~ Just As She Asked ~

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All belongs to Joss.
Rating: PG-15…
Summary: Set in alternate season 6 of BtVS. Spike will do whatever Buffy asks.

* * *

He is frightened.

And he doesn’t frighten easily.

Everything is dark except for the stray stream of moonlight ripping through the shadows like a beacon in the blackness of space. Even the ribbon of blood flowing over her neck is the color of death. Beneath his fingertips, her pulse fades, the heat of life marching with determination away from her flesh. She doesn’t move; her arms and legs are pale, limp noodles; and her hair pools around her head, pillowing her skull. Her mouth is slack and open, her eyes wide and glassy.

Sitting back against the cold stone of the tomb, he closes his sight away to the choice she. . . they made.

Deliberately, he listens. . . the night is quiet. Her heart’s stopped beating.

Unbidden tears slip over his cheeks, warm with the heat of her blood.

When he opens his eyes, the world is a perfect, blessed blur.

Scrambling to a shaky stance, he manages to gather her, small and light, into his arms. Her head rests over his unbeating heart. The trembling is all him, so he hurries. Brushing aside a crumbling skeleton, he settles her onto what’s left of the soft cushion of death’s resting place.

With the detachment of an accomplished mortician, he arranges body parts into positions that he hopes will be comfortable and not painful. As he works, his tears dry into sticky tracks and his chest begins to ache, but his fear abates, lost in the doing.

Satisfied, he climbs beside her on the moth eaten surface, slipping his arms around her so that when she wakes, no matter what kind of monster he’s created, he’ll be there. . . just as she asked.

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