Chapter Thirteen
Willow sighed contentedly, just happy to be laying in Mark’s arms. She knew what was going on in the other rooms, she didn’t need to be a psychic to figure it out. The tension that had been swirling around the other two couples had been electric. Not to say that the UST around her and Mark wasn’t equally as heady, it was just, different. Since their first date, everything just seemed to fall together for them. It was almost as if their souls had recognized each other, which she never would have said out loud. Too cheesy romance novel sounding. But, it was true. They had known each other two and a half months, and already, there was nothing they didn’t know about the other. She knew he was raised by his grandparents after his parents died. He knew that her parents were less than noticing of her. She knew his likes, his wants and his dreams. Just as he knew hers. They talked about anything and everything, realizing pretty quick that they were in love. Then, things had progressed naturally. They had already made love for the first time a week before. She hadn’t told Buffy yet, because she didn’t want her friend to feel pressured into sleeping with Spike, so she wouldn’t be the only one left. Plus, it had been so absolutely amazing and beautiful, that she had wanted to hold it close, and not share it for a while.
So, here they were, lying naked and content in each other’s arms. Mark’s face was buried in her hair, his hard body spooned behind hers, his thumb lazily brushing the underside of her breast. She looked down at her own hand, which was resting on his wrist, smiling at the contrast of pale against dark. He was so beautiful, his lean, muscular form a work of art. She often teased him that he looked like one those models on the cover of a romance book. He would then scowl, saying that none of them would know what a real Indian was if he got shot in the butt by an arrow.
“Whatcha thinking about?” he asked, his voice tired. His hand had moved to cover her breast, lightly massaging the nipple.
“Mmm.” She sighed, arching her back. “Nothing,” she told him, snuggling closer to him. He shifted them, until he was settled between her legs, resting on his forearms to stare down at her. Her hands slid down his shoulders, her fingers playing in the long ends of his hair. “You,” she admitted, smiling. He arched a brow, smiling back.
“Me, huh?” He leaned down and brushed her lips with his. “What about me?” Another kiss, this one a little deeper had her brain clouding. She opened her thighs a little wider, allowing him to settle even more firmly against her. She sighed at the feel of his hard, rubber covered, length poking against her entrance. With a slight thrust, he was in, their moans combined into one.
She never answered his question as he began to move inside of her, his thrusts long and deep. Their tongues moved in a slow dance, their hands touched everywhere. His hair tickled the side of her cheek, the silky tresses shielding her from the light of the lamp. Their orgasms built slowly, neither in a rush to get there. He broke the kiss as he felt her start to flutter around him. That, combined with the sound of her breathlessly moaning his name, and the look of love in her eyes sent him over right behind her, and they clung desperately to each other as the tremors overtook them. Once they were calmed, he pulled out of her, mindful of the condom. After he had disposed of it, he returned to the bed, and pulled her against him, lightly kissing her forehead. It wasn’t long before they were asleep.
~*~*~
“Alright, crank it,” Mark called, looking down at the engine as Spike turned the key. It sputtered once, then flared to life, the roaring sound of the engine nearly deafening. A war whoop filled the air, and Spike climbed out of the car, grinning like a madman. Grease and soot were smeared across their faces and arms. It had taken nearly a month, and the help of Cordy’s gold card (used only under the understanding that they would pay her back. Their stipulation, not hers), but it was running. Spike had learned a thing or two about what happened under the hood, and how to communicate it if he had problems. Mark had come through with the parts, and they had worked steadily, spending nearly every waking moment working on it. Xander was in hog heaven, and he rarely went anywhere but home, work, then to the storage shed they were renting to store it. That is, unless Cordy, or one of the other girls, or all three demanded attention. Then, they snapped to and took care of their ladies.
Spike felt a touch of guilt that he was deceiving his father. Rupert had no idea what his intentions were with the car. He just thought Spike had wanted something to drive. However, the blonde knew just what would happen if he was found out. He’d wait, until after he had won a few races, then he would tell him. Spike never doubted that he would win. In his mind, it wasn’t even a consideration.
“We did it,” Spike said, listening to the hum of the engine. The car wasn’t any prettier than it had been. They had fixed the body with putty, and had painted it with black primer. Not the most pleasing thing, but it wasn’t wanted for looks. They had ripped out the interior, and had put in the roll cage, as well as the seat and five point harness that Spike would need to keep him safe.
