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Title: Whipping Boy, pt. 2
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike, Xander, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. These belong to Mutant Enemy and its creator, Joss Whedon.
Notes: Anya who? “The Wish” never happened.
Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Spike was worried. Xander had been hit on the head pretty hard last night. And twenty-four hours later, and the boy was still asleep. But it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary – at least the way he was sleeping. Not that Spike ever watched Xander sleep or anything…Beat. Spike quickly went through the mental checklist of a peacefully sleeping Xander: light snorting – check; arse raised in the air ever so slightly – check; just the tiniest trace of drool – check.
So for all intents and purposes, Xander’s sleep was okay. It was the amount that had Spike worried. It’s not normal for a human to sleep that long unless something’s wrong. Although, maybe he was just sleeping off the effects of the brain-whammy he got last night.
“Great!” Spike muttered. “Not only am I keeping watch over one of ‘em, now I’m talkin’ like them. Reputation, be prepared to fire at will.”
And that’s just what Spike had been doing – keeping watch. All the rest of last night, all day today, and now into the evening, he’d done laps around the small basement, stopping every third or fourth round to listen to the boy’s heartbeat and breathing and make sure everything was okay. Now there was a faintly-warn tread on the floor in a huge circle around the ‘apartment’, and Spike’s nerves were about as jumpy as a cat in a dog kennel.
“Spike? Spike, where are you?” And in a flash Spike was there, right next to the bed. He knelt down on the floor and put his elbows on the bed, not quite sure what to do. Even taking care of Dru hadn’t prepared him for this. This was…this was mortal.
“I’m here. I’m right here, Xander.” Xander’s eyes weren’t open, but his arm came out from under the sheet – hand groping for something. Spike instinctively put his hand out and caught Xander’s. Little spark of electricity through the touch. Something was…wrong. But Spike just held on tighter.
“Spike?” Xander’s voice was raspy, and his breath was irregular. His mortal heart was about to beat right up through the blankets. And Spike could feel the heat seeping through Xander’s hand – too hot. Too much. Not right.
“I’m here, Xander. I’m right next to you. Do you need something, pet?” The corners of Xander’s mouth seemed to curl up just a touch. But he still wouldn’t open his eyes. “Why don’t you open your eyes, yeah? Take a look around and see. How bout that, right?”
“Too…tired. So sleepy. Why am I so sleepy, Spike?”
Nothing behind those eyes.
And right before Spike’s eyes, little beads of sweat popped up on Xander’s forehead, and Spike could have sworn before everything unholy that his skin color paled right there in front of him.
“I dunno, pet. I don’t know. But you should wake up, Xander. Let’s get you up and out of bed. Get you over to the watcher so he can find out what’s ailin’ ya, yeah? How’s that sound?”
Xander’s grasp on Spike’s hand loosened ever so slightly. But Spike noticed that his heartbeat was starting to slow. His breathing was becoming a little more regular, if a little ragged.
“I don’t wanna, Spike. I think I’m going to go back to sleep.”
“No! No, you shouldn’t do that, pet. You need to stay awake and here with me. Talk to me, Xander.” Spike’s nerves had reached a new peak. He could feel Xander slipping away, and felt the clammy hand in his grow lax.
“Spike, I’m so tired. We can talk when I wake up. Yeah, I want to talk to you. But I can’t…right now. Jesse’s waiting for me. He needs to talk to me too. I need to go back to sleep. So tired. I just want to slee…” And he was gone.
The hand that Spike held was completely limp- his breathing had gotten back to normal, and his color had returned. His brow was still sheeted with sweat, though. Spike reached up to brush it away, and was amazed at how hot Xander’s skin was.
“Xander…Xander, what’s wrong with you…” Spike muttered.
He got up and paced a few more times, then got a towel out of the bathroom and a bowl from the kitchen, filled it with cold water, soaked the towel in it and returned to Xander with the water and the towel. He placed the towel on Xander’s forehead to try and cool him off.
“Well…guess there’s only one thing left...” Spike went to the telephone, not wanting to leave Xander alone in the basement like this. Luckily next to the phone was a list of numbers. Spike scanned it and found what he was looking for. He picked it up and punched in the number for Giles’ apartment.
“Yeah, Watcher, it’s me. Listen, you need to get to Xander’s place as soon as possible. He’s in…trouble.”
Before the watcher could draw out the conversation, Spike put the reciever back on the cradle and then took it off and laid it beside the phone on the table.
He went back to the bed and knelt on the floor and reached for Xander’s hand again. “Please, pet…just be alright.” Finally the last twenty-odd hours started to weigh on Spike, and his eyes started to feel heavy.
Next Part here.
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike, Xander, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. These belong to Mutant Enemy and its creator, Joss Whedon.
Notes: Anya who? “The Wish” never happened.
“I find that even time well spent gets bent if
you need it to. And we do."
you need it to. And we do."
Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Spike was worried. Xander had been hit on the head pretty hard last night. And twenty-four hours later, and the boy was still asleep. But it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary – at least the way he was sleeping. Not that Spike ever watched Xander sleep or anything…Beat. Spike quickly went through the mental checklist of a peacefully sleeping Xander: light snorting – check; arse raised in the air ever so slightly – check; just the tiniest trace of drool – check.
So for all intents and purposes, Xander’s sleep was okay. It was the amount that had Spike worried. It’s not normal for a human to sleep that long unless something’s wrong. Although, maybe he was just sleeping off the effects of the brain-whammy he got last night.
