Four Hundred Days

By PassionFish

Chapter One

"For the last time guys, we're not under a spell and we're not drugged."

Giles regarded his ward and her companion ruefully, wondering what he could have done to have prevented this madness.

"Buffy..." He replaced his newly wiped glasses and sighed, " can't honestly expect us to believe that the four days you've been missing have actually been four hundred and within that time you've managed to acquire this husband."

"What did the demon look like again?" Willow asked, not entirely sure of her friend's sanity.

"Big, green and black. Had a big shiny sword." Came a very masculine response from the seat next to Buffy.

"No body asked you." Xander cut in heatedly.

"Leave off, Xander." Buffy snapped as her husband looked ready to murder the whelp. "Look, I don't know where we were but for the thousandth time I was fighting in Restfield cemetery and then big flash of light I'm in early twentieth century England." Buffy sighed, she'd already explained all this and quite frankly she wanted to collapse into her husband's safe embrace and sleep for a week. They'd all but given up hope of returning home and now she was finally here she hadn't anticipated any problems. Like the fact time seemed to have gone slower in Sunnydale than in Yorkshire.

"Okay Buffy. Just tell us one more time what happened when you arrived." Giles asked soothingly.

"Okay...big flash of light...."


Day One


"What the...ow!" Buffy stumbled over to the soft grass below as her ankle gave way beneath her. Her slayer instincts had been enough to prevent her seriously hurting herself but still falling down a hill with a 5ft11 vampire tumbling after and sometimes on you didn't help matters. With a sigh she absently lifted her skirt and slipped off her trainer and sock.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, perfect! I'm just sitting here on my ass 'cause I like the view!" Buffy replied sarcastically. She tried to get up but wobbled once more and sat back down with a soft curse.

"Blood hell!" He muttered and moved over to her. Swatting her hands away he took her ankle and carefully ran his fingers over the already swelling flesh. "Not broken, probably just sprained."

"Like you'd know." Buffy murmured, defensive due to his caring actions.

"I would." Spike agreed then pressed his thumb into the side of the hollow. Buffy gave a telltale gasp. "Just like I know that feels good."

He leered at her and she snatched her foot away, wincing at the throb of pain the movement brought. Spike reached out and pressed his thumb to a different part of her foot. Buffy's eyes shot up to his in surprise as the pain ebbed away.

"What are you doing?"

"Pressure points on your body. Some feel bad, some feel good..." His forefinger pressed the spot he'd pushed a moment before. "...some feel better!"

Before Buffy could snatch her foot away once more Spike released that point, concentrating on alleviating the pain.

"How do you know that?" Buffy asked, an inflection of anger in her breathy tone.

"Been around two hundred years, you tend to learn a few things."

Buffy nodded slowly, her brain pre-occupied with their current surroundings, "Where are we?"

Spike looked up from her ankle, to which he be latently realised he was paying far too much attention, to the grassy verges and trees that encompassed them. In the distance he could see a crude sort of road. His eyebrows raised a notch at the horse and cart he could see moving in the distance.

"I don't know but going on what were wearing, if memory serves, we're in England."

Buffy looked down at the 1930's long periwinkle blue dress she was attired in then over at Spike who actually looked rather tasty in a sharp black suit. She then frowned at the duster by his side.

"Okay, so we don't know where we are, when we are but I still have my trainers and you still have your duster?"

"Yeah...maybe the wanker who dumped us here thought it'd be nice to leave us with something from home."

"Well, since he left me with you I'm thinking nice didn't really enter the equation."

"Ouch, my heart bleeds." Spike looked over at the prone slayer. "Talking of blood..."

"Hold on, truce, remember?" Buffy put in, uncomfortably aware of the fact that she couldn't feel any stakes on her person.

Spike's mind flashed to the few minutes before when they'd been fighting the demon and had quickly called a truce when it threatened both of them. "Oh, yeah, damn."

With a sigh Spike looked up at the darkish sky and saw that morning was almost here, "Right, come on then." He carefully place down her foot, and with shocking speed replaced her shoe and scooped her off the ground.

"Hey, put me down you Billy Idol-wannabe!" Buffy swatted him on the back of the head as he began to walk.

"Look, pet, sunrise is almost here and as I see it we have to stick together until we can find a way home, yeah? So, seeing as you can't walk we'll move a lot quicker if I carry you, agreed? And since the wanker stole MY look that's technically incorrect."

Buffy scowled at him momentarily. "Why this way?" She asked instead.

"Because I saw a horse and cart head over that hill, and I can smell food that way."

"I hope you mean McDonalds and not happy meals on legs."

He grinned evilly at her and said nothing.