Buffy couldn’t believe that he was there, sitting on the edge of her bed and staring down at her with bright blue eyes full of pity. After all this time, so many months of wondering who he was, where he was and if she would ever see him again, it took damn near being killed by her fiancé to locate him; albeit unintentionally. With a deep sigh, Buffy felt her resolve shatter a moment before tears spilled over her thick lashes and fell onto her bruised cheeks. Pain, hot and sharp, shot through her as her body started to shake uncontrollably, causing her broken ribs to throb and sear in burning agony. Unable to control her emotions, she simply fell apart. Without having to ask for comfort, he pulled her gently into his arms and let her cry against his chest. Buffy could feel the warmth of his breath as he whispered in her ear, the rumble of his voice deep in his chest and the promise in his words as he murmured to her that everything was going to be all right. Somehow, it didn’t matter that they didn’t even know one another, all that mattered was that they were together now.
Lorne moved from the foot of the bed across the room to stand next to Angel, who was glowering at the blonde couple holding on to one another tightly. Nudging the brooding man in the side, Lorne ushered his longtime friend out the door and in to the hallway in order to allow the couple to have some privacy. Once they were in the hallway, Lorne had barely eased the door shut when Angel asked, “Do you have any idea what the hell just happened in there?”
With a knowing smile plastered across his handsome features, truly happy in spite of the sorrow that had plagued the day, Lorne chuckled at the sight of Angel pacing back and forth in front of the doorway. Lorne spread his hands out in front of his torso, palms up and shrugged. “They finally found one another.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Angel barked, halting his nervous pacing for the moment to glower at Lorne.
“I don’t know the whole story, Angelcakes, just bits and pieces I’ve managed to put together on my own.” Lorne lowered himself into a nearby chair and motioned for Angel to do this same, not at all surprised when he refused and started pacing once more. Shrugging, it was up to Angel if he wanted to wear holes in the soles of off the fantastic leather boots on his feet. “Anyway, I gather they met at my bar sometime last summer. There may or may not have been some heavy petting in the women’s bathroom, but I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that there was at least something going on in there based on the disarray of clothing on both their parts when they exited.” He paused and made eye contact with Angel, and judged by the look on Buffy’s former beau he was none too pleased to hear about Buffy’s sexual conquests. Lorne smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle from the front of his puce suit pants and continued with his explanation, in spite of Angel’s brooding expression. “Seems that after that night our turtle doves kept missing one another, never knowing where to find the other. Your men, Gunn and Wesley, mentioned that Spike saw one of her concerts a couple of months ago, before the tour, but realized he’d missed his chance with her thanks to that Neanderthal she was dating. He left without even talking to her.” Lorne clucked his tongue in disapproval and tried to find a smidgeon of comfort in the hard plastic chair that had clearly been crafted and sold in Hell. A memory popped in to his brain and he snapped his fingers, before sharing it with Angel. “I did hear from Faith that the song that shot them to the top of the charts, that one Buffy wrote a while back? Allegedly she wrote it about your man in there, although Faith could never get her to confirm that suspicion. Although, from what we just saw in there, I’d say there isn’t a doubt in my pretty little mind now as to who that song was about.”
Angel stopped pacing, freezing in the middle of the hallway so abruptly that he almost caused a nurse to run straight into him. Mumbling a quick apology without bothering to make eye contact with the nurse, he mulled over what Lorne had just said. While he would never admit to anyone else, Angel had mistakenly assumed that Taken Over Me had been written about him. Hell, Buffy had never been involved with anyone else after their relationship had ended and while that had occurred only a few days before they graduated high school and they had both moved on, there had been a sliver of a thought that maybe Buffy had been harboring some feelings for him over the years since she had never dated anyone else seriously…at least until Riley. Not that Angel wasn’t head over in heels in love with his wife, but the thought that maybe Buffy still pinned for him had fluffed up his ego a bit. ‘Man, I’m such an idiot.’ Angel berated himself mentally as he slid into a chair by Lorne with a defeated slouch. “Why in the hell didn’t Spike say anything to me when I told him who the client was I wanted him to work with?” He asked, confusion furrowing his brow as he frowned at Lorne, who offered only a shrug in replace of an actual answer and smirked like he knew what was really on Angel’s mind.
