Chapter 22 - Questions, Answers, and More Questions

Margot stood at the doorway of the makeshift hospital, and looked at her guests. She took in the scene before her eyes with a deep sense of satisfaction and hope.

"Pleased with yourself?"

She didn't turn as she heard the words.

"Yes," she replied.

"It's cheating, you know," her companion replied. She turned at these words, and regarded the green face calmly, looking into the red eyes to see if she could discern whether or not he really believed that. With a shrug, Margot seemed to melt, her shape and colour changing until the form of the Phoenix stood in her place.

"I'm not cheating," he stated. "I'm merely providing opportunity."

"You're making this personal."

"If you'd spent all that time on that world, you'd take its future personally, too."

Jared nodded, understanding apparent on his features.

"So, how are they doing?"

"Well, I think. Buffy certainly did as I hoped. I simply have to see how Spike reacts now."

He stood aside, allowing Jared to observe the two creatures, wrapped around one another as they slept.

"Strange," Jared commented. "We've taken every vestige of their history from them, every memory we could find, yet they still reach for one another. For what it's worth, I think they are worthy representatives of their world."

"They are," the Phoenix agreed. "But, that has never been enough."

Buffy couldn't remember being so cold before. She shivered as she woke, and found herself lying on top of Spike's body. They were still in the barn, and it was pitch black. It took her a while to realise the significance of cold. She had gone to sleep, aware that the night air was cooling rapidly, but the heat exuding from a fevered Spike had been more than enough to warm her. That warmth was gone, replaced by a normal, human warmth which wasn't enough for the cool air. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and she guessed it would soon be daylight.

She got up and stretched, feeling strength in her limbs for the first time in weeks. She looked around the barn, surprised to find that someone, Margot she assumed, had lit a fire in the corner. It seemed to be a hastily adapted arrangement, with a makeshift chimney, but the air close to the fire was noticeably warmer. Making her decision, Buffy dragged Spike's bed closer to the only source of heat, and pulled another bed alongside it. She then took blankets from a number of other beds, and piled them onto the two she had moved. Happy she had done as much as she could, she got into the second bed, and pulled the blankets around her.

When she awoke next, it was morning. She opened her eyes, to see Spike's observing her. "Bloke could get used to this," he drawled, something like his usual manner returned.

"What? What're you talking about?"

"Second time I've woken with you curled next to me. Could get used to it, that's all I said."

"Oh," was all she managed in reply. As an afterthought, she managed, "Morning, Spike. Feeling better?"

"Weak as a bloody new-born lamb, but, yeah, feeling better."

The dreams he'd had were amazing. He couldn't remember ever having dreams like them. He flexed his leg, and a spasm of pain hit him. So, that part of the dream was certainly true. He glanced at Buffy again, but found himself unable to hold her gaze for long. He dropped his eyes and spotted her wrist, still bandaged from the night before. He stared for a second, and then memory assailed him at full power. He could taste her blood, fresh on his tongue, it's unique flavour perfect in any way, his body's reaction to the memory just as powerful as it would be to the blood itself. He was embarrassed to note he was salivating, and pleased his lower half was under several layers of blanket. So, was that a dream too?

Suddenly he was no longer sure. He reached out to touch her arm, and she jumped at the contact.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"No, it's ok, you just surprised me," Buffy replied.

"It's just, … I know it's silly, but I dreamed that you, that I … drank from you. Then seeing the wrist, and … but I didn't, did I?"

Buffy lifted her arm, and unwrapped her wrist. The original cut was gone, completely healed, although there was still a faint mark from Spike's fangs, no more than reddening of the skin, but unmistakable.

She turned her wrist so he could see.

"No, not a dream," she reassured him.

"Then, why? Why didn't you stake me? Why?"

She shrugged. "I didn't stake you, because I offered. And I offered because you needed it."

Neither seemed to know what to say. Spike's mind was in turmoil. If that was true, then he suspected the rest of it was too. He'd been poisoned, and she'd brought him here, mixed a complicated potion, used her own blood for it, and then, allowed him to drink from her. He had no clue what to make of it.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, staring at the marks on her wrist.

"No, not really," she answered. "And I heal pretty quickly."

Buffy was at least as confused as Spike was. Although she had no doubts as to what had actually happened, her own motivation was still a mystery. In an attempt to cover her confusion, she decided to go and see if she could find Margot.

She headed towards the farmhouse, pleased to find Margot in the kitchen having a simple meal. Margot provided a similar repast for Buffy, and wanted to know if Spike wanted any. Buffy said he would, and agreed to take it to him when she'd finished. She wasn't sure he would actually want it, but, the alternative, asking for some blood for him, didn't seem appropriate.

