Chapter 11
Elizabeth groaned as the shrill beeping filled her small dorm room. Or, at least, she would’ve groaned if she were conscious enough to do so.
Willow was more used to waking up early and managed to do so, however. “Turn that damn thing off!” she complained, pulling her pillow up around her ears.
Elizabeth’s arm swatted wildly at the offending alarm clock several times before she finally managed to make contact with it. Blessed silence once again surrounded them when Elizabeth successfully located the off-switch.
“And you think chemistry meets at an ungodly hour,” Willow grumbled under her breath before rolling over and falling back to sleep.
Elizabeth seriously considered murdering her friend in a fit of jealous rage at that moment. No one ever should have to wake up to an alarm at five o’clock in the morning…
Still in complete zombie mode, Elizabeth managed to pull on her bathrobe and stagger out into the hallway. She instinctively headed towards the bathroom until she remembered she had another destination, and, groaning, she made her way down the hallway to room number three-twelve.
Her first knock was probably inaudible because she let out a massive yawn just as her knuckles hit the wooden door. However, the second, third, fourth, and fifth were all plenty loud, yet she still got no response.
Elizabeth sighed and tried the knob; it was unlocked.
“Spike?” she whispered sleepily, poking her head in.
The heaping pile of blankets in the middle of the bed didn’t move.
“Spike?” she repeated, a bit annoyed, closing the door behind her so that any noise they made wouldn’t disturb anyone else on the floor. For a second, the giddy, half-asleep notion that he’d just piled up his blankets to make it look like he was in bed crossed her mind, but then she spotted a shock of peroxide white hair sticking out of the blankets.
She walked over to the bed. “Spike!” she repeated. Still nothing.
She reached over, found his shoulder, and shook it lightly. “Spike!”
“Mmm, ‘s ‘n mmm, mmm…”
Well, at least that was something.
“Spike, wake up!” she yawned. “Now!” She gave his shoulder a hard poke.
“Jus’ five more minutes,” he grumbled under his breath, burrowing his head into the pillow.
Elizabeth sighed. It was way too early in the morning for this. “Didn’t you even set your alarm…?” she began. However, she then noticed that it had been flung all the way across the room, its cord jerked roughly from the wall outlet; that indicated all too clearly that it had gone off.
“Spike!” she caught his pillow and yanked it out from under his head.
“Huh? What?” he blinked up at her, confused, sleepy, and startled.
“We have to be on the bus in less than half an hour,” she informed him, fighting back another yawn.
“Summers?” he seemed to finally register who she was. He sat up slowly, stretching and yawning like a giant cat as he did so, one hand scratching through his disheveled platinum hair. “Bus?”
“Regionals?” she reminded him.
He blinked at her through drooping eyelids a couple of times. “Oh, right…” he finally remembered, moving to get up. Fortunately, he’d had the foresight the night before to dress before he went to bed.
“You up then?” Elizabeth yawned again.
He managed a weak nod.
“Good,” she agreed, “I’ll be back here just as soon as I’m done in the bathroom…”
* * *
Elizabeth awoke, two hours later, feeling like she’d been run over by a trunk. Her neck was all cramped up from the way she’d been lying against the metal window frame, and she was convinced that her knees were going to be permanently stuck bent in the awkward position they’d managed to acquire while she slept.
She began a rather futile attempt at stretching. Even though the bus had those nice, big cushioned seats with the high backs, it was still too cramped for her usual routine. Maybe the aisle…
She sat up to face an irritating, cocky smirk.
“Nice nap, luv?” Spike asked lightly.
“I think my head got twisted on backwards, somehow,” she complained, rubbing the sore muscles. “And weren’t you sitting up front?”
He shrugged and leaned back in the double seat across the aisle from her. “Kendra fell asleep,” he said simply.
“And I’m better company while I’m unconscious than she is?” Elizabeth retorted a bit more snidely than she’d intended.
The truth was that the level of camaraderie between them had dipped off ever since her rejection of him, and she really didn’t know what to do to get it back. Hell, she wasn’t even sure it was possible. Trying desperately to ignore the gorgeous, clever, sexy young man across from her who she had chosen not to be her boyfriend, she stood up and did a few basic stretches in the aisle.
