[Reviews - 617]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 7126 times

- Text Size +




[A/N: Since one of my pet peeves about the show was about not having a qualified “mystic” on hand, I will be using my knowledge about that stuff – and giving the two wiccans a bit more power. I also hated what the writers did to Tara, making her a weak character, when her potential was so much more. And Giles too, because anyone that can conjure up a demon as a youth has a bit more magic in them than they show indicated. Anyway, if there are questions about some of the mythical beasts, I”ll be happy to answer them. Title is from Oliver Goldsmith, but I swear its ageless and timeless and quotes as attributed, disclaimers in full force and effect.]

Previously: Buffy gave Spike his crumbs and the scoobies, minus Buffy have gone out to find the nasty that’s been plaguing Sunnydale.

25. Live to fight another day.

He lives not long who battles with the immortals.
Homer, the Iliad, bk vi, 407

We fight, get beat, rise and fight again.
Nathanael Greene, US Revolutionary General

There is an ancient saying, which is a true one –
“To fight against two opponents is a difficult thing.”
Plato, Protagoras


He’d certainly seen worse injuries in his time, some of them inflicted upon the vampire, no, man, laying on the ground before him. That wasn’t to say that the beating he’d taken tonight wasn’t a bad one. Giles leaned down, wincing a bit. The Buffybot stood silent at his side, waiting for his next set of instructions. Spike’s left side had a few bites, but his right side had taken the brunt of his beating.

Rolling over the unconscious form of Spike, Giles winced again. Spike’s hand was mangled, beyond repair if he was merely human, and there were several chunks missing from his legs. Both arms sported bite marks and there was a huge welt across his forehead. Spike groaned as Rupert nudged him.

That was a good sign. “All right, Spike, wake up.”

He and the Buffybot had arrived on the scene just as one of the dogs closed its jaws around Spike’s leg, bringing him down. Directing the bot to start fighting, Rupert has muttered a quick protection spell, then waded into the fight. His priority was getting Spike away from the dogs, then, and only then, getting out of Restfield.

The two of them had fought off the dogs for a few minutes, unable to reach Spike, when first one, then all of the dogs broke off the attack, their attention drawn elsewhere. Acting quickly, lest their attention shift again, Giles gripped Spike by his closest appendage and pulled him from underneath the slobbering jaws.

As one, the dogs had howled then ran from the scene.

Tara had emerged from the shadows then, Xander and Anya behind her. “Is he okay?”

“He’s out, but he will recover.” Trying again to wake him, Giles slapped his fellow Englishman a bit too hard. It did, however, wake him up, though it was a bit too much.

“Tryin to kill me again?” snarled the younger man. “Sweet Jesus that hurts.”

Rubbing his face, Spike tried to get up, but Giles held him down. “Let me help.”

Bracing himself on Spike’s good side, Giles half lifted him up. Spike’s litany of curses filled the air, making both Xander and Tara blush.

“What the bloody hell happened?” He asked, while they waited so he could get his feet under him.

“Something or someone called the dogs off.” Giles was at a loss because he’d been certain they would’ve finished off Spike otherwise.

“Get a clear look at them?” Spike shifted his weight onto his injured right leg, then faltered when it gave out.

“Yes I did. Rather larger for just dogs, wouldn’t you say?” Steadying Spike, Giles continued, “in fact, I would venture a guess and call them hounds rather than dogs.”

Spike snorted a half-laugh at his tone, “oh right, and the Baskerville pooch didn’t give it away at all now Rupert.”

“Baskerville? You know these dogs?” Xander’s voice rang through the night air.

“No Xander. He means the hound of the Baskervilles. A demon hound that haunts the moors of northern England.” Anya’s answer was laced with sarcasm, almost as if questioning why he didn’t know this. “It’s a bit far from home, don’t you think?”

Anya directed this question at the struggling pair of Englishmen, who, while they didn’t verbally answer, both shook their heads in agreement.

“Lets get Spike back to the Magic Box, then we’ll discuss our canine friends.” Giles gestured everyone to move along, practically dragging Spike along with him.


******************************* ******************************************

It was official. She still hated research. One thing that hadn’t changed at all. Dawn, however, was a different story. Her sister was immersed in a book, so focused on what she was reading she never noticed Buffy’s distraction.

