-

Mentally preparing for the role she was about to play, Buffy checked her reflection in a small compact mirror, and smiled insipidly, hoping she would be convincing enough to fool Spike. She was dressed in the ‘bots clothes; from the ridiculous skirt to the far too sensible shoes, although it was too hot for the jacket.

She practised the smile again, and played nervously with her hair. Buffy lingered a moment outside, desperately trying to calm herself. She took a deep breath; it was time.

Slamming the door open, she bounced in, placing an artificial frown on her face as she glanced at the vampire motionless in front of her.

She had to control herself, because really she wanted to jump back in horror. He wasn’t just beaten up; he was thrashed.

She hadn’t really seen the damage Glory had done to Spike back at the apartment, and up close, he looked like he’d been tortured half to death. Which, in essence, he had.

Mentally shaking herself, she walked towards him

“Spike! You’re covered in sexy wounds.”

He took a while to answer, not even looking at her at first, but eventually sat up and turned his head so he could see her out of the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. He croaked out, “Yeah. I feel real sexy.”

He paused, his arms failing to support his body slightly, and for all she’d hated him, Buffy almost forgot herself and jumped to catch him. Instead, she stared expectantly, waiting for him to speak again, unsure of what to say.

“Where have you been?”

She’d rehearsed the line by heart, and hopefully it now sounded robotic and inane enough to pass for her copy. “I fell down and got confused. Willow fixed me. She’s gay.”

She supposed he’d be glaring at her with suspicion if he could have looked anything but broken at that point, but his reply spoke for itself. “Will fixed you? I thought they’d melt you into scrap, too.”

Damn, Buffy mentally admonished herself; apparently, the bleach and the bruising didn’t affect his head too badly.

Adlibbing, she smiled widely and explained, “They were confused. Do you wanna ravage me now?”

She looked at him expectantly, trying to keep that plastic smile from faltering as he swallowed painfully and said weakly, “Give us a minute. Got some bones that need mending.”

She made a concerted effort to not grimace and changed her tact. “Why did you let that Glory hurt you?”

He swallowed again, and despite not actually needing to breathe, he was - in small shallow rattles like a dying man. “She wanted to know where the key was.”

“Oh, well I can tell her,” Buffy turned as though to leave, “and then you’ll-”

“NO!” Spike shouted with all the force he had, then coughed weakly. She turned around to face him again and could see the blood against his teeth. “You can’t ever. Glory never finds out.”

The confusion etched onto her face was real. “Why?”

Shouting in protest had taken a toll on his voice, and it came out a raspy whisper, “'Cause Buffy - the other, not so pleasant Buffy - anything happened to Dawn, it'd destroy her. I couldn't live, her bein' in that much pain. Let Glory kill me first.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “Nearly bloody did.”

It was at that moment that time stopped for Buffy.

He loved her.

Spike really loved her.

A vampire had almost died for her and her family secret. He would have died for her.

Buffy decided she couldn’t be held accountable for what happened next.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Oh, Spike. How will you ravage me when you are beaten and bloodied half to death?”

She watched him closely as he sighed, obviously frustrated with the supposed Buffy-bot, “Just give us a few minutes, love. I’ll be right as rain and have you over this sarcophagus faster than you can say-“

“Nurse!” Buffy suddenly blurted out.

Spike tentatively raised an eyebrow, thinking that perhaps the robot had been rewired wrong.

She continued, seemingly oblivious to his strained disbelief. “Nurse Buffy, Mister Spike. I’m here to take care of your every need.”

Spike looked downwards, shaking his head as much as his injuries would allow. “Bloody Warren, and his sodding programs.”

She was pushing that nagging alarm bell to the back of her mind – this was Spike, and she couldn’t believe what she was about to do, but he’d given everything for her, and she wanted to give something back. A crumb.

Or, perhaps something more.

“Spike, as your Nurse I’m ordering you to lie back and relax, while I take care of you!”

Grudgingly, and wincing again, Spike eased himself down onto the slab of rock. Pleased with herself, Buffy sauntered over to him and jumped up onto the tomb, kneeling between his legs.

