Love In Vein: Book Three - Chapter 7

Rubbing her wet hair with a towel, Buffy paused in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. She looked healthier and for some reason it surprised her.

She almost looked like she used to.

Granted she had been eating almost normally this week, but each day had been so long and she’d been spending so much time in the comforting company of Spike that she was sure she felt even weaker than when she’d first arrived. She surmised that the drain on her energy must have transferred from being a balance of physical and emotional, to almost purely emotional now. She was regaining her strength, but losing the strength of emotion that she’d retained before seeing Spike again.

There was no improvement in him.

She’d spent hours each night looking after him, re-bandaging his fingers and talking to him. He hadn’t told her anything new so far, but he had repeated his warning about not fading away.

He’d repeated it so many times that it was beginning to scare her.

Sleep had been intermittent, punctuated with nightmarish visions of the world burning and Cerberus. The only time she managed to sleep soundly was when she was with Spike, even though she knew she was putting herself in danger by doing so. Giles had warned her enough times for her to see that, making it clear to her that it wasn’t wise to let her guard down around him when she still didn’t know if he was going to go off the deep end again.

Since seeing her the first day she had arrived, Spike had apparently grown calmer and was beginning to hurt himself less and less. Buffy was taking this as a good sign, but Giles seemed to think that there was a chance that her mate’s violence and anger was just building up inside him, and would break to the surface with terrible and unpredictable results.

She didn’t believe this for a second.

Spike’s feelings told her that he was still violent, but it seemed to be a deeper kind of violence. It was as though he was waging an internal war, the kind that gave no outward sign that it was happening.

But she could feel it.

She knew it was happening.

She just didn’t know why.

Tying her damp hair back into tight plait, she slipped into a black cotton blouse and a pair of dark blue jeans. Fastening up her boots, she looked over herself one more time in the mirror and then headed out of her bedroom door.

She smiled.

It had been almost three months since she’d seen them.

She couldn’t wait until they arrived.


Giles watched Buffy as she walked down the corridor towards him. There was a bounce in her walk that he hadn’t seen in a long time and he knew that she was looking forward to getting the chance to spend time with Willow and Tara again.

“Good morning, Buffy.” He greeted her as she finally noticed him and he felt a little easier on seeing her smile.

All this week he’d watched her gradual recovery, a little bit more of her old self coming back each day. Her smiles were getting increasingly genuine and it was nice to see her no longer hiding herself away behind the fake ones she used so everyone wouldn’t push her into getting better.

“Hi.” Buffy beamed at him, feeling almost anxious to see Willow again. “They here yet?”

“Darcy went to pick them up almost four hours ago. They should be here soon.” He reassured her and saw her nod hastily.

It seemed strange to see her so nervous. She’d obviously missed being able to spend time with her friends, and was looking forward to seeing another familiar face in an altogether unfamiliar country.

“Good…” Buffy shot him another smile and then headed into the kitchen. She rummaged about in the cupboards, not taking any notice of the cook as she gave her a black look.

Giles offered an awkward look to the cook and then walked over to Buffy where she was rifling through the fridge. “Cook has prepared some breakfast for you in the other room, Buffy.”

“Sorry…guess I’m used to home, where if mom isn’t around you feed yourself.” She hesitated for a moment and then quietly added under her breath. “And Spike.”

Giles caught it and decided how best to broach the subject as he led her toward the dining room.

Holding the door open for her, he frowned at the gathered Council members as they all went silent and then watched Buffy as she glared at them all. He noted that several of the members began to stare at her neck, interested in the marks that littered it. He cleared his throat and smiled internally as the room was suddenly full of chatter, everyone’s eyes diverted away from Buffy.

She sat at the end of the table and scowled at them all.

She hadn’t missed how they’d looked at her, how intrigued and repulsed they were by the bite marks on her throat. She didn’t care what they thought; they didn’t understand the relationship, the bond that her and Spike shared.

“If you want to be responsible for feeding him…” Giles started and ignored the fact that the room went dead silent again as everyone listened in on his conversation with Buffy. “I can arrange for that. Blood is stored…”

“Stored?” Buffy said in such a way that it was clear to everyone present that she wasn’t considering feeding Spike stored blood. “Animal blood?”

“Buffy…I mean…you weren’t thinking…” Giles whispered hurriedly.

“I’m not going to feed him animal blood, Giles. Spike is sick; he needs strong blood in order to regain his full strength, and that means he needs Slayer blood.” She stated in a matter of fact tone that showed him that she wasn’t going to be swayed from her decision—Spike would be fed her blood, whether Giles liked it or not.

