A/N - Howdy, howdy, howdy! So, here's the next chapter. I had a bit of difficulty getting this particular chappie from my brain to the page to the computer. I hope it's satisfactory. Anywho, here it is! Please read and review!

P.S. I know I said I would try to get chapters out faster, but I've taken another job (stupid college costs) and I'll be pretty busy for the foreseeable future. On the upside, I now get a discount at JC Penney's. The bad part is I won't have as much free time to write. Excuses, excuses...I know, I'm a horrible person but I'm begging your forgiveness! Please don't hate me if it takes me awhile to update!

DISCLAIMER: Do you know how happy I would be if I owned Spike? Very, very happy is the correct answer ladies and gents. But alas, Spike - like everything else from the Buffyverse, in fact - is not mine and I am very, very sad. Please don't sue this sad, sad girl...

The Visitor - Chapter 10

"Oh my God. What happened?" Joyce Summers uttered when her oldest daughter burst through the front door of their home carrying an unconscious Spike and followed closely by the entire Scooby gang.

"Hell God." Buffy explained shortly, gently setting the battered vampire on the living room sofa and kneeling so she was level with his bruised face. Tears welled up in her eyes and slid silently down her cheeks as she ran her hand through Spike's loosened platinum curls, dislodging dried flakes of blood. "I need to get him cleaned up."

"I'll get you some warm water and a washcloth, honey. And bandages? Would bandages be helpful?" Joyce looked to Giles when it became apparent that her daughter would not be so forthcoming. Buffy had placed her forehead against a small unmarked patch of skin high on Spike's shoulder, small hiccuping sobs escaping every few seconds.

"Yes Joyce," said the Brit, "bandages would be very helpful."

After the Summer's matriarch disappeared into the kitchen an awkward silence fell over those remaining with Buffy as she sat vigil by Spike. No one knew how exactly to address the distraught Slayer as she whimpered into his shoulder. None of them - with the possible exception of Willow after the whole Angel debacle - had ever seen the Slayer cry. She was the poster child for emotional strength and to see her break down now was highly uncomfortable to all involved.

Giles and Xander - who had only just come to terms with the fact that Buffy and Spike were even friends - were having an especially difficult time. It was clear, even to the most obtuse of individuals, that there something more going on between Slayer and vampire. Something that neither man cared to define, because labeling would only make it real.

The quiet was only disturbed when Anya deemed it necessary to voice her confusion.

"There really is no reason for Buffy to be so upset. Why is she crying?" The ex-demon inquired bluntly. "Once he regains consciousness and his vamp healing kicks in, Spike will be perfectly fine. At least he's not dust, right? Sure he's a little beat-up now, but it's not like he's deader or anything."

"'A little beat-up'?" Buffy's head snapped up from it's spot close to the crook of Spike's neck. "He was tortured! Let's tie you up and I'll wail on you for a few hours then we'll see how you like being 'a little beat up."

"Well, I was just saying..." Anya began to defend herself before Xander intervened.

"Ahn honey, why don't you and I go home? There's really nothing more we can do here and you have to be up early tomorrow to open the shop."

"Oh yes," Anya's eyes lit up with the prospect of earning money, "Sundays are extremely good business days which is ironic since magic is frowned upon in the Bible and Sunday is supposed to be all holy and everything."

Jumping on the bandwagon, Willow quickly made her excuses to escape. "Uh, we should get going too. My mom's making us come to brunch tomorrow so she can meet Tara and we can have the whole 'I've been in a lesbian relationship for almost a year, sorry I didn't tell you sooner' talk."

"We'll be back tomorrow, though." Tara hastened to add. "As soon as we can. I'll even bring some herbs that you can put in Spike's blood when he eats that'll help speed up his healing."

With a mumbled 'thanks', Buffy once buried her face against her vampire's skin. Feeling as though they had been dismissed, the Scoobies followed a somewhat flustered looking Giles to the door. "Yes well, erm..." the Watcher struggled for something to say, "I suppose we'll see you tomorrow. Do call if you need anything before then." And with that they were gone. Buffy didn't fully process their departure until her mother returned with a Tupperware bowl full of water and a first aid kit.

"Where did everyone go?"

"Huh?" Buffy glanced up, briefly taking in the empty room before once again focusing her attention on Spike. It was like a thick fog had surrounded her mind, dampening her senses and making it impossible to properly focus on anything, but the vampire before her. "Oh, erm...I guess they must have left. I wasn't paying attention. Did you bring bandages?"

The Summers women set about cleaning and bandaging the many cuts and abraisions marring their favorite vamp's skin, working diligently to make sure each injury was cared for. It wasn't until the pair had finished rapping his busted ribs and the haze that had blanketed her brain began to clear that Buffy noted the lack of excitable teenage girl fluttering around.

"Where's Dawn?" She asked her mother.

"In her room asleep." Joyce replied softly. "I had to give her something to calm her down. I was afraid she was going to have a panic attack. Poor thing kept mumbling about Spike being dusted and how it would be all her fault."

"Should I wake her up? Let her know that Spike is still...un-alive."

"No, let her sleep. He'll still be here for her to fuss over in the morning." Joyce said, her voice soft and soothing. "You should get some sleep, too. You'll be no good to Spike if you're falling over with exhaustion in the morning."

"But..."

"No, no 'buts', Buffy. Chosen one or not, you still need your rest."

"I know." The Slayer conceded with an ill-timed yawn. "It's just...I'm afraid that if I look away, if I let him out of my sight for more than a second, he'll disappear and I won't get him back this time."

