Chapter 16

Buffy lay quietly on her bed, eyes closed, lost somewhere between hazy consciousness and deep slumber. She turned on her back and draped her arms over the warm blankets resting them on her chest, when a soft noise broke through the sleepy mist that surrounded her mind. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids seemed to hold the weight of the world, so she kept them closed, but when she felt her mattress move, she quickly opened them. Her sight was foggy and it took a while for her to focus on the approaching figure that climbed onto her bed and cat-like crept its way up her body. She didn’t need to see him to know who he was; the clear scent of alcohol and cigarettes surrounding her was evidence enough. She held her breath as he crawled all the way up and hovered over her frozen form, his weight resting on his forearms that lay on either side of her.

“Spike, what are you doing here?” She tried to sound angry and outraged, but to no avail, as the word came out like a fragile whisper.

“Shh….” She heard him say before he buried his head in the nape of her neck, lightly kissing his way up to her earlobe.

She gasped as she felt him rest his weight on her, one of his legs between hers as his left hand wormed its way under the covers, pulling them off of her before tugging at her nightgown.

“Sp…” She tried to speak but the words got caught in her throat as his fingers dug into the outside of her thighs hitching up the nightdress.

She heard him moan, as he thrust his pelvis against hers and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips. Her hands pulled and tugged at his red shirt, trying to drag it over his head, but he wouldn’t let go of her. His arms wrapped around her, one resting on her thigh, the other on her neck as he pulled her towards him for a bruising kiss. She felt him rub against her and let out a muffled cry into his mouth, running her nails over his clothed back.

He pulled away abruptly to stared down at her, their breaths coming in short urgent pants.

“You’re beautiful, Summers.” He whispered, before diving for her neck once more.

She arched up letting out a moan as she felt the hand on her thigh move between her legs to tug at her panties.

“God… Buffy.” She heard him gasp as his fingers pushed the elastic band to the side.

“Buffy… Buffy, wake up!”

Her eyes snapped open to meet the figure of her mother standing by her bed, lightly shaking her out of her dream.

“Mom?!” Buffy asked confused as a frown settled over her eyebrows.

“You’re going to be late for school, missy.” Mrs. Summers warned her daughter. “Now, get out of bed. I’ll come up before I leave to check if you’re up.” She said as she left the room.

Buffy propped herself on her elbows, her hazy stare scanning the empty room. Her eyes widened as the memories of her dream assaulted her mind.

“Oh… my God.” She whispered to herself but, as a couple more images flashed before her eyes, she repeated with a high-pitched tone: “OH, MY GOD!”

~+~

She quickly scurried down the hall, through the multitude of teenagers with her head bowed and her books tightly clenched against her chest, trying hard to avoid the places where she thought he might be.

“Hey, Buffy!” She heard Willow’s familiar voice and turned to see the redhead standing by her locker next to Oz, waving her hand.

The petite blond smiled and was about to go meet with her when she saw a flash of white hair and black leather turn the corner and head towards Willow. Buffy’s eyes widened and she quickly shouted:

“I can’t now. I’m late for class.” And with that she whirled around and continued down the hall.

Willow frowned at her best friend’s statement.

“Late for class? The bell hasn’t rung yet. And since when is Buffy paranoid about being on time… And for English lit to top it?”

Oz simply shrugged.

“Hey.”

Willow jumped up as she heard the deep male voice coming from behind her.

“Hey, Spike.” She quickly replied while Oz gave him a light nod.

“You guys seen Buffy?” He asked.

“We just saw her on her way to class.” Willow explained.

“Already?” Spike furrowed his brows.

The two redheads gave Spike a shrug.

“Well, I’ll see you guys later then.” The bleached teen said as he quickly sprinted down the hall on his way to class.

~+~

Buffy scurried down the corridor, looking through her books to find her class schedule. She was so engrossed in her current task, she didn’t even notice the curious glances thrown her way, or the incessant whispering that seemed to affect every student she passed by. She let out a satisfied sigh as she found what she was looking for.

“Wednesday… Wednesday…” She muttered as her finger ran over the table printed on the small piece of paper. Why couldn’t she remember what class she had? “Stupid dream!” She mumbled, returning to her search. “English lit.” She said before looking up to see where she was. “That way.”

As she reached the classroom, she looked both ways before turning the knob and entering. She closed the door behind her and let out a deep sight of relief, closing her eyes.

“Safe. Good old English lit, ah.”

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open.

“English lit? That’s with-“

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as someone opened the door she was leaning against and sent her sprawling to the floor. She groaned as she hit the hard surface, her hair coming to cover her face but she quickly scrambled to her feet. Exhaling sharply, she sent her blonde strands flying away from her face. She had to suppress a high-pitched squeak when she saw who was standing in front of her, holding the door open.

“Spike.” She groaned, rolling her eyes as she turned on her heels and made her way to her desk, by the window.

“Hey, luv! Nice to see you too.” He mumbled sarcastically, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” She asked with an annoyed tone, trying hard to repress the memories of her dream, which seemed intent on flashing before her eyes.

“Question would be: why are you here, luv? Class hasn’t started yet.” Spike noted coming to lean on the desk next to hers.

Buffy ran her fingers over her tired eyed, pushing back the nasty images and groaning.

“Are you ok? Is it because of yesterday? Cause I thought-“

“No, I’m fine.” She grumbled.

“Oh, yeah, you’re just peachy, luv.”

“Can you please quit calling me that?” She practically begged.

Spike melted down to his seat and stared at her.

“Is it cause of you’re mom? Cause-“

“Spike, stop trying to analyse me. I told you – I’m fine. I’m just tired. Had a really, *really* bad dream.” She moaned as she rested her head between her hands, her elbows on the desk.

“Sure that’s just it?” He asked and couldn’t help letting a hint of worry filter through to his tone.

“Spike, why are you asking me all these questions?” She groaned finally looking up at him.

He was about to answer, when the classroom door was opened.

“How’d you kids get in here?” Mrs. Kennedy’s voice hovered into the room and the two teens quickly turned to face her.

“Hey, Mrs. Kennedy.” Buffy greeted awkwardly.

“Ms. Summers.” The 30-year-old woman nodded, resting her things on her desk. “Never thought of you as someone to come early to class. I thought you hated English Literature.”

“I- I… don’t… I…” Buffy stumbled over the words.

“No need to stutter, Buffy, I’m glad to see you’ve taken an interest in my class.” Mrs. Kennedy smiled and winked at the petite blonde from under her glasses.

Buffy let out a sigh of relief while Spike stood up and strolled over to speak to the teacher. Buffy frowned as she watched the two quickly exchange a few words, with Mrs. Kennedy nodding before the bleached teen turned on his heels and took his place next to Buffy.

“Why are you smiling? I don’t like it when you do that. It’s a sign of bad things to come.” Buffy grumbled, raising her eyebrow.

The school bell rang and Mrs. Kennedy opened the classroom door to let in a flood of pimpled teens. A wave of gossip and whispering soon filled the room as everyone eyed the blonde couple now seated together.

“Aren’t you going to take your seat?” Buffy questioned.

Before Spike could answer, Mrs. Kennedy called out:

“Ms. Kendal.” She had no answer as the blonde teen enthusiastically chatted with a fellow student while eyeing the infamous couple. “Harmony Kendal!” Mrs. Kennedy called once more and this time the girl acknowledged her. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like you to change seats with Spike.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, staring at Spike while he wiggled his eyebrows at her and smirked.

“What?! Why?” The teen whined.

“Because from now on, Spike will tutor Buffy in her English Literature studies. And it would do you good not to be so close to your cheerleading colleagues. You seem to have a great deal of difficulty concentrating when you’re near them.” Mrs. Kennedy answered as she turned to write something on the board.

“But-“

“Not another word, Harmony.” Mrs. Kennedy warned, not bothering to turn and face the teen.

Reluctantly, the blonde teen picked up her things and mumbled as she dragged her feet across the room to reach her new desk:

“Tutoring, my ass…”

“I heard that, Ms. Kendal.” Mrs. Kennedy warned before starting the class.

An hour later, the school bell rang once more and a combined sigh of relief coming from the students was heard, as instantly the teens began packing their books and preparing to leave.

Spike leaned on his new desk watching as Buffy awkwardly stuffed her things into her backpack.

“Are you nervous, pet?” He finally asked, cocking up a curious eyebrow.

She had spent the entire class avoiding him, frantically scribbling on her notebook. If he didn’t know her better he would have thought she was actually trying to learn something. Every time he’d glance at her or call her, she’d turn bright red and would just stare down at her books.

“I’m fine.” She breathed, putting her bag over her shoulder.

“Well, you look kinda jittery to me.” He insisted as they walked out the door together.

“I’m just busy. I-I gotta go.”

And with that she was sprinting down the hall, leaving behind a dumbstruck teen.

~+~

Two days passed and Buffy continued intent on avoiding him, being quite successful at it. She had only seen him once, on Thursday, and she had managed to hide before he saw her.

She let out a content sigh as she entered the house and dragged her feet up the stairs. She plopped down on her bed, lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, when the phone rang. She grunted as she reluctantly crawled her way up her bed to her nightstand and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Buffy.” Willow’s peppy mood was heard from the other side of the line.

