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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground	By : cousinjean Category: AtS/BtVS Crossovers > Het - Male/Female > Buffy/Spike(William) > Buffy/Spike(William) Views: 2581 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS) or Angel, the Series (AtS); nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
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Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground

by cousinjean

Chapter Three - Never Is A Promise

RATING: R
PREVIOUSLY: After pilfering a list from Fred's office of all of the books that serve as gateways to other dimensions, Spike went to seek help from Willow in San Francisco. She revealed to him that she already tried to use such a book to open a portal and retrieve Buffy, but that it didn't work. There's no more magic, and the books are dead, and without them, there's no way that she knows of to save Buffy.

A/N: If you're wondering what the heck Fray is but are too afraid to ask, go here to find out.

Returning to the grand tradition of borrowing titles from one's CD collection. This one is courtesy of Fiona Apple.

~*~

After rejecting Willow's generous beanbag offer, Spike had promised to get a room somewhere and sleep it off; but the prospect of sleep terrified him. So did the idea of getting sober enough to drive back to L.A. Really, anything that would leave him time to do nothing but think, or dream, was something to avoid. So he'd kept half his promise -- he'd got himself a room. But then he'd gone straight out and found someplace where he could get good and pissed.
It was almost sunrise, and he was down three-quarters of a bottle of Scotch; yet he still couldn't wash this thought from his mind: he'd failed her. Images of exactly how and when swam in his head, tangling up with other failures, getting blurrier with every glass. Yet one image remained crystal clear. Didn't matter if he closed his eyes or opened them; whether he was alone with the quiet or in a crowd full of noise. Waking or sleeping, sober or sloshed, he could still see her reaching for him as the portal closed around her, still hear her screaming his name. He expected he always would.
A whiff of expensive perfume penetrated his haze. An arm brushed his as the stool next to him scooted out and a soft rustle of fabric settled onto it. A silky voice purred, "I'll have what he's having."
Spike smiled in spite of himself. Without looking up, he opened his mouth to give his automatic response: "Sorry. Spoken for." But he closed it again and said nothing. Instead he let himself consider it. He could take the bird back to his room, or follow her back to her place, or, hell, just find an empty stall in the bathroom, and bury himself in her. For a few blissful moments he could lose himself utterly in soft skin and sweat, sensation and sex emptying his head, letting him forget, just for a moment. Letting him rest. Then he imagined how it would be after, to come back to himself and remember it all over again, to open his eyes and expect to see green eyes smiling up at him and to be met with a stranger's instead. He shuddered.
Elegant fingers pushed a white folder in front of him. "No need to look at me, William, but you might want to have a look at this."
He looked at her then, first at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, then turning his head to stare. "But you're--"
"Yup," said Lilah, leaning her elbow on the bar and propping her chin with her fist, "still dead."
"How--"
She laughed as she reached for her drink. "Magic might've been banished from your dimension, but we're still lawyers. Finding loopholes is what we do."
He grabbed her arm and forced her to face him, sloshing Scotch all over her immaculate suit. "How?!"

