Convalescence
Title: Convalescence
Prompts: Mulled wine, Colds & Flu
Timeline: Who knows?
Disclaimer: still not mine, alas
Author's note: Okay, I cheated. I combined two prompts. 'Cause mulled wine was all hard and stuff. I blame my cold.
Colored lights reflected in the dark window panes. No white Christmases in California, but it was cold enough that the warmth from the fireplace was welcome.
"I've got to patrol--" rasped Buffy, struggling to throw off the quilt.
"No, you don't." Spike pushed her back onto the couch with what normally wouldn't be enough force to keep a slayer down, but in her present state Buffy only glared. Even the glare's strength was diminished by the way her eyes crossed.
"Not to worry," Xander strode into the living room. "The Scoobs have got it covered. Anya and I will do a sweep through the cemetery, and Willow and Tara will check out downtown."
"It's my job." Whatever Buffy meant to add was cut off by a series of coughs.
"And like the rest of the world, you get sick leave."
Anya came in through the front door. "What's taking so long? I've got packages to wrap; I don't want this patrol to last all night."
"Just grabbing some weapons." Xander shouldered the large axe and dropped a couple of stakes into his coat pocket."
"Oh, this is very picturesque." Anya smiled at the sight of slayer and vampire on the couch. "And Spike's immune to human germs, so he's the best person to take care of the invalid." She carefully avoided standing too close.
Buffy huffed. "Go, go." She made shooing motions with her hands and flopped back.
Tara entered from the kitchen, carrying a steaming mug. Willow followed after with Tara's coat over her arm.
"Drink this," Tara handed the mug to Buffy.
"I can't smell anything. What is it?"
"Mulled wine. It might not do anything to the germs, but it'll make you sleep better."
Buffy took a cautious sip. "Tastes fruity. I think."
Spike waited until everyone had trooped outdoors, then pulled a battered book from under the couch.
"What's that?"
"Shift over, pet." Buffy juggled her cup of wine as he slid behind her on the couch, then pulled her back against him.
"If you ever tell anyone I did this, I will bite you."
Buffy snorted. "What's the big secret?"
"Be quiet and drink."
She took another sip while he settled into place, one hand across her stomach and the other holding the book at arm's length. He cleared his throat, then read in a voice as rich as the wine and as warm as the firelight.
"Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin."
Buffy leaned back against his rumbling chest. Her eyes drooped. She was asleep before the pirates arrived.
Prompts: Mulled wine, Colds & Flu
Timeline: Who knows?
Disclaimer: still not mine, alas
Author's note: Okay, I cheated. I combined two prompts. 'Cause mulled wine was all hard and stuff. I blame my cold.
Colored lights reflected in the dark window panes. No white Christmases in California, but it was cold enough that the warmth from the fireplace was welcome.
"I've got to patrol--" rasped Buffy, struggling to throw off the quilt.
"No, you don't." Spike pushed her back onto the couch with what normally wouldn't be enough force to keep a slayer down, but in her present state Buffy only glared. Even the glare's strength was diminished by the way her eyes crossed.
"Not to worry," Xander strode into the living room. "The Scoobs have got it covered. Anya and I will do a sweep through the cemetery, and Willow and Tara will check out downtown."
"It's my job." Whatever Buffy meant to add was cut off by a series of coughs.
"And like the rest of the world, you get sick leave."
Anya came in through the front door. "What's taking so long? I've got packages to wrap; I don't want this patrol to last all night."
"Just grabbing some weapons." Xander shouldered the large axe and dropped a couple of stakes into his coat pocket."
"Oh, this is very picturesque." Anya smiled at the sight of slayer and vampire on the couch. "And Spike's immune to human germs, so he's the best person to take care of the invalid." She carefully avoided standing too close.
Buffy huffed. "Go, go." She made shooing motions with her hands and flopped back.
Tara entered from the kitchen, carrying a steaming mug. Willow followed after with Tara's coat over her arm.
"Drink this," Tara handed the mug to Buffy.
"I can't smell anything. What is it?"
"Mulled wine. It might not do anything to the germs, but it'll make you sleep better."
Buffy took a cautious sip. "Tastes fruity. I think."
Spike waited until everyone had trooped outdoors, then pulled a battered book from under the couch.
"What's that?"
"Shift over, pet." Buffy juggled her cup of wine as he slid behind her on the couch, then pulled her back against him.
"If you ever tell anyone I did this, I will bite you."
Buffy snorted. "What's the big secret?"
"Be quiet and drink."
She took another sip while he settled into place, one hand across her stomach and the other holding the book at arm's length. He cleared his throat, then read in a voice as rich as the wine and as warm as the firelight.
"Buttercup was raised on a small farm in the country of Florin."
Buffy leaned back against his rumbling chest. Her eyes drooped. She was asleep before the pirates arrived.