Chapter Six
Spike looked over at Xander from his seat next to him in the stands. Exactly one month had passed since ‘The Date’ at the Bronze, and the brunette had been walking in a cloudy haze of euphoria ever since. Spike hadn’t been feeling too bad either, since he’d (barely) managed to not have to go out with Harmony again. And, he hadn’t lost his buddy to the new-found romance, since they still went out on Saturdays, and met daily after school. The blonde had found himself spending more time with Willow and Buffy on Fridays, after his and Buffy’s tutoring sessions. Luckily, she seemed to pick up on it some, and they weren’t as frustrating as the first few were. She actually got a B on one of her tests, and had flung herself into this arms, her smile bright. When she pulled back to look onto his eyes, the air had changed around them, and she had stammered some excuse to extricate herself from his arms.
He figured that things were moving along nicely between them. After the tutoring, they would head out to the Bronze, where Willow would be waiting for them. She had become enamored with that guitar player, and made an effort to be there every Friday when they played. So far, she hadn’t actually gotten up the nerve to talk to him, something Spike and Buffy had decided they needed to remedy soon. They talked easily with one another, him telling her stories about London, and her talking about her time in L.A. They both stayed away from topics that were too painful still, like his mother’s death, and her parents’ divorce. They found that they had a lot of the same interests, aside from music. He was the head banging, old rock type, and she preferred the more stylized pop. They constantly berated the other for their choices, but the banter was fun, and not hurtful.
They were close, almost as close and she and Willow, or him and Xander. But there was one obstacle in the way that refused to move. Angel. Invariably, every Friday, he would call with some excuse as to WHY he couldn’t come home that weekend. She would hang up the phone, angry and slightly depressed. Spike would resist the natural urge to say anything to get her to dump the ass, and proceed to try to cheer her up. Dawn would have usually come downstairs by then, to help, her dislike for Angel thick. Joyce always invited him to stay for dinner, and, save for that one night, he did.
Things at home weren’t so bad either. He and his father actually talked now. He would ask about school, and Spike would tell him, and vice versa. He confided, haltingly, in his father that he liked Buffy. Giles had merely smiled, remembering fondly his own youth, and his romance with Rosemary, telling him a few stories about his past. Spike had also tried to tell his father about Xander’s home life. He found that he didn’t have the courage. His father would force the issue, and take action. Thereby forcing the state to take Xander and put him in foster care. Spike didn’t think that his friend would ever forgive him, so he kept silent, hoping he was doing the right thing.
But, right now, sitting in the stands, listening to the engines rev, and the smell of oil and rubber in the air, Spike thought that life was pretty alright. When the green flag dropped, both boys leaned forward, attention riveted to the cars flying around the half mile track, dirt flying up from their wheels. Spike imagined himself behind the wheel, the feeling of near flying coursing through him. He wanted this, he had decided. Wanted it with a passion he had never known in his young life. He and Xander had even talked about putting a team together. Him driving, and Xander keeping the car in order. They lacked funds, however. Spike hoarded every dime he got, and the brunette had taken a job at the local grocery store, stocking shelves on weekends. Once the summer hit, Spike would have the job taking care of the Summers’ lawn, and he thought he might be able to do some other yards as well. He wanted a car, and he wanted it now. Ever the impatient one, he poured over car adds, and had even convinced his father to help him by paying for half. He didn’t tell Rupert that he wanted to race it, knowing instinctively that he would freak.
After the race was over, and to the winner went the spoils, the two friends wandered down to the garage area, looking at the cars as they drove in, each lost in dreams of grandeur.
“I don’t understand why the girls don’t go for this,” Spike said, pulling out a cigarette. Xander shrugged a shoulder, looking longingly at the ’77 Monte Carlo that drove by.
“Don’t know. Must be the estrogen thing.” Spike snorted, figuring it was as good a reason as any. After the last car drove in, they turned and started to walk in the direction of Spike’s house, since Xander was spending the night. He had been doing that a lot lately, and Giles never complained about the extra mouth to feed. Spike never thought to ask why.
“Man, I can’t WAIT until I can get a car,” Spike said, smoke curling around his head when he took a drag. His duster flowed loosely around his ankles, the gentle wind picking up the ends.
“Your dad still putting up half?” Spike nodded, missing the flash of envy in Xander’s eyes. He had come to like Mr. Giles, a lot, the same way he liked Buffy’s mother, and he couldn’t help feeling jealous every once and a while. His father never paid him any mind, unless it was as a punching bag. His mother didn’t care any more than his father did, but at least she just ignored him.
“He’d shit if he knew what I was going to do with it, though.” A chuckle escaped him as he thought of the thousands of glasses polishings that would occur when he found out.
“Yeah, just hope I’m a fly on the wall when it happens,” Xander said with his own chuckle.
“Thanks ever so,” the blonde returned, raising one dark eyebrow. “How’s things with the prom queen?”
“Excellent. Which means that something is going to fuck it up,” Xander said with certainty.
“Why’d you say that?”
“Because, nothing good ever happens to me. She’ll probably wake up one day soon here and remember WHY I’m not good enough for her.” Spike eyed his friend, pausing to crush the cigarette out under his boot.
“Well, as long as the glass is half full, and all that,” he said, sarcastically.
“No, I mean it. What does SHE see in ME?” Xander was still amazed that Cordelia was actively dating him. She was another reason he got the job, cause he didn’t want her to think that he couldn’t pay. As it were, they never did anything more elaborate than going to the Bronze or a movie. She never made him feel bad about it, even though he knew that the other guys she had dated probably took her to fancy restaurants and country clubs. He was starting to become very afraid that he was falling in love with her, and he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Well, maybe it’s cause you’re funny, considerate, not too bad looking. Could use some help in the dressing department. You have manners, when you choose to use them, and you treat her with respect. Hell, if I was a girl, I’d date you.” Xander snorted at that, kicking a rock with his shoe.
“Thanks. I think.”
“Just stop worrying about it. Enjoy it. Let whatever is going to happen, happen. And, if by some extreme idiocy on her part, she does decide to dump you? You can at least tell your grandchildren that you dated the most popular girl in school, and tell them how YOU left HER.” Spike tilted his head to the side, a smile curving his lips.
“Oh, the same way that you’re going to tell YOUR grandchildren the same thing about Buffy?” Spike scowled at that, causing Xander to laugh.
“Ha bloody ha,” Spike said, stalking into the night.
“What? It was funny.” Xander followed Spike, chuckling at the black clad back of his annoyed friend.
~*~*~
About two weeks later, Cordelia was sitting with her group of friends, half listening to them as she waited for Xander. Harmony had been on a severe ‘dis Spike’ campaign, and the others in the group had avidly agreed with her. Cordy couldn’t bring herself to care very much. She got what she wanted, and at least Harm had gotten to go out with the blonde once. Something that no other girl in the school had managed. Cordy knew it was because none of them were named Buffy Summers. Xander had told her about the fascination the Brit had for the girl.
“GOD, Cordy. Are you even listening to me?” Harmony whined, pulling the brunette from her thoughts. She turned cool, brown eyes on the other girl, a delicate brow arching up.
“No, actually, I wasn’t. This song is a little boring. Get over it already,” Cordy told her, her tone none too gentle. Harmony’s face colored to an unpleasant red, and anger twisted her features.
“Oh, and always hearing the praises of one loser Xander Harris is just thrilling for us?” she asked, her words scathing.
“You’re just pissed cause Spike wasn’t interested. Don’t take it out on Xander.”
“He leaves himself open for it. I mean, just think about it Cordy. Look at the way he dresses, you can’t take him anywhere. Have you introduced him to your parents yet?” At Cordy’s guilty look, Harmony pounced.
“See, you’re ashamed of him. What’s the point of dating someone you wouldn’t take home? I mean, he is such a goof,” she finished, rolling her eyes. The other girls tittered with laughter, and Cordy felt her face start to flame. Her heart was pounding in her chest as everything she had ever said to, and about, Xander popped through her mind. She knew he wasn’t any of those things, but she had always been the pretty one, the popular one. The one that led, not followed. But here her friends were, ridiculing her boyfriend, and trying to make her feel stupid for dating him. Her head was swimming with all these things when Xander started to walk up behind them.
