Hold Me Thrill Me Kiss Me Kill Me

“What the bloody hell were you girls thinking? Infecting Buffy with a super version of the flu that had already put her in the hospital! For god's sake! Did you even stop to think of the consequences?”

Even Spike winced at the Watcher's tone. Giles was, as Xander would say, “totally wigging out.” In a way, Spike understood why the Slayer had pushed Red to dose her with the virus. She needed to see the Kinder-whatever, and she'd needed to get sick in a hurry to do it.

But Giles and Ethan had been on their way to the hospital with a spell that would have let the Slayer see the damn thing without infecting herself with Captain Tripps. ‘Course, one or two of the munchkins could have been made into a snack but Spike figured, once the thing had picked up the first nipper to take a bite out of, the Slayer could have felt around for it or something. No need to go and make herself all snotty and disgusting.

Xander was wearily leaning against Spike and the older man was glad that the Watcher's ire was not directed at his boy. For the past two days Xander, Willow and Cordelia had been guarding the Slayer while she was ill, only taking a break to sleep and go to school. Then either Ethan or Spike had kept watch. Spike himself had not seen Angelus, but the day before Ethan had looked particularly grim.

Of course, it hadn't helped that whenever she got a chance Buffy would slip out of her room and wander around the hospital. Daft bint still hadn't realized the danger she'd been in. And now she was sick again, thanks to her and Red.

And Buffy was running out of excuses. “But...but! The Kinderstod was going eat the kids! I couldn't let that happen! And I had to have a fever to see him and you guys didn't tell me you were coming and....”

Giles was giving her his disappointed look and Spike felt sorry for the girl, for just a moment. She had been sick, after all.

Buffy stood there for a moment and then pointed behind Giles. “LOOK! MONKEYS!”

Any grain of sympathy Spike had for the chit quickly faded. The girl was stupid to think the Watcher would fall for that. Either that or the fever had burned up one too many brain cells in that blond head of hers. Giles took of his glasses and gave her a look and the Slayer looked down in shame, fiddling with the blankets on her hospital bed.

“Well, it worked when Willow did it when those orderly guys were after me!”

Willow patted her on the shoulder. “I---I think it worked better with frogs. You know, since America actually has frogs. I haven't seen that many monkeys in Southern California so it's harder to believe...and I'll be stopping now.”

Willow's support of Buffy withered under Giles's glare. “What you fail to realize is that we need to work as a team. Buffy, I know you are the Slayer, and that's a lot of responsibility. And yes, usually Slayers work alone, but you don't. I can't help but believe that is one of your greatest strengths and has kept you alive longer than any other Slayer. It's when you go off...half-cocked, as it were, believing that you are the only one who can do something. And Willow, while it is admirable that you tried to help her, simply diluting the virus in water may not have been enough. Buffy is still sick, and if it weren't for her special constitution she might have died!!”

The Watcher's ire faded a bit under the power of the girl's teary eyes and Giles sighed. “Well, what's done is done. At the very least, Ethan has found a spell that will ward the hospital grounds from vampires. That means we do not have to worry about Angelus attacking you while you are recuperating.”

“Right.” Now that the Watcher wasn't throwing a wobbly, Spike spoke up. “Time to get this one to bed.” He put an arm around Xander and tried to wake up him.

“Eeww! Spike! I so didn't need to hear about your and Xander's sexual practices! I'm sick enough already!”

“To bed, you stupid bint! My boy's been here most of the time you've been wandering around in a bloody daze trying to keep your neck in one piece! Cheerleader is right done in, too!” Spike made a motion with his head to where Cordelia was sleeping curled up in a chair.

Giles stood up. “Yes, it is high time that we left Buffy to her rest as well. Especially since visiting hours are long over and if we're caught we'll have to deal with one of the many overbearing Sisters that Sunnydale General seems to hire.”

Willow paused in gathering up her coat and things. “Sisters?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Nurses. In England, senior nurses are called Sisters.”

Buffy was snuggling down in her bed. “Why can’t you English people speak actual English?”

Spike shared a look with Giles and he could hear the other man swear under his breath about “Bloody Americans!” as he worked on getting Cordelia aware enough to move.

Spike, meanwhile, had his hands full of a sleepy Xander. “Come on, pet, let's get you home.”

“Mprf? Spike? We can go home now? The Kindergarten Monster isn't going to eat anyone? Izzit hot in here?”

“Christ.” Spike felt Xander's forehead and swore a blue streak. “Good going, Red. You not only gave the Slayer the superflu, you've got Xan infected as well.”

“Good Lord! Cordelia has a fever too. If you've got Xander, I'll take her out. She can stay with Ethan and me. I'm afraid Ethan has taken a shine to her, which admittedly keeps me awake in terror at night. Willow, I'd best take you home before you get ill as well. I'll ring and check on you in the morning.”

“Spike? We going somewhere?” Xander's voice was slurred as Spike picked him up. It was awkward; while Spike had the strength to do it, Xander was a solid, gangly boy who was putting on more height and more muscle nearly every day. He was already a bit taller than Spike and still growing. Added to that was the fact that Xander was trying to curl around him. “Mmmf. You're all nice and cool. Feels good.”

