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Dawn was spending the night with Willow and Tara. They'd offered, and with Dawn as underfoot as she'd been the last few days, Buffy had been quick to say yes. Dawn had definitely figured something out, whether Spike had told her or not though she was unsure about.

Her mother was coming home in a few days. No one had told her what the doctors had found or didn't. Maybe it was because she hadn't thought to ask. She was sitting on the edge of the toilet, her legs drawn up with the rest of her on the lid.

No blood.

It was Wednesday and there wasn't any blood.

She wanted to check again, kept thinking every little twinge in her stomach was the sign that normalcy was finally beginning to take hold. Every time after she'd looked though, all she could think was that she was just feeling the pregnancy fully take hold.

When she'd felt a little sick that morning she'd first started thinking about how maybe it wasn't that night that had created baby. Maybe it had been a night she had enjoyed, where her and Riley had set up candles and had a nice dinner and she'd taken the time to put on a lace negligee. The doctor had said that it was unusual to have such a quick positive.

She wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse about the whole thing.

She undressed herself from the waist down and stared at the cottony clean insides of her panties. His initials still stood out, bright and bold, on her inner thigh. They were as healed as they were going to get. She traced their outline with her index finger, and realized it was still Wednesday and there still wasn't any blood.

She didn't think she could wait anymore.


He had told himself he'd wait until Wednesday, and he actually thought that he was going to have to. For the past couple of days all he kept saying was how he'd go over real early on Thursday, a couple of hours before sunrise and check on everything. But here it was not even 10:30 Wednesday evening and he didn't have to tell himself that anymore.

Having her call him had never entered the picture, but that was exactly what she'd done. She sounded better than the last time he'd spoken to her, but he didn't pry much. Not at all in fact. Which is why he was still confused over how it had happened.

It didn't really matter though; she'd called and asked him to stop by, if he had the chance, within the hour, because she wanted to be asleep early. So here he was, on her front steps and starting to think that she had just been fucking around with him because nobody was coming to answer the bell.
He tried the knob after he got tired of waiting, which didn't take long at all, and found that it had been left open. The Summers women never seem to learn about the importance of a deadbolt.

Spike stepped over the threshold into the front room, and as soon as he'd closed the door he smelt blood. Buffy's blood. The same as that night in her bedroom, heady and rich as copper and he felt himself getting lightheaded just standing there. His breath quickened and he was trying to get himself under control. He was no help to her like this, faking human breath and thinking more about how it would taste than why he smelled it.

He followed his nose upstairs and saw Buffy sitting on the floor in the bathroom, open wrists smiling up at him. She met his eyes, "You came."

He didn't know what else to say so he replied, "Told you I would." His tongue caught the edge of one of his canines and he felt cool liquid slowly leak into his mouth. He knew his irises were flashing amber and he couldn't stop staring.

"When I first did it, there was just a scratch, and then it welled up in this thick raised line and it was so perfect that I had to touch it, but I just smeared it on my arm. It doesn't hurt much Spike, you don't have to look so scared. Maybe you'd like a taste. Since it's going to waste and all. I'm lucky this time, that you're here."

He didn't know what she was talking about, but her voice had stopped being calm when she'd reached the end. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"Not long, but you're kind of late. I told you I want to be asleep early tonight. Please have some Spike, it's why I asked you to come. I know you miss it, I can see it all over your face." She raised her arm in his general direction and even though instincts told him to step forward, he was able to hold his ground.

"I can't do that, you'll never stop bleeding." That's how vampires did it; their saliva wouldn't let the blood clot. It would flow until there was nothing left.

"Well, Spike, that's the point." She raised her other wrist. "Drink from me. Make me your third slayer. Have a real good day."

He couldn't say the words out loud, but they ran through his head anyway. "This isn't your death wish, Buffy. This can't be it." "I'm calling an ambulance."

"Don't do that, please don't do that. Here, just have a lick." If she got him to do it, he'd have no choice. He'd be hooked and she'd get to die a slayer's death. It wouldn't be suicide if he took care of it for her.

He left the room anyway, and she sat there on the floor watching her blood trickle down her forearm and onto the edge of the bathtub. She wasn't crying, but she did occasionally shout out to him that her offer wasn't going to hold much longer and that she was beginning to get a little dizzy.

He came back eventually with a glass of juice and a dishtowel. "They said they'd be here in a couple of minutes." He was actually growling at her, and when he grabbed her arms, he pulled them up violently and held them straight up in the air. She could feel the blood start snaking down to her elbows and biceps.

"What are you doing?" She tried to get her arms free, but she was too weak with so much blood loss. His grip didn't loosen.

"Trying to get your arms to stop bleeding." He wrapped them in the rag and held it in place. "Drink this."

"I don't want it. Let go of me. You're not supposed to be doing this. You're not supposed to care about me."

"DRINK IT!" He shouted at her, and shoved the cup at her lips. She sputtered on it as he dumped it down her throat. It was orange juice. She hated orange juice. Why could he tell her to drink, but he wouldn't listen to her?

She heard a siren approaching and she was beyond pleading with him at this point to finish the job. Tears were dropping all over her chin and chest, but she couldn't realize that she was crying and he kept slipping in and out of focus. "Just do it. Just do it already."

He wouldn't even look at her anymore, but she felt his hands shaking as they held her. Some men came into the bathroom and put her on a stretcher, bandaging her wrists and checking her vitals. They took her out and put her into the ambulance. Spike followed and climbed in the back with her.

He wasn't touching her anymore and all she kept whispering is "Why didn't you do it, you wasted my blood. You made me drink and you wasted my blood."

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