Chapter Seven

She went directly to the floor where she’d been told they were taking Dru’s victim, walking slowly down the halls until she heard a low, “In here, Slayer.”  She ducked into the room to find Spike leaning against the window, staring out into the darkness. 

“Hey,” she said softly.  “How’s he doing?”

He shrugged. “Heartbeat’s strong. Guess he’s going to make it – at least as long as we can keep Dru away from him.”

“Do you really think she’ll try to come here? Tonight?”

“Prob’ly not tonight,” he admitted. “She won’t know he’s still alive yet, and she’ll expect you to be hunting for her.” He straightened up. “But, by this time tomorrow, she’ll have a minion or two out looking for any information she hasn’t already got from her pixies, or the stars, or Miss Edith…  Yeah, by this time tomorrow, she’ll know he’s alive, and probably just where he is. The sooner we can get him out of here and into someplace vamp proof, the better.”

Buffy studied the still figure in the bed. He looked very young, his pale face accentuating the eyeliner still circling his closed eyes. She wondered briefly if his eyes were blue, like Spike’s. She couldn’t smother a yawn, and looked away, embarrassed at seeming weak in front of Spike.

“Get some rest, Buffy,” he said, pointing at the chair.  “I’ll take the watch.”

“Aren’t you tired too?”

He shook his head. “Slept a bit in the ship on the way back from— on the way back. Anyway,” he said, with a smile in her direction, “creature of the night, remember?  I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’m not going to argue—” She paused to throw a paper cup at him when he pretended to be shocked. “Just wake me up if you need me, ‘kay?”

“Alright, love. Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

With that comforting thought, Buffy drifted off to sleep, her head on an extra pillow she’d found in the cupboard.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She stirred once or twice, hearing whispers as nurses came in to check on the patient and had short conversations with Spike, but she didn’t really wake up until she felt bright sunlight on her face.  She got to her feet and stretched, looking around for Spike. She found him pinned in a corner, glaring at the sunlight streaming through the large window and filling the small room.  Moving quickly, she crossed the room, lowered the blinds, and tilted them to keep the sun’s deadly rays out of the room.

Spike sighed with gratitude and walked over to her. “Thank you, pet. Really didn’t want to be explaining to any nosy nurses why I needed them to keep the sun out while I’m supposed to be keeping the big bad vampires away.” He looked at his hand, which she could see was reddened. “Or why I needed all the sunblock they could find. Thought I was going to lose my hand before the silly bints left and I could stop trying to fake enjoying the morning sun”

“Nurses? Plural?” she asked as she took his hand and frowned at what looked like a very bad sunburn.

He nodded. “Seems like they’ve had enough throat trauma victims in here lately that they’re all sporting crosses around their necks and garlic perfume. They didn’t mind a bit that I was standing guard… although I suspect they would have been less happy about it if they’d known.”

“Oh. Well, that makes things a little easier, doesn’t it? I mean as long as they don’t figure out that you—”

“Yeah. I figured watching me go up in flames might have been a dead giveaway,” he said. “Emphasis on ‘dead’.”

“Not funny, Spike.”

He shrugged. “Not feeling all that funny this morning,” he said. “Bit tired, a lot hungry, and,” he nodded to the still body on the bed, “I think we’ve got a problem.”

“Is he all right?”

“Depends on your definition of alright. He’s alive, and he’s conscious—” Spike kicked the bed. “Open your eyes, wanker. Quit pretending you can’t hear us.”

The boy on the bed opened clear blue eyes that glared at Spike and then turned on Buffy.

“Where… where’s my mistress?” he croaked, putting a hand on the bandage around his neck. “Why did you take me—”

“You’re welcome,” Buffy said, glaring back at him. “We don’t know where she is, but we’ll find her, and when we do—”

“I want to go back,” the boy said, a note of hysteria in his voice. “I need to go back to her. She said we would be together forever. I have to find her.”

“Yeah, well, I already told you, Dru’s idea of ‘forever’ can be a mite shaky,” Spike said in disgust. “She could be on her way to South America by now; but just in case she isn’t, we’re keeping you safe.”

“Why? I want to go back. She loves me!”

Buffy grabbed Spike’s sleeve and pulled him toward the bed. Even without the eyeliner and nail polish that he hadn’t worn in years, the resemblance between him and the boy in the bed was remarkable.  “Do you see this… man…?” Buffy said.  There was no answer, but she went on anyway. “This is why she tried to turn you. If she can’t have you, she’ll just go get herself another guy who looks like Spike.”

The boy stared at Spike as if seeing him for the first time. “You… you’re like me,” he breathed.  “You’re hers!”

Spike shook his head. Instead of the anger Buffy had expected, he seemed sad.  “No, mate. I’m not like you.  And I’m not Dru’s. Haven’t been hers in a very long time.”

“But…” The boy frowned. “But you feel like…” He closed his eyes in despair. “You feel like I should belong to—”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Buffy stared at Spike, her eyes wide as she waited for him to tell her she was wrong.

“Seems like she got enough blood into him, and he was close enough to dyin’ that he thinks he’s a vamp. Sun didn’t hurt him, not that I could tell, but he knew what I was right off. And he’s picking up on the family connection.”

“Awesome.” Buffy fell into the chair and stared at the boy on the bed. “What the hell am I going to do with him?”

Spike shrugged. “Nothing till he gets a little stronger. After that….” His voice trailed off and he shrugged again. “No idea, Slayer. Maybe the effects will wear off after he’s had human blood and food running through his system for a full day.”

“Uh huh. And maybe pigs will fly.”  She shook her head and sighed before glancing up at him.  “I’ve got it now, if you want to go… wherever you go to sleep in the daytime.”

He didn’t answer her unspoken question, instead saying, “I doubt Dru will come ‘round during the day. She’s terrified of the sun.” He turned to stare at the worried-looking boy, then walked closer, picking his chin up to study his neck. “Don’t see any sign of accelerated healing,” he mused. “Got a good strong heartbeat…. It’s probably okay to leave him here for the day. Give us a chance to figure out what to do with him.”  He gave the boy a hard look. “Where’s your family?” he asked. The boy’s eyes glazed over and he shuddered. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered.  “The mistress told me she was my new family.  And you…” he added, staring at Spike like a lost puppy. “You feel like family.”

Spike turned away, swearing under his breath, as Buffy moved closer to the boy.  She touched his warm hand and extended her slayer senses before nodding and walking back to Spike.

“He feels human to me,” she whispered. “I’m not getting any vamp vibes off him.”  She turned back to the boy in the bed.  “We’re going to go out for a while,” she said, “but we’ll be back before dark.  You call the nurses if you need anything, ‘kay? And do what they say.”

He looked at Spike for confirmation and at his nod, he said, “Okay, but—”

“No buts, mate. You get strong again and we’ll… well, we’ll worry about anything else later.” He narrowed his eyes at the boy, who, realizing they were leaving him, suddenly looked very young.  “What’s your name?”

“The mistress called me ‘Little Spike’ or ‘Little William’.”

Spike growled at Buffy’s snicker. “Is that your real name?” At the boy’s head shake, he said, “Well, what is it then?”

“B… Bobby.”

“Alright, Bobby. You just be a good boy and do what the nurses tell you until we get back.”

“Can I stop doing what they tell me when you get back?” Spike’s lips twitched at this small sign of independence, but he kept his face stern.

“Depends on what they tell me about your behavior while I’m not here,” he said. He waited by the door for Buffy to reopen the blinds, flooding the room with sunlight, and followed her out of the room.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

“So, what are you going to do now, ‘Big Spike’?”  She smirked at his low growl.  “Don’t you want to get some sleep?”

“Need sleep,” he agreed. “But I need blood more. Don’t suppose you’d stand watch for me while I—”

“No! There’s perfectly good blood in my freezer. You don’t need to steal it from other people who need it.”

“You’re no fun,” he said, only half-seriously.

“Yeah, I get that a lot lately.”

She was quiet for several seconds, the events of the past few years never far from her mind.  He finally nudged her arm and when she turned to look at him, he smiled. “Fancy a ride in a space ship, pet?” he said as they walked toward the elevators.

“I’ve been for a ride in your space ship,” she muttered. “It’s full of bugs. Big bugs.”

“It is,” he agreed, punching the ‘up’ button. “But it can get me from here to your place without setting me on fire.”

“Your ship is here?” She stared around as if expecting to find it hovering outside the window at the end of the hall.

“It will be, when I call them to come pick me up. Come on, Slayer. Live a little.”

“I know I’m going to regret this,” she muttered as they got into the elevator car and Spike pushed the button for the top floor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, they dropped gracefully to the roof of Buffy’s building and watched as Spike’s ship whisked away.

“I can’t believe nobody notices that thing in the daytime.”

