Beta'd by epd4 and Behind Blue Eyes. Thanks to both of them for all of their help and any mistakes that remain are mine and mine alone.
Thanks to everyone that has commented. Your comments mean a lot and I appreciate every single one.
Bruises
Chapter 8 – Kitten
As soon as the front door had closed behind Giles, Buffy picked up Spike's knapsack and headed for the stairs. "C'mon, Spike. Your room is up here."
Spike silently followed her up the stairs as he looked over the family pictures hanging on the wall. About halfway up he stopped and pointed to a picture of a young Buffy holding a baby. "The little bird looks like you, but who's the sprog?"
Buffy stepped back down next to him with a chuckle and grinned at the picture. "The 'sprog' is my little sister, Dawn. This was taken the day Mom and Dad brought her home from the hospital."
Spike glanced up the stairs nervously. "You have a sister? You've never spoken of her… least not that I've heard… and she's here?"
Buffy nodded with a small chuckle, "Well, yeah. Where else would she be? Mom usually keeps her out of the way when we get a new kid… and it is kinda late, so she's asleep in her room. And I don't talk about her at school because A… she's nine… and B… aside from sneaking into my room and stealing my clothes… which don't even fit her, so I don't know why she does… she's not all that annoying… yet." She took in the slightly frightened look on Spike's face and laid her hand gently on his shoulder. "Mom will put her on the bus in the morning while we're still asleep so you probably won't even see her until tomorrow afternoon. And she's really a good kid, Spike. She's not all Damien or 'Problem Child' or anything. She's just a little girl, so you don't have to be scared."
"I'm not scared… it's just… I'm not used to bein' 'round young kids... well… girls… at any rate. She's not gonna try to put makeup on me or anythin', is she? Isn't that what little girls do?"
Buffy laughed, "She might… guess we'll just have to wait and see. Bet you'd look beautiful." She winked at Spike. "She might even have you play 'tea party' with her… you know… because you're English just like Dad. You should see him when he plays with her, perched on a little tiny chair holding a little tiny cup… it's hilarious... just don't drink the tea if she makes it…"
Spike groaned, "A tea party? Do I have to?"
Buffy shook her head with a grin, "No, you don't have to. Actually, she probably won't bother you a whole lot. I'm pretty sure she's still at the 'boys are yucky' stage, so the only 'boy' she actually likes right now is Dad."
Spike let out a relieved sigh then looked at several of the other pictures. He smiled at a picture of Buffy with pigtails and ice cream all over her face. "How old are you in this photo?"
Buffy leaned down and grinned, "Five. That was in LA not long before we moved here."
Spike lifted his hand and traced his fingertips lightly over the smiling Buffy in the picture. "You were very cute."
Buffy huffed and raised her hand to her hip. "Were? As in past tense? I'm not cute now?"
Spike dropped his hand and looked up at her with wide eyes. "No… I mean, yes! You're cute now. I didn't mean…"
Buffy giggled and smacked him lightly on the arm. "I'm just messing with you, Spike. You're pretty cute yourself when you're all embarrassed." She turned and started back up the stairs.
Spike smiled and followed her, "That wasn't very nice, pet. Might have to tell your mum that you're bein' shirty to the guests."
Buffy stopped in front of a door and swung it wide. "You're not a guest, Spike. You live here, so I can be as 'shirty' to you as I want." She stuck out her tongue then giggled and stepped into the room.
He stepped in after her, a retort ready on his lips, but it dried up as he looked around the huge room and took in the décor. Almost the entire room was done in red and black. The ceiling and walls were painted black with a wide, blood-red stripe that circled the room at chest height, and the carpet was a deep red with matching blood-red curtains. The king size bed, on the other hand, was dressed in a light blue duvet with half a dozen blue, lace covered pillows stacked in front of the black, wrought iron headboard. He looked over the numerous black-light posters that were hanging on the walls, his eyes getting progressively wider as they circled the room. "Skulls? Skeletons? Zombies? Vampires? Who used to live in here? And which mental institution or maximum security prison are they currently residing in?"
Buffy laughed as she dropped Spike's knapsack on the floor next to a large black duffel bag. "This used to be Faith's room. She was a little bit goth during high school and a lot psycho during college, and Mom just hasn't gotten around to re-doing the room. We have two other empty rooms so this one hardly ever gets used when we foster kids."
Spike stepped up next to the bed and ran his fingers over the duvet. "I understand the paint and posters, but this? It really doesn't… uh… mesh… with the rest of the room."
Buffy shrugged, "Mom changed the sheets and stuff. It's usually an all black blanket with red satin sheets." She watched Spike look warily around the room again then glance back out at the hallway. "You can have one of the other rooms if you want, but I asked Mom to give you this one 'cause it's the biggest and mine's right next door. The other two rooms are a lot smaller and on the third floor with my parent's room and I figured you'd rather be closer to me than them."
Spike looked sheepishly down at the floor beside the bed and mumbled, "This room will be fine. I didn't mean to appear ungrateful. I'm sorry, Buffy."
Buffy stepped up in front of him and wrapped her arms around his middle, laying her head on his shoulder. She smiled when his arms lifted up and tentatively wrapped around her, then she snuggled closer and said quietly. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Spike. It's been a really shitty day… hell… for you it's been a shitty year… and I know you've got to be exhausted." She stepped back and looked him in the eye. "You can tell me anything, you know… don't worry about squicking me or if I'll judge you… 'cause I won't. If you need to get stuff off your chest… just talk… and I'll listen. Also if something is wigging you out and you need help… just let me know. Okay? You don't have to handle all this on your own anymore."
Spike turned away slightly and looked down at the floor. "You've done so much for me already… I don't want to keep burdening you." He took a deep breath. "I'm damaged, Buffy. I'm 'bout three steps away from bein' completely sack of hammers and I don't want to put all that on your shoulders."
Buffy reached up and patted her shoulders, "Hey… they may look small, but they're strong and they can handle a lot. And if there's something I don't think I can handle then I'll find someone to help both of us, ok?" She reached out and gently lifted Spike's chin. "And you're not damaged, Spike, not permanently. You've been damaged, but you'll heal. And you're not crazy, either… yes, I understand your weird British phrases and I'm telling you right now that your sack is still short a bunch of hammers…" Spike snorted and a small smile flitted across his face. Buffy smiled back, "You're gonna get through this. Now, let me show you the bathroom and you can take a shower if you want."
Spike nervously fingered his shirt. "Um… I don't have a kit to change into…"
Buffy stepped over and lifted the black duffel onto the bed. "This must be yours. Dad said Faith brought some of your stuff from your house." She started to unzip the bag then stopped and looked up at Spike. "Um… I'll just let you do that. I don't want to snoop through your stuff. Your bathroom is just through that door there. I'll go check to see if you have towels and things for your shower while you dig out some clothes."
Spike looked at where she was pointing and gasped. "I have my own loo?"
Buffy giggled, "Yes. This was the master bedroom when Mom and Dad bought the house, but they remodeled and added the third floor so we'd have more room, and Faith got this room 'cause she's older."
Spike watched her walk into the bathroom then turned to the bag on the bed and finished unzipping it. He pulled out a few stacks of clothes and another pair of boots and set them on the bed then opened the bag wide and stared in surprise at the four items sitting next to a small tub stuffed with shampoo and the like. "Well, Faith's thorough, I'll give her that." He pulled out a photo album and three books that he'd hidden in the attic crawlspace entrance in his closet, then held them in his arms as he debated whether or not he should leave them in the bag.
"You can put those wherever you want, and Mom emptied the dresser so there's plenty of room for your clothes. If there's more stuff you want to get from your house, I can call Faith tomorrow and see what she can do to make that happen."
Spike looked up at her standing in the bathroom doorway then shook his head. "No, that's all right. I don't have anythin' else. This is it. Faith got it all."
Buffy eyed the clothes on the bed and the items that Spike was holding and her jaw dropped. "That's it?
Spike nodded sadly and turned toward the nightstand, depositing the books on top and putting the photo album in the drawer. He fished Gunn's card out of his pocket and slipped it into the front cover of the top book. "Yeah. My Da went through my room and binned everythin' about three days after Mum went to hospital. The books and album were the only things I managed to save when he went down to get more rubbish bags. I hid them in the attic… I'm surprised your cousin found them."
Buffy shrugged, "Faith's very snoopy… she's like a bloodhound or something. That's why she's such a good cop." Buffy walked over to the bed and lifted an article of clothing from the closest pile. "He threw out everything? Why?"
Spike shrugged, "He said I didn't deserve to have things and that I didn't need them anyway."
Buffy's jaw dropped again. "Why wouldn't you need your own stuff?"
Spike shrugged again. "After Mum went to hospital, the only time he allowed me in my room was to get dressed to leave the house. He even took the furniture out. The only thing in there was a box with my clothes in it."
Buffy dropped down onto the bed, her eyes wide with shock. "What an incredible asshole!" She clenched her fist in the fabric she was holding then took a deep breath and forced herself to loosen her fingers. She unfolded the now slightly wrinkled garment and lifted it up. It was a ratty sweatshirt with a large hole in one elbow that looked to be about four sizes too big for Spike. She dropped it beside her on the bed and picked up another item, another sweatshirt that she didn't even need to hold up to tell that it was too big. She sifted quickly through the rest of the clothes, finding exactly three pairs of threadbare socks, two pairs of jeans… complete with gaping holes… two more holey, too big shirts… and that was it. "These are your clothes, Spike? What happened to the punk t-shirts and the tight black jeans? And your duster? Or your tweed suits? You looked really good in those… you know… in a hot, brainy guy kinda way… not that you don't look good in anything… just saying."
Spike blushed at the compliment and looked down at the bed. "Da binned it all, even the duster, and got me these things at a lawn sale. Said it's all I deserved."
Buffy looked over the clothes again then peeked into the bag. "Um… you don't have any pajamas… or… um… underwear."