They’d locked the doors at eight thirty, closing up the shop for the night, and now, at nine, Buffy was bored. Really really bored. Like getting up and finding anything else to do bored. Anything else.

Muttering a “I’ll be right back Dawnie” which was completely ignored, Buffy got up and wandered around for a bit.

Her feet carried her to the back room and she stood in the doorway staring at the tools of her trade. The last time she’d been in this room, she and Giles had well, not exactly fought, but their words were harsh nonetheless.

Walking into the room fully, Buffy had the weirdest feeling of deja vu. She’d stayed back from a fight, letting others go out and battle for her. That wasn’t right. She should be the one out there looking for answers, patrolling, not the scoobies – and certainly not Spike.

So why was she still here, safe inside these walls?

Because as much as she knew she should be the one out there, Buffy also knew she really wasn’t ready. Her mind wasn’t ready for the constant battling to fight the good fight and just maybe her body wasn’t ready either. For sure her soul wasn’t.

One of the last things she’d said to Giles crossed her mind. “If Dawn dies, I’m done with it. I’m quitting.” But it wasn’t Dawn that died, it was herself.

Could she do it? Could she just walk away from it all? Stop being the slayer – stop being the strong one? Could she?

The weight of the world was still on her shoulders, she was the only one capable . . . no, that wasn’t true, at least not any more.

Someone else had picked up the slack in her absence, someone had done her job, in her name, while she’d been gone. The really weird part of that, aside from his willingness to do so, was that it was Spike, the vampire, who was doing her job.

And tonight, folks, the part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is going to be played by William the Bloody, former Slayer of Slayers.

Irony much?

Without much conscious thought, Buffy began to tape up her hands, loosening up her muscles in preparation for a work-out. Not only hadn’t he left, that damned vampire had fought the good fight for months, for her memory.

Oh yeah, he deserved cookies, not just crumbs.

Swinging her fist, the first connection with the punching bag went right through her, but the second was easier, the third moreso. By the time she’d hit her rhythm, Buffy wasn’t thinking at all anymore, just moving.

Even if her mind and soul didn’t remember and mostly wanted to forget, her body knew this, found comfort in the physical release.

So lost in the sensations, Buffy didn’t hear the bell at the front of the shop when the door flew open, but Dawn’s shriek caught her attention.

******************************* ***************************************

By the time they got to the Magic Shop, Spike was wishing the pain was enough to make him pass out, but unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky. The upside was, the bleeding had mostly stopped, and slow healing had started, but he needed blood, otherwise he wasn’t going to heal anytime soon. Needed human blood too, and someone was going to have to set his hand and soon, because he could feel the bones setting.

“Watcher” he spoke quietly as they neared the front door, “need to set m’hand first.”

Looking down at the currently useless hand dangling at his side, Giles nodded his head. “Right, let’s get inside and I’ll see to it.”

Gesturing the others to hold open the door, they gingerly maneuvered through the door. Dawn looked up, seeing everyone file in, took one look at Spike and shrieked.

“Niblet, ‘m fine.” Spike grimaced as they eased him down into one of the chairs, wincing even more as he put his hand up on the table. Dawn covered her mouth, unable to look away, while the others just stared. His hand was nearly severed from his wrist, the bones of three of his fingers mangled, and his thumb was also nearly torn off. “Need blood. There any here?”

Giles shook his head, motioning to Xander, “go to the hospital, see if you can liberate some from the bloodbank, if not get to the butcher’s immediately.”

The boy started to object, but Anya’s shaking head stopped him. “C’mon Xander. We’ll be right back.”

Buffy had come at a rush from the training room, hearing Dawn’s shriek, tearing the tape from her fingers. “What happened?”

Answering her over his shoulder, Giles said “we ran into the beasts Spike has been tracking. They managed to get him down and he’s lost some blood.” As Buffy came to his side, he continued, “and we need to set his hand as well.”

Her indrawn breath was deep, catching Spike’s attention. The look on her face was, to him, indescribable. Anger, fear and a hundred other things played across her features, but the one that warmed his heart was the concern in her eyes for him.

