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Chapter 37 – Conviction


“Hang up the phone, Buffy,” Angelus said, slowly approaching her.

“Buffy-”

“Spike,” she murmured, cutting off whatever he was about to say. “I love you.”

“No! Don’t you say it like that… Buffy!”

Clicking off the phone, she held it firmly in her hand, watching Angelus carefully as he continued to advance on her. “Took you long enough,” she said, keeping an indifferent look on her face. “Want to catch the sights while you were in town?”

“Just thought I’d let you stew in your own nerves for a while.”

“Nerves?” Buffy replied with an easy smile. “I don’t see how I can be nervous about kicking your ass again.”

Angelus’ expression darkened as his breathing quickened. “You weren’t exactly looking so hot yourself, princess,” he said before looking her up and down with an appraising eye. “Although, now is a different story,” he said, his eyes lingering on the outlining swell of her breasts beneath the sports bra. “Might have to sample the goods before I dispose of them.”

“In your dreams,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, the phone still held tightly in her hand.

“Had quite a few of those,” he replied with a smirk.

“They can die with you.”

“You’re so cute when you get all determined,” he said in a patronizing voice. With a cold smile he continued walking around her in a slow circle. “It’s nice that you think so highly of your skills as a fighter that you might actually be able to pull one over on me.”

“I have no intention to pull one over on you, Angel,” Buffy replied in a sweet voice. “You’re going to know exactly what hits you.”

“Just like you did,” he said in a menacing whisper, leaning close to her. “How did it feel?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her. “How did it feel knowing your life could be taken from you at any moment?”

“I’ve never known that feeling. How does it feel for you, right now?”

Narrowing his eyes at her smart-aleck reply, Angelus stood up a little straighter. “You always were my favorite.”

“Favorite?” Buffy repeated skeptically.

“Favorite agent,” he clarified. “The others weren’t nearly as fun.”

“This is a beautiful moment we’re having- can we please fight?” she asked dryly.

“I don’t wanna fight,” Angelus said, once again slowly approaching Buffy as she raised an eyebrow.

“No?” she replied skeptically.

“No, I thought we could get back together,” he said, suppressing the smile on his lips.

“Like you ever had a shot with me,” she said, smirking as his eyes darkened.

“I have one right now,” Angelus replied, letting her know what kind of shot he was talking about. Buffy didn’t need to see a gun to know that he was armed. “And I’m in a generous mood,” he whispered, leaning in close to her, smiling when Buffy didn’t step away. “So if you want to run, I’ll give you a ten-second head start.”

Not backing down, Buffy looked up at him with a cold expression. “I don’t run from things that don’t scare me,” she replied, nearly smiling when his eyes narrowed on her.

“Be careful, Buff. Our last two meetings didn’t exactly end in your favor.”

“I seem to remember you looking like shit by the time you were able to limp away from those meetings,” she said, not showing how uncomfortable she was with having him mere inches away from her. “You don’t scare me, Angelus. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a man. I should have killed you when you least expected it, but no, I had to have some ridiculous idea that a fair fight was the only way to go. Guess what, lover?” she whispered, leaning even closer to him until her lips were nearly touching his. “I’m over it.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before Buffy slammed a punch into his jaw, sending his head sailing back with a snap. Not giving him a chance to recover, she landed a well-placed kick to his knee, using the hand with the phone in it to smash another punch into his nose, trying to ignore the explosion of pain that was traveling from her shoulder down the side of her body.

Angelus reeled back, catching himself on one of the machines. “You’re gonna wish you’d never done that,” he said in a low voice, looking at her with a murderous gaze.

“You know,” she said, slightly winded as she smiled at him. “I really hate it when men dish it out but can’t take it.”

Moving to punch him again, Buffy struggled when Angelus caught her fist in his hand, landing a hit of his own that sent her falling back. Quickly recovering, Buffy spun around, kicking him in the stomach.

Slowly losing the advantage after what felt like hours but was just moments, Buffy breathed heavily, trying to prepare for his next attack.

Each continued trading blows. Buffy felt her body growing weaker, moderately proud of herself for lasting as long as she had with her shoulder sending rivulets of pain through her body with each small movement. Cringing when she was knocked to the ground, her head connecting with one of the weight machines, Buffy dazedly looked up at Angelus’ smiling face as he stood above her. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the gun he was pointing at her.

“Say goodnight, bitch,” he growled.

Seeing his finger tighten on the trigger, Buffy’s breath caught in her throat seconds before slamming her foot into his stomach. Jumping to her feet with a surge of adrenaline, she gave him a high kick to the head, successfully dropping him to the floor. Walking over to him as he tried to sit up, Buffy glared at the man before her, lifting one of the weights off its stand. “Goodnight, bitch,” she said, slamming iron into his face, allowing a small sense of satisfaction when he fell to the ground.

