Fluffy Normal Again

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E-mail Hilary

by Nebula

Note: This is a response to Challenge 43

Buffy hissed as she moved a little too fast for comfort. That wound was really starting to bug her. And the whole mental ward vision hadn’t been so nice either.

She shook her thoughts away. The wound would heal, and she would enjoy her day off from the Doublemeat Palace.

The side door slammed open, and Buffy immediately reached for a knife. She stopped when she saw who the culprit was, and rolled her eyes, waiting for Spike to stomp out the flames. “What are you doing here?” she asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

Spike finished putting the fires out, then glanced up at her. “You tell me. Thought you were comin’ over to my place last night.” He stepped forward, leering and ready to make an innuendo, but stopped, sniffing the air. He frowned, before glancing at where her wound lay under her shirt. Buffy shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, then winced as it pulled on the wound.

Immediately Spike was at her side, gently pulling on her shirt despite her protesting. “What happened?” he asked, his frown deepening as he stared at the wound.

“Just a demon last night, no big deal,” Buffy said, trying to pull away. Spike ignored her, holding onto her arms as he continued to peer at her shoulder.

The front door opened, and Willow came in. “Buffy, are you…oh, I guess you took the day off after all.” Her eyes caught sight of the wound, and she quickly hurried over, her small smile disappearing. “What happened?”

Spike shrugged, gently brushing his thumb over the blood. “Some demon last night, that’s all she…”

Buffy didn’t hear anything else. The moment Spike’s thumb had touched the wound, Buffy had found herself back in the mental ward. Two men with restraints came forward, and Buffy screamed and began crawling away from them. “No, please!” she shouted, desperately kicking out at them. She gasped as the kicks hit the men’s shins, but did absolutely nothing. She had no strength.

“NO!!” she screamed as they grabbed her, forcing her down and plunging a syringe into her elbow. Her shoulder throbbed once, and then everything went black.
< --- >

“Buffy?”

A hand caressing her cheek pulled her from the limbo she was in. Slowly she opened her eyes, meeting worried blue ones.

Spike sighed with relief. “Don’t do that again, please. Bloody ‘ell, Buffy…”

“What happened?” she asked.

“You tell me. One minute I’m tellin’ Red ‘bout what you told me, the next you’re fallin’ to the ground, screamin’. Wasn’t fun to watch.”

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Spike bit his lip, warring over something in his mind. He finally seemed to make up his mind, and placed a light kiss to her forehead. “Just scared me is all. Scared Red too. She’s downstairs, lookin’ up demon texts. It won’t do her any good unless she knows what to look for. Mind tellin’ me what happened?”

Buffy sighed and nodded, then launched into the explanation of the mental ward visits. By the time she was finished, Spike looked ill. He cleared his throat before he started. “They…”

Buffy nodded.

“With restraints…?”

Buffy nodded.

“And you couldn’t…?”

Buffy shook her head.

“Bleedin’ ‘ell,” he whispered, sitting back. He swallowed, then turned back to her. “You all right?”

Buffy blinked, slightly surprised. He hadn’t been this soft with his touches or his voice for a long time. “A little on the wigged side, but I’ll be okay,” she finally said a few moments later.

“You sure? ‘Cause I can stay, but Red should…”

“Know, I agree,” Buffy said, giving him a tired smile. “Go. The sooner you guys figure it out, the sooner I don’t have to be…wherever it was.” She thought back to the advancing men and couldn’t suppress a shudder.

Spike reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, before heading out of the room. Buffy watched him go, then sighed. “You don’t make things easy, do you Spike?” she murmured.

“Is Spike the vampire?”

Buffy blinked, glancing around the room. Her bedroom had become a white-walled room, and there was someone sitting next to her bed. The one she was strapped down to. “Buffy? Are you with me?” the man asked.

Buffy glanced over at him, her stomach rolling. His tag read ‘Dr. Stevens’, and his white coat certainly proved the doctor part. “Where am I?” she asked, hating the tremor in her voice.

