Summary: Buffy sees the torture Spike endured to protect her and her sister. Wracked by doubt about her calling and her coming fight with Glory she turns to Spike. Takes place at end of S5 Intervention and goes off canon from there.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, and Mutant Enemy, and were made flesh by the actors that gave them life. I borrow them here out of reverence, with respect and for fun, not profit.

A/N: Thanks to Amunett & Twotoe for their support. Though I bow to Joss in all things, I just can't write Bitch Buffy when she's faced with such incontrovertible proof of Spike's love for her, whether she returns that sentiment or not. And after all, what's not to like about Spike?

Chapter 2 - Blood

After moving the trapdoor back across the entrance to Spike's bed chamber and lighting more candles, Buffy poured some water into the bowl and grabbed a towel from the washstand. Then she sat next to Spike, dipped a corner of the towel into the bowl and started to clean the cuts on his face. Spike opened his eyes and stared in disbelief at the intent look on the Slayer's face.

Feeling some explanation was due, Buffy, without looking into the deep blue eyes that she could feel searching her face, said gently, "After what you did for me and Dawn, it's the least I can do."

Nearly an hour later Buffy had bathed all the open cuts, wrapped strips of torn sheeting to bind the broken ribs and damaged knee, and had stitched up the worst wound on Spike's back with cotton thread from a sewing kit ('ohmygod, a vampire with a SEWING kit!') that Spike had indicated in a small dresser.

Turning him on to his side so as not to irritate the cut across his spine, Buffy regarded the quiet vampire, lying inert with his eyes closed, one eye now swollen almost shut. In spite of his wounds she realised that his battered face still looked noble somehow, even beautiful, and the thought would have bothered her except that she had more pressing concerns. She knew he was in a lot of pain but she had nothing she could do for him for that. He would suffer the pain until slowly his vampire healing began to mend him. Clearly that process had hardly started.

"When did you last feed?" she asked him.

"Dunno." His voice was laboured, and from his ragged, but unnecessary, breathing, she thought he was probably on the verge of lapsing into unconsciousness with the effort of the last hour.

Buffy made another decision. "Spike, sit up."

"Can't", came a barely audible response.

Buffy leaned over and tried to help him into a sitting position but soon realised that the effort was too painful for him. Without a moment's hesitation Buffy laid herself down on the bed next to Spike, whose least damaged eye flew open in alarm.

"It's okay Spike. You're safe. You need to feed before you lose consciousness." She grabbed her hair out of the way and tilted her head to give Spike access to her neck. "Feed from me," she instructed him hoarsely.

"N-no, won't. Can't make me," came the reply Buffy had half expected.

"It's my fault Glory did this to you. You can let me feel real bad about it or you can take my blood and make me feel better. I WANT you to feed from me. I WANT to repay you for what you did for me and Dawn. Please." There was an earnest look in Buffy's eyes as she looked intently at him. "Its' what I want, Spike," she whispered softly.

"But if I hurt you," Spike protested, hardly able to form the words he needed to.

"You won't. I trust you." Buffy murmured and tipped her head again. This time she was rewarded by Spike slipping into his game face. She grasped Spike's upper arms bracing herself for the pain, as Spike's razor-sharp incisors sliced into her neck.

To Buffy's great surprise, after the initial feeling of pressure on her skin, she felt only a sense of extraordinary well-being, bliss almost, as Spike pulled on her blood drinking her life-force, her power, hungrily into him. She allowed herself to relax as each pull on her blood sent tremors of near-pleasure coursing through her body and deep into her gut.

This was new to her. Angel had hurt her when he had taken her blood, although she couldn't honestly say it was all that painful. Angel had been her boyfriend; she had loved him, so she had felt a satisfied wrench, rather than outright pain, as his demon had taken great draughts of her blood.

But this with Spike was different, almost arousing. No, her mind rebelled at the thought that had sprung into her head, that this experience was thrilling, sensual even. Where had that feeling come from? This was Spike, not Angel her first love. Why should this sensation feel so right when Spike was sooo the wrong vampire?

This was Spike, the vampire who a few short weeks ago had had her chained up, threatening to set Dru on her if she didn't confess her 'true' feelings for him. Why should she feel so safe with him now, that she would put herself in this potentially fatal situation with an unsouled master vampire who, declarations of his love for her not withstanding, had regularly threatened to kill her? Buffy and commonsense clearly unmixy, she thought to herself as she allowed herself to enjoy Spike's needy pulls on her blood.

