Runaway Mouth
Summary: Spike is injured while on patrol. Buffy comes to take care of him. He seriously has no control over what's coming out of his mouth. Can she take it?
Disclaimer: I still don't even own pocket lint, much less these two.
Rating: PG for imagination
A/N: This is all Karma's fault. She gave me such a sweet review, my muse came back and clobbered me on the head. In my little universe Buffy isn't such a flaming bitch to Spike.
Feedback: Sure. If you feel the need. Once more, please no flames, I don't want to be dust. Rookie writer though, could use contructive criticsism.
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Spike slammed the door to his crypt closed. He held his head hoping to keep it from falling off. Something sticky coated his fingers. He pulled his hand down and inspected it.
"Bloody Hell!" The last demon had gotten in more of a damaging shot than he'd thought. No wonder his head was killing him. He heard the door open. 'Damn.' He thought. 'I sooo don't need this.' Turning to face the intruder he spoke wearily.
"What now, Slayer?"
"You were bleeding. I wanted to see if you needed help." Buffy said defensively as she closed the door.
"I'm fine. I bleed all the time. Comes with fighting demons. You should know that, Slayer." Spike just wanted her to leave so he could collapse on his bed. He thought longingly of his brand new satin sheets and comforter he'd bought the day before. He would have to seriously clean up before getting into them though. As much as he loved his slayer, he just wanted to be left alone at the moment. His head was hurting so much he couldn't see straight. Wait, that was literally. His vision was beginning to go. Everything in front of him was wavering. He shakily made his way over to his easy chair and sat down.
Buffy rushed to help him. "Spike! This is serious. Let me help you."
Spike brushed her off. "As if you care."
She looked down at the floor. She really didn't have an answer to that. She certainly didn't hate him as much as she told him she did. She had been battling her feelings for a while. For some reason even she couldn't explain, she couldn't let him know she was beginning to care. "Do you have any water? I need to clean this so I can see how bad it is."
"You're not going, are you?" He asked sadly.
Buffy looked at him strangely. "No, you need help. And I'm going to help you whether you like it or not."
He gave a little half smile at her answer. Never one to do what anyone else said, his slayer had a mind of her own. "I haven't run plumbing yet. There's bottled water over in the corner. I use it to clean up. Really have to put in a shower. Getting bloody hard to keep clean with just bottled water. Don't know how we did it when I was a lad. No running water. It's the greatest in invention since the refrigerator." He was rambling but for some reason couldn't stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. "I guess running water came before the refrigerator. I can't remember. So many things are different now. We didn't have so many things back then. Do you know that the telephone had just been invented when I was turned? Now they have these tiny little phones that fit in the palm of your hand. It took two people to mount the cursed things on the walls when they first came out. I like this time better. We didn't have spicy wings when I was human. Mother wouldn't let me have beer. It lead to evil things, she said. I don't see what's so evil about it."
"Trust me beer is bad." Buffy said wryly thinking of her experience with cursed beer.
"Maybe so, but it does give one a really nice floaty feeling if you have just enough." Spike looked at Buffy kneeling in front of him soaking a cloth with the water she'd found. He brushed a finger thru the hair at her temple. "You are so beautiful." He murmured. "I feel floaty but I don't remember having any beer. I just wish you wouldn't spin around like that. It's making me dizzy. But then I get somewhat dizzy when I look at you anyway. Damn, I never meant to tell you that. I'm reverting back to the nancy-boy poof I was before Angelus turned me. Didn't know that did you? Angelus turned me. Not Dru. She forgot how to finish it. She turned a lot of people. She liked having her minions. But she just couldn't do it to me. She said that the stars distracted her. She took me home to her 'Daddy' and he finished it. Then he started making me evil. I never wanted to be evil. At least not at first. But, damn, it was fun making all those wankers pay for insulting my poetry. I was a poet. Bloody awful poetry it was. That's where I really got my nickname William the Bloody. It started out as William the Bloody Awful Poet. Do you know how bad that hurt?" He fell silent for a moment reflecting on past injuries to his pride.
Buffy looked at him while she cleaned his wound. He's taken a pretty bad crack to the head. She inspected the gash that was continuing to ooze blood. It was deep and about two inches long. Fortunately his vampire healing was dealing with it. The red was beginning to stain his platinum blond hair. She never could figure out why he bleached it. There were some things about her vampire she wasn't certain she ever wanted to know but had a funny feeling she would before this night was over. Wait a minute. 'Her vampire? Whoa, let's not go there.'
