Chapter 17
Half an hour later he sat on the couch, sprawled out as he idly flickered through channels. Every once in a while, he’d throw a glance at the staircase in the feeble hope of finding her there. Sighing audibly, he stood up and sprinted up the stairs. Reaching her bedroom, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.
“You ready yet?”
“Just give me two more minutes.” He heard her shout from the other side.
“Oh, come on luv, we’ll be late for short stick’s show.” Spike grumbled.
There was silence for a few moments.
“Luv, we-“ He stopped in mid sentence as the door swung open to reveal her limping form.
Buffy clumsily hopped on one foot as she tried to get her other one into her high-heel boots while, at the same time, attempting to put on one of her spaghetti earrings. He gawked noticeably at her as she limped her way back to her dresser. She wore a short, black miniskirt and a lustrous silver top that tied up around her neck and left her pale back exposed. The outfit was completed by the pair of knee-high black boots.
She stared at the mirror, frowning as the earring refused to go through her pierced earlobe.
“Stupid earring.” She grumbled, while continuing to stick her foot into the boot. After a few moments, she was successful in both her tasks and she stood up straight in front of the mirror, pulling her skirt down as she turned to examine her back. “How do I look?” She asked without even glancing at the boy.
Spike’s mouth opened and closed several times, like a fish out of water, but the words refused to come out as he simply gawked at the girl in front of him. He repressed a groan as he saw her lean into the mirror to apply her lipstick.
Minutes later, she stood up straight once again, tugging at her miniskirt and flattening her top as she turned sideways to see herself on the mirror.
“How’s the war-paint?” She asked, finally looking at him.
Spike jumped up in surprise, snapping out of his daze to gaze up at her face.
“What?” He managed to word.
“The make-up. Is it ok?” She questioned, turning to the mirror and smacking her lips together.
“It’s ok.” He mumbled, his gaze returning to her exposed legs as she leaned over the dresser.
At his statement, she immediately stood up straight.
“Just ok?” She frowned.
“You look gorgeous, luv.” He corrected himself.
“I better.” She said with a light pout. “I wanna see Dru foaming from her mouth and Angel kicking himself unconscious for dumping me.” She uttered devilishly as she picked up her coat and walked out of the room, quickly followed by Spike.
She frowned as she finished locking the door and turned to see Spike walking over to a car parked in front of her house.
“What’s this?”
“My baby.” He answered with a proud tone, opening the door for her.
“You’re baby?” She questioned, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
“Yep.”
“Since when do you have a car?” She asked as she entered the vehicle.
She waited till he was in before they continued their conversation.
“I’ve had this baby for ages.”
“Then why don’t you drive it to school?” She questioned, but immediately raised her hand and continued: “Don’t answer. Stupid question. You’re ashamed to be seen in this junk.”
“Hey!” He protested. “This ‘junk’ is a classic.”
“Right. That’s why it’s about to fall to apart. Are you sure you don’t wanna just walk?”
He gave her a plastic smile which crumbled in seconds as he started up the car.
“I love this car. Don’t make fun of it. Consider yourself warned, pet.” He grumbled as he drove off.
~+~
Buffy stepped out of the vehicle and waited for Spike to lock it up before heading for the teen infested club. She stopped dead in her tracks when she reached the door.
“What’s the matter, pet?” He asked, cocking up a scarred eyebrow.
She didn’t answer, merely inhaled sharply, letting her chest rise and fall a couple of times before shaking herself off.
“Do you always have to do that?” He asked as he remembered her doing that exact same exercise before their make-out session three days before.
“I’m preparing myself for the battle.” She replied, opening her eyes and walking into the Bronze.
Spike simply shook his head and followed her.
It didn’t take long for them to spot an extremely juiced up Willow practically jumping on her seat as she waved at the approaching couple. Cordelia and Xander sat around the small table, the former trying very hard to remain unnoticed by the crowd.
“Hey, Buffy! You made it!” A very peppy Willow greeted as she threw her arms around the petite blonde’s neck.
“Ah, Will… Need oxygen here.” Buffy managed to breathe.
“Oh, sorry!” Willow piped up, letting go of her.
“She’s been like this for an hour now.” Cordelia grumbled.