Inside the dimly lit hospital room, the lights on the lowest setting at the behest of Buffy, Spike held her while she cried against his chest. He cursed the Gods or whomever controlled fate for throwing this curve ball at him. When Angel had called for his help with his friend, Buffy, Spike’s spirits had soared upon hearing her name and had stupidly assumed that it was a run of the mill security detail that for some reason, Angel’s company couldn’t handle personally. While on the phone, a knot had formed deep in the pit of his stomach and his blood had started to boil in anger. After hearing all of the unpleasant details, Spike had noticed the passion in Angel’s voice that led him to believe that the connection to the client at hand was far more than simply professional. Curious, Spike had asked how Angel was connected to Buffy, a long forgotten memory nagged at the edge of his mind, and realized that Buffy was the young woman who had broken his friend’s heart and had ultimately set the events in motion that had allowed Angel and Spike to meet. How strange that their lives had been connected this whole time and yet, they had never met before that night at Caritas.
While gently stroking her hair as Buffy continued to weep softly in his arms, Spike let his mind wander as he recalled the night he had met Angel. He had been at Willie’s, a seedy bar on the other side of the tracks, drowning his sorrows in whiskey after professing his undying love for Cecily, the attractive girl that sat next to him in class. The curly haired brunette had laughed cruelly at the poem he’d slaved away creating specifically for her, his muse, the beautiful Cecily who’d captured his heart the first day of class. Shattered, Spike had fled the campus and escaped to the less than stellar establishment to lick his wounds and forget the whole incident in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey.
About halfway through the bottle of amber colored cheap whiskey, Angel had sauntered in to the bar with a broody expression and claimed the seat next to Spike at the dingy. At first, they had sat side by side in silence, taking shot after shot of liquor to ease their own separate sorrows, but eventually their drunken state had led them to conversation. After sharing his own pathetic story of heartache, Angel had shared his own tale of woe, regaling Spike with the story of how he’d been kicked to the curb by his girlfriend who had stabbed him in the heart and sentenced him to a life that felt like Hell; although, he had deserved it for being a downright bastard to her for months. Once the show and tell portion of their fledgling relationship was over, Spike had drunkenly proclaimed Angel to be his new best friend and they had proceeded to both swear off women. Since that night, they had, in fact, stayed close friends, but their promise to avoid women had faltered slightly.
After arriving at the hospital, Spike’s original plan had been to casually saunter into her room as though nothing had happened between them the previous summer, not wanting to risk the chance of upsetting Angel. Of course, after seeing Buffy, the beautiful golden haired goddess of his dreams, broken and bruised and utterly defeated, his resolve had crumbled and sent his original plan down the drain. Spike hadn’t missed the look of surprise and flicker of betrayal in Angel’s eyes before his friend had been escorted out of the room by Lorne to give Buffy privacy and while he hated to upset one of his oldest friends, there was nothing in the world that would have kept him from her at that moment.
Sniffling, Buffy pulled away from his embrace and tenderly wiped away the residual tears clinging to her lashes. Embarrassed at how easily she had fallen apart, how quickly she had fallen in to the arms of a stranger, she felt her cheeks redden with shame beneath the ginger touch of her fingers as she swiped away the tears on her cheeks. She attempted to cover up a cringe with a tentative smile, but failed miserably from the pain that flared up from the simple movement and ended up grimacing at Spike instead. “Thanks for the shoulder. Sorry about getting your shirt all wet.” She finally managed to say softly to him, after several moments of awkward silence. Glancing up into his indigo eyes that held only pity and concern for her now, instead of the heat and passion she’d recalled on many nights since their interlude the previous summer. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Spike, I go by Spike.” With the softest touch he could manage, he brushed aside a lock of limp golden hair that had tumbled down over Buffy’s forehead and tucked it behind her ear. “And, don’t worry about the shirt, love. Nothing a good washing won’t take care of.”
Buffy let her gaze linger over Spike’s face, his perfect features doing nothing but reminding her that her own was a hideous disaster. Ashamed, Buffy turned away from him and let her hair fall down like a curtain to cover her face from his curious gaze. She hated that the only reason he was finally in her life was because of the bad decisions she had made regarding her love life. “I don’t want you to see me this way.” She murmured softly as she scooted back up against the pillows so that she could lay back down. Tears stung in her eyes, she sniffled and felt them leak out to slide down her battered black and blue cheeks. “I need to be alone now…please?”
