Title: Play Ball
Author: Pattyanne
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS characters
belong to me.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hospital smut. Spike Richardson
is the star pitcher for the San Francisco
Demons He's hit by a car, and winds up as
one of nurse Buffy Summer's patients.
Feedback: I'll cry if you don't.
***********************************
The Fourth Inning: The Swing!
He grinned back at her, charming her right
out of ANY future notions of detachment.
"You mean it?" he asked, his blue eyes as
anxious as a child's. "You'll go out with me?"
Slipping her hands into the pockets of her
sweater, she moved to stand closer to the
bed. "What you asked before, about me dating
patients? I really don't. It's just....it's not a good
idea to get involved that way. And I shouldn't..."
"But you will," he interjected. "You said it. Can't take
it back now."
"I know." She sighed. "And I don't want to take it
back."
His grin became even more boyishly cute. "Because
you like me?"
"Yes," she said, laughing just a bit. "I like you."
"And we should get to know each other better?" he
added.
"I guess so." She took a closer look at him and noticed
that his eyes were a little overly bright, almost glassy.
That observation sent her right into 'nurse' mode, and
she placed her hand on his forehead. "You're a little
warm."
"You're telling ME!"
"No, I mean it," she said, pushing away the hand that
was trying to grab hold of hers. "I'll be right back."
"I'm fine...don't go....come on, angel nurse.."
She shook her head and ordered him to be still
until she returned with the thermometer.
When the gadget beeped, she wasn't surprised at
the result. "You're running a fever." She made a
quick note in his chart. "I have to put in a call to
Doctor Phillips."
"Oh, not him," Spike complained. "I saw him this
morning. He has cold, clammy hands." He gave her
an appealing look. "Can't YOU just take care of me? I
mean, it's not serious, is it? I feel fine."
"Probably not," she said. "It's not unusual to run a bit
of a fever after a surgical procedure, but I still have
to let him know about it and he'll okay treatment."
"What sort of treatment?"
"Most likely acetaminophen and a tepid bed
bath to cool you down some."
That information perked him right up. "A bed bath?
Given by angel-nurse?"
Buffy tried hard to subdue her smile. "Yes."
"Call him."
*********************************
Ten minutes later she returned to his room,
placing her supplies on the bedside table.
"Are you in pain?"
"No," he shook his head. "Not a bit. Is it bath time?"
"Medicine first." She handed him a small cup
containing two white tablets, and his water. "Take
them, please."
He swallowed them down obediently, watching her
fill a plastic basin at the sink. She placed it back on
the table, then pulled the curtain all the way around,
cutting them off from view of anyone passing by.
After adjusting his position, she placed thick towels
around him to prevent any of the water from dampening
his bed. "Lean forward a bit," she instructed, then untied
the fastenings of his hospital gown and let it drop around
his waist.
Trying to ignore the hard, well cut muscle of his chest
and abdomen and concentrate on her job, Buffy dipped
her wash cloth into the lukewarm water, then picked up
his left arm and washed it from shoulder to wrist, being
careful not to disturb the wrappings around the sprain.
"Can I ask you a question?" Spike's voice was soft, and
a little husky.
"Yes." Buffy repeated her ministrations on his right
arm.
"If you never date your patients....why would you
date me?"
She shrugged. "Don't know."
"You said you like me," he reminded her. "Why?"
"Are you fishing for compliments, Mr. Richardson?"
"Yes."
She smiled. How could she not, with him being so
darn adorable? "Does it matter WHY I like you?"
Now it was his turn to shrug. "Not really. As long as
you do."
"Good."
"But tell me anyway."
Running the cloth gently over his shoulders, Buffy
considered her answer. "Oh...because it was cute
when you thought God had thrown you into hell and
slammed the gate after you."
He chuckled. "I was really out of it, wasn't I?"
"You were," she nodded. Taking a deep but silent
breath, she re-dipped the cloth and placed it on his
chest.