“Oh God, here he comes,” Harmony sneered, disdain turning her pretty face ugly. Cordelia just blinked at the news, her thoughts still jumbled in her head. She jerked when she felt his hand on her shoulder, and turned her eyes up to his. He frowned at the panic he read there, and leaned down to brush a reassuring kiss on her lips. When all he encountered was her turned cheek, he pulled back, dark eyes searching her face. Snickers from the other girls reached his ears, and suddenly things started to click. Hurt flashed through his eyes and he waited for her to prove him wrong.
Guilt flared inside of Cordelia’s chest, and her heart squeezed painfully. *How could she do this to him?*, her mind screamed, as he turned and walked away from her, not a word passing between them. *I am such a bitch* she thought, feeling her heart starting to break. She looked around the table at the smirking girls, a thought piercing her brain. These people were not her friends. All they cared about was how much money she had, or which designer she wore, or what kind of car she drove. But Xander. . .Xander didn’t care about any of that. All he saw when he looked at her was HER, Cordelia Chase, the girl. She’d be a fool to throw that away. Glaring around the table at the people she had called ‘friend’, she sent them all withering glares and was after him in a matter of seconds.
“XANDER!” she called, running towards where he was standing with Spike. The blonde shot her a glare, but she ignored him, her eyes only for Xander. When he turned towards her, his eyes were so full of hurt, she thought she would choke on it. He had thought that what they had was special, something that went beyond social barriers and petty opinions. Apparently, the other shoe had dropped.
“WHAT!” he snapped, anger hardening the plains if his face, making him seem immovable.
“I’m sorry. . .I. . I. . .” she stammered, for once losing her cool, controlled demeanor.
“You what? Decided you were tired of slumming?” Spike winced at the use of his own words. He desperately wished he could take them back now. “Decided that Alexander Harris really was the loser you always thought? Or, maybe,” he moved closer, until their faces were merely inches apart. “Maybe you really are just a shallow bitch.” Spike snorted in agreement, a tiny part of him responding to the absolute desperation in the girl’s eyes. None of them noticed the crowd around them growing, or that Buffy and Willow had come up to stand next to Spike. They looked at him questioningly, but he just shook his head.
“You’re right,” she said softly, her eyes downcast.
“What?”
“You’re right,” Cordelia repeated louder, looking up at him. “I am a shallow bitch. I’m so sorry. I thought. . .” She blinked back the tears threatening to fall. And straightened her shoulders. She looked him straight in the eye as her next words rang through the hallway, shocking everyone. “Xander Harris, I love you. And I don’t care who knows it.”
You could have heard a pin drop as Xander’s jaw dropped open at her admission. Everyone held their breath as they waited for him to snap out of it and answer her. She stood statuesque and tall, her face daring anyone in the hall to say something. He looked down at her, a huge grin starting to spread across his face.
“Say it again,” he said, hope and uncertainty replacing the anger in his eyes. An answering smile began to bloom on her lips, and she rolled her eyes.
“I. LOVE. YOU. Get it that time?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her dark eyes twinkling. Xander reached out and pulled her to him, his brown eyed gazed searching hers.
“Yeah, I got it.” His fingers tightened in the silk of her red blouse, his heart feeling about to burst. “I love you too.” When they kissed, a huge cheer rose through the hall, laughs and cat calls interspersed.
“Why do I feel like I just walked into the ending of one of those bloody teen movies?” Spike asked, jumping when Buffy hit him. He turned to find Willow and Buffy glaring daggers at him. “Wha?”
“Shut up. It’s romantic,” Buffy said with a sigh, her glare turning dreamy when she looked back at the brunette couple. Willow was equally as lost in a romantic haze, and Spike swore he was going to hurl. Rolling his eyes, he turned to pull his books out of his locker, a smile tugging at his own lips. *Poof* he scoffed at himself, turning back towards the girls, noticing the crowd starting to dissipate.
“Shall we leave them in peace? Think they’ve got a lot to talk about. And you have a final to study for.” Buffy scowled up at him, letting out a disgusted sigh. Willow giggled, turning it into a cough when the blonde girl turned her glare to her.
“You sure know how to kill a mood,” Buffy grumbled, stalking away. Willow and Spike exchanged a look and followed her, leaving the couple still kissing in the hallway.
~*~*~
“So, when are you going to talk to him?” Buffy asked Willow, as they made their way to the ladies room. She saw her friend’s face flame at the thought, and barely suppressed a chuckle.
“How bout never?” she suggested, going into one of the stalls and slamming the door.
“Oh, come on, Will. He’s totally hot, and you’re not involved, so, what’s stopping you?” Buffy asked, checking her makeup in the mirror.
“Abject terror,” Willow responded, coming out to look at herself in the mirror. What would a six foot four if he was an inch, lean mean guitar playing machine want with mousy old her? Her mouth pursed into a frown as she looked at her attire. Denim overalls and a green and white striped shirt was about the most exciting thing she had in her wardrobe. Her russet hair was pulled into a tight french braid, and she was makeup free.
“Why? He’s just a guy. Just pretend he’s Spike or Xander, and you should be fine,” Buffy offered, running a brush through her hair.
“Except that I don’t want to jump Spike or Xander,” Willow returned. “I’m too. . .normal, for a guy like him,” she decided. Buffy arched one dark honey brow. “You’re more the sort he would go out with,” she said, eyeing the snug black jeans, and white poets shirt that Buffy was wearing.
“And you know this, how? Assuming that he is a shallow jackass that only sees what a girl is wearing, or not wearing as the case may be, is like assuming Spike is a dumbass stoner,” Buffy told her pointedly. Suddenly, she had an idea, and began pulling beauty supplies out of her purse. Just then, Cordelia walked in, and saw what she was doing.
“Damn, Buff. I thought you went for a more natural look,” she said, looking at the display of cosmetics lining the sink. Buffy rolled her eyes.
“It’s not for me. It’s for Willow.” The redhead’s eyes widened comically at that. “She has a thing for the hottie guitar player,” she whispered.
“No. . .no thing. No makeup,” Willow stammered, backing away slowly.
“What, she needs a little confidence to talk to him?” Cordy asked Buffy, as both girls ignored the panicked girl.
“Yeah. Thought maybe if she felt pretty, even though she already is, she might get the nerve up.” Cordy turned practiced, appraising eyes on the cringing girl, doing a once over.
“I think we might be able to do something.” Cordelia plunked her bag down on the counter, and started pulling out her own assembly of beauty products. A portable curling iron and hair spray not the least of what she had.
“And you said I have a lot of makeup?” Buffy said, incredulous.
“You never know when situations like these might pop up.” When the cosmetics were arranged, they both turned to Willow, who was staring at the display like it was an arrangement of torture devices.
“Be a good little girl and come over here,” Buffy said, easing towards her friend.
“Yeah, we don’t bite,” Cordy offered, angling on the other side of her. Willow’s eyes darted between them, and she let out a squeak when they each seized an arm, and hauled her over to the bench that lined the wall.
“Now, sit still,” they said, as they each brandished an instrument and went to work.
~*~*~
“What the hell is taking those chits so long?” Spike huffed. He and Xander were in their usual spot by the pool table, waiting rather impatiently for the girls to return.
“I dunno. Here’s my question, why do they all have to go to the bathroom in groups of two or more? Guys don’t.” Spike shrugged, and turned to the stage when it was Xander’s turn. The band had just finished playing their first set, and were taking a break. Spike thought briefly about finding the guitar player, and talking to him, but as he glanced over at the ladies room all thought ran straight out of his head.
The three visions that were making their way to the table, had not been the three girls that walked into the bathroom. Sure, they were all gorgeous before they walked in, but now. . .they glowed. And Willow was wearing makeup, he thought hazily. And her hair was different. It was no longer braided, and it hung in curls around her shoulders. Her green eyes were lined in smoke, and her lips were shiny with peach tinted gloss.
Spike glanced over at Xander, and found that he was just as entranced.
“Well, look at this. Red, my dear, you are lovely,” Spike said, smiling at her. She blushed prettily and dropped her eyes to the floor.
“Thanks.”
“Wow, Will. Just…wow,” was all Xander could come up with, but her smile was beaming all the same.
“See, you passed the test. Now, seek and destroy,” Buffy told her friend, turning her in the direction of where the target in question was seated at the bar, drinking a soda, and munching on peanuts. The quartet watched as Willow made her way slowly over to the bar, then slid into the stool next to him. He turned to her almost immediately, a slow grin curling his lip.
