Adult-FanFiction.org : Buffy

Humanity	By : QueenB Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Angel(us)/Buffy > Angel(us)/Buffy Views: 4278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Spike lay on his bed in the hotel room and stared at the clock. He briefly considered asking room service to send up another bottle of the high-quality vodka he’d been drinking but decided he’d probably had enough. He didn’t want his first meeting with Buffy in L.A. to be clouded by the fumes of alcohol. Not too much alcohol, anyway. He’d also been chain-smoking endlessly since he’d gotten up.
It was only a few short hours to sunset but the time seemed to drag interminably. He never used to be like this. Time was, he’d sleep all day through and wake up only minutes before sunset. His vampiric senses would tell him unerringly when the sun was disappearing from the sky.
But lately he’d taken to listening for Buffy’s footsteps, Buffy’s heartbeat, Buffy’s voice. Like a siren’s call, those things had pulled him out of his undead slumbers more surely than the track of the sun across the sky. The many weeks she’d avoided him were that harder to endure than he’d ever admit.
Well, there was going to be no avoiding him this time. He’d march right up to the steps of that stinking hotel and confront her and that wanker Angel and….and then what?
Right, Spike, let’s set up this little scenario, shall we? There Angel will be with his patented soulful aren’t-I-the-great-suffering-ponce looks in his grand hotel with over one-hundred-plus rooms, his band of Merry Men backing him up and there you’ll be with what? A bouquet of roses? You’re not going to win her that way. Git.
There it was, that nagging inner voice once more chipping away at his self-esteem. But it did have a point. If he was going to present himself as the better man, he had to get Buffy onto his own turf. That would give him a tactical advantage. The question was how.
He glanced at the clock--another two hours to sunset. He shook his head and lit another cigarette.
__________
“Buffy, don’t you just love these shoes? They are so cute! And I got Dawn the perfect bag to accessorize with them. You should see the little jacket she got in aquamarine...” Buffy had been listening to Cordelia, Fred and Dawn prattle on about their shopping spree for the last half hour. Actually, she’d only been half-listening. Her patience and her interest had run out at about the same time. Still she did her best to cover her boredom.
“…then Cordelia took us out for lattes. Ah thought the flavor was a little yucky so Ah had iced tea instead. There’s this place that has over twenty flavors of tea, including something called Persimmon Chicory, if you can believe it. So what did you and Angel do all day?”
Buffy blinked at Fred’s abrupt change of subject but recovered quickly. “Hmm? Oh, nothing much. Looked in on Connor, read over some old manuscripts with Wesley. He wanted me to tell him everything I could remember about Glory. He’s really fascinated about the fact that I faced down the bunch of jerks the Watcher’s Council sent over from England to ‘evaluate’ my performance as a Slayer. Well, not so much fascinated as tickled pink. Do the English get tickled? And, if they do, is it pink?”
“They do if they’re Wesley,” Cordelia commented while rummaging through another shopping bag for more store-bought goodies. “So what’s happening in dear old Sunnydale? Dawn tells me Xander’s getting married to some ex-demon girl--what’s her name? Anya?”
Buffy nodded, curious as to how Cordelia took this news. The seer tried on another pair of shoes, inspecting them critically. “Well, I guess she’s really the best he could do, considering the fact that he’s living on a Hellmouth and normal women were always in short supply.” She brightened as a thought occurred to her. “Do you think she’ll have me as a bridesmaid? Because I’ve got a perfect little outfit that I’m just dying to wear.”
Buffy, Fred and Dawn exchanged amused glances. “Ah don’t think so, Cordelia. Bridesmaids are traditionally among the bride’s friends and she’s the one who picks out the dresses.”
Dawn chimed in, “That’s right and they’re usually some hideous color like lime green or lavender.”
“I know that but you said she’s been a demon for eleven hundred years or so. How is she to know human customs in the business of weddings? I’m sure if you guys gloss over the details, she’ll be none the wiser.”
“Forget it, Cordelia. She’s been pouring over wedding magazines and making plans for weeks now. Don’t even bother trying to trip her up on the details.”
