Chapter Ten – Lucky Bastard

He was watching her sleep again. She looked a little uncomfortable curled up in the chair next to his bed with a thin blanket pulled up to her chin, but she'd refused to leave him alone.

She'd brought his re-heated dinner of thin vegetable soup with crackers, buttered bread, and some Jell-O – only blushing… a lot… when he'd stared at it wobbling in its dish. She'd muttered something about Jell-O being part of a bland diet then had thrust an ice pack at him for his sore, throbbing bits. He'd placed the ice pack then had wolfed down his food, groaning in pleasure… mostly from having a meal that actually had flavor and partly from the relief the ice pack brought to his nether region. The ice pack had made him a feel a little chilly, but her smile as she'd watched him eat had warmed him more effectively than the lukewarm soup even had a chance to.

After he'd finished his food, there had been a brief moment of embarrassment when he'd told her that he had to relieve himself but didn't think he could make the walk to the toilet. She'd given him a portable urinal then had left the room, letting him complete his business in private. His cheeks had flushed bright red when she'd returned and taken the half-full container from him then disappeared into the bathroom.

She'd smiled warmly at him when she'd come out and injected another dose of morphine into his IV. He'd tried to convince her to go to her own bed and get some sleep – that he'd be knocked out and wouldn't know he was alone anyway – but she'd refused, telling him that she'd rather be with him.

They hadn't talked much, except for necessary exchanges, but they'd looked. A lot. Their eyes had been practically glued to each other until the morphine had kicked in and Spike had finally nodded off. There were no furtive glances or shy batting of the eyelashes; it was full on devouring – eyes raking over every inch of the other's form – caressing and memorizing every dip, every curve. Spike had thought it was bloody amazing. He could feel her gaze crawling all over him as if she were actually touching him and he'd never felt so… wanted.

He'd been watching her for some time now, and he'd be completely content to continue to watch, but his bladder was having other ideas. It had been steadily getting more insistent and was just this side of screaming when he finally gave in and cleared his throat. "Buffy? I'm sorry to wake you, pet, but I'm 'bout to do somethin' that hasn't happened since I was three if I don't get to the loo in the next few minutes."

She stirred slightly and mumbled, "Five more minutes, Michelle, class doesn't start 'till nine."

Spike chuckled. "Not Michelle, luv, and I don't think I've got five minutes."

Buffy's eyes opened slowly and she yawned widely as she sat up, the blanket sliding down to pool around her waist. She stretched her arms over her head, making her scrub shirt pull up to expose a wide strip of her belly. Spike's eyes traced over the patch of tanned skin and he gasped as a glint of metal caught his eye. 'She's got her belly button pierced.' If he didn't have to pee so badly, he'd be having another problem right about now. 'Wonder what else she has pierced?'

He shifted uncomfortably and pressed his hand into his bladder. His voice was strained when he said, "Buffy? I'm kind of movin' into dangerous territory here and I'm gonna make a hell of a mess if I don't go right now."

She jumped out of the chair, suddenly fully awake. "Oh! Hold on… I'll be right back." She dashed into the bathroom and returned with the portable urinal. "Here… I'll go… uh… do something else. Just hit the call button when you're done."

He nodded as she bolted from the room, quickly pulling the door shut behind her. He groaned loudly as he started to fill the container then worriedly wondered if it was big enough. The fluid level was steadily rising and he didn't seem to be slowing down. 'Oh… bloody hell.' He breathed a sigh of relief as he started to taper off then finished up with two inches or so of empty space left at the top. He snapped the cover on and gingerly set the container on the table next to the bed then reached for the call button.

His door opened before he could press the button, but it wasn't Buffy who walked through. It was Xander, carrying a breakfast tray. "Morning, Mr. Raccoon."

Spike grinned. "Raccoon?"

Xander smirked. "Yeah. You have two black eyes, so… raccoon. At least I didn't call you a trash panda, which I completely could have because you still look like we pulled you out of a dumpster… that had been run over by a tank after being dropped off a building." He motioned toward Spike's ribs. "How are you feeling?"

