Blue Eyed Devil

Part Forty-two:

All alone in what felt like a ridiculously over sized

bed, Buffy missed him. The little snatches of sleep

she fell into weren't enough to even start a halfway

decent dream, and when she was awake, all she

did was think about him and sniffle.

Her back ached horribly from her period, and she

would have loved nothing better than to cuddle

into Spike's warmth. Although she'd known that

she was at the wrong end of the month for con-

ception, she still had a vaguely let down feeling.

Unable to pin it on anything else. she attributed

that to Spike's departure as well.

The phone ringing was a welcome distraction, even

at 10:00 pm. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby...."

**Thank god**

"Spike...hi. Are you in Seattle?"

"Um, no....we're about 100 miles out. Bus got a flat,

and we had to wait around for that to get fixed."

She smiled. "For a big important star like you they

should send out a new one."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He paused a moment,

then said, "Listen, love...I'm sorry I was such a mess at

the airport. I just....I hated the idea of being so far away

from you."

"Spike..." She could feel her throat tighten at the

memory. "I wasn't any better off than you were, believe

me."

"Didja find the letter?"

"Yes. It was beautiful."

"Well....I meant every word of it. Gonna write another

song. Just for you. Would you like that, sweetheart?"

"So much." She nodded, forgetting for a moment that

he couldn't see her. "Make it a pretty one."

"Pretty as you are? No problem."

Buffy caught a glance of herself in the wall mirror. Pretty

did not really describe the way she looked at the moment.

Her hair was a mess, her make up was smeared around

her eyes like a raccoon, and her clothes were rumpled from

sleep. "Ugh," she said softly, sticking her tongue out at

her reflection. "To be honest, I look pretty hideous at the

moment."

There was a short silence, then Spike asked, "What's

wrong?"

"Nothing." Buffy's fingers tightened on the handset. "I

just miss you."

"I miss you, too, baby....now tell me what's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" she hedged.

"Just what I said. You sound out of sorts. Are you sick?"

He sounded like he was looking for an excuse to hop

the next plane back, and she briefly considered letting

him do just that.

She sighed. "Of course not," she said, matter-of-factly. "I

just...my period started is all. It makes me a little....out

of sorts."

"Oh."

Was it her imagination, or did he sound disappointed?

He suddenly chuckled, a sound that sent warmth all the way

through her. "Better luck next time, right?"

"Wha...what did you say?" **Please hold while I

find a tape recorder, or a court stenographer..**

After a pause, she heard him take a deep breath. "I

said....maybe I'll have better luck next time."

"At what?"

"At what do you think?"

God, this man could be frustrating! "I don't know. How

would I know?"

"Well, I'm not talking about a lottery scratch off,

love. Come on....don't tell me you've never thought

about it?"

"About.....?"

She heard him exhale heavily.

"You really like it all down in black and white, don't you?"

he muttered, then spoke up. "About having a baby."

Buffy shoved her face into her pillow and screamed, then

placed the phone back to her ear and spoke calmly. "You

mean....you and me?"

"What?!" He laughed. "No, 'course not. I meant the pandas

at the Washington Zoo. I read in the paper here that

they're trying to do the deed, but no soap."

"Spike..."

"Performance anxiety. That's the problem. I mean, just

imagine trying to make love to your girlfriend while some

git in a lab coat is standing on the sidelines, waiting to

stick a thermometer up her...."

"Spike!"

"Yes, darling?"

She couldn't help it, she had to laugh. "Stop teasing me."

"But it's so much fun."

"For YOU."

"Yeah, for me. Now tell me you love me."

Buffy smiled. "I love you."

"Now tell me that you want...shhhhhhssssss...uch as I

do, baby!"

"What?" She strained her ears as hard as she could. "I

didn't get that? Spike?"

She heard a loud hiss and pop, then several clicks....

"..... uffy? Can you hear..........." Static crackled.

"No," she almost shouted. "I...I can't hear you! Spike!"

After another round of hissing and clicking, his voice

cleared. ".....you when I get there, okay? Love you,

baby!"

"Spike! Wait. I can hear..." The line went dead. "...you

now."

