Chapter Seven - Postponed

Spike was still lying flat on his back on the x-ray table, having been told not to move until Buffy gave the okay. "Bloody hell, what's takin' so long?"

She smirked at his petulant tone as she glanced over her shoulder then turned back to the x-rays she was looking at. "Shut up, Spike. You want me to be sure, don't you?" She leaned close; looking over every rib, then switched off the light and turned around. "They're just cracked, not broken. I don't even need to wrap them; you should heal fine without it."

Spike started to sit up and Buffy rushed to his side, gently pressing his shoulders back onto the table. "No. You don't move without help. Just stay there and I'll get Xander."

Spike groaned as she started for the door, "I've had worse than this, pet. Still managed to take care of myself." He closed his eyes and said so quietly that Buffy almost didn't hear it. "Never had anybody to help me before."

Buffy stopped and whispered over her shoulder, "Well, you do now." She stepped through the door and headed down the hall to Spike's room. Xander had moved a different bed into it and had made it up with fresh sheets and blankets. He was fluffing the pillow when she walked in. "What's his story?"

Xander looked up. "Spike's?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "No, the Dalai Lama. Yes, Spike. I saw healed injuries on his x-rays dating back years. Some of them didn't heal properly, which means he didn't get medical treatment. Did all that happen here?"

Xander shook his head and dropped down into the chair next to the bed. "No. Spike had… uh… a rough childhood. His father…"

Buffy blanched and said in a strangled whisper, "Beat him. A lot, by the looks of it."

Xander nodded. "Yeah. It started when he was eleven or so. He lived with his mom in London, and when she died, he got shipped off to the States to live with a father he'd never met. His dad didn't take too kindly to suddenly being saddled with a kid, and when he wasn't pummeling Spike, he ignored him, so Spike basically raised himself. He got himself through school… he's really smart… graduated top of his class… but then he fell in with a bad crowd and they did some stuff and he ended up here. He's been here six years, got here two months after his eighteenth birthday. He hasn't had any problems at all in here, except the swirly thing. Told me once that being here is the happiest he's been since his mom died."

Buffy blinked rapidly, trying not to let the tears fall. "Jesus… and then this happens."

Xander sighed. "Yeah. Spike's strong, though, Buffy. He'll be okay."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Let's get him clean. His ribs are cracked, but if we're careful, we should be able to do that without causing him too much pain."

She walked into the x-ray room and darted forward just in time to keep Spike from pitching forward onto his face as he tried to get up from the x-ray table. She stood in front of him and wrapped her arms around his middle, trying not to squeeze too hard as he regained his balance. He sat back down on the table behind him, panting from the pain, and she let him go. She backed up a step and wagged an accusing finger at him, the better to scold him with, and he looked up with a smirk. "No need, luv. I'm a bad, rude man, I know."

She smiled in spite of herself. 'He's just too adorable.' She screwed her face back into a scowl. 'Adorable?' She shook her head slightly. 'He's a patient; therefore, he's not allowed to be adorable. Get it together, Buffy.' She wagged that finger at him. "Uh-uh, Mister Man. You're not getting out of it that easy. I told you to wait. You could have really hurt yourself!"

Xander chuckled as he stepped up next to Spike and helped him into a wheelchair. "Uh-oh. Looks like Spikey's in trouble. Better watch out for this one, man. She'll kick your ass… worse than it's already been kicked."

Spike chuckled then winced and wrapped an arm around his middle as Xander pushed him out of the room. "Yeah… I'd guessed as much. You should've heard her threatenin' that monstrous git. Said she'd wipe the floor with him."

Xander smirked over his shoulder at Buffy then leaned down to whisper in Spike's ear. "Third degree black belt, man. She put a linebacker in the hospital."

Spike's eyes were wide when they entered the shower room and he watched Buffy warily as she gathered towels and a hospital gown, draping them over the low wall separating the shower from the rest of the room. She placed a white plastic shower stool in the stall then slipped off her lab coat and draped it over the wall next to the gown. She turned to Spike and smiled. "I know I promised you a bath, but a shower is logistically easier on all of us."

Spike shot Xander a worried glance as he was helped to his feet. Xander helped him limp to the stool and got him sat down then turned to the shower controls. He took down the handheld sprayer and pointed it away from Spike as he turned on the water and adjusted the water temperature. Buffy stepped up behind Spike holding a bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, and two washcloths. Spike slowly reached up to take them from her, trying to hide the pain the movement caused. "Ta, luv. I'll call out when I'm finished, yeah?"

