Unmoved
By iyaorisha
Timing: AU S7
Pairings: Buffy/Spike (also Xander/Anya)
Summary: Spike has healed, but doesn't want to leave the Summers' house. Buffy struggles with flashbacks from the attempted rape. Meanwhile, Rack's twin sister seeks revenge for his death. Can Willow defend herself without resorting to magick?
("Unmoved" is the second in a series of four linked AU S7 fanfics I wrote in the summer of 2002.)
Rating/Warnings: R. Violence (including suggested domestic violence), language, F/M, M/M flashback, rape flashback, and torture.
Spoilers: None if you've seen up through S6. References to my fanfics "Relating to a Psychopath" and "Look What Love Gave Us"
Feedback: Brutal honesty is best (I enjoy floggings, I really do), but warm fuzzies are accepted as well. You can post a review here or email me at fanfic_by_iyaorisha@yahoo.com
***
Chapter 3
Willow ran for the extinguisher, but Buffy was faster. She knocked Spike down. As he fell, he hit his head against one of the kitchen chairs. Buffy did not even pause to wince at the impact. She threw herself atop Spike's burning body. The flames licked at her, too, but soon smothered as she rolled both their bodies. As soon as she was sure that the vampire wasn't burning any longer, Buffy stopped turning. She opened her eyes to see her kitchen on fire.
It actually wasn't the whole kitchen, just the stove where the remaining oil threatened to spread to the wall above if Dawn didn't stop throwing water on it. "Dawnie stop!" Buffy yelled. "Willow, use the extinguisher!"
The redhead attacked the flames. Buffy turned her attention back to Spike. He was on top of her, heavy and still. For one crazy second, she thought, oh, God, he's not breathing. And then she remembered. Vampire. Doesn't need to breathe. Still, the not-moving part isn't good. He should be writhing from the pain.
She gently pushed him off and rolled him onto his back. Spike's eyes were closed beneath a light mask of soot, but his face looked undamaged except for a red mark where he had struck his head. His arms and torso were another matter. His t-shirt was charred through in many places. Where the cloth was burned away, she could see nasty-looking blisters already forming. And his bare arms and hands were covered with burns.
Buffy glanced around. Willow was putting out the last of the fire. Dawn appeared frozen. Neither could help her. She was about to try to lift the vampire herself when Ravesa reappeared.
"I called 911. Fire truck is on its way." The woman stopped and stared at Spike. "Oh no! What happened to your friend?" She knelt beside them, staring in horror at the burns.
"He pushed Dawn out of the way and the burning oil splashed on him."
Ravesa jumped to her feet. "I'll call for an ambulance, too."
Buffy grabbed her arm. "No!"
The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Please, just help me get him into the other room." She motioned for Ravesa to grab his feet. Buffy tried to find unburned places on Spike's upper body to grasp him. Finally, she gave up and lifted him as gently as possible. Ravesa did the same. Together, they carried him into the dining room and set him on the table.
Spike lay there like a broken doll. Buffy shook him lightly, "Spike. Wake up, Spike." He remained motionless.
"Buffy, I've got to call the paramedics." Ravesa panted. "He's not breathing!"
"Just give me a minute!" The blonde snapped. Knowing it was a waste of time, Buffy tilted Spike's head back, clamped his nose shut, and positioned her mouth above his. I can't do this, she thought, but Ravesa was watching her. Buffy took a deep breath and exhaled into Spike's lungs.
Nothing. Again, she performed the procedure, hoping he'd regain consciousness enough to fake breathing before Willow's guest completely freaked out. This time, the vampire coughed and his eyes opened. "Buffy?" he croaked.
"Thank God!" Ravesa gasped. "I though you were dead!"
Spike tried to laugh, but his chest hurt. "Oh, balls! I'm burned." He moaned. Spike hated being burned. Burns on preternatural skin healed fast, but they always itched.
"Those are at least second degree." Ravesa jabbered as she leaned over Spike's chest. "Your arms are definitely worse, third degree. And you probably inhaled some smoke, too." She turned to Buffy. "Now will you let me call the paramedics?"
"No paramedics." Spike winced as he sat up. "Is Dawn okay?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.
Tears sprang to Buffy's eyes. "Yes. You saved her, Spike."
The corners of his mouth curved. "Good. Fire out?"
"I think. Willow used the extinguisher. Try to rest, Spike. You took a nasty hit to the head."
