Fic: Fountain of Trouble, PG-13, Buffy/ Supernatural/ Pirates of the Caribbean

[tarlwen.livejournal.com]

Title: A Fountain of Trouble
Author: Tarlwen
Fandoms: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Superatural, Pirates of the Caribbean
Rating:PG-13
Warnings:none
Pairings: slight Spike/Xander
Characters: Spike, Xander, Buffy, Willow, Giles, Sam, Dean, Jack Sparrow
Summary: Sam, Dean, the Scoobies and a pirate with a mission. Will the world be able to cope?
Notes: written for tigriswolf as part of whattheficathon




A Fountain of Trouble

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Um. Sam?" Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother as he gestured at the apparition in front of them. "Something's not working here. You sure you got the right bottle?"

"Dead sure," Sam replied, eyeing the now-empty flask in his hand unhappily. A last, single drop of Holy Water fell to the ground with a perversely loud splosh. Right in front of one slightly wet and very bemused pirate.

"Hm." Dean eyed the pirate again. "He's not smoking." He cocked his head as the pirate opened and closed his mouth a few times. "And his eyes didn't turn black."

"I know." Sam was beginning to sound more and more disappointed. "I noticed."

"So," Dean grinned broadly, "he isn't a demon. Told you he was just some nutjob."

"But the fog." Sam gestured at the harbour, where a thick, grey mist hung low over the waves. It was thickest around a wooden tub that was haphazardly anchored to one of the footbridges. "And the ghost ship."

"Doesn't look like much of a ship to me."

"But there wasn't any wind when the fog came," Sam argued. "And this is the twelfth town it's been to."

"Now," the pirate, who had obviously composed himself, leaned forward and wagged his finger at the two brothers, "If you two gentlemen would care to listen to me for just a few seconds, I could explain it all."

"Even if he's not a demon," Sam continued, completely ignoring the pirate, "he could still be a ghost or a vengeful spirit."

"It's barely past sunset. And he walked right through our salt."

"And very nice salt it was." The pirate tried to push himself between Sam and Dean again. "Very nice salt, indeed. Aren't you two supposed to give the one you're trying to capture at least a little bit of attention? As for me being demonic, which may or may not be true, depending on what Tia Dalma did, you are completely wrong on that account. I think. If you exclude the odd trip to the afterlife." The pirate frowned, obviously thinking about something.

Sam was simply blinking at him with a sort of dumbfounded look, while Dean's gaze seemed to hold something like reluctant admiration.

"And I think I'll just go and leave you two to discuss what ever it is that you were discussing before I so rudely interrupted you."

"Hold it right there, pal!"

The pirate froze, staring directly into the barrel of Dean's gun before giving the two brothers a blinding grin. "Gentlemen, you'll never forget the day on which you," he paused for just a second, "almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow." And with that he was gone.

"Fuck!"

"Where the hell did he go?" Dean turned around a few times, pointing his gun at empty air and mist. "He fucking vanished!"

"Maybe he became part of the mist."

"Sam?"

"Hm?"

"You're cracking. You're definitely cracking up. Are you sure you didn't hit your head when we ran into that strange guy at the cemetery?"

~***~

Shit. Xander crouched deeper into the shadows of the trash can he was hiding behind. Not good. So not good. The apparition had just disappeared. And where the hell had the bleached menace gone to?
"Spike!" he whispered into the fog. Was the damned thing trying to choke him? "Where are you? You'd better get back, 'cause the feds are so with the gr-boom and not at all with the accidentally-stumbling-in."

"Keep your pants on, pet. So the pirate decided to imitate the invisible man. So what?"

"Fuck!" Xander yelped, rubbing his aching elbow. "Can't you lay off the sneaking for once? You made me jump into the trash can!"

"Can't help it if you're skittish, pet," Spike smirked, leering at Xander. "Didn't know you were so keen on jumping into things, though. There's that comfy bed at the hotel if you absolutely have to jump...."

"Ew!" Xander scrunched up his face. "Bad fangboy. No double entendres. Go play with Mr Pointy if you're feeling naughty."

"Shouldn't you be concentrating on something else?"

"Like what?" Xander frowned at Spike, who was leaning against the wall and nonchalantly cleaning his fingernails with a small dagger.

"Like the reason why the Slayer dragged us to this god-forsaken town in the first place."

"Fuck!" Xander almost hit his elbow again as he spun around. "The pirate!" He groaned. "And the feds are gone, too."

