*****
Chapter 22: Confessions
*****
Andrea was barely conscious as Spike scooped her up in his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder. Please, God, don't let it be too late, he prayed silently as he moved out of the room into the foyer to join Buffy and the others.
The slayer that Spike wasn't carrying came running toward him. A headless demon lay slumped in the corner. The gang looked a bit bloody, and slightly ragged, but had fared pretty well against the Mellora.
"Did the spell work?" Willow asked. "Is she okay?"
"Yes, it did. We have to get her to the hospital. She's lost a lot of blood."
* * *
"I'm glad she's going to be alright," Buffy said, joining Spike beside Andrea's hospital bed.
"Yeah, me too," he admitted softly.
"They'd gotten her to the hospital in record time. When they'd reached Sunnydale General, she'd been placed on a gurney and hurried to an emergency exam room.
Andrea had then received a blood transfusion and twelve stitches in the back. Her other wounds had been treated with peroxide. They weren't too serious. An IV slowly dripped antibiotics into her blood stream in order to prevent a nasty infection in the amateur surgical wound on her back.
Spike tenderly took her hand, as Andrea lay sleeping on the cot.
"You really love her, don't you?" Buffy asked softly.
"Yeah, Slayer. I really do."
"Have you told her yet?" Spike shook his head, tears beginning to well in his eyes.
"What if she'd died?" His voice cracked but he ignored it and continued. "What if I'd never gotten to tell her -" He was cut off by a weak moan coming from the small blonde woman on the bed in front of him. Andrea's eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly up at him.
"Hey, you," she greeted.
"I'll leave you two alone," Buffy said, winking at Andrea as she backed out of the room. After a short silence, Andrea spoke again.
"How did you find me?" She had no need to elaborate; he knew what she meant.
"I have my ways, love. Are you in pain?" he asked softly.
"No, not at all." The pale tint in her complexion betrayed her denial. He smiled at her stubbornness.
"Liar." She struggled into a sitting position, gasping sharply at the pain that stabbed through her back at the movement.
"Can I go home now?" she asked.
"I don't know, pet." They looked up when a shadow appeared in the doorway.
"Ms. Summers told me you were awake. I'm Dr. Palmer. I examined you earlier. I put in your stitches."
"Can I go home now?" she repeated.
The doctor was a short woman, maybe 5'2". She had long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail and warm brown eyes. Andrea liked her instantly. Dr. Palmer chuckled.
"Not so fast. Let me examine you again, then we'll see."
* * *
"Spike, I'm not a goddamn cripple," Andrea assured him, even though she accepted his hand as he helped her out of her car. He grinned at her indignity.
"I got Buffy to bring Jill back here from my crypt and clean up a little."
"Thank you." She swung the door to her house open and stepped inside, sighing deeply. "It's good to be home."
Jill rushed to greet them, gracefully leaping into Andrea's waiting arms. The cat affectionately licked her owner's nose. "Hey, baby," she said, lovingly scratching Jill's neck. "Miss me?" The cat meowed softly and gazed at Spike.
"I know, I know. I got her here, didn't I?" Spike said at Jill's accusatory glare. She nuzzled his hand forgivingly. Andrea set her on the ground, wincing slightly when she attempted to remove her coat and pain stabbed through her. "Here," Spike offered quickly, rushing to her aid.
"Thanks," she said as he helped her slip off the coat.
"My pleasure, kitten. Come on," he continued, hanging her coat on the rack, "let's get you upstairs and into something a little less. . ." He searched for the right word. "Bloody." She smiled as he followed her up the stairs to her bedroom.
"I've been meaning to ask you something," she started, stepping into her room. He nodded for her to continue. "Why didn't you chip go off when you fought James?" He arched his eyebrows.
"I'm surprised you caught that, love. You were a little out of it."
"I almost didn't."
"Red worked a bit of temporary mojo. It's probably already worn off." She nodded.
"Can we torch this dress once I'm out of it?" she asked, only half joking. He smiled.
"Sure, pet. Whatever you want." She took a step toward him, hazel eyes flashing with emotion.
