Ok, this is just a silly little one shot that I wrote a while ago. I'd say
it's around mid season 7, sometime after First Date.
Disclaimers: Yes, I actually *do* own Spike. He lets me dye his hair sometimes. And then I get to wear the leather coat. What? It's time for my medication? Hmm, but I'm not sure I want to feel Normal Again...
**
Buffy laid on her bed and sighed deeply. She listened as the sounds died down in her home. Soon, only the creaking of the structure and intermittent giggles from Dawn's room were heard. She got up slowly and gathered the things she had laid out on the bed. She quietly opened her door and padded down the hall.
She opened the bathroom door and immediately heard, "Bloody Hell! OWWW!"
She instinctively said, "SHHH," before she even realized what was happening. There was Spike, shirtless, leaning over the bathroom sink, with a bottle of hair dye poised over his head. Apparently some of the bleach had dripped into his eyes when she startled him, and he was now cursing, quietly though. She rushed over to him and grabbed the towel he had slung around his neck. She started dabbing his eyes as Spike curses turned to low, pained growls. Buffy turned on the water and began splashing his eyes.
"Are you ok? I didn't know anyone was in here," Buffy asked, some guilt showing in her eyes.
Spike continued to rub his eyes with the towel. "I'm fine. Just didn't expect anyone to be bargin' in here this time of night." He was blinking deliberately now, trying to overcome the burning and haze in his vision.
"Yeah, it's the only time of night to get the bathroom to yourself. Or so I thought." Buffy focused her gaze on the floor.
"Heh, same here." Spike's eyes were clearing up and he could focus a bit. When he looked at Buffy, his face turned whiter than usual. Buffy looked up at Spike and noticed his odd expression.
"What? That bleach finally seep into your brain?" Buffy said jokingly. Spike just stared at her and took a step backward. "Spike, WHAT, already? Did I grow another head or something?" She started looking herself over self-consciously.
Spike swallowed hard. "You, um...I haven't...we haven't been in this...room
since...before I left. And...you're wearing the same robe.....I just...I just." Realization hit Buffy just as Spike was pacing around frantically. "I can go finish up in the kitchen. I was just...I mean, I still have 5 minutes until this stuff comes out." Buffy was looking at Spike with something akin to bewilderment. She rarely saw Spike lose his cool like this.
"Spike, it's fine. You can finish in here. I'm going to be longer than 5 minutes anyway. Why don't you just give me a minute to jump in the shower.
Go hang in the hall or something. Then you can just rinse it out in here when you need to. I promise I won't look," Buffy tried to tease Spike, but his eyes were still wide as saucers.
"No, I mean, you still need your privacy. Your home after all. I'm just...I'm just the...monster in the closet. Or basement, in this case," Spike's attempt at levity failed worse than Buffy's.
"Oh! Spike!" Buffy was next to him in a second and shoved his head down over the sink. She grabbed the towel again and wiped away the bleach that was threatening to drip into his eye again. "You, uh, you just had some stuff running down your face. Didn't want it to get in your eyes again." She quickly became conscious that she had her hand on his neck. She took a quick look down his taut back and had a flashback from the time when they were lovers. Running her hands up and down his muscular back as he thrust inside her.
Buffy blushed, shook off the image and quickly removed her hand. Spike could sense her momentary arousal and couldn't help but smile. Buffy didn't notice as his face was still over the sink. She took a step back and looked at Spike thoughtfully.
"Why do you bleach your hair? I mean, how long have you done it. And why did you start?" Spike was taken aback for a moment, and he stood up straight to look at her.
He thought for a moment and then finally answered. "Well, back in 1953, Drusilla and I were in New Zealand. We would go out to the beach at dusk and catch the last of the surfers as they came in from the water. Um, you know...to eat. Drusilla liked the salty taste. I told her that you can't taste the salt in their blood, but for some reason she seemed to think...Um, anyway, one night she was...she had this bloke who'd had his hair bleached by the sun, all that surfing he did. She told me she'd like to see me with sun-bleached hair. I told her that was impossible, as I'd, ya know, burst in to flames the second I hit the rays. Well, she started crying about how I didn't love her and how I always said I'd do anything to make her happy. She wasn't wrong, I had always said that. And, I think she also said something about the sharks singing her a love song, but um...So, anyway, I told her I would do it, not having the slightest idea how I was going to accomplish it without burnin' up. Most of the strangest and stupidest things I've done were on account of that woman. Well, and you....." Buffy shifted uncomfortably at that. Spike picked up quickly, "So ya know, there I was with a promise to keep and no way of keepin' it. And then one day we were in Queenstown or some such place and I, uh, ran into this old gal who had blond hair, but not completely. Kinda like you got now, with the roots showing and whatnot."
Buffy gasped, "My roots are not showing! I mean, my hair color is natural!"
She quickly pushed him out of the way and looked into the mirror. Well, maybe *some* roots showing. Spike laughed and she looked up at him in the mirror. Or at least she tried to. She spun around and glared at him.
"Pet, let's not forget that I've *seen* your true hair color." Buffy looked confused. Spike smirked and let his eyes slide down her body.
They came to rest on a particular spot, and Buffy finally got his meaning. "OH! Geez, you're such a pig!" Buffy moved back to where she started, several feet from Spike. She folded her arms in classic Buffy-style as Spike continued his story.
"Well, see, the bird gave me an idea. I hadn't really known that women colored their hair back then. But I figured if they could do it, so could I. So I nicked some hair color at a little store and voila, here stands the Spike you know and love. Well.....you know what I mean."
Buffy uncrossed her arms and gave him a questioning look. "Why do you still do it? I mean, not like you can even see yourself. It's gotta be all the same to you. Light, dark, you'll never see it."
"Dunno. Back when you found me in the school...it's been a while, I'm sure you could tell. But I just knew that the last time I'd felt confident and whole, I'd been bleached. Not rightly sure why I connected the two, but I wasn't really in my square head then anyway."
"And now?" Buffy tilted her head and gestured toward him.
"And now...I guess I just got in the habit again. And well, I also figured it's the only way you knew me. The only version of me you'd ever...liked, I guess. But, then conversely, it's the only version of me that's ever hurt you. So...to answer your question, I really don't know why I do it. Why do *you* do it?" Spike tried to turn it to Buffy, so he could stop confusing himself.
Buffy stiffened a bit at the continued insinuation that she colored her hair, but knew that it was no use. "Because I think I look better as a blond," she stated simply.
"Oh," Spike looked at her and smiled a little. "That's probably a better answer. Can I change mine?"
Buffy smiled too. "I'm really curious to know what you looked like when you were human."
"A bleedin' ponce, is what. Had the foppin' hair, uppity clothes, little buggerin' reading glasses, you name it."
"You wore glasses? Huh...kind of hard to picture. But I can kind of imagine the brown hair. A little. It's hard to tell.....I've only known you like this. I think I would like to know William."
Spike squinted at her a bit. "Hair doesn't change the man, love. Or the monster, in this case.
"Spike, you're not a--"
"I bleedin' well AM. And you better never forget it. Can't imagine how you could, standing in this room with me."
"Spike, everything's different now. Like I've had to say umpteen million times aleady, you have a *soul* now. You can be a good man, and I believe that."
Spike laughed a bit, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, that buggerin' soul. You know it doesn't mean anything, right? Warren had a soul, Red had a soul when she did that stuff last year. Every killer and rapist in your prisons has a soul."
Buffy crossed to Spike, standing only a foot away from him. She looked up into his blue eyes that were set hard. "Willow was under the power of something bigger than her. It's the same reason we don't blame you for killing those people when the First was messing with you. And Warren, the others, rapists and killers, they all differ from you by one important point. More than one, but one that really matters. Those people are no good. You *are*. You're a good man. More importantly, you *want* to be good. You were good even before you got your soul," Buffy looked down at her hands, because she couldn't look in his eyes any longer.
"How can you say that? How can *you* say that? I was good? No, I was not! Do I need to give you a replay of what happened here?" Spike was livid and pacing around the small bathroom.