Buffy smiled as she tried to reach for a stool but Spike was faster, pulling it out for her to sit. She frowned a bit, but said nothing, nodding and sitting down. She moved to take off her coat, and again, to her surprise, Spike was right there to help her with it. She swallowed hard and gave him a weak smile before turning to the group:
“So… When’s it gonna start?” Buffy asked, scanning the room and realising the evil couple of death wasn’t there yet.
“In half an hour.” Willow quickly answered clapping her hands.
“Half an hour? You said we were going to be late.” Buffy protested glaring at the leather clad boy sitting next to her.
“Was the only way to get you here on time, pet.” He winced as Buffy’s heavy hand hit him in the arm. “Hey!”
“That’s for lying.” She grumbled.
“You’re off easy, man.” Xander spoke up. “You should see what happens to me when- Ouch!” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as someone kicked him hard, under the table. “See what I mean.” He murmured.
Spike gave him a light sympathetic grin and turned to face Buffy.
“You want something to drink, luv?”
“Soda.” She answered as her gaze hovered over the thick crowd.
“Anyone else?”
“I’m fine.” Xander answered.
“I wanna get out of here.” Cordelia grumbled.
Spike turned to look at Willow, but she seemed completely out of it. Without a word he headed for the bar.
“Wow, the place is really packed, huh?” Buffy noted.
“Yeah, isn’t it wonderful?” Willow squeaked bringing her hands together for another hysterical clapping session, but found it impossible as Cordelia held her tightly by her wrists.
“You clap those hands one more time; I swear I’ll bite them off.” The brunette threatened with a murderous glare.
“Gee!” Willow’s eyes widened for a second as she pulled away from the cheerleader’s death-grip.
“Why are you in an even worst mood that usual, Cordy?” Buffy asked.
“Because Miss ‘I suffer from psychoneurotic hysteria’ here has been clapping her hands like the energizer bunny on speed for the past hour.” Cordy grumbled.
“Here you go.” Spike said as he set the soda on the table.
Buffy frowned as she saw the bottle he held in his hands.
“You’re *not* planning on drinking that, are you?”
“Why not?” He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the label.
“You’ll get beer-breath.” She answered.
“So?” He questioned confused.
“You’re not gonna get anywhere near me tonight if you drink that.” She stated.
“But-“
She simply shook her head.
“Bloody hell.” He grumbled setting the beer down and sticking his hands into his pockets.
“Whipped.” Xander coughed, getting a glare from the peroxide teen as he fumbled with a red and white pack.
“No smoking either.” Buffy said, eyeing the cigarette box.
“But, pet…”
“No.”
“Bugger all.” He snarled shoving the pack back in his pockets and before Xander could say anything he growled: “Sod off.”
Xander gave him a wicked grin, but refrained from making any comments, especially considering he wasn’t exactly a free man himself.
“Where’s Oz?” Buffy questioned.
“He’s backstage getting ready.” Willow tried, but couldn’t help her jitteriness slipping into her voice. “I’m just so excited!” She went to bring her hands but managed to repress the impulse as Cordy shot her another one of her dagger spitting glares.
Buffy smiled, bringing her drink to her lips as the conversation started up.
“So, since when are you, Oz and bleach-boy over here soccer-buddies?” She asked tilting her head towards Spike.
“Since Wednesday.” Xander answered simply. “He asked us if we wanted to play after school. Soccer isn’t that bad actually.”
Buffy grinned glancing at the teen sitting next to her, his hand draped across the back of her stool.
“I’m slowly exorcising you all from the evil that is American Football.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“But I still say American Football kicks ass.” Xander piped up.
“Give it time. You’ll come around.” Spike said as his fingers idly began to play with the edge of Buffy’s top.
“I gotta say I’m pro-soccer.” Cordelia joined in on the conversation.
“And another one sees the light! Halleluiah, my brothers!” Spike shouted lifting his arms up in the air, earning a series of glances from the surrounding tables.
“Don’t. Ever. Try to do the American accent, Spike.” Buffy mumbled as she cringed. “It’s just sad… and wrong. Oh, so wrong!” She mocked.
“Ha, ha. Very funny luv.” Spike said with fake enthusiasm as his fingers left her top to massage Buffy’s bare back.