"Head's fine. You put me out." The vampire swallowed. "Are you hurt?"
For the first time, Buffy became aware of her own appearance. Her clothing reeked of smoke and was grimy with water and spilled peanut oil from the floor. Scorch marks marred the lightweight jacket she wore. Both it and her hiphuggers were likely a total loss. But from what she could tell, her garments had protected her from the flames. "I'm just fine."
Spike nodded with obvious relief and closed his eyes.
"How do you feel?" Buffy asked softly.
"Like rashers fallen in the grate." He was careful not to laugh. "Second ruined shirt in a fortnight."
"You saved my sister." Buffy said, with a tenderness that surprised even her. "I'll buy you a dozen shirts."
Ravesa was agog. "I can't believe you two are discussing his wardrobe! I'm calling the EMTs." She turned toward the door.
Spike's eyes flashed amber. "I said no."
Buffy grabbed Ravesa's arm. "He hates EMTs. Doctors, too. And nurses!" She babbled. "The whole medical profession in fact."
Ravesa shook her arm free. "Those burns have got to be treated."
"Buffy will patch me up. She's done it before." The bleached blond vamp turned to Buffy. "I hear sirens."
Ravesa frowned. She couldn't hear anything.
"The fire truck." Buffy frowned. "We've got to get you upstairs." She and Ravesa helped Spike into Dawn's bedroom. He groaned as he lay back on the bed. Ravesa begged them both to let her call for an ambulance.
Buffy shook her head "I promise he'll be fine. He's survived worse. I swear it. Please just stay with him while I go downstairs to get my sister. I think she's in shock."
Ravesa nodded with great reluctance. Buffy thanked her and ran downstairs. Firemen were clumping across the lawn. She skidded into the kitchen where an exhausted Willow sat in a chair, the extinguisher still held in one hand. Dawn was seated beside her, crying. Buffy knelt beside her. "Dawn, Dawnie, you gotta listen to me. The firefighters are outside. I gotta let them in. They're going to ask you about the fire. You can not mention Spike."
"Why? Is he dead?" The brunette sobbed.
"No, sweetie. Well, not anymore than he was before. Just burned. And if you tell the firemen, they'll want to see him."
Willow smiled. "Yeah, Dawnie, it wouldn't do for them to try to take his pulse."
The doorbell rang and they all started.
"Can I see him?" The teen asked tearfully.
"Sure. It looks bad, but he will be fine. This time tomorrow, I promise."
Dawn smiled.
The bell rang again. "Fire Department." A man yelled.
"I'm coming." Buffy called out wearily.
***
Spike's eyes were closed. He might have been asleep or simply resting. Either way, he didn't see the dark-haired woman staring at him with a mixture of wonder and revulsion. Not human, she thought. No person could sustain that number of severe burns and lay there without screaming and writhing in pain. So, if he wasn't human, what was he?
She knew he was most likely a vampire -hence the "garlic allergy". She almost laughed aloud. How clever they thought they were. Now if only she could trick them into revealing his true nature.
In truth, Ravesa did not care what sort of creature Spike was. It only mattered, so that she would know how she might best kill him.
***
"I am so sorry." The teen said for the thirtieth or fortieth time.
Spike didn't know what to say, so he started criticizing Buffy instead. "Do you have to use so much tape? It stings when you pull it off, you know." The older Summers was heavily bandaging the badly burned vampire's arms and chest. As when she had accidentally staked him, Buffy wasn't taking any chances. Spike was beginning to look like a blond mummy.
Dawn stood up and peered outside her bedroom window. The firefighters were departing. She heard Willow and Ravesa calling their thanks. Then the truck drove away and the front door closed. Two sets of footfalls up the stairs. A knock on the door.
"Dawn, could you get that? My hands are full with this gauze."
"No, missy." Spike struggled to sit up. "You're done."
Buffy shook her head. "Lay back down. And stop complaining. Or the next piece of tape goes across your mouth." She threatened.
Before Dawn could turn the knob, Willow opened it a crack and poked her head in. "Can we come in?"
Dawn nodded and sat back down on the bed.
Willow and Ravesa entered, the brunette with wide eyes when she saw the gauze-shrouded Spike. "Is you okay?" Willow asked.
"Yes. Except for all the soddin' tape." He smirked at Buffy. "This must be one of your candy striper fantasies."
She slapped a wide piece of tape across the lower half of his face. Spike struggled briefly, then contented himself with glaring.
