"Uneventful," Buffy answered. "I did find myself stepping over a whole bunch of dead rats, though. How about you? Any more dead bodies?"

Giles frowned. "No, although I suppose that's a good thing."

"Yes, one dead body per night is enough for me."

"Factoring in the rats, though, I think it is safe to presume that we are dealing with more than one vampire."

Buffy's grin was saccharine as she chirped, "Isn't that fantastic?"

"Watch your sarcasm, Buffy," Giles said with a slight grin. "You'll land us on another ship to England. As much as I enjoy my home country, I'd like to at least wait a month or so before returning."

"You know, I didn't choose to be the Slayer. I don't see why I have to ascribe to their ridiculous rules. And having someone secretly monitoring my progress? I find that unacceptable."

"Yes, I agree, but the Council has their own way of operating."

"I can't believe they told me that I wasn't developing properly as the Slayer," she huffed. "I dust 5-6 vampires every night back in New York! Try doing that underdeveloped!"

"I told them that I thought you were progressing just fine, Buffy," Giles said in a placating tone. "It's the Council, though. They don't listen to anyone besides themselves."

"I suppose."

"Why don't we have some breakfast," Giles said, putting a consoling arm around her shoulder. "Everything seems better with some coffee and toast."

BBBBB

That night Buffy was back in steerage on patrol. She found a few rat carcasses, but there were no human bodies to be found. As she was wrapping up her patrol she turned the corner and saw a familiar person standing over by the stairway. He hadn't seen her yet, although she noticed that his back stiffened. That was added to the running tally she had amassed in her mind. He clearly sensed her. He was out gallivanting in the corridors deep into the night. Just one last test.

"William?"

He turned at the sound of his name and backed up quickly, hissing at the cross that she held in her hand. He didn't change into gameface, but it was enough for her. She lunged forward, having switched the cross in her hand for a stake. He was faster than she expected, however, and easily darted away from her.

"That's no fair," Spike said, easily dodging a punch. "Jumping on a man like that without warning."

"I can't believe I didn't know what you are," Buffy shot back, all skirts as she spun and unfurled a remarkably effective kick to his midsection.

He stumbled backwards and baited her with, "You're the Slayer and you can't even sense a vampire?"

She answered with a direct punch to his nose.

He wiped the blood dripping onto his upper lip with his sleeve and laughed. "I think I made you mad."

"I'm a damn good Slayer," she shot back, blocking a hit. "You're about to see just how good."

He fielded a few more of her hits and lightly remarked, "Still waiting to see your good moves, love."

They sparred for a few moments until she landed a kick directly between his legs. She watched with satisfaction as his eyes grew wide.

"That, William, is one of my signatures."

She brandished her stake with relish and was about to drive it home when she heard something behind her. The momentary distraction was enough for Spike to shove her away and take off in the opposite direction. Before Buffy could follow him a hand was closing on her shoulder. She turned around to find a uniformed man gazing down at her with a mixture of alarm and worry.

"Miss, is everything alright? Did that man hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Buffy said distractedly, glancing back in the direction that he had run. She wanted to pursue him, but knew that there was no way since she was found. It would have to wait for another night.

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