With a disgusted sigh, she wrenched her arm out of his grip and set down her drink. "Swell," she said, grabbing a handful of cocktail napkins and dabbing at the stain. "Do you have any idea what the dry cleaning bills are like in hell?"
"Lilah�"
"Look, I would love to sit here and discuss the finer points of being on reprieve from eternal torment, but A, I'm just a messenger and my time here is kinda limited, and B, all the answers you need are right in front of you."
Spike turned back to the folder. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Buy me another one and we'll call it even." Spike waved at the bartender and pointed at Lilah's empty tumbler. "Mmm," she said as the barkeep set another drink in front of her. She picked it up and swirled the golden liquid around in the light. "It's impossible to find a decent Scotch where I come from." She took a sip, swished it in her mouth, and grimaced. "And apparently it's impossible to get one here, too. So, are you gonna open that?"
Spike hadn't touched the folder. It didn't look so special. Plain, white, no markings except for the embossed Wolfram & Hart logo in the center. Still, he was afraid of what might be inside. Of what was trying to fill him up as he just sat here, doing nothing. He'd come here to make peace with losing hope, not to find it again.
"What's the catch?"
"No catch," she said. "That I know of, at least. If you're asking what the Senior Partners stand to gain by helping you�" She shrugged. "Like I said, I'm just a messenger."
Spike nodded and reached for the folder.
"You know, your granddaddy would throw that file back at me without even looking at it and tell me to go back to hell."
"Yeh, well, I'm no Angel." He opened the folder.
"Nope. I always liked that about you."
Spike scanned the first page, deflating as he did so. He shook his head. "One step ahead of you. And, it's a dead end."
"Keep reading, Champ. Your witchy friend's wrong. The books aren't dead, they're locked. You've got everything; you just need the final ingredient to activate it."
"I don't have the book," Spike pointed out. He didn't bother asking how she knew what Willow had told him.
Lilah finished off her drink and shook her head. "No. The book is safely tucked away on an island in the Reikost dimension. Nasty place. Not popular with tourists."
"Right. And how do I get there?"
"You don't. Lucky for you, Wolfram & Hart extracted the pages you need before the book was taken. They're locked in a vault on the third sub-level. The file contains directions on where to find them."
"Yeh," he said, still reading. "That's convenient." He turned the page and read some more. As he got to the bottom, a bitter laugh escaped him. "And we found our catch." He closed the folder and pushed it back to Lilah.
"What, just like that?"
"'Fraid so."
She looked flummoxed. "You're kidding me. You've been after this for a year. This is the best chance you'll ever have to get her back. Probably your only chance."
Spike gazed at the folder for a moment, turning it all over in his mind. He shook his head and stood up.
"You're really going to pass this up?"
"That's not a risk I'm willing to take," he said, pulling out his wallet.
As he counted out bills to pay his tab, Lilah opened the folder to the last page, and shook her head. "You should at least talk to the girl first. You ask me, she'd be willing to shed a little blood to get big sis back."
"Didn't ask you," said Spike. He threw the money on the counter and turned to go.
"Wait," Lilah called.
Spike sighed, and turned around. "I'm not involving Dawn in this. That's final."
She shrugged. "Fine. Suit yourself. Just�." The calm lawyer façade slipped as she folded her arms. "Can I ask a favor?"
He raised his eyebrows, waiting.
"Tell Wesley�" She shook her head. "No. Don't tell him anything. It won't do him any good to know you saw me." She opened her attaché case.
"He won't hear it from me," Spike promised.
Lilah stood poised to put the folder away, then held it out to him instead. "Take it. You don't have to use it. But you should at least sleep on it before you decide."
Spike almost reached for it. He stopped, his hand in mid-air. If he took it, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. But he'd promised once to protect Dawn. That promise, at least, he could still keep. He knew Buffy wouldn't want to come back at her sister's expense. "See you around, Lilah," he said, shoving his hand in his pocket as he walked outside to hail a cab.
***
Dust motes hung in the soft beams of waning sunlight that shone through the windows set high in the warehouse. Below, on the padded floor of the converted dojo, the Slayer danced alone.
Spike leaned in the doorway and watched silently as his partner put herself through the paces, a deadly choreography of gymnastics and martial arts that covered every square inch of an area designed to accommodate a whole battalion of Slayers. Just as well, seeing how one of her was worth a dozen of the rest of them. She wouldn't admit as much, but he fancied himself a good judge of Slayers. She was the only one worth dying for. Worth being alive for. The only one who'd ever beat him.
He thought about stepping in. Giving her a decent spar, or at least coaching her a little. Joining her in the dance. But she didn't need him for that. Not anymore. She'd gone beyond him, become so good that not even he could touch her. At least, not in that capacity.
Anyway, he liked to watch.
When she'd finally worn herself out, she collapsed in the middle of the mat and lay panting, until he strolled over to give her a hand up. "Good show, Gorgeous."
"You should tell me stuff like that after I've showered," she said, taking the towel and water bottle he held out for her. "Then I'd believe you weren't just saying that."
"Oh, come off it. You know I always think you're beautiful."
