Setting: Immediately after Intervention-what should have happened!
Disclaimers: I once asked Joss if he would pay me to write fanfic based on his ME characters. He just kinda smiled and backed away slowly...strange.
Feedback: I'm a newbie to the writing, so any kind word would probably keep me from crumbling into a pathetic mess of a failure. And any not so kind words will help me get more kind words later, so all is appreciated!
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"What you did for Dawn and for me...that was real. And I won't forget it."
The line kept running through Spike's head. Along with the kiss. He knew it didn't mean what he desperately wanted it to mean. She didn't suddenly realize her love for him. She didn't return the feelings he had for her. The kiss was just...a reward of sorts. But it meant more. He knew that she'd no longer look at him with utter disgust and wish him off the planet. He was in her trust again. And that was more than he had hoped for after what happened with Buffy and Dru in the cave.
He tried to recapture the feeling of her soft lips on his. They had barely touched, and in that gentle moment, he knew it was the real Buffy. He had been wrong. The bot was nice. Very nice. But it wasn't better than the real thing. He got more emotional joy out of that solitary kiss than the whole day he had with the bot. That kiss...her lips...he tried hard to remember the feel of them.but all he could feel was the damage Glory had done to him. His face was mush and hurt like hell. He tried to get off the tomb he was sitting on, but the effort was too much. His whole body was screaming. Ribs, legs, face, chest.there wasn't really much of him that didn't hurt. He fell back on the tomb and before he slipped out of consciousness, he really wished he could reach his bourbon.
Buffy sat on a headstone, a good distance from Spike's crypt. She wondered why he had done it. Why he risked his life...endured so much pain. For her. For her sister. It couldn't be love, she was sure of that. She had seen enough from Spike in the past to know he was evil, unable to love except in the freaky way that vampires cling to each other. The way Angel had talked about being with Darla when he didn't have a soul. Angel said he didn't, couldn't love until he got his soul back. Actually, he didn't love until he met her. So she had it on good authority that what Spike thought he was feeling wasn't love. But what was it? If he had told Glory about Dawn, and she let him go, Buffy would have dusted him quick. That was probably why he didn't say anything to Glory. He'd rather withstand a little torture than be killed. But it wasn't just a little torture...and he was well on his way to being killed anyway. And he said... "Anything happened to Dawn, it'd destroy her. I couldn't live, her bein' in so much pain." He said it in such a way, with such a soft, sincere voice that she didn't doubt it at all when it was said. That's why she kissed him. Part of Buffy was so disgusted that she had done it. But he looked so... sad and hurt and vulnerable. And she knew that he had done it all for her, so she gave him a little kiss. She hoped it wasn't something that he mistook for affection. She wasn't entirely sure what it was, but something hit her at the moment he spoke with such honesty. 'Give him something.he deserves a touch of kindness. He wants you. He had the bot made so he could be with you, in some small way. He didn't betray your sister, and now his pain is for you. He's weak and now he's alone...give him something...something of you.' So she kissed him...softly, so his broken face wouldn't hurt more. And then he realized it was her...his face echoed the confusion in her head. She left him, but not without letting him know that things had changed between them.
And now, sitting on the headstone, she still wasn't sure what had changed between them. But the revulsion towards him of the last week was gone. She knew she could count on him, and with Glory in town, she needed everyone she could get. She got up slowly, noticing the sun was going down. As she walked toward home, she chuckled a bit at the large, long shadow she cast in front of her. If Glory had made her realize anything, it was that she was not as big and tough as she thought she was. When it came to dealing with Glory, Buffy was like her shadow: a big, tough illusion.
When she was a couple of blocks from Spike's place, something made her freeze in her tracks. Xander said that Glory's minions had grabbed Spike from his crypt. And she and the Scoobies had just dropped him right back there. To get snatched again. And he was in no shape to be fighting anyone, much less a god. Glory hadn't come for him yet, but what was to stop her? She didn't seem like a god who liked being mocked. And what's more scornful than a weak vampire breaking from a god's grasp? Buffy didn't wait around to come up with an answer. She turned around and headed back to Spike, with one detour.
"Spike. SPIKE! Wake up!" Buffy yelled as she shook the body that could pass for a corpse.
Spike fazed back into consciousness and opened his good eye.
"Buffy? What're you doing here? Can't let the undead rest in peace?" As Spike said this, he chuckled a bit at the joke. Buffy didn't laugh, she just started tugging at his arms to get him to sit up.
"Look, Glory's minions found you here in the first place. I don't think even this would be a challenge for them."
"Easy on the parts there, Slayer. Not exactly a hundred percent here. What's your plan?" Spike was sitting up now and noticing the seriousness of Buffy's look.
She hesitated a moment before saying, "My place. I'll take you to my place. But you stay in the basement until you're better. And the others.don't find out about this. They'd think I was crazy, which I probably am. But you're in this mess because of me and Dawn, so I figure the least I can do is help you get better."
Spike smiled at her, or what passed for a smile with his face in its battered condition. He looked at her for a long moment. A moment so long that it made Buffy uncomfortable.
"What are you staring at? Let's go! The sun's down, so if you can walk, we should be fine," Buffy said as she walked to Spike's refrigerator and collected all of the blood that was in there. She grabbed a duffel bag lying on the floor and put the blood in there, along with the brown paper bag she had brought.
Spike slid slowly off the tomb saying, "Well...problem is Slayer, I can't walk so well. I think that chippie mucked up my knee.or maybe that was when I fell into the elevator shaft...don't really remember.".. Buffy's eyebrows went up and she said, "So what, you want me to carry you? Just keep up with me the best you can." With that, she started out the door, duffel bag in hand.
Spike gave her a big smile that she never saw. 'That's my girl,' he thought, 'no pity, even in mercy.'
Spike limped slowly behind Buffy, more than once enjoying the view of her leather pants reflected in the twilight. Buffy stopped and turned with a sigh, "Gee Spike, the sun just set. At this rate, we might reach my house by the time it rises again."
Spike loved this side of the Slayer. It's what he missed in the bot, but thought he could overlook. 'No,' he realized, 'there's no substitute for attitude in leather.' He reached her just as she put her hands on her hips and gave another exasperated sigh. 'If I were a stronger man, Slayer...what I wouldn't do to you.' He knew he wouldn't do anything to her, except be grateful to be in her good graces again. But a guy could dream.
Without a word she started walking again, but she sympathetically slowed her pace, to keep with his hobbling time.
"Whatcha got in the bag? Besides the blood you stole from me?"
"Uh, right.I've recently taken up drinking blood as a hobby," she snapped at him.
"Ok, so the blood's for me. What else ya got in there? Any booze?" Spike looked hopefully at Buffy.
"You wish. I have some supplies. Some medical stuff. To patch you up with. Just what I could find at the 7-11."
"Ah...right. Don't suppose you got me a slurpee? Or one of those great long sticks of meat they have?"
"That would be jerky, and no. But I can put some ice and blood in a blender and make you a plasma slurpee."
