Chapter 5
On Friday, Spike found out just WHY Willow had looked at him so gratefully. Buffy, from what he could tell, was a very intelligent young woman. She was quick witted, and bright, with a strong grasp on things related to history or english. However, when it came to numbers, it was like her entire brain shut down and she barely comprehended 1+1. After an hour of trying to explain theories and proofs, Spike's head flopped loudly on the kitchen table. He let out a yell of frustration that caused Buffy to jump, and Joyce to rush in from her office just off the living room. Dawn was nowhere to be seen, since she had locked herself in her room, probably with her headphones on at full blast when she realized that she wouldn't be able to hover around Spike, because he was there to study.
"Geez, over dramatic much?" Buffy sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the blonde. He looked up at her with eyes so full of angry frustration, she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"This is not that bloody hard," he spat, slamming his book closed with a snap. Joyce stepped forward, hoping to thwart the obvious argument that was brewing. The air around the two was charged with so much electricity, it was palpable.
"Why don't you guys take a break? I have some lemonade in the fridge," she offered, moving to get the glasses. "William, do you want to stay for dinner?" she asked, turning back to face them.
"No thank you, Mrs. Summers. I have date a tonight." Spike managed not to cringe as he thought of the evening to come. Xander so owed him. Joyce managed not to smile at the scowl that crossed Buffy's face.
"Yeah, with Harmony Kendal, leader of the brain dead in Sunnydale society," she scoffed, her smile nasty. One dark brow shot up at that.
"Jealous, pet?" he purred, chuckling when she blanched.
"Eck, whatever," she huffed, grateful when the phone rang. She jumped at the phone, plastering a large smile in her face. "Oh, hello, Angel," she sang into he receiver, her voice bright. Joyce thought it sounded a little forced, and settled into a chair next to Spike when Buffy left the kitchen.
"Thank you for trying to help her. I'm afraid she was blessed with my mathematic inabilities," she said with a chuckle. "Just don't give up." He looked at her then, wondering if it was just wishful thinking that he heard more behind her words than just encouragement to keep tutoring her. Her eyes sparkled back at him, and he couldn't help grinning.
"I always liked a challenge," he said, his face turning serious. "I was wondering, if maybe you might have some work for me." At Joyce's confused look, he hurried on. "Well, Dad's being a real tosser about me getting a job and all, since that business back in London," he said, sliding smoothly over the truth, not wanting to delve into it. "And, I was just wondering if you had anything needed doing around here, or the gallery." She looked at him for a minute, tilting her head as if she was studying one of her art pieces. He just looked down at the table, idly playing with the edge of his book. He looked so nervous, and she had to smile again.
"I think something can be arranged. I always need someone to look after the lawn, I'm afraid neither of my girls were born with a green thumb, and I don't have the time myself. So, if you know how to handle a lawnmower, and a pair of hedging sheers, you have a job. And, of course I will pay you for tutoring Buffy." He shook his head at that, starting to say no, that wouldn't be necessary, but she just waved him away. "It's the least I can do to repay you for the long hours of gratuitous swearing you are going to do. And if you can actually get her to pass, I will be forever in your debt," she said with a chuckle. Her daughter really could be quite pig headed. Spike smiled, and looked back down at his book. "Is there something else on your mind?" she asked. He looked up again, his blue eyes swirling with the need to say something. "What is it?"
"A friend of mine is in some trouble, and I don't know what to do," he shot out in a rush. He still hadn't talked to his father, and he had decided to ask Mrs. Summers, since she knew Xander already.
"What happened?" She had a feeling she knew who he was talking about, but she would let him control the conversation.
"Well, it seems that he's from an abusive home, and I wanted to help him." Spike's brows drew together as he spoke, not sure if he was phrasing himself correctly. Xander had not allowed any further talk about the incident at his house, and Spike had not wanted to push.
"All I can say is, be his friend. Be there to talk if he needs it, but don't push," she offered, her suspicions confirmed. Spike just nodded, shooting her a tight smile.
"I just don't understand," he said, looking down at his black tipped fingers, picking at a chip in the lacquer.
"Some things just can't be explained. It's not as bad as it used to be," was all the comfort she could offer him. Shock permeated the depths of his eyes as he thought about it. No, he supposed it wasn't as bad anymore. Xander was a big enough guy, capable of defending himself.
"Thanks," he said, rising from his seat. "When do you want me to start on the lawn?" he asked, gathering up his stuff. She smiled at the abrupt change in subject, thinking he and his father weren't as different as they both thought.
