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Part Four



~~~



Day Sixteen



~~~



"Come on, kitten, this'll make you feel better." Spike tried to place the cold, damp rag over Buffy’s forehead.



"No...No, silly, Spike. You can't play with the kitten!" Buffy batted at Spike's hand.



The vampire sighed. Yesterday it had seemed that the fever was disappearing but after the thunderstorm last night the blonde slayer seemed to go into a relapse and was quite frankly delirious.



Suddenly, she began shaking uncontrollably and Spike dropped the cloth, quickly pulling the covers over her. She began to sob quietly and Spike wrapped his arms around the bundle of covers, cooing softly to her that everything was fine.



An hour later the maid returned, "Sir, you called?"



"Yes, about the party. I was thinking it might be wise to cancel it altogether. Buffy is still too unwell." Spike said properly, slipping easily into his accent of birth.



"Oh, sir, I'm sorry to hear that. I'll make the arrangements immediately."



~~~



Day Twenty-five



~~~



"Spike...?"



"Buffy?" Spike sighed in relief as two tired blue-green eyes focused on him. "How you feelin', pet?"



"Like someone ran a truck over me twice then left me in the Sahara for a week." She croaked.



"Here, drink this." Spike handed her a glass of juice, of which she took a tentative sip as she tested out her responses. When all was good she steadily drank until it was all gone.



"More?" Spike asked.



"Please." Buffy nodded. When she had finished her third glass she let him meekly take it from her fingers. "What happened?"



"You've been ill for the last two weeks. Doc said it was a cross between the flu and plain out exhaustion." Spike explained. "You should take it easy for a bit more, pet. Don't want a relapse."



"Two weeks?" Buffy murmured as Spike eased her back on to the pillows. "What about the party? Going into town?"



"Don't fret, love, we rebooked the thing for next week. Only we'll not be holding it. Nick will."



"Nick?"



"Never mind. We'll check ourselves out in five days. Just go back to sleep; you'll feel better in the morning."



"I like it when you go all nice...calming...peace...” Buffy muttered falling asleep.



~~~



Day Thirty



~~~



"Mabel, I'm really worried about this party. I know I sound a complete klutz but I have no idea whose going to be there, or what it's for!"



The maid looked down kindly at Buffy, "Not to worry, Eliza. The party is a welcome for yourselves. I'm afraid I don't know who will be there, though I suppose the neighbourhood."



"You mean, the party is for us. So, we won't know anyone there?"



"Exactly, madam. Except of course for Mr. Nicolas Berkshire. Mr. Dartmoore spoke to him while you were unwell. It is Mr. Berkshire that intends to hold the party."



"Thank you. I was worried I was forgetting more than usual!" The elderly maid smiled at the slayer indulgently and took her leave.



---



"Ready, ducks?" Spike asked from the doorway.



Buffy stood out-of-view behind the cupboard door, "Yeah, just a minute, I can't tie this bloody thing up!"



Spike chuckled.



"What!" Buffy cried agitatedly.



"You said, 'Bloody', love. We've been together too long."



"Yeah, well, its not just me. Yesterday you said the trees looked 'wiggy'. Oh, would you just help me or get lost; you’re distracting me."



"What do you need?"



"Tie me." Buffy stepped out from the cupboard and gasped, taking in the sharp dinner-suit. "Wow, you clean up well."



Spike cleared his throat and tried to keep his eyes from dipping down the low cut of her dress, which seemed to just glide over the slayer's skin like liquid silk. "You too."



A/N: Please do review! It completely makes my day and makes the writing come that much quicker!





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