BtVS Fic: A Little TLC
Feb. 21st, 2025 04:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badly_knittedTitle: A Little TLC
Fandom: BtVS
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Angel, Buffy.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1220
Setting: Middle of Season three.
Summary: Buffy gets injured while on patrol and turns to Angel for some TLC.
Written For: Challenge 402: Flow at
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fan_flashworks.Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters.
Blood flows steadily from the wound in Buffy’s upper arm. It’s a trickle, not a gush, nothing life-threatening, and it will heal quickly, because that’s a Slayer trait. Greater strength and speed than a normal human, faster reflexes, along with accelerated healing and a well above average immune system to deal with infection, are necessities for anyone whose job it is to fight inhuman monsters. There’s nothing to worry about.
Angel knows all that, and this is hardly the first time Buffy has been injured, but usually it’s bruises, the odd sprain, minor cuts and scrapes. While not particularly serious, this cut is different, if only for the amount of blood seeping out to run down her arm. The scent of it seems to fill the vast, stone-clad room, heady and tantalising, and Angel finds he can’t tear his eyes away.
He wants to move closer, cradle Buffy’s injured arm tenderly, and lap the trail of blood from her golden skin. Yearns to suckle on the wound, filling his mouth with Buffy’s essence, letting it flow across his tongue, rich and hot, and more exquisite than the finest wine.
But he can’t.
He hasn’t tasted human blood since before his time in the Hell Dimensions, hasn’t drunk Slayer blood in centuries. Tempting as it is to indulge his craving, that is the one thing he can never allow himself to do. It would strengthen the demon inside him when he’d sooner let it suffer and starve the way it deserves to for all the evil it’s committed.
Swallowing hard against the hunger raging through his body, he crosses to where Buffy sits on the hard wooden bench, sets the basin of warm water on the seat beside her, along with bandages, antiseptic, and clean rags torn from one of his shirts.
“You don’t have to do that,” Buffy says as he begins to carefully wash the blood from her arm before cleaning the wound, his touch gentle even though his hands are trembling. “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, I can see the back of your arm better than you can.”
“I could use a mirror…” Buffy trails off. “Except that you don’t have one. Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.” Glancing up at Buffy’s face, Angel smiles. “Anyway, I like taking care of you.”
“I like being taken care of. By you.” Buffy blushes then. “When I’m hurt, I mean, not in the other way. I mean, I would, but…”
“It wouldn’t be a good idea, I know. Too risky.”
“Yeah.”
Angel returns his attention to the cut; the flow of blood has slowed almost to nothing by now. “You’ll be fine, it’s almost stopped bleeding.”
“Nifty Slayer powers, one of the perks of the job. Probably won’t even leave a scar. Not that I’d want it to, but… Well, most people aren’t so lucky. Some demon tries to lop my sword arm off and I’m as good as new in a few days, a week tops.”
“You still need to be careful. You were lucky this time.”
“Mm. If it had succeeded, I don’t think my arm would’ve grown back. Be a bit awkward explaining that to mom. I guess even Slayer healing has its limits.”
Angel reaches for the bandage and concentrates on binding the wound. “Is that why you came here instead of going home?”
“Here was closer, and I knew you wouldn’t freak out at the sight of blood the way mom would, what with being a vampire.” Buffy pauses, looking intently into Angel’s face as something occurs to her. “God, I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot! Coming to you like this must be like waving a bottle of whiskey or whatever in the face of an alcoholic who’s trying to quit.”
“I have quit, Buffy. I won’t say the temptation isn’t still there, because it is, every second of every day, but I’m not going to give in to it. I’m glad you came to me, that you trust me enough to help you when you’re hurt.”
“Of course I trust you! There’s no one I trust more.”
Angel drops his gaze. “I’m not sure I deserve your trust, not after everything I’ve done, to you, and to your friends.”
“That wasn’t you, Angel.” Buffy rests her hand on his arm. “It was your body, but the demon was in the driving seat. You, the soul part of you, weren’t even there, and that was my fault, not yours.”
