Title: Checkers
 
Author: Anne Rose
 
Email: anne3rose@yahoo.com
 
URL: http://annerose.cjb.net
http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=47579 
 
Rating: PG-13
 
Spoilers: Intervention and beyond
 
Summary: S/B, Follow-up to Intervention (the Buffybot episode).  What
happened after Buffy left Spike's crypt?
 
Archive: Yes.  I would be honored if you want to archive it.  Please
let me know where so I can visit it. 
 
Author's Note: Thanks to Caffey and Spiletta for ripping this story
apart and helping me fix several issues and confusing bits.  Thanks to
Hubby for initial plot help and Raven and Tamytha for catching even
more of my typos.  Thanks to the Buffy Dialog Database
(http://vrya.cstone.net/index.htm) and the Buffy Guide
(http://www.buffyguide.com/episodes.shtml) for help with research and
parts of episodes.  (c) August 15, 2002
 
Disclaimer:  Joss and Mutant Enemy, etc... own BtVS.  No infringement
intended.  Any resemblance to people living, dead, or undead, or to
real life events is all in your mind, is downright scary, and means you
seriously need to get a life.
 
~*~*~*~
 
Checkers
by Anne Rose
 
 
Part 2
 
~*~*~
 
Spike stared after her for a moment, not knowing what to think.  Then
the pain and exhaustion got the better of him and he collapsed back
onto the sarcophagus.  The effort to sit up and talk to her had drained
his last ounce of strength.  He closed his eyes and replayed her kiss
in his mind, trying to concentrate on the feel of her lips on his,
instead of the open wounds that were screaming at him.
 
She was mad about the robot.  That was clear.  But it hadn't totally
negated what he had endured to protect Nibblet.  Maybe today wasn't the
worst day of his existence after all.  The only other time she'd kissed
him, outside of his dreams, was when Red's spell had gone wrong.
 
And he could still smell her; taste her, as if she was still there. 
Spike was so caught up in his thoughts that he was taken by surprise
when he heard the microwave beeping.  He turned his head slightly, and
thought about opening his eyes, but it was too much effort.
 
A few moments later he was aware of an arm sliding around his shoulders
and of being lifted into a sitting position.  He smelled blood and
opened his mouth slightly when he felt the tip of the straw against his
lips.
 
"Drink," he heard her say.  He obliged, sucking in the warm, thick
liquid.  When the mug was empty, he felt himself being laid back down
again.  Idly, he wondered if she would leave now, and the thought
saddened him.  He'd done it again.  Risked his life for the Slayer and
what did he have to show for it?  Open, bleeding wounds, deep purple
bruises, a series of cuts and abrasions - and a kiss.  
 
At least he thought he remembered a kiss.  He could still feel her on
his lips - it seemed so unreal; maybe it was a dream from his battered
brain.  
 
He was brought back from his musings by the sound of the microwave
beeping again.  'Or was it the first time,' he wondered.  He had lost
track of the flow of time.  He felt the warm arm reach around him,
propping him up, leaning him against her soft body.  Spike stopped
trying to figure things out.  If this was a hallucination, it was
better than dreaming about Glory.
 
He felt the straw against his lips again.  Halfway through the second
mug he stopped suddenly, the taste finally soaking through to his brain
- human, not pig's blood.  "Slayer?"  Hee asked, befuddled.  He tried to
open his eyes and look at her, but they were both swollen shut.  "Where
d'you get this?"
 
"Uh, from Ben, at the hospital," Buffy said.  "Is it ok?  They were
about to throw it out, so it's not fresh, but I thought you'd heal
faster on human blood."
 
"S'wonderful, Pet," he slurred as he finished sucking down the rest of
his meal.
 
The process was repeated several more times over the next few hours -
at least it seemed like hours.  Spike lost count, but each time he felt
a bit stronger.  He slept in between feedings, and at some point he
realized he'd been moved off the hard sarcophagus onto something
softer.  He was slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings as the
pain started to retreat and his brain began to clear.  
 
This time when Buffy sat him up to feed him, he was aware of her hand
gently rubbing his back as she supported him.  He nestled into her warm
body as he slurped from the mug.  He tried again to open his eyes and
found that he could force them open, just a slit.  Her forehead was
creased with worry, but she brightened when she saw him look at her. 
"Finally back among the living?"
 
Spike coughed.  His chest rattled as he laughed quietly.  "In a manner
of speaking.  Still knackered, but on the mend."  She smiled at him and
all the pain melted away for a moment.  "Not that I'm complaining, Luv,
but what's with Florence Nightingale routine?"
 
Buffy shrugged and gingerly set the cup aside.  "You took one for the
team, so I'm here making sure you get back in the game."
 
Spike smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek.  He
was pleased when she didn't pull back.  "Since when did you start using
sport metaphors?"
 
She looked away from him nervously.  "I guess Xander is rubbing off on
me."  
 
Spike raised an eyebrow slightly.  "I hope not."  He smirked as she
chuckled, getting his meaning.
 
"It's funny though.  Xander almost suggested that we fix the bot for
you.  I couldn't believe it.  I've never heard him say anything
remotely nice about you.  Then when I saw you laying there..."  She
never finished the sentence, but he had his answer.
 
He wanted to keep looking at her, hoping she would smile at him again,
but his eyelids were so heavy he couldn't keep them open.  With a sigh
he slumped against her, dropping his free arm across her legs.
 
Buffy laid him back down, and tucked the blanket around him.  Dimly, he
was aware of still being warm as he drifted back to sleep.
 
~*~*~
 
 
TBC...