“Ooh, I like that, pet,” Spike teased, seemingly back to the simple friendly banter that had proceeded their almost-kiss in the dojo. Elizabeth envied him his apparent nonchalance. “Very flexible…”
“Let me guess,” she tried teasing him back, “you’re one of those guys that joins fitness clubs just to watch the aerobics classes?” She easily reached down to touch her toes, lolling her head around on her neck as she did so.
“Tried it,” he commented with a bemused grin, “but decided it was cheaper jus’ to watch you.”
She cast him an annoyed scowl over her shoulder before assessing the space she had behind her. It should be just enough… She completed the simple back walkover without incident. There were times when being short had its definite advantages.
“Not to mention you bend in all sorts ‘f…delicious ways…” Spike licked his lips seductively.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and plopped back down in her seat, resigning herself to the fact that she was probably going to have to put up with him for the entire rest of the trip. “Where are we?” she asked, kneading that one muscle in her neck that persisted in tensing up.
“Middle ‘f nowhere, New York,” Spike shrugged.
“We’re still in New York?” she complained. “I thought things on the East Coast were supposed to be close together or something…”
“Jus’ gives you plenty of time to do your homework for the weekend,” he informed her, watching with one eyebrow raised as she pulled her lab notebook from her bag and flipped it open in a vain effort to ignore him.
She instantly discovered that studiously doing her pre-lab calculations provided a nice distraction from the seductive form slumped over the seat across the aisle. In fact, she got so absorbed in them that she didn’t even notice he’d moved until her entire seat shook from where he’d just landed in the seat between her and the window.
She blinked up at him in disbelief and got a shit-eating grin in response. “Tell me you didn’t just jump over the seat back,” she said, the beginnings of a headache forming.
“Fine then, I won’t,” he said with a cheeky smile. “You know,” he noticed her furrowed brow, “all those exercises seem not to ‘ave gotten all the tension out.” He slung one arm over the back of her seat and gave her a seductive grin, his tongue curling up beneath his teeth in an enticing manner. “’d be happy to ‘elp you get all the kinks out, luv…”
She groaned. “God, where do you get this stuff?” she demanded. “Innuendoes.com?”
“I need the right…inspiration first,” he informed her with a little grin, leaning in close. “Bein’ around you…” he whispered against her ear, “how can I think ‘f anythin’ else?”
She let out the breath she’d unconsciously been holding, and it felt as though her body temperature had risen a good ten degrees. “I have homework,” she protested weakly, gesturing to the lab manual in her lap. That finally snapped her out of it.
“I need to get this done,” she insisted. “I can’t have you…distracting me all the time!” Her hands flew in the hair in an annoyed little gesture. “Now, go back to your seat.”
“Can’t make me,” he retorted childishly.
She groaned and put one hand to her aching temple. “I’m serious, Spike,” she informed him. “I really want to get this done.”
“Right then,” he nodded, leaning back in his seat.
“Spike…” she began.
“What?” he countered. “Can’t work with me here?”
“Not when you’re staring at me like that, no!”
“Fine then,” he said in a sulky tone. Elizabeth breathed a little sigh of relief when he stood up, but he only reached over the seat in front of them to grab his laptop from his bag. He gave her a triumphant look as he sat back down. “I ‘ope my doin’ my homework won’ distract you, luv,” he teased lightly.
Elizabeth merely rolled her eyes and turned back to her calculations. Spike shrugged and began half-heartedly typing his way through his English paper. A half-hour passed, maybe two, before Elizabeth finally let out a little exclamation of delight and slammed her lab manual shut.
“Done?” Spike instantly turned away from his paper.
“Pre-labs are a bitch,” she agreed, feeling euphoric enough over having finished the task that she was no longer mad at him.
