Buffy stared up at Spike solemnly, waiting for him to explain, and still terribly frightened. What if despite his words and their earlier actions, he really didn’t love her?
What if he had been reacting honestly when he pushed her away? What if she’d somehow forced him?
Her thoughts slid to a stop in horror.
Oh my God! What if it was like the bathroom… except this time I was the one trying to make him… oh, please God, no.
Spike saw the tears, and the sudden horror on her face and he instinctively flinched back.
Christ she knows... she’s seen it… Please God… don’t let her hate me.
Panicked, he shot backwards attempting to get away from her yet again.
Buffy burst into tears and slumped onto the bed in a heap, her heart breaking as she watched the man she loved scramble for Willow’s discarded blanket.
As Spike turned his back to her Buffy searched the room franticly for what was left of her clothes, her only thought was to get dressed and get out of there before she did anything else to hurt him.
Seeing her obviously destroyed jeans, she cast her eyes around the room. Spying Willow’s bag by the end of the bed she grabbed for it, knowing that Willow however rushed, would have packed at least a couple of changes of clothes.
Her sudden movement had Spike whirling to face her and Buffy’s heart sank even more at his startled and horrified look. It only confirmed what she was sure was further evidence of her terrible crime. Unable to look at him a moment longer she grabbed the first suitable thing she could find and hurriedly dressed. She was halfway to the door when they both heard the screams.
“Get the fuck away from her you bitch!”
“Kennedy Noooo”
Buffy ran, dimly aware that Spike was close behind her.
Spike had been shocked when Buffy, instead of reaching for a stake, burst into tears.
He’d turned his back intending to make it somehow easier for both her and himself, but at her sudden movement a hundred and twenty years of instinct had him moving to face her. Steadying himself to meet her eyes, and her blow, he was shocked yet again when instead of attacking him, Buffy reached for a bag and proceeded to pull on a rather colorful skirt.
It was only when she headed for the door that his brain started to wonder what the hell the Slayer was up to. Then, before he could even form the words to ask, he heard a voice shout and Willow’s answering wail.
Without thinking, he reacted bolting from the room. Within a few paces he had overtaken Buffy and was halfway down the stairs.
At Kennedy’s first shriek, Willow’s head snapped up. Seeing the furious slayer barreling straight for them, the promise of death in her eyes, Willow, despite seven years on the Hellmouth and her witchyness, froze. It was not until Kennedy had reached them and was grabbing for Tara that Willow even found her voice. “Kennedy Noooo…”
Seconds later a white blur crashed into the enraged slayer, taking her to the floor of the lobby. Willow shrieked, Tara gasped, and Kennedy screamed in frustrated rage as Buffy slid to a stop meters from where a naked snarling Spike was attempting to keep the younger slayer pinned.
As Spike hit the lobby, he’d registered two things. The first, that somehow impossibly Tara was alive, and the second was that Willow’s current girlfriend, if the look on her face was anything to go by, was about to change that fact.
His protective instincts were fully aroused, as memories of Tara’s kindness and Willow’s grief surged to the forefront of his mind. Game face on he lunged for the younger slayer, determined that no one was going to hurt what his demon considered family.
Pinning her to the ground he snarled at her in warning, fangs poised to strike, only the knowledge that it wasn’t his place stopping him from ripping her throat out.
Kennedy struggled futilely, her anger changing to terror as she realized that Slayer or not the vampire holding her down was far stronger. Her eyes flew to Willow as Spike leaned down, fangs inches from her throat.
“Willow, help me he’s gonna kill me!” she shrieked, hysteria and fright making her forget for a moment that she was the one who’d been doing the attacking only moments ago.
Willow started forward instinctively before suddenly realizing that she still had Tara’s hand in hers. Looking down at their joined hands, she felt a sudden calmness descend.
“Actually Ken, I’m gonna have to go with ‘No’ on that one.”
Turing her head she acknowledged Buffy’s presence for the first time.
“Hey Buff, nice skirt”, she grinned, turning back to the vampire and the shocked slayer.
“So Spike, nice save… good to see you up and around by the way. Though I gotta say” she finished with a laugh “I’m seeing a lot more of you than I really needed to”.
Spike frowned before glancing down; game face melting away as he suddenly became aware of his undressed state.
At the horrified look on the vampires face Tara started to giggle and Willow and Buffy soon joined in.
“Bloody hell Red, wasn’t exactly worried about your poor virgin eyes, what with you lot making such a racket… if you like I can leave you to it?”
The last was said with a cocked eyebrow and a sardonic smirk, that Willow until then hadn’t realized she’d missed.
