Disclaimer: All the characters you know and love are Joss Whedon’s.
 
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The clock read 11:56 when Buffy finally woke up the next morning. She turned over to see Spike, still sleeping. I still can’t get used to guys who are still there in the morning. Never get tired of that. She was happy to see that the scarring on his face was much less this morning. Guess Slayer blood really does help. The black, burned patches had been replaced by healing pink tissue, and the area around his eye looked much more normal.
 
Spike felt her stirring and opened his eyes. To his delight, he could see some light with his right eye. The vision in that eye was terribly blurry, but better than the day before. “Morning, love,” he said in a voice husky with sleep. Girl wore me out. Never thought a human girl could go that long.
 
“I’ve got to get up,” said Buffy. “My meeting with Dawn is in an hour. Don’t want to be late.” She leaned over and kissed him, adding, “How’s your eye this morning?”
 
“Got light and shadow, so that’s something. Still all blurry though.” He sighed as she got up, immediately missing her warm presence in the bed. He contented himself with watching her move around, heading to the shower. Can’t believe I’m here, he thought. Never thought I would be waking up here. Never in a million years. He closed his eyes again, basking in his good fortune.
 
Buffy hurried through her shower, wondering what she was going to say when she met Dawn. But as her soaped hands ran over her breasts she sighed at the memory of Spike’s hands. Amazing what a century of practice can do. She was still afraid she was rushing into things with him, but a large part of her didn’t care. He helped me. He risked life and limb for me. That means something. She shook herself back into the present, finished rinsing off, and got out.
 
Spike eyed her appreciatively as she dressed and combed out her long blonde hair. It was now half past noon, so she was rushing to get ready. She came over, gave Spike one more kiss and said, “I’ll see you later.”
 
“Say hi to the Nibblet for me,” he responded. Then she turned and left and Spike rolled over, closing his eyes for just a few minutes more.
 
*********************
 
The few minutes turned out to be a few hours, and Spike realized it was nearly four o’clock when he woke up. He sat up, scratching his head and yawning. The time registered on his consciousness. Four o’clock. Shouldn’t she be back by now? Puzzling, he went and showered, then went downstairs to find something to eat. As he drank his blood, he found himself growing a bit concerned, although he wasn’t sure why. She’s the slayer. She probably just lost track of time talking to her sis.
 
As the minutes kept creeping by, Spike found himself increasingly anxious. Finally after a half hour he decided to give a call down to Social Services. At least he could find out when she left. He rummaged around for the phone book, found the number, and called, asking to speak to Ms. Davis. He paced while the call transferred, until he heard a voice say, “This is Ms. Davis, how may I help you?”
 
Putting on his best proper Victorian gentlemen accent, he responded, “Yes, good afternoon. My name is Mr. Pratt and I am a financial advisor. Ms. Summers was supposed to meet with me this afternoon after a visit to your offices and she never arrived. I was a bit concerned – she seemed highly interested in our meeting and I was quite surprised when she did not arrive.”
 
“Oh dear. I’m afraid Ms. Summers is in the hospital,” Ms Davis answered.
 
What?? Making an effort to maintain his façade, he proclaimed, “Good lord. What happened, if I may inquire?”
 
“She was here to see her sister and she collapsed. She stood up to greet her sister and just passed out on the floor. We had to call an ambulance for the poor thing. Just fainted dead away with no warning.”
 
Spike clenched the phone so hard it was in danger of shattering under the force. Struggling against rage he said, “Oh dear. I see. Well I guess I will have to reschedule her appointment for when she is well. Thank you so much, madam.”
 
“You’re welcome, Mr. Pratt,” she replied, and hung up.
 
Spike growled with frustration and worry. Is she ill? Was it some after effect? He grabbed his duster, and was about to dash out the door when the phone rang. Hoping that it was Buffy, or someone with news of her, he snatched up the phone. “Hello?”
 
“Spike, it’s Tara,” came the reply. “Is Buffy there?”
 
“She’s in the hospital,” Spike explained. “Apparently she passed out when she was at Social Services to see Dawn this afternoon. I was on my way to the hospital when you called.”
 