"He's feeling better, then," Margot enquired.

"Yeah, fever's broken. He's still weak, though. Don't know when he'll be fit to travel."

"Doesn't matter," Margot reassured her. "You stay as long as you need to."

"Thanks."

"You on your way to the war?"

"Yes," Buffy replied. "I suppose I am."

When she had finished eating, she returned to the barn to find Spike sleeping again. She took the opportunity to watch him for a while, drinking in his appearance. Margot was right, what she should do now is head for the war. That meant leaving Spike, and the thought that she'd never see him again didn't exactly fill her with joy. When she considered what he was, and what he had intended to do with her, she couldn't understand exactly why she was less than happy at the prospect of never seeing him again. She just knew that there was something about him that drew her to him.

As she watched, he stirred, so she quickly stood up, pretending to be very interested in the various jars of herbs on the shelves around her. When he moved again, she turned around, and approached him.

"Want something to eat?" she asked.

"Human food? No, not really."

"But you need blood," she offered.

"Not need, really. Slayer blood goes a long way. I could probably go a few days without anything if I had to."

Buffy nodded her understanding. "I think you've still got some in your pack, but there's not a lot left. Does it have to be human blood?"

"No, doesn't have to. Animal will do, most of the time, but I need more of it than I do human. Survived on animal for weeks before now, when I wanted to be inconspicuous."

"Why don't you then? I mean, if you can use animals for food, why don't vampires do that?"

He let out a huge sigh, wondering how to explain it. "Well, I suppose I could ask, why don't humans make do with subsistence level food? I mean, you can survive on a very basic diet, you could do without the things you add to give food more flavour, but you don't. It's a bit like that, but more so. Feeding from a human is more than just sustenance. It's about …. Pleasure. I mean, I think we'd have to feed from a human source sometimes, but, I'm not sure anyone's ever tried an animal diet long term before."

He paused, watching a multitude of expressions flee across her face. "Why do you want to know?"

She shrugged, and he noticed she reddened a little. "It's just, I never got the chance to talk to a vampire before. I want to understand."

"What? You want to understand us so you can kill us better? 'Cos, I've got to say, I'd have thought it'd make it harder."

Buffy didn't answer. She knew he was right, and it had nothing to do with the current conversation. Getting to know Spike was going to make it impossible to kill him if she came across him in the future. And yet, if he was killing, she'd have no choice.

Another glance at his face showed he had closed his eyes again. Realising he was still very weak, Buffy decided to leave him in peace, and go and find out from Margot if there was somewhere she could have a bath.

She returned a short while later. Margot had promised to start warming water for a bath, but it would take a while. Buffy had wanted to see to it herself, but Margot wouldn't hear of it. She headed back to the barn for want of an alternative. Spike was awake again, and he watched her coming in, his expression unreadable.

"So, what are your plans now?"

"Well, I thought I'd have a bath. Would you like one too?"

"Yes, a bath sounds great," he replied. "But, I meant a little longer term than the next few hours. Suppose you'll be leaving."

"Suppose so," Buffy replied. She had no reason to stay, but the prospect seemed unwelcome. "Yeah, suppose I should head back, find other humans, you know."

"You should," he agreed. He turned his face away, desperate not to let her see the desolation he knew was written clearly on his face.

Buffy was surprised at the tone of Spike's voice. She could have understood defeat. She could have understood gratitude. She couldn't understand the misery that was apparent in what he said.

"I can't go until you're well enough to travel, 'cos it wouldn't be fair to just leave you with Margot. What'll you do?" she asked.

He sighed deeply. "I'd better go into hiding. People who sent me, don't go in much for failure. Probably spend the next few years making me wish you'd just staked me. So, I'll hide out, see if I can make myself useful to someone powerful, start again."

"Oh," she replied. That explained it. He was worried about his future. Not that she could blame him for that, it all seemed perfectly natural.

"So, I'll go and fight the invaders, and you'll find somewhere to be useful," she added without really understanding her own need to fill the silence with words.

"Ok, don't make a meal of it," he yelled. "Just go. You've won, even if you didn't do it on purpose. Get out, and leave me. I promise I won't make a meal out of Margot, if that's all that's keeping you."

"Well, I'm very sorry I spent all that time and effort trying to save your life. Least you could say is 'Thanks', but no, stupid vampire, all you can say is 'leave me'."

Buffy stood up and marched briskly to the door.

"Buffy," Spike whispered. It was so different from the previous yell that she turned, surprised. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to yell. And, .. thanks. I know what you did. Can't believe you did it, but I … thanks. Still trying to sort out what was dream and what really happened, but …"

He nodded. "Still don't understand why you did it. I mean, you'd have killed me quick enough if we'd met under different circumstances. And, I was going to kill you."