“What the fucks wrong with you Willow” snarled Kennedy, anger at there banter overtaking her previous shock and fright. “You should be killing this thing, you cheating bitch, not talking to it.”
Spike growled, blue eyes flickering gold and even Buffy found herself hard pressed not to go over and smack the younger slayer.
“That’s enough” hissed Willow, “Congelo”, she muttered gesturing towards the figures on the floor. Kennedy’s body froze at her words and Spike was once again strangely conscious of the fact that he was naked.
“Preciate that Red but do you ladies think you could find me something to wear, don’t fancy flashin’ anything more than I already have so if you could just…”
He made scooting motions with one hand while trying to look as casual as one could naked and on top of a slayer, that wasn’t his.
It was that last thought that brought back his earlier worries.
God… he’d nearly forgotten… what with all the fuss. The Slayer…Buffy, she’d never be his. Not now his soul was gone.
Lost in his own introspection he didn’t notice Tara leaving the room only to return moments later with a dark pair of sweats and a grey t-shirt.
“H-here Spike, Xander left these for you… they should fit.”
Tara blushed. Startled, Spike looked up at her, unknowingly flashing her far more than he would have liked.
“Right… thanks Glinda” he offered somewhat distractedly.
Motioning for them to turn around her levered himself of the still frozen body of Kennedy and hurriedly donned the clothes.
Clearing his throat, he looked up just in time to register the return of Illyria and the arrival of Giles, Dawn, Xander, Faith and what his senses were telling him appeared to be three very young slayers.
Bollocks was his only thought, as the young untried slayers, seeing what to them looked like a master vamp standing over the body of another slayer, instantly went into battle mode. Three stakes were produced before he could blink, their owners all rushing him at once.
Buffy reacted instinctively, rushing forward at full Slayer speed. Her only thought was to save Spike.
She was too late… someone else got there before her.
Illyria had moved so fast that to the others it was as though she’d teleported. One minute the three slayers were nearly upon him and the next Illyria appeared between them.
The first was backhanded and sent flying into the wall.
The second found herself hit in the chest so hard that she skidded across the floor of the Hyperion a good ten meters before coming to rest against the couch.
The third wasn’t as lucky, Illyria gripping her around the throat and holding her up. Feet kicking helplessly the Irish Slayer cursed in a brogue that would have done Angelus proud.
Ignoring her swearing captive Illyria met Buffy’s shocked gaze, the blue Gods features expressionless.
“You would dare this treachery against me! Blood of this shell has been shed so this half breed might be saved. I Illyria bow to no one, and yet I acquiesced to your request for help. Now you dare to attempt to destroy this one I have named pet.”
Fingers tightened around the redhead slayer’s throat, Illyria shaking her even as she advanced on the older slayer.
Buffy’s eyes darted between Illyria and the girl she now recognized as Meg.
One wrong move and she knew the world would be down one less chosen one.
A small mean part of her brain that sounded suspiciously like Faith suggested that the loss of Meg (nearly as big a pain in the ass as Kennedy) wouldn’t really be that big of a deal.
Ignoring the tempting advice of her brain, Buffy studied the ex God weighing up her options of attack, knowing that she might have only seconds to save the others life.
The tension in the old hotel was so thick you could have used a sword to cut it, never mind a knife.
Faith had also not been idle, though as a more seasoned slayer she had not rushed forward like the newbies.
Instead, she carefully and slowly circled around the little tableau intending to come at Illyria from behind.
She registered the return of Angel and his move towards the group. Noting with satisfaction that he to seemed to be maneuvering himself into a better position of attack.
It didn’t even occur to her to wonder whose side he was on.
Poetically, it was Spike, the catalyst of the tension that was the one to put an end to it.
“Oi Smurfette! What the bleedin’ hell do ya think your doin? Be a good little God King,” he coaxed “an put the nice baby slayer down”.
Coming up beside her slowly so as not to startle her, he continued to talk with amused nonchalance.
“C’mon Pet you don' know where she’s been… though with her being a bloody mick I could hazard a guess” he quipped wryly.
Illyria turned her gaze from Buffy’s to Spike’s, her expression quizzical.
“You would spare this humans life? Knowing she would kill you without thought? Are you so corrupted with humanity, that even now without a soul you still fail to see how beneath you they are. They are less to you than the filth upon your boot and yet you would plead for this one’s life.”
Spike tensed, his jaw tightening as he heard several gasps from around the room: his eyes never leaving the blue gods face, he desperately tried to avoid looking at Buffy to see her reaction to Illyria’s words.
