Chapter Eight

The nurse and the doctor were called, and they took out the tube of his mouth, since he was now able to breathe on his own. Joyce and Dawn went out to call the Scooby Gang, because they had all left during the night. Buffy refused to leave Spike's side, and he wouldn't let her go, so she stayed through it all. Finally, when the nurse had fed him tablets against the pain and the doctor was done examining him, they left and Buffy got to be alone with him again.

"You okay?" she asked him, caressing the side of his face lovingly.

He nodded, still not feeling up to talking.

"Do you want some water?" He nodded again and she nursed him some from the glass that was besides his bed. When she had put it back, she told him, "You know, I thought I'd lost you for sure just an hour ago. I'm so sorry for what happened…"

"Not – your – fault," Spike said in a hoarse voice.

"Shh, don't talk," she said and put her finger on his mouth. "Shh…" She kissed him, as softly as she could so that she would not hurt him.

All of the Gang, including Xander, came back to the hospital during the Sunday. Buffy didn't leave once, surviving only on food her mother brought. Dawn and Joyce stayed at the hospital most of the day too, although they left earlier than Buffy.

Willow and Tara came first, at around noon. The two Wiccas had brought flowers and a teddy bear, and both wore guilty expressions on their faces.

"It's a-all our fault," Willow said. "If we hadn't done that – that curse to kill those demons, you wouldn't be here."

"Nonsense," said Spike who felt good enough to talk a little by now. "If you hadn't done that bloody spell –" he coughed a little "– we'd all be dead by now. I'm alive – be happy."

"Yeah," said Buffy, noticing that Spike was having trouble talking, took over for him. "If you guys hadn't killed those demons, we would still be there, trying to get out. If we'd still be alive, that is."

After a little more convincing, the young Wiccas believed that they weren't to blame – at least not totally, Willow thought.

Giles came next, and then, less than half an hour later, Xander and Anya came.

"I'm sorry I ever sent you out on that trip," Giles said.

"Will everybody please stop with the bloody sorrys? We're all alive, aren't we? And no one entered the portal!" He began coughing hard again, the punctured lung troubling him. Buffy kept an arm around his back, holding him as he coughed blood.

"Spike, careful," she said with a pained expression as he sat back and grasped for air. "It's okay, shh," she mumbled, "Breathe… 'S okay…"

She half expected some smart comment, but got none. Instead, he just leaned on her. She sat cuddled up right next to him on the bed, one arm around his back, his head on the side of her chest.

A nurse came into the room; she'd heard Spike's coughing.

"I will have to ask you all to please leave," she said. "You are upsetting the patient, you will have to come back later."

The others didn't protest; they knew there were too many people in the room, and they left, promising Spike that they'd come back later.

"You too, miss," the nurse said to Buffy.

"No," Spike breathed silently. "Let her stay."

The nurse agreed, "All right, since it's only the one. Just keep it down and don't upset him." Buffy nodded and the nurse left the room.

Buffy snuggled up tighter to Spike, setting both herself and Spike in a decent position.

"You comfortable?" she asked.

He nodded, his eyelids closed. She held her arms around him, her left one behind his back, her right one in front. He had his left hand on her hip, and his right one was still clutching his broken ribs.

"Sleep," she whispered, and he did.

His punctured lung was the one thing that kept annoying Spike through his time at the hospital. He stayed there for a whole nine days. To begin with, he didn't care; he was so tired and slept so much it didn't matter where he was. But the last couple of days, he was longing to get out of bed.

"You know how bloody boring it is to be in bed all day long?" Spike asked her in an aggravated tone, then seriously regretting it, as he started coughing yet again.

"Spike, calm down," she said, sitting up on his bed. Her backpack lay on the floor; she'd just come from school. She stroke his hair.

"You're getting out of here as soon as my mom comes to sign your release papers, so you'll be up and around soon enough."

Buffy got down again and took out the little bag they had brought to the hospital for him. In it, she put down all of his personal belongings, like his toothbrush and slippers, and the teddy bear he had received from Willow and Tara.

"Look," she said when she was done, "Now you're even all packed." She gave him a quick kiss. "So what are you going to do when we get home?"