Dr. Stevens smiled, perking up at her question. “You’re in the downtown LA ward for the mentally ill. It’s good to have you back, Buffy.”

“Back?” she asked, taking a quick peek at her restraints. Surely she could pull those away from the bed…

“Yes, back. You’ve been here for almost seven years, Buffy.”

Buffy froze. Seven years? What was this guy on? “You were put in here by your parents when you continued to talk about a world you had created, called Sunnydale. Does that sound familiar?” Dr. Stevens asked.

“No,” she breathed, swallowing back bile. This wasn’t happening. “I-I didn’t create Sunnydale. It’s where I live, with Xander and Dawn and Willow and…”

Dr. Stevens sighed, glancing down at his watch. “I have to go now, Buffy, but I’ll be back. You see, your parents would like you to go home with them, but I can’t allow that until you realize that none of those people exist.” He stood and headed towards the door.

Buffy could feel the rage boiling within her. How dare this prissy excuse for a doctor tell her… “What are you talking about? Those are my friends you’re calling non-existent!” she yelled, pulling at the restraints. She stared with horror at the straps holding her down. They were made of leather and hard plastics. She’d twisted chains before. What the hell was going on?!

“Buffy!”

Buffy blinked, and the white room was gone, replaced with her own bedroom and two very anxious looking faces.

“Were you there again?” Willow asked, frowning.

Buffy nodded, her mind still on the doctor’s words. Sunnydale, not real? The bed she felt under her was real. The wound throbbing in her right shoulder was certainly real. Spike had touched her earlier, and that had been real.

But the bed in the ward had felt real, too. So had the restraints.

Buffy glanced back up at her friends, shivering. “Make it stop?” she pleaded.
< --- >

Two hours later, Willow found it. “It’s a…well, it’s a demon with a name that’s highly unpronounceable so I won’t try, but it fits the bill to a tee.” She handed the book over to Spike, who showed the picture to Buffy. “Is that him?” Willow asked hopefully.

Buffy nodded, absently reaching up to touch the wound. It still throbbed, even though it had healed earlier that morning. “That’s him all right; pointy skewers and all.”

“There’s a poison emitted from that pointy skewer,” Spike supplied, handing the book back to Willow. “The poison makes their victim hallucinate, and that in turn gives the demon time to kill ‘em.”

“The demon’s not dead?” Willow asked, turning to Buffy for confirmation.

“No, I was a little occupied fending off the men in white coats,” Buffy grumbled. “But you guys can fix this, right?”

Willow nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s not a problem. The antidote is in the skewer, as well as the poison, so we’ll just go out and get it. Dawnie’ll stay with you, and we’ll be back before you know it.”

“Just be careful?” Buffy asked.

Willow gave her a grin as she stood. “We will, we promise. We’ll be back before you know it.” She headed out, then turned towards Dawn’s room.

Spike stood as well, but his gaze lingered on Buffy. Buffy glanced away, clearing her throat. “Sorry about no last night,” she said, before she frowned. “Wait a minute. There was no last night! Why did you come over this morning?”

Buffy watched, surprised, as Spike ducked his head, clearly embarrassed. “Well, Nibblet wanted me to help her with her…you know…then you didn’t…” He sighed, staring at his feet. “Couldn’t find you on patrol last night, and I got worried,” he admitted softly.

Buffy blinked. She wasn’t surprised anymore; she’d gone straight past that all the way to stunned. Spike had been worried enough to risk his unlife earlier that morning, just to see if she was all right? But…but what about the girl he’d brought to the wedding? She’d thought that he was well over her and back to the ‘I want Buffy dead’ phase, but apparently not.

He glanced up, giving her a small smile. “Be back with the antidote,” he promised, before stepping out of the room.

“What antidote, Buffy?”

Buffy almost screamed as her soft-colored walls turned into bright white ones. “Buffy, are you here now? You were mumbling about an antidote,” Dr. Stevens said.

“Yes, the antidote Spike’s getting me, because I want OUT,” Buffy growled.

“And you believe this Spike?”