"What happened, Dawnie?" Willow asked. "How did the fire start?"
The younger Summers' shoulders slumped. "I don't know. The pot seemed to...jump."
"It probably tipped over because it was overfilled. You put way too much oil in it, Dawn." Ravesa chided.
"Wait a minute!" Buffy snapped. "Don't go blaming Dawn."
Ravesa threw up her hands. "I'm sorry, Dawn. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty."
They fell into an awkward silence.
Willow patted Dawn's hand. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that everyone's okay."
"Everyone's not okay." Ravesa scoffed. " I don't think there is a square inch of unburned skin on your friend's hands. And his chest looked pretty bad, too. We've got to get him to a hospital."
Spike's protests were muffled, but Buffy handled it. "No hospital. He's okay."
Ravesa shook her head. "Spike might be okay now. But I've read about burn victims. He's vulnerable to infection. And there could be breathing problems as well. Even if he didn't inhale any smoke, if there are any third-degree burns on his chest the skin will start to constrict. He'll suffocate."
Dawn looked worried. But Buffy shook her head. "That won't happen."
Ravesa threw up her hands. "Why? Because you smeared some Neosporin on him. And wrapped him up in a mile of gauze?"
Spike nodded with satisfaction.
"Look," Ravesa continued. "Is it that he doesn't have insurance? Because Sunnydale General takes indigent patients all the time."
Willow shook her head. "Ravesa..."
"Or is he in some kind of trouble with the law. Are you afraid the police will find out and come after you."
"Ravesa!" Willow said it more forcefully this time.
"Because whatever he's done, it's not worth it. Prison might be bad, but those burns could be a death sentence!"
"He's not a criminal." Dawn said.
"So what it is then?" Ravesa stopped pacing. "He's English, right. Is he here without a green card or something? Are you afraid he'll be deported? I can't believe you're not taking him to the hospital just because he's an illegal alien!"
"No! Because he's a..." Buffy stopped herself just in time.
"A what?" Ravesa stared at Spike.
Willow and Buffy exchanged a look. The redheaded ex-witch looked torn. "Don't tell her, Will." The Slayer warned.
On the bed, Spike vigorously shook his head.
Willow took a deep breath. "You said you didn't believe the mad dog attack stories."
Ravesa nodded.
"You were right not to." Willow paused. "Pat was attacked by a werewolf."
The dark-haired stranger laughed. When no one joined her, she fell silent. "Come on, you expect me to believe that there are werewolves."
"Tell her, Buffy." Willow insisted.
"It's true." Buffy confirmed. "Werewolves exist. There were a couple in Sunnydale, a while back. But they're gone now."
Ravesa sat down heavily on the bed next to Spike. "Werewolves." She intoned in a stunned voice.
Leave it at that, Willow, Buffy silently prayed.
But her best friend was not deterred. "There's more Ravesa." The redhead turned to Buffy. "Tell her the rest."
Buffy remained silent. Distracted, Ravesa had stopped insisting on medical treatment for Spike. In the Slayer's opinion, there was no need to reveal anything else.
"Tell her." Willow repeated. "She's in danger if she doesn't know what to look out for."
"Watch out for everything in Sunnydale, Ravesa." Buffy said coldly. "It's a dangerous place. But, then you should know that if you're really a native." She turned to Willow. "There she's been warned."
"You know that's not what I mean." The redhead protested. "Tell her or I'll tell her myself."
The two friends stared at each other. They hadn't quarreled since Willow's return from Wales. Buffy sighed.
"Ravesa, Pat was killed by a werewolf." Buffy said reluctantly. "But most premature deaths in Sunnydale are usually from vampires."
She looked at Spike when she said the next words. "Like this one."
The dark-haired ex-witch opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
Dawn spoke up. "But he doesn't do that anymore, Ravesa. You don't have anything to fear from him."
Spike rolled his eyes in frustration. He had to get this tape off his mouth before the girls gave away the whole bleedin' game.
Ravesa raised an eyebrow. "It didn't seem that way earlier when...He looked like he wanted to carve his initials in me with that knife."
That's right. Spike thought. She recognizes the Big Bad when she sees it.
Willow patted Ravesa's arm. "They were just trying to scare you in case you came here with bad intentions."
Ravesa laughed again. This time with a note of hysteria. "Unlike now." She raked a hand through her hair. "If you put on an act before, you'd do the same thing now. Why should I believe you? Cause the whole garlic allergy thing isn't very convincing..." The brunette ex-witch suddenly fell silent.
