Chapter 88 - Visits

Spike noticed that there were an increasing number of flowers being delivered to the hospital early the next morning. It wasn’t until he saw someone pulling a bundle of balloons down the hallway did he realize why.

It was Valentine’s Day.

Perhaps he should have remembered earlier, but he’d been a bit preoccupied. That, and the fact that he’d only slept about two hours in the last two days. Spike glanced at Buffy, who was sleeping. Valentine’s Day, and she was in the sodding hospital.

They hadn’t talked about it or planned anything, but surely they would have done something. She would have wanted to do something.

Spike stood, walking to the nurse’s station, all the while keeping Buffy’s doorway in view. He leaned on the counter and smiled.

“You got a phonebook?”

An hour and a half later, Buffy’s room was filled with flowers. Every surface, even the floor, had bouquets and baskets. She was still asleep. The deliverymen had brought the flowers up, but Spike had carried them into her room himself. He was setting down the final piece when someone walked in behind him.

“Wow.”

Spike turned. It was the brunette nurse who always tried to talk to him.

“Looks like you bought the place out,” she joked.

He shrugged. She checked on Buffy and wrote something in her chart.

“She’s your wife?” A pause. “Girlfriend?” she asked, when he didn’t respond.

“One or the other,” he said flatly. He usually had a good sense for people, but he could never quite tell if this one was just chatty or was trying to chat him up. At any rate, talking to her annoyed him.

She closed the chart and gave him a put off look, though she left without saying anything else.

Spike sat down and leaned back in the chair. He looked at Buffy, threading his fingers through the ends of her hair.

“She’s my everything.”

-----

When Buffy woke up, she noticed something was different in her room. She stretched and yawned, pushing the button to incline the bed. Spike was sitting next to her in the chair. And there were flowers everywhere.

“It’s much prettier in here than when I went to sleep,” she said. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. And thank you.”

“What makes you think it was me?” he asked, deadpan.

She laughed. “Come on, Spike. You’re just sitting there, not commenting on the appearance of mysterious flowers. Besides, who else would do it?”

He smiled. “Well, you’ve got me there.”

“But why all of them now?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh. I guess I sort of forgot, what with the near death experience. But it’s a very nice present.” Buffy looked around again. “What did you do, call up the florist and say, ‘Send over one of everything?’”

“More or less. So what do you like?”

“For future reference, I hope?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I like the roses. And the lilies. And those,” she said, pointing. “I like those, and I’m not even sure what they are.” Buffy inhaled. “It smells so flowery in here.”

“It smells sickeningly sweet,” Spike said, wrinkling his nose slightly. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Too much for a vampire?”

“It’s a little stifling.”

“Well, it’s much better than that hospital smell. I can’t imagine that’s any better for you. But I definitely like them.”

Buffy scooted over on the bed, and Spike joined her. She leaned back against him, and he wrapped one arm around her, mindful of her injury.

She sighed. “I suppose this isn’t the ideal way to spend Valentine’s Day in bed.”

Spike pressed his head to hers. “I think it’s just fine.”

Buffy relaxed, her head settling against his shoulder. It was quiet and peaceful, and even though it was the hospital, it suddenly felt like a Moment. She would tell him.

Buffy craned her neck back, looking up at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

She must have gotten a funny look on her face, because he said, “What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s fine. I guess I was just expecting more of a reaction. It’s the first time I’ve told you, is all.”

Now Spike was the one with a funny look. “Buffy, you’ve said it twice.”

“Huh? When?”

He shifted. “At the mansion, when you were—down. And then when you woke up here.”

“Oh,” she said, her face falling. “I don’t remember. I guess that’s fine. Was it…memorable?”

“It was.” Something flashed across his face. “Of course, I also thought I might never see you wake up again.”

“Oh. I don’t remember,” she said again.

“What do you remember?”

“I remember fighting Drusilla,” Buffy said slowly. “I remember him cutting me. And then I killed him and I fell. And then…I was here. I don’t know, I remember sometime yesterday. But it’s not like I only said it because I was dying or drugged up,” she added. “I knew I loved you before that…I just couldn’t find the right time to tell you.”

