Strip Snap by Lilachigh
Chapter 8 Going it Alone
The sun beat down on Buffy’s head as she rowed back across the lake to where they had left the car the night before. She could feel the blisters begin to burn on her hands as the smooth wood of the oars rubbed at her flesh.
The skimpy shorts she was wearing bit into her backside as she slid across the seat, trying to put all her Slayer strength into every stroke.
The air above the lake danced in the heat but inside her she could still feel the chill certainty of knowing Spike was dying from the poison the Tazksha demon had flung across his body. And if he died - nausea flooded her throat - if he died, she could go on living, but it would only be a half life.
‘I must find someone must help us,” she muttered, gasping as the blade of the oar missed the water and almost sent her sprawling.
God how difficult rowing was. Spike had made it look so easy the night before when it had been all moonlight and fun and hot, passionate sex that had made her very bones melt.
‘Just let me get home,’ she prayed. ‘I’ll run and run and find someone - ’
Suddenly, a thought bit through her brain and she stopped rowing and leant on the oars, staring back at the island where the vampire lay, fighting for his sanity against the pain that had taken over his entire being.
The land she was gazing at shimmered in the heat haze, as if it was a distant fairyland, about to vanish into the mists.
The brutal fact was - no one was going to help her save Spike. There - that was what her brain had been trying to tell her. She was looking for help, afraid to trust her own powers again. As she had done after she killed Angel and fled to L.A. ; after her mother had died. Scared to cope with Dawn on her own, desperate for someone to be there for her.
And when Willow had brought her back from the dead, all she’d wanted was to return to the heaven she’d left, to the peace and serenity, absolved from making big decisions, of having to be in control, the one everyone relied on.
And the only person who’d been there for her then, always on her side, always around when needed, needed her now.
Buffy knew what would happen if she returned to Sunnydale. Xander would flap around, saying he would help, but privately glad the vampire was dying. Willow would insist she couldn’t use magic any more, Anya would offer books and sell her potions, Tara would have some suggestions, but at the end of the day, it would be too little and too late.
No, she was the Slayer and this was a demon problem. And this time she was going to face up to what lay ahead and cope with it by herself.
She spun the boat round and raced for the island again, ignoring the pain in her hands, the sunburn on her bare arms and neck.
The path up through the woods was blissfully cool. Buffy pushed her way through the bushes, fighting the brambles that reached out to scratch at her legs. She needed to get to Spike - fast. Whatever happened, they had to face this together.
‘Spike - listen - we have to - ’ Buffy burst through the door into the little cabin and swerved to a stop. It was empty! Spike had vanished.
She gazed round, her heart racing. No ashes, the sunlight hadn’t pierced through the window and caught him while he was unconscious. No, she thought grimly, she knew exactly what her lover had done. He’d been determined she wouldn’ see him in pain, wouldn’t watch him to mad and die, and had somehow managed to drag himself outside.
But it was broad daylight! He couldn’t be outside - unless - ice froze the blood in her veins. Would he have gone that far? Tried to commit suicide to stop the pain? To end his torment?
“Spike! Answer me! Where the hell are you?”
Frantically, she gazed round the little room. There was nowhere for him to be. The cupboards were too small. The tiny bathroom off to one side held a toilet and a glass shower cubicle - not even a curtain for him to hide behind.
Buffy dragged her fingers through her blonde hair. She was about to race outside and hunt under the bushes when she noticed one of the cotton rugs on the floor was rucked up in an odd fashion.
Kicking it aside, she felt her hopes soar. There was a trap door in the wooden floor. The hut had some sort of cellar.
She grabbed the metal ring that was set flush to the ground and heaved. The ease with which the trapdoor swung upwards on its hinges confirmed that it had been opened only recently.
“Spike!”
No reply.
There was a flight of wooden steps leading down into the dark and a light switch. Buffy flicked it on and gasped. Lying on the earth floor at the foot of the ladder was the vampire.
Buffy hurtled down the steps and, dropping to her knees, pulled Spike over onto his back. Was he alive? How the hell did you check with a vampire? She knew Spike breathed when he didn’t need to. But at the moment his chest was still.
She gazed round the basement. It was bigger than the cabin above, had obviously been built as an extra storage space. There were stacks of tinned and bottled food and drink, towels, swimming-pool toys, tennis rackets, logs and matches - all sorts of odds and ends that had been packed away for holiday use.
Buffy cradled Spike’s head on her lap and brushed the dirt from his cheeks. He was still very cold, and the burns across his chest and arms looked just the same.
‘When the hell is vampire healing going to kick in?’ she muttered. “Spike! Spike! Wake up! William - wake up! Please.” She could feel the tears building inside her and brushed away a couple that fell onto his face. This was no time to dissolve into a sticky mess.
She ran her fingers over the taut skin across his muscled waist. As concerned and worried as she was, she felt a frizzon of excitement at touching him like this. It was weird being able to feast her eyes on him.
Usually when they were together, there was touching and fondinling and, of god, sex of all sorts that turned her to jelly. But she rarely got the chance just to look.
if she did, his hands would reach for her, his voice purr into her ears and it would all start again. She sighed and with a gentle touch, began to examine the burns on his chest, trying to assess if they were any worse when suddenly the long black lashes flickered - once - twice, he opened his eyes and looked up at her.
Oh, thank God, he was still alive!
“Spike - it’s Buffy. I came back. We’ll do this together. Fight it. Get you well again. I promise. Spike, talk to me, please.”
“Madam - I - I seem to have fallen asleep. I do beg your pardon. I must have partaken of strong drink somewhere. Please accept my deepest apologies, for this transgression. Allow me to rise, I beg of you.”
“Spike - why on earth are you speaking like - ” Buffy stared down at him sharply. The blue eyes that usually glinted and sparked at her like twin sapphires were still blue, but had a deep, dreamy quality in them that she’d never seen before.
His face looked softer, the expression worried and - god, what an odd word to use where Spike was concerned - shy! Yes, Spike, lay there, struggling to get up out of her lap and looked shy.
“Spike - what’s the matter? It’s me, Buffy.”
Oh god, she screamed inside her head. Don’t let it be his mind. Please, don’t let the demon poison have sent him insane. I’d rather he was dead than mad.
“Madam, I wish I had had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, but you are a stranger to me. Now, if you would kindly remove your hands from my person, I will need to be on my way home directly. Mother will be waiting for me.”
And as she stared at him in horror, Buffy suddenly realised. William the Bloody had vanished. William the quiet, bookish English gentleman had taken his place!
to be continued
[Reviews - 399]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 4519 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Apologies to readers of this story for long delay in updating. It took me a month - inbetween other stories - to finish chp 8. Then I read it through ready to submit, hated it and deleted the whole thing. Wrote a completely new chapter in half an hour, which tells me something, even if I’m not sure exactly what!