Spike had managed to sit up again. Even with the tape concealing his fangs, his visage was unmistakably inhuman. Forehead ridges and blazing yellow eyes.
"If you care to look in the mirror behind you," Buffy said calmly. "You'll notice he's the only one of us who doesn't have a reflection."
Ravesa backed away, toward the door.
"Stop it!" Willow shouted at the vampire. Spike rolled his eyes and dropped his game face. But it was too late, Ravesa fumbled for the knob, turned it and fled. Willow raced after her.
From the muffled sounds, it was obvious Spike was laughing despite the pain in his chest. Buffy leaned over and ripped the tape off. "Aargh!" he gasped. "Thanks!" he glared at Buffy.
"No, thank you." Her voice held not a hint of sarcasm.
"Huh?"
"She's glad you got rid of Ravesa." Dawn sat on the edge of the bed. "So am I. She's such a bitch. What does Willow see in her?"
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know."
"That's not what's important." Spike said. "What matters is what does she see in Red?"
The three pondered this in silence. Then Buffy spoke. "You're right, Spike."
The blond vampire couldn't believe his ears. He tried to think of something smarmy to say.
The Slayer didn't give him a chance. "Today was Ravesa's first day at Willow's magickal addiction therapy group. Of all of the members of the group to befriend, she latched onto the ex-witch with the most potent powers." Buffy paused. "Then she comes here to the house. How did she know where Willow lives?" Buffy looked at her sister. "What did she say when she came to the door?"
Dawn thought hard. In truth, she couldn't remember. She had a foggy sense of Ravesa introducing herself and showing her the pendant. The next memory was of the stranger brushing past her.
The brunette shook her head. "Sorry, Buffy. I can't remember. I guess the shock from the fire." She said with embarrassment.
"No." Buffy said. "I don't think it's from the fire at all. I think...no, I'm sure that she didn't say how she found out Willow's address. And she was so insistent on returning the necklace herself."
"A ploy to get into the house." Spike said grimly.
Buffy looked at him. "And once she was in the house, she was headed straight for Willow. I'm not sure that I could have stopped her without force. Ravesa only backed off when you entered the room." She told Spike.
The vampire grinned. "Glad to be of service."
Dawn shivered. "If you guys hadn't been home..."
Buffy gazed at her sister. Once the most powerful force in existence, Dawn was now just a slender fifteen-year old girl. Even the smattering of martial arts and weapons training she'd received in the last few months wouldn't help much if
Dawn was caught alone in the house with an adept of dark magicks. The Slayer's next words were born of the pledge to her dead mother.
"Spike, how long will it take you to heal?"
"A few hours. Maybe a day." He replied. "It'll itch like bloody hell for a week, though." He paused. "Don't worry. I can heal just as well in the crypt."
Buffy pushed down her lingering doubts and spoke. "You're not going anywhere."
Both Spike and Dawn looked at her in bewilderment.
"I need you here, Spike." The words sounded stranger to her own ears. "I don't know what Ravesa is up to, but I don't think that she's just in Sunnydale to attend to a dead relative's affairs."
Spike gave a nod of agreement.
Buffy continued. "And I can't be here all time." She hesistated. "Spike, I want you to stay here, in the house."
Both Dawn and Spike stared wordlessly at Buffy.
"Just for the time being." She emphasized as Dawn began grinning.
"Oh! Thanks, Buffy!" The younger Summers hugged her sister.
The blonde locked eyes with Spike as she stood up. "Your job is to keep my sister and Willow safe. At any cost." The words went unspoken, but they both understood. Kill Ravesa if you have to, Buffy meant.
"Buffy..." he started.
She was already walking away. "Don't let me down." The door clicked shut behind Buffy, leaving him and Dawn alone.
The bleached vampire fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. He heard Rev. Mayhew's cries of horror as he approached, fangs exposed. The young missionary was his twenty-third victim. How many had there been since? Hundreds certainly. Perhaps thousands. And they all seemed to clamor, begging for mercy, nightly in his dreams. How could his conscience bear one more?
"Spike? Spike?"
He opened his eyes. Dawn was staring at him with concern. Yes, he could bear one more. For Dawn and Willow. But most of all for Buffy.
"I guess you got your wish, Nibblet."