Spike kissed her forehead. “You can tell me all you want.”

Buffy smiled. “I might just do that.”

-----

Her mother came by for a long visit, though her friends were in and then quickly out. Apparently since it was Valentine’s Day, and since they were coupled off, they had plans. Giles arrived just before sunset, and Buffy could tell the moment he walked into the room that he wasn’t really here for a social call. And he didn’t comment on her pretty flowers at all.

“May we talk?”

“Yeah. I guess.” She gave Spike a look, and after a moment, he untangled himself from her and stood.

“Got an errand to run anyway,” he said.

As Spike walked out, Giles pulled the chair back several feet and positioned it where he could sit facing her. “Forgive me for taking advantage of having a captive audience.”

“You want to talk about Spike.”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Okay. What, exactly?”

“I will admit that despite being a vampire, he seems to care for you.”

“But?” she asked, hearing it in his voice.

“But I still question the wisdom of associating with him.”

“After everything you’ve seen him do for me?”

“You may have reason to trust him, but I don’t. Spike has done something for you; he’s done something against many others. I know what his past is.”

“So do I.”

“Do you know how impulsive he is? This may be perfectly satisfactory at present, but what happens when he changes his mind? When he decides that it’s no longer amusing to—”

“To be with me?” she asked, arching a brow.

“To play at this,” Giles said.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “I’m not a game to him. And he’s not impulsive about things that are important to him.”

Giles scooted the chair closer. “I’m merely concerned, Buffy—and justifiably so, I believe—that the appeal of this particular situation will wear off, and that one day you’ll find yourself with a vampire who no longer wants what you do. You’ll trust him, and you won’t know that the rules have changed.”

“Spike is not going to turn on me. He’s had plenty of chances to kill me if he wanted to. He doesn’t want me dead and he never will.”

“Yes, and that would be the definition of ‘turning on,’” he said. “Changing from one objective to another without warning.”

“That’s just what Wesley said, that Spike was going to get bored playing nice, get bored with me, and just do it one day. But you’re not getting it. He loves me. There’s no turning on that. There’s no changing that. And he’s never going to do anything to hurt me.”

Giles stared at her, pensive. He was trying, she had to give him that. He was actually considering what she was saying.

“We have a relationship,” Buffy continued. “It’s real. It’s serious. It’s not always easy and it’s definitely complicated, but it’s not something he’s trying out. In fact, you have no idea how hard it was to get him in a relationship—God, now I sound like one of those girls whose only goal is to land a man. What I mean is, he actively avoided getting involved in the beginning; it’s not like he thought dating a human would be a fun new experiment.” She paused. “The things Spike’s done for me—you don’t do those for a casual fling. He’s never going to hurt me.”

Giles was silent for another moment. Then, as if it pained him to admit it, he said, “It is true that you were bleeding all over him and he didn’t do anything…vampiric.”

“It’s not like he hasn’t had my blood before.” The words in her brain escaped from her mouth. Maybe it was the morphine. Maybe she was sick of lying to everyone.

Giles was flabbergasted. “He’s fed off you?”

“‘Fed off?’ God Giles, Animal Kingdom much?”

“You gave him your blood? Willingly?”

“Yeah. I do.” She crossed her arms. “And it’s our business, and clearly I’m still here, so that’s that.”

Giles took off his glasses, polishing them while he searched for something to say. Finally, he said, “You put yourself in danger every time you let him drink.”

“No, I really don’t.”

“It’s a risk to your life.”

“It’s really not. And I don’t think we can discuss this.”

He looked like he was going to continue to argue. But he only said, “If something happens to you because of him—”

“It won’t,” she said firmly.

There was another silence. Giles exhaled and leaned back. “And you say that he’s doing nothing?”

It took Buffy a moment to realize what he meant. “Spike isn’t hurting anyone,” she replied. “He’s not killing. And he won’t be.”