“You ladies did a wonderful job,” Spike said to Buffy when she came over to stand next to him. He looked down into her eyes, his blue orbs looking right into the heart of her. Buffy didn’t think that she would ever get used to the way he did that, or the way her breath would hitch when he did it. She was finding it harder and harder to resist the pull to him, and she constantly had to push thoughts of him away.
“Thanks,” she mumbled, looking away. A brow shot up, and he felt that somehow, he was finally getting through. Leaning the pool cue against the side of the table, he boldly took her hand and started walking toward the dance floor. “Where are we going?” she gasped, dragging her heels a bit.
“Dance with me,” was all he said, as a slow song started to play. Her eyes got wide, and owlish, and she had the distinct feeling that dancing with him would be the biggest mistake in her life. But, her voice refused to cooperate when she wanted to tell him no. And her body turned traitor on her when he wrapped a hand around her waist, gently pulling her to him. He begin to slowly sway to the rhythm of the music, his eyes burning into hers as she immediately fell into synch with him. Her hands drifted of their own accord to hook around the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the softness of his hair. He slipped his other arm around her waist, sliding his hand up to the middle of her back. As per usual when they found themselves standing too close, or staring at each other for too long, the world around them melted away. The only two people in the room were them, the only sound permeating their consciousness was the song.
Buffy felt like she was drowning in his eyes. He never looked away from her, just kept up the steady swaying of their bodies, the contact making her dizzy. Instinctively, they moved closer, until she was pulled flush against him, the softness of her breasts crushed against the hardness of his chest. His hands played over her back, causing little shivers to dance across her skin. Her lips parted slightly on a gasp when she felt the evidence of her affect on him brush against her stomach.
*STOP DANCING NOW!* her mind screamed, but her body just kept moving, squeezing ever closer to the hardness that was him. His scent tickled her nose, cigarettes, soap, and spicy smelling aftershave. Those eyes of his kept darkening as the seconds passed, and she watched in fascination as they became near black. She didn’t realize that their faces were getting closer to each other, until she felt his breath tease her lips. She gasped again in the instant before he closed the distance between them, none of the resolve she’d had after the movie anywhere to be seen.
Spike managed to control himself and not plunder her mouth like he had been dreaming of for weeks. Instead, he barely swept the tip of tongue around the line of her lips, gently teasing her. Her fingers tightened on the nape of his neck, and her eyes drifted closed. This was the way she had always wanted to be kissed, like she was a fine wine to be savored. His lips brushed across hers, and his tongue slid partially between her parted lips, enticing hers to come out and play. Tentatively, it did. Just the very tips brushed, and Spike had to keep himself in check again. His blood was racing through his veins, and he was having a hard time breathing. She was so soft and warm in his arms, her mouth so sweet and tender.
Buffy was lost to all coherent thought as they kissed. Neither had moved to deepen it, content at the moment to play. When his teeth nipped lightly at the swell of her bottom lip, something within her broke. Suddenly, the soft touches weren’t enough. She needed more. With a moan that was swallowed by his mouth, Buffy pushed her tongue fully into his eager mouth, sliding it over his with rapture. Gone was the gentle exploration, in it’s place was a ravenous hunger, something she had never felt kissing Angel. Arms tightened as heads angled to deepen the penetration of their tongues. Fingers curled into fists as electricity and heat sang along their nerves, culminating in a spot south. Her skin was on fire, and she knew that he could cool it.
They had stopped pretending to dance a long time ago, and they hadn’t realized that they were making quite a spectacle on the dance floor. All that mattered was each other. Buffy was the first to pull away for air, her cloudy, hazel eyes staring up into his. He held her trembling frame steady, his own senses on overload. His blue orbs were awe-filled as he looked down at her. He had never been so swept up in a kiss that he forgot who and where he was. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew this girl was the one.
Something must have shown in his eyes, because a sudden flash of panic, followed quickly by reality crashing down, crossed her face. She pushed away from him, her fingers coming up to her lips, her eyes huge. He just watched her, waiting for her reaction. He scowled when he got it.
Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked out of the club.