Reigning in his despair, he shut his emotions down, determined to concentrate on the situation and not the rage he could feel building deep down inside him.
Opening his mouth to reply to Illyria’s question, he was stunned when Dawn stepped forward, fists clenched at her sides.
“You don’t know Spike at all if you have to ask that question”, she blurted
“Spike didn’t have a soul for ages, and he loved me. He fell in love with his mortal enemy without one, and he took care of me when Buffy was gone without one. He protected all of us for years without the stupid soul… even Xander. So why would he change now.”
Glare diverted from Illyria to himself, cheeks flushed with what Spike recognized as rage, she turned her attention to him.
He’d been too busy with the slayers to register the appearance of the younger Summer’s sister, now with her gaze on him, and the fierce and knowing look in her eye, Spike found himself chocking up with emotion.
Which was why, when she asked him the one thing he really did not want to be talking about any time soon, he answered with complete honesty.
“You still love Buffy don’t Ya?” she shot.
“Always Bit”
“And you love me too, even though I was being a dumbass last time we spoke?”
“Course, goes without sayin’, pidge” he choked out, fierce pride at Dawn’s protectiveness overwhelming him.
“And you would never hurt anyone here in this room without cause, would you?” At his thoughtful look she glared.
“Spike…” she threatened. “don’t make me have to hit you”
Spike ducked his head with a shamefaced grin. Strangely shy, he looked up to meet Dawn’s amused gaze.
“Don’t reckon I would nibblet… been off human blood for a while, don’t see no reason to change”
“Well then that’s that” Dawn stated, turning her attention back to the blue demon.
“Spike loves us, and we love him, so the whole protecty thing… sooo not your job. Right Buffy?” she asked, turning to her sister.
Both Dawn and Spike looked at Buffy, one expectantly the other with barely hidden fear.
Buffy for her part was still reeling from the vampire’s earlier words.
He loved her…Spike still loved her.
About to answer, Illyria interrupted, choosing that moment to take Spike’s advice by letting the younger slayer go.
Instead of running like a sensible person, she turned and lunged.
Whether it was Illyria or Spike that was her target, no one would ever know.
Buffy reacted without thought.
“GET AWAY FROM MY VAMPIRE YOU FUCKING IRISH COW!”
Meg for the second time that night found herself hoisted in the air, this time by a very pissed off Buffy.
She had a brief second to think ‘OH Shit’ before she found herself flying through the air and out the still closed doors of the Hyperion.
“Buffy NO” yelled Angel, wincing as the splintered remains of his doors swung back together.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, advancing on the furious slayer.
Before he could lay a hand on her, Spike was there, blocking his way.
“Back off Peaches, the Slayer don’t need you telling her what to do.”
“Keep out of this Spike, it isn’t your business” growled Angel.
Ignoring the other vampires answering growl he turned his attention back to Buffy.
“Well Buffy? I’m waiting…”
Buffy stared at Angel disbelievingly.
Where had he been for the last few minutes, and just where the hell did he get off yelling at her? Couldn’t he see that Meg was going to attack Spike… that she had tried to kill him only minutes before? What the hell was his deal?
Spike watched his slayers face, waiting for her to fold… to do the little girl thing. But instead of the expected love and contriteness, he saw a look he was very familiar with… disgusted anger. He gaped as Buffy advanced on the glowering Angel.
“Oh no you don’t, Angel. You don’t get to tell me what to do, and you really don’t get to judge me. You very nearly got Spike killed for the second time, and then you have the nerve to yell at me for protecting him? I’m not even gonna start on the whole Wolfram and Hart thing, or the fact that you yet again decided you know what’s best for me.” Her mouth turned down, anger warring with some other stronger emotion that Spike failed to recognize.
“How could you Angel? How could you not tell me he was back?”
“Spike? What the Hell has Spike got to do with this?” he shot back. “This is about you attacking a girl not much older than your sister… another Slayer”.
He glared, eyes flickering gold as he stared down at her, his expression one of disgust and disappointment.
“For Gods sake Buffy,” he snarled, “did screwing the Immortal damage your morals as well as your common sense?”
Spike smirked as Buffy’s face tightened with familiar fury.
OH yeah, he knew that look all right. Granddaddy was about to get his arse handed to him.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hey everyone, I'm baaaack.
Sorry for the long delay the stitches took longer to heal than I thought they would.
Hope you are all still with me?
Ta as usual to my fab beta Jill for sticking with me on this very long journey, and for nominating me at the Spuffy awards.
Don't forget to vote... even if it isn't for me. LOL