14889/Creatures of the Night!

Creatures of the Night!
Date of Scene:	03 April 2023
Location:	The Magic Box, Sunnydale
Synopsis:	Buffy sneaks up on Spike, and bandages are involved.
Cast of Characters:	Spike, Buffy Summers

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Spike has posed:
Spike had been on patrol, alone, as he was want to do. He had this crazy idea that if he did everything in his power to be the man Buffy would want him to be, maybe, somehow, someway, he might have a chance with her. What he had failed to realize is that pretending to be a better man, if you do it for long enough, it becomes habit. Fake it until you make it in effect.

Like tonight, he had taken on a pack of Garjoe demons, and he had won, but it had been a bloody affair. He had gotten roughed up, and cut up. He was closer to the Magic Box at the time, and so he had come, knowing that Giles kept medical supplies in the back, and he was perfectly content to help himself. He had to break in to do so, but he knew enough to pick the lock in the back. It was a mark of respect that he picked the lock, rather than just break in. Breaking in would have been so much quicker.

Buffy Summers has posed:
That back room was already occupied. The feeling had come first. The feeling that something other was in the range of her Slayer Sense. She paused in her resupply run since she'd run out of holy water dealing with some vamps down at one of the Millions that seemed to be in town. Certainly it wasn't that many but some nights, it sure seemed to be.

She had a stake in her hand before consciously thinking about it, a silver knife in the other. Because usually what didn't hurt one would hurt another monster. Though, sometimes neither would help. But knives were also good. It was a three-for-one moment.

She moved toward the back door silently, flatening herself to the side by the hinges. That way the door would swing back toward her but obscure her from the view of whatever was coming inside.

Spike has posed:
Once he got the door open, Spike walked through the door. There wasn't a great deal of light in the Magic Box, especially towards the back where they were, but if Buffy had already adjusted to the limited light, and used the skylights in the training area to re-supply, she would already be in tune.

Spike's hand came to the door edge, black painted nails coming into view, some stained with a mixture of vampire and demon blood, some dirt on them as well, and he began to slowly close the door, not wanting to make too much of a noise. He was going to close the door after him.

Buffy Summers has posed:
Seeing the fingers, Buffy tensed. Prepared. Ready to strike as soon as she got the opportunity. The figure moved forward and swung the door behind them to close.

Which is when she caught sight of that shock of blond hair.

"Dammit, Spike! Are you just wanting to get dusted? You should knock!" Because knocking on a closed business at night and making a lot of noise was exactly what someone should do when trying to keep a low profile. Riiiiiiight.

Spike has posed:
Spike was surprised to see Buffy there. He had his vampiric senses, but with a nose bleed, it did make it harder to smell. He looked like shit. But at least he didn't get dusted tonight... yet. Smiling slyly, he looked from Mr. Pointy, to her dagger, "you don't need those to get inside me, Slayer", a hand slowly coming to his chest, where his unbeating heart rested, "you're already in here."

And then he turned his back to her, which was a calculated move to try and infuriate her, as her quippy line would be to his back, or she'd have to come to him. She could also just dust him right there and then, and he would never bother her again. It was an option. With a sigh, "since yer here, know where the gauze, ointments, and plasters are?"

Buffy Summers has posed:
At his comment about her being in his heart--or chest if one chose to be obtuse about it--Buffy had to roll her eyes. Then he was walking away and for a moment, she started to lift that stake then she sighed and lowered it. The weapons disappeared into her jacket and she moved across the floor toward a cabinet. "Gauze, alcohol--not the drinking kind--, bandages, peroxide." She paused and looked back at him then into the cabinet. "I don't see anything plaster. If you have a broken bone, you'll just need to be sure it's set right so it heals I'm guessing." Because of course being American, plaster meant a whole different thing to her.

Spike has posed:
Spike, in his Britishness, forgot that she wouldn't understand, "not plaster, plasters, bandages... band-aids," and he rolled his eyes, muttering, "the United States and Great Britain, two countries separated by a common language." Though he was clearly charmed by the misunderstanding, based on his tone of voice and body language, and that smile that formed across his face.

He would reach into the cabinet, taking out some things, and setting them on a table. Next, he would ease out of his duster jacket, which made him wince, as he seemed to have a shoulder injury too. Was he playing it up for sympathy, or playing it down to be more badass? With Spike, it was always hard to tell. About the only thing that was likely true is that his injuries were not exactly as he was portraying them.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"You call bandaids plasters? That's weird." Which probably was just what he was thinking about her calling them bandaids, which was a brand, not a thing.

While Buffy was no expert, she had gotten pretty good at dealing with her own injuries over the years. Sometimes those of the Scoobies as well. So she automatically found herself moving around to look at his shoulder after he took off the jacket. To see if there was a cut or wound of that type, or was it more a strain. Which despite looking, she opted to ask as well. "What's going on with the shoulder?"

