Title:
Author: Camilla
Email: bananacosmicgirll@hotmail.com
Author's note: This is my first Buffy-fanfic. Sorry if it isn't very good, but I wanted to try to write one.
Hopefully, my next one is better. Please review.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of these Buffy characters; they belong to Josh Whendon.
"Oh God," Spike exclaimed as he fell, head first, through the elevator doors. He landed with a thump on the top
of the elevator and turned his head just in time to see Glory's minions turn away from the elevator to run down
the stairs. His head felt like it was going to explode, his body hurt worse than it had ever before. There were cuts
and bruises all over his body, and whether he lay still or moved, it burned and scratched all the way from his
bruised forehead, swollen eyes, split lip and down to his tortured legs and feet.
In his mind he had only one thing: escape. He turned around and opened the door on top of the elevator, and
then he let his body drop through, down on the elevator floor. As he tried to stand up, he saw the minions come
down.
"You do not insult Glory by escaping," one of them yelled at him.
That very second, the doors on the other side of the room slid open, and Buffy and Xander came in. Buffy had
her crossbow and she immediately shot one of the minions with it. Spike felt himself drain of whatever power
had held him up so far, and he slumped against the wall as the fight continued. Through a hazy fog, he saw his
robot, the Buffybot, come in too, with the Slayer's watcher in tow. Then, unable to stay conscious any longer, he
let his eyes shut and a welcomed blackness surrounded him.
He was awakened by a rough shake. Before anything else registered, the pain did. Pain that shot through every
vein of his body. Oh bloody hell, he thought, trying to get concentrate on something else, so that the pain would
go away.
"Spike, wake up," a female voice said.
He didn't even try to respond; he knew he couldn't. His lips felt swollen and he had blood in his mouth.
The fog that had been in front of his eyes slowly disappeared, and he saw people around him. Buffy was there,
her watcher, and Xander. The Slayer was the closest; she was the one who'd told him to wake up in the first
place. He heard her speak again.
"He's not gonna be able to walk even if we get him to wake up," she said, concerned. "But we need to get out
of here, now."
She looked at Giles and Xander, both standing beside the seemingly unconscious Spike. The minions had
disappeared up the stairs just a little while ago, and it was just a matter of time before the Hellgod herself came
down to kill them.
Buffy looked at Spike one last time. She didn't notice that he had his one not-so-swollen eye half-open, and
therefore said to Giles, "I'm gonna carry him."
"Buffy, are you nuts?" Xander asked. "I mean…"
"I'm not nuts, but we need to get out of here now, and if Spike can't walk…" She hated the thought of having to
carry the vampire all the way home, but she didn't have a choice. She couldn't leave him for Glory to take, then
he would, if he hadn't already, tell her about Dawn. Which led her to the other question; How would she know if
he had already told Glory? If he had, she and especially Dawn were in great danger.
"Come on," she said. She put one arm around Spike's shoulders, and one under his knees. He groaned in pain
when she touched him, and squirmed like a child in her arms. Xander thought it looked extremely weird with the
tiny Buffy, lifting a heavy grown man like Spike. But he didn't say anything.
"Let's go," Buffy said.
Buffy put down Spike on the sofa in her basement. He was completely quiet, and she guessed that he had lost
consciousness again. She walked over to his feet and carefully took of his boots and socks to make him more
comfortable. Even his feet were covered by cuts and bruises.
She certainly didn't leave out any possible part to torture, Buffy thought. She looked over the rest of his body.
His black shirt was ripped and she could se a round hole and a slash from a knife over his chest. Wandering up to
stand by his face, she saw a face that didn't resemble at all to the vampire she knew. His one eye was swollen, his
lower lip split and he had a deep ugly cut above his left eyebrow. There were also minor cuts and bruises all
over, and more than half his face was turning a purplish color as it was swelling. Without even thinking, she
reached out and touched the right side of his face, which wasn't as badly battered. He moved at her touch.
"No…" he whispered. "I'll nev'r tell who… the soddin' 'ey is… Get off…"
He seemed to have trouble forming the words, which didn't surprise Buffy, although she could hear what he
said clearly.
"Spike," she said quietly. He moved his head slightly at her words and his eyelids started to flutter. It took him
a minute, but he opened his eyes as much as he could – which wasn't much when it came to his swollen one.
"Slayer," he said and attempted to sit up but he didn't have enough power, so Buffy helped him. Now he sat
leaned back, powerless, and Buffy was standing right in front of him.
"Yeah, that's me," she said, her tone sounding a little harsher than needed. "And now you are going to tell me,
what happened at Glory's."
He took a second before he answered. He licked his dry lips before he spoke.
"The bloody bitch wanted to know who the key is," he said slowly.
Buffy felt herself grab instinctively for her stake. If Spike had said one word to Glory about Dawn, he was
going to be dust, no matter how much she'd miss him.
Miss him? she thought. Where did that thought come from? She wouldn't miss him if she dusted him… Or
would she?
"If you said one word…" Buffy started, but Spike shook his head.