"Spike, one mistake doesn't cancel out all the good things you did."
"ONE? No, luv, there were thousands...thousands of 'mistakes' if you want to call them that."
"But you changed. Even before the soul, you changed."
"I changed for you. Soul doesn't make me good, it just makes me guilty. Every decent thing I've done since I was a vampire is because of you. And I know you don't want me, not like I want you. And I'm terrified that once you're not in my life anymore, I won't have a reason to be good. So, yeah, I stay here because you say you want me here. But I'm also staying because I'm too scared to go out and be on my own. Because if I don't have you to dream about, or you to knock me around, I won't have anything. It really *is* all about you, for me anyway. You're my world, and as big as I talk about not being used by you anymore, it's all just talk. If you just kept me in your basement for eternity to be your watchdog or your warrior, I'd stay. Not because I'm happy with crumbs you toss, but because I'm terrified of a world where you're not at the center." Spike had stopped pacing and his eyes were moist with emotion.
Buffy was speechless for a moment. She looked over at Spike, who struck her at that moment as a very scared little boy.
"Spike, you're a good man because you *are* a *good* *man*. Not because of me. Not that I wouldn't mind taking the credit. Sure, maybe you started trying to be good for me, trying to get my approval. But eventually the goodness that was in you just came on it's own. It's why you got a soul, isn't it? Because you couldn't stand being a good man who couldn't control his bad impulses? Or even because you knew you were good and a soul would just make you complete?"
"I got a soul because I thought it would make you love me. I was a stupid git for thinking so, but it's what I set out for nonetheless."
"You're right. I don't think I could love someone without a soul. And yeah, it's pretty stupid to think that just *having* a soul would make me love you. There are plenty of guys around who have souls that I don't love. Ask Riley. See, the thing is, if I love, I love the whole man, the soul being part of the package. I don't just love the soul."
Spike sighed, "Yeah, I get it, Slayer. You really don't need to do anymore knife-twisting, ok? Loud and clear."
Buffy gave him an exasperated groan, "You are an idiot sometimes, Spike." With that, she grabbed his head and shoved it to the sink. She turned on the water and commanded, "Rinse."
While Spike rinsed his hair, Buffy took the opportunity of him being preoccupied to slip out of her robe and into the shower.While she was washing, Spike finished his rinsing. As he was toweling off his newly platinumed do', Buffy popped her head around the curtain. "Spike, you want to shower?" Spike stood stunned for a moment. For several moments, in fact. Buffy rolled her eyes, "When I'm done, do you want to shower? Once you turn the water off, it takes a while to heat back up. I'll just leave it on if you wanted to shower."
Spike nodded mutely, still with the 'deer in the headlights' look. She motioned for him to turn around. He did so, still very confused. He heard the curtain pull back. He took a deep breath, trying to NOT think about the naked Buffy that was only feet away from him.
Buffy positioned herself behind Spike, so he couldn't see her in the mirror in front of him. She began toweling off. She couldn't resist the urge too look at his strong back and tight butt. She smiled appreciatively. Spike smiled to himself, figuring that Buffy must have forgotten that since he caste no reflection to block her own, he could see her perfectly behind him.
He almost felt guilty for looking, but after that once over she gave him, he didn't feel so bad. He watched her drying herself, trying to remember the feel of each spot that the towel touched. Too soon, she slipped into her robe and said, "Ok, I'm decent." Spike stifled a smirk as he turned toward her. "Just be sure to lock the door. Don't want any of those impressionable young girls seeing something they shouldn't." Spike chuckled at her remark, thinking if she only knew what he had seen.....
She started out the door. Spike followed and began to shut it behind her. Unable to resist, he opened it again and called to her in the hall. She turned to him. "Pet, just for future reference, when it comes to mirrors, I make a better window than I do a door." With that, he closed and locked the door. He leaned against the door for her inevitable response. None came, and he heard her continuing to her room.
Then, faintly, he heard what could only be caught with supernatural hearing. "Duh...he really *is* an idiot sometimes."