“I generally avoid ‘em whenever possible,” he agreed, tossing his laptop back over the seat in front of them. There was an exclamation of surprise and pain from the seat where someone had obviously settled down in the meantime, and Spike immediately winced in sympathy. “Sorry, mate!” he apologized quickly.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle slightly, but as she brought her hand up to cover her mirth, her shoulder muscle clenched up again. With a grimace, she began kneading it again, only to find what felt like there was a rock in her shoulder. She was so absorbed in her predicament that she didn’t even notice him move until…
She practically moaned aloud when his hand caught the one she was using to massage her shoulder, shoving it aside and using his own strong fingers to work out the knots.
“That feel better?” he asked softly.
She closed her eyes and winced when his thumb pressed down right over the center of the knot. “Right there!” she gasped out a little breathlessly, feeling her shoulder loosen under his talented touch.
He pressed down on the knot as hard as he could, but the angle made things awkward. “Hey, Summers,” he said after a minute. “’ll make you a deal.”
“Mmm?” His hands had her in such a state of bliss right now that she probably would’ve agreed to anything he said.
“You turn around, an’ ‘ll give your back the whole works,” he offered.
She gave him an appreciative smile and a little blush – yes, somewhere way in the back of her mind she did know that she shouldn’t be letting other guys give her backrubs while her boyfriend was away – before she turned to sit sideways on their seat, her back to him.
He moved up onto his knees, straddling her cute little rear, and worked his fingers deep into her shoulder muscles.
“Mmm…” Her body was slowly turning to jelly at his massage. He tilted her head forward to start at the base of her skull before working his thumbs slowly down the curve of her spine. Her tight, stained muscles gave way to his warm, wonderful fingers, loosening up one by one until gradually she began to slump back against him.
She felt his warm, strong chest at her back, and she felt him moving behind her, settling himself back up against the window now. She was lying back on his body now, using him as pillow and mattress as the many hours of sleep she’d been deprived of last night finally caught up with her. The last thing she was aware of before she drifted off was a warm blanket of leather being wrapped around the two of them, holding them snuggly together before sweet sleep overcame them…
* * *
“Miss me, Summers?”
Elizabeth was greeted by the sight of Spike’s cheeky grin looking up at her from her bed the instant she entered her hotel room.
“Yeah,” she retorted sarcastically, “given that’s it’s been all of five minutes since I last saw you…”
Actually, he’d been rather entertaining – if dangerously tempting – company the entire bus ride as well as during her explorations of the hotel and the team dinner they’d just gotten back from… Maybe he’d gotten the notion in his head that lavishing her with attention would sway her decision or something. In which case, it so wasn’t working…
Yeah, right, her mind retorted sarcastically.
He gave her a lazy smile and rested his head back against his bent elbows, perfectly stretching his body across her entire mattress. “I figured absence makes the ‘eart grow fonder,” he teased. He looked away from her when he said it, though.
She let out a deep sigh. “Is there any particular reason you’re in my bed, Spike?” she demanded. She really didn’t want to have to deal with broken feelings, but if he kept this up… Riley didn’t fight half as hard for you, that annoying voice reminded her. He just expected you to fall right in his lap.
He shrugged. “’S right cozy,” he responded. “Figured we could snuggle up all cozy-like…jus’ like on the bus…”
She felt the heat rise in her at that. She’d woken up to find herself completely wrapped around him, her head tucked gently into the curve of his throat… And the scariest thing was that she’d never woken up feeling more safe and contented than she ever had in all her life…
“I think Kendra might object to being forced to sleep on the floor,” she retorted.
“We’ll make it a threesome then,” he agreed with a bemused chuckle. “Don’ wanna make Kendra feel left out…”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes but kept to his little game. “I think that might make it hard for Elena and Lisa to sleep,” she pointed out.
Spike let out a defeated sigh. “’ll be too knackered to compete tomorrow but…a fivesome it is.”
She couldn’t help but let out an amused giggle as she sat down on the corner of the bed. “Seriously,” she insisted, “get out of my bed…”
“But I thought we could ‘ave a li’l slumber party,” he teased. “Y’know, talk ‘bout boys, paint our nails…” He removed a small bottle from his duster pocket at this and tossed it onto the mattress in front her.
She picked it up and raised an eyebrow. “Nail polish remover?” she read in disbelief.
