Scavenger Hunt players PLEASE read note at bottom when you have
finished the story.
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The occupants of the ornate lobby looked at each other in
complete disbelief. Ignoring their innate reactions to panic,
they all gazed about the room before them. It had high cathedral
ceilings, and lush décor, including gilded paneling, and velvet
curtains blocking any light from coming in. The front desk
loomed before them, a huge monstrosity of polished cherry wood
with a mirrored top. Everything gleamed like new, though it was
obviously pre-Revolutionary in era.
Giles stared at the glimpse of history before him. **Was this
some sort of spell? A minute ago I was in my flat, and now...I'm
in an inn that could easily date back to Angel's pre-vampire
days.** He looked at the group surrounding him, noting all of
his young charges were there as well as Angel.... and Spike?!?
**What in God's name is HE doing here?**
Buffy looked around her in complete confusion. A moment ago, she
and Willow were drinking wine coolers and starting to dish about
men. They hadn't gotten to either of their IMPORTANT SECRETS,
but they were well on their way when that little firefly of
light... **Oh, no! Pleeeeeease tell me I didn't start some silly
spell by drinking. I'll never do it again, I promise, she
thought glancing worriedly around the room.** Her Slayer sense
pricked up and she located Angel, who gave her one of his gentle
smiles. She smiled back weakly, her mind fleeting to her earlier
daydream about Spike, and her cheeks flushing.
"Buffy, are you okay?" Willow asked, noting her friend's red
face. At Buffy's nod, she cleared her throat. "Well, good,
because if you hadn't noticed, Spike and Drusilla are hanging
out over there in that corner."
"What?" Buffy asked loudly, her face going aflame again. She
looked over where Willow had indicated and groaned. She got up
and went to the desk, banging her head on its shiny surface in
frustration. "Why me? Why me?" she muttered.
Spike relinquished his place holding up the wall, and walked
over to Buffy. "Well, well. What has my least favorite Slayer
done to muck up my life this time?" He looked down at her and
when her eyes met his, he felt a jolt of electricity run through
him. Her breath had sped up along with her heart rate, and his
grin spread. In the barest of whispers, he said, "Something
bothering you, Buffy?"
At the sound of him saying her real name, she gasped. Everyone
turned to look at her, and she backhanded him to save face.
"Spike, I don't know what the hell you and that looney tune are
doing here, and for that matter, I don't even know why WE are
here. So...Get. Out. Of. My. Face."
Giles looked at the two blondes warily, then interrupted. "If I
may..." When the group turned to look at him, he continued. "I
think this may have to do with the prophecy we read earlier.
While this may be completely random and perpetrated by any
number of Buffy's enemies, I think the timing is too
coincidental."
"Great. So you bloody white hats go all Reading Rainbow, and me
an Princess are stuck here...why?" he asked, his voice dripping
with sarcasm.
Buffy's eyes skittered to the vampiress, who was still lurking
in the corner clutching her doll. She seemed agitated, but since
she wasn't doing anything... **Let looney dogs lie, I always
say.** "Well what the hell is this place and what does it have
to do with me and Angel?" she asked impatiently.
"Even better. Some lovey dovey Romeo and Juliet rot," Spike
muttered.
A small man appeared behind the desk and cleared his throat. "Do
you have reservations?"
Cordelia looked at him as if he had three heads. "Duh. Do we
'look' like we're here for the B&B?"
The man clucked his tongue and turned to a book that appeared
out of nowhere. "There are several reservations made, and the
hotel is booked completely. Unless you are some of the parties
listed...you'll have to leave," he replied gravely.
"Good. It's settled then. We'll all go home, and Spike and the
looney can stay here forever," Xander said, rubbing his hands
together. "Now, my good man, if you'll just show me the door..."
"Wait! Did you say a Mr. Spike?"
Spike rolled his eyes. "There's no Mister about it, mate. I'm
Spike; can I help you?" he said, vamping out.
The man tsked again. "No need to be rude. I have your room all
ready. I'm sure the others are part of this weekend's party as
well then. If you could just sign here for your room...I'll get
your keys."
Spike stalked over to the desk and growled. "Let me guess. We're
stuck here until the prophecy's fulfilled? I'm gonna puke if I
have to watch Peaches and Slutty paw each other for a whole
weekend." He leaned over the register to sign, ignoring Buffy
and Angel's threats in the background. His eyes lit up when he
read the room listings. **Now THIS is interesting...**
Pretending to be angry, he pounded his fist on the desk. "What
in the bloody hell is wrong with this thing? The names for my
room should be Spike and Drusilla. Not Spike and the Slayer! Are
you out of your bleedin mind?"
