SUMMARY: After Buffy suffered a nasty knee injury on the job, her friends think it would be nice to pay for her to have a little vacation. The problem is, they're all too busy to go with her, except Spike. But what would a vampire do in sunny Maui for two weeks? Heat things up, what else.

RATING: NC-17

DISCLAIMER: BTVS is property of Joss Whedon. I own nothing.

SPOILERS: Season 6. Buffy and Spike are friends, but they didn't sleep together

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Disclaimer: The lyrics used in this chapter are from Love Song, by The Cure, and Bitch by Meredith Brooks

CHAPTER 6
Hawaiian Idol

Young hearts, to yourself be true
Don’t be no fool, when love really don’t love you

Spike scanned the crowd anxiously, his eyes not lingering on the happy vacationers. Neither did he bother looking at the stage where the girl responsible for the horrific rendition of ‘Young hearts run free’ was enthusiastically screaming at the top of her lungs.

Of course Buffy had been right. She was right, and he was a blasted, insensitive, idiotic, git. Story of their life, really. And God knows there is nothing worst than a woman who is right, except maybe admitting that she is.

Spike sighed in defeat. His eyes settled on the bar for a moment, the lure of all that liquid courage was strong, but he had to fight the urge to just give up his search and take comfort in his friend Jack. William the Bloody was not a coward. He had fought the scariest beasts, confronted two Slayers in battle and lived to tell the tale. So why in the bloody hell was he squirming at the idea of facing Buffy and admitting he was wrong?

*You know why you git. Because the bint will never let you hear the end of it. That’s why.*

But despite his reluctance to face the tiny girl, he knew he had to hurry up and find her soon if he valued his unlife at all. With every passing minute his chances of being forgiven quickly and completely were severely decreasing. He knew Buffy: the longer she’d wait, the angrier she’d get. She’d jump to conclusions and assume he didn’t care enough to come after her right away. He really didn’t fancy them fighting for the remainder of the two weeks because then he could truly say that he’d wrecked her holiday.

The blonde vampire cringed at the painful noises coming from the stage. Sounded like a Shiraag demon during mating season. Vampiric hearing could come in handy sometimes, but at other times--like now--it could be a right nuisance. But he’d have to tough it out because Buffy had to be hiding in there somewhere. He’d just spent the past hour looking for the girl in every corner of the paradisiacal resort without success. Knowing it was karaoke night in the main bar, he’d kept it as last resort, all the while hoping he could spare himself the torture if he found her before. No such luck, of course.

Now, he was standing in a room full of drunken tourists, listening to Candi Staton’s hit being massacred by a fifteen-year-old pimpled face girl, and just about to give up and go back to the room. But he hadn’t suffered in vain. A waitress who had been standing in front of a table suddenly moved away, and a flash of golden hair caught Spike’s eye. There she was, sulking by herself in a corner. And if the way she was tearing apart the little paper umbrella that was once decorating her exotic drink was any indication, she was still in a dangerous mood. The addition of alcohol to the mix could only mean trouble for the bleached blonde vampire.

When he walked up to her, his step lacked its usual arrogant swagger. He stopped in front of her table, hands buried deep in his pockets, and waited for Buffy to look at him. But the stubborn Slayer pointedly ignored him, keeping her eyes trained on the stage. A middle aged man sporting a pregnant beer belly was now shaking his behind singing ‘Baby got back’ and getting a good laugh from the gits at his table. Buffy seemed fascinated.

Spike decided to try the casual approach. “Enjoying yourself, luv?”

“Absolutely.” She answered, her tone icy. “Until you showed up, of course. Because, you know… According to your twisted sense of logic, I’m only allowed to enjoy myself ALONE and away from you. Oh, right. I think it’s fine if it’s out of pity too. Did I get the rules right? You know me, I’m not used to following rules so it can get confusing sometimes.”