"Whatever I want?" she asked suggestively.
Andrea was barely conscious as Spike scooped her up in his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder. Please, God, don't let it be too late, he prayed silently as he moved out of the room into the foyer to join Buffy and the others.
The slayer that Spike wasn't carrying came running toward him. A headless demon lay slumped in the corner. The gang looked a bit bloody, and slightly ragged, but had fared pretty well against the Mellora.
"Did the spell work?" Willow asked. "Is she okay?"
"Yes, it did. We have to get her to the hospital. She's lost a lot of blood."
* * *
"I'm glad she's going to be alright," Buffy said, joining Spike beside Andrea's hospital bed.
"Yeah, me too," he admitted softly.
"They'd gotten her to the hospital in record time. When they'd reached Sunnydale General, she'd been placed on a gurney and hurried to an emergency exam room.
Andrea had then received a blood transfusion and twelve stitches in the back. Her other wounds had been treated with peroxide. They weren't too serious. An IV slowly dripped antibiotics into her blood stream in order to prevent a nasty infection in the amateur surgical wound on her back.
Spike tenderly took her hand, as Andrea lay sleeping on the cot.
"You really love her, don't you?" Buffy asked softly.
"Yeah, Slayer. I really do."
"Have you told her yet?" Spike shook his head, tears beginning to well in his eyes.
"What if she'd died?" His voice cracked but he ignored it and continued. "What if I'd never gotten to tell her -" He was cut off by a weak moan coming from the small blonde woman on the bed in front of him. Andrea's eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly up at him.
"Hey, you," she greeted.
"I'll leave you two alone," Buffy said, winking at Andrea as she backed out of the room. After a short silence, Andrea spoke again.
"How did you find me?" She had no need to elaborate; he knew what she meant.
"I have my ways, love. Are you in pain?" he asked softly.
"No, not at all." The pale tint in her complexion betrayed her denial. He smiled at her stubbornness.
"Liar." She struggled into a sitting position, gasping sharply at the pain that stabbed through her back at the movement.
"Can I go home now?" she asked.
"I don't know, pet." They looked up when a shadow appeared in the doorway.
"Ms. Summers told me you were awake. I'm Dr. Palmer. I examined you earlier. I put in your stitches."
"Can I go home now?" she repeated.
The doctor was a short woman, maybe 5'2". She had long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail and warm brown eyes. Andrea liked her instantly. Dr. Palmer chuckled.
"Not so fast. Let me examine you again, then we'll see."
* * *
"Spike, I'm not a goddamn cripple," Andrea assured him, even though she accepted his hand as he helped her out of her car. He grinned at her indignity.
"I got Buffy to bring Jill back here from my crypt and clean up a little."
"Thank you." She swung the door to her house open and stepped inside, sighing deeply. "It's good to be home."
Jill rushed to greet them, gracefully leaping into Andrea's waiting arms. The cat affectionately licked her owner's nose. "Hey, baby," she said, lovingly scratching Jill's neck. "Miss me?" The cat meowed softly and gazed at Spike.
"I know, I know. I got her here, didn't I?" Spike said at Jill's accusatory glare. She nuzzled his hand forgivingly. Andrea set her on the ground, wincing slightly when she attempted to remove her coat and pain stabbed through her. "Here," Spike offered quickly, rushing to her aid.
"Thanks," she said as he helped her slip off the coat.
"My pleasure, kitten. Come on," he continued, hanging her coat on the rack, "let's get you upstairs and into something a little less. . ." He searched for the right word. "Bloody." She smiled as he followed her up the stairs to her bedroom.
"I've been meaning to ask you something," she started, stepping into her room. He nodded for her to continue. "Why didn't you chip go off when you fought James?" He arched his eyebrows.
"I'm surprised you caught that, love. You were a little out of it."
"I almost didn't."
"Red worked a bit of temporary mojo. It's probably already worn off." She nodded.
"Can we torch this dress once I'm out of it?" she asked, only half joking. He smiled.
"Sure, pet. Whatever you want." She took a step toward him, hazel eyes flashing with emotion.
"Whatever I want?" she asked suggestively.