Title: A Visit
Author: Eva
Email: lllwickedchildlll@yahoo.com
Summary: Spike visits Buffy while she sleeps. I know, I know; its been done a million times. But what can I say? Enjoy.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Everything on this world belongs to me. I wish. Spike and Buffy belongs to whomever they belong to. But I can still dream, can't I?
Note: This fanfic was written to cheer me up. Maybe there will be a sequel.
Feedback: I want to know what you think.

A Visit


Buffy ran the brush through her honey-gold hair, walking towards her bed with a slight limp in her step. "Dumb vampires," she thought angrily. Well, they weren’t so stupid tonight, actually attacking the infamous slayer with a plan. Another proof that life, or unlife in this case, is full of surprises.

Anyway, the plan became obvious to Buffy when she had been surrounded by fifteen or so vampires, all of them large, tough-looking, and overconfident, believing that many vampires against one small slayer was no contest. They could already imagine bragging to friends about defeating the Chosen One, leaving the fact that they had nearly twenty partners assisting them. Too bad not one of them lived to tell the tale. Buffy had fought a good fight, killing off five of them without a pause, fluidly punching and kicking with her super-strength. It had taken her a little longer to defeat the remaining vampires, most of them getting in good shots. If Spike hadn't helped her, she would probably lying in a glass case, drained of all blood and set up as a display for paying vampires and demons that laughed and cheered as they watched her rot. She reminded herself to thank Spike the next time she saw him.

She set the pink brush onto her vanity table and pulled up the covers, sliding into bed with a sigh of exhaustion. Slaying was pretty tiring. She fell asleep almost immediately after her head hit the pillow, forgetting to lock her window and leaving her vulnerable to creatures outside; creatures that just happened to have an invitation into the Summers home.

Spike sat on the tree just ouside Buffy's room as he has done for so many nights before, watching the slayer sleep, her body bathed in moonlight. It was on cold nights like these that he wished, more than anything, that he could hold her tightly in his arms, her mortal heat and hot breath warming his own cool body, knowing that if he ever had the chance to do so, he would probably never let go; not for the world.

Spike sighed tiredly and reached for a cigarette then found out he smoked his last one a minute ago. He cursed silently and banged his fist on the tree branch, nearly falling over. "Lovely," he thought, "Bloody lovely." He had saved the slayer's life without even a thank you earlier this evening and now he did not have a cigarette to busy his hands. "Is it so hard to thank me, you cruel bitch!" he nearly screamed but he bit down on his tongue. He held his breath when she rolled over to her side, facing him, but she didn't wake up. The anger slid off his face as he looked at her sleeping face, relaxed and calm, no traces of the frowns and worries she wore on her beautiful face when she was awake.

He really needed her then; her warmth, her skin, her tenderness... He took a full minute to decide whether he should go in or stay out. It would be highly dangerous if she woke up to find him in her room but he was willing to face her violent wrath for a few seconds of being near her. Spike was never a patient and rational vampire.

Knowing the window was unlocked, he pulled it up slowly and quietly, praying the Slayer wouldn't wake. She didn't. He crept in, trying not to make a sound and barely succeeded. After deciding it was better to leave the window open just in case he needed to make an urgent escape, he kneeled by Buffy's bed and gazed at her lovingly, his bleached head cocked to a side as usual, a small smile lighting up his sharp face. He leaned forward to be closer to her and drowned himself in her faint vanilla scent, his icy blue eyes caressing her soft features; curling eyelashes, pink luscious lips, soft skin... Before he could stop himself, Spike's hand, as if it had a mind of its own, reached out and stroked her cheek in the gentle way only lovers can achieve. He caressed her face delicately, and suddenly, his heart began to painfully ache. The love he had for the slayer was so impossibly strong... did it really have to come back and bite him in the ass? It was horrible to love a sun that scorns you but to have it hurt so much was unbearable. He dropped his hand and cursed without thinking.

He watched in horror as Buffy stirred and slowly opened her eyes, unable to move. She squinted her eyes as she gazed at the figure by her bed, her sleep-drugged mind keeping her from really noticing who it was.

"Riley?" she whispered. Spike regained his ability to move and dove out the window, landed on his feet, and bolted down the street.

"Wait!" Buffy scrambled out of bed, her mind still hazy and numb from sleep, and she stumbled towards the window, peering out and watched the figure run away with inhuman speed, his black, leather duster flying behind him, white-blond head clearly visible in the moonlight. Buffy gasped when she realized who it was.

"Spike."

End