[Reviews - 17]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 5284 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a fun lighthearted fic I hope you enjoy!
Ok, that thing was ugly. It was beyond ugly. It was plain gross. Eight foot tall and disturbingly slimy looking, with two bulbous heads with pulsating eyes and oozing tentacles sprouting out at erratic intervals.
It was beyond gross. For once Buffy was glad Spike had insisted on coming on patrol with her, there was no way she wanted to touch that thing herself. Vampire dust was one thing, there was no way slime like that would wash out of suede. She patted her jacket protectively.


Spike stood, as always, at her side. His mouth, like hers, was hanging open at the sight of this thing, which, if Buffy wasn’t mistaken, had begun to hum. At least it sounded a bit like humming, only more high pitched and a lot more evil.


“Uh, Spike, do you know what that thing is?” Buffy stepped back as it began to slowly advance.


Spike matched her step. “Not a clue pet, but it sure don’t look like a fluffy puppy.”


Buffy pushed Spike a little in the direction of the thing. “Go on then, kick its ass.”


Spike laughed, “Not bloody likely! You’re the slayer, fancy new jacket or no. Sides, don’t reckon that things got an ass to kick.” Spike tried to peer around it to check, but Buffy pulled him back. The thing apparently couldn't see, despite all the eyes, but obviously had some kind of ears, as it started moving with more purpose, though not much more speed, towards them.


Buffy put on her very best ‘getting round Spike’ voice. “Please Spikey”


“No”.


“Pretty please?”


“No”.


“If you really love me you’ll help protect the thing I love most, my beautiful jacket.”


Spike glared at her “Below the belt Slayer”. The next second he had launched himself at the thing, and was attacking it with gusto.


“Thank you!” Buffy sing songed. She knew it was wrong of her to use his feelings to get what she wanted, but it worked so well, and she knew he wouldn’t really mind, and at the moment the thing she wanted most was to remain slime free.


She perched herself on the edge of a grave to watch the show.



Another reason why she was so keen for Spike to grapple with the monster was because she just loved to watch him fight. He could be so graceful, and then so clumsy, so calculating, and so rash. He was power and passion personified, and there was nothing like it.


Since ‘the incident with the hell bitch and the tower’ (as
Spike had named it) Spike had been coming on patrol with her almost every night. He insisted on it, and she couldn’t deny him. He’d earned it. He’d saved Dawn’s life, breaking pretty much all of his bones in the process. But more than that, he’d saved the world.


He had jumped off the tower before he could be pushed, grabbing some of the scaffold and using it to swing himself back up, to Dawns side. He’d cut her loose, fighting tooth and nail all the while, then jumped again. Taking Dawn with him this time. Buffy had watched it all with horror from below, watched as Spike tucked himself around Dawn and turned the fall, so that it would be him that hit the ground first. Apart from a concussion and a broken wrist Dawn was unhurt, and despite the fact that he couldn’t move without extreme pain Spike had gone on to do what had to be done.
He had taken Ben’s life, so that they could be free of the threat of Glory for good, and so that none of them would have to deal with the emotional effects of killing a human.

The pain from his chip, coupled with the pain from everything else, had made him pass out, just as the sun was rising. They had only just managed to get him inside in time.
Buffy wasn’t good at being grateful sometimes, she worried that being the Slayer, dealing with life and death every day, had made her cold. She had begun to feel that Spike might have been right when he’d said that every Slayer had a death wish. She had gone through so much, lost so much, and life seemed so hard, she had found herself longing sometimes for it all to be over, for her to be at peace. The first slayer had said that death was her gift. She hadn’t understood that at first, but she was beginning to think she did. If Spike hadn’t done what he did she would have given her life, willingly, to save Dawn and the world, but she was so glad it hadn’t come to that.


That night had changed her. Confronted with how much she still had in her life, how much she still had to lose, had made her realise she wasn’t ready yet. The end could wait, she wasn’t done yet. She didn’t want to give up, and Spike had made sure that she had the opportunity to appreciate that.

Since then their relationship had changed. They still wound each other up all the time (because it was so fun) but the respect she felt for Spike, which had been growing steadily, had been cemented. He was the strongest warrior she had on her side, he was her match, physically and mentally. He was her friend.


The others hadn’t been so accepting of the changes in her relationship with the blonde vamp. Whilst they admitted he had proved his usefulness and they didn’t object (much) to his going on patrol with Buffy, they resented the fact that he came round to Buffy’s house sometimes, just to hang out, and she didn’t seem to mind.


Buffy knew he was soulless, an evil thing at heart, and if it wasn’t for the chip in his head he’d be killing and maiming like nobodies business. But he made her laugh, he could get Dawn to do her homework with just a look (or a growl), and he’d proved to be a surprisingly good cook. Plus, he was pretty to look at. All in all he was good to have around.



The slimy thing proved to be more tricky to kill then Buffy had thought it would. The tentacles actually had small razor blade like things jutting out at intervals and Spike was getting a bit bloodied up.
Buffy felt a little bad.