She froze for a second, her muscles contracting at the feel of his rough fingers lazily running up and down her spine, but she soon relaxed as the touch became familiar and even pleasant.
The conversation went on for a few more minutes until the background music was turned off and the lights dimmed down to focus on the small stage at one end of the club.
“Oh, my God! This is it!” Willow squealed while hysterically clapping her hands.
“Someone *please* give this girl a Valium. For my sake.” Cordy begged as a deep male voice was heard coming from the loud speakers:
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please put your hands together for ‘Dingoes Ate My Baby’!”
A roaring sound filled the packed club for a few moments before total silence came and then the first cords of the song were heard. A sharp light focused on the band and Oz finally came into view.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Oz!” Was all that Willow could say before bringing her hands to cover her mouth and just stare at her boyfriend on stage.
The song played out for a while as the group sat around the table. Spike’s hand idly wandered over Buffy’s back and he held his breath as he felt her lean in against him. He froze for a second, but soon brought his arms around her slender form, bringing her closer to him; her head resting on his chest. He closed his eyes for a split second, inhaling her vanilla scent and letting it seep into his brain. God she smelled wonderfully! When the song finally finished, she stood up straight and clapped noisily, along with a very enthusiastic Willow and a moody Cordy. Xander on the other hand, brought his index fingers to his mouth and issued a loud whistle that seemed to pierce the eardrums of everyone around him… including Cordelia. This earned him another strong kick in the shin.
“Ouch!” He protested as he massaged his sore leg.
Spike remained oblivious to his surrounding, for as soon as the music started once more, Buffy leaned back against him in the same fashion she had done moments before. He didn’t know why, but this seemed so… right. He sighed as his arms circled around her once again and he fingered the edge of her top.
The next song was a slow, rock ballad and as a few couples moved to the dance floor, Buffy turned to ask Spike:
“Wanna dance?”
“Sure, pet.” He quickly answered standing up and setting her coat on his stool before leading her to join the dancing couples.
As they reached the dance floor, they came to a dilemma as they awkwardly tried to drape their arms around each other. Eventually, Spike took the lead, worming his arms around her and pulling her towards him as she rested her head over his right shoulder.
A few seconds passed before he heard her whisper:
“Have they seen us yet?”
“What?” He asked frowning.
“Dru and Angel.” She insisted and suddenly he realised she was eyeing someone across the room.
He glanced in the same direction to find the infamous couple having a major make-out session.
“Oh.” He mumbled as he felt a pang in his chest. He couldn’t quite tell if it was due to the pathetic spectacle displayed in front of him or because of the realisation that the girl in his arms had only reciprocated his tender behaviour as part of a façade. He feared it was the latter.
“So are they looking?” She asked anxiously.
“Hum… I don’t think so. Angel’s too busy sticking his tongue down my ex’s throat to notice us.” He answered as he felt revulsion start to boil up in the pit of his stomach.
“Damn it.” She grumbled as she reluctantly moved along with the song’s sluggish beat. “Well, we’ll just have to *make* them notice.” She murmured, slowly turning in his arms, so her back was resting on his chest.
Lazily, her hands grazed over his, making their way from her hips to his shoulders and then across his neck to finally hover in the air above her head. She swayed her hips in small elliptic motions, in time with the slow, soothing rhythm, flexing and stretching her legs to move up and down his body.
Spike closed his eyes, clenching his teeth together, making his sharp chiselled cheekbones more evident, as he searched for the control necessary to keep himself from grabbing her and pinning her against the nearest available hard surface.
Unaware of his reactions, she continued to dance, her eyes closed as she leaned the back of her head on his chest, her blonde hair clinging to the black leather of his duster. She slowly turned to face Spike, managing to throw a quick glance at the couple that stood in the shadows. A soft, triumphant smile curled the edges of her glossy lips as she saw the dumbfounded expression plastered on both their faces. Burying her cheek in Spike’s red shirt, she inhaled sharply. She shook her head, trying to escape the haze that seemed to surround her suddenly. Her stomach started doing those flip-flopping it did whenever she got too close to him. ‘What is this? It shouldn’t feel this way. It’s just… pretend.’ She reminded herself before looking upwards, her nose gliding across his pale, white throat before her lips connected with the sensitive skin there.
