CHAPTER 11 - Battling
"Oh crap," Buffy muttered as her gaze took in the five hulking Monu demons that were spread out around them effectively cutting off any hope of escape. And of getting back to the crypt any time soon. That fact alone ticked her off more than anything else.
"Sorry, luv," Spike suddenly murmured from beside her.
She looked up at him, her eyebrow arched questioningly. "For what?"
"For getting you involved with this twit," he replied in a low voice, slightly inclining his head towards the Monu who had taken a swing at them. "Reckon he’s here for some payback for the other night and looks like he’s brought some friends."
Before Buffy could comment, the aforementioned demon, spoke. "I see the Slayer’s taking you out for a walk herself tonight, Spike. Does she clean up after you as well?"
The vampire let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. "Oh, change the bloody record, you prat," he ground out dismissively. "Either just do this or sod off. Got places to be."
The Monu snorted angrily. "You got lucky last time but it won’t happen again. This time I’ll personally make sure I rip you in half." He shot the silent Slayer a nasty glance before looking back at Spike. "After you’ve watched us slice and dice your precious Slayer, that is."
"You know, Spike, you were wrong," Buffy began conversationally. At the vampires' questioning gaze, she continued, "These guys are even more stupider than they look."
"Luv, it’s probably not wise to agg…" Spike began, only to be cut off by the enraged Monu.
"I was going to make this quick for you, Slayer, but now I’ll make sure you feel every inch as I slowly carve my name in your gut," the demon hissed as he gestured for the rest of his gang forward.
"You can spell? I’m impressed," Buffy retorted, bringing forth the stake she still held in her hand.
With a roar, the Monu launched himself at the blonde only to be stopped halfway by the body of the Shilpa demon Spike had been carrying, slamming into him. He fell to the ground and ripped viciously through the body, tearing it asunder before standing once more. Turning to face the two blondes, he saw them already engaged in battle with the rest of his gang who had paired off and were taking them on two against one. Looking from one to the other, he took a determined step forward having decided which one he wanted to kill first.
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Willow yawned widely then gave her girlfriend a tired smile. "I think I’m all researched out for tonight."
"Me too," agreed Tara, stifling her own yawn.
"Yes, let’s call it a night, shall we?" Giles suggested as he removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. "We can reconvene at the Magic Box tomorrow morning if you’re available? We may find what we’re looking for in one of the books there."
Willow nodded then closed the tome in front of her and raised her arms in a stretch. "Good idea. About nine-ish?"
"Fine," the Watcher replied, putting his glasses back on and standing.
Willow and Tara grabbed their coats and put them on then went to the door. Giles followed and opened it for them, standing aside so they could exit. "I’ll…uh…I’ll leave it to you to contact Buffy, shall I? he asked as they stepped over the threshold, his relief almost palpable when the redhead immediately nodded her head. The last thing he needed was to phone his charge first thing in the morning only to have Spike answer. Some things were better left ignored.
"Yeah, I’ll call her before we go to the store," Willow replied, turning to look at him.
He nodded and gave her a tired, but grateful, smile. "Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."
"Night, Giles," the girls answered then headed off home.
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Spike stepped to the side, dodging a lunging Monu and delivered an upper cut that stunned it sufficiently for the vampire to gain a choking headlock. The second demon he was fighting got up off the ground, from where Spike had laid him out moments before, and took a run at him but the blond used the captured demon’s head as a battering ram and the demon found himself flat on his back once more. Just as Spike snapped his Monu’s neck, he heard Buffy yell a warning but it was too late. The leader smacked into him from behind causing Spike to tumbled over.
Already having despatched one of her foes, Buffy quickly drove her stake into the neck of the second and hurried over to help her love. The leader was standing over the fallen vampire and had just raised his arm to deliver a fatal blow when she kicked his legs out from under him.
Spike rose gracefully to his feet and spun around to face the other remaining Monu while Buffy continued to fight the leader. Punches and kicks were traded while talons were dodged until Spike finally managed to turn his adversary’s hand in on himself thus impaling the Monu on his own talons. As he sank to the ground with a gurgled cry, the sudden pained yelp of the Slayer had the vampire spin around in panic.
"Buffy!" he exclaimed urgently, his stomach twisting as his senses were assailed by the sight and scent of her blood as she lay prone on the ground a couple of yards away. "No!"
Before the leader even had time to glance over at the vampire, he was tackled to the ground and sharp teeth were viciously tearing into his neck. Spike eventually pulled back and stared down at the dying Monu, his bloodied mouth twisting into a sadistic smile. "Don’t worry. Not gonna finish you off." He tilted his head slightly to one side, his smile widening to reveal his elongated incisors to their maximum effect. "Just gonna let you lie there so can feel your pathetic excuse of an existence drip away." He pushed a finger into one of the jagged puncture wounds in the Monu’s neck and moved it around, opening the hole up even further causing the demon to cry out in pain. Removing his bloodied finger, Spike held it up in front of the Monu’s face and pointed it downwards so that the viscous fluid started to fall off the end. "Drip, drip, drip," he said each time a drop of blood landed onto the leader’s face.
The Monu’s breathing grew harsher as Spike then used his chest to push himself up to stand and, with one last hateful glare, hurried over to Buffy. "Where are you hurt?" he asked in concern, his demon automatically receding as he dropped to his knees and helped the injured Slayer as she struggled to sit up.
"My arm," she replied, wincing as she used her left hand to lift her right arm up to his gaze. "Just a scratch. No biggie."
Spike’s eyes widened in alarm as he took in the deep ragged gashes that adorned the inside of her arm just below her elbow. The flow of blood was already beginning to slow and he couldn’t stop the surge of longing that raced through his body at the heady delights in front of him. Fighting his internal demon, his eyes tracked the wound down towards her hand and any thoughts of her taste fled when a bolt of absolute terror sliced through him. The Monu had come close to hitting the artery at her wrist. Too close. Another few millimetres and…He broke off the thought and swallowed hard. This was all his fault.
Damping down the fresh wave of guilt that accompanied the latest addition to his ever growing list of failures, he commented dryly, "Just a scratch, eh? What would your arm hanging off by a piece of stretched skin be classed as then? A slight cut?"
"More of a nick, actually," she countered just a dryly as he helped her get to her feet. "It’d have to be totally sliced off and me hitting you over the head with it to get anywhere near being called a cut."
Despite his worry over her injury, Spike couldn’t help the quirk of his lips at her wry demeanour. Gotta love that Slayer spirit. Gotta love her, period.
"Come on, Slayer, let’s get you back to my place where I can get you sorted," he offered, taking a step towards the exit.
"Chance would be a fine thing," she muttered to herself as she started after him, ignoring the weak groaning that was coming from the rapidly expiring Monu and the keen stinging sensation that encompassed her right arm.
"What was that?" the vampire asked abruptly, turning his head to look at her with narrowed, faintly quizzical eyes.
Apart from a slight widening of her eyes, Buffy covered well. Remember the super enhanced hearing you idiot, she mentally admonished herself before answering the other blond. "Um…I said I wanted to go find my earring."
The vampire looked heavenward and rolled his eyes. "I’ll come back later, alright?" he told her sharply. "Now, let’s get moving, shall we?"
Knowing not to push it further, she resigned herself to the fact that phase two had been a resounding flop thanks to the Hellmouth’s many ironic little surprises. So, with Willow’s plan thoroughly out of the window she only had one option left. Time for Buffy to start thinking on her feet.
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Fen followed the battered couple out of the cemetery and watched them head off down the sidewalk. At least, now he knew who was causing the blond so much emotional pain. It would prove a valuable asset when he finally got him alone.
He sighed and, after one last look at the couple, turned away. Who would have thought that a vampire would be so completely in love with the Slayer? Oh, the sweet irony of it all. More than ever, this reaffirmed his job in life.
And if there was one thing he took seriously, it was his work.
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Spike pushed open the door to his crypt and ushered the Slayer inside, guiding her over to his chair. Seeing her settled, he hastened over to the hole in the floor that led to the lower level and jumped down. Within seconds, he was back by her side carrying various bandages, some gauze and a bottle of antiseptic.
"This’ll probably sting a bit," he advised as he knelt by her feet and tipped some of the fluid onto the gauze. Taking her hand in his, he turned it palm side upwards then rested her arm on the arm of the chair and began to gently dab around the tears in her flesh.
Even though he was being careful, the first touch of the antiseptic seeping into her wounds caused Buffy to tense and draw a sharp breath. Spike glanced up and gave her an apologetic smile before bending his head back to his task. Diligently, he cleaned up every bit of the congealed blood that surrounded the gashes, all the while steeling himself against the feelings of remorse that flooded through him every time he heard her gasp or felt her flinch in pain.
Putting down the sullied gauze, he cast an experienced eye over the wound and looked up at her regretfully. "Could need stitches," he informed her quietly.
The Slayer’s reaction was instantaneous. "No! It’ll be fine. Just bandage me up," she replied with a shake of her head, the thought of going to a hospital lighting a spark of fear in her eyes. "Please," she whispered when it seemed as though he might argue the point. He held her gaze for a moment longer then gave a brief nod of assent. Picking up the not-so-white dressing he’d pilfered from somewhere, he then began wrapping it firmly around her arm.
She watched his nimble fingers as they smoothed over the binding, checking that it wasn’t too tight and was reminded of the feel of his hands as they glided over her thighs earlier that evening. The rush of wetness between her legs was immediate as was the way her body temperature rapidly rose, suffusing her in a warm glow. Eyes still on the vampire, she noticed him pause for a second in his ministrations, almost as though he knew, then carry on his movements until he ripped the end of the dressing a couple of inches down the middle before tying the ends off into a neat little bow.
"How’s that feel?" he asked, keeping his gaze averted even though his hand still held hers lightly.
"Good," she replied, willing him to look up at her. The husky tone of his voice told her that was aware of her arousal and she wanted nothing more to act upon it but she remembered, just in time, her vow to go slow with him…God dammit!
"Good," he repeated, still not looking at her but seemingly unable to let go of her hand either.
"Spike?" The soft sound of his name brought his gaze to her face and she smiled warmly. "Thank you," she said before leaning forward and pressing her lips lightly against his in an act that was reminiscent of the time after Glory’s torture.
Then, as now, when she pulled back, Spike simply stared at her with a mixture of confusion and amazement. She smiled at him again and gradually, his dazed expression cleared to be replaced by something more intense. Something that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Pure adoration blazed in the cerulean depths, drawing her in and igniting the answering spark that she had been keeping at bay for this one particular moment.
His gaze dropped to her lips and his grip on her hand tightened momentarily before loosening to begin slowly sliding up her arm. His other hand lifted and reached out to gently cup her face.
‘Yes! Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!’ she thought frantically, her breathing growing heavy as her tongue darted out, moistening her lips in anticipation.
Focussed solely on her mouth, her involuntary action caused Spike's own lips part slightly as he slowly moved forward. Just as their lips were about to touch, his hand ran over her wound causing her to draw in a sharp breath as she automatically grimaced at the sudden jolt of pain.
Spike froze, his eyes snapping up to meet hers as the guilt crashed over him once more. 'Your fault she's in pain,' his brain reminded him nastily. 'If you'd fought better, Buffy wouldn't be sitting here with her arm ripped to piece's. Failure. Useless. No right to touch. Not your world…'
"No!" he said curtly as he drew back from the Slayer and stood up, taking a couple of steps away in the vain hoping that distancing himself would somehow dispel the taunting going on in his head.
"Wha…?" Buffy said as she blinked dazedly, trying to comprehend the fact that he’d suddenly moved away. She looked up at him and saw that his features had perfectly sculpted into an impassive mask leaving her to wonder if she’d merely imagined his heated look not seconds before.
"Arm’s bandaged, Slayer," Spike was saying as the fog in her brain cleared. "Guess you should be going now."
"Going?" she repeated blankly.
"Harris and his bird’s party at the Bronze," he reminded her flatly, head down. "Be a shame to waste the outfit."
