When Big Bads Wear Gloves

[waddiwasiwitch.livejournal.com]

Title: When Big Bads wear gloves
Author: Waddiwasiwitch
Setting: Season Seven

Rating: PG

Prompt:  Inspired by entry from bogwitch Buffy Barbie and Spike  and could be prequel to entry by quinara

Twenty Two to Tango

Words:  600

When Big Bads wear gloves

Spike was stirred from his dream by high pitched squealing from above him.  Bloody bints.  He grumpily got off from his bed and made his way upstairs to give them a piece of his mind.   Once he reached the top of the stairs he discovered was not a girl he had surmised but probably the most irritating occupant in the house.   Andrew was wailing something about the last pop tart or something.

Spike coughed.  “Can’t a bloke get some shut eye around here?”

Andrew mumbled something that sounded like sorry before his mouth flew open.  “Spike what happened your hands?”

Spike looked down at his hands and winched.  Sure enough his fingers were swollen and full of green pustules.  “Bloody disgusting is what they are,” he muttered.   “Some demon tried to take a bite out of my hand last night.”

Fighting Krevloch demons came with a side effect apparently.   He thought it was bad enough those green, hairy buggers were strong, but the poison he hadn’t seen coming.  At least if a vamp bit you were either dead or undead.  These demons had no class.  The occupants of the room stepped closer to take a look at his hands, as he lifted them to examine them.

Dawn screwed up her nose in disgust.  “Ew, Spike.  That’s gross.”  There were more collective exclamations of disgust before the slayer came forward.

“Let me see,” she said, trying to grab hold of them.

He pulled them away quickly.  “Could be catching.”

The slayer put her hands on her hips.  “They need to be bathed, Spike.  The infection could get worse otherwise.  I’ll wear gloves if I have to.  You can’t bandage them up properly yourself.”

He glared at her mutinously.  “I managed well enough all these years.” 

She glared right back and he sighed.  “Alright then, but you make sure you wear gloves.  Don’t want those lovely hands infected.”

 “That would be a world of ew.”  She paused for a moment after realising what she said.  “Sorry.”

He shook his head.  She was adorable, when she murdered the English language.  

When his hands had been bathed and bandaged, he examined her handiwork.   “Thanks, Florence.”

She smiled at him and he met her gaze.  The intensity of his gaze must have thrown her because she looked away after a while.  “Do you think you’ll be up for patrolling tonight?” 

“Always for you, luv.”  He gave her a half-hearted leer, because that was what was expected of him even though he felt uncomfortable doing it.  The slayer went a becoming shade of red.  He took pity on her and took the conversation out of the dangerous waters it had gone into.  “Do you think I could take off the bandages by tonight?”

Buffy laughed and he felt warmth inside him which he knew was impossible.  Buffy could always make him feel alive.  “Afraid you would ruin your reputation.”  She scoffed.  “You could always wear gloves.”

Spike snorted derisively.  “That would be even worse.”

“Gloves can be cool,” she protested.  “Michael Jackson has a glove.”

“Wacko Jacko isn’t cool.”

“But like you he’s bad and he know’s it.”

“Don’t give up the day job, pet.”

That night he did go out patrolling, but he found the bandages did get in the way somewhat.  When he stripped off the bandages when they got back he was disappointed to see that his hands were hardly any better.  He swallowed his pride.   “Buffy, do you think you pick me up some black gloves?”

It was hard being a white hat.  But having Buffy made it a lot easier.