Six
Morning smiles
like the face of a newborn child
innocent unknowing
Winter's end
promises of a long lost friend
speaks to me of comfort
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
here in this lonely place
tangled up in our embrace
there's nothing I'd like
better than to fall
but I fear I have nothing to give
Wind in time
rapes the flower trembling on the vine
nothing yields to shelter it
from above
they say temptation will destroy our love
the never ending hunger
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
here in this lonely place
tangled up in our embrace
there's nothing I'd like
better than to fall
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
I have nothing to give
We have so much to lose...
The insistent ring of his cell phone preempted whatever he was about to say in response to Buffy’s heartfelt thanks. Will couldn’t have asked for a more timely interruption. For one thing, he really didn’t know what to say to her, and for another, he was afraid of the conversation taking a turn he didn’t want it to.
Glancing at the number he knew right away it was bad news. “Yeah?”
He listened intently for a moment, then motioned Buffy away from the window. “Shit.”
The intercom buzzer rang as he was disconnecting. Instead of answering it, he herded her into the bedroom. “Grab your things and some clothes for me.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Buffy didn’t hesitate, shoving the new clothes into the duffel bag he thrust at her. She didn’t flinch either, when she saw him loading his gun and shoving ammunition clips into the pockets of his leather duster.
“We’re about to have some unwanted company. Need to get out of here as quickly as possible.” He pulled open a few drawers, tossing her another pair of jeans and a couple of shirts. The intercom sounded again, and this time he headed for the door to answer it.
Buffy could hear his muffled voice, stalling the doorman, and she knew they had very little time. Grabbing a pair of his socks, she pushed her feet into the new boots he’d gotten her, then grabbed one of the over-sized sweaters. It was big and bulky, a soft white knit that very nearly covered her from her neck down to her knees. She reached for the bag, only to squeak when he took it before she could. “We’ve got to head down the stairs. You up for it?”
“Got no choice, right?” At his affirmative nod, she braced herself. “I’m fine.”
Will snapped up the rest of the clips, slipping into his coat easily. He caught a glimpse of what she was wearing, and knowing it was cold out, he handed her one of his jackets. She looked like a waif in clothes that were much too big for her, but he figured it gave her something of an advantage. If nothing else, she’d be warm.
Will opened the door a crack, thankful for once that he was in the far corner of the floor. The stairs were directly to his left, and the bank of elevators was down the hallway and around a corner. They’d have an advantage there. Waving Buffy on, he pushed opened the door and urged her down the stairs. “Go on, kitten, I’ll be right behind you.”
He thought he heard the elevator bell when he was between the sixth and fifth floors, but he couldn’t be sure, since the sound was muffled through layers of concrete and steel; not to mention the volume of some of his neighbors. It didn’t matter though, Gunn had been pretty explicit, and he didn’t want to take the chance that whoever was waiting for him in the lobby was friendly. He hadn’t bothered to get a description from the doorman, just started Buffy on this trek down the stairs.
She was holding up pretty well, all things considered. She was half a floor ahead of him, moving as quickly as she could, given her injuries. The soft panting of her breath was still even, but he knew it would only be a little while before she started having trouble. A couple of floors above him, a door opened, but it was just one of his neighbors, because he could hear the snick-click of a dog’s claws on the steel. So far, so good.
Twenty minutes later, and between the first and second floors, the story wasn’t quite the same. Buffy was hunched over the railing, breathing heavily through her nose. He jumped down the half a flight separating them, his hand curling around her waist. “You okay?”
She couldn’t manage to get enough air to speak, and Spike knew it was bad. “All right, baby, hang on.”
He didn’t have time to think, since he was positive whoever was after them wouldn’t be hesitating. “Can you hold onto me?”
Buffy looked over at him, the question forming in her eyes. “Think it would be easier if I gave you a piggy-back ride. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. I can.” She straightened up, and he had to admire her tenacity. It was clearly obvious she was using will power alone to stay upright. “Let’s do this.”
