Disclaimer: Still not my characters.

Chapter 6

'Are you sure about this?'

They were back in the cafeteria ... again, in the middle of the night... again. Was there ever a time in their lives which had not been spent under harsh strip lights in a featureless, colourless building which smelt of disinfectant and despair? How could they be in one of the loveliest cities in the world? Hope and beauty seemed to be remote, unimaginable things, alien to this new environment in which they found themselves.

Andrew had offered to be on Buffy Watch as he did not really have much to say on the whole 'Does Buffy love Spike?' issue. He had always liked the idea of the vampire and the Slayer romance because he was all about stories and that made a great narrative. But, for that reason, it had never seemed completely real, more like something out of one of his beloved graphic novels (just let anyone dare call them comics). And as someone who had little experience with romantic love, he felt uncomfortable taking part in the discussion.

'Are you sure about this?' Giles looked intently at Willow and Dawn.

'Giles! Spike didn't even do the ritual and look at the improvement in Buffy! It has to be him!' Dawn spoke with the enthusiasm of youth, and as someone who was sure that her sister loved the blond vamp.

Not everyone in the group shared this belief, but they could not really think of anything to say against it. As Willow had said, they were kind of out of options. Xander and Angel looked down at the ugly formica table top of the cafeteria table. They were silent but both were shouting on the inside at the outrageous idea that Spike.. SPIKE! ... might actually be the one for Buffy. What kind of universe would allow that to be true?

Giles thought that he was done fighting the whole notion of Buffy and Spike as a pair. It was too exhausting and where did it get him? Trying to sever their connection had very nearly destroyed his relationship with Buffy permanently when they were in Sunnydale. And in the end, the Slayer had been right; Spike had sacrificed himself to save the world. So who was he to judge?

Spike was sitting next to Willow, with a sardonic, 'Come on then, have a go at the nasty vampire if you dare' expression on his face. He was waiting for all the arguments against the idea that he should try the ritual. But, to his surprise, there were none. No one had any other ideas to put forward and Buffy was still upstairs, lying motionless in that bed. The only person who had made much difference was Spike, so how could they try to stop him?

'Come on! We have to do something!' Dawn's voice was squeaky with eagerness.

Willow squeezed Dawn's hand and looked hopefully at Giles. They had somehow slipped back into their old roles, with Giles as the father figure that they looked to for reassurance and validation. Even Angel and Spike, both unusually unsure of themselves in these unprecedented circumstances, were ready to go along with whatever he said.

Giles sighed, stood up and said, 'Then let's stop procrastinating and do this. Willow, you go with Spike and tell him how to do the ritual. The rest of us will wait for a while to give you time to do that and then we'll go and sit outside Buffy's room until.., well, until it's over.'

Willow and Spike, not speaking, made their way back up to the room. Andrew took one look at their faces and quietly went outside. It was not midnight and Willow didn't bother with the candles or the plants or any of the other things she normally thought were important to create the right atmosphere for magic to succeed. Either the ritual would work or it wouldn't. If it didn't ... but she would not allow herself to think about that right now. She pulled the paper with the words on it from her pocket and handed it to Spike, telling him what he had to do.

He read through the few phrases, sighing in irritation. 'Just once, wouldn't it be nice if spells used a modern language that people actually still speak? OK, let's do this.'

A sombre group slowly wended their way up to the ICU floor. Buffy's room was round a corner, out of sight of the nurses' station. They could hear nothing from the room so they arranged themselves according to their nature.

Angel leant up against the wall, looking out of the window, his face a careful blank. He might be a mass of conflicting emotions inside, but he was determined to preserve a facade of icy calm. His dignity was one of the few things he still had left.

Andrew sat slightly apart from the group, secretly fiddling with the little Boba Fett figure hidden in his pocket. He carried it with him everywhere, as a kind of talisman. He had done that ever since, just after they had left Sunnydale, Dawn and Willow had given it to him for his birthday. They told him it was to replace the one that had been destroyed, along with everything else, when Sunnydale had collapsed into the Hellmouth. Along with the Star Wars action toy, they had given him a tiny replica of Shaggy.