Spike has posed:
Spike gave a miniature history lesson as Buffy began looking over his injuries. He would take a seat, letting her do her thing. "Well, Band-Aid is a brand, invented just after the First World War, whereas plasters have been around for millennia. We used to have to coat bandages in sticky plaster to make it stick, while the body healed. Band-Aid has... no presence in Britain. Got to be like 5% of the market, if even that. Elastoplast is the big company over there, but even then, there are lots of choices."

"Took on a pack of Garjoe demons, sophisticated, by demon standards. One of them clubbed my shoulder," and would have likely taken his arm off if he were a regular human. "Nasty buggers. Big hulking, grey skinned, spiky skin, particularly fond of human children."

Buffy Summers has posed:
At the lesson on bandaids, which they will forever be to Buffy, there was a little roll of her eyes although the fact she was behind him examining his shoulder kept that from being seen. Unless he could hear it. She was positive her mother could hear when she rolled her eyes because she always knew even when she didn't see it!

"Doesn't look too bad. Maybe something tore inside a little?" Buffy considered. "And how many to a pack and how many did you get?" Because once they were done here, she was going to go hunt down the rest of them was the impression she was giving.

Spike has posed:
When Buffy rolled her eyes to Joyce Summers, it was annoying or disappointing. When she did it to Spike, it was charming or adorable. He smiled, his back to her, "you asked," so he explained it to her. "Could be. You know, even with vampire strength, we still have the same muscles, tendons, bones, as everyone else." It was true. A vampire could get gout, a hang nail, or compound fracture, just as easily as any other human. Okay, maybe not as easy, but with a bit of extra effort, they could be hurt in almost the same way. In answer to her question about the pack, he says, "Seven, but only because I'm counting the big one twice." His answer was the same to both questions, although that might not have immediately been clear to her.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Take off your shirt. The material isn't ripped so guessing it's bone or bruising."

Buffy put the bandages to the side since they likely weren't going to be needed. Then she considered how he answered. Which had her confused. "Seven. Those are the gargoyle like ones, right?" Giles would be either proud or horrified. Proud she got it right. Horrified cause she had to ask if it was instead of already knowing. As a trainee, even after all these years, she was a little lacking in some areas.

"You beat seven or there were seven? Or both?"

Spike has posed:
Spike turned to look at her when she told him to take off his shirt. He didn't say a word, verbally, but the smile he gave, the way he grinned, and made eye contact as he slowly did as she asked, it suggested he was eating this up. It hurt to move his shoulder like that, but he did get out of his shirt, exposing his chest, which was in pretty damn good shape. He wasn't overly muscular, but he was absolutely toned. If he could tan, he'd have looked very good. But as a vampire, he was incredibly pale. It robbed him of some, but not all his sex appeal, not that she saw him that way, right? His infatuation with her was entirely one way, wasn't it? "Yeah, related to..." he leaned his head forward, as even he was trying to remember, "gargoyle dogs, these blokes, no wings, but turn to stone during the day, upright, but, bulkier, rotund would be the word. But pack quite a wallop with their upper body strength." A pause, "both. Not to worry, I got 'em all, unless, there were more, separated, off devouring children at the hospital or some such." Yes, a joke, but a horrifying one.

Buffy Summers has posed:
That look. That grin and the amusement in his expression. "Oh come on. I'm your nurse here. Wait, that might be worse. Get your mind out of the gutter!" But she flushed a little in embarassment.

As he took off his shirt, Buffy watched. For a little longer than she probably should have. Then she dropped her gaze to the side as she let out a quick clearing her throat noise. Then she focused up again and examined his shoulder. The odd thing was, there was some light bruising. Well, on a normal person it would appear light. But on his pale skin it stood out like a beacon. And the fact he didn't really have flowing blood in the same sense as a normal person meant he had some damage there. "Okay, this looks painful." And thanks for that, captain obvious. Considering he'd already said it hurt and she saw how hard it was for him to get the shirt off. "I'm going to check for broken bones so let me know if this...well, hurts more than it already does."

Spike has posed:
He didn't have to say 'hello nurse', they were both thinking of it. Or was it the sexy nurse Halloween costume she meant? Either way, it had Spike grinning widely. He was actually feeling better, despite the pain. Laughter was often the best medicine. Not that he had actually laughed. He was just smiling or grinning at these exchanges. "Got it, mind out of the gutter, whatever you say, nurse Buffy." More grinning.

As she began to check for broken bones, it meant that her fingers had to go to his skin. He was always a bit cool to the touch, not that she had much experience touching him. His skin was always room temperature. Though blood did flow through his veins. Cut a vampire that wasn't starving and it would bleed. The heart may not be pumping, but blood still flowed through his system. It was part of life, even undead life. It was needed to lift his arms, to twist, to shift. Just as he didn't need air to breath, but he did need to inhale in order to make sounds, like talking. Vampires were far closer to humans than the Watchers Council would care to admit.