Buffy frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Dr. Stevens sighed. Buffy wished she was out of her restraints so she could slap him. “This…vampire has supposedly tried to kill you, and has had sex with you, done things to you, and yet you won’t dust him? Worse yet, you believe him, leave him alone with…Dawn, is it?”

Buffy narrowed her gaze. “Spike’s proven himself in the past more than once. And he cares about Dawn, just like he cares about me. I…want…OUT!!” she screamed, tugging on the restraints.

Dr. Stevens waited until she’d calmed down before replying. “Buffy, I understand your frustrations, but the answer to all of this is simple. You’ve created Sunnydale simply to escape the pain of the real world. In Sunnydale, the real bad guys are easy to spot.”

Buffy stared at him, before she began to shake her head. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not true.”

“We managed to pull you out of there last summer,” Dr. Stevens continued. “You were with us for one hundred and forty-seven days, before you disappeared again.”

Buffy could feel tears welling up. This wasn’t real, Sunnydale was real, with Dawn and Spike…

“Look at your life in Sunnydale,” Dr. Stevens said, leaning forward. “You have a sister that’s a key to alternate dimensions. You have witches for friends. You’re a human with super-natural abilities. Spike’s a vampire, for crying out loud.” He paused, before pointing at the door behind him. “You can walk right out that door Buffy. All you have to do is wake up to the real reality. The one with people who really care about you. The one where you’re not in a destructive relationship with Spike.”

This…this place had been heaven? She could go back to this. If this was truly heaven, then Dr. Stevens was offering her a way of returning to it, leaving that damnable world behind. And he was right; Spike had gone to the wedding with that girl, not giving a damn about Buffy.

Then why is he so concerned now? a voice whispered inside of her, but she ignored it. She was tired of living in the world she’d been forced into. She wanted to go home.

Buffy turned to Dr. Stevens, nodding. “What do I have to do?”
< --- >

Willow and Spike returned triumphant, if not a little gooey. Buffy watched in silence as they mixed and poured, before Willow held up a mug. “We got it!” she cheered, giving Spike a high-five. Spike looked amused but accepted it.

Willow hurried over to Buffy, handing her the mug. “Drink that, and don’t ask what we did to get it,” the redhead warned, grinning sheepishly.

Buffy nodded numbly, raising the mug to her lips. Satisfied, Willow headed out, Spike right behind her.

Immediately Buffy pulled the mug away from her mouth, then dumped the liquid into a bowl standing by. She glanced down at the now empty mug, before turning her gaze to the door. She began to smile, setting the mug down and heading for the door.

Willow and Spike were discussing something in Willow’s room, and Buffy easily slipped past them. She hurried down the stairs, then turned her attention to the person on the sofa: Dawn. Slowly she made her way over to the teen.

Dawn never took her gaze away from the television. “I take it you’re feeling better?” she asked, smiling slightly. She turned to tell her sister that she was glad, but never got the chance. Buffy’s hands shot out, effectively pressing her thumbs against Dawn’s neck. The teen went limp in Buffy’s arms.

Silently she carried the girl down into the basement and tied her up. Only two left now. How could she do this?

“Buffy?” Willow’s voice called from the kitchen, and Buffy grinned. Apparently, this would be easier then she’d thought. She made her way upstairs, finding Willow rinsing out the mug. Buffy’s grin broadened.

Willow turned, giving Buffy a smile. “Good to have you back,” she chirped, before setting the mug down with a frown. “Do you know where Dawn is?”

Buffy nodded, stepping over to her friend. Willow’s frown deepened slightly, and she couldn’t help taking two steps back. “Buffy?” she asked, her voice unsure.

“Dawn’s downstairs,” Buffy said quietly, before her hands reached out to knock Willow out.

Willow was quicker than Dawn, and managed to avoid the hands. “Sp…” Willow started to yell, only to have Buffy’s hand clamp down on her mouth.

“Now, now, Willow, we don’t need him down here yet,” Buffy said cheerfully, dragging the redhead down into the basement. She ripped off a strip of duct tape and placed it over Willow’s mouth, then set about tying her up next to Dawn.