Spike rolled his eyes and left the girls to the Watcher. The Mage was around somewhere; Spike could feel the currents of magic being cast around the hospital like static. Xander opened one eye and and looked at Spike as he ducked into the stairwell. “I don't wanna grow gills, Spike, that wouldn't be fun. And you wouldn't like how I smelled. Fish smells after three days, you know. You’d throw me out and then I'd have to try to date a flounder.”

“Fucking hell!” Spike was beginning to worry. Xander was starting to babble and Spike didn't know if it was because the boy was sick, sleepy or turning loonier. While Xander had a hold of most of his abilities, thanks to the Watcher and his Mage, the boy still didn't touch people or things like he used to, and he still had a few visions during the day. Xander now had a reputation for daydreaming in class and his grades were suffering in even the courses that he was good at.

He made it down to the ground floor and looked before running as quickly as was possible with a squirming human in his arms. “No! No, Spike, you'll get fried! The blue electricity will fry you and you smoke enough already!”

Spike rolled his eyes but when he crossed the threshold of the exit of the hospital he felt the crackling of magic more closely. It made him feel better. Xander was seeing the things he normally saw; he was just too tired and sick to realize that not everyone saw blue sparkling magics around protection spells.

Xander was still fretting about Spike getting fried as he propped the boy up against the side of his DeSoto and maneuvered him into the passenger seat. “There, there, Xan. I'm not fried. See?”

“No, it wasn't you, it was another Spike. He burned. I don't like seeing any Spikes burning. Promise me you won't burn!"

Xander was nearly in tears, which wasn't a pretty sight. “No, pet, I won't burn. I promise.”

“Good. You don't need a soul, I like you just like you are. Can I have some orange juice when we get home? My throat hurts.”

Spike closed the door after strapping his younger lover in and went round to get in the driver's seat. “Sure. We'll have to stop at the chemist’s or something for it. Get you some tissues so you don't snot on yourself.”

As he pulled out of his parking space, Spike was making a mental list of what he'd need to take care of a sick and delirious human since the fever was evidently causing Xander to spend more time out of his mind than in it.

Next chance he got, he was going to put a dead frog in Red's purse. And maybe let the Slayer get her arse kicked just a little by Angelus's minions before riding to the rescue like a fucking white hat. He so was going to owe them pain. Because, as much as he loved Xander, putting up with his whinging and his bloody visions would be a pain in the arse.

“I can't go to college here, either. If I do, you'll stay and your brain will be microwaved. Can't let that happen. I like your brain uncooked. When you go in, will you get me some chicken soup too?”

Spike sighed. “Yeah, I'll get your bloody soup. The kind with the extra noodles, even.” Putting up with a loopy Xander wasn't all that bad, he supposed. How could Spike object to taking care of someone who, even sick, was more worried about Spike than himself?

Xander coughed and it had a wet sound to it. Spike dug through his pocket and found an old rag and handed it to his lover. “Here, use that. Just...don't touch anything, okay, luv?”

Xander took it. “I'm glad you like me now instead of later, Spike, even if you made a cute cat.”

Spike rolled his eyes again. He was doing that a lot lately. “Whatever you say, Xander. Whatever you say.”

Oh yeah, Red and Buffy would pay.

*****

“Xander! What happened? Did Spike maul you before school again?”

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Wills. You’re just a great big bucket of funny. I'll have you know that I was just accosted by, um, some form of locker monster. And my homework from last week is in there!” Xander turned to Buffy. “You don't think anything would eat it, do you?”

Buffy sat down at the library table. “I seriously doubt any monster is interested in your short stories, Xan. Then again, something tried to eat Johnathon last week so who knows?”

Giles was putting books up on the shelf and was in his absentminded librarian mode. Xander went behind the desk and got the folding chair he'd bought to use in the library down at K-mart. Ten dollars was worth shelling out to not get into his friends’ heads.

“Couldn't the locker monsters have attacked next week? Or better yet, last week when I was out!” Today was only his second day back at school, and Cordelia was still out sick. It was kinda weird, being at school without her. He hadn't gotten his recommended amount of daily sarcasm.

“Uh, did you say Loch Ness Monster?”

“Nope, Xander actually said locker monster, as in a giant green arm shot out of his locker and tried to drag him in. It's pretty much any geek's worst nightmare come true so he's a bit traumatized. But when we opened the locker again it was gone. Nothing. Un-armed.”

Xander groaned. “Buffy, your jokes will make me sick again and Spike will fuss. You don't want that happening, do you?” He'd spent a week sick and halfway in and out of visions, never quite sure what was real. Other than Spike, that is. Buffy had brought over some home made vegetable soup her Mom had made in apology for making him so sick and for a few minutes he'd seen her with really bad raccoon eyes make up and a scar on her lip.

Spike, in order to deal with him, had turned into Supernanny on acid. Which was good; Xander was glad that Spike didn't mind taking care of him but, once he’d started feeling better, being fussed over and snarked at all at once had nearly been too much.

He'd actually looked forward to going back to school!

Giles stood up and started looking through his books. “Sounds like some sort of paranormal phenomenon.”

“Ooh! Cool! A ghost!” Willow bounced in her seat and was just way too chipper about the unquiet dead.

“Uh-uh. This was no Casper. So not cool. This was a “I'm dead as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore” type of ghost.”

Giles started passing out books and Xander found himself staring at one with a shrouded form with no face on the front. Who drew the covers to these things, anyway? “That's a rather accurate description of a poltergeist. It's German for “Noisy Ghost” or “Noisy Spirit”. Still, see if you can find any spirit that causes physical manifestations. I'm afraid there isn't much we can do about a poltergeist.”

Buffy looked up from the book she had just opened. “What? We can call that little short woman with the glasses and get her to come clean the school?”

Xander and Willow snickered as Giles huffed. “Please, Buffy. By now you should know that most, if not all, of the phenomena shown on television and movies is not how these things work in real life. A poltergeist usually centers around one individual or household, usually with a pre-teen or teenager. Some say that it's caused by, uh, well—sexual tension....”

“Well, then why was it bugging Xander? He gets laid more than some adults I know!”

“BUFFY!!” Xander just knew he was bright red. While it was true he and Spike were very...affectionate with each other, it wasn't like they made out like bunnies or anything. Besides, lately he was just too sick to care. “Can we talk about my sex life some other time? Like never?”

Giles actually made a motion with his hand. “I vote never.” If Xander hadn't been so totally embarrassed he would have laughed at the older man. The tips of his ears were pink.

“So, we have some bad boo on our hands?” Buffy had stopped laughing at him, but wasn't looking at him either. He so was helping Spike plan revenge on her for making him sick. As if hacking up a lung and snot balls the size of his fist weren't enough, she had to go and embarrass him too.

Giles opened his book. “It seems likely.”

Willow pushed her hair out of her face. “So, why is it here? Do ghosts just like scaring people? Do they have, like, a quota of people they have to scare or something?”

Giles pushed his glasses up on his nose further and went into lecture mode and Xander tried not to groan. “Well, most spirits move on after death. The common haunting usually hasn't anything to do at all with the deceased, it's...well, you know how Xander can now pick up on things when he touches people or objects?”

Willow nodded and Giles continued. “That is how most hauntings work; something rather terrrible or...emotionally impacting, I guess one would say, happens and it leaves a sort of psychic fingerprint on the building or land. If it's suitably terrible, even people who are psychically blind can pick up on it, and for someone like Xander it would be...”

“Hellish?” Xander winced at the thought. He didn't think even Giles knew how bad it could be sometimes. It made him wiggy just being in the Library at times. It was like the Hellmouth itself mocked him.

“Yes.” Giles shot him an apologetic look and Xander just shrugged. “Then there are the hauntings by people who do not realize they are dead. These people go about doing the same things they did in life. Turning on the television at a certain time, or climbing into bed. It's rather annoying for the living people who share their space but there is nothing malevolent in it. Then there are a few spirits who are rather, well, rude, I suppose is the only way I can put it. They refuse to leave, even if they know they are dead.”

Xander snorted. “Why do I have a mental image of some guy in a sheet clinging to a house screaming, “MINE!”

Giles chuckled. “Because that is basically correct. As the saying goes, you can't take it with you when you’re gone, so they refuse to go.” He started flipping through the book. “This spirit, though, sounds like it might be confused rather than hurtful. Sometimes a spirit knows that there is something wrong but can't work out quite what. Just like us, they feel emotion and get upset, angry, frustrated...”

Buffy leaned back in her chair. “Great. We've got Casper the not-so friendly ghost having a temper tantrum!”

Willow looked at Giles, her eyes wide. “That sounds scary! For the ghost, I mean. Not that it would be nice for us, either. What do we do? Is there any way to stop it?”

“Well, we can try to find out who this spirit is and try to help it resolve its issues.”

“Yay, we're Dr. Laura for the sheet set.” Buffy turned a look on Xander. “Can you get on the psychic phone line and figure out who this ghostie is?”

Xander raised his hands. “Oh no! Not unless it's the last resort. So not sticking my brain in a light socket for this! Investigation first, crystal ball later.”

Buffy harrumphed and sat back in her chair. “You're no fun. Can't you just pull out a Ouija Board or something?”

“Good gods, no!” Giles answered for him before Xander could even open his mouth. “Those blasted things are dangerous! They leave you wide open psychically for just about any wandering spirit. And on the Hellmouth?!”

Xander snickered, glad that Giles was backing him up. “Yeah, Buffy, I could end up dialing Cthulhu's unlisted number or something.”

“Huh?”

Giles sighed. “It's from Lovecraft, Buffy. Pay no attention to him; he's being facetious. Now, read. We must find out what type of spirit this is, be it misguided soul or poltergeist, before anyone is seriously hurt.”

*****