Buffy slammed the phone back into its cradle, uttering

a word she'd only used once in her life before, and not

a bit sorry for it.

********************************

Ring-ring.....ring-ring......

"Hello?"

"Baby, I'm sorry," a voice whispered. "I know it's late but

we just got in and I had to make sure you were okay. You

feeling any better?"

Buffy rubbed her eyes and peered at the bedside clock. "Yeah,

I'm fine. Why are you whispering?"

"Oh, there was a mix up with the hotel and I'm sharing

the room with Oz."

"No fancy suite this time?"

"Supposed to be, but no. Listen, darling...you go back

to sleep and I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Are you going

to work?"

"Um...yeah. Of course."

"Of course," he echoed. "That's my sensible Miss Buffy.

Talk to you tomorrow, then. I love you."

"I love you, too."

She hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling.

There were times she really hated sensible Miss Buffy.

*****************************************

He called the next day during the lunch break, but

was only able to talk for a few minutes when he

was called away to solve some sort of lyrics dispute

before, as he said, Xander and Andy came to blows

over it.

She didn't hear from him again until after his perfor-

mance, and he sounded so tired that she didn't want

to keep him on the phone too long.

Over the next few days, Blue Eyed Devil traveled from

Seattle to Salt Lake City to Denver. Buffy only got hurried

phone calls reporting their progress, since they were moving

so quickly.

On Friday afternoon, he called the school. Buffy was

waiting for it.

"Hey, I have a surprise for you!" she announced. "Wait."

She ran back to her class and assembled them into a

semi-orderly line, then marched them down to Willow's

office where she pushed the speaker button on the phone

and nodded at them.

"Hi, Spike!" they chorused, fairly in voice with one

another.

Buffy heard him laugh. "Hi, kids. You being good for

Miss Buffy?"

She shook her head and gave them a teasingly baleful

look, but they knew that one and just giggled.

"They learned a new song," she said. "Do you have

time to hear it?"

She'd warned them that he might not, had tried to

explain how busy he was on this tour, but like children

everywhere they'd chosen to believe otherwise.

"Of course I do," he said, justifying their faith. "Let me

hear it, guys!"

Buffy led them through a slightly off key verse of 'This

Land Is Your Land', and when they were finished, she

held up a hand for silence so they could hear him.

"That was wonderful!" he said loudly. In the background

she could hear a lot of whistling and clapping. "Everybody

here liked it!"

"How could THEY hear?" Samantha asked, tugging on

Buffy's sleeve.

"I put you all on the speaker," Spike answered. "Thank you

for the song, all of you. I miss you."

The entire group of children babbled out different

versions of "We miss you, too."

Willow escorted them back to their classroom, and Buffy took

the phone off speaker. "Did you like that?"

"I sure did, baby. That's the nicest thing I've heard all

day. I can't tell you how....what? I don't know...ask..."

On her end, Buffy heard someone talking to him. "You'd

better go."

"Yeah, I guess. Sounds like I've gotta knock a couple of

heads together. Guess whose I mean?"

Before ending the call he advised her to keep an eye out

for some mail he'd be sending, stressed that it was very

important, then completely exasperated her by making

kissing sounds and hanging up when she tried to pry

more information out of him.

**********************************

Buffy finished out the rest of her day in the best mood

she'd been in all week.

After sending the last little one out the door with his

parents, she tidied her classroom, locked up for the

weekend and said goodbye to Willow.

The tingly sensations skittering up and down her

spine made her step a little bouncier and her voice

a little cheerier as she went about the mundane

chores of living.

She dropped off some clothes to be dry cleaned, then

ran into the market and did her shopping for the week.

Before heading home, she stopped to fill her gas tank.

The station she frequented was across the parking

lot of 'Sunnydale Savings and Loan', and she turned

her back quickly when she saw Riley Finn exit the

building and get into his car, hoping he wouldn't

notice her.

The last thing she wanted at that moment was for

Riley to see her and ask her out.

