Kiss the Flame: Sequel to Burning Vortex by PNS
The room was icy cold. But Buffy didn't mind. She liked it. Anything that wasn't hot was good. She still couldn't go near the stove or candles, not that she could really, covered in bandages. Behind her Spike cleared his throat. Her thoughts were brought back to the night. She sat back down in the chair.
"What book are you reading tonight?" She asked slowly. It was still painful.
"The Great Gatsby."
"Finally. An American book."
"I'm rather proud of my heritage thank you." He grinned at her. She smiled back. Ouch.
"I'm not really in the mood to read tonight." That surprised him. Ever since The Day he had read to her. She had sat and listened each time. Everyone else worried about her but since The Day she and Spike had a connection and she had refused to be cared for by anyone else. How could they understand? They hadn't been in the fire with her.
"What do you want to do?"
"Slay."
"We discussed this already." He closed the book and put it on the coffee table. "You can't Slay. Giles said you couldn't and the doctors said to take it easy until they take the bandages off, at least."
"I'm the Slayer. I'm supposed to heal faster."
"You are. But it's not instantaneous." He was patient with her.
"What about Glory? I don't want to depend on the rest of you. Not while Dawn's still in danger." Her lip turned up as she pronounced her sister's name. Still hard feelings there.
"We won't worry about it until it happens." She stood up painfully, and walked away from him, into the shadows of the crypt.
"Why are you being so nice? Part of you must be happy seeing a Slayer like this, even if it is me." Since the fire she had accepted that he loved her, though not without a big grain of salt. She wasn't expecting an answer. He had none to give other than the answers he always gave.
"Are you in much pain?"
"Not now. It's only when I wake up in the morning and see the dried blood and bandages, then it hurts." Her fingers cushioned her face for a moment. The smaller bandages held in the worst of the damage but Spike could see pink lines on the edges.
"Actually, I think I want to read." He opened the book again and cleared his throat. His voice was tender and clear as always. The words rolled off his tongue, mesmerizing her until the rest of the world fell away.
Her eyelids drooped and he closed the book. "Keep reading."
"You're going to fall asleep. My throat hurts."
"Sing to me then?"
"What?" He looked at her, his cheeks becoming a deeper shade of pale. "I don't sing."
"I've heard you. You sang to me in the hospital."
"You heard that?" He bit his lip. "Well it was only cos I um I-" He couldn't think of anything.
"Save it Spike. You have a nice voice."
"What do you want pet?" he conceded. He wasn't going to win.
"What's that one you always sing? My Way."
"Yeah. By the Ramones."
"No. Sing it the Frank Way."
"Frank Sinatra? That's more of Angel's nancy boy style." Spike glared at Buffy, forgetting his vow momentarily. And now, the end is here And so I face the final curtain..." Buffy slid down in the chair and looked happy, almost peaceful.
"I should go home."
"I'll take you. Then I'll patrol."
"I'm almost strong enough to go home alone."
"Soon enough." She stood up sleepily and he walked over to her and took her arm. Then they left the crypt and ventured out into the cemetery.
"I'm going to the doctor's on Friday...Will you take me?"
"What?" He was content reading to her in the privacy of his crypt, singing even if that got her better but this was the next step entirely. "If you can answer me this question." His voice was low and soft. Sad. "If there hadn't been a fire, and I hadn't rescued you, would you still need me?"
She was quiet. He was furious. He knew it. He had been kidding himself. She only was with him because he didn't feel sorry for her. And he didn't make her feel the way the others did. Like it was the end of the world.
"I would."
"You would?" The time had been endless. He had assumed it was a no. He was thrown.
"I think so." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "You've never lied to me. And you've never expected anything less than perfection from me. Even now. You see through any wall I build. How can you not mean something to me when no one else can do that?"
"No. I asked you would you need me."
"You protect Dawn. You have super powers."
"I didn't ask would Dawn need more. Or the cause of good. Would You Buffy Summers need me?" He stopped and looked into her eyes. They were threatening to cry.
"I need you now. Can't that be enough? This is the path. What ifs don't count." She pulled him closer. Her bandages scratched his skin but he wouldn't complain. Not for the world. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
"I'll be by at 10." He pulled her away. She looked at him in confusion. He sighed. "I can't do this to you now. You're vulnerable. Wouldn't be right."
"For a vampire you sure are chivalrous. Goodnight." She went inside. As Spike walked home he was attacked by a gang but he staked them disheartened. He sat down on his tombstone and sighed deeply.