"What? No way! He'll kill her. She won't be able to sleep!"
Angel shouted.
Dru started rocking in the corner, moaning to herself. "Wrong...
it's all wrong... my daddy...my Spike....wrong!" she screeched.
Spike looked at the man. "I have to take care of her. She's
helpless, and I'm the only one who cares. Fix it, NOW." For
emphasis, he grabbed the man's lapels and pulled him face to
face with his demon.
The man sighed, flicking a finger at the vampire, making him fly
across the room and land on a chaise lounge. "The room
arrangements are pre-made and absolutely unchangeable. You will
have to deal with it. This house has enough magick in it to make
sure the wishes of its owners are followed, and I suggest not
tempting them to get angry. Getting angry with me is no help,
either, because I am merely the desk clerk, nothing more,
nothing less."
"And how the bloody hell are we supposed to eat? Not likely we
can snack on the kiddies here without a heavy penalty I
suppose." Spike growled from his landing spot.
"You will find that your needs will be met as the time comes.
You will not even feel the need to hunt; therefore, everyone is
safe in Huntington Manor. You have a big weekend ahead of you,
so I suggest you make you way to your rooms and retire for the
afternoon."
Angel stomped up to the desk, his demon sliding into place. "And
whom, exactly, am I rooming with?" he demanded.
"I have you with a Miss Drusilla. Room 237. Here's your keys,
and take the stairs to the landing...make a right...follow the
numbers from there. Who's next?" he replied, moving on
efficiently.
Angel growled in frustration, and Buffy put her arm on his
comfortingly. "I'll be okay. I don't think even Spike is evil
enough to kill me while I can't fight back. Right, bleach
brain?" she asked, her voice daring him not to agree.
"Oh bloody hell. Right, Slayer. No killing at...moments where I
have the unfair advantage. Scout's honor," he said smiling in a
way that melted her bones.
Somehow, Buffy knew he wasn't just talking about when she was
asleep. And for some reason, it excited her. A lot. Pushing
those thoughts aside, she smiled up at her love. "So grab
yourself a looney and I'll see you later. Okay?"
He nodded, and Drusilla clapped her hands excitedly, frolicking
towards the staircase.
"I think someone must have been a good little girl for Daddy to
come home!" she cried as she followed him.
Spike caught himself just in time to keep from laughing. **It's
been so long since Peaches has had to deal with her. To be a fly
on that wall...** Then his thoughts turned back to his own
predicament. Buffy was giving him death stares from over by the
desk. He sighed and grabbed the keys from the man, waiting for
him to give them instructions.
"Room 230. Up the stairs, take a left, the suite all the way on
the end. Next?"
"Suite?" Buffy exclaimed. "I'm am sooooooo hoping there's a
big
bathtub full of bubbles waiting for me."
She closed her eyes, and the expression on her face almost made
Spike wish he'd been responsible for it. It was one of pure
ecstasy. Shaking his head free of those disturbing thoughts, he
followed the Slayer up the stairs to what surely would be the
end of him.
Buffy whispered in a very low voice. "Try anything and you fit
in an ashtray. Got it?"
"Right. Like I'd want to dirty one finger on your skinny little
body," he muttered.
Buffy's surprised eyes flew up to his. "I meant... I didn't
mean... No blood drinking. No GRR," she finished, trailing
off.
Spike took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "S'what I
meant, Bu-Slayer. No... what you said."
Buffy noticed her body flaring in reaction to the gravelly tone
of his voice and swallowed hard. **What is with me lately? First
I defile my favorite underwear while fighting him, then I
daydream about it during research time, and now I'm just about
ready to jump his sexy undead bones! Did I say sexy? Bad Buffy!
Bad! Bad!** She reached out and opened the door to their room,
her eyes flying open when she saw their surroundings. After her
shock died down, she noted Xander and Cordy taking the next room
over, Giles heading towards Angel's hallway, and Willow and Oz
opening the door between the two. Thinking quickly, she poked
Spike. "Spike?"
"Yeah, luv?" he asked distractedly. For some reason, he felt
compelled to draw a bubble bath in the huge claw footed tub in
the bathroom.
"Can you... go check on Drusilla? I need to talk to Willow for a
little while. Please?"
She made a doe eyed face at him that resembled the pouty one
Drusilla gave him when she wanted something. He rolled his eyes,
and cursed his bloody poofiness. "Sure, Slayer. I'll just... be
gone for awhile. You... do whatever." He stalked out of the
room, fighting the urge to do something stupid, duster flapping
behind him.
Buffy watched, trying to figure out what she was feeling, and
moreover, why she was feeling it. Sighing at the complexity of
her life, she walked over and knocked on Willow's door.