Chapter 3
“Right, bath…um…” Buffy flushed and distracted herself by stowing their bags away in a corner of the hotel room while Spike casually wheeled himself about, smirking knowingly at her discomfort. “Well, the bathroom is over there, so…help yourself!” Her voice was a little too peppy for her liking and she hoped he hadn’t noticed the way her heart rate increased but knew that was wishful thinking. And he had the audacity to look sheepish!
“’d love to, pet…but…seems I still have the unfortunate inability of usin’ my legs at the mo’.”
“Right. Your legs,” she tucked her blond hair behind her ears and chewed on the inside of her cheek, patting her thighs nervously with the palms of her hands. “Oh, I know! I can just sit your chair in the bathtub and turn on the shower! You’ve got clean clothes and we can set the wet ones out to dry!” Brilliant plan, Buffy!
“I can’t sit in the bloody wheelchair underneath the water, Slayer! Ever heard of rust? Won’ do me any good if I can’ even move the wheels!” So the wheelchair was state-of-the-art, thanks to Drusilla stealing it from the hospital and it was rust-proof, but she didn’t know that.
“Well, we’ll just have to risk it, Spike. I’m not your nursemaid, ok?” She folded her arms across her chest and cocked her hip to the side. Standard ‘don’t fuck with me’ Slayer pose.
“’M not gonna sit under the shower in my clothes! You’re insane!”
“And I’m not going to help you take a bath, what are you, four?”
Had the bint gone completely off her rocker? He was in a wheel chair! It wasn’t like he could really do it himself. Maybe he could, but it would take a Herculean effort and a lot of cursing and he wasn’t in the mood. It started off as a magnificent plan to embarrass the Slayer when she spied his naughty bits but the whole thing just made him feel as pathetic as he looked. He was her enemy, not some bloke she went to the mall and ate pizza with. A vampire that she’d just as soon dust let alone help take a bath because he was crippled. If he were the big bad, able to saunter about the room like he owned the place, it might be a bit easier to execute as well as stroke his damaged ego when she blushed. But then he wouldn’t have the disability as an excuse to get naked in front of her. Not like he really needed such an excuse, but it seemed like such a bloody good idea at the time and he hoped he could play on her good nature to have a little bit of fun. But now he just wanted the whole thing over with and he was starting to feel sorry for himself. This was not how Spike, William the Bloody was supposed to be. And if she didn’t stop looking at him like he was a wounded puppy, he was going to use all his strength to lunge himself in her direction and rip her throat out.
“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “Don’ need your sodding help anyway, you bitch!” He wheeled towards the bathroom, cursing under his breath when the foot brace knocked against the door frame. He backed up and tried it again and hissed when his elbow rammed into the door. Under different circumstances, Buffy might have laughed at his misfortune but she suddenly felt like a gigantic ass hole. However, she was the Slayer and he was just a stupid vampire and why should she have to take care of him? It’s not like they forced him into coming with them on this little excursion…
“Spike?”
He’d already slammed the door. Spike angrily pulled his t-shirt off and leaned forward to remove his boots. They landed with a loud thud in the corner of the tiny bathroom, then came the socks and he situated himself as close to the tub as he could, leaned over, and turned on the water. He heard her calling his name from the other side of the door and he shot her the bird as if she could see it.
“Spike, I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Piss off, Slayer! Wouldn’ want you to put yourself out.”
He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and tried to push them down his hips to no avail. This was the one time in his life he cursed his tight jeans. He couldn’t feel his legs, couldn’t feel his feet, couldn’t figure out a way to brace himself and lift his hips to get them down and he’d only managed a mere inch of movement. If he were lying down, it might be easier but there was no space in the tiny bathroom to do that and he’d probably just fall in a heap on the tile anyway, making this all the more impossible.
Buffy could hear him cursing and struggling and realized he hadn’t taken in a clean set of clothes. “Do you want me to get you something to change into?”
Spike ran his hands down his face. “Yeah, guess I forgot.”
She rummaged through his bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, then she looked everywhere for underwear. “Stupid Giles forgot to pack him any,” she muttered under her breath. That’s all she needed was one more thing for him to be pissed at her about. She grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from her luggage and thought it might do for damage control. Who could be angry when bubbles were on the menu? She knocked on the bathroom door lightly.
“Can I come in?”
Spike sighed loudly. He hadn’t moved at all. “Yeah, sure.”
He turned his head away when he heard her enter. Buffy daintily walked around him and sat on the edge of the tub and squeezed some bubble bath into the hot stream of water.
“What’s that?”
“Bubble bath,” she said nervously. “I-I thought maybe you’d…you know. Want to soak for a while.”
Spike snorted and rolled his eyes, though he was secretly touched she’d thought of it. Unless she was doing it out of pity. “Look, you don’ have to do that.”
