Title:In Sickness and In Health
Author: Joyce
Rating: Pg-Pg13ish (Whole Series)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series characters. They belong to 20th Century Fox, and Joss Whedon. Also I am making no profit off this story. Please don’t sue, I’m just a poor college student.
Summary: First of all this is Buffy/Spike!!! This part of the story isn't about the fire demon. I think I only mention it twice. It's about Spike and Buffy growing closer. If you like it I hope you'll let me know! Only one more part to go! Oh, I also mention the CBS TV show, Survivor, including who won, so I guess that is a spoiler of sorts.
Spoilers: Anything up to the Season 4 finals of both Buffy and Angel is fair game.

Buffy waved goodbye to Willow and Tara as they drove away from the mansion. The witches were going to some big Wicca convention in LA. The Slayer turned to go back inside as Tara's jeep turned out of sight.

Giles and Buffy's mother had left for London earlier that morning. Joyce was going on her first over-seas art buying adventure and had asked Giles to accompany her, since he was familiar with the area. The ex-Watcher had leaped at the chance to return home, if only for a few weeks.

Finally, Xander and Anya had loaded up his car and headed south for Mexico.

The Scooby gang had decided to take last minute summer vacations before the new school year began. Everyone was gone.

Everyone except a certain Slayer and vampire, that is. For the next two weeks, Buffy and Spike would be left alone to watch the Hellmouth. Buffy wasn't worried. No one had seen the fire demon since the night Giles' house was burned to the ground.

Buffy looked into the evening sky, and noted that the sun was setting earlier, signaling the end of summer. Time to get ready to patrol. A sudden chill came over her, and she shivered. Wrapping her arms around her body, she quickly slipped inside and headed to her bedroom.

Spike looked up from the television when he heard Buffy come back inside. The vampire frowned when he noticed her flushed face and glazed eyes. She didn't even look at him as she hurried up to her room.

Spike sat back with a huff. The Slayer was a big girl; she could take care of herself. He tried to ignore the sound of her choked coughs coming from her room and turned up the volume. It was none of his concern.

Buffy tried to clear her burning throat as she critically eyed her newly French braided hair. It wasn't her best look, but it would have to do. She looked longingly at her bed before turning on her heel and heading back downstairs. Now was time to do her sacred duty; she could rest later.

Half way down the staircase, Buffy had to stop and tighten her grip on the railing. The world spun for a moment, and she took a deep breath to help clear her vision. Then, holding her head up, she finished her descent.

Almost to the door, Buffy doubled over as dry, painful coughs began to rack her body. Wiping tears from her watery eyes, Buffy started to leave again, only to run in to Spike, who was now blocking the door.

"Move! I have to go patrol," she tried to glare out him.

"You're sick," he told her.

"I'm fine!" she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince.

"Yeah, right. I'm sure you'll chase all the big bad vampires away with your scary cough."

"I'm the Slayer, Spike. I have to go slay. It's my responsibility," she protested.

"Slayer, it's quiet tonight. You haven't heard from that fire demon in over a month now. Besides, it's about to storm and even demons don't like to play in the rain."

"But I..."

"Go to bed, Buffy. Now!"

Sending him her best dirty look, Buffy reluctantly turned and went back up the stairs.

She plopped down on her bed and looked at the window, debating whether or not she should try to climb out. A bolt of lightening flashed through the sky, chased by a loud crash of thunder that made her jump. One night off wouldn't hurt.

Shivering with cold, she went to her dresser and pulled out a pair of her warmest flannel pajamas. After changing, she climbed into bed and burrowed underneath her blankets.

A few moments later Buffy heard a knock at her door before it opened, and Spike came in. She felt the bed dip as he sat down beside her and began pulling the blankets back.

"C'mon, Slayer, its August. It's not that cold."

She turned away from him, curling up on her side and pulling her knees to her chest. Spike frowned again as she began to shiver violently. He placed a hand on her forehead. He could tell it was warm, but being dead or undead, he couldn't tell if she actually had a fever. He left to search for a thermometer.

Buffy felt awful! Her head was pounding, her throat was sore, her ears were ringing, and her whole body hurt. She was also having trouble comprehending what was going on around her.