Torn, Spike didn’t know what to do. He was afraid that if he left she might disappear again, although he knew that wasn’t exactly logic speaking since she was under protective custody until Riley was captured, and he hated the thought of leaving her alone and the possibility of her fiancé showing up while he wasn’t around her. But, on the other hand, he didn’t want to risk having Buffy upset with him for refusing to leave, not after he’d finally found her. Hesitantly, he reached out to stroke her hair and felt sick when she flinched, as though there was any possible way he could ever hurt her. Pulling his hand back to simply rest on top of hers, paying extra attention to not to disturb any of the tubes that were attached to her. “Right then, yeah…I’ll just be out in the hallway.” Spike finally said in response to her request, surprising even himself with how calm his voice sounded when it felt like he was screaming inside. “I won’t be far if you need me, pet.” Easing off the bed, Spike crossed the room in a handful of purposeful strides and opened the door. He paused briefly before leaving, looking back over his shoulder to where Buffy had returned to staring out the window. When she failed to return his look, Spike slipped quietly out of the room.
As the door closed behind him, Spike slumped into the chair nearest to Buffy’s door, his head resting in his hands. Seeing Buffy that way pained him, not just the stitches and bruising that marred her beautiful features, but he hated the absence of light that had seemed to radiate from her when she was on stage, and in his arms. While he had seen numerous accounts of violent behavior and the damage left behind in its wake, he would never be able to understand or stomach that violence when it was unleashed on a woman or child. It truly took a cowardly man to do something like what had been done to Buffy.
Spike had no idea how long he’d been sitting in that uncomfortable chair, slumped over with his elbows resting on his thighs and his head cradled in his hands, staring at the speckled linoleum floor. It was only when the voices in the hallway grew louder and bodies started to fill in the space around him that Spike looked up to find Angel had returned with three people in tow; an older couple with grief stricken expressions and a young woman with doe eyes and cast covering one arm. He could only assume they were Buffy’s family and Spike straightened in his seat upon the realization.””
“Spike, how’s she doing?” Angel inquired the moment that Spike raised his head and their worried gazes connected.
“Wants to be alone for a bit, seems to be holding up … as well as can be expected and all.” Spike replied with a sigh as he stood up from the chair and stretched, his joints groaning painfully in protest. “You heard any news ‘bout Riley?”
“No. The police have a unit watching the house to see if he’ll go back home, but so far not a peep out of him. There’s no activity on his credit cards, no recent calls on his cell phone. So far, it seems as though the bastard has disappeared.” Angel reported bitterly, the hatred for the man in question flashing in his chocolate brown eyes. With a tilt of the head and sweep of the arm, he gestured towards the trio to his right and made the necessary introductions. “Spike, this is Buffy’s family. Her mom Joyce, and stepfather, Rupert Giles” He paused long enough for Spike to exchange handshakes with the couple, before motioning towards the petite brunette next to them. “And, this is Dawn, her little sister, who we can thank for her quick thinking, which got help to them as soon as possible.”
“He did that to you?” Spike asked and realized that the tone of his voice was harsher than he’d meant for it to be at the sight of Dawn’s expression. Softening his tone, he tried again, “Did he hurt you like that, pet?”
“Yeah, he wasn’t counting on me being there. Buffy forgot to call him and tell him she’d be in a day early and that I’d be tagging along.” Dawn glanced down at the bright white, fresh cast that covered her arm from mid-bicep all the way down to her fingertips. She lifted her gaze and met Spike’s, tears sparkled in her eyes and she blinked rapidly to attempt to keep them from falling. “This doesn’t compare to what that monster did to my sister though. I sincerely hope he’s lying at the bottom of a ravine right now and very much dead.”
“Me, too, Little Bit.” Spike let his gaze drift down to Dawn’s cast once more and was glad that the injury wasn’t as bad as it could have been had the kid not reacted quickly to the attack. Seeing the injury, however, reminded Spike that he was there in a professional capacity and not in a pleasure one, although he’d rather it be right reverse. Slipping into work mode, he turned to Angel and asked, “Buffy was living with that git, yeah? Where’s she staying when she’s released? Surely she’s not going back to that house?”