Buffy headed back upstairs to grab number three. This was more fun than she’d thought it would be.

She headed into the living room to wait. Her eyes caught sight of the weapons chest, and suddenly she had a new idea. Whistling, she bent down to retrieve what she wanted.

“Buffy? Everythin’ all right?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Buffy replied, not pulling away from the chest.

“I thought I heard Red,” Spike said, and she could hear the frown in his voice.

Buffy shrugged, smiling as she found what she’d been looking for. “How about I show you where she went, and then you can ask her for yourself?” she said, standing and turning to Spike, who looked completely bewildered. His eyes landed on what was in her hands, and the bewildered look gave way to a horrified one.

Buffy gave him a feral grin. “But I thought you liked playing dangerous games?” she said, before she started towards him. Spike quickly spun around and ran the other way, and with a laugh she began to pursue him around the house.

Spike slid past the kitchen table, calling out for Willow. With a quick kick Buffy sent a chair flying in front of his path. Spike instinctively jumped away from it, before realizing that his move had pushed him back into the corner near the side door. Buffy stepped forward, and with a grin shoved the cross in his face.

Spike cried out, pushing back into the corner as far as he could go. “Buffy, please,” he begged, eyes starting to burn from the cross. Buffy ignored him, instead grabbing him by the lapels of his duster, cross still in hand. Spike hissed as she threw him towards the basement. The door was still open, and he tumbled down the stairs, hearing a muffled cry as he did so. He landed at the bottom, stunned.

Buffy calmly took the stairs one at a time, then grabbed him by his duster once more and threw him towards Willow. He skidded to a halt in front of her, the two exchanging terrified glances.

Before he knew it, Spike was tied up beside Willow. “Buffy, why?” he asked, watching as she headed over to a nearby shelf. She continued to keep her back to him, and she hummed as she pulled things down. “Buffy!” he yelled desperately.

Buffy stopped, before slowly turning to regard him. “Buffy?” she said, her lips turning up into a cruel smile. Spike froze at her next words.

“Buffy’s not here anymore.”
< --- >

Buffy pulled desperately at her restraints, yelling curses after the doctor. That son of a…

He’d told her to end her make-believe world. To destroy those ‘figments’. To basically kill her friends and family.

She’d told him, as nicely as possibly, no way in hell.

He’d stared at her, shocked, then had stood, spitting, “You’re a fool, Ms. Summers. You’ll always be here now. It’s your fault.” He’d turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

Buffy growled. How long had she been gone in her world? Too long. She wanted to go back to Sunnydale, but funnily enough, she couldn’t go back. She’d tried enough times to know. She was stuck in the mental ward. With a cry she threw herself upwards against the restraints.

Which promptly ripped from the bed.

Buffy stared at her freed wrists, then quickly reached down to undo her ankles. All four restraints were done, and then the straps against her body, or what was left of them after her pull, were ripped away. She was free.

She glanced around, searching for something, anything, to keep herself safe from the nuts. The real nuts, the goons in the white coats. She was sick of this world. She wanted to go home, and she wanted to go home now.

She found nothing. She’d just find something on the way then. She headed over to the door, and was pleased to find it unlocked. About time something was going her way. She peered out into the corridor, and when she didn’t see anyone, hurried out.

Noises from the left quickly sent Buffy scurrying to the right. She wasn’t really sure what she was searching for, besides a way home. There wasn’t really a portal to do that with, though. Or was there?

She made her way down the halls, making turns here and there. Everything was so white and clean, and her bare feet made little noise on the tiles. At least, she hoped they did.

Two shadows appeared on the wall, and Buffy froze for a split second. They were coming towards her hall. Glancing around, she ran to the nearest door and opened it, closing it seconds before the nurses turned the corner.

With a sigh of relief Buffy turned away from the door, blinking with surprise at the room she was in. The records room. Filing cabinets were everywhere, and she had a sudden idea.