She smiled as she deposited the items on a shelf above Spike's head. "You won't have to, 'cause I'm not leaving. It's my responsibility to take care of you, and you're in no shape to do it yourself."

Spike's mouth fell open in shock and he was about to protest… loudly… when Xander chuckled. "Black belt, man. Linebacker. Besides, she's just as stubborn as you are. Probably more."

Spike dropped his head, sighing in defeat as he suddenly decided that he was in too much pain to argue with the tiny woman. "Fine." He picked at the dirty, orange pants he was wearing as the reality of the situation suddenly became glaringly apparent. His hand curled into a fist as he silently cursed his luck. 'First bird to ever see me starkers and it's gotta be like this… when I'm half-starved and beaten half to death. Bloody hell… doesn't help that she's the most stunningly beautiful woman I've ever clapped eyes on.' His inner movie reel suddenly rewound to its very first image of Buffy. She was standing over him, the light above her and slightly to the side framing her hair and making it glow like a soft golden halo. Her hazel-green eyes were wide and sparkling as she gazed down at him with a look of genuine concern.

His imagination, which was in fine working order even though the rest of him had been beaten into hamburger, gleefully took that image of Buffy and ran with it, molding and shaping as it went. It tossed out a new image of a soaking wet Buffy wearing nothing but a tight, white t-shirt, and he glanced down at his crotch, wincing at the sudden painful throbbing that started up in his punted bits as they tried to stir in response. 'Fucker just had to kick me, didn't he? Won't even be able to have a proper wank later… hurts too bloody much.' His brain apparently hadn't gotten that memo, though, because images of Buffy in various states of undress continued to parade across his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the pain instead of the small woman with the bouncing shampoo-commercial hair, but the sound of running water started up a rather vivid fantasy of a naked Buffy lying next to a small stream, sunlight dappling her smooth, tanned skin as she slowly slid her hands…

Buffy laid her hand on his shoulder, startling him out of his lecherous thoughts. He kept his head down, turning it slightly away as he blushed furiously; sure that she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. 'Like she'd ever let me anywhere near her. Not like that, anyway. I'm a convict, and she's so far out of my league that she might as well be on the bleedin' moon. Besides, when she hears what I've done… the things that have been done to me… I'll be lucky if she'll even still look at me.'

Buffy frowned when Spike turned his head away instead of looking up at her. 'He looks really embarrassed. I wonder if I should ask Xander to leave.' She shook her head. 'No. It's probably not Xander he's worried about, but I can't leave. I need to be here.' She looked him over, trying to see the man under all the bruises and grime. 'He's really good looking, so he shouldn't be embarrassed about being seen naked. And he's older than I am, so he's got to have some kind of experience in this area.' She took in the hunched posture that had to be really painful with cracked ribs, and the way he was ducking his head so she couldn't see his face. 'He looks like he's really shy. Maybe he doesn't have much experience with being naked in front of other people.' She leaned down into his field of vision and reached out to turn his head gently toward her. "Spike? We're going to start now. We'll leave your pants on until we've got your top half clean, okay? And we'll try to make this quick. I know you're in pain and just want to get back to bed so I can get some good drugs into you."

Spike nodded mutely, feeling somewhat relieved at not having to be naked for the entire production, then he tried to sit up a little straighter, tipping his head back to keep the water out of his eyes as Xander started hosing him down. He heard the snick of the shampoo bottle being opened then the smell of lavender assaulted his nostrils as Buffy's fingers worked the shampoo into his long hair. He wrinkled his nose, shaking off shy William and slipping easily into the Spike persona he'd adopted early on in his miserable life to hide his vulnerability. "What is that? Some kind of girly shampoo?"

Buffy giggled. "I guess. It's mine. Don't you like it?"

He smiled slightly. "Smells like flowers. Not really a flowers kind of bloke, luv." Spike was in heaven as she scratched her nails gently over his scalp, mostly avoiding the painful lumps on the back of his head.

Buffy smiled as Spike's shoulders relaxed more and more the longer she scrubbed his scalp. "It's lavender. It'll help relax you so you'll sleep better… at least that's what the bottle says."

She took the sprayer from Xander and gently worked the bubbles and foam out of Spike's hair while Xander soaped up the washcloth he'd already soaked. "Uh… you want me to wash him or do you want to?"