Spike shuddered at the idea of ice-cold blood and made a fake retching sound. Buffy laughed at him. Spike smiled at the sound of her laughter-he hadn't heard it in a long time. Buffy noticed him smiling at her and shyly looked away. They walked, slowly, the rest of the way to Buffy's house in a strangely comfortable silence.
As soon as they reached her house, Buffy sent Spike to the basement immediately. He had taken the re-invite with a half-smile. Inside he counted it as a small victory. But they both knew it was much more. He was in her life again. For good or for bad. As she walked to the phone, she could hear him laboring painfully down the steps. She wondered for a moment if she should help him, but then shook that thought away when she heard him yell, "Summers! Your basement is a rat hole! No self-respecting vamp would be caught dusted here!"
Buffy smiled as she called back to him, "Well, it's a good thing you're not self-respecting. And you live with corpses, so I don't want to hear another word!"
She picked up the phone and dialed. "Giles, it's me. Can you bring Dawn home?...Yeah, I talked to Spike...No, he didn't tell Glory anything...I can just tell. He thought I was the robot. He wasn't lying...No, I'm sure of it...Ok, thanks, Giles."
As Buffy hung up the phone, she could hear a racket in the basement. "Spike! What are you doing?" She picked up the duffel bag and started down the stairs.
"Just trying to make myself comfortable, luv." Spike was trying, with much difficulty, to pull out an old sleeping bag from a box. Buffy was standing at the bottom of the steps when he noticed her looking at him strangely. "What? What're you lookin' at?"
"We have a cot...over there in the corner. Might be more comfortable than the sleeping bag."
"Oh...right. That'll work too." Spike hobbled to the corner and drug the cot into the middle of the small room. With a sigh, he sat down and stretched out his injured leg.
"Ok, look. I'm going to help dress your...wounds, but-"
"--Sexy wounds?" Spike interrupted with a smile. His smile faded when he saw that Buffy didn't really want to be reminded of that scene. Her pretending to be the bot, the kiss...he wasn't sure what exactly it was that made her uncomfortable.
"BUT," she continued, "you have to cooperate and not be a big baby. And yeah, I'm going to be touching your...body...but only in a wound-bandaging sense, so don't get any ideas."
"Hmm...what kind of ideas would a Big Bad like me ever get about a supple, young girl touching my...body?" Spike gave his best attempt at an evil grin before Buffy grabbed him by the hair. "OWWW!"
"Yeah, exactly. Those ideas you're having right now...knock it off." She gave his head a final little shake before letting him go.
Spike rubbed his head and said, "Already with the rough stuff, then? 'Fraid I'm no match for you...yet," he raised his eyebrow at her.
She shot him a look that said death, and he put up his hands in supplication. "Alright, alright. You win. No naughty thoughts for Spike. I'll think of...puppy dogs...the circus.a beautiful sunrise...Ah, who am I kidding, I hate all those things," Spike sighed in resignation.
"I don't care what you think about as long as it's not...disgusting," Buffy said as she pulled out supplies from the duffel bag.
Spike cocked his head and got a barely perceptible wounded look. "Not disgusting. Never disgusting, luv." His look and words made Buffy momentarily uncomfortable. She was unable to respond with a retort that she felt he deserved.
"Look, Giles is bringing Dawn home soon. I don't want her to know you're here, so keep it quiet, ok?" Buffy started to clean the wounds on Spike's forehead as she spoke.
Spike flinched at the burn of the alcohol she used to clean his gashes.
"Baby."
"I'm the Big Bad, and you'll do well to remember that," Spike declared with some indignation.
"You're the Big BABY, is what you are," Buffy chuckled.
"Don't know why you're makin' such a fuss anyway. Not like any of this..cleaning, bandages, whatnot, does *me* any good. I'll heal just fine without. I don't get infections, ya know."
"Well...it does *me* some good. Relieves some of my guilt over this whole...Glory-treating-you-like-a-punching-bag deal."
Spike smiled sarcastically at this. "Well, Slayer, as long as it makes *you* feel better, carry on."
"Hey, fine. I guess you don't want me *touching* your *body*," she said as she started to put away the supplies.
"Hey now, I didn't say stop! Just...messin' with ya a bit. Kinda my job, ya know? Not much else I can do to you right now anyway. No, I take that back...there's plenty I could do to you..." Spike retrieved his mischievous smile.
"What did I say about those thoughts? And the not thinking them??"
"Right...sorry, Slayer. Please...continue touching my body while I think of wholesome things," Spike closed his eyes, mocking deep thought.
"I give up! I don't know why I even try!" Buffy said exasperatedly as she threw down the cloth she was using. Just then she heard the front door open.
"BUFFY?" Dawn called from upstairs.
Buffy jumped a bit and looked at Spike with a sternness that he loved. "Not a sound, or I won't even bother to clean up your dust when I'm done with you."
Spike smiled at her faux threat, then nodded in acquiescence.
By the time Buffy reached the basement door, Dawn was looking all around for her.
"Hey, here I am. Just down in the basement. Doing..basement-y stuff," she tried to sound chipper and convincing.
"Ooook. Giles said to tell you hi. He said he was expecting a call from the Watcher's Council, so he had to go home."
"Oh...alright. So um...I should make dinner." Buffy headed to the kitchen.
"Xander ordered pizza for everyone. We waited for you."
"I know...I just had to...," Buffy searched for a convincing answer.
"To make sure Spike was ok?" Dawn finished.
"Spike? Oh...yeah. I made sure he was...ok."
"Giles told us that you said he didn't tell Glory about me. And that he looked really...bad. Is he going to be alright?"
"Yeah...he'll be fine. Vampires are resilient, ya know? He'll bounce right back in no time and be lurking outside our house before you know it!" Buffy tried for cheerful, but only achieved uncertain optimism.
"Ok. You're not still mad at him, are you? I mean, I know he, like, chained you up and stuff...but..." Dawn trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish.
Buffy completed her thought. "But he did something very nice for us today. Something he didn't have to do. Something I never imagined he would do...No, I'm not mad at him anymore. But he's still a vampire, Dawn. We can't afford to forget that. Everything bad in Angel was because he was a vampire. We can't just let our guard down because Spike did something nice for us," Buffy was contemplating heavily her words.
"He's got a chip! He can't hurt anyone. He got tortured so Glory wouldn't find me. What more do you need?" Dawn was stunned at her sister's callousness. Buffy couldn't find a response.
"I've got a lot of homework to catch up on. Then I'm going to bed." Dawn said coldly as she huffed upstairs.
"Dawn!" Buffy called after her, to no avail. Buffy sighed and started towards the living room when she remembered her guest in the basement.
She found Spike as she had left him, sitting quietly on the cot. He looked up at her and asked, "All well with the Summers sisters?"
"Everything's fine. Let's just get this finished," Buffy said harshly as she started again with cleaning his wounds.
"What's wrong, pet?" Spike asked quietly.
The weight of his words hit Buffy all at once. She stared at him blankly at first, then stood up as her eyes welled up with tears. Her entire body tensed and this took Spike by surprise. He leaned away from her, unsure of what to expect.
