 |
 |
 |
| Regarding Birthdays |
 |
| She'd paced for a bit, then tried to sit in the hall outside of the exam room. She'd just stood up to resume her pacing when one of the soldiers finally approached her. "Med team tells me they took a look at the chip. You were right; it's degraded. Leave it as it is much longer, it'll be fatal to him." Buffy swallowed as she took this news in. "OK. So, how long t --" "Now." She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Right, of course. Um, what do we do next?" "Agent Finn said it was your call, ma'am." "My -- what was my call?" "All decisions regarding Hostile 17 are to be left in your hands. This chip...we can either repair it...or remove it." Buffy blinked at him stupidly for a moment, unprepared for this new responsibility with which she was being confronted. She stalled for only a moment though, studying the tops of her shoes, before taking a deep breath. "Take it out." Later on, she would tell it to Giles and the others as though it was a rationalized, reasoned, well-ruminated-on decision. In fact, it was her gut that responded, and she didn't really question it. She knew it was the right thing, but only came up with the reasons why after the fact. "Yes, ma'am." She regarded the soldier again, confidently, "Will he be conscious while you're doing it?" "No. He's pretty out of it as it is, and they'll shoot him up with some tranquilizers before we go in." ~ / ~ Several hours later, she sat uncomfortably on a stool beside the inert vampire. The medical types had told her that he should be coming around any time, but so far, he hadn't stirred. It made her think of the few times she'd seen him asleep, and how it had come as such a surprise to see him appearing truly dead. It was very disconcerting, and was one of the many reasons that she had usually fled as quickly as possible after their trysts, back then. She sighed, recalling the excess of turmoil, not just within herself, but that he'd been experiencing, too. She'd been much too preoccupied with herself to notice or, more honestly, to let herself notice his situation. Well, newer, more conscientious Buffy, reporting for duty. Or, at least, she hoped so. This present apocalypse had rather derailed some of her best resolutions regarding Dawn. But...there were only just so many hours in the day. Once The First was defeated.... She sighed again, drew her knees up onto the top rung of the stool, propped her elbows on her knees and rested her chin on her hands, staring at this being who had, so improbably, become such a significant feature in her life. Several more minutes ticked by. She shifted position again. Tick. Tick. Tick. "Wake up already, Spike." She didn't bother to hide the impatience in her voice. Nothing. Next she tried an authoritative tone. "I think you're just being stubborn, now. They said you should have woken up by now. What, you just want the satisfaction of making me wait around for you?" More nothing. Wheedling came next. "Oh, Spi-ike, there's an order of hot wings with your name on it if you wake up." An abundance of nothing. She sighed a third time. It had been a really long night and she was exhausted. Fine, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. She scooted the stool closer to the table, folded her arms on the near side of Spike's sheet-covered chest, and put her head down. The aforementioned nothingness took her almost immediately. ~ / ~ She thought at first, as she woke, that she must have been dreaming. Then she realized that the voice she heard wasn't inside her head, it was under it, or above it, or, at the very least, somewhere outside of it. She lifted her head, through the protestations of her stiff neck and back muscles, and pushed herself upright. "Shleble dot poker gameshlef...." "Spike, wake up." "Gotta go see the spaflempl..ar...." She shook his shoulder gently, and then a bit harder. At last, his eyelids fluttered open, and he squinted against what light there was in the room, attempting to focus on her leaning over him. "Shlayer...eh...feelsh like cotton in my moufff." "They knocked you out pretty good. But you're better now." "Yeh, better." His eyes drifted shut again as he tried to grasp where he was and what was going on. "Chip misfiring, yeah?" "Yeah, they said it was never meant to last so long." She paused a moment, not certain if he was still with her or not. "All fixed now?" |
|
|
|
| This story nominated at: |
| Rating: PG Award Winner: Setting/Spoilers: Post-Killer In Me (BtVS 7.13) through Chosen (7.22) Summary: Spike has a birthday?? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |