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Chapter Three
Written by Starshine
 
Buffy buried her head in Spike’s chest, shaking uncontrollably. The dampness of the cold ground began to seep through the thin clothing she wore, filling her veins with shards of ice. In the space of a heartbeat, something had violently ripped her from the all-encompassing warmth and peace that she had known since falling to her death. Now she was back in a place filled with bright, glaring lights, harsh noises, and painful confusion.
 
The night swelled around her in a cacophony of jangling sounds and she flinched closer to her savior. It was all quickly becoming too much to take in once more, but before her fears could manifest themselves in another fit of tears; she became conscious of a rumbling vibration beneath her cheek. Spike was purring.
 
Sensing her rising panic, Spike held Buffy as tight as he could in an attempt to soothe his tormented mate. He shifted, lifting her off the cold ground and onto his lap, trying his best to protect her from the harsh elements she now found herself a part of again. He felt her take a deep, steadying breath, trying to follow his lead and welcoming the peace he offered her so freely. Within moments she was limp in his arms, her head resting against his chest.
 
Spike ran a shaky hand through her tangled hair as he rocked her back and forth.
 
“It’s not right,” he whispered.
 
Buffy reluctantly pulled away to look into his eyes. What she saw nearly made her weep. The myriad of emotions she found there entranced her; joy, sorrow, pain, anger, and love. Mostly love. A deep, abiding love.
 
“You shouldn’t be here.”
 
The words were strained, and she was conscious of the effort he was making to keep his own selfish wants repressed.  
 
“I dreamed of this; of having you here with me just one more time, but not like this. Not knowing what it cost you. Being apart from you was hell, but knowing what you were taken from, where you were…”
 
Buffy’s fingers pressed against his lips and cut off the rest of his words. Her somber green eyes followed the path of her fingers as she traced the shape of his mouth before she leaned into him and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips.
 
Spike allowed himself a brief moment to savor the touch of her lips on his, and then he pulled slowly away from her, searching her eyes for some explanation of what had just occurred.
 
Buffy looked down, her fingers worrying the buttons on his red shirt. A small shiver raced through her small frame.
 
He quickly set her aside and got to his feet, pulling her up with him. Shrugging off his coat, he wrapped it around her and hauled her back against him, almost afraid to let her get to far from him.
 
“You must be freezing, pet. Let’s get you home so we can suss out what the hell happened.”
 
Buffy pressed her hand against his chest in protest, her eyes wide with fear and apprehension.
 
“No, not there. Not yet,” she whimpered. “I can’t do this yet.”
 
Spike shushed her, rubbing his thumb lightly over the bite on her neck.
 
“Come on, then. I’ll take you back to my crypt. You can hide out there for awhile, get your bearings, so to speak,” he said.
 
Buffy smiled up at him. She turned to walk away and gasped in alarm as her legs started to give way. He was at her side in an instant, scooping her up in his arms.
 
“I can walk, Spike.”
 
Spike smirked. There was the slightest bit of the old Buffy in her tart comment.
 
“Didn’t think you couldn’t, pet.”
 

 
Buffy allowed herself to be carried across the cemetery. She could sense Spike’s need to have her close, so she made no further protests. An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion swept over her and she was grateful for the strength in the arms that held her. Safe in his embrace, she rested her head on his shoulder and breathed in the scent that was so uniquely Spike.
 
She sighed, feeling a deep sense of regret that she had denied herself the comfort of his touch in the weeks before her death. Her behavior towards him during that hateful time of her life made her cringe inwardly, and although he had accepted her apology the night she died, she had to wonder if she would ever be able to forgive herself. Throughout her life she had allowed the opinions of others to influence her thoughts and emotions, often to her own detriment. Not this time, she vowed. She wasn’t sure why she had been brought back, but she was determined that this time would be different, that she wouldn’t be the emotional cripple that she had been before.
 
Spike kicked open the crypt door, the loud bang it made causing her to stiffen and throw her arms around his neck in fear.
 
“’M sorry, luv,” he apologized as he deposited her on top of the stone sarcophagus.
 
Buffy looked around, noticing the homey touches he had added since she had been gone.
 
“You’ve been busy.”
 
Spike looked around and shrugged. “I figured I would be here for awhile. Thought I should do somethin’ about the digs. Plus, Nibblet hangs around here after school when she can shake the Wiccas, doin’ her homework and watchin’ that God-awful VH1. Tried to make it more comfortable for her.”
 
“How is she?” she asked, her heart in her hazel eyes.
 
He didn’t even attempt to lie to her. “Miserable. Misses you somethin’ fierce. She spends most of her time with Glenda, feels closer to her than the others, I guess. She went through a phase where she was skippin’ every other day of school and got caught. The watcher gave her a stern talkin’ to and she’s settled down some.”
 
Turning away from her tear-filled gaze, he busied himself with getting her some water and finding the first aid kit to doctor the bloody scrapes on her knuckles. When he felt she’d had enough time to regain some measure of control, he returned to her side.
 
He took her small hands in his and stared at the blood that streaked the backs of them, refusing to meet her eyes.
 
“I know I was a bit of a ponce back there. If I hurt you by not sayin’ this sooner, I’m sorry, but it’s damn good to see you again, Slayer.”

Buffy bit her bottom lip, taken aback that she actual felt like smiling after her ordeal. She wondered how upset he would get if she told him how sweet he was being.
 
“Thanks for getting me out and that…thing you did back there,” she said quietly, her fingers playing across the fresh bite marks on her neck.
 
Buffy tried to run a hand through her snarled hair, frowning as she realized what she must look like.
 
Spike had to hide a grin at the expression on her face.
 
“Feeling not so fresh?” he inquired.
 
Buffy arched an eyebrow at him. “I could use a shower.”
 
Spike thought for a moment. He made his way across the room and knelt before a small wooden chest. Flipping back the lid, he pulled out a duffle bag. He carried it back to her but then stopped, suddenly looking uncomfortable and extremely embarrassed.
 
“I uh…I have plumbing downstairs if you want to take a shower,” he mumbled, handing her the duffle bag with a resigned expression.
 
Buffy looked down at it. Her eyes widened as she slowly lifted her head to look at him.
 
“This…this is mine,” she said, opening the bag to find the clothes and the toiletries she had packed on the day they tried to run from Glory in the Winnebago.
 
Spike nodded, suddenly interested in the dusty ground at his feet.
 
“When I got rid of the Scoobie get-a-way mobile after you….it was still in there. Everyone else had gotten their stuff out, but I didn’t know what to do with yours. Dawn was still pretty torn up about what had happened; started bloody cryin’ at the sight of a stake once. Couldn’t give it to her, so I just kept it.”
 
He finally looked up, flinching at the sympathetic light he found in her eyes and completely misunderstanding the reason for it.
 
“It wasn’t like before, so don’t get all snippy. Haven’t built another bloody shrine to you, if that’s what your thinkin’,” he said defensively, sounding more like his old big bad persona for the first time since her sudden reappearance.
 
Buffy sighed. She hadn’t been thinking that at all, but she was too tired to go into it with him right now. She looked down smoothing out her skirt.
 
“Well, I think I can safely assume you didn’t have a hand in picking out what to bury me in,” she quipped, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “This is awful.”
 
She tried to laugh but burst into sobs instead. Spike was beside her in a flash, gathering her up in his arms and rocking her back and forth, doing whatever he could it try to ease his mate’s pain and confusion.
 

 
A little while later, Spike paced the upper level as he listened for Buffy to emerge from the shower in the lower level of his crypt. He had been waiting for quite a while, enjoying the heady vanilla scent of her soap and shampoo that wafted through the air.
 
The water stopped and her heard her moving around. He decided to give her a few minutes to dress before going down to see if she needed any help getting up the ladder. He stopped his pacing and closed his eyes, using the pull of the Claim to gauge her emotions. Connecting with her, he sighed with relief. She wasn’t hurting or in pain. In fact she was feeling slightly amused, surprised and humbled.
 
He frowned in confusion. What could she be doing? He heard the rustle of papers and a soft gasp from her and his eyes widened. With lightening speed, he jumped down to the second floor and whipped around the ladder.
 
“Oh Bollocks,” he grumbled, taking a step out of the shadows.
 
Buffy stood there with the papers in her hand, looking down at them in wonder. Most of them were sketches of her, but there was also a few scribbled lines of sappy poetry he had tried to compose.
 
“Spike? You…you did these?”
 
Spike moved, trying to take them. She jerked away, clutching them protectively to her chest. He sighed in defeat. No way could he weasel his way out of this.
 
“I get bored sometimes. Sunnydale is not exactly a 24 hour Mardi Gras.”
 
“Then why stay?” Buffy asked.
 
“Thought it was obvious. Made a promise to a lady that I would protect her lil sis until the end of the world,” Spike whispered, taking a step closer to her.
 
“Spike…”
 
“Wait.” He held up a hand to silence her. “I want you to know  ... I do remember what I said. The promise. To protect her. If I had done that ... even if I didn't make it ... you wouldn't have had to jump,” he said in anguish.
 
“But I want you to know, I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but ... after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again ... do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways …”
 
“Spike, stop,” Buffy commanded, her voice sounding stronger; more like her old self.
 
Spike’s head snapped up, his eyes unflinching as they met hers.
 
“I couldn’t get out of that coffin. I tried, but I thought…“ Buffy shuddered for a moment then began to walk over to him. “Then, I felt you coming. I knew I was going to be all right.”
 
She stopped, her lips scant inches from his. She looked into his eyes, trying to convey all that she felt. “You DID save me when it counted. Tonight…you saved me,” she whispered.
 
Their lips touched for the briefest second before the sound of Spike’s crypt door crashing open interrupted what promised to be the sweetest kiss either one of them had ever experienced.
 
“SPIKE!!” They heard from above. There was a flurry of footsteps flooding into his dwelling.
 
Buffy stiffened. Spike stroked his fingers over her cheek and down her slender neck to his mark, rubbing it in a soothing gesture.
 
“Spike, are you here?” They heard it the same voice call out. Both recognized it as Willow’s voice. Belatedly, Spike remembered sensing the powerful magic surrounding Buffy as he dug her out of her supposed final resting the place.
 
Of course, The Witch…
 
He looked down at Buffy sensing that her suspicions mirrored his; that somehow her beloved Scoobies had something to do with her untimely return.
 
She was not ready to see them, not yet.
 
“Don’t worry, pet,” he said softly, guiding her over to sit on the rumpled bed. His mild tone belied the cold fury in his darkening blue eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. Buffy found herself relieved to know that his rage wasn’t directed at her, but at the interlopers upstairs. He brushed a kiss over her hair and went to the ladder.
 
“I’ll take care of this.”
tbc...
thank you to Spikeslovebite for beta'ing this chapter!
Thank you so much for the reviews! PLEASE keep them coming!!





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