Don't kill me! Don't kill me!
I didn't mean
to leave you guys hanging for so long, I swear!
After my daughter got over being sick-which we since found out was salmonella from peanut butter
of all things, there were the holidays, and then I somehow became the only employed person in the household, which required switching to a 10 hour day work schedule...
Er...Mercy? *hopeful look*
The scent of blood was almost overwhelming when Spike entered the bathroom, stepping over the bodies of several men in white lab coats, leaving Faith to cut a bloody swath through the hired goons.
Buffy was pressed into the far corner of the small room, covered almost head to toe in blood, so pale that even her lips were now white, her normally sparkling green eyes glassy and pain-glazed.
The Slayer looked up at his entrance, grip tightening on the blood-slicked bit of plastic she held clenched in one fist.
Spike growled low in his throat at the sight, his demon howling in rage at it's mate's condition.
The blonde vampire closed the distance between them in a veritable blur, ignoring the pain as the twisted piece of plastic sank into his shoulder as he scooped Buffy into his arms.
She was struggling as Spike stood upright, whether it was because she was too traumatized to recognize him, or she was just in that much pain, the vampire couldn't tell.
Whatever the cause, it was more than a little disturbing to hear the Slayer's heartbeat hammering rabbit-fast.
Buffy went ramrod stiff in his arms, her entire body tightening as she let out a bloodcurdling scream, one hand gripping Spike's shoulder so hard he felt his collarbone crack ominously.
Spike had a feeling that when the adrenaline wore off, he was going to find himself the owner of injuries he didn't know he'd sustained.
As long as Buffy was safe, he couldn't really bring himself to care. Fairly unusual for the Big Bad, especially considering that he'd just recently escaped the maw of death. To be so unconcerned about his life-or unlife, rather-was a bit surreal.
It was sheer hell going slow enough to avoid slipping on the blood-spattered floor with Buffy writhing and whimpering, when all he wanted to do was run full-speed to the nearest hospital. Not that he actually knew where it was.
"Hold on, luv," Spike muttered, struggling not to snarl in frustration at having to step over the bodies, his boots sliding on the bloody tile.
Buffy gave a strangled groan, burying her head in Spike's neck, shaking with pain. "You did this," she growled, voice low and strained.
Spike faltered, nearly losing his balance altogether at the unexpected utterance, and the heated tone. He had a feeling that if she'd been capable of standing upright, Buffy would be kicking the unlife out of him.
"Love you too, Slayer," the slightly bemused vampire drawled, giving a sharp nod to Faith as she approached, giving a gesture signifying that all of Buffy's captors were all dead.
The brunette Slayer went a little pale as she took in Buffy's appearance, then her eyes lit with fury.
"You sure there's not one left for me?" she questioned, violent energy almost visible in the air around her.
Faith and Buffy may not always see eye to eye, but they were sisters in a way that blood relation couldn't touch, and the part of the brunette that was pure Slayer was screaming for vengeance.
Spike raised golden-amber eyes to meet her brown gaze, lips quirking slightly. "Sorry, ducks. She beat us both to the punch."
Faith scowled. "Damn. I wanna kill something," she said, then followed the vampire's amused gaze to the bodies of the mercenaries strewn here and there around them. "Else," she added, not satisfied in the least.
The sudden sense that they were no longer alone gripped them and Spike and Faith turned as one, the dark-haired Slayer assuming a defensive stance in front of the platinum vampire and the weakened Slayer in his arms.
Jean-Claude and Asher froze at the sight of Buffy's blood-spattered form in Spike's arms.
"Sacre Dieu," the Master of the City breathed.
Faith relaxed marginally. The Master was a pain in the ass, but he wasn't an enemy. Hell, from the look on his face, ole Frenchie may just turn out to be an ally.
"C'mon people. Show's over. Let's get a move on," Spike snapped impatiently, shifting Buffy in his arms.
The blonde Slayer moaned, prompting him to send a scathing glare toward the two elder vampires for the delay.
"Anyone got a cell phone?" Faith questioned, casting a worried look at Buffy. It was unlike her to be so quiet. Coupled with her pallor, it was bordering on outright frightening.
"Non, I do not," Asher replied first. "But the clinic that serves the lycanthropes of our community is not far. Mademoiselle Summers can be stabilized there while awaiting an ambulance."
Spike's eyes narrowed as he considered. "Doc any good? Not gonna wind up with a furry Slayer, am I?"
"Mais non. Lillian would never allow such a thing to happen on her watch. She can treat humans as easily as lycanthropes. It is merely the...disquiet her nature causes human patients that has resulted in her practice being narrowed to those of a preternatural bent."
Spike gave a sharp nod. "Lead the way, then."-TBC