Sorry for the long wait between updates. I had a bit of writer's block,
but I still plan on finishing this story. I hope everyone's still with me.
Don't forget to review! =)
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Spike clicked off the television set and sighed. It was no use. Not even Passions could take his mind off of Buffy. He closed his eyes and pictured her the way she used to be: strong and healthy, soft blond hair cascading down past her shoulders, a light California tan warming her cheeks. The mental picture was soon replaced with that off a frail, sickly girl lying in a hospital bed, her eyes wide with fright and red from tears and exhaustion. The image was too much for him to take.
He collapsed onto his bed desperate for sleep to overtake him. It was torture being trapped in his crypt, but until the sun set, there was really nothing he could do. The only thing keeping him sane was the hope that Willow would stop by and give him some news about the slayer.
More than anything he wanted to be with Buffy, to hold her in his arms and kiss away her tears. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. He loved her, loved her with all his being. It was no use analyzing his emotions or trying to make his feelings go away. He knew it was insane, a vampire loving a slayer, but none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was Buffy. It didn't take long before his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.
Moments later a figure arrived at the crypt and paused outside the entrance. The intruder silently opened the door and stepped inside. He noticed the sleeping vampire and an evil smile spread across his lips. "Tonight," he whispered. "Enjoy your sleep vampire because tonight you'll meet your...Oh crap!!"
Xander tripped over an untied shoelace and grabbed onto the door handle for support. He watched in terror as Spike stirred in his sleep, sure that the vampire would awaken at the noise. To his relief Spike merely mumbled something incoherent and settled back down. After his heart had stopped pounding, Xander pulled a folded note out of his pocket. He left it in a place where Spike was sure to notice it and quietly hurried out the door.
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Buffy was awoken by the sound of footsteps at the door. She opened her eyes and saw Willow standing in the doorway, a bouquet of yellow daffodils in her arms.
"Hey sleepyhead," said the witch with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
The blonde girl yawned and stretched her arms. "Tired, but the doctor said it's a normal side effect of the medication. Ooo pretty flowers. Those for me?"
Willow shook her head jokingly. "Actually I bought them for myself. I thought they went well with my outfit."
Buffy rolled her eyes and laughed. "Thanks for the support Will."
Grinning, Willow placed the daffodils on a table and sat in a chair near Buffy's bed. It was good to see her friend smile again.
"Of course they're for you silly. This place needed some color. Why do they make hospitals so dreary anyway? Don't they think people would get better faster if the walls weren't the color of moldy mashed potatoes?"
"Mmm moldy mashed potatoes," repeated Buffy. "I think that's what they served for lunch today. Sure looked like it."
Willow gave her friend a sympathetic look and tried to change the subject. "Did your mom arrive yet? Knowing Joyce, she must be worried sick about you."
"Yeah she was here," replied Buffy, her face brightening at the mention of her mother. "She didn't want to leave but the doctor convinced her I needed to rest. Besides, she has a lot of unpacking to do."
The witch nodded with understanding. "Did you tell her yet? About losing your powers?"
Buffy looked down at her hands and nervously picked at her nail polish. "Not yet. I didn't want her to get too upset. Just seeing me in the hospital was enough. All I said was that Spike and I were patrolling last night when I started to feel a little..."
"Spike!" cut in Willow, slapping her forehead. She saw Buffy staring at her in confusion and quickly explained. "I was supposed to let him know what we found out at the hospital and I totally forgot. He was really worried about you last night."
Buffy couldn't help but smile. "He was, huh?" She remembered the look of concern on his face when she tripped in the alleyway, the intensity of his eyes when he thought she was hurt, the joyous surprise on his face when she asked if he would stay with her...
"Umm Buffy," began Willow, interrupting the slayer's thoughts. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you." She averted her gaze and started fidgeting with the bed sheets. "Last night when Spike was sleeping in your bed and you were also sleeping in your bed and I thought he'd gone all grrr but he hadn't...I was just wondering...why was he there?"
A panicked look crossed Buffy's face as she tried to think of a plausible explanation. "Oh that. Well...I was cold," she lied, laughing nervously. "Spike was keeping me warm."
"Oh," said Willow with obvious confusion, "but don't vampires lack body heat?"
Buffy's mouth grew dry. "Right. Forgot about that. Guess that idea was pretty dumb then." She smiled sheepishly.
Willow knew that Buffy was hiding something, but she didn't want to pry any further. "I should probably go now," she said standing up. "I'll find Spike and fill him in on what we know."
"Good idea. Thanks Will," said Buffy, grateful that her friend had dropped the subject. In all truthfulness, she didn't know why she had asked Spike to stay the night. It just felt right at the time. If she didn't understand it herself, there was no way she could explain it to Willow.
Willow said goodbye and disappeared down the long hospital corridor, leaving Buffy alone with her thoughts.
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Spike awoke from a restless sleep and ran a hand through his messy peroxide hair. It was sunset. He could sense it. "About time," he mumbled under his breath.
Even in his dreams he had thought of nothing but Buffy. He'd dreamt that she got better and ran all the way to his crypt to tell him the good news. That was his favorite. In another dream, Buffy was getting weaker and weaker and all Spike had to do was touch her hand to heal her, but she was always the slightest bit out of his reach. He shuddered remembering the desperate look on her face. Now that darkness had fallen, he could finally go and see her for real.
Spike shook his head and laughed at the irony of it all. "A vampire worrying about the slayer," he muttered. "I'm a bloody disgrace to my kind."
He went to get his duster and noticed a folded piece of paper sticking out of the sleeve. Curiously, he picked up the note and read the loopy, cursive handwriting.
Spike,
I have important news about Buffy. Meet me tonight at the Bronze.
Willow
Spike was puzzled by the cryptic message. Why hadn't Willow left the news in the note, or better than that, woken him up to tell him? She must have either felt awkward about disturbing him or was too scared to wake a sleeping vampire. He hoped it was the latter. He did have a reputation to uphold after all.
Dropping the note, Spike threw on his duster and left the crypt. He'd make a quick stop at the Bronze to talk to the witch and then go and find Buffy. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the red- headed woman crossing the opposite end of the graveyard.
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Willow arrived at Spike's crypt shortly after sunset and knocked softly on the door. "Spike?" she shouted after receiving no answer. "It's me, Willow!"
The witch glanced around nervously and held on tightly to her stake. She really wished Xander had been home when she called. Being alone in a graveyard after sunset was not the safest idea. Sure she had started experimenting with magic, but she was afraid that if a vamp jumped out at her, she'd forget everything she learned.
When there was still no answer, Willow slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside the crypt. She looked around to see if Spike might be sleeping, but his bed was empty and the place appeared vamp free. Turning to leave, Willow noticed a folded note on the floor and knelt to pick it up. She read the message and her eyes grew wide.
"Who wrote this?" she whispered, her voice shaky. "Someone's pretending to be me." The handwriting looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it before. Obviously someone was trying to lure Spike to the Bronze, but who and why? Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good.
Willow pocketed the note and headed outside into the still, starless night. She set off in the direction of Sunnydale's favorite nightclub. "No one impersonates me and gets away with it," she mumbled.
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Spike walked briskly down the deserted side street, pausing only once to light up a cigarette. The Bronze was a block away and he could already hear the loud dance music and the laughter of naïve teenagers, unaware of the danger surrounding them. Vampires loved the noisy nightclub. It was like a fast food restaurant for the undead.
He passed by numerous darkened alleyways, never giving them a second thought. Demons usually didn't bother other demons. Not without good reason anyway. Therefore, Spike was completely unprepared when a dark figure jumped out of the shadows and hit him forcefully across the forehead with a club. He groaned painfully and fell to the ground, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in his head. Though he was only half conscious, he could make out two voices, two very familiar voices.
"Wow Giles! I'm impressed. Knocked him out on the first swing!"
"Yes. Now will you hand me the stake so we can get this over with?"
"Oh right. Hey! How come you get to stake him? I hate him just as much as you do. Probably even more."
"Xander!"
"Fine, fine. Here. Take away all my fun."
Spike opened his eyes and tried to focus on his attackers. He saw Giles standing over him with a stake. Xander was a few feet behind and armed with a crossbow. Giles took a small step forward and Spike knew he had to think of something fast. In one swift movement, he struck Giles's ankle with his heel of his boot, causing the startled watcher to fall backwards and crash into Xander. The three men scrambled to their feet, Xander still in possession of the wooden crossbow. Without a second thought, the dark-haired man raised his weapon and aimed for the kill.
"Xander don't!" shouted a female voice. Willow ran over to Spike and threw herself in front of him, just as Xander released the trigger. A sharp pain pierced through Willow's body and for a moment, she wondered why her white top was stained with red. She fell backwards into Spike's arms and everything went black.
