Her Saving Grace, 14/?, Spike/Fred, R

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Hokay, you guys get a really really REALLY long chapter tonight.

Title: Her Saving Grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Spike/Fred, mentions slight Fred/Wesley
Spoilers: Angel S5
Chapter: Fourteen of ?
Prompt: #34 - Trollop for tamingthemuse
Warnings: Character death (not the permanent variety)
Summary: An accident one night changes Fred's entire world. Shunned by the people who should care the most, she turns to the one person who does care, and finds something beyond friendship.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. Not even my mind these days.

Wordcount: 4381

Previous parts here



Pretty by spikeshunny





Pretty by me; please don't take.

Chapter 14: In Motion

Once everything had truly been moved into the apartment, they'd settled about placing everything. Well, settled probably wasn't the right word, Fred thought. They weren't settled at all: they were constantly moving.

First the bed in the spare room had to be assembled, along with the desk. The dresser she'd found had been moved into the bedroom, and Fred hadn't remembered it being as heavy as it was when they attempted to get it through the doorway. The weight may have had to do with them shifting it each and every single way to get it down the hallway, before Spike had finally told the girls to get out of the way. With a mighty shove the dresser had gone sailing across the wooden floors into the bedroom, and Fred could've sworn she saw little streak marks on the wood.

The little pieces in all the rooms got put away, the chairs and the tables placed exactly where they needed to go, and the sofa was the last piece they put in place. Once it was finally set against the far wall of the living room, the three of them collapsed on it, laying their heads back with heavy sighs.

The ceiling was even beautiful. Better yet, they didn't have to put any furniture on it, which may have heightened the beauty in Fred's eyes. She didn't really know. All she knew was that the ceiling was the only thing she could look at anymore, on account of her head being too heavy to lift from the comfortable sofa cushion. It was a nice thing to stare at, and she didn't think she'd mind looking at it for, oh, maybe a few centuries. She didn't want to rush the getting up part of things.

“We need food,” Buffy said from beside her. Spike merely gave a grunt from her other side. Fred gave them both kudos for using energy to make noise at all. Thoughts seemed too heavy at the moment.

“Anyone want to think of something we could get?” Buffy asked. Silence answered her. “Okay. Pizza it is.”

“No bloody fishies,” Spike managed. “Had enough from your sis, thanks.”

“I hate them,” Fred added, surprising herself with her ability to talk. But she did hate the little things.

“No sardines,” Buffy agreed. “I have no clue where Dawn gets her taste from. Who knows what those monks ate.” Spike snickered. It might've been a snort, though. Or a grunt. It had sounded faintly amused, though, so Fred would go with a snicker.

With a sigh Buffy shifted on the sofa, and a few moments later, Fred heard a small beep from the cell phone as she activated it. Seven more beeps, and Fred could then hear the ringing. “Any cares whatsoever about toppings: this is your last chance.”

“Don't care,” Spike mumbled.

“You can tell 'em to put the whole bloody kitchen sink on it if you want,” Fred replied, and now she knew that the sound Spike had made was a snicker. Her own lips twitched up in response.

Someone on the other line asked for the address, and Buffy gave it, before launching into her order. Fred sort of zoned out around the pepperoni part of the order, and didn't come back until she felt a gentle tug on her left arm. She gave into the small force pulling her that way and slid down the cushion until her head hit a familiar shoulder, one that was shifting slightly as Spike chuckled.

“She needs to go to bed,” Buffy said and, much to Fred's surprise, stood up. Fred stared in amazement. How had she done that?

“Her legs,” Spike replied, and Fred realized she must've said it out loud. “That you did,” Spike said again, and Fred really needed to stop saying her thoughts out loud.

Spike chuckled again, his right arm moving behind her to wrap around her shoulders, keeping her close. Her eyes felt like closing, so she let them, resting for that sweet moment against the guy she knew she was starting to fall in love with.

She wasn't really sure when it had happened. She knew if she really thought about it, she probably still couldn't figure it out. It had just happened, and she found she didn't really mind that it had. In fact, it was nice. Better than nice. Love was just like that.

“I need a boost before that pizza shows up,” she heard Buffy say, before she heard the small ripping of plastic. Then a sweet aroma met her nostrils, one she knew all too well, and her eyes shot open.

Buffy was already on her first Oreo, and Fred was afraid she was heading for her second. “Now just wait a minute,” Fred said, pushing herself off the sofa and hurrying over to get one while they lasted. From behind her, Spike's chuckles were starting to border on full out laughter, but she didn't care: there was chocolate to be had.

“Now I think my brain'll work,” Buffy said. She pulled out three cookies, before she tossed them over to Spike. “Here: you'll need extras to get yours going.”

Spike stuck his tongue out at her, and Fred giggled. “Funny, Summers,” he muttered, giving Fred a look. “What do you need to think about, anyways?”

“The meet and greet with Angel,” Buffy said. “Two days, remember? We don't have a lot of time to plan, and you two need to do something that's going to scream 'Hey, we're still the lovely people we always were, we're good with or without the souls, don't stake us'. And it can't be lengthy; it's got to be a quick in, quick out. No talking.”

“No, talking doesn't work,” Fred said with a sigh. “You're right: whatever we do is going to have to prove the old adage 'actions speak louder than words'. I thought about it when Spike moved the dresser, actually.”

Spike frowned, swallowing down the last of his first Oreo before he spoke. “How's that, luv?”

“No brute strength,” she replied simply. “We have to be really careful with this.”

Spike gave his nod of agreement. “Not gonna be easy at all. We'll manage somehow, though.”

“Neither of you has any idea?” Buffy asked. Both Spike and Fred shook their heads.

She sighed, pulling another cookie from the packaging. “Then you've got two days to do so. I'll scope out the club tomorrow and see if anything there could be an advantage. How, I don't know: that'll be up to you two. I'll try to find sewer access while I'm at it, along with any other escape routes you may want.”

Fred gave a distracted nod to show that she'd heard. Her mind was already whirling with thoughts and possibilities, but each one was like a bad hypothesis: proven wrong again and again.

A knock at the door, and Spike rose, looking just as lost in thought as Fred. Buffy rolled her eyes and headed for the door. “Think about it after the pizza,” Buffy told them. “Right now, we need to eat.”

After the pizza, nothing came to either of them. Buffy left about an hour later, and when Fred almost walked into a wall, Spike called it quits for the night. “You're sleep deprived and tryin' to figure out a problem. We'll start on it tomorrow mornin', but right now, you need to go to bed.”

Twenty minutes later found her lying in the comfortable bed in the spare bedroom, still mulling over it all. No answer was popping, though, so she finally closed her eyes. Within moments she was asleep.

The next morning she was up bright and early. When Spike woke up about an hour later, he found her at the kitchen counter, a mug of untouched blood in front of her, her gaze unfocused, obviously very lost in thought.

“Fred? Pet?”

It took a few minutes for Fred to recognize the voice and come back. By that time, Spike had rewarmed her blood and set it back down in front of her. “We'll figure somethin' out,” Spike promised. “We've still got until tomorrow night.”

“I know, but I can't think of anything, Spike,” Fred said, biting her lip. She felt stupid. There didn't seem to be a good, obvious solution to the problem anywhere in sight.

“Let's try it this way, then,” he said, taking a seat across from her at the counter. “I'm sure you've got yourself a tidy little list of what the factors involved are. Give me the list, and let's go over it.”

Fred took an unnecessary breath in, before nodding. “Okay. It's a dance club. Two floors. One's overlooking the other, and the top floor's probably edging out just to where the dance floor is. There'll be stairs up, and lounging chairs and tables all over the place. The music will be loud, and the bar'll be downstairs.