He had been a little puzzled by that, until Willow said, with a sweet smile, 'He's from Scooby Doo, isn't he? So he's part of the Scooby gang.' He had sat stunned at the implication in her words. For once, he had not been able to say a word. To be accepted, finally. Well, mere words were inadequate, for once. So he had smiled tremulously at them both, and had run from the room, muttering something about hotpockets. From then on he had been determined to stand by these people, no matter what and no matter how scattered the group became. He was part of something awesome, and that was all he had ever wanted.

Xander was sitting on a chair, looking at the floor with his arms tightly folded, wrestling with the deep, dark, ugly part of himself that really hated the idea that, in the next few minutes, they could have mystical proof that Buffy and Spike belonged together. If that happened, then that would mean Buffy was awake, and that was worth anything. Even the definite knowledge that Spike had finally won. Wasn't it worth it? He gritted his teeth and told himself just to think about Buffy getting better. He could not allow that treacherous, tiny voice that whispered in his brain Don't work, don't work to bring bad luck to Buffy. What kind of friend was he?

Dawn, her eyes shut, a small line between her eyebrows the only visible sign of emotion, sat next to Xander, leaning against his shoulder. The warmth of his body and his solid presence were a comfort; she wasn't quite sure why.

Giles sat next to Dawn, endlessly polishing his glasses, constantly glancing at Buffy's door.

Then they all turned their heads in the same direction when they heard firm footsteps coming down the corridor.

'Besorgu cwén; áwace! Besorgu heortlufe; onwæc..' Spike stumbled over the words and stopped. He felt, quite frankly, like a fool. How could this possibly work? 'This really is ridiculous. This can't be the answer, Red!'

Standing at the side of the room, Willow sighed deeply. Then she walked over to stand next to Spike, who was looking down at Buffy. The only sign that the Slayer was alive was the very slight rise and fall of the white sheet. 'Do you love her? Really? Or was it all just talk?'

'How can you ask me that? You know what I've been through, what I've sacrificed for Buffy! Everything, and I mean everything, I've done in the last few years has all been about her!'

She took his hand, and placed it on one of Buffy's that was lying on top of the sheet. 'There's one more thing you've got to do for her. Even if you doubt yourself, you have to try. If I didn't really believe she loves you, then I wouldn't risk it. But I do believe it and so does Dawn, and Giles, too. They all do, really or they'd have tried to stop us. So now you ...'

Suddenly the door was flung open. They turned around and standing there, looking impossibly handsome and glowering at them magnificently, was the last person Willow wanted to see at that moment.

The Immortal. 'What are you doing with cara mia? What is this you do? Why did you not tell me to come? I should be here with my Buffy.'

He came marching into the room like something out of a toothpaste advert; all dark shiny hair and white teeth, dressed in clothes that screamed money. He was clearly not human, because he was too perfect, as if it were a scene from a soap opera where there was a special filter on the camera. Willow instinctively touched her hair in a girly fashion and licked her lips. She tried not to, but could not stop herself. She winced a little.

She had only met the Immortal a few times but she had soon realised that, though he certainly was not, in any way, her type, to say the least, he had this effect on everyone. Even Spike stood up a little straighter. This was what happened when you were a god and had supernatural charisma. Behind him stood Giles looking resigned and a little irritated. Mr Perfect came striding up to the bed, his locks flowing behind him as if there were a wind machine carefully directed at him. Spike bristled as the Immortal brushed him and Willow aside.

'I want to know what is going on!'

'Um, Mr ...' (What the heck did you call a god? What did Buffy call him? Did they just use romantic Italian endearments? Ugh! Yukky thought, and so not Buffy! So far she had avoided calling him anything, to his face anyway.)

'We... I...Um.' She sighed inwardly and shook herself mentally. Why did he make everyone act like adolescent fangirls around him?

