Love Hurts

"I don't care, Giles," Buffy hissed as she wiped angry tears from her eyes. "You didn't see what they're doing to him. It was even worse than last time."

Giles removed his glasses and focused on cleaning them. He shared her frustration, but he was at a loss at what to say to the furious girl. "I don't know what to tell you, dear. We can't allow our emotions to get the better of us. This entire situation is fraught with dangers, and now, with Jenny's death..." he shrugged helplessly, unable to finish.

"Did Willow find anything when she searched Jenny's hard drive?" Joyce asked in desperation, aching for her distressed daughter.

Giles shook his head dejectedly. "Unfortunately, no, she was unable to find even the original untranslated copy of the curse. There is nothing more we can do but wait and pray that Willow can find it online as we know Jenny did in our time." Turning his compassionate gaze to his slayer, Giles felt his heart go out to the girl. "I'm sorry, Buffy."

Buffy closed her eyes and mentally attempted to reign in her emotions. She knew all the arguments as to why they couldn't just dust Angel. Giles' whole theory about the imbalance created by the Powers bringing Angel back from Hell the first time was what let the First gain its initial foothold into this dimension felt like it was branded into her brain. She hated the position she was now in. Her heart ached for her vampire and she was finding it difficult to hold back on her instinct to just head back to the factory and save him. "I need to kill something."

"Well, unless my memory is completely shot, you can," Cordy grinned happily as she passed the newspaper to her friend.

Buffy quickly scanned the newspaper article, her eyes narrowed and a cold grin settled across her features. "Der Kindestod. Oh, you are so going down, buster."

As the Slayer reached for her jacket, Cordy asked her if she needed any help, but Buffy shook her head. She needed to do this by herself. Her Cousin Celia's memory deserved it and her own craving for vengeance had found a new focal point.

When Buffy returned home two hours later, her rage fully under control and her opponent vanquished, she was unprepared for the newest development. Seated on her living room couch, clutching a basket of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and an Orb of Thessula, sat her best friend, Willow.

"I come bearing gifts of chocolate-y goodness, an orb for soul making, and muchness in the way of begging for forgiveness. I'm so, so, so, sorry, Buffy. But on the up side - I memorized the spell."

~*~*~

Angelus missed the blur of movement that sped around the inside of the factory, his only indication that there was anything amiss was when Drusilla's keening wails of anguish coincided with the plumes of dust that suddenly seemed to billow around him. He opened his eyes wide in shock when minion after minion disintegrated around him. Twenty became ten; ten became two; finally all that were left were himself, his childe, and his grandchilde. Not once had he seen the attacker.

Buffy came to a stop in front of Spike's broken body and faced the two remaining Aurelians. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's so not of the smart to piss off a slayer?" she quipped perkily, her eyes cold and hard.

Angelus forced himself to chuckle, unwilling to let his enemy see how badly her entrance had thrown him. "Nice to see you've grown a backbone, Buff. Remind me to rip that out of you later."

At a nod from her sire, Drusilla stepped forward, her body weaving in mesmerising patterns as she focused her power directly into the Slayer's eyes. "Look into my eyes, dearie. Be in me."

Buffy snorted derisively before lazily throwing a right hook that sent the brunette vampiress flying across the room. "Please! Like you could out-thrall the Master." Waving her hand dismissively, Buffy continued, "I've dusted all I'm gonna dust today, I'm just here to pick up the garbage."

"You came here for Spike?" Angelus blurted out in surprise.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm looking for trash, Angelus, not treasure."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Angelus snarled as Drusilla began screaming in impotent fury, making her ramblings impossible for her sire to understand.

Buffy watched impassively as the spell took hold, knowing that whatever little voices that Drusilla heard had already warned the vampiress of the impending demise of her daddy. Silently the blonde congratulated Willow on her timing.

Newly re-souled Angel sank to his knees as Drusilla wailed nonsensically.

As Angel lifted his distraught gaze to meet Buffy's, he whimpered when her eyes dismissively flickered over him to settle on his weeping childe. His mind raced to recapture his memories. He blanched in horror as the image of Jenny's battered body flashed and throbbed before his mind's eye. ‘Oh God! What have I done?'

Buffy focused on Drusilla, waiting for the hysterical vampiress to face her.