Buffy cast a warning look at Dawn. “Hang on, Dawn, we don’t even know if Anya and Xander are going to be inviting anybody from here.” She turned back to Cordelia. “No offense but we know you guys must have a busy schedule, what with fighting evil, dealing with your visions--not to mention the fact that we couldn’t invite Angel. I mean, the service is taking place in the daytime. You guys wouldn’t want to come without him, right?”
“Mr. Broody? Of course not! We would so miss his presence at the ceremony. What would we do without him there to suck the energy right out of the room?”
The other three women giggled, though Buffy tried to maintain a stern expression. “It’s not his fault if Angel is socially challenged. He probably doesn’t get invited to weddings a lot.”
“When he did, he probably ate all the guests.” Fred’s blunt statement threw a momentary damper on the conversation.
Then Dawn, in an attempt to get the talk rolling again, asked, “Do you think she’ll remember to throw the bouquet? That’s my favorite part.”
“Dawn, you’re way too young to be thinking about getting married, so what do you care?”
Dawn huffed with exaggerated patience. “I know that, Buffy. It’s just so much fun watching other women scrambling for it.” This time the silence was of a different nature as the women got lost in their private thoughts.
Cordelia said dreamily, “I used to think I’d marry a stockbroker or at least an…..AHHHHH!” Cordelia clutched her head, collapsing to the floor. Fred dropped down beside her as the other two stared in shock. Buffy was the first to recover.
“Dawn, get a glass of water. Fred, is there a bottle of….”
Fred nodded, holding onto Cordelia as she thrashed on the floor. “Yeah, I think Angel keeps some in his room.”“
Buffy raced down the hall and rapped on Angel’s door. “Angel! Wake up!” she whispered harshly. She hoped his sharp hearing would pick up on her voice. She didn’t want to yell and wake up Connor.
Angel pulled the door open. “Buffy, what is it?”
She pushed her way past him, continuing to speak in a whisper. “Where’s your medicine cabinet?”
He looked after her in confusion. “I don’t have a medicine cabinet. Vampires don’t get sick, remember?”
“Well, you’re working with human colleagues, one of who gets skull-thumping visions.”
“Cordelia’s having a vision?” Angel threw on a robe; Buffy realized he must have just woken up.
She nodded and scanned the room. Then she knelt and yanked open the nightstand drawer. “Do you have anything in here? Fred said you had aspirin.”
Angel darted across the room. “Buffy, wait!”
Too late. Lying in the drawer next to numerous bottles of aspirin lay the bottle of Mohra blood. Angel pushed the drawer shut while Buffy sat back and glared at him, white-faced and tight-lipped with fury. “Buffy, look, I can….”
“Explain? Yeah, I’ll bet you can. But it’ll have to wait. Cordelia needs help.” She pulled the drawer open again and took out one of the aspirin bottles. She exited the room without another word or a backward look. Angel hesitated a moment then slowly walked after her.
He found the four of them perched on Dawn’s hotel bed as Cordelia sipped at the water. “You need to get out to a warehouse on Bellflower Boulevard and Carson Street. I saw a man with a shark. That’s where they took him.”
Angel glanced at Fred who gave him a puzzled shrug. “Cordelia, are you sure? What would a shark be doing on dry land?”
The seer rolled her eyes then winced as if even that simple movement gave her pain. “No, I mean a shark in a business suit. He’s there with a whole lot of nasty demons with him. They were beating the crap out of some blonde in a leather coat.”
“Spike!” Buffy and Dawn both yelled at once.
Fred looked more baffled than ever. “Spike? That vampire you told me about who was able to hit you? What’s he doing in L.A.?”
“I’ll give you two guesses,” Buffy muttered grimly.
Angel asked, “Buffy, how’d he know you were coming here?”
Buffy said nothing but the look she directed at Dawn spoke volumes. The long-haired teen shuffled her feet. “Okay, I may have said something to him about the trip but I didn’t know he would follow you.”