Buffy handed the sprayer back and took the washcloth. "I will. I need to do a full exam anyway and this will kind of kill two birds with one stone."

Xander gave her a relieved smile. "Oh, good." Spike scowled at him and Xander chuckled. "It's not that I don't like you, Spike, just not comfortable running my hands all over another guy, especially a half-naked wet one. Nothing personal."

Buffy chuckled as she gently washed Spike's face, taking special care to keep the soap out of his eyes, and prodded gently at his nose. "Your nose should heal all right. It's not bent or anything." She thoroughly cleaned his ears then moved the cloth to his neck. "Did Riley choke you? You've got bruises in the shape of a hand around your neck."

Spike nodded. "Yeah." She gave a curt, angry nod and continued scrubbing, gasping or frowning as each bruise, cut, and scrape was revealed.

Now Spike was in hell. Even with as much pain as he was in, it was all he could do to keep from moaning as her small hands covered every inch of his torso and arms, soaping and rinsing then prodding gently. No one in his entire existence had ever touched him like this. He knew it was clinical on her part – she was just doing her job – at least that's what he kept telling himself, but the part of his anatomy currently in control wasn't buying it. Her fingertips brushed across his nipple and he drew in a quick breath as a bolt of pleasure shot through him, but the small noise he made was covered by the sound of the shower beating on the wall. He hoped. Buffy just continued washing him, so hopefully she hadn't heard it.

Buffy was in her own hell. She slid her hands over the smooth skin of his back, feeling the hardness and strength of the muscles underneath. She noticed – boy did she notice – his finely sculpted chest and lean, but well-muscled arms and stomach as the soapy water sluiced over him. 'God, he's beautiful… even covered in bruises.' He made a small noise when she slid her fingers over his nipple and there was a sudden burst of dampness in her panties. She moved on quickly, silently chastising herself. 'Bad Buffy! God, hasn't he been through enough? He doesn't need to be molested by someone who's supposed to be taking care of him!' Her eyes caught on a ribbon of soap suds that were sliding slowly down his rippled stomach, and she suppressed a shiver as they caught in the fine, light-brown pleasure trail that disappeared into his pants.

She straightened up quickly and laid the washcloth over a handrail bolted to the wall. "Okay. Now we need to get you on your feet so we can get those pants off and wash the rest of you."

Spike looked up at her with a deer in the headlights expression and clutched at the legs of his pants, bunching the fabric in his fists. Actually, Spike had suddenly left the building and now William – sweet, shy William – was sitting in a prison infirmary shower wearing nothing but a pair of soaking wet pants, said pants about to be removed by a beautiful woman.

Spike would've scoffed and made snide remarks like 'watch the merchandise' or 'see something you like, pet?' But William just trembled and wished the floor would suddenly open and swallow him whole. He clenched his fists tighter, wondering why Spike would pick now to abandon him when William had counted on him, depended on his strength, his bluster and swagger, and his damn-it-all attitude for years. William would've packed it in years ago, given up completely and just let his father finally beat him to death, but some small part of his psyche that refused to give in had stepped to the fore and, naming itself Spike, had taken over. Now though, Spike, for whatever reason, had decided to tuck himself away, leaving a terrified and extremely embarrassed William to fend for himself.

Buffy moved around in front of him and squatted down, placing her hands lightly on his. "It's okay, Spike. I know this is weird for you, but you don't have to be embarrassed. Really. I'm a nurse, and I'm sure you don't have anything I haven't seen before."

William ducked his head, letting his dripping hair cover his face as he whispered, "Might be old hat for you, but not for me."

"What?"

He closed his eyes altogether and forced the words from his lips. "I've not been starkers in front of a woman, not since I was small."

Buffy was shocked, but she tried not to show it as she lightly squeezed his hands. "Oh. Well, that's not all that uncommon. A lot of men prefer a male doctor. It's understandable. And if you're not interested in women, then there would be no need for you to be naked in front of one."

His head dropped even lower, his cheeks flaming. "I like birds, 'm not a poof."

Buffy's face screwed up in confusion and she glanced up at Xander who was standing in the corner of the shower, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible while holding a flowing shower head. He silently mouthed, "He likes girls and he's not gay."

Buffy nodded and looked back at Spike, rubbing her thumbs along his wrists as she whispered, "So you've never…"

He shook his head in disgust. "No. I've never willingly shagged anybody. Nobody I've ever wanted has wanted me. Been forced a few times, but I don't think that counts, so for all intents and purposes… yeah, I'm a virgin." He turned his head, embarrassed beyond all measure. "I'm pathetic, I know, so can we just get this over with? Please?"