“Yeah. We did. Now, all we got to do is see how she handles,” Mark said, slamming the hood closed. Spike grinned wildly, and climbed back behind the wheel. He was newly licensed and ready to burn some rubber. “I’ll follow,” Mark called, walking to his Mustang. Spike waited until he was behind the wheel, and pulling out, to take off. Wind whipped through the windows as the cars sped through the twilight. Luckily, the main drag out of town was deserted, so Spike was able to open her up. He hit ninety with no problems, the car jetting smoothly up the road. Spike felt like he was flying, and he never wanted the feeling to stop. He took the curve in the road sharply, deftly swerving to keep from plowing into the station wagon on the other side. A tractor trailer was barreling at him, it’s horn blaring loudly in the air. Spike’s heart was pumping and adrenaline coursed through his veins. At the last second, he swerved back into the right lane, laughing like a loon. He slowed when he saw an embankment, and pulled into it, gravel and dust flying up from the tires. Mark pulled in behind him, his own car skidding to a stop.
“You’re a fucking nut!” Mark told him when he climbed out, grinning and pulling out a cigarette as he walked. “How’d she do?” he asked, reaching over Spike to pop the hood.
“Like a dream. She’s perfect,” the blonde replied, pulling out his own smoke. “Nothing’ll touch me.” Mark grunted as he looked at the engine, inspecting for leaks or any other problems. Nodding in satisfaction, he stood back up.
“I’d say she’s ready,” he confirmed, laughing at Spike’s kid in the candy store look.
“Fuckin’ A she’s ready,” Spike told him.
“I’m going to go pick up Willow. Try not to undo everything we’ve done,” Mark told him, crushing out his cigarette and walking back to his car.
“Right. See ya,” Spike said, climbing back inside. He needed to go find Xander. He’d had to work that night, and what better way to let him know about the car than to pick him up?
With a laugh and a roar of the engine, the big black car sped off into the night.
~*~*~
“Why in God’s name would we want to go the track?” Buffy asked, looking at Spike, who was sitting in her living room. Dawn was sprawled out on the floor, head propped up in her hand as she listened to the older kids talk. Xander and Cordy were there, but Willow and Mark were at the Bronze, as he was scheduled to play for the back to school party the club was having. The other four were heading there after Joyce got home. Spike looked at his girlfriend, who was standing with her arms crossed over the floral peasant blouse she was wearing. Her short, brown skirt skimmed the middle of her thighs, and she had on a pair of brown suede boots that hugged her calf to her thigh. Her golden hair was twisted up in a knot, large hoops adorned her ears. He thought she looked delicious.
“Because, pet. I’m racing tomorrow.” Her eyes widened at his declaration.
“Tomorrow? You guys just got the thing running, and you already want to take it to the track?” she asked, a look of concern crossing her face. She still wasn’t sure about this. She had watched a race or two with them when they were just hanging out at Giles’, and her heart had leapt into her throat when a wreck would happen.
“S’good a time as any. Need to see what she’ll do,” he answered, crunching his lollipop. Xander and Cordy watched the discussion go on like spectators at a tennis match, eyes shooting between them as they spoke.
“So, you want me there, for what? Moral support?” Spike barely managed not to roll his eyes. Barely. Things had seemed to get strained between them as the car neared completion, and he didn’t feel like fighting right now.
“Yeah, actually.” Buffy sighed, then smiled. She loved him, and it was her duty to support him. Even if she thought he was being an idiot. Anyway, he might do it and decide he hated it.
“Alright. I’ll be there. You going?” she asked Cordy. Cordy blinked and looked at her, a faraway expression on her face.
“What? Oh, yeah. I’ll be there. Need to see what my investment will do,” she answered, smiling. She looked tired, and her voice sounded off. Xander looked at her questioningly, but she just shook her head.
“Yeah, tomorrow Sunnydale Motor Track, next month, Talladega,” Spike exclaimed with a chuckle. Buffy rolled her eyes, and went to sit next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and leaning her head on his chest.
“You’ll be careful?” she whispered, her anxiety seeping into her words.
