Just thought I’d clarify why I went in the direction I did. =)
Also, be prepared to hate Angel. I’m not an Angel-basher by nature, which you likely wouldn’t know with the next couple chapters. I actually like Angel quite a bit. He just proved very easy to pick on.
He thrived on the steadiness of her heartbeat and the race of her pulse. He felt it in every melodic breath she took. Every word she whispered as he raced her home. When he ran up the steps to her front porch, Spike didn’t bother to ring the bell. He wasn’t about to lessen his hold on Buffy; not for the world. As for the door, a swift kick opened it just fine.
“Hold on, you moron,” Angel droned behind him, holding his hand to his sore neck. “You can’t get in without an invitation.”
Spike didn’t bother dignifying it with a response. He didn’t even toss the git a look. He figured his unobstructed entrance into the Summers residence said everything a well-barbed insult couldn’t.
Joyce Summers jumped to her feet as he exploded into the entry hall. “Oh my God. Buffy!”
“She’s fine,” Spike replied, his voice hitting a shrill note. “She’s fine.”
He didn’t waste anymore time. He just barreled up the stairs.
“Oh my God!” Joyce gasped behind him, then screamed when Angel attempted to follow Spike to the upstairs bathroom. “Oh my God. No. No.”
Spike shut the door as Angel’s pathetic attempts to explain how he wasn’t a bad guy anymore began rolling off the wanker’s lying tongue. He carted Buffy quickly to the shower and twisted the nozzle until cold water washed over them.
“Come on, baby,” he coaxed frantically. “Come on. Look at me.”
“Spike…”
God, her eyes were swollen shut. Her gorgeous face was marred with bruises and cuts. She was bleeding, and he didn’t want to look where. He didn’t want to see something fatal—something that stole his hope away.
He brushed his lips against a purple patch of skin and shuddered. “Sweetheart…”
“I’m okay,” she murmured, digging her fingers into his shoulders. “He didn’t…he just got to beat me around a bit. You got there…before anything…anything else happened.”
The fact that he hadn’t been there to stop it knifed at his gut. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. I should’ve known what was happening. I jus’ didn’t…I didn’t think. It was right there in front of me, an’ I didn’t think.”
“Wha…Spike?”
“It’s called the Cruciamentum, pet. It’s something the Council puts the slayers through when they turn eighteen. A test. A sodding test. It’s the reason for everything.” He choked, his eyes misting. “Your powers. The reason you’ve felt weak. It’s…God, I’ve been so bloody blind.”
She tried to open her eyes and moaned, cold water raining over her bruises. “T-test?”
“Brains over brawn thing, or so I’ve read.” He kissed her brow and whimpered when she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Buffy shook her head. “You didn’t…Spike, this isn’t…your fault.”
“I could’ve stopped it. If I’d known—”
“It’s okay.”
Spike shook his head. “I’m gonna kill them. Angel first, then your Watcher. I’m gonna do it, Slayer. They’re the ones who did this to you. They put you in there with that…in there with that bastard.”
The astonishment that flashed across her face was heartbreaking. “Giles?”
“Watcher’s in on it. It’s the sodding Cruciamentum. He’s the one who did it. Administered the drug. He’s the one.”
Buffy whimpered again and shook her head. “No. No, he wouldn’t. He—”
Spike sighed. The Watcher would be a blind spot. He knew it, and that would only make his betrayal all the more painful. “He had to, luv. God, I’m so sorry. I should have—”
The door burst open before he could finish his thought, and his nostrils were assaulted with the stench of Angel.
“That’s enough,” the overbearing sod growled, delivering a punch to his face before Spike could react. Not that he could have reacted. Wild horses couldn’t convince him to let go of Buffy; Angel, in that, didn’t stand a chance. “There’s enough for us to explain without you twisting her head around.”
“Oh dear Lord,” another voice said. “Buffy…”
Spike huffed angrily and twisted, holding her to his chest. “Yeah, Watcher,” he snarled. “Look your fill. This is what you did to her.”
“Spike,” Angel said, his voice barely above a growl. “Give her to me.”
“I’m not a doll!” Buffy yelped, throwing her arms around Spike’s neck.
Her observation went ignored. “Hand her over.”
Spike jerked back, his grip around her tightening. “You touch her an’ you’re dust.”
“He’s pretty much running that risk either way,” Buffy observed, then whimpered and hissed when Angel’s hand wrapped around her upper arm. “Don’t touch me.”
“We need to see where you’re hurt,” Angel said softly.
“I believe I’ll be the one inspecting her bodily,” Spike snarled. “Seeing as I’m not the one that jus’ tried to have her killed, you enormous arse!”
Angel’s eyes flashed dangerously. “It’s not like I had a choice. It’s the Cruciamentum, Spike. It happens to all slayers, and we can’t stop it just because it’s Buffy.”
He growled. “Yeah. I’m sure you did a lot of trying, in that regard.”
“If you think this was fun for me—”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Giles rolled his eyes and wheedled himself between them. “I can assure the both of you that Buffy does not need this petty show of testosterone. Or a cold shower.”
“What Buffy needs is to be addressed like a person,” Buffy quipped and waved. “A fairly present person.”
Spike’s eyes drifted back to her bruised face, and he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Even wounded, she was the picture of strength. “You’re incredibly present, luv,” he murmured.