**Nice guy, that Riley,** she thought, watching him

drive away. **Just not the RIGHT guy...**

Someday soon she'd have to lay her cards

on the table with him, let him know that friendship

was all they would ever have together. It wasn't

fair to let him think otherwise, and she wasn't going

to spend the rest of her life devising excuses for

turning down his invitations to dinner and a movie.

Soon....but not today. Today her thoughts were all

for Spike Devlin, and she wasn't about to let anything

interfere with them.

************************************

As she stood on the front porch, juggling her packages

while simultaneously searching for her keys, she saw

that the mailbox had a package in it. She shoved the

door open, dropped everything she was carrying on the

floor and retrieved it.

It was a thick mailing envelope, with her address

written in black marking pen. She slit open

the end, then tilted it, catching the contents in

her hand.

A videotape. Plain, black, standard everyday

videotape. The only clue to what might be on it

was a post it sticker, its message written in the same

hand as the envelope.

Watch me!

"Okay." Obediently, she popped the tape into

the VCR, turned on the television, and pressed

'Play'.

TBC.......

Part Forty-three:

The first part of the tape was nothing but

scratchy static. She waited patiently and when

she was just about to hit the fast forward button,

the static cleared and she was presented with a

large number five.

As she watched, the five changed to a four,

then to a three, then a two, then skipped right

over the number one.

Perplexed, she watched the opening credits

of something called "A.M. in Seattle". It turned

out to be a typical morning show, part news and

part nonsense.

She hadn't the faintest idea why she'd been in-

structed to watch it until the perky blonde news-

caster, who seemed revoltingly happy for someone

up at such a wretched hour of the morning, turned

to talk to the entertainment editor, Paula Collins.

A slow smile began to form on Buffy's face when

Ms. Collins informed all of Seattle that she'd scored

an exclusive interview with a very hot new band

that was selling out venues faster than they could be

booked.

Buffy grabbed the remote and zapped through all

the filler, only stopping when Collins reappeared on

the screen.

She waited patiently as the woman described the

rapid rise of 'Blue Eyed Devil', raved about all their

number one hits, then introduced a few snippets of

concert footage.

When Spike appeared on screen, Buffy's heart began

to skip along with the beat of the music. She'd heard

the song several times, but she couldn't take her eyes

off the lead singer.

The film had been taken the previous night, when

the band had performed at the Key Arena....which

Buffy was informed was the home of the Seattle Super-

sonics.

As the camera panned the large crowd, she was

amazed at what she was seeing. This place was three

times the size of the theater in San Francisco, and it

looked like it was pretty filled up with people happy

to be there.

The interview was being conducted backstage in

a room that looked a lot like the one she and Spike

had made use of in San Francisco.

Ms. Collins chatted briefly with each of them, and

they responded as their individual personalities

dictated; Oz was quiet and succinct, Xander remained

funny and ebullient, and every other word Andy uttered

was bleeped out.

Spike, though, was the real spokesman of the foursome,

the frontman with the information everyone wanted to

know. His eyes flashed with humor and energy as he

fielded questions about how it felt to be such a fast rising

star in the world of rock and roll music, a world that never

stopped in one place for very long.

Buffy, whose heart and soul had been aching from

his absence, was transfixed, hanging on every word he

spoke.

Ms. Collins then made a joking comment about all the

young girls that were screaming for them in the audience,

asking them if they were enjoying that sort of attention.

Oz just shrugged, while Andy and Xander agreed

wholeheartedly that it was one of the best side effects

yet.

"But don't ask Spike," Xander added in a stage

whisper. "He's sort of...spoken for."

The camera panned over to Spike, who was actually

looking a little sleepy and uninterested in the direction

of the interview.

"Is that right?" Ms. Collins asked him in a flirty way

that made Buffy frown.

Spike didn't hesitate to reply. "Very much spoken for," he

said quietly, then practically yawned in the woman's

face. "I've got a beautiful girl waiting for me that I can't

wait to go home to."

The interviewer looked slightly miffed, then turned her

attention to the remainder of the band for the rest of her

segment.

Buffy couldn't help herself. She rewound the tape four

times, just to hear him say it again.