“Uh, pet, little help?”

She didn’t feel that bad.

“You’re doing great! Go Spike!”

Spike grunted. A tentacle swung out of nowhere, and this time it was Spikes beloved duster that bore the brunt.

“BLOODY SODDING HELLING WANKER!!!!!!!” Spike roared.

When Buffy saw the nasty looking shoulder tear she sighed, removed her own jacket, left it folded neatly on a grave and went to help. Spike getting cut was one thing, he wouldn’t care about that, but messing with his duster... well the slimy thing had crossed the line.


Buffy jumped straight in, falling into the synchronised fighting style she and Spike seemed to adopt without realising.


He grinned at her “Nice of you to join me luv, thought you weren’t goin to show”.


She saw his blood and slime streaked face and cracked a grin of her own, “When have I ever let you have all the fun?”


“You never let me have any fun” He pouted at her whilst highkicking the slimy thing in the head (Buffy was impressed, whoever said men couldn’t multitask had never met Spike).



“Aw come on, I let you have the last cookie yesterday!” Punch. Kick. Hurl back at Spike.


Spike rolled his eyes. “Um no pet, you threw the half you couldn’t be bothered to eat at my head, not the same thing.” Headbutt in stomach. Attempt to tackle. Give up. Push back in Buffy’s direction.


The thing cut Buffy on the arm. She yelled in annoyance. The goo got in the cut and it really really stung. “If you kill this thing I’ll give you a whole pack of cookies, deal?”


Spikes eyes brightened. “With a nice warm mug of slayer blood on the side for dunking?”


Buffy glared. “Don’t push it”.


Spike adopted a poor me expression and said sulkily “We need to get it in the eyes”.


“Oh what a great idea! How about you grow three feet and then we might be able to manage it!”


“Hey!” Spike cried in indignation “Two foot three inches! I might not be a hulking great waste of space like captain forehead but at least I don’t have to wear four inch heels to not be a midget!”


Buffy ‘accidently’ hit Spike instead of the thing. “Woops”.


Spike chuckled. “Fancy a piggy back pet?”


Luckily Buffy was on the same wave length as Spike so his request didn’t seem an odd one. She didn’t reply but jumped just as Spike bent down. She landed on his back and in one swift, fluid motion thrust her trusty Mr Pointy straight into the biggest of the bulbous eyes of the thing. It let out a truely horrible noise and sprayed Buffy in a final spurt of yuck before it collapsed.


Buffy jumped off Spikes back “EW EW EW! Did I mention EWWWWW!!!”


“Man up slayer, what doesn’t kill you makes you gross looking.”


This time Buffy definitely didn’t hit Spike by accident.


The thing twitched a couple of times before going completely still.


“Think it’s dead.” Spike gave it a hefty kick for good measure. “Yep. Dead.”


Buffy gave the thing a very annoyed stare. “Good. Look at the state of us! Stupid monster thing.”


Buffy and Spike were covered in a collection of small cuts and copious amounts of goo.


“You coming back to mine to get cleaned up?” They had got into a routine of Spike coming back to Buffy’s after patrol to either get cleaned up or just to chat about the nights events. Sometimes Spike even stayed. It was a situation that had grown organically, but not one that Buffy resented (despite all of Giles and Xander’s protests about it).


“You betcha sweet slayer. I want my cookies.”


“Hey! I killed it, so no cookies for you.”


Spikes mouth dropped open in mock indignation. “But it was my idea!”


“Deals are deals Spikey. The cookies are all mine.” Buffy smiled happily.


“Fine. I wouldn’t have said you needed any high fat foods, but whatever.”


Buffy’s eyes widened almost comically. “Are you calling me fat??!”


Spike’s own eyes twinkled. “No, just sayin my back took a hell of a hit is all. Never realised you were so heavy.”
Before Buffy could punch Spike in the nose he ran away.


She picked up her jacket, making sure to touch as little of it as possible, before taking off after him.


They got back to the house out of breath and laughing. Spike followed Buffy up to the bathroom without needing to be invited and promptly took his shirt off.


The first time he had done this Buffy had been shocked, outraged and, annoyingly, very turned on. She had quickly realised that it made sense for him to be shirtless when his wounds needed cleaning, but, despite his playful insistence and pouting, she never removed hers.


They cleaned each other up with practised ease and almost no awkwardness.
Sure, Buffy found being this close to a half naked Spike a bit flustering, but damn it she was a professional. And without doubt Spike would say something stupid or funny to lighten the tension.


They were almost done. Buffy went to bathe the last, and most ragged looking of Spikes wounds before he finished off hers.

She didn’t notice some of her own blood mingling with his and the last traces of the slimy things goo.



Spike slept on the couch that night. Neither he nor Buffy could get to sleep at first. The feeling that something wasn’t quite right, and a strange itching which didn’t seem to come from anywhere in particular kept them up. When the sky was beginning to lighten outside they both fell into a sudden and simultaneous sleep.





You must login (register) to review.