Chapter Eleven
 
Buffy was walking to the Magic Box when she felt the warning tingles on her neck, followed immediately by knowledge of who was causing those tingles and where they were coming from.
 
“Ooooh, for some silly reason, I think I’ll cut through this dark alley. What could go wrong?”  Buffy’s voice was deliberately high-pitched and vapid as she walked into the alley and tried to adjust her sight to the darkness there.
 
“A vampire could grab you and have his way with you.” Spike’s voice crooned in her ear as she felt his arms tighten around her.  She giggled and leaned back against him.
 
“Is that a threat or a promise?”  She wriggled her butt against him, smiling when there was an immediate physical response.  “Ooooh! What is that?”
 
“You wicked minx.” He turned her around to face him. “Who would have thought Heaven’s Chosen One could be such a little—”
 
“Ah, ah. Don’t say anything you’ll regret. ‘Minx’ and ‘bint’ are bad enough names to call me.”
 
He laughed and kissed the nose on her indignantly screwed up face. “You don’t even know what they are, do you? Could be calling you a saint, or an angel or something.”
 
“I’m going to ask Giles. He’ll tell me, and then you’ll be in big trouble.”
 
“Mmmmm.” He nuzzled the side of her neck where it was covered by a silk scarf. “You’re not still hiding my mark?”
 
She shrugged. “It’s all gone. I’m just trying to get everybody used to seeing me with a scarf... just in case....”
 
His eyes lit up. “In case you want me to do it again?”
 
“No! I dunno. Maybe? It’s not like the last one wasn’t gone in a day. Slayer healing is my friend.”
 
He sighed and loosened his grip. “I suppose that’s so. Damn shame it is.”
 
“What? That they aren’t going to be permanent?” Buffy’s narrowed eyes were easy for Spike to see in spite of the low light.
 
“You’re right, Slayer. Not my place to be marking you, is it? Sorry.” He dropped his arms completely and stepped away.
 
“No. It isn’t. But not just for the reason you think,” she said, turning to leave the alley. He fell into step beside her.
 
“What then?”
 
She frowned and bit her lip. “Because you should trust me and... and trust me. Without having to do something like that. It makes me feel like you think you need to make sure everybody knows I’m....” She allowed her voice to trail off, reluctant to finish.
 
“Make sure everybody knows you mine?” he said. “Is that what you think this is about? Making it harder for you to be with somebody else?”
 
“Isn’t it? Isn’t that what marking me means? That you want everybody to know I’m not available because I belong to you? Which, just so you know, is not my thing. I don’t ‘belong’ to anybody, except me. And my mom. And maybe Dawn...”
 
“Never thought different, love. I know every day or night you give me is a gift. If I dusted tomorrow, this still would have been the happiest week of my life. The marking isn’t me telling you I don’t trust you, it’s just the demon’s way of telling any other vamps to keep their teeth to themselves.”
 
He stopped her and turned her around to face him. “I’m pretty sure a human love bite – no matter how new a hickey it might be – isn’t going to have the same effect as if you had a real mark on you.  But that’s the intent behind it.” When she raised an eyebrow, he added somewhat sheepishly, “Well, that and you taste so bloody good I could—”
 
“Stop right there,” she said, putting her hand over his mouth. “And do I even want to know what you mean by a ‘real mark’?” He licked her palm until she giggled and took the hand away.
 
“I think you know full well what I mean by that, Buffy. And I’m not talking about fading scars like you have from those other wankers that bit you. I’m talking about areal ‘love bite’. The kind that leaves a permanent mark any vampire can recognize.”
 
Buffy shook her head and began to walk out of the alley, confident he was following her. “Most guys give their girlfriends jewelry — this one wants to put more scars on my poor neck.”  She was muttering to herself, but knew Spike could hear her.  He caught up and took her hand, laughing softly.
 
“You want jewelry, I’ll give you jewelry, pet. Just say the word.”
 
She shrugged. “I’m just saying, we’ve got different ideas of how to show we’re exclusive.” She wasn’t watching him and missed the way his face lit up at her words. He didn’t pursue it, just basked in the feeling that Buffy thought they were exclusive.
 
“Where are we headed, Slayer? Magic Box? Off to fight evil?”
 
“Not yet. I promised Mom we’d come by for dinner tonight. Since I found you before we got to the Magic Box, we’ll just go straight home.”
 
When he didn’t respond, she stopped and gave him a curious look. “Is that okay? You don’t mind, do you?”
 
“Of course I don’t mind,” he managed to get out around the lump in his throat. “Just a bit gobsmacked, that’s all.”
 
Buffy looked uncomfortable. “Well, it’s not like I’m planning to walk in and make some big announcement about... anything. But she knows I broke up with Riley and I think she’s worried about you.” She glared at him. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t make it a big deal.”
 
“Alright. Not a big deal, just the Slayer bringing her friend the vampire home for supper.”
 
“Exactly.”
 
