Title: Tainted Blood
Author: Corri
Email: Corrielle@yahoo.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Up to "Normal Again"
Summary: Set directly following the events of "Normal Again." Spike is sick, and when the gang finally figures out that only Buffy can save him, she has to decide how valuable Spike is to her.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and UPN.
Feedback: Please!
Author's note: This is my first actually FINISHED Buffy Fanfic. It's more of a Buffy/Spike
friendship piece than an actual romance
Chapter 1
"Spike! Why didn't you do this before I got here? You knew what time I was coming." Buffy put her hands on her hips and tapped her foot impatiently. It was bad enough that Willow and Spike had convinced her to take him on patrol just in case she had a relapse into mental patient-ville. Now, he just had to make her wait.
"I was out an' about, I'll have you know!" Spike said. "Didn't have time to eat before now."
"Couldn't you wait until after we're done?" she asked.
"I'm hungry now. Besides, I get all distracted if I'm hungry. Wouldn't want that during a fight, now would you?"
"Fine. Just hurry up."
Spike opened the refrigerator and felt around behind the beer bottles until he found what he was looking for. He vamped out, and was about to sink his teeth into the bag before he remembered that he was being a terrible host.
"You want something too? I think I've still got some of that mint chocolate chip ice cream you brought over here," he asked tentatively. Buffy blinked in surprise. From the look of the crypt, Spike had cleared away every reminder of their... whatever they'd had (it sure wasn't a relationship). It appeared he'd missed a few things.
"Ew... no. That's like two weeks old," she told him.
"I didn't know ice cream went bad. Sorry. Promise I wasn't trying to poison you," he joked. He looked hopefully at her, thinking he'd get at least a smile. She just looked thoughtful.
"I guess it doesn't. Dawn and I have probably had ice cream in the freezer for WAY longer than that. I'm still not hungry though. I don't like to eat before patrol."
"Maybe you can take it home with you. You and the Niblet can share it," Spike suggested.
"Sure. Are you going to eat, or are you just going to stand there holding the blood bag all night?"
Spike snarled at her and bit into his dinner. He didn't like having her watch him eat, but she wasn't going to go away, so he made the best of a bad situation and finished quickly.
"Satisfied?" Buffy asked.
"Not really," he answered, leering at her. She just rolled her eyes and walked out of the crypt, taking for granted that he was behind her. Spike burped and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand.
"Hey, wait up, Pet!"
................................
Only one more cemetery. Just stay upright for one more cemetery, Spike thought to himself as he walked beside Buffy. It hadn't been a particularly difficult night, but for some reason he felt as if every muscle in his body had been pulled or ripped or otherwise maimed. He ached all over, and he could have sworn he was experiencing something he remembered as nausea. He hadn't let on to Buffy that he was feeling poorly, and if she noticed that Spike was quieter than usual, she didn't show it.
The vampires came from both sides. There were three of them – larger than most, but not necessarily smarter. The first one went immediately for Buffy. She batted away the arms that threatened to crush her, dodged out of his way, and staked him from behind. Spike stepped into the path of the second vampire before it could reach her, but a vicious kick in the chest sent him tumbling to the ground. He tried to spring up and show the bloke who he was messing with, but found that he couldn't. The world was spinning and he couldn't seem to make his legs respond.
The vampire who had just knocked Spike to the ground sprang at Buffy and became intimately acquainted with her stake, disappearing in a cloud of dust. Meanwhile, the third creature had discovered Spike's momentary disorientation. He had barely begun to get his legs back under him when the vampire sent him sprawling. Vamp number three was having so much fun, he didn't even feel the stake that dusted him.
"Pick on someone your own size," Buffy muttered to the pile of dust. She saw that Spike was having trouble standing up, but made no move to help him. "What was that?" she asked. "I thought you were supposed to be the one watching my back, not the other way around."
"I liked to think we were watching each others... backs," Spike said, and winked at her, unable to pass up the opportunity to needle his Slayer.
"You know what I mean. You also know I can't concentrate if I'm trying to protect someone. So, why don't you just go home."
"I'm fine, Buffy," he insisted. He would have been very persuasive had he not tottered slightly as he said it.
"Look, Spike, that vamp got you pretty bad. See? You can barely stand up. Go home."
"Aren't you going to offer to escort a poor helpless boy back to safety?" he asked.
"You are neither poor nor helpless. Now GO!" she ordered. She didn't stay and watch Spike limp out of sight.
Walking back to his crypt, Spike tried to make his mind focus. The one vampire he'd fought hadn't hit him that hard. Normally, he would have recovered easily from such a blow. No, Buffy was wrong. It wasn't just the vampire. Something else was wrong, but Spike couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was. He'd been fine when he left the crypt, so what had happened?
He was still wondering when he stumbled into his crypt and fell onto the bed and into a shallow, restless sleep.