"Whatever, as long as it doesn't involve a bloody bed," Spike replied grumpily.

"Really?" Buffy said sweetly. "No bed? That's too bad…"

Realization dawned on Spike as he realized what she was talking about. "Okay," he said, "That kind of activity involving a bed is fine."

She giggled.

Another week later, they were all back in their old routine. The memory of the night of the Carishou seemed like a distant, unpleasant dream, as did Spike's hospitalization.

Walking around school with Willow, Buffy felt like nothing had ever happened.

"Look, now it's time for the Prom," Willow said and pointed at the placard that some other juniors were putting up on the wall. The dance was only two weeks away. "They've been putting up those signs all over school for weeks now," Willow added.

"You and Tara going to this one too?" Buffy asked, a slight smile on her face although the things she was thinking of weren't worth smiling at. Spike waking her up, saying Willow was in the hospital, driving to the hospital in complete silence, and seeing her friend all wrapped up in casts, in the hospital bed. That was what had happened after the last conversation they had had of a dance.

"I think so," the redhead replied. "We had so much fun at the last one, so… Are you going?"

"I don't know," Buffy admitted. "I'd like to, but I'm not sure Spike wants to."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Oh I don't know."

"You could always ask him," Willow said, smiling.

"We'll see, Will, we'll see."

She got a surprise a couple of days later when she opened her locker and found a card saying, "Will you dance with me? Spike" on.

Quickly, she found Spike outside his locker in the other corridor, and said, smiling, "Yes, I will dance with you."

He grinned, "Goody." He swept her into a quick kiss, before they both had to leave for class. Buffy was in a good mood the rest of that day.

Buffy, Willow, Tara and Anya all went out to by dresses that weekend, one week before the Prom would take place. Willow and Tara had promised that they wouldn't show each other their dresses, because they wanted to surprise. So, Tara started trying dresses while Willow walked off in the store, not getting to come back until Buffy or Anya got her.

Tara ended up choosing a simple, blue dress, which fit snuggly around her upper body and then swayed out from the hips down.

"Gorgeous," both Buffy and Anya agreed.

Tara paid for the dress. Willow came back with a set of dresses and Tara had to go. Willow tried on several without finding anything good, but then tried on a two-piece in black. It had thin spaghetti-straps, and the bottom was in a stretch material with slits on both sides so she would be able to dance in it.

The Wiccas were both there as Buffy and Anya began trying on dresses. Buffy tried on a dark blue one, but didn't like how it fit around her shoulders, so she decided against it even though she liked the color. She tried on a red one, but it didn't match her at all, so that one was a no-no. After trying on several others, Willow came back from a dress hunt with a dress in the same kind of blue as the first one, and that one fit Buffy perfectly.

Meanwhile, Anya found one dress after another, and they all fitted her slim, tall body and she loved them all. After discussing back and forth with herself she decided on a glittery story with no back, just a string by the neck to hold the upper part up. It was very tight, but fit her well.

"So, what more do we need?" Willow asked when Buffy and Anya had paid for their dresses.

"Shoes, make-up and jewelry," Anya responded. She saw the others stare disbelieving at her. "What, I saw it all in this magazine…"

"I don't have enough money for all that," Willow complained.

"Well, I have make-up and shoes at home," Buffy said, "So I only need jewelry."

"I have some jewelry, and shoes I can use, and I have quite a lot of make-up too."

"I'm guessing you're saying no more shopping," Anya said sadly.

The week passed quickly, and Buffy found herself looking forward enormously to the dance. She had made an appointment to get her hair and nails done; now the only hard thing about Saturday was that Spike wasn't supposed to see her before she was done. But he had promised that he'd go and get himself ready together with his friends and then pick her up for dinner at six.

On Saturday morning she awoke early, little butterflies in her stomach. She ate breakfast as slowly as she could, but she was excited; she'd never gone to a dance with someone she really cared about before. Now she was going with Spike, and she wanted to look and feel her very best.

Tara came by her house at ten thirty to borrow a pair of shoes, because she had none she found fit for the Prom.

At eleven, she had the nail appointment.

"Prom today?" the lady who was working on her nails asked.

"Yeah," Buffy replied, gone away in la-la-land, dreaming of her and Spike dancing the night away.