Trying not to disturb his recovery, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped him, before easing his jeans down his hips.

Wow, was her first thought, followed by, No wonder he’s healing slowly if that’s where all the blood is going.

Biting down the warning in her mind, and any thought of repercussions, she wrapped a hand around the cool length, and he hissed sharply in reply.

She bent down and curled her tongue over the tip, flicking gently while she pumped slowly with her hand. Despite his injuries, Spike involuntarily thrust upwards, craving the soft warmth of her mouth. Forgetting herself, Buffy giggled softly and continued to stroke him at a leisurely pace.

Not wanting to tease him further, she took as much of him in her mouth as she could, still using the other hand to pump his straining cock.

He began rhythmically thrusting upwards, bringing tears to her eyes when he hit her throat. She pulled back slightly, and began sucking.

Hard.

“Oh fuck, Buffy…”

She moaned around him, feeling herself growing wet from him saying her name that way.

The moaning pushed Spike over the edge, and he came, sputtering into her mouth, with her name on his lips like a mantra.

He relaxed, and Buffy sat up, pleased with her handiwork. Suddenly he sat up and sniffed the air, then looked directly at her. “Buffy..?”

Like a deer caught in the headlight of an oncoming car, Buffy froze until coming to her senses.

She bolted out of the door and didn’t stop running until she got home.

Stupid.

-

-

Buffy hurried through her front door and climbed the stairs, sighing in relief when it was clear that the house was empty. She could still taste Spike’s come in her mouth, could remember the feel of him and the sound of him as he whispered her name. Regardless of how truly wrong it should have been, she couldn’t shake the unmistakable feeling of right - feeling him in her hand, her mouth-

Wait.

Since when did Buffy fantasise about Spike?

Rolling the tension out of her shoulders, she realised that maybe the attraction was a little redundant at this point. She’d given him a blowjob.

She groaned, a wave of unwanted arousal hitting her like a tonne of bricks. Her panties were soaked through. Checking her reflection in her vanity mirror, she saw a wretchedly horny slayer gazing back at her.

Definitely time for a cold shower, she thought. Heading to the bathroom, Buffy tried to think of anything but Spike. Glory, mortal danger, end of the world…

Sighing, she shed the Buffy-bots clothes, climbed into the shower and turned the handle sharply. The cold spray hit her body all too quickly, making her shiver with-

Antici-

-Her hand, acting entirely of its own accord, found the scorching wet between her legs and deftly plunged a finger inside-

-pation?


At what point did the cold do something for her the way this was, and why? She should have realised undressing would be a bad thing. She should have realised that perhaps oral sex and Spike were not things that should ever, ever be put together.

What Buffy did realise was that at this moment she didn’t really care

Gasping and leaning back against the shower wall, she let the cold spray wash over her. She circled a finger round her clit as unwanted images of Spike filled her brain, and imagined what it would be like to say goodbye to duty to friends and family and to think of her own wants for once.

Slipping another finger inside her, she imagined Spike kneeling at her feet, licking furiously at her clit and his fingers in her instead of her own. The image pushed her over the edge, and she came; panting into the curtain of water, knees shaking and swearing softly, “Oh, fuck.”

Snapping back to reality and shivering slightly, Buffy turned the water temperature up and washed up - ready to go back and face the day.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Buffy!” Xander opened his arms in some gesture of thanks. “Just the slayer we’ve been waiting on.”

Having only just walked through the door of the Magic Box, Buffy sighed and faced her friends.

“Did you kill Spike?” asked Anya.

Buffy shook her head. “He didn’t tell her.”

Giles looked up at her curiously. “What?”

Rubbing her neck, she sighed, “He protected us. He didn’t tell Glory anything.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Tara looked puzzled. “I mean, we’re all safe and sound – for the time being at least. Unless I’m missing something.” She frowned in apology at Buffy. “Am I missing something?”

Polishing his glasses, Giles answered Tara’s question before Buffy could open her mouth. “I think perhaps we’ve misjudged Spike.”