Her bottom lip poked out. How she could pout in her state was beyond him, but he found it adorable. “You’re the only one who sees me,” she replied.
“Buffy,” Giles said with a soft sigh. “Come with me, please.”
“No.”
He released another sigh, slightly testier this time. “Please come with me. There are some things I need to tell you.” His icy gaze drifted to Spike, who snarled and bared his fangs. “Things that neither Angel nor Spike are equipped to explain. Now, if you want answers, come with me. If not, you’re perfectly welcome to have Spike continue his method of…dousing you with cold water.”
Spike snarled again and jerked back. “You lay a hand on her—”
“Spike…it’s okay.” She attempted to open her eyes but only moaned and whimpered. “It’s okay. It’s just Giles.”
“He—”
“Has some explaining to do,” she concluded.
Angel cleared his throat irritably, still massaging his wound with one hand. “I think that’s going around.”
“Spike,” Buffy groaned as she felt out for Giles’s hand, shivering as she stepped out of the blond vampire’s embrace. “Please remind me, after I get my strength back, to knock Angel’s teeth out.”
“Gladly.” He reached for her and growled when Angel stepped forward. The bloody brute just didn’t know when to quit. He was still growling when he shook his head in resignation; the rumble only drowned out when he turned his eyes back to Buffy. “If you need me, pet, scream.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Spike cast Giles another mistrustful glance. “Jus’ scream. Yeah?”
“Make with the big shrill. I got it.” She leaned forward and frowned when she met nothing but air. “I can’t see you to kiss you.”
If he had a heartbeat, it’d be racing right about now. The fact that she’d reached for him in front of her Watcher and her ex meant the whole bloody world to him. Spike murmured her name piously and seized her lips before the others could drag her away.
“I’ll be right downstairs,” he whispered. “Right downstairs.”
“Yes, yes,” Angel grumbled, wedging between them. “Giles?”
The Watcher nodded, his face tight with displeasure. “Help me get her to her room.”
Spike’s eyes went wide. Her room? There was no bloody way he was letting Angel into her room. “Now hold on jus’ a second—”
“No. No holding. You’re leaving.” Angel gripped his upper arm. “You brought her home. You’ve used up all your usefulness. Leave.”
“Hey!” Buffy started struggling in Giles’s grip, but she was both too tired and too sore to fight. “Angel! You don’t have permission to kick anyone out of my house!”
“He’s—”
“He saved my life! Which is more than I can say for you, you jackass!” Buffy attempted to kick at him, but fell back in her Watcher’s arms with a pitiful moan. “There will be no kicking anyone out. Anyone who isn’t you, anyway.”
Giles sighed. “Buffy, please. I need to check your wounds. See—”
Buffy nodded. “Okay.”
“Angel?”
Before the blond vampire could object, the big brooding sod had actually dared to lift the Slayer into his arms. Spike couldn’t help it; his eyes flashed and he vamped uncontrollably, releasing a thunderous roar. “Don’t touch her!” he screamed. “You bleeding bastard!”
Angel rolled his eyes and dumped Buffy unceremoniously back into Giles’s arms. “I’ll be there in a sec,” he said, fisting a handful of duster and dragging Spike into the hallway.
“You unbelievable wanker. Do you have any idea how much I’m going to kill you?”
“Do you have any idea what you did tonight?” Angel shot back. “The Council—”
Spike snarled and leapt forward, only to be greeted with a near blasé punch to the jaw. His head reeled back and his hand went to his chin. “So now you’re the poster boy for followin’ the rules, is that it? Your sodding li’l test nearly got the girl killed. An’ the fact that you’re out here trying to justify what you did leads me to believe that you care less about her an’ more about the fact that she’s moved on.”
“It’s not that she moved on. It’s what she moved on to.”
“Last I checked, that falls under the heading of none of your business.”
Angel crossed his arms, unimpressed. “It’s Buffy. I made it my business. Now get the hell out.”
“She doesn’t want me gone.”
“She just got the stuffing kicked out of her. She’s not thinking clearly.”
Spike roared again, jumping for the sod’s overly large throat before he could think. “An’ whose fault is that?” he screamed, only to be seized by the lapels of his duster and handed a one-way ticket down the Summers staircase. The banister cracked and Joyce screamed and covered her mouth, rushing to his side like a doting mother and helping him to his feet.
Angel stood at the top of the stairs, his eyes dark. “Too bad the splinters missed your heart,” he drawled.
Spike shook himself free of sawdust and staggered to his feet. “If you think you can keep me away from her—”
“You’re not what she needs right now. I’m going to go help her.” Angel turned to head for Buffy’s bedroom. “Stay or don’t stay. Of course, I’d prefer that you didn’t, but if you care about her at all, you’ll let me help her.”
“If you cared about her at all, you wouldn’t’ve let her get hurt in the firs’ place!”
“The Cruciamentum had to happen. I had no say in it.” Angel spread his hands and shrugged. “Someday, Spike, you’ll realize that not all of your problems go away by blaming me.”
“Not all,” Spike seethed as he watched the git vanish. “Jus’ enough.”
If Angel thought he was going to sit down here quietly, he had another thing coming.
Buffy was Spike’s girl. He’d fought for her, and she wanted him. She didn’t want Angel. No. She wanted Spike. She wanted him. She’d reached for him. She’d asked for his kiss. She was his girl.
Something Angel was about to find out.
To be continued