At three thirty she got her hair done, in a princess-like setting, soft curls swaying down on the sides of her face. When she got home, she put her gown on, and then she applied her make-up; she spent almost forty minutes working to get it perfect. Finally, it was five thirty, and Buffy was finished. She went down to the kitchen where Joyce and Dawn were sitting. They gasped as she entered.

"Wow, sis, you look – well, beautiful," Dawn admitted. The sisters grinned at each other.

"You look gorgeous honey," her mother stood up and hugged her daughter. Joyce wiped away tears. "Look, you're making me cry… My little baby is all grown up."

Buffy just smiled. She knew that no matter what happened, she would always be her mother's little baby. Buffy sat down with her family and took a little water, careful not to spill or mess up her make-up.

Finally, the doorbell rang.

"Since when does Spike ring the doorbell?" Dawn wondered. "Doesn't he have a key?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied, "But he wanted to do it all right, so he's ringing the doorbell."

Dawn nodded, although she didn't get it. He lived there, why not just open the door?

Outside, Spike was waiting, flowers in his hands. He felt oddly nervous.

As the door opened and revealed Buffy, Spike could do nothing but gasp. She looked absolutely stunning. A blue, long, tight fitting dress clad her body, her hair was up in some advanced way with golden locks falling around her pretty face. She wore some make-up, not too much though.

"You – You look beautiful," he breathed. She hid a smile behind her hand. "Here, these are for you." He gave her the flowers.

"Thank you, Spike," she smiled. He looked amazing too. He was dressed in black, almost all the way. His tie was a blue that matched perfectly to her dress. His normally slicked hair was tussled up in little spikes instead – how fitting, Buffy thought with a giggle.

"Something funny, love?" he asked. He had walked up to her, and was now standing close to her, his face only inches from hers.

"No. Just – you look great."

"Why thank you, my lady," Spike smiled.

Joyce and Dawn came out, seemingly having decided that the couple had had enough private time.

"William," Buffy's mother burst out, "You look wonderful!"

"Thank you, Joyce."

"Wow, you sure are dressed up," Dawn said, looking at her sister and fake-brother. "You look pretty together."

"Thanks, Dawnie."

"Can I just please take a picture?" Joyce asked, picking up the camera from the dinner table.

It wasn't one picture, once Joyce had started, though. It was a film. Buffy guessed that her mother had taken at least thirty pictures of them, which she didn't mind, but in the end, she felt like getting away from home and get on with the night. Spike had borrowed Joyce's car, and after a long 'good bye' and lots of 'have fun's, they left.

"Whoa, I thought we'd never get out of there," Buffy smiled as she seated herself in the car.

"Well, now we're out, and onto one heck of a night," Spike responded and gave her a quick kiss before turning on the car.

The dinner had been wonderful, Buffy thought later on, as they were headed to the Rose Mansion, where the dance was going to take place. During dinner, the two had talked like they hadn't in a long time. They had talked about everything; his past, her past, the future, Slaying, hopes and dreams.

"When I grew up, I always wanted to be a Watcher, like my great grandfather," Spike had told her. "He was my idol. My own parents were just fighting all the time, and it felt like he was the only one I could really trust."

"When – When did he die?" she'd asked softly.

"When I was seven, just after my parents divorced. I hated it all; I hated my life and my parents, and to see my only life line die then… It was bloody hard. My mum tried to help me, but I didn't want her help. I spent more time in my room that year than I have the rest of my life put together." He's smiled a little, although Buffy had known that talking about his great grandfather wasn't easy.

They had gone on to talk about lighter things, and gotten into her being the Slayer.

"I only found out a year and a half ago," she'd told him. "It was kinda scary, all of a sudden all of these people expected me to do all this stuff, and I didn't know how to. It was hard but – well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I guess."

"You know," he'd told her, "You are the strongest person I have ever met. You are just – incredible. And beautiful, I might add."

She'd smiled. She seemed to do that a lot around him. "Thanks," she'd said.

They arrived at the Rose Mansion at eight thirty; half an hour after the Prom had begun. It was big, huge, with four floors, two dance floors, one room with food and goodies and the top floor, which was used to take professional photos. Buffy and Spike took those first, to have them done with. Then they looked for their friends.

