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Thank you for reading this and reviewing.
Luv, Spuf
Chapter 47: ‘Life’s Blood’


A/N: Well, this is the end, folks, kind of anyway. I had this ending well plotted out for ages, just had to write it down. I must admit, I had another ending planned for a long time, at least over a year or so, but revamped (!) it and wrote it this way. This is a long chapter, but I have to have it this way. Thanks for reading! Luv, Spuf


Buffy was dying, Spike realized that. He was covered in his lover’s blood as it flowed from the wound that her insane monster of a husband, Angel, had inflicted on her perfect, golden flesh.

Spike wanted to fling himself at Angel, tear his fucking head off, but he just could not let Buffy go. He couldn’t leave her on the plush carpet of Angel’s law firm, alone, bleeding to death.

Somewhere, far away, he heard the little law clerk, Andrew, say something like “I’ve called an ambulance” but Spike was not listening to anyone right now. He was too enraged at Angel.

With a feral growl, Spike glared up at his hated nemesis, Angel Travers. He still held the instrument of destruction. The thing that had torn the upper right side of Buffy’s lovely shoulder off.

Buffy’s blood, the life’s blood that now drenched her body and Spike’s, was dark and thick.

‘Death’s blood, really,’ Spike thought bitterly, ‘it’s not bright or red, it’s dark and black. The blood of death; not life.’

Angel was glaring at Spike, blaming him for the bullet that had taken Buffy from them all.

‘He still loves her,’ Spike realized, ‘he loves her, but he’ll never have her again, one way or the other. I’ll see to it!’

“Get your fucking hands off of my wife,” Angel roared as he stepped nearer to Spike, leveling the Magnum at the bereaved man’s head.

“Fuck you,” Spike said calmly, surprising even him. Spike heard and saw Angel cock the trigger of the Magnum, saw the hatred and insanity that burned in Travers' eyes.

“See you in hell, Spikey,” Angel chuckled as he aimed the gun right between Spike’s eyes and grinned like an insane Cheshire Cat. Right then, Spike heard the front door of the law firm’s office fly open as the Sunnydale Police, led by Riley Finn himself burst into the office.

“Drop the gun, Angel,” Riley ordered harshly.

“Fuck off!” Angel shouted in defiance.

Spike braced himself for the inevitable. Heard the gun shot and never even flinched as he watched Angel fall to the ground.

For the few moments that lapsed between the time Angel was shot and the ambulance came for Buffy, Spike lost track of everything. His mind was too enveloped in trying to wake his lover up. Trying, desperately, keep her with him.

Later, when everything was calmer and clearer, there would still be surprises and unanswered questions. Later, no one would be able to say just who in that office, that day, was more shocked by what happened.

Angel certainly looked the most stunned as he lay, shot by someone he thought was his best friend. Anya and Andrew, the couple who clung to each other for dear life and had the presence of mind to call the police. Then call the paramedics? They were frozen in horror.

Spike, who was so caught up in his Buffy’s last few minutes on Earth that he could not even digest the fact that Riley Finn had shot Angel and saved him.

Or, maybe it was a shocked Riley. Who had shot his best friend down? Who never hesitated when Angel had defiantly brandished the gun at Spike and the rest of them?

Spike was vaguely aware of the paramedics as they swept into the office, rolling their little gurney into the large area. The stretcher they brought was small, didn’t have to be large, Buffy was such a tiny little thing.

“But so strong,” Spike sobbed into her golden hair. “You have to be strong, baby,” he murmured.

“You have to be strong and survive,” Spike continued his chant, through his sobs.

He heard Riley saying something to the paramedics, “this man, his name is Spike Giles. He’s the lady’s fiancé. I’d appreciate it if you guys would let him ride in the ambulance with her.”

Spike looked up at Riley with gratitude, “who thought you’d turn out to be a good guy, mate,” he whispered at the tall dark haired man. Then Spike buried his face back into Buffy’s neck and wept openly.

Once they had arrived at Sunnydale Memorial Hospital, Spike, poor Buffy and the paramedics? The emergency room doctors took over. They wheeled Buffy away from Spike, to the operating room, leaving him alone in the waiting room. Where he would wait, forever, if he had to and pray, even.

Spike had taken the time to call Willow and Tara, but only after he called Joyce Summers first. She, Buffy’s Mum, was already on her way down from Santa Barbara to be with her baby girl and Spike.

“She’ll be okay,” Joyce had said just before she had hung up the cell phone, “my baby girl, she’s a tough one. Tell her I’m on my way Spike, please.”

Spike sat on a very lumpy, uncomfortable chair in the ER waiting lounge, ignoring the ‘no smoking’ signs, as usual. He’d be damned if he wouldn’t smoke while he waited for news from the operating doctors about his Buffy.

‘This guy better be the God of all fucking Surgeons,’ he rasped as he took another quick drag on his cigarette. For some reason, the hospital staff seemed to overlook the platinum blonde’s overt breaking of California laws. They allowed him to chain smoke while he waited for news of his loved one.

Finally, Spike just dropped his head into his hands and began to sob quietly again, not caring who heard him.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, “I’m such a fuck up, but she’s not. You listening up there?” he glared up at the ceiling. “I know I’m a stupid worthless piece of shit in the grand scheme of things, but Buffy? Okay, she’s not perfect, I get that, no one is. But, good Christ, (sorry), she’s all I’ve really got in this world. My light; the ying for my yang; my bloody soul mate. So please, whoever, whatever and why ever that is up there? Just let her live. I’ll be good, I swear to God, I’ll be a bloody Saint if you just let her live.”



Spike was in the middle of his redemptive monologue when he felt the presence of another person sit down beside him in the waiting room.

“Spike,” Riley Finn’s deep voice interrupted his conversation with the Powers that Be, “how’s Buffy?”

The blonde man looked up to see the man he’d called Captain Cardboard for so many years staring sympathetically at him. With a shrug of his shoulders and a shake of his head, Spike answered Riley, ‘don’t know.’

“Spike,” Riley began again cautiously, “I shot Angel. He’s dead, Spike.” Riley almost sounded, well relieved.

Spike snorted and mumbled, “I could give a flying fuck about Angel.”

Riley nodded slowly, numbly, “yeah, I know. But, I needed to tell you that. That and this, too. I’m pretty sure that I know who had all that information sent to us. About Angel and Xander Harris, the good Councilman Wesley Rhys-Smith and a scum bag named Doyle leaked to my department. It was you, wasn’t it?”

Spike, again, just shrugged, but to himself he thought, “Stupid, fucking plan. What good did it do? If Buffy dies, I could care less if I live, die, rot in jail even.”

“Spike,” Riley began softly, really softly for the usual brash tone Finn used, “I want you to know something, okay?”

Spike didn’t even look at him, just hung his head and nodded.

“I kind of tampered with the files you sent. Did a little editing, touching up on some of the information. Can’t see how hurting people who just wanted justice in the world would help anyone, especially the good people of Sunnydale. In other words, Spike, I erased some of the computer files that I was E-mailed. The ones that contained certain events and even some names of people. Things that have no real bearing on the crap that Angel was perpetrating in this town.”

Spike actually laughed, inanely, “what the fuck difference does it make, mate?” he asked, raising his left, scarred eyebrow at Finn.

“If Buffy…..” Riley shook his dark head and actually patted Spike on the back, “if Buffy makes it, I’d…”

Riley cringed, as Spike shot him a murderous look.

“Okay, man,” Riley altered his words, “when Buffy makes it, gets better? Take her away from here. Get her out of this fucking town, away from all this crap and bad memories. I know, man,” Riley sounded remorseful; Spike had to give him that. “I’m part of Buffy’s bleak past, but just do this Spike. Go back to England, start over, you and Buffy. Oh, maybe it’s just me trying to find some redemption for myself, I don’t even know. I let Angel get way out of control here. What happened when we were kids? Later. But, I really, really want Buffy to be happy and you too.”

Spike was stunned; Riley Finn was turning out to be more of a man then a lot of blokes he knew. Before he could answer the Police Captain, the doctor who had operated on Buffy was standing before both of them, grim faced.

“I am Doctor Wilkens,” the man in the blood spattered medical scrubs stated, wearily, “are you Miss Summer’s fiancé?” he asked Spike.

“Yes,” Spike stated, firmly, as he stood up.

“Well,” Dr. Wilkens started carefully, “I can’t promise that your fiancé hasn’t had her life shortened by a year or two, maybe three, but I can promise that she’s going to make it through this. She’s a tough little thing, for such a tiny girl. Lost a lot of blood, but, it looks good.”

Spike watched in relief as this stranger, the one in the blue and red soaked gown told her his life, his love, was going to live. Before the man finished his prognosis, Spike was running down the hall to the private ICU where his Buffy was recovering. When the nurse on the inside asked, "who are you?"

Spike gasped loudly, “Buffy Summers fiancé, Spike Giles.” The cooperative nurse pushed the button that allowed Spike into the unit and access to his future wife.

When he saw her, swathed in bandages, groggy from pain killers and all kinds of drugs, Spike tried not to cry in pain. Her whole right shoulder and side was covered in bandages, gauze and wraps, but it didn’t matter. Buffy was still beautiful to him.

“Buffy,” he whispered, barely expecting her to be awake for him, but delighted when he saw her open her emerald green eyes and smile weakly at him.

“Hey,” she whispered weakly, “how’s my guy?”

Spike practically fell forward on his knees, so relieved that Buffy was alive. She was going to be all right and was awake to see him now. “I’m bloody great,” he grinned, trying not to let her see his tears, “but I’m more concerned about you, Princess.”

Buffy smiled again and tried to reach out her left hand to him. Spike hurried over to the bed she lay in and took the tiny hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss softly.

“I love you baby,” he whispered.

Buffy smiled bravely, “love you too, baby,” she rasped.

“Can I get in there with you?” Spike asked shyly, “can I lay next to you, sweetheart?”

She grinned, best as she could through the drugs and pain and nodded her head. Spike climbed cautiously up into Buffy’s bed, careful not to knock into the tubes and IV’s that were attached to her. He snuggled up into her, again, careful not to disturb her life lines.

“I love you Buffy,” he murmured, nuzzling his mouth into Buffy’s cheek, watching in amazement as she half-closed her golden lashes and smiled for him.

“You too,” she mouthed silently, unable to form the words vocally.

“Buffy,” Spike looked at her, his face serious, “this is how it’s going to be. You and me, we’re going to go far away from this lousy town, this hell hole. Taking you to England, going to’ have a place of our own, a bunch of brat kids, help me Mum take care of Guinevere and Drusilla. Never leave each other again, right, Princess? If that’s okay with you, baby,” he asked as he kissed the end of her funny little nose tenderly.

“Yeah,” she whispered sleepily, “its okay, but can I sleep a bit now, Will?”

Spike nodded as tiny tears of happiness trickled from his eyes, “you sleep Princess,” he murmured. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”



A/N: That’s all folks! Okay, it’s not all. I’m going to give you an epilogue, soon. Now, I hope I gave you guys, me and the rest of the Spuffy World a good ending to my saga. Please, read, review if you choose and I will accept any verdicts you guys give me! I love you all! Thanks, Luv, Spuf





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