“Gotcha,” Spike said with a broad grin, sitting up. “This ‘s official team business. An’ as official team cap’n ‘m here to inform you that tournament rules don’ allow nail polish.”
“You’re kidding?” she looked at him, surprised.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’ allow piercin’s, either. ‘Ad to remove the bolt from my eyebrow last year an’ ‘ave it redone later.”
“And maybe ripping it from your face wasn’t the best way to remove it,” she teased, flicking his scarred brow lightly. An amusing notion struck her then. “That means you have to ditch the black then, huh?” she asked innocently.
Spike grumbled at picked at his black nail polish lovingly. “’ll do you, if you do me, luv,” he responded cheekily enough…and with enough of an undercurrent that it reminded her of certain naughty lines she’d heard from certain videos that she shouldn’t have been watching in the first place…
She blushed.
“Gettin’ all hot an’ bothered at jus’ the idea ‘f ruinin’ my look, aren’cha?” Spike brought the teasing back to the world of the non-sexual just like that.
“Been waiting forever to do this,” she agreed with a wicked little smile. “Give me your hands.”
He scootched closer to her and watched her studiously remove all of his beloved black until his nails looked clean once more.
“You know,” she commented, wiping his nails dry with the paper towels he’d ‘acquired’ from the hotel storage closet, “you could’ve just told them you had, like, leprosy or gangrene, and they never would’ve known the difference.” She gave him a falsely sweet smile.
“Bleedin’ bitch,” he grumbled good-naturedly.
She pouted. “Or maybe syphilis…”
He froze at that for a second, eyes wide, before a deep scowl crossed his face. “Don’ ‘ave syphilis,” he said gruffly, attending to her hands with none of the playfulness of earlier.
Elizabeth frowned slightly, not quite sure what it was that she’d said…
“’ll go find Lisa now,” he said, his voice tense. “See ya tomorrow, Summers.” And, with that, he was gone.
Elizabeth just sat there, brows furrowed, staring at the empty spot on the bed he’d vacated. But, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fathom what she possibly could’ve said that would upset him so…
* * *
Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she watched Spike fall to the mat. He had to be the most infuriating fighter to watch that she’d ever seen. He was good, yeah, but he would do the stupidest shit sometimes…usually after nothing had happened for a while and he got bored.
The timer went off, indicating that it was the first break of this round. With an annoyed little sigh, she noticed that Wesley was busy trying to coach Kendra into the top eight. That left her…
“His defenses are weak on the left side,” she informed Spike, handing him his water bottle. “He’s trying to lean that way because you’re a lefty but…”
“Well?” he inquired curiously after she hadn’t said anything in a while.
“You figure it out,” she informed him with a sly smile. “After all, it’s your match.”
He rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his opponent, studying him intently. The guy was much larger than he was and had the whole black-guy-with-head-shaved-don’t-mess-with-me look about him. “Weak on the left side?” he repeated softly. “Thought I would’ve noticed that…”
“You would if you were a righty,” Elizabeth hinted.
He gave her a sly little smile. “Thanks for the tip, luv,” he agreed before returning to the bout.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but smile as well. He’d been cool to her all this morning, still angry about whatever infraction she’d committed. It was nice to see that his anger towards her didn’t last…
She watched him fight with what she knew must appear to be the love-struck eyes of a teenager upon her first crush. Not that any of these people knew the first thing about the two of them, though.
A little “yes!” of satisfaction passed her lips when he finally saw the move she’d just been itching to pull on his opponent – three consecutive right attacks before switching swiftly back to the left side, too quickly for the other man to compensate.
An excited little cheer went through the College of New York students that stood around to watch the fight. The opponent’s team picked up their cries of “You can do it, Gunn!” just as loudly.
Spike had his opponent’s weakness down now, though. And several points later, he finally emerged victorious.
“Well fought, ‘luv’,” Elizabeth teased lightly when he finally came back over to join their school ranks.
“Top eight,” Spike agreed with some surprise. “Kendra make it?” he asked hopefully.
