Title: The Morning after the Night before
Rating: PG13 for language.
Author’s note: This was inspired by my human Spike story I wrote for letsgetitdone called changing perspectives. This can be read independently of course.
Prompt: La Belle Dame sans Merci
From the moment Spike awoke, he knew it was going to be a bad day. Buffy was gone from their bed and he took a look at the digital alarm clock on the dresser. It was midday. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry. So this was what a human hangover was like. Fuck.
The door to the bedroom opened and Buffy peered in. “I thought I heard a groan.” She walked in with a mug of steaming coffee in her hands.
Spike sat up in the bed and took the mug gratefully from her. “Thanks, luv.”
She sat on the bed beside him. “Don’t get used to it, buster.”
He sighed, “Why do I feel I’ve been run over by a truck?”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “You practically drank a brewery dry last night. No wonder you’re hung over.”
Spike glared at her.
“So are you hungry?” she asked.
His stomach churned at the thoughts of food. “No, I couldn’t.”
He noticed the mischievous smile. “Are you sure? Bacon? Pancakes?”
The devious bint.
“Ha! Ha! You’re a right comedienne.”
He pulled himself out of bed, despite wanting nothing better than to put the pillow over his head and hide in bed for the day, but maybe a shower would cure? That or hair of the dog.
After a nice long shower Spike felt somewhat better and made his way downstairs. It was clear he could no longer manage Jack Daniels as well as he had in the past. He missed the vampire constitution. There were a lot of things he had to learn to live without now but at least Buffy wasn’t one of them.
Buffy was watching television in the living room when he walked in. “Hey sleepy head.”
Spike grunted in response, throwing himself down on the sofa next to her. He may feel a little better but he was still nauseous.
“How about some music?” Buffy suggested.
Before Spike could utter a word of protest, she turned on a music channel. The voice of Justin Bieber filled the room and Buffy, the minx, turned up the volume.
“Oi!” Spike desperately tried to wrest the remote control from her.
She giggled like a schoolgirl and jumped up from the sofa. “Catch me, then.”
Spike simply got up and walked over to the telly, turning it off.
“Spoilsport,” Buffy muttered with a pout. That lip of hers
Spike raised a brow. “I’m not done with you.”
She licked her lips provocatively. “Is that so?”
He made his way over to her and she made no effort to move. He put his arms around her and tapped her bottom lightly.
“You’re a bad girl, Buffy Summers,” he breathed in her ear. “Any suggestions as to how we can spend our Sunday?”
“Hmm.” Buffy feigned innocence. “We could go bowling?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “La belle dame sans merci.”
Buffy frowned. “Huh? What’s that supposed to mean you big jerk?”
“Never mind, luv. I’ve got an excellent idea for how we could spend the day.”
Spike bent down to kiss her and she wrapped her arms around his neck. This was a much better cure for a hangover. Who needs hair of the dog?
- Current Mood: tired