"What's wrong? What's WRONG?? My mother's dead, Spike. And if that's not enough, there is a crazy hell-god looking to take my sister from me too. And for the first time in my life, I can't fight the enemy and save the world. She's too strong. I can't fight a god! So if Glory doesn't kill me first, I'm going to have to live in a miserable world without my mom and my sister, and everyone will just expect me to carry on with my slayer duties because I'm supposed to be strong enough to handle whatever life throws at me. Well, I'm NOT. And I CAN'T!" With this, Buffy crumbled to the floor just in front of Spike, her head in her hands, sobbing.
Spike was taken aback for a long moment, hesitant to move. Then he reached out his hand to touch her shoulder. She didn't respond. Spike then slowly slid off the cot onto the ground beside Buffy, so that his legs were on either side of her huddled form. He cautiously put his arms around her, slowly drawing her to him. Buffy seemed not to notice, still sobbing into her hands.
"Shhh...shhh, pet. It's alright...Everything's going to be alright," Spike tried reassuring her, not entirely sure she could hear him, the state she was in.
They remained like that for a few minutes: Buffy, head in her hands, Spike, holding her gently, hoping to give her a bit of comfort before she realized who was embracing her.
When Buffy came out of it, she didn't push him away. She simply lifted her head, wiped her tears away, and slowly got up. Spike released her as she moved away, wondering what he should do next, if anything.
Buffy looked down at him and tried for a chuckle, "Let's talk about something else, huh? How about those dirty thoughts you were having about me?"
Spike smiled weakly at her remark and slowly lifted himself back onto the cot.
Buffy restarted her task, bandaging Spike's face. They didn't talk for a few minutes, Buffy keeping herself busy, Spike off in thought.
"Take off your shirt," Buffy demanded.
"What?" Spike was yanked back into reality.
"Your shirt. You have some cuts on your chest and stomach. I want to clean those up too."
"Ah, right. Ok," Spike slowly and with much pain, lifted his shirt over his head. Buffy could see him struggling, so she helped him pull it off.
"Oww...what is THAT from?" Buffy asked, pointing at the round wound on his chest.
Spike looked down at what she was pointing at, "Oh, that. That would be where the skank poked her finger into me. Dug around a bit. Hurt like hell, wouldn't recommend it." Spike smiled a bit, trying to lighten up the pained look on Buffy's face.
As Buffy worked on his chest, she rested one hand on his shoulder. Spike smiled as he felt her warmth. She was close now, kneeling between his legs in front of him. He closed his eyes and took in deep breath. He could smell her hair, feel her hands on him...his mind started going places, and his body wanted to follow. Spike knew if she saw him aroused in anyway, she'd be disgusted and probably kick him out. Spike opened his eyes and looked around the basement for something else to focus on. Near the wall, he saw a box filled with photos and other items. He noticed the pictures were of Buffy and Riley. Spike rolled his eyes and gave a 'pfft' sound before he realized what he was doing.
"What?" Buffy asked.
Spike gestured with his head towards the box. "You don't have much room down here for many more exes, luv."
"Mind your own business," Buffy said without much emotion.
"So what was it, then? What was the death-knell for Slayer and Soldier Boy? It was the vamp-whore, wasn't it?" Spike asked with genuine sincerity.
"Spike...it's none of your business." Buffy said, a bit more agitated.
"But I'm right, aren't I?"
Buffy sighed in half-surrender. "Irreconcilable differences. Happy? We just weren't compatible."
"Hmm...no, he seemed to me like the type of lapdog that would be an over- achiever. Hated to fail at anything, am I right? I can imagine he would work on those incompatibilities, just so he could say he tried."
"Just because you work on something doesn't mean it will succeed," Buffy said, truly wondering why she was entertaining this conversation with Spike.
"But the poor twit tried, didn't he?" Spike smiled a bit, truly amazed that Buffy was having this conversation with him.
"He tried...with some things. Some things just don't work no matter how hard you try."
"Oh yeah? What kinds of things? What things did GI Joe give his all to that just didn't work for you?" Spike said, a wicked thought forming.
Buffy just blushed and started arranging the supplies she had set on the floor.
Spike smiled broadly. "Ah...well, pet, my theory is, a man isn't keeping his woman happy, the woman needs to find someone that will."
Buffy glared at Spike. "You are such a pig."
An evil grin crept on Spike's face. "If your bloke doesn't make ya quiver, he's doin' something wrong."
Buffy looked away from Spike, contemplating whether she should slug him or jab her finger into the hole Glory started.
"I could, ya know," Spike continued.
Buffy was broken out of her thoughts about how to most effectively hurt Spike. "Could what?"
Spike leaned in close, so that he was only an inch from her ear. He breathed her in deeply and whispered, "Make ya quiver. Been around a long time. Learned a thing or two about making a woman moan." Spike was pleasantly surprised that Buffy wasn't moving away.
"I can make you feel so good you'll pant and beg for more of the Big Bad." Spike pulled his face back to look at Buffy, he still had the wicked grin.
Buffy just smiled and pulled away from Spike. She looked him up and down and casually said, "Is that so?" Spike nodded slowly.
"Spike, right now, you look like a hand job would turn you into a big pile of dust."
Spike rolled with the verbal punch quickly. "That an offer? Cuz I'd really prefer that to a stake if you're looking to kill me."
Buffy rose up in front of him. "I think we're done here."
"What about my leg?" Spike asked, his grin fading.
"Oh, right. Well...and I cringe as I say this...take off your pants."
Spike smiled and began quickly unbuckling his belt.
"WAIT! You ARE wearing underwear, aren't you?" Buffy asked.
"Um...not for about a hundred years, luv," Spike answered, now unzipping his pants.
Buffy looked up and sighed, "Then I think your leg will just have to heal on its own."
Spike grinned at her as he fixed his pants back. "But wouldn't it make *you* feel better?"
"Goodnight, Spike," Buffy said as she started up the stairs. "Don't forget, keep quiet...Oh...and there's something for you in the duffel bag." Buffy closed the basement door behind her.
Spike smiled as he slowly grabbed the duffel bag and drug it closer. He pulled out the blood and set it on the ground. He dug around until he found his gifts. A pack of cigarettes and a bottle of bourbon. Sweet Slayer, Spike thought as he took a pull on the bottle.
Not being accustomed to sleeping at night, Spike laid on the cot for a couple of hours. He listened as Buffy was upstairs carrying on with her life. Doing the dishes, it sounded like. Some music. A couple of phone calls. The muffled sounds were clear enough to keep him interested, but too indistinct to make much of them. Then he noticed everything get quiet. 'Slayer went to bed. Wonder what she'd do if I crawled in there with her.Probably deck me. Gotta stop thinking like that. You're not going to get any closer to her if she thinks you just want sex.'
The basement door creaking snapped Spike out of his reverie. 'Oh...Slayer coming to me? This could be interesting...' He sat up in his cot and shielded his eyes as the light came on.
"Spike!" It was Dawn, in light blue pajamas.
"Oh...hey, Niblet...um...I..." Spike was truly at a loss.