“He does what you say?”

“I’m not…his boss. But he’s not going to do what he knows I can’t live with.”

“I see.” Giles paused. Then, “I have noticed that he’s ruthlessly protective of you.”

She frowned. “And this is a bad thing we need to talk about?”

“And if it’s not a demon after you? What happens if it’s someone human?”

Buffy fell silent. It was only for a second, but Giles’s eyes suddenly widened.

“It’s already happened, hasn’t it?” he asked shrewdly. “He’s done something to someone before.” He exhaled again, putting a hand to his head. “There’s nothing about this whole situation that I shouldn’t report to the Council, you know.”

“Don’t, Giles. Seriously. And not just because I’d like to avoid them. But if they send some SWAT team after me, I don’t think—I won’t be able to stop him. The last person who actually seriously threatened me—Spike—he…”

“And what do you think you could stop him from doing?”

“Well, I stopped him from killing you,” she snapped. Upon seeing his face, she quickly continued. “The Cruciamentum. He was so angry about—what you did to me.”

“I see.” Giles cleared his throat. “You realize this isn’t making a case in his favor.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure as long as you don’t try to kill me, we won’t have that problem again.”

“I hardly call it ‘trying to kill you.’”

“What would you call it?” Buffy demanded. “Taking away my powers without telling me—I was walking around after dark having no idea that I was just a girl again. The next idiot vampire around the corner could have killed me before I’d ever done your stupid test.”

“It was not ‘my’ test. And the point of the Cruciamentum is for the Slayer to be resourceful and not rely on her strength.”

“Which is all well and good, except for the fact that of course I’d be relying on my strength, since I thought I had it and all!”

He ignored her point and said, “I assume Spike took issue with my involvement.”

“Yeah, you could say that. Turns out he does call stupidly risking my life ‘trying to kill me.’ So…yeah. He wasn’t happy. But—it’s fine now. Obviously that’s something that I couldn’t live with.”

Giles fell silent again. “Whom did he kill before?”

Buffy sighed. “Remember when I said I was almost kidnapped?”

“He killed someone for trying to kidnap you?”

“No,” she said evenly. “He didn’t kill someone for just trying to kidnap me. There was more. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Giles regarded her. “And you’re fine with that being the solution?”

“No, I’m not fine. But given what was going— I just can’t summon the outrage. Maybe that makes me an awful person. I didn’t find out until much later what he’d done. But it was done.”

He shook his head. “You’ve got a vampire practically killing at your command—”

“Now you’re reaching.”

Giles’s expression said that he was anything but reaching. Connecting the dots wasn’t hard. A vampire who would not kill because she said so would certainly not have a problem doing what was natural for him if she purposely turned the other way.

Buffy looked at him squarely. “I’m not the commandy type.”

-----

Spike came back later, and revealed a box of chocolates once they were alone. They spent the evening cuddled together in bed, him intermittently feeding her candy. Despite her being in the hospital, it was really the best Valentine’s Day that she’d had.

Buffy was released the next morning. She was given antibiotics and pain pills, and a long list of things that she wasn’t supposed to do and the length of time that she wasn’t supposed to do them. Even as the doctor was talking, she could tell he didn’t believe it himself. It was obvious that in only four days, she had healed more than most people did when they came back for a checkup. Buffy was already planning to miss her appointment, because she surely wouldn’t have an explanation for being perfectly fine by then.

Joyce was still running on overprotective and worried mode, and had insisted that Buffy come home to finish ‘recovering.’

Buffy hadn’t objected, but as she’d gotten settled in her room, said, “Spike’s staying here, too.”

“Buffy, we talked about this.”

“I can just as easily lie around over there,” Buffy said. “But I’d rather do it here. There’s an easier shower, more food, and Spike doesn’t know how to cook. But I want him here with me. We’re hardly going to be getting up to anything,” she said bluntly. “Internal injuries, remember?”

Joyce sighed. “I suppose.”

