Spike leaned against the porch railing, wishing he hadn't finished off his
booze 3 hours ago. He'd spent the better part of the last hour trying to
think of reasons not to love Buffy. His number one reason was that she was
pretty damned heartless, asking him to kill himself for her. Of course
he'd die for her, but he'd always hoped if he had to, it would be in a
grand romantic gesture of her salvation. But, no, she was just sick of him,
so she wanted him dust-or did she? Spike was pretty sure she didn't expect
him to sit there all night, but he was bound to prove her wrong and prove
his love once and for all. She'd be content if he just left town, but he
certainly wouldn't be. 'And why does it always have to be about her? I've
had a soddin' chip in my head for a year! I fell in love with the bleedin'
Slayer, through no fault of my own. Unlife's been pretty cruel to me
lately. I deserve some happiness, damnit!' But Spike knew his only
happiness was in Buffy. Unfortunately, his plight to find reasons to not
love Buffy only yielded the one, and most of his time was spent drowning in
the reasons he did love her. He said them allowed just to break the
silence of the night.
"The way she fights...Her complete passion in everything she does. Her intensity. Her strength...The way she loves her family and friends. Her devotion to her duty. Every way she's changed since I was last in Sunnydale... Her smile. Her laugh, though I seldom hear it. Her beautiful, dangerous, sparkling eyes... Her lips. Her hips, and how they move when she's walking away from me-which is always. Her smooth, golden skin. Her bouncy, shiny hair. Her smell...god, that smell drives me crazy. The heat that radiates off her after battle. The way she punches me in the nose like she's not trying to hurt me, but more because it's just habit. The sound of my crypt door being slammed open by her. Her mum. Her sis. How much more mature she is in 20 years than I am in 120. Her unyielding sense of good, and complete rejection of evil." Spike sighed at this. "I love her because she'll never love me. Ain't that a kick in the head?"
Speaking of heads, his was starting to hurt a little. He hadn't had enough booze to give him a hangover, so this type of headache, combined with the tingling he was getting, could mean only one thing. Sunup was approaching quickly. Spike closed his eyes and waited for his fate.
Buffy had woken a little, thinking she was hearing voices. She quickly dismissed it and tried to fall back asleep. But the voices wouldn't go away. Or rather the one voice. 'Oh my god, don't tell me he's still out there. Idiot! Well, fine. He wants to be stupid, let him. Besides, he'll realize how close to dawn it is and he'll take off to the sewers.' Buffy tried to block out the sound, but she couldn't. And she was very curious as to what Spike was saying, most likely to himself. She got out of bed and walked to the window for a better listen. 'Her smell...god, that smell drives me crazy..' Buffy raised her eyebrows and listened intently to Spike's whole ode to her.
"God, he really does love me. That's not possible. How can he...Well, maybe he doesn't *love* me. Maybe he just thinks, in his twisted vampire way, that he does." But Buffy had never heard such declarations from any of her former loves. All two of them. She was on mental overload trying to shake the rest of the sleep from her head, and contemplating the idea that a soulless, evil vampire could really love her. She felt sad for a fleeting moment that she didn't return his love. 'Uh, hello, this is *Spike* we're talking about. No loving, no thoughts of loving. He feels that way about you, it's just too bad.'
Buffy silently wished that Spike could have said those things to her face without feeling the need to chain her up and threaten her with his ex. Reason 153 on a long list of reasons she would never have feelings for Spike. But Spike wasn't horrible. He had been useful. And he was certainly unique among the soulless vampires that Buffy had encountered. 'Why couldn't he just be clean cut evil, like all the vamps I dust daily? Why did he have to be hanging in limbo between evil and not so much? And why can't he be chipless, because I know he'd go back to killing and then I could just stake him without hesitation. And why do I hesitate now? He's killed tons of people, he deserves to die. But he's poor, defenseless Spike. Can't just kill him.'
Buffy was now getting a headache from the mental tug of war. Her head also wasn't appreciating the painfully bright morning sun in her eyes as she was trying to figure out if she should stake...Spike! 'It's all sunny, and he's still out there!' Buffy ran out her door and flew down the stairs. She flung open the front door just in time to see Spike's huddled form catching fire.
"Spike! Oh, god!" Buffy yelled as she grabbed his smoldering collar and dragged him inside. Or tried to, anyway. He bounced off the invisible barrier. Buffy was so confused and frantic that she just kept trying to pull him inside. Finally it hit her, and she quickly yelled, "Damnit, you're invited in, you stupid vampire!" With that, her tugging paid off and she hauled his form over the threshold. She quickly slammed the door and ran to the living room. She returned with a blanket and patted out the remaining flames that hadn't gone out on their own. Spike just laid there in her foyer, smoking.