“Now here's where the problems start. If we go upstairs, we'd have to go down the stairs to get out. That's our only route of escape, unless Buffy gives us something else. Right now, though, let's assume that it's just the stairs up and down. They'll probably be filled with people going from floor to floor, so moving will be difficult. Tomorrow's Friday, and the club will be packed. Moving will be really difficult.”

Spike frowned but nodded to show he was still with her.

“So we can't go upstairs, which really wouldn't have done us much good anyways. We have to stay downstairs. What options are there? Do we get a drink that doesn't have blood in it and smile to say we enjoy it? Do we look at the necks of the patrons and shake our heads to emphasize we wouldn't do that? Do we talk with the patrons and show that they're more than just food?” Her voice rose higher and higher with each ridiculous scenario, her panic level coming back. There was no way to make this work. No way at all.

Strong arms pulled her into her safe haven: his embrace. “We'll get it worked out, I promise,” he told her softly. “There's got to be some way to prove to Angel what we want to prove.”

“I can't think of anything, Spike,” Fred said, before muttering, “We might as well just go to dance for all the good it'll do us.”

She could swear she heard the light bulb turn on. His arms tightened fractionally around her, before she felt him nod, the tip of his chin brushing against the top of her head. “That just might work,” he murmured.

“You're not going to tell me until tomorrow, are you?” Fred asked, pulling back to look at him.

Spike just grinned. “Rest that pretty little head of yours today; I think I've got something that'll work. Do you have your closet sorted out?”

Fred frowned at that. “You mean all my clothes put away? Yeah, everything's pretty much hung. Why?”

“Because I need to look,” Spike said, pulling away from her. He left a kiss on the top of her head, though, before he left, and she watched him hurry down the hall. He seemed confident with the idea, and she knew he wasn't stupid. She just hoped that whatever the plan was, she could manage it.

She turned to her blood and took a sip, glancing around the kitchen. They needed to put the tableware away today. That would be something she could do to take her mind off of this.

“Nuh-uh. No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Spike, no!”

“It's in your closet! Why is it there if you won't wear it?”

“Because it's...it's...”

“It's...it's...what?”

“Not very me.”

“Sure it is. Put it on.”

Fred sighed but closed the door, reaching for the outfit he'd found. She'd bought it one day with Cordelia, who had insisted she wear something flattering. “Every girl needs her little black dress,” she'd told her.

She slid it on, wishing she had a mirror to look into. She glanced down at herself, but the angle wasn't very flattering. “Maybe Willow can do something,” she muttered, before stepping out into the living room. Spike turned at the sound of the door opening and stopped, his eyes widening as he took her in.

The dress was sleeveless, but not spaghetti strapped; this dress wasn't falling off. It didn't cling to her curves, but followed the pattern of whoever had designed it, causing it to trail along Fred's natural curves at a distance. The hem ended almost at her knee: not too low, and not too high.

It still made her nervous, though. “You look wonderful,” Spike told her, which normally would've earned a blush and a smile. Fred gave an uncomfortable shrug and fiddled with the skirt.

“Fred?” he asked, sounding confused.

“I look awful,” she said. “I look like a ho. Why did I let Cordy talk me into this dress? I look like a...like a...”

“Trollop?” Spike offered.

“Yes! Trollop! That fits perfectly,” she said, before gazing down unhappily at herself. “Cordy could wear a dress like this. I don't think I can,” she mumbled.

Soft footsteps were heard, and then she could see his two feet in front of hers. “You listen to me,” Spike said, causing her to look up. “You look beautiful. Should wear something like this more often, and not just for me: for you, too. I want you to be happy when you wear anything. Especially a gorgeous dress like this. You should feel as beautiful as you look, pet. And that means you should be feeling very beautiful.”

Fred slowly began to smile. “Maybe we should go with talking for our plan; you're pretty good at it,” she said, causing him to grin.

“Nah; I don't think I could tell Angel what I just told you with a straight face.” She giggled at that. “Besides, no talkin'. We need to do this on the ground floor, and he doesn't listen anyways.”