“Always,” he assured, curling his arm around her shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, the scent of vanilla tickling his nose. He relished the feel of her in his arms, something that hadn’t occurred too much over the last month. But, he promised himself he would make up for it, especially with school getting ready to start. He would be back under house arrest, until after the end of the first quarter. Then Rupert would evaluate the situation again. Didn’t matter that he had pulled off his usual high marks at the end of the last year, as well as pass those stupid tests Snyder had insisted on. Giles wasn’t taking any chances.
“Hi kids,” Joyce called as she walked inside.
“Hi mom,” Buffy called.
“Hi mom,” Dawn echoed.
Cordy, Xander and Spike also called their hellos.
“What’s everybody doing tonight?” she asked, shrugging out of her jacket.
“Bronzing,” Buffy answered, standing and pulling Spike with her. The other couple stood as well.
“Don’t be late,” she told them as they filed out.
“Alright. Goodnight.”
“Night, Nibblet, Mrs. Summers,” Spike called, flashing a smile before disappearing out the door. When it shut behind them, Dawn looked at her mother, concern wrinkling her brow.
“What’s the matter, Mom?” she asked, pushing up from the floor, and walking over to her. Joyce paused in rubbing her temple to smile down at her.
“Nothing honey. Just a little headache. Have you eaten?” Dawn shook her head. “Go get your shoes on. We’ll go get some pizza.” Dawn squealed and raced up the stairs. They NEVER went OUT for pizza. She knew they would go to Tony’s, the best pizza in town, which didn’t deliver. Joyce laughed as she watched the excited child take off, and absently began rubbing her temple again.
~*~*~
Buffy sat nervously next to Willow and Cordy, her hazel eyes scanning the two rows of cars on the track. They were waiting for the race to begin and already she felt sick. Xander was down by the car, talking to Spike and making sure everything was set to go. They watched as he pounded a hand on the door, gave Spike a wave and started towards the pits. They had gotten there early in order to get good seats, and they were in the third row. The smell of oil and rubber swirled around them, adding to the sick feeling that she already had. Willow sat beside her, studying everything around her. Mark wasn’t there. The band had a gig in LA, and she hadn’t been able to go, so she came with her friends. Cordy sat on the other side, eyes distant.
“When does this thing start?” Buffy demanded. *So I know when it will be over.* Horrible images of cars flipping and catching on fire were giddily playing through her mind, and she wasn’t sure how much of this she could take.
“I guess in a couple of minutes,” Willow answered. She was amazed that so many people were there, hardly a seat was empty. Who knew that racing was so popular in Sunnydale?
“I wish they’d get on with it.”
“Nervous?” the redhead asked, smiling. It faded when she saw just how terrified her friend was. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed. Buffy snorted.
“What if he gets hurt?” she asked, turning desperate eyes to her friend.
“Think positive. I’m sure everything will be alright. Right, Cordy?” They both looked at the brunette, seeing that she wasn’t paying them any attention. “Cordy?”
“Hm. What?” The prom queen turned to look at them, confused.
“Are you okay?” Buffy asked her. A flash of panic shot through her brown orbs, but she suppressed it quickly.
“Yeah. Fine,” she answered, hoping they didn’t press. “Look, the race is starting.” All eyes turned to the track, as the sound of reving engines reached deafening proportions. Cordy thanked God for the distraction.
Buffy gnawed on a nail, fighting the urge to close her eyes as they took off around the half mile track. They watched as Spike steadily, and ruthlessly cut his way through the pack. When he reached the front, they were on their feet, screaming until they were hoarse. Buffy’s heart slammed into her chest when a Thunderbird slammed into his back end, nearly sending him into a spin. He kept control though, straightening and slamming on the gas to pull ahead. She lost count of how many laps they had done, too busy watching the action on the field. He had lost the lead once, when he blew out a tire. Once he was back out though, he wasted no time getting back up to the front, rubbing paint with the T bird that had bumped him earlier.
By the time the race ended, and Spike had taken the checkered flag, Buffy was jumping up and down, hands clutching onto her friends, who were likewise occupied. When he pulled into victory lane, they jetted out of the stands, to make their way down there. Xander was already there, and the two males were embracing, idiot grins on their faces. When he saw Buffy rushing towards him, Spike let go of his friend, and caught her as she flew into his arms, spinning her around. When they came to a stop, he kissed her, passion and exhilaration thrumming in his veins. She held on as he tried to devour her, her own adrenaline pumping.