Giles cast a sideward glance at the other people present, noting that every one of them was doing an admirable job of pretending not to listen, even when they obviously were.

“It’s your decision.” He said resignedly and leaned back in his chair. “I can’t stop you. I never could.”

Buffy frowned at him as he said that, her brows knitting tightly as she saw the tiniest hint of disappointment in his eyes. She knew that she was the most troublesome of the Slayer line so far. Faith was just out and out dangerous, but she was defiant, obstinate and independent—three things that combined to make her the most infamous of Slayers.

She never had paid much attention to her Slayer lessons and her Watcher, and he knew it.

But what other Slayer had faced the things she had and lived as long? She was surpassing her predecessors, outstripping them in the number of demons she’d killed and the number of apocalypses she had averted.

And she wasn’t even twenty yet.

Plus, it wasn’t like they’d given her a handbook to live by. She’d made up her own rules and her own methods.

She’d rewritten the book.

“Nope.” She replied after a few moments thought. “You never could control me…no one could.”

“No one but Spike.” Giles answered in a distant voice that told Buffy he’d responded without thinking.

She paused again and let the words sink in. “Guess you’re right there.”

He smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Least I can do is keep you strong.”

Buffy smiled and watched him as he walked over to the breakfast buffet that was spread along the length of the wall and began loading up a plate for her.

She’d be here soon.

She couldn’t wait to see her again.


Willow dropped her bags the second she was assailed by Buffy, her friend wrapping her in a tight hug and only releasing her so she could bring Tara into it too. She smiled against Buffy’s hair as she squeezed the life out of her and her girlfriend, showing her how much she’d missed them.

Drawing back, Buffy gave them her best smile and let them see how much she’d progressed since they’d last seen each other.

Willow smiled again. “You look a lot better. You had me so worried about you, and then Giles calls to tell me you’re coming to England and that Spike is back.”

Buffy’s smile faltered on hearing his name mentioned.

“Thanks.” She mumbled and then forced herself to perk up again. “There’s so much to talk about…I’m sure you’ve got tonnes to tell me about your adventures in England and I can tell you all about Cerberus. Spike…well…he’s a different matter.”

Willow could see from her look that Spike was indeed a different matter. The regular reports she had asked Giles for had indicated that there had been a small improvement since Buffy’s arrival but not enough to bring any real hope of getting him back to normal. She stepped forward and hugged Buffy tightly.

“I’m sure he’ll get better.” She said as positively as she could and then smiled when she felt Buffy nod.

“You can see him…” Buffy caught Giles’ look that said they had other matters to attend to first. “I mean, after the spell making and the tea drinking.”

Willow giggled and was surprised when Buffy giggled a little too. She looped her arm through Buffy’s, and took hold of Tara’s hand. “Let’s get the spell done already so we can go see Spike.”


Buffy made idle chatter with Tara while they were watching Willow put together the ingredients of the spell that was going to reveal any hidden presences to them when she went out on patrol with Giles. She watched as Willow telekinetically commanded the small phials of liquids and packets of herbs and things that Buffy didn’t want to identify. They all seemed to dance around the table, taking their turn to empty into the small pot that was bubbling away merrily over the heat of a flame.

Tara filled her in about everything that her and Willow had been doing with the Coven, and Buffy tried to follow it as best she could. As far as she could tell there was a lot of getting in touch with the earth and a lot of spell making. Tara explained that it was all about sympathetic magic, about knowing that everything you do has an affect somewhere else in the world and that everything has its place.

Buffy was just glad to hear that Willow was settling in with her new found powers and was learning to find the balance between magic and everything else. She’d seen her friend turn evil, and had been told about her friend turning good, all she wanted was her friend to be Willow, to be the girl she’d gone through high school with.

She knew that wasn’t possible.

Magic played an important part in Willow’s life now and she had to accept that like her friend had accepted that she had changed, that she had become attached to a vampire.

A soulless one at that.

She zoned out of the conversation around her as she thought about him, her feelings instantly reaching out and wanting to latch onto his so she could sense how he was feeling. He was quiet today; his emotions hadn’t changed since she’d first checked on them when she’d woken up. It probably wasn’t as good a sign as she was wishing it were. It probably just meant that he was gone again, disappeared into his own little world.

“Done.” Willow announced and then added with a shrug. “Well, it has to brew for six hours, but my part is done.”

“Cool.” Buffy said as she walked over to her friend and then peered over her shoulder at the contents of the pot. “Eww.”

Willow looked down at the brown sludge that was bubbling away, making little ‘gloop’ noises and slaps. She offered an apologetic look to Buffy and Giles while secretly being glad that she didn’t have to swallow down the potion.