***
(Continued in Chapter 4)
By iyaorisha
Timing: AU S7
Pairings: Buffy/Spike (also Xander/Anya)
Summary: Spike has healed, but doesn't want to leave the Summers' house. Buffy struggles with flashbacks from the attempted rape. Meanwhile, Rack's twin sister seeks revenge for his death. Can Willow defend herself without resorting to magick?
("Unmoved" is the second in a series of four linked AU S7 fanfics I wrote in the summer of 2002.)
Rating/Warnings: R. Violence (including suggested domestic violence), language, F/M, M/M flashback, rape flashback, and torture.
Spoilers: None if you've seen up through S6. References to my fanfics "Relating to a Psychopath" and "Look What Love Gave Us"
Feedback: Brutal honesty is best (I enjoy floggings, I really do), but warm fuzzies are accepted as well. You can post a review here or email me at fanfic_by_iyaorisha@yahoo.com
***
Chapter 3
Willow ran for the extinguisher, but Buffy was faster. She knocked Spike down. As he fell, he hit his head against one of the kitchen chairs. Buffy did not even pause to wince at the impact. She threw herself atop Spike's burning body. The flames licked at her, too, but soon smothered as she rolled both their bodies. As soon as she was sure that the vampire wasn't burning any longer, Buffy stopped turning. She opened her eyes to see her kitchen on fire.
It actually wasn't the whole kitchen, just the stove where the remaining oil threatened to spread to the wall above if Dawn didn't stop throwing water on it. "Dawnie stop!" Buffy yelled. "Willow, use the extinguisher!"
The redhead attacked the flames. Buffy turned her attention back to Spike. He was on top of her, heavy and still. For one crazy second, she thought, oh, God, he's not breathing. And then she remembered. Vampire. Doesn't need to breathe. Still, the not-moving part isn't good. He should be writhing from the pain.
She gently pushed him off and rolled him onto his back. Spike's eyes were closed beneath a light mask of soot, but his face looked undamaged except for a red mark where he had struck his head. His arms and torso were another matter. His t-shirt was charred through in many places. Where the cloth was burned away, she could see nasty-looking blisters already forming. And his bare arms and hands were covered with burns.
Buffy glanced around. Willow was putting out the last of the fire. Dawn appeared frozen. Neither could help her. She was about to try to lift the vampire herself when Ravesa reappeared.
"I called 911. Fire truck is on its way." The woman stopped and stared at Spike. "Oh no! What happened to your friend?" She knelt beside them, staring in horror at the burns.
"He pushed Dawn out of the way and the burning oil splashed on him."
Ravesa jumped to her feet. "I'll call for an ambulance, too."
Buffy grabbed her arm. "No!"
The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Please, just help me get him into the other room." She motioned for Ravesa to grab his feet. Buffy tried to find unburned places on Spike's upper body to grasp him. Finally, she gave up and lifted him as gently as possible. Ravesa did the same. Together, they carried him into the dining room and set him on the table.
Spike lay there like a broken doll. Buffy shook him lightly, "Spike. Wake up, Spike." He remained motionless.
"Buffy, I've got to call the paramedics." Ravesa panted. "He's not breathing!"
"Just give me a minute!" The blonde snapped. Knowing it was a waste of time, Buffy tilted Spike's head back, clamped his nose shut, and positioned her mouth above his. I can't do this, she thought, but Ravesa was watching her. Buffy took a deep breath and exhaled into Spike's lungs.
Nothing. Again, she performed the procedure, hoping he'd regain consciousness enough to fake breathing before Willow's guest completely freaked out. This time, the vampire coughed and his eyes opened. "Buffy?" he croaked.
"Thank God!" Ravesa gasped. "I though you were dead!"
Spike tried to laugh, but his chest hurt. "Oh, balls! I'm burned." He moaned. Spike hated being burned. Burns on preternatural skin healed fast, but they always itched.
"Those are at least second degree." Ravesa jabbered as she leaned over Spike's chest. "Your arms are definitely worse, third degree. And you probably inhaled some smoke, too." She turned to Buffy. "Now will you let me call the paramedics?"
"No paramedics." Spike winced as he sat up. "Is Dawn okay?" His voice was a hoarse whisper.
Tears sprang to Buffy's eyes. "Yes. You saved her, Spike."
The corners of his mouth curved. "Good. Fire out?"
"I think. Willow used the extinguisher. Try to rest, Spike. You took a nasty hit to the head."
"Head's fine. You put me out." The vampire swallowed. "Are you hurt?"