“No, don’t ever blame yourself.” Finishing the bandaging, Angel lays his hand over Buffy’s. “Neither of us knew what would happen, but I should have felt the curse weakening.” He manages a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have taken it for granted that it was permanent. If I’d found out more about the curse when it first happened… But I was too busy wallowing in guilt and self-pity.”
“If it wasn’t my fault then it wasn’t yours either. Anyway, that’s water over the bridge. Or is it under the bridge? I never could get that straight.”
Angel smiles. “Under, definitely.”
“Okay, good; now I know! Learning girl, that’s me. Am I done?”
“All patched up,” Angel assures her. “Your mom won’t even notice.”
“Except for the blood on my clothes and the big tear in my sleeve. Mom can be a bit oblivious, but she’s got eyes, and she’s been paying closer attention since I came home. I’ll have to try to sneak in without her seeing me.” Buffy reaches for her coat, holding it up and examining the damage. “Slaying is hard on the wardrobe. I really liked this jacket; now the only thing it’s good for is the trash. Still, better the jacket than me, right? If I hadn’t been wearing this, I might be minus an arm. Has there ever been a one-armed Slayer? I should ask Giles. Nhh, morbid curiosity. Is that a Slayer thing or a teen thing? You’re laughing at me!”
“Not laughing,” Angel corrects her. “Smiling. You’re so…”
“What? Weird? Warped?”
“Amazing. No matter what happens to you, you just take it in your stride and make jokes about it. Not that you don’t take it seriously, but you don’t let things drag you down. And I like that you’re curious, that you ask questions and want to know things. No one should ever stop learning.”
“What about you?” Buffy drops her ruined jacket to the floor and turns to face Angel. “Are you still learning?”
“All the time. I’m learning that no matter what happens, I should never give up, that there’s always something worth fighting for.”
“That’s a good lesson to learn.”
“I know.” Reaching up, Angel brushes a lock of hair back from Buffy’s face, tucking it gently behind her ear. “It’s one I’ve learned from you.”
She leans down to kiss him, and if Angel’s heart had still worked it would have been pounding out his love for her. He can hear Buffy’s heart beating, sending the blood coursing along her veins, and he relishes her warmth, the life flowing through her, even though he scarcely remembers how it felt to be human.
Perhaps it doesn’t matter, because even though he’s one of the undead, he thinks he’s only now learning how to live.
The End
Angel knows all that, and this is hardly the first time Buffy has been injured, but usually it’s bruises, the odd sprain, minor cuts and scrapes. While not particularly serious, this cut is different, if only for the amount of blood seeping out to run down her arm. The scent of it seems to fill the vast, stone-clad room, heady and tantalising, and Angel finds he can’t tear his eyes away.
He wants to move closer, cradle Buffy’s injured arm tenderly, and lap the trail of blood from her golden skin. Yearns to suckle on the wound, filling his mouth with Buffy’s essence, letting it flow across his tongue, rich and hot, and more exquisite than the finest wine.
But he can’t.
He hasn’t tasted human blood since before his time in the Hell Dimensions, hasn’t drunk Slayer blood in centuries. Tempting as it is to indulge his craving, that is the one thing he can never allow himself to do. It would strengthen the demon inside him when he’d sooner let it suffer and starve the way it deserves to for all the evil it’s committed.
Swallowing hard against the hunger raging through his body, he crosses to where Buffy sits on the hard wooden bench, sets the basin of warm water on the seat beside her, along with bandages, antiseptic, and clean rags torn from one of his shirts.
“You don’t have to do that,” Buffy says as he begins to carefully wash the blood from her arm before cleaning the wound, his touch gentle even though his hands are trembling. “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to. Besides, I can see the back of your arm better than you can.”
“I could use a mirror…” Buffy trails off. “Except that you don’t have one. Sorry, wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s okay.” Glancing up at Buffy’s face, Angel smiles. “Anyway, I like taking care of you.”
“I like being taken care of. By you.” Buffy blushes then. “When I’m hurt, I mean, not in the other way. I mean, I would, but…”
“It wouldn’t be a good idea, I know. Too risky.”