Spike rolled his eyes and kept pace with her as she marched in the direction of her home.
 
XXXXXXX
 
 
“We’re here!”  Buffy frowned at the silence that greeted her.  “Mom? Dawn?”
 
“Upstairs, love. I can hear one of them.”
 
“Huh! Okay, I’ll be right back.” She ran lightly up the stairs and into her mother’s bedroom.  “Mom? What’s going on?”  Joyce was lying in the darkened room, her arm over her eyes.  She sat up and gave a groggy glance around the room.
 
“Oh, Buffy. I’m so sorry. I had such a headache, and I took some pain meds, and I forgot all about...” Joyce clenched her head and moaned.
 
“That’s it. We’re on our way to the ER. Let’s go.” She looked at Joyce, who was sitting up, but weaving back and forth.  “Spike! Get up here!”
 
He was at the entrance to the room almost before she’d finished speaking.
 
“We’ve got to get Mom to the ER. Help me carry her.”
 
“Got it, pet.” He stepped into the room and scooped Joyce up as if she weighed nothing. “Go get the car keys.”
 
Buffy grabbed her mother’s purse and ran down the stairs ahead of them, running into Dawn when she got to the bottom.
 
“What’s going on? Did Mom have another fainting spell?”
 
“A what?” Buffy whirled on her. “She’s been fainting? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t somebody tell me?”
 
Joyce spoke up, sounding much stronger as she motioned for Spike to put her down.
 
“I was planning to, Buffy. It didn’t seem to be that important. I saw a doctor, and he gave me pills for the headaches. I have an appointment to see a specialist next week.”
 
“But you....”
 
“I’m sure it’s nothing.  You just caught me while I was still loopy from the pills.”
 
Spike was frowning as he listened to Joyce’s heartbeat and tried to analyze what he was smelling. Her scent was off just enough to make him shake his head at Buffy.
 
“Something’s not right,” he said.
 
Joyce glared at him.  “How would you know?”
 
“I’m sure you’d rather not have details, Joyce. Just trust an old predator when he tells you there’s something wrong.”
 
“Come on, Mom. Spike can drive. We’re all going to the hospital. Now.”
 
Over Joyce’s protests that she needed to begin cooking dinner, they hustled her into the SUV for the short drive to Sunnydale’s unusually busy hospital. Once there, when the staff learned that she was scheduled for an MRI the following week, they took her away to have it done immediately while they tried to reach the doctor.
 
Buffy and Dawn sat on the uncomfortable chairs outside the Emergency Room’s treatment area, their hands clenched together and their faces pinched with fear. Spike prowled the area, trying to suppress his growls so as not to be thrown out for frightening the other patients waiting to be seen. He came close to revealing his true nature when a disheveled-looking man dressed in an odd costume was brought in, babbling to himself.  The man took one look at Dawn and began to scream and shout.
 
Fortunately, most of what he was saying seemed incomprehensible to those watching.  However, Buffy was able to catch at least one reference to a “Key” and she exchanged frightened glances with Spike.
 
“Come on, Bit. Let’s get you out of here.  I’ll take you for food and then drop you at home and come back for Buffy... and your mum.”
 
“What? I’m not leaving Mom. I’m staying with Buffy.”
 
“No you’re not,” Buffy said, squeezing her arm tightly. “You need to leave with Spike. I’ll explain later.”
 
Before she could argue again, Dawn met the eyes of the now-restrained stranger and realized why he was staring at her and what he was saying. She gasped and leapt to her feet, grabbing Spike’s outstretched hand and following him out the door. 
 
XXXXXXXXXX
 
 
Buffy turned her best Slayer glare on the strange-looking man, but he paid no attention to her as he was manhandled out of the lobby and off to the psych ward. 
 
“Ms. Summers?” 
 
The doctor’s voice brought her spinning around to demand, “How’s my mother? What’s wrong with her?”
 
He frowned at Buffy’s rudeness, but answered her questions as best he could.
 
“As we suspected, your mother has a growth on her brain. It’s still fairly small, and probably not malignant. Of course we won’t know that until we get it out. Which we are planning to do first thing tomorrow morning.”
 
“M... malignant?”
 
“Probablynot malignant, Ms Summers.” His expression softened.  “I suggest you go home and get some rest. You could pack a small bag for your mother so that she has her own toiletries when she is recovering from her surgery.”
 
“Can I see her?  Before I leave? I need to see her.”
 
“I’ll let you peek into the room, but please do not try to wake her. She’s on pretty heavy meds for the pain and could use the rest.”
 
As they walked through the swinging doors and down what seemed to be endless corridors, they encountered a young man in scrubs coming the other way. He paused when he got to them.
 
“Ah, Ben,” the doctor said. “This is Mrs. Summers’ daughter. Will you please escort her to the room so that she can see we are taking good care of her mother and it is safe to leave her here?”
 