Buffy heaved an exasperated sigh. “Really, Dawn, you had no clue what he would do? What part of ‘obsessed stalker’ do you not get?”
Cordelia stretched herself back gingerly on Dawn’s bed and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe the Powers That Be would send me a vision about the chipped beef that is Spike. Can’t we just ignore it until after they kill him?”
“Works for me,” Buffy replied brightly.
“Buffy, how can you say that? After everything he’s done for you?” Dawn protested.
“I know he’s done a fine job of protecting you, Dawn. But whenever he’s around me, it’s all pathetic attempts at affection and constant comments on the level of ‘Buffy, I love you’ and ‘Buffy, a man can change’ and ‘Come on, Slayer, you want me and you know it’ crap! And now I try to get away for one lousy weekend and once again I trip over little Sparky.”
“Sparky?” Angel’s lips twitched. “Sounds like one of Xander’s attempts at wit.”
Buffy grinned back at him. “It is. Though since Spike’s entanglement with a golem, he’s going with new ones like ‘John Boy’ and ‘Jed Clampett.’” Then she remembered she was angry with him and her eyes hardened.
Cordelia’s eyes flew open when she heard that. “A golem? He slept with that thing Willow conjured up? He just has the worst choice in girlfriends, doesn’t he?”
“And here we were thinking that Xander was the king of bad relationships,” Buffy deadpanned. She smiled innocently at the glare Cordelia threw her way.
Dawn snapped, “Could we save the picking-on-Spikefest for later? He’s in trouble, guys, and the vision means you have to rescue him, right?”
Buffy sighed again and turned to Cordelia. “You said you saw a shark in a suit? I think I know who we’re up against. Spike owed some guy forty Siamese kittens to pay off a debt.”
Fred blinked. “Kittens?”
“Yeah, I don’t get it, either, although Anya says they’re quite a demon delicacy.”
Cordelia shuddered and stretched onto the bed again. “All right, I think I’ve heard all I need to know about the eating habits of demons. You guys go if you’re going.”
“I can’t,” Buffy stated flatly. Seeing Dawn opening her mouth to protest again, she hastily amended, “It’s not because I don’t want to help--though I really don’t--it’s that I literally can’t. Before I left Sunnydale, I had Willow cast an avoidance spell on me. Spike can’t get anywhere near me.”
“Does the spell prevent you from getting near him?” Fred asked.
Buffy paused; that thought hadn’t occurred to her. “You know, I never asked. It was just meant to keep Spike at arm’s length. I’m not sure how it works from my end.”
“It’s not your problem, anyway, Buffy. It’s ours. Cordelia gets these visions, then Wesley, Gunn and I go out and take care of things. You’re not meant to be involved.”
Buffy nodded reluctantly. Now that she wasn’t obligated to go help Spike, she felt a curious reluctance to let Angel run off and help him without her. She wanted to fight by his side just as they used to before he left Sunnydale over two-and-a-half years ago. God, had it really been that long?
As Angel got ready to leave, Buffy added, “Something you should know, Angel. The last time I faced this guy, he was with a bunch of vampires. They were pretty much pushovers, just your basic miniony types.”
Cordelia shook her head then winced at another flare of pain. “I didn’t see any other vampires in my vision. These were big demons, huge and muscle-bound. There looked to be about eight or nine, I’m not sure.”
Buffy bounced up and brushed past Angel. “Let’s go, then.”
Angel ran after her as she pelted downstairs. “Where are you going, Buffy? I told you we can handle it.”
She walked over to the weapons cabinet and started pulling out some sharp swords, carefully testing the edges. “I know. And if it were just a few demons or run-of-the-mill vamps, I’d be perfectly happy to let you deal with this on your own. But you heard what Cordelia said. And these guys are here because of Spike and he’s here because of me. Besides, I might as well help while I’m here.”
“I thought you came to L.A. to relax.”
“So did I but this is definitely not turning out to be the weekend I planned. And I’m not staying here worrying about what may happen to you when I can help.”
“I don’t want you risking your life needlessly…”
Buffy swung around, hands on her hips, eyes flaring in anger. “Newsflash, Angel! That’s what I do! Slayer, remember? And it’s never needless when you’re protecting the ones you--care about.”
She took a steadying breath. “There you go, trying to play the mother hen again. Connor is the baby here--not me. You know, Spike may be a romantic lapdog but at least he accepts me for who I am…and I never thought I’d be defending Spike to you, of all people.” She swept her eyes over him from head to toe. “By the way, don’t you think you should be changing now?”
“Changing what? Oh, good lord.” Wesley had emerged from his office and stopped short, appalled at the sight of Angel in a robe with Buffy.
Angel was suddenly aware of the picture he must present. “Wesley, this isn’t what it looks like.”
Buffy smothered a giggle. “It’s okay, Wesley. Cordelia’s had a vision.”
“Is she all right?”
Buffy had finally settled on a couple of swords and an impressive axe. “She’ll be fine. Fred and Dawn are taking care of her. There are several demons holding Spike in a warehouse. One of them’s a loan shark.”
“Did you say ‘loan shark,’ Buffy?”
“That’s right. Spike owes him some Siamese kittens.” Wesley blinked for a moment. “It’s a demon thing. Don’t ask.”
“I…see. Well, here’s a rather radical thought, Angel. Instead of rushing off to fight, why don’t we simply pay them money?”
Buffy hefted the axe. “Oddly enough, I suggested that to Shark Guy when I first met him in Sunnydale. But, nope, he’s really got a jones for kittens.”
Wesley straightened his shoulders. “Right. I’ll get Gunn, pack some more weapons and Angel, you can--change.”
__________
Minutes later, Angel rushed out to the car, halting in irritation at the sight of Buffy firmly ensconced in the backseat. “I thought I told you to stay out of this.”
Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. “Yeah, I told the others what you said. We had a good laugh at that.”
Angel said, “Wesley…”
“Angel, you want her out, you try removing her.” The vampire hesitated then slid into the seat beside Buffy with an ill grace.
The drive to the warehouse began in taut silence with everyone aware of the tension from the backseat. “So. Were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” At her hostile look, a look of comprehension came over his face. “Oh. You mean…yes, I guess I would have told you eventually.”
“When? After I’d died again?”
Angel stared ahead in mounting frustration. “Look, Buffy, I’ve given you my reasons for not using it, so what would have been the point of telling you about it?”
“Aha! So you weren’t going to tell me! I should have known!”
Gunn looked back over the front seat. “What are you two talking about?”
Angel said, “Buffy found out about the blood.”
Gunn shrank back. “Oh crap.” He turned to Wesley who was determined to remain out of the debate. “And they’re going into this now? Maybe we should have left them home to fight this out and handled this on our own.”
“No! Buffy, we are NOT discussing this now. We’ve got a mission and we need to stay focused. I knew it was a mistake taking you along,” he groused.
She glared at him, “I thought that you didn’t want me because you were afraid I’d get hurt, not because you were ducking an argument.”
“Buffy, I talked this over with Wes, Gunn, Cordy and Fred…”
“Oh, so you can talk about it with them but not me, is that it?!”
“Buffy, I just thought my becoming human would have a more profound impact on them since you weren’t really in my life anymore.”
“Not in your life? NOT IN YOUR LIFE!?!? Since you left Sunnydale, I’ve come to see you no less than five times. I know that doesn’t seem like a lot given the timespan and they weren’t always the happiest of moments but I thought they meant something to you. That I still meant something to you.”
Angel paused, trying to get his feelings under control. “Buffy, you know what you mean to me. That’s why I can’t do this again. And I don’t want to talk about this NOW.”
“When do we talk about this, Angel? When will we ever talk about this?”
“You heard the man, Slayer, you’re not talking about this now.”
“SHUT UP!” they yelled at him.
Abruptly, Wesley jammed his foot on the brake causing the others to lurch forward. “Now see here! We are on a mission! I don’t care about your petty squabbles. Cordelia got a painful vision about someone in peril and we are going to rescue him. So just put aside your quarrel and keep focused on the task at hand. Do I make myself clear?”