“People see what they expect to see, Slayer. You should know that from living in Sunnyhell all those years. They just think they’re seeing a really ugly blimp.” Spike ducked into the shade of an air conditioning unit as his coat began to smolder. “Can we finish this conversation indoors?”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry!” She grabbed the door and pulled it open for him to dash into the dark stairwell. “ Sometimes I forget how flammable you are.”

“I’m probably not as easily set fire to as I was at one time, but I’ve still got a bloody strong sun allergy,” he responded as they started down the stairs.

“I’ll try to remember that,” she said with less seriousness than he expected from her, given the circumstances. “Don’t take Spike out for picnics at the beach.”

“Were you planning to?” he asked. “If you were, you should have warned me to grab my swimming trunks…”

“You have swimming trunks?” She stopped so abruptly he bumped into her back, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady them both.

“Well, not as such, no. But I’d find some. There are certain body parts I definitely wouldn’t want to get singed.”

“I don’t think they make asbestos jock straps,” Buffy snorted. 

“Well there you go, then. No picnics on the beach.”

Neither one mentioned the possibility of having a picnic by moonlight, although the tense silence spoke volumes.  He took his hands off her shoulders, and she continued down the stairs. Spike followed silently, holding the door for her when they reached her floor and waiting patiently while she dug out her key and unlocked it.  There were no windows in the small living room or kitchen, so he came in and went straight to the refrigerator, pulling out the blood packets and setting them in the microwave to thaw.

Buffy went into the bedroom and pulled the curtains across the window, even though the sun did not come directly in until much later in the day.  She glanced at the bed, wishing she’d taken the time to make it, then shrugged and walked back out to the kitchen. Spike had just poured one of the thawed blood packets into a mug and was setting it back in the microwave. He fiddled with the controls before turning to face her.

“I can call the ship back, pet. No need for you to give up—”

“It’s no biggie. I’ve got to go to work in a couple of hours anyway. You can catch some sleep in my bed and pick me up at the shop when it starts to get dark. We’ll go back to the hospital and see how your little brother is doing.”

“Not funny, Slayer.”

“It’s what he is, isn’t it?  You have the same sire—or you would have if she’d finished the job. And he looks enough like you to be a brother.”

Spike carried his mug of blood to the couch and sat down. “I don’t need a brother,” he mumbled, raising the mug to his lips.

“Did you ever… when you were human, did you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Was before the days of antibiotics.” When she frowned, he explained, “No bothers, two sisters. Both died when they were just children.”

“Oh. I’m sorry!” Buffy touched his arm, withdrawing her hand when he raised an eyebrow at her.

“It was a long time ago, love. ‘Twas the way things were then. Mothers didn’t expect all their children to live to grow up.” He took another deep drink. “Probably why my mum spoiled me so much. I was all she had left of a family of five.”

“Spike, that’s terrible! Your poor mother… You were all she had, and then….”

“And then Dru found me,” he finished for her, standing up and going to refill his mug.  “Can we talk about something else now?” He kept his back to her as he readied the rest of his meal.

Buffy stared at his rigid backing, wondering what else she didn’t know about this man who had played so many roles in her life.

“Sure,” she said finally. “I’ve got to get ready to go to work anyway. I’ll just go change, and you can finish your—”

He turned back to look at her. “I’m sorry, Buffy. I—”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I asked.”  She turned away from the eyes that managed to hold so much sadness and anger at the same time.  “I’ll be right back.” She walked into the bedroom and changed into a nicer shirt and better jeans, not bothering to shut the door, confident that Spike would not be standing where he could watch her. A new aspect of his behavior that she was not sure she approved of….

She pulled on a jacket and her comfortable, but stylish, shoes and walked toward the door. As she’d expected, Spike was still in the kitchen, only glancing up when she entered the room.

“I’m going to go now. It’s only a half-day shift, so if you’re there by 5:30 we should be able to get to the hospital before it’s too dark.”

“You go on, pet. I’ll have to meet you there.  I can’t handle that long a walk in the daylight.  I’ll leave here as soon as it’s dusk, but one of us needs to get there before Dru can be out.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense… What the hell is wrong with me? I’m thinking more about spending time with Spike than I am about keeping that boy safe.  Aloud, she said, “I’ll see you later, then,” and walked out the door.

Spike stared at the closed door for a full minute, then sighed and drained his mug of blood.  Shrugging out of his coat, he dropped it on the couch and started toward the bedroom. He hesitated, staring at the sheets, then turned back and sat down to take off his boots.  That done, he walked back into Buffy’s bedroom and fell face down upon the sheets and pillows that were drenched in her scent.