For the first time, Buffy became aware of her own appearance. Her clothing reeked of smoke and was grimy with water and spilled peanut oil from the floor. Scorch marks marred the lightweight jacket she wore. Both it and her hiphuggers were likely a total loss. But from what she could tell, her garments had protected her from the flames. "I'm just fine."
Spike nodded with obvious relief and closed his eyes.
"How do you feel?" Buffy asked softly.
"Like rashers fallen in the grate." He was careful not to laugh. "Second ruined shirt in a fortnight."
"You saved my sister." Buffy said, with a tenderness that surprised even her. "I'll buy you a dozen shirts."
Ravesa was agog. "I can't believe you two are discussing his wardrobe! I'm calling the EMTs." She turned toward the door.
Spike's eyes flashed amber. "I said no."
Buffy grabbed Ravesa's arm. "He hates EMTs. Doctors, too. And nurses!" She babbled. "The whole medical profession in fact."
Ravesa shook her arm free. "Those burns have got to be treated."
"Buffy will patch me up. She's done it before." The bleached blond vamp turned to Buffy. "I hear sirens."
Ravesa frowned. She couldn't hear anything.
"The fire truck." Buffy frowned. "We've got to get you upstairs." She and Ravesa helped Spike into Dawn's bedroom. He groaned as he lay back on the bed. Ravesa begged them both to let her call for an ambulance.
Buffy shook her head "I promise he'll be fine. He's survived worse. I swear it. Please just stay with him while I go downstairs to get my sister. I think she's in shock."
Ravesa nodded with great reluctance. Buffy thanked her and ran downstairs. Firemen were clumping across the lawn. She skidded into the kitchen where an exhausted Willow sat in a chair, the extinguisher still held in one hand. Dawn was seated beside her, crying. Buffy knelt beside her. "Dawn, Dawnie, you gotta listen to me. The firefighters are outside. I gotta let them in. They're going to ask you about the fire. You can not mention Spike."
"Why? Is he dead?" The brunette sobbed.
"No, sweetie. Well, not anymore than he was before. Just burned. And if you tell the firemen, they'll want to see him."
Willow smiled. "Yeah, Dawnie, it wouldn't do for them to try to take his pulse."
The doorbell rang and they all started.
"Can I see him?" The teen asked tearfully.
"Sure. It looks bad, but he will be fine. This time tomorrow, I promise."
Dawn smiled.
The bell rang again. "Fire Department." A man yelled.
"I'm coming." Buffy called out wearily.
***
Spike's eyes were closed. He might have been asleep or simply resting. Either way, he didn't see the dark-haired woman staring at him with a mixture of wonder and revulsion. Not human, she thought. No person could sustain that number of severe burns and lay there without screaming and writhing in pain. So, if he wasn't human, what was he?
She knew he was most likely a vampire -hence the "garlic allergy". She almost laughed aloud. How clever they thought they were. Now if only she could trick them into revealing his true nature.
In truth, Ravesa did not care what sort of creature Spike was. It only mattered, so that she would know how she might best kill him.
***
"I am so sorry." The teen said for the thirtieth or fortieth time.
Spike didn't know what to say, so he started criticizing Buffy instead. "Do you have to use so much tape? It stings when you pull it off, you know." The older Summers was heavily bandaging the badly burned vampire's arms and chest. As when she had accidentally staked him, Buffy wasn't taking any chances. Spike was beginning to look like a blond mummy.
Dawn stood up and peered outside her bedroom window. The firefighters were departing. She heard Willow and Ravesa calling their thanks. Then the truck drove away and the front door closed. Two sets of footfalls up the stairs. A knock on the door.
"Dawn, could you get that? My hands are full with this gauze."
"No, missy." Spike struggled to sit up. "You're done."
Buffy shook her head. "Lay back down. And stop complaining. Or the next piece of tape goes across your mouth." She threatened.
Before Dawn could turn the knob, Willow opened it a crack and poked her head in. "Can we come in?"
Dawn nodded and sat back down on the bed.
Willow and Ravesa entered, the brunette with wide eyes when she saw the gauze-shrouded Spike. "Is you okay?" Willow asked.
"Yes. Except for all the soddin' tape." He smirked at Buffy. "This must be one of your candy striper fantasies."
She slapped a wide piece of tape across the lower half of his face. Spike struggled briefly, then contented himself with glaring.
