"Get off! You know I can walk just fine. There's nothing wrong with my bloody legs." Spike shrugged off Buffy's help and purposely stormed down the stairs until he was forced to stop at the closed door.

"Forget about the keys?" Buffy jingled them, pretending for his sake that the only reason he couldn't go into his own apartment was that she was holding them, and that it had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn't turn a door knob.

She unlocked the door and he brushed pass her, ignoring her.

"Buffy?" came the soft voice behind her, "Are you sure this is such a good idea? I know you two go way back, but he's kind of . . ."

"Rude, obnoxious, cranky, an asshole?" she laughed, "It's okay Fred. he's just being Spike. I've seen him much worse than this."

"Yeah, but maybe, we could find someplace else for him to recover, I mean it's such a small apartment, not really much room for you to get away from him if he starts to, you know, drive you bonkers."

"Please, less than a year ago I was living with twenty other girls in a house with only two bathrooms. Not to mention a certain slightly crazy, under the control of an ancient evil, vampire. This'll be a cake walk."

"I guess. But you know we could get you a cot and a screen if you needed some privacy. I mean if you needed privacy, cause you know, maybe you don't, it's really none of my business."

Buffy laughed. It really wasn't but she had a feeling Angel was behind Fred's attempts to talk her out of taking care of Spike. Only the other day Fred had said how nice it would be if they could get Spike out of the hospital and somewhere he'd be more comfortable.

"I'll be fine sleeping on the sofa and I can change and stuff in the bathroom. Plenty of privacy."

Normally she would have agreed that it was none of Fred's business but if Angel asked the Texan she hoped that would satisfy him. The last thing she wanted was Angel checking in on them. Not that she thought Angel would really spy on them, but after she had left Spike's room that first night she'd pushed the button for the fourth floor in spite of herself. And when the elevator door had opened Angel had been standing right there.

It didn't prove anything. She'd never gone to security, she wasn't even sure security was on the fourth floor. Instead she'd made an excuse about the building being so big and getting turned around and she'd left. And so what if he had been watching them? It was just him worrying about her. The stuff Spike had said about him being turned on by voyeurism was ridiculous. Sure maybe that was true about Angelus, but not Angel. Spike didn't know what he was talking about.

"Ahhh"

Buffy spun around to see Spike collapse on the couch. He'd tried to sit down, and without thinking had used his hands which wouldn't support his weight. She ran to him to make sure he was all right.

"Get off. I'm fine ya' bloody bint," He tried to pull himself away from her drawing his arms close to his body like a young child that didn't want to be picked up. But she ignored his protests and simply moved his body about till he was settled.

"The blood's in the fridge. I assume that's all right ma'am."

Buffy glared at the goon. He wasn't really a goon. He was part of the nursing staff but in Buffy's book anyone who worked for the forces of evil was either a minion or a goon.

"Remember, it may look like a lot of blood but it's only a day's supply. We'll send over more tomorrow when the doctor comes. He needs lots of blood so that his body knits those arms on good and strong. Oh, and here's the sheet with the instructions for his exercises. The doctor will probably alter them a bit tomorrow when he sees how he's doing but it's important. You need to rebuild you're strength and dexterity. Okay Spike?"

"Yeah Fred, I got it. I'll be real good, pet. I promise." he smiled at the brunette.

Buffy wanted to smack him. Fred was okay but Spike seemed to flirt constantly with her and Fred always seemed to smile and glow a little when he did. She obviously enjoyed the attention. It made Buffy want to sit the scrawny girl down and tell her point by point why it would never work between her and Spike. Not that she thought Fred was really interested in Spike but that made it worse. Leading the poor guy on like that. Someone should really have a talk with her.

"Well, okay, by then. Good luck guys."

Fred left closing the door behind her. For a moment the two of them just sat there.

"Look, Buffy, I appreciate this but I don't need you to take care of me."