He tore away form her with a war whoop, oblivious to everybody around him, save her. It took the owner of the track several tries to get Spike’s attention and give him his prize money. Spike accepted it gratefully, swinging Buffy around again, both of them laughing.
“I did it, pet,” he said, when he finally let her back down to earth.
“You did it,” she agreed, kissing him back hungrily when he leaned down again.
“So, where to now? The Bronze to celebrate?” Xander suggested, his silly grin still firmly in place. Cordy held onto his hand, smiling a real smile for the first time in the last few days.
“Bloody right,” Spike agreed. Willow leaned up and kissed his cheek.
“Congratulations, Speedy,” she teased, green eyes dancing. “Mark wanted to be here,” she offered apologetically. Spike waved her off.
“I know. He has his own dream to follow,” he told her, grinning.
“Let’s go celebrate!” Xander exclaimed, pulling Cordy with him toward the parking lot. Willow followed, and Spike reluctantly let Buffy go. He watched her walk away for a moment, then slid into the DeSoto, it’s tough exterior sporting a few more dents, but it’s engine still purring happily.
~*~*~
Every Saturday night, Spike would race, more often than not finishing in the top five. As the weeks progressed, Spike found himself as a sort of celebrity around town, not able to go anywhere without somebody knowing who he was. Xander and Buffy had the same problem. Spike ate it up, while it made Buffy somewhat uncomfortable. And she really wasn’t impressed with the new found interest of the female fans. She’d had to threaten a few with some interesting displays of violence before they would get the clue.
Of course, the really funny part, was when Giles found out. Spike hadn’t told him yet, stalling for as long as he could. Then, one day, a regular at the track had come into the gallery. She had seen Giles’ nameplate on the desk and had asked him if he was related to Spike. He had said he was, thoroughly not prepared for what he heard. She gave a him a full regalia of his son’s accomplishments, causing shock to permeate his being. He had then gone home, telling Joyce he needed to take care of something.
When he had arrived at the house, he encountered the two boys doing their homework, laughing and carrying on as boys do. Spike had been surprised to see him, and even more surprised to see the anger simmering in his father’s eyes. He knew he was in for it when Rupert asked Xander to excuse them.
The brunette was no sooner out of the room when Giles reared on his son. He wanted to know just what in the bloody hell did he think he was doing? Spike had replied in kind, and the two Brits got into the first real fight they had ever had. Xander, who had been trying not to listen in Spike’s room, had been afraid that it was going to come to blows at one point.
Then, it had quieted down, and he had ventured out into the living room to see them, sitting on opposite sides of the room, angry glowers on both of their faces. They had come to an impasse. Giles had realized that he couldn’t tell the boy what to do, not with his nineteenth birthday coming in a month. Not to mention, that Spike was following his father’s rules to the letter, so he couldn’t fault him there. He would have loved to be able to say that it was the fact that Spike had deceived him that had gotten him so angry. But, in reality, it was the danger his son was willingly putting himself in that terrified him.
Spike had realized that his father was only concerned about him, and the angry words that had been flung at him were borne of that concern. In the end, it was a draw, and all they could do was agree to disagree. If this was what Spike wanted to do with his life, Giles couldn’t very well tell him no. However, that didn’t mean that he had to like it, or watch. Or help pay for it.
Joyce had been equally shocked when she found out, lecturing the boys about safety and cars not being toys. They had dutifully listened, then went on about their business. Dawn had started to go to the track with them, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. It also gave her primo bonding time with the teenagers. Buffy went through the combination of fear and excitement every time he strapped into the car. Her heart would race, then stop when he would come precariously close to wrecking. But, somehow, he managed to pull himself back before anything disastrous happened.
Buffy watched all this with amusement. It was hard not to get caught up in his excitement, and feed off of it. He and Xander were as giddy as kids at Christmas, drawing the rest of them in. Except Cordy. She had been getting more and more quiet as the weeks went on. Whenever Xander looked at her, she would manage to put on a bright smile, but her usually vibrant manner seemed stilted. Several times, the girls had tried to get her to talk, but she would say that nothing was wrong, then change the subject. They let her, since she didn’t look ill. However, they made a pact, that if the brunette didn’t snap out of it soon, they would corner her, and not give her a chance to duck out of it.