"Told ya."

Xander refused to turn around again. He could really hear Spike smirk this time. "Come on, fangboy," he said after a while. "We've got to tell Buffy."

"Who-hooo."

Once again Xander refused to answer the vampire. He did roll his eyes when he was sure that Spike was not looking, though.

~***~

"Xander!" Willow immediately pulled her friend into the direction where Xander knew the bed should be. Right now, however, all he could see was a rather scary conglomeration of books, scrolls and balled-up papers. He winced. Looked like another research war had taken place in his absence. He eyed the almost bed-shaped thing warily. Maybe it was alive? And just waiting for a Xander-shaped snack.

"Giles found a really interesting prophecy in one of the eighteenth century scrolls and get this, it's all about some pirate who has seen the worlds travelling through the mists of time to aide the chosen one in battle when hell threatens to devour the fountain and -"

"Wills!" Xander shoved a few - or rather a lot of - books away and flopped down on the bed. "Breathe. Air, remember? That stuff you need to breathe."

"Should take your own advice sometimes, pet."

"Fangless."

"Xander."

"Really," Spike sniffed disdainfully. "Where's Slutty? Haven't seen hide or stake of her for bloody hours."

"Very funny, fangboy." Xander closed his eye and lay back scratching the skin under his eye-patch, only to jerk up again. "Wait, fountain? What fountain? Why fountain? And which hell-dimension are we talking about anyway?"

"Are you sure you don't have another question to ask?"

"Spike." Xander closed his eye again. "One of these days I'm really gonna stake you."

"Now there's a Freudian Slip if I ever heard one."

"Spike!" Xander glared at the vampire, who was alternately leering and smirking at him. He flushed, glancing sideways at Willow, who was coughing and flushing just as furiously. Great. Just wonderful. He really needed some ibuprofen if they expected him to deal with the bleached menace any longer.

"There's no need to hide your attraction to me behind constant threats, pet," Spike grinned. "It's not working anyway. I don't think you'd like to play it vampire-rough, nummy as the offer may be."

"Do I even want to know what you three are talking about?" A new voice, accompanied by the sound of the door closing, asked.

"Hey, G-man."

"Xander."

"Um, Giles?" Willow said before the watcher could say anything else. "Work now, scolding Xander later? Because, guys, the prophecy says something about hell becoming truly eternal once it is one with the fountain." she squinted at the text. "And if I translated this last bit correctly, then we really don't have much time left and -"

"What last bit?"

Xander chuckled. Trust Giles. The G-man really was predictable. He frowned as he noticed Spike looking at him with a speculative gleam in his eyes. What the hell? And what was taking Buffy so long?

~***~

"This is getting us nowhere."

"Dean, could you just..." Sam trailed off, hands clenching around empty air.

"We should have shot first and sprinkled later," Dean insisted from the bed. "And staring at that laptop won't do us any good now."

"Look, I'm doing what I can, okay?" Sam glared at his brother, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And that's more than can be said for you."

"I am helping," Dean insisted.

"Oh yeah?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm sitting."

"I'm thinking about that prophecy of yours."

"Please do share your thoughts with the lesser beings of this world, oh enlightened one."

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, Sammy."

"Dean."

"Sam."

"Dean!"

"Chosen one could mean you, you know?"

"Um," Sam gestured vaguely around the room. "I'm still here, but I think you have lost me."

"Well, yellow eyes did sorta choose you as his maybe number one soldier. Chosen one."

"I don't see it."

"Good thing you weren't the one thinking about the prophecy then."

"Just forget it."

"Hey!" Dean pushed himself up on his elbows. "Wait! Sam! Where the hell are you going?"

"To get something to drink from the vending machine."

"I wouldn't," Dean started, just as the door slammed shut. "This really sucks," he told the empty room with a sigh. "Totally."

~***~

"And this pirate," Giles asked as soon as Xander had finished his patrol report, "was there anything distinctive about him?"

"Apart from the fact that he couldn't walk a straight line and travels in a wooden bath tub?" Xander snorted. "No, nothing. Nothing unusual about him at all."

"Oi, pet!"

"What?"

"You forgot to tell them about the feds who tried to nick the pirate as soon as he landed."

Dead silence followed Spike's announcement. Finally, Xander sighed. Heavily. "Thank you, Spike."

"Anytime, luv." The vampire flashed him a grin that was mostly teeth and barely anything else. "Anytime."