“Six hours? In six hours it’s going to be even worse…can’t we just take it now?” Buffy raised her brows into a hopeful look.

“Only if you want to die…it’s kinda toxic at the moment.”

Buffy arched a brow at the brown goo. She wasn’t convinced that it was going to get any less toxic by the end of six hours brewing time so she decided that they would give it seven hours at the very least—just to be sure.


Willow looked around her, holding Tara’s hand tightly as they followed Buffy down through the maze of weaving corridors. As they entered the darker, dingier part of the basement where the cells were situated she could see what had her friend so upset. There had been lingering signs of upset in Buffy’s eyes the whole time she’d spoken about Spike and Willow knew now that the conditions he was being kept in was a contributory factor to how her best friend was feeling.

“It’s just down here.” Buffy pointed the way along the long damp corridor that led to Spike’s cell. She hated having to come down here, hated having to see the place where they were holding the man who used to share her comfortable room. As soon as Spike showed the vaguest sign of recovery, she was going to get him out of the cell and back to the place where he belonged—her world.

Buffy waited for the door to open, not bothering to talk to the little man on the other side as he scraped the key in the metal lock and swung the door open for her. She just glanced at him and then walked straight to Spike’s cell door and waited for him to open that one too.

Tara swallowed noisily and held Willow’s hand a little tighter as she watched the door open, revealing a wall of black on the other side. She took a deep breath as they all walked forward, the little man moving away from the door and flicking a switch on the wall.

Willow stood still, barely inside the doorway, she could feel conflict, incredible conflict and it felt as though it was coming directly from the earth. It made her feel as though something was fluctuating around her, like two forces of magic shifting and grating against each other. She watched with distant eyes as Buffy moved straight forward, kneeling as she reached Spike and stroking his cheek softly.

“He isn’t here right now…he does this…comes and goes. He’s usually better at night. During the day he sleeps, well, if you can call it sleeping. He won’t tell me where he goes. Sometimes I think he really sees me. Most of the time it just feels as though he’s looking straight through you, but sometimes there’s a hint of recognition and it’s like he’s really seeing me…” Buffy trailed off as she turned to see Willow turning pale. “Something wrong?”

“No…nothing. Just the magic, it’s…it feels different here. It’s strong…”

“Strong?” Buffy looked concerned as Tara nodded in agreement with Willow.

“Feels like a trace…s…something powerful.” Tara said in Willow’s direction.

“Yes, like there was something here…” Willow agreed.

Buffy just frowned. “Was? Like how long ago?”

“Hard to tell…days…months…years…” Willow said with an apologetic shrug. She was telling the truth. Without knowing how strong the magic was to start with, it was difficult to estimate how long it had been gone. The echo of it could have been getting weaker and weaker for decades or just days and she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.

Buffy held her gaze for a moment and then turned back to face Spike as he whimpered something incoherent. “Judging by the age of this place…and how scratched the walls are…I’m figuring bad things have been frequent visitors for centuries.”

It seemed enough to convince Willow that Spike wasn’t the source of the black magic as she took another couple of steps into the cell.

Willow just watched Buffy in silence as she checked Spike’s hands and then his feet. She wondered just how bad he got that he needed to be chained the way he was. As Buffy stood up again, she could see the scars and marks littering Spike’s chest and she couldn’t blame Buffy for worrying so much about him.

She raised her brows as Spike muttered something under his breath, his hands moving silently against the air as though he was running them over something.

“He does that a lot.” Buffy said without taking her eyes off him.

“He’s speak…speaking Sumerian.” Tara said quietly and both Willow and Buffy turned to look at her. She smiled nervously. “I’ve…been reading up on it.”

“Can you tell what he’s saying?” Buffy walked straight over to her, stopping just short of where she was standing and searching her eyes for an answer.

“Not really. I’m sorry, it’s a different dialect. It’s similar to Sumerian though. With time we might…” She offered but saw that Buffy was already disappointed. She felt bad for saying anything and glanced at Willow for support, only to find her staring at Spike.

There was something wrong with this picture.

Buffy couldn’t help feeling it as she stood beside the two witches, watching her mate as he muttered to himself and growled. She had seen the fear in Willow’s eyes when she’d mentioned magic, and she knew that Willow had studied Sumerian. Why didn’t she tell her that she recognised the language Spike was speaking?

She’d given Tara the kind of look that said she should have kept quiet.

First, she’d got the impression that Giles was keeping things from her.

Now Willow, too?

She needed some answers, but there was only one person who could give them to her.

Spike.

She needed him back.

Now.

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