She stood up. "You need blood. Do you have any?"
"Yeah Luv. It's in the big funny looking box over there." He waved a hand in the general direction of the refrigerator.
She got a bag out, surprised that it was cold. That's when she noticed the electrical outlets on the walls. Following the one plugged in with the refrigerator, she found a small microwave on a table. A mug sat on top of it. She ripped open the bag of blood and dumped the contents into the mug. Opening the microwave door she put the mug in to heat. She shook her head in wonder. For a dead thing, he sure liked his creature comforts. She knew that he'd put in a queen-sized bed a couple of weeks ago. His crypt was beginning to resemble a nice apartment. The microwave pinged and she took the blood out and carried over to the wounded vampire.
He had put his head back and had his eyes closed. The room didn't spin quite so much when his eyes were closed. But then he couldn't see his beautiful slayer that way so he opened them. She knelt in front of him again holding the mug up to his lips. His face vamped involuntarily at the scent. He sipped the red fluid slowly. He turned his face away as soon as he finished. Returning to his human visage he looked at Buffy.
"Why are you here?" He wondered. "You don't love me, no one loves me. Not since my mother. Sometimes I wondered about her too. It's weighed on me for some time now. She really hated me at the end. But then it may have been the demon talking. I loved her so much. I loved Dru but she loved her Daddy." His face was heartbreakingly sad. His blue gaze rested on the tiny blonde in front of him. "No one has ever really loved me." He repeated. He gave a huge unneeded sigh. "Can't be my fault, I'm bloody lovable. Damn sexy too."
Buffy gave a muffled giggle at the sudden mood change.
"You find me funny?" She wisely kept silent and let him ramble. "Angelus found me funny. He would laugh while beating me for some small transgression. It didn't take much to incur Angelus' wrath. Sometimes I think he beat me just for the fun of it. Don't know why he kept me around as long as he did. Could be Dru wouldn't let him get rid of me. She liked having a playmate around while Angelus was playing with Darla. We were some kind of family. I guess beating me was his way of turning me evil. It certainly made me hate him." He paused. "I guess hate is too strong a word. Kind of like hating your father. You can't really hate him. You take what he gives out and grow up from it."
Buffy noticed that his gash had stopped bleeding. She rose to finish cleaning the blood from his hair. She ran her fingers though his curls marveling at how soft they were. There, she had gotten it all. She got a clean cloth and wet it. Kneeling again, she began washing his face. His eyes drifted shut again at the feeling. It felt so good to have someone fuss over him. Buffy finished washing his face and sat back on her heels. 'He's so handsome.' She thought. 'No! Bad Buffy! Evil vampire here. Can't think good thoughts.' But she looked at him and remembered what he'd been saying. 'Well, maybe not so evil.'
He opened his eyes again as she stopped touching him. "Thanks, Pet. You should go home. The Niblet needs you."
"Willow is with her. They know I was patrolling with you. They won't worry." Buffy told him gently. "You need someone with you, you're hurt really badly."
"Been hurt worse before. No one but me to take care of it. Damn, my head still hurts. What did that thing do to me? Feels worse than when that sodding chip is firing." He moaned softly and rested his head back on the cushion. "Don't miss hunting much any more. Not since I found out I can fight demons. They're more fun than humans. They give a right good fight, demons do. I didn't like fighting when I was human. I just wanted to be left alone with my poetry. I loved Cecily but she didn't love me. She told me I was beneath her. Little nancy-boy William cried at that."
Buffy looked down at that revelation. She's said those same words to him. Now she wished she hadn't. It seemed too cruel now.
"I wrote a lot of poems when I was William. Haven't picked up a pen since... can't remember how long ago. Started to write once but Angelus caught me. He threw away my paper and all my pencils. Worst beating he ever gave me, that was. No childe of his was going to be a poem writing git. Was bruised for almost a week after that. Angelus was one vicious bastard." Spike fell silent once more. His dark blue gaze was distant, looking at something outside normal vision.