The couple found the other Scoobies by the food, with Xander putting all sorts of candy on a plate like he'd never seen food before.

"Go easy on the plates, mate," Spike said, announcing their presence to the others.

"Buffy! Spike!" Willow squealed and ran over to them and gave Buffy a hug. "I was just wondering where you were."

Tara, Anya and Xander – with his plate of food – followed Willow over to the newly arrived.

"Wow," Xander said, "You look absolutely amazing, Buff."

"Thank you," Buffy blushed. Besides her, Anya looked angry.

"And me?" she asked.

"Oh An, you're the prettiest, most beautiful girl in here, but can't I tell anyone else they look good?"

Anya argued a little, but Xander won, saying that he loved her. For a thousand-year-old ex vengeance demon, she sure has bad self-esteem, Buffy thought.

The group went down to the bottom floor, where one of the dance floors was. It was well crowded, but the group soon found space and started dancing to the rhythm. A slow song followed, and the couples put their hands around each other, heads close and slowed down their pace. Buffy leaned her head on Spike's shoulder, smiling contently. She was in heaven.

"You dance well," she whispered to him.

"I have lots of hidden talents, pet," he replied with a little grin.

"I'm sure you do," she smiled. She met his lips, his sweet, warm lips, and kissed him.

"I love you," he told her.

The night had continued just as great as it had started. The gang mixed dancing with nibbling on food, talking, and of course, making out with their partners. Anya and Xander disappeared more than once during the night, and Buffy didn't want to imagine what they were doing. She also saw Tara and Anya go off, holding hands and looking very lovingly at each other. She smiled; she was surrounded by love from every angle of her life.

They had gotten home at two, although the dance had ended at twelve. The group had gone out to a café and they sat there, the girls in their big gowns, talking and giggling, while the two boys had been entertaining themselves by playing pool, Spike constantly beating Xander.

The house was quiet as they entered it. Joyce and Dawn were long gone off to sleep, Buffy guessed with a smile.

"Shh," she said, holding a finger to her mouth as Spike made noise while taking off his shoes.

"Sorry," he whispered with a grin.

He looked so cute, and he was looking at her with such a loving gaze. She took him by the hand. "C'mon."

She led him up the stairs, and into her room. Quietly she closed the door behind her, her hand trembling with nervousness.

"Buffy? Love? What are you doing?" Spike asked her, confused but with a slight hope in his voice.

"Help me unzip this dress," Buffy said in a low voice. When he didn't at once, she turned around and looked at him with the sweetest look she could produce. "Please?"

He gulped and did what she asked. She let the dress fall to the floor and stood now in only her underwear, turned away from him. Slowly she turned around to face him.

"Love me," she whispered in a hoarse voice. She reached up and kissed him, and he kissed her back, but then he pulled back.

"Buffy, are you sure of this? Don't do anything you'll regret tomorrow."

He sounded like her mother, the thought.

"I want you," Buffy whispered. "Please, love me…"

It was all that Spike needed. He lifted her up and kissed her passionately, then gently laid her down on her bed. He bent down and kissed her more, mumbling words of love to her. She groaned of pleasure and let herself go, giving herself completely to him.

It had been a ride. A wonderful ride, filled of highs but basically no lows. He had lifted her higher than she'd thought possible. Now she lay gazing at her lover's sleeping face, wondering what he was dreaming, because he had such a content smile on his lips. She hoped he was dreaming of her.

She never regretted anything she had done that night. It was pure perfection. He only wish was that her little sister would go away and leave the two alone. She had heard Dawn talk on the phone with her friends, saying, "Yeah, Buffy and Spike, they're you know… together – I know, it's gross to see – They're like making out in the kitchen and all that – I know! I totally agree with you – Yeah, I mean, what are big sisters good for anyway?"

Buffy didn't want to think of how much her mother had heard and knew of her and Spike's night together, if her sister could guess as much as she had.

"Oh come on, pet," Spike said a week after Prom, "If your mum would've had a problem with it, she's have said so by now, wouldn't she?"

"I guess…" Buffy had replied.