“How exactly is this going to help us? I mean, I don't look anything like I normally would,” Fred said. She never would've dared to wear this when she'd been human. “This is not the Fred apparel any of them know.”

“That's the whole point,” Spike said, causing her to frown. “Angel's convinced you are different, and any proof that makes you look like you used to be just makes him even more sure you're pretendin'. What we need to do is set you up as someone very very different on the outside, and show him a little bit of your demon comin' through.”

Fred nodded as she began to understand. “And then we show him that I'm still me even with the demon.”

“Now you're gettin' it,” Spike said with approval. “Go get your shoes, or we're gonna miss our window of opportunity.”

Her shoes were easy, and they quickly headed out, taking a cab to the club. Spike handed Fred a sheet of paper while they rode, and her eyes easily read it in the night. Stairs only entry/exit to 2nd level, main doors in front, emergency exit in back right corner beyond bathroom hallway. Back left leads to dumpster/alley. Both exits in back lead out to the street behind.

“I guess I zoned out more than I thought,” Fred said sheepishly. “I don't remember any of this. I thought,” Fred said sheepishly. “I don't remember any of this. You talked with Buffy...?”

“Yesterday, and I called her, which might be why you don't remember the phone ringin',” he said. “I had a favor to ask her.”

The cab slowed to a halt outside a fairly well lit entrance, and Spike stepped out first, coming around to Fred's door to help her out before she'd even had the chance to reach for the handle. She smiled as she let him help her out, then rewarded him for his chivalry with a lady-like kiss to his cheek. Thunder rolled above them, but even that didn't dim her good mood. They headed inside, Fred's spirits soaring high.

The instant they stepped into the club, though, they started to sink. She could feel the tell-tale pins and needles on the back of her neck, and though the pain wasn't as intense as it had been back in the lab all those days ago, it was starting to grow. Angel was here somewhere.

Spike's hand found hers and held on tight, and she wasn't sure if it was her squeezing his hand or him squeezing hers. He was just as on edge as she was, though he was doing a better job of hiding it.

Another sensation struck her, that pure heartbeat moving through her entire being, and she calmed slightly. Buffy was here too, then. That was good to know.

But if she could feel Buffy, then surely Angel could, too. And he was bound to wonder why she was here. Could Angel actually feel Fred and Spike, too? Was he going to get the leg up on them? Was he...

“You're wound up too tight,” Spike whispered in her ear. “Relax. Don't you trust me?”

“It's Angel I don't trust right now,” she whispered back. “We've come this far, and he could...”

“I know pet. I know.” He paused for a moment, then strode forward through the people, her hand still firmly grasped in his.

She could feel the bass pulsing through her, but it wasn't as bad as before. It was as if her demon knew how to block it out. The sound wasn't killing her ears, but she was on the verge of wincing as some rapper thundered out his words to a harsh bass. She really hoped they'd change the song soon.

As if someone had heard her thoughts, the song came to a merciful end, and a techno dance hit ran through the speakers. Not her usual choice in music, but it was better then the unnerving pulse that had started shaking her to the core. This beat was catchy, and it made her want to move, and then Spike moved them to the dance floor and she didn't want to move anymore.

“I'm not...” she started, but Spike turned around, taking both of her hands in his and giving her a growing smile.

“C'mon; dance for me again,” he said, moving her to the beat. He began to move as well, and she finally allowed herself to start dancing. Her hips were the first to move, swaying ever so to the beat, and her shoulders couldn't help but follow. Spike backed away slightly, his fingers beckoning her to follow him. She felt almost impish as she made tiny steps over to him, moving her arms and hips in time with the song.

She reached him and wrapped her arms around him, feeling almost high on the sensations. The beat of the music surrounding them, the beats of the many heartbeats that pounded to various tempos, her demon coming to the forefront to encourage her to move and dance and live, and the feel of Spike's arms wrapped around her back, sliding oh so slowly down to rest on her hips. Her smile wasn't lingering: it was fully there, never wanting to leave.

