I'm Gonna Wash That Vamp Right Out Of My Hair
written by Gileswench
Spoilers: Through Pangs.
Summary: Giles takes a shower under disturbing circumstances.
Author's Notes: This is in reply to Fabrisse's challenge to me on You Got The Stones to show how Giles showered while Spike was
chained up in his bath. Everything that happens in this story is entirely her fault. I've also decided to use the Improv words. Here they
are: Glimmer, Fury, Ease, Silent
Dedication: To my most Twisted Sister, Fabrisse, with many slugs and kisses.
Feedback Author: Gileswench
Author's Website: Wench's Tavern
Rupert Giles eased open one weary eye, then the other. Retrieving his glasses from the nightstand, he crawled out
of bed, pulled on his bathrobe, and padded silently down the stairs heading for the bathroom. Yawning hugely, he
walked in, reached into the shower for the taps, turning the hot water on as high as it would go.
"Bloody hell! What the fuck do you think you're doing!"
Giles leapt back, shrieking in a girlish falsetto. Then he rushed forward to turn off the water.
"I'm so sorry, Spike. I'd forgotten we put you in there." It dimly registered in Giles' mind that it was
ridiculous to be apologizing to a vampire. Let alone to one's captive vampire.
"Yeah well, a fat lot of good sorry does me. I'm soaked through, you ponce!"
"Well it does no good to shout at me. It was an honest mistake. And I'm no better off than you."
"Just how do you figure that? I'm chained up in a bloody bathtub, and sodden to the skin besides. At least you're
"Yes, that's precisely my problem. I wanted to be showering now, not arguing with a vampire."
"Well I've got an easy solution for you, mate. Unchain me and let me go."
"You know I can't do that, Spike. You've yet to tell us anything very useful about those commandos. If you want to
go free, you'll have to talk."
The dripping vampire regarded his captor with scorn.
"I told you what I know. If it's not helping you and your little Scooby friends, that's too bloody bad. It's not
like I want to help the wankers."
"And I thought there was no one on Earth who could abuse the English language as thoroughly as Buffy does. To
which wankers do you refer?"
"Fine. If that's your attitude, well then, all I can say is, on your head be it."
With that Giles reached back into the stall and turned the taps back on. Despite Spike's howls of fury, he left
them on, merely reaching in a hand to adjust the temperature of the water before undressing and stepping into the
Giles took his time with his ablutions, soaping thoroughly and allowing the bubbles to fall where they would on
the enraged vampire lying beneath him. When he reached for a bottle, Spike swore at him again.
"Bloody hell, Watcher! Not the fucking shampoo as well! What's next? Fucking conditioner? Who am I chained up
with, here? My nancy boy sire?"
The live Englishman took his time washing his hair, smirking quietly to himself the entire time. He'd never been
much for torture, but he was beginning to like this. Perhaps Spike's already tight jeans would shrink
uncomfortably. Ah. That was the first glimmer of a pleasant thought for the day.
Spike, meanwhile, was torn between the misery of getting drenched, and the equal torture of having Giles' muscular
body revealed in all its glory without being able to do a damn thing about it. Truth be told, he'd always fancied
the Watcher. Now to have to lay there soaking wet, staring up at those strong thighs, those perfectly shaped ass
cheeks, while chained to the bottom of the tub was a torture Angelus could never have dreamed up.
At last it was over. Giles turned off the taps, reached for a towel, and stepped over Spike on his way out of the
tub. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he turned back to the vampire.
"Perhaps if you're a bit more cooperative, I'll move you next time."
As the Watcher left the room, Spike muttered to himself.
"With a show like that to look forward to, not bloody likely, mate!"