Spinning around in fighting stance at the sound of someone running through the door, Buffy dropped the weight in her hand, never hearing it fall to the floor as she looked into Spike’s eyes.

The two stayed where they were, staring at each other as if they hadn’t seen the other in years. Slowly surveying the mess in the room, Spike’s jaw tightened when he looked at Angelus lying on the floor.

“Is he dead?” he asked, never tearing his eyes away from the other man.

“God, I hope so,” Buffy whispered, feeling as if her strength was draining out of her while Spike leaned over and picked up Angelus’ gun, setting it far out of reach, just in case. “How did you get here so fast?” she asked, wincing at the tiniest movement of her shoulder.

“A lot of people will need to redo their landscaping.”

Buffy managed a tearful smile before throwing herself into Spike’s arms. “You came,” she whispered, burying her head in his chest as his arms banded around her in a tight grip, making her think that nothing could get to her. “You came for me.”

Spike closed his eyes, dropping his head to her shoulder, leaving a soft kiss in his wake. “No one hurts my girl.” Looking over her shoulder to make sure Angelus’ still form was remaining immobile, he smiled. “Obviously,” he added as an afterthought, tightening his hold on Buffy, pausing when he heard her whimper. “Let me look at you,” he whispered, pulling back to cup her face in his hands.

Running his thumb over the area that he knew would be bruised in a few hours, Spike gently touched her skin, the cut on her forehead, her hair. Anything to reassure himself that she was okay. No longer worried about the formalities and what his feelings for her might mean for him, he took comfort in the fact that she was standing in front of him. His hands slid beneath her hair, lightly clasping behind her neck. Unable to resist any longer, he closed the distance between them, brushing a tender kiss to her lips.

Buffy trembled as he deepened the kiss, feeling the tears spilling down her cheeks. Her eyes stayed closed when Spike pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered in a choked voice, the double meaning of his statement not lost on her.

Buffy opened her mouth to respond before her eyes snapped over to the door at the sound of footsteps downstairs.

“It’s Giles,” Spike said in a reassuring voice, waiting until she relaxed before continuing. “I called him on my way over.”

“Buffy!”

Turning at the sound of her name, Buffy offered Giles a weak smile, wearily resting her head against Spike’s chest. “I’m alright, Giles,” she said, looking from her surrogate father to the man holding her. “I’m alright.”

* * * * *

“Damn it, that hurts!” Buffy cried, glaring at the EMT who was attempting to re-stitch her shoulder.

“It’s not supposed to hurt,” he informed her. “I’ve given you enough drugs to dull the pain.”

“Really? Well, why don’t I shoot you in the arm, reopen the wound after that and then stick a needle and thread through your skin and see how hot you feel?”

Spike leaned against the side of the ambulance, smirking as Buffy snapped at the young man.

“I’m doing the best I can,” he said irritably.

Gritting her teeth, Buffy rested her head against the ambulance, closing her eyes in an attempt to dull the pain in her arm. Reopening them a moment later when she felt a warm hand cover hers, she looked at Spike gratefully, breathing a little easier when he gently squeezed her hand. Staring into his eyes for a long moment, Buffy was surprised when the ache of her shoulder seemed to ease.

“Done,” the technician said, repacking his supplies.

“Thanks,” Buffy mumbled, breaking eye contact with Spike as she pushed herself to her feet.

“You feeling alright, love?” he asked, noticing her grimace of pain.

“Yeah,” she murmured, nodding slightly, refusing to look at him. “I’m okay.”

“Buffy, may I have a word with you?” Giles asked, approaching her.

“I’ll be right back,” she said to Spike, following her boss to a remote area so that they could talk without interruptions.

“Angelus is dead.”

“Figured as much,” Buffy replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

“And as for certain new… developments, I’m not sure if they’re particularly wise,” he continued, glancing in Spike’s direction.

“Maybe they are and maybe they’re not,” she said, lifting her uninjured shoulder in a meager shrug. “But it’s my life and… it’s something I need to do,” she said, her eyes silently pleading with him to understand.

“I do wish you’d reconsider,” he said with a sigh.

“I need to do this, Giles,” she said, trying to make him understand. “I’ll hate myself if I don’t.”

“Very well,” Giles said with a sigh, placing a hand on her back and leading her toward the crowd. “I can offer you a place to stay tonight, if you wish. After such a trying day, you need to get your rest.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’d like to stay with Spike,” she said, seeing the man in question turn in surprise when he overheard their conversation as they approached. “If he’ll have me,” she murmured, suddenly feeling more self-conscious, remembering their last meeting at his house.

A relieved smile lit up Spike’s face as he closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll always have you.”








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