When the entertainment segment was over, she nearly

shut off the tape. A few seconds later, it went briefly black,

then flickered back on.

This time though, Spike was the only one on film. She

saw him move backwards, as though he'd just pushed

the 'record' button, then he moved in front of the

lens.

"Hi, baby," he said softly, seating himself on a stool

in what looked to be his hotel room. "I had one of the

road crew tape the interview for you, and then I thought

I'd tack this on at the end. I wrote it for you, love."

"Another one for me?" she asked out loud, as though

he was sitting right there and could answer her.

And then, to her complete and upper amazement, he

did!

"You're my muse, sweetheart. They're all for you now."

he said, leaning over and picked up his guitar...his favorite,

his first...and strumming it, picking out another lovely

melody.

"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

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..."

The song was so beautiful it brought tears to her

eyes.

"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...."

This was definitely going to be her favorite. Not just

the song itself, but the way he was looking into the

camera, looking straight at her. The light in his eyes

was taking her breath away.

"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

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...."

When the song ended, he put his guitar down

and looked back at her. "I sure do miss you,

kitten. Listen, I don't suppose there's a chance I

could talk you into quitting your job and coming

along with me, is there?"

His tone was light, but if he'd been standing right

there at the moment, she'd probably be racing

upstairs to pack her bags.

He laughed a bit, and his eyes were so soft...the

curve of his mouth so tender...that she could almost

taste the sweet way he kissed her.

"I know the little ones need Miss Buffy," he went

on, shrugging his shoulders, "but I need her, too."

Pausing for a moment, he then took a deep breath.

"I'd even be willing to sweeten the deal....with a

big diamond ring."

She wasn't sure what it said about her state of mind,

but it took her a full thirty seconds to realize what

he'd just said.

"What? What did you say?" she squealed. Groping

for the remote, she accidentally hit the 'off' button,

cursed at the gadget, then punched 'play' and 'rewind'.

"....be willing to sweeten the deal with a great big

diamond ring."

"Oh, my god...he....did he...he DID...didn't he?"

"...I know, I know...we haven't been together long

enough, have we?" Spike said then. "All right, I

won't push you into something you aren't ready for,

love. But...when you are....it's going to be me."

"Well...well wait a minute," Buffy answered, for-

getting in the surrealism of the moment that he

wasn't actually there. "Just wait...I might be

ready...I mean, I hadn't thought about it before,

but...but..."

"Anyway, baby," he said, "I hope you liked the

song, and think about what I said, all right? Will

you do that for me? Maybe you might have an

answer next time we talk? Goodnight, love."

He leaned forward, the screen went fuzzy.....

And the telephone rang.

TBC....

(Hmm, I wonder who THAT could be?)

Part Forty-four:

The phone startled her so badly that she shot three

feet in the air and dropped the remote once again.

It hit the floor, took a bad bounce, and somehow acti-

vated the volume button. The soft buzz of the snowy

screen turned into a booming shriek that made the

television's speakers vibrate and crackle.

Dropping to her knees, Buffy punched the off button

on the front of the TV, then dove for the phone.

"Hello?" she nearly sang.

"Buffy? Hi, it's Riley Finn. How are you?"

Her heart, which had been soaring with the eagles,

took a sudden turn for mother earth.

"Oh, hi, Riley," she said, forcing herself to remain polite

in the manner her mother had never ceased drilling into

her. "I'm fine. How about you?"

"Fine, too, thanks for asking." He cleared his throat. "I

saw you earlier...you were filling up your car?"

So much for not being noticed.

"Really?" she asked, trying to sound surprised. "Well..what

do you know about that?" Buffy rolled her eyes, disgusted

at how lame she sounded.

On the other end of the line, Riley chuckled. "Actually...it

got me to thinking that it's been a while since we got

together...." His voice trailed off, a clear hint in his tone.

Buffy closed her eyes tight, rubbing her forehead. "Oh, yes,

I guess so." She just was not in the mood for this discussion

at the moment. "Um...I can't really make plans right now,

Riley," she added, shifting from one foot to the other, wishing

she'd let the machine field this call for her. "I'm just so busy."