He glared back and forth at the two in the backseat. They gaped at him and then muttered reluctant agreements under their breaths. The rest of the journey was made in the same grim silence that began it.
__________
A splash of cold water in his face roused him back to awareness. Moments later he realized it was holy water as his face began to smoke and burn. “BLOODY HELL! You wankers!”
One of the demons--a Fyarl, one of several--grunted at him, “Hold your tongue, vampire, or I’ll pull it out.”
Spike sneered at him through one swollen eye. “Why, what are you going to do with it? You can barely use the one you’ve got.”
A soft hissing voice came from the shadows. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Mr. Spike, your marvelous sense of humor under adverse situations. It’s always so refreshing.”
Spike shifted uneasily. Now that he had time to assess the situation, he realized he was bound hand and foot in a heavy metal chair under a bright light. Squinting past the circle of illumination, he couldn’t see much, but he recognized those sibilant tones. Seconds after, the toothy visage of Mr. Sharky loomed into view. “Oh, it’s you. Look, I told you I’d get you your kittens…”
“Yeah, that’s what you said and I was foolish enough to believe you. But then I hear that you’ve left town and taken up residence in a four-star hotel in L.A. and I start to wonder. You’ve obviously come into cash but instead of buying and paying me my fifty kittens…”
“Hang on! It was only forty!”
“True, but what with interest and my having to replace those vampire minions of mine you and that Slayer dusted, you owe me considerably more than that.” The Shark turned to one of the demons who was busily fishing through the pockets of Spike’s duster. “Anything of interest?”
The demon threw out a couple of knives, a metal lighter, a crumpled pack of smokes and the vial of demon blood onto a nearby table. The Shark picked up the latter in one flipper. “And what have we here?”
If Spike’s heart had still been beating, it would have lurched in his chest. “It’s a present from some vampire bint I knew. It’s got nothing but sentimental value.”
The Shark tossed the vial idly from one fin to the other while Spike struggled to keep his face expressionless. If Sharky broke that vial, Spike silently swore he’d find a way to make him pay.
Finally the Shark shrugged and stuck the vial into an inside pocket of his jacket. “Maybe after we sell his coat and whatever’s in this little tube, we can get enough to buy one of you boys lunch--at McDonald’s!” The others gave dutiful grunts and wheezes of laughter.
Sharky pulled a long, thin shaft of wood from under his jacket and waved it under Spike’s nose. “Do you have any idea what this is, my boy?”
Spike’s face took on a bored look. “I’d say it was a toothpick but judging by your breath you never use one of those.”
“Funny, Spike, funny to the last. This wooden shaft, which would be perilous enough on its own to your kind, is coated with a very special solution known as the Killer of the Dead. It’s concocted specifically to kill vampires. Only it doesn’t kill you quickly like staking or decapitation. Oh no. First, there’s weakness, fever, hallucinations, racking pain in the joints. It’s all extremely painful and death takes hours. Do you see where I’m going with this, Spike?”
“Not a clue. Enlighten me.”
“According to the stories, the only cure for this poison is draining the blood of a Slayer. So first I jab you with the poison, you get that enormous store of cash you’ve come into and buy me my kittens and then you kill that Slayer girlfriend of yours.”
Spike stared at him in disbelief. “That’s it? THAT’S your plan? You dumb tosser, I was going to pay you your damn kittens, that’s why I came to L.A. in the first place. You honestly think I could get quality, purebred Siamese in that soddin’ little burg? And you can just forget about me getting the Slayer, she ain’t my girlfriend.”
“Spike, Spike, Spike, you’re such a liar. You were fighting together like you’d been doing it for years. She’ll come to you in your hour of need and then…”
“And then, she’s going to stomp on you like a sharkskin boot,” Buffy quipped as the four of them came charging through the warehouse door. The Fyarl demons snarled and charged as they approached the vampire in the chair.