"Feds?" Willow said finally. "Feds? So not of the good. Because, you know, the last time the government... and I really don't wanna.... Feds?"

"Yes, Xander," Giles interrupted, ignoring Willow's worried babbling. "Do tell us about the federal agents."

"Ah, it was nothing, really." Xander tried to smile placatingly and failed rather spectacularly. "Just, you know, these two FBI guys I ran into at the cemetery turned up at the harbour all of a sudden when the pirate arrived and what's funny, and I mean funny-strange not funny-haha, is that they didn't try to arrest him or something and didn't go with the snatching at all and just poured some water on him - oh, and salt - and started arguing whether he was a demon or a ghost or a spirit and -"

"You ran into federal agents?"

"Oh yes, couldn't really not run into them since they were kinda skulking around the cemetery at sunset and -"

"And your one-eyed wonder stumbled over a shovel," Spike chuckled. "Made one hell of a racket. Could probably have raised the Master all by himself with that infernal banging and cursing."

"Thank you so much, fangboy."

"As I said, nummy. Anytime."

"Spike," Giles frowned. "Please come down from that windowsill. Or at least take your boots off."

"Hey guys. You still trying to get the vamp housebroken?"

"If it isn't the slutty Slayer."

"Oh, stop growling, Spike." Buffy kicked the door shut and made a beeline for the nearest can of soda. "Mr Pointy didn't get any action tonight. He might remember you, if you don't behave."

"I'd rather let the whelp have at me," Spike muttered to himself, drawing his still booted feet onto the windowsill and lighting a cigarette.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"So," Buffy tossed the empty can aside, "has anyone by any chance found out who the cute guy in the black suit three doors down is?"

Again, all conversation died and instant death.

"Guess that means no," Buffy muttered, nudging Xander until he finally relinquished a bit of his corner of the bed. "Pity," she yawned. "Might have been fun to ask him out once we have this new apocalypse thing taken care off."

"That...." Xander shook his head, "was just wrong. On so many levels."

"What?" Buffy looked more than ready to pout. "Am I not allowed to date anymore? I'm over Riley, you know."

"And it's not nearly half as wrong as Spike coming on to Xander," Willow added, eeping as Buffy launched herself at the vampire with a growl that would have done any demon proud.

"Buffy! Spike! Please stop it, really." Xander shook his head. "Giles, say something! Make Buffy put the stake away. And Spike, for heaven's sake, stop hissing at Buffy. You know she doesn't like it and you sound like a cat in heat and.... ew. And I so didn't need that mental image."

"Buffy, please listen to Xander and put the stake away," Giles sighed and began cleaning his glasses. "The powers must have had a reason to send him back and I doubt that having you kill him was their purpose."

“At least they sent him back chipped.”

"I do not sound like a cat in heat." Spike continued to glare down at Buffy from the wardrobe he had jumped onto. "And I'm not coming down as long as she keeps waving that thing around."

"Stop. It." Xander pinched the bridge of his nose. "Buffy, don't let Spike rile you up, you know it amuses him. I'm going to get something to drink or some crisps or something and I fully expect all stakes to be out of sight and all vampires back on solid ground when I come back." He turned on his heel and marched out, not giving the others a chance to reply.

Only when he had closed the door behind him did he allow the tension to seep out if his body. His heart was racing as though he had just run a marathon. No matter how used he had become to fighting and slaying evil, he still hated any kind of fight that did not invite some ancient harbinger of doom or something. And he had so not just thought that. He was beginning to sound like Giles. In his thoughts. Somehow that was even worse than the recent change in Spike's behaviour.

~***~

Damn. Sam shook his head, desperately trying to clean it. Damn Dean. Damn Dean and his strange ideas. He shuddered. But what if there really was a possibility of him being the chosen one? He had to know the rest of the prophecy to be really sure, but it was written in what he thought was ancient Sumerian, and so far he had not managed to find someone capable of translating it. What -

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking up. "You!"

"Uh, sorry here, too, Mr Federal Agent," the young man they had run in earlier said, taking a step back. "I so didn't mean to run into you, it's just, I was sort of preoccupied and, oh, did you notice that I tend to ramble when I'm nervous?" He blinked a few times, smiling nervously again. Sam just blinked back. He was still trying to get that sentences disentangled. It had to make sense somehow.

"Anyway," the young man continued, "I think I'll just shut up now."

