Taking The Hard Way Out
PART: 4/?
AUTHOR: kira-nerys
FEEDBACK: kardasi@kardasi.com
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Buffy took the kit with the wrong hand and as she grasped the
edges, a searing pain tore through her arm and she dropped it.
Of course, it fell to the floor.
"Stupid vampire!"
She glared irritably at Spike's retreating form. Even in the
darkness of their room he looked gorgeous. He didn't turn
around, so she sat there, seething, while she waited for him to
come back.
Thankfully, he wasn't gone for long. When he returned, he had
gotten rid of the towel and was wearing a pair of black, very
tight-fitting jeans and nothing else. Barefoot even. Buffy
swallowed, her anger dissipating very quickly, and she looked
away. She had to dress her wound. .
**Concentrate, Buffy!** she told herself. **Ignore sexy vampire.
Think of pain, pain. Pain good. Spike bad.** Buffy frowned at
that thought, but decided not to examine it too closely.
She winced as she moved to retrieve the bandages from the floor.
"Can you hand me the first-aid kit?" she snarled after valiantly
trying to pick it up for several minutes, while Spike just stood
watching, arms crossed and an annoying grin on his face.
"I just gave it to you," he said conversationally.
"Yeah, well I dropped it," Buffy sneered.
"Obviously."
She just glared at him.
"Say 'pretty please'," he grinned.
Buffy tried to reach the first-aid kit again, not succeeding.
She shot him a venomous look. Unfortunately, she was in no shape
to move around. Dark spots danced before her eyes and the wound
in her arm was throbbing painfully. It wasn't like any wound
she'd ever felt before.
"Pretty please," she muttered, and fell back on the bed,
defeated.
**There has to be something wrong with me. I don't give up that
easily,** she thought.
Spike bent down, picked up the kit and threw it at her. "There
you go."
"Ouch," Buffy cried as it landed on the bed, bouncing against
her injured arm. "Watch where you throw that thing!"
"Sorry, luv," Spike said tonelessly.
"But I thought you said that you could take care of that
yourself."
**Well, I have to, don't I?** Buffy thought. This was all his
fault!
If Spike laid his hands on her she'd be fighting a losing
battle, trying to keep her hands to herself. If he didn't help
her, god only knew when she'd get her wound bandaged properly.
For a minute, she contemplated getting out of bed, to ask Willow
or Giles to help out, but she decided against it. It was dark,
and this house was about as safe and trustworthy as ... Spike!
"Just get dressed," she snarled and turned her gaze toward the
first-aid kit.
Still she couldn't help watching him from the corner of her eye.
His skin was so pale and so flawless, even more so than Angel's.
"What? You don't like what you see?" Spike said and made a
little pirouette at the foot of the bed. It should have looked
ridiculous. Only, it didn't. His muscles flexed beneath that
perfect skin and Buffy quickly started rummaging around in the
first-aid kit with her uninjured hand.
"I ain't getting dressed for bed, luv," he said when she refused
to look at him. "But if you can't keep your lovely little hands
to yourself...."
"You wish!" Buffy hissed.
If he only knew ...
Pain throbbed through her shoulder, all the way down her arm.
Typical. Where were the Slayer's healing powers when she really
needed them? She fumbled and dropped the first aid kit on the
floor for the second time. She sighed deeply.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Spike snarled and picked it up from
the floor and gave it to her again. "Can you hold onto it now?"
Then he crawled up the bed to sit beside her. He looked like a
predator closing up on its prey, the muscles of his arms
rippling enticingly as he came closer. For some strange reason
he didn't seem to realize what he looked like or how much she
enjoyed what she saw.
**You should be grateful for that, Buffy,** she told herself.
"What happened anyway? Your top is soaked with blood," Spike
said, looking at her arm closely as thought noticing it for the
first time, but that was impossible. Spike must have smelled her
blood a long time ago.
"It looks like claw marks," he said calmly.
"Well, something scratched me." Buffy admitted glumly. "I didn't
get a good look at what did it."