"Oh.."

He sounded disappointed, and she began to feel

guilty. Riley was a good man, one of the few still out

there. He'd always treated her well, and he deserved the

same consideration.

"But," she went on, hoping she was going to be able

to do what had to be done without chickening out. "I did

want to talk to you about...something. Maybe...."

"Well, great," he interrupted, his voice cheering right

up. "How about dinner tonight?"

There was no way she could have dinner with Riley. She

knew that as clearly as she knew her name and address.

Sitting in a restaurant, waiting for the right moment to

bring up the fact that she had no further interest in pursuing

any relationship other than a casually friendly one...the very

thought of it made her stomach tighten in protest.

"Well, dinner won't really work for me," she said quickly. "I

sort of already have plans....but maybe we could meet for

coffee?"

He hesitated, then said, "Sure, all right. Coffee would be

great. I can pick you up and..."

"No," she cut him off. "I'll meet you at the Espresso Pump...if

that's all right?"

"Okay, sure. What time?"

She glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was nearly

6:30. "An hour?" That would work well for her. She could

get it over and done with, and get home early...just in case

Spike called.

**********************************************************

Buffy dressed carefully for her meeting (she refused to

call it a date, and appointment sounded like she was

seeing him for a job interview) with Riley.

She didn't want to give him the impression that she was

trying to attract him by dressing the way she might were

she meeting Spike instead, so she reverted back to old

habits and took the 'prim and proper' approach.

After donning a slim denim skirt and a pale blue

sweater, she applied a light amount of make up and

put up her hair into a neat french braid. She skipped any

sort of fragrance, and the only jewelry she wore was the

silver bracelet watch her mother had given her for her

twenty-first birthday.

When she was satisfied with her appearance, she

grabbed her keys, locked up the house, and drove

downtown.

Parking on the street was scarce, and she drove past

'the Pump' and headed for the public parking garage on

the next block. After grabbing a ticket from the machine,

she swung into the first available space, her tiny car

dwarfed on either side by SUVs designed to transport a

family of at least twelve.

Riley was waiting for her, sitting at one of the outside

tables. He smiled as she walked towards him, rising to

his feet and pulling out the chair next to his.

'Hey, Buffy...you look great." He leaned over to drop a kiss

on her cheek.

"Thanks, Riley," she said quietly, making herself accept

the brief contact. "You, too."

It was a true statement. Riley Finn was a handsome man,

there was no denying it, and most women would probably

think her mad as a March Hare for telling him what she

was here to tell him.

His eyes, a steady, clear gray, looked into hers with frank

admiration as he grinned a little shyly.

Buffy sat down and scooted her chair in, setting her

purse on the ground beside her.

"I waited to order,' Riley said, sitting down himself and

handing her a menu with an extensive list of the various

coffee drinks offered.

But Buffy had no interest in experimenting with exotic

flavors or outlandish concoctions. When the waitress

appeared, she ordered a plain cup of coffee.

With a brief look of surprise, Riley did the same.

"So," he said, after the waitress departed. "You've

been well?"

Inwardly, Buffy groaned. She also had no interest in

the making of small talk, but the situation required it.

"I have been, yes."

They bantered back and forth for a few minutes, then

Riley gave her the opening she'd been hoping for.

"Look, I was wondering," he said, giving her one of his

guileless grins, "the bank is hosting a charity event. It's

a banquet for MADD...uh...with dancing after," he added

quickly, as though sweetening the deal. "And I'd really enjoy

it if you'd agree to accompany me."

This was all she had to hear. "Thank you for asking..."

She hesitated, and he sat back in his chair. "Why do I get

the feeling I'm about to be shot right out of the sky?" he asked,

his expression registering visible disappointment. "There's

a 'but' coming, isn't there?"

"Well.....yes." The waitress arrived with their coffee, and

Buffy waited until she was gone to continue. "I can't go out

with you, Riley."

"You can't go to the banquet...or not at all?"

"Not at all."

Giving her an appraising look, he took a sip of his

coffee. "Let me guess...there's someone else." It wasn't

a question.