"The beginning of the summer, I guess. That's not to far away, and you will have your hands full with Buffy til then." *I wish* he thought, ruefully, barely managing to keep the thought to himself. Not a good thing to say to the mother of the object of his fantasies.
"Alright, Tell her, I'll give her a ring tomorrow. I can come over before we go to the track." Joyce nodded, happy that Xander had such a good friend. And somebody to share his love of cars with.
"Okay, see you tomorrow then." He nodded, and waved at her, smiling at Dawn as she wandered into he kitchen.
"Bye Spike," she called, walking over to the window so she could watch him walk across the back yard.
"Hey, kiddo. Want to order pizza for dinner?" Joyce asked, glancing at the time and realizing that she hadn't pulled out anything for dinner.
"Sure," Dawn answered, still staring into the backyard. Joyce just smiled, picking up the phone, forgetting that Buffy was still on it. Hanging back up on the indignant squawking her eldest was doing, she went to get her purse to find her cellphone, praying the whole way for God to save her from over hormonal daughters.
"Birds are late," Spike said, leaning over to take his shot. Xander nodded, not wanting to admit how much he was disappointed. Granted, he tried to remember that this WAS Cordelia Chase, and she would think that being late was a way to make a grand entrance. Spike waved a hand in front of the brunette's eyes, gaining his attention. "Your shot. Don't look so panicked. I'm sure they'll show," he offered, leaning his hip against the stool by the railing that looked over the dance floor. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, striking a match and lighting it.
He had just inhaled his first puff, when he saw them enter. Xander had seen them at the same time, completely missing his shot. Cordelia looked delectable in her white lace, spaghetti strapped dress, the hem barely skimming her knees. It fit her like skin, the material clinging happily to her curves. On her feet were a simple pair of white flats, her legs stocking free to show off her tanned skin. Her dark hair cascaded around her shoulders in waves, and her eyes were painted a smoky blue, her mouth a dark burgundy. Spike found himself transfixed by the image she created as well. No wonder Xander had been panting after her since Junior High. Maybe even longer by the way Willow teased him about it.
He hissed out a breath when Harmony moved into view, looking for all the world like one of those chits in that ridiculous movie Clueless. He hadn't actually seen it, of course, merely paused during his aimless flipping of channels one night. She had on a short, blue plaid skirt, knee socks, black Mary Jane's and a gauzey looking white shirt that flowed with a blue sweater over top. Cursing himself once more for allowing himself to get caught up in 'As the High School Turns', he crushed out his cigarette and went to nudge Xander out of his stupor.
"Hello, ladies," he said, having to drag Xander along behind him. Cordelia was putting off her usual bored attitude. Harmony smiled brightly up at Spike, which he returned. Until he happened to look up at the door and saw Buffy and Willow walk in, Cheshire cat grins on their faces. "Bugger," he groaned as they waved, and wove through the crowd, finding a table just far enough away to not be too obvious in their intent.
"Cordelia, you look beautiful," Xander put out before he could stop himself. His eyes widened in horror for a second, before he looked away, calling himself every kind of idiot. He waited for the scathing remark that was sure to come, but all he heard was the steady throb of the music. He looked back up at her, and noticed she was smiling. A real smile. Not one of those 'oh, you poor little peon, come bask in my presence' type smiles.
"Thank you," she said, looking away nervously. She didn't know where all this was coming from. She had known Xander her whole life, most of which she had spent mocking him. But ever since they started High School, she had started to notice him, as more than just the loser she had thought he was. The fact that she had spent an hour trying on everything in her closet tonight, was a testament to that fact. She was scared senseless, partly because of what her friends would think. Mostly because she just had a gut feeling she could lose herself to this man, and that thought terrified her. When Harmony had started making moon eyes at the new guy, who just happened to hang with Xander, she'd jumped on it. She also could sense that Spike was as uninterested in Harmony as a guy could get without being repulsed, but he was playing along for their benefit. She liked him for that.
Spike looked between the three, trying hard not to roll his eyes. Sighing, he pulled out a cigarette, and lit it, chuckling at the look of disgust that crossed Harmony's face.
"You know, those things'll kill you," she said daintily, arching a brow as he lifted it to his lips.
"A lot of things'll kill me pet. I just prefer to pick my poison," he answered, giving her a wide smile. She giggled, a sound which seemed to instantly grate his nerves, and batted her eyes.
"Well, okay," she said, not realizing the sarcastic intent of his reply. He heaved a deep sigh, which he covered with taking another drag, and looked over at the two brunettes who were busy trying hard NOT to look at each other. Spike shook his head in disgust, and looked back down at Harmony. She was steadily staring at him, clasping her hands in front of her, and swaying a bit.