"Hm," Spike didn't seem too impressed with that and anger flared
inside Buffy.
"The lights blinked and it went dark. I only felt something very
cold brush past my face and then claws digging into my shoulder.
Deeply."
"How deep?" Spike asked, and sniffed the air.
"Deep enough," Buffy muttered and drew away from him. He looked
like he wanted a taste of her blood.
"Funny," Spike said and tilted his head to the side, watching
her closely. That gaze was like an almost-touch. Buffy shivered
and couldn't even look away. "I should be affected by that
scent." He sniffed again.
"And you're not?" She narrowed her eyes, looking at him, but
there was no bloodlust in his blue eyes. Not even a flicker of
gold. How odd...
"Nope," Spike insisted, and leaned forward, sniffing her like a
damn dog. It excited her, and all she really wanted to do was
lean forward and let him smell her, lick her, taste her...
He smelled nice. Very nice, in fact. Soap, and after shave and
... Buffy shook her head.
"Get away from me! I don't believe you!"
"'Course you wouldn't!" Spike snarled, as though hurt by her
suspiciousness. "I never lied to you."
"I don't care. Get away from me." Buffy insisted and tried to
sit up straighter.
He was sort of looming over her now, and it made her
uncomfortable, and made her want to give into that ... lust
inside her. But the pain in her arm prevented her from moving. A
lazy smile crossed Spike's features as though he finally noticed
what kind of an effect he was having on her.
She wanted to hit him!
"You're helpless as a kitten, pet," Spike said with false
compassion, and took the first-aid kit out of her hand.
"You can't even open that thing."
In a few seconds, Spike had gotten the bandages out, moving
toward her to take care of her arm. She tensed and stared
angrily at him, and he looked at her impatiently.
"Let me help," he said.
Buffy just kept staring at him, flabbergasted.
"Help?" she repeated dumbly. "You? Help? Me?"
"Yeah."
"Spike. You - vampire. Me - Slayer," she reminded him.
"Well, we're in this together, aren't we? I figure the chances
of getting out of here are bigger if you aren't dead," he said
coldly.
"A dislocated shoulder, and a few scratches aren't going to kill
me," Buffy scoffed.
"Maybe not, but this house seems to have a mind of its own, and
from now on, you and I work together."
"Says who?"
"Says I," Spike said and ripped her top.
"Hey!"
"Well you won't bloody well take it off, so I've no choice."
Spike didn't seem to care either way, but brought out the iodine
and some cotton.
"I've no idea what kind of nasty buggers might be in that wound.
There are a hell of a lot of strange creatures around in here. I
can sense them. Dru sensed them. Ghosts, she said."
"Ghosts?" Buffy's skin went cold. "You've got to be kidding."
"No kidding," Spike said seriously. "And there are many breeds
of ghosts, some you shouldn't ever touch. Let's get this wound
clean."
"Yeah," Buffy agreed finally. She didn't want to end up with
some gross, ghostly disease!
Spike took care of the scratches efficiently, and Buffy was
amazed at how careful he was. He didn't hurt her more than
absolutely necessary.
"Okay, all done," he said after a while and Buffy looked at the
clean bandages. They were tight enough, but not too tight. It
felt much better, cleaner, as though the iodine had gotten rid
of something nasty.
Buffy sat quiet for a while and then met his blue eyes.
"Thanks," she whispered. "Now we just have to fix my dislocated
shoulder."
"I can help you with that, too," he said. "But it'll hurt like a
bitch."
"I know. Just do it."
Buffy straightened in the bed, and Spike came closer, his arms
winding around her to get a good grip on her arm and her
shoulder.
"Brace yourself," he said, but yanked her arm before she even
had time to realize that he was ready to do it.
"Oh, fuck," she groaned.
"I'd love to, pet," he said and leaned over, placing a quick
kiss on her mouth.
Buffy was too shocked to react at first. Then the tingling
spread through her body and she shivered when their gazes met
once again.