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Spike clicked off the television set and sighed. It was no use. Not even Passions could take his mind off of Buffy. He closed his eyes and pictured her the way she used to be: strong and healthy, soft blond hair cascading down past her shoulders, a light California tan warming her cheeks. The mental picture was soon replaced with that off a frail, sickly girl lying in a hospital bed, her eyes wide with fright and red from tears and exhaustion. The image was too much for him to take.
He collapsed onto his bed desperate for sleep to overtake him. It was torture being trapped in his crypt, but until the sun set, there was really nothing he could do. The only thing keeping him sane was the hope that Willow would stop by and give him some news about the slayer.
More than anything he wanted to be with Buffy, to hold her in his arms and kiss away her tears. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. He loved her, loved her with all his being. It was no use analyzing his emotions or trying to make his feelings go away. He knew it was insane, a vampire loving a slayer, but none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was Buffy. It didn't take long before his eyes grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.
Moments later a figure arrived at the crypt and paused outside the entrance. The intruder silently opened the door and stepped inside. He noticed the sleeping vampire and an evil smile spread across his lips. "Tonight," he whispered. "Enjoy your sleep vampire because tonight you'll meet your...Oh crap!!"
Xander tripped over an untied shoelace and grabbed onto the door handle for support. He watched in terror as Spike stirred in his sleep, sure that the vampire would awaken at the noise. To his relief Spike merely mumbled something incoherent and settled back down. After his heart had stopped pounding, Xander pulled a folded note out of his pocket. He left it in a place where Spike was sure to notice it and quietly hurried out the door.
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Buffy was awoken by the sound of footsteps at the door. She opened her eyes and saw Willow standing in the doorway, a bouquet of yellow daffodils in her arms.
"Hey sleepyhead," said the witch with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
The blonde girl yawned and stretched her arms. "Tired, but the doctor said it's a normal side effect of the medication. Ooo pretty flowers. Those for me?"
Willow shook her head jokingly. "Actually I bought them for myself. I thought they went well with my outfit."
Buffy rolled her eyes and laughed. "Thanks for the support Will."
Grinning, Willow placed the daffodils on a table and sat in a chair near Buffy's bed. It was good to see her friend smile again.
"Of course they're for you silly. This place needed some color. Why do they make hospitals so dreary anyway? Don't they think people would get better faster if the walls weren't the color of moldy mashed potatoes?"
"Mmm moldy mashed potatoes," repeated Buffy. "I think that's what they served for lunch today. Sure looked like it."
Willow gave her friend a sympathetic look and tried to change the subject. "Did your mom arrive yet? Knowing Joyce, she must be worried sick about you."
"Yeah she was here," replied Buffy, her face brightening at the mention of her mother. "She didn't want to leave but the doctor convinced her I needed to rest. Besides, she has a lot of unpacking to do."
The witch nodded with understanding. "Did you tell her yet? About losing your powers?"
Buffy looked down at her hands and nervously picked at her nail polish. "Not yet. I didn't want her to get too upset. Just seeing me in the hospital was enough. All I said was that Spike and I were patrolling last night when I started to feel a little..."
"Spike!" cut in Willow, slapping her forehead. She saw Buffy staring at her in confusion and quickly explained. "I was supposed to let him know what we found out at the hospital and I totally forgot. He was really worried about you last night."
Buffy couldn't help but smile. "He was, huh?" She remembered the look of concern on his face when she tripped in the alleyway, the intensity of his eyes when he thought she was hurt, the joyous surprise on his face when she asked if he would stay with her...
"Umm Buffy," began Willow, interrupting the slayer's thoughts. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you." She averted her gaze and started fidgeting with the bed sheets. "Last night when Spike was sleeping in your bed and you were also sleeping in your bed and I thought he'd gone all grrr but he hadn't...I was just wondering...why was he there?"
A panicked look crossed Buffy's face as she tried to think of a plausible explanation. "Oh that. Well...I was cold," she lied, laughing nervously. "Spike was keeping me warm."
"Oh," said Willow with obvious confusion, "but don't vampires lack body heat?"
Buffy's mouth grew dry. "Right. Forgot about that. Guess that idea was pretty dumb then." She smiled sheepishly.
Willow knew that Buffy was hiding something, but she didn't want to pry any further. "I should probably go now," she said standing up. "I'll find Spike and fill him in on what we know."
"Good idea. Thanks Will," said Buffy, grateful that her friend had dropped the subject. In all truthfulness, she didn't know why she had asked Spike to stay the night. It just felt right at the time. If she didn't understand it herself, there was no way she could explain it to Willow.
Willow said goodbye and disappeared down the long hospital corridor, leaving Buffy alone with her thoughts.
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Spike awoke from a restless sleep and ran a hand through his messy peroxide hair. It was sunset. He could sense it. "About time," he mumbled under his breath.
Even in his dreams he had thought of nothing but Buffy. He'd dreamt that she got better and ran all the way to his crypt to tell him the good news. That was his favorite. In another dream, Buffy was getting weaker and weaker and all Spike had to do was touch her hand to heal her, but she was always the slightest bit out of his reach. He shuddered remembering the desperate look on her face. Now that darkness had fallen, he could finally go and see her for real.
Spike shook his head and laughed at the irony of it all. "A vampire worrying about the slayer," he muttered. "I'm a bloody disgrace to my kind."
He went to get his duster and noticed a folded piece of paper sticking out of the sleeve. Curiously, he picked up the note and read the loopy, cursive handwriting.
Spike,
I have important news about Buffy. Meet me tonight at the Bronze.
Willow
Spike was puzzled by the cryptic message. Why hadn't Willow left the news in the note, or better than that, woken him up to tell him? She must have either felt awkward about disturbing him or was too scared to wake a sleeping vampire. He hoped it was the latter. He did have a reputation to uphold after all.
Dropping the note, Spike threw on his duster and left the crypt. He'd make a quick stop at the Bronze to talk to the witch and then go and find Buffy. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the red- headed woman crossing the opposite end of the graveyard.
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Willow arrived at Spike's crypt shortly after sunset and knocked softly on the door. "Spike?" she shouted after receiving no answer. "It's me, Willow!"
The witch glanced around nervously and held on tightly to her stake. She really wished Xander had been home when she called. Being alone in a graveyard after sunset was not the safest idea. Sure she had started experimenting with magic, but she was afraid that if a vamp jumped out at her, she'd forget everything she learned.
When there was still no answer, Willow slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside the crypt. She looked around to see if Spike might be sleeping, but his bed was empty and the place appeared vamp free. Turning to leave, Willow noticed a folded note on the floor and knelt to pick it up. She read the message and her eyes grew wide.
"Who wrote this?" she whispered, her voice shaky. "Someone's pretending to be me." The handwriting looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she'd seen it before. Obviously someone was trying to lure Spike to the Bronze, but who and why? Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good.
Willow pocketed the note and headed outside into the still, starless night. She set off in the direction of Sunnydale's favorite nightclub. "No one impersonates me and gets away with it," she mumbled.
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Spike walked briskly down the deserted side street, pausing only once to light up a cigarette. The Bronze was a block away and he could already hear the loud dance music and the laughter of naïve teenagers, unaware of the danger surrounding them. Vampires loved the noisy nightclub. It was like a fast food restaurant for the undead.
He passed by numerous darkened alleyways, never giving them a second thought. Demons usually didn't bother other demons. Not without good reason anyway. Therefore, Spike was completely unprepared when a dark figure jumped out of the shadows and hit him forcefully across the forehead with a club. He groaned painfully and fell to the ground, trying to ignore the throbbing ache in his head. Though he was only half conscious, he could make out two voices, two very familiar voices.
"Wow Giles! I'm impressed. Knocked him out on the first swing!"
"Yes. Now will you hand me the stake so we can get this over with?"
"Oh right. Hey! How come you get to stake him? I hate him just as much as you do. Probably even more."
"Xander!"
"Fine, fine. Here. Take away all my fun."
Spike opened his eyes and tried to focus on his attackers. He saw Giles standing over him with a stake. Xander was a few feet behind and armed with a crossbow. Giles took a small step forward and Spike knew he had to think of something fast. In one swift movement, he struck Giles's ankle with his heel of his boot, causing the startled watcher to fall backwards and crash into Xander. The three men scrambled to their feet, Xander still in possession of the wooden crossbow. Without a second thought, the dark-haired man raised his weapon and aimed for the kill.
"Xander don't!" shouted a female voice. Willow ran over to Spike and threw herself in front of him, just as Xander released the trigger. A sharp pain pierced through Willow's body and for a moment, she wondered why her white top was stained with red. She fell backwards into Spike's arms and everything went black.