Choices

Deciding about what to do about Angel's sudden unconsciousness was interrupted by a shriek from the doorway of the library.

"Who's that idiot?" Spike asked, to which Buffy made a face.

"He's the new watcher."

"Wha' happened the old one?"

"Giles was fired."

"Really?" the vampire asked, in genuine surprise.

Before Buffy could reply, however, Wesley interrupted again by pointing a trembling finger at Spike, "Y-you… You're William the Bloody!"

"Yeah," he replied, "Already knew that."

Completely ignoring the response, the watcher then turned to his charge and exclaimed, "He's a vampire!"

"She knows that, too," Spike commented again, as Buffy heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Can you panic later? We kinda have a situation to deal with here."

"Oh, dear lord! What happened to Angel?"

The Slayer rolled her eyes. "That's what we're trying to figure out, Wes. Why don't you call Giles?"

"Giles is no longer your Watcher."

"Bloody hell," Spike spoke up again. "Are you just gonna stand there all night stating the soddin' obvious or are you actually helpful."

"I'm going to call Mr Giles," Wesley replied, then, as if it was his idea.

"Wonderful," Spike deadpanned, turning his attention back to his grandsire.

After observing Angel's condition for a few moments Giles concluded, "It's obviously some kind of poison that only affects the undead. Those are rare, so it shouldn't be difficult to look up."

"I've got it!" yelped Wesley suddenly, before standing up and handing over a book. "There's just one that's available in the Americas, and it has a cure."

"Well, look at that," Spike drawled, "He actually does something."

The younger watcher puffed out his chest in pride at the backhanded compliment, until Giles read on and happened to discover the cure was slayer blood.

He kind of deflated at that. "Oh."

"Oh indeed," Giles agreed, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

"It's simple then," Buffy interjected, "I just go get Faith and we fix this."

"I hardly think it'll be that simple," said Giles, while polishing his glasses thoughtfully.

"No other way round it, is there?" Spike commented, and the man sighed.

"I guess not. Buffy, you will be taking your new… uh," – Giles' paused to grimace – "Boyfriend with you, I take it?"

"'Course she will," Spike answered, at the same time as Buffy replied with a firm, "No."

Wesley spluttered out tea all over himself in the background, when the word boyfriend sank in.

Ignoring him, the Slayer turned to her lover and explained, "This is personal. She's my responsibility. Please, just trust me."

"Not bloody likely," the vampire exclaimed, and Giles was inclined to agree with him, but Buffy wouldn't listen.

"I'm doing this," she said. "No arguments."

'Damn her,' Spike thought, 'She bloody well knows I can't say no to her.'

"Fine," he said, aloud, before kicking a table and lighting a cigarette.

Buffy agreed she would be careful, then kissed him, and told him she loved him.

Around the couple three pairs of eyebrows shot up – as Angel had returned to consciousness at some point during the discussion.

"Did she just say she loved him?" the elder vampire asked the ex-watcher.

"I think she did," Giles replied, who was suddenly looking pale.

"I don't understand," said Wesley. But Buffy and Spike ignored all the comments as they finished their embrace.

Two hours later the Slayer returned, empty handed aside from having acquired a dagger and a limp.

"Next time I'm gonna listen to you," she half-joked, as she fell into her lover's arms.

The Slayer went home to try and decide what to do about Angel, and to tend to her wounds, except it was morning by that point, and her mother had other ideas…

Walking into the library four hours after that – none of which had been spent sleeping – Buffy wound her arms around Spike and didn't move for a solid three minutes.

"This is not how I should be spending my Saturday," she said, after finally pulling away.

"You look like hell, luv," Spike told her, while petting her hair.

"Gee, thanks," she pouted, which made him want to kiss her.

The vampire leaned in, closing his eyes to savor her scent, then whispered in her ear, "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, even now. Could just use a rest, is all. Even at your worst, Buffy, no one else comes close."

"Oh," she blushed, knowing he meant it. "Well, that's okay then. I guess."

"Bloody adorable, too," Spike added – touching his lips to hers.

"Can you stop?" asked Angel, in a brief moment of lucidly.

"No," the younger vampire answered, with a grin.

"Okay," Buffy interrupted, with a smile of her own, "You're enjoying his misery a little too much."

"Force a habit," he shrugged. "So, how was home?"

"Ugh!" the Slayer groaned.

"That good, huh?"

"My mom chose today to sit me down and ask me about my future plans. Can you believe that?"

"Yeah, pet, I can."

"Shut up," she countered, halfheartedly, while massaging her temples.

"Aww, luv, come 'ere," he soothed, taking over the action for her.

The Slayer sighed at his caress, then finally gave voice to the words they both knew were coming.

"I have to help Angel," she said.

"Nothing you can do," said Spike.

The vampire in question said nothing, as he'd passed out again.

Buffy pushed her boyfriend's hands away and stood up, readying herself for an argument. "There is something I can do, and you know it. I'm going to."

"Buffy, no," Spike protested, trying to take hold of her again. "What happened to you listening to me next time, eh?"

"I can't let him die," she pleaded, with tears in her eyes, and it damn well near made him sick. "There isn't any other way but for him to feed on me."

What could he say to that?

"Fuck," he decided, when he finally did respond. "What if he takes too much?"

"He won't. You won't let him."

Spike swore again, wondering how he was going to watch such a thing and not rip his grandsire's teeth out. There was no point trying to convince her to let the poor bastard die, so he had as little choice in the matter as his girl.

"How are we doing this?" he asked, after being silent for a while.

"We're doing it here. Now."

"Don't want to wait for the watchers?"

"Hell no."

"Right…"

Spike held Angel's head up, waiting for the next window of clarity to come by, muttering, "You don't deserve this," to him, as he did so. Then the time came.

"What's happening?" asked the elder vampire.

"You're gonna take some blood," explained Spike, so calmly he shocked himself. "Take just enough to sort yourself out, and then seal the wound. Alright?"

"But- Buffy?"

"Don't bloody well argue with us. I'm sure as hell not gonna sit here and convince you to drink from her."

"Tilt his head more," said Buffy – fully in Slayer mode – then she leant in close, and waited for instinct to take over.

It didn't take long. Angel bit into her throat hard, and she gasped and gripped Spike's arm hard in response.

"Take it easy you stupid bastard," Spike snapped, knowing the force was completely unnecessary, but Angel was too caught up in the act to hear anything. He just drank and drank, until Spike had to literally yank his mouth away and seal the wound himself.

"You fucking sick, evil, wanker!" Spike yelled at Angel, while delivering a kick to his solar plexus. "You coulda killed her!"

"Spike," Buffy rasped, as she held her hand to her throat. "Leave him, come here."

He went to her side, of course, and held her tight, while muttering apologies.

"What are you sorry for?" she asked, "It worked."

"He could have killed you!" Spike said again, before adding, "Knew he had piss poor control, but I shoulda been more in charge." Tears welled in his eyes, as he thought about how he could have lost her, then he tightened his hold on her. "Promise me you'll never do that again."

"I can't."

"What?" he pulled away, completely horrified. "Buffy-"

"I wouldn't do it again for him," she clarified, cutting him off. "But for you? I would."

"Buffy." He was crying again. Spike was crying, and he didn't care at all that Angel was watching him. He was totally caught up in love with the woman before him.

To be continued...