Buffy knelt down beside him and looked at him curiously. His eyes were closed, but since he wasn't dust, she knew he was alive. But he was badly burned. His face and hands had the brunt of the damage, but she could tell that where his clothes had burned away, his torso and legs had some injuries too. She touched a particularly nasty spot on his face and his eyes jerked open. He looked at her strangely.
"This is hell, isn't it? I knew it!" Spike winced as he tried to chuckle. "I knew wherever I ended up, there you'd be. My heaven or my torment." Spike tried to sit up, but putting his weight on his hands hurt too much so he just laid back down.
"Get a grip, Spike. You're not dead. Though you should be. Don't know why I didn't just let you barbecue yourself out there." Buffy grabbed Spike's arm and hoisted him up. Spike hissed at her harsh grip. She eased up a bit.
"Hey, still, points for intent. Not my fault you didn't let me get all dusty. So you believe me now, right? You wanted me to prove it, and I did. Or at least I would have if you'd let me."
Buffy looked down and said quietly, "I believe you, Spike. Doesn't change how I feel, though."
Spike sighed, "No. I don't imagine it would."
Buffy looked up at Spike, who avoided her gaze. "Come on, let's get you upstairs. I don't want my family knowing you're here. And we better do something about your burns. Kind of my fault...sorta. But not really."
"No, luv, it's ok. I'll just make a dash for the sewers. Wouldn't say no to borrowing a blanket though."
Buffy raised her eyebrows at Spike and looked his body over. "You can barely stand. Don't tell me you're not in pain. I don't think you'd make it to the end of the front walk, much less the sewers."
Spike was indignant. "Hey, I can manage just fine. And what do you care anyway? You're the one who wanted this, remember? Crispy fried Spike. And yeah, I'm in a soddin' lot of pain, but it was worse last night. Next time, just let me dust, ok? Or are these lovely open flesh wounds enough to prove my love this time?" Buffy was bristling, but he continued. "You know, I decided last night that I'd just rather not be in this world anymore, if all I was going to get from you was hate and disgust. I mean, looking at you in love and just getting a glare full of revulsion in return isn't how I imagine spending the rest of my long unlife."
"What do you want me to say, Spike? That I love you? Because I don't. I brought you in from out there because I don't want you dead. That's about all I can give you at this point. It's more than you had last night. You don't even have to leave Sunnydale, because frankly, I'm used to the annoyance that is you. Not really crazy about it, but I can accept it. And yeah, I see that you love me. Fine, I accept that too. But Spike, if you're going to be here, hanging around my life, you have to get over it. Or at least accept that I can't return your feelings. Because while I can put up with you, I can't put up with a moony you. Now, go upstairs so I can fix you up. And be quiet, my mom and Dawn are still asleep, and I'm so *not* in the mood to explain you." Buffy folded her arms and waited for Spike to say something.
Spike just hung his head and started up the stairs. The pain of moving was great, and he cringed with every step. Buffy softened a little at his plight and moved in behind him. She put a supporting hand on his back, trying not to take in the smell of burned leather and flesh. With much effort, Spike finally made it to the top. Buffy led him to her room and shut the door. She looked at him and shook her head.
"Ok, first order of business is different clothes. Those are goners." She dug through her drawers and pulled out some large sweatpants and a big t- shirt. "And definitely a shower, because you reek! I mean, you usually smell like leather and smoke, but not this way!" Buffy blushed a little at the idea of Spike knowing that she noticed how he usually smelled. Spike just nodded mutely. Buffy gingerly took his arm and led him into the bathroom. She got out towels and guest soap for him. She turned the shower on cool. "Well, I'm sure some cool water will feel good on your burns. Don't scrub or anything, that will only make them worse I think. Just try to get the smoky smell out. There's shampoo in there, too. And I'm afraid you're on your own here. The Buffy assistance program ends when nakedness is involved." Buffy blushed again at the thought of naked Spike. She also noticed how much she was talking. And how quiet Spike was. "Are you ok? You're unusually quiet for...well, you!"
Spike just looked at her in irritation, "Fine, Slayer."
"Cranky vampire! What's wrong? I thought you'd love being in my house, showering in my shower, being invited into my bedroom."
"Look, the faster we do this, the faster I can get out of your hair, right? So I'll shower, you'll fix me up, and I'll be on my merry way." Spike wore a very harsh expression.
"Ok, fine. Geez, just trying to...nevermind." Buffy turned and left, closing the door behind her.