“Hey, Wills.” The blonde teen mumbled, rolling onto her back and closing her eyes.

“So, what time tonight?”

“Tonight?” Buffy frowned as he mind drew a blank. “What about tonight?”

“The Bronze… remember?”

“Oh… right.” Buffy uttered with little enthusiasm.

“Don’t tell me you’re not coming.” Willow begged as she knew her best friend all too well.

“Well… I’m kinda tired and my mom-“

“Oh, come on, Buffy! You said you’d come, you promised.” Willow whined.

“Why do you want me to come?” Buffy wondered.

“Well, I-I… you’re my best friend and-and… it wouldn’t be any fun if you didn’t come.” The redhead stammered.

“Right… Now, let’s try this once more, and without the pathetic attempt to lie.” Buffy mumbled, pressing her fingers against her shut eyelids.

“I-I’m not lying.”

“Come on Wills. You couldn’t lie if your life depended on it. Now out with it!” Buffy ordered with a light tone.

“Oh, alright!” Suddenly, Willow’s tone became giddy with childlike excitement. “I’m not supposed to tell you this but…” There was a moment of pause before the hysterical redhead shouted into the receiver: “Oz’s band it playing tonight!”

Buffy jumped up, letting go of the phone to rest her hand on her ear. A string of curses passed through her clenched teeth before she picked up the receiver.

“Buffy, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m bleeding from my ear, but I’m here.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! It’s just that… OZ IS PLAYING TONIGHT!” Willow yelled once more causing Buffy to jump up again.

“Ok, Willow, which part of ‘I’m bleeding from my ear’ didn’t you get? Was it the ‘ear’ or ‘the bleeding from’?”

“I’m sorry.” Willow said in a small voice. “It’s just that I’m so excited.”

“The constant ringing in my ear is definitely proof of it.”

“I’m sorry.” The redhead begged.

“It’s ok, Wills. No biggy.” Buffy said as she stuck her finger into her ear and cringed.

“So you’re coming right?”

There was no answer.

“Oh, come on! You gotta come. I’m bringing a video camera and all!!!” Willow’s excitement was evident in her high-pitched tone.

“I…”

“Pleeeeease.”

“I can’t promise anything. But I’ll try, ok?”

“Ok. I gotta go now. Gotta pick my least non-sexy outfit.” Willow giggled.

“Bye Wills.”

“Bye.”

Buffy remained lying on the bed, on her back, letting the busy signal from the receiver echo in her ears for a few seconds before putting it back in place. She closed her eyes and was slowly drifting to sleep when she heard the door to her room swing open.

“Honey?” Her mother’s voice filled the room.

“Mom? What are you doing home?” Buffy asked as she slowly propped herself up on her elbows. She frowned when she saw how her mother dressed up and… “You’re wearing make up!”

“Yes.” Mrs. Summer nodded, tightening her grip on the peach-coloured shawl that was draped over her slender shoulders.

“You never wear make up. Not even on your last few dates.” Buffy noted suspiciously as she sat up straight.

“That’s true.” Another annoyingly peaceful nod was thrown Buffy’s way.

“Why are you wearing make up?”

“I’m going on a date.”

“Again?! You’ve gone out on dates every night this week.” Buffy noted a bit outraged by her mom’s behaviour.

“Buffy, I’m a grown woman and I have the right to go out as much as I please.”

Buffy sighed in frustration as she stood up.

“I know mom, but… “ She paused, choosing her words. “Is it serious?”

“What is, honey?”

“The person you’re going out with… Is it serious? I mean if it’s make up worthy, it’s probably serious.” Buffy stated.

Mrs. Summers pressed her lips together. She really didn’t want to talk about this right now.

“Honey… I don’t know.”

“Am I going to have to meet him?” Buffy questioned with a hint of desperation.

A soft smile crept over the older woman’s lips as she shook her head.

“Not just, yet.”

“Good.” Buffy sighed in relief walking back to her bed while her mother stayed at the doorway.

“Are still going out tonight?” Mrs. Summers asked.

“I don’t know. I might.” Buffy mumbled as she plopped down on the bed.

“Well, have fun.” Her mother started to leave, when she stopped and her face gained a light shade of red. “I-I might be late tonight.”

Buffy tilted her head and cocked a suspicious eyebrow before she asked:

“How late?”

“Late.” Mrs. Summers clearly tried to avoid the subject.

“How late, mom?” Buffy insisted.

“I might not come home tonight.” Mrs. Summer’s blurted out, finally finding the courage to word it out. But before her daughter could say anything, she closed the door, sprinted down the stairs and out the front entrance, leaving Buffy sitting on her bed, trying to pick up her jaw.

~+~

She walked around in circles in her room, clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides, her nails digging into her sweaty palms.

“My mom is having sex with a stranger?” She mumbled the words in disbelief for the 100th time that evening. “My mom. Is having sex. With a stranger.” Her stomach turned, doing a couple of painful flip-flops. “Oh, God… I think I’m gonna be sick.” She managed to word out as she ran her way down the hall and into the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet to throw up.

After the nauseating deed was done, she let her body fall limply to the white tiled floor and leaned on the cold wall, closing her eyes tightly shut. She grumbled under her breath as she heard the doorbell and contemplated just letting it ring. She really didn’t feel like getting up right now. Eventually, the clear resonant sound started to dig into her brain causing a major migraine and she forced her tired body into the standing position, sluggishly making her way down the stairs while the ringing became incessant.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. For Christ sake will you just hang on a sec?” She shouted just as she swung the door open. She rolled her eyes as she was greeted by the familiar peroxide blond.

“You’re not dressed yet.” He noted as he saw the thick, white robe she was wearing and the cute bunny shaped slippers.

“No? Really? You have such cunning observational skills. You amaze me!” She uttered with fake enthusiasm as she dragged her feet to the living room.

Spike frowned as he walked in, closing the door behind him and followed the petite blonde.

“I see you’re in your usual peppy mood tonight.” He said watching her plopped down on the couch and idly flip through the channels.

“Don’t push me Spike, I’m not in a good mood.” She grumbled, her eyes never leaving the flickering images coming from the TV.

“Oh… that’s new.” He retorted.

Rolling her eyes once more, she turned to look at the black-clad teen and realised he had his hand conveniently concealed behind his back.

“What are you hiding?” She asked, trying to sound uninterested.

“Nothing.” He answered with a grin.

“What is it?” She insisted sitting up straight.

“Nothing.”

Without a word, she stood up and walked over to him. He immediately stepped back.

“Come on. What’re you hiding?” She repeated.

His grin grew wider as she tried to circle around him, but he kept turning, never giving her the chance to see what he was concealing. They played the cat and mouse game for a while, and eventually, Buffy was trying to keep from giggling as she attempted to reach his back, pushing and pulling at him. Suddenly, she violently tugged his forearm, causing him to lose his balance and, instinctively, he brought both arms to his front to find support on the couch, revealing a single red rose in his left hand. Buffy frowned:

“A rose? For me?” She asked a bit confused.

“No. It’s for your mom.” He quickly answered, seeing the sparkle in her eye die out.

“Oh…” She mumbled embarrassed.

He felt a pang in his heart and quickly told the truth:

“I’m kidding, luv. It’s for you.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked up at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Why?”

“It’s our one week anniversary. I was going to bring you a bouquet but I thought you’re mom might get suspicious.” He explained.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. Was he blushing?

“One week anniversary?”

“Yeah. We agreed to our fake dating scheme a week ago, remember? ‘We’ll hold hands?’”

“Oh… right.” It was her turn to blush as she picked the rose from his hands.

“I-I know, it’s stupid. I-I shouldn’t have-“ Spike started awkwardly.

“No-no. I-I like it.” Buffy stuttered as she went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and put the rose in it.

“If you don’t like it, you can just throw it away. I don’t care. It was just…” Spike nervously began to ramble.

“No, I like it.” Buffy repeated with less hesitation.

A moment of unbearably awkward silence filtered between them as they stood together in the kitchen. Buffy was the one to break it.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No, thanks. I already ate. And we’re going to be late anyway, if you’re still going to get dressed and all.”

“I don’t think I’m going.” She replied.

“What do you mean? You’re not going to short stick’s gig?” Spike question frowning.

“Short stick?” Buffy cocked up an eyebrow.

“Oz. Red’s boyfriend.”

“Short stick… right. Look who’s talking.” Buffy grinned as she eyed the bleached teen up and down.

“Hey!” He protested.

Buffy smiled triumphantly, but it soon crumbled as realisation came.

“Wait a second. Willow told you about it? I thought it was supposed to be a secret.” Buffy said with a pout.

“Wasn’t her. Was Oz. Told me while we were playing football.”

“You and Oz play soccer together?”

“And the whelp.”

“And Xander?”

Spike nodded.

“And Oz told you about the concert.” Another nod. “Since when are you and Oz buddies?”

“What can I say? People are just naturally drawn to me.” He shrugged. “So are you getting dressed or not?”

Buffy sighed forcibly before, nodding and sprinting up the stairs.

“Give me 5 minutes.” She shouted back.

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 at 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?

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