Shot in the Dark

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Chapter 42: Counting Down
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The phone continues to ring as both Slayer and vampire sit straight up. Spike moves first, rolling off the island and snatching the phone off the hook.

“’ello?” The sound of sputtering and mumbling greets Spike. A smile touches his face. “Mornin’, Rupert. Were you trying to reach Buffy?”

Giles recovers enough to finally answer. He knows those two are in love, but this evidence of their intimacy is still disconcerting. Like walking in on his only daughter making out on the couch with her boyfriend. Only he’s sure they were doing more than making out. “Um, yes, uh…hello, Spike. Indeed, ah, could I speak with her?”

Without answering, Spike holds the phone out to his blonde love. “Your Watcher, pet.” The smile is still there and she can’t help meeting it with a small one of her own as she stands up and takes the phone. Giles must be mortified.

“Giles? It’s me.” Buffy pauses as Giles gathers himself. He must have realized she is potentially naked at this very moment. And she is.

“Yes, hello, Buffy. Well, I’ve found another transcription of the prophecy in ancient Sumerian and it’s…the thing is, there is more than one way to interpret it and I’m not sure which is correct.”

Buffy closes her eyes, her heart beating erratically. She strains for calm. “Is the other interpretation better than the first or are we still in the doom and gloom arena?”

Spike pays close attention to the inaudible signals Buffy is giving off. Her current scent is wildly familiar to him, but not in a good way. Fear. A smell he knows all too well. There was a time in the not too distant past that Spike would have relished the stale scent of fear coming off the Slayer. Now, it just makes him hurt. He comes to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist lightly. She shivers, biting her lip before looking over her shoulder at him. Spike tries not to flinch at the worry present in her eyes.

“Well, again, Buffy, it is difficult to say. It would be better if you could come over here. There is more work to be done and the more help the better the chances of…um, the better the chances.”

Buffy feels her chest tighten at what is left unsaid. Now, she is torn between getting to spend today with her love with this horrible burden hanging over them or to go to Giles’ apartment for dusty research. Only the research could help save her love. Oh, damn. It’s a vicious cycle.

“We should go, love.” Spike’s voice in her ear is soft and low and it sends tendrils of warmth down her spine. Clearly, he can hear the conversation.

Buffy stands very still, staring blankly ahead, wishing for the thousandth time that she was not the Slayer. Wishing that she was a normal girl with a normal boyfriend, doing normal things. As quickly as it came, the moment passes and she is thrust back into her real world by Giles clearing his throat. And she remembers the thrill of the hunt and the fierce pride she feels protecting the world and the cool, strong hands of her anything but normal boyfriend. This is the life she wants to save. Her life…and his. His existence is too precious to her now.

“We’ll be there soon, Giles. Keep working, okay?” Buffy moves the phone to the receiver even as Giles answers and lets it slide down with a click. Hand steady on the handset, she doesn’t move for a few seconds. A shudder runs through her.

Spike leans his head down, chin resting on her shoulder. The quiet extends, the low hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the kitchen. Buffy’s hand moves to slide up Spike’s cheek and he leans slightly into the warm touch.

“Why can’t we stay right here, Spike?” Her voice is quiet with a slight tremor running through it. “Just ignore it all and hide here?” Buffy pulls away and turns around to look up at him. Tears tremble on the edge of her eyelids.

Spike cocks his head, looking down at his Slayer with quiet blue eyes. Calm beyond reason in the face of his existence being so threatened. He reaches out to tuck a loose bit of hair behind her ear. “You know we can’t, Buffy.” The first few tears roll down Buffy’s cheeks. She nods, wiping them away and struggling for the brave face that has escaped her. “Let’s nip upstairs for a shower, eh, love? Rupert’s waitin’ on us.” Buffy looks up at this Spike. The strong one, the one that takes care of her. Loves him just as much as every other face he has shown her.

She nods again and follows him upstairs. Already undressed, they go straight into the bathroom and Spike leans over to turn on the hot water. Buffy stands very still in the small space, feeling tiny and fragile, arms wrapped tight around her. The room begins to steam almost instantly, but she still feels cold.