"Buffy thinks I'm stupid. She hates the basement. She's been down here once in the last year, and that was to put away some Riley stuff. I knew she had something hid down here, but I didn't know it was you." Dawn was smiling, still a bit surprised.
"Yeah, well...big sis just wanted to uh...make sure that I uh...Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"Don't worry, I'm not going to bug you all night. But I'm glad I have a chance to thank you. For what you did...Glory and all."
Spike looked down, a bit befuddled. "It was...nothing. Not as bad as all that."
"Is it as bad as it looks?"
"Ah, um...my face...yeah well. I bruise easy. Always have.Look, Buffy will kill me if she knows that you know I'm down here."
"Don't worry, the secret's safe with me. I was just curious, and well...I'm glad it's you."
Spike smiled a bit and looked away again.
"Well, I'll let you...sleep...or whatever vampires do at night." Dawn started up the stairs.
"Night, little bit."
"Night, Spike. And thanks again. I'm sorry that you got so hurt."
"Forget it. Sweet dreams, huh?" Spike smiled at her.
"Let's hope so," Dawn replied, a bit uncertain.
With the help of the bourbon, Spike managed to fall asleep a few hours before daybreak. Buffy checked on him once Dawn had gone off to school. He didn't stir at all as she approached him. She noticed the empty liquor bottle on the floor and figured him to be out for a while. She looked at his face. Most of the swelling was almost gone. His bruises were now a healing deep purple. Lying there, battered and not breathing, he could have easily passed for dead. But he didn't look dead to Buffy. He looked oddly sweet, innocent. Something he rarely looked when he was awake. No smirking, no smart remarks.just.Spike. She thought for a moment about what he might have been like before he was Spike. Before he was turned. Probably no platinum hair. Eyebrows are dark.probably brown hair. She couldn't form an image of him any other way than as she saw him lying there. She reached down and touched his cheek, tracing the strong jaw line. She had a momentary impulse to kiss him, gently, again. 'Hello, this is Spike we're talking about. We don't kiss Spike. Well, not again...'
She let the impulse pass and went back upstairs. She let him sleep until the middle of the afternoon. She retrieved some blood from his supply and warmed it in the microwave. She walked quietly back down the stairs and stood over him for a minute before kneeling beside him.
"Spike. Wake up."
Spike moved a bit, then whispered, "Slayer...yeah...like that, luv."
Buffy looked at him quizzically, then noticed his hand moving slowly from his chest to his stomach...and further. He was having a rather arousing dream. She panicked and turned her head just as Spike's hand reached his pants.
"Spike, wake up NOW or I swear I'll...I'll...God, wake UP!" She yelled, still refusing to look at him.
Spike roused a bit and looked over at her, noticing she was deliberately not looking at him. He was a bit confused until he looked down to where his hand was. 'Oh God, you idiot. What the bloody hell were you doing?' He tried to play it cool. "Uh...enjoy the show, luv?" His tone was neither convincing nor cool.
Buffy kept not looking at him and said, "Here... I brought you some blood...just take it so I can go."
Spike frowned a bit and sat up, taking the mug from her. "Thanks," was all he could think to say.
As Buffy headed back to the stairs, Spike said, "Just like your mum..."
"What about my mother?" Buffy shot back defensively.
"She always had a cuppa for me. Not usually blood...but still. She was a nice lady, Buffy. I never got a chance to tell you, but I'm real sorry about her." Spike looked very sincere, and Buffy felt it.
"Thank you, Spike." After a long moment, she walked back toward him. She sat on the cot next to him. "This stuff, with Glory...it feels like it's all coming to a head. She seems more desperate, like maybe she's running out of time. I don't really know, but I'm just getting a sense that whatever she needs Dawn for is going to happen soon. Spike, you're the only other person who can protect her. I know I don't have the right to ask this of you, especially after how I've treated you...and after what Glory did to you, I'd imagine you're not eager to get tangled in this stuff any more than you are...but..." Buffy was looking for the words.
Spike cocked his head and looked at her earnestly. "Whatever you need, Slayer. I'm you're vamp. I'll do whatever I can to protect Dawn."
Buffy smiled faintly and sighed, "Look, I know you...have feelings for me and that's why you're doing this. But, I just...Spike, don't help me because you think I'll owe you something."
Spike looked so heartbroken that Buffy had to look away. He stood up slowly. "Owe me something? Is that what you think? Hey, thanks for at least acknowledging that I can have feelings, but don't think for a bloody second that I want anything from you that comes from a feeling of debt or obligation. You're damned right I'm doing all this because I have feelings for you...that I love you. I'm doing this because the part of me that loves you--the part that doesn't want to rip you to shreds on a daily basis, the part that is growing everyday-that part of me can't stand to see you hurting. I'd sooner rip out my eyeballs than see you cry. Yesterday, right here in the floor, you were in so much pain, and I ached -ached- because there wasn't a bloody thing I could do for you. Do you know what it takes to make a vampire ache inside?" At this, he pounded his fist on his chest to show her where he hurt.
"So, yeah...I'm doing all this because I love you. And I'll do anything to keep you and Dawn safe. But no, I don't expect a damned thing from you, Slayer. You owing me...no, that's not the way I want you. And I know...I know I'll never have you like I want you. I've accepted that. But that doesn't change how I feel. God I wish it did, but it doesn't. So I help you and kid sis, because whatever it is in me that loves won't SOD THE HELL OFF!" Spike was red with anger, limping around the small basement.
Buffy didn't know what to say. She walked over to where Spike had settled, bracing himself on the washer, his entire body tense with anger. She touched his shoulder and he flinched. He slowly raised his head and looked at her. She could see his anger fading, but his eyes were just slightly wet.
"Spike...I'm sorry. I didn't mean...Look, I wanted to ask you...will you stay here, until this thing with Glory is over? I don't think it will be long now, and I'd feel a lot better knowing there was someone else almost as powerful as me in the house, for Dawn. Free blood and booze for the duration..." Buffy smiled weakly as Spike pondered the offer.
"You're asking me to stay here? In your house?" Spike was genuinely taken aback.
"Yeah. Please?" Buffy was pleading with her eyes, even though she knew his answer.
"Of course, Slayer. I'll play guard dog at the Summer's house." Spike gave her a small smile.
"Thanks." Buffy started up the stairs.
"Oh Slayer?" Spike called and Buffy turned to him.
"*Almost* as powerful as you?"
Buffy smiled. "You're right. That's not fair of me. With that chip in your head, you're nowhere near as powerful as me."
"Slayer...when I get this chip out, maybe you and I will settle it once and for all," Spike said with a wicked grin.
"Maybe, Spike. Maybe. But all I have to do is find your weakness." With that, Buffy shut the door.
Spike smiled. 'You know my weakness, luv. And you're already using it.'
Spike slunk to the cot and took a moment to look around. He couldn't help but laugh. Here was a neutered, beaten vampire staying in a Slayer's basement-a Slayer that he loved-drinking blood from a mug, and sleeping on an old cot that his feet hung off of. It was a pretty sorry sight, but Spike knew he didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.