"I may not look it, but I feel better. Not as much pain as yesterday." He nodded toward the container on the table. "You here to play nurse? That needs to be emptied."

Xander laughed, "Ha ha ha… no. I'll just let Buff handle that, thanks. That's why she makes the big bucks, Spikey." He set the tray down on the rolling table and waited until Spike had raised the head of his bed then pushed the table so it sat above his lap. "Bon appétit. Buffy said you need to eat everything, so get to it. Don't want her mad at me."

Spike chuckled as he lifted the cover off his tray. "Where is she?"

Xander dropped down into the chair next to the bed, pushing the blanket off onto the floor. "She's in her room doing whatever it is women do in the morning. Wils won't even let me in the bathroom until she's done, and I really don't want to know anyway. There's probably shaving or plucking or something." He shuddered.

Spike leaned over and sniffed deeply, the scent of crispy, delicious bacon settling over him like a warm blanket. "Real food? What happened to the bland diet or whatever?"

Xander shrugged. "No idea. That's what the kitchen lady handed me, so that's what you get. You might want to eat up in case it's a mistake and there's actually a bowl of chicken broth with your name on it waiting down in the dining hall."

Spike hastily picked up a piece of bacon and stuffed it into his mouth then he cut up his omelet and buttered his toast. He looked over his tray and frowned. "No jam?"

Xander grinned and dug in his pocket then tossed something at Spike. "I… uh… found this… but you can have it."

Spike picked up the tiny plastic container and smiled at the picture of strawberries on the lid. "You found strawberry jam? Where?"

Xander blushed. "In a bin in the dining hall. They make good little pick me up snacks when I start getting sleepy toward the end of my shift. Watching you guys dink around the common room or pull weeds in the gardens isn't as exciting as you might think."

Spike smiled and spread the jam on his toast then dumped three packets of sugar into his cup of coffee and took a long drink. "God, that's brilliant. Haven't had coffee since they dragged me down to the hole."

"Thought you limey bastards drank tea and hated coffee."

Spike smirked. "Some do, but do you see any Earl Grey anywhere around here? Hmmm? Sometimes you have to make do with what you've got." He chuckled. "You damned yank."

Xander noticed the bandage around Spike's wrist and frowned as he nodded at it. "What's with the bandage? You didn't try to do something incredibly stupid that's gonna force me to smack you upside the head, did you?"

Spike shook his head as he stuffed a huge bite of omelet into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed then said, "No. Finn paid a visit last night and cuffed me to the bed." He reached down and rattled the cuff still hanging from the rail. "Buffy picked it with the lock picking kit she smuggled in, which you don't know anything about, by the way."

Xander blinked. "Buffy brought a lock picking kit into a prison?"

Spike laughed. "That's what I said."

Xander shook his head with a laugh, "She really doesn't get the whole prison thing, does she?" He motioned to the bandage again. "Still doesn't explain the bandage."

"The bandage is there so when the git comes back this morning, he'll think I was cuffed all night and you unlocked me when you got here. Probably would've lost my bloody hand if I'd worn it all night. He had the cuff on me tight enough to leave a mark even in the short amount of time I had it on." Spike looked over at Xander with a delighted smirk. "Buffy picked the cuff right after she kicked him in the goolies and sent him packing."

Xander smiled. "Buffy nutted Finn? Why? Well, I know why… but… why?"

Spike grinned around a bite of toast. "He didn't believe her about the black belt she can kick his arse bit, so they had a quick scrap and she roughed him up. Nose, nuts, wrist. Wouldn't be surprised if the tosser has two black eyes today, and I didn't know a person's arm could twist that far up their back." He chuckled with a sparkle in his eyes. "Learn somethin' new every day."

Xander barked laughter. "Wish I could've seen that. Did he even manage to lay a hand on her?"

Spike shook his head. "Nope. Never even came close. Bird's like poetry in motion… never seen anythin' so beautiful."