"Yes."

"And it's serious?"

"Yes. Very serious."

She felt completely confident that it was. Men

who weren't serious surely didn't drop tantalizing hints

about diamond rings, no matter what her mother had

said about some of them using every trick in the book in

order to "get into a girl's pants."

That argument had no basis in fact. Spike had been into

her pants long before he'd brought up the jewelry angle,

so tricks were hardly necessary.

"Mind if I ask who? I mean...it hasn't been THAT long since

we went out, and you're already serious?"

Buffy detected a definite note of disapproval in Riley's

tone. Forgetting completely that she would have felt the

same way not that long ago, she immediately went on the

defense.

"It happened very suddenly, and it's no one you know. He's

a....a musician."

Riley's brows arched. "A musician? You mean classical? He's

with an orchestra?"

"No," she shook her head. "Not classical. And he's with a

band."

"Well...what instrument does he play?"

"Guitar," she murmured.

Now he really looked surprised. "The guitar?" he echoed. "You

mean...this is a ROCK band?"

He looked highly amused, which only irritated her. "I don't see

what's so funny about it," she said. "Yes, it's a rock band. He plays

the lead guitar AND he's the lead singer. In fact...it's HIS band."

Riley held up both hands in a 'whoa, slow down' gesture. "Okay,

okay...I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Buffy..." He reached across the table and took her hand. "I mean

it, I'm sorry. You just never struck me as the 'rock and roll groupie'

type."

It was quite possibly the worst phrase he could have used. Her

head snapped up and she snatched her hand back. "I'm not a

groupie of ANY type," she informed him. "And I don't understand

where you get off making that kind of comment anyway. You

don't know me all THAT well, Riley."

He tried to placate her. "Okay, you're right. I'm sorry...that was

out of line."

She nodded. "Yes, more than a little bit."

"I know. And I AM sorry. Okay?"

He smiled at her, a boyishly charming grin that would make most

women's knees quiver...IF they'd never been on the receiving end

of one of Spike Devlin's smiles.

Appreciating his sincerity, she allowed herself to be mollified. "For-

given."

"Good." He settled back in his chair and picked up his coffee

cup. "So...what's his name, if it's not too nosy a question?"

Buffy hesitated, fairly sure that her answer was going to set off

another display of the 'you've gotta be kidding mes'. "Spike,"

she answered succinctly. "Spike Devlin."

"Spike Devlin?" Riley straightened up in his chair. "From 'Blue

Eyed Devil'? THAT Spike Devlin?"

"You...you've heard of them?" She didn't know why she was

surprised. Half the world had heard of them by now.

"Yeah, of course," he said, nodding. "They're great. I have

their CDs. Did you....you must have met him when they were

at Union Jack's?"

"That's right, I did. " He looked so impressed that, for a moment,

she was certain he was about to ask her if she could get him an

autograph. "A couple of weeks ago, and then I...." She was about

to tell him about her sojourn to San Francisco when his facial

expression suddenly changed.

"I heard a story," he said, his grin widening as he pointed a

finger at her.

She knew what was coming.

"There was this girl there...the first night they played. She was

in the audience...and he actually left the stage to talk to her in

the middle of a song."

Buffy sighed. She'd never hear the end of that particular tale, she

just knew it.

"It was YOU?" Riley went on. "It WAS...wasn't it?"

Oh, well....

"Yes, it was me," she told him. "That was the night I met him."

"A couple of my tellers were there that night. Is it true that you

ran out on him?"

It was public knowledge, she could hardly deny it. "All true."

Leaning his elbow on the table, Riley propped his cheek on his

hand. "Come on....you have to tell me about it."

"I most certainly do not."

"Buffy....you're rejecting me for another guy. The least you can

do is...."

"All right!"

She gave in easily. Telling him about it was easier than arguing

the point, and he HAD been very accepting of her new relation-

ship...even though she suspected that it was more the identity of

the new man in her life that swung the ball in her favor.

Sketching the story out briefly, she omitted the wildly personal

details, finishing up with the arrival of the mysterious videotape.

Riley listened attentively, laughing at the appropriate places.