“Oh no,” gasped Tara. “I… Spike, I think it was Willow.”
 
Again Spike’s vampire strength threatened to mangle the phone. “What do you mean, it was Willow? What the fuck did she do?”
 
“I think she cast a spell on Buffy. She wasn’t here when I got home from class, but a bunch of books were out, and she had been burning herbs. I think she was trying to heal her pain or something.”
 
Spike was furious. “Find that bitch and get her to undo whatever the hell she did, or so help me God, chip or no chip I will kick her ass. If you need me, I’ll be at the hospital.” He slammed the phone down, threw his duster over his head, and dashed out of the house, making for the nearest sewer.
 
Spike dashed at full speed through the tunnels and sewers, emerging through a manhole in the parking garage under the hospital. He fled upstairs to the information desk. “My friend was brought in here a few hours ago,” he said to the nurse. “Buffy Summers?”
 
“Are you related to her?” asked the nurse. She was a bit taken aback by the mass of healing scar tissue on his face. Geez, what happened to you?
 
“No, but we’re very close. She doesn’t have any relations nearby.”
 
The nurse hesitated for a moment. She wasn’t really supposed to give out information to non family members, but no one at all had inquired about the girl. Finally she said, “Room 213, down the hall, up one flight.”
 
“Thanks,” Spike said before taking off in the right direction. He reached the room and carefully opened the door. Buffy was there, breathing, heart beating, but unconscious. He moved over to her side, reaching out to put a hand to her forehead and stroke her hair. “It’s me love. What happened to you?” he murmured.
 
A doctor came in soon afterward, surprised to see someone besides his patient. “Are you a friend of Ms. Summers?” he asked.
 
“Yes. What’s wrong with her? Will she be alright?” Spike’s concern was evident in his voice.
 
“That’s the problem. There seems to be nothing wrong with her. She bumped her head a bit when she hit the floor, but that’s minor. We can’t find any reason for this coma.”
 
Oh, there’s a reason alright. And if that reason doesn’t fix this I am going to rip her throat out. Forcing his demon down, Spike asked “Can I stay here with her?”
 
“Yes, of course,” said the doctor. “Talk to her. Sometimes that helps.”
 
Spike sat down next to the bed and took Buffy’s hand in his. “Need you back here, Slayer,” he whispered. “The Nibblet and I, we both need you.” He kept murmuring to her in soothing tones, wondering if Willow was going to be able to fix the mess this time.
 
***************
 
After nearly 2 hours of sitting there, seeing no change and talking himself hoarse, Spike heard the door open. The Scoobies walked in, looking worried. Willow’s face was nearly as red as her hair. “Spike, how is she?” Willow began, coming over to Buffy’s bedside.
 
Spike vamped out, grabbed her shoulders, and got within inches of her face. “What. Did. You. Do.” he growled, flinching a bit as his chip fired.
 
Anya and Tara jumped a bit at his tone. Xander pushed Spike back saying, “Hey, back off! She was just trying to help.”
 
Spike turned on him. “Help? You call this helping? You lot have a really interesting definition of that word.” He turned back to Willow. “She’s in a fucking coma thanks to your help. She passed out in front of Dawn and the social worker, which I’m sure is going to help get Dawn back home. Couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?
 
“It was supposed to be a healing spell,” Willow tried to explain. “I just wanted to help her with the pain…”
 
“Well I’m sure she’s feeling no pain right now, I’ll grant you that,” Spike spat out. Willow flushed even further. “Now can you get this spell reversed, or not?” His yellow eyes glared at her with laser sharp intensity.
 
Tara tried to defuse the situation. “We can break it, Spike. We just need to do a little ritual.”
 
“Then get on it already.” He kept up the angry glare.
 
Willow and Tara lit a couple candles and sprinkled herbs around the bed. They linked hands and chanted in some strange tongue for a few minutes. The air crackled a bit with their magic power. Spike’s face slipped back into its human form as he watched Buffy’s eyelids flutter open.
 
“Spike? Where am I?” she asked, confused. She sat up and looked around, realizing she was in a hospital room. “What happened?”
 