Elizabeth shook her head regretfully. “It was a really close match, though. So she’ll probably place tenth since there weren’t any major upsets.”
“So,” Spike said with a sly little smile, “you gonna coach me into the top four, too?”
“I’ll do you, if you’ll do me,” Elizabeth couldn’t help but flirt back, a wave of relief passing through her as the quips and teasing easily returned.
* * *
Although, in all fairness, neither really needed the other there – at least, not from the fighting standpoint.
Spike’s opponent had been this huge guy named Adam, and it had been obvious from the get-go that the smaller man had no chance in hell. He’d just shrugged it off, though, and cheered Elizabeth on with the best of them.
She hadn’t needed the coaching, either. Because, frankly, it was a brutal slaughter. And her opponent’s irritating Goth friends constantly cheering “Today is Sunday’s day!” just made her all the more pissed off and ready to kiss ass.
She’d giggled slightly when Spike whispered in her ear after the bout that someone should’ve informed them that it was Saturday.
The competition in the top tier was tough, though. And Elizabeth was pitted against the number one fighter in the entire tournament – out of both men and women. She left her little group huddle discussion with Wesley, Spike, and Kendra, a nervous little knot in the pit of her stomach.
And it didn’t help that the other girl was a stuck-up brat, either.
She looked Elizabeth up and down with a raised eyebrow that made it all too clear that she didn’t find her even worthy of her time. Her foot tapped an annoyed staccato as they waited for the judge, and she absentmindedly toyed with a curly, blond lock of her hair.
Elizabeth merely tried to ignore her opponent’s holier-than-thou attitude and stretched slightly before bouncing on her toes a few times, making sure she was still warmed up.
The judge finally emerged from whatever consultation he’d been involved in and announced the match. “Number three – Summers,” he nodded in her direction. She bowed back. “Number one – Benaldi.” Cheers erupted from the crowd as the other girl bowed. They turned to each other and exchanged a quick salute before the beginning of the bout was announced.
Elizabeth attacked right away, having learned from watching her opponent’s previous matches that if she just stood around, she was toast. Although, unfortunately, this technique didn’t seem to work much better. The other blond blocked her kick effortlessly before catching her at the most awkward angle imaginable and knocking her supporting foot right one from under her.
Elizabeth chided herself under her breath as she got back up and saw the red 1 under Benaldi’s name. Quickly centering herself, she took up her defensive stance once more.
“Ready?” the judge demanded. Elizabeth gave him a quick nod. “Fight!”
Seconds later, Elizabeth was wincing on the floor again. OK, so maybe her opponent didn’t look that strong, but…damn! Where did she learn to kick like that?
She stood up and took several deep, calming breaths.
A roughly accented, teasing “You can do it, Bitsy!” from the audience brought a brief smile to her face before she resumed.
She took a quick kick to the side but managed to keep her feet by pure willpower alone. Her opponent, obviously annoyed by this, began a quick series of brutal punches that Elizabeth had to race backwards to avoid. She finally managed to flip to the side just barely in time to avoid a nasty sweeping kick. She landed behind her opponent, and for a few quick seconds, she had the opening she needed…
And an all-out, frustrated screech escaped her lips as she suddenly found herself back on the mats again. How the bloody hell does she move that FAST?! Her inner mind was fuming.
“Three, zero,” the judge announced.
Elizabeth felt herself slipping as a rage overcame her. I can still do this, I just have to… Oh crap.
“Four, zero.”
“What’s her name?” someone from the opposing team shouted out.
“Glory!” the cry erupted through the crowd.
Elizabeth seethed and rose to her feet…and, fortunately for her, the break bell rang. She stalked back over to Wesley. “I know I can beat this girl!” she hissed angrily, taking a deep swig of her water. “It’s just… Ugh!”
“Easy, luv,” Spike said softly. “No good gettin’ worked up…”
“I’ll get worked up if I want to!” she hissed angrily before sighing. “You’re right,” she agreed wearily before turning back to Wesley. “What am I doing wrong?” she asked.
“You need to complete your more complex moves,” he informed her. “You’re only getting halfway through—”
“Before she knocks me on my ass!” Elizabeth interrupted, frustrated beyond all belief.
“Take a deep breath and calm down,” Wesley instructed her, and she did so. “Now,” he informed her, “you’re going to go back in there, and the only thing you’re going to think about is completing that right-left-highkick-roundhouse combination we’ve been working on. All right?”
She nodded and took another quick sip. “Right,” she asked, engraining her memories of the move into her active mind.
“You’re just doing this one point at a time,” Wesley instructed her. “Pay no attention to the score at all. It’s non-existent.”
“One more hit, and I lose!” Elizabeth insisted.
“It doesn’t exist,” Wesley repeated.
“Doesn’t exist,” she closed her eyes. “Right. Doesn’t exist. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse. Score doesn’t exist. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse…”
The buzzer indicated for her to return to the mat.
“Good luck, luv,” Spike called after her.
She spared him a shy little smile before returning to face Glory. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse. Right-left-highkick-roundhouse. The first few blows were exchanged in quick succession as both reassessed each other, and then when Elizabeth had her footing nice and steady…
Right-left-high…crap!
She fell to the ground once more, and the final gong indicated that the match had been won.
“What’s my name?” Glory said, a smug smile plastered across her face.
“Glory!” her cheering squad shouted out.
Elizabeth barely managed to get up to her feet and complete the finishing salutes before she practically fled to the women’s locker room. “Argh!” she screamed out in fury, slamming her fist into the first convenient locker. It stung, but she really didn’t care. The pain was better than the pure humiliation she’d just suffered in front of all those people…
She felt the first tear come to her eye and wiped it away roughly. It was stupid, she knew. Just a dumb tournament. It didn’t matter all that much. So why didn’t any of that make her feel better?
And then the sobs overtook her, and she didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore. In fact, it was a long time before she noticed the strong arms that had held her the entire time she cried.
“Hush, luv,” Spike whispered softly in her ear. “’S all right. Jus’ cry it out…”
“Spike?” she managed to get out between her sniffles.
“Yeah?” he looked down at her.
“This is the women’s locker room,” she pointed out, somewhat ridiculously.
He cracked a little smile at that. “Any ‘f you bints object, you can jus’ go invade the men’s locker room in exchange,” he retorted.
Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle at that slightly before burying her head back in his shoulder. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” she whispered softly.
“Been informed ‘f that a few hundred times,” he agreed, stroking her back slowly, petting her hair.
“I’ve never lost that badly before,” Elizabeth finally admitted softly.
Spike shrugged. “’er old man’s a professional coach,” he informed her. “Did the Korean Olympic Team a couple ‘f times. She’s been fightin’ since she was two or somethin’.”
“And that makes it better?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Third place is damn good for a freshman,” he informed her. “Plus,” he added, an amused little timber in his voice, “your bleach job’s at least twice ‘s good ‘s hers.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle again. “Who does her hair anyway?” she said with a little smile. “It looked like a hair curler went psycho on her…”
“Not to mention she’s a stuck-up bitch,” Spike added with a grin.
“And I’m not?” she teased lightly.
“Maybe,” he conceded with his characteristic smirk, “but you’re a bloody beautiful stuck-up bitch.” She blushed slightly at that, and he ducked his head, somewhat embarrassed as well. “Or, ‘least, so says lowly number seven.”
“ ‘Lowly’,” she batted him in the shoulder. “You’re really good.”
“’aven’t given me a chance to show you that yet, though, ‘ave ya, Summers?” he retorted with his full-fledged cocky smirk complete with eyebrow waggle.
She laughed at that. “Completely hopeless…” she repeated her sentiments from earlier.
“Always,” he agreed with a small smile, one hand reaching over to cup her chin, turn her face up to look at his, and…
She let out a heady little gasp and let her eyelids flutter shut as his lips gently brushed her forehead.
“Let’s get back out there,” he said abruptly then, quickly rising to his feet. “Maybe skanky-ho’ll get the shit kicked outta her in the final round…”
Elizabeth laughed and took the hand he offered her. Damn, how did he always know how to make everything better again…?