Characters/Pairings: Spike, Xander
Warnings/Spoilers: Pre-slash, season seven
Summary: A bit of a misunderstanding
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. Really, I don't
Say What You Mean
A house full of people and only two were able to help him fix the broken spots on the roof and walls. And to make matters worse, one of those people was nowhere to be found. Xander resisted the urge to bang his head off the wall. Fate really hated him.
"Here, whelp," Spike said, dropping the pile of lumber at the mortal man's feet. "What now?"
"Now we need to get all that," he pointed to the load of supplies and equipment, "up there."
Spike glanced up at the roof. "I'm good, mate, but not that good."
"I've got something set up for it, but I need you up there first," Xander replied, pointing to the ladder.
"Right," Spike nodded, running up the ladder.
Shaking his head, Xander walked over to the pulley system he had set up earlier and began loading things on it. Once done, he grabbed the rope and began to pull it, straining against the weight.
"Spike," he grated out after a few minutes. "Tell me when you have it, okay?"
"Got it," Spike called back.
"You got it?" Xander blinked.
"Yes, whelp, I got it," the vampire snapped.
Xander let go of the rope.
"I hate you," Xander slurred, staring up at the blurry image of the blonde above him.
"S'not my fault," Spike protested, dancing away from the swat Buffy aimed at him. "Really."
"Yes it is," Xander disagreed, nodding then shaking his head before settling on shrugging.
"Is he okay?" Buffy asked, staring worriedly at her friend.
"He'll be fine in a few days," the doctor assured her. "Thankfully most of the mess missed him. He just has some bumps and bruises."
"Why is he acting so funny then?" Willow asked, perching on the edge of the bed until Xander pushed her off muttering 'my bed.'
"That would be the pain medication they gave him," the doctor smiled. "It seems Mr. Harris is not used to narcotics and it's affecting him a bit strongly."
"A bit?" Spike snorted.
"Shut up," Buffy warned, glaring at the vampire. "Anything else?" she asked the doctor.
"Well, we're going to keep him over night for observation," the doctor said, checking the chart. "but if everything's fine, he'll be able to go home in the morning."
Willow looked at her drugged friend before turning a wide-eyed, worried look on the doctor. "There's a lot of bad stuff going on in town," she started.
"I know all about that," the doctor interrupted her. "And about what you do. Which is why it's a bit amusing one of you ended up in here from something so mundane." He grinned. "And yes, someone can stay with him tonight. I'll let the nurses know."
"Thank you," Willow breathed. The doctor replaced the chart and smiled at them before leaving the room. "Who's staying?"
"I can't," Buffy groaned. "There's still school tomorrow so I have to work."
"I'll stay," Spike said, preempting anything Willow was going to say.
"Are you sure?" Willow asked, staring at him hard.
"Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it," he pointed out. "Get hugs and go."
Both girls eyed him for a moment, then hugged their out of it friend before leaving the two men in the hospital room.
"Daft git, why did you let go?" Spike asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, absently running his hand through Xander's hair.
"You told me you had it," Xander said drowsily, leaning into the touch.
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did. I told you to tell me when you had it and you said, I quote, 'got it.'"
Spike blinked, then groaned. "I meant I understood, pet."
"S'okay," Xander murmured, starting to drift off. "Don't have to deal with the girls and I get to spend the night with you."
"Huh? What do you mean by that?" Spike asked. Xander didn't answer. Spike glanced down, smiling at the sleeping man. "We'll talk later, pet."
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