“Hang on, sweetheart, it’s gonna be tricky.” Will took two steps down, so that all she had to do was lean forward and wrap her arms around his neck. “Here we go.”
It was tricky balancing the extra weight. She wasn’t very heavy, but it still caused a problem. The echo of a door slamming and the sound of more than a single pair of feet pounding on the stairs got him moving though, and Will hit the basement level within moments. The hidden door was on the Tenth Avenue side, away from the service entrance and underneath an adjacent building. Will didn’t bother looking for the light switch, making his way across the basement by memory.
With some luck, there wouldn’t be anyone watching this far away from his building, and they’d be able to sneak across the street into one of the shops. Between the older tenement buildings and the free theater, there was an alleyway where they could slip through to Ninth Avenue. From there it would be safe to duck behind some of the buildings where he could make his way to First Avenue, or bide some time and figure out how to get to safety.
He wasn’t going to involve Nikki any further. And he was no longer sure if he could trust anyone else in his squad. Gunn was the only one who knew he had the girl. Will was aware of the thread of paranoia running through his thoughts, but he couldn’t help it. Someone had given up his location, someone knew the girl was alive and a witness; whoever it was had sold him out. He really didn’t believe it had been Gunn, though the only evidence he had led to that conclusion.
Easing the door open carefully, Will looked up and down the street. No one was hanging around, lurking, so he took that as a good sign. The sky was overcast, with low clouds, which either meant snow or rain. He thought briefly about heading over to the bar to get his bike, but the conditions meant he couldn’t take the chance. Alone, he could manage. With Buffy, who’d likely never been on a motorcycle and being as exhausted as she was, he couldn’t take that chance.
Will ducked into the antique shop run by Mrs. Szilagyi, Buffy still clinging to his back. She’d been quiet, her head resting in the middle of his shoulders, her breathing soft and even. If it wasn’t for the tightening and relaxing of her hands, he’d suspect that she was asleep.
“Hullo, Mrs. S. Mind if we use the back door?” Will leaned down to brush a kiss across her weathered cheek, smiling when the old lady playfully slapped his arm.
In broken English she answered, pushing him to the back. “Go, William. You know the way.”
They were gone in the next moment.
The alleyway, as he suspected, was deserted.
His back was beginning to ache, though he paused only briefly. The phone in his pocket had been vibrating since they’d entered the basement, but he hadn’t cared enough to worry about it. Buffy’s feet were banging against his sides as he picked up the pace. Will didn’t want to stop moving until they were in a cab, heading away from his apartment. Where they were going to be heading was a different matter altogether.
Will had no clue where to go. He didn’t have much cash on him; and tracking his credit cards would be far too easy to someone with the technology. They couldn’t risk going to wherever Buffy had been living. It would be easier to stay somewhere here, downtown, since neither of them would attract much attention, and if they kept moving around, the chances of discovery would be lessened. There was one other place, but he would only use that as a last resort.
He closed his eyes, leaning against the cold brick of the building. Either way, he needed cash. His hold on Buffy loosened, and she started to slip down his back. “Kitten?”
“I’m too heavy,” she whispered against his ear, then let go. “You don’t have to carry me anymore.”
She leaned against his back and he could feel the tremors wracking her body. “Let me worry about what I have to do. You just do as I tell you.”
He turned around to face her. Tears stood out in her eyes, threatening to spill over. Her lower lip trembled, moving Will to pity. He enfolded her in his arms, dropping the duffel bag behind her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, giving in to the tremors coursing through her.
“It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you safe.” Will absently dropped a kiss on the top of her head. His hands wormed beneath her jacket, holding her closer. “I promise.”
The scent of her tears was faint, a bare wisp of salt through the smells of the city just before snowfall, the feel of them stinging his thin shirt. She wobbled again and he eased her back against the building for support. Buffy looked up at him, her nose all red and tears dripping down her cheeks and Will realized he’d never seen a woman look so beautiful and so vulnerable. His left hand brushed away strands of her hair, thumb smoothing over her skin. He knew the second he leaned in to kiss her he shouldn’t; he also knew he had to.