Well. Sam frowned. Why had he not noticed that the guy was wearing an eye-patch when he had seen him earlier? He was supposed to notice things like that. And just what had he been doing at the cemetery? Come to think of it, Sam almost could have sworn that he had seen the young man at the harbour as well.

"No, I'm sorry," he said, forcing himself to smile warmly. "I wasn't looking where I was going, either. Really should have. So, uh, are you from around here or..."

"Oh, no. No. Just here visiting friends, um, that is, we wanted to visit some friends but they weren't home, that's why we're staying here at the hotel instead of... um."

"Ah." Sam smiled. "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Xander." The one-eyed guy offered him his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise." Sam was surprised at how firm the other man's grip was. Yet another inconsistency. Xander was quickly turning into a rather interesting puzzle. "So where were you going before we ran into each other?"

"Uh...vending machine. Drink. Sorry." Xander shook his head. "Two of my friends actually sort of had a fight because of me and I'm still, well..." He trailed off.

"I see." Sam nodded. So he and Dean had not been the only ones fighting. Or sort of fighting. "I think my brother and I sort of did what your friends did. I need to get out for a bit. There's a bar a few streets away. How about a real drink?"

"Sounds great." Xander gave him a brilliant grin. "Let's go."

~***~

It only took about ten metres for Xander to start panicking. What the fuck was he doing? The others were expecting him back. And soon, at that. Willow was still kinda jittery whenever he disappeared without prior notice, and Buffy would probably go out and stake something if she thought that he might be in danger. Fuck. He glanced at Sam from under lowered lashes. Nope, no chance of slipping away quietly. Sam was watching him right back. Every fucking second. Damn. What was he thinking, going off with someone who not only lied about what he was doing, but was also very probably dangerous? Very dangerous. Maybe even connected to that whole apocalypse thing.

He sighed, closing the distance between himself and Sam with a few quick steps. Better to keep Sam on his good side and be ready for everything. No FBI agent was that young. And working together with his own brother. And just happened to be haunting cemeteries at sunset. Not unless he was hunting something. Xander shuddered. Or someone.

~***~

Captain Jack Sparrow was doing exactly what everyone who had ever known him believed to be impossible. He was sitting still. Not moving. It was even impossible to tell at first glance whether he was actually breathing or not. After disappearing into the mist, he had somehow managed to sort of accidentally stagger into the cemetery. The compass was a strange thing indeed. At first, it had led him into exactly the same direction the map he had stolen from Barbossa had, but then, after about three or four days in the fog Tia Dalma had summoned, everything had changed. The compass was suddenly changing the direction it was pointing into. Repeatedly. Without any pattern or apparent rhyme or reason to it.

And that was exactly the reason why Jack was sitting still.

Because the compass had not even wavered a bit for the last three hours. At all. Someone had been moving his fountain of youth. And for some reason the same someone had obviously stopped now. He knew that the fountain was somewhere in this town, all he had to do now was wait. He needed to know who he was going to steal from. And a plan, he definitely needed a plan. Maybe. Jack narrowed his eyes as the compass needle seemed to shudder. Interesting. The fountain had to be close. Extremely so. But why a cemetery?

~***~

“Cheers.” Sam grinned at Xander, raising his glass. “Let’s hope that the evening will get better.”

Xander nodded, returning the salute. He needed out. Fast. Or maybe he needed to stay. To keep the supposed fed from noticing the others. Maybe that was the best thing he could do now.

“Ugh!” He sputtered, shakily putting the glass down. “What the hell is that?”

“Whatever passes as vodka around here, I guess.” Sam shrugged, taking a cautious sip from his own glass before chuckling. “At least mine’s got coke in it. I think.” He eyed the glass critically. “Or maybe they just put some food colouring in.”

“So,” Xander straightened his shoulders, “mind telling me why your brother – assuming that he is your brother, of course – and you are pretending to be feds?” He grinned, hiding behind his glass as Sam coughed and sputtered helplessly.

“What,” the other man coughed agai, “what makes you think we aren’t FBI agents?”

“Duh.” Xander shook his head. “Obvious much? You sneak around cemeteries at sunset, which is spending the rush hour at vampire central. Usually,” he amended. “And then you stumble through a fog, which was so not natural, and sprinkle ghostly pirates with Holy Water and salt. So not FBI agents.”
He eyed Sam, who was turning a rather interesting shade of pink, critically. “Unless you guys are Mulder and Scully reincarnated or something. Not that I’m trying to say that you or your brother look like Scully or anything, because, really, Scully is hot and you two are, well…” He cleared his throat. “So. Been in the slaying business long?”

