Buffy the Vampire Slayer Preferences + imagines/one shots

Spike Imagine - Shower

I am so close to crying.

The hot water running down the curves of my body doesn't provide the normal comfort I usually indulge in at the end of a long day. Patrolling has left me battered and bruised. The voice in my head isn't helping, laughing cruelly at how weak I performed. 

I flip the cap off my raspberry shampoo and squirt a dollop into my hand. I place the bottle on the little shower shelf and wince at the movement. I lather it a little before trying to run it through my hair. I let out a frustrated groan - my arms are so sore I can't even move them that high to reach. Shameful tears run down my face, and I sniff loudly. 

I take a deep breath and stare blankly at the wall.

"Love? Are you okay?" His voice sounds from right outside the door. I startle and inhale a gulp of water.

"Yeah," I splutter. My voice sounds unsure and quiet. 

I hear Spike say my name, then the soft creak of the door opening an inch. "Don't come in!" I say instinctively. I trust Spike, he's my boyfriend, but he hasn't been for long. We've been together a couple of weeks, and we've only slept together once. The thought of him seeing me in the shower is a whole new kind of vulnerable. 

A moment passes.

"I heard you." Spike says quietly. "Crying." Curse his vampiric senses. I twist the knob to stop the water so I can hear him better. "What's wrong?"

"I can't -" I falter, "I got hurt when patrolling and I can't - I can't even lift my hands to wash my hair." 

He makes a sympathetic noise. I pick up the shampoo bottle and clutch it to my chest. He does it noiselessly, but I can sense he's slipped into the room. "I can help." He offers. 

"But..." I meekly protest, struggling to find a way to describe my feelings. 

"But, what?"

"But... I'm naked." I whisper.

He chuckles. "Well yeah. Look... I'm not going to try anything, okay? Just let me help you."

"Okay." I agree faintly. I catch a rustle of material and the metallic sound of a belt unbuckling. 

The shower curtain swooshes open and Spike steps carefully inside. I'm still facing the shower head, so I turn quickly to look at him. Gratefully, his eyes are trained on my face, and I focus on not letting my stare, or my thoughts, drift elsewhere. 

He takes the bottle out of my grasp, and I turn around again. 

His hands are gentle as they comb through my damp hair. He doesn't say anything and neither do I, until he's satisfied. 

He reaches around me, his arm brushing lightly against my torso. He switches the water back on and I let the downpour engulf me.

"What happened, love?" 

I explain briefly of the belligerent vampires who caught me unawares. I recount how I got knocked to the ground multiple times, how I lost my stake and had to slay them with the end of a spade I found. 

He listens patiently. During my ramble, he switches to conditioner, running his hands through my hair again. He takes his time, almost giving me a head massage. A small smile creeps its way onto my lips. 

"You can rinse it off now." Spike tells me, running his hands over my shoulders affectionately. I step forward and once it's all washed off, I step back, accidentally bumping into Spike's chest. I pivot around to stare up at him. 

A beat passes.

Impulsively, I hug him, pressing my wet body into his. I feel him tense before relaxing, wrapping me in his arms. I pull back, embarrassed, but he smiles and I reciprocate. My cheeks redden as I'm soon reminded of the fact that we're both very naked. 

Spike is unfazed though, and says with amusement, "I might as well wash as I'm in here." He shifts past me to get under the water. He quickly lathers his bleach-blond hair in shampoo - he doesn't bother with conditioner - and I watch in appreciation and contentment. 

While he uses bodywash, I get myself out of the shower and start to dry myself gingerly. The pain has settled a bit but is still plaguing my senses. I slip on my nightdress.

The hum of the shower ceases and Spike pulls the curtain open. He tilts his head and sighs at the sight of me. "Come here," he instructs, taking the towel out of my hands and drying my hair carefully. He wraps up my hair in the towel, before grabbing a new one for himself. He dries off and doesn't mind me watching his sculpted muscles move. He secures the towel around his waist and gestures for me to go out into the crypt's living room. 

I oblige, sleepily sinking into the couch.  I watch him put on boxers and navy pyjama pants, before letting my eyes flutter shut. Reality fades as I lay my head back and sleep starts to cloud my once busy mind. 

In my half-awake state, I feel strong arms around me, pulling me up and away from the cosy sofa. I mumble a protest but soon feel soft sheets underneath me. 

Spike drapes a blanket over me, and he whispers in my ear: "Goodnight, love."

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