Her lips were soft, tasting of her tears, and her mouth opened easily to his.
He left her there, hidden between two buildings, while he went and removed as much cash as he could from the nearest ATM. Buffy watched him walk away, her lips still stinging from his kiss, the memory of his taste – syrupy sweet yet strong – filling her mind. She’d had a feeling when he’d brought home the clothes and had gone a bit overboard with the food purchases that he’d had some kind of feelings for her. What kind had her guessing and confused, but the kiss. . . that kiss removed any doubt from her mind why he’d done the nice things for her.
She hadn’t been able to detach her mind from it, from him. It wasn’t like any other kiss she’d had before. Nothing like the fumbling kisses she’d shared with the boys back home and definitely nothing like the ones she’d had since she ran away. Demanding, insistent and incredibly sweet, he kissed her like he owned her . . . or wanted to. Like he knew she belonged to him.
Buffy leaned her head against the cool brick, waiting for him to return. She wasn’t normally this passive about things, her independent streak had always been a problem for her. With Spike, though, she didn’t mind him taking control, didn’t mind letting him take care of her. Maybe it was the trauma, the injuries, or maybe she was just so tired of relying on herself. Some days she felt decades older, alone and lonely, lost without anyone she could even call a friend. Her old friends and old life were behind her. Even if she were able to return to Sunnydale, she would be different. Life and circumstances had changed her considerably, made her less trusting, less forgiving.
Until yesterday.
Until she woke up after being beaten and raped.
Until she looked into the eyes of the man who’d rescued her.
Hope was something she was slowly losing her grip on. Without anyone to support her, to listen, to even care if she lived or died, hope was seeping away. In the course of one day, somewhere between opening her eyes and pancakes, her entire life had changed. There was someone now who knew she was still alive, who cared enough to make sure she had breakfast and something warm to wear, and who had . . . kissed her.
Her eyes drifted closed and a soft smile bloomed on her face.
Will had kissed her.
“Hey, there, kitten, don’t fall asleep on me just yet.” His voice was close, rumbling in her ear. Buffy looked up at him and the smile she wore got just a little brighter.
“I’m not sleeping.” She blinked a couple of times, to prove she wasn’t, and all he did was chuckle at her.
“Not doing anything to help your case. That just makes you look like you’re tryin’ not to fall asleep.” Spike grabbed the duffel bag, swinging his free arm around her waist. “Can you walk for a bit?”
“I think so. How far?” She fell into step beside him, trying not to lean too heavily.
He took a right turn onto First Avenue, heading south, and when he didn’t answer she glanced up at him. “Gonna catch a cab, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” Buffy didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t sure where they were going, or what his thoughts were. He hadn’t told her much, just that they had to leave. For the moment, she was okay with not knowing too much, but eventually she was going to demand some answers.
Maybe after she felt better.
It wasn’t much as far as hotel rooms; they were pretty much the same unless you were in some high-end, four-star or better hotel. Buffy didn’t care. She was tired and sore and barely keeping her eyes open when they got out of the cab. The ride, though a fairly short one, was enough for her to let down her guard and relax.
Will hustled her through the hallways, aware he was pushing her. He was so proud of her, despite the shuffling feet, drooping shoulders, and exhausted air.
Once inside the room, Buffy sank down on the bed, every inch of her throbbing in pain. She tried twice to lean over and undo the laces on her boots, and both times the broken ribs screamed in protest, preventing her from doing so. Instead, she just leaned over and laid down, her head on one of the pillows as tears once more leaked from her eyes.
More than half asleep in moments, Buffy barely registered Spike removing her boots. It was only when he tried to wrestle her out of the coat and big sweater that she tried helping him, grumbling at him when he batted her hands away. “C’mon, baby, let me do most of it.”
Will easily got her tucked into the bed, and she promptly lapsed into sleep. She was completely unaware when her savior stripped off his own coat and boots and climbed in beside her, his body curled around hers as he finally allowed himself to rest.