"Well," he persisted. "Is that the ONLY reason?"
Hardly. "No."
"What else?"
The washcloth moved over the flat disc of his
nipple. She felt the sensation make him tense up
a little as he inhaled sharply.
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" she evaded. Looking up,
she caught him staring at her hand on his body.
"I...I wouldn't describe what I'm feeling as pain, no,"
he said quietly, glancing back up at her.
Buffy's hand went perfectly still for a moment when
their eyes met. "Did Doctor Phillips explain what
he did in surgery?" she asked, continuing to smooth
the tepid washcloth over his skin as she attempted
to distract herself by changing the subject.
There was a short pause, as if he was giving careful
consideration to his next move. "Yeah. He said it wasn't
a terribly bad break. He put a pin or something in. Said
it won't keep me out of the game, but I'll probably miss
the first part of spring training."
She nodded, avoiding his gaze. "You're very fortunate
that it wasn't worse."
"I know. If I couldn't play ball anymore...." He let the
sentence trail off.
Buffy picked it up. "If you couldn't play ball any-
more...what? What would you do?"
He thought for a moment. "I dunno," he finally
said. "S'pose I'd have to figure something else
out that I like just as much. Right now, playing
ball is pretty much what I like best. And I'm
damn good at it."
"Modesty is SUCH an endearing trait," she mur-
mured, continuing to apply her cloth.
"But false modesty is annoying and pretentious,"
he countered with a cocky smile. "Don't you
think you're a damn good nurse?"
"Yes...but I don't go around SAYING I'm a damn
good nurse."
"It's not the money, you know. There's already
more of THAT in the bank than one person could
ever spend."
"And there it is again."
"What? I'm not bragging. It's just a fact."
She scooted down a little, then pulled the
blankets off his uninjured leg, making sure he was
properly covered in the right place. "So, it's all
for the love of the game?"
"Uh-huh," he nodded. "Well, that and the babes."
"Excuse me?"
"Girls love ball players. Hey, I'm teasing you.
Don't stop."
A spurt of laughter parted her lips. "I think you're
a little bit incorrigible."
"I'm VERY incorrigible." He watched her drop the
washcloth into the basin and reach for a dry towel.
"What, it's not finished already, is it?"
"'Fraid so."
"But you were just getting to the good part."
Buffy gently patted his leg dry, then whisked the
towel lightly over his chest. "Sorry about that."
"Well, I don't think I'm clean yet."
"That wasn't the purpose of the bath."
He grabbed her hand and placed it on his brow. "Do
I feel warm to you?"
"Not really, no."
"Oh, come on, angel nurse. A fever doesn't get
cured THAT fast," he insisted.
"It was a low grade fever," she said.
Spike grinned. "Well, if THAT'S all that's holding
you back I can send it sky high."
Before Buffy could even think of a reply, he
tugged on her hand, bringing her closer, cap-
turing her lips beneath his.
Although her hands were flat on his chest, she
couldn't even begin to try and fend him off. His
mouth was warm and tasted faintly of apples and
cinnamon, a flavor left over from the dessert on
his lunch tray.
When she felt the first light touch of his tongue,
she realized it wasn't him she might need to
struggle against, but the burgeoning desire she
was fast developing to climb into bed next to him,
to press herself against hard muscle and firm, bare
skin.
His slipped one hand around the back of her neck,
deepening the kiss even further, murmuring some-
thing against her lips that she couldn't understand.
Breaking apart for air was almost painful.
Panting, he pressed his forehead against hers and
closed his eyes. "You're amazing," he whispered,
"and I want you."
Buffy had no defense for it. "That works out nicely,
then. I want you, too."
"Buffy...angel...." His hands rubbed up and down
her shoulders. She could feel their warmth all the
way through her sweater.
"We...we have to stop," she said weakly. "You'll have
a relapse."
"No, I promise I won't. Don't stop."
