Fluffy Killed By Death

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E-mail Hilary

by Nebula

Note: This is a response to Challenge 43

Buffy sighed and leaned back against the pillows. She hated hospitals with a passion. Now she was stuck in one because of a flu. A tiny, little flu bug had brought the Slayer to her knees. It was ridiculous.

She shuddered as she suddenly thought of Angel’s face. He would have killed her if her friends hadn’t been there. Xander had offered to stay and watch for Angel, should he show up, and she had agreed. There was no way she could take him on in her current state.

She was shaking from the fever, and she felt dizzy and nauseous. Everything hurt, and she just wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep was evading her, and she was forced to lie awake with the pain.

A noise at the door caused her to turn around. She blinked with surprise at the shadow in the doorway. “What are you doing here, Spike?” she whispered, wishing she had a stake.

“Here to protect you, pet.” She’d never noticed how blue his eyes were before. She was always trying to kill him, and never really took the time to look. Wait a minute. Had he just said…

“What do you mean?”

“Somethin’ nasty here. Takes the kids away, one by one.”

“Then why would it want me?”

“Because you’re here to protect them, keep the kids safe. It wants to kill you ‘specially, ‘cause you’re the Slayer.”

She was about to reply when she noticed a dark, towering figure behind him. She gasped as the figure reached its long-nailed fingers towards Spike’s neck. “Spike! Spike, behind you!”

Before he could turn around, however, the long nails flew through the air. There was a sickening sound as Spike gasped in pain. “Buffy,” he whispered, before his head fell from his shoulders. He was dust before his body touched the ground.

“NO!!” Buffy screamed. “SPIKE!!”

The dark figure grinned devilishly and started towards her. Buffy tried to sit up, and her eyes widened in horror as she realized she was strapped to the bed. The figure stopped at her bedside as she thrashed frantically on the hospital bed, trying to free herself.

The figure straightened his black hat and his matching suit, before pulling his hand back, ready to slice her chest open…

Buffy gasped and sat forward, ignoring the pain in her head as she did so. It had just been a dream. Then why was she feeling so much grief at Spike’s ‘death’? It had just been a dream, and please, Spike? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get rid of the terrible hurt that had accompanied his demise.

< --- >

Spike rolled his eyes as he watched Angelus kissing Drusilla passionately. He was going to go crazy if he had to stay here and watch the two grope anymore.

Luckily, Angelus had other things on his mind. He pulled away from Dru and smiled at her. “I’ve got good news to share,” he said, shifting his gaze from Dru to Spike. “The Slayer’s sick with the flu that’s been running around, and the last time I saw her, she was heading for the hospital. You know what that means, boys!”

“Yeah,” one of the minions said. “Easy pickings.”

Angelus nodded. “And,” he said, with a smirk, “That includes the Slayer herself.”

The minions smiled with adoration for their leader. He was smart, this one. Their pride in Angelus was enough to make Spike gag.

Then he frowned. “The Slayer?” Spike asked, doubt evident in his voice.

“The Slayer’s covered in nasty bugs, crawling, crawling everywhere,” Drusilla said, swaying back and forth. “And the dark one sings as the children lie down, my sweet Angel.”

“Yeah, baby, the Slayer’s easy pickings. Let me kill her now, and when I come back, we’ll have some fun.”

Spike was about to comment on how pathetic a job he thought Angelus would do of it, but was cut off by Drusilla. “Ooh, Slayer’s so selfish. Can’t I have a little bit before you run off to put the Slayer in the ground?”

Angelus caught Spike’s eye and suddenly grinned. “I think I can arrange that, seeing as the only thing that Spike’s offering you is a good spin in the chair. I can take you a lot further, baby. I’ll be out soon boys, so don’t you get any foolhardy notions to go running in and attacking the Slayer. She’s mine to kill.”

Spike turned the other way as Angelus and Drusilla kissed again. He could hear them moving into the bedroom, but refused to let the tears fall until the door had been shut for a few minutes. He wheeled himself into his room, which he had shared with Dru for awhile, and slammed the door behind him.

Satisfied that no one could see him, he grasped the wheelchair arms and pushed himself up. He could walk now, but wasn’t up to full strength yet. He wanted to walk into the room and push Angelus out of the way, and tell Dru that only he loved her; Angelus was just messing around with her. He wasn’t stupid, though. Angelus probably had a few splinters of wood lying around, and if Spike ‘accidentally’ fell on one, well, no one would mourn his passing.

He began to pace the room, wondering how he could seriously annoy Angelus. Whatever plan he had, though, would have to wait until after Angelus finished with the Slayer. Spike hoped that she’d stake Angelus, and rid Spike of his problem.

The Slayer. Now that was an idea. If Spike got to her first, before Angelus did, wouldn’t he be in a terrible rage? Plus, Spike had been dying to wrap his hands around Buffy’s throat ever since she’d dropped the organ on him.

With a grin he grabbed his duster and quietly slipped out of the warehouse. He had a Slayer to visit.

< --- >

When he got to the hospital, he had no trouble locating her. One of her friends was situated outside her door, fast asleep. He refrained from killing the boy and headed into the dark room.

He slipped into his vampiric visage to see better, and was stunned at what he saw.

Buffy lay on a hospital bed, possibly paler than Spike. She was shaking, and her forehead was soaked with perspiration. Cuts and bruises marred her skin, and she looked…Spike couldn’t put his finger on it.

Buffy frowned and looked up, not really that surprised. She was beyond the point of caring anymore. “Hi, Spike,” she said, trying to sit up without much success.

It was then that Spike figured out what was wrong with her. She looked tired, exhausted, weak. For some reason, seeing her like this bothered him more than he liked. “Hello, pet,” he answered, a little surprised that she seemed okay with him being there. Probably because she was sick.

Buffy cringed as she almost managed to sit up. One more push would do it…she was glad he couldn’t see her cheeks burning with embarrassment at her current state. “So, what are you doing here? Come to finish me off?” she asked, trying to blink away the sudden dizziness. She closed her eyes, as she began to fall towards the floor.

With lightning speed Spike grabbed her and helped her back into bed as gently as he could. “Keep it up, and you’ll be finishing yourself off,” Spike said.

Buffy nodded, then stopped, turning to look at him. “What are you doing?” she asked with a frown on her face.

Spike blinked, searching for an answer. “Came to warn you,” he blurted out, wondering what he was getting into.

“Warn me about what?”

“Angelus. Decided he’d come and finish you off while you were stuck here.”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Okay, one: why are you telling me this, and two: why aren’t YOU finishing me off?” Buffy paused, then stared at him. “And you’re walking.”

“One: this’ll piss Angelus off to the highest degree; two: because I want a decent fight with you, not an unfair one; and I’ve got vampire healin’, so that’s helped with my legs.” Spike was, for some reason, oddly pleased with the fact that she had noticed his new mobility.

“Well, at any rate…thank you,” Buffy said, leaning back into the pillows. She was still wondering why Spike was being so nice, but figured that even if he told her now, she wouldn’t remember. She was just too tired.

Spike frowned and looked down at her. She looked terrible. “How’d this happen, pet?” he asked.

She closed her eyes and sighed. “I have absolutely no idea. All I know is that I was patrolling, Angel attacked me and almost bit me. My friends realized I was sick, so they brought me here.” She shuddered.

“Not one of your favorite joints, I’d warrant.”

“Just…a lot of bad memories tied in with hospitals. That’s all.”

Why am I even telling him all of this? Why does he care? He’ll probably bite me as soon as he gets the chance, she thought to herself. Still, it was nice to have someone to talk to, especially when she couldn’t sleep.

Spike suddenly started heading for the door. “Should let you rest, I s’pose,” he said.

Buffy chuckled softly. “I can’t sleep. Too much pain to even consider it.”

Spike stopped and looked back at her. Even through her unnaturally pale face and obviously sick features, she was still beautiful. Her golden hair glinted like the sun, catching what little particles of light it could and making her shine like a golden goddess…Spike shook himself. Now he was thinking in poetry, and about the Slayer?! He’d done his job, which would annoy Angelus to no end, so he was free to head back to the factory. He made no move towards the door, however.