**Damn,** she thought, knowing that her desire shone through her
eyes and that he could see it, plain as day. **He knows.**
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART: 5/?
AUTHOR: Raven
FEEDBACK: Kettlynx@aol.com
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Buffy swallowed nervously as Spike shifted closer to her. A
predatory smile flashed on his face as he watched the blatant
desire in the Slayer's eyes grow the closer he got to her. Spike
slipped his arm around Buffy's waist, pulling her close as he
slid his hand around to the front.
"Let's get you cleaned up," Spike said as he stood them up and
moved them to the bathroom. He smirked to himself when he saw
the disappointment on Buffy's face.
**Dammit, Buffy. Control yourself. You're the Slayer. He's a
vampire. An evil soulless vampire. An evil sexy soulless
vampire. Wait! Sexy? He's not that sexy. His sparkling blue eyes
DO NOT make my knees go weak. Plus, I DO NOT wanna run my hands
over his rock hard abs.** Buffy continued to mentally berate her
body's responses to Spike's nearness as Spike led her into the
bathroom.
Spike gently seated her on the lid of the toilet.
Meanwhile, Buffy had become distracted by Spike's lush lips and
all she could manage was a slight smile in response. **Ah what
the hell, you only live once..erm..twice,** she thought moments
before her lips descended on his, her fingers gliding over his
rippling stomach muscles. Buffy moaned as Spike responded by
gently cupping and caressing her breasts. She felt herself melt
into him, something that had never happened when she kissed
Angel. Surprisingly enough, it was Spike who pulled back.
"We should stop now. You're hurt," Spike said with a sexy smile
as he got up and got a damp cloth. Buffy kept smiling and
shooting glances at him as he cleaned the dried blood off her
arm.
"I'll go get you something else to wear. " Spike planted a kiss
on her forehead before he walked back into the room. He opened
the other armoire to find it full of Buffy-sized clothing.
Nothing seemed appropriate for a dislocated shoulder, though, so
he grabbed a button-up shirt and a black t-shirt from his
armoire. As he walked back into the bathroom, he smirked when he
saw a smug, partially dressed Slayer with kiss-swollen lips
waiting for him. **Never thought I'd be the one to cause the
Slayer to look like that.**
"Well, it looks like your shirt's history," Spike said with a
smile as he moved a stray curl behind Buffy's ear, before
ripping the rest of the shirt apart.
Spike couldn't help but stare at the sight before him. "You're
beautiful."
Buffy blushed at his words, pulling her ripped shirt slightly in
front of her. Spike watched, fascinated, as her blush moved up
her body to her face. He pulled her bloody shirt away as he held
up his shirt. "I thought this might be easier to put on with
your shoulder."
As she hissed in pain, Spike placed a kiss on her forehead and
whispered, "It's ok."
Dark spots flickered in Buffy's eyes as Spike gently helped her
hurt arm into the shirt. He ripped his black t-shirt into
strips, which he used to immobilize her arm against her body.
Then he carefully gathered her in his arms and laid her in the
bed. He placed a kiss on her neck before curling up next to her,
with his hand tracing patterns on her stomach.
Buffy felt very safe and content next to Spike as she drifted
off to sleep.
"Sweet dreams, luv. I'll keep you safe," Spike whispered,
nuzzling her neck.
Spike growled and tightened his arm around Buffy in his sleep as
an unseen hand touched Buffy's dislocated shoulder, taking away
the pain. The unseen hand then moved to Spike as it tried to
convey its benevolent feelings towards the couple.
Spike woke with a start. He sat up and looked around.
**Something's not right.**
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PART: 6/?
AUTHOR: Shelby
FEEDBACK: tonka_toy7@hotmail.com
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Angel snarled at the door as it shut in front of him. The broody
vampire grabbed for the doorknob so hastily, he didn't notice
its glowing red color. Angel recoiled in pain as his right hand
came in contact with the burning metal. His demon visage
surfaced briefly while his left hand held his injured hand.