"That's quite a story," he said, "and I'm really glad for you,

Buffy. Not because of who he is...but because he makes you

happy."

She returned his smile, feeling light years better than she had

been a half hour ago. "Thanks, Riley."

He leaned over the table and cupped her chin in his hand,

tilting her face up. "I hope he appreciates how lucky he is,"

he said quietly. "Because you're something special."

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the

sudden sound of a high performance car revving it's

engine at the red light just a few yards from the patio of

the Espresso Pump.

Turning her head to see who was causing the din, she

found herself staring directly into the sapphire gaze of

the 'Blue Eyed Devil' himself.....

.....and he did NOT look happy!

TBC...

Part Forty-five:

Buffy literally couldn't move. She kept staring at the

car, staring into Spike's angry eyes, almost feeling as

though she was standing off to one side observing

rather than participating.

This couldn't actually be happening because Spike

was many miles away from Sunnydale. He was, she

had no doubt, standing on a stage right now, singing

his heart out.

No, this person before her, sitting in the drivers seat of

a car that was definitely ringing a bell in her memory,

had to be an amazing look alike....an exact duplicate

in fact, right down to the scar through his left eyebrow.

Perhaps this was a fan, someone who idolized Devlin to

the point of wanting to resemble him physically, who had

gone to the extreme measure of some pretty extensive

plastic surgery, who had somehow found out that he was

thinking about buying a fully restored 1974 MG Midget

convertible and....

But how likely was that, really?

"Hey," Riley said, releasing his hold on her face and

following the direction of her gaze, "isn't that him?"

Buffy finally shook off her shock and regained her

ability to move. Her eyes darted to meet Riley's, then

snapped back to Spike.

"I think...." was all she was able to say before her

disbelief of what was happening climbed to an all new

level.

Instead of doing what she expected, which would be

pulling to the curb, climbing out, and coming over to

start at the very least a verbal confrontation, Spike threw

the car into gear and peeled away from the corner with a

scream of acceleration.

"Wow," Riley continued after a moment. "What was THAT

all about?"

It was a valid question, one she had no idea how to reply

to.

"Buffy? That WAS him....wasn't it? Spike Devlin?"

She nodded silently, trying to marshal her thoughts together

and decide her next course of action. "Yes," she finally said.

"That was him....and...and I have to go. Um...thank you for

the coffee."

Feeling as though she was moving in the right direction,

she picked up her purse and fumbled around for her keys.

"You're welcome. Buffy....is everything going to be all right

for you?" Riley was still talking.

Well, that was another damn good question for which she

had no answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She drove home, not knowing what to expect or what

she would find until she saw the car sitting in her drive-

way.

Pulling in next to it, she set the parking brake with

ridiculous care and switched off the engine.

Spike was sitting on the front porch swing, his guitar

in his lap, picking out some tune she didn't recognize.

Buffy tried to assess his mood by his facial expression, but

he was in shadow and she had no clear view.

At this point, there was nothing to do but get out of the car

and find out for herself how bad the fallout of this incident

was going to be.

Taking in and releasing a deep breath, she climbed out of

the car and walked up the front pathway.

The music stopped and Spike raised his head and glared

at her, waiting, head tilted to one side and that scarred

eyebrow arched.

Buffy sighed. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Looking at you like what?" he queried calmly.

"Like I'm a cross between Hitler and the Whore of Babylon,"

she said.

Much to her surprise, she saw a smile tug at the corner of

his mouth....a look he quickly took control of.

"Who was that?" he asked, still holding a quiet tone.

Buffy steeled herself for the outburst that would surely

follow her reply. "That was Riley Finn."

"Mmm," Spike nodded. "The banker? The friend?"

She narrowed her eyes. What was THIS all about? Was

he trying to lull her into a false sense of 'See? Nothing

bad is going to happen here as long as you're honest with

me'...only to lower the boom on her afterwards?

"Yes, Riley is....that person."

He strummed a few chords. "Mmm," he said again. "Did

you have a nice time?"

This whole scene was getting more surreal by the

moment.