She watched Spike leave the room, and tears came, unbidden, to her eyes. It wasn't Spike she was seeing anymore. It was Riley, then Parker, then Angel. Why did they always leave her? Her biggest fear wasn't of death, as one might think; it was of being left alone. She was alone right now. It was like a nightmare. And she just couldn't seem to get warm.

A thermometer was stuck under her tongue, and she felt a cool hand on her forehead. Angel? No, Angel wasn't cool anymore; he was warm. She felt his heart beat beneath her hand. No, that was a dream. Angel was gone. He had left her. She felt the tears come again. The cold hand moved down and brushed them away.

"No, you can't leave!" her voice was raspy and sounded far away to her own ears.

"Shh! Don't worry, luv. I won't leave." she felt cool lips on her forehead, and settled down.

Spike. He wouldn't leave her. She was safe, and not alone.

Spike looked down at the thermometer in his hand, and cursed under his breath. 100.6 degrees was much too high. He started to leave the room again when she cried out for him not to leave her. Making up his mind, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom.

Spike deposited his burden on the cool tile floor, and had to fight to unclasp her hands from around his neck. She sat whimpering and shivering as he began to fill the tub with cool water.

"I'm cold." she said pitifully.

He quickly helped her strip, trying not to look. Oh, who was he kidding? He was male and couldn't help one appreciative glance at her flushed body.

With Spike holding onto her elbow she gingerly stepped into the water, only to jerk back with a yelp and sent them both crashing to the ground.

She looked at him accusingly, anger evident in her voice, "It's cold!"

Spike looked at her unsure of what to do next. Then he saw her eyes close as she began shaking again. Bracing himself for the pain he knew would come, he roughly grabbed her up and forced into the cool bath tub.

Surprisingly, the chip in his head had not been set off, even though he knew that he had hurt her a little. There was no pain in his head, but he was surprised at the pain he felt in his heart at the look of betrayal on her face.

"It's so cold, Spike! Why are you trying to hurt me?" she started weeping.

"Here now, Buffy. I'm trying to help you, not hurt you," He patted her back.

"The water is so cold." she said again.

"That's because your skin is so hot, baby."

She finally began to relax as he massaged her shoulders. He was glad to see that she seemed to be more aware of what was going on.

"Buffy? I'm going downstairs for a moment, ok?" he tried to keep his voice gentle.

"Why? Why does everyone always have to leave me?" she tried hard to keep back the tears.

"Buffy!" he said sternly to get her attention.

Slowly, she raised her eyes to his.

"I'm going downstairs to get you a towel from the dryer, a glass of water, and some medicine. I'll be right back, ok? I'm not going to leave you, I promise." he searched her eyes for some sign that she understood him, sighing in relief when she nodded.

Buffy kept her head down as he left the bathroom. She felt like a fool! What was wrong with her? The fever had made her delirious, she realized. The cold bath must have brought it down. She tried to stand up, she didn't want Spike to see her naked again, but the world started spinning, and she sloshed back down into the now lukewarm water.

The tears that filled her eyes, this time, were those of frustration. An irrational fear of being stuck in that tub alone filled her. She knew that Spike would be back in just a moment, but right now she was alone. And she didn't feel good.

Spike returned to find her sobbing, holding her head in her hands.

"I don't want to be alone." she kept murmuring over and over.

"Ok, time to get out." he told her.

Her tears stopped, and she flushed in embarrassment as she shook her head.

"Buffy, don't make me haul you out of there, because you know I will!" he said warningly.

"I can't get out." she said through clenched teeth.

"Oh."

Spike put his hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet. Buffy kept her head down so that she wouldn't have to look at him.

Sensing her discomfort, he quickly wrapped the large terry cloth towel around her, and lifted her in his arms.

Buffy was reminded of the times her father would bathe her when she was a little girl. He would always wrap her in a warm towel straight from the dryer. She snuggled against Spike's chest, and was asleep in seconds.

Spike smiled down at the sleeping Slayer in his arms, and gently laid her down on the bed. She woke up long enough to help him put a clean pair of pajamas on her, and take two big green pills.

She began to cry again when she saw him start to leave.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"You promised that you wouldn't leave." she pouted.