“Great!” Spike muttered. “Not only am I keeping watch over one of ‘em, now I’m talkin’ like them. Reputation, be prepared to fire at will.”
And that’s just what Spike had been doing – keeping watch. All the rest of last night, all day today, and now into the evening, he’d done laps around the small basement, stopping every third or fourth round to listen to the boy’s heartbeat and breathing and make sure everything was okay. Now there was a faintly-warn tread on the floor in a huge circle around the ‘apartment’, and Spike’s nerves were about as jumpy as a cat in a dog kennel.
“Spike? Spike, where are you?” And in a flash Spike was there, right next to the bed. He knelt down on the floor and put his elbows on the bed, not quite sure what to do. Even taking care of Dru hadn’t prepared him for this. This was…this was mortal.
“I’m here. I’m right here, Xander.” Xander’s eyes weren’t open, but his arm came out from under the sheet – hand groping for something. Spike instinctively put his hand out and caught Xander’s. Little spark of electricity through the touch. Something was…wrong. But Spike just held on tighter.
“Spike?” Xander’s voice was raspy, and his breath was irregular. His mortal heart was about to beat right up through the blankets. And Spike could feel the heat seeping through Xander’s hand – too hot. Too much. Not right.
“I’m here, Xander. I’m right next to you. Do you need something, pet?” The corners of Xander’s mouth seemed to curl up just a touch. But he still wouldn’t open his eyes. “Why don’t you open your eyes, yeah? Take a look around and see. How bout that, right?”
“Too…tired. So sleepy. Why am I so sleepy, Spike?”
Nothing behind those eyes.
And right before Spike’s eyes, little beads of sweat popped up on Xander’s forehead, and Spike could have sworn before everything unholy that his skin color paled right there in front of him.
“I dunno, pet. I don’t know. But you should wake up, Xander. Let’s get you up and out of bed. Get you over to the watcher so he can find out what’s ailin’ ya, yeah? How’s that sound?”
Xander’s grasp on Spike’s hand loosened ever so slightly. But Spike noticed that his heartbeat was starting to slow. His breathing was becoming a little more regular, if a little ragged.
“I don’t wanna, Spike. I think I’m going to go back to sleep.”
“No! No, you shouldn’t do that, pet. You need to stay awake and here with me. Talk to me, Xander.” Spike’s nerves had reached a new peak. He could feel Xander slipping away, and felt the clammy hand in his grow lax.
“Spike, I’m so tired. We can talk when I wake up. Yeah, I want to talk to you. But I can’t…right now. Jesse’s waiting for me. He needs to talk to me too. I need to go back to sleep. So tired. I just want to slee…” And he was gone.
The hand that Spike held was completely limp- his breathing had gotten back to normal, and his color had returned. His brow was still sheeted with sweat, though. Spike reached up to brush it away, and was amazed at how hot Xander’s skin was.
“Xander…Xander, what’s wrong with you…” Spike muttered.
He got up and paced a few more times, then got a towel out of the bathroom and a bowl from the kitchen, filled it with cold water, soaked the towel in it and returned to Xander with the water and the towel. He placed the towel on Xander’s forehead to try and cool him off.
“Well…guess there’s only one thing left...” Spike went to the telephone, not wanting to leave Xander alone in the basement like this. Luckily next to the phone was a list of numbers. Spike scanned it and found what he was looking for. He picked it up and punched in the number for Giles’ apartment.
“Yeah, Watcher, it’s me. Listen, you need to get to Xander’s place as soon as possible. He’s in…trouble.”
Before the watcher could draw out the conversation, Spike put the reciever back on the cradle and then took it off and laid it beside the phone on the table.
He went back to the bed and knelt on the floor and reached for Xander’s hand again. “Please, pet…just be alright.” Finally the last twenty-odd hours started to weigh on Spike, and his eyes started to feel heavy.
Next Part here.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
Re: Heh
Tara could have been with Buffy. I can see Buffy as a lesbian.
From:
Re: Heh
Heh...who couldn't?
From:
Re: Heh
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Re: Heh
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Re: Heh
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Re: Heh
*flails and dies*
No more fic for you!
From:
Re: Heh
Nooooo! My worst nightmare come true! *sniffle*
Fine. But if I don't get fic then you get no nekkid boys.
*puts clothes on all the nekkid boys in the whole world*
From:
Ouch.
From:
Re: Ouch.
That better?
From:
Re: Ouch.
From:
Re: Ouch.
Boys are stinky poos though, apart from gay boys. Especially the hot ones.
From:
Re: Ouch.
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Re: Ouch.
The good ones are the best. *sniffle* My bestest friend in the whole wide world, but he's in Italy on a holiday so I'm all lonely.
From:
Re: Ouch.
From:
Re: Ouch.
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Re: Ouch.
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Re: Ouch.
Nice boys are great, but I'm on a boy diet. Stupid boys that pretend to be nice but aren't.
From:
Re: Ouch.
From:
Re: Ouch.
*growls*
What I wouldn't give for an actual nice boy!
From:
Re: Ouch.
From:
no subject
Why is your nice guy dating an asshole? Does he know he's an asshole?
From:
no subject
No, he doesn't know he's dating an asshole. At least, he doesn't believe it.
From:
no subject
I hate it when they don't want to admit they're assholes. Makes it frustrating and so very hard to get through!