“You’re in hospital, love. You passed out at the social service office.”
 
Buffy rubbed her forehead. “I remember. It was like being pulled somewhere…” Buffy’s eyes widened as she realized what it had felt like. Her eyes narrowed again, focusing on Willow. “It was you, wasn’t it?” she asked coldly.
 
“I’m so sorry, Buffy,” Willow began. “I only wanted to help…”
 
Her response was cut off by Buffy launching herself from the bed and tackling Willow onto the floor. “Fucking bitch! I told you to leave me alone!” Buffy was beside herself with rage. She shook Willow until her teeth rattled. Jumping forward while the others were still in shock, Spike grabbed her from behind and pulled her off.
 
“Enough, Slayer,” he said sharply. “Don’t want you doing something you’ll regret later.” She struggled a moment in his grasp, then subsided. Spike turned her around and held her to his chest as she shuddered with emotion.
 
Tara and Xander helped Willow up from the floor. She was seeing stars, and she looked completely shocked by the turn of events. Willow started to sputter, “Buffy I…”
 
“Get out, all of you,” snarled Buffy from within Spike’s arms. “If you don’t leave, I am not going to be responsible for what happens to you.”
 
Tears started running down Willow’s face as she realized the full consequences of her spell. The pure hatred in Buffy’s voice, directed at her, frightened and shamed her. Biting her lip, she let Anya lead her out of the room. Xander paused at the door, turning to say something, anything to make the situation better. Buffy saw him and said, “No. Don’t. There is nothing you can say, Xander. Nothing. This was…” She searched for the right words. “I feel violated. Betrayed. She broke her word, and broke my trust. I need you all to leave. Now.”
 
Xander deflated visibly, then turned to go. Tara started to follow, then took a piece of paper out of her bag. “B…Buffy? I did a locator spell. This is the address where Dawn’s at.” Trembling slightly, she held out the paper. Buffy took it, still clasped in Spike’s arms. “Thank you,” Buffy whispered. Tara nodded, collected the candles, and then turned to go.
 
Buffy buried her face in Spike’s shirt as he stroked her back soothingly. “Thanks for stopping me,” she said finally. “I think I could have killed her if you didn’t.”
 
“It’s ok, love,” he soothed. “Not like you didn’t have your reasons.”
 
“I’m the Slayer. I’m supposed to hunt demons, not beat on humans.”
 
He pulled her chin up to look her in the eye. “You’re human too, pet. You’ve gone through an awful lot recently. I think you can be forgiven the occasional outburst.” He stroked her hair and kissed her gently.
 
Their kiss was interrupted by a nurse coming in. She stopped as if she hit a wall. “You’re awake!” she said, amazed. “How? When did this happen? Let me get the doctor!” The nurse bustled out again.
 
Spike smiled. “Guess you’re a modern medical miracle, pet.”
 
“I just need to get out of here and see Dawn,” said Buffy. The doctor came in at that point, as astonished as the nurse had been.
 
“Ms. Summers! How are you feeling?” he asked. Then noticing Spike he added, “And you are?”
 
“William,” Spike said, not wanting to arouse any suspicions with his usual moniker. “I’m a friend of Buffy’s.”
 
“So, can I leave now?” Buffy asked.
 
“I’d really like to keep you for one more night for observation. I have no explanation for what happened to you. We need to make sure it isn’t something we’re missing.”
 
“But I’m fine!” Buffy protested.
 
“Buffy,” said Spike, interrupting. “Look, you need to get a clean bill of health to make sure the social services folks are happy. Won’t hurt you to let the doctor look you over.”
 
Buffy saw his point. If she insisted on leaving against medical advice, it might reflect badly on her. Sighing, she said, “Alright. If you insist. Test away.”
 
Spike leaned over and whispered, “Give me that address, pet. I’ll go find Dawn and explain things to her.” Buffy looked up at him gratefully and slipped him the piece of paper from Tara. “See you later?”
 
“Thanks Spi…William,” she replied, kissing him lightly. They locked eyes for a moment, then Spike took his leave.
 
TBC