Drusilla turned her hate filled gaze on the waiting Slayer, but before she could form the vengeance seeking words that demanded to be uttered, Buffy spoke.

"The only reason you're not dusty is Spike. The very instant he wants that remedied, you're history, Drusilla. Regardless of his relationship with you, you will behave yourself while you're in my town or Angel won't be the only vamp with a soul." Stalking closer to the slender, shaking, brunette, Buffy continued, "And just to be perfectly clear, you WILL look after your childe. You WILL make sure his needs are met above all others and you DAMN WELL WILL NOT be treating him like one of your dollies. I'll be back, Dru, and I want to see him healing!"

Turning swiftly on her heel, Buffy headed towards the exit. "Move your ass, Angel."

As he watched her and the meek form of his grandsire go Spike's mind went blank. He had absolutely no idea what he had ever done that would garner that sort of respect from a slayer, but he couldn't deny the feeling of warmth she illicited from him. The demon and the man were in total agreement - she was bloody amazing.

~*~*~

"Hey," Buffy greeted quietly. "How are you?" she asked as her eyes critically ran over his form.

"Confused," Spike offered hesitantly from his position in bed. His arms and upper body ached painfully, but from the waist down he was numb. His useless legs mocked him. He couldn't move; his broken arms ensured that he was unable to even move himself into a sitting position and even if he could sit up, those same arms made sure he couldn't hold a book or even turn on the television. He hated her seeing him so weak. He knew she wouldn't take advantage of the situation and dust him like she probably should, but he really didn't want her pity. No, pity was not the emotion he wanted from this slayer; he just wasn't quite ready to put a name to the emotion he did want from her.

Buffy moved to his side and held up a thermos. "I have something for you. Will you let me help you sit up?"

With his cautious nod of agreement Buffy put down the thermos and reached under his arms, sliding him effortlessly into position. "I figure slayer blood will get your arms and other superficial injuries on the mend fairly quickly, then we can concentrate on getting your legs working again," she said as she moved him.

Spike bit back his groan as the change in position jarred his injuries.

Buffy pointed to the side of the bed. "Do you mind?" she asked before gingerly sitting once his permission had been gained. Lifting the thermos and opening it, she cupped the back of his head and held the container of warmed sanguine-y goodness to his lips. She tilted it slowly, allowing the liquid ambrosia to wash over his tongue and down his throat. She smiled softly, delighting in his moans of enjoyment, taking the time to just enjoy being in his presence. It was so easy to slip into the illusion that they were once again together.

She wasn't used to the side of Spike she was seeing. She had seen glimpses of it when she had first been brought back from Heaven in her own time. Quiet Spike seemed out of character to her and Buffy longed for the time when she had the right to bolster his mood; the time when he would be hers.

"So, how long do you think it will take for your arms to heal?" Buffy questioned when Spike had finally finished the contents of the thermos.

Buffy stood with a sigh and made her way over to the door before she answered, facing the door rather than his all seeing eyes. "You know why, Spike, you're just not ready to acknowledge it," she whispered as she opened the door. "You're not beneath me; you never have been."

Spike watched her go as tears silently tracked down his cheeks.

~*~*~

"So, the parts of James and Grace were played by Drusilla and Angel?" Cordy snorted in amusement.

Buffy giggled in response. "Yup, you should have seen Angel's face when he realised Dru had shot him. Total wounded puppy mode."

"How did Dru take it?" Willow asked, concerned. Drusilla in vengeance mode could be a huge problem.

Buffy shrugged dismissively. "Who knows? Psycho ratings so not my forte!"

~*~*~

"Sunshine burns and burns Daddy. Makes him want want want. Now my brave knight has the spark, and she wants him to burn for her too. No! No! No! No! No! No! No more burning, no more spark. Greedy little girls need to learn restraint. I waited too long for Daddy to come back to us; she shouldn't get her cakes and tea too. Blood and bones and tears are what she should have. No, then Daddy will be even more cross, I shall not give them both up, to burn for her while Princess is left in the cold. So cold cold cold. But sparks have to be fed; flame's stroked to grow brighter. I'll remove the kindling, smother the spark, and watch as it hisses and fizzles and dies a cold bleak death. Then my knight shall be my own once more. The Sunshine may have the cakes but without the tea her party will oh so very dry and she will choke on the crumbling sweets."