It didn’t take her long to find the drawer with the patients with last names starting with ‘S’ on it, and she quickly dug through the papers. “It has to be here,” she muttered.

She stopped, then began to grin as she pulled out a file. SUMMERS, ELIZABETH. Perfect.

She flipped the folder open and began to read.
< --- >

“Does she ever shut up?” Buffy said, but it wasn’t really Buffy. Spike could tell, just from the scent of her, that the Slayer he knew and loved wasn’t housed in that body anymore. Her attitude might have been a big giveaway too.

In the corner, Dawn was choking back sobs, staring at the body of her sister with fear-filled eyes. Willow was frozen beside her.

“About as much as you do,” Spike replied, glaring at the body-snatcher. “You got a name?”

Buffy grinned. “I thought it was Buffy.”

“Your real one. Somethin’ long and complicated. You demons are always the same.”

Buffy laughed, and Spike shivered. She was really creepy sounding. Of course, the sight of her with a huge knife casually hanging from her fingers wasn’t helping matters. “It’s Elizabeth. Elizabeth Summers.”

Spike stared in growing horror. “No, it bloody well is NOT. Where is she?”

Elizabeth sighed, spinning the blade. “I’m getting really tired of these questions. Can I just cut you open now?”

“Where’s my sister?!” Dawn suddenly yelled from her corner. Spike turned to see tears still rolling down her face, but her eyes were filled with rage instead of terror. Atta girl, he thought proudly.

“Your ‘sister’ is in a mental ward,” Elizabeth said, stepping over to Dawn. “Most likely dead by now. They were getting really tired of me last time I looked. No hope for me or whatever.”

Spike frowned, before his eyes widened in realization. “You’re the mental patient that belongs in that ward, not Buffy! You’ve been switchin’ places!”

“Not bad, Holmes. But she adapted faster to my world then I did to hers. Besides the fact that when she blanked out, so did I. Not fun, but you take the escapes when you can.”

“Escapes?” Spike asked, a bad feeling tingling in his gut.

Elizabeth slowly began to grin. “Yeah. Escapes. I got tired of being force-fed pills daily. Wanted out. And then, suddenly, I was out. In a world where this other me is a weirdo, granted, but she’s free. So I figure, we could do the Freaky Friday thing. Except I’d like to stay switched for good.”

“What does killin’ us accomplish?” Spike asked, smirking at her. She was too close to Dawn, he had to draw her away…

Elizabeth stepped over to him, and he gave an inward sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. Now all he had to do was get out. “Well, it’ll keep you guys from trying to bring her back. And while I take care of you, the good doctors in LA can take care of her. There’s not much she can do against them; I’m the one with the super strength now. Which, by the way, is awesome.”

Spike stared at her, gritting his teeth. Buffy was stuck in a hospital with no strength, being hurt and practically tortured…his heart wrenched for her. He had to get her out.

“But killing you guys’ll make me feel better, and give me a fresh start, no strings and whatever,” she continued, grinning at him.

Spike said nothing as she headed towards him, blade raised. He ignored Dawn’s shrieks and Willow’s muffled cries. He focused instead on his wrists, which weren’t exactly tied as tight as they could’ve been. He could get them loose…

And then he could get Buffy back.
< --- >

With trembling hands Buffy replaced the file in the drawer. That had been just…just…she shuddered.

She was a murderer. An actual killer in this world, one that hurt people. Except for the fact that the Buffy that belonged here killed people because she thought they were demons. A twisted parody of her life in Sunnydale. Her real life.

And if the Sunnydale Buffy was here, then the mental ward Buffy was in…

Buffy froze. The murderer was in Sunnydale. With Dawn and Willow. With Spike. Oh shi…

She turned to the door, then gasped as a doctor came through. His eyes widened as he caught sight of her, and he began to yell for help. Buffy quickly reached over and hauled him inside, before slamming his head into the filing cabinet. He fell to the floor, dazed.

