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Splinters

Chapter 2 A Firm Grip




‘Do stop moaning!’

‘Oh excuse me!’ Spike mumbled through a mouthful of fingers. ‘ I have splinters down inside my finger nails! Splinters I’ve got from the rotten wood on your porch, Summers. A little sympathy wouldn’t go amiss here, Slayer!’

Buffy sighed. She wanted to sit here on the porch step in the dark and worry about her mother. She wanted to feel sorry for herself, for being the Slayer with an enemy who seemed unbeatable, for having an irritating little sister who wasn’t real, for not being clever like Willow or witty like Xander.

What she didn’t want to have her long time enemy sitting next to her, sucking his fingers and groaning as if his arm was hanging by a thread. And what was he doing here on her porch, anyway?

‘Be quiet! My mum’s not well and Dawn’s asleep. You’ll disturb them both with all that whimpering.’

‘Vampires don’t whimper! I’m being very English and keeping a stiff upper lip in the face of great pain.’

She started to say ‘Nothing about you is stiff, Spike!’ then swallowed hard and was relieved that the night was so dark that he couldn’t see she’d blushed. Why did her mind always run off in such weird directions when she was talking to Spike?

When he wasn’t there, she could see him quite coldly as her mortal enemy, not have any qualms when Xander talked about staking him.

Then, after a day or two of not seeing him, she got irritated with him for not being there. And once he was, she was irritated all over again, but in a different sort of way. A sort of physical, shivery way. Perhaps she was going down with flu.

‘If you could just take your fingers out of your mouth for a few seconds, I could see what was wrong,’ she snapped. ‘You’re acting like a big baby.’

Spike glared at her, the starlight turning his blue eyes to icy grey. Yes, he was in pain, but he’d known a lot worse and was sure he would in the future. But it was worth it because that dreadful aching distress had left Buffy’s face, at least for now.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled his fingers from his mouth, one by one. He smiled inwardly; he could see the confusion in her face, smell the blood as it rose into her cheeks. She would never remember how keen his senses were, how attuned to her every mood.

He held out his hand to her. ‘Have a look, then, Slayer.’

She reached out and took his hand without thinking. It was cold and damp and his fingers were far too long and she would not imagine where else they’d been recently or what they might do....and....

‘Ugghh, revolting, Spike, you’re all sticky with chicken wing grease!’ She flung his hand away and he yelped.

‘That hurt! Look, won’t you just help a chap out here for once, Slayer. I can’t use that hand at all.’

Buffy hesitated. She didn’t want to go to bed. She would only lie there and worry about what the next day would bring. She had to do something to take her mind off her mum, off what she would say to Dawn to explain and comfort her when she discovered their mother had gone into hospital.

‘If I let you into the kitchen, will you promise to be very quiet. And it’s a one off, Spike.’

Spike raised an eyebrow. He’d lost track if he was invited or not into the Summers home at the moment. It would help if they got a bleeding revolving door, he thought as he followed her round to the back of the house.

He threw off his duster, sat at the kitchen table, legs sprawled in front of him, watching lazily as she pulled the kitchen first aid kit out of a drawer.

‘I’ll need to dig out the splinters,’ she said, with altogether far too much joy in her voice for his liking.

‘I’m feeling weak. I may be suffering from shock. I think you should make me some hot chocolate while I dabble my fingers in some nice warm water?’ he suggested.

‘No! The sooner this is over the better. I don’t want you sitting around dabbling your fingers in...well, in anything, Spike! ’

She sat on the other side of the table and he held out his hand. Buffy wrinkled up her nose at the black chipped nail polish. What was it with him and black?

How odd. His nails were actually a nice shape underneath it. They were cut short, not bitten, as she’d imagined they would be. She found a needle in the box and picked up his forefinger to look for the splinter. Why on earth he’d needed to break up the wooden step, goodness knows.

She glanced up to find his brilliant blue gaze fixed on her. For a second or two she felt dizzy. That was what came from not eating this evening, she thought. For getting so upset over her mother who would go into hospital, discover that some silly mistake had been made with X rays or tests, or something, and be home again in a couple of days. There was no need to get dizzy!

‘Ouch! That hurts!’

The needle had jabbed into the fleshy part of Spike’s finger. Buffy sighed.

‘Sorry, but I can’t see properly from this angle. Can’t you turn your hand round the other way?’

‘Oh yes,’ Spike growled. ‘The double jointed vampire, that’s me, folks! See me in any fair ground peep show. Look, do it this way. God, I don’t know what your watcher teaches you. Any self-respecting Slayer should know basic first aid.’

Buffy bit her lip and wondered if her mother would mind if his hand got shut it in the microwave and she turned it onto high!

Then with a speed that never failed to surprise her, he came round the table and was standing behind her, close, far too close - she could feel the chill coming from his body, the hard length of his legs against hers, but as she tried to spin round, his arm slid under hers and there was his hand in front of her, palm towards her.

She took a firm grip and grimly refused to acknowledge who the hand belonged to.

She wouldn’t even think about what she was doing. She was just being kind to a hurt animal, like taking a thorn out of a lion’s paw: she was like a heroine in one of those fables her mother used to read to her when she was little. Eeeyore’s Fables, that was it, she was a heroine in.....

The first splinter sprung upwards on the end of the needle. Then the second, then the third....

‘This little piggy went to market,’ said Spike suddenly bending his forefinger . ‘This little piggy stayed home, this little piggy ate roast beef, this little piggy had none and this little piggy went....’

‘Shut up, Spike!’ For one instant Buffy thought she could feel his breath laughing softly against her cheek, which was stupid because he didn’t breath. She twisted herself free.

‘No more nursery rhymes! You can get the last splinter out yourself, Spike! I’m finished and so are you!’

tbc





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