“STOP!” the shark roared. “There isn’t going to be another knockdown, drag-out fight scene, not here, boys, not while I’ve got this.” He waggled the stick for emphasis.
Buffy snorted in amusement. “You’re threatening us with a stick? First kittens, now this. What’s next? A gale of sneezing powder? Listen, Sharky Boy…”
“Please, call me Ray.”
Buffy forged on. “Whatever. It’s going to take more than a stick to impress me.”
“Not even a stick coated with the Killer of the Dead?” Ray watched in satisfaction as Buffy’s expression changed to apprehension. “So you know what that is. Good, saves me from having to explain it twice. Come near us and I infect your boyfriend with it and you can either watch him die or die yourself saving him.”
Buffy yelled, “HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND!” Then she hurled her sword through the air and into Ray’s chest. He stared in shock at the hilt protruding from his front and fell over onto the floor.
Pandemonium broke out as the Fyarls resumed their attack. But what these demons had in size and strength, they were severely lacking in intelligence and strategy. The well-honed team of Angel Investigations and one extremely pissed-off Slayer were more than a match for them.
__________
In the aftermath of the battle, Angel and the others began gingerly brushing off blood and Fyarl mucous off their clothes. Finally giving it up as a task beyond the hope of any but the most determined dry cleaner, Angel walked over to Spike and began slicing through his bonds. “About time you got here. What kept you, you git?”
“Good to see you too, Sparky,” Angel smirked. Just then one of the beaten Fyarls pulled the poisoned wood from Ray’s lifeless fin and jabbed it viciously into Angel’s thigh. He gasped from the flaring agony and gave the demon a savage kick to the head.
As Spike wriggled out of the last of his bindings, Angel gritted his teeth, pulling the pointed implement out of his leg and threw it aside. “Buffy…..” he whispered just before his legs gave way, toppling him to the floor.
Buffy and Wesley ran to Angel’s side. Gunn said, “Yo, Wes, give me the keys. I’ll drive.” When the others didn’t move, he snapped, “What are you guys waiting for?”
“It’s the poison, Gunn,” Wesley told him quietly. “There’s only one cure for it.”
Spike shrugged into his duster, replacing the items the demon had taken from it. Lighting one of his cigarettes, he squinted at the other vampire and the white-faced Slayer crouched by his side. “You mean that stuff ole Ray was spouting is true? That stuff kills vampires? Tough break, that.”
The others didn’t react to him at all. “Angel, listen to me. You’re not going to die. You know what you have to do.”
Wesley protested, “Buffy, you can’t do this, not again. You barely survived the first time. You can’t take being drained twice in one lifetime.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a bleeding minute! You mean she’s done this before?” His mind raced back. He’d seen the scar on Buffy’s throat but had always assumed that Angel had marked her during their one night of passion. Now it seemed as if another story lay behind it.
“When my Slayer--Faith--turned rogue, she shot Angel with an arrow coated with this selfsame poison. Buffy let Angel drain her nearly to the point of death to save him.” Wesley paused, his mouth tightening; his failure to keep Faith in line still haunted him after all this time.
“Mohra blood.” The whisper came from Angel. Buffy’s eyes flew to his face. He gestured feebly at his coat. Buffy grabbed at the lapel and pulled it open.
Gunn peered over Wesley’s shoulder. “You telling us you brought that stuff with you, Angel? Why, you change your mind about using it?”
Angel shook his head slowly. Beads of sweat were starting to form on his brow. “It was in case….one of you got hurt.”
Buffy’s hand rummaged inside his coat and then she yanked it out with a sharp cry. Her fingertips were bleeding and the others could see glints of light coming from the glass shards embedded in them.
Gunn swore. “The bottle must have gotten broken during the fight.”
Wesley reached out towards Buffy. “I’m so sorry…”
She knocked his hand away. “Save it. He’s not going to die.” She drew back one fist and slugged Angel as hard as she could in the face. “Angel, change. You have to!
Gunn grabbed at her. “Hold up, girl! Have you lost your mind?”
Wesley pulled him back. “Gunn, stop. I think I know what she’s doing.”