Disclaimers: I once asked Joss if he would pay me to write fanfic based on his ME characters. He just kinda smiled and backed away slowly...strange.
Feedback: I'm a newbie to the writing, so any kind word would probably keep me from crumbling into a pathetic mess of a failure. And any not so kind words will help me get more kind words later, so all is appreciated!
**************
"What you did for Dawn and for me...that was real. And I won't forget it."
The line kept running through Spike's head. Along with the kiss. He knew it didn't mean what he desperately wanted it to mean. She didn't suddenly realize her love for him. She didn't return the feelings he had for her. The kiss was just...a reward of sorts. But it meant more. He knew that she'd no longer look at him with utter disgust and wish him off the planet. He was in her trust again. And that was more than he had hoped for after what happened with Buffy and Dru in the cave.
He tried to recapture the feeling of her soft lips on his. They had barely touched, and in that gentle moment, he knew it was the real Buffy. He had been wrong. The bot was nice. Very nice. But it wasn't better than the real thing. He got more emotional joy out of that solitary kiss than the whole day he had with the bot. That kiss...her lips...he tried hard to remember the feel of them.but all he could feel was the damage Glory had done to him. His face was mush and hurt like hell. He tried to get off the tomb he was sitting on, but the effort was too much. His whole body was screaming. Ribs, legs, face, chest.there wasn't really much of him that didn't hurt. He fell back on the tomb and before he slipped out of consciousness, he really wished he could reach his bourbon.
Buffy sat on a headstone, a good distance from Spike's crypt. She wondered why he had done it. Why he risked his life...endured so much pain. For her. For her sister. It couldn't be love, she was sure of that. She had seen enough from Spike in the past to know he was evil, unable to love except in the freaky way that vampires cling to each other. The way Angel had talked about being with Darla when he didn't have a soul. Angel said he didn't, couldn't love until he got his soul back. Actually, he didn't love until he met her. So she had it on good authority that what Spike thought he was feeling wasn't love. But what was it? If he had told Glory about Dawn, and she let him go, Buffy would have dusted him quick. That was probably why he didn't say anything to Glory. He'd rather withstand a little torture than be killed. But it wasn't just a little torture...and he was well on his way to being killed anyway. And he said... "Anything happened to Dawn, it'd destroy her. I couldn't live, her bein' in so much pain." He said it in such a way, with such a soft, sincere voice that she didn't doubt it at all when it was said. That's why she kissed him. Part of Buffy was so disgusted that she had done it. But he looked so... sad and hurt and vulnerable. And she knew that he had done it all for her, so she gave him a little kiss. She hoped it wasn't something that he mistook for affection. She wasn't entirely sure what it was, but something hit her at the moment he spoke with such honesty. 'Give him something.he deserves a touch of kindness. He wants you. He had the bot made so he could be with you, in some small way. He didn't betray your sister, and now his pain is for you. He's weak and now he's alone...give him something...something of you.' So she kissed him...softly, so his broken face wouldn't hurt more. And then he realized it was her...his face echoed the confusion in her head. She left him, but not without letting him know that things had changed between them.
And now, sitting on the headstone, she still wasn't sure what had changed between them. But the revulsion towards him of the last week was gone. She knew she could count on him, and with Glory in town, she needed everyone she could get. She got up slowly, noticing the sun was going down. As she walked toward home, she chuckled a bit at the large, long shadow she cast in front of her. If Glory had made her realize anything, it was that she was not as big and tough as she thought she was. When it came to dealing with Glory, Buffy was like her shadow: a big, tough illusion.
When she was a couple of blocks from Spike's place, something made her freeze in her tracks. Xander said that Glory's minions had grabbed Spike from his crypt. And she and the Scoobies had just dropped him right back there. To get snatched again. And he was in no shape to be fighting anyone, much less a god. Glory hadn't come for him yet, but what was to stop her? She didn't seem like a god who liked being mocked. And what's more scornful than a weak vampire breaking from a god's grasp? Buffy didn't wait around to come up with an answer. She turned around and headed back to Spike, with one detour.
"Spike. SPIKE! Wake up!" Buffy yelled as she shook the body that could pass for a corpse.
Spike fazed back into consciousness and opened his good eye.
"Buffy? What're you doing here? Can't let the undead rest in peace?" As Spike said this, he chuckled a bit at the joke. Buffy didn't laugh, she just started tugging at his arms to get him to sit up.
"Look, Glory's minions found you here in the first place. I don't think even this would be a challenge for them."
"Easy on the parts there, Slayer. Not exactly a hundred percent here. What's your plan?" Spike was sitting up now and noticing the seriousness of Buffy's look.
She hesitated a moment before saying, "My place. I'll take you to my place. But you stay in the basement until you're better. And the others.don't find out about this. They'd think I was crazy, which I probably am. But you're in this mess because of me and Dawn, so I figure the least I can do is help you get better."
Spike smiled at her, or what passed for a smile with his face in its battered condition. He looked at her for a long moment. A moment so long that it made Buffy uncomfortable.
"What are you staring at? Let's go! The sun's down, so if you can walk, we should be fine," Buffy said as she walked to Spike's refrigerator and collected all of the blood that was in there. She grabbed a duffel bag lying on the floor and put the blood in there, along with the brown paper bag she had brought.
Spike slid slowly off the tomb saying, "Well...problem is Slayer, I can't walk so well. I think that chippie mucked up my knee.or maybe that was when I fell into the elevator shaft...don't really remember.".. Buffy's eyebrows went up and she said, "So what, you want me to carry you? Just keep up with me the best you can." With that, she started out the door, duffel bag in hand.
Spike gave her a big smile that she never saw. 'That's my girl,' he thought, 'no pity, even in mercy.'
Spike limped slowly behind Buffy, more than once enjoying the view of her leather pants reflected in the twilight. Buffy stopped and turned with a sigh, "Gee Spike, the sun just set. At this rate, we might reach my house by the time it rises again."
Spike loved this side of the Slayer. It's what he missed in the bot, but thought he could overlook. 'No,' he realized, 'there's no substitute for attitude in leather.' He reached her just as she put her hands on her hips and gave another exasperated sigh. 'If I were a stronger man, Slayer...what I wouldn't do to you.' He knew he wouldn't do anything to her, except be grateful to be in her good graces again. But a guy could dream.
Without a word she started walking again, but she sympathetically slowed her pace, to keep with his hobbling time.
"Whatcha got in the bag? Besides the blood you stole from me?"
"Uh, right.I've recently taken up drinking blood as a hobby," she snapped at him.
"Ok, so the blood's for me. What else ya got in there? Any booze?" Spike looked hopefully at Buffy.
"You wish. I have some supplies. Some medical stuff. To patch you up with. Just what I could find at the 7-11."
"Ah...right. Don't suppose you got me a slurpee? Or one of those great long sticks of meat they have?"
"That would be jerky, and no. But I can put some ice and blood in a blender and make you a plasma slurpee."