“Slaying?”

“Yeah, slaying.” Xander nodded emphatically. “You know, the hunting down and disposing of evil and stuff? The staking of vampires? Slaying of demons? Stopping of apocalypses, that sort of thing?”

“Apocalypses?” Sam’s eyes widened. “There’s actually a plural for that?”

“Needs to be, what with one of them always happening on some hellmouth or other.”

“Hellmouth?”

“Yeah, hellmouth.” Xander frowned. “You guys are in the slaying business, right?”

“Well.” Sam finally put the glass down and took a pack of hankies from his pocket. “We do hunt vampires and werewolves and the like.”

“So how can you not know what a hellmouth is?”

~***~

Spike growled, sniffing loudly. Xander had definitely been here. The air still smelled of him. He stared balefully at the door of the bar. What the hell was Xander doing in a bar? He sniffed again. And what the hell had made Xander go in there with one of the feds of all people? The whelp really had all the rationality and self-preservation instinct of a depressed lemming. Time to rescue the whelp.

~***~

“Uh, Xander?” Sam asked, looking at the guy that was towering over the oblivious younger man. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Who?” Xander turned. “Spike! How did you find me?”

“Simple.” Spike nodded coldly at Sam and pulled up a chair. “I just asked if someone had seen the colour-blind guy.”

“Colour….” Xander looked down at his shirt. “Are you insulting my fashion sense again?”

Spike snorted. “You’d need to have on first for me to insult it. So who’s your friend?”

“Um. Spike, Sam. Sam, Spike.“ Xander waved a hand back and forth between the two. “Sam and his brother are hunters.”

“Hunters?”

“Sort of like Slayers without the supernatural powers and girly bits.”

“I see.” Spike barely managed to keep himself from grinning. “And what are they hunting here?”

“Um.” Xander blinked a few times and then turned back to Sam. “Actually, I haven’t asked him that yet.”

~***~

“But are you sure that they really mean the fountain of youth?” Buffy asked again. “I mean it’s not exactly impressive, isn’t it? I thought this was supposed to be our usual hell-on-earth spiel.”

“It is, totally is.” Willow pointed at the text. “See? If a demon manages to absorb the fountain’s power, it will gain control over life and death. Not good. So not good. It says so right here. Hellgod will gain incredible power, end of world, hell, pain, suffering and general chaos will ensue. See?”

“Well.” Giles sat down on the edge off the bed, putting the scroll he had been holding aside. “That’s not the exact wording, of course, but it sums it up rather nicely.”

“So what are we doing to find that fountain?”

“We’ll have to check all the fountains in the city.”

“And we’re only thinking of this now because?”

“Um, I really don’t wanna interrupt your next fight or something,” Willow smiled nervously at Giles and Buffy, “but are we actually sure that we are even looking for a fountain at all? I mean isn’t fountain of youth sort of like a phrase? It could be anything.”

“Great.” Buffy threw her hands into the air. “We have abso-fucking-lutely no clue at all.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that negatively…” Giles sort of trailed off as Buffy threw him a black look. “We are rather unsure about where to start looking, yes.”

“I’m going out to slay something,” Buffy said resignedly. “Maybe my vamp-dar works with fountains or metaphorical fountains or whatevers as well.”

“Um, Buff?” Willow asked after a while. “Didn’t you actually want to, you know, go through the door?”

“I’m back!” Xander announced, slipping past Buffy and into the room. “Guys, this is Sam.” He gestured back towards Buffy and the door. “He and his brother are vampire hunters. And guess what?”

“Vampire hunters? Great!” Buffy grinned. “Does that mean they have come to stake Spike?”

“There will be no stakeage,” Xander said, stepping between Buffy and Spike. “Sam and Dean are here because of the fountain prophecy.”

“Oh, that.” Buffy sounded quite disappointed. “Do they know where it is?”

“Do we know where what is?”

“The fountain of youth,” Sam said, only to freeze. “Dean?”

“Yes, Dean.” The other hunter stepped into the room. “You and your new friends are rather loud. Who are they?”

“Um.” Sam looked around the room and finally pointed at the two people he knew. “Xander and Spike.”

“And the rest?” Dean asked, closing the door behind him. “And did you really tell them that we are vampire hunters?”

“Yes?”

“Sam.”

“Dean.”

“Oh no,” Xander interrupted them. “You’re so not going to do the Sam-Dean thing. I know how that can take. And we really have other things to worry about.”