"Uh huh. Spike turn on the TV." she held out the remote. He glared at her for a moment but refused to back down. He reached out and put his fingers around the remote but they wouldn't curl all the way around it. He tried to lift it out of her hand but he couldn't close his fingers tightly enough around it and it clattered to the floor. "See? You might miss Passions."

She put her cheek against his shoulder and let him put his arm around her. "Seriously Spike. I don't mind. I volunteered for this remember. So just sit back and enjoy it. After all, how many vampires get to have a Slayer take care of their needs?" She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

"Well pet, since you put it like that. . ."

"Spike," she warned.

He gave her his best innocent look. "I'm just asking you to take care of the needs I can't attend to myself right now and a good hand job would really help me relax."

She got up from the couch making a disgusted noise.

"Hey wait. Look Buffy, there is one thing. Please sit back down. It's not about sex, I promise."

She looked at him warily, but he sounded sincere, so she sat back down.

"It's about the blood. It's human, you know?"

"No. I thought Angel had a strict pigs blood only policy."

"He does. But it's not like I work there, he may not even know. I asked the doctor's about it back at the clinic, they said it was so I would heal faster. But Buffy. . . the thing is I don't want it. I can't. . ."

"Spike, it really is better for you. And besides, it's from a hospital. I mean, if you were human and lost your arms they'd give you lots of blood. It's the same thing really."

"Maybe, I don't know. But, pet, it's not like it is from a real hospital. It's from Wolfram & Hart. How can I know that the people who gave it, really gave it. That it wasn't taken. I just. . . I can't."

"Shh, it's okay. You don't have to." She put her arms around him, and held him. "I'll go to a butchers for you. But Spike, if you're drinking pigs blood you'll need to drink more okay?"

"Yeah I will. Promise. Thanks, pet." His words were muffled as he buried his face against her neck pulling her deeper into the hug.

Buffy snuggled in closer to him. It felt so good, holding him and being held like this. And there was nothing wrong with it, she told herself, it was just a nice friendly hug. She felt Spike's arms tighten and shift around her and suddenly he was pulling her onto his lap.

"Now about that other thing," we whispered in her ear as he tried to grind her ass against his erection.

Easily she pulled herself out of his grasp and stood up, hands on her hips glaring down at him. He just looked up at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Butchers. Where is it?" she demanded.

"Come on, pet, I was only kidding." it wasn't very convincing with the growing bulge in his jeans.

"Spike if you don't want to drink the blood in the fridge I have to go get you some more. So where is the nearest butchers?"

He grumbled but finally he gave in and gave her directions. As soon as she had them she went straight out the door.

For a moment as the door closed behind her, she felt bad. She was supposed to be taking care of him, and she hadn't even offered to turn the TV on. She'd just left him there on the couch with a hard-on and nothing to do. She imagined that right now he was helplessly plucking at his belt trying to undo his pants or maybe he was just trying to rub himself as best he could with his limp hands.

She thought about how desperately he must want her, how deep his need must be, and how he couldn't do anything about it, but sit there with his cock pressing against his jeans and fantasize about her. It must be driving him crazy, she thought. How much he must need her right now.

And then she smiled. Serves him right. It would teach him a lesson. There was no way she could take care of him if he expected her to get him off when ever he felt the need. It was best if he learn that he couldn't have her. That he could want her and want her, the need could build more and more, until he felt like he was going to burst but she wasn't going to give in.

She looked at the ring of keys in her hand. They were Spike's, and he'd said something about having a car. She headed to the building's garage and hit the button on the key ring until the lights flashed on one of the cars.

It was a black sports car of some sort. She wondered where Spike had gotten it. It didn't really matter, she knew there was no way she could drive the thing, but she wasn't interested in driving it. Instead she got in, and sat in the drivers seat. She ran her hand around the stick shift and thought, there was defiantly no way she could drive this. Then she unzipped her jeans and while her right hand moved up and down on the shift she began to rub herself with her left hand, while she thought about Spike, and how hard he was, and how he couldn't do a thing about it.