“All right then.” He sighed and pulled a chair to sit in front of her. “That answers the question whether you’re still mad at me or not.”

She snorted loudly. “Mad? Who’s mad? I’m not mad. Why would I be MAD? It’s a free world, you’re allowed to think whatever the hell you want and to share it with me. If you really think I’m Mother Teresa and would spend all my time with you out of the goodness of my generous Christian heart and not because I actually WANT to, then it’s your problem.”

Spike frowned in confusion. “’m trying to suss out what’s going on in that noggin of yours, pet, but I’ve got nothing. Basically, you’re telling me that thinking you’re a nice person is… a bad thing?”

Not getting an answer, he shook his head and continued. “You know what, never mind. Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t mean to muck everything up the way I did. I should have kept my bloody mouth shut. You know me, I have a knack for saying the wrong bloody thing at the wrong bloody time. Can’t help it, it’s something in my blood. I won’t speak again for the rest of the trip. I’ll just smile and nod my head once in a while.”

A small smile tugged at Buffy’s lips. “You realize that if God, in his infinite wisdom, had created you mute, you’d be almost perfect? Too bad you learned how to speak.”

Spike opened his mouth with every intention to make some smart ass comeback, but decided to follow his own advice instead and shut up. He smiled, and nodded.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him, doing her best to hide her amusement.

“So, luv, is there anything I can do to be deserving of your forgiveness?”

She finally let the smile wash away the grim look that had been clouding her features since he’d arrived. With a devilish gleam in her eyes, she slowly, dramatically, slid a black binder across the table. Binder that he hadn’t noticed she’d been holding the entire time they were talking.

Spike raised a curious brow. “What’s this, then?”

She only said one word. “Sing.”

“Excuse me?”

Buffy’s smile broadened. “You. Karaoke. Sing.”

“No bleeding way! I am not going on this stage to make a bleedin’ fool of myself like those pansies over there.” To illustrate his point, he pointed at the three guys on stage currently singing an N’Sync song.

Looking at him through her long lashes, she gingerly took the straw between her pink glossy lips and took a sip of her drink before speaking again. “You asked what you could do to earn my forgiveness: I told you. Now, if you don’t care all that much…”

She pulled the binder containing the song selection back toward herself.

Spike snatched the book back from her, a scowl on his handsome face. “Fine. I’ll do it. But I really don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

“Everything.” She replied brightly. “ It’s embarrassing, it’s silly, and it’s completely beneath the Big Bad. So if you do it, it’ll show me just how much you really want me to forgive you. And also that you love my company so much that you’re willing to humiliate yourself in front of everybody just so you’ll be tolerated in my gracious presence again. Yep, Buffy Summers, Fair ruler of the Hellmouth, declares that’s what shall be done.”

“That’s what I shall do then.” Spike opened the book with a heavy sigh, and started browsing through the titles. “Besides, who says I’m going to humiliate myself? Did you ever hear me sing?”

Buffy opened her mouth to answer, but he hurriedly cut her off. “I meant sober and not yelling along to Sid Vicious.”

“Uh… I guess not. But believe me, once you’re done going through the selection, you’ll realize that ‘humiliating’ might not be that much of an overstatement. All they have in there is the worst of the 80’s and 90’s, along with the Back Street Boys and Spice Girls’ greatest hits.”

“Those Spice Girls’ birds were a bit of all right. The tiny scraps of clothing they called outfits sorta made you forget about the horrible singing.”

“You’re still in trouble, buster. So a little less with the pervy comments and more with the groveling please.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Going through a few more pages only confirmed that she’d been right about the music choice.

“Bloody buggering hell.”

Buffy chuckled happily, and went back to casually sipping on her drink, her eyes not leaving his expressive face. Pretty damn entertaining. And at the same time, she was touched that he’d be willing to do this just to make her happy. Of course, that feeling lasted only until he uttered his next sentence.

He searched for a few more minutes before looking up at her. “All right, I’m bloody well doing this… but you have to do it too.”