Spike shuddered at the idea of ice-cold blood and made a fake retching sound. Buffy laughed at him. Spike smiled at the sound of her laughter-he hadn't heard it in a long time. Buffy noticed him smiling at her and shyly looked away. They walked, slowly, the rest of the way to Buffy's house in a strangely comfortable silence.
As soon as they reached her house, Buffy sent Spike to the basement immediately. He had taken the re-invite with a half-smile. Inside he counted it as a small victory. But they both knew it was much more. He was in her life again. For good or for bad. As she walked to the phone, she could hear him laboring painfully down the steps. She wondered for a moment if she should help him, but then shook that thought away when she heard him yell, "Summers! Your basement is a rat hole! No self-respecting vamp would be caught dusted here!"
Buffy smiled as she called back to him, "Well, it's a good thing you're not self-respecting. And you live with corpses, so I don't want to hear another word!"
She picked up the phone and dialed. "Giles, it's me. Can you bring Dawn home?...Yeah, I talked to Spike...No, he didn't tell Glory anything...I can just tell. He thought I was the robot. He wasn't lying...No, I'm sure of it...Ok, thanks, Giles."
As Buffy hung up the phone, she could hear a racket in the basement. "Spike! What are you doing?" She picked up the duffel bag and started down the stairs.
"Just trying to make myself comfortable, luv." Spike was trying, with much difficulty, to pull out an old sleeping bag from a box. Buffy was standing at the bottom of the steps when he noticed her looking at him strangely. "What? What're you lookin' at?"
"We have a cot...over there in the corner. Might be more comfortable than the sleeping bag."
"Oh...right. That'll work too." Spike hobbled to the corner and drug the cot into the middle of the small room. With a sigh, he sat down and stretched out his injured leg.
"Ok, look. I'm going to help dress your...wounds, but-"
"--Sexy wounds?" Spike interrupted with a smile. His smile faded when he saw that Buffy didn't really want to be reminded of that scene. Her pretending to be the bot, the kiss...he wasn't sure what exactly it was that made her uncomfortable.
"BUT," she continued, "you have to cooperate and not be a big baby. And yeah, I'm going to be touching your...body...but only in a wound-bandaging sense, so don't get any ideas."
"Hmm...what kind of ideas would a Big Bad like me ever get about a supple, young girl touching my...body?" Spike gave his best attempt at an evil grin before Buffy grabbed him by the hair. "OWWW!"
"Yeah, exactly. Those ideas you're having right now...knock it off." She gave his head a final little shake before letting him go.
Spike rubbed his head and said, "Already with the rough stuff, then? 'Fraid I'm no match for you...yet," he raised his eyebrow at her.
She shot him a look that said death, and he put up his hands in supplication. "Alright, alright. You win. No naughty thoughts for Spike. I'll think of...puppy dogs...the circus.a beautiful sunrise...Ah, who am I kidding, I hate all those things," Spike sighed in resignation.
"I don't care what you think about as long as it's not...disgusting," Buffy said as she pulled out supplies from the duffel bag.
Spike cocked his head and got a barely perceptible wounded look. "Not disgusting. Never disgusting, luv." His look and words made Buffy momentarily uncomfortable. She was unable to respond with a retort that she felt he deserved.
"Look, Giles is bringing Dawn home soon. I don't want her to know you're here, so keep it quiet, ok?" Buffy started to clean the wounds on Spike's forehead as she spoke.
Spike flinched at the burn of the alcohol she used to clean his gashes.
"Baby."
"I'm the Big Bad, and you'll do well to remember that," Spike declared with some indignation.
"You're the Big BABY, is what you are," Buffy chuckled.
"Don't know why you're makin' such a fuss anyway. Not like any of this..cleaning, bandages, whatnot, does *me* any good. I'll heal just fine without. I don't get infections, ya know."
"Well...it does *me* some good. Relieves some of my guilt over this whole...Glory-treating-you-like-a-punching-bag deal."
Spike smiled sarcastically at this. "Well, Slayer, as long as it makes *you* feel better, carry on."
"Hey, fine. I guess you don't want me *touching* your *body*," she said as she started to put away the supplies.
"Hey now, I didn't say stop! Just...messin' with ya a bit. Kinda my job, ya know? Not much else I can do to you right now anyway. No, I take that back...there's plenty I could do to you..." Spike retrieved his mischievous smile.
"What did I say about those thoughts? And the not thinking them??"
"Right...sorry, Slayer. Please...continue touching my body while I think of wholesome things," Spike closed his eyes, mocking deep thought.
"I give up! I don't know why I even try!" Buffy said exasperatedly as she threw down the cloth she was using. Just then she heard the front door open.
"BUFFY?" Dawn called from upstairs.
Buffy jumped a bit and looked at Spike with a sternness that he loved. "Not a sound, or I won't even bother to clean up your dust when I'm done with you."
Spike smiled at her faux threat, then nodded in acquiescence.
By the time Buffy reached the basement door, Dawn was looking all around for her.
"Hey, here I am. Just down in the basement. Doing..basement-y stuff," she tried to sound chipper and convincing.
"Ooook. Giles said to tell you hi. He said he was expecting a call from the Watcher's Council, so he had to go home."
"Oh...alright. So um...I should make dinner." Buffy headed to the kitchen.
"Xander ordered pizza for everyone. We waited for you."
"I know...I just had to...," Buffy searched for a convincing answer.
"To make sure Spike was ok?" Dawn finished.
"Spike? Oh...yeah. I made sure he was...ok."
"Giles told us that you said he didn't tell Glory about me. And that he looked really...bad. Is he going to be alright?"
"Yeah...he'll be fine. Vampires are resilient, ya know? He'll bounce right back in no time and be lurking outside our house before you know it!" Buffy tried for cheerful, but only achieved uncertain optimism.
"Ok. You're not still mad at him, are you? I mean, I know he, like, chained you up and stuff...but..." Dawn trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish.
Buffy completed her thought. "But he did something very nice for us today. Something he didn't have to do. Something I never imagined he would do...No, I'm not mad at him anymore. But he's still a vampire, Dawn. We can't afford to forget that. Everything bad in Angel was because he was a vampire. We can't just let our guard down because Spike did something nice for us," Buffy was contemplating heavily her words.
"He's got a chip! He can't hurt anyone. He got tortured so Glory wouldn't find me. What more do you need?" Dawn was stunned at her sister's callousness. Buffy couldn't find a response.
"I've got a lot of homework to catch up on. Then I'm going to bed." Dawn said coldly as she huffed upstairs.
"Dawn!" Buffy called after her, to no avail. Buffy sighed and started towards the living room when she remembered her guest in the basement.
She found Spike as she had left him, sitting quietly on the cot. He looked up at her and asked, "All well with the Summers sisters?"
"Everything's fine. Let's just get this finished," Buffy said harshly as she started again with cleaning his wounds.
"What's wrong, pet?" Spike asked quietly.
The weight of his words hit Buffy all at once. She stared at him blankly at first, then stood up as her eyes welled up with tears. Her entire body tensed and this took Spike by surprise. He leaned away from her, unsure of what to expect.