She studied him with narrowed eyes as she emptied the bottle. When she finished, she handed it back. "I know you're very sweet when you want to be. Spike, it's okay to tell me I'm all gross and sweaty when I'm� well, all gross and sweaty. I'll still love you."
He folded his arms and stared at her in disbelief. "You just don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
He reached out to grab her by the waist and pull her to him. Gazing at her in wonder, he brushed a damp lock of hair out of her eyes. "Your beauty, Love� it's mythic. It'd take a hell of a lot more'n a little sweat and dirt to mar it."
Her face went all soft and her eyes moist as she smiled dreamily at him. "Marry me."
He made a pained face and shook his head. "Sorry, can't. Already engaged."
Buffy pouted. "Lucky girl."
"No." Spike tilted her chin up and brushed his lips against hers. "Lucky me." Their lips met again, parting this time as they wrapped their arms around each other. Long after the kiss ended, they still held one another, each basking in the other's presence as the sunlight faded from the windows. "I mean it," Spike murmured in her ear. "You look truly beautiful." He let go and stood back to consider her. "Your smell, on the other hand�"
"Spike!" Buffy hit him with her towel.
He caught it, laughing. "What? You said to be honest."
Frowning, she pulled her tank top up to sniff it. "Ew."
"Go clean up," he said, still chuckling. "We have reservations."
"I'll show you reservations, Mister," she said with a mock pout. Then something more serious flickered across her face as she started toward the showers.
"Whoa, Buffy," he followed her and reached for her elbow, getting her to stop. "Something the matter, Love?"
"What? No!" She answered a bit too quickly and innocently for his liking. He raised an eyebrow. With a sigh, she looked down and fiddled with her towel. "It's just that� I've been thinking."
"Yeh? I take it this is a heavier topic than what to order for dinner."
"We should postpone the wedding."
His other eyebrow shot up to match the first one. "What?!"
"Not indefinitely! Just another month or so."
"Why?"
"Spike, come on. Planning this wedding is its own special brand of craziness, and that on top of the usual apocalypty craziness� it's making me crazy!"
"Yeh, but--"
"Honey, things are getting bad."
"I noticed. Hell, I had to stop and fight off a Turlok demon just on the way over here. But that doesn't mean we have to not get married."
"I didn't say that! I just think we should wait. Until it's over. I need to focus on the fight. So do you."
"Bull."
"Spike--"
"No. No, that's not it." He paced a little, then stopped and looked at her accusingly. "You're afraid we're not gonna make it."
"That's�" She folded her arms. "It crossed my mind. It's not like either of us has survived every single apocalypse."
He shook his head. "I won't have you thinking like that."
"I have to think like that."
"No, you don't." He took hold of her shoulders and made her look at him. "Buffy, this is the first one of these things I've seen you go through where you haven't come over all Sisyphus. You're not carrying the weight of the world now--"
"Don't you mean Atlas?"
"You know what I mean. The burden's not all on you for once. And having this wedding to think about, making definite plans for after the fight� it's kept you happy."
"But that feels wrong," she said, a tear trailing down her cheek.
Spike wiped it away and shook his head. "No, Baby. Planning your life� planning on living� there's nothing wrong with that. 'S how it should be." He sighed. "If anything, I think we should move it up."
"What?" Her uncertainty turned to panic. "We can't do that, there's still too much to--"
"Not the wedding. Sod the wedding."
She blinked at him. "But--"
"I don't mean�. Look, we can have the wedding any time you like. There's no rule says we have to get married at the wedding."
Buffy looked at him like he'd gone completely starkers. "Okay, you do know that that's what weddings are for, right?"
"Not always. Weddings are for showing off, more'n anything. We don't need that." He bit his lip and studied her as it started to sink in. "All the important stuff is in order. We could go find a justice of the peace�"
"What, you mean elope?"
"Now you're gettin' it."
"Spike, we don't even have rings yet."
"We can pick some up on the way."
She was looking tempted. Still resisting, though. "We can't get married without everybody there. It'll hurt their feelings."
"So, the wedding'll be for their sake, later. This is for us. They don't even need to know."
"But--"
"Buffy." He cupped both her cheeks. "You� you an' Dawn, you're my family. My home. I want to make that official. I want to be able to call you my wife." He shook his head. "I don't want to put that off. Not any longer."
She raised a hand to his cheek. "Me neither."
With a smile and a relieved laugh, he kissed her forehead, then rested his own against it. "You know," he said in his best seductive voice, "we could be in Las Vegas in a matter of hours. Find a swanky honeymoon suite to hole up in after. Be back by midmorning, with no one the wiser."
She looked up at him, her demure smile belying the spark of lust in her eyes. "Honeymoon suite, huh?"
He waggled his eyebrows, curling the tip of his tongue to his teeth.
"I suppose it wouldn't kill anyone for us to leave for one night," she said, tracing a nondescript pattern on his chest. "I mean, Faith's in town. She and the other girls can�"
She trailed off as a screeching noise filled the air, accompanied by a loud whistle, like a rocket hurtling toward them. Moving together, they dove under a pommel horse just as the roof exploded, raining down debris and� something else. Something big. It left a small crater in the middle of the floor.
