80

"Will you listen to me now, luv?" Spike asked. "I told you that you needed to eat or you'd keel over."

Rose seemed very intent on looking anywhere but at Spike.

"Rose, please look at me." Voice warm and soft as velvet. When she finally complied, he just looked into her eyes for long minutes. "I want you to promise me you're going to take better care of yourself, pet." The words were demanding, the tone, pleading. "Do you have any idea how this makes me feel? Feels like I've bloody well failed you, again."

"Oh, Spike, no," Rose protested. "It wasn't your fault at all. It was my irresponsibility, not yours."

Spike's face looked grim. "I still haven't heard that promise," he prompted.

"I promise," she replied meekly. "Only please don't be upset with me."

The storm clouds passed, and his face brightened. "I'm not upset at you, pet, just for you. You worried me."

There was a soft tap at the door, and Lorne entered, carrying a bowl of something steamy. The Pylean had made himself at home to the extent of removing his jacket and untying his tie. He sat on the other side of the bed and dipped a spoon into the bowl. "Open up," he commanded, holding a spoonful of the soup to Rose's lips.

Rose started to open her mouth to protest, and Lorne neatly slipped the spoon in, forcing her to eat.

She swallowed, glaring at Lorne. "I can feed myself," she muttered through barely parted lips.

"Let's just do a quick little test then, shall we?" Lorne suggested. "All you have to do is hold out your hand, sweetie."

Rose did so, and the hand was visibly shaking.

"Looks like you'd better let the nice demon spoon-feed you, luv," Spike remarked.

Something about the words nice and demon together struck her as amusing, and a broad smile crept over her face.

"That's better," Spike murmured. "I haven't seen too much of that the last few days. You've been so serious that I almost thought you'd forgotten how." He stretched out beside her, just to be close to her, not that close meant all that much in his current condition.

"Listen kids, that's very sweet and all," Lorne interjected. "But the soup's getting cold. So, let's get this into you and put the bloom back on our Rose."

Rose sighed, rolled her eyes and obediently opened her mouth.

&&&&&&&

Wesley walked back to his office, lost in thought. Well, that threw off a few of his plans. Rose had been so good at what she had been doing that he had planned on promoting her rapidly through the ranks to be his second in command. He rather thought that would be a waste of time, now. It struck the ex-Watcher as more than somewhat incongruous that he had one of The Powers That Be as one of his subordinates. But even more curious to him, was what was so important or special about Spike that one of the said Powers felt moved to go to so much trouble in his behalf. Not that he wished Spike any ill, per se, but he rather hoped that Rose's tenure on the physical plane would last quite a while. She was going to be nearly impossible to replace. Of course, now, he knew why.

&&&&&

"Open up the hangar, here comes the airplane," said Spike in a sing-song voice.

Rose nearly choked on her mouthful of soup. Once she had successfully down, she turned to him. "Will you please stop that? I'm supposed to be eating the stuff, not wearing it. Which I nearly was. And Lorne, too."

"Yeah, Spike, can you hold off on the joking until she's done?" Lorne asked. "My dry cleaning bill is already not to be believed." He looked back to his temporary charge. "And if she's a real good girl and makes all gone, maybe Uncle Lorne will even let her get up long enough to put on her jammies."

Rose giggled. "You're as bad as Spike, Lorne. But I hope there's not too much of that left. I already feel like I'm about to burst."

"Just a couple more bites," Lorne assured her. "You're doing fine, sweetpea." He fed her the last of the soup. "Let's see how you're doing now, punkin."

Rose held out her hand again, and while not rock-steady, the tremors had subsided considerably.

"Okay, doll-baby." Lorne stood up. "Why don't you get changed while I go get your medicine?"

"It's the middle of the day, Lorne," Rose pointed out. "Why on earth should I put on nightclothes?"

"Because, pet, you're spending the rest of the day in bed," Spike informed her. "And if you think I want to see Lorne undressing you, think again." He laid back and put his hands behind his head. "Kind of interested in seeing what you wear to bed." He grinned at her.

Rose got up slowly and carefully and retrieved a bundle of fabric from under her pillow. She moved with great deliberation, but made it to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Useless, she knew. If Spike had really wanted to see such sights as there were, he could have many a time already. But to date, he had been a perfect gentleman.

Spike may have been a little disappointed at her nightwear, but he wasn't at all surprised. It fit in with what her wardrobe had been before he had taken a hand. Full-length pajamas, gathered at the wrist with a little ruffle. White, sprigged with tiny blue flowers. Very sweet, or it would be on a five-year-old. Not, to his mind, fitting togs for a full-grown woman. He wondered if he could talk her into another shopping trip to purchase something a bit more.., inappropriate. Not that he could do more than look at present. But he did like to look. He smiled at the thought of her wearing his idea of women's nightwear.

"Does that mean you like it?" Rose inquired, climbing back into bed.

He made a face. "Not really, pet," he said apologetically. "I was imagining you in something satiny and slinky in black. Something that would show off the assets."

A tinge of pink crossed her features. "Does it really matter?" she inquired. "Who would see me in it?"

"Me, hopefully," Spike answered. "You've got a very nice figure, luv. Seems a right shame to hide it in kiddie p.j.s." He tried on a leer, but it was hard to do when she was wearing those godawful pajamas. "I'd like to see you in something really sexy, babe. Like it even better if..,"

"Time for your medicine," Lorne announced, coming back. He held out a couple of pills and a glass of water. "Down the hatch, kitten."