"What's wrong? What's WRONG?? My mother's dead, Spike. And if that's not enough, there is a crazy hell-god looking to take my sister from me too. And for the first time in my life, I can't fight the enemy and save the world. She's too strong. I can't fight a god! So if Glory doesn't kill me first, I'm going to have to live in a miserable world without my mom and my sister, and everyone will just expect me to carry on with my slayer duties because I'm supposed to be strong enough to handle whatever life throws at me. Well, I'm NOT. And I CAN'T!" With this, Buffy crumbled to the floor just in front of Spike, her head in her hands, sobbing.
Spike was taken aback for a long moment, hesitant to move. Then he reached out his hand to touch her shoulder. She didn't respond. Spike then slowly slid off the cot onto the ground beside Buffy, so that his legs were on either side of her huddled form. He cautiously put his arms around her, slowly drawing her to him. Buffy seemed not to notice, still sobbing into her hands.
"Shhh...shhh, pet. It's alright...Everything's going to be alright," Spike tried reassuring her, not entirely sure she could hear him, the state she was in.
They remained like that for a few minutes: Buffy, head in her hands, Spike, holding her gently, hoping to give her a bit of comfort before she realized who was embracing her.
When Buffy came out of it, she didn't push him away. She simply lifted her head, wiped her tears away, and slowly got up. Spike released her as she moved away, wondering what he should do next, if anything.
Buffy looked down at him and tried for a chuckle, "Let's talk about something else, huh? How about those dirty thoughts you were having about me?"
Spike smiled weakly at her remark and slowly lifted himself back onto the cot.
Buffy restarted her task, bandaging Spike's face. They didn't talk for a few minutes, Buffy keeping herself busy, Spike off in thought.
"Take off your shirt," Buffy demanded.
"What?" Spike was yanked back into reality.
"Your shirt. You have some cuts on your chest and stomach. I want to clean those up too."
"Ah, right. Ok," Spike slowly and with much pain, lifted his shirt over his head. Buffy could see him struggling, so she helped him pull it off.
"Oww...what is THAT from?" Buffy asked, pointing at the round wound on his chest.
Spike looked down at what she was pointing at, "Oh, that. That would be where the skank poked her finger into me. Dug around a bit. Hurt like hell, wouldn't recommend it." Spike smiled a bit, trying to lighten up the pained look on Buffy's face.
As Buffy worked on his chest, she rested one hand on his shoulder. Spike smiled as he felt her warmth. She was close now, kneeling between his legs in front of him. He closed his eyes and took in deep breath. He could smell her hair, feel her hands on him...his mind started going places, and his body wanted to follow. Spike knew if she saw him aroused in anyway, she'd be disgusted and probably kick him out. Spike opened his eyes and looked around the basement for something else to focus on. Near the wall, he saw a box filled with photos and other items. He noticed the pictures were of Buffy and Riley. Spike rolled his eyes and gave a 'pfft' sound before he realized what he was doing.
"What?" Buffy asked.
Spike gestured with his head towards the box. "You don't have much room down here for many more exes, luv."
"Mind your own business," Buffy said without much emotion.
"So what was it, then? What was the death-knell for Slayer and Soldier Boy? It was the vamp-whore, wasn't it?" Spike asked with genuine sincerity.
"Spike...it's none of your business." Buffy said, a bit more agitated.
"But I'm right, aren't I?"
Buffy sighed in half-surrender. "Irreconcilable differences. Happy? We just weren't compatible."
"Hmm...no, he seemed to me like the type of lapdog that would be an over- achiever. Hated to fail at anything, am I right? I can imagine he would work on those incompatibilities, just so he could say he tried."
"Just because you work on something doesn't mean it will succeed," Buffy said, truly wondering why she was entertaining this conversation with Spike.
"But the poor twit tried, didn't he?" Spike smiled a bit, truly amazed that Buffy was having this conversation with him.
"He tried...with some things. Some things just don't work no matter how hard you try."
"Oh yeah? What kinds of things? What things did GI Joe give his all to that just didn't work for you?" Spike said, a wicked thought forming.
Buffy just blushed and started arranging the supplies she had set on the floor.
Spike smiled broadly. "Ah...well, pet, my theory is, a man isn't keeping his woman happy, the woman needs to find someone that will."
Buffy glared at Spike. "You are such a pig."
An evil grin crept on Spike's face. "If your bloke doesn't make ya quiver, he's doin' something wrong."
Buffy looked away from Spike, contemplating whether she should slug him or jab her finger into the hole Glory started.
"I could, ya know," Spike continued.
Buffy was broken out of her thoughts about how to most effectively hurt Spike. "Could what?"
Spike leaned in close, so that he was only an inch from her ear. He breathed her in deeply and whispered, "Make ya quiver. Been around a long time. Learned a thing or two about making a woman moan." Spike was pleasantly surprised that Buffy wasn't moving away.
"I can make you feel so good you'll pant and beg for more of the Big Bad." Spike pulled his face back to look at Buffy, he still had the wicked grin.
Buffy just smiled and pulled away from Spike. She looked him up and down and casually said, "Is that so?" Spike nodded slowly.
"Spike, right now, you look like a hand job would turn you into a big pile of dust."
Spike rolled with the verbal punch quickly. "That an offer? Cuz I'd really prefer that to a stake if you're looking to kill me."
Buffy rose up in front of him. "I think we're done here."
"What about my leg?" Spike asked, his grin fading.
"Oh, right. Well...and I cringe as I say this...take off your pants."
Spike smiled and began quickly unbuckling his belt.
"WAIT! You ARE wearing underwear, aren't you?" Buffy asked.
"Um...not for about a hundred years, luv," Spike answered, now unzipping his pants.
Buffy looked up and sighed, "Then I think your leg will just have to heal on its own."
Spike grinned at her as he fixed his pants back. "But wouldn't it make *you* feel better?"
"Goodnight, Spike," Buffy said as she started up the stairs. "Don't forget, keep quiet...Oh...and there's something for you in the duffel bag." Buffy closed the basement door behind her.
Spike smiled as he slowly grabbed the duffel bag and drug it closer. He pulled out the blood and set it on the ground. He dug around until he found his gifts. A pack of cigarettes and a bottle of bourbon. Sweet Slayer, Spike thought as he took a pull on the bottle.
Not being accustomed to sleeping at night, Spike laid on the cot for a couple of hours. He listened as Buffy was upstairs carrying on with her life. Doing the dishes, it sounded like. Some music. A couple of phone calls. The muffled sounds were clear enough to keep him interested, but too indistinct to make much of them. Then he noticed everything get quiet. 'Slayer went to bed. Wonder what she'd do if I crawled in there with her.Probably deck me. Gotta stop thinking like that. You're not going to get any closer to her if she thinks you just want sex.'
The basement door creaking snapped Spike out of his reverie. 'Oh...Slayer coming to me? This could be interesting...' He sat up in his cot and shielded his eyes as the light came on.
"Spike!" It was Dawn, in light blue pajamas.
"Oh...hey, Niblet...um...I..." Spike was truly at a loss.
