Title: Reluctant mediwitch
Rating: PG-13 for certain words used
Summary: Buffy has a little... accident *coughcough*
Disclaimer: I don't own them, sadly. I'm just borrowing and will have them back in bed by midnight. I'm not saying whose bed though.. it leaves a lot of possibilities open. *g*
It had been a curse. She was the Slayer, after all, so under normal circumstances she wouldn’t even have to worry about something so trivial. This situation, however, was so far from normal it was in another galaxy altogether.
They were fending off the latest Death Eater attack. How come the Slayer was fighting the Wizarding World’s war, you ask? Simple. Giles had gone and done it again by not telling any of them the truth about his family, nor about the school he’d attended as a child, a certain Hogwarts somewhere in Scotland. Willow was still mighty pissed off at him for that reason, and Buffy was farley certain Giles’ ears were ringing even now from all the shouting Willow had done. Anyway, so this Dumbledore guy had sent a letter, by owl no less – poor Dawn had nearly fainted when the grey bird had flown in through the kitchen window – and had asked for help against the Evil Wizard posing as the latest Big Bad. Considering Faith and Robin had the Slayers School under control and Andrew and Dawn were successfully – and miraculously in Andrew’s case – finding the new Slayers, Buffy had decided a change of scenery would be beneficial. Ergo, she’d moved to England, Willow and Xander in tow.
The night before they’d faced the latest attempt at an attack those masked idiots had made. And that’s when it happened, the thing that ruined her life. She was busy ducking one of those cruciatus curses and hadn’t seen the other two heading her way. Ron had, however, and had thrown a quick protection barrier around her. Now whether it was the hastily spoken protection word or the combined action of the cruciatus with the death curse and Ron’s barrier, no one could tell. Buffy had awakened a couple of hours later to a killer headache and a clogged nose. Yup, the Slayer had a cold. The mother of all colds, at that.
Of course, they’d tried to find a cure. Every curse could be broken, they’d said. Except they’d forgotten that she a). was a Slayer and b). had died and been resurrected. Nothing seemed to work. Five hours later they had a seriously cranky Slayer on their hands and no solution other than to wait it out. Fabulous! Now, twenty hours later, Buffy’s mood had not improved and inch and she didn’t foresee that to happen in the near future. And you know why? Because, to top it all off, her friends had gotten cold feet and had proceeded to exit at a quick rate – so as not to say they ran away like chicken – and had left her in the care of the one guy she despised the most out of the whole bunch. Yup, you got it. The ferret face.
Oh, he hadn’t wanted to stay and had been so clear about it she’d heard him all the way from her room upstairs. He’d said he had better things to do than play mediwitch to a spoiled brat. Well, right back at ya, moron. She at least had a good reason for acting up, compared to the stick up his ass. And that was why she was standing there leaning heavily against the wall and trying to get to the stairs. She wanted a glass of water, and she’d be damned before she asked the king of sulk for any help. She’d gotten out of her room and a few steps down the corridor before the strength had left her. She made a note to remember to ask for the heating to be turned down. Seriously, how could anyone live in this sauna?
She could hear footsteps on the stairs, but she couldn’t for the life of her get her feet to move. So she stood there, waiting for the inevitable meeting with the pain in her ass. She watched through half closed eyes as he rounded the corner only to stop short when he saw her.
“What the bloody fuck are you doing out of bed, Summers?”
She cringed at his yell, waiting for her ears to stop hurting before she would start her own shouting.
“What the hell do you care, Malfoy?”
But her voice was not what she was aiming for. Instead of angry tiger she got sleepy kitten. This would not do, but she decided to postpone the current shouting match for another time, when she wasn’t feeling so woozy. So Buffy opted for the second plan. Ignore him, and maybe he’ll go away. She took another two steps with the intention of bypassing him. The ferret, however, had other plans and he reached a hand out for her arm.
“That’s it, you’re going back to your room. I don’t need the others at my throat because you’re too stupid to know when to stay in bed.”
She made to push him away, really she did, but her own arm could barely move and by the time she pushed at his hand all her remaining strength had evaporated and she slid towards the floor. She never got there, though, instead the world flip-flopped and she felt herself floating. Dimly she heard his voice, but the hint of worry she noticed must have been due to the sickness. No way in hell would Malfoy ever worry about her. Would he?
“Shit, you’re burning up, Summers.”
She let out a weak moan as he hoisted her up in his arms. Bad moving, very bad. Moments later she felt cold against the bare soles of her feet and dimly realized he’d set her down. She didn’t have any better luck at standing now than she did earlier, though, and she was actually grateful to feel his chest at her back, one arm around her waist holding her up. He was leaning over her, his free arm busy. With what, she couldn’t tell, but then all thoughts fled her head as thousands of ice cold needles hit her face and chest, the cold water sliding down her front. She couldn’t breathe for a full minute, her body trying desperately to cope with the shock. Her head turned to the side and she swallowed the water that had made it past her slack lips. She had to get away and it was a superhuman effort to turn around, offering her back to the icy punishment. It was better than before, but not by much. She had her face pressed against Draco’s shoulder, her body trembling so violently that her teeth clattered uncontrollably. She tried to tell him to let her get away, but only managed to bite her tongue. The taste of blood was really something she could have done without at that particular moment.