He rolled his eyes at her childish behavior but striped down to his boxers and climbed into bed beside her. Afraid that he might try to leave once she fell asleep, she grabbed hold of his arm, very tightly, and curled one of her legs around his. Satisfied that he couldn't leave without waking her up, she drifted off into a deep, medicine-induced sleep.

Spike looked down at the girl that had wrapped herself around, not only his body, but his heart. Yes, he definitely was love's bitch. In love with his mortal enemy, William the Bloody. Unbelievable!

When Spike awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that Buffy hadn't moved and inch all night. The next thing he noticed was how hot the face pressed against his chest was. Reaching over to the nightstand table, he grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in her mouth.

103.2 degrees. This was not good! He glanced toward the window and was relieved to see cloudy, rainy, skies. He would have to take her to the hospital, and didn't want to worry about avoiding the sun.

Buffy's fever was too high. He knew that anything over 101 degrees in an adult could cause seizures. How did he know this? He watched ER.

Realizing that he had no car, Spike decided to call an ambulance.

Buffy awoke in the middle of his conversation with the operator.

"No! They'll make you stay away from me." she weakly protested.

The operator asked Spike what his relationship to the patient was.

Looking into her pleading eyes, Spike made a quick decision.

"She's my wife." he told the woman on the phone.

Buffy blinked up at him for a moment, then gave him a small smile before she dropped her head back on the pillow and resigned herself to the fact she was going to the hospital.

Buffy was admitted to the hospital and treated for a high fever, and mild dehydration.

"It's the flu. Not much you can do, but let it run its course," the doctor had told them.

Spike thanked the doctor as she left the room. He then went and sat down on the chair next to Buffy's bed. The Slayer was glancing nervously around the room with haunted eyes.

"Aren't you feeling better, kitten?" he asked her.

"I hate hospitals! When can we go home?" she pouted.

"The doctor said that if you keep drinking fluids, and your fever stays down, you can leave in a couple of hours."

There was a few moments of silence before Buffy picked up a juice drink and began gulping it down. Spike chuckled at her renewed enthusiasm in her drink.

"Why do you hate hospitals so much?" he asked her.

"When I was eight years old my cousin, and best friend, Celia, died. She died in her hospital room and I was the only one with her when it happened," she looked down at her hands.

"So, you're afraid to die?" he ventured.

"No!" her head snapped up. "I'm really not. Maybe I used to be, but sometimes, when I look at you, or Angel, I'm thankful that one day I will die. I'm not doomed to endure the evil of this world for an eternity. When death comes, it will be a welcome release. I just don't want to be alone when it happens. If I had decided not to go visit Celia that day she would have died alone! What if I'm not that lucky?"

"Buffy, there are so many people that love you, and are with you all the time, if only in your heart. You are never alone. That's what makes you the best Slayer there's every been. You'll never be alone. People love you, and can't stay away from you. I can't stay away from you," he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

"I won't stay away from you, Buffy."

"Spike?"

"I love you, Buffy. And I promise I won't leave."

"I love you, Spike." Tears streamed down her face as their lips met to seal their vows of love.

Two Weeks Later

Buffy and Spike are curled up together on the couch watching the last episode of "Survivor", when the front door bangs open and in walks Xander and Anya, followed by Willow and Tara.

"Hi honey! We're home!" Xander calls out, then abruptly stops, causing the girls that were behind him to fall in a domino effect.

His face reflects absolute horror at what he sees in the living room. Buffy and Spike immediately jump up and apart guilty. Xander sends them looks of absolute disgust.

"Rich won?! What the hell are those people thinking? It should have been Kelly!" he walks over and shuts off the TV.

"So, what have you guys been up to?" he asks casually.

*********

All six of them sat around the living room eating pizza. Xander, Anya, Willow, and Tara took turns telling Buffy and Spike about their adventures. Everything was going really well. Buffy sighed in contentment from her place at Spike's side. Things were definitely looking up.

And then, the phone rang.

"Buffy? It's for you!" Anya called.

"Hello?"

"Buffy Summers?"

"Yes."

"I'm Lieutenant Sanders with the LAPD. I'm afraid there's been an accident. We have your mother, Joyce Summers here at the County General Hospital. The airplane she was on was set on fire before the passengers could unload."

End Part 5