Spike's face heated even more as he dropped his gaze even lower and looked down at his feet. "Yeah… um… they were binned as well. Da wouldn't let me wear clothes at home… so no need for pajamas… and he said knickers were a waste of his time 'cause it took me too long to get 'em off when I got home. I wasn't allowed to tighten the laces on my boots either, so they'd just slip off. I was to be starkers and downstairs in the room within five minutes of steppin' in the front door."
Buffy growled low in her throat. "And I'm gonna say it again. What an incredible asshole."
Spike pushed the bag out of the way and sat down carefully on the edge of the bed like he wasn't sure that he was allowed to do that. Buffy noticed the look of worry on his face and laid her hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"
He tensed and looked over at her. "Just unusual for me, is all."
Buffy looked around. "Yeah, the room is kinda weird, but we can repaint it if you want." She scooted fully back onto the bed and sat cross-legged then motioned for him to join her. "Scoot on up here and we'll talk color schemes until Mom and Dad get back with the food and then you can shower after we eat. I always sleep better if I take a really hot shower right before bed."
Spike moved tentatively up onto the bed and faced Buffy as he crossed his own legs. "It's not the room… it's… the bed. Since Mum went, the only bed I've been on is hers at hospital."
Buffy's eyes went wide. "Where have you been sleeping?"
Spike dropped his gaze to the duvet and twisted his fingers in the hem of his shirt. "The room. Da installed two more pairs of cuffs near the bottom of the post and he'd lock me into those. Sometimes he'd leave me locked to the top of the post and I'd have to try to sleep standin' up. Once, when he had to go out of town over a weekend, he restrained me in the downstairs bathtub and told Mum he'd taken me with him. I've never been so cold in my entire life."
Buffy's eyes were so wide that her eyeballs were in danger of falling right out of her head. "What about the hot water? You could've just kept running hot water into the tub… or did Mr. Incredible Asshole tell you that you couldn't?"
Spike shook his head and a sliver of anger came through in his voice. "No, he didn't tell me anythin'… he just turned off the water heater. He was nice enough to drain all the hot water from it 'fore he left as well."
Buffy closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists as she took several deep breaths. "Ok… have I mentioned the whole incredible asshole thing?" She sat for a few more minutes, taking deep, calming breaths until she no longer felt like murdering someone. When she opened her eyes, Spike was watching her with his head tilted in a way that just made him look incredibly sexy. Buffy made a quick decision and scooted close to him, getting up on her knees, then she sat carefully in his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. He was gaping at her with wide eyes as she laid her arms lightly on his shoulders and pressed her forehead to his. "Is this all right? Am I hurting you?"
His arms came up and wrapped loosely around her waist. "No… uh… you're fine."
She smiled, "Good. 'Cause I've been wanting to do this for a long time." She pressed her lips to his as she threaded her fingers into his hair. He made a tiny noise as her tongue traced the seam of his lips, begging entrance, and she pulled back. "You ok?"
He nodded dumbly and she dipped her head, nibbling on his neck just under his jaw, then licked up to his ear and sucked the lobe into her mouth, biting down gently. His arms tightened on her waist and she felt his hands sliding lightly up her back. She moved back to his lips, nibbling gently on the bottom one, then slid her tongue into his mouth when it opened with a gasp. His tongue twined with hers as they explored, both moaning quietly as they tasted each other. When air became an issue, they broke apart panting and Buffy gasped, "Wow. You're really good at that."
Spike blushed and ducked his head. "You don't have to lie to me, Buffy."
Buffy slid one hand under his chin and raised his face to hers, "I'm not lying. Why would you think that?"
Spike's face turned a deeper crimson as he stammered, "That was my first snog and it couldn't possibly have been that good… at least for you. It was wonderful for me."
Buffy smiled and pulled him into another deep, tongue tangling kiss, panting when they broke apart again. "Well, you coulda fooled me. You're a natural, Spike. A toe-curling, spine-tingling, if we were standing up my foot would be lifting off the ground, natural." The sound of the front door opening made Buffy turn and scowl at the doorway. "Damn. I wanted more Spike smoochies." She turned back to Spike and gasped at the look of wonder on his face. "Are you ok? You look… well… kinda like somebody smacked you in the back of the head with a frying pan."
Spike nodded and did a full body shiver then gave her a wide smile. "I'm bloody brilliant, kitten. Bloody brilliant."
Buffy smiled and gave him a quick smack. "Good. Food's here. Let's eat." She climbed off him and moved to the doorway then called down the stairs, "We'll be down in a minute!" She turned around to collect Spike and smacked right into his chest. She let out a small 'eep' as his arms wrapped tightly around her and he dipped his head, kissing her until they were both breathless again. She laid her head on his heaving chest until their breathing returned to normal then murmured, "Mmmm… Spike lips… Lips of Spike… God, I could get used to this."
Spike chuckled into her hair. "Me too, kitten. Me too."
She looked up at him and lifted up on her tip toes to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I like it when you call me kitten. Now let's go eat."