The End
**
Whatcha guys think? It's just a little story I threw together a few months ago and had forgotten about until now.
Disclaimers: Yes, I actually *do* own Spike. He lets me dye his hair sometimes. And then I get to wear the leather coat. What? It's time for my medication? Hmm, but I'm not sure I want to feel Normal Again...
**
Buffy laid on her bed and sighed deeply. She listened as the sounds died down in her home. Soon, only the creaking of the structure and intermittent giggles from Dawn's room were heard. She got up slowly and gathered the things she had laid out on the bed. She quietly opened her door and padded down the hall.
She opened the bathroom door and immediately heard, "Bloody Hell! OWWW!"
She instinctively said, "SHHH," before she even realized what was happening. There was Spike, shirtless, leaning over the bathroom sink, with a bottle of hair dye poised over his head. Apparently some of the bleach had dripped into his eyes when she startled him, and he was now cursing, quietly though. She rushed over to him and grabbed the towel he had slung around his neck. She started dabbing his eyes as Spike curses turned to low, pained growls. Buffy turned on the water and began splashing his eyes.
"Are you ok? I didn't know anyone was in here," Buffy asked, some guilt showing in her eyes.
Spike continued to rub his eyes with the towel. "I'm fine. Just didn't expect anyone to be bargin' in here this time of night." He was blinking deliberately now, trying to overcome the burning and haze in his vision.
"Yeah, it's the only time of night to get the bathroom to yourself. Or so I thought." Buffy focused her gaze on the floor.
"Heh, same here." Spike's eyes were clearing up and he could focus a bit. When he looked at Buffy, his face turned whiter than usual. Buffy looked up at Spike and noticed his odd expression.
"What? That bleach finally seep into your brain?" Buffy said jokingly. Spike just stared at her and took a step backward. "Spike, WHAT, already? Did I grow another head or something?" She started looking herself over self-consciously.
Spike swallowed hard. "You, um...I haven't...we haven't been in this...room
since...before I left. And...you're wearing the same robe.....I just...I just." Realization hit Buffy just as Spike was pacing around frantically. "I can go finish up in the kitchen. I was just...I mean, I still have 5 minutes until this stuff comes out." Buffy was looking at Spike with something akin to bewilderment. She rarely saw Spike lose his cool like this.
"Spike, it's fine. You can finish in here. I'm going to be longer than 5 minutes anyway. Why don't you just give me a minute to jump in the shower.
Go hang in the hall or something. Then you can just rinse it out in here when you need to. I promise I won't look," Buffy tried to tease Spike, but his eyes were still wide as saucers.
"No, I mean, you still need your privacy. Your home after all. I'm just...I'm just the...monster in the closet. Or basement, in this case," Spike's attempt at levity failed worse than Buffy's.
"Oh! Spike!" Buffy was next to him in a second and shoved his head down over the sink. She grabbed the towel again and wiped away the bleach that was threatening to drip into his eye again. "You, uh, you just had some stuff running down your face. Didn't want it to get in your eyes again." She quickly became conscious that she had her hand on his neck. She took a quick look down his taut back and had a flashback from the time when they were lovers. Running her hands up and down his muscular back as he thrust inside her.
Buffy blushed, shook off the image and quickly removed her hand. Spike could sense her momentary arousal and couldn't help but smile. Buffy didn't notice as his face was still over the sink. She took a step back and looked at Spike thoughtfully.
"Why do you bleach your hair? I mean, how long have you done it. And why did you start?" Spike was taken aback for a moment, and he stood up straight to look at her.
He thought for a moment and then finally answered. "Well, back in 1953, Drusilla and I were in New Zealand. We would go out to the beach at dusk and catch the last of the surfers as they came in from the water. Um, you know...to eat. Drusilla liked the salty taste. I told her that you can't taste the salt in their blood, but for some reason she seemed to think...Um, anyway, one night she was...she had this bloke who'd had his hair bleached by the sun, all that surfing he did. She told me she'd like to see me with sun-bleached hair. I told her that was impossible, as I'd, ya know, burst in to flames the second I hit the rays. Well, she started crying about how I didn't love her and how I always said I'd do anything to make her happy. She wasn't wrong, I had always said that. And, I think she also said something about the sharks singing her a love song, but um...So, anyway, I told her I would do it, not having the slightest idea how I was going to accomplish it without burnin' up. Most of the strangest and stupidest things I've done were on account of that woman. Well, and you....." Buffy shifted uncomfortably at that. Spike picked up quickly, "So ya know, there I was with a promise to keep and no way of keepin' it. And then one day we were in Queenstown or some such place and I, uh, ran into this old gal who had blond hair, but not completely. Kinda like you got now, with the roots showing and whatnot."
Buffy gasped, "My roots are not showing! I mean, my hair color is natural!"
She quickly pushed him out of the way and looked into the mirror. Well, maybe *some* roots showing. Spike laughed and she looked up at him in the mirror. Or at least she tried to. She spun around and glared at him.
"Pet, let's not forget that I've *seen* your true hair color." Buffy looked confused. Spike smirked and let his eyes slide down her body.
They came to rest on a particular spot, and Buffy finally got his meaning. "OH! Geez, you're such a pig!" Buffy moved back to where she started, several feet from Spike. She folded her arms in classic Buffy-style as Spike continued his story.
"Well, see, the bird gave me an idea. I hadn't really known that women colored their hair back then. But I figured if they could do it, so could I. So I nicked some hair color at a little store and voila, here stands the Spike you know and love. Well.....you know what I mean."
Buffy uncrossed her arms and gave him a questioning look. "Why do you still do it? I mean, not like you can even see yourself. It's gotta be all the same to you. Light, dark, you'll never see it."
"Dunno. Back when you found me in the school...it's been a while, I'm sure you could tell. But I just knew that the last time I'd felt confident and whole, I'd been bleached. Not rightly sure why I connected the two, but I wasn't really in my square head then anyway."
"And now?" Buffy tilted her head and gestured toward him.
"And now...I guess I just got in the habit again. And well, I also figured it's the only way you knew me. The only version of me you'd ever...liked, I guess. But, then conversely, it's the only version of me that's ever hurt you. So...to answer your question, I really don't know why I do it. Why do *you* do it?" Spike tried to turn it to Buffy, so he could stop confusing himself.
Buffy stiffened a bit at the continued insinuation that she colored her hair, but knew that it was no use. "Because I think I look better as a blond," she stated simply.
"Oh," Spike looked at her and smiled a little. "That's probably a better answer. Can I change mine?"
Buffy smiled too. "I'm really curious to know what you looked like when you were human."
"A bleedin' ponce, is what. Had the foppin' hair, uppity clothes, little buggerin' reading glasses, you name it."
"You wore glasses? Huh...kind of hard to picture. But I can kind of imagine the brown hair. A little. It's hard to tell.....I've only known you like this. I think I would like to know William."
Spike squinted at her a bit. "Hair doesn't change the man, love. Or the monster, in this case.
"Spike, you're not a--"
"I bleedin' well AM. And you better never forget it. Can't imagine how you could, standing in this room with me."
"Spike, everything's different now. Like I've had to say umpteen million times aleady, you have a *soul* now. You can be a good man, and I believe that."
Spike laughed a bit, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, that buggerin' soul. You know it doesn't mean anything, right? Warren had a soul, Red had a soul when she did that stuff last year. Every killer and rapist in your prisons has a soul."
Buffy crossed to Spike, standing only a foot away from him. She looked up into his blue eyes that were set hard. "Willow was under the power of something bigger than her. It's the same reason we don't blame you for killing those people when the First was messing with you. And Warren, the others, rapists and killers, they all differ from you by one important point. More than one, but one that really matters. Those people are no good. You *are*. You're a good man. More importantly, you *want* to be good. You were good even before you got your soul," Buffy looked down at her hands, because she couldn't look in his eyes any longer.
"How can you say that? How can *you* say that? I was good? No, I was not! Do I need to give you a replay of what happened here?" Spike was livid and pacing around the small bathroom.
"Spike, one mistake doesn't cancel out all the good things you did."