And that was that. Spike was sleeping in her room ten minutes later. And he was really sleeping. Abruptly, she realized that if there had been a chance of some vampire finding her in the hospital, Spike had probably stayed awake all night when he was there with her, and had only gotten a bit of sleep when the others were there during the day.

Buffy sat down next to him on the bed. It was rare that she got a chance to see him actually sleep. Usually, if she was awake, he was awake. Or he would wake up quickly, some internal sense alerting him that he was being watched. But now, he was completely out of it. He was peaceful and still and totally relaxed.

She could just sit here with him.

But she heard the sounds of her mother letting Willow and Xander in downstairs. Buffy slowly got up and went down to see them. She was able to get around just fine now. It was nothing like it had been the first time she’d gotten out of bed at the hospital. Slaying was still out, but everyday activities were no problem.

“Hey, it’s the Buffster under her own power.”

(She still thought the thing where she had to be pushed in a wheelchair from her hospital room to the car was stupid—especially with everyone trailing behind her.)

Willow and Xander were helping her mother carry in the rest of the flowers. “Where do you want these, Mrs. Summers?” he asked.

“Just anywhere. The coffee table is fine,” she said, setting down a vase. “Really, Buffy, this was very sweet of Spike, but I don’t know what we’re going to do with all these.”

“Just spread them out,” Buffy said. “I like them. And I already left some of the smaller things at the hospital. One of the nurses said she’d put them in a few rooms to brighten them up.”

Willow set down a bouquet. “I think it’s romantic.”

She sat down on the couch with Buffy as Joyce left the room. Xander planted himself in the chair.

“Well, that and saying he’s her husband to get into ICU,” she continued.

“Spike said what?” Buffy asked.

“You didn’t know?” Willow asked. “The doctor asked if he was family, and he was all, ‘She’s my wife.’”

“I…didn’t know that.” Buffy bit back a smile. That was sort of romantic. Then she sighed. “I talked to Giles yesterday.”

“And?”

“He’s still, y’know, coping with Spike. He’s worried something horrible is going to happen in the future, even if things are fine now. Though I think he’s coming around. I didn’t expect him to be automatically okay with it. I’m just glad he didn’t jump right to ‘kill the vampire.’”

“That is what we do most of the time,” Xander said.

Buffy turned to him. “And what about you?”

“I suppose he’s all right. For a vampire. That I’ve only known for five days.” He sighed. “Look, I’m not going to be the guy that starts the vampire fan club. I don’t like vampires. I pretty much think they’re bad. But, this guy seems to have a major like for you, and there is a surprising lack of bloodshed following you around. So, I’m neutral. I’m Switzerland.”

Buffy nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Willow filled me in on things. I’m willing to take your word for it…and see what I see. I’m not ready to walk alone down a dark alley with him, but I don’t think he’s plotting our deaths, either.”

“Oh, he more than likes her,” Willow said.

“He was crying when we brought you to the hospital,” Xander admitted.

“Spike was crying?” Buffy asked. “Actually crying?”

“They were very manly tears,” he said.

“I’m sure.”

Spike in tears and pretending to be her husband. It wasn’t totally inconceivable, given the circumstances. But wow.

After Willow and Xander left, Buffy went upstairs and curled up next to Spike. He stirred long enough to put his arm around her and then went back to sleep. He was completely still beside her. Buffy lay awake for a long time, just enjoying it. She and Spike had spent plenty of time together in the last few days, but it was so good to be home.

There was no noise echoing from carts rolling down the hallway, no nurse coming in to check on her, no patients grumbling outside. Just her own bed, a semi-dark room, and the muffled sounds of midday—a car driving past, birds chirping, someone’s lawnmower. It was unbelievably refreshing.

But she was still tired. Even as she was enjoying the quiet afternoon, she found herself drifting off. Buffy ended up dozing for most of the day, hanging in that drowsy place that’s just short of being conscious. She was aware that she was sleeping the afternoon away, but she couldn’t quite slip out of it enough to fully wake up. But it was peaceful and perfect here with him, so she stayed.