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Chapter Two: Fixed

They pulled into the driveway of Spike’s house, and it seemed like no one was home. It was walking distance from Buffy’s house, just two blocks away.

Buffy looked up at the gloomy house illuminated by the moon, as she stepped out of the car. “Is your mom and dad home?” The last thing she needed was her mother getting on her case about being in Spike’s house when she was supposed to be on a date with Parker.

“No, they’re out for a little alone time.” Spike made his way to the front door, and Buffy quickly followed. He turned on the foyer light upon entrance. “Go sit, and I’ll get some Band-Aids to patch you right up, Luv.” He pointed toward the living room.

She did as told, grimacing at the term of endearment he used. He wasn’t supposed to call her things like that; they were supposed to be sworn enemies. She made her way to the mantle above the fireplace, to see Spike in a light she could never think of him in.

He was smiling happily, at the age of ten, wearing a tie, a brown Afro on his head, and gold-framed glasses perched on his nose. He looked so sweet and innocent, and the Spike that was in that house with her seemed like an alien compared. She giggled a bit.

“Having yourself a little laugh at what a pathetic poofter I used to be.” Spike came into the room, placing the supplies on the coffee table. “Come sit. Let’s get this over with, as you said.”

She sat on the couch, and Spike leaned before her on his knees. “I can’t believe that’s you.” She whispered.

It was hard concentrating on her wounds, and not of her long tanned slender legs. They led to the mini skirt, which he could barely look up without getting caught. “Most people can’t. This may sting.” He said, earning a small flinch from her as he pour peroxide over each scrape. Then, he took a piece of medicated cotton and swabbed the little nicks and cuts on her arms, and calves. “Fell pretty hard. That pretty boy Parker just wanted to take a poke, and sent you running in the other direction.”

“I was stupid to think I could get out there again, and trust.” Another amazement, she was making conversation with the big bad.

He paused at her face, and gently wiped a small gash on her left cheek, looking deep into her hazel eyes. “I understand how you feel.” He said softly as he quickly looked away and wiped her knees with paper towel. “These are pretty bad.”

“How can you? You’ve been with Drusilla since you got here?” It came to her that he wasn’t as bad as he seemed.

“My first bloody love…my dark princess. But now, she belongs to your bloody ex. That fucking poof.” He gave her an apologetic look, when he roughly applied antibacterial ointment in anger.

“Angel and Drusilla?” She was a bit shocked by the news. “That’s interesting.” She mumbled. She was over Angel, but it did bother her some.

“The way I see it, they deserve each other. He’s been digging into her for a while, I’m thinking before you and him broke up.” He put the Band-Aides on her knees only, and stood. “That should be good. Don’t need to cover the others, they’ll be gone by Monday.”

“Is that why she hated me so much?” Buffy asked, those hisses in her head.

“Part of it, I guess. Ready to get home to your mum?” He didn’t want to dwell on the subject that was Drusilla. He knew she disliked Buffy because he used to fancy her.

“Sounds like a plan.” She said softly, following him to the door.

They got into the car, and he began driving slowly. “You don’t like me much.”

“Not at all…with the exception of tonight.” She said, giving him a small smile.

“I’m sorry…about junior high. I had a hard time expressing my feelings for girls back then.” He pulled up to her house two minutes later, and he looked over at her, a smile dancing over his features.

“That was you crushing on me?” She questioned. ‘Please don’t tell me he still like me.’

“Was.” He replied. “But now, we’re two different people. I’m bad, you’re…annoying.”

“I am not annoying!” She yelled. “And you’re not bad…you’re like a stray puppy, all cute and stuff, but you don’t pet him because his bark is so loud. You’re all talk, no walk.”

“So you think I’m cute?” He asked with a cocky smile. His blue eyes sparkled when he saw the blush creep up her cheeks.

She opened the car door, and stepped out, slamming it shut. “Oh please…” She hugged herself, as the wind blew.

“I’m guessing the hint of pink in your cheeks is a yes, pet.” He smiled up at her.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, it’s a bit chilly out here.” She said.

He reached into the back seat and threw an olive green sweater at her. “I’m guessing you’ll be climbing through your window.”

“How did you know?” She asked, appalled. ‘He knows too much, he should be shot.’

“Dru lives around the block. Spotted you a few times when I went to pick her up.” He explained. “Give the shirt back on Monday at school.” He said, putting the car in reverse.

“No problemo…and Spike,” she called out before he could get down the driveway, “thanks.”

He only nodded his head, and continued leaving. He got his last glimpse of her, making her way up the porch and pulling the sweater over her head.

She inhaled his scent off of the soft material, cigarettes and cologne. She tingle a bit at the aroma, then dismissed the butterflies in her stomach. ‘We’re two different people…I’d never.’

*

“I’m telling you Willow, he fixed me. Cleaned all my cuts, and even Band-Aides. It was sort of like Blast From The Past, when Brendan Fraiser does it for Alicia Silverstone, except no kissing, and he’s more from the ‘80s with his Billy Idol look.” Buffy explained the events of the night before with her best friend over the phone.

It was Sunday morning and when Joyce Summers awoke to see her daughters scrapes and cuts, she order the girl to take it easy and rest. She threatened to make a call to Parker’s mother, but with some convincing, Buffy was able to talk her out of it.

“But Spike? He used to torture you.” Willow Rosenberg said, a hint of shock still in her voice.

“I know, but he actually admitted to me that it was because he used to like me.” Buffy said.

“Oh…used to?” The redhead questioned.

Buffy began fiddling with her stuffed pig, Mr. Gordo’s tail. “Yeah…used to. Do you think I’m in any way annoying?” His comment was still on her mind.

“Annoying? No! Who would ever say anything like that, besides for Cordelia? It wasn’t Cordelia was it?” Willow asked worriedly, referring to the most popular girl in school. She wasn’t on bad terms with the group, but Cordelia Chase liked to pretend so in front of people.

“No one…just something that came to mind.” The other line clicked. “Will, I got someone on the other line, so I’ll see you tomorrow in school.”

“I’ll meet you by your locker.” Willow said, and Buffy pressed the flash button.

“Hello?” She questioned.

“Summers, its Spike.” His accent was appealing, his voice sexy, but Buffy pushed away the realization.

“What’s up?” She asked nervously.

“Just wanted to know if everything was okay with your mum, and your injury.” He actually seemed interested, but he was sure he only wanted to be nice.

“Yeah, she told me to tell you thank you so much for saving me, and she owes you and your family big time.” ‘Could I sound more like a loser?’

“So you told her the truth then?” He asked.

“Yeah, no use lying about it.” She stated.

“Alright, then. I’ll see you around.” He said.

“Yeah, and thanks again…for everything.” She quickly hung up with those words.

Spike laid on his bed, shirtless, one hand under his head; the other pressed the off button on the phone. He let out a long sigh. Since that night, Buffy Summers was a frequent thought on his mind.





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