Chapter 37: Heart in Hands

Disclaimer: Don't hurt me :P. I'm just playing with Joss' world. It's not mine :P. If it was, d'you think I'd have let Season 7 Buffy and Season 5 Angel end like that:P

Rating: I think I'm boring everyone to death repeating the same thing each time. See the first fourteen chapters if you haven't, yet :)

Summary: This is the summary of the last couple of chapters and anything important I thought needed to be added. :D.

AU from the ending of Season 4. Riley and Buffy have 'made up', while Spike has finally realized his true feelings for Buffy. Daniel, Cassandra, and Dawn, have also uncovered and old poem that may or may not be a prophecy. And, as all prophecies are wont to be, it's cryptic and doesn't make sense :P. Joyce has also been admitted to hospital for a fainting spell that she's had. Riley has also been going to the vamps for a while to get bitten. Spike has discovered, and has led Buffy to him. When she sees Riley, she lets Spike comfort her.

A/N (Goddess! Thank you so much to everyone again! hugs! Four reviews for one chapter again! Thanks for your review, Kim. : ). Yes, Dawn's still trying to soldier on with Christmas. Of course, as Christmas has passed this year and I was too late to get out the chapter on time, there won't be too much more of a mention on Christmas. And Spike was really good to Buffy here. This Spike has had to deal with a few more emotional issues and has gotten a bit more support, so he approached it more gently in this universe, with less gloating at Riley because Buffy is more important to him.

Thank you, Dieu Anonyme! Yes, I just couldn't send Riley off when he'd cheated with Faith. Not without ending the rest of his spiral. He actually does see her when she sees him, but that gets elaborated on in this chapter. : )

Heh, thanks Charity. : ). I hope I've managed to portray Buffy the way I want to. I'm glad you like what I've done. More insights into Buffy coming along. : ).

And thanks to KelleyTheSelfToastablePopTart. :P. Interesting name, btw :P. I'm glad you like it. : )

I apologize for going on and on about the reviews again and not getting to the chapter, but really, guys, I just want to tell you all how much I appreciate it again! It's the only reason I can keep getting chapters out so quickly. : ) My thanks again for coming back and finding 4 review alerts in my inbox. :D. So now, without further ado, onto the chapter! Hope you enjoy :) )

8 8 8

The door slammed open.

"What took you?" I calmly re-corked the bottle and set it aside on the table. "I expected you around three hours ago."

Captain Cardboard didn't answer to the taunt. Instead, he stormed over just as I began to get up and grabbed my shirt and pulled me bodily upwards. With a growl, I wrenched myself free, taking care not to injure G.I Joe even though my brain screamed for me to rip him apart or slowly torture him to death.

I cursed my chip for the umpteenth time as I began to back away steadily. He followed, and I could see the pain and the rage and the impotent fury stamped all over his Iowan-bred-and-born face.

I would have been fine. If I hadn't backed into the pillar.

"Look, I'm not the one who got you into this, pillock," I snarled softly as he moved closer, trying to buy myself some time. "Don't kill the messenger."

"Why the hell not?" he demanded, pulling his arm back.

I saw the stake.

I felt the stake.

How do I describe getting staked?

My unbeating heart jumped. My body convulsed around the bloody thing. I'd always thought I'd go out fighting… fighting the Slayer in my dreams or a horde of demons. Exploding the bloody world and laughin' at my mistake. Takin' down everyone who tried to get me… protectin' the people that mattered. Something grand. I wasn't going to go out without a fight, that was for soddin' sure. But at the hands of a G.I Joe barely off his mother's milk? That probably hurt the most…

"OW! Bloody hell! Oh… god! Hey…"

What the… why aren't I dust?

He yanked it out of me, and I reflexively grabbed my chest in pain as blood dribbled out.

"Plastic wood-grain. Looks real, doesn't it?" Whitebread smirked. "Don't think I don't know what's goin' on with you, Spike. Stay away from her. Or we'll do this for real next time."

He let go of me, then, and started walking away. Even through the burning agony of the hole in my chest, piercing my heart, I started to laugh. It bubbled out of my lungs, my throat, rasping in the air as I laughed my bloody head off. I couldn't soddin' believe it.

He turned back and glared at me.

"Oh, man," I chuckled. "You are really under it, aren't you?"

"What?" he asked angrily.

"Look at you," I gestured, laughing again. "All afraid I'm hot for your honey."

He walked back towards me. "Because you are."

