full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
Running from the Inevitable by The Enemy of Reality
 
Chapter five
 
<<     >>
 
A/N: I should be writing analysis that I have to hand in at uni tomorrow. Instead I'm updating and eagerly awaiting your response. Go figure. You better enjoy! ;)

All4Spike and BloodyHell beta'd this. Why, you ask? Simple. Because they rock.


Chapter 5


His feet hurt like hell. It felt as though he’d been carrying her for miles. Only three cars had passed them by in the last hour without stopping. Not that he blamed them.


“I can walk, you know,” she remarked.


“No, you can’t, Slayer. Last time you tried, you fell right on your arse.”


“I slipped!”


Spike sighed and let her down for what seemed like the tenth time. Her stubborn streak was slowly but steadily getting stale. And as predicted, as soon as her feet hit the road, she swayed and clutched at his shoulder in order to stay on her feet.


He didn’t even bother telling her ‘told you so’.


“Okay, so maybe I’m a teensy bit nauseous,” she finally admitted.


“Teensy? You look about ready to drop. And you know what? I’m bloody tired of your squabbling, so you either let me carry your annoying little self or I leave you here. And believe me, with the way you stink to high heavens, it’s just a matter of question when some wild bear sniffs you out and makes you his dinner.”


“I stink?” she asked in a small voice.


In the most bitable way. Not that he’d tell her that. “Oh, for the love of…”


He picked her up again, noting she was probably too tired to argue anymore when she let him. Not for the first time, Spike wondered why he didn’t just dump the Slayer on the side of the road and bugger off. His unlife would be so much easier if he stopped going all soft on her. He had even lent her his coat so she wouldn’t get too cold. His coat!


Then again, she’d owe him one and he planned on juicing that for all he was worth. Maybe he’d make her provide him with life-long—hers not his—supply of smokes.


“So what did you dream of being when you were all bite sized?”


“What? Why would you even want to know?”


“Just answer the question, would you? I’m bored and if talking to you distracts me from it at least for a few minutes, I’m all for it. Now tell me.”


“Okay.” Buffy blinked. “A ballerina. Always loved the fluffy pink skirts they wore. For a bit I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher. And an ice skater. That one lasted pretty long. And I must have hit my head pretty hard since I’m telling you this.”


He loved the way her breath tickled his neck even if she was kind of insulting him. He chose to ignore the last comment for the sake of tentative camaraderie. “Suits you. Not that I know you all that well, but it goes with the whole girly thing you’ve got going on.”


“You think I’m girly?’


“Well, yeah. Pretty sure none of the Slayers before you wore skirts that short or hunted in heels.”


“I don’t hunt. I patrol. And what’s wrong with my skirts?”


“Absolutely nothing,” Spike said with a happy sigh. He really liked it when she did those high kicks in them. Left little to the imagination. How many times had she gotten close to staking him because he got sidetracked?


“Stop leering.”


“Sorry, couldn’t help it. Happy memories and all that.”


Buffy’s eyes starting to droop again. “I’m tired.”


Didn’t they say victims of concussion shouldn’t doze off?


“You fall asleep and I’m dumping you on the ground.”


Her eyes shot open. “You wouldn’t!”


“Is that right? Don’t get too comfy, Slayer. I’m a vampire. Grrr!”


“Then why haven’t you bitten me yet? It’s not like you didn’t have the chance when I was unconscious.”


Spike shrugged and tightened his hold on her. “Don’t want a pity kill. I want you to fight me. No fun otherwise.”


“You’re strange.”


Spike raised his chin and sniffed haughtily. “No, I’m a rebel.”


“You sure are. And it might be my concussion talking but I think I see a gas station.”


Spike peered into the darkness and sure enough, there were lights in the distance signaling civilization still existed after all.


********


Sneaking into the blood bank didn’t prove to be that difficult. After much protest, Buffy was finally being treated by a doctor. All the exertion made him ravenous for some good old plasma, especially after the unsatisfying meal the receptionist unwillingly donated. Better a few gulps than nothing at all, he reckoned. Since he was already here, he might as well take advantage. What better place to nick blood than a hospital? No way was he feeding off all those diseased people smelling like depression and disinfectants. And the nurse scowling at him in disapproval sure didn’t whet his appetite for the hunt either.


After drinking down a couple of plasma bags and cleaning the wound on his forehead, Spike managed to sneak past reception, and headed to the Slayer’s room. Just to get his duster back before he high tailed it out of there. That was the plan. Forget her help with the Amazon chicks. She had already made it clear she wanted to go home as soon as she could.


A silly grin stretched across Buffy’s face as she spotted him standing morosely in the doorway.


“It’s Spike,” she whispered with a giggle to the nurse examining her. “He’s a vampire.”


Spike’s eyes darted to the nurse before he scowled at Buffy. “Right funny you are, Sl-... Buffy. How’s the head?”


The nurse turned her attention to him. “You shouldn’t be here, Sir. It’s past visiting hours.”


He sauntered closer and fixed her with a seductive look. “Come on, pet. I’ll be just a while and then I’m off. Just making sure she’s all right.”


The nurse darted a glance between Buffy and him, biting her lip. “Are you family?”


He nodded, knowing he’d already won her over. “She’s my little sis.” Pressing his hand to the side of his mouth, he whispered, “She’s adopted.”


“Okay, you can stay. But only for a little while. I’m going to see more patients but I might come by to check on her later.” She turned to go.


“Wait.” He saw her glance over her shoulder with an expectant expression. “How’s she?”


The nurse smiled. “She had a mild concussion. She’ll be fine in a few hours, don’t worry. I just gave her some medication so she’ll be a bit out of it for the time being.”


