Blood trickled into a red puddle next to him as Spike lay quietly on the floor. He was dead. Dead, dead, dead. Despite how badly he wanted to leap up and attack them all, he had to play the part. Dead man. Dead boyfriend. And, fuck, why had she gone for the neck anyway? That had hurt. Bitch owed him big time for this one. He'd think to himself, of course, but then as soon as they got Buffy out of here Spike knew that the last thing he'd be thinking about was the amount of blood stained into his precious jacket. It'd be all about her. Was she okay? Did she need help? Did she want for him to stay around to watch over her while she slept? He'd want to ask her those things. But maybe, because he knew that Buffy would deny him, Spike would just watch over her without her knowledge. He used to be good at it before, back when he did choose to stalk her around. He could do it again easily enough. Just until she was all right.
...and here he was, thinking that this was the same Buffy all over again. His Buffy. This was NOT his Buffy.
And yet he was here bleeding on the floor for her anyway.
Finally, when Spike thought he couldn't take it anymore, the crew began to dance to life and Faith started to turn everything around on them. Hearing Buffy, sounding oddly like...well, like Buffy, Spike lifted himself from the ground, ignoring the flow of blood at this throat. There were more important things to take care of. Like the fucking moron who was trying to go at Buffy while she was all chained up. Now that was just rude.
Faith could handle Gus. She had him in chains. Buffy, however...
Spike was stepping in front of her in a flash, gesturing for the vampire to come at him. "Sorry, mate, but you're going to have to dance with me before you get a proper swing in with the girl here." Spike smirked a bit. "And I don't slowdance. So you'd better not hold back on me."