Spike gasped as he felt her teeth scrape over his neck on their way to capture his right earlobe. He heard her whisper as she nibbled and suckled the tender piece of flesh into her warm mouth.
“I guess…” kiss “we caught” lick “their attention.”
He felt her smile against his ear and it took him a couple of seconds to come up with a relatively coherent answer.
“Um…” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down a couple of times. “Yeah… I guess.”
“Are they still looking?” She breathed as she tried to ignore her galloping heartbeat.
His scent seemed to intoxicate her as she trailed butterfly kissed down his throat and nuzzled against the crook of his neck. Her hands developed a mind of their own as they snaked down to his waist and wormed their way under his shirt to caress his bare stomach.
Instinctively, he jolted up straight, his hand catching her wrist.
“Luv… what are you… doing?” He managed to ask between gaps.
“Making…” She kissed his neck. “them jealous?” She lied to herself. ‘It’s all part of the plan. Just a plan.’
Spike swallowed hard, once again, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as her tongue traced secret patterns over his neck, her body crushed against his.
“Is it… working?”
He was lost in the sensation to even hear what she was saying. After a while, he felt her whisper against his skin.
“Spike… are they still watching?”
He shook himself out of his daze and glanced at the couple to find them… fighting? He watched as much as he could under hooded eyes as the dark haired girl waved her hands in the air, and from the veins sticking out in her throat, he was pretty sure she was screaming off the top of her lungs.
“They’re… fighting.”
He was distracted as Buffy pressed her body against his and her hands travelled over his chest, instinct and craving causing him to close his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them again, Dru was gone and only Angel remained, leaning against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest and a seriously pissed look plastered on his face.
“What…” Buffy cleared her throat as her breath came in short, urgent pants, making it hard to speak. “… are they doing now?”
He pondered for a few seconds whether or not to tell her the truth. His mind struggled to understand why the thought of her stopping her ministrations made his stomach turn.
In the meantime, Buffy kicked herself mentally as she found herself wishing Dru and Angel were still there, watching them.
“Spike… are they still looking?” She insisted, her mouth still teasing and nibbling at his earlobe. ‘God! He tastes so… Urg! Stop it!’ She screamed inwardly.
In a fraction of a second he made up his mind and, without a word, he nodded slightly and she continued to kiss him. His hands circled her small waist and gruffly brought her closer to him as he captured her lips with his. She let out a soft moan as his tongue plundered her mouth with ravenous urgency.
Her mind seemed to spiral into a dreamy state of consciousness, that place where you feel lighter than air, like you can just hover. The feel of his hands erratically running up and down her back, pulling her to his chest…
Buffy jolted away from him as a loud clapping sound vibrated through the entire room. It took a few seconds, for the blonde couple to realise that there was no music, Oz’s band had just finished their set and were now stepping down from the stage. The two awkwardly eyed each other, both pulling sharp pants from their lungs as reality dawned on them. She felt her heart violently slamming against her chest, a mixture of lust, nervousness and fear causing it to skip a few beats as she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“I gotta go to the bathroom.” She finally blurted out as the uneasiness between them became too unbearable.
Before he could say anything, she had turned on her heels and was currently scurrying her way to the ladies’ room.
~+~
She stared wide-eyed at her reflection in the mirror while a couple of giggling teenagers stood in the corner exchanging gossip. She knew them, from high school; two of Harmony’s brain deprived lackeys. She knew they were talking about the R rated show she and Spike had just given them a few minutes before, but she didn’t care. Right now she was more worried that her heart wouldn’t stop racing, her palms were sweaty and she couldn’t stop thinking about the annoying bleach-boy on the other side of the bathroom door. What was this all about? She wasn’t supposed to be having major erotic dreams with him, or be acting like a fourteen-year old girl with a crush every time he touched her.
She shook her head and ran her hand over her forehead as if to try to erase the images that kept flashing in front of her eyes. Taking a deep breath and adjusting her top, she turned to leave.
An instant cloud of smoke surrounded her as she re-entered the bar, causing her to have a mini coughing fit. When she calmed, she resumed walking, her eyes scanning over the crowed to find the familiar blonde. She felt her heart skip a beat, her entire body contract at the sight of him talking to… Dru?