Buffy continued to pummel Angel steadily. In one detached corner of his mind, Spike admired the efficiency of the blows. There was no senseless flailing--just a deliberate barrage of solid swings connecting with Angel’s face.
A cheekbone cracked open, one eye was bloodied and lip split. These were all minor injuries and should have healed in seconds. But they remained there, marring that beautiful face, mute testimony to the poison already coursing through his system.
Buffy’s blows were starting to lose their focus as Angel shut his eyes and his body grew limp. “Angel, please change. You have to change! Please--do it for me.” She was using both fists now and her swings were landing on his arms, chest and head as she struggled to bring his vampiric face to the fore.
Wesley whispered, “I don’t understand. It took hours last time--why is it working so rapidly now?”
Gunn replied, “Maybe it’s because he was already infected. His body can’t take another dose.”
Buffy fell weeping onto his chest. “Angel, don’t die. I couldn’t stand it. Please come back. You have to try. This world is hell. I couldn’t bear to live without you in it.”
Spike felt an awful chill go through him. She meant it. He’d heard that same note of despair in her voice when she’d first revealed to him how she’d been torn from heaven; he’d felt it trembling through her tiny frame when she’d kissed him so fiercely in the Bronze after Giles left.
Swiftly, before he had a chance to change his mind, he walked over to Sharky’s carcass and started going through his pockets. He found what he was looking for and nudged Wesley in the shoulder. “Here. Take it,” he said roughly.
Wesley groped blindly for the object, then glanced down at what lay in his hand. His eyes widened. “My God. Is this--?”
“Yeah, present from a lady. Now give it to him quick before he croaks.” He turned away abruptly and strode out of the warehouse.
Spike watched, hidden from the shadows, as the quartet came out minutes after him. Even in the dim light, he could see the wonder and joy on Buffy’s face when she touched Angel’s chest repeatedly as if she couldn’t believe it. Closing his eyes, he could distinctly pick up all four heartbeats. He continued watching, motionless, as they all piled into the car and drove away.
__________
It hadn’t taken him long to return to the hotel; he’d simply hot-wired a car and driven back. He’d packed the few belongings he’d brought with him. Casting one last look around to see if he’d missed anything, he shouldered the bag and opened the hotel door…
…To find Buffy standing there with an upraised fist. “Well, look who’s here. How’d you find me?”
“Angel does work for an investigative agency, you know. It’s kinda his job.”
He shut the door and started walking towards the elevators. “So what are you doing here? Got bored with your human boytoy already?”
Buffy stared at him hard for a minute as if just seeing him for the first time. “Wesley told me what you did. Where did you get a bottle of Mohra blood?”
“Same source as Angel’s, I ‘spect. Melissa sent it to me.”
Buffy blinked in surprise. In her anger at Angel’s deception, she hadn’t thought to ask the obvious question of where he’d gotten his gift.
“Well, I can understand why she sent it to him. But why did she give you…” She stopped and her face flamed red as she realized. “In that case, why didn’t you use it? Angel gave me the usual story about his remaining a vampire to save me and protect the world. What was your reason?”
Spike snorted in disgust. “Maybe Little Miss Hair Gel secretly wanted to become human, but I like being a vampire. Living forever, trouncing the hell out of demon ass, going where I like, doing what I please--who’d want to give that up?”
“Why’d you keep the blood with you then? Why not just get rid of it? And why bring it with you to L.A.?” By this time they were in front of the elevator doors.
Spike attempted a nonchalant pose. “I knew Peaches wanted to become human. Thought maybe I could sell it to him.”
Buffy smirked in disbelief. “Is that your final answer?” He rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort only to stiffen in surprise as she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, Spike. That was--” The elevator doors opened and she jumped back from him as other passengers got out. Whatever she had to say was lost as she stepped inside. The last sight he had was of her smiling slightly, a dreamy distant look in her eyes, as the doors slid shut.
Spike stood there, frozen in place, as he tried to get himself under control.
“Goodbye, Buffy,” he whispered.

TBC
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Humanity