He would be fine for most touches, here, there, and when she found one that hurt, he would let out a soft, muted yelp. He was trying to be brave, to hide the extent of his injuries. "Tingles a bit there, luv." In truth, he was loving having her hands roaming over his back.

Buffy Summers has posed:
They were more probing than roaming but tomato tomahto as the saying went. Buffy paused as she hit the spot he said tingled and felt a bit more, though carefully. "It doesn't feel broken but we'd need to get an x-ray to be sure. Maybe fractured? Nothing seems to be moving around at least." It probably wasn't comfortable but she was doing her best.

"I'd suggest binding the arm to your chest and wrapping you so that you don't use the shoulder for a day. Just long enough for your natural healing to kick in. Should be fine by tomorrow is my guess."

Which she was leaving it up to him if he wanted to go that far. Though she did go back to the part of their conversation that she'd sort of had to skip in reminding him this was purely for medical reasons! "Were you just saying the hospital thing or do I need to head over there to check? I should probably go check. Even if you were kidding. Because just cause you're kidding doesn't mean it isn't true, right?"

Spike has posed:
"Oh, I'm all for the X-Ray, just let me see about my insurance," he patted his pant pocket, then the other, with his free hand, before snapping his black nail painted fingers, "forgot, I don't have insurance. I'll be fine, Buffy." She was doing a great job, he was just being a difficult patient, trying to hide his injuries from his nurse. He gave her another playful smirk when she talked about binding his arm.

"While I'm not too sure if I should turn down the offer of bondage fun, it would put me at something of a disadvantage. I'd be a walking target out there." Was he angling for her to let him stay over at her place? Sure, it was safer than his crypt, and he did get hurt in the line of Slayer assisted duty, but still!

"It was a joke, Buffy, about the hospital and the Garjoe demons. I have no reason to believe that there are any others out there, but if it'll make you feel better, we can go check out the hospital together, make sure all the boys and girls are okay." Injured or not, he wanted to help, or was it just an excuse to spend more time with her?

Buffy Summers has posed:
"You would be down to one working arm and retired for the night," Buffy explained. But since he didn't seem to excited about that prospect, she started putting supplies away in the first aid kit again. It wasn't the traditional one that might be bought at a store to keep on hand. This was more the Slayer version which had some stuff for heavier situations, including the ability to put in staples to hold a wound closed until Slayer healing could close it up naturally. Stitches were even possible but that was when Giles was around and not off in England. The rest of them weren't really on that skill level, thus staples (medical grade!) had to do.

"I would feel better going by the hospital. And where you killed them." Which brought her to a pause as she considered, glancing at him from where she putting things away. "Do Garjoe demons dust? Or melt? Or do I need to bring a shovel?"

Spike has posed:
"Yeah, but you should see what I can do with one working arm," Spike replied, without missing a beat. Damn, how did he manage to say things in just such a way to garner maximum impact? He watched as she gathered up the supplies, and began putting his shirt back on. The coat would come next. Neither would be that easy. It hurt, but it was doable. "Got it, hospital, then battle site," he agreed as he 'suited up', though kept his human face on. He rarely showed his vampire face these days, unless he was trying to frighten someone. "Crumble and dust, like concrete. They just sort of turn into slabs, which break apart, and create a lot of dust, but not vampire dust, this is more like construction site dust."

Buffy Summers has posed:
Which had her looking pointedly at his jacket and any dust that might be showing on it. Then to his boots to see if he had stomped apart those slabs and that meant there was dead demon dust all over the training room. The urge to go get a broom and dustpan was strong but she resisted. She'd do it later.

She opened her mouth to offer to help him with the shirt and jacket then thought better of it. Instead changing it over to something else. "We'll go check the hospital first then do a full patrol in case they are somewhere else in town. Hopefully that was all of them though."

She glanced down for a moment then moved to start picking up her messenger bag, checking inside to be sure she had everything she needed. "And...thanks, Spike. For taking care of them and helping with patrols."

Spike has posed:
There was a bit of dust on his leather jacket, his boots, and the ankles of his jeans. So that part of his story held up. Didn't look like he had gone out of his way to revel in it, but it was still corroborating evidence. One never knew how much of what Spike said was genuinely the truth, was the truth in a roundabout fashion, and was utter bullshit. Though he had been showing fewer signs of that last one these past few months, years really. "Sounds like a plan," he said, agreeing with her idea of trying the hospital first. It never hurt to check the hospital. Even if he had been just making a joke.