Buffy blushed at his wry observation, but didn’t apologize for her pushy behavior.
 
“Thank you, Doctor—” 
 
“Rogers” he replied. And this is Doctor—”
 
The younger man held out his hand for Buffy to shake.
 
“You can call me Ben, Ms. Summers. I’ll be helping Dr. Rogers with your mother’s care.”
 
“I’m Buffy,” she said, smiling at him as best she could and shaking his hand. “Can I see my mother now?”
 
“Of course. Just follow me.”  He smiled and led her down another corridor where she could peer through a window to see her mother, eyes closed, and with tubes and wires running from her body to several machines.  At Buffy’s gasp, Ben touched her arm and tried to reassure her.
 
“Those are there to help us monitor her vital signs,” he said. “She’ll be all set for the surgeon tomorrow and the pre-op stuff will go very quickly. The next time you see her, she’ll be out of the recovery room and most of those machines will have been removed. “  He smiled at Buffy and continued, “Once she’s out of surgery and as soon as we can be confident that she’s stable, most of those things can go away.  She’ll probably still have an IV, just to keep her hydrated and to provide meds, and something to help us track her blood pressure.  But there’s really nothing to worry about... she’s going to be fine.”
 
Buffy gave him a weak smile in return, surprised when his eyes grew wide and he said, “Oh no! Not now!”  Without another word to her, he ran down the hall and disappeared into a janitor’s closet. Buffy frowned at his sudden departure, but shrugged and turned to look at her mother one last time. A sound behind her brought her head around just in time to see the last person she wanted to find near her mother ducking into a stairwell.
 
Her moment of indecision about whether to follow Glory — or “Glorificus” as they had learned her minions called her — or remain where she was to protect her mother, meant by the time she got to the stairwell and began to leap downward, Glory was long gone.  Buffy stood outside the fire door, swearing and searching the darkness for any hint as to where the hell god had gone.  She briefly thought about running back upstairs to see if the young doctor was all right, but decided to go looking for Glory instead.
 
“He’s in a hospital. If she killed him, there’s nothing I can do about it except try to stop her from killing anybody else, and if she didn’t, he’s in the right place to get help.”
 
Nodding her head at her rationalization, she began jogging in the direction of her home, keeping her eyes moving around for any sign of Glory or her scabby minions. She was only halfway home when she found Spike battling several of the ugly little creatures.
 
“You have to take their heads off!” she said, as she grabbed one off his back and threw it against a car, setting off the alarm.
 
“Know that, don’t I?” he growled, snapping the neck of the one in front of him. “Was a bit outnumbered here.”
 
With two strong people in front of them, the minions that weren’t unconscious or dead began to retreat, only to be greeted by an ear-piercing shriek.
 
“Where are you going? I told you to bring him to me!”
 
Glory waded into her cowering soldiers, brushing them aside like they were blades of grass.
 
“You, vampire!” She pointed to Spike.  “You come with me.”
 
“You’re not my type,” Spike sneered as she advanced on him. Buffy stepped in front of him and held up her hand.
 
“Leave him alone. He’s not your damn key, and he doesn’t know where it is.”
 
“The Slayer defending a vampire.  What an odd arrangement.” Glory shrugged and knocked Buffy away with one arm.  She grabbed Spike as he leaped at her, snarling in fury.  Glory started to walk away, holding Spike out where he couldn’t bite her, only to find Buffy back on her feet and blocking the way.
 
Taking advantage of Glory’s need to use both hands to hold Spike, Buffy hit her several times, smiling when the she was rocked back on her feet. Glory dropped Spike to the ground, ordering her still-cowering minions to “Hold him!” as she began to exchange punches with Buffy.
 
Spike shook off the minions and jumped on Glory’s back, putting his teeth into her neck and biting as hard as could.
 
In the meantime, the blaring car alarm had attracted attention to the battle, and two police cars came roaring up the street, siren’s wailing.  The minions began to scatter as Glory shook off Buffy and Spike. She stepped in front of the on-coming squad cars, then screamed in rage as she shook all over. Tires squealed as the police tried to keep from killing the half-dressed man now standing in front of them.
 
“Let’s go, pet,” Spike said, grabbing Buffy’s arm. “Really don’t fancy trying to talk out way out of this one.”
 
“They’re Sunnydale cops,” Buffy said. “They know better than to get between me and... whatever.”  She frowned. “Where did Glory go?  And what is Ben doing here?”
 
Spike gaped at her. “You didn’t see it? And what’s a ‘Ben’?”
 
As they jogged away from the scene, Buffy kept looking back over her shoulder as Ben gestured while trying to explain to the police what he was doing in the middle of the street in his underwear.
 
“We need to talk to Giles. I need more information about that bitch. The Council is supposed to be sending us what they know about her.”
 
“I might have all the information I need,” Spike muttered, spitting out the remaining blood in his mouth and ignoring Buffy’s questioning look. “But let’s see what the watcher knows.”