She suddenly got a little pale. “What? Noooo sir. I haven’t done anything to you worth this kind of punishment. At least, not lately.”

He smirked. “Really? I’m sure if I think hard enough, I could remember something. Oh right. Wasn’t it just last night that you were making fun of me for trying to open the wrong sodden’ hotel room door? I can still hear you cackling like a hyena an hour later, all tucked in for the night in your warm little bed. Bleedin’ hilarious, it was. And what about…”

“Fine!” She interrupted sulkily. “I’ll sing, you big bully.”

“Look at the bright side, pet.”

“There’s a bright side?”

“Yeah. I don’t think we can be much worst than those wankers even if we try.”

She laughed, her good mood finally returning. “You’re lucky, you know?”

“Why’s that?”

“I was going to sing ‘You’re so vain’ and dedicate it to you, but someone else sang it just before you arrived.”

“Bleedin’ shame, that’s what it is.” He shook his head in mocked disappointment. “So, how does this work anyway?”

Buffy handed him a small paper and a pen. “Here. You take this, you write your name on it, the title of the song you want to sing and the number of the song, then I’ll go give it to the MC”

They both filled out their papers and Buffy stood up. “Oh, and did I mention that this is a contest? The winner gets a Jeep excursion on the volcano, followed by a dinner at the best restaurant in Maui with champagne and everything. So if you want to make me happy, you’ll win for me… No pressure or anything.” She gave him her sweetest smile and briskly walked away.

Spike lowered his head in defeat. “Bloody women.”

He ordered a beer and waited for Buffy to come back. She was grinning madly.

“What got you so happy, luv?”

“You’re next.” She said simply before sitting down.

Spike’s eyes widened comically. “What? But what about all those wankers who gave their papers before us? Aren’t they supposed to go first?”

“Pretty amazing what flashing a bit of cleavage will get you, isn’t it?” She batted her lashes innocently at him.

“You’re truly evil, you know that?”

“I learned from the master.”

The MC came on, his voice booming in the crowded bar.

“Next, we have Spike… huh… The Bloody.” The MC looked up at the crowd. “Interesting stage name, man.”

Spike narrowed his eyes at Buffy who just grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

“Spike will be singing ‘Love song’ by The Cure. The mic is yours buddy.”

Everybody cheered when Spike stood up, Buffy being the loudest. He shed his leather jacket, leaving it on the back of his chair, and made his way to the stage as nonchalantly as if he’d been going to the 7/Eleven to buy cigarettes.

He reached the elevated stage and hopped on it with feline grace. Already you could tell the female part of the audience was fascinated with the blonde man. Spike looked around and quickly spotted the guitar the MC used to entertain the guests between two ‘performers’. He walked up to the microphone.

“Sorry, slight change of plans.” Then, turning to the Karaoke guy. “Do you mind if I borrow that guitar of yours, mate? I’m in the mood for something accoustic if it’s all right.”

The guy shrugged and made a gesture towards the guitar to signal that he didn’t have a problem with that. “You still need the lyrics on the screen, buddy?”

“It’s fine, I know the song.”

Back at the table, Buffy’s eyebrows raised in incredulity at the idea that Spike could play the guitar. The vampire would always find new and interesting ways to surprise her and keep her on her toes. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he’d come up with something new to throw her off balance. It was kind of annoying, but mostly, it kept her interested.

She watched as he carried a bar stool and the guitar to the middle of the stage and, after adjusting the height of the microphone stand, made himself comfortable. He didn’t make any dedication, it would have been superfluous and kind of awkward considering they were officially “friends”, but she knew. Love song. She’d seen the title on the paper while bringing it to the MC and her heart had clenched painfully in her chest. For a moment, she had wanted to go back to the table and tell him that he didn’t have to hide behind stupid songs to tell her how he felt anymore. But she’d been a coward and kept walking to the front of the bar.

