Shot in the Dark

* * * * *
Chapter 7: The Morning After
* * * * *


A warm glow begins to fill Buffy’s room. Buffy squints her eyes, seeing by the amount of light that it is just after dawn. She begins to stretch, but quickly recoils, flinching. Her hand finds her side quickly, where a low burning pain reminds her of one of the previous night’s events. She turns a bit, trying to get a look at the place she was stabbed. The wound is opened again, and still a bit red around the edges. Buffy freezes, noticing several things all at once. First, she is completely naked. Second, she is covered in small bites and scratches and is incredibly sore in some very interesting places. Third, the cause of the first two things is sound asleep in matching condition next to her, one leg draped over hers. And that cause is none other than Spike.

“Oh, dear god.” Buffy covers her mouth as images from last night’s adventures begin rolling through her mind at light speed. Her cheeks flush red. Inexplicably, she also feels a warmth somewhere much lower. She glances at Spike’s rumpled blond curls and has to resist the urge to reach out and run her hand through them. His face at rest is a thing of beauty and she cocks her head, studying him. In all their time fighting and nearly killing each other, she has never seen him at peace like this. Those cheekbones you could cut yourself on, his full, soft lips. The eyes full of blue fire she remembers vividly from last night. A small sigh escapes Buffy, torn between longing and regret. Reluctantly, she pulls her eyes away and looks around the room for a robe. In her shock at waking up entangled with Spike, she did not previously notice the state of her room. Most of the covers from the bed are yanked off and crumpled on the floor. A nightstand is knocked over, lamp broken, closet door off the hinges, cracked mirror, various knick knacks strewn all over the carpet... Buffy shakes her head at the damage as well as her vivid memories of how most of the damage was done. They broke more things than they ever in in a fight. Not to mention the having of a lot more fun.

Finally, she spots her short gray robe draped over a chair in the corner. Now, to disentangle herself. Biting her lip, Buffy tries to out out from under Spike’s leg. He starts to move and she freezes in place, watching his face closely. Shifting a little, he settles back down, turning his head the other way. Revealing the series of hickeys down the side of his neck. Buffy inwardly groans at her handiwork. Finally, with one continuous movement, she extricates herself from the bed and tip toes towards the corner. She reaches out for the robe and...

“ ’Morning. ” He’s awake and his voice is like syrup, dripping over her. Buffy freezes, not sure what to do. Then realizing her bare butt is on display, she snatches the robe and throws it on before turning around. “Spoiling the view, Slayer.” Taking a deep breath, Buffy turns to see the face she remembers. Smirking, eyebrow lifted at her. She feels that familiar warmth somewhere below her navel at his gaze.

“Sorry.” Desperate for distraction, Buffy starts to pick up a few things from the floor. As she bends over, an involuntary gasp slips out and she grabs her side again.

In a flash, Spike is out of bed and by her side. “Bugger all, luv. You’re still hurt. Shouldn’t be out of bed.” He winks at her and before she can swallow it, Buffy smiles at him. The smiles turns back to a grimace as another pain shoots up her side.

Slightly out of breath, Buffy manages, “Nice try.” She takes another breath and has to bend over at the waist again. “Oh crap, looks like you’re right.” Shrugging off his arm for support, Buffy struggles back to the bed and sits down. “Doesn’t usually take me this long to heal...it’s weird.”

“Buffy, when’s the last time you...uh...” Spike gestures around the room, his meaning evident. “...immediately after acquiring a knife wound? And, somewhere in the neighborhood of six times?”

The blush returns to Buffy’s cheeks. “Point taken.” A weak laugh. “Literally, I guess.“ More quietly, “Was it six times?” Her blush returns with a vengeance.

He nods before turning his attention back to her injury. “Let’s have a look at it.”

Buffy sits up, her voice unnaturally high, “Look at what?!”

Spike gives her an exasperated look. “The injury, pet?”

“Oh, right.” Buffy is terrified of letting Spike touch her again. Her self-control in his presence is not of the good. In fact, his current state of nakedness is wreaking havoc on her ability to string sentences together. A voice in her head is telling her she should be throwing him out of her house. However, she can’t even bring herself to throw him out of her bed. Though throwing him ON her bed seems like a fun idea. She shakes her head, coming back to the present situation.

“Lay back.” She nods and shimmies up the bed a bit, laying back on her pillow. Spike reaches out, gently untying the sash and sliding the silk apart. His cool fingers brush her stomach, triggering Buffy’s rapid intake of breath. “Not gonna hurt you, luv.”