"What happened, Dawnie?" Willow asked. "How did the fire start?"
The younger Summers' shoulders slumped. "I don't know. The pot seemed to...jump."
"It probably tipped over because it was overfilled. You put way too much oil in it, Dawn." Ravesa chided.
"Wait a minute!" Buffy snapped. "Don't go blaming Dawn."
Ravesa threw up her hands. "I'm sorry, Dawn. I didn't mean to make you feel guilty."
They fell into an awkward silence.
Willow patted Dawn's hand. "It doesn't matter. What's important is that everyone's okay."
"Everyone's not okay." Ravesa scoffed. " I don't think there is a square inch of unburned skin on your friend's hands. And his chest looked pretty bad, too. We've got to get him to a hospital."
Spike's protests were muffled, but Buffy handled it. "No hospital. He's okay."
Ravesa shook her head. "Spike might be okay now. But I've read about burn victims. He's vulnerable to infection. And there could be breathing problems as well. Even if he didn't inhale any smoke, if there are any third-degree burns on his chest the skin will start to constrict. He'll suffocate."
Dawn looked worried. But Buffy shook her head. "That won't happen."
Ravesa threw up her hands. "Why? Because you smeared some Neosporin on him. And wrapped him up in a mile of gauze?"
Spike nodded with satisfaction.
"Look," Ravesa continued. "Is it that he doesn't have insurance? Because Sunnydale General takes indigent patients all the time."
Willow shook her head. "Ravesa..."
"Or is he in some kind of trouble with the law. Are you afraid the police will find out and come after you."
"Ravesa!" Willow said it more forcefully this time.
"Because whatever he's done, it's not worth it. Prison might be bad, but those burns could be a death sentence!"
"He's not a criminal." Dawn said.
"So what it is then?" Ravesa stopped pacing. "He's English, right. Is he here without a green card or something? Are you afraid he'll be deported? I can't believe you're not taking him to the hospital just because he's an illegal alien!"
"No! Because he's a..." Buffy stopped herself just in time.
"A what?" Ravesa stared at Spike.
Willow and Buffy exchanged a look. The redheaded ex-witch looked torn. "Don't tell her, Will." The Slayer warned.
On the bed, Spike vigorously shook his head.
Willow took a deep breath. "You said you didn't believe the mad dog attack stories."
Ravesa nodded.
"You were right not to." Willow paused. "Pat was attacked by a werewolf."
The dark-haired stranger laughed. When no one joined her, she fell silent. "Come on, you expect me to believe that there are werewolves."
"Tell her, Buffy." Willow insisted.
"It's true." Buffy confirmed. "Werewolves exist. There were a couple in Sunnydale, a while back. But they're gone now."
Ravesa sat down heavily on the bed next to Spike. "Werewolves." She intoned in a stunned voice.
Leave it at that, Willow, Buffy silently prayed.
But her best friend was not deterred. "There's more Ravesa." The redhead turned to Buffy. "Tell her the rest."
Buffy remained silent. Distracted, Ravesa had stopped insisting on medical treatment for Spike. In the Slayer's opinion, there was no need to reveal anything else.
"Tell her." Willow repeated. "She's in danger if she doesn't know what to look out for."
"Watch out for everything in Sunnydale, Ravesa." Buffy said coldly. "It's a dangerous place. But, then you should know that if you're really a native." She turned to Willow. "There she's been warned."
"You know that's not what I mean." The redhead protested. "Tell her or I'll tell her myself."
The two friends stared at each other. They hadn't quarreled since Willow's return from Wales. Buffy sighed.
"Ravesa, Pat was killed by a werewolf." Buffy said reluctantly. "But most premature deaths in Sunnydale are usually from vampires."
She looked at Spike when she said the next words. "Like this one."
The dark-haired ex-witch opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
Dawn spoke up. "But he doesn't do that anymore, Ravesa. You don't have anything to fear from him."
Spike rolled his eyes in frustration. He had to get this tape off his mouth before the girls gave away the whole bleedin' game.
Ravesa raised an eyebrow. "It didn't seem that way earlier when...He looked like he wanted to carve his initials in me with that knife."
That's right. Spike thought. She recognizes the Big Bad when she sees it.
Willow patted Ravesa's arm. "They were just trying to scare you in case you came here with bad intentions."
