So this is my first Spuffy fanfic XD I love reading them so I thought I would try writing one. Please review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a slavish love of Spuffy.

The door of Spike's crypt swung open with a bang, but he didn't have the strength to check who it was. His entire body was covered in either bruises, blood, cuts, gashes, or all four at once. He couldn't bring himself to move an inch from where he lay on a stone coffin. It wasn't the most comfortable of resting places, but it was better than moving.

"Spike, you're covered in sexy wounds," said a voice, and he rolled his head to peer out of one eye at Buffy Bot. Even if she wasn't the real Buffy, seeing her made him feel a little better. Like she really cared.

"Yeah," he managed weakly, and sat up. "I feel real sexy. Where you been?"

"I fell down and got confused. Willow fixed me. She's gay!" Buffy Bot said happily.

"Will fixed you?" Spike said incredulously. "I thought they'd melt you into scrap."

"They were confused too. Do you want to ravage me now?" Buffy Bot asked, putting a hand on Spike's knee, and smiling brightly. Always, he thought.

"Give us a minute, got some bones need mending," he said tiredly.

"Why did you let that Glory hurt you?" Buffy Bot asked sadly.

"She wanted to know who the key was."

Buffy Bot started for the door with a springy step. "Well I can tell her and then—,"

"No!" Spike yelled, and then coughed from the small exertion. His chest could barely take the strain. "You can't, ever. Glory never finds out."

"Why?"

"'Cuz, Buffy…," he sighed, "the other, not-so-pleasant Buffy, if anything happened to Dawn, it would destroy her. Couldn't live, with her being in that much pain. Let Glory kill me first. Nearly bloody did."

Buffy Bot looked at him sadly, and stepped close. Bending her head, she pressed her lips as gently as she could on his.

Spike wanted to kiss her back, but even his lips were bloody and cut. Despite that, he still felt a frisson of warmth rush through him, just the way he would if it really was Buffy. Almost the way he would. He didn't really know, did he? Seeing as he was beneath her and all.

But suddenly, he realized something was wrong. Not wrong, different. He pulled away, confused.

Buffy Bot stared back at him levelly, the vacant, blank look gone from her eyes. She turned and left the crypt.

Spike fell back onto his cold, stone bed and held his head in his hands. He had kissed Buffy. The real Buffy. More accurately, she had kissed him. That could only mean two things. One, his Buffy Bot had been destroyed. Two, he had a chance with the real Buffy.

Or at least, he would when he regained his strength, and that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

Spike resolved to heal very fast.

"Buffy…no, don't go…mmmpphhh…." Spike rolled over and groaned in unhappiness, then cried out in pain. Awakening with a start, he found himself in his bed, alone, one arm pinned underneath him, causing him great pain. Not to mention there was no Slayer around, leaving or otherwise. That had been a dream.

A very good one—at least it seemed to have been leading to what would have been a good one, until dream-Buffy left him. "Bloody hell," Spike muttered angrily, "even get rejected by Buffy in my dreams."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and ended up falling out of it. "Bloody hell," he said again.

There was a noise from upstairs. "Spike?" a voice called.

Buffy. The real Buffy. Spike arranged himself in a languid position, leaning against the bed. He tried to look well, if that was possible when there wasn't an inch of his body that wasn't an unnatural color. He couldn't even see out of one eye, it was doubtful that he would be up to snogging Buffy to any length. "Down here!" he called back.

Buffy appeared at the top of the stairs. "Feeling any better?"

Spike gave her what he hoped was a seductive, casual smile. "Right as rain. More than half way healed, I'd say. I'll be up an' running any day now."

"Uh huh," Buffy said sarcastically. "Tell me, did you decide that sitting next to your bed would be your idea of a good time, or did you fall out of it?"

He grimaced. She could always see right through him. "I'm stronger already, as I told you before. Now what do you want?"

"What, I can't just come visit you…" she started, then trailed off. No, she couldn't "just visit" Spike! What was she thinking? Spike was not eligible of visitage! He didn't deserve it. Even if he was gorgeous and amazingly sexy with those intense stares and well-defined muscles and…and…and…he didn't deserve visitage!

"Well, well, well. Was that you admitting to the liking of my miserable company?" he asked insufferably. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"No! Just because I do one nice thing for you, come here once to check on you and make sure you didn't somehow kill yourself between yesterday and today, and instead you do what you always do and have to act like a complete pig!" Buffy stopped abruptly and took a deep breath.

"But that just makes beautiful juxtaposition next to you, love," Spike said.

"SHUT UP!"

"Was that what you were doing yesterday? Making sure I wasn't dead? Did you have to touch me in order to do that? Because another kiss would tell you that right away."

The cold glare Buffy gave him was more than answer enough. The slam of his crypt door as she left was even more final.

But Spike knew it wasn't over. He would be back to his old self in a week, and when he was, he would make Buffy realize how much she was repressing when it came to their little talks.