"No, Slayer, I didn't. Of course I bloody didn't. When are you going to gonna understand that I won't give you
away!? That I'm on your soddin' side! That I love you!"
Spike's head fell back on the couch, and his eyes closed. Just talking hurt his body, and right now, the last thing
he needed was the Slayer breathing down his neck and then dusting him for something he hadn't done. Or maybe
it would be better. He'd get out of this sodding life, not have to deal with his stupid chip, or with Buffy, or with
torturing Hellgods or stupid bloody non-returned love.
Suddenly, he felt Buffy's hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes. The touch hurt but he didn't care. It felt good.
She drew back.
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Spike," she said, and for the first time, she sounded like she meant it. "You're
right, you are on my side. And on Dawn's."
Spike leaned forward, and suddenly, his face was just inches away from hers. She stretched her head forward
and met his bruised lips. Her lips were soft and warm unlike his, he thought. She tasted sweet and he wanted
more. But instead, she pulled back and ended the kiss.
"Thank you, Spike," she said.
Silence fell, and Buffy wondered if kissing him had been the wrong thing to do. It had been a spur of the
moment thing; she didn't know where it had come from. Although his lips had been cold, they still burned on
hers. They had tasted of blood, and there had been a faint flavor of cigarettes. Why had she done it? Why had she
had to complicate things even further, when the lines between her and Spike already were so incredibly
uncertain? She wanted him now, at the same time as she was repulsed by herself because of that same want. Oh
God, what had she done?
Finally, she broke the silence, her cheeks red.
"Lie down, Spike. You need to sleep and heal."
Before obeying the Slayer's words though, Spike asked, "Is that all?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, although she knew very well what he meant.
"Is that kiss all you're going to give me?"
"Spike…" she started. She didn't know what to say next, because she didn't know what she felt and she didn't
know what it was she was going to do now. "I don't know. Please, give me time. For now, that's all you get.
We'll see, but it is so complicated…" Her voice sounded small. "You have proven that you love me today, but
there is so much outside of that that I need to forgive first, before anything else. Please, understand," she pleaded
with him.
He looked at her, and she couldn't see anything there but love in his eyes. She hoped that he would wait for her.
He raised his hand to her cheek, and winced of pain as he did so. "I'll wait for the rest of my bloody un-life for
you," he said.
Then she helped him lay down again. Buffy pulled the blanket over him, and he was fast asleep. Before
leaving, she bent down and kissed his cheek. "Sleep tight," she said and walked out of the room to fix blood and
wipes to clean the wounds, all for her sleeping vampire.
The End
Author: Camilla
Email: bananacosmicgirll@hotmail.com
Author's note: This is my first Buffy-fanfic. Sorry if it isn't very good, but I wanted to try to write one.
Hopefully, my next one is better. Please review.
Disclaimers: I don't own any of these Buffy characters; they belong to Josh Whendon.
"Oh God," Spike exclaimed as he fell, head first, through the elevator doors. He landed with a thump on the top
of the elevator and turned his head just in time to see Glory's minions turn away from the elevator to run down
the stairs. His head felt like it was going to explode, his body hurt worse than it had ever before. There were cuts
and bruises all over his body, and whether he lay still or moved, it burned and scratched all the way from his
bruised forehead, swollen eyes, split lip and down to his tortured legs and feet.
In his mind he had only one thing: escape. He turned around and opened the door on top of the elevator, and
then he let his body drop through, down on the elevator floor. As he tried to stand up, he saw the minions come
down.
"You do not insult Glory by escaping," one of them yelled at him.
That very second, the doors on the other side of the room slid open, and Buffy and Xander came in. Buffy had
her crossbow and she immediately shot one of the minions with it. Spike felt himself drain of whatever power
had held him up so far, and he slumped against the wall as the fight continued. Through a hazy fog, he saw his
robot, the Buffybot, come in too, with the Slayer's watcher in tow. Then, unable to stay conscious any longer, he
let his eyes shut and a welcomed blackness surrounded him.
He was awakened by a rough shake. Before anything else registered, the pain did. Pain that shot through every
vein of his body. Oh bloody hell, he thought, trying to get concentrate on something else, so that the pain would
go away.
"Spike, wake up," a female voice said.
He didn't even try to respond; he knew he couldn't. His lips felt swollen and he had blood in his mouth.
The fog that had been in front of his eyes slowly disappeared, and he saw people around him. Buffy was there,
her watcher, and Xander. The Slayer was the closest; she was the one who'd told him to wake up in the first
place. He heard her speak again.
"He's not gonna be able to walk even if we get him to wake up," she said, concerned. "But we need to get out
of here, now."
She looked at Giles and Xander, both standing beside the seemingly unconscious Spike. The minions had
disappeared up the stairs just a little while ago, and it was just a matter of time before the Hellgod herself came
down to kill them.
Buffy looked at Spike one last time. She didn't notice that he had his one not-so-swollen eye half-open, and
therefore said to Giles, "I'm gonna carry him."