It didn't leave even when Spike turned her around so she was facing the front of the club. Her back molded perfectly against his chest, so much so that when he leaned backwards slightly she went with him, her eyes lifting to the second floor where Angel stood. His hands were grasping the railing as he glared down at them. She should've felt horrible. She should've felt her smile disappear, her heart grow heavy at the thought of her friend so disgusted with her.

Instead, she did the opposite. Her smile only grew, and she winked at him. Spike must've caught her move, because she could feel his chuckle starting from deep within his chest. “You are so bad,” he breathed in her ear.

“Yeah, but it felt so good,” she told him, glancing back at him. The distance between them was so little, and his lips were right there, and she gave into the impulse at the same time he did, their lips meeting as their dance slowed to a stop. All she could feel and taste was him now. A trace of blood and the taste that was uniquely Spike hit her senses at full force.

It wasn't a fierce kiss. He wasn't plundering her mouth as if he were a pirate anxious for his treasure. This pirate was luring his treasure to him, slowly and steadily and gently, but gentle didn't mean weak. His gentle was strong and sure and something she could never get enough of.

They parted at a tap on their shoulders. When she turned, Fred found Buffy beside them smiling, glancing up at the second floor where Angel was sure to be glaring still. The Slayer gave a mock grin that was much too bright, before turning back to Fred, her regular grin back in place. “Pepsi?” she asked, holding out the soda to Fred.

So this had been Spike's plan: show her how she was different, yet the same. She was fairly certain the dress and the kiss were different enough for Angel. Spike was a clever one.

A heartbeat that was way too fast suddenly hit her, causing her to almost drop her drink. Spike turned as well, and they frowned as a girl ran to the bar. Her dress was torn, all of her was completely soaked, and she looked terrified. “M-My friend...out back...there was a guy who didn't look right...” she panted to the barkeeper, who nodded and headed for the phone.

“This wasn't part of your plan, was it?” Buffy asked sarcastically, taking the drink from Fred and setting it on a nearby table.

“Not in the slightest,” Spike replied, already moving towards the back door. Fred and Buffy followed behind, with Buffy pulling her ever faithful stake from her back pocket.

The thunder from before had only been the beginning: it was pouring outside now, and Fred was grateful for her added vision. It would've been tough to see otherwise; this storm was going to be a bad one.

A shriek made her turn left, where Buffy was already running towards a vampire who had a young girl pinned against the wall. The thought of I was that girl ran through Fred's mind seconds before her demon and her agreed that it wasn't going to happen again. Not this time.

She ran forward with a yell, surprising herself by catching the vampire with her foot. He stumbled backwards, giving Buffy all the time she needed to slam the stake home. It was only then that Fred realized Spike wasn't fighting, and she let her senses open in order to find him even as she turned to glance around.

Her demon found him first, sending the feeling of Spike through her system before her eyes could register his form in the rain. It seemed there'd been another vampire, and it was him that Spike was locked in combat with. Even as she watched, Spike threw the vampire back, grabbing his own stake from his duster and shoving it through the vampire's heart.

Her nose was distracted then by the scent of something strong and sweet. She turned sharply to the girl against the wall. Her shirt was stained red, and the blood from her neck was being washed away by the rain, only to be replaced with more blood. She looked pale. Too pale.

Fred immediately knelt, feeling the girl's heartbeat go from fairly steady to dangerously sluggish. She'd be okay if they could get help fast. “I think they've already called for help, but see if the barkeeper doesn't have some sort of First Aid kit,” she said to Buffy. The blonde gave a short nod and ran off for the club.

Fred turned her attention to the girl. Her gaze was slightly unfocused, but she seemed to know that Fred was there and not going to hurt her. “You'll be okay,” she told her. “I promise. Help's on the way, okay?”