Quietly, Buffy replies, “Not worried about you hurting me.” He flicks a look at her, full of telltale signals, but she studiously avoids his gaze. Spike pushes one side of the robe open to see the wound.

“Bloody hell, Slayer. It’s open again. Y’know, I was gonna dress this for you last night...before...um, didn’t it hurt you before now?” Their conversation is strained as they dodge the topic weighing on both their minds.

Still avoiding his piercing blue eyes, Buffy fidgets with the sash of her robe. “Think I was on a bit of adrenaline or something. Like when I’m in a big fight, I don’t feel any pain. Kinda like that... Didn’t feel it ‘til I woke up.” Buffy risks a look at Spike, but regrets it immediately. The flush runs right up her neck and into her cheeks. She sees his throat bob as he swallows hard.

“Right.” Looking away, she is not prepared for what comes next. Spike’s fingers gingerly touch the area around her stab wound. She flinches, but only from surprise. He is being incredibly gentle, probing the area. “Probably be fine if it gets wrapped up tight. Keep it from opening again. Healing skills like yours...all better in no time.”

Buffy realizes that Spike is nervous too. It never occurred to her that he could be. He is also trying not to look at her too much. It is his habit to breathe like a human and she realizes his breaths are a bit short and fast. The muscles in his jaw are twitching.

“Spike?”

“Yes?”

“What happened?”

“You got stabbed, pet. Vampire with a knife? You don’t remember?” He looks at her curiously.

“Not what I mean. What happened here?” With a sweep of her hand, she encompasses the room. For the first time, she sees the discarded clothes out in the hallway too.

Spike lets out a big breath, relief evident that the topic is on the table. “Holy hell, Buffy. I’ve got no soddin’ clue. One minute, I’m heading for my crypt, next minute I’m here. And then...” Again, he looks at her pointedly. “Well, you were there.”

“Boy howdy.” Buffy strives to contain the enthusiasm that crept into her voice, but Spike picks up on it. His slow grin at her melts some places she was trying to keep solid. “I mean, yes. Present and accounted for. Something, uh, obviously happened to us, ‘cause otherwise we would never...”

“Yeah, definitely. Never.” Spike nods, not looking at her. He’s finding it very difficult to not be touching her. The air between them is thick with tension, most of it sexual.

Buffy squeaks, “Not that you’re not...” She can’t finish the sentence.

“Right, and you’re certainly...” He gestures towards her half-revealed body.

“Well, obviously, we can’t ever do that again.” Buffy strives for certainty, but her statement comes out more like a question.

“Why not?” Spike turns to her, fire building in his eyes. She squirms.

“Um..because...” Despite the hundreds of reasons flying around her brain, Buffy is having a hard time latching onto one. Her eyes light up, finally, “Because we hate each other!”

“Oh, that.” Spike shrugs, looks momentarily defeated.

Buffy frowns. He wasn’t supposed to agree so readily. It has not escaped her attention that Spike is still fully unclothed. His hand is resting absently on her stomach and she feels her skin flaring up from the contact. Seeing her expression, Spike's face takes on a look of cunning. She’s seen that look before. It becomes slightly hard to breath in the room.

“Well, we hated each other last night and that didn’t stop us, Slayer.” His eyes are glinting at her. She’s rarely seen him in anything close to daylight and is now intrigued by the gentle blue of his eyes.

“Truuuuue.” Buffy looks at him, eyes flicking down to his mouth and back to his eyes.

“And I am stuck here all day, luv.” Spike points at the window. “Sun’s up.”

“Yes, yes. You make a good point.”

“Let’s not forget, pet. It was bloody amazing.” His hand is starting to move, lazy circles on her abdomen. The melting sensation is traveling outward, making her legs get weak.

“Yeah.” Softly, Buffy can’t help but agree as he leans down and kisses next to her navel, his eyes burning up at her. She starts to lean forward, but immediately regrets it. “Owwie.” Flopping all the way back on the bed, her hand goes to her side. The spell is broken as Spike pops up, concern etched on his face.

“Time for that later, s’pose. Let’s get you fixed up.” Spike reaches out a hand and Buffy takes it, sitting up very slowly. “Shower first. Then bandages.” His eyes twinkle at her, mischief in the forefront. Buffy looks at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I’m not sure I can make it on my own, Spike. Help me?” She bats her lashes at him before mentally studying his naked body with her eyes. He looks just as good in the morning as he did last night.

“Abso-bloody-lutely.” He gently pushes her in front of him, towards the bathroom. Just as she reaches the door, he snatches the robe off her and gives her butt a playful slap. Giggling, Buffy grabs his hand, yanking him toward the bathroom, her side forgotten for the moment...