“She was only renting that house she lived in before Riley’s.” Joyce informed Spike, her right hand fidgeted with the dangly bit of the necklace she wore, a nervous gesture that he had seen on more than one occasion. Realizing her eldest daughter didn’t have a safe residence to return to, she added, “Buffy can come back to the hotel with us, we could see about getting another room? A suite maybe?”
“That will work for now, Joyce.” Angel nodded in agreement and reached in to his pocket to pull out his cell phone with plans on contacting the hotel directly for Buffy’s parents and handling the details for them. “Although, she’s going to need something more permanent eventually; a place that Riley would never think to look for her.”
“She could stay at my flat.” Spike offered, amazingly nonchalant despite the fact that the mere thought of Buffy in his home, in his bed, had his heart skipping a beat. He then remembered that there was already a blonde occupying his bed, one who was currently at his apartment and had all but moved in permanently. Out of loneliness, Spike had tolerated her presence since she was almost tolerable, so long as her mouth was shut, and was always up for a bit of a tussle between the bedsheets. Plus, having her around eased the loneliness he’d felt since Drusilla had walked out and it kept his mind off of Buffy. Spike made a mental note to nip that situation in the bud as soon as possible and quickly backtracked his offer to have Buffy stay with him. “No, that won’t work. Harmony is there.”
“I have a place in mind, Spike. Cordy’s parents have a place on the beach around Malibu. Very private, has security gates and cameras.” Angel interjected as he flipped open the phone in his hand and started scrolling through the contacts. “I’ll have to give them a call and arrange it, but I don’t for see them having an issue with it. Have you had a chance to get your things together?”
“Not really, mate. I was out of the house when you rang earlier. Mind staying with Buffy for a bit while I run home?” He replied, itching to get going so he could hurry back to her bedside. “Of course, I fully intend on camping out here at the hospital as long as she has to stay.”
“Her doctor said she’d have to stay for a couple of days just to be on the safe side, due to the head injury.” Joyce chimed in. While she would be eternally grateful that Angel was doing everything in his power to keep her baby girl safe, she wanted nothing more than to burst in to that hospital room and bundle Buffy up and take her back to England with the rest of the family, where she could keep her own watchful eye on her daughter.
“Joyce, I’m sure Buffy’s going to come through all this just fine. She’s a fighter.” Angel stated, taking in the mounting worry written all over Joyce’s face. “Plus, Spike’s the best there is when it comes to dealing with matters like this. She’ll be in good hands, I promise. Spike, as for you, head on home and get whatever you’ll need to bunk here for the time being. I’ll talk with the charge nurse and arrange everything. I can stay as long as I am needed, too. Cordy and Connor are at her parents’ house.” Angel paused for a moment and scrubbed his hands over his tired face. “I’m sure Joyce, Rupert and Dawn would like to get some rest. Why don’t you guys go on in and say goodnight to Buffy? I need to talk business with Spike.” Buffy’s family nodded in agreement, the matching expressions of exhaustion etched on their faces giving away the fact that several hours of sleep would be greatly beneficial for the health and overall mood.
Dawn let her parents enter the room first, before she turned back to look at Spike. While his wiry frame and spiked bleached locks didn’t exactly strike fear into her, she was more than aware of the qualifications the man possessed, having overheard Angel talking to her parent’s about him earlier. She pinned him with a serious stare and said, “You take care of her, ok? If anything happens…”
“No worries, I’ve heard about your protective streak. I’m not in any hurry to get on your bad side, Niblet.” Spike replied in all seriousness, cutting Dawn off before she could make her promise of bodily harm in the even that he let her sister get injured, or worse, on his watch. He chuckled softly as Dawn gave him a stern look before disappearing into her sister’s darkened hospital room.
Once the trio was in the hospital room, fully out of earshot, Angel turned towards Spike and crossed his arms over his chest. Angel’s jaw flexed and his eyes hardened as he glared down at his friend, a man that he’d shared countless drinks with and traded war stories with, both in the field and in the matters of love, and asked, “You want to tell me what the story is with you and Buff?”