As silently as she could Buffy hurried from the room. She had to get home now. The psycho her was going to hurt people she cared about. People she loved. Images of their faces flashed through her mind, and she admitted to herself that Spike was in that group. She cared about him, liked him even. Loved? That she wasn’t sure about. But she’d rather have him undead to find out than dusted and never really know.

She was almost down the hallway when the white walls turned red with flashing lights. Alarms sounded, and Buffy cringed. Voices were shouting behind her, and she knew they were after her. She began to run.

She slid down into another hallway, desperately reading signs as she ran. Something, anything to help her get out. She halted in front of one that read STAIRS and quickly threw the door open. The voices were louder now.

“Please, please, please lead me out of here,” she pleaded to the stairs as she ran down them. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest, and her breathing was coming in short gasps. This no Slayer power thing sucked.

She hurried through another door, stopping short at the sight of the dark room and the huge metal pipes. The basement corridors. Taking a deep breath, she turned right and ran as fast as she could, the pounding of footsteps on the stairs urging her on.
< --- >

Elizabeth smiled, happy with her work. “That’s a really good look on you,” she said, beaming. She turned to put her bloodied knife away and began searching for another tool.

Spike now sported several cuts, some straight down to bone. Dawn was crying again, and Willow wasn’t speaking at all. He glanced over at the girls, worried for them both. His wrists still continued to twist the ropes binding his hands. They were almost there…

Elizabeth gave a triumphant “Ah ha!” and headed over to Willow. Spike’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of the screwdriver in the maniac’s hands. Willow whimpered and tried to scoot back.

“You’ve been very quiet lately,” Elizabeth said, kneeling before Willow. “I think it’s time you said something. Of course, I’d rather hear screaming. And I know just how to get you to do that…"

Spike pulled frantically at the ropes, knowing his struggles were visible but not caring anymore. The screwdriver was inches away from the witch’s face now…and the ropes gave. With a roar he lunged at her, tackling Elizabeth to the ground.

She landed a few good hits to his torso, but in the end Spike held the upper hand. He threw her against the stairway, then hurried over to Willow, ripping the tape from her mouth and undoing the ropes on her hands. “Get Dawn out of here,” he ordered, before turning back to Elizabeth.

He didn’t turn quite soon enough. The screwdriver flew through the air, landing with perfect accuracy in his shoulder. Spike hissed and staggered backwards, reaching up to pull the screwdriver from his body.

Elizabeth snarled and jumped at him, only to end up sprawled on the floor. Spike smirked, stalking her. “Can’t take it, can you?” he said, before glaring at her. “You really thought you could take over her life? You ARE pathetic. Buffy is unique, always has been, always will be. Part of why I love her so damn much.”

“You’re in LOVE with her? That’s rich,” Elizabeth said, before she began to laugh. “Must be killing you, having to beat your lover up.”

“She won’t mind,” Spike said, and threw himself at her again. The two blocked hits, landing a few good ones every now and then. Willow had just undone Dawn’s ropes, and the two began to creep up the stairs.

Elizabeth glared at them, before reaching back for the knife. “RUN!!” Spike yelled, running towards her. If she threw that knife, he knew exactly which direction it was going in. He could survive having sharp things thrown at him, but Willow and Dawn couldn’t.

He’d almost made it to her when Elizabeth cried out, pulling both hands back to cradle her head. Spike frowned, then reached over and grabbed the knife. Elizabeth didn’t notice.

With a gasp her head whipped back, and clear green eyes met worried blue ones. “Spike?” she whispered.

Spike stared, jaw dropping. The scent had changed to a more familiar one. “Buffy?” he asked tentatively, stepping forward.

With another cry her head dropped, and when she raised her eyes again, there was a murderous intent there. She howled and charged him, dodging the knife easily.

Spike continued to fend her off, but his mind was desperately trying to form a plan. Because for those few seconds, Buffy had been back.
< --- >

Buffy cradled her head, slowly picking herself up from the floor. The yelling was getting even louder, and she forced herself on.