'As I have already said, can we please discuss this outside? Buffy should not be disturbed.' Giles' calm voice rang out. Willow threw him a look of gratitude and then took the Immortal's arm and started walking towards the door. She glanced back at Spike who was looking at them with narrowed eyes. God, she thought, all this testosterone in this group, all wanting to be Top Dog. Thank the lord she was done with all that. Though Kennedy did rather think of herself as the Alpha Female in their relationship sometimes.

Willow gave a half smile, half grimace and hoped Spike got it. His presence would not be helpful. He hesitated for a moment as if he wanted to follow them, then he nodded and turned back to Buffy.

Outside, everyone was standing, looking at the Immortal, awe and irritation on their faces in differing amounts. Giles looked around at them all with the same strained smile on his face Willow had given Spike. He was silently begging them not to get involved, to let him deal with this latest hitch in their plan. Dawn, who had become immune to the Immortal's charm, glared at him but managed not to say anything. Andrew had a star-struck expression on his face, Xander a look of 'Great, another guy in the mix who is way cooler than me.' But they all sat down again, in response to the look on Giles' face.

Angel, however, was not so easily controlled. He knew about the Immortal and Buffy, but to see the man actually in front of him was hard to stomach. Also, though he would never have admitted it, his vanity was offended by the fact that he was no longer the hottest guy in the group. He was used to being the tall, dark and handsome one, the cool one and now he had serious competition. His annoyance at being so petty added to his irritation with Mr Perfect.

'What are you doing here? You know, we're very grateful for the information you found out, but your job here is done. Thanks and ciao and all that.' The vampire spoke through clenched teeth.

'What is this you are saying? Is it not true that the curse can only be broken by Buffy's true love? This is why I am here? How can you be doing this thing without me?' He clearly had his sources, too, because Giles had done his best to keep the information about the translation from the Immortal.

Xander, Angel and Dawn stood up again, all looking like they were ready for a fight. Giles quickly raised a hand, as if to ward off any trouble. 'I think we need to have a talk. Willow, would you join us?' And, gesturing with his hand back down towards the way downstairs, Giles ushered the Immortal away, Willow following behind, until the god, manners as impeccable as ever, politely waited for her to go ahead.

The three of them had barely disappeared round the bend in the corridor when the others all started talking at once. 'Who the hell does he think he ...' 'God, he is such a smarm-fest.' 'He seemed very charming to me.' 'Where does he get off...' The excited babble of voices brought Spike out of the room.

'What have you done with the God of Hairspray? I mean, Angel and I get enough flak for taking trouble over our hair, but he really is the biggest ponce in the universe. What does she see in that Nancy boy?' Sarcastic, irritated, insulting; Spike's default way of dealing with anything he couldn't handle. And better to rail at the Immortal than think of that small figure, still sleeping the sleep of the dead next door.

'Jeez, Spike, you got that right! What the hell does she see in such a plastic, over-groomed s.o.b. anyway?' It had been a long time since the two vampires had agreed on anything, but they were united in their jealousy and disdain for Buffy's beau.

'You have no idea! You should see him when he comes to pick her up! He must take hours to get ready! He's so...'

'Yeah, look at him, all chest hair and fake tan. Bet he can't pass a mirror without looking at it!'

Only Andrew did not join in. He had never felt really jealous of a man being romantically interested in Buffy, and he just wished he could look like that, effortlessly cool and handsome, always confident and smooth. He let the griping of the others wash over him and he settled back to enjoy a fantasy of himself, with beautifully tailored blazer covering a crisp white shirt, hair artlessly perfect, teeth gleaming, eyes piercingly blue, as he swept into a room where all eyes would instantly be upon him and everyone would rush over, desperate to be noticed by him. 'My name is Bond, Andrew Bond.' God, wouldn't the Immortal be perfect as 007?

And, in the next room, still Buffy waited, neither in this world or the next, as her friends tried to forget their terror and find some kind of relief in making fun of the Immortal.

Downstairs, Willow was trying to explain the reality of the situation to the aforesaid god. Giles had got nowhere, the Immortal seemingly unable to believe that Buffy did not consider him to be her soulmate. They had argued in circles for a long time. So Giles had left the floor open to Willow.