Wondering what he was getting himself into, he sat down in a nearby chair and watched her face scrunch up in pain. Hesitantly, he reached out and gently laid his hand on her forehead. She visibly relaxed, and Spike couldn’t believe how warm she was. His hand felt like it was exposed to sunlight. It seemed to be giving her relief, though, so he left his hand on her forehead.

He was slightly aware of the lights in the hall turning down, and a nurse outside of Buffy’s room waking the boy, telling him to go home. She thankfully didn’t come into the room, so Spike stayed where he was.

He gazed down at the ‘golden goddess’ and smiled. She was asleep.

Suddenly he felt a chill run down his spine. Buffy gasped and sat up, wincing in pain as she did so.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Shhh,” he said, putting a finger to his lips. “Somethin’s up. Stay put, and I’ll scope it out.”

Buffy merely nodded, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Spike couldn’t hold back a small smile. She was so strong, so mature all the time, but right then and there she reminded Spike of a child. She just seemed so trusting and vulnerable. She was also just too adorable for anyone to resist.

Shaking the thoughts away, he turned his attention to the door. He peered out through the glass and frowned. Nothing.

“Nothin’ out there, ducks,” he whispered. “Don’t know what’s goin’ on.”

“I know what it is,” Buffy said, yawning. “At least, I have a vague idea of what it is. It’s a dark figure that comes for the children.”

“Does he also have a black suit?” Spike asked suddenly.

“Yeah, why?”

“’Cause he’s comin’ our way.”

Buffy gulped and looked around the room. Great, there was nothing she could use to fight this thing with. Not like she actually could fight it in the state she was in.

“Get down,” Spike hissed, hurrying to her side. She quickly did as she was told, and clenched her fists as he threw a blanket over her, shielding her from view. As soon as she was hidden, he ducked behind the opposite side of her bed, and waited.

He heard her sharp intake of breath just as he felt the same chills run down his spine again. The thing had to be outside their door.

After a few minutes, the chills disappeared, and Spike cautiously looked over her bed. The figure was gone.

He pulled the blanket back and was almost injected with a small needle. He jumped backwards, his hands held up in defense. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy, pet,” he said as Buffy put the needle next to her bed.

“Sorry,” she whispered apologetically. “I thought you were…it.”

“Where’d you get the needle from? Could’ve used it, ya know.”

Buffy turned the other way, slightly embarrassed. “My hand,” she muttered under her breath.

“Ah. Well, think the nasty’s gone now, and I should be headin’ back before sunrise and all,” Spike said, not making any attempt to head towards the door.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Silence descended. Spike cleared his throat. “’Course, if the thing comes back and kills you, Angelus’ll be happy, so maybe I should stay.”

Buffy nodded a little too eagerly. “Good idea.”

Spike took his seat next to her again, and watched her close her eyes. Within minutes, he joined her in a dreamless slumber.

< --- >

Spike awoke, sensing someone standing over him. He opened his eyes, and found himself face to face with a very angry watcher.

With a yelp Spike jumped backwards and away from the stake. “Wait, lemme explain,” he started, but never finished.

Giles started forward, stake in hand, but Buffy’s small moan caused him to turn his attention back to his Slayer. “Are you all right?” Giles asked, as Willow, Xander, Cordelia, and Oz walked into the room. At the sight of Spike, they all hurriedly backed away from the vamp.

Buffy nodded, her eyes widening at the sight of the stake. Giles noticed and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with Spike for you.” He turned back towards Spike.

“Wait, Giles, don’t! He saved my life last night,” Buffy said, sitting up. After having slept the previous night, her Slayer healing powers were kicking in. She was feeling stronger already.

Spike raised his eyebrows at her exaggeration. She was helping him? Why?

Willow frowned. “What do you mean? And from what?”

“Nasty black thing; gave us both the chills,” Spike offered.

Buffy nodded. “I had a dream that it was coming after the children in the hospital.” No need to tell them Spike was in the dream as well, she thought. “Giles, if you could get me a mug shot…?”

“Yes, of course, we’ll get right on it,” Giles said absently, still glaring at Spike.

“I can hack into the hospital records and see if something weird’s been going on,” Willow said.

“Thanks Will. I’d appreciate it.”

“But otherwise then creepy dark things and…more creepy dark things,” Xander started, giving Spike a pointed glare.