Her pause, her look down, and her thanks, caught him slightly off guard. He paused in his step. "Well, what's a man to do, but try, right?" He really was trying to act like a man, a hero even. Sure, she knew it was all part of some foolish plan to get in her pants, but you don't keep at something like this, for years, with virtually zero encouragement, do you? There had to be more to it, right?

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy paused as she added a couple of bottles of holy water to the bag she held then glanced to him again. "Did you need any supplies? Weapons? Since you'll be working at a lesser level than usual with that shoulder?"

And she offered him a chance to get into the weapons case. Though if he tried to take any of the really good stuff, she'd be wanting that back at the end of the night.

Spike has posed:
Spike's right shoulder was the one that had been injured. He was right handed. So he would be using his weaker hand. Still, vampires, much like Slayers, were fairly ambidextrous. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he walked over to where Buffy stood, in front of the cabinet. He stood inside her personal space, as he was looking over her. She wasn't that tall, but it at least made sense, even if he was probably just doing this to be physically close to her.

"Hmm, this one looks spiffy," and he reached out to touch what looked to be an 11th century Spanish sword. What he failed to realize was that it was in fact the Blessed Sword, and used to slay Acathla. It was the sword that Buffy had stabbed Angel with and sent him to a hell dimension, re-entrapping Acathla. He winced, letting go of the handle as it burnt him, "ouch!" He shook the hand a few more times, "okay, definitely not sword number one."

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Maybe ask me before you touch the next weapon," Buffy suggested. She was very quick to be sure she added those last three words because he was Spike. And one had to be sure that she left him as few openings as humanly possible.

"Some of the things are blessed. Like that one." Again, captain obvious makes an appearance. "Though you already figured that out now. That's the Blessed Sword, used to slay Acathla." Which he probably knew enough about after Angel had gone evil to realize it was /that/ sword. And probably why she was looking down again, lips pressed together tightly.

Spike has posed:
He was doubly upset now. He had given her a reminder of captain hair gel, and he had burnt his own hand. His skin was still smoking, just like when he held a cross, or had holy water splashed on him. It wasn't enough to kill, but certainly made him reconsider his efforts. "I get it, this stuff is meant to combat the forces of darkness... not accept their aide." He closed his fist, not wanting her to see the damage it had done. "How about that axe," he asked, gesturing with his eyes to one.

Buffy Summers has posed:
"Oh that's a good one. Not blessed. I mean it's blessed but not in like /that/ way," Buffy adds. "You can touch it without problems."

It was smaller, a handaxe really, but not one made for chopping wood. This was a war axe. It had been a gift to her by Ares himself. Nothing special except it was hard as hell to break and didn't lost it's edge. No magic spells, no burning the cursed, nothing fancy. But it was a damn fine axe.

"It was a gift from Ares. Yes, that one. Who knew gods could actually be cool sometimes? Y'know, after I tried to stake him." Then she shrugged. "Long story. Your hand okay?" Yes, she had noticed.

Spike has posed:
"From Ares?" He said, surprise clear on his face, "then that would mean it was made by Hephaestus, or just one he got from a smith along the centuries." Spike knew the Olympic gods, much the Norse ones, mostly had their own stuff, but would occasionally use items made by mortals. Over the centuries, some mortals became really good at perfecting a trade. He took the axe, and was still in Buffy's personal space, so he didn't give it a swing. Sure, he could, and she would be in no danger. Even if she were, she could dodge. But still, it was just common courtesy. "I'd love to hear that story some time." Though he didn't say anything about the hand. At least it had stopped smoking.

Buffy Summers has posed:
With him skipping the hand response, Buffy took it as him not wanting to talk about it. Because that was just his way. If he wanted attention, he'd certainly be drawing it to the wound.

"He was mostly mad about his jacket. Happened at Denny's." Okay, the story was just getting weirder with the details she was adding. She shook her head, grinning a bit. "C'mon, let's head to the hospital. And maybe we should get you a key so you don't have to break in the backdoor anymore."

Spike has posed:
That was nice of her, to offer him a key. "To your place, or the Magic Box," he asked, with a sly grin, holding the axe downward, blade to his side, because that was safer than swinging it about. If it was as sharp as she made it out to be, he didn't want to accidentally graze her. He'd much rather risk grazing his precious jacket than her flesh. Which again, showed how much he cared. "You want to take point, or shall I?" Tough question, if she took point, he'd get to stare at her backside. If he took point, she wasn't leading. And they both knew how much she liked being in control of a situation. She was the Slayer. It was her job.

Buffy Summers has posed:
Buffy rolled her eyes this time where he could see it. "The Magic Box. Giles told me about your arrangement but obviously you still come in here sometimes." Since he did it just now.

She opened the door, setting the lock so that once it was closed it would lock behind them. "And how about we just go together? Like equals?" And with that, she waited for him to join her so they could head out on patrol.