Spike watched the slayer doze on his sarcophagus. She had burst into his home reeking of magic and tears. Her façade had cracked wide open as she'd explained her needs. It hadn't come to begging because he'd found it all so amusing. He had waited for the urge to destroy her, but it hadn't come. She needed a place to feel safe. The watcher was a fool and the sorcerer had his own agenda. Her friends were too vulnerable. She was falling to pieces and it was falling to him to pick the damn things up.
"I am so sick of crazy, bloody loons wrecking my unlife," he growled. "At least this one doesn't rave about pixies or singing stars."
He looked at his current problem, sleeping the sleep of the just, the soft blankets she had brought him protecting her from the cold stone. He paced the length of the room and bit back a curse. She needed the sleep, but he wanted to shake her. The wolf was gone, the sorcerer was useless, and Angel was out there somewhere waiting to torture them all.
He sat in his purloined chair and watched her breathe. The simple rise and fall of her chest was entrancing. She brought him blood everyday and something special. He looked at the book she had brought him despite her own life eroding. It was a book of Victorian poetry. He'd flipped through it. Knew them all, but it pulled at him. She'd found him a small fridge among the leavings from some vampire gang and hauled it to him the first day. There had been an old telly the next. The blankets had come along later. She was dressing his crypt in fripperies, and he adored her for it. No one had ever been kind to him like this, not since his mum.
"Thinking about killing me again, Spike?" She asked as she stretched like a cat.
"Fills my head with wonder and joy, it does." He said, shoving up out of his chair, and ignoring her amused glance.
"You're growing on me, too. Like a fungus." She smiled and wrinkled her nose. "How can I resist when you're all grr argh?"
He snarled at her and she laughed. It was a full and lovely sound and he shook his head in wonder at his enjoyment of her mirth. He watched as her body moved a bit slower than usual. The twins were slowing her, putting her at risk. She needed help, and he was it.
He remembered watching his older sister die by inches in his human existence. Her body stretched beyond its ability with miscarriage after miscarriage. His mother had stood stoically and watched her heartless son in law remarry within three months of her daughter's passing. The agony of it had never ceased. He had killed the bastard in his first week as a vampire, made him suffer.
"Where are you?" Buffy asked. "You just spaced out there."
"Thinking, Slayer," he said snidely. "Know it's not something you're fond of doing, but some of us enjoy it."
"Yeah, yeah," she sassed him, waving her hand dismissively. "College students never have to think."
"With what passes for an education at that fine establishment shaping your brain, they shouldn't have to." He smirked and enjoyed calling forth another giggle. Drusilla would rip his intestines out if she could see him now, lap dog to a slayer. He listened to the heart beats within her and knew he would never be able to go back to his old life.
"You need to be careful, Spike. These guys were trying to take Willow from our room, and I don't know why. I need to circle the wagons, but I don't know where or what the threat is."
"Angel wouldn't hire thugs, not elegant enough. Where is Red now?"
"She's staying with a friend from some Wicca group. It's off campus. My stupid Psych TA keeps stopping by, asking about her. I'm getting tired of playing clueless roomie. I said the fraternity pranks had made her uncomfortable and she's never around anymore." She spun around on the balls of her feet. "You need another chair and a table."
"I'm a vampire, Pet."
"Too good for creature comforts?" Her raised eyebrow was warning enough to drop the subject. The blankets and ice box were nice and the telly was magnificent.
"No, focused on getting our ducks in a row. We have more enemies than we know what to do with on a normal day, and now we have commandos." He shook his head. "We could use your watcher's brain on this one."
"Done. Talked to him before I came here." She looked at the ground as fresh tears gathered in her eyes.
"Didn't tell him everything though, did you?" He watched her crumple a bit more.
"I told you I can't. Ethan even explained it." She grimaced and tossed her arms up in the air. "I am doing the best I can. I'm the slayer first. I have to keep them safe."
"So, Buffy takes the vitamins and stops to window shop outside that baby boutique near the Espresso Pump and the slayer does everything else?" He shook his head. "The man needs to be told."
"I'll tell him just as soon as it's safe. Are you coming with me or pouting?" She cocked a hip and popped her hand onto it as if he had been the one napping.
"You need me for this one, and you know it. Stealing a comatose girl from a hospital ain't exactly your wheelhouse is it, Pet?"
"The only thing you've taken from a hospital before this is blood. We're both going along with Ethan's plan." She made a face like she'd been force fed a lemon and shuddered. "We are just the muscle on this mission."