“Hey!” Spike said, pouting slightly.

“…You’re okay, right, Buff?” Xander asked, ignoring Spike.

Buffy grinned at Spike’s indignant look. “I’m going to be fine, Xander. Thanks.”

“Good, can I go now?” Cordelia asked, looking down at her fingernails.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yes, you can go. I know you all have things to do. Tell my Mom that I’m doing better, okay?”

Willow nodded. “Will do. Take care, Buffy,” she said, heading out the door.

Xander, Cordelia, and Oz followed suit, leaving Buffy, Spike, and Giles in the room. Giles frowned at Spike. “What on earth is he here for, Buffy?”

“Came to warn her ‘bout Angelus. Seems he’s got it in his head to take the Slayer out while she’s down,” Spike said, crossing his arms over his chest.

If possible, Giles’ frown deepened. “Why exactly did you come to tell her?”

“’Cause it would piss Angelus off to no end,” Spike said, smirking.

Giles rolled his eyes, then turned to Buffy. “Will you be all right?” he asked, worried.

Buffy nodded. “Relax, I’ll be fine. Back to slaying by tomorrow night.”

“If you’re sure. I’ll try to get your ‘figure’ as soon as possible,” Giles said, handing her the stake. “Use if necessary,” he said, to which Spike rolled his eyes.

Buffy nodded, trying not to giggle. With one last glare in Spike’s direction, Giles left.

Spike turned to Buffy, a curious look on his face. “Why’d you protect me?”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because you were helping me out last night. I don’t think I could’ve fallen asleep if you hadn’t cooled my fever down. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Spike said, feeling a little awkward. He’d just gotten thanks from the Slayer. Could un-life get any odder?

Buffy must have realized this too, because she began to shift uncomfortably. “You going to head back to the factory now?” she asked.

Spike thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “Nah, this is more interestin’. Plus, I get to hit somethin’, if we find the brute. Can’t hit Angelus; Dru’d kill me.”

“Dru? You mean Drusilla? Why would she hurt you? I thought she loved you.”

Spike snorted. “Yeah, well, so did I, pet. Guess I’m not ‘man’ enough for her,” he said bitterly.

It took a few seconds for what Spike was saying to sink in. “Drusilla and Angel?” Buffy asked, looking like she was about to be sick.

“It’s Angelus, ducks. Get used to it. And trust me, I’d rather have soulful Angel at your side and Dru at mine then this way.”

Buffy nodded sadly. “Me too,” she whispered.

Spike shook himself and took his seat next to Buffy. “So, how long ‘till your friends get back?”

“I have no clue. At least an hour or two. We could be waiting here awhile.”

Spike frowned, then headed for the door. “Where are you going?” Buffy asked.

Spike turned back and winked. “Be back in a few,” he said, closing the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, Spike returned with a deck of cards and a grim look on his face. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

He sighed. “Seems the entire kid’s ward is stuck with the same flu that you have. Peeked in and found one of the kids drawin’ a nasty picture of our fiend. Also, the doc who’s been helpin’ these kids get well is dead. Saw him gettin’ carted off towards the morgue. He’d been slashed up pretty bad, thanks to our villain, I’m sure.”

To her credit, Buffy didn’t shriek with horror or fall into a faint. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths before answering Spike. “Okay, I think our baddie must’ve wanted these kids sick for a reason. Why else get rid of the person trying to heal them? Plus, the kids can obviously see him as much as we can. It just seems a little strange with all the nurses and doctors walking around, that no one else spotted him.”

Spike shrugged. “Dunno what to tell you ‘bout that one, luv. I’m sure your friends’ll find somethin’. ‘Till they get back with news, though, we’ll just have to find some way to amuse ourselves.” He pulled out the cards and grinned at her. “Know how to play gin rummy?”

< --- >

When Giles and Willow arrived two hours later, they were greeted with the most unexpected scene.

Spike was sitting Indian style at the foot of Buffy’s bed with a handful of cards. Buffy was sitting opposite of him, staring at her cards intently. Both were chatting and laughing with each other, and seemed to have forgotten that they were supposed to be mortal enemies.

Just as Giles was shutting the door behind him, Buffy laid down her cards with a triumphant cry. “Ha! I beat you. Pay up, loser,” Buffy said, giggling.