Buffy's hands tightened on his as she shook her head. "You're not pathetic and you have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about." She got to her feet and moved behind him then picked up the soapy washcloth and pressed it into his right hand. "I'll stand back here and I promise not to look, okay?" She picked up the dry washcloth from the shelf and held it out so that Spike could see it. "You just wash up and when you're done, you can sit back down and cover yourself with this cloth. Then I'll clean and examine your legs. All right?"

Spike nodded and whispered, "Ta." He wrapped his arm over Xander's shoulders when Xander leaned down then winced and hissed in pain as he was helped to his feet. Buffy turned her back as Spike, leaning heavily against Xander, tried to push his filthy pants down over his hips, but the wet cloth was sticking to him and he couldn't manage it one-handed. "Bollocks. They're stuck."

Xander, who'd been staring at the corner and finding the tile there extremely interesting, glanced at Spike out of the corner of his eye. He could probably help, but then he'd have to change his stance, which would unbalance Spike and they'd probably both go down. "Uh… Buffy?"

She didn't turn around. "Yes?"

"Spike's pants are stuck."

She laid the washcloth over the handrail. "Okay. I'll help." She turned around and looked at Spike's Technicolor back, wincing again at all the bruising, and then walked around to stand in front of him. "Okay. I'm going to slide them down at least as far as your knees. We'll get them the rest of the way off after you sit down."

"Okay."

She glanced quickly at the front of Spike's pants as she squatted in front of him. "These don't have buttons or a string or anything that needs to be undone, do they? I haven't really looked at them very close."

Xander shook his head. "No, they're elastic waist. You should be able to just pull them off."

Buffy nodded and settled her hands low on the front of Spike's thighs, trying to keep them away from his crotch area so she didn't freak him out. She gripped the sodden fabric tight in her fists. "Okay, I'm going to close my eyes and here we go."

She started tugging and Spike jerked, dropping the washcloth to the floor with a wet plop. "Hold on a mo' 'fore you keep yankin'." He slid his thumb under the waistband and stretched it away from his stomach a few inches. "All right. Now."

Buffy pulled on the pants, but they didn't budge. "Not working. Looks like I'll have to kind of peel them off you. If I'd had my brain turned on, we would've taken them off when they were still dry and just used a towel or something. I'm sorry, Spike. You can sue me for malpractice if we ever get you out of the shower." With her eyes still closed, she started sliding her hands up Spike's thighs, headed for the waistband, then stopped when he yelped. She pulled her hands back quickly then opened her eyes and looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

Her hand had bumped against him. Not hard, but with the state his bits were in, it hurt. A lot. He took a few deep breaths, waiting for the pain to subside somewhat then said in a quiet voice. "Bits are sore. You bumped 'em."

"Sore? Why are they sore?"

"Wanker kicked me. Twice while I was awake… probably more after I'd passed out. I'm not sure, I just know it hurts."

She dropped her hands and got to her feet. "I'm sorry, Spike, but I'm going to have to examine you. I need to find out if there's any permanent damage."

He closed his eyes and dropped his head. "Yeah, I'd figured as much. Go ahead." He chuckled bitterly, "Not like I could stop you anyway." His voice dropped to a whisper, "Never been able to stop anybody."

Buffy, who had been reaching for Spike's pants, stopped and redirected her hand, laying it gently on his arm. "Did he… uh… did Riley… force you?"

Spike squeezed his eyes shut tighter then nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yeah."

Buffy glanced over at Xander. His expression was thunderous, and he looked like he could gleefully murder someone as he clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the shower head. Buffy clenched her own jaw as she warred with herself. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around Spike and just hold him, try to soothe away some of his pain, but the rest of her wanted to find Riley and beat him to within an inch of his life. With a bat. She closed her eyes and forced the rage back, not far, but just far enough that she could concentrate on the man standing in front of her trembling in pain, embarrassment, and fear. "Spike, I need to examine you. If you've been… forced… there could be internal damage."

He shook his head. "Git didn't bugger me… just made me suck him off." His bitter chuckle echoed around the small room. "Gave me choices, he did, and I chose the option I thought would hurt less. Turns out it didn't matter. Gonna get buggered anyway… all's I did was postpone the inevitable. Wish he'd just killed me."