By the time Spike came out of the bathroom, Buffy had already gotten dressed and tried to make herself decent with what she had in her room. She didn't relish the idea of hanging out with Spike in her jammies. Just a little too informal. A little too intimate. She jumped a bit when he knocked lightly on her door. She opened it and he entered, keeping his head down. His hair was glistening and she noticed as he passed that he smelled much better. She gave herself a mental smack on the head for noticing at all. 'Hey, he's still a guy. I can appreciate how a guy smells!' Spike held his burnt clothes in a wad in his hands. Buffy pointed to her garbage can. He tossed them in. He laid his duster on her bed.
"That too! It's got holes in it now and it smells like burned cow flesh! It's gone." Buffy made a move to grab it and Spike intercepted her.
"Not bloody likely. I don't care how it looks or smells, it's not yours to toss."
"Fine, but I'm putting it on the window sill so it can air out a little. God, this stinks!" Spike let Buffy take it to the window.
"Ok, let's get you taken care of. I've got this aloe stuff that's supposed to make burns feel better. Soothe and stuff."
"Right, whatever." Spike sat on her bed, and winced again.
Buffy frowned. "It really hurts, doesn't it? I mean, it looks so painful. I can't even imagine." Buffy started to apply the green gel to some of the worst injuries. His hands looked mangled. The entire right side of his face was marred with bright red burns, and he tensed when she touched them. She gently rubbed the aloe on his neck, and blew on the burns to cool them. "Take off your shirt. I know there are some bad ones on your chest."
Spike shook his head. "'s fine, Slayer. I'll heal up all the same." His head drooped, and she could tell he was tired. He had sat out there all night, which was ok, because he was a creature of the night anyway. But now was his sleeping time. And he'd never make it to his crypt.
"Spike...look, don't read more into this than there is, but I want you to stay here. Get a few hours sleep and regain your strength. You can stay until sunset if you want. You just have to keep quiet. I'll go get you some blood, I know that'll help you heal faster."
Spike shook his head again. "No, Slayer. Not gonna impose." He yawned. "Well, maybe I could just take a quick nap. Really a bit knackered. Just a few minutes, if it's not too much trouble." Spike was already looking towards Buffy's pillow with longing.
Buffy smiled, "It's fine. Sleep as long as you need." Spike crawled towards the pillows, flipped over to his back and collapsed in exhaustion.
Buffy walked toward the window to make sure no sun could get through. She gave a thought to tossing the duster out the window, but Spike seemed to sense it.
"Don't even think about it, Slayer." Buffy looked over at him innocently, but his eyes were closed so the expression was lost on him.
Buffy left the room and shut the door quietly. She shook her head and let out a weary sigh. Her life was by no means normal, and it was looking to get a lot more complicated if she was going to have to deal with a lovesick vampire. Buffy headed downstairs and tried to think up a convincing 'breakfast gone wrong' lie to explain the still lingering smoke smell.
**
TBC-whatcha think?
"The way she fights...Her complete passion in everything she does. Her intensity. Her strength...The way she loves her family and friends. Her devotion to her duty. Every way she's changed since I was last in Sunnydale... Her smile. Her laugh, though I seldom hear it. Her beautiful, dangerous, sparkling eyes... Her lips. Her hips, and how they move when she's walking away from me-which is always. Her smooth, golden skin. Her bouncy, shiny hair. Her smell...god, that smell drives me crazy. The heat that radiates off her after battle. The way she punches me in the nose like she's not trying to hurt me, but more because it's just habit. The sound of my crypt door being slammed open by her. Her mum. Her sis. How much more mature she is in 20 years than I am in 120. Her unyielding sense of good, and complete rejection of evil." Spike sighed at this. "I love her because she'll never love me. Ain't that a kick in the head?"
Speaking of heads, his was starting to hurt a little. He hadn't had enough booze to give him a hangover, so this type of headache, combined with the tingling he was getting, could mean only one thing. Sunup was approaching quickly. Spike closed his eyes and waited for his fate.
Buffy had woken a little, thinking she was hearing voices. She quickly dismissed it and tried to fall back asleep. But the voices wouldn't go away. Or rather the one voice. 'Oh my god, don't tell me he's still out there. Idiot! Well, fine. He wants to be stupid, let him. Besides, he'll realize how close to dawn it is and he'll take off to the sewers.' Buffy tried to block out the sound, but she couldn't. And she was very curious as to what Spike was saying, most likely to himself. She got out of bed and walked to the window for a better listen. 'Her smell...god, that smell drives me crazy..' Buffy raised her eyebrows and listened intently to Spike's whole ode to her.