With a mock groan Spike tossed her a packet of M&M’s. Before either one could say anything, however, Giles cleared his throat. Buffy and Spike turned towards the two, surprise written across their features.

“Back already?” Spike asked.

Willow raised her eyebrows. Did he look…disappointed that they were back? “Um, guys, it’s been almost two hours. We thought we’d find you two at each other’s throats,” Willow said, grinning.

“Ever play gin rummy with her? She’ll slay you!” Spike said. Buffy groaned at the bad pun and shoved Spike playfully, earning a goofy smile from Spike.

Giles began to wipe his glasses. “Erm, yes, I’m sure she’s a wonderful card player.”

“Card slayer,” Spike corrected, as Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Enough already!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, please,” Giles said, looking sickened. “I thought you might be interested in this,” he said, handing Buffy a halfway opened book.

Buffy took the book and placed it between her and Spike. “‘Death’? That’s who I’m up against? The Grim Reaper?”

Giles shook his head. “Afraid not. This specific demon causes a sickness to be spread, and only those that have it are able to see him.”

“That’s why only the kids and I can see him?”

Spike frowned. “Wait up; I can see him too.” He paused, then shrugged. “Probably just ‘cause I’m a vampire.”

Giles nodded absently. “This sickness isn’t supposed to be affecting adults; only children.”

“I probably got it because I’m in a ‘between’ age. It’s all right; it’s practically gone now.” She suddenly gasped. “Oh no, Giles! If I don’t have the sickness, I’ll never be able to see this demon to fight it! It’ll come back for the kids, I’m sure of it. I have to stop this thing.”

“Don’t worry, Buffy, we’ll think of something,” Willow said encouragingly. “In the meantime, I found out that a certain Dr. Stanley Backer was murdered last night. Seems like he’d been trying to help the kids for awhile, but never found the cure.”

“Okay, thanks Will.”

Willow nodded. “I’ll see what else I can find. Oh, and Spike?” she said, following Giles out the door.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t play cards with Buffy. She’s really good.”

Spike smirked and turned back to Buffy as the door shut. “Think I figured that one out already,” he said.

Buffy started to answer, then stopped, staring at him thoughtfully. “What?” Spike asked after a few moments.

“Thanks. For doing this. Helping me, playing with me; it was really nice to be able to do something not Slayer related.”

Spike smiled. “You’re just lucky I like losing,” he joked.

Buffy laughed, causing Spike to smile even wider. She really was beautiful. Her eyes were the most brilliant green, and her cheeks were thankfully flushed not due to fever, but from happiness. Her smile matched her golden hair, and her lips…oh no…oh no, Spike, don’t even think about it…

As Buffy’s laughter died away, she realized that Spike was gazing at her…lovingly? No. Not possible. He was a vampire, for crying out loud! All fangs and bumps. But she couldn’t get over how much she was reminded of the ocean every time she looked into his eyes. His lips, too. It was only then that she realized that he was looking at her mouth.

Was he crazy to be doing this? He didn’t really care at the moment. All he wanted was her. He leaned forward slowly, and watched her repeat his movement. At least she wasn’t backing away in revulsion.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they crept closer and closer, until her breath was tickling his face. Then, before either one of them could back away, he kissed her.

It was just a gentle brush of his lips against hers, only a tease, but it left them both wanting more.

“We’re crazy,” Buffy whispered.

“Define sane,” was his reply, before his lips were on hers again.

This kiss wasn’t merely a brush; it was his lips capturing hers, her fingers in his hair, with the kiss getting more passionate with each passing moment.

Buffy finally pulled away, gasping for air. “Wow,” was all she managed to say.

“Yeah,” Spike said, smiling. “Wow.”

She fingered her swollen lips and smiled. “That was definitely something I wouldn’t mind repeating.”

Spike’s response was a small chuckle. “Me neither,” he said. “But first, luv, think we got ourselves a nasty to bag.”

Buffy nodded, her smile gone. “We need to find a way to stop him before tonight, and the only way we’ll be able to do that is if I can see him.”

“I can still see him,” Spike said. “I’ll fight him.”

Buffy turned to Spike, surprised. “You’d do that?”