Don’t worry? He wasn’t worried at all. “Good. Cheers.”


Spike watched the nurse walk out of the room and he came up to Buffy’s bedside, feeling at loss as he rubbed the back of his neck.


“You lied to the nurse,” she whispered with wide eyes.


“Yeah, guess I did.”


“That’s not very nice of you.”


“You want me to go?”


“No.” Buffy glanced up at him, pouting. “You didn’t bring me any grapes. Giles brought me grapes when I was in the hospital last year.”


“Do I look like a sodding Watcher to you?”


“Sing for me then.”


“What?” Now he was appalled. What was he, her personal entertainer?


“You have a sexy voice. You have to sing for me or I’ll... I’ll throw my pillow at you.”


“Go easy on the scary threats, would you?”


Her eyes filled up with tears.


“Oh for Christ’s sake… turn off the waterworks. I’ll sing, alright?”


The tears seemed to have miraculously disappeared as she grinned at up him. Spike opened his mouth and sang quietly.


“Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated. Nothin' to do and no where to go-o-oh I wanna be sedated-”


“Now dance.” She seemed to mull it over and her eyes lit up with wickedness. “Oh… dance and strip!”


“What? I bloody well will not!”


“Fine, you lousy stuck-up vampire.”


Was the queen of repression actually calling him stuck-up? Now that stung.


“What kind of medication did they give you anyway?”


“It’s making me loopy!” she said with a wide smile and latched onto his arm. Unprepared for the sudden move, Spike fell half on top of her.


He was assaulted by her scent and it made him want to do unspeakable things. Things that involved candles and chocolate. He truly was damned.


“Hug me.”


Spike recoiled in horror. “Have you gone off your rocker? What am I asking? Of course you have.”


“Hug me!”


He regarded her, noting the resolved expression on her face. “Alright! Has anyone ever told you how annoying that ordering people around is?”


She sat up and he awkwardly put his arms around her shoulders, his jaw clenching. Her hair tickled his neck as she curled against him, her knees tucked under her chin. His arms tightened around her possessively as she sighed in contentment. If anyone ever told him that he would one day willingly cuddle with the Slayer-- the very bane of his existence-- he’d rip their throats out and laugh at their stupidity. Now he couldn’t deny how marvelous it felt.


Spike leaned his cheek against her hair and breathed her in against his will. He wanted to bottle her scent up and carry it in his pocket. Better yet, carry her around everywhere. All small and feminine yet strong enough to crush his bones into powder. God, he wanted to lay her in the middle of a bed covered in rose petals and worship her.


Why don’t you wear a pink tutu while you’re at it, Big Bad?


Her arms unfurled from around her legs as she tucked them under her and circled his waist, turning a bit to the side to be able to fit against him better. “Spike?”


“Yeah?”


“Have you always smelled this nice?” Her breath warmed the side of his neck as she leaned her head on his shoulder.


“Uh… think so.”


“You’re not wearing your coat.”


“Lent it to you, remember?”


“I’m not giving it back,” she said with a teasing smile.


Stroking her spine, he lifted his scarred eyebrow. “Aren’t you now? And why is that?”


She shrugged against him. “Because then… you’ll have to stay.”


“I thought you were all eager to get rid of me.” He frowned, ceasing the movement of his hand. Why would she even want him around? It wasn’t like she hid her dislike of him. When she wasn’t pumped full of drugs, that is.


“Not really. Now can I have jell-o?”


“Avoiding the subject, are you? Just this once I’ll let you, but don’t think I won’t bring it up when you’re back to your bitchy self.”


“I’m not bitchy,” she said morosely, slid out of his arms and relaxed against the pillows. “Now feed me the cherry goodness.”


“You can’t eat while you’re lying, pet. Sit up.” She did and Spike arranged the pillows against the headboard so she could lean back on them as she sat. He took the tray from her bedside table and arched a brow at the wobbly red substance, all the while wondering what the hell he was doing, playing nice with the Slayer. “This looks disgusting. You sure you want to eat it?”


“Give it here, Mister.” She opened her mouth and stared at him expectantly.


Spike rolled his eyes and put a spoonful of jell-o into her mouth. She closed her lips around the spoon and actually moaned. The fact that the sound turned him on didn’t bode well for his sanity at all. He coughed and glanced away from her ecstatic expression as she swallowed it.


“You’ve got hands… you can feed yourself.” He thrust the spoon into her hand.


Her bottom lip quivered as she gazed at him with those doe like eyes. “I always have to do everything by myself. And my hands are all shaky.”


Spike resisted the urge to groan and gazed upwards at the ceiling. “Why me?”


Now she began to sniff miserably and he snatched the utensil from her fingers before dipping it into the plastic cup to scoop up more of the treat. “No need to bawl. Now open up.”


She bestowed him with another pitiful look and wiped her nose with the back of her hand before eating the spoonful. “Thank you,” she whispered.


He shifted uneasily on the bed and shrugged, hating the warmth spreading through his chest from the way she was gazing at him. “Don’t mention it. And don’t get used to it either… I'm not your sodding slave.”


“Oh. Spike slave… that’s something I wouldn’t mind having,” she muttered and his eyes widened. Did he just hear her say she wanted him to be her slave? She stared back at him, a very picture of innocence as she chewed. Maybe he’d just imagined it.


She voiced her pleasure with another provocative moan as he fed her and he inconspicuously adjusted himself when she wasn’t looking.


“Oh, come on. It can’t honestly be that good, Slayer.”


She smirked.


Bloody hell, she’s gonna be the death of me.


TBC

A/N: Did you like drugged up Buffy? I dare say she's a sight more pleasant, isn't she? ;)
 
<<     >>