Spike had been wonderful. There had been no change in his behavior towards her whatsoever; if anything, he was even more loving. He wasn't like the guys she had read about in magazines, the ones who left when they had had sex once. Buffy had been afraid of that, although, she thought, Spike couldn't really leave at the moment, now could he? If he tried to get away, she'd hunt him down and – hurt him. She smiled at the thought of Spike running from her. She knew deep down that he would never do it.

"Buff? Buffy?" A hand was waved in front of her, waking her up. Xander stood in front of her. "What are you doing in fantasy-land, Buff? Having any pleasant dreams?"

She realized the class they had been in was over, which was why Xander stood in front of her with his bag packed up and ready to go. She still had pens and notebooks out on the desk.

"I'm just thinking," Buffy said, still not all there. She got up though, and they walked out of the classroom.

"Yeah, I noticed."

It was less than a week and a half till graduation now, and all over school, new posters were set up, screaming at them where and when. Buffy thought of them as kind of her death notice. After graduation, it would be a week, and then Spike would leave. His year would be over. Buff felt like crying.

Yearbooks were distributed the next day, and Buffy quickly looked through it. In the index in the back, she looked up, 'Walthrop, William' and when she saw that he was in no less than seven pictures, and had his own half page shared with another exchange student, she was jumping with happiness. She had hoped it would contain lots of pictures of him. Not that she hadn't taken plenty herself, it was just that she was pretty good at loosing loose pictures, while a book like the yearbook was a little harder to misplace.

"You're in three pictures," Willow told her when they met up at break, "Xander is in two, me and Tara are in one each, Spike is in seven and Anya in four."

"How did Anya manage four?" Buffy asked.

"She said she was a member of different clubs that she's not really in," Willow grinned. "You happy about Spike being in there so much?"

"Yeah. He's on two of the academics pages, the exchange student page, three student life and one club page," Buffy told her.

"You memorized them?" Willow asked with a smile.

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," Buffy grinned back.

Graduation Day. It was both sad and happy to sit and watch Spike walk in in the cap and gown on the stadium with the crowd cheering. Happy, because it was an achievement in his life. Sad, because it meant the end of so many things. Around her sat all these people smiling and applauding the graduates, and Buffy chimed in every now and then.

The Saludictorian, the Valedictorian, the Principal and the Student Body President all held short speeches to the class, before their names were called to come up and get the diplomas.

"Annie Swanson! Tai Talera! Madeleine Teddy!" the teachers reading the names said, and one after another, the students accepted their diplomas.

"William Walthrop!" Buffy cheered and applauded and whistled. It was bittersweet, she thought. She saw William looking up at the stands, and as he saw her, he smiled and held up the diploma. She beamed at him.

Buffy sat in her room, door closed. She was crying, and as there was a knock on the door, she didn't answer because she didn't want to talk to anyone.

"Buffy?" Spike asked.

She looked away from him; she didn't want to see him. She heard him walk over the floor and put his hands gently on her shoulders, turning her to face him. He gasped when he saw that she was crying.

"Buffy, why are you crying?" he asked, wiping away her tears with the back of his hand. He sat down on his knees before her. "Talk to me, pet," he said, stroking her cheek.

"I'm crying because it is all over!" Buffy suddenly sobbed, throwing herself in his arms. "You're leaving, and I hate you for it."

She held him closely and he wrapped his arms around her.

"It's another week before I leave, love," he said, stroking her back. "And it doesn't mean it's over. We'll be on different sides of the Atlantic Ocean, but we'll still be alive, and you'll come visit me and I'll come visit you… Don't worry, pet, it will be all right."

She was still clutching to him like she never wanted to let go, and it was true; she didn't want to let go.

"How can you say that? We'll be like a billion miles away from each other, and you'll find someone else there, in England –"

"Buffy, listen to me," Spike said, loosening his grip on her so he could look her in the eyes. "I will never love anyone else like I love you. It will be all right, you hear me? It will all be fine, and I will move here, and we'll get married and have children… It will just take some time, so you've got to have patience. It will be fine."

"A-Are you sure?" Buffy whispered, tears still falling down her cheeks.

"Positively, pet. You won't get rid of me now or ever."

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