“That doesn’t look good. Can we do it here or should we bring him to the hospital?” The two men shared a look. If Buffy was suggesting a hospital visit, it had to be pretty bad. Normally someone had to be more than half dead for her to even think of it.

“No, hospital wouldn’t help. Probably mistake me for a dead man, wouldn’t bother setting it’ was Spike’s pragmatic response. “Better we do it right here.”

Tara’s voice popped up “I think I can help. As long as his fingers are in the right place, I can try.”

“Might as well do it.” Spike would rather get this over and done with, since the pain wasn’t getting any easier to deal with.

“Right. Buffy, you’re going to have to hold him down while I set these fingers. Tara, let me know as soon as you are ready.” Sharing a look with Spike, Giles motioned to Dawn, then raised his eyebrow.

“Dawnie, why don’t you go catch up with Xander and Anya.” Buffy spoke before either of the other two could think of something for the teen to do. Each of them had their own reasons for not wanting her to witness what was about to happen. She started to balk, then when Spike just raised a brow in her direction, Dawn relented and raced out the door.

Tara was bustling about, gathering herbs and a few bandages that they kept in case of emergencies, and glancing once at the grimacing vampire, she grabbed the bottle of Drambuie that Giles kept in his small office. They didn’t have anything stronger, well they did, but Spike would have to swallow down the herbs, and there was no telling if they would even work on a vampire, so the scotch was the surer bet. Handing the nearly full bottle to him, Tara said firmly, “drink.”

Though it wasn’t his best stash, it was still the good stuff, but Giles merely raised an eyebrow at the girl. Her only response was “it’s the quickest and safest for him right now.”

Her hand unconsciously running up and down his lesser injured arm, Buffy waited with Giles while Spike downed the scotch. Didn’t take very long before he was feeling the effects, since he had lost some blood, and once his eyes closed for longer than a moment, Giles nodded to the two girls.

Eyeing him, Buffy decided the easiest way to control his movements would be to sit on his lap, facing him, with her arms wrapped around him and the back of the chair. This way, if he did go into game face and jump up, she’d be able to hold him down. Straddling him, hooking her ankles behind him, Buffy looked down to his face. The pain he was trying to hide was etched across his features and she knew it had to be bad because he never even commented on her position.

Taking his hand, Giles worked rapidly to push the fingers into the correct positions. Spike jumped with the first, then roared his pain into Buffy’s shoulder. When Giles paused, he ground out against her, “just do it.”

He struggled against her grip, fighting to get free from the pain at the end of his arm, but she held on tighter, whispering words into his ear, trying to get him to focus on something else, but it wasn’t working. Spike growled, roared and bucked against her hold. Buffy nearly fell off his lap, when Giles moved his ring finger into position. She was shaking from the effort of holding him still, her muscles contracting and tightening each time he flinched away from the pain. Tara laid a hand on his shoulder, calming him a little, but when Giles tried setting his middle finger, Spike vamped and snapped at her hand. Not moving it away, she sent soothing energies into him, murmuring softly in counterpoint to Buffy’s mumblings.

The two girls tried surrounding him, but he continued to buck against them both. Buffy held on, his face now tucked hard against her neck. His middle finger was the worst, broken in at least three spots, and twisted nearly around, the nail facing his palm, and Giles was having a hell of a time trying to get it straight. He moved the finger, Spike roared and vamped, his fangs clamping down on Buffy’s shoulder, through her shirt, drawing blood. No one spoke, and Buffy just held him closer.

Drawing her closer, Spike knew only two things, pain and her, in his arms, her blood sliding down his throat. He growled, this time possessively, his free arm coming round to hold her to him. Spike stopped bucking against her, instead quieting, her blood doing more to calm him than anything. Tara rubbed her hand down his back, murmuring a sleep spell under her breath.

His fangs still embedded in her upper shoulder, Buffy clutched him tighter, her hands tensing around his upper arms. She’d almost expected this to happen and wasn’t at all surprised when it did. He was in enormous pain and hadn’t passed out, not even when Giles had to twist his fingers back to where they were supposed to be. She didn’t care that he’d bit her.

She didn’t care that he’d bit her. Buffy nearly let him go in that moment, when it struck her what she’d allowed him to do.





You must login (register) to review.