A/N: Hurray! This is a long chappy! 1,310 words! I know, not that long
but 500 more than my previous chapters. I'm sorry for the shortness of the
last ones. I was finding my feet, he he. I'm still looking for a BETA so
e-mail me if you know any good ones. As of now I just whip these chaps up
in an hour or so. I need help. You're supposed to harbor over chapters.
right? Well thanks to those that reviewed. Sorry for mistakes. Remember I
need a BETA. Spell check can't do everything.
Chapter 4: Finding your feet
When inside Spike's crypt, Spike set Buffy on top of the sarcophagus with promises of returning. He scurried down to the depths of his layer in search of medical supplies. Finding none, he scooped a blanket from his bed and headed back up the ladder.
Buffy looked up with tired eyes, feet dangling from the edge of the coffin. She was so tired she felt as if she would fall over.
"Listen," Spike spoke roughly and uncertain, "I have to go to your place to get some supplies. I'll bring back some cloths too ...that is, if you want to spend the night."
All Buffy could do was nod in response.
"Do you want me to tell them you're here?"
She looked up into his eyes contemplating her decision then whispered, "If you can put it past them so they won't come."
Spike nodded and gave her a small smile before he trudged out the door.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
It took Spike little time to reach the Summers' residence as he knew the path well. He tried to sneak in the best she could, but of course that didn't really work when all the people he was avoiding were stationed in the living room.
"Where have you been? Where's the Bot?" Dawn was the first to speak.
"She's gone bit," he was careful on his word choosing. He had no idea how he could let them know about Buffy's return and keep them from going after her at the same time. If only he could have used the window.
"The spell didn't work if you were trying to find out," The red-head could tell he knew about her spell. There was no use holding back. Dawn had already found out anyway.
Spike was silent and stared at them from his awkward position. He shifted his weight from side to side a few times before he began. He might as well spill. He would keep them away at Buffy's request by force if he had to anyway.
"She's alive," the group didn't register his words as fast as he had wanted them to, "She's in bad shape. She wants to be alone. I just came over to pick up some supplies. I'll bring her in the morning .if she wants to." They continued to stare at him.
"What?" Dawn squeaked tears starting to roll down her face yet again from when she found out about the spell. She just couldn't take it anymore and ran up to her room and slammed the door. Spike looked at the ground.
"Glenda I need some supplies for the cust on her hands," he spoke softly.
"It worked, but-, " Willow was cut off by Xander. He just put two and two together.
"It worked alright. We brought Buffy back, and left her right where we left her."
Horror struck Willow's face and she silently started to sob again. Xander started for the door, but Spike grabbed him and forced him up against the wall.
"Are you deaf?!" Spike was enraged, "She wants to be left alone. Does that have any meaning to you?!"
Xander's eyes started to leak. His macho play was over. He broke down.
Spike left him there and grabbed the supplies Tara handed to him. He headed upstairs knowing they wouldn't leave for Buffy.
Once in Buffy's room he headed straight for the dresser and pulled out a cotton tank and sweat pants with some undergarments. He pulled a duffle bag from beneath her bed and stuffed all that he collected into it. Pausing, he then grabbed Mr. Gordo and stuffed the pig too. He didn't have time to thank god for letting him enter such a sacred space, he had to get back to Buffy.
"Bring her back, will you." Dawn whispered from her place at the door to her sister's bedroom. Spike turned to look at Dawn's tear stained face and nodded with a smile. He then left the house without a glance back.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
The Slayer had changed her position to an Indian stance by the time Spike had returned. Her basic motor skills were back and she was already trying to find a way to tell Spike about here experiences in Heaven. She just hoped he would help her. What was she thinking, of course he would help her! The visions she saw were going to change, but this was Spike. He still loved her.
"Honey, I'm home," I was funny how he could make such a novelty phrase so twisted. She smiled in acknowledgment. He walked over and set the duffle bag down beside the sarcophagus while positioning himself to face Buffy as she was leaning he back against the railing attached to it. He grabbed some gaze and antiseptic then took her hands in his.
"I'm sorry," he had planned this speech for a long time so Buffy kept quiet; "I didn't save you. I should've been faster, more cunning, but I wasn't. I'm sorry for that."
Buffy was about to find her words when he continued, "I saved you though. Every night I saved you. In every different way you could imagine. 147 days, but I guess today doesn't count now does it." His eyes beamed with joy. He never thought he would get to say those words.
"Thanks," was all she could get out. It was no use telling him it wasn't his fault. She knew from memories given to her he was too stubborn for that.
Once her wounds were tended to, Spike jumped from his perch and pulled out his clothing choice for Buffy. She swung her legs over the side, wincing as bruises hit the stone. Knowing she couldn't get dressed by herself he asked, "May I?"
She nodded not meeting his eyes. She knew he wouldn't take advantage of her in this state, but it was awkward all the same.
Spike began to lift the hem of the dress over her head revealing a black lace bra underneath. Unlike her dress the bra was free of dirt, but her underwear had seen better days. Knowing the stress of the bra was only making her bruises hurt more, he stepped behind her and carefully undid the clasp. She quickly crossed her arms over herself until he slipped the tank over her. The cotton felt heavenly against her skin.
Before continuing, Spike grabbed her pants and new underwear from the bag. When he looked at her for permission to continue she nodded and try not to think about what he was doing by looking away.
He hooked his thumbs around her moth-eaten panties and slipped them down her legs. He tried not to stare, but eventually he caught a glimpse of the soft curls below her naval. He knew this had to be uncomfortable for her so he quickly let her step into the new pair and slid them up her legs.