Holding up his arms defensively, Xander piped in. “Hey, hey. I know he did a good thing and all, but this is Spike we’re talking about. The vampire who’s been dead set on killing you since forever.” He shuddered slightly. “And, are we forgetting the ooky Buffy-double sex toy?”

Exasperated, Buffy raised her voice. “No. Not forgetting, Xander. The robot was disgusting. It’s just…” She looked down at her feet, suddenly feeling very weary. “Even you said he was in bad shape.”

“Bad shape, yes,” agreed Xander. “In need of a babysitter – not so much. He’s a vampire, Buffy.”

“He might need some blood.” Anya added, absentmindedly.

Buffy stared at Giles, and said, “Right! Blood. A-and supplies. Gauze, bandages, maybe even stitches.”

“Buff-“

“I don’t wanna hear it, Xand. He took one for the team. He protected the last living person in my family that’s worth a damn, with his life-“

“Unlife.”

She shook her head, “Fine. Unlife. Whatever. I’m not saying we give him a membership pass as one of the gang. It’s just…” Feeling hopeless, she shrugged her shoulders. “We’re not monsters. The guy deserves at least a chance to get back on his feet.”

“I get that. I just thought – maybe you’ve had a long day. One of us could take care of this.”

Buffy looked abashed.

“Yes, Buffy.” Giles smiled fondly at his slayer. ”You’re tired – between a raid on Glory’s home and the vision quest, it’s been a hard few days. I’ll take care of it.”

Glad for the conflict to be over, Tara offered, “Me and Wills will take care of Dawn. You could have some you time.”

Hugging her arms, she smiled weakly at her friends. “Thanks guys, but I think this has to be me. It’ll give me a chance to,” explain about the blowjob, “tell him what’s going on and,” that no one can ever know, “maybe find out if he saw anything useful.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Everyone offered you a way out of this, thought Buffy, but you had to say no.

She stood outside Spikes crypt, smoothing down her shirt to calm her nerves. Raising a fist to the door, she stopped herself – since when do I knock?

Slamming the door open, she walked into the dark – once again seeing Spike’s prone form on the sarcophagus.

Appearing slightly better than before, Spike sat up. “What have you got in the basket there Goldilocks? More treats for Grandma?”

Buffy grimaced. “Thanks for that disturbing visual. And, I think you’ll find it was Little Red Riding Hood.”

If Spike could have raised an eyebrow in answer, he would have. “Right you are. So what’s in the bag?”

She looked down at her shoes. “You know. Medical stuff. Blood. I thought you might…”

“Not that I’m complainin’, pet, but why the special treatment?” He stared intently at her, hoping she’d catch his meaning.

Stubbornly, Buffy frowned at him. “You took one for the team, Spike. Anyone else would get the same.”

“So you’re saying every time your little friend, Xander, takes a blow he gets, well,” he shrugged, and winced momentarily. “Yeah. A blow.” He looked as suggestive as someone with a bashed in face ever could. “And the watcher, pet? I don’t wanna count the amount of times-“

With a murderous glare, Buffy interrupted him. “Gross, Spike. No! We’re not even having this conversation. What happened earlier.” She threw her free arm up in frustration. “It didn’t even happen.” She sat next to him and started, albeit violently, tending to his wounds. “Now keep still and shut up!”

Spike unsuccessfully tried to roll his eyes, as they were mostly swollen shut. “No need to get shirty, love. Just thought you might like me to return the favour, is all.”

Exasperated, Buffy poured some alcohol on a particularly nasty looking wound, and Spike hissed in pain. “I’m not shirty. And there’s no favour!”

She put the alcohol down and tossed him a packet of blood. “It’s human. Not very fresh, but-“

“It’ll do.”

She sighed. Resting back on her hands as he eagerly drank, she said, “Look Spike, about earlier.”

His stare was nothing short of expectant. Absurdly, the blood bag was still hanging from his mouth.

Fortunately, Buffy didn’t notice. “I-I don’t know why I did that.”

-