"Buffy thinks I'm stupid. She hates the basement. She's been down here once in the last year, and that was to put away some Riley stuff. I knew she had something hid down here, but I didn't know it was you." Dawn was smiling, still a bit surprised.
"Yeah, well...big sis just wanted to uh...make sure that I uh...Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"Don't worry, I'm not going to bug you all night. But I'm glad I have a chance to thank you. For what you did...Glory and all."
Spike looked down, a bit befuddled. "It was...nothing. Not as bad as all that."
"Is it as bad as it looks?"
"Ah, um...my face...yeah well. I bruise easy. Always have.Look, Buffy will kill me if she knows that you know I'm down here."
"Don't worry, the secret's safe with me. I was just curious, and well...I'm glad it's you."
Spike smiled a bit and looked away again.
"Well, I'll let you...sleep...or whatever vampires do at night." Dawn started up the stairs.
"Night, little bit."
"Night, Spike. And thanks again. I'm sorry that you got so hurt."
"Forget it. Sweet dreams, huh?" Spike smiled at her.
"Let's hope so," Dawn replied, a bit uncertain.
With the help of the bourbon, Spike managed to fall asleep a few hours before daybreak. Buffy checked on him once Dawn had gone off to school. He didn't stir at all as she approached him. She noticed the empty liquor bottle on the floor and figured him to be out for a while. She looked at his face. Most of the swelling was almost gone. His bruises were now a healing deep purple. Lying there, battered and not breathing, he could have easily passed for dead. But he didn't look dead to Buffy. He looked oddly sweet, innocent. Something he rarely looked when he was awake. No smirking, no smart remarks.just.Spike. She thought for a moment about what he might have been like before he was Spike. Before he was turned. Probably no platinum hair. Eyebrows are dark.probably brown hair. She couldn't form an image of him any other way than as she saw him lying there. She reached down and touched his cheek, tracing the strong jaw line. She had a momentary impulse to kiss him, gently, again. 'Hello, this is Spike we're talking about. We don't kiss Spike. Well, not again...'
She let the impulse pass and went back upstairs. She let him sleep until the middle of the afternoon. She retrieved some blood from his supply and warmed it in the microwave. She walked quietly back down the stairs and stood over him for a minute before kneeling beside him.
"Spike. Wake up."
Spike moved a bit, then whispered, "Slayer...yeah...like that, luv."
Buffy looked at him quizzically, then noticed his hand moving slowly from his chest to his stomach...and further. He was having a rather arousing dream. She panicked and turned her head just as Spike's hand reached his pants.
"Spike, wake up NOW or I swear I'll...I'll...God, wake UP!" She yelled, still refusing to look at him.
Spike roused a bit and looked over at her, noticing she was deliberately not looking at him. He was a bit confused until he looked down to where his hand was. 'Oh God, you idiot. What the bloody hell were you doing?' He tried to play it cool. "Uh...enjoy the show, luv?" His tone was neither convincing nor cool.
Buffy kept not looking at him and said, "Here... I brought you some blood...just take it so I can go."
Spike frowned a bit and sat up, taking the mug from her. "Thanks," was all he could think to say.
As Buffy headed back to the stairs, Spike said, "Just like your mum..."
"What about my mother?" Buffy shot back defensively.
"She always had a cuppa for me. Not usually blood...but still. She was a nice lady, Buffy. I never got a chance to tell you, but I'm real sorry about her." Spike looked very sincere, and Buffy felt it.
"Thank you, Spike." After a long moment, she walked back toward him. She sat on the cot next to him. "This stuff, with Glory...it feels like it's all coming to a head. She seems more desperate, like maybe she's running out of time. I don't really know, but I'm just getting a sense that whatever she needs Dawn for is going to happen soon. Spike, you're the only other person who can protect her. I know I don't have the right to ask this of you, especially after how I've treated you...and after what Glory did to you, I'd imagine you're not eager to get tangled in this stuff any more than you are...but..." Buffy was looking for the words.
Spike cocked his head and looked at her earnestly. "Whatever you need, Slayer. I'm you're vamp. I'll do whatever I can to protect Dawn."
Buffy smiled faintly and sighed, "Look, I know you...have feelings for me and that's why you're doing this. But, I just...Spike, don't help me because you think I'll owe you something."
Spike looked so heartbroken that Buffy had to look away. He stood up slowly. "Owe me something? Is that what you think? Hey, thanks for at least acknowledging that I can have feelings, but don't think for a bloody second that I want anything from you that comes from a feeling of debt or obligation. You're damned right I'm doing all this because I have feelings for you...that I love you. I'm doing this because the part of me that loves you--the part that doesn't want to rip you to shreds on a daily basis, the part that is growing everyday-that part of me can't stand to see you hurting. I'd sooner rip out my eyeballs than see you cry. Yesterday, right here in the floor, you were in so much pain, and I ached -ached- because there wasn't a bloody thing I could do for you. Do you know what it takes to make a vampire ache inside?" At this, he pounded his fist on his chest to show her where he hurt.
"So, yeah...I'm doing all this because I love you. And I'll do anything to keep you and Dawn safe. But no, I don't expect a damned thing from you, Slayer. You owing me...no, that's not the way I want you. And I know...I know I'll never have you like I want you. I've accepted that. But that doesn't change how I feel. God I wish it did, but it doesn't. So I help you and kid sis, because whatever it is in me that loves won't SOD THE HELL OFF!" Spike was red with anger, limping around the small basement.
Buffy didn't know what to say. She walked over to where Spike had settled, bracing himself on the washer, his entire body tense with anger. She touched his shoulder and he flinched. He slowly raised his head and looked at her. She could see his anger fading, but his eyes were just slightly wet.
"Spike...I'm sorry. I didn't mean...Look, I wanted to ask you...will you stay here, until this thing with Glory is over? I don't think it will be long now, and I'd feel a lot better knowing there was someone else almost as powerful as me in the house, for Dawn. Free blood and booze for the duration..." Buffy smiled weakly as Spike pondered the offer.
"You're asking me to stay here? In your house?" Spike was genuinely taken aback.
"Yeah. Please?" Buffy was pleading with her eyes, even though she knew his answer.
"Of course, Slayer. I'll play guard dog at the Summer's house." Spike gave her a small smile.
"Thanks." Buffy started up the stairs.
"Oh Slayer?" Spike called and Buffy turned to him.
"*Almost* as powerful as you?"
Buffy smiled. "You're right. That's not fair of me. With that chip in your head, you're nowhere near as powerful as me."
"Slayer...when I get this chip out, maybe you and I will settle it once and for all," Spike said with a wicked grin.
"Maybe, Spike. Maybe. But all I have to do is find your weakness." With that, Buffy shut the door.
Spike smiled. 'You know my weakness, luv. And you're already using it.'
Spike slunk to the cot and took a moment to look around. He couldn't help but laugh. Here was a neutered, beaten vampire staying in a Slayer's basement-a Slayer that he loved-drinking blood from a mug, and sleeping on an old cot that his feet hung off of. It was a pretty sorry sight, but Spike knew he didn't want to be anywhere else in the world.