Buffy felt a cold palm against her forehead, combing her hair back and pausing every now and then only to come back colder. Drops of water slid down her nose and into her open mouth which was pulling in all the oxygen she could get. It seemed like forever while they stood there, but eventually her trembling subsided to slight shudders. She felt him lift her again and then her feet touched the soft bathroom rug. She almost felt bad for dripping all over the floor, but then a thought passed through her head. She had been wearing her kitten pajamas when she’d left the room and now, with the material soaking wet, she just knew it showed every detail of her body. She just couldn’t find the strength to care very much at that moment. She was sure she’d be embarrassed enough when she’d feel better. Draco leaned her against the edge of the tub, steadying her with one hand. She forced her eyes open to see a tender look on his face. It made him look nice. Those silver eyes sparkling, that kissable mouth turned up into a slight smile. Wet strands of hair clinging to his forehead, just begging to be swept aside. She must be delirious, Buffy decided. There could be no other explanation for the lusty thoughts she’d just had about the ferret face. Yup, that was it. Delirious as well as sick. Then why did her heart just skip a beat at his chuckle?
“You look like a wet kitten, Summers.”
“You, too, Malfoy.” well, that’s strange. She’d tried for a stinging come back. Was she running out of smart assed quips? Gasp.
“Let’s fix that, shall we?”
She watched as he took out his wand – where on earth did he keep it with those form fitting pants and that silk shirt? – then waved it around and before she had time to remind him spells didn’t work on her she was dry and warm. Huh. Strange. She’d have to ask Willow how that was possible. Or maybe it was just some spells that didn’t work.
He picked her up again and, despite the voice in her head yelling that this was Malfoy, Buffy snuggled against him, nose buried against his neck. He smelled good. Edible, even. When he lay her down on a soft surface she opened her eyes again, realizing with a start they were in her room. She didn’t really remember them getting there. The sheets were cool against her heated body and it felt good. She’d have to remember to ask Willow how someone could be both cool and hot at the same time. Wasn’t that somehow against the rules?
Buffy felt the covers being pulled up to her chin, tucked comfortably around her. Maybe the others were back. Was this Willow? One eye cracked open to see blonde hair and grey eyes. She frowned.
“Why are you being nice to me, Malfoy?”
He ducked his head and Buffy could swear she saw his cheeks turn red. He mumbled something, too soft for even her Slayer hearing to catch.
His head snapped up, but he didn’t look at her, instead focusing on the door. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it only to snap it shut again with a frustrated sigh.
“Merlin, I’m not a first year anymore.” he cleared his throat, finally focusing on her. “I tried to hate you, you know? Damn Muggle sweeping in to the rescue. Friends with Potter the first day you arrived. Why is it that all the smart and pretty girls go for the scarhead? Bloody annoying, that. And damn, Summers, you fight like a goddess. I’ve never seen Death Eaters scared in a fight. They always think they’re better. But not against you. You terrify them. And you make me loose all the self control I’m so proud of. Do you know I dream of you every night? I can’t help it. I started taking the Dreamless Sleep potion so I can just get a decent night’s rest. You drive me up the walls, Summers.“ he stopped then, hands combing through his hair and grabbing the locks at the back of his neck. “Look at me. I’m supposed to be cool and unfazed. I’m a Malfoy, for Merlin’s sake!”
“Huh?” ok, now she was even more confused.
“Did you hear anything I said, Summers?”
“Err... fire bad, tree pretty?”
“I’m in love with you, woman!”
Now that did register. And left her gaping like a fish. But.. but he hated her... and he.. and... brain shutdown.
“Oh? I spill my heart out for you and all you have to say is ‘oh’?”
“Umm.. still in shock here.” well, what do you know? A full sentence. Miracles do happen, after all.
He sighed, moving to get up with a dejected expression that she wanted to kiss away. And that was the last straw. She reached out, catching him in mid movement and making him tumble back onto the bed. He landed with a muffled ‘oomph’, right on top of her. Whether it was a coincidence or not, she couldn’t say, but when his lips met hers she melted against him, arms going around his neck. Soft lips, tasty lips. There was a huge grin on his face when they broke the kiss.
“Was that an ‘I love you, too, Draco’?”
She mock frowned at him, rolling her eyes as much as she could through the wave of tiredness that had hit her again.
“That was an ‘I like you, and I think I could be in love with you, but I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t get under these covers and let me snuggle. Now.’”
Draco laughed then and scrambled to obey, silver eyes shining. He toed off his shoes, lifted the covers and in one swift move he was stretched out against Buffy’s body. He smiled as she threw a leg over one of his and her arm over his torso, settling herself comfortably and using his shoulder as her pillow. She raised her head briefly to plant a sweet kiss on his lips, then laid back down with a mumbled ‘sleep now, quality smoochies later’. He chuckled again, pulling her tighter against him and burying his nose in her hair. He listened as her breathing evened out and soon fell asleep himself, a goofy smile on his lips.
A few hours later one red haired witch was tip-toeing out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her to give the sleeping couple some privacy. She triumphantly clutched her digital camera in her hand, showing it to the dark haired young man next to her. He pushed his glasses back into place, shaking his head with a smile as his companion mouthed ‘evidence’.
“Took them long enough.”
“Yup, the tension was becoming unbearable.” Willow answered.
“It sure was convenient how those spells reacted to her. I’ve never heard of something like that. Even Hermione was none the wiser. You don’t think there could be foul play involved, do you?”
The wandless witch turned her head towards him with a mischievous grin on her rosy lips and watched his eyes widen as comprehension dawned.
“I don’t know what you mean.” she said, innocence incarnate.
She then winked at him and made her way down the stairs leaving behind her one Harry Potter who was desperately trying to hold back his laughter. He wasn’t all that successful.