The thing looked to be stunned, but as they got to their feet, it did, too, unfurling great, scaly wings and letting out another shriek. Buffy ran to a display of weapons on the wall. She threw Spike a crossbow, but before he could catch it, the monster swept one of its wings at him and sent him flying into a heap of rubble. It rounded on him with a hiss, then reared up, beak open, and lunged for him. But Buffy was already between them, spear in hand. She thrust it up through the demon's jaw. The tip burst through the top of its head in a spray of brains and blood. The thing screeched again, its wings flapping, then it fell over, dead.
Buffy turned to help Spike up. "You okay?"
"Yeh, but what the--" He stopped, realizing he could hear more screeching overhead. They both looked up.
Their sky had disappeared. In its place was a swirly, murky, grayish-purple haze, full of those creatures swooping down to have their way with the city.
"Game on," said Spike. "Guess we'll have to take a rain check on Vegas after all."
Buffy sighed, and frowned up at the hellish sky. "Man, our timing sucks!"
***
The battle had moved to the desert, and had gone all night. Sunup would have been two hours ago, if not for the sky being blotted out. Shame. That would've taken care of the more photosensitive species, including the vampires currently dog piled on Spike. The head had long ago broken off of his battle-axe, but the handle made a handy stake. Nice and long, which gave him plenty of thrust without having to get too close. Not that it mattered at the moment, what with three of the bastards trying to take him down at once. What he wouldn't have given to have his own fangs just then.
He kept tabs on the situation as best he could while he fought. The good news? The enemy's numbers were dwindling; the bad news was, so were theirs. None of the Slayers left standing that he could see; save Buffy, and she didn't look like she could go much longer. Angel and his crew were holding their own, supplemented with a small platoon of Wolfram & Hart people, about half of whom were still fighting.
Spike threw a vamp over his shoulder onto the ground. As he plunged the stake in its heart, he could hear Red and Giles chanting behind a boulder. Their voices grew louder as he fought, and at one point he thought he heard Giles scream. By the time he finished off his attackers and readied for more, only Willow's voice filled the air.
And something started to happen.
Nothing else attacked him, for one thing. He started toward Buffy, but her opponents -- a couple Lei-Ach demons -- were too busy struggling against some invisible force to bother with her anymore. She took both their heads anyway.
A cry from Dawn got their attention. She and Xander were on triage duty, doing what they could for the wounded. They both knelt beside Giles, Dawn's face twisted into a mask of grief, Xander's showing only disbelief as he looked from Giles to Willow. She literally hovered nearby, white hair flowing all around her, eyes and skin glowing as the power of the spell suspended her.
Buffy dropped her sword and ran to them. Spike hung back, letting them say their goodbyes. Even from where he stood, he could tell it was all over for Giles. Wesley and Fred also lay nearby, unconscious, but Spike could see the rise and fall of their breathing. He stood guard over the tableau, ready to kill anything that tried to interfere.
The monsters, however, were otherwise occupied. Thanks to Willow's mojo, they were all being sucked away as if by a giant vacuum -- a selective vacuum that ignored humans and anything earthbound. The hellish sky was going, too, making way for the sun to shine.
A shout from Gunn and a cry of agony caused all heads to turn. Gunn dug his heels in the ground and hung on to Angel as he was being sucked away. Buffy and Spike ran to help. "Get something to cover him!" Spike shouted. Angel was burning up as sunlight touched him. Spike stripped off his jacket and threw it over the vampire. The others followed suit.
But something else was happening to Angel. His face kept shifting from human to demon -- the ridges becoming more pronounced each time. Green, scaly and spiny, they started to encompass his whole face, the rest of him changing to match. The demon snarled and struggled, trying to bite even as it hung on for dear life. It wasn't changing back anymore. It threw off the coats and started to burn. They let it go and watched as it burst into flames, its ashes crumbling and swirling away into the vortex.
A soft moan caused them all to look down. Angel lay at their feet, barely conscious, his clothes destroyed, but breathing and unharmed by the sun. Human.
Buffy stared down in disbelief as the others tended him. Spike pulled her aside.
"Angel�"
"He'll be fine. You're hurt." When she'd taken off her jacket she'd uncovered a bloody hole in her shirt.
She shrugged it off. "Nothing a hot bath and�" she lifted her top and grimaced at the damage, "about twenty stitches won't fix." She looked up at him. "What about you? You're limping."
"I am?" He hadn't even noticed. "I'm fine. A little banged up is all." He lifted his arm to reach for her and groaned as pain shot through his ribs. "Okay, a lot banged up. But nothing serious."
Buffy's hands were already on him, though; roving, checking, raising his shirt to graze his skin, bruised but unbroken. Making sure. He grabbed them and raised them to his lips. "I'm okay, Love." He smiled. "We both made it through this time."
She flashed him a watery smile, but it wavered as she looked around at their dead. "Wish they could all say the same." Her gaze fell on Giles, and her face contorted.
Spike pulled her against him as her tears erupted. It only lasted a minute; then she wiped her face and went all stoic. "We should�" She shook her head. "I don't know what we should do."