Ravesa laughed again. This time with a note of hysteria. "Unlike now." She raked a hand through her hair. "If you put on an act before, you'd do the same thing now. Why should I believe you? Cause the whole garlic allergy thing isn't very convincing..." The brunette ex-witch suddenly fell silent.
Spike had managed to sit up again. Even with the tape concealing his fangs, his visage was unmistakably inhuman. Forehead ridges and blazing yellow eyes.
"If you care to look in the mirror behind you," Buffy said calmly. "You'll notice he's the only one of us who doesn't have a reflection."
Ravesa backed away, toward the door.
"Stop it!" Willow shouted at the vampire. Spike rolled his eyes and dropped his game face. But it was too late, Ravesa fumbled for the knob, turned it and fled. Willow raced after her.
From the muffled sounds, it was obvious Spike was laughing despite the pain in his chest. Buffy leaned over and ripped the tape off. "Aargh!" he gasped. "Thanks!" he glared at Buffy.
"No, thank you." Her voice held not a hint of sarcasm.
"Huh?"
"She's glad you got rid of Ravesa." Dawn sat on the edge of the bed. "So am I. She's such a bitch. What does Willow see in her?"
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know."
"That's not what's important." Spike said. "What matters is what does she see in Red?"
The three pondered this in silence. Then Buffy spoke. "You're right, Spike."
The blond vampire couldn't believe his ears. He tried to think of something smarmy to say.
The Slayer didn't give him a chance. "Today was Ravesa's first day at Willow's magickal addiction therapy group. Of all of the members of the group to befriend, she latched onto the ex-witch with the most potent powers." Buffy paused. "Then she comes here to the house. How did she know where Willow lives?" Buffy looked at her sister. "What did she say when she came to the door?"
Dawn thought hard. In truth, she couldn't remember. She had a foggy sense of Ravesa introducing herself and showing her the pendant. The next memory was of the stranger brushing past her.
The brunette shook her head. "Sorry, Buffy. I can't remember. I guess the shock from the fire." She said with embarrassment.
"No." Buffy said. "I don't think it's from the fire at all. I think...no, I'm sure that she didn't say how she found out Willow's address. And she was so insistent on returning the necklace herself."
"A ploy to get into the house." Spike said grimly.
Buffy looked at him. "And once she was in the house, she was headed straight for Willow. I'm not sure that I could have stopped her without force. Ravesa only backed off when you entered the room." She told Spike.
The vampire grinned. "Glad to be of service."
Dawn shivered. "If you guys hadn't been home..."
Buffy gazed at her sister. Once the most powerful force in existence, Dawn was now just a slender fifteen-year old girl. Even the smattering of martial arts and weapons training she'd received in the last few months wouldn't help much if
Dawn was caught alone in the house with an adept of dark magicks. The Slayer's next words were born of the pledge to her dead mother.
"Spike, how long will it take you to heal?"
"A few hours. Maybe a day." He replied. "It'll itch like bloody hell for a week, though." He paused. "Don't worry. I can heal just as well in the crypt."
Buffy pushed down her lingering doubts and spoke. "You're not going anywhere."
Both Spike and Dawn looked at her in bewilderment.
"I need you here, Spike." The words sounded stranger to her own ears. "I don't know what Ravesa is up to, but I don't think that she's just in Sunnydale to attend to a dead relative's affairs."
Spike gave a nod of agreement.
Buffy continued. "And I can't be here all time." She hesistated. "Spike, I want you to stay here, in the house."
Both Dawn and Spike stared wordlessly at Buffy.
"Just for the time being." She emphasized as Dawn began grinning.
"Oh! Thanks, Buffy!" The younger Summers hugged her sister.
The blonde locked eyes with Spike as she stood up. "Your job is to keep my sister and Willow safe. At any cost." The words went unspoken, but they both understood. Kill Ravesa if you have to, Buffy meant.
"Buffy..." he started.
She was already walking away. "Don't let me down." The door clicked shut behind Buffy, leaving him and Dawn alone.
The bleached vampire fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. He heard Rev. Mayhew's cries of horror as he approached, fangs exposed. The young missionary was his twenty-third victim. How many had there been since? Hundreds certainly. Perhaps thousands. And they all seemed to clamor, begging for mercy, nightly in his dreams. How could his conscience bear one more?
"Spike? Spike?"
He opened his eyes. Dawn was staring at him with concern. Yes, he could bear one more. For Dawn and Willow. But most of all for Buffy.
"I guess you got your wish, Nibblet."
***
(Continued in Chapter 4)