"Buffy, are you nuts?" Xander asked. "I mean…"
"I'm not nuts, but we need to get out of here now, and if Spike can't walk…" She hated the thought of having to
carry the vampire all the way home, but she didn't have a choice. She couldn't leave him for Glory to take, then
he would, if he hadn't already, tell her about Dawn. Which led her to the other question; How would she know if
he had already told Glory? If he had, she and especially Dawn were in great danger.
"Come on," she said. She put one arm around Spike's shoulders, and one under his knees. He groaned in pain
when she touched him, and squirmed like a child in her arms. Xander thought it looked extremely weird with the
tiny Buffy, lifting a heavy grown man like Spike. But he didn't say anything.
"Let's go," Buffy said.
Buffy put down Spike on the sofa in her basement. He was completely quiet, and she guessed that he had lost
consciousness again. She walked over to his feet and carefully took of his boots and socks to make him more
comfortable. Even his feet were covered by cuts and bruises.
She certainly didn't leave out any possible part to torture, Buffy thought. She looked over the rest of his body.
His black shirt was ripped and she could se a round hole and a slash from a knife over his chest. Wandering up to
stand by his face, she saw a face that didn't resemble at all to the vampire she knew. His one eye was swollen, his
lower lip split and he had a deep ugly cut above his left eyebrow. There were also minor cuts and bruises all
over, and more than half his face was turning a purplish color as it was swelling. Without even thinking, she
reached out and touched the right side of his face, which wasn't as badly battered. He moved at her touch.
"No…" he whispered. "I'll nev'r tell who… the soddin' 'ey is… Get off…"
He seemed to have trouble forming the words, which didn't surprise Buffy, although she could hear what he
said clearly.
"Spike," she said quietly. He moved his head slightly at her words and his eyelids started to flutter. It took him
a minute, but he opened his eyes as much as he could – which wasn't much when it came to his swollen one.
"Slayer," he said and attempted to sit up but he didn't have enough power, so Buffy helped him. Now he sat
leaned back, powerless, and Buffy was standing right in front of him.
"Yeah, that's me," she said, her tone sounding a little harsher than needed. "And now you are going to tell me,
what happened at Glory's."
He took a second before he answered. He licked his dry lips before he spoke.
"The bloody bitch wanted to know who the key is," he said slowly.
Buffy felt herself grab instinctively for her stake. If Spike had said one word to Glory about Dawn, he was
going to be dust, no matter how much she'd miss him.
Miss him? she thought. Where did that thought come from? She wouldn't miss him if she dusted him… Or
would she?
"If you said one word…" Buffy started, but Spike shook his head.
"No, Slayer, I didn't. Of course I bloody didn't. When are you going to gonna understand that I won't give you
away!? That I'm on your soddin' side! That I love you!"
Spike's head fell back on the couch, and his eyes closed. Just talking hurt his body, and right now, the last thing
he needed was the Slayer breathing down his neck and then dusting him for something he hadn't done. Or maybe
it would be better. He'd get out of this sodding life, not have to deal with his stupid chip, or with Buffy, or with
torturing Hellgods or stupid bloody non-returned love.
Suddenly, he felt Buffy's hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes. The touch hurt but he didn't care. It felt good.
She drew back.
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Spike," she said, and for the first time, she sounded like she meant it. "You're
right, you are on my side. And on Dawn's."
Spike leaned forward, and suddenly, his face was just inches away from hers. She stretched her head forward
and met his bruised lips. Her lips were soft and warm unlike his, he thought. She tasted sweet and he wanted
more. But instead, she pulled back and ended the kiss.
"Thank you, Spike," she said.
Silence fell, and Buffy wondered if kissing him had been the wrong thing to do. It had been a spur of the
moment thing; she didn't know where it had come from. Although his lips had been cold, they still burned on
hers. They had tasted of blood, and there had been a faint flavor of cigarettes. Why had she done it? Why had she
had to complicate things even further, when the lines between her and Spike already were so incredibly
uncertain? She wanted him now, at the same time as she was repulsed by herself because of that same want. Oh
God, what had she done?
Finally, she broke the silence, her cheeks red.
"Lie down, Spike. You need to sleep and heal."
Before obeying the Slayer's words though, Spike asked, "Is that all?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, although she knew very well what he meant.
"Is that kiss all you're going to give me?"
"Spike…" she started. She didn't know what to say next, because she didn't know what she felt and she didn't
know what it was she was going to do now. "I don't know. Please, give me time. For now, that's all you get.
We'll see, but it is so complicated…" Her voice sounded small. "You have proven that you love me today, but
there is so much outside of that that I need to forgive first, before anything else. Please, understand," she pleaded
with him.
He looked at her, and she couldn't see anything there but love in his eyes. She hoped that he would wait for her.
He raised his hand to her cheek, and winced of pain as he did so. "I'll wait for the rest of my bloody un-life for
you," he said.
Then she helped him lay down again. Buffy pulled the blanket over him, and he was fast asleep. Before
leaving, she bent down and kissed his cheek. "Sleep tight," she said and walked out of the room to fix blood and
wipes to clean the wounds, all for her sleeping vampire.
The End