"Right," he said, mostly to himself, trying to suss out how to break the unbelievable tension that was flowing through the small group. *Better come up with something, or this little venture will have been for nothing,* he told himself. Still holding the pool cue, he looked at it, then back at Xander. "Know how to play?" he asked, indicating the cue. Harmony shook her head, smiling again. "Fancy a try?"
"Sure," she said with a shrug, following him to the table. Spike walked around the table, running into Xander in the process.
"Ask her to dance," he hissed, as a slow song started to play. He then turned to Harmony, put on his most charming smile and started to explain the rules of the game. He took the stick out of Xander's hand and gave him another push.
"Uh, wanna dance?" Xander asked, wiping suddenly wet hands on his pants. Cordy looked stunned, losing her normal cool attitude for a second.
"Sure, don't say I never give to charity," she quipped, gliding towards the dance floor. Xander followed her, praying he didn't make an ass out of himself. Spike watched as they moved into each other's arms, stiff as boards for the first few seconds. Then, they seemed to relax, their bodies moving in tune with each other. As the song progressed, they grew more comfortable, until Cordy's head was resting against Xander's shoulder, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck.
Spike smiled, splitting his attention between the couple on the dance floor, and the girl at his side. His gaze happened to graze over Buffy and Willow, who were watching Cordy and Xander with mixed expressions of disbelief, awe, and delight. Buffy turned to him, their eyes locking, and everything around them seemed to fall away. For one brief second, nothing else mattered except the clash of hazel and blue, and the recognition of something electric. Then, one of them blinked, and it was over. Buffy turned back to Willow, who had suddenly found something, or someone very interesting on the stage, and he turned back to Harmony.
"Is this right?" she asked, leaning as far across the table as she dared, her skirt inching up in the process.
"No. Here, let me show you." He leaned over her, fitting his arms around hers and guiding her hands with his. She nearly trilled with excitement, not paying any attention to what he was telling her, too caught up on the feel of him pressed against her.
"Ugh. Do you see that?" Buffy huffed after she glanced back at the pool table. "Think he could wrap himself any MORE around her? Yech." She didn't notice Willow not paying attention to her, too busy being grossed out. When Harmony stood up, she said something to Spike, and he dipped his head to hear her, a smile curling his lips. Buffy felt her breath hitch and scowled. *Boyfriend, Buffy, boyfriend,* she repeated like a mantra to herself. She scowled again when Harmony placed her hand flat against his chest, and angled her body closer to his. He was staring down at her, listening to every word she said, looking at her like she was the only one in the room. A pure shot of female jealousy stabbed through Buffy. "Can you believe that? Little hussy. Throwing herself at him like that. And of course, him being male, and eternally led around by his dick, he's falling for it," she said in disgust. She looked over at Willow for confirmation, and finally noticed that the redhead hadn't heard a word she was saying. "Well, would you look at that? They're fucking, right there on the table."
"Really?" Willow said, eyes never turning away from the stage.
"Goodness, and now Cordy and Xander have joined in, and they're having an orgy."
"Sounds good." Buffy rolled her eyes, and looked up at the stage to see what was so fascinating. She found herself staring as well. The guitar player had stepped up to the mike while Cordy and Xander were dancing, taking over the vocals. His smooth, deep voice filled the small club, his fingers playing along the guitar like it was a cherished lover. Long fingers sought and found the chords with ease. Strong arms held the instrument lovingly, his tall, lean body curving to it as if protecting it from harm. Tight stomach muscles rippled from beneath a black leather vest, contouring up to a smooth, hard chest. The strap of the guitar rested across one strong shoulder, his dark hair spilling across the other. Full, sensual lips were pressed lightly against the microphone, occasionally drifting into a smile. High cheek bones led to ink black eyes, which then flowed into a high forehead. Long, long legs encased in jeans that should have been illegal they were so tight, held him upright on the stage, making him seem larger than life. He was chiseled out of stone, beautiful and savage all at once.
"Yum," Buffy said, her mind conjuring up an image of Spike just so, and the picture was just as appealing as the one currently there. The song ended, and he smiled, then waved, and drifted back into the shadows to allow the lead singer to retake possession of the mike. Willow sighed in disappointment, and turned back to Buffy, her green eyes drifting to the pool table.
"Lord, could she GET anymore obvious?" Willow spat, not realizing she had missed Buffy's entire dialogue about the very same thing. The blonde just chuckled, forgiving her friend for her inattentiveness. After all, if she didn't have Angel, she might've done the same thing. *Tell yourself another one,* her mind sing songed. It wasn't Angel she had been obsessing over.
