For Hope.

Buffy hurried through the streets, the sense of uneasiness growing as she neared the sewers. Glancing around, she opened the cover of a man-hole and dropped into the cold, damp blackness below. Instinct took over as she faced north in the gloom broken only by the faint light of streetlamps through the grating high above. She began to run through the tunnel towards the source of her unease.

*****

Spike shook silently from loss of blood and exhaustion. He refused to meet the demon’s gaze, staring stubbornly at a patch of light on the floor. The demon snarled. “Vampire, face your death like the beast you are, with fangs and blood.”

Spike kept to his human guise, even when he was beaten again. Finally, he turned his cool blue gaze onto the huge, ugly face of his tormentor. One eye was swollen shut, black bruises all around it. Blood ran from his lip and a cut ran from his left ear to his jaw. And yet his gaze was as cold and arrogant as ever.

“What, death-breath,” he croaked. The demon had moved backwards slightly as Spike looked at him. He smiled painfully. “Scared of me?”

A noise from down the tunnel made them both freeze. Spike feared it was more demons come to torture him further, and shut his eyes tightly.

*****

Buffy ran into the large chamber where Spike was being held, smelling blood and fear instantly, even with her human nose. She gasped when she saw the state the vampire was in, but turned instead to face the huge demon, anger coursing through her body.

“Ah, the Slayer! Vampire, even by refusing, she still comes to save you, and so we still win!” But Spike was muttering something to himself repeatedly, and didn’t listen to the taunting voice of the demon.

Swinging the battle-axe into a ready position, Buffy smiled grimly. “Come on, lumpy.”

The huge demon lunged forward, using all its strength in the charge. Buffy sidestepped neatly, and landed a crashing blow on the back of the sore-ridden demon as it swung to face her again. It reached out with a claw and caught her shoulder, causing her to wince in pain, but she held on tightly and kicked out as the demon lumbered towards her again, swiping at the air above her head as she ducked just in time.

She rolled over and to her feet again, swinging the axe and slicing one of the demon’s arms off. It roared in pain and fury, lowering its head and trying to gore her with its horns. One caught her and ripped through the material of her shirt, scoring a red line as it tore the skin of her stomach and making her hiss in pain. She glared at it. “That was my favourite shirt, asshole,” she said through gritted teeth. With deadly grace, she ducked, spun and lodged the axe into the stomach of the demon, watching with detached disgust as it bellowed in pain and sank to its knees, the dark, thick blood flowing from it in waves of foul-smelling fluid. With a final roar and a shudder that shook its whole body, the beast moaned and sank onto its side, dead.

Buffy prodded it carefully with the toe of her boot, then, satisfied, turned to Spike. The blonde vampire was semi-conscious and babbling incoherently to himself.

She walked over to him slowly and laid a hand on his shoulder. Spike flinched and muttered louder, and Buffy could just make out some of the words. “-not worth it, not wanted....evil vampire wouldn’t tell, die anyway...cant do anything right.”

“Spike,” she said softly. “Spike, wake up.”

Spike opened his eyes painfully, trying to focus on Buffy. “Slayer...Buffy?”

She nodded, and Spike closed his eyes. “Better run, pet. Demon wants to-

“Demon’s dead, Spike.”

“You’re sure?” he stared at her with wide, frightened eyes, sure it had to be a trick. “You can’t be real...I didn’t tell him about her. I told him....he was going to kill me because I wouldn’t hurt her. You’re just a figment.”

Buffy felt her pulse quicken as he spoke. He’d been tortured because of her? And he hadn’t said anything? A sudden wave of gratitude and...love? filled her. She untied his ropes silently and allowed him to rest on her, being careful of his horrific wounds. He looked deep into her eyes, and finally recognition shone in the azure depths. “Buffy.”

She nodded and kissed him gently before helping him to walk out with her, throwing his jacket over his shoulders on the way.

*****

Spike awoke in sheets that smelled of unmistakably of Buffy. Immediately he was wide awake. He was in Buffy’s bed! He sat up and felt a searing jolt of pain burn through him. He growled and opened his eyes blearily. Buffy sat beside him, dabbing at his wounds with a damp cloth. “Hey, sleepy,” she said quietly.

Spike blinked, expecting her to disappear. But he still felt the electric tingles on his skin as her soft, gentle hands touched him, and could still catch her scent all around him. “Buffy?”

A warm hand on his cheek was his reply, and he sighed, shutting his eyes to the world for a moment. “Thank you.”

“No, Spike. Thank you.”

He looked up at her. “What for, pet?”

“I know what you did for me last night. Ah-

She interrupted his excuse. “-And I remembered what I said. Unless you could prove you loved me, I could never love you.”

Spike trembled as he felt her lips on his chest, trailing light kisses up towards his neck and biting softly.

“You did it. I think I can love you now.” She kissed him softly on the lips before pulling back, and his eyes searched for the truth in her hazel ones. Finding it, he smiled uncertainly. “Oh.”

She smiled back as he touched her cheek lightly, trying to make sure she was real and not some cruel dream. “Buffy....I love you...” he whispered.

“I know,” she replied. Not exactly the magic words, but to Spike they were the sweetest he’d ever heard. He had a hope.

******
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