“I know,” she said, staring at the label of the bottle. It wasn’t so much the idea of helping him that bothered her. It was the thought that he’d have to get naked to do it. She’d only ever been with Angel and it was dark so she didn’t really see much. But she knew she’d end up having to do it and bubbles might conceal enough for it to be possible. And then he could bathe himself, she’d come back and help…dry him off! God, this was all so difficult and if she’d only been a little more experienced in this area she wouldn’t have any problems. She turned off the water once the bathtub was filled, both of them stuck in a strange silence.
Spike was wondering how long she was going to sit there because he was not going to let her see him attempt to get in the tub on his own. He was embarrassed enough and looking weak in front of your enemy was a big no-no.
“So…are you plannin’ on movin’ out of the way there, pet? Can’ exactly finish the job with you blockin’ my path.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, furrowing her brow and looked up at him for the first time and her mouth went dry. Shirtless Spike was a sight unlike any she’d ever imagined and even though his expression was marred with annoyance, she couldn’t help but soak up the chiseled and alabaster vision in front of her with a gulp. She shook her head and realized his pants were unzipped but he’d failed to remove them.
Spike muttered something under his breath.
“What?”
“I said…I can’t get my pants off!”
“Oh.” Buffy was breathing rapidly now. She could do this. She’d killed the Master and tons of demons. Taking off Spike’s pants would so not be a problem, except that it totally and completely was. If he so much as made a snide comment, she was going to drop him on his ass and leave him to his own devices. Her good graces would only run so far. With an energetic intake of breath, Buffy stood and turned to face him. “Give me your hands.”
“W-what?”
“Spike, just…God, this is already hard enough for me, ok? So just do as I say or I’m leaving you and you can fend for yourself!” Ok, so that was harsh but she was nervous and luckily, he obliged her. She lifted him out of the chair and wrapped one arm around his back to hold him steady. “Now, push your jeans down and I’ll hold you up.”
And then he smirked. Perhaps his ego wasn’t so broken because Spike instantly took note of the creeping blush on her cheeks and the sound of her blood rushing through her veins. So maybe it wasn’t that she didn’t want to help him because he was her enemy, or that she thought him pathetic, but because she was just a poor lost little girl who’d only ever been with the great git. Knowing him, he made her first time all special-like with candles and soft Kenny G music or something equally poncy and covered up his goodies so she wouldn’t suffer any embarrassment. Well, this was just brilliant. It did wonders for his character, knowing that even as feeble as he was, he still had that effect on a woman. Not that it had been working on Drusilla lately, but still. He took what he could get.
“Slayer, are you taking advantage of me?” he said cheekily as he pushed his jeans down and let them fall to the floor.
Buffy glared at him. It was a nice excuse to keep her from looking down, because she so was not looking! “Do you want me to drop you on your ass?”
He chuckled and rolled his tongue behind his teeth. “It’s a nice ass. Wanna see?”
“God, just…get in the damn tub!”
“Little help?”
She sighed and helped him sit on the edge, averting her eyes from the parts that labeled him a man, and pulled his jeans off that were bunched around his feet. Then she aided him in swinging his legs over and sliding down into the bubbly water. Well, that wasn’t so bad. And then she looked at him. His eyes were closed and a soft smile played on his lips as he let out a sigh. Buffy so did not need to be seeing this and really, she could just go ahead and leave now but somehow her feet were planted on the floor. He opened his eyes then. His dark eyebrows and his sapphire orbs were a contrast with his white skin, the bubbles and the white tile of the bathroom. Were his eyes always that blue? Was she staring? No, she most definitely was not staring.
“Mind handin’ me some shampoo and conditioner, luv?” Spike cleared his throat, scolding his voice-box for sounding so husky at that moment. What was it thinking, anyway? Was it trying to seduce the Slayer? Hell no. Spike wanted to make her squeamish and annoyed, not hot and bothered. Although, that had its perks, too. Since she’d yet to move a muscle, he figured the latter was in full effect. One corner of his mouth lifted in a playful smile and he said, “Slayer? You in there?”
“What? Oh yeah. Shampoo because you’re naked. Oh my god!” Her eyes grew wide at her own Freudian slip and she hurriedly made her escape, ignoring the silky chuckles echoing from the bathroom. She searched his bag for the required hair products, muttering to herself, “Ohmigodohmigod, what the hell is wrong with me?” She screwed her eyes shut and cursed, taking a few deep breaths to gain a sense of control and went back into the bathroom. He was happily soaking in the tub and managed to scoot down a bit so his head rested on the edge and his knees slightly bent. He looked so yummy…wait, yummy? No, he looked…angelic. Shit! Stop thinking those things!
Even as these thoughts battled it out in her brain, Buffy found herself sitting on the edge of the tub and squeezing a healthy amount of shampoo in her hands. As if by their own volition, her cursed hands moved forward and began massaging his scalp and her damn eyes traveled down the length of his chest. Spike moaned softly at the feel of her tiny hands on his head. Drusilla had never done this. Usually she just stripped him down and gave him a sponge bath, dunked his head in some water all the while talking to him like he was one of her dollies. And even that was few and far between as he’d become more of a nuisance to her in his current state. She’d completely neglected him for the past three days and a good soak in the tub was just what he needed. Why the Slayer was being so kind, he didn’t know.
“I can do that myself. Hands still work,” he said with a smile, craning his neck back to look at her. Her eyes were glassed over and she seemed to be deep in thought. “Slayer?”
“Right, um,” she wiggled her hands in the water to clean off the soap and then she realized what she’d been doing. “God, do it yourself!” She said, completely embarrassed and unceremoniously tossed the shampoo and conditioner bottles into the bath water with a loud splash.
Spike laughed at her frantic attempt to get out of the bathroom and when she slammed the door behind her he shouted, “I’ll just call for you when I’m done, yeah? I’ll need some help getting all this soapy water off of me with a nice fluffy towel.” He could almost feel the tension in her body, hear the gears turning in her cute little head as she sussed out the best way to handle that without having to touch him too much.
Once he was thoroughly squeaky clean, Spike drained the bathtub and turned the water back on, splashing the remaining bubbles off his skin. Perfect. Nothing in the way now. He cleared his throat and called out sweetly, “All done!” He linked his hands behind his head and stretched, waiting for the Slayer to get an eye full.
Buffy opened the door and gasped, turning her head away sharply. “God, Spike!”
There was that infuriating laugh of his that told her how much he was enjoying this. She grabbed a towel and tossed it in his direction. “Aw, you aren’ afraid of ol’ naked Spike, are you, luv?” He said chuckling as he dried off his body as best as he could in the tub.
“Hurry up!”
“So touchy,” he said in a silky-smooth voice. “I’m covered now. You can turn around.” She had to force back a giggle when she faced him. Spike had the towel draped in his lap and he raised his arms like a toddler wanting to be picked up by his mother and a boyish grin on his face. She awkwardly helped him out of the tub and back on the ledge, throwing him a pair of jeans. He set to work pulling them as far as he could up his legs, smiling at her back. He cleared his throat and she turned around, forcing herself to look him in the eyes and not at his crotch, though his eyes were just as distracting when he had the audacity to wink at her. Buffy pursed her lips and stomped over, hooked her hands beneath his arms and lifted him up, wrapping her arm around his waist in the same fashion as before.
Spike took his time pulling his jeans up and his eyelashes fluttered as he caught a whiff of her hair. He sensed her irritation when the grip around his waist tightened as he continued to struggle so he rolled his eyes and yanked them up, and buttoned them. “There.”
Buffy wordlessly helped him into his wheel chair and handed him a clean t-shirt. “Giles forgot to pack you any underwear, sorry.”
“Oh, that’s because I don’ own any,” he said plainly.
“You don’t….you don’t wear underwear?” she asked incredulously and then blushed again when he tilted his head to the side and ran his hand down his torso.
“Easy access, pet.”
“God, you’re so…”
“So…what, pet?”
“I was going to say disgusting!”
“No you weren’. You were going to say, ‘Oh, Spike…that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.’”
“I hate you!”
“Feelin’s mutual, pet,” he said with a leer and wheeled past her, deciding the t-shirt could wait for a while. If his nose was correct, and it always was, little Miss Slayer was enjoying it a little more than she was willing to admit. And that smell was glorious. It meant only one thing: Victory.
Buffy growled and slammed the bathroom door and turned on the shower. If she weren’t so angry, she might have noticed that she’d subconsciously only turned on the cold faucet. But she was, and she denied, and she furiously washed away those lingering images of Spike covered in bubbles and grumbling with pleasure as he soaked in the warm water, his mouth parting slightly as puffs of air escaped when she massaged his scalp…and…
Buffy cranked the cold nozzle all the way to the left, allowing the icy water to slam hard against her fevered flesh. Stupid, stupid vampire. She was not attracted to a soulless vampire. She was just lonely. That’s all it was. Lonely, heartbroken and forced into a situation that made her think things that weren’t true because she hadn’t slept in a few days. That’s all it was. She was insane if she thought any further about it, and really, it was pretty silly.
What she was not prepared for, however, was coming out of the shower and finding Spike comfortably nestled and spread out on the bed in all his shirtless glory, tucked beneath the covers and fast asleep.
With a long sigh, Buffy slipped on her pajamas and crawled into the bed. She was too tired to care, too tired to notice that Spike’s left eye popped open and watched her as she did it, too exhausted to take any precautions for her safety. A wicked grin spread across Spike’s mouth and he waited for her to fall asleep. But his plans were often denied, much like they were at that moment because Buffy finally realized the danger of this situation and with two hands and her feet, she shoved Spike off the bed and he toppled onto the floor with a loud groan. She threw a blanket on him and snuggled into the sheets with a sweet smile. “Good night Spike,” she said with a yawn.
“Bitch.”