Buffy rose and started looking around for some clean clothes for Spike. He needed to get into bed. She hoped she could get him downstairs without hurting him worse. She didn't see any clothing in the room they were in so she went down the ladder to the bedroom. She knew there was a dresser there. Ah, she found them. Clean black t-shirts and black jeans. On second thought maybe a t-shirt wasn't the best choice. It's going to be hard enough getting the dirty one off without hurting him. She looked in the next drawer. There, he did have some button down shirts. She chose a royal blue one. Turning to go back upstairs she noticed the new bedding. Wow, he had good taste. The red and black comforter was neatly folded on top of deep red satin sheets. Matching large pillows at the top made the bed look way too inviting. She looked away and went back up the ladder.
Spike started when she touched his arm. "I thought you'd left, Pet."
"No, I went looking for clean clothes. We have to get you out of these dirty things and get you into bed." Buffy pulled off his boots and socks then started tugging on his torn and dirty t-shirt.
Spike smirked at her. "I don't wear clothes to bed, Pet. William, he used to wear this big night shirt. Just like in the old movies. They really got that little detail right. Not a lot else though. Some of the clothes they show in the older movies are just wrong. I sleep nude, Luv."
Buffy blushed. She didn't know she could still do that. Standing him up, she pulled the t-shirt over his head gently. She gasped at the bruising on his torso.
He looked down at himself at the sound. "Bloody Hell, gonna feel that tomorrow." He looked at Buffy with sparkling blue eyes. "Are you sure the old poof wasn't out there. This looks like some of his work."
Buffy blanched. Obviously he'd been through some horrific beatings as a fledgling vampire. She checked him over quickly, searching for any bleeding wounds.
Spike noticed the look on her face. He tipped her face up with one finger. "Pet, don't fuss so. I'll get better. I've had worse. Hell, I've done worse." He instantly regretted the last statement. He seriously didn't have any control over his mouth. Dizziness swept over him again, causing his body to sway. Buffy caught him by shoving herself under his arm.
"Can you get down the ladder?" She asked.
He nodded. "I think so. Maybe you should go down first and catch me if I fall." He leered at her.
"Behave yourself. Okay, let's do this. You need to lay down." She guided him over to the hole in the floor leading to his bedroom. "Careful now, if you fall I'll leave you where you lay." She warned him as she started down. He started a couple of steps after her so she was almost directly behind him. Half way down, he hesitated for a moment swaying on the step. She placed a small hand on his side waiting for him to steady.
He took a deep unneeded breath and nodded. "I'm okay." He said suddenly serious. Soon they reached the floor and he held onto the ladder for a moment.
"Okay, let's go." She said. Once more putting his arm around her shoulders, she guided him to the bed.
"Wait a second, Luv. New sheets you know." Spike reached for the buckle on his heavy leather belt. She spun around as his black jeans slid down his long legs. She heard the rustle of satin as he got into the bed. Sitting up and leaning against the red and black pillows he was a luscious sight.
"Slayer." She slowly turned around and lost her breath. He had scooted over to the middle of the bed and was propped up amid the fluffy pillows.
He smiled sleepily. "Care to join me?" He asked softly.
She walked over as if in a trance. He was so beautiful. So sleek and muscular, he was the most perfect male she'd ever seen. And so bruised. She swallowed as she saw his bare chest. He had to be in pain. She sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed.
"I won't break you know." He chuckled.
She smiled wryly. "I know. But you have to be hurting. I don't want to cause you any pain."
"Buffy." He whispered. She had to lean over to hear him. "I hurt whenever I look at you. I love you so much." His gorgeous eyes began to close. He tried to stop himself but his mouth had a mind of its own tonight. He'd told her so much more than he'd ever told anyone. "Knowing you don't love me causes more pain than anything Angelus or any other demon has ever done to me." He sighed, almost asleep. "But I bear the pain because not seeing you would kill me."
Tears sparkled in Buffy's green eyes. She watched the most unusual vampire, who was she kidding, the most unusual person she'd ever met, sleep. Then she smiled. She knew he'd be mortified when he remembered all the things he'd told her. But it would be their little secret. Maybe, just maybe, some day she would return the favor and tell him things she'd never admit to under normal circumstances. The events of the night caught up to her and she slipped her shoes off. Mindful of his new comforter, she carefully laid down on top of it next to him. Then she slid into sleep.
The vampire sighed in his sleep and smiled. Even unconscious he knew she was there and the pain eased.
Finis