Buffy stood up slowly and took a step towards him, noting that he immediately took one back. She stopped and stared at him. "You really want me to go?" she asked softly.
"Doesn’t matter what I want," he replied quietly.
"Of course it does," she refuted taking another step forward only to have him move away again. Frowning, she quickly replayed the last couple of minutes back over in her mind and tried to figure out what had caused his sudden withdrawal. It came to her in a rush and her gaze softened at her realisation. "Spike, listen to me, this wasn't your fault," she told him, holding up her injured arm. "It was mine for not getting out of the way quick enough."
"Wasn't your fight," he stated adamantly. "Shouldn't have been involved in the first place. Should've just left me."
"Left you?" she repeated dubiously. "Alone? Against five Monu demons? Are you kidding me?"
The vampire bristled at her disbelieving tone and straightened up to look at her. "Could've took 'em," he retorted huffily.
"Yeah, right, and I would've been treading in bits of Spike for the next month," she countered sardonically, her temper starting to flare. Did he really think she thought so little of him that she’d actually leave him there?
"And no doubt it'd probably still be my fault for messing up your shoes," he muttered bitterly as he looked away in aggravation. Why the hell did he have to touch her bloody arm? He could be snogging her right this minute, maybe even more, but no; no, he had to go and have another attack of the guilts. Pathetic. Absolutely, pathetic.
Feeling her control start to slip, Buffy tried to cling onto it with both hands but failed miserably. She was sick and tired of playing the 'pretend I don't know' game and more than fed up with Spike's continuing remoteness. She'd had enough of abortive seduction attempts and as for reining her temper in? Not a hope in hell!
"Alright, that's it! I've had enough," she snapped, her tone furious. "I know all about your little guilt trip over Dawn and it’s so ridiculous!"
Spike stiffened and turned his narrowed gaze to hers as her admission penetrated his mental flagellation. "That right?" he drawled coolly.
"Yes!" she all but screamed in frustration.
"Why?" he demanded, a dangerous glint flaring in his eyes. "Cos a soulless demon like me can’t feel?" he accused in a clipped tone. His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Amazing how you always accepted my feelings of hate easily enough but when I flipped the coin over, all of a sudden I couldn’t have emotions! Love, hate, same coin, different sides, Slayer, no matter what you want to think."
"This isn’t about what I think…" she said heatedly.
"Wrong! It’s got everything to do with what you think…what you thought," he refuted coldly.
"God! You’re wallowing in so much self-pity, you can’t even begin to imagine what I’m thinking anymore, Spike," she told him angrily.
"Well, why don't you enlighten me then?" the vampire goaded mockingly, knowing he should stop but unable to keep his mouth shut. "Go on. Tell me how I failed to protect Dawn. Tell me how I failed to protect you."
"I don't need your protection…"
"No, you don't need anything from me, do you?" he interrupted harshly, his own temper coming to the fore as he lashed out, hurt by her quick dismissal of him. "Don't even know why you bother coming here anymore. Don't need you. Certainly don't need any of your bloody Scoobies poking their noses in my business. Got by just fine before and will do again." He turned away and strode over to the door of the crypt jerking it open before looking over at her expectantly.
Buffy stared back at him in dismay. She knew he didn't really mean what he'd said but that didn't make the words hurt any less. "You know, tonight sooo didn't go how I planned it and right at this moment, after what you've just said, I don't know what the hell I still see in you. You’re a stubborn-assed, totally blind, pig-headed, badly bleached, stupid old…old," her mind groped wildly for something cutting to say when one of Willow’s sayings flew into her head and straight out of her mouth. "Poophead!"
An eyebrow quirked at her name calling, but before the vampire could respond, the Slayer marched over to the door and stopped level with him. "Oh, and one more thing," she said brightly before hauling back and letting fly with her left arm, landing a hard punch square on his nose.
"OW! Bloody hell, woman!" he shouted as he cupped his hands over his nose, trying to stem the blood flow. Eyes watering from the pain, he barely made out the grim smile of satisfaction that graced Buffy's face before she turned on her heel and stalked out, closing the door behind her with a resounding slam.
Bollocks.
END CHAPTER 11
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