"I know. She might as well strip naked and dance the lambada for as subtle as she's being." Buffy turned her eyes to the still dancing couple on the floor. "That's nice though. And I never thought I would use those words in the same sentence when it came to Cordelia," she said with a chuckle.
"Yeah. You know, he's had a crush on her since kindergarten," Willow said with a smile.
"I'm glad to see she finally took her blinders off."
"Yeah, and Spike's a great friend, putting up with Harmony for him."
"What?" Buffy asked, confused. She had thought that Spike had WANTED to go out with Harmony.
"You didn't think that Spike would want to go out with Harmony, did you?"
"Well, yeah. Why do it, otherwise?" she answered with a shrug. Willow rolled her eyes.
"Okay, say that I liked a guy, but he was too shy, or worried what his friends might think to ask me out. Then, one of HIS friends takes a liking to you. Now, the only way I'm going to get asked out is if the friend asks you out. What do you do?" Willow asked, looking at Buffy.
"I go on the date with the friend, even if he's the biggest jerk in the Universe," Buffy said, understanding hitting her. She didn't know why she felt so happy that Spike was only doing a favor for Xander, instead of actually wanting to be with Harmony.
"Exactly," Willow beamed, picking up her drink and taking a long swallow. She turned her eyes back to the stage, to try to find the guitar player once again. He was standing off to the left, the lights playing off the inky blackness of his hair. She sighed, her face turning dreamy. Buffy rolled her eyes when she saw that she had lost her friend's attention yet again. With a chuckle, she sat back in her seat, happily ignoring the fool that Harmony was making out of herself with Spike, and watched the end of the show.
The foursome walked out of the Bronze and into the warm night. Cordy and Xander were walking ahead of the blondes, talking quietly. They had spent most of the evening dancing, the band seeming to work with them, only playing slow songs. Xander's form of fast dancing would have frightened her off. They had talked while they swayed together, discussing the good barbs they had thrown at each other over years, as well as school and friends. Xander had been surprised to find out how easy she was to talk to when her guard was down.
Spike had done his duty like a good friend, coping with Harmony's chatter, and unsubtle lustful hints. He was pretty sure, if he wanted, that he could have a nice round of slap and tickle with the girl. Things like that never did much for him. Always made him think of that advertisement for birth control.
'You're not just sleeping with them, you're sleeping with everybody THEY'VE slept with.' And he was not ready for his personals to go rotting and falling off. Not to mention the whole AIDS issue. Was enough to make a bloke think about staying a virgin. Almost. Since he definitely wasn't that.
"I had a good time tonight," Harmony said, turning to face him as they reached the car.
"Good. Me too," he lied smoothly. In his mind, he was conjuring all the injuries he could inflict upon Xander for making him put up with this all night. They better not need the group thing the next time.
"Well, goodnight," she said, hovering beside the open car door. She looked up at him expectantly, and Spike had to suppress a groan. *Now what?* he growled inwardly. He didn't want to kiss her, and let her think that there might be more nights like this. But he didn't want to ruin Xander's chances with Cordelia, either. Girls had a tendency to run in packs, defending each other with an odd sort of ferocity. Resigning himself, he dipped his head and brushed his lips gently across hers. She sighed against his mouth, seeking to deepen the kiss. He managed to pull back before she succeeded.
"Goodnight, pet." She blinked, and looked confused. He smiled down at her, hoping to ease any sting of rejection she might be feeling. She smiled back, hesitantly, turning to glance at Cordelia. To both of their surprise, the brunettes were engaged in a serious lip lock, Cordy's slim frame pressed against the driver's side door. "Ahem." Spike cleared his throat, hoping to gently pry them apart. Neither seemed to hear him. "AHEM!" he said louder, chuckling as they came apart in surprise. "About that time, Xan."
"Oh, right," Xander said, running a hand through his hair. "Can I call you tomorrow?" he asked, looking down at Cordelia. She smiled wide, her beauty nearly staggering him.
"Yeah, I'd like that. Would you thank Spike for me?" she asked, lowering her voice so Harm wouldn't overhear.
"For what?" She leaned up, and moved her mouth close to his ear, the rush of her breath against his skin making him shiver.
"Putting up with Harmony all night." He snorted, then nodded, opening her door for her. Spike moved to stand next to him, cigarette planted firmly in his lips. They watched the car as it disappeared into the night.
"You owe me," Spike said, still looking in the direction the car went.
"Yeah, I know," was all Xander said as they turned and started to walk down the street.
Chapter 6
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.