“First intelligent thing you’ve said today, whelp.”

“Why, thank you, Spike,” Xander said sweetly. “Why don’t you go hide on your wardrobe before I sic Buffy on you? You’re beginning to irritate me.”

“Aw, nummy, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Over your dead body. Um, wait.” Xander took a few steps back as Spike slowly advanced on him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You meant to say that you wanted to care.”

“Only for your grave.”

“Promise?” Spike grinned. “I’d love to see what you’d do with the crypt.”

“Spike, Xander!” Giles glared at them. “As amusing as your antics are on occasion, could we please get back to the matter at hand? We have to find the fountain of youth.”

“You mean the tree,” Sam said, shrugging as all eyes suddenly turned towards him. “The fountain of youth is a tree. At least according to Dad’s notebook. It’s actually supposed to be somewhere in South America.”

“Interesting.” Giles started cleaning his glasses again, making sure to glare at Spike and Xander in regular intervals. Just for good measure. “So someone must have moved it.”

“And if they moved it by magic, then I can trace the spell,” Willow finished, beaming broadly. “We’ve got them!”

“Well, it would seem so.” Giles nodded. “Could you do the tracking spell now? In the meantime I’ll,” he nodded at Sam and Dean, “have a look at their materials and the notebook. If they don’t mind.”

~***~

In the end, it all happened rather quickly. Or at least most of it. And things seemed to be going well. At least until they had managed to find the entrance to the secret cave under the cemetery and the demon, who had managed to get his hands on the fountain of youth. Or rather tree of youth.

“Um.” Xander looked around the cave and then back towards the reddish, horned creature that was standing in front of the tree and growling at them. “Is anyone else bothered by the lack of evil minions? I mean, they should have been coming out of the tunnels and trying to kill us by now, shouldn’t they?”

“I know,” Buffy said unhappily. “But I don’t really mind as long as they continue to stay away.”

“What exactly is that?” Sam asked. “It looks like nothing we’ve ever hunted before.”

“Guys, meet demon,” Buffy gestured at the snarling creature. “Don’t know which hell-dimension exactly he is from, though.”

“Shouldn’t he be talking and gloating by now?” Willow asked. “I mean, they usually do that.”

“They do?” Dean turned, raising an eyebrow at the creature. “Funny. Ours never did that.”

“Wait!” Xander blinked. “You shot him!”

“Well, duh.” Dean pointed his rifle towards the tree. “Demon.” He glanced briefly at Sam. “Or hellgod. Or whatever.”

“He shot him! And the demon went poof! Black smoke!” Xander turned to Giles. “Why have we been fighting them with swords and axes and stuff all the time? He shot him!”

“Um.” Giles said, blinking. “That was interesting.”

“Yes, but was that all?” Buffy slowly circled the tree. “Are we sure he’s dead?”

“Oh, he’s quite dead,” Dean assured her. He patted his rifle. “Works every time.”

“He can’t be dead.”

“Willow,” Xander groaned. “So not what I wanted to be hear.”

“But the pirate,” Willow insisted, “the prophecy said that a pirate would appear and –“

“Thank you all for leading him right to the tree.”

“Pirate!”

“I think we noticed without you telling us, whelp.”

“Yes, but… Pirate! With sword and everything.”

“Quite,” Jack agreed. “Unfortunately I can’t stay to enjoy your hospitality. The tree and I have somewhere to go.” He grinned at them, drawing his hat. “The sea has been looking for this tree for quite some time. Unfortunately she had to wait for someone to move it before she could do something to get it back. The Aztecs hid it from her with quite a lot of spells. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he bowed again, “the sea does not like to be kept waiting.”

In less than a second, the cave was filled with the same thick fog that had been hanging over the harbour all evening. And as a sudden bout of wind drove the fog apart, both the pirate and the tree were gone.

“So, ah,” Buffy cleared her throat and edged closer to Dean. “Now that the demon and the tree and the danger is are gone… What exactly did you load that gun with?”

“Spike!”

“Sorry, whelp.” The vampire did not sound the least bit sorry. “You seemed to be in shock. I just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”

“By kissing me?!?”

Sam sighed, looked at Buffy and Dean, who were discussing the pros and cons of medieval and ancient weaponry, at Willow, who was trying to keep Xander and Mr Pointy from getting to Spike, and exchanged a commiserating look with Giles.

He had the feeling that his life had just become a hell of a lot more difficult.

The End