Suddenly, Spike drew back from her, licked the puncture wounds closed with his tongue, and as his one good golden eye shimmered into the deepest blue, he whispered, "Thank you, Slayer," then closed his eyes and laid his head back down on the pillow.

Buffy was startled that Spike had stopped way before she had even started to feel light-headed. Angel had drained her into unconsciousness.

She stared down at the battered features of the enigma that was Spike and, resting her head on one arm, she brought her other arm up to gently caress Spike's cheek with the back of her hand. "Sleep now, Spike," she murmured, "I'll stay to make sure you're safe. Sleep well."

It had been a traumatic day for both of them and soon they were both cocooned in the land of nod.

---------------------

Buffy awoke and was confused as to where she was at first. The cold body of the sleeping vampire in her arms quickly reminded her of reality and she noted with satisfaction that his swollen eye was now just coloured by a purple bruise, and the shallow cuts on Spike's face had all but healed over.

As she looked on the pale, sharp features of this master vampire with curiosity, she suddenly found herself staring into his vivid blue eyes. Without missing a beat, Buffy asked, "How do you feel?"

"Better, luv, thank you." Spike tried to sit up but he flinched, hissed and then cursed under his breath as a sharp pain stabbed into his back. "Think the ribs'll be okay but m'back hurts like the devil." He smiled apologetically.

"Time to feed again then," said Buffy quietly, offering him her neck again, "You need to heal."

Spike's mouth gaped, as he regarded her with a look close to horror on his face. "No way, slayer. You've done more than enough for me already."

"Stupid vampire!" Buffy retorted in a voice that, even to her, sounded way too childish. She tried a more rational, and she hoped, grown-up approach, "Look, I would have given you more the first time but you stopped too soon. So now you should have the rest of what you need to get you better. It's only fair after what you had to go through on my account." Buffy actually blushed as she remembered how he had insisted she not tell Glory about the key when he had thought she was his Buffybot.

"Buffy, luv," Spike used her given name to stress his earnestness, "You've done too much for me already. I don't know why. I'm a bad, rude man. You don't owe me anything. I had no choice. I just couldn't spill the beans on Dawn. It's not something I can help, I just won't tell; can't tell. You don't need to do this for me."

"Maybe I'm not doing this for you, but for me." Buffy bit her bottom lip and Spike, in spite of his injuries, felt a thrill run through him. "Spike, please, you need this. I need to do this."

For a fleeting moment Buffy remembered Riley, a vampire whore suckling at his wrist. And then later, in the Magic Box training room when Riley had told her, "They made me feel something, Buffy. Something I didn't even know I was missing." She shivered at the memory.

Spike saw, felt, the shiver run through her, "You don't have to do this, luv."

"No, I don't HAVE to." Buffy spoke quietly but firmly, "I WANT to do this. Please, Spike."

Sighing in resignation, he shifted his face and moved his fangs to the site of the punctures he had inflicted earlier. Just as he was about to re-open the wounds, Buffy held her hand up to stop him and quickly said, "No, not this side. Here." She moved her hair and offered the other side of her neck, the side where the scars made by Angel were still visible.

Spike's golden eyes looked at Buffy for confirmation, and seeing a tiny bowing of her head, he sunk his fangs into the scars that Angel had caused, obliterating them. He knew his grandsire had been responsible for those marks defiling Buffy's soft skin and his demon rejoiced in supplanting them.

Taking slow, deep draughts of Buffy's powerful slayer blood, Spike was in paradise. Buffy too was transported to heaven in the rapture of each pull he made on her blood. She didn't want the feeling to end and for a moment she wondered, in an idle, unconcerned way, if she would want to stop Spike if he started to drain her. They both relaxed into the heady, sensual experience that they were sharing.

All too soon for both of them, Spike was licking her wounds closed and planting small, light kisses on her neck. "God, Slayer, you're bloody marvellous, pet. Bloody marvellous!" His face was human again and his blue eyes were shining.

"And you're a hero, Spike. I don't know anyone who would have done what you did. Thank you."

"Hey, s'me who should be thanking you, Slayer. You've saved my life, luv."

"But it wouldn't have been in danger if it hadn't have been for me. I'm sorry, Spike."

"Hey, Slayer, how about we knock this mutual admiration society on the head and get a bit of shut-eye?"

To Spike's surprise Buffy nodded her agreement and snuggled up to him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. 'Bugger me,' he thought, 'what's all this about?'

But he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and settled down to sleep in the arms of an angel.

TBC