Spike thought for a minute, before nodding. “Yeah, I would. And I will.”

“Thank you,” Buffy said, smiling. “But I still want to fight him too.”

Spike sighed. “You’re as stubborn as a mule, you know that, ducks?”

“Proud of it. I just wish there was a way for me to…” Her eyes widened, before she began to smile.

“What? Buffy?”

“I know how to stop him,” she said, still grinning.

< --- >

“I don’t like this, luv.”

“Shhh! Someone will hear you. And besides, you’re just jealous that you didn’t come up with the idea yourself.”

“Am not!”

“Really. Then why are you so upset?”

“Because this involves gettin’ you hurt, and…and I just don’t like it!”

Buffy took Spike’s hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

The two were currently walking down the hospital hall; Buffy out of her hateful gown and back into her street clothes, with Spike by her side.

Buffy stopped in front of a wooden door and motioned for Spike to be quiet. “This is it,” she whispered. As softly as she could, she opened the door and tiptoed inside, Spike right behind her.

Once inside, she quickly shut the door behind them and took a good look around. A desk stood in the middle of the room, a small refrigerator to its left. Bookshelves were lined with medical supplies, and a medical degree hung above one bookshelf with the name: DR. STANLEY BACKER.

“What exactly are we hopin’ to find here?”

Buffy’s eyes scanned the desk, before she grabbed a piece of paper off it. “This. Listen up,” she said excitedly. “According to this log, Backer was working on a vaccination to help the kids. In order to do that, he had to study the virus. Which means…”

“He has some of it around,” Spike finished for her. “Just let me fight the blasted thing, please?”

Buffy sighed. “No! I want to help you. Did it possibly occur to you that I’d be worried about you getting hurt?”

Spike blinked, then shook his head. “Guess not.”

Buffy turned to the refrigerator and peered inside. Test tubes were lined up neatly in a plastic tube tray. She found the tube she was looking for and pulled it out with a flourish of her arm. After a quick glance around the room, she found a foam cup, and placed a little water into it. She then poured half of the tube into the cup as Spike watched nervously.

Buffy swirled the cup a few times, before turning to Spike. He began to say something, but bit his lip.

Buffy swallowed hard. “Cheers,” she whispered, before tipping her head back as she drank the contents of the cup.

She tossed the cup into a nearby trash can and headed for the door. “C’mon. We’ve got to get to the kids before he does.”

Spike merely nodded, hoping that she knew what she was doing.

They had almost reached the hallway leading to the kids ward when she began to sway. Before Spike could step forward, however, Buffy steadied herself and kept going. She was beginning to wonder if giving herself the virus had been such a good idea. Her mouth felt dry, and she was beginning to feel dizzy and nauseous again. She forced herself to move forward.

She hadn’t gone more then four steps before she began to fall. Spike caught her before she hit the floor, and quickly helped her to her feet. “Almost there, pet,” he whispered in her ear. Buffy nodded.

They reached the kid’s ward and peered inside. She gasped as she looked from one bed to another, but it didn’t matter where she looked: the children were gone.

“Did he already show up?” she wondered aloud.

Her question was answered as a dark mist began to appear in the children’s room. Death had arrived. He looked around the room, obviously not happy that the children were missing. His gaze fell on Spike and Buffy, and his huge teeth curled into a hideous grin. With a nod in their direction, he headed for a large wooden door marked ‘Basement Access’. Buffy grabbed the doorknob, and found that the door to the kid’s ward was locked.

“He’s going after the kids,” Buffy hissed frantically. “We have to stop him!”

Spike nodded. “I know another way into the basement.”

He grabbed her hand, and the two began to run. Suddenly Buffy moaned and fell to the floor, clutching her head.

Spike bent down beside her, concern written on his face. She was pale, her forehead was covered in sweat, and her breathing was labored. “I knew this was a bad idea,” Spike murmured.

Buffy shook her head tiredly. “No, no, it’s okay. Just help me up, we have to stop him!”

Spike shook his head. “You’re not walkin’ there, luv. Got a better idea.” As gently as he could, he pulled her feverish body into his arms. After making sure she was safely situated, he began to run.