"We'll figure it out," he assured her. "C'mere." He turned her around to face the vortex. "First I want you to see what they all died for."
They watched as everything they'd ever fought left their dimension for another. A reverse rain of demons flew past them, drawn up from the ground to the sky and disappearing into the portal that grew smaller and closer with each one it swallowed. You'd expect something so earth shattering to be loud and violent, but except for the shouts and screams of the beasties who didn't want to go, it was all strangely quiet. Peaceful, almost. Spike wondered if this was what it was like all those millennia ago, when the old ones were banished. He hoped that this time, they would all stay put. If not, at least they had a reprieve. Hopefully one that would last their whole lives or longer.
"It's over, Baby," he murmured in her ear, one hand massaging her tight neck. "Really over this time. I can feel it. You're finally free."
"Free," she said carefully, as if trying the word for the first time.
"Yeh, both of us. We can pack away the stakes and weapons. Nothing left to slay."
Buffy turned to face him. "It's over," she repeated, a note of skepticism in her voice.
He smiled. "Yup. No more vamps, no more Hellmouths, no more demons." He brushed her hair out of her face. "No more Slayer."
Her eyes drifted from his as this revelation sunk in, looking at all that it had cost them. Spike grasped for something to distract her. Let her have a moment's peace before the grief set in, damn it. She'd earned that.
"So," he said, placing a finger under her chin and nudging her to look at him, "we still on for Vegas?"
She blinked at him for a moment. Then she choked out a laugh and smiled, grabbing his face and pulling it to hers for a life-affirming kiss. His lips were bruised and busted, as were hers, but neither of them cared. His hands moved now, stroking her cheeks, petting her hair. Confirming that she was here, that she was his. That she would be okay.
She broke off the kiss with a gasp and looked down. Puzzled, Spike followed her gaze to a thick tentacle wrapped around her waist, squeezing. Pulling. It jerked her backwards off her feet, but Spike caught her around the waist and held her up while they both struggled to free her.
"Don't pack the weapons yet," she said through gritted teeth as they tried to pry her free.
"Sword," Spike said, looking around. "We need your sword." He started to go get it, but she grabbed him.
"Don't let go." Buffy sounded close to panicking as she held onto his shoulders. The Noki demon flailed around behind her, thrashing against the force that pulled at it. It emitted a steady rumble of incoherent, guttural syllables as it fought to stay in this dimension. Another tentacle grabbed hold of her leg. Buffy and Spike both got dragged several yards in an instant, before they could dig in their feet and hold on. "Oh God!"
"It's okay, Pet." He wrapped both arms around her waist. "I'm not letting go."
"Spike�"
"Never gonna let go," he muttered, scanning the area for something to help them break away from the demon. The others were still huddled over Angel, oblivious. "Help us!"
Xander was the first to turn and see them. "Oh, God," he said, leaping to his feet.
"Get Willow," Spike ordered. "Snap her out of it, make her stop chanting."
"No!"
Spike looked at Buffy. "But--"
"If you break her trance, the portal will close. It's too soon."
"It'll be too bloody late in another minute!" As they argued, the thing dragged them another ten feet.
"Buffy!" Dawn screamed.
"Xander!" Buffy pointed with her free arm. "Get my sword!"
Xander did as he was told, and he, Dawn, and the few others left standing came to the rescue. Or tried to, anyway. The Noki had six other giant tentacles, and it put up a fight, knocking them away and grabbing at Buffy with a new one each time they hacked at it. The thing had both her legs now. It pulled her out of Spike's arms, but he held tight to her hands as the others fought. "Just hang on, Love. We'll have you loose in a jiff."
"Spike�"
"I won't let you go. No matter what."
Looming close behind her, the portal had diminished to about the size of a garage door. Energy crackled around its edges, but whatever barrier protected them from it also kept them from hearing what was on the other side. The Noki started shrieking as it reached the threshold. Surely if it closed now, they could slay the stragglers before any harm could be done.
"Wake Willow!" Spike bellowed.
"No!"
"Buffy, we have to."
She looked resigned. And scared. "Dawn�"
But her sister was already at the witch's side, screaming in her face. The same energy that surrounded the portal prevented Dawn from touching her. "She won't snap out of it!"
"Oh, God." Tears streamed down Buffy's face. "Spike�"
"I'm right here, Baby." They lurched forward again. He almost lost his grip that time. Almost. The demon was inside the portal now.
"Don't let go."
"Never." She was at the portal's edge, and if he couldn't free her, he meant to go with her. The others were still doing what they could, screaming and hollering as they tried to fight the demon off of Buffy. But when she was dragged through the portal, they gave up and grabbed onto him instead, pulling him back. "No!" he screamed. "Get off me!"
The opening was just big enough now to pull Buffy through, if that fucking demon would just let her go. Or to pull him through if it wouldn't. But with it pulling her and the others pulling him, their grip on each other started to slip.
"No! Buffy--"
"Spike!"
"No..." She slipped out of his fingers, and he and the others fell backwards into a heap. "Nooo!" Spike struggled to his feet. Buffy was still reaching for him, but the opening was too small now. All he could see was her hand and a goddamn tentacle sticking out. He lunged for her. But she was gone. He landed face first in the sand.