"God, he really does love me. That's not possible. How can he...Well, maybe he doesn't *love* me. Maybe he just thinks, in his twisted vampire way, that he does." But Buffy had never heard such declarations from any of her former loves. All two of them. She was on mental overload trying to shake the rest of the sleep from her head, and contemplating the idea that a soulless, evil vampire could really love her. She felt sad for a fleeting moment that she didn't return his love. 'Uh, hello, this is *Spike* we're talking about. No loving, no thoughts of loving. He feels that way about you, it's just too bad.'
Buffy silently wished that Spike could have said those things to her face without feeling the need to chain her up and threaten her with his ex. Reason 153 on a long list of reasons she would never have feelings for Spike. But Spike wasn't horrible. He had been useful. And he was certainly unique among the soulless vampires that Buffy had encountered. 'Why couldn't he just be clean cut evil, like all the vamps I dust daily? Why did he have to be hanging in limbo between evil and not so much? And why can't he be chipless, because I know he'd go back to killing and then I could just stake him without hesitation. And why do I hesitate now? He's killed tons of people, he deserves to die. But he's poor, defenseless Spike. Can't just kill him.'
Buffy was now getting a headache from the mental tug of war. Her head also wasn't appreciating the painfully bright morning sun in her eyes as she was trying to figure out if she should stake...Spike! 'It's all sunny, and he's still out there!' Buffy ran out her door and flew down the stairs. She flung open the front door just in time to see Spike's huddled form catching fire.
"Spike! Oh, god!" Buffy yelled as she grabbed his smoldering collar and dragged him inside. Or tried to, anyway. He bounced off the invisible barrier. Buffy was so confused and frantic that she just kept trying to pull him inside. Finally it hit her, and she quickly yelled, "Damnit, you're invited in, you stupid vampire!" With that, her tugging paid off and she hauled his form over the threshold. She quickly slammed the door and ran to the living room. She returned with a blanket and patted out the remaining flames that hadn't gone out on their own. Spike just laid there in her foyer, smoking.
Buffy knelt down beside him and looked at him curiously. His eyes were closed, but since he wasn't dust, she knew he was alive. But he was badly burned. His face and hands had the brunt of the damage, but she could tell that where his clothes had burned away, his torso and legs had some injuries too. She touched a particularly nasty spot on his face and his eyes jerked open. He looked at her strangely.
"This is hell, isn't it? I knew it!" Spike winced as he tried to chuckle. "I knew wherever I ended up, there you'd be. My heaven or my torment." Spike tried to sit up, but putting his weight on his hands hurt too much so he just laid back down.
"Get a grip, Spike. You're not dead. Though you should be. Don't know why I didn't just let you barbecue yourself out there." Buffy grabbed Spike's arm and hoisted him up. Spike hissed at her harsh grip. She eased up a bit.
"Hey, still, points for intent. Not my fault you didn't let me get all dusty. So you believe me now, right? You wanted me to prove it, and I did. Or at least I would have if you'd let me."
Buffy looked down and said quietly, "I believe you, Spike. Doesn't change how I feel, though."
Spike sighed, "No. I don't imagine it would."
Buffy looked up at Spike, who avoided her gaze. "Come on, let's get you upstairs. I don't want my family knowing you're here. And we better do something about your burns. Kind of my fault...sorta. But not really."
"No, luv, it's ok. I'll just make a dash for the sewers. Wouldn't say no to borrowing a blanket though."
Buffy raised her eyebrows at Spike and looked his body over. "You can barely stand. Don't tell me you're not in pain. I don't think you'd make it to the end of the front walk, much less the sewers."
Spike was indignant. "Hey, I can manage just fine. And what do you care anyway? You're the one who wanted this, remember? Crispy fried Spike. And yeah, I'm in a soddin' lot of pain, but it was worse last night. Next time, just let me dust, ok? Or are these lovely open flesh wounds enough to prove my love this time?" Buffy was bristling, but he continued. "You know, I decided last night that I'd just rather not be in this world anymore, if all I was going to get from you was hate and disgust. I mean, looking at you in love and just getting a glare full of revulsion in return isn't how I imagine spending the rest of my long unlife."
"What do you want me to say, Spike? That I love you? Because I don't. I brought you in from out there because I don't want you dead. That's about all I can give you at this point. It's more than you had last night. You don't even have to leave Sunnydale, because frankly, I'm used to the annoyance that is you. Not really crazy about it, but I can accept it. And yeah, I see that you love me. Fine, I accept that too. But Spike, if you're going to be here, hanging around my life, you have to get over it. Or at least accept that I can't return your feelings. Because while I can put up with you, I can't put up with a moony you. Now, go upstairs so I can fix you up. And be quiet, my mom and Dawn are still asleep, and I'm so *not* in the mood to explain you." Buffy folded her arms and waited for Spike to say something.