For a few seconds, she could’ve sworn she’d been back in Sunnydale. Spike had been standing over her, frowning, a bloody knife in his hand. She’d called out to him, and the shock on his face had almost made him drop the weapon. “Buffy?” he’d asked, seconds before everything had gone black.

How had she managed to have gone back? She’d been reaching to open another door, and she’d closed her eyes, just for a split second. Then the change back to her world.

Buffy was sure it was because of the psycho Buffy that she was stuck in the mental ward. Seemed psycho Buffy had had a taste of a better life and had kept it. And because she had the strength to keep the real Sunnydale Buffy out, they were staying switched.

But that meant that the other one was getting weaker. Spike must be wearing her down. Buffy gave a small smile. Spike would get her out. She knew it.

So occupied with her thoughts, she didn’t even see the pipes in front of her. She managed to stop herself from slamming into them, then her eyes were darting around for the next turn.

There was none.

Buffy’s stomach turned. She was trapped.

“Ms. Summers, I believe we have to take you back,” a familiar voice said. Buffy whirled around, whimpering.

Dr. Stevens stood before her, another doctor and two cops right behind him.

“Hurry Spike,” she whispered, before closing her eyes. She’d give him as much help as she could. Ignoring the footsteps that were coming towards her, she began to push against the mental block that kept her from home.
< --- >

Elizabeth fell to the floor, panting. “Give up?” Spike asked, his grip still tight around the knife’s handle.

Elizabeth glared at him. “You’re insane,” she hissed, pushing herself up for another round.

“No, I believe that would be you,” Spike muttered. She was getting more used to his attacks, more comfortable with a body that wasn’t hers. And Spike wasn’t sure he was doing anything that was helping his Buffy anymore. She came at him, and he tripped her easily, sending her sprawling once more.

But she wasn’t getting up this time. Spike watched as she slowly began to raise herself up, wincing and clutching her head every now and then. An idea began to form in his head, and he quickly dropped the knife, rushing over towards her.

He grabbed her wrists and twisted her over, landing her with a hard thud on her back. She gasped, the wind temporarily knocked from her lungs. To add shock upon shock Spike bent down over her, pressing his lips against hers.

She began to push against him, hands clutching desperately against his chest. Then her hands relaxed, and her lips parted, kissing him back.

He pulled away, and her clear green eyes greeted him once more. “Hello cutie,” he whispered, smiling.

Buffy sniffled even as she gave him a watery smile, and he pulled her from the floor into his arms. “You all right?” he asked quietly.

She shook her head against his chest. “They were right there, ready with a jacket and tazers and needles and…”

Spike tightened his grip, forcing his growls down. He’d only scare her even more, and she needed comfort now. Even though all he wanted to do was find a way into this world for himself just so he could kick their…

“Buffy!”

Spike pulled himself from his gruesome yet satisfying thoughts, loosening his hold on Buffy only so Willow and Dawn could join in the hug. The four of them sat on the stone floor, just holding on to the girl they’d almost lost.
< --- >

Elizabeth blinked, drawing in a ragged breath. Damn him! A freakin’ kiss had…no. No, no, no…

She stared at the approaching cops and doctors. Her scream of fury and frustration echoed off of the corridors.
< --- >

Buffy shuddered, handing the empty mug to Spike. “That was nasty,” she said, shuddering again.

“But there’ll be no more hallucinatin’, or different worlds, or whatever. You’re stuck with us,” Spike joked, giving her a smile.

“You’re doing it again,” she said, gazing at him.

Spike frowned. “Doin’ what?”

Buffy threw her arms up, gesturing towards him. “You keep being so nice and soft with your touches and words and…”

“Still in love with you, Buffy,” he said, cutting her off. “Nothin’s gonna change that. I don’t care how many times you push me away. Nothin’ can change how I feel ‘bout you.”

Buffy sniffled, before inching her way forward. “Maybe your feelings can’t change, but mine can,” she said quietly.

Spike blinked, before he realized what she was talking about. “Yeah?” he whispered, hope and awe shining in his eyes.

Buffy smiled. “Yeah.”

THE END