"ONE? No, luv, there were thousands...thousands of 'mistakes' if you want to call them that."
"But you changed. Even before the soul, you changed."
"I changed for you. Soul doesn't make me good, it just makes me guilty. Every decent thing I've done since I was a vampire is because of you. And I know you don't want me, not like I want you. And I'm terrified that once you're not in my life anymore, I won't have a reason to be good. So, yeah, I stay here because you say you want me here. But I'm also staying because I'm too scared to go out and be on my own. Because if I don't have you to dream about, or you to knock me around, I won't have anything. It really *is* all about you, for me anyway. You're my world, and as big as I talk about not being used by you anymore, it's all just talk. If you just kept me in your basement for eternity to be your watchdog or your warrior, I'd stay. Not because I'm happy with crumbs you toss, but because I'm terrified of a world where you're not at the center." Spike had stopped pacing and his eyes were moist with emotion.
Buffy was speechless for a moment. She looked over at Spike, who struck her at that moment as a very scared little boy.
"Spike, you're a good man because you *are* a *good* *man*. Not because of me. Not that I wouldn't mind taking the credit. Sure, maybe you started trying to be good for me, trying to get my approval. But eventually the goodness that was in you just came on it's own. It's why you got a soul, isn't it? Because you couldn't stand being a good man who couldn't control his bad impulses? Or even because you knew you were good and a soul would just make you complete?"
"I got a soul because I thought it would make you love me. I was a stupid git for thinking so, but it's what I set out for nonetheless."
"You're right. I don't think I could love someone without a soul. And yeah, it's pretty stupid to think that just *having* a soul would make me love you. There are plenty of guys around who have souls that I don't love. Ask Riley. See, the thing is, if I love, I love the whole man, the soul being part of the package. I don't just love the soul."
Spike sighed, "Yeah, I get it, Slayer. You really don't need to do anymore knife-twisting, ok? Loud and clear."
Buffy gave him an exasperated groan, "You are an idiot sometimes, Spike." With that, she grabbed his head and shoved it to the sink. She turned on the water and commanded, "Rinse."
While Spike rinsed his hair, Buffy took the opportunity of him being preoccupied to slip out of her robe and into the shower.While she was washing, Spike finished his rinsing. As he was toweling off his newly platinumed do', Buffy popped her head around the curtain. "Spike, you want to shower?" Spike stood stunned for a moment. For several moments, in fact. Buffy rolled her eyes, "When I'm done, do you want to shower? Once you turn the water off, it takes a while to heat back up. I'll just leave it on if you wanted to shower."
Spike nodded mutely, still with the 'deer in the headlights' look. She motioned for him to turn around. He did so, still very confused. He heard the curtain pull back. He took a deep breath, trying to NOT think about the naked Buffy that was only feet away from him.
Buffy positioned herself behind Spike, so he couldn't see her in the mirror in front of him. She began toweling off. She couldn't resist the urge too look at his strong back and tight butt. She smiled appreciatively. Spike smiled to himself, figuring that Buffy must have forgotten that since he caste no reflection to block her own, he could see her perfectly behind him.
He almost felt guilty for looking, but after that once over she gave him, he didn't feel so bad. He watched her drying herself, trying to remember the feel of each spot that the towel touched. Too soon, she slipped into her robe and said, "Ok, I'm decent." Spike stifled a smirk as he turned toward her. "Just be sure to lock the door. Don't want any of those impressionable young girls seeing something they shouldn't." Spike chuckled at her remark, thinking if she only knew what he had seen.....
She started out the door. Spike followed and began to shut it behind her. Unable to resist, he opened it again and called to her in the hall. She turned to him. "Pet, just for future reference, when it comes to mirrors, I make a better window than I do a door." With that, he closed and locked the door. He leaned against the door for her inevitable response. None came, and he heard her continuing to her room.
Then, faintly, he heard what could only be caught with supernatural hearing. "Duh...he really *is* an idiot sometimes."
The End
**
Whatcha guys think? It's just a little story I threw together a few months ago and had forgotten about until now.