"Well ... yeah," I admitted, still weakly laughing. "But that's not your problem. Even if I wasn't in the picture, you're never gonna be able to hold onto her."

He shoved the hand over my chest and the hole inside spasmed in a fresh burst of agony. "Ow!" I yelped. "Bloody hell!"

"Maybe I didn't almost kill you enough," he muttered darkly.

"Oh come on, you stupid pillock," I groaned. "You're not the long haul guy and you know it."

"Shut up."

Was the entire bloody world in denial?

"You know it," I forced out. "Or else you wouldn't be getting suck jobs from two-bit vampire trulls. Plus, you would have run after her when you saw."

He let go of me, and I staggered to the chair and collapsed. Bloody pillock. I saw him swallow, his Adam's Apple bobbing up and down, making me wish I could tear off his head and drink.

"I tried."

"Lemme guess," I smirked. "She'd drained too much of you for you to get too far? Or were you just too busy?"

He swallowed again and didn't answer. I decided to twist the knife a little more.

"That's my answer, then. But the girl doesn't just need a guy who'd run after her, the girl needs some monster in her man ... and that's not in your nature," I sneered, then deliberately looked down at my chest and back to his eyes. "No matter how low you try to go."

He had the grace to look slightly ashamed beneath his stony faced exterior. Then again, that wasn't saying much.

I shakily grabbed the bottle I'd left unattended and uncorked it. Taking a swig, I felt the liquor burn its way down my throat. "You made her cry, you know."

"Did I?" he laughed bitterly. "And that's supposed to mean something?"

Something hardened in my heart. With a hole in it. And lots of blood still seeping out. When Whitebread had gone, I'd need to bandage it. "Of course it bloody well does. I'm sure it was the best Christmas present you ever gave to her."

"I didn't get her a Christmas present," he mumbled.

"Well then, m' point's proved," I snorted, shaking my head.

"You don't understand, do you?" he demanded angrily, pacing around the floor of my crypt. "You just don't understand. It was all about her. Her and her fascination with vampires. All I did was find out why. Why she felt like that."

"No you didn't," I disagreed bluntly. "You went and got yourself suck-jobs. She's the Slayer. We vampires… it's a bloody dance it is, through the centuries. You and your two-bit trulls have nothing on that. You still haven't got a clue what's between us."

"You stay away from her, Spike," he glared at me, the truth in my words hitting him hard. "You touch her, and I'll kill you."

"I'd a' killed you a long time ago if it wasn't for this chip you shoved in my cranium," I shot back. "Ain't love bloody grand?"

Hatred flamed in his eyes. "I don't know why the hell she trusts you," he threw bitterly at me. "You're nothing but a demon."

"And you're nothing but a man who cheated on her only the soddin' Devil knows how many times," I threw back. "Makes you no better than me."

"Don't preach to me," he hissed. "You're soulless."

"An' that's supposed to mean something?" I laughed harshly. "You stupid idiots. What I know of a soul you couldn't even begin to comprehend."

"You're a soulless demon," he snapped.

I stood, holding my heart in my hand, looking down at him. He'd collapsed into a chair awhile ago, tired by the incessant pacing and his already stretched nerves. I could smell the blood on him. Could smell the bites. Could smell her, mingled with all the other females' scents. She rose above them like a bloody goddess.

"I'm a hundred-plus years older than you, Riley," I used his name for the first time, and I saw his eyes dilate in confusion and shock as I switched to gameface. "Remember that the next time you think of tangling with me, boy."

He sneered, attempting to bluff his way out of the scent of fear that had suddenly surrounded him. "Well," he pointed at my chest. "Looks like I have a lot to fear."

I growled. "The only reason I haven't gotten you killed yet is because she happens to be crazy enough at the moment to care about you. Although with what you've done, 'm guessing I won't have to worry about that soon."

He couldn't say anything to that.

When he left, the crypt door slamming subduedly shut behind him, I finally collapsed properly and let the wound in my heart bleed.

8 8 8

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

The middle-aged man narrowed his eyes, his mind jumping from fact to fact as it began to build a picture in front of him of what they were investigating.

"This is highly unusual and most unorthodox," he mused.

She patted him on the shoulder affectionately. "What could you expect, papa? It's Buffy Summer's we're talking about. She's always been the most…"

"Unusual…"

"Unorthodox…"

"Unique Slayer," she smiled. "It's how she's been most effective."

"Indeed," he nodded. "So you're certain, then?"

"Yes," he repeated again, shifting the tea in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. "It was unquestionable. Just take a look at the graphs."