The husky quality of his voice begging her to stay
close was madly compelling. She was literally one
kiss away from sinking into it without another thought,
when the PA crackled and she was called back to the
nursing station.
"I'll be back," she promised, dragging herself away
and gathering up the bath supplies.
"When?" he whispered, trying to catch hold of her
again.
"As soon as I can."
*********************************
He let her go with as much good grace as he could
muster up. Much as he would prefer to be the sole
focus of her attention, he understood that she had
other patients.
Right before she left the room, he spoke up. "Buffy?"
She hovered in the doorway for a moment, waiting.
He'd always been a great believer in saying exactly
what was on his mind, in spite of the fact that this
philosophy had been known to backfire on him at
times. "I feel something," he said, laying one hand
on his heart. "Right here...you know?"
"I know," she smiled. "Me, too."
After she was out the door, Spike leaned back in
his bed and stared at the ceiling, his arms behind
his head on the pillow. **A swing and a hit!**
Life was good.
******************************
"I only have a minute."
Buffy dashed back into the room and through the
closed curtain. She sat down on the side of his bed
and they picked up where they'd left off.
Their kissing was much more urgent this time, harder
and fiercer.
In the hallway, a call bell buzzed. "That's for me,"
she said, kissing him one last time and slipping free
when he tried to tighten his hold on her. "I'll be back."
Part of him wanted to protest this loud and long,
but common sense advised him to hold his tongue
and release her.
That scenario was repeated several more times
during Buffy's shift. She moved through her duties
with smooth efficiency, returning to his room in
between each one for what amounted to an
abbreviated make-out session.
She pulled away from him at one point, looking
concerned. "I'm sorry, is this bothering you? All
this starting and stopping?"
With a negative shake of his head, he shrugged.
"I'll take what I can get."
Buffy gave him one more kiss. "Good. I'll be
back."
"I'll be here."
"Very funny."
**************************************
"It's almost time for....for shift change."
"Oh, don't tell me that," Spike protested, moving
his mouth down the soft column of her throat.
Buffy instantly lost her train of thought, but
retained enough sanity to move away when she
heard Elena talking to someone in the hall before
coming in.
"Staying late again tonight, Elizabeth?"
"I'm just getting a bit of overtime."
"Who okayed overtime?"
"Um...well, no one. It's....well, he wants some
private duty nursing, and the holidays are coming
up, so....I took the job."
"Did you chart his vitals?"
"Oh, yes," Buffy replied, hoping the other nurse
wouldn't check to see for herself.
"Fine with me, then. Less wear and tear on my
support hose," Elena said as she left the room.
Spike grinned hugely at Buffy. "Does that mean
you have to do whatever I say?"
"Only in your dreams."
***************************************
"Buffy....honey....as much as...mmm...as much as
I love doing this..." The last word made his voice
break when she bit down gently on his ear lobe.
"....it's getting late and...I wouldn't you to...be too
tired....to work tomorrow." Each comment was
punctuated with a kiss.
"Don't worry." she pulled away. "Tomorrow's
my day off."
No angel-nurse tomorrow? He hated hearing that,
but he forced himself not to complain. "Is it? And
what does angel-nurse do on her day off?"
"Oh...different things. I have two days off each
week, but they're not always in a row. So...one
of them I usually devote to the necessities of
life...running errands, going to the market, house
cleaning, that kind of thing."
"And the other one?"
"The other one I usually devote to me. I'll go
shopping, get my hair done, maybe a manicure.
Sometimes I spoil myself and go to a day spa
for a massage, a sea weed wrap and a facial."
"Now, THAT'S something I'D like to do for you."
"What, the facial?"
He chuckled deep in his throat. "The massage.
I'll leave the girly stuff to the professionals."
"Hey, a facial isn't just for girls. Plenty of men
get them, too."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah!"
********************************
TBC....
Next...The Fifth Inning: First Base!
[Reviews - 45]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 2851 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +