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Car Trouble 11 - Hair of the Dog
By the Kings of Mercia
Rating: 15
Pairing B/S


Chapter 1


Spike carefully tipped the perfectly cooked stir-fry chicken with Chinese straw mushrooms and green onions into the oven-proof dish, and covered it with aluminium foil and placed it by the other cooked dishes of egg-fried rice, barbecued spare-ribs, beef with bamboo shoots and water-chestnuts and finally sweet and sour pork balls that were already in the oven. Carefully adjusting the oven temperature so it wouldn’t dry out and spoil, he closed the oven door. He rinsed the wok under the tap and placed it in the dishwasher.

Checking the time, he laid the table, putting a spoon and fork as well as chopsticks for Buffy, as she hadn’t quite mastered the dextrous art of using chopsticks yet.

The doorbell rang – Spike frowned – who would be calling this time of night? Willow said she’d stay at her friends place…As he made his way to the front door, he just hoped that it wasn’t Giles with something apocalyptic, as he and Buffy were hoping to have a nice cosy supper after she’d finished patrolling.

Spike opened the door and was about to make all manner of excuses as to why they couldn’t be disturbed, when the sight that met his eyes made his blood run even colder and his knees go weak.
He had to clutch onto the door to stay upright, his heart in his mouth
There was Clem, holding a very limp and lifeless Buffy in his arms

“Spike!”

“Oh Christ no! What’s wrong – oh god baby no, please be-“

“Spike, don’t worry, she’s not hurt, look, let me put her down on the sofa” Spike opened the door wide and trotted in quickly after Clem, who gently laid her down.

“What’s wrong with her?” Spike was on his knees, brushing the hair from her forehead, he scanned her for wounds, couldn’t smell blood or see any bruising what so ever.

“I was in your, sorry MY crypt, and I heard this off key singing, and crashing about, I look outside, and see her staggering about, I called her name, she turns round, nearly falls over, giggles, slurs ‘Clem! Clemmy, Clemmy, Lemmy hug you Clemmy!’ She giggles some more, then she over balances and falls ass – I mean she flies backwards over a gravestone. I thought I better bring her to you – she couldn’t knock out a gnats eye the state she was in”

All the time Clem had been talking, Spike hadn’t taken his eyes off his wife.

Spike sniffed by her mouth. No, no smell of drink there, not even vodka which although you wasn’t supposed to be able to smell it, he could with his advanced nasal sensory capacity.

“Um, well Clem, what can I say – you did great – brilliant in fact…you didn’t see anything else – anything that might have caused this?”

Clem shrugged and shook his head no.

“Absolutely nothing – the area was, is, excuse the pun, quiet as a graveyard. Nothing out of the ordinary”

“That’s why I let her go patrolling on her own now – oh god baby…come on sweetheart, wake up” Spike stroked her forehead again, and to his joy, she stirred, turned on her side and threw an arm around him, then proceeded to snore like a pig.

Spike closed his eyes and rested his head on hers

“Oh thank the gods…”

“I’ll um…I’ll leave you to it then…smells nice in here…I better go”

Spike looked up, he realised for what ever reason Buffy was in this state, she was in no state to sit and eat what he’d prepared, and it would go to waste………

Clem had turned to leave, and was almost at the front door, Spike carefully disentangled himself from Buffy and said,

“Clem – don’t go mate, look – are you hungry?”

“Starving – I THINK I’ve got a packet of Cheezo’s in the cupboard at home” truth was, he was salivating at the wonderful savoury smell emanating from the kitchen.

“Only I cooked us a Chinese, it’ll go to waste now – you’re welcome to have some if –“

Clem had closed the front door and was taking his coat off before Spike could finish talking!

“Lead me to it!!”

Spike looked down at a pig-snoring Buffy and he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead. Deciding she couldn’t come to any harm for a few minutes, he stood and went into the kitchen, telling Clem to sit at the table.

After decanting the contents of the oven to the dining table and getting him a cold beer, Spike went back to his beloved slayer.

“Baby…wake up…come on sweet heart” Spike managed to haul her up into the sitting position, albeit with her head lolling to one side, and he began to unbutton her coat. All the time he spoke gently to her, even though now he knew she was just drunk, he was intrigued as to why – she didn’t like alcohol, if pressed she’d have a glass of champagne as a toast on special occasions, but as she went out of the door to patrol that evening, she said, ‘I’ll just do a quick sweep, then we can have a cosy supper, just the two of us’ and left Spike to cook it………

“………That’s it…now the other arm baby…………there!” Spike threw her coat onto the armchair and turned his attention back to her

“Baby………princess………little one………come on babe, wake up sweetie”

“Hmm…” She muttered something unintelligible and slid sideways

“Ah-ah, come on…wakey-wakey, Buffy!”

Buffy cracked a bleary blood-shot eye, then closed it again

“That’s it, come on pet…come on, BUFFY, wake up!” Spike encouraged, and this time she tried both eyes and blinked, stared owlishly at him, gave a lopsided grin and slurred,

“Huh, wake, m’wake…Shpike! My baby…hmm love my likkle Shpiky babe, hmm!”

She leaned forward and flung her arms around his neck, nuzzling into his chest. Spike kissed the top of her head, then manoeuvred himself off the floor and onto the sofa next to her, rubbing her back.

“And what got you so drunk, huh? Gonna tell me babe – I did us a nice supper”

Buffy answered with a deep snore, and Spike sighed, there would be no talking to her tonight that was for sure……… Clem’s disembodied voice carried from the dining room…

“Um, Spike…will you be wanting any of this food, because it’s jolly delicious, and-“

“Eat all you want Clem – you can take anything left with you”

“Thanks – god this is SO good!”

Twenty minutes later, Clem entered the lounge with one of the ovenproof dishes covered in foil

“That was the best Chinese I’ve ever had! – Thanks…um how’s…?” Clem craned his neck to look at Buffy’s face.

“Still the same, and she appears to be drunk as a skunk, but I can’t smell booze on her, I can’t work it out”

“Maybe one of the witches could help you”

“Yeah…it’s a bit late to contact them now though, I’ll just let her sleep it off and she can tell me herself what happened in the morning”

“Okay then – well, I better be off – thanks again for the food, I’ll bring this back later, (he held up the full dish) and I can see how she is”

“Thanks again Clem – you can see yourself out, can’t you”

“Sure, no problem, night then”

“Yeah, night Clem”

Spike sat there on the sofa, his wife apparently drunk as they come, cuddled up to him. Every so often his lips would absently kiss her hair, as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully against her head

Spike’s eyes opened as soon as he heard the front door open quietly. He turned his head to see Willow creeping in…

“Red, is that you?”

“Sorry Spike, I know I said I’d stay at Tara’s tonight, but there’s a book I simply MUST have, I’ll be gone in ten seconds I just want to-“

“Don’t go, come here a minute will you?”

“Oh, um okay, what is it?”

“It’s Buffy – there’s something wrong”

“Wrong – like how – oh god, you didn’t poison her with the- no, no course you didn’t!” Willow saw Spike’s face at her crass remarks and thought better of finishing the sentence about knocking his culinary expertise…

“She’s drunk, well she seems like it, Clem bought her home she was paralytic, couldn’t stand up, but there’s no smell of booze on her”

“Oh my god, Buffy too – Tara, come here – Buffy’s been affected too!”

“What do you mean?” Spike asked, frowning. Tara joined them in the lounge, holding the evening paper

“It’s the news headlines, scores of people are turning up at hospitals and doctor’s surgeries, apparently extremely drunk, but NOTHING shows up in toxicology reports”

“What?” Spike frowned, and Tara proffered the newspaper for him to read

“They give them blood tests, urine tests, but there’s no alcohol is present, no toxic substances at all” Tara explained while Spike read the article.

“Well what’s causing it then?”

“We’ve no idea – that’s why I wanted my Ars Daemonicus book, I thought we might be able to shed some light on the matter”

Spike finished reading the newspaper piece and handed Tara the newspaper back.

“This is weird!”

“I suppose it could be a new drug…you know, they can mask them now, you think how many athletes cheat and-“

“Glinda, don’t be silly, Buffy DOESN’T take drugs!”

“No…no she doesn’t, does she” Tara had to admit

“And how come, in a group of people only some are affected – not all of them, so it says in that article?” Spike asked

“A gas of some sort, maybe?” Tara said

“Then everybody would have been affected when they breathed it in” Willow said

Tara shrugged and was just about to say she’d no idea, when there was a fumble at the front door, and in bowls Xander, looking for all the world like he’d just left a good frat party…

He had a pair of underpants on his head, an absolutely huge bra on over his jumper, odd shoes, his trousers were wet he was covered in purple foam and he was carrying a traffic cone and some very dead daffodils

“Wah-hey! Where’s my likkle wee-wo…goh prezzies for my bes’ girl!” And with that, he promptly farted and fell over, dead drunk

“Charming! Come in why doncha!” Spike muttered, Tara and Willow gave each other a wide-eyed stare before going over to help their friend………





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