There was no movement for a moment, and then the girl gave a shaky nod. Both girls blinked and glanced up as the rain stopped briefly, and Fred watched as Spike quickly pulled his duster off of him to wrap around the girl who'd begun to shake. “We should get her inside,” she said, and he nodded.

“Last thing we need is her catchin'...” Spike trailed off, his eyes locked on something to her left, and she turned to see what it was.

Or rather, who it was. Angel stood in the rain not ten feet from her, staring at her in bewilderment. She rose slowly, and his gaze went from the girl against the wall before going back to Fred, his confusion only deepening. There was something else in his eyes, though, and she realized it was hope. “Fred?” he asked softly.

She stepped forward once, twice, and stopped on the third step. He didn't move. Behind her, she could hear Spike bending, no doubt picking up the girl, before rising. He didn't step towards them, however, as if sensing that this wasn't for him to get into. This was between Fred and Angel, but she knew he wouldn't leave her. Maybe it was between the two of them, but Spike wouldn't let her out of his sight.

“Fred?” Angel asked again, and she could hear the hope in his voice now. She raised her eyes to meet his, and she gave a small smile.

“Hi Angel,” she said softly, and she watched his eyes widen, then fill with tears.

“Fred,” he managed, before taking a tentative step towards her. She closed the gap and stepped into his opening embrace, feeling his arms wrap around her. Not as secure as Spike, but it was Angel, her Angel, and she felt her own tears start.

She closed her eyes and wrapped her own arms around him, letting her tears mingle with the rain as they stood in the alley.

~Nebula

Comments

[velvetwhip.livejournal.com]

And Angel finally gets a clue! Hooray!


Gabrielle

[lilithbint.livejournal.com]

Leave it to Spike to come up with a plan that involves dancing and kissing *grin*

[umbralillium.livejournal.com]

*bounces and claps while grinning inanely* YAY! Angel finally got his head out of his ass! ^__~ EE! Kiss! (never thought you'd see me write that about het pairing, did you? *grin*) AND! OOOO! Orrrrr-eo cookies! *nibbles on her own Double Stuf Mint Oreos* ^______________^

[ex-dark-ami.livejournal.com]

Angel finally comes around. It's about time. :)

Great chapter!

[samson28.livejournal.com]

So good!

[mentalme85.livejournal.com]

Hee! Love Spikes plan, had a feelin there'd be dancing ^__^
Glad Angel finally had a clue, I do hope Spikes going to give him a bit of a hard time for a while, silly Angel. Loooove yoou!

[blue-icy-rose.livejournal.com]

Eeeeeee! They kissed! And crap, have I missed a lot on this one! Since...what, chapter 11? Something like that. But that just meant lots to read and I loved the entire description of them moving in. (And Spike's solution to just shoving the dresser.) I swear, I just get happier and happier with this story. Even when there's glimpses of angst or angst to come, I don't care. Still happy.

Oh! And Spike's plan? Yay! There was dancing and he called Fred beautiful and then they kissed! For the love of all that's holy, it's about time. *nods*

She should've felt horrible. She should've felt her smile disappear, her heart grow heavy at the thought of her friend so disgusted with her.

Instead, she did the opposite. Her smile only grew, and she winked at him.

I love that because right there, you see how different Fred is while at the same time, not being all that different. If that makes sense. Because she recognizes that normally, she'd feel horrible. But Fred's changing and becoming more confident and that allows her to smile and wink instead of cringe or look away. Which is wonderful to see.

And finally for Angel! It's about time, buddy. Only took you a bazillion years. Or, well, not really but still. I'm glad he's come to his senses and he realizes that she's still Fred. Oh and Buffy's "Pepsi?" right after the kiss had me cracking up. I'm still having serious love for that friendship. Loved it, as usualy, hon! ^_^

[cafedemonde.livejournal.com]

Awww, very sweet! For a second I thought that Angel was going to think it was Fred that had hurt the girl and they would be back to square one.

Nice chapter!