Spike turns back to her and is struck by a sharp pain and a need to give comfort to this lost girl in front of him. He pulls her into his arms and she lets out one soft sob into his chest. She feels his back tense.

“That’s enough, love. I won’t have it. Have you forgotten what I told you last night?” Buffy pulls back at the low serious tone from Spike and lifts her eyes to meet his firm gaze. “I won’t have you mourn me while I stand right in front of you. Do you understand? This prophecy could be complete bollocks, for all we know. Am I right?” His expression borders on anger and Buffy stiffens slightly.

Buffy sniffs. “Yeah.”

“Come on, that’s not too convincing.”

Wiping her eyes, Buffy stands up a little straighter, leveling her hazel eyes on his. “Yes.”

“And I’ve lived a bloody long time, haven’t I?”

“Yes.” Her voice gains a little strength.

“I’m a survivor, always have been.” Spike takes Buffy firmly by the chin, staring deep into her eyes with a focus she has only seen on the hunt. “So, don’t count me out, got it?”

Buffy swallows. “Got it.”

With that, Spike’s voice softens slightly. “You’ll just have to trust me, pet. I’m going to try and be a hero. It’s a new thing for me, y’know? Think I’d be nervous as all hell, but I only have to do one thing to know how to be one.”

“What’s that?”

“Just look at you. Been watching you in action for years. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. Not just strong in your fighting, but here. Where it really matters.” Spike’s hand rests over Buffy’s pounding heart, pressing firmly into her skin until he can count the beats. “Your heart, your spirit. It’s what made me want to fight you. It’s what makes me want to love you.” He pauses. “It’s what makes you.”

A surge of love courses through Buffy as she looks at Spike. Her mouth opens as she tries to find the words. Stumped, Buffy moves closer and Spike circles her with his arms. She leans into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Her breath is hot against his neck and she whispers, “You’re part of me now, Spike. Part of what makes me.” Spike closes his eyes and holds her a little tighter. Buffy’s heart beats hard against his chest as he takes in her words. Nobody has made him feel like trying this hard in so many years. Trying to find the right path. That he could even want to do right is beyond belief. His only reply is a light kiss to the top of her forehead as Spike continues to hold her tightly.

They stay just that way for a few minutes. Slayer gaining strength from the vampire as he draws it from her in turn. Spike’s hands run lightly up and down her back, fingertips dancing over smooth warm skin. Buffy’s fingers clutch his upper arms, feeling the tight muscles twitch. She could live and die in this moment, but knows the next one is pushing for its turn. With a sigh, Buffy turns toward the shower, pulling him with her.

After adjusting the temperature, Buffy steps in and under the stream of hot water. Eyes closed, she lets the water run over her, feeling the trail of heat down her body. Spike stands just outside the water, looking at her with a heat of his own. Her skin superheated, Buffy finally opens her eyes to find Spike watching her. Cheeks pink and skin hot to the touch, she grabs Spike by the hand and pulls him into the water. Spike flinches slightly at the warmth of her hands and the stream of water. As his body melts into hers, they feel themselves relax, muscles loosening, skin coming to life.

With movements both slow and intense, they take turns washing each other’s bodies. Soapy hot water runs in rivulets over curves and hard planes, washing away tears and worry, scalding away fear. They let themselves fall into the moment, water leaving them fresh and new.

Body freshly scrubbed and glowing, Buffy lets her hands trail down Spike’s chest, following the water on its path. Spike raises an eyebrow as her hands travel lower and lower. She leans in for a wet kiss right as her hands reach his cock, grasping gently, rubbing lightly. His moan is lost in her mouth as he feels his erection begin to grow. His entire body is warm from the steam of the shower and Buffy marvels at how he feels in her hands. Almost living. For just a moment, he is human in her arms. She’s not sure what to make of it. One hand still in place, she pulls away enough to meet his gaze. Blond curls falling every which way, face slightly flushed, eyes crystal blue, he is breathtaking.

