| Dawnty's Inferno Part 8 Author: Jerri Cocke Summary: Dawn and Spike share a friendship that no one else would understand. Disclaimer: Joss owns all, I own none. I do try not to break them to badly before I return them. The Sex Pistols own Anarchy in the U.K. Distribution: If you have, take. If not, ask. Spoilers: The Body Feedback: It gives me a happy. Dawn gasped in horror, bruises and cuts covered Spike's otherwise perfect body, and, ewww, was that a hole in his chest? Buffy and the others had told her what had happened. It had taken Buffy forever to admit it, but Spike had nearly died to protect her. Buffy was all, he doesn't want to see me hurt. He's protecting you to protect me. Ha...I know better, he protected me, because he loves me, and he would die before he would let anyone hurt me. She heard a slight noise and realized that Spike was waking up. Carefully, she set her backpack in his ratty armchair, and withdrew a tupperware container of warm blood. The teen-ager carried it over to the groaning blonde, and sat it carefully on the slab that served as his bed, and helped him to sit up. As he leaned his battered head against her shoulder, she opened the container and watched in fascination as he morphed at the first whiff of blood. Raising the container to his lips, Dawn tipped the first mouthful of blood since his brilliant plan had led to his escape from that utterly demented God bint. His pain began to ease as he drained the container of human...wait just a bleedin minute. "Kitten, where in the name of Satan did you get human blood?" He drank deeply, as he waited for the girl's reply. "Well..." She was going to tie her fingers into knots ala Dru if she didn't quit twisting them up like that. "I heard how bad you were hurt, and I knew nobody would think of you needing to feed, and I eavesdropped on Willow and Buffy once..." A scarred eyebrow shot up, "Just the once, now why do I have a problem believing that one, Kitten." One patented Dawn dirty look later, she continued, "Anyway, I heard them talking about vampire's needing human blood to heal, so I went to Willie's and told him I had a special order for you. He kinda turned white and gave me the blood." Spike licked the blood from his fangs, then smoothed his ridge's back into his handsome mask. He felt much better. he had been thinking as he had lain there, suffering the agony that Glory had inflicted on him. "Little bit, it's time for us to go. This Glory bint is to close. It won't be long before she finds you. It's not safe for you anymore. I'm sorry Kitten, but the Slayer can't protect you. I've had things set up for a while, will you go with me?" The teen-ager looked at the vampire as she thought. She was scared, very scared. She loved her sister and the Scoobies, but she trusted Spike. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew...he would keep her safe and protected. She would see her sister again someday, when it was safe. "Spike, when it's safe, can I see Buffy again?" "Kitten, I promise you, when I know it's safe. When Glory is gone, I'll make arrangements for you to see Buffy. So, Niblett, what's the verdict?" "Spike, I...yes, I'll go with you. But you have to find a way to let Buffy and Giles now that I am safe." Spike levered himself to his feet, and painfully opened the trap door that led to the tunnels and his escape route. The blonde handed Dawn her backpack and gingerly led her into the gloom underneath the crypt. He stopped briefly and pulled several pictures down and tossed them into a packed box. He picked up several of the boxes, and led the way through the dimly lit tunnels. Dawn looked around her in amazement as they opened up into a spacious garage, containing, oh God, it was Spike's baby. The gleaming black Fireflite was aimed at the door. He opened the door and put her in the front seat, then deposited his burdens in the boot. He settled into the driver's seat and looked at her, "Fasten your seat belt, Kitten, it's gonna be a bumpy ride." The old Desoto started with a roar. The engine growled beneath the music that rolled from the speakers. I am an antichrist and I am a anarchist don't know what I want But I know how to get it. I want to destroy, possibly because I want to be anarchy. The Fireflite roared out of the garage, into the night. The only sound the teen-ager made was a startled giggle when Spike ran over the Welcome to Sunnydale sign. If you guys want it, there will be a sequel. Let me know. |