It was around 11:30 P.M. the following day when Buffy finally got home. She had been Los Angeles bound for a day or so and wasn't necessarily happy to be home. Not that her post-postmortem visit with Angel was a blast per se, but being home just meant dealing with…well…life, something Buffy was just not in the mood to do as of late.
So first things first, she went to check on Dawn. No one had rushed to greet her, so she figured them all to be asleep, which was probably for the best. Buffy really was exhausted.
Pushing open the door to Dawn’s room caused a small sliver of light to permeate the otherwise pitch-black space. Buffy only peeked her head in for a second; Dawn was out cold. Her legs were flung haphazardly off to the left of the bed, while her head was squished against the pillows angled towards the right. Buffy rolled her eyes at the sight and softly shut the door.
Continuing towards her own room, Buffy suddenly stopped short catching a glimpse of the overly florescent lights that shown from the bathroom. That was when she heard it. It was steady and slow and seemingly unassuming; however, to Buffy’s ears it was evil incarnate.
It was the drippy faucet.
The gentle, almost silent, thud of the water droplets against the cold surface of the sink sent Buffy into a frustrated rage.
She flew in through the doorway, knocking various supplies from the counter, in her move for the faucet. Her anger quieted as she glared at it for a few unstable seconds before grabbing the smooth silver knob and forcing it the last centimeter of the way closed forcing the dripping to cease.
But with every drippy faucet came an even bigger flood. Buffy’s particular flood was located in the basement. She’d left in such a hurry for L.A. she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Xander about his plumber buddy who could get her a good deal…or so she hoped.
Trudging down the stairs, Buffy decided to take a look at the damage thus far. It seemed she couldn’t catch a break. You’d think after sacrificing yourself to stop dimensions from bleeding together and pretty much all hell breaking loose that The Powers That Be would cut her some slack, maybe give someone else the drippy pipes and flooded basement because this was the last thing Buffy needed.
She hated feeling sorry for herself; she really did, but every time she closed her eyes she’d see it, the place she had been for those few fleeting moments, where she had viciously been ripped from. So she couldn’t move on. She couldn’t forget. She couldn’t forgive them, not yet at least. However, she could pretend and she could lie. Her friends could live in blissful ignorance, while she took on the responsibilities of mom, friend, slayer, and full-copper-re-pipe fixer. She could do it. Buffy just had to keep on pretending.
Shoving her internal conflict to the back of her mind, Buffy approached and proceeded to make her way down the basement stairs. The last 5 or so steps had been consumed in water, so she squatted on the sixth and glanced at the mess around her. She couldn’t see much; the electricity in the basement was being just as difficult as the pipes, so not only was she surrounded in water, but in darkness as well. Nothing seemed to be looking up.
“Bloody hell!”
Buffy’s head shot up and her eyes were quickly drawn to the darkest corner of the basement. She could have sworn she heard…
“Spike?” she questioned in the direction of the rustling and low spoken British curse.
“…Buffy?” She wouldn’t have been able to see him at all if it hadn’t been for his blinding shock of bleached hair as he turned to glare in her general direction.
“Spike! What the hell are you…” Before she could finish expressing her irritation, a loud splash and weird gurgling noise interrupted her. She could make out the shapes of a few boxes as they tumbled into the water after him, and couldn’t hold back her laughter as he finally appeared before her eyes.
“Bloody hell…” he stammered out again. “Quit the giggling. Will ya’, Slayer? This, “ he said gesturing toward the water, “ is going to damage the leather! Had this coat for over 20 years, only to have it water damaged in the bloody Slayer’s basement.” He whipped the coat off quickly examining it for any more serious damage.
“Yeah, by the way, what exactly were you doing here…in MY basement?” she said, her amusement evident in her voice. He really did look hilarious, and it felt really good to laugh. Laughter had seemed so out of reach lately, along with a bunch of other emotions; it felt good to let loose. And lately Spike seemed to be the only one who would allow her to just be.
Plus the fact that is was beyond human capabilities not to laugh at him. He was soaked from head to toe in water and whatever other sludge had seeped out of the pipes. His face seemed to be carved into a permanent scowl and not to mention that he was still standing in said water.
His black tee and jeans were clinging to his body like a second skin, as if they weren’t tight enough before, not that Buffy particularly minded. Beneath the taut fabric, Buffy could clearly make out the sharps cuts and dips of abs, not to mention the way the clothing pulled and tightened around his pecs and subsequently his biceps.
‘Hmm…Buffy likey.’ The thought had come and passed before she even realized what had happened. Buffy had ogled. She had ogled Spike, of all people while she was standing right in front of him. They had been talking. Hadn’t they? Buffy could barely remember; she too caught up in the Spike ogling.
“Hello. Earth to Slayer!” Spike was even closer to her now, waving a hand slowly in front of her face.
“Huh...what?” Her eyelids took a second to flutter as she readjusted to her current surrounds, ones not including a very naked Spike.
“See something you like, pet?” His expression softened into a playful smirk, as his tongue found it’s proper place, wriggling behind his teeth. A hint of lust shown in his blue eyes that were currently seeking contact with hers.
‘Hmm…the things he could do with that tongue.’ As soon as Buffy had broken free of her lust-addled condition, Spike made with the sensual tongue acrobatics pulling her right back in. This time it seemed the desire presently flowing through her system was here to stay. He didn’t have to know that though.
“What? No! Everything about you is…disgusting, Spike.” Usually insulting Spike was simple, enjoyable even, but for some reason tonight she was off her game. Buffy had realized Spike was attractive a while ago, she had eyes, of course, and he was not easy to miss, but he was Spike with the evilness and creepy obsession. He was never on her radar until…well until she’d gotten resurrected and she’d begun to see him in a whole new, more helpful and less irritating, light.
Now standing in front of her with his clothes clinging to his skin his hotness factor only seemed to increase. This was a road that led to badness, she knew, but her brain didn’t seem to care.
“Yeah, well, pity for you.” Spike’s eyes formed into tight slits as he spoke with increasing anger.
Seeing the hurt in his eyes, she almost felt guilty for her comment…almost, but instead she just sighed crossing her arms across her chest in a haughty expression.
“Look, Spike-“
“You mind if I use your shower?” The question hung in the air as he began to make his way past her. Spike just stared at her expectantly as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her…well she didn’t know exactly what Spike was, but he definitely was not showering using material.
“What? Why!? You just fell into a flooded basement. Why do you need a shower? MY shower?”
“As high and mighty as you might think you are, Slayer, your pipes are still filled with grime, not to mention the bloody stench of the stuff. Its not necessarily something I want plastered to my body, or my clothes, for that matter,” he said tugging at the hem of his tee.
Buffy was silent. Her brain running a mile a minute, she didn’t think she’d be able to handle the thought of a wet…naked…soapy…Spike, right down the hall in her shower. No there was just no way.
“Woah there, mister.” She said clutching the wrist that was pulling on his sodden shirt. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but Buffy held her glare and continued. “There will be no removing of clothing in MY basement, especially YOURS, Spike.” She was laying on the disgust a little thick she knew, but the possibilities running through Buffy’s mind of Spike removing his shirt right before her eyes were way too tempting at the moment.
He just rolled his eyes in response. It wasn’t hard to tell she was overcompensating, and Spike could always read her…well like a book.
“Listen Summers, I’m just looking for a quick scrub down and then I’ll be out of your hair. Was trying to help fix the damn things in the first place the least I could get is a bloody shower.”
The way the words ‘scrub down’ rolled off his tongue made Buffy clench in all the wrong places, insinuating more than just a shower for his efforts. God, What was wrong with her tonight? Every inch of her was on fire. She could feel the static between them as they traded remarks and was sure if she waved a hand amid them it would be like waving through syrup. The tension was thick to say the least…for Buffy. Spike, however, seemed cool as a cucumber, unruffled by the situation in the slightest. He was just standing there all nonchalant and drippy and it was driving Buffy crazy.
He was mumbling something about ‘bloody ungrateful bints, and damn leaking pipes’ when she caught up with his train of thought. “You were fixing the pipes?”
Spike’s eyes suddenly cast downward almost bashfully. He looked more boyish in that moment than Buffy had yet to see him. Shoving his thumbs into his belt loops mustering up some swagger he grumbled, “Yeah, what’s it to ya’, Slayer?” He looked up at her honestly, searching for something akin to appreciation in her eyes, rummaging around in her soul to put some worth to his attempt at a good deed.
But what did it mean to her? Buffy wasn’t sure. Spike….Spike was in her basement, unbeknownst to her, in the process of fixing her pipes, the pipes that were going to cost piles of money, she didn’t have, to fix. She let it wash over her. Done. Processed. What did it mean? His gaze was so intent now, she found herself nervously searching for a proper answer to do him justice. Finally she landed on the word ‘nice’. It was nice what Spike had done…or tried to do before she interrupted, and although Spike had hardly been nice in the past, far from it actually, last year he had helped, and now he was bearable, even friendly at times. So nice she decided was the proper word.
“That was nice of you,” She finished with a small smile and a nod.
Spike seemed distraught. Had she really just…and with the…. and then…’Nice?’. He decided the fumes from whatever filth was swimming in this water were leaking into his brain cells because the Slayer and had definitely not just given him a compliment. “Well, uh…thanks,” Spike concluded awkwardly running a hand through his hair.
‘There’s that shy look again… Buffy thought wistfully. ‘…Its kind of cute…adorable more like it…’ She inwardly groaned at her own thoughts betraying her. ‘Spike was not cute. Spike was not adorable.’ She repeated the mantra endlessly. Suddenly she realized he was talking again. She had to stop forgetting to listen for that…
“Just trying to do my part, is all. You seem to got so much shit buggering up your life as of late, so I figured I could do a little something, not like I can help with much else.” He was looking at her again, searching for something, this time a little more illusive, something she couldn’t give him, not yet. His head was causally cocked to the side his brow arched, as she met his eyes. Unable to keep it though, Buffy decided against continuing the subject.
“About that shower…” She felt horrible then just from the glance that crossed his face as she denied him acknowledgment. Buffy had wanted to thank him because he was right. Spike was always right when it came to her, but things were too hard now, too clouded in her head for her to be able to give him what he really needed. So she opted for a subject change.
“Yeah…” He chuckled hoarsely lifting his arms from his sides watching the water drip steadily off of him. “Probably got enough dirty water clinging to me now to last a lifetime, love. It can wait ‘til I get back to my crypt, I suppose.” Spike shuffled quickly past her making his way to the top step before she stopped him.
“Don’t be silly.” Buffy crossed her arms in a more friendly than threatening gesture and moved up the stairs and into the kitchen. “I can’t having you walking home smelling like you do now, or else I won’t have any demons to slay on patrol because your stanky ass would have scared them all away.” She smirked down at him playfully, and he would have been pissed. In any normal situation being called a ‘stanky ass’ wouldn’t exactly be high on his list of endearments, but coming from her it sounded like sunshine jokingly spouting from her lips, so he smiled and met her in the kitchen. “After all it is the least I can do.” She graced him with one more teasing smile and then turned and headed away from him.
Spike was awe struck. She was playing with him. Their usual banter was filled to brim loathing and frustration but now it seemed she was turning the tables, finally loosening up enough to actually tease him as a friend would. It was a step in the right direction, Spike was sure.
“This offer won’t last forever, Spike. The shower’s this way,” Buffy called from an unknown point on her way upstairs.
“Coming, Slayer.” With that Spike hurried off after her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to snapdragons who looked over this for me and gave her opinons. Although she helped this is pretty much unbetaed so all mistakes are mine. I was having a lot of trouble deciding whether or not to make this more than a oneshot. So any thoughts on if this should be continued or ideas on where you'd like to see it go would be much appreciated because writer's block is not my friend. Please shoot me an email with any suggestions. Thanks :) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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