“What is it, love?” Spike cups one of her breasts in his hand as he moves forward to nuzzle her neck, water pouring over them.

“Nothing, you just feel different. Warm.”

“Like it?” His nuzzle turns into nibbles and Buffy slaps her left hand flat on the wall to hold herself steady. Her right hand continues working its magic down below.

“Mmm-hmm. Just different. I like you at any temperature. All-temperature Spike.” She grins lightly, losing herself in the pleasure of a shower with her boyfriend. Her currently warm and nearly human boyfriend.

For a fleeting moment, Spike wonders what it would be like to be human. Wonders if that’s what Buffy really wants, really needs. Her voice was a little…yearning? He knows she loves him like he is, but he can’t help think her life would be easier if he, well, had one. He sighs.

“What’s the matter, Spike?” Buffy pauses when she hears him. Spike realizes these kinds of thoughts are the last thing either one of them need to deal with at the moment. Bigger fish to fry.

“Nothing, pet. Not one thing.” As his eyes rake up and down her naked form, Buffy feels her blood rush up to her face and down between her legs at the same time. With just a look, he makes her wetter than the shower ever could. In the next moment, Buffy feels cold tile pressing against her bare back and a warm Spike between her legs. The worries in their heads run off their entwined bodies like so much water and they stay there until the shower runs cold.

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Later that afternoon, a grim-faced Slayer and a brassed-off vampire storm back into the Summers home.

“That was it? I spent the whole day locked away in that dim, dusty apartment to find out that there is still NOTHING we can do about it?” Buffy spins on Spike, eyes flashing dangerously, only to meet the same expression in deep dark blue. He picks up where she left off.

“Goddamn bloody right, Buffy! What a bleedin’ waste of time. Still gonna die tonight and all the flowery language in the world won’t stop it! Can’t believe he kept us there for nothing.” Spike whips off his duster in a fury and flings it on the couch. Spinning around to continue his tirade, he doesn’t see Buffy at first. Then he notices the small form sitting on the stairs. Crumpled, more like. Head in her hands, little shoulders shaking in all too familiar posture. “Oh, balls. Buffy, love, I’m sorry. I shot my mouth off, it’s what I do. There’s still a chance. There’s still time, pet. Please, stop.” He crouches down in front of her, hands on her knees, face pleading.

But she is gone, Buffy is lost. Awash. Finally, she lifts her face, sodden and flushed. Still trembling. “Oh but Spike, it’s true. I let myself hope all day and it was for nothing. Nothing. Stupid Sumerian version of the prophecy didn’t help. Just said things in a different order, different words. Same message.”

Shattered by the vision in front of him, Spike softens instantly, his voice goes gentle. “Watcher was trying to help, pet.” He brushes her hair from her face with both hands. “Can’t help it if he couldn’t find the answer. There may not be one.” Spike remembers the naked anguish on Giles’ face when they left. The scent of failure stale in the air. The fact that he let them go only made the two of them despair further. Mere hours before the pre-destined events and they were no closer to an answer that saved Spike than they were last night. Despite hours of full Scooby (plus Spike) research. Research of the most tedious kind, scouring book after book of prophecy. Cross-checking every term in the original prophecy. Translating, analyzing…and nothing.

Buffy digs into her jacket pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. The paper Giles made for her. Smeared black ink scrawls across the page. The prophecy, in plain English.

While Spike watches her with concern, Buffy reads it over and over again. The last line causes the lump in her throat to tighten every time. ‘His existence is the price.’ She wipes her face on her sleeve and takes a deep breath.

She lifts her face to Spike’s, words trapped in her constricted throat, fresh tears trying to fight their way to the surface. Her voice is soft, strained. “It’s too high a price, Spike.” Spike pulls her from the stairs and into his arms, her next words muffled in his chest.

“Too high.”


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Author’s Note: Yeah, monster delays! Sorry! Thanks for reading and reviewing (and being patient) – it’s hugely appreciated. –Tiana :)