"So I take it you'll be sleeping down here tonight?" Joyce questioned with an understanding smile.

"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "I want to be here when he wakes up."

Note to self, Spike thought dryly as he swan towards consciousness, avoid torture by Hell God from now on. The first thing he noted once he became aware of his surroundings was the pressure of something resting on his chest. After a few moments of confusion, the Master vamp realized that he was no longer chained to a wall in the Hell Bint's apartment but was instead lying in the living room of the Slayer's house. And the weight bearing down on his healing torso was none other than the Slayer herself. She'd filled the small gap between his side and the back of the couch, resting the upper half of her body on top of his.

She'd come to get him. She'd rescued him. Part of him had known she would, had known that she would not simply leave in to dust. But a larger part - the part that still vividly recalled the claims of his worthlessness so easily bandied about by the likes of Angeleus and Cecily - had firmly believed that she would decide he wasn't worth the trouble of retrieval and write him off as a loss. But she hadn't and that amazed him.

"Oh, Buffy..." He sighed on an exhalation of breath as he took in her sleeping face. He had been fairly positive that he was never going to see his Slayer again, prepared to die in order to keep the identity of the Key secret. To awake and find her resting at his side was more than he could ever wish for and he would have starred at her peaceful face forever had his stomach not protested at it's emptiness. As much as he hated leaving the warmth that the Slayer's proximity encased him in, he knew that he would need sustenance in order to heal quickly. It was with an air of regret that he wiggled out from under her and pulled himself upright. Buffy - exhausted from the day's events - merely moaned slightly at his movement, but did not wake.

His legs, though they had not suffered the level of injury that the rest of him had, still threatened to fail him as he made his way towards the kitchen where he knew a few packets of blood were stored in the freezer. The walk to the refridgerator drained him of what little energy he had and he leaned heavily against the counter, contemplating the trek to the microwave. Really, did he need to heat up his dinner? Blood was blood whether it was hot or cold, temperature was really more of a preference than a necessity. He'd just decided that warm blood wasn't really worth the pain when a tiny voice spoke from behind him.

"Spike?" Dawn called hopefully. Her heart began to race when he turned towards her, revealing the cuts and bruises that adorned his normally pale and unmarked skin. With a strangled sob she launched herself at him, trapping him in a surprisingly strong grip for such a small girl and burying her face in his chest. "Oh Spike, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I'm sorry."

Spike grimaced in pain, but didn't move to push the sobbing girl away from him. He had suffered worse to keep her safe and he was willing to put up with a little more. "Shh, 'Bit. 'S not your fault. And hey, there's nothing to cry about. I'm still undead and kicking, aren't I? No need to get your knickers in a twist. It'll take more that some trumped up Hell God with bad hair to take down the Big Bad."

"I was so worried. I thought I'd never see you again. And I kept thinking about how you'd never make me chocolate chip pancakes or teach me another card game or, or...and it would be all my fault..." She trailed off, once again hiding her face against Spike's cool skin as tears rolled unchecked down her flushed cheeks.

"That's enough of that now, Dawn." He said firmly, pulling her face up so that she was forced to look him in the eye. With a tenderness that belied his vampiric nature, he brushed a hand over her hair and settled it on her cheek. "Nothing is your fault. Do you understand me? I would have gladly died to make sure you live, but I didn't. I'm right here. And it doesn't do to dwell on what might have been, 'Bit. Just know that I'm here now and I don't plan on ever leaving. Got it?"

She nodded and scrubbed her hands over her face, ridding her checks of the tear streaks that had marred them. "I'm tired."

"Then go back to bed, 'Bit." He said with a chuckle. "I'll still be here in the morning, yeah?"

"Yeah, you will." With a quick peck on his cheek, Dawn headed back up to her room. Still, she couldn't help throwing one more brief glance his way to assure herself that he was still there. He waited until she was completely out of sight to hobble around the counter and slouch tiredly one of the bar stools there.

"You can come out now, Slayer." Spike directed towards the darkened doorway between the dining room and the kitchen where Buffy stood in shadow. He'd been aware of her presence as he comforted Dawn, but hadn't felt the need to address it. At the moment, Dawn had needed his undivided attention.

"How are your ribs?" Buffy spoke softly. "Looked like she was squeezing you a little too hard."

"Nothing a big, evil vampire like me can't take." He tried to smirk around his split lips, but didn't quite succeed. He was racking his brain for something reassuring to say into the not uncomfortable silence when he caught sight of the water welling up in his Slayer's hazel eyes. "What's this all about, kitten. Why're you crying?"

"I woke up and you were gone." Buffy stepped into his personal space and placed a hand against his cheek. "I thought...I, I...I don't know what I thought, but I was worried." Her hand dropped from his face, falling to interlace with his own where it hung at his side. She pressed her forehead into his collarbone and mumbled against him. If it hadn't been for his superior supernatural hearing, he wouldn't have picked up the whispered plea. "Please don't leave me again."

Ignoring his protesting limps, he wrapped his arms tightly around the tiny woman and pressed her closer to him. "Never." He said with a vehemence that left no room for argument. "You'll have to dust me to get rid of me now, Slayer, 'cause I'm never letting you go. I promise you, I'll never let go."

"I can handle that." Buffy said with a watery smile. She starred into his bright blue gaze for an eternity before standing on her tiptoes and brushing her warm lips against his cool ones in a chaste kiss. Their first real kiss. "I can definitely handle that."

A/N #2 - So how was that? Was the ending okay? Review please!!