*I had her in the palm of my evil hand and I couldn't do anything. I hope the chip hasn't taken away my manhood along with my life.* But he knew it hadn't. Inside him the demon was dying and something else was battling for its place.
Friday morning spike picked Buffy up in his blackened car. She didn't say anything about it as they drove to the hospital. Then he raced inside with her and beat out the flames. She yelped in fear when he burst into flames but it was an old game for him. Spike simply shrugged it off and guided her upstairs.
Once in the office he waited in the lobby while she went into one of the rooms. He flipped through a magazine. He wondered what the doctor was telling her. And what he was doing. A surge of protection went through him and he stood up to pace.
"What are they doing to her exactly?"
"Taking off some of the bandages and looking at the skin graphs." He thought of her arms. How the bandages covered them. He hoped she wouldn't try to slay. He sat down again. She appeared a little later. Her hair covered her face. He cringed at the scars on her arms and legs. There was a bandage or two left.
"I want to go home."
"Sure. Sure." He reached out and touched her arm. She drew it back.
"Don't touch me."
"Do you want breakfast? Lunch?"
"No. Let's just go home."
"To yours...or mine?"
"Yours. I don't want to see Dawn." He decided at that moment, against his better judgement to pull back her hair. His hand reached out and exposed her face. She turned in shock. "How dare you!"
"Buffy! I was going to have to see it."
"Why? Why can't I hide!?"
"Because the world doesn't work that way." He was patient, as ever. She grabbed his arm and twisted it with a grunt of pain. "That make you feel better?"
"How ugly am I? Huh? How disgusting are they? How hideous am I." She sobbed. Into his arms. "Tell me." He looked at her. Really looked. The pretty girl he had fallen in love with, she was gone. Replaced. And she was replaced with someone he loved even more. Scars and all. The blotches and puffiness. It was all part of her.
"You're beautiful." He leaned down and kissed her. With all his heart and soul he kissed her. She pulled him close and clawed at his silken red shirt.
"God. I love you so much." She pulled away and wiped the tears from her face. Then she gave him a wavering smile.
"I've been waiting so long to hear you say that." She slipped her and into his and they hurried outside to avoid the harsh unforgiving sun.
The room was icy cold. But Buffy didn't mind. She liked it. Anything that wasn't hot was good. She still couldn't go near the stove or candles, not that she could really, covered in bandages. Behind her Spike cleared his throat. Her thoughts were brought back to the night. She sat back down in the chair.
"What book are you reading tonight?" She asked slowly. It was still painful.
"The Great Gatsby."
"Finally. An American book."
"I'm rather proud of my heritage thank you." He grinned at her. She smiled back. Ouch.
"I'm not really in the mood to read tonight." That surprised him. Ever since The Day he had read to her. She had sat and listened each time. Everyone else worried about her but since The Day she and Spike had a connection and she had refused to be cared for by anyone else. How could they understand? They hadn't been in the fire with her.
"What do you want to do?"
"Slay."
"We discussed this already." He closed the book and put it on the coffee table. "You can't Slay. Giles said you couldn't and the doctors said to take it easy until they take the bandages off, at least."
"I'm the Slayer. I'm supposed to heal faster."
"You are. But it's not instantaneous." He was patient with her.
"What about Glory? I don't want to depend on the rest of you. Not while Dawn's still in danger." Her lip turned up as she pronounced her sister's name. Still hard feelings there.
"We won't worry about it until it happens." She stood up painfully, and walked away from him, into the shadows of the crypt.
"Why are you being so nice? Part of you must be happy seeing a Slayer like this, even if it is me." Since the fire she had accepted that he loved her, though not without a big grain of salt. She wasn't expecting an answer. He had none to give other than the answers he always gave.
"Are you in much pain?"
"Not now. It's only when I wake up in the morning and see the dried blood and bandages, then it hurts." Her fingers cushioned her face for a moment. The smaller bandages held in the worst of the damage but Spike could see pink lines on the edges.
"Actually, I think I want to read." He opened the book again and cleared his throat. His voice was tender and clear as always. The words rolled off his tongue, mesmerizing her until the rest of the world fell away.
Her eyelids drooped and he closed the book. "Keep reading."
"You're going to fall asleep. My throat hurts."
"Sing to me then?"
"What?" He looked at her, his cheeks becoming a deeper shade of pale. "I don't sing."