“Yeah.”
Angel returns his attention to the cut; the flow of blood has slowed almost to nothing by now. “You’ll be fine, it’s almost stopped bleeding.”
“Nifty Slayer powers, one of the perks of the job. Probably won’t even leave a scar. Not that I’d want it to, but… Well, most people aren’t so lucky. Some demon tries to lop my sword arm off and I’m as good as new in a few days, a week tops.”
“You still need to be careful. You were lucky this time.”
“Mm. If it had succeeded, I don’t think my arm would’ve grown back. Be a bit awkward explaining that to mom. I guess even Slayer healing has its limits.”
Angel reaches for the bandage and concentrates on binding the wound. “Is that why you came here instead of going home?”
“Here was closer, and I knew you wouldn’t freak out at the sight of blood the way mom would, what with being a vampire.” Buffy pauses, looking intently into Angel’s face as something occurs to her. “God, I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot! Coming to you like this must be like waving a bottle of whiskey or whatever in the face of an alcoholic who’s trying to quit.”
“I have quit, Buffy. I won’t say the temptation isn’t still there, because it is, every second of every day, but I’m not going to give in to it. I’m glad you came to me, that you trust me enough to help you when you’re hurt.”
“Of course I trust you! There’s no one I trust more.”
Angel drops his gaze. “I’m not sure I deserve your trust, not after everything I’ve done, to you, and to your friends.”
“That wasn’t you, Angel.” Buffy rests her hand on his arm. “It was your body, but the demon was in the driving seat. You, the soul part of you, weren’t even there, and that was my fault, not yours.”
“No, don’t ever blame yourself.” Finishing the bandaging, Angel lays his hand over Buffy’s. “Neither of us knew what would happen, but I should have felt the curse weakening.” He manages a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have taken it for granted that it was permanent. If I’d found out more about the curse when it first happened… But I was too busy wallowing in guilt and self-pity.”
“If it wasn’t my fault then it wasn’t yours either. Anyway, that’s water over the bridge. Or is it under the bridge? I never could get that straight.”
Angel smiles. “Under, definitely.”
“Okay, good; now I know! Learning girl, that’s me. Am I done?”
“All patched up,” Angel assures her. “Your mom won’t even notice.”
“Except for the blood on my clothes and the big tear in my sleeve. Mom can be a bit oblivious, but she’s got eyes, and she’s been paying closer attention since I came home. I’ll have to try to sneak in without her seeing me.” Buffy reaches for her coat, holding it up and examining the damage. “Slaying is hard on the wardrobe. I really liked this jacket; now the only thing it’s good for is the trash. Still, better the jacket than me, right? If I hadn’t been wearing this, I might be minus an arm. Has there ever been a one-armed Slayer? I should ask Giles. Nhh, morbid curiosity. Is that a Slayer thing or a teen thing? You’re laughing at me!”
“Not laughing,” Angel corrects her. “Smiling. You’re so…”
“What? Weird? Warped?”
“Amazing. No matter what happens to you, you just take it in your stride and make jokes about it. Not that you don’t take it seriously, but you don’t let things drag you down. And I like that you’re curious, that you ask questions and want to know things. No one should ever stop learning.”
“What about you?” Buffy drops her ruined jacket to the floor and turns to face Angel. “Are you still learning?”
“All the time. I’m learning that no matter what happens, I should never give up, that there’s always something worth fighting for.”
“That’s a good lesson to learn.”
“I know.” Reaching up, Angel brushes a lock of hair back from Buffy’s face, tucking it gently behind her ear. “It’s one I’ve learned from you.”
She leans down to kiss him, and if Angel’s heart had still worked it would have been pounding out his love for her. He can hear Buffy’s heart beating, sending the blood coursing along her veins, and he relishes her warmth, the life flowing through her, even though he scarcely remembers how it felt to be human.
Perhaps it doesn’t matter, because even though he’s one of the undead, he thinks he’s only now learning how to live.
The End
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Date: 2025-02-21 11:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-02-21 11:27 pm (UTC)Thank you!