"Beautiful, huh?" Spike blushed and concentrated on his tray and Xander leaned forward to touch him lightly on the arm. "It's okay, Spike. I know how you feel about her. Kinda hard to miss."

Spike mumbled around another piece of bacon. "She told me she likes me…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "And she kissed me." He glanced up at Xander. "Just on the ear… but…"

Xander leaned back and clapped his hands together. "You are the man! You've got a naughty nurse all set to give you sponge baths and maybe other things. You lucky bastard… that's just not fair…" He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the chair. "Maybe I could get Wils to wear a nurse outfit for me after she has the baby."

Spike made a noise that was halfway between a squeak and a squawk. "Xander! Bloody hell… don't talk 'bout her that way!"

Xander cracked an eye and smirked up at Spike. "Why not? She's my wife."

Spike glared at him. "Not Willow, you berk, Buffy. She's a decent girl and I won't have you sullying her good name! Not to mention that she could get sacked if anybody finds out!"

Xander contritely held up his hands. "Sorry, Spike."

Buffy breezed into the room wearing a wide smile. "What are you sorry about, Xander?"

Xander glanced at Spike then smiled at Buffy. "Oh… uh… I got him strawberry jam instead of grape jelly. He's pretty pissy about it, actually."

Spike shot another glare at Xander then motioned to his tray. "You meant for me to have this, right? I don't have some other bloke's breakfast?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, that's yours. I called down last night after you fell asleep. With the way you mowed through your dinner, I decided you were ready for solid food. We need to get some meat on your bones, and soup and Jell-O just isn't going to cut it." She blushed as she remembered telling him about her Jell-O-y knees then smiled at his matching blush. She snagged the urinal off the table and ducked into the bathroom, her heart going a mile a minute in her chest.

Xander grinned knowingly at all the blushing and leaned back, lacing his fingers together on his belly. "Lucky bastard."

XXXX

When the door had closed behind Xander, Buffy walked over to the bed and pressed her wrist to Spike's forehead. "You look a little flushed. How do you feel?"

He shrugged. "Feel all right, I guess. Not much pain unless I try to move too fast."

"You still look like you should be in agony, Spike. You're so bruised."

Spike chuckled, "Xan said I still look like you dragged me out of a dumpster."

"He's not wrong." She brushed her fingertips gently against the hand shaped bruise on his throat. "Your throat doesn't hurt?"

"It's a bit sore, I suppose, but I don't really notice it unless I'm concentrating on it." He lifted a hand and laid it on his ribcage over one of the darkest bruises. "This is the spot that's botherin' me the most."

"Yeah, he was wearing steel toed boots, the sadistic fuck." Buffy reached for his hand and lifted it, looking it over. "You have beautiful hands, Spike. Why didn't you fight back when Riley attacked you? He has horrible technique and might as well be yelling every move he's about to make through a bullhorn, he telegraphs so bad."

Spike quirked an eyebrow even as he smirked slightly at the memory of Buffy's nurse shoe connecting with Riley's groin. "How'd you know I didn't fight back?"

She lifted his hand and gently brushed her fingertips over his unmarked knuckles. "Your hands. There's no bruises or scrapes or anything. No defensive wounds."

Spike looked down at his hand, clasped gently in hers, and mumbled, "Couldn't, pet. Attackin' a guard is a sure-fire way to get more time added to my sentence and I'm so close to gettin' out of here, I couldn't risk it." He looked away. "You probably think I'm a coward, just lettin' him beat on me."

Buffy shook her head as she squeezed his hand. "No, I don't think you're a coward, Spike. You do what you have to do to survive. That's brave… not cowardly. And out of everyone I've ever met, I think you're one of the strongest. Not many could take a beating like this and live to tell about it."

He looked up at her for a second then looked down at his lap. "I'm not strong, pet, I've just had years of practice in takin' a beatin'. Finn's an amateur, believe me. My father was the master."

Buffy sat down on the bed next to Spike's hip then turned so that her leg was up on the bed, her thigh lying along Spike's side. She draped his arm around her leg and laid their still joined hands gently on his belly then asked softly, "You want to talk about it?"