He then lifted her body back onto the coffin and slid the sweatpants on her before carrying her to the couch on which the blanket he had gotten earlier sat. He bundled her up and went back to drag her duffle bag to her side.
He handed her Mr. Gordo then headed for his chair. She wanted to start telling him about her experience, but she was too weary. It can wait until tomorrow.
Chapter 4: Finding your feet
When inside Spike's crypt, Spike set Buffy on top of the sarcophagus with promises of returning. He scurried down to the depths of his layer in search of medical supplies. Finding none, he scooped a blanket from his bed and headed back up the ladder.
Buffy looked up with tired eyes, feet dangling from the edge of the coffin. She was so tired she felt as if she would fall over.
"Listen," Spike spoke roughly and uncertain, "I have to go to your place to get some supplies. I'll bring back some cloths too ...that is, if you want to spend the night."
All Buffy could do was nod in response.
"Do you want me to tell them you're here?"
She looked up into his eyes contemplating her decision then whispered, "If you can put it past them so they won't come."
Spike nodded and gave her a small smile before he trudged out the door.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
It took Spike little time to reach the Summers' residence as he knew the path well. He tried to sneak in the best she could, but of course that didn't really work when all the people he was avoiding were stationed in the living room.
"Where have you been? Where's the Bot?" Dawn was the first to speak.
"She's gone bit," he was careful on his word choosing. He had no idea how he could let them know about Buffy's return and keep them from going after her at the same time. If only he could have used the window.
"The spell didn't work if you were trying to find out," The red-head could tell he knew about her spell. There was no use holding back. Dawn had already found out anyway.
Spike was silent and stared at them from his awkward position. He shifted his weight from side to side a few times before he began. He might as well spill. He would keep them away at Buffy's request by force if he had to anyway.
"She's alive," the group didn't register his words as fast as he had wanted them to, "She's in bad shape. She wants to be alone. I just came over to pick up some supplies. I'll bring her in the morning .if she wants to." They continued to stare at him.
"What?" Dawn squeaked tears starting to roll down her face yet again from when she found out about the spell. She just couldn't take it anymore and ran up to her room and slammed the door. Spike looked at the ground.
"Glenda I need some supplies for the cust on her hands," he spoke softly.
"It worked, but-, " Willow was cut off by Xander. He just put two and two together.
"It worked alright. We brought Buffy back, and left her right where we left her."
Horror struck Willow's face and she silently started to sob again. Xander started for the door, but Spike grabbed him and forced him up against the wall.
"Are you deaf?!" Spike was enraged, "She wants to be left alone. Does that have any meaning to you?!"
Xander's eyes started to leak. His macho play was over. He broke down.
Spike left him there and grabbed the supplies Tara handed to him. He headed upstairs knowing they wouldn't leave for Buffy.
Once in Buffy's room he headed straight for the dresser and pulled out a cotton tank and sweat pants with some undergarments. He pulled a duffle bag from beneath her bed and stuffed all that he collected into it. Pausing, he then grabbed Mr. Gordo and stuffed the pig too. He didn't have time to thank god for letting him enter such a sacred space, he had to get back to Buffy.
"Bring her back, will you." Dawn whispered from her place at the door to her sister's bedroom. Spike turned to look at Dawn's tear stained face and nodded with a smile. He then left the house without a glance back.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
The Slayer had changed her position to an Indian stance by the time Spike had returned. Her basic motor skills were back and she was already trying to find a way to tell Spike about here experiences in Heaven. She just hoped he would help her. What was she thinking, of course he would help her! The visions she saw were going to change, but this was Spike. He still loved her.
"Honey, I'm home," I was funny how he could make such a novelty phrase so twisted. She smiled in acknowledgment. He walked over and set the duffle bag down beside the sarcophagus while positioning himself to face Buffy as she was leaning he back against the railing attached to it. He grabbed some gaze and antiseptic then took her hands in his.
"I'm sorry," he had planned this speech for a long time so Buffy kept quiet; "I didn't save you. I should've been faster, more cunning, but I wasn't. I'm sorry for that."
Buffy was about to find her words when he continued, "I saved you though. Every night I saved you. In every different way you could imagine. 147 days, but I guess today doesn't count now does it." His eyes beamed with joy. He never thought he would get to say those words.
"Thanks," was all she could get out. It was no use telling him it wasn't his fault. She knew from memories given to her he was too stubborn for that.
Once her wounds were tended to, Spike jumped from his perch and pulled out his clothing choice for Buffy. She swung her legs over the side, wincing as bruises hit the stone. Knowing she couldn't get dressed by herself he asked, "May I?"
She nodded not meeting his eyes. She knew he wouldn't take advantage of her in this state, but it was awkward all the same.
Spike began to lift the hem of the dress over her head revealing a black lace bra underneath. Unlike her dress the bra was free of dirt, but her underwear had seen better days. Knowing the stress of the bra was only making her bruises hurt more, he stepped behind her and carefully undid the clasp. She quickly crossed her arms over herself until he slipped the tank over her. The cotton felt heavenly against her skin.
Before continuing, Spike grabbed her pants and new underwear from the bag. When he looked at her for permission to continue she nodded and try not to think about what he was doing by looking away.
He hooked his thumbs around her moth-eaten panties and slipped them down her legs. He tried not to stare, but eventually he caught a glimpse of the soft curls below her naval. He knew this had to be uncomfortable for her so he quickly let her step into the new pair and slid them up her legs.
He then lifted her body back onto the coffin and slid the sweatpants on her before carrying her to the couch on which the blanket he had gotten earlier sat. He bundled her up and went back to drag her duffle bag to her side.
He handed her Mr. Gordo then headed for his chair. She wanted to start telling him about her experience, but she was too weary. It can wait until tomorrow.