"It was all right." She shivered a little, although the

evening air was far from cold. "Do you want to...come

inside?"

"Yes. Thank you."

All this politeness was unnerving her, and she dropped

her keys twice trying to unlock the door.

"Need some help?"

"No...I've got it."

Once they were in the house, with the door secured

behind them, Buffy dropped her purse on the table and

turned to face him again.

"Want anything?" she asked.

"No, thank you." He leaned his guitar against the wall.

"Coffee?"

"No."

"A beer?"

"No." He shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Now that the niceties has been performed, she was

free to ask, "Spike....what are you doing here?"

His eyebrows arched at her tone.

"I just meant," she added quickly, "aren't you supposed

to be in Cleveland or something tonight?"

He was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Columbus,

actually....but the concert had to be canceled."

"How come?"

Dropping to the sofa in a graceful sprawl, he stretched

his arms out along the back and crossed one leg over

the other.

"It was a fairly new concert hall...and it must have been

built on the cheap," he explained, looking her right in the

eye. "Sometime during the night bad wiring sparked a fire.

Sprinkler system failed. Gutted the whole interior. It was

too late to try and reschedule anywhere else."

Buffy stared at him in horror. "Oh, my god....well....well,

that's awful....I'm just....I'm glad it happened while no one

was there."

While HE hadn't been there, is what she'd truly meant. Just

the thought of such a thing happening...of him being in that

place...around all that electrical equipment that surrounded

him every time he set foot on stage....equipment plugged into

faulty wiring....

She sank down on the sofa next to him, feeling a sudden

need for physical contact with his alive and healthy body.

"You're all right?"

Spike acknowledged her concern with a slight nod. "I'm

fine, Buffy. We were nowhere near the place when it caught

fire."

She swallowed hard, sending a silent thank you somewhere

in the direction she judged heaven might be.

"Anyway," he continued briskly. "Since I suddenly found

myself with a couple of days free....I decided to surprise

you."

It had worked....beautifully.

"So I caught a flight to San Francisco....picked up the

car...and drove like hell to get here. To you."

His eyes darted across the room, spotting the video he'd

sent her. "You've got mail."

That comment reminded her of the content of the video;

his sorta/kinda/ marriage proposal, deal sweetening

diamond ring included. "Uh-huh. It came today. It was

just....."

"Too bad," he cut her off, rising to his feet and crossing

the room. Picking up the envelope it had arrived in, he

slipped the tape back into it and placed it on the coffee

table. "Here I was, hoping it hadn't arrived yet."

Buffy's heart took a sickening dive into her stomach. "You

were?"

He gave her an impassive look. "Yeah, when I pulled up I

checked your mailbox to see if I could intercept it."

Well, this couldn't be going anywhere good at all.

Sticking his hands into the pockets of his short leather

jacket, he leaned against the wall, watching her...a cat

with a jittery mouse.

Disappointment began to settle around her, a heavy

blanket she was determined to shrug off. "Why?" she

asked simply.

His lips quirked in a small smile. "Did you watch the

entire tape?"

"Yes....the song was beautiful, by the way."

"Glad you liked it."

Her thoughts were skittering around like leaves in a

wind eddy. "About the last part....where you...."

"Yeah, about that," he interrupted again, then shrugged

his shoulders. "All the way over here, I was hoping you

hadn't gotten that far."

She could almost feel the rug tightening below her

feet, about to be yanked out from under her. "Spike..."

"No....let me say this." He looked down at his feet for a

moment, then back up into her eyes. "I shouldn't have said

all that stuff at the end. It was obviously a mistake, and I'm

sorry I did it...."

Buffy swallowed a tight lump in her throat. This was

grossly unfair. She hadn't done anything to deserve this,

hadn't been unfaithful...hadn't even THOUGHT about being

unfaithful. A hectic color mounted in her cheeks and she

opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could go

and how he could get there.

"...that way," he went on calmly, his devilish grin finally

breaking through as he withdrew a small satin box from his

pocket, tossed it once, then caught it on the palm of his

hand and extended it towards her. "A gentleman should

always propose to a lady.....in person."

TBC...