They carefully scanned the documents inside. "Well then, aside from the surges from the Hellmouth we have been monitoring and the surges of the enjoining spell Mr. Giles detailed, there have been three large ones, the largest dating back to the first surge of the enjoining spell?"

"It appears so," she furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure I like this, Papa. It seems like the Hellmouth has been rather crowded as of late. I'm not doubting her prowess, but might it be a little…?"

He followed her thoughts, nodded, and smiled. "Yes, I do believe it is time."

8 8 8

I pushed the crypt door open. "Spike?"

He didn't appear to be there. I frowned slightly and wondered why I was disappointed.

Don't be stupid, girl. Of course you're disappointed. He's the only one you can talk to at the moment…

The only one who'll understand.

"OW! Bloody, soddin' hell!"

Okay, he was here.

I followed his voice and moved to the trapdoor, lifting it easily and climbing slowly down the ladder. When I'd lightly jumped to reach the bottom, I turned around, and I gasped.

He sat on the edge of his bed, bandages laid out next to him, minus his shirt. He was muttering curses as he tried to bandage himself.

First thought. Oh God he has washboard abs.

Second thought. What the hell is that big bloody (literally) hole doing in his chest!

"Spike!" I gasped.

He spun around quickly towards my voice, and then grabbed his chest in pain. "OW! God, Slayer, don't scare a vamp like that!"

"What the hell happened to you!" I demanded, staring at that hole, my heart in my throat. He'd somehow managed to slow most of the bleeding a wound that size would give, but that just served to clear the view. I swallowed. The white of his ribs shone dully in the side, poking out from flesh…

Oh my god. That's his heart.

Before he could reply, I was at his side, grabbing the bandage he'd been trying to futilely wind around his chest and fishing my first aid kit from my pocket. Well… not much of a first aid kit. Just a few bandages and some antiseptic towels. But hey, Slayer here.

"Hey now, Slayer, what are you…"

"Shut up and stop moving your chest," I gritted my teeth as I carefully extricated an antiseptic towel and dabbed slightly at the edge.

He howled in pain. "Dammit, woman! I'm a vampire, I don't get infected!"

"Don't care," I shot back as I staved off my worry and cleaned off the blood. My heart hammered in my chest. Oh God, what could have done this to him?

If there was a demon out there strong enough to take down Spike like this… I swallowed and examined the wound further. Why wasn't he dust yet?

When I was done, I discarded the antiseptic towels and brought out the padded bandages, peeled the backing off of one and pressing it gently to his chest to cover the wound. Then I took the wrapping bandages from his nerveless hands and covered it firmly, trying to ignore the slight intake of breath every time I pressed a little too hard.

"There," I breathed, securing it with a butterfly clip. I smiled shakily and looked up into his eyes.

His eyes…

Blue, so intense and passionate and furious with whirling emotion. I would have taken a step back before. Now, I just ducked my head.

"Now tell me which demon's ass we're going to have to kick together."

As I looked up at him again, I started. Just like that, his eyes had metamorphosed into glittering, hard, ice.

"Spike?" I tried.

He looked away from me then, and I felt bitterness fall around him like his leather duster. "Wasn't a demon. You think any demon would be able to do this to me?"

"Wasn't a…"

The implications of that pounded into me. Like a hammer and a big, pointy nail.

"Riley," I whispered.

"That obvious, huh?" he turned back towards me and I saw a sharp glint of hurt irradiating from his cerulean eyes. "This chip," he said softly. "I've been reduced to this."

The bottle of brandy I hadn't seen before shattered against the wall. I jumped, and he snarled angrily. "William the Bloody. Slayer of Slayers. Would have been killed by a mere mortal if the prick hadn't decided to use plastic wood-grain just to laugh at me!"

The strength of his pain and anger overwhelmed me. So I did the only thing that leapt into my head

I reached out and connected.

8 8 8

20 minutes later…

Their eyes snapped open as she finally broke the link and stopped the stream of images and thoughts, and they faced each other, panting slightly from exertion.

He looked at her, awed.

She hid from the passion and the intensity of his feelings in that gaze.

"Cor, Slayer," he breathed as he felt gratitude and astonishment overwhelm him at her compassion and her vulnerability in opening herself to him. "I love you."

He regretted the words the instant they slipped out of his mouth. But it was too late. In the silence that followed, worlds hung on his mind and his heart, open to the world save for the bandages she'd so gently wrapped around it, leapt into his mouth.

He swallowed.

The silence stretched.

She looked at him gravely. "I know."

8 8 8