Spike just hung his head and started up the stairs. The pain of moving was great, and he cringed with every step. Buffy softened a little at his plight and moved in behind him. She put a supporting hand on his back, trying not to take in the smell of burned leather and flesh. With much effort, Spike finally made it to the top. Buffy led him to her room and shut the door. She looked at him and shook her head.
"Ok, first order of business is different clothes. Those are goners." She dug through her drawers and pulled out some large sweatpants and a big t- shirt. "And definitely a shower, because you reek! I mean, you usually smell like leather and smoke, but not this way!" Buffy blushed a little at the idea of Spike knowing that she noticed how he usually smelled. Spike just nodded mutely. Buffy gingerly took his arm and led him into the bathroom. She got out towels and guest soap for him. She turned the shower on cool. "Well, I'm sure some cool water will feel good on your burns. Don't scrub or anything, that will only make them worse I think. Just try to get the smoky smell out. There's shampoo in there, too. And I'm afraid you're on your own here. The Buffy assistance program ends when nakedness is involved." Buffy blushed again at the thought of naked Spike. She also noticed how much she was talking. And how quiet Spike was. "Are you ok? You're unusually quiet for...well, you!"
Spike just looked at her in irritation, "Fine, Slayer."
"Cranky vampire! What's wrong? I thought you'd love being in my house, showering in my shower, being invited into my bedroom."
"Look, the faster we do this, the faster I can get out of your hair, right? So I'll shower, you'll fix me up, and I'll be on my merry way." Spike wore a very harsh expression.
"Ok, fine. Geez, just trying to...nevermind." Buffy turned and left, closing the door behind her.
By the time Spike came out of the bathroom, Buffy had already gotten dressed and tried to make herself decent with what she had in her room. She didn't relish the idea of hanging out with Spike in her jammies. Just a little too informal. A little too intimate. She jumped a bit when he knocked lightly on her door. She opened it and he entered, keeping his head down. His hair was glistening and she noticed as he passed that he smelled much better. She gave herself a mental smack on the head for noticing at all. 'Hey, he's still a guy. I can appreciate how a guy smells!' Spike held his burnt clothes in a wad in his hands. Buffy pointed to her garbage can. He tossed them in. He laid his duster on her bed.
"That too! It's got holes in it now and it smells like burned cow flesh! It's gone." Buffy made a move to grab it and Spike intercepted her.
"Not bloody likely. I don't care how it looks or smells, it's not yours to toss."
"Fine, but I'm putting it on the window sill so it can air out a little. God, this stinks!" Spike let Buffy take it to the window.
"Ok, let's get you taken care of. I've got this aloe stuff that's supposed to make burns feel better. Soothe and stuff."
"Right, whatever." Spike sat on her bed, and winced again.
Buffy frowned. "It really hurts, doesn't it? I mean, it looks so painful. I can't even imagine." Buffy started to apply the green gel to some of the worst injuries. His hands looked mangled. The entire right side of his face was marred with bright red burns, and he tensed when she touched them. She gently rubbed the aloe on his neck, and blew on the burns to cool them. "Take off your shirt. I know there are some bad ones on your chest."
Spike shook his head. "'s fine, Slayer. I'll heal up all the same." His head drooped, and she could tell he was tired. He had sat out there all night, which was ok, because he was a creature of the night anyway. But now was his sleeping time. And he'd never make it to his crypt.
"Spike...look, don't read more into this than there is, but I want you to stay here. Get a few hours sleep and regain your strength. You can stay until sunset if you want. You just have to keep quiet. I'll go get you some blood, I know that'll help you heal faster."
Spike shook his head again. "No, Slayer. Not gonna impose." He yawned. "Well, maybe I could just take a quick nap. Really a bit knackered. Just a few minutes, if it's not too much trouble." Spike was already looking towards Buffy's pillow with longing.
Buffy smiled, "It's fine. Sleep as long as you need." Spike crawled towards the pillows, flipped over to his back and collapsed in exhaustion.
Buffy walked toward the window to make sure no sun could get through. She gave a thought to tossing the duster out the window, but Spike seemed to sense it.
"Don't even think about it, Slayer." Buffy looked over at him innocently, but his eyes were closed so the expression was lost on him.
Buffy left the room and shut the door quietly. She shook her head and let out a weary sigh. Her life was by no means normal, and it was looking to get a lot more complicated if she was going to have to deal with a lovesick vampire. Buffy headed downstairs and tried to think up a convincing 'breakfast gone wrong' lie to explain the still lingering smoke smell.
**
TBC-whatcha think?