'I'm so sorry. I mean, you're amazing. Buffy really likes you and she thinks you are so hot and so much fun and so kind and such a perfect gentlemen...' She had to take a breath.

'But, you must know that you and Buffy are not...' She hesitated and then reached out and covered his perfectly manicured hand, which was resting on the table, with one of hers. He seemed surprised, but not offended, at her daring. Looking down at their hands, she continued.

'She and Spike have been through so much together. They've seen each other die to save the world. They've tried to kill each other and save each other more times than I can count. They've seen the best and the worst of each other. Spike got his soul back for her. Buffy stood by him when everyone else she cares about wanted him gone. What have you and Buffy had together to compare to that? Forgive me for saying this, but he is her Immortal, not you.'

She paused again and then looked him straight in the eye. 'Do you really, really believe she is in love with you?'

'I...' For once, his indestructible self-confidence seemed to waver. 'But of course we...'

And in the presence of the unmistakable sincerity and honesty shining from the sweet, anxious face in front of him, the Immortal closed his eyes and appeared to be thinking for a few seconds. Then he dropped his languidly cool demeanour, sat up straight and said, his normal honeyed tones and flowery words replaced by a curt, down-to-earth 'No.'

Willow, nearly dropping from exhaustion, walked slowly back to Buffy's room.

Outside, everyone, except Spike, was sitting back on the uncomfortable chairs, saying nothing. Their vitriol session had ended quickly, because they had not really had the heart for it. Not when compared to what was going on next door.

'So where is his Divineness? Gone to fix his hair? Or splash on a bit more aftershave?' Xander jumped on his feet, as if he could not sit still another moment.

Willow spoke in an exasperated tone unusual for her. 'Shut up, Xander. He's actually behaved pretty decently. And without him we'd never have found out what's wrong with Buffy.'

'Where is he, Will? Is he coming back?' This time it was Dawn who asked, sitting with her legs drawn up to her chin.

'I don't think so. Giles is talking to him about doing more research into Myrsina. He's offered to keep looking. You've got to give him credit for that.'

Angel, still at his endless vigil at the window, seeming to be searching for answers from the night sky, spoke. 'Why on earth should...'

Willow interrupted him. 'We don't have time for this. I'm going to go in and make sure that Spike tries the ritual. Giles wants everyone else to go downstairs and talk about how we're going to find Myrsina.'

'Shouldn't we stay up here, in case...?' Dawn's voice was very quiet.

'As soon as there's news, I'll come and get you.'

'Look, Willow. I'm getting a little tired of hanging around feeling completely useless. I am action guy, not sitting with the Scoobies awaiting orders guy. No offence, but you're not the boss of me. I need to be out there, doing something to help Buffy, not babysitting this lot! I failed to wake her up, so why the hell am I still here?' Angel's voice got louder towards the end of his speech, his frustration making him want to lash out.

Willow went to him at the window, forcing him to turn and look at her. 'If... When Buffy wakes up, you should be here. And we have to find the demon who did this. You can help with that.'

'Really, I thought she had her champion in there with her now. What do you need me for?'

'Buffy's always needed you, whatever was going on with other people in her life. You know that. You two share a connection, no matter what. You were her first love, and even if you're not her last love, no one can take that away from you. Anyway, she still needs all the friends she can get. Don't run out on her now.'

Angel stared down at the witch, whose red hair was glowing in the light from the street lamps outside. Surprisingly, he smiled at her. A tight smile that did not quite reach his eyes, but a smile nevertheless. 'Sorry. You're quite right. Buffy always said that you usually know the right thing to say, and she wasn't wrong there.' He briefly laid a hand on her shoulder and then he went down the corridor saying, 'Come on, let's go rescue Giles from the Impossible, sorry, the Immortal.'

And the others followed him, leaving Willow to go back into that room, the one they had all been trying to forget about for a while. She could not help but think that this was it, their last stand. She closed the door behind her. It was time.