They reached the basement door without seeing any nurses or doctors along the way. Before Spike could try to open the door with the precious bundle in his arms, Buffy had yanked it open. She was obviously still conscious. He descended the stairs as quickly as he could, and looked around him. The basement was a mess of pipes and barely lit tunnels. But where were the kids?

As if to answer his question, screams erupted from the tunnel to his left. He ran as fast as he could towards the wails, still carrying Buffy. Just as he reached the opening, he found the kids screaming in one corner, and Death with his eyes extended towards the young boy Spike had seen earlier. The one who had drawn such an exact portrayal of the demon.

As gently as he dared, he set Buffy down on the ground. He turned his attention towards the demon, who was about to make a meal out of the screaming boy. With a flying kick, the demon was sent sprawling, and the boy scampered back to the other children.

“Get out of here, now!” Spike yelled to the kids. They didn’t need to be told twice. They were already running down the tunnel as fast as their legs could carry them.

“Look out!! SPIKE!!”

At Buffy’s scream, Spike had barely turned back to the demon before it was on top of him. After a few punches from Death, Spike was left dazed, lying on his back. Death extended his long, sharp nails and pulled his arm back, ready to strike.

When Spike opened his eyes, he found Buffy forcing the demon back slowly but surely. She was panting heavily now, and every now and then she’d sway to the side.

Finally, Death saw his chance. With a swift kick Buffy was sent flying into the wall. She tried to push herself up, but couldn’t. Her arms gave way underneath her, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

“BUFFY!!!” Spike screamed. He tore his gaze away from her and turned back to the demon, who was headed for the Slayer. A rage like he’d never felt before began to well up inside of him. With a feral roar he launched himself at the demon. As much as he wanted to make the demon suffer for hurting her, he knew that Buffy would need his help. With a satisfying snap the demon’s neck broke, and he fell to the ground, dead.

Spike hurried over to Buffy and pushed her onto her back. She still had the symptoms of the virus, but she was now shaking violently. He was sure that laying in a cold, wet basement wasn’t helping matters.

He was about to take her back to her nice hospital bed when she moaned softly. “Spike?” she asked.

Spike smiled through his tears of relief. “I’m here, luv.”

“What about…?”

“Death is dead.” He chuckled softly. “Now there’s an odd phrase for ya.”

“Are you okay?” she asked weakly.

Spike looked down at her in shock. “How can you be worried about me? You get knocked unconscious, and you’re worried about a few punches that were thrown my way?”

Buffy smiled and took his hand in her shaking one. “Yeah, I am. Are you okay?” she asked again.

Spike closed his eyes and smiled, squeezing her hand. “Never been better,” he whispered, before taking her into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.

< --- >

Buffy awoke to the sound of some bird whistling…wait a minute. Since when did birds whistle “Born to be Wild”?

Buffy sat up, sleep completely forgotten. Unfortunately, her injuries had been forgotten, too. She hissed and clutched her head as she tried to stop the world from spinning.

The ‘bird’ stopped whistling and was by her side in an instant. “Good to see you awake, luv.”

Buffy turned to Spike with a smile. “What exactly were you doing? Trying to imitate a bluebird? You were doing a fairly good job, if you’d like to know.”

Spike grinned. “I was just tryin’ a few card tricks, that’s all.”

“Preparing yourself to lose again?”

“Nah, don’t have to. Don’t intend on losin’ again.”

Buffy smiled, then sighed. “What happens now? Do things go back to the way they were?”

Spike shook his head. “Don’t think they ever can, Buffy.”

“You could stay and help us fight Angelus,” she said.

“I really don’t think we were discussin’ Peaches, luv.”

“No, I guess we weren’t,” Buffy admitted. “So, what happens with us? Is there an us?”

“There’s definitely somethin’,” Spike agreed. “I can feel it. I know I have feelin’s for you, and from the way you’re lookin’ at me right now, you do, too.”

Buffy turned scarlet and looked down at her hands. “Well? Am I right?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, you are.” She leaned in towards him, and smiled. “What about what we said earlier? About us wishing Angel still had his soul, and Dru by your side?”

“Changed my mind. I like things better this way,” he said, pressing his lips against hers.

Buffy couldn’t have said it better herself.

THE END