Buffy didn't reply. She just turned towards the door, and mumbled something about finding if the bath was ready.

The bath was ready, and Margot had even found Buffy a change of clothes. Buffy wondered at that as she removed what she was wearing. How did Margot know she didn't have anything else? She decided not to wonder too much, but just appreciate the fact.

The bath was a smaller version of the one at the castle. The water was good and hot, and she was able to relax and enjoy the feeling of being clean. When she finished, she pulled on the clothes Margot had supplied. They weren't too practical, but then, she only had to wear them until the others were clean. She pulled on the dress, pleased that it seemed to be a perfect fit. It was dark green, and hugged her body closely to the waist. The skirt was loose, flowing around her legs. She felt remarkably feminine for a change. One distinct disadvantage of being a Slayer was that there were rarely opportunities for just being a woman.

She returned to Spike, and offered to help him over to the bathhouse. He muttered something about not being helpless, and tried to get up. As soon as he tried to put weight on his injured leg, he buckled, and Buffy dived to catch him.

"Maybe a little help'd be useful," he admitted.

Buffy took a good portion of his weight, and hefted his pack on her other shoulder. The walk to the bathhouse took a couple of minutes, and neither said anything.

The layout of the bathhouse didn't allow Spike a lot of independence. She set him down on a stone bench on the opposite wall to the sunken bath. He managed to undress without help, relying heavily on his uninjured leg. Buffy then had to help him to the steps down into the bath. He was able to sit on the top step, and then work his way down until he was waist deep in the water again, using only his good leg.

He soaped himself slowly, enjoying the warmth. He knew she was watching him, and he considered how much she had done for him.

"Just so you know," he muttered. "Never did want to kill you. Would have, I suppose, but, even if I had the chance now, I wouldn't. Not that it's worth anything. So, when you leave, I promise I won't come after you."

She was silent for a few seconds, taking in this surprising information.

"I'm glad," she replied. "Don't want to stake you either."

He nodded.

Buffy paused, remembering something. "Why did you say it was my fault?"

"What?"

"When the effects of the poison got worse, you said it was my fault. And .. why did it need my blood? Was it Slayer blood? I mean, it's a bit rare as an antidote ingredient."

"Blood for the potion, had to be yours. Didn't matter if you were Slayer or not, wouldn't even matter if you weren't human. Just had to be yours."

"Why?"

"Because you were the cause."

"How did I cause it, though? You haven't made any sense."

Spike didn't say anything. If he told her the truth, he'd be showing her one aspect of how he felt about her, and he'd probably make her uncomfortable. On the other hand, she'd saved him, so maybe she deserved the truth.

"The poison, it's rare."

"You said it was - Vagros demon spit?"

"That's what I thought, at first. Know better now. It's instantly fatal to humans, and that's probably why it was used. Suspect he was worried they'd be overrun, and didn't want to take his chances. It causes pain, but it's not fatal to vampires, unless .."

"Unless what, and how is it to do with me?"

"There's a mystical aspect to it. It's activated by … sexual arousal, and … climax."

"And, I say again, what has that got to do with me?"

"When were we at the house? Night before last?"

She nodded, her face reddening as she remembered the afterglow of the dream.

"I woke, early. You were dreaming. Seemed obvious what sort of dream it was, and, well, it affected me. Went to the privy to do something about it. And, that's what activated the poison."

"Oh," Buffy managed. She knew her face must be flaming, and she kept up a mental barrage of words aimed at calming herself. It didn't work.

"So, the potion had to include your blood. It's not an antidote in the strictest sense, because it's not a chemical effect. There's a magical aspect to the potion, and that's where the blood came in. You activated the poison, so you were needed to destroy it, too."

In the silence that followed, Buffy's mind raced. He knew she'd been dreaming, but did he know who else had been in the dream? She'd affected him, but was that just her, or would any woman have done the same thing?

Her eyes had been downcast as she thought, and when she looked up, it was obvious that Spike had been watching her the whole time.

"Sorry, didn't mean to embarrass you," he managed. "Thought I owed you the truth, though. Probably would've been better if I'd never mentioned it being your fault."

"Not embarrassed," Buffy protested.

"Yeah, you always turn that delightful shade of pink when you're not embarrassed," Spike teased.

He didn't give her time to answer, but started to edge up the stairs again, desperate to retain a little dignity. He even managed to stand without help, the warm water freeing up his leg more than he'd have believed possible. He pulled a towel around himself, before allowing her to help him to the other side of the room so he could dress.