The first rift of guitar rose and the crowd fell eerily silent. Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am home again
Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am whole again

His voice was smooth and sweet like warm caramel and had the crowd, and Buffy more than anybody else, mesmerized in no time.

Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am young again
Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am fun again

He hadn’t been bragging. The previously semi comatose patrons were suddenly paying rapt attention. He was good. Better than good… and he had all the women in the place swooning after singing just a few bars. Buffy felt a pang of jealousy, hearing the comments from the tables nearby, but he wasn‘t singing for them. He had eyes only for her.

However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you

Spike had more presence on stage than anybody she’d ever seen. He was commanding attention. It didn’t matter if the song was a slow one and he was only sitting there, strumming his guitar: it was all about his eyes and his voice. His eyes bore into hers with an intensity that made her want to look away, but she couldn’t. He was telling her with the song all these things he couldn’t say to her, and she wanted nothing more than to throw herself at him. A woman at a table next to hers was looking her way, and Buffy clearly heard her saying “lucky bitch”.

The blonde Slayer couldn’t help the little snort that escaped her lips. If only she knew how incredibly stupid the “lucky bitch” was, keeping a man like Spike at arm’s length for so long, no doubt that woman would have a good laugh.

Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am free again
Whenever I’m alone with you
You make me feel like I am clean again

The last notes died on the guitar and Spike rose to thunderous applause. He ducked his head in a rare show of shyness, and mumbled a thank you into the microphone before hurriedly getting off the stage.

He reached their table and sank down in a chair. “Tell Harris I sang, and there will be hell to pay.”

Buffy didn‘t answer. She just looked at him, smiling warmly, until he started looking uncomfortable. She watched as he ran restless fingers through his hair and looked around while mumbling that he needed a drink.

“Don’t worry,” she finally answered. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. But I don’t see why you’re so embarrassed; you were amazing up there.”

He looked even more self-conscious if possible. “Yeah well…” He let out a forced chuckle. “What can I say, I‘m a man of multiple talents.”

Buffy decided she’d tortured him enough. She saw a waitress passing by and stopped her to order more drinks. While talking to the waitress, she noticed the Italian woman sitting nearby and seemingly observing them. After the server left, Buffy turned discretely to try to see of the dark haired stranger was still looking their way or if she was just being paranoid, but the other woman quickly looked away. Buffy frowned. She tried to push the strange feeling away. After all, she was on vacation and besides, there couldn’t be any evil in a paradisiacal place like this. But the worry must have shown on her face because Spike asked her what was going on.

“Nothing. It’s just this weird woman I kept bumping into this morning, and now I thought she was staring at me. But I’m probably just being paranoid. She’s probably just looking at you. After that performance, I’m sure she wishes she could have a piece of the Big Bad.” Buffy tried to joke.

“The Italian woman who looks like a transvestite, has been sitting there since I arrived and has yet to touch her Martini?”

“Yeah. You noticed her too?”

“Hard to miss.”

Buffy forced herself to lighten up. “You know what? It’s nothing. I’ve been away from Slayer duty for a couple of days and I bet I’m just subconsciously trying to find trouble. I’m itching for some violence. Things to hurt, evil to slay, ya know. The usual.”

“They do have a punching bag in the gym, pet. Maybe you could use that? And if it doesn’t work, we could go some place relatively deserted and spar together. I wouldn’t mind a work out myself.”

“Mm, yeah. That could work.” She answered, a far away look in her eyes as her mind drifted to dirty places. Images of a shirtless Spike fighting with her on a deserted beach, silvery moonlight highlighting the corded muscles of his torso, his body pressed against hers, rolling around in the still warm sand…

“Give a big round of applauds to Buffy Summers, who will be singing I touch myself.”

Buffy instantly snapped back to reality. “What?”

“’m afraid it’s your turn, pet.”

“I changed my mind.” She hissed under her breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the table hard enough to break the wood.

“Not bloody likely, Slayer. We had a deal. I sing, you sing. You can’t back out of the deal now.” He smirked in that way that could make her forget how sweet he could be sometimes. “You‘re not scared now, are you?”

She huffed indignantly and stood up. “Me, scared? Never.” But even as she said it, her face was getting a little paler.

Spike made a dramatic gesture with his arm. “Well go on then. Your adoring fans are waiting.”

She threw a dark look his way, then took a tentative step toward the stage. Then another, and another until she finally reached it. She looked like she would bolt at any moment now. He could see her glancing in every direction to try finding an escape route. But she was smart enough to know that he’d manage to stop her from leaving.

Actually, Spike almost felt sorry for her. When he saw her hesitating in front of the stage, he wanted to go to her and tell her to forget the whole thing, but then she took a deep breath and took the final steps to the mic. She changed her mind and walked up to the MC who was just about to put on her song. Then, she came back to the microphone.

“Hi. I’m sorry everybody, there was a last minute change in my choice of song. This is for the most patient man in the world. He’s got to be, because he puts up with me. It’s my way to say I’m sorry.”

An apology from Buffy. Spike just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There were two things that he thought he’d never hear Buffy Summers say to him. “I love you.” and “I’m sorry.” Spike was stunned. The song started and he didn’t recognize it, but the lyrics when she started singing, made him laugh and shake his head.

I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know but I can't change
Tried to tell you
But you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet
Yesterday I cried
Must have been relieved to see
The softer side
I can understand how you'd be so confused
I don't envy you
I'm a little bit of everything
All rolled into one

She finished her rendition of 'Bitch', bowed shyly when people cheered and applauded, and came back to the table.

“Thanks luv. But you don’t have anything to apologize for. I already told you that you were right.”

“I know. But I’m not stupid, Spike. I know I’m not always easy to deal with. And yet, no matter how many times we argue or fight, or how irrational I get, you put up with it. Not a lot of people would let me be myself and still stick around. My friends, I love them, but they expect me to be perfect and it’s hard sometimes. You make me feel like it’s OK for me to have flaws.”

“Wouldn’t want you any different, Slayer. What you say are flaws, really aren‘t. It’s all part of the package and I like it all. You never have to be someone else with me. Perfect people don’t exist, and if they did, they’d be boring as hell. Believe me pet, I don’t mind the arguments. It keeps things interesting between us.”

God she wanted to kiss him just then.

Instead, Buffy broke the silence to keep things from getting too intense. “Wanna go somewhere else? I heard there’s a party by the pool.”

“Don’t you want to stay to see if one of us won?”

“We can come back later. They’re going to announce the winner at 2am.”

She knew Spike was only there to make her happy and she felt it was her turn to make him happy. Besides, a party by the pool sounded good. She’d had enough of bad singing for one night. Dancing Queen made the decision easier. Slayer and Vampire both made a face and stood up.

“Yeah, let’s bugger off before our ears start bleeding.”

She nodded enthusiastically, eager to escape. Unless Spike was singing, Karaoke wasn’t as fun as she’d thought it would be.

As they walked by the table where the Italian woman was sitting with her companion, Spike noticed she was still looking at them. He told Buffy to wait and went back to where the two were sitting.

Buffy saw him lean towards the woman and say something. The woman’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed an interesting shade of red. Spike winked at her and went back to Buffy.

She frowned in confusion. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing bad. I just informed her that we were flattered, but that we are not into that sort of thing.” He waggled his eyebrows to make his meaning clearer.

Spike could read Buffy’s thoughts just by looking at her face. There was the blank expression as she tried to process what he‘d just said, then the widening of her hazel eyes as she finally got what he‘d implied, followed by her cheeks turning pink in embarrassment and, finally...

“SPIKE!!”

The vampire laughed and grabbed her hand to lead her out of the bar.

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CHAPTER 7: One too many rejection

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