"I've heard you. You sang to me in the hospital."
"You heard that?" He bit his lip. "Well it was only cos I um I-" He couldn't think of anything.
"Save it Spike. You have a nice voice."
"What do you want pet?" he conceded. He wasn't going to win.
"What's that one you always sing? My Way."
"Yeah. By the Ramones."
"No. Sing it the Frank Way."
"Frank Sinatra? That's more of Angel's nancy boy style." Spike glared at Buffy, forgetting his vow momentarily. And now, the end is here And so I face the final curtain..." Buffy slid down in the chair and looked happy, almost peaceful.
"I should go home."
"I'll take you. Then I'll patrol."
"I'm almost strong enough to go home alone."
"Soon enough." She stood up sleepily and he walked over to her and took her arm. Then they left the crypt and ventured out into the cemetery.
"I'm going to the doctor's on Friday...Will you take me?"
"What?" He was content reading to her in the privacy of his crypt, singing even if that got her better but this was the next step entirely. "If you can answer me this question." His voice was low and soft. Sad. "If there hadn't been a fire, and I hadn't rescued you, would you still need me?"
She was quiet. He was furious. He knew it. He had been kidding himself. She only was with him because he didn't feel sorry for her. And he didn't make her feel the way the others did. Like it was the end of the world.
"I would."
"You would?" The time had been endless. He had assumed it was a no. He was thrown.
"I think so." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "You've never lied to me. And you've never expected anything less than perfection from me. Even now. You see through any wall I build. How can you not mean something to me when no one else can do that?"
"No. I asked you would you need me."
"You protect Dawn. You have super powers."
"I didn't ask would Dawn need more. Or the cause of good. Would You Buffy Summers need me?" He stopped and looked into her eyes. They were threatening to cry.
"I need you now. Can't that be enough? This is the path. What ifs don't count." She pulled him closer. Her bandages scratched his skin but he wouldn't complain. Not for the world. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
"I'll be by at 10." He pulled her away. She looked at him in confusion. He sighed. "I can't do this to you now. You're vulnerable. Wouldn't be right."
"For a vampire you sure are chivalrous. Goodnight." She went inside. As Spike walked home he was attacked by a gang but he staked them disheartened. He sat down on his tombstone and sighed deeply.
*I had her in the palm of my evil hand and I couldn't do anything. I hope the chip hasn't taken away my manhood along with my life.* But he knew it hadn't. Inside him the demon was dying and something else was battling for its place.
Friday morning spike picked Buffy up in his blackened car. She didn't say anything about it as they drove to the hospital. Then he raced inside with her and beat out the flames. She yelped in fear when he burst into flames but it was an old game for him. Spike simply shrugged it off and guided her upstairs.
Once in the office he waited in the lobby while she went into one of the rooms. He flipped through a magazine. He wondered what the doctor was telling her. And what he was doing. A surge of protection went through him and he stood up to pace.
"What are they doing to her exactly?"
"Taking off some of the bandages and looking at the skin graphs." He thought of her arms. How the bandages covered them. He hoped she wouldn't try to slay. He sat down again. She appeared a little later. Her hair covered her face. He cringed at the scars on her arms and legs. There was a bandage or two left.
"I want to go home."
"Sure. Sure." He reached out and touched her arm. She drew it back.
"Don't touch me."
"Do you want breakfast? Lunch?"
"No. Let's just go home."
"To yours...or mine?"
"Yours. I don't want to see Dawn." He decided at that moment, against his better judgement to pull back her hair. His hand reached out and exposed her face. She turned in shock. "How dare you!"
"Buffy! I was going to have to see it."
"Why? Why can't I hide!?"
"Because the world doesn't work that way." He was patient, as ever. She grabbed his arm and twisted it with a grunt of pain. "That make you feel better?"
"How ugly am I? Huh? How disgusting are they? How hideous am I." She sobbed. Into his arms. "Tell me." He looked at her. Really looked. The pretty girl he had fallen in love with, she was gone. Replaced. And she was replaced with someone he loved even more. Scars and all. The blotches and puffiness. It was all part of her.
"You're beautiful." He leaned down and kissed her. With all his heart and soul he kissed her. She pulled him close and clawed at his silken red shirt.
"God. I love you so much." She pulled away and wiped the tears from her face. Then she gave him a wavering smile.
"I've been waiting so long to hear you say that." She slipped her and into his and they hurried outside to avoid the harsh unforgiving sun.