Rose took the pills and looked at them dubiously. "What are they supposed to do to me?" she asked suspiciously.

"It's just a little something to help you sleep well, punkin," Lorne explained.

"I don't know if I can sleep in the middle of the day," she mumbled.

"Trust me," Lorne said. "Take those and you'd sleep through Armageddon."

&&&&&&&

Lorne was sitting in the living room sipping a glass of tea unenthusiastically when Spike ghosted back through the bedroom door. "Is she asleep?"

"Out like the proverbial light," Spike replied, flinging himself down on a chair. "You want to open that door a crack, Lorne? Just in case she gets the frights or something."

"Not likely," Lorne remarked, but following up Spike's suggestion. "I've seen what that stuff can do. Funny, back at the firm, the doctor said a mild sedative. That stuff is not what I'd call mild. It would put down a charging rhino."

"Wonder why he changed his mind," Spike mused. "Makes me a bit nervous, it does. Maybe you'd better call Angel and tell him about it. He might want to ask that doctor a few pointed questions."

"Sounds like a plan." Lorne made the call and explained things to Angel with a promise of further reports as deemed necessary.

"God, what I wouldn't give for a smoke," Spike observed. "I may not have nerves in the technical sense, but something's so keyed up that I could climb the flipping walls."

"Ah, young love," Lorne sighed. He raised his glass of tea in a mock salute. "Very touching."

Spike flipped him off. "So what's your interest in this? Still trying to tempt Rose onto the stage and into the bright lights?"

Lorne shook his head. Knowing what he did now, he knew that it was a waste of time. "Just a concerned friend, sport, that's all. And you've got to admit, the lady is a charmer." He glanced up at the wall to the picture. "Is that some of Angel's work?"

"Yeah," Spike answered. "Our first date. Right pain it was, having to drag him along. But we had.., fun." It sounded kind of lame, really. Not the sort of thing he'd have gone in for in the old days. But now, it seemed his whole existence, such as it was, revolved around Rose.

"Is it just me, or were you two up on a stage in a couple of those pictures?" Lorne asked.

"Karaoke bar," Spike confirmed. "I was kind of hard put to think of things we could do together." He grinned. "We knocked 'em dead."

"I'm not surprised," Lorne remarked. "I've heard both of you sing." He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine the two voices blended, and came away with a very pleasant impression. "Wish I'd have been there to hear the two of you."

"Maybe some other time." Spike's face got serious. "If there is another time. Seems like every time we go out, I get to sit back and watch something or someone threaten her and wait for my big ponce of a grandsire to come and rescue her. Very bad for my knight in shining armor instincts."

"Well, unless she bounces back within the next day or so, I'd say another time isn't going to be for a while," Lorne observed. "Might make a kind of fun party, though. All the old gang, plus you and Rose out for an evening of fun and song."

Spike made a face. "Bad enough having a third along on a date. But I was never really into group activities. I've always been a one on one kind of guy."

"And I take it that if you get your hunky little bod back, that you're planning a little one on one activity with her?" Lorne asked. "If you don't mind me getting so personal."

"A gentleman never tells," Spike remarked.

"I know, that's why I was asking you."

&&&&&&

Angel may not have been psychic, but he was definitely getting some bad vibes from the doctor. He'd hedged and hemmed and hawed, trying to explain the change in Rose's prescription without actually explaining it. He almost wished that they didn't have to keep Rose's identity a secret. Even someone deep into the darkest intrigues that Wolfram and Hart had ever had to offer would probably think twice before messing around with one of the Powers. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, he had no real idea of what was wrong, but he knew he didn't like it. He picked up the phone. "Lorne? Angel. I couldn't get a straight answer out of that doctor, but I don't feel comfortable with what's going on. So, until or unless you hear otherwise, I'd suggest that you don't give her any more of those pills. Yeah, I'll let you know." He hung up, and reflected on the kind of world it was where a demon was more trustworthy than most people.

&&&&&&&

Lorne was half-dozing, and Spike was pacing around nervously when a low moan came from the bedroom. They were both there in moments.

Rose thrashed around restlessly, moaning as if in pain, but didn't speak, and didn't wake.

"This shouldn't be happening," Lorne remarked worriedly. "She should be so completely out of it that the last trump wouldn't disturb her."

"I don't like this," Spike muttered. "Can't we do something to calm her down?" He didn't know why he was asking Lorne, other than that the demon was the only one there to ask.

"Well, I do have one idea," the Pylean admitted. "Why don't you sit beside her and sing to her?"

"So you can do one of your famous readings on me?" Spike asked. "Get stuffed."

The demon sighed. "I don't need to do a reading on you. But if you could sing something nice and soothing, it might calm her down."

"Why can't you do it?" Spike asked suspiciously.

"I could," Lorne replied. "And it might even work. But I think you have a better chance, ace. Because your voice is the one she's most used to. Someone she trusts and loves. Just sing to her and let her know that you're here for her."

Spike knelt by the head of the bed. "Hold her hand will you? I would but..," He shrugged, knowing he had gotten his point across. Lorne sat on the bed and took Rose's hand in his.

The vampire's shade gave the demon a look. "If the subject should ever come up, you never heard this. It would bloody well ruin my reputation." He began to sing softly, "Blow the winds southerly, southerly, southerly. Blow the winds south o'er the bonnie blue sea. Blow the winds southerly, southerly, southerly. Blow bonnie breeze my true love to me." And Rose quieted and fell into a more natural, peaceful, restful sleep.