"Naughty, naughty house. Mustn't hurt daddy." Scowling and
pointing her finger, Dru stared up at the ceiling, obviously
talking to someone no one else could see. Not that anyone seemed
to care. They were focused on Angel's hand and the door that was
impenetrable.
"We can't get to Buffy this way." Angel approached the door
again, this time touching the heavy oak surface. Swirls of color
surrounded his hand; Angel pressed his hand deeper into the tiny
vortex. A brief image of Buffy sleeping appeared, and the vortex
disappeared, before a violent wind swept him off his feet and
onto his rear.
Xander laughed and snorted. "You fell on your butt!"
Dru clutched her prized doll close to her chest, a panicked,
daydreamy look in her eyes. "This is not the picnic I was
planning for."
Giles rubbed his creased brow in aggravation. "I suggest we all
try to get some sleep. Nothing we do tonight is going to help.
This house apparently has a mind of its own."
Willow held tight to Oz's hand. "Buffy's going to be fine in
there, isn't she? With Spike... and well, Spike." There was an
uneasy tone to her voice. Oz wrapped a reassuring arm around her
shoulders.
Xander huffed. "It's just a trick, right? That's not really
what's going on in there. I'm sure Spike is on the floor and
Buffy is awake on the bed. There is no way she'd sleep with
Spike in the same room as her." His eyes darted to the door,
where he'd seen a brief image of Buffy, with Spike curled around
her, sleeping peacefully. He had almost gasped, then shook his
head. It couldn't be true. He'd tell Cordy about it in the room
and see what she thought.
Angel glared heavily at Xander as he brushed past him on the way
to his room. Drusilla followed Angel closely in a swaying
motion. "Night, night, sleep tight; be careful dancing with the
ghosts tonight." Drusilla's words hung in a taunting melody as
they drifted back to the Scoobies, who were now dissipating to
their rooms.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "That woman has serious issues. Have
you seen her dress? It's so out of date."
"Right. And her style of dress is the worst we have to deal
with, right, Cordy?" Xander ushered his girlfriend inside their
room, waving quickly to Willow and Oz. Giles watched as each of
the doors shut before going to his own room.
***
Buffy murmured a protest in her sleep when Spike moved. "No,
don't move. I'm warm," she muttered, before drifting back to a
comfortable slumber.
Spike tried as best as he could to accommodate her request.
However, whether he moved or not, Buffy was in for a lesson on
the difference between men and women. He settled for a closer
nuzzle against her small body, praying she was too asleep to
notice.
"Who's there?" he demanded suddenly, the hackles on his neck
rising. No response. Just a thick silence lingering in the air.
Spike's eyes darted around relentlessly for something, anything
that would indicate who or what was in the room. He found
himself frustrated because he couldn't see anything. **Stupid
vampiric senses are off too, aren't they?**
He was ready to give up and pass it off as his imagination,
until he felt the wispy touch of air brushing over his bare
chest. Moments later, the image of a woman in white, billowy
lace appeared at the foot of the large bed. A hazy cloud of
violet surrounded her, while her white, brilliant hair fluttered
around her waist in a delicate wind that seemed to only affect
her. The lace of her dress flowed out from under her legs,
making it apparent she was suspended above the hardwood floors.
"What the bloody hell?" Spike asked in a whisper.
The ghost brought a finger to her mouth as if to silence him.
"Protect her."
"Not bloody likely. It's not my job to protect her; it's the
Poof's. I kill her kind," Spike answered with a cocky grin. All
for show, and he knew it. **Can't let them know I actually fancy
the bint.**
The woman shook her head side to side. "Protect her, Spike. For
the sake of all you hold dear." She vanished, leaving nothing in
her wake but a very confused vampire.
Buffy raised her head. She looked up at Spike with sleep-filled
eyes and asked, "Who was that?"
Spike wrapped his arms around her a little tighter, placed a
light kiss on the top of her head, and whispered in her ear, "No
one, pet. Sleep now."
Parts 7-9: Julia, Suaine & Diurnal