***

Spike awoke to the sound of his own screaming. It took a moment to figure out where he was, and another for the nightmare to come back to him. Kicking off the scratchy hotel sheet, he rolled over, buried his face in a pillow, and sobbed.
He stopped before he could cry himself back to sleep. He didn't want to dream anymore. Instead he leaned over the side of the bed and fished around for his pants. When he found them, he took a pack of cigarettes from the pocket and dropped them back on the floor. He used the complimentary matches on the nightstand to light up, then sat, naked in the dark, and smoked.
He had no idea what time it was. It occurred to him that both his watch and a clock sat on the nightstand, but turning his head to look would take more effort than he could muster just yet. He felt pretty thoroughly hung over. Daylight peeked through the cracks in the heavy curtains, and he could hear knocking out in the hall. He hoped he remembered to hang out the "Do Not Disturb" sign.
His cigarette spent, he went over his options. He could sit on his ass and smoke some more and tell his options to go bugger themselves for another ten minutes and leave him the hell alone. An attractive choice, but it would only stave off the inevitable. He could get dressed and go home. Put off any further decisions until then. Not like he wouldn't have plenty of time to think on the drive. Or he could call room service for some strong coffee and something for his headache.
Going back to bed sounded better, except for the dreaming part. He eyed the honor bar and wondered if it was stocked well enough to let him drink himself into oblivion. With a groan, he heaved himself off the bed to go see. Halfway across the room, something caught his eye. A small hint of white in the shadows by the door.
Spike stared at it for a long time, not sure how to feel about it. He wanted to be pissed off, but part of him -- a big part -- was relieved to see it. His heart pounded when he finally moved to pick it up. A note was stuck to the front: "In case you have a change of heart. --L."
This time he went straight to the last page. To the ritual requirements. It didn't call for much blood. Just a few drops, really. A finger prick. It wouldn't hurt her. Not really.

You should at least talk to the girl first. You ask me, she'd be willing to shed a little blood to get big sis back.

Spike didn't remember crossing the room to the phone, or even picking it up and dialing; but suddenly he heard ringing in his ear.
"Hi, this is Dawn and Adrienne's room. We can't talk right now, so leave a message."
Spike swallowed. "Uh, heya Bit. It's me. Sorry I haven't called � I was wondering if maybe we could talk. Just me and you, without Harris, if he's still around. Um, I'm out of town right now, but�" he glanced at the clock, "I can be home by nightfall. I'll call you then. See you."
He hung up, took a deep breath, and blew out a long sigh. He felt guilty just for calling her, for even thinking about putting this on her. Especially now, when she had so much going on, in the midst of coping with her own grief.
But if she said yes�
He squelched that thought before he could finish it. Wouldn't do to get his hopes up before he talked to her. Whatever her decision, he'd stand by it. And if she said no, that would be that.
But